My Contact Once Was Lost But Now Is Found

Because I had a church committee meeting tonight at 6:30, I left the office at about 4:30, planning to ride roughly an hour and a half before my meeting.  To give myself a little leeway, I figured I could do a route about 25 miles long and go to the meeting on my way home, leaving less than three miles at the end for me to get home.

One of my routes is about 22 miles long and includes Calvin Road, Liberty Church Road, and Bethel Church Road.  I call it Theological Loop.  For several reasons, this seemed to be the perfect route for today.

I headed out on this beautiful afternoon.  About seven miles into my ride, I turned onto Calvin Road to begin the ecclesiastical part of the route.  A speck of dirt or something had gotten into my eye.  Usually, I can let my eye water or gently rub my eye, and the discomfort goes away.  That wasn't happening this time.  The pain was getting more and more distracting.  Finally, I decided to pull over and rinse my contact with water from my bottle.  Surely this would do the trick.

I purposely stopped on a shoulder with short grass.  I would be as careful as possible, but if I dropped my contact - heaven forbid - short grass would be easier to search than tall grass.

Heaven didn't forbid.

Yep, I dropped my contact.  I froze, trying to pinpoint in my mind the exact spot where I was standing when I lost my contact.  Carefully, carefully, I set my bicycle to the side, got on my hands and knees, and started searching.  I selected an area about four feet by four feet to cover inch by inch.  My face was right next to the ground.

A car stopped.  Was I hurt?  Was I kissing the ground?  I thanked the woman for her concern, and she sympathized when I told her what I was doing.  I said I was going to be patient...

After about five minutes, I hadn't found it.  I could get a new contact.  After all, when I had my annual eye exam a few months ago, I was borderline needing a little more power on that eye anyway.  Then I thought about how I really don't need that extra expense right now, which inspired me to do one more check.

I zeroed in on what I thought was the exact spot I had been standing when I dropped my contact.  Once more search...there it was!

My contact once was lost but now is found.  I rinsed it well, put it back in, and was as good as new!

Because I was on Calvin Road, maybe I was predestined to find my contact.  In gratitude, and because by then I didn't have time to complete the entire Theological Loop, I just went out and back on Calvin Road.  

The speck that was in my eye sure did feel like a log.  Now that I've removed it, I can see clearly to remove the speck from your eye :o

A 234,527-Smoot Ride

On an 18-hour bicycle ride you can cover a lot of conversation topics as well as a lot of distance.  My rando buddy Ian and I often talk about technical stuff.  (He's a scientist, and I'm an engineer.)  Somewhere along the way on last Saturday's brevet, I told him about the smoot, a nonstandard unit of length.

The smoot is named for Oliver R. Smoot and came about as part of a 1958 fraternity prank at MIT.  Several of Smoot's fraternity brothers used his height to measure the length of the Harvard Bridge between Boston and Cambridge, MA.  Painted markings are still on the bridge.  In one of history's best ironies, Smoot later became chairman of the American National Standards Institute (ANSI) and president of the International Organization for Standardization (ISO).

The day after the brevet, I calculated its length in smoots.  We rode 234,527 smoots.  That's 400 km or about 248 miles.

A 234,527-smoot...er, 400K...brevet is a big undertaking, regardless of the circumstances.  It's particularly a challenge because it's the longest brevet distance I can do without taking a sleep break.  So, to call this past Saturday's 400K easy would be misleading.  However, my excellent riding companions - Brian, David B., David N., Dick, Ian, Jim, and Julie - made it about as painless as possible (of course, pain is relative), and they definitely made it enjoyable.  Also, a huge thank you goes to the organizers/supporters: Kevin, Jim, Joe, and Neil.  I appreciate all you do to make our brevets fun, safe, and smooth.

I opted to drive from home rather than spend the night at the hotel where the brevet started.  The Athens brevets are some of the closest ones to me, about an hour's drive.  I got up at 4:00 AM, left half an hour later, and arrived about 30 minutes before the 6:00 AM start.

The route was mostly an out-and-back course between Athens (technically Watkinsville) and Augusta (technically Evans) with a few small offshoot loops.  14 of us headed out.  We rode for about an hour before the sun came up.  It was cool to start (comfortable with arm and leg warmers), but the forecast predicted a high in the 70s with little chance of rain - beautiful riding weather!

Everyone loves Julie because she has one of the most generous spirits you'll ever encounter.  Her cheerful banter with several other riders reminded me of the first birds in the early morning.  Nevertheless, I was more inclined toward Brian's approach - not much talking until the sun came up as I settled into the day's rhythm.

Once I got going, I chatted with David B. as we rolled through southeastern Athens.  He told me about his daughter, who is a competitive ice skater.  How fascinating!  She even competes nationally.  I had no idea there are any real ice skating opportunities in Georgia.  I love learning about people's various interests, particularly unexpected ones like this.

Several hours later, we passed a sign at a fire station advertising BBQ chicken that would be available later that day.  Too bad our timing was off!  David N. and I critiqued the good BBQ chicken we've had.  Now, the kind we were talking about has little to no sauce on it.  It's chicken cooked over an open pit, usually in large quantities.  It seems to be a specialty of Methodist men.  There's just something about that way of cooking it that's uniquely delicious.  I've never had any in a restaurant like that.  David said that if we had some BBQ chicken, I could put it under the bungee cords on my bike bag:

Fellow randonneurs could come by and pull off a leg or a wing during a brevet.  David said he would call it Bungee Chicken.  I think he's onto something!

And to think that at the 300K two weeks earlier, some of my rando buddies had been teasing me about my large bicycle bag.  A guy we talked to outside of a control that day had called it Yogi Bear's picnic basket.

Well, anyone who laughs at my Yogi Bear picnic basket won't get any Bungee Chicken.

By the way, the day before the 400K, I saw this video:

Jones BBQ and Foot Massage

I can't decide if this is the most hilarious thing I've seen in ages or if it's brilliant marketing strategy.  This would be perfect for randonneuring: some good protein and a nice foot massage to ward off hot spots.

Although I didn't get any BBQ during the 400K, I did get one of the best sandwiches I've had in a long time.  The halfway point of the route was at a shopping center in Evans.  We had several food options.  I went to Publix and got one of their already prepared deli sandwiches.  It had turkey, some kind of cheese (provolone maybe), a spicy salsa spread, and fresh spinach on a delicious, chewy baguette.  It was way better than any Subway sandwich I've ever had.

After lunch, David B. and Jim dropped back, leaving the other six in our group to ride together the rest of the way.  It was fairly uneventful except for the tiny staple that flatted my back tire between Thomson and Washington.  With kind help from Dick and Ian, I was back on the road pretty quickly.  Thank you to the entire group for waiting for me!

We had conversation throughout the day, but there was plenty of time to be alone with my thoughts, too.  I couldn't help but wonder at the difference in approach between Tuesday Worlds and a 400K like this.  Tuesday Worlds has so much intensity over about 35 miles.  I start with the A group, hanging on for dear life with my chest exploding until I get dropped, then usually getting picked up with the B group, which can get rather squirrely.  In contrast, on Saturday's 400K we rode steady, steady the entire time - no surges or attacks whatsoever because they would unnecessarily use up valuable energy.

I do some interval training to work on intensity and speed, but it's really hard to ride well for both racing and endurance.  At last week's Tuesday Worlds, one of the B group guys said, "I can't believe you get dropped from the A group with as much riding as you do."  He doesn't understand these different types of riding.  I wouldn't even bother to try to explain to a non-cyclist.

As the hours ticked away on the 400K, I definitely got fatigued, but it was manageable.  Sleepiness became more of a factor during the final few hours.  At the last control on the route, a convenience store 12 miles from the end, I got a Mountain Dew.  The caffeine and sugar gave me just the boost I needed to push through.

Neil greeted us at the end and even had pizza for us!  I ate a couple of slices and headed home.  I did get a little sleepy on the drive, and so I pulled over for a 30-minute nap at the Morgan County landfill.  That did the trick, and I made it home safely.

I felt relatively good yesterday, but a three-hour afternoon nap felt even better.  One unanticipated effect of the brevet showed up this evening during my regular Monday weight lifting session.  I've been doing squats immediately followed by box jumps.  I didn't feel much difference on the squats, but tonight it was harder than usual to jump up on the box.

Believe it or not, I'm already kind of looking forward to the next brevet, the Dublin 600K on May 19.  That one will be 352,736 smoots.

Hog, Wild(!) Ride and Greyhound Crit

What a beautiful post-rain shower ride!  The sky turned blue, forming a pastel backdrop to the waxing, gibbous moon.  All the vegetation was lush, spring-green after so much recent rain.  The privet - non-native, invasive species though it is - smelled wonderfully fresh.  A bluebird flew by, brilliant in the early evening sunlight.  I thought that was going to be the highlight of my ride until about 30 seconds later, when a wild hog ran in front of me! It ran away before I got a picture.

Here's a picture of Allie instead:

She greeted me when I got home. She loves running beside me while I do laps around our circular driveway. I call it the greyhound crit.

Chilly Today. Ride Tamale.

Today's calendar was open for both Robert and me - amazing!  A day or two ago, Robert asked me about my ride plans.  I told him I wanted to ride to Forsyth to get tamales at La Pasadita Cafe.  This is a great little hole-in-the-wall place next to a gas station that some friends clued us into (the best kind, eh?).

The first time Robert and I tried to go to La Pasadita Cafe was after Peach Peloton on the Saturday of Thanksgiving weekend.  They were closed.  The second time we tried to go there was after Peach Peloton on the Saturday right before New Year's.  They were closed again.  We finally had success the third time, after a Peach Peloton in January.  Our friends had recommended the tacos.  When I saw that tamales are also on the menu, I wanted to order a tamale and a taco.  Tamales are one of my favorite foods.  Alas, they were out of tamales that day, but the tacos were outstanding!  (We also took our friend Cal's advice to order the special salsa that you have to know to ask for.  It's made with lots of fresh jalapenos and fresh lime juice.)  If the tacos were that delicious, I figured they must make really good tamales, too.  Ever since then, I've been wanting to go back for tamales - thus today's tamale ride.

Robert offered to join me on the ride, and I eagerly agreed.  He even said he'd plan the route.  Great!  How about inviting our Macon cycling friends to join us?  Sure!  He mapped the route and posted a ride on Strava.  We'd start from Juliette at 9:00 AM.  My original plan was to ride from home, but OK.  The bigger bummer is that Robert set his alarm clock for 6:30 - plenty of time to eat breakfast, take care of the dogs, and load the bikes.  I had wanted to wake up without an alarm clock, a rather rare luxury.  It wasn't too big a deal, though, because I wouldn't have slept much later anyway.  In general, I don't sleep too late, even on the weekends.  Little did I know that although my original plan somewhat morphed, Robert's tweaks would make it even better.

We started from the public boat launch next to the Ocmulgee River in Juliette.  It was a cool day.  I wore a long-sleeved, fleece jersey and bib knickers.  Will it ever warm up this year?  Despite the coolness, it was a beautiful morning.

No one joined us for the ride, and so I had Robert all to myself.  No complaints here!

The total route was about 65 miles with tamales at about mile 55.  What a great plan: several hours to lunch with only 10 miles of post-tamale riding.

Robert's route kept us primarily in Monroe County.  I had ridden on most of the roads before, but it had been a while for several of them.  I even got to ride on a couple of roads that were new to me.  Overall, it was a beautiful route with very little traffic.  I am so grateful to live in such a wonderful area for cycling.

The temperature warmed into the 50s.  I was quite comfortable in the cycling gear I had chosen.  The sun shone bright in a blue spring sky.

We identified various breeds of cows as we rode by pastures.  I knew black Angus, Charolais, and Holstein.  Robert also pointed out some Jersey cows, a pretty breed that's not quite as common around here.

I calculated that it would take us a little more than three hours to get to the tamales - plenty of time to build up a good appetite and increase the anticipation.  (As if I needed any more anticipation...)  I had eaten a healthy breakfast and wasn't terribly hungry for the first couple of hours.  I considered not eating anything until tamales but decided that wouldn't be smart.  So, I ate a Clif Bar.  The tamales were still calling my name...

As we approached Forsyth, those tamales sounded better and better.  La Pasadita Cafe at last!

Robert and I went to the counter to order.  Then...

Sadness.  No tamales.  The cashier said they would be ready later that afternoon.  I expressed my disappointment, saying that we had ridden three hours just for tamales.  She apologized, and I could tell she felt bad.  I felt terrible for making her feel bad.  I quickly perked up, gladly ordering some delicious tacos.

That's nacho tamale.

As a bonus, our friends Cal and Cody plus Cody's wife and daughter were there at the same time.  Cal and Cody had just finished a group ride from Bolingbroke.  Getting to see them almost made up for the lack of tamales.  Almost.

The third time was the charm on simply getting to eat at La Pasadita Cafe.  Maybe the third time eating there will be the charm on getting tamales.  Ride on!

Cycling Is Life Is Cycling

A year ago last week, I changed jobs.  It's been a lot of work, but it definitely has been a good change.  I actually have two part-time jobs that keep me busy at least full time.  That's why I don't blog as much as I used to :)  I'm finally writing about some observations that I've made in recent months - the many ways that cycling is like life and vice versa.

Breakfast

I started randonneuring in December 2013.  Brevets and permanents usually start very early in the morning, which means I have to get up at o' dark thirty.  I quickly learned that I could save a little time (i.e., sleep a few more minutes) by eating breakfast in the car as I drive to the start.

I've adapted this trick to my teaching job.  I really like teaching erosion and sedimentation (E&S) control classes, but the days are long.  I get up uber early, drive usually 90 minutes or more, arrive at least an hour before class starts to set up everything, teach an 8-hour class, administer an exam, and drive home.  A 14-hour day is typical.  When I first started teaching, Rita, who handles the administrative side of the classes (scheduling, receiving payments, etc.), told me that I wouldn't want to teach more than two or three days a week.  She was right.  Eating breakfast in the car, randonneuring style, streamlines my day a little bit.  The only difference is that when I'm driving to a class, I wear an apron so that I don't mess up my work clothes.

Checklists

Both randonneuring and my classes involve a lot of "stuff."  For a brevet or permanent, I have to pack my Garmin with the route uploaded, food, hydration, lights, reflective gear, weather appropriate cycling clothing, etc.  I always make a list a few days before the ride.  Even though I've done bunches of these rides, I make a list every time so that I don't forget anything.

My supply list for teaching includes my laptop with PowerPoint presentations, course books, field manuals, a bluetooth speaker, a projector, a big ol' screen (in case the meeting room doesn't have one), a turbidimeter, paperwork, my notary stamp...  Quite a conglomeration, isn't it?  That's why I have a checklist for this, too.

Rosters

Rita sends me the class roster the day before.  It's usually around 4:00 or 5:00 in the afternoon - early enough to know how many books to pack for class, but not a lot of extra time.  It's like getting the list of TT start times the night before a race.

Endurance

In addition to teaching E&S classes, I'm also the Executive Director of the Georgia Society of Professional Engineers (GSPE).  Most of my GSPE days are 8 hours or less (it's supposed to be a part-time job), but I do get an occasional marathon day, like on MATHCOUNTS competition days.  Whether it's a long teaching day or a long GSPE day, the endurance I've built up in cycling really has helped me at work.  Keep pedaling...

Sleep (or Lack Thereof)

I inherited some pretty big kinks with my GSPE job.  Things certainly are smoother than when I started a year ago, but I've lost a significant amount of sleep in the interim.  I don't have any trouble going to sleep, but if I wake up in the middle of the night, often I have trouble falling back asleep.  It's stress, pure and simple.  I wish ultra cycling events were the only time I had to deal with limited sleep.

By the way, when I'm running on fumes, whether after a long day teaching or after riding a 400K, I have no compunction about finding a safe, quiet spot to pull over and take a nap in my car if I start getting sleepy on the drive home.

On Top of the Pedals

A couple of experiences I've had in just the past week compelled me to finally write this blog entry.  I discovered yet another way that cycling and life remind me of each other.

This past Tuesday evening, Robert and I went to Tuesday Worlds as usual.  Although I hung with the A group for only the first 11 miles, I rode well.  I was putting out power and propelling my bicycle.  I was the energizing force.  This is in contrast to most days when I ride well enough, but I'm a more passive part of my human-bicycle system.  It's not something you can really control, but those powerful days sure do feel good.  Cyclists call it riding on top of the pedals.

Yesterday I went to Erosion Control Day, a day of continuing education classes.  It reminded me that I really love my professional specialty.  E&S control isn't a static body of knowledge; there are new, interesting, and innovative things to learn and implement all the time.  The goal is to keep sediment out of our waters, both for human benefit and that of all the other creatures that rely on us to take care of this limited resource.  Erosion Control Day was one of the best continuing education events I've ever attended.  It got me even more excited about something that I'm already passionate about.  There are plenty of days when I feel like I'm just slogging through, but yesterday I felt like I was on top of the pedals of life.

Tuesday Worlds! Tuesday Worlds! Party Time! Excellent!

Daylight Saving Time started this past weekend.  Some people have been complaining about DST because it's dark when they get up and go to work/school.  Ain't nobody got time for that - DST means it's time for a new season of Tuesday Worlds!

Robert and I headed to Bolingbroke for what we estimate to be about our 15th year of Tuesday Worlds.  It was great to reconnect with our cyclopeeps, especially the ones who didn't come out for Peach Peloton over the winter.

We also received a warm welcome from Mt. Zion Baptist Church, which has let us use their parking lot as our staging area for a number of years.  Several church members greeted everyone as we arrived for Worlds, giving each cyclist a generous goody bag!  We certainly appreciate their hospitality.

Bill is the de facto Grand Poobah of our group.  Because it was our initial ride of the season, he gathered us for a brief meeting about A group/B group, route, etc..  Then he recognized Rev. Andy, the pastor of Mt. Zion, who was also kitted up to ride with us as he sometimes does.  Bill thanked Rev. Andy, saying, "We don't know what the hell we would do if we couldn't park here."  The group cracked up as Bill realized what he said and apologized.  Rev. Andy let it roll right off his back, saying, "That's biblical."

Every year our group debates how to delineate the A group and the B group.  Have everyone start together and let it split up when the attacks start?  Start the A group and have the B group follow a few minutes later?  There are pros and cons to both approaches.  This year we settled on the latter approach.  I'm sort of in the A-/B+ group.  I like to ride hard, but when the strongest guys surge and attack, I usually get dropped.  I decided to start with the A group and hang on as long as I could.  If I got dropped, hopefully I could join the B group when they caught up.

We headed out on the familiar Tuesday route.  About 6.5 miles in, we got to good ol' Moore Hill (the hill on Zebulon right before Moore Road).  This climb has kicked my butt more times than I can count.  Amazingly, I stayed with the guys.  They started to drop me right at the top, but I clawed back on.  Thankfully, I had a breather for a few pedal strokes when I caught up.

Hmm...Moore Hill was tough, as I expected, but I didn't get dropped there like I did almost every time last year.  Maybe the guys were going slower for the first Worlds of the year.  Maybe it was a fluke.  Or maybe...I might have a better night than I had anticipated.

A little more climbing on Moore - I stayed on.  Left on Shi, then a mile later, right on Hill Road.  The turn onto Hill and the subsequent descent are often my undoing.  This time I hung on!  The pace was about as hard as I could sustain, but it was steady.  As long as there weren't serious surges or attacks, I might have a chance at hanging on for a while.

Another steady effort up King, right onto Highway 41, and a quick left onto Old Macon.  I felt good on the climb before Rumble Road.

Past the church in Smarr and onto Reedy Creek - this would be my real proving ground.  The climbs on Reedy Creek are notorious for plucking riders from the peloton.  The first climb is tough, but I stayed on.  The second, slightly smaller climb - OK.  Then the hardest one - the third, steep climb followed by the false flat to the end of the road.  I made it!

We kept up a fast but steady pace through the Maynard's Mill fly zone.  I had stayed on for more than half the ride.  (I remember back when Robert and I first started riding in Macon - back then I was excited when I hung on for 10 miles!)  I was working hard, but I estimated that I could continue my effort for the 10 or 12 remaining miles as long as there weren't big surges or attacks.

Back on the Zebulon Road lollipop stick.  The guys always hit it hard on these locally famous climbs: Alpe d'Zebulon, Icing on the Kake, and Zeb Kicker.  However, by now I was confident in the power my leg muscles were putting out.

We turned onto Estes for the final push.  I felt fine until we approached Sanders Road.  I expected us to turn right, returning to the church the same way we had gone out, as we've done the last few years.  I must have missed the discussion about going back in on Rivoli.  The peloton continued straight and strong on Estes, and I had to rev it up again after I slowed down for the turn we didn't take after all.  But I caught back on and stayed with the group until - hallelujah! - they sat up for the cool-down over the last couple of miles.

I was ecstatic!  I hadn't hung with the A group the entire time since (I think) 2016.  I know why I was able to hang on tonight.

For the last few months, Robert has had me doing some cycling-specific weight lifting.  I've been lifting weights since I was in high school, but it's mostly been light weights at high repetition to maintain muscle tone.  Now, I'm also doing squats and Bulgarian split squats, using enough weight so that it's hard to complete a set of 10.  These two exercises target the quads, hamstrings, and glutes, developing exactly the kind of power that helps in Tuesday Worlds.

Tonight as I struggled up the hardest climbs and bridged the gap a few times, my lungs felt like they were going to explode - that's not uncommon as I try to stay with the guys at Tuesday Worlds.  The difference is that my muscles felt like they were bearing some of that load of exertion.  It was enough to let me hang on.

Here's to an auspicious start to the 2018 season of Tuesday Worlds!

Middle Georgia Epic 2018

The 2018 Middle Georgia Epic did, indeed, loom epic in my mind as it approached.  Last year I had a great race and a great time, but it took a whole lot out of me.  I've ridden lots since then, but it's mostly just been time on the bike.  Because I've had a good bit of work stress in the past year from a job change, I haven't done as much focused training in recent months.  Therefore, I didn't have the same effort in me for this year's Middle Georgia Epic.  I decided simply to ride the best I could.  But isn't that all any of us can ever do?

On top of my usual nervousness before a big event, I went into the race fairly fatigued.  The day before, I had helped with the Atlanta Metro chapter MATHCOUNTS competition.  MATHCOUNTS is a nationwide middle school math competition program that I have volunteered with for years.  I'm the state coordinator.  The Atlanta Metro chapter has a new coordinator this year, and I didn't want to simply throw her to the sharks, especially considering that hers is the biggest chapter competition in the country!  It went very well, but anything involving 300+ middle school students is an exercise in controlled chaos.  I had a couple of long days helping prepare for and executing the competition, and then it took me three hours to get home Friday evening due to extra heavy Atlanta traffic.  So, already stressed and revved up on adrenaline, I suppose I did well to get almost seven hours of sleep before the race.

In the morning I made the hourlong drive to the Blue Goose, a fantastic bike hostel in Irwinton, GA where the Middle Georgia Epic was staged.

The Blue Goose now has a blue goose!

Temperatures were forecast to range from the upper 50s to mid 70s throughout the day, and after some seesawing, the chance of rain settled in at 20% - it doesn't get much better for February racing.  I didn't envy Robert, who opted for a road race in Greenville, SC, where it was raining with temperatures in the 40s.

I'm used to packing for long rides as compactly as possible, but still I was amazed at how few supplies I needed: my Garmin with the route uploaded, two large bottles of water mixed with Skratch Labs powder, and four Clif Bars.  I stuck the unwrapped Clif Bars directly into my jersey pockets to minimize hassle during the race.  I planned to stop only once, at the mandatory SAG halfway through the race, where I could refill my bottles.  After checking in at registration, I was ready to race!

I enjoyed seeing teammates, rando buddies, and various cycling friends from Atlanta, Milledgeville, and Warner Robins.  As we gathered at the starting line, my friend Jean gave me a big hug and said that she was doing the 100K.  Whew!  I had figured she would be some of my biggest competition in the 200K.  But Anne was back.  She beat me last year.  She had also done a 12-hour race the previous weekend, and so I thought she might be even more formidable at this year's Middle Georgia Epic.  Oh, well - I reminded myself that I was there to do my best, and at the very least, I would have a fun day on the bike.

We got our first taste of dirt about two miles into the course.  The fastest guys pulled ahead very quickly, just as I anticipated.  I rode at tempo, knowing that I shouldn't go too hard too early.  It was going to be a long day.

The first little stretch of dirt didn't last long before we had another couple of miles of pavement.  Several other riders and I started clumping together; maybe I wouldn't have to ride by myself all day after all.  My cyclocross bike felt good under me, particularly with its brand-new chain, but something was making a creaking noise on every pedal stroke.  I was embarrassed that it was likely annoying the other riders around me.  I jiggled my shifters and brake levers, hoping to make the creaking stop.  It didn't. hark! louder! louder! louder! louder!  It was just like The Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allan Poe.

Eventually, the creaking did subside.  By the way, today before I wrote this race report, I pulled this out to reread The Tell-Tale Heart:

I found this gorgeous volume at a used book sale several years ago.  The pages are edged in gold, and it's in mint condition.  Quite a find for the approximately $2 I spent on it!  Anyway, back to the race...

We were approaching what I knew would be the most challenging section of the race - six miles of heavily rutted dirt roads that are difficult even when it hasn't rained.  As I turned off of the pavement, my riding companions continued straight.  They didn't know about this short cut-through road, even though it was on the official route.  I didn't have any illusions of staying ahead of them (including Anne!) for the whole race, but I didn't mind being on my own as I made my way through the tough section.

My friend Benny took some great photos of the route.  This one shows some of the most technical part:

Dan Rather helped me get through this section.  I'm not kidding!  Recently I read his book What Unites Us, which I thoroughly enjoyed.  One chapter is entitled "Steady," which is one of his favorite words.  When he was a boy, Rather had rheumatic fever.  His father comforted and encouraged him during the long recovery with the single word "steady."  Rather also describes the reassuring steadiness of various U.S. and other world leaders during war and other troubled times.

I already knew that a steady pace is necessary to successfully complete an epic-length ride or race.  "Steady" also helped me here to keep calm and ride on.  Some of the muddy ruts on the racecourse were like mountain bike single-track.  I'm not a very good technical rider, but I had to pick a line and go with it.  I found that the key was to keep my momentum and to ride...steady.

I made it through the mud and got back to the pavement.  I was approaching the end of the lollipop stick to make a big loop southward.  See you again this afternoon, super-duper muddy section!

Shortly after I started the clockwise loop, here came my friend Jake - on his road bike!  I had passed him on the muddy section when he was changing a flat.  Jake is an excellent rider, but the unpaved sections proved too much for his choice of bicycle.  I didn't get to draft off of him for very long before he got another flat.  I would have been glad to give him one of my spare tubes, but the ones I use on my cyclocross bike are too big for skinny road bike tires.

Because the Middle Georgia Epic is about 75% on unpaved roads (including hard-packed dirt, loose sand, gravel, and of course mud) and 25% on paved roads (some good quality and some shake-and-bake), one tricky thing is selecting your type of bicycle.  Do you ride a mountain bike?  That gives you the most wheel clearance and, thus, the best chance of getting through the muddy sections as quickly as possible.  However, a mountain bike is a lot slower on pavement.  A road bike is faster on pavement but much more prone to flatting off-road, as Jake experienced.  For me, a cyclocross bike is the best choice because it pretty much splits the difference on advantages and disadvantages.

A group of six or eight riders caught up to me, including my friend Andrew, Anne and her husband, another woman, and a few other guys.  We had significant paved sections for a while.  We started a rotating pace line, the perfect way to simultaneously maximize speed and conserve energy.  It struck me how the Middle Georgia Epic encourages skills across several cycling sub-disciplines, from mountain biking to road riding.  Nevertheless, it quickly became apparent that several in my group were not roadies because they didn't know how to execute a rotating paceline.  They would surge as they got toward the front and then not fade back.  Still, I've seen worse rotating pace lines.

The woman I didn't know introduced herself as Kay.  She was so friendly, saying how good it was to see other women cyclists doing an event like this.  I totally agree.  She was riding very strong, and I could quickly discern that she was a force to be reckoned with for the day.  Even more impressively, she told me that this was her first gravel/off-road race.  I told her that she picked quite a challenging event for her first one!  Kay said we should cross the finish line holding hands.  I just laughed.  I'm pretty Kum Ba Yah otherwise, but when it comes to games and sports - Trivia Night, cycling, etc. - I want to dominate!  If Kay and I were still together at the end, I knew I would ride as fast across the finish line as my tired bones would allow.  (Foreshadowing alert...)

A few miles before Eastman, we had a slight detour.  We were supposed to cut through on a dirt road between two main paved roads, but we couldn't get through.  While in transit, a double-wide had managed to get stuck on the dirt road, blocking the entire path.  The driver advised us to go back to the main, paved road and take the next right, putting us back on course.  He sure did look stuck.  As hard as our day might have been, I believe he was having a harder one.

We checked in as required at the SAG stop in Eastman, approximately halfway through.  I was surprised that I didn't have to go to the bathroom; I would have to guard against getting too dehydrated.  I ate a few bites of Clif Bar and nearly gagged.  Then, when my riding companions started eating bagels spread with peanut butter and bacon, my stomach really turned.  Normally, I would totally understand such an odd combination of ingredients, but I was uncharacteristically not hungry mid-race.

One guy hung back to have a mechanic look at his bike, and a few others we had been riding with had dropped off a little while before the SAG stop.  Therefore, only Kay, two guys, and I continued on together.  

A few miles before the stop, my eyes had started hurting from some dirt that got in them.  It was difficult to see.  I tried to let my eyes water, which often does the trick in the middle of a ride like this.  It wasn't working this time.  When we got back on the road after the SAG, my eyes felt worse than ever.  I finally had to stop to rinse them out, letting the others continue.  I knew that I probably would never catch up to Kay, but I had to alleviate the pain in my eyes.

A simple rinse didn't help the first and second times.  Finally, I had to take my contacts out, storing them in one of my bottles with a little water still in it.  (I've had to come up with solutions to problems on the bike before, but this was a first!)  I put that bottle on the less accessible back bottle cage and decided to drink only out of my front bottle the rest of the day.  After taking out my contacts, I obviously still couldn't see well, but at least I wasn't in pain anymore.

It was a unique experience to continue riding without my contacts.  Fortunately, most of the roads, even the unpaved ones, weren't too big a challenge.  I took in the beautiful sights in a rather dreamlike state on the warmish February afternoon.  The sun shone blue-grey behind partly cloudy skies.  Black Angus cows grazed in fields of rye.  Even though their forms were indistinct, I still marveled at the lovely black and green contrast.

Allentown was just past 100 miles.  I needed some more water and figured I could find a church with a spigot.  Sure enough, there's a large church in downtown Allentown - no outdoor spigot, though.  I didn't have any better luck at the fire station around the corner.  Danville is only about a mile farther.  The third time was the charm; I found a church in Danville with a spigot.  (I was glad for the hose that made the spigot easier for me to spot in my semi-blind state.)  The water wasn't exactly clear, but beggars can't be choosers.

I had about 20 miles to go.  Those were the toughest.  I had felt OK up until then, but fatigue began to set in.  My mind was messing with me.  Had I lollygagged too much?  I started looking over my shoulder, expecting to see Anne coming up behind me.  I tried to pick up my seemingly molasses pace.

As I approached the lollipop stick of the route again, I mentally braced for my second bout with the super-duper muddy section, this time with reduced vision.  My biggest priority was safety.  I took the downhills slowly, and I did my best to pick a good line through the difficult sections (steady...).  I emerged safely again and put my head down for the last six miles.

Several miles of pavement, the last bit of dirt, and the final few paved miles through downtown Irwinton.  I turned into the Blue Goose and crossed the finish line!

I heard several people cheer, but I was so spent that I could barely acknowledge their support.  It took me about 15 minutes to change clothes, retrieve my contacts from my water bottle, and get a plate of delicious pasta and salad that the Blue Goose had prepared for the racers.  I plopped down on the patio next to some other racers and felt like I wouldn't move for quite a while.

Kay had finished about 25 minutes ahead of me, and I learned that Anne had DNFed shortly before the SAG stop in Eastman.  That was it for the women in the 40+ category for the 200K.  I forget that we're rather rare birds:

When I got home, I had a restorative shower and made some popcorn for Robert and me to eat while we watched Star Trek.  (I'm embarrassed to say that I've never seen the original TV series before, but Robert is getting me up-to-speed.)  I went to bed early and got a good night's sleep.

This morning I felt rested yet fatigued - that unique sensation after a hard cycling exertion.  The Middle Georgia Epic was tough but fun.  That seems to describe so many of my most memorable bicycle adventures.  It's also a pretty good description of life in general.