100km Medio Fondo (Second Ever Metric Century)

Joy here...Last August I signed up for and completed my very first metric century ride (100kms).  I rode with a group of people out on a cold and windy day as part of the "Share the Road" initiative.

The long line of keen cyclists waiting outside the
registration tent.

This July I signed up for my very second metric century ride (100kms), as part of the 1st annual Ottawa Gran Fondo...a three-distance event organized in the spirit of gran fondo rides in other parts of the world.  There's a SuprFondo (220kms), a GranFondo (170kms), and a MedioFondo (100kms).

We signed in on Friday, and as this is just the first year of the event, there are a few wrinkles still to be ironed out in the execution of the event...I don't want to complain, because I'm super happy that this event exists, but the line ups to register were INSANE.  After our looooooong wait to register and get our kit, we went for a much-needed drink, followed by dinner at the hotel, where one, by one, we texted our other friends who were riding and lured them from the line up to the dinner table.

Post-Registration, Pre-
Ride libation.

Why wait in line when you can
hang out with friends??

Then we got up bright and early on Saturday morning, and my new fast friend, Turbo Tricia, (who I met on Thursday and then rode with on Friday) told us that she opted to ride the 100km distance with me and The Man.  We met up under the blue sky and hot sun for our 9am start time and got right up to the front of the starters.

We thought we'd average around 30km/hr, taking it easy as we rode over the rolling terrain through the countryside to the west of Ottawa, but as soon as the announcer said "Go!" that front group (with us in it) was off like a shot!  We were racing out of there at speeds around 40km/hr.  Soon a tight, but fast group arranged itself around us, with that little Turbo up on the front, and me working in the group, staying on the wheel of the person in front of me.  It was faster than I thought we would be going, but I felt good and strong.  The group was working well together, with some strong riders up front, and the rest of us along for a fast, hard ride through the countryside.

My average speed...just under 33km/hr.

At around the 30km mark, we wheeled into the first water/toilet station.  As is usual for me, I was in the portapotty before the wheels on my bike stopped turning.  When I got back on my bike and headed out with the rest of the group, we were still on our hell-for-leather pace.  I was sweating under the ever warming summer sun, but I was able to hold the wheels of the strong rider in the group; I was able to take my turn on the front pulling the group; I was able to stay strong over the rollers; and I was feeling great...like there was nothing my legs couldn't do.

At around the 60km mark, we had to take a detour for the next water/toilet station.  By that point I was all out of water.  My two 750ml bottles were utterly dry, as I had been sucking on them for the previous hour and a half.  I filled them up with stale (but icy cold) water from the coolers at the feed station, and then our group rolled out.  Unfortunately, a few of us got caught behind traffic trying to pull out of the feed station.  While the stronger riders up front peeled away from us, some of us were stuck watching traffic go by.  Then when our opportunity presented itself, I pulled out and put my head down and just time trialled away on my own to catch up with everyone (including The Man who had made the split).  I was riding at over 40km/hr, and the rest of the group who had been caught behind with me couldn't hold my wheel.  I was on my own, when I saw the group up ahead.  They were just rolling away from a stop light and were slow enough for me to catch them.  I slowed down to the 35km/hr pace that the group was holding, but my legs were tired.  Our group was a lot smaller than it had been before the split at the last feed station.

So with two strong guys up front, Turbo, me, The Man, and a couple of others, we rolled onwards, over a rough gravel section of road and onwards to the last 1/3 of the metric century.

And then my back pain showed up.

Not again!!!!

That back pain first appeared at my first ever bunch fondo ride back in May, and then it showed up with a vengeance when The Man and I rode two loops of the park before the bike race, but it was a real pain in the back during my first ever bike race last Sunday, and now it was here again, at kilometre 79 of this 100km ride.  And with the arrival of the lower back pain, I experienced the departure of any power in my legs.

The group was riding, and my legs were turning, but those riders were getting farther and farther away from me.  I watched my speed go from 38km/hr, to 35km/hr, down to 32km/hr in a matter of seconds, all the while the group was riding away from me into the blue skies and rolling green hills.  The Man soft pedalled back to me, but I couldn't even catch up to him or shout to him to carry on.  I was just in my own, small world filled with pain.  I told him to go on, and he began his own time trial to catch up to the rest of the group.

I looked down to see that I was at kilometre 81, and I had less than 20 kilometres of pure suffering ahead of me.  Well, I figured I could do that.  So I just put my head down and went to a dark, dark hurty place.  I was sure that my back pain was actually renal failure from something in the mystery water I drank.  I saw a long life ahead of me with dialysis; I've seen Steel Magnolias...I know how bad that ends.

So I just put my head down and suffered my own, personal kidney damage, pedalling all by myself and just wallowing in self pity.

But then, at around kilometre 85, suddenly my legs were turning more quickly even through the back pain.  I caught up to another rider and clung to his heel for a while.  He had a sign on his back "I'm riding for Martine" with a link to the Princess Margaret Cancer care centre, ibelieveit.ca, on his back.  I don't know who Martine is, or what that person's battle is or why this guy was out there under a hot sun  by himself suffering through the final leg of a 100km ride, but it sure put my own little back pain into perspective.  After recovering on this guy's wheel for a while, I was feeling better, and I pulled in front of him; "hey, thanks for the tow, I'll take my turn on the front for a while," I said.  So we took turns pulling on the front, and we were joined by another girl who was out there suffering by herself.  The three of us rode together, each taking turns on the front, each making small talk, and each counting down the final kilometres.

And then we hit kilometre 100.

But we were in the middle of the country side.  There was no finish line.  There was no hotel.  There were only trees and rural country roads.

Kilometre 103:  Still nothing familiar.

My well deserved post ride meal & beer.

Kilometre 105:  Finally, we turned into a subdivision that looked familiar from Friday's "loosen the legs" ride.  I put my head down, pedalled, and my speed was back up to 40km/hr before I knew it.  The group of us all gathered together at the red light, and with nearly no time at all, we were turning down the road towards the finish line where The Man was waiting, people were cheering, and there was cold beer waiting for me at the conclusion of my second ever 100km ride.

Ride Stats:
Distance:  108km
Time:  3:17
Average Speed:  33km/hr

Over and out,
Joy

First Ever Road Race: Gatineau Grand Prix (Loops #19 & #20)

Joy here...Earlier this spring I made the decision not to train for a full marathon this summer, even though my co-blogger, Nomi, has now gone on to do TWO full marathons (read about her first one here and her second one here) since we first started this blog as a way to track our training after competing in our first-ever running race (a 10km race in Singapore in May 2010).

Hot on the heels of the decision not to train for a full marathon, was my decision to take my cycling more seriously and throw myself into as many local events on the bike that I could find.

Race kit all set and ready to go!

So in May I competed in my first timed bunch bike ride--the Gatineau MedioFondo--as well as the 10km Time Trials--on three separate weeks in May, finishing in 17:51, then in 17:13, and finally in 16:59--now I'm also competing in the weekly 15km Time Trials--averaging around 25:45 so far--and back in mid-June I began toying with the idea of competing in my first ever real cycling road race, the local Gatineau Grand Prix (which, by the way, is the largest annual bike race in Canada, with over 600 participants in various categories).

Today was race day.

I did it.

It was just before 8am when we loaded the bike and the cooler and the supplies up in the car to head over to the park where the race start was (and where the more competitive categories were already out on the road racing).  It was already 30C by then, and by mid-day the mercury would reach 35C, feeling more like 41C with the humidex.  So it was hot, damn hot.  I rode around for approximately 40 minutes to try to warm up my legs by doing some hard efforts, and then, before I knew it, I was looking down at my clock and realizing it was time to roll my way over to the start line with the rest of my category's racers, the Novice Women.

Many were lined up along the side of the road by the start line, looking nervous and eager.  Most had never raced before, and we wished each other luck, and looked around to figure out the proper kind of start-line etiquette.  Should we be on the front?  Should we find a safe place at the back?  Is it better to be at the side of the group?  Since the Novice Women were starting with the Men 60+ category, there were about 40 of us all gathered in a group to begin.  I was on my bike behind an elderly guy who looked pretty fit, so I figured that he'd know what to do off the start line.  Then the race organizers counted us down, and we were off.

Or rather, some of us were off.

Getting ready to warm up and get started!

My first mistake of the race was getting behind that old guy, who took about a 100 years to clip onto his bike and get pedalling.  I ended up riding around him to make sure that I was in the main group off the start line.

My second mistake was being on the outside right of the group, because as I pedalled my way to try to get closer to the front of the group, I had to pass people on the right-hand side; I shouted that I was "on your right" as I came up beside people, but I know that it was probably disconcerting to be passed on the right.  Oh well.  They should have just pedalled harder.

Then we approached the first climb--Fortune Climb--and already my third mistake was beginning to take its toll.  By not being right at the front of the group when we started the race, I put myself at the mercy of the riders ahead of me.  If they didn't stick to the riders ahead of them, then I, too, would fall back from those front riders.  And that's exactly what happened.  As we started the climb, I looked ahead, and there was already a smaller group part way up the first part of the climb, and I knew I wouldn't be able to catch them while climbing.  So I just settled in with a group of four women riders and rode up with them.

And that's when things started to get good.

One of the riders was more experienced than the rest of us, and she had us taking turns on the front of our little four-person cycling group.  Each of us stayed on the front for no longer than 30 seconds, and then we rotated back.  This way we kept our speed up without taxing ourselves too much.  I felt good and strong.

Photo courtesy of the Ottawa Citizen. (Photo by Jana Chytilova)

And then when I was on the front for one of the rollers after the turnaround at the top point of the 21km loop (the whole race was two loops), my back pain from last week showed up, and I began to fall off the pace.  In a matter of seconds, I went from taking my 30second turn on the front of our group of four women and two men who had joined us, to drifting back through the group and off the back.  Then, before I could do anything about it, I could see them slowly pulling away from me.  I tried changing to an easier gear to pedal faster to see if I could catch them...that didn't work; I tried changing to a harder gear to force myself up to them...that didn't work.  I was forced to watch them pull ever-so-slightly away from me, leaving me all on my own, knowing full well that a single rider just can't keep the same high pace as a group of riders working together.

I was deflated.  And to add insult to injury, my back was killing me.

Photo courtesy of the Ottawa Citizen. (Photo by Jana Chytilova)

So I entered that sad and dark place where all my insecurities jumped to the fore of my brain with a vengeance.  "What are you doing, cycling, you don't know what you're doing!"  "You're probably causing permanent damage to your back."  "You should just quit now."  "You'll never be able to finish."  "Your time will be embarrassing."  "Just go home."  etc. etc.  So while the sun got hotter and hotter up above, and the sweat was pouring down my face as I struggled through every pedal stroke on an empty stretch of road high in the Gatineau Park I had to contend with those little voices getting louder and louder and more and more insistent.

Then I remembered the motto on my road ID--"pain is temporary"--that got me through last week's painful ride, and I remembered the full quotation from which that little motto is taken:

"Pain is temporary.  It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place.  If I quit, however, it lasts forever."

Lance Armstrong

Now I know that people are of two minds about Lance Armstrong.  One camp sees him as an inspiration, a living legend, while the other camp sees him as an unrepentant doping cheat.  All I can say is that while I was out there ticking off the kilometres all by myself, I sure was happy to think of those words of his.  I used them to shut up my little voices but good.

And then, just as I was able to shut up those voices, I rode past The Man on the side of the road cheering loudly for me and yelling, "you're in the top five, keep going!"  And I thought to myself, "top five?  How is that possible?  He must be wrong."  

Photo courtesy of the Ottawa Citizen.  (Photo by Jana Chytilova)

I started that Fortune Climb for the second time, the group no longer visible ahead of me, and all alone in my suffering up the hill.  I tried not to look down at my little computer that tells speed, because each time I did, I was surprised by how slow I was going.  I mean, I've ridden that climb many times before, and I have a rough sense of what kind of speed I can hold as I ride up it.  Let's just say, I was nowhere near my normal speed today.

Then as I hit the rollers after the top of the climb--the very spot where I had been dropped off the group I had been riding so well with--my little cycling guardian angel showed up.  Mr. #476 who was in the Men's 40+ category and doing 4 loops of the park had clearly been dropped off his main group, and was riding alone.  He came up behind me and said, "the two of us suffering can just pull each other home."  And that's exactly what we did.  The two of us began taking turns on the front, keeping our speed up, and somehow with the advent of company, my legs got that extra burst of energy that they needed.  Then as we rode the two of us together, we passed one of the women who had been on that original group that I was riding with.  We blew right past her and she wasn't able to hang on to our wheel.  Then we approached another woman, and I shouted to her to join us, so the three of us made a pretty solid group riding home together.

Maybe next time, I'll be racing in this kit!

As we approached the finishing straight, the other girl and I knew that we were in the same category, so we started sprinting each other.  I didn't have much in my legs for a sprint, but I put my bike into a hard gear and pedalled as hard as I could.  I thought I had her, but the finishing line was about a foot too far away for me, and she was able to pull ahead.  

In the end, she snagged 5th spot, and I took 6th.

But as we rolled over the finish line together, congratulating each other, she looked at me and said, "what team do you ride with?"  And I said, "um, no one, this is my first race."  And she said, "well, you should ride with us!"  So I've been invited to join an actual cycling team (CycleFit Chicks)...after my first ever race!

So in the end, I learned a lot about what mistakes not to make in a bike race, and I learned how to suffer through discomfort.  

And now that it's all over, I couldn't be prouder or happier.

Fabian Cancellara (or what I imagine I look like in
my own mind sometimes).

Fabian Cancellara, one of my favourite professional cyclists (who you should totally follow on twitter, because he's hilarious), said that in a race there are two results:  there's your personal result, i.e. how you felt about your performance on the day, and then there's your result when you compare yourself against others.  That makes a whole lot of sense to me, and I was thinking about that as I huffed and puffed in the hot sun at the finish line, feeling contentment at being sought out for a team (she came up to me numerous times to make sure that I'd join her team).

So here are my race results:

Time:  1:27 (under the 1:30 time that I had set for myself)

Average Pace:  28.6km/hr (better than the 27km/hr I average on my Wednesday rides)

Distance:  42km

Placing:  6th out of 23

Over and out,

Joy

Note:  For more pictures and a video, please see the Ottawa Citizen's coverage of the race, by clicking here.

Fourth 15km Time Trial: Metallic Legs & Figuring Averages

Joy here...After my painful two-loop ride of the park on Sunday, when my back and my legs were screaming in pain, and I tried in vain to convince myself of the truth in the slogan that "pain is temporary," I took Monday off and was all set for Tuesday's weekly time trial.

The day was not too hot (around 28C), with very little wind, blue skies spotted with white, cotton clouds, and a number of team race riders showed up to compete, making us all think that tonight was a night for fast times and personal bests.

While last week only 14 riders showed up to race in the gusting winds and the rain, this week there were 34 racers gearing up to start.

While last week my start was screwed up a bit, this week, I was off like a flash as soon as my countdown was done.

I quickly hit 40km/hr as I got up to speed, topping 400w.  So I was all set for a good ride.  All I had to do was keep my power at around 200w and my speed over 35km/hr for 15kms.

It wasn't a tall order.  I've done it before.

Lady Deathstrike

But somehow, each time I looked down at my little computer, I was disappointed with what I saw.  My wattage kept dipping down to around 180w, and then I'd have to pedal harder to get it up to my target of 200w.  Then I'd hold it there, thinking that I held my cadence steady, only to look down and find out that my speed had dipped down to 33km/hr.  No matter what I tried, I just couldn't keep my numbers up.  My legs must have been pumped full of liquid adamantium, like that scene from the X Men 2 when Wolverine kills Lady Deathstrike by filling her veins with liquid metal...as he lets her die we hear her head clink hard against the glass container in which she is laid.  And I somehow felt like I knew what she must have been feeling, because as I was out there riding tonight, I'm sure my legs would have clinked heavily were there anything to touch them, because they sure weren't moving fast at all.

There's nothing more discouraging than looking down at disappointing numbers, but not being able to do anything about it.

And then, when I was feeling dispirited, at the 11.44km mark that back pain from Sunday's ride showed up with a vengeance, and all I could do was convince myself that I had less than 4kms left of suffering, and I just needed to stop looking at anything--distance, speed, time, wattage--and pedal my little heart out until the finish line, blocking out everything (including back pain and metallic legs).

In the end, my time was 25:50 and my speed 34.84km/hr, so certainly not a personal best, but better than the day I raced with two glasses of champagne working their way through my system.

Discounting that tipsy ride, I now have three 15km Time Trials under my belt:
June 5th--Time: 25:44, Speed: 34.97km/hr
July 3rd--Time:  25:41, Speed: 35.04km/hr
July 10th--Time: 25:50, Speed: 34.84km/hr

Thank goodness for salty, post-race delivery food!

So my averages for these three (giving me a baseline measurement) are:
Time: 25:45, Speed: 34.95km/hr.

Now my next step is to look into getting aero bars for my bike and playing with positioning, to see if that can help me improve on that average baseline.

But before that...I'm going to settle down and eat a nice meal from Greek on Wheels who just showed up at my doorstep with balm for my hurt and metallic soul.

Over and out,
Joy

Beautiful Day......[Nomi's Second Marathon]

Nomi says,

So, Lulu wanted to run her first marathon this year and she wanted to run somewhere with pleasant weather and a very flat route. She suggested Gold Coast, Australia, we badgered our respective families into agreeing and thus, our great adventure began.

As with my previous marathon, i had a training plan all mapped out on a nice big calendar. And as with my training for the previous marathon...I couldn't really follow it. I tried to run at least 3 times in the gym during weekdays and tried to do a long run during weekends with Lulu. About 1 month before race day, we decided to do one long run of at least 30kms. If we could do that much, I was sure that we could finish 42kms. Lulu gave me a pair of CW-X compression tights, and i decided to try those out. Which was not a good idea. I was not used to them, and they compressed in ways that made my right knee and thigh hurt. So, I decided not to run anymore after that. I wanted my knee to recover for the marathon. I would go to the gym and use the various machines there to maintain my fitness, but not strain the joints. It was a compromise of sorts. If i didn't run anymore, my knee would recover. But, I knew that my endurance and strength would be affected to a certain degree. But I guess, as long as i could finish in time, it would do.

The weather in Gold Coast was expected to be in the range of 9 to 20C during the race. I had no idea what to wear. I live in a place with only 2 types of weather. Hot and dry or hot and wet...with haze intermittently.  I thought that I had to wear long sleeves, long tights, a wind cheater, a hat, a balaclava maybe, throw in some gloves, thick socks and make a thorough fool of myself :) ...So, i asked the Guru of Cold Weather -Joy, for her opinion...and she said, a sleeveless T and 3/4 tights would do. 'Cool and clear is the best weather to run in ', Joy said. Honestly, i was a little skeptical, cause she was used to sub-zero temperatures, but she would know cause she ran in similar weather during her first half marathon. So, a T-shirt and tights it would be. It was also raining in the days right up to the race, so i managed to get some plastic rainwear, which kind of looked like a garbage bag with a hood and sleeves. I assumed that the race would be well organized, so left my camelbak at home. I would rely on whatever hydration fluids provided but I did bring my GU gels. I also didn't bring my GPS. I would run with my usual pace and there probably would be pacers and distance markers by the road.
The day of race dawned bight and clear. It was truly a Beautiful Day. The rained had stopped the day before and temperatures were expected to be about 10 to 23 degrees. But to me it was still cold. It was about 14C before the race. It was like going to a big, big party . There were thousands of runners mingling around. Most were in sleeveless T's and shorts. Some were covered from head to toe, with wind cheaters, hand warmers, gloves, full tights, garbage bags with holes for the head and arms. And some were in costume too. There was a Japanese lady with a tutu and a veil, a few with short cotton kimonos over running gear, one dressed as a frog, one as 'Dragonball' , one in a superman costume, and there was an air of festivity and fun. The runners were categorized according to the expected finishing time. Me and Lulu were in wave D, which was 4 hr 30mins and thereafter. We made our way to our category.....and there were so few runners there, maybe less than 75 or so. The majority of them were in groups expecting to finish much earlier.

The gun went off at 7.20 am and it took 5 minutes before i crossed the start line. I think that this race was one of the nicest that i have run. The weather was wonderful. The route was through coastal roads alongside beautiful beaches, through suburbs along the sea and since it was a Sunday, a lot of residents had decided to come out and make an event of it. There were street musicians along the way Some people had barbies in their gardens, many were walking dogs, some stood by the road holding placards for people running the race, some stood in the boot of their pick up trucks with load hailers cheering the runners along and the participation from all these people and observers were fantastic. Strangers clapped, cheered you on, waved, called out your name on your bib, encouraged, told you what a good job you were doing, drivers honked and shouted encouragement from their cars, children stood by the road-side to touch your hand as you passed them and this was truly a novelty for me. These people made you feel welcome running in their neighborhoods.

My knee was fine in the beginning of the race. However, I did wonder if the Australian kilometer was longer than the Malaysian one. It felt like it took forever just to complete a kilometer. 1 hour and 10 minutes into the race, when all i ran was about 11kms or so, the elite runners were returning! There was a wave of Kenyans....soon followed by the elite runners and after another kilometer or so a hoard of A wave and B wave runners thundered pass. And I had only completer about a quarter of what i was supposed to do...The temperature may be moderate but the sunlight is strong. It was hot and blasting in my face for the longest time. Luckily i had a hat and sunglasses. I kept wondering about Lulu who only wore a bandana cause she was not used to hats or sunglasses. We had started of running together initially but we drifted away after a while.

After 25kms or so, i felt the muscles of my legs stiffen, tighten and become mildly uncooperative. However the knee held up and there was no outward discomfort from it. I stopped and drank at every hydration station. But, I think I probably drank too much cause I needed at least 3 toilet stops.The fluids provided were dilute and mildly 'detergent' tasting. But, something was better than nothing. Also, it was hot but quite dry. I could feel my skin baking and drying out in that strong glaring light. Somewhere before the 32km mark, Lulu caught up with me and we progressed together. However she soon started cramping up at 32kms or so. She couldn't move and was in a lot of pain. To cut a long story short, we had to walk after that. Despite hydrating herself and consuming energy gels, she did not get better. She knew that these cramps were from under -training, not electrolyte imbalance. I asked her to rest  by the road, to sit for a while, but she told me, 'Once i sit - i know i won't be able to get up again'. So, limp, hobble and push forward she did. I could see the frustration and pain she was in. She had been doing really well and if she didn't have cramps, she would have finished her first full marathon in very good time. After walking for about 6 kms or so, she told me to go on without her. She said - 'This is not what i wanted for you. You go on'.  By that time we had less than 4 kms left to go and a little more than an hour before cut off time. My legs were really hurting by then and I ran-walked to the finish line at 5 hr 54 mins. Lulu reached 5 minutes later. I am so proud of the both of us :) It was a good race to run I look forward to our next race together, hopefully with Joy too.

Third 15km Time Trial: Baby's Got Back

According to my 2-year old
nephew, she's a dead ringer for me!

Joy here...Over a week ago I was in Winnipeg for work (as you know, since I blogged about it), and since that also happens to be my home town, my sister took the opportunity to travel there with my nephew at the same time so that we could all have a visit.

The little sucker has grown a lot since I babysat him back in November, but does remain the same is his toddler's amount of energy!  I may not have done any working out while I was away, but I did my fair share of running around with him.

One of the words he knows (and puts to good use) is "Chase!"  And let me tell you, there's nothing like a little blond cherub looking up at you with his big brown eyes, his dimpled cheeks, and trusting you implicitly to "Chase!" to make you run around like a crazy person, making funny sounds and giggling!

After that week of "Chase!" I was one of the little guy's favourites, and when he got home, he looked at his nanny's book cover and thought the cover image was me!  What can I say?  The little guy recognizes a cyclist's butt when he sees one!

For that butt has a lot of power in it:  Even after taking 2 weeks off the bike, 2 weeks between Time Trials I was able to head out last night into the rain and gusting winds to complete my third-ever 15 km Time Trial with my best time to date.

Even though my start was compromised because the guy at the start didn't give me a countdown and just yelled "go!" out of the blue, leaving both me and the guy holding my bike to think he was joking, thus costing me a few seconds off the start, I was able to pull off a 25:41 time, with an average speed of 35.12km/hr and an average power output of 200watts.*

And all of that is thanks to my butt.

That's right...baby's got back!

Over and out,
Joy

The ominous skies...just to give you a sense of what
we were riding in!

*This according to my CycleOps Joule computer mounted to my bike.  The Time Trial organizers haven't posted the official results yet.

Second 15km Time Trial: A Little Tipsy!

Joy here...When we woke up Tuesday morning, the rain was falling, and the sky was grey.  The weather network called for rain showers all day, turning into thunderstorms later on in the afternoon and early evening, so since it was The Man's birthday, we figured we'd have a bit of a "Yahoo Day" and head out for a decadent lunch--multiple tapas plates, champagne, chocolate pate--and I wouldn't go to the weekly time trial.  I mean, it would be cancelled if there was thunder and lightning...no one wants to be struck, just for the sake of a local bike race.

Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you...

But then, lo and behold, by 4pm, the skies were clearing up.  The rain had stopped, and the cloud cover began to thin.  So with two glasses of champagne bubbling in my tummy, I got myself dressed in my cycling gear, loaded up the bike, and headed out to the start line of the weekly time trial.

And...wouldn't you know it?...of course the weather predictions were wrong, and there were no thundershowers; in fact, the rain had let up enough that the road was drying out as I warmed up and got ready (and by now I should have known better than to trust the weather reports).

The weather wasn't out to get me, but that chocolate dessert and the champagne were sitting like rocks in my distended belly, and my attention on the world around me seemed a little fractured.

In fact, I think I may have been just the teensiest bit tipsy.  But would I let a little booze keep me from competing?  Of course not.

But would that little bit of booze keep me from being competitive?  Of course it would.

Me warming up (please don't throw up,
please don't throw up, please don't throw up...)

As I started out onto the course, I realized that the wind was a lot stronger than I had expected and that my legs were a little wobbly from the indulgences.  I pedalled, and I huffed, and I chased down the woman who started 30 seconds in front of me, but at the turnaround point, I did the math in my head and realized that I was looking at a 27minute completion time, a full 86 seconds slower than last week.  Then as I was doing that tipsy math and willing my legs to somehow find some more strength, I was passed by the woman who started 30 seconds behind me.  She just blew past me as though I had been standing still, and there was nothing I could do about it.

I clicked into an easier gear and hoped that would help my legs to move faster, but the wind was gusting all around, and no matter what, I just couldn't keep my speed up at the 35km/hr mark; I kept dipping below it.

Then another woman passed me.

But this time, I could keep her in my sights.  I let her get the regulated 2 bike lengths ahead of me, and then I just matched my leg speed to hers and kept her just in my line of vision.  She passed other riders as we neared the final 3kms, and I also passed them.  I saw her storm past the finish line, and I passed two other riders before crossing the line myself.

Yahoo Day!

I was tired, disappointed, and still feeling a little unsettled in my tummy.

But when the times were posted, I came in first in my age category with a 26:11 time.  Last week, I came in 9th and was thrilled with my first-ever 15km time trial experience; this week I came in 8th but I felt a little bit disappointed in my overall experience.

With the wind, the chocolate and the champagne, my speed this week was 34.37km/hr and last week it was 34.97km/hr.

So in case you were wondering...drinking booze before competing in a race doesn't actually make you faster!

Over and out,
Joy

First 15km Time Trial: My Inner Lance Armstrong

Joy here...Last week was my final 10km Time Trial of the Ottawa Bicycle Club's annual women-only Time Trial series that runs from May to August.  This week the distance jumps from the manageable 10kms to a frightening 15kms.

Now that might not sound like much of a jump, but, trust me, it is.

At the 10km Time Trial distance, I can be riding, giving my all, feeling like I'm going to puke, but then I can look down and see that I've completed 8kms, and will myself onwards to the final 2kms.  But now for the 15km Time Trial distance, I will be riding, giving my all, feeling like I'm going to puke, and then I will look down and see that I've completed 8kms, and I will want to die, because I'll only be halfway through!  

So as we drove to the new starting line for the longer distance, I was feeling a little apprehensive.  I didn't really ride last week (only Tuesday's 10km Time Trial and then Sunday's ride in the park with the bear), and so I was feeling a bit lazy and out of shape on top of being nervous about the demands of the new distance.

But as I started warming up on my stationary trainer, I began to feel better and better.  I decided that I would just ride this Time Trial like Lance.

What I look like in my head.

Lance Armstrong - 7 time Tour de France winner - at age 40 has just taken up professional triathlons again (he used to be a triathlete in his teens).  He did his first-ever half ironman triathlon in February and placed 2nd.  He's been in the top 10 in the following 4 half ironmans that he's competed in, winning 2 of them.  And how does he win?  He uses his strength on the bike and just powers away from the rest of the field, forcing them to chase him for the final leg of the event - a half marathon finish after riding the bike for 90kms - and for both the Florida and Hawaii events, no one was able to catch him!

So as I rolled my bike over to the start line to get ready with the rest of the women, I just wanted to be like Lance - high cadence, full confidence, impressive results - and didn't let my nervousness about the new 15km distance overwhelm me.

Out there on the course, I got a wobbly start, and then my computer didn't kick in right away, so I knew that my time and my distance would be slightly off, so I couldn't really count on reliable data from my computer.  All I could do was ride by feel - keeping my breathing rhythmic and trying my hardest to keep my legs spinning fast.  I would check my power every now and then to make sure I was riding at around 200watts and that my speed was somewhere in the neighbourhood of 35km/hr.

Me warming up.

I shouted "on your left" each time I had to pass some unsuspecting commuting cyclist out on the course (and, of course, without fail each time I passed a guy, he would try to speed up and race me...can you say fragile male ego???).  And if I was passing someone who was competing in the Time Trial - like this amazing 80 year old who competes each week - I would shout encouragement:  "we're almost done!" and usually give a thumbs-up.  You never know when someone needs just that tiny bit of a boost to keep on going.

As I tore through the finish-line with no idea of my average speed or time because of my little computer mishap off the starting line, I had no idea how I did.  I cooled down amongst the other riders, and when one of the women asked "how did it go?" all I could say was, "15 is much harder than 10!" to which she heartily agreed.

Then we gathered around the time keepers to find out how we did, and I'm happy to report that I finished within the top 10 of my first-ever 15km time trial.  My average speed was 34.97km/hr, and I averaged just under 200watts for the whole duration.  I finished in 25:44...next week let's hope I can get closer to 25 minutes flat.

Or even break 25 minutes.

That's what Lance would do.

Over and out,
Joy

Third Time Trial: The Suitcase of Courage

Joy here...This afternoon the skies opened up, and we were treated to one heck of a thunderstorm - lighting, thunder, pouring rain - but then it all cleared up, and the skies turned blue just in time for this week's time trial.

Phil and Paul

Now let's back up to 2007 when The Man and I were first dating.  He was (and still is) a big cycling fan, and I figured, "okay, if I'm gonna date this guy, I might as well try to learn a thing or two about cycling" (a sport that I knew nothing about; I kinda thought that bike racing was just about pedalling faster or slower, and I sure didn't know that it was a team sport. I mean, there's only one guy on a bike at a time, right?).  So we sat down one weekend and went through his cycling DVDs...all 28 hours worth of 7 Tours de France in which Lance Armstrong was the overall victor.  And slowly but surely, in that weekend's crash course on cycling, I learned a thing or two, and I began to appreciate the sport.  I still didn't ride a bike (or even own one), but at least I understood the sport (in theory).

Getting the engine started (note:  I'm wearing pink in
honour of Ryder Hesjedal's monumental Giro win!)

And I can say, without a shadow of a doubt, that I wouldn't have been able to get into the sport, understand the sport, or even watch more than 5 minutes of it had it not been for the amazing commentary of Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen, or "Phil and Paul" as they're known affectionately in our house.

One of Paul's favourite phrases as he tries hard to express the kind of suffering that a rider is experiencing on the bike is that the rider is "digging deep into the suitcase of courage."

Let me tell you...this afternoon I finally learned what that phrase actually means.

Because of the thundershowers, the day was inordinately humid, and as the sun began to shine in the late afternoon, mist began to rise off the asphalt parking lot where I was warming up for the Time Trial.  I was sweating and feeling like I was back in Malaysia.  I've written before about my pet theory about how it's harder to breathe and be powerful on the bike when the air is thick and humid, and I definitely think that was the case today.

Waiting at the start line to go!

I lined up at the start line, and as the volunteers let go of my bike and I headed out for my last 10km TT (next week we are being bumped up to 15kms), I just couldn't get a good rhythm going.  I felt that I wasn't breathing well, and while I tried to keep my cadence high (turning my pedals faster), every pedal stroke seemed to be a suffer fest.

As this is our last week racing 10kms, and my first time was 17:51 and my second time was 17:13, all I wanted to do this week was break into the 16 minute mark.

As I turned around and started racing hell for leather back for the final 5kms, I told myself to forget about high cadence and breathing, and just pedal my little heart out, and that's what I did.  At the 8km mark, I just clicked my bike into a harder gear (you know how I like the "big ring," hence my nickname), put my head down, and pedalled as hard as I possibly could.  I was digging deep into that suitcase of courage.

I didn't see the finish line.

I didn't see my time.

I didn't even see The Man cheering me on.

I was dead tired, cross-eyed, and utterly spent.  So I noodled along the road until my eyes and legs worked again and I stopped huffing and puffing, and then I turned around and rode my bike back to the car to await the final times.

And guess what?  I placed 3rd overall in the Time Trial and had an average speed of 35.53km/hr, with a final time of 16:59!  Since I made it under 17 minutes...I guess all that digging into the suitcase of courage paid off.

Over and out,
Joy

Second Time Trial: The Pros Came out to Race!

Me warming up on my trainer before
the time trial. (Don't worry, mom, I put
on a helmet when I was actually on the road!)

Joy here...Under a grey sky and a light shower sprinkling rain drops on my sunglasses, I headed out for my second-ever time trial.  But this time, a couple of heavy-hitters showed up to ride as well.  Pro bike racers Tricia Spooner (last year's Ontario Women's Time Trial bronze medallist) and Sophie Matte (featured in a news media write-up as last summer's winner of this series) from the Stevens Cyclery women's team arrived looking weathered, strong, scary, and confident.  Perhaps it's no surprise that they took spots #1 and #2 of this little weekly, Tuesday night women's time trial series!

What is a bit of a surprise is that yours truly jumped from 3rd place in her age category last week to 1st place this week!

20 women showed up in the light rain showers to ride, and I came in 6th overall...and, I mean, if you don't count those pros taking the top two spots, really I came in 4th overall...but that's getting a little bit crazy on technicalities, so I'll enjoy my 6th place.

The funny thing is:  I don't have a time trial bike; I don't have fancy time trialling equipment like an aero helmet or skin suit; I don't actually know exactly how and when I should be changing gears on my bike; and I still don't really know how to stand and pedal.  So I figure that once I get some of the picky details of just how to ride a bike under my belt, I'll just get better and better, which goes a long way to making this little weekly endeavour really fun.  It sort of feels like the sky's the limit, if you know what I mean.

Me at the start line in the rain!

Overall it took me 17:13 to finish 10km (vs 17:51 last week), and my average speed was 34.85km/hr (vs 33.61km/hr last week).  I'm not sure if I'll be able to improve by 40 seconds each week, as that's a pretty big improvement, but I'm just happy that I seem to be moving in the right direction.

Next Tuesday is the final 10km time trial...and then it'll be 15km ones...and who knows how I'll do at that?

Over and out,
Joy

Gatineau Medio Fondo: First Bunch Ride Sportif

Joy here...This morning we got up bright and early under a blue sky with a blazing sun, temperatures already nearing 20C by 7am, but instead of riding out to Gatineau Park as usual to ride with my friends (like last week, or the week before, or the week before that, and so on...), I headed over to the starting point of a local Gran Fondo event.

You see, this weekend there are a number of professional bike races taking place in Gatineau, including some of the Olympic qualifying races for the female cyclists.  And in keeping with holding events for amateur cyclists for fun in conjunction with these professional races, the race organizers set up two Gran Fondo events--a 102km gran fondo double loop of the park and a 51km medio fondo single loop of the park--for regular folks to take part in.

click on this picture to see a bigger size and a sense for the elevation etc.

My plan was to just ride this route at my own pace, not getting caught up in the race atmosphere or anything like that, but just doing it for fun.  The organizers have this to say about the two events (gran and medio fondos): "Although not a competition, these events are timed to allow those interested to measure their personal results."  I figured I'd do just that:  measure my results, but take it easy.  Power Penna's husband countered that approach by emailing me this:  "it's a timed event, you should go full out."  Right after I read that, I got an email from the Spinning Instructor who wrote:  "Think about givin' it ... no point in going and not trying to go all out."  And Superdave had this to say:  "When the music starts, you gotta dance!"

  

All ready to go!

So with my friends all squarely in my corner urging me to see what I could do by trying a little, I figured that I would ride by feel, not trying to keep up with anyone and everyone out there, but making a point of pushing myself to my limits.  Who knows what my "all out" even is?  

I got my race number and chip, rolled my bike over to the start line, gathered around all the other starters for the shorter, medio fondo, and hoped that I wouldn't wobble over and take anyone out before the event even got underway!

Then we started out in a big pack of riders, riding along in almost two single file rows.  I got close up behind a guy who looked sturdy and steady on his bike, and just timed myself to his pedal stroke and let myself be carried along in the bunch, not really pushing myself yet, and when I turned around, I was surprised to see a line of people behind my wheel!  

We were averaging around 35km/hr, and I was feeling good, like I was flying over the asphalt beneath a crystalline sky above.

But then we hit the first incline.

The blue skies at the start line.

And I could no longer stay close to that guy's wheel.  In fact, the whole group of us that started out together began to splinter pretty radically at that point, and that was probably only about 12kms into the whole 52km route!  From that point on, it was pretty much every man/woman for him/herself!

So I just got myself comfortable on my bike and settled in for a long, hot, sweaty ride.  The sun was getting hotter and hotter as temperatures reached 30C, and my lower back began to scream with pain as I began the long, slow climb up to Champlain Lookout.  On the first Sunday in April, my friends and I took this route up to the lookout, but today as I rode, it seemed never ending.  With the pain in my lower back, I was afraid that I wasn't getting full power in my legs, and with every other person with a number on their bike passing me, I began to feel deflated.  And just as I was feeling really low, like I was the worst cyclist out there, probably coming in last place, and a total waste of space, I saw Superdave and The Man on their ride coming towards me.  That was just the lift I needed!  I got a big smile and wave from The Man, and that was all I needed to get me up to the Champlain Lookout where I stopped for a moment, ate a banana and a GU and drank some of my water before beginning the rip-roaring descent downwards and over the rolling terrain to the finish line...around 20kms away.

My bike computer at the end...average pace = 29.2km/hr.

On the downhill, my back hurt a little less (I thank the banana), and I was able to chase down a number of other riders in the event, with a few of us riding together for a while.  I even passed Cili Padi and The Professor (in their awesome summer Rapha jerseys) out for their Sunday ride.

Finally as I turned onto the finishing straight, I just put myself down on my handlebars like I did during my time trial on Tuesday, put myself in the big ring (as per my oh-so-apt nick name), and started riding at around 45km/hr towards the finish.  As I passed a guy along the way, I shouted:  "C'mon, we're almost done!"  And he sped up and followed me.  As we crossed the finish line to the sounds of cheers and clapping, he rode over to me and said, "thanks, that exactly what I needed right there at the end."

It would seem that my "all out" on a hot, sunny Sunday morning had me finishing 52kms over hilly terrain in 1:52 with an average speed of 29km/hr and a maximum speed of 67km/hr.  I ended up finishing 47th out of 104 competitors--7th out of 26 women and 4th out of 11 women my age.  So it turns out that my "all out" isn't too shabby after all!

Over and out,
Joy

First Bike Race Ever!

Joy here...This blog began on the heels of Nomi and I finishing our first-ever running race.  That was a 10km running race that took place as the sun set on the airport roads in Singapore at the end of May 2010.

Fast forward two years, and it's now May 2012.

I just completed another first.

Snacking on a mint chocolate GU to fuel up before
the start of the time trial!
(See our "favourite things" post for more on sport foods!)

This time it was my first-ever bike race.  It was a 10km time trial.

In May 2010, I finished that 10km running race in 54:48 and was happy to have finished in under 60 minutes, which was my target.  Tonight, I finished a 10km time trial in 17:51 and was happy to have finished in under 18 minutes, which was my target.

Time trialling is a particular kind of bike race where each rider races the clock.  She starts alone, and the next rider starts 30 seconds after her, and the next another 30 seconds later, and the next another 30 seconds later and so on down the ranks.  So you're just out there on the road riding by yourself, looking at your own watch and hoping that no one from behind you is going so fast that she tears through that 30 second head-start you have on her to pass you.  Once everyone has finished the course, the race organizers can tally everyone's results and come up with a ranking.

Me, fourth in line, waiting my turn to start!

There's a local women's time trial series run here in Ottawa out at the Aviation museum (where I've ridden before a few times this season, like this Saturday ride where I practiced going really hard, or when I rode with the Trainer and Professor and another friend and had to battle the winds and a blown tire, or that time when "gym guy" wouldn't let me use the bathroom, or when Cili Padi and I rode for our first outdoor ride of the season back in March).  Since I figured I'm sort of familiar with the road, there'd be no harm in heading out there to try my hand (or feet and legs) at time trialling.

I figured that so long as I didn't come in dead last, I'd be fine.  There are a lot of fit and talented cyclists in this town, so I just didn't want to embarrass myself.

Me just getting started...

The race organizers lined us up in the order of where we figured we would finish, slowest to fastest.  So we gathered together at the side of the road in the proper order, and then each cyclist would get up to the start line, and a volunteer would hold the back of her bike so that she could clip both feet into the pedals (usually if both feet are clipped in, you have to be moving, otherwise you'll just fall over...trust me, I've fallen plenty of times).  As the volunteer counts down from 5 seconds, the rider gets ready to start, and then when the countdown reaches 0 the volunteer holding the bike gives the cyclists a kind of push (ever-so-slight) and off she goes!

I had never experienced this kind of start before, so I was just happy that I didn't fall over into the ditch as soon as the guy let me go!

To compensate, I started pedalling really fast, and before I knew it, I looked down at my computer, and I was riding at 36km/hr.  I knew I couldn't hold that pace for the full 10kms without getting really tired or exploding my legs (both figuratively and literally), so I slowed down to about 33km/hr and tried to hold that.  I could hear my legs pushing--whoomp, whoomp, whoomp--as I willed myself forward.  The road is deceptive.  It looks relatively flat, but it is NOT.  It inclines upwards ever so slightly for quite a while, and then just when I was thinking that I couldn't take it any more, I reached a stretch where there were some wicked winds tearing across these open fields and into me, making each pedal stroke that much harder.  It was like pedalling through molasses...molasses with screaming legs.

Me storming over the finish line.

And then, I was at the turn-around point.  I had to watch for traffic, because the road isn't closed and we just ride on the paved shoulder, the turn-around point can be rather dangerous, because you have to shoulder check and also hope no one's coming from the front, so I slowed down quite a bit and did the turn kind of awkwardly, but then I picked up the pace and went over 40km/hr for a while before the wind picked up again and my legs told me to slow down a bit.  So I just kept my breathing steady and tried to keep my legs steady as they turned over, and then, before I knew it, I was only 300m from the finish line and I pedalled as fast as my little legs could carry me...zooming past the finishing line and shouting out my number so that the time keepers could match my time up with my identity.

In the end, it was a super fun race experience, and when the results were posted, I was happy to find out how I did:

Out of 29 competitors, I came in 14th, and in my category (female age 30-35), I came in 3rd!

Woo hoo! I didn't come in dead last!

Over and out,
Joy

PS-I couldn't have had this amazingly fun race adventure without the help of The Man who came with me (and took the pics), cheered me on, held my food, and was the one who told me to aim for around 18 minutes in the first place.  He also told me how to ride a time trial, so that when I started off a little fast, it was his voice I heard in my head telling me to ride smart and conserve energy.  Just a little shout out to The Man...well deserved! :)