Snow ride

Date: Dec. 29
Mileage: 11.3
December mileage: 317.1
Temperature upon departure: 31

My snow ride today was slow ride. (sponsored by Adam. Thank you!) It took me nearly one and a half hours to do those 11.3 miles, mostly because I was dabbling on the ski trails while squinting against a torrent of wet, stinging flakes. And the conditions, well ... fresh, wet snow atop old rain-soaked snow means everything's soft and sinking. I was hoping to pound out 20 miles today, but I was not liking the visibility as it became dark. Plus, I had that annoying Foghat song running through my head ... Substituting some lyrics of course, and mashing my pedals to the rhythm ("snow ride ... take it easy.") Oh, and I received a dirty look from a skate skier. I always try to stay as far to the side as possible when I ride on established trails, but I think in these conditions, no one is happy.

There was one break in the blizzard early on. I pulled out my camera to snap a picture, only to find the lens, the screen, the viewfinder, pretty much everything soaked (it's not blurry - it's artistic.) It was a wet day. But a lot of fun! I am becoming much better at that whole steering thing. I'm also keeping my feet inside the cages for much longer periods of time. (Snow is a very unpredictable surface, but I am learning to trust my bike and steer through it rather than put my foot down ... just like learning to ride in sand.) I'm up to 317 outside miles this month. Think I can break 400 by New Year's? I doubt it ... but it's fun to dream.

Cool before fumes

So I received some lectures for my post yesterday, and rightly so (apparently, even my use of the word 'bonked' was a bad choice, although I have no desire to find out its other meaning. Each hemisphere has its own way of mangling the English language. Those Aussies probably wince at the word 'bonked' the same way we do when a Brit asks if he can bum a fag.) Anyway, I probably have a tendency to embellish a bit, and I really wasn't as bad off as I made it sound. I was just trying to point out that I'm not laboring under a delusion that a few weeks of training is going to turn me into an unstoppable endurance racer.

I know nutrition is important (I had Alpha-Bits for breakfast - now featuring "0 grams of sugar" and "rich in whole grain like Cherrios, plus has letter learning fun!") And I know training is important (Three-mile run and 45 minutes on the trainer today, thank you very much.) And I'm learning that understanding when to say when is important, too (although I think that actually having both the time and determination to overtrain would only happen in my deepest dreams.) But when I'm down in the trenches, pushing my bike through torrential drifts of snow, all of my preparations, the Alpha Bits and the evening jogs, will fade into memories of a pleasant but distant past. In those dark moments, everything will be a battle of wits, Jill against herself. I think my best defense against the dreaded "scratch" is gaining an understanding of what my body can do when it's running on little else than Power Bars and pure will, and train myself to extend that fuel a little bit further.

"Bonked"

Date: Dec. 27
Mileage: 16.4 (plus one hour on the trainer)
December mileage: 305.8
Temperature upon departure: 35

Cyclists have their own term for the special, fluffy sort of feeling one experiences when their blood depletes entirely of sugar, when their legs go AWOL and they begin to see imaginary bunnies darting in front of them - they call it "bonking," and it basically means you've gone as far as you're gonna.

I've never bonked before, although I have many experiences where I think I may have been on the precipice. Either way, bonking is definitely something I fear, and training for the Susitna 100 is as much about preparing for the psychological warfare of bonking as it is about building up my quads.

Today I was so, so tired when I stumbled home from work just before 3 p.m. I don't know why. Getting to bed late and waking up early wasn't exactly it, either. My whole body was on the riot path. Since Tuesday is the one day of the week when I can reliably return home while there's still a smidgen of daylight, I try to get out first thing. I went upstairs and commenced the layering process, pulling on a pair of fleece pants and socks, and then just stopped - for no reason - and stared into space for the longest time.

When I finally got out the front door, there was a driving sleet coating everything as it hit - my front steps, the packed snow, my jacket, my bike. Official sunset wasn't for another hour, but a dark mist soaked the sky with all the monotony of night. Every bit of common sense I have been blessed with was yelling, "this is not the kind of day for a bicycle ride." But one of my New Year's resolutions is to no longer allow myself the luxury to decide that.

I did the slow climb to Ohlson Mountain Road and back, bouncing over then rock-hard snowbanks along the way and trying to push harder, but mostly forgetting to do so. I came home feeling full to my waist in lactic acid and, well, sort of fluffy too. It wasn't even a hard ride, so I was frustrated with myself. I made some dinner, cleaned up, and began to think about how I hadn't tried hard enough.

I don't know why I kept going. It was 7 p.m. and all I wanted to do was sleep; I'd just felt off and I had been that way all day. Just one of those days. But I got on the trainer. I had to see what it felt like. I had to know. Also, it seemed like the perfect time to finally get around to watching "Teen Wolf Too" (a friend in Idaho gave me the DVD before I moved to Alaska because he thinks I'm in love with Jason Bateman. Whether or not that's true, it still has to be one of the worst teen movies ever made - and that's saying something.) Anyway, as I pedaled and willed myself to push harder and tried to keep from wincing at the dialogue, I began to feel better. I put in 65 minutes before deciding I had successfully conquered the creeping "bonk." Now I feel a lot more energized - go figure.