(Continued from Part Two)
Sweaty, exhausted, sun-burnt, victorious. Those are the words that remind me of what crossing the finish line was. My exhilaration for the finish line was matched by my anticipation for food and a cold beer! After eating nothing but gels, fruit bars, bagels and the occasional banana, I was looking forward to something real, tasty and not on the upper ranges of the glycemic index!!
That being said, I was really happy I stuck to the nutritional plan that was outlined for me. Sticking to only high glycemic products (gels, sports drinks on me; bagels, bananas and Fruit2 bars at aid stations) really helped with my digestion and helped keep my energy up. Sticking to sports drinks instead of water ensured I had enough electrolytes; though in the future I might get some electrolyte tablets for water when I need a "Gator-break" (break from Gatorade).
After ten minutes of digging through the car I found my meal ticket and
headed back to the canteen area. After stocking up a big meal, a few
soft drinks, a water and a cold brew from Clocktower Pub, I met up with
my small group. Everyone chatted in french. I struggled to keep up but
I felt like I had to try; after all, everyone spoke in english to me
for the last several hours. I think I would have had an easier time but
I was just so beat. But it was good to just sit and enjoy some time
with people who shared the struggle and came through it with me. I was
really thankful to have found some great people to survive the ride
with.
I'd also like to mention how thankful I am to have found a local cycling
club who was so supportive of my endeavor. I got great tips advice on
how to ride in both every-day riding and the Gran Fondo itself. Two
riders in particular come to mind (TB & GB) for always having me
along in rides and always pushing and testing my limits. I feel like
such a strong rider now as a result and don't think I could have managed
the Gran Fondo without their help!
Most of all I'm thankful for my wife's support. She believed in me so
strongly and let me know every day. She never complained about me
training incessantly even though I slacked in my chores a bit (sometimes
quite a bit). This of course in addition to her being both hot and
awesome. I love her very much & I am a very lucky man!
It's not all cheers and good news though. I am really disappointed with Wahoo Fitness. In addition to the speed/cadence sensor dying, it also lost all data from my ride. The app crashed when I was trying to save after the ride.
When I contacted Wahoo Fitness afterwards, I was told sorry but you lost your data! I'm not sure if "sorry" as in "sorry for your lost data" or "sorry you're bugging me." I honestly felt like I got the brush off from their support. I was told my situation was unique and they had no data for me. When I mentioned I had sent in lots of crash dumps, they said they would forward my message to the developers. When I asked for possible causes (so I could avoid crashes in the future) I was basically told there was no problem. When I tried to push further and offered my free time to help them diagnose the problem, they just closed the ticket. For a company that prides themselves on fitness data they certainly take a flippant attitude for it. Can't say I'm impressed with their product! If you are shopping for a bike computer and you're serious about fitness data, save yourself some anguish and just get a Garmin!
All in all, I'm really glad I signed up for the Gran Fondo. I'm also really glad I took it seriously and trained up for the distance! I'm already on the lookout for more Gran Fondos and long rides. In addition to joining long club rides, I'd like to try out this year's Thousand Islands Gran Fondo. Next year in addition to the Ottawa Gran Fondo, I was looking at trying out the Tremblant Gran Fondo and the Rideau Lakes Cycle Tour.
Showing posts with label sportive. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sportive. Show all posts
Tuesday, 18 August 2015
Tuesday, 4 August 2015
Ottawa Gran Fondo 2015 Part Two: The Ride
(See Part One here)
So on race day I helped myself to a very carb rich breakfast in preparation of the event. I also had a few "carb load" low GI bars to eat about an hour before the actual ride. Between all this and the heavy carb meal from the night before, I was almost vibrating with energy.
While going through some pre-checks I discovered my Wahoo speed/cadence sensor had stopped working. Not sure if it was malfunction or a battery issue but I was not impressed. So I enabled GPS on my phone for speed; not a great option if you were trying to set the pace as the speed is delayed and jumps around a lot. But since this was the 11th hour I didn't have much of a choice.
For those of us on the "Gran Fondo" distance (180 km), riders would leave in two waves. I was under the impression that Group A was fast and Group B would be slower; but neither would be crazy fast. I also figured if I got dropped by Group A, I could always get picked up by group B.
At this point I am reminded of a famous quote from a Robbie Burns poem, "The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men / Gang aft agley."
I left as one of the lead riders in Group A. Speed built up on the flats in the 35-45 km/h range. I was behind a few riders so it wasn't impossible to keep up, but I was definitely pushing my heart rate in the higher part of my anaerobic range. Then the first timed section came up, which included a decent size hill. That's where I got dropped like a rock while everyone rocketed past me.
No worries, there were other stragglers in Group A. I managed to snag a wheel and keep up with them. Then we ran into another hill. Dropped. Then Group B came along, which was maintaining the same pace as Group A. Another hill, I got dropped again. Passed two aid stations but still was self-sufficient so I skipped them. Occasionally I would run into other stragglers and hitch a ride.
One guy I met up with was struggling with hills too. He gave a good effort but didn't seem to have any group experience. He didn't point out obstacles or hazards, would ride aero bars while pulling and broke pace rocketing down hills at top speed. Other riders seemed to be offended by it and would break off from our tiny group. Eventually we parted ways at an aid station. I saw him a few times later and I sincerely hope he was able to complete his ride.
In retrospect it made me appreciate all the group ride training I had gotten from my local club. I might get dropped because I was slow on hills but I'd never get dropped because people were unhappy with my behaviour.
For a little while I rode solo, then caught the wheel of a rider on the MediaFondo (100 km) route. I could tell as we were all easily identified by coloured bracelets. We never exchanged a word; in fact I never saw his face. I just caught his rear wheel and followed him for a while. I remember he had a sticker on his back that said "In memory of Mum," which was very touching. He let up a bit on the hills but eventually we hit a big incline and I got dropped again.
After another brief solo ride period, another group of 4-5 riders caught up and invited me to hitch on, which I did for a small period of time. They needed to hit the fourth aid station and by that point, so did I; I could have kept going but wanted a bio break and to re-apply sunscreen. I also wanted some cold water and something that didn't taste like gel. I took a bit longer and they headed off.
When I was ready to depart I rode on solo again for a while. Shortly afterwards I ran into a husband/wife team riding alone. I asked if I could hitch a ride and they were happy to have me along. We hit a hill... and we all maintained the same pace! They both had extremely good group etiquette as well, not only pacing well but even stated change in position (saying "UP!" each time they stood on the pedals) and a holding the bottle out clearly any time they were going to drink. While they were francophones they spoke in english for my benefit (my french comprehension is so-so but terrible while exercising).
After riding for a bit we introduced ourselves; my fellow riders were Carl and Marie. There were two others who would ride ahead and drop back around us (I can't remember their names now) but this was the group I ended up staying with for the remainder of the route. We took turns pulling in the wind and kept a pretty good pace the entire ride.
As my odometer began to climb I noticed I kept getting closer to the magic number of 125 km. That was the longest I had ever been on a bicycle for a consecutive ride. Any distance beyond that officially qualified as my "longest ride". My excitement built as I got closer and closer... that's when the worst happened.
I pulled over to the side of the road to discover that my front derailleur had malfunctioned. The bracket that contains the chain had literally snapped in two different spots. I tried to use duct tape to fix it but it was apparent that there was nothing I could do to get going. My companions came back for me to help and asked me if I needed to call in for a ride, with crestfallen looks on their faces. I knew at that point I had three options. One, give up. Two, call the roving repair station and hope to hell that they somehow had a front derailleur I could use. Or three....
..... I could just keep on riding with just the small chain ring up front.
I remembered a quote we like to use in our local club, "Suck it up, buttercup!" It would be harder but I knew I could do it. When you think about it, I really needed the small chain ring most of all for climbing. I knew I could go downhill fast on mass alone; for the harder parts I knew I could employ a fast cadence to keep up. I gave my riding companions a big smile while telling them what my intent was. So we headed off again. Each consecutive kilometer thereafter was my new long distance record and I wasn't going to get held up by a bum derailleur.
Even without problems, a long distance starts to take its toll. I had started feeling a bit sore around the 80 km mark but was feeling a second wind by the time we hit around 110 km. After needing to stop at the 125 km mark, I was a bit sore again until I caught my third wind. But by the time 140 km rolled around, I was really feeling sore. I stood up a lot just to get some blood circulation in my rear end and ended up stretching my legs and back a lot while riding. My hands were buzzing from the long distance and some of the rougher roads we traversed.
Coasting down hills was normally a good break for me. At this point of the ride it was more of a hindrance than anything else. After coasting downhill for a good stretch, my legs felt sore when I began spinning again. The only way to keep them fresh was to continue spinning my legs, even when I didn't need to.
At some point another group caught up to us and asked us if we had lost an iPhone. After saying no, I put on an impish grin and said, "Wait, is it an iPhone 5? Upgrade time!" and everyone had a good laugh.
While enduring the growing pain and exhaustion I noticed another milestone pop up on my odometer. One hundred and sixty kilometers, or as people south of the border know it, 100 miles. It was my very first imperial century distance. Around that time we ran into the second last aid station. We stopped to stretch, scarf down more food and fill our bottles with sports drinks and water. The volunteers manning the station told us there was "only one little hill left" and that we were almost at the finish line.
We discovered afterwards there really was only one little hill left... because the rest were monstrous!
A few kilometers later, my companions would encourage everyone by saying how much distance was left in french and english. I remember when they said, "Dix kilometres! Just ten kilometers!" because it was the start of the longest ten kilometers of my life.
Our group continued to count down the kilometers but it felt like we were no closer to completion. We were still riding on rural roads even when two kilometers away. But right around the last kilometer we found ourselves in Kanata on urban roads and just moments away from the finish line.
As we pulled up on Innovation Drive in Kanata, other riders began clapping and giving us the thumb's up. Volunteers were ringing bells and chimes and spectators were clapping as we crossed the finish line. As I passed that line I felt a surge of pride in myself and a feeling of great accomplishment. At that moment I felt like I knew what I was made of,
Continued in Part 3, the prologue.
So on race day I helped myself to a very carb rich breakfast in preparation of the event. I also had a few "carb load" low GI bars to eat about an hour before the actual ride. Between all this and the heavy carb meal from the night before, I was almost vibrating with energy.
While going through some pre-checks I discovered my Wahoo speed/cadence sensor had stopped working. Not sure if it was malfunction or a battery issue but I was not impressed. So I enabled GPS on my phone for speed; not a great option if you were trying to set the pace as the speed is delayed and jumps around a lot. But since this was the 11th hour I didn't have much of a choice.
For those of us on the "Gran Fondo" distance (180 km), riders would leave in two waves. I was under the impression that Group A was fast and Group B would be slower; but neither would be crazy fast. I also figured if I got dropped by Group A, I could always get picked up by group B.
At this point I am reminded of a famous quote from a Robbie Burns poem, "The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men / Gang aft agley."
I left as one of the lead riders in Group A. Speed built up on the flats in the 35-45 km/h range. I was behind a few riders so it wasn't impossible to keep up, but I was definitely pushing my heart rate in the higher part of my anaerobic range. Then the first timed section came up, which included a decent size hill. That's where I got dropped like a rock while everyone rocketed past me.
No worries, there were other stragglers in Group A. I managed to snag a wheel and keep up with them. Then we ran into another hill. Dropped. Then Group B came along, which was maintaining the same pace as Group A. Another hill, I got dropped again. Passed two aid stations but still was self-sufficient so I skipped them. Occasionally I would run into other stragglers and hitch a ride.
One guy I met up with was struggling with hills too. He gave a good effort but didn't seem to have any group experience. He didn't point out obstacles or hazards, would ride aero bars while pulling and broke pace rocketing down hills at top speed. Other riders seemed to be offended by it and would break off from our tiny group. Eventually we parted ways at an aid station. I saw him a few times later and I sincerely hope he was able to complete his ride.
In retrospect it made me appreciate all the group ride training I had gotten from my local club. I might get dropped because I was slow on hills but I'd never get dropped because people were unhappy with my behaviour.
For a little while I rode solo, then caught the wheel of a rider on the MediaFondo (100 km) route. I could tell as we were all easily identified by coloured bracelets. We never exchanged a word; in fact I never saw his face. I just caught his rear wheel and followed him for a while. I remember he had a sticker on his back that said "In memory of Mum," which was very touching. He let up a bit on the hills but eventually we hit a big incline and I got dropped again.
After another brief solo ride period, another group of 4-5 riders caught up and invited me to hitch on, which I did for a small period of time. They needed to hit the fourth aid station and by that point, so did I; I could have kept going but wanted a bio break and to re-apply sunscreen. I also wanted some cold water and something that didn't taste like gel. I took a bit longer and they headed off.
When I was ready to depart I rode on solo again for a while. Shortly afterwards I ran into a husband/wife team riding alone. I asked if I could hitch a ride and they were happy to have me along. We hit a hill... and we all maintained the same pace! They both had extremely good group etiquette as well, not only pacing well but even stated change in position (saying "UP!" each time they stood on the pedals) and a holding the bottle out clearly any time they were going to drink. While they were francophones they spoke in english for my benefit (my french comprehension is so-so but terrible while exercising).
After riding for a bit we introduced ourselves; my fellow riders were Carl and Marie. There were two others who would ride ahead and drop back around us (I can't remember their names now) but this was the group I ended up staying with for the remainder of the route. We took turns pulling in the wind and kept a pretty good pace the entire ride.
As my odometer began to climb I noticed I kept getting closer to the magic number of 125 km. That was the longest I had ever been on a bicycle for a consecutive ride. Any distance beyond that officially qualified as my "longest ride". My excitement built as I got closer and closer... that's when the worst happened.
I pulled over to the side of the road to discover that my front derailleur had malfunctioned. The bracket that contains the chain had literally snapped in two different spots. I tried to use duct tape to fix it but it was apparent that there was nothing I could do to get going. My companions came back for me to help and asked me if I needed to call in for a ride, with crestfallen looks on their faces. I knew at that point I had three options. One, give up. Two, call the roving repair station and hope to hell that they somehow had a front derailleur I could use. Or three....
..... I could just keep on riding with just the small chain ring up front.
I remembered a quote we like to use in our local club, "Suck it up, buttercup!" It would be harder but I knew I could do it. When you think about it, I really needed the small chain ring most of all for climbing. I knew I could go downhill fast on mass alone; for the harder parts I knew I could employ a fast cadence to keep up. I gave my riding companions a big smile while telling them what my intent was. So we headed off again. Each consecutive kilometer thereafter was my new long distance record and I wasn't going to get held up by a bum derailleur.
Even without problems, a long distance starts to take its toll. I had started feeling a bit sore around the 80 km mark but was feeling a second wind by the time we hit around 110 km. After needing to stop at the 125 km mark, I was a bit sore again until I caught my third wind. But by the time 140 km rolled around, I was really feeling sore. I stood up a lot just to get some blood circulation in my rear end and ended up stretching my legs and back a lot while riding. My hands were buzzing from the long distance and some of the rougher roads we traversed.
Coasting down hills was normally a good break for me. At this point of the ride it was more of a hindrance than anything else. After coasting downhill for a good stretch, my legs felt sore when I began spinning again. The only way to keep them fresh was to continue spinning my legs, even when I didn't need to.
At some point another group caught up to us and asked us if we had lost an iPhone. After saying no, I put on an impish grin and said, "Wait, is it an iPhone 5? Upgrade time!" and everyone had a good laugh.
While enduring the growing pain and exhaustion I noticed another milestone pop up on my odometer. One hundred and sixty kilometers, or as people south of the border know it, 100 miles. It was my very first imperial century distance. Around that time we ran into the second last aid station. We stopped to stretch, scarf down more food and fill our bottles with sports drinks and water. The volunteers manning the station told us there was "only one little hill left" and that we were almost at the finish line.
We discovered afterwards there really was only one little hill left... because the rest were monstrous!
A few kilometers later, my companions would encourage everyone by saying how much distance was left in french and english. I remember when they said, "Dix kilometres! Just ten kilometers!" because it was the start of the longest ten kilometers of my life.
Our group continued to count down the kilometers but it felt like we were no closer to completion. We were still riding on rural roads even when two kilometers away. But right around the last kilometer we found ourselves in Kanata on urban roads and just moments away from the finish line.
As we pulled up on Innovation Drive in Kanata, other riders began clapping and giving us the thumb's up. Volunteers were ringing bells and chimes and spectators were clapping as we crossed the finish line. As I passed that line I felt a surge of pride in myself and a feeling of great accomplishment. At that moment I felt like I knew what I was made of,
Continued in Part 3, the prologue.
Thursday, 30 July 2015
Ottawa Gran Fondo 2015 Part One: Prologue
I had always enjoyed reading about large organized rides. I really wanted to try it out and get a feel for the experience. The Gran Fondo seemed like a good place to start; it was a long distance ride with lots of support. Aid stations with food and water, roving support and repair units and lots of fellow cyclists to enjoy the ride with.
With choices of 65, 100, 180 and 235 kilometers, I went with the 180km route. I figured this was a distance I could handle but later noticed the elevation... 990 meters of climbing! As a heavy clydesdale I was always at my weakest when climbing elevation.
My training took three forms; distance and climbing. For distance, I began to ride more and more with local cyclists, my every day riding increased in distance and duration. I also tried to have one long distance ride per week. Climbing consisted of finding hills and climbing them; eventually I headed out on trips to places like Gatineau Park. Both distance and climbing taught me a lot about myself, what I could handle and how to pace myself appropriately.
The night before the Gran Fondo I went in to pick up my bag of goodies and my bib shorts. Now, in European sizes I have to go up a size, and race cut usually means going up a size or two, so I had originally ordered the shorts in 4XL. When they handed me my shorts, they gave me a 3XL. I was informed there were no 4XL's and they could get them for me after the Fondo. Disappointed, I tried the 3XL on... and it fit great! I guess all the training paid off and had slimmed me down a bit.
The timing setup for this year's Gran Fondo was kind of interesting. There was an electronic strip embedded in a sticker that would hang from the seat post, which would be read by sensors along the way. This is how they measured time for the 4 timed sections of the ride as well as the entire ride itself.
The Gran Fondo also held a Nutritional Seminar. I'm very glad I went to it! Not only did I get a few extra samples because few people attended, I found I was making some severe mistakes in regards to my nutrition on the bike. To date I usually just packed water and Clif bars. After a ride I would always come back bloated and would have endurance issues with anything above 100 km. In the seminar they explained to avoid anything with protein and fat, since it just made digestion more difficult. When you are riding endurance you are simply burning carbs, so stick to food and drink high on the glycemic index. I was also neglecting electrolytes. So I planned to switch to just gels and sports drink for this ride.
In preparation of the ride, the bike I selected was my Valence. It was a road endurance bike that was literally designed to ride Gran Fondo distances comfortably. With tires at a 25mm width and a carbon fiber fork and seat post, it would give me plenty of comfort on an aluminum bike. I added some Profile Design water bottle holders to the seat post which would also give me a total of 4 bottles.
Since I have more than a passing relationship with Bad Luck, I also over-packed a bit. Three tubes along with four CO2 canisters (the new bottle holders had 4 CO2 holders). I packed my usual emergency kit of a multitool (with chain braker), tire levers patch kit and tape (duct and vinyl pieces rolled onto a light piece of plastic). To make sure my phone had enough juice I brought a few USB batteries along with a cable. I packed my smaller saddle bag as it was the only one that fit with my new rear bottle holders. Anything that didn't fit in there got stuffed into my front bag. I also planned to bring my foldable goggles and first aid kit, but opted to leave them behind at the last second. I did pack some sports drink powder and a scoop in case an aid station had no sports drink.
As I mentioned earlier, I packed enough gels to last me for eight hours, just in case. I half-filled all my bottles with Gatorade and left them in the freezer overnight; in the morning I topped them up with more cold sports drink.
My final preparations were simple but some of the most important. A big pasta supper and a good night's sleep!
Continued in Part Two: The Ride.
With choices of 65, 100, 180 and 235 kilometers, I went with the 180km route. I figured this was a distance I could handle but later noticed the elevation... 990 meters of climbing! As a heavy clydesdale I was always at my weakest when climbing elevation.
My training took three forms; distance and climbing. For distance, I began to ride more and more with local cyclists, my every day riding increased in distance and duration. I also tried to have one long distance ride per week. Climbing consisted of finding hills and climbing them; eventually I headed out on trips to places like Gatineau Park. Both distance and climbing taught me a lot about myself, what I could handle and how to pace myself appropriately.
The night before the Gran Fondo I went in to pick up my bag of goodies and my bib shorts. Now, in European sizes I have to go up a size, and race cut usually means going up a size or two, so I had originally ordered the shorts in 4XL. When they handed me my shorts, they gave me a 3XL. I was informed there were no 4XL's and they could get them for me after the Fondo. Disappointed, I tried the 3XL on... and it fit great! I guess all the training paid off and had slimmed me down a bit.
The timing setup for this year's Gran Fondo was kind of interesting. There was an electronic strip embedded in a sticker that would hang from the seat post, which would be read by sensors along the way. This is how they measured time for the 4 timed sections of the ride as well as the entire ride itself.
The Gran Fondo also held a Nutritional Seminar. I'm very glad I went to it! Not only did I get a few extra samples because few people attended, I found I was making some severe mistakes in regards to my nutrition on the bike. To date I usually just packed water and Clif bars. After a ride I would always come back bloated and would have endurance issues with anything above 100 km. In the seminar they explained to avoid anything with protein and fat, since it just made digestion more difficult. When you are riding endurance you are simply burning carbs, so stick to food and drink high on the glycemic index. I was also neglecting electrolytes. So I planned to switch to just gels and sports drink for this ride.
In preparation of the ride, the bike I selected was my Valence. It was a road endurance bike that was literally designed to ride Gran Fondo distances comfortably. With tires at a 25mm width and a carbon fiber fork and seat post, it would give me plenty of comfort on an aluminum bike. I added some Profile Design water bottle holders to the seat post which would also give me a total of 4 bottles.
Since I have more than a passing relationship with Bad Luck, I also over-packed a bit. Three tubes along with four CO2 canisters (the new bottle holders had 4 CO2 holders). I packed my usual emergency kit of a multitool (with chain braker), tire levers patch kit and tape (duct and vinyl pieces rolled onto a light piece of plastic). To make sure my phone had enough juice I brought a few USB batteries along with a cable. I packed my smaller saddle bag as it was the only one that fit with my new rear bottle holders. Anything that didn't fit in there got stuffed into my front bag. I also planned to bring my foldable goggles and first aid kit, but opted to leave them behind at the last second. I did pack some sports drink powder and a scoop in case an aid station had no sports drink. |
| Gels and carb pre-loaders packed for the Gran Fondo. |
As I mentioned earlier, I packed enough gels to last me for eight hours, just in case. I half-filled all my bottles with Gatorade and left them in the freezer overnight; in the morning I topped them up with more cold sports drink.
My final preparations were simple but some of the most important. A big pasta supper and a good night's sleep!
Continued in Part Two: The Ride.
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