The idea had been brewing in my head all week. After doing 310k over the previous weekend and feeling absolutely fine, I decided I wanted to push the boundaries a bit. A 250k would've been a step up, but I'd done more than that on the day of the Around the Bay ride last year. Even 300k didn't quite hit the sweet spot. It's quite a symmetrical number, but not as nice as 200 miles. So that was it: a double century would be the goal.
To get in that kind of mileage at the slow speed I'm capable of (I was anticipating averaging 20kph), daylight hours alone would be insufficient. I decided to start early in the morning rather than keep riding into the night. The roads are much more docile at 3am than at 8pm in my experience. I was originally planning on pulling an all-nighter, going to a friend's 21st and then starting riding when the party exhausted itself. An unexpected shift at work that meant I wouldn't have been able to fit my run in (choosing exercise over catching up with friends - uh oh addicted), so I went for the more sensible option of getting a few hours sleep and then heading off at 2am.
The alarm went off at 1.55 and I groggily arose, pulled on my running kit and did a slow 7km, the highlight of which was being screamed at by an incomprehensible (probably drunk) motorist. A large breakfast followed and then I crept out of the house, trying not to wake anyone up. Just as the garage door went down, I realised that my riding shoes were still inside and I had no keys with me! Luckily my dog didn't wake everyone up as I crept back in through the laundry door.
The roads were very quiet on the way to the city. It was quite nice. I rode on the bike path til Yarra Boulevard and started doing laps of the 6km stretch up to Melbourne Girls College. It was a nice temperature even at that early hour of the morning, but quite windy, so that coupled with the sleep deprivation made for very slow riding. I wasn't doing much better than 20kph and about an hour in felt like giving up already. My neck was incredibly sore due to the crappy fit of the bike (handlebars pointing down made me stretch too far) and I just felt like getting off the bike, lying down on the road and going to sleep.
It was pretty rough and after toughing it out for 5k, I pulled out the silver foil in my jersey pocket and dropped a NoDoz (100mg of caffeine). It took at least 20 minutes to kick in, but for about half an hour I felt good and the pace dramatically increased. It helped that I'd started practising an oral presentation I was to give the next Wednesday out loud to help alleviate the boredom of doing so many laps:P. After going through it at least four times, (this included being overheard talking to myself by a tradie walking to the freeway renovations on the yarra), I ran out of steam again. Only two more NoDoz tablets left, but I figured there was no point rationing them if I was feeling this crap. This time, the effect was almost immediate and I had no more issues with sleepiness for the rest of the day.
So, with my mojo back and my neck starting to feel a bit better, I knocked out 80km around Yarra Boulevard before it got light. The rising sun was just beautiful. I hadn't witnessed a sunrise in quite a while and this one was a rather special reminder of how nice they can be. A friend had said he was going to be riding down Beach Rd at 8 with the melbourne uni squad, so I patrolled the stretch of bike path towards the city for an hour hoping to run into him. No luck (I think he wussed out and took the train:P), so I rode into the city by myself and got onto Beach Rd.
Still hoping to run into a bunch of Melb uni riders, I slammed it down Beaconsfield parade. Soon I was really moving and even though I'd basically given up on finding my friend, there was no holding back now: it was time for the AP challenge!
The AP Challenge:
The AP (Aggressive Prick) challenge arises from the overcompetitive personality of yours truly, who cannot stand to be passed by anyone when he's actually trying. The goal is to make it from Port Melbourne to Mordialloc (approximately 25km) without anyone getting in front.
The challenge got off to a rocky start when a guy on a single speed (!) passed me when I was going 35kph uphill. Luckily his attempt to spin down the hill was no match for my big gears and 2k at 50kph saw him vanish in my non-existent rear vision mirror. I was on my own for a while and was starting to think this would be a very easy challenge to achieve when I started to hear the fearsome whirr of a campag freewheel behind me.
I refused to look around - that would've been a sign of weakness - and pushed even harder. It seemed like I'd dropped him going up another hill, but he made it up on the downhill and at the bottom of the most dreaded hill on Beach rd, we were neck and neck. I really went for it and found myself having to get out of the saddle to keep going. Halfway up I couldn't take it anymore and my adversary, a guy in his late forties with formidable calves, glided past, offering a conciliatory 'Good work mate'. I puffed and panted and with great difficulty managed to get onto his wheel.
Ah, so this is how he did it. Shielded from the wind by my opponent's bird like frame, it was a lot easier going. I bode my time, saving my energy for the final sprint. The advantage was still on my side, for he was yet to realise that we were actually racing and nor did he know where the finish line was:P Two other guys joined us, creating a bit of a pace line that constantly changed position. A guy on a nice tri-bike led the way, dragging us along at 40kph. I was feeling almost recovered now, and when our leader showed a sign of weakness, flagging three-quarters of the way up a hill, I pounced. There were 2km left til the finish line at the Tour de Cafe and I gave it everything I had, absolutely wrecking myself in the process. My heart was beating out of my chest and my vision began to fade, finer details obscured by lurid flashing lights. ... Too close now! ... I could see the cafe just ahead and to my satisfaction the heavy breathing behind me began to drop back... Made it! Victory was mine! Pulling into the carpark, I nearly collapsed, totally spent. The other riders went past, two smiled and congratulated me, but the guy on the tri bike just glared:P
Probably the best part of the AP challenge is the knowledge that by being a complete arsehole and enticing other riders to match my suicidal pace, I'm completely wrecking their workouts (and my own as well, but oh well:P). After I'd recovered a bit and got back on the road, I watched with equal parts glee and sympathy as the tri-guy fell off a 45kph pace line looking like he had nothing left.
One set of traffic lights later, I met the same fate. It was a classic case of hitting the wall. The 25k to Mordialloc was obviously done purely on glycogen and after 5.5 hrs of riding, I was already close to empty when I started the APC. I struggled on to Frankston and then sprawled down in front of a real estate agent with as much dignity as a wet sponge. Several children jumped over my legs while I tucked into some avocado, bean dip and tomato sandwiches followed by a banana and two energy bars. Mmmm:)
Thus rested and refueled, I set off again, considerably more slowly, with no inclination at all to challenge cyclists who went past me. Slow and steady was my motto and I made it up Mt Eliza and Mt Martha without too much strain. I was in quite a bit of discomfort with my neck pain not showing any sign of disappearing and just concentrated on getting to Sorrento one km at a time. It was tough, especially when I realised that Sorrento and back would be 20k short of a double century, so I'd either have to add a dog leg out to Portsea or do a few more laps of Yarra Boulevard. The thought of getting even further away from the realms of easy public-transport bail-out options was not an attractive option, so I pushed the extra km to the back of my mind and stopped at Sorrento.
I was feeling somewhat vulnerable away from the train lines due to the fact that the pump I was carrying was pretty rubbish, so I wasn't sure that I'd be able to reinflate my spare tube if I got a flat. The realisation of how many favours I'd have to repay if I had to resort to calling my dad to come pick me up (at least an hour's drive) was quite imposing! Puncture free for now at least, I had a second lunch (at the proper time) under the shade of an oak tree by the beach. It had been quite a warm day by the standards of a Melbourne Autumn with the sun out in full force the whole time I'd been riding on Beach rd/Nepean highway. Looking out across the bay now though, the sun was covered by cloud and I was starting to think it might rain. Anxious to avoid such a fate, I hopped back on the bike and pointed my wheel back towards Melbourne.
Even the relatively brief (~10 minutes) lunch stop was enough to cause my knees to complain loudly. I'd done 230k by that stage and it was obviously a bit further than my knees were used to. So once again, the pace was slow and looking down at the speedo, I was mentally adding a few hours to my projected finish time. Thus occupied, I almost didn't notice when another cyclist went past me. I hadn't seen many around and because he seemed to be going a decent pace, I pushed a little and got onto his wheel. After drafting off him for a while, I struck up a conversation at the next set of traffic lights and he turned out to be a terrific bloke. For 20km, I was treated to tales of snakes being decapitated by mountain bike wheels; the highs and lows of the Port Macquarie Ironman; advice on road tyres and even a few swimming tips:D He seemed to have done everything including a Sydney to Melbourne tour by coast in ten days. Seeing as I'm doing a similar tour in reverse with five friends in July, I was very interested to hear what he had to say. It was a big letdown when he had to turn off at Dromana.
Still, I was back in the zone now and kept going at a decent speed..at least until Mount Martha. I'd never ridden back from Sorrento before and I can tell you it's a lot harder going back than it is going out. I was going a snail's pace up that hill! It seemed to go on forever! Still it meant I was almost back at Frankston and the fear of having a mechanical incident and having to make the 'call of shame' lessened significantly.
I'd done about 250k by that point and the double century was now feeling very achievable. I'd ridden back from Frankston so many times before that it was no real trial to do it one more time. I was feeling so relaxed that I didn't even think about doing the AP challenge on the way back from Mordialloc.. that is until this rather overweight man with rolls of back fat exposed underneath his billowing XL t-shirt overtook me riding no hands! A father and his young son I didn't mind so much, but this guy was just too much! Ignoring my protesting knees, I kicked it up a notch and left both the father-son duo and the fat guy behind. When a stupid woman in a car greatly annoyed me by yelling out 'there's a bike path!' just as they sped off from the lights, I kicked it up even higher in the futile hope of voicing my discontent at them at the next set of lights. In my frenzy, I went past two pretty fit guys doing 40kph and for a while thought I might even hold them off, but when they dropped me at the top of a hill, I gave up and went back to relaxed mode..while keeping an eye out to make sure the fat dude didn't catch me again:P
With all that unanticipated speed behind me, I got back to Melbourne well before schedule at 4:45. Really needing a break, I called my mum to see whether it would be worth riding out to Footscray where she and quite a few members of my extended family were celebrating my cousin's birthday. After working out that by the time I got to Footscray, everyone would've been leaving, I elected instead to pass on my birthday greetings over the phone.
I got back to Yarra boulevard with 28km to go. That meant I'd only need to do 3 laps of the 6k course, which sounded pretty achievable. I decided to finish off the last of my food first though and scoffed down two energy bars and a banana. It was a bad idea. My stomach began to churn immediately and after I had a quick drink of water halfway through my first lap, the vomitting started. It was a classic case of exercise-induced digestive system shutdown. My stomach simply couldn't process the volume of food that I'd put in. If I'd done the sensible thing and stopped riding, the blood being routed to my legs could've gone back to my stomach and things probably would've sorted themselves out within ten minutes. But it was getting dark, and despite the vomitting, I was still feeling pretty good. So I kept going, leaning over my shoulder every 45 seconds or so to unleash a very watery dose of banana and apple onto the road, trying my best not to splash any runners using the trail next to the road in the process.
It was not a pleasant experience as you might imagine and the temptation was very strong to forget about the 2.5 laps remaining and just ride home. But to finish with 194 miles on the odometer would've been a huge letdown and I'd ridden home before in the same state (drank too much water after a hard run), so I gutted it out.
Somehow finishing like that seemed more satisfying than finishing really good. The goal of this ride was to reach my limits and I feel like I kind of did. The vomiting was probably avoidable. I didn't need to eat those two energy bars or drink that water and won't make that mistake again. I wouldn't want to do a ride any longer than that though. It was tough and it sure takes a lot of time out of the day. I think the focus for me now is to increase my average speed. In the fifteen hours I spent riding, I could've done 500km if I were really fit! That'll be my next target I think:P
-----------
I pulled up really well from the ride. I wasn't sore at all the next day and did my usual 50k of cycling to and from uni and work as well as two 5k runs (which were quite slow). On Tuesday I was feeling fantastic and actually did myself a bit of damage do to my overenthusiasm. I went for a run in the evening and felt amazing - worked down to 3:30/k without any effort whatsoever. Seeing how well I was doing, I thought I'd test out my leg and do a few striders on the cricket oval. Result: I pulled the same tendon I'd buggered up only a week and a bit ago.
It's not as bad as the first time, but I had to cut my run short on Thursday morning and haven't been out since. I've been icing pretty heavily and massaging with anti-inflammatories and it's definitely much better today, but I'm pretty sure this is going to rule out a proper tilt at my 10k PB at Sandown racecourse tomorrow. I'm still going to go and hopefully run the whole distance, but I'm definitely not going to be doing any desperate dashes to the finish line (my favourite part of racing):(
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I'm finally getting my mountain bike back tomorrow:D (I hope anyway!) After the bike shop (Ashburton cycles - not highly recommended) stuffed around for seven weeks, too lazy to send my forks back to RockShox to be repaired (suspension wasn't locking out anymore) and telling me it was going to be more expensive each time I asked, I eventually gave up and told them to just put some rigid forks on it. Means I won't be getting out to the Lysterfield trails any time soon, but at least it'll be ready for touring/commuting:) Can't wait to put my stuff in panniers instead of cramming it all into my backpack!
Still hoping to run into a bunch of Melb uni riders, I slammed it down Beaconsfield parade. Soon I was really moving and even though I'd basically given up on finding my friend, there was no holding back now: it was time for the AP challenge!
The AP Challenge:
The AP (Aggressive Prick) challenge arises from the overcompetitive personality of yours truly, who cannot stand to be passed by anyone when he's actually trying. The goal is to make it from Port Melbourne to Mordialloc (approximately 25km) without anyone getting in front.
The challenge got off to a rocky start when a guy on a single speed (!) passed me when I was going 35kph uphill. Luckily his attempt to spin down the hill was no match for my big gears and 2k at 50kph saw him vanish in my non-existent rear vision mirror. I was on my own for a while and was starting to think this would be a very easy challenge to achieve when I started to hear the fearsome whirr of a campag freewheel behind me.
I refused to look around - that would've been a sign of weakness - and pushed even harder. It seemed like I'd dropped him going up another hill, but he made it up on the downhill and at the bottom of the most dreaded hill on Beach rd, we were neck and neck. I really went for it and found myself having to get out of the saddle to keep going. Halfway up I couldn't take it anymore and my adversary, a guy in his late forties with formidable calves, glided past, offering a conciliatory 'Good work mate'. I puffed and panted and with great difficulty managed to get onto his wheel.
Ah, so this is how he did it. Shielded from the wind by my opponent's bird like frame, it was a lot easier going. I bode my time, saving my energy for the final sprint. The advantage was still on my side, for he was yet to realise that we were actually racing and nor did he know where the finish line was:P Two other guys joined us, creating a bit of a pace line that constantly changed position. A guy on a nice tri-bike led the way, dragging us along at 40kph. I was feeling almost recovered now, and when our leader showed a sign of weakness, flagging three-quarters of the way up a hill, I pounced. There were 2km left til the finish line at the Tour de Cafe and I gave it everything I had, absolutely wrecking myself in the process. My heart was beating out of my chest and my vision began to fade, finer details obscured by lurid flashing lights. ... Too close now! ... I could see the cafe just ahead and to my satisfaction the heavy breathing behind me began to drop back... Made it! Victory was mine! Pulling into the carpark, I nearly collapsed, totally spent. The other riders went past, two smiled and congratulated me, but the guy on the tri bike just glared:P
Probably the best part of the AP challenge is the knowledge that by being a complete arsehole and enticing other riders to match my suicidal pace, I'm completely wrecking their workouts (and my own as well, but oh well:P). After I'd recovered a bit and got back on the road, I watched with equal parts glee and sympathy as the tri-guy fell off a 45kph pace line looking like he had nothing left.
One set of traffic lights later, I met the same fate. It was a classic case of hitting the wall. The 25k to Mordialloc was obviously done purely on glycogen and after 5.5 hrs of riding, I was already close to empty when I started the APC. I struggled on to Frankston and then sprawled down in front of a real estate agent with as much dignity as a wet sponge. Several children jumped over my legs while I tucked into some avocado, bean dip and tomato sandwiches followed by a banana and two energy bars. Mmmm:)
Thus rested and refueled, I set off again, considerably more slowly, with no inclination at all to challenge cyclists who went past me. Slow and steady was my motto and I made it up Mt Eliza and Mt Martha without too much strain. I was in quite a bit of discomfort with my neck pain not showing any sign of disappearing and just concentrated on getting to Sorrento one km at a time. It was tough, especially when I realised that Sorrento and back would be 20k short of a double century, so I'd either have to add a dog leg out to Portsea or do a few more laps of Yarra Boulevard. The thought of getting even further away from the realms of easy public-transport bail-out options was not an attractive option, so I pushed the extra km to the back of my mind and stopped at Sorrento.
I was feeling somewhat vulnerable away from the train lines due to the fact that the pump I was carrying was pretty rubbish, so I wasn't sure that I'd be able to reinflate my spare tube if I got a flat. The realisation of how many favours I'd have to repay if I had to resort to calling my dad to come pick me up (at least an hour's drive) was quite imposing! Puncture free for now at least, I had a second lunch (at the proper time) under the shade of an oak tree by the beach. It had been quite a warm day by the standards of a Melbourne Autumn with the sun out in full force the whole time I'd been riding on Beach rd/Nepean highway. Looking out across the bay now though, the sun was covered by cloud and I was starting to think it might rain. Anxious to avoid such a fate, I hopped back on the bike and pointed my wheel back towards Melbourne.
Even the relatively brief (~10 minutes) lunch stop was enough to cause my knees to complain loudly. I'd done 230k by that stage and it was obviously a bit further than my knees were used to. So once again, the pace was slow and looking down at the speedo, I was mentally adding a few hours to my projected finish time. Thus occupied, I almost didn't notice when another cyclist went past me. I hadn't seen many around and because he seemed to be going a decent pace, I pushed a little and got onto his wheel. After drafting off him for a while, I struck up a conversation at the next set of traffic lights and he turned out to be a terrific bloke. For 20km, I was treated to tales of snakes being decapitated by mountain bike wheels; the highs and lows of the Port Macquarie Ironman; advice on road tyres and even a few swimming tips:D He seemed to have done everything including a Sydney to Melbourne tour by coast in ten days. Seeing as I'm doing a similar tour in reverse with five friends in July, I was very interested to hear what he had to say. It was a big letdown when he had to turn off at Dromana.
Still, I was back in the zone now and kept going at a decent speed..at least until Mount Martha. I'd never ridden back from Sorrento before and I can tell you it's a lot harder going back than it is going out. I was going a snail's pace up that hill! It seemed to go on forever! Still it meant I was almost back at Frankston and the fear of having a mechanical incident and having to make the 'call of shame' lessened significantly.
I'd done about 250k by that point and the double century was now feeling very achievable. I'd ridden back from Frankston so many times before that it was no real trial to do it one more time. I was feeling so relaxed that I didn't even think about doing the AP challenge on the way back from Mordialloc.. that is until this rather overweight man with rolls of back fat exposed underneath his billowing XL t-shirt overtook me riding no hands! A father and his young son I didn't mind so much, but this guy was just too much! Ignoring my protesting knees, I kicked it up a notch and left both the father-son duo and the fat guy behind. When a stupid woman in a car greatly annoyed me by yelling out 'there's a bike path!' just as they sped off from the lights, I kicked it up even higher in the futile hope of voicing my discontent at them at the next set of lights. In my frenzy, I went past two pretty fit guys doing 40kph and for a while thought I might even hold them off, but when they dropped me at the top of a hill, I gave up and went back to relaxed mode..while keeping an eye out to make sure the fat dude didn't catch me again:P
With all that unanticipated speed behind me, I got back to Melbourne well before schedule at 4:45. Really needing a break, I called my mum to see whether it would be worth riding out to Footscray where she and quite a few members of my extended family were celebrating my cousin's birthday. After working out that by the time I got to Footscray, everyone would've been leaving, I elected instead to pass on my birthday greetings over the phone.
I got back to Yarra boulevard with 28km to go. That meant I'd only need to do 3 laps of the 6k course, which sounded pretty achievable. I decided to finish off the last of my food first though and scoffed down two energy bars and a banana. It was a bad idea. My stomach began to churn immediately and after I had a quick drink of water halfway through my first lap, the vomitting started. It was a classic case of exercise-induced digestive system shutdown. My stomach simply couldn't process the volume of food that I'd put in. If I'd done the sensible thing and stopped riding, the blood being routed to my legs could've gone back to my stomach and things probably would've sorted themselves out within ten minutes. But it was getting dark, and despite the vomitting, I was still feeling pretty good. So I kept going, leaning over my shoulder every 45 seconds or so to unleash a very watery dose of banana and apple onto the road, trying my best not to splash any runners using the trail next to the road in the process.
It was not a pleasant experience as you might imagine and the temptation was very strong to forget about the 2.5 laps remaining and just ride home. But to finish with 194 miles on the odometer would've been a huge letdown and I'd ridden home before in the same state (drank too much water after a hard run), so I gutted it out.
Somehow finishing like that seemed more satisfying than finishing really good. The goal of this ride was to reach my limits and I feel like I kind of did. The vomiting was probably avoidable. I didn't need to eat those two energy bars or drink that water and won't make that mistake again. I wouldn't want to do a ride any longer than that though. It was tough and it sure takes a lot of time out of the day. I think the focus for me now is to increase my average speed. In the fifteen hours I spent riding, I could've done 500km if I were really fit! That'll be my next target I think:P
-----------
I pulled up really well from the ride. I wasn't sore at all the next day and did my usual 50k of cycling to and from uni and work as well as two 5k runs (which were quite slow). On Tuesday I was feeling fantastic and actually did myself a bit of damage do to my overenthusiasm. I went for a run in the evening and felt amazing - worked down to 3:30/k without any effort whatsoever. Seeing how well I was doing, I thought I'd test out my leg and do a few striders on the cricket oval. Result: I pulled the same tendon I'd buggered up only a week and a bit ago.
It's not as bad as the first time, but I had to cut my run short on Thursday morning and haven't been out since. I've been icing pretty heavily and massaging with anti-inflammatories and it's definitely much better today, but I'm pretty sure this is going to rule out a proper tilt at my 10k PB at Sandown racecourse tomorrow. I'm still going to go and hopefully run the whole distance, but I'm definitely not going to be doing any desperate dashes to the finish line (my favourite part of racing):(
--------
I'm finally getting my mountain bike back tomorrow:D (I hope anyway!) After the bike shop (Ashburton cycles - not highly recommended) stuffed around for seven weeks, too lazy to send my forks back to RockShox to be repaired (suspension wasn't locking out anymore) and telling me it was going to be more expensive each time I asked, I eventually gave up and told them to just put some rigid forks on it. Means I won't be getting out to the Lysterfield trails any time soon, but at least it'll be ready for touring/commuting:) Can't wait to put my stuff in panniers instead of cramming it all into my backpack!
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