There was no bike rally today, so I went out on my own. The weather was gorgeous. At eight o'clock, when I started riding, it was sunny, warm, and calm. Wind is a fact of life in North Texas. Most people don't notice it, but bicyclists do. A headwind reduces one's speed by half of its speed. For example, if I'm riding into a 20-mile-per-hour wind, it reduces my speed by 10 miles per hour. If I would be going 22 miles per hour with no wind, I'll be going 12 miles per hour into that wind. Yes, there are tailwinds as well as headwinds, but you never make up with a tailwind the speed you lose while riding into a headwind. The same is true of hills. You never make up on a descent the speed you lose on an ascent. The fastest closed-loop course, therefore, is one with no wind and no hills.
I had a great time on the bike. I love riding with other people, but unless they're at precisely my ability, I'm either going too fast for my own good (to stay up) or going slower than I would like to. When I'm alone, I have only myself to think about. I can go hard when I feel like it and take it easy when I feel like it. My friends will not be insulted when they read this; they know what I'm talking about. Everyone is faster than some people and slower than others, with two exceptions: the person who is fastest and the person who is slowest.
I had no particular goal as far as speed was concerned. I wanted to put in some miles to prepare myself for my first century a month from now (in Waxahachie), so I decided to extend an existing route of 54.5 miles. I wasn't sure how far it would turn out to be, but I figured about 65. If it turned out to be 70, so be it. The course was one I used to do frequently in the 1990s, but I hadn't done it in many years. I was curious as to whether anything on the course had changed. Had the road been enlarged or altered? Were there subdivisions instead of scattered houses? Would I even recognize the course?
I'm happy to report that the course was almost exactly as it was 15 years ago. Riding on it was like going back in time. The amazing thing is that I felt at least as good today as when I was in my 30s. If anything, I'm stronger and faster than I was then, even though I rode more often than I do now. If I had to explain why this is, I'd say it's better nutrition and hydration. I know my body better than at any time in my life. I eat properly, hydrate properly, get plenty of restful sleep, and in general take care of myself. I've also learned how to ride. This is something even professionals such as Lance Armstrong have to learn. Lance didn't understand the concept of pacing himself. He went all out from the outset of every race in which he participated. One of his first coaches sat him down and explained that in cycling, you must bide your time before attacking. The analog in training is to keep a steady pace throughout the ride.
As I said, there wasn't much wind, but it was in my face for the first third of the ride. I rode 17.4 miles the first hour. I paused about five miles in to put my earphones in. I have more than 7,500 songs on my Zune music player, the overwhelming majority of them ripped from my compact discs. That's another reason I enjoy riding alone: I get to listen to my music. Once I got into the countryside, I was in heaven. The crops are growing; there was little traffic; and I could see for miles in every direction. I love rustic things, and I got to see plenty of them today: barns, sheds, farm implements, fences, pastures, and enclosures. I saw goats, horses, cows, dogs, a donkey, a hawk, and even a roadrunner. Some of the roads were smooth; others were rough. Riding from suburbia to ruritania was like going back in time.
I rode 18.1 miles the second hour, which gave me an average speed of 17.75 miles per hour for two hours. I was feeling stronger than when I began. Second wind, I guess. I didn't mind the hills a bit. Each hill is a little challenge. Get up it without expending too much energy. I tried to find the right gear for each hill. If the gear is too large, you strain your legs; if it's too small, you spin too much and go too slowly. I knew that when I got to the two-hour mark, I'd have a tailwind most of the way back to my car. I looked forward to a high speed. On the way, I stopped to urinate near a large tree on FM664. I call it my "peeing tree." I ate a PowerBar and rested for a few minutes. (In professional races, the riders urinate on the fly. I refuse to do it.)
I rode 18.2 miles the third hour, which gave me an average speed of 17.90 miles per hour for three hours. I had about 12 miles to go, most of it with a tailwind and some of it downhill. I had 18 miles per hour in the bag. Just as I started my descent of Lakeridge Parkway, I struck a pothole in the road and suffered a flat tire on my rear wheel. There was no reason to panic. I carry a spare tube and all the requisite equipment. It was still only 11:30, and I was in no hurry to get home, so I carried the bike onto the grassy shoulder and proceeded to replace the tube. As expected, it had a snakebite puncture. This is caused by striking something hard. The tube gets pinched against the rim. The two holes in the tube look like a snakebite.
Once I replaced the tube, I began to inflate it with my hand pump. Boom! When I heard that sound, I knew that I was in trouble, for I had no other tube. I do carry a patch kit, but when a tube blows, it's usually unpatchable. When I examined the tire, I saw that the tire itself had a large gash in it. The pothole had destroyed the tire as well as the tube. There's no way to patch a tire, so, resigned to my fate, I put the wheel on the bike and started walking it. I was about eight miles from my car. If I had to walk all the way, it would take well over two hours.
I walked about a mile and a half before a man in a black pickup truck asked whether I wanted a ride. I said yes and put the bike in the back. I told him where my car was and that I would appreciate a ride of any distance in that direction. I climbed into the bed, but he told me to get into the cab. His wife and nine-year-old son were inside. They had been watching their older son play baseball. We chatted about baseball, cycling, the gorgeous weather, and other things. They told me that they don't usually pick up hitchhikers but that they thought God might bless them if they did. One time, they said, they towed someone's boat. Their reasoning was that they might need assistance of that sort one day and didn't want to feel guilty if they received it. "The Golden Rule," I said, smiling. The woman seemed pleased that I saw it the way they did. I told them that I appreciated their generosity and would "pay it forward." The woman smiled.
The man drove me right to my car, which was nice of him. I asked his son whether he liked baseball and he shook his head yes. His mother spoke for him: "He likes the Yankees." I couldn't bear to tell him that he was rooting for the devil, so I didn't. I talked about the Rangers, who won a doubleheader yesterday. The mother said the boy likes the Yankees because he likes A-Rod. I couldn't bear to tell him that A-Rod is a cheater. Why ruin it for the kid? He will learn soon enough that the world (alas) is full of cheaters, liars, bums, and creeps.
I averaged 18.53 miles per hour for the final 10:41 of my ride and ended up with an average speed of 17.93 miles per hour for 57.0 miles. I still don't know how long the course was, although I believe it's about 65 miles. I guess I'll have to ride it again soon to find out! I burned 1,924 calories today and had an average heart rate of 126. The ride didn't tire me out in the least, even though I rode hard the entire way. I hope you're having a safe and enjoyable weekend.
