PACE BEND ULTRA, 2020

     Two years in a row with great weather (for the 3-hour race).  Last year I did this on my time trial bike but this year I decided to go with my very fast Trek Emonda.  In terms of speed, that was a mistake.  I could have broken with tradition and put a water bottle cage on the bike, thus eliminating the hydration problem.  I was also remembering how my neck and wrists felt after that race.  Besides, while we call this a race, for me it's just a hard workout.  Without age-group divisions, I know where I'll end up.  I refer you to my February 3, 2019 post for some additional background.
     Our race started at 11:00 am so I arrived about 9:15 am and checked into registration, picked up my timing chip and the rest of the packet and prepared to do a warm-up lap.  My computer wouldn't turn on.  Pook!  I used my phone and Strava to record the ride.  Last year it took 24:11, this year was 26:22.  Because I wasn't really racing, the warm-up ended about a half hour before the start.  That gave me time to take off my tights and switch from cold weather jacket to wind-breaker.  The temperature when I left the house was 37, when I arrived at Pace Bend 47, and race time about 64.  Three hours later it was 77.
     Meanwhile, I whined to my mates on Slack that I couldn't turn on my computer and was advised (thanks Todd) to give it a hard boot by holding the on/off button for 30 seconds.  It took several tries, but just before the start it booted up and I was able to have data.  Except for heart-rate.  When it looked like I wouldn't have computer data I took off my HR strap.  Not that I planned to monitor my HR, but I think Training Peaks uses it in their algorithms.
     So, off we went, something like fifteen of us, maybe nine men and six women.  I eased into the ride and was quickly watching the others pull ahead.  Last year my first lap was 18:56, this year 20:39.  I had hoped for twenty minutes.  Twenty minute laps comes out to nine in three hours.  Of course, I knew I'd slow down, but that would give me thirty minutes to divide into the remaining laps  to give me the eight.   So I cruised along, happy with my cadence, and going up and down the gears to keep everything smooth.
     When lap two came in at 21:17 I started calculating (having nothing else to do while I pedaled along) if I was going to make eight laps or not.  Lap three came in at 23:19 and four at 23:56.  The wind picked up and I knew I couldn't go faster, so eight laps went out the window.  After the sixth lap I eased up even more, knowing I had seven and couldn't make eight.  Just as well, my right piriformis was beginning to complain.  I finished with fifteen minutes to spare, but since it was taking twenty-five, I was ten minutes short of making eight.  Thank goodness I wasn't closer, like needing a twenty minute lap to make eight.  I would have gutted it out.
     As it was, Training Peaks gave me four gold medals for 10,20, 60, and 90 minute power.  I just needed to be pushing a larger gear.  My normal Monday morning includes a 5:00 am trip to the Y to get in a leg workout.  I'll put that off until Tuesday.  Meanwhile I'm working on the piriformis and will take a recovery cruise later today. (Note: once I got going on the hurt, it wasn't the piriformis, but ha to do with the greater trochanter.  Doesn't really matter, other than it hurts to move my right leg). Neck is good, wrists are good, HR back to normal this morning.  All in all, I'm quite pleased with how things turned out.

   
   

CANARY IN THE COAL MINE

     I've written about my friend Dean before.  He is a former Senior Games national champion and we occasionally team up to compete in team competition, winning more than not.  For two out of five years we are competitors in solo races.  The other three years he is "safe."  When we first met fifteen years ago, he beat me like a drum.  For the last couple of years I've been faster.  But that's neither here nor there.
     I use Dean as my canary.  He's three years older than I, probably closer to four.  At our age a couple of years makes a big difference.  I remember when he turned 68 he said that that was as fast (i.e. strong) as he could be, and from then on he couldn't get faster.  Well, he continued to beat me, but not by as much and a few years later I finally could take him in the time trials and be competitive in the road races.  But then I turned 68.  I didn't get faster.
     But what with working harder, longer, and new technology, I didn't get any slower.  Experience also helped.  My best years, competitively, were when I was 71 and 72.  Then faster guys entered the age group. Of course, when I turned 75 I left them behind for a few years.   My times stayed relatively the same for about ten years.
     When we meet a couple of times a year at races, I always check him out and discuss what he is going through.  A little while ago he said he could no longer do two hard training days in a row.  If he had a hard day, he would take the next day off.  Well, two weeks ago I did a long, hard ride and had to take the next day off, and the second day was still recovery mode.  This past Monday I rode four miles longer and finished about the same time.  I managed to do a recovery ride on my trainer on Tuesday, but my legs are still tired.  It may take a few years before I have to completely take the next day off, but that day is coming.  My canary told me so.

KNOWING IS NOT ALWAYS DOING

     Years ago I wrote a tutorial about the proper way to change a tube.  So I know how to change a tube.  Doesn't mean I follow that procedure all the time, and yes, occasionally it comes back to bite me.  But this isn't about tubes again.  But first a little background.
     Next week I'll be during a three hour race at Pace Bend Park.  Not the six, twelve or twenty-four hour races that are part of the week-end.  I'm not a fan of Pace Bend, but this year have three races there.  It's a ~six mile loop with some challenging climbs.  Last year I used my time trial bike with a 32 cog and managed to get up the hills, but after a few laps the one big hill really slowed me down and my neck was killing me (see Feb 4, 2019 post).  That remains an option, but Plan A is to go with the Trek Emonda and switch out the 11-25 cassette with an 11-30, which is what I did for Nationals in Colorado.  A few days ago I made the switch.
     Removing and replacing a cassette is quite simple as long as you have the proper tools: chain whip, Shimano cassette tool, wrench.  But you have to pay attention.  In the past I've managed to 1) lose a spacer and not notice and 2) put two gears back in the wrong order.  So embarrassing!  Not that I did it, but couldn't figure out why and had to take it to the shop for them to figure out why it wouldn't shift properly.  And 3) replace the wrong lock ring.  Another trip to the shop to find out that yes, you cannot interchange different speed lock rings (I think it was a 9 instead of a 10).  CONSTANT VIGILANCE!  as Professor Moody would say avoids these traps.
     And one more thing to be careful about: replacing the lock ring.  It is very easy to get this cockeyed.  Which is why I always use my fingers up until the final tightening with the wrench.  Except a few days ago.  I put it on and gave it a twist to make sure it was properly seated then wrenched it tight.  I wasn't paying attention.  It crossed my mind that it didn't feel like all the other times in the past, but that didn't generate any action.
     So yesterday on the BSS Research ride, I could hear something rattle in the back.  Keep in mind I'm deaf in one ear and take my hearing aid out of the other when I ride.  I couldn't locate the source of the rattle.  While moving, I checked the bottle cages and the tail-light.  Finally at a short rest stop I got off the bike and checked the cassette.  It was loose.  Well that was eight miles into a twenty-five mile ride.  But once I determined the cause, and that it wouldn't fall off, I settled down for the duration.
     Once home I removed the cassette and carefully replaced everything, this time being extremely careful of the lock ring.  Then I double checked all was tight.
     Check back next week to see if I've gone with Plan A, or return to the TT bike.  And when working on your bike, give it your full attention.
   

SUCK IT UP, BUTTERCUP!

     I'm running out of excuses to avoid riding.  But that won't stop me from whining about it.  A well-outfitted cyclist has apparel for all kinds of weather.  I consider myself well-outfitted.  Whether or not I choose to wear them is the crux of the situation.  Let me point out a few revelations, most of which are not new to me.

     I don't like being cold.  I have tights (Under Armour calls them fitted leggings).  I even have fleece tights for really cold weather (thanks, Byran).  I have a nice thermal jacket, full finger gloves, winter socks.  I have a buff that doubles as a balaclava.  In cold weather I especially like to have my ears covered.  But it isn't the temperature that keeps me off the bike.  It's either the lack of sunshine or a brisk wind.  A combination of both will generally push me onto the trainer in the kitchen.  Of course, the remedy for this is to ride with a group.  Groups mostly have an upbeat attitude which overcomes cloudy days, and you can find someone to ride behind to hide from the wind.  That's more difficult during the week, when most folks have to work.

     I don't like being wet.  I have a rain jacket, rain pants, booties, even a helmet cover.  I see nothing positive from going out and slogging through the rain.  That said, I've been known to pack my rain jacket in case I get caught in the rain.  I'll check the radar and if it looks possible, then off I go.  Maybe if I just cleaned my bike I'll wait for a better day.  Of course, I have more than one bike, so that is an option.

     I don't like riding at night.  I have lights.  Not the zillion lumen ones that you can land a plane with, but sufficient.  I found out recently (Christmas lights ride that I bailed on) that my light attachment doesn't really fit the new handlebars on my Roark, and would not stay firm.  So I need to engineer a fix. Plus, the night vision is beginning to wane (old age, enough said).  It will take something extraordinary to get me out at night.  Of course, gloomy daylight might require a flashing headlight, especially for in-city riding.

     I really don't like wind.  It is depressing to be working your muscles so hard and see 10 mph on the computer.  This was somewhat mollified when I started using a power meter and training with it.  If the schedule calls for 180 watts, it doesn't matter if you're going 10 or 12 mph.  I'd rather be doing 20-22, but what the heck.  If I'm out in a stiff wind for a couple hours however, I won't do it two days in a row.  Wind really beats me up.

     I know what I need to do to achieve my goals.  It's either suck it up or change my goals.  Stay tuned.  

FORGET ME NOTS

     Sorry, this is a cycling blog, not horticultural.  Because if you ride long enough, you will have arrived at the start of a ride or worse, race, and have forgotten an important element.  My Toyota Rav 4 is rarely a passenger vehicle, mostly it carries bikes and cycling equipment.  I have two bags, one for spare tires, tubes, helmet and one for clothes such as jersey, shorts, tights, wind jacket, head bands, gloves, aprés riding clean T shirt. They are available to anyone who needs something, no need to give them back.  I don't have spare shoes yet, but I've once brought the wrong pair, Look rather than Shimano cleats.  No ride that day.
     There is an explanation for today.  Today I drove the twenty minutes to Old Settlers Park with a recovery ride on the agenda.  I parked in the usual spot, got out and opened the back door to bring out the bike and was surprised to see nothing there.  Pook, Ding-fu!!  So I returned to the driver's seat and hooked 'em on home.  Forty-five minutes later I again parked the car and prepared to ride.
     I'm rationalizing here, there really is no excuse to go on a bike ride without a bike.  But I'm playing the "old" card on this one.  Here is the sequence of events.  Yesterday was my "hill" ride and for that I need low gears.  My custom titanium bike now is outfitted with a triple,  28-32 low.  I can manage Courtyard and Jester on it.  The foreseeable future has no large climbs, so this morning after my gym workout (5:15-6:15 am, legs) I switched bikes. But it's more than just taking one bike out of the car and putting the other one in.  I also have to switch the Stages Power Meter (because you wouldn't want to not have data for your Strava  posting) and the Roark has Shimano mountain bike pedals, the Emonda has Speedplays.
     Switch complete, I hung up the Roark and put the Emonda on an old rack I've attached to the garage wall since I have multiple bikes. Then it was time for coffee, then breakfast.  In order to work on the bikes, I moved the car outside and put the door down since it was still chilly.  Usually the last action taken before heading out is to attach the electronics, in this case only the computer since a taillight isn't necessary at OSP.  This is where I think I got off track.  Usually the bike is already in the car when I attach the Garmin.  Today it was still hanging on the garage wall, plus I did it early.
     I exited the kitchen door, out the garage and into the car.  Lord knows where my mind was, it wasn't on cycling.  I also usually glance in the rear view mirror to see if all is well, not today.
     It was a good ride once I got going.  The forty-five minute delay allowed the temperature to rise another 5 or so degrees, so I was comfy in jersey and wind jacket (thanks Todd), plus tights (under 65 degrees, cover the knees).  So I urge you rather than toss worn items, save them for one last emergency and keep them handy in your car.  But a spare bike might be a tad too much.

TUBES

     Ten plus years ago, on a BSS Sunday ride, one of our group had a flat after riding through glass.  As we do, we gathered around while he changed out the tube.  When he pulled out the flat tube, we were astonished to see at least a half dozen patches.  I'm thinking more like ten or twelve, but don't want to seem like an extremist.  As he once again repaired his tube, he explained that the patches work quite well and he saw no need to continually replace a perfectly good tube.  That mental image has stuck in my mind.
     But I wasn't a convert.  Except for a few notable exceptions, I went for years without changing a tube on the road.  Besides, again for a few notable exceptions, I'm terribly inept at patching a tube.  So for the few times I had a flat, I'd put in a new tube, bring the old one home to do an autopsy, then toss it.
     That changed recently.  Some time ago I started getting flats when riding out of Old Settlers Park, and it was always the same cause: a small bit of wire, part of a small staple commonly used to attach cardboard signs to stakes.  I suspect someone dropped a handful, they got scattered and, being hard to see, were left in the parking lot (I'm being generous, in that the other alternative is that it was a deliberate act by a bike-hater).  After a spate of flats, I finally came back to saving money, and time, and start patching when appropriate (like a small hole not on a seam).  A side note: I carry a container of quick patches, just in case the replacement tube is defective.  That has also happened to me.
     When loading the bike yesterday I found the front tire flat and quickly changed out the tube.  This morning I dug out my vulcanizing patch kit, not the quick patches, purchased about five years ago but never used.  I located the tiny hole in the tube and opened the kit.   It's been maybe fifteen years since I patched a tire.  Really.  So the first thing I had to remember was does the orange side or the black side go down?  Okay, orange. Sand paper the tube surrounding the hole.   Next I punctured the sealant tube and applied the sealant (precisely it is a reactive agent that binds the patch to the tube, but let's not get picky).  Slap on the patch and hold.  And hold.  And hold.  There are no instructions on the package, but when everything was dry, I let go.  Seemed good.
     I put some more air in the tube and had breakfast.  After breakfast the tube had zero air in it.  Bummer!  Still inept.  I reviewed my procedure in my head several times, wondering what I did wrong.  Becoming frustrated, I turned to Google.  Park Tools has a good You Tube video on patching tires.  Aha!  I didn't let the vulcanizing agent dry before applying the patch.  I also aired up the tube a bit to see if it would hold air.  Big No No.  You need to put the tube into the tire before supplying air.  Otherwise it puts too much pressure on the patch.  Try again.
     Fortunately, I had a spare tire upon which to practice.  Applied the patch as directed, installed into the tire (first time in a long time I didn't put just a bit of air in to round it up a bit), and pumped it up to 30 pounds.  Checked to make sure all was properly seated then went up to 90 pounds.  An hour later, it is still holding.  Cautiously optimistic.

MISSISSIPPI RIVER LEVEE RIDE

     Regular readers will remember that several years ago I realized that of the forty states I had ridden in, the four states bordering Texas were not included.  I set out to remedy that and immediately booked a tour (Velo View Tours, my go-to company for fantastic experiences) in New Mexico and followed that up with a gravel tour in Arkansas.  A little research this year revealed the hike/bike levee ride out of New Orleans.  Marilane and I love New Orleans, and made it an addition after a necessary trip to Baton Rouge.  I'm only including the cycling experience in this blog.
     When planning the trip we hadn't even considered a bone-chilling cold front.  It wasn't a surprise, the forecast a week out predicted it.  I had my cold weather gear packed.  While I prefer to leave early and finish early, the 32 degrees (F) low had me waiting a few hours to allow the sun to warm things up a tad.  Two hours after sun up, the temperature finally budged up to 34.  Pook!  As I've gotten older I generally wait until over 40 degrees before venturing out on training rides.  I bade Marilane have a good tour of the WWII museum, picked up our car, and drove to Audubon Park.
     https://www.traillink.com/trail/mississippi-river-trail-(louisiana)/ says the trail is 60.8 miles in length and goes all the way to the Bonnet Carré Spillway.   https://www.alltrails.com/trail/us/louisiana/mississippi-river-trail shows this as 25.7 miles and I suspect there is some break-up after that.  In any case, my plan was only for the 25 miles out, then back.    From parking lot to trail was only a quarter mile, then I was off on my new adventure.
     Less than a minute into riding I stopped to adjust my buff.  I'd covered my ears and head, but now included lips and chin.  The northeast wind was biting, even though probably no more than 8 mph.  Off again.  Mid-week and cold, I had the trail to myself.  Looking down at the computer just brought tears to my eyes, so I kept my head up and watched the cars on the street to my right.
     As I knew I would, after about ten minutes most of my body was comfortably warm.  The exceptions were my nose and fingers (even with long-fingered gloves).  I knew the river was on my left but couldn't see it.  On my right were houses. Let's get to my recommendations and expectations for cycling this yourself.
     There are occasional views of the river.  I saw large ocean-going ships anchored mid-river, a few docked and loading or unloading.  Mostly I looked at the houses below the levee.  Apparently this is prime real estate, in that all the houses were well kept, lots of really large homes with large lots.  There is no "scenery," but the asphalt is smooth.  This ride is best done with one or more friends so you can comment on the houses, boats, airplanes (the trail goes close to the airport, I had a landing plane go over my head).  You will probably use three gears,


tops, but mostly just the one gear.  I've read reviews saying this is a boring ride.  It certainly can be, you just need to adjust your expectations.  If you have a choice, pick a nice springtime day, mid-week.  In my forty miles I saw six cyclists, three skate-boarders, maybe ten folks walking dogs, two joggers.  A day on the weekend will see whole lots more.
     Back to my ride.  As I approached Destrehan, I got tired of not feeling my numb fingers and I wasn't pedaling a decent speed.  It was time to turn around.  I pedaled past the Destrehan Plantation (you could tour it as a break in your ride) and stopped a little ways further under the I-310 bridge at a trash can to use as a bike prop.  I walked around in small circles, one hand under my armpit, the other holding a Clif bar.  I usually restrict my breaks to five minutes or less but this was an exception that lasted maybe ten.  The feeling returned to the fingers and I mounted up for the return trip.  Pook, ding-fu!  The wind shifted a bit, from northeast (in my face) to east (now on my left shoulder).  I had hoped to have it somewhat behind me.  Of course, with the turning of the river, sometimes it was.  In any case, my time out was about the same as the time back: 92 minutes out, including break and 88 minutes back, including potty stop.  There are nice rest rooms next to the levee in St. Rose.
     Perhaps in the future I'll have another, better, opportunity to see if this really goes to Bonnet Carré Spillway.  Better yet, why don't you go and email me how it was.