My First Century

Shut up legs. Do what I tell you to do.
- Jens Voigt

The day before My First Century, I took a 30 minute ride around the neighborhood.  I had been cutting back my miles all week and I just wanted to get loose and get out some prerace jitters.  I spent a lot of time stretching the night before and my legs were fresh.  The hardest part was trying to maintain a relaxed pace.  My legs just kept saying “Go, Go, Go.” 

I had planned to spend the rest of the afternoon packing and preparing to head to Hershey where I was spending the night at my sister’s.   I pumped my tires and oiled my chain.  I took what I thought was one last spin around the block, just to make sure everything was working properly.  That’s when things started going wrong.  I never oiled my chain before…I know, I know.  You don’t start making changes to your bike or your routine right before a big race.  Lesson learned.  Rather than gliding into gear, my chain was hopping.  I took it home and started a detail cleaning of my chain.  My hands were shaking, I started to sweat.  I thought my entire journey was going to come to an end because I decided to get cute.  After a couple of hours, countless trips up and down my street, a few Youtube videos and one old T-shirt later, I finally got the bike rideable. 

I never like that shirt anyway

If that wasn’t enough, while I was making sure I had everything I needed, from water bottles to sunscreen, I noticed that my Garmin GPS would not power on.  My first thought was, “this is going to cost me a pretty penny.”  Thanks to the intraweb, I was able to find a quick solution (just hold 3 of the buttons in until it resets).  I finally loaded the bike and the rest of my gear into the jeep and hit the road.

That night I went out to dinner with my sister’s family and fueled up on my favorite food, D.A.’s pizza.  I debated having a couple of beers to settle my nerves and help me get to sleep.  I cut out beer and caffeine all week long and foolishly stuck with that plan.  I went to bed at 10:00, but didn’t go to sleep.  Nature called around midnight.  For some odd reason at 2 a.m., I was up reading text messages and checking sports scores.  At 4:55 a.m. I was able to shut down my five o’clock alarm without it going off. 

Before I get into my day, I would be remiss if I did not pay tribute to the race itself and all the other riders.  I am proud of my accomplishments, but I learned early and often that there was something bigger than my journey on the road that day.  The race itself was to raise funds for the Children's Miracle Network at Penn State Hershey Children's Hospital.  Children's Miracle Network funding enhances the ability of the Penn State Hershey Children’s Hospital to provide top-notch pediatric healthcare for the sick and injured children of Central Pennsylvania.

  

Even more amazing than the race were the participants from all over the country.  Everyone was there for their own reasons and their own causes.  I learned about the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society and their Team in Training program.  This is the largest sports training program in the world.  It provides coaching and training in return for its members helping to raise money for blood cancers.  There were groups from Texas, D.C. and Boston (just to name a few).  It was a humbling experience right from the start as I passed rider after rider with some form of:  In Memory of…hand written on their jerseys.  I had the pleasure of meeting and riding with a few people whose stories easily eclipsed my own. 

I spent most of my day with a gentleman named Joe.  I’ll speak more about Joe later, but he was riding for his brother who had passed away from lymphoma at the age of 41. 

At one rest stop I met a man who was riding his 4^th century, but the first one since he had recovered from heart surgery. 

I also met Bill during the race.  Bill had planned to ride his first century on his 50^th birthday.  After which, his wife had a huge party planned with all of his friends and family.  That morning, Bill received a call from his doctor with his MRI results and was told that he had cancer.  Bill later regretted that he cancelled both his ride and his party but vowed not to let cancer take anything else away from him.  Five years later, Bill is cancer free and it was an honor and a privilege to spend a few miles with him as he finally got to ride in his first century.

  

I can not come up with an appropriate segue, so I decided on this.

.

What the what?

With only a few hours of sleep, I dragged myself from bed and got dressed while my bagels were toasting.  I ate one and took one for the road.  It was still dark as I loaded up my bike and headed off to Hersheypark stadium.  I got checked in early, ate my second bagel and tried to relax with some tunes.

Me and my bagel

The rolling start began at 7:00 a.m.  As planned, I let the first wave of riders head out. 

I assumed that the first group would end up being the largest.  Also anyone that was “racing” or riding for speed would want to get an early jump on the field.  I certainly did not want to lead the pack, so I waited until 7:15 to start My First Century.

And they're off!

After 14 weeks of training and over 1,500 miles, it was finally time.  I reminded myself that it was a ride and not a race.  I deliberately went out slow and enjoyed the first few miles which went right through Hersheypark. 

All smiles

As I exited the park, I was grouped with a pack of riders as we waited on traffic.  I stayed in the back just following the flow to ensure I didn’t push too hard too soon.  At about mile four I checked my cue sheet which said we were supposed to be on Chocolate Avenue.  Since I grew up in Hershey, I knew for a fact that we were no where near Chocolate Avenue.  We missed the second turn out of the park and rode a mile and a half in the wrong direction.  I quickly learned about road markers, what they looked like and where they were placed.  That was a mistake I certainly could not afford to make again.   Even though I added three extra miles to my day, it turned out to be a wonderful distraction.  For every turn on the cue sheet, I had to figure out the math by subtracting 2.9 miles from my Garmin distance to figure out how far I had to go.  “First rest stop at 20.7, well then I need to get to 23.6 on the Garmin.” It may not sound like much, but I was making those simple calculations once every few minutes for nearly seven hours.

The route took me close to my sister and brother-in-law’s house.  They came out to cheer me on and take some pictures at mile 11.2 (per the cue sheet or 14.1 on my Garmin).  I’m sure they assumed something had happened since with the extra distance, I was running about 15 minutes behind schedule. So far, the ride was easy and I was feeling great, but I was also heading towards the first big challenge of the day.

Hey, I know you.

It wasn’t the steepest or the biggest hill I had ever been on, but then again, I never had to do another 80 miles after any of those other hills.  After I lost my initial momentum I was taking it very slow, too slow.  It was not the pace I wanted, but the road was crowded and I was still a little uneasy about passing especially with some of the novice riders having difficulty maintaining their lines.  As my legs began to burn, I said to hell with it and really started pushing and passing.  On a hill that was about a mile long and two hundred feet up, I passed a least a dozen riders and that’s not counting the handful of people that were walking their bikes, the guy who appeared to have wrecked and the two guys tending to him.  Keep in mind, the shorter loops were still sharing the same course; so many of these riders were not as well trained as the century riders. I stood up on my bike and glided at the top of the hill just to catch my breath and stretch out my legs.  As I cruised down the other side, I had a new found confidence.  I was feeling strong and if I was going to have any issues with my chain, it would have been on that hill.  I over heard a guy say that it was the second biggest hill of the course.  I wasn’t quite sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but at least that hill was behind me.  If I took anything away from this, it was that all the hills I complained about this summer were really starting to pay off.

For the record, other than the guy on the hill (partly because I was sucking wind and partly because he already had help), I checked with every rider who was stopped along the route.  I’d say there were about 10.  Fortunately no one needed my assistance so I always kept riding.

I made it to the first rest stop in one piece. 

I initially planned for my first break to last about 5 minutes.  I believe the stop lasted 10.  There were lines for water and lines for the porta-potties.  I certainly was not in a hurry after that hill.  The first twenty miles were a bit of a blur so I took my time, relaxed and enjoyed the moment.  I sent a couple of text messages and updated the Facebook for a few people that were following along at home.

The next leg was pretty short, just 13 miles.  Traffic was thinning out as the shorter courses (17 & 33) began turning back.  I was finding my groove and my space on the road.  At the second stop, I again took a longer break.  I changed my game plan a little and decided to take advantage of my time off the bike.  I had 23 miles until the third stop and so I wanted to make sure I was fueled up and fully stocked.

I found myself in a pretty decent gap; exactly where I wanted to be.  Close enough to see the group in front of me on the longer stretches.  In the distance, I noticed someone slowly gaining ground on me.  It was around mile 40 (I can’t recall if it was 40 Garmin or 40 cue sheet).  I was completely expecting to be passed, but this guy just sat on my back wheel…for the next 15 miles.  I was able to pull away once.  I cleared an intersection and he got held up.  But less than half a mile later, there he was.  I was a little irritated at first.  He was obviously faster than me.  Why didn’t he just pass? 

When we reached the third rest stop (which was a little more than half way), I officially met Joe.  He approached me and said he liked my pace and asked if I minded him riding with me.  I was not excited about the idea, but I wasn’t going to say no.  I decided that if he wanted to tag along, that was fine, but I was not going to change my pace.  If I needed to be slow, I was going to be slow.  If I wanted to push, I was going to push.  After a 10 minute break and two delicious Smucker’s Uncrustables later, we pushed off together.  And for the next 14 miles, Joe and I owned the road. 

Yummy

There’s a point where you’re not sure if you are going to make it.  The doubt sets in.  For me it was around mile 70 (mile 67 cue sheet).  The hills were taking a toll.  My legs began to feel like rubber.  I creeped into the fourth rest stop happy to get off the bike.  I tried to cut Joe loose.  I explained to him that I had no idea if I had anything left in my legs for the hills that were coming up and if he wanted to take off without me, I would not hold it against him.  He looked at me and said, “You’re doing a hundred mile bike ride, how did you think your legs would feel?  Let’s get out there and see what happens.”  It was at that moment when I first realized how glad I was to have Joe around.

As we approached the hardest part of the course with multiple climbs, I tried my best to power through.  It would have been easy to stop and take a break between hills, but I did not want to let Joe down.  I wasn’t just happy to have Joe around, at this point I think I needed him right there; pushing me; keeping me focused; encouraging me to press on.  We hit the biggest hill and I put my head down and tried not to look up until we reached the top.  We continued to pass riders at a steady clip. I was on a mission and Joe was my wingman. 

On one of the flats between climbs, we were passed by an older gentleman who looked as if he’d been riding since before I was born.  It was the first time that I had been passed since before Joe and I hooked up.  Early on I had been passed by a dozen or so riders who were flying past everyone.  I had no way to know if they were doing the century or possibly one of the shorter loops.  I was also passed by a couple of groups that I assumed were on some type of “team” or part of a cycling club.  But that was 40 plus miles ago.  I started to realize that I was one of the fastest guys on the road (at least in my small section of the course).  Perhaps Joe was not just being nice, but maybe, unlike me, he had a hard time riding alone.  Maybe he hooked up with me, because I was the only one on the road that could pace him close to the speed he wanted.  I know he said he was worried about missing the turns and his cue sheet was a balled up mess.  Perhaps Joe needed me just as much as I needed him.  In hindsight, that probably was not the case, but I used it.  I used anything if it was going to help me get over those hills. 

At the final rest stop, Joe got off his bike and just started laughing.  “For someone who didn’t have anything left for the hills, you sure didn’t waste any time passing everyone.”  I explained that it hurt too much to take the hills slow.  I needed to up my pace and keep the momentum.  I was feeling great at this point of the race (mentally, not physically).  As far as I knew, the worst of the hills were behind us.  Only 17 miles to go.  It was just like any other 17 mile ride that I took this summer.  I was home free.

We made a right out of the rest stop and then a quick left onto… SON OF A BITCH, another hill.  It wasn’t the steepest hill; but it was the worst hill on the course that day.  Not because my legs felt like they weighed a million pounds or the pain that was coming from the back of my knees.  It wasn’t that I had been sitting on my bike for 85 miles and nearly 6 hours.  I’m sorry, that’s exactly what made it the worst hill on the course.  That and the proverbial kick to the gut I felt when I rounded that corner.  It was at this point that I just wanted to be done.  We started our climb and slowly caught another rider.  For the first time all day, I didn’t feel like passing.  I’m not sure my legs would have responded even if I had tried.  I did not know what Joe was thinking, and frankly I did not care.  I decided to sit on this guys back wheel and let him pull me up the next two miles.

Reaching the summit top of the hill was a glorious moment.  The next six miles were mostly flat or down hill.  It would have been a really fun and fast ride with fresh legs, but we coasted as much as possible, trying to give ourselves a break before the homestretch.  With less than 10 miles to go, I was happy with a slow and steady pace to finish up the ride.

At mile 93 (96 Garmin), Joe was gone.  We came to an intersection and got grouped up with about a dozen other riders.  When the light changed, Joe ended up out in front and I got caught in the back of the pack.  I really did not have anything left to push my way through, so I just sat on the pace.  Slowly the group got spread out and Joe, with a few other riders, began to pull away.  I thought to myself, would I ever see Joe again?  Was he even real?  Maybe Joe was never there, just a figment of my imagination.  Maybe he was my alter ego I used to push myself when things got tough.  Perhaps he was sent from the heavens to look over….oh wait.  I got a picture of Joe.  He was definitely real.

BFFs or maybe for just a few hours

I actually caught back up with Joe thanks to a few well timed stop lights.  We came in through Hershey together along with another group of riders we picked up.  It was pretty surreal.  I had ridden those roads a hundred times as a kid.  I ran many of those same roads in cross country.  I counted down the miles, now oblivious to the pain.  My speed didn’t matter.  My form didn’t matter.  I was just trying to push through the last five miles; the last four miles.  I hit 100 on the Garmin, but knew I still had some more few miles to go.  (Suddenly math was hard). 

Our group finally pulled up to the back side of Hersheypark.  One big loop to get to the stadium.  I did not have the energy to get excited, just enough to pedal.  Head down, pedal, pedal.  Head down, pedal, pedal. 

I can only imagine the smile on my face as a security guard waved me into the cycling entrance at the stadium.  Music was blaring, bells were ringing and there were a few small groups cheering as the cyclists trickled in.    The giant inflated finish line was less than half a lap away and I was bouncing to the beat.  I stopped pedaling as I rounded the last turn.  I was just gliding, hoping my momentum would carry me to the finish line and savoring those last few moments of My First Century as long as I could. 

It has been a wonderful journey and I can say without hesitation that this ranks up there with some of my life’s greatest experiences and biggest personal accomplishments.  As sad as I am to see it come to an end; I take comfort knowing that for me, the journey will continue… minus the blog.  With the peak perhaps in my rear view mirror, I already have next year’s Tour de Chocolate Town on my calendar; an event I hope to participate in for many years to come. 

To my friends and family, as well as my 12 followers, and yes, I have increased my readership through an aggressive online marketing strategy Facebook, thank you for all your words of encouragement and continued support.  I hope you have enjoyed reading as much as I have enjoyed writing. 

To Jenn and Dean, thank you for your hospitality and coming out and supporting me on my big race day.  The images you captured are priceless and I will cherish them forever. 

Thanks to Steve for motivating me to accomplish my goals and always being there for the nerdy stuff.  I probably would not have come this far if you had not planted the seed.  Next year’s ride is September 13^th.  Save the date.

A very special thank you to Joe (where ever you may be).  Chances are I will never see Joe again and I’m guessing he will never read this article, but I could not imagine my day without him right there behind me; pushing and encouraging me for 60 plus miles. 

For my kids, who I hope will one day read this.  Please know that it’s never to late to set new goals, live your dreams and accomplish the impossible.

And finally to my beautiful wife Shelley, who without all of her sacrifice, none of this would have been possible.  Thank you for putting up with the sweaty clothes, bikes in the dining room, and all the new toys; for picking up the slack and all of the general B.S. that went  with the hours and hours of training. I promise you, none of it went unnoticed.  I love you baby; all day, every day!!!

The Lone Wolf

When I initially made the decision to ride My First Century, the idea of writing about it didn't cross my mind. After reading a few articles documenting other first timers, I felt it would be nice to have something to look back on.  Maybe my journey could help motivate or inspire others to complete their first century.  Or perhaps I just had a handful of pent-up emotions that needed to find their way out.  I must say, that many of the early articles were definitely therapeutic.  And not just by expressing those emotions for the whole world to read, but it was a wonderful way to pass the time while on the bike.  Because on the bike is where I came up with most of my ideas.  Eventually the training and the writing became intertwined and now I couldn’t imagine one without the other.

Some passages just poured onto the page and I couldn’t type fast enough once I reached my computer.   Other articles came to me slow and piecemealed; quip by quip, line by line.  I would repeat something over and over in my head afraid I would forget it by the time I got home.  I probably lost troves of comedy gold that was forgotten before I could write it down.  Other times ideas didn’t play as well on paper as they did in my mind.  Possibly the hilarity could only be experienced after 40 miles, under the sun and in the heat of July.   

I kept a lot of notes.  Thoughts I wanted to convey but never had the appropriate context.  Funny pieces of information that I came across in my research for both the blog and my training…Like these gems from the Pennsylvania Department of Transportation’s Bicycle Driver’s Manual:

Pedalcycle: A vehicle propelled soley by human-powered pedals. The term does not mean a three-wheeled human powered pedal-driven vehicle with a main driving wheel 20 inches in diameter or under and primarily designed for children six years of age or younger.

Just in case there is any confusion, the definition is properly clarified:

Comment: Pedalcycle is the legal terminology for a bicycle in Pennsylvania.

Or perhaps you thought your bicycle was something other than a pedalcycle, PennDot is here to clear that up as well:

There are a couple of other common mistakes people make in getting onto their bikes. Some people push the bike along with a foot, like a scooter. Other people stand next to the bike, then leap over it, the way you mount a horse. But a bicycle is not a tricycle, a scooter, or a horse.

I’m both happy and sad to say that this is my last entry before the big day.  And while most of my articles have had a central theme, today will be a little retrospective and a little random.  I hope to pull the curtain back as they say and unload what’s left of my collection of loose thoughts.

  

I typically keep to the same roads.  As I increased my mileage, I expanded my loops, but still started and ended in familiar territory.  I often stopped at one particular spot.  Sometimes I stopped to rest, sometimes to grab a snack, and sometimes I stopped just take a few pictures.

It’s just a little old school house.  I don’t think anyone uses it anymore, but the old man who owns it spends hours and hours taking care of it.  The school always looks like it has a fresh coat of paint and the bushes must be trimmed on a weekly basis.  It’s the perfect place to get off the bike and admire someone else’s handiwork.

On the other side of the spectrum, I occasionally road past this:

 Not sure what it is or what they are doing, but I believe it's called art?

Here is an example of one of my completely random notes…”I can smell the corn!”  This was from a ride that would never make it into any other article, but was too unique and wonderful to discard.  During one of my many trips through the corn fields of Kutztown, when it was just about fully grown; the smell of fresh corn, like it was straight off the grill, rose from the fields.  It’s something I have never experienced before nor have experienced since. 

I have no shame admitting that I do not like hills.  Where I live, it is difficult finding a direction that doesn’t have a significant elevation gain.  But I have learned a few secrets to keeping off the steeper grades.  Avoid roads whose names fall into certain categories.  Obviously avoid any road that that has Hill in it.  That’s a gimme.  I once found myself on Hard Hill Rd.  That was not a fun day.

Also avoid any roads named after churches.  Surprise, surprise, those roads usually have a church on them.  And more times than not, those churches are at the top of a hill.  Finally let’s put the two together, and at all costs avoid any road named Church Hill.

This hill is big enough to hold two churches.

I have seen a handful of friends get turned on to cycling just in the past few months.  I certainly can’t take credit for their new passion, but I have taken great pleasure in answering their questions and advising them in any way I can.  I’m also hopeful that there are others out there who are taking something from these articles and putting it to good use.  I’m sure I’d be a little lost if I didn’t have someone I could turn to for advice.

My friend Steve summed it up best by saying its good to have someone to nerd out with over cycling.  I recently had the privilege of joining him for my final long prep before My First Century.  We broke 75 miles and got in some decent hills.  If anything, I learned that I’m a lone wolf.  Unlike most, I much prefer riding solo.  I love to stop and take pictures (obviously).  I'll hop off randomly to grab a snack, other times I'll see how long I can go without stopping. I have gone as far as 40 miles before I ran out of water.  I definitely don’t like being in a position where I’m holding someone back or stressed out because I am pushing to hard to keep up.  Perhaps one day I'll worry about someone slowing me down.  The point is: it’s my pace and I like it. 

Things were a little different with Steve.  He, more than anyone else, knew where I was physically and knew what to expect.  I would absolutely do it again, because it was a great day with my good friend.  But I’m certainly not looking to join a cycling club anytime soon. 

It was a great experience and one that I needed before the big day.  This ride actually served a secondary purpose other than just distance, because I definitely needed more experience passing and how to be passed before I get grouped with 1,500 other people on bikes.  I certainly don’t want to be the cause of a pileup in the first few miles.  We stuck mainly to the bike paths, passed dozens of cyclists and surprisingly we were only passed once.  We even got into some nice congestion in downtown Philly, which completely reinforced my desire to be far away from other riders.

After my 75 miler, I only had one more training ride on my to-do list before the My First Century.  It had nothing to do with the distance this time, but all about the experience.  Weather has been one of my chief concerns, specifically from a training perspective.  Fortunately this entire summer has been beautiful.  Temperatures have been mild and rain has been minimal and at the most opportune times.  But as the century ride approached, I got more and more concerned about race day weather; especially since I really haven’t had to deal with any harsh conditions throughout this entire process.  So when the forecast called for all day showers, I geared up and hit the road for two hours and 30 plus miles of steady rain. Thanks to that ride, I have the confidence that if it happens on my century, I know what to expect and I’ll be ready to push through 100 miles of it.

Do This. Don't Do That

I have done plenty of research getting ready for my My First Century.  I’m always scanning for tips on better riding or better equipment.  I invariably come across some article with the Dos and Don’ts of cycling.  It’s all pretty generic and mostly common sense:  DO eat breakfast.  DON’T forget to drink plenty of fluids.  I wanted to write something helpful, but not something that has already been done over and over.  So here are my Do's and Don't for all the non cyclists out there.

Let’s start with the trail/bike path walkers. 

DON’T walk your dog on a 10 foot leash.  Please keep your pets close to you.  If you want to let them run around, take them to the park…And the same goes for your kids. 

DO walk to the side of the path, not in the middle.  This is even more important for couples and/or groups.

DON’T lunge left.  When I call out “passing on the left,” that means my left, which also means your left.  So please, DON’T LUNGE LEFT. 

DO be prepared to have the piss scared out of you if you’re cranking music through your headphones.  As I mentioned above, I’ll call out that I’m passing, but I’m not trying to scream over your Taylor Swift tunes.

Like some pedestrians, many drivers also need to be educated on the many aspects of living in a world with bikes. 

Do share the road.

Don’t expect me to obey all traffic laws.  I admit it, I’ll make an illegal turn from time to time.  I follow the Idaho Stop rationale that lets cyclist treat stop signs as yield signs.  When it comes to street lights, most states only require cyclists to treat it as a stop sign: 

Red or completely unlighted signal shall stop in the same manner as a stop sign; and the right to proceed shall be subject to the rules applicable after making a stop at a stop sign.

Here’s another interest fact on the law:

Any person violating any provision of this subchapter is guilty of a summary
offense and shall, upon conviction, be sentenced to pay a fine of $10

Do admit that if your fines were only 10 bucks, you’d be rolling those stops signs as well.

Don’t honk to say hi.  If you see me, just send me a message on the Facebook like:  I saw you on your bike today…I was in my car.  Seriously, my initial thought when I hear a car horn is that several cars are careening out of control behind me.  So even if I do see you, I will probably have a death grip on my handlebars and unable to wave.

Do assume that cyclists are everywhere. 

Don’t text and drive.  Seriously, don’t text and drive.

Do give cyclists 3 feet when passing.  In many states the law in 3 feet.  In Pennsylvania, motorists are actually required to give cyclists 4 feet.  The 3 feet cause even has its own Facebook page.

https://www.facebook.com/3FeetPlease

Don’t assume I will always stay on the shoulder.  I will move over if the surface conditions are not ideal.  Here is a small sample of things I’ve seen just this summer:  Rocks, a dirty diaper, snakes, broken glass, a doll, sewage drains, a horse shoe, screws, branches, dead animals, and not so dead animals (a groundhog will hiss something fierce if threatened).

Not the actual groundhog I encountered, but just as scary.

Do give me the right of way when I have the right of way.

Don’t be the lady in the red dress.  When I’m on a busy road, I assume everyone will perform as expected.  I call this my Matrix Mode, where I am looking out for minor deviations in the typical flow of traffic, because it’s those deviations that will get me killed.  Occasionally you will get the overly cyclist friendly driver who thinks he’ll get a merit badge by stopping in the middle of the road to allow you to proceed.  Don’t do this.  First, I have no clue what you are doing.  Second, none of the other drivers on the road have a clue what you are doing.  Are you turning?  Did your car break down?  And now, other drivers are focused on you and don’t see me.  I’m focused on you and not on the drivers who are probably trying to navigate around you.  You have just become the lady in the red dress. 

  

Don’t say I don’t pay taxes.  I am a home owner; I pay property taxes and school taxes.  The sales tax on all my gear alone was a huge chunk of change.  Oh, and I do drive as well.  My jeep is a wonderful gas guzzler, but instead of sitting around eating Egg McMuffins and Slim Jims while drinking that double mocha mocha latte, I’m staying healthy and fit which is lowering insurance costs for everybody.  If you want to complain about someone not paying taxes and on your road, complain about the Mennonites.  And their horses crap all over the road as well.

Speaking of Mennonites…

Don’t drive your metal tired tractors on freshly laid asphalt. 

                                                  

This road was paved 6 days ago and is now lined with these grooves from the tractor treads.  They are probably less than an eighth of an inch deep, but they feel like rumble strips.  Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against Mennonites Rumble Strips.  They’ve probably saved a few lives here and there.  I just don’t want to be flying over them on a road bike. 

Feel free to add your own Do's and Don'ts in the comment section below.

It's Called the Metric System

Riding a hundred miles isn't something you just jump into.  I have always known that I would need to steadily increase the distance of my rides.  Along the way I would hit a handful of milestones.  The first on my list was The Half Century. I reached that a few weeks back on my trip around Blue Marsh Lake.  In a few weeks from now, I will try to ride 100 miles in two days.  Today however is about the Metric Century…or what we like to call in America:  62.1 miles. 

I actually planned to hit at least 63.  I’ve learned that I much rather ride a little extra than get close to home and be a little short.  Zig-zagging the neighborhood after a long ride knowing you can stop at anytime is not fun. This ride would push me about ten percent further than my previous rides.  I was looking forward to the challenge all week and I was pretty excited to cross the Metric Century off of my to-do list.

I started the morning off with a new breakfast routine, two bagels with cream cheese.  I had been feeling a little empty on some recent rides and thought this would definitely fill me up and add the extra carbs I needed for a long trip.  Could just be coincidence, but I felt better during this first half than any of my previous distance rides.  Needless to say, my First Century Breakfast has now been determined.

Before I hit the road, I made sure my tires were pumped full of air and my GPS was fully charged.

I put my contacts in so I could sport my new cycling shades….and now I probably need to go back and update one of my earlier blogs. 

I made sure I had a few snacks and plenty of fluids before I set out. I typically like to take a banana, a few cookies and a granola bar.  I also freeze a Gatorade which I throw in the back pocket of my shirt for later.

I almost forgot to apply some sunscreen for the second week in a row.  Fortunately, my three year old daughter was kind enough to remind me moments before I hit the road.

I started my ride with one of my shorter loops just to log some miles and make sure everything was working properly before I strayed too far from home.  I made my first stop after about 15 miles.  A little earlier than I wanted, but I was heading into no man’s land and I wouldn’t see another store for the next 20 miles.  I topped off my water and ate a banana.  Five minutes later, I was back on the road. 

Before my next stop, I hit the Bob Rodale Cycling and Fitness Park.  I love this little place.  I wish the track was a bit longer.  It is a smidge over one mile but has a couple of nice up and downs.  As long as everyone stays in their designated lane, it’s a great place to add a few miles to your route.  I put in 6 laps and was on my way.

Right up the road I stopped for lunch at Joe’s Pizza.  I was in and out in under ten minutes.  I had a quick slice that was delicious and completely guilt free.  Even better, Joe’s is stocked with sports drinks.  After getting refueled, I was ready to tackle the second half of my ride.

Six dollar lunch

With about 18 miles to go, I made my final stop.  Three minutes to grab another bottle of water and finish off my Gatorade.  I was now back in familiar territory and feeling great.  Nothing was chaffing and my backside wasn’t really sore.  Riding with the wind at my back didn’t hurt either.

Other than my three scheduled stops, I did pull over to take a picture of this guy and his massive horns.

Finally, I finished my first metric century and even tacked on a couple extra miles for good measure.

Not only did I feel great through most of the ride, I had no issues that night or even the next day.  I’m not quite at the speed I was hoping for but this pace will still let me finish my First Century in less than seven hours.  And if there’s one thing I’ve heard over and over again about your first century:  It’s a ride, not a race.  I’ll be happy just to finish My First Century and I will worry about the speed next time.

Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger

“It never gets easier, you just go faster” ~~Greg Lemond

It's been a little over six weeks since I began training for my century.  I am really happy with the gains I've been seeing, especially considering the short amount of time. As planned, my longer rides keep getting longer and I've seen a small increase in my speeds, even on the longer trips. I'm also down about 10 pounds since my training started, which keeps me on schedule to hit my desired race weight.

I was curious how I was stacking up to last year's workouts.  I scrolled through my cycling app until I got to a ride from one year ago.  I wasn’t working towards a goal like I am today, but I had been riding a few days a week for almost four months at that point.  I was serious about shedding the pounds and getting into better shape.  But I wasn't even close to where I am now.

So for fun (and because I thought I could turn it into a decent article), I decided to ride the exact same route.  To get a fair comparison, I rode the old bulky bike.  I cut 25 minutes off last year’s time.  Since I was in comparison mode, the next day I took the same route again; this time on my new road bike.  I beat last year’s time by 32 minutes which was seven minutes faster than I just did on the old bike.  There’s no arguing that better equipment makes a better rider.

 “It never gets easier, you just go faster.”  I would expand on this to say you just go faster and farther.  12 miles, that was a big deal back then.  It would be an entire month until I broke 20.  A few weeks after that,  I logged my longest ride of the summer which was 27 miles.  My best week was just 65.  Now I routinely do 100 miles in three days.

Every week I set one day aside for my long ride.  I have been increasing the distance a few miles each time.  In addition to the normal pain and discomfort you experience from any workout, being on a bike for three or more hours can get boring from time to time.  In order to break the monotony, I keep looking for new travel destinations.  Sometimes it’s nothing more than a new gas station to refill my liquids.  Other times I’m looking for some place a little more scenic.  Either way, new roads make the trip a lot easier...at least mentally.

My scenic trip around Blue Marsh Lake 

A few weeks ago, while I was trying to plan one of my longer rides, I remembered an old high school friend, Colleen, lived about 25 miles up the road.  I shot her a few messages and she invited me for a visit.  We coordinated a day and a time.  She just bought a new farm and was excited to show it off.  I was looking forward to catching up and really happy to have an objective that did not revolve around my next bottle of water.  I set out on my trip late in the morning.  The temps were in the mid 80's and I had to make a few hard climbs just to get to her place. When I finally arrived (a hot a sweaty mess), I was thrilled just to get off my bike.  The first thing I did was apologize for my stench. After that, I got a tour and she introduced me to all of her beautiful horses. We also managed to get a couple of cool pics.

I smelled so bad, this horse had to be bribed with treats to pose with me.

We had a great visit, but eventually Colleen filled up my water bottles and sent me on my way.  It was such a memorable trip.  Not only because of the destination, but I also learned two valuable lessons. 

First, it helps to know your roads.  The elevation gain on this trip was way more than I wanted and/or expected.  But I fought through it and I’m probably stronger for it.  I also found myself on a long road which was freshly and only partially “oiled and chipped”.  If you are not familiar with the term "oiled and chipped", it’s when they tar the road and dump loose gravel on top.  I’m sure they probably steam roll it, but not all the gravel gets embedded.  It just lies loose until enough traffic kicks it off the side of the road.  It definitely is not an ideal riding surface for a road bike.  But that wasn’t even the worst part.  As I stated earlier, the road was only partially oiled and chipped.  Half of it was just dirt and stone.    

Not to mention a pretty steep hill.

I’m not ashamed to say, I walked the dirt and stone section on my way back.  I almost wrecked several times trying to get down the hill and riding up the thing with tiring legs just added a few more levels of difficulty.

The second lesson I learned: keep your breaks short.  As much as I enjoyed catching up with my friend, touring the farm, and seeing all the horses; I spent way too much time out of the saddle (if there’s a pun there, it’s intended).  Getting back on the bike after about 90 minutes was a miserable experience.  And it wasn’t just that I was tight.  I was tight, I had 25 miles to go and that was all I could think about. Fortunately I started to loosen up after a few miles and I eventually became distracted by things other than my legs; like this interesting wood sculpture. 

 Are Gnotem Poles real?  Yes they are.

What Primo Said

"And I also know how important it is in life not necessarily to be strong but to feel strong, to measure yourself at least once, to find yourself at least once."  ~~ Primo Levi

  

I have this strange sense of purpose which I haven’t experienced in quite a long time.  I have come to the conclusion that the reason for this is that I haven’t challenged myself lately.  Don’t get me wrong, I have two children, 3 and 5.  I am challenged on a daily basis.  But aren’t most of us?  What I am talking about is a “grand” challenge.

For me, my last “grand” challenge was probably putting myself through college at the age of 30.   I was taking classes year round.  I was also working full time.  I threw an internship on top of everything my final semester because isn’t sleep just a luxury?  After graduating with not one, but two degrees, I was fortunate to find a job.  I’m not sure if I can say I found myself, but I felt measured and I felt strong. 

There have been other challenges in my life both big and small.  I have succeeded in some and failed at others.  When it comes to a challenge of a physical nature, I can’t recall having one like this since high school cross country.  Sure, I’ve gotten into workout routines.  I joined a few gyms.  I even won a weight loss wager here and there.   But not since high school did I take a physical activity this seriously. 

It was my junior year and I tragically lost two friends, one of which ran cross country.  Let me clarify.  Tim didn’t just run cross country, he was Mr. Cross Country.  He led the team to a state title as a sophomore and he was looking at a full ride to the college of his choice.  I remember sitting around his kitchen table the day after the accident.  His father was being strong, when so many of us could not.  In what was probably the most profound rhetorical question ever posed to me, he said:  This house was never perfect.  We had our fights and disagreements.  There were times when Tim would get angry and frustrated, and do you know what he would do...He would run.  

A few months later, triggered by my own moment of anger and frustration those words came back to me; I took to the road and never looked back.  Over the next few months, I ran nearly 500 miles.  I was easily in the best shape of my life.  I was voted Co-Captain by my Cross Country team.   I was finding myself.  I felt strong and I was ready to be measured.  And then the unthinkable happened. On the first mile of the first meet of the season, I stepped on a rock and broke my foot.  Just like that, I was done.  With tears streaming down my face, I kept going.  I wasn’t really running anymore, it was more of a cross between half limp and half skip.  The tears were not from the pain.  I knew that it was over.  The race, the season, everything I worked so hard for.  I had to be physically stopped.  Ironically it was my Tim’s older brother who had come to support the team.  I crumpled to the ground, devastated, broken.

I tried to get it going again once the cast came off.  But I was overwhelmed from looking at the twig that once held my missing calf muscle.   I was emotionally and physically drained.  I relaxed through the rest of my senior year and I relaxed through the next 3 and a half years of college (hence the reason I went back at the age of 30).

I think I’m done relaxing.  I’m anxious to find out what’s still left in the tank, both physically and mentally.  I also want to be an example to my children.  I know Levi wasn’t talking about cycling.  He was talking about man’s ability to overcome adversity, on your own, “nothing to help you but your own hands and your own head”.  I want my children to know that it’s never too late. Whether it’s in their education, career, or life in general, they need to continue to challenge themselves.  I want them to put themselves in situations where they can be measured and hopefully rise to the challenge.  But when they fail, when they become angry and frustrated, I hope they will continue to look for new opportunities to be measured.  It’s only then that they will truly find themselves.

The Price of Admission

You gotta pay to play.

When I first got into cycling, I had no idea how much it was going to cost.  Then again, I never imagined I would be gearing up to ride 100 miles in a single day.  It started off fairly cheap, with my starter bike.  I never intended to go long distances, so what was the point of making a huge investment, and that remained true for years.  Safety first, so I needed a helmet and that was about it.  Over time, I added a water bottle cage and a small saddle bag.  I bought a lock when I started commuting to work.  All this served me well until I decided to get serious.

I won’t get into the dollar and cents of what happened next.  Hell, I haven’t even told my wife how much I spent.  But its my money and I’ll spend it however I see fit, But my wife is a wise woman and understands the benefits of having a healthy husband and her children having a fit father, not to mention the whole lotta sexy starting to rise to the surface of this once large and puffy shape that used to lounge around on the couch all weekend.  She also understands the cost of precision and safety required to successfully fulfill this undertaking of completing a century ride.  My wife's so smart.

The next waive of spending started with my bike.  You can get your hands on a decent new road bike for under a grand.  The better brands typically have a really nice first tier for a reasonable price.  What shocked me was how quick prices go up.  For example, my local bike shop sells a Trek Madone 7.9 for $10,999.  That’s more than I paid for my car.

I’m still riding my old bike, so I needed all new accessories.  And since my rides were getting longer, I need a few more bells and whistles.  To start,  I got two cages and an extra water bottle.  I put on an extra large saddle bag, why an extra long saddle bag you ask?  Well I need somewhere to carry my extra tire tube and my tire patch kit. It’s one thing to get a flat tire right around the corner.  It’s another thing to blow one 20 miles from nowhere.  In addition to my floor pump with pressure gauge, I also got a smaller one that attaches to the bike.  The guy at the store asked if I had a tool.  A tool?  Yeah, everybody needs a tool.  So I got this bad boy.

No clue what half this stuff does

I never really embraced the riding culture.  I even turned my nose up at it from time to time.  I would see these guys riding around in their jerseys like they were training for the Tour de France.  I said, that’ll never be me.  Nope, gym shorts and a T-shirt is all I needed.  But guess what, I eventually geeked out.

I won’t subject you to anymore padded shorts talk, but I will mention cycling jerseys.  First, they are awesome.  Not only do they look and feel great, they serve a practical purpose as well.  Most come with a few pockets located on the lower back.  When I completed my first half century this past week, I took full advantage of the extra carrying capacity.  It was hot and I knew I wasn’t going find a rest stop for the first 25 miles, so I threw a Gatorade on my back along with a banana and a few other snacks to get me through my ride.

And then there is my Garmin Edge 200 Bike Computer.  Other than the bike itself, this is probably my favorite little toy.  

If you are in the market for a cycling GPS , you can’t go wrong with this one.  I was using the phone app Map My Ride to track all my rides.  I still do, which is another great feature of the Garmin.  I can download all my rides right to the app.  Again, distance is the true reason for my switch.  The last thing I need is a dead phone while I’m out and about.  It’s small, hooks easily to your bike.  Tracks distance, time, speed.  Here’s the link to the detailed review that sold me on this unit.

http://www.dcrainmaker.com/2011/08/garmin-edge-200-in-depth-review.html

  

My Garmin is by no means top of the line.  There are bigger and better GPS systems made for cycling.  So like almost everything I own, this could certainly be upgraded. There are dozens of accessories I’ve either chosen not to purchase or at least have put on hold for the time being, like cycling shoes and the clipless pedals. Next on my wish list is a bike rack.  No these things are not necessary and I always advice:  Only spend what you can afford.  So for now, I’m just keep throwing my bike in the back of the jeep and let the wheel hang out the back window.

The price is not just monetary.  There is a physical price to be paid as well, in blood, sweat, possibly tears. 

I’ll save the emotional toll for another time and focus on the physical aspect.  And I don’t just mean freak accidents, but yes they happen.  I earned this small battle wound slipping a gear while pressing through a busy intersection.  Only my cat like reflexes saved you from an entirely different version of this blog. 

There is of course the temporary pain, like the burn from going up one too many hills.  There is the general soreness from pushing through an endurance run.  And at my age, the basic aches and pains associated with just from rolling out of bed the next morning.

Then there are the lingering aches.  My biggest physical issue to this point has been my hands.  It was really bad when I rode the hybrid.  The handlebars only allowed for one grip position.  I would start losing feeling in my hands after just a few miles.  On my road bike, I have drop bars which allows for several different grips.  I just need to remember to keep switching it up.  This has drastically reduced the numbness especially on my short rides.  The longer rides however, are still causing mild pain and stiffness that can linger for days.  I’ve chalked most of this up to hand positioning and my occasional death grip.  I found a few pointers relating to grips and contact points.  Like the ideal spot to rest your hands.

I’ve gotten most of my advice on this topic from Bike Forums.  So to give credit where credit is due:

http://www.bikeforums.net/road-cycling/543092-thumbs-going-dead-embarrassingly-short-rides-2.html

Scroll about half way down the page for a detail description of hand positions.  I can't say for sure it all works or if I'm just more focused at keeping my hands relaxed, but I have noticed some improvement to issue.

To go with this week’s theme, of course I got a new pair of padded bike gloves with strategically placed gel-padding and its engineered three-panel design.  Not only do they help soften up those contact points, but they also help absorb the vibrations from the road.  But the most important reason for the cycling gloves (and hopefully the least needed) is to protect your hands in a wipe out.  Plus mine are also fingerless, so they make me look way cool.