Yesterday, in beautiful Muenster, Texas, I did my third bike rally of the year and my 449th overall. I did my first Muenster rally in 1990, when I was 33 years old. I've done 17 of the past 20 Germanfest rallies. I missed one because I chose to do a rally in Tyler instead; I missed another because of a hand injury incurred while protecting Sophie from a pit bull; and I missed a third because it was raining. (In other words, I wimped out.) There were also two Muenster rallies in August many years ago, so yesterday's rally was my 19th in Muenster. I am on intimate terms with every hill, turn, and pebble.
It was great to see all my friends at a rally for the first time this year: Joe, Mike, Phil, Randy, Bryce, Julius, Troy, and Don. We lined up on Muenster's main street among hundreds of other cyclists, waiting for the 11:00 start. It was overcast, warm, and windy, with a threat of rain. We knew we'd have a headwind for the first 10 miles, then some crosswind, then a long period of tailwind, and finally more headwind. The last 10 miles are always hard. We're climbing out of the Red River valley. It's not steep, but it's definitely uphill. When the wind is out of the south, as it usually is, and as it was yesterday, it makes for a grind. Add the fatigue of having climbed hills all day (some of them quite steep) and you get a lot of suffering. Please keep in mind that self-imposed suffering is not nearly as bad as suffering imposed by others. I think of bike rallies as planned ordeals.
I felt good all day. I ride only once a week (with three runs during the week), but I get stronger each time I ride. Whenever I got ahead of my friends, I would wait for them at a rest stop. The stretch of road between Forestburg and Bulcher was great fun. The tailwind made the riding almost effortless. At one point, riding alone north of Saint Jo, I looked down to see that I was traveling 29.2 miles per hour. This was on rolling hills. I knew I would have to pay for this, and I did. The headwind in the final 10 miles slowed my pace to a crawl. There was carnage on the side of the road. Every quarter mile or so, I would see people standing alongside their bikes, resting or waiting for a sag wagon. Many people were suffering from cramps. It looked like a battle zone.
To give you an idea of how hard it was, I had an average speed of 17.66 miles per hour at the 53-mile mark. I averaged 10.62 miles per hour for the final seven miles. Forget about counting the miles; I was counting tenths of a mile! But I kept going. All bad things must come to an end, and this rally was no exception. I found Mike (who did a short course) sitting in the shade near his vehicle. The others drifted in shortly thereafter, looking like lost adventurers. I can't say that this was the hardest Muenster rally I've done, but it was right up there. It helped as I was pedaling to think of the Taco Bell burritos I'd be eating on the way home.
Statistically, I averaged 16.39 miles per hour for 60 miles. (Elapsed time = 3:39:32.) I hit a top speed of 48.8 miles per hour on the hill north of Saint Jo. That's the fastest I've gone on that hill. I hit 48 miles per hour twice in the early 1990s. My maximum heart rate for the day was 156. My average heart rate was 127. I burned 2,261 calories. The official high temperature for the day at Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport was 83º Fahrenheit. The average wind speed was 19.5 miles per hour and the maximum wind speed 29. If anything, it was windier in Muenster than it was at the airport.
All in all, I had a great time. Nobody crashed (although Phil informed me that he had two close calls) and nobody flatted. Fighting the wind yesterday should increase my fitness for subsequent rallies. Remember: If it doesn't kill you, it makes you stronger.
Keith Burgess-Jackson, J.D., Ph.D. 