Sorry to be away from the board so long... it was a holiday weekend, there were plenty of events going on, and on top of it all the Lawrence County group managed a nice little 3-day mini camp.
It started 7 AM on Saturday. Once again we had a good-sized number of people (distort, reading impaired, your lack of education is not my concern!) doing the 43-mile Amish tour. Eight riders wound up doing part or all of the ride (Kathy met us at Lighthouse), then we turned to the run.
The option was open to run only 3, and half of us took that path - or started to. Jimmy, Dennis, and I headed on to the circle. As we neared the end of it we saw Dan, Rand, and Michael starting around. I guess we shamed them into it. Truthfully, though hot, it wasn't the least bit unbearable. It would have been a good day to go longer if anyone was so inclined.
Sunday saw the semi-annual Me-N-Steve training day, composed of a mile swim, 25.5-mile bike, and a 3-mile run. The swim portion would be conducted in beautiful Kenray Lake, beginning off Jimmy's pier. The water was calm, water temperature was 81 degrees (a bit warm for my taste), and the afternoon heat was building fast.
My plan was to help Allen get started on his first open-water swim. He planned to wear a wetsuit, and as might be expected he had some trouble getting it on (properly). Rand and I soon had him worked out, and he entered the water. I told Rand to go on, I could handle watching him, so Rand got started on his workout, already a lap or so down from the rest of the group.
I watched Allen go across the bay. He swam crosswise instead of swimming to the buoy for safety reasons, and I was glad to see the wetsuit kept him absolutely buoyant regardless of what he did. After he crossed and came back, I knew I could swim and not worry about him.
I fixed my attention on Steve and Mike. I knew I was at least a lap down, and likely much more. Jimmy had returned in time for Allen to come back across the bay, and he stayed long enough to watch Allen get back. Steve and Mike were ahead of him, so... it would be a tough, no, impossible catch. I didn't want to hold the group any longer than necessary, but if those guys were going a mile, I was going a mile. I decided the better plan was to try to cut the gap to one lap before they quit.
Weightlifting helps swimming, I want to say it again. A bunch. It's something I learned in high school, but I guess some lessons have to be relearned. I chugged along, completing the first out-and-back in 4:50. The rest were in the 5:15-5:20 range, with a total time of 26:09. I believe that's the fastest mile I've ever done there.
Of course I was boiling hot when I got out of the water. Sweat was pouring from me, and I couldn't stop it. What a perfect way to start a ride!
Jimmy mapped out a rolling 25.5-mile tour into Jackson County, turning at Norman Station and doubling back (more-or-less). Things were kicking off to an easy start, I was trailing behind as sweeper, when I saw Steve pull to the side of the road. Turns out he'd forgotten to pump up his tires, and they were quite low. I offered to go back to the car with him to take care of it, and back we went. The rest of the group went on. So much for an easy ride! We both knew what was coming... as soon as there was air in those tires, we'd start gobbling up the gap until we'd caught them.
Steve did a great job of getting us going. He didn't exactly pull per se, more he kept a steady riding pace through the hills. This kept me on my toes where I might have eased off a bit. It's not the style of riding I would ordinarily do alone, but it was sound training technique.
After we got to where things flattened a bit, a couple miles south of Zelma, I took over. This time we went into line, and with a slight tailwind, I knew we could make time. I took it to 27 mph and held it there until the curve in Zelma, then we got back on it again going through the rollers east of town. I was 25-26 mph until we got into the steeper stuff, but shortly before the county line I caught the first glimpse of the group. They were ours.
We caught them just before Norman Station. Mike and Scott passed by going the other direction - apparently they'd gapped the group. As we entered town Roy needed to look at his bike, so we waited for a couple of minutes or so for him to get it sorted out. Once done, we set about getting back to the lake.
At this point we were grouped peloton of Steve, Jimmy, Allen, Rand, WinD, Roy, and me. The group didn't remain intact long. As we hit the rollers on the return, Steve maintained the pressure throughout as he had before. This broke WinD and Roy off the back. Rand laid back to pick up stragglers, and since I didn't think WinD could catch Steve I tried to focus on Roy. I held back, trying to encourage him to hang onto my wheel, but it was too much at that moment.
By now we were entering Zelma, preparing to turn south on the straightaway, and I could see the line forming, Steve on the front. Things were about to go from bad to worse. I knew now there was no hope of getting the three behind on the train, so it was time for me to move. I laid into aero, and though my legs still burned from the previous day's ride, I surged on to catch the line. Sure enough, I no sooner got on when it took off. The headwind was very noticeable, and Steve did a terrific job across this stretch.
The course turns west, then south again for another straightaway, and I pulled to the front for a turn. "I knew that was going to happen," grumbled Jimmy. He got on anyway, and withing a couple of minutes we were at our next turn. The course falls, twists, then climbs for a bit at this juncture, and once we were through it and onto a south leg, Jimmy did the unexpected.
He took the lead. And I don't mean for a minute, he took us all the way back to highway 50, through all the rollers in between. It was a monster pull, very uncharacteristic, and it took Steve and me by surprise (Allen didn't know better).
Of course it was his undoing. Once across the highway I took the lead again, and after a few rollers he and Allen were gone. I didn't know it at the time, because Steve was behind me, and I can only see the one guy behind. Jimmy and Allen were on an opposing hill behind us, maybe 200 yards, and it didn't appear as if they were making a real effort to overtake.
This was about when I spotted Mike and Scott.
They were nearing the end of the south straightaway, and I called to Steve, "We can catch them!". Steve didn't think so, but I watched them round the corner, heading west, three bike lengths separating them. They weren't working together, so we had a very good chance even though we were a half mile behind. I'd put the distance at about three miles to the finish.
Steve pulled us a bit, we hit the corner, then the road became a bit unfamiliar to him. I took the lead, through the nasty left turn, up the sharp climb, and to the next turn. Now those that were on the last Me-N-Steve will recall Steve hitting a pothole and becoming... irate... so I warned him we were on the same stretch of road that had caused trouble before. Still... Mike and Scott were right there, and we were closing...
I pressed again, but now I noticed the gap wasn't closing as quickly. I also noticed they were looking over their shoulders. Uh-oh. The jig was up! They now knew what I was trying to do, and they were fighting to keep my away. How... Galloway!
Try though they might, the distance was steadily narrowing. We hit the final left turn, pitched up, and I saw Scott's furtive look back. He was mine. I know his quads must have been exploding - after all, he'd run 20 miles the day before in Buddha at 5:42 pace - but there was no mercy then. Over the top I saw Mike shortly ahead, in his final sprint. My beloved Airfoil, the Hidalgo of bikes, rose to the challenge and overtook with half a mile to go. Scott sprinted by to win the day, but that was okay - my goal was to catch them before the end, and that I'd done.
There would be a price for this exercise in the form of a very hot 3-mile run. As the picture shows, the sun was bright, the heat was on, and there was nothing for it but to tough it out.
I will comment here that Jimmy's timetable for the day was pretty darn close to right-on. We started the run a little past 5:30, very good for Jimmy scheduling. Too bad we forgot about Dennis. We were 3/4 mile into it when he drove up yelling about the grace period. Hah! I told him I'd wait right there for him, get parked and start running!
It didn't cut much off the run in the end. Roy had taken Jimmy's cooler to the turn at 1.5 miles, and since they got a drink and waited a couple of minutes we met them as they were topping the first hill on the return leg. We turned with them, netting around 2.75 miles.
So it all ended at the lake. We reconvened at Jimmy's for a fine meal and fellowship, finally breaking up around 10 PM. It was a terrific day, and it was fantastic of the Sowders to open up their home for us!
Think that's where it ends? Nope.
Today we met again. Lighthouse books, 8 AM, and we had another large group. Josh and His Agent were there, too. We rode to Amish country, turned at 10, then returned. Well, not all of us. Four of us (Dan, Roy, Kathy, and I) climbed a pretty big hill just off our regular course. You don't really get a feel for how steep this thing is until you are breathlessly pumping your legs up it. Or, as we all did, enjoy the exhilarating plunge as a reward. I was 40 mph from a dead stop at the top.
We did run after, first going south on Dixie Highway, then turning north, passing the start point for a short distance, then returning for a total of 3 miles. This turned out to be the smart way to do it (albeit accidentally), because a couple of our runners struggled near the middle of the run. This layout offered a good out if needed.
Wowza. That's a lot of typing.
I guess I want to add a couple of observations about the Me-N-Steve...
It started 7 AM on Saturday. Once again we had a good-sized number of people (distort, reading impaired, your lack of education is not my concern!) doing the 43-mile Amish tour. Eight riders wound up doing part or all of the ride (Kathy met us at Lighthouse), then we turned to the run.
The option was open to run only 3, and half of us took that path - or started to. Jimmy, Dennis, and I headed on to the circle. As we neared the end of it we saw Dan, Rand, and Michael starting around. I guess we shamed them into it. Truthfully, though hot, it wasn't the least bit unbearable. It would have been a good day to go longer if anyone was so inclined.
My plan was to help Allen get started on his first open-water swim. He planned to wear a wetsuit, and as might be expected he had some trouble getting it on (properly). Rand and I soon had him worked out, and he entered the water. I told Rand to go on, I could handle watching him, so Rand got started on his workout, already a lap or so down from the rest of the group.
I watched Allen go across the bay. He swam crosswise instead of swimming to the buoy for safety reasons, and I was glad to see the wetsuit kept him absolutely buoyant regardless of what he did. After he crossed and came back, I knew I could swim and not worry about him.
Weightlifting helps swimming, I want to say it again. A bunch. It's something I learned in high school, but I guess some lessons have to be relearned. I chugged along, completing the first out-and-back in 4:50. The rest were in the 5:15-5:20 range, with a total time of 26:09. I believe that's the fastest mile I've ever done there.
Jimmy mapped out a rolling 25.5-mile tour into Jackson County, turning at Norman Station and doubling back (more-or-less). Things were kicking off to an easy start, I was trailing behind as sweeper, when I saw Steve pull to the side of the road. Turns out he'd forgotten to pump up his tires, and they were quite low. I offered to go back to the car with him to take care of it, and back we went. The rest of the group went on. So much for an easy ride! We both knew what was coming... as soon as there was air in those tires, we'd start gobbling up the gap until we'd caught them.
Steve did a great job of getting us going. He didn't exactly pull per se, more he kept a steady riding pace through the hills. This kept me on my toes where I might have eased off a bit. It's not the style of riding I would ordinarily do alone, but it was sound training technique.
After we got to where things flattened a bit, a couple miles south of Zelma, I took over. This time we went into line, and with a slight tailwind, I knew we could make time. I took it to 27 mph and held it there until the curve in Zelma, then we got back on it again going through the rollers east of town. I was 25-26 mph until we got into the steeper stuff, but shortly before the county line I caught the first glimpse of the group. They were ours.
We caught them just before Norman Station. Mike and Scott passed by going the other direction - apparently they'd gapped the group. As we entered town Roy needed to look at his bike, so we waited for a couple of minutes or so for him to get it sorted out. Once done, we set about getting back to the lake.
At this point we were grouped peloton of Steve, Jimmy, Allen, Rand, WinD, Roy, and me. The group didn't remain intact long. As we hit the rollers on the return, Steve maintained the pressure throughout as he had before. This broke WinD and Roy off the back. Rand laid back to pick up stragglers, and since I didn't think WinD could catch Steve I tried to focus on Roy. I held back, trying to encourage him to hang onto my wheel, but it was too much at that moment.
By now we were entering Zelma, preparing to turn south on the straightaway, and I could see the line forming, Steve on the front. Things were about to go from bad to worse. I knew now there was no hope of getting the three behind on the train, so it was time for me to move. I laid into aero, and though my legs still burned from the previous day's ride, I surged on to catch the line. Sure enough, I no sooner got on when it took off. The headwind was very noticeable, and Steve did a terrific job across this stretch.
The course turns west, then south again for another straightaway, and I pulled to the front for a turn. "I knew that was going to happen," grumbled Jimmy. He got on anyway, and withing a couple of minutes we were at our next turn. The course falls, twists, then climbs for a bit at this juncture, and once we were through it and onto a south leg, Jimmy did the unexpected.
He took the lead. And I don't mean for a minute, he took us all the way back to highway 50, through all the rollers in between. It was a monster pull, very uncharacteristic, and it took Steve and me by surprise (Allen didn't know better).
Of course it was his undoing. Once across the highway I took the lead again, and after a few rollers he and Allen were gone. I didn't know it at the time, because Steve was behind me, and I can only see the one guy behind. Jimmy and Allen were on an opposing hill behind us, maybe 200 yards, and it didn't appear as if they were making a real effort to overtake.
This was about when I spotted Mike and Scott.
They were nearing the end of the south straightaway, and I called to Steve, "We can catch them!". Steve didn't think so, but I watched them round the corner, heading west, three bike lengths separating them. They weren't working together, so we had a very good chance even though we were a half mile behind. I'd put the distance at about three miles to the finish.
Steve pulled us a bit, we hit the corner, then the road became a bit unfamiliar to him. I took the lead, through the nasty left turn, up the sharp climb, and to the next turn. Now those that were on the last Me-N-Steve will recall Steve hitting a pothole and becoming... irate... so I warned him we were on the same stretch of road that had caused trouble before. Still... Mike and Scott were right there, and we were closing...
I pressed again, but now I noticed the gap wasn't closing as quickly. I also noticed they were looking over their shoulders. Uh-oh. The jig was up! They now knew what I was trying to do, and they were fighting to keep my away. How... Galloway!
Try though they might, the distance was steadily narrowing. We hit the final left turn, pitched up, and I saw Scott's furtive look back. He was mine. I know his quads must have been exploding - after all, he'd run 20 miles the day before in Buddha at 5:42 pace - but there was no mercy then. Over the top I saw Mike shortly ahead, in his final sprint. My beloved Airfoil, the Hidalgo of bikes, rose to the challenge and overtook with half a mile to go. Scott sprinted by to win the day, but that was okay - my goal was to catch them before the end, and that I'd done.
I will comment here that Jimmy's timetable for the day was pretty darn close to right-on. We started the run a little past 5:30, very good for Jimmy scheduling. Too bad we forgot about Dennis. We were 3/4 mile into it when he drove up yelling about the grace period. Hah! I told him I'd wait right there for him, get parked and start running!
It didn't cut much off the run in the end. Roy had taken Jimmy's cooler to the turn at 1.5 miles, and since they got a drink and waited a couple of minutes we met them as they were topping the first hill on the return leg. We turned with them, netting around 2.75 miles.
So it all ended at the lake. We reconvened at Jimmy's for a fine meal and fellowship, finally breaking up around 10 PM. It was a terrific day, and it was fantastic of the Sowders to open up their home for us!
Think that's where it ends? Nope.
We did run after, first going south on Dixie Highway, then turning north, passing the start point for a short distance, then returning for a total of 3 miles. This turned out to be the smart way to do it (albeit accidentally), because a couple of our runners struggled near the middle of the run. This layout offered a good out if needed.
Wowza. That's a lot of typing.
I guess I want to add a couple of observations about the Me-N-Steve...
- Scott Breeden is a monster. Look out, Grandma's Marathon, you're about to get scorched!
- If Allen can wear a wetsuit at Cicero, whether or not he scores, he should.
- WinD is taking this triathlon thing seriously. I think as she rounds into shape, she's going to fall in love with it.
- Wes does not appreciate me trying to, how did he put this, "indoctrinate people into my lifestyle"? heh. Suffah, Pope!
- We need to have a shifting clinic for our new riders. First Scott, then Josh today.
- While we're on that topic, we might look at downhills and how to use them.
- Heck, let's just have a clinic.
Time Trial tomorrow, weather permitting. I'm going to be all Aunt Jemima on this one (flat as a pancake), but a data point is a data point...
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