Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Hotter n Hell 2009: 102 miles; avg 20.7 mph

_Unprepared
It’s been an unfocused year with no long distance training. I considered 3 options:
> Skate 50 miles.
> Bike time trial 100k at 18 mph.
> 100 mile ride at 20+ mph.
I was unmotivated to train.
Timo announced his 25-mile skate pace line plan. I was in. It’d be fun. I was looking forward to the shopping and the group lunch.
Then yoga-related back spasm happened => skating was out of question.
I decided on the “normal way” of participating HHH: road bike, padded shorts, suck wheels. Sciatica could be an issue; sag wagons are abundant for this event.


_Equipment
I put the nice wheels on Madone that had been on trainer the whole year. I was unsuccessful setting up the new iBike Aero 3 on the wired mount and settled on the defective Aero 2 just for distance and cadence reading. I also used the reliable Garmin Forerunner 305 for heart rate and pacing.

My cycling electronic life is frustrating at times, but it’s so cool to have the data on the 22” screen after shower while the ride details are fresh memory. This is the only way I can quantify the energy saved by taking the pace line risk.


_Expo
The 10000-cyclist event is my biggest annual apparel shopping day. Major bike stores dump excess inventory at the expo.
The fight at clearance shoe table was intense. I got the exact shoes and shorts I wanted at half price. I imagine this is how women buy LV and Gucci when discount is involved.

eSoles scanned people’s feet at their booth. The charismatic sales girl knew a lot about running and nothing about skating. She fit David Goggin! $50 gets me a scan + semi-custom orthotics. I was suspicious about the benefit but desperate enough to write it off as part of my medical budget.

I complained to the Polar rep: their power meter is an outdated piece of crap. He waited for the booth to clear before agreeing. Finland’s clear direction is to ignore that market. He shared the desire for GPS/HR/power integration.


_Cooler than Hell
The ride didn’t live up to its name having the most favorable weather in years. 1 guy from Florida was sorely disappointed.

I didn’t train for a 100-mile ride but the event went more or less as planned:
Step 1: say hi to skaters at very end of the line.
Step 2: go to the front and look for triathletes for pacing and drafting.
I spotted bunch fit guys with nice aero-bikes and practice wheels.
“You guys Ironmen?”
“Yep”
“How fast are you going.”
“Around 20”
“Mind if I suck your wheel.”
“No problem.”
Step 3: control the urge to go harder; no passing anyone while outside of slipstream.
Step 4: hang on to the pack and avoid crashes.
Step 5: survive.

The slow blocks before start line are always frustrating: skateboarding style.
After funneling through the start line, 40 miles of wheel sucking began. These guys train together year round and didn’t want me in front.
Mile 20: butt became uncomfortable on the rough surface. Everyone’s speed dropped. I recall sprinting this surface at 11 mph on skates at 90% HR. I was nuts.

The group stopped at mile 28 for a pee break. We spread out to spread while hundreds of cyclists rolled behind us. It’s great to be a guy.

Heart rate started to rise around mile 35. I thought it was the temperature. The Ironmen increased the wattage in anticipation for the long break at mile-40 rest stop.

I hid in a long and slower pace lines and recovered. Other than the well buttered butt, I felt great at mile 50 and considered dumping 10 oz of Accelerade. I correctly chose to carry the annoying disposable bottle for next few miles.

People dropped out of pace lines like flies. By mile 60, even the solo cyclists on aero bars became inconsistent. I got in a small pace line and finally had to work. Confidence soared by mile 80: legs turning, HR in range, 24 oz of fluid in cage. I debated about the beer stop at mile 98.

Mile 82: Quads became unwilling at each little climbs. This was initially resolved by smaller gears. I started to lose the pack at 103 rpm. One old guy repeatedly waited and paced me back into the pack. “Just 18 miles to go. You ain’t gonna get a better day for a personal record.”
I was touched.
I struggled.

Mile 88: melt down. I tried to take a final pull but couldn’t even get to the front.
I felt dejected yet proud for going this far--a lot like 2008 A2A when Herb Gail left me in the dust.
I limped to the mostly empty mile-91 rest stop for bathroom and annual pickle juice tasting.

Leg power returned only briefly. I rode many segments at 13 mph during the final 10 miles. I skated faster on the same road.

Finished with 4:54. Felt a lot longer.