Wyckoff Triathlon Slideshow (dotPhoto)

Bike Virginia - Sir Duke

The wildcard rider on this trip was James, the classicly featured cowboy hatted ex-RA from Tuscarora known as the Duke. Could this father of 6, who runs several of his own businesses, be up to the task? His training regimen had been secretive. Indeed, we weren't sure if he had yet purchased a road worthy bike!

The Dream we knew to be in tip top form (see my former post), and Ed the Head aka Mercxx the triathlete celebrity from DC was equally a known quantity. With over 3000 bike miles logged this year, yours truly, a newbie to the triathlete circuit, was raring to go. But what about Sir Duke?

If it's one thing we knew about the Duke, it was that he is a dogged competitor and natural at whatever sport he attempts. As for example when challenged to lawn darts at the Piedome, he performed under pressure when he nearly solo handedly put the screws to Sparky to eke out a "V". (In this case, the "V" stands for both victory and for a vendetta immediately put out by Sparky who is currently tuning up for his ultimate revenge match later next week at the Piedome.)

But biking is a sport that requires above all else, experience. You need to put in the miles to get to know your bike, to shift at the right times and in the right gears, to build up your aerobic capacity to complete the century, and to build up and fine tune those leg muscles whether climbing or sprinting.

The first ride was a metric century (100K). The crew, with fresh legs put Duke to the test. We settled into a rather moderate pace and looked back...Duke was hanging on. We ran up the hills without slowing a bit and looked back and Duke was hanging on. We completed the first leg to the rest area and Duke was with us. Indeed, he was with us the whole way!

How is it possible? Do not the laws of physics apply equally to all men? Apparently not, as Duke showed us throughout this Bike Virginia that it can be done. Duke had many years of staying fit, and incredible athletic prowess. This combined with a sharp mind that quickly picked up on the necessary riding skills and techniques allowed him to stay with the pack for most of the tour despite the paltry number of miles on the bike prior to the event.




There were some minor setbacks, but none that were not expected. Duke was new to bike shoes and did not have his cletes properly adjusted, making it difficult for him to get out of them (we all went through this). He did take a minor spill as a result of getting stuck in the pedal that resulted in a skinned knee.




And there were some surprises. Duke had never changed a flat tire before, so when his tire flatted on the dreaded Battleground, not far from where the British surrendered, he relied on instincts and some minor instructions and changed the flat in what seemed like record time for a beginner. In fact, he enjoyed the experience so much that when Dean picked up every shard of glass and such and flatted three tires, and when my tire was ripped apart by the Battleground turf, the Duke was there to lend a ready and needed hand. Thank you Sir Duke.

Bike Virginia - The Dream

One of the joys of riding in an event such as Bike Virginia is the chance to ride along roads for seemingly endless miles without stopping for a stop light or for traffic. Most roads we encountered were major backroads that had no stop signs for many, many miles. And, at major intersections, they had Police stopping traffic to wave you on. This meant we could open up and hammer with only the wind in front of us.

When I use the word hammer, the man that comes to mind is Dean "The Dream". Dean was part of our foursome and is a former Elite class runner who, up until knee surgery while in his 40s, was running at a 5:30/mile pace at local 10K and 5 mile races. To someone like myself who has yet to break a 9:00/mile pace, this is a seeming impossibility!

Now, you take the Dream and you put him in a gym for a few years, have him take spin classes and do multi hour elliptical workouts and then set him loose on Bike Virginia and what do you think you get? An explosion that is impressive to watch. Even at the end of a 100 mile day at pretty impressive speeds, Dean was still ready to hammer and I bet he had another 100 miles in him for that day.

While I know some folks in my bike club that would give their left nut to have Dean's skills, Dean is humble to the core about his talent (and hard work). No fancy bike shirts sporting Italian racing vendors. No tatoos. No carbon bike with aero bars. No shirts that say "Stop Whinning and Keep Climbing" (yes, we did see such shirts on our tour).

For Dean it's a Garciapara Tshirt, racing shoes and an off the rack low end racer for a bike that he keeps in mothballs in Virgina to be ridden twice maybe three times a year. During BVA, the Dream was at times moving so fast people didn't have enough time to read that name on the back of his shirt. Oh yeah, there was this one fellow who managed to get a glimpse of it and so he says to Dean "Funny, you don't look Spanish." And that conversation confirmed that intelligent tests are not a prerequisite to riding Bike Virginia.

One particular ride, we spot a pace line with members in matching shirts. The logo across the back reads -- "The Lard Butts". In a classic case of understatement (or is it irony), they proceed to whiz by us. Dean mentions that he remembered seeing them on a former BVA ride and that they were a pretty fast group despite their name. Next time around, we caught up with them and they pulled us for a good 20 miles without one stop, averaging between 22-24 MPH. It was an amazing pull, and although I have been on faster pulls, never for that long a distance. Dean turns around to look at me, beaming, he states, "You know I love this". Did I mention that the Dreams other nickname is the Flash?

Bike Virginia - Tour de Jet - 2007

The crack of dawn was breaking as the Duke headed to my abode to begin the journey. It would be a death defying ride down to Virginia for the duo.

A freak accident on 95 North in Maryland caused a van to travel across the divide and tumble several times at highway speeds toward my South bound car. Quick manuevering avoided further tragedy and near certain death. Though an ominous sign, it fortunately did not portend of things to come.

Cell phones kept us in touch with the dynamic pair of Merckx and Armstrong, our old college buddies and cyclists who would round out our foursome. Armstrong last seen in his Albany days weighing in at 145 lbs was now a muscular powerhouse exhibiting a well hidden 'roid like physique - the result of many evenings in the gyms of Boston.

Merckx, the self proclaimed "most recognized" triathlete in and around the DC circuit came dressed in his DC Tri Gear well tuned after a full winter and fall of cycling that included commuting to and from his job on the bike, afterwhich he could be seen either running the streets of DC or swimming in its lakes. If there was an ounce of body fat on him it eluded my eyesight.

Duke came along with cell phone in hand to conduct business and a pair of Everlast weight lifting gloves. If not for his helmet and shoes little would give clue he was about to embark on a hefty bicycling adventure. While I had every conceivable piece of bike gear from multiple sleak jerseys, frame pump with built in guage, eyeglass mirror, gel pants, gel gloves, and special cycling sunglasses, Duke proved to be the gearless wonder - proving that talent could overcome the need for biking gear, and talent is a quality that he held in abundance. I still don't quite understand how he finished the journey with the amount of crisis he had to overcome, the kind that comes with running several businesses.

Friday evening before the event was the time to register, check in to our hotel in Chester, VA, and to share dinner with 2000 of our soon to be fellow cyclists. There were carbon and titanium road bikes, leisure bikes, mountain bikes, tandems, foldups, and recumbents. There were as many different bicycles as their were people. And they came from all over the country.

We begin the adventure from James Blair High school in the sleepy town of Hopewell, Virgina. We extract and assemble our bikes from our cars and gear up. The final act of filling up our water bottles with a choice of water or Hammer Heed (a vile tasting protein laced eletrolyte solution) precedes the initial push forward. We plan to do the full 65 miles touring in and around Hopewell and its neighboring towns.

The tour is thankfully uneventful. Leading the group was fun and we managed for the most part to stay together for much of the ride. This was Duke's longest ride to date, and he was feeling good but concerned that he probably should not try to do the next day's century if he wanted to insure he would make it through the entire event.

more to come ...

The Wyckoff/Franklin Lakes Triathlon

Well its done.

Completed my first tirathlon, the Wyckoff tri, with a time of 2:13:49, about the best I could have expected. Weather was perfect, mood and atmosphere was the best. The competition opened with a beautiful rendition of the Star Spangeld Banner which caused my eyes to well up. The site of all of the particpants around the lake on a gorgeous morning of my first triathlon, with a soundtrack of this incredible live rendtion of our anthem put me at ease. I was both calm and excited at the same time.

Biking compadres Patti, Molly and Julie went off on the second wave with the women, and I would not see them again until the finish line.

I waded into the water waiting to begin. The water was a mild 75 degrees and clear. Word came and my wave, the last of the group, began with a mad dash. I got kicked and slapped but the wet suit kept me bouyant. The crowd thinned out as I veered off course but hey, at least I was enjoying the swim without getting a beating.

After exiting the water I had about a 1/4 mile (or so it seemed) walk/jog over ashpalt and gravel and grass to the the transition area. I found myself staggering, not sure footed at all. Something about the swim that throws you off kilter.

Got to the transition area and needed to regain my composure and figure out what to do. Wrenched myself out of the wet suit, cleaned my feet with water from my water bottle, refilled it with bottled water, put on my bike jersey and race belt, put on helmet and sunglasses and then socks and bike shoes. I was off. The volunteers kept shouting "walk your bicycles", so in the shape I was in, I literally walked it about another 1/8 mile to the ashpalt course. I should have been jogging with the bike, duh! Needless to say, my transition time was a wopping 5 minutes. Sheeesh. After this I promise never, never to make fun of Julie's transition times again.

Once on the bike I felt at home. Passing other cyclists the first few miles seemed like shooting sitting ducks. The tougher competition was way ahead by now. Fighting traffic was a pain. Had to slow down several times due to traffic. I paced myself nicely so I would not get beat up by the two back to back hills near the end. All went as planned.

I racked the bike in the transition area and fueled up with some gel and water (probably not necessary). Ripped off the helmet, threw on the sneakers and then, what the.... I obviously needed more brick workouts. The legs were jelly. Figured I was dead in the water, wouldn't make it. All those cyclists that I passed were now passing me on the run. Started chatting with a fellow from Paramus. A volunteer saw us chatting and said "you're making this look too easy". Then I realized that I had quite a bit left, so began to increase the pace and said goodbye to Paramus guy. The knee was holding out as I got a Cho-Pat band from Ironman Larry Grogin the Chiropracter (thanks Larry!). It was working like a charm.

On the run, I accepted a water cup from the cute high school volunteers and tried to drink it. It was a Kramer moment. I hadn't ever done this on the run and it wasn't easy to do. It was sloshing all over the place and I gulped it and took too much water in and starting a coughing fit. I guess I haven't figured out how to gasp, run and drink at the same time.

Was starting to feel better and I spied the Shelton photographer up ahead. Now, the last photo I sent my college roomante Dean he commented about the "less than world class" runners that were seen in the background. With this in mind, I noticed a fit couple just a head of me with just enough room for me to pass them if I turn it on before the photographer sets up for the picture. I put it in high gear and pass them, hoping that his photo will have a more heathier looking set of runners beside me to impress Dean. Boy, the things you go through when you have Dean as a roomate! I was laughing on the inside at my little prank. Have to wait for the photos to be published to see if I accomplished my goal.

Heading towards the finish line it's all downhill and I am at full stride kicking butt (to the extent a 9:55 miler can kick butt). My wife, son Eric and brother Jeff spot me sprinting to the finish (Jeff thinks for a second that I sprinted the whole way, then realizes it's still me, just can't fool 'em can ya), for a grand ending supported by the cheers from the many Glen Rock Tri group members who cheer loudly for all wearing the GRTRI colors.



I completed the course without drowning or stopping, which is a good thing. I did the 1/2 mile swim and jog to the transition area (including veering off course) in 22 minutes. A bit better than expected. I expected 24 minutes. But, Andrew at Ridgewood Cycle did say the wet suit he sold me would take 2 minutes off my swim time. Amazing how that works out. Anyway, have learned that I have to spot more frequently and be a bit more aggressive, rather than move to the outside. Wetsuit worked well, weather and lake was picture perfect.

I averaged 18.6 on the bike. This was as expected. Probably could not have done much differently. Will likely improve on this a bit through installation of aerobars, and better pacing. I did not draft but plenty of others did.

I ran a pace of 9:55/mile. This will likely improve if I focus my training on the run. My back was bothering me a bit during the run, but I am still a heel striker and need to work on form.

Came in 27th in my age group, out of 39 participants, 519th overall out of 723. I beat the time I expected, which was 2:15, so I was extremely pleased with the outcome of my first triathlon.

I stay for the award ceremony to watch Julie get her award for placing 2nd in her age group. During the award ceremony, I recognize Gayle from spin class. She and I had chatted about how she had run the Wyckoff triathlon many years ago but stopped. I had encouraged her to do it. Not only did she do it, but she came in first in her competitive age group (45-50) with an amazing time of 1:48. She credits the spin classes (she averaged 19.6 on the bike!). Looks like I will have to go back to spin class more often.

My next triathlon is August 19th at West Point.

And that's the way it was,

84 miles on Tuesday

The Tuesday ride with Carver took us out to Sugarloaf, NY. One wrong turn added an extra 4 miles of scenic upstate NY scenery. The weather was in the high 70s with a bit of a breeze. In short, picture perfect spring weather for biking.

We rolled out of Mountain View for a quick stop at the Dunkin Donuts. Julie went ahead and engaged in some ominous conversation with a talkative traveler. We caught up with them and received a bit of caution about biking the roads of West Milford. The traveler went on to discuss the perils of road biking, all of which we are all too familiar with. His warnings, however, could not put a damper on the day.

On our previous ride, Fred had gotten a flat and while changing the tire, lost a wing nut leaving his bike incapacitated. We reluctantly left him on the side of the road as we headed back to our car to pick him up. During this time, Fred managed to locate a samaritan who lent him a hand and located a nut that would work temporarily. No such calamaties occurred on this ride.

Stay tuned for more vignettes of my bike rides on the Biker's Blog