Ritual and The Road

Prior to leaving on our trip to the northeast, I completed my usual pre-race ritual.  This primarily includes going over the bike, from tip to tail.  The point is to minimize the chance for 'controllable' issues.  Once I'm on-course at  Battenkill, there will be many things I cannot control, but bike maintenance is not one of those things.  I added a new chain as well, which has already improved my shifting.  I plan to properly break it in tomorrow on the streets of NYC.

The hard training rides are done, the statistics have been crunched, and now the consternation begins.  I'll spend tomorrow relaxing in the city with Sarah and Jill, but my mind will want to wander to the race start, the first hills, and the mad dash through the covered bridge. 

I've got my new set of Conti Gatorskin Hardshell tires, and am excited to give them a try.  I went with size 25 for extra grip on the steep ascents and for a little extra cush on the gravel descents.   See, my heartrate is already going up...

After a two-day (and very scenic) trip from W-S through the Shenandoah valley and now to NYC, Coach and I are staying with her sister about two blocks from Grand Central.  The view is killer, and the city is alive.  More later, with pics from the city and our upcoming trip to Saratoga Springs and Cambridge, NY on Friday. 

Country to Colony

Quick post, more later:  Saddled up with the fatha'-in-law today and rode from Courtland, VA to Williamsburg, VA.  Beautiful weather, great company, and around 58 miles of fun.  Oh, and sunburn...

hello, aloe.

Goin' for the 'Kill - Day #95.

Hard to believe we're finally in the home stretch!

The Tour of the Battenkill is next Saturday, and I can hardly wait. Erich's training has gone really well to this point. I think it's safe to say that it's been a pretty fun process for both of us, though I won't exactly miss the one or two (or 37) lonely dinners! But his form is the strongest it's been in a long time (maybe ever), and I think his personal goals for this race are well within reach. I'm really looking forward to watching it all unfold, bringing this whole adventure full-circle.

E has officially begun his taper down to Race Day, which is mostly about maintenance, rest, and fun. Tomorrow he plans a ride from my parents' house to Williamsburg, Virginia = a 55-mile effort at a moderate pace. The intensity of his upcoming weekend rides will pale in comparison to the last 3 months, but he'll still have plenty of saddle time for good measure.

And I'm in hopes the CLM will send him off in style on the Monday Night Ride before we take off for New York on Tuesday. The forecast for New York City and upstate New York calls for rain for three straight days - right up until the cool, cloudy sunshine projected for Race Day! Perfect racing weather...fingers crossed that the forecast holds.

So if you've hung with us this far, stay tuned! No matter the outcome, the adventure is right around the corner...

Mindless and loving it.

I was still feeling a bit stiff (ok, a LOT stiff and quite sore) from yesteday's ride when I checked the weather forecast this morning.  Hmmm....rain, but probably not starting 'til after lunch.  I had some coffee, started a few chores, then texted the CLM looking for folks willing to forego a little Sunday morning relaxation in exchange for City Loop recovery ride.  Brad got back to me, so we agreed to head out around 10:30.

The remarkable thing about today's ride was the very low mental cost.  Some rides, especially the difficult ones and almost all races, require quite a bit of mental energy.  Perhaps better words might be 'mental stamina' and 'focus.'  When you are searching your body for the last micrograms of energy just to get over a hill, mental fatigue can sneak in.  "I don't want to do this anymore..." Even if the body could go for a few more miles, the mind is done.

A few years ago, I signed up (and sort-of trained) for the 3 Mountain Madness -basically a supported Triple Hump ride but with some miles cut out as is starts closer to the hills themselves.  I rode it with a friend, a Type I diabetic, who was really in fantastic shape.  The best part about riding with him was his need to stop on occasion to check his sugar and eat properly.  This gave me the opportunity to stop and rest often, which I needed.

The last climb on that route is Pilot Mtn.  Standing 1500 ft above the surrounding countryside, it is a monadock - a solid remnant of a once mighty mountain range. 

The route to the top is just under 3 miles, twisty, and with plenty of switchbacks and kickers.  It would be a GREAT place for an uphill time trial...or even the mountain top finish of a road stage. Rich and I hit the bottom together, but I started cramping immediately.  I had about 65 miles in my legs and nearly 7000ft of climbing in already.  But, here comes the mental part:  Jill and her family drove up from W-S that morning to watch the final climb.  I knew they were on the mountain somewhere, but not exactly where.  With cars and cyclists all over the place, it was madness.

If it had been a different day, without Jill's family, without the expectation of that climb and finishing that ride, I'm not sure I would've made it.  I was delirious and with every rotation of my legs, I jerked and wiggled due to the muscle spasms.  I was truly afraid that my legs woud seize, leaving me stationary and flailing, just before falling straight over.

Well, that didn't happen.  I made it up, and even back to the finish.  But just like yesterday (which was easily harder than 3MM as we completed it in half the time I took in 2007 and really only stopped once), the mind is a major part of the equation when things get hard.  Call it discipline, call it character, call it whatever you want, but there is some flexible zone of achievement can span the distance between the body's limits and the mind's goal.  Not always is this bridge long enough, or sturdy enough, but it exists and can be called upon when it really matters.  It's a life lesson as well, one that I am learning.  I have to thank cycling for some of that.

So why the 'mindless' reference in the title today?  Brad and I just spun, yapped, and talked about life.  No stress, no cramping, no threshold, no heart rate monitor in sight.  The weather was overcast, and the air thick with humidity despite the low temperatures.   The ride is now over and I feel refreshed, not exhausted. 

Good thing, because Coach is coming back from Charleston today and I need to get this place cleaned up!

In short...

...that was painful.  Brad and I left from Pinnacle in the crisp cool air around 9:30, planning to pull a big chunk of the 3 Mountain Madness route.  Here's a profile of the 75-mile route (which we did not do), but you get a sense of the rollers and the climbs as we DID tackle all three biggies.  Check the section between mile 40 and mile 60 - nothing but up and downs (more later):

At first, I wasn't planning on hitting Pilot at the end.  Then Brad reminded me that it was supposed to be a hard ride.  'Race simulation' if you will.  I went out today with hopes of riding in Zone 4 most of the way with trips into Zone 5 on some of the rollers and definitely the big climbs.  Well, I certainly got that.  Brad and I traded off pulls for most of the way, and essentially rode two-up on the climbs.  I was really pleased about that latter aspect as half-way up Hanging Rock, I realized he was riding a compact chainring set.

Aside:  When I sold my Trek 2200 and bought a Cannondale CAAD9 a few years ago, I swapped a standard crankset for a compact crankset.  All of a sudden, I could climb just about anything in sight without lumbering out of the saddle like some drooling neanderthal on a bike.  I think Brad was taking it easy on me, as now that I'm back on standard gearing, just getting up all three climbs is an achievement.

We crested Hanging Rock, turned around, and descended at break-neck speed.  Brad later let it slip that he is the slowest descender of his friends, which is frightening as Dr. J seems almost fearless in my book.  The real trick to this ride is not the massive monuments you must climb, but all of the stuff in between.  By stuff, I mean the rollers.  There is almost no flat asphalt up there (see the map above), and we had a steady headwind / crosswind for the majority of the ride.  That said, we pushed hard anyway - up and down, up and down, up and down...2 minutes of climbing (me out of the saddle, Brad sitting and having a cold beer) followed by 30 seconds of screaming descent.  Now, repeat about 30 times. 

I felt my legs soften after Sauratown, with a few cramps sneaking in on Taylor Rd. as we cleared the foot of the mountain.  This happens sometimes, and I think it has more to do with a toxic buildup in my legs as I descend (and don't pedal as much) than with fatigue...you'd think the cramps would hit on the climb, but no...

The rollers between Sauratown and Pilot were the worst, just as Brad promised.  We were down to 10mph in places, just grinding it out.  Finally, we spied Pilot in the distance.  The weather was cool, but the chilled wind brought us unlimited visibility.  The knob was crystal clear and taunting me.  I'd told Brad that Pilot would be a 'game-time decision' for me, but once we were at the foot of her slopes, I knew what I had to do.  "Leave it all out here," Brad said.

Luckily, I'd hydrated and eaten well, so I felt somewhat recovered at the base.  Up we went.  I started slowly, as the steepest section is about halfway up.  Once you clear that hard right switchback (those who've been there know what I'm taking about), you're home free.  We had a few cars to deal with, but only on the descent did they get in our way.  The view at the top was breathtaking, as usual.  No time for that, though, gotta shove some food in and keep going. 

Our descent was just as harrowing.  In those moments, rocketing down some mountain road towards a hairpin turn, my mind may wonder to many places: "I hope I checked the tires for damage after that last off-road ride" and even "There must be a limit to how hard I can lean on these things before they just give..."  That last one only snuck into my mind after I nearly overshot a left-hander while trying to make up time on Brad.  The tires are great by the way, and the Cervelo goes down as well as it goes up. 

We kicked it with gusto coming back into Pinnacle and returned to the car.  I had exhausted my 3+ bottles, eaten all of my food, and finished the ride without significant cramping and feeling 'okay.'  Could I have ridden back to W-S if we'd gone for a full Triple Hump?  Maybe, but not with any amount of impressive speed. 

The stats are fuzzy as I didn't do a good job with the speedo.  Brad had us at 60.8 miles, averaging in the mid- to high 16s.  Not what coach ordered, but possibly more if we'd measured watts and calories.  I am relatively sure we bested 5000' of climbing, and perhaps more.  the 75-mile 3MM route offers nearly 9000' and we did the bulk of the hard work in our shorter route. 

If fatigue is any indicator, now that I have eaten a bit and done some laundry - I have not felt this wiped-out in a long time.  Possibly since my last 55-mile training ride.  Even the TMK training camp ride (as abbreviated as it was for us) was less harsh. 

Big thanks to Brad.  Recovery ride tomorrow.  But, most importantly: beer tonight.

Test Day.

Tomorrow is the last really hard, obscenely painful, ridiculously crushing ride I'm supposed to do until I saddle up on April 10.  It's been a fascinating journey thus far:  from December when a 30-mile ride induced a blurry-eyed, peanut M&M feeding frenzy to last night, when I almost finished the Thursday Night World Championship ride with the fast boys.  Those rides are still harder than most any race a Cat 4 will ever do.  It's not time to get sappy yet, so I'll hold off for now...

Brad called me up today and, knowing I was thinking of going to Boone, deftly talked me out of it and into riding with him.  I've ridden with Brad several times, but never one-on-one.  I know he's got quite a bit of cycling history under his saddle, includng a podium at the 2009 Pisgah Mountain Bike Stage Race.  He and his teammate are in the orange/black/white in 2nd place.  This pic was in cyclingnews.  We are proud to claim him as part of the CLM.

So, we're heading out of Pinnacle tomorrow around 9am, aiming to get in around 62-65 miles.  Coach has given strict orders for a race-effort ride (not sure what a non-race effort ride is like anymore, to be honest) to equal the distance of the Battenkill:  100 kilometers.

Interesting that it's just two of us, as it will absolutely prohibit me from sitting in or resting too much.  I expect the Battenkill to be many things, but I do not expect it to be a race in which I have a lot of time to rest.  Even if a large group stays together, the variety of the course will demand 100% attention at all times.

So, with a glass of merlot and a belly full of protein and carbs, I hit the hay.  Expect a post-ride, post-nap, beer-tinged update tomorrow.

Refreshment

A quick note about today's group ride.  Coach approved a mid-week foray into the group ride scene, so I found the hardest one around (on Tuesday, anyway).  Tonight we were forced to a shorter (28 mile) distance as the sun is still setting pretty early.  Barry came along to get a little intensity before Boone-Roubaix. 

Usually, there are two distinct groups:  A and B.  Barry and I rolled out with who we thought were the A folks (Scott Morris and Ken Craven among them), but shortly after descending Conrad did we find ourselves all together in a group of around 30 folks.  No real action until the end of Bethel Church Rd., where a skyward pitch beckoned to the climbers and early selections were made.  Unfortuately for Brother Barry, he was chillin' in the pack, enjoying a cold beer and mixed in among the B riders when the surges started.  The gap was soon pretty big and Barry was stranded.   I looked back for him, then poured out some Gatorade for my lost comrade, and soldiered on at Mach 3 carrying the CLM colors. 

Coming back into Lewisville, we rolled up and over Turbo Hill with a select group of around 6-7.  I felt great and very comfortable despite the speeds.  In classic Erich style, I spaced out when it came time to set-up for the sprint and scratched my head as Scott rolled away from the group.  "Oh man, the sprint line is that 'right turn ahead' sign and not the old Lewisville town limit sign."  Doh.  I stood up and cranked it but there ain't no catchin' Scotty when he's motoring for the line.

All in all, a great time.  We averaged 21mph for 28 miles, and it was very friendly.  Reflecting on the effort involved, it is striking how much harder my training rides have been than these group rides.  I do not mean to say I am as fast or faster than the guys on that ride, but the feeling of pure exhaustion that follows the 50 and 55 mile training rides puts these rides to shame.  I am sure that will change as the days lengthen and the locals dust off the cobwebs...