Day 523 - Part 2: Century Bike Ride to Montauk (50-101.4 Miles)!

Okay so you got a nice little break there, now back to business...

So we made it to Aid station 2 (50 miles) and I have to say at this point I was incredibly surprised that I was feeling so great. I thought that at this point I would have begun to feel as I normally had on my training rides by mile 50 - like hell. So I was immensely excited to feel like my legs were solid and I didn't have any major cramping or soreness yet. Even my butt felt okay! All of this just put me in an even better mood. So we headed over to the aid station area to see what goodies were available to us this time. We quickly noticed that the group of folks milling about was considerably larger than the last station, but less spiffy looking. A lot of the bikes as well started to have the 70 mile and 50 mile "tags" on them, signaling that these folks were only doing a 70 or 50 mile ride that day. There were a few lines for the port-o-potties and for water, but not a whole lot going on at the food tent. This concerned me because I was craving some more hummus and pita and I suddenly realized that these other folks may have gotten there before us and eaten it all. Turns out I was right on the money. The food available at this station was incredibly sparse and consisted of PB&J, whole grain bread (yuck! - plain white is way easier to digest), and some fruit. We grabbed a couple of cups of fruit, and then decided to skip waiting in line for food we didn't want and use the facilities instead. I was a little bummed out because I was hoping for some more nutella banana and hummus, but you live and learn. Next time I do a century my crew (mom and co.) will be stocked with nutella, bananas, and hummus.

So we headed back to our bikes and stretched out a bit. I was excited to get going again, but also a bit nervous and to what lay ahead (the unknown). As I said previously, the furthest ride I had done on my bike up until that point was 56 miles and I was only 6 miles from that now. I tried to bury that nervousness by eating a ton of food: fruit snacks, blue corn salted chips, Honey Stinger honey waffles, and pretzels. Mom was also so kind and shared with Greg and I the lunch she packed for herself (you're awesome mom), the most delicious sandwich ever: thin-sliced turkey, lettuce, cheese, and mayo on white bread. I was so happy about this sandwich, I can't even tell you. It may sound like I was eating a lot that day, but if you do the math, the amount of kcals burned during a century is absurd, so eating even half of what you loose isn't quite enough. But don't worry I ate tons before, during, and after. But eventually it was time to stop eating and get back on the bike. So with that we waved goodbye to mom again and were off. This next portion promised to have some of the most beautiful sights along the ride-course and I was excited.

We talked for a while about our pace and if we should continue on our previous string of 'let's go fast' or should we start conserving energy. We decided to start conserving energy, which meant coasting a bit on the down hills and not trying to be Lance Armstrong. This actually was very helpful because miles 50 to 75 were probably the hardest miles along the course and all of the energy conserved was a good thing. This portion of the course goes through the only hills on Long Island and while they are not like the killers in Arlington or Mt. Vernon, they will still leave you winded as hell, because there are about 5000 of them. Little rolling hills, great for driving in a vehicle over, sucks to ride over on a bike. I am not a hill person, I do not like them in pretty much any context, but most especially on a bike. After the 3rd hill, I started to get tired and cranky. Luckily, Greg has known me pretty much my entire life and knows how to handle my unpleasantness. With ear plugs. Haha! No, I'm kidding. He handled my bad attitude with kind-hearted understanding and food. More fruit snacks, the last of the tasty waffle things, and some chips to make my forget about my tired legs.

My mood perked up for the time being due to being fed and starting on one of the prettiest parts of the course, Dune Rd. in the Hamptons. For those of you unfamiliar with Strong Island (yes, I said it, giggle away), the Hamptons, specifically East Hampton, is where all the rich people live and/or have beach houses. Dune Rd. is a long road that goes along behind some of the most insanely beautiful beach houses you've ever seen. As one would suspect by the name, there are no trees on this portion of the course, a good 15 miles, and thus no shade. I'm going to take a minute and show you two pictures: one of cyclists on Dune Rd from a previous year the event was held, and the second a house which I'm pretty sure we saw from the road while riding (please note that both pictures were borrowed from google image search and are not mine):

Cyclists along Dune Rd - The crazy houses are off to the right hand side of the frame



Ridiculous beach house along Dune Rd

 On this particular day, it was beautiful and sunny without a cloud in the sky, which was surprising after the massive storm the night before. What wasn't too surprising was how hot it very quickly became and the flooding along Dune Rd., which was just annoying more than anything else. So we rode along, talking about rich people, how they waste their money, the crazy houses out there, and also the wildlife. Every once in a while we'd encounter a flooded area that we couldn't/didn't want to ride through and had to carry our bikes over the small patches of land on the sides of the road. Between the heat, carrying the bikes on our backs, and bringing our own food with us, it started to feel more and more like an adventure race than a century ride. I could tell I was loosing energy fast, but I tried very hard to keep drinking and eating and pedalling, the whole time thinking, 'One foot in front of the other.' That simple phrase has gotten me through more rough patches than I can begin to explain. It's like the Winston Churchill quote, "If you're going through hell, keep going."

Finally we reached the bridge (the first "big hill") which would take us on towards the next Aid station (AS 3 - Mile 75). I don't know why but as soon as I saw that bridge, I just wanted to push up it as hard as possible. I wanted to crush the bridge. So I pedaled as hard as I could, but being as tired as I was, I basically crawled up the bridge on the lowest of all of my gears. By the time we reached the top of the hump, I was so excited for the zippy ride down. I looked back at Greg who gave me the 'all clear' thumbs up and I flew down the other side. I am not the kinda girl who likes things fast - I don't like sprinting, fast food or driving fast - but I make an exception for certain things like flying downhill on my bike (also skydiving). And that downhill perked me up for the rest of the ride to Aid station 3... that and the half bag of Welch's fruit snacks.

Heading up towards Aid station 3 was very exciting because I knew it meant that we had accomplished a huge part of our goal. Seventy-five miles was the furthest I'd ridden up until that point. While I was feeling very hot and tired, I had been told earlier on the ride that this was the aid station with the pie, and I was excited. I knew I needed some sugar to get my energy levels back up and at this point I'd run out of the Honey Stinger waffles and the fruit snacks just weren't cutting it. So I was very focused on getting to that station and getting me some tasty pie! Also a random tidbit, we saw a majority of the flats for those who didn't get a flat in the first leg, in this section, also plenty of varmints. Before I knew it, I could see the big windmill and dozens of cyclists milling around the open lawn, many with pie in hand. I was so relieved that we made it this far!

Made it to Aid station 3 and still smiling!



Pie Time!

So after some pie and chatting with mum for a bit, we set off to finish this epic journey and ride only 25 more miles (which at this point seemed like nothing) to the finish line in Montauk. A wave of relief came over me as we got back on the bikes and I found that my legs still were able to pedal and that while I was tired and sore, it wasn't all that bad. These kinds of experiences give me faith in my ability to complete an ultra-marathon. If I can dig deep enough to keep pedalling my bike even though my legs were starting to feel like lead weights, I know I can keep running when I just want to stop and take a nap. I don't think I give my legs enough credit. My legs (and feet) have carried me through so many hard times and yet they still keep going when I remind them, 'Hey guys, I need you to dig deep, it's not a nightmare, we're really doing this, keep moving.' They only complain occasionally (via fracturing or tendon tearing), but for the most part they are solid companions, always sticking with me for the long haul. And on this beautiful, sunny, perfect temperature day, my little feet were going to take me 25 more miles to Montauk.

The next portion of the ride took us through some of the houses of the richest people on Long Island. There were tall ones with sharp modern angles and fancy ones decked out with huge yards and expensive cars in the driveway. There were at least 3 or 4 "manors" that sprawled across 5-7+ acres of land and one even had a stone fence wall and a wooden gate (only 1 flat in this leg and 2 varmints, they clean up good 'round these parts!). It was pretty astounding to me the things that rich people do with their money. Greg and I talked for a good long while about the ridiculous-ness of the houses and what people choose to spend their money on. I could think of better things to do with a 6 figure income than build a beach monstrosity, like spend it on exercise gear and running shoes and then donating a ton of it to charities. Then we then rode past what I felt was the most ridiculous house of all along this route; it was basically the White House, only the color was a light yellow shade, and slightly more sprawling. It was ridiculous. I was laughing for a good 20 minutes about it. Speaking of funny things, I forgot to mention this earlier, but as we rode on and on this occurrence became funnier and funnier: the clipping out and subsequent clipping back into the bike pedals at stop lights. When everyone had to clip back in to start pedaling again because the light changed to green, all you heard was this mixture of clicking and popping noises for a good solid 2 minutes. You may have just needed to be there, but it was immensely funny to hear.

The next part of the ride was very familiar to me, as we have driven it countless times on trips out to Montauk and Amagansett, so I fell into a rather comfortable rhythm of pedalling and chatting with Greg. The road went from a scenic view of fancy houses to the main drag of the road out to Montauk. This road is essentially a highway with traffic in 2 or 3 lanes and us cyclists riding along the shoulder. Luckily the shoulder for the road was huge and we had plenty of room to ride side by side, though most of the time it was so loud from the cars and wind you really couldn't hear a whole lot of what was said by the other person. But it was still fun. Greg also would call out when we got to a new distance: 80, 85, 90 miles which really motivated me because I was so surprised that now we were nearing the finish line and eventually I would be able to stop pedaling. Haha! Just kidding, I was simply amazed that my body allowed me to ride for this long and not shut down, not bonk (too badly), not give up, and not get injured. I was both excited and surprised.

We passed by many of the "we're going out to Montauk" landmarks, such as Cyril's Fish House with the plethora of cars parked around it, music blasting and tons of drunk folks... at like 2pm, no big deal, it's just Montauk youngsters; the Lobster Roll restaurant that we always went and looked forward to as kids because we could get HUGE lobster dinners there, they also had a swordfish on the wall that I was scared of, and the Neptune bar with the big fish on the outside that says "Neptune" on his brightly colored face, and of course the split in the road between Montauk Highway and Old Montauk highway, where we were two years ago on our family vacation at Heather Hills and I ran those hills while Greg followed my on his bike cheering me on. While I was reliving old happy memories, I almost missed the fact that we were AT the split in the road which signified that we were very very close to the end of our journey. While I was so excited that we made it, I also became sentimental and didn't want it to end. Greg and I had had such a great time, I was kinda sad that it was ending. My butt on the other hand couldn't wait to no longer be on the bike seat.

Almost immediately upon heading up the fork to the left (Montauk Highway), I realized that we were going uphill... again. So I turned around and asked Greg, "Is this THE big hill?" And he assured me it was. So I summoned the last of my strength and energy and yelled, "LET'S DO THIS!" Annnnnd processed to very slowly pedal uphill. It felt like a very long winding journey up with some parts steeper than others - it was also ridiculously noisy with the cars and the wind - but I felt strong heading up that hill and was very excited about the finish line. Then relatively quickly, we crested the hill and were heading down. On a bit of a high from kicking that hill's butt, I yelled out to Greg, "Is that all!? Was that it!? Pfft! That was nothing, Give me something harder!!" Well... you know that old saying 'Ask and yee shall receive'... well I did. Turns out that was the first big hill and the second one was going to be substantially more difficult as it was bigger, steeper, and longer. With my smack talk still lingering in the air, I yelled, "Aw Hell!!" into the wind.

There is something amazingly annoying about traversing hills on your bike (and often on foot as well); they are the worst, the complete pits, but they are not impossible. If you just keep pedaling, your tired feet and legs may not like it, but they will in fact keep going. By this last hill I was exhausted, probably more tired than I have ever been in my life, but somehow I kept pushing on. I kept moving my legs, engaging my quads and  hamstrings, and I kept pedalling forward. Near the top of this last hill we saw mom drive by waving at us, which motivated me even more to keep pushing forward, because now we were less than 5 miles from the finish line. And just like that our uphill climb became a downhill, a steep fast bit at first and then it leveled off for a while. We saw a lot of people along the side of the road laying down, stretching out, and talking on their cell phones. This actually surprised me because by this point all I could think about was finishing. I couldn't comprehend why anyone would stop here when being done with your 9+ hour ride would be over in just a few more miles. But to each his own, I guess.

Then on a quiet patch of downhill with greenery on either side of the road Greg slowly counted down as we hit the 100 mile mark (the distance varies with races like these so we knew it was likely that we'd hit 100 before we hit the finish line). 99.5, 99.7, 99.8, 99.9..... 100 MILES!!! It was a really cool moment because it was just us riding along and in that moment we'd completed our goal and had a great time doing it. The rest was downhill from there, literally. We zipped into town alongside the usual to-Montauk traffic making them jealous that they could not move along as quickly as us cyclists. Almost got in two accidents when drivers frustrated by sitting in traffic tried to drive in the bike lane. Did a nice little fish tail move on the first person and almost crashed into the second all while yelling at them in a loud obnoxious New Yorker-esque voice. Then before we knew it, there was Mom and Scott and Zee waving and smiling and just beyond them was about a thousand or more cyclists and the "finish line." And then, it was over. Seemingly as quickly as it began we were out of the bike saddles and talking about the last leg of the trip and how we felt, and all that jazz. I was so very grateful to Greg for sticking with me and putting up with my complaining and whining and endless, incessant talking as he has always done. Hopefully it was a Father's day he'll always remember. It was an amazing ride and an awesome day and now for some amusing finish line photos.


YEAY 101.4 Miles Done!! :)

A lovely face when we finally took our sunglasses off... Very Bright.



Uploading Finish Line pics and updates to facebook



Another lovely face, explaining how tired I am



All smiles and laughter at the finish

 So I learned a lot from this crazy awesome century ride; the importance of a great cycling partner who will feed you and listen to you complain, the unfaltering kindness and love of an amazing family, the mental strength it takes to push through your pain and exhaustion, and the perfect simplicity of the fulfillment in achieving what you set out to accomplish. The whole point of endurance events is to be challenging; to push your body up to and then beyond it's known limits. I love this. I love the challenge to push above and beyond, to conquer your fears and face your demons. I like being face to face with every doubt I have, every bit of uncertainty and fear in me, and smacking it back down in its place. I guess now I can call myself an endurance athlete. :) 

My advice to you? Let your feet guide you on your journey from being unsure of your abilities to then knowing that you are stronger than any challenge that stands in your way. You can always put on foot in front of the other, always.