I am happy to say that I totally CRUSHED the Short Spunky Girl From Caratunk Division of the Fat Cyclist's 100 Miles to Nowhere.
What is the 100 Miles to Nowhere? Well it is a race hosted by one of my favorite bloggers, The Fat Cyclist, who asked his readers to join him to ride a trainer, rollers, or on a small outside course for 100 miles to raise money for the Lance Armstrong Foundation. This is a race without a place, an event where hundreds of people participate all by themselves.
It sounded really dreadful. When I read about it I thought, man Fatty, that is insane.
Then I made a mistake. I mentioned it to a friend and she said, "You couldn't do that Mandy. Seriously? You can't even sit and watch TV for half an hour."
So, of course, I signed up.
Well, I showed her.
Race Report - 100 miles - 8.5 hours
First, let me show you the delightful view I had. It was gorgeous.
Actually, I made a mistake. I decided I would do an hour and a half of Spinnervals with Coach Troy to get a "jump on the mileage". For future reference, it is a really bad idea to do an hour and a half of Spinnervals at the start of, or in any part of a 100 mile trainer ride. Not that any of you are crazy enough to attempt something like that. I don't think it gives you a jump in mileage. It just makes the next hour and a half really hard.
I am also pretty sure my bike computer isn't calibrated correctly, because those miles really crawled by.
After the Spinnervals debacle, I then watched The Distance: A Triathlete's Journey, The Illusionist, Tombstone, and The Hangover. It was a big day.
What can I tell you about the race? When writing a race report, I enjoy to talk about the people I meet, the course, and how well the course was organized (this was the best organized race I have ever been to for the record. "They" did a great job of managing the crowds.)
It was hard, but not so much because of effort, but because of the mind-numbing mental challenge of sitting there for so long and literally going nowhere.
After this race, I can now tell you a lot about 3 Wisconsin Ironman hopefulls, Edward Norton as a love-struck magician, how I think Val Kilmer was the best Doc Holiday EVER! (I got two guns, one for each of ya), and about a bunch of guys getting drunk in Vegas and try to remember what happened (Whose Fing Baby is that? I don't know, check it's collar).
I am also now questioning the intelligence of riding that far on a trainer the same week as I am running a marathon. With an injury. Just saying, it might have been a bonehead move.
I am not going to lie, I took a few breaks. I think that the first 50 miles didn't bother me as much as the last 50 miles. I was ready to send my bike computer back somewhere around mile 60. Really, I thought, it had to be malfunctioning. I slept on the couch for a bit after mile 70. I ate a bag of Milano Cookies around mile 75. Yup, and entire bag. Wished I had another bag at mile 85. I looked for that bag for a while, then went back upstairs. I started looking for excuses to do something else as I got closer to the end. But I finally finished, and as I said, it took me about 8.5 hours. I blame the cookies on the time. Or the bike computer. Or the nap.
I will close with these awesome race day photos. I think it shows the degrading of my psyche fairly accurately. Full disclosure - all of these were taken at the end of the ride, so I was in all likelihood delusional.
See you guys here next year?