There was no bike rally today, so, to stay in shape, I went out for a ride on my own. I drove 13 miles to Arlington Bowie High School (a mile or so south of Interstate 20), parked my car, and headed out into the countryside. A little over three months ago, I did the same thing, except that I hit a pothole at 57 miles and had to walk my bike a couple of miles before getting a lift back to my car. One of the things I wanted to find out that day is how long the course is. I calculated 65 miles. Today I learned that it's 68.9 miles.
I won't bore you with details of the ride, except to say that I had fun. I listened to music most of the way on my Microsoft Zune. It's still warm and humid in these parts. There wasn't much wind, but it shifted from south to north about midway into my ride, which meant I had either a headwind or a crosswind the entire way. Imagine a square. If the wind is constant, you should have a headwind for one side of the square, a crosswind for two sides, and a tailwind for one side. Because of the wind shift, I had a headwind for half the ride and a crosswind for the other half. Oh well, it'll make me tougher. That's the point of training rides.
I averaged 17.38 miles per hour for 68.9 miles. (Elapsed time = 3:57:44.) This past May, on the shortened course, I averaged 17.93 miles per hour for 57.0 miles. My maximum heart rate today was 152. My average heart rate was 123. I burned 2,307 calories. My maximum speed was only 29.7 miles per hour, largely because I eased up on the descent where I hit the pothole. I wanted to examine the road so that the next time I fly down it, I'll know where the potholes are.
I have seven or eight bike rallies left to do this fall, but I begin footracing Monday. I ran 4.3 miles Wednesday and 4.3 yesterday to start building stamina, after running either 2.0 or 3.1 miles three days a week all summer. I can't wait for cool weather so I can increase the distance and speed. I won 16 awards in 21 races between Labor Day 2008 and the end of February 2009. I can't wait to see my running buddies again. They always laugh at my tan lines from bicycling. I always laugh at their lack of tan lines. Real men have tan lines!
Keith Burgess-Jackson, J.D., Ph.D. 