Here's to shiny new cleats!
Showing posts with label bike. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bike. Show all posts
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Time for a replacement, finally.
Here's to shiny new cleats!
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Vineman 70.3 Race Report: The Same Old Song and Dance
Warning - super duper long post!
This was my first attempt at a 70.3 triathlon. The venue (California wine country) is gorgeous, relatively close to home, the course isn't super difficult and about a dozen friends were also doing the race, although in a field of 2500 athletes, I didn't see too much of my friends on course.
The race organizers were very nice and efficient. The race was very well run and the volunteers were spectacular!
My plan had been to leave LA around six am the day before the race, drive up, have time to check in and pick up my race packet, maybe have lunch (a regional specialty in this area is BBQ oysters, and they're amazing), poke around, maybe drive the bike course.
Of course, I got stuck in horrible traffic going through the East Bay (on a Saturday!) and then again on the 101 just south of Petaluma and didn't manage to get to the race expo until about three pm.
Once I arrived, found parking and made my way to the expo, I then had to sit through a 20 minute video that consists of the exact information that's on the website. Guess people don't bother to read. The video featured one of the race officials and a chicken puppet - lucky for me I had read the website, because the voice of the chicken puppet really needed to work on his diction. I couldn't understand anything.
Once the video ended, we had to get a hand stamp before we'd be allowed to pick up our race packets.
So, of course, there was a mad rush for the exit while the presenter was still talking because everyone wanted to beat the crowd, but packet pickup wasn't all that crowded, even with the mad rush.
I got my race packet and my shirt and then checked out the expo - lots of WTC branded stuff, lots of clothing (but no really screaming deals like at the bike race expos), shoes, etc.. Oomph! had some super cute running shorts that were just a little too short for my taste (I don't like the feeling that my butt cheeks are going to fall out of my shorts). My one purchase was a Vineman Headsweats visor, even though I was going to do the run in my 'dork of the desert' hat.
Best branded item? Vineman wine glasses:
I then dropped off my run gear in T2 - I got super lucky and found a spot next to a huge Hello Kitty balloon, which I figured would make it a snap to find my gear in the huge transition area:
I then headed back south to Santa Rosa, where I would be staying. I'd estimate that 80% of the guests at the hotel were racing Vineman. We all had the yellow wristbands they put on us at packet pickup, and there were a lot of bikes in the hallways (since no one wanted to leave the bike in the car).
After an early dinner and a hot shower, I managed to get to bed at about 9 pm and really got a good sleep, which isn't normal for me. Guess the road rage wore me out.
I was in the 7:20 am start wave, so I left super early, as I was (correctly, it turns out) anticipating horrible traffic as 2,500 people descended on the tiny town of Guerneville (population about 1,200). I couldn't find the official parking lot, so I parked in a lot a mile away run by the local high school students who were asking for a $5.00 donation to help their sports program. Since they put out neon yellow signs with big arrows all over the town, I suspect more racers parked in their lot than in the free one next to T1.
After a walk down to T1 (in my jammies. Why wear a swimsuit on the drive over?), I found my age group rack (totally, completely full. I had to beg to squeeze in where there wasn't really room), and suited up. There wasn't a good place to warm up, so when we went into the starting corral (it's an in-water start), I ended up doing a few strokes of butterfly just to get the heart rate up, which got me some bemused stares from my fellow athletes.
Swim: 38:07
This was possibly the easiest race swim I've ever done. The current in the river was negligible, the start waves were small enough that although I had a few moments of getting stuck in traffic, it wasn't an issue for me to find open water to swim. Although the river is shallow enough to walk, I didn't. I just swam (even when the water got about 18 inches deep) and managed, once I got out of traffic to hit a nice groove and just cruise. Of course, the river water was gross, and also of course, after the race I developed a mild ear infection.
I honestly didn't feel like I was going that fast on the swim, and got out of the water feeling really good. A pleasant surprise, and one that reaffirmed my life choice to concentrate on efficiency of stroke over high cadence. The only problem was the wetsuit. I'd brought the TYR Cat1 (aka the boob smasher) and the pressure of the wetsuit neck on my throat, while less distracting than I'd thought it might be, ended up bruising my throat. No, really. I've got a bruise and even a few days later feel like I've got a lump in my throat right were the wetsuit neck pressure was the worst.
It's official - that wetsuit's got to go. I need something more titty (and throat) friendly.
T1: 16 min
Not a surprise. I elected to do complete clothing changes between each leg instead of wearing a tri-suit. The ground in T1 was super muddy and someone stole my towel, so I had to run to the changing tent to avoid flashing everyone while I lubed up with cream and put on my bike shorts. Next time, I'm bringing a sarong. No one will steal it (hopefully) and I can wrap it around me and not have to pick my way over muddy, rocky ground to the tents. As I was heading out, I chugged a can of iced coffee (I didn't have any caffeine before the swim to help keep my heart rate down), and started biking.
Bike: 3:12
The race description described the bike course as 'rolling hills', so I was anticipating PCH style hills. These hills were much smaller and the roads were much better than I'd anticipated, so that was the second pleasant surprise of the day. Despite the dire warnings about time penalties for drafting and blocking, I saw an awful lot of both on the ride. One guy was sucking wheel so blatantly that I'm shocked he didn't get caught. How do I know he didn't get caught? He was in front of me the entire way - he'd catch a wheel and pull ahead then lose it and drop back. I managed to average a bit over 17 mph on the ride (I think my three splits were 17.3, 17.4 and 17.5). Had I not slacked off on my bike training I could have squeezed out a bit more speed. The course was incredibly beautiful, albeit littered with launched bottles, cliff bars, gels, sunglasses, etc... (the roads, while not as bad as Solvang, weren't terribly good, either). Since I had the grave misfortune to be riding a carbon frame, I was really afraid of getting a filling shaken out of my head. Just as I was staring to get tired and cranky, I rolled into T2. Well timed.
T2: 12 minutes
Again, not a surprise. Swapped bike shorts for loose comfy run shorts, a lightweight sun resistant shirt and my dork hat. No one stole my T2 towel, so didn't have to run to the changing tent. Someone did, however steal the Hello Kitty balloon so I wasted some time wandering around looking for my stuff. Also, I forgot to spray my legs with sunblock, so now I've got a terrible runner's tan.
Run: 2:59
Of course, the run's where it all fell apart, as it always does. As soon as I started trying to run, my glutes and IT bands started to tighten up, and they never relaxed at all. I had to keep stopping and and trying to stretch them out, but it didn't help for more than a few hundred feet, and then they'd tighten again.
To add to the misery, my left sock kept bunching up and giving me a sore spot on the bottom of my foot, so I kept having to stop, take my shoe off and fix my sock. They had aid stations every mile, so I just kept counting the stations and telling myself to keep going. I ended up having to walk most of the uphills, but I wasn't the only one - on just about every hill there were long lines of walkers and people who were trying to run but were going the same speed as the walkers. One lady was racewalking, and although she looked odd, she was going pretty fast. Note to self: Learn to racewalk. It might come in handy some day.
The run had a loop through a vineyard, and although I believe I've mentioned my poisonous hatred for trail running on other occasions, let me just state again that I hate off-road running. Hate it. Dust, bugs, uneven ground. It can all take a long walk off the proverbial short pier.
The rocks on the ground were making the sock-related sore spot even worse, so I walked the entire loop until I got back onto pavement, where I had to stop (again) to sort out my sock and stretch.
I've never wanted wine so badly as I did right then. Or a martini, or performance enhancing drugs, or a car service, or a brick to the head. Anything would have been welcome at that point.
I averaged something like a 14 minute mile, which is really super bad, even for me. The really cruel part of all this is I really thought I had the run handled. On my training runs, I'd been running in the low 10's and feeling good.
I did pretty well with the aid stations - they had drink in small cups, so I never got the sloshy tummy, never felt hungry and never wanted to puke. I did a swallow of Gatorade every third station (too much of that stuff gives me a horrible headache), water at every station, bananas at every other station, and the occasional gel.
Total time: 7: 19
I don't suppose I can complain. I said I'd be happy with anything under 8 hours, and 7:19, last I checked, was under 8 hours, I just wish I'd had a better run. I'll post race photos when they're up - they've got someone else labelled as me in the bike photos, although there is a pretty hilarious video of my limping to the finish line looking like re-heated death.
Once I finished, I grabbed some food (cold chicken and some pasta salad - I couldn't eat any more fruit), took off those damned shoes and limped over to the shuttle stop to go back to Guerneville and get my car.
The shuttle was a school bus, so there wasn't a lot of leg room, which made the sore legs a lot worse after a 20 minute ride. After getting the car, I headed back to Windsor to get my bike and my T2 stuff (since you can't take bikes on the bus). I picked up the bag of wet soggy swim gear that had come over from T1, threw the whole mess in my car and headed back to the hotel, unloaded my car and then limped down to the pool area where I sat in the hot tub for about 20 minutes until my legs felt better, then ventured back out to a local Italian place and had a delicious dinner of house-made pasta with wild boar and local mushrooms. And wine.
I finally had some wine.
Then, I went back to my room and passed out cold.
Monday, I stopped by the La Crema (named by someone who didn't speak Spanish) winery tasting room, since Vineman participants got a free tasting. The entire tasting room was full of Vineman folks, and we were all talking and not paying much attention to the wine - although in case you were wondering, we tasted a very good white, a not very good white, a good red and a terrible red, and a flavorless rose. That one hurt the most. I love rose.
I then had a sausage and a beer (at 11 am, because it was that kind of day) and then drove to the Vichy hot springs in Ukiah and soaked in the carbonated mineral water (highly recommended if you're in the area).
After a stop for an early dinner (and coffee) in the city of Napa, I headed home and got back around midnight. I left the bike in the car (covered, of course, and with the car backed in so even if someone did break a window they weren't going to be able to get the bike out), and managed to not be able to sleep due to over consumption of coffee.
Aside from the sore throat, ear infection, and sore legs, I feel great, although I never got my BBQ oysters. Dammit.
Guess that's a reason to go back next year.
This was my first attempt at a 70.3 triathlon. The venue (California wine country) is gorgeous, relatively close to home, the course isn't super difficult and about a dozen friends were also doing the race, although in a field of 2500 athletes, I didn't see too much of my friends on course.
The race organizers were very nice and efficient. The race was very well run and the volunteers were spectacular!
My plan had been to leave LA around six am the day before the race, drive up, have time to check in and pick up my race packet, maybe have lunch (a regional specialty in this area is BBQ oysters, and they're amazing), poke around, maybe drive the bike course.
Of course, I got stuck in horrible traffic going through the East Bay (on a Saturday!) and then again on the 101 just south of Petaluma and didn't manage to get to the race expo until about three pm.
 |
| I'm so enraged that my vision is blurred. Or maybe it's the phone. |
 |
| Why is there a traffic jam in the middle of nowhere? These people can't all be going to Vineman. |
Once I arrived, found parking and made my way to the expo, I then had to sit through a 20 minute video that consists of the exact information that's on the website. Guess people don't bother to read. The video featured one of the race officials and a chicken puppet - lucky for me I had read the website, because the voice of the chicken puppet really needed to work on his diction. I couldn't understand anything.
Once the video ended, we had to get a hand stamp before we'd be allowed to pick up our race packets.
So, of course, there was a mad rush for the exit while the presenter was still talking because everyone wanted to beat the crowd, but packet pickup wasn't all that crowded, even with the mad rush.
I got my race packet and my shirt and then checked out the expo - lots of WTC branded stuff, lots of clothing (but no really screaming deals like at the bike race expos), shoes, etc.. Oomph! had some super cute running shorts that were just a little too short for my taste (I don't like the feeling that my butt cheeks are going to fall out of my shorts). My one purchase was a Vineman Headsweats visor, even though I was going to do the run in my 'dork of the desert' hat.
Best branded item? Vineman wine glasses:
 |
| No, I didn't get one, but I probably should have. |
I then dropped off my run gear in T2 - I got super lucky and found a spot next to a huge Hello Kitty balloon, which I figured would make it a snap to find my gear in the huge transition area:
 |
| Hello, Kitty. |
After an early dinner and a hot shower, I managed to get to bed at about 9 pm and really got a good sleep, which isn't normal for me. Guess the road rage wore me out.
I was in the 7:20 am start wave, so I left super early, as I was (correctly, it turns out) anticipating horrible traffic as 2,500 people descended on the tiny town of Guerneville (population about 1,200). I couldn't find the official parking lot, so I parked in a lot a mile away run by the local high school students who were asking for a $5.00 donation to help their sports program. Since they put out neon yellow signs with big arrows all over the town, I suspect more racers parked in their lot than in the free one next to T1.
After a walk down to T1 (in my jammies. Why wear a swimsuit on the drive over?), I found my age group rack (totally, completely full. I had to beg to squeeze in where there wasn't really room), and suited up. There wasn't a good place to warm up, so when we went into the starting corral (it's an in-water start), I ended up doing a few strokes of butterfly just to get the heart rate up, which got me some bemused stares from my fellow athletes.
Swim: 38:07
This was possibly the easiest race swim I've ever done. The current in the river was negligible, the start waves were small enough that although I had a few moments of getting stuck in traffic, it wasn't an issue for me to find open water to swim. Although the river is shallow enough to walk, I didn't. I just swam (even when the water got about 18 inches deep) and managed, once I got out of traffic to hit a nice groove and just cruise. Of course, the river water was gross, and also of course, after the race I developed a mild ear infection.
I honestly didn't feel like I was going that fast on the swim, and got out of the water feeling really good. A pleasant surprise, and one that reaffirmed my life choice to concentrate on efficiency of stroke over high cadence. The only problem was the wetsuit. I'd brought the TYR Cat1 (aka the boob smasher) and the pressure of the wetsuit neck on my throat, while less distracting than I'd thought it might be, ended up bruising my throat. No, really. I've got a bruise and even a few days later feel like I've got a lump in my throat right were the wetsuit neck pressure was the worst.
It's official - that wetsuit's got to go. I need something more titty (and throat) friendly.
T1: 16 min
Not a surprise. I elected to do complete clothing changes between each leg instead of wearing a tri-suit. The ground in T1 was super muddy and someone stole my towel, so I had to run to the changing tent to avoid flashing everyone while I lubed up with cream and put on my bike shorts. Next time, I'm bringing a sarong. No one will steal it (hopefully) and I can wrap it around me and not have to pick my way over muddy, rocky ground to the tents. As I was heading out, I chugged a can of iced coffee (I didn't have any caffeine before the swim to help keep my heart rate down), and started biking.
Bike: 3:12
The race description described the bike course as 'rolling hills', so I was anticipating PCH style hills. These hills were much smaller and the roads were much better than I'd anticipated, so that was the second pleasant surprise of the day. Despite the dire warnings about time penalties for drafting and blocking, I saw an awful lot of both on the ride. One guy was sucking wheel so blatantly that I'm shocked he didn't get caught. How do I know he didn't get caught? He was in front of me the entire way - he'd catch a wheel and pull ahead then lose it and drop back. I managed to average a bit over 17 mph on the ride (I think my three splits were 17.3, 17.4 and 17.5). Had I not slacked off on my bike training I could have squeezed out a bit more speed. The course was incredibly beautiful, albeit littered with launched bottles, cliff bars, gels, sunglasses, etc... (the roads, while not as bad as Solvang, weren't terribly good, either). Since I had the grave misfortune to be riding a carbon frame, I was really afraid of getting a filling shaken out of my head. Just as I was staring to get tired and cranky, I rolled into T2. Well timed.
T2: 12 minutes
Again, not a surprise. Swapped bike shorts for loose comfy run shorts, a lightweight sun resistant shirt and my dork hat. No one stole my T2 towel, so didn't have to run to the changing tent. Someone did, however steal the Hello Kitty balloon so I wasted some time wandering around looking for my stuff. Also, I forgot to spray my legs with sunblock, so now I've got a terrible runner's tan.
Run: 2:59
Of course, the run's where it all fell apart, as it always does. As soon as I started trying to run, my glutes and IT bands started to tighten up, and they never relaxed at all. I had to keep stopping and and trying to stretch them out, but it didn't help for more than a few hundred feet, and then they'd tighten again.
To add to the misery, my left sock kept bunching up and giving me a sore spot on the bottom of my foot, so I kept having to stop, take my shoe off and fix my sock. They had aid stations every mile, so I just kept counting the stations and telling myself to keep going. I ended up having to walk most of the uphills, but I wasn't the only one - on just about every hill there were long lines of walkers and people who were trying to run but were going the same speed as the walkers. One lady was racewalking, and although she looked odd, she was going pretty fast. Note to self: Learn to racewalk. It might come in handy some day.
The run had a loop through a vineyard, and although I believe I've mentioned my poisonous hatred for trail running on other occasions, let me just state again that I hate off-road running. Hate it. Dust, bugs, uneven ground. It can all take a long walk off the proverbial short pier.
The rocks on the ground were making the sock-related sore spot even worse, so I walked the entire loop until I got back onto pavement, where I had to stop (again) to sort out my sock and stretch.
I've never wanted wine so badly as I did right then. Or a martini, or performance enhancing drugs, or a car service, or a brick to the head. Anything would have been welcome at that point.
I averaged something like a 14 minute mile, which is really super bad, even for me. The really cruel part of all this is I really thought I had the run handled. On my training runs, I'd been running in the low 10's and feeling good.
I did pretty well with the aid stations - they had drink in small cups, so I never got the sloshy tummy, never felt hungry and never wanted to puke. I did a swallow of Gatorade every third station (too much of that stuff gives me a horrible headache), water at every station, bananas at every other station, and the occasional gel.
Total time: 7: 19
I don't suppose I can complain. I said I'd be happy with anything under 8 hours, and 7:19, last I checked, was under 8 hours, I just wish I'd had a better run. I'll post race photos when they're up - they've got someone else labelled as me in the bike photos, although there is a pretty hilarious video of my limping to the finish line looking like re-heated death.
 | ||
| Super tiny thumbnail, but you can still see the pain. And the dork hat. |
 |
| I earned this one. |
Once I finished, I grabbed some food (cold chicken and some pasta salad - I couldn't eat any more fruit), took off those damned shoes and limped over to the shuttle stop to go back to Guerneville and get my car.
The shuttle was a school bus, so there wasn't a lot of leg room, which made the sore legs a lot worse after a 20 minute ride. After getting the car, I headed back to Windsor to get my bike and my T2 stuff (since you can't take bikes on the bus). I picked up the bag of wet soggy swim gear that had come over from T1, threw the whole mess in my car and headed back to the hotel, unloaded my car and then limped down to the pool area where I sat in the hot tub for about 20 minutes until my legs felt better, then ventured back out to a local Italian place and had a delicious dinner of house-made pasta with wild boar and local mushrooms. And wine.
I finally had some wine.
Then, I went back to my room and passed out cold.
Monday, I stopped by the La Crema (named by someone who didn't speak Spanish) winery tasting room, since Vineman participants got a free tasting. The entire tasting room was full of Vineman folks, and we were all talking and not paying much attention to the wine - although in case you were wondering, we tasted a very good white, a not very good white, a good red and a terrible red, and a flavorless rose. That one hurt the most. I love rose.
I then had a sausage and a beer (at 11 am, because it was that kind of day) and then drove to the Vichy hot springs in Ukiah and soaked in the carbonated mineral water (highly recommended if you're in the area).
 |
| These dogs are barkin' |
Aside from the sore throat, ear infection, and sore legs, I feel great, although I never got my BBQ oysters. Dammit.
Guess that's a reason to go back next year.
Monday, July 9, 2012
Sometimes the Mountain Wins
When I had my Solvang-related broken spoke fixed, the bike shop guy looked at my wheels, shook his head and said "Your wheels are really old, and you're probably going to need new ones pretty soon."
They then warned me that if a spoke broke again it would be time for new wheels. I hoped and prayed that the old ones would hold.
Saturday was my last long ride before Vineman, and sure enough, on mile 40, the back wheel popped a spoke and the back tire started coming apart - you know, just for good measure.
Of course, I'm also cash poor at the moment. How could this not happen when I'm sort of funds? Thanks, Murphy's Law. Thanks a lot.
So I slunk back into the bike shop, admitted I'd been a fool to not buy wheels when they told me I needed them and the sales guy cheerfully showed me a really sick pair of Reynolds carbon race wheels - such a deal! Normally $1200, now marked down to $850!
Except I don't have $850 right now. Can't beg, borrow or steal it, either.
I asked to see something more within my budget range, and they went in the back and came out with a pair of Shimano A500 wheels that were $200. Still painful, but manageable.
Of course, there goes my plan to have a really nice lunch and wine while in Napa Valley (I'll be on a PBJ that I brought from home diet), but at least I've got new wheels.
I just wish they hadn't shown me the Reynolds wheels first. Makes the ones they sold me look super cheap.
On the bright side, at least it happened here and not on course at Vineman!
It was a beautiful day to ride - enjoy some photos:
They then warned me that if a spoke broke again it would be time for new wheels. I hoped and prayed that the old ones would hold.
Saturday was my last long ride before Vineman, and sure enough, on mile 40, the back wheel popped a spoke and the back tire started coming apart - you know, just for good measure.
Of course, I'm also cash poor at the moment. How could this not happen when I'm sort of funds? Thanks, Murphy's Law. Thanks a lot.
So I slunk back into the bike shop, admitted I'd been a fool to not buy wheels when they told me I needed them and the sales guy cheerfully showed me a really sick pair of Reynolds carbon race wheels - such a deal! Normally $1200, now marked down to $850!
Except I don't have $850 right now. Can't beg, borrow or steal it, either.
I asked to see something more within my budget range, and they went in the back and came out with a pair of Shimano A500 wheels that were $200. Still painful, but manageable.
Of course, there goes my plan to have a really nice lunch and wine while in Napa Valley (I'll be on a PBJ that I brought from home diet), but at least I've got new wheels.
I just wish they hadn't shown me the Reynolds wheels first. Makes the ones they sold me look super cheap.
On the bright side, at least it happened here and not on course at Vineman!
It was a beautiful day to ride - enjoy some photos:
 |
| Looking inland at Malibu |
 |
| Ah, ocean. |
 |
| Latigo Canyon Road |
 |
| View from Latigo, about two miles up the hill. I didn't go all the way to the top. |
Friday, June 29, 2012
Chest pain ahoy!
This past week, I had my annual physical and mentioned to the doctor that I've been having trouble breathing when running or swimming hard (totally fine on the bike) - I feel like I've got a band around my upper chest and I start to wheeze, and then I have to stop for a few seconds before I can breathe normally again.
Using an informal poll of other runners and swimmers, I managed to diagnose myself with Exercise Induced Asthma, and figured that the doctor would just write me a prescription for an inhaler and then all would be sunshine and rainbows.
Except it didn't work like that. The doctor actually looked alarmed and insisted that I see a cardiologist, which, frankly, I thought was a bit much but I suppose that if one has a middle-aged patient complaining of chest tightness when running, it's probably better to rule out anything really life-threatening.
So, Tuesday I'm off to the Cardiologist to have them check my heart for worms. Or something. I was a bit unclear on what, exactly might be wrong with me.
Hopefully nothing, and I'll get the inhaler* and then I'll be able to breathe normally when running, so I'll win the race at Vineman!
*Inhaler does not produce stated effects.
Using an informal poll of other runners and swimmers, I managed to diagnose myself with Exercise Induced Asthma, and figured that the doctor would just write me a prescription for an inhaler and then all would be sunshine and rainbows.
Except it didn't work like that. The doctor actually looked alarmed and insisted that I see a cardiologist, which, frankly, I thought was a bit much but I suppose that if one has a middle-aged patient complaining of chest tightness when running, it's probably better to rule out anything really life-threatening.
So, Tuesday I'm off to the Cardiologist to have them check my heart for worms. Or something. I was a bit unclear on what, exactly might be wrong with me.
Hopefully nothing, and I'll get the inhaler* and then I'll be able to breathe normally when running, so I'll win the race at Vineman!
*Inhaler does not produce stated effects.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Oh, anxiety, I haven't missed you. Not at all.
The race-related anxiety dreams have started a bit earlier than usual, but Vineman is a longer race than I've done before, so I guess it makes sense.
This round of anxiety dreams are centering around the race's split transition area. T1 and T2 are miles apart. So if I drive to the start of the race, I have to leave my car there, about 20 miles away from the finish line and T2.
Vineman provides shuttles, of course, but then I have to finish the race, find someplace to lock my bike up (since I doubt they'll babysit it for me and they don't allow bikes on the shuttles), sit on the damned shuttle for 20 minutes, get back to my car (and I'll have to carry my car keys with me for the entire race), then drive my stinky exhausted ass 20 miles back to T2, load up my bike (if someone hasn't stolen it), then drive another half an hour to my hotel.
I'm not happy about this. Not at all.
I'll have a large group of friends doing the race so I've got a reasonable expectation of having someone give me a lift to the start line, and failing that I'm sure someone will be more than willing to accompany me from LA and use the free hotel room in Napa in exchange for sherpa duties, but right now my brain is assuming that I'm going to be on my own the whole time and is, of course, imagining the worst.
Hence the anxiety dreams. In addition to the standard 'sleeping past my start time' dream, now I'm having 'finishing the race after the shuttles have stopped and not being able to get to my car' dreams, with 'OMG my bike's been stolen while I got my car' dreams.
For good measure, last night my brain threw in a 'guy I don't know well but have a very mild crush on is somehow in my hotel room making out with my best friend' dream.
I don't know where that one came from.
In the interest of some good news - my run's doing very well. I'm still struggling to maintain race pace runs (and I'm aiming for a race pace of a 9 minute mile), but I'm cruising along at a 10 and change without breathing hard, which is a HUGE improvement over last year, when I was struggling to maintain an 11 minute mile.
Also - I have a new bike! I bought it used, and it's a TT bike, not a road bike, so I'm not going to retire Gary just yet :)
Complete bike story next post!
This round of anxiety dreams are centering around the race's split transition area. T1 and T2 are miles apart. So if I drive to the start of the race, I have to leave my car there, about 20 miles away from the finish line and T2.
Vineman provides shuttles, of course, but then I have to finish the race, find someplace to lock my bike up (since I doubt they'll babysit it for me and they don't allow bikes on the shuttles), sit on the damned shuttle for 20 minutes, get back to my car (and I'll have to carry my car keys with me for the entire race), then drive my stinky exhausted ass 20 miles back to T2, load up my bike (if someone hasn't stolen it), then drive another half an hour to my hotel.
I'm not happy about this. Not at all.
I'll have a large group of friends doing the race so I've got a reasonable expectation of having someone give me a lift to the start line, and failing that I'm sure someone will be more than willing to accompany me from LA and use the free hotel room in Napa in exchange for sherpa duties, but right now my brain is assuming that I'm going to be on my own the whole time and is, of course, imagining the worst.
Hence the anxiety dreams. In addition to the standard 'sleeping past my start time' dream, now I'm having 'finishing the race after the shuttles have stopped and not being able to get to my car' dreams, with 'OMG my bike's been stolen while I got my car' dreams.
For good measure, last night my brain threw in a 'guy I don't know well but have a very mild crush on is somehow in my hotel room making out with my best friend' dream.
I don't know where that one came from.
In the interest of some good news - my run's doing very well. I'm still struggling to maintain race pace runs (and I'm aiming for a race pace of a 9 minute mile), but I'm cruising along at a 10 and change without breathing hard, which is a HUGE improvement over last year, when I was struggling to maintain an 11 minute mile.
Also - I have a new bike! I bought it used, and it's a TT bike, not a road bike, so I'm not going to retire Gary just yet :)
Complete bike story next post!
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Two months until Vineman!
As you can see from the widget thingy down there, it's now 60 days until Vineman 70.3. My first half Iron distance.
I'm setting very, very low expectations, as I just want to finish, and preferably not dead last, but I'm actually feeling pretty good about it.
I've not gotten in the long rides that I probably should have, but the hill repeats are going nicely and I feel like the bike's doing fine.
The run is doing well - I'm still not going very fast (at the moment I'm averaging 10 minute miles), but I'm confident that I'll at least be able to finish.
I need to get in some long bikes, so I'll make an extra effort to get those in before the race, but I'm feeling pretty good!
The only thing that's worrying me is the logistics of parking at the race start and finishing 17 miles away. If I can hitch a ride to the start with someone so I don't have to leave my bike in T2 while I shuttle back to get my car, that would be freakin' stellar. Or maybe I'll live rich and spring for a taxi, if I can find on in Napa at 4 am on a Sunday.
Also, of course, tomorrow is bike to work day and I'm going to have to drive because I'm going out to a site 30 miles from my house.
Oh, well. I've been biking to work every day for almost three weeks.
I'm setting very, very low expectations, as I just want to finish, and preferably not dead last, but I'm actually feeling pretty good about it.
I've not gotten in the long rides that I probably should have, but the hill repeats are going nicely and I feel like the bike's doing fine.
The run is doing well - I'm still not going very fast (at the moment I'm averaging 10 minute miles), but I'm confident that I'll at least be able to finish.
I need to get in some long bikes, so I'll make an extra effort to get those in before the race, but I'm feeling pretty good!
The only thing that's worrying me is the logistics of parking at the race start and finishing 17 miles away. If I can hitch a ride to the start with someone so I don't have to leave my bike in T2 while I shuttle back to get my car, that would be freakin' stellar. Or maybe I'll live rich and spring for a taxi, if I can find on in Napa at 4 am on a Sunday.
Also, of course, tomorrow is bike to work day and I'm going to have to drive because I'm going out to a site 30 miles from my house.
Oh, well. I've been biking to work every day for almost three weeks.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
I'm so glad I drove my car today
I've hit that mid-training cycle slump where I hurt, I'm tired, nothing's funny any more and I can't sleep. Small slights become worthy of a three generation long blood feud, and even worse, I've stopped caring about puppies and kittens. And rainbows.
Fuck 'em all.
So I used a Groupon for a massage - usually these can be a waste of time at best, but lucky for me, the awesome masseur was a hiker and really knew where to put the pressure to get all the gunk out of my muscles.
I didn't even consider riding my bike the 7 miles to the massage place. Well, okay, I did, but dismissed the idea as silly as I'd be undoing any good of the massage right away.
One has a much different perception of traffic when one hasn't driven for almost three weeks. Sitting in gridlock with the A/C running, listening to music, not having to dodge doors and road debris. Awesome.
I got to the massage place, and met the masseur. We talked for a few minutes about where I hurt, and he got to work.
He used a lot of pressure and it hurt like hell while he was doing it, but I feel really great now. Even the glute that's been sort of sore for a few weeks feels fine, and the Achilles tendon's finally stopped bothering me, although I don't think I can chalk that up to the massage.
I feel so good right now I'm not even dreading the hill repeats on the bike tomorrow.
Fuck 'em all.
So I used a Groupon for a massage - usually these can be a waste of time at best, but lucky for me, the awesome masseur was a hiker and really knew where to put the pressure to get all the gunk out of my muscles.
I didn't even consider riding my bike the 7 miles to the massage place. Well, okay, I did, but dismissed the idea as silly as I'd be undoing any good of the massage right away.
One has a much different perception of traffic when one hasn't driven for almost three weeks. Sitting in gridlock with the A/C running, listening to music, not having to dodge doors and road debris. Awesome.
I got to the massage place, and met the masseur. We talked for a few minutes about where I hurt, and he got to work.
He used a lot of pressure and it hurt like hell while he was doing it, but I feel really great now. Even the glute that's been sort of sore for a few weeks feels fine, and the Achilles tendon's finally stopped bothering me, although I don't think I can chalk that up to the massage.
I feel so good right now I'm not even dreading the hill repeats on the bike tomorrow.
Monday, May 7, 2012
I'm so glad I didn't drive my car today
Lately, I've been on the early shift, which means I'm getting off work around 3 pm.
This is great as I've got swim practice from 5:30 to 6:30, so the plan today was to ride the bike to work, then come home, shove the gym stuff into the panniers and head out.
It's 6 miles to the gym (downhill there, uphill back), and when I left work the wind was blowing so I almost talked myself out of taking the bike.
"Oh, it's windy. I'll be hurting coming back, and I have to run tomorrow morning."
It's close enough to summer that the trip home is in the daylight (not that riding in the dark ever stopped me, but it does make a handy excuse), so eventually I won (or lost, depending on how you look at it) the argument with myself and rode the bike to the gym.
I'm so very glad I didn't chicken out and take the car.
The wind was dying down a bit as I headed out, so it certainly wasn't unmanageable and I had a lovely ride under the blue spring sky (the sky in LA is normally sort of a taupe color - the winds blow all the smog out) down to the gym, where I had a wonderful swim with the new coach.
Then, I sat in the steam room, hit the showers and headed back home.
The ride home was just before sunset, so the sky was turning that nice orange color, and the mockingbirds were starting to sing - I love mockingbirds when they're not imitating car alarms outside my bedroom window at 3 am - and these were singing their hearts out (or warning other birds away from the tree. It's all good), treating me to a car alarm-free tune.
I had enough of a tailwind that I didn't even notice the gentle hill, and got home just as the sun set.
Just think what I would have missed had I driven.
This is great as I've got swim practice from 5:30 to 6:30, so the plan today was to ride the bike to work, then come home, shove the gym stuff into the panniers and head out.
It's 6 miles to the gym (downhill there, uphill back), and when I left work the wind was blowing so I almost talked myself out of taking the bike.
"Oh, it's windy. I'll be hurting coming back, and I have to run tomorrow morning."
It's close enough to summer that the trip home is in the daylight (not that riding in the dark ever stopped me, but it does make a handy excuse), so eventually I won (or lost, depending on how you look at it) the argument with myself and rode the bike to the gym.
I'm so very glad I didn't chicken out and take the car.
The wind was dying down a bit as I headed out, so it certainly wasn't unmanageable and I had a lovely ride under the blue spring sky (the sky in LA is normally sort of a taupe color - the winds blow all the smog out) down to the gym, where I had a wonderful swim with the new coach.
Then, I sat in the steam room, hit the showers and headed back home.
The ride home was just before sunset, so the sky was turning that nice orange color, and the mockingbirds were starting to sing - I love mockingbirds when they're not imitating car alarms outside my bedroom window at 3 am - and these were singing their hearts out (or warning other birds away from the tree. It's all good), treating me to a car alarm-free tune.
I had enough of a tailwind that I didn't even notice the gentle hill, and got home just as the sun set.
Just think what I would have missed had I driven.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Bicycle Christmas!
Twice a year, the city of Los Angeles sponsors CicLAvia, which closes streets downtown to cars and lets the cyclists, runners, roller bladers, etc.. take over the streets.
It was conceived as a way to force Angelenos to interact with each other and think about our streets as a public, shared space, and it's become so wildly popular that it's starting to become a victim of it's own success, but despite the crowds, it was a wonderful way to cruise downtown. This event always leaves me with a huge smile on my face.
The next event is in October, and I wish it was sooner. I always have such a good time!
It was conceived as a way to force Angelenos to interact with each other and think about our streets as a public, shared space, and it's become so wildly popular that it's starting to become a victim of it's own success, but despite the crowds, it was a wonderful way to cruise downtown. This event always leaves me with a huge smile on my face.
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| Double Dutch in the street. |
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| Pinata district. Yes, this is a real thing. |
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| Fairy wings, and a sweet Xtracycle. |
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| Steel drums. Gave the intersection a Caribbean feel. |
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| Car-Free streets! Yay! |
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| Traffic jam |
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| 4th St. Bridge, downtown, closed to car traffic. |
The next event is in October, and I wish it was sooner. I always have such a good time!
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Road Rage
In general, I find the vast majority of drivers that I meet to be fairly courteous towards cyclists.
Sure, one has the occasional problem, but really, when one considers the traffic volume of Los Angeles, it's amazing that there are any cyclists left alive.
Most of the time, if I'm involved in any sort of incident, it's unintentional and the driver gives me that sheepish smile and small wave, and I smile and wave back because it's all good and no one got hurt.
But every so often, someone behind the wheel of a car is a callous, horrible, soulless asshole who deliberately tries (and succeeds) to seriously injure a cyclist.
Over the weekend, cyclist Susanna Schick, aka Pinkyracer, was hit by a car driven by a horrible excuse for a human being who got angry about an exchange of words that was probably completely trivial, chased down a woman on a bicycle, hit her with his car and then drove off.
Yeah, that's a real man, there. That'll show that cyclist who is the boss. Duders.
The full story is on BikingInLA, along with a link to a fund to help her pay for medical bills, since she has a concussion, broken collarbone, six broken ribs and a shattered pelvis, among other injuries.
Reading this was especially poignant today, after nearly going 'splat' on my morning ride.
A friend, who rode the L'Etape du California (a fancy French phrase for "horrible long uphill grind from hell"), wanted to do a recovery ride today, so we did a few loops of San Vicente Blvd. here in West LA.
It started out nice - the street was full of cyclists and runners, the sun was out and it was a gorgeous morning, even if I was hungry and talking about bacon way more than I should have.
On our third (and final) loop, we were slowing down as we approached a stoplight and a lady driving a giant SUV (of course) cut us off in order to wedge her boat into a parking space.
By slamming on the brakes, we missed hitting her door by about two inches. If she'd chosen to pull that move 100 yards earlier when we were riding faster, we both would have hit her.
Of course, as we rode by, we shouted at her.
Not anything cruel, but more along the lines of "Hey, watch it".
Lucky for us, she just looked sheepish (no smile or wave, though), and we rode past.
How many times have we all done this?
Although I like to solve problems with a smile, I'm certainly not above yelling at someone if they're making a really bone-headed move.
I've never had anyone chase me down and my first instinct is "get on the sidewalk, that way the car can't hit you", but I'm willing to bet that whatever happened to Pinkyracer happened so fast she couldn't do anything about it.
It's inexcusable, horrible and makes me really hope that if the police do find the guy who was driving the car, they throw him in prison with gang members and puppy kickers.
But they probably won't find him, so if anyone can afford any donation to help her, please do so.
And if you're in your car, try to give the cyclists some warning before you pull across the bike lane. That would be awesome. Remember, we're just trying to get where we're going in one piece.
Sure, one has the occasional problem, but really, when one considers the traffic volume of Los Angeles, it's amazing that there are any cyclists left alive.
Most of the time, if I'm involved in any sort of incident, it's unintentional and the driver gives me that sheepish smile and small wave, and I smile and wave back because it's all good and no one got hurt.
But every so often, someone behind the wheel of a car is a callous, horrible, soulless asshole who deliberately tries (and succeeds) to seriously injure a cyclist.
Over the weekend, cyclist Susanna Schick, aka Pinkyracer, was hit by a car driven by a horrible excuse for a human being who got angry about an exchange of words that was probably completely trivial, chased down a woman on a bicycle, hit her with his car and then drove off.
Yeah, that's a real man, there. That'll show that cyclist who is the boss. Duders.
The full story is on BikingInLA, along with a link to a fund to help her pay for medical bills, since she has a concussion, broken collarbone, six broken ribs and a shattered pelvis, among other injuries.
Reading this was especially poignant today, after nearly going 'splat' on my morning ride.
A friend, who rode the L'Etape du California (a fancy French phrase for "horrible long uphill grind from hell"), wanted to do a recovery ride today, so we did a few loops of San Vicente Blvd. here in West LA.
It started out nice - the street was full of cyclists and runners, the sun was out and it was a gorgeous morning, even if I was hungry and talking about bacon way more than I should have.
On our third (and final) loop, we were slowing down as we approached a stoplight and a lady driving a giant SUV (of course) cut us off in order to wedge her boat into a parking space.
By slamming on the brakes, we missed hitting her door by about two inches. If she'd chosen to pull that move 100 yards earlier when we were riding faster, we both would have hit her.
Of course, as we rode by, we shouted at her.
Not anything cruel, but more along the lines of "Hey, watch it".
Lucky for us, she just looked sheepish (no smile or wave, though), and we rode past.
How many times have we all done this?
Although I like to solve problems with a smile, I'm certainly not above yelling at someone if they're making a really bone-headed move.
I've never had anyone chase me down and my first instinct is "get on the sidewalk, that way the car can't hit you", but I'm willing to bet that whatever happened to Pinkyracer happened so fast she couldn't do anything about it.
It's inexcusable, horrible and makes me really hope that if the police do find the guy who was driving the car, they throw him in prison with gang members and puppy kickers.
But they probably won't find him, so if anyone can afford any donation to help her, please do so.
And if you're in your car, try to give the cyclists some warning before you pull across the bike lane. That would be awesome. Remember, we're just trying to get where we're going in one piece.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Starting over
Today was my first day back on the road bike since Solvang. I've taken a few trips on the commuter, but nothing resembling actual training - like keeping a minimum cadence or speed or paying attention to form.
Since I'm going to be working long hours for the next few days, I decided to do a brick today - 2 hours of hill repeats on the bike, followed by a slowish run (out of the water, yay!).
Admittedly, the hill I did was a very gentle hill, maybe a 2 % grade, if that, but I've lost enough lung power in the few weeks since Solvang that the first lap really made me wheeze, especially trying to maintain 90 rpm.
Once I warmed up, though, I was fine, and as a bonus today was a beautiful day with temps in the 70s and blue skies.
Also, the coral trees are blooming, and they make me happy. I thought they were poinsettia trees for the longest time until someone with actual knowledge of botany set me straight and kindly didn't mock me.
After my ride (26 miles in two hours. Not great, but good enough for the first day back), I went for a nice easy run. The heel held up very well, which is good, but just to be safe when I got home I sat in a tub of cold water for 10 minutes.
The cold water that comes out of my tap is impressively cold (or maybe that's just because in my old place the cold water was tepid on a good day), so much so that I'll go completely numb after sitting in just cold water for a few minutes.
Which is good, because not only do I not have an ice-maker, I don't have space in my freezer to store half a bag of ice.
The two ice trays I have are full of serving sizes of the raw food diet I feed my cat (whole different story there).
So - tub of cold water for 10 minutes.
Tomorrow, before work, I'll go swim, and that will have to do for the rest of the week.
Since I'm going to be working long hours for the next few days, I decided to do a brick today - 2 hours of hill repeats on the bike, followed by a slowish run (out of the water, yay!).
Admittedly, the hill I did was a very gentle hill, maybe a 2 % grade, if that, but I've lost enough lung power in the few weeks since Solvang that the first lap really made me wheeze, especially trying to maintain 90 rpm.
Once I warmed up, though, I was fine, and as a bonus today was a beautiful day with temps in the 70s and blue skies.
Also, the coral trees are blooming, and they make me happy. I thought they were poinsettia trees for the longest time until someone with actual knowledge of botany set me straight and kindly didn't mock me.
After my ride (26 miles in two hours. Not great, but good enough for the first day back), I went for a nice easy run. The heel held up very well, which is good, but just to be safe when I got home I sat in a tub of cold water for 10 minutes.
The cold water that comes out of my tap is impressively cold (or maybe that's just because in my old place the cold water was tepid on a good day), so much so that I'll go completely numb after sitting in just cold water for a few minutes.
Which is good, because not only do I not have an ice-maker, I don't have space in my freezer to store half a bag of ice.
The two ice trays I have are full of serving sizes of the raw food diet I feed my cat (whole different story there).
So - tub of cold water for 10 minutes.
Tomorrow, before work, I'll go swim, and that will have to do for the rest of the week.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Solvang: An 80 mile ride followed by an uphill hike in bike cleats
I'd agreed to do Solvang with a friend, as this would be her first century ride and she wanted some company, and the course winds through the Santa Ynez valley which is incredibly gorgeous.
Since this is a big ride and every hotel within 30 miles of Solvang was booked solid, I stayed at an overpriced 'inn' in Santa Barbara - of course, just about everything is overpriced in Santa Barbara, including the gas, the parking and the air.
I drove up to Solvang Friday night to get checked in and check out the bike expo:
The expo was really cool with some great prices on stuff I don't need. I bought a nice low-profile helmet for $30, and a graphic jersey for $25. I wanted more stuff, but I have to keep the budget in mind.
A few other friends were at the ride as well, doing the metric century, so after we got our packets, we headed to dinner at a local restaurant which was having an all you can eat pasta special.
I headed back to the hotel, and managed to get about 5 hours of sleep, which is about normal for me.
The next morning, as I pulled into Solvang at 6 am, the temperature readout on my dashboard read 32 degrees. As in freezing 32 degrees. With heavy fog. This presented a dilemma on my part. Bundle up to stay warm on the first part of the ride, and then have to figure out where to stow all the additional clothing as this ride doesn't allow one to drop clothing at SAG stops, or wear a manageable amount of clothing and freeze for the first part of the ride?
Since the weather forecast called for a high of about 78, I opted to freeze early and have less weight later.
Although it was ultimately the correct choice, I regretted it for the first 20 miles. I couldn't feel face, feet or hands, but the hands were the worst. They were so cold I was having trouble pulling the brake levers.
After SAG 1 at 20 miles, it warmed up to 'brisk'. It was still chilly, but at least I could feel my extremities.
This was, by far, the biggest ride I've done. There were several thousand participants, and while I'm certainly not stating that everyone who rides a road bike is a douchebag, it did seem like everyone who rides a road bike and happens to be a douchebag decided to do Solvang.
Although the ride organizers had asked riders to please share the road by staying to the right, there were packs of riders blocking traffic, team riders blowing past and cutting off slower riders, passing on the right, etc..
Lucky for me, there were also some very, very nice folks riding with us slowpokes.
Once the clouds burned off, we entered the beautiful rolling hills. My friend was trying to maintain 16 mph average, which is too fast for me, but I stubbornly tried to keep up with her.
About mile 50 I pulled into SAG 2 and realized I'd gone out too fast and burned my legs. I broke the bad news to said friend that I wasn't going to be able to keep up with her, so she shouldn't feel bad about leaving me.
The roads through most of the ride were really, really rough. California's not known for our smooth highways, but some of these roads were just insane. I didn't take very many photos because between the roads and the wind gusts I was afraid to take my hands off the handlebars.
The rough ride made the patches of smooth pavement seem just like heaven, though.
At mile 70, we started a gentle climb (well, it would have been gentle had it not been at mile 70) past some wineries. I was getting tired from the climbing and the wind, so I slowed down and chatted with a very nice lady until about mile 80, when I decided to speed up a bit as I didn't want to be out on course too late.
Right after mile 81, I heard the ominous metallic clank of something going very, very wrong with my bike.
Turns out, it was a broken spoke.
Which is good because eventually it's a simple and inexpensive fix, but bad because with another 20 miles of steep climbing, it meant my ride was pretty much over.
There was no emergency number on the route sheet, so I asked one of the passing cyclists to please inform the folks at SAG 4 that there was a rider on the course with a mechanical problem. Since I had no way to detach the spoke from the wheel (the one thing I don't bring...), I had no choice but to wait. But I'm impatient, so I walked. Up a hill. In bike cleats. Fun.
Also, since I have the plastic Look style cleats, they were pretty much wrecked from what turned out to be about a two mile slog.
Eventually, my savior appeared - a volunteer in a minivan who very, very kindly drove me back into Solvang.
Since there were no timing chips, it's not like it counted, and I did get to go over the very, very steep hill in a car.
Then, I stowed my bike and consoled myself with french fries and sausage at one of the local Danish-themed restaurants.
I caught up with my friends, all of whom finished their rides, and we poked around the expo a bit more until the insane traffic jam died down.
Solvang, while a quaint and lovely town, really can't handle the traffic of 4,000 cyclists all driving away at once.
When I got back to the hotel, I went for a swim in the pool and a soak in the hot tub, which I know isn't really good for my muscles, but boy did it feel good.
The next day, I got up, went for a Recovery Swim in the pool, had a Recovery Hot Tub, followed by a Recovery Omelet and a Recovery Bloody Mary at a local cafe.
I then packed up the car (tip: always bring a sealable bag for stinky clothes), and headed home, stopping at the outlet mall in Camarillo for some Recovery Shopping.
This will be the last out-of-town event until Vineman in July, so I can start doing some shorter rides, thankfully!
Since this is a big ride and every hotel within 30 miles of Solvang was booked solid, I stayed at an overpriced 'inn' in Santa Barbara - of course, just about everything is overpriced in Santa Barbara, including the gas, the parking and the air.
I drove up to Solvang Friday night to get checked in and check out the bike expo:
 |
| This is only the back half of the line. It curves around and goes into the hotel. |
The expo was really cool with some great prices on stuff I don't need. I bought a nice low-profile helmet for $30, and a graphic jersey for $25. I wanted more stuff, but I have to keep the budget in mind.
A few other friends were at the ride as well, doing the metric century, so after we got our packets, we headed to dinner at a local restaurant which was having an all you can eat pasta special.
 |
| Mmmm.. Pasta. The place was packed with cyclists carbing up. |
I headed back to the hotel, and managed to get about 5 hours of sleep, which is about normal for me.
The next morning, as I pulled into Solvang at 6 am, the temperature readout on my dashboard read 32 degrees. As in freezing 32 degrees. With heavy fog. This presented a dilemma on my part. Bundle up to stay warm on the first part of the ride, and then have to figure out where to stow all the additional clothing as this ride doesn't allow one to drop clothing at SAG stops, or wear a manageable amount of clothing and freeze for the first part of the ride?
Since the weather forecast called for a high of about 78, I opted to freeze early and have less weight later.
 |
| Fog, lifting, although it was still so cold I couldn't feel my hands. |
Although it was ultimately the correct choice, I regretted it for the first 20 miles. I couldn't feel face, feet or hands, but the hands were the worst. They were so cold I was having trouble pulling the brake levers.
After SAG 1 at 20 miles, it warmed up to 'brisk'. It was still chilly, but at least I could feel my extremities.
 |
| The madness of SAG 1. It was packed. |
This was, by far, the biggest ride I've done. There were several thousand participants, and while I'm certainly not stating that everyone who rides a road bike is a douchebag, it did seem like everyone who rides a road bike and happens to be a douchebag decided to do Solvang.
Although the ride organizers had asked riders to please share the road by staying to the right, there were packs of riders blocking traffic, team riders blowing past and cutting off slower riders, passing on the right, etc..
Lucky for me, there were also some very, very nice folks riding with us slowpokes.
Once the clouds burned off, we entered the beautiful rolling hills. My friend was trying to maintain 16 mph average, which is too fast for me, but I stubbornly tried to keep up with her.
 |
| Riding on the shoulder of the 101 freeway |
About mile 50 I pulled into SAG 2 and realized I'd gone out too fast and burned my legs. I broke the bad news to said friend that I wasn't going to be able to keep up with her, so she shouldn't feel bad about leaving me.
 |
| The riders thinning out after SAG 2. This was about mile 55. |
The roads through most of the ride were really, really rough. California's not known for our smooth highways, but some of these roads were just insane. I didn't take very many photos because between the roads and the wind gusts I was afraid to take my hands off the handlebars.
The rough ride made the patches of smooth pavement seem just like heaven, though.
At mile 70, we started a gentle climb (well, it would have been gentle had it not been at mile 70) past some wineries. I was getting tired from the climbing and the wind, so I slowed down and chatted with a very nice lady until about mile 80, when I decided to speed up a bit as I didn't want to be out on course too late.
 |
| Blue skies and a decent road. |
Right after mile 81, I heard the ominous metallic clank of something going very, very wrong with my bike.
Turns out, it was a broken spoke.
Which is good because eventually it's a simple and inexpensive fix, but bad because with another 20 miles of steep climbing, it meant my ride was pretty much over.
There was no emergency number on the route sheet, so I asked one of the passing cyclists to please inform the folks at SAG 4 that there was a rider on the course with a mechanical problem. Since I had no way to detach the spoke from the wheel (the one thing I don't bring...), I had no choice but to wait. But I'm impatient, so I walked. Up a hill. In bike cleats. Fun.
Also, since I have the plastic Look style cleats, they were pretty much wrecked from what turned out to be about a two mile slog.
Eventually, my savior appeared - a volunteer in a minivan who very, very kindly drove me back into Solvang.
Since there were no timing chips, it's not like it counted, and I did get to go over the very, very steep hill in a car.
Then, I stowed my bike and consoled myself with french fries and sausage at one of the local Danish-themed restaurants.
I caught up with my friends, all of whom finished their rides, and we poked around the expo a bit more until the insane traffic jam died down.
Solvang, while a quaint and lovely town, really can't handle the traffic of 4,000 cyclists all driving away at once.
When I got back to the hotel, I went for a swim in the pool and a soak in the hot tub, which I know isn't really good for my muscles, but boy did it feel good.
The next day, I got up, went for a Recovery Swim in the pool, had a Recovery Hot Tub, followed by a Recovery Omelet and a Recovery Bloody Mary at a local cafe.
I then packed up the car (tip: always bring a sealable bag for stinky clothes), and headed home, stopping at the outlet mall in Camarillo for some Recovery Shopping.
This will be the last out-of-town event until Vineman in July, so I can start doing some shorter rides, thankfully!
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
A few more shots from Death Valley
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| Panamint Valley Panorama (click image to enlarge) |
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| Rusty wheels, Borax Works |
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| Panamint Valley, with my toes in the sand of a prehistoric lake bed. |
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| Paceline, speeding past me. |
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| Wagon, Furnace Creek Ranch |
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Ride Report: Death Valley makes a mockery of my ambitions.
The week before the race, a friend of mine gave me such a good pep talk, that I almost thought I had a chance of completing the 150. "It'll be great!" I told myself. "I just have to ride like hell for the first half, and then I can coast!"
Needless to say, I didn't finish the 150, but I did manage to go 100 miles (Yay me!), plus I learned a few things which will come in handy for Rachel vs. Death Valley, the Rematch.
After picking up my rental bike (steel may be real, but I needed a lighter bike) and tent, I got on the road about 11 am. Since Death Valley is about a 5 hour drive from Los Angeles and I really needed to get to the campsite and get the tent set up before dark (my idea of roughing it is a hotel with no room service, so I don't have a lot of experience with tents), I drove like hell, figuring I could stop and enjoy the scenery on the way back.
I got to the park, got my campsite, and miraculously, managed to get the tent assembled with minimal pain.
No one warned me about rental tent smell. Pee-Eeew. If there's a next time, I'm bringing some Febreeze.
After said tenting, I drove over to Furnace Creek Ranch to check in and pick up my ride packet, which consisted of directions and a lip balm.
I then purchased a shower/pool pass to the pool and went swimming before showering. The pool at Furnace Creek Ranch is fed by a warm spring, so there's no chlorine and it's about 82 degrees. Awesome.
After a shower and dinner at one of the overpriced eateries on the ranch property, I headed back up the the tent to get some sleep.
Little did I know that the Texas Spring campground is apparently Death Valley party central. The noise died down after 10 (thanks to our awesome campground host), and I got my revenge at 5 am Saturday morning when my very loud alarm went off.
I drove down to Furnace Creek Ranch, got the last of my stuff together, and lined up for the start.
Although I'd hoped to be in wave 2, which left at 6:20, I ended up in wave 4, which left at 6:40. There were cutoff times at each of the aid stations - of course, for the 150 ride, those cutoff times required a much higher speed than did the century course. After hearing tales of gale-force winds from people who had done the ride before, I got a bit nervous, but the wind seemed to be holding off, so all seemed fairly well.
It was in the 40's, and my legs were so cold that, for some reason, my leg warmers kept falling down. I had to stop at the first aid station to drop my seat a bit (that's what I get for not doing a test ride on the bike) and pee.
The rental bike (an aluminum Fuji) seemed just fine - it did very well over the rough-ish roads, but the first 40 miles of the course were 'rollers', low hills, and it became apparent very early that this bike wasn't really geared to climb. I was averaging a decent pace on flats and downhills, but was slowing down on the hills. Still, though, no winds, so all was well.
Most of the pacelines were going way too fast for me (that's not the bike's fault, it's my legs), so it was just me and the empty roads and the silence. Since I live in a large city, silence is something I'm not really used to, but it was nice.
Then, just as I was feeling confident, the wind picked up. Not gale force, like the horror stories from last year, but a good steady 16mph.
Just enough to slow me down to the point where, when I got to the second aid stop, I was warned that I might not make the time cutoff.
Then, I started the first climb. It became apparent very quickly that rental bike was SO not geared to climb. My heart rate soared and my speed dropped and dropped and dropped until I was going at about walking speed. A very, very old man on a beach cruiser (I think) passed me, as did an ambling coyote, and at one point, a snail.
So, it wasn't much of a surprise at the Jubilee Pass 50 mile marker I was told that I'd missed the time cutoff and would have to turn around.
I said "oh, darn", but inwardly I thought "Yay!". That first climb was tough, and the second climb, I'm told, was worse.
I turned around, rolled down the hill (but kept braking as I'm still to scared to go much over 25 mph) and turned back, into a headwind.
The wind, while I was climbing, had shifted 180 degrees, and I'd have a headwind in both directions.
Thanks, Death Valley, thanks a lot.
The entire way back was all about fighting the wind and the rolling hills, and the fact that I now urgently needed a restroom. Over each rise, each curve, I kept looking for Badwater and it's welcoming toilet, but each time I'd just see more desert.
The wind, of course, never let up. The pacelines were long gone, so it was still just me, fighting the wind and really needing a restroom.
After the second Badwater stop is when I really started to hurt. I wasn't cramping up, I was just sore and tired, but since this particular ride won't SAG riders in unless there's some sort of catastrophic injury, my only option was to keep riding.
At one point, I stopped, got off the bike, bent over and tried to stretch out, but this alarmed anyone passing so much ("are you okay? Do you need help?") that I didn't do it again. Plus, it didn't help. My butt hurt, my back hurt, my feet hurt, my neck hurt. Hell, even my hair hurt. I can't imagine the suffering of the poor bastards who tried to cross this desert in a covered wagon (and eventually on foot after the livestock died for lack of forage).
After what seemed like an eternity, the end finally appeared:
The last blissful mile was all downhill into Furnace Creek. I coasted into the ranch, checked in and informed them that I'd dropped down to the 100 miler, and finally got off that damned bike.
Between the winds, the hills, and the general unprepared state of my legs, my official time for the 100 mile ride was 9 hours 20 minutes. That stinging sensation - it's my pride.
I'm not all that fast and I know it, but NINE hours? Were my neck not so sore, I would have hung my head in shame.
Instead, I limped over to the car, threw the bike in the back, grabbed my swimsuit (and some fresh clothes), and headed for the pool.
After floating and stretching, I showered and limped into the restaurant, where I rewarded my self with a plate of undercooked risotto and a beer.
It was easy to spot the cyclists. We were all limping. I chatted with a few fellow riders, and then headed back to the campground, where I stayed awake long enough to brush my teeth and then fell fast asleep despite the noisy campground.
The next morning, I got up, limped around, packed the car and then went back to Furnace Creek Ranch for a recovery swim in the pool, since the last thing I wanted was to get back on the bike.
I swam a few laps, stretched, had breakfast and then headed out. I stopped a few times to check out the scenic views and whatnot.
Of course, on the drive out of Death Valley, there were no winds. Not even a breeze, and the temperature was 78 degrees. Just Death Valley saying "Next time, take the car".
So, for the Rachel vs. Death Valley rematch:
#1. Compact crank and geared for climbing. I made the mistake of assuming that light weight would equal speed. So not true.
#2. Suck it up and pay for the hotel room. Camping sucks ass.
#3. Bring a bike with aerobars. That wind is a bitch.
#4. Get in an earlier start wave.
On the bright side, I didn't cramp up, I didn't have dehydration issues, and I still managed 100 miles.
Sweet.
I have to give credit to AdvendureCORPS, who put on a very nice race. The volunteers were wonderful, the aid stations were wonderful, the route was wonderful, and despite my not making my cutoff, I'll definitely be back.
Needless to say, I didn't finish the 150, but I did manage to go 100 miles (Yay me!), plus I learned a few things which will come in handy for Rachel vs. Death Valley, the Rematch.
After picking up my rental bike (steel may be real, but I needed a lighter bike) and tent, I got on the road about 11 am. Since Death Valley is about a 5 hour drive from Los Angeles and I really needed to get to the campsite and get the tent set up before dark (my idea of roughing it is a hotel with no room service, so I don't have a lot of experience with tents), I drove like hell, figuring I could stop and enjoy the scenery on the way back.
I got to the park, got my campsite, and miraculously, managed to get the tent assembled with minimal pain.
 |
| Houston, we have tent. Note rocks as the ground is way, way too hard for tent stakes. |
After said tenting, I drove over to Furnace Creek Ranch to check in and pick up my ride packet, which consisted of directions and a lip balm.
I then purchased a shower/pool pass to the pool and went swimming before showering. The pool at Furnace Creek Ranch is fed by a warm spring, so there's no chlorine and it's about 82 degrees. Awesome.
After a shower and dinner at one of the overpriced eateries on the ranch property, I headed back up the the tent to get some sleep.
Little did I know that the Texas Spring campground is apparently Death Valley party central. The noise died down after 10 (thanks to our awesome campground host), and I got my revenge at 5 am Saturday morning when my very loud alarm went off.
I drove down to Furnace Creek Ranch, got the last of my stuff together, and lined up for the start.
 |
| The fast riders. Note that I am not among them. |
It was in the 40's, and my legs were so cold that, for some reason, my leg warmers kept falling down. I had to stop at the first aid station to drop my seat a bit (that's what I get for not doing a test ride on the bike) and pee.
 |
| Badwater aid station. With toilets! |
The rental bike (an aluminum Fuji) seemed just fine - it did very well over the rough-ish roads, but the first 40 miles of the course were 'rollers', low hills, and it became apparent very early that this bike wasn't really geared to climb. I was averaging a decent pace on flats and downhills, but was slowing down on the hills. Still, though, no winds, so all was well.
Most of the pacelines were going way too fast for me (that's not the bike's fault, it's my legs), so it was just me and the empty roads and the silence. Since I live in a large city, silence is something I'm not really used to, but it was nice.
 | |
| Not a good place to break down, but impressive! |
Then, just as I was feeling confident, the wind picked up. Not gale force, like the horror stories from last year, but a good steady 16mph.
Just enough to slow me down to the point where, when I got to the second aid stop, I was warned that I might not make the time cutoff.
Then, I started the first climb. It became apparent very quickly that rental bike was SO not geared to climb. My heart rate soared and my speed dropped and dropped and dropped until I was going at about walking speed. A very, very old man on a beach cruiser (I think) passed me, as did an ambling coyote, and at one point, a snail.
So, it wasn't much of a surprise at the Jubilee Pass 50 mile marker I was told that I'd missed the time cutoff and would have to turn around.
I said "oh, darn", but inwardly I thought "Yay!". That first climb was tough, and the second climb, I'm told, was worse.
I turned around, rolled down the hill (but kept braking as I'm still to scared to go much over 25 mph) and turned back, into a headwind.
The wind, while I was climbing, had shifted 180 degrees, and I'd have a headwind in both directions.
Thanks, Death Valley, thanks a lot.
The entire way back was all about fighting the wind and the rolling hills, and the fact that I now urgently needed a restroom. Over each rise, each curve, I kept looking for Badwater and it's welcoming toilet, but each time I'd just see more desert.
 |
| Pretty! |
 |
| Scenic! |
 |
| It's a bunch of damn rocks. I no longer care. Where's the freakin' toilet? |
 |
| Badwater, thankfully. |
 |
| This is my "It's mile 75 but I feel so relieved" face |
After the second Badwater stop is when I really started to hurt. I wasn't cramping up, I was just sore and tired, but since this particular ride won't SAG riders in unless there's some sort of catastrophic injury, my only option was to keep riding.
At one point, I stopped, got off the bike, bent over and tried to stretch out, but this alarmed anyone passing so much ("are you okay? Do you need help?") that I didn't do it again. Plus, it didn't help. My butt hurt, my back hurt, my feet hurt, my neck hurt. Hell, even my hair hurt. I can't imagine the suffering of the poor bastards who tried to cross this desert in a covered wagon (and eventually on foot after the livestock died for lack of forage).
After what seemed like an eternity, the end finally appeared:
 |
| Oh, thank God. |
Between the winds, the hills, and the general unprepared state of my legs, my official time for the 100 mile ride was 9 hours 20 minutes. That stinging sensation - it's my pride.
I'm not all that fast and I know it, but NINE hours? Were my neck not so sore, I would have hung my head in shame.
Instead, I limped over to the car, threw the bike in the back, grabbed my swimsuit (and some fresh clothes), and headed for the pool.
After floating and stretching, I showered and limped into the restaurant, where I rewarded my self with a plate of undercooked risotto and a beer.
It was easy to spot the cyclists. We were all limping. I chatted with a few fellow riders, and then headed back to the campground, where I stayed awake long enough to brush my teeth and then fell fast asleep despite the noisy campground.
 |
| I wish drivers in LA were as courteous as the drivers were in Death Valley. Seriously, all the drivers were incredibly nice. |
 |
| What is this booth thing with the phone? |
The next morning, I got up, limped around, packed the car and then went back to Furnace Creek Ranch for a recovery swim in the pool, since the last thing I wanted was to get back on the bike.
I swam a few laps, stretched, had breakfast and then headed out. I stopped a few times to check out the scenic views and whatnot.
Of course, on the drive out of Death Valley, there were no winds. Not even a breeze, and the temperature was 78 degrees. Just Death Valley saying "Next time, take the car".
 |
| Borax Works |
 |
| Info sign |
 |
| Ruin |
 |
| Wait.. what? |
So, for the Rachel vs. Death Valley rematch:
#1. Compact crank and geared for climbing. I made the mistake of assuming that light weight would equal speed. So not true.
#2. Suck it up and pay for the hotel room. Camping sucks ass.
#3. Bring a bike with aerobars. That wind is a bitch.
#4. Get in an earlier start wave.
On the bright side, I didn't cramp up, I didn't have dehydration issues, and I still managed 100 miles.
Sweet.
I have to give credit to AdvendureCORPS, who put on a very nice race. The volunteers were wonderful, the aid stations were wonderful, the route was wonderful, and despite my not making my cutoff, I'll definitely be back.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
It builds character
One of the things the training plans for just about anything mention is called a 'mental toughness day'.
Since you can't control conditions in races, you may have to power your way through rain, wind, dust, heat, plagues of locusts, etc..
With that in mind, I headed out to PCH for a long ride. Leaving my house it was a bit windy, but by the time I got to the coast the winds were very, very strong, and, of course, blowing south so as I rode north I got the full brunt of it (plus the occasional gust from the side, which was a surprise).
Although I desperately wanted to turn around, go home and curl up with a warm blanket, I kept riding. I knew I wasn't going to make my targeted distance of 100 miles, but I figured if I could just go a little further I'd be fine.
I stopped briefly at a farm stand where they had freshly dug green garlic (so tasty). I didn't have a backpack or bag since I was on the road bike, so I shoved the garlic up the back of my jersey, which made me smell great (I'm sure of it).
I continued up the coast, eventually turning around at Leo Carrillo beach, which is 30 miles from my house.
So I did 60 miles instead, but it felt like 100 in that wind. Even going back, when I should have had a really good tailwind, I still got gusts from the side.
Mental toughness, right?
The really interesting thing is that today, my legs aren't hurting at all, and they probably should be. I guess that's a good thing.
My nether regions are hurting like hell, though. Forgot to bring the chamois cream with me. I won't make that mistake again.
Since you can't control conditions in races, you may have to power your way through rain, wind, dust, heat, plagues of locusts, etc..
With that in mind, I headed out to PCH for a long ride. Leaving my house it was a bit windy, but by the time I got to the coast the winds were very, very strong, and, of course, blowing south so as I rode north I got the full brunt of it (plus the occasional gust from the side, which was a surprise).
Although I desperately wanted to turn around, go home and curl up with a warm blanket, I kept riding. I knew I wasn't going to make my targeted distance of 100 miles, but I figured if I could just go a little further I'd be fine.
I stopped briefly at a farm stand where they had freshly dug green garlic (so tasty). I didn't have a backpack or bag since I was on the road bike, so I shoved the garlic up the back of my jersey, which made me smell great (I'm sure of it).
 |
| I don't know what a Zuman is, but apparently it's vital. |
 |
| Enough! I turn around! |
Mental toughness, right?
The really interesting thing is that today, my legs aren't hurting at all, and they probably should be. I guess that's a good thing.
 | |
| Bridge over the California Incline. The troubled waters are to the west. |
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