By the time I got to Woodstock...

I just got home from a three day Mike Fraysse training camp. It was excellent and a great way to find out where I stand and to get to know and share notes with my new teammates.

Friday started with meeting and a lecture and dinner and a Halloween walk of terror done by a professional group(I wasn't scared...really). It was a ton of fun.

Saturday was a washout for outdoor riding but we worked on some power testing(my numbers made me happy) and pro fit adjustments(mine was the only bike that needed no adjustment- fit by Rob at Pedal Sports). Then we got history, training, coaching and nutrition lectures as well as a bunch of stories that had our sides aching from laughter. After dinner we were treated to a real ghost tour of the 28 room mansion we were guests in that was built in 1907 for an heir of the Singer company.

Sunday, we had a perfect day for an all-out hard ride up to Woodstock at Bethel Woods, the site of the legendary event. The hills were just relentless. I made the mistake of eating a light breakfast before riding since it was the only meal to be available until the planned late lunch. Well, I got sick three times on the way out and once on the way back. It just proved again that I just don't tolerate solids if I'm going to put in any kind of effort. Though I still rode well, it really taxes your body to ride while your stomach is wretching and pieces of breakfast are stuck in your throat and you're climbing a hill and can't drink because the man who has coached many, many olympic medalists is lurking behind you watching your every move and you want to look as smooth and clean and accomplished as possible while willing your sorry ass up one mother of a climb. I did hope he realized that one of those times when I spit to the side it was really not spit and that I never missed a stroke while I puked over my shoulder.

So, in the final critiquing session, he went around the room pointing out the girl who didn't put her heels down, the guys whose knees pointed out when they were getting tired, the people who had poor form, boxy strokes etc.. I asked him what I needed to dial in and he said, "Other than what we talked about before(loose weight), nothing." Then, the guy who has coached multitudes of champion cyclists said he was 'absolutely impressed' with me. I'd like to think that he was impressed because he knew I had champion potential, but I know he was simply impressed that I didn't drop dead on my way back in.

Anyway, if you ever get the opportunity, go. The man is a gold mine of information, an amazingly skilled coach and a warm, inviting and good humored guy. I recommend him highly and can't wait for the chance to go again and prove him right.

http://mftrainingcamps.blogspot.com

Another story? Oh, goodie!! I love stories.


Did I ever tell you how I got my dog?
First, I'll tell you about Roxie, our family dog. She was maybe 3 1/2 when we adopted her from PAWS in Montclair. She was a run-away Border Collie, found on the street. Nobody came looking for her. Her previous owner must not have wanted her back and we found out why.

Roxie was no prize possession in the beginning. She loved to run and each time she got an inch she bolted out the door. She loved to be chased but chasing her wore thin quickly. She was also aggressive. Once while walking her down the street, she lunged towards dogs locked behind a fence, entangling my fingers in the leash and snapping three of them back. I swore she broke the tips of two. I yanked her back and she came snarling and snapping at me. Bad move. I grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and shoved her down on her side in the middle of the street. As my fingers floated between throbbing and numb, my other hand clenched her fur and twisted it and pressed into her throat. Spitting venom through my teeth, I told her I would kill her if she ever did anything like that again. I think she knew I was dead serious.

I had some thinking to do. I didn't really want to give up on her but we expected a baby within a month and had a 4 1/2 yr old at home. Did I want to chance it with an unpredictable dog? NO WAY!! I called PAWS to discuss returning her. The staff fully understood my problem and would take her back but asked if I would keep her a little longer since they were dealing with an outbreak of Parvo. I agreed, as sending her back could be a death sentence.

Roxie knew she was three paws out the door and seriously changed her ways. She became a devoted, loving, smart, active friend and family member that we all adored until she died in my arms of congestive heart failure at the young age of 13. Losing her simply ripped our hearts out.

SO what does that have to do with biking? Everything.

The Saturday before Thanksgiving, I went for our usual shop ride. It was so cold that only five of us were stupid enough to be out there. I think it was 13 degrees before the wind chill factor was added in. Why do you go out on such a day? To get some exercise is the excuse, but it's really just to hang out with some soul mates for a while.

We started out and hoped to warm up. At mile 5 the first guy broke off and headed back to get ready for work. It wasn't any warmer. At mile ten, I told the guys not to wait for me on the hill. I was so cold, I was heading back at the split. The ride back was brutal. Scary even. My heart rate was ridiculously low and I felt like I was fighting hypothermia. I fought to keep going, to keep my blood moving but it felt like I was trying to pedal through freshly poured concrete. Finally back at the shop, I decided to wait for the rest of the guys to see that they were OK. I sat in the car for all of five minutes when I couldn't stand it anymore and went into the only open store in the lot.

I stood looking out the glass storefront of the pet feed store, waiting for the guys and slowly thawing out. One of the ladies looked me up and down. Thin tights, a lightweight jacket, light gloves and covers over my shoes. She asked, "What kind of shoes are they?". I looked ridiculous. I told her I was waiting for friends and talked a bit about our ride that morning. She asked if I had been in that store before. I told her I used to buy my food there for my dog that had died 5 weeks ago. She asked what kind of dog and I told her, a Border Collie. Then she looked pointedly at me and said, "You may be here for more than warming your feet." She turned then walked behind the counter and pulled a paper off the wall. "This woman came in the night before last. They need a home for this Border Collie puppy. I think this dog is meant for you."

I wasn't over Roxie. The wound from losing her was still fresh and burning, but this photo... I said to myself, "This is not the right time, but I think this might be the right dog. There was something about the photo that said he was perfect.

I called the number and fought back tears as I told the woman we were interested in the dog. Their family met mine and decided we were the right family for the puppy and we brought him home the day before Thanksgiving.

We kept his name, Eli, and he has been the greatest gift to our family. The easiest pup, the smartest dog. Great with every one in our family. It really was meant to be. And it happened because I rode my bike on a way too cold day... If it can make that much of an impact on my family, imagine what riding might do for you!

It's been way too long since I last posted. So much has happened. Yes, I am still riding, even more dedicated than ever.
I have been reminded by a friend that I've been ignoring this site(Thanks, Chris!) so here you go...

Posted with my biking chat group:

August 11, 2009
Inspired by Utah Joe's excellent adventure and dreading a long, hot, slow car ride with bickering children, I asked for and got permission to ride my bike to LBI this coming weekend. I'll probably build Utah's route into mine and add on what I need before and after. Right now, I'm looking at 125 miles before I take the highways out. This just might hurt.

The downside is the bike. My Roubaix Pro, the bike that would make this ride almost comfortable, is being warranty replaced when the 2010's come in... probably in November. It's not broken yet, but shows signs of galenic corrosion at the seatstay bonding. Besides a gentle 20 miler today, I haven't been on it in over a month and have been riding a not so friendly Fuji Roubaix. Do I chance disaster on the bike I adore, or ride one that doesn't fit me perfectly?

SO, now that I've been silly enough to post this, I am obligated to complete this mission. Any pointers on routes? Anyone want to jump in for all or part of the tour?
__________________

August 12, 2009
Yep, I rode 286 miles last summer on the hottest, nastiest days of the year. No day was more than 100 miles and it certainly had more hills than I expect in the lower half of the state. I did learn a hell of a lot on that ride. Critical were hydrating and cooling and I was none too proud to stand in any available water sprinkler along the route, pour water over my head through my helmet or stuff it with ice cubes. I'll be sure to do the same things as needed on this ride.

As for distance, I think 112 was my longest ever but I think if I play it smart and don't try to come in at 18 mph, I'll be fine. It will work better for me to go the distance and get picked up if I need rather than starting half way and being forced to finish. We've got 5 cars heading to the beach house, so that might work it's way into being my very own support team. In fact, I think I'll just make it into one. That in itself might add a sense of mental security that could pull me through.

The bike.
If I had my bike, I'd do it in a heartbeat. This bike, I'm going to go talk to Rob and see what we can do to make it better. I've not been fitted to the Fuji, but eyeballed seat position and height when I first started riding it. When we took measurements, Rob was surprised how close I came to the fit of my Roubaix just by feel. I mean really close.

The bars stink on this bike. I just re-wrapped them with bar phat and it's made a huge difference, but my hands still go numb way too quickly. The specialized bars have more of a flat and super cushy surface that doesn't concentrate the pressure in a tiny area. Switching the bars over would help a ton but would be a big job considering I just did these and I put new cables on too.

Tires.
I'm bound to be riding sketchy areas. Should I leave the $60 mondo tires on, get a new set of armadillo or grab a set of $20 cheep-o's?

Bike nutrition?
Well, you'd think I'd have that down, but what conventional wisdom says and how my body works are two completely different things. I tend to get sick on anything that isn't quickly digested. PB&J's, power bars and Cliff stuff are just bad news for me and even bananas mid ride are iffy. Oranges, melon and gel is okay. I make my own gel with a protein powder base and blue agave syrup for carbs. On paper, it packs the nutrition of a full day with low GI which I really need. On the calorie side, it's not going to come close to my 'daily needs' before burning an extra 6 or 7 thousand in a day. But that's just how it is. Gatorade and high calorie drinks don't stay down. Salted water with lemon juice is just fine as is emergen-c, so I'll have plenty of that on hand. Hammer Endurolytes are a life saver and I'll stop often for water to avoid dehydration. If I'm lucky, I may manage to loose an ounce or two.

So, I'll iron out the details and get this thing into a reality. Heck, if it beats the crap out of me, I'll have the next week to recover at an oceanfront beach house. I could think of worse things.
__________________
August 13, 2009
Wow! Joe was NOT kidding when he said that mapping was a real chore.

I finally have it. Staying nearly straight down the center of the state and avoiding main roads, it looks like 123 miles. A hell of a lot nicer than I had expected. I built onto Utah's map on both ends and made a few adjustments. I checked with the Fort Dix police to be sure the roads I chose through their complex were not subject to firing at intruders on first sight.

I think the worst area will be route 72 through Manahawkin and if it's too crazy, I'll call for a pick up.

http://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&sour...5&ie=UTF8&z=14

I hope this link works. I'd love feedback. Gotta go print it out.
__________________
August 14, 2009
Nearly packed, 7am I roll. I'll be on the same course as the shop ride for the first 10 miles so if I'm a tad late I may decide to ride with the boys for a while. That would be a nice send-off.

So wish me luck and do say hello if I ride through your neighborhood.
I'll let you know how it works out.
__________________
August 15,2009
I am writing this while laying on a blow up mattress on the porch of an oceanfront beach house in LBI and listening to the waves rolling in.

I mostly want to say... THANK GOD FOR BEER!!
more later

__________________
August 16, 2009
Chris’ report.

I was going to do this thing alone, self-sufficient. I had it all mapped out, all planned. I had a game plan for any emergencies. I would call Chris only if I needed him and I wasn’t going to need him. So, my husband decided to ignore my wishes and drive my route. He took the Parkway to New Brunswick and started there. It was a good thing.

There were streets that didn’t have signs, roads that didn’t exist and detours that had to be made from my planned route. When I finally found it, Hoes Lane was completely closed, but Mitchell was a nice alternate. They had a bunch of trouble with the Ryder/George interchange but I sailed through. Further on were more issues. Having a 705 with a GPS would have helped but there were some things even a 705 would not have saved me from.

My family spent a lot of time calling me and as much of a PITA that was, I couldn’t have made it without them. My kids found it to be an adventure. Matt was a co-pilot and Shannon was an extra set of eyes, playing their own version of “Where’s Waldo?”. On George, they stopped at a Wendy’s for lunch and I met them there. The look on the kids’ faces was priceless. They were so proud and amazed. My son took my 4 water bottles into Wendy’s and had them refilled. My daughter ran to hug me and just as quickly changed her mind. Mom, you’re all sweaty. My son couldn’t care less and grabbed me for the soggiest, smelliest hug he ever had. I grabbed an apricot and half a bagel from the car and listened to Shannon's description of a Frosty smoothie.

Many calls later and much further down the route, past Great Adventure, Chris turned onto Lake Road, following my course. Lake started out fine then got a little coating of sand on it, then got a little soft, then where the road dipped a little bit, my car loaded with half the contents of my house, got stuck in the sand that covered the road.

Trying to get out, they rolled and spun. The kids tried to push. They managed to bury the car above the chassis. The kids tried to put the car mats under the tires for traction as they remembered that was how I got my car out of 6” of mud at a music festival last year. No luck. Matt started pulling sticks and things out of the woods and tried to shove them under the wheels. Nothing worked. Chris had the cell phone in one hand and his wallet in the other going for the AAA card when a guy in a Jeep on a bypass road above them stopped and yelled down to my family.

He came back around and hooked up to my van and said theirs wasn’t the first car he had pulled from that spot. In fact there were bumpers and pieces of trim scattered across this area from previous victims of ‘the car pit’. The guy explained that it is a treacherous area and people take it because it saves 5 miles from the alternate. Chris backed up until it was solid before turning around on the road.

For the next 30 miles, each time they hit a bump the sand released from the car and splattered in the wheel wells. They all found this hysterical as they laughed their way through the rest of the ride. It certainly made day one of our vacation an adventure for them and one trip they’ll never forget.

My report later.

__________________
August 17, 2009
The Ride
I got screwed up a couple times by the “turn slight left on” roads by Google. My first run off course was less than a mile beyond our shop loop. That cost the first 15 minutes of down time. I missed a road in East Hanover and was directed back by a walker. The next place was in Morristown at Meyersville Rd. My map showed that Meyersville cut through the swamp, changed names a couple times and then turned back into the long, straight road that’s so adored by the roadies. I had half a notion that it didn’t really. So, when I came up to the “No outlet” sign, I didn’t venture further. Instead, I turned around and caught up with a couple of riders and asked how to get to Meyersville Rd. They sent me up to Pleasantville, which led me out.

A couple of missteps past Warren got me side tracked and asking for directions again to get into Washington Rock. I paused at the rock and took a couple steps. Tap, click, tap, click… hmmmm… click, click, click. Crap! Something is up with my shoe. Sitting on a picnic table I took off the shoe to find the cleat dangerously loose. The under-screw, the one that holds the cleat to the sole was nearly falling out and one outer screw missing. This would have been a really bad situation if I hadn’t noticed.

I pulled out the multi-tool I don’t even bother bringing with me on local rides. I’m glad I brought it today. No Phillips. I can’t pull off the top plate to do it right, so I tighten the under screw as best as I can. I called home to tell Matt to put the bag with spare cleat parts into the van. I have some home-made gel and use the environmental perma-potty on the top of the hill. These things are great! They self compost and had almost no odor. On top of that, they have a lovely built in fan that is so refreshing and is something of a blow drier for one’s bottom. You must try it some time.

Down from the rock, I miss a turn. I never actually noticed one and I come to a T-intersection where none of the roads equate to my cue. Maybe this is another of the Googleisms and I’ll catch back up to the right road, but which way? The choices, climb back up Washington Rock to see where I screwed up? NOT! Go left, up an incline to the unknown or head downhill to the right since I know this is the last of the hills and hope it’s not a mistake. I take the path of least resistance, the downhill. I swoop down into a town and business district, scanning for a place to refill my water bottles and see Warrensville True Value across the way. Bingo!

I roll to the door. A customer coming out sees me and holds it open fo me and my bike. I walk right in and rest my ride against the nearest display. I take my shoe off and ask the clerk if I can borrow a screwdriver and where I could buy a single screw… (Phillips head, that is). She says, “Aisle three, use any one you like and the screws are at the end of the aisle.” I grab a driver then stare dumbly at the wall with thousands of screws in drawers. Another clerk helps me locate a screw with a close enough threading, length and head. They were amazingly nice and very accommodating and I bought only one 13 cent screw. The girl at the register offered to keep my bike there while I filled my bottles at Krauser’s next door. Mistake. Krausers was NASTY and didn’t even have water in the very old soda dispenser. Back to the hardware store, they insisted I use their water cooler to fill my four bottles. I used the nice clean bathroom and they gave me directions to get me back on course too. They couldn’t save me from having to re-climb that hill but it wasn’t as nasty as I had expected. Should you ever be near Warrenville hardware, please support them, we need places like that not to be gobbled up by conglomerates.

On to New Brunswick. Your comments really helped me navigate through some iffy sections and made it so much nicer. I did miss a sign for Old New Brunswick rd and hit New Brunswick rd. There, a woman raking her yard navigated me halfway back and a woman who overheard my asking a clueless gas attendant, got me the rest of the way back off a very busy road and into the Hoes lane vicinity.

After meeting my family, I crossed the parkway and screeched to a halt halfway across the overpass. Southbound consisted of three lanes of absolutely stopped traffic and two lanes at a snails pace. I took a picture and laughed like a loon. It’s freakin hot out here but I’d rather be riding than trade places with any of you!


After that things got quieter and more rural. Some of the roads seemed to go on forever. There was the perfectly placed Perrinville park port-a potty that came in handy. Later was a fruit stand where I stopped and bought 2 of the most delicious peaches(fresh picked that morning) that I had ever had.


I stopped at Walter’s recommended Wawa and stretched in the grass while I chatted with a cop in a patrol car. I filled my bottles inside and realized my cleat was loose again. There was a group of bikers there and I in my kit asked them in their tattoos if they had a Phillips head I could borrow. One of the biker chicks said, “Sure!” got up and got me hers from her sweet Harley. We chatted as I tightened my screws once again. She said she wanted to do more pedaling herself and of course, I encouraged her. She was at mile 150 for the day, I was at about 120. The Wawa was at Lacey rd. and pretty close to Lake Rd, which Chris got towed off of. I made my final mistake of the day on Lacey when the road made a right at an intersection and I went straight headed for rte 9.

30 miles from my destination, I ran out of daylight. Chris and Matt picked me up. I didn’t fail, I was thwarted by the heat, by directions, by equipment issues and by the shortening day. I rode 20 miles more than I needed to because of mistakes and missing signs. I persevered through unbearable heat that found me seriously struggling to pedal at 12 mph, I talked with a bunch of people all the way through the state and I toured some really great roads.

The places I was warned were treacherous were really not bad since I had a heads up. And in 120 miles traversing the sate I encountered:
One left turn in front of me. Not a close call because I saw it coming but I had to brake. Gave them the ‘WTF was that’ gesture. One yee haw(not to offend the yahoos) who just had to lay on his horn and zip around me to make a right onto a highway entrance ramp and 2 cars that passed just too close. Other than that, I had 120 miles of courteous, considerate drivers. Was it because I traveled with intention and took my share of the road? Who knows. I thought of those who won’t ride for fear of traffic. You’re missing out on some good stuff. Skill up and get out there.

The Zones
I’ll figure out what it all means later but I could feel myself recovering at 158bpm. My breathing was deeper and easier and I felt I could keep it there indefinitely. At 162 I didn’t want to keep the pace for long. My max was 179 and I don’t think I ever went anaerobic. If I did I certainly kept it brief as going the distance was the goal here, not killing myself. Garmin said my average HR was 143. I think it was much higher since I forgot to turn it off at those long stops. Also, I registered under 50 for the first hour until the sweat made the sensors pick up better.

The Performance
Well it could have been faster. The heat took its toll on me earlier on. I was humbled and beaten by noon. I kept on. The stop and go, the wrong turns, the phone calls and the pesty things were too many and really broke my rhythm. Once out, it took a while to get back into the zone. I had easy stretches for long times where I was rolling at 24 mph and climbing 3-5% grades then stretches where 13 in the flats took everything I had. It almost seemed to come in cycles. There were one or two times I considered making the pick up call, but not for more than a few seconds. In fact when they said they were on their way back for me I said, “I’m not done yet.” When the sun dipped below the trees and it got noticeably cooler, I was refreshed and ready for more. When it was nearly dark at 8:20, I was satisfied. There was nothing more to be done here. 7:40 am – 8:20 pm 12 1/2 hours. 128 miles. A minimum of 4 hours of very broken down time. I think of JDogs signature, ”We may not be good, but we’re slow.” No matter how you slice it, it was a hell of a day’s work.

The Bike
I couldn’t talk abut it before I did it, but after careful consideration of the options and consultation with Rob and Tony, I chose to take the Roubaix Pro. The bike may be corroding, it may not be. Specialized isn’t taking the chance. I risked it on the bike and it performed flawlessly. No numb hands. No flats. I wouldn’t have made it to Morristown on the Fuji. That many hours in the saddle, this is one amazing bike. The shorts, well… Thank god for chamois butter!

The Body
Lots of sweat. Prickly chills at one point, raw areas from mean chamois seams. No cramps, no numbness. Slightly sore legs. Not a bad toll considering.

The Food
Pre ride
Whey protein shake with almond milk
½ cup plain oatmeal w/cinnamon

During ride:
1 large apricot
1 blueberry bagel
2 peaches
2 flasks homemade gel
1 rocktaine by GU vanilla/orange - Bleeecccchhh!!!
Most of a pack of cranberry apple GU chomps – not bad at all
I downed ten 24oz bottles of water
Went through 5 packs of emergen-c
8 Hammer Endurolytes tabs

Post ride pig-out
1 apricot
½ slice rye bread
4oz ham
½ tomato sliced
¼ cup Mom’s potato salad
3 oreos
3 beers(a month’s supply)

Would I do it again?
In a heartbeat. But I’d rather do it on a pre-checked course.

What I learned about me,
I can do anything if I'm willing to put forth the effort. It might take a little longer than I'd hoped, but the opportunity is always mine.

__________________
August 18, 2009


The first detour


The traffic I didn't have to sit in.


The Perrineville Rd, Thompson Park Port a Potty


The Farmers market at Perrineville and Federal rds. Peaches picked each morning. The best I ever had. The farmer was very accommodating and insisted on washing them for me. As I was eating them I saw him going beyond the call of duty for each person that came in. As I washed up and prepared to leave, he was getting ready to go pick zuchinni flowers for another customer. Go there too.




Perrineville Rd was one of the nicest on the route. It went from Jamesburg and continued across rte 33 and into Perrinneville changing names a few times. It was fairly straight, reasonably well paved and quiet enough to really experience it. It begged for opening up and that I did. There was also an amazing sweet, slightly floral scent in the air for miles, maybe wild roses? It was also along this road that I spooked a deer(and she spooked me). She jumped and ran on a diagonal and almost into me before curving away. A safe distance away, she stopped and watched as I passed.

Really, Everything south of Jamesburg was relaxed and really good riding. Flat to slightly rolling, if you like the Great swamp, you'll love riding down here.

Oh yea, and that shot by the wildlife mgmt center, I took that to remind myself that it was so quiet there, the air seemed foreign, almost heavy. I heard no cars, no music, no planes, just the occasional chirp or a bird. Stupendous!

Always remember to bring a souvenir for the kiddies.


Alfred E. Newman wasn't a bit worried about the traffic near Great Adventure, but having to move across three lanes of exiting traffic at the Six Flags exit ramp just to go straight, I would have been petrified if I tried to cross it at a busier time.


Don't even thing of peeing in the woods here...



Finally here, slept just four hours and was awake and thirsty. I decided to see the sunrise. The moon was high in the shy and the horizon was just starting to lighten as I walked to the beach.


The first light of the new day.