Wine Country Century

I’m putting my Christmas and birthday money to good use. I signed up for another Century. Actually I’m riding a double metric century, which ends up being about 120 miles. The route sounds pretty flat, with only 4 – 5k feet of climbing. I don’t drink wine, so I hope it’s not a prerequisite for the event. Oh well if so. I’ll be the only teetotaler out there. I have till May 2 to get ready.

I have now signed up to meet one of the goals in the "Goals List" of the 1/16/09 posting. If all goes well this should be a decent training ride for the Death Ride in July - in which success will be another goal achieved.

What to Wear

I've never been a very good judge of exactly what to wear to most appropriately meet the capricious nature of cool weather rides and my thirst for significant variations in altitude during such rides.

Saturday morning Vince and I met at the train trestle at 8:00 am and rode the Crocket loop in pretty good time. The air was cold to start the morning, which always creates a wardrobe dilemma, especially when the afternoons are destined to be warm. I opted for shorts and knee warmers, a sleeveless t-shirt under my long sleeve jersey and a windbreaker. The bandana and long fingered gloves supplemented the helmet and cycling gloves.

It worked out nearly perfect. By the time I met up with Vince, I had climbed over the Shell St. hill, and was ready to take off the windbreaker. Once done, I was content to feel the 40 degree air through my jersey, but suspected the descents from our 2 climbs would be chilly. They were, but I was done with the windbreaker for the day. Following the 20 mile loop, I headed for Mt. D while Vince headed to finish some chores. I followed a familiar route across the west side of the Diablo Valley, and finally lost the knee warmers and gloves starting my ascent around 10:00 am.

I had a reasonable climb ahead of me and soon decided that I should have braved the cold earlier and chosen a short sleeved jersey. 1 hour 30 minutes from the North entrance to the top. I blame the less than spectacular results on being out of the saddle for so much this winter, and for riding 90% of the way in 2^nd gear.

Why in 2^nd gear? I don’t know. I got started feeling good, looked down and saw I still had one gear to go, and decided not to go there. It most certainly felt like the mountain got steeper, but I have no idea whether or not it helped my climbing ability, endurance, or muscle strength. It did get me passed by 2 cyclists near the top. However, their combined bikes, attire, and gear probably cost more than our Honda, so I’m fairly certain they were professionals or something like that.

The sun and a stiff breeze were in competition at the top of the mountain, so I positioned myself so as to give the sun as much advantage as possible. I slipped the long gloves back on after refilling 2 water bottles and headed for home. The windbreaker would have been nice on the way down, but one gets weary of the flapping, and the temperature relates inversely to the altitude.

Home in just over 4.5 hours for the 66 miles and approx. 5.5k feet of climbing. No sweat. I mean literally, I got home dry though hydrated, which means that I was dressed just about right, and the pre-spring air was feeling splendid.

Muddy Tracks

We’ve been running and hiking to stay in shape through the winter. The trails are muddy, the days are short, and the weather has been cold and rainy. Both the mountain bike and the road bike wince every time I open the shed door. They know what I’m thinking. I understand the trepidation. I’m not much fond of road rash either.

However, the mountain bike and I made a pact the other day, and we set off from the house for an hour ride through Briones to meet up with the others for our Tuesday trail run. My favorite women were going to drive up into the park to walk with some other ladies, so my bike was promised a ride home on the back of the Pilot.

Once I reached the park, and started up into the hills, the trails were predictably mucky. Very few bike tracks cut through the frequent slimy sections, but the equestrian and bovine traffic has been heavy. The trails are trashed. I managed to the top without stepping off, but only because of some rather narrow hard packed detours skirting the worst areas.

I reached our rendezvous just minutes before the group began to arrive; Phyllis, My wife and daughter, and finally Vince, Rachel, and the Black Dog. Vince and I ran a loop, taking us along both single track and fire roads, till we met up with the walker / joggers near the top of the park. The ladies had taken turns pushing Ella in the jogging stroller, often two at a time to make it up some of the hills. Boy was I glad I didn’t have to push her.

In all, we were out for just over an hour and covered probably 5 and 3 miles respectively. My quads were rather put out from riding and then running the painfully steep slopes. Bec found some new muscles on that hike, but Ella seemed no worse for the bouncing and jostling. Although, they say she did hike a fair portion of it herself.

We finished in the dark.

My bike breathed an almost visible sigh of relief as it was fastened securely to the bike rack.

3 days later – Friday, we went out again, with a similar group. No running this time. It ended up being basically a walk in the park. 5 year old Ella managed the majority of the 3 mile hike on foot. I pushed the stroller the whole time, empty and occupied. Vince was busy trying out his new video camera. Lots of mud.

Last night it was just Vince, Rachel, and Black Dog along with Bec, Ella, and myself. Vince and I attempted the Briones summit, but had to turn back at 40 minutes in order to make it back in the agreed upon 1 hour. It is likely that we actually found the steepest possible ascent. We managed to run, or maybe trot is a better definition, 99% of the way. Some areas were just too steep and slick to keep it up. Running down is a scream. I’m still sore today. Lots more mud.

Speaking for myself and my family, it has been a good winter so far. I have thoroughly enjoyed running the trails. It’s a bonus having my women so close too, as we share in a little adventure a couple of times each week.

I'm getting good at vacuuming out the Pilot.

Goals

US Postal Service team leader Lance Armstrong reacts as he crosses the finish line to win the 15th stage of the Tour de France cycling race between Valreas, southern France, and Villard-de-Lans, French Alps, Tuesday, July 20, 2004. Armstrong was honored Monday Dec. 27, 2004 as The Associated Press Male Athlete of the Year for the third straight year. Armstrong joined Michael Jordan (1991-93) as the only athletes selected by sports writers and broadcasters three straight times since the honor was first awarded in 1931. AP / File Augusta Chronicle 12/27/04

We're supposed to have goals, right?
(My wife would recommend that I place the word "reasonable" in that sentence somewhere, I'm sure)
So, I'm laying out some that I've been considering for this year.
I in no way think that at the end of this year I will return to this post and compare reality with these hopes. This is just an opportunity to wander through the possibilities.


First, a story about a goal.
In August of '08 I posted about a dismal ride up Mt. Diablo. It was painful. The only worse pain I've had on the bike, was a bone chilling descent from the same mountain at the end of '07, which I have not forgotten. There was no choice concerning the descent - I wasn't about to spend the night on that mountain wearing sweaty spandex.

The climb 3/4 of a year later was optional - and grueling.

I never would have finished, if I hadn't set a goal. I had determined to make it my fastest time to the top of the mountain, which meant I had to reach the summit.
Not even 3 miles into the 11 mile climb, it was obvious that the secondary goal, "a best time ever" was a dream and likely to be more like a nightmare. Just surviving all the way to the top was becoming a perilous prospect. However, with half of the objective already deceased, the other approached a temporary obsession.

There were a variety of factors working against me that afternoon, and the sum of them was enough to create doubts about my sanity moving forward. This 3000'+ climb had become routine, so it would have been inconsequential to miss just once. However, I had set a goal to reach the top of the mountain, so I pressed on through clammy crawling skin, dizziness, and nausea. I had bonked, hit the wall, blew up, and any or all of a number of other ways of saying I was spent, all in, toast, and wasted. The climb was miserable.

Notwithstanding, and much later than anticipated, my goal was achieved. And as always, it was worth it. Not because I felt so good, or because there was anyone there to laud and praise, but rather because quitting feels so bad.


Lance Armstrong has a quote:
“Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever.”

My wife found this quote poster size, with a picture of Lance and framed it for my office. I actually think of it often.

In the first Century AD the Apostle Paul, prior to his demise, was led by the Spirit of God to write, "I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith:" in reference to finishing this life in good standing with the God of the universe.

Now that's a goal. That's finishing well. That's refusing to quit. That's what I want to be able to say.




List of Goals - (Many of which aren't nearly as important as the previous paragraphs may have led you to anticipate.)

1. Ride one of the bikes at least once per week.
2. Run / ride at least twice a week.
3. Ride to the top of diablo four times in one day - at least once this year.
4. Finish all 5 passes on the Death Ride.
5. Replace my 10+ year old bike before the Death Ride.
6. Get Dave and Pastor to the top of Mt. Diablo on their bikes at least once.
7. Get my daughter proficient enough to ride her bike along with Bec and I while we walk.
8. Ride at least one organized century other than the Death Ride.
9. Swim in the warm Atlantic Ocean.
10. Ski at least twice this winter.
11. Make a list of my personal and spiritual goals somewhere else where others won't read them.

Death Ride - Registration Success

"Beginning and ending at Turtle Rock Park just north of Markleeville, California, the five pass ride includes 129 miles and 15,000+ feet of lung busting climbing."

http://www.deathride.com/info.html


I've never ridden this ride, but everyone talks about it. I feel a little left out among my cohort to be honest.
Lord willing - this is my year.

Evidently the registration process is different this time around, as all of the registration is first come first served on 2 pre-selected days via the ride's web site.

Today was the second day. First try I got in, paid my $102.18, and secured my position as rider in "One of the premier cycling events in the west."

Vince tried the first day, and then again today. Bummer - no go. He will find tickets on E-bay or Craig's List.
Training began today - in my mind if nothing else. Will keep you posted.

First Ride 2009

9 hours into 2009 we started our first ride of the year.
All of the Diablo Valley has been socked in with fog for several days, and Thursday, January 1 was no exception. The temperature was in the low 40's when we left the truck near the base of Mt. Diablo. Vince and I immediately met up with Mickey, and within only a mile, had caught up with another group of riders, most of which were friends or acquaintances of Vince and / or myself. Our group of over half a dozen began the cool ascent through a stagnant mist. The group was taking its time getting to the top, and I was personally in no hurry to ride alone. At around 2000' we started seeing the sun peek through the fog, and then rather abruptly, we were above it, being dazzled by fluffy white drifts.

The number of riders on the mountain was astounding. I literally had to wake Vince up to get him out, and figured that would be the general consensus of the balance of Bay Area riders. Not so. We were many. There may have been a couple hundred on the mountain just during the couple of hours we were there.

No records were broken, except for maybe the most times off the bike during one ride up the mountain, or longest descent as we coasted through the thickening layer of pea soup hovering around 2000'

I had to rush the end of the ride, as I had promised my wife to be home by 11:30 to help remove the turkey from the oven. I didn't make it on time, but did get there soon enough to keep her from attempting the baking bag removal procedure on her own.

I've managed to post this only 2 weeks late, but nevertheless am looking forward to a great year of cycling and blogging.

The Fog is Lifting

Photo courtesy of Ethan Parrott of SC.


I started this post over a week ago, thinking I would give a more detailed report of the last week.
I have found that I can’t give it much thought at this time.

Our Christmas season has had some unexpected turns.
The short version is this. My wife and I were expecting our second child. At just over 19 weeks we went to the ultrasound which was to determine the gender of the baby.

We received news at that time, that our child was already in Heaven. Not that our doctor thought our child was in heaven – as he tried to comfort us with talk of bad luck and cosmic rays. His delusion – and I wasn’t in the frame of mind to set him straight. All I could say was "There is a God, and He is sovereign." Smart as he was, the doctor seemed clueless on those 2 points.

We spent the next 2 days at the hospital grieving and waiting for our child to be delivered. We were overwhelmed by the love and support from our church and other friends.
We chose to induce the delivery, so that we would be able to see our baby, and hold our baby. 1:25 am of the second day, Friday Dec. 12, she delivered a 10 oz 10.5” baby boy. We named him Ezekiel, which means “God Strengthens.” He most certainly has.

We arranged and held a funeral which was attended by many of our friends and family. His body now lies in a cemetery in Concord, CA. But, we know that he is actually more alive than ever in the presence of our Good God.
I have avoided the obvious question of “why.” I don’t know why. In the grand scheme of things, my experience is actually minor compared to the sorrow of so many. That doesn’t help me any though. The only thing that really helps, is the consolation, that someday I will meet and shake hands with the man that is my son. He will walk me through the gardens and mountains of a new home. He may even be the one to re-introduce me to other loved ones who have been there long before him.
I have the assurance that in Christ, all are made alive.

It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow. Lots of talk about a baby named Jesus right around now. For the record, He didn’t stay a baby. He lived a life not unlike ours. Political upheaval, religious intolerance, just making ends meet. The difference was, He didn’t have to be here. He chose a birth canal as His entrance into the world He had created. He lived with pain and the frustrations of life knowing that on a divinely predetermined day, he would be executed for “crimes” he never committed.

That was the only way. That was the key that unlocked eternity. A key shaped like a cross.

Not everyone enters eternity with the confident expectation of eternal peace and joy. Jesus offers that as a free gift.

Do I fully understand it – No. Do I believe it – Yes.