32 miles in 2:20 on the Bianchi
I am starting to have a mental block about biking the American River trail. When I lived in Rancho Cordova, I couldn't get enough of the trail, but now I have to talk myself into it. Something about just going miles in the same direction, then turning around and backtracking does not appeal lately. I have a couple of alternate routes I wouldn't mind trying out, but I don't know how the water situation is and don't want to get stranded with empty water bottles miles from home.
So, to CSUS, east on the bike trail for 10+ miles, then turn around. Today's experimental energy bar is a Protein Plus(?) peanut butter chocolate bar. A tad heavy, but otherwise pretty good.
I'm wearing my Long's special over the frame sunglasses until I can afford to get prescription biking sunglasses. Unfortunately, they are a bit small to fit over my current glasses, so I'm wearing them over an old pair. The combination of an old prescription and the pinching on my temples is giving me a headache and making me a little nauseated and I decide I will go back to my little clip on shades for now.
I'm starting to recognize some of the other cyclists on the trail and gave/got a few friendly nods as we passed each other going the other way. I feel so special!
July 28, 2009
July 27, 2009
Ride Report 7/26
Partnered ride, 50 miles in 4:45 (including all breaks) on the Bianchi
When last we left off, today's ride was to be about the same length as last week's partnered ride (41 miles) but with some hills. We join the American River bike trail at the usual spot (the Guy West bridge at CSUS) and head east. My form is not bad today and apparently the few minutes I was able to stay upright on the rollers may have helped straighten me out. Unfortunately, for most of the ride I forget to watch the trail up ahead rather than the patch of road directly ahead of me. When I remember to look ahead, steering/handling comes much more naturally. The raised seat on the Bianchi has been causing grumblings from my lower back, so it has been moved forward on the rails to shorten my reach.
Around 17 miles into the ride, the idea of at least wading in the water starts becomes irresistible, and T heads toward a good stopping point at Lake Natoma that unfortunately involves going up the "suicide hill" (because I want to kill myself at the thought of tackling it) on Hazel Ave. I arrive at the top wheezing and feeling like I'm about to throw up. I actually make it down the other side without injuring myself (or anyone else), but I discover riding almost completely horizontally with my hands on the drops (lower handles) puts a bit of a strain on my neck.
At the midpoint, I waste no time getting into the water. After being reassured that riding back in wet clothes may be uncomfortable but won't actually damage anything, I swim for a couple of minutes in very cold water. One of the geese becomes very interested in my Odwalla banana nut bar, and when I try to stand up for my rights, she hisses at me, so I beat a hasty retreat.
On the way back, I curse every hill we ride, and I have to dismount to walk up the hill to Hazel Ave. My dip in the lake helped me a bit, but by the time we are around Hagan Park, I am flagging. My feet hurt, my toes are numb, my elbows ache, and the webs of my hands have not-quite blisters developing. I realize I will need to get biking gloves, preferably gel padded. T quizzes me about where my feet hurt (on the outside)and tells me I also need to get wedges for my shoes that will correct my tendency to put weight on the outside of my foot.
For a short while, I attempt drafting behind T. This is one rider benefits from riding in the slipstream of the front rider. To do this, however, you have to be right behind the cyclist in front of you. Like one foot or less behind him/her. When I finally get close enough, I find it hard to watch the road and the bike in front of me. I'm too tired to concentrate, so I drop back.
On the top of the hill at mile marker 22 on the trail, we pass a barking coyote, which leads to speculation on why it was out in daylight and why it was barking. Added to a suicidal ground squirrel, a homicidal goose, cartoonish quail, and mourning doves too lazy to fly in the afternoon heat, it's been a wildlife-filled day.
I manage to muddle my way home without falling over and get patted on the back for accomplishing something few people can (or really would want to) do: biking 50 miles and still able to stand at the end of the ride. It would be a greater victory if T's mileage total for the day wasn't 80.
When last we left off, today's ride was to be about the same length as last week's partnered ride (41 miles) but with some hills. We join the American River bike trail at the usual spot (the Guy West bridge at CSUS) and head east. My form is not bad today and apparently the few minutes I was able to stay upright on the rollers may have helped straighten me out. Unfortunately, for most of the ride I forget to watch the trail up ahead rather than the patch of road directly ahead of me. When I remember to look ahead, steering/handling comes much more naturally. The raised seat on the Bianchi has been causing grumblings from my lower back, so it has been moved forward on the rails to shorten my reach.
Around 17 miles into the ride, the idea of at least wading in the water starts becomes irresistible, and T heads toward a good stopping point at Lake Natoma that unfortunately involves going up the "suicide hill" (because I want to kill myself at the thought of tackling it) on Hazel Ave. I arrive at the top wheezing and feeling like I'm about to throw up. I actually make it down the other side without injuring myself (or anyone else), but I discover riding almost completely horizontally with my hands on the drops (lower handles) puts a bit of a strain on my neck.
At the midpoint, I waste no time getting into the water. After being reassured that riding back in wet clothes may be uncomfortable but won't actually damage anything, I swim for a couple of minutes in very cold water. One of the geese becomes very interested in my Odwalla banana nut bar, and when I try to stand up for my rights, she hisses at me, so I beat a hasty retreat.
On the way back, I curse every hill we ride, and I have to dismount to walk up the hill to Hazel Ave. My dip in the lake helped me a bit, but by the time we are around Hagan Park, I am flagging. My feet hurt, my toes are numb, my elbows ache, and the webs of my hands have not-quite blisters developing. I realize I will need to get biking gloves, preferably gel padded. T quizzes me about where my feet hurt (on the outside)and tells me I also need to get wedges for my shoes that will correct my tendency to put weight on the outside of my foot.
For a short while, I attempt drafting behind T. This is one rider benefits from riding in the slipstream of the front rider. To do this, however, you have to be right behind the cyclist in front of you. Like one foot or less behind him/her. When I finally get close enough, I find it hard to watch the road and the bike in front of me. I'm too tired to concentrate, so I drop back.
On the top of the hill at mile marker 22 on the trail, we pass a barking coyote, which leads to speculation on why it was out in daylight and why it was barking. Added to a suicidal ground squirrel, a homicidal goose, cartoonish quail, and mourning doves too lazy to fly in the afternoon heat, it's been a wildlife-filled day.
I manage to muddle my way home without falling over and get patted on the back for accomplishing something few people can (or really would want to) do: biking 50 miles and still able to stand at the end of the ride. It would be a greater victory if T's mileage total for the day wasn't 80.
July 25, 2009
Roller Ride 7/24
After fasting overnight and then getting poked and prodded at the lab, I don't have much time in the afternoon for a ride, so I decide to try out the rollers T dropped off for me to work on my balance. I set it up in a doorway, as instructed, so that I could catch myself with my shoulders if I tipped over too far. When I first got on the bike on the rollers, I couldn't let go of the door frame without losing my balance. Then, something clicked and for a few short minutes, I caught the trick of looking ahead of me instead of down at the front tire. Then, I overbalanced and the front tire went off the roller. I was intending on doing at least 30 minutes on the rollers, so I got back on the bike, which promptly went sideways underneath me and I came down on the roller frame just below my right hip. That pretty much finished my first ride on the rollers.
July 23, 2009
Blood Donation Day
6 miles roundtrip on the hybrid to/from my blood donation appointment. That is all the riding I intend to do today. I notice on the way to BloodSource that I have developed the habit of narrating my rides as if I were a character on Scrubs.
July 22, 2009
Ride Report 7/22
Timed interval ride of 14.97 miles in 1:11 on the Bianchi, 3 sprints of 2.5 min each
The first sprint is pathetic and I barely go over 18mph. The second, I manage 21mph for a brief period. The third I keep steady at about 19mph.
On the way back while coming to a stop at a light, either my foot or the bike slips in a puddle and the poor Bianchi falls over on its side. No flats today, though.
The first sprint is pathetic and I barely go over 18mph. The second, I manage 21mph for a brief period. The third I keep steady at about 19mph.
On the way back while coming to a stop at a light, either my foot or the bike slips in a puddle and the poor Bianchi falls over on its side. No flats today, though.
July 21, 2009
Ride Report 7/21
30.5 miles in 2:45 (including changing flat #5 this week [this has to be some kind of record. I await your call, Guinness Book of Records] and collapsing for a break at mile 28) on the Bianchi
My feet and hands ache. My elbows and shoulders are stiff. My calves feel like rubber bands when I walk. Why am I doing this again?
I replace the spare tube and CO2 cartridge in the seat wedge in case my flat tire jinx continues. Today, I am staying on established bike paths and city streets. Around mile 5, I see something stuck to the front tire. When I stop to check it out, I discover it is a thorn. The front tire still has almost full pressure, so I decide to ride it out for an optimal tire-changing location. The tire still has probably 3/4 pressure when I find a nice shady spot in Old Sacramento to make repairs. I replace the tube in about 10 minutes and I'm on my way again.
On the surface streets, I average 15-16 mph. On the bike paths, I average 17-18 mph. At the turnaround point at Watt Ave, I have to get off the bike to soothe my whining feet. Today has been such a struggle at some points that I finish the ride by looping through Sac State and home. I have to get home to meet a prospective adopter for my foster kitten.
My feet and hands ache. My elbows and shoulders are stiff. My calves feel like rubber bands when I walk. Why am I doing this again?
I replace the spare tube and CO2 cartridge in the seat wedge in case my flat tire jinx continues. Today, I am staying on established bike paths and city streets. Around mile 5, I see something stuck to the front tire. When I stop to check it out, I discover it is a thorn. The front tire still has almost full pressure, so I decide to ride it out for an optimal tire-changing location. The tire still has probably 3/4 pressure when I find a nice shady spot in Old Sacramento to make repairs. I replace the tube in about 10 minutes and I'm on my way again.
On the surface streets, I average 15-16 mph. On the bike paths, I average 17-18 mph. At the turnaround point at Watt Ave, I have to get off the bike to soothe my whining feet. Today has been such a struggle at some points that I finish the ride by looping through Sac State and home. I have to get home to meet a prospective adopter for my foster kitten.
July 20, 2009
Ride Report 7/20
32.5 miles in ?:?? on the Bianchi
Luckily, I remembered to check the tires before I left the house, because the rear tire on the Bianchi is flat. I get it changed in only 20 minutes, but I am down to one spare tube now.
I head south on Land Park to add some miles to my Freeport to Freeport Bridge to levy road and West Sacramento route. After meandering my way on Windridge to Pocket Road, I finally catch Freeport Blvd south to the bridge across the Sacramento River. My pace on the city streets is 16 mph. As always, I cross the bridge by holding my breath, not looking down and holding onto the bike for dear life. The Freeport Bridge is open mesh grate that provides a spectacular view of the river twenty feet below you.
The pavement on the levy road is rougher than I'd remembered, but I last rode it on the hybrid, which is quite cushy compared to the Bianchi (front shocks, seat shock, lower psi tires). The ride is skull rattling at times, so I ride far from the shoulder where the roughest spots are. Due to the cross/headwind, my speed is only about 14-15 mph on most of the levy road. For one glorious mile or more on River Road, I maintain a pace of 19 mph.
When I get back on the levy road, I see something stuck on the front tire, but I know if it's a thorn I don't want to pull it out. Around mile 24, my feet can't take anymore and I have to stop to dismount for a short break. I check the pressure on the front tire and my heart falls when the tire is squishy. T put a liner in the front tire, and I don't want to try to wrestle it all back together on the road. I call a friend for a ride, but her truck is out of commission and T doesn't have a vehicle today that can fit the Bianchi, so I fix the flat on the side of the road. I take out the liner and replace the tube. The one good thing about the whole experience is that my first time using a CO2 pump works like a charm. It inflates the tube in seconds! Unfortunately, the cartridges are one-time use only. After I gather together my tools and repack the seat wedge, I notice a truck pulled over on the side of the road about ten yards ahead of me. The driver is sitting in the truck, watching me in his side mirror. I have no idea if he was just making sure I got finished safely or if he had ulterior motives, but as I pass his truck, I really wish I had my pepper spray on me.
I continue my ride with no further excitement, although I compulsively check both tires every time I have to stop at a light. My clipping in/out has been less than impressive today and I had to look down about half the time to find out why my cleat wouldn't click into the pedal. About a mile from home, I see an old animal rescue friend of mine on the sidewalk and I stop to catch up with her for about 20 minutes.
I stagger home hours late and with just enough time to potty the dogs, eat lunch and get ready for work. I need to leave early to pick up more spare tubes and a CO2 cartridge at the bike store...
Luckily, I remembered to check the tires before I left the house, because the rear tire on the Bianchi is flat. I get it changed in only 20 minutes, but I am down to one spare tube now.
I head south on Land Park to add some miles to my Freeport to Freeport Bridge to levy road and West Sacramento route. After meandering my way on Windridge to Pocket Road, I finally catch Freeport Blvd south to the bridge across the Sacramento River. My pace on the city streets is 16 mph. As always, I cross the bridge by holding my breath, not looking down and holding onto the bike for dear life. The Freeport Bridge is open mesh grate that provides a spectacular view of the river twenty feet below you.
The pavement on the levy road is rougher than I'd remembered, but I last rode it on the hybrid, which is quite cushy compared to the Bianchi (front shocks, seat shock, lower psi tires). The ride is skull rattling at times, so I ride far from the shoulder where the roughest spots are. Due to the cross/headwind, my speed is only about 14-15 mph on most of the levy road. For one glorious mile or more on River Road, I maintain a pace of 19 mph.
When I get back on the levy road, I see something stuck on the front tire, but I know if it's a thorn I don't want to pull it out. Around mile 24, my feet can't take anymore and I have to stop to dismount for a short break. I check the pressure on the front tire and my heart falls when the tire is squishy. T put a liner in the front tire, and I don't want to try to wrestle it all back together on the road. I call a friend for a ride, but her truck is out of commission and T doesn't have a vehicle today that can fit the Bianchi, so I fix the flat on the side of the road. I take out the liner and replace the tube. The one good thing about the whole experience is that my first time using a CO2 pump works like a charm. It inflates the tube in seconds! Unfortunately, the cartridges are one-time use only. After I gather together my tools and repack the seat wedge, I notice a truck pulled over on the side of the road about ten yards ahead of me. The driver is sitting in the truck, watching me in his side mirror. I have no idea if he was just making sure I got finished safely or if he had ulterior motives, but as I pass his truck, I really wish I had my pepper spray on me.
I continue my ride with no further excitement, although I compulsively check both tires every time I have to stop at a light. My clipping in/out has been less than impressive today and I had to look down about half the time to find out why my cleat wouldn't click into the pedal. About a mile from home, I see an old animal rescue friend of mine on the sidewalk and I stop to catch up with her for about 20 minutes.
I stagger home hours late and with just enough time to potty the dogs, eat lunch and get ready for work. I need to leave early to pick up more spare tubes and a CO2 cartridge at the bike store...
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