After some good stretching and much-needed downtime last Friday night, I was in bed by 10 p.m. to rest up for a 5:00 a.m. wake-up call and carpool with teammate, Nick, to Yountville. 3rd and Final Century Ride: Here I come!
I decided to try a little something new with my breakfast that morning. In addition to my 250-300 calorie breakfast of a whole wheat bagel thin & peanut butter, I added in another 130 calories or so of a Recovery Drink, to pack in more protein and carbs. Also, because it was watered down a bit more, it added to my water intake, totaling about 24 oz. of H2O to start my day fully hydrated.
Nick and I got to Yountville City Park (homesite of our Double Brick in June) fairly early. So I took it upon myself to take a quick 4-5 minute snooze in the car.
To our delight, a handful of our Vineman teammates showed up to cheer us on and volunteer their time and services to our water stops and roving SAG cars! Thank you to Jim, Rocky, Carol, Mary, Kathryn & Tiffany for coming out. Also special thanks to Helen, Coach Simon, Coach Mike & Coach Sedonia for sweeping the course, riding with us, and providing your overall support all day.
It was a much smaller batch of us who were out there to get the deed done: Tony, Nick, Kristie, Phil, Heather, Jane, Jen Jay, Janice, Belinda, Liz and I. A few of our other teammates were either fending off illness or resting from an injury and couldn't be with us.
Captain Les mapped out our course and even rode several miles with the pack. He had sent us the course maps a few days in advance and so we were forewarned there were 2 significant climbs on the course. While I hadn't prepared for them to be easy I felt that with weekly hill climbs up Diablo under my belt over the last... 4 months or so (including our East Bay Century which was mountain after mountain), I felt ready to take on the challenge. Of course, I had this mindset without regard to the fact that I had near worn out my legs from a week's worth of high intensity training!
My overall goal and objective for this ride consisted of two things: 1- To break up the ride into 3-4 segments. For instance, I wanted to be at Mile 30 in about 2 hours and 5 minutes. And then at Mile 60 another 2 hours and 10 minutes later, and so on. This is going to be my bike strategy for Race Day, and I wanted to get comfortable creating small[er] goals within the 100-mile ride and aim to be at a certain spot by roughly a certain time. And 2- To finish 100 miles (or more accurately, 96 miles [as the course was marked]) within 8 hours and 30 minutes. 8 hours flat would be wishful thinking, and a best case scenario. This 8 hours and 30 minutes goal would be about an HOUR'S difference from my last 2 100-mile rides in Clearlake in June; and the East Bay Century just four weeks ago. So I knew this was an ambitious goal. But I kept it to myself and just planned to ride like hell with as few stops as possible. No dilly-dallying, no stopping to chat. Just straight focus -- with occasional moments to look up and admire the view of the Napa Wine Country vineyards, and smile and be grateful for the day and challenge ahead of me :)
I started off in a pack with everyone -- which was fantastic. So rare is the moment that I actually get to keep up with the likes of Kristie, Phil, Belinda & Liz. Janice also kept up behind me and we had a nice paceline for the first 5 miles of the 40-mile loop. The morning was chilly, with a fog bank surrounding the nearby mountains. It was the first time all summer I had ridden with my windbreaker on and arm warmers underneath. Coaches Simon, Sedonia and Mike leapfrogged among us to make sure we stayed on course and took turns where appropriate.
Eventually, it was Liz and I who dropped off from the pack and actually rode a few miles with Simon. A gradual ascent kept our heart rates up. Carol in her Lexus SUV and Jim in his Jeep would occasionally roll by, with smiles on their faces and graciously asking us if we needed anything at all. I was touched by their generosity and was humbled by their kindness. After all, it wasn't that long ago that they were in OUR [cycling] shoes, climbing up hills and hoping to see that same smiling face from a teammate or volunteer.
From about miles 14-18, my legs started to cramp up. I could feel both my hamstrings and calves tighten up and taunt me for having put them through all that work during the weekdays. I could see Liz and Simon speeding up in the distance as they climbed. Trust your legs! I said to myself. They have what it takes to keep going, Maria! When I found a moment, I popped open my makeshift salt tablet "dispenser" from my back jersey pocket and took a Thermolyte. Though I wasn't sweating a whole bunch yet (and also considering the brisk weather), I had hoped the salt might help relieve the cramping. After some time, it subsided and it was almost as if I had forgotten the cramps had even affected me.
Simon moved on, and then up came Sedonia. Small chats here and there, but we all kept working up these hills and maintained focus. I lost her on a steep pitch and she powered on through. Now Liz was behind me. For another 5 miles or so, Liz and I leapfrogged between each other down descends and up more rollers. Janice was also trailing nearby with Mike sweeping the course.
Soon after, we hit Mount Veeder.
It was pretty brutal. I won't lie :) Probably a combination of my tired legs, and overheating from the arm warmer/windbreaker combo -- but my mind went to the dark place. Almost to the point of no return. I just didn't let it go there. There were segments of the climb that were undoubtedly steeper than Mount Diablo. So I was definitely out of my comfort zone in certain places. I knew Liz was behind me, so it helped to know I wasn't alone. I pushed and pushed with sweat dripping down my face. My heart rate well exceeded threshold, but I finally reached a clearing and leveling out of the road. I knew it was my moment to take a breather and find my bearings. Jim was at the top of the hill, smiles 'n all. I was really relieved to see him. He took my windbreaker from me so I could cool down and asked me if I needed anything else. After taking a quick look at the map and seeing Liz and Janice pass on through down the hill, I was off again.
Collllddd descent down the mountain! I had immediately started to question whether I should have de-layered where I did! But I was boiling by that point! Suppose it was the lesser of two evils. Especially because I didn't know whether we were in for some more climbing just a few minutes later.
Eventually, we made it to the other side of the mountain and I found myself in very familiar territory. We had come down the backside of where we did our double-brick rides. Somewhere along the way, my pedals locked. I couldn't pedal forward and I was stuck! But with some quick thinking and reaction time, I shifted my way out of the rut and fixed it on my own! A little excitement to keep me on my toes... literally.
Sedonia, Liz, Janice and I all headed back along Highway 29 in St. Helena and returned to the park for bottle refills and bathrooms. A quick pitstop to use the restroom and stretch out my legs, a topping-off of my aero bottle and I was on the road again. A different route and different loop. This would be the longer of the two that passes by Lake Hennessy -- gorgeous! And a series of picturesque vineyards and wineries.
Our roving SAG vehicles really were the best. They carried more water, treats and good cheer than anyone could have asked for. And despite the fact that I actually didn't stop at any of the waterstops (!!) I was so grateful to have the course support out there. I stopped by the roadside 2 or 3 times to refill my aero bottle with water, mix up another 2-hour bottle of Carbo-Pro/Gatorade (with ICE!) and pop a Tum tablet and ibuprofen at Mile 55.
Right around the "50-somethings" I started to get discouraged. I was out on my own by that point and saw both Jim and Coach Mike at a clearing in the road. I told them I was feeling disheartened about my time. The fact that I was "running late" in getting to my next checkpoint (or 1/4 of my bike segment) and my speed didn't appear to be taking me to where I planned to be. They reassured me that comparing my speed up the Mt. Veeder climb with what my speed in Louisville would be like -- was a pure apples-to-oranges comparison. My mood or momentum shouldn't have been dragged down by that. After all, I had breezed by one of the stops just moments ago and wasn't far off from Kristie, Phil and Les. I continued on and stayed strong. Jen Jay, Liz and Janice were behind me but not far off.
By about Mile 67, I got to Ink Grade.
Now my history with this hill is that the last and only time I rode up it, I was in pure gastroinstestinal distress! Major nausea, fighting back the urge to get sick from chugging too many liquid calories too fast -- back in the early cycling days of yours truly. It was March, I believe. And I thankfully had Coach Sedonia to help me keep my wits about me, and she convinced me to finish that climb if it was the last thing I had done. This will be MUCH easier than that ride. I was convinced.
OH boy was I wrong!! Haha... another brutal climb. And we were told this one wouldn't be nearly as bad as Mt. Veeder. The sun was in full shine by this time of the day and the ice I had just picked up from Jim was now melted in my bottle. I trudged along up the hill but decided to take my time. No rushing, just climbing. Not stopping for anything and going as long as I could.
No one was in sight. There were a few pockets of shade but nothing lasting enough to keep me cool. The silence was maddening and I was going stir-crazy just hearing my own breath and the creaking of my bike up the hill. Was I short on nutrition? Jim's car with Belinda and Coach Mike rolled by. They asked how I was doing. I couldn't even speak I was concentrating so hard not to stop pedaling. I made some kind of gesture that I was ok but not happy, and I knew Belinda understood.
Minutes later, I saw a patch in the road that leveled out. I pulled over to find my bearings. I wanted to cry but fought back the tears as they started to blend with the sweat building up under my helmet and in between my sunglasses and cheeks. Just then, Coach Simon pulled over with more water. He filled up my aero bottle and told me how close I was to the top. "I keep thinking I'm about to reach the top and it keeps going," I said. He gave me perspective and said this was the last climb I had to think about. The LAST climb of the season, and after that, it's all downhill and taper time would be within view. I voiced to him my concerns back from mile 50-something about my speed and time. But before I could even get more choked up about it, I shot my 2x caffeine Gu (when I do this, I mean business!), sipped some more water, and said my goodbye to Simon. GIMME THAT HILL! I said to myself.
Although the top of the hill wasn't quite as nearby as I had hoped it would be, another insight had come to me as I trudged along. I thought to myself that during those times you get thrown off (mentally or physically), thwarted or discouraged -- for every time you get back on and keep going, you become a little tougher. A little more iron.
And that's what kept me going. I thought of my Honorees who must grapple with that notion all the time. It was an emotional 'climb' for me in more ways than one, so getting to the top made the experience that much sweeter. Also, knowing none of my teammates gave up either gave me inspiration to pedal through anything.
Quick hellos and thanks at the top of the hill to Belinda, Jim, Simon and Mike, who cheered as I rolled by. They gave me a quick set of directions for the next couple turns and I was on my way.
Unfortunately had to miss out on Rocky's water stop extravaganza, complete with cold towels, baked goods and what I could only imagine was a party on the side of the road. "Don't be offended, Rocky! But I just gotta keep going!" I yelled. He understood and smiled from ear to ear, waving as I rolled through.
On the flats, I pushed; on the descents, I charged. And wherever I could, I tried to pick up whatever speed as possible while keeping a quick cadence, full pedal stroke (emphasis on the pull-up with my hamstrings) -- all while keeping watch of my heart rate (Zone 3: 155-157 bpm) and looking up to see the surrounding view of Napa Valley.
I saw Jen Jay, who looked worried that she had taken a wrong turn. "Right on Bale!" I yelled to her as I smiled and breezed through. I had momentum and I let it take me where it wanted to.
One more stretch along the Silverado Trail and I was near-home free. Jim and Belinda passed by me in the Jeep once more and Rocky came through to snap one last photo of me, aero :)
I knew I only had a few turns left as I was coming up on Mile 90. I looked at my Garmin and elapsed time and grinned so big.
I turned at what I thought was "Yountville Cross Road" and looked for the final 2 turns at Yount Ave and Lincoln Ave, which would put me at the park at Mile 96 in just 5-7 minutes. Here I come!! I was so excited.
I smiled and anticipated the turn that would never come! Soon, I exceeded Mile 96, with no Lincoln Ave in sight. Then, Mile 98.
The good news was that I was going to complete a full 100-mi Century. The bad news was that I didn't know where the hell I was!
"Town of St. Helena" a sign read. Ok, I know St. Helena and Yountville are right next to each other. But where had I missed a turn? It wasn't as simple as backtracking, because I could have sworn I took the proper turn where I needed to. Highway 29 then turned into Main Street and I was rolling through some bumpy and rickety streets in an unfamiliar place. Cars zoomed past and there were a few close calls with cars backing out and sticking out of driveways as I tried to squeeze through in the bike lane, fully clipped in.
Mile 99 -- I decided to make a quick right turn and stop. Walked my bike through a cross-walk (since there were no left-hand turns or U-turn opportunities in sight). Got my bearings and still made sure to take in fuel since I was still exerting energy. I hopped back on and headed back from whence I came, hoping I'd gain some more insight into where I was. My fear was that with all the roving vehicles we had on the course, no one would think to look for me where I was.
15 mph. I was riding at a 15 mph speed (which I had also thought for the longest time was terribly uncharacteristic of me) and had completed 100 miles. Despite being lost and a little confused... I clocked in at 100 miles in 7 hours and 35 minutes. Almost a complete hour faster from my estimated goal time for the ride, and almost 2 hours' difference from my East Bay Century total moving time. I was FLOORED! And so incredibly proud of myself.
I took a moment to soak it in and smile. And now it was just a matter of finding any sign of the proper direction to find the park, as my teammates were probably worried by now that I hadn't been back.
Just as I started to get comfortable on the route back to that "Yountville Cross Rd", I saw railroad tracks. BAD NEWS. Railroad tracks that not only were unavoidable, but tracks that went almost parallel to the street, rather than perpendicular. So when I rolled right through them at the speed I was going -- my wheels skidded right underneath me and threw me to the pavement. I fell, with my bike in between me, still clipped in, into the main road. "Sh*t, sh*t, sh*t!" I yelled. I scurried as fast as I could to unclip myself from the pedals, get up, and get myself out of the street. My bottle had flown out of the cage and into the road as well. I could feel the sting of road rash on the same leg I scraped up back in February. SO stupid, I thought to myself.
Thankfully (and I do thank my lucky stars), the car that had been behind/beside me, slowed down instantly and driving it was another cyclist. He immediately asked if I was ok, pulled over, and went over to pick my bottle up from the street. I thought I was a gone-r. But instead, he was a good, good Samaritan who was quick to talk to me, and calm me down. He said he completely understood and was glad I was ok. A few other cars that slowed down also gestured and asked if I was alright. Thank God, I thought. The next few thoughts consisted of a pit in my stomach wondering if I had damaged my bike 3 weeks before the race. I was standing upright, so I didn't break any bones. I wasn't as terribly scraped up or cut deep as my last big fall, and I didn't hit my head. Everything seemed to check out.
And then, a 2nd good Samaritan rolled right along. She was a leisurely cyclist who was walking along with her bike and offered her cell phone if I needed to use it. At first, I was panicked because I didn't have my own phone (or the memory of any phone numbers) on me. I waved goodbye to the first gentleman, and profusely thanked him for his kindness. And "Jenna" told me she had internet access which could sign me into my email account. I had recalled that Tony often puts his phone number in his emails to the team. Now, it was just a matter of doing a Gmail search to find that one message with the digits. I felt like a sleuth trying to track down all this information based on what little resources I had. But guess what? It worked.
Tony answered his phone and said he was on his way to come get me. I said my goodbyes and huge thanks to Jenna, sending off good bike karma to her -- and waited to be picked up from the now-infamous Main Street of St. Helena, outside the Whitehall Lane Winery at Zinfandel Lane. Oy.
Tony picked me up, racked my bike on the roof of his 4-Runner and I regaled him with the events of my best, fastest-timed 100 mile bike ride. With a grande finale of a fall immediately after. Honestly, what Iron Season would be complete without the book-end of one more fall?
It was another humbling moment for me -- to remind me that anything can happen. Anytime. To anyone. But I was too elated by my successes to let the fall outshine my day.
I got back to the park and everyone looked relieved to see me; and dumbfounded that I crashed. Liz immediately got me a bag of ice for my then-swollen right knee. I later found black and blue marks on both my inner thighs (since I fell with the bike in between me); one notable black bruise on my right glute/hip; and some superficial road rash along my right shin (no less painful though!). The bike is also ok. Thankfully, no cracks in the frame and everything was ok. The bike is also in the shop this week for the final tune-up before heading out to Louisville. I plan to take it for a few test rides as well before then.
I was LUCKY to have only walked away with all that, and have since been icing and resting my legs and body from everything I've put it through -- good, bad and ugly!
I even mustered up the energy on Sunday morning to go out to the lake for a refreshing recovery swim with Nick, Phil and Jen Jay. About a mile and a half in an hour, without a wetsuit.
So all in all, a huge success for my teammates and I, bound for Penticton, B.C. & Louisville, KY. The magic "T" word is around the corner and soon we'll be letting up on some of the total workout time during our training days but keeping the intensity at full capacity.
I can honestly say that my performance on Saturday's Century Ride surprised and impressed me. It made me really confident in my abilities and excited for Race Day in 3 weeks. While no one can ever predict times, performance, weather conditions or what even the slightest uncertainties or unexpected moments can bring, I can still hold onto the memories and experiences of this season under my belt and without question be proud of myself for them. [Bike Stats]
***
Week #39 Workout Summary:
Swim: 3 hours and 30 minutes
Bike: 9 hours and 0 minutes
Run: 1 hour and 0 minutes
Core/Strength: 0 hours and 15 minutes
Total Workout: 13 hours and 45 minutes
Wow 7:35 century! Look at you go! Sorry to hear about your crash, but it seems you recovered well. You are pretty tough, kid! Iron, I would even say. Enjoy the taper. You earned it!
ReplyDeleteMaria, I'm so proud of you! You are one tough chick! I'm excited that race day is only 3 weeks away. You are going to do so awesome! Can't wait to hear all about it! Congrats on all your accomplishments, IronMaria! Love ya babe! ~Leanne
ReplyDelete