First Century: Tarwheel

I just completed my fastest century ever, at 7 hours and 30 min. Actually, it helped that the course was completely flat, there was little wind, and the weather was sunny and mild (70 degrees -- perfect!)

The ride went from Elizabeth City west, then south, then northeast. I saw Hertford and Edenton, both charming little towns on Albemarle Sound. There is deep, rich history to this part of the Carolina coast. There was farmland on either side of the road for nearly the entire ride. Sometimes the water lapped on near the side of the road. In a few places, near both sides of the road.

My bike rode like a charm. At 90 miles I noticed how it was gliding noiselessly across the landscape. I had taken the time to clean it after riding in the rain last weekend. I also cleaned the chain and re-lubricated it.

And, the old body held out pretty well, too. I had a little soreness in the right knee, but by evening it had passed. If that's the worst I get out of a century, I will count myself lucky!

It's interesting how people prepare for a long bike ride. I've been giving lots of thought to preparing for this early season century. I took a long bike tour in March, and did a 75-mile rehearsal the week before. It was a stretch to go to 100 from 75, but I took the risk because Tarwheel was so flat. And, once on the road, I tried to take it easy for the first segment -- just so I'd have something in the tank at the end.

On the ride, however, there were clearly people who were not ready. As they rolled into the 25-mile rest stop, they were clearly in pain. They had that look on their face that indicated this was not working out. And, once dismounted, they would walk away gingerly toward the picnic tables. Now, keep in mind, there was nothing difficult about the first 25 miles. It was like the rest of the ride: flat, cool, calm, sunny, and smooth. So one has to wonder what folks expect on an endurance bike ride. Do they not know how to pace themselves? Is the century the first time they climbed on a bike this year? Ever? If so, I admire their pluck (if not their judgment).

The Dry Run

Yesterday, the Saturday before Easter, I did my long-planned dry run for a century. I rode a 75-mile loop from my home in Springfield to Alexandria, Shirlington, Vienna, Reston, Ashburn, Reston, Fairfax City, George Mason University, and home. Well over half of this ride was on bike path or 'side path'. In fact, when I mapped this on MapMyRide.com, I named it 'Bikepath Madness'.

First, some comments on the route: It was not flat! As I left Alexandria along Four Mile Run (about the 18 mile point), I climbed from sea level to 400 ft. The Washington and Old Dominion Trail does a lot of gradual ups and downs. The ride beside the Fairfax County Parkway seemed like an endless upgrade slog. High-speed cyclists normally don't notice these gradual climbs, but if you're trying an endurance event, conserving your energy, you really have to guard against early burn-out.

It's been a while since I've ridden the length of the W&OD. While the Park Authority has been able to remove many of the at-grade crossings, there are still several places where you lose significant momentum. There's a cross walk in Herndon that makes you wait an eternity for a green. And, Saturday traffic does not give you a break for a 'guerilla' crossing.

But, at many of the other at-grade crossings, an interesting sociological pattern has emerged. Even though bike riders are required to stop and cars have the official right-of-way, drivers are inclined to stop and wave the rider across. This is a new development! I remember waiting forever at the side of a busy road while traffic streamed past, oblivious. I'm guessing that enough drivers have found themselves on a bike waiting to cross, and this creates a change in the behavioral norm. Either that or I found the nicest six people in Northern Virginia yesterday.

The purpose of a dry run is to check out all the systems -- including the body -- before traveling to a century. I'm trying to see what hurts and what doesn't. It's nice to know that nothing really became the 'locus of pain' for this ride. At the age of 58.8, there are really a lot of things that can go wrong, so I take this as spectacularly good news. In fact, some of the things I was worrying about (my Achilles tendon, for example) bothered me so little that I didn't remember there was a question about them until the next day.

It took some major determination to actually jump on the bike Saturday morning. I had set a 7:30 AM start as my goal. It turned out to be a cool and soggy day. The rain showers continued until into the 6AM hour, and the roads were soaked. The overcast never cleared up all morning, and there were some un-forecasted lingering showers. I think if I did not have the motivation of century preparation, I would have bagged the ride. And, as the family gathers on Easter morning, I know I won't ride on Sunday so this would have been a lost weekend.

And, I would not be where I am now, feeling that great sense of achievement you get when you've pushed your own envelope. 75 miles is about ten miles longer than I've ridden in over six years. I allowed myself to break all the nutritional rules last night and have a strip steak and baked potato. It tasted great!

And, to the key question: am I ready for next Saturday's Century? At the 75-mile point, after 2500 feet of climbing (according to my altimeter watch), I felt tired but not 'burned out'. I think, given the fact that the century will be flat, I should be able (just) to roll through the last 25 miles. And, once you have the first one done, the rest just get easier!

Gadgets

One look at my bike and you know I have a problem: I like gadgets. I have a GPS and a cyclometer, a map case, a bell, and an inclinometer. (That last is not even a word, but it measures the grade of the hill with a little bubble.) I've tried a lot of different gizmos and several different designs of the same gizmo over the years.

I find it interesting to ponder the evolution of the cyclometer. This is a mileage- and speed-measuring device. In the deep past, we used to have an odometer mounted on the front fork. It had a little gear that would be rotated by the spokes. It was purely mechanical, and I think you had to convert revolutions to miles.

We pretty quickly switched to little electronic devices that were connected to the front wheel magnet pickup by a small wire. These became available about the same time as the digital watch. (Yes, I can remember the days before the digital watch!) They could record speed, trip distance, and overall distance (odometer), along with average speed.

Today, cyclometers have done away with the cord and are almost all wireless. I remember the problems we had in the 1990s with the early wireless cyclometers. Stray electronic signals would activate the device. I would sit at a traffic light, and the cyclometer would read 50 miles an hour. It turns out that the red light sensor would transmit on the same frequency as the computer. Another early wireless device did not like being mounted next to the early GPS. Every now and then the speed would go haywire.

I had been using a wired cyclometer for many years, mostly for the above reasons. Early this spring, it bit the dust. So, I have been trying out a new wireless cyclometer. Happily, the new generation does not seem to be influenced by all that interference. Thus, my gadgets are in harmony and I can ride, again, with a smile on my face.

Anticipation!

Well, it's been a pretty good two weeks. My ankle has healed, allowing me to put on a little more mileage, a lot more frequently. I was able to get out in the mornings -- the best time to ride -- for the past several days. The big test will come on Saturday. I've planned a 75-mile 'dry run' of the century. I'll rest up on Friday, and spend Sunday (Easter) recovering.

A few more rides next week, and we light this candle: April 30 Tarwheel Century. My wife and I will drive to Elizabeth City on Friday night, and the ride will begin at 8AM on Saturday.

It's an understatement to say that I've been churning over the Tarwheel for several months now. Most of my cycling, and a large portion of my life has been organized around preparation for this milestone. The last full century I completed was in July 2005, in Wenatchee Washington. After three more aborted attempts in 2005, my bike riding tapered off.

Bicycling and Weight Loss

There has been much written about this subject, and I think I've bought all of it. My weight loss has been mostly due to biking, so let me offer the million-and-first thought on the subject.

I think the books and the literature have it backward. They suggest that weight loss is a good reason to go bike riding. The exercise is often presented as part of a 'larger' weight-loss program. For me, it worked the other way. Let me explain:

I bike with a smile. I enjoy the ride when I'm on it, re-experience it as I fall asleep, and focus great attention on the next one. I talked to a life-long runner yesterday, and he did not have the same attitude toward running.

In my current drive to lose weight, the cycling came first. I got into serious portion control and counting calories, fat, and fiber only when I realized that without losing weight I would not achieve my century goals. In fact, I believe weight gain was one of the reasons I stopped doing centuries in 2005.

I think we all recognize that weight loss is a 'mind game' we play on ourselves. For me bicycling is the reason to lose the weight. Sixty three pounds of it as of this morning!

The way I see it, I've lost three bikes worth of weight. (Okay, three really light bikes -- but they're getting heavier!)

Early April - Building Slowly

Blogging about bicycling has been light lately. The weather has not been particularly cooperative -- especially to those of us who have to concentrate our riding on the weekends. Plus, my foray into California Wine Country seems to have placed excessive strain on my Achilles tendon. Thus, while I had planned to hit daily mileages in the 70s this weekend, reality will drop that to somewhat less. A century at the end of the month will be a challenge, but not insurmountable. A fast century will have to wait until summer.

But, Saturday has arrived and I've been to the doctor about the tendon, so I'm preparing to put some mileage into the books. I'm leading a Potomac Pedalers ride on Sunday: an old favorite out in Warrenton through Virginia horse country. I'm hoping the weather will cooperate (showers are forecast), and that I can connect with other cyclists. Unfortunately, a restaurant that had been a favorite post-ride gathering place for the Pedalers, Napoleons, has closed. Welcome to the New Century!