Ravin' on Rosemary Raven

I got my RAAM bike this week. I've been waiting, thinking, expecting...building my year around this bike. A total leap of faith. And now it's here. I've got to say, I wasn't at all sure what to expect. I figured I was pretty adapted to the Sea Dragon - at least well enough to stay on her for 24 hours without alarming too many people - so either it would be an easy transition, or it wouldn't.

Then Woudenberg got his and had really good things to say. He's ridden a lot more bikes than I have - really FAST bikes like the Lightning (-: - so I started to have these weird fantasies that the new bike might be a lot nicer and faster than the old (really nice, really fast) one.

Robert (TerraCycle) was so excited to show me that he almost left his wife and his mother-in-law alone together Friday night to take me over to TC to show it off...again, raising the bar for my expectations ever so slightly.

Setup of the Raven was straightforward and uneventful. Gotta admit, it looks fast standing still. We routed the cables externally for RAAMing speed - if Brian needs to re-string a cable during the race, it will be faster and easier if the cables are external. Not quite as sleek-looking as internal cable routing - but practical.Nice parts mix. KILLER idler. Pat and Robert were really proud of that little bit - rightly so! Many photos. Trimmed the boom, etc. I've gotta say - Dana  NAILED the cockpit fit and feel. I was pretty nervous about that - he'd asked a couple of questions and jotted a few things down mentally, way back in November during a fairly distracted lunch meeting - and it all translated to danged near perfect. We added a short spacer (7mm?) to guarantee knee clearance after trimming the beam, but otherwise everything was pretty much dialed.

The bike dragged a sprig of rosemary from Robert's parking strip into the house so I figure it named itself...Rosemary Raven. Cable ends, bar wrap, pink tires, and there was nothing left to do but ride it.

So I headed out on Saturday, just after noon - slightly mixed emotions...still only half convinced that I'll be able to notice any difference, and half concerned that any difference I can discern will be in the wrong direction, since I already have such a hot bike, but half hoping that all the hype just might translate to meaningful speed.

Some easy warmup miles - an agility test, dodging pedestrians on the Eastbank Esplanade, and we did surprisingly well for a first ride. Then I got going in earnest. The thing is, I'd had such high expectations. Guess what? The bike smashed them. Blew me out of the water. WOW. WOW. WOW. Power transfer the likes of which I've never experienced. Seriously. Not just noticeable - radical.

It was a nice sunny day, and I really didn't want to do more than a solid shakedown, so I headed out to Sauvies' Island - a local wildlife preserve where the tri-geeks hang out - intending to do a lap around the island and head home. I wasn't killing myself, but I was working...got around the loop so fast and easy that I had to repeat it in the other direction, just to make sure I was right - yep. It's that fast. Really. It wasn't just "Hot Guys on Fast Bikes Have To Ride Slow If They're Going Clockwise Day" on the island. Cool!

Sunday, we took to the hills. A nice sub-6-hour century, again, not killing myself, hanging out and enjoying the sights. Thirty-five miles of flat tailwind, thirty miles of hills, and thirty-five miles of flat headwind. After Saturday's ride I was curious about the climbing and especially the descending. Climbing was solid. I made full use of all  the gears - there are some steep pitches on the road to Alsea Falls. The stiffer beam (and crank?) seemed to give me an extra gear. Low speed stability was excellent. And descending was a dream. Really. The road was twisty and fast and wet in places. I wasn't in a "pushing it" mood, but  I was able to tell that the bike feels like it's totally solid descending, that I'm able to think/lean all the turns and they happen more or less organically, and the handling seems to be more stable than the Sea Dragon. Simply put, it feels like the bike was built for me, right out of the box.

The only negative was that the first few times I tried my "cyclocross" dismount on Rosemary, I hit the tube with my heel. The beam is just a little higher. After a few times, I adjusted and it's just fine. By the way - a lot of people assume that smaller riders can't ride a high-racer at all, much less a dual 700c one - wrong! You've just got to find the right geometry. I'm 5'7 in stocking feet, if I'm wearing really thick socks.

Here are some early photos courtesy of TerraCycle. I'll post some photos of the whole bike as soon as I can. The pink idlers are a RAAM special edition. So far there's only one bike in the world that's got 'em.

Google Bike Maps

Hey - Google Maps now does bike maps. I think that's really, really cool. Good to have it right out there that bikes are...yes! Say it! Transportation. But I've got to admit that my curiosity was piqued. So I put it to the test. My start location? The Strand, Oceanside, CA. And destination? Annapolis City Dock. Try it. I got two slightly different answers, either 3077 or 3081 miles, which seems to be dependent on the address you pick for the City Dock.
I was really, really amused at the estimated time: 11 days, 2 hours. The current recumbent RAAM record is 11 days, 2 hours, and 50 minutes. I guess that means that I'll not be having extra time for hanging around in the McDonalds restrooms.
Here's a link: http://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=The+Strand,+Oceanside+CA&daddr=Cape+St+Claire,+Maryland+21401&hl=en&geocode=&mra=ls&dirflg=b&sll=44.083861,-123.089949&sspn=0.00803,0.016308&ie=UTF8&t=h&z=4&lci=bike

Heat Training

RAAM can be lost in the very early going if you're not prepared for desert heat. Since I'm here in Oregon - not widely known as the land of dry heat despite RAO's best efforts - people often wonder how I'm going to deal with this.

Simple - fake it. Not "fake it" as in "pretend it doesn't matter", but "fake it" as in creating some simulated heat conditions that will hopefully acclimate me enough that I can respond properly when the time comes.

OBLIGATORY WARNING: THIS IS NOT - IS NOT - A GOOD IDEA FOR MOST PEOPLE. JUST BECAUSE IT WORKS FOR ME DOESN'T MEAN IT'S SMART OR SAFE FOR YOU. TAKE YOUR MEDICAL ADVICE FROM COMPETENT, LICENSED PROFESSIONALS. That being said...

Here's how it goes. I try to "heat train" days twice a week, typically right after work. I start with a two-hour stationary bike workout at the gym, no fan - a really tough one, at threshold with frequent bursts above. During this workout I take in a token amount of food - say, a gel or two - two bottles of water, and an electrolyte tablet every hour.

The underlying principle is that I am trying to teach my body to sweat profusely for as long as possible, because sweating is the best mechanism we have for cooling ourselves. It seems to be working. Long before two hours is up, I'm drenched, the bike is drenched, there's a rapidly growing puddle on the floor, and the other gym rats are giving me a pretty wide berth.

OK, enough of that....refill the water bottle, re-empty it in the next five minutes while I stretch. Now, a very quick shower...and into the sauna for a half hour. The gym I use - CourtSports Fitness in Eugene - has a very nice sauna. That's why I'm there. I toured every gym in town last fall, and the best sauna won.

Mostly, hanging out in the sauna is a relaxing, meditative time, but for a thirty minute stint,  especially after a two hour workout that left me pretty wrung out, the last five minutes are hard. Really, really hard. It took a while to work up to thirty minutes - ten or fifteen was pretty comfortable from the get-go. I know I'm getting close when I'm watching the clock. Toward the end, I'm sweating much faster than the hot, dry atmosphere can evaporate off. It's really important to stop here, while the sweat rate is at its peak - otherwise I'm risking heatstroke.

The last time I did this workout, I ended up leaving a rather distinctive mark on the cedar planks:

I seem to be channeling Our Lady of the Perpetually Flexed Biceps! When I got  up, dried myself off, and saw the results of my hard work, I just had to snap this photo. It's better than finding the Virgin Mary in my grilled cheese sandwich. WAY better. (Come to think of it, when's the last time I had a grilled cheese sandwich? Would that be excellent recovery food, or what?)


Out of the sauna, a few minutes' rest while I put in another bottle of water and electrolytes, shower, and we're done. Home by 8:30 if I'm doing it right, or 9 if I'm stopping off at the Market of Choice for dinner fixin's.

Current music of choice is Japanese Taiko drumming. Soul-stirring stuff. This is one of my favorite cuts, called "Heartbeat". One reviewer referred to it as a "very sweet pounding" and I'm inclined to agree. I can definitely see myself hauling up the Yarnell Grade with this music reverberating off the cliffs.

Alice Telford – An Inspiration to All Women

A Bike Friday customer, Jeff Levenson, sent this link to me. Alice rides her Bike Friday quite a bit, though it's not shown in these pictures.

I hope I'm still enjoying riding when I'm 86!

Alice Telford – An Inspiration to All Women

Easy To Be Hard

Wow. Just dipped below 100 days on the countdown timer. Like the longer days and the crazy crop of drowning worms on the pavement Friday, it's a sure sign that RAAM is getting closer. This definitely feels like a milestone to me, so I'm taking a moment to reflect. How ready am I, really? What needs to happen?

I'm feeling strong and ready - but I know I can't lose sight of how much more I want to accomplish between now and June. I feel the same, but changed. I've been marked for life, and I'm also sure that I'll be marked again and again.

More than anything, I've made a conscious decision to drop the defenses and the tough-girl act, and let RAAM in all the way. Time was, anyone who offered to help me got the 500-mile stare and a good ration of  "I've got it, thank you very much" attitude. That's out the window. I figure that anyone who's not figured out that I'm tough by now is a hopeless case - I don't have much to prove on that score.

Not having to be so danged tough has left the door open for me to be a little kinder, less sarcastic, more receptive - not a bad thing at all. Not that I'm jumping on any new bandwagons, switching my diet, ditching my training program, but - I'm listening, learning, refining. Much more than tough, I'm resilient. Bend, don't break, and return to a stronger core every time.

I've been listening to a lot of music, filling my ipod with the music that I think will help me get across America faster. While I'm poking around looking for what I think I'm searching for, I seem to stumble upon (can I still say that without violating some trademark?)  exactly what I need. I went to Three Dog Night looking for some of their more upbeat classics - Joy to the World, Shambala...and here's what got stuck in my head:



What a timely reminder ! It's easy to be closed, and so danged hard to be open, even (especially?) around the people who matter the most. A successful RAAM will require the latter of me. I'm a work in progress, for sure - but I'm getting better, and I know it.

Seems strange to not have much to report. I'm riding outside when I can, and training indoors when I must. A strong weekend - a depletion workout indoors on Saturday and a very pleasant sunny spin outdoors today. Legs feel strong after Sebring and for the first time in quite some time I'd have to say that they LOOK strong, too. I guess pushing a giant gear into the wind for a very long time had some sort of positive effect.

My next race is the Davis 24 - and although it's earlier than it has been in years past, there's still a reasonable chance that it will be hot. I've been adding a heat training component to the indoor workouts, and I'll post more about that sometime soon.

An opportunity to support my RAAM effort.

 RAAM costs $5/mile!
Lots of friends - old and new - have asked how they can help. Buy a cycling cap to support me and my team as we rocket across the US on the wings of a Carbent Raven!You need a new cycling cap this year, anyway. And this one is especially cool:

Wicking technical fabric, bike-specific fit, and great graphics.
The "Raven" graphic is in honor of my race bike - a Carbent Raven - as well as one of my mentors, David Bradley of Team Raven Lunatics (you'll see David's RL logo on my jersey, as well!).
I love the color scheme. It looks crisp and cool.
And my favorite quote from my breakthrough 2009 racing season is on the underside of the brim: "We're the luckiest people in the world". The hats are on order, so I'm taking pre-reservations. Order yours now, and I'll ship it out in early May - in plenty of time for RAAM.
At $20, they cost about what a similar hat would cost at a shop. I make a few bucks on each one, and hopefully offset some of my expenses.
Shipping is free, and I've set up a Paypal storefront (on my blog, upper right hand corner) where you can place your order easily.

Sebring 12/24 : "Typhos is the Wind"

Or..."A long-winded tale of a long-winded ride"...for those who didn't know me "back when", the reference to Typhos is apocryphal. My Furnace Creek Totem is Echidna. If you're good with Greek mythology, it's clearer. If not, loose translation: "The wind is my friend". 


All things considered, a really good outing. I arrived in Sebring just after noon Friday – about what I expected. A bugger of a trip – Eugene – San Fran – Charlotte-Orlando by air, then rented a car for the drive to Sebring. Fifteen hours total. The Carbent was waiting for me at the hotel, and when I showed up to claim it, the hostess thought that it would be more convenient if I built it up in my room rather than her lobby. In order to check me in early, she was forced to upgrade me to a suite. Nice, because it gave me a lot of room to work – and a refrigerator and microwave. I could've slept four people in there, no problem – something to consider for next time.


After building the bike and taking it for a quick test run in what turned out to be a torrential downpour, I took care of some small business: grocery shopping. I made more sandwiches than I thought I could possibly consume (I was right, but they were tasty...), a pizza, a small ice chest, and a dozen Red Bull. I didn't drink 'em all (probably a good thing) – but I was prepared.


Sebring isn't a “recumbent race” per se, but it is a veritable “who's who” of recumbent racing. At packet pickup I got to meet a whole bunch of recumbent racers, ogle a Musashi even though they don't technically exist yet, and pick John Schlitter's brain for RAAM suggestions. He freely admitted that his first piece of advice would've been “Get Brian Nakagawa”, had I not I beaten him to the punch.
Plus I got to meet Quinn, Dennis' daughter, who is unspeakably cute.


Larry Graham gave me a blow-by-blow of the track course. It helped immensely, for at least two reasons: first, when we did the three starter laps it it was fresh in my head (“OK, THIS is the turn that we apex early on, here are the three quick ones that I can line straight through, YEP! I CAN pedal through the corners even if I'm taking the aggressive line...”) Second, having someone be invested enough in me doing well to take that much thought and trouble reminded me, one more time, that I came there to take the race seriously, do my best, and put another notch in the “RAAM Readiness” belt. No slouching! A huge mental boost.


Did I mention the rain? It rained like gangbusters all day Friday, and everyone was putting on the brave face: The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow, right? Well, sort of. After the rain stopped, the wind came to take its place. It HOWLED in my window all night.


As it turned out the weather was a barrier to a top performance, and ended up being an insurmountable barrier for many. According to Dennis “Weather Man” Johnson, the high temperature ended up being 55 degrees, and the low was a crisp 35. The average temperature was likely closer to the lower figure. I did see the sun a couple of times, but I've got to assume that the redness on my face is windburn – average 21 mph from the NNW, with gusts up to the lo 30's.


Optimist that I am – as well as knowing that I'd have limited day loop support, and wanting to err on the side of keeping moving, I probably started the race slightly underdressed: shorts, a lightweight baselayer, my Race Across Oregon FINISHER jersey (why do I keep capitalizing “FINISHER”? Hmmm...), armwarmers, and a windbreaker for good measure. This would've been great gear for the predicted 58 degrees, sunny, and 11-13 mph winds. After all the “what jersey for Sebring” hoopla on my blog, it ended up being a moot point: it never saw the light of day until after the awards were done.


The start line was eerie. Everyone seemed a little glum. I heard, more than once, “I guess no record-setting days today”. Funny – I knew it was going to be a tough day, and I knew they were wrong. And they're off....I started in the middle of the pack, no need to hang with the big dogs as they were all in the drafting race. Making good time, three laps 'round, then off to the main course and into the wind in earnest.


The trip out was rough going. I saw David at the poker chip turnaround, where I had a minor “chipping out” incident. I never promised anyone I'd look graceful! By then I was well behind the pack of drafting racers as well as several solo riders, but not in a bad position overall. From David's quizzical look when he saw me, I could tell he thought I might be overextending myself, but he wasn't going to say so. I was aware that I was pushing pretty hard, but actually I was staying within myself. There were at least THREE very fast female recumbent racers hot on my tail at that point: Shellene, Peggy, and Cathy. Woo-hoo! Game on!


Dan, our support person, met us a few miles past the turnaround – found a great spot right at the top of a small rise. He's never done support before. Didn't matter – he's a natural (Dan, sorry for the huge flood of calls and emails that will surely be coming...). I rolled up: “Dan, I need a sandwich, a bar, two bottles, some ibuprofen, and I'm going to pee over here behind the car. We'll get this done in thirty seconds, and it's faster if you don't hurry...” Dan delivered. Amazing!


The trip back was pretty fast - some tailwind sections. Still, I got off the long course in 5:24. Crap!In my fantasy scenario, I'd have been well into my second 11-mile loop by then. That's okay, we'll take reality.


I kind of liked the middle loop – some headwinds, a couple of hills, and a blazing fast tailwind section – though I couldn't take full advantage of the last owing to having a puny 115” high gear, I did what I could. I did the first three loops without music, then the rest with. I set the iPod to shuffle EVERYTHING, which I figured was a good balance. Seemed a little early for a steady diet of the hard stuff. First tune up: “Mama Told Me Not To Come”(Three Dog Night), which summed up some folks' sentiments rather neatly. I got nine middle loops done before we moved to the track. It will be interesting to look at the splits, see if there was an objective “iPod effect”. My fondest memory of the middle loop is passing Mark Metcalf. For those of you who aren't from Texas, saying “I passed Mark Metcalf, on the flats, going into the wind” is akin to saying, “the last time I walked on water, I passed Jesus Christ...”. Clearly, I was having a good day.


OH. Did I mention the disc wheel? Yep, I rode with one. First time ever. It ROCKED. A little heavy, but not unmanageable. It took a little getting used to, but I was able to tack a little into the crosswinds when I thought about it (sadly not often enough), and I never felt like I was being pushed off the road. In the tailwind sections, I simply didn't have enough gearing to keep up with the bike – so it's hard to say whether it was helpful overall, but I certainly felt badass riding with it.


Everyone told me that the crossover onto the track would be confusing. Nope! This year they deployed at least 20 volunteers to guide people along that stretch. Looked like a lot of young people. Good to see them involved!


Racing the track was GREAT. Since I'd tossed my original goal of 450 miles to the winds (literally), I decided that the bare minimum I was willing to walk away with was the women's overall course record. I calculated that I'd need 56 laps to get that taken care of (I calculated wrong – the number was 54 - but that's another story, and it's probably just as well.) I also knew that it was attainable. I kicked out the first four before 6:30PM, leaving 52 laps for the last 12 hours, so I set my target pace at 4.5 laps per hour, or 9 laps every two hours.


After a few laps it was clear that I wasn't going to gain very much on that pace: after two hours, I had the princely sum of seven minutes in the bank, and after four, fifteen. With a full lap in the bank, I pitted long enough to put on tights. About time! On the plus side, adding tights felt instantly warm – if I'd have started there, I might've decided that they weren't enough – and I didn't have a Plan B that was warmer.


Nutrition was my predictable night chow: a can of Red Bull every time I stopped, along with a sandwich or a Honey Stinger bar or a slice of pizza, with the occasional packet of Honey Stinger energy chews (pomegranate was a favorite; I'm not a 'trendy fruit' person normally but – dang, they're good!). Eating pizza on the track was a little dicey – I only got one slice in while actually rolling, just too much going on all around me, and I was concentrating on fine-tuning my “rabbit-hunting” skills.


I tried to stop every 4 or 5 laps, but sometimes I forgot, or I was catching – or being caught by – one of the faster riders and I didn't want to lose momentum, or there was a really good tune on (you try stopping to pit in the middle of Foggy Mountain Breakdown – bet you can't, either!).


Sometime around 11, my eyes started giving me problems. They were dry and irritated from the cold wind. I was starting to see halos around every light source, and my left eye, which had taken the most wind, was starting to be generally cloudy. I kept on, not wanting to alarm Dan – particularly not to the point where he'd tell me I had to quit; I was well over 300 miles and on track for the course record, and I wasn't going to give that up without a fight.


I figured that the worst that could happen was that I'd off-road, fall over, and look stupid. I'd heard rumors that it had happened before, and that folks were generally able to dust themselves off and walk or ride away, so I wasn't worried – just irked that I was losing time to something stupid and preventable. As we moved from midnight to 2AM, my vision worsened, and I did go off course several times. Never badly, never went down, but a fair bit of lost time. Rats.


Having to spend extra mental effort to see kept me from eating much while riding, so pit stops became more critical. I was down to every 3 – 4 laps, and I started counting down the laps every time I went through. Fifteen. Fourteen. Thirteen...Just under three hours for the last eleven, and I was pretty sure that I didn't have twelve. The legs could have gone faster, but the eyes were maxed out. I was still convinced that I needed all eleven for the course record. I rode a few conservative laps, just a couple of minutes up on pace, then started whining to Dan about needing more light. More light. More light. I still didn't dare tell him why – that he was supporting a blind racer. He found more light. What a star!


I came through the 55th lap with almost 21 minutes left, which felt pretty good. Someone came through just behind me, came around, and hollered out that we'd both best finish one more good lap. I followed him, just outside drafting distance – good pace, and I stayed on course without incident. Guessing it one of the Carpenter “brothers” - both Paul and Rick Carpenter (no apparent relation) are racing RAAM this year and both were out there riding strongly until the last. Either way, thanks for the escort!


I was pretty spent at the end. I'd gone light on food the last three hours, just taking in enough to keep the pace up, stay warm, and not puke. When I rolled into the pit after that last lap, it sprang to life. Someone grabbed the bike, and I was wrapped up in people and blankets, helped over the barriers and into a warm car to wait for the awards. It took a while to want to eat, but the donuts and hot chocolate at the awards ceremony looked inviting. I made David pick up my medal – standing would've required giving up my blankie, and I was pretty certain that I had powdered sugar on my face.


Final tally: 415.9 miles - besting the womens' recumbent record by quite a bit, and the womens' overall record by enough to matter (.5mph). Considering the conditions, I'm pleased.


The purpose of racing hard – besides the obvious, setting a new benchmark and testing my fitness – was to see what breaks under pressure. In that regard, the race was a resounding success. I managed to break my eyes quite nicely. I've talked to several people, and motorcycle/tactical sunglasses with foam eyecups seems to be the way to go here. My foot issues – burning nerve pain on my left foot – were entirely absent with the new SIDI's. Nutrition was on task for the most part. My goal had been 300 kcal/hour. From my (somewhat hazy) self-documentation, I am estimating 250 – in other words, barely enough. I was smart enough to go heavy on fuel in the early going, and in fact one of my fastest and most comfortable laps on the 11.4-mile loop was shortly after downing a (380-kcal) Honey Stinger protein bar AND a slice of pizza the lap before – in other words, quite close to 1000 kcal in 20 minutes, considering that I washed it all down with Powerbar Recovery drink. The garbage gut is still in fine form.


Getting home after the race was another story all of its own, best left to another chapter. Suffice it to say that I was extremely fortunate that David was there to look out for me as I was not in any condition to do the things that were necessary to get myself home. It took the better part of a day for my eyes to be safe for driving, for one thing. Another lesson learned: don't expect to be up for much after a 24 hour race, and take the extra day in Florida to unwind.


Complete results here, for the morbidly curious: http://racesmith.com/results/2010results/BikeSebring24Hours021410.html