Saturday, August 1, 2009

Ragbrai 2009, skate across Iowa












Biking across Iowa was added to the to-do list during my limping year, and I’ve been lazy to deal with logistics. A team spot came up for Ragbrai 2009 (ragbrai.com) through a co-worker. All I had to do was showing up with bike and sleeping bag; I jumped at the chance.

Minimum research suggested the event could be 100-mm-wheel-friendly; I decided to skate instead. I would SAG the unskateable sections and drink beers when needing a recovery day. I wasn’t sure how my body would handle multi-day efforts.

2009 route
Mileage: 52.6 miles Climb: 3,684 feet
Mileage: 72.6 miles Climb: 5,096 feet
Mileage: 77.1 miles Climb: 4,470 feet
Mileage: 44.4 miles Climb: 2,182 feet
Mileage: 76.9 miles Climb: 3,388 feet + 27 optional miles to make a century day
Mileage: 75.5 miles Climb: 2,841 feet
Mileage: 43.2 miles Climb: 1,145 feet


_Alternative vehicles
Most of the 10000 participants were on upright road bike.
There was large number of recumbents.


The youngest solo cyclists I saw was a 4-year–old who had no problem climbing.


Saw 2 unicycles. Watching these guys going down the hills was humbling.


I saw 1 guy running on day 3 at 8:30 pace at mile 50. Watching him made me want to run on next wet day.
Rumor had it a girl was running the entire route. Her sighting was not reported after day 4.


_Closet skaters and other encounters
I was disappointed that I didn’t see other skaters.
Many cyclists came up to me and shared their skate stories. Some were former roller speed skaters that quit the sport before 100 mm wheels.

One of the RV mates was Jack Sutton, who owned 3 skating rinks and had stories.

Talked Star Trek with a dancer on scholarship who found dancing career too rocky and decided to go to med school instead.

An Olympic training center resident came to me and requested double push. I hope to see him in Vancouver 2010.

Drafted behind the founder of Tour de Donut. He had to eat only 15 to win his age group.


_”Iowa is flat as pancake”
Not this year.





This hill was a female dog at end of 77.1-mile day.


_Nutrition
Speed was non-critical. I tested how random diets affect my performance. Sure enough, legs didn’t respond well after pork chops.

Daily intake included Clif bar, Clif Shot, Accelerade, Craisins, dehydrated fruits, vitamin pills.

Fast food was hard to come by on the routes. Wendy’s at end of the 104-mile was a rare treat—big calorie count for $10 + unlimited usage of flushing toilets.

Ate fried food when available. I tried to ingest 3000 calories/day for 9 days. Lost about 1 lb over all.


_Pace
Plan: take first 2 days easy to gauge how the body reacts; keep HR under 80% max.

The weather and surface were gorgeous on day 1, I went nuts chasing pace lines before a bike racer from Netherlands volunteered to tow me. We passed everybody. It was glorious.
My legs were fried after chasing Dutch; I was unable to bring HR over 85% for next 6 days.


_FAQ from cyclists
How many sets of wheels do you go through a day? (same wheels for all 7 days)
How do you go down the hills? (stay in bike’s draft)
How do you go up the hills? (I’ll race you up next one; you’ll see)
How do you stop? (grind the wheels if I can’t find a bike to help me)
Are you doing the whole thing? (so far so good)
Are you crazy? (isn’t it great?)
How much are your skates? (a lot cheaper than bikes, I paid $200 for the rec skates)
Where’s your bike? (Lance borrowed it for the tour. where are your skates?)
Isn’t that really hard? (easier than bike: no gear, no flat, no sore butt)


_Camping life of a skater
Each morning:
down a Clif bar
apply sunblock
roll the sleeping bag and thermo pad
get in queue for washroom
pack things into the big bag to put in RV
take down the wet tent.
The process always takes longer than it should.

When cell tower in sight, we often stopped to make phone calls.

Most days I made a point to spend time visiting the towns. I rarely checked the clock but tried to finish the skate at decent hour to dry the tent. On wet days, I needed to prepare bearings for next day.

Nightly ritual:
Look for team vehicles based on bulletin board direction.
Pitch tent.
Find shower.
Try to dry stuff.
Find food.
BS with some of my 10000 best friends over drinks.
Learn next day’s road and weather.
Make mostly futile attempt to talk on cell phone.
Charge electronics as opportunities arise: phone, GPS, iPod, camera
Organize nutrition and equipment for next day.
Place a Clif bar next to the pillow.


_Unpredictables
Weather:
I got wet 3 of the days and lost some bearings. Climbing up some of wet surfaces was a little challenging. I experienced doubt when having to stop at bottom of a hill in rain and considered butt stop; fortunately T stop was sufficient.

Road surface:
Decent by north Texas standard. I was rolling at 10+ mph even on the rougher sections.
Day 7 was particularly nice: a lot of black ice. With tail wind, I averaged 20+ mph with very low HR.

Draft/pacer:
Vast majority of cyclists were eager to provide draft. I went down lots of hills at 30+ mph in slipstreams. Only 1 cyclist randomly braked and left a tire mark on my right shin.
I was in the draft usually behind 1 steady bike. During a particular harsh head wind section on day 6, I hid inside of a peloton.

Rumble strips:
These things are the width of almost the entire lane. I didn’t think they’re skateable but survived rolling over them twice at 13 and 18 mph. Short legs have their advantages.


_Crashes
The first crash happened 10’ in front of the RV during a failed spin stop carrying too many things. My team was very understanding ‘til they realized I spilled the beer.

The other crash happened while racing a bike up Snake Alley (think San Francisco’s Lombard Street but with gaps between bricks). I lost that race.


Both crashes happened at < 5 mph.


_Support
A participant sacrifices a riding day to drive each team truck/bus/van to the next town with everyone’s tents and bags. Each team is allowed up to 3 motor vehicles. Many teams had buses.





_Moving cash cow
Assuming each participant spends $25 / day on food + liquid, that’s $250000 daily. The event travels through many towns with residents less than the participants. I felt like a locust moving with the swarm.


Vendors were set up at each town and between stops. Many traveled with the event through out the week.


A bottle of water went between $0.50 and $2.50, based on weather and location.


There were always lines for pork chops and smoked turkey legs.




Strategically placed ice cream trucks on a hot days were popular.
Mechanics at portable bike shops never seemed to stop working. Many cyclists bought smaller chain rings after day 1 no longer believing Iowa was flat.


The official vendors included a group of masseuse and a chiropractor.


_Missed photo ops
The tradition is to dip the rear wheel in Missouri River and front wheel in Mississippi.
To simplify the departing process, the organizer pumped Missouri water to the road on day 1.
6 days later, I handed my camera to a blond volunteer for a picture of my dipping skate wheels in Mississippi.


_#’s
Blisters: 3; 1 from rec skates, 2 from custom Simmons
Injury inducing crashes: 0
$ for food and drink: $200
Daily shower cost: $5 + $1 towel rental
Wet tents mornings: 6
Wet bearing days: 3
Bearings killed by rain: 13
Amount of time in draft: > 60%
Max speed: 42 mph
Distance skated: 470 miles









obligatory tourist shot




bike allegedly ridden by Lance




Saw a few of these on the route




Corn in the Garden




Finish line of day 1




This is how I found team vehicle.




This boy categorically denied of any girl-liking activities.




2 cyclists inquired about the bulls in question





Farming machinery for parking




Police vehicle not seen in NYC




I wasn't the only camping idiot. Dr. Jeff had to move his tent to slightly higher ground at 3am.





Random water hole at mile 30 of the easy day.




event parking




Of course.




They wouldn't let me get on it with skates.





The cyclist was a bit overwhelmed by the attention and the traffic jam she created.




View from my tent. Monday.




spectators




Smelled lots of them, but these are the only ones visible from the road.





Modern art.




Amish store




Mississippi




a cyclist modeled for my post-event recovery tenderloin




boat ramp full of dippers




end of a great week.







Thursday, April 23, 2009

Texas Road Rash 2009

Texas Road Rash 2009

_Plan A: 200-mile Roll
Danny Dannels asked if I wanted to skate from Dallas to the start. All I had to do was show up and skate, assuming decent weather. I had the option to jump into the SAG wagon with the first drop of rain. Sounded like fun.

_Change of Plan
Couple months later, Danny’s more concrete plan involves a rain-or-shine Guinness world record. He’d enter the event as drafting if I committed. Rough road, rain, darkness—I handle up to 2 of these 3 conditions. I backed out.
The weather didn’t cooperate. Danny had to skating between storms and was behind schedule. Everyone was relieved when he finally showed up Sunday morning.

_Saturday. Elimination
The new and smaller course this year. I enviously watched the turn-enabled competitors while I struggled to regain momentum after each corner. I was pulled off the course before the final lap. It was cool watching the heart rate spike on HRM.

For pro women, Candy took Renee at the line.


Morgan won master. Alex Fedak took third.


Rob Bell forgot the last-wheel rule and became the first pro skater pulled off the course.
It was exciting to see the winning monster hawks by the young faces.


_Prerace Jitter
Timo was concerned about keeping up with the big boys. Duane convinced him of its unlikelihood over red wine and Italian dishes. I was relaxed, fat, and happy. My only goal was to finish safely.

Met Houston Bill again. He’s taller than I remembered from 2007 Houston. I need bigger wheels.

Alex thought about hitting the weight room before next day's marathon.


_Sunday. Main Event (what happens when an advanced man tries to race with the masters)
I changed my division from open to pro master when I learned of the wave start.
I don’t belong in this even on my best day, but it’d be a new experience; I had no personal ambition and had little to lose. I asked Duane, who started 3 minutes behind pro wave, to be ready to pick me up.

I started at the back of wave, which quickly stretched into little clusters. I had to choose between the pro women and Bob Clair. No-brainer based on front surface area. The women pulled away, including Bont’s almost-matching demo boots. Bob proved his beating me at A2A was no accident. He skated off my wheels after I reached max heart rate. I hanged with next pack in red zone. I tried to fulfill the 1-pull-minimum obligation before dropping out. The guy behind me wasn’t happy with the speed. “Do you have some issue?” “Nope. Just not that strong.”

I waited for the open division. I jumped into the lead pack and recovered.
We worked well for couple laps. It was uneventful except one badly timed attack that everyone ignored.

_Man of the hour
We were briefly confused by the flashing motorcycle. Jorge Botero passed us all by himself. It’s one of those humbling moments everyone stops talking and reflects.

In the midst of excitement, I didn’t notice the feared wind.

_Missed photo op
I started to fade at end of the 4th lap and decided to take my final pull into the start area hoping for a good race photo. Pro lead pack lapped us where the cameras were. Sigh.

The 2 packs merged. I didn’t like the slinky and knew Duane and Casey weren’t that far back. I waited for my teammates. I hadn’t had a good skate with Duane in ages. 3 of us caught the group broken by the lead pro paceline. Casey looked strong. We urged him to bridge. Casey stayed in that paceline and won the sprint.

Timo had a good race and established himself as pro master speed skater.
He was behind famed Debbie Rice and narrowly avoided the crash that took her down.
Debbie won the race with a broken arm.
Alex (the abs) and Rob (carbon wedding band) continued to represent Simmons well.
Duane and Casey both won their age groups.

_Post Race
A much faster guy came and patted my back for my weak early pull. Such gracious gesture. He didn’t point out I actually slowed the group down.

It was unadapted to the 3x110 + 100. Need bigger legs, or at least better timing.

Spent a pleasant afternoon at Lake Austin: good coffee, great company. Ate a big dinner with friends before the 3-hour drive back home. Another good year at TRR.

Woke up Monday morning with elevated waking heart rate and sore body. It felt good.

Saturday, December 13, 2008

Huntsville 50-mile Trail Run. 12/6/2008. DNF

My wheel season ended in fall. I squeezed in the December “D” race as annual run fitness indicator; the long-term goal is Badwater in 2015. Huntsville 50k trail run is a low-cost way to taste trail ultra.

_Bigger Bite than I could Chew
I changed the distance when writing the registration check. 50-mile and 50k were the same price. 50-mile is a 4-lap event. I could bail at 12.5-mile increment without having to call a cab. President Bush taught me the importance of exit strategies.

At packet pick up, it was easy to differentiate between the “slightly ultra” vs. the “almost double” runners. The 50-milers radiate special vibe. I realized I could be in over my head this time. I stuck with the distance: this was a learning experience; finding out the breaking point was more valuable than getting a finisher’s jacket. I re-promised myself: no crazy chances; quitting is an option.

_Technology Conspiracy
Google Map betrayed. The hotel was nowhere near the dot on the satellite map.

I decided not to bother with HRM due to lack of sweat at low temperature.

I left the GPS in the car overnight; the battery drained within minutes of powering up. The manual weren’t kidding about the unit’s operating temperature.

The iPod headphone developed contact issue at the start.

_Pace Planning
Plan A:
Walk at 15:00/mile pace the first lap then decide what to do for the other 3 laps. Shoot for 11-hour finish. Foot pain scrapped this idea after multiple walk trials.

Plan B:
Hold 12:00 pace. 1 hr cushion for breaks and walks. Researches on trail running showed that constant pace was unrealistic.

Plan C:
10 min (20:00 pace) walk + 20 min (11:00 pace) run the first 2 laps (5:30). This plan relied on a working GPS.

Impromptu Human Pacer
I walked to back of the 182-runner start and shamelessly asked for everyone’s marathon time and projected 50-mile time. I settled on Sharon’s 3:50 marathon time and 10 hr projected time and asked her to be my pacer.

_The Course
First 1/3 of the 12.5-mile course included a long section of soft-pack dirt with turnaround at top of the hill. Energy bled with each step, but I felt good about my chance to finish. Next 1/3 had everything: dirt packed hard by motored vehicle, gravels, and narrow path, lots of elevation changes. Last 3rd was mostly dirt trails with obstacles: tree roots, debris, and branches.

_The Long Run
I started out chatting with Sharon side by side. Like many runners that morning, she’s from Colorado; running was center of her daily life. Soon I ran behind her when trail narrowed. There were some branches in the way. She went around them while I jumped over. Our feet collided in mid air; we both fail. Not a good start. Following so close was a rookie mistake.

We saw the leaders coming down the soft pack dirt with urgency of someone in need of bathroom. They reminded me of characters in Japanese samurai films. I wondered how they could sustain the effort for another 45 miles.

Sharon asked me if I was eating. “A little.” “Area you drinking?” “Couple oz per rest stop.” “You need to eat and drink!” She seemed horrified. I explained I needed little fluid at the temperature and little carbohydrate at the heart rate. Wasn’t a convincing argument with a dead GPS and no HRM. “Energy and cardio aren’t my problem. I’m not much of a runner. I'm a speed skater.” She looked puzzled. “I'm like Apolo Ohno, minus the talent and sex appeal.” That she understood but was skeptical as I ran noisily kicking branches and roots.

I had a tough time with road surface and kept rolling the ankle. Downhill was toughest. Breaking took a lot out of my shins. I was untrained for this. I started walking and wait for a slower pacer. I finished the first 12.5-mile loop in 2:35, a reasonable start.

Lap 2 was similar. I was overly optimistic on soft-pack dirt then lost confidence tripping over stuff during the landmine sections. The theoretical 20-mile wall went by unnoticed while I focused on my footing. Lap time = 2:45.

Lap 3. Fatigue set in. It felt like last miles of a marathon except I had 20 miles to go. I walked the soft-pack dirt hill thinking all was lost. I caught one of the samurais who lapped me earlier. The guy wore #1 and looked spent. "This is hard," I whined. "It's supposed to be hard." The 2005 winner smiled as he hobbled away.

_Swallow a DNF
3 miles before the 3rd lap finish. Of the 50-milers around me, making the 8.5-hour cutoff became the focal point of our lives. We had 29 minutes.

I weighed my options: my weakened quads should have enough for 15.5 miles. I felt shin splint developing but could ignore it. I was still tripping over debris, rocks, branches, and roots. Could I handle this section in the dark? The goal was getting one step closer to Badwater. Running on uneven surface half blind wasn’t part of the deal. This wasn’t worth the wrist injury.

The fight went out of me at the moment of the decision. All the sudden I couldn’t handle 20:00 pace. Runners passing me both directions urge me to beat the clock. I thanked and congratulated them. I took off my headphone and heard the silence and appreciated the woods for the first time. I was so lucky to be here.

_Post Race
2 chocolate shakes, 3 hotdogs, 1 cheeseburger, and a grill chicken breast later, long drive home. The gravity of my race started to sink in. My longest run to date on a certified course on surface I supposedly couldn’t handle. Shin splint and sore quads. I got away with another one.

Monday. The chiropractor assessed the damage and suggested taping for my next trail run. I was surprised how well my lower back held up. “Don’t question it,” he recommended while cracking my neck. I had little negative thoughts about my body at that moment. The glorious sushi buffet from previous night was a great way to start my 2.75-month off-season. No weight watching, no races, no scheduled trainings. My near future will be full of fun workouts, tasty food, and couch potatoing.

I can’t wait for 2009 season.

Saturday, October 4, 2008

A2A 55-mile -- Sunday morning fun skate went out of control

The Texas Flyers had planned to send a team to 2005 A2A [which was canceled that year --roadskater]. I wanted to participate in the worst way. I was too weak to skate at the time and started to ask skaters to go to A2A. “Don’t wait ‘til you’re ready. Go while the event exists.”
2008
I wasn’t recovered from Montreal. A2A was still the one event I wanted to support, and it lacked bodies. I signed up for 52-mile race that I never skated. It’d be a fun skate. I’d skate Silver Hill again!
8 days before A2A I narrowly avoided a bike crash at a cycling time trial. I came in near last after getting lost on the simple loop course. The goals for 2008 A2A:
  1. no crash
  2. stay on course
Favorites
52-mile skaters seemed relaxed before the start. All eyes were on Herb Gayle. Herb kept whining about weight and climbs.
Bob Clare from Virginia asked me about Texas Flyers and talked about the year Mike Harris won 38. I wasn’t aware there was a following on short distances. Bob was determined to do well this year. I vaguely recall he skated away from me at last mile of 2007 38-mile race.
Team Red Confusion from Birmingham was well represented. The young guns seemed fast. The question was whether they could stay fast for 3 hours. Most of them looked light and immune to gravity.
Several APRR skin suits were in the mix. Rumor had it a Chuck had his eyes on the 52-mile trophy. They all looked like Chucks at the start. Knowing the route was a huge advantage.
Inexact Start
The little lead motorcycle took off; one Chuck followed slowly. We had a long pace line going 11 mph for a few minutes. Next thing I knew I was in a small pack of mostly Birmingham skaters pushing each other down the hill at 29 mph. Not what I had in mind but had go with the flow. My strategy was to stay close to lead motorcycle so I wouldn’t skate off the course. I’d back off where 52 and 87-mile courses merged.
Shortly after the loop, the lead vehicle stopped to block traffic. I followed the 3 lead guys into the wrong turn. We ran on grass and dirt while their teammates waited. I was determined not to skate off the course again.
Cat-1 Racer
Herb showed up. He was re-lacing when the race started unexpectedly. He kept pushing the pace. My heart rate hovered around 91%. Eric Gee warned me about this. I decided to hang on ‘til my legs fail. I heard so much about Herb’s superpower I wanted to see it first-hand. My HRM started to beep 56 minutes into the race. The alarm was set at 95% max.
Herb started to gap the pack on the false flats. I struggled to match cadence in his slipstream. GPS said 31 mph. Bob patiently sat in the peloton. I didn’t have to hammer, but going fast was so much fun. I decided to stay with Herb ‘til my legs quit. This is probably the only race I could hang with racers of Herb’s caliber. I didn’t care if I bonked but wished I had lost a few lbs for this day. I let the pack go when my HR crossed 95% for the 3rd time. We hit an unmanned red light. I stayed behind Bob after the unscheduled stop.
20-Minute Detour
2 hours into the race, the lead pack dwindled. After a left turn, the painted arrows stopped showing up on the course. Advancing at 0 mph, we spoke of the unthinkable: “are we lost?” The pack included no females; hence were unable to ask for directions. Someone decided to stay the course, counting on the organizer’s failing to mark that intersection. I stopped following the pack. My legs felt like jello and were unlikely to stay with leaders. I skated back toward the turn: if I saw the chase pack coming toward me, I’d join; if Herb and company went the wrong way, I had gained distance on them.
Lead pack U-turned. The detour cost 3 miles. Herb radiated frustration waiting for the red light while Bob’s anger propelled him up the road alone. I was a little depressed how quickly they caught me. I soon redlined but the legs miraculously tapped out Herb’s pace. The Red Confusion dudes looked dead tired by now. I yelled at them, “Stick together. No one gets away before Silver Hill.” I felt like coach Mike.
I also felt discouraged. There was unknown number of competitors in front with possibly 15-minute lead. Herb had twice my talent and stroke length. Bob was out of sight.
I had forgotten about the relaxing Sunday morning fun skate.
42.3 mph
We finally reached the long ass downhill. I grabbed the 2nd spot to minimize the number of skaters I had to trust. My right foot speed-wobbled all the way. What a rush! It’s hard to believe Nicolas Ratthe, the backward skater, only crashed once.
2nd Half
Inevitably, Herb attacked. I told the young skater in front, “It’s up to you. We have the number.” He lacked will. I took over. I kept the gap constant. Let the big boy spend the energy skating alone on those big wheels; downhill momentum was on my side. Pretty soon my pack was down to 2. I didn’t bother to ask my shadow to pull; I just needed downhill weight. Plenty of climbs left. It pays to be the skinny Asian when it comes to hotdog eating and A2A. For miles, I watched in awe as Herb dragged his Greek God-like physique up each hill using unnaturally long strokes, never faltered.
Herb finally slowed. My heart rate dropped enough to consume the overdue gel. I bridged. No one followed. Herb and I started to work together. Bob was nowhere in sight. We didn’t know how many directionally gifted were still ahead. I ran out of hills to threaten Herb. All he had to do was pick a straight stretch to drop me. I worked with him anyway. I could use extra cushion to hold off my chasers. We could still catch Bob.
Easily Lost Strong Man
Bob caught up from behind. “I went the wrong way.” Curselessly, he flew away fueled by fury. He was 30 meters ahead. Herb chased. I shifted gear. My right quads cramped. The body finally reached its limit. It was exhilarating while it lasted. “Thank you, legs.”
I wished I were stronger.
10 miles to go, mostly rough flat road. I concentrated on not getting lost.
Free Ride
An APRR skin suit showed up with 6 miles to go.
“Do you know the route?”
“Yeah.”
“Good! I don’t know where I’m going.”
The Chuck had great form and was easy to follow. He demonstrated Southern hospitality by leading the whole way. He surged repeatedly when pavement turned smooth. It didn’t occur to me he was trying to drop me. Piedmont Park. I was confident in my sprint after the long rest but decided to let chuck cross first. It seemed right. I started moving out of his draft. A small dog moved in front of Chuck. Chuck went down avoiding the canine. I narrowly escaped and crossed the finish alone. The mutt walked away tail-high, oblivious to the near collision.
Redemption
I was surprised to find Bob, Herb, and I reclaimed the 52-mile race lead. Bob pulled Herb for miles and asked Herb not to sprint, “Herb, don’t be a donkey. Let me have this.” (Inexact quote!)
Bob finally got his A2A title.
In 2007, 3 of us finished 5th ~ 7th behind 4 young skaters at 38-miles.
The 38-mile title was more achievable this year. But I wouldn’t trade the lead pack experience for the 38-mile win.
I ended my season directionally challenged, but it gave me small satisfaction that...
  1. My skate was shorter than Herb’s 56 and Bob’s 57 miles.
  2. The big boys of 87-mile race also got lost at a different intersection. One guy actually got on 4-lane highway.

In medical tent Chuck complemented on how tough I hanged. I finally understood the surges.
The Real Race
Peter Starykowicz from Chicago won the 87-mile race, followed by Luis Carlos Mejia who looked fast even sitting down. Eddy Matzger claimed 3rd with big smile. I asked Eddy,
“How do you recover from NY100k last week?”
“I didn’t.”
Randy Bowman didn’t have the race he wanted. Dennis Humphrey was happy with his 5 minutes behind the winner Peter longlastname, who was less than half Dennis’ age.
Meeting my Hero
Dan Burger showed up at massage booth with big camera and hairy arms. He offered to fight me for the spot in line and shared details of his 6- and 12-hour distance record. Eddy also came to the booth. Contrary to the myth, they didn’t look like twins. When his turn came up, Eddy gave the masseuse a massage.
Friends from the Montreal race
  • Luke helped me getting out of greased skates without mom’s support.
  • Morgan talked to me about his underpush during those 2.7-mile sprints.
  • Bryan McKenney’s non-imaginary hammerhead girlfriend came to support Bryan, who was not recovered from dominating UMCA North America 12-Hour Championship 8 days ago.
  • Jessica looked as tall and fast as last time I saw her. She was so fresh that 87 miles seemed insufficient.
  • Renee showed up at awards in a skirt.
  • The German skater turned down my invitation to Cow Tippers. She alleged to be a vegetarian.
Reflection
I went back to Piedmont Park alone after dinner with Blake and NC crew. I closed my eyes and could still see the 1999 sprint finish when the skater collided into a photographer. I rearranged my life to train for the 87-mile. I made friends through the event. Thinking about skaters fighting the hills always warms my heart.
I wished A2A would prosper again.
GPS/HRM Data
  • 3:34:23
  • 55.28 miles
  • Avg speed: 15.5 mph
  • Avg HR: 89%
  • Calories: 2922
Posted Data
  • 3:34:14
  • 52 miles
  • Avg speed: 14.6 mph
On-Course Nutrition
  • 1.5 Perpetuem
  • 1 gel
  • 16 oz diluted Gatorade
  • 28 oz water