I’ll stop later to consider why we really do this stuff — superficial analysis suggests it’s because it make great storytelling later — but the ride tomorrow is on (meaning: I’m riding; the event, with 75 riders signed up, would obviously go on without me).
In the meantime: No reprieve from the forecasters or their all powerful weather models. The probability of measurable precipitation in the area we’ll be riding in the morning is 90 percent. At some point, when those in charge of interpreting all the weather data realize their models are actually a reflection of reality, they seem to relax and shift their predictions from “chance of rain” or “rain likely” to “the hose will be on full force; don’t even think anything else can happen.” Besides the rain, which is an interesting element in which to ride, there will be wind. Maybe 30 or 40 mph gusts on the coast. Parts of the route, I know already, are going to be a slog.
Time to stop talking about it and go to bed so I can rest up a little for it.
Just so long as there’s no snow in San Anselmo.
So at 11:24 p.m. you were signing off in order to get some sleep before your 200KM ride. Which started at 7 a.m., meaning you had to be out the door at 5:30 a.m., meaning you were probably up at, what, 4:30? You knucklehead!
Then again, as we’ve discussed, who ever gets good sleep the night before a big ride or race? I don’t think I’ve ever snoozed more than four or five hours the night before my Half Vineman races or any of the marathons I’ve done. Wonder what it would feel like to get eight hours sleep before a race. (Wonder what it would feel like to ever get eight hours sleep…)
Yeah, I think I proved myself a knucklehead twice over, at least.
But that’s not the issue. It seems like there’s always something that rises up to become a Major Concern before an “event”: If it’s not concern over whether you can really do it, it’s how well you’ll do or how much you’re going to struggle with some element — the course, the weather, your desire to improve on your time, the list is endless. For me, the big concern was the rain — common sense would dictate that you stay in where it’s nice and dry; hours and hours of water probably aren’t the best prescription for rider or bike. On the other hand, there’s equipment out there that can help you cope; for cycling, that means rainwear and fenders. I’m OK on the rainwear side, but only have clip-on fenders. I didn’t think they’d stay on the bike all 125 miles, and I envision them getting caught in the wheels or getting thrown out of alignment or something and causing a crash. Whatever. (Turns out they worked fine, and they made a difference in keeping the road water off me).
What with my concern about riding in that weather — I even started to envision the problems cars might have seeing me if it was really windy and rainy — I got the normal pre-ride lousy night’s sleep.
One of the chief things I worry about when trying to fall asleep the night before a race is: getting up on time. If I’m at a hotel, I’ve got the wake-up call, the hotel alarm and my watch alarm. But still I worry. Maybe this is just a way to focus my worry on something other than my performance? Not that I really care that much about my performance. I’ve done 5:38 half-iron tris and been happy, and 6:15 half-iron tris and been happy. In the end, just doing it has always been satisfying. I need to remind myself of that the night before.
Anyhoo, I’m beyond impressed that you rode 200K yesterday.