Today, John & I rode our last century ride prior to Ironman Arizona. The out portion heading north along A1a put us into a head wind. It rained a bit on and off on the ride north, just enough to coat our bikes and drink bottles with a dirt and grit. You had to spit out the first sip of water as it came in a mixture of mud and fluids. However, the overcast skies kept it from getting hot on the outbound journey. We spotted running buddy, Jen Jones out for her morning run as we passed through Boyton Beach.
We received our dividend of wind assistance on the ride home. It got a little hot as the morning progressed towards the noon hour. John had kept talking about doing a 30 minute run at the end of the ride, but by the time we were in Boca Raton about mile 80 it was getting a bit too toasty. I told John the run was out for me. I had done a 5K treadmill run after our last century 10 days earlier and felt no need to prove that I can run after a century ride.
After stopping at my house, John changed into running shoes and took off for his run. I hosed and cleaned my bike. When I finish, John had yet to return. As a good training buddy, I hosed and cleaned his bike also. He returned the favor by springing for lunch. As he said, I now know what my cleaning services are worth.
With this ride, our very long workouts for IMAZ are done. Completed. In the books. Fini. We had mapped out and have now completed two 20 mile training runs, three century rides, and two 2.5 mile swims. Of course, there were numerous other workouts leading up to and interspersed with these longer workouts. We will do an Olympic bike/run brick this Saturday, then cut way back for the last 2 weeks of taper before the event. All I can say is "Say Amen Somebody!" We have climbed the mountain of workouts and are at the summit of Mount Workout-More. We can now coast downhill to the promised land: Tempe, Arizona.
Showing posts with label bicycling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bicycling. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
And the Heat Just Keeps on Coming!
When John & I signed up for the Arizona Ironman last November, we figured that we would get to do our long runs and rides during the month of October. We expected the Summer heat to have dissipated and cool mornings greeting us as we logged our longest runs and rides. We figured the water temperatures would cool enough to allow us to start practicing our open water swims with the full wetsuits we know we will need for the cold river water in Tempe in November. The weather gods have not cooperated.
We hear from our friends getting ready to run the Chicago Marathon how its literally freezing in Chicago. Meanwhile, we continue with a solid week of record breaking hot days the entire week. I end up cutting my long run Thursday morning somewhat short to a 12 miler due to the heat and my dehydration. Saturday morning, I go to the beach for a planned 2 hours open what swim, but am greeted with rough seas. I return home, do a 10K on the treadmill and go watch my son's soccer game at 10:30 AM in a heat that wilts the young soccer players.
Saturday afternoon, John & I travel to Miami to verify that the local bike shop that Tri Bike Transport uses is still in existence. The shop has changed hands, their web site is not active and the phone number is disconnected. When we get finally get to the shop located in Coral Gables, we are pleased to find the shop indeed is still in business and the staff well informed about the whole bike transport situation. We are not so lucky at the triathlon store, Tri Village, located even further south. John wants a new full wetsuit, but we show up just at the 5 PM closing time. While I'm able to buy some new goggles and some nutrition supplies, the clerk is unwilling to spend the time it would take for John to try on a wet suit. The guy must of had a hot date planned, because he is unwilling to give us the extra time it would take to try and buy a wetsuit. John is not pleased with this lack of customer service. He will not be purchasing a wet suit from Tri Village. Given that we drove down from Fort Lauderdale to southern Maimi-Dade County, I concur with his decision.
As I scope out the Sunday morning weather, I see it will be another in the string of hot days reaching into the mid to upper 90s by 10 AM. I make several calls to fellow riders, but get no takers to my offer to join me in my century ride. John decides he will do his 2 hour swim Sunday morning and his long ride on Columbus Day. Having my own business, I don't feel I can kill half a day on Monday and stick to my plan to ride Sunday.
I start off with 3 other riders, but they all decide to cut the ride short. At about the 20 mile mark, 2 of our group turns back. At mile 25, Tony turns. He is in taper mode for his half ironman in Austin in 2 weeks. I can't blame him. I find a group of 3 other aerobarred tri riders and get a little more of a group ride. But by mile 35, no one is going further north to Palm Beach. I'm on my own. As Tony said before he turned at 25: "Trianing for a full ironman is a lonely pursuit."
I had never made the ride all the way up A1a from Fort Lauderdale to the end of Palm Beach. Its actually a very pretty ride along the Ocean in Palm Beach with patches of shade trees along the way. However, there are also long stretches of open exposed roadway with the sun beating hotter and hotter as the morning progresses. I miss the Texaco gas station my trainer Penn told me about. Fortunately, I have a third water bottle on board and can make it back to another refueling stop. As I work me way back south, I note that there are fewer and fewer bicyclist on the road. Its just too hot to be doing a very long ride and all the smart riders are near the end of their rides or already home. Only an idiot would go on a century ride on a record breaking hot day. That would be me.
I keep working the fluids and nutrition and think that perhaps this is good training for Arizona. Who knows, it might be this hot in Tempe during my the ride portion during the middle of the day. As the miles progress and the temperatures continue to rise, I decide that this is not such a great concept. With every traffic light I have to stop at, I squirt my helmet and head with some water. I'm no longer concerned about heat conditioning as I am about heat exhaustion. I get toward the end of my ride and start to think that I could possibly pass out from this heat. Its near high noon. I decide to cut me ride a bit short and shave 6 miles from the century mark. I finish up at 94 miles and pull into my garage. I go directly upstairs into my bathroom, peal off my riding jersey and shorts and turn on the shower, making sure to keep the water cold. The rest of the day, I keep drinking water. I take a leak once.
Meanwhile, John did his 2 hours open water swim that morning starting about 7 AM. He reports back that the water felt warm. It was clearly too warm to even think about trying out a wet suit. As he planned, this morning he did his century and found it to be similarly hot, hot, hot. At one stop light on his return portion of his ride, he tapped on a drivers window. When the guy opened his window, John asked, "Can you share some of that air conditioning, buddy. Its really hot out here."
The seas were too rough again for me to attempt my 2 hours swim. I also feel like I needed a day to recover from the body slam the heat delivered to me on Sunday. I'll watch the conditions and give it a go in the next day or so.
Speaking of the Chicago Marathon, friend Miranda Jamieson ran a 3:33:42 in Chicago on Sunday in 30 degree temperatures. That's a Boston Qualifier. Way to go, Miranda! By the way, if you could bring some of that cold weather back with you, I'd really appreciate it.
Monday, September 28, 2009
The Intimidator - Clermont Half Ironman Report
Someone told me long ago, there's a calm before the storm. I know; its been comin' for some time. When its over, so they say, it'll rain a sunny day. I know; shinin' down like water. I want to know, have you ever seen the rain? I want to know, have you ever seen the rain? Comin down on a sunny day? Have You Ever Seen the Rain? Creedence Clearwater Revival
The Clermont Half Ironman, called "The Intimidator" by its organizers was a gut check on John and my training to date as we gear up for the full ironman in Arizona in late November. The event turned out to be both intimidating and a gut check on our training.
John had a golf outing with some friends in North Carolina on Friday, so had dropped off his bike and gear bag for me to drive up from Fort Lauderdale. I arranged to pick him up at the Orlando airport around noon on Saturday for the short drive north to Clermont. We checked into our hotel and headed over to the race site to get our numbers and meet up with friends Keith Seago and Jay Greely who were teaming up to do the event as a relay. Keith was scheduled to do the run, Jay was scheduled for the bike and a third buddy, Paul was scheduled for the swim. Unfortunately, Paul had to cancel, so Keith decided to also do the swim.
The days immediately preceding the event were some pretty hot days in Florida. Saturday was no different. I had planned to either ride a portion of the bike course or drive in Saturday afternoon having missed the bike ride 2 weeks prior due forces beyond my control (see my entry on "Life's Curve Balls"). It was so hot, however, that I quickly decided against any pre-race course preview. I wanted to get indoors and out of the heat to avoid any unnecessary dehydration. We spent the afternoon getting our gear ready for the next day and reviewing nutrition and hydration strategies. John, Jay, Keith and I had an early pasta dinner and turned in early.
With the event teed up as a check on our progress, neither John nor I got too worked up about the event. It was viewed more as a training event. In fact, John, knowing my tendency to go out too hard in a race, told me my mantra for the event was: "Pacing, not racing." Thus, race morning, we calmly went through our routines of setting up our gear and bike stations. On my way to drop off my bike, I came across a couple that had seen the car hit me 2 weeks earlier. "Hey, its the guy who got hit by the car," the guy says. "Yes, its me," I reply, "Glad just to be here."
The Swim
As we await the swim start at the edge of Lake Minneola, John says, "I was calm until now. Now, I've got butterflies." "Me too," I say, "I always get them just before the start." Someone points out that the lake has alligators and they only allow swimming in the lake for the triathlons. An interesting fact. I don't know they figure all the activity of a large group of swimmers keeps the alligators away or they just don't give it consideration. Before we know it, the starters have counted down the first group and then our second group. We begin our 1.2 mile swim.
The lake water seems clean, but is murky as mud. If an alligator was in the vicinity, I wouldn't see it until it was too late. In any event, I try to get into a rhythm and avoid the usual bumping and path crossing that typifies a mass swim. Our friend Keith is swimming in the next group wearing green caps. My strategy is to get to the first of 2 turn buoys before any green capped swimmers overtake me. I make the turn and meet that target. However, by the second buoy turn, the faster of the green caps start overtaking me. I manage to get out of the water in 54 minutes, 4 minutes slower than I expected. I'm guessing that the additional time was due to course corrections or a slight current. Keith & John also take longer than expected, so I don't feel too bad about the extra time.
The Bike
At transition, I take some extra time to put on socks with my riding shoes. I also put bike shorts on over my tri shorts figuring the extra padding will be nice for 56, but even better for the 112 on the full ironman. I want to test this new configuration. As I begin my ride, I find the extra shorts to be no problem. In fact they were so comfortable, I forgot to take the riding pants off for the run and completed the race wearing them over my tri shorts.
The bike course is hilly enough that I'm OK with missing the ride 2 weeks prior. If I had done it, I may not have come back. This is a challenging ride with a series of hills. As John said, the extra speed you make on the downhills doesn't quite even out with the extra work on the climbs. Overall, I'm liking the new tri bike and the areo position. However, about 20 miles in, a guy in a black Camaro passes me and pulls over to the side of the road just ahead of me. He is taking up the bike lane and part of the road. To make things worse, the guy swings open his drivers side door to take care of some business. I can't believe this. After having gotten hit by a 89 year old lady who is late for church, I'm about to plow into a guy dressed in black in a black Camaro. Its like God was trying to take me out 2 weeks ago and now the devil wants a shot too. I swing wide and wonder what else Clermont has in store for me.
The bike course includes a hill called Sugarloaf Mountain that has a reputation for being the hardest climb. After going up a series of hills, I wonder if I've already done Sugarloaf Mountain. Then, I make a turn and see it. No mistaking it. A very long uphill climb. I give it what I can, but I don't do much hill climbing. As I get about 3/4ths of the way up the climb, I realize I'm in the lowest (easiest) gears and I've run out of gears. I'm out of the saddle and slowing. I realize I risk coming to a complete stop and falling, so I swallow my pride and dismount. Fortunately, this humiliation only lasts about 20 yards before I remount and finish the climb.
The rest of the ride is fairly uneventful except that at one point on the course, they still have the markings from the ride 2 weeks earlier. As you look down there are three directions. On the left, the is an indication to turn left the has a label stating "1st lap", in the middle a slightly brighter arrow pointing straight ahead, and on the right, a right arrow with the label "2nd lap." I see a rider up the road straight ahead and decide to follow the slightly brighter arrow pointing straight ahead. Coming up behind me, buddy John is not so fortunate. He gets confused and takes a wrong turn. The road does take him back to the course after adding an additional 5 and 1/2 miles to his ride, doing 61.5 miles compared to my 56 mile ride.
At about the 45 mile point on in, I'm kind of tired of the hills and am thinking that I want to be done with the ride and on the run. Its only my second long ride in the tri bike position and I haven't quit worked up the neck and quad muscles to be comfortable on too long of a ride. As I come towards the end of the bike ride, I note that storm clouds are gathering overhead.
Run Through Hell (If Hell was full of rain and thunder)
After racking my bike and changing over to running shoes, I head out of the transition area. I see buddy Keith coming in the other direction. Since the run course is 2 loops of an out and back course covering just under 3.3 miles, I don't know if he is finishing or half way through his run. As I approach the first water stop about a mile in, the rain is falling so hard, I have to remove my sunglasses as they are more a slighting hazard than a help. A few steps later, I feel the cold flow of the cup of water Keith pours over my neck and back. "You'll thank me for that later," he says as he goes by. I realize that Keith has to run his second lap, so I feel pretty good about my progress.
I make my way out to the turn around point and start back. At about the 5 mile mark, I come across John as he crosses the 2 mile marker. He thinks that the course is a one loop out and back and that I'm at mile 11. As we pass each other I say, "Pacing it, not racing it." He thinks I'm running super strong and am rubbing the mantra in his face. In reality, I am just trying to run a nice even pace to finish up this first lap.
As I start on my second lap, my quads that got extra work on the tri bike, now let me know that they are not happy with me. They start twitching on me that lets me know that soon they will be cramping up on me. I start throwing in walk breaks to forestall a total lock up. To add to the excitement, the rain starts coming down in buckets. Its coming down so hard that the run path is covered in flowing water trying to drain off these rolling hills. My quads don't care and don't seem to be helped by the cooler temperatures of the rain. I am now soaked and semi hobbled. I think back on my hydration and nutrition throughout the bike and run and can find no flaws. I think about my pacing on the bike and run. The bike was clearly more work than I am used to doing, but I did try to keep it in a safe mode. No, I think, perhaps my 50 year old body is just not up to exercising for over 6 hours at a shot. Maybe these long triathlons are just beyond what my body can handle. Whatever the issue, I am determined to finish this event if I have to walk it in.
I begin to fear that buddy John will catch me before the finish. I assure myself that this will mean a long ride home in which he lectures me on proper pacing and nutrition. Not a conversation I look forward to hearing. So, I carry on with a run/shuffle and walking when I start to cramp. I make it to the 9.9 mile turn around without John catching up with me. However, as I head back for the final leg of the 13.1 mile run, we cross paths for the last time. John now realizes that he is closing in on me. I have 3 miles to try and hold him off. The rain takes no note. After clearing and heating up the course to a muggy slog, a new storm comes racing across the sky. This time there is lightning accompanied by very close and and very loud, hand of an angry Old Testament God, thunder. Its at this point that I tell the guy running near me that this area of Florida is the lightning capital of the world. People get struck and killed by lightning in these parts. Another very loud crack of thunder comes down from above. I'm beginning to doubt that the Lord wants me to do triathlons in the Clermont area.
The rain again lets up, but its of little matter. The run course is now a river of water soaking our shoes to the point of slowing us runners even more. To add to the fun, the water stops at each mile have run out of water. Its Gatoraide or Coke. Ok, if that's what your stomach wants at this point, but mine wants water. As I come to the 12 mile mark, my right hamstring muscle decides that it too will cramp. I am stopped dead in my tracks. I look behind me as I try to message the camps out of my legs. No sign of John. I start to walk and am able to get a slow jog going again. As I come to the finish, I think to myself that if my buddy John catches and passes me now, there is no justice. I manage to cross the finish line in 7:02. Not a time I am proud of, but one I will accept with several lessons of additional training needed before November 22nd.
As I talk to some other competitors just past the finish line, buddy John comes in about 54 seconds behind me. We congratulate each other and get some water. John starts telling me about his extra miles on the bike. I decide that its his problem. I officially crossed the finish line first and will not have to be lectured to by him. On a very tough day, its the only victory I've got. On the other hand, Keith and Jay took 1st place in the relay division. Jay joked to John that they had a special award for those participants that rode 61 miles.
Post Race
Clearly, if John hadn't added the extra miles, he would have finished about 20 minutes or so before me. However, he too was having the same questions on the course about his ability to double what we did in this half ironman in about 2 months. He starts to use hedging phrases about doing the ironman, but I tell him that you can never think about an endurance event immediately after a tough course like the one we just completed. "Its like asking a woman if she wants to have more children just after she delivers a baby. Its a bad time to think about such things."
As we sit in a picnic shed eating our burgers and hot dogs, the winds kick up really good and the rain starts coming down horizontally. The course finish area starts to break apart and get blown down. The two of us and several other finishers and family supporters also take shelter. As we watch the finish area slowly deteriorate, we note other competitors coming up to the finish line. We all start cheering and clapping for these competitors that are truly getting the worst of it. The least we can do is give them an ovation. With each new finisher, the clapping and cheering gets louder and longer. These triathletes deserve our appreciation and we are happy to oblige.
After the rains die down for the last time, we collect our thoroughly soaked gear bags and walk our bikes back to our vehicle. Along the way, we talk with a triathlete from Miami who has done the Arizona Ironman. He tells us that compared to the course we did today, Arizona will seem easy. We take some solace from his kind words, but realize we have our work cut out for us.
We return to the finish area to be the last people to get messages. We figured we earned this reward. By the time we get back to our hotel, we are hours past the late checkout time and decide to spend a second night in Clermont. We had planned to clean our gear back at the hotel, but its all such a wet mess, we decide to just leave it where it is and put our luggage around it where we can. We shower, relax a little, then go out for celebratory dinner at Chili's with margaritas to lubricate the festivities. We make small talk with the wait staff and discuss the hard work ahead. Its time to step up the training.
The Clermont Half Ironman, called "The Intimidator" by its organizers was a gut check on John and my training to date as we gear up for the full ironman in Arizona in late November. The event turned out to be both intimidating and a gut check on our training.
John had a golf outing with some friends in North Carolina on Friday, so had dropped off his bike and gear bag for me to drive up from Fort Lauderdale. I arranged to pick him up at the Orlando airport around noon on Saturday for the short drive north to Clermont. We checked into our hotel and headed over to the race site to get our numbers and meet up with friends Keith Seago and Jay Greely who were teaming up to do the event as a relay. Keith was scheduled to do the run, Jay was scheduled for the bike and a third buddy, Paul was scheduled for the swim. Unfortunately, Paul had to cancel, so Keith decided to also do the swim.
The days immediately preceding the event were some pretty hot days in Florida. Saturday was no different. I had planned to either ride a portion of the bike course or drive in Saturday afternoon having missed the bike ride 2 weeks prior due forces beyond my control (see my entry on "Life's Curve Balls"). It was so hot, however, that I quickly decided against any pre-race course preview. I wanted to get indoors and out of the heat to avoid any unnecessary dehydration. We spent the afternoon getting our gear ready for the next day and reviewing nutrition and hydration strategies. John, Jay, Keith and I had an early pasta dinner and turned in early.
With the event teed up as a check on our progress, neither John nor I got too worked up about the event. It was viewed more as a training event. In fact, John, knowing my tendency to go out too hard in a race, told me my mantra for the event was: "Pacing, not racing." Thus, race morning, we calmly went through our routines of setting up our gear and bike stations. On my way to drop off my bike, I came across a couple that had seen the car hit me 2 weeks earlier. "Hey, its the guy who got hit by the car," the guy says. "Yes, its me," I reply, "Glad just to be here."
The Swim
As we await the swim start at the edge of Lake Minneola, John says, "I was calm until now. Now, I've got butterflies." "Me too," I say, "I always get them just before the start." Someone points out that the lake has alligators and they only allow swimming in the lake for the triathlons. An interesting fact. I don't know they figure all the activity of a large group of swimmers keeps the alligators away or they just don't give it consideration. Before we know it, the starters have counted down the first group and then our second group. We begin our 1.2 mile swim.
The lake water seems clean, but is murky as mud. If an alligator was in the vicinity, I wouldn't see it until it was too late. In any event, I try to get into a rhythm and avoid the usual bumping and path crossing that typifies a mass swim. Our friend Keith is swimming in the next group wearing green caps. My strategy is to get to the first of 2 turn buoys before any green capped swimmers overtake me. I make the turn and meet that target. However, by the second buoy turn, the faster of the green caps start overtaking me. I manage to get out of the water in 54 minutes, 4 minutes slower than I expected. I'm guessing that the additional time was due to course corrections or a slight current. Keith & John also take longer than expected, so I don't feel too bad about the extra time.
The Bike
At transition, I take some extra time to put on socks with my riding shoes. I also put bike shorts on over my tri shorts figuring the extra padding will be nice for 56, but even better for the 112 on the full ironman. I want to test this new configuration. As I begin my ride, I find the extra shorts to be no problem. In fact they were so comfortable, I forgot to take the riding pants off for the run and completed the race wearing them over my tri shorts.
The bike course is hilly enough that I'm OK with missing the ride 2 weeks prior. If I had done it, I may not have come back. This is a challenging ride with a series of hills. As John said, the extra speed you make on the downhills doesn't quite even out with the extra work on the climbs. Overall, I'm liking the new tri bike and the areo position. However, about 20 miles in, a guy in a black Camaro passes me and pulls over to the side of the road just ahead of me. He is taking up the bike lane and part of the road. To make things worse, the guy swings open his drivers side door to take care of some business. I can't believe this. After having gotten hit by a 89 year old lady who is late for church, I'm about to plow into a guy dressed in black in a black Camaro. Its like God was trying to take me out 2 weeks ago and now the devil wants a shot too. I swing wide and wonder what else Clermont has in store for me.
The bike course includes a hill called Sugarloaf Mountain that has a reputation for being the hardest climb. After going up a series of hills, I wonder if I've already done Sugarloaf Mountain. Then, I make a turn and see it. No mistaking it. A very long uphill climb. I give it what I can, but I don't do much hill climbing. As I get about 3/4ths of the way up the climb, I realize I'm in the lowest (easiest) gears and I've run out of gears. I'm out of the saddle and slowing. I realize I risk coming to a complete stop and falling, so I swallow my pride and dismount. Fortunately, this humiliation only lasts about 20 yards before I remount and finish the climb.
The rest of the ride is fairly uneventful except that at one point on the course, they still have the markings from the ride 2 weeks earlier. As you look down there are three directions. On the left, the is an indication to turn left the has a label stating "1st lap", in the middle a slightly brighter arrow pointing straight ahead, and on the right, a right arrow with the label "2nd lap." I see a rider up the road straight ahead and decide to follow the slightly brighter arrow pointing straight ahead. Coming up behind me, buddy John is not so fortunate. He gets confused and takes a wrong turn. The road does take him back to the course after adding an additional 5 and 1/2 miles to his ride, doing 61.5 miles compared to my 56 mile ride.
At about the 45 mile point on in, I'm kind of tired of the hills and am thinking that I want to be done with the ride and on the run. Its only my second long ride in the tri bike position and I haven't quit worked up the neck and quad muscles to be comfortable on too long of a ride. As I come towards the end of the bike ride, I note that storm clouds are gathering overhead.
Run Through Hell (If Hell was full of rain and thunder)
After racking my bike and changing over to running shoes, I head out of the transition area. I see buddy Keith coming in the other direction. Since the run course is 2 loops of an out and back course covering just under 3.3 miles, I don't know if he is finishing or half way through his run. As I approach the first water stop about a mile in, the rain is falling so hard, I have to remove my sunglasses as they are more a slighting hazard than a help. A few steps later, I feel the cold flow of the cup of water Keith pours over my neck and back. "You'll thank me for that later," he says as he goes by. I realize that Keith has to run his second lap, so I feel pretty good about my progress.
I make my way out to the turn around point and start back. At about the 5 mile mark, I come across John as he crosses the 2 mile marker. He thinks that the course is a one loop out and back and that I'm at mile 11. As we pass each other I say, "Pacing it, not racing it." He thinks I'm running super strong and am rubbing the mantra in his face. In reality, I am just trying to run a nice even pace to finish up this first lap.
As I start on my second lap, my quads that got extra work on the tri bike, now let me know that they are not happy with me. They start twitching on me that lets me know that soon they will be cramping up on me. I start throwing in walk breaks to forestall a total lock up. To add to the excitement, the rain starts coming down in buckets. Its coming down so hard that the run path is covered in flowing water trying to drain off these rolling hills. My quads don't care and don't seem to be helped by the cooler temperatures of the rain. I am now soaked and semi hobbled. I think back on my hydration and nutrition throughout the bike and run and can find no flaws. I think about my pacing on the bike and run. The bike was clearly more work than I am used to doing, but I did try to keep it in a safe mode. No, I think, perhaps my 50 year old body is just not up to exercising for over 6 hours at a shot. Maybe these long triathlons are just beyond what my body can handle. Whatever the issue, I am determined to finish this event if I have to walk it in.
I begin to fear that buddy John will catch me before the finish. I assure myself that this will mean a long ride home in which he lectures me on proper pacing and nutrition. Not a conversation I look forward to hearing. So, I carry on with a run/shuffle and walking when I start to cramp. I make it to the 9.9 mile turn around without John catching up with me. However, as I head back for the final leg of the 13.1 mile run, we cross paths for the last time. John now realizes that he is closing in on me. I have 3 miles to try and hold him off. The rain takes no note. After clearing and heating up the course to a muggy slog, a new storm comes racing across the sky. This time there is lightning accompanied by very close and and very loud, hand of an angry Old Testament God, thunder. Its at this point that I tell the guy running near me that this area of Florida is the lightning capital of the world. People get struck and killed by lightning in these parts. Another very loud crack of thunder comes down from above. I'm beginning to doubt that the Lord wants me to do triathlons in the Clermont area.
The rain again lets up, but its of little matter. The run course is now a river of water soaking our shoes to the point of slowing us runners even more. To add to the fun, the water stops at each mile have run out of water. Its Gatoraide or Coke. Ok, if that's what your stomach wants at this point, but mine wants water. As I come to the 12 mile mark, my right hamstring muscle decides that it too will cramp. I am stopped dead in my tracks. I look behind me as I try to message the camps out of my legs. No sign of John. I start to walk and am able to get a slow jog going again. As I come to the finish, I think to myself that if my buddy John catches and passes me now, there is no justice. I manage to cross the finish line in 7:02. Not a time I am proud of, but one I will accept with several lessons of additional training needed before November 22nd.
As I talk to some other competitors just past the finish line, buddy John comes in about 54 seconds behind me. We congratulate each other and get some water. John starts telling me about his extra miles on the bike. I decide that its his problem. I officially crossed the finish line first and will not have to be lectured to by him. On a very tough day, its the only victory I've got. On the other hand, Keith and Jay took 1st place in the relay division. Jay joked to John that they had a special award for those participants that rode 61 miles.
Post Race
Clearly, if John hadn't added the extra miles, he would have finished about 20 minutes or so before me. However, he too was having the same questions on the course about his ability to double what we did in this half ironman in about 2 months. He starts to use hedging phrases about doing the ironman, but I tell him that you can never think about an endurance event immediately after a tough course like the one we just completed. "Its like asking a woman if she wants to have more children just after she delivers a baby. Its a bad time to think about such things."
As we sit in a picnic shed eating our burgers and hot dogs, the winds kick up really good and the rain starts coming down horizontally. The course finish area starts to break apart and get blown down. The two of us and several other finishers and family supporters also take shelter. As we watch the finish area slowly deteriorate, we note other competitors coming up to the finish line. We all start cheering and clapping for these competitors that are truly getting the worst of it. The least we can do is give them an ovation. With each new finisher, the clapping and cheering gets louder and longer. These triathletes deserve our appreciation and we are happy to oblige.
After the rains die down for the last time, we collect our thoroughly soaked gear bags and walk our bikes back to our vehicle. Along the way, we talk with a triathlete from Miami who has done the Arizona Ironman. He tells us that compared to the course we did today, Arizona will seem easy. We take some solace from his kind words, but realize we have our work cut out for us.
We return to the finish area to be the last people to get messages. We figured we earned this reward. By the time we get back to our hotel, we are hours past the late checkout time and decide to spend a second night in Clermont. We had planned to clean our gear back at the hotel, but its all such a wet mess, we decide to just leave it where it is and put our luggage around it where we can. We shower, relax a little, then go out for celebratory dinner at Chili's with margaritas to lubricate the festivities. We make small talk with the wait staff and discuss the hard work ahead. Its time to step up the training.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Let's Be Careful Out There
Well, the MS 150 ride occurred this past weekend on May 2nd and 3rd. Cinco de Mayo has come and gone and still no ride report from that other “Wild and Crazy Guy,” John. Yes, he’s a busy guy, and I’m sure he’s plumb tuckered out from 150 miles of riding over 2 days. So we’ll have to wait a little longer for that report. While we wait, I figured I’d post a bicycle related entry.
I read a news blurb from roadbikerider.com over the weekend. “Florida once again leads the U.S. in bicycling fatalities. In federal statistics just released for 2007, 119 cyclists were killed in Florida, 10 more than in second-place California, which has twice the population. Florida had 28% of all cyclist fatalities in the U.S. and a rate of 6.52 cyclists killed per million population, nearly 3 times the national average of 2.31.”
Living in South Florida, there are 3 news stories that you read about once or twice a year: 1) A child drowns in a pool at home or at the beach; 2) A scuba-diver diving without a dive buddy drowns; and 3) A bicyclist is hit and killed by a car. Whenever I read one of these articles, I can't help but think these are avoidable tragedies. Someone should be keeping a better watch out for the kids near water, divers should never dive solo, and drivers should have a better awareness of bicyclists sharing the road.
My first quality road bike was a Fugi S10S road bike. I purchased that bike while in college and put countless miles on it riding all over Gainesville, Florida. After college, I road it all around the Clearwater/Tarpon Springs area with my older brother Jim, who introduced me to road riding and running. Back in Gainesville for law school at the University of Florida, I road that bike all over town again for transportation and exercise. I loved that bike and I loved riding.
When I moved to Fort Lauderdale in 1986, however, I quickly decided against riding a road bike. The main streets in the city that I've lived in for the past 23 years are six lane congestion pipelines filled with SUVs and elderly people of questionable driving skills. I remember trying to go on a solo ride early on and getting frightened to death by the oblivious drivers surrounding me. I got home, put my bike in the garage and let it slowly turn to rust over the next several years. I bought a couple of cruisers for the wife and I to go to the beach with and focused on my running.
A couple of years later, our neighbor Sam, a regular road cyclist who road A1a on weekends, got thrown from his bike when a Canadian tourist pulled out of a condominium parking lot without looking. Sam got pretty banged up and has had back problems ever since. I considered Sam lucky to be alive and swore off serious South Florida riding for several more years.
When Salome saw the local sprint triathlon a couple of years ago and decided she wanted to try the tri, we bought a couple of bottom of the line road bikes and started riding A1a. As we soon discovered, this is the route all Ft. Lauderdale riders take. There was a feeling of safety in numbers. We later stepped up to carbon fiber frames and started riding with other cyclists on a regular basis. Thus, I’ve gotten over my fear of our local drivers, but have heard way too many stories of cars turning into whole groups of riders to let my guard down.
I assume that the majority of drivers neither see us or give us the space we deserve. I also assume that these same drivers will always assume the right of way whether they have it or not. This is not to say I’m a nervous rider, I’m not. I just assume the knucklehead in the car either does not see me or will make a bad judgment call for which only I pay the price. Do I yell at the driver who makes a bonehead move in front of me? No. No need to piss off the guy driving the lethal weapon. I do wave and point at drivers coming out of side streets and parking lots. I also try to make eye contact whenever possible. But there are no guarantees. I’ve heard of too many incidents of riders doing everything right and getting bumped into or worse.
I envy those of you that ride in communities where you can get out to un-congested country roads. Perhaps as we become more populous, the land of open roads is becoming more myth than reality.
May 20 at 7 p.m. local time worldwide is an annual Ride of Silence. The event honors cyclists that have died in accidents with motor vehicles and it seeks to raise awareness of cyclists' right to the road. Participants ride no faster than 12 mph for no longer than an hour, and they maintain silence as in a funeral procession. The movement has grown to include more than 300 rides in the U.S. and 17 other countries. All cyclists who ride the road are welcome. There is no charge. For information, go to http://www.rideofsilence.org. Even if you don’t go on an organized ride on May 20th, think of your fellow cyclists that have died in what are most often avoidable accidents. And as the Sargent on Hill Street Blues used to say: “Let’s be careful out there.”
Monday, December 22, 2008
Can't we stop for breakfast?
It's Saturday, December 20 and another early morning ride is upon me. For once, I'm early to the meeting place, Downtown Bicycles. Actually, I was late for the originally planned meeting time of 6:30 but early for the adjusted meeting time of 6:45 agreed to when I spoke to Tony that morning and negotiated a later time since I was already running late.
Twenty miles into our ride (just me and Tony this time -- Bill, Carrie and Jerry all had some kind of conflict or, late Friday night), a ZMotion training ride starts to pass us and I see a great opportunity to let Tony demonstrate his riding strength but getting out in front and pulling a bit for this group while I sneak into the middle of the pack so I can draft and go at a much faster speed with much less effort. Tony and I had originally planned on riding 50 miles but now having the drafting benefit and the distraction of being with the group and others that we knew (Gina, Jared, etc.), I suggested that we continue on to this group's turn-around point, the Boynton Beach Inlet. This would give us a round trip distance of 60 miles.
At the turn-around point, the ZMotion group stopped for about a 10 minute break which I was happy to join. Gina was making plans for everybody to go back to the Cove Restaurant in Deerfield Beach for breakfast. That sounded like a great idea to me but task-master Tony wouldn't allow it. So while everyone else went off to breakfast, we kept riding to complete our 60 miler. But it wasn't over yet.
A semi-quick change from cycling shoes to running shoes and we were off for an approx. 4 mile run. Although we dragged along at a real slow pace, it was still great to get another bike to run transition under our belts. And the weather was outstanding for a run along A1A with an awesome view of the calm ocean. And yes, in December here in Florida, we can bike, run, swim and truly enjoy the tropical outdoors while many of those elsewhere around the country are digging out from the latest snow storm --- they even had one in Vegas this week! Ha, ha ---- I love living here!!!! Sorry Wayne (Anchorage, AK).
Quick footnote -- one of the great aspects of getting out on group rides or runs is having the opportunity to meet new people. On this group ride, one of the riders that we met was Gerardo who has completed several Ironman triathlons. Gerardo lives in New Jersey and is originally from Argentina. He travels all over the world to participate and compete in triathlons. When he is vacationing, he will often go to a bike shop, rent a bike, go out for a ride and usually, wind up meeting and riding with a group of locals. Like many of the riders and runners that I meet, Gerardo was most generous in sharing race stories, course descriptions, Ironman experiences and training tips. I also found out that he just recently ran a marathon in NJ and ran a 3:30 to qualify for the Boston Marathon. Congrats to Gerardo!
Twenty miles into our ride (just me and Tony this time -- Bill, Carrie and Jerry all had some kind of conflict or, late Friday night), a ZMotion training ride starts to pass us and I see a great opportunity to let Tony demonstrate his riding strength but getting out in front and pulling a bit for this group while I sneak into the middle of the pack so I can draft and go at a much faster speed with much less effort. Tony and I had originally planned on riding 50 miles but now having the drafting benefit and the distraction of being with the group and others that we knew (Gina, Jared, etc.), I suggested that we continue on to this group's turn-around point, the Boynton Beach Inlet. This would give us a round trip distance of 60 miles.
At the turn-around point, the ZMotion group stopped for about a 10 minute break which I was happy to join. Gina was making plans for everybody to go back to the Cove Restaurant in Deerfield Beach for breakfast. That sounded like a great idea to me but task-master Tony wouldn't allow it. So while everyone else went off to breakfast, we kept riding to complete our 60 miler. But it wasn't over yet.
A semi-quick change from cycling shoes to running shoes and we were off for an approx. 4 mile run. Although we dragged along at a real slow pace, it was still great to get another bike to run transition under our belts. And the weather was outstanding for a run along A1A with an awesome view of the calm ocean. And yes, in December here in Florida, we can bike, run, swim and truly enjoy the tropical outdoors while many of those elsewhere around the country are digging out from the latest snow storm --- they even had one in Vegas this week! Ha, ha ---- I love living here!!!! Sorry Wayne (Anchorage, AK).
Quick footnote -- one of the great aspects of getting out on group rides or runs is having the opportunity to meet new people. On this group ride, one of the riders that we met was Gerardo who has completed several Ironman triathlons. Gerardo lives in New Jersey and is originally from Argentina. He travels all over the world to participate and compete in triathlons. When he is vacationing, he will often go to a bike shop, rent a bike, go out for a ride and usually, wind up meeting and riding with a group of locals. Like many of the riders and runners that I meet, Gerardo was most generous in sharing race stories, course descriptions, Ironman experiences and training tips. I also found out that he just recently ran a marathon in NJ and ran a 3:30 to qualify for the Boston Marathon. Congrats to Gerardo!
Checklists are VERY Important!
It's Wednesday, December 17 and I'm out the door at 5:45 am to meet Tony and the rest of the riders at Downtown Bicycles for their weekly Wednesday morning ride. I pack up the car with what I think is everything I will need for the ride, as well as what I will need for a short run with Tony afterwards. As I'm pulling up to Downtown at just a few minutes before 6am, I'm getting ready to get out of the car and I realize that I've forgotten my clip-in cycling shoes. For those reading this that don't ride, you cannot go out on a "real" ride without your cycling shoes --- I did think about using my running shoes but that would have been the perfect recipe for a total disaster. (You can never find a "cycling-shoeaside bomber" when you need one! ---- come on people, who throws their shoes at the President of the US?)
So here I am pulled into a parking spot with about 30 or so riders just getting ready to ride and I have a decision to make: do I get out of the car and let Tony know that I'm an idiot and I forgot my cycling shoes and therefore, will need to get back in my car and go home or, do I succumb to my embarrassment and just pull my car right back out of my parking spot without saying anything and ride off to the west and away from the beautiful sunrise just ready to come up out over the Atlantic Ocean? I hoped Tony would come over to my car and spare me the group humiliation but no luck there. I tried to call him on his cel phone but no luck there either -- he left his phone in his car. I drove off!
As I pulled away, I wondered if Chris was also with the group so I gave him a call and reached him at home. He had decided to pass on the ride that morning. I was able to convince him to join me for a workout so I went home, got my cycling shoes and met Chris at his house for an approx. 22 mile ride with a 4 1/4 mile run afterwards. All was not lost but another lesson was learned --- ALWAYS USE A CHECKLIST!
So here I am pulled into a parking spot with about 30 or so riders just getting ready to ride and I have a decision to make: do I get out of the car and let Tony know that I'm an idiot and I forgot my cycling shoes and therefore, will need to get back in my car and go home or, do I succumb to my embarrassment and just pull my car right back out of my parking spot without saying anything and ride off to the west and away from the beautiful sunrise just ready to come up out over the Atlantic Ocean? I hoped Tony would come over to my car and spare me the group humiliation but no luck there. I tried to call him on his cel phone but no luck there either -- he left his phone in his car. I drove off!
As I pulled away, I wondered if Chris was also with the group so I gave him a call and reached him at home. He had decided to pass on the ride that morning. I was able to convince him to join me for a workout so I went home, got my cycling shoes and met Chris at his house for an approx. 22 mile ride with a 4 1/4 mile run afterwards. All was not lost but another lesson was learned --- ALWAYS USE A CHECKLIST!
Monday, December 8, 2008
Kids in Distress Inlet Challenge (century -- 100 miles) bike ride - Sunday, 12/7/08)
While Bill (the other "Wild and Crazy Guy") was off running the Vegas marathon and honing his running skills, I was busy breaking some new ground venturing into what was for me, the uncharted waters of my first "century" bike ride --- 25 miles further than the longest one-day distance I had gone on a bike up to this point.
The day started at 6am when I met up with Tony and Carrie at Chris' house where we would park our cars for the day. Chris lives less than a mile from the start of the ride. With temperatures at about 60 degrees, winds out of the NNW at about 8mph and a magnificent sunrise on the way, we rode over to the start and picked up our bib numbers and pinned them on to our jerseys. Amidst a crowd of about 1,000 other riders, we mingled a bit, caught up with some friends, got pumped up with lots of upbeat music, ate some last minute energy snacks, hydrated once more and then made that last and all important bathroom stop before starting the ride at 7am sharp.
Although we would eventually be riding north from a beach parking lot close to Port Everglades Inlet in Fort Lauderdale up to the Palm Beach Inlet, in order to log a full 100 miles, the course would first take us a few miles south along AlA up and over the 17th St. Causeway drawbridge. With the first wave of riders (those riding the full century -- there was another wave starting at 7:30 -- the 62 milers and the 31 milers -- the metric century and the 1/2 metric century riders) approaching the bridge, a small problem arose -- the bridge was having difficulty closing from it's last opening and the gates were still down stopping a rather large group of pumped up cylcists from crossing and continuing on their journey. This very frustrated group, only about a mile and a half into the ride, after waiting about 5 minutes for the bridge to open, finally vetoed the request of an official "ride support guy" to wait for the bridge gates to go up, and instead reversed course to head back to the start and continue north from that point. There was no stopping this angry mob of cyclists on a mission.
In making my way back down the bridge against the standing traffic and over a grass divider, I managed to lose my riding buddies Tony and Carrie. I waited for a few minutes in the hope that they were behind me. Eventually, with no one else left, it was pretty clear that they were up ahead so I finally started out on what was now looking to be a very long day that wasn't getting off to the best start. So much for "no child left behind"!
By the time I got back to the start area, it was about 7:30 and the second wave was starting to go out. What a mess this was with both the 7 and the 7:30am waves getting merged into one big group -- exactly what the planners had tried to avoid. From my perspective it was actually great. I was quickly able to hook up with other riders that I knew and actually contemplated turning around with these riders at the 62 mile mark if I couldn't reunite with Tony and Carrie. Among the riders I ran into, it was nice to see Sheena from Downtown Bicycles, Jared Knapp, Gina/Nora/Kelly (from the JFR running group), Brandy and a bunch of other people that I know from riding and running circles but whose names I don't yet know. And of course, like with all of these events, I met many new people as well.
Earlier, before the race had started, I had met up with buddy Keith Seago. Keith was going to be riding the "metric 100" or 62 miler so he would be going out with the 7:30 start, hoping (and with his skills, "likely") to catch up with me, Tony and Carrie. Keith never did catch up with us. Not because we were ahead of him but because he was way ahead of us the entire time. I'll bet he was working really hard to catch us and unfortunately for him, we weren't even in front of him -- sorry Keith!
Riding north along AlA in a pretty large pace line (group) at a speed of about 20 - 22 mph was pretty comfortable with the constant opportunity to draft (for the non-riders reading this -- that's when you ride behind others and in essence, get pulled along in their "draft").
Making our way into Boca Raton, at about the 20 mile mark, as luck would have it I caught up with Tony and Carrie. As it turned out, I didn't really "catch" them. We were riding together all along in this rather large group -- they were closer to the front of the group and I was somewhere in the middle. So finally, we were riding together.
Eventually we made it to the first rest stop somewhere near Boynton Beach at the 35 mile mark. Quick bathroom breaks, refilling water bottles, eating some bananas/oranges/peanut butter and jelly sandwiches/cookies ---- all in about 10 minutes and we were back on our way.
Just another 15 miles into Palm Beach and we were quickly to the 50 mile turnaround point for our return south to Fort Lauderdale.
And now the real fun starts! Or should I say that this is when I got a little stupid and ahead of myself by trying to hang with a group of much better trained riders that with the wind now at their backs, were really ready to step the pace up. So for about 5 miles, I hung. But I knew I would pay for riding at a pace that I'm just not yet trained for. Eventually, I dropped back. Carrie also dropped back along with a few others. You're never really alone in these large group rides. Our small group of 4 or 5 took turns "pulling" and rolled into the next rest stop (appox. mile marker 65) about 10 minutes behind Tony and the lead group that he stayed with. Tony, by the way, is an incredible cyclist -- real strong, consistent, able to sprint and hang with the big boys on most days. He's also most generous when it comes to pulling us lesser talented riders along and I know he often holds back just to help us train.
Reloaded with water and snacks, we moved out again. And once more, I made the same mistake of trying to hang with the lead pack -- a rather large pack as well and I was right in the middle of it. Now for those who are familar with my riding style, you know I'm a "wobbler". Tony has actually given me the nickname, "Crazy Legs". I do try hard to stay steady and keep my line, but I do tend to shake a bit which makes other riders very nervous -- and understandly so. The last thing I want to do is fall and take other riders down with me. Cruising along now at about 23 to 24mph, I hear another rider saying "316, get it together, you're making me nervous", or something to that effect. This guy had a real friendly tone. Not knowing what my rider number was, I didn't realize that he was talking to me. After he made these comments a third time, I carefully looked over and he said "yeah, you" -- again, in a real friendly tone which I was very greatful for. Some riders can get really nasty -- and again, understandably so. I really had no business being in the middle of this pack.
Well, now knowing my race number, and wondering if getting this number could have been some sort of a sign ---- I responded "it's John, 3:16". To which he responded: "For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life" -- accurately quoting this well known bible verse.
This guy was unbelievable. He spoke Spanish so I shouted out "como se yama". Someone shouted back for him "Bianco". He was truly concerned about me going down and the wreck that I might wind up causing. Unlike many other cyclists, his approach got me thinking real quickly about dropping back and getting out of this potentially dangerous situation. Bianco then shouted out Tony's number, 714 and said: "Romans 7:14" and then proceeded to quote that bible passage. Our new "friend" sure knew his scripture.
So I took this "sign" and was cheered on with a "nice job" by Bianco as I safely moved over to the right side and began to let the pace line fly by me. Carrie and a number of others eventually dropped back as well and together we made our way back to Fort Lauderdale through the remaining approximate 30 miles. Yes, these last 30 miles were a bit of a challenge. I wouldn't say that I was "toasted" or that I "blew up" at all. I actually felt pretty good. But to say that I wasn't feeling a little "toasty" in the legs would be a big lie.
Carrie, a new friend Vicki (a new and first time grandmother who about a year ago decided to make a major life change and started excercising and lost something like 60 pounds) and I, cruised into the finish line back in Fort Lauderdale at about 12:15 for a total time of about 5:15 which was very respectable. Tony was there to high-five us and give us his congratulations on our ride. He made it back with the lead group and even "pulled" for a good portion of the way finishing in under 5 hours.
With the ride now over, we sat down for a nice "Bubba Gump" sponsored lunch and did our best to begin replacing all of the calories that were burned over the past 5 plus hours.
I must say that a 100 mile bike ride is a long ride. And yes, all that I kept thinking about after we finished was how the heck am I going to swim for 2.4 miles before riding 112 miles and then put my running shoes on and run 26.2 miles right afterwards! Ironman Arizona --- what were we thinking Bill??? Hmmmmm -- very interesting. I guess we'll just need to train really hard and work our way up to it. Just like we did leading up to our first marathons, our first sprint triathlons and our first 1/2 Ironman. After all, we're just Two Wild and Crazy Guys!
While Bill (the other "Wild and Crazy Guy") was off running the Vegas marathon and honing his running skills, I was busy breaking some new ground venturing into what was for me, the uncharted waters of my first "century" bike ride --- 25 miles further than the longest one-day distance I had gone on a bike up to this point.
The day started at 6am when I met up with Tony and Carrie at Chris' house where we would park our cars for the day. Chris lives less than a mile from the start of the ride. With temperatures at about 60 degrees, winds out of the NNW at about 8mph and a magnificent sunrise on the way, we rode over to the start and picked up our bib numbers and pinned them on to our jerseys. Amidst a crowd of about 1,000 other riders, we mingled a bit, caught up with some friends, got pumped up with lots of upbeat music, ate some last minute energy snacks, hydrated once more and then made that last and all important bathroom stop before starting the ride at 7am sharp.
Although we would eventually be riding north from a beach parking lot close to Port Everglades Inlet in Fort Lauderdale up to the Palm Beach Inlet, in order to log a full 100 miles, the course would first take us a few miles south along AlA up and over the 17th St. Causeway drawbridge. With the first wave of riders (those riding the full century -- there was another wave starting at 7:30 -- the 62 milers and the 31 milers -- the metric century and the 1/2 metric century riders) approaching the bridge, a small problem arose -- the bridge was having difficulty closing from it's last opening and the gates were still down stopping a rather large group of pumped up cylcists from crossing and continuing on their journey. This very frustrated group, only about a mile and a half into the ride, after waiting about 5 minutes for the bridge to open, finally vetoed the request of an official "ride support guy" to wait for the bridge gates to go up, and instead reversed course to head back to the start and continue north from that point. There was no stopping this angry mob of cyclists on a mission.
In making my way back down the bridge against the standing traffic and over a grass divider, I managed to lose my riding buddies Tony and Carrie. I waited for a few minutes in the hope that they were behind me. Eventually, with no one else left, it was pretty clear that they were up ahead so I finally started out on what was now looking to be a very long day that wasn't getting off to the best start. So much for "no child left behind"!
By the time I got back to the start area, it was about 7:30 and the second wave was starting to go out. What a mess this was with both the 7 and the 7:30am waves getting merged into one big group -- exactly what the planners had tried to avoid. From my perspective it was actually great. I was quickly able to hook up with other riders that I knew and actually contemplated turning around with these riders at the 62 mile mark if I couldn't reunite with Tony and Carrie. Among the riders I ran into, it was nice to see Sheena from Downtown Bicycles, Jared Knapp, Gina/Nora/Kelly (from the JFR running group), Brandy and a bunch of other people that I know from riding and running circles but whose names I don't yet know. And of course, like with all of these events, I met many new people as well.
Earlier, before the race had started, I had met up with buddy Keith Seago. Keith was going to be riding the "metric 100" or 62 miler so he would be going out with the 7:30 start, hoping (and with his skills, "likely") to catch up with me, Tony and Carrie. Keith never did catch up with us. Not because we were ahead of him but because he was way ahead of us the entire time. I'll bet he was working really hard to catch us and unfortunately for him, we weren't even in front of him -- sorry Keith!
Riding north along AlA in a pretty large pace line (group) at a speed of about 20 - 22 mph was pretty comfortable with the constant opportunity to draft (for the non-riders reading this -- that's when you ride behind others and in essence, get pulled along in their "draft").
Making our way into Boca Raton, at about the 20 mile mark, as luck would have it I caught up with Tony and Carrie. As it turned out, I didn't really "catch" them. We were riding together all along in this rather large group -- they were closer to the front of the group and I was somewhere in the middle. So finally, we were riding together.
Eventually we made it to the first rest stop somewhere near Boynton Beach at the 35 mile mark. Quick bathroom breaks, refilling water bottles, eating some bananas/oranges/peanut butter and jelly sandwiches/cookies ---- all in about 10 minutes and we were back on our way.
Just another 15 miles into Palm Beach and we were quickly to the 50 mile turnaround point for our return south to Fort Lauderdale.
And now the real fun starts! Or should I say that this is when I got a little stupid and ahead of myself by trying to hang with a group of much better trained riders that with the wind now at their backs, were really ready to step the pace up. So for about 5 miles, I hung. But I knew I would pay for riding at a pace that I'm just not yet trained for. Eventually, I dropped back. Carrie also dropped back along with a few others. You're never really alone in these large group rides. Our small group of 4 or 5 took turns "pulling" and rolled into the next rest stop (appox. mile marker 65) about 10 minutes behind Tony and the lead group that he stayed with. Tony, by the way, is an incredible cyclist -- real strong, consistent, able to sprint and hang with the big boys on most days. He's also most generous when it comes to pulling us lesser talented riders along and I know he often holds back just to help us train.
Reloaded with water and snacks, we moved out again. And once more, I made the same mistake of trying to hang with the lead pack -- a rather large pack as well and I was right in the middle of it. Now for those who are familar with my riding style, you know I'm a "wobbler". Tony has actually given me the nickname, "Crazy Legs". I do try hard to stay steady and keep my line, but I do tend to shake a bit which makes other riders very nervous -- and understandly so. The last thing I want to do is fall and take other riders down with me. Cruising along now at about 23 to 24mph, I hear another rider saying "316, get it together, you're making me nervous", or something to that effect. This guy had a real friendly tone. Not knowing what my rider number was, I didn't realize that he was talking to me. After he made these comments a third time, I carefully looked over and he said "yeah, you" -- again, in a real friendly tone which I was very greatful for. Some riders can get really nasty -- and again, understandably so. I really had no business being in the middle of this pack.
Well, now knowing my race number, and wondering if getting this number could have been some sort of a sign ---- I responded "it's John, 3:16". To which he responded: "For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life" -- accurately quoting this well known bible verse.
This guy was unbelievable. He spoke Spanish so I shouted out "como se yama". Someone shouted back for him "Bianco". He was truly concerned about me going down and the wreck that I might wind up causing. Unlike many other cyclists, his approach got me thinking real quickly about dropping back and getting out of this potentially dangerous situation. Bianco then shouted out Tony's number, 714 and said: "Romans 7:14" and then proceeded to quote that bible passage. Our new "friend" sure knew his scripture.
So I took this "sign" and was cheered on with a "nice job" by Bianco as I safely moved over to the right side and began to let the pace line fly by me. Carrie and a number of others eventually dropped back as well and together we made our way back to Fort Lauderdale through the remaining approximate 30 miles. Yes, these last 30 miles were a bit of a challenge. I wouldn't say that I was "toasted" or that I "blew up" at all. I actually felt pretty good. But to say that I wasn't feeling a little "toasty" in the legs would be a big lie.
Carrie, a new friend Vicki (a new and first time grandmother who about a year ago decided to make a major life change and started excercising and lost something like 60 pounds) and I, cruised into the finish line back in Fort Lauderdale at about 12:15 for a total time of about 5:15 which was very respectable. Tony was there to high-five us and give us his congratulations on our ride. He made it back with the lead group and even "pulled" for a good portion of the way finishing in under 5 hours.
With the ride now over, we sat down for a nice "Bubba Gump" sponsored lunch and did our best to begin replacing all of the calories that were burned over the past 5 plus hours.
I must say that a 100 mile bike ride is a long ride. And yes, all that I kept thinking about after we finished was how the heck am I going to swim for 2.4 miles before riding 112 miles and then put my running shoes on and run 26.2 miles right afterwards! Ironman Arizona --- what were we thinking Bill??? Hmmmmm -- very interesting. I guess we'll just need to train really hard and work our way up to it. Just like we did leading up to our first marathons, our first sprint triathlons and our first 1/2 Ironman. After all, we're just Two Wild and Crazy Guys!
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