Thoughts on blogging and my 4th of July ride

Below is a description of yesterday’s ride, which I posted on my other blog; as you can see from my lack of posts here, I’m not entirely sure what the fate of this blog will be. Right now I’m not feeling particularly inspired to write about training, although I have had lots of thoughts about it. I’m hesitant to shut this one down, though, because I never know when inspiration to write here will come back. These things are very cyclical for me.
One bit of news, though: I have hope, finally, of being able to run again. I’ve been seeing a new doctor for my foot because the first podiatrist didn’t help much; this new guy is a chiropractor but he does other kinds of therapy too, and he’s also a triathlete, which I like a lot, as I feel he knows more about how to help me (which may not be true, but he’s certainly more interested than the other guy was in helping me get out running again). I’ve had over a week now with no twinges in my foot, and I ran a mile on Thursday with no pain afterward. Oh, except for quad pain because I haven’t run in 5 months or so and all my conditioning is now gone!
Here’s the post about yesterday’s ride:

I rode my first century of the season today. A friend of mine is training for an ironman, and she asked if we wanted to ride 100+ miles today, and of course I couldn’t say no. So we set out at 7:30 this morning with a group of five: it was two triathletes, one road racer, and Hobgoblin and I.

The first part of the ride was good, except for some sprinkles, but rain when the temperature is in the 70s doesn’t bother me. But then disaster struck: the other road racer all the sudden went down. I was behind him, but I didn’t really see it; all I saw was bike parts flying across the road and the rider skidding across the pavement. We never discovered exactly what happened, but it appeared that somehow his fork detached from his front wheel, sending the front wheel flying and snapping the fork in half. The rider was okay, amazingly enough, suffering only some scrapes and road rash, as well as tearing his jersey. No broken bones or head concussion. His bike frame may be salvageable too.

The crash really shook us all, though. I’ve been behind too many crashes and too often have had to slam on my brakes and swerve to avoid bodies and bike parts and then hope that the fallen rider is okay. It can happen all too easily.

We waited for about an hour for the rider’s wife to come pick him up, and then we decided to keep our original plan and finish the ride.

From there on out things were better, although we wished our other rider could have been there. The rain cleared out, although it never got sunny — which I can’t say I minded that much, as it kept things reasonably cool. Our route was hilly (of course) and beautiful, through farm country in Connecticut and New York.

I was the slowest rider there, but up until the last hour or so I kept up with the others reasonably well. Even in the last hour when I was tired and no longer felt like pushing very hard, I never got that far behind the others. We finished in around six hours, which is a good time for me.

It was a nice way to spend the holiday, and I hope to do more long rides like this one later in the season — and maybe ride even farther next time.

Tuesday night race

Another good race tonight, except that I spent too much time near the middle/back of the pack, when I should try to stay near the front. I know that I should try to stay near the front, but when I get out there, the pack makes me nervous and I let people get ahead of me. I worked hard, but I think I could have worked harder — must try next time to be more aggressive! It’s fearfulness in the pack that holds me back more than fitness — I could use some more fitness, but even more I could use some confidence and fearlessness …

Speed: 25 mph; Avg HR: 169; Distance: 18.5 miles.

Race report: the Housatonic Hills race defeats me again

Update: it turns out I got 18th out of 35 starters — not as bad as I thought.

No, I did not have a particularly good race today. Housatonic Hills is a god-awful road race with horrible hills that make me feel like I’m going to die when I climb them at race pace. This is the third year in a row I haven’t had a good race there. You might wonder why I keep going back, and the only thing I can say is that it’s because of pride. I wouldn’t like to skip a race just because it’s hard and I don’t like it. That sounds wimpy. Perhaps next year I can fake a serious illness??

The race promoters changed the course this year to avoid some patches of rough road that have caused trouble, and this meant that whereas before we had something like 7 miles of flat road to ride before the hills began, this year we had to start the race heading uphill. It was supposed to be a neutral start to the top of the hill, meaning that we would ride up it slowly and only start racing once we’d reached the top, but it didn’t work out that way; instead, since there wasn’t a car at the front of my pack to set the pace as there usually is, people rode up the hill fast, and I reached the actual start of racing already tired. We headed downhill for a bit and I started to feel better, but then we hit another hill, the pack split up, I ended up in the back half of the pack, the back half of the pack split up, and that was that — I was dropped and had over 20 miles left to ride.

It wasn’t completely horrible — I found other women to ride with and we worked together to keep a decent pace, and, of course, it wasn’t all uphill, but still …

I did have fun hanging out with racers afterwards — the social part is often the best thing about bicycle racing, I sometimes feel. And there’s also the feeling of accomplishment — I didn’t finish all that well (I’m guessing I got something like 30th out of 40 riders), but I did ride and finish the damn thing, which is more than most people will do. And I earned the big pasta dinner and ice cream I had this evening. And now I have another year until I have to race that stupid course again.

Two more races

I raced last Sunday and again this evening and thank God there was no crash in either race, although there was some squirrelly riding. But there always is a little bit of that, and the trick is for people to recover without panicking and therefore going down.

So, on Sunday I rode in a women’s open race and did okay, finishing 11th out of 18. There was some bumping right before the final sprint that made me hit my brakes some, and I may have done better if that hadn’t happened, but I’m not sure — by the end of the race I was beat. The odd thing is that our pace wasn’t that fast, relatively speaking — we averaged around 21 mph, when every Tuesday night I average around 25 on the same course. And I felt more tired during the Sunday race than I usually do on Tuesdays. I think the difference is that we had a smaller pack, and so I couldn’t draft as well, and the women tend to pace themselves differently — they’ll go slowly on the flat parts and then sprint up the hill, and that tires me out even though the pace is relatively slow.

Anyway, the race tonight was fine — I finished with no trouble, although at the back of the pack. I had some moments when I rode near the front and that was good; I was trying not to lose my place in the pack and fall too far towards the back — I need to work on being more aggressive and not letting people push me back and take my wheel.

I’ve had a pretty frantic couple weeks with two races a week, but now I have a week off until the next Tuesday night race. Well, not quite a week off — I’m planning another epic 80-mile ride this Thursday.

Thursday ride

Yesterday was an 81-mile ride, with a group of four other people.  Much of the route was familiar to me, but there were parts that were new, and these were particularly beautiful.  Unfortunately I haven’t yet gotten the route in my mind, so I’ll have to pay more attention next time …

At first I felt a little uncertain about riding after the crash — not riding itself, but riding with other people.  I didn’t want to be close to anybody else or to ride behind anyone.  But soon enough I got into the ride and forgot about the crash, and then things were easier.  My bruises hurt whenever I went over a bump, but that was the only reminder that I’d crashed two days before.

I worked harder than usual on this ride, as usually happens when I’m with a group.  Our average speed was 16.7, average HR 154, and we rode for nearly 5 hours.  It was a good group — the three guys were faster than me, but not embarrassingly so, and they weren’t out to ride hard, so it didn’t matter so much.  The one other woman and I were more evenly matched, although I think she has more overall endurance than I do (she’s a triathlete and is training for an ironman — when we finished the ride she went out for a short run).

Today is off, and I hope to squeeze in a short ride tomorrow between rain storms, and then be ready for Sunday’s race.

Race report — with crashes!

Today was my first crash in a bike race! I’ve crashed before, but always on my own, because of black ice or failure to pay attention to the road. This evening I got the thing over that I was dreading — my first real bicycle race crash. And I’m fine — I’ve got a nasty-looking bump on my knee, some bruises on my hip, a few red marks on my elbow and calves, a sore ankle, and that’s the worst of it. Except for my bike, which has a broken front wheel. It now has a curve in it it didn’t have before. Fortunately Hobgoblin has some extra front wheels, so I’ll be able to ride again before I get a new wheel of my own.

I’ve done two races in the last three days, and neither race went particularly well. Sunday Hobgoblin and I drove up to Hartford to ride in the criterium there; it was a beautiful day, in the 70s and sunny, and I’d just come off a week of easy riding and should have been well rested, but I just couldn’t quite get into the spirit of racing. I’m not entirely sure what the problem was, but I think part of it is that I ate too much before the race — always a potential problem for me because I’m more afraid of eating too little than too much — and my stomach felt heavy the whole race. I also don’t think I warmed up enough, but it could also be that I simply wasn’t into racing that day and so didn’t have the energy to put into a proper warm-up.

At any rate, the race started off fast but manageable, and I hung on and felt okay for a while. My heart rate was high, but I remember that happening on this course last year; it’s a fast course, mostly flat, which means the pack keeps a fast pace the entire time, with no chance for a break. I was okay until the 14th lap (out of 20 laps total), when I fell back a bit — I don’t remember exactly how it happened, but I might have grabbed the wrong wheel and started following someone who couldn’t hold on. So there was a gap between me and the field, and I started chasing. I chased the field for a lap but couldn’t quite catch on again, and finally I realized it wasn’t going to happen. I rode the last 5 laps on my own — pretty unusual for me, because I hate riding all on my own in a race.

That was a disappointment because I finished the race last year and thought I could finish it again. But it just wasn’t my day, for whatever reason.

The race tonight, though, was another story. I got in a good 40-minute warm-up and worked hard enough to feel my energy levels pick up — something that never happened on Sunday. When the race began I could feel that I was going to do pretty well; I had no trouble climbing the hill, my heart rate stayed at a good level (in the upper 160s and 170s on the hill), and I had a lot of energy.

There was one ominous moment, however, when a particularly unstable rider (I’d noticed him as potential trouble in earlier races) crashed seemingly out of nowhere, all on his own. He may have been bumped and I missed it, but it looked like he just fell over, for no reason. No one else went down, but the warning was there. Everything was fine after that until the very last lap. I was feeling great, getting ready to make a big effort to stay with the pack as they sped up the hill, when I saw some wobbling in front of me, heard some yelling, and then the next thing I knew I was heading straight toward two bicycles lying on their sides on the road. I skidded forward a little ways, but landing on the bicycles meant I didn’t end up with as much road rash as I would have gotten otherwise. I discovered I was lying on someone’s leg, so I jumped up immediately. I’m not sure how many others went down, but it was 6 or 7, and it quickly became clear that the unstable rider, the one who crashed all on his own earlier, was the cause. I stood for a moment watching him lying there on the road, feeling anger — he should have learned his lesson after the first crash and his stupidity caused a lot of pain and will cost everyone involved lots of money in bike repairs — but also pity — I would never want to be a cause of a crash and I feel badly for anyone who has to deal with the guilt.

People slowly got up and assessed the damage; someone helped me figure out what was wrong with my bike and someone else drove up in a van to transport injured people and bikes back to the start line. People were complaining about the sloppy rider and he, the poor kid, was apologizing profusely, offering to buy me a new wheel and offering to replace everyone else’s broken parts. He kept apologizing, even well after we’d recovered from the crash. Mostly people ignored him, probably because, like me, they didn’t know what to say. Crashing is a part of racing, and everyone out there takes the risk that they might injure themselves or their bike, so I would never take anyone up on the offer to pay for bike repairs, but I do hope that rider learns how to ride a bit better.

So — now that I’ve crashed I can stop worrying about when the first time will be. I imagine I’ll be a little sore tomorrow, but I’m planning on doing a long ride on Thursday, and I’m pretty sure I’ll be just fine by then.

Rest week

I was gone on a retreat from Monday through Thursday, but I did take my bike along and I got in two rides, both of which took me to a state park on the Long Island Sound with beautiful water views.  The first ride I was out exploring on my own, but on the second ride I ran into another rider early on who volunteered to show me the back roads way to the park, so we rode together for an hour, chatting about riding and racing.  It was kind of fun to have a conversation with a random stranger like this — it happens relatively often, actually, and usually I meet nice people.

I rode for 1:15 yesterday too and today I’m resting for tomorrow’s race up in Hartford.  It’s a women’s open, which means it will be a challenge, but last year I finished the race without too much trouble and I’m hoping to do the same again.

Weekend riding

I worked hard this weekend because I’m looking at four days ahead without much if any time to ride.  Saturday I rode 60 miles, from home to the Housatonic hills course and back.  I hit all the hills I could.  Today I rode for an hour and felt tired, but in a good way.  So now I’m ready for some rest.

Group ride with rabbit

On Thursday I set out with three other people for what was to be a long ride, something in the neighborhood of 4 or 5 hours.  I’m always nervous about group rides, especially long ones, as I’m afraid of being the slowest in the group and holding everyone up.  But this group seems fairly well-matched, and it was clear we weren’t out to race each other.  We were going to head north, up into beautiful Litchfield county, along roads I wasn’t entirely familiar with, so I was excited about learning a new route.  About 50 minutes into the ride, though, a rabbit decided to cross the road just when we were riding by, and it ran directly into one woman’s wheel, taking her down.  We were all terrified.  She lay on the road for a while, mumbling something about her hip, and I was about ready to suggest we call an ambulance when she started to get up.

After a few minutes of standing around, she said she felt fine, and so we rode on, impressed at her courage.  I would probably have requested that someone go get a car to drive me home.  We rode on for another 45 minutes or so until the woman decided it was best to head back home, and so we did.  We were out for more than 2 1/2 hours total, a full hour and a half after the accident.  It turns out the woman had a mild concussion and cracked her helmet in half a dozen places.  She said it was the adrenaline that allowed her to get up and keep riding.

Thank God for helmets, right?

Race report

I didn’t feel quite as strong in today’s race as I did last week, but I still did fine, finishing once again, and this time in a slightly longer race, 25 laps instead of 22.  I did drop behind in the last half lap during the sprint, but I’m sure it’s better to stay out of the way of the serious sprinters and avoid any potential crashes.  I wasn’t quite as fresh this time around, having ridden pretty hard over the weekend, but, still, I had no trouble with the hill, and I never had a moment when I struggled to hang on.

Pace: 24.2 mph; Distance: 19.3 miles; Average HR: 170; Max HR: 182

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