okay, so what you're saying is...you're chicken

I spent another Saturday night at home in my boxer shorts and a tank top, flopped out on my couch. I did pull it together enough to go get dinner and send a few emails, but other than that...I flopped. It didn't help that I didn't get home from CAM 10 (100 miles from Malibu to Carpinteria and back) until after dark. My dragon was already asleep when I arrived and not so thrilled about me taking her out of her terrarium, wrapping her in her blankie and petting her profusely while I stilled smelled like road-kill. I just felt so bad that she'd been stuck home all day alone (again) when I'd promised her yesterday morning that I'd be home by 5:00pm at the latest.

Anyway, Boo's and my relationship aside, I'm really on here to talk about CAM 10. It was a doozy, let me tell ya, and not in the way that leaves me grinning from ear-to-ear. Yes, I smiled quite often all day yesterday, but more in a grimacing kind of way in my delirious state near the end of the day. Simply put - I suffered. Herb suffered too (or so he said), so we were a pair of whining, wincing sad-sacks rolling along the coast with some of the prettiest ocean views I've seen all year (and that's saying a lot cause I've seen a lot!)

The very first issue of the day was timing. Herb pushed this ride back just a mere 15 minutes from a 7:30am to a 7:45am clip-in and departure from Neptune's Net on Pacific Coast Highway. While you might think 15 minutes is nothing, remember that folks often run late and all other types of sh*t happens. I had a flat back tire at the start of the ride for instance. Of course, I'm the world's fastest flat tube changer (for a girl, anyway...a girl who doesn't race and rides with men predominantly), so I had it fixed in a nano-second (six minutes). But then there were a few other hold-ups, so by the time we rolled, it was closer to 8:15am. Yup, we'd lost a good 30-45 minutes of our normal ride day time.

And we're off...

Early morning PCH...I love it!

Then, as luck would have it, we got a flat tire not but two miles from the start. That took another 15 minutes to change (I was not involved, although I learned later - the hard way - why it took two men so long to fix the flat!). Now...we'd lost an hour's time.

GT rockin' the Sol Cal Jersey....and knows it

Men comparing jerseys (from left to right - Kurt, Jason, Herb)

How many cyclists does it take to fix a flat? (Kurt in the foreground; Andy & Tom in the back)

The crew that had joined for the day's outing was Jason, Andy, Kurt, GT, Tom, Herb and me. If you've ever read this blog and my ride reports, you'll know who was in the back (slower) pack. The 'fast guys' dropped us before we even got off PCH and onto East Hueneme Road. Andy was leading the group, and Jason, who can drop any of us at any time all while flashing an innocent smile, chased him. GT and Kurt's tails perked up, and off they chased. Herb, Tom and I watched them go helplessly. Seriously now...I heard that they were pace-lining at 25 mph from the time they left us to the Shell station in Oxnard! No way I can do that pace on a century ride even on my better days. As it was, I did "push the pace," according to Herb, at 19-20 mph with the boys on my back wheel. I didn't feel as if I was pushing anything truthfully, but Herb told me I rode strong yesterday (well, in the morning that is). I'm still not convinced as much.

Tom, happy to be back on the bike

Along Naval Air Road

For one thing, yours truly has changed her workout routine, remember? I've been stair-stepping, running (okay, jogging, skipping, walking...whatever) and am back to lifting weights. I tore my lower body down on Wednesday morning and my upper body down on Friday morning. Word of advise here...don't do that the week before a century. Seriously. Why I did was basically cockiness (I mean, how many centuries have I ridden this year already?) and foolishness. I could have used fresh arms, back muscles and abs yesterday, trust me! Instead....I suffered.

Andy rockin' the So Cal kit...oh, by the way

By the time Herb, Tom and I pulled into the Shell station in Oxnard (where the fast pack was just about to leave), I could feel the dreaded fatigue that would stay with me all day already. I've ridden so many endurance rides of various distances, and I know my body quite well...well enough to know when I'm flat out screwed. At mile 17 on a 100 mile ride (okay, 98.5 miles, but who's counting?), one shouldn't be feeling the kind of weariness I was already experiencing. I decided to HTFU and keep my mind focused on pedaling. I knew we'd lost some time and my hope was to make it up through the flat Oxnard farmland.

Ventura Harbor

Along the Ventura coastal bike path

As we took off again toward the Ventura Harbor, we heard Tom cry out, "Flat!!!" Doh! Herb and I stopped and looked at each other with dismay. It wasn't Tom's fault, but we didn't have another 15-20 minutes to spare on fixing a flat. I decided to spring into action. I grabbed Tom's tire and got busy. I had it near changed when suddenly I realized how tight the tire seated to his wheel's rim.

"Why is this so difficult?" I asked Tom.

"It's because his rims are like Jason's," Herb chimed in before Tom could answer. "It's deeper than our rims making seating the tire much harder." (Lovely)

Nearly twenty minutes later, me cursing, all three of us pushing on the tire, we finally seated it in the rim. Tom had also announced that he had a loose (near broken) spoke. That's dangerous to ride on, so I insisted he go back from that point. He pondered the idea of going to a bike store so that he could continue on, and I snapped at him, "Tom! This is Herb's and my CAM 10. We don't have time for a bike shop!"

Now, let me state here. Tom is my friend, the sweetest guy and a big boy who can take care of himself. But riding a century alone after three weeks of the flu (which is what he was doing) is not the wisest choice. My telling him to turn around was partly for his safety as well as my desire to get moving and not have to worry about him. My reaction may have been a bit harsh, but it was from real concern for all parties involved.

Why he does this, I just don't know.

But like I told Herb yesterday, the last two CAMs for this year will be ridden without others along with us (i.e. Herb and I wait for no one but each other). Sorry, but these rides are a challenge and not social rides. Trust me, if you ever take on a CAM, by the month of October, you will be sick of it. If you weren't riding a CAM and just happened to knock out a century a month all year long, you might actually dig it. But the whole "got to do it to make my goal" thing can be exhausting. And when you are on these rides, you don't really like having to wait on others. You just want to ride them, accomplish them and be done. Do I sound mean? Yeah, well, too bad. I'm now into October, two more months to go of this challenge, and I'm getting sick of it! - I think my being a tad grouchy is warranted.

On Gubenator Canyon

After the climb...I was so tired here.

After Tom departed, Herb and I hammered again to try and make up time. Now, we had lost close to 1.5 hours! Really, I don't know why we felt such a desire to catch the fast pack. They were just going to drop us again later in the ride (which they did). But we hammered nonetheless, skipped the Casitas Pass climb (oh, thank goodness!), took on Gubenator Canyon (not a hard hill on a good day, but a miserable climb on crappy ride days....like yesterday), and arrived in Carpinteria before the fast pack.

Ready to descend into Carpinteria

As we stood in the shade waiting for the boys to round the corner into town where we'd have lunch at McDonald's, Herb texted Jason. The response back was that one of them had cramped badly on the Casitas climb, and that they had skipped Gubenator. This meant a short wait (and much needed break) at McDonald's until the boys pulled in, hungry and ready for salty-fried-goodness otherwise known as french fries. I'm glad we caught the fast pack (although I paid dearly for it later) cause lunch with the whole group present was a nice treat. It also led to some spirited conversation. It really started when Jason encouraged Herb and me to hang onto their (the fast pack's) wheels on the way back.

This made me laugh so hard! Married men calling their honeys...(from left around - Andy, GT, Kurt, Jason)

"You can do it," Jason said, with that innocent, slightly quizzical expression he wears when he's full of sh*t. "Just jump on [the pace line] and we'll all work together, taking turns [pulling] on the way home."

I think I may actually have rolled my eyes at him, twice, before responding. "You're full of it, Jason. I can't hang on your wheel even in a pace line, and besides, this subject is something I want to talk to all of you about. I'm going to say something that you boys won't like or follow, but I'm going to say it anyway..." I then went on to explain to those men that riding in a pace line is dangerous and really...well...foolish for amateur, recreational riders - like all of us! I explained that, although the pro racers at the Tour de France "do it," it does not mean that we should. I also addressed Jason directly by stating that, although he may be skilled at it, he shouldn't assume the rest of us are.

There was silence at the end of my (very genuinely concerned for their and my own safety) lecture. I was looking at Jason, who was looking back...now frowning somewhat quizzically. He said nothing, nor did the others - until, suddenly, Andy stood up and said in a way only Andy can get away with, "Okay, so what you're saying is....you're chicken."

GT, Jason gearing up to fly with Herb back behind them, not willing to follow.

The laughter that broke out from that one line was so infectious, I couldn't help but laugh too. It was, after all, funny...and so very true. Yeah, I am chicken, so what of it? Besides, as Herb and I remarked later...we can't even hang on their wheels when we try. So, really, Jason is full of it. I hope he reads this, too, so that he'll know just how much Herb and I laughed when he and the rest of them boys dropped us like badly microwaved potatoes pretty much within five minutes after lunch and a restroom stop. (Sigh)

Click on pic to enlarge and look at red circle...that would be the men dropping Herb and me.

Then...it was suffer, suffer, suffer...all the way back...a good 45 miles, might I add. The fries, coke and half a sandwich Herb and I shared did nothing for me. After all, I wasn't bonking yesterday, I was fatiguing, which is entirely different. To bonk is to mess up your fueling and hydration, something I rarely do except on brutally hot days (which was not the case yesterday, and actually it was quite cool in the breeze all day long). I know when and what I need to eat/drink that will keep my motor running. But every once in awhile, my wheels just stop rolling smoothly and I feel a fatigue that is deadly on a century ride. No matter how much I stopped and stretched or pedaled lightly in my easiest gear, my body just ached and, sadly, betrayed me. I wanted to be off the bike more than on it - and that is not like me!

This bridge in Oxnard both scares & delights me.

While some girls go get pedicures & wax jobs on the weekend...I get 'grimed.'

Herb was struggling too. I teased him later, calling him a "sympathy sufferer" since he really didn't start suffering until I did. I know his pain was real as I know him so well, but it's still so much fun to rib him! We've been riding partners for CAM now for 10 months, and we ride together on so many other various-distanced rides, we know each others' temperaments, strengths and weaknesses. Herb knew I was hurting yesterday, and since he was just about in the same boat, all we could do was forge ahead, make light of it and whine to each other. It's rides like these, shared between two friends, that are the most memorable, believe it or not. I was so grateful I had my true-blue buddy there to suffer with me! (Misery loves company, right?) Best suffering-whiner line all day came from Herb after a crow flew above and past us along the coast, "Geez, I'm even being dropped by a bird." Heh heh.

We kept a pitiful pace along the gorgeous coast as the afternoon sun caressed the waves, and the spirited seagulls danced in flight above us. Even with my dampened mood and aching quads, I was still happy to be out there, although desperate to finish. As we hit the final leg home along PCH, Herb got ahead of me, and I just let him go. I pedaled with what I had left, hummed to myself, snapped photos and swore I was never riding another 100 miles again. Surprised? Don't be. There have been other, equally miserable ride experiences, where I've had that thought and made that empty promise to myself. I tend to forget it by the time the next ride rolls around, of course, but for a brief moment yesterday afternoon, I wanted to throw my bike in the ocean and take up whale watching!

Like me...Herb's had it.

What a show these guys put on yesterday...glorious!

Afternoon coastal views along PCH

Oh, and I did discover in the last eight miles home that my front brakes were rubbing my wheel rim the whole day. Sheesh....that was likely a factor, too, in my overall fatigue, but I can't blame it all on that. Once that issue was solved (thank you, Herbie!), my ride was a little smoother. I also had a low back tire (not sure why). Regardless, I finished! Woohoo! CAM 10 done and in the books...with a less than desirable ride time, I'm sure (we finished at 5:30pm!), but it was accomplished. Now...two more to go.

Final home stretch...we can 'smell the barn.'

When we get to this spot...we know we're 'at the barn."

Last word on this - for anyone reading this who has never accomplished a CAM or even ridden a century - I encourage you to do it! Century rides are epic undertakings no matter how cavalier I may be about them. They challenge even us seasoned riders. After all, I have close to 70 centuries under my belt, and I still never know what lies ahead of me on any given ride. It's the adventure, the moments of doubt and discovery along the way and, yes, even the suffering that I crave. I ride these rides for social purposes, but mostly, the challenge is for me. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, or so the saying goes, and that is never truer than when you are pedaling 100 miles to your next destination.