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kirkcudbrightToday I tested a daft notion I've privately held for a while: that I could do a century cold. Translation: I did a 100-mile bike ride, without any training or other preparation. As in, this was the first time I'd been on a bike this year. The thinking (to the extent there was any) was that a) I'm in moderately good physical condition, and b) I know how to pace myself. I mean, hey, I did back-to-back centuries in the desert (on I-80, no less) a couple years ago.
I clicked into a groove pretty early, and the section to the first rest stop (at 43 miles) went pretty quickly. At the 55 mile mark, I had to choose between the metric century (62 miles) and the full century. I'd already proved my point (more or less), but I'm kind of a fuck-head about things like this, and I wanted to do the whole thing. And I did the whole thing; I now hurt pretty much everywhere. I feel, as my cow-orker Bruce so poetically put it, like a "sack of smashed assholes."
For all that, I did it in a respectable 6:31 (time in the saddle, not counting breaks). Not a personal best, but not my worst time either. It's actually a better time than a fellow I was talking to afterwards, who's admittedly older and plumper than I am, but who's also logged 1000 miles this season. Of course, he probably didn't need to soak his back and take a nap afterwards.
So while I can't condone (and shouldn't encourage) such manifest stupidity, I do feel compelled to whisper in your ear: "You know that thing you've been meaning to try? Go for it." It's almost worth it to find out.
Next up: more pictures of Scotland.
I clicked into a groove pretty early, and the section to the first rest stop (at 43 miles) went pretty quickly. At the 55 mile mark, I had to choose between the metric century (62 miles) and the full century. I'd already proved my point (more or less), but I'm kind of a fuck-head about things like this, and I wanted to do the whole thing. And I did the whole thing; I now hurt pretty much everywhere. I feel, as my cow-orker Bruce so poetically put it, like a "sack of smashed assholes."
For all that, I did it in a respectable 6:31 (time in the saddle, not counting breaks). Not a personal best, but not my worst time either. It's actually a better time than a fellow I was talking to afterwards, who's admittedly older and plumper than I am, but who's also logged 1000 miles this season. Of course, he probably didn't need to soak his back and take a nap afterwards.
So while I can't condone (and shouldn't encourage) such manifest stupidity, I do feel compelled to whisper in your ear: "You know that thing you've been meaning to try? Go for it." It's almost worth it to find out.
Next up: more pictures of Scotland.
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Date: 2005-08-28 03:12 am (UTC)I recommend the green salt.
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Date: 2005-08-30 02:46 am (UTC)