Saturday I decided to do a dry run toward Saluda. Instead of going out with a particular wattage in mind, I planned to focus on keeping my speed over 18 mph while riding as easily as I could. Everything went great… until I started home.
On the way out I had two things going for me: 1) the wind was at my back, and 2) the route drops in elevation over 400 feet between Greenville and Saluda. This meant with a medium effort, I was able to maintain an average speed of 18.7 mph.
400 ft. drop in elevation over 57 miles
You’ll notice at the beginning and ending of the ride there are some noticeable dips. That is the terrain between my home and Augusta Street. In my attempt to keep my speed up before reaching Augusta, I had to put out some wattage. I was about an hour into the ride before I reached 18 mph.
That won’t be the case next Monday. Augusta Street runs along a shallow ridge. On the actual day, I’ll have a lot less climbing and should be able to reach the 18 mph average without as much work.
As I think about Saturday and plan for Monday, I realize that I am going to need to slow it down even more. 18.7 mph is still too high of an average. I’ve got to stay by my plan and I can’t push it. As much as my emotions want me to build a time buffer, my experience tells me I have got to conserve energy in these first four hours if I want to survive the final four.
On the way down I rejoiced in the tailwind. However, I knew that I would have to go back. A feeling of dread started to creep into my mind. Looking around I could see the trees waving wildly and flags standing out straight straining against the cords holding them to the poles. This was not going to be fun.
Still, I could tell I was feeling pretty strong after the first three hours. I decided to give it a try to maintain my 18 mph average back to home. Of course, the two things working for me on the way out would be conspiring against me on the way back.
At first I was feeling even more confident because I was managing speeds of 19 to 21 mph. Of course, I was in a more protected area at that point. That all came to an end about an hour in to the return.
I reached a point where the road kicked up in the midst of a large pasture. The wind was howling toward me. At the bottom of the hill I kicked into an uphill. I was going about 22 mph at that point. I maintained that speed for a bit until suddenly I was hit by a wall of air. The speed dropped immediately to 19.3 mph.
That was my experience for most of the return ride. It was a constant battle against the wind. As I fought, I kept watching my average speed drop. Still, I didn’t give up and kept pushing.
How can I explain riding into a stiff headwind? The closest experience I can relate it to is riding about 70 miles an hour on the Interstate in an old model convertible. You can take it for a bit, but then it starts to wear you out.
Yes, it isn’t just the effort of pedaling into the wind that wears you down. It is the constant buffeting as the wind swirls around you. It is the sound of the accelerated wind deafening you. It is the chapping of the salt against your cheeks and various other joints as the wind dries out your sweat.
For me it is also the way the wind makes my nose run profusely. It is almost as though my body stops sweating and decides to get rid of extra fluid by running it out my nose! It isn’t that my nose is congested. The water just pours right out.
Finally, at 5 hours in I gave up. I had dropped to 18 mph and I was feeling like a prize fighter against the ropes with my competition throwing lefts and rights. I remember distinctly the buffet of wind that nearly stopped me in my tracks.
It was time to pedal soft and live another day. I ended the day with a 17.3 mph average. I also learned a lot that will be helpful to me when I go out for real in about 7 days.
Here is the good news. As I look at the extended forecast, I see the winds consistently coming out of the west. I realize that things can change, but the winds also should be low.
Here is hoping my enemy stays home.
