Here’s the latest things on my mind. Most of it is bike stuff. I’ve become bike-obsessed (again). I’m really enjoying the obsession with become a better cyclist (as opposed to a better live-streamer who happens to bike).
Yesterday I did my first century ride in a very long time. I did it mostly to make sure I can still do it. I was suprised that, while uncomfortable, it was never really painful. Even my bare hands made it through without significant damange, numbness, or blistering. It appears all this ramp up to longer distances and more time in the saddle has been paying off. Cycling long distances is so much easier on one’s body than running.
I’m now obsessed with the century distance (which some call “endurance cycling”). This was the first of “Sunday Solo Centuries” that I plan on doing every at least until May 20th, 2023 when I will be “assaulting” Mt. Mitchell. After yesterday I’m confident I can easily do Mt. Mitchell in under nine hours, but I’d really feel amazing if I could come in under eight (which would have put me 22 out of 73 or top 30% of my 55-59 age group in 2023). Anything under 8:30 would be top third.
These fat, happy guys did Assault in about nine hours (enjoying every rest stop along the way). They really inspire me to have fun with it. In fact, I hope to make some friends and plan to do it again every year with those friends (wherever they may be).
I feel like I actually hit this goal yesterday when I run the numbers and adjust for the Assault. Despite the 1442 meters of steep climbing, 30 lbs “dad” bike, 25 lbs of weight I still need to lose, and my refusal to ever go “aero” and just stay casual and comfortable the whole time wearing my loose-fitting clothes, I averaged just under 14 mph. That’s without a peloton to draft. I finished in 7:11, which is about how long Mt. Mitchell would take if it were flat, but it is not flat. I’d have finished the first 74 miles of the Assault in 5 1/2 hours at that pace, solo. The remaining 30-ish miles of the Assault are almost all up, 5500 feet (1676 meters) with one really steep climb and huge descent around mile 90. That’s a 3.6% average grade, which really isn’t that much at all, it’s just 30 miles of it. Even if I didn’t have my triple-chain ring I could spin that out without any extra energy expenditure from the century I did yesterday. I could drop to 9 mph and complete those 30 final miles in about 3 1/2 hours or about 9 hours total. But if I can suck wind in the 18mph peloton (4.1 hours) and get light and strong enough to climb at 10mph pace (3 hours) I should finish in just over 7 hours, well under my goal of 8 hours. I’ll easily be 25 lbs lighter by then. So I think this is a realistic goal—especially if I do a a full solo century every Sunday for the next 37 weeks.
Woah, wouldn’t it be cool if I ended up going under 7 hours? That would have been under 20% in 2023. Whenever I’ve been competitive in endurance sports I generally place in the top 20%, so who knows? It’s not a competitive thing, just the way I’m programmed. “The race is long and in the end it is only with yourself.” (Baz Luhrman, Sunscreen Song) If the event is worth doing, I like to do it well and prepare (except for that one Thunderoad Marathon least-possible-training experiment, omg, never again). I’m excited.
After watching Lael Wilcox’s Tour Divide film (one of the best every made about cycling in general) and hearing TerryB openly admit to Dustin Klein while recapping his “Slow Line” trans-America tour that deep-down he’s a bike-packer at heart I realized that as much as I love bike-messenger culture and riding fixies I’m also more committed to bike-packing culture and challenges than that. It’s not like it has to be one or the other, for sure. But bike-packing checks all the bases of everything I love and fits well with my aging body. I am definitely shifing to bike-packing (and away from “touring”) which means I’m selling all my panniers immediately. I once wanted to just live out of my bike. Now I want the absolutely minimum required to ride and learn to adapt to what’s available around me as much as possible so I can travel longer distances and see more while still maintaining a regular job.
For example, I’m completely committed to doing “Sunday Solo Centureis” outside no matter what. If Lael can brave near freezing temperatures overnight and on the road I can dial in exactly the gear I need to ride every Sunday in any conditions.
So yeah, I cancelled my subscription to Zwift, again. Honestly, I hate riding indoors, even with Zwift. My last Zwift ride I did break my PR for Alpe Du Zwift (<90 minutes) but I hated the entire thing—especially the idiot who wrote the “Foundation Training” plan and all their “I want you to …” prompts. I get why that is. But all the people I would ever want to be friends with would be annoyed as fuck at all that.
I do like an occasional race, but I’ve never enjoyed that more than being outside. The only time I ever want to ride indoors is if there is ice and snow on more than 50% of the roads and trails. That is less than 10% of the year (if that) in North Carolina. I might as well take advantage of that wonderful fact about this state since I’m going to be here a very long time.
It might sound obvious, but what the fuck. I want (mostly) friends with the same core interests and obsessions as me. I would rather be close friends with a few people I deeply respect (people like Terry, Lael, and Dustin) than most other human beings. Watching the camaraderie and respect they Lael and her co-riders had for one another during that Tour Divide video was something I immediately wanted. These people are bonded in a way that transcends geographical boundaries and requires almost no relationship building because they already are kindred spirits. Such is not required from a spouse (obviously, as also came out in that film) but I desperately want to meet and be around more people who have the grit and obsession to brave extreme discomfort to have the experiences that they do. There are a lot of people who have this same obsession, but they are very hard to find.
The ugly truth is that I allowed myself to go soft, in more ways than one, preferring cozy over conflict with myself and the elements. The guy who hitch-hiked 400 miles sleeping on the side of the road in near freezing temperatures outside the Saw-Tooth mountains, who guided hundreds through deadly rapids, roughed the White-Rim trail in Moab, hacked hackers in his spare time, and who dealt with the Russian mob and Caribbean drug cartels, has always been who I am. What the hell happened to that guy? Thankfully, I think I found him again.
I’ve said it before, but it’s worth saying again. I’m no longer interested at all in living and traveling from my car. I’d rather live from my bike for months at a time instead. I never want to live anywhere that I cannot bike outside for 2-3 hours a day and that is way too long to be away from any car packed with expensive gear inside of it. Plus, I could never push myself on the bike for fear no one would be there to help me.
The idea that I considered car-living makes me kind of mad at myself right now. It was never about the car. It was always about getting out and away with the bike.
I’m still open to the idea of living all over the world and working remotely, just not out of my car and always with my bike with me. That way I have a very stable base from which to launch bike adventures.