The Ride I Needed

Please help me raise $4000 to help END CANCER!

Donate to Pelotonia
at my rider page.

• 100% OF EVERY DOLLAR
  raised goes directly to life-saving cancer research!
• DOLLAR MATCH, TOO!
  Every dollar you contribute will be matched by The Limited Brands!
  I will be wearing their colors proudly!

When you leave the house before sunrise, you know you're committed.

When you leave the house during a downpour, before sunrise, you know you're something.

I had a few companions on my ride: Anne and Shirley. Their voices echoed through my head for the five hours of rain that helped define my ride.

If it were not for them. I would have been left entirely to myself. In the first two hours of my ride I only saw three vehicles. I didn't see any bicycles for four hours.

Like I wrote: when you leave the house during a downpour, before sunrise, you know you're something.

And when you plan to do all of that for 130 miles with ~8,000 feet of climbing—while injured—you're...something unprintable.

I'm Only Happy When It Rains

Sunday's ride was a test. My injury was forefront in my mind. This ride was to help me set my riding expectations for Pelotonia. I know that it's the money that matters believe me, I get it. But my performance matters to me as well. And I know that I won't be happy if I don't ride to my expectations.

Mercifully, it was raining. Sometimes, it was pouring. That makes me happy.

Shirley

As I've written before, I do so love to ride in the rain. It comforts and tests me like no other conditions. It's primal, elemental. It's full commitment and complete concentration

Riding in the rain feels pure. If you're there, you're there because you want to be. Something is driving you, and being there is being true to yourself.

I hope Pelotonia 11 is in the driving rain.

Here Comes the Rain Again

I felt remarkably good. My legs had required from Wednesday night's sufferfest. And I was armored for battle.

Annie (Come on, you knew this was coming!

My physical-therapy sage recommended that I use an ankle brace—to give me feedback that would limit my calf movement. He also suggested kinesio tape, to help support the calf.

Good ideas, those.

Armor!

I was two hours in, tracking at ~16 mph, and I was managing my power output to the low 200s—often much lower. It was not a ride about speed. It was not about power intervals. It was to test myself—my fitness and my leg—to assess what I could do.

And I learned a lot.

I discovered that I could do...most of what I could normally do I'm about 80% to 85% on a bike. That's compared to about 50% on foot. Overall, my power average was identical to my 2-day Shenandoah ride in July. But it came at a cost.

Because of my calf, my biomechanics are...different. I'm working far more with my left leg, with predictable consequences:

• Left IT-band tightness
• Left knee soreness
• Left hamstring fatigue

On the right, there are consequences as well:

• Right hip-flexor fatigue
• Right hamstring...weirdness
• Right shin fatigue

I'm imbalanced—no surprise there. And if Pelotonia wasn't less than a week away, I'd succumb to mindful rest and a lot of swimming.

But Pelotonia is in six days, and all my biomechanical issues are manageable. Stretching, massage, tape, bracing, and Vitamin I can get me through.

What else did I learn?

• I can't sprint
• I can't surge
• I can climb—but I need to do so by adjusting technique and with less top-end power than I am accustomed to
• I can push out long, sustained power sessions. I can still handle a bike
• I can put my head down and suffer

And I can still enjoy the experience.

Taking Flight

Mile 73. On a long, flat-ish stretch outside Thurmont, with farms on either side of the road. Realizing that I have a lot of miles in front of me, were I to make it home. I'm soaked through, but the rain has just stopped. Traffic is beginning to appear, as folks emerge from their rainy-Sunday cocoons.

On the periphery, from my left, I see something in the sky. It's larger than it should be. Thump-thump-thump beat its wings. Three strokes. That's all it took to cover the distance between us. It was heading straight for me, and then it banked, as only a bird can. Strong, fluid, powerful. It turned, curving away to my left, passing behind me just as it approached the road.

Sometimes Mom pays us a visit, bearing wonderful gifts...

And I was blessed with a perfect view of an American Bald Eagle in full flight.

"Thank You!" I called as non-rain-induced chills passed over me.

I closed my eyes, pedaled on, and watched as my mind replayed all 5 seconds of the experience.

And I rode on.

Decisions, Decisions

I wasn't going to make it. 130 simply wasn't going to happen. I was out of food, out of energy, and somewhere around mile 87 I got the first twinge in my calf. It was time to reconsider.

If I pushed on the whole way, I might make it home uninjured. But chances were that my bio-mechanical issues would result in another injury. I started the ride with the intention of testing myself. I had achieved that goal; so why push it?

And—much to my surprise—my ego wasn't throwing up barriers. Somehow I wasn't viewing not finishing as a failure. I actually believed what I was saying to myself.

Well, we all grow up sometime, don't we?

So I called in the cavalry (for the second time in two weeks), and I was picked up.

112 miles. 7.5 hours. 16.1 mph average. ~8,000 feet climbed. 4,000+ calories burned.

And one decision made.

I'm riding Pelotonia. Both days. And I'm going to...

...decide on Wednesday if I can hang with the big boys.

Let's see how I recover, and what I have on Tuesday night.

Yep...I'm wussing-out on making a decision today!

Sunday Morning Call

May I please introduce Papillon
(to those who have not yet met her).
She's a dream made real, and she's my partner
in my ongoing journey.

It's early. It's raining.

By the time anyone reads this (IF anyone reads this), I will have been on the road for hours.

It's the big decision ride.

I'm freshly shaven. My calf is taped and braced.

But, how will my calf do? How is my fitness?

This morning is the test.

I'm shooting for 100+. I need to know if I can make that mileage; and if I can, how I feel. And how will I recover?

Ultimately, can I hang with the big boys? Or, will I ride with a different group, focusing more on friendship, comradeship, and enjoying the day for what may come?

Ambitions are stubborn things; they die hard.

It's decision day.

Kinesiology Tape + Ankle Brace = Hope

Gladiators got nuthin' on me!

Reassessing Expectations

This one's also about Pelotonia. But I'm not fundraising. I'm writing as a rider.

First, some history...

Pelotonia 2009

I rode with Lance. I felt great! I was thrilled to be there! As a rider, it was a wonderful experience.

Pelotonia 2010

I never blogged about the ride...for a number of reasons (though I'm not sure which reason was my tipping point...long story...even for me).

The Pelotonia Cycling Team led us out of town,
setting a paces that (eventually) caused a selection.

I rode with the lead group. The Pelotonia Cycling Team led us out of town. Once into farmland, the bunch began to dwindle. Sketchy group riders fell by the wayside. There was one crash I saw—a rider got bumped to the side of the road into a culvert, with a spectacular cartwheel the result.

When we got into the rolling hills, riders were dropped with each passing kilometer. The steady group pace was around 26 mph, and a lot of riders simply couldn't stay with it.

I was fortunate to have hooked up with one of the strongest of the strong, and a leader among the group. My friends, Sloane "I'm Big, I'm Army strong, I'm kinder than you can imagine" Spalding and Robert "I Ride BMC and can suffer like a bastard" Collier connected me to Dave "sure I'm skinny, but I'm stronger than YOU" Chesrow.

Dave particularly helped me to be accepted by a peloton that—at this point—was locals-only.

While local surfers are a floating gang that protects its favorite break, a local peloton is a rolling gang. It has its own character, pecking order, and mores. Make no mistake, I was an outsider. And I knew it.

And this makes sense. A fast-moving peloton demands a level of commitment and trust from its riders that few "normal people" can grok. We're traveling at 26+ mph on the flats and 40+ downhill. We're on twitchy, high-performance vehicles that have less than 3 square inches of road contact. We're drafting within inches of each other's wheels. And we occasionally bump—elbows, knees, hips—as we react to an ever-changing road flow, including debris, holes, animals, and vehicles.

"Neither a borrower no wheelsucker be..."

So, there I am, an out-of-town guy. Am I a strong rider? How am I in a bunch? Will I take my turns on the front? Will I wheelsuck? Can I climb? I had to prove myself, but having a "sponsor" made it a lot easier.

My goal was a sub-five hour time. This translates into a 20 mph average—including any stops along the way. When you consider the liquid necessaries (input AND output), that average speed needs to be even higher.

This group could do it.

I could do it.

Could we do it together?

The short answer is: yes. I came across the line in 4:56. This included necessaries. We were fast and well-supported. In fact, several of the crew had their own SAG support, which made all the difference in the world.

I was one of the first two cancer survivors across the line. I was one of the first three Limited Brands finishers.

But that's not the point of this post. I could write a detailed report, but (really) who cares. This is a post about now. Today. And one week from today.

Pelotonia 2011

Starner Hill. One leg. I'm thinking the lead group will
drop me like...something unpleasant...

I have written before that my goal for 2011 is to finish in the top 10.

Um...Er...Well...

I tore a muscle in my calf last week. I am writing this 11 days after the injury.

It's not healed.

Not even close.

I visited my physical-therapy guru. He was blunt. I need to re-set my expectations.

I went on my team's Wednesday night sufferfest. Sawtooth profile. Oh. My.

Imagine pedaling with one leg. Now add just 75% of the downstroke of the other leg.

The result? A 2.5 mile-per-hour drop in my average speed for that ride.

Wednesday's ride taught me a few things. I learned that at steady-state, I am still strong. What I can't do is surge, handling attacks or the accordion-like behavior of a competitive group. If left on the front, I can pull. But the dynamic aspect of a competitive ride is beyond me.

I learned that I can climb. In the saddle. Even on an 18% grade. I can even get out of the saddle. But I also learned that I can't so it for long.

I also learned that if I'm out of the saddle, I'm down to one and a quarter legs. I cannot pull up with my right, and I can't flex down with any power (driving through my calf).

Oh, did I mention that I'm right-dominant?

Shite.

Reassessing Expectations

I'm not ready to give up on the lead group just yet. I'm stubborn that way.

I need to test it.

The route to Thurmont...60+ miles one way.

Most of me believes that I can stay with the group over Starner Hill. But at what cost? Will I blow myself out on one-and-a-half legs? Will I be able to hang on (for dear life, by my fingernails) the whole 102? Will I tear the fibers more, rendering me useless?

So, Sunday morning I will be on the road at 0530. I will head for Thurmont, in a variation on my Father's Day ride. I will come home. I will ride for as long as necessary to complete the mileage. I won't care a whit about speed.

I'll come home, eat, shower, self-massage, and decide. I will answer the question: what are my expectations of myself for this ride.

And I will let you know on Monday.

It's About the Money

Pelotonia is about ending cancer....but you cannot fight this battle without financing. You can't win it without dollars. You can't kill the beast without cold, hard cash.

That'll Get Your Attention!

And that's why we work so hard to raise money for this cause.

When nearly 1 in 2 men and 1 in 3 women will develop cancer during their lifetime, it's not just my battle. It's yours, too.

It's worth repeating: nearly 1 in 2 men and 1 in 3 women will develop cancer during their lifetime

Some day, in some way, cancer will impact your life.

I'm about to shamelessly steal some copy from a friend of mine. It's good stuff. And he's nailed the thought:

Ok, so this is year 3 of Pelotonia, my third time and my third time going 180 miles. Unfortunately, we still have to ride. The mission of Pelotonia 2011 is One Goal: Cure Cancer. If you've ever been a part of this event, you know how serious they are about that goal and how urgently it's needed....

At the end of the day, this is a fundraising event, and it's about the money. That's the reality. But you have no idea what wings you provide with each bit of support and [your] donations.

If you can't give, please help me to spread the message. Every little bit of support counts!

Ending Cancer is Sexy

Please help me raise $4000 to help END CANCER!

Donate to Pelotonia
at my rider page.

• 100% OF EVERY DOLLAR
  raised goes directly to life-saving cancer research!
• DOLLAR MATCH, TOO!
  Every dollar you contribute will be matched by The Limited Brands!
  I will be wearing their colors proudly!

Author's Note: This one's for the guys...

So, how do I know that ending cancer is sexy?

Because they told me so (and who am I to argue with...them?


Really, lads, how much would you give to follow a Victoria's Secret paceline? How fast would you ride?

faster...Faster...FASTER!

I need to have a conversation with my VS contacts. We need VS Angels kits...in pink...shorty speed shorts...with wings...for the ladies...

Really, they would be for the ladies...