Orny's Cycling Journal

Preview of the 2026 PMC rider's jersey.

Welcome to 2026! A new year has begun, and with it, new aspirations and goals. By far my biggest objective for the year is my 20th Pan-Mass Challenge.

In a sense, this will be my most ambitious PMC ever. Not because of the riding, but because – instead of riding remotely as I’ve done since 2020 – this year I’m undertaking the trip back to Boston to take part in the mass in-person event for the first time since 2014, while also surpassing a lifetime fundraising total of $150,000 for the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute.

Having never traveled with my bike before, the logistics of getting myself and my bike to Boston, renting a vehicle, securing lodging, and doing the ride are intimidating. That’s why I‘ve done my last five PMC rides solo and remotely in Pittsburgh and Austin.

When I wrote about this year’s PMC in my 2025 end-of-year summary a couple weeks ago, it was with a measure of precaution. I figured I could always back out of the trip if necessary. After all, I’ve come up short on some previous annual goals, so it wouldn’t be the end of the world, right?

But time has a cruel sense of humor. Only nine days after posting about this year’s goal, registration for the 2026 PMC ride opened. And since the most desirable routes sell out very quickly, you really have to sign up as early as you can.

So today I registered for the traditional two-day route, which – beginning this year – now runs from Worcester to Provincetown. Registration includes a binding promise to raise a minimum of $6,000. And for me, it sets in stone my commitment to make the trip back to Boston to ride.

For me, the most insidious of the Pan-Mass Challenge’s slogans is “Commit: you’ll figure it out”, referring to the dual challenge of a formidable 300-kilometer bike ride and the daunting $6,000 fundraising minimum.

But this year it also applies to my individual challenge: the logistics of getting myself, my bike, my support person, and all my gear from Texas to the starting line in Worcester… A journey that I’m now fully committed to, after having completed my registration.

Of course, I have enough wisdom to realize that these are just typical jitters about doing something new and unfamiliar. The travel will be planned and executed. And my Team Kermit buddies are a helpful example, having made this commute annually for Austin’s Livestrong Challenge. So now that I’m committed, I just need to trust that I will indeed “figure it out”.

And I know it’s going to be worth the discomfort. I’ll see lots of very dear New England riding buddies whom I’ve missed greatly. And I’ll get to celebrate with some of my oldest friends and most loyal and generous PMC sponsors. I’ll be riding over roads I haven’t seen in 12 years that hold so many personal and poignant memories, while cancer patients and their families line the entire route, thanking us for helping fund the research that they or their loved ones have benefited from. I’ll be celebrating my 20th PMC ride, and taking pride from the accomplishment of raising $150,000 for cancer research. And with enough help from my donors, I might even qualify for PMC “Heavy Hitter” status for the 10th time. It’s gonna be an awesome trip, I know.

There’s so much to look forward to, and I’m certain the reality will be far more powerful than I can convey to you here, or in my followup ride report.

You’ll hear me say it often, once I kick off this year’s fundraising push in a few months, but I do hope you’ll be part of my celebratory 20th PMC ride, in one way or another.

But until then, in addition to lots of anticipation and a whole lot of riding, I’ve gotta get to work on that “figure it out” part of my 2026 Pan-Mass Challenge. Let’s get to it!

Coming into the 2025 event, my history with the Livestrong Challenge was not pleasant. In 2023 I suffered mightily in extreme heat, puking my guts out just after completing the 100-mile route, then needing to call my partner to drive me home; all later documented in a blogpo entitled “It's Not Easy Being Green in the Face”. And in 2024 I had to cancel my ride, having been hospitalized with a stroke less than two weeks before the event. But in 2025, with all that behind me, would the third time be the charm?

Chilly, Foggy Morning in Austin

Team Kermit

Lined Up at Sunrise

Crossing the Finish Line

Greeted by Team Leader at the Finish

Ride 'Em Cowboy

One thing was certain: it was gonna be a hectic week. Within seven days of the ride, I observed my birthday, took my partner Inna to the airport for a 6-day trip and picked her up on her return, dealt with Halloween, voted in the state election, attended a baroque concert, waited for big news from the Pan-Mass Challenge’s record-setting check presentation ceremony, booked my hotel on Cape Cod for next year’s PMC, balanced riding in Zwift’s “Unlocked” series of rides with tapering my training, replaced my cell phone, and watched local team Austin FC’s brief run in the MLS Cup playoffs. That doesn’t even include the group rides and social events organized by my Team Kermit buddies who came down to Austin from New England, plus the seasonal daylight saving clock change and a big concert by Devo and the B-52s , both of which took place the night before the ride!

Anything else noteworthy in the lead-up? My training featured the Barrows Volksride 100k and the new Zwift Unlocked series of rides on the indoor trainer. But I was still iffy about whether I’d have the legs to do the 100-mile imperial century versus the 100-kilometer metric. It was also my first test of setting intermediate waypoints on my Garmin Edge bike computer, which worked marginally well (the waypoint list being useful, but the associated popup messages disappeared too quickly while riding). I also was shocked to learn that despite fielding over 500 riders, Livestrong hadn’t bothered to set up a “SAG” telephone number for riders who needed assistance on-route.

As usual, my Team Kermit buddies were down from New England, tho we were short a couple people I was looking forward to seeing. Sadly, I missed the team’s ride and meals on Thursday because I’d initially been left off the group emails.

Once that was corrected, I joined them on Friday for a ride out the Walnut Creek Trail, even though the 70 KM I accrued probably hurt my freshness form Sunday’s main event. Then Friday evening the team held an all-you-can-meat extravaganza at the Salt Lick BBQ joint way down in Driftwood.

Saturday I did all my prep and gathered my kit for the ride, then met the Kermits for packet pickup and a publicity photoshoot at Livestrong HQ. Then an early dinner of Thai food before heading down to the Devo & B-52s concert, where I basically spent a long 4½ hours standing around – including through a downpour and thunderstorm – the night before the ride! You can read about that here. That left me four hours to sleep – plus another hour gained thanks to the seasonal clock change! – before my pre-ride wakeup call.

Sunday morning I arose to dense fog and a chilly temperature of 10° C, so I added a base layer, arm warmers, and a windbreaker to my normal cycling kit. Since Inna was out of town, I drove myself down to the event, rather than endure a cold and time-consuming bike ride. Knowing I’d need space to store that extra clothing once the day warmed up, I decided to forego bringing my video selfie drone. But I got to the start, found my Team Kermit buddies, lined up with them in the VIP starting area, and kicked the ride off at 7:30am.

One of my goals was to start out at a relaxed pace, conserving some energy. In 2023, the combination of a fast start and extreme heat had taken an immense toll, as my pace faltered and slowed to a crawl as the ride wore on. By keeping a moderate pace, I hoped to avoid blowing up and beat that previous time.

But as soon as 25 KM in, I questioned that aspiration and the wisdom of doing the full 100-mile route. I was cold, sleep-deprived, dehydrated, poorly fueled, and not fully recovered from Friday’s 70 KM ride. I felt pretty lousy as I pulled into the Driftwood rest stop at 45 KM. However, I downed a banana and grabbed a couple chocolate chip cookies, and seemed to recover my strength. I was also buoyed as the skies cleared and the temperature rose.

Shortly after leaving that Driftwood stop, I picked up a wheelsucker, which would be the salient feature of the day. By riding just behind another cyclist, you can save anywhere from 15 to 35% of your power, so sitting on another rider’s wheel is a tactic for riders who want a brief rest. In pacelines, riders rotate from front to back, spending a little extra effort at the front in exchange for lots of time to rest in the protected draft of everyone else.

That wasn’t what my wheelsucker did, tho. He sat on my wheel for the next four hours, benefiting from my draft for 90 KM, without once taking a pull on the front. Through the next five rest stops, whether I stopped for 10 minutes or didn’t pull in at all, he remained glued to my wheel. To be fair, I didn’t complain – having no real reason to – and he did apologize, but it was kinda disconcerting nonetheless. I shrugged it off and just did my own ride, and when I took a little extra time to recover at the last rest stop, he finally chose to continue on without me.

As I mentioned above, one of my goals was to beat my 2023 time. While I started out slower this year, I figured I’d gain a lot of time in the latter half of the course, because in 2023 I’d slowed significantly as I fatigued, plus I had wasted a lot of time at rest stops, trying to recover. My theory more than proved out. Although I was 20 minutes behind my 2023 time in reaching the Driftwood stop, I’d begun pulling that back by the halfway point. And in the end I crossed the finish line at 2:08pm, beating my previous time by exactly an hour!

After the ride, I was in a much better physical state than I’d been in 2023. I grabbed my finisher’s medal, hung out to cheer the teammates who finished after me, and downed 4 slices of pizza and a couple cans of cola. In my email I found the announcement that this year’s Pan-Mass Challenge (which I’d ridden remotely) had donated a record $78 million to the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute. And in another unexpected surprise, one of our Team Kermit riders won a gorgeous hand-built wooden kayak after entering the Livestrong raffle!

When the team eventually moseyed back to their hotel, I hopped back on the bike to ride an extra 11 KM. See, the Livestrong route is actually a little bit short of 100 miles, and I wanted to make sure I did a full century. Plus, during the ride I’d accidentally paused my bike computer’s activity for about 15 minutes, so my recorded mileage was short by another 7 KM. So I chose to ride a little extra, to avoid any controversy about my second 100 mile ride of the year and 112th in total. Only then did I pack up and head home for my appointment with a massage gun and a bowl of ice cream.

As I said at the top, it was an intensely hectic week, culminating with a difficult endurance event. But I came through it successfully, and felt really accomplished, as well as exhausted. I spent a little more social time with Team Kermit, and enjoyed a couple brief conversations with my grammar school buddy turned Livestrong board member, Scott.

It was an immense improvement over last year, when I had to cheer from the sidelines following my stroke, and over 2023, when I struggled to complete the ride before promptly retching liters of undigested sports drink into a handy trash bin. The 2025 Livestrong Challenge weekend was just as intense as those previous years, but it was memorable for far more positive reasons.

Every year has its ups and downs, and its major milestones. But every so often something happens that is so significant that you can divide your whole cycling career — perhaps even your entire life – into “before” and “after”.

2024 started quite well; I was riding consistently, tried some new things, made a few events, but missed a few others. In the first nine months of 2024, I knocked out 7,000 kilometers, an average of 25.75 km per day.

Showing off the Austin skyline during my Pan-Mass Challenge ride.

And then there was October 4th: my stroke. Thankfully it was extremely minor, but it negated all my plans and goals as a cyclist in an instant. It reduced everything I’d done before then to history, forcing me to begin again from scratch.

The good news is that I’ve recovered remarkably well. As I mentioned in my first post following my stroke, I’ve prioritized riding the indoor trainer over riding outside. Since I got back on the bike in mid-October, I’ve logged another 2,000 km, or about 25 km per day, a rate which is almost even with my pre-stroke riding.

My plan was to get back out on the road this spring to test my capabilities. But that’s the future; for now, let me look back on the past year and give you an idea how things went both before and after October 4th.

All told, I knocked out a total of 9,250 kilometers, or the distance between London and Tokyo, or from Los Angeles to Rome. That actually surpassed my 2023 total by 1,000 km, and my riding was split 63% outdoor rides and 37% Zwift.

As for whether I met the goals I’d set for myself…

My Original 2024 Goals

Ushered in 2024 with a New Years Day Pan-Mass Challenge group ride on Zwift.

I returned to the Fire Ant Tour metric century for a second year.

Tried the Team Tacodeli group rides, but barely saw anyone but these two…

I was again a regular at the Friday Truancy group rides, tho I struggled to keep up.

Last year at this time, things were still up in the air following our move to Austin, so my 2024 goal-setting exercise was short on specifics. But I did call out three specifics areas of focus.

More 100k and Century Rides

2024 was a little better than 2023 in terms of long rides, but there were also a lot of missed opportunities.

On the plus side… I did complete two centuries: my first Red Poppy Ride, and my solo Pan-Mass Challenge Day 1. As for metric centuries, I rode my second Fire Ant Tour, plus two solo rides out to Manor, one of those comprising my PMC Day 2.

But the list of excuses and missed rides is regrettably long. I didn’t feel ready for the early-season Pedaling the Prairie or the two-day Texas MS 150. I skipped the Tour de Boerne so that I could make a rare kyūdō practice at the outdoor range. I canceled my planned Katy Flatland Century when I learned that the local Trek club was hosting a long tour around Austin, which I still missed because I contracted COVID. And my second Livestrong Challenge eluded me when I had a stroke two weeks before the event.

So I was both happy and a tiny bit disappointed with the first nine months of the year. And after my hospitalization, long rides just weren’t in the cards anymore.

Find My Group Ride Niche

I continued my frustrating quest to find enthusiast-level group rides in Austin.

Continuing last year’s trend, I regularly attended the Friday Truancy rides, making 28 of them before being sidelined by my stroke. However, for the first time in my life I was utterly incapable of keeping up with the group. So, for me, these still wound up being essentially solo rides: group rides in name only.

I did try riding with Team Tacodeli on Monday evenings, which were shorter and at a more moderate pace. I joined them five times in June, but three of those were only attended by two other riders, and once I was the only rider to show up at all! Then they went on summer hiatus, and that was the end of that. To my knowledge they haven’t resumed on any regular basis since.

So despite giving Team Tacodeli a fair shot, I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.

A Big Pan-Mass Challenge

On a much more positive note: after skipping the event in 2023, I enjoyed a tremendously successful return for an 18th PMC ride. In brief, it was:

• My first PMC ridden remotely in Austin
• My first PMC as a member of Team Kermit
• My first PMC as a sexagenarian
• The ride went really well
• I enjoyed creating an awesome 2024 PMC highlight video
• And I raised $7,300 for cancer research; a stunning 62% increase over my previous ride (2022), bringing my lifetime fundraising total to $130,800

My ride video and all the deets live in my 2024 PMC Ride Report.

So in terms of meeting the goals I’d set for 2024, I’d say I did okay. It certainly could have been better, but I’m still happy with how it went.

Charts

Because I kept riding throughout the winter of 2023-2024, I had virtually no drop-off in my Fitness level, as measured by my Chronic Training Load (CTL) numbers.

Previous years – including my first year in Austin – featured a lot of variability, characterized by peaks in Fitness during the summers, and troughs in the winter. In contrast, my Fitness stayed almost constant throughout 2024. Thus it wound up being my most consistent year on record, as you can see in the following chart.

To quantify how steady it was: in the decade from 2012 to 2023, the standard deviation of my Chronic Training Load averaged 16.7 – and it was never less than 11.7 – but in 2024 it was just 4.9! And it was actually a mere 3.5 before I contracted COVID in July and my stroke in October, which were the only noteworthy hiccups in my training all year.

Another way of looking at it is to compare my Fitness with my long-term average, as you see in the following chart, which zooms in on 2024:

In a February blogpost, I predicted that my my natural response to having rideable weather year-round would produce a much flatter curve than in previous years. I projected that my Fitness would be higher than average during the winter months, but during the extreme heat of summer it would never reach my usual peaks… and might even decline slightly from springtime highs. And that’s exactly what happened in 2024.

Basically, this is what I think it’s gonna look like to be a year-round cyclist in Austin.

The Centuries

Big turnout at the start of the Red Poppy Ride, my first century of the year.

Early morning haul down Lime Creek Road toward Volente on my 2024 Pan-Mass Challenge century.

All I can say is that two is better than one. After one lone imperial century in 2023, I was eagerly planning for Livestrong to bring my 2024 tally to three, but greater concerns intervened. But the two I did complete were:

5/11: Red Poppy Ride

Although marred by a flat tire and criminally bad route markings, this was a delightful return to long-distance riding, and a big relief after the bad experience I had on the 2023 Livestrong Challenge (blogpo). But this ride’s challenges still prompted me to invest in new tire levers and a tire jack.

8/3: Remote PMC Day 1 Century

I’ve already covered this above, but my 110th century and 18th PMC was the biggest high point of my year.

It’s still a little premature to say for sure, but it’s worth mentioning: considering my age and health issues, it’s possible this was the last imperial century that I will ever ride.

Noteworthy Purchases

This year’s spending report falls into two main categories: a ton of mostly minor maintenance stuff, and not one but two automated selfie camera drones.

The first of those drones – the HoverAir X1 – created the entire category of selfie drones, and would have been the best purchase of the year on its own, after giving me the ability to take pretty decent video footage of myself while riding.

But later in the year they released the X1 PRO, which took the groundwork laid by the X1 and improved upon it immensely. I’ll spare you the details, and instead point you to my Gear of the Year blogpost for a full writeup. But in summary, it’s a fantastic piece of equipment that I hope to make even more use of in the upcoming year.

Here’s a two-minute compilation video I made that only uses footage from the original X1. Starting next year perhaps I’ll add a new section to my year-in-review post for an annual cycling highlight video!

Beyond that, my purchases were all pretty regular stuff.

In terms of new kit, I got a new cycling jersey for riding the 2024 Pan-Mass Challenge, and ordered three sets of PMC-branded fingerless gloves. As a team rider, I also purchased a 2024 Team Kermit jersey, and received a couple PMC-branded insulated (non-cycling) water bottles that our team captain had surplused from the ride organizers.

After struggling with hydration on last year’s Livestrong ride, I picked up a bottle of SaltStick electrolyte gelcaps. I’d used them back in Massachusetts in 2010 for cramping, but hadn’t noticed any obvious benefit; however, I was willing to give them another shot in order to help me deal with Texas’ heat. Results continue to be inconclusive.

Routine maintenance included buying inner tubes, CO2 canisters, a new tire, a replacement saddle bag, helmet padding inserts, and a new heart rate monitor. Also had to replace a battery cover on my Garmin power meter pedals, which I’d over-tightened and had to destroy to get into. And I got a new electric shaver (for the legs, of course).

In hopes of alleviating some of my tire-changing worries, I replaced my Park Tool tire levers with ones from Pedro’s, and a funky tire-seating device called the Rehook Tyre Glider; but I actually didn’t get to test either of those, so I can’t say they were of any value. I also tried my hand at patching punctured inner tubes with vulcanizing glue patches, which was an almost universal failure.

So really, aside from the selfie drones, it was a pretty underwhelming year in terms of equipment.

Additional Highlights

Dramatic backdrop on the new Walnut Creek bike path extension to Manor during my PMC Day 2 ride.

A stunning sunset atop Turn 1 at the Circuit of the Americas F1 track.

Unlocked Level 80 on Zwift’s indoor trainer platform.

Proved there was no drop in my FTP after my stroke on Zwift’s new “The Grade” hill climb.

Team Kermit group photo at the finish line of the 2024 Livestrong Challenge.

Obviously, the highest-impact unplanned event of the year was my stroke, and starting my cycling life over from scratch. So far, my recovery seems near complete, even though I’ve kept my focus strictly on the indoor trainer so far. And I also recovered from my first bout of COVID in July.

But before my stroke, there were still some nice surprises. The Southern Walnut Creek trail was extended another nine kilometers to the town of Manor, which could serve as a gateway for rides farther to the northeast of Austin. And I made two trips down to the Circuit of the Americas Formula 1 track for Bike Nights, which is the same number of sessions I made in 2023. Sadly, illness forced me to miss their first actual post-sunset “under the lights” night ride.

Life on the indoor trainer was eventful. My Kickr CORE smart trainer got its first firmware updates in 2½ years, adding automatic calibration, which is a nice convenience. I also picked up Zwift Play handlebar-mounted controllers, which provide several convenient functions, including virtual shifting (which I disliked) and in-game steering.

Within Zwift’s virtual world, I began the year at Level 62 and finished at Level 81, although after four poorly-conceived redesigns, they’ve botched the XP system so horribly that levels just don’t mean that much anymore. In addition to an updated heads-up display, Zwift introduced a couple dozen new routes, including two small but noteworthy expansions: The Grade, a hilly section which features a short-form FTP test; and an updated copy of Zwift’s original 8 km Jarvis Island loop. So it took some work for me to reinstate my “Route Hero” status. And after having avoided the initial hoopla, I finally checked out Zwift’s Climb Portal, and had the pleasure of riding up Mt. Fuji while that route was featured back in May. Four years later, I’m still waiting for Zwift to bring it to their permanent Japan-inspired Makuri map.

But I have to call out two of my formerly-favorite vendors, who made stupid, user-hostile decisions that have me seriously reconsidering doing business with them.

Garmin Screws Its Users

I’ve been using Garmin’s portable GPS units to plan routes and record rides since 2000, using the original yellow eTrex, the eTrex Vista, the bike-specific Edge 800 and Edge 820, and about 18 months ago I picked up their newest bike computer, the Edge 840 Solar, which I reviewed here.

For the past two and a half decades, when you connected a Garmin GPS to your computer, it would appear as a disk drive that you could interact with just like any other: copying and moving files on and off the unit as desired. It was incredibly convenient, and one of my top criteria when evaluating bike GPS units.

However, a December update disabled disk access in favor of MTP, simulating an Android device that the user cannot interact with directly.

This is an immense pain in the ass for me. I have automated programs that rely on disk access to automatically save copies of my logs after every activity I complete. Furthermore, I use disk access to backup all my user data, settings, and key system files quarterly. Garmin’s change means there is no way for my programs to read anything on the device, or for me to manually copy files from it.

So far I’ve been able to decline installing the update that does this, but that also means forgoing all future fixes and enhancements. There are shareware programs that give some limited access to MTP volumes, but they’ll never be as scriptable as the simple file system disk interface.

As I said, being able to programmatically read files from the unit is one of my most important criteria when buying a bike GPS. If Garmin is no longer going to support that, it forces this longtime Garmin user to very seriously consider moving to their competitors.

Strava Screws Its Users 

Despite being the incumbent athletic social network, Strava has a long history of lack of innovation and user-hostility. But this year they’ve shown a newfound ability to screw their customers.

First, there was their amateurish handling of a substantial price increase, which was never publicly announced and varied pricing dramatically by country.

Next, Strava alienated or outright forbade the API-based applications that most athletes rely on. By prohibiting third-party applications from showing one user’s data to anyone but that user, they immediately destroyed a whole ecosystem of communities that rely on their data, including athlete coaching, athlete leaderboards, and the ability to sync Strava data with other platforms. Strava has stupidly banned the very apps that make it useful to its customers!

Finally, in another completely unannounced change, Strava stepped up its effort to get rid of spammers. But in typical Strava fashion, they completely botched it. Instead of using technology to identify problematic users, they simply decided one day to ban every Strava user from using URLs. Suddenly overnight, and without any notice, any link posted in a user profile, an activity description, or a post simply disappeared, with no error message or notice. Worse yet, this was so poorly coded that even decimal numbers like “30.4 kilometers” were deleted for looking too much like those dreaded URLs!

This is all just so typical Strava, and it absolutely underscores the company’s completely user-hostile orientation. Needless to say, I’m unlikely to renew my paid subscription when it comes up for renewal next spring.

Blogposts

In recent years, I’ve had less to say in blog form, and loaded more of those things into my usual ride reports or my annual year in review. But here’s this year’s inventory:

• 2/11: The Shape of Things to Come (charting changes in my seasonal cycling pattern)
• 5/16: Poppies! (Red Poppy Ride century ride report)
• 5/10: Anty Up (Fire Ant 100k ride report)
• 8/20: 2024 Pan-Mass Challenge Reimagined (just a pointer to my full PMC ride report page)
• 9/15: Covidiocy (comparing my fitness pre- and post-COVID)
• 11/14: Livestroke Challenge (my cancelled Livestrong Challenge and cycling after my stroke)
• 12/7: Gear of the Year (my new HoverAir X1 selfie drone)
• 12/31: 2024: Second Life (my year in review: you’re reading it!)

Goals for 2025

Ornoth’s 2024 cycling calendar/log

My 2024 Strava Year in Sport summary

For the past few years, this section could have been shortened to just “more of the same”. I wish I could say the same again for 2025, but my life as a cyclist has changed at a fundamental level, forcing a complete reset in my expectations. So we start with my most basic and important goal:

Stroke & Cardiac Recovery

While the symptoms of my stroke have long passed, the followup continues, with several hematology and cardiology visits planned.

I have two more months of relative normailty, but then I will have cardiac surgery to repair a hole between my atria, and will be under doctor’s orders for absolutely zero exercise for all of March and into April.

Once I’m cleared to exercise again, cycling life will start from scratch all over again, while I first test whether I’m okay to ride, then rebuild some fitness, and finally test my endurance and learn what demands my body will still be capable of meeting.

My questions won’t have changed much since I came home from the hospital: Will I be able to participate in group rides? Can I still do a metric century? An imperial? Will I be able to trust my body again? Can I ever return to what used to be “normal”?

My 19th Pan-Mass Challenge?

Sadly, the PMC is once again a big question mark. While I really want to do it, I won’t have any idea what’s physically achievable until May, at earliest.

Even if I were in perfect health, there are still a lot of questions up in the air. Would I try to simulate the full 2-day, 300 km route? Would I still do it in August, or perhaps choose a different time? Would I ride as a member of Team Kermit or return to being a solo rider? And will I have time and energy to fundraise?

Like everything else, I won’t have any way to answer these questions until I get through my upcoming heart surgery.

More, Better Videos!

Whatever riding I do, I hope to capture it with the newer, more capable HoverAir X1 PRO autonomous selfie drone. With video quality, subject tracking, and speed all improved, I’m excited to see what I’ll be able to do with it, and equally excited to share the results with you in this cycling blog and on my Strava feed.

My trusty steed waits, ready for another summer in the Texas sun.

Some Anticipated Purchases

Having spent the past three months on the indoor trainer, I’ve been sitting on a few ideas for next year’s cycling upgrades, including the following:

On the bike: After two years and almost 18,000 kilometers, my bike could probably benefit from its first thorough tune-up. And some new bar tape.

Cycling kit: Although my current ones are only 18 months old, I could probably use a couple new pairs of bibshorts. And my Shimano cycling sandals really need to be replaced.

As for tires: I’m really tired of struggling to get my Conti GP5000 tires mounted on my tubeless-ready rims, so when they wear out, I’m going to replace them with Pirelli P-Zero tires and see how that goes. And I’m perpetually on the fence about whether I should try running lighter and higher-performance latex or TPU inner tubes, instead of the much more convenient and economical default latex. Maybe next year we’ll give those a shot; just don’t expect to ever see me going tubeless!

Conclusion

2024 started well, but ended on a sour note. The high points that I’ll remember include a very successful first solo Austin PMC ride, and the purchase and videos captured with my first autonomous selfie drone.

But by far the most defining moment of the past year was my stroke. It was a miracle that I came away from it without any significant loss of function, but also a very grim reminder that one’s time is limited, and life can disappear in any instant. And my upcoming cardiac work casts an immense shadow onto 2025 and beyond.

It’s hard to get past that realization and return to making plans and setting goals as if nothing had changed.

And at the same time, it underscores how precious every day – and every ride – is, how big a blessing it is simply to be able to get out, travel around under our own power, and experience nature and the world around us.

That’s the attitude I’ll try to bring with me on every precious ride this year as I deal with my surgery, then try to recover enough to resume outdoor riding.

Happy 2025 to everyone I share these roads with!

This is just a placeholder to direct you to my 2024 Pan-Mass Challenge Ride Report, for the full details of this year's remote "Reimagined" PMC ride. As always, my lengthy writeup is supplemented with photos, videos, maps, and GPS logs.

This year, I also created the following 4½-minute summary montage. I hope you enjoy it!

Back on September 10th, I completed the 100-mile Livestrong Challenge Austin ride and raised $875 for the Livestrong Foundation.

Rather than give you the usual chronological ride report, I’m gonna organize this mostly by themes, in hopes that it will be both more effective and readable. Are you with me here? Let’s start with the elephant in the peloton…

The Decision

My decision to participate will surprise those of you who know my feelings about Lance Armstrong, the Livestrong Foundation’s disgraced founder. I don’t ever want to contribute in any way to the fame or fortune he has amassed from lying to the public and terrorizing the people around him.

So what convinced me to do the Livestrong ride? Here are the factors that went into my choice:

• Lance has left the organization and is no longer involved in any official way. After suffering due to their association, Livestrong have wisely distanced themselves from him, although he remains their largest financial backer.
• There are surprisingly few century rides here in Austin, and it’s been a long eleven months since my last one (back in Pittsburgh).
• I hate cancer even more than I hate Lance, and Livestrong does admirable work for cancer survivors.
• I have two friends who are Livestrong bigwigs, and their vocal support of the foundation earns it a degree of approval. My childhood friend Scott is on their Board of Directors and is a survivor of testicular cancer; and Steven, the leader of the Pan-Mass Challenge’s popular Team Kermit, is a Livestrong Ambassador (i.e. a distinguished volunteer).
• Along with Steven, several other PMC friends from Boston come down to Austin for the Livestrong ride.

So while I hate the idea of being associated with Lance Armstrong, I don’t think it’s unreasonable for me to take part in this ride. But I took perverse pride in wearing my 2011 PMC jersey during the event.

Poor Training and Lead-Up

Ornoth with Scott & MJ

Scott, Ornoth, & Steven before the start

Ornoth lined up in the VIP starting area

MJ & Scott, Steven & Ornoth ready for the start

Ornoth rolling out with Team Kermit

Rolling through the ranchland in Driftwood

Scenic level crossing on the Blanco River

ClimbPro showing Fulton Ranch hill

Team Kermit's Ornoth, Christophe, and Steve after conquering Fulton Ranch hill

Real-Time Stamina, estimating 21% or 17km remaining before bonking

Ornoth dragging himself toward the finish

Ornoth crossing the finish line

And having finished, collapsing

Not looking good post vomiting after the finish

Solar power gain, showing 71 minutes gained over a 9-hour ride

May, June, and July were filled with short rides focused on becoming Local Legend on the Ladera Norte hill. So I didn’t begin training for distance until August. And August’s training was cut short after badly throwing my back out. Right when my training should have been peaking, I was off the bike for ten days, while the small training effect I’d gained atrophied away.

Four days before the event, I was just getting back onto the bike when Team Kermit members started assembling in Austin. They were looking to meet up and ride every day, right when I would normally be tapering my training in order to be well-rested for the event.

Instead, on Thursday before the (Sunday) event, local Austin Kermit member Scott led a group of five of us up the Walnut Creek Trail, then back to 51th Street for lunch at Jewboy Burgers. Then on Friday I led a sightseeing ride up the Shoal Creek bikeway and back down Scenic Drive. We finished at event packet pickup, where I received a Livestrong Challenge cycling jersey and VIP rider bib tag #28.

I took Saturday off while the Kermiteers spent the day doing another long ride down to the Veloway park. I’d ridden 150 km in two days and was suffering for it. My back was still iffy, my ass was abraded, and my legs were too tired to tackle a hundred-mile ride without rest. At the same time, I hadn’t eaten or slept well, was already dehydrated, and down 1.8 kilos of body weight in a week. For the first time, my final ride prep included zip-tying a stuffed Kermit doll to my helmet, complete with white cowboy hat and rodeo bull-riding pose.

Quick Ride Summary

My Strava activity’s description summed my Livestrong Challenge up best: it was very good until it wasn’t.

After about five hours of sleep, I got up at 4:30am and set out in darkness at 5:45 on the 15 km ride downtown. I rode with Team Kermit from their hotel to the start, where we lined up in the VIP section before being set loose on the streets of Austin at 7:30am.

At the tail end of a brutally hot summer, the ride began under pleasant temperatures that warmed considerably, but not to the extremes that we’ve lived under for the past three months. South from Austin to Buda, then west and south through Driftwood.

Enjoying the freedom of having two water bottles rather than one, I skipped the first three rest stops out of a desire to stay ahead of the pack and beat the time limits for the 100-mile route, which the organizers had shortened by 30 minutes. So my first break came two hours in, after 57 km, (or 72 km if you include my 15 km commute to the start). As you might guess by such a long stretch without a break, I had been feeling good thus far.

I refilled my bottles and marshaled some strength for the long, steep hill at the end of the next segment. I enjoyed the pleasant tree-lined streets near Wimberley, and a stunning level crossing of the Blanco River. Then came the 15% grade climb up Fulton Ranch hill, which is essentially the halfway point of the course. It was quite manageable for a cyclist used to the much lumpier terrain back in Pittsburgh. At the top, a water stop beckoned; I pulled in at 10:30am, having taken three hours to knock out 77 km (or 92 km).

While resting here, Team Kermit members Christophe and Steve rolled in, and we would leapfrog each other for the rest of the 110 km trek back to Austin. But this would be the point when things slowly started going to hell. The temps climbed through the 30s, and I was feeling the effort in my feet, legs, lower back, traps, and hands.

As my reserves dwindled, my speed and power dropped, and my horizon shrank to simply reaching the next rest stop. I hadn’t eaten any solid food during the whole ride, and was pounding fluid in an attempt to address both heat and thirst. Extended 15-minute rest stops and hand towels soaked in ice water were just enough to keep me from blowing up.

I stopped twice to battle fatigue and nausea during the last segment to the finish, but completed the final loop around Auditorium Shores. The event photographers captured my grim visage as I crossed the finish line at 3:07pm. I’d completed the official 158 km official course in 7h 37m, but had fulfilled my 108th imperial century by riding 15 extra km to the start.

I collapsed in exhaustion underneath the Team Kermit tent and waved off others’ attempts at congratulations, accepting only a folding chair and an ice-water towel. And then came that feeling we’re all familiar with: a particular certainty that it’s time to find a convenient but discreet place to deposit some biological material. So I staggered nonchalantly over to a nearby trash can and retched about three gallons of undigested fluid that I’d carried with me over the preceding few dozen kilometers.

So my Livestrong Challenge ended successfully but ignobly. I managed to recuperate enough to stand for a team picture before I said goodbye, then met up with my partner Inna, who mercifully drove me those extra 15 km back home.

My First Century in Eleven Months

This was my first 100-mile ride since October 2022. Eleven months is a long layoff; I haven’t gone that long between centuries in fifteen years (since 2007-2008)! You ask me how it went? Go back and read the summary: it was very good until it wasn’t.

Mistakes were made. Looking back on it, nearly all of them were about my personal physical fitness and decisionmaking, not my equipment or the location or the event. So I guess that would be the logical place to start…

My Fitness and Decisionmaking

A century always demands a lot of stamina and will power from me, but this was an exceptional case. Despite being one of the first dozen riders out of the gate, then skipping three rest stops, I only marginally beat the last finishers on the course.

I could blame the Texas heat, but even at 37°C (98°C) it was mercifully moderate in comparison to the seventy days above 38°C (100°F) that Austin experienced over the summer.

Or I could blame my age. After all, I’m only weeks away from my sixtieth birthday, and that’s the kind of thing that can slow a guy down.

While those are valid considerations, there was a whole panoply of other factors that impaired my performance, leaving me with weak legs and zero stamina toward the end of the ride.

Despite not doing any long rides in nearly a year, I barely did any lengthy training rides prior to the event. I went into it fatigued and dehydrated from too little sleep and too much riding just before the event. I was insufficiently fueled due to an irregular eating schedule and not eating any solid food during the ride. And I still had lingering injuries to my lower back and my backside (the latter attributable to insufficient time in the saddle).

But the biggest wildcard was hydration. Consuming two bottles over the first five segments of my ride – especially since the first segment was a casual commute – doesn’t seem like an especially egregious error. But it set me up poorly for the second half of the ride, where my perceptions of thirst and heat were clearly malfunctioning, causing me to take in more fluid than I could digest. This is the biggest thing I’ll have to monitor on future long rides.

There were lots of physical niggles along the road, of course. Early on, I had to make a quick roadside stop to flush some stinging sunblock out of my eyes. In my cycling sandals, some pain developed in my big toes, but I got away without a repeat of the abrasions I’d gotten on top of my feet a couple weeks earlier.

And I’d expected pain in my hands due to a slight change in my position on the new bike. I did have some discomfort, but not the severe palsy that I’d feared. It would be prudent to address this soon by buying new cycling gloves and plush handlebar tape.

The New Bike

Like its owner’s ride, my new Specialized Æthos was very good until it wasn’t.

It looked like Pæthos came through its first century in flying colors, to the extent that I had very little to say about it, other than that it suited me well and earned my full confidence.

Two weeks before the event, I’d gotten a flat on a pair of brand new tires. That got me so worried about the rough chipseal of Texas back roads that I’d carried two spare inner tubes, in addition to a pump, a CO2 dispenser, and a Shrader-to-Presta adapter in case I needed an automotive air compressor. That was all overkill; Pæthos appeared to handle everything that was thrown at it.

Just before the ride, I’d also converted from one water bottle cage to two, which was a big win. That gives me the flexibility to ride farther unsupported or without stopping (e.g. skipping three water stops). But it also gave me the option of carrying both sport drink for hydration and clear water to pour over my head and body when the heat was at its worst. And I did lots of that on the Livestrong ride!

But those Texas roads did get me in the end. After I got home, I noticed a break in the carbon rim of my rear wheel, which most likely happened due to a rock strike somewhere along the Livestrong route. I took it in to Specialized to see if it was rideable or a case for a warranty replacement, and they chose to replace the rim. Pretty ridiculous that my first set of carbon wheels lasted a mere 4,000 km.

The New GPS Bike Computer

This was also the first century-length test for the Garmin Edge 840 Solar that I picked up last month, which delighted me in nearly every way. On top of flawlessly handling mapping and turn-by-turn navigation, it now sports graphical data fields (e.g. power and heart rate charts), and the new ClimbPro feature, which tracks your location on an elevation profile of the current climb.

While cool, I had already tested that stuff; I was more eager to try out some other features that could only be done on a century-length ride. After all, I couldn’t finish my full review until I’ve put it through all my typical use cases.

Top of the list was battery life. The battery on my old Edge 820 had deteriorated to the point where I had to plug it into a portable USB battery for any rides longer than 90 minutes. The new unit claimed 26 to 32 hours, and I finished my 10-hour day with a whopping 72% charge remaining. I think I can finally leave my USB charger at home for good!

Of course, that includes the benefit I derived from the unit’s solar charging feature, which in Texas is a painless way to give the battery slight boost. Over 9h 15m the unit gained about 72 minutes worth of solar power, or about 8 minutes per hour. Not revolutionary, but not trivial either!

The other major feature I wanted to test was Garmin’s new “real-time stamina” estimate, which supposedly learns your physiology and provides a real-time guess about how long you can go until exhaustion. At my first rest stop, it estimated that I had 55% stamina remaining, and – ominously – that my reserves would run out 40 km before the end. I monitored that number all afternoon as it fluctuated, but it consistently told me that I’d have nothing left in the tank for the last 25-35 km of the ride, which is exactly how things played out. It was surprisingly accurate, given the variables that it didn’t know about, like fueling and hydration.

One feature came as a complete surprise to me. When Kermit team leader Steven texted us to ask where we were on the course, I deliriously scrolled down through the usual canned, stock responses for something appropriate as I continued pedaling. At the bottom of the list was something my old unit had lacked: the ability to actually type a freehand text response right there on the head unit! So I was able to pound out a response that truly captured my feelings in the moment. In response to his “How far out are you??”, I answered “Lifetimes”.

The only glitch I had was a minor one. I’ve always had an alert set to pop up when I reached the 100 mile threshold, but it never showed up on the new computer. I’ll have to re-test that, the next time I get the opportunity to pound out a hundred-mile ride.

My Friend Scott

As I mentioned above, my childhood friend Scott is on the Livestrong Board of Directors and is a survivor of testicular cancer.

Our friendship goes back fifty years to 1972: 3rd grade back in Maine, Cub Scouts, then French and several other classes through middle and high school. After going separate ways for college, 25 years later we rediscovered each other and our common commitment to cycling to combat cancer. In 2008 he rode the Pan-Mass Challenge, so it seemed appropriate for me to take part in his preferred event, especially since I’m now based in Austin.

I ran into him and his partner MJ outside the hotel as we were both heading to the start, and got to chat with them a little more just before we lined up for the depart. It was the first time I’d seen him in ten years, and it was wonderful to touch base, although it was much briefer than it deserved… Hopefully another time.

Steven and Team Kermit

My friend Steven is both a Livestrong Ambassador and the captain of the Pan-Mass Challenge’s very popular Team Kermit, founded in honor of – and continuing in memory of – his son Jared. I have several connections in the group and have ridden alongside numerous Team Kermit riders in the PMC all the way back to their founding in 2005. Most recently, I’ve nurtured friendships with several Kermiteers by riding with them virtually on the weekly PMC Zwift indoor trainer rides.

While I’ve never ridden the PMC as part of a team, I thought it would be fun to bolster Team Kermit’s numbers on the Livestrong ride, so I registered as an official team member. The days preceding the ride were spent tagging along – and even leading – some fun local sightseeing rides for our traveling visitors. Taking charge was local Austinite and Team Kermit member Scott.

Riders Christophe and Steve I only knew from the Zwift group rides, so it was nice to put names with their faces. They rode with me for the second half of the century route, and their companionship was absolutely invaluable.

I’m very much a lone wolf, so there were several times when I felt awkward as a member of a team, especially a team who decorates our helmets with large, stuffed Kermit toy dolls, which gets a ton of attention and comments! But they’re truly good people, and I was happy to be allowed to represent them.

Riding in Texas

This was my first century-length ride in the Lone Star State, which I view as a milestone, since it’s such a vastly different environment from my familiar riding in the Northeast.

My top concern was the Texas heat, especially after months of temperatures hovering at or above 40°C. Riding in that kind of heat is seriously dangerous, and I wanted to be sure my first long ride offered the kind of generous support you get on large charity rides. Wisely, most centuries down here take place in the spring and fall, and we were lucky that event day hovered just below 40°C. But temperature concerns will always be present for every ride I do down here.

My second concern was the roads, not knowing quite what to expect in terms of traffic, surface quality, and space to ride. In the end, those things all vary. There were trafficky bits and quiet bits; there was smooth tarmac and ample rough chipseal; broad roads with dedicated bike lanes and narrow, single-lane roads without even a shoulder. Finding quiet, comfortable roads for long, solo rides is just going to require some investigation.

Once outside of the city and its immediate suburbs, the terrain was mostly what I’ll call scrubland. Plots of large ranches with low, hardy, weatherbeaten vegetation like juniper (which Texans call “cedar”) and live oak. There aren’t a ton of rivers and creeks – and those are nearly all dry after the summer’s heatwave – where you often see dramatic exposed limestone. It has a lot of character, without being entirely desert or prairie. The Blanco River crossing was really interesting, and I even shared the road with a roadrunner while climbing out of it.

At a macro level, riding in Texas is going to take some adjustment, but it should be amply doable, with careful scouting and route selection, and more experience managing my hydration.

Livestrong: the Event

This was also my first Livestrong ride. How was that?

The route was mostly fine. My only complaint was is that because the start/finish is downtown, a large percentage of the ride was urban and suburban strip mall hell, leaving less than a third of the route for scenic rural country roads. The entire second half of the ride paralleled ugly Interstate 35 on the run back to Austin. But the scenic bits we did get were thoroughly pleasant.

Ride support was generally great, with no less than nine water stops spaced about 16 km apart, well-stocked with ample ice and wet towels, although no cola was available until the end.

As a rider, the cutoff times for the century route were not especially generous, particularly after they were shortened an extra 30 minutes. Fortunately they weren’t an issue for me, though.

The fundraising minimum (ZERO!) was surprisingly welcoming, with premiums offered at varying – and entirely voluntary – fundraising thresholds. By raising $875, I earned an on-course tribute sign, a tote bag, a tee shirt, a cheap mini Bluetooth speaker, the ubiquitous water bottle, an event cycling jersey, and a finisher’s medal, plus the right to line up in the VIP section at the head of the ride. That’s a much friendlier model when compared to the PMC’s $2,000 to $6,000 fundraising requirement just to participate!

Unlike the PMC, where thousands of spectators — often former patients and their families – line the entire route and thank you for riding, community support was mostly non-existent on the Livestrong ride. Other than the crowd at the start/finish, a few bystanders waving from nearby bus stops, and water stop volunteers, during the entire ride I only encountered one couple sitting at the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, cheering their hearts out. The two events couldn’t be more different in that respect.

It all adds up to a mixed picture: a well-run and rider-friendly event for an organization that has wisely distanced itself from its shameful founder, and which Scott and Steven have convinced me does admirable work helping cancer patients and their families. And even if it’s no Pan-Mass Challenge or Dana-Farber Cancer Institute, I’m very likely to participate again in the future, for the same reasons I outlined above.

Epilogue

So there you have it; it was a landmark ride. To encapsulate, it was:

• My first Livestrong ride
• My first imperial century in 11 months
• My first century of 2023
• My first century in Texas
• My first century on Pæthos, my new bike
• My first century with my new Garmin bike GPS
• My first event as an official member of Team Kermit (or any team, for that matter)

While this century included a grim struggle and an ignoble footnote, I hold to my words that it was very good until it wasn’t. Troubles aside, I completed the course safely and enjoyed the overwhelming majority of it, and gained lots of lessons to bring forward for future rides. I enjoyed it immensely and am glad to have done it.