Last we heard from our hero, he was looking forward to an “almost normal” year. That lasted all of four days.

On January 5th I did a Step Test: the first of three rides that comprise my usual functional threshold power (FTP) testing regime, to determine my baseline fitness level. These are vomit-inducing long-duration maximum intensity efforts. If you’re doing it correctly, you should feel like you’re dying. This one went “well”, producing a respectable FTP of 218 Watts.

Ready to die on that hill

Ready to die on that hill

2022 Tour of Watopia

2022 Tour of Watopia

Buddies on the PMC group ride

Buddies on the PMC group ride

Fineview overlook

Fineview overlook

First Team Decaf group ride of 2022

First Team Decaf group ride of 2022

However, that part about dying? That was just a leetle hyperbolic. I finished that workout with two kinds of chest pain: sharp, painful contractions on my left side that went away after 24 hours, and a dull ache in the center of my chest that remained for a few days.

Having experienced heart palpitations around this time last year as well, I was so concerned that I aborted my other two planned FTP tests and backed off my training frequency, duration, and intensity.

In recent weeks I underwent a coronary CT scan which mostly gave my arteries a clean bill of heath. So I’m gradually adding frequency, duration, and intensity back into my regime to see whether my heart explodes or not.

As you might imagine, my health has been by far the biggest item of note so far this year.

Next on the list would be the power meter pedals I picked up, but I already told you about those in this blogpo.

And that’s followed by my training status, or lack thereof. To give you an idea, during this year’s Tour of Watopia I rode 600 km over 9 stages; compare that to 2021, when I rode 1,350 km and completed 42 stages!

I haven’t entered spring at such a low level of fitness since 2018, before I bought my indoor trainer and when I was demoralized after successfully completing Pittsburgh’s Dirty Dozen. You can, of course, see my minimal 2022 training graphically on my Fitness Charts page.

However I still clocked 460 km in January, 520 in February, and 740 in March, and got out on unseasonably warm days to enjoy five 50-70 km outdoor rides

During that time, I attended every one of the Tuesday night virtual group rides on Zwift organized by the Pan-Mass Challenge. The camaraderie of the shared event and cause combines with the small size of the group to provide a close-knit social environment that I really enjoy. But in the back of my mind I quietly hope that the PMC Zwift ride never becomes so big that it loses its personal feel.

Which is exactly what happened to my previous Zwift virtual cycling club, the Herd. You might remember that I drove to Michigan and rode an IRL century with them back in 2019 (blogpo). Unfortunately, what in 2018 used to be an intimate little group of a few dozen riders now numbers sixteen thousand members, and all the people I knew well have moved on. I sadly just don’t feel any connection to the club anymore, and I’ve almost entirely stopped riding with them.

As for this year’s Pan-Mass Challenge main event, I’ve delayed committing to ride until I get more clarity about my health and what I’m physically able to do. Pittsburgh’s Rough Diamond Century – an event I’ve never done – is scheduled on PMC Saturday, so that seems like a viable way to conduct my own remote PMC ride. But I’m still operating in wait-and-see mode.

Another development was my New Years resolution to go 100 percent metric in all aspects of my life. So far that’s been both successful and painless for me (but not my partner). More details on that in a blogpo on my main blog.

With less time on the bike, I have more time on my hands for other things, which included a few updates to the Zenturizer, a tool I wrote in 2020 to find virtual routes on Zwift that match the distance and climbing on any real-world route. Enhancements included moving the data to a database, supporting event-only routes, adding new routes that Zwift has added, and much more intelligent handling of point-to-point routes that aren’t continual loops.

Still, the main storyline is that 2022 has started poorly, thanks to my chest pains. But we’re finally returning to a normal post-Covid calendar of major events, mostly clumped into the traditional high season: June, July, and August. I’m hopeful that by then I’ll be able to ride them without fear.

For now, outdoor riding season has begun, including weekly Team Decaf group rides, which conveniently occupy the same day and time as the (winter-only) PMC Zwift rides. I’ve got a bit of travel to get thru, but then plan to test my health out during the month of May, to see whether I should attempt the long major events in June, July, and August.

Summer is behind us, and the 2020 cycling season (such as it was) is ending.

It’s still too early to close the books on 2020, but I can get you caught up on where things stand a couple weeks into Q4.

McCahill Park @ Squaw Run

My last post was my ride report from a September 2th indoor century: my eleventh Zwift “Zentury” of the year. At that point, I planned to simulate two more real-world centuries on the indoor trainer: the traditional autumn Pedal the Lakes ride up in Mercer County; and the Epic Tour, which was originally going to be an international gathering of Herd team members up in Toronto.

However, a week later, my eight year old MacBook Pro started acting up, necessitating its replacement, and postponing those two big indoor rides.

On the upside, my brand-new laptop bumped Zwift’s graphics quality up from “high” to “ultra”, and also increased its frame rate from 10-20 to 50-70 fps.

But the downside was that — due to Apple’s terrible hardware, software, and service — it took three weeks to get my new laptop up and running. That pause blew a hole in my Zwift-based event plan, while my training and fitness levels dropped.

Meanwhile, I reconsidered whether I wanted to do those rides this late in the season. After eleven century-plus rides in seven months, I’m happy taking a break and doing a few shorter rides outdoors, before dwindling sunlight and autumn temps take hold.

Stopping also makes sense for next year’s plan. You see, as far as I can tell from my records, I’ve completed 97 century-plus bike rides. By ending the season now, I can save two indoor Zenturies for next season's preparation, then do a celebratory outdoor 100th century in the spring. That sounds great to me!

So with no more big rides, I’ve been toodling around on short outdoor rides, enjoying the warm weather and my remaining cycling fitness. Like last year, October and November will comprise my “off-season”, before I go back to indoor trainer workouts in December and January.

Having completed only one outdoor ride longer than 40 miles, 2020 has been a very strange year, but not uneventful. Although many of my achievements have been virtual or simulated, I kept at it, and retained good fitness for my age, despite the ongoing Coronavirus lockdown.

Now it’s time to relax and reflect: putting words and images together for my end-of-year wrapup blogpo, and adding next year’s big rides onto my cycling calendar.

Over the years I’ve collected a huge number of cycling jerseys. Some are purely utilitarian, but most have some personal meaning, whether from a ride or a club or some other association.

As I mentioned in my year-in-review post, in 2019 I picked up three new jerseys, each noteworthy for some reason. And two of them violate cycling’s code of style! That's enough talking points to justify a dedicated blogpo.

 

La Vie Claire kit

My first new kit breaks both the Velominati’s Rule #17 and my own personal ethics, which is that you should never wear pro team kit unless you are a professional being paid to ride for that team. Lance Armstrong’s team kit manages to simultaneously look amateurish and pretentious when worn by a 50 year-old overweight MAMIL toodling down the local bike path.

But a jersey from a team that shut down 30 years ago, and derived from the work of designer Piet Mondrian… Well, I guess I can flex my values just that far.

So I now own a replica cap and jersey from the 1984-1990 La Vie Claire team, famously worn by Bernard Hinault and Greg LeMond during their infamous intra-team Tour de France battle. Tho to be honest, I’m wearing it primarily in homage to Mondrian.

 

Kyoto Fushimi kit

I also pulled the trigger on another kit I’ve wanted for years. It too is team issue, but for a completely fictional team: the Kyoto Fushimi high school cycling team who are among the antagonists in Wataru Watanabe’s excellent “Yowamushi Pedal” cycling manga and anime.

The Kyofushi team is led by an eerie and disturbing anti-hero character named Akira Midousuji, my favorite character in the series, with his condescending attitude, mind games, dead-fish eyes, and frequent exclamations of “Kimoi!” (Gross!) in reference to other cyclists’ riding and behavior.

Scary Midousuji-kun aside, Yowapeda is a great series, and highly recommended.

Definitely not recommended is wearing the accompanying team bib shorts, whose crotch area is white. Don’t know why white Lycra is a bad choice? Click here.

 

The Herd kit

Finally, I had to wait until after the new year for another long-anticipated item: the official Zwift Herd club jersey.

At the end of 2018, I joined Zwift and what was then called the ZBR team just as they were ordering their own custom-designed jerseys. Being new, I didn’t feel enough affiliation to get one, which was fortunate, because a few weeks later most of the group splintered off to form a separate group called The Herd, rendering those ZBR jerseys regrettably inappropriate.

Having tagged along in that move, I offered to help design a replacement, but was rebuffed. I hoped that a new design would be available for everyone to wear six months later at the group’s first major gathering at the Leelanau Harvest Tour, but the new design didn't appear until November. I promptly purchased it, then waited seven weeks longer for the vendor to deliver it. But in September I'll bring it to Toronto for The Herd’s second big gathering.

 

So those are my 2019-vintage jersey purchases. They’re all meaningful to me for very different reasons, and I look forward to sporting them on the road this spring. Except for those white bib shorts…

Who drives more than 8 hours, does a 100-mile bike ride, then drives another 8 hours home? Well, here’s the thing...

Last winter, when I was spending a lot of time on the indoor trainer and Zwift, much of it was riding with an organized club called “The Herd”. Because we use Discord for voice chat, over time you get to know people and form friendships irrespective of where folks are physically located.

The Herd's Fast Group

The Herd's Fast Group

Caught in Samsara!

Caught in Samsara!

The Herd @ LHT

The Herd @ LHT

Tim W. & Chris S.

Tim W. & Chris S.

Brad, Chris A., & Tim W.

Brad, Chris A., & Tim W.

Ornoth @ Little Traverse Lake

Ornoth @ Little Traverse Lake

Chris S.

Chris S.

Tim W., Timm M., Brad, & Louise

Tim W., Timm M., Brad, & Louise

Tim W.

Tim W.

Tom

Tom

Chris A.

Chris A.

Ornoth @ Grand Traverse Light

Ornoth @ Grand Traverse Light

Early in the year, The Herd announced their first big real-life get-together, at the Leelanau Harvest Tour, an organized century ride in Traverse City, in the northwestern corner (the pinkie) of Michigan. Since that’s just within a day’s drive from Pittsburgh, I added it to my calendar.

In the end, we had 16 attendees: several from around Toronto, Michigan, Wisconsin, Ohio, eastern and western Pennsylvania, but also individuals from as far away as Boston, Oklahoma, and one of the group leaders (Marius) traveled from Norway!

Several of the ride leaders had met one another before, but for others it was their first time meeting other Herd members in person. Gathering to meet "online-only" friends from various locations is a familiar feeling for me, having gone to the internet’s first-ever Chatcon in NYC in 1985, several Where’s George meetups, and having run a dozen "summits” in various locations for DargonZine, the internet writers’ group I founded in 1984.

The Herd event was extra ironic for me, because our 2005 DZ summit actually was held in Traverse City, co-hosted by a writer based in Ann Arbor. I never imagined I’d visit there once, never mind a return engagement fourteen years later!

So on the morning of Friday the 13th I hit the road, leaving Pittsburgh at 7:15am. A long drive with a bad achilles (right foot, of course) wasn’t a lot of fun. The weather was fine except for my brief passage through a rain front, but I arrived, got into my downtown hotel, and showered.

I was surprised there was no group meeting Friday evening, but that gave me the opportunity to dine at one place in Traverse City that I really wanted to hit: a Thai restaurant with the amusing (to a Buddhist) name of Samsara! Samsara (wikipedia) being the name for the endless cycle of birth, suffering, death, and rebirth, I had to get a selfie and make a couple inside jokes.

The place had no pretensions. Located in the side-back of a strip mall, with a linoleum floor, drop ceiling, and about six tables. My “ghang gahree” was delicious, but was served "Thai-hot”.

I returned to the hotel and bedded down, a little disappointed that with such a short amount of time to spend together, there was no welcoming activity before the ride. But that was tempered with the understanding that other folks might take their pre-ride preparation more cautiously than I do.

Saturday morning I grabbed some Gatorade and drove up to the Suttons Bay ride start, where the petulant ride organizers made dozens of us stand in line while they strictly waited until 7:30am for the official opening of registration. After gathering my cue sheet, wristband, and tee shirt, I pulled my bike out of the trunk and began putting everything together, happily discovering that the group’s van—where everyone was to meet up—had parked a couple spots down from me.

I don’t know why technical difficulties tend to crop up at major events, but this is where my trials began. Having brought my Nut-R mount for my GoPro action camera, when I went to attach it to my rear axle, I couldn’t close the wheel’s quick-release, even after removing the Nut-R. I feared I might not be able to ride, but Julie H. wrenched the quick-release back into shape so that it would close properly. But even then, I had trouble threading the Nut-R onto the quick-release and wound up not using it at all.

We waited around for everyone to get ready, assembled for a group photo, and rolled out about 20 minutes later than the planned 8am depart. The first 11 miles were along the Leelanau Rail Trail, providing a pleasant warm-up and the opportunity to chat, enjoy the beautiful morning, and take a few action photos.

With 16 riders all having different expectations, priorities, and experience levels, it was inevitable that the group split into fast and slower groups shortly after we left the bike path, when a gusty headwind and a couple small hills provided natural sorting mechanisms. Although we weren’t pushing it at the front, I found myself in a reduced group of five, with Brad H., Louise B., Chris A., and Tim W.

At the Mile 25 rest stop, my GPS battery was low, so I went to connect it to the portable battery I carry on long rides. I usually attach it to my handlebars with an elastic band, so I can ride and recharge the unit at the same time; however, my elastic chose that moment to disintegrate, and I discovered that I’d somehow misplaced its backup. I fell back to using an extra hair band, which only barely worked.

We began the second segment with three additional riders: Tom W., Timm M., who had flatted, and Chris S., who had paced him back to us. As the course turned north through Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore, the eight of us enjoyed a delightful tailwind on a long section of smooth pavement. While pulling at the front, I amused the others by sitting up, taking my hands off the bars, and flapping my arms like a seagull leading a formation of birds.

All too soon, that segment ended at the Mile 39 rest stop, which fronted on the stunningly blue waters of Little Traverse Lake. I consulted the mechanical support dude, who remembered that new inner tubes often come wrapped with an elastic, so I happily used one of those to secure my external battery.

The next section featured consecutive rolling hills, which the group ate up without complaint, and long stretches along the banks of Lake Leelanau. We saw an occasional tree with a tiny bit of color, but that ominous hint of autumn was made up for by the brilliant gradations of blue in the lakes and the perfectly clear sky. The turquoise waters were repeatedly compared to the Caribbean.

At the next lakeside rest stop we said goodbye to Chris, Tim, Timm, and Tom, who resisted our attempts to persuade them to switch from the 65-mile route to the full hundred. Although eleven Herd riders had registered for the century, only four of us continued on: myself, Chris A., Louise, and Brad, who diligently pulled at the front, as he’d done nearly all day.

Passing through the tiny town of Northport, Louise flatted, but we were fortuitously spotted by the SAG wagon driver, who had been fetching coffee for his crew, so we were back on the road in short order.

After navigating a three-mile construction zone, we reached the end of the road: the northernmost tip of the Leelanau Peninsula, which featured a state park of the same name, as well as the Grand Traverse Lighthouse. We stopped and marveled at the high surf and the azure expanse of Lake Michigan, then returned the way we’d come, back through the road construction.

The final 25 southbound miles were a slog against the headwind we’d forgotten about on our way north. My achilles began hurting, and as the miles added up, our group of four lost cohesiveness. At the Mile 84 rest stop, the others inexplicably left without waiting for me; I promptly caught them up, but by this point we were riding at our own individual paces. The route had a fun and interesting finish: a gradual, mile-long 3% descent, followed by a mile-long 6% climb and equivalent descent right to the finish.

At 4pm I completed 101 miles, discovering that the parking lot where we’d started was almost empty. I’d expected the team to hang out at the lunch offered by the organizers, but they’d all gone back to their lodgings to shower. The four of us who had ridden the century together packed up and followed suit.

Between the easy pace, the 4pm time, and the fact that everyone else had gone home, I figured we’d ridden ridiculously slowly, but it was actually a 7h38m century, which is casual but not especially self-indulgent.

After the ride, I went back to my hotel, showered, and headed to the group’s post-ride gathering downtown at Seven Monks Taproom. I nibbled some ribs and socialized, enjoying more time with both the friends I’d ridden with and those I hadn’t. But it was awfully loud, and I was hoarse by the end of the night.

After abbreviated sleep Friday night, Saturday night was worse, with a thunderstorm that left me fully awake at 4am. I opted to try the hotel's 6am breakfast, which was utterly indefensible.

As the rain tapered off, the bleary-eyed group gathered for a final brunch meetup at the “Flap Jack Shack”. One of the odder moments was when David T. perceived a likeness between me and the portrait of Andrew Jackson on the $20 bill, then extended that idea to others in our group. We chatted and pretended to eat for an hour and a half before everyone went off on their own again: some homeward, others following their own local plans.

Tired, headachey, and nauseous, I went back to the hotel and slept for a couple hours, skipped dinner, and watched some footy until bedtime.

Having planned to be ready for group activities on Sunday, I’d booked my hotel through until Monday. After another uncomfortable night, I was up early for the long drive back to Pittsburgh. Along the way I passed the immediate aftermath of a tractor trailer that had Storrowed itself: misjudging a bridge and peeling itself open like a can opener. But the day’s real highlight was arriving home, receiving a warm welcome, and passing out in bed.

Looking back on the event, other than a couple missed social opportunities, I only had two minor disappointments. Although Herd team jerseys have been in the works for nine months, they weren’t available by the time of the ride. And the event’s date unfortunately collided with one of my favorite Pittsburgh events: the Every Neighborhood Ride, which I rode in 2018, 2017, and 2016.

But overall, it was a wonderful time. I enjoyed the ride’s route, the gentle terrain, gorgeous lakes, and especially the delightful weather. After the wettest year in recorded history last year, somehow all of my major rides with fixed dates in 2019 have had stunningly beautiful weather. And it was great being able to meet and ride with so many Herd members whom I’d previously only known online.

This was my record-setting 13th century of the year, and the final major event on my calendar. Honestly, after nine 100-mile rides in the past 12 weeks, the prospect of not having any more centuries is pretty appealing! The Herd gathering was a very rewarding and fitting way to close out the high season, and now it’s time for some well-deserved rest, healing, and a trip to the doctor to treat my achilles injury before contemplating a return to Zwift over the winter.

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