On June 25th, 2011, I attempted the second triple century of my career. That would be 300 miles of bicycle riding within 24 hours in the Grand Tour. I did that ride the year before in 23 hours, 29 minutes. This would be my second attempt, and a chance to beat that time.
The night before, I carbo-loaded on some Chicken Alfredo and attempted to go to sleep early, since I would need to get up at about 2:45 am, AND would be riding for almost 24 hours after that! But as usual I was too excited, so I only got about five hours (which was still pretty good). So I got up at 2:45 am, got dressed, ate a quick continental breakfast, and left the motel to drive to the starting line in Malibu.
I got to the starting line right at 4am, which was right when the route opened. There were very few riders there, so check-in was a breeze. That was great because I was able to get on the route very early for the long day ahead. I just hoped my old worn tires would last 300 miles.
I did this ride before, so I knew the route and had a strategy: TAKE IT EASY. I was going to conserve my energy for the hills (especially the 19%-grade Potrero Rd.), and just listen to my body. If I ever got tired, I would slow down and not try to fight it. If I had the energy, I would use every bit of it. I had 300 miles to go. It was going to be a long day AND night, no matter what. So I had better just settle in and save it for the long haul.
Such a strategy would have interesting consequences.
I hit PCH (Pacific Coast Highway) in Malibu at 4am. I leapfrogged with this other rider, who passed me on the downhills and flats but whom I passed on the uphills. At one point, we ended up just riding together and had a nice conversation. Like me, he did the Highland Triple last year. It's always nice to ride with fellow riders, especially since I'm usually alone and still don't know very many people in the CTC/Randonneuring community yet.
As I exited PCH in Point Mugu, and came to a stop at the stop sign at the end of the ramp, four riders blew right by me, didn't call out when passing, ran right through the stop sign, and two of them even passed me on the right. Now, I don't mind being passed (it certainly happens to me often enough), but I DO mind when riders don't warn me and even worse, pass on my right side. Don't riders at this level of riding know better? Come on! Even worse, this would not be the last time I would see such stupidity on this ride.
I arrived at the first checkpoint in Port Hueneme at 7:30am. There were very few riders there, which was nice because there was no long line for the bathrooms or the food. (Last year, Rest Stop 1 was packed!) I did what I had to do, and headed on out towards the dreaded Potrero Rd.
I took it nice and easy. I was not going to push it. I knew what was coming. I crossed the "Camarillo Basin" and reached Potrero Road. I started the first climb. I took it easy. This was not the hard part. The road eased up, and I continued my steady pace towards the steep incline. I ascended each gradual hill. And there it was. The road all of a sudden ascended into this very steep pitch. I told myself, "Here we go."
I downshifted into my lowest gear combination, and just took it steady. Even in my lowest gears, it was an extreme struggle to push that bike up that 19% grade. But I was not going to stop. I was going to finish this in one fell swoop. So I just kept pushing. My heart rate was over 90%. My sunglasses started to fog up. My breathing was getting really fast and hard. Then up ahead, I saw a car disappear under the horizon. It was the top! Already? I already finished the hill?? Wow. When I reached the top, I wanted to yell out a big, "Woohoo!" But I was out of breath.
I continued riding strong after Rest Stop 2, cruising through Lake Sherwood, Thousand Oaks, and then up to Simi Valley and Moorpark. I checked in at Rest Stop 3 and grabbed a lot of food, because I knew what was coming up . . . almost 30 miles until lunch, with two nasty climbs and almost certain headwind.
I left Rest Stop 3 and started the Grimes Canyon ascent. I then got pissed off that I had to stop to take off my arm warmers because it was getting too hot. And then, of course, I had to reapply sunscreen. I hate it when you have to do wardrobe changes in the middle of a ride; such a pain! I then started my nice technical descent down Grimes Canyon. I'm telling ya, I'm really getting good at negotiating and steering through the turns on those technicals! But as I entered Bardsdale, I could feel the wind picking up.
I turned left on Bardsdale Road, and then onto South Mountain Road. And there certainly was headwind. But it did not seem to be as bad as I remember from last year. In any event though, I decided not to fight it. I just relaxed and pedaled at a maintainable pace, especially since I knew I still had another nasty climb on Highway 150 coming up.
I reached Santa Paula, and I had to stop and down a 400+ calorie MetRx bar. (I could not wait until lunch. Hunger was approaching now! And I still had the long climb to Ojai.) I started the climb, passed Thomas Aquinas College, and had to stop and take my helmet light off since the strap buckle was making a dent in my skull and giving me a headache! I then continued the long climb, and eventually reached the top. There was a hamburger restaurant there. I was SOOOO tempted! But I knew lunch was just a flat-and-downhill away. So I continued. I reached the last technical descent before Ojai. Unfortunately, I could not take it too fast because there was too much traffic. Darned cars! I then turned onto Carne Rd. (which just made me hungrier), and then onto Grand Ave., Park Rd., and then over to lunch. Good. Because I was hungry!
I grabbed a boatload of (salty) food and ate in silence. I contemplated the ride ahead: just one more nasty climb around Lake Casitas and then the remaining 160 miles would be mostly flat (just a few rollers and some wind here and there). I put on my second (or was it third?) application of "butt butter", and got back on my bike through the confusing-as-hell ride through Ojai.
As I rode through Ojai, I was appalled at the number of riders that failed to stop at stop signs. Pretty much every rider ran right through the stop signs! Even worse, they would ride right through despite other cars having the right-of-way. I think I was the only rider that actually obeyed the rules of the road. I was disgusted! I'm sorry, but if we cyclists want motorists to respect us more, we need to do our part and obey the laws of the road just as motorists do.
As I was leaving the city limits of Ojai, I came across two poor riders who had missed the lunch stop. They asked where it was, and I told them that it was back a few miles. I felt bad for them. And they needed to go back, not only to eat but to check in and get credit for the ride. Plus, they would need the energy until the next rest stop.
I started the last major climb of the ride . . . around Lake Casitas on Highway 150. The climbs were nasty as expected. I was slow and sluggish, but I wasn't going to push too hard because I still had 170 miles to go afterward. Long day (and night) still ahead! A couple of times the wind gusts caused me to swerve a bit. As is usual for me when that happens, I screamed like a little princess! But I eventually got through it all, and was rewarded with a nice descent all the way down to Carpinteria.
Now last year, when I arrived at Carpinteria, it was about 4pm, and I was having doubts about whether I could actually finish the 300. This year was different; it was only 2:45pm. And I was feeling GREAT! I had NO doubts about finishing the 300. So with confidence, another application of "butt butter" and incredible will-power to skip the Krispy Kremes at the rest stop, I continued on towards Gaviota.
The ride through Santa Barbara was really nice. I was enjoying the warm summer day, with the beautiful ride along the beach and all the happy people out and about enjoying the warm Santa Barbara sun. The climbs through Hope Ranch annoyed me a bit (always beware of roads with the name “Cliff” in them), but other than that, the ride to the next rest stop in Goleta was really nice.
I continued on, and hit the US-101 Freeway for the long 17-mile stretch to Gaviota. I rode with one of my fellow riders for a bit, reassuring him that, “Yes, this was the right way; it was going to be a while before the next exit.” And despite having eaten a lot at the last rest stop I still had to down yet another Met-Rx "High Calorie" bar because darn it I was hungry! I eventually reached Gaviota, the far point of the triple century. (Last year, when I arrived I was one of the last riders. This year, there were about 3 other riders who arrived with me, which was nice because it showed that I was keeping pace with my fellow riders this time.)
As I headed back, I hit a wall (not literally . . . I just got tired). It happened as I passed through Refugio State Beach, which was the same place where I hit a wall last year. (What is it about that place?!) I downed some electrolytes. Didn't help (at least, not yet). So I just slowed WAAAAY down, and "actively rested". I putted along the return on Highway 101. I eventually started to regain my strength as I arrived in Goleta.
After the rest stop in Goleta, I continued on my way back through Santa Barbara. The route on the return was easier as we didn't go through Hope Ranch. I rode through the streets of Santa Barbara, soaking in all the happy tourists out enjoying the summer nightlife. I turned off of Cabrillo onto Channel, reminiscing about the AIDS/LifeCycle Paradise Pit! I climbed over the "Summerland Bump", and was surprised at how quickly I finished it (last year when I did it, I was struggling). I hit the flat through Summerland and Carpinteria, and arrived at the Rincon Rest Stop an hour earlier than I did the prior year. Sadly, this time I wanted Krispy Kreme donuts, and they were out.
I continued down 101 through Mussel Shoals, and turned onto Pacific Coast Highway through Seacliff. One rider decided to tail me, because he didn't know the route. So I safely led him (and me) through the tricky Seacliff/Ventura bike path and through old town Ventura onto Harbor Boulevard. As I proceeded down Harbor, I all of a sudden got an incredible amount of strength, and starting jamming at an average speed over 17 miles-per-hour. And that surprised me, considering I was at around 260 miles, and it was about 1am. As I was riding along through Oxnard, I saw a bicyclist riding the other way, with a car tailing her or him. They must have been one of the quad riders. I arrived at the last rest stop of the ride, in Port Hueneme, feeling surprisingly strong. Up next, the last 30 miles.
Last year, the last 30 miles of the ride, through Malibu, were miserable. I was struggling, I was feeling miserable, and I was sleepy. Plus, I was nervous about finishing the ride within the 24-hour time limit. THIS year, I had plenty of time to finish within the time limit, even if I averaged 10 miles-per-hour. And I knew that Malibu had some nasty hills (not that they were really difficult hills, but that they were difficult when you've just ridden 280 miles!). And this year, I was feeling pretty good. So I decided on the following strategy: finish the ride in under 23 hours by conserving my energy for the hills.
I started down Hueneme Road towards Naval Air Road, and then hit Pacific Coast Highway for the last 25 or so miles of the ride. I just took it easy, preparing myself for the Malibu Rollers. I then hit the first big hill at Leo Carrillo State Beach. I took it easy, and before I knew it, I was over the hump. I then started to push harder. A few more ups-and-downs. I kept pushing harder, seeing the 23-hour goal approaching. More rollers. More pushing. More sleepiness setting in. I got more aggressive. I WAS GOING TO FINISH THE RIDE IN UNDER 23, DAMN IT! The Zuma Climb. I was getting closer. Push, push, push! I knew I would finish, but I HAD TO BEAT LAST YEAR'S TIME! Push, push, push! Another climb. Push, push, push! And then another climb. Was this the Pepperdine Climb? I thought so. I hoped so. I reached a false summit, and then another smaller climb after it. And then . . . a sign. Pepperdine University . . . to the right. YES! Just a couple more miles left! And then, Malibu Canyon Road. PLEASE, stoplight, turn green for my left turn! Especially since there is a Malibu Police Car right there. (Wouldn't that suck if I missed my goal because I got a ticket at 3am in Malibu on a bicycle?!) God must have been smiling down on me, because the left turn green arrow lit up just for me, with no help from any other cars! It was destiny. A short ride on Malibu Canyon Road, then the steep descent down to the finish line. What a fitting end to a 300-mile bike ride!
I arrived at the finish line, leaned my bike against a pole, and ran in to the ride official to check in. Final time . . . drum roll . . . 22 hours and 49 minutes. YESSSSSSSSSS!!!!
I then quickly ran to the bathroom because I had to pee like crazy.
I DID IT! Not only did I finish another triple century, I beat last year's time by 40 minutes! But what was really phenomenal was how smartly I rode this year's ride. This year, my strategy was to take it easy and conserve energy. Push when I felt like it, but when I started to feel tired hold back and save energy. Not to get frustrated and push too hard. But to relax. Because it was going to be a LOOOONG DAY. And it seems that strategy paid off. And that . . . was the true victory of the day.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
The "Butterflood" Ride
February 19, 2011, was thus far my most miserable bike ride.
It was a weekend of heavy storms in Southern California. And I had the Camino Real ("Butterfield") Double Century to do. The ride would start in Irvine, head south to Oceanside, inland towards Fallbrook, and then back to Irvine via Rancho Santa Margarita and Tustin.
The ride started at 6:15am. For the first time, I decided to leave in the "regular" group versus the "early starters" group, since I was getting more confident in my abilities. The first couple of hours were pretty good. No rain. And I was riding strong. But then as I got into San Clemente on the Pacific Coast Highway, it started to rain. And I knew it was coming because I could see the route going right underneath the rain cloud.
The rain lasted for about 20 minutes, but didn't completely soak me. A group of other riders caught up with me, and I decided to ride with them since navigating through the residential area of San Clemente, as many riders know, can be tricky. So I stuck with them through the rest of San Clemente. Just before the second rest stop, it started to pour, this time soaking me. Fortunately, though, I could see blue sky off in the distance, and I knew that it was headed our way. So I at least knew relief was on the way. At Rest Stop 2, the blue sky started to wander in, which was good because soon we would be riding over 7 miles on the I-5 freeway.
We headed south some more on the San Onofre Bike Path, and biked through a huge mud puddle on our way to Las Pulgas Road. No rain, so I'm thinking to myself, good, since we're about to go on the freeway. I spoke too soon . . .
I got on the I-5 freeway, and things were going okay for a while. (Just an aside, here, bicyclists, by law, are supposed to exit at the rest stop along the freeway, go through it, and then rejoin the freeway. I saw a few cyclists ignore that, cut in front of exiting cars, and ride in the "prohibited" zone on the freeway. I mean, come on, can't you read the road signs and route sheet?! That pissed me off.) But after rejoining the freeway after the rest stop, it started to rain. Hard. And I'm thinking, "This is scary." Poor visibility, wet roads, semi-trucks driving over 65mph right next to me. This is dangerous. Fortunately, freeways have wide shoulders. But then, some car in front of me decided to park on the freeway shoulder, blocking our path of the freeway. Some poor rider in front of me had to brake suddenly and ended up slipping and falling on her bike. Fortunately, she was okay. But I wanted to beat the crap out of the idiot who stopped on the freeway shoulder. To be safe, me and the two other riders with me decided to "walk" around the asshole who stopped. I glared at him as I walked by.
And of course, the rain stopped just as we exited the freeway in Oceanside.
We took the San Luis Rey bike path inland towards Bonsall. And even though the bike path is supposedly flat, I started "hitting a wall" with my riding. I don't know if it was cross wind, or I was just tired (probably both), so I slowed down and decided to take it easy. After all, I still had about 140 miles to go. So I rode at an easy pace all the way to Bonsall and then to the lunch stop near the Lawrence Welk resort. It was mile 87, and I still feeling pretty good.
After lunch, we ascended Circle R Road up to the famous Lilac Road. I was going strong and feeling pretty good. I hit some technical turns and countersteered through them like a pro! I then hit the descent down Old Higway 395, which I hate because it has so many bumps, cracks and debris. And with the wet roads, I knew debris would just stick to my tire. I rolled right over glass at about 35mph, and I was thinking to myself, "Oh great! Here comes a flat tire." Fortunately, it didn't happen. I stayed strong, even on the awful, awful Reche Road ascents in Fallbrook. I had a nice descent down Green Canyon Road (except for my chain dropping). But then when I hit Mission Road, once again I "hit a wall".
I thought to myself, "I need to take in some more fluid and electrolytes." So I did. And I decided to back off as I rode down North River Road. I was going at what felt like a snail's pace. Then when I got back on the San Luis Rey bike path (heading the other direction this time), I got hit by lots of headwind (which I expected because it's always like that heading west on that bike path). I was rapidly losing strength and energy, and was starting to get whiny, so I just stopped, got off my bike, ate some peanuts (salt and protein), downed some fluid electrolyes, and said to myself, "Next rest stop, I need to eat." I crawled along 2 more miles to the next rest stop, and ate lots of food.
We had two more miles of headwind before we would veer north. So I decided to tail behind another group of riders to catch their draft. And that worked fine until we got into Oceanside. But as we headed north, and I tried to keep up with them, all of a sudden my legs just stopped working. They said, "Ok, Brian! We've had enough. We're shutting down. If you're not going to listen to us, we're going to take over matters!" It was lactic acid. I pushed so hard keeping up with the other riders, I reached my lactic acid threshold, and my legs were just too tired.
For a moment, I thought to myself, "That's it! I can't go anymore. I'm not going to be able to finish this ride." And I really felt that way. But then I came to my senses, and decided to do something better. Instead, I slowed down. A lot. Down to my lower aerobic zone. Instead of just stopping the ride, I decided it was better for me to keep moving at an effortless pace, for a couple of reasons: (1) it would work the lactic acid out of my legs, (2) I would still get my rest and (3) I would still progress on the course. So I did that. And after only about 15 minutes, I started to regain my strength and get back to a more normal pace.
That right there, regardless of how much rain I would endure and how slow I would finish the course, was my biggest victory: overcoming fatigue to keeping doing what I needed to do.
I was on the I-5 again, heading north this time. And once again, a damned car parked right on the shoulder. But this time, it was a police car that had pulled over another vehicle. I carefully passed the police car, toeing the white line and hoping the officer wouldn't decide to open the car door while I was passing. But I think the officer knew I was there and was waiting for me to pass. I went through the rest stop, and as I was reentering the freeway there was a SAG vehicle on the shoulder helping a group of riders out. But it did not look like an official SAG vehicle; it looked more like a private SAG vehicle. And private SAG vehicles were not allowed on this event. Especially since they were blocking the shoulder to the freeway. If that was a private SAG, then I hope they got caught and dequeued for it, because it pissed me off that, once again, a vehicle was blocking the freeway shoulder. (Now, if it was an official SAG vehicle, it would have been a different story.)
For the last few hours up to this point, there had been no rain. Unfortuantely, as I looked to the west, I could see heavy storm clouds heading in. And there were no breaks in them, so it looked like we would be getting a very wet night. I had no idea at the time how right I would end up being . . .
I reached Rest Stop 5, got my "brevet" card stamped, used the much-needed restroom, had some salted potatoes (salt and potassium), and headed on out. At this point, I was feeling stronger, and I wanted to keep moving because I knew what was coming . . .
As I entered San Clemente, it started to sprinkle a little. Then as I descended Ave Pico towards PCH, it started to POUR. And I mean, REALLY POUR. And since I was going about 30 mph, the rain drops stung my face. It almost felt like hail.
Another rider (who was much faster than me), decided to ride behind me and let me lead the way. He asked if it was okay, and told him I had no problem with that. Misery likes company! As I was talking to him, he told me this was his first double century. I congratulated him, and later asked him if he would ever do another one again!
He and I rode together along PCH in San Clemente. At this point it was pouring like crazy. We were both completely soaked. I navigated him through the tricky San Juan Capistrano. The rain stopped for a bit and he thanked me and pulled off to rest. I kept going.
I climbed the long Marguerite Parkway hill in Mission Viejo to Crown Valley Parkway, and then did the 6 mile climb up Antonio Parkway to Rancho Santa Margarita. It was nighttime at this point, I was wet, and it was getting cold. Rain was off and on. I eventually finished the long climb and did the sharp descent down Trabuco Canyon Road to Rest Stop 6. I got off my bike. I was freezing, wet and hungry. Thank God for Cup-O-Noodles (hot sodium)!
The wonderful volunteers at Rest Stop 6 had a propane-fueled camp heater going. All of us cyclists were crowded around it, because we were freezing. But I knew I only had 26 more miles to go, and I wanted to be done with this ride. So I hopped back on my bike. The same person who followed me earlier asked if he could ride with me again. And I said, "Of course!" So we headed out.
As soon as I started riding, my body started shivering like crazy and my teeth started chattering. All this despite the fact that I had three layers on already. But thank goodness there were some steep climbs coming up, because I knew that my body would warm up while pushing up the hills. (When you're cold, you welcome tough climbs!) I pushed really hard up the approximately 18% grades on Live Oak Canyon Road, followed by a freezing descent down to Santiago Canyon Road.
We then headed north on Santiago Canyon Road. And after about 2 miles, the rain started coming down again. Hard! Freezing, drenched, dark and poor visibility from the heavy rain, I kept pushing forward towards civilization (since we were in the rural parts of Orange County now). But I had to endure 10 miles before I would reach North Tustin.
I got into North Tustin, turned onto Jamboree Road, and the heavy downpour got even worse. It became very hard to see. And I was shivering and my teeth were chattering. I was truly miserable at this point, and felt the start of hypothermia. I felt like pulling over and hiding under a tree. But then I would just get even colder, and I would still remain wet. Besides, I only had about 9 miles left on the course. So I just kept pushing, hoping I would survive. Maybe I would be lucky and the rain would let up at some point. Or maybe it wouldn't.
Well, the rain did eventually cease for a moment once I turned onto Portola Parkway. 6 miles left and I just kept pushing as hard as I could go (mostly because I wanted to stay warm). My violent shivering and teeth chattering stopped, and were replaced by me bitching about every red light I hit on Sand Canyon Avenue. But this was it; the final stretch! Much to my pleasure, the Sand Canyon Avenue stretch was a lot shorter than I thought it would be, because in no time I saw the I-5 freeway, and right after it the finish line. Even better, there were cars in the left turn lane at the light so I would not have to wait endlessly at the light waiting for a green arrow. Soaked and freezing, I pulled into the hotel conference area and gave the ride official my rider number.
My time was a disappointing (at least to me): 15 hours and 13 minutes. My goal was to finish the course in under 14 hours. But, I took heart in the fact that my time was 28 minutes better than when I did the course last year. And conditions were far worse this year.
My clothes were completely soaked. I climbed into my truck, shivering again, and changed back into dry clothes, socks and shoes. I mean, my clothes were so wet it was as if they had just come out of the wash without a spin cycle! I then used the hotel lobby bathroom; got back in the truck; downed two protein shakes; stopped by Jack in the Box for a good old fashioned double-hamburger, fries and soda (hey, I earned it); turned on Lady GaGa's Born This Way, and drove back to San Diego.
As I reflected on this ride, I realized something. I wasn't hydrating nor eating enough. And the reason was the rain. With the rain, I didn't want to stop and try to pull out food. I was more focused on just getting the ride over with and getting out of the misery of being wet. And if I had stopped I would have gotten cold. And with all my layers on it was difficult to reach into pockets to pull out food (even though I had plenty of food with me). But even when getting soaked by rain, I still need to remember to keep eating and hydrating. I cannot let uncomfortable conditions detract from me fueling my body. I think that was the one mistake I made. I need to remember next time, when it rains, snows, hails . . . whatever, to still keep hydrating and eating. Because I'm not going to stay hydrated through osmosis!
I reaffirmed something else. When my legs get too tired, I don't need to stop. In fact, if I am on a flat road, downhill or mild grade, I should just slow down and ride at an easy effort. That will work the lactic acid out of my legs, and keep me moving along the course while getting the rest I need. And I'll regain my strength.
So despite my slower-than-desired time, I am happy with the fact that I conquered the challenges of Mother Nature and lactic acid!
It was a weekend of heavy storms in Southern California. And I had the Camino Real ("Butterfield") Double Century to do. The ride would start in Irvine, head south to Oceanside, inland towards Fallbrook, and then back to Irvine via Rancho Santa Margarita and Tustin.
The ride started at 6:15am. For the first time, I decided to leave in the "regular" group versus the "early starters" group, since I was getting more confident in my abilities. The first couple of hours were pretty good. No rain. And I was riding strong. But then as I got into San Clemente on the Pacific Coast Highway, it started to rain. And I knew it was coming because I could see the route going right underneath the rain cloud.
The rain lasted for about 20 minutes, but didn't completely soak me. A group of other riders caught up with me, and I decided to ride with them since navigating through the residential area of San Clemente, as many riders know, can be tricky. So I stuck with them through the rest of San Clemente. Just before the second rest stop, it started to pour, this time soaking me. Fortunately, though, I could see blue sky off in the distance, and I knew that it was headed our way. So I at least knew relief was on the way. At Rest Stop 2, the blue sky started to wander in, which was good because soon we would be riding over 7 miles on the I-5 freeway.
We headed south some more on the San Onofre Bike Path, and biked through a huge mud puddle on our way to Las Pulgas Road. No rain, so I'm thinking to myself, good, since we're about to go on the freeway. I spoke too soon . . .
I got on the I-5 freeway, and things were going okay for a while. (Just an aside, here, bicyclists, by law, are supposed to exit at the rest stop along the freeway, go through it, and then rejoin the freeway. I saw a few cyclists ignore that, cut in front of exiting cars, and ride in the "prohibited" zone on the freeway. I mean, come on, can't you read the road signs and route sheet?! That pissed me off.) But after rejoining the freeway after the rest stop, it started to rain. Hard. And I'm thinking, "This is scary." Poor visibility, wet roads, semi-trucks driving over 65mph right next to me. This is dangerous. Fortunately, freeways have wide shoulders. But then, some car in front of me decided to park on the freeway shoulder, blocking our path of the freeway. Some poor rider in front of me had to brake suddenly and ended up slipping and falling on her bike. Fortunately, she was okay. But I wanted to beat the crap out of the idiot who stopped on the freeway shoulder. To be safe, me and the two other riders with me decided to "walk" around the asshole who stopped. I glared at him as I walked by.
And of course, the rain stopped just as we exited the freeway in Oceanside.
We took the San Luis Rey bike path inland towards Bonsall. And even though the bike path is supposedly flat, I started "hitting a wall" with my riding. I don't know if it was cross wind, or I was just tired (probably both), so I slowed down and decided to take it easy. After all, I still had about 140 miles to go. So I rode at an easy pace all the way to Bonsall and then to the lunch stop near the Lawrence Welk resort. It was mile 87, and I still feeling pretty good.
After lunch, we ascended Circle R Road up to the famous Lilac Road. I was going strong and feeling pretty good. I hit some technical turns and countersteered through them like a pro! I then hit the descent down Old Higway 395, which I hate because it has so many bumps, cracks and debris. And with the wet roads, I knew debris would just stick to my tire. I rolled right over glass at about 35mph, and I was thinking to myself, "Oh great! Here comes a flat tire." Fortunately, it didn't happen. I stayed strong, even on the awful, awful Reche Road ascents in Fallbrook. I had a nice descent down Green Canyon Road (except for my chain dropping). But then when I hit Mission Road, once again I "hit a wall".
I thought to myself, "I need to take in some more fluid and electrolytes." So I did. And I decided to back off as I rode down North River Road. I was going at what felt like a snail's pace. Then when I got back on the San Luis Rey bike path (heading the other direction this time), I got hit by lots of headwind (which I expected because it's always like that heading west on that bike path). I was rapidly losing strength and energy, and was starting to get whiny, so I just stopped, got off my bike, ate some peanuts (salt and protein), downed some fluid electrolyes, and said to myself, "Next rest stop, I need to eat." I crawled along 2 more miles to the next rest stop, and ate lots of food.
We had two more miles of headwind before we would veer north. So I decided to tail behind another group of riders to catch their draft. And that worked fine until we got into Oceanside. But as we headed north, and I tried to keep up with them, all of a sudden my legs just stopped working. They said, "Ok, Brian! We've had enough. We're shutting down. If you're not going to listen to us, we're going to take over matters!" It was lactic acid. I pushed so hard keeping up with the other riders, I reached my lactic acid threshold, and my legs were just too tired.
For a moment, I thought to myself, "That's it! I can't go anymore. I'm not going to be able to finish this ride." And I really felt that way. But then I came to my senses, and decided to do something better. Instead, I slowed down. A lot. Down to my lower aerobic zone. Instead of just stopping the ride, I decided it was better for me to keep moving at an effortless pace, for a couple of reasons: (1) it would work the lactic acid out of my legs, (2) I would still get my rest and (3) I would still progress on the course. So I did that. And after only about 15 minutes, I started to regain my strength and get back to a more normal pace.
That right there, regardless of how much rain I would endure and how slow I would finish the course, was my biggest victory: overcoming fatigue to keeping doing what I needed to do.
I was on the I-5 again, heading north this time. And once again, a damned car parked right on the shoulder. But this time, it was a police car that had pulled over another vehicle. I carefully passed the police car, toeing the white line and hoping the officer wouldn't decide to open the car door while I was passing. But I think the officer knew I was there and was waiting for me to pass. I went through the rest stop, and as I was reentering the freeway there was a SAG vehicle on the shoulder helping a group of riders out. But it did not look like an official SAG vehicle; it looked more like a private SAG vehicle. And private SAG vehicles were not allowed on this event. Especially since they were blocking the shoulder to the freeway. If that was a private SAG, then I hope they got caught and dequeued for it, because it pissed me off that, once again, a vehicle was blocking the freeway shoulder. (Now, if it was an official SAG vehicle, it would have been a different story.)
For the last few hours up to this point, there had been no rain. Unfortuantely, as I looked to the west, I could see heavy storm clouds heading in. And there were no breaks in them, so it looked like we would be getting a very wet night. I had no idea at the time how right I would end up being . . .
I reached Rest Stop 5, got my "brevet" card stamped, used the much-needed restroom, had some salted potatoes (salt and potassium), and headed on out. At this point, I was feeling stronger, and I wanted to keep moving because I knew what was coming . . .
As I entered San Clemente, it started to sprinkle a little. Then as I descended Ave Pico towards PCH, it started to POUR. And I mean, REALLY POUR. And since I was going about 30 mph, the rain drops stung my face. It almost felt like hail.
Another rider (who was much faster than me), decided to ride behind me and let me lead the way. He asked if it was okay, and told him I had no problem with that. Misery likes company! As I was talking to him, he told me this was his first double century. I congratulated him, and later asked him if he would ever do another one again!
He and I rode together along PCH in San Clemente. At this point it was pouring like crazy. We were both completely soaked. I navigated him through the tricky San Juan Capistrano. The rain stopped for a bit and he thanked me and pulled off to rest. I kept going.
I climbed the long Marguerite Parkway hill in Mission Viejo to Crown Valley Parkway, and then did the 6 mile climb up Antonio Parkway to Rancho Santa Margarita. It was nighttime at this point, I was wet, and it was getting cold. Rain was off and on. I eventually finished the long climb and did the sharp descent down Trabuco Canyon Road to Rest Stop 6. I got off my bike. I was freezing, wet and hungry. Thank God for Cup-O-Noodles (hot sodium)!
The wonderful volunteers at Rest Stop 6 had a propane-fueled camp heater going. All of us cyclists were crowded around it, because we were freezing. But I knew I only had 26 more miles to go, and I wanted to be done with this ride. So I hopped back on my bike. The same person who followed me earlier asked if he could ride with me again. And I said, "Of course!" So we headed out.
As soon as I started riding, my body started shivering like crazy and my teeth started chattering. All this despite the fact that I had three layers on already. But thank goodness there were some steep climbs coming up, because I knew that my body would warm up while pushing up the hills. (When you're cold, you welcome tough climbs!) I pushed really hard up the approximately 18% grades on Live Oak Canyon Road, followed by a freezing descent down to Santiago Canyon Road.
We then headed north on Santiago Canyon Road. And after about 2 miles, the rain started coming down again. Hard! Freezing, drenched, dark and poor visibility from the heavy rain, I kept pushing forward towards civilization (since we were in the rural parts of Orange County now). But I had to endure 10 miles before I would reach North Tustin.
I got into North Tustin, turned onto Jamboree Road, and the heavy downpour got even worse. It became very hard to see. And I was shivering and my teeth were chattering. I was truly miserable at this point, and felt the start of hypothermia. I felt like pulling over and hiding under a tree. But then I would just get even colder, and I would still remain wet. Besides, I only had about 9 miles left on the course. So I just kept pushing, hoping I would survive. Maybe I would be lucky and the rain would let up at some point. Or maybe it wouldn't.
Well, the rain did eventually cease for a moment once I turned onto Portola Parkway. 6 miles left and I just kept pushing as hard as I could go (mostly because I wanted to stay warm). My violent shivering and teeth chattering stopped, and were replaced by me bitching about every red light I hit on Sand Canyon Avenue. But this was it; the final stretch! Much to my pleasure, the Sand Canyon Avenue stretch was a lot shorter than I thought it would be, because in no time I saw the I-5 freeway, and right after it the finish line. Even better, there were cars in the left turn lane at the light so I would not have to wait endlessly at the light waiting for a green arrow. Soaked and freezing, I pulled into the hotel conference area and gave the ride official my rider number.
My time was a disappointing (at least to me): 15 hours and 13 minutes. My goal was to finish the course in under 14 hours. But, I took heart in the fact that my time was 28 minutes better than when I did the course last year. And conditions were far worse this year.
My clothes were completely soaked. I climbed into my truck, shivering again, and changed back into dry clothes, socks and shoes. I mean, my clothes were so wet it was as if they had just come out of the wash without a spin cycle! I then used the hotel lobby bathroom; got back in the truck; downed two protein shakes; stopped by Jack in the Box for a good old fashioned double-hamburger, fries and soda (hey, I earned it); turned on Lady GaGa's Born This Way, and drove back to San Diego.
As I reflected on this ride, I realized something. I wasn't hydrating nor eating enough. And the reason was the rain. With the rain, I didn't want to stop and try to pull out food. I was more focused on just getting the ride over with and getting out of the misery of being wet. And if I had stopped I would have gotten cold. And with all my layers on it was difficult to reach into pockets to pull out food (even though I had plenty of food with me). But even when getting soaked by rain, I still need to remember to keep eating and hydrating. I cannot let uncomfortable conditions detract from me fueling my body. I think that was the one mistake I made. I need to remember next time, when it rains, snows, hails . . . whatever, to still keep hydrating and eating. Because I'm not going to stay hydrated through osmosis!
I reaffirmed something else. When my legs get too tired, I don't need to stop. In fact, if I am on a flat road, downhill or mild grade, I should just slow down and ride at an easy effort. That will work the lactic acid out of my legs, and keep me moving along the course while getting the rest I need. And I'll regain my strength.
So despite my slower-than-desired time, I am happy with the fact that I conquered the challenges of Mother Nature and lactic acid!
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