Big century

This is one end of the Juneau road: Berner's Bay, North mile 40.

This is the other end: Thane, South mile 6.

Of course I rode past this point.

It's beautiful out there.

Then again, it's beautiful everywhere.

It was my new odometer's first day.

Date: Jan. 26
Mileage: 100.3
January mileage: 784.4
Temperature upon departure: 29

Today was my "long" training ride before the Susitna 100, and it went really well. I planned to stay out for 10 hours, but after 9:08 I had pretty much run out of road, and I felt pretty good about having 100 miles in the base anyway. I didn't do an extra spur to push my mileage over 100. Riding from my house to one end of the road and then back to the other is really exactly 100 miles.

The best part about today's ride is that any given hour was not any more or less arduous than the next. That's when I know I'm in a good endurance state of mind. During my 80-mile ride last week, I pretty much crashed and had to limp the last 10 miles. But today I ate much better (about 1,200 calories. Huge for me during a ride, and a good amount, too, I think.) And I felt strong the whole time. As I was riding back from Thane, I thought about how I felt fairly similar to the way I feel when I ride that road from my house - when it's just a 15-mile ride. Today I felt just as upbeat and excited about the setting - a calm, moonlit evening with the lights of Douglas sparkling across the channel - as I would on any good day, despite the fact that I already had more than 90 miles behind me. Like I said - a great endurance state of mind. I'm not always blessed with it, but when it settles in, I feel like I can turn the pedals indefinitely.

Today I also eclipsed my highest-mileage month of 2006 - it was July, at 710 miles. January 2007 would be my highest mileage month ever, except for I did that cross-country bike tour in 2003, and it's going to be pretty hard for me to ever beat 1,600 miles. I guess it doesn't hurt to dream, though.

I'd like to thank the academy ...

Date: Jan. 25
Mileage: 32.0
January mileage: 684.1
Temperature upon departure: 31

So I was all set to log on this evening and write a quick post about what an idiot I am, when I checked the Web stats like a do all the time occasionally, and discovered that this humble little blog made it as a finalist of one of the categories of the 2007 Bloggies!

I bet you'll never guess the category.

Seriously. It would have never occured to me. But I'll keep you in suspense until the end of this post, because my story today adds a few sprinkles of irony.

For all of the cycling I've done, and for all of my cold-weather cycling experience, I still occasionally make some spectacularly stupid mistakes. Today I hoped to do a little trail riding, so I hauled my fat-tired-but-studless snowbike up the stairs to find our front driveway coated in a solid sheet of glare ice. If this wasn't an obvious enough warning sign, I should have also taken into account the heavy rainfall that literally flooded most of the side streets yesterday, and the fact that the temperatures dropped below freezing shortly after the storm and stayed there. But I didn't. Snaux bike has been so burly in so many winter cycling situations that it's made me a little complacent. Studded tires? Who needs them? I headed down the road.

The streets were fairly trecherous, but I figured riding a few solid trails up north would more than make up for a little tentitive road riding. I remembered to keep my butt on the seat and never hit the brake. I rode slowly and methodically. When I hit the bike path, the surface changed to a smooth, translucent, 1/2"-thick sheet of ice. I was going along at a pretty good clip when I saw one of my co-workers, Korry, walking ahead. I'd recognize his hat anywhere. So I thought - hey, I'll stop and say hi to Korry. Without even really assessing the situation, I turned the wheel a little to the left and pressed lightly on the brake. I saw Korry's face as he stopped to turn toward that sound he heard, that horrible scraping sound, and the suddenly, the landscape lurched sideways. I felt both wheels kick violently to the left and launch skyward. For that split-second we were airborn, that quiet moment that carries the calm acceptence of impending disaster, so focused in a tunnel of silence that I'm certain I actually heard Korry gasp, so calm that my body went limp. Then I slammed like a lead-weighted rag doll on the ice, right shoulder first, then hip, then head. I could hear Korry yelling. And then I heard him say, "Jill?"

So embarrassing. One of those moments in which it didn't matter if I was physically hurt or not. My ego was crushed. I jumped back up, dragging my bike beside me. "No worries," I called out. "I'm a complete clutz. Happens all the time!"

I later spent several minutes in the bathroom of a Safeway examining my shoulder to make sure it wasn't mildly dislocated or otherwise injured. It's just bruised, but it did hurt. I still finished my ride, because I wasn't actually injured. But I finished it with focus, and with respect. And I know, I know. "Jill, BE CAREFUL." It's not really the kind of mistake you need to make twice. Even though it's a much slower and less snow-worthy machine, my studded-tire mountain bike is probably going to start seeing a lot more use. Starting tomorrow, which I have slated to be my longest training ride before the Susitna 100. I know. I'm bummed Snaux bike won't be there, too.

Oh ... and the category I've been nominated for? Best Sports Blog! Up in Alaska ... Sports Blog. It's the one-stop-blog where you can get all of your World Series of Superbowl Finals information from those in the know. It think that means I have a pretty good chance of winning, but maybe you could drop into the Bloggies and cast your vote anyway. Vote early and vote often. You guys are the greatest.

Cold and wet

Date: Jan. 24
Mileage: 50.5
January mileage: 652.1
Temperature upon departure: 35

Today I had the perfect shot lined up. A small window of sunlight had broken through the clouds and cast filtered sunlight directly on the Mendenhall Glacier. The result was a blaze of blue so brilliant that it looked like it had been painted on by some overzealous Technicolor artist, flowing indiscriminately from ice to sky. I rode my bike a ways down the trail where bikes weren't allowed, pulled up next to the lake, and unpacked my Camelbak. I removed my camera from its four ziplock bags, pointed the viewfinder at that idealistic Antarctic scene, and click ... nothing. I had left my camera battery at home. I was pretty upset about it. Really. I had a pretty serious sulk going on. I nearly just turned around and went home right there. But then I thought better of it. And I rode for three more hours. And all was right with the world.

Today was a wet day. A wet day. If it were actually scientifically possible to make water any wetter than it already is, that was today. Last year, I dealt more often with very cold temperatures - down to negative-double-digits with wind chills down to negative-kill-me-now. But I have to say, mild cold and wet is a very different problem. A more vexing problem, in many ways. Anyone can eventually figure out how to stay warm in the dry cold - wearing a lot of layers can often be enough. But once you're wet, even 10 layers of polar fleece aren't going to change that fact.

I think I have finally come to a decent solution. It's not about staying dry, because that's impossible. It may be possible for 30 minutes. It may even be possible for an hour, if you have a good rubber suit. But for 4-5 hours, no way. That water is coming in and up and back out from every direction, complete inundation, for hours on end. So, I ask myself, how do people stay warm when they go swimming in cold water? Therein, I'm much closer to a solution.

One of the best things I've done is minimize the layers. The less soggy layers you can get away with, the better. I bought these polar tights from Nashbar, and they're all I wear beneath my 'waterproof' rain pants, which really just serve as wind blockers. For my feet, I finally purchased a good pair of Neoprene socks - NRS Titanium .3mm socks. I wear those with a thin pair of liner socks, a small pair of track running shoes and my Neoprene booties. The double Neoprene layer is toasty. I could swim all day in that. On my torso I only wear a thin liner shirt, one fleece layer and a plastic shell. It's entirely plastic but has vents under the arms, which, of course, just let tons of water in. But it also seems to do a good job of keeping heat it, and blocking wind. Then I wear a thin fleece balaclava ... they're as warm wet as dry, I think. Today, I tried those "handlebar mitt" pogies. I started with thin gloves but had to go down to bare hands because they were so warm. I actually hadn't been able to keep my hands warm in the wet weather yet, even with Neoprene kayak gloves, but the pogies work like a dream. I rode for a little more than four hours today, and they managed to stave off nearly all of the water. The fabric works like tent fabric, I think - it won't leak through until you touch it, and they're so big and loose that they make a little tent over my hands.

In short, after five months, I think I have found my wet weather solution. And it's a little closer to a wetsuit than I'd like to admit.

Nice surprise

Date: Jan. 23
Mileage: 25.1
January mileage: 601.6
Temperature upon departure: 31

Today I received a couple of crucial packages. The first was from Dave Nice in Denver, who donated a Thermarest Z-Lite sleeping pad and dry bag to my Susitna 100 cause. As an added bonus, he also sent me the December issue of Modern Drunkard magazine and a bicycle patch. Now I have nearly everything I need - just waiting on a bivy and a couple more random things. Thanks Dave!

I also received my order from Cabela's. I finally bought a pair of pogies, or actually "handlebar mitts." I learned about these from another Dave. They're made for ATVs and snowmobiles, but a handlebar is a handlebar. These have built-in chemical handwarmer holders, and even come with a free pair! It's always fun to find a low-price version of some esoteric piece of gear. It's the John Stamstad school of thought - buy from K-mart, eat twinkies, and ride your ass off. These particular handlebar mitts actually come in "Advantage Timber" color as well as the black. I was very tempted to get the camo, but I don't think I really have the personality to pull off chic tacky. I think I would just come across as tacky tacky.

With these and the new pair of expedition-weight neoprene kayak socks I just found at a Juneau mall outdoor store, I think I may have finally found the best solution I'm going to for the wet-and-cold hands and feet problems I've been having. I'm excited to try them out. I have another long weekend coming up and I'm hoping for dry weather and long mileage, though I'd settle for one.

Blue Monday

Date: Jan. 22
Mileage: 33.0
January mileage: 576.5
Temperature upon departure: 29

Lots of visitors stopped by the blog today. I looked into it, and it turns out if you do a Google search for ‘depressing Blue Monday,’ this blog is second on the list.

I’m happy to have this distinction, because otherwise I would have forgotten that today was, in fact, “Blue Monday,” officially the most depressing day of the year. It’s the day when miserable weather, mounting debt, loss of the holidays, lack of motivation and stunted New Year’s resolutions finally catch up to people. So a British psychologist took all of these factors and actually created a mathematical formula to determine that yes, the third Monday in January is in fact as bad as it gets.

I like to mark Blue Monday because, regardless of what you think about randomly-well-publicized-but-otherwise-arbitrary scientific studies, it doesn’t hurt to believe that the year’s only going to look up from here. And what better way to celebrate a sad winter day than to go out for a bike ride?

I actually convinced Geoff to ride with me this morning. We stepped outside into weather that was completely unbelievable. You’d really have to live where I live to find it unbelievable. The temperature was perfect - 29 degrees - warm enough to shed a layer but not so warm it makes everything melty and sloppy. The sky was mostly cloudy, which in Juneau means “almost sunny.” And, most astonishingly, there was no wind. No wind at all. Geoff and I both agree that this was the first day since October free of all the typical factors, of which we nearly always have at least two: precipitation, wind and cold.

We set out south along a corridor lined with fresh snow piles that tumbled down the other day when the city set off a series of avalanche-control rockets. The road was so dry that we could hear our studded tires crackling on the pavement. Subdued sunlight sparkled on the water, so smooth I could see reflections of blue-hued clouds as they shifted across the sky. Geoff and I talked for a while about what the Sustina 100 will be like - the crushing pain, the endless night-lapsed day. Nothing could be further from reality on Blue Monday, when legs spin so easy its almost as if our wheels are alive.

Some cyclists call these “no chain” days - days so fast and effortless that pedaling is like spinning a crank cut loose of all resistance. I decided to head north after Geoff turned homeward. I ended up riding almost 20 more miles, despite intending to only put in a 15-mile day. Sugar coasted over the dry ice and crackling snow. It’s been a while since my mountain bike and I spent a morning together, and it seemed a good day to let him fly. I turned around when my watch told me I had to, looking back wistfully as the smokey reflection of the sun rolled lazily to the southwest. It’s days like Blue Monday that I could ride forever, and would if given the chance.

Eating disorder

Date: Jan. 21
Mileage: 29.0
January mileage: 543.5
Temperature upon departure: 35

One thing I have never figured out how to do is eat well while bicycling. It sounds so simple. Even sitting here tonight, contemplating turning the pedals and munching down some Power Bars, I think "that sounds simple enough." For some reason, it never works as well in practice. It's not that I don't want to eat. It's not that I am trying to lose a pound a day by completing 8-hour rides on a couple hundred calories (although wouldn't it be nice if it were that simple?). No ... I don't eat because my body tells me I can't.

It does this in several ways. When I'm cycling, most of my normal triggers turn off. I can ride and ride and ride, and as long as I keep riding, I will never feel hungry. My blood sugar will crash. My hands will start shaking. But I'll never feel hungry. However, I do eat, to ward off the hand shakes. In these situations, eating anything is about as much fun as chugging down Alka Seltzer. So I stick with things that are fast and easy and pack a lot of calories in small bites. I like to eat things with lots of sugar, because it digests so quickly. I stick pretty much exclusively to peanut butter sandwiches, granola/Power bars, and fruit leather/fruit snacks. I also like Gatorade, but drinking it exclusively makes me sick to my stomach. So if I only have one bottle/bladder, water it is.

All of this eating usually has the short-term positive effect of an energy surge followed by a long, debilitating stretch of nausea. I've tried some remedies to ward this off. Pepto Bismal pills; antacid pills; drinking more water after eating; drinking less water after eating; experimenting with different foods (I keep giving Gu and other gels second chances, but they usually only serve to worsen the situation because I find the texture so repulsive.) And you know what's worked best for me? PB&J, Power Bars and fruit snacks (and sometimes turkey jerky) ... the longer between doses, the better.

I have been interested in giving liquid nutrition a try. But Hammer Heed and other products are pretty expensive. I can't really afford to use them throughout my training, and it would be idiotic to pull a complete switch during a race. My attempts with Gatorade haven't been so successful. The caloric intake is still pretty small, and drinking exclusively Gatorade only seems to prolong the nauseated feeling once it hits. So I usually go for the tried and true method of avoiding food while on the bicycle. I'm sure it affects my performance, but so far, it hasn't affected my health.

One thing I've learned about eating and riding is that everyone has their own methods and foods that work for them. I'm wondering if anyone out there also has to deal with what seems to be an unfair amount of gastrointestinal stress while riding, and, if so, what do you do to get around it? I just have a sensitive tummy that was raised on a fairly sugary diet, doesn't take too kindly to digesting large amounts of fat during workouts (really ... cheese and nuts are out), and doesn't seem to know what to do with technology food with ingredients like leucine and maltodextrin (but loves loves loves caffeine.) It seems all of these traits fall outside the "normal" range, so I've never found a catch-all solution. But I keep looking.

Clipless-less

Date: Jan. 20
Mileage: 25.1
January mileage: 514.5
Temperature upon departure: 35

In a post a couple of days ago, I thought I was admitting to a fleece fetish, but instead I was confessing a woeful lack of what some consider a basic piece of essential bike gear - the clipless pedal. It must have been quite the confession, because I have since been a peripheral part of at least a couple debates.

I own three bikes - a "Roadie" that is really more of a light touring bike, a full-suspension mountain bike and a rigid big-tired mountain bike built for the main purpose of riding on snow. The first two have platform pedals with plastic cages. The "Snaux Bike" has only an oversized set of studded platform pedals and no grips. Of the three, the Snaux Bike has my favorite set-up. I find the total lack of pedal barriers freeing, especially on a bicycle where my day-to-day foot gear ranges from a small pair of indoor track shoes to a triple-sock stuffed pair of Northface winter boots buried in N.E.O.S. overboots. And the pedals are so sticky that I don't even notice a real difference in the grip-ability between those and my cage-covered pedals. Call me an idiot. If I can't find much advantage to cages, am I really going to be blown away by clipless?

But I'll concur. I've only tried clipless a couple of times, and any initial feelings of positive connectedness were quickly buried in the embarrassment and frustration of tumbling sideways when I simply wanted to stop. It was about three years ago, when I swapped bikes with a friend during a short ride. She told me I'd love it and I believed her. I fell once and she laughed at me. The second time, she seemed annoyed. The third and times thereafter, I managed to yank my feet out of the bindings. But the prospect of falling again stressed me so badly that I couldn't even focus. I spent much of the time riding unclipped, pressing down on those obnoxiously small pedals with my toes. I was still pretty new to biking, but that experience cemented a rigid aversion to clipless.

Now that three years have passed, and I have more than a passing interest in going faster, I probably should revisit the clipless pedal. But I still have a pretty limited frame in which I'm even interested in using them - only during the summer months, and only on my road bike. I can't even imagine trying to integrate them into winter cycling. First of all, I can't even clip into my cross-country ski bindings when they're really packed with icy snow. Secondly, I'd have to buy at least two different sizes of shoes to compensate for my varying thicknesses of neoprene and wool sock layers. Third, some snowy trail riding involves as much walking as cycling, and I have doubts that those skinny shoes can double as comfortable hikers. Fourth, some snowy trail riding involves as much falling as walking, and I need the confidence in my ability to bail. Fifth - in a word, overflow. I still haven't figured out a system to keep my feet completely dry in all situations. But if I was wearing clipless pedal shoes, I never would.

I know there are winter cyclists out there who use clipless pedals exclusively. Those cyclists are more hardcore than I am, and I would wager that they've had more brushes with frostbite. Besides, I like the flexibility of moving my legs and feet independently of the machine they're operating, of choosing my foot gear based on whatever suits me, of lifting both legs high in the air when I'm happy and coasting. Someday, I will make an effort to go fast. But for now, I just want to make an effort to go everywhere.