Final report: Solvang Century 2011

I have been preparing for this event for five months, so it wasn’t totally surprising that I would be packed and ready to go Thursday night. But in keeping with my character, I wound up waiting until the last minute to leave, took too long shopping at a bike shop in San Luis Obispo, and arrived at the Marriott Santa Ynez Valley at 3:30pm. 
When I rolled up, there were bikes and cyclists everywhere! The San Francisco Chapter was also staying at this hotel, so I didn’t recognize everyone clad in lycra and holding a bike, but it was cool seeing bikes out front, bikes in the lobby, bikes rolling down the hallways, just everywhere. I did recognize a few people from my chapter getting ready for a little group ride to get back in the saddle and stretch their legs. I was having none of that. I wanted to save every bit of energy for the ride, so I just checked in and vegged out for a while. It had been a hard week at work trying to get everything done so I could take a few days off and I hadn’t slept well all week.
We had an inspiration dinner scheduled for that evening, so I set an iPhone alarm just in case I dozed off. I didn’t need it. Long before I set my alarm to go off, there were so many people talking and laughing in the lobby (which was 30 feet from my room), I had to go out to see what was going on. 
The lobby was full of Team in Training people, some of which I knew. We chatted about our nerves vs. eagerness. I’ve said it before, but I wasn’t nervous. I was ready to do this. 
The Inspiration Dinner was nice. We heard how much we raised, got a nice pep talk from Patrick, our head coach, and heard from an honoree about her struggle with the disease and how the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society helped her get into a clinical trial that saved her life because she was a grad student at the time and had no insurance. Yet another reminder of how critical universal healthcare is. One way or another, we all get healthcare. The only questions are how and when. But they are questions for another time. This weekend is all about giving voluntarily of ourselves and representing those who volunteered their dollars so we may help those who have blood cancers.
After the dinner was over, we got our bib numbers, info packets, and last-minute instructions from Coach Kristy. We were going to meet in the lobby at 6:00am and be ready to roll at 6:30.
My teammate and roommate Scott and I were both a little anxious and didn’t sleep well. Fortunately, Coach Patrick warned us about this and said it didn’t matter. We set our alarms for 5:00, but I know I woke up around 3:30 and he was already tossing and turning. Around 4:45, I announced, “enough of this charade,” and got out of bed. It was a good thing, because people were milling about the lobby way earlier than 6:00. We got dressed, checked everything twice, and got there around 5:45. The place was already packed. 
We went over the route together, but I barely paid any attention. There were going to be something like 3,000 riders at this event and I figured getting lost was the least of my worries. I was also determined to stay with my team no matter what, so navigation was not going to be an issue. But Kristy and some of the other riders who’d done this century before were discussing differences between this route and older routes, so I think it was okay to mentally skip that part. There was something about how we were starting a few miles up the route from the official starting point. That would come into play later.
At that point, I started thinking about what I was wearing. Based on the weather reports (40–70 degrees), I guessed I would be fine wearing arm and leg warmers, a base layer, my TnT jersey, full-fingered gloves, and my vest. When I stepped outside that morning, I decided to keep the sleeves. But at the last minute, I went back to my original plan. I was cold when we started, and even colder because we had to wait for Rachel (who lost her glasses) and pose for a crapload of pictures (damn paparazzi!),  but I warmed up pretty quickly once we got going. 
The ride started out under overcast skies, but as we left the town of Buellton and hit the countryside, the clouds broke and we got our first glimpse of blue skies. That’s when my first “issue” popped up.
Now, I’m normally a superstitious, pessimistic person—and life usually proves me wrong. But my life has never included anything like this century ride. So when I went through the entire training season without a single mishap, my cynical side said, “oh yeah, you’re going to have problems on this ride.” My optimistic side countered with, “Okay, but it will probably be a flat tire, and you’re well prepared for that.” 
Cut to Mile 15. After a mostly downhill beginning, I was starting a small climb and accidentally dumped my chain between the rear sprocket and the rear hub shifting into my lowest gear. My back tire locked up and the force of stopping me, even at a paltry 7 or 8 MPH, was enough to wedge it in there good and tight. My ride was in jeopardy and I’d hardly just begun!
Since I was in the lead, most of my team passed me. When they asked, “Are you okay?” I figured it was a simple derailment and that I’d just put the chain back on the right sprocket and be on my way, so I replied, “Yeah, just dropped my chain.” Then I got a good look at it and saw deep scrapes in the aluminum hub and my chain tilted sideways in the gap. Not good. By the time Rachel approached me, I had the bike flipped upside-down by the side of the road and was tugging at the chain (yes, I was yanking my own chain LOL) by the side of the road. I realized I was in pretty deep shit and she stopped to help. 
We scratched our heads and I pulled from different angles as she held the wheel steady. It didn’t budge. I thought, “if brute force won’t work, maybe a more subtle kind of force will.” So I broke out my tools, put a screwdriver tip on my multi-tool, and tried to find an angle that let me pry the chain loose. But the chain was protected on one side by the spokes—and if I broke a spoke, my day was surely done.
After about ten minutes, Mentor Mark rode back down the hill to see what was going on. By that time, I was at the point where I’d removed the wheel so I could try different angles. I noticed that the chain wasn’t as tightly wedged from the other side, and with the wheel out of the dropouts, I was able to start prying it out from the slack direction. after about five links worked loose, we were down to the final, most stubborn one. This one was actually stuck inside a hole in the rear sprocket too, but with the rest of the chain free, I was able to push it backwards and with a little persuasion from the business end of a screwdriver, it wiggled free.
Around the time the rest of the team came down the hill to check on my, I had put everything back together again. Total downtime was probably about 15 minutes. I was relieved that I could continue the ride, but was still concerned about the structural integrity of the spokes and the chain, not to mention wondering if I could use low gear again. But onward we went.
The first rest stop was at mile 20 (for us; it was mile 24 for everyone who started at the official starting point). We pulled over and Kristy suggested I see the mechanic. At this point, I think it’s appropriate to thank SCOR CARDIAC CYCLISTS CLUB (www.bikescor.com) for putting on a first-class event, complete with plentiful, lavish porta-potties and fully staffed rest stops, including mechanics! The mechanic put my bike on a work stand and gave it a good once-over. He said I was lucky; the chain and sprockets looked straight. He adjusted my rear derailed so it wouldn’t move too far to the inside, then he felt my front tire and said, “Hey, your front tire’s low. Do you want me to pump it up?” I thought, “Hmm, it was fully inflated when I left!!!!” And I knew I was getting a flat. He said he could pump it up and I could see how long it lasted, but I figured the best place to fix a flat is where they had a floor pump along with a mechanic and a table full of spares for sale (not that I wasn’t prepared for a flat). So, I fixed my flat in the relative comfort of a big, industrial-size, carport-type structure.
I also needed to pee, but didn’t want to hold the team up any longer so off we went… having semi-officially changed our name to “Team Long-Assed Break” from “Team Short Break.” 
Okay, so we were 20 miles into the ride and I’ve had a potentially serious mechanical problem and a flat tire.
The next part of the ride took us through a small suburban neighborhood and a four-lane freeway. Wait, what? Yes, we rode on Hwy 1 where it is officially a freeway. That was interesting. And hilly. For the record, those grooves that warn you that your sleepy ass is running off the side of the road are even more annoying on a bike when you’re trying to pass a slower cyclist. 
Then we hit more beautiful terrain. Lush, green hills decorated with cows and horses and oil drilling rigs… um, yeah. Oh well, at least they were the small pumping rigs, not some massive derrick. 
Somewhere around Mile 36, my GPS unit gave me a low-battery warning. Great. I’ve been on quite a few rides with this thing and it’s never run out of juice. And I fully charged it before I left. Awesome. I really wanted to document this ride, too. Fortunately, I have two teammates who have GPS bike computers, so I can leech off of their data (Thanks, Mark and Scott!). 
If GPS tracking was the only thing I lost, that would just be a minor bummer. But this device also monitors my speed and my pedal cadence. So, pacelining became and exercise in frustration for the rest of my team when I was in the lead. I just kept riding too fast. I told them to just give me voice commands when I was riding too fast or too slow, but the only one I could hear was Rachel. On previous rides, even with a functioning GPS, I would always ride too fast for her. I told her, “it’s okay to tell me to “slow down, dumbfuck!'” and she always graciously complied. I love that about her 🙂 This time, she tried a few times to yell “slow down”, but for some reason, I never heard her unless she added an F-bomb or two. I think I burned her out because after the lunch break (rest stop 3, circa Mile 53) Web Captain Rick said he and Rachel were going to finish the ride on their own. Sorry, Rachel 🙁
At lunch, I was kind of concerned about my eating and drinking routine. On Friday, I knew I needed to buy more sports drink additives. I only had enough GU drink mix for about half the ride. I had plenty of GU packs for extra calories, and Mentor Mark gave us all gift packs that included Cliff bars and Hammer energy packs (and Chamois Butt’r, to keep another part of you happy during the ride). But I was worried about the last part of the water + calories + sodium trifecta. When I stopped at that bike shop in San Luis Obispo, I bought some stuff that looks exactly like Airborne tablet that prevent colds, but is formulated for refueling during sports activities. Naturally, I forgot this in my hotel room. DOH! Fortunately, Sharon offered me some actual salt at the lunch break and I asked her to dump it into my water bottle. It turned out to be a good thing, too. 
After lunch, we had a short ride with a bit of a climb to the next rest stop. Maybe about 12 miles. Between there and rest stop 4, I asked Head Coach Patrick (who was riding with us at this point) if this was Foxen Canyon. He said, “No, that will sneak up on you. You can see that this is a climb, but when you’re on Foxen Canyon, all of a sudden, you’ll wonder if you have a flat tire. It’s a gradual climb you never see coming until you’re tired and wondering when it’ll stop.” 
Sometime on this segment of the ride, I took a swig from the saltwater water bottle. It tasted awful, but I knew that meant I didn’t need the salt. I kept drinking from the sports drink bottle though. Also, Stephen, a rider from the fastest team, wasn’t feeling great and he dropped down to our group. He’s a skinny guy who climbs like a mofo, but due to my greater mass, I could keep up with him on the descents.
Then we hit the dreaded Foxen Canyon Road we’d heard so much about and trained so hard for. Everything in our training season was geared for certain parts of this ride. We did numerous hill repeats and “Category 5” climbs to prepare for the short, semi-steep climbs littered throughout this century. We rode from Santa Cruz to San Gregorio to prepare us for a long day in the saddle. But the Calaveras ride and the Old La Honda Odyssey were intended to help us prepare for Foxen Canyon. Calaveras included a long, sustained climb and Old La Honda focused on a shorter, steeper climb. 
I’d say the plan succeeded. 
I won’t say that Foxen Canyon was easy; it gave my teammate Scott some problems. But it turned out to be less of a problem than I thought it would be. That’s also part of the training strategy, though. As Coach Patrick has said from the very beginning, “We don’t train for the ride; we train for the party afterward!” So pretty much everyone I talked to thought the ride wasn’t as hard as they thought it would be. And that’s awesome, because we had a great time at the after-party!
So from about Mile 70 to Mile 80, we had a long, sustained, gentle climb—exactly what Coach Patrick described. Then, near the top, it gets steeper. Mapmyfitness.com says only the last bit near the top is a Category 5 climb. The rest doesn’t even rate a category! But it takes lots of energy, so when you do hit the last steep part at the end, you’re already tired. But we did it and the Team in Training reps were there to greet us! The leader (I can’t remember her name) and our team leader, Nicole, were both there congratulating us for finishing the toughest part of the ride!
To me, this was the un-official end of the ride. We had just conquered the hardest part of the ride and anything else the course threw at us was just a minor inconvenience on the way to the actual finish line. We ate, drank, made merry, and used the lavish porta-potties. I also took a swig from the saltwater water bottle. It tasted good. This was a sign that I was seriously in need of sodium! THANK YOU, SHARON! I drank the rest of that bottle during our longer-than-normal break (yeah, Team Short Break was a misnomer at this point) and mixed what little GU sports powder I had left in my water bottle. It’s cool, though, because the end was in sight.
Just because the hardest climb was behind us doesn’t mean we were coasting the rest of the way. Almost immediately out of the last rest stop, we were greeted by the gnarliest few miles of “pavement” I’d ever ridden. Seriously, everyone has driven/ridden on some road that had a bunch of potholes. This stuff was more like miles and miles of what mountain bikers call “washboard.” Except that most mountain bikers have some kind of suspension these days. On a road bike, it was hand- (or butt-) numbing vibration that went on for what seemed like 10 minutes. The odd thing was, the other side of the road looked much smoother. I actually contemplated riding on the wrong side of the road to escape the high-frequency vibrations on the right side of the road!
Then we got hit by two, small, “Fuck YOU!” climbs on the way back to the official starting point. Tough, but I was so filled with adrenaline, that they seemed totally minor. I attacked them, but Stephen tackled them like they were flat ground. I swear, the dude has serious motor!
After those last, few climbs, we finally rolled into the Hotel Corque. This is the official start/finish line, but since we started from our hotel a few miles away, it was really just the last rest stop… the one with beer!
We got our TnT medals, ate a BBQ lunch, and had a beer. Then, after about an hour, we remounted and rode about four miles back to our hotel. It was the hardest four miles of the entire century because my ass had gotten used to NOT sitting on a bike seat! It was hard (the seat AND the ride) but we made it. Then, Mentor Mark said we hadn’t actually  ridden 100 miles (the official ride statistics said the “century” was only 99.3 miles). So we rode a little more and got a full 100 miles under our belts 🙂
Once back at the hotel, Mark gave us a bit of cyclist wisdom. He advised us to take an ice bath to reduce the pain later. I took it to heart… then took a lukewarm shower instead. After being in the saddle for about 9 hours, I decided that any long-term gains from taking an ice bath would pale in comparison to taking a comfortable shower and washing an entire day’s worth of salt and crust off of me. 
After showering, I took a little nap before going to the Victory Party. I’m not sure it helped. I was super-excited after accomplishing my goal of riding 100 miles in a day, but super-exhausted, too. I got maybe 45 minutes of nap time, then I went out to the lobby, where the rest of the team was gathered, chatting. 
The rest is kind of a blur. I got a beer, then Mark texted me to ask me to come to his room to sign a card for Coach Kristy. Then I got another beer and Scott joined us. Then we kicked it with some teammates in the lobby before the dinner. Then we ate and drank and danced. One of the highlights of my night was when our greenest teammate, “Jean”, responded to my question of “so, what did you think?” with “It wasn’t THAT hard!” Another highlight was the dance-off. Apparently, we have a rivalry with the San Francisco TnT Chapter. As a Lakers fan, I object to the use of the term “rivalry.” A rivaly, in my opinion, is when two teams compete for the same honor. If one team has consistently beaten the other, there is no rivalry. Rivalries only exist if teams are competitive. San Francisco TnT Cycle Team, you have disappointed me. We had SO many more dancers on the floor than you did. In fact, I (a person who needs a few drinks to get on the dance floor) actually spent more time on the dance floor than most of the San Francisco team. Silicon Valley/Monterey Bay Chapter RULEZ, San Francisco Chapter DROOLZ!
After we put the San Francisco Chapter to shame, we closed the dance floor (at 10pm, woo-hoo!) and Scott and I went to our room to crash. I stayed awake for another 45 minutes or so, then passed out. 
I slept until around 7:30am, then got some coffee. Some other Silicon Valley/Monterey Bay teammates were gathered in the lobby, having a chat and a coffee. I joined them, then headed back to the room to pack and get ready to leave. We talked about all kinds of bike-related and TnT-related stuff. I told our TnT SAG coordinator Ruth that I’d be willing to handle some spot SAG duty (my official stance is that I want to take the summer off, but I will be back next winter), but she said she’s retiring from TnT!!! That sux and Ruth will be missed. But I also told Nicole, our team coordinator, that I would be willing to help out with SAG during the summer season, so I hope they’ll take advantage of that. Coach Kristy is going to be the head coach for the summer season (Patrick is taking time off to do the Death Ride), so I would be very happy to help her have a great season.
So that’s it! Five months of preparation and nine hours of riding, finished in the blink of an eye (relatively speaking). I have gained so much more out of TnT than I’ve put into it—and that’s why I’ll be back. While the summer season sounds intriguing (doing the Moab, UT century), I would rather pick and choose where and when I donate my time for a while. But the winter season is so beneficial, helping me stay in shape when I would ordinarily stay in bed or in front of the TV, that I am already planning to do it again! 

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