Naked and Weather

Longest and probably hardest ride ever yesterday, but I felt good.  Life is strange.  I think it's because I started off slow, and ate a LOT.

So, 91 miles from Middleburg VA, plus Mt. Weather, plus Naked mountain and then another 42 miles to the end.

So, that's Mount Weather at mile 20, and that's Naked mountain at 45.  And while Mt. Weather is a beast, Naked Mountain is steep, and to be honest, it's actually harder.  Or maybe it's that it came second today...

Here's the gang I rode with at the top of Naked mountain - actually there's one more hill to the top, but this is the top of the part that makes you want to pick up your bike and throw it in the woods. For reference please see my teammate's video from a few years ago, the "good part" starts at 1:30 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l2VdILSLfqw. 

So that's the longest ride of the season, Moab in 2 weeks. Wow.

Go Team!

The Battle of Naked Mountain?

My friend Carrie suggested that I compare this weekend's ride to a historical event, to give depth to the blog post. Well, August 13th, 1940 marked the start of the Battle of Britain.  Now I'm not claiming that my 68 mile bike ride in any way merits the same recognition as "the largest and most sustained aerial bombing campaign" ever waged at that time, but it took a physical and emotional toll on me, and it the dates match so I'm going with it.

Danish WWII Bicycle Troops

The ride was called Zap-the-Gap, named for Clarke's Gap which is one of two major climbs on the ride.  68 or 62 miles depending on which cue sheet you were following, one for those of us training for Moab Utah, one for the folks training for the Seagull Century, a much less hilly ride.

The second major climb of the ride is Naked mountain, which is featured only on the Moab cue.  You may recall Naked mountain from my training for the Lake Tahoe ride in 2010.  Let me quote from my first Naked Mountain experience: "We got to Naked mountain.  I started to climb.  I suddenly couldn't move my feet anymore and had to walk up the first bit..." to summarize the 2010 experience, I biked it until I couldn't move my legs anymore, walked, got back on the bike when it got less steep and then repeated.  At the top, an alum called it the toughest climb on the training schedule. So until last Saturday the score was Naked Mountain: 1, Phyllis: 0.  

Alarm went off at 4:55AM, out the door by 5:30AM.  Traffic was stopped on the beltway just before the toll road.  Stopped.  At 5:35AM.  Construction.  Spent 30 minutes creeping along in the pre-dawn dark.  Called my mentor Dave who asked if I was going home and back to bed.  Suddenly that was all I could think about.  The traffic cleared, and I drove to the start, with enough time to get ready.  Plenty of other teammates were late too.

Weather was almost cool, unlike many inferno-like rides this summer.  A little rain, chance of thunderstorms, but overcast. 

Rolling hills, big ones all the way to the start of Clark's Gap at mile 17.  Why is there always so much climbing before the big climbs?  Clarks's gap is a two mile climb on a heavily trafficked two lane road with no shoulder.  No, I don't know why someone hasn't decided this is too dangerous. At slow climbing speed, it's harder to ride a straight line - so two miles up with laser ("laser") focus on not veering into heavy traffic.  Had some food after the 4 mile descent, clearly not enough, because after more hills (rolling and otherwise) to the next stop at mile 35 I was barely holding it together.  Drained.  Back aching. Hoping for a ride back to the car.  Stick a fork in me. 

Much relieved to see my friend Mike Ashley at the SAG stop at mile 35.  Fantasies about getting a ride to my car in his truck were dissolved when I realized that he had to wait there for all the riders to pass, and that I would get back to my car hours later if I waited.  I might as well ride. So I ate a ton of food, took some advil and some enduralytes and prepared to ride on.

I was riding with Naomi (a mentor I hadn't met) and Kirk (with whom I've ridden many memorable hard rides) - and all of us were finding it a tough day.  The SAG stop was about 6 miles from our decision point for the second half of the ride. Moab cue= 5 extra miles (68 T) plus Naked mountain.   Seagull cue= skip naked mountain (63T).  Kirk had been planning to skip Naked mountain so when he said that he wanted to ride the Moab cue at the same time as I said I wanted to ride the Seagull cue, I was surprised.  We would make the final decision where the cue sheets diverged.

I've never regretted a hard ride, but have often regretted choosing an easier path, so as my energy started to come back in the miles after the SAG stop, riding Naked Mountain became more and more firm in my mind.  When we stopped at the route divergence, Kirk had decided that the Seagull cue was that he wanted, and I had got it into my head we were going up the mountain.  A 180 degree switch for us both.  So we headed towards Naked mountain....what doesn't kill you makes you stronger right?  As Naomi said - if we had to walk up it, we'd get past it that way.

 Mile 47.  Naked mountain.  Let me say here that doing some of these rides a second time, they don't seem anywhere near as bad as they did the first season, 2010.  I'm in better shape, I know what's coming, and I have the confidence that even if it gets really challenging, I can keep going. I was sure that Naked mountain was nowhere near as hard as it seemed the first time, I'd done many hard climbs since then.  Let me tell you, I was wrong. Wrong.  Naked mountain is the hardest climb I've ever done, it's steep, and it's long.  The first part is steep and when it levels out there's a tiny downhill and you think, yeah, I've got this.  And the you hit the second steep part, and it doesn't stop.  It's steep and you turn a bend and it keeps climbing and climbing. All I thought about was keeping the pedals turning.  Not giving up.  Turn the pedals.  Just keep going.  Can't be far to the end.  Don't stop.  Don't give in.  Keep pedaling.

I'm proud to say I didn't stop. I was going slower than molasses, but I kept going to the top.  Kirk was already there, and I collapsed over my handlebars, gasping out "that was the hardest climb I've ever done".  Kirk concurred. My body pondered throwing up.  It didn't.  Naomi joined us at the top.  Only 18 more miles to go.  New score: Naked Mountain:1, Phyllis: 1.

One more short climb to reach the Naked Mountain descent, and we kept going and going.  The last 3 miles were uphill, creepingly, achingly uphill.  The longest 3 miles at the end of a ride I can remember.  Usually by that point, being so close to the finish, you just mindlessly cycle to the end.  The end of this one is just cruelty.  After all that fighting, you slug it our right until the parking lot.

And we were done. 2:30PM. Kirk, Naomi and I hugged and agreed that we probably couldn't have done it alone.  That's the "team" in team in training.  I lingered, had a recovery drink, and drove myself home -with a McDonalds stop on the way.  Fried chicken sandwich, and french fries and a sweet tea. Take that, 4000 calorie ride.

I was on the couch later that afternoon, when an email arrived, sent to the whole team, it was from Naomi:

"I just want to say a quick and a public thank you to my riding partners today!  Phyllis and Kirk – you reinforced for me one of the most powerful reasons to train with TNT!  Any one of us can have a tough mile, a tough climb, a tough day or just not be totally into the day’s ride, and we find friends who pop up when we don’t expect it!  Without the 2 of you, I shan’t have made the full Moab ride.  OK, I admit I escorted my bike 2/10 of a mile up Naked Mountain, but you were both waiting for me when I got to the top.  And that short hill walk was my “cross training” for the Nike Women’s Marathon in October.

Thank you to you both and to everyone on our team!  You all inspire me."

And that in a nutshell is what team in training is about.  Something really challenging, that you think you can't do, and your teammates pull you through.  You find your mental toughness.  You hope that telling people about what you've experienced inspires them to donate to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (http://pages.teamintraining.org/nca/moabtour11/pfrosst).

So, the Battle of Britain? Not exactly, but I'll quote from Churchill's eponymous speech because it's quite apt : We cannot tell what lies ahead. It may be that even greater ordeals lie before us. We shall face whatever is coming to us. We are sure of ourselves and of our cause and that is the supreme fact which has emerged in these months of trial.

Go Team!

Why would I give up my saturdays and keep training for ANOTHER 100 miles?

Well, for one, training for Fletcher Flyer introduced me to more people who needed the Leukemia and Lymphoma society and LLS was able to help them and second - take a look at the view riding in Utah:

'Twas the night before Fletcher...

...and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, but my logitech mouse.   The bicycle was packed in the VW with care, in hopes of a century with weather quite fair.

The laundry was rolling all damp in the dryer, getting ready for the hilltops at Fletcher Flyer.  And me with my suitcase,  cliff bars and team jersey, had just finished packing mere hours before Thursday.

When from my iMac, there was heard a soft ringing, email was alive and my friends they were pinging!  Tomorrow!  To Asheville!  With bikes and with floor pumps! We're leaving round two-ish! In pairs and in clumps!

So I answered my emails, updated my status.  I tweeted some GO TEAMS then put the Mac on hiatus.  And I thought to myself as I headed to bed,  a short work week for my teammates - we'll cure cancer instead.

In case of emergency, burn cue sheet

Hardest ride of the year, including Sugarloaf mountain at mile 9, twice over a mountain pass near Antietam, a hill so painful it's just called "the wall" and enough rolling hills to last a lifetime on the first hot day of the year.  At 81 miles and 4800 feet of climbing, it was the shorter of the two options, with a 93 mile cue sheet available too...

Word is that the ride was much harder than the century on June 6th, looking forward to 100 miles then!

 

Near the start before Sugarloaf

Some of the roads we got to ride.

With Karen Marsten after climbing Sugarloaf.

 Friends with cameras catching a moving pic with a smile.

 With Amy Burke at Sugarloaf.

 With Coach Will.

 With coach Will after riding the wall three miles from the end. That's a smile of relief.

 We waited for all the 93 mile riders to finish too.  This was close to 7PM, we met at 7AM...

Go TEAM!

2x100 Miles to Beat Cancer

Hi Everyone,

I'm about three weeks away from riding the Fletcher Flyer century with Team in training, and have been riding many miles of hills through every kind of weather imaginable short of snow.  This Saturday I woke up at 5:30AM, was out the door shortly after and rode 76 miles in the rain not because I wanted to, but because I promised you that I would.

My friends and family, you have donated very generously to the Leukemia and Lymphoma society on my behalf, and I've raised over $2400 for the society so far.  Looking at last year's total, this is about half of what I raised in total last year. I've figured out some more motivation for you.  Recently, Team in Training made us an offer that I've decided to accept: I'll ride a second 100 mile event with TNT in Moab Utah this September and keep training with the team until then, and in exchange, I have promised to raise a total of $5600 for both events.  With some hard work and with your help, I know I can reach both goals.

But it's really not about me, it's SO not about me. I can ride my bike any time, I don't need to wake up at 5AM and ride in the rain, in fact, I don't want to -  but I get to choose, and so I ride.  If you have cancer, you don't have a choice.  Chemo, radiation, surgery, losing your hair, parts of your body, this is what you do to survive. 

So how about it?  Now is when I need your help. You can donate here: 

 http://pages.teamintraining.org/nca/fletcher11/pfrosst 

It's easy, it's fast, it's tax deductible.  It'll make you feel good.  But don't take my work for it, here is my teammate Amy explaining what Team in Training and the Leukemia and Lymphoma society have meant to her...

Amy's story in her own words:

Twenty years ago…
I was diagnosed with stage III Hodgkin's disease, had a splenectomy and other grueling tests, and completed five months of radiation.

Fifteen years ago…
I was considered cured of Hodgkin's disease.

Five years ago…
I was diagnosed with early stage breast cancer and had a double mastectomy.

Two years ago…
I had my thyroid removed to treat nodules of unknown origin.

A year and a half ago…
I was in the worst shape of my life mentally and physically. In a moment of mental dullness, having never really swam, rode or ran any distance, I signed up with Team in Training to train for the St. Anthony's Olympic Distance Triathlon.

Last April…
I crossed the finish line at St. Anthony's after swimming about 3/4 mile in the rough and current filled waters of the Tampa Bay, riding about 25 miles through windy conditions in St. Petersburg and running 6.2 miles in the Florida sun.

Today…
I look back and that moment of mental dullness and realize it was a moment of mental clarity for me.

I joined the Team again this year because I know being on the Team helped me and helps so many others, on and off the bike. When training began this season, I hadn't been on a bike in about 6 months, and it was just like riding a bike as they say. I put on my protective and warming gear, from my helmet to my toe covers, got in the saddle and rode. I started slow, practiced clipping in and out of my pedals, changed a few gears and soon enough I was back to passing others uphill. I rode for about 20 miles on paved roads to our team's finish line that first training ride. I was a little sore afterwards, but a few stretches later, I was feeling great. Now with each week I get stronger and go further than I ever have in my life. I am looking forward to my first Century Ride ever in June, just shy of my 40th birthday.

Life with cancer is NOT like riding a bike. There is no gear you can wear to protect yourself from the treatments, fear and anxiety. The conditions are rocky and often unpredictable. The obstacles come at you like a semi-truck out of nowhere. The pain can be constant, searing and deep. It is constantly an uphill grind. There is no finish line.

This is why I ride. I ride to remember how strong I am. I ride to remember how easy I have it now. I ride to remember those facing cancer still. I ride to remember those whose memories are all of them we have left. I ride to raise money to fund services for patients and research for a cure.

When you are climbing those hills, facing that wind and grinding those gears, remember why you ride. When we ride, we are carrying the hopes of many on our shoulders and feeling the love of so many more.

Thank you.

Amy Burk


"Promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." Christopher Robin to Pooh

Many thanks in advance,

Go team,

Phyllis

Soggy 76 Miles in the Rain in Davidsonville

This one was a ride of mental toughness to keep going and not just give up in the pouring rain, but with Carrie and Geoff, we made it through.  A special shout-out to Jon Bon Jovi.

 A moving shot in the rain...

 Smiling because we're halfway done and the rain has eased.

And because we're finished, despite being completely soaked after 7 hours.