my weekend, among other things

First off, totally spaced on Free Music Friday last week. I had a doctor appt in the afternoon, and was rushing in the morning to get everything finished up before I left work. So, I've put my FMF links from last week at the end of this post--call it Music Monday, if you want. :)

UPDATE: Links gone.

Also in the extended entry:

-How I Spent $800 in less than 4 hours, and have nothing to show for it
-Milestones
-Century Recap

Spending More for Less

As I mentioned before, I reached such a level of frustration with our clutter problem that I called a junk service to come pick up our stuff. Despite having eight days and the best of intentions, I only really started sorting the junk somewhere around...oh, Friday night. We did a little bit of book sorting on Wednesday, but didn't really move anything heavy until the last possible minute. I'm a born procrastinator. I don't know why I thought this would be any different than any other major project I've undertaken...hope springs eternal, I guess.

There was some drama on Saturday morning, when the guys called and said they would be arriving early. I was still at my club ride (I had 2 riders this week! Yay!), so I hopped in the van and drove home as fast as I could. I made it in plenty of time, as the truck didn't come until close to the scheduled time (11:00-2:00).

By the shocked looks on their faces (and the muttered, "think happy thoughts" one of them thought I didn't hear), I don't think they were expecting the sheer volume of crap they were faced with. I wasn't expecting the smallness of their truck, so we were all a little concerned. After getting over the initial shock, they assured me that they could fit most of our junk in the truck. They proceeded to quote me a price so high that I nearly passed out, but not so high that I would send them away empty. They were there, and I wanted it gone. Spare no expense.

I agreed to the price, and they loaded our crap on their truck very efficiently. In about 30 minutes, a few years' worth of accumulated clutter was swept away. I felt 100% better. It may have cost all of my discretionary income for the next 4 months, but it was worth it. (Well, NEARLY worth it. It still pains me a little.)

Giddy from all the garage space and their early arrival, I set off to pick up my ride packet at the bike shop across town. About 2 miles from my destination, I looked down at the clock in the car, then at my cell phone. The display said "1:00 Eye Appt" OH MY GOD. It was 12:49, and I was halfway across town.

How could I have forgotten?! I was looking forward to the appointment, because I've been meaning to get prescription sunglasses for cycling. They called to remind me about it Friday, I had filled out medical history forms online for it, I had even set a fucking reminder on my cell phone for 12:30 (I was in Starbucks when it went off). I am the world's biggest flake.

I called the office, explained my situation, and they said to come over anyway. I made it about 30 minutes late, apologizing profusely. They were very nice about it, and I was in to see the doctor in no time. My prescription changed a little (I thought so--I've been cleaning my glasses more lately, which is usually a sign that things are starting to get fuzzy), so I ended up buying glasses AND sunglasses. After ordering everything, I walked out empty-handed and a few hundred dollars poorer.

So between the junk pickup and the eyewear, I spent about $800, and won't have anything to show for it until Friday, at least. Sigh.

Some July Milestones

Wednesday, my youngest brother will celebrate his first birthday. Happy birthday, Ben...wish I could be there!

On Thursday, Amelia will have her first birthday. I'm hoping that she'll have somewhere around 2200 miles on the odometer by then. I'm just two commutes away...

Today--almost exactly now, in fact--it will be 22 years since the first time my life fell apart (I really need to do something with that site--at least get the pictures working again). My mom passed away on July 17, 1984...12 days before her 35th birthday. I'm only 2 years younger than she was then, and my son's just about the age my oldest brother was at the time. I look at Noah, at how much he still needs me, and I can't imagine how agonizing it must have been for her to leave the four of us behind. I think of her less as time goes on, but I miss her as much as ever.

Ain't Too Proud to SAG

As you may have guessed from the title (which I shamelessly stole from a TE forum post a while back), I didn't finish the century.

I started out pretty well. Since they had started the ride in waves of 100-200 riders, I didn't get past the start line until 7:30 or so. I was following my plan, fighting the urge to keep up with the faster riders. I was averaging about 16-17 mph, heart rate staying comfortably in the 130s. To make up for the late start, I skipped the first rest stop at 13 miles, and stayed at a comfortable pace until the second stop (23 mi). I was having some issues with my water bottle...I bought a new kind the day before the race, and hadn't really gotten the hang of the bite valve. Before I parked at the rest stop, I had only made it through about 1/4 of the 24 oz. bottle. I drank the rest of it at the rest stop, refilled it with ice and water, and switched its position to the back cage, moving the standard bottle to the front. I also ate some fruit and trail mix, and sat in the shade to call Rob. At this point, all was well...my legs felt fine, my HR was staying in the high 130s-low 140s, the roads were hot but smooth. I hit the portajohn and got back on the bike after about 5 minutes. When I reached the decision point turn-off between the 60 and 100-mile routes, I confidently chose the 100.

About 10 minutes later, I hit some of the worst pavement in the history of the universe. It was one of those roads--I'm not sure what the technical term is, I think possibly "chip-seal". You know, where "pavement" = "a bunch of pebbles held together with tar and maybe smoothed with a paint roller". As if that weren't bad enough, this was also an old road in a rural area. There were some places where it was more patch than pavement. Sometimes, it was actually nice, because the patch material was generally smoother than the road. Finding the best line was a chore, though, and it was shaking poor Amelia to pieces. Navigating the rough pavement took its toll on me, too--by the time I hit the 3rd rest stop, it was all I could do to my HR out of the 160s. Conversely, my average speed had gone from 14.9 mph for the 1st hour, to 14.7 for the 2nd hour, down to 14.4 at the rest stop. I was working harder to go slower, basically.

The rough pavement continued, off and on, through mile 45 or so. At the 44-mile rest stop (which I was praying to see from about mile 38 onward), I was down to 14.2 mph and fighting to stay out of the 170s. The time was 10:48, and the temperature was well above 90 degrees. The route had very little shade, and the road was starting to get those wavy heat lines coming up from it. Somewhere around mile 45, a buzzard came out of the woods to look at me. Since I was alone on the road, I yelled at him, "You're too early! I'm good for at least another 10 miles!"

By mile 48, I had given up on staying out of the 170s, concentrating instead on trying not to get eaten by the HUGE DOG that was running alongside me. As it turned out, he just wanted to race...he didn't even bark, just kept pace for a little while and then cut in front, circling back to his yard. (Yes, he won.)

By mile 50, I knew I was in trouble. I couldn't get over 13.5 mph or under 170 bpm to save my life, and I was starting to get chills. When I got to the I-10 overpass, I nearly wept at the thought of that little incline. (I think I know now how Noah felt in Austin.) I'm pretty sure I hit my max HR there, but I was too intent on staying upright on the coast down the other side to check to see what it was. :)

What seemed like hours later(actual time: about 10 minutes), I finally arrived at the 54-mile rest stop. It was almost noon, over 95 degrees, my heart rate would not come down out of the high 170s, and my average speed for the ride was down to 14.1 mph. As I coasted into the parking lot, I assessed my situation:

1. I had been on the road over 4 hours.
2. I was losing speed at an average of .1-.2 mph.
3. My HR was climbing at a rate of about 10 bpm/hr.
4. The temperature would not peak for another 2 hours, at least.
5. I had covered just over half of the total distance, with 13 miles between me and the 2 pm shutdown at mile 67.

Factoring all these things together, my addled (and now achy) brain figured that I could probably make it to the 67-mile stop before 2 pm, but I'd be going barely 13 mph, my HR would be redlining up in the 190s, and the road would feel hotter than the 7th pit of hell. The rest stop volunteer greeted me as I rode in, "So, how are you doing?"

"Not so good...I think I'm gonna SAG it from here."
"You've made it 54 miles!"
"Yeah, but I'm starting to get chills. I'm pretty sure that's not healthy."
"No, that's not healthy."

I walked over to the nearest shaded bench, dismounted, and finished off a water bottle before calling Rob. I gave him the condensed version, and he was nice about it. On his direction, I filled my water bottle again, ate some fruit and pretzels, and tried not to move. The greeter volunteer came over and told me that a SAG truck was on the way, so he would flag him down for me.

While I waited, I watched my HR monitor. My seated HR was now down to around 115-120 bpm, which was okay. However, I noticed that shortly after I moved my arm to check my watch, it jumped to 135. I stood up--145. I sat down--138. Arm out to the right--147. Walk to the food table and back--163! Yep, definitely time to throw in the towel.

The truck arrived, and the SAG volunteer was very nice. He loaded my bike on top and gave me some bottled water and ice. While he was doing that, we were joined by a girl on a mountain bike with a knee problem. He loaded her bike, and we all piled into the truck to pick up someone waiting at rest stop #6. After loading 4 more road bikes and a tandem, we were full--4 women in the air-conditioned cab with the driver, 2 men in the back with the bikes. (The tandem riders rode in a different truck.) I was starting to feel better, both mentally and physically. The riders we picked up at #6 were all in the same situation I was--overheated and maybe dehydrated. The heat got the best of all of us, and I didn't feel nearly as wussified now that I was not the only one quitting. We chatted, passed the time, compared stats, and a short and pleasant ride later, we were back at the start. Because my bike was in the middle on the roof rack, it was the last one off. The driver commented, "First one in, last one off...sorry to keep you waiting."

"Well, considering that it would have taken me another 4 hours to finish the course, I don't mind waiting. I'm just glad you were there."

He laughed, "Yeah, I guess that's true. What's another minute, right?"

"Yep, I'm actually ahead of schedule--take your time!"

He handed me my bike, I thanked him again, then rode (sloooooowly) over to my van. I loaded the bike, changed clothes, called home, then drove back to the house.

I stopped for a burger on the way home. Even though I didn't finish the ride, I totally earned it.

Music!

If you made it this far, I salute you! (Even if you just scrolled--that thar's a long way down.) Today's music is brought to you by the letters H & I.

Texas Women - Hank Williams, Jr.

Oh, Goddamnit - Hot Hot Heat

Closer to Fine - Indigo Girls

Each Coming Night - Iron & Wine

Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World - Iz

Right-click, save-as, enjoy!