July 1st 200k "Unto These Hills"
My 200k brevet on July was the hardest ride I have ever done. We started from Clermont, Florida at 7AM with a temp of 80F and humidity of 98%. The entire pack of 20-some riders made a wrong
turn immediately, and we got six miles off course before returning to the starting point to begin again. (If you leave the course, you must return to the exact point you left the course in order for
it to be a legal ride). Yay, the 200k, which was actually planned for 133 miles, not 124, now had six bonus miles.
At the first hill, short and steep, at 2 miles, last as usual, I was having some difficulty breathing because of the high humidity. I actually thought how nice it would be to just quit and ride back
to the hotel- but I didn't. This ride is critical to my R-12 Award from Randonneurs USA which I will earn by riding brevets or permanents (certified rides) of 200k or longer 12 months in a row, with no makeups allowed. The RBA- Regional Brevet Administrator- planned this route to take full advantage ot the hills of Clermont and Tavarres, going over many of the central Florida "mountains"
two and even three times. I am not good at climbing, and was only doing this ride because it was the only organized ride in Florida in July. So- not looking forward to it, but knowing I _had to_ do
it. At least the weather forecast was 10 degrees F cooler than the June 200k with an expected high of "only" 94F!
After a while, I came upon a rider on the left side of the road, with a flat, and a little further, two riders on the right, with a flat. (Both of these two dropped later). I asked the left rider, Greg, if he had everything he needed. He did not have a pump, only CO2! I got out the trusty Topeak Road Morph, and Greg was very impressed by how easy it pumped up his tire! Although I enjoyed my little break, I didn't stay to see him mount the wheel back on, as I was worried about the time cutoff for the first Control, mile 25.5, which was 9:44 AM. There were lots more hills, and now I was trying to ride as fast as I thought was reasonable, still leaving hill-climbing energy. (The other two riders did not need anything from me, so I kept going after asking). More hills, the three
riders soon pass me up. Imagine my surprise when, about five miles before Control 1, I see Greg on the side of the road again, with another flat! I stop, saying "I bet you'd like my pump!" He can't
find a leak in the newly-removed tube, and almost puts it back in, but then puts in his last new tube instead. As soon as he's done pumping, I take off, now really worried about the cutoff.
I miss a turn, but have an inkling that I'd done so almost immediately, but stupidly keep riding about a mile before turning back, just in case. When I am sure I was wrong, I retrace my path,
now sure I am not going to make the last mile in time. I ride as hard and as fast as I can. I fly into the convenience store, telling the clerk "Please let it be 9:44, or I am disqualified! I had to stop to help a guy, twice!!" and fortunately, I have made it just in time. As I am leaving the store, I am surprised to see Greg pulling in- (I thought he passed me while I was lost)- he apparently made a wrong turn also. I don't know if he is going to drop, having not made the cutoff, or continue riding anyway. I hurry off, trying to make up time.
I arrive at the next Control (mile 44.6) with about 25 minutes to spare. It was difficult to find- marked as a Kangaroo, but with a huge Citgo sign, so I pass it by (everyone did) and only turn back after about a half mile to go re-check and look for a Kangaroo sign again. Others rode much further before deciding they had missed it. The girl who rode down with me, Barb, is waiting there. The main pack has just left. I am surprised to see her- she's faster than me, and though she claimed she would be handicapped by her double, that has not been the case! I think she just wants to ride more slowly, with company. I know the feeling. As we are leaving, we see Greg pull in.
The hills are finally over for a while, and Barb and I travel through some very pretty country around Mount Dora, which has its own cycling festival that I have never been to, but am now interested in. Reaching the third Control (mile 70.7) with plenty of time, we catch up with many of the other riders, most of whom are leaving. We eat a sit-down lunch and meet Jimmy and Tommy who are riding together. They take off ahead of us, and Greg arrives. We stay together after leaving the Control, and head to the Orange Blossom Trail (mile71.2).
It is a relief to be out of traffic, and a shower cools us off. After a brief clearing, we get a little heavier rain, with lightning off in the distance. We find Tommy and Jimmy at a shelter near the end of the trail, pass them by, but then decide to go back and check to make sure they are ok. Yes they are, but immediately everyone's cell phones begin to ring. It is RBA Michael, informing us that there is a road closure due to a gas leak, and arranging to meet us at the end of the trail for
rerouting. We leave the trail at mile 88.8 and re-ride a portion of the morning route, adding on
some extra miles. I never got an accurate total mileage, having reset my computer at the very beginning when we returned to the hotel after the bad start, (since accurate mileage is critical to
navigation) and again after we rejoined our route after the detour, but figure the total distance to be about 140 miles.
And the hills begin again at 90 miles. Up the back side of Sugarloaf Mountain, which is longer but more gradual. I am last of our group of five; the others are all stopped at a house which always has a cooler out, year-round, for cyclists, at the top of the hill. I don't stop, just continue down the descent, where I reach my max speed ever! 49.1 mph. (Tommy reaches 51 mph!- I rode the brakes).
Hills, hills, more hills, a Control at mile 109, then back over the same hills AGAIN backwards. Or actually, frontwards for the second time. Barb and Greg gradually pull ahead and out of sight. Tommy is having trouble climbing, but not as much as I am. I have to stop at some point on each hill, regain my breath, and even in some cases, walk. The humidity, which had dropped to about 50% before the rain, is back with a vengeance. On one hill, I just can't shift, and drop my chain going zero, and by some miracle can unclip before falling. Cheerleader Jimmy is right there, offering to give me a push start. He's worried about us making the final cutoff, and wants to keep his little flock of two moving. On the third pass of Sugarloaf, (an informational Control at mile 120.4- What color is the cooler at the top of Sugarloaf? Orange!!) I am having great difficulty breathing- I can actually hear myself wheeze. I swallow my pride and walk.
I am so worried about the time, and am having such a hard time with the hills, it is all I can do not to cry. If I'd have been out there all alone, without equally-suffering Tommy, sometimes ahead,
sometimes behind, and his faithful friend Jimmy, I don't know what I would have done. Well, sucked it up and continued on, I guess. That was all I could do. I appreciated the company a lot, though, such as it was. The hills never ended, even in the last ten, the last five, the last two miles. At one stop, I have turned on my blinking taillight, and at another the small emergency white LED headlight that lives on my bike permanently! (Thanks, SS!!) At the last traffic light, our bikes won't trip the light. We wait a long time. Tommy has yet to catch up to me and Jimmy. I _know_ it's down to the wire- and cross with a red light. Then there is another, but luckily traffic, too, that trips the light.
I FLY up to the front door and rip my brevet card out of the bag and run into the lobby at 8:30PM, where RBA Michael is waiting with Barb and some other riders. I _just_ made the 13.5 hour cutoff
with no time to spare, not one extra minute! I have never been this close on time. All day I have been thinking of Denise at her Ironman, how stressful it is to not have a spare minute, wondering
where I could have scrounged some time, knowing I rode absolutely as hard as I could, and it almost wasn't enough.
But it _was_ enough, and I am comforted, knowing I will never have to do this particularly torturous ride again, ever! One R-12 Award will be enough for me! And when the Horrible Hundred Century rolls around in November, covering many of the same hills, I will enjoy riding them only once each, and will never complain about one trip up each one ever again!
Some details: The new Sugoi RS Flex shorts behaved flawlessly. I never, not once, had the urge to pull at them, readjust them, dig them out of anywhere they shouldn't have been. Perfect.
The Brave Soldier Friction Zone chamois cream, put directly on me not the chamois, at every potty stop, kept me from having any sort of burning from sweat or urine, and there was nothing rubbed, or reddened, or inflamed at the end of the ride. I would describe the girlie bits as "vaguely tender, in good riding condition the next day."
I used my usual Fizik Vitesse saddle, not the being-evaluated Blackwell Flow.
I subsisted on Jelly Belly Sport Beans and Gatorade, with a chicken wrap for lunch that I picked apart, and some chips. Plenty of water, and a Succeed S! Cap every 30 minutes on a timer. No
cramps, no upset stomach, just some tired quads at the end!
Sunscreen was spray-on Neutrogena 45 for my back, spray on Coppertone 35 for my legs/arms, Neutrogena 55 lotion for my face- applied once before the ride. I had minimal redness right at the
borders on my back of the new Terry Euro Halter which I hadn't worn before.
Terry Euro Halter- no cycling cleavage, no bugs going down the front, but a little warmer on my back due to more coverage, and no cooling breezes going down the front. All in all, I liked it, it
was comfortable, but not as cool as tops with less coverage.
My 100k times were both 4.75 hours instead of my usual 4.0.
(I edited this to get rid of that horrible double spacing, and to add in the mileages that I didn't have access to when I wrote this).
