Death Ride Part I - Pre-Event Training

Well, it's been over a year since my last blog entry. You can blame Facebook for that. I've got a little more to say this time, so a return to the blog seemed appropriate.

Christine and I just returned last night from my latest cycling adventure. Saturday was a big day in the saddle for me. I participated in the Death Ride.












The DR, also known as the Tour of the California Alps, is a pretty epic road bike ride with an embarrassingly pretentious name. On paper it is 129 miles, with over 15,000 feet of climbing over 5 mountain passes. In real life, it is every bit of that and more. It is a beautiful, glorious test of skill and character.

Those that know me or have been following my Facebook posts, know that I have been training very hard in preparation for this event. For a variety of reasons, I started training late and had some significant ground to make up. I joined in with Team in Training's ACE (Altitude, Climbing, Endurance) team on one of their midseason training rides as a guest mentor, and got my ass handed to me barely able to complete the ride. I may not be the most skilled or accomplished cyclist, but I try to work hard. I firmly believe that if you put your time in and do the work, you can reach your highest goals. So I started on plan B, putting in long lonely solo hours on the bike, doing endless climbing repeats on local mountains until I felt that I could show my face again with the ACE team on the last few training rides. My performance improved significantly, but I still felt I was behind the curve consistently finishing last on every ride. Then I had a nasty crash on Soledad Mountain with a nice visit to the ER which slowed me down during the last crucial weeks of training. My coaches advised me to trust in my training and rest and recover, but I couldn't help feeling that I had to get one last long training ride in and pushed it a little bit. It went great so I started to get some confidence back. In hindsight, it wasn't necessary from a physical standpoint, but it was crucial from a mental standpoint. I had to get back on that horse to see how my body would react. Even with all that, I'm not going to lie to you, I went into event weekend more than a little worried.

More later.

Crossing Wheels

I'm way late in reporting the Team ride from Saturday. Darn life getting in the way. I'm a little fuzzy on the details now so I'll keep it brief.

The ride was about the same as last week's route through Rancho Santa Fe with the addition of "Stud Loop".

Here's a map of the entire route, courtesy of Google Earth.




















3-28-09 Route

The little loop de loop on the upper right is called Stud Loop. I've enlarged the map so you can get a feel for what it's like.
















Stud Loop (Click on the image)

This particularly scenic route is a joy to ride. The rolling route is situated in such a way that if you ride efficiently, you can do the whole thing while in your big front chain ring. Being in your big ring gives you access to your upper (harder to pedal) gears which are usually only used on downhills or flat straight aways. If you ride the entire loop in the big ring, you qualify as a "stud". So it was another demonstration of the concept of cycling "momentum" that I was talking about on last weeks ride.

The team had a blast riding through this area. Beautiful tranquil riding with no cars in sight. That's what I signed up for!

Not everything was paradise, though. We had a crossing wheels incident just as we left the loop area. Maintaining the proper distance between bikes when riding in a pace line takes concentration, practice and trust. Concentration to stay vigilant and respond the ebbs and flow of speed changes. Practice to expend just enough energy to close any gaps or get back in line after rotating off the front. You also need to trust the riders in front of you to ride smoothly and not "make any sudden moves". Crossing wheels is when the front tire of the rider in the back touches the back tire of the rider directly ahead. It usually results in the rider in the rear getting their front tire suddenly jerked to the side causing an immediate crash. The back tire of the rider ahead is more stable because it is locked in place (no turning side to side) and because it is pinned by the weight of the rider. Crossing wheels is the result of either the rider ahead slowing too quickly not allowing the rider behind to react in time or of the rider behind "spacing out" and losing concentration allowing their speed to increase faster than the rider ahead. This sometimes happens on a slight downhill with the heavier rider in back picking up more speed on the slight decline.

Luckily the crossing wheels happened at very slow speeds so the crash wasn't too bad. The rider that went down had a scraped knee and no damage to the bike. It was a concrete example of the real dangers of falling asleep at the wheel and a good opportunity to give the crossing wheels lecture again. A rider in another group wasn't so lucky. That group had an crossing wheels incident where the rider was spun over the top of their bars, bouncing and flipping head over foot and into the middle of the street in a busy intersection. Luckily there were no cars immediately nearby. Not so luckily was that that rider ended up breaking their arm.

Two crashes in one day. No good :( This is one of those rare occasions where someone gets really hurt. It's very unfortunate and very preventable.

As a mentor, I try to help people have fun but I have to measure that against some "nagging" about riding safely. It can sometimes be awkward but incidents like these make it neccessary.

Milestone Challenge

Yesterday was the Milestone Challenge Ride. This ride was a fundraiser for a local Team in Training Alumni, Skip Gleavey. Skip is a "triple crowner" meaning that he has completed at least one marathon, century ride and triathlon with Team in training.

Skip had a terrible accident earlier this year riding in a Century bike ride where he crashed around mile 32 and broke his back. There but for the grace of God, go I.

A group of his friends got together to organize a ride to help raise money to help meet this new challenge in his life.

Following is an article that was written in one of the local papers, the North County Times on Saturday November 22nd.

Rider doesn't let illness or injuries change his course

By JEFF FRANK - Staff Writer | Saturday, November 22, 2008 10:30 PM PST ∞

The bumps in Skip Gleavey's road are more like mountains. But the long-distance cyclist and triathlete keeps rolling over them.

To say that Gleavey has faced some challenges over the last five years is like saying the sun is bright in July. This guy's health chart reads like the first-year curriculum at Harvard Medical School.

A few details:

Summer 2003: Gleavey breaks an ankle training to run a marathon in Arizona. March 2004: He returns from a business trip feeling a little tightness in his chest. When he wakes up the next day feeling a bit sore, he goes out for a 5-mile run.

It didn't help. Two days later, Gleavey's wife, Denise, pushes him to go to the hospital. Blood work reveals he had suffered a massive heart attack, one that doctors were surprised hadn't killed him, Gleavey said. He quickly underwent surgery to have two stents inserted into cardiac arteries.

April 2004: Gleavey is diagnosed with stage 4 follicular lymphoma, a blood cancer that while slow-progressing, can't be cured. Doctors tell Gleavey he has about six years to live, even with treatment.

Gleavey's response? "It looks like we're going to have to elongate that curve. I have no plan of dying. I may have cancer, but cancer doesn't have me. I've got too much to do."

Then the Clairemont resident got busy doing it.

Already an experienced marathon runner, he decided to branch out. After leaving the cancer ward, he and his wife went to a bicycle shop, with an eye toward training for triathlons and long-distance bike rides.

Given his prognosis, Gleavey briefly considered buying inexpensive bicycles before his incessant determination kicked in. He opted instead for a pair of top-of-the-line carbon fiber bikes.

"I was not going to let cancer hold me hostage at all," he said.

Those bikes got plenty of use as he trained on the coastal and backcountry roads of North County. Gleavey mixed marathon runs with triathlons, with occasional 100-mile bike rides sprinkled in.

This summer was typical. Gleavey, 63, competed in the Rock 'n' Roll Marathon in June. The following month, he took part in a half-Ironman Triathlon in his native Rhode Island. In August, he was riding in the Cool Breeze Century, a 100-mile ride in Ventura, when his next health adventure began.

At mile 38, riding downhill at about 35 mph, Gleavey estimated, he misjudged the sharpness of a curve and realized he could either lay down his bike, likely wiping out a number of other cyclists, or take his chances leaving the road.

Luck was not with him when he chose the latter course. He struck the edge of a ditch, flipping into the air. On the way down, his helmet caught the edge of something, snapping his neck back.

Gleavey came out of the crash with a broken neck and back and paralyzed from the rib cage down.

Besides the paralysis, his other injuries are healing nicely. And Gleavey already has his eyes on future athletic challenges.

"I've already been down to the (Challenged Athletes Foundation) event and met with people from Operation Rebound for (veterans). They can help with purchases of racing wheelchairs," said Gleavey, who served three years in the Marine Corps. "I plan to walk again. I haven't given that up. In the meantime, I'm not going to lay around. I can be a challenged athlete."

To that end, he is looking into swimming lessons and physical therapy to get him moving again. And he's getting a boost from friends he met while participating with the Team in Training events raising money for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society of San Diego.

Six of those friends, all North County residents, plan to pick up where Gleavey left off on his last ride, putting together the Milestone Challenge, a 62-mile round-trip ride from Solana Beach to San Clemente.

"We decided we would ride the 62 miles to complete the 100-mile ride he was on. He was on mile 38," said Greg Voisen, the ride organizer. "He's just an amazing inspiration for everybody."

Voisen is being assisted by his wife, Lisa, friends Alan and Helen Dalziel and sisters Carey and Marty Klinger in organizing the Dec. 6 fundraiser, which will include the 8 a.m. ride, which leaves from Solana Beach City Hall, followed by lunch and a silent auction from 2 to 6 p.m. at Chiefs Burgers and Brew, 124 Lomas Santa Fe Drive.

The group is aiming to attract 100 riders for the event while hoping to raise $30,000 to pay some of Gleavey's medical bills and the cost of making his home wheelchair accessible.

Call Voisen at (888) 337-6416 or Alan Dalziel at (760) 712-3130 or visit www.milestonechallenge.com for information.

Typically, Gleavey hopes to lead the parade. While he can't pedal, he's trying to get a hand cycle or a racing wheelchair so he can pace the group for a quarter-mile or so.

"It's just who I am," Gleavey said of his can-do spirit. "I never look back. I never sit around wondering 'Why me?' ... I'm one who can never turn down a good challenge, and this here is a good challenge for me ---- just another challenge I have to go through."

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The ride was a very positive experience. I rode with several close friends that I have made with Team in Training. The ride itself was a simple out and back starting in Solano Beach up the coast through Camp Pendelton and back. It was another very beautiful day in the area and it was nice to be able to ride at a more leisurely pace and chat with friends after such an intense experience in Tucson. The ride went well with two exceptions.

1) I got a pretty bad twinge in my knee very early in the ride and rode in mild to moderate pain throughout the day. I don't know if it is a lingering after-effect of the twinge I felt towards the end of the Tucson ride. I had forgotten all about that and don't notice anything when I'm walking. I only feel pain when I'm riding in a big gear, cranking away or when I'm climbing. It is a serious enough feeling that I'm planning on seeing my doctor ASAP. Stay tuned.

2) Flatted. Nothing too dramatic but it happened seconds after I had complained that I was ready to be off my bike. Pssssssst. God works in mysterious ways.

The silent auction/raffle at Chief's Burgers afterwards was a blast. I won a bike light and a cool water bottle. I was sadly outbid on every auction I went after including, 1-hour massage, Bike Nutrition basket, 1-hour session with a personal trainer, very cool "speedplay" bike pedals. The bike ticket item was a new bicycle, valued at $1500 that sold for $900. Someone got a deal there. One of the items at auction was a personalize cycling outfit. You create your own design, motto, team name, whatever and the sponsor would custom make a jersey, bike shorts, socks, arm warmers, leg warmers and jacket with that design. An amazing prize, value at $1,000. The winning bid was $250! I was very very tempted with that one but just couldn't justify the purchase. I'm sure I'll be kicking myself later about the one that got away.

I think the fundrasier was highly successful. I understand that there were over 110 riders, and the amount of money raised was estimated to be over $20,000. All and all a very good day.

El Tour de Tucson

Well the big day finally arrived, the culmination of 4 months of training. The goal was 109-miles in 6 hours. Further and faster than I had ever gone before.

The day started at 4:30 am when the hotel alarm went off and I got dressed for the ride. I had carefully prepared the night before and had done everything from pinning my race number to my jersey, laying out my clothes to prepping my breakfast. My group meets in the lobby at 5am where we munch away at the meager "early breakfast" hotel offerings and head out to the course.















Bright Eyed and Busy Tailed (Jeff, Me, Ashley, Brian, Donna)

By 5:30 am we are in the start corrals. We line up on the "fast" side. It is a balmy 53 degrees and I'm trying to contain my excitement. Several porta-pottie stops later, we're approaching zero hour. Christine meets us a few minutes before the 7am start and accepts our jackets, hats and other warm clothing that we won't be using for the ride. Jeff and Brian's wife are also there to see us off. It's an exciting moment.















Corrals Before the Race




















The Chad















Donna and Ashley Ready to Rock




















Jeff is Not So Ready to Rock

The gun goes off and hundreds of bikes are creeping forward inches from each other. Bunch starts are nerve wracking. Gradually space starts opening up and I can safely clip my second foot into the pedal and away we go. Here's a map of the route. Click on it for larger size.
















Route

The start is chaotic as riders bolt off trying to get a jump on the field. Chad had prepped us for this and we let them run away, confident that we would catch up to the majority of them midway through the ride when they tired out.

Around mile 8, we get to the first river crossing.














First River Crossing

There are hundreds of riders that all dismount, pick up their bikes and make their way across the roughly 1/4-mile crossing. Some are rolling their bikes, others are running with them. People are darting all around, some are stumbling. I get across and am separated from my group. I see Chad and Brian up ahead in Team in Training jerseys so I put my head down and I start after them.

That's when it all went horribly wrong. I lose sight of them and after a few minutes I still don't see them. I'm convinced that they are ahead of me lost in the sea of other riders so I take off after them trying to catch up. I still can't find them and I'm starting to get very worried. I stupidly had decided to leave my cell phone behind as I have never had to use it in all my training rides or past Centuries and thought I might gain a small advantage by carrying less weight.

I slow my pace way down and let hundreds of riders pass me up and still don't see them. We're going for time, so I think that they wouldn't just stop. I stop and wait thinking maybe they are somehow behind me and they still aren't there. I'm also going for time so I half-heartedly start up again going 10 mph. What to do? If they are ahead of me, they will probably stop unless I take too long. If they are behind me, they will be riding as a group and will catch up to me. I could ride back but if I'm wrong, there is no way we make our goal. If I stop and wait and they are ahead, what if I'm wrong? They will have to come back for me. We have a scheduled stop at roughly the midpoint of the ride after the second river crossing so I just decide to ride and if worst comes to worse, we will meet there. If they are behind, they will catch me in the next 40 miles. If they are ahead of me, they will wait for me at the stop.

Flawed decision or not, I decide to ride ahead. It was a very strange experience, as I have never ridden a considerable distance without a team. It's a whole different world out there. I try to grab a wheel hoping to conserve strength by drafting but that doesn't go so well. The rider is purposely swerving around to make it difficult to draft off of him. I get the none to subtle hint and drop off and there I am, in the middle of two groups alone battling a headwind. Not good. My average pace was around 14 mph at that time a far cry from the average of 18.1 I need to hit if I'm going to reach my goal of finishing under 6 hours. I ride on trying to make up time. Average pace is slowly creeping up, 15.5 mph, then 16.1 mph and then we hit a downhill. 16.8 mph average! I give it a little gas and continue barreling down the hill and stumble unto a small group of riders being lead by a tandem bicycle. I ask if I can join on and there are no objections. Finally an opportunity to rest. I tuck in behind and it is smooth sailing. We eat up 20 miles with the tandem plowing through the air. Average speed is now up into the 17.2 mph range. Now we're talking. Somewhere around mile 45 they start to slow, I can't afford that so I give some heartfelt thanks and move ahead. I hit the second river crossing with an average pace of 17.4 mph, feeling good.

This crossing is twice as long as the last one and even more chaotic. Some bikers are actually riding through the silty dirt screaming at those walking their bikes to get out of the way. I decide to take a short nature break as there are no lines at the portables located in the middle of the crossing. Back on the crossing, I make it back on to paved road and hop on the bike with some silt in my shoes. Not too bad, though. I climb up the short hill looking for our support stop and don't see them. I'm getting totally demoralized at this point. I can't have missed them as I have been carefully looking for them. I turn a bend in the road and see some friendly faces. Jeff and Brian's wife are there waving purple and green signs. I roll up and immediately ask, "how far ahead are the rest of the team"? I get a couple of confused looks and they say, that I'm the first to arrive. Somehow I've managed to ride the first half of the race alone and end up ahead of the rest of my team. I'm feeling like a major idiot at this point. About a minute later, the rest of the Team rolls up and everyone looks relieved. I say sorry, feeling like a total dolt. Chad makes a call to the coaches to let them know that we've been reunited.

Back to business, we swap water bottles, eat quickly and are back on the bikes in less than 2 minutes. I say sorry again, looking for some sort of absolution and everyone is cool with me and say that they are just happy to have found me.

We proceed on and encounter some rolling hills and then a steady climb. All of a sudden, my legs are protesting and I'm paying the price for my solo jaunt. I get dropped on the last climb and thankfully Chad is soft-pedaling at the top of the hill and leads me out to the rest of the group letting me draft behind him. Everything is ok on the flats. I take the opportunity to eat, and devour an energy bar and some salted almonds. The effect is almost immediate and I feel much better on the next climb.

We pass a couple of ambulances and there are at least two riders on the ground in a jumble of splintered bike parts. One has a neck brace on. It is a very disturbing sight. I read the next day in the paper that there was a hit and run incident where a car plowed into 10 riders, got out of his car to look for any damage to his vehicle, looked at the riders and then sped away. Hopefully there is a warm spot in hell for him after he's done rotting in jail. I say a little prayer for the downed riders and we move on.

We continue on at a fast clip of over 20mph, building the average speed back up. We pass a group of Team in Training Riders from New Jersey and one of them says, "there they go. You guys from San Diego are always mowing us down out here". We're famous :)

We hit the much anticipated downhill on Tangerine Road. It is roughly 16 miles of rolling, mostly downhill. Jeff and I take turns at the front and lead a train of about 20 riders down the hill at speeds over 30 mph. What a blast.

All good things come to an end and then we hit a some more hills and continue on over a long series of rollers. They are taking their toll on me, I'm tired and fading. Ashley is also struggling, which is strange as she is always so strong. We slow the pace trying to recover and are having trouble riding as a group. We've got 20 miles to go and need to average above 22 mph if we are going to finish in under 6 hours. Trouble in paradise.

We hit mile 95, and I'm feeling like crap. Every part of my body in contact with the bike is in bad pain. My hands are numb, my butt is sore and my feet are burning. I fidget around trying to find a position that doesn't hurt and am not successful. My quads start cramping bad. 14 miles to go. Hmm, that is looking like another hour on the bike at our current pace. I'm starting to doubt if I will be able to finish. The miles start passing slowly. Mile 100, only 9 more to go. Knee starts hurting from the strain of turning the cranks. I lower the resistance and spin a little more to reduce the pressure. I'm struggling to keep on a wheel. Chad is encouraging and motivating me. "Almost done", "It will hurt even more without the wheel", "C'mon". I eat my last energy bar and bit of almonds. I'm down to 1/2 bottle of water. The last 9 miles are pure agony and feel like all uphill. Down to 5 miles, and I start thinking, that 5 miles is really only two loops around Fiesta Island. Playing tricks with myself, setting short term goals to keep moving. Feet are burning and I lift them up in my shoes to relieve the pressure whenever we hit a small downhill. 2.5 miles left. That's just one loop around Fiesta Island! We turn the corner and suddenly the finish line is in sight. We bunch up and cross together as a Team. Awesome!

We cross the line, and our timing chip is removed and our race bibs are marked. Someone notices that Ashley's front tire is flat. Must have been a slow leak and explains her uncharacteristic struggles. I stagger away leaning on my bike to stay upright. I'm feeling completely and totally whipped. Feeling a little disoriented, I make my way to a nearby patch of grass and lay down and take off the shoes. Other finishers are milling around. Brian and Jeff's wife are there and there is champagne. We pop a couple of bottles and just savor the experience.

Someone looks up our time and it is 6hours 20 minutes. We didn't make it... Damn!

I hobble over to the medal tent and a collect my silver medal and then make my way to the Team in Training Tent to check-in and grab something to eat.




















Medal

Sandwiches, watermelon, chips. I try to find a shady spot and gingerly sit down to eat. I'm still very shaken from my experience and a flood of emotions pass over me as I'm sitting there. Disappointment for not making the goal, relief of being done, fear of almost not finishing, guilt of getting separated from the group, respect for what I have just done. I start thinking of my family members who died of Leukemia and the pain is worth it. Disappointment turns to pride. I can honestly say I took myself to the limit and rode as hard and fast as I was able. I rode until it nearly killed me. I just finished riding 109-miles at an average pace of 17.1 mph! That is awesome!

I rejoin the group and we head back to the hotel. I take a quick shower and Christine babies me as I lay down to rest and recover. At 4pm, two hours later, I get the call. The next group of riders are coming in. I suit up, and we ride back out to escort them across the finish line as a show of support. We collect two groups and ride in as a Team. It's great.

We hang out for another hour or so and then head out for the next batch of riders. Our last rider comes in about 10 minutes shy of the 11-hour time limit. 11 hours on a bike and not giving up. That is dedication.

Totals for the day were

109-miles
3400+ feet of climbing
Average pace of 17.1 mph
Total Time: 6 hours, 20 minutes, 32 seconds
1491st place out of 4,539 century riders and 8,636 total riders.

More importantly, the total amount of funds raised by all the Team in Training chapters participating to fight blood cancers exceeded 1 million dollars.

Saturday Comeback and Cars are Dangerous

This week's ride was another rough one. I skipped last week's ride and stayed home sick. I am still not 100% but I was feeling a lot better so I decided to ride.

We started the day heading north from Mission Bay up through UCSD before making our way East onto the Highway 56 bike path into Poway. I was feeling pretty so-so and the ride up until that point was nearly all uphill. I was having no trouble on the straights which was a relief after the last time I rode. I was also hanging tough on the climb. Then things got interesting. The next 25 miles were a real struggle for me. I started feeling pretty blah and a little weak. We were also as far East as Lake Hodges and it was downright hot out there. More climbing and I'm starting to lag behind again. I'm really heating up pretty badly, too. We crest a large hill and I have to call "time" and get the group to stop. I remove my gloves, and my wicking fabric headcap that I'm wearing beneath my helmet and unzip my jersey and squirt some water over my head and down my front. Back on the road and I'm feeling much cooler, with air shooting down my helmet cooling me down. 5 miles later, we stop at a CVS to fill up on water as a couple of us are nearly out. I drink a large Gatorade and sit in the shade for a few moments and we head to our next SAG stop which is right outside a gas station. I head into the station and soak my face and head with cold water. A peanut butter/jelly sandwich and a large handful of trail mix and we are back on the road with another 25 miles to go.

Things are back to normal and I am feeling not just better, but very strong. Our pace line is working and we are hauling. We turn south along the coast and there's Torrey Pines Road again. If you remember, I limped up the hill the last time I rode it. Mentor Chad says that we will climb as a team, which is code for climb at Steve's pace because I had confessed to him that I was hurting earlier in the day. Well, I'm feeling good and take the lead and shoot up the hill at a minimum pace of 7 mph which is a very respectable. Saturday comeback. Having redeemed myself, we continue on. We are riding along a very low traffic frontage road after leaving the Rose Canyon bike path when all of a sudden Donna and Ashley who were riding at the back of the line, just blow past us at full speed. Chad smirks and says to the remaining three of us..."go get 'em". So we line up, with me in front, followed by Jeff and then Brian and try to chase them down. They had a huge jump on us but we hit it hard. I'm sprinting up front, breaking through the wind, and flashing back to my sprints at the Track. I go until, I start to fade, and then rotate off to the back of the line and Jeff takes over. More sprinting, then he rotates off for our anchor, Brian and we finally rein them in, all gasping for air. Thanks, Chad ;)

Feeling good, we coast to our start point...and ride right past it! I wave goodbye to my car as we roll past. We proceed up the road a few miles to Fiesta Island and go about a mile and stop. Chad tells us we are going to practice our river crossing. The Tucson Century ride I'm training for requires crossing two dry river beds. He gives us a few tips on how to carry our bikes, showing us three different methods and then we head through the middle of the island over sandy beach with our bikes under our arms. The last thing I expected was to have to walk through sand carrying my bike after riding 70+ miles.

Next we lined up in a pace line to head back home having just completed the last bit of the shorter loop and were heading back out to the entrance. Chad was at the front of the pace line and I was at the back of the line. We had just passed the last few fire pit spots before veering
right along the paved road to go to the exit. A very large truck appeared just as we were rounding the corner directly in our path. The truck was going the wrong way on a one way road! Traffic on the island goes counter-clockwise but the truck had taken the left off the main entry road and was going clockwise clearly against the signage and traffic paint. There was little time to react and Chad and the driver both tried to veer to miss each other but both ended up going the same direction. Chad looses control of the bike and goes into a long slide, thankfully out the path of the truck. The rest of us brake hard and spray out to miss him laying on the road. The driver pulls over and runs back scared and apologetic. Chad is curled up on the ground, conscious but in obvious pain. His clothing is ripped and he's got bad road rash from his hard slide. Donna was instantly on the cell phone trying to reach 911 and couldn't get through. She tried to call our Head Coach, Ricky but he didn't pick up. We were looking for the phone number for our Support and Gear (SAG) volunteer but it was taking too long. We were a mile away from everyone we were trying to reach so I just decided to head back to the start point and bring someone back. I took off and sprinted the mile back to the parking lot. I arrived so out of breath that I could hardly relay the message but thankfully Donna was able to reach the SAG volunteer and he was already on his way. A few minutes later, they arrive and Chad is looking ok.

I heard back from him today that his visit to the emergency room showed no serious damage beyond the road rash. He was very lucky.

Totals for the day was 77.5 miles with about 4,000 feet of climbing and two very serious sprints.

Here's the map of our route.

The Miles are Starting to Show

Looking over last week's training log, I see that the totals were 133 miles and over 8000 feet of climbing. The miles are starting to show.

1) I've recently had to replace my bike chain as it was stretched out from all the heavy riding I've been doing.
2) Thursday, I had my first flat.
3) Also on Thursday, one of the screws fell off of one of my biking shoes cleats while I was riding. I didn't find it out until I tried to unclip and couldn't. Without the point of resistance from missing screw, my cleat just spun around not allowing me to unclip. I had to do the last part of the Soledad ride unclipping from the opposite side than I am used to. Got a little squirrely there for a bit..
4) I need to true my back tire as it is starting to get a little too wobbly for comfort.

Now for the body:

A) sore lower back
B) a bit of a knee twinge
C) very sore Vaste Externe muscles. See chart below




















D) Foot pain that I suspect is Plantar Fascia Strain
E) and finally some very sore quads.

Today I'm feeling particulary dehydrated and can't seem to catch up with my hydration despite drinking like a fish all day.

Consequently, I took a well deserved day off from working out.

...and the rain came

You know you're getting a little cocky when 14 miles seems hardly worth getting out of bed for. This weekend's walk started at Ventura Cove and proceeded along the Mission Beach boardwalk for 14 total miles. I really felt like sleeping in but had to suck it up and get my butt down there for the 6:30 am start time. It was gloomy and overcast and smelled like trouble.

We were supposed to take a group photo but it was raining as I pulled up and it looked like a pretty sparse crowd. We sat in our cars for a few minutes until it let up and then gathered around for announcements. Bad news was no group photo that day. Too many people had bailed because of the weather. Good news was that I have reached 75% of my fund-raising goal of $6,500! After a few slaps on the back and some stretching we hit the road.

This was the first real workout for my new shoes. I was a little worried about taking them on the longer mileage having just gotten them the day before but I powdered up, cinched tight and crossed my fingers. We caught a break in the weather for the first 5-miles then BAMM, it was pouring rain. I got soaked to the skin in about 30 seconds but we kept trucking along. I was very grateful of my trusty baseball cap as it kept the water out of my eyes. The restaurant patrons along the boardwalk looked at us like we were crazy but a few cheered, which was nice.

Walking in the rain is a real mixed bag. On one hand, if there is no wind, it keeps you cool. On the other hand it makes shoe traction difficult, particularly when walking across metal grating. I wouldn't choose it but it honestly wasn't that bad. Thinking about it, it was probably good practice for Dublin as there is a good chance we'll see some rain there. Once it cleared up, the performance clothing I was wearing dried remarkably quickly. Makes sense since it designed to wick away sweat from your skin and cool you via the evaporative process.

Didn't time myself this week but I did very well making it back to home base first along with super-quick Johanna. Feet were OK, although the big blister on the bottom of my foot from a few weeks back threatened to make a reappearance. Definitely going to use Mole Skin next week.

Signing off....

Hospitality Point or back in the saddle again

Well after a week lollygagging around nursing a blistered foot I made the Saturday session. I didn't do a lick of exercise for an entire week and was going out of my mind. I haven't gone more than a few days without exercise in over a year and half since I started my big diet. The blister had pretty much healed up and I felt good enough using a blister band-aid and a lot of anti-blister powder in my socks to give it another go. Still not trusting my new shoes for longer mileage, I reverted back to my old pair. It was a back down week after last weeks 18-miler. We walked 12 miles at Hospitality Point.

It was a pretty rough day for me. I woke up incredibly cranky and feeling generally irritable. All the lights were too bright, the music was too loud, the other drivers were too slow, it was too early, complain, complain, complain. I dragged myself out there and just tried to avoid people which is usually the best strategy when I'm feeling surly. The first few miles, I completely babied my foot and hung way back of the group. At one time I was actually bringing up the rear, grumbling to myself. I'm usually one of the fast ones towards the front end of the pack. Finally about 4 miles in, my pride showed up and decided to catch up with Christine and the others that I usually walk with. The only problem was that they were already at least a mile of ahead of me and they are no slouches when it comes to power walking. I turned it up and started overtaking some of the others. Got to my first aid station and was feeling good so I decided to skip it so I'd have a better chance of catching my normal group. More miles and then the second aid station. Still feeling good, had plenty of water decided to skip that one too. Big mistake. The nice thing about aid stations is that there is food, salt and water there. Somewhere between the second and third aid station I started bonking out. Bonking means just losing all your energy and feeling really tired. I hadn't been eating my normal snacks during the walk and now I was behind the food curve. Pace slows and then I happened to run into Coach Peggy who was making her rounds to check on her flock of walkers. She gave me some salt to replenish my electrolytes and walked with me until the next aid station (Mile 9ish) where I proceeded to eat two handfuls of M&M's, some pretzels, an energy bar and some red vines. Fortified with sugar, I bolted out of the gate for the final three miles. I never caught the other group but I got damn close. The last half mile they were in striking distance. I think I could have caught them if the course was a little longer but c'est la vie. Average for the 12 miles was right around 15 mins/mile. Respectable considering how poorly I started.