Saturday was 60F, sunny, and breezy outside – near perfect conditions for a long ride and tempo run immediately following. I had charted a bike course the night before, as plans for riding over in Illinois had changed in the previous 24 hours. I’m an avid user of MapMyRide.com (as well as MapMyRun). I can search for routes others have mapped and made public, or I can plot my own and return the favor.
Saturday’s itinerary was a combination of hijacking a portion of a stored route and tweaking it to fit my own needs. Besides providing road classifications, MapMyRide has another all-important metric on their site – the critical elevation measurement. This helps determine if the hills you’ll encounter during your jaunt will be simple speed bumps or real lungbusters that leave your heart about to pop out of your rib cage and your legs shaking violently from the sheer exertion they would rival Elvis in his early days.
Nearly all bikes have the ability to interchange the cogset (the set of gears on the back wheel hub, sometimes called a cassette). The number of teeth on each cog has a direct correlation to how “easy” it is to pedal – the more teeth, the easier it is to pedal and with higher revolutions, a true test of pedal stroke efficiency. Fewer teeth increases the effort but allows for more “torque” when pedaling downhill to gain speed for instance.
I have 10 cogs on the back of my triathlon bike that range in size from 11 to 23 teeth, (hence the phrase “my eleven-twenty-three”). This is pretty standard for riding flat to rolling hills. I also have a 12-27 for some of the more severe stuff in West St. Louis County. A painful lesson learned last August during the Steel Legs Century (100-mile) ride, I didn’t have enough “easier” gears to mitigate the ridiculous grades of nearly every one of the hills. I was standing to pedal and my heart was pounding just 1/3 of the way up each excruciating hill. I didn’t dare look straight up…remember the brain rules the body and my mind would’ve called for mass exodus of all currently employed muscle fibers. And that was just the first 60 miles! 45 miles later (yeah, I took a wrong turn and had ridden a bit before realizing it) my legs were shredded and I could barely drive home, much less RUN 45 minutes as the workout plan called for that day. The temperature that day also topped out at 98F. I went home looking like a modern-day replica of the Biblical character Lot whose wife who turned into a pillar of salt when looking back on the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. Yup, there was waste and destruction in my wake alright…
Saturday was not that bad. However, the day held many more and different kinds of surprises. I DID underestimate the elevation readings prior to getting out the door and this was confirmed when I’d been riding for about 45 minutes, getting a really good warmup, and I made the first turn onto the less trafficked roads…all I could think was Hmmm…ok, it doesn’t look too long and ooooo, look at the line of cars coming behind you on this TWO-LANE ROAD…so hoof it woman!!
3 miles later another steep one loomed before me, then another…by the third one I was thinking Hello McFly -- WRONG CASSETTE!!! I actually dismounted and walked partway up the third hill – but just partway – before I got back on my steed and muscled my way up, hoping the name of the road – RIDGE ROAD – meant exactly that – a RIDGE.
It did; thankfully most of the serious climbing was behind me and I could focus on remaining tucked into my aerobars against the formidable wind and push my way up the now-so-called “speed bumps” which more closely resembled the race courses I’ll be facing this summer.
I was coasting down the last of the county roads - just over the 50-mile mark - and had just merged into the beginning of the St. Louis County area when suddenly I really really felt the road under my back tire…a FLAT – hah!!
No worries, I was prepared; in fact I had thought to bring two of everything needed to replace a flat: 2 tubes, 2 CO2 cartridges, 2 tires, 2 patches/glue, even 2 Snickers bite-sized squares to maintain equilibrium in my mood :) (besides the truckload of food in my Bento Box…)
I would need ‘em because it seemed I had thumbs for nimble fingers that day – I had trouble just loosening the skewer on my back wheel to remove it from the frame. Once I got that done here’s how things unfolded:
“Alrighty then, back tire off the frame – wait!! – is your aero-bottle empty?? Don’t want that precious elixir spilling out when you lay your bike down…”
“Ok, bottle is empty, set the wheel aside and lay the frame down – derailleur-side up!!”
“Just pop the tire bead off on one side...just pop it right off…come on now, just POP IT OFF…maybe you should just check to see the tube is completely deflated…”
[Hands are getting blacker by the second…]
“Amazing how much air can still be in a “flat” tire tube…Tire OFF, woohoo, put the new tube inside the tire…”
“Why so much tube left over??....rrrrrrrriippp…oh man, WRONG tube size, ha ha!!”
[Hands look like they’ve washed with coal…]
“Extra tube in pouch, nice…this one fits perfectly…pop the tire back on and grab a CO2 cartridge…”
“Oooooo, my hand and the little “gun” are suddenly freezing…nice, the safety wasn’t engaged on the gun and it just pierced the cartridge w/o being on the freakin’ valve…”
[I decide at this point I’ve ridden just shy of my workout plan and the hills alone compensated for slightly lower-than-planned mileage…with two coal-black fingers I grip my cellphone and call Steve…]
“pull out a second cartridge and this time I attach the gun to the valve FIRST...cool, tire inflates perfectly…”
“Steve on his way…wouldn’t it be funny if I get the bike put back together just as he pulls up, hee hee…”
“Just slip the tire back into the dropouts and you’ll be good to go!”
[Hands are SO BLACK I’m seriously considering a sudden color change on my bike frame…from burnt orange to matte black with black-on-black fingerprint accents…]
“Darn tire won’t go back in…aww, look at that – the chain is totally off the front chain rings now…”
The cellphone rings and it’s Steve who is sitting at the traffic light and can see me on the side of the road…
I got the chain put back on the front chain ring, secured the back tire lickety-split, re-skewered the skewer, and unbelievably the bike was ready to go just as he pulled up.
HA HA HA!!! I could hardly stop laughing…man, does God have a sense of humor.
We drove home and had a glorious tempo run together – a GREAT day in all :)
I’ll savor a visit from Murphy anytime :)
Saturday’s itinerary was a combination of hijacking a portion of a stored route and tweaking it to fit my own needs. Besides providing road classifications, MapMyRide has another all-important metric on their site – the critical elevation measurement. This helps determine if the hills you’ll encounter during your jaunt will be simple speed bumps or real lungbusters that leave your heart about to pop out of your rib cage and your legs shaking violently from the sheer exertion they would rival Elvis in his early days.
Nearly all bikes have the ability to interchange the cogset (the set of gears on the back wheel hub, sometimes called a cassette). The number of teeth on each cog has a direct correlation to how “easy” it is to pedal – the more teeth, the easier it is to pedal and with higher revolutions, a true test of pedal stroke efficiency. Fewer teeth increases the effort but allows for more “torque” when pedaling downhill to gain speed for instance.
I have 10 cogs on the back of my triathlon bike that range in size from 11 to 23 teeth, (hence the phrase “my eleven-twenty-three”). This is pretty standard for riding flat to rolling hills. I also have a 12-27 for some of the more severe stuff in West St. Louis County. A painful lesson learned last August during the Steel Legs Century (100-mile) ride, I didn’t have enough “easier” gears to mitigate the ridiculous grades of nearly every one of the hills. I was standing to pedal and my heart was pounding just 1/3 of the way up each excruciating hill. I didn’t dare look straight up…remember the brain rules the body and my mind would’ve called for mass exodus of all currently employed muscle fibers. And that was just the first 60 miles! 45 miles later (yeah, I took a wrong turn and had ridden a bit before realizing it) my legs were shredded and I could barely drive home, much less RUN 45 minutes as the workout plan called for that day. The temperature that day also topped out at 98F. I went home looking like a modern-day replica of the Biblical character Lot whose wife who turned into a pillar of salt when looking back on the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. Yup, there was waste and destruction in my wake alright…
Saturday was not that bad. However, the day held many more and different kinds of surprises. I DID underestimate the elevation readings prior to getting out the door and this was confirmed when I’d been riding for about 45 minutes, getting a really good warmup, and I made the first turn onto the less trafficked roads…all I could think was Hmmm…ok, it doesn’t look too long and ooooo, look at the line of cars coming behind you on this TWO-LANE ROAD…so hoof it woman!!
3 miles later another steep one loomed before me, then another…by the third one I was thinking Hello McFly -- WRONG CASSETTE!!! I actually dismounted and walked partway up the third hill – but just partway – before I got back on my steed and muscled my way up, hoping the name of the road – RIDGE ROAD – meant exactly that – a RIDGE.
It did; thankfully most of the serious climbing was behind me and I could focus on remaining tucked into my aerobars against the formidable wind and push my way up the now-so-called “speed bumps” which more closely resembled the race courses I’ll be facing this summer.
I was coasting down the last of the county roads - just over the 50-mile mark - and had just merged into the beginning of the St. Louis County area when suddenly I really really felt the road under my back tire…a FLAT – hah!!
No worries, I was prepared; in fact I had thought to bring two of everything needed to replace a flat: 2 tubes, 2 CO2 cartridges, 2 tires, 2 patches/glue, even 2 Snickers bite-sized squares to maintain equilibrium in my mood :) (besides the truckload of food in my Bento Box…)
I would need ‘em because it seemed I had thumbs for nimble fingers that day – I had trouble just loosening the skewer on my back wheel to remove it from the frame. Once I got that done here’s how things unfolded:
“Alrighty then, back tire off the frame – wait!! – is your aero-bottle empty?? Don’t want that precious elixir spilling out when you lay your bike down…”
“Ok, bottle is empty, set the wheel aside and lay the frame down – derailleur-side up!!”
“Just pop the tire bead off on one side...just pop it right off…come on now, just POP IT OFF…maybe you should just check to see the tube is completely deflated…”
[Hands are getting blacker by the second…]
“Amazing how much air can still be in a “flat” tire tube…Tire OFF, woohoo, put the new tube inside the tire…”
“Why so much tube left over??....rrrrrrrriippp…oh man, WRONG tube size, ha ha!!”
[Hands look like they’ve washed with coal…]
“Extra tube in pouch, nice…this one fits perfectly…pop the tire back on and grab a CO2 cartridge…”
“Oooooo, my hand and the little “gun” are suddenly freezing…nice, the safety wasn’t engaged on the gun and it just pierced the cartridge w/o being on the freakin’ valve…”
[I decide at this point I’ve ridden just shy of my workout plan and the hills alone compensated for slightly lower-than-planned mileage…with two coal-black fingers I grip my cellphone and call Steve…]
“pull out a second cartridge and this time I attach the gun to the valve FIRST...cool, tire inflates perfectly…”
“Steve on his way…wouldn’t it be funny if I get the bike put back together just as he pulls up, hee hee…”
“Just slip the tire back into the dropouts and you’ll be good to go!”
[Hands are SO BLACK I’m seriously considering a sudden color change on my bike frame…from burnt orange to matte black with black-on-black fingerprint accents…]
“Darn tire won’t go back in…aww, look at that – the chain is totally off the front chain rings now…”
The cellphone rings and it’s Steve who is sitting at the traffic light and can see me on the side of the road…
I got the chain put back on the front chain ring, secured the back tire lickety-split, re-skewered the skewer, and unbelievably the bike was ready to go just as he pulled up.
HA HA HA!!! I could hardly stop laughing…man, does God have a sense of humor.
We drove home and had a glorious tempo run together – a GREAT day in all :)
I’ll savor a visit from Murphy anytime :)
1 comment:
OH.MY.GOSH. This is too funny, Catherine! :) Glad you are ok - Jen H.
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