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31 mile warmup

**Note: two posts today… I’m feeling prolific.**

Miles ridden: 31
Time: 1:56
Pace: 16.4
HR: 155/189
Perceived effort: 6
Number of times the batteries died in the GPS: 1
Number of flats: 1
After working in the basement for the morning, cleaning and lubing the bike and getting a horribly unsatisfying roast beef sub at Subway, I went for a ride in this glorious spring weather. I don’t know why I keep going to Subway, it always disappoints.

I took a new route, one I’ve never traveled before. Well, at least the first five miles. This time it was a climb up Corinth Mountain Road. This climb is a mere three miles from my house–but I never attempted it. It’s a) very, very steep, b) very twisty, and c) highly trafficked. The traffic was the biggest reason to avoid it. But it really wasn’t that bad. It’s about a 450′ climb I think and front-weighted. Meaning, the worst of it is at the beginning, then it levels out. Unlike climbing Lake Desolation which has its worst at the 3/4 point.

After the climb, it was a casual spin over to the base of Desolation, then back on Middle Grove Road and Daniels Road. Several of these roads will be on the ride tomorrow.

Another flat tire. I don’t like these Slime brand Skabs (reviews to corroborate my view). They don’t hold well. From now on I’m going to be sticking to the old fashioned tube-o-crap and patches. Patches!? We don’t need no stinkin’ patches! Those have never failed on me—they’re just more work. One of the two air canisters I had in my seat pack was already used. Good thing I found out now and not tomorrow. I only had the one canister to inflate the tire and be on my way. Of course, I was in the most remote point of the ride when the flat occurred. It would have been a looong walk back. With cycling shoes no less.

I forgot the camera and regretted it. There were several picture-worthy items. My favorite was an antique, rusted out typewriter on someone’s front lawn. It was just sitting there in the middle of the lawn. Words have long since deserted it. Now it communes with nature on a wordless, corroded and decaying level. This typewriter is worth a drive back JUST to get the picture. This image is marginally similar until I get the actual shot (pun intended.) There was also a barn with worn unpainted boards. Sightly off-center and on the second story was a painted door with a wreath on it. The door was little island of decoration and attention to detail in an otherwise antiseptic exterior barn wall.

The roadies were out in full force. When I was cleaning the bike in the driveway, 4 or 5 must have ridden by, and I saw just as many while out on the road. The superior weather has made us burst forth like brightly garbed clowns from a Volkswagen.

It’s 8pm now and I have to seriously think about hitting the hay. Getting up at 3am is forcing this unusual bedtime.

Unrelated photo
Jenny was trying to help me in the basement but only served to create a Family Circle-esque trail.

Trepidation

It is not with a little trepidation that I approach tomorrow’s big ride. It’s the second in the brevet series I’m doing. It’s 300km long (about 187 miles according the the cue sheet). We start at 4am. Yes, 4am. Because of that we’re required to bring headlights for the bikes. Note to self: check batteries and bring spares.

You may have noticed a decline in mileage (both running and riding) at the tops of my posts lately. Other things have been happening lately that have taken precedence over training. I sort of got through the 200km on latent fitness built up from running through the winter. I’m not sure if I can muster the strength needed to finish tomorrow’s ride. It’s going to be challenging. It will be, in fact, the second longest ride I’ve ever done. It will be 13 miles short of a double century. Tantalizingly close to that landmark, but I’m positive I’ll be too tired to round it out.

It has quite a bit of climbing. I’m not AS worried about the climbing as I would have been in past years. I seem to finally have come into my own with regard to that. Sure, I’m not scampering up these hills like a mountain goat who idolizes Marco Pantani, but I can find a rhythm that suits me on just about all gradients that gets me to the top without wasting me. I think back to all the times I marveled at Richard Virenque’s graceful climbing. They way he rocked on the handlebars a quarter rotation ahead of his pedaling amazed me. I try to emulate it and can’t figure it out. Some gradients are easier than others. And it’s not always the more shallow ones that are easier. In fact, long slow climbs I find more difficult than short steep ones. Medium steep. On pavement. Not short steep WALLS on dirt like the Battenkill Roubaix throws at you. Actually, they weren’t walls, per se, but still… On dirt, it FELT like it.

The 300km follows nearly the same course as the 200km but goes around the NORTH side of Sacandaga Lake instead of skirting along the south side. I love riding on Sacandaga Lake. It’s so beautiful, the pavement is great, rolling hills, you always have a great view of the lake, and the traffic is light. It’s a good conversational stretch of the course–sort of like the cycling equivalent of a coffee house. Sacandaga is my Central Perk. Reviewing the cue sheet, I noticed that the north side of the lake is 33 miles long. Whew. I think North Shore Road is about 22 or so miles long and the next 10 or so are from the lake to Hadley.

I asked John if he had many advance registrations yet and he said a good number, and that hopefully the good weather will bring more. It’ll be good to get a couple more guys (and gals) to beef up the group. A bigger group means more conversation to help the miles tick by and the wind slip more effortlessly around us.

Useless numbers section
It took me a little over 8 hours to do the 200km (including stopping time). I’m estimating it’ll take 12-14 hours for tomorrow’s ride. I’ll be sticking by John Ceceri, the ride organizer, most likely. Last time I went out a little hot but realized I needed to slow down and meter out my energy even though I felt great. My average heart rate will probably be about 145 bpm. So for, say 14 hours, that’ll be 7.3 million heart beats for the event. That number is just too big to wrap my head around. Or heart for that matter. My pedaling cadence should be about 80 rpm, that means I’ll make over 67 thousand pedal revolutions.

Wish me luck. I’ll need it.

This is what I need to do tomorrow

An open letter to Home Depot

This started out as a comment but ended up deserving a home of its own, so here it is. Original idea courtesy of this writer and this writer. I do not take credit for this, it belongs entirely to That Chick. I haven’t run or ridden in a while so I’m a little cranky…

Dear Home Depot worker,

When I go to your store to buy a sump pump (along with the dozens of others who no doubt have been in just hours before me) I’d like some assistance. Sure you were already there talking to two other customers about the same thing while I patiently waited for my turn like a lion stalking his prey. Sure, most of my questions were answered by my listening to you talk to them. But when I ask you “do I need any fittings to go with this? Do I need any other parts?” I’m hoping to get some service. You saying, “nope you should be all set” doesn’t help me.

‘Cause when I got home and put it together while standing in 3 inches of silty water and turned it on only to find it wasn’t working well… That pissed me off. Turns out I needed a check valve. EVERY freakin’ sump pump needs a check valve! Without it all the water in the pipe floods BACK into the well filling it up again.

Why didn’t you help me? You MUST have know about it. Literally dozens of people came before me and bought these things. Isn’t that your job? To answer questions and provide good service? You didn’t offer to get me a cart to carry the pump (kinda heavy). You didn’t show me where the hard PVC pipe was to go with it. You didn’t wish me good luck when obviously I was buying something to fix a bad problem.

I wish I worked at a computer store and you walked in to buy a new PC. You’d pick out the model then ask me, “do I need anything else?” I’d happily say “nope you should be all set” as I shift a little to one side blocking your view of the network cable you’ll need to connect to the internet.

Soggily, annoyingly and vindictively,
An Unhappy Customer