I’ve been trying to get a last few hard days in ahead of the 101. Hard enough to put my body in a racing metabolism for the coming week. Without doing many long days in the last few weeks I haven’ t been as hungry as I normally am and I’ve been worried that I won’t be storing glycogen the way I need to for next weekend.
So yesterday I went out and did Rebersburg-Madisonburg in the afternoon. I haven’t done that ride in at least a year and I kept questioning why. There was a stretch a few years ago where we did it several Saturdays in a row because it got folks home for afternoon commitments and I got kind of burnt out on the ride. But it remains one of the prettiest rides in the area. To and from the climbs on 192 isnt’ anything special, but once you turn up Rebersburg you are treated to some of the prettiest scenery in the area. From Tylserville out to 64 winds down along one of the prettiest trout streams I’ve seen anywhere. And the climb up Madisonburg is awesome: 5 miles of gradual climbing before it kicks up and covers 650 vertical feet in the last 2 miles. 4 hours and 70 miles later I was worked and treated myself to a few recover beverages at Otto’s with Nita and some of the boys.
Today I headed out with Chipper and Billy to do some 101 recon. Up Vietnam, over 26, Pine Swamp, Greenlee, Croyle, to Seeger and out to Penn Roosevelt, then up Thickhead, Detweiler, Bear Meadows Rd, Lonberger, 3 Bridges and home through Boalsburg. I was feeling great on the early climbs and was feeling pretty confident with my gearing choice for the race (sticking with the 34×19). Spinning through the flats sucked, but it sucks in my 17 too. Billy headed home after Greenlee and Chipper and I continued on. When we got down Detweiler and onto the Bear Meadows climb I was starting to feel the bonk coming. We were both out of food and Chipper promised me some Accelerade once we got to the top, so I had to dig deep to hold it together over the top. I recovered enough to keep rolling, but I had to puss out when Chip suggested that we head out the Gap. Through the rocks at 3-bridges I knew I had nothing in me to negotiate the rocks and heading down the Gap was a recipe for disaster. So I rode home in Chipper’s draft, which was no small feat as he was pushing the big ring all the way into Boalsburg and I was spinning like a chipmunk on amphetamines to keep up.
The sun is out and it seems a perfect afternoon for a nap with my dog.
