Flying Wheels: DNF

I always thought it would be cool to be on the injured reserve.  To be the guy on the sidelines in street clothes looking cool.  Enjoying the game without actually having to do anything.  I’m not the most competitive guy in the world.  And thus far in life, I’ve been pretty fortunate to not have any major injuries.  But even my DNF on Flying Wheels taught me how bad of a feeling it is to not be able to participate in or finish something you set out to do.

Currently, I am in training to participate Seattle to Portland (STP).  It is an annual event where cyclists ride their bikes from (wait for it) Seattle to Portland over the course of one or two days. Thus far, my training hasn’t gone to well.  For about a month of my training plan, I didn’t even have the ability to transport my bike to local courses.  Plus, I just haven’t set aside the appropriate amount of time training.  To get up to 100 miles for two consecutive days, you need to repeatedly spend the better part of both of your weekend days cycling for the weeks in advance of the event.  Add to that the fact that I didn’t register in time to get a guaranteed slot and I was just about ready to call it quits.

A friend of mine, Vaibhav  is really into cycling.  Knowing of my interests in STP, he challenged me to participate in Flying Wheels.  It was a Thursday evening when he challenged me for the Saturday even.  I felt like if I could do the 65 mile variant of the hilly event, I’d be good to go for the more flat STP.  Then at the tail end of a cold, I figured, I’d be back to full strength by Saturday morning.
So Saturday, I woke up, and packed my bag with the following:

- foot long subway sandwich for two meals,
- cliff bar
- bottle of water
- Gatorade G series (primer goo to start, electrolyte drink for later in the event, protein drink for after)
- long sleeve shirt/pants if I got cold
- a 2nd shirt for after the event (the first would be soaked with sweat by the time I was done)

The last thing I heard before crossing the start line was a volunteer tell me, ‘we’ll have an ice cold beer waiting for you at the finish line’.

I’m really glad I went.  It was a beautiful day.  I believe it got up to about 70 degrees Fahrenheit.  Plus, the course, starting in Redmond’s Marymoor park and winding through carnation, Monroe, and then back south, was chock full of scenic views.  Taking all of this in is one of the best parts of cycling.

What this course taught me is that distance means nothing.  I could have done the flat stretches, rolling hills, and valleys indefinitely.  However, a few hundred feet up a steep incline was brutal.  I guess I hadn’t really thought about it much, but bikes naturally roll down hills.  That’s great for going down a hill, but going up it, you are working just to stay still.  The first hill got me good.  But I quickly learned how to pace myself better, humbly use the lower gears of my bike, and take advantage of a decline before a hill.

I’d even prefer pedaling through a flat stretch over a steep declining hill.  You can get going really fast down a hill.  If it is too steep, I use my brakes to keep in control.  It doesn’t take much knock you off balance.  One time I got lucky.  When I was flying down a hill, I noticed a pothole too late and had to brace for it and take it.  Luckily, it didn’t throw me off of my bike.

Unfortunately, a second pothole that I didn’t catch in time is ultimately what did me in.  Somewhere around the 24th mile, I looked down and again saw a pothole that I didn’t have enough time to respond to.  I thought I survived it, but my bike started making a funny sound.  Next thing I know, I started to hear a hissing.  So I jumped off my bike and found not one, but two flat tires.

You may not have noticed this, but my packing list did not include anything to fix a flat tire.  My bike is fairly new and I figured I could just chance it that I wouldn’t run into any problems.  Further, even if I did have the tube that I needed, I’d be at the mercy of whatever nice stranger I could find that would be generous enough to stop.  I hadn’t taken the time to learn how to change a tire.  So in other words: I was short.

Thankfully, the organizers of the event had thought through such scenarios.  They had volunteers in cars with ham radio operators patrolling the course.  That’s pretty impressive when you figure that it was a 100 mile main course with branching paths for the shorter routes.  The volunteers were super friendly.  I hope I didn’t come off to untoward.  I tried my best to keep up with the polite small talk, but realizing my day was over put me in a sour mood.

The car ride back to the parking lot couldn’t have felt any longer.  As my race day high faded, so did my feeling of invincibility.  I spent about a third of the ride coughing up a lung.  I didn’t appreciate the gorgeous mid-spring day that we were having.  Instead, I focused on the packs of cyclists enjoying the course.  Or, the rest stops where cyclists got to know one another, compared notes on the last few miles, and discussed strategy for the next stretch.  The last thing I saw from the window of the Subaru was the finish line that I would not cross.  There would be no ice cold beer for me to enjoy.

As I carried my bike across the parking lot, I finally truly understood the passion that people, including myself, have for these types of events.  So not being able to participate in or complete a challenge you set for yourself hurts.  Once I found my car, I Marymoor Park rather abruptly.

Once home I took a power nap then headed out to my favorite triathlon shop, Speedy Reedy.  I fixed the flats, picked up some repair parts, and had a long discussion with one of the techs on proper bicycle maintenance.  I’m a Scorpio and I like revenge, so YOU KNOW what I’m doing next June!

Links

Flying Wheels: http://www.cascade.org/EandR/flying/FW_Details.cfm