Got my MS Society ride in on Saturday.

First of all, thanks to everyone who donated and supported the ride.

Summary
All in all, it went pretty well for the first one of these things I'd ever done. Good weather, new bike (see Tech Report), nice landscape, etc. As for numbers, I only have a rough idea (see Tech Report, see also Route Review). I averaged about 13-15 mph., which is no seed-like pace, but with my lack of work on real hills, felt like a decent push.

Tech Report
Why the fuzziness? Well, the bike computer I moved onto the new bike was on the fritz. In the post-ride maintenance, I discovered that the placement of the token on the wheel (the magnet that goes by the wireless piece to record a wheel's revolution) is one sensitive sumbitch, and that I had gotten luck on my other bike with it being right the first time.

Bigger issues, though, we had on the bike itself. As far as I can tell, there are some tension issues with the rear dérailleur. On climbs, or any flats where I wanted to up the speed with a little more pushing, I started doing an involuntary impression of the robot dance. The chain would either jump a couple teeth in the middle gears (rear cassette), or bounce between two gears. This meant I spent a lot of fucking effort getting up every single hill, since my feet would rotate a good quarter-turn every time this happened, with no power going to the wheels. No to mention the rather unsteady feeling it produces. So that needs to get checked.

Route Review
No doubt, VA is pretty country. Hilly, but pretty. The route was nice, meandering through the countryside and various small towns. The ride was a nice mix of long (relatively) flat areas, speedy downhills for a break, and some tough climbs.

The only problem was route marking was bad at the beginning. So I went a couple extra miles only to turn around. (Making it hard to figure my speed from time.) And then there was what I call the Fake Finish.

So, after passing a photog who was getting pics of red-faced people climbing a serious hill (ooh, pretty, can I have a shot of me looking like I'm passing kidney stones? sweeeet...), these two people were taking a break at the top. The greet me with big smiles, their matching blue/black jersey/short combo grating on me instantly. (I did it in bike shorts under ratty basketball shorts and a shitty t-shirt.) "Almost there!" says the big male one. "It's all downhill from here!" chirps the female one.

ASIDE: Despite being in lycra pants, it's often hard to tell the relative hotness of some female riders, covered as so many are in shapeless, oversized - though no doubt incredibly expensive - jerseys to match their bikes/boyfriends, under fat helmets, sunglasses that look like car windshields from Formula 1 races with enough reflective power to burn ants at 50 yards, and carrying a pack that would make some sherpas nervous.END ASIDE.

These were both lies. A twisty little down ended in a long, slow climb up to another hill that dipped a little before more climbing. And the "almost there" was referring not to the end, but to the Fake Finish.

So, I enter a town and round a corner. There's balloons, signs ("Turn in here!") and people clapping as folks ride in and dismount. And there were a lot of people. So I do the same. I wander over, drop the bike, the helmet, and the camelbak. Walk out some stiffness. Then head to the only table I can see through the people. It's next to a big FedEx truck, clearly of the kind that the ride info all mentioned would be taking bikes back to the starting point so people could get their cars. Folks are walking around, smiling, snacking, etc. And there's a big contingent of those people in color-coordinated outfits featuring jerseys from some Italian or French or Dutch, or whatever team with all the logos and crap, walking funny on their color-coordinated special clip-pedal shoes that look like they shelled out about what I paid for my bike. (Note also that they look very, very crisp. Newish. Used-lightly, like.) Many with a soda in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

This is it, right? I mean, why else would everyone be relaxing like that? So I spend maybe 15 minutes just laying down, taking in the sun, waiting for signals that the trucks ready to head back. I decide to get a glass of the water and some of the peanut butter sammiches they have on the one table I saw (yes, the one table seems odd, but I figured that since the 100-milers had a different route, this was just for us pikers). So I pick it up, and UNDERNEATH all the cups and crap, I see "REST STATION #5."

Ah, fuck. I got maybe 8-9 more miles. So I get back on the bike and pedal to the end. Unfortunately, these final miles head back into the area around the major highways, so the route takes you onto a bike trail that criss-crosses major roads (meaning you have to stop and put your foot down every 1/2 mile or so). But the end was a nice field at a decent farm-like place, with lunch, water, etc.

Personal Performance
I've got a lot of work to do.

Mostly, I discovered, on endurance for long climbs. It wasn't the steep ones that got to me, even if they looked kinda long. It was those 3/4 to 1-mile moderate grade things that you can't see the end of. Those fucking killed me. I had to stop on one of them, I admit. But I didn't walk a fucking step. Just stretched and tried to get my heart back into my chest. I promised myself I'd ride the whole bit, even if I had to stop for a bit. And I did. But boy, I would have walked the damn hill faster than I was pedaling at one point.

So tonight it's back to the spinning classes and rides. Hey, don't knock the spinning! The bikes are closer to road bikes than most exercise bikes, and the workout can be seriously hard if you ratchet up the tension. Plus the forced effort is good for the soul -- as cheesy as they are, the instructors are serious riders who keep things at a pretty high pace for the full hour. Plus, how can you mind watching 23-y.o. women in hotpants and sportsbras getting all flushed?

What I didn't count on was the upper-body stiffness from having been hunched for a couple of hours. My triceps felt like mush. But I'll know better next time.