The Big Event That Wasn't

Since I became serious about cycling back in 2008, I've built each cycling year around a Big Event that would be the main focus of my training and planning.

• In 2008, my first year of getting serious about cycling, it was the Seattle to Portland double century. 
• In 2009, it was spread across four separate rides as I dove into the randonneuring deep end and set out to ride my first Super Randonneur series. 
• In 2010 the Cascade 1200 was the pinnacle of my season as I took the next step up the randonneuring ladder. 
• In 2011, the granddaddy of grand randonnee's, Paris-Brest-Paris consumed me for months. 
• And finally 2012's event was the San Francisco Randonneurs' Golden Gate 1000.

I love having a Big Event to plan and train for. I never have a problem with going for a long ride in the country with no particular purpose, but with a goal in mind my energy level rises and I feel as though the ride is not just another ride, but a leg in an epic journey. I can push myself harder and longer when I'm training for an event rather than just out burning calories.

This year I had a different kind of Big Event in mind. The idea started with a fat dog.

Our dog Lucy is a sweetheart but let's face it, she's too fat. I can't practically take her on rides with me, so last fall I started running with her to help her burn off some calories. I've never been much of a runner; it always seemed to me like a painful unpleasant task one did because one couldn't think of a more sensible way to exercise. But Lucy seemed to like it, so I was willing to make a sacrifice for my dog with the runaway BMI.

Somehow on those early morning runs through the park with Lucy, completely without warning, I became a runner. It snuck up on me. I found myself actually looking forward to going running, and wanting to do progressively longer runs. I'd catch myself researching running shoes online rather than cranksets and derailleurs.

One thing lead to another, and by the Spring of this year I was making plans for a 2013 Big Event that didn't have a darned thing to do with bicycles or randonneuring. A runner friend, John came up with the concept and I opened my wallet wide and bought in. The plan was to do a 17 mile trail run through the Enchantment Lakes, from the Colchuck Lake/Aasgard Pass end through to the Snow Lakes trail head. The date was loosely set for Labor Day weekend. 17 miles isn't marathon distance, but with about 4,400 ft of elevation gain and 6,500 ft of descent it would be a challenging enough run to easily qualify as my Big Event for the year.

As I started ramping up the running miles, I realized I had no choice but to ramp down my cycling. There are only so many hours in a day and it was hard to find the time, let alone the physical and mental energy for both running and cycling. So, once I had wrapped up a Super Randonneur series with the Seattle Randonneurs' Watery Olympic 600k in early June, I shifted gears from cycling to running.

Other than my daily commute to and from work I did very little cycling during July and August. I rode fewer miles in July and August combined than I had ridden in either May or June alone. But with my training for the Big Event keeping me busy and flooded with endorphins, I wasn't missing cycling much.

July and early August were filled with some fantastic and memorable trail runs of increasing difficulty, including a beautiful rolling 12 mile ramble on the Mt Rainier Wonderland trail from Longmire to Box Canyon and a grueling 16 mile loop from Mowich Lake through Spray Park and along the Carbon River.

But with that Mowich Lake loop I made a classic rookie runner mistake: Too much too soon. With a ton of crazy steep climbing and descending it was more than my inadequately trained half century-old knees could take. I developed an extremely sore right knee about 10 miles into the run and had to walk the last five miles. My knee continued to hurt enough that I thought I should stop running for a few days to let it recover. Problem is, it ended up taking a few weeks to recover instead of a few days.

On the Sunday of Labor Day weekend, John and another friend ran the Big Event without me. They lucked into some ideal weather and had a fantastic time. I hadn't been able to do any running for a couple weeks at that point, and my knee was still too painful to even think about running around the block.

Summer seems to have ended early in the Pacific Northwest this year. The storms are rolling through like it's November and snow has already started falling high in the mountains. There'll be no Big Event for me this year.

The good news is that I'm finally back into running shape again, but starting slow, doing three and four mile runs close to home. Lucy is happy to see me running again and so am I. Luckily cycling doesn't seem to aggravate the knee problem at all, so I was able to get in some nice long rides in the last days of summer.

Running is in my blood now and I intend to keep it up as long as my body allows, but when it comes to the Big Events, I've discovered that my body is much happier being pushed to the limit on a bike than on foot.

PBP: Registered!

I did it! Yep, just moments ago I submitted my registration for PBP 2011. A few mouse clicks, a little typing, a 110 euro charge on the old Visa card and it's done. The PBP organizing board immediately sent me an email confirming my registration, saying something about being allotted a "frame badge" (whatever that is) and wishing me, "a good training, and a safe and enjoyable PBP!" Wow, those guys must have been just sitting there at their computer waiting for my registration!

After lots of agonizing and discussion with fellow randonneurs, I decided to register for the 80 hour start. I also talked my friend Kelly--who I rode most of the Cascade 1200 with last summer--into doing the 80 hour start with me. Why on earth choose an 80 hour start when you can wait a couple of hours and have an extra 10 hours to complete the ride? Well, for all of the reasons I discussed in my previous post about start times. I still think a night start will work best for me. We shall see.

The ride plan at the moment is to ride straight through from Paris to Brest without a sleep stop. Assuming nothing catastrophic happens, we should make it to Brest in the late evening, a good time to sleep. We'll eat, sleep for a few hours, then set out early the next morning, probably before sunrise for the return trip. Again, barring disasters or horrendous headwinds, we should have enough time for another generous sleep stop somewhere on the return trip.

It wasn't long ago that I was seriously worried about my ability to finish the qualifying rides, but they're all done now and there's nothing left between me and PBP but 65 jours 18 hours 26 minutes 15 seconds. But then who's counting?

PBP: Getting Started

One of the many things to think about while planning and scheming for Paris-Brest-Paris is the start time. With up to 6,000 riders, letting them all start at once would be a bit like a snake swallowing a hippopotamus, so the organizers spread the riders out on the course by offering a few different choices for start times.

Start times are divided by the type of bike (solo bikes vs. special bikes, like tandems and recumbants) and by time allowed to complete the course. Riders can choose a 90 hour, 84 hour or 80 hour start, meaning they have 90, 84 or 80 hours in which to complete the ride. So, if you think you're going to need the entire 90 hours, you'll definitely want to choose the 90 hour start time. But if you're pretty sure you can finish in 84 hours or even 80 hours or less, you may want to choose the 84 or 80 start.

The advantage to choosing the 84 or 80 hour start is that it separates you from the 90 hour crowd (usually the biggest group) so the roads and the controls are less crowded with the slower riders. The disadvantage is of course you have less time to finish the ride.

According to the PBP web site, the different start times are:

• Sunday, August 21, from 16:00 for a 80 hours time limit(solo bikes)
• Sunday, August 21, from 17:30, for a 90 hours time limit(special bikes)
• Sunday, August 21, from 18:00, for a 90 hours time limit (solo bikes)
• Sunday, August 21, from 21:00, free starts for a 90 hours time limit (solo bikes)
• Monday, August 22, from 04:45 for a 84 hours time limit(special bikes)
• Monday, August 22, from 05:00, for a 84 hours time limit(solo bikes)
• Monday, August 22, from 05:30 to 08h00, free starts for a return before Thursday 17h00

As you can see, one of the big factors is that the 84 hour start leaves in the morning while all of the others start in the late afternoon and evening. There are some strong opinions out there in randoland about whether it's best to start in the morning or the evening. Some feel that starting in the evening and riding through the first night immediately leaves you with a sleep deficit that you'll be struggling with for the rest of the ride. Others feel that you're better off getting some of that night riding done while you're fresh and well rested.

I've done a couple rides that started at night (a 600k and a 200k) and I actually felt pretty good throughout that first night on both rides. But they were both a lot shorter than PBP, so there's no telling how a night start will affect me 40 or 50 hours into the ride.

The group I'll be riding with likes the 84 hour start, primarily because they all tend to fall into the morning-start-is-best camp. So far I'm not sold on the idea. I like a lot of things about the 80 hour start, like:

• It gets you out in front of almost everyone else. Assuming you keep moving fast enough you'll never even see most of the other riders so you won't have to work your way through them on the road.
• Controls will be clean and uncrowded when you arrive so getting to food, bathrooms, etc. should be quick and easy.
• You have the day to take your time getting to the start. Sleep in, take a nap, relax, no rush...
• At least at the start you'll be surrounded by fast riders giving you plenty of choices to draft on.
• You arrive in Brest in the evening which might make it easier to get some sleep there.

Of course there are also some things to not like about the 80 hour start like:

• Given our planned schedule, the 80 hour start would have us doing a slightly higher percentage of night riding.
• Historically riders choosing the 84 hour start have had a higher finish rate than riders in any other start group (it's not clear why, though possibly starting in the morning has something to do with it).

Ultimately I'll go with whatever my team chooses since my only hope of achieving my big fat goal is to ride with a team.

I'm interested in what start time other PBP riders are choosing and why. And am I over-thinking this a bit?

My Big Fat PBP Goal

I have to admit that the history lesson on Charly Miller posted a few days ago was really just a setup for this post. I've already told a few friends this, but I figure you haven't totally committed to a goal until you've blogged it, right? So here goes:

My goal for PBP is to finish in less than 56 hours and 40 minutes and be added to La Société Charly Miller honor role. There, I said it.

Is it possible? Well, I'd say it's a long shot; what my bosses in corporate America refer to as a "stretch goal." And it definitely wouldn't be possible for me to do this by myself. But... with the right group of cyclists working together, plus good luck with the weather (especially wind), plus no big mechanical issues, plus no navigation mistakes, plus no serious physical problems, and with a heapin' helpin' of suffering, it seems possible. In theory anyway.

This goal grew from a seed that was planted on the second brevet I ever did back in the spring of '09. I rode almost the entire 300 km brevet with a group of six fast riders, and together we finished the ride in just under 12 hours. Bob Brudvik and Wayne Methner were in the group of six and somewhere along the way they told me about a group that was forming that wanted to make the CM list in 2011, and that they thought I should join them. At that point I knew next to nothing about PBP and had never heard of Charly Miller. I couldn't even imagine riding any distance greater than 200 miles in those days. So of course I said, "oh yeah, I'm in," thinking the conversation would be forgotten.

Over the remainder of the 2009 brevet season and through the 2010 season, I'd often see Bob on rides and again we'd talk about the Charly Miller society. Bob's a good salesman and I'm sort of a sucker for a pointless challenge so it wasn't long before I started believing it really could be done. See the deal is... (I'm channeling Bob a bit now) all you have to do is maintain a pace of 4 hours per 100 kilometers (including controls) all the way to Brest. That get's you there in 24 hours. You spend 4 hours eating and sleeping and then get back on the bike for the return trip. This gives you 28 hours to get back, which lets you ride a bit slower on the return trip. Sounds simple, right?

I've done 200km, 300km and 400km brevets at a pace of better than 4 hours per 100 km before. It's not easy, and for me it can only be done riding with a group, but it can be done. It's kind of like golf. Even if your a lousy golfer (which I was back when I used to golf), every once in a great while you hit a shot, like maybe a hundred yard approach shot, that looks just like something Tiger Woods would do. While that one shot is in the air, you're thinking to yourself, "hey, I'm pretty good." But in reality you're not that good, you just hit a good shot. The difference between you and Tiger is that you hit one like that out of about 115 shots while he does it every time.

So my point is, I can ride a 100 km in 4 hours, but it takes a Tiger Woods... er or maybe Lance Armstrong would be a better example? Anyway, it takes something more to maintain that pace for 1200 km.

But like I said, it's a stretch goal.