The Dangerous Summer Chapter 5: Hitting Our Stride(s) Part One

So we've trained and trained (and trained some more), it's time to start reaping the rewards of our diligence and prove (to ourselves at least) that it's all been worth it.  Starting with:

Pamperfest (aka Ladies Rockwell Relay) July 20th, 2013

Another near perfect day for a bike race.  July of 2013 was the hottest* ever recorded in Utah but thankfully the mercury for this particular Saturday was slated to stay at or below 90 degrees f (about 32 C), a relatively cool day compared to the summer so far.

 *my source for this is a Rodney facebook post so take that FWIW

An event is only an event until Rodney shows up, then it's (officially) a party.

Time enough before the start to pin bib numbers 

below the pocket line, so you don't snag it while reaching for nutrition but careful not to pin the pockets shut (little bits of race wisdom you pick after you done a few of these).

snap some pre-race photos, 

Pamperfest teammates past & present: Liz & Kerri.  

Jenn & Matt (the other half of the pamperfest support crew)

Kerri & Liz (and some oversized cycling fan in sunglasses) just before the starting gun

and we're off!

The start of this race was designed with Liz in mind: a short, intense climb that she tackles and finishes before we have a chance to mount up and leave the parking lot, then a long descent with fast sweeping turns.  By the time we catch her Liz is already on the flats, rounding the Pineview reservoir and running with the lead group of cyclists.  She finishes the first 21 mile leg in just under an hour and manages to do it without even looking winded. 

Jenn takes over, knocks out the biggest climb of the day and drops into the 'Canadian-power tuck' on the backside.

She finishes the leg strong but not without incident.  About three miles from the exchange point, while she is down in the drops and pedaling with everything she's got, a wasp dive bombs her with apparent malicious intent.  As she reaches down with her right hand to swat it away, her center of gravity tilts and Jenn gets a physics 101 level lesson in inertia (complete with road rash and dropped bike chain).  

One of the support crew from another team sees her predicament, helps her right her bike and gives her a push to get rolling down the road.  She finishes strong and with minimal complaint, cause she's a hockey player* and that's just what hockey players do.

*Actually Canadian ... but yeah, pretty much the same thing.

Back on the bike, Liz chases down more cyclists, works with them for a while, then drops them.  Not on purpose but Liz tends to run and ride like a wind up toy, point her in the right direction, tell her how far she has to go and cut her loose.  She'll power up and keep pouring it on until she runs out of steam or road to race on.  It's a technique that can bite you on endurance events but perfect for these 20 mile relay legs.  It's actually really entertaining to watch, even more fun to listen to the befuddled comments of other four rider teams wondering when these two rider teams (namely Liz and Jennifer) were finally going to slow down.

Even the energizer Bunny needs an extra 'twist' now and then.  Liz gets a hand from Matt (who pushed half a dozen lady-cyclists up this hill ... kinda wish he would have been there on that same hill three weeks later when the Ultimate challenge riders rolled through.  I could have used a push too).

About 2/3 of the way through the race they reached the community center in Oakley and (for today anyway) Pamper-Central.  A dozen ... what's plural for masseuse?  'Suesses?

Masseueres?  Whatever you call them when they travel in groups, they were there and they knew what they were doing.  I tried to watch closely and take mental notes (and not look like a creeper at the same time) so I could learn how to help Jenn out after future physically punishing events.  

Eventually, as the day wore on, the miles accumulated and the temperatures rose, team Hill Hath No Fury (did I mention that was their name, it was but nobody knew that on race day so I guess it's OK that you didn't either) did slow down.   On Jenn's final leg she was caught and dropped by BC Babes (a four-rider team that had been trailing them all day).  

Watching Jenn on these final climbs of the last leg of the race she looked completely gassed.  I rushed to the finish line to drop Liz and Matt off and to return to make sure Jenn was OK.  I hadn't seen her look that wilted since we did the 75 mile Mount Nebo loop last fall.  I didn't have to drive far.  At some point Jenn found her second wind (or are we on the third wind now ... fourth?) and was charging to the finish.  She closed the half mile gap the BC Babes cyclist had opened on her to just over a 100 meters and was reeling her in like a trout.   I flipped a hard u-turn and just barely arrived at the finish in time to snap a photo.

182 miles and 7K of climbing in under 9 1/2 hours, good enough for 6th overall (out of 75 teams that started the race). Not bad for a couple of middle-aged moms.

All in all a really great day, mostly because it's hard to have a bad day if you spend it with Liz.  She's just one of those people that makes you feel good, about yourself, about what you're doing, about life.  She manages to be positive without being saccharine, encouraging without being insincere and takes real and genuine delight in the success of others.  She is, in a word, good people (ok, two words). 

Ironically, Jenn signed up for this race mainly as an excuse to spend the day with her friend, only to spend the entire race not hanging out with Liz (apparently she neglected to do the two rider team arithmetic).  In fact it wasn't until the post race meal and debrief that Liz learned of Jenns major* injury.  I think it's at this point that the two decide in the future if they sign up for events they will be ones they can ride/run concurrently, not consecutively.

*minor

But other than the skinned elbow look at the two of them, fresh as two daisies, you would never know they had spent the better part of the last 10 hours and 200 miles on a bike.  I think Matt and I came away from the event feeling more stiff and sore than they did.  

We eat our Rumbi grill rice bowls (Gluten free option available), finish telling our war stories and then call it a day.

Jenn & Liz are great teammates but even better friends

It would be glib to call the Pamperfest (aka Ladies Rockwell Relay) a pleasant diversion but if we're being honest it (and the River-Rail Relay earlier this summer) was merely the under card to Jenn's main event, the overture to her symphony, the prologue to her Magnum Opus.  It's the Half Ironman that occupies her thoughts, regulates the type and amount of calories she consumes and dictates her workouts.  So after taking a day off (Sunday) it's back on the road (and in the pool).  Two and a half weeks post Pamperfest she has planned:

Trial Tri-run, August 1st, 2013

We got up at 5:30 (actually Jenn got up at 4 and had breakfast cause she read somewhere she needs to eat 3 hours before exercising ... I'm not supposed to talk about it). She went back to bed and then at 6 we went together to the rec center where she swam a kilometer (not pictured).

Then we drove out to Herriman and rode the Mountain View Corridor for 40(ish) miles.

We ran into our buddy Zach the proselyte (two months into cycling and he's already all-in)

told him to jump on and we rode a wicked tailwind north for 15 miles, grabbed some Strava PRs and top tens then ground our way back (into the wind this time) to Herriman.  We dropped Jenn off and she changed into her running outift

Except she didn't change at all, that's the same suit she's been wearing since she jumped in the pool at the rec center.  Good thing for her she looks fabulous in it (it's true, you do, no matter how you perform in the event it will be clear to anybody just by looking at you that you've come prepared to take care of business, have I said I'm proud of you? how impressed I am by you ... well I am).

and then she ran (I drove cause running and I aren't in love yet)  the ten miles home.

In the words of her brother Jon, she's a machine (but in a good way).  A machine that just keeps getting faster and more efficient.

One more month of summer and one more month till race day.  So check back with us once in a while.  We'll be here

all summer.

The Dangerous Summer Chapter 4 (catching up).

So a lot has happened since last we talked.  First up Jenn went home to Canada for 3 months ... maybe not that long, but it felt that long to those she left behind and the way she's been training she's gotten proficient at leaving people in her wake.  That said the week she left she finished her Run Less-Run Faster workout regimen, the one that had her run times/distances mapped out to the meter and timed to the second.  She followed the instructions with a Pharisaical zeal, reviewing/critiquing each day's efforts and planning the next day's workouts before bed each night.  My part as support has been to listen* as she has debriefed, analyzed, vented and re-committed herself each evening.  'Pillow talk' has become predictably mono-thematic this year.

*Mostly I've tried to stay awake -- mixed results there.  I'm getting stronger as the summer goes on, conditioning and whatnot.  Go team!

10K run for time, Old Carp Road Kanata, Ontario May 2013 

I'm not certain, but I think Jenn was shooting for a sub 50 minute time on the 10K run.  She missed it by about 30 seconds.  Had she chosen a road that was flat, instead of one that was nice to look at (but full of hills) she may have made it.  Life has its trade-offs I suppose.  Still, the time she posted is faster than any 10K I've run since training for a marathon (back at the end of the last century), so great job and she's still running (always running).

Great day, great ride, beautiful canyon, only thing missing is my once stalwart ride partner.

As for me, I've done a lot of solo-riding.  Solitary canyon climbs, lonesome descents and lots of one man 'selfie' photos at the summit.  A standing joke we have anytime an activity or obligation disrupts our normal schedule (especially time we would have otherwise spent together) is that  "______ (fill in the blank) is ruining our marriage."  Tri-training is not ruining our marriage but it has deprived me of quality saddle time with my favourite ride companion.

As for the race calendar, the first 'big' event has come and gone.  Rockwell Relay Moab to St George was perhaps not an unmitigated success but incredibly fun (as always) and Team Chain Whipped made a respectable showing.  Of the 100* hundred teams that signed up, we finished 50th.  Nothing flashy, just solidly in the 'meaty part' of the bell shaped curve as George Costanza may have said.  We did manage to to shave a full two hours off our best finish ever.  So Kudos for that, but we left plenty of room to improve.  It remains the event I most look forward to every year.  Barring unforeseen injury or misfortune I'll be back for it in 2014.

*That includes all teams competitive, co-ed and (new category for 2013) non-competitive, in other just here for fun, teams.  Trim it back to only men's competitive category teams and we begin to slide down the negative side of that curve (signifantly as the statisticians would point out). 

Rodney grinding his way out of the Lake Powell Abyss, battling massive heat, brutal headwinds and vanquishing longtime nemesis Rick (formerly of Team Sasquatch) once and for all in the process.  Now that's the way you Captain a team.

Which brings us to:

Anniversary Ride 2013

On July 10th 2010 Jennifer and I dropped the kids off with some supportive in-laws and spent the day climbing the Alpine loop.

We had such a great time (and it was such an easy and affordable anniversary gift) that we did it again the next summer.  Big Mountain climb on that occasion and then in 2012, to celebrate twenty years together, we did the Gran Fondo of Ottawa:

One hundred plus miles of gorgeous (and mostly flat) Canadian countryside.  Just a leisurely jaunt with about a thousand other like minded riders.  One of the funnest rides I've done, and easily the fastest.

This year (as noted above) Jennifer's heart has wandered from (but not completely abandoned) the bike. So in the spirit of embracing tradition while respecting her newfound interests we decided to trek to Bear lake to re-con the cycling race route.  Also to give Jennifer a chance to try out her new equipment: namely the tri suit and wet suit purchased at a discount by our good friend and former Backcountry employee Matt.  Thanks Matt, you're a mensch.  The tri-suit is very similar to her cycling kit (albeit with a comparatively insubstantial chamois), it's the wetsuit that requires 'race conditions' practise.  Just watching Jenn don said wetsuit was tiring and sort of made me wish I hadn't committed to fifty miles of cyclig.  The experience was like watching someone being slowly swallowed by a snake.  I've used time lapse photography to shorten the 45* minute process for you.

*Give or take :)

First in are the feet/ankles

 then the lower legs to mid thigh (getting tighter now)

In goes the hips, and now the torso (and the claustrophobic, defenseless feeling of having your arms trapped at your side)

Just the neck and shoulders left

and voilà!

You're ready to stroll down to the beach for some last minute hair adjustment, and goggle placement. Then it's just you and the lake.

"Always do what you are afraid to do." -George Bernard Shaw

For most people a triathlon of any distance is a non-starter.  It's a lot of training and requires a level of dedication and commitment most people are unwilling or unable to make.  For Jenn, the biggest  hurdle between her and becoming a (half) iron(wo)man was swimming a mile in open water.  The hundred mile drive just to ride another fifty is 90% about her overcoming this phobia and 10% about getting a workout on the bike.

And so with a final backwards glance, our intrepid, would be be tri-athlete heads out into the deep ...

Only it's not deep, at least not for the first several hundred meters.  I actually chatted up a guy on a tri bike that I came upon on a recent commuter ride to work.  He had done the Bear Lake Tri several times and said one of the great things about it is that 3/4 of the swim is in water that's less than four feet deep.  Good news for Jenn's still developing swim-psyche.

After a swim it's on to the transition area (on this occasion the back bumper of our trusty Honda Odyssey).  Thankfully, from a race perspective, extricating oneself form a wetsuit is a much simpler and far less time consuming process getting inside it.  In a matter of minutes Jenn is bike ready.

We head out onto the flattest 20 mile stretch of road west of the state of Kansas.   Weather conditions called for NW (the direction we start in) wind at ~10mph.  If we're really hitting a headwind it's not slowing us down a bit.  As I recall in the lead up to this ride there was a minor disagreement in philosophy and purpose of said ride.  Jenn wanted a leisurely reconnaissance of the road she was to ride, I wanted to push her some, give her a feel of what it would take effort-wise to finish the bike portion of the tri in under 3 hours.  I don't know that we had fully hashed out our differences of opinion prior to rolling out.  I figured we'd take it easy going into the wind and shoot for a strong finish/negative split at the end.  But as I started marking successive sub fifteen minute five mile splits I realized we might be able to knock the entire 56 miles out at a twenty mile per hour average at about 2:45:00; a serious feather in any cyclist's cap (and a good workout for me, even if it is on flat roads).  I tuck my head, get down into the drops and push a little harder to see if Jenn will stick with me.  She does, no complaints, just pedaling.

I make the mistake of leaving the camera at home, we're relying on Jenn's iphone for ride portraits.  Quality of photos decreases inversely with the level of difficulty of using the camera(phone).

Jenn realizes I'm a patch of rough pavement away from destroying the screen on her phone and tells me to cool it.  Visual documentation of the ride takes a serious hit.  Just as well, we've got a lot of road to cover and we're making great time.  Photography will just slow us down.  I'm tracking our progress every five miles but I have Jenn hit a one half split at the twenty eight mile mark.  We've covered half the route in just an hour and twenty minutes (and change) at ~21.4 mph avg.  Great numbers but as we round the Northeast corner of the lake at mile thirty, the once flat stretch of tarmac becomes decidedly hilly and the anticipated tailwind never materializes.  It's at this point that I begin thinking back to last night's Tour de France stage, the one in which team Cannondale buried themselves for almost the entire 200km from Albi to Montpellier  to give Peter Sagan the stage seven win. It was an inspiring performance and I channel my inner domestique to bring my team leader home.  Only my team leader has dropped off the back end.  Jenn ran ten miles yesterday and her legs are letting her know all about it now.  It's one of the reasons this ride was going to be scenic, as opposed* to competitive.  

*I go back to le Tour as exhibit A in proving it can be both 

I take advantage of the gap I've accidentally created and snap a few photos roadside (no risk of cameraphone damage when you're not trying to ride a bike at the same time).

One thing this ride taught us; sunscreen should be applied at at least a hand width beyond the edge of the tri suit.  Like your carry on luggage on a flight, things shift while in the saddle (and while running I'm sure) and areas of skin you never anticipated exposing can get nicely charred over the course of a fifty mile ride or 13 mile run.  

It's possible Jenn's legs are totally cooked from her ten mile run less than twenty four hours ago,  but you wouldn't know it to look at them nor would you suspect that she was a forty two year old mother of four.  Her training has accomplished that much anyway.

"The world breaks everyone, and afterward, 
some are strong at the broken places." -Ernest Hemingway

I stop fooling around with the camera(phone) and hustle to track Jenn, who has now disappeared over the horizon and around the bend.  When I finally do catch her I give her the score:  we've covered 36 miles in just over an hour and forty five minutes, we have twenty miles left, if we can do it in an hour we can finish in 2:45:00 at over a 20 mph avg for the course. It's unrealistic to think she can do this on her own, on race day after swimming a mile and while saving energy for a half marathon still to come, but if she can avg 19 mph she can finish the race ride in three hours, making her dream (and it seemed like a dream, not terribly realistic but something to shoot for) of a six hour finish a real possibility.  I don't need to point this out to her or the fact that part of effective training is pushing yourself beyond what you thought was the breaking point to allow your muscles, your legs, your lungs to adapt and grow.  She knows these things and with no words but with a slight nod of the head she tells her loudly complaining quads to 'shut up!' (a-la Jens Voigt) and hops on my wheel for one last push to the finish.

Fifteen of the final twenty miles are the most beautiful of the ride, and though Jenn doesn't believe me, I take notice of the stunning scenery as we jet through it.  The terrain stays hilly and the the tailwind still hasn't shown up, making staying above twenty miles per hour a real challenge and now my legs have begun to join the chorus of complaints that Jennifer has dealt with for two hours now.  Jenn herself is completely silent, to the point that I shoulder check frequently to make sure she is still with me.  She is, eyes pegged on my rear wheel, pedaling with everything she's got and distracting herself from the pain by counting prime numbers or doing other math problems in her head.  I'm only assuming this last part but I know her well enough that it seems a safe bet.  One thing she isn't doing is taking in the sites (and it is beautiful, even inspiring at times).  I feel bad about this.  The rear hub of a Reynold's Carbon fiber wheel is quite pretty in its own right to anybody who loves cycling but it doesn't change much.  Once you've seen it go 'round a few times there are no more surprises.  I tell myself when she comes back to ride this on race day, drafting will be verboten (time penalty assessed if you get caught doing it), she can look around all she wants then ... Well, telling myself that eased my mind at the time.  You'd have to ask Jenn if placated her.

The southeast corner of the route becomes decidedly less attractive.  Bucolic farmlands (with accompanying farm smells) rough asphalt, pounded and potholed by farm equipment and, as we turn the corner for the home stretch, the wind finally makes its presence felt, right on our chins.   I re-double my efforts (Jenn does too cause she's right on my wheel, close as she can get) and we power through the last 6 miles.  Unfortunately most of those six miles take us past our starting point (Rendezvous Beach) and up the only consistently pitched section of pavement in this lake loop.  But we knock out the complete 1/2 Ironman distance and when I hit my Garmin at the 56 mile mark it reads 2:44:46.  Mission accomplished!  If Jenn is angry that I didn't call it quits at Rendezvous beach instead of dragging her down six extra miles of road (and climb), she keeps it to herself (mostly).

Segment Details*

Distance   49.6mi

Avg Grade   0.1%

Elev Difference   237ft

Elev Gain  1,006ft

Elapsed Time   02:26:03

Average Speed  20.4mi/h

* No Strava segment for the Bear Lake Tri course so I made my own (the ~50 mile loop of the lake segment, Rendezvous Beach to Rendezvous Beach)  Our efforts garner Jenn (yet another) QOM and place me at the bottom third of the pack on the men's side.  C'est la vie on Strava


Post ride we drive the 1/2 marathon course (more re-con) and then head to Garden City for one of the famous Bear Lake Raspberry shakes I've heard so much about.

The shakes turn out to be forgettable (I've made better in my kitchen with Costco vanilla ice cream and Emily Kesten's frozen raspberries) but the excursion proves a memorable addition to our Anniversary ride series and provides useful, maybe even invaluable, information.  Jenn has two months to apply that info. to her training and preparation.

Next up on the event calendar (almost exactly a month from now) is the Tour of Utah Ultimate Challenge on August 10th:

http://www.tourofutah.com/2013/stages/snowbasin-to-snowbird

I did some recon of my own on this ride earlier in the week.  Specifically the climb out of Park City to Guardsman pass, it made me want to cry ... more than a little.  Guess I'd better do some applied info preparation of my own.  More on this later.  Count on it.

As Always, check back with us once in a while.*  We'll be here all summer ...

*I'll try to be more diligent in my blogging

     

PS Happy 21st Anniversary to us

The Dangerous Summer Training Blog Chapter 3

It's actually beginning to feel like summer (so the blog-name doesn't sound so much like wishful thinking).  There's actually been some great riding and training weather.  Finally!  Winter seemed to hold on much too long this year.

The Spring brought an early, unanticipated event:  The River-Rail Relay from somewhere in Davis County (Roy?) to West Jordan, along bike/running paths that followed the Front Runner Traxx route and then the Jordan River.

It wasn't on Jenn's Calendar but two runners who were signed up were unable to make it, so at the last minute she (and Liz) got the call.  To say Jenn was pleased would be an understatement.  She has been training hard (mostly running) for weeks now and is seeing huge improvements in performance, form and perhaps most importantly, enjoyment.  She really, really likes running so this was a great opportunity to show her stuff.  The invite was flattering as well, like she had arrived and was now legitimately respected by her running peers.

The run went well (per Jenn, I was at work).  She covered about a half marathon distance split into two legs and averaged around a 9 min/mile and felt like she could have run all the way home from the finish line at that pace. Couldn't stop talking about it as a matter of fact.  She spent the rest of that weekend in a post runner's euphoria, eagerly anticipating the next week of training. 

The next Thursday we crewed up with our friend Skinny-Stewart (not his actual name but certainly an accurate description) for a ride up Emigration Canyon/Big Mtn.

Just Emigration for Jenn, she already ran five miles and did an hour of Yoga before the ride.

Done climbing for the day and happy about it.

(Skinny) Stew and I soldiered on and took advantage of the fact that the road over Big Mtn was clear of snow but the gate (allowing motor vehicle traffic) had not yet been opened.  Nobody out here but those of us riding on two wheels under our own power.  In a perfect world every scenic road would have a Golden Week set aside just for biking.  Failing that, we'll take what we can get.

Every bike ride with (skinny) Stew is a working ride.  He must have taken half a dozen business calls while we rode, hardly breaking cadence, if anything he rode faster while directing operations remotely.

I think it was in the middle of one of these inquiries from the office that he forgot to concentrate on dragging my tired legs up the mountain with him and he dropped me like cell call in a dead zone.  

(Skinny) Stew is still (barely) in my site line, no matter what the above photo says

The deeper I dug and the harder I tried, the farther I fell behind.  Incredibly frustrating and painful.  I pushed with everything I had and thought "I don't remember this climb hurting like this, even at the beginning of the season".  I thought maybe I had just logged a PR, even as I got worked over by a barely breathing hard (skinny) Stew.  Strava gave me no love on that front.  Five minutes slower than I was on this mountain last Memorial Day.  I was despondent and not a little worried.  Rockwell in five weeks, Ultimate Challenge in three months and LOTOJA a month after that.  Lots and lots (and still more) climbing in my future.  I was in for some long days (and huge disappointments) if something didn't change, and soon.  In desperation I went to my teammate/mentor/mechanic/coach (that enough hats for you Thad?) Thad (aka 'Juice) with my concerns.  Overtraining was his* diagnosis.  I needed time off the bike.  How much time?  A week, at least.

*Jenn pointed out to me that she has been telling me THE SAME THING! for months, maybe years now but for some reason when Thad gave voice to this idea, suddenly it was a revelation.  I can neither confirm or deny her claim and I blame the selective hearing that over 21 years of marriage we have both developed.  But to whichever of you I owe a shout out, here it comes:  Many thanks!

Jenn's rest week

My rest [week]

I lasted exactly five days, but I was circumspect,  no training other than 30 minutes of spinning and some weights.  It was maddening ... but it worked!

Free at last!

First day back on the bike I rode 54 miles with 4100 feet of climb (basically Rockwell Relay leg one) in just over 2 hrs and 54 minutes, an easy 20 minutes better than I've ever done that distance and climb in competition.  I followed that performance two days later (full rest day in between) by crushing my PR for the 25 mile (40km) Time Trial ride by a full three minutes!  That level of improvement felt surreal, like I was using somebody else's legs & lungs.  It's not that the effort didn't cost me in sweat and pain but the results were vastly better than any I had ever experienced. 

The next week we met up with (skinny) Stew again.  Big Cottonwood  Canyon this time.  I was summarily dropped (again) as soon as the road pitched above an 8% grade but this time I finished the ride within a minute of my fastest time on that climb.  I had to wait for Stewart to arrive at the mouth of the Canyon (riding in from Sugarhouse) so Jenn had about a twenty minute gap on us by the time we got underway.  Riding at what for him amounted to a leisurely pace, S-Stew caught her just past Solitude (I was about 200 yards back) and goaded her into finishing strong (and ahead of me).  I pulled to within about 20 yards of her just as we pedaled past the Guardsman turnoff, then the road pitched uber-steep for the last quarter mile.  Jenn toyed with me for a bit (or so it seemed from my vantage point) then dropped the hammer and pulled away to finish about ten seconds before me.

All in all a pretty good day.

Next up:  final prep for The Rockwell Relay Moab to St George and Jenn [writes] her final exam in her Run Less Run Faster course:  An all-out 10K* run on the friendly (and oxygen rich), shady lanes of Kanata, Ontario.   

*Maybe one of my friendly Canadian in-laws will be kind enough to get me some photo/video documentation of the event?

Check back with us every once in a while.  We'll be here (all summer).