LA Marathon

Wake Up and Bike Tour
Sleeping in my own bed (or a bed at all) makes getting up at 5am a little easier. Squeeze down some leftover pasta for breakfast and hang out with the people meeting here to ride to the bike tour. Throw all my running shit in my bag. Decide to wear my running shorts under my cargo pants and forgo spandex to avoid having to change later. Roll out of the house about 8 deep heading to USC.

Bike Tour
Straight to the start! We hop in and try to stay together. Imagine the streets closed to all traffic, both directions for 23 miles. Amazing, despite the thousands of bikes that literally caused a traffic jam. It opened up and we cruised through the city running into people we knew all the way back to USC. Here we pull over just before the funnel into where they try to get you to buy shit. Jack and I head up the 25 blocks to the marathon start where I’ll lock my bike.

Marathon Start
25,000 people run the marathon. The start time was 830am. I thought it would take a decent amount of time to get them through, but when I was there at 845am or so it was only a trickle a people heading down Figueroa! Jack takes my bag, I lock my bike and strip off my clothes (well, except my running stuff) and take off. The hectic morning was probably helpful; was distracted enough to not get super nervous about the endeavor ahead. But, two things came up: probably did not eat enough beforehand and I had to pee when I started running. That sucks. Really sucks.


First Ten Miles
‘There’ll be restrooms soon. Soon. There’s got to be.’ First group of them had at least 75 people in line. Same with the second group around the second mile. Am considering peeing myself. Is my time that important? No, but the mental consequences of standing around for ten minutes are detrimental. Pushing on I hold back. Around USC I see some dudes that took to the trees to solve the urination problem. I look around for cops (cause if anyone got a ticket during a marathon it’d be me) and see none. I hit the trees nervously and pee for an ungodly amount of time. Running again I feel ten pounds lighter like the Ice Cube song. Around mile seven or eight the hunger comes on. Damn! I have two gel packs and consume one. It helps slightly, but not much. On a positive note my legs are loosening up and I try to ignore the hunger. At mile ten I see volunteers handing out Clif shots and I eat three straight away.

Miles Ten to Twenty
Calories = Energy. This was immediately apparent. Turn left on Venice Blvd and I’m feeling great, but still pacing conservatively. Mentally I am pleasantly surprised that I am doing well. Hit the halfway point (2 hrs 5 min) and see Alex! He is on his bike and rides along asking me how I am doing. Sometime after I answered my cell phone because Heather, who is running the marathon as well and helped me with my bib ‘situation’, called to see where I was. We never met up, but did see each other later at Food Not Bombs. The Angelinos along the route were fantastic, giving out fruit and cheering on runners. The best bit was through Leimart Park and up Crenshaw Blvd.

Twenty to Twenty-Six (point 2)
Jack agreed to meet me around mile 20 because I thought some Sustained Energy would be good to drink. It was! He had met up with Alex as well and the two of them rode along. Since I started so late I am passing tons of people and it gives the impression that I am running faster than I am. Having two friends bike along was super fun, like I had my own escort. Since they both qualify as real athletes, they were pushing me along and my pace quickened. Then, anticlimactically, downtown was in view, I was feeling well, and they had to peel off. My right foot was aching, as it did on my 3-hour training run, but I ignored it. Pushed on through and went as fast as I could for the last 1.2 miles. Crossed the line, looked at my cell phone to confirm my time, and hobbled to a stop.





Finish
The finish area sucked. No food. Was funneled all the way around to 2nd street through the market to buy things before I could head south to where my bike was. Foot pain started to kick in (I’d end up limping for two weeks and seeing a doctor, but no injury). Met up with Jack, Alex and Molly, who had made, in perfect teacher fashion, a fantastic sign. We sat around downtown eating and drinking before riding back to the A-house for some proper food. Great day. Time: 4.04

Portland

Went to Portland to see Vmaas, Lisa and Ryan Jacob Smith. Spent a lot of time at Food Fight the vegan grocery store. I did a talk on vegan nutrition though Vmaas and Chad spent most of the time pointing out how many donuts I ate every day. Listen guys, I was training for the marathon and needed the extra calories.

Collared shirt makes me an expert


'Hey look, it's Fidel Castro'. No one at the Microcosm film fest thought my joke was funny. Vmaas thought it was funny enough to make this picture. Thanks man.

Death Valley double

Second year in a row! I don't have a proper write-up for this, but here we go with some details:
Five of us piled 5 deep into Molly's car after I read some Dr. Seuss in her class for a national reading day. My vocab word was 'deforestation'.
Got to Furnace Creek and checked into our room. Room, what? Megan, Molly and Jen volunteered so we got a free room. Jack and I slept in here and Morgan, John UCLA and another UCLA friend of theirs camped.

In AM we met up for start and Chris Kostman informed everyone that the 17 miles to Badwater was mostly gravel b/c of construction. What the fuck? First I got a flat. Then the UCLA snapped off his derailleur hanger on a $10,000 Colnago! Holy shit. It got hot (surprise!) and our crew was struggling a bit. The course is a 150-mile out and back and then a 50-mile out and back from the start. Last year a bunch of riders quit here. Jack showed some signs he is not invincible and had a rough time on the last 50, but pulled it off. 508 winner Kenny Fast Truck Gecko Souza rode the course in like 10 hours. Geez.
Start

Hiking on Sunday

Tour De Drugs

For the Amgen Tour De Drugs race the South Bay crew (Alec, Bryan, Max, Jenny) organized a vegan BBQ and brought out the fun bikes: swing bike, drunk bike, tall bikes, bull horn bike, etc. A bunch of use rode down from LA proper and had a fantastic time. The race was boring so we entertained everyone by setting up the bikes next to the course and letting everyone have a go. Alec made caps and even pill bottles with candy in them. Thanks guys!

Swing bike!

Bike Winter Art Show

For the bike winter art show I put up some photos of my trip to Belize. Unfortunately I do not have any of them in digital form, but I wanted to post my 'Artist Statement'.

California to Belize by Bicycle.
'Belize was my introduction to Central America. After spending two months there in 2001 I decided that next time I'd ride the approximate 3000 miles from California to get there. Justin Cummings, a long time friend from BMX, and I were free of girlfriends and jobs in the summer of 2002 and decided to make it happen.

Deserts, rain forests, small villages, huge cities, mountains, flat sections, rain, heat; this route has it all. Fully self-contained, we were under ten dollars a day and made everyday activities, like eating and sleeping, an adventure. Quit your job and ride south.

Thanks Justin!

(you can read the reports from this trip in the 2002 archive section )

Bike Winter Ride to India Sweets and Spices

When LA had Bike Summer in 2005 I organized a series of rides to vegetarian restaurants. We had a great turnout and it was super fun. Since Bike Winter is so short we limited it to one ride. Thanks to everyone who did the ENTIRE route through Griffith Park.

Razor on my hat and my own spork


Did Morgan know there was a skull on the tv?


Thanks again Lisa Auerbach for photos

Feel My Legs, I'm a Racer results

Congratulations to Jack 'Mego' Lindquist for winning Feel My Legs. It was a tough, cold, rainy day and the competition was fierce. Thanks to all the volunteers and especially Luz and her kitchen crew that cooked up a great pancake breakfast.

First and only dry hill


Stephen Krchmer and broken chain on hill two


Jack's technique was to go hard early and hope no one caught him


Feel My Lingerie


Thanks to Lisa Auerbach and Megan Dean for the photos

Feel My Legs, I'm a Racer

The flyer is done for the Feel My Legs, I'm a Racer event. Click on the image below to see the higher quality version where you can read the text.

New Year's Eve 2005

I guess my life is different than 10 years ago. My high school girlfriend would probably disagree.
This is at a party in downtown LA on a borrowed bike.

6th/Valencia pre-Budge to island

Yum.

Joshua Ploeg dinner

Our friend Joshua is a traveling vegan chef and makes the best food I have ever had, anywhere, anytime. Super gourmet creations from all over the world with attention to detail and culture. Norwegian soup? Icelandic appetizers? He is on it and we love having him come down to LA and spend time with us.

A-house bike parking


Joshua


Vegan girl lawyer club, nuff said


consume

Morgan at Furnace Creek 508

Morgan 'Goat' Beeby finished the Furnace Creek 508, a non-stop bicycle race through Death Valley, in 41 hours, only 7 months after his first double century (also in Death Valley). Morgan you rule!

Rider and crew morning of start (Satan not pictured)


All riders get pre-race mug shots


Devil horns


Finish in 29 Palms, Sunday night


Max, Megan, Morgan, Myself and Chris Kostman (race organizer)

Morgan is racing Furnace Creek 508!

So we leave for Santa Clarita tonight for car/bike inspection and the race starts tomorrow at 630am.
Crew:
Megan
Max
Matt

Racer:
Morgan


Route:


Elevation:


Webcast to follow time splits through the weekend!

Philadelphia half marathon

After all the years of talking smack on running I go ahead and run a half marathon. At least it was as unconventional as expected. I had put a little time into running in prep for my first triathlon, but not much as far as distance. My twice a year running partner on the east coast told me about the Philly half and that I should run it with him. ‘No, no, I couldn’t do that distance. Too far. I am not ready.” He laughed and told me to shut up and run it. It seems most people are more overconfident about my abilities than myself.
A week and a half before the race I decide I want to give it a go. Ride over to Fairmount Park (staying in Philly at this time) on the new extended bike/jog path. I do eight miles on Tuesday and nine miles on Thursday. For the second run I managed to talk Brad, a good friend of mine who had done the Broad St. Ten Miler, to run with me. He decides to run the half as well! So at this point the race is in less than ten days and between us we have run three times for a total of twenty-six miles in the three weeks leading up to it. At least I was in good company.
Friday night. We buy some running gear at the expo where you pick up your number (ed note: Suckers!). Then I am off to West Philly for a giant feast of vegan pizza, meatballs and whole-wheat pasta with Brad and some of his friends from his office. Great time chillin and eating with people almost as unprepared as I am. Afterwards I roll over to a party but only stay for an hour or so in order to be in bed by 1am.
Wake up and fumble around for my ‘gear’. New running shorts are SHORT. Yikes. Put on a cycling cap in order to represent and not be mistaken for a runner. The night before everyone was talking about putting ‘Bodyglide’ on sensitive areas to avoid chaffing. I use KY cause that’s all I can find. Eat some soy yogurt and I am out the house riding over to the start on part of the course. Meet up with the crew and we find our appropriate corral (When you sign up you give an estimated finish time and they corral you based on this). I never find Farnz, the kid who got me to do this, cause he is in a corral closer to the front and we never catch him. Actually, for most of the race we remain on the other side of the passing. It is three of us running together and we take it slow for the first 5 miles through the city.
Public urination is a funny thing. In most places (outside the US) it is acceptable when alternatives do not exist. It was funny to see guys who probably drive BMW SUV’s sneak off to the bushes to take a piss (when otherwise they probably scoff at it). Having to pee did not come up for us cause the sports drink they were giving out was not vegan! What the hell is that about? Putting whey in a Gatorade-like drink. Bullshit! I drink water at every stop though, utilizing the speed walk method in order to actually get the water into my mouth.
By mile seven or eight we had picked up the pace and are now running each mile slightly faster than the previous. We get some Clif shots around mile nine and talk about picking up the pace further at mile ten. Is this a good idea? We hit ten and Brad’s friend steps on it. I keep up. She slows slightly but I am stoked on the new pace and keep it up. Mile eleven hits and I am still going strong. I slow for water and when I speed up the effects of the faster pace are evident in my breathing. The weather (low 90’s) becomes more of a factor when I exit the shade around mile twelve. I am passing people like crazy and imagine them all thinking, ‘That kid is going to blow up. What a dumb-ass!’ The gradient increases and mile thirteen is around the corner or it should be……this is the longest mile of the whole race…..I hit thirteen and people are lined along the course for the last tenth of a mile cheering us on. I really wasn’t sure if I could hold the pace I was at till I saw the end. What was I thinking? I cross the line and have to keep moving. My legs are slightly unhappy. I drink a quart of water immediately and collect my medal.
Meeting up with the others we make our way to the food. Philly soft pretzels! Easily I consumed 10,000 calories of these in a month in Philly and gladly consume a couple hundred more (calories, not pretzels). We sit in the grass and talk about our runs. Good times.

Naylor's Beach Olympic triathlon

August 28th, 2005

Olympic Distance= 1.5K (0.93 miles) Swim, 40K (24.8 M) Bike, 10K (6.2 M) Run

Doing a triathlon has been on my mind for many years. The stigma associated with ‘athletic’ events and my general disinterest in competition has always kept me away. Also, working out training (a pool to swim in regularly) and having a decent bike for the ride has only recently been possible.

Holy shit this was hard! After a short side trip to Maryland and DC we were checking in at the start near Warsaw, Virginia on Saturday afternoon for the Naylor’s Beach Triathlon. A nice kid from DC introduces himself to me cause he said I look like a (punk) rocker. Ha! After the bike and helmet check I did a short swim in the river before we headed off to find a hotel (thanks to a last minute donation/sponsorship we could afford to!) and eat Chinese food.

Up at 5am and nervous. So much to think about between all 3 events and the transitions, etc. We get there and I put my bike and running stuff in the transition area and get my swim cap and goggles ready for the swim. The crowd has a lot of the type-A dudes with shaved eye-brows whom I am generally averse to, but overall it is not that big of a deal. I’m swimming in bike shorts, which seems to be the norm. At the pre-race meeting, held at the entrance to the river, they point out the swim course. My stomach turns at the realization of just how far a mile in open water is. Seriously, staying afloat that long may be problematic. Bam! And we are off. I stay in the back so that I don’t get in any of the real competitors’ way. Immediately I have trouble with the navigation. Whenever I try to get into a groove of swimming I vear slightly off course. This happened numerous times. I look up and no one is around and I’ve swum partly out of the way. You can’t see shit in the middle of the river! Well, I can see all the different colored swim caps from the other waves (I was in the first wave) as they pass me! At one point I am starting to get achy and the exit beach seems ungodly far away.

Out of the water in 53 minutes and I can’t even run to the transition area where my bike is. Have to sit down to put my bike shoes on. Slightly delirious after swimming for almost twice my previous longest swim (time wise; I did this distance in a pool in 30 min). Heart rate is 178 (highest I've recorded is 194?!) when I start on the bike! Can’t even stand to pedal up hill cause upper body is so weak.
Eventually I recover from the swim and start to pass people. As I start to feel strong on the bike the realization of the upcoming run hits me and I chill out a bit. The course is beautiful with lots of trees and low traffic so 25 miles go by extremely fast. Ave speed: 19.9 MPH with no drafting.

Off of the bike and I am feeling more confident. Upper body still aches, but legs feel okay. Take the first 2 miles of the run slow (maybe 10 min miles? I don’t have a watch). I ran my first 10k in May and have only run a handful of times since then. Get some much needed fluids at the aid stations. On the bike part I had two water bottles, both with Sustained Energy (liquid food stuff that supplies about 500 calories), but I might not of drank enough. Pick up the pace a little and am being passed less often. Around mile 4 I catch up with a woman who had talked to me briefly when she passed me earlier. We run together for a while and she is super friendly. She had completed an iron-distance tri (2.4 mile swim, 110 mile bike, 26.2 mile run) earlier this year and was super supportive when I told her this was my first tri. I pick up the pace, mainly cause I just want to get done. Probably running 8-min miles and am passing some people. Main limitation at this point is mental. Legs are hanging on and breathing is heavy. Feels like I have a gallon of river water in my lungs. Around mile 5.2 I pass the transition area before the final out and back.

I am not super delirious at this point or even super ecstatic, mostly I am thinking, ‘That swim was so damn hard!’ Cross the finish line to the announcer letting everyone know I came all the way from LA. I finish the 10k with a time of 56 minutes and an elapsed time of 3 hours and 10 min. Despite the swim, I am only 5 minutes over my goal time. Overall, this was a great experience and lots of fun. Maybe it was because I was in the back of the field, but so many people were very supportive. Even cheering me on when I passed them on the bike! The combination of events is very appealing to me and I am considering doing another Olympic distance tri next month. The main limitations are the costs (registration is usually around $80, plus getting there, sleeping, etc) and having regular access to a pool before the event. So that’s my story. Thanks to all of you who gave support leading up to this, gave me tips on what to expect, and convinced me that I wouldn’t drown. For any of you obsessed with numbers you can see my time splits and rank here. Or click here for a picture of me you can put on a coffee mug.

SF to LA, 477 miles, 3.5 days

Self-supported ultra-touring. Or fast touring. Whatever. I tried to cover a lot of ground over multiple days fully self supported. Rear rack with small panniers; no tent, no stove; only a tarp, sleeping pad/bag, warm clothes, food and tools. Fun!
I stand by California being one of the most beautiful places in the world. Road down the coast the whole time; except for minor detours inland when no route stayed on the coast. 150 miles on Saturday to Big Sur (road into the night on a cold, drizzly day). 123 miles on Sunday past Pismo beach to a campground in Oceano. 129 miles on Monday past Ventura to a little state campground outside Oxnard. 75 miles on Tuesday into LA by 3pm.

Sleep deprivation killed me. Could not get up earlier enough any of the days; slept till 830/9am when should of been riding by 8am. Probably not recovered from last week's cold. Met some transcontinental riders (one Brit, one Basque countryman) doing Alaska to Argentina. Hung out with a great couple from Montreal one night at a campground. Road hard each day and still enjoyed the scenery. Sorry this is short, but am writing this about a week after while I prepare for the next adventure: Olympic distance triathlon this Sunday. Oh shit!

Mt Tam double century

Friday Morgan and I caught a Craig's list ride to the start of the Mt. Tam double century. We slept behind the school it starts at and put our stuff in the gym while we rode. I felt a cold coming on early and it hit me mid-day. Was not feeling well. We took it easy and hung out and enjoyed the great scenery up here. Also nice that I did this double last year. Afterwards we were kind of stranded. We called our friend Lauren who had recently moved to Berkeley from LA to be a superstar bike activist. She hopped in her carshare car and drove over and picked us up. Rad. The next day my cold hit me hard and I ended up spending the next couple days sleeping in her apartment. Then I headed off to Davis/Sacramento for work before returning to the Bay on Friday to ride back to LA.

Grand Tour Triple Century

Where did you go?
The ride started in Malibu (20 miles north of Santa Monica) and headed north on the PCH before turning inland through Ojai. At mile 143 we were back on the coast (Rincon Point) where the double riders headed south for the last 57. The triple riders went north to Gaviota for a 100-mile out and back before the last 57 miles from Rincon Point. Here’s a map.

How many people did the ride?
About 400 people did the 5 different rides; a double metric (126 miles), a lowland double, a highland double, a triple (after either the highland or the lowland doubles), and a quadruple (either triple with an extra 100-mile out and back at the end). It was put on by The LA Wheelman.

How far is 300 miles?
It is the same as riding from Philly to NYC back to Philly and then to NYC again. If you decided to head south from Philly you could make it to South Carolina. From LA you could ride to Mexico and back.

Why didn’t you do the quadruple?
All the rides had a 24-hour time limit. The 400-miler would require 4 back-to-back 6-hour centuries. That’s beyond my speed capabilities.

What did you eat?
Usually I eat a combination of peanut butter & jelly sandwiches, fruit, Clif bars, Gatorade, pretzels, and random snack foods available at check points. Leading up to this ride I started using ‘liquid foods’ like Hammer Gel (a syrupy substance made up of various easily digestible carbohydrates) and Sustained Energy (SE). SE is a powder you add to your water bottles and supplies about 250 calories per two scoops. For this ride I ate about 75 f my calories from these two sources. My stomach did fine till about 2 hours before the end. At this point my caloric intake dropped and I think it affected my performance. After doing some research I think someone transferred a stomach virus to me via Ethiopian food Friday night.

How long did it take?
Amazingly I finished the first 100 and 200 miles in my fastest times ever: 5 hrs 45 min and 13 hrs respectively. My total time for the 300 was 20 hrs with a rolling average speed of 17.1 MPH.

What do you think about while you are riding?
Often boring stuff like my speed, how I am feeling, if I am eating enough, concentrating on staying smooth in the pace line, following the route, how much climbing is left and what I am going to eat when I am done. Beyond this tends to be very personal. When I am riding strong positivity and positive experiences fill my mind. With headwinds or on a particular difficult spot my emotions tend to dip and negative thoughts fill my head. I’ve experienced similar situations when touring alone. There have been times when I had to fight tears.

What’s next?
Morgan and I have been talking seriously for the last two months about The Furnace Creek 508. It is a non-stop, non-drafting 508-mile race through Death Valley. This is an overwhelming decision for me to make and the possibility of me training hard enough to complete it is questionable. It is constantly on my mind and I hope to make a decision in the next couple of weeks.

The Story Part:
Writing about these rides is becoming increasingly difficult. There is an obvious pattern: Go to sleep late in some sketchy place, start late, get dropped by fast riders, constantly pass slower riders, finish with a mediocre time.

This time one year ago I was contemplating the feasibility of riding a bicycle for 200 miles in one day. I had mentally committed to the Mt. Tam double century in August and started preparing for it. Nervously, I went out every weekend and rode a 100 plus miles. I finished that ride within 20 minutes of the cut-off, but was psyched on completing something that had previously been a far-off goal.

Riding the Grand Tour Triple Century has been on my calendar all year, but it did not hit me till about two weeks before when I told people what I was signed up for. It is a logical step to take after completing 8 doubles this year, but an increase in mileage of 50 s a lot of miles and a lot of time. Is this really something I want to do?

Friday night shaved my legs cramped into Morgan’s bathroom with 3 other people; one with a digital camera and one with a video camera. Rode over to Century city to crash at our friend Alex’s house. He’s a runner and the GT is his first double century. We set-up on the couch and are asleep by midnight or so. Up at 355am and we pile into Alex’s roommate’s car. 4 people and 3 bikes with no bike rack. Did our best to avoid cops on the way over. The church start point is bustling! We get our grab bags, hide our stuff, Morgan signs up to volunteer (his knee is bothering him), and Alex and I sign out by 545am. Many riders started around 430am and most had gone before us.

Next thing we know we are flying up the PCH in a paceline dominated by 5 racers. Within 20 miles we would pick up another 10 or so people trying to catch the draft. Alex, taking Morgan’s place as the person with the heaviest/shittiest bike, even held is own pulling for a while. First checkpoint and we are quick and head out with the racers. Petrero Rd. The same one from the Mulholland DC and the one we came down (and then went up for fun!) on the Different Spokes ride. First climb is moderate and I hang with the racers as we blow by people. At the steep climb I am blowing up. Heart monitor is showing some of the highest numbers I have ever seen. Legs are burning. At steep sections I have trouble turning the pedals as I pass people pushing their bikes. The racers edge over the top about 2 minutes ahead of me. I push over the top and change gears rapidly to catch them. Luckily checkpoint two appears and with them stopped I can regroup. We are quick and as we leave Alex rolls up. He swears about the insanity of the hills and we wish each other luck. I bounce with the five racers.

Morgan called Central Coast my first official roadie ride, but I think this one takes that claim. Pacing with the racers is incredible for my time, but is working my legs as I do my part in the front. First 80 miles with an average speed of 20.1 MPH. Occasionally they’d drop me on the hills and then I’d catch them again. At one point we catch a group and roll on with them to lunch. One guy is Eric Ostrich; we met him at the Fargo hill climb and have read his stories about The 508 (which he has won). I say what’s up to him and he asks me which ride I am doing. When I tell him the triple he asks if I am training for the 508. WTF? I mutter some response about how we don’t talk about that. He says, ‘Great I’ll see you there. Have you picked you totem yet?’ Fuck. Sometimes things are so obvious to other people that keeping it a secret is a joke.

I eat lunch in 20 minutes. Ready to head off on my own when the racers ask if I am ready. Acceptance? At mile 141 we turn south towards Rincon Point checkpoint two miles away. Some riders on the triple pass by heading North and someone asks, ‘Where the fuck are they going?’ This was their first double and the guy who suggested they do it explains that there is a triple option. One guy flips out about how he can’t believe people are doing that when he had been thinking how bad-ass he was for doing 200 miles. At the checkpoint I say bye and explain I am heading north. I feel more dumb-ass than bad-ass, but am thankful I was able to ride with them.

Headwinds and hills slowly destroy my positive mood. Two flat tires (one patch fail and one puncture) worsen the situation. Riding through Santa Barbara is beautiful and rather surreal in that I have been there three times now this year. I think about the kids we hung out with at Critical Mass and I imagine how odd it would be if I ran into one of them. Finally at mile 193 I exit the 101 and hit the checkpoint that is the turnaround point. They wish me well and I leave before two riders who had gotten there before me. Heading south I pick it up a bit to hit two hundred miles at 645pm.

Around dusk I get a little lost heading back through Santa Barbara. Read Carrillo St as Cabrillo St. I recognize that my mental status is slightly reduced. I love riding at dusk so I hammer on and end up passing another person. Back at Rincon Pt in the dark. I check my cell phone messages and have a conversation that does not quite make sense to me (sorry Carolanne! Happy Birthday!). My desire to eat is just about gone; even my intake of Sustained Energy has dipped. I eat a chocolate bar and feel sick to my stomach. The roads are surprisingly desolate and I am holding a pace strong enough to pass a couple of more people. At some point I end up with a guy I had passed early and we decide to ride together. He had started at 330am and did the lowland double, but at this point we are riding a similar pace. His wife is SAG-ing for him and is constantly leap frogging us.

At the mile 274 checkpoint I am a little delirious. I barely eat anything even though I know better. We leave together and I focus on our conversing to distract me from the slow pace. My heart rate, AVE speed, etc barely make any sense to me. When I hit a hill I go into my easiest gear and just spin. Legs are feeling the racer pace from the first 143. We stop so he can get a new battery for his light (I am already on my second which was already strapped to my top tube). Instantly I am freezing. Putting on my vest helps, but I am still seriously cold. This is when I question my sanity. Also a time when I must really focus on my safety. There is low traffic, but it is DARK. I stare out into the ocean and, of all the times I have looked at, it looks new to me. This image is forever frozen in my brain. The miles slowly tick away. Every hill feels like it should be the last one. Finally Pepperdine University appears on the mountainside and we see the stoplight where we turn towards the church. AS we turn someone calls out from a van wanting to know where the finish is. It’s Max! He’s there to pick me up and he follows up the hill to the end. My computer rolls over to 300. I check in and they give me my time. Morgan finds us and expects a full report. I tell him ‘hard’.

Obviously I am out of it. Obliterated. Having been up for nearly 24 hours with 20 of them riding my bike. We load the van and I mutter about how damn cold it is. They express concern because neither of them are cold. I fall asleep and wake up in a drive-thru. I ask what city we are in. Eat some burritos and mumble random details about the ride. Finally make it home and Megan had made me a cake! I apologize for not being able to eat it d/t stomach issues. Crawl into bed after a shower and try to make sense of it all. Can’t say I had any huge sense of accomplishment or machismo; just more of a smirk about what bikes can get you in to. Woke up in time on Sunday to ride to The Smell for my More Than Transportation workshop on touring by bike and to help with a checkpoint for the Serial Killer alley-cat style race by being a dead body (bike tube guts and all!) at Union Station. Yeah BikeSummer!

Eastern Sierra double century staff ride

Friday night was the epic BikeSummer kick-off party at the Santa Monica pier. Over 350 people, many of which came on bikes. Hell yeah. Rode back at 2am and finally got to sleep around 345am. Up at 630am on Saturday for the Wheels of Steel DC training ride I had posted to the BikeSummer calendar. No one showed (surprise), so I did 20 miles alone and came home and went back to sleep. Up at 1pm, then to Tierra for vegan brunch before heading out on the 5 hour drive to Bishop in the Eastern Sierras.

Get to the hotel around 730pm to see the 14-15 hour crew of riders coming in. Exclamations of its difficulty abound. But it is only 10,000 feet of climbing. Most of the day is spent at 7-8000 ft high. Fuck. I don’t do well in high elevations and on Sunday’s ride I’d be feeling the elevation. We chill with the organizers and a guy I met at SF Critical Mass and then we go to eat. Taco Bell is the only thing open. Fuck it. Find a place to sleep in some bushes across the street next to a skate park. Sprinklers? None around. Asleep by 1130pm! Amazing. Almost 5 hours of sleep.

Crawl out of the bushes, go to the car, sort our bikes and roll over to the start. Everyone is ready and staring at us. Oh yeah, this is the staff ride we are doing for volunteering at The Heart Break DC . Only 8 peeps: 4 in the slow group (us) and 4 in the other. They leave cause they don’t want to ‘burn daylight’ (not that you are at risk of finishing in the dark when you do doubles in 12 hours). We leave 10 minutes late and catch the ‘slow’ group in about 15 miles. A big climb to start. Some tall dude takes off and we try to stick with him. It doesn’t happen. Our personal SAG vehicle greets us at the top of the climb and cheer us on. We’re in the front of the slow groups, kind of a weird feeling to be the fastest of the slow.

Scenery is unreal. Rolling right along GIANT snow covered mountains. Mt. Whitney, the tallest mountain in the lower 48 is in this range. We climb up to Mammoth Lakes. Despite the shitty suburban feel it is beautiful. Big, wonderful trees. Meanwhile I am feeling horrible. Lethargic. My breathing is feeling okay, but my ‘go’ is on pause. Could not get into the rhythm all day long. Morgan is feeling great and later would claim this was his best DC yet. We did a loop around these lakes that was unreal. Huge canyons with people skiing down! Love that shit. It is like a crazy resort town you would see in Colorado. California never ceases to amaze me. We end up back out on the main road (395) that runs between the Eastern Sierras and the Mountains that make up the Western side of Death Valley. Two very distinct regions and one road between them. It helped to distract from the fucking wind we dealt with all day. Got lost once and lost like 20 minutes. Two people DNF’d from our group. More wind after lunch then a left turn (East) into what looks more like a desert. The insane down hills begin! I topped 45 MPH on about half a dozen occasions. Top speed of the day, and in my life: 52.1 MPH. Holy shit. In the open desert it is so easy to pick up speed and not know it. Topped 50 three times. Unbelievable.

One more climb out of that valley and then, seriously, 36 miles of downhill to the end. I’m feeling better. Morgan is stoked and high on Hammer Gel. Finally I make the jump to consuming Sustained Energy (a liquid food that is luckily vegan). We end up with the last person in our group and we fly back to the end at an ave speed of close to 25 MPH. Our elapsed time is a very impressive (considering how I was feeling) 14 hours and 20 minutes. Better than 50%! Arguably we had worse conditions as well.

Change in the car, eat food at Amigos restaurant and chat with the waitress about all the long distance runners in Bishop (Are they training for the Badwater Ultra-marathon? Yep). Cruise around some more being big fish in a little pond then back to the skate park for bed. Not long after that the sprinklers kick on. Fuck it, I think, they can’t be on for that long. My sleeping bag is pretty water resistant. Back to sleep. Woken up with my feet wet. Morgan has already moved onto the concrete in the park (over the fence). I figure that if my feet are wet then they’ve been on for a long time and should go off any minute. Then some starts dripping on my face. I recognize the irony of my stubbornness that lets me finish DC’s but keeps me from moving to a dry spot to sleep….

On the drive back we turn around on the highway cause we see someone pushing a mountain bike up the road, heading north. We pull over and Mr. Jim Smith, age 71, was walking just cause he got tired. His $75 Huffy mountain bike was strapped with backpacks and had gallon water jugs hanging from it. The people you meet via bikes! He’s been traveling for 10 years by bike and has NOT BEEN INSIDE A HOUSE IN TEN YEARS. We swap some stories, give him a Clif Bar and say our good-byes. Whoa. Puts things in perspective as I drive the rental car back to Los Angeles to return to my job and my house (and laptop, cell phone,etc)…

Central Coast double

Back up the coast for a ride! Central Coast DC is the last of the stage races and a beautiful route on top of that. Paso Robles, the starting point, is an odd town that is a mix of yuppies, rednecks and college kids. Not sure what to make of it. We find a construction site across the street from the park in the center of town starting point to sleep in. Wake up to the sounds of roadies clicking out of their shoes. We hop the fence in the back and carry our sleeping bags to the car discreetly. We have to sign ourselves in to leave on time with the main group. We stick with the ‘main’ lead group all the way to the first check point, after two decent climbs.

Heading north on the PCH is beautiful. Rolling hills, ocean views, all that stuff. The big climb is right off the coast, 8 miles up and over the mountain range to HWY 1. I take off my helmet and decide to push. Start passing people pretty consistently; but that is not as impressive as it sounds because we had taken too long at the checkpoints and were totally sandbagging it. After the downhill is lunch. Morgan shows up later than anticipated: he had flatted. We decide to split up.

Oh yeah I had bonked on the flat about 2 miles before lunch and had to get pulled in by some guy after a group I had passed on the hill overtook me. This was my first experience with truly bonking: just could not muster the energy to go a decent speed. After lunch I was still recovering and was not feeling so strong. I bunny hopped the cattle guard and a group behind me was quite impressed. We hit some headwinds and I was feeling stronger so I pushed on. When I’d pass people they’d jump on and ride in my draft. Pulled for about 5 miles and was a little annoyed that no one else jumped ahead. Even on the 49 MPH downhill people stayed right on my rear tire. Made a turn out of the wind and there is only one person behind me! He thanks me graciously and I am stoked he was appreciative. We chat for awhile as I recover.

Morgan claims this was my first ride at roadie speed. I’m very happy with my time and felt strong at the end of the 211 miles. Morgan gets in after me and I had already changed and found out that the meal did not have one vegetarian dish. Blah. We found a school to sleep at (my experience at the X-games in 1997 taught me not to sleep in the open, but Morgan did not and got caught in the sprinklers) and got a full 8 hours sleep. Stopped in San Luis Obispo at a rad coffee shop, promoted BikeSummer there and then again in Santa Barbara before heading back to LA.