A Day to Remember

Taking a break from the usual format, I thought it would be interesting to tally up some numbers from this past year: riding, flying, traveling, meeting, seeing – and of course, eating. Not only was this an exercise in reflection and 2^nd grade math skills (i.e. addition), but it also helped me think about the most important and memorable moments of the year.

Today, I give you the story of my most epic ride, a 200-mile solo adventure through the heart of Indiana.

 

A Day to Remember

It was a Thursday evening, just like any other. I came home from work, made and ate dinner, and was now lying in bed scrolling through Instagram – you know, the usual. I scrolled through pictures of mountains, bikes, podium pics, sunsets…but then something caught my eye – a blurry snapshot of a bike computer from Chad Haga, a professional rider that I follow from Team Sunweb. A blurry snapshot like this isn’t worthy of Instagram, why would he post it? – It must be something really interesting.

I paused for a moment and looked over the stats:

Time: 11:41:51.99             Distance: 349 km              Totl. Ascent: 6493 m

Wow.

And then I realized, Chad had done this ride all by himself – no support, no team car, and no teammates for drafting, motivation, or emotional support. What intrigued me the most was not the physical feat of riding over 200 miles in a day (although that is very impressive to say the least), but the mental and emotional feat of putting yourself out there, on the road, with no one to immediately help you, for almost an entire day.

I texted my coach that night: “I want to do a 200-mile ride sometime this off-season”

He responded: “How about this weekend?”

Woah, that was fast. Am I ready for this? I have to plan the route, clean my bike, gather up all of the spare tubes and tire levers I can find, pack a lot of food, and go to bed very early on a Friday night – usually I’m a party animal on weekends, so this was the most difficult part of all.

Barely 24 hours later, my bike was cleaned, lubed, and propped up next to the front door, my kit was laid out, the food was on the counter, packaged and ready to go, and my alarm was set for 5:45AM. With only 12 hours of sunlight and an unknown number of stops ahead, I wanted to get on the road early to avoid finishing in the dark.

At 6:30AM, after consuming the biggest bowl of oatmeal the world has ever seen, I rolled out of the driveway with fresh legs and an even fresher mind.

Mile 0 to 100 was the easy part. My legs spun freely in the opening miles. The cool morning air was still and crisp, there was a fog hanging over the road, and the red sun was beginning to make its way through the clouds. At 6:30 in the morning, especially on a Saturday, there isn’t much going on. Fast food drive-thru’s are empty, stoplights continue to beat only a repetitive and dull yellow, and all was quiet on the same roads that I have been flipped off and yelled at many times before.

As I made my way out of town and into the countryside, the morning mist beautifully hung over the Indiana cornfields. All is well in the world, I thought, my legs and heart pumping along with the energy of a thousand horses.

Stop #1 – the Wilbur gas station, a hidden jewel in the Indiana countryside, and an essential part of a long Marian group ride. For years, Marian riders have taken the “Wilbur route” down from Indianapolis, along the flat and winding Mann Road, and then up and over the steep climbs of Observatory Road and Robb Hill. At the top of the final climb is the Wilbur gas station, whose owners are kind enough to let us tired cyclists clomp around their store in bulky cleats, and take some ice-cold water from the soda dispenser, free of charge. I am forever-grateful to the kind people of Wilbur, Indiana, whose free water and occasional conversation always quenched my thirst and put a smile on my face, in that order.

Normally the turnaround point of a long ride, the Wilbur gas station was a mere 36 miles into today’s ride – I still had a long way to go. After topping off my water bottles and stretching my fresh legs, I continued pedaling towards Martinsville. This is where it got interesting…

I had ridden to and around Wilbur and Martinsville many times before, but I had only once ridden further south, into Hindustan, Treviac, Cornelius, and whole bunch of other places that I can’t believe are actually tiny Indiana towns. My planning had been optimistic, on-a-whim, and adventurous; searching for a longer route, I came across a group ride on Strava from 2013, in which riders circled an odd area of Southern Indiana to complete a 107-mile ride with 10,000 feet of climbing. I figured that I could connect to this loop via a traditional Martinsville loop (of approximately 90 miles), to make a total of 200 miles for the day.

So after quietly drifting through a sleepy Martinsville, I began the 107-mile loop that I knew nothing about, other than its distance and the names of the roads I’d be riding on. I soon began the first big climb, keeping my power well-below threshold knowing I had at least 7 more hours of riding ahead.

After cresting the first climb, I enjoyed a fast, twisting descent down great roads with no cars, and my mind and body felt free. As I flew down the hill, the wind whipped through my helmet and made my jersey flutter, the morning sun illuminated the road as if it was guiding me along, and the sounds of chirping birds and crunching leaves filled the air – I smiled.

I was riding on a high, that is, until I got to the next climb. This one was much more brutal than the first – twice as steep, with gradients topping 18%, a slick road which made my rear wheel spin and struggle for traction, and a chunky section of gravel as it steepened near the top. After a few minutes of heavy breathing and too many Watts, I crested the climb with a sigh of relief. I started down the other side, but noticed that the road did not change back to pavement, it was still gravel. And now, I found myself flying down a bumpy gravel road at over 30 mph with a blind corner coming up ahead. I squeeze the brakes and my back wheels begins to slide – not the kind of cool power-sliding of a pro bike handler, but more like the panicked chaos of someone who has lost control, like a deer running out onto a frozen lake thinking it’s snow, not realizing their mistake until their feet are flailing around in the air like a drunk ballet dancer.

My back wheel isn’t spinning anymore and I’m headed towards the edge of the road, but thankfully, the gravel becomes less deep and I manage to regain control, letting out a sigh of relief much different from the sigh I let out a few minutes ago. With my heart in my mouth, I take a deep breath, put it back where it belongs, and try to regain my composure – I have a long way to go; no point in crashing now.

90 miles in, 110 miles to go.

Stop #2 (no, that is not an innuendo) – I find a gas station in Morgantown, IN and purchase some water and a sports drink (I’m not saying it wasn’t Gatorade, because they aren’t sponsoring me. Yet). My legs still feel good, and I have had plenty to eat – I packed myself a PB&J sandwich (Pro Tip: use Blueberry Eggo waffles instead of bread), a giant bag of trail mix, 4 energy bars, and 2 protein bars. Shortly after leaving the gas station, I look down at my Garmin and realize that I’m already 100 miles in. Wow, that was 100 miles already?? That was the easiest century I’ve ever done. Now I just have to do another to get home.

I reach the southern-most portion of the ride and begin making my way back, towards Martinsville. At this point, I am over 7 hours in, and I am beginning to really feel it – every climb hurts more than it should, my neck and shoulders are in just as much pain as my legs, and I no longer have any spring in my step, or pedal stroke, if that makes more sense. There is a gas station coming up soon, you can make it.

Stop #3 – I buy two King-size candy bars and eat them in the parking lot in 30 seconds flat. My pockets are almost empty now – at least I’ll be lighter on the climbs. This is the longest stop I’ve had so far.

Like any other stop, I finish eating, fill up my bottles, and I am ready to go. But this time, I just stand there. I look around at the other people in the parking lot, wondering what they think about me.

I didn’t bring any headphones on this ride – no music, no podcasts, no talking, just me and my own thoughts.

It takes a few minutes to find my legs, but sure enough, 800 calories of candy and sugar begin coursing through my blood, and I feel alive again.

140 miles in, 60 miles to go.

I emerge from the hilly, gravel loop onto paved and familiar roads. I’m headed back up towards Martinsville now, where there is one more gas station to stop at before I head home. I am only a few miles away when I see a “Road Closed” sign up ahead – I had already gone around one earlier in the ride, and with great success (I only had to hop over a pipe in the road and that was it), so I thought I would chance it and kept on riding. A mile later, I slammed on the brakes and came to a stop – the road was gone, and there was no bridge, only a sand embankment and a small river in-between the ends of the pavement. At this point, I am over 155 miles in, and I do not want to turn around and ‘just add on a couple miles’ to take the detour. So I shouldered my bike, pumped myself up with some words of encouragement, and jumped over the water, my bike slamming against my side as I landed – I felt alive again.

Stop #4 – I am drenched in sweat from head to toe.

Despite being late-September, the temperature climbs above 90 degrees this afternoon, and the humidity is not helping either. I buy two gallons of water, (yes, you read that right) drink one in the parking lot, and use the other to refill my bottles. Only 40 more miles to go. You can do this.

But at this point, I was done. And I don’t mean physically – I had plenty to eat and even more to drink, my power was good and my heart rate was high but stable, and my legs were sore but never even felt close to cramping – I was mentally done.

I could not think anymore. After over 9 hours alone in the saddle, I ran out of thoughts (or maybe I was just too tired to think). All I could think about was the number of miles left. I tried not to look at my Garmin – 157.8 miles – 160.9 miles – 162.3 miles – there was too long to go and I was going to make myself go insane by just staring at it. Instead, I tried to focus on the present moment. Okay, this climb is 3 minutes long. You’ll be at the top in 3 minutes. Here’s a steep section – try to get out of the saddle. Okay that hurt, never mind. Sit down, breathe. Focus, breathe. You’re already halfway to the top.

Stop #5 – This was unplanned.

I finished all of the major climbs and had just 30 miles to go. But it was getting late now, and I was exhausted, hungry, and thirsty. I knew there were no gas stations nearby, but there was a local park coming up soon. Please have water fountains. Please have water fountains. Please have water fountains. YES! – They have water fountains!

With 25 miles to go, I ate my last energy bar, downed another 2 bottles of water, and swung my leg over the bike one last time.

Pedaling has never been so hard. Everything hurt. Did you know your spine can hurt from riding? Oh it can, right in between your shoulder blades. Did you know your feet can hurt from riding? Yes they can – not just any pain, but the kind of pain that you experience after spending a full night out on the town in high-heels (I’ve never experienced this myself, but I imagine it is quite painful).

When I stretch my neck to look down at my Garmin, it feels like someone is holding a blowtorch up to my neck, and pinning needles into my muscles at the same time.

When people do cardio at the gym, they usually try to get their heart rate up to 130-150 bpm for 20-30 minutes, maybe even an hour. My heart rate has been 140+ bpm for over 10 hours now – is that bad?

With less than 20 miles to go, I find a new source of motivation – ice cream. I have a small pint of chocolate peanut butter ice cream waiting in the freezer when I get home. That is what I thought about for the last hour of the ride.

Stop #6 – Home.

I pull in the driveway, and nearly fall over as I struggle to climb off my bike.

200.0 miles ridden

10,577 feet of climbing

7,807 calories burned

Average power of 207 Watts

Normalized average power of 229W

I order an Extra Large pizza before I even get in the shower. They tell me it will be 30-40 minutes – just enough time to eat dinner. Eggs, ham, cereal, cornbread, salmon, and watermelon – it’s all gone before the pizza arrives.

I didn’t eat the whole pizza, but I did finish the ice cream.

(If you’re a numbers-geek like me, here is a link to my ride recorded on Strava): https://www.strava.com/activities/1198362590