Tri RobbyB Tri :: Bike

Although work has been crazy busy (in Florida last week, going to Cali this week), I'm liking the ability to train. Saturday, I covered 5.6 miles in 57 minutes on a 4:1 minute run:walk ratio. And then this afternoon, I went OUTSIDE for a ride. At 35 minutes in, I paused contemplating whether to continue and find a extended loop, which would push me beyond current comfort levels. Or, return home safely and comfortably on the route I took out. Like Robert Frost, I continued on, letting myself discover my own path. I found a Rustic Road with a few bumps to keep me honest and lots of open fields and fresh air. When I got home, I was surprised with the results: 30 miles covered in about 1 hour, 45 minutes. Nice! I knew there was a good reason I keep doing this.

The day dawned beautifully. Sunny and potentially warm. I switched my long run and bike just so I could avoid biking in the rain on Saturday. (Luckily, I ran during the only hour and half that it didn't rain.) It was sunny as I ate my breakfast and I was getting more and more excited for my first outdoor ride of 2007. I got ready, clouds thickened, so I gathered some extra layers just in case. A line of storms was heading towards us, but I had enough time to get out and back b1fore it hit. The last thing Kris says to me as I leave is, "The storm is at the county line." Shit. That won't leave much time. I go anyway.

It was windy (as expected) the entire way out. At times, I was leaning diagonally into the wind to stay upright. If I didn't, I would've gotten in the way of vehicles. It was a constant battle as I weaved down the shoulder of county Highway T. At Highway N. I stop for a bite to eat and the bathroom. Now I'm biking directly into the wind, going slower than ever before. As I get to highway BB, the first drop hits. I'm know the furthest point on the loop, and must ride the entire way back in the rain.

In the rain, I thought little about my misery but rather focused on how hard it must've been to ride 112 miles in this crap. It was the exact same conditions: rain, wind and mid-50 temps. My respect for all those that did Ironman Wisconsin in 2006 grew as every rain drop pelted my face, and every grit of sand got in my teeth. I couldn't imagine going for a 2 mile run after my 21 mile ride, let alone 26.2 miles after a 112 mile ride.

Mad props to y'all.

When IronWil first announced she'd registered for Ironman Wisconsin, I immediately contacted her and invited her to Madison to check out the course. After some planning and a bunch of e-mails, the weekend was picked and an itinerary was set.

I was a bit nervous for my role in the weekend. I was playing host, offering my lone year in triathlons as "expert" experience. Thankfully, there were others, particularly Thomps and SimplyStu. Both had also completed several tris and IM WI in previous years and would be along for the ride. I was also a touch apprehensive because I knew the others only in digital form. Although lots get shared via blogs, that is only one part of the person. There's much more to a personality than a digital representation.

I met up with Stu and Jeff (Thomps) for dinner on Friday. Then SLS and her husband arrived from the Twin Cities. Then we waited. And waited. And waited. It was all good because the five of us shared lots of fun stories. And then the ladies showed up. In walked IronWil, TriSaraTops, and Elizabeth and took the place over. All had fun sharing stories of eating, training and fender-benders long into the evening.

Saturday morning would dawn bright, hot and windy. Perfect conditions for a training ride. Because, as tradition has it, Ironman Wisconsin tends to be on the hottest day of the summer. I met Thomps and the ladies at their hotel and we caravaned to Fireman's park in Verona. It traditionally is the base for all IM WI training rides, but IronWil thought (at first) it was all for the WIBA ride. Alas, not all 50+ riders were there for WIBA, but about 15 were. A very nice crew set out.

Based on a tip from Stu, we decided to visit the entire course, rather than do two loops. So, we set out for Madison on what I call the IronLink. In 2005, I rode the IronLink 20 times in various training rides. Seventeen were just the Link itself; the remaining three included rides with the loop (aka IronLoop) in some capacity. In 2006, I had only been on it once. It felt good to be back on the familiar course. We got ourselves a touch spread out, but were able rejoin as we reached Madison and the Monona Terrace. We spent some time staring up at the parking ramps, used on race day as the swim-in and bike-out & bike-in entrances to the transition area within the convention center. The lake lapped at the shores, begging the future Ironman competitors to go for a swim. And they will in two months. Defueled (we peed), we made our way back out to Verona to tackle the main section of the course, the IronLoop.

Now refueled, we set out for the hills on the Loop. Not too long into the ride, I get a call from IronWil. She took a digger and thought she was lost. A quick review of her turns got her back on course (she never left it) and then my phone froze. It didn't shut off or drop the call, it actually froze up. The screen froze, no buttons worked, no beeps, nothing. I checked the battery, took it out and put it back, but nothing came back on. So I turned back to see the group coming along. Phew. Now I was just down a phone. Who cares? Let's just keep riding. We got caught up at the next turn and made our way to Mt. Horeb. (You also might hear it as "Mt. Horrible.") Just a few rollers and then the long steady climb.

Wait, my phone's ringing...It's Stu! Turns out he missed us in Verona and now will meet us in Mt. Horeb. Sweet! (And good news that my phone works again!) Out next rest stop was at the Kwik Trip and featured another stop to record some audio and comment on Elizabeth's sweet purple helmet. She promised us a new one with a custom paint job was in the works. Stu added a huge spark to the group and the change in scenery from the valley to the hilltops wowed our flatland friends. Up and down the rollers along Witte Rd and the big descent on Garfoot Rd brought us into Cross Plains and our second rest stop.

Now the tough stuff. From Cross Plains, we turned south into the wind and heat. This is always the hottest part of the course. I could sense some tension rise as we talked about the hills to come. This next section has three: Old Sauk Pass, Timber Lane, and Mid-Town Rd. The first and longest is Old Sauk Pass, followed nearly immediately by Timber Lane. Back to back, this section is formally known as the Degree Toughest Section and draws the largest crowd (including the local Devil) next to the party held on Main Street in Verona. Everyone cruised right up the hills without any problems. We did run into some issues on Midtown Rd. It was recently chip sealed and the loose gravel proved to be a bit much for some of us and traction was lost.

Traction aside, it was amazing to see the confidence of SLS, IronWil and TriSaraTops grow as we announced there were no more hills. Like any good fish tale, with every thought of the course, the hills in their mind had grown to be insurmountable peaks that lift straight into the clouds. The weight of the course dropped off their shoulders as we cruised back into Verona. They knew they have the ability, strength and courage to complete the course.

Overall, I had a blast riding the course with everyone and it reaffirmed that having fun is just as important as any workout. When I'm asked how the Ironman was from me, I still surprise everyone by telling them that most of all, "I had fun." If I'm not having fun, it's not worth it. So, to those that spent the day together sweating, swearing and climbing the hills, thank you for reminding me that it's all about the fun. Amongst a hectic life, I've missed that this year and didn't even know it was gone.

My one last piece of advice for all those out competing, enjoy what you're doing. You're doing it because you choose to do so. You're doing it because someone told you you couldn't. You're doing because you saw someone else and said, "me, too." But most of all, I hope you to do it because you enjoy it. I know this group does.

Pictures from Steve (click on each for a description):

Heee hooo heee hooo heee hooo heee hooo heee hooo
THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP
Do we walk? NO! DO NOT WALK! one-two-three-four-five-one-two-three-four-five-

That's my breath, heart and mind as I struggle to climb the road into Blue Mounds State Park. It's the last climb of eighteen major climbs on the ~100K course. Sixty-seven miles in the searing heat of an early Wisconsin summer.

***

The Horribly Hilly Hundred's website advises that minimum gearing to complete the course should include a 27-tooth cog in the cassette. Many have attempted the course with mountain bike deraileurs and the third (or 'Granny') chainring in the front. All to provide as much mechanical advantage as possible to climb efficiently as possible.

Last week, I woke up early to pre-ride the course to get a sense of what was coming up. My bike was still set up in the original 12-23 cassette that came with the bike. Kris suggested that because I did the Ironman in that setup I'd be just fine. So I set out in the 45-degree morning, my teeth chattering as I headed to the penultimate climb up Blue Mounds Road. Fifty miles later, I discovered two things: 1) Chocolate milk is the best recovery drink ever, and 2) A 27-tooth gear was definitely in order. My thighs demanded it.

***

Me: "How much longer until the end?"
Supporters: "Not much. You're looking good."

I can't imagine how bad I did look. I certainly didn't feel like I was "looking good." I could feel and see the sweat dripping from my forehead, helmet, nose, sunglasses, chest, just about anywhere there was a sharp edge where sweat could drip off. I was "doing the paperboy" to get up the hill, biking back and forth across the road, much like a paperboy would cris-cross the road delivering papers from house to house. I finally sucked up everything I had, put my head down and counted my pedal strokes in groups of five to get myself to the top.

Never did the chirp of the timing mats sound so good. I purposefully slowed down, just to hear them for that much longer.

***
Overall, I enjoyed the ride. Everyone was super nice and the volunteers and rest stops were spetacular. The only hang-up was to have to pick up your timing chips right before the race, rather than putting them in the swag bag with the race numbers. It was hot, and the organizers provided extra water stops along the routes so that everyone could refill their water bottles and grab more gels. Highlight of the food was the hard-boiled eggs and slim-jims.

Nevermind that I showed up a half-hour later than I wanted to. I forgot my bag with my jersey, race number and other esential items at the house. Thankfully I discovered that only fifteen minutes from the house, rather than at the race start.

Below you'll see two graphs that show both the elevation and grades over the 68 miles that were recorded by my Forerunner. On a side note, I set a new speed record on my bike. 46.9 miles per hour. Sweet.

THUNK!

THUNK!

My bike shoes lock in the pedals and the cool morning bites my exposed skin. I pull onto John Nolen Lake Shore path and settle into my aero bars.

Splash! Splash! Splash! Three fish jump in unison in the lake, coordinated enough to make me think they're wishing me well on my morning ride. I passed early morning runners, fewer than during the week -- must be the holiday weekend. Saturdays are a good reason to sleep in.

But not for me. Mornings are my time. A co-worker commented that finding time to train for a marathon was hard in his life, let alone finding time for three sports. I told him it's all about 5 AM. I continue east on McCoy Road, my shadow growing in front of me. It' hard to believe that's me. I see my two legs imitating a set of pistons, cranking on the pedals as I settle into a nice pace. The wind whistles through me ears, but it's silent. There's no one around. For two hours, it's me and my bike. Just the way I like it.

T-Minus 7 days...

As I alluded to in last week's summary, I am at the beginning of the end of my training. For me and for you, I hope to document my last weeks of training, and include all the range of emotions as I prep for The Big Day. I don't think they'll all be this long, though. All will be categorized under "T-Minus."

Today was exactly 40 days before September 11. It also started three weeks of lots of time swimming, biking and running. I hope to average about 15 hours each week working out. Two emphasizing the bike, one on the run. Swimming will occur in Lake Monona, getting used to long, continuous swims, the lake and my wetsuit. I woke up this morning at 5 AM to darkness. Just a month ago, the sun had been up for nearly 20 minutes. Now, it hadn't broken the horizon. As a result, I was treated to a giant orange glow about twenty minutes into my ride.

When I started, mid-week rides pushed 45 minutes and went around Lake Monona. Soon, I needed a longer ride, and I pushed it to an hour around the Capitol City Trail. Lately, I've pushed it even more, and now I close in on two hours a ride, following the Ironman bike course to the loop portion that starts in Verona. I call it the Ironlink. On the Ironlink, there's one hill that takes some effort. At the crest, there's a mailbox post made from PVC pipe, connected and painted to green to represent a cactus. As such, I've name the hill "Cactus Hill." Every time I reach the top of Cactus Hill, I wish that I had a camera to capture the view. In it, quintessential Wisconsin is captured. Green rolling hills, large farms, and bypasses around small cities. Today it held up to the expectations, with patches of morning fog trapped in the valleys swallowing up the farms in the nooks and crannies of the driftless hills.

The run tonight wasn't so serene. In an effort to stay cool and get errands done, I quick ran to Qdoba and got dinner. In a sincere lack of judgment, I ordered a burrito and swallowed it whole. I then got the errands done and made it home to get ready to run. Unfortunately, the burrito hadn't settled, nor did the weather. It was still near 90°F and sticky. The tummy wasn't too happy with my speed, so I made do and was out when the sun set.

So that marks t-minus 40 days. Up and down with the sun.

A challenging week mentally. Work is still crazy busy, with late meetings and some deadlines. Throw in some training, lots of snot and you've got one tired Robbyb.

The week started off with last Saturday's cold. Praise be to the Wal-fed for congestion relief. Although the muscles were sore and slow to recover throughout the week, it went better than I anticipated. Swimming was sub-par, but that's a bit expected seeing as the breathing was already hampered with all the snot.

Thursday's ride was a lesson in weather. The forecast finally predicted highs above 60°F and I wanted to capitalize on what promised to be a pleasant day. I woke with the rising sun over a calm Lake Monona and called the local weather line for the morning's temperature. "...it's 42°...Winds: calm...Feels like: 42°..." Sounds good to me. Shorts it is. But, I'll wear my jacket and long gloves just to be sure.

Enter the weather lesson. When the ambient winds are calm, I average about 18mph on my bike. That means I create my own wind chill, making it feel like it's 30°F when riding. Thirty degrees does not feel the same as forty-two. Add to the mix that most of my route around the Capitol City Trail lies in a marsh, about ten feet lower than the surrounding land. With the calm winds and cool night, the air settled into the cool marsh dropping the air temperature another 5-7 degrees. Nice. I was anticipating spring and I get the middle of winter. Luckily, I haven't succumbed to shaving my legs, so the extra hair kept them warm. But my fingers, out in front and breaking the wind, didn't have it so good. It was all I could do to keep them warm. Lo, it was all I could do to wiggle my fingers from time to time. Here's the moral: Don't trust your brain if it's before 6AM.

I am happy with my totals for Week 15, the second in my Build Phase. Over 100 miles total again, but this time without any extra rides to pad the mileage. Average paces are faster, and amount of intensity is increasing.

I love riding my bike. I came to that conclusion yesterday as I was pedaling south on Blizzard Road to CTH CC on my way to Oregon. It felt so good to be in the sun, wind in my face, feeling the pavement underneath my wheels. After 34 consecutive indoor sessions on Nelson's trainer in the back bedroom of our apartment, Sting (my bike) felt the exitement too and was smooth and sleek. I waved back to the other roadies, their gesture to me like a salute, recognizing me as a serious cyclist. At least I must've looked the part. By the end of my ride, I was doing the saluting, to others headed out on their rides, not caring if they didn't respond. I covered approximately 45 miles in 2 hours, 40 minutes. Below is the route, created by my Garmin Forerunner 301.

Two weeks ago, I had mentally planned to baptize myself on the Ironman bike course. I only needed the weather to cooperate. After yesterday's morning rain and high of 73°F, today started swimmingly with a brisk 50°F morning. The only wild card was the 1 AM bedtime & drinks from last night. I awoke to the alarm in good spirits and eager to get going. I made it to Cross Plains by 9:40 AM, right on time. By the time I got the bike unloaded and myself geared up, I was on my way at 9:50. I followed the course clockwise, heading out Bourbon Road and County P.

I felt good. The bike, as always, was riding smooth. I would soon come to a hill dubbed the "highest 'Degree' of difficulty" on the official Ironman map. It was definitely tough, but I had no idea what I was in for. You see, I started at what is really Miles 40 & 80 (because of the loop). I was hitting the hardest hill only 5 miles into my ride with fresh legs. Most climb it at Miles 45 & 85, where it is probably mind & leg numbing. I've read stories of athletes walking their bikes up it during the race. There were black marks covering the controversial motivational paint, which triggered my imagination of all the supporters lining the road, cheering the bikers up the hill. The thoughts got me up the hill and sent chills down my arms. I can't wait until next September.

The crisp morning grew into a glorious fall day, with spectacular red and orange leaves lining the country roads and bluffs. I realized why the message boards refer to the Ironman Wisconsin as IMOO, as in the bovine sound, "Mooo." All the roads wind through the fertile Wisconsin farmlands, many of them dairy farms. One of the ride's highlights featured such a cow. I noticed one on the side of the road ahead, but couldn't tell if it was behind a fence or not. When it darted out into the road, I figured out the answer real quick. Instead of staying on the opposite side and letting me pass, it skirted out into the middle and immediately began to trot down the middle of the road. I slowed my pace to follow it, waiting for it to move out of the way. The narrow road didn't really leave enough room to comfortably pass. As it trotted, it kept looking back at me. She kept glaring back at me with a look of "Why are you making me run? Can't you see I'm a cow? I don't run. I chew grass." After those glances, I slowed considerably and allowed her to quickly amble along. She finally found a driveway to pull into, just as a slow vehicle would, and quickly turned the her eyes on me to make sure I wouldn't make her run anymore.

Another great moment came in Mount Horeb, nearing the completion of the ride. My legs and back were growing considerably sore, and the noon-high sun was warming me beyond my layered clothes. I stopped at a Kwik Trip to take off some layers, rest, and eat my last granola bar. I noticed a guy drive by, totally checking out my bike. He parked and said hello as he went into the store, mentioning that he had been out already this morning. I was still there when he came out, and he asked how I like my bike. What followed was an impromptu friendly conversation that is only possible because I started exercising. He said that he didn't really get into the triathlon thing, but was a big gear head, logging 4,000 miles on his bike each year. (4,000! Some people don't even put that on their cars!) We chatted about the Ironman and bike gear and he left to take his gallon of milk home. He finished by letting me know there were only a few hills left and most of it was downhill. I was excited to be done.

I arrived back at my car two and a half hours I left it, 40.5 miles and way too many hills later. I was drained. This course is way harder than I thought. I stretched out my legs, and felt the burn as I sat down. On my way out of town, I decided to treat myself to a Culver's custard. As I placed and waited for my order, my legs decided to cramp up. I could barely stand, leaning against the counter and danced around to keep moving. The custard could not be served fast enough. I got my dish and found the nearest seat to stretch and massage out my legs. I must have looked really ugly, dancing and wincing in pain while waiting for the custard. My legs have stayed sore throughout the day, and will most likely be sore for the rest of the week. It's that bad. No wonder why Lance has a personal masseuse.

As I alluded to earlier, I've been hiding in the wings of some message boards amassing tips, and reading the trials, tribulations, and successes of others. The community is supportive, friendly, and open to all ideas with great enthusiasm for triathlons. A neat feature is that several people post diaries of their events and often offer advice and tips for those of us that aren't quite there yet. I use each as a source of competition tips, like what should go in transition bags, what, when and where to eat. But mostly I use them as a source of inspiration. One such report is John's Blue Devil Ironman race in North Carolina. Just awesome.

Although I'm down 26 pounds on the diet, there's still plenty left to train for, as today was a huge eye-opener. It was good to get it out in the open now, rather than next summer. I know where I stand and how much I need to go. I've got a tentative list of events to compete in over the next year, including the Alumni Meet in December, Crazylegs in April, MadCity Half marathon in Memorial Day, and a half-ironman in late July. I'll be programming those into my training schedule and use them as indicators as the training progresses. It's going to be a great year.

Kris & I had a very laborious Labor Day weekend, finishing it off with a thirty mile ride near the Baraboo Hills. Dubbed the Ferry Frolic by the local Bombay Bicycle Club, we started in Lodi and worked our way up to the Merrimac Ferry. From there, we completed an extended loop due to a mislabeled map, and worked our way back to the Ferry and then home to Lodi. Overall, about 3 hours of movement, 30.5 miles on the bike and the first test with some real hills.

The aforementioned extended loop featured one hill that kicked my pretty hard. I went against some judgment and got only a double chain ring on my bike, foregoing the "granny gears" that are necessary for easy riding up a hill. What I got was a bit more compact bike, that allows me to power up those hills. The key word there being "power." A sizable hill seems to take that power away, and I was left feeling very winded. But, I made it, and have to tackle many more along the way. Especially if 112 miles are in order.

This morning's scale read 195.8, same as yesterday, and about 17 pounds down from the beginning.

We're moving into Phase II of the South Beach diet. Carbs are slowly being reintroduced. We'll continue in the phase until we reach our goals. For me, it's (at a minimum) another 10 pounds. If it comes off fast, then we'll see if we can't get below 180, which would put me around my high school weight just in time for my reunion.

The morning started thick. Our remote thermometer said that it was 70° at 5:45 AM. I could tell it was humid. The lake was glass, hidden in the low fog. The sky was slowly turning a cotton candy pink as the sun struggled to reach the horizon. The pedals were moving effortlessly under my feet, and I was on my way. "Jesus Christ!," the runner exclaimed as he nearly jumped into my path. (It was his fault.) I was holding a nice pace and felt quite good all the way around the lake, until I passed a fellow cyclist. I politely gave him a heads up that I was passing, and then he promptly sprinted by, zooming through an intersection, darting around the queued cars. I politely crossed in the appropriate cross walks, and caught up to him one more time. After I passed him again, he kept my pace and started drafting. At the next crossing, I again slowed and used the appropriate crossing. He sped forward, crossed against traffic, and started along the path again ahead of me. Bastard. For the third pass, I flew by and he had no hope to catch up. I never looked back, but I don't think he was there.

It was after this duel that I decided to name my bike. Kris & I had tossed around bee-related names, "Yellow Jacket," "The Bumble Bee," etc. But it was right then that I decided to go with "Sting."

(197.2 on the scale)

I couldn't just ride the bike once and leave it alone, could I? Of course not. I did the same Lake Monona Loop this morning and tried to complete it in 45 minutes. I was just a bit off, but I flew none the less. There's definitely going to be a initiation period of getting used to the bike, with my body and pressure points (as my saddle points so rudely reminded me) and how the shoes and gears, etc. works. It's all so very, very cool.

198.8 lbs. on the scale. Maybe the increase is because of the Limón and diet cola boot we had on Saturday night?

Some banner things happened today. First, I went on an unexpected run. I wore a heart-rate monitor for information purposes. It said that I was working out at about 190 bpm, which is awfully high. I can remember maintaining that type of heart rate for several sets when swimming in high school, so maybe it's okay.

Checking in with the scale confirmed awesome news. I weighed 198.2 lbs. Just over 15 pounds lost in 14 days. Anybody that says these diets are a fad most likely are the ones who need to try it out. I'm hooked, and after reading the book, I'm going to extend the strict phase another week to see if I can keep shedding the weight at the same pace.

Kris & I made some major purchases in bikes. I stuck with the Giant TCR even though Erik's had a sweet Specialized. Price made a difference here. Goin with the TCR allowed me to go with a really nice set of shoes for the cost of the Specialized alone. And Kris absolutely fell in love with the Specialized Roubaix (Say it: roo-bay') and its smooth ride. She loved it so much, I think she would've left me if we didn't go back and get the last one in her size. Thoughtfully, the clerk "hid" the bike in the display window so it would be there if we came back.

Now completely outfitted, we toured around Lake Monona on a nice 14.8 mile ride to complete my first two-a-day.

We strayed a bit off course last night. Tracy got married, and it's sooo hard to pass up cake, so we indulged on that as some liquor. Kris stayed strong and stuck with red wine. I traded up from the normal beer to Bacardi Limón & diet cola. We stuck under the radar, not boozing it up too much.

I was a bit scared to see what effect the cake would have. But it was a nice 203.5. I'm still waiting to see the magical numbers under 200. After today's bike ride and relatively small meals without too many snacks, there may be hope it tomorrow or the next day.

With the warm weather over the weekend, Kris and I went on a short bikeride to get the legs warmed a bit. It was seven or so miles and refreshing all at the same time.