Brainless Training Tricks!

Training WIthout Brains

Sometimes we let fixed ideas dictate our actions.  This is variably described, ranging from `dedicated,' to `stubborn,' to `stupid.'  Yesterday's training ride included all of these.

The Bike Prescott Club arranged, yesterday, a group ride through 75 miles of forbidding and desolate Arizona terrain.  Though I ride/train very little with others I was very happy to join the group for this challenging trek.

January 22 ... is still Winter!  Here in the higher altitudes of AZ we get slapped around a lot by discovering the rapid-fire caprice of freezing cold, warm and embracing sunlight.  Can't take anything for granted on even the shortest ride. 

Starting out at an altitude of around 4,000 feet we were enjoying the warmth of the sun's rays.  A surprisingly strong wind from the east aided us in our westerly route.  As soon as we started climbing we found ourselves shedding armwarmers, vests, etc. 

Reaching our turnaround point mid-day the wind had (uncharacteristically) diminished and the warmth of the sun was `full on.'  Finally, when we reached the `divide' between climbing and descending the sun was waning we developed a `sweat' and the wind demanded that we at least put the vest back on. 

If the sun just briefly hides behind a rock face or a hill we experience a 10 - 15 degree chill.  Like a light switch.  In the sun it is 72F.  The second we enter shade the temp drops to 50F.  Add wind and sweat and we experience a `wind chill' effect. 

The group ended the 75 mile ride around 4:30 pm, as the sun was beginning to cast long shadows.  And THAT was the right time to end the group ride, as the temp range remained the same but the sunlight was not as warm.  That is, in-the-sun temps were 60's, and shady temps were 40's.  Add wind and wet clothing ... bitter cold. 

Here is where I elected to get `stubborn,' or ride from the neck `down.'

I wanted to cap the 75 mile group ride with an additional solo 25 miles to get a full `century.'  And off into the setting sun I went.  Mostly uphill.  Slowly. 

Twelve and a half miles later I reached the turnaround point.  The sun had firmly set.  I was at an altitude of 5,000 feet.  The mountain desert cold presented itself, as it had always been there.  The temps were in the low 40F's.  I was sweaty and my clothes were wet.  It was getting so dark that I needed to focus on the fog line to stay on the road. 

The 12.5 mile return was all downhill: 4 - 6%. 

And there I was.  I had failed to carry a front light.  I had failed to carry a head lamp in the event I had a flat and needed to see what I was doing.  I had failed to carry the emergency foil wrap to protect against the cold in the event I had a mechanical problem. 

Descending down the hill my hands were so cold as to become almost inflexible.   The cutting cold wind tore into my wet arms and torso.  I was descending at 40+ mph.  The windchill must have been a single digit. 

By the time I was 4 miles from the end cars were using their bright lights to illuminate the road ahead.  I was blinded.  Stark desert darkness shattered by an explosive and disorienting brilliance ahead.  I slowed dramatically as each vehicle passed, aware of the phenomenon of `object fixation,' where one `steers' into the light ahead.  Also aware that the momentary blindness risked me not seeing wildlife (javelina, coyote, deer, etc) that may be crossing the road. 

Finally, I reached the end point.  It was pitch dark.  I was rigid with cold. 

Fumbling with rigid fingers I dropped the keys to my car several times. 

I realized that I needed to shed the wet jersey in which I was freezing in the wind and put on something dry.  This was clumsy and awkward, associated with the odd sense of warmth as soon as my unprotected skin was exposed to the wind. 

Driving home I had the heat on full blast.  I was reminded of the years of winter midnight riding in the frozen tundra of Illinois. 

`Fixed idea.'  An irrational and thoughtless focus on an action that placed me square in the cross-hairs of self-inflicted danger.

Training Without Brains