Showing posts with label TMD. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TMD. Show all posts
Sunday, September 4, 2011
TMD Uphill TT
Tommorrow is the third time I will attempt the Moser Knob Uphill Time Trial. The first time I attempted it I was fairly new to the LBC, and I went up it fully loaded on my Jamis Coda hybrid. It weighed something like 40lbs. I took 12:26, only one person was slower. Last year I attacked it on my Motobecane, stripped of luggage, bottles and fenders. I took 13:23. I was the slowest person up the hill, even beaten by someone with a broken wrist riding a mountain bike on flat pedals! I was having allergy problems and had to stop half way up to catch my breath. I have no idea how I'll do this year, better would be nice, but a three-peat as the slowest male would be interesting as well...
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Beastly Mileage
Today I rode Beast 100 miles (okay 95 point something to be technical) for the first time. Beast was, as I tend to ride it these days, fully loaded. I averaged 15.7 mph...for the first half, after that I slowed considerably. Final average moving speed was 14.6ish. Add in stops and it took me 8.5 hours to go the distance.
How much of that slowness was the weight of the bike, and how much was me not being ready for that distance on that bike, how much was the heat (it hit 95F) and how much was just stupidity (like not riding enough during the week, poor nutrition preride, poor feeding strategy during the ride.) I'm sure i will never know.
There were sections of flat road where I was only moving 8-9mph. I felt horrible, mostly about keeping the RC out that long. I had thoughts of throwing in the towel and calling for a ride, but didn't actually want to give up, just didn't want anyone else watching me being so out of sorts. I was actually quite cheerful and my attitude stayed positive throughout, the there is that. I knew I could make the distance, just had no idea how long it might take me. I had hoped for a sub 8 hour century and will have to keep working to make that goal, as I hope that a sub 8 hour road century will translate to a sub-10 hour gravel century.
How much of that slowness was the weight of the bike, and how much was me not being ready for that distance on that bike, how much was the heat (it hit 95F) and how much was just stupidity (like not riding enough during the week, poor nutrition preride, poor feeding strategy during the ride.) I'm sure i will never know.
There were sections of flat road where I was only moving 8-9mph. I felt horrible, mostly about keeping the RC out that long. I had thoughts of throwing in the towel and calling for a ride, but didn't actually want to give up, just didn't want anyone else watching me being so out of sorts. I was actually quite cheerful and my attitude stayed positive throughout, the there is that. I knew I could make the distance, just had no idea how long it might take me. I had hoped for a sub 8 hour century and will have to keep working to make that goal, as I hope that a sub 8 hour road century will translate to a sub-10 hour gravel century.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Pain, Pottershop. Pottershop, Pain.
Pottershop. A nasty section of road leading into Bardstown, KY. 3 major climbs and two bonuses, peaking at 24%. I've failed to successfully climb this road twice. I would not fail a third time. From a stop sign the road goes about 50 feet and then become a wall.
Yesterday was the clubride version of Pottershop. Unlike the Old Kentucky Home Tour version, where Pottershop is placed at mile 96, on the clubride version it comes before lunch at mile 46.
For the first leg, I took it easy, falling in with the second pack of riders and enjoying some light conversation, talking up some of the upcoming roads with people who didn't know the area "No, we haven't actually been on any hills yet" "You, sir, have been misinformed"
After the first store stop, as we roll out I take a position in the front of the pack and start getting the legs warmed. I want them to be used to putting out some extended effort. Myself, another solo and a tandem start creeping away from the pack and then separating from each other. The other solo glides off the front and, despite our yelling, misses a turn, leaving the tandem and myself as the front two bikes. A series of rollers has the tandem slip out of sight, and checks in my mirror show no signs of the pack behind me.
I spend about ten miles traveling alone on my way to meet my foe. Steady effort keeping the legs working, a few out of the saddle efforts on climbs. I stop for a minute to flip and refold my cue sheet. Three more miles. A sudden realization that I'm actually coming to the road from the opposite direction than I had expected. Cool.
Quarter mile. Downshift and glide in. Right turn. HILL! Ease into it. Don't attack. Keep the cranks turning over. Half way up the first hill, false flat (it's still actually 8%), pick up a mph or two, keep the power steady. Top of the first climb. That's the second hardest one. Pick up speed to help carry you over the first bonus. Downhill. Work the legs a bit to loosen them. Second climb. keep it steady, don't work it too much. That's the easy one, it only peaks at 18%. Long downhill. Don't bother bombing it. Stretch the back and shoulders. Climb three. It only peaks at 22%, but is the longest, with a half mile 3% false flat splitting the two steeper sections, curving around hiding what's coming next. My legs are tired, my back is aching, I'm climbing this hill, dammit! I get passed right before the final crest. I tell him I was beginning to hope that I would be the first solo bike to make the end of the road, and then call him a skinny bastard. The final bonus is nothing at this point, just a 5% grade to get up to the main road.
Heavy traffic on this road. small climb. then bomb down hill...what is that? what is that! The road ahead looks weird. It's been torn up to repave! traffic behind me, can't slow down. this is gonna hurt....Blllahluhluhluhluh! It's only a quarter mile section. Catch the tandem ahead. and go to lunch. Other riders pull in right behind us so we have a good size lunch group.
As we roll out from a decent paceline works into a headwind to get out of town. a series of stiff rollers splits the group again. I join in chatting with another rider for a few miles and then get joined by a couple more, including the guy who passed me back on Pottershop. We're rolling on having a nice conversation and beginning to look forward to the final stop and begin talking of ice cream and hopes that there will be some to be had. I quip that there won't be any to be had if I get there first, which get slammed with a reminder of there being another hill between us and the store. Challenge accepted! A quick dash in a futile attempt to catch a green sign gets a good head of steam going to the hill. The one rider outpaces me, but mirror checks confirm that I'm keeping the other two at bay. At the top, a long flat is laid ahead with the other rider about a quarter mile up. spin, spin, spin. 23, 24. I think I'm gaining. 25, 26. He's within reach. We scream into the parking lot at 27 mph. I'm up maybe half a wheel length. We all eat some ice cream. Other riders join us at the store and we all gather up and ride the last 12 miles as a group.
Yesterday was the clubride version of Pottershop. Unlike the Old Kentucky Home Tour version, where Pottershop is placed at mile 96, on the clubride version it comes before lunch at mile 46.
For the first leg, I took it easy, falling in with the second pack of riders and enjoying some light conversation, talking up some of the upcoming roads with people who didn't know the area "No, we haven't actually been on any hills yet" "You, sir, have been misinformed"
After the first store stop, as we roll out I take a position in the front of the pack and start getting the legs warmed. I want them to be used to putting out some extended effort. Myself, another solo and a tandem start creeping away from the pack and then separating from each other. The other solo glides off the front and, despite our yelling, misses a turn, leaving the tandem and myself as the front two bikes. A series of rollers has the tandem slip out of sight, and checks in my mirror show no signs of the pack behind me.
I spend about ten miles traveling alone on my way to meet my foe. Steady effort keeping the legs working, a few out of the saddle efforts on climbs. I stop for a minute to flip and refold my cue sheet. Three more miles. A sudden realization that I'm actually coming to the road from the opposite direction than I had expected. Cool.
Quarter mile. Downshift and glide in. Right turn. HILL! Ease into it. Don't attack. Keep the cranks turning over. Half way up the first hill, false flat (it's still actually 8%), pick up a mph or two, keep the power steady. Top of the first climb. That's the second hardest one. Pick up speed to help carry you over the first bonus. Downhill. Work the legs a bit to loosen them. Second climb. keep it steady, don't work it too much. That's the easy one, it only peaks at 18%. Long downhill. Don't bother bombing it. Stretch the back and shoulders. Climb three. It only peaks at 22%, but is the longest, with a half mile 3% false flat splitting the two steeper sections, curving around hiding what's coming next. My legs are tired, my back is aching, I'm climbing this hill, dammit! I get passed right before the final crest. I tell him I was beginning to hope that I would be the first solo bike to make the end of the road, and then call him a skinny bastard. The final bonus is nothing at this point, just a 5% grade to get up to the main road.
Heavy traffic on this road. small climb. then bomb down hill...what is that? what is that! The road ahead looks weird. It's been torn up to repave! traffic behind me, can't slow down. this is gonna hurt....Blllahluhluhluhluh! It's only a quarter mile section. Catch the tandem ahead. and go to lunch. Other riders pull in right behind us so we have a good size lunch group.
As we roll out from a decent paceline works into a headwind to get out of town. a series of stiff rollers splits the group again. I join in chatting with another rider for a few miles and then get joined by a couple more, including the guy who passed me back on Pottershop. We're rolling on having a nice conversation and beginning to look forward to the final stop and begin talking of ice cream and hopes that there will be some to be had. I quip that there won't be any to be had if I get there first, which get slammed with a reminder of there being another hill between us and the store. Challenge accepted! A quick dash in a futile attempt to catch a green sign gets a good head of steam going to the hill. The one rider outpaces me, but mirror checks confirm that I'm keeping the other two at bay. At the top, a long flat is laid ahead with the other rider about a quarter mile up. spin, spin, spin. 23, 24. I think I'm gaining. 25, 26. He's within reach. We scream into the parking lot at 27 mph. I'm up maybe half a wheel length. We all eat some ice cream. Other riders join us at the store and we all gather up and ride the last 12 miles as a group.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
I'm just not that mad!
My bicycle club, the Louisville Bicycle Club, puts on a challenging series of centuries every year called the Tour de Mad Dog (TMD), it's 21 stages, two of which are shorter Time Trials, one flat and one uphill. Other than the TTs, all times are fictitious. As a way to encourage people being social, times are based upon the size of group you finish with, you need six in your finishing group to not incur a penalty, with the winner pulled randomly from all who finished the stage. There are also difficulty bonuses (for longer or harder routes) and bonuses for having crap attached to your bike (or carried on your back) that are also drawn randomly. All these "times" are added up and at the end of the event used to award the yellow jersey winner and the white jersey for best young (under 24) or new (never completed the TMD) rider. I really want the white jersey. I've stated it as my goal since before this tour started.
Up until today I was running second for the white jersey and I knew the white jersey leader wasn't going to make this stage. I didn't ride. I really wanted to. This stage would have been my longest bike ride ever: 140 miles. It would have been my most climbing in a ride ever as well: listed at 11,000+ft (though gps tracks tend to place it a bit lower than that). Completing this ride would have given me good insight into how well my training is going for the gravel event I have in October.
About 14 riders showed up at the 6am start, but only 10 rolled out of the parking lot. A line of strong thunderstorms was putting on a pretty serious light show and headed to intercept. The 4 of us watched them roll out and hung around in the lot for about 20 minutes, watching the radar and waiting to see how bad it was going to get. By the time we felt the first drops, the flashes had already started surrounding us. It was going to be a rough day. The rain was heavy. I've ridden in worse. The lightning, though, I've not pedaled through a storm that electrifying. I don't want to.
Have I lost out in my quest for the white jersey? Maybe, three of the people chasing me did ride. Two of them will pass me today, assuming they don't have something preventing them from finishing the ride, one of those had stated that they will have to miss later rides, so who knows. I may still have shot at white.
I had earlier in the season considered abandoning if I wasn't in a position to take home white. Abandoning requires missing more than four stages in a row, or failing to complete back to back stages. I've abandoned that idea. I've decided this will probably be the only year I try to complete the TMD. Not that I won't continue to ride the rides, but that if I miss some I won't worry about it next year. I'll take home a finishers jersey, white or not, and be proud of the accomplishment. Chasing White or Yellow requires both luck and a level of madness that I just can't compete with.
Up until today I was running second for the white jersey and I knew the white jersey leader wasn't going to make this stage. I didn't ride. I really wanted to. This stage would have been my longest bike ride ever: 140 miles. It would have been my most climbing in a ride ever as well: listed at 11,000+ft (though gps tracks tend to place it a bit lower than that). Completing this ride would have given me good insight into how well my training is going for the gravel event I have in October.
About 14 riders showed up at the 6am start, but only 10 rolled out of the parking lot. A line of strong thunderstorms was putting on a pretty serious light show and headed to intercept. The 4 of us watched them roll out and hung around in the lot for about 20 minutes, watching the radar and waiting to see how bad it was going to get. By the time we felt the first drops, the flashes had already started surrounding us. It was going to be a rough day. The rain was heavy. I've ridden in worse. The lightning, though, I've not pedaled through a storm that electrifying. I don't want to.
Have I lost out in my quest for the white jersey? Maybe, three of the people chasing me did ride. Two of them will pass me today, assuming they don't have something preventing them from finishing the ride, one of those had stated that they will have to miss later rides, so who knows. I may still have shot at white.
I had earlier in the season considered abandoning if I wasn't in a position to take home white. Abandoning requires missing more than four stages in a row, or failing to complete back to back stages. I've abandoned that idea. I've decided this will probably be the only year I try to complete the TMD. Not that I won't continue to ride the rides, but that if I miss some I won't worry about it next year. I'll take home a finishers jersey, white or not, and be proud of the accomplishment. Chasing White or Yellow requires both luck and a level of madness that I just can't compete with.
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