The last ride of any consequence I attempted was last summer—the Englewood 600K. At the 100-mile mark I was fading fast in the heat, my stomach in need of a plumber. I bailed. And satisfied myself until the snow came with short rides around town—jaunts that continued after the snow melted, months and months and months later. So last Sunday, standing in front of Knapps Cyclery waiting for the starting toot at 7 am, I had yet to put more than 20 miles on my odometer at one time in what seemed like years.
This is all said, not to set up a defense of my 11-hour-26-minute time, but to help explain why I'm so impressed with myself for finishing at all.
I won't give details of the ride, since there were no memorable climbs or descents, mishaps or misadventures. I didn't spend more than ten minutes riding with company. Ten minutes in total. It was, for the most part, just me and the wind (and the pollen that floated on it).
So what did I learn in my solitude? I came to realize a number of things:
--If I had any regrets over not trying PBP in 2011 after bailing 1/3 the way through 2007, I finally let them go: I realized that I couldn't have gone anyway, having broken my neck the month before. This had never occurred to me before, in the two-and-a-half years I've spent regretting not going back.
--I realized that I have never DNF'ed due to missing the close of a controle or finishing past the final cut-off. Since starting riding brevets in 2005, I have never DNF'ed for anything other than quitting. Wow. That's a take-away thought.
--I came to appreciate that momentum-loss (wind) is worse than elevation-gain (hills). [see my next post]
--There was a lot of flat-fixing going on, it seemed. I'd like to see some data on this, especially how the flats correlated to tire size. As I passed stopped riders wrestling with tubes of black vermicelli, I realized I'm happier rolling on wide, heavy tires than running the extra risk of a puncture. Fat beats flat to the unhandy.
--I learned that lack of preparation may not be a deal-breaker, but it sure don't help.
This is all said, not to set up a defense of my 11-hour-26-minute time, but to help explain why I'm so impressed with myself for finishing at all.
I won't give details of the ride, since there were no memorable climbs or descents, mishaps or misadventures. I didn't spend more than ten minutes riding with company. Ten minutes in total. It was, for the most part, just me and the wind (and the pollen that floated on it).
So what did I learn in my solitude? I came to realize a number of things:
--If I had any regrets over not trying PBP in 2011 after bailing 1/3 the way through 2007, I finally let them go: I realized that I couldn't have gone anyway, having broken my neck the month before. This had never occurred to me before, in the two-and-a-half years I've spent regretting not going back.
--I realized that I have never DNF'ed due to missing the close of a controle or finishing past the final cut-off. Since starting riding brevets in 2005, I have never DNF'ed for anything other than quitting. Wow. That's a take-away thought.
--I came to appreciate that momentum-loss (wind) is worse than elevation-gain (hills). [see my next post]
--There was a lot of flat-fixing going on, it seemed. I'd like to see some data on this, especially how the flats correlated to tire size. As I passed stopped riders wrestling with tubes of black vermicelli, I realized I'm happier rolling on wide, heavy tires than running the extra risk of a puncture. Fat beats flat to the unhandy.
--I learned that lack of preparation may not be a deal-breaker, but it sure don't help.
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