One-Quarter Mile at a Time: The 100 Miles of Nowhere Report

For those who prefer short rather than drawn out versions of stories, I will share just a brief summary here at the start of Sam's and my 100 Miles of Nowhere ride. If you are wondering whether or not we completed the 100 MoN ride the quick answer is no and yes (for the long answer, I apologize, you'll have to keep reading).

I have been told that donations have been dropped off and made online as well, and that was the important piece of the ride, so thank you to those who gave in whatever form you were able. I am so grateful to each of you for your generosity and I appreciate you supporting a community organization.

And now, for the longer version of our 100 MoN...

This all started off so innocently. We (Sam and I) read every year about Fat Cyclist's 100 Miles of Nowhere ride and fundraiser for Camp Kesem. We always talk briefly about signing up, but usually by the time we come to any sort of answer, the ride is sold out.

The beauty of the 100 MoN is that no one needs to travel away from home. Instead, we all get to set up our own race course and ultimately, if we are specific enough with our category, each individual will win his/her division. Really, it sounds like a race made for me because it is the only sort of race I will ever win on a bicycle.

This year, we were a little more on top of our registration, or I suppose I should say that others were not quite as quick with signing up, so it allowed us the opportunity to be a part of this event.

As I was signing the two of us up for the 100 MoN ride, I had an "aha" moment. Why not do our own fundraising ride for a local organization that can always use some assistance while we ride to support Camp Kesem? It made sense to me and to Sam, and so we came to the conclusion that we would ask for donations to be made to a local organization in support of this ride.

I was excited. Sam was excited. Local friends were... well, I think they thought we were a little nuts, but I'm pretty sure they've come to expect a bit of semi-bizarre behavior from the two of us and were, at least to our faces, supportive of the endeavor.

We knew we had to select a date because the "official" date of the ride is November 7 this year, and we are well aware that the combination of Colorado, decent weather, and the month of November is unpredictable at best. It may still be gorgeous and sunny and we'll be waiting for snow, or we could be presented with a foot of white stuff on the ground.

We also have an array of happenings between October and mid-November, making a weekend day very challenging to devote entirely to a 100 mile ride. The only date that was available was Sunday, October 11, and so that became the date we would ride our 100 MoN.

The physicality of the ride was also of great concern to me, though I was trying not to let it overwhelm me. While Sam has been busy year-long preparing for various endurance races and events, I have not. With multiple injuries at the beginning of the year my saddle time has been sub-par. Well, really it's been sub-sub-par, if I'm completely honest.

The last time I rode 100 miles in a day was over two years ago. The last time I rode over 50 miles was more than a year ago. My longest journey via bike this year was under 40 miles and even that had been several months. In fact, my total mileage in the saddle over this summer and early fall is less than I'd normally ride when we're still coming out of our snowy months in the spring.

With each passing day, I became more panicked. How was I supposed to ride 100 miles when my typical bike trip has been somewhere around 5 miles? It's like telling a person who's been running 1 mile a couple times a week that s/he is going to now run a 26.2 mile marathon tomorrow. The ridiculousness of it is staggering to me on this side of things. Why on earth would I ever think I could do this?

Sharing my doubts with others went without any sort of pity. Typical responses were, "Oh, you'll be fine," or "This is your thing...You'll enjoy it." Apparently, no one was feeling bad for me and the situation I'd put myself into - and I can't say I blame them.

In a typical riding year, it's true, this wouldn't have been a huge deal. Challenging, yes, but unattainable, no. However, when I haven't put the time in the saddle, it doesn't matter how easy or slow I pedal, it's pretty well impossible to get this sort of distance completed. In fact, going slower is part of the problem because it only extends the time on the bike.

Streets in red would be our "race course."

Streets in black had too much motorized traffic to be considered.

*Map from Google

We had (at the very last moment) finally decided which course we'd be riding. We selected the 1/4 mile stretch of 10 streets running parallel. I thought this would actually work out nicely because it would mean 10 miles on each of the 10 streets. The thought of riding one street repeatedly for 100 miles was more than I could handle, so this seemed to fulfill the "nowhere" requirement and it would hopefully keep us somewhat entertained.

Or so we thought.

It's amazing how each of these streets looks remarkably similar when ridden back and forth, up and down, for an hour or so a piece. It also turned out that our measurements were slightly off. I had thought that the streets were 0.2 miles in one direction and Sam thought they were 0.25 miles long. In reality, the distance was somewhere in the middle at about 0.22 with each run.

Rather than trying to count laps, we decided to simply reach the 10 mile goal on each street and move on to the next.

Riding did not get off to the best start... But, I should probably go back a bit in time to help fill in some gaps and to help further illustrate why I would be struggling just a few miles into our 100 mile adventure.

On Wednesday prior to the 100 MoN, I had missed my doctor's appointment/adjustment for my back. Well, I didn't miss it, but the doc was ill and unable to come to the office, so I figured it would be a good test to see how long I could go without an adjustment. I had already been experiencing some spasms and pain, but figured that at some point I'd have to stretch beyond my current level of comfort. I made an appointment for Monday (as I was assured he'd be back in the office by then), which I thought would be great as a follow up to our 100 MoN on Sunday.

Friday, I went to kickboxing. I don't normally go to classes on Fridays, but it was a special circumstance and while there, part of the workout was a set of chariot races. If you're unfamiliar with this exercise, a band (or in this case, our belts) is wrapped around a person's mid-section while another person holds the "reins" of the belt from behind. The front person then runs forward while the person holding the belt attempts to pull in the opposite direction, making it more challenging for the front person to move forward.

I love this exercise! It's exhausting and, if done properly, is a phenomenal workout. It's also how I triggered some severe pelvis/back issues earlier in the summer. It's important to note here that technically I had not been released by my doctor to do this particular exercise, but I've missed this particular workout so much that I just had to participate.

On Friday, I also discovered a painful saddle sore. As I was riding to kickboxing I thought that perhaps I was just sitting oddly on the saddle, but as it turns out I was very wrong. If you've never experienced these, count your lucky stars, and if you have, then you know the sort of thoughts that were running through my mind with a 100 mile ride looming on the horizon.

After Friday's chariot race session, I was feeling some pain, but nothing that I didn't think I'd overcome. However, on Saturday when Sam and I went for our normally-attended kickboxing class, we did chariot races again.

Now, I have to say, our instructors are great about working with injuries. I could very easily have opened my mouth and said I needed to sit this round out... but, I didn't.

Instead, I participated each round  - and there were many - (though I did ask my belt holder to take it easy on me) and at the end of class proclaimed to Sam, "I think I'm broken."

I wasn't exactly broken-broken, but I was definitely feeling the ramifications of my actions. Between the two days of pulling, I had managed to somehow mess up my heel/Achilles area on my right side as well. I limped my way through the day, and managed to sit through most of the wedding reception for friends we attended that same evening.

That night, the evening before our 100 MoN ride, our Labrador, who normally sleeps on her dog bed at the foot of our bed (or in the guest room, or on the living room sofa), decided that she wanted to sleep on top of me in our bed. Normally, she's a very restless sleeper and moves after only a few minutes, but on this night she had decided that I am the very best human pillow on the planet and she did not move all night long.

It was a long, long night.

When I woke, I was miserable. I don't think I'd slept much more than a couple of hours total and every part of my body felt mangled from the odd positions I'd laid in throughout the night.

I got up and Sam was already busy shuffling about the house. He's an early riser by nature, so he had been tuning bikes and preparing for the ride long before I was even considering leaving bed. I was cranky and not wanting to ride at all. "Are you sure you want to do this?" I questioned, half way hoping that he'd say we could skip it. But, I knew we were riding, whether I was up to it or not.

The start was crisp, an ideal autumn morning. The sun was shining bright, the bikes were ready to go, and I was trying to internally pump myself up to get through the next 10-12 hours.

I knew our pace would be slow. If we averaged 10 mph, I thought we should consider ourselves lucky. We were both on ill-suited bikes for speed, Sam on his single speed mountain bike and me on my touring bike weighing no less than 50 pounds (only a slight exaggeration - though I do love this bike, despite its weightiness).

Could we have selected different bikes? Yes. Should we have chosen different bikes? Probably. But, we were close to home, so if we wanted to exchange rides that would be pretty easy to accomplish.

We knew our course would be riding residential streets with a lot of motorized and pedestrian traffic running perpendicular to us. At each end, we'd have to remain observant for turning traffic. Had I the foresight to truly consider what this would entail, we may have selected another more suitable, less mentally taxing course.

As we started out, I could feel the strain in my heel while pedaling. I could also feel my lower back muscles pulling, which wasn't giving me great confidence. I knew I was going to have to work it out in order to make it to the end, so I tried to just put it out of my mind and enjoy the morning. I was also dealing with my saddle sore issue and trying to locate a comfortable spot to rest this tender spot, but that wasn't off to to the best start either.

Sam seemed to be struggling a bit as well. He was shaking out his hands, trying to work out apparent numbness. He also seemed unsettled on his position as he would wiggle about from time to time on the saddle.

It wasn't the ideal start, for either of us.

As we started at block 1 of our 10 block course, our pace was initially quite slow. I think we were both a bit tired and unsure of how much we should try to push our speed, but eventually we found a rhythm and traded out who was leading the way.

We marveled at how different this block of houses seemed from our own, despite the identical era, and discussed various front yard landscaping and how these ideas might work for our home as well. We took in the variety of Halloween decorations and wondered aloud whether we would see any Trick-or-Treaters this year in our new digs.

We chatted about current bikes, and potential future bikes, and spoke again about the possibility of selling off one of our vehicles.

By now, I was certain we were done with this block of our course.

Alas, we were approaching only the four mile mark, and I was positive there was no way I was making it to the end of our 100 MoN.

Just a half hour into the ride, we were pretty well out of things to say to each other. Instead, we hunkered down and plodded back and forth on our designated path, smiling at the people who watched us pacing in front of their yards. I have to be honest, I'm surprised not one word was said to us by anyone in the neighborhood regarding our pacing.

At 58 minutes in, we had reached the end of our first segment and I was happy to be moving on to see different sights and hear different sounds. I was actually feeling physically okay as well and was hopeful that I would see this ride to its completion.

To my dismay, the sights and sounds of block two were not at all dissimilar to block #1. There were some minor nuances that changed, but not enough to make for a new round of happy chatter between us for any length of time. Surprisingly though, there were different smells. While block one had filled the air with odors of frying sausage, block two wreaked of burning tires as though someone had set a pile of rubber ablaze and left it to burn for weeks. It was an odd and unexpected change in olfactory impressions.

By the end of segment #2, I was pretty beat up. My back was really hurting and my brain was not doing well with the monotony of our travels. We were 20 miles in and I knew I was desperately in need of relief from pain in all its forms.

I requested a brief break for a refill of water and a bathroom stop (I'd needed facilities from the time we started but decided to hope for "re-absorbtion" which didn't happen) after which we rode back out to start segment #3 of our course.

When we had initially discussed this course as a possibility, we failed to realize that not all of the street segments have the same elevation. The portion we'd tested was very slightly uphill one direction and a very slight descent in the other. However, several of the other streets are not the same. As it turned out, many of these start a fairly unexpected incline about half way up the path. It would have been of little consequence in every day riding, but when anticipating a reasonably flat course, it can be a bit of a shock as it's repeated over and over again.

After passing this several times, I had to take a photo. What exactly does "I Tomato Tommy" mean? Is this the answer here?

Each time we reached the climbing portion of the lap, my pace would slow. My lack of training was surely playing a part in all of this, despite my mental efforts to shuck off such a ridiculous idea.

Sam was shaking his hands more and more in attempt to find relief from the numbness, but he was doing well, as would've been expected.

I find that one of two things happens to me during repetitious events. I either tune everything out and go into a kind of meditative state until I reach the end, or I focus on everything that is hurting until I can no longer stand to press on.

Unfortunately for me, this particular ride found me facing the latter reality.

As I struggled to pedal back and forth on block #3, I asked Sam if we could take a 15-20 minute break and then head back out. He agreed and after finishing 30 miles, we headed home for what was intended to be a brief stop.

At home once again, we decided that switching bikes might be a good idea. Sam opted for his single speed road bike and I hopped on my heavier road bike that was still significantly lighter than the touring bike.

We made it all of 20 feet down the road when I realized I wasn't going to survive this. I pulled off to the side while Sam stared at me, wondering why I'd suddenly halted. "I'm not going to make it," I announced after standing for a few seconds. "My back is killing me, my heel can barely turn with my foot on the pedals anymore. I don't know what to do. If we keep going, I can guarantee the best I'm going to do is one more block today - and that's if my back doesn't completely give out because it's nearly there as it is."

We stood in silence for a couple of minutes. I don't think Sam really knew what to say, or how or if he should push me to continue on. After a few of these quiet minutes I came to the understanding that my body was not going to allow me to ride this distance in my current condition.

In truth, I was quite upset by this realization, despite the fact that I'd wanted to skip out on this ride all together. I felt like a failure. I knew that Sam would push on no matter what, but I hated the fact that my body, in its current state, was not having this.

We turned around and went home.

I sat on our couch and pondered all of this. The reality of failure stings, and despite my hard-headedness or determination when necessary, I was frustrated that injuries and my own lack of training through the season was creating this reality.

Also stirring in my head was the thought that I now had to explain this to others. How would I relay what had taken place to those who were expecting us to finish? I know most are understanding about injuries, but I had signed myself up for this and should be able to see it through.

For several hours I tried to talk it out. I relived my failures with bikes and physical aspirations over the last couple of years and beat myself up internally pretty badly. It's hard not to do so when just two short years ago this would not have seemed like such a monumental task. I went to bed that evening feeling defeated and as though I let others and myself down.

That could easily have been the end of our 100 MoN story, but it isn't.

The next morning I woke up with a thought. There had been no rule stating that the 100 MoN had to all be completed in a single day. In fact, there was no rule that stated the ride had to be 100 miles at all, but in the spirit of the race, I believe that many want to see the 100 miles completed in a single day. That wasn't happening for me, but maybe I could still make the 100 miles happen if I spread it out over several days.

I had made a commitment to complete this ride and even if I couldn't get it done in one day, I would finish what I'd started, one way or another.

Sam wouldn't be able to join me for this portion because of work, but it didn't mean I couldn't go on my own and complete this.

Start of day 2's ride

I decided to take it on the way that I would usually ride. Instead of getting all the long-ride bike gear on, I'd just wear what I would normally wear on a bike to get around town. I'd take along the iPod, and try to just enjoy my surroundings too, which would hopefully help the time pass a bit more easily.

On Monday, I took about an hour and went and rode one more street and 10 more miles of our 100 MoN.

My saddle sore was particularly painful this day and that 10 miles was all I could manage, but Tuesday I woke up feeling slightly more energized and in less pain, so I went to work completing 25 more miles and 2.5 more segments/streets.

Some of these roads are quite horrible to ride, I have to say. It came to be that on some of the streets it felt rougher than riding on some mountain trails. And if you don't believe me, you can watch the nauseatingly bouncy video below (the return trip is far rougher than the out trip) that I took of one of my up and back laps on one such street. Apologies in advance for the background noise of me sniffling/clearing my throat and the creaking of the bike that day.

Day four was set to be a busy day for me with quite a few things to get done. It didn't help that my back was acting up and my saddle sore seemed to be growing by the minute, so I planned to do as much as I could, but knew I wouldn't be out long.

What I hadn't anticipated was the fact that the three streets I would be riding actually have a stop sign in the middle of each lap. I don't know why this hadn't occurred to me prior to the ride, but once crossing over to the other side of the route, the street layout changes slightly and the cross traffic becomes the through traffic while the up and down traffic has the stop sign.

I wasn't entirely sure how to deal with this. Stopping every lap would be a huge time disadvantage, but I also couldn't run through the sign - for many reasons. There was a fair amount of cross traffic coming through and I could quickly see that I would be stopping completely each time I came through. Yes, it is a stop sign and I should be stopping anyway (and for the record, I do stop at stop signs), but I was trying to figure out a way to follow the law and not have an inconvenience repeated over and over again.

As I tried to figure this out, I decided I would do a lap in the park that is right next to the street I'd started riding. It's a small park, but there is a path running through it, so I thought perhaps I could substitute this route for the road.

I quickly learned otherwise. There were far too many tight turns that would require me to stop and dismount. Additionally, there were several small children playing in the park (and that is its purpose, so I had no issue with this) making for an inconvenient short lap. I decided to go back to the road I'd been riding and ride half laps and then I'd cross over and do the other side of the street.

My path that was 0.22 miles was now 0.10 miles. It grew dizzying very quickly.

To make matters worse, an unmarked police car had set up shop on the street I was riding and he was keeping a very close eye on me. I knew I wasn't doing anything wrong, but I have to admit it must've appeared terribly suspicious to see this person riding her bike in circles on half a block, round and round, back and forth.

Eventually, my nervousness got the better of me and I opted to head home. After only 10 miles, I called it quits and figured I'd also likely need another plan to finish out the 100 MoN ride because these last few streets would be the death of me if I had to stop every 0.10 miles.

Twenty-five more miles to finish this ride up. Where would I ride? I figured I could go back through the streets I'd already been down, but some of them were so rough that I wasn't sure I wanted to do that again. It's one thing to ride them not knowing what's coming, but quite another to know what I was in store for before I even arrived.

I also pondered the idea of using our alternate route selection as the finishing route. With a four mile one way trip, those 25 miles would go much faster than they would on these short street segments.

There was also the possibility of selecting an entirely different place to finish up the 100 MoN, but where and what?

Ever wonder what it looks like on a GPS report to go round and round in the same spot? This is it! :)

When I woke on Day 5, I had made a decision: I was going to re-ride the streets we'd already been riding. It was the simplest choice and while there would be rough spots, at least there was an element of familiarity.

On this day, I was not at all excited about riding. In fact, I considered not riding at all, but the other part of me wanted to end this - to know that I had completed the 100 miles, even if it wasn't being done in the manner I'd anticipated.

Something strange happened though as I started riding. Actually, it wasn't at all strange when I think about it because once on a bike, I find that my mood generally does improve. As I started riding, I felt happy. I was hurting from all the aforementioned issues, but I was content.

I went back to the starting street of our 100 MoN ride and went to work. I had made a mental plan knowing that there were now 7 possible streets for me to ride without meeting up with a stop sign in the middle. I had 25 miles to travel which meant I could travel 6 of the streets for four miles and the last one for a mile.

As I started riding the first street though, something interesting took place. You'll recall I mentioned that one of two things happens to me during repetitive events? Well, this time I found myself in a trance-like state, focusing more on ideas and less aware of physical pain. I truly lost myself in thought.

Before I knew it, I had surpassed the four mile mark and was at about mile 6. The decision was made at that point to change the distribution a bit and ride 10 miles on the first street and then split the remaining 15 miles into 3 mile segments on 5 of the remaining 6 streets.

However, once again I experienced this meditative sort of mindset and missed the 10 mile mark. I then decided 15 miles would be the point of departure and I'd split the remaining 10 miles into two-mile rounds on 5 remaining streets.

This time, I tried to remain aware of mileage so that I didn't miss the end, but I have to admit it was sad to leave this first block and move on. This short distance had felt happy and I had found a rhythm. I probably should've just completed the ride there, but I'd set up this plan to hit all the remaining streets and so I moved on.

As expected, the remaining mileage passed pretty quickly - at least mentally. Riding only 2 miles each block seemed like nothing after doing repeats for longer distances.

It was a strange feeling at the end of all of this. It was really rather uneventful on the whole, but it almost felt as though I was saying goodbye to a friend. I'd grown used to many of the sights, sounds and smells on each of the streets and there was something rather comforting in the familiarity I'd come to know.

Sure, I had favorites along the way and some that I'd rather not ride again - at least in repetitious loops - but they each had their own sort of personality, despite being constructed by the same builder multiple decades ago. Time has given each block its own individuality and I was just beginning to appreciate each for these qualities.

The end left me with some amount of contentment, knowing that while I hadn't pedaled in the manner I'd anticipated, I had at least completed the mileage I'd committed to riding. In total, 101.1 miles was covered and it took five days to complete the course. I likely had and will have the most drawn out 100 MoN course and probably the slowest speeds, but that just means I surely clinched my category for a top podium spot, right?

Sam still has plans to complete the 100 MoN as well. Finding the time to do so is a bit more challenging, but he'll get it done. I may even end up riding it with him too.

Did you or will you ride your own 100 MoN course - whatever distance you selected? Always interested to hear how others will do or did pedal on their own course. Please do share. And again, thank you to those who donated and are continuing to give. I cannot detail my gratitude enough to each of you for your kindness.

RME Battle the Bear

Way back in the early part of the year, Sam had been looking for local(ish) races as training for participation in the Leadville Trail 100 MTB. Because he knew at the end of summer last year that he'd be entering Leadville again this year, he was trying to get a jump on some rides that might help. He came across the Rocky Mountain Endurance series and the Battle the Bear race that was scheduled for spring time, but just as he was preparing to sign up we received a lot of rain which flooded and muddied local trails.

At that point, organizers decided to cancel or postpone the ride (depending on what became of weather and ground conditions). When Sam realized it had been rescheduled for early October, he decided to go for it, even though it wouldn't be training for Leadville as he'd originally hoped. Instead, it would act as kind of season closer, of sorts.

I had assumed that he'd go alone to the race because (at least compared to other endurance races he's done) this one is fairly short distance-wise, and only about an hour and a half from home. Additionally, it's a lap race, so he'd be coming back around to aid every 10 miles, so I kind of figured I'd just be a useless body standing around for no real reason.

But, he requested my presence, so I ended up standing at the start/finish line watching riders come around each lap. The announcer was actually fairly entertaining, so that helped with keeping the watchers somewhat energized, and there wasn't too large a crowd riding so it was pretty easy to spot specific riders as they came through.

Rather than boring you with my stories of self-entertainment while waiting for Sam, I figured it would probably be more entertaining to hear his side of matters [Hint: I do a lot of jumping jacks when it's cold to keep warm or I attempt to lure strangers into conversation when it's not so cold], so here is his take on another new-to-him endurance ride.

Why do I do these random end-of-season things?

I had originally planned to participate in the RME series Battle the Bear race in May, but it had been rained out. My mom found and reminded me that they'd rescheduled for October 4, and I reluctantly registered for the event - and then quickly forgot about it.

The weather and a small portion of the course

Battle the Bear was supposed to be the second race in the RME series of 4 races. It was originally a 6-lap, 60-mile race with about 800 feet of climbing each lap; however, they ended up shortening it due to the change of schedule to a 5-lap, 50-mile race.

The week prior I hadn't tapered or really rested. I was viewing this event as a season closer and an opportunity to test out my "new geared" bike, and to get it dialed in just the way I wanted.

The park was a good venue that was clean with nice people running the show, but it was pretty quiet. There wasn't the buzzing that has been typical around the Leadville series I've been more involved with riding.

We arrived plenty early. [G.E.'s note: Much to my dismay - both because I missed out on sleep and I don't do well standing around for too long a time.] I checked in, got my designation and my AGE marked on my left calf. This was a strange thing to me. I don't really want to know the age of everyone because then I KNOW that I'm competing against them directly.

It was cool outside and very overcast, and it would stay this way all day. [G.E.'s note: It was very cold, I'd say. Maybe not for Colorado winter, but certainly compared to the weather we'd been having.]

An hour passed and it was time to get setup and ready to ride with the Endurance group. [G.E.'s note: This particular series has different categories and ride lengths that starts with the Endurance group, then the XC group, Appetizer, and finally juniors with each division riding fewer miles on the course.] The Endurance group started with the single speeds, the pros, and then in age group waves starting with the youngest and heading to the oldest. I'm getting older for these races, so I waited a bit to get going, although they did start each group fairly close together with all groups headed out in under 15 minutes from the start.

The pros starting their first lap

I didn't think that I would be caught in such a fast event. Whoa, did they start and maintain quick speeds. I spent the entire first lap getting passed over and over again, and I couldn't keep my eyes off the "calf markings," and realizing how many were passing me. The majority of the course was comprised of single track with a small amount of wooded area, a stretch of sand, a public park, a dirt path on the side of the road, two water crossings and three climbs - one very small one, one steep and short, and one reasonably long and steep climb right toward the end of the laps.

Lap 1
I'm dying. I'm convinced of it. I found myself caught up chasing a group. I have no idea why I do this, but it seems to be consistent whether riding or running. I nearly blew out my lungs the first half of lap one. The first half felt like a gradual climb until the half way point, after which there's some up and down. At about mile 7.5 there's a 1.5 mile climb that is 4%+ grade, and in between everything were many, many goat heads, some sandy points and a water crossing in the last half-mile stretch of the course that continued to get deeper throughout the race.

At the end of this lap, I was not feeling well, but I stuck to my plan and didn't stop to re-fuel as I came around to start lap two. I had all the GU I needed and I was sipping my water/energy drink mix while riding, so G.E.'s attempt to hand off a fresh bottle went unrewarded as I went on to the second lap. [G.E.'s note: I think I'm getting better at the hand-off though - even if you don't need/want it.]

Lap 2
Someway, somehow, I actually felt good. Everyone who was going to pass me had gone by and I was with racers going similar speeds and who would likely have similar finish times. One in particular was stationed about 50 yards in front of me for most of the race. I would refer to him as my "pee buddy." We'd actually had a conversation at the porta-john prior to the race start, hence the nickname. And I wonder why I don't have friends. Anyway, the lap was going well.

I felt good and I was putting up consistent speeds and starting to get used to where everything was on the course.

What I am not used to riding is a suspension fork. Normally I ride with a rigid fork on my single speed and I found that the ride felt squirrely the entire time with the added cushion. I'm considering dropping the squish because it didn't make my hands feel much better.

At the end of lap two, I stopped briefly, didn't say much, [G.E.'s note: Nor would I expect you to - you're racing!] swigged the rest of my bottle and swapped for a fresh one.

Lap 3
So, I'm feeling pretty good, chasing "pee buddy," and maneuvering better as each lap goes by. At this point, I could anticipate what was coming next, how to handle it and so on. It was actually kind of nice and I was thinking that I wish the race were a bit longer.

I had not flatted like many others had (as I would hear later) [G.E.'s note: The announcer had made several comments about the course having a ton of goat heads and stated that a few who were expected to win ended up dealing with flats because of these darn thorns.], the bike was doing great, and I had grown somewhat used to the squishy front end.

As the lap wrapped up, I was getting tired, but feeling positive with just two laps to go.

Lap 4
Half way through this lap, I started to get the I-don't-want-to-do-this-anymore feeling. I was starting to drag (not bonk - I actually never bonked). It was just the reality of realizing that there was still 15 miles to go and it's all going to look the same as what I've just ridden.

This time, chasing him up the big climb, at mile 7.5 I caught "pee buddy." He had tapped out while climbing and just pulled over.

Sadly, by this point I was being lapped by guys with the "P" written on their calves, and the demoralizing part of the race was back. Once or twice I pulled over to just allow the pros to pass on climbs. Yes, it slowed me down a bit, but I didn't care because I knew I wasn't going to come close to winning with such a swiftly moving group. [G.E.s note: They were a really fast moving group! The professionals were actually finishing before many had even completed their third lap.]

Lap four was coming to an end, and I was tired. But, at least there was only one lap left. I stopped briefly one more time to re-load water and I was off for the final round.

Lap 5
I happen to hear the announcer talking about the woman riding through the lap with me, who is a local Cross champ. I decided I would chase her and that would probably put me in a pretty good position to finish.

She was fast, but not crazy fast. Through the first four miles of the final lap, I stuck within 40 yards of her.... and then, we came to the small first water crossing.

There was a slower rider coming up. The Cross racer was prepared and passed the slower rider on the inside of the mud hole, but I wasn't close enough to make it by. So, the slower rider proceeded to sit in front of me for the next half mile so that I couldn't get around.

Finally, he bonked out, but it was too late at mile five for me to catch my rabbit.

I pushed hard up the last climbs and felt decent ascending up the final climb at mile 7.5. As I started to head down the last descent, I took a peek at my front tire. I was getting my first flat on a mountain bike in three years! I was not happy. At this point, I was hoping it would be a slow enough leak to get me through the last mile of the race. But, as I descended, things were not looking good.

With about a half mile left in the race, I had to stop and make some sort of fix. Using my CO2 cartridge seemed like the quickest fix because it would take a bit of time to swap the tube or patch it on the race course and I was almost finished. I still probably killed about three minutes here, but I was back in business.

I rolled through the now three-foot deep water crossing and right into the finish... and for some reason, kept pedaling. [G.E.'s note: It was rather amusing because the announcer said, "Dude! You're done. You can stop pedaling now!" I think Sam was just getting his second wind and was ready to go for another lap. :)] The announcer made a comment about stopping, but I'm not sure why I kept going.

The Finish
04:06:XX was my finish time. It was pretty fast given my recent history, lack of training, and so on, though certainly not anywhere close to finishing with the fastest riders. I averaged over 12 mph and got my first MTB flat in quite awhile.

It was a fun day. It didn't have the enthusiasm of the Leadville series, and people were less prone to chit-chat, but perhaps that was because it was a "make-up" race and the day had been super gloomy throughout?

I would consider doing this one again, and possibly the whole series of races next year. The registration costs were reasonable, it was a distance that is easily traveled from home the morning of the race, and it was pretty fun.

Maybe I'll even be fast someday!

A Bicycle Highway

Just a quick reminder about the upcoming 100 Miles of Nowhere, and more importantly a reminder to get your donations in (be they cash, goods, or your time volunteering). Donations have been coming in, but I want you to know there's still time.

*Image found here

Online monetary donations to the OUR Center can be made here
Clothing/Household items can be dropped off at 50 E. Rogers Rd
Food donations are taken in at 250 3rd Ave
Cash donations/gift certificates are received at 303 Atwood St
Child care items may be dropped at 501 5th Ave --*Please note they cannot accept any toys, but they can accept cash donations at this address as well

(All of these locations makes it easy to see why the new center being built is definitely needed)

As for our 100 Miles of Nowhere ride itself, it's slated for Sunday, October 11, but has a small chance of getting postponed to the weekend following due to some circumstances that may affect our abilities that particular day (not weather, surprisingly - as it's supposed to be one of the warmest/sunniest days locally).

Whatever happens, the ride is taking place and if you'd like to do your own, feel free to complete it on any day that makes sense for you. If you don't want to participate in the ride, please still take a moment to donate. Information is available via the links above (in case you missed them), or donate to your own local cause that you believe is in need -- either way, please let me know about your donation as I'm attempting to keep a tally of all the donations being made.

Okay, enough about that for now.

One other reminder, in case you've yet to be made aware, Coffeeneuring is officially under way. If you missed the first weekend, never fear, there is still time to participate. In quick summary, your challenge is simply to ride to seven different locations for coffee (or other bikey-type beverage). If you'd like the official rules and a more detailed explanation, you can find that here.

Before and after #coffeeneuring. Don't you hate it when your date falls asleep on you? pic.twitter.com/wboSFSnb6M

— No Spandex Required (@NoSpandexReq) October 4, 2015

This may be one of my favorite photos thus far with Coffeeneuring.

I myself am not drinking coffee during the challenge after a failed experiment with just a very small amount while my brother-currently-living-in-Australia was visiting a few weeks ago. I swear, there must be higher concentrations of caffeine in coffee because it did not go well for me (I was jittery for a good 24 hours after only about 1/4 of my 10 oz cup). However, I am still riding along and will figure out a suitable beverage at each stop (hopefully something beyond water, which was the choice at our stop over the weekend).

A digression regarding my intolerance to caffeine (because I can't help myself).

When I was in college (the first time), I had two jobs and was going to school full time. To make matters worse, I was dating a guy who lived over 300 miles from my location. One weekend, I only had to work one of my jobs and as I was leaving work on Sunday made the decision to drive up and see him. Because I had about 15 hours to get there, see him, and turn around and come home, I was struggling to stay awake on my return drive home.

So, I did what seemed reasonable at the time and pulled off to get some coffee at a 7-Eleven/Quick-mart type of store. While there, I decided to also pick up some caffeine pills for an added boost to get me back in time. I read the directions, took one capsule and got on the road.

As I was driving, I continued to feel overly sleepy, so I took another. About 10 minutes later, I still wasn't feeling anything, so I took two more. And, because yours truly isn't the brightest person on the planet, then popped another for good measure (you know, because they "weren't working").

About 30 minutes later, I thought I was going to die. My heart was pounding out my chest and I didn't seem to be able to blink. As I continued down the road, things got worse. I started sweating profusely and then got the chills so bad that no amount of heat seemed to help. I was convinced that I was not going to make it back home alive.

As I pulled into the parking lot at work and went to my desk, my supervisor immediately took notice of my state of being and asked me what had happened (thankfully, she was not the judgmental sort, but rather more of a concerned mother type). I explained as best I could because at this point I must've sounded drunk as I couldn't form sentences very well. She offered to take me to the hospital (I didn't think that was necessary - or probably more that I was embarrassed and didn't want to explain what I'd done to myself), so instead I went home, drank about a gallon of water and attempted to exercise the caffeine out of my body.

I swore that I would never over-indulge in coffee or caffeine again after that because it pretty well scared me (almost literally) to death.

Prior to that incident, I used to drink a fair amount of coffee, and while it helped keep me awake on my overnight shifts, I'd never experienced anything like this over-caffeinated experience. After that incident, I've had great difficulty with caffeine, particularly from coffee for some reason.

End of digression.

There's been some recent chatter regarding the removal of a safe bike lane in Boulder. Here's one of the recent tweets about the removal:

This is what progress looks like in Boulder this a.m. RIP safe bike lane. @CommunityCycles pic.twitter.com/uTchLhToNX

— Clark Rider (@ClarkRider) October 5, 2015

It's difficult to hear, read, or experience the removal of a safer bike lane, and particularly with this one as it's 1) coming from Boulder, a community that I often ride through or to as a destination, and 2) because Boulder is known for its bike-friendliness. There are definitely some not-so-pleased cyclists in the area, and I'm not thrilled either.

I am trying to be someone who attempts to see both sides of the matter. The reason for the removal, or at least the stated reason for the removal, is that motorists have not appreciated losing a portion of their traveling lanes on a heavily utilized roadway. It likely adds to the issue that this is an election year for local reps... but, I won't get into the politics of all of that.

Instead, what I'd rather focus on is an addition of fantastic bikeways.

I had reason to travel down to the south Boulder/north Denver area recently and took notice of the soon-to-be-completed path that will connect Boulder to Denver via an 18-mile bike path.

This path has been in the works for some time and has been somewhat useable for about a year now (to my understanding), but I was so excited to see that it is nearing completion. I've been aware of the plan for quite awhile, but to see it coming to fruition was something of a treat!

Currently, there are about 11 miles completed, with the remainder scheduled for completion in 2016. I am excited about the connectedness taking place with this path, and while it's been stated that likely no one would use this to commute via bike from Boulder to Denver (or vice versa), I can see it becoming a possibility as the region continues to grow and motorized traffic becomes more of an issue.

This seems as though it could be almost labeled a bicycle highway, as it travels almost exactly (there are a few diversions along the way) the route of the motorized traffic along US 36. I've yet to personally pedal the route, but it's on my list of things to do, and I love that it creates a far more direct path from one region to another allowing for quicker and more efficient travel between cities.

What's going on in your area? Any news regarding bike paths or improvements? What changes would you like to see to the pathways you travel by bike?