Partnered 21.9 mi in 1:49, east on ARP from Guy West Bridge & back via Bella Bru
This is a recovery ride for T (who has the day off, must be nice), but my normal dogged effort. It is officially a gorgeous day and time for shorts, short sleeves and fingerless gloves. It's a holiday for enough people that there is Sunday-level traffic on the bike path: couples and families sprawled across the trail (on bike and on foot) and the occasional team rider. The display at El Dorado Savings says 73 degrees!
Just past Sac State, a pleasant surprise for so early in the year: turkeys on the trail! Later, a tattooed shirtless man on a bicycle yodels/howls when he passes us and anyone else on the bike path. Spring fever?
We head out for 10 miles, then turn around and go to Bella Bru for lunch. The chopped cobb salad is delicious! I try the Naked protein smoothie. It's not bad, but needs to be drunk cold, so not a good ride option. The meal wakes my stomach up, and I'm grateful I have the smoothie in my back pocket for the ride back.
Slow time, but I blame it on having someone to talk to during my ride.
February 17, 2010
February 14, 2010
Ride Report 2/14/10
23.3 miles in 1:53
Today is nice, not quite cloudy and not quite sunny, but nothing compared to yesterday's sunny low 70s. I am albuterol-less, so I'm breathing hard right out of the gate, but I'm happy that I got my new MP3 clip on holder so I can wear t-shirts while I ride. Yes, I said t-shirts. That's how I roll.
I'm disappointed to see that the GI Joe show signs on 58th St have been taken down. Apparently, it was a yesterday only event.
Yesterday on the bike path, I saw a father on a mountain bike towing his (helmetless) 4-5 year old son on a little BMX with a rope. He had the gall to tell his son "Careful, buddy" when his son drifted toward the oncoming lane. Apparently his son's safety wasn't worth buying a $50 tagalong bike on craigslist.
Today was a repeat of random stupidity. A group of young adults on bikes included an asshat disastrously running his (of course) pit bull next to his bike. The dog was a) scared to death of the bike and was doing his best to run as far away as possible from the bike, b) running on the wrong side of the bike (on the left, into oncoming traffic instead of on the right, protected by the owner's bike), c) being run on a collar instead of a harness and miraculously hadn't pulled out of the collar yet, d) being run on far too long a leash (I run my dogs on a 1.5' traffic lead, which doesn't allow them to build enough momentum to pull me over), and e) held only by the owner's hand (this is a big debate due to safety concerns, but I feel much safer with the dog connected to the frame of the bike or at least to my waist, closer to my center of gravity and again not as likely to pull me off balance).
The coup du jour happens as I am leaving the Guy West bridge on the way home and somehow an idiot driving a scooter on the bike path turns onto the bridge! I'm not sure how he even got onto the bike path in the first place, but my dismayed look makes an oncoming pedestrian turn to see what I'm looking at.
Today is nice, not quite cloudy and not quite sunny, but nothing compared to yesterday's sunny low 70s. I am albuterol-less, so I'm breathing hard right out of the gate, but I'm happy that I got my new MP3 clip on holder so I can wear t-shirts while I ride. Yes, I said t-shirts. That's how I roll.
I'm disappointed to see that the GI Joe show signs on 58th St have been taken down. Apparently, it was a yesterday only event.
Yesterday on the bike path, I saw a father on a mountain bike towing his (helmetless) 4-5 year old son on a little BMX with a rope. He had the gall to tell his son "Careful, buddy" when his son drifted toward the oncoming lane. Apparently his son's safety wasn't worth buying a $50 tagalong bike on craigslist.
Today was a repeat of random stupidity. A group of young adults on bikes included an asshat disastrously running his (of course) pit bull next to his bike. The dog was a) scared to death of the bike and was doing his best to run as far away as possible from the bike, b) running on the wrong side of the bike (on the left, into oncoming traffic instead of on the right, protected by the owner's bike), c) being run on a collar instead of a harness and miraculously hadn't pulled out of the collar yet, d) being run on far too long a leash (I run my dogs on a 1.5' traffic lead, which doesn't allow them to build enough momentum to pull me over), and e) held only by the owner's hand (this is a big debate due to safety concerns, but I feel much safer with the dog connected to the frame of the bike or at least to my waist, closer to my center of gravity and again not as likely to pull me off balance).
The coup du jour happens as I am leaving the Guy West bridge on the way home and somehow an idiot driving a scooter on the bike path turns onto the bridge! I'm not sure how he even got onto the bike path in the first place, but my dismayed look makes an oncoming pedestrian turn to see what I'm looking at.
February 13, 2010
So now what?
Home to Guy West Bridge to Discovery Park & back 23.3mi in 1:50
Today I experimented once again with albuterol and a spacer to see if it would help my breathing. It did, but it also jacked up my heartrate and made me a little shaky, so I think that’s the last of the albuterol for a long while. My doctor just authorized allergy (scratch) testing, so I’m kind of pinning my hopes on allergy shots to correct the shortness of breath issues.
It’s been three months since lab tests confirmed nothing wrong with my heart or with my lungs, but I started getting disheartened at the difficulty I had breathing when I was cycling and at getting dropped from group rides, so I pretty much stopped riding in December. Then I got caught up in moving/unpacking/getting settled in the new house. The weather was crappy and I couldn’t breathe well the few times I did venture out on bicycle.
I got a cheap tandem so that I could keep up with group rides with a partner, but the bike is a challenge to ride and the cheap-ass rims bent. So, the new rear rim is on order along with slimmer/higher pressure Continental City Contact tires. In the meantime, the weather is still cold, but my lungs aren’t quite as unhappy as they were in December.
A couple weekends ago on a tandem ride, I went to drool over my latest dream bike, an Orbea Diva, and realized how far I am from feeling I deserve that bike. It’s a racing bike; not a tootle around the bike path bike. I have managed to gain back 25 pounds that I lost last year, and am about where I was at this time last year when I was riding the Schwinn Traveler and the Electra Townie. I suspect a good portion of my issues biking recently are from the extra weight I’m pushing around.
The new plan is to ride a minimum of 20 miles 5 days a week in addition to walking the dogs, stretching exercises and yoga. I haven’t been able to convince myself yet to commute to/from work by bike, even though it would add another 12-14 miles a day. I just don’t like the thought of traveling through downtown by bicycle at midnight. I know weight isn’t supposed to be as important as muscle to fat ratio, etc, but I started weighing myself daily. I’m recording the results and watching the overall trend rather than day-to-day changes, but it’s just the easiest tangible measurement I have available. My hope is to set aside $100 per pound lost and put it towards an Orbea Diva. A $5000 bike equals 50 pounds lost, by which time I will definitely feel I deserve that bike!
Today I experimented once again with albuterol and a spacer to see if it would help my breathing. It did, but it also jacked up my heartrate and made me a little shaky, so I think that’s the last of the albuterol for a long while. My doctor just authorized allergy (scratch) testing, so I’m kind of pinning my hopes on allergy shots to correct the shortness of breath issues.
It’s been three months since lab tests confirmed nothing wrong with my heart or with my lungs, but I started getting disheartened at the difficulty I had breathing when I was cycling and at getting dropped from group rides, so I pretty much stopped riding in December. Then I got caught up in moving/unpacking/getting settled in the new house. The weather was crappy and I couldn’t breathe well the few times I did venture out on bicycle.
I got a cheap tandem so that I could keep up with group rides with a partner, but the bike is a challenge to ride and the cheap-ass rims bent. So, the new rear rim is on order along with slimmer/higher pressure Continental City Contact tires. In the meantime, the weather is still cold, but my lungs aren’t quite as unhappy as they were in December.
A couple weekends ago on a tandem ride, I went to drool over my latest dream bike, an Orbea Diva, and realized how far I am from feeling I deserve that bike. It’s a racing bike; not a tootle around the bike path bike. I have managed to gain back 25 pounds that I lost last year, and am about where I was at this time last year when I was riding the Schwinn Traveler and the Electra Townie. I suspect a good portion of my issues biking recently are from the extra weight I’m pushing around.
The new plan is to ride a minimum of 20 miles 5 days a week in addition to walking the dogs, stretching exercises and yoga. I haven’t been able to convince myself yet to commute to/from work by bike, even though it would add another 12-14 miles a day. I just don’t like the thought of traveling through downtown by bicycle at midnight. I know weight isn’t supposed to be as important as muscle to fat ratio, etc, but I started weighing myself daily. I’m recording the results and watching the overall trend rather than day-to-day changes, but it’s just the easiest tangible measurement I have available. My hope is to set aside $100 per pound lost and put it towards an Orbea Diva. A $5000 bike equals 50 pounds lost, by which time I will definitely feel I deserve that bike!
October 19, 2009
The Other Big Day!! 10/17
40mi of 100mi ride completed, Foxy's Fall Century in Davis
For the past few days, I've known I was in trouble. Doing my own diagnosing via online research, I can't decide whether I have bronchitis or side effects of gastroesophageal reflux disease. Or maybe both. At any rate, I have a dry cough, a lump in my throat, and an all-around unhappy immune system. I start dosing myself with acid reducers, snort up my prescription allergy meds, and cross my fingers.
It's just getting light when we drive into the Veteran's Memorial Theater parking lot in Davis. The weather is mild and looks to be a nice day. The parking lot is already about 3/4 full and it's not even 7:30am. The checkin process is ridiculously easy and I walk in, get my bracelet (yellow) and map and then I'm apparently on my own. The rest stops are a little over every 20 miles, and I already know the hills are going to kill me. I set off at a fairly brisk pace, but I start fading as we pass County Rd 97. I send T ahead and tell him I'll meet him at the first rest stop. I get passed by what feels like the entire 1300 registered riders, but amazingly a small group finally passes that is going about my speed. I manage to latch on for several miles and we cruise along at about 15-16mph. There is a mild headwind, but it saps me whenever I'm unprotected.
At some point, I fall behind a little too far, and I can't catch up again. I try to put one of my headphones in, and end up sending my route map sailing into the road. After getting set up with music in my right ear, map back in my pocket, and my will to live fading, I climb back on the bike and putter along at 13-14mph. My heartrate is too high and my speed keeps dropping like it did at the end of the Condor Classic. The first rest stop is apparently a sick joke that doesn't exist because I should have made it there by now. About a mile from the stop, T comes back to check on me. I fuel up at the rest stop and fill one of my water bottles with Cytomax, which still tastes awful but less so than Gatorade.
I know by now that I will not be able to finish the ride. My plan is to limp along until the lunch rest stop at the 60 mile mark, just before the nasty hills, and then drop out. I try to send T ahead, but he doesn't go far ahead of me. About halfway to the second rest stop, we hit very gently rolling hills. My heartrate is in the 180s, my legs won't work. At the top of one of the tiniest hills, I'm in my smallest gear, going about 6mph and I can't pull any more effort from my legs. I keep pushing, and I'm suddenly hyperventilating. I try to stop, but I can't get my right foot out of the pedal, so I fall over. I still can't catch my breath, I'm trapped under my bike, and the fresh scar tissue on my poor, abused right knee is torn open. Other riders quickly surround me. One calls for a SAG car. One cleans and bandages my knee and then hands me a vitamin C supplement. I get loaded up into the SAG car and tell T I'll meet him at the lunch stop. My bike ride is over for the day.
I spend a good part of the afternoon at the Lake Solano (or Sonoma) park, watching riders come in. I see the fabled bride and groom come to the stop, but don't get to witness the ceremony. When another SAG car stops in for lunch, I don't dare pass up a ride back to Davis. I run some errands in Davis, checking in a few times on T's progress. Just before he makes it to the finish, another rider comes in who is so wasted that he can't dismount his bicycle and it has to be pulled out from underneath him. His wife runs to get him electrolytes while a volunteer walks him over to a bench and works on getting the rider's legs to unlock. T is at least mobile when he arrives. The post-ride dinner is fantastic and includes sodas.
For the past few days, I've known I was in trouble. Doing my own diagnosing via online research, I can't decide whether I have bronchitis or side effects of gastroesophageal reflux disease. Or maybe both. At any rate, I have a dry cough, a lump in my throat, and an all-around unhappy immune system. I start dosing myself with acid reducers, snort up my prescription allergy meds, and cross my fingers.
It's just getting light when we drive into the Veteran's Memorial Theater parking lot in Davis. The weather is mild and looks to be a nice day. The parking lot is already about 3/4 full and it's not even 7:30am. The checkin process is ridiculously easy and I walk in, get my bracelet (yellow) and map and then I'm apparently on my own. The rest stops are a little over every 20 miles, and I already know the hills are going to kill me. I set off at a fairly brisk pace, but I start fading as we pass County Rd 97. I send T ahead and tell him I'll meet him at the first rest stop. I get passed by what feels like the entire 1300 registered riders, but amazingly a small group finally passes that is going about my speed. I manage to latch on for several miles and we cruise along at about 15-16mph. There is a mild headwind, but it saps me whenever I'm unprotected.
At some point, I fall behind a little too far, and I can't catch up again. I try to put one of my headphones in, and end up sending my route map sailing into the road. After getting set up with music in my right ear, map back in my pocket, and my will to live fading, I climb back on the bike and putter along at 13-14mph. My heartrate is too high and my speed keeps dropping like it did at the end of the Condor Classic. The first rest stop is apparently a sick joke that doesn't exist because I should have made it there by now. About a mile from the stop, T comes back to check on me. I fuel up at the rest stop and fill one of my water bottles with Cytomax, which still tastes awful but less so than Gatorade.
I know by now that I will not be able to finish the ride. My plan is to limp along until the lunch rest stop at the 60 mile mark, just before the nasty hills, and then drop out. I try to send T ahead, but he doesn't go far ahead of me. About halfway to the second rest stop, we hit very gently rolling hills. My heartrate is in the 180s, my legs won't work. At the top of one of the tiniest hills, I'm in my smallest gear, going about 6mph and I can't pull any more effort from my legs. I keep pushing, and I'm suddenly hyperventilating. I try to stop, but I can't get my right foot out of the pedal, so I fall over. I still can't catch my breath, I'm trapped under my bike, and the fresh scar tissue on my poor, abused right knee is torn open. Other riders quickly surround me. One calls for a SAG car. One cleans and bandages my knee and then hands me a vitamin C supplement. I get loaded up into the SAG car and tell T I'll meet him at the lunch stop. My bike ride is over for the day.
I spend a good part of the afternoon at the Lake Solano (or Sonoma) park, watching riders come in. I see the fabled bride and groom come to the stop, but don't get to witness the ceremony. When another SAG car stops in for lunch, I don't dare pass up a ride back to Davis. I run some errands in Davis, checking in a few times on T's progress. Just before he makes it to the finish, another rider comes in who is so wasted that he can't dismount his bicycle and it has to be pulled out from underneath him. His wife runs to get him electrolytes while a volunteer walks him over to a bench and works on getting the rider's legs to unlock. T is at least mobile when he arrives. The post-ride dinner is fantastic and includes sodas.
Ride Report 10/14
~30mi group ride to Elverta & back
I took a couple days off after the Condor Classic. Storm on Tuesday, but headed out Wednesday morning for the group ride. There are only three of us this morning, and we head north on E Levee road to Elverta and have breakfast at a little diner. It sprinkles while we eat, so I get to try out my new (too big) jacket on the ride back. The north branch of the bike trail has not been cleared of storm detritus yet, and at one point we have to walk our bikes through the mud to get around an entire tree that has fallen across the path. A little farther on, I get a flat tire. My spare tube is patched, but not well, and it goes flat a short time later. I get a spare tube from the ride leader and I get my patching skills, pump choice, and my use of liners all critiqued while the tube is changed. I make it home spattered in mud and haul the Trek into the backyard for a quick rinse off.
I took a couple days off after the Condor Classic. Storm on Tuesday, but headed out Wednesday morning for the group ride. There are only three of us this morning, and we head north on E Levee road to Elverta and have breakfast at a little diner. It sprinkles while we eat, so I get to try out my new (too big) jacket on the ride back. The north branch of the bike trail has not been cleared of storm detritus yet, and at one point we have to walk our bikes through the mud to get around an entire tree that has fallen across the path. A little farther on, I get a flat tire. My spare tube is patched, but not well, and it goes flat a short time later. I get a spare tube from the ride leader and I get my patching skills, pump choice, and my use of liners all critiqued while the tube is changed. I make it home spattered in mud and haul the Trek into the backyard for a quick rinse off.
The Big Day!! 10/10
65mi (100k) fun ride in 5:20, Condor Classic in San Juan Bautista
We get to the ranch at a few minutes after 7am. It's a gray day with high fog and there is a 300 yard walk through the churned up dirt parking lot and up a steep hill to the starting line. I get my bracelet (blue), map, number (291), and have my bike inspected. Then it's time to head out.
We go through tiny San Juan Bautista and catch a quick view of the church from The first rest stop is only a few miles out, so we skip it. The pattern continues relentlessly throughout the day: rest stop then hills. The first hills are much more brutal than the ride description led us to expect. I put the Trek in the smallest chainring and twiddle away in the granny gears as best I can, but hills have never been my friends or even nodding acquaintances. It doesn't help that I get a puncture flat on one of the first climbs.
The first part of the ride is along one side of the valley. Nice views. The downhills don't quite make up for the climbs since they are curvy and can't be taken at speed. The rest stops are frequent, about every 11-12 miles, and stocked with local produce (Fuji apples, raisins, carrots, walnuts) and pretzels. I haven't found a sports drink I like yet, but I water down some Gatorade with a ton of water. Wrestling myself out of and back into my bib shorts is a discouraging experience, and after the second time (only for wardrobe adjustments), I vow not to even attempt it for the rest of the ride.
By 11am, the fog is lifting and the sun is peeking out. The temperature climbs quickly and I no longer freeze as soon as we stop. The middle portion of the ride circles us around some of the back farm roads, long, flat and boring. Then more hills on the other side of the valley. By now, I haven't been eating enough or had enough electrolytes or something. I'm getting cranky and want the ride to be over. One amazing downhill almost picks up my mood. I hit 43.7mph before I start to panic and start milking the brakes.
Then it's more unending flat farm roads with semis that give no leeway and a 25-30mph head/crosswind for the last 12 miles. My speed creeps down from 15 to 10mph. I'm going so slow and I'm so cranky that I can't even muster the concentration to draft. The ride lasts far too long by the time the ranch driveway finally comes into view. There's still a couple miles of driveway to negotiate, then checkin for my swag bag, then muscling the bike down the steep hill and across the field to the car, then quick change out of sweaty biking clothes, and back across the field and up the hill to get our post-ride barbecue (which is very tasty, but spoiled by the complete lack of any caffeine to drink). According to my computer, my total distance is 65 miles and riding time 5:20.
We get to the ranch at a few minutes after 7am. It's a gray day with high fog and there is a 300 yard walk through the churned up dirt parking lot and up a steep hill to the starting line. I get my bracelet (blue), map, number (291), and have my bike inspected. Then it's time to head out.
We go through tiny San Juan Bautista and catch a quick view of the church from The first rest stop is only a few miles out, so we skip it. The pattern continues relentlessly throughout the day: rest stop then hills. The first hills are much more brutal than the ride description led us to expect. I put the Trek in the smallest chainring and twiddle away in the granny gears as best I can, but hills have never been my friends or even nodding acquaintances. It doesn't help that I get a puncture flat on one of the first climbs.
The first part of the ride is along one side of the valley. Nice views. The downhills don't quite make up for the climbs since they are curvy and can't be taken at speed. The rest stops are frequent, about every 11-12 miles, and stocked with local produce (Fuji apples, raisins, carrots, walnuts) and pretzels. I haven't found a sports drink I like yet, but I water down some Gatorade with a ton of water. Wrestling myself out of and back into my bib shorts is a discouraging experience, and after the second time (only for wardrobe adjustments), I vow not to even attempt it for the rest of the ride.
By 11am, the fog is lifting and the sun is peeking out. The temperature climbs quickly and I no longer freeze as soon as we stop. The middle portion of the ride circles us around some of the back farm roads, long, flat and boring. Then more hills on the other side of the valley. By now, I haven't been eating enough or had enough electrolytes or something. I'm getting cranky and want the ride to be over. One amazing downhill almost picks up my mood. I hit 43.7mph before I start to panic and start milking the brakes.
Then it's more unending flat farm roads with semis that give no leeway and a 25-30mph head/crosswind for the last 12 miles. My speed creeps down from 15 to 10mph. I'm going so slow and I'm so cranky that I can't even muster the concentration to draft. The ride lasts far too long by the time the ranch driveway finally comes into view. There's still a couple miles of driveway to negotiate, then checkin for my swag bag, then muscling the bike down the steep hill and across the field to the car, then quick change out of sweaty biking clothes, and back across the field and up the hill to get our post-ride barbecue (which is very tasty, but spoiled by the complete lack of any caffeine to drink). According to my computer, my total distance is 65 miles and riding time 5:20.
Ride Report 10/7
Would have been about 43mi total, group ride to Amore in Gold River & back
I'm over my cold, and breathing fairly normally except for a dry cough that has stuck around. Today we have four or five in the group ride and head out to Gold River. On the way back, I just don't feel quite right and drop back to shed a layer of clothing and to eat a Powerbar. As I poke my way home, the ride leader has come back to find me and joins me the rest of the way to the Guy West Bridge, where I split off to go home.
At 39th & M Sts, I check the intersection and see oncoming cars, but neither is at their stop sign yet, so I proceed through the intersection. About halfway through, I realize the southbound car is not even slowing down and is going to hit me. I don't remember leaving the bike or landing on the ground, but I remember the hood sliding underneath me and then standing up from the ground. Of course, my first thought is what damage has been done to the bike (very little, it turns out). The northbound driver is a godsend and takes over the scene, ordering the driver who hit me to write down his information and then loading me and my bike in her SUV to give me a ride home. Amazingly, all I have wrong is 2 bruised knees and stiff/sore shoulders and neck. The Trek needs both wheels trued, the rear derailleur hanger straightened and the headset tightened. Oh, yes, and my doctor reminds me on Thursday to replace my helmet just in case.
I'm over my cold, and breathing fairly normally except for a dry cough that has stuck around. Today we have four or five in the group ride and head out to Gold River. On the way back, I just don't feel quite right and drop back to shed a layer of clothing and to eat a Powerbar. As I poke my way home, the ride leader has come back to find me and joins me the rest of the way to the Guy West Bridge, where I split off to go home.
At 39th & M Sts, I check the intersection and see oncoming cars, but neither is at their stop sign yet, so I proceed through the intersection. About halfway through, I realize the southbound car is not even slowing down and is going to hit me. I don't remember leaving the bike or landing on the ground, but I remember the hood sliding underneath me and then standing up from the ground. Of course, my first thought is what damage has been done to the bike (very little, it turns out). The northbound driver is a godsend and takes over the scene, ordering the driver who hit me to write down his information and then loading me and my bike in her SUV to give me a ride home. Amazingly, all I have wrong is 2 bruised knees and stiff/sore shoulders and neck. The Trek needs both wheels trued, the rear derailleur hanger straightened and the headset tightened. Oh, yes, and my doctor reminds me on Thursday to replace my helmet just in case.
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