Well, I said I’d be writing the occasional blog entry over the summer and I guess I occasional was the operative word.
I’ve been riding to my new summer job at Park Shore Day Camp in Dix Hills, and the people there have been really great about it. Excited and supportive, even though they probably think I’m a little bit crazy when I roll in the front gate with my tights and jersey on. Oh, well.
It’s been good, though, because I needed to get myself into shape for the Huntington Bicycle Club’s annual 100 mile Gold Coast Ride. It’d be the furthest distance I’d ever ridden to date.
Steve was planning on doing the 70 mile ride, and I was excited to have company since most of my riding is done alone and I haven’t been able to go on as many club rides as I’d hoped.
I was a bit nervous because I’ve been getting this “clicking” sound coming from my bottom bracket/crankset area and I wasn’t sure what was going on. I dropped by Adams Cyclery on Friday and he told me that if I could leave it he’d get it back to me in time for the ride. Since I was riding at the time, I sprinted home, changed and loaded the bike in the car to get it over to Darren. They delivered as promised and by Saturday afternoon it was ready to go.
I laid out all my materials and did a once over on the bike last night so I was certain everything worked right. I have to say I’m still not completely dialed in on the new Black Betty, but I’m getting closer. It was another reason I was a bit nervous. Also, I wasn’t sure my body was ready for such a long ride on a bike that only has about 200 miles on it.
Today dawned with a temperature of 68 degrees and it looked to be perfect. I took all the precautions I usually don’t take with the club rides - I ate breakfast, didn’t drink too much coffee, and stretched.
So I get to the sign in and I’m looking around at all these hard core bikers - some on teams, some on $6,000 road bikes, some on time-trial bikes (wasn’t sure about that one), and then others on hybrids and mountain bikes - okay, so they weren’t so hard-core. I was getting even more nervous until I realized it was just going to be me and Steve and whoever we were able to hook up with.
I registered and went back to my car to put away my t-shirt and get Betty ready, hoping I’d see Steve. Instead I saw a couple of guys from the city who said they were going to be doing their first century, and to be honest I thought to myself that I could take those guys. They had really fancy, expensive Canondale and Specialized road bikes, but they didn’t look to be in the best of shape.
I just kept stretching and getting Betty ready to go, and then I rode over to the registration hoping that I’d find Steve and then we’d be off. We’d mentioned leaving at 7:30 and I was early, so I figured I’d just wait for him and maybe I’d get to see my friend Karen at the same time.
Then I saw Steve. He was wearing a Huntington Bicycle Club jersey and regular walking shorts and shoes. What the ????? So I asked him where his bike was. He replied, “didn’t you get my message?” and I said, “Yes, didn’t you get mine?” He said no and that since he hadn’t heard from me he’d assumed I wasn’t going to make it so he decided to volunteer to work the ride instead.
Aaaaaaaggggggghhhhhhh!
He was my big hope to have someone fun to ride with. Now I wasn’t sure what I was going to do.
When I mentioned I might try the Century, he called a friend of his who was supposed to be on her way and was planning to do it. Maybe she and I could ride together. But she said she wasn’t going to be there for another 45 minutes. Hey, that’s at least 15 miles. I couldn’t wait so I headed out - still debating whether I was going to stick to 70 miles or go for the whole shebang!
The ride itself was incredible! Everywhere I turned or rode I saw another cyclist on the way. I’m so used to doing my commute early in the morning, and it’s rare if I see anyone else. If I do it’s either going up Stilwell or on the other side of the road heading in the other direction. Sometimes they wave back at me. Most times they don’t. It makes me a little sad. I figure that no matter how “serious” we are about our workout/ride we should acknowledge the fact that others are joining us.
Anyway - back to the ride …
At various times I was able to ride with someone or other that I either fell in behind or who fell in behind me. I’d pull a while or they’d pull a while, but we just kept going. Sometimes people would pass me and many times (at least at the beginning) I passed others. I even stopped twice to help other cyclists in trouble, and I have to admit I was surprised no one else did.
The big high came after the second snack break.
As I was refilling my Gatorade and eating my second orange, I noticed a group of riders wearing the same jersey getting ready to roll out. They were members of a bike club sponsored by one of the larger bike shops out east. I figured, what the heck it could be fun, so I latched on. The next thing I knew I was in the midst of my very first bona fide peloton!
Wow! I mean, I’ve been riding somewhat seriously and over the last year I’ve probably logged about 3,000 miles, but this was the first time I’d ever ridden in the middle of a pack of 20+ riders! What a rush! To be honest, I’m not even sure where I was when I connected with them, I think it was Oyster Bay. However, I used all the information I’d learned from my various readings of Bicycle Magazine and I stayed in the pack, I drafted (watching the hips of the rider in front - not his wheel), I powered forward on the climbs to stay in the middle of the pack at the apex, and when I looked down I realized that I was going 26 miles an hour and we’d covered ten miles!
This was Nirvana - I was in cycling heaven. Betty was handling really well, my new wireless cyclocomputer was working flawlessly and I was in the middle of a peloton!
However, as with all good things, this too had to end.
On a long climb leading into Sea Cliff the mighty cycling machine started to spit parts out the back and I was one of them. I didn’t care - I’d ridden in a pace line at 26 miles an hour for twelve miles and I was having a blast.
At this point it started to get a bit hairy.
There was a lot of crosswind and I went through a long flat that gave me nothing but wind right across my broadside. At that moment I wasn’t too sure if I was going to make the 70 mile course, much less anything more. But if I’m anything, I’m stubborn.
I made it to the third rest stop at the 42 mile mark and I felt a bit tight in my chest. Apparently there was some kind of crazy heat index of 100+ degrees going on and there were all kinds of particles in the air as a result. It all combined to cause my asthma to flare up. But I rehydrated, ate some fruit and an energy bar, availed myself of the bike mechanic who was doing some tune-ups (turns out my headset had worked itself a little bit loose so he added another spacer and tightened it all up), and headed back out on the road.
At the exit there were two signs, one pointing the way for the 70 mile route and the other to the 100 mile route - I took the latter, call me crazy I guess.
You know, it was hard but I had a great time!
It took me on another 25 mile or so loop, and about halfway through I hooked up with another cyclist and we took turns pulling for each other. He was more experienced than me, but I found I was able to keep up with him - boy was I proud of myself. As we got close to returning to the park after the loop we got a bit lost and as we were crossing a busy intersection he had a problem clipping in and fell. He made it back to the park, but had busted his hand up some in the fall. So he had to call and get someone to pick him up, and once again I was on my own.
I was feeling tight in the chest again and I had used my emergency inhaler once again - darn good thing they weren’t testing for steroids! I rehydrated, refueled and got back on the road, this time at the park exit I took the left turn to get me heading towards home.
At this point I was at 62 miles and I felt pretty good except for that tightness in my chest every time I tried to take a really deep breath.
After about five miles or so I hooked up with another rider who’d had some people bail out on him and was also trying to do the Century but was just pushing along. So we decided to push on together, again each of us taking turns pulling as the temperature continued to get hotter.
We hit the last rest stop at the 82 mile mark and we both discussed if we were going to take the 8 mile route straight home or the 18 mile longer loop around. At this point I couldn’t breathe deeply without wheezing - and this was after two hits of my inhaler - so I decided to err on the side of health. Mike opted to pack it in too and we headed back to the finish.
Of course, the competitive “gene” got the better of me about two miles from the finish when we were passed by a guy sprinting towards the end. For some reason my legs suddenly felt much fresher so I decided to give chase and I caught him, drafting a bit and then passing him right before the turn in to the finish. I glanced down at my cyclometer and saw that I was pushing 21 mph - sorry I don’t have a power monitor so I can’t tell you how many watts I was pushing - but I felt great that after 90 miles I was able to do that! It made me wonder what if …
Next time I’ll train a little more and I can’t wait to finish my first Century … for real.
Stay well and I'll see you on the road!
