Wet WET WET!!

The day after riding 100 miles, I headed down to Morgan Hill for the Uvas South-Bay Triathlon. So once again, up at 5 AM. I opened the garage to find that it had started to rain. Wonderful.

It's a sprint tri... 3/4 mile swim, 16 mile bike, 5 mile run. Normally, it would be an opportunity to go as hard as possible... to quote Coach Wayne... "Go til you Blow!" But 100 miles in my legs, and wet roads, I figured this would be a nice slow day.

I saw Dana in the transition area, who asked if I wanted to skip the whole thing and get breakfast. Yes. But I guess I won't. Setting up in the transition area in the rain, I kept thinking "this is silly." My number showed up about 7:10 (somebody picked up my packet the day before). So I guess I had to race. Quick run over to get body marked (#849) and a hurry to pull on the wetsuit.

In true J&A fashion, the race start was a bit disorganized. They had published wave starts which had me starting at 7:40. Suddenly, I was in the 2nd wave, starting at 7:33. So, like everybody else, I'm rushing to the water's edge, trying to get my wetsuit zipped up. I got in the water with a couple minutes to spare... Not enough time to warm up, just enough to get out to the deep-water start line, when the gun goes off.

As the swim started I got into a groove fairly quickly. And each time I breath, I look up - there's Tom, swimming right next to me. I wondered if he saw me... and if he did, if Phil Liggett was running commentary in his head. We swam together around the first corner, and then I guess he passed me, because he was in the transition area when I got there.

After a quick transition (Tom was still there), I headed out on the bike. The first thing I noticed was... wow, my butt hurts from yesterday. I decided pretty early that I wasn't going to push it. In fact, not only would I not push, I'd take it easy and watch all the people go by. I spun easy and enjoyed it. Along the way I saw several Ironteam folks pass me, and a bunch of the Kain folks running the bike course. They're doing CDA too... 5 weeks! 35 days! Wayne blew past me on the back stretch. "Go til you blow!" he screamed. "Too late!" I called back.

I finished the bike in just over an hour, pretty sure that my heartrate never got above 140. Not that I was trying to keep it low - just riding easy. As a comparison, when I do an Ironman, I try to make sure my HR never goes below 140.

The run is always the hardest part of the race. 5 miles is relatively long, usually I've hammered the bike and my legs are gone. I continued my taking-it-easy plan. I ran, I walked, I chatted with folks on the course. I saw all the Ironteamers out there, and cheered them all on. Eventually, I decided I was sick of running, so I picked up the pace to get it over with.

I approached the finish line, and the team was out there cheering me on. I raised my arms, danced a little, and stopped off to chat, but they insisted that I finish the race. So I headed on down to the finish line.

A couple minutes after I finished, I went to pack my stuff up and it started pouring. What J&A lacks in race organization, they make up in food. So had to stick around to eat. I put on my damp clothes and got in line. Pretty decent food. Hung out with the team and caught up with some old friends.

Then, it's back to the car. In the pouring rain. Everything is wet. Time to go home and sleep!

Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road?

Today the team headed up to Santa Rosa to ride on the Vineman Loop. 50ish beautiful miles of rolling hills and vineyards. For the five of us doing Coeur d'Alene, the day called for two loops - 100 miles. Unfortunately, to ride 100 miles, starting in a parking lot 100 miles away, requires getting up around 5 AM.

The ride started uneventfully enough. The team rode as a pack for the first few miles, over the run course, and past the turnoff to the high school. We crested a hill and things started to smell a bit... Cows... everywhere. Big green pasture, littered with cows. It was here that Mike Booth claims to have seen "The tallest cow I've ever seen... It was like 7 feet tall!" I, however, don't remember seeing any Shaq-esque cows.

What I do remember is suddenly there was a cacophony of squawking, and feathers flying everywhere. A cockfight broke out on the side of the road, three or four roosters fighting, and one of them darted out in front of me. I slammed on the brakes, luckily able to stay upright. I narrowly missed him and he continued across the street. For the next few miles I was haunted by visions of flying feathers and what effect my fancy bladed-spoke wheels would have had on the rooster - and vice-versa.

The goal for this ride was to ride it as a Marker Set - ride at your own pace, don't draft, don't wait around too much, ride it like you'd ride it in the race. So, I spent most of the ride by myself... Good mental-toughness training. I'd see a teammate occasionally and we'd chat for a bit. Tom and I seemed to play leap-frog through most of the Alexander Valley. Every time we passed each other I'd hear commentary... in his best Phil Liggett voice: "Here's Wasserman, with his trademark relaxed look... Goff passes and breaks away, and the chase is on..." Apparently this commentary had been running for most of the day. I think Tom even thinks in that accent.

I think this was my 10th and 11th time riding this course, so I know it pretty well. Well, sort of. For several weeks in March, most of Sonoma county was underwater. So when we got to Geyserville, I wasn't too surprised to find that the road was washed out. So after asking "How do we get to 128 without riding on the freeway?" We got an alternate route, basically running down the opposite side of the valley. Amazingly, the distance was almost identical to the original course, but not as pretty.

Chalk hill was uneventful... I spun up the hill trying to read the messages that had been painted there over previous years. One said "Big Sexy says (and I couldn't read the rest." I really wonder who Big Sexy is... and what he/she had to say that was so important to spray paint it on the road. My favorite one from several years back had washed off... It used to read: "Note to self: Next year train harder." A few more miles of potholey roads (remember 23 days of rain in March??) and I was back at the parking lot.

Back in the parking lot I re-filled my four bottles, ate my turkey sandwich, and chatted with the team. Everybody seemed pretty happy with their rides. But I felt like I should be going... I still had another 50 to go. The rest of the CDA crew was chatting, but I took off, knowing they'd catch me soon.

Loop 2: Well, the stop at the parking lot had been long enough to cool down a bit, so starting up again was a challenge. I felt like I'd paced myself pretty well on the first loop, my energy level was good. The clouds never burned off, so it stayed nice and cool. The rest of the pack caught up to me right around the smelly-cow-pasture area. Here we discussed the existance of the Shaq-cow, but he was nowhere to be found. As we rounded the corner, I saw, near the side of the road, a dead rooster. I have no idea if it was the same one... but I guess the chicken crossed the road one too many times.

I rode with the group for another couple miles, but by the time we crossed the river onto Westside road, they had left me. I was back to my mental-toughness ride. I was asked the other day, "What do you think about during a 100 mile ride." My answer involved primarily chatting with other riders and looking at the scenery. Well, that was out. The other riders were gone, and I'd seen the scenery just 3 hours earlier. Not much had changed since then. So, I concentrated on eating every 10 minutes. Concentrated on spinning my feet in circles. Concentrated on why my right foot kept coming out of the pedal... I think I need new cleats.

Soon enough I was on the "new" part of the course, through Alexander Valley, riding into what had become a pretty strong headwind. Ok. Get in aero, keep spinning. Boy, this doesn't feel great - good thing I'm getting that bike-fit soon... too bad it wasn't last week. Spin, eat, drink, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

At the top of chalk hill (still no more insight as to Big Sexy's message), I reached my even-split time. That is, the first loop took me 3:18. On the 2nd loop, at 3:18 I wasn't quite done yet. I wasn't surprised. I had hoped to even-split, but with the extra wind, I figured I'd be a bit later than that.

When I rolled into the parking lot, my 2nd loop ended about 19 minutes longer than my first. I felt fine, though Dana noticed that I had broken out in hives on my neck and legs. In the bathroom I noticed my eye was pretty swollen. I'm allergic to something out there... Whatever it was, the reaction went away by the time I got home.

I did this same ride last year, the same weekend. This year's splits were 3:18 and 3:37. Last year's splits? 3:18, 3:36. Well, at least I'm consistent!