Back in mid-March, in what I can only assume was an uncharacteristic streak of blind optimism, I signed up for three gravel races in less than two days. The first one on the calendar was Ned Gravel whose goal was to build one of the most challenging gravel races in the world. And last weekend, I did that race.

The night before there was a thunderstorm and there was every indication that another storm would occur during the race with possible flooding happening in the canyons. As we drove up to Nederland in a steady rain, we discussed possible bail out points if the conditions deteriorated. We parked at Eldora Ski Resort, organized ourselves, and biked the 5 miles downhill (in the rain) to the starting line.

And then, a miracle. Barely 10 minutes before the race started, the rain magically stopped. And for another five hours, not a single drop of rain fell.

Since we're in the middle of training for Rebecca’s Private Idaho Queen’s Stage Race in Sept, we treated Ned Gravel as a "B" race–a way to test our fitness and preparation but not drop the hammer and go all out. Based on our scouting of the course and my knowledge of the conditions, my goal was to finish in roughly 5.5 hours. Oh, sweet, foolish summer child.

Given we were not intending to push crazy hard, we put ourselves in the back of the pack in the start corral; in fact I was the 147th person to cross the start line. It was a neutral roll out, so I just cruised with Tina up the first hill until out of the blue she asked if my back tire looked a little low. And it did. I popped off my bike at the top of that first hill and did a quick look for a puncture. Nothing. So I jumped back on and quickly caught up to her assuming it was just the low tire pressure of the wider gravel tires I was using.

With the wet but not muddy gravel roads, the course felt fast. The first gravel section was fairly non-technical and it was a hoot to get caught up in the race energy. Tina and I stayed mostly together but once we got onto Sugarloaf Rd, my tire definitely looked even lower. I waited until I was at the top of a hill before jumping off and discovering that my valve had worked itself open. Shit. Closed it tight and figured my tire pressure was fine until I reached an aid station.

Tina was now a couple minutes ahead of me and while I caught glances of her for the next hour, I never caught up. After zooming down Switzerland Trail at a speed that previously would have felt a bit insane, I reached the aid station. And they did not have pump. I had CO2 in my saddle bag but I decided the tire was not low enough to justify losing the time required to pull it out and add 5 psi. So, on I went.

Next we went up the north part of Switzerland Trail. While I had been passing people regularly up to this point, this is where I felt my training really allowed me to just keep moving up and have the oomph to quickly skirt around people on the rocky terrain. The descent down Lefthand Canyon came in no time at all and based on my original plan, I was already 30 minutes ahead of schedule.

On the 12 minute descent, I crammed as much food and drink into my mouth as I could. Finally, I reached the dreaded Lickskillet and there was not a single other biker to be seen. I started up and made it to the first sharp turn before I saw someone ahead walking his bike up. I kept pedaling for another two minutes before I realized I was straining my legs but losing ground to the person ahead. Popped off my bike and started pushing the bike uphill–sweating like no one's business the entire time.

When I reached a point with a long view uphill, I saw Tina's helmet ahead and she was still on her bike. Ever the climber. During this section I got passed by two bikers who were still pedaling but ultimately I think I made the right choice by walking. Sure I probably could have ridden up it a minute faster but only by expending a great deal of effort. Knowing how much riding was left, I conserved my energy.

At the top I jumped back on my bike, skipped the water station with a friendly wave, and zoomed down Gold Run Rd nearly two minutes faster than I had ever done it before. The power of racing energy.

And then began the long, gradual climb up Four Mile Rd before the race continued up south Switzerland Trail to Peak to Peak highway. Nearly 15 miles and 2450' of climbing total, more than half on rough trail. I stopped at the aid station at the bottom of Switzerland and filled up a water bottle, scarfed down food and electrolyters, took a deep breath...and biked about 3 minutes further uphill to find a place to pee while a four wheeler went around me.

And then I started up Switzerland Trail in earnest. At this point, I was definitely feeling the race. Despite the cooler weather, I had been sweating profusely and in just three hours had probably burnt over 2300 calories. And there was still a third of the race left with challenging terrain ahead. Time to dig deep.

Halfway up Switzerland Trail, you could see that the distant sky was darkening and could feel a bit of extra weight in the air. Another storm was definitely on the way. Around this point, I met up with another rider and we traded places back and forth for the next 30 minutes or so. This was the first time in the race I really worked with another rider to keep going and had an actual conversation. Definitely helped keep me motivated, but I could have used another gel as we were cruising.

As Switzerland turned from rocky trail into a potholed gravel road, the other biker flagged and I passed him. I was out of food at this point and did not know how much water was left in my hydration pack, so I stopped at the last aid station for a water bottle and a gel. Still 10 miles left in the race but with half of it downhill. A second gel might have been smart, but I was the proverbial horse smelling the barn and I zoomed off.

The next 4 miles flew. Zooming down gravel roads was a hoot after all of that climbing. You get back on Peak to Peak highway for a short while and then there is one last climb before you start heading back towards Nederland. I saw three different bikers walking up that climb, nearly spent. At the top you get on an easy dirt road, then at a junction the rest of the route is downhill. More zooming. My legs loved this recovery and I pushed pretty hard downhill doing 28-30mph.

Finally, you reach the pavement again and you enter Nederland. This is where it got a bit messy. Nederland is not large but is popular on a Saturday in summer, even without a race. I had to maneuver around numerous cars before I could take the turn leading to the finish. Tina had reached the finish ten minutes before me and was taking photos/video, so as I cross the finish line I did a little bunny hop for the camera. Fin.

15 minutes later, it started sprinkling and within 45 minutes it was full on raining. We stuck around for the awards ceremony (Tina got 1st place in her age group) and then drove home still pumped from the race. According to the tracker, my race time was 4:44. The night before I had planned to be out for 5:30, so the race went significantly faster than planned. The combination of rain before the race and the cool temperatures during meant the course was super-fast.

I am rather pleased, especially since I only took two days easy before the race, ended the race with energy left over, and was still able to do my planned 4 hour endurance workout the next day. Seems all this training has been incredibly effective at raising my fitness. And the course is great. Just that perfect blend of scenic, challenging, and thrilling. I highly recommend it. If I am around next year and keep on training (maybe get some more climbing power and technical gravel skills), I would like to treat it as an “A” race and see if I could knock 30-40 minutes off my time.

I am getting really good at failing at Everesting. Although, if you graph my three attempts thus far, it seems probable that I will succeed by my fifth attempt. I am not sure if that is encouraging or mildly worrisome, especially for a theoretical fourth attempt.

This attempt was supposed to be different though! Instead of doing my own version of "training", I was following a professionally created training plan specifically designed for bikers who wished to Everest. What the training plan did not factor into play was a week of >90° temperatures and then my Everesting plan needing a drastic revision at 1am.

Given the hot temperatures, I decided to do my Everesting attempt a couple days earlier than planned and to do the majority of my riding in the dark. This was to take advantage of the fact that Friday was going to be drastically cooler than the rest of the week with a high of only 82°. Friday morning itself was forecasted to be a frosty 52°. Loverly.

For safety and convenience, I chose the nearby NCAR hill since it has a beautiful bike lane to the top, a reasonable grade for climbing, and has a parking lot at the top that is open to the public and the origin point for a number of popular hiking trails–which meant it had a Porta-Potty.

The ride started well. The sun disappeared behind the mountains and the growing darkness made the temperature bearable (though still 80° at 11pm). A strong wind picked up and blew me around a bit, but it was manageable if mildly nerve wracking on the descents. Around midnight–20 laps into a 69 lap Everesting attempt–we were paid a visit by two individuals in a small SUV labeled “Security”. We were informed that the parking lot closed at 11pm and that we could potentially be ticketed by the Boulder Police with a fine of $1500.

Well, shit in a hand basket.

I think it is important to state right now that there is no signage at the bottom of the hill or in the parking lot that indicates this. We scouted it out the day before and purposefully looked for anything that might indicate a problem. The NCAR visitors page has nothing about it. The City of Boulder NCAR trailhead website also says nothing. We checked! Afterwards, the only place we could find a possible mention of the parking lot maybe being closed was on the Boulder Open Space Rules & Regulation page under a “Curfew” tab. And it is still not clear that it applies to the NCAR parking lot. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

So. We had both our cars there. Mine was full of my support gear, backup gear, a cooler, and a wide assortment of snacks. And then Tina had her car with her stuff and also the ability to go home to fetch anything that might be needed. Our first action was for Tina to immediately move her car past the bottom of the hill into the neighborhood. Not an ideal location for support, but it would work. I would continue on my laps while she would come back up and move my car down.

A small wrinkle but manageable or so it seemed. On my way back up NCAR, this same SUV flashed its lights at me and a woman leaned out the window and told me the NCAR road was closed and I should leave. ::blinks:: This happened around 12:15am and I will state for the record that two cars had driven past me on the NCAR road while I was doing this lap. At this point I had been biking for five hours and had done over 9000’ of climbing, but I was not even a third of the way done. My mental state was in a just-keep-pedaling mode and not ready for this curve ball.

Tina arrived in the parking lot soon after this, so we moved my car and I sat down on the curb of a dark street to consider my options. And then I had an allergy attack. The wind had been blowing grass pollen around for hours while I had been sucking it in while climbing a hill repeatedly. Once the adrenaline stopped coursing through my blood, my body let loose with snot and sneezing as I have not experienced in years. We found a Benadryl in my first aid kit and it slowly abated. My throat and lungs felt pretty raw for days afterwards.

Back to the Everesting. Obviously we needed to stay off NCAR. Being told off twice like that made it a non-option. And it was way too late to start all over on a new hill. The only real option was to switch from a normal Everesting (one hill, repeat until 8848m) to a 10K Everesting Roam (anywhere, 10,000m climbing, at least 250mi, 36h time limit). Or, you know, quit and go home.

The 10K Roam Everesting was actually what I had started planning the previous week. It is more my style of biking and also gives one’s body a chance to stretch different muscles as it is just not hill repeats. But it is a longer and harder challenge and the hot temperatures made it seem like a terrible idea.

But quitting seemed like a waste. I was out, I was all suited up, and I had already done all of that climbing. Tina was also on board for supporting me for another 30 hours. So, why the hell not?

This required an entirely new strategy and making many off the cuff decisions that could make or break the attempt. First, Tina would need to take her car home, bike back to my car, and start supporting me by driving it to break spots. The rest of the challenge would also be ridden solo and with significantly more mileage and elevation than originally planned. Let’s be honest, 1am is not when you want to loosely plan a 10K Everesting Roam attempt, but we gave it our best shot.

And so I biked. First up Flagstaff. Then Sunshine. Over to Hygiene. A break at Lyons just as the sun was rising. Next, a lap up to Peak to Peak Hwy. At this point I had been going for over 12 hours and was definitely feeling the lack of sleep. Tina had a work call to take, so we decided I would descend back to Lyons (gotta get that easy mileage) and we would drive home to restock as well as plan the next half of the challenge. 16K feet of elevation gain and 131mi done done by 8am.

At home I started a load of laundry (why not have freshly clean bike clothes?), showered, ate food, and took an all-too-short two hour nap.

By the time we headed out again, it was 3pm and it was sunny and hot. Given the heat, we drove the car up Lefthand Canyon a ways to a dirt pull off at around 6600’. While the sunlight lasted, I figured I could do laps up to Ward and enjoy cooler temperatures and maybe some shade. That worked out rather well and over the course of three and a half hours I added another 5800’ of elevation gain to my total.

However, as the sun began to set, it was getting chilly up there and my body was rejecting the bars, gels, and treats I was still trying to force feed it. The only real option was to head down to town so Tina could fetch a real meal for me to eat with the hopes my body would find that more to its liking.

While she went to find food, I reached Linden Drive (Tina’s Everest hill from 2 weeks ago) and…I barely made it one lap. I genuinely almost got off my bike to take a break halfway up a 1.6 mile climb. It was very disheartening. While my body felt like it still had energy, I was having a hard time pushing the pedals. Tina arrived at the bottom of the hill with food and I told her that there was a very real chance that I might be done.

I sat down and slowly ate a very tasty combination of beans, rice, sauce, and guacamole while thinking my predicament over. I still had 9,000ft left to climb. It was almost 9pm and the sun had already set. There was only 10 hours left for me to complete the challenge. Doable, but it meant another sleepless night with me biking nearly the entire time. And I would definitely need to find a shallower hill. Tina was willing to stay out all night supporting me, but she also had a gravel clinic the next morning and had barely slept as well.

Mentally I was just not on board with what completing the challenge required. So, at 9pm, 26 hours after starting, I officially stopped with 194mi and 23,774' done.

——

Here we are a week later, and I am still not even remotely disappointed. Previous to this Everesting attempt, the longest ride I had ever done was 106 miles. The most elevation I had ever done on a single ride was 16K’ during last year’s Everesting. This was significantly more on both counts. And this had the added fun of extra warm temperatures and only 2 hours of sleep. Not a bad day’s work, honestly.

Also. And Tina reminded me of this afterwards, Everesting is frequently the purview of great and exceptional climbers. While I am a good climber, perhaps even categorizable as strong, I would never say I am great at it. I can put out a fair amount of power but I am also quite heavy, which is a huge detriment on climbs.

Will I try again? Maybe? It is a vexing thing to apply myself towards a goal three times and fail each time. This attempt also felt like a rather poor attempt, all things considered. I know I have the fitness to complete either an Everesting or a 10K Everesting Roam, but it would surely help if it was not attempted during hot summer weather with a plan that did not go belly up at 1am. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

After three weeks of my training plan, I have reached my first recovery week. That means it is time to absorb all of the training that I did by giving my body the time to rebuild and rest. Woo!

And I, for one, am all for it. Last week had me biking for 15.5 hours with 19,000ft of elevation gain. On top of the bike workouts, I also had two separate hour-long core sessions and my daily 20-25 minute walk. It all adds up. By Sunday, I could feel the stress as it took a good 30 minutes for my body to really click into the day's endurance ride. Also, let's not forget that I got my second vaccine shot last Sunday, which knocked me flat for all of Monday. Overall, not a bad week, not bad at all.

Recovery week mostly means I take the first two days off completely and then have three days of easy rides before I start preparing for the next four weeks of training. And that preparation includes an FTP test. Ohhhh boy!

Let's start with the days off. By the end of the weekend (having spent 7 hours climbing in the mountains on Saturday and 30 miles of endurance on Sunday), Garmin was telling me that I needed 3.5 days off to fully recover from my efforts. Given the strain of the weekday workouts, the vaccine shot tanking my energy, and then my "fun" weekend, my body was pretty well wrung dry and hurting a bit. My calves were tight, my quads and hamstrings were sore, and even my chest felt a bit roughed up. Let's not even talk about my caloric needs, since I easily polished off an entire packet of Trader Joe's Speculoo cookies Sunday night.

So, today is Tuesday and my second, completely-off-the-bike day. This morning my resting HR was 48bpm, which while higher than normal is lower than Sunday's. Also, since I had a book at the library, I enjoyed a 4.5 mile round trip walk this morning. When I got home, my watch said my recovery time was down to only 23 hours. Progress.

The next three days only have me biking four hours total and always at a fairly relaxed pace. No hard efforts and no intervals; nothing but endurance riding. That's because Saturday is the FTP test!

No one really gets excited about FTP tests. In all honesty, I have to psych myself up for them. They are meant to push you hard and are used to determine what your training levels will be for the next block of training. After a warmup that gets the legs spun up and ready for some hard efforts, you do 5 mins at the maximum effort you can sustain. It tends to leave one feeling like Rocky at the end of a round–still standing but a little uneasy on the feet. And then, oh then, you switch to 15 minutes of endurance to "recover" before your 20 minute max effort.

That 20 minute max effort tends to leave me gasping over my handlebars, with a faint taste of copper in my mouth and a desire to collapse and moan "medic" at whomever is within earshot. Since I intend to do this test outside–weather permitting–I will complete the ride by ceasing the melodrama and biking my tired ass home.

And the FTP test signifies the end of rest week and the return to training. More and harder intervals, longer endurance rides, and continuing to build up my ability to maintain power when tired. I will be interested if the FTP test shows any improvement in just three weeks. I think I have noticed an ability to climb hills faster and also maintain my power when I am tired...but...it could all be in my head. When it comes to training, data matters.

Exactly two days ago, on Sunday mid-morning, I got my second dose of the Moderna COVID-19 vaccine. Having had multiple friends that had already received their second doze of Pfizer or Moderna, I had a solid idea of the likely symptoms: very sore shoulder where the shot was given, headache overnight, mild fever, trouble sleeping, and a solid chance of overwhelming tiredness.

And yup, that's exactly what I had. The shoulder got more sore as Sunday went on and my sleep on Sunday night was poor. Woke up both chilled and mildly sweating at 1am with one heck of a headache. Dosed myself with ibuprofen and woke up again at 5am with the light fever gone but the headache back and feeling completely drained of energy.

Monday was just weird. My body felt like it had energy but my brain could simply not access it. Even with a cup of coffee and a cup of green tea, my mental energy to do anything was nowhere to be found. Ended up watching a couple movies and taking at least two full naps on the couch before lunch. Tina and I went for a walk in the early afternoon and for the first time in ages, I felt unsteady on my feet. A 25 minute walk required me to come home, have a snack, take more drugs, and pass out for nearly half an hour.

By Monday evening a bit of my energy had returned and I was able to read a handful of the short stories in my current book. But, let's be honest, I was still little better than a lump on the log. Prior to bed I took a long, hot shower and some Tylenol, which helped me sleep through the night until I woke up at 6am.

And I awoke with energy! This morning was sunny and warm after two days of rain, and I felt practically reborn with life. Got up, got going, and while I still felt only around 90% of my normal energy levels, it was such a significant change from Monday morning that it hardly mattered. Go, modern science!

Since I have a Garmin Fenix watch that I wear to bed nearly every night, I got to see some objective data about how the vaccine affected me too. My resting heart rate is usually around 46 beats per minute (bpm). While sleeping Sunday night, post-vaccine, my rest heart rate was 62 beats per minute. My body was definitely stressed and working hard. Tuesday morning it was down to 52 beats per minute, showing that my body was starting to come back from all the energy it had diverted into my immune system.

Garmin also has something called Body Battery that is "a feature that uses a combination of Heart Rate Variability, Stress, and Activity to estimate a user’s energy reserves throughout the day." Even on hard training days, my body battery rarely dips below 40 (out of 100). On Sunday night, my body battery was 26. A solid night of sleep almost always gets my body battery above 80, but on Monday morning it was still at a paltry 40 despite at least 5 hours of sleep. And, crazily, my body battery actually slowly increased over the course of Monday. By the time I went to bed it was at 59 and I woke up with a complete 100. Definitely reflects how I felt my energy levels changing.

––

According to the NY Times, as of today, the COVID-19 virus has killed at least 577,378 people in the United States. And then there are all the individuals who have survived COVID-19, only to have serious, long term health problems. This does not even begin to scratch the surface of how this virus is continuing to cause suffering and death in the world.

There are three different vaccines available in the United States and they are free to everyone. Not a single death has been caused by these vaccines, their effectiveness is even better than forecasted, and the chance of side effects is ludicrously low. I have no hesitancy in recommending this vaccine to anyone. For only a day and a half of discomfort, I am protecting myself and everyone around me. Completely worth it.

More vaccine facts here.

It is nigh impossible to talk about starting a training program without bringing up the new, shiny technology required. Effort needs to be measured, progress needs to be tracked, and pretty graphs must be squinted at. Also, I am a bit of a gear junkie who finds joy in researching things online for hours.

The used 2017 Wahoo Kickr that I purchased at the beginning of winter was my first introduction to the world of tracking power output. For every workout, I could see the precise amount of effort I was expending to climb hills and go fast but also when I was casually cruising. The advantage of tracking power is that it is both more precise than using heart rate and more accurate than riding by feel.

My Kickr did not have the ability to measure cadence, so when I got more experienced with the Zwift workouts and understanding my power output, I also bought a cadence sensor that I attached to my crank arm. Most people implicitly understand that it is easier to spin your pedals on the flats than when you are slowly churning pedals up a steep climb. Power (watts) is torque (force put on the pedal) times rotational speed (cadence), so cadence gives you one more way to evaluate your cycling work. Everyone has their preferred cadence in different situations, but you can also train yourself to use different cadences and use cadence to improve your fitness. In short, it's a handy thing to know when training.

Now, none of my outdoor bikes have a power meter or cadence sensor built in. Before doing my winter workouts on the Kickr, I honestly did not think I would ever really need to care about such things. Even when doing all of that Everesting training last year, I mostly just went out and biked at whatever pace, speed, and grade that I felt like doing that day. And for the most part, that actually work reasonably well. If you want to do long distances, you need to bike longer distances. If you want to do long climbs, you need to bike longer on climbs. Your brain just exploded with that amazing knowledge drop, I know.

But–and the past 10 days with this training plan has really proven it to me–at a certain point you need to buckle down, see where you as a cyclist need to improve, set some goals, and actually focus on improving. In other words, you need to become scientific about your training. And that, my friends, requires data and analysis.

So. Last week I had my very first power meter installed on my road bike. It streams its data over Bluetooth, which means the Wahoo app on my phone was able to receive my power and cadence instantly from my bike. Since I had a phone mount for my bike already, I took my Saturday workout and did it outside.

It definitely had its challenges. The outside world has cars, other cyclists, pedestrians, stop signs, stoplights, and wind from every possible direction. Trying to keep an eye on the world around you while performing a workout based on data displayed on your phone is tricky. Definitely felt myself struggling numerous times and my workout numbers were not exactly what was specified in my training plan. At the same time, I was outside and that is rather preferable to being on a bike trainer in the garage.

The one major hiccup was that the Wahoo app drained my phone battery almost completely dry in 3 hours. Not the ideal situation for someone who frequently does even longer rides. To be fair, our phones are not designed to have their displays continuously on full brightness and streaming data from external devices for hours on end. Enter the bike computer, stage left.

A bike computer is another one of those purchases that I thought I would never make. They are designed for serious cyclists, who are out there training every day and want GPS navigation from their handlebars. And, ladies and gents, lo and behold, that is now the type of cyclist that I am!

Tina was fortunate enough to find a friend in her training group that had an older bike computer to give her. I, on the other hand, fell down the rabbit hole of researching the purchase of a brand new bike computer for the better part of a week. There are many options out there to choose from: super lightweight and aero, those with a touchscreen, those with only buttons, color or grayscale, one based off the Android operating system, and those that have days of battery life. They all have pros and cons, of course, but all of them have the ability to read sensors from your bike and do basic navigation.

In the end, I wanted a bike computer that would last at least 15 hours (2 full days of riding without charging), solid navigation, customizable data screens, easy syncing of my rides, and buttons for when it is wet or in winter. Ideally, I wanted one released in the last couple years and for under $300. Given this was my first foray into bike computers, I also was hoping to pick it up from REI since it has an excellent return policy.

The one that most perfectly fit my needs was the Garmin Edge 530. And once I made my decision, I was able to purchase it at REI the next day and try it out an hour after getting home.

And, it seems to be working out pretty darn well! My watch and power meter connected to it without problem. The mount took all of 2 minutes to install and is exceptionally stable on my handlebar, even on rough gravel. Garmin has a well-earned reputation for having so many features and abilities that one can get overwhelmed, but I found that with a little effort I was able to set it up just how I wanted. And the battery life is exceptional; a two and a half hour ride this week only reduced the battery 8%. Rarely am I so pleased with a purchase.

Doing workouts outside will still be challenging, but I feel like I am now set up for success. And since I am training for gravel races, I am considering adding a power meter to my gravel bike as well. And, while these workouts are definitely challenging, it is obvious they are focusing on my weaknesses and making me stronger. So far, so good.

Around the middle of October, Tina and I acquired two Wahoo Kickrs thanks to our local bike shop, Boulder Bicycle Works, having a couple used ones to sell. While they were definitely a couple years old and well loved, they were only 40% the cost of new machines. Since COVID was still raging and snow storms here can be a bit intense, it seemed a wise choice to have a way to exercise throughout the winter.

This led us to doing our first FTP tests, completing all of the Zwift Academy workouts, and even participating in a Zwift races. As the rabbit hole deepened, Tina signed up for Basecamp, an online winter cycling training program, for three months and dedicated herself to not only keeping her biking fitness but improving it.

Challenge-focused individual that I am, I focused primarily on things like the Thanksgiving Groad, the Rapha Festive 500, and doing 350 miles in a single week. Yes, I still spent time on the trainer–mostly attempting to improve my climbing abilities–but I was not nearly as dedicated as Tina.

My outdoor fun over the winter convinced me that I was finally willing to invest in a dedicated gravel bike. While my lovely carbon road bike can handle quite a bit, after a particularly rough ride that left a couple decent scrapes in its frame, I decided it was time to stop beating it up and get a real gravel bike. So, on my birthday I got a Giant Revolt. It's pretty darn spiffy.

If this blog post has a point, it is that escalation is a very real thing in biking. I came to Boulder with an 11 year old aluminum bike, and 18 months later I now own four bikes and easily spend 12-18 hours a week riding. Crazy.

What's even crazier is that for the first time in my life, I have signed up for a bike race! Oh, but not just a single bike race. No siree! I am currently signed up for three different gravel races in 2021. And some seriously challenging ones too:

• Ned Gravel, July 31st, Tungsten route: 66 miles and 8,200’ of climbing.
• Rebecca's Private Idaho, Sept 5th, Baked Potato route: 102 miles and 5,295' of climbing.
• Desert Gravel's Rexy, Oct 30th: 208 miles and 11,400′ of climbing.

Is "audacious" the right world? Seems like it might be.

An FTP test last weekend showed that I not only kept my fitness over the winter but actually got a smidgen stronger since last October. And I did a 350 mile week at the beginning of March, so the distances are not too worrisome. Gravel riding over long distances is more jarring and exhausting, but a recent gravel-filled weekend makes me think it is manageable with the right tire size and additional training.

However. Part of me would like to do really well in these races. And, I would definitely like to be so fit that finishing (barring a mechanical problem) is a foregone conclusion.

And so, I have started my first structured training program. It is an 8-week plan written by one of the leaders of her Basecamp group and is meant to improve my strength, resiliency, and ensure I can survive a long, hard day in the saddle.

I am only four days into it and boy oh boy has it already given me a couple decent workouts. Today is a rest day with a relaxing one hour ride before a delightfully hard weekend of climbing and endurance riding, and I very much need this recovery day. Many of the more structured workouts will probably be done on my Wahoo Kickr, but I just bought my first power meter to allow workouts to be performed outside too.

Feels a bit weird to take exercise this seriously, but with races on the calendar and a partner who is kicking ass with her own cycling, I thought it was time to up my own game a bit.

Mr. Bubbles: And things have indeed gone wrong.

Tina has informed me that I cannot read her blog entry about my second Everesting attempt until I finish writing my own and post it. So, here I am, almost two weeks later, reminiscing about yet another failure. Oh, yippee.

Let’s see. What to say, what to say.

It started early. 2:54am to be exact. It was cold. Mid-40s is my best guess. And it only got chillier as the night went on, thanks to the clear night sky. Obviously, that meant layers. Thermal tights, cold weather biking jacket, a light puffy jacket, long fingered gloves, wool skull cap, buff, and shoe covers. Hot coffee in an insulated thermos, naturally.

Cold weather plus climbing is tricky. Roughly 1600 feet of climbing every hour with an equal amount of descent. Makes it challenging to balance between staying warm and not sweating so much that you get chilled on the fast descent. This meant a fair amount of zipping and unzipping with a regular rotation into dry gloves

The first quarter (12 laps, 7300 ft) went fine. It was chilly but I did a short warm up beforehand and kept myself well fueled with bars and cookie dough. I had plenty of bike lights and the road had virtually no traffic. No animals rushed in front of me this time and while there was some wind, it was not a significant hindrance.

All that being said, it was really nice when the sun rose. Layers came off and my cold feet warmed up in no time. The canyon above Jamestown stayed fairly cool and you could definitely smell autumn in the air. A small amount of leaves had already dropped and a few, eager deciduous trees were already changing colors.

Part of me was a little disappointed that this was not a normal bike ride up in the foothills as it was idyllic in both weather and ambiance.

Around 11am Tina returned and joined me for lap 23 with approximately 13K feet of elevation gain already in the bank. And by noon, I was halfway done. All according to plan.

It sounds good on paper, but in reality it felt less than superb. When I started my first Everesting attempt, I felt strong. My energy levels were good and finishing felt not only possible but almost inevitable. Not sure what was going on with this ride, but I simply never clicked into a good place mentally or physically. I was tired from the start.

Maybe it was the wildfires pumping smoke into the air for weeks beforehand or the consistently hot temperatures in Boulder during August or the stress and exhaustion from working while the entire country seems to be falling apart, but even the first lap felt like effort. You know those rides: you’re there and you’re going to do the time, but it’s going to be a struggle.

And then that damn, stupid leg started hurting again. I cannot emphasize how frustrating it was during the first attempt when it got so painful that I ended up limping for almost a week afterwards. You do months and months of training with literally 100s of thousands of elevation gain, and then on Game Day it decides it wants to break down.

The month between this attempt and the last attempt I really worked on rehabilitating it. Hot baths, massages, stretching, and gradually ramping up to more and more climbing. When Tina did her Everest and I ended up doing 10K of elevation gain with no pain, it seemed like I had recovered sufficiently to try again.

Nope. It started getting unhappy again around 12K of elevation gain. I had modified my segment to take off the steepest section to improve my chances, but by the halfway point it had become a serious concern again. I was getting out of my seat frequently to help stretch it out and reduce the repetitiveness, but that had the consequence of using up more and more of my precious energy.

Somewhere around 15.5K feet of elevation gain, I started feeling pain in my knee again. At 16.5K I was so exhausted from trying to do anything and everything to reduce the discomfort and growing pain that I just threw in the towel. The pain was less sharp than last time, but even so I found walking unpleasant for days afterward.

Blargh. Over 11 hours. All of that biking and no Everest. Again.

Suffice to say, I am not trying again this year. It took me nearly two weeks of recovery to handle today’s Ward ride and I simply cannot fathom losing two more weeks to tapering, especially when the weather is even further against me in October. Nope. Back to fun, shorter, challenging rides in the hills until the snow returns.

I am thinking about getting a Wahoo KICKR to prepare for next year though…

It has been four weeks since my first Everesting attempt. That attempt ended when an already sore quad was combined with cold temperatures and eight hours of biking to result in serious knee pain. It was extremely disappointing to prepare everything, get over 13K of elevation gain, and then have to quit at 3am because I rushed a bit into my first attempt because of weather concerns.

I spent a few days off the biking completely and also drugged myself with ibuprofen to get the leg and knee less cranky. I eased into some slow, short rides and after a couple weeks was back up to moderate training rides. When I pulled off a SuperJames + Ward ride, I felt I was ready to start considering another attempt.

Last weekend the conditions aligned and Tina made her Everesting attempt on Monday. Despite a couple hours of chilly rain at the end, the majority of her ride went pretty darn smoothly. I actually considered joining her so we could Everest together, but I decided that being her support crew was more important. Many things can go wrong during an Everesting but some of those are addressable with a support crew, so it made sense to have that as my focus. Even still, I joined her for 10K feet of climbing. The leg and knee were a bit sore afterwards but overall they held up without much complaint.

With Tina’s Everesting a success, it was time to start considering my own. Labor Day seemed like a reasonable day to make an attempt. I already had it off from work and it gave me roughly a week to taper.

On Friday, I drove up to Jamestown and did a subsection of my segment twice. My original segment had a third of a mile of 11-14% grade at the end and I am fairly sure that was the root cause of my knee pain. Doing that manner of grade repeatedly in the middle of the night with a sore quad is not relaxing. With my leg still not completely healed, I wanted to consider a segment without that stressful bit at the end. It means an increase in the number of laps to reach 29,029’ but a far kinder grade for my knee.

So, here we are on Sunday afternoon. And, Monday is off the table. A winter storm system is supposed to arrive tomorrow night with snowfall predicted for Tuesday. Preceding the storm, Jamestown is forecasted to have 20-30mph wind gusts starting at noon Monday and lasting for four hours. Not a deal breaker but not exactly encouraging with my leg at less than 100%.

No, what has killed this attempt is our heat wave for the past few days with high temps in the upper 90s and low 100s. Combined with some wind, the forest fires nearby have flared up and smoke has filled the skies of Boulder. We stepped outside 30 minutes ago and the smell of smoke is strong. As I look out the window right now, the mountains are no longer visible.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

With the shorter days and the nighttime temperatures lowering into the 40s, my window for successfully Everesting this year is quickly disappearing. I also do not wish to lose fun, autumn bike ride for this project. There are other routes I want to do before the weather changes. We shall see what next weekend brings. I may give it two more weeks and then call it for this year.

Last Monday, at approximately 10:30pm, Tina completed her first Everesting. I provided support throughout the day (3am-11pm) by refilling water bottles, organizing gear, and making sure she never forgot to take a snack. That last one is a fairly easy mistake to make over the course of 19 hours of biking and one that can be a critical mistake given how on top you need to be of your food + hydration.

Her entries are pretty thorough, and I do not feel I need to add much, except a couple of points of emphasis.

1. It was rather cold in the beginning. In the wee hours, I was working on my computer at the base of the hill and I was wearing a jacket, a winter hat, and wrapped in a blanket…and I was still chilly.
2. I still ended up pulling off just over four hours of work and 10,400ft of climbing on Monday. Living the dream.
3. She had a pretty fantastic day for her ride, I am quite envious. The air stayed rather cool and the sun never reached an unbearable level. If it was not for the fact that Sunshine gets a fair amount of vehicular travel, it would have been practically ideal conditions
4. Except for the last two hours when a cool rain completely soaked us for the last four laps. That was demoralizing. I am so happy that I brought my rain jacket and a towel. Neither of which I expected to use, but without them I would not have been able to do the last few laps with her.

As last weekend started, the forecast was shifting so that the weather for Wednesday morning in Jamestown was looking less promising for an Everest attempt. Where it had previously been forecasted as partly cloudy with a high in the mid-70s, now it was forecasted to be sunny and in the mid-80s. Given my previous experience during my Half Everest with those same conditions, I knew that was not what I was looking for. I simply do not respond well to hours and hours of climbing in that kind of heat and exposure.

Always optimistic, I decided to hold off on a decision until Sunday morning. That morning I pulled up the forecast and if anything it was going to be even warmer than the forecast we read on Friday night. Well. Shit.

Tina pointed out that the forecast for Sunday night and Monday morning was not bad though. Boulder on Sunday afternoon was going to get into the upper 90s, but the clear skies overnight and the higher elevation of Jamestown meant that my segment’s low temperature was going to reach the low-50s overnight. Rather pleasant for hours of climbing by bicycle. Not only that, the forecast predicted that at noon on Monday, Jamestown was only going to be 73 degrees. Since I was aiming to finish by early afternoon that seemed fairly ideal.

The only problem is that I had been exercising with the expectation that I would not be Everesting for at least three more days. While Saturday morning’s ride had been a moderate effort, the previous week’s rides had been hard with significant personal records (PRs) achieved. As I stood at the kitchen sink staring at the mountains and contemplating my options, my left quad felt sore and tired. Nothing bad but definitely noticeable.

Also, I had absolutely nothing prepared for a possible 17-18 hours of biking that night. Food would need to be acquired, at least one huge bag of ice, gallon containers for water, a few spare tubes, numerous bike lights charged, and then all organized to be findable and accessible in the middle of night. Not an insurmountable problem by any means, but an unexpected bunch of tasks with no time to dawdle.

What really pushed me towards trying Sunday night was the fact that the weather forecast for the rest of the week was rubbish. Hot and clear every single day. Not only that, there was a major wildfire blazing to our east and while we had woken up to smoke and haze on Saturday, Sunday was blessedly clear. There was no guarantee that would last. This was my only realistic chance for the rest of the week. So, I started getting ready.

Almost immediately I started charging my various bike lights. A full night of biking on a mountain road was going to require every single one I owned. Also, all of my bike clothing was in the laundry, so that needed to be started so it could dry before I packed. Then, I pulled out a stick of butter to warm up, so I could make oatmeal chocolate cookie dough, one of my favorite ultra-distance foods. Finally, we took trips to Walgreens, a bike shop, REI, and Whole Foods to get all the food and gear that I might need for such an effort. Given I had gotten two punctures in my rear tire during a ride at the end of July, I did not want my Everest to fail because of a lack of spare tubes. All of these things I had originally planned to do over a leisurely Monday but now the deadline was dramatically moved up.

My gear list ended up being nearly 100 items long. Long sleeve bike shirt, short sleeve bike shirt, bike shorts, multiple pairs of gloves, socks, buffs, lightweight rain jacket, puffy jacket for the car, bike shoes, towel, clear and regular sunglasses, five different bike lights, spare tubes, tire levers, bike tool, chamois cream, lip balm, sunscreen, first aid kit, cleaning towelettes (salt chafing is real), headlamps, GoalZero battery, charger cables for watch/phone/lights, WagBags, paper towels, WD40, chain oil, masks, hand sanitizer, and two shopping bags full of bars, gels, and real food. Let’s not forget the large cooler full of iced coffee, vegan protein shake, iced tea, gallons of water, water bottles with Tailwind, cookie dough, bananas, apple, and sliced meat and cheese. Probably had three times as much food as I needed but you never really know what your body will crave or reject on these kind of rides, so it is helpful to have many options.

After an early pasta dinner and catnap, we packed up the cars around 6pm and headed up to Jamestown with the goal of me starting my ride at 7pm. Reasonably quiet roads and cool temps would be my friend, while a lack of sleep and the potential for animals being on the road during my speedy nighttime descents being real challenges. Tina was intending on sleeping in the car and being my support crew. Since each full lap would take me just under 30 minutes, my approach was to stop by the cars every third lap for a fresh water bottle and snack. During those short breaks at the car I would also switch out bike lights, pump up tires, and use the bathroom when necessary.

It all started reasonably well. The sun was just starting to set behind the mountains and the temperature was just over 70 degrees with little wind and only a hint of humidity in the air. In fact, even though I was trying to be mindful of my speed and set a slow pace, I ended up getting a rather fast PR on my very first lap. Whoops!

As you imagine, you settle into a bit of a routine when doing this many laps on a well known segment of road. You know where you are going to shift gears, where you are going to get out of your seat to stretch your legs, the best spots to take a few sips of water, where you need to slow down as you come into town to avoid hitting the speed bump too fast, and what section of road is just going to be a bit rough on the legs no matter how many times you do it. At the top of every lap, I would take a full drink of water, pull out a black marker to tally the most recently completely climb on a piece of white tape, and then take a bite of whatever food I happened to have in my left back pocket. This mental rhythm really helps.

After my third lap, I came in for my first break and put on my bike lights. It was getting dark enough that I wanted to see and be seen by the 3 or 4 vehicles that sped by me on every lap. And then I went and did my next three laps. Took a break. And then three more laps. Took a break.

At this point, nine laps in, I was a quarter of the way done with my Everest attempt. And I felt pretty darn good. Hydration was going well. The cookie dough was by far my favorite snack whenever I visited the car. And, while I was definitely feeling the effort and late hour, a few sips of coffee definitely helped. There was a bit of a headwind on the last half of the climb but it was manageable. So, I started heading up for my tenth lap.

At the top of the tenth lap, I turned up the brightness of my front light to have the most possible light for the downhill…and it turned off. Oh shoot, I thought, must have held the button too long and turned it off. Nope. The light had died. Here I am, at the top of my climb, on a moonless night, needing to descend, and I had no front light. Fucking. Hell.

When we did the Mt. Hood Picnic last year, I had put both front lights on my handlebars and just switched to the fresh one when the other was getting low. This time, since I had my phone on my handlebars, I had only one front light and had left the second one at the car with the intention to switch it when the first one started becoming dim. Was not expecting the light to fail completely. Guess that is why its button blinked at me a ways back: 15 minute warning.

Thankfully, I had sprung for the fancier back lights, which could be used as either a white front light or red rear light with the push of a button. Otherwise, I would have been rather screwed. Even so, I descended about 10-15mph slower than usual as it provided significantly less visibility than my dedicated front lights. Arrived back at the car, surprising Tina, and put on a new front light. And just to be safe, I put one of my headlamps and a spare rear light in my backpack. Not going to make that mistake again. Way too dangerous.

Did two more climbs and then on my last descent before heading back to the car (lap 12), I spooked a coyote that ran in front of my bike for about 20 meters while I was rapidly descending, requiring a fairly significant amount of breaking and a rear wheel that wiggled a heart skipping amount. Sure you worry about the large, black trucks speeding up and down mountain roads and the oblivious deer or two, but damn that coyote was the real danger that night.

Oh, I may not have mentioned, I have absolutely no cell service on this segment. Not a single bar. 😟

Got back to the car and told Tina about my little Close Encounter of the Canis Kind. Still alive though. And already over 10,000 feet of elevation gain. A third of the way done. Bit of a problem though and one whose significance will grow. My left leg, the one that I noticed was tight and sore that morning? It had definitely warmed up and felt solid for the first 12 laps or so, but now my leg was feeling the climbing. I moved the leg up and around and did some knee hugs hoping it would shake out. Took two extra strength Tylenol as well.

Over the next three laps my left leg got tighter and started causing outside knee pain. Tried to get out of my saddle more to help stretch it out, which only helped a minuscule amount. At the top of my second and third laps, I actually got off my bike and tried various stretches to help it relax and loosen up. Unfortunately, it did not seem to be helping near enough, as the knee pain never went away and got worse on the steeper bits of climbing.

At my next break, I told Tina about my issue and that I was going to try to see how it felt after the next three laps, as it definitely looked like my attempt was going to end if it did not improve. Went to the bathroom, did a few more leg movements, and a bit of stretching before heading off. Around halfway up, I decided to turn around and call it. On a relatively shallow grade (4-5%), I actually started saying “Ow, ow, ow” out loud to myself because of the pain. Damage was being done and another eight hours of biking was not going to help it go away.

A quick descent back to the car and at 3:07am, my Everest attempt ended.

We packed everything up, drove home, and emptied the cars. By about 4:30am I was back in bed with a few ibuprofen in me for the pain and I did not wake up again until just past 10am.

So. I ended up doing just over 13,000 ft of elevation gain on that ride in about eight hours. Except for the leg/knee, I felt pretty damn good and I definitely had the energy and fitness to finish it. That damn leg though.

Four days later and it is obvious I made the right decision to quit my attempt. The next two days both my leg and knee were painful, and I did not even want to do a short walk around the neighborhood. But with a hot soak, stretching, and massaging the leg muscles have started recovering with the knee pain slowly disappearing. Did a 30 minute easy bike ride this morning and it felt ok. Now I just have to get it back in full working order so I can try again. Maybe in two weeks or so.

A few important lessons learned on this attempt.

• Always carry backup lights at night
• Bring more than five large spoonfuls of cookie dough
• If you start with a sore/tired leg, then it is probable that attempting 30K feet of climbing in a single ride will make it worse and you may need to choose a different day.
• Wear a cool weather biking jacket and/or light pants at night. At 52 degrees, a 40mph descent after a sweaty climb will chill you and your muscles; it may have contributed to the leg tightness issues.