Flashback
(Cue the harp music and gimme a little Vaseline around the lens, will ya?)
A
couple of weeks ago, I took at look at the long range weather forecast on
Accuweather.com to get a feel for the temperatures I’d be facing in the
Martin’s
I
was very glad to see that the temps for that day were forecast to be in the 60s
and 70s during the daylight hours. Awesome! My favorite riding weather was
coming and I could take a shot at my lowest time for a century ride. I was psyched! (Harp music again. Thanks!)
Ride
Report
The
Tour of Richmond has just completed its second year of existence, put on by the
SportBackers of Richmond as one of the signature events for the public to
enjoy. I rode in the inaugural event last year, my second century, and it was
really outstanding! The venue, support
stations, traffic control by 8 local law enforcement agencies was all top
notch. I figured with another year and lots of feedback (they sent participants
a survey to get suggestions for improvement) this one would be even better.
In
some ways, it was; in other ways, not so much.
The
Good
The
Century ride begins and ends at Richmond International Raceway, known locally
as RIR. Two shorter distances also end there but begin along the loop of the
century course. Since everyone finishes in the same place, and at about the
same time, there is a pretty big party atmosphere. They’ve got live music, good
BBQ, a vendor fair, and acres of parking of course.
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| aerial view of RIR |
Last
year I, along with many other participants, mentioned how cool it would be to
finish on the actual race track. (I realize we aren’t NASCAR, we’re cyclists
for goodness sake but you don’t often get the chance to do something like this.
And I just rode 100 miles, how about a little something for the effort?!) The
organizers apparently decided it was a great idea because anyone that completed
any of the three rides got to take a victory lap around the actual race track
before heading back out of the tunnel and across our own finish line. (Just so we wouldn’t think we were actually
racing, our lap was in the opposite direction.
Former NASCAR champ Alan Kulwicki (RIP) used to do the same thing in his
car when he won a race, calling it a “Polish victory lap.” He drove the Hooters
car for years and was quite a character.)
 |
| Alan Kulwicki - RIP |
The
course this year was rerouted in a couple of places to account for some
construction that was taking place out near my neighborhood. This resulted in
an increase of distance for the two longer routes, of an extra 4 miles. When
you’re riding that far, it doesn’t make a whole lot of difference and I also
felt like there was a pretty good hill that was getting cut out, too, so I was
kind of happy about it.
Support
was, once again, awesome! All of the intersections were staffed by the
aforementioned law enforcement groups all of whom went out of their way to keep
us safe. I always thank these folks as I pass them and every single one
responded back with very pleasant words and a smile. Thanks for all you do,
guys, every day of the year!
The
course was beautifully marked and signed. I can’t imagine missing a turn
anywhere along the route and there were multiple spots where electric message
boards were out, warning drivers of the dearth of cyclists on the road for the
day. As a result, drivers were
incredibly pleasant to the riders although I did get one guy ticked off at me
for not moving far enough to the right so he could pass with traffic coming the
other way. (That’s why I did it, dude. It’s called taking the lane.)
There
were lots of aid stations, placed about every 10 – 12 miles apart. They were
stocked with plenty of cold water and Powerade; at least half were staffed by
high school kids and they were very quick to offer to fill up bottles, get a
snack for you, and help you with any problem. There was also a mechanic at each
one, too, ready to help with any issues on the bikes. I was lucky enough not to
have any mechanical problems and that makes four completed century rides
without one. (You just know it’s coming though, don’t you?)
Finally,
the riders were terrific! At this event, everyone is happy and encouraging.
While queuing up at the start, I started speaking to guy who asked about my
RABA jersey. He asked who I was riding with and when I told him I was solo, he
immediately grabbed someone from his circle of friends and paired me up so that
I could get some relief and we could help each other with the wind. (Unfortunately, I lost him at the start when
a pileup occurred and we were separated.)
Cyclists
have a common bond regardless of how fast or slow we are. All of us know the
suffering that we sometimes have to endure on the bike, know the joy of overcoming
it, and celebrate that in each of us. It’s one of the things I love about this
ride!
The
Bad
Aid
station snacks didn’t really do anything for me this year. They seemed to have
an abundance of Goldfish, Ritz Bits (peanut butter or cheese) and some really
dry snack bars. Everything else was kind of spotty; I could really dig a PBJ
every 15 miles or something like that.
Not much of that around, though. Bananas were available and I also saw
some Oreos Minis along with another cookie that I can’t remember.
Fortunately, I’d prepared for the worst and
brought my own stash of Clif bars, Honey Stinger Waffles, and some power gels,
too.
The
heat was really tough on everybody. (Based on my calculations, about 8% of the
century riders didn’t complete the course.) Accuweather was correct that the
day was bright and sunny but they undershot the temperature by about 20
degrees. It actually reached 96 about the time I finished the ride. Yeah, it
was warm.
The
Ride
At
7:30, they sent the riders off for the century ride. At the front were several professionals from
United Healthcare’s team and a number of the local amateur studs. They were
planning to ride in the 20+ mph category. Behind them was the 18-20mph class,
then the 15-17mph group (that’s where I was) and the “under 15mph” folks. I
believe that was 543 starters, in all.
 |
| And, they're off! |
Having
lost my “teammate” at the line, I settled into an easy pace just riding along
with everyone else as we headed south towards downtown Richmond. There seemed
to be a lot more people around me this year than last and I was very wary of
all the people. Not everyone is used to riding in a large group and some people
aren’t as good on the bike skills as they could be so I ride very defensively.
 |
| Heading toward downtown |
About
a mile before coming into the Shockoe Bottom area, there was a really bad
accident. Two female riders had evidently bumped wheels and gone down at over
20 mph. As I rode past, one was still on the ground being attended to and the
other was sitting nearby with blood pouring down her face from a head wound. I
never did hear how they fared but I hoped they weren’t too badly hurt. An
ambulance passed me in seconds, heading to the site to assist so I know they
were well looked after. (These two were skilled riders. This is why I’m very
defensive.)
I
rolled past the 1st aid station after crossing the Manchester Bridge
and
headed up onto Riverside Drive, feeling strong. (I was hoping to beat the 7
hour mark on this ride and my pace was really good so far.) This part of the
ride has a bunch of rollers along with one of the most beautiful sections of
road in Richmond. For about 5 miles, we rode alongside the James River. This
morning, it was smooth as glass with a mist hanging over it in the shadowed
areas but already burned off where the sunlight had punched through.
 |
| Manchester Bridge view |
 |
| Riverside Drive descent |
We
climbed out of the river valley area for the next couple of miles before
turning away from the river and out into the suburbs of Chesterfield. I made my first stop at the 2nd
aid station, refilled my bottles with water, opened a Clif bar, stretched a bit
and then saddled up for more. I had come 25 miles in just less than 90 minutes,
well ahead of schedule and still feeling good!
Paceline
Riding
A
few miles up the road, I was grinding along at my usual 17-18 mph pace. In my
mirror, I could see some riders approaching and the person riding the point was
on a trial bike and down in the aero position.
As they pulled alongside, I could see that she was a very fit looking
rider as was the guy behind her, also in the aero position. Riding third and fourth were two guys on road
bikes. As the last one passed, I jumped up on the pedals and sped up to catch
the last wheel. Just like that, I was
flying!
My bike
computer showed me at 22.1 mph and I didn’t feel as if I was working any
harder, either. My pedal cadence was a bit faster, about 90 rpms instead of my
usual 75, but there was no strain. It’s amazing to me how drafting makes such a
difference in performance. It would save my butt later in the day, too.
We
continued along at this speed for about 9 or 10 miles, passing slower riders
along the way and going up and down some low, rolling hills. They rider ahead
of me looked to be about my age and was a bit over weight; his riding looked
somewhat strained, particularly on any upward grade. Eventually, he lost the
wheel of the rider in front of him and I had to push to pass him and catch back
up with the train which I managed to do quickly.
Finally,
we started up a fairly long grade. It wasn’t steep but it had enough of rise to
cause me to lose the wheel of the rider in front of me. As soon as I did, I
noticed that there had been some strain after all; I didn’t have anything extra
available to chase and I was spit, out the back. I grinned and settled back
down to my pace again, hoping to recover from the last 30 minutes and getting
another chance to catch a wheel.
Halfway
I
pulled into the aid station near the mid-point of the ride, still ahead of the
pace I’d set for myself but feeling a bit more tired than I expected. I chalked
it up to the higher output of riding in the paceline. I refilled bottles,
grabbed a snack, and then stretched for a few minutes. My legs felt okay and I was pleased that
neither of my hands had experienced any numbness. That was a big problem during
my last century and the effect had hung around for a painful couple of weeks.
As I
took my break, I fell into a conversation with a couple of guys who I had seen
several times so far. One was fairly large, often referred to as the Clydesdale
category, and the other looked to be of Indian descent and may have weighed 125
pounds. Evidently, they had been riding together for a good part of the ride.
The smaller one was asking if all of the hills were finished, as he was feeling
pretty gassed. When I heard the other
say that, “this is the highest part of the course and the worst is behind us” I
had to stick my nose in and tell him the truth.
 |
| Clydesdale Paceline |
There
were several healthy climbs ahead, two in particular heading into Hanover
County that I avoid when I’m riding in that area because they are really steep
and they come in quick succession, too. I wasn’t looking forward to these,
although my pre-ride preparation had focused on better climbing and I’d done
really well back in June at the Tour de Cure.
I
let the guys know what was ahead; the Clydesdale sneered and his buddy slumped
a little bit. He said he was suffering from cramps already and this was his
first century ride, ever. I told him to be sure and keep hydrating, and wished
them both well as I threw a leg over the bike and rode off.
Third
Quarter
The
next 25 miles or so were kind of a blur. I’m very familiar with these roads as
they wind within about a mile from my house and I’m on them frequently. As a result, my mind just kind of went blank
and I kept spinning the cranks, holding my speed between 15 and 17 mph.
At
the aid station near my house, mile 70 or so, I took a quick break to refill
bottles and grab a snack and a stretch.
I also started my RoadID app on my phone.
RoadID
is a company that was started a few years ago by a guy who was injured while
out on a ride and wasn’t carrying proper identification at the time. He started
a company that makes ID bracelets for cyclist and runners. They’re smart, light
weight, incredibly well made and have all the needed info. I bought one last
year and always wear it on my rides.
The
RoadID app, is in beta right now (I think) and it’s designed to be one more
link in the ID chain for cyclists. It works with your phone’s GPS capability.
When I use it, I create an “ecrumb” or trail of my ride, along with the projected
time I’m going to be riding and it sends a text to whomever I choose to let
them know. There’s also a link that the receiver clicks and it shows my
position on the map, on their phone! That way, they can follow along with the
ride. (I’ve been using this for several months when I commute to work by bike
and it lets MB know when I’ve left and how I’m progressing on the ride home.
Traffic being what it is at that hour, it’s helped keep her calm during my
ride.)
All
this to say that RoadID makes a great product and, if you are a cyclist or
runner and hate to carry identification (or worse, you don’t!) you should go
their website and buy! www.roadid.com is the website. Go. Now!
Cramps,
cramps, and more cramps
With
about 30 miles or so to go, I was suffering badly. I’d gotten a hint of
cramping in my calves about the halfway point but they had left after a few
minutes. Now, they were back with a vengeance and were migrating to other
locations, as well.
When
your calf cramps on a bike, you can usually ride it out by locking your ankle
and utilizing the big muscles in your thighs and glutes to take up the slack.
That worked for the first hour but now, the thighs were starting to cramp as
well.
I
knew I was in trouble when I stopped pedaling for a few seconds on a slight
descent. I typically ride with my left foot up and right foot down (I don’t
know why, it just feels right) and I happened to look down at my left thigh
because I noticed a dull ache in it. The
quad muscles were in spasm and making all kinds geometric shapes under the skin
while I watched.
I
remember thinking, “Maybe that’s why it hurts.” Very calmly, as though it was someone else's limb, I pushed that leg
out straight with my left foot down and the spasm went away but the pain was
still there. I tentatively began spinning the pedals slowly. Every time the
foot would come up, I’d feel the muscles start to grab and then, as I extended
the leg they would subside.
At
that point, I was thinking I’d have to not stop the rest of the way or risk
being doubled over in spasm.
The
next aid station appeared, at about the 80 mile mark, and I figured I’d need to
stop and figure out my next move.
I
make a new friend!
I
pulled in and climbed off the bike. I killed the last of what was in my bottles
and then spent about 10 minutes stretching, really focusing on the calf and
thigh muscles. They seemed to be okay but I knew that as soon as I climbed back
on the bike and started the repetitive spinning, the cramps would start again.
I was seriously considering calling MB and telling her to come get me because I
didn’t think I could finish.
(By the end of this ride, I consumed at least 15 liter bottles of water and/or Powerade; in some cases I was mixing it 50/50. It appears that I didn't drink enough. It's hard to believe that 4 gallons of fluid isn't enough. And I never once had to pee. Yeah....)
I
refilled my bottles, had several snacks including 2 bananas, and continued to
stretch. As I came up out of a deep
bend, I spotted the Indian guy I’d spoken with a couple of hours before. He was
also stretching and looked as bad as I felt. We made eye contact and he walked
over.
He
was still suffering from cramps just as I was and was also thinking about
bagging it. We continued to talk while we stretched and realized that, since we
had been riding almost exactly the same pace all day, it made sense to hang
together and help each other out the rest of the way. He introduced himself as Sonny; we shook
hands and mounted up.
For
the next hour and a half, we took turns pulling each other along. We stopped at
every aid station to stretch and re-hydrate, and generally to push each other
to the finish. At the 100 mile mark, I rolled up to give Sonny a high five for
having completed his first century ride. He seemed startled at first until he
realized what he’d done. His grin said
it all!
While
the cramps never went away completely, we managed to hold them at bay and drag
ourselves back to RIR for the finish line.
Victory
Lap
Sonny
and I made the left turn and rolled down the last hill before turning at 7 and
heading onto RIR grounds. Once there, we followed the line of cones and yellow
tape that directed us through the tunnel and up onto the race track.
While
taking our victory lap, I was struck by how huge the place seems when there is
no one in the stands. It’s like a football stadium on steroids (I know, ironic,
huh?) and just seems to go on for a long way.
And RIR is really a small track compared to about half the ones on the
NASCAR circuit at ¾ mile in length.
We
rode up pit road and turned right to go back to the tunnel and, finally, to the
finish line.
Success!
Outside
the raceway, we followed more of the yellow tape around the perimeter until we
could see, and hear the finish line. The PA announcer was amping the crowd
noise up, announcing each rider’s number as they crossed the line. About 20 yards away, I sat up and through my
arms up in the air to cross the line in the victory salute. (Hoping for a photo op!)
The
finish funneled everyone to an area where volunteers with large trashcans full
of iced down Gatorade and cloth towels were waiting. As I came to a stop, a
girl handed me a full quart, wrapped in an ice-soaked towel. I slowly pulled off my helmet and Headsweat and
hung them on my bars. Then I put the towel on top of my head and felt the cold,
icy water pour down my face, ears, neck, and shoulders.
(I can’t come up with words to tell you how
good this felt. Truly. Thinking about it, right now, I tear up. It was that good.)
With
the cloth still on my head, I opened the drink and chugged it. Evidently, I was going to live.
Epilogue
I
stowed my bike in the guarded parking area and walked toward the food/banquet
hall for the after-party. I pulled out my cell, and called MB to let her know
I’d survived and would be home in an hour or so. My friend Greg, who had ridden
the 30 mile course, had sent me a text letting me know he’d just sat down to
eat so I responded that I was on my way.
I
got a beer ticket and went to get it, so I’d have something to drink while
waiting in line for BBQ. The line for food was short, fortunately, and I piled
my plate high with pork and chicken BBQ which was delicious.
I
sat down with two friends, one of whom rode with me the prior year, to discuss
the ride. It was determined that anyone riding the two longer distances had a
tough time of it with cramps running rampant throughout the field. It had been
a tough day, no question!
I
finished my food, said goodbye to Sonny and thanked him for his teamwork, and
went to pickup my rider goodie bag and my medal for completing the 102 mile,
but actually 106 mile, course. I slipped it over my head. Yeah, I’m a dork.
 |
| Pay off |
The
truth is I was proud of myself for completing the course.
Final
Thoughts
It’s
now been a week since the ride. Looking
back, this ride doesn’t seem as hard as it was at the time. (This short term
memory for pain is one of the reasons the human race still exists. If women
really remembered how painful it is to have a baby, gorillas would be in charge
because humans would have died out long ago.)
I’m already thinking about the next century ride that I’m going to do.
Sick bastard.
