slacker, part II
It seems many of you were recently going through your email recently and deleting the old stuff. I have received several messages in the past couple of weeks taking me to task for my lack of promised stories. I know, I know; I am sorry. Storytime is long overdue. For that matter, a quick note saying I realize that storytime is long overdue is long overdue.
I won't go so far as to admit in a semi-public forum that I am somewhat less than a "glass is half-full" individual, but I find it curious that the words come easier when describing tales of woe. Give me an event in which nearly everything goes off with out a hitch, and I will struggle for weeks - nay, months - to find something interesting to say. If, for example, I were to have been riding in temperatures as scalding as those we are currently experiencing, my body long drenched in copious perspiration, my jersey tested to the extent of its wicking properties, and my water bottles consistently three-quarters empty and me with miles to go before my next opportunity to refill forcing me to conserve and risk dehydration.... Well, if that had happened I can say with all confidence I would have not trouble describing in excruciating detail the unfortunate circumstances of my flat tire on the way out to Truckee. As it is - or was, rather - it suffices barely to mention it in passing. Like I just did.
So as you may have already presumed, the Tahoe ride was about as close to perfect as one could hope for. In previous years, the temperature at the 6AM start had been in the upper thirties. And though the lower forties doesn't seem all that much warmer, it makes a huge difference, believe you me. We had sunny skies all day, and when I rolled into the lunch stop at King's Beach around one-thirty, the clock at the bank was still indicating under 70 degrees. And best of all: there was little wind. I fell slightly short of my personal goal of eight and a half hours total time, but that was mostly due to extenuating circumstance. Unfortunately, two cyclists were fairly seriously injured - one requiring a helicopter evacuation to Reno - delaying the ride by about an hour. I won't allow myself to be disappointed with my time.
I got a little tired on the slight climb back to the lake road from Truckee. Due to my flat, I abbreviated my stop at the pit and ate on my bike. I didn't want to hold up my compatriots, who had arrived earlier and rested while I dealt with my mechanical problems. In hindsight, it might not have been the smartest idea, but I was able to recover at lunch, and held my own through the remainder of the ride. My ascent of Spooner Summit went far more swimmingly than last year. It's still a long-ass hill, though. Perhaps the best indicator of this year's ride is the last ten miles. My first year - in 2004 - I made it up and over every hill, but it wasn't easy. Last year, I entertained thoughts of blissful death. I had been so preoccupied with simply climbing Spooner that I saved almost nothing for the end of the ride. That's the thing, really. It's nearly 800' up to Spooner Summit and I didn't consider that after the two mile descent there are another eight miles of not-so-gently rolling hills. But this year, well... I kicked ass. The last ten miles were among my strongest, It may have been because of better training. Or it may have been because of the two goo shots I ingested at the top of Spooner. Who's to say? At any rate, I felt far better after 100 miles than I did after sixty.
But more importantly, the Team rode wonderfully. Once again, the National Capital Area Chapter of Team in Training had one of the largest groups out there. Our team raised over $350,000 of the total $8,000,000 raised nationally by Team in Training. We took a grand total of 75 cyclists - I am almost positive we were the largest team from east of the Mississippi River - to Nevada and every single one who rode that Sunday crossed the finish line entirely under their own power. We had one casualty; our top fundraiser - a man named Ashby - pulled a muscle on the previous evening and was unable to ride. He couldn't ride for medical reasons last year either. He's raised over $40,000 over the past two years and has yet to even begin the ride. I sure hope he is on the team next year; I just want to be there when he finally gets to ride.
I can't thank enough those who have already donated to this most worthwhile cause. Thanks to your generosity, I have already reached my fundraising minimums for not only Tahoe, but the Seagull Century. My attention now turns to El Tour de Tucson, and the remainder of my Seagull training. For what it is worth, it almost always rains - and heavily (last year the Eastern Shore saw about six inches in one day) - for Seagull, and Tucson, at 112 miles, is about forty minutes longer than a century. In short, there may be a few tales of woe to inspire me yet.
I won't go so far as to admit in a semi-public forum that I am somewhat less than a "glass is half-full" individual, but I find it curious that the words come easier when describing tales of woe. Give me an event in which nearly everything goes off with out a hitch, and I will struggle for weeks - nay, months - to find something interesting to say. If, for example, I were to have been riding in temperatures as scalding as those we are currently experiencing, my body long drenched in copious perspiration, my jersey tested to the extent of its wicking properties, and my water bottles consistently three-quarters empty and me with miles to go before my next opportunity to refill forcing me to conserve and risk dehydration.... Well, if that had happened I can say with all confidence I would have not trouble describing in excruciating detail the unfortunate circumstances of my flat tire on the way out to Truckee. As it is - or was, rather - it suffices barely to mention it in passing. Like I just did.
So as you may have already presumed, the Tahoe ride was about as close to perfect as one could hope for. In previous years, the temperature at the 6AM start had been in the upper thirties. And though the lower forties doesn't seem all that much warmer, it makes a huge difference, believe you me. We had sunny skies all day, and when I rolled into the lunch stop at King's Beach around one-thirty, the clock at the bank was still indicating under 70 degrees. And best of all: there was little wind. I fell slightly short of my personal goal of eight and a half hours total time, but that was mostly due to extenuating circumstance. Unfortunately, two cyclists were fairly seriously injured - one requiring a helicopter evacuation to Reno - delaying the ride by about an hour. I won't allow myself to be disappointed with my time.
I got a little tired on the slight climb back to the lake road from Truckee. Due to my flat, I abbreviated my stop at the pit and ate on my bike. I didn't want to hold up my compatriots, who had arrived earlier and rested while I dealt with my mechanical problems. In hindsight, it might not have been the smartest idea, but I was able to recover at lunch, and held my own through the remainder of the ride. My ascent of Spooner Summit went far more swimmingly than last year. It's still a long-ass hill, though. Perhaps the best indicator of this year's ride is the last ten miles. My first year - in 2004 - I made it up and over every hill, but it wasn't easy. Last year, I entertained thoughts of blissful death. I had been so preoccupied with simply climbing Spooner that I saved almost nothing for the end of the ride. That's the thing, really. It's nearly 800' up to Spooner Summit and I didn't consider that after the two mile descent there are another eight miles of not-so-gently rolling hills. But this year, well... I kicked ass. The last ten miles were among my strongest, It may have been because of better training. Or it may have been because of the two goo shots I ingested at the top of Spooner. Who's to say? At any rate, I felt far better after 100 miles than I did after sixty.
But more importantly, the Team rode wonderfully. Once again, the National Capital Area Chapter of Team in Training had one of the largest groups out there. Our team raised over $350,000 of the total $8,000,000 raised nationally by Team in Training. We took a grand total of 75 cyclists - I am almost positive we were the largest team from east of the Mississippi River - to Nevada and every single one who rode that Sunday crossed the finish line entirely under their own power. We had one casualty; our top fundraiser - a man named Ashby - pulled a muscle on the previous evening and was unable to ride. He couldn't ride for medical reasons last year either. He's raised over $40,000 over the past two years and has yet to even begin the ride. I sure hope he is on the team next year; I just want to be there when he finally gets to ride.
I can't thank enough those who have already donated to this most worthwhile cause. Thanks to your generosity, I have already reached my fundraising minimums for not only Tahoe, but the Seagull Century. My attention now turns to El Tour de Tucson, and the remainder of my Seagull training. For what it is worth, it almost always rains - and heavily (last year the Eastern Shore saw about six inches in one day) - for Seagull, and Tucson, at 112 miles, is about forty minutes longer than a century. In short, there may be a few tales of woe to inspire me yet.
posted by hotrod at 8:29 PM
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