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Yard work + Heat + Bike + Bike = Knackered

04.01.2012 by Ray Niekamp // 4 Comments

I rode Friday afternoon when I got home from work. A nice 20 miles in the neighborhood with an acceptable average speed. That meant that Saturday morning, I was at Mrs. Noob’s disposal. No way she was going to let me ride again, especially since she knew I’d be on the club ride Sunday morning.

So I turned my attention to the yard. The in ground sprinklers need some help. Some of them aren’t getting all the grass they’re supposed to, so I’ve got some noticeable dead spots. I replaced a couple of sprinkler heads, then hit the doozy. An oak tree growing nearby is spreading its roots so extensively that one of them wrapped around the sprinkler, about six inches underground. Getting that done was a bear. By the time I finished, it was after noon, and the temperature had risen. Combined with the humidity, it was an uncomfortable day. I was bathed in sweat and sunburned.

What better idea under those circumstances than to finally go for a ride? It was 3 o’clock before I got going, was now the hottest part of the day, at 85 degrees (29C). I figured I’d tackle some hills, so headed for Convict Hill. In a 10-mile loop from my house, I get several tough ups on Convict Hill.

After the hill work, I was planning to head for a Mopac loop, because that’s part of the usual Saturday morning ride I do. Combining Mopac with Convict Hill and one turn around the Veloway, I get a nice 27-mile ride. Trouble was, I realized long before I got to Mopac that it wasn’t in the cards. That morning work in the yard had taken it all out of me. I modified my route and wound up with 20 miles once again, but this time felt completely done in.

This morning, we had a big turnout for the club ride. The A’s were going to do a Dam Loop, and we B’s decided to head out with them, but turn around about 17 miles out and head back home. I was looking forward to the ride, because it features “Hail Mary Hill,” a steep bugger that ends in a church parking lot. I had successfully climbed the hill about a month ago for the first time in over a year. I expected to get it again.

The road leading to the hill is wide and smooth, with lots of smaller hills. On one stretch, I hit 40.7 mph — a new all-time high speed for me. I caught and passed another B just before Hail Mary Hill began.

Almost immediately, I could tell I had a problem on my hands. Judy and Laura glided past me like I was standing still. I was standing, all right — standing on the pedals to try to get some oomph before the steep part hit. But when it did, even the standing didn’t help. A little past the halfway point, I unclipped and stopped. My heart was racing. I had no power left. I walked the bike about 100 yards, then climbed back on and pedaled to the church lot.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a cyclist most in want of a break gets the least. I had time to stop, take an extra-long swig from my water bottle, and try to get my breathing under control, when calls of “Let’s go!” rang out. The peloton rolled back onto the street, got the green light, and turned onto the wide shoulder of Bee Caves Road. I missed the light and was well off the back immediately. It didn’t take long before I couldn’t see anyone from the club, but I played cycling tag with a guy who had been left behind by the two riders he was with.

At the turnaround point, in a Walgreen’s parking lot, I was pleased to see that several were inside using the facilities. I had time to eat an oatmeal-raisin cookie my wife had baked the previous day and chat with some of the guys, gawk at Steve’s new bike (“My Madone is good for flat routes. This one [a Kona] is geared for hills”). Then we were on our way back.

Bee Caves Road is a popular biking route. It has a lot of rolling hills, many of them long and challenging. I just wasn’t up to the challenge today. It irked me, because when we did this ride a month ago, I could handle them with little difficulty. Now, I spun easily, often in my lowest granny gear, while I watched the group leave me behind again. Oh well, when we got back to the church parking lot I knew they’d be waiting for me.

They weren’t. I decided to leave the planned route and return the way I came. Less traffic, but the hills were just as tough. I pulled into a school’s front drive and sat on the curb in cooling shade.

I did finally make it back to the Starbucks where the ride started. Everyone had been there for quite awhile, it seemed. I went inside and ordered a large (“Venti” — give me a break, Starbucks) iced tea. Then I waited for them to call my name. And waited. And waited. Finally, I interrupted a “barista” (give me a break, pretentious coffee shops everywhere) and pointed out that people who had ordered after me were getting served, while I was waiting for a crummy tea. It turned out that someone else had grabbed mine by mistake.

Clearly, I hadn’t recovered from the strenuous work of the previous day. Given the shape of my yard, I think I’ll be in for a summer’s worth of hard work on Saturday mornings. I just hope my Sundays turn out better than today, where I was a C among the B’s.

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Categories // Heat, Rides Tags // Rides, slow, tired

Riding Easy is Hard

08.11.2011 by Ray Niekamp // 8 Comments

Today I figured it was time for an easy ride. Lately, I’ve been pushing it hard, doing hills, doing intervals — or fartlek — but generally, including a lot of fast or strenuous riding. Obviously, that can’t continue, and I do bear my overall condition in mind.

So I rode over to the Veloway. Although there are stretches where I tend to really hammer it, I told myself that today I wouldn’t watch the computer, wouldn’t pay attention to cadence. I would just pedal around a few times and head home.

When I pulled in, it turns out there was some sort of organized ride going on. A group that benefits kids had set up a tent and a food and drink table. An ice cream truck tootled away in the parking lot. Lots of people of all ages, mostly in street shorts and cotton t-shirts, pedaled mountain bikes and cruisers around the three-mile track.

I thought the conditions were tailor made for me to do my easy ride. But some of the riders, adults who seemed to be associated with the group, were real bikers. How could I tell? Well, they wore lycra jerseys and padded biking shorts and rode road bikes. I’ve got a problem when I see folks like that on the Veloway — or anywhere, for that matter. I suddenly feel the urge to catch and pass them. I started my first lap, took a swallow from the water bottle, and set out after two guys about 100 yards ahead of me.

It took me all of five seconds to remind myself that today was an easy ride. I shifted down to the small chain ring and rode at a moderate pace. Heck, if you’re going to go easy, go easy. I was going easy, but I sensed that it still wasn’t easy enough.

Then, two guys passed me. I knew they were coming, because I’d seen them when we were opposite each other at a hairpin turn. I expected to be passed. But the second guy — he never should have passed me. He was a big guy with an awkward pedaling style. His knees pointed outwards and he seemed to be one gear lower than he should have been. I applied a little more pressure and drafted him.

Uh, this is an easy ride, remember? I backed off, and watched him pull ahead. Well, at least I could take satisfaction from passing the little girl on the mountain bike.

No I couldn’t. I passed her and felt like a schmuck. The only consolation I could take was that if I hadn’t passed her, I’d be going so slow I’d have trouble staying upright.

That was pretty much the story of the day. I did four laps, 12 miles total — 18 for the round trip from home. I remembered what was drilled into us at a clinic last fall when we had to stay in Zone 2. It was hard then, too. Twice, I passed “real” cyclists. Each time, I recognized the error my ways and slowed down to get repassed by them.

When I turned into my driveway at home, I figured my easy ride had been a bust. I knew I pushed harder than I should have. But the computer said I averaged 14.9 mph for the trip. I compared that to past rides I’d done on that same route. My average turned out to be 16.2. On a couple of occasions earlier this year, I averaged more than  17 mph. OK, I guess I did go easy — sort of. But man, that easy pedaling — that’s hard.

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Categories // training Tags // easy rides, slow

Captain Slow

05.29.2011 by Ray Niekamp // 10 Comments

James May ("Captain Slow")

Last week, I rode with my friend David. It was a standard Saturday morning ride in our area, but with one difference: I’ve gotten faster than him over the last year or so.

“You really should ride with the A group,” he said, referring to our Sunday morning club rides. “Challenge yourself.”

I was sure I wasn’t ready for that yet. The A group consistently leaves me in the dust after several miles into the ride. But this weekend, there was no scheduled B ride. And although I wasn’t crazy about the proposed route, I knew I could break away from the group at a convenient intersection and go my own way. That’s what I told the ride leader I would do.

It’s always fun to start off with a big group. There’s a lot of chatter, and the pace is moderate as we get our legs warmed up. Today’s route took us up a longish hill, a turn onto a street of apartments and condos, then out to Southwest Parkway — a six-lane, divided highway with a wide shoulder.

Before we got to Southwest Parkway, I was off the back. Once I turned onto the highway, the group was out of sight around a bend. When I got up to that bend, they were out of sight for good.

The route turns onto Barton Creek Blvd., a favorite of mine. It’s a wide, smooth road through an upscale residential area. It rises and falls, with lots of curves. I’ve hit my highest speed ever here, and even today I easily cranked it up to 35 right off the bat. But a ferocious wind from the southeast — at my right rear quarter — made me keep my speed in check.

The monster we call Hail Mary Hill was just ahead. I finally got to the point last year where I could pedal all the way up it. It was slow going, in my 34 x 28 gear, but I always finished. Not today. I walked the bike up the hill. When I reached the church parking lot at the top for the usual rest and recover stop, the group was already gone.

I made my way home against a 20 mph headwind.

What’s changed? Last year, I built up mileage early, because I was training for the MS 150. I wasn’t in it this year, so I haven’t been piling on the miles. I do hill work, but my neighborhood hills — as much as they have helped — haven’t prepared me for the bigger grades. I’ve only recently started riding with the club again. Most of my riding up until about mid-May was on my own, or with maybe one other person.

Finally, I turned 60 this year. I know, that’s not an excuse. In fact, there were at least two guys over 60 on today’s ride. They had no trouble keeping up with the pack.

But for me to get back to where I was last year, I’m going to have to work a lot harder. And frankly, I don’t think I want to. The riding I do is keeping me reasonably fit. When I’m out of the club milieu, I can hold my own against most other riders I come across. If I decide to continue riding with the club, it will be on B rides, with slower riders. I’ve never been able to keep up with the A’s — even last year — and I’ve concluded it’s not worth it to me to put in the effort to do it.

The British TV show “Top Gear” has a co-host named James May, who is always getting ribbed by the other co-hosts for his slow driving. They call him “Captain Slow.” If that becomes my new nickname too, well — I’m OK with that.

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Categories // clubs Tags // slow, speed

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