Cycling

With the 2007 Seattle to Portland Classic (STP) just around the corner (July 14th and 15th), we're taking every chance we can get to "be in the saddle". Being back from a business trip earlier than expected allowed me to join Melissa and a couple other friends for the 2007 Skagit Spring Classic on May 12th. The Skagit Classic is in its 17th year, and offers four different routes: 25 mile, 45 mile, 62 mile, and 100 mile. Most of us rode the 62-mile route (a "metric century"), which included a picturesque climb up Chuckanut Drive. My fears of excessive automobile traffic competing for the extremely narrow roadway were somewhat unfounded.

The ride started out pretty rough. Although the terrain was flat for the first several miles, we had to battle head-on, gale force winds, heavy dust and poor quality pavement. The relative protection of the trees and elevation once we reached Chuckanut Drive gave us a much needed reprieve. Most of the route (until we dropped back into the Skagit Valley flatlands, near the end) was good. Volunteers with the sponsor (Skagit Bicycle Club) staffed rest stops along the route, and handed out homemade cookies and other snack foods.

My only regret is that I didn't take my camera.

Who would have guessed that my blog would become so heavily skewed towards physical activities? It's not like I spend an inordinate amount of my time running or cycling. In fact, I should be spending more time in those activities, considering that I have at least one half-marathon (Capital City), a full-marathon (Royal Victorian), a dual century ride (STP), and a 150-mile ride (Waves to Wine) already on the schedule for this year. The goal in all this is to get back to the shape I was in when I ran the 2002 Disney World Marathon.

This past Saturday (March 31, 2007) was spent in Wenatchee with a group of friends (Rachele, Heidi, Lily and Bill) for the seventh annual Wenatchee Valley Duathlon. I drove over to Wenatchee Friday night and stayed in a motel. The rest of the group got up at some ungodly hour to drive over Saturday morning.

The duathlon consisted of a 3-mile run, 17-mile bike, and 3-mile run combination. Each leg of the race started and finished at the Wenatchee Confluence State Park. (I'd reference a URL for the event if I could actually find one.) The group met at the park and got the gear set out in the transition area with plenty of time to spare. Heidi was riding Melissa's road bike since she only has a mountain bike and Melissa is trekking around in South America right now. The spare time gave Heidi a chance to get some practice at the clip-in shoes on Melissa's bike. We took a group photo, and planned our "attack".

This is where I should admit to never having participated in a duathlon before. All of us in the group, however, are avid runners and cyclists. The unknown quantity was combining running and cycling into a single event, especially one that splits the running into two legs. Knowing that the cycling leg would be the longest, I erred on the side of wearing cycling shorts for the duration of the event. That turned out to be a wise decision. It's easy to run in cycling shorts, but not as pleasant to ride in running shorts.

The race started promptly at 10:00 AM with the out-and-back 3-mile run leg. The weather was perfect, if windy. I've learned that it takes me between four and six miles to hit a good stride, so I was a bit worried about only running three miles before having to transition to a different activity (cycling). I'm convinced that there's some science behind this "warm-up" period. Arteries and veins must need to expand so that blood can pass through the body at the accelerated rate necessary for an elevated activity level. Working up to that point definitely isn't the fun part of an event. We all put in a pretty good showing during the first leg nonetheless. Heidi got into the transition area right in front of me and made an incredibly fast transition into her cycling gear. She was off like a bolt of lightening.

In my attempt to catch up with Heidi at the beginning of the cycling leg, I thought I saw her make a wrong turn. The route signage indicated a right-hand turn immediately following an intersection in a neighborhood. Rather than turn at the intersection -- believing that a sign should be posted prior to the intersection if they intended a turn -- I continued straight. Within a hundred feet, around a corner, a pair of event staff directed participants to make a right-hand turn. Inquiring as to whether they had just seen someone pass on a red bike, they responded in the affirmative. I was never able to catch up to Heidi, and never saw anyone from our group on the rest of the cycling leg.

The cycling leg took an hour and sixteen minutes to complete. I looked around for bikes from our group, and wasn't able to identify any. At a minimum, I knew that Heidi and Rachele hadn't made it back yet. Bill and Lily's bikes were too unfamiliar for me to pick them out of a lineup. My Garmin Forerunner 305 recorded the length of the cycling leg at only 16 miles -- not the expected 17 miles. Since the Forerunner is typically hyper-accurate, I began to wonder if I'd missed part of the route. What if Heidi hadn't made a wrong turn, and I had? What if I missed another part of the route? It's not like the route was well marked. The doubt really sucked. I threw on my running shoes and headed out for the final 3-mile run. I passed Lilly on her return at about three quarters of a mile into my run, and felt better about the chances that I hadn't missed part of the cycling leg. My thoughts were now able to focus on finishing the race.

At exactly 22 miles (3 + 16 + 3) I crossed the finish line. My overall time was 2:16:06. Lily beat me by more than 15 minutes, and the rest of the group were behind me by ~10 minutes. We all agreed that we needed to train more, but still had a good time. Another duathlon is definitely in our future.

Late February marks the very beginning of the cycling season in Seattle. The weather is usually far from optimal, but thousands of bicyclists thinking forward to the Seattle to Portland Bicycle Classic (STP for short), the Ride from Seattle to Vancouver and Party (RSVP for short), the Ride Around Washington (RAW for short), the Washington Chapter of the National Multiple Sclerosis Society's Bike Tour (MS 150 for short), and any other tours they may have planned for the year get up early in the morning and trek by ferry to Bainbridge Island for a ride they will not soon forget.

Melissa and I were to meet a group of friends at pier 52 on Seattle's waterfront to take the ferry to Bainbridge Island early Sunday morning, so the rainy weather wasn't enough of an excuse to bag out. People were counting on us to share the misery that is Chilly Hilly. Little did we know that most of our "friends" are fair weather cyclists conspiring to leave us in the cold. Three of the ChuckIt running group members that are training for an upcoming Iron Man showed, but the majority stayed home in their warm beds. Being a fair weather runner myself, I can relate to opting for a warm bed over being out in cold, miserable weather, but it's not like they didn't know before hand. After all, it's called Chilly Hilly for a reason.

Sans the camaraderie we expected to enjoy, we boarded the ferry and commenced the 33 mile slog. The rain and wind were pleasant perks [said with sarcasm]. Hills were definitely not the challenges this year -- the challenges were 8 mile per hour average wind speeds and periods of downpour separated by trademark Northwest drizzle. It was also cold (44^oF), but that goes without saying.

Melissa was a real trooper. We were both pretty despondent, but abstained from taking the shortcut at mile 20 in favor of finishing the full 33 mile ride. If it weren't for our Arc'teryx waterproof shells, I would have called it quits.

A pop and cyclical hiss emanated from my front tire just four miles shy of the finish line. My decade-long luck ran out in that instant. There was a roofing nail stuck straight through my tire and tube. I had to tell my self that it could have been worse. At least it was my front tire. At least it wasn't during one of the periodic downpours. At least we were close to the finish.

A slight overhang of somebody's garage provided enough shelter for my impromptu bike maintenance. I change only the tube, knowing that I'd have to redo the repair later because of the inavoidable grit introduced by the wet weather. The sand and dirt acts like a little knifes between the tube, wheel and tire if allowed to remain. We were back on the road fifteen minutes later, no worse for the wear.

In finishing, Melissa declared that running a marathon was easier than what we'd just completed. I disagreed. Our pace was poor, and the ride felt more like a task than recreation, but it was all because of the rain. A 33 mile ride -- even with some hills -- is a piece of cake under less extreme conditions. We decided that a Bainbridge Island ride later in the year would be worth a try.

My Garmin Forerunner 305 delivered the route map and a Google Earth file for this year's Chilly Hilly. Also, the Cascade Bicycle Club deserves accolades for organizing and supporting the ride for the past 34 years.

Through your generous support, the 2006 Waves to Wine MS 150 Bike Tour should be close to its goal of raising $870,000 for the Northern California Chapter of the National Multiple Sclerosis Society. You helped me contribute over $600 $700 towards that goal, which is pretty incredible considering my late fundraising drive (beginning a mere week before the tour). The exact number of riders and dollars raised won't be announced for a couple more weeks, but last year there were about 1,300 riders and over $800,000 raised.

We started the first day of the ride in Napa, California at about 7:00 AM. Torea, her uncle (Richard) and me (Richard) set off through the nation's premier wine country while the morning fog receded. The sky was almost completely blue by 10:00 AM, and the temperature was perfect for riding. By the time we cranked through the first 30 miles of the day, I calculated that we could finish in record time. Little did I know that this year's new route delivered a very steep climb just before our conclusion in Santa Rosa.

In past years, we would start and finish both days in Santa Rosa. The first day would take us out the coastal route (a.k.a., the "waves"); the second day would cover the inland route (a.k.a., the "wine"). This year's tour would be more aptly called "Wine to Waves" since we rode the inland route first. We had tried to prepare for the new route by loading one of our Garmin Forerunner 305s with the route map. The plan was to use the 305's "training partner" feature as a guide. Building a map of the route for this purpose proved much more difficult than we had imagined, and getting the necessary elevation data was almost impossible. We tried a variety of Google Map mash-ups and National Geographic's Topo! State Series software to trace the route provided by the Waves to Wine staff. The resulting GPX files were converted to CRS files and uploaded to Torea's Forerunner. We were only successful at a combined course and elevation map for the first day's route. The second day's map contained only the course. For this reason, we decided to dedicate my Forerunner 305 to the acquisition of a empirical course and elevation dataset while physically on the ride. (Note to self: don't forget to charge your Forerunner in-between the first and second days.¹)

The monumental hill and extremely rough road leading into the last few miles of our first day slowed us down. We crossed the finish line at 4:34 PM, and promptly drank several glasses of the cold beer charitably bestowed by the New Belgium Brewery (makers of Fat Tire Amber Ale). Special mention is deserved for Torea's husband (Jeremy) and aunt, who supported us on this ride by meeting us at the finishes and transporting us to and from the hotels we stayed at during the tour. We enjoyed fine dining with them when we weren't riding or sleeping.

Day two began with a cold fog and another monumental hill. The first ten miles seemed like they were straight up. Advil may have helped relieve the pain from the prior day's ride, but did nothing to help the discouragement of such a difficult start. The coast was socked in with fog, which didn't burn off until the afternoon. The fog made our glasses useless, but I was cheering up and committed by the 30-mile mark. The sky became brilliant blue, and I put the SAG (Support And Gear) wagon² out of my mind. We were going to finish this ride, and finish it well. 400 ounces of water and six Advil into the ride, we crossed the finish line in Petaluma. The New Belgium Brewery truck welcomed us with open arms and full glasses. A woman with MS thanked us for our participation -- she recently regained her ability to walk as a result of treatment supported by the National Multiple Sclerosis Society.

A photo collection of our ride can be view by [clicking here].

None of us three suffered any bike malfunctions or flat tires during the ride. None of us three crashed. We were very, very lucky. I can't say as much for the numerous road kill animals on the bike route. Automobiles took the lives of nine squirrels, two blue birds, one possum, two racoons, four deer, one hawk, and countless snakes and frogs (at last count)³.

¹ Although the Garmin Forerunner 305 has superb battery life (estimated at ten hours), it won't be enough to stay alive for two day-long events between a recharge. Unfortunately, both Torea and I forgot to charge our Forerunners after the first day's ride. This meant that I only captured part of the second day's course. Luckily, someone else on the ride did capture and share their dataset for day two.

² The SAG wagon will pick up weary or hurt riders and take them to the finish. Most mechanical problems can be repaired on the course, but some breakdowns serious enough to necessitate the SAG wagon.

³ We made a game of keeping track since there were so many this year.

Will you join me in the fight against Multiple Sclerosis? I will be riding in the MS 150 Bike Tour on September 9th and 10th in Northern California to help end the devastating effects of Multiple Sclerosis. I need your help to meet my fundraising goal of $1,000. The money will fund local programs and research for better treatments and a cure. 58% of every dollar raised funds local programs. 22% of every dollar raised funds research and national programs.

This will be my third 150-mile MS bike ride. I rode the MS 150 Waves to Wine Bike Tour in Northern California during 2002 and the MS 150 Bike Tour in Washington during 2004.

Recently, great progress has been made in MS research, and the National MS Society now recommends drug therapies that help slow the disease's progression and reduce the frequency and severity of attacks. With the generosity of people like you, we someday hope to find a cure for multiple sclerosis.

Please sponsor me online with an e-pledge by visiting [clicking here]. A pledge of as little as $25.00 would go a long way. All donations (large and small) make a difference.

Thank you for your support!

You might suffer from an addiction to latte art or roller coasters, but I have an addiction to a certain category of gadgets. My particular "fix" comes in the form of gadgets that perform an automated data acquisition task. (Geek Alert!) An example is the real time temperature monitor I recently installed at our data center. The latest "kick", however, is Garmin's new Forerunner 305. Having previously owned two of Timex's Ironman speed + distance systems (one with, and one without heart rate monitoring) and several other handheld GPS units, I can authoritatively state that Garmin has finally succeeded in an odyssey strewn with antecedent carcasses.

"Such strong words," you say? I'll let you in on a couple dirty little secrets about most portable GPS units. After spending between $300 and $500 on each, you'll learn to your chagrin that they only work in the middle of a desert on a clear day for the ten minutes that their double "A" batteries hold out. That's right. They're so pathetic that trees and clouds will reduce them to nothing but a battery consumption apparatus (which, ironically, they are exceedingly good at). Did I mention high-tension power lines? How about outside tall city buildings?

Don't get me wrong. GPS has held enormous potential. It's just that those of you, like me, who have purchased model after model need to start being honest about their shortcomings. Or, like me, you need to toss the lot of them and buy the Garmin Forerunner 305. (No, I'm not being paid my Garmin.) It's compact, easy to use, and reliable. I'm searching for something I don't like about it.

Let me explain.

The Forerunner 305 is an oversized wristwatch combined with a traditional heart rate monitor chest strap and, optional, cadence sensor (for cycling). I've been using it for running, cycling and hiking. In those activities, I most often have the unit's display set to indicate event duration, distance, pace or speed, and heart rate. Unlike pedometers or bike computers, GPS provides truly accurate speed and distance measurements. (Elevation calculation is a bonus that pedometers don't even pretend to deliver.) The advantages, however, aren't limited to the course or trail. A provided computer interface enables transfer of the acquired data to a web-based training log and analysis service (subscription required: www.motionbased.com). That's where the trifecta of GPS, data acquisition and Web Services reach a mesmerizing crescendo.

Take, for example, the following log of the past three running events at Greenlake. They were all fairly slow and short runs, but you can begin to image how such a log would aid in training over the season.

Motion Based logs all of the data acquired by the Forerunner, and combines it with weather data, a graphing system, and a handful of mapping systems. For instance, I can see that this morning's Greenlake run weather was noted as "scattered clouds at 1000 feet" (from the Boeing Field weather station). The average, low and high temperatures, relative humidity and wind speed were also recorded. Sitting like a maraschino cherry on the top of all this delicious data acquisition dessert is the Google Earth feature. (Your jaw will drop when you first see a Google Earth tour of an event recorded with the Forerunner.)

The image to your left is just a still photo of the Google Earth tour. If you want to experience the real thing, here are a couple Google Earth files from my training log: Greenlake (running), Lake Washington (cycling), and Rattlesnake Ledge (hiking). [You'll have to right-click on the links and save the files to your computer. You will also need to download the Google Earth software from http://earth.google.com.]

I'm not even scratching the surfice of Motion Based's data analysis features with this blog post. You can combine the data in several different ways to produce line, distribution and pie charts. Here's a simple one showing heart rate and elevation of this afternoon's hike to Rattlesnake Ledge.

The Garmin Forerunner 305 receives my strongest endorsement.