feeling groovy: the somersworthit 200k
Sep. 13th, 2014 12:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bikingandbaking[So this ride report is somewhat belated; I kept meaning to do it but life has been stressing me out, and it's weirdly hard to write a report about feeling awesome when...not.]
One of the things I think I've mentioned before is what I find scenic: some things fit the standard definitions -- sun-dappled shady backroads (especially with the elusive bonus of glass-smooth pavement), quaint New England villages, etc. And one not: I would much rather see for miles by looking out over water than from a hillcrest; all of the hilltops look the same to me after a few, whereas water always looks different.
So a 200k heading up along the shore from Beverly sounded perfect. I'd been feeling blah and not riding much since DNFing the preride for the Ashburnham/Petersham 200k, but I started commuting again and figured a nice flat 200k would be great.
It was. Glorious, glorious, glorious. Route 1A supposedly can get crowded, but it wasn't, and I set off in the middle of the small pack that had trekked up there. I was promptly dropped, and felt slow, but I knew that was because I was used to starting brevets after riding out to Lexington/Concord, and this one I had driven to. (It would have been at least a 300k day if I'd ridden to this one!) I let my legs warm up on their own schedule, and was in quite short order whipping up the shore at ~15mph rolling average, which is good for me. We definitely didn't have the potential tailwind that going north was meant to give, but I don't think we had much of a headwind if any, either. A pair of riders caught up to me -- I had thought everyone was in front of me, but nope; we didn't quite form a pack but we did loosely ride along together for long stretches throughout the next 80 miles or so.
The first stop, thirty-odd miles in and just after crossing the Merrimack on the Chain Bridge, was a Dunkin Donuts, where more of the riders were just finishing up; it looks like that one is open 24/7, so I might be able to use it on my own 24-hour route.
We continued north, meandering to find a bridge over the Piscataqua that was open, and we were in Maine. (Both state crossings were mid-bridge, so alas, no fun pictures.) This stretch was really beautiful; ever-so-gently rolling terrain by the shore, and no traffic. When I think of Kittery, Maine, I think of freeways and giant malls; this was the exact opposite.
The lunch stop was a slight disappointment; from the name I'd assumed it was a restaurant, but it was just Ye Olde Standard General Store. Which was fine, really, especially as they had sparkling lemonade, the elixir of my youthful biking days. (When one didn't cheer me up on the Ashburnham/Petersham ride, I knew I was in trouble...) So I set off much more quickly than I'd planned; I'd sort of intended to take the ride easy, but I'd had fun zooming up the coast quickly, I hadn't brought my camera, and now there wasn't even a reason to lolligag over lunch.
The road turned inland and to quiet wooded streets; another control got me a slightly-irritating super-surprised look from the clerk when I handed over my card just after two other riders; yes, I'm doing this ride too. No, I'm not a skinny middle aged dude. Yes, I'm possibly being oversensitive, *eyeroll*. Whatevs. I bought my sports-drink and junk food (swiss rolls! I was craving sweet gooey things most of this ride; I don't argue with my stomach's cravings on rides). The clerk at the stop after this one made up for it; she was impressed by how far I'd ridden but talked about riding her 5-mile commute; hooray for bike commuters. But I get ahead of myself...
A bit later, I was curious how fast I'd been going. I'd slowed down some when we turned inland, intentionally making myself relax into all-day pace, but I felt good, and some quick math said I was on track to equal my first century time -- one I'd never repeated. That had been flat ground like this brevet -- the CRW spring century, and most of my distance rides since had been hilly. Or at least hillier, plus I hadn't had the GPS yet so I didn't actually have a record aside from an average rolling speed and a total time.
So I sped up and rode a 7:49 century (total). Not quite as fast, theoretically, as my 7:58 on the CRW ride had been, since that was technically somewhere around 104 miles. And a slower moving average; I've gotten very good at eating/drinking on the bike, but while it helps my overall times, it slows the moving-only speed. So 13.9 still remains my best average for an entire long ride; this one came close, though. And I felt great, so after cruising along for a while more I looked at the cue sheet and my watch and set an aggressive time goal for making it into the control at 111 miles -- IIRC it was 6 miles out and I gave myself 25 minutes, which is just over 4 minute miles. Done. I did need a bathroom break at that point so it was a slightly longer stop, but I was still back on the road quickly, and decided to knock off a few more goals.
Step one: a 10-hour 200k. Now, this ride was a fair bit over 200k -- 137.5 miles, while 200k is 124.6. I set my sights on a cue at 125 miles as the "end" (my GPS tends to run a little short with distances; my wired computer runs a little over, so I went with the cue.) and went for it. Boom, done. I wasn't sight-seeing much now; every once in a while I'd take a deep breath and look around and notice it was pretty riding; then I'd put my head back down and book it. The last goal: set a new "200k" PR even though this ride was long; this meant coming in under 10:58. This was hard; my sides were heaving as I breathed, sucking in air to stay aerobic, and I was digging deep. A small hill loomed -- let's neg split this bitch I said to myself, which isn't exactly PC but it is what I thought, and I poured on the power.
It was very pretty, though; while I wasn't spending much thought on it, it made it easy to focus. And I was having fun pushing myself, even if profanity was involved. While I don't have any pictures from the ride, this one was taken just after passing under a bridge I went over on the ride:
And it was the same beautiful sort of cool late-summer/early-fall day as that canoe trip, too. 10:49. I'd done the last 37.5 miles in 3 hours precisely, despite them being the most rolling of the gently-rolling terrain all day, and the fact that I'd already ridden a century.
The next day, I was sore -- I'd thought I might be, since I hadn't been riding much. But it wasn't my legs that were sore -- it was the little intercostal muscles between my ribs -- from sucking air in as hard as I could. Everything else felt great; I could gone out for a ride (instead, I set up my fancy new exercise bike, but more on that later). Bodies are weird, yo. And I'd found new depths of strength in mine; I could, in fact, do a close to 4 hours pushing hard the whole way, without needing to be chasing a group to do it. I could push up small hills without going too anaerobic and slowing myself down overall; I could keep my legs moving down small hills while catching my breath back. And I could have great fun doing it. Brevets aren't races, not at all, but it feels good to push sometimes.
The 200k in question is also available as a permanent -- highly, highly recommended. And as a permanent you get the extra time alloted for the miles (or more precisely kilometers) over 200k; it would make an excellent ride for people wanting to try their first 200k. Not that there's anything wrong with climbing mountains -- but you don't need them to have a good ride.
One of the things I think I've mentioned before is what I find scenic: some things fit the standard definitions -- sun-dappled shady backroads (especially with the elusive bonus of glass-smooth pavement), quaint New England villages, etc. And one not: I would much rather see for miles by looking out over water than from a hillcrest; all of the hilltops look the same to me after a few, whereas water always looks different.
So a 200k heading up along the shore from Beverly sounded perfect. I'd been feeling blah and not riding much since DNFing the preride for the Ashburnham/Petersham 200k, but I started commuting again and figured a nice flat 200k would be great.
It was. Glorious, glorious, glorious. Route 1A supposedly can get crowded, but it wasn't, and I set off in the middle of the small pack that had trekked up there. I was promptly dropped, and felt slow, but I knew that was because I was used to starting brevets after riding out to Lexington/Concord, and this one I had driven to. (It would have been at least a 300k day if I'd ridden to this one!) I let my legs warm up on their own schedule, and was in quite short order whipping up the shore at ~15mph rolling average, which is good for me. We definitely didn't have the potential tailwind that going north was meant to give, but I don't think we had much of a headwind if any, either. A pair of riders caught up to me -- I had thought everyone was in front of me, but nope; we didn't quite form a pack but we did loosely ride along together for long stretches throughout the next 80 miles or so.
The first stop, thirty-odd miles in and just after crossing the Merrimack on the Chain Bridge, was a Dunkin Donuts, where more of the riders were just finishing up; it looks like that one is open 24/7, so I might be able to use it on my own 24-hour route.
We continued north, meandering to find a bridge over the Piscataqua that was open, and we were in Maine. (Both state crossings were mid-bridge, so alas, no fun pictures.) This stretch was really beautiful; ever-so-gently rolling terrain by the shore, and no traffic. When I think of Kittery, Maine, I think of freeways and giant malls; this was the exact opposite.
The lunch stop was a slight disappointment; from the name I'd assumed it was a restaurant, but it was just Ye Olde Standard General Store. Which was fine, really, especially as they had sparkling lemonade, the elixir of my youthful biking days. (When one didn't cheer me up on the Ashburnham/Petersham ride, I knew I was in trouble...) So I set off much more quickly than I'd planned; I'd sort of intended to take the ride easy, but I'd had fun zooming up the coast quickly, I hadn't brought my camera, and now there wasn't even a reason to lolligag over lunch.
The road turned inland and to quiet wooded streets; another control got me a slightly-irritating super-surprised look from the clerk when I handed over my card just after two other riders; yes, I'm doing this ride too. No, I'm not a skinny middle aged dude. Yes, I'm possibly being oversensitive, *eyeroll*. Whatevs. I bought my sports-drink and junk food (swiss rolls! I was craving sweet gooey things most of this ride; I don't argue with my stomach's cravings on rides). The clerk at the stop after this one made up for it; she was impressed by how far I'd ridden but talked about riding her 5-mile commute; hooray for bike commuters. But I get ahead of myself...
A bit later, I was curious how fast I'd been going. I'd slowed down some when we turned inland, intentionally making myself relax into all-day pace, but I felt good, and some quick math said I was on track to equal my first century time -- one I'd never repeated. That had been flat ground like this brevet -- the CRW spring century, and most of my distance rides since had been hilly. Or at least hillier, plus I hadn't had the GPS yet so I didn't actually have a record aside from an average rolling speed and a total time.
So I sped up and rode a 7:49 century (total). Not quite as fast, theoretically, as my 7:58 on the CRW ride had been, since that was technically somewhere around 104 miles. And a slower moving average; I've gotten very good at eating/drinking on the bike, but while it helps my overall times, it slows the moving-only speed. So 13.9 still remains my best average for an entire long ride; this one came close, though. And I felt great, so after cruising along for a while more I looked at the cue sheet and my watch and set an aggressive time goal for making it into the control at 111 miles -- IIRC it was 6 miles out and I gave myself 25 minutes, which is just over 4 minute miles. Done. I did need a bathroom break at that point so it was a slightly longer stop, but I was still back on the road quickly, and decided to knock off a few more goals.
Step one: a 10-hour 200k. Now, this ride was a fair bit over 200k -- 137.5 miles, while 200k is 124.6. I set my sights on a cue at 125 miles as the "end" (my GPS tends to run a little short with distances; my wired computer runs a little over, so I went with the cue.) and went for it. Boom, done. I wasn't sight-seeing much now; every once in a while I'd take a deep breath and look around and notice it was pretty riding; then I'd put my head back down and book it. The last goal: set a new "200k" PR even though this ride was long; this meant coming in under 10:58. This was hard; my sides were heaving as I breathed, sucking in air to stay aerobic, and I was digging deep. A small hill loomed -- let's neg split this bitch I said to myself, which isn't exactly PC but it is what I thought, and I poured on the power.
It was very pretty, though; while I wasn't spending much thought on it, it made it easy to focus. And I was having fun pushing myself, even if profanity was involved. While I don't have any pictures from the ride, this one was taken just after passing under a bridge I went over on the ride:
And it was the same beautiful sort of cool late-summer/early-fall day as that canoe trip, too. 10:49. I'd done the last 37.5 miles in 3 hours precisely, despite them being the most rolling of the gently-rolling terrain all day, and the fact that I'd already ridden a century.
The next day, I was sore -- I'd thought I might be, since I hadn't been riding much. But it wasn't my legs that were sore -- it was the little intercostal muscles between my ribs -- from sucking air in as hard as I could. Everything else felt great; I could gone out for a ride (instead, I set up my fancy new exercise bike, but more on that later). Bodies are weird, yo. And I'd found new depths of strength in mine; I could, in fact, do a close to 4 hours pushing hard the whole way, without needing to be chasing a group to do it. I could push up small hills without going too anaerobic and slowing myself down overall; I could keep my legs moving down small hills while catching my breath back. And I could have great fun doing it. Brevets aren't races, not at all, but it feels good to push sometimes.
The 200k in question is also available as a permanent -- highly, highly recommended. And as a permanent you get the extra time alloted for the miles (or more precisely kilometers) over 200k; it would make an excellent ride for people wanting to try their first 200k. Not that there's anything wrong with climbing mountains -- but you don't need them to have a good ride.