Training Update
2015 DD2tB Recap
How hot was it? It was so hot that I saw two trees fighting over a dog. Ba dump pa!
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| This was the route for the 2015 DD2tB. The rest stops are indicated by the balloons. |
The question of the day was, had I confused tough with stupid again? Well, the answer might not be that clear cut. I really think that after the 2015 Double Down 2 the Beach, I might actually be both of those. I completed the ride, but I am pretty sure I was close to death at the end. There were 70 riders registered, 64 that started the ride, and 49 that completed it. Each of those who embarked on this ride has their own very personal story to tell about their experience. I have nothing but respect for each and every one of these guys and girls who participated in this double century. You all are amazing!
This will be my story, as seen through my perceptions and at sometimes hallucinations. The ride started out much like any other event type ride that I have ridden. There was the preparation for the ride, goals developed, and a game plan formed. I had done a double century two years ago in this same event and done very well, so I knew what to expect...or so I thought.
As the date of the ride approached, I was comfortable with my distance training and felt very confident that I could make the distance, and do it quite a bit faster than I had the previous time. I had set an early goal for myself of averaging 20 mph for the 200 mile ride. It would be my fastest endurance ride to date, but knowing that I would be able to share the workload with a paceline, I felt that it was doable.
With my goal set, I started to look at the weather in the weeks approaching June 13th. At first, heavy storms were forecasted with winds gusting into the upper 30 mph range. This was no good, but I didn't stress it too much since weather forecasts that far in advance usually aren't all that accurate. The good news with what I was seeing though was that the temperatures were looking to be in the 70's. If the wind would calm down, and the storms would turn into showers, life would be great!
The forecast did change as the days passed. The temperature climbed, the winds dropped, and the storms turned into scattered showers. This was looking pretty good! I was getting stoked. With just a few days to go, the forecast had all but eliminated the rain chances, and the winds were calming to around 10 mph. But wait...there's more....the winds were going to be coming from the West! That is a gift for sure, there is never a tail wind for Double Down, much less for the whole route. "A" group, here I come!!!!
I had been talking with a friend of mine, Omar Meer for quite a while leading up to the ride. We had been on a similar training program since the winter months and were shaping up to be very comparable based on our metrics from our various rides. We had pretty much decided that we would ride this ride together and we both felt up to joining the "A" group. While neither of us had achieved this kind of speed on an endurance ride before, we both felt like this was going to be the time to make it happen. We made our intentions clear and became a part of the fast group.
The closer we got to the big day though, the temperatures were climbing even higher. What had been looking like upper 80's was now in the mid 90's. I had ridden in temperatures like this before, but not over about 50 miles. I knew that the effects of the temperature would cause problems with not only my speed, but my endurance as well. to make matters worse, we were starting to hear from other "A" group members that they were intending on skipping several of the rest stops. This would mean roughly 60 miles between stops, while carrying a 20 mph average. Doing the fuzzy math in my head, I could see that my chances of completing the ride with the "A" group were looking pretty bad, and honestly, I was worried about my ability to complete the ride at all after putting that kind of effort into it before the heat even became a factor.
Omar and I discussed our concerns and came up with a final game plan. Instead of riding with the fast group until we couldn't hang on any longer, we opted to back down to the B+ group with the hopes of averaging about 19 mph, but doing it without dipping into our own reserves and not getting spit out of the paceline due to fatigue. Omar even found another veteran to join who, like him, had ridden this ride for the previous two years. We had our core group and a game plan of sticking with the B+ group for the whole ride.
It was time to start packing up and getting the bike ready. I had just completed a few medium intensity rides at the beginning of the week, so I needed to get the chain cleaned, everything checked and wipe the frame down real good before Saturday. While I was doing my inspections, I found that the tires were in good shape despite being about 3000 miles old. The chain was checking in at about 50% wear, so there was no need to swap that out for this ride. The frame looked good, brakes were nice and solid, and the shifting was smooth. The only problem issue that I found was the head tube which was getting loose again. I had just tightened it up in April before doing the Assault on the Carolinas and knew that it shouldn't be this loose again, this soon. I made the decision to take it to Paul's to get the head set adjusted and make sure that the bearings were in good shape. I had also noticed a slight crack in my sunglasses on my last ride that were under a lifetime warranty. I went ahead and took the bike and the glasses to Paul's on Wednesday with hopes of getting everything taken care of my Friday.
The glasses turned out to not be an issue at all. Dennis called Tifosi and explained my problem, and in addition, the time element we were working with. Tifosi said that they would expedite a replacement lens and have it to me by Friday. Awesome customer service both from Tifosi and Paul's! I also found out what the problem with the headset was with very little digging. It seems that there were not enough spacers stacked below the cap and it was causing it not to be able to clamp down like it should. Even though the bolt was torqued down, there was no clamping force at all on the stem. With an extra spacer added above the stem courtesy of Dale's secret stash, I was back in business! In addition to these minor repairs, I had also had to replace the cleats for my Speedplay's a few days before when I noticed that one of the ears had broken a little bit. This would eventually allow the spring to pop out of the cleat and render them useless. It would seem like I was running into quite a few issues with mechanicals before the ride even started. Oh well, I would always rather get these things out of the way early than wait for a failure on the route.
I was packed, the bike was ready, I had spent three days carbing up, and I had worked out a cue sheet for Toni who, along with our daughter Sierra was going to be providing my own personal SAG support for the day. It was a hurry up and wait affair now...at least until Friday when things started to get hectic.
The day started out calm enough, I woke up early so I could go to sleep early. I drank as much water as I could stand and waited for my Tifosi lenses to get in. Shortly after lunch, I found out that they were there, so I went by Paul's to pick them up. I grabbed a couple of spare tubes as well...just in case. From there it was off to Burlington to check in at the Alamance Regional Hospital...not as a patient, but as a rider. It was very nice of them to help sponsor the ride and give us a great place to start out, and leave some of the cars.
Packet pickup went well and I got all my swag that went along with the ride. I had the opportunity to talk with Jeff Wiggins and a few of the other organizers about the ride. They shared with me that the route was a very good one this year and had the potential to be a very fast one. They also expressed concern for the weather. There was still no rain forecast with the possible exception of an afternoon shower or two. The winds were still supposed to be from the West which was still looked at like a gift. The concern was about the temperature. The forecasted highs were now looking like 97 degrees with a heat index well over 100. This is hot no matter how you look at it, but riding a bike on the blacktop with little shade makes this heat a health concern. I was really happy that I had made the choice to drop down to the "B+" group and conserve my energy, as well as taking advantage of the rest stops.
When I got back home, Toni had my dinner waiting for me. It was the same meal that had gotten me through Double Down two years ago, only she is a much better cook than me! After dinner, I went through the mental checklists of everything that I needed to take, made a last minute visual check of the bike and went to sleep. Did I mention that I went to sleep at 8:30...before the normal bed time for my 10 year old! I was going to need it though, because my morning would start at 2:30 sharp!
The Day of the Ride
This is not my awake face. I am pretty sure that adrenaline and nerves are driving me at this point. I was happy to see that there was no rain, no clouds, and the breeze was still in the right direction. The current 77 degree temperature did have me concerned though. We had about 45 minutes worth of driving to do before we arrived at the starting point. Before leaving, I grabbed two bagels for breakfast and drank one more bottle of water. It was time to start making the march East. At least this leg was a comfortable one sitting in the truck. We arrived at just a little before 5am which gave me plenty of time to sign in, and start getting dressed.
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| Nothing like a little parking lot strip show |
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| Ever wonder what a cyclist wears beneath their jersey? Didn't think so. |
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| The mandatory "before" picture |
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| From left to right, Robert Powell, Omar Meer, and yours truly |
At about 5:20, we all lined up at the start line, near the front of the group. We were not in the "A" group, but wanted to make sure that we were in the group right after them so that we could ride at the pace that we were intending. There were a few short remarks made by the planning committee where they mentioned some points of concern along the route and recommended that we not be doubled up through those areas. The appropriate warnings were made about the heat as well. With that out of the way, we had a very low key "gentlemen start your engines" and we were off.
Before we left the parking lot, I went ahead and got the question out of the way that everyone wanted to ask..."Are we there yet?" Well, at least nobody threw anything at me. The breeze was great, and the temperature was perfect. Now if the sun would just not come up and we could ride just like this all day! But alas, the sun would come up, and it would impact the temperature dramatically from the mid 70's we were seeing right now.
It seemed that early on Omar and I broke away from Robert along with a large portion of the rest of the riders. We actually ended up in a group that eventually dwindled down to just three riders. We stayed in visual contact with the "A" group through much of the first 30 mile leg. We were making great speed, and not feeling taxed at all. The three of us were very well matched and seemed that we were rolling at a pace that could go all day long! Personally, I was liking this arrangement, but Omar and the other rider felt that we would do better in a larger group to share the work a little bit more. They were right, of course, but I'll always prefer a smaller group. The plan was to wait at the first rest stop for the rest of the "B" group to join in so we could be absorbed into a larger peloton.
Rest Stop #1
The first rest stop happened at 33 miles on a road named Chicken Bridge Rd. At this point, none of us were even feeling like we were riding a bike. It was all so easy at this point. The weather was still perfect, the breeze was to our backs and life was good. As we pulled in, I saw both Toni and Sierra waiting on me. They had my supplies ready and my dark lenses ready to replace my amber ones. It would have been a short break, but we had decided to wait on the next group in to join up with. I didn't argue because I was outvoted, and I wanted to spend a few extra minutes with my family so it all worked out.
It wasn't long before the next group rolled in. They had already absorbed Robert so he was back with us once again. A few minutes of supply refreshing and we were all off once again. This leg was not near as nice as the first one. I found myself in a large group with very little organization to it. We were also hitting the hills here and it seemed that there was one particular cyclist that every time we hit a hill he would stand and throttle up the climb, just to slow down rapidly at the top. This created the dreaded accordion effect with the group, and caused us all to slam on brakes, and then sprint to close gaps. Personally, I can't stand this kind of riding and was looking forward to when that particular rider rotated to the rear. However, that seemed to never happen.
I was fortunate that a few holes opened up that I was able to work my way up along with Omar. We got near the front, and I saw a gap open up in front of Omar. He wasn't taking it, so I pulled around and tried to get him to latch onto my wheel which I thought that he did. I closed the gap and joined in with a handful of other riders. we were riding single file, and life was good again. I heard from behind me that he had my wheel. It sounded like Omar so I didn't worry about anything else. We continued on, and I worked my way up to the pole position eventually and did my pull. It felt really good, and I was able to keep the momentum of the group going. When I dropped back, I looked for Omar who was nowhere to be found. I was now at the end of the paceline of only about a half dozen or so. I asked about Omar, but nobody knew what had happened to him. I thought about holding back for him, but didn't want to be left out in the wind alone not knowing how far back he was. I opted to stay with this group and try to meet up with him at the next rest stop. The remainder of the leg went off without a hitch and we were really moving. My average had moved into the 20's already and I wasn't feeling the least bit taxed. This was going to be a great day in the saddle. My nervousness was gone, and I was in the groove of riding. Everything was going so smoothly.
As we came through Apex, it seemed like there were more bikes than cars on the roads. We would pass multiple groups and individuals out for their Saturday rides. I still wonder if they knew what we were in the process of doing or not. One such group I saw ahead while I was leading the way looked to have numbers on their jerseys. As we got closer, I could make out two women with our race numbers affixed. Based on how I knew the groups to be proceeding, I estimated that they had been spit out of the "A" group as I was worried would have happened to me had I opted to start with that group. I again felt that I had made the right decision. As I passed them by, I said "hop on" and they gladly added themselves onto the paceline. Yeah, the day was going great. We had another pair of strong riders added to our group which was moving with a purpose down the road.
Rest Stop #2
At 68 miles we pulled into the Valero station on Ten Ten Rd. Once again Sierra and Toni were there to meet me. As you can see, I'm still all smiles at this point. I was feeling great. I was just getting warmed up, and the weather was still perfect. I could feel the humidity creeping up, but it didn't feel that hot, and for that I was very thankful. I replenished my supplies and Toni forced me to eat something solid. I had consumed two bottles of my Hammer Perpetuem and was actually not hungry at all. However, I knew I did need some extra calories in my belly, and I figured that a couple of macaroons would do the trick. They tasted very good and did hit the spot.
I took this time to ask about Omar. He had not called Toni yet, and for some reason his live feed through Garmin was not showing up on his Facebook page. We could not track him, and I didn't know what had happened to him. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was in similar shape to me and should not have fallen back so far. We started to get worried. I kept an eye on the other riders that I had come in with to make sure that I didn't miss them leaving. Fortunately, it seemed like they were taking their time at this stop and one of the riders was getting a mechanical issue addressed by the Cycles de Oro guys. The minutes passed and other riders started coming in, but still no Omar. We were really starting to get worried at this point.
When he finally showed up I could tell that something wasn't right. He pulled in next to the truck and told me that he was really feeling bad. He wasn't sure if it was something that he had eaten for breakfast or the stomach virus that his daughter had. Either way, he was having a very hard time with the ride and was trying to figure out a strategy that would allow him to finish. We gave him a Coke to try and settle his stomach, but that just didn't work. He told me to go on without him since he was going to back down to a slower group to improve his chances of completion. With his blessing, I wished him luck and noticed that the group I had ridden in with was now forming back up in the street. I clipped in and joined up with them.
We were only 68 miles into this ride and I had already seen two of my friends have to drop down to slower groups. I was starting to feel all alone, even though I was in a group that fit my riding quite well. We worked our way down the road trading pulls and keeping that average speed well up there. We were hovering around 20.3 mph now which was excellent! As had happened on each previous leg, I was looking for Toni to pass us by, but this time she was later than normal. When I finally saw her, I saw a bike in the bed. It was Omar's Pinarello. I guess it was official, he had abandoned the ride. All of a sudden, the reality of this ride hit me. There was a very real possibility that I would not be able to finish. Omar and I were so closely matched that I was gauging my potential for success on how he was doing. This was a kick in the gut for me, and I felt so sorry for Omar who had come all the way from Kentucky to ride in this event.
Even with Omar out of the ride, I knew that I had to continue on and couldn't get caught up in feeling bad. I had my own ride to deal with, and I would have my own difficulties to deal with as the miles mounted. The next stop was for lunch at 99 miles...essentially a full century. We had a nice big gymnasium reserved for lunch which was a nice touch with the A/C on the inside.
Rest Stop #3 and Lunch
When we arrived, my average was still between 20.3 and 20.4 mph and I was stoked. This was my first century where I've broken the 20 mph mark, and that was a huge deal for me. Even still, I was worried about Omar and found Toni's truck at the far corner of the parking lot with him in the passenger seat. I found out that he had gotten worse at the last rest stop and decided that it was best that he not try to go any further. I know that was a very hard decision to make, and I don't know if I would have been able to make that same decision in his shoes. It was the right one on every level to make, and it prevented many more issues down the line I'm sure.
Even though Toni was tending to Omar, she and Sierra were there for me on this rest stop. Toni went and made me a sub sandwich for lunch while Sierra helped me with my bottles. I also got a banana to eat which made only the third solid thing that I had eaten on the first century. I wasn't hungry at all, and the Perpetuem was working just as I had wanted it to. I was actually feeling very good at this point which was a goal of mine. Now I would be starting the second century of the day.
With one century under my belt, I was still feeling very good. The heat was starting to be noticeable, but was still very manageable. I had opted to avoid going into the gym at lunch to avoid the air conditioning. My thought process was I didn't want to get used to the cool air so that I could continue riding in the heat without noticing the difference. In short, things were going very well for me. I was still able to pull longer than the recommended mile intervals, and actually really enjoyed setting the pace for the group. It gave me a chance to get my hands off of the hoods and drop down on the bars, or place them on the bar tops. I was also able to get a bit of a breeze, and not have to worry about hitting the brakes. For some reason, I really enjoy being on the front of a paceline!
We continued on working nice and steady. Our average speed was starting to drop, but not by much. In fact, we were still over 20 mph well into starting our second century. I had about perfected drinking and riding by this point, having had to get used to it with the tightened head tube. The issues that I was having in training with balance were due to the wobble up front. Now that things were secure, I was able to grab and gulp like I had been able to years ago. Everything was working well, and I was starting to see the end in sight.
We happened through another town and one rider had a mechanical issue and pulled off on the side of the road. He had help with him so we continued our march on. It seemed like we hit every stoplight in that small town and the constant stopping and powering up started to take its toll on the paceline which was getting spread apart. At one particular light I took off and saw that Keith was on my wheel. I just assumed that everyone else was right there too. After we cleared small town, Keith informed me that we had lost everyone else. I was thinking that the next rest stop was in just another mile or two so I said that we would just regroup at the next rest stop. Keith agreed and we continued on. That mile stretched on and on....and on though. Having lost the rest of the group who knows how far back, I was feeling really bad about having that happen while I was in charge of the pace.
Now I felt like I was responsible for Keith as well and didn't want him to have to pull me for my mistake. So for about 4 miles I pulled without a break. I didn't mind, and I set the pace to where we were both comfortable. I regretted what had happened, but stopping at this point would have been more detrimental than continuing. As we approached mile 132 I saw a huge dog over to the left running at us both. I alerted Keith and then started to sprint to match the dog's speed. The funny thing was, I wasn't necessarily trying to outrun this dog, I wanted to keep his attention and tire him out. I knew that I had the legs to do that and sprinted close to 30 mph to pull him away from Keith. The dog eventually abandoned the chase and went back home. Keith was still coming up from the rear and we pulled into the Arrington Mart at mile 133.
Rest Stop #4
This was the fourth rest stop of the ride, 133 miles in, and I was just now starting to feel fatigue setting in. I'm sure that it was partly due to the sprint that I had just done. It went longer than a typical dog sprint and I had tapped into my reserves. I was also still feeling bad about losing the paceline. All of this added to the stress of an ever increasing temperature. I was looking forward to the last 68 miles though because I was getting very close to finishing this epic journey. To help fuel my efforts, I considered adjusting my beverage choices. My stomach was feeling a little full of the Hammer, and the electrolyte water was starting to taste nasty as it got hot (which happened very soon on each leg). I decided to go with a Hammer and a plain water this time.
With the heat starting to become a big issue, Toni started to put wet towels over my shoulders to try and keep my core cool. This really helped me out. She would rotate it to always keep a cold side against my skin. She also gave me a Coke, a bit earlier than I had anticipated, but I was willing to drink it! We stuck around at this rest stop for a while to allow everyone a chance to cool down. We started to hear how the other groups were doing...and by other groups, I mean the "A" group which was the only group ahead of us at this point. It seemed that my thoughts were right on track with what was going to happen to them. We had already picked up at least two of their initial riders, and now I was hearing about another one that could just go no further at that pace. He was waiting for us to absorb him so he could roll along with us. We gladly took him in and when everyone was ready to go, we clipped in and headed East once more. Our next stop would be in only 22 miles, that was nothing!
I didn't lead out with this leg. I was content to stay in the pack and nurse my wounded ego for my earlier mistake. I did find myself behind our new rider for a time. He was in the lead and doing a fine job of it. He went a little longer than most, but I didn't say anything since I was the same way. I just figured he was in the zone and having fun. He pulled off the lead and I took over again. We continued our march to the next rest stop and everything was going relatively well until we turned onto a road that don't recall the name of. This road had these seems in it that jarred the bikes like roots across the roadway. They appeared every 8 feet or so and slammed our bikes with every bump. We were all feeling the effects of this!
With about 145 miles on our bodies by this point, the increasing heat of the day, and now the bumps, our fatigue levels were starting to increase at an exponential rate. It was getting very bad, and my wrists were starting to ache. I even made the joke that the first one to reach the finish with a round wheel wins. Nobody laughed because we all knew that we had already lost based on the beating our bikes and bodies were taking on this road.
Rest Stop #5
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| No longer looking fresh at 155 miles |
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| The road had nearly killed my hands and wrists |
I didn't want to tell Toni, but for the first time on this ride, I was starting to feel a little queasy, and that wasn't normal for me. I decided to just work on cooling myself off and paying attention to my body so I could finish this ride. I watched as my fellow rider was treated for his heat exposure thinking that could be me if I make one wrong step at this point. I knew I was on the edge. I just made sure that I had my cool towels on my shoulders, she was wringing them out over my head, and I was drinking Coke and cold water to try and get my core temperature down. I was feeling much better by the end of this stop and felt like I would be able to make the last 45 miles one way or the other.
I asked how far to the next rest stop, and was told about 23 miles. That was perfect, I could do that without a problem. We all clipped in and started on our way. Early on, I took the lead position and set the pace. We had decided on an 18-19 mph pace to keep anyone else from falling out. After I had lead for a couple of miles, one of the other riders made the joke that he was fine if I just pulled all the way to the finish. You know what, I was feeling energized and was enjoying being up front, so I gave him a thumbs up and kept my speed as we made progress. About 5 miles later on he informed me that he was only joking. I knew that, but I was having fun. I continued on for a few more miles and then decided to move on back so I could conserve some energy. As I moved down the paceline, I was greeted with questions like "you were pulling this whole time?" "Wow, thanks for the pull!" and so on. Not that I was looking for any validation, but it felt like I had made up for dropping the group earlier in the day. I felt like I had righted the wrong by saving several other's energy reserves.
The problem came when I got to the back of the line. Just like a switch had been flipped, I started to feel nauseated again. Maybe it was the lack of a breeze, or the constant surging of speed, but I didn't like it at all. I only had to wait a little while longer before we got to the rest stop. I even called out the miles because I had heard that several Garmins had died as a result of not enough battery power. At the point were I was expecting the rest stop, all I saw was Jeff's Tahoe, but nobody else. He and his wife had been stopping along the way to see if any of us needed any water so I figured that this was just one of those stops and we carried on since nobody was in need of water and the rest stop was just a little ways up the road.
What was strange was Jeff passed us a little bit up the road and told us that the next rest stop was actually 10 miles more down the road. What? TEN more miles? He then passed again, and said only 3 miles. We were getting confused at this point, and on a third pass he pulled over on the side of the road. We pulled in behind him thinking that we had missed a turn or something. He said that there was supposed to be a rest stop a few miles back but that he didn't see it. We were on the right route though, and we determined that the next one was at mile 188, not 178. Well, we were almost there, but since he was there and we were stopped, we took the opportunity to take on fresh water. It was then back on the road. At this point though, I was hurting pretty badly. I had planned this effort to last only until mile 178, and I wasn't sure I could squeeze that extra 10 miles out of my body right now. I had no choice though, so I sucked it up and kept pace with the group.
Rest Stop #6
I thought that 188 miles would never get there. When I pulled into the church, I saw that there was shade near Toni's truck and I headed right for that shade. I was hurting now. Not physically though. My legs were still great and had lots of power in them. My problem was the fact that I was no longer sweating, and my stomach was turned inside out. I didn't have the cold chills, so I took that as a good sign, but I knew that I was ever approaching the danger point for my heat exposure. Even though I was 13 miles from the finish, I was seriously wondering if I would make it at this point. I was not ready to admit defeat though...I was determined to finish this ride, but I would rather not have it kill me.
For the first time in two Double Downs, I actually sat down at a rest stop. I very rarely do this on any ride, and usually opt to stay perched atop my bike. I just had to sit down though to have any chance of recovery before I set off on my last, and shortest leg. I could tell that Toni and Omar were worried about me at this stop. I tried to keep a strong face for them and assure them that I would be fine for the last leg. I had Toni do everything that she could to lower my core temperature. I was getting sopping wet towels on my neck and back, ice in my helmet, and cold water drained through the holes. I was in such bad shape, I actually have no idea where my bike was while I was trying to summon my last remaining bit of energy. I sipped on water, but I could take no more in. I had lost count of the gallons of liquid that I had ingested over the last 12 or so hours, but my belly was starting to reject any more liquid. I don't even think that I filled up both water bottles at this rest stop. I was dizzy, my eye sight was starting to weaken, and my ability to think was impaired enough to recognize.
I just kept saying to myself that the finish was only 13 miles away. That's just half of the distance I travel on my after work rides and recovery rides. It was nothing, and this would have no climbing at all. I was able to make this happen, even if I was no longer thinking right. When Toni said that everyone was starting to get ready to roll, my heart sank. That meant that the time had now passed for psyching myself up for this leg and it was time to actually hop on and get to it. I remember staggering back to my bike and telling somebody to move out of the way so I could swing my leg over the saddle. I didn't know if they were that close, but I felt like they were close enough to possibly kick. I also didn't know who I was looking at, and that scared me. For the first time on any ride, I clipped in with the thought going through my head that I was either about to see the finish line, or I would be waking up in a hospital not knowing what had happened.
I've said it many times before about Double Down. This is my ride of truth. This is the ride where I find out just who I am, not only as a cyclist, but as a person. It is very easy to live day to day saying that you are capable of doing something, or looking at somebody else's accomplishments and minimizing them to make yourself feel better. It's another thing entirely to chase your own goals and dreams when they seem impossible. I had completed Double Down once before in conditions that I thought were pretty hard. Starting a ride like this in the rain was tough, and I remember calling myself a bad ass for riding in those conditions then. I'm here to tell you, that wet weather riding was a snap compared to this heat. I was hearing temperatures of 107 degrees which seemed about right. Add to that the heat radiating off of the tarmac and you easily have 115-120 degrees on the road. There were heat advisories out, and they had been all afternoon. My Garmin recorded a high temperature of 113 degrees at one point on the ride. I was hearing that the number of DNF's was at 17. There were 17 other bad asses that had started this ride and for one reason or another had decided to abandon. I was no better and no worse than any of these other riders. There would be no shame in quitting. 188 miles was more than I had ridden since getting back on the bike just 10 months ago, and I had done it at a speed in the mid 19's. The smart choice would be to quit with my head held high. But, I was in the middle of finding out just what kind of person I was deep down inside.
My right foot was clipped in, I gave Toni a kiss...well, I hope it was Toni, my eyes were not working all that well anymore, and I pushed forward to the road. I was about the fourth cyclist out on the route and I head somebody yell that we needed to stop and wait for a second for somebody to fix a small issue. We pulled over to the side of the road as a few other riders exited the parking lot. So we didn't hold up traffic we pulled over into a small side street and waited. Here we go with the false start when it took all I had to get going in the first place. Was this my clue to turn around and go back. No, I wasn't going to give in, not now. In fact I had found myself in a position to be able to lead out the group after we got underway again. Tough, stupid...you pick.
When we were all ready, the word was given and I pulled out in the lead position. Not only was I riding this last leg, I was pulling again. I didn't know if the other riders were hurting as bad as I was or not, but I did know that I had consistently felt better in the lead and I was hoping that would continue. Surprisingly, it did. I found myself back into a cruising speed of roughly 20 mph again. Like I said, my legs were great, and they were happy to churn the higher speeds, it was mental facilities that were taking the beating at this point. I pulled much longer than the mile or two that had become the norm in this paceline. I don't know how far I pulled, but I'm thinking it was at least 5-6 miles. I felt pretty good up there with the breeze, although I was still not sweating at all. I tried to drink but it was feeling very unpleasant to even try. I made the decision that I would pull the rest of the way if they let me, but that didn't last much longer. We came up to a stop sign and I saw a car off to the left and called for a stop. As the rest of the paceline came up to the intersection they determined that the car was in the opposite lane and did not pose a threat. They opted to continue through the intersection, effectively passing me and putting me in the tail gunner position. There was nothing at all wrong with this, except that I knew I would be getting sick back there.
Within minutes, my nausea had returned and my body started to ache. I was squeezing the brakes and trying to match speed which caused my body to lurch with the subtle changes in pace. I hoped that we would be rotating out leaders so I could get up there again, but that wasn't happening. I was stuck at the back and didn't have enough in me to move myself back up this time.
The miles seemed to click by at a painfully slow pace. Every mile seemed like it took an hour. Every turn that we took seemed to be another road to nowhere. My scenery still wasn't changing...all I could see was the wheel in front of me which I stayed glued to. We did eventually see the welcome to New Bern signs and that meant that our day was about finished. Right as we rounded a corner, one of the lead riders, one of the Carols we had picked up early on after the "A" group had spit them out was riding back the other way. I was confused, but unable to really process what was going on here. I did manage to hear that her friend had dropped a charger and was willing to let it go, but she had wanted to go back and get it. We stopped and waited. When she didn't return, the other Carol went after her to find out what was going on. Then the first Carol returned and we decided to wait for the other Carol. You see, both of them live in New Bern and since they had done a large amount of the work in this group, we thought that it was only fair that they lead us into the park at the finish.
As Carol rounded the turn we clipped back in and started moving forward again. The speed felt like a slow sprint. I was able to hang on, but there was no way for me to jockey my position closer to the front. I was ok with that and we just started to make turns in quick succession which meant that we were almost there. Then the strangest thing happened. A New Bern PD patrol car came past us and hit the emergency lights and sounded the siren at the next intersection. He was holding traffic for us!!! He continued to do this for every intersection leading up to the entrance of the park. I guess sense of brotherhood kicked in here and I got a warm feeling all over from seeing a fellow officer doing something like that.
The Finish
As I rolled into the park and saw my support/cheer leading crew something happened to me that has not happened a single time on a single ride I've ever taken. For the first time, I was getting choked up...I mean lump in the throat, eyes welling up, about to cry choked up. What in the hell man, why was I crying? Was I hurt, no....had I given up, no...why then was I crying? The only thing I could think of was I had actually made it to my breaking point.
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| Mandatory "after" picture |
Conclusion
My one goal for this ride, other than completing it was to average 20+ for the ride. With my overall average of 19.4 mph, I can't say that I met that goal. However, I feel confident that if conditions were a little cooler, I would have had no problems doing that pace. But, based on the extreme temperatures, I'll take that 19.4 average and be extremely proud of it. The ride time was just 10:23 minutes which shaved over an 1:15 off of my time from 2013. The overall time was about the same, but that was due to taking a very long time at the rest stops to combat the heat and check on friends. I improved on my performance from last time in a big way, and I'm considering that as a big time win.
There might be tougher rides out there for me, but this one will always hold a special place in my heart as the ride where I really found out what I was made of.
The Garmin data can be viewed here.
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