Let it rain?

Yeah.. it rained.  Who would have expected that? We had warm weather before and gorgeous weather right after.. but the day of the Peak Season Century (100 miles around Lake George), it rained like a big dog.
Lake George is beautiful, even in the rain. But add in the cold and the wind?  No, not for me, thank you.

I tried. I really did. I used every mental image I had at my disposal to try and keep myself going. I called the cold rain in my face, the "Adirondack Mist Facial". I kept thinking, "people  pay good money for a spa treatment like this".  How is that for re-framing?

When the wind picked up, coming out of the north, hitting me in the face and making the rain feel like pin pricks, I called it the "Cryo-exfoliation" treatment. Again, keeping in mind, "people pay good money for a spa treatment like this".

Then the chamois in my pants started to take on water. Cold water. The road was wet and the spray must have been coming up off my back wheel and it just soaked through the bike pants and into the chamois. Every time I hit a bump, I got a cold spray of water right up the nether regions. Yeah, I thought,  people pay good money for this....

This is the shot I would have taken, if I had brought my camera

I stopped at 32 miles, where most people were calling it quits. I stood in the ladies room and warmed my hands under the hand dryer. I sat in someone's car (whoever you were, thank you!), with a few other folks with the heater turned on high. I pretty much decided I was going to give in. Then, Susan and Tom arrived. They were not quitting. In no uncertain terms, Susan told me she was going to keep going. So, off I went with Susan and Tom, with the goal of making it another 8-10 miles to Fort Ticonderoga.

I made it the 8  miles, had lunch at Fort Ti, and found I couldn't warm myself up, no matter what I tried, I was still wet and shivering. So, there, at historic Fort Ticonderoga. I surrendered. With Lake Champlain to the north, and Lake George to the south, I waved the wet bike glove of surrender. Like the British surrendering to Ethan Allen and the Green Mountain Boys in 1775 after a surprise attack, the weather, in it's surprise attack on me, was the clear victor.
Next year, there will be a rematch!

Note: this would have been my 4th Century Ride. I guess that milestone will have to wait for next spring and Lake Tahoe. However, my relationship with Lake George, will be revisited.

A man without a country.. or a gal without her team ;-\

Last weekend, the Team Hole in the Wall challenge, was the first organized ride I have done without my TNT team mates. I have to stop and think about just what that means. It was a much smaller ride than I am used to, and by small, I mean there were far fewer riders than I am used to. The periods of  being alone, were much more frequent than any other group ride I have ever been on. They weren't bad, just different than what I usually see in an organized ride. Billy was there, but by mile 50, I was starting to slow and he, well, he wasn't. So, I found myself lagging behind. It was fine, but my usually 'peeps' weren't there. No Coach Henry, telling me in his booming voice to soften my elbows; no Coach Dave, with his dry sense of humor. No Rita coming up behind me on a hill, saying 'we love to ride our bicycles', no Jen. NO JEN!!! NO JEN??? Nope, no Jen, I can't do a ride without Jen!!!! No Pauly and none of the banter that we typically enjoy on our training and event rides. Just me and Billy. And for quite a while, just me.

OH.. yeah.. new Team Hole in the Wall jersey. Don't ask.

But, just me is okay! I finished. I did get lost at the end and took a wrong turn, which probably added a mile or so to the ride, but I finished, with Billy sitting there waiting, and the support group ringing cowbells, and the tears in my eyes (okay, so that is the same, with or without my team).

I think, like a kid taking the car out on the road right after they get their license, this is a step for me. A big step in my independence as a cyclist. I needed this. I needed to know I could do a ride on my own. Having signed up for Peak Season in Lake George (so far about 200 riders), the Team Hole in the Wall was good practice for me riding without the team, gaining that independence. I made it the 62 without my team, so I am pretty sure I will make the 100 on my own too.  But, will it be as much fun?

September 11, 2011

The state of the sunflowers are leading me to believe that fall is not far away.

Short, slow recovery ride this morning. Who am I kidding, recovery??? I just wanted to ride. Period. Addicted I am. Besides, the beautiful mornings like this one are soon to be a thing of the past (Welcome, Autumn), so I need to take advantage of the weather while it lasts.

I stayed on the roads that I know, nothing new and adventurous. Had enough of that yesterday. Yesterday? Seems like a distant memory, the burning legs, the labored breath... Yesterday,  I rode the Team Hole in the Wall Challenge. A charity ride benefiting the Hole in the Wall Camp, which was founded by Paul Newman. It was a wonderful ride, very, very well supported, SAG wagons, support on motorcycles, really excellent. For the times I found myself riding alone, there was always some guy on a motorcycle not far away if I needed anything. It was a very challenging ride. 62 miles of hills. I had a feeling when we left the camp and immediately started on a downhill, bad juju. The hills were not huge, not long, there were just a blessed ton of them. And, was it just me? There seemed to be no downhills in between them. Seems like you would just start picking up some speed and either you had to slow for a turn, or went right back up. The only place I really felt like I gained any speed was on the one rather big downhill where I caught enough momentum to get the bike up to 40.5 mph... personally the fastest I have ever gone. Now if you know me, you know how I hate going downhill fast, but either I have changed or something in me has changed because I am kinda sorta starting to like it.
Camp Hole in the Wall is such a good place, such a happy place, I tried to carry some of that wonder with me on the ride. The first pedal stroke brought out some tears, as did the last. That is to be expected, I guess. The feeling of being a  part of something that is so much bigger than myself, something that helps so many kids.  Thanks, Paul Newman!

A banner in the dining hall, thanks for the picture Billy!

Today, September 11th, I did my recovery ride, or my Karen just wants to get back on the bike and do a little "slow,Sunday morning, cruising down the road" ride. Not a lot to say about it, other than it was a good thing I had a pocket full of tissues. I got to see the gang of old men at the Dunkin' Donuts, sitting in their usual Sunday morning spot, the corner table, with their oxygen tanks hooked up. They gave me a smile and a nod, the usual!  Below are the pictures I took with my phone, on this morning.

A moment of silence outside of the church in Pine Meadow, I stopped and joined them for a few minutes. Left with my glasses fogged up and such a feeling of unity.

Everywhere, there were subtle reminders

Peace.

The road I know...

Took an awesome ride today. Started out by myself and didn't take a route sheet, or even a plan. I had a couple of ideas of some routes I wanted to try, but nothing definite. I figured I would just point the bike down a road and go that way, or this way. Since it was MY ride, and mine alone, I made up my own rules. I would take at least one road that I didn't know, and, more importantly, if I saw something I liked I would stop and take a picture (I remembered the point and shoot today!) Go me!

Since I was riding alone, I thought I would use the time wisely. I would meditate and focus my mind, which is usually racing along at the speed of light (unlike my 56 yr old body). I started out early, a little before 8AM, with the sun at my back. First thing that caught my attention was my shadow. Hello, Shadow, I say in my mind, you look marvelous, you look like you have lost some weight.  Good.

The falls in Collinsville

My mind is moving too fast, reel it back in. I am thinking about Irene, the hurricane. What kind of damage am I going to see when I hit Collinsville? What is the river going to look like? I turn the corner and there is the river. Beautiful. I try to reconcile that it is beautiful, and that it devastated my husbands crops.

Early morning steam coming up off the river.

I continue on. I am on roads that I know. My mind is thinking of the Tucson ride. I am not going. If I was on the fence (for various reasons), Irene made it a done deal. There just isn't enough disposable income right now. Period. Not enough money. Definitely a road I know. I tell my mind to stop. Try to focus, riding meditation, quiet the thoughts. Poop, I think it isn't working.

I am now on Rt179, typically I would turn left and go out Rt 44, but today I decide to go straight. It is a road that I know, but not as well as others. I remember that it is hilly. For once, I am remembering right. I go through Canton center, my head is bursting with thoughts the whole time. Shut up, I say to myself. Just shut up.  I am distracted for a minute by the United Methodist Church of North Canton that comes up on my right. Simple, plain in true Methodist fashion, but so beautiful still. Beautiful in it's simplicity, or beautiful because of it's simplicity, I don't know. I don't care.. either way, it is beautiful, and it distracts me from number one, my thoughts, and number two.. the blessed hill.  (A good friend of mine suggested I exchange the word bless, blessed or blessings for a harsher alternative that I sometimes use -- frick of course).  After the church, I came upon a really neat little shed on a property. Had to stop for a picture. I loved the way the light filtered through windows at the top of the building.

I would buy this property just for the cool shed.

Now, this part of Rt 179 I have not been on. I have stayed on 179 as far as the turn for Rt 309, but never any further. So, I am now on a road that I don't know. There is something exciting about being on a road that I don't know, there is also something a little scary. Not knowing what is over the next hill, not knowing what is around the next bend... sort of like life, or sort of like making changes in your life. Thoughts thoughts thoughts, they are not good or bad, just thoughts, thoughts are things. I think about becoming a person standing on the sidewalk, watching traffic go by. I don't react to my thoughts, just let them go by. That seems to quiet them down some.

I keep going and this part of Rt 179 is not for the faint of heart. HILLY! It looks like it will just be some gentle rolling hills, but they are deceiving. They just seem to go up and up. I am stubborn and I keep going. I come upon some state workers, in their big orange trucks. They are standing around the back of the truck, as I pedal up the blessed hill. Good morning, I say, out loud. First words I have spoken out loud since I left the house. I smile and say, this is one blessed hill!  Yep, one of the tells me, and you have a ways more to go.  Just what I needed to hear. Bless it. I eventually come to another group and I stopped for a minute to ask them some directions. I know there is a cross street, but I am not sure how far away it is, and I want to confirm that this street will take me over to Rt 219. They confirm the directions for me and I pedal on.

Eventually I come to Hillcrest Rd. Another road I don't know. I make the left and think to myself.. yup, with a name like Hillcrest there is no doubt a hill involved. And there was, but then surprisingly the road went down. Yes, finally a downhill, or at least a downgrade. I just start to build some speed and right in front of me in the road is a big old tom turkey so I stopped to watch him for a minute. I am a firm believer in animals showing themselves to us for a reason, and seeing a turkey symbolizes all of the blessings that the Earth contains (shared blessings)... funny how I have been using the word bless a lot and I see a turkey, and actually it is the second turkey in two weeks. I wanted to take a picture, but Tom the turkey didn't like me much and started to flare up his tail feathers and flap his wings, so I moved on, quickly.

After I turned off Hillcrest, I was again on a road I know, the downside of Rt 219 (thank goodness it was not the up side, my legs were feeling like butter). Down the hill, up the hill, down the hill. Past the Saville Dam, beautiful spot, and then out to Riverton.  West River Rd..is so pretty, old Federal style antique homes, pretty much no traffic except for the few fishermen going to the river to cast their lines. The broken bridge looks especially pretty today, had to stop and take a picture.

I love the broken bridge, makes me want to see what it looked like when it was whole.

 

 

 

Once in Riverton, I stopped at the General Store, got a snack and another water, used the public toilet, which should be voted the best incidental potty in the State of CT. I was going to head back towards home, but I needed to make some miles, and if I went home, I would be short. So I went out Robertsville Road, again, a road I know, but in the opposite direction. From there, I cut down Rt 8, back towards Winsted, and then back to Riverton on Rt 20, then back on East River Road  headed towards home. I was by the Pleasant Valley Drive In when Bill called and said he would meet me on Rt44. We met up and then decided to go back to Riverton because I was still short on miles. So.. again I head out to Riverton, and again I stop at the General Store (by now the clerk has seen me 3 times, and I can tell she is giving me the greasy eye.  Since I made 3 visits to the General Store, I had to include a picture of it...


Three times a charm, was time to head home. My legs were really rubbery, we hit Rt 44, went back through Collinsville, down my favorite New Road, which although it is New, and it is newly paved, I know it well. It takes me home.

I guess the road home should always be the road we know best.  That is the best thing my head has said all day.

Distance: 62.2 miles
Average speed: 13.1 mph
Max Speed: 36.2
Vertical Climb: 4000+ feet (I argue this, I don't think it was this much)













 

Challenges and Birthdays

Karen and Billy

Art and Billy

If you have been following my blog at all, you know how much I have changed as a cyclist since those first few scary trips down the road. I still have a long way to go before I will consider myself an accomplished cyclist, but each outing gives me more... more strength, more confidence, and definitely more fun :) Each ride also helps me overcome what I have felt are some challenges that I face on the road.

Today's ride was no exception in the learning department. I rode to the commuter lot, something I have been doing a lot of lately. My team gathers at the commuter lot to start our ride. Once there we may have a 'mission minute' when we remember why we are riding (to raise funds to help cure leukemia), or we may have a 'mini clinic' to address some training issue. Or, we just meet there and start the ride. Since I live only 4 miles from the commuter lot, I have taken to 'riding to the ride'. I have become one of those people. I have found that I can ride the 4 miles in about 14 minutes, cruising down route 4 with an average speed of about 16 mph. Not too shabby, considering that when I first started Coach Henry was doubtful that I would be able to maintain the 10mph average that was needed for Tahoe.  The most difficult part of these 4 miles is merging from the shoulder on the right to the left hand turn lane to take a left onto Town Farm Rd and into the lot. Since I was on the road at about 7:30am, I had a lot of morning commuter traffic to deal with while making my merge. POC (piece of cake). One year ago, this would not have been possible for me to do.

Today, Bill (BillyTooTall), Art (our honored hero, 2 time lymphoma/leukemia survivor), and I were going to do a training ride, 56 miles to celebrate Bill's 56th birthday. Sounds like a lot of fun, only I needed to remember that on Saturday I did 63 miles, with quite a bit of climbing, and the route Bill planned for us today also had a lot of climbing (3168 feet according to my phone app).  So, legs were sluggish to say the least. Another challenge, how do I face this hilly ride, starting out on dead legs?

We headed out with a mind set of having fun. We deviated from the planned route a little bit by omitting Lovely Street and heading right to the intersection of Huckleberry Hill and Rt 4, making the short steep grade our first little challenge. Once done with that, and continuing on through the construction we made it up Huck Hill, not bad, it is a nice little climb, and then the dreaded downhill. Now, downhills have always been a challenge for me, but I have made progress. I learned from Jim Kimball and John Ambrose, to slide back and get my weight more over my back wheel, to loosen my vice-like grip on the handlebars and brakes, and to keep my knees close to the bar, I tired putting that into practice today. The downhill isn't long, but it is steep. It has a blind curve and a street that comes out onto it from the other side of the cemetery, one oddly placed manhole cover and then a drainage grate that sits right where my bike wants to be, and then at the bottom, as if to add insult to injury, there is a big, fat, red stop sign. So, although not the hugest of downhills, it poses a challenge for me. I usually go on New Road and take the easy way into Collinsville and avoid Huck Hill altogether. But not today. I was not going to wimp out in front of the men, today, I would conquer that down hill. And I did. I did use my brakes (Brake Free is a little slogan that Charryse came up with to  help me up my game in the downhill department right after I started riding).  And, while I was not totally brake free on Huck Hill, it was the best I have ever done on that hill. I finally learned the right way to feather the brakes (feathering does not equal squeezing with all your strength - who knew!?!?). Yes, I did better, not great, but better! Challenge Huck Hill ... over.
We turned on 179 and then another left onto 202 towards Torrington. The bottom part of 202 was newly paved last year. Awesome job, I tell you! No more raised manhole or drainage grate covers like the last time I was on 202. Only beautiful smooth pavement, and a beautiful steady climb. Once we crossed the Canton town line into New Hartford, you could see the difference in pavement, but we kept climbing.   This is the kind of hill I adore. Rt 202 goes all the way into Torrington, and it climbs the whole way. Never is it very steep,  but a continuous 3-4, maybe 5% grade the whole way. There are a couple of places where the road flattens out some, but not for long. There are no real downhills. There are some 'false flats' as Art calls them, places where you can gear up a little bit and go a little faster, but you are still climbing. Then there is the one spot that really faked me out. We were climbing and I could see the crest of the hill, and then it looked like it would go down (and maybe a little off to the right). So, cresting the hill, I shifted up as I normally would, into a higher gear, getting ready to go downhill, hoping that I could gain momentum to make it up the next grade... HA! There was no downhill. It totally got me! It just went up yet again.  Turning off Rt 202 and onto Torringford St, we stopped at the church for a snack and drink (and I said a short prayer.. Please God, flatten the road!).. ha.. prayers unanswered. The climbing continued, but more in a rolling hill fashion. Ups and downs.. some really, really good downs!!! I was able to hit 38.2 mph. Again, another milestone for me, since last year I would have been squeezing on the brakes so hard I could smell the rubber burning. I think last year my max speed, and that includes Tahoe was 32 mph, so for me, 38 is a great improvement.

We ended up back on Rt 44 in Winsted, headed out to our new favorite ride to Riverton, had another snack and headed back on tired legs (okay, tired legs that were maintaining a pretty good clip!). The bulk of the climbing had been accomplished in the first half of the ride, a good thing, yes, but there is something to be said for pushing on with tired legs. Learning to maintain the energy needed to complete a 109 mile ride, means that at times we will be pushing on with tired legs, best get used to it now!

Today, was a joy, a gift, and I think we squeezed it for every drop of good that was in it. Bill, celebrating his birthday, Art, (again, a 2 time cancer survivor), celebrating being able to ride, and me, just celebrating overcoming a couple of challenges, knowing that a year ago I would have taken the easy way, turned right instead of left, and squeezed the brakes really, really hard.

Interesting things I saw (and want to go back to with my camera):
A hen turkey
A little grouping of 3 antique looking birdhouses in someone's yard
A monster in someones yard, dressed in red, white and blue.. rather resembled some Republicans I have seen lately
The church bell where we stopped for a snack
The broken bridge in Riverton.

My thanks to the general store in Riverton who are willing to sell me one piece of Provolone cheese :) Thanks guys!
And a special thanks to all of my friends and family who are facing special challenges of their own and who rise above. I learn from you!

Hell hath done gone and froze over

Yes, folks, Hell, (as in the hot place, Hades, the realm of Pluto, Satan's Kingdom) yeah, that place has frozen over. The old devil himself is now wearing and overcoat, scarf and mittens. Why??? Because I hate riding my bike on the bike path.

A year and a half ago, if you had told me that I would prefer to ride on the road over the bike path, I would have answered with  "sure, when hell freezes over". Well, I prefer to ride on the road, so hell must have frozen over.  I used to be a regular on my hybrid on the Farmington Valley Greenway. I would go from Farmington up to the Mass line pretty much all on the path. Loved it. I couldn't think about riding on the road, too scary.

Then, I got on the road. I didn't care for it at first and I would do some parts of my training rides on the path, unbeknownst to Coach. But when Coach Henry found out, he pretty much told me I couldn't go on the path anymore. I remember his booming voice ( he could play God in a movie with that voice).."Stay OFF the path!".  His advice was worth listening to, and he had plenty of cause to tell me this 1) I needed to be training for Tahoe, and Tahoe is a road. I need to be used to traffic, and following the rules of the road and how to keep myself in a safe position while sharing the road with cars. and 2)  hills. I needed to be training on hills and the Greenway, as most Rails to Trails, is very flat and doesn't offer much in the way of a variety of terrain.  And, we all know, just like riding on roads, because that is what you will be faced with during your event, you also want to train on hills because that is what you will be faced with during your event. Train for terrain harder than you event is, so that when you come to the event, it is a POC (piece of cake).

So, kicking and screaming I forced myself to ride on the road, I convinced myself that I could tolerate it to appease Henry and get myself ready for Tahoe, but I would never, ever, like it. It would always be scary, there would always be cars that were going too fast, and coming too close.  I would never like it or feel comfortable.
My ride tonight was pretty much just to get some air and a little exercise after work. My shoulders were sore from work (really poor ergonomics), and I didn't want to go too far, just a relaxing little ride. So, I went out to Collinsville and heading up Rt 179 I decided to turn off and try out the newest part of the bike path. A section that runs from Collinsville through to the Canton end of Lovely street.  It is beautiful, picturesque, very green and lush... and flat. The first thing that got my goat, were the stop signs. Too many of them. You couldn't gain any speed, because you had to stop for a cross street every few yards. I think technically you are supposed to dismount and walk your bike across these crosswalks (oops). The second thing that got to me were the pretty brick inlays on both sides of these crosswalks. Very pretty they were, but also a little slippery to my skinny little tires. (I wish my butt was as skinny as my tires, but I digress.) Maybe it was due to the recent rain, who knows.
Another thing that I didn't like were the people. I am sure they are very nice folks, but here is the guy, all the way to the left, and here is his dog all the way to the right, with his 10 foot leash draped across the path like a clothesline. Okay, how many times did I announce myself before he crossed the path to be on the same side as his dog? At least 3. Then there is the couple, who heard "on your left" and thought it meant move left. Okay. The kids on skateboards, people jogging with their heads down -- I bet they find a lot of money that way, but they sure aren't aware that a bike is coming at them from the opposite direction! All of them interrupted my pacing. I was actually uncomfortable riding there, and I didn't like it, and slow!?!?! Oh my goodness, slower than a snail crawling uphill on ice (well maybe not that slow).  I couldn't wait to get back to Rt 179 and continue on my way to Job Lot. Now don't get me wrong, the bike trail is really well done, and so needed in this area. It is a beautiful place to walk and sit on a bench to think and meditate, and maybe it is even the perfect place to ride a hybrid and enjoy nature. But, it is not for me, not anymore.  So, after my ride out to Lovely Street (where they put in a beautiful pergola and meditation benches), I turned and went back to Rt 179, back to the cars going by and the dust being kicked up in my face. Back to where I am comfortable on my bike. So, Satan, I hope you are enjoying your cold snap. I know I am.

The need for speed. Or not.

Maverick: I feel the need...
Maverick, Goose: ...the need for speed!

Have you ever noticed how fast people are moving these days?  On the highway, at the grocery, seems like wherever you go people are trying to go faster.
Yeah, well, that ain't me.  I have proved that by trying to get back into running. So, here is a philosophical question: is my run really a run if it is slower than my walk? Enough of that. I am only venturing out on two feet instead of 2 wheels to do something to keep my bones strong, and I get bored walking so I shuffle. I can actually shuffle about 3 miles without breaking into my walk. Unless, I want to speed up, then I break into my walk. Comical. I really hope nobody is out on the greenway taping me. That would be truly embarrassing. But, no matter how slow, I get my 3 miles done.

Since I am training for the fall ride with Team in Training, (El Tour de Tucson) which is a relatively flat (hallelujah!) ride, and I am not training to ride the hills (can we just call them mountains?) of Lake Tahoe, I am starting to feel the need for (a bit) of speed! I will never be a rider like Paulie, he isn't human, he rides up Mt Washington on his bike. Yes, his bike climbed Mt Washington, my car has not even done that. I will never be like Matty the punk. Matty just turned 30, I can call him a punk. You know, someone who is only 30 can go out the night before, have a few drinks and still get up and ride 100 miles the next day.  Yeah, I remember being 30, a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.   I will never ride like that skinny little fart, Jim Kimball. I just ride like me, a little faster than I used to be, a little faster than some, not as fast as most, but I get there.

I have made a lot of progress over the last year and a half on my bike. The hill on 44, that I did on my first ride ever on my new bike, with sneakers and flat pedals, huffing and puffing like old engine number 9, shifting wrong, is not a hill to me anymore. Sure, I am still slow on the climbs, but I can make the climbs.  Coach Henry said I was a stronger rider than I give myself credit for. And that may very well be true. I am a strong rider, maybe not a fast rider, but a strong rider.  Some of the progress I have made has been in the way of technique. I learned to pedal downhill... it helps get your keester up the next hill. I have started standing on the pedals, when I crest a hill, just to break the tension a little bit. And, I can actually drink while I am on the bike. That is a new skill I developed this year, goodbye camelback! I rejoice in the little milestones.

Since I am training for a flatter ride, I will tend to ride flatter terrain around here. And, since I am riding flatter terrain, I will tend to go a little faster. My average speed is now getting up to over 14mph, when it used to be a little better than 12 or 13 mph.   Not a huge amount faster, but a little. And, I am okay with that. I am not trying to be Paulie, or Matty, or Jim the skinny little fart. I am trying to be me. Me on a bike, enjoying the ride, noticing the scenery (seeing the wild turkeys in the driveway that those up ahead of me totally missed!), loving the weather (even if it is like riding into a hair dryer -- thanks Alison for the analogy), and clearing my mind. I guess the bottom line, is that it doesn't matter how fast I finish, but that I finish.


ps: Cancer sucks.

psps:  Spent a day in June taking pictures of the TNT runners that were doing the Fairfield Half Marathon, had a blast and got this great shot of Jamie Botteon, College Freshman, DI soccer player, and leukemia survivor. Go Jamie!