Another Reason Bicycling Matters

     

I recently wrote a blog post describing why I’m less interested in participating in organized races (Why I Am Losing Interest in Organized Races).  Suffice it to say that awareness of this has been somewhat disorienting to me, resulting in quite a bit of quiet (and not so quiet) introspection and wondering.

My brother George.  And recent pleasant dreams.

George was four years older than me.  My childhood memories of him are that he played `rough’.  He never beat me up, though he was tough as steel, athletic and powerful.  I remember, once, when I was about 12 years old, whining to him that I wanted to see a movie playing at a drive-in he and his girlfriend were going to. Never did I imagine that they had no intention of `watching’ the movie.  Nevertheless, he relented and took me.  What a party crasher I must have been.

At times he would push me around so that I’d get on my back and fend him off with my legs and feet. We would both be laughing in this playful contest. 

When I tried to run away (to the back yard) he suggested I use our father’s ties as a rope to descend to the ground from our second-floor bedroom.  I’m sure he knew what he was doing.

In his adolescence and early adulthood, he became a physical and athletic phenomenon.  As a high school freshman, he played varsity football.  I once saw him empty a carful of noisy teenagers, reaching in and throwing them out, one by one. 

He was ferocious and fierce.  And he was a no-nonsense delinquent.  His buddies were local teenage hoodlums.  He was arrested for fights several times by the local police.  Our parents once had to collect him from the village jail, discovering that he was bruised and bloody after resisting arrest by four cops. 

He dropped out of high school.  Somehow he enlisted in the Air Force, only to be discharged for misconduct after a year.

We drifted apart as we grew up.  I was anything BUT a gifted physical and athletic person. 

One day, at 24, I got a phone call from my father (a shocking rarity) telling me that George was in a serious motorcycle accident in California and that he wanted me to join him on a flight to his hospital.  He had `T-boned’ a vehicle while on his motorcycle and had broken his back on a curb.  He was paralyzed from the waist down. 

After a full year in VA hospitals, he was discharged in a wheelchair. 

He spent the next four years struggling to adjust to being an ill-educated, temperamentally intolerant cripple.

Again, I got that phone call from our father.  My big brother George had been found dead at 33 in his apartment.  He had taken all his leg tranquilizers, put them in a McDonald’s milkshake, pulled the bedsheet over his head and taken his own life.

Not a bike ride goes by that I don’t think of him when I’m pushing and pushing and pushing with my powerful legs on the bike pedals.

WHY I AM LOSING INTEREST...

 ... in organized races.  

I registered for only two organized ultra events this year.  And I only participated in one.  

This weekend the World Time Trial Championship races took place in Borrego Springs, CA.  The WTTC is a remarkable, well-run and exceptionally popular world event.  I think I registered for and/or participated in at least twelve (12) WTTCs over the past fourteen years.  This year something changed ... in me.

So ... back in April I signed up for both the 24- and 6-hour WTTC races.  I carefully structured my training around the mostly flat 18-mile course.  I prepared two bikes, made motel reservations, purchased both equipment and clothing to manage night and day racing.  I drove the 300 miles from my Arizona home to arrive two days before the races.  And then ... struggled with an intense disinterest in actually showing up at the start line.  

I didn't race.  

I am in decent shape to do fairly well in the races.  I've done this race so often there is no mystery to the course, the need for careful preparation, the calculation that if there were a problem during the race I'd be prepared to handle it. 

But I just didn't want to race.  

I wrote about this in an earlier post Stinkin' Thinkin'.

So how do I understand this otherwise contradictory behavior?

First, at this age (78) I am more committed to listening to my `feelings'.  I've learned to give them more credence than when younger and more `head down and just push on'.  You could say I trust myself more.  Even though all weekend I felt/thought confused at this decision.  

Second, to be honest with myself I anticipated boredom at just repeating the same course I've completed dozens and dozens and dozens of times.  In fact, in recent years past I'd drive to Borrego Springs several times a year just to train on the course.  

Third, back in 2010 I was interviewed by Tom Hovan in advance of my participation in the Race Across The West.  In that interview I was asked if I were confident I could successfully complete the 860 mile event.  Both the question and my response was curious: "If I knew I could do it I wouldn't." 

I've never considered myself a competitive person.  I am `sort of' persistent.  And I have a history of getting up off the floor and plodding on.  But the training, expense and neglect of other things of my life were so demanding made it clear to me that the Race Across the West wasn't a casual jaunt.  As it turned out I DNF'd after 415 miles in Congress, AZ.  (So much for training for an ultrarace in my Chicago basement).  

In retrospect I've allowed my ego to have more say-so than my rational calculation.  It's been an absurdly long and clumsy process but I think I'm putting more balance to things.  

I'm reminded of this saying.  The definition of a fanatic is that s/he redoubles his/her effort as soon as s/he loses sight of the objective.

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Finally, I live in a bicyclist's heaven: the central highlands of Arizona.  There are profoundly beautiful and challenging roads to cover.  The terrain is varied; from dizzying ascents going on for triple digit miles, to virtually empty good quality roads into the Arizona brush desert.  Boredom is not a factor.  

So ... there.  

Big change/improvement in training.

Although I live in a wonderful, mountainous and rural location I am spending more time on indoor training.

When I train outdoors I spend hours in preparation and clean up: driving to/from, obsessing about how the bike is mechanically ready, hydration/nutrition; dressing for heat, cold, terrain. 

Currently, indoors, I'm spending the same or more time on the stationary bike; adding modest weight lifting to my aging fitness needs; using the indoor rower that exercises many different muscle groups. 

Though I may not be training on very challenging hills (or drumming my fingers for tens of minutes while I descend those hills) I think this current regimen is better for my fitness and overall health. 

And I spend less on gas. I spend more time with my wife. I have time and energy left over for reading and studying.

Stinkin' Thinkin'

 

At 78 years old it strikes me as against expectations that I would be wondering how I can improve my Ultra Cycling performance.  Being in good health and decent shape supports what has always been my interest in mentally and physically challenging activities. 

Several weeks ago, I found myself testing my capacity for intense heat tolerance while cycling.  I was reminded of the difference between a reckless risk and a calculated risk.  Here in Arizona during June and July the temps routinely exceed 100F / 38C.  Cycling (at any age) in the midday intense heat is dangerous.  Over a two-week period, I found my limits.  It was important, meaningful and satisfying.  (https://psychling1.blogspot.com/2024/06/managing-intense-heat-on-recumbent-bike.html).

At my age limitations and losses are to be expected and respected.  In my work as a 2-day a week private practice psychologist, husband, father and grandfather cycling ranks fifth on my list of priorities.  But it IS a priority.  The challenge that fuels intense curiosity and discipline. 

I began my interest in Ultra Cycling in 2009 on the recumbent (Bacchetta Ti Aero), setting two cross-state speed and endurance records (Indiana and Illinois).  Over the years I’ve learned humility and respect.  Many of my entries at ultra events have ended poorly.  Yet, it has been these losses that have resulted in the most learning.  Painful and costly learning, but learning, nonetheless. 

Looking back, I cite three events that I could not finish.  (2010: Race Across the West; 2017: Race Around Ireland; 2023: Silver State 508).  The rest, I stopped due to lack of conditioning or simply suffering.  

Now, a few changes to my training regimen and `mindset’ suggest that I may be able to successfully complete future challenging ultra events.

First, due to the intense hot weather, I have been training indoors.  I have the Bacchetta Ti Aero set up on a Zwift Hub Smart Trainer (Zwift.com).  Along with the Fulgaz Indoor Cycling App I can virtually simulate riding/racing on vastly different cycling courses all over the globe. 

Training indoors offers significant efficiency.  Instead of the time-consuming logistics of driving to, setting up for and driving back from outdoor training courses I can hop on the Ti Aero and be `on my way’ in minutes.  I can `ride/train’ instead of `drive/set up’.  My hours on the bike have significantly increased and the structure (hard days, recovery days, etc.) of my training has significantly improved.

Without question there are downsides to training indoors (boredom, etc.).  It takes a level of motivation and discipline.  And that is where a good indoor cycling app comes in.  It mitigates a good deal of the boredom (but, certainly, not all of it).

Second, `suffering’.  As I have mentioned in earlier blog posts, I have found myself `losing interest’ in long (time and distance) events.  Losing interest’ is another way of saying I am giving up because a) it hurts, b) it is too depressing from the neck up (stinkin’ thinkin’).

The latter (`stinkin’ thinkin’) is best exemplified by my failed participation in the Natchez Trace 444 Mile (https://ultracycling.com/calendar/natchez-trace-444-2024/).  

Starting in the late afternoon it became very cold.  At 2:00 AM the next morning I stopped and got in the van to rest/sleep/warm-up.  At daybreak I began riding again.  After another fifty miles I began thinking about how I was going to be riding for at least another day before I reached the end.  And thinkin’, and thinkin’, and thinkin’… I stopped at approximately mile 208.  I was physically capable of continuing.  But … I stopped.

And here is where it is important to consider, again, the difference between a reckless risk and a calculated risk.

An ultra cycling event is, without question, destructive to your body.  And, especially at advanced (78) age, it is important to pay close attention to the effect of extreme stress to the body. 

Finally willing to admit that I have stopped riding due to stinkin’ thinkin’ I have the challenge of persisting in the face of suffering and adversity.

Flash:   

New training technique.

Indoor trainer.

Two iPads.

1. Synced to both the Zwift Hub and the Fulgaz Cycling App

2. The other mounted on the handlebar allowing me to read via Kindle while I train.

Big reduction in boredom, increase in time on the bike/trainer. Makes training more (time and distance) vastly improved.

Major `breakthrough'.

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At this point I have two competitive events scheduled for 2024.  The first is the Mid Atlantic 12/24 (https://midatlanticultrasports.com/) on August 10^th.  The second is the World Time Trial Championship (24hrworlds.com) on November 1^st.

If I stick to my current `efficient’ training plan I will discover if it is also `effective’.

Always learning. 

MANAGING INTENSE HEAT ON THE BIKE

1) Ice `necklace’ 

a) Pouch or old sock 

b) Make cord to fit around your neck connected to pouch or old sock 

c) Freeze two small bottles of water or one larger bottle of water. d) Put the ice bottles in the pouch or old sock 

e) Put the sock or pouch around your neck, resting on your chest. 

f) The ice in the pouch or sock will cool your chest for at least two hours. 

g) punch a small hole in the bottom of the ice bottle.  That allows the melted water to drip out, resulting in evaporative cooling on your core.

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If you are riding a standard, upright, diamond frame bike put the bottles in the back pockets of your jersey.   

2) Freeze you water and nutrient bottles so that they melt, retaining the cold as you drink them 

3) Wear a sun shade under your helmet to keep the sun from burning / heating your head, ears and back of the neck 

4) Wear white sun sleeves to cool your arms and reflect the sun away from exposed skin

5) Wear white leg coolers to cool your legs and reflect the sun away from exposed skin

6) Don’t hammer on hills or flats. 

7) Consider buying goggles instead of the shield that goes with most helmets. 

8) Don’t use gel gloves. Get simple white fingerless gloves (Coolibar, Outdoor Research) 

9) If you have a crew they should replace the frozen water bottles in the ice `necklace’ on the fly, 

10) If you are riding solo never go more than 15 – 20 miles from your vehicle (with frozen water bottles in an ice cooler).

11) Carry a Mylar blanket in the event you have a mechanical issue that requires you to be exposed to the sun while you hitch-hike back to your vehicle.

12)  Stop every two hours to lay down in the shade or your vehicle for ten or fifteen minutes. 

CADRE Reunion - June 8 2024

Post Race Recovery Process

After the Silver State 508 race last week I took two days to drive back home.  About six hours each day.  Which is quite unusual for me.  I typically do numbing 12+ hour pulls.  The usual consequence of driving that long is one or two days of literal recovery from the numbing effect.

Part of the recovery process after bicycling races is unpacking, cleaning and stowing of cycling gear from the event.  I don't `hurry' that process simply because I've usually neglected other priorities in preparation for the race.  They take precedence.

Two nights after arriving home I was awakened in the middle of the night with something that never happened before.  The average resting respiratory rate for a well conditioned male is about 15 - 18 per minute.  I woke up with a respiratory rate of 35 per minute.  My heart rate was in the high 70's (compared to the high 40's - low 50's).  I had a temperature of 101F.  And my blood pressure was 170/75 (compared to the usual 120/65).  

I took some Tylenol and spent the next two days sleeping.  The respiration, HR, temperature and blood pressure returned to normal fairly quickly.  However I now experience an occasional mild cough.  It feels like my lungs hurt a bit.

So ... to what do I attribute this?  I have a typical cycling heart rate just above 100 BPM.  At intense efforts (climbing) my HR can get up to 145+BPM.  This intensity often quite short and is usually in temperatures never below 45F.  

The Nevada mountain desert got down to the mid 20Fs during the race.  I was pushing really hard up the mountain inclines at those temperatures.  Breathing very hard for what was, for me, a long time. I wasn't wearing a HR monitor but I was clearly breathing very, very heavily and deep.  I speculate that my HR was in the 140 BPM range. 

I'm guessing that the intense effort in the cold weather put a real strain on my lungs.  I was trying to climb at too intense an effort for the full time of my pulls, i.e., 30 - 45 minutes.  

In retrospect it was good to call it quits at around 2:00 AM and 27F.  

My body is teaching me.  

Race Report - Silver State 508 - 2023

In November of 2022, when Kellie Moylan (a very highly regarded athletic performance coach) vaguely brought up the idea that Bill Spaeth and I may want to do the 2023 Silver State 508 ultra race as a relay team … I was nothing less than gob smacked. I’m at the back end of my eighth decade in life. 

A year and a half earlier I asked Kellie to `hold me accountable’ as I recovered from rotator cuff surgery and had been told by my doctor to stay off the road if I wanted to bicycle. I was restricted to my indoor `shed’ to do training. Kellie delivered exceptional results, and then some. 

I gave nervous consideration to this idea and, a few weeks later, I contacted Bill. He, as well, waited a few weeks before agreeing to do so. He told me that his wife, Sandy Earl, would be our crew chief. That turned out to be a big mistake, as she is no stranger to not finishing (DNF) races. We needed two other crew members. Bill got one and I got the other. We registered with the 508 folks under the name `Raven Lunatics’ in January. 

 With one grave exception our crew was fantastic, of good cheer, exceptionally competent and focused.

• Bill Spaeth and I were the racers. 

• Bill recruited Robert Bertolf to be a crew member. 

• I recruited Joe Pixley, a 2015 recumbent finisher of the 508, to be a crew member. 

The Silver State 508 is a Race Across America event. Our team attended the required pre-race meeting. Fred Boethling, President of Race Across America, made a solid presentation of the rules of the 508, the expected sportsmanlike behavior of racers and crew, a very touching memoriam to Robert Baldino (an entrant who unexpectedly died just before the race), and an introduction of all the racers. 

I’ve spent close to twenty years participating in RAAM sponsored events in roles as racer, race official, crewmember, crew chief and all-around groupie. I’ve learned more about myself from these experiences than from all the bachelor, master’s, and doctoral degrees I’ve accumulated over the years. It has not always been pleasant … neither for me nor for others. Which makes it real, genuine, and profoundly important and meaningful. 

Bill and I agreed to do 45 – 75-minute pulls on our bikes in the race. The 508 course is frighteningly challenging. (https://ridewithgps.com/routes/22042364) Two hundred and fifty-four miles east from Reno and two hundred and fifty-four miles back. More than 22,000 feet of climbing into several mountain summits. The road quality is mostly excellent with a few ten or fifteen miles of gnarly chip seal (I thought my bike frame was going to crack). The vehicular traffic, even through the few populated towns on the course, was courteous and, frankly, very encouraging. 

Bill rode his Schlitter FreeStyle two wheeled recumbent (700 wheels). I rode my Bacchetta CA3 two wheeled recumbent (650 wheels, triple crank up front with eleven speed 11/42 cassette in back). Our crew follow vehicle was Bill’s Ford Transit van. Three crew. Two racers. 

Daytime temperatures were in the high 60’s – low 70’s (Fahrenheit). It was sunny. When we didn’t have a pleasant tailwind, we had minimal crosswind. At night it got down to the mid-20’s (Fahrenheit). We couldn’t really have asked for better weather. 

The RAAM race officials rolled past us a few times and there was a mid-course time and aid station along the route. In my experience this was the most professional and well managed ultra event I have ever experienced. Friendly, attentive, and supportive staff. Clear instructions. Vigilant monitoring. And almost immediate responses when questions arose. 

I did not finish the race. I stopped at approximately 193 miles, climbing miles of 5 – 6% grade, around 2:00 AM, 27F. With Bill’s superior performance on some of the mountainous pulls, and my surprising (and slow) climbing after 150 miles, I could not do more. With miles and miles of 6% grades I just didn’t have it. 

Bill got out of the van and, with nothing but talent, grit and immense courage, continued on alone for another 69 (or so) miles. I have honestly never witnessed such an athletic and heroic performance. And he didn’t once complain. THAT, in my opinion, is real integrity and sportsmanship.

At that point (after the turnaround from Eureka, NV) it was about 6:00 AM. And the sun was coming up behind us. We all rested for a while before heading back. Coincidentally, the crew stopped in the town of Fallon, Nevada, for breakfast. 

We arrived back to Reno around 11:00 AM on Saturday. 

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The only negative experience occurred when I notified the crew chief that I simply could not continue climbing. After getting back in the van she made very angry comments and took some dangerous actions that, at the very least, were unsportsmanlike.  The last time I saw behavior like that was when I was the Clinical Director of a secure, locked, inpatient psychiatric hospital in Chicago.

Quick Pics of My Schlitter Freestyle Setup