yeah, and then what happened?
My HR occasionally jumped up to the185-190 range, but for the most part I really tried to keep it 178ish so my chest wouldn't supernova. I knew I could do 180 for close to an hour, but this was gonna take well over that time, so I didn't want to cannibalize myself early on. Was pretty pleased with that goal within a goal. The breathing pattern that worked best was 2 "active" out-breaths to one in-breath. I have a lot more to learn about this type of patterned breathing technique, but at least the little bit of practice I'd done at home and in CO gave me something to hang on to for this go round.
Somewhere in mile 3, a guy slightly ahead of me had a horrible bit of luck. He was cranking away in a tougher gear than a lot of people were using and suddenly his chain just exploded. It amazed me he didn't dump over the side of the mountain. A couple of people watching off to the side of the road came to help him, but unless one of them was able to supply him with a replacement chain and some tools, I assumed his day ended early. What a huge disappointment for him.
At slightly above 4mph, this trip up takes quite a bit of time. If you're T. Hamilton or Tom D. you are done early enough to get home and finish Saturday morning cartoons. No cartoons for me. Oh there was animation no doubt - suspended animation. On the unpaved section it was all I could do to trick myself into NOT looking up the road. This part seems to go on and on. Then it goes on a little bit more to a turn and, yes, continues still. I was aware of who was near me so I wouldn't do something silly like take a rider out with my sometimes ungraceful handle bar movement. But I didn't want to see too much in the way of where I was versus where I would need to get. 4 mph is very, very, very slow. In fact, if you ride at this speed, I did the calculation, and it would take you an hour to ride, carry the 2, invert, multiply using the tangent of the coefficient of the root, um 4 miles. Can you believe that? Math boggles!
My bike's pretty light as it is, but I certainly was not opposed to thinking about ways to pare down. Weight is everything, which is why I chose to forgo many tasty treats for many weeks leading up to the big race. And although I didn't quite make it to my desired "elite racer weight", I did get pretty darned close. It's ok, though, because I'm not an elite racer anyway. I did go so far as considering donating my pancreas, a spare kidney, my spleen and what small amount of hair I do have to Wiglets for Piglets, a little known charitable foundation in Indonesia. They passed. Some ingenious friends, who surprisingly have never done any jail time, suggested anal helium (mostly they just like to say anal). I passed. Thanks, guys.
One very real 1.25 pounds was a bottle of water I debated keeping in my 2nd "cup holder", as a racer friend calls them. I definitely wanted one, but I wasn't sure about a second. When I saw Tyler warming up on his trainer across the way from me, that sealed my decision. He had 2 bottles, so by gawd I was gonna have two as well. It never occurred to me they were just for his warm up. Doesn't matter. I ended up needing both of mine anyway. Some gel would have helped, too, but I'll save the self flagellation blog for another time.
So Tyler and I warmed up the same time and place, we both had 2 bottles. It was looking really good for me. He has a "y" in his first name, so do I. He has an "i" in his last name, just like me. Things were pretty uncanny - it was just nutty all the similarities. Oh yeah, neither one of us uses performance enhancing agents either. Well, that's not entirely true. I did mainline liquefied Lemon Poppy Clif Bar in the van on the way over, but only because I had already brushed my teeth and didn't want those little black seed things bothering me for close to 2 hours. If you look at the day's results, he had a :52 climb. I saw his :52, and raised him an hour. how do ya like that?! I was not gonna be out done!
I can't remember exactly when or where it happened, but it happened. My legs were close to going union on me, and kept talking trash, saying they required a mid morning break. I told them "the hell you say", and they grudgingly went a bit farther. I recall making horrible, low, evil deals w/ myself. I didn't stoop so low as to start making deals with God, but it came close to that. Don't stop, don't stop. If you make it to X place, I'll let you walk the 22% finish, I swear! Just keep going. Sad, isn't it. I don't even know if I was tricking myself or if I really meant it. Oxygen deprivation maybe? Well, it's a good climb pretty high up, but not that high.
A couple of times my right foot flinched, heel trying to angle out as if threatening to unclip, and I'd just give it the death stare until it realigned itself in submission. It totally reminded me of the part in An Officer and a Gentleman when Lou Gossett Jr is making Richard Gere do lots of hard navy training stuff in some pretty uncomfy weather. Foley: You can forget it! You're out!
Mayo: Don't you do it! Don't! You... I got nowhere else to go! I got nowhere else to g... I got nothin' else.
My legs and feet were about to bail on me. I was speechless, and that never happens...
Somewhere in mile 3, a guy slightly ahead of me had a horrible bit of luck. He was cranking away in a tougher gear than a lot of people were using and suddenly his chain just exploded. It amazed me he didn't dump over the side of the mountain. A couple of people watching off to the side of the road came to help him, but unless one of them was able to supply him with a replacement chain and some tools, I assumed his day ended early. What a huge disappointment for him.
At slightly above 4mph, this trip up takes quite a bit of time. If you're T. Hamilton or Tom D. you are done early enough to get home and finish Saturday morning cartoons. No cartoons for me. Oh there was animation no doubt - suspended animation. On the unpaved section it was all I could do to trick myself into NOT looking up the road. This part seems to go on and on. Then it goes on a little bit more to a turn and, yes, continues still. I was aware of who was near me so I wouldn't do something silly like take a rider out with my sometimes ungraceful handle bar movement. But I didn't want to see too much in the way of where I was versus where I would need to get. 4 mph is very, very, very slow. In fact, if you ride at this speed, I did the calculation, and it would take you an hour to ride, carry the 2, invert, multiply using the tangent of the coefficient of the root, um 4 miles. Can you believe that? Math boggles!
My bike's pretty light as it is, but I certainly was not opposed to thinking about ways to pare down. Weight is everything, which is why I chose to forgo many tasty treats for many weeks leading up to the big race. And although I didn't quite make it to my desired "elite racer weight", I did get pretty darned close. It's ok, though, because I'm not an elite racer anyway. I did go so far as considering donating my pancreas, a spare kidney, my spleen and what small amount of hair I do have to Wiglets for Piglets, a little known charitable foundation in Indonesia. They passed. Some ingenious friends, who surprisingly have never done any jail time, suggested anal helium (mostly they just like to say anal). I passed. Thanks, guys.
One very real 1.25 pounds was a bottle of water I debated keeping in my 2nd "cup holder", as a racer friend calls them. I definitely wanted one, but I wasn't sure about a second. When I saw Tyler warming up on his trainer across the way from me, that sealed my decision. He had 2 bottles, so by gawd I was gonna have two as well. It never occurred to me they were just for his warm up. Doesn't matter. I ended up needing both of mine anyway. Some gel would have helped, too, but I'll save the self flagellation blog for another time.
So Tyler and I warmed up the same time and place, we both had 2 bottles. It was looking really good for me. He has a "y" in his first name, so do I. He has an "i" in his last name, just like me. Things were pretty uncanny - it was just nutty all the similarities. Oh yeah, neither one of us uses performance enhancing agents either. Well, that's not entirely true. I did mainline liquefied Lemon Poppy Clif Bar in the van on the way over, but only because I had already brushed my teeth and didn't want those little black seed things bothering me for close to 2 hours. If you look at the day's results, he had a :52 climb. I saw his :52, and raised him an hour. how do ya like that?! I was not gonna be out done!
I can't remember exactly when or where it happened, but it happened. My legs were close to going union on me, and kept talking trash, saying they required a mid morning break. I told them "the hell you say", and they grudgingly went a bit farther. I recall making horrible, low, evil deals w/ myself. I didn't stoop so low as to start making deals with God, but it came close to that. Don't stop, don't stop. If you make it to X place, I'll let you walk the 22% finish, I swear! Just keep going. Sad, isn't it. I don't even know if I was tricking myself or if I really meant it. Oxygen deprivation maybe? Well, it's a good climb pretty high up, but not that high.
A couple of times my right foot flinched, heel trying to angle out as if threatening to unclip, and I'd just give it the death stare until it realigned itself in submission. It totally reminded me of the part in An Officer and a Gentleman when Lou Gossett Jr is making Richard Gere do lots of hard navy training stuff in some pretty uncomfy weather. Foley: You can forget it! You're out!
Mayo: Don't you do it! Don't! You... I got nowhere else to go! I got nowhere else to g... I got nothin' else.
My legs and feet were about to bail on me. I was speechless, and that never happens...
posted by becky at 9:19 PM
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