Door County was all that and a bag of chips. The weather was beautiful, to spite a forecast of thundershowers, not overly warm, which is perfect for riding. And, I had a chance to wear my new arm warmer/shrug thing.
Prairies, wooded areas, farms, sailboats, and shorelines mark the landscape on the peninsula. Illustrating this entry with photographs would be lovely, but I don’t have any pics. I brought my camera with me but left it in the hotel room. This has to be a first since I tend to document the heck out of every place I travel. But, we were in Door County to complete a century, meaning that our priority was riding bikes. And, my handlebar bag—containing windbreaker, inner tubes, compact emergency tool kit, ClifBars, lip balm, sunglasses, bandana, cell phone, Chamois Butter—was very, very heavy and full and the camera didn’t fit. And, yes, I needed all that stuff. I guess it may be time for a better camera on my phone.
DCC had four different distances to choose from—30, 60, 78, and 100. I set out to ride 100 miles, which I has been a goal since completing RAGBRAI (70 miles a day for seven days) in 2005. In May, I started riding ten to fifteen miles (an hour to an hour-twenty minutes), three to four times a week. I wouldn’t call that sort of riding training. By any means. I could have done with at least one twenty- to thirty-mile ride a week. About forty-four miles into the Door County ride, I was toast, and it became clear I wouldn’t be riding 100 miles. And I was okay with that.
The Door County route was gently rolling and really pleasant, but occasionally a short, steep hill would present itself, with no notice. I avoid hills at all cost, normally, so these really took the wind out of my sails, if I may borrow a sports metaphor. And the voices in my head started chattering about how I'm not in as good shape for a ride like this as I thought I was. Once they start, well...it gets really, really ugly.
My quads were screaming. And then all my cycling mojo left me. My lower back was quietly spasming, my shoulders and neck were crunchy, the balls of my feet and my hands were numb (actually preferable when the extremities merely hurt), my saddle was post-delivery tender (I’d forgotten how horrible this feels because I hadn’t done more than thirty miles in one sitting this year).
At the end of my ride, I’d put 61.5 miles on my cyclometer, which is this longest single-day ride I’d done since the last day of RAGBRAI in 2005. Not shabby. I will finish a century at some point, even if it takes a year of training. Next September: the Headwaters 100. Anyone want to join me?
The Door County Century marked the beginning of my fall training. Kicking off with 61.5 miles certainly helps the personal motivation. I’m still a tad bit sore today, but not too sore to spin the wheels so I did an easy ten-mile ride up to the Cathedral and back, stopping to vote on my way home.
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