Many stores open days and weeks before their “grand opening.” Thus it is with my return to cycling. My “official” return from cancer is my own designed ‘Toona Metric Century which will be in Altoona, Pa., on April 3. But it would be foolhardy to jump into a 100 km ride with three massive climbs without riding first. So this weekend were my first group rides at pace since my cancer surgery on November 9, 2009.
Atop Birdneck, Reston, Va – March 6
The forecast for yesterday was a high of 50 degrees (10 C) — finally — but it was only 36 (2 C) when we left The Bike Lane in Reston, Va. And it was windy too. About 30 riders showed up. I felt good. Had no problems keeping pace with the group. In fact, one rider posted that the pace seemed fast for the first ride of the year (above freezing). Plus we had a catered breakfast back at The Bike Lane when finished. Life is good!
Yesterday’s mileage was a little less than 28 miles as we had to cut out the access paths due to snow and ice and stay on some main roads. In the afternoon I tacked on nine additional miles to Forest Park H.S. to see a college baseball game that didn’t materialize. Bonus Miles!
Barry – Inside the Bike Lane, Reston, Va.
Today was a Potomac Pedalers’ ride called The Hills of Ellicott City. Ellicott City is a historic railroad town, in Howard County, Maryland, adjacent to Baltimore County. It is deep in the Patapsco River valley.
B&O Railroad Museum, Ellicott City
This ride is simple. Ride 13 miles to Ellicott City, find a steep hill, climb, descend, repeat. On our first climb, two riders had gone 1/4 mile ahead so our group of nine hit the steep climb on Ilchester Road together. The climb had two steeps sections, one at 18% and the other may have pushed 20% (I was out of the saddle then and couldn’t read my Garmin display). I caught one of the two riders that had gone way ahead. And waited at the top for the group.
Ellicott City, Md.
We also climbed College Ave. (16%) and Westchester (an easy 12%). This is the place to find short punchy hills.
I wonder where the battle is
I was far back at the start of the climb on Westchester since rather and stop and put a foot down to make my left turn against the oncoming traffic on Frederick Road, I continued up the street and did a U-turn when traffic was clear. I caught and passed every rider on the climb until I integrated with the front group of four.
The ride was great. It was a friendly pace today and we tried to keep the group together. When our group of four reached Ellicott City we waited again to reform. We began our last climb out of the valley on Old Columbia Road as one unit.
Some of the riders of the Ellicott City group ride
The ride back had some “rollers” – no real hills – but on each one I kept pace with a leader or set the pace. The temperature was 46 (8 C) at ride time but warmed to the mid-50s. It was a great day for riding!!
The legs felt good today. Total distance – 44 miles. And I was the first one back. In a nutshell — I felt great.
Some of the riders of the Ellicott City group ride
More importantly, I met another cancer survivor on the ride. I had a nice talk back at the parking lot with David LeMond. And most importantly, although I’ve said it before, I think today I have really turned a corner in my cancer recovery. I hope so. It’s been a long four months.
Note: Oops. Turned off Garmin at Old Annapolis Road and didn’t get it turned back on until Montgomery Ave. (This was a feature of the old Garmin units which did not have auto-pause – the users often paused them, maybe not turned them off – then forget to restart them.)
As I recover from cancer surgery I finally began to feel strong enough to resume riding. But I didn’t ride at all in February. Until today.
Record snows throughout the month conspired to keep me off the road. Each one one of the scheduled group rides at The Bike Lane in Reston, Va. was canceled.
Yesterday I met up with some of our group in Reston for breakfast. Then today I got out for a neat little 23 mile spin. And it felt great. And I remember now why we wear bike shorts. That padded short sure would have felt good after about 10 miles. Instead I wore wind pants over underwear. Not much padding there but no big deal. I’ve been through worse. Much worse.
The temperature was 38 degrees and windy. I was struggling the first 6-7 miles and couldn’t quite figure out why. I began to curse those hours indoor on the trainer as not helping one bit. And then I turned to the east and my speed picked up, way up, and the winds I had been listening to for 40 minutes suddenly became still. I had been fighting a strong headwind and then picked up a strong tailwind. I love tail winds.
In the afternoon I drove to Charles Town, WV. As I came to a light on Rte 7 between Hamilton and Waterford a group of cyclists approached from the opposite direction. The Evo boys (Evolution Cycling). I had ridden with them last year this time when things were different. I can’t imagine anyone recognized me in the van but all waved as they passed. Maybe they saw the Share the Ride license plate on the van or, more likely, were grateful that I didn’t try to muscle my way past them.
Rockpl – Rockpile – The nickname for Mount Washington, N.H.
Total mileage for the month: 23 miles. Yuck! March will be better. I am hoping to do a repeat of the Hills of Ellicott City next Sunday and have mapped out a ‘Toona Metric Century for April 3 in which 6-7 of us are going to Altoona, Pa. for the day. Sixty miles of climbing and descending and lunch at Panera at 2:00 p.m. Can’t wait!
Among other undesirable traits, I am a soccer referee. Some experienced referees realize there is no such thing as a perfectly called game despite the expectations of soccer parents. Nonetheless, we may tell someone we had a perfect game. No mistakes. Of course we are referring only to a game that has been rained out or canceled.
Reston Town Center
Today I had a perfect ride. No stopping too quick or touching wheels with another rider. No bonking near the end of the ride. Not even running a stop sign (not that I would ever do that). Perfect.
The Bike Lane, Reston
For the 13th straight weekend since my cancer surgery — I did not ride. However, I got closer. I made it to The Bike Lane in Reston. We had breakfast then I got fitted for a Trek 5.2 Madonne for my trip to France.
Alistair Hastings rode
There is a thrill in a group ride but the camaraderie also brings out riders. I have been cleared to ride for sometime but the weather or my schedule never cooperated. Since early January I have wanted to jump back into one of our group rides at The Bike Lane in Reston but never could. Then last weekend we had two and a half feet of snow plus more on Tuesday.
Bikes for sale
Adam Lewandowski sent out his weekly broadcast message announcing that the group rides in Burke and Reston were canceled. Again. Then he invited our group to breakfast at Mon Ami in the Reston Town Center.
Just talking shop
Maybe as much as I wanted to get out and ride I wanted to get back in with our group. We didn’t have a large turnout today which calls into question my theory that most of us ride just to eat. Still, getting back to The Bike Lane made it a perfect ride.
FACEBOOK, USA — A new ride began with my fight against cancer. While I continue to battle on a personal level, it is much more than personal. It is the global fight we must win. We beat Polio and Smallpox; most readers probably don’t remember those. And we can beat cancer.
My fund raising goal is $20,000. I must say that riding the bike 100 miles or 7.6 miles up Mount Washington is easier than this goal. But I will stay the course.
Tonight, with the guidance of Ben Jones, we deployed a fan page, Ride Against Cancer. We had to get 25 fans to get a vanity address and got that in less than half an hour. By bedtime, we had 100 fans.
But, much like my failed ad campaign in which my ad was displayed 190,000 times and we received $0 in donations, people jumped at the chance to become a fan but it led to $0 donations. Well, maybe $25. Not sure if the one person who donated did because she was harassed otherwise or because of the page. The test will be when a complete stranger becomes a fan and donates.
The Fan page on Facebook is important for connections. The 190,000 times the ad was displayed it went to people, over 30, who had keywords of bike, bicycle, cycling, Lance Armstrong, It’s Not About the Bike, Cancer Sucks, Tour de France, or Prostate Cancer Foundation. I deemed those people most like to be interested in my ad to give money to Livestrong.
It was displayed 190,000 and received 50 clicks, all of which I paid for, and not a single donation. Grrr.
The next ad campaign will reach friends and friends of friends and fans of my new page. When the ad is displayed it will also show that “Beth is a fan” or “3 friends are fans.” At least with this ad there is a personal connection.
This new approach may not gain any donations either but it is worth a try. We have to do something to beat cancer.
It has been a long time since I have really been on a bike. About four weeks after cancer surgery I tried the bike but went one block and had to abandon. The sutures were in my lower abdomen and caused tremendous pain when I was bent over. But one week later I tried it again and went about half a mile.
As I began the long road back I soon realized that biking was one activity that I could do. The sitting was excellent for me and the positioning was comfortable. So I set off to ride on Friday, December 19. It was cold — 28° (-2.2℃) — and I only went eight miles but it felt good. But it was cold. I forgot how to dress for cold weather riding.
The next day we were buried under 18″ of snow and all outdoor riding was grounded for a while. Conflicts and weather kept me from riding until today.
In a way it was nothing to brag about but today’s ride was out of the South Run Rec Center along the Fairfax County Parkway down to Occoquan. The total distance was 27.2 miles. The group was supposed to be at a C pace and was.
Still, save for the one eight-mile jaunt, I have done no riding since November 8. So I settled in just determined to make the distance.
It soon became apparent that I would move to the front and be a leader. And it really became obvious when we left Occoquan. The hill up Rte 123 is probably 8% grade for about half a mile. Maybe longer.
As the group started up the hill I put in a high cadence and flew up the hill. I left the entire group struggling behind. I’m not a great climber — just determined — but one must figure if you can be in the middle of the pack at Mount Washington that you can climb okay. Plus, I was probably the youngest in the group.
But the more I rode the stronger I felt. Eventually, I was off the front by myself. And it felt good. The 27 miles are a start on the long road back.
The cycling season ended for me on November 8 with a leisurely 10-mile ride in the morning before I refereed a U16 girls soccer match. Less than 48 hours later I could barely walk 50 feet and then only aided by a nurse. I immediately collapsed to my hospital bed and fell asleep.
My journey in battling prostate cancer is detailed on my Caring Bridge page. Sorry Dickens, it was the best of years and the worst of years.
Keep in mind that I am not a competitive cyclist. I ride because it’s fun and healthy. I believe that my bike crash on Bike to Work Day led to my illness which led to a diagnosis of early cancer which might not have been found until it had spread. Maybe not.
MWARBH Finish 2009
But while very anxious over my prognosis, I re-focused and raced in the Mount Washington Auto Road Bicycle Hillclimb. To train I found peace riding in the Allegheny Mountains near Altoona. I raised more than $3,000 for cancer support and research while riding in the Livestrong-Challenge, a 100-mile ride outside of Philadelphia. And I averaged 20 mph in the Backroads Century on a hilly course in September.
I had a good season on the bike while facing life-changing and life-saving decisions. Wow. It was the ride of my life. I trained for the surgery even more than for the Hillclimb up Mount Washington. And it paid off. My doctors were generally astonished at the good shape I was in and it saved me from a blood transfusion during surgery. It provided definition to find and spare my nerves. And it has helped me in my recovery.
I look forward to getting back on the bike and doing it again in 2010. My goals: Mount Washington Auto Road Bicycle Hillclimb; a week in France riding with and following the Tour de France; and the Livestrong Challenge in Austin and a Ride for the Roses with Lance Armstrong. And no cancer next year.
I did not actively track miles ridden in 2009. Although I was using my Garmin Edge 705, only Garmin offered a site to upload rides and I only uploaded rides that weren’t routine local rides. Some of those included:
Rode 60 miles with Evolution Cycling Racing team on January 10
Rode my first BlueRidger (clockwise) on April 26
Rode up Blue Knob Ski Resort near Altoona, Pa. on May 2
Bike to Work Day on May 15 I crashed and broke my wrist
Potomac Pedalers ride on June 6 through the Catoctin Mountains at Thurmont, Md.
Three ascents of Horseshoe Curve, Altoona, Pa.
MWARBH
LIVESTRONG-Philly
Potomac Pedalers Backyard Century
TOTAL MILEAGE: Unknown (1,526 recorded by myGarminConnect)
It was just 48 degrees when I arrived at Clarke Co., H.S. I stayed overnight in Charles Town and didn’t have everything with me that I would have preferred. I knew that I would be cold and I was. My only cold-weather gear was a light riding jacket (windbreaker). The toes, fingers, and legs would have to warm up on their own on this day.
The start time was supposed to be 7:30 a.m. but there wasn’t a mass start. Whenever riders wanted to get on the course they were free to leave. Some, I’m sure, were headed out at 7:00 a.m.
I waited until 7:30 to roll out. There were a number of other riders starting and it was a matter of sorting out who I would ride with. Never in a previous century have I started with one group and stayed with them the entire way. These things have their own dynamics. I just hoped to find one or two riders who rode about the same pace as me and we could work together until the first rest stop. At that point, I might leave in my own and form up with other riders. Or none at all.
I soon found a group of six riders and most of them wore the kits of Evolution Cycling — a racing team I trained with in January and February. They slowed when they realized they dropped a couple of their riders and I slowed with them. It’s better to stay with a group.
We soon formed up and picked up a couple more riders along the way. Despite a missed turn when I was at the front, we organized and averaged 20 mph to our first rest stop at Mile 29. I have never averaged more than 17+ on anything longer than 25 miles. Today I averaged 20 mph for 29 miles.
I was excited. I thought about riding the remaining 71 miles at my pace content with the 20 mph pace which left me drained. But when we rolled out I jumped in with them again. At times I thought I might have to drop out but I matched every acceleration.
I carried a camera with me hoping to capture some nice photos. Shortly after we left the rest area in West Virginia we were treated with a beautiful view of the Blue Ridge Mountains enveloped in the low clouds. It was postcard quality and will remain that way in my mind.
On any other ride I would have pulled over and took some pictures but I knew the pace I was on was special. And I knew that if I pulled over I could never rejoin the group. So no pictures of the ride.
Here in Jefferson County is the only place in West Virginia where the Blue Ridge Mountains and Shenandoah River come together. Of course those are mentioned in Country Roads, John Denver’s famous 1971 hit, and the theme song of West Virginia University.
With one exception, there were no hairy-legged monsters in our group. All the guys had shaved legs which indicates that they are serious cyclists.* And they are to average 20 mph on a ride. But it also makes one secure in following closely. That is, until one rider lost his attention for one second.
He lost his attention span and saw that he was 1/2 inch from ramming the rider in front of him. He both braked and steered to avoid him which almost caused all of us to go down in a heap. But we didn’t dwell on it. One rider chastised him briefly and soon we were back hanging on each others’ wheels.
We got back to the parking lot at the school which marked our halfway rest stop. It had warmed up to 65 degrees so I could remove my jacket and put it back in the van. Heck, I was soaked with sweat at that point.
I checked my bike computer and we averaged 19.5 for the first 50 miles. I was at my van and thought 50 miles at 19+ was great and worth calling it a day.
The route was designed as a north 50 mile loop into West Virginia to the edge of Charles Town. The southern 50 mile loop went to Boyce, Millwood, and south of US 50, all in Virginia.
We rolled out and I was with them again. Before our next rest stop our group split. And I made the split. I kept wondering why the heck I was with the front five riders while seven others dropped off the pace. We reorganized at the rest stop and a dozen of us rolled out together.
We had some climbs and here I dropped back with three other riders. I can climb and finish the steep hills but when the young racers hit the 3-4% half-mile grades I can’t always keep their 20 mph pace especially after having ridden 70 miles.
But the key is to remain calm and ignore that little guy, Kazoo, who sits on your shoulder and tells you to let them go and finish by yourself. So three of us rode together although we dropped Mike, a rider who started cramping.
We ignored the temptation on the next flat just to hammer it and catch the lead group quickly. We could have caught them but we would have been toast. Instead, we lifted our pace slightly until we were able to integrate with our main group.
We stopped at a rest area at Mile 75. After five minutes Mike arrived. We waited for him to refuel then took off. Our group had grown to 16 as other riders were talking about our group that was smokin’ it. They wanted in for some fun.
The last 25 miles was really a lot of holding on and getting dropped twice but each time catching the back of our group. The last time I was aided by a train. That is to say that everybody got stopped at a railroad crossing. But Mike was dropped for good. In our run-in to the finish we picked up other riders along the way but ultimately shed them. In the home stretch, we were still standing at a dozen riders.
We pulled back into the parking lot five and a quarter hours after we departed. This was riding time only; it does not include the time sitting at picnic tables at rest areas or standing in line at the porta-johns.
George Muschamp
I ran into George Muschamp, a co-worker, at the finish line. One hundred and two miles. 5:15 of riding time. The average speed was an incredible (for this ancient rider) 19.3 mph. This was two mph faster than any previous ride at any distance. This was the first time I rode a century with the same group from start to finish.
Hey, I can ride with these guys (as long as I hang on and they do most of the pulling).
This was a bittersweet day and ride. I am incredibly excited about my speed for the day but also realize this is probably my last ride for quite some time. Whether I can regain this level of fitness I don’t know.**
___ *Well, I shave my legs so I don’t know if that alone qualifies me as a serious cyclist. **Impending cancer treatment
My early season riding began with a climb to the top of Blue Knob Ski Resort and included back-to-back weekends in August climbing Horseshoe Curve’s 18% “wall.” It is simply one of my favorite places to ride. But my cancer diagnosis made these mountains even more special. It was here where I could get away from cancer and find peace on my bike.
With Fall approaching and my season hitting the “wall” quicker than when climbing it, I took the opportunity to go to East Freedom, Pa. for one last ride in the mountains as I fully fight this cancer battle.
Statue of Liberty at Blue Knob
My ride took me up Pa. Rte 164 to the crossroads at Blue Knob. This was a seven-mile climb with long sections of 8% grade. It is a two-lane road with no shoulder but not heavily traveled either. And every single car gave me a wide berth when passing.
At the summit, I found a taste of New York. Their very own Statue of Liberty. Who knew?
14% Grade
I spotted a sign — “14% grade (next) 7 miles.” It was heaven! Nowhere can I find an equivalent grade to Mount Washington — 7.6 miles at 12% average. But this held promise. At last, a training ground for Mount Washington.
I braced for my descent because 14% can be quite dangerous on a bike. But it wasn’t to be. By my calculation, there may have been a section that was 10% but it didn’t last long. And it soon flattened out. Who makes these road signs anyhow? It was just a tease.
Also by my calculation, and my gut feel on the bike, from Blue Knob to Puzzletown was 4.5 miles at a 5% grade.
Allegheny Portage Railroad
From Puzzletown (can anyone figure out what they do there?) I traveled Valley Forge Road and found a sign for a 12% downgrade was close to an actual 12% which led to a 12% climb. Or more. But only for a mile down and a mile back up.
On Valley Forge Road
Reaching Old U.S. 22 I had a 5½ mile climb to the summit. For much of the climb, there were two lanes upward, divided, which meant that cars could easily move to the left lane to avoid getting too close to me. I rode on the right side of the white line but for a long stretch, there was very little shoulder. Yet more often than not cars gave me no berth and two idiots honked their horns at me like there was somewhere I could go. Into the woods, perhaps.
For about 30 minutes my mind was playing games trying to analyze why most drivers on a two-lane road would give me wide berth and cross into the oncoming lane and these drivers wouldn’t move over to the empty lane that was going in the same direction. Old US 22 would be used mostly by locals — locals who may believe it was faster and should remain faster than getting on the new US 22. Locals who believe the road belongs just to them. I just don’t know. Maybe people are jerks. A revelation.
Allegheny Portage Railroad
I never visited the Allegheny Portage Railroad Historic Site and always wanted to. And today I could. I am always intrigued by old-time engineering marvels and this was one of them.
Allegheny Portage Railroad – Lemon House
Operating from 1834 to 1854 it was built to carry barges from Johnstown to Hollidaysburg which connected river traffic between the Ohio and Susquehanna Rivers. It consisted of 10 inclined planes (think of the Inclined Plane in Johnstown or the Duquesne or Monongahela inclines in Pittsburgh).
Allegheny Portage Railroad – Incline Number 6
At the summit I was looking for a road over to Gallitzin but never found one. I saw a truck with U.S. Government Plates and stopped it and asked for directions to Tunnelhill. When I balked at the park ranger’s first suggestion, riding on U.S. 22, she told me to cut through the Allegheny Portage Railroad Park. Even though it was gated, she assured me that I could and I was surprised at the site and delighted in that it did take me to Tunnelhill Street.
I was glad I did. I would have never seen the Lemon house, other than from the road, or the tracks of Incline Number 6.
In Gallitzin, I met a local who encouraged me to go to the Gallitzin tunnels. He didn’t tell me the road to them was straight down. But it was. One can stand on a bridge and see the trains coming through the mountain. I wonder what’s it’s like to live above the tunnel?
Imagine living above a train tunnel
The climb back up to Tunnelhill Street was a neat 14-16% grade. But at 27 miles, that would be the last real climbing of the day.
From Gallitzin, it was a straight shot down Horseshoe Curve Road (Glenwhite Road) past the famous landmark and three reservoirs.
Horseshoe Curve
I’m not complaining because every ride up Horseshoe Curve is a good ride but who the heck thought of a process called chip and tar? The descent down to Horseshoe Curve can be screaming, especially when coming down off The Wall but the upper portion of this road had recently been chipped. Or tarred. Maybe just chipped. Without tar.
A 4-mile climb to the summit, sections of 18% grade and a 200′ tunnel. Life doesn’t get any better than this.
There were no line markings. Descending was tricky because with the loose gravel, er, I mean “chips,” one could easily slide out. Once I got to the good pavement I could let it roll.
Because of mine drainage, there are channels to keep the acid water out of the reservoirs
The rest of the ride was simple exploring as was all but the Gallitzin to Horseshoe Curve portion. I wrote down some simple directions and followed those but was unsure when I was in Hollidaysburg where I should travel to next. There was a service station with a store and I needed to replenish my water.
I walked into the convenience store and it reeked of cigarette smoke. All I could see was shelves of cigarettes and chewing tobacco. I turned to the sales clerk and asked “do you sell anything healthy in here?” I’m a jerk.
When she asked what I meant I simply asked for water. Outside was a visibly pregnant mother smoking, waiting with the dog while her husband bought more cigarettes. I wanted to scream at her “GIVE YOUR CHILD A CHANCE!” But would good would have it done? I am reminded that this is still Appalachia and a cyclist with shaved legs wearing Lycra is the stranger here.
Actually a very steep portion of Glenwhite Road
I will miss riding in Altoona. Each of my trips involved meeting special people. On the first, I met John Griffin who lives in a house where I lived 50 years ago. He invited me in. On the second and third I met and rode with riders from Spokes and Skis — Joel, Richard, Bryan, and Stacey. Also there was Stephanie from Panera. And today I had a park employee let me cut through the park, a local send me to the tunnels, and two others point me in the right direction when I was unsure. Really unsure.
I’m afraid this is the end for a while. I have hit the wall.
The jersey one wears on a club ride can make all the difference in the world. My favorite jersey is my Amgen Tour of California Breakaway From Cancer jersey. But it brings a different look or reaction from other riders than do some of my other jerseys.
I have a jersey from Newton’s Revenge, the July version of the bicycle race up Mount Washington. But few cyclists know of Newton’s Revenge and only astute riders figure out what that jersey is from. But not so the jersey from the Mount Washington Auto Road Bicycle Hillclimb (MWARBH). It is emblazoned with the words Mount Washington.
So, I can summarize the difference between the jerseys as to what other riders see. First the Breakaway From Cancer jersey:
“Ooo. I wonder what that jersey means? Oh, I think that rider has cancer. I better keep away from him. I certainly don’t want to ask. That would be rude. Poor guy, he’s already losing the hair on his legs. Heck, I can take him!”
The Mount Washington Auto Road Bicycle Hillclimb jersey:
“Hey, that guy has a Mount Washington jersey. He must be strong. And looks, he shaves his leg too. I don’t think I can stay with him.”
Budos, France – The MWARBH jersey
And that’s it. Lots of people want to ask me about Mount Washington. No one wants to ask me about cancer.
Today’s ride was a bit strange. A “CC” ride, many of the 50-60 riders were older (you know, my age) or packing on a few extra pounds. From the start, I was out in front, and as usual with these group rides, I had no cue sheet. I sat in and followed a Clydesdale* for a while until it was just the two of us.
I told him I would love to share the work at the front but he’d have to help me with the turns (directions). We stayed together for 2-3 more miles until we came to a short but steep climb. I tore right up the hill and dropped him. I was content to slow at the top and wait but there was a nice descent coming up so I bombed it and missed the turn at the bottom. Oh well.
He told me that climbing wasn’t his specialty. I told him it wasn’t my specialty either but that I enjoy it the most.
Breakaway From Cancer jersey
Eventually, after another wrong turn and doubling back, 10 of us came together and for those who had cue sheets, all had problems determining which way to go. So we made it up.
I took my turns pulling the group and when I let someone move to the front I stayed on their wheel. At Airmont, the psychological games began even though this was a ride and not a race.
Six of us started together on the rollers of Snickersville Turnpike. After the first climb, there were two of us as there would be for the next 11 miles. At times I thought the hairy-legged monster might get the best of me but the last big climb on Snickersville I blew past him. I did wait at the top in part because I had no clue as to where I was going.
We took turns pulling and there were times that I wanted to say “go ahead, you’re stronger today.” And he was probably thinking “oh my God, I’m trying to stay with a guy who just biked up Mount Washington.”
We had talked and I knew at Middleburg to turn and it would be a straight run-in back to The Plains. I didn’t know how far it was though. We made the turn and my companion just blew up. He was still pedaling but just slowed to a crawl. I kept going. In fact, I lifted the pace.
I think after a few hundred yards he gave up trying to bridge back to me. I was feeling good and at each hill, and there were lots of them, I lifted the pace and hammered it. I only looked back once.
I was a little worried that the other four riders would catch the guy I dropped and they would organize a “chase” — not that this was a race. But one thing about today’s group — they wouldn’t know how to chase. It works if everyone is willing to go to the front and take turns doing the work but with this group, almost everyone wanted to sit in where they could use 30% less energy than by taking pulls. Not today.
I hammered the last eight miles solo, never looked back, and arrived 3-4 minutes ahead of the nearest riders.
If I had worn my Breakaway From Cancer jersey they would have stayed with me.
*A Clydesdale is a heaver rider, generally 190 lbs or more
The climb up Mount Washington is an accomplishment of personal achievement of one story to be told. Riding in the LIVESTRONG Challenge-Philly was a much different accomplishment. Here there are 6,500 stories to be told.
There’s a real sense one can beat anything by reaching the summit on Mount Washington. Likewise, there’s a real sense that one can beat anything by seeing 6,500 people come together and raise $3.2 million for cancer research and education and support.
At check-in, the volunteer, in a long table of volunteers, opened her notebook and saw my fundraising total — then more than $2,800 although it grew to more than $3,000 by the time I had left the table. She yelled out my name and announced how much money I raised for Livestrong. Everyone in the tent cheered.
Bikes at Landis Store – Livestrong Philly 09
Because the checks that I carried had not yet been credited to my account, my total went to $3,050. And $3,000 was the threshold for an invitation to the LIVESTRONG recognition dinner to be held at 6:30 p.m. I thought “a dinner’s a dinner” and wasn’t going to attend. Even less so when I was told the dress was business casual. I was wearing shorts and a T-shirt — a LIVESTRONG T-shirt to be sure, but still, shorts and a T-shirt. And that was all I had brought with me.
The volunteers told me that I must attend and so I did. Ninety minutes later I found myself being served H’ors devours by black-tie waiters to me in my shorts and T-shirt. There weren’t many people by themselves — most had family members with them. I was a little lost and found myself standing next to a bald man — about 30. I saw his name tag. It was Ethan Zohn — winner of Survivor-Africa.
Lance Armstrong could not attend as he was racing the Tour of Ireland. He did send a video message and asked Ethan to be the keynote speaker.
Everyone has a story. Lance’s personal friend, John “College” Korioth, kicked off the evening with many stories about Lance. I won’t do any of them justice but will try this one.
After Lance’s surgery, they decided they would fight cancer. It began with fundraising and they set off to raise $25,000.
“Hello. I’m raising money for the Lance Armstrong Foundation.
“You know, he’s the cyclist that had the surgeries for cancer. He rode in the Olympics.
“No, that would be Scott Hamilton.
“Well, he lost a testicle to cancer.
“No, that would be the Phillies’ first-baseman, John Kruk.”
And here, College smiled and said, ‘Lance hates this next part.’
“No, he’s a cyclist. Like Greg LeMond. Only he’s never won the Tour de France.” And that was the beginning.
Elden Nelson, blogs on FatCyclist.com. I would say there were 30 people or so that raised at least $3,000 for LIVESTRONG-Philly even though there were a couple hundred people in attendance. Many people were part of his team, FatCyclist. He has a national following which helped Team Fatty raise more than $250,000 for the Philly event and for the three Livestrong events so far this year — more than $625,000.
College spoke, then Eldon, then Ethan. The night was running late and I had to get back to the hotel, decorate my shirt, and get up at 5:00 a.m. Regrettably, I had to leave before the event was over.
A sign to make, break, or challenge riders up to Landis Store – Livestrong Philly 09
Morning came much too soon. A quick breakfast and I was off to the event. There was a three-mile backup on Germantown Road to Montgomery County Community College and I was creeping. I was in it at 6:45 and by 7:20 was still 1.5 miles from the event start. So I drove into a residential section, parked, and biked in, getting there just before the 7:30 start. And learned the start had been pushed back to 8:00 a.m.
At the start were queues for the various distances. Ten, 20, 45, 70, and 100-mile rides were offered. Many riders wore a LIVESTRONG jersey, at times it seemed that almost half wore the black and yellow. I chose to go with my Amgen Breakaway From Cancer jersey. I received a number of compliments on it and saw no one the entire day with a similar jersey. I love being unique.
Posing with the Devil – Livestrong Philly 09
As group winners, Fat Cyclist riders were allowed to go first. Imagine starting a century ride with a group of fat riders in front. Actually, while they had some portly riders, many are drawn to this group because of their mission and not because they are overweight.
I don’t know the exact numbers but think nearly 1,000 riders started out with the 100-mile ride and we were the first group to roll out. Still, it took 10-15 minutes from my middle-of-the-pack position to make my way to the start line.
The first 20 miles were spent just sorting things out. Letting the slower riders drop back and getting the faster riders to the front. In my haste to park and get to the start line, I left all my food in my van. Still, I rolled past the first two rest stops to try to get closer to the front group of riders.
Rest Stop 4 – Livestrong Philly 09
As the route rolled through the countryside, signs greeted us alongside the road and people came out of their houses to cheer. And high-five. I probably slapped the hands of 20 people standing along the route including the Devil himself. Maybe he was drawn to my bike number still on the bike from Mount Washington which was 667. Well, in handing out numbers for Mount Washington they were in sequence to 665 then skipped 666 to give me 667. I know I had 666 no matter what was on my bike. And I guess he did too.
I stopped at rest areas 3-6 and even an impromptu water break before rest stop 6. The rest areas were 10-12 miles apart and I drank two bottles of water and/or bad Gatorade between every rest stop. The temperature was in the mid to high 80s. (30º C)
Rest stop 6 – Landis Store – Livestrong Philly 09
The 100 and 70-mile routes used the same course with the 70-mile route taking a shortcut to the return. A 30-mile shortcut. Although they started behind us, eventually they got in front of us and we began catching them in the last 30 miles.
A number of riders were walking. The course was challenging for many. For some, they had never done a 70-mile ride before. And they had the right cause to do it. And the same with the 100-mile ride. Who cares if they had to walk long stretches of hills? They were challenging themselves like never before for a great cause.
Eventually one begins to see the same riders and I found myself in contact with a few. A couple of riders asked about my jersey and really admired it.
As I rode I talked with some riders including such minutia as the meaning of the race bib numbers. I was shocked when I got my race bib — number 60. I was expecting a number like everyone else seemed to have — 3898. I certainly wasn’t the 60th person to register. Probably more like the 3,898th.
Livestrong Philly 09
But on the form, one must check the reason why they are riding and the first box is “I have or have had cancer.” We surmised the low bib numbers were for the survivors. And I think we were right.
As I rolled to the finish I found myself next to a young lady named Amy from Providence, Rhode Island. This was her second century and both were here. And she warned me — at the finish, survivors enter the barriers to the right while supporters enter to the left. We came riding in together and she went to the left side and I went right. As I came to the finish people cheered and a volunteer held out a yellow rose which I took. Actually, I sort of went flying by and grabbed the outstretched rose so they couldn’t see the tears in my eyes under my glasses.
It’s not a normal ride. There are 6,000 stories, every one different. But at the finish, the rose was a reminder not that I’m a survivor but that I have a longer road ahead.
