“Buy the ticket, take the ride.” - Dr. Hunter S. Thompson
This is my first bike 'event' and I'm apprehensive about it. However, there's no turning back, riding in these events, particularly impulsively isn't cheap.
Registration: $25
Donation to local charities: $125
Super cool first bicycle jersey with cow on it: $55
Super cool bright green bicycle socks with cow on them: $6
Total for five plus hours of pain: $211
There's no turning back but in this rain I'm reasonably certain even the crazies would wait before heading out. When we get there it's pretty clear and nice. No rain.
My family is with me (how cool is that? - I mean really - I have an awesome family!) and we're figuring if I can hold an 18mph over sixty miles we can end this bad boy in around three hours and be home in time to let the dog out. I'm thinking 18mph might be a tad unrealistic but it's a number to shoot for. I'm bummed because I forgot my HR strap and I tend to use my beats per minute as an indicator of how hard I worked. Nothing to be done about that now. I collect my bling, suit up and head out. I'm carrying two water bottles, one full of frozen G2.
Fashionable in my cool jersey and socks, ready to ride!
I head out following a bunch of riders ahead of me. The route map gave me the impression that I get on this one road and head north for twenty eight miles before turning back at a rest area after getting some food and beverages. This was a lie, one of many.
There are all sorts of turns and what not and it takes me awhile to figure out that I'm suppose to look for these upside down, dayglo orange "Y"s in the road and go the direction they're pointing.
Soon I'm alone, occasionally spotting some rider ahead of me. The roads are great for biking all in all, very low traffic and at this time of morning (10:30) not too bad with the heat/humidity. My number is 404 prompting my son to say, "404 error, the biker can not be found." and the back of my collar reads, "What Hills?" when I hit the first one around mile seven.
It's not horribly long but oh-my-gosh is it steep, hitting gradients of 9 -10%. I immediately learn that I can not stand up on the bike and keep my balance, the stupid thing goes all wobbly. I'm gonna have to pull these hills sitting down. I'll also never forget the utter sinking feeling I got when I crested one hill and saw a sea of rollers coming at me like waves.
"Buy the ticket, take the ride." became a mantra. Not finishing this exercise in stupidity would be boring. I have to know what it's like!
I pull up next to Ralph from Centerville around mile ten. He's a chatty Cathy telling me about being overseas and going to Clemson. A pretty nice guy it seems. I'm trying to figure out a way to politely drop him when he says all miserable like, "You can go on if you want to."
I want to, but decide to hang. I'm not sure why. When we hit the 14mi rest stop he pulls over and I bang on. I have family waiting and a schedule to keep although I'm not about to check my average mph at this point. I come around some corner and stop the bike because I can't reach into the back pocket of my jersey without wrecking. I'm about to try one of my sons experiments he's been dying to find out about.
I pull out a strawberry Clif Shot Energy Gel with Caffeine, tear it open and squirt it into my mouth. It has the consistency of warm, diluted jelly and if you try hard tastes like strawberries. I don't feel a flood of energy but I do feel a bit better in the energy department. I soldier on.
The roads are turning increasingly into chip and tar types. Not a lot of fun. Chip and tar is where they put a bunch of gravel down with a little tar and let the cars pack it in over time. It's an inexpensive way of maintaining these country roads. The trick is to keep your bike where the gravel isn't. My concentration goes way up as my speed goes way down when I begin to hear that 'gravelly' sound under the tires.
This one road I'm on feels like the worlds longest driveway. I'm actually pretty relaxed on it because I know that cars can't get up a serious head of steam on them and it should be lightly traveled. I'm looking with increasing hope at my odometer. I should be nearing the 28mi rest stop. My back and butt are in pretty much full revolt at this time cutting through the Aleve I took before I left.
Some chick goes flying by me headed 'home' saying, "Great lunch!"
I hit the 28mi mark and no rest area. My entire body screams, "THEY PROMISED!!!" and wants to screw it all, turn around and head back. I'm at war with a dual state of being, my mind is saying that we really want to go a bit further for some food and particularly drink since both water bottles are empty while my body is shooting back the finger.
I can feel myself getting dumber like HAL in 2001. Reduced to just turning the crank, an animal with no higher brain function.
At thirty miles I hit the rest area which is a quarter mile off the road on some gravel road. I walk the bike up to it most definitely not wanting to flat. I find a trashcan and put my spent gel pack in it, park my bike and get in line.
Rest stop at 30 miles
I grab some stuff that I figure wont make me puke but also have the sinking feeling that it wont be of caloric use until I get to the finish.
Lunch
I gab some more with Ralph from Centerville before heading back, both water bottles full of water - I couldn't find any Gatorade.
It's getting hot now, the bike thermometer reading 95 degrees. Ten miles into heading back (just twenty to go!) I get the first serious twinge of a thigh cramp.
Uh-oh! This is unexpected news and my complaining butt and back immediately shut up as I frantically send inquiries to the thigh, "What's up?! How can I help, short of stopping or quitting?". When it comes to cramping my legs do not mess around. If cramps 'come on' then I lock up like a tetanus victim in total agony, it ain't pretty. I dial back on the effort and ponder what to do.
I have NO IDEA. If I cramp it's usually AFTER the ride, not during it.
I pull into a driveway and when I unclip both legs start twinging like the full onset of cramps are coming on. I'm squatting over the bike looking like I'm going to poop on it (which is mirroring my thoughts at that moment) and trying hard not to cramp by steering away from any position that will head in that direction.
I gingerly dismount from the bike and do some stretches while going to phase two of my kid's experiment and eating two little chews from Clif Bar Energy Chew Shot Blocks. I like those better than the gel.
Six miles to the next rest area, I barely make it after humping up some horrible hill so slowly that I thought I was going to fall over. They have Gatorade (thank God!) and I'm wolfing that down along with a banana and a strawberry while listening to this two day stud yapping, "I feel great! We should just go ahead and do a double century!" I want to punch him, I'm so jealous. I'm hobbling around and call into my wonderful wife explaining that I have 'technical difficulties' filling her in on the cramp situation. She offers to come get me but I only have fourteen miles to go and I really want to do it (Buy the ticket, take the ride). I also know in my current state it will take about an hour and a half to go the distance.
She's supportive. Thank you for that my love.
Some lady gives me two ibuprofen and I say see ya to Ralph from Centerville again. I'm cranky and back on the bike. Feeling like a dog it's getting harder and harder to understand people when they're talking to you and I absolutely hate my pedals, particularly the left one. As motor function dies the slow death of the hunger strike it's getting increasingly difficult to clipin. At one point I went about a half mile before finally getting the shoe clipped in. Beyond frustrating.
I pull up next to Darwin from Yellow Springs ("D" to his friends). I'm telling him about the cramps and he's advising me in his slow stoner drawl to raise my bike saddle two or so centimeters to work different muscle groups.
I think he's insane.
He offers to ride with me since it's only a mile or so to go. My odometer tells me it's more like three. I hope he's right, he seems convinced that the bike trail crossing is just around the corner. I'm out of Gatorade, having sucked it down at every cramp twinge.
Going up some minor grade hill the cramps come on. My pal for life "D" drops me like a brick and I pull over on the side of the road, glumly dismount and wincingly start trying to stretch out the cramps. While I'm kowtowing to the bike various groups are passing me asking, "Are you OK?" while not breaking cadence. I glumly reply, "Cramps" while hearing various mutters of understanding like, "Too bad." They just want to get home not stop and stare at some crampy loser - there's nothing they can do. I understand.
I feel bad knowing I'm one mile out and my family has been waiting for me for over five hours. The cramps ease and I pedal in.
Heading in...
Honestly, I'll hold the memory of my family sitting under the Yong's sign cheering for me the rest of my life! I'm soooo tired I know I'm not giving them their due but it doesn't mean I don't feel overwhelming gratitude. I spent 4 hours 45 minutes in the saddle and 5 hours fifty minutes on a ride of 59.79 miles. goFast tells me, "Congrats Bill! When you go for distance PRs, forget about the speed as it should be slower. Now for that 59.79... never, I repeat, never end a ride 0.21 miles from a round 10 number! That is bad juju. Always ride around in little circles in the parking lot until it clicks over to 60!" At the time, standing in front of my family all I wanted to do is get off the bike and go home! So I'll have to take this bad juju but I'll keep it in mind in the future.
Am I ready for a century? Nope.
Will I continue trying these things so I can attempt one? Yep :-)
See you on the road
Senior Crampy!
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