I started out yesterday morning reading some from The Time-Crunched Cyclist (more on that later). Then it was off to take my son to his baseball tryouts. After moving branches from a tree that fell in my backyard and fixing the shed door, I stopped for lunch. Lunch done, I put up a new light fixture in the hallway. I helped my son burn some of the branches and then I was free to ride my bike.
It was around 2:30 PM when I rolled the Felt out to the driveway. The weather was beautiful. Just around 60 degrees and feeling even warmer when I stood in the sun. I wondered if I was going to get too warm with my long sleeve under layer and knee warmers. Figuring that the wind would make things a bit cooler, I decided to stay dressed.
This ride was a throw back to days gone by. I didn’t have a plan. I didn’t even know where I would go. Turning right out of the driveway decreased my options, but there would still be plenty of varied terrain to mix things up.
In about 8 minutes, I was in Cleveland Park. I decided I would stay there a bit and do some laps. This would also be a return to days gone by.
Back when I was first starting to ride I had no inclinations to race. I thought it was way beyond me. However, I did like going fast and enjoyed competition. If I couldn’t race other riders, I would race myself.
Little did I know that what I was doing was an unsophisticated type of interval training. What I did was do up to 10 laps of the park – about a 2.5 mile loop. There are two climbs that require a good effort and some downhills that give you a minute or so to recover. The rest of the park is pretty flat as it runs along the Reedy River.
As I did these laps I would focus on either 1) beating the time of my previous lap, or 2) try to maintain a certain speed for the entire lap. I still remember how pumped I was when I managed to hold a 22 mph average for the 20 or so miles. I can’t remember my fastest lap, though I don’t believe I ever got under 6 minutes — though I did get close.
Well, on this beautiful Saturday I pushed my lap button at the bottom of the climb on Woodland Circle. The first lap was more a warm up. Because of all the people and the traffic, I finished the first lap close to 8 minutes.
I picked it up a bit on the second lap, but still got caught at the doggie park because of all the people parking along the side of the narrow road to unload their dogs. I went a little harder once I got clear in an attempt to make up time, but that was a mistake. I’m not ready for those kinds of efforts! Still, I shaved off about 30 seconds.
The earlier effort caught up with me on the third lap. I focused on keeping a cadence over 90 rpm and tried to make sure I kept spinning circles instead of mashing on the pedals. This time I got held up by pedestrians crossing the road and cars slowing for speed bumps, but got the lap done in about the same time as the second lap.
I made that one my last and slowly made my way toward the Swamp Rabbit Trail to go downtown to get a cup of coffee. What a wonderful thing to see all the people! It is a great place to people watch. There are some interesting characters, but also it is fun to watch the cyclists who are trying to be “all that.”
About an hour was under my belt when I stopped for my coffee. As I pulled up to dismount my bike, I saw two racer type cyclists — probably college age — go by. Their jerseys were unzipped and they looked like they had been putting in an effort. I wondered if they were coming in from the UWBL.
Several cars went by with bikes on top. I figured they t00 were used for the several hour long ride that leaves from downtown most Saturday mornings during the winter months. Unlike the past, I didn’t feel a pang of guilt for not taking my bike with them.
I tried to finish the last of my coffee so I could get going and ended up burning my tongue. I had parked my bike on the outside of the shop and sat near the door. I wanted to get riding again, but also wanted to attach myself to the bike before someone else did!
Now I was on the Swamp Rabbit Trail headed toward Furman University. Once again I found myself moving around people skating, walking their dogs, running, walking or riding their bikes. Today there were a lot of bicycles.
As I neared Furman, I was glad I had kept my knee warmers and under layer. The wind was cooler now and I was in more shaded areas. The layers made me feel quite comfortable.
Once you reach the portion of the trail that goes through the Furman campus, Paris Mountain becomes an obvious landmark. As I glanced up from the shaded trail to see the sun shining on the mountain, I decided that going over it would be the fastest way home. That would make my ride about 2 hours total and it would be fun to make my first attempt of 2012.
I had absolutely NO thoughts that this was going to be a good time. I didn’t even try to make it so. I put the bike in the easiest gear and started to climb. Frankly, I was feeling pretty bad by the water tower section. I was starting to second guess my decision!
Getting around the first turn after that section, I was feeling a bit better. I was more in a rhythm.
I reached halfway in 7 minutes or so. Hmmmm, that wasn’t so bad for not really trying. As I started, I thought it might be nice to hit 18 minutes. Now I was thinking I might make it in 16.
Sure enough about two-thirds of the way up I bogged down. This is typical for me. Still, I just kept looking ahead to the next turn and kept spinning. I reached the wall just under 15 minutes. I stood and started rocking the bike toward the top. Maybe because I had not pushed hard to this point, I found that I was feeling pretty good.

Looking through the trees atop Paris Mountain. Looking toward Saluda.
I pushed the lap button at 15:33. This will be my base time to start the year. Each time I make the climb, I’ll try to bring it down. Granted, it won’t be hard to drop it with a little bit of effort. However, I know the time will come when it will be very hard to improve the time.
Coming off the mountain, I let the Felt go. I love big-ringing it down Altamont and swooping like an eagle around the turns. It helps me forget about the pain of the climb.
I pulled up at home after just over 2 hours on the bike. There was no guilt that it hadn’t been 4 hours. I sat down by the still burning logs to talk with my son. There was a smile on my face — and on the inside.
It was good that the bike was telling me how to love it instead of everyone around me.