Winter Update, a Cloudride count down.

I haven't died, I still ride, and I still write. My computer did die, my tablet is on its last leg, and I don't have any internet other than on my phone, which is new.

 

So where has the winter gone? It feels like yesterday that I began training again in preparation for the Monaro Cloudride. The truth is, I've been in this training swing for nearly 3 months already. This winter has been very cold, very snowy, and far less than optimal for bike riding, especially for long hours. The snowmobile trails have been pretty well groomed, allowing for decent riding, but these temps have had me limited to 4-5 hours on most days. I've been getting a lot of 2-4 hour rides in after work under artificial light. Several times I've consideredgoing for over night winter bikepacking trips, but after long days in the cold on ski patrol, sleeping outside is amongst the last things that sound like fun. When the weather truly pins me inside, I spend as much time as I can tolerate on the trainer. Typically not much more than 2 hours before I go stir crazy. I've been pretty good about getting out to ride in the mornings as well, although lately most mornings have been spent on the trainer. I definitely have a few mornings each week where I just can't manage to get our of bed at 4 am to get a ride of any sort in before work.

 

"Winter training is finding the fine line between improvement and not killing yourself before the race season. It's like roasting a marshmallow. Light golden brown and delicious, or bursting into flame. Once you see the flames., there is no going back..."

-Seamus Powell

 

The snow has been great, for skiing. The soft layers have been kind to my knees, although the combination of riding and skiing constantly keeps me on the edge of painful tendinitis. If I didn't have a race planned I think I would put the bike away for a while and spend more time hiking for fresh turns on skis. I'm not saying I wouldn't ride, but I would change my priority.  Vermont hasn't seen temperature above freezing for already a month now, and I am certainly ready for spring.

 

The anticipation is rising, time is counting down quickly. For a shake down ride I have chosen to ride the Trans North Georgia Route. 350 miles, with considerable climbing. At this point I am only planning on riding it one direction, and getting a shuttle back, but a down and back is not out of the question if everything goes extremely well. After the TNGA, I come back to work for two weeks, and then move out of my apartment, and fly out to the land down under on March 30th, starting Cloudride on April 4th.

 

I wouldn't say I feel as good as I could, but I've stayed pedaling and fighting, against the will of old man winter. As Greg LeMan said, "It never gets easier, you just go faster." I'm not looking for easy, I just hope it's fast enough.

A search for the limit.

Mostly just questions I ask myself, and some numbers:

How far can you push yourself before you break? When you think you break, did you really just brake? As I struggle to motivate myself to push harder in training, I cannot help but imagine how far I can actually push myself. Im pretty sure that at this point in my life, it is clear I will never be a true 'world class' athlete, or someone who makes a living off of a sport. That may sound grim and like I'm giving up, but I'm just trying to keep it real, I have every intent to continue to push myself and improve my own strength, pace, and skill.

My longest single day ride to date is 210 miles, about 140 paved and flatish, and 170+ mile days before and after (Pie Town day in TD.) Just 2 years ago I had never ridden a century. Bikepack racing has so many more factors than mileage, and time in the saddle for that matter. Terrain, climbing, sustainability, fuel and water supply, etc. I must sadly admit I have never raced a 24 hour race, but it is certainly on my list. Lets take it a step farther; do 48 hour races exist? What length of race must riders start to plan to sleep or camp? I haven't looked at specific names, mileages and times, but bikepack racers everywhere are pushing the envelope with sleep deprivation and impressive durability. With so many ultras* having nothing but bragging rights for prizes, what is motivating riders to push so hard?

Let's throw The Munga into the discussion. 1000k, $1,000,000, yes, One MILLION Dollar purse. I'm not saying I can win it, I may never have the opportunity to try with a $10,000 entry, but I am pretty sure that given another year of training with motivation, I could ride 1000k without sleeping. It is exciting to think about pedaling essentially continuous for that long, but I'm not convinced that would be the fastest tactic. Does the turtle or the rabbit win this race? Safety aside (yes riding 620+ miles non-stop could potentially cause some bodily harm) a few hours rest in between two triple+ centuries may be the solution, or maybe take two brief naps and split the race into double century segments.

With Cloudride 1000 as my current goal, I am trying to train as though it has a 6 figure podium payout, but I can't even wrap my head around that kind of money. My motivation is purely unfounded. I got into this stuff for the same reason we all did: we love to ride our bikes for a really long time, and we like to find our limits, and see how our limits stack up against those of others. My mind has just shifted from chasing double century weekends to double century days, back to back, (to back?) What about the triple century? On a road bike I can honestly say I think I could do one without too much struggle. Its not hard, all you need to do is pedal farther, right?

*Ultra: My definition: Multiple day, single stage race

Training plan, in a nutshell.