Avoiding Derailments

This is going to be a bit of a "double entendre" post, although the message really is the same for me. With just over 6 weeks left before the Ride to Remember, it's important for me to remember that the goal is not to just "go fast", but I'm preparing for a big effort in an event situation. This means being smart about my training and avoid unneeded injury. At this point I'm not going to make any major jumps in fitness before RtR. I have to listen to my body, and not necessarily push through pain. While Jens Voigt is famously known for the saying "Shut up Legs", I need mine to tell me where I am. Last month I took on a large increase in volume, as part of testing where I was fitness-wise for the Ride to Remember. My time in the saddle, as well as my mileage, ballooned well beyond what I had been doing previously this year. While I'm glad that I was able to complete several challenges, a first for me on Strava, it also came with a lot of risks. My knees already are a weak spot for me. By pushing myself above my previous training volume, I risked aggrevating old injuries on my patellar tendons. Typically it just means tendonitis, and being uncomfortable while riding for longer distances, or doing a lot of climbing. As a precaution, I'm following the "R.I.C.E." strategy (Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation), minus compression. Stretching and quality time with my foam roller to keep everything limber will be on the schedule as well. I have two events this month that I'm intending to do (Ride 4 Animal Care, Bee Buzzin' Bicycle Tour), along with one last super long training ride scheduled for the end of the month.

Approaching SRT tracks

The other side of not derailling my efforts is making smart decisions on the bike. This means not taking unnecessary risks, especially around railroad tracks. I learned the hard way late last year that tracks are not something to toy with. I was lucky that my injuries were minor, and I was able to ride away. If you talk to folks that have been riding for a while, a majority have stories to tell about railroad tracks. Works like "fracture" or "crack" are often used in combination with "clavical or hip". Just this spring I've had multiple friends end up off the bike for extended periods of time while their injuries heal. These are folks with tens of thousands of miles on the bike; I've riden with them on events like the Assault on Mt Mitchell. These aren't novice riders that didn't know how to handle tracks. 

After my encounter, I felt like I had just been body slammed by a professional wrestler. One moment I was crossing the tracks, the next I was picking myself off the ground. There wasn't a moment of "I'm going to fall" or "oh this is going to hurt". Anything that happened between when my wheel caught the rail and I went down was done purely on instinct. I had to have landed on my right arm, as it was tender for several weeks afterwards. If I had more time, I probably would have had worse injuries, as I probably would have attempted to put my arm out to brace myself.

After my tumble I take a lot different attitude towards tracks: unless I'm confident that I have a good angle to cross (close to, if not, perpendicular), and the conditions are good, I'll unclip and cross with one foot on the ground. Folks probably think I'm out of my mind when I reach the tracks on the Swamp Rabbit, but I unclip every time I cross those. The angle is poor, and the spacers are wooden (and thus have a chance to be rotten). The honest truth is this - I've been on an almost constant training routine for almost 3 years now, between just getting into shape and preparing for various rides. I don't need to take the risk that today is the day that the tracks are a little bit slippery, or my judgement is off on what angle is going to get my wheels safely over the gaps. No Strava segment, or draft advantage in a group ride, is worth being sidelined waiting for bones to mend.

2013 Assault on Mount Mitchell Recap

 May 20, 2013 marked the 38th running of the Assault on Mt Mitchell ride, leaving out of Spartenburg, SC.  We arrived at the starting area about 6am to get ready for the ride.  Rolling up to the start line with about 15 minutes remaining before the start, the weather was foggy, but the temperatures were decent.  As folks lined up on Church Street, the anticipation mounted.   We had a wonderful rendition of the Star Spangled Banner, and then we had a count down.  Even though I've been in several large rides so far, this one seemed bigger for some reason.  Somewhere around 1,300 riders were there; some just for the trip to Marion, the rest taking on the mountain.  The plan I had worked out was to try to stay in a solid group up to Marion, making it to the campgrounds in between 4 and 4 1/2 hours.  I had been advised that my time to Marion would be an indicator of my final time.  My final goal was to complete the ride in under 9 hours.   

The timer reached zero, and after a few seconds we were off.  The pace was strong, but overall solid.  The first hour was rather uneventful, as the terrain was relatively flat and the groups remained pretty calm.  The fog created a little bit of an issue, as everyone had to figure out how to adjust to the moisture.  I had to remove my glasses, as the condensation made it hard to see.  Several folks were fighting with the condensation actually dripping into their faces off the front of their helmets as well.  

After about 75 minutes, a large peleton had formed on the road, enveloping the smaller group that I was in.  This group reportedly had somewhere around 400 riders in it.  The danger of a group this large is that it ends up having a mind of it's own, and you end up having a large amount of speed changes.  These speed changes can drain you of energy unless you can absorb them.  I ended up at the front more often than I wanted, as I knew that taking turns pulling would take a lot of energy that I needed to save for the climb to the summit.  I did attempt to pull a few times, as I wanted to do my part if I ended up there.  My wife had kept our two younger girls out of school today, and the goal was for them to drive to the spectator spots and try to view me riding through.  As we reached the first of the spectator spots, I didn't notice my family as we rode through.  I figured that we had just missed the timing.  

The first real challenge of the ride was going to come near the 45 mile mark, as we got near to the climb called Bill's Hill.  This is where I expected any group that I was in to break up, and I'd have to be careful about finding a good pace to keep going.  There is a slight climb, then a descent, before heading into Bill's Hill.  Once we reached the climb it was obvious that the massive group that we had been in was going to break up.  Many folks decided to make a stop at either of the rest areas around Bill's Hill prior to making it into Marion.  I had mentally decided that I didn't want to stop until at least the campgrounds in Marion, much to my own detriment as I learned later int he ride.  I managed to stay with various folks until around Marion.  When I got to the Campgrounds I had decided to stop to say hi to the wife and kids if I saw them, but I didn't feel like I really needed to stop.  I was still riding strong, had water in my bottles and food in my packs.  I didn't see them again, so I kept on riding.  Looking back on it I wish I had stopped for 5 minutes, as we probably would have met up and the rest would have done me a lot of good.   

I pushed on towards the Blue Ridge, knowing that there was a good place to stop and rest before the real climb on Highway 80 kicked up.  On the way I witnessed someone working with a personal SAG vehicle.  We were warned to not have people following us, and just watching this interaction really showed how dangerous it could be on this ride.  This rider put himself, me, every other rider in the field, and other drivers on the road at risk just for the sake of having snacks when he wanted them without stopping.  I wanted a good time on this ride, but not at that cost.  I took a moment to mention that if the ride officials saw him that his day would be ended prematurely, and left it at that.   My next stop was the rest area.

After getting a rest, I moved on to the top of Highway 80.  I have read that this area is

known as Devil's Whip, named for how dangerous this area is to navigate.  There is a photographer up here that takes photos of the cars and cyclists as they ride by.  This section really put me to the test.  As I reached it, most of my resolve started to wane.  My foot started to really ache, and I was completely drained of energy.  As I look back I wonder if I had taken more breaks and made sure that I was properly fueled and rested that I would have felt a little better after this section.  I struggled to the top, and took a break at the rest area.  By break I mean I got off the bike, laid down on the grass, took off my right shoe, and admired the view for a while.  I had gotten my shoe too tight, and didn't recognize the symptoms until way too late.  My foot ached as I let it rest, along with letting my heart rate drop.  

Once I felt strong enough to try to keep going, I got back on the bike and started to ride on the Parkway.   This is one of my favorite stretches of road, as the views are incredible.  Even with the wonderful views, at this point every mile felt like it took an hour, and it was a struggle to just keep my pedals moving.  I started to take rests at the overlooks to keep my heart under control.   I was determined to finish, so I just kept taking it one step at a time.  I got to the rest area on the Parkway, and took some extra time to just rest.  This particular stop has a view of Mitchell, and I could see

that the summit was still covered in clouds.  The forecast had called for a chance of thunderstorms in the afternoon, and I had worried about having to finish in the rain.  At this point it looked like that could be a real possibility.

After the rest stop there is a wonderful downhill section that lasts for a few miles that felt incredible, giving me a bit more energy.  From there I struggled the next few miles to the water stop at the turn off of the parkway towards Mitchell, and got off the bike again to let my foot (and the rest of me) relax.  At this point I had wished that I had taken a bio break a the previous rest stop.  It was only 3 miles at this point to the entrance to the park, and I figured I could take another full break there.  I ended up having to stop at each of the pull over areas again to catch my breath.   At this point there started to be a cool breeze pushing me forward.  I thanked God for the encouragement, and I worked my way slowly up to the top.  I knew the 8 hour mark was out of reach but my main goal was finishing, not getting any particular time.  

I reached the entrance to the park, and took another good break.  I used the facilities,

and risked having a coke.  I wasn't sure if it was going help or not, but being just 2 miles from the summit I knew I could continue to the top even if it soured my stomach.  The good news was that it didn't, and that along with a banana and the time off the bike really helped out my situation.  Also having the first 3/4 of the trip in the park having a low gradient, I got some momentum before I reached the top.  Hearing the cheers as folks urged us on felt good.  Making it to the top made me feel better.  

After I made it through the chute, I handed off my bike and got my patch.  I was instructed up the stairs where my dry bag waited.  I got some tomato soup and took off my cycling shoes, finding a cool spot to sit.  After a few minutes my wife and girls found me, and we celebrated the end of the ride.  I put on some street clothes, and we made it to the bus back to Marion.  At the bottom we got some BBQ to eat, and I reclaimed my bike.  

I have a lot of take aways from this adventure, most of them in how I need to prepare for events like this.  My personality is such that once I get on the bike, stopping is a challenge.  I did better with eating and drinking than I had in other long events, but I think I can do better.   I have no doubt that I will want a rematch on the course at some point, as I think I can improve as I get stronger on the bike.  I hope that when I tackle it again I can enjoy it more and spend more time riding with friends along the route. 

Ramping up

Most of the blogs that I follow are talking about "tapering" this week.  The ideas is that you cut back on the number of miles that you are riding to let your legs rest and heal in preparation for the big effort that is to come.  I've never been all that good at finding the "low gear" to settle back into, but right now I'm working on a secondary issue of taking an unintended few weekends off due to poor weather.  The weekends are where I get my big rides, and thus my big miles, in.  Without a good solid Saturday ride, my miles can plummet quickly.  Combining that with the knee stress I put on myself during the month of April, I really needed the time to heal.  What it didn't do was put me in a great mental state for the ride, as my mileage for the month of May right now is matching 1 week of training in April.   Thus this week I decided to ramp up slightly from where I've been so far in May, to get myself mentally and physically "awake" for the event.  



The positive effect on this is that I feel as prepared as I could be for Mitchell at this point.  Up until this morning I kept feeling like I peaked when we scouted out the mountain late last month.  With the extra miles in this week I feel like I've gotten myself back established into my routine.  I'm also going to be within 20 miles of my target prior to Mitchell (I'm at 1,962mi for the year right now).  The negative effect is that I haven't let my knee have a lot of rest time at this point, and I feel like I'm going to have more soreness than I wanted to on the trip to Marion.  The only thing I can do for that is to ride smarter on Monday, and not try to get froggy when the pack surges.  I'm not doing the event for time at this point, my goal is completion. 

It also is difficult for me to find the balance personally because I'm used to riding hard on a Saturday, not a Monday.  For the Assault on the Carolinas I was able to ramp down easier, because I had my normal Tuesday night ride, then just a recovery day to work through.  With Mitchell being on Monday, I have to figure out which rides I scale back for, and how much I scale back in order to have fresh legs.   All things being equal, I really should have looked to do more heavy climbing on Mondays later in the training regime, so I could have gotten myself into the schedule for the event.  I don't think it's going to make enough of a difference that I'll regret not thinking about the schedule as I got my miles in.

My plan right now is if the weather holds (we have a 50% chance of rain) that I'll go out for an easy ride with the local bike shop on Saturday.  Sunday is the expo and packet pickup, and an early alarm time for Monday morning.  I still have my dry bag to pack, and I need to do my final inspection and lubing of the bike.    

T-minus...

Crowd before a Launch - Credit: NASA

Growing up on the Space Coast of Florida, it seems instinctive to know what the countdown clock is, and its significance.  The date is set; the orbiter was assembled and rolled out onto the launch pad; final preparations are being made.  It wasn't a time to install a new fancy gadget, or to work on improving the rockets thrust ability.  There was a set amount of time that was left, and repairs and final fixes were all there left.  At some point fueling would be finished, the Astronauts would climb aboard the craft, and they would light up the Florida skyline rocketing towards their destination.

At this point I feel like it's a very similar situation for me with my training for the Assault on Mount Mitchell:  The training is done, the date is set, and it's time to start making sure everything is together for the big event.  By the time May rolled around, I knew I had to be ready physically for the challenge that I had in front of me.  At this point I do not feel like there is any additional training that I can do that will make me better prepared for the journey coming in just 18 days.  Saturdays are the day that I have in my personal life for big efforts, and there are just 3 of them left to go.  I still would really like to get a century ride in to Bill's Hill before May 20, but the time to do so is limited.  What I don't want to do at this point is injure myself by pushing too hard so close to the final event.  

As I stated on the scouting trip to Mount Mitchell last month, the 3.5 hour grind to the top definitely pushed my knee to its limits.  In my youth I played a lot of baseball, and as a part of that I developed Osgood-Schlatter disease in both of my knees.  I can still remember the game that ended my baseball "career"; when I damaged my knees to the point of needing to have a cast on one of them for 6 weeks to let it repair.  At 38 the good news is that my knee is mostly fine, but the scar tissue from the previous damage can irritate my Patellar tendon.  Knowing my limits prior to the event is fantastic, but it also means I need to heal as well as finish preparing for the Assault.

After a washout of a weekend, this Monday I decided that I really wanted to get some climbing in.  It had been about 10 days since scouting out Mitchell, and while I had ridden relatively hard the previous week I hadn't done any real climbing.  What I decided was that a couple of trips up Paris Mountain would be a good workout.


What it taught me is that I needed more recovery time from big efforts than I had planned.  About halfway back up I really started to feel it, and being the human being that I am I pushed up to the top.  It was a perfect day to spend extra time on Paris Mountain, but what I really got from it is an understanding of what these big efforts mean for me personally.   The next day was the typical Tuesday night event here in town (sometimes lovingly known as the Tuesday night championships), and while I wasn't dead for it I definitely felt the day before more than I typically would.  For right now I'm just shutting down training for a few days to let my knee rest, and doing some extra easy stretching morning and night to relax it some.  

With just 3 Saturdays left to go, I have to make hard decisions.  To me there are only 2 training days left that are viable.  The first is this weekend there is a trip from Table Rock  up into the Pisgah National Forrest that I really want to do.  It's 97 miles with 8,500' of climbing total.  It would put all of my preparation to the test.  The big question really comes down to preparation:  Am I going to be prepared for that big of an effort at this point, and if I do would I be able to recover to put in a bigger effort just 2 weeks later.  Knowing that even after 10 days my knee is still tender and prone to issues, I'm thinking that the efforts that the Table Rock ride would require could do a lot more harm than good.  Right now I'm looking at what I can do on May 11th as my final big ride, and that will probably be riding the first 50 miles of the Assault (up to and including Bill's Hill) to get myself mentally prepared for the efforts required.  I'm not sure how many folks will attempt to ride that day, but hopefully I can find some folks that are willing to get up stupid early on a Saturday so I can test out my morning routine as well.   After May 11 it is time to start the countdown clock, and do final preparations.  

T-minus 18 days.  The training is done.  It's time to prepare.

Not the typical "High" for 4/20

When most people think of getting high on 4/20, the end result is not to think about a bicycle ride.  No water purifiers or rolling paper was utilized as a part of the experience!  That said, this year I was invited on a ride to scout the final 30 miles of the Assault on Mount Mitchell, which is where it all starts to become uphill.  

As a recap, the Assault on Mount Mitchell is a cycling event out of Spartanburg, SC.  After riding approximately 75 miles, you reach the base of the Blue Ride Mountains, and start climbing up to the top of Mt Mitchell.  Mitchell happens to be the highest point in the eastern United States, located just outside of Asheville, NC.  The goal is not just to conquer the Beast of the East, but to do it after riding through the foothills for several hours.  

For the sake of this ride, I got to experience the trip starting with semi-fresh legs.  I say semi-fresh, because I had gone out Thursday during lunchtime and worked on some climbing on Paris Mountain outside of Greenville, SC, not intending to do any serious climbing for the weekend.  Originally I wanted to do repeats after work, but when the weather looked transitional, I squeezed as much of a ride as possible into my lunch.  Thus I pushed hard up the mountain.  I was then invited by a few folks I had met during the AOMM training series to ride up Mitchell to get a feel for what I'd need for effort after making it to Marion.  

We set out early Saturday morning, and parked just off of Highway 80 in Marion, NC.  After getting the bikes set up, we started up highway 80 towards the Blue Ridge Parkway.  This ended up being a good warm up section, and we kept the pace reasonable.  The obvious goals today for me were to keep my efforts in check, and to get an idea for the pacing and total effort required to enter the chute during the actual event.  I wasn't out to set any personal records at max efforts.

The final 5 miles of Highway 80 contain a decent amount of climbing to them.  Strava rates this segment as a Category 2 level climb, similar in effort to Ceaser's Head.  The overall grade was reasonable, and I didn't really notice any major double digit gradings on my bike computer as we climbed to the top.  There are 2 switchbacks to deal near the end of the climb, but they were very manageable.  The views at this point were pretty, I noticed a really awesome dam as well as a reservoir and fishing communities on the way up.  

At the top is the junction with the BRP, and we took a real short break.  We made the turn onto the parkway, which to me marked the second segment of the ride.  You spend approximately 11 miles riding along the majestic roadway.  I was captivated by the constant view of the surrounding area.  It made the climb go by quickly.   This section has 3 segments of climbing, and 2 small descents.  Again there were no double digit grades to deal with, and here there were no switchbacks.  There are also plenty of pulloffs to stop at to admire the scenery or just catch your breath if needed.

Fantastic views, and a couple of tunnels to ride through

More fantastic views

At last we reached the first major sign of the goal:  The turn off from the parkway to the Mount Mitchell State Park.  

Turning off the Parkway

To me, this is really when the ride started to take a toll.  The hardest part was keeping the goal in mind mentally, and not getting ahead of myself or my intended pace.  Also, at this point I wasn't thinking about the efforts needed at higher altitudes, and we were almost a mile up from sea level.  Strava states that it is approximately 3 miles from the turn off of the parkway to the actual front gate of the state park.  The climb is considered category 3 by Strava, which is similar in effort to Paris Mountain.  The average grade is slightly steeper than the previous efforts, but again no major double digit grunts to deal with.

Are we there yet?

As we entered the gates, the temperature difference from the bottom was getting to be noticeable.  Several folks that we rode past asked "aren't you cold?", to which we shruged and said "not really."  By this point I had unintentionally created a gap between myself and my riding companions, as I was just attempting to keep a steady pace going.  The downside to this was the mental aspect of not quite knowing how much further I had to go, and what efforts I was going to need.  I made the decision to just keep on the main road to the end, as there were no additional markers stating that the summit was on any of the turn offs.  I also decided to not surge or try to push myself as I climbed.  This definitely was a wise choice.

The Summit was in view!

During the trip up, I had noticed that we had seen ice in the shady parts of the parkway, and that the temperatures were definitely chilly.  It wasn't until about halfway up the summit road that I really took notice of the conditions, though.  The smells and sights climbing the summit were outstanding.  The smell of fresh pine, the crisp  air, being able to see out for hundreds of miles, the sky that was so blue that you'd swear God was using PhotoShop that day.  It absolutely took my breath away.  The pine trees also looked different, to which I noticed that they were dusted with frost/snow on the tips.   The difference in climate was definitely something to take note of, as I would have to accommodate for that as a part of my packing for the trip.

I reached the top with no major incidents, although I did end up having a gentleman have words to me.  He attempted to pass me in a blind curve (on the road to the summit, 6700' above sea level) and was unhappy that I wasn't all the way over hugging the shoulder stripe.  I apologized for being in his way, and offered that passing someone in a blind curve is not the best concept on a mountain road.  Shortly after reaching the top the others in my group arrived, and we took a few minutes to admire the scenery and take some pictures.

I wish we could have spent more time up at the Summit, but we were not prepared for the chilly conditions that we encountered.  I quickly pulled the wind vest out of my back pocket that I brought for the descent, and we headed back to the car.  

The trip down was mostly uneventful, and very speedy.  I did learn a few valuable lessons on the way back, though.  The few places where we had small descents on the way up became small climbs on the way back.  After resting on the descents (we were already going speeds fast enough to need to ride our breaks on the way down, so there was absolutely no reason to pedal), putting effort into the climbs was a little tricky.  My stomach wasn't ready to go from zero effort to climbing like that, especially after a long duration climb that I had gone through previously.  The rapid change in altitude I'm sure didn't help that much, either.   Luckily I was keeping this in mind as we went, and I made sure to continue to eat and drink along the way, and take stops every so often.  Likewise I learned that the 3.5 hour grind to the top was near the limit of what my knee was willing to take, and that I need to be careful with it on the actual Assault.  The last thing I want is tendinitis now, or a flare up during the actual event.  I also had to ride my brakes a bit more than I probably should have along the way down as well, and as such I need to spend more time working on my slow descent skills for future events.  This part isn't going to be as big of a deal for the Assault on Mount Mitchell, as once we get to the Summit they truck us and our bikes down separately.  

I'm glad that I got to opportunity to take on Mitchell before heading up there on the Assault.  Knowing what level of effort is going to be required, and keeping that in mind as I'm keeping pace on the way to Marion will be critical during the event.  I don't think we could have picked a better day to do the run, either.  With or without the Assault, Mt Mitchell is on my "must ride" list for anyone that is serious about riding picturesque landscapes.  The efforts are not as demanding as some of the other hard climbs I've done in the past year, but the long term demand of climbing for over 3 hours will definitely take it's toll.  The view was totally worth the effort.