That's what you get when you do one sport for a month.
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Zebra stripes - pretty Keene, huh?
Strange stripes. A white trunk. Tan wrists. White hands.
Biking, and biking only, is stressing out my skin. Not to mention what it's doing to my enthusiasm.
I am pared down to one sport, and I don't like it.
But we're talking survival here.
When we first signed up for Bike Florida's week long tour of the Apalachicola area (60-something miles a day for 6 days), it sounded like fun.
Then it didn't.
I realized that, although I can go out and ride sixty fat tire miles any day of the week, I have never, ever done sixty miles every day of the week.
And so the weird tan lines.
Do you like training plans? Do you like lists?
Me neither. But I use them. Sometimes.
I make a general survival plan for the next six weeks:
Start moderately.
Simulate the Tour - ride early in the morning.
Build for four weeks.
Taper.
By week #6, the Tour will be easy-peasey-lemon-squeezy.
Week #1 of 6
Feb 13 - 19
Goals:
Start easy.
Ride early at least three days in a row.
OTD (out the door) by 7:30.
Ride the other three days whatever time I choose.
One rest day.
Following these rules, I see in my notes that I made it out the door by 8:30 on Monday, 9 on Tuesday, 8:30 on Wednesday.
I rode six days, and took a rest day Friday.
The mileage total for week #1 was 220 miles.
I also see in my notes, that my iPhone slid out of my back pocket and into the toilet at The Mansion on Saturday. There is a frowny face drawn in.
Week #2 of 6 Feb 20 - 26
Goals:
Ride 4 days in a row.
OTD (out the door) by 9am. (7:30 being futile, I guess.)
One 50 mile ride, 3 whatever length.
Ride the other two days at whatever time I want.
One rest day.
There are no notations for times departed.
I rode seven days that week.
Tuesday was the fifty: 57.5 miles.
Total mileage for the week 200.5.
The rest day turned out to be Saturday's ride.
Sauce and I rode 16 miles. He had just given blood and wasn't up for 40. I had not given blood, but I wasn't up for forty either.
Physically, I was starting to feel strong. Mentally, all this biking was wearing me down. I was surprised to realize I missed running.
All bike and no run. And no writing. And not much email either. Or Facebook. All morning activities. The last notation of the week says: BORING.
Week #3 of 6 Feb 27 - Mar 4
Goals:
Ride 4 days in a row - early. (No specific time mentioned.)
At least two 50's. A 40, a 50, and a 60 would be ideal.
No particular time of day or distance listed for the other 2 days.
One rest day.
Monday and Tuesday started out well with 51 and 45 miles.
It wasn't until Wednesday, the sixty mile day, that the plan went south.
The light turned green. I stood up on the pedals to cross Babcock St. at Melbourne Avenue at the front of a line of cars. The chain hung up - ooof - at a dead stop for an instant. Then it gave completely - what the? It's like a judo class with Uncle Grand Master. With nothing suddenly under my feet, the world flips in swift reversal. Me on the bottom, the bike on top.
Here's the miracle. Every one of the cars - all four directions - even the right turners - came to a dead stop.
I lay on black pavement, in the middle of an intersection, surrounded by the heavy breathing of metal engines so close I could smell their heat.
I jumped up faster than Spooky the time Tiger chased her over the seawall. (Well, no human could actually jump faster than the Spook, but you get the idea). Picked up the bike. Ran for the curb.
I was on the sidewalk before even the guy in the yellow Mustang could honk.
One lady rolled down her window and asked if I was OK. (Like I said, miraculous.)
I admit to being a little shaky. At least the chain went back on with no trouble.
I rode quietly, embarrassed and subdued, down to the river side park, and futilely chased the blood running down my arm with the dinky little square of paper towel I carry to wipe my glasses. I wiped chain grease off my hands onto the grass. I ate my snack. I did not want to ride another 40 miles. My knee and elbow drip blood all the way home.
Total miles for Wednesday: 28
My notes say: Road Rash. (Frowny face.)
Thursday the notes say: Madone - 51 miles.
River Road times two. (Not quite trusting the Superfly. Or the traffic.)
Saturday was the real endurance test, though.
Actual ride time: 3 hours, 29 minutes. 41 miles. An average speed of 11.7 mph. 11.7? The notes say: Windy. They also say: Real time - 8:45am to 2 pm.
What happened?
Pie Man, Frank, and Michael happened. There were friends along the way to stop and chat with. We had a nice lunch. With beer. And ice cream ten miles after that. Delicious.
Happy? Happy what?
Happy Pie Man.
This, I realize, is the true touring simulation. It's fun having companions, but I am not in any kind of shape for this sort of riding. (Not to mention the kind of shape I'll be in after a week of this kind of riding.)
Total mileage for the week: 238
My notes are summarized on Saturday with three letters: OMG.
Week #4 of 6 March 5-11
Goals:
Ride 5 days in a row - early - 7:30? (As if. But it gives me a chuckle to see that I wrote it down. Again. Only questioned.)
Three 50's required.
Ideally 50, 60, 50 plus 2 more.
One rest day.
For the first time, I do not make the week's mileage goal. Total miles for week #4: 194.7
At the top of each and every day is written WINDY. Two days say RAIN. I ride the Paragon (aka, Bruiser). I am very tired of riding. And wind. And Bruiser.
By mid week the new chain and cassette has arrived for the Superfly. Popeye puts them on for me. Saturday is easier, less wind. I do 64 miles, throwing in some off-road trails to keep my spirits up.
Sunday's notation says: STORMY - ZERO MILES (There is another frowny face, even though it is the rest day. Maybe because it is the rest day.)
Today is Friday, getting toward the end of Week #5.
We have had a time change. Morning hurts.
On Wednesday, determined, I somehow got out the door at 8am. My earliest departure so far.
This morning, Friday, on A1A in Cocoa Beach, the rear tire on the Superfly acquired a slit big enough that the Stans wouldn't hold. I never saw what got it, and there is nothing in the tire but the hole spewing a white Stansy mist.
An older gentleman riding up off the beach on a Trek 4300 offered me a spare tube and his Schrader pump. Thank you for the offer, I say, but my wheel is 29 inches.
With my spare tube in place, I don't say anything about the presta valve, just load up the CO2 inflator. POOF.
"Wow, that's it?" he says. "How much do those cost?"
So far this week, the easier mileage goals are being met. Tomorrow I can go long if I want. Some of it off road.
Next week, more rest. Figure out what to pack.
Leave for Tallahassee on Friday, one week from today.
Tour the Forgotten Coast for a week.
Come home Saturday.
Sunday is April Fools Day: The Cross Florida. Cocoa Beach to Weeki Watchee. Popeye is riding. I am driving.
And then... Monday.
Monday I am going for a run.
And a swim.
I hope I don't get a weird sunburn.
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