I was hoping to end January with something more spectacular, but what I ended up with was a new personal best AVF/mile. That’s average flats per mile. One flat per every 12 miles to be exact.
I had convinced Mom and Dad, who were over visiting for some birthday cheer, to come out and play on Sunday the 31st., so Sammi and Brandon naturally wanted to come along. I left home at 7:00am in a light drizzle, which was supposed to be a smiley sun with sunglasses hiding behind some puffy white clouds. The rain was light enough to just keep the road damp – but damp enough to sling mud all over me. Within 10 miles I was covered in the winter’s layer of de-icer and gravel – the Spiz bottles were a grime covered mess, and even the camelbak feed tube was gritty.
So, I got my first flat about 30 miles out, which I repaired and continued on. Soon enough, the minivan passes me up, driven by Mom. I wave them on then realize that the newly repaired tire is now getting low again. So I stop and pump it back up again, only to be caught loafing by Sammi and Brandon in the Volvo. I smile and wave them on.
And about three miles further on and I”m flat again. Both ends this time. I finally arrive in Walla Walla with four tubes with holes in them, and only 5 patches left in the patch kit.
We regrouped and got ready to go riding for real: Sammi and Mom took off for the nearest winery, while Dad and Brandon slid into close follow mode to check out both our new array of electronics as well as Brandon’s driving skills. And I got another flat. And it was still raining. We patched it up and continued up the road towards Starbuck.
The rain finally let up, but not the flats. We were now down to cutting up one of the remaining tubes and making patches out of it to try and hold together the remaining tubes -which worked well until the monster climb just out of Lyons Ferry. They caught me walking up the hill and we threw in one last attempt at saving the ride.
By now I was resigned to setting another new personal record: slowest century ever. Well, we were having fun, I guess. I motored through to Kahlotus, took the turn towards Pasco and headed towards the river. It was now almost dark enough to switch into nighttime support mode – which I had been waiting all day for. I was hoping for a chance to check out the headlight adjustment – strictly for the rider of course. Who cares what the driver can see at night, all that matters is whether or not the lights are adjusted to illuminate all the rocks and debris just in front of the racer.
But it was not to be. Another flat, and I was done. May as well head home and make sure no one broke into the fridge.
Today – Mon, the 1st., brought a new challenge: the next increase in the training load. I’ll go from 1 long day, day off, 3 short hard days, day off, recovery day, to the next level: Day off, day off, day off. Just kidding. 12-18 hour Sundays (unless I get more than 3 flats in one day, then I’m done.) 6-8 hour Mondays, day off, three days of 2 hours am/2 hours pm, day off. Basically adding in a long day on Mondays when I am already worn down, plus riding longer miles after work.
So today I climbed on the bike and headed out into a dense fog bank and headed north looking for some sun. Never found any, but at least the fog lifted up off the surface after a while. Actually felt really strong for the whole ride today, which is good to be able to put in a fast century after yesterday’s ride.
What’s the hardest part of it all? Staying motivated when it is foggy and cold? Installing the huge layer of clothes necessary this time of year? Keeping tires full of air? No. Eating enough! My weight is already hovering around race premium – and it is only February. 3 breakfasts, lunch at 10, then again at 12, and hungry again by 3. Sometimes two dinners. Get up, lather rinse repeat. Sammi keeps wondering if I am getting tired of baked potatoes – hell, I’ll be eating four a day if this keeps up.