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Cutting Room Floor

 The original manuscript included a general overview of my training to achieve the cross-country ride, then this more detailed reporting of those same training rides.  It was redundant and a bit of over-kill, but for cyclists really interested, and especially those in Central Texas who might enjoy reading about some of their favorite rides, I post it here. 

Mid April Report

April saw my progress jump. Already I had more saddle time than all of March. Mid-month I did seventy-five miles on a Saturday. The stiff wind countered the enjoyment of the sun and blue sky, buffeting me around a mite. The plan called for eighty miles, but traffic built up early, so I cut out a particularly hazardous portion of the ride and called it a day.

Easter Sunday morning I did the 360 Loop, which consists of forty-three miles and twenty-two climbs, eight of which are significant. After thirty-five miles I faced the three-tiered Mansfield Dam-Steiner Ranch hill. This always is a barometer of my state of readiness. The "pop" in the legs had taken a vacation and the hills seemed steeper, perhaps because of the wind. However, like any loop, what wind is against you in one direction is for you in the other. Since this whole ride has hills, my thirteen minutes slower than usual didn't depress me because most of that was due to a couple of extra stops. All in all, this could be considered an excellent cycling weekend.

Recovery felt good. Almost immediately after stopping I felt fine, although my heart rate monitor told me it took a whole nine minutes to recover. (Feeling good can sometimes be deceiving, which is why I now use a heart rate monitor. Usually recovery is in the two-to-three-minute range.) I had more and more difficulty getting into the Zone 4 category and prescribed more time on the rollers, trying to get even a few minutes into the higher zone.

I had high hopes when reading Sally Edwards' The Heart Rate Monitor Guidebook to Heart Zone Training. In a nutshell, she has five zones, at 10% increments based on your maximum heart rate: one being a walking pace to five, which is above your lactic-acid threshold (that turning point when your body can no longer dispose of the excess lactic acid and your muscles no longer perform optimally). However, lactic-acid threshold  is an imprecise and perhaps by now an obsolete term. For more information on the topic, refer to reputable online sources.  The longer you can train your body to stay in Zone 5, Edwards explained, the better you can perform. On my rollers, I could achieve Zone 5 and extended my time from thirty seconds to a minute, with a two-minute goal. I could tell my fitness was improving. Zone 4 is the optimum racing/riding area. I found that I could sustain my goals on the rollers, but when it came to real on-road riding, I couldn't push my heart rate up (or to put it another way, I was unwilling to exhaust myself to achieve the strength necessary).  Give me a break I'm an old man, let the young guys do it. Today, I still track my heart rate, but no longer train by it.

THE PERFECT DAY (April 29)

It has been my experience that when you are extending yourself in practice for the first time, it is best to have optimal weather conditions in order to better focus on the exertion. Therefore when the weather forecast appeared favorable, I planned my first  one hundred-mile ride of the year.

The morning started out at 48° and no wind. Fortunately, my plan called for a departure around 9 a.m., after school started and traffic had become lighter. By then it had warmed to 60°, the sun rose nicely, no clouds, no wind. I cycled through the neighborhoods heading east, then north, and it wasn't long until I was into the country and on empty county roads. I planned to generally follow the map, mostly on unfamiliar roads, which should give me the one hundred mile goal, but other than that, the resting, eating, and speed or time remained unstructured. I felt entirely at ease and powerful, not straining at 17mph.

I stopped to check the map and when I looked down, found a very large,  friendly dog wanting to be petted. So I did. The next three or four dogs were not even close to friendly, but at least they stayed to the side of the road to chase and they stopped at their property line. Somewhere, as can sometimes happen, I missed a right turn and managed to be riding on the wrong road. The road had recently been paved, had wide shoulders, little traffic and after about fifteen minutes of enjoyment I came to my senses. Again consulting the map, rather than turn around, I just kept on going and ended up in Jonah.

Unbelievably, I had come this way (but that time it was planned) about four years earlier, only recognizing the road when I came to the stop sign. The penalty for this map error: having to ride Highway 29 for about half an hour. The traffic sporadically came by, but the vehicles were mostly cable dumps exceeding the speed limit. I also added about five miles to the planned trip. Other than the trucks, the ride proved uneventful and Hwy 95 came as expected, turned right for a short period and then left onto 1331 and found myself back on plan, taking me east, on the south side of Granger Lake.

The wind increased now up to a gentle breeze and felt quite pleasant, out of the southeast. I happily turned left toward the dam, and just before crossing it, stopped for lunch. A cherry pie thingy and Fig Newtons run up about five hundred calories and are fairly easy on my stomach. Generally, no matter how long the ride, I only eat enough to get me through, then chow down seriously afterward.

The break only lasted ten minutes, and then I mounted up and rode over the dam, and another left turn toward the town of Granger. The wind increased a little, but now hit my back. The sun continued bright, although not hot, in the clear blue sky. Couldn't ask for better conditions! At Granger, I headed out on CR 300. This turned out to be very nice and smooth, plus with the wind at my back, I found myself cruising at 20mph.

The map indicated CR 300 stopped at a highway, about a half mile down the road starting up again on the other side. When I came to the appointed place, the road had a different number on it. Again I consulted the map, but concluded the road went in the direction I had planned, so I wouldn't worry about the number. All this time, I had these roads to myself. After a while I came to a road that appeared to be correctly shown on the map and took it, leading to a junction giving me my bearings once again.

I now headed west toward the Interstate. One more intersection and a stop for map consultation. This time I knew my location and it became a matter of deciding what kind of total mileage I wanted and what time of day to finish. The right fork would take me to Salado and probably 110 miles. The left fork went to Jarrell and between ninety and ninety-five miles. The friendly wind would be in my face once I got to either of the towns. I opted for Jarrell since I am conservative in nature (chicken) and for my first trip of more than seventy-five miles I wanted it to be successful.

The rest of the ride proved uneventful. Once in Jarrell I returned to my regular route and turned left on the interstate access road. Surprisingly, the wind did not hit me full in the face, so I kept up my speed. Back through the neighborhoods, through town with the wind at my back, back to the house without incident. What a ride --  ninety-five miles, and I wasn't tired or sore!

The Hill Country Challenge, May

The morning radar did not look promising, with possible thunderstorms coming down from the north. However, I prepared to go the forty-five minutes drive to the starting line. I had my bagels and OJ and left home. It still didn't look good when I got there, and my enthusiasm had taken a siesta. I called home a couple of times to get new radar positions, but Marilane said it looked like it would stay west, so I signed up and got ready. The itinerary showed the long trip at 105 miles.

There were a lot of people riding, but when they called the one hundred milers to the line, only about twenty of us moved. The rest rode the shorter distances. We were off on time, the pace higher than what I wanted. I didn't want to fall off the back right from the beginning so I hung in there for about thirty minutes, but gradually at each hill, a few more folks dropped. I had not planned to stop at the first rest stop, but did, just to gather myself. I got back on the road, with a handful of others, and we apparently immediately missed a turn. Six miles later, we knew we had blown it, when we found ourselves only about a mile from the starting line!

Most of the group backtracked, but two ladies (Andrea and Carol) and I checked the map and found that by taking Hwy 29 to Bertram from Liberty Hill, we could get to the next stop at about the correct distance, instead of ten miles or so behind. This turned out to be a good decision because traffic was very light at this time of morning and they very kindly moved to the inside lane, giving us a hassle-free ride to the rest stop.

At the next stop we again referred to the map and saw that we could make up some more miles by again leaving the course. This time we let the ride leader know what we were doing and set off. I don't understand people who cannot follow a road map (I'm a little more lenient about topicals). They are so useful both for finding where you are and for being flexible about where you are going.

The ladies' pace was about the same as mine, but they took the hills better, so as the miles rolled by, I would be continue to drop behind. When it got to be about a minute, they would stop at a rest stop. When we arrived in Burnet, Andrea said they needed to make up some time because she had a children's party to attend in the afternoon. Another map check found an additional five-mile savings by taking an alternate route, so we did, and again found the road to be good, plus putting us back on time.

So far, we were about sixty miles into the ride, and the weather had been quite pleasant. However, in another five miles it started to cloud up. The next rest stop happened at around the seventy-mile mark. The ladies decided to have no more stops, although my plan included one around ninety miles. It started to sprinkle. We came to a couple of really steep climbs. One took all of my gears and the highest heart rate my monitor had ever seen! But this climb played to my strength and the three of us crested the hill together. It only took thirty seconds before my breath returned to normal.

The ladies, however,  increased their pace, and it started to rain.  After a few miles I had to stop to wipe the stinging sun-block sweat out of one of my eyes. (Henceforth, I never put sun block above or next to my eyes.) Naturally, they were a quarter mile ahead before I got my sunglasses and helmet back on. I returned to trying to keep them in sight. The rain had me fairly wet.  Moose was not happy, but the bike performed well (this was a new bike, purchased strictly for the upcoming trip). Arriving back at Liberty Hill, I missed the final turn and went through town. There, at the red light, were Carol and Andrea who had done the same thing. We checked the map for the last time, saw what needed to be done, and made the last three miles back to the high school.

The rain clouds had not come into town: the streets were dry. The final mileage turned out to be ninety-five. My average speed registered a phenomenal 16.7 mph. Time out of the saddle exceeded what I had planned, but with so many wrong turns and map consultations, plus good riding companions (a loose term, since most of the time we were not within shouting distance); this turned out to be a really good tune-up ride.

A further word about my new bike. It was designed and built to be a Clydesdale type, carrying enough gear for a self-supporting tourist (tent, sleeping and camping gear, clothes, etc.).  To support all the weight, the wheels and tires are heavy-duty. I planned to train the whole time in my "big" tires then switch to smaller ones for the trip. My theory was similar to ballplayers swinging two bats or putting a weight on the end and swinging it just before coming to the plate. However, the combination of weight and road surface friction is a large energy eater, and this ride convinced me to abandon that plan. I finished the rest of my training happily spinning in 120 psi, 700x28 Continentals. This is a compromise size, in that I normally run 700x23.

ROLLING HILLS, May

The culmination of my training occurred on a weekend of back-to-back centuries. I had done the 100km version of this ride the two previous years, and enjoyed them. The Lions Club really puts on a well-supported ride from Columbus through Fayette to Round Top and back down in a zig-zaggy course. The two-hour car ride to get there meant leaving the house at 4:45 a.m.

Around Smithville I started running into some fog. Check-in proved fast and easy. I took my time putting on the sun block and getting ready. Moose grumbled about napping in the truck while I rode, but I left the Camelbak and depended on the rest stops for refreshment.

At 7:30 a.m. one of the riders said "It's 7:30, let's go," and off we went, no formal start to it. Fog and glasses do not go well together. Fortunately, it lifted a little later and not long after that I dried out. I planned to take it easy and keep my mind on the next day. For the most part I puttered along around 15mph, breezed past the first stop and kept on peddling. The ride is aptly named. None of the hills were steep, but it seemed like they never stopped. One particular rider would put me behind going down, but I traded places with him on the climb. After a while I lost track of him.

The sun came out about 9:30 a.m., and I had another pleasant day of riding. Not much wind, just up and down the hills, stopping at all of the other rest stops, which turned out to be eight. Some of the roads were in the process of being resurfaced and became quite rough. Others should have been, because they were very rough. At about seventy miles the land flattened out and soon we crossed I-10 to the south and turned into a slight wind. The guy with whom I played tag earlier in the ride caught up with me, and we rode together about fifteen miles, then he moved on up about a minute. But by then we were only two miles from the finish. An uneventful ride, 102 miles, stopping in the small towns I hear about but never get off the highway to see, enjoying the minimal vehicular activity that rural roads provide.

THE NEXT DAY

Again the morning started off foggy, but more dense, thus I became more wet. This time I cycled from home, doing my normal seventy-mile route and adding on to it. I left at 6:30 a.m. heading north. Two hours and fifteen minutes later I gained the turn-around spot, having stopped once to wipe off my glasses. Again, the fog lifted about the time I stopped, so this time I did a thorough cleaning of the glasses. Moose was wet and didn't like the spray off the tire. (My fenders were not yet installed.)

I noticed a serious lack of heart rate! It registered about twenty beats per minute low. Oops! Maybe I went harder yesterday than I thought. But my speed continued to hold and I detected no struggling. By now the weather could get no better. Most of my active thoughts were how to stretch another twenty miles onto the ride. I detest backtracking and wanted to be closer to home should I run out of steam or the weather turn ugly earlier than the late afternoon forecast had indicated.

Now back close to home I headed east on a road I usually avoided. Traffic had not yet built up and the one hill was a good workout. I enjoyed myself so much on this stretch that rather than continue east I just looped about four times, thus getting in my twenty miles and four good hill climbs. The penalty for not having a good hundred mile route is doing the same scenery over and over. I have one for weekdays, but due to traffic heading to the lake, it is not safe for Sunday. In any case, in view of the heart rate and the route, I packed it in at ninety miles. This time, instead of getting in the car and driving two hours, I got into a hot shower.

The time for my self-supported ninety miles was within two minutes of the 102-mile ride the day before. I didn't feel fatigued but did not want to push until I was. The goal had been met, and I was ready!

360 LOOP

This time I counted the climbs. Raincreek Parkway has two very steep climbs. The whole loop, forty-three miles, has seventeen climbs (two of which are three tiered). Of the seventeen, five could be described as serious workouts. After taking two days off, I again left Moose behind to see if I could better my time. The hills did not seem as difficult Wednesday morning. Even Raincreek Parkway left me with a gear in reserve. Out on 360, going by Great Hills Baptist Church, I wasn't even into my granny gear (small chain ring). Several weeks earlier I had to use all the gears. Bee Caves Road was not the challenge it had been previously, and when I turned east (or north) onto RM 620 I had the wind at my back! I didn't need to, but since I had planned a short stop at Lake Travis Middle School, I took about two minutes, and then enjoyed the wind.

I was movin'!! In no time, I passed Hudson's on the Bend, and up and over the dam. But of course, once over, more up awaited. This is not the same challenge with the wind behind you, but still a healthy workout. You have a short distance to recover then up again past Steiner Ranch, then the sprint to Anderson Mill Road. The goal is to get there before the traffic builds up for lunch. Travis County has a nice wide shoulder, but Williamson does not. Then it is through Anderson Mill and Balcones back to Spicewood Springs Road. My time showed ten minutes faster than my previous best. Yes, I really am ready!!