Bike Noob

Because I'm Always Learning Something New

I Went Out Too Fast

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I can’t count the number of times I’ve seen it — cyclists complaining that they would have had a great ride, but they set too fast a pace during the opening miles, which wore them out for the finish.  Taking my cue from those experiences, I went into Saturday’s Outlaw Trail 100 in Round Rock, Texas, planning to take the first third of the ride easy, pick up the pace in the middle third, and have plenty of fuel in reserve for the last third of the ride.  The best-laid plans…

I always get a kick out of meeting riding friends at or near the start of these rides.  John T, who is new to biking this year and rides with me from time to time, was there.  He was planning to start with the 100-milers, but do the 63-mile route.  I ran into a couple of folks I’ve met on rides once before, and at the starting line I rendezvoused with Rick, my riding buddy from my bike club, and Torsten, a Twitter buddy whom I’ve met before but never ridden with.

 

John T., left, and Rick.

 

 

Torsten.

 

The police car siren sounded at precisely 8 a.m. and we were off.  I settled in next to Torsten, who is 6’7″ and probably the biggest guy I’ve seen on a road bike.  (By the way, his new blog, “Giant On My Bike,” is worth a visit.) I knew he was a strong rider, but the pace was easy at the start, and he and I fell into a general conversation.

Rick was with us, too — unfortunately, I think we left John T. behind pretty early.  I sensed that I was riding at a faster than usual pace, but I felt good, and kept up with Rick and Torsten.

In the crossroads town of Weir, the two of them got a jump on me at a stop sign.  This time I couldn’t catch them, and although I continued my faster pace, they disappeared off in the distance.  I caught them several miles later, when they stopped to wait for me at the second rest stop, which I skipped.

For the next 25 miles or so, I could tell that I was pushing it.  They’d get out ahead of me, and I’d get down in the drops to get more power to my pedals.  I’d catch them, and then they’d pull away again.

The Granger Dam marks the halfway point of the 100-mile route.  I had stopped to take some pictures of the lake, but could feel the complete lack of zip when I started up again.  There’s a rest stop at the far end of the lake, and I took advantage of the opportunity to unwind.

 

A tired Noob resting at Granger Lake, only 55 miles into the ride.

 

We got going again, and again I had trouble keeping up with Torsten and Rick. At about 60 miles, Torsten said, “Guys, I’m taking off.  Nice riding with you.”  We said our goodbyes, and in minutes, he was out of sight ahead on the road.

At the next rest stop, about 69 miles into the ride, I was spent.  I seriously considered grabbing a ride in with one of the many Round Rock Park Dept. pickups that were serving as sag on this ride.  But Rick said, “I”ll ride ahead of you to block the wind. If you fall behind, yell ‘I’m off!’ and I’ll slow down for you.”

Now began the slog.  The 16+ mph pace we had kept up for the first half of the ride slowed perceptibly.  Rick could have ridden at a much faster speed, but he stuck with me.  At the 78-mile rest stop, I felt almost rejuvenated — a relative term, but at least I could keep up.

 

Some of the farmland typical of the route.

 

I was uncomfortable, though, because I had two hot spots on the balls of both feet.  They made pedaling very uncomfortable.  By now, the temperature was in the upper 80s (30ºC) and I started to slow again.

Rick suggested I put Chamois Butt’r on my feet.  A small packet of the stuff came in our goody bags, and I had stuck it in one of my jersey pockets.  At the last rest stop, I shed my shoes and applied the soothing lotion.

It sort of worked, but by now, it didn’t matter.  The finish was in our sights, and I struggled to keep up with Rick as we passed other bikers on the way in.  The wind from the south was quite brisk now, and I could feel my skin burning under the hot sun.  I couldn’t figure out how Rick managed to wear his arm warmers right up until the last rest stop.  We crossed the line, and met Rick’s wife, Penny, who was waiting for us after doing the 40-mile ride.

I was disappointed in my total time: 7 hours and 41 minutes.  I had done this ride in 7:15 two years ago.  But my computer showed the on-the-bike time to be 6:39 — only six minutes slower than in 2008.  Average speed was 15.2 mph — higher than I thought it would have been, given the trouble I had over the last 30 miles.

So — what do I take away from this experience?  Obviously, it’s to make a plan and stick to it.  I had a plan, but instead of telling Torsten early on that it was nice to ride with him, but I’m going to take it easy, I let hubris take over.  After all, I had gotten in better shape, added many more miles to my yearly riding totals, and had done more long rides to prep for the century.  And now, I could hang with this big guy.  If I’d stuck to my plan, I should have easily bettered my last time, especially in light of the nearly perfect riding conditions.

The other takeaway is the importance of a good riding partner.  Without Rick, I wouldn’t have finished the ride at all — I would have sagged out at 70 miles.  His patience let me complete my third century.  Rick never spoke about his own riding plan (“I’m just looking to finish the course,” he said), but I’m sure I wrecked any thoughts he had of finishing in a respectable time.  Thanks, pardner.

Are you a century fanatic?

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This heat wave won’t last forever. I’m looking ahead to more reasonable weather, with lots of long rides. In fact, I’m toying with the idea of riding another century.

It seems that many cyclists set riding a century (100 miles) as a long-term goal. They put in the hours and the miles training for it, then it comes. They manage to get through it, and have a rush of exhilaration that comes from reaching their goal.

When I finished my century, I had the “been there, done that” feeling. It wasn’t something I expected to do anytime soon again. I trained for the MS 150, which if it went off as scheduled, would have involved a 99.6-mile first day. As you know, that was rained out, and we only did the second day, about 77 miles. It took me longer to ride the 77 miles because of the huge field and a longish lunch stop than it did to finish the century.

So I haven’t been piling on the miles since then. My long rides are in the 30-35 mile range, and that’s just fine with me. That’s still over two hours in the saddle. Besides, my mileage is picking up, and so is my strength. I can ride faster for longer distances than I could two months ago. So what the heck — should I plan on doing another century?

Luckily, because summers are so hot in Texas, we’re in a lull in organized rides. I’ll have time to boost my mileage to do the hundred miles, and I  have several choices. There’s the Waco Wild West in September, the Outlaw Trail 100 in October, and the holy grail of Texas centuries, the Hotter ‘n Hell Hundred in August. That’s up in Wichita Falls. It’s a Texas happening, with over 11,000 riders, and several days of bike-related activities. Problem is, the hotel rooms are all booked. I’d have to find some other accommodation.

So I haven’t decided for sure yet. I haven’t even decided if I am going to ride 100 miles again.

But there are lots of riders out there who are crazy about centuries. They do one, and can’t wait to ride another. Some set a target of a century a month. A couple in my club are heading west to do a double century (200 miles) this weekend.

What camp are you in? Do you like riding centuries, and try to ride in a lot of them? Is it something you would like to try once, just to say you’ve done it? Or are you among those who think riding that far is crazy, and there’s no point to it?

And if you’re targeting a century, which one is it, when will it be, and how’s your training going?

My First Century

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A big day for me: I rode in — and finished — the Outlaw Trail 100 in Round Rock, Texas. Finally, I have a century ride under my belt. And as it turned out, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be.

I thought I was pretty organized. I did most of the work the previous night, loading the car, laying out my clothes. But when I got to the starting area in Round Rock, I found that I had forgotten something — my floor pump. So I figured I’d use the new frame mounted mini-pump to top off the tires. Uh, the pump is broken. It’s missing a piece where the pump attaches to the presta valve. It’s useless.

My blogging friend Jared found me, and I rushed to get myself together to go meet our other blogging buddy, Mike. In my haste, I left the route map in the car. It would have come in handy later. While they caught up on their biking exploits, I borrowed a floor pump from the bike shop sponsors and topped off my tires.

Jared (left) and Mike both showed up in their new Fat Cyclist jerseys. They’re in the starting area with the other 100-mile riders.

Then, we were ready for the race. I cut a most un-athletic figure while waiting at the line.

I’ll try to remember always to face the camera when posing in a cycling jersey (!).

It took about two miles before Jared and Mike were out of my sight. No matter. I had planned to ride at an easy pace throughout the ride. I could see quickly that my easy pace and the rest of the riders’ paces were in two different leagues. Up until the second rest stop, riders continually passed me. Although I was tempted to grab the wheel of more than one rider, I remembered to keep my eye on the prize — and finish, not race.

The ride traveled county roads through eastern Williamson County, Texas. It’s a farming area, known as “Blackland Prairie.” The harvest is in, and the fields are tilled. And the soil is black.

A typical view along the route.

I hadn’t been through here before, so I was interested to see what it looked like. In addition to mostly flat farm fields, we did go through a few small towns. Walburg has some old buildings that harken back to its beginnings as a mostly German settlement.

Doering’s general store dates back to 1881.

The biggest town we went through was Bartlett, the route running right through its business district. On a quiet Saturday morning, there wasn’t much activity.

Bartlett used to be a major cotton shipping point — but cotton declined in the 1930’s, and so did Bartlett. Note the street paved with bricks.

Several miles past Bartlett, I came across the most notable incident of the day. A biker riding the Granger Dam road “caught on something” and went down. A trailing rider crashed into him, leaving the first rider with a broken collarbone. How the accident happened on the straightest stretch of road on the ride, with everyone moving at roughly the same speed and in the same direction, is a mystery.

Emergency vehicles at the accident on Granger Dam Road. That’s Granger Lake on the left.

The rest stop at the far end of the Granger Dam marked the 55-mile point in the ride, and I was starting to feel the miles. My seat had the comfort of a hatchet blade. My foot was singing its usual song. I started to wonder if I would be able to finish.

The advice given about riding a century is to break it up into parts. Ride four 25-mile rides. Or five 20-milers. Since the rest stops were roughly 12 miles apart, I decided to break the remaining ride up into four 12-mile parts. I figured even I could do 12 miles. Then do it again. And again.

That was a bit of a challenge, because as the day wore on, the wind from the northeast picked up. Although the route was generally clockwise, and the wind would be at our backs for much of the second half of the ride, the ride organizers managed to incorporate a surprising number of jogs that took us into the wind. I got onto my small chain ring and just spun and spun.

Riders I had passed miles ago now passed me. With just a few miles to the finish, I was all alone on the road. I turned into the large park where the ride began, and picked up the pace as the finish line approached.

I gotta tell ya, it was a bit of an anticlimax. The announcers were still at their post at the start-finish line. When they saw me coming, they started yelling encouragement on the PA. The theme from “Car Wash” blared. I zig-zagged to the music, and they got a kick out of that. Then, across the line — and no one around to watch.

There were maybe a dozen vehicles left in the parking lot. I couldn’t even find someone to take my picture next to the finish line. But I do have a record that the century is in the books: A shot of my cyclocomputer. The tale of the tape: 101.39 miles at an average speed of 15.47 miles per hour. Six hours, 33 minutes, and 14 seconds on-bike time. Not bad for a Bike Noob. I had expected to finish somewhere between 3 and 3:30 p.m., and I crossed the line at 3:15.

The only place I felt the ride was in my thighs. They were sore, but even that was to diminish within a couple of hours. For once, I hydrated correctly during the ride. I stopped at every rest stop but the first, and mixed up my food choices from stop to stop: banana here, orange wedge there, pickle at this place. And I, who likes long breaks during long rides, managed to keep my time at the stops to about five minutes. All in all, a very satisfying day.

Would I do it again? I don’t know. I’ll be riding long distances in April in the MS 150, but getting out and doing one of these again isn’t tripping my trigger right now. I guess we’ll just have to see. After all, there is the Hotter ‘n Hell Hundred next summer, and I’ve always had an idea that riding in that one would be fun.

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