Thursday, July 2, 2009

268. Sufferfest

I have had kind of a long week and I have more miles on my saddle than in any previous 7 day period all year. Saturday I rode 100 miles in the MS. 100 miles that looks like 13 minutes on my Garmin because somehow I must have bumped the on/off button while traveling and the battery was dead. There is nothing like riding a century and not knowing how fast you are going or how many miles you have gone. Oh ya and to the douche who said to me "How would I know" when I asked how many miles we had to go.. Look at your F ing cycle computer you dick. With stops and lunch I finished in 6 hours 30 minutes. I had planned on riding with some guys from work or hooking up with the Revo group but that plan was shattered when our Corporate affairs person saw me going to the line and grabbed me to be in a photo. Great 270 pounds stuffed into a 200 lb Lycra bag which will now be on display for my everyone in my company to see. Not a good image. Anyhow the group I planned on riding with went off at 7 am and I was left to fend for myself. I found someone who I have ridden with in past years so I thought this will work out. Just before we leave his wife says something like. Hey I will be in the hotel room if you want to cut the ride short. Hmm guess what happened? Cannot blame the guy Hotel alone no kids. So I rode 70 miles trying to jump on any train of riders I could hang on with. It seemed like every time I got in on the right group going the my pace they would pull into a rest stop. After a while I gave up and rode it alone.

Saturday night I found an old friend from College and we decided to ride together Sunday. We rode 40 miles. I had nothing. I averaged 17 mph including the rest stops but every time the road went up hill even slightly I had nothing. I would have done the 75 mile route but Karl wanted to get home early and when we hit the canyon we had a 20 mph head wind and that pretty much made my decision.

So Monday my legs feel like someone has just dropped a bowling ball on the top of each thigh. After work I decide to just go out and take Mookie for a ride to the holding pond at the bottom of Corner canyon. When we get there it is empty. Mookie proceeds to drink my whole watter bottle but we spin around for 30 minutes and I generally feel much better.

Tuesday I pull Erich out of retirement. And get him to ride with me. We rode up Clarks and around Corner Canyon. Nice ride nothing too hard except Clark's which is always hard for me. Erich crashes which is nothing new. His elbow, Knee and shoulder are scraped up. The kid always has scabs on his knees and elbows from riding. Or should I say crashing. Susan wants to wrap him in foam.

Wednesday rolls around and we have decided to do the rest of the Solitude series. Long story short I Dnf'ed. I have never been so happy to get a flat tire. Last night I had assumed my rightful place in the universe. DFL in the sport class. I was climbing the single track (crawling in the granny gear) towards the roundhouse and psssst. I hopped off the bike and Stan's was blowing out of the puncture like crazy. I think OK great here we go. Flip the bike over and try to get the tire inflated. Somehow I bought threaded CO2 cartridges. This is something that is a big mistake when you cannot see straight and no longer remember your kids names because you have no oxygen left in your body. My inflator will actually work with a threaded cartridge but this took some thinking and clearly I could no longer think. After about 3 minutes of trying to get the inflator to work it occurs to me that the cartridge is threaded and I see the head has threads and I can just screw it into the head. Now the thing works. I have watched all the Fast guys pass me and offer encouragement. I am thinking unpleasant thoughts about the skinny fast guys and how they would all look if they were thrown in the river. ( I really harbor no ill feelings toward the skinny fast people other than evny) The tire inflates but immediately blows sealant allover and goes flat again. So at this point I know I am going to DNF because there is no way I want to push the bike across and down the mountain. So I use my last cartridge, jump on the bike and immediately head down the paved road to the base. I can hear the hiss every revolution of the wheel and I just know it will be flat any second. Amazingly it finally seals and I coast down with about 5 lbs pressure in my wheel. This is my first ever DNF. Well at least the only one I can remember. I always finish so I felt just a little bit guilty because I did have a tube and I could have gone that route. But to be completely honest I was not feeling it unless it was misery.

I guess there is always next week.

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