I finally got a high mileage (for me) weekend in. I rode 23 miles Friday, 38 miles Saturday and then 35 miles on Sunday. My legs felt like a turd sandwich on Monday but I felt accomplished.
Friday's ride was different. Jen and I rode up to Valley Forge and after the first third of the ride she just looked at me and asked if I wanted to go down the road on our left. I was bored too so I was more than happy to try something new.
Good road. rolling hills for about a mile and it dropped us right where we started. It'll make a nice addition to our normal route.
Saturday's ride was down to the Art Museum and back. We rode down with Eric and even though I didn't want to do any hills, sure enough he added two miles of them onto our ride. Whatever, they weren't bad and it only makes me stronger.
Jen was sick on Sunday and Niko made his long awaited return to riding. He had a chest cold and hadn't been on a bike in three weeks but he still made it out (*cough*Jen*cough*).
I was late leaving to meet him so I sped down to Betzwood in a little under 18 minutes (the fastest I had ever done it before was 24 minutes). After that I just wanted to do a recovery ride, but cap'n chest cold decided to do 20+ mph until his lungs were ready to rip out of his chest. So much for recovery.
We rode towards Audubon and then went down to Conshohocken, then back to Betzwood. I was going to ride back home, but we were in a time crunch to leave for Maryland (Jen's parents have an amazing house that hangs 20 feet over a river that leads into the Chesapeake Bay) so I caught a ride back with him. My legs were beat.
Tuesday Jen and I went out and just rode down to the end of the path and back (it's a little over 17 miles). We picked up the pace on the way home and halfway between Conshy and Norristown we hear a nice "PSSSSSSST!" Yup, I got me first flat. It was in the rear and Jen kept fucking up my flow by doing things like taking the tire from me and trying to do it herself (BOO!), but I got it changed and inflated in about five minutes so I felt pretty good about it. I'm glad I practiced doing it a bunch at home before it ever really happened to me. I was a lot less flustered than I could have been. It also felt like I knew what I was doing. So yeah, if you don't know how to change a flat, learn. It's stupid easy. Just make sure you practice with the rear wheel. It's the "hard" one.
30 July, 2008
19 July, 2008
I don't waste anytime, do I?
Yesterday (ignore the June date, I wrote it yesterday) I stated that I needed to climb more because I suck at it. Today I did something about it. Jen's friend Eric, who helped her last year become a much stronger rider, took us up and down some roads that I didn't even know were around here.
We started off heading up towards Audubon, but instead of breaking off and doing the Loop, we went down the Perkiomen Trail until it turns into a gravel path. We then headed up some road then turned onto another that had a nice tiny hill that brought us back to where we began. I, obviously hating myself, suggested we do the Audubon hill. And we did, some faster than others (Eric is a freak). Jen had gone to the gym and worked out her legs yesterday so she wasn't too happy with the idea.
As we were making our way back to the path, Eric suggests we go do a few hills. It was exactly what I wanted. Jen, knowing Eric better than I do, suggests we not. So of course I say yes and we're off. It started off with a few rolling hills, nothing big. I was stuck to Eric’s wheel and feeling really good about myself. Each hill is causing my legs to burn, but not so badly that I even think about stopping. I'm riding right in the middle, dropped by Eric, but closer to him than Jen is to me. I feel strong and accomplished and want to do nothing but these hills for the rest of the day.
While my head is fooling me into thinking that climbing is fun and exhilarating I'm forgetting two very important things. One, it's eight in the morning and the temperature is already around 90*s out. Two, I didn't bring anything to eat with me because I thought we were just doing the Audubon Loop.
So we swoop downhill and turned on to the road I've been dreaming of. It's narrow, pavement slightly broken, but smooth enough to ride on, there's little traffic and it has a nice grade that seems to go on for miles. I was delighted. I chugged water until I felt it slosh around a little and I start heading up.
Minutes go by and I'm still on cloud nine. I found what I wanted a day after realizing it's what I wanted. It was the most instant, instant gratification I had ever received. "It was too good to be true." I thought. As I finished that thought, the road turned and went upward at a rate I knew would do a little more than push me. "No worries!" I thought, "I've still got three gears left before I'm geared out." Within 100 yards I'm geared out and starting to feel it. It wasn't the slight burn I was gleefully feeling before, but a deep, agonizing burn. A burn that makes me hate my new-found hill of destiny I had wished upon myself. It made me hate my bike. It made me hate and curse the person who plotted out the road and the people who paved it. I had found the ever talked about "suffering."
Writers who ride have spent years beautifully romanticizing suffering. Fuck them. There's nothing romantic about it. It's agony. It's horrible. At one point, I started laughing out loud while riding. It was actually half laughter because I could only let out a momentary "HA!" before I had to suck in as much air as possible to turn the pedals. I wanted to throw my bike down the side of this hellacious mother fucker and walk home.
As all of those wonderful thoughts were running through my head, and my eyes were routinely deceived by false peaks, I heard Jen yell up to me "You're in trouble when we get home!" I laugh louder, but only for a moment before I can't take anymore. My back hurt more than my legs and that's enough to scare me into hopping right off my bike. Jen wastes absolutely no time joining me. I think she even dismounted faster than I did. Eric comes down to join us.
After sitting there for a few minutes another group of guys punishing themselves rides up and asks if we're alright. "I'm fine, thanks." sends them on their way with looks of anger. I imagine them thinking "why can't he be hurt so we can stop?" and start laughing again. Jen tells me to drink more, probably thinking I'm delirious.
A few minutes later I climbed back on my bike. My legs felt fine. I pedaled around the corner to see the elusive top less than two hundred yards away. It becomes abundantly clear to me that I bonked. I had nothing left in the tank. My legs were fine after a brief recovery, but I didn't have the energy to make them pedal. I needed a samich.
To pour more salt in the wound, Eric isn't 100% sure where we are. "We're in the right township" is supposed to somehow make me feel better. Whatever. It looks to be mostly downhill in either direction and that's all that matters to me. So we head in the direction he thinks we should go. On the way down, it occurred to me that another plus from climbing more was learning how to descend. I'm not so big on the turning while doing 40mph down a hill on tires no wider than my thumb. Eric makes it look stupid easy and I try to follow him into a turn at speed. I spend the next few moments hoping I can slow enough to not die and pray there isn't shit running down my leg. I slow enough and do a quick look down and a wiggle to make sure there's no dook.
Jen and her super aerodynamic frame fall way behind us due to her 115lbs weight. I'm pretty sure if she geared out on a hill and I just coasted, I'd beat her down every time. At one point Eric and I were so far ahead that she almost made a wrong turn. We tried to slow it down, but it was so much fun. I started tucking and gaining speed on each hill, becoming more and more comfortable with descending. By the time it turned back uphill I was disappointed, not because the hills were too hard, but because I couldn't continue to fly downhill.
We made our way to the backside of Valley Forge and I insisted we stop. The downhill was great but after the few hills to get back, it becomes clear again that I had no energy. We stop and Eric gave me a Cliff bar. I had never been so happy to see a Cliff bar. I took my time eating it so I didn’t puke. I've at least learned that lesson. We headed back through the park and made it back to the bike path. Back on the flat I was amazed at how easy it was to do 18-20mph. Jen kept checking on me to see if I was okay, but after the greatest Cliff bar of my life I felt ready to start the ride again. I was almost sad the ride was almost over. I was back to wanting to ride all day. Cycling, you fickle bitch you.
We started off heading up towards Audubon, but instead of breaking off and doing the Loop, we went down the Perkiomen Trail until it turns into a gravel path. We then headed up some road then turned onto another that had a nice tiny hill that brought us back to where we began. I, obviously hating myself, suggested we do the Audubon hill. And we did, some faster than others (Eric is a freak). Jen had gone to the gym and worked out her legs yesterday so she wasn't too happy with the idea.
As we were making our way back to the path, Eric suggests we go do a few hills. It was exactly what I wanted. Jen, knowing Eric better than I do, suggests we not. So of course I say yes and we're off. It started off with a few rolling hills, nothing big. I was stuck to Eric’s wheel and feeling really good about myself. Each hill is causing my legs to burn, but not so badly that I even think about stopping. I'm riding right in the middle, dropped by Eric, but closer to him than Jen is to me. I feel strong and accomplished and want to do nothing but these hills for the rest of the day.
While my head is fooling me into thinking that climbing is fun and exhilarating I'm forgetting two very important things. One, it's eight in the morning and the temperature is already around 90*s out. Two, I didn't bring anything to eat with me because I thought we were just doing the Audubon Loop.
So we swoop downhill and turned on to the road I've been dreaming of. It's narrow, pavement slightly broken, but smooth enough to ride on, there's little traffic and it has a nice grade that seems to go on for miles. I was delighted. I chugged water until I felt it slosh around a little and I start heading up.
Minutes go by and I'm still on cloud nine. I found what I wanted a day after realizing it's what I wanted. It was the most instant, instant gratification I had ever received. "It was too good to be true." I thought. As I finished that thought, the road turned and went upward at a rate I knew would do a little more than push me. "No worries!" I thought, "I've still got three gears left before I'm geared out." Within 100 yards I'm geared out and starting to feel it. It wasn't the slight burn I was gleefully feeling before, but a deep, agonizing burn. A burn that makes me hate my new-found hill of destiny I had wished upon myself. It made me hate my bike. It made me hate and curse the person who plotted out the road and the people who paved it. I had found the ever talked about "suffering."
Writers who ride have spent years beautifully romanticizing suffering. Fuck them. There's nothing romantic about it. It's agony. It's horrible. At one point, I started laughing out loud while riding. It was actually half laughter because I could only let out a momentary "HA!" before I had to suck in as much air as possible to turn the pedals. I wanted to throw my bike down the side of this hellacious mother fucker and walk home.
As all of those wonderful thoughts were running through my head, and my eyes were routinely deceived by false peaks, I heard Jen yell up to me "You're in trouble when we get home!" I laugh louder, but only for a moment before I can't take anymore. My back hurt more than my legs and that's enough to scare me into hopping right off my bike. Jen wastes absolutely no time joining me. I think she even dismounted faster than I did. Eric comes down to join us.
After sitting there for a few minutes another group of guys punishing themselves rides up and asks if we're alright. "I'm fine, thanks." sends them on their way with looks of anger. I imagine them thinking "why can't he be hurt so we can stop?" and start laughing again. Jen tells me to drink more, probably thinking I'm delirious.
A few minutes later I climbed back on my bike. My legs felt fine. I pedaled around the corner to see the elusive top less than two hundred yards away. It becomes abundantly clear to me that I bonked. I had nothing left in the tank. My legs were fine after a brief recovery, but I didn't have the energy to make them pedal. I needed a samich.
To pour more salt in the wound, Eric isn't 100% sure where we are. "We're in the right township" is supposed to somehow make me feel better. Whatever. It looks to be mostly downhill in either direction and that's all that matters to me. So we head in the direction he thinks we should go. On the way down, it occurred to me that another plus from climbing more was learning how to descend. I'm not so big on the turning while doing 40mph down a hill on tires no wider than my thumb. Eric makes it look stupid easy and I try to follow him into a turn at speed. I spend the next few moments hoping I can slow enough to not die and pray there isn't shit running down my leg. I slow enough and do a quick look down and a wiggle to make sure there's no dook.
Jen and her super aerodynamic frame fall way behind us due to her 115lbs weight. I'm pretty sure if she geared out on a hill and I just coasted, I'd beat her down every time. At one point Eric and I were so far ahead that she almost made a wrong turn. We tried to slow it down, but it was so much fun. I started tucking and gaining speed on each hill, becoming more and more comfortable with descending. By the time it turned back uphill I was disappointed, not because the hills were too hard, but because I couldn't continue to fly downhill.
We made our way to the backside of Valley Forge and I insisted we stop. The downhill was great but after the few hills to get back, it becomes clear again that I had no energy. We stop and Eric gave me a Cliff bar. I had never been so happy to see a Cliff bar. I took my time eating it so I didn’t puke. I've at least learned that lesson. We headed back through the park and made it back to the bike path. Back on the flat I was amazed at how easy it was to do 18-20mph. Jen kept checking on me to see if I was okay, but after the greatest Cliff bar of my life I felt ready to start the ride again. I was almost sad the ride was almost over. I was back to wanting to ride all day. Cycling, you fickle bitch you.
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