Poppies!

May. 16th, 2024 12:58 pm

Been a long time, I know. But thus far, my 2024 cycling has been uneventful but steady, as evinced by my Fitness chart, which has hovered almost unchanged since November… albeit at a level I consider reasonably active. Group rides have included ten PMC Zwift rides during the first two months of the year, which then transitioned to a dozen outdoor Friday Truancy rides as the weather improved.

Aside from just riding around, I’ve had to replace a lot of equipment due to wear and tear, including a saddle bag, gloves, three punctured inner tubes, and my heart rate monitor. My most noteworthy new purchase was a HoverAir X1 automated selfie drone, but I’ll discuss that in a separate, future blogpo.

I’d planned to undertake 2024’s first organized cycling event back in February. But as I packed the car the evening before my 2-hour drive to Hempstead, I left the interior cabin light on, and climbed into the car at 5am to discover a dead battery. Needless to say, I wound up aborting my Pedaling the Prairie ride.

With few events that early in the year, it wasn’t until this past weekend that I lined up for my first century of 2024: the Red Poppy Ride in Georgetown, 30 minutes north of Austin.

I approached it with a bit of trepidation. I’ve done no long rides this year, and an imperial century (at 161 KM) would be twice the distance of my longest indoor (82 KM) and outdoor (72 KM) rides thus far. I’ve also only done one century in the past 18 months; that was last September’s Livestrong Challenge, which pushed me beyond my limit and resulted in ignominiously puking my guts out into a trash bin at the finish line. That left me wondering if I am still physically suited to riding 100 miles now that I’m 60 years old.

Ride start: not a small ride!

Ride start: not a small ride!

After the half-hour drive to the start, I picked up my bib number (a grossly inappropriate #357) and joined a large field of several hundred riders, although most were doing shorter routes. Typical of Hill Country mornings, the sky was about 70 percent obscured by thin clouds, and the temperature hovered around 20°. You couldn’t ask for a better forecast for a long ride.

Having suffered three flats in recent months, I imagined that my rear tire wasn’t holding air pressure well and chose ask the mechanical support tent to replace my inner tube at the last minute. That work left me with just enough time to line up at the start with my buddy Jordan and his friends John, John, and Bob.

While swapping my tube, I heard snippets of the organizer’s pre-ride announcements, which mentioned some rough gravel sections of the route, a detour, and route markings. He said something about the 100-mile route coming back the to the start and then going out again on a second route to complete the full distance. I was already confused about the route because the organizer hadn’t provided a downloadable GPS course, while the cue sheet and two maps on the event website all disagreed with one another. And none of them had shown a mid-ride return to the start.

So as we rolled out at 8am, I wasn’t just worried about aging and my fitness, but also my tire, the route and any detours, the gravel sections, and the route arrows.

The first 22 km of the ride included a couple small hills before the course flattened out. More taxing was the 20 km/h headwind, which would persist through the north- and east-ward first third of the ride. We were quickly onto empty country roads through endless farmland and cornfields already showing ears with silks… in mid-May!

Fields and fields and fields and fields and...

Fields and fields and fields and fields and...

I was taking it easy, but keeping up with the pack. My friend Jordan disappeared down the road, but his outgoing buddy Bob and I chatted off and on as the miles ticked away. I zipped past the first two water stops before finally pulling off at rest stop #3 for a 5-minute break. It was 9:20am, and I’d covered 37 km.

Having finished the northeast-bound part of the course, we turned south. The change put the wind behind us, which was a delightful benefit on the endless false flats we covered. At 10:30am I pulled into water stop #4 for another quick refill. With 65 km down, I was on pace to complete my century in 6:10!

This was where things got frustrating. First my GoPro battery died after just 17 still photos. And 30 minutes on I felt the tell-tale squishiness of my rear tire going flat: the very misfortune that I’d hoped to avoid by installing a new inner tube. Ironically, it wasn’t due to a puncture; the leak was at the valve stem, indicating a manufacturing defect in the brand-new tube I’d gotten at the support tent.

Somehow, one of the few support vehicles pulled up almost immediately, followed – equally improbably – by the aforementioned Bob, John, and John trio. After installing my remaining spare tube, it took two of us to manhandle the tire back onto the rim, and we’d lost 20 minutes by the time we set out again. With 85 km still to go, no spare tubes, and gun-shy after my recent spate of flats, I decided it would be safest to continue riding with these guys, who were doing a more relaxed pace than I had been.

Having just had a long break, we skipped nearby stop #5 and rode on to stop #6, where we arrived just after noontime with 99 km on the odo. There was still some high overcast, but much of the fog had burned off, and temperatures had climbed moderately toward 26°.

Along the way, one of the Johns and I discussed the route, because none of the riders or support staff had any idea which of the several conflicting routes was the “real” one. Fortunately, John’s plan and my route gleaned from the cue sheet were in agreement, so we committed to that option, and to hell with the official route, whatever it was.

Texas: not unlike Ohio, Penna, or Mass

Texas: not unlike Ohio, Penna, or Mass

On the following segment, we endured about a mile of gravel road (where I fretted about my tire), followed by a gulley where Opossum Creek was just high enough to spill over the roadway, forcing a ginger water crossing. Along the way, Bob and the other John peeled off to complete shorter routes; but the remaining John and I were joined by another century rider named Dodge.

We rolled into rest stop #8 at 1:26pm, having completed 125 km. I was starting to feel the effort in my legs and traps. The whole day my Garmin bike computer had steadily predicted – based on my previous training – that I’d run out of stamina after 115 to 120 km, and it was eerily accurate.

This was actually the same location as stop #1, so we were pretty close to the start. But in order to complete the full century route, we needed another 35 km. This was the dubious part of the route, but the three of us agreed to follow the cue sheet, which did a 28 km loop by doubling back and rejoining the roads we’d already ridden. That included a second passage of the short gravel section and the Opossum Creek crossing, where I dunked my cycling sandal-clad feet in the stream to cool off.

And in no time (about 70 minutes, akshually) we rolled right back into the same rest stop, arriving at 2:50pm, now with just 9 km left to go.

After a minimal rest we knocked out the final segment back to the start/finish, hitting 100 miles (161 km) just before the end, celebrating Dodge’s first-ever 100-mile ride – and my 109th!

Reflections

While I can’t say this ride was spectacularly special, it did provide some memorable elements.

Most importantly, it gave me back my mojo, after such a difficult experience on my last century, eight months ago. It proved that – despite my age – I still have the strength to complete a 100-mile ride, even early in the year and in the absence of adequate training rides.

One of the reasons why it wasn’t a more painful experience is that riding with Bob and John forced me to pace myself. Although I thought I was being conservative at the start, my average power riding solo before I flatted was 152W, while after I flatted and joined them it was 112W.

My only physical complaints were growing pain in my traps toward the end of the ride, and saddle irritation in the days following.

One mistake was that I forgot to take the electrolyte caplets I’d brought along. That wasn’t an issue thanks to the temperate weather, but I don’t want to overlook that in future, more challenging (i.e. hotter) events.

In terms of equipment, the obvious issue was riding on an untested inner tube and worn tire. The entire second half of the ride was tinged with fear that I might have a second flat, but my backup tube performed flawlessly. But I do need to practice re-seating my tire on the rim, and am considering trying out a set of Pirelli P-Zeros over the tight-fitting Conti GP5000s.

And I can’t let it pass that I finished the 7½-hour ride with 56% battery charge left on my Garmin cycling computer, thanks in part to the 45 minutes of charge gained from its built-in solar panel. It’s nice no longer needing to carry a USB power bank and plug it in halfway through a long ride. And the unit’s stamina estimates again proved surprisingly accurate.

But the biggest worry and inconvenience was the organizer’s poor communication of the ride route. The overview map depicting all half-dozen courses was unclear. The 100-mile route map was incorrect, only showing an 86-mile route with no inner loop. The cue sheet included that inner loop, but that contradicted the other two maps. And the verbal announcement at the start said something about returning to the start, which wasn’t on the cue sheet or any map!

Out on the road, the half dozen routes were marked by colored arrows, but no one had labeled which color arrows went with which distance, so when they diverged, riders had to guess which arrow to follow. At every rest stop, riders were asking which route was correct, and the volunteers couldn’t do anything but point at the map. And after all that, the arrows painted on the road veered off and went in yet another direction altogether!

Of course, all this would have been avoided if the organizer did what every other event does: provide GPS route files that can be downloaded to one’s bike computer. I have no idea why the organizer neglected to offer this basic service, especially when their vague maps and cue sheets and arrows all contradicted each another. But setting that frustration aside, in the same way as I did during the ride…

I did enjoy the event. It had been nearly two years since I had a satisfying century ride, and I really needed the confidence boost that this one provided. I’m glad I did it, and glad to have my first century of 2024 under my belt. And I expect to return to the Red Poppy Ride, albeit after taking extra precautions to clarify the intended route.

With over 25 years in the saddle, that’s long enough to divide my cycling career into eras. And having just begun a new era in Austin, it might be interesting to see what a typical year looked like in the past, how my riding pattern has changed over time, and what it might look like in coming years.

You probably know that I’ve long tracked the daily variations of my cycling Fitness using a metric that is usually called Chronic Training Load, as explained here.

Looking back over the Fitness data I’ve collected, I’ve grouped the past 12 years’ riding into four “eras”. Those are:

  • 4 years from 2012 to 2015, when I was living in Boston
  • 3 years from 2016 to 2018, when I was living in Pittsburgh
  • 4 years from 2019 to 2022, when I was still in Pittsburgh, but riding the indoor trainer through the winters
  • And my best guess for how things will change here in Austin

The following chart plots my average/typical Fitness over the course of a year for each of those eras. Commentary follows, below.

chart

Let’s start with the bottom, orange line. It shows my average Fitness over my last four years in Boston. Things to note:

  • I did essentially zero riding from December into March during the New England winters.
  • Every spring I started from near zero, rapidly building Fitness back up.
  • With nearly all major events crammed into a short 3-month summer, my Fitness peaked from June until PMC weekend at the start of August.
  • With my major events done, my Fitness dropped rapidly in the weeks following the PMC, before stabilizing at a lower level during the relaxed rides of autumn.
  • As the temperatures fell, so did my Fitness, declining rapidly over the holidays and long winter.

The next-higher, green curve represents my first three years’ riding in Pittsburgh. It’s extremely similar to the previous one, with some subtle differences:

  • With a slightly improved climate, I was able to do a bit more winter riding, especially in December and in March of the following spring.
  • My major events were more spread out, going from late May through September. And with no PMC ride, my Fitness didn’t spike at the start of August or drop off right afterward.
  • Thus I did more riding in August and September, and had a longer period of peak summer Fitness before ramping down in the autumn.

Now look at that almost flat blue line at the very top of the chart. That’s my average Fitness for my next four years in Pittsburgh. Although it looks radically different, the only change was using my new indoor trainer to maintain my Fitness over the winters. Here’s what jumps out at me from that line:

  • My Fitness held steady over the holidays, rather than its usual decline. This allowed me to start the new year with dramatically higher Fitness.
  • Starting from a higher base and being able to ride throughout the winter meant my buildup to peak form could be more gradual, running 5 months from January through May rather than 2-3 months.
  • My summertime peak covered the same duration, but my head start allowed my Fitness to peak at a noticeably higher level.

That brings us to last year’s move to Austin, Texas. How will my annual riding pattern change? Well, if you look at the red dashed line, I’ll tell you what I’m thinking.

  • I’ll still be using my indoor trainer, and milder winters will allow me to ride outdoors more often, so I expect a very flat pattern, without any huge seasonal dips.
  • I expect my Fitness will decline a little bit overall. There seem to be fewer long rides and routes in this area, and I’m also losing capacity as I progress into my seventh decade.
  • I expect January and February will continue to be my annual minimum Fitness, mostly because cold weather will make it unpleasant to ride the indoor trainer in our unheated garage.
  • And instead of summer being a single plateau, I expect my Fitness will peak once in late spring and again in early fall. In the middle there’ll be a noticeable dip, since Texas events tend to happen in spring and fall. I definitely won’t be riding as much during Texas’ brutal summer as I used to back in New England!

From all that, here are the factors that have shaped my annual riding pattern:

  • My acquisition of an indoor trainer at the end of 2018
  • The realities of seasonal changes and weather at my home locations
  • The number and schedule of major organized rides, especially the Pan-Mass Challenge
  • The availability of routes suitable for long solo rides
  • The lowered capabilities that have come with aging

It was the most of times; it was the least of times. My 2023 cycling year was very noteworthy, but in ways that were mostly peripherally related to riding my bike.

Welcome to the new hometown!

Welcome to the new hometown!

On the downside, I began the year off the bike for two months due to our move from Pittsburgh to Austin and subsequent discovery of a fatal crack in my beloved primary bike of the past ten years. Then I lost another month in September for a warranty replacement of the rear wheel on my new, successor bike. I only completed one century – my fewest since 2007 – and vomited right after finishing it. Throw in a couple frustrating flat tires, the challenge of navigating a new town, and the harsh reality of turning sixty years old. 2023 provided a litany of disappointments, and my Fitness and distance numbers reflected it.

But there were a lot of major high points, too. I got a brand new bike that I love, at a steal of a discount! I replaced my old, frail bike GPS with Garmin’s newest model, which has tons of cool new features and reliable battery life! I enjoyed meeting local cyclists and exploring my new hometown of Austin, and even got to bike on a Formula One race track! At my first Livestrong century, my old grammar school friend Scott came down from New Hampshire; it was also my first event as an official member of Team Kermit, and I got to ride with several old and new Pan-Mass Challenge friends who had flown in from Boston!

From an athletic standpoint, 2023 wasn’t a superlative year, but a decent one. And I’m pleased by all the memorable stuff that did happen.

My Original 2023 Goals

At this time last year, my bike and all my cycling gear was locked away in a moving van in an unknown location somewhere between Pittsburgh and Austin, while Inna and I spent our last couple days in Pennsylvania at her mother’s apartment.

Therefore I had no idea what cycling in Austin would be like, or even what our lives would look like when we got there. So it made no sense setting any specific goals for 2023. The new year was going to be imperfect, but that meant that whatever I did achieve would be gravy.

However, I did list four general themes that I thought would be foremost. They were:

Moving and Orienting in Austin

I knew this year’s biggest change would be finding my niche in a new city, and I did okay, as outlined in my Austin On-Ramp blogpost. However, I still need to put more energy into this, in every category of knowledge. I explored a few group rides, but there are several more that I haven’t. I’m familiar with a few bike shops, but still haven’t found “the one”. I’ve done a couple big event rides, but nowhere near as many as usual. Similar to my move to Pittsburgh in 2015, I’ve leveraged Strava’s Flyby feature and other riders to find some good routes for solo riding, but my options are still extremely limited. So orienting myself and finding my crew is still a work-in-progress.

All smiles on a scorching Friday Truancy group ride

All smiles on a scorching Friday Truancy group ride

Showing off the new 2023 Æthos

Showing off the new 2023 Æthos

Celebrating another XP-filled Tour of Watopia on Zwift

Celebrating another XP-filled Tour of Watopia on Zwift

Another looming concern with the move was coping with the Texas heat, and the summer of 2023 delivered, with no less than 78 days above 37°C (100°F). I continued to ride through it, but limited myself to short rides first thing in the morning… Except for the Friday Truancy group ride, which – despite being the most congenial group ride I found – was often a challenging mid-afternoon scorcher!

I knew I couldn’t commit to riding 10,000 kilometers this year, but thought I might be good for 8,000 KM – the same as last year – which I surpassed. In actuality, I rode at an 11,000 KM per year pace for nine months of the year, but couldn’t ride at all for the other three.

Amusingly, in last year’s writeup I mused that “I might go and buy myself a new steed”. That happened unexpectedly at the start of the year, right after the move, when a local shop discovered a crack in my old bike’s frame. More about that below, where I talk about the year’s purchases.

18th Pan-Mass Challenge and $125,000

I kinda knew that I wouldn’t be able to do a remote PMC ride this year. I had no idea what I could use for a route, what the August heat would be like, whether I’d have the time to do the required fundraising, or if I’d be in physical shape for 300 KM over two days. So I bagged it, and rode a lesser substitute: joining the PMC’s visiting Team Kermit to ride Austin’s Livestrong Challenge in September. Goal deferred; I’ll reconsider this in 2024.

Zwift Level 60

I also didn’t know how much I’d use the smart trainer in Austin, but I did rack up 3,400 indoor KM, which was was more than 2022. Although it can be prohibitively hot or cold to ride in our uninsulated and unheated garage, Zwift incentivized me by creating new roads and moving the Tour of Watopia from March to October. And in December I completed my fifth year on their platform.

I advanced from Level 53 to Level 58 on my slow and painful trudge toward Zwift’s pinnacle: Level 60. Then, with a month left to the year and 85% of the way through Level 58, Zwift moved the goalposts. On one hand, they made it easier to reach Level 60 by reducing the amount of XP needed to level up by about 75 percent. But at the same time, they made it harder to reach the top XP level by tacking on forty new levels, from 61 to 100!

The easier leveling let me zip through Level 59 and reach Level 60 in a matter of days, even finishing the year on Level 62. Although I achieved my goal of reaching Level 60, it’s just not as satisfying because Zwift made the last couple steps much easier to achieve.

Health and Turning 60

On the other hand, no one made the “Turning 60 years old” achievement any easier. I definitely checked that one off, and my flagging on-bike performance showed it, as I discussed in this blogpo.

Fortunately, my time in the saddle wasn’t limited by my health. A heart monitor investigating my cardiac palpitations produced a mostly clear result, with the interesting side-note of registering a sleeping low heart rate as low as 37 BPM! Otherwise there were the usual inconveniences: threw my back out, saddle sores, saddle abrasion, and the joys of colonoscopy prep.

The biggest health question I faced was how to manage heat and hydration in order to avoid problems like I experienced on September’s Livestrong century ride. Before moving to Texas, I could easily do a century without paying much attention to that equation, but now it’s something I really need to solve.

Charts

This year I made my Fitness charts a little wider, and added red vertical lines denoting significant dates. These make it a little easier to see major changes and some context for why they happened.

Let’s begin by comparing 2023 to previous years.

Cycling Fitness: 2011-2023

There’s really three things to note here. First, due to the move, I started 2023 at my lowest level of Fitness (as measured by CTL) since January 2017. Second, 2023 continued a clear trend of decreasing Fitness highs from my recent peak in 2021. As any stock analyst will tell you, a sequence of lower highs and lower lows makes for an unhappy trendline.

And finally, my level of Fitness in 2023 was quite similar to 2018, which was my last year without an indoor trainer; a year that was hampered by tons of travel, record-setting rain, plus malaise and fatigue following the intensely challenging Dirty Dozen ride the preceding fall.

That comparison to 2018 is extremely apt. If you count by Fitness or long rides or number of hours on the bike, 2023 was my worst year since 2018.

So let’s take a closer look at how 2023 unfolded in detail:

Cycling Fitness: 2023 Calendar Year (vs. average)

The year breaks down into five distinct periods: down, up, flat, down, and up; all of it swerving above and below the grey line that represents my average Fitness level throughout the year.

I didn’t ride at all in January, while we were still unpacking from our move. In February, I brought my beloved, ten year old bike to the shop for a major overhaul, only to learn that there was a crack in the frame. I put a few miles on my old folding bike while I waited for Specialized to decide whether I was eligible for their Assisted Replacement Policy, and then procure and assemble my new steed. After more than two months off the bike, my Fitness was at a six-year low, way behind where I’d normally be.

Then the “up” phase. When I finally received my new Specialized Æthos, I rode every day for two months straight, as shown by my steadily increasing Fitness in March and April. When my consecutive rides streak ended on May 1th, I was well ahead of my usual training, and at my peak Fitness for the whole year.

I rode regularly during the summer months from May into September, but coped with the Texas summer by only doing short rides, early in the morning, and focusing on the cheeky goal of being the rider who did the most ascents (within 90 days) of the notorious Ladera Norte climb. With no major events and low riding volume, my Fitness plateaued just below my seasonal average. Summer ended with a secondary Fitness peak in September following the Livestrong Challenge, my only imperial century of the year.

But my planned autumnal riding came to a screeching halt when I discovered that during the Livestrong ride, a rock strike had broken my carbon fiber rear wheel rim. I spent the next month off the bike completely, my Fitness plummeting again while I waited for Specialized to get me a warranty replacement.

Once that was fixed, I was back where I’d been in March: spending most of the fourth quarter recovering the Fitness I’d lost during my hiatus. But similar June’s recovery, I ended the year at a tertiary Fitness peak, well ahead of my wintertime average, and that will carry over into the nascent 2024 season.

In the end, it was a year dominated by stops and starts, but I still accrued a respectable 8,250 KM of riding.

The Centuries

I rode with Team Kermit at the Livestrong Challenge

I rode with Team Kermit at the Livestrong Challenge

Ornoth limping across the finish line

Ornoth limping across the finish line

Pæthos at autumnal Lake Austin

Pæthos at autumnal Lake Austin

But it was a terrible year in terms of long rides. Between bike repair woes, lack of fitness, unfamiliarity with the area, and prohibitive Texas heat, I only attempted one imperial century in 2023. That’s the fewest I’ve done in sixteen years, since 2007.

In fact, I only did seven rides over 100 KM (62 miles): four Zwift fondos on the indoor trainer, a ride down to the Veloway and back, the Fire Ant metric, and my one century, which was:

9/10: Livestrong Challenge

While I only did one – and suffered tremendously, vomiting shortly after finishing – at least it was noteworthy. It was:

  • My first and only century of 2023
  • My first imperial century in 11 months
  • My first century in Texas
  • My first century on my new bike: Pæthos
  • My first century with my new Garmin Edge 840 Solar bike GPS
  • My first event as an official member of Team Kermit
  • My first Livestrong ride

Noteworthy Purchases

In contrast, 2023 was an incredibly productive year for the “procurement department”. With so many new toys, I’ll try to keep it brief…

Topping the list is my new bike: Pæthos, a Specialized Æthos that Specialized gave me an unexpectedly generous discount on. It’s been a very worthy addition, carrying on the performance endurance lineage that my previously-favored Roubaix model abandoned when it went all comfort/gravel/gimmicky. I’m slowly transitioning my kit to match its understated “Chameleon Oil Tint / Flake Silver” (aka black & white) design. My only complaint was the short-lived carbon wheels, which Spesh replaced after the rear wheel broke on its first century ride. Otherwise it’s been a complete delight. In-depth review here.

With a new bike came a handful of new accessories. Hearing rumors of fragility, I picked up a spare seatpost clamp and derailleur hanger in case of breakage. Frustration with flat tires led me to pick up a bunch of spare inner tubes, a CO2 dispenser, and a new Lezyne mini-pump. The latter frees up the bottle cage mount that my old frame pump occupied, so I have finally added a second bottle cage, which will be handy for long rides in the Texas heat. Also a handful of plastic disc brake spacers.

There’s been lots of regular gear replacement as well, including a new Garmin HRM-Dual heart rate monitor, and two new pairs of Craft bibshorts. The new bike needed to be supplied with 28mm Conti GP5000 tires, and a new set of name tag stickers (this time in white, to match Specialized’s own logo decals).

After the bike, another huge development was upgrading my bike GPS head unit from my decrepit old Garmin Edge 820 to the long-awaited new Edge 840 Solar. It too has been an absolute delight, so it also warranted its own separate in-depth review. Since that writeup, Garmin has added the ability for the head unit to display images and photos in incoming text messages.

In addition to new daily-wear bibshorts, I gained a couple other bits of new kit. A jersey from the Buddhist Bike Pilgrimage: a ride I completed back in 2012. And a 2023 Livestrong Challenge jersey, which I earned for surpassing $500 in fundraising. And my very own 2023 Team Kermit jersey and bibshorts. The team uniform even included my very own Kermit the Frog stuffed doll for mounting on my helmet: a traditional (but decidedly non-aerodynamic) part of the team kit.

My most recent purchase was an Ekrin Bantam cordless massage gun, which has been delightful to use, but its effectiveness and safety are still under evaluation.

And finally, the most notable addition to my indoor pain cave was Zwift’s Play controllers. These mount to your handlebars and offer lots of shortcut buttons for in-game actions. But the most useful function they provide is the ability to steer, allowing you to position your avatar in or out of the draft or take an optimal line through corners.

Big sky fulla giant Ornoths at the Fire Ant Tour

Big sky fulla giant Ornoths at the Fire Ant Tour

Bike night at the Circuit of the Americas

Bike night at the Circuit of the Americas

Red Bud Isle (more green than red, akshually)

Red Bud Isle (more green than red, akshually)

Additional Highlights

Naturally, moving to a new city produced a lot of new experiences. I rode a challenging Fire Ant 100k up in Gatesville. I got to ride on Austin’s dedicated cycling circuit, the Veloway. I spent two evenings “zooming” around the Circuit of the Americas: Austin’s Formula One grand prix track. I joined more than a dozen Friday Truancy group rides. And it was great hosting old and new New England friends on Team Kermit rides in the lead-up to the Livestrong Challenge.

Flats – and a non-functioning frame pump – were a problem this year. I had to call a Lyft rideshare to get home after a quadruple snakebite on Blue Bluff, and also walked to The Peddler for repairs after taking a screw on 51st in Mueller. Hence all the new flat-repair equipment mentioned above.

I’m tempted to list out the two dozen Strava “Local Legend” achievements I earned by being the person who rode a segment more than anyone else in a 90-day period, but that’d be a waste. I’ll just mention the two biggies: becoming LCL on Austin’s infamous Ladera Norte climb, and the Friday Truancy ride’s spiker up the Arpdale to Cedarview Kicker.

In terms of Zwift highlights, the indoor training simulator released several enhancements. You can now capture short videos of your ride and share them directly to Strava. They added their new Climbing Portal, the Scotland world, the southern coastal road in Watopia, and introduced the Zwift Play controllers and the Repack Rush steering challenge. As mentioned above, they moved the popular double-XP Tour of Watopia to the fall, and introduced some major (and frankly asinine) changes to the XP system when they unveiled new levels 61 to 100. And there are rumors of more changes in the works.

Blogposts

Goals for 2024

Ornoth's 2023 cycling calendar/log

Ornoth’s 2023 cycling calendar/log

My 2023 Strava Year in Sport summary

My 2023 Strava Year in Sport summary

I knew that 2023 was going to be a chaotic year. Looking forward to 2024, I don’t know if I can plan on it being much better. I’m still learning about Austin and what is gonna work for me here, so most of my goals remain pretty vague.

More 100k and Century Rides

For various reasons, I haven’t done as many event rides as I hoped, so next year I’d like to do more. There’ll probably be another Livestrong ride, and I’m hoping to do the two-day Texas MS Ride in April, and possibly a repeat of the Fire Ant metric. Instead of limiting myself primarily to 100-mile events, as I’ve done previously, I’m thinking of signing up for more 100-kilometer rides, which seem more prevalent and feasible for a sixty year old riding in Texas heat.

Find My Group Ride Niche

I just don’t fit anywhere in Austin’s group ride scene, which is mostly divided between flat-out hammerfests for active racers, and short, plodding social rides for non-athletes. I’m hoping someday I’ll find a ride that splits the difference, much like Pittsburgh’s Team Decaf ride or Boston’s old Quad Cycles rides. There’s got to be more mid-tier endurance and charity riders like me in this area; but where are they?

A Big Pan-Mass Challenge

2024 is kind of a big year for both me and the PMC. It will be the organization’s 45th ride, and they will celebrate surpassing the immense and impressive $1 billion fundraising threshold. For myself, it would be my 18th ride, and bring my own fundraising to over $125,000. And it’d be my first PMC as a sixty year old.

I’m committed to ride, but still stumped by what it will look like. A 300 KM solo ride in August heat doesn’t sound very feasible. I’d consider returning to Boston for the in-person ride, but that’s impossibly expensive, between airfare, hotels, car rental, and transporting my bike. Plus the $6,000+ fundraising minimum is far beyond my current ability, and I’ll have to personally cover any shortfall. I could extend my Livestrong Challenge weekend riding while fundraising for the PMC instead of the Livestrong Foundation… But that’d be in October, rather than on the traditional PMC weekend in August.

There’s just no good option, but the decision needs to be made now, as the traditional PMC route will sell out before the end of January. I wish there was a better choice.

Conclusion

So 2023 was a mixed bag. I turned sixty, said goodbye to my beloved primary bike, was off the bike for three months, skipped the PMC, and only attempted one imperial century. But I also had fun exploring my new town, rode with Team Kermit, got a snazzy new bike, new GPS, a cordless massager, and lots more.

After less than a year, my settling into the Austin scene is far from complete, so that process will be ongoing. I’m looking forward to finding more people, places, and events to enjoy in 2024. Stay tuned to hear how it goes!

I was 35 years old when I started my adult cycling career. In those early years, my rapidly-growing cycling fitness more than compensated for any loss of overall fitness that came as I aged.

As the years passed, my cycling fitness reached a stable plateau, while the effects of aging slowly but consistently gained momentum. But I wasn’t worried; throughout my forties I could easily keep up with riders ten years younger.

But when I turned 50, I noticed it took increasingly more effort to keep up with the kids. And now that I’m 60 years old, I have to admit that I’m simply not keeping up with them anymore, and never will again, no matter how hard I train.

So in case you’re on that same career path, here’s a few observations about my experience as an aging cyclist.

It’s easiest to see in the numbers. It wasn’t as linear as the “220 minus age” formula implies, but my max heart rate has dropped significantly over the past 15 years, from 175+ down to 160. And the inevitable loss of muscle mass has been reflected in my FTP and other measurements of power output like sprinting duration and max power.

The media always invokes the idea that we need more recovery time after hard efforts as we age. For me, that manifests mostly in my ability to do repeated bursts of high-intensity effort within a ride. I don’t feel I need more recovery time between rides; if I need more time for anything after a hard ride, it’s for my motivation to recover! And of course the standard prescription for maintaining fitness as we age is to continue doing severely painful intensity workouts. Ugh!

One generalization I can confirm is that as I’ve aged, my sleep cycle has become shorter and less refreshing. Gotta start embracing the nap, although they’ve always left me feeling nauseous afterward.

Another change is that I’m less willing to tolerate bad weather. I’m good with heat, but I’m kind of done thinking that riding in the cold is any fun. Doubly so for rain, and the annoying cleanup routine that follows a wet ride. Yes, it can be done; no, I don’t think it’s worth it anymore.

But once you’re out on the road on a nice day, what does riding “over the hill” feel like? It feels like having one of those days where you’re not performing at your best… every single day! Whether it’s heavy legs or lack of aerobic fitness, it always feels as if there’s something limiting me. There aren’t many of those strong days when you’re at peak fitness and everything comes effortlessly.

Instead of looking forward to hills as a place to attack your group, you begin to fear them as places where you’ll fall behind the group. And they drop you more frequently on those climbs… and on the flats… and on descents. You still participate in group rides, but you wind up isolated and riding by yourself much of the time.

You get discouraged on group rides, because you’re the last person to each rest stop, which means you always get the least rest before the group sets out again, despite being the person who needs recovery the most. So you give up on the group and spend more time doing solo rides.

That’s what it’s like. I’ve had an undeniable drop-off in physiological performance due to aging. But at the same time, psychologically I’m just less willing to tolerate the suffering inherent in high-intensity, maximal efforts. To keep up with other riders, I have to spend more and more of my time riding at my limit, and it’s harder and harder to marshal the motivation to spend long hours riding at that limit.

While I was slowly getting older, I spent 25 amazing years near the front of the pack. Now that I’m 60 years old, that’s simply no longer a possibility. It’s time to set ego aside and get used to being one of the slower riders that other people have to wait for. It’s either that, or ride solo, which is something I’ve always done quite a lot of.

While I may not be the strongest cyclist in the pack any more, I still have the advantage of being significantly healthier than my sedentary age-group peers. And I still have as much passion for cycling as I’ve ever had. The bottom line is that I need to accept my reduced capabilities, adjust my goals to match them, find groups that will tolerate them, and just ride on.

May the road before you be a long, enjoyable one!

2022 began poorly. For the second year in a row, my winter training was interrupted by worrying chest pains, and also a lengthy scouting trip to Austin in April.

However, the majority of 2022 was pretty satisfying. Another year brought another incremental step toward normality following the Covid-19 pandemic. I got to enjoy many of the major events that Covid had interrupted, although I missed some opportunities due to weather and other considerations. As summer turned to fall, I was pretty pleased with how my season had gone.

Ornoth and the Allegheny River, with the downtown Pittsburgh skyline in the background.

Ornoth and the Allegheny River, with the downtown Pittsburgh skyline in the background.

The FTP test that set off my January chest pain and interrupted my training.

The FTP test that set off my January chest pain and interrupted my training.

The first Team Decaf group ride of 2022 at the Point State Park fountain.

The first Team Decaf group ride of 2022 at the Point State Park fountain.

Four friends' ride out to Sewickley, with Suraj, Ornoth, Ben, and Oscar.

Four friends' ride out to Sewickley, with Suraj, Ornoth, Ben, and Oscar.

Ornoth modeling the 2022 PMC Jersey with downtown Pittsburgh as a backdrop.

Ornoth modeling the 2022 PMC Jersey with downtown Pittsburgh as a backdrop.

But the year also ended abruptly. I spent some time off the bike in November, recovering from saddle sores and a tooth extraction, and that was followed by another two-week trip to Austin over Thanksgiving to secure housing. My early winter training was crowded out by the hectic insanity of packing up house in preparation for our move, which is currently in-process. Really… We said goodbye to all our belongings – including my bikes and indoor trainer – on Wednesday, and won’t see them again for a couple weeks!

2022 was a pleasant return to my “normal” summertime routine. However, it might be the last year I’ll enjoy the standard six-month summer cycling season I’ve always been accustomed to. I expect the seasonality of my riding might look somewhat different once I set my wheels down in Austin!

My Original 2022 Goals

As always, let’s begin with how well I achieved the goals I set out for myself when 2022 began…

Go 100% metric

My big New Years resolution was to go fully metric, and that was surprisingly easy. It was like learning a new language, but one with only a couple dozen words and prefixes, so it quickly became familiar to me, to the annoyance of my life partner.

Another 10,000 KM year

My January chest pains and our April travel immediately put me behind the pace I needed to ride 10,000 kilometers in 2022. And my late-year health issues, November travel, and packing meant this goal just couldn’t be met. But I still racked up a thoroughly enjoyable 8,000 KM.

While I’m on that topic, I should mention that 61% of that distance was outdoors, making 2002 the first year since 2019 that I’ve ridden more outside than I did indoors on Zwift!

More major events

This year I enjoyed several events that had been suspended or shortened in recent years due to Covid. In addition to 18 weekly Team Decaf group rides, I returned to the Absolutely Beautiful Country ride, the PMTCC 3-State Century, Pedal the Lakes, and Pittsburgh’s Every Neighborhood Ride. But travel, weather, and cancellations meant I still missed several annual favorites.

Video ride reports

I expected to put together a handful of ride videos this year, following last year’s purchase of a new GoPro action camera. Unfortunately, videos are a lot of work to assemble and put together, so I wound up doing just one 7-minute video for my “reimagined” 2022 Pan-Mass Challenge ride. Still, the GoPro was handy to carry around to capture still photos.

Although not full ride reports, I did capture and post a few brief video clips. Strava began allowing users to attach short videos to their activities, so I took advantage of that cool new feature several times.

Another remote PMC?

Although I attended 21 consecutive PMC group rides on Zwift over the winter, I delayed registering for my 17th Pan-Mass Challenge – my third riding remotely – due to my chest pains. At the last minute, the event I’d planned this year’s ride around changed its date, and then wet weather caused me to do a 130 KM indoor ride on Saturday, followed by a 170 KM outdoor century up to Butler and back. It wasn’t the ride I’d planned for, but it was still fun, and I raised another $4,500 for cancer research and treatment.

Zwift team time trial?

Although a TTT has been on my radar for several years, I’ve always been stymied by the chest pains that come when I push myself to my maximum. Needless to say, it was absolutely not happening this year. I might just have to let this one go.

Bike repairs?

My worn chainrings have become a huge issue, causing frequent chain drops when trying to sprint, but my options for fixing them remain very limited. All the bike shops I’ve gone to have told me the only thing I can do is scour Ebay for used, second-hand parts, which I’m reluctant to do.

I could, of course, replace my entire bike. I’d rather not do that because I really love my R2-Di2, and would rather keep riding it. But after our impending move, this might be something I can look into in the next year or so, once I know exactly what kind of riding I’ll be doing in our new location.

Charts

Every year I post and discuss my training and fitness as measured by my Chronic Training Load (CTL). That’s nice, but I update these charts after every ride, and I thought it might be cool to share that up-to-date data. So this year I added constantly-updated charts to a pinned/sticky post that will always appear at the top of my cycling blog. So now you can see how my year is going anytime you want, here.

But let’s talk about how my 2022 performance compares to previous years. Here’s the chart:

Cycling Fitness: 2011-2022

While it looks like a pretty good year, I never reached the same level of fitness I had in the previous three years. That’s because I started ramping up my training a lot later in the year, thanks to taking time off for chest pains and our trip to Texas. That was followed by a great summer, but I tailed off pretty quickly toward the end of the year due to health and relocation.

Now let’s zoom in on this year in more detail:

Cycling Fitness: 2022 Calendar Year (vs. average)

Here you can really see how much my fitness declined in January, and then again during that April trip to Austin. But after training back up in May and June, I enjoyed a productive summer, with six century-plus rides (the red dots). And note how my fitness plummeted due to health issues in October, travel in November, and packing and moving in December.

Still, six centuries is two more than I did last year. Let’s talk about those…

The Centuries

Rolling through flat, exposed Ohio farmland on the Akron Bike Club's ABC Century ride.

Rolling through flat, exposed Ohio farmland on the Akron Bike Club's ABC Century ride.

What passes for a Pittsburgh sunrise over Lake Wilhelm before setting out on the 2022 PtL ride.

What passes for a Pittsburgh sunrise over Lake Wilhelm before setting out on the 2022 PtL ride.

Ornoth & Phil at Tomlinson Run SP in West Virginia during the 3-State Century.

Ornoth & Phil at Tomlinson Run SP in West Virginia during the 3-State Century.

Ornoth & Phil receive their finishers' medals following the 3-State Century.

Ornoth & Phil receive their finishers' medals following the 3-State Century.

My new Garmin Rally XC200 power meter pedals!

My new Garmin Rally XC200 power meter pedals!

In addition to being two more than last year’s total, none of this year’s six centuries were simulated on the indoor trainer. I hadn’t done six or more outdoor centuries in one year since the good old days before Covid (2019)! And now I haven’t done an indoor “Zentury” in nearly two years (March 2021)!

Not that it was all great. The only reason why I didn’t do an early-season “Zentury” was because of my chest pain. Then I wanted to do the Pittsburgh Randonneurs 200k, but was away in Austin that weekend. I wasn’t trained up enough to do June’s two-day Escape to the Lake. I was rained out of doing my first Sunday in June. The Tour of Mercer County cancelled its century route due to insufficient registrants. The cursed Mon Valley Century cancelled yet again. And the Rough Diamond century on PMC weekend both changed its date on me, and then got rained out!

But neither you nor future-me want to read about rides I didn’t do, so let’s celebrate the long rides that did come off.

5/31: Bunola solo
This familiar route was an important test of both my cardiac health as well as my delayed training. I enjoyed the summery weather, but I really suffered from lack of form.

7/10: Absolutely Beautiful Country
Six weeks later, I drove to Ohio for one of my favorites – the ABC ride – which I last rode back in 2019. The weather was stellar, and my performance felt pretty normal. My only disappointment was that my power meter decided to conk out for the last 30 KM.

7/31: PMTCC 3 State Century
My friend Phil always seems to be my constant companion for this ride, and so it was in 2022. The day was temperate and a bit grey, providing (for once) unchallenging weather. It was a pleasant ride up until about 10 KM from the finish, when it started to drizzle. And then I pinch-flatted on a poorly-set railroad crossing on our finishing loop. But we made repairs and finished the ride.

8/7: Butler solo Reimagined Pan-Mass Challenge
I’d planned my “Reimagined” PMC as the Rough Diamond century on Saturday, but when they moved the date, I was left with no specific plan. When it rained on Saturday, I decided to do a shorter ride indoors, then made up the lost distance with a full outdoor century on a slightly-drier Sunday, using the familiar route up to Butler and back. It wasn’t the ride I’d hoped for, but it was successful enough.

9/3: Pedal the Lakes
Another ride I hadn’t done since 2019, the PtL route had been largely redesigned, broken into 50 and 110 KM loops. It wound up being an overcast, solitary ride, but pleasant, and I finished in exactly seven hours.

10/8: Every Neighborhood Ride
My final century was the always-challenging ENR, which I last rode back in 2018. I rode with the slower group and enjoyed a much less taxing ride. Between the pace, rest stops, and extending it to a full century, it was a 12-hour marathon. It seems appropriate that ENR was my last century before leaving Pittsburgh.

Noteworthy Purchases

This year’s most noteworthy addition has to be my Garmin Rally power meter pedals. I’ve wanted an SPD pedal-based power meter for many years, and I’m delighted with these.

A smaller but memorable change was when I got new brake pads, after suffering three straight flat tires when my worn, misaligned old pads wore through the sidewall of my tire! Gotta remember to keep an eye on that!

I also picked up the Fanttik Apex battery-powered tire inflator, mostly for our car’s steady leaks, but it also came with a Presta valve. However, its compressor is way too loud for indoor use, so I’ll probably only use it to top off before rides I’ve driven to, rather than packing my floor pump.

And I finally picked up something I’ve thought about for a long time: white brake hood covers! I’ll put these on next spring with some new white bar tape. Unfortunately, it doesn’t look quite as good as when I still had my bike’s stock white saddle, but maybe that can be switched up, too, depending on how long the R2-Di2 continues to be my primary vehicle.

Does a cardboard bike box and movers count as purchases? Perhaps not, but this is the first time I’ve ever had to box and ship a bike. Stay tuned to see whether that winds up being a success or a tragedy!

Additional Highlights

I’ve written enough about my chest pains interrupting my early-season training.

Aside from that, this year’s overarching theme has been enjoying my last season in Pittsburgh. But return visits are expected, due to intolerable Texas summers and Inna’s mother still living in Pittsburgh.

This year I was very consistent: I rode almost every single Tuesday, either the Team Decaf outdoor group rides or indoor PMC rides. I only missed a couple weeks, usually because I was in Austin at the time.

I was also pleased when a small riding crew spontaneously formed with locals Ben, Gary, Suraj, and Oscar. But it was also a year marred by friends having big crashes: Ben on a trip to Toronto, Suraj coming off multiple times, and a woman being seriously hurt on one of the Decaf rides.

Another big development was finally moving my blogs off Russian-owned Livejournal. As you know, my cycling blog now lives at https://ornoth-cycling.dreamwidth.org/ and also has a sticky post with my up-to-the-minute fitness charts.

In other social networking news, I started posting short videos of up to 30 seconds on Strava, and started using the ActivityFix plugin to automate some previously manual tasks when I post. And I started moving my fitness data over to the Elevate app rather than the browser plugin, which is being de-emphasized.

I did manage to assemble a video ride report for this year’s PMC ride. Although I haven’t used it yet, I also learned how to synchronize and overlay data from my bike computer on top of video, which could be fun and useful in some circumstances.

And there have been developments on the indoor training front, too. Zwift recently added roads in a new region called Urukazi, which is modeled after Japan’s Ryukyu Islands, and they’ve said that a small Scotland expansion will arrive in the next month or two. Another major update was their release of Levels 51 to 60, and I advanced to Level 53 on my last ride of the year. That also came with some new “fire socks” that leave a cool trail of fire during hard sprints. And I also unlocked the rider jersey from the “Long Riders” cycling anime series.

And then there was a final goodbye to the Plastic Bullet, my first road bike, which saw me through 30 centuries and seven PMCs.

Blogposts

Goals for 2023

Ornoth's 2022 cycling calendar/log.

Ornoth's 2022 cycling calendar/log.

My 2022 Strava "Year in Sport" summary, averaging 22 kilometers per day.

My 2022 Strava "Year in Sport" summary, averaging 22 kilometers per day.

That pretty much covers 2022. What does 2023 hold? Thanks to the move, I have almost no idea! But here’s a couple aspirational guesses:

Moving and Orienting in Austin

This will be a chaotic year, for sure. I’ll be trying to orient in a new city and region, trying to find riding friends, group rides, and some noteworthy major events. I’ll be dealing with Texas heat, belligerent redneck drivers, and SUV-centric roadway design. And I expect my usual seasonality to get all screwed up. After all, Texas presents the possibility of riding more through the winter, but will perhaps force me to ride less in the summer, reversing my usual annual riding pattern!

I certainly won’t be committing to any 10,000 KM distance goal this year, and might even find my time taken up by gainful employment for the first time in years. And then there’s also the possibility that I might go and buy myself a new steed, or at least repair the old one. The move is going to be the biggest change my 22-year cycling career has ever seen.

And for the Yinzers in the audience… Just getting out of our new house’s cul-de-sac is a short 15-20% climb, and there’s a certifiable Dirty Dozen-difficulty hill called Ladera Norte (“North Slope” in Spanish) just 4km from home . So I can’t throw those Pittsburgh climbing legs away just yet!

18th Pan-Mass Challenge and $125,000

Even my remote participation in this year’s PMC is in question. Will Texas provide a suitable outdoor course and tolerable weather – and will I be ready to fundraise and ride it – in August heat? I have absolutely no idea! But I’m on the threshold of $125,000 in lifetime fundraising for cancer research, which is a tempting milestone.

And perhaps a summer trip back to Boston might be in order sometime… although the traditional route’s $6,000+ fundraising minimum would be nearly impossible to meet.

Zwift Level 60

How much use will my indoor trainer get over an Austin winter? Or summer? I have absolutely no idea! But I do know that I’ll continue doing the weekly PMC virtual training rides and progressing toward Zwift’s new peak: Level 60.

Health and Turning 60

While I’m here expressing my hopes for 2023, how about just getting through the year without a cardiac scare or other health issues such as dental surgery, saddle sores, calf pain, whatever… While aging comes with inevitable limitations and loss of performance, it’d be nice to enjoy a healthy last summer before I turn the big six-oh. And maybe I should start giving some thought to how I want to spend this milestone birthday…

Conclusion

R2-Di2 at Mon Wharf with river tug hauling coal barges beneath the Fort Pitt Bridge.

R2-Di2 at Mon Wharf with river tug hauling coal barges beneath the Fort Pitt Bridge.

2022 saw the end of a seven year long chapter in Pittsburgh. I won’t try to summarize my time in Western PA; you need only read backwards through my blog to review those experiences. The cycling here has been superlative in both positive and less-positive ways, but in both cases it’s certainly been memorable, and I’m happy to have met some good people and gotten so much use of the topography of Western PA.

As the calendar transitions to a new year, I find myself making an immense, intimidating, and exciting change as Inna and I relocate to Austin. I hope you’ll stay tuned and continue to share this road with me!

Sunday was my third century of the year – the PMTCC 3-State Century – and for the first time in five tries, it wasn’t boiling hot. My previous editions were in 2016, 2017, 2019, and 2021.

I left the house at 5:45 to get to Neville Island for check-in and a planned 7am depart. It was a pleasant 17° and overcast, and I chatted with riding buddies Phil and Gary and Oscar as we waited for the group to roll out.

Ornoth & Phil at Tomlinson Run SP

Ornoth & Phil at Tomlinson Run SP

Phil, Ornoth, & Gary at the start

Phil, Ornoth, & Gary at the start

Phil on Longs Run Rd

Phil on Longs Run Rd

Ornoth & Phil receive their finishers' medals!

Ornoth & Phil receive their finishers' medals!

Immediately after crossing the Ohio River backchannel into Coraopolis, the shorter metric century riders split off from the few of us who were doing the full imperial century. Although the organizers said there were fourteen registered, our initial group numbered just seven – including Phil and I – and that was reduced by one when the sole woman in our group fell off the pace on the first climb.

The first leg was identical to last year’s route, featuring a stupidly hilly 22 KM loop up the ridge into Moon and back down a screaming descent back to Coraopolis before going downriver a bit and climbing right back up and over the ridge to the first rest stop.

We pulled in with 40 KM complete in 2¼ hours. I shed my arm warmers, hit the porta-potty, downed some chips, and the only sport drink they had on hand: Gatorade Zero. Why the hell would you offer a zero-calorie sport drink on a hundred mile bike ride?

After the rest stop came the first of two route changes for this year. Instead of staying on Route 151 / Bocktown Road, the route took Longs Run Road, a back road that paralleled it for about 6 KM. It was heavily wooded and scenic, with huge imposing cliffs looming over the road at one point, but much of it had degraded into loose gravel, so it was slow going on a road bike.

We returned to Bocktown Road briefly before turning onto busy Route 30 and passing the highest point on the route, which was followed by the second, larger change from last year. Last year we left Route 30 and cut across West Virginia to New Cumberland and then up the Ohio River; this year we didn’t quite go that far, instead riding down Gas Valley Road to Tomlinson Run State Park, then riding back up to Route 30.

The transition from Pennsylvania’s terrible roads into West Virginia was just as noticeable as last year, although the roads inside the state park were still pretty bad. We circumnavigated the pond that was the park’s central feature and I got a selfie with Phil (top), whom I’d been riding with all morning. We made our way back up to Route 30 and had just started down to screaming descent into Chester WV when I took a big, black bug right on the bridge of the nose.

We pulled into the “World’s Largest Teapot” rest stop at 10:47am with 82 KM complete. We were making good time and it was still only 22° and windless, making for ideal riding, even if the lack of sun made it less than spectacular visually. Like last year, all the climbing came in the first half of the ride, so it would all be flat and easy on the back half as we made our way upstream along the Ohio River. We had leapfrogged the other four century riders from time to time, and since the metric riders had passed through earlier, there weren’t many other riders behind us. Unfortunately, the rest stop was out of everything but water, which is just about the only thing that could be worse than Gatorade Zero!

The third segment featured the same terrifying crossing high over the Ohio River on the decrepit Newell Toll Bridge as last year. The less said about that the better; if you’re curious, go back and read last year’s ride report. I want to block it out of my memory as quickly as humanly possible. Then 8 KM of lousy Ohio roads were followed by 7 KM of terrible Pennsylvania roads before we pulled into the Subway lunch stop in Midland PA. It was 11:50am and I felt it could begin sprinkling at any minute. I dumped the water out of my bidon and replaced it with cola, downed a small meatball sub, and wistfully deferred getting a Dilly Bar from the Dairy Queen that shared the building.

From there it was up along River Ave in Beaver and back across the river into Monaca. After a two-minute rest we headed down the high-speed Route 51 highway, where Phil did a good portion of the pulling. I was just starting to feel the effort in my knees and neck, but was only just starting to tire. Then back across the river into Ambridge and our final rest stop at Sweetwater Bikes. We’d covered 133 KM in 6½ hours, and it was still a pleasant 25°, although we’d felt the first sprinkles as we were crossing the bridge. A mini cinnamon bite and more pointless Gatorade Zero, and we were back on the road.

The drizzle kept coming off and on as we made our way through Sewickley, across the Ohio once more into Coraopolis, then back across the backchannel to Neville Island and our starting point. But we were far from done. In order to add mileage, the official route did a big extra 9 KM loop around the heavily-industrialized island. But even then, we’d still be short of the official 100-mile mark, so Phil and I planned to keep going until we could claim an official century, even if the rain had picked up and we were both wet and dirty.

And so, with just 8 KM left to go, I found myself rolling along at speed, crossing the fourth or fifth set of train tracks on the island. But this one crossing featured big, wide, deep rail beds. I tried to jump the gaping holes, but you can’t jump three sets of rails, and I came down and hit the edge of one of the cement rail beds hard, causing a slowly-leaking pinch flat.

Fifteen minutes of wet, grimy work later, Phil and I had replaced and re-inflated my rear inner tube, after discovering that my spare tube was defective. Between the rain and my flat, it was a frustrating end to what had otherwise been a good day. We finished the “official” route by going back to the start, where I pulled my floor pump out of the car and topped up my tire while Phil got our finishers’ medals from the organizers.

Then we set off for a second loop around the island to complete our century. The sprinkles had stopped and the roads were drying out. We ticked over 100 miles almost exactly at the place I’d flatted on our previous circuit, then rolled back to the cars to pack up and head home. 164 KM at a 24.4 KM moving average and 1,524 meters of climbing. Although we’d completed the ride in 6:43 moving time, it was 3:15pm, so we’d been gone nearly 8¼ hours of clock time thanks to my flat, the long stops, the climbing, and the rain.

Thanks to the moderate temperatures, I finished feeling very comfortable and strong, which bodes well for next weekend’s remote Pan-Mass Challenge rides. My only physical complaint is a blister I gained on top of my left foot, which was probably due to irritation from my cycling sandals combined with rain and road grit. I’ll have to care for that over the coming week.

I will say that I’m noticeably slower this year, especially while ascending, which is understandably frustrating, but not the end of the world, considering how scarily the year started. There was always going to come a time when I stopped being able to keep up with the pack, and it’s probably good to accept that as I approach 60 years of age.

And with that, the stage is set for next weekend’s “remote” Pan-Mass Challenge. Even at this late date – the ride is in four days – I’m still trying to work out what my ride will look like. This is a very busy week, and I’m nervous about both the weather and the course. Hopefully I’ll be able to relax and be flexible enough to let the ride be a positive experience.

And, of course, if you have not yet supported my ride by making a donation to the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute, I’d be delighted if you could contribute something. While the actual ride looms large in my mind right now, the most important thing is advancing cancer research and treatment: a cause I’ve been riding for since 2001. Please give here.

Judged against other years, my 2021 cycling season wasn’t bad. It was a refreshing return to a rough approximation of normality after the Covid-19 pandemic mostly cancelled the 2020 season.

In 2021, I enjoyed my first group rides, first centuries, and first major organized event in two years. I also achieved a new record level of fitness, reached Zwift’s maximum experience level, rode my 100th lifetime century, and completed my 16th Pan-Mass Challenge.

Summarized that way, it’s actually a hard year to beat! But I’ve got plenty more to say about it…

Modeling the 2021 PMC jersey in downtown Pittsburgh.

Modeling the 2021 PMC jersey in downtown Pittsburgh.

The first post-Covid Team Decaf group ride

The first post-Covid Team Decaf group ride

Ornoth & Phil overlooking the Ohio River during the Three-State century.

Ornoth & Phil overlooking the Ohio River during the Three-State century.

I completed 42 stages of Zwift's Tour of Watopia.

I completed 42 stages of Zwift's Tour of Watopia.

Banner for achieving Level 50 in Zwift.

Banner for achieving Level 50 in Zwift.

Celebrated completing another Pan-Mass Challenge, backed by my 16 PMC jerseys.

Celebrated completing another Pan-Mass Challenge, backed by my 16 PMC jerseys.

My Original 2021 Goals

A year ago, in the midst of the pandemic and with vaccines just starting to be manufactured, my goals for 2021 were only guesses. However, my predictions were pretty accurate.

Normality

I wanted to be comfortable stopping at convenience stores, so I could resume longer rides than I could on a single water bottle. Following my vaccinations in May, I finished a metric century on June 12th (writeup), and many more long rides thereafter.

I also longed to resume attending group rides, and did my first weekly Team Decaf ride on June 1 (writeup). Over the summer I’d join 14 of their 17 rides.

I wanted to return to my normal major events and century rides. However, most organizers shortened or cancelled their events. And after foregoing one century due to rain, I completed my first big event in two years on September 12: the PMTCC Three-State Century (writeup).

I also addressed my imbalance between indoor and outdoor riding. In 2020, 81% of my total 6,043 miles happened indoors. In 2021, I rode 6,215 miles (10,000 kilometers), and only 56% were on the trainer: a much healthier balance!

Zwift Level 50

After 2½ years, my biggest achievement to chase on Zwift was the game’s top experience level. In April I rode 42 (!) stages of the Tour of Watopia (since it offers double XP) and achieved Level 50 on April 27th, simultaneously setting an all-time fitness record (writeup).

But the cost for riding 860 miles in one month was a case of achilles tendonitis that kept me off the bike for the month of May. Oopsie!

Another Virtual PMC?

After riding all winter with several Pan-Mass Challenge luminaries on Zwift, I rode a second remote PMC, mimicking the distance and climbing of the traditional route. And happily rode outdoors instead of on the trainer!

Although different from the mass participation rides back in Massachusetts, I still enjoyed it, and raised 60% more for cancer research than last year. After 16 PMCs, my lifetime fundraising for Dana-Farber stands at $119,000! (writeup)

And my PMC fulfilled another of my annual goals:

My 100th Century+ Ride

This was the highlight of my year. I wanted to mark this achievement on a major organized ride, however that wasn’t possible. But even though I rode alone, finishing my lifetime 100th century+ on PMC weekend made it special. Read more toward the bottom of my PMC writeup.

Toronto Epic Tour Redux?

My registration for this 2020 ride – planned as a Herd cycling club gathering – was deferred to 2021, but with travel still inadvisable, I took the 50% refund they offered.

Which was fine; the 2021 Epic Tour was held on the same day as the PMTCC Three-State Century, which I rode instead, marking my first major event in two years.

Charts

This year’s fitness charts include a couple significant changes.

First: the static charts you see below are now available on a dynamic Fitness Charts page on my cycling website. They’re automatically updated after every ride to reflect my training throughout the year.

Second: the vertical scale changed on these charts to accommodate my new record fitness. For five years, my CTL (chronic training load) fit onto a vertical axis that ran from 0 to 100, but it now goes to 125, making everything look a little flatter than my previous summaries.

Let’s see what the charts say about my year:

Cycling Fitness: 2011-2021

This 11-year view shows that 2021 was incredibly similar to 2020. Let’s break down the similarities.

Both years began with steady winter training, ramping up to an early peak. In both years those were new fitness records.

However, in both years my fitness then fell quite substantially, dropping back to my long-term average at the end of May.

Over the summers, I maintained my level of fitness. My CTL followed a repeating up-and-down sawtooth pattern as I alternately trained hard, then tapered before major events, then completed a big ride, and recovered afterward. That pattern repeats all summer long.

As usual, my fitness tailed off in the autumn and I took time to recharge before another winter of indoor training.

Those are the similarities between 2020 and 2021. Zooming into this year’s chart in detail highlights some of the differences.

Cycling Fitness: 2021 Calendar Year (vs. average)

In 2020 I reached max fitness in January, whereas this year I timed my buildup a lot better, not peaking until the end of April.

The bad news: this year I lost as much fitness in the single month of May as I lost over four months in 2020, as tendonitis kept me from riding. That’s how I wound up back at the same point on June 1st.

However, another difference is that my fitness throughout this year was about 5% higher than 2020.

Which brings me back to that new fitness record, with my CTL reaching 103.97. Although it has no specific significance, breaking 100 CTL was a long-anticipated achievement, which only happened after my 860-mile blitz in April to reach Level 50 in Zwift.

But the biggest difference this year was how many centuries I completed. After doing 11 indoor centuries in 2020, this year I only did 4 (but three were outdoors)! So let’s talk about:

Riding with PMC President Jarrett Collins in the weekly Zwift group ride.

Riding with PMC President Jarrett Collins in the weekly Zwift group ride.

Proudly showing off the new in-game PMC jersey in Zwift.

Proudly showing off the new in-game PMC jersey in Zwift.

Sunrise on the castle climb in Zwift's new Japan-themed world.

Sunrise on the castle climb in Zwift's new Japan-themed world.

Enjoying the view from a rooftop ride in Zwift's new Neokyo expansion.

Enjoying the view from a rooftop ride in Zwift's new Neokyo expansion.

The Centuries

Starting with the unadorned list:

There are several reasons why I completed only four rides beyond 100 miles.

After doing 11 of them in 2020, I was sick and tired of indoor centuries, so I only did one of those. Solo centuries didn’t excite me, so I completed my PMC ride, plus one other. And Covid limited me to one major event.

I wasn’t motivated to push myself hard, following an intense two years that included 24 centuries (12 indoor/12 outdoor) and 12,600 total miles. After all that, I needed a relaxed year.

But it could also be… aging. Having another year on the odometer, my tolerance for high-intensity efforts is waning. Of course, I’ll continue fighting it, but I don’t relish the effort, since we know how that story inevitably ends.

Additional Highlights

Since indoor riding made up half my mileage, I’ll share a couple noteworthy developments on Zwift.

I began the year as a regular on weekly Pan-Mass Challenge group rides on Zwift that were led by Jarrett Collins, the newly-named PMC President. Those were suspended over the summer, but resumed in November.

To everyone’s delight, Jarrett got Zwift to approve an in-game PMC jersey that riders can unlock for their avatars to wear. The design honors the red tee shirts from the first Pan-Mass Challenge, in 1980. It quickly replaced the Zwift “Level 50” jersey I’d previously preferred!

Zwift also released a major new world called Makuri Islands. The fictionalized version of Japan was released in two phases: “Yumezi” features rural Japanese villages and countryside, and “Neokyo” is a neon-lit urban analogue to Tokyo. Both were well-received, but everyone’s holding their breath, hoping that a Mt. Fuji-like climb will materialize.

In the real world, health issues remained top-of-mind. May was torpedoed by achilles tendonitis, heart palpitations, and Covid vaccinations. I also addressed a longstanding irritation by swapping out my saddle (writeup). Seasonal asthma slowed my autumn riding, and aging-related performance declines remain an annoyance.

Another challenge was getting replacement bike parts due to the collapse of the bike industry’s supply chains in the pandemic’s wake, as well as Mavic’s receivership. My LBS jerry-rigged my recalcitrant rear wheel, but I can’t put high power through the pedals due to worn chainrings that I can’t replace.

Finally, in 2021 I gathered a collection of Strava Local Legend awards, which go to whomever has ridden a road segment most frequently. Here’s some of the segments I was named Local Legend on this year:

Riverview Park is the center of Pittsburgh's cycling universe.

Riverview Park is the center of Pittsburgh's cycling universe.

The Team Decaf group ride stops to admire the Pittsburgh skyline from the Fineview overlook.

The Team Decaf group ride stops to admire the Pittsburgh skyline from the Fineview overlook.

Noteworthy Purchases

Despite the bike industry’s disarray, I made several beneficial acquisitions.

Not a purchase, but (as mentioned above) I swapped out my extremely worn saddle for a less-used one off one of my other bikes. It’s not brand new, but don’t tell that to my butt! (writeup)

My biggest purchase was the new GoPro Hero 10 action video camera and accessories. It was too late in the year to produce much, but I have huge hopes for future rides. Tho I did create this 72-second vid:

Also on the topic of optics… Back in 2015, I bought plastic HydroTac stick-on bifocals that adhere to any pair of glasses with water: perfectly functional and cheaper than prescription sunglasses! This year I bought stronger ones and stuck ‘em on my Oakley sunglasses and some clear lenses I bought for night riding.

For evening and nighttime rides, I added a new headlight: a Niterider Lumina OLED 1200. Featuring LED bulbs and lithium batteries, it’s immensely better than my old AA-powered incandescent one. Along with the action cam, this was my best purchase of the year.

Having trouble procuring my preferred Michelin Power Endurance tires, I tried a pair of Continental GP5000s, a new model in a popular line of road tires. I like them a lot, although I miss my Michelins’ red sidewalls.

Also replaced the Shimano SM-BTR1 battery for my Di2 electronic drivetrain. After 8½ years, its original battery had lost capacity, and I needed a replacement, since they’re being discontinued.

I occasionally replace the caps on my Camelbak Podium Ice insulated water bottles due to mold. I bought four replacement lids after learning they were recently redesigned, making them easier to clean.

Finally, I got new ice cube trays. These ones are nicely-sized. I also got these thinking 2” cubes would work inside a hydration pack, but that proved unnecessary once I was vaccinated and could stop at convenience stores to refuel.

My 2021 cycling calendar/log.

My 2021 cycling calendar/log.

My 2021 Strava "Year in Sport" summary, averaging 62 minutes and 17 miles per day.

My 2021 Strava "Year in Sport" summary, averaging 62 minutes and 17 miles per day.

Blogposts

Goals for 2022

2021 was a big improvement over Covid-plagued 2020. But what will 2022 look like? I’ve got a whole checklist of idears:

  • Going 100% metric
    I’m taking the plunge. Far broader than just cycling, this impacts cooking, weather, travel, health… Don’t you think it’s about time?
  • Another 10,000 km year
    Here is where that transition begins. Having ridden 10,000 km in two of the past three years, my goal for 2022 will be to make it three out of four.
  • More major events
    Most ride organizers are resuming full-length events in 2022. I’m excited to revisit events I’ve missed since 2019.
  • Video ride reports
    It’s been eight years since my last ride video, and the GoPro should produce immensely better results. I wanna see what I can do with it.
  • Another remote PMC?
    I’ll probably sign up for a 17th Pan-Mass Challenge, again remotely. I’m awaiting the event jersey reveal, and considering potential routes. One remote possibility is a two-day, 200-mile ride crossing Western PA from south to north, ending on the shore of Lake Erie.
  • Zwift team time trial?
    I don’t race, but the Herd sponsors several teams for the WTRL team time trial series. The format is intriguing, so I’d like to try it out.
  • Bike repairs?
    This will be a concern until the bicycle industry recovers. My biggest problem is putting down sprinting power without my chain falling off my worn chainrings.

That’s 2021… It could have been better, but it was a big improvement over 2020, and there were several memorable highlights. 2021 fulfilled my hopes of getting closer to normality, and leaves us with the promise of an almost normal year as we roll into 2022.

When I moved to Pittsburgh in 2015, I didn’t bother bringing my old wheel-on indoor trainer. It was outdated technology, falling apart, and I planned to replace it after the move anyways.

But I was able to do some outdoor riding through the Pittsburgh winter, and I couldn’t bring myself to drop a boatload of cash on a replacement trainer, especially since I’d be moving to still warmer climes sometime soon.

And just like that, three years passed.

What finally spurred me to pull the trigger on a new trainer? And what conditions changed?

Wahoo KICKR CORE

First, why invest in a trainer if I still don’t have any income? Well, I’ve had the intention to do so for five years, and I have the money… I just don’t like parting with it. But I know this is something I’ll use a lot.

But will I? Why invest in a trainer if I plan to move south? Fair point. However, if there’s one thing I’ve learned living in Pittsburgh, it’s that—even when the weather’s great—sometimes you just don’t want to expend the effort of getting out of the city to get a workout in. I might not ride the trainer as much if I lived in Florida or Texas, but it would still get used, especially for fitness tests. And if not, I could always sell it to someone else!

One last question: why bother with a trainer if I’m getting old and will never be as strong or competitive as I used to be? Well, just because I’m not setting any new PRs doesn’t mean I’m giving up completely! I still want to perform at my best, and having a trainer makes it much easier to get a workout in, so that I can better retain the fitness I’ve got left.

Another thing that made the purchase easier was a big $180 discount. Each fall, awesome sports tech reviewer Ray Maker (DC Rainmaker) teams up with a sports tech dealer to offer the best sale of the year. In my case, I got a solid 20 percent discount on the Wahoo KICKR CORE: a state of the art trainer that was only announced four months ago.

The downside: the three-week wait for it to arrive. Even though his dealer stocks up for the big sale, hot new products inevitably get backordered. But eventually it arrived.

In the meantime, I dealt with other logistical issues. Downloading and reading the setup and user manual. Downloading and learning how to use the Wahoo Fitness app, the Wahoo Utility app, the Zwift app, the Zwift Companion app, and the Discord app. Buying a new cassette (gears), along with a chain whip, crescent wrench, and lockring tool to install it on the trainer (as well as for future use). Buying a floor mat, gym fan, and riser block for my front wheel. Buying a handlebar phone mount, a USB ANT+ dongle, and a USB extension cable to go with it. Setting up a television, laptop, speakers, and wireless keyboard and mouse in the new “pain cave”. Buying a membership to the Zwift MMO virtual world. So many new things to buy, set up, and learn!

Now that it’s here, what’s so great about this thing?

First, it’s a direct-drive trainer. That means you take your rear wheel off and connect the bike’s drive train directly to a set of gears on the trainer, rather than pressing a steel roller up against the rear tire, as cheaper and older trainers used to do. That takes a lot of wear and strain off the tire and wheel.

It also allows the entire contraption to be a lot quieter. A vast improvement upon older devices, now the only noise you’ll hear are the bike’s chain, gear shifts, the exercise fan I use. Even while I’m riding in the next room over, Inna is able to sleep through it.

A huge benefit to me is that most trainers now come with built-in power meters. While inexpensive heart rate monitors have been used to guide training in the past, power meters have supplanted them as the gold standard. However, power meters are pricey, so I’ve never been able to justify the expense. But now I can train with power, at least indoor.

There’s a lot to know about training with power, but my primary interest boils down to watching two numbers. Functional threshold power (FTP) is an absolute measure of how much power you can sustain on the bike for one hour (measured in watts), and is a great predictor of performance on the flat. Divide FTP by your weight to get watts per kilogram, which is an equally reliable predictor of performance when the road tilts up. These are today’s gold standard measures of cycling fitness.

To ascertain your FTP, you do a 20-minute FTP Test. But doing FTP tests sucks. The testing protocol is simple: hold the maximum power you can for 20 solid minutes. It hurts, and a lot of people puke before they finish.

It’s also error-prone, because it’s hard to guess how long you can maintain max power. Most people overestimate their ability, going out hard and running out of gas before the 20 minutes is up. Once burned, they do the opposite, keeping way too much in reserve. So how do you figure out what power you should try to hold so you can pace yourself properly?

That calls for another test: the Step Test. It’s not fun either, but it entails slightly less pain. Once you begin pedaling, the trainer gradually increases the resistance every two minutes. Continue cranking on the pedals until eventually the increased resistance causes absolute muscle failure.

I stopped my first Step Test a little after hitting 275 watts. After applying maths, my FTP—what I could hold for an hour—was around 212W, and my climbing ability was 2.72 W/kg. The Step Test only provides a rough estimate of FTP, but most importantly, it also told me I should aim to hold 223W for my 20-minute FTP Test.

Armed with that information, two days later I set out and tried to hold my average wattage above 223 for 20 excruciating minutes. I managed it for about half the test, but I found myself riding the entire test pegged at my max heart rate—not fun!—while watching my average power slowly decline. By the end of the test, I’d faded to an average of 208W, which translates to an FTP of 198W, and 2.53 W/kg: noticeably lower than the numbers I got from my earlier Step Test, but just enough to qualify for the low end of Zwift’s Category C performance level.

I’ll probably test myself every three or four months, to see how much I improve (or deteriorate) over time.

Beyond measuring power, we move into features associated with “smart trainers”. So what makes them think they’re so smart?

Orny leading a paceline in London
Orny descending a mountain in Watopia

Basically, the industry has defined communication protocols so all your devices can work together: trainers, power meters, heart rate straps, cadence and speed sensors, bike computers, electronic shifting, and phone and computer applications. One of the things they’ve done is allow other devices to control trainer resistance: allowing applications to control how hard it is to pedal on the trainer.

That permits trainers to simulate the ups and downs of riding on real roads. In “sim mode”, you can load up any real-world route, and the trainer will precisely mimic the terrain, making it harder to pedal when you reach a “hill”, and easier when you reach a descent. You can simulate any route you can map: from Tour de France stages to last August’s century to your daily commute.

This was the first thing I tested when my trainer arrived. I paired it with my bike computer and told it to re-create a short local route I rode a year ago. As I pedaled along, the trainer automatically changed resistance to reflect the descent down Greenfield to the river, up the Junction Hollow bike path, the little spiker up South Neville, thru CMU, then up and over Schenley Park on Overlook Drive.

The grade simulation worked well, and it made for an engaging workout. However, there were clear shortcomings. The bike computer didn’t display the elevation change, current incline, or total elevation gain; the closest one could get was the graphical display of the past and upcoming elevation profile, which wasn’t detailed. More annoying, the unit didn’t display my current “location” on a map, which would give a little more context to the ride and changes in resistance. While sim mode is an awesome idea, there are obvious improvements that need to be made.

If you combine a smart trainer’s sim mode with internet access, virtual reality, object modeling, and social networking, you get today’s pinnacle of indoor training technology: Zwift. Join Zwift and you’re given an on-screen cyclist avatar who moves along a virtual road in proportion to you pedaling your trainer. Ride around online versions of London, New York, Innsbruck, or Richmond VA, or even the infamous Tour de France climb up Alpe d’Huez. When your avatar reaches a hill, the smart trainer’s resistance kicks in (or off) to simulate the gradient.

Now add other riders: thousands of other riders, all pedaling their own avatars in this massively multiplayer online sufferfest. Add structured workouts, the ability to ride with friends, organized group rides, official races, milestone rewards, instant messaging and shared audio channels, and also a parallel setup for runners. It’s an immense phenomenon.

My first Zwift experiences have been positive, but not always pleasant. Although the app hasn’t crashed on me yet, my laptop has died multiple times due to (1) falling off the pedestal I’d placed it on; (2) running out of battery without warning; and (3) a touchy touchpad that causes spontaneous reboots. I was already thinking about a new laptop, but the slow frame rate on my five-year old graphics card have increased the likelihood of that expense.

So far, in addition to the Step and FTP Tests, I’ve done a 10-mile free ride; a 25-mile, 450-person Team ZBR group ride; and the extremely hilly 30-mile December Bambino Fondo, with several thousand others.

Overall I’m happy. I finally have a new indoor trainer. I can even begin training with power! And with Zwift, I’m more likely to spend time on the trainer than I would have on my own.

That leaves me with one issue I’ve struggled with since I got my first trainer a decade ago: whether to count miles ridden and time spent on the trainer as “real” riding time for statistical purposes. Back in 2009, I decided I would only count outdoor road miles, but as my indoor riding increased, I started informally keeping track of that separately. Now I’m likely to put even more miles in on the turbo, so I’ll record my indoor riding separately, but in the same level of detail as outdoors. That way I can combine the two when it’s appropriate, and keep them separate when needed.

Saturday I went to the Pan-Mass Challenge’s check presentation ceremony. Although this was my fifth year doing the ride, it was the first time I’d ever been to the check presentation.

It was, as you can imagine, very inspirational. Billy Starr, the founder of the PMC, told us that the Dana-Farber had been named one of the top four cancer hospitals in the country for the third year in a row. He also revealed that this year the PMC was able to reduce overhead so much that they were able to donate an unbelievable 99% of every dollar raised directly to the Jimmy Fund.

Edward Benz, the President of DFCI, talked about how dramatically the human genome mapping project had improved the direction of cancer research. He also reiterated his message from last year’s check presentation: “The PMC has made what we do at Dana-Farber possible. When they write the history of how cancer was conquered, the PMC will be in chapter one.”

Four veteran riders gave brief speeches. Known as the “Cyclopaths”, they are all over 70 years of age, and have done more than 20 PMC rides since joining the event back in 1984. They shared treasured memories and laughs, but the most poignant moment came when one of them shared his memory of when polio was commonplace, and its subsequent eradication. His hope was that someday our generation would be able to tell our children that there once used to be a disease known as cancer, just as his generation can now say about polio.

Ornoth and $25m

Finally, after a brief dramatic skit, this year’s check was revealed: $23 million. As a bare number, it doesn’t really mean much, but think about these facts.

  • That’s the largest sum ever raised by any athletic fundraising event anywhere.
     
  • That’s more than twice what any other US athletic fundraising event has ever donated to charity.
     
  • It’s the largest gift that the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute has ever received in its sixty-year history.
     
  • And, as is true every year, the PMC is the Jimmy Fund’s largest contributor, generating half that charity’s annual revenue.

Backed up by facts like that, it should be obvious that the PMC has a very real and tremendous impact on cancer research, treatment, and prevention. And that makes it easy for me to feel like I’m making a real and meaningful contribution to that cause.

I wasn’t brought up in a very philanthropic family, and raising money to fight cancer through the PMC is one of the few charitable things I have ever done. But the PMC has become a very, very important part of my life.

I derive a lot of satisfaction from riding, but I couldn’t do it without the financial support of my sponsors. The tremendous feeling of accomplishment and pride I take in being part of this cause and this wonderful organization is their gift to me, and I am genuinely honored by that gift.

As Billy Starr has said before, the ride is our reward for all the hard work we did fundraising. Well, I think I need to extend that, because the ride is really just a small part of it. The sense of satisfaction, pride, and accomplishment that comes with being part of an organization that does so much to combat such a horrific disease: that’s the greatest reward of doing the fundraising. And I owe my contributors thanks for blessing me with the ability to experience such incredibly meaningful and inspirational work.

Frequent topics