The 2nd Annual 100 Miles of Nowhere - May 23rd, 2009
1st Place - Mike's Garage Singlespeed Division
Down in the garage, rocking a generic 80's mountain bike converted to a 38:14 singlespeed with a Shimano Biopace chainring. On hand were my trusty MacBook Pro and a really long extension cable for my headphones. During the actual race, I kept the garage door about half open. It can get really stinky in there!
Last night I had a dream about Lance Armstrong. It was the Tour de France, first hill stage, and Lance's calves were so skinny he couldn't even turn the cranks on his bike. For my part, I had pulled over mid-race to have a bath. This seemed like a perfectly reasonable manoeuvre, as the hem of my cargo shorts had become a little damp from the rain. I had the bath all drawn when I realized I would just get wet again and headed back outside to the race.
That's about when my two year old woke me up. Thank goodness, because I have a feeling things were about to get weird.
It's now breakfast time on race day. 100 Miles of Nowhere, to which end I've spiked my yogourt and granola with chocolate chips.
I'm way behind schedule. Muffin (the 2 year old, not his real name) is sick, and for quite literally the first day of his entire life, he prefers Daddy over Mommy. He's also very excited about the "Big Race", and is currently logging more distance on his bike than I am.
Bribed with Bunny Grahams, Muffin is visiting with Mommy. The water bottles are loaded with Carbo Rocket - first up, Quantum of Solace. You will notice, from the picture, the bribe did not keep him away for long.
My buttocks are on fire. I knew my seat wasn't that comfortable, but this is hell. I'm thinking about stuffing a pillow or something on there. It can't get any worse. The good news is, the Carbo-Rocket is starting to taste a lot better. 15 minutes in, I couldn't stand the stuff. 2 hours in I was starting to enjoy it. Also, Quantum of Solace rocked. An incredible improvement over Casino Royale, which bored me to tears. And thank goodness I found my riding gloves last night, my hands feel great. 42 miles in 2:38.
Last night I had the brilliant idea to do a push-up century too. Okay, 100 pushups doesn't compare to 100 miles, but you haven't seen my arms. 42 pushups just about killed me.
Pro Bar = Yummy. Oh, and I found my bike shorts last night too. Now I'm actually wearing them. I hope this helps. Next up, Transformers (oh please be good!).
Another 18 miles and pushups, and then a break to change a poopy diaper. Muffin is obsessed with the Big Race. It has completely ruined his lunch, and he melts down every time mommy tries to remove him from the garage. He'll ignore me again tomorrow. I am in love with Shot Bloks.
23 more miles, 23 more pushups. I really, really need a shower. The good news is my butt is becoming numb to the pain. My pit crew is nowhere to be found, I guess that means Muffin is napping.
As I suspected, both Muffin and my wife are fast asleep. Shot Bloks are all gone (note to Fatty: More Shot Bloks next year!), but plenty of Carbo Rocket remaining. I just did 17 pushups in advance of the last stage - want to start and end this thing on the bike. Let's see how much of Transporter 3 will be needed to get me through to the end. I'm optimistic it will set the right pace.
Finished up awhile ago, but typing was not my primary concern. I hit 100 miles with about 40 minutes of Transporter 3 left, and vowed to continue until the movie ended or until Muffin showed up demanding cuddles. The little man made his appearance at mile 105.
I feel surprisingly okay. Except for my hands that is, there's something curiously wrong with them. First of all, they are twitching. And I have the strength of approximately an 8 year old. The butt is recovering fairly nicely though.
(Next Day - 7:45 AM)
Are my Achilles' supposed to be doing this?
(Next Day - 3:01 PM)
Achilles are back to normal, as is my right hand. Left hand continue to experience what I hope will not be permanent damage. I'm already looking forward to next year.
(Two Days Later - 3:19 PM)
I finally got my post-race Slurpee. How I let my wife talk me out of this two days in a row is beyond me.
Some Final Thoughts: