3:45am - Dragged my ass out of bed. There was no question that I was getting up. Most mornings is a bit of a negotiation, but not on Sunday. Made a bowl of fresh oatmeal, a double dose instant coffee and a huge glass of water. Then I sat on the couch for at least an hour watching the weather channel and a few infomercials while I waited for the food to settle in. I'd packed my bags and put them in the truck the night before, so all I needed to do was load my bike into the truck and hit the road. I left around 5:30am.
5:50am - Arrived after a quick drive. No traffic except a couple of other cyclists driving to the same place I was. As I was unpacking, getting dressed and setting up my bike, I realized that I'd left the two bottles of Gatorade that were supposed to be on my bike in the fridge at home. There was no possibility I could hit a store for replacements before the event started. I had a sick feeling that the day was not going to go well. Owen met me while I was considering my situation and handed me my maps. I took a long shot and asked him if he had any spare water bottles I could borrow. At the very least, I could stop at the first gas station and fill a loaner up with something. He didn't have anything to share. Luckily, I had packed a spare bottle in my luggage with the intention of drinking it post ride. I'm usually totally dehydrated after my longer rides, so I always try to have something handy at the finish line. This gave me one 750ml bottle of Gatorade in addition to the 1.5l I was carrying in my Camelbak. It wasn't ideal, but certainly not as bad as I'd originally estimated.
6:00am - Mile Zero. After a quick speech from Owen about the road conditions, we left Square One. We started our clocks at the lights as we left the parking lot. We settled into groups pretty quickly. The peleton was fairly large at first, but it splintered into two groups pretty quickly as the faster riders left the mortals slightly behind. I rode through most of Mississauga and Oakville in this second group, but got dropped at a light leaving Oakville as most of the group went through a red while I waited for an impatient truck to advance on his green. Seemed like a smart idea so early in the ride. Becoming a hood ornament at the 20k mark didn't seem as impressive accomplishment as actually finishing out the day. I rode the next few kilometres by myself and eventually managed to put together a small pace group to help lighten the load. By the time we hit the first climb on Dundas street, there were about 6 of us.
8:00am - Mile Forty. That went quick. Too quick. I hadn't realized how far we'd come until we passed the Community Center in Ancaster. I finished a mountain bike race there in the spring and it took us forever to drive there for a pre-race checkin. Getting their on my bike in roughly 2 hours was a bit disconcerting. I knew there was no way that we could keep up a 20mph pace for the rest of the day. I didn't pull back quite yet because the wind (slightly at our backs) and roads (mostly flat) were still working in our favor. Didn't think about much except riding for miles on end. Relax. Breathe. Pedal. Somewhere along the way I pulled up to a cyclist who asked me if I was Ross Rader. Turns out we work together at Tucows. Small world.
Mile Seventy-Five. Wellandport. A quick break at the gas station. $9 in gatorade later, I'd refilled my water bottle and camelbak. This made me feel a little better. I had a few millilitres of fluid left and I was able to refill quick enough that the group didn't leave me behind. I bought two extra bottles of Gatorade and a small bottle of water. Drank the water, stuck one of the Gatorades in my bottle cage, and dropped the other one into the pouch on my Camelbak. By drinking smart, I knew that I'd be able to make it to at least the 250k mark with what I was carrying. Not the best situation, but I had no idea when I'd be able to stop next. We left less than ten minutes after we arrived.
Mile Seventy Six. I realized that in less than 25 miles, we'd be at the halfway point. If we covered the remaining distance to the halfway point in just over an hour that we'd have covered 100 miles in less than five hours. I've always wanted to do a sub-five century. Its like running a sub-three hour marathon. I foolishly dropped a gear and pulled my ride group for 20 kilometres.
Mile Ninety Eight-ish. We rolled under the Welland Canal and ignored the signs requesting that we cut across four lanes of traffic and take the sidewalk through the tunnel. I briefly entertained the idea that I should hold my breathe while under the canal per Bobby's advice. Decided against it at the last minute.
11:09am - Mile 100. I missed my sub-five by nine minutes. I only half cared. Riding a sub-five and doing a double century in the same day are almost mutually exclusive goals for all but the best of the best riders. The fastest recorded time for this ride was ten hours and four minutes, meaning that at least one of the legs were run in longer than five hours. I was pretty impressed that we did it that fast in any event. A normal century typically takes me closer to seven hours, which tells me that I need to ride harder when I'm just out having fun. There's a lot more in me than I'm letting out on a regular ride.
Mile 105-110 - Riding through Niagara Falls went quicker than I thought. We didn't stop for pictures or take our time. We were there to ride, and knew that the Falls would still be there if we wanted to go back and mingle with the tourists. We hooked up with a local rider who pulled us through lower Niagara Falls for a while. It was nice talking to him about his Hairshirt back in the 80's. Said it was the best ride of his life. He wished us well and pulled into a rest stop a couple of clicks past Beacon Hill. It was really starting to get hot.
Mile 110. Camelbak - empty. Water bottle - empty. Spare, gone. All I had left was the bottle I'd thrown into my bag. I tried to convince my pace group to stop with me for a quick refill, but I either wasn't convincing enough or they were in a bigger rush than I was. In the time that it took me to stop, pull off my Camelbak, pull out the spare, stick it in my bottle cage and put the Camelbak back on, they were already out of site. It took me about two seconds to realize that it would be stupid for me to try and catch up to them. Last thing I needed was to blow a fuse trying to catch up to a group that didn't want to wait in the first place - especially with so little fluid left.
Mile 115. All by myself, no place to go. Actually, I had lots of places to go, but I couldn't figure out whether I should go right, left or straight at the go-round on the Niagara Parkway. The map wasn't incredibly articulate on this point and the last thing I wanted to to was head out on a 20km guess. I decided to call Amanda to pass the time while I waited for the next ride group to catch up to me and get me pointed in the right direction. I called, we talked, I hung up. No riders. So I guessed and took a right turn. Thankfully, it was a good guess. About five minutes later, a pace group of 10 people passed me as we rode by Fort George. I managed to get caught up to them at Niagara on the Lake as the tourist traffic slowed everyone down.
Mile 120. Tim Hortons makes the best ham and swiss sandwich in the world. At least that's what it tasted like to me. Truthfully, you could have stuck the sole from a rubber boot between two pieces of sod and I would have wolfed it down. After 190 kilometres, anything that doesn't taste like Gatorade tastes good. While I was wolfing down my sod, half of the ride group left, leaving three others and myself at the restaurant. A few minutes later, another large group raced by without stopping. Doing the quick math, I realized that this put me somewhere near the back of the pack overall. I was totally ready to leave, but the other three weren't in much of a rush. My little voice was driving me crazy. I was tempted to go it alone and try to keep up the pace of the morning, but I realized that I hadn't put on a ton of mileage since the 100 mile mark and didn't have the momentum that the little voice thought I had. So I waited. We left after 30 minutes. Or maybe it was only 20. It felt more like 3 hours.
Mile 130. Going through St. Catharines was about as fast as could be expected. Lots of lights, lots of traffic. Hard to stay motivated in the stop and go.
Mile 141 or thereabouts. While we consulted the map at a corner, one of the guys pulled of under the shade of a tree. This quickly turned into a complete dismount, followed by a move to the prone position. The rest of us took the opportunity to refuel at a service station across the road. It was getting really hot and the guy in the shade was pretty cooked. I actually didn't think he was going to leave the gas station with us. He didn't call it quits, but the next few miles were pretty slow while he gathered himself up.
Mile 143. As we turned onto Fly Road, we were pointed straight into the wind. None of us were doing all that great and we struggled to keep a reasonable pace. The road was endless. So was the wind. We all grumbled a little bit for the next 15 miles and none of us were upset as we turned north and pointed ourselves down the escarpment for a well deserved high-speed coast. We stopped for more fuel somewhere in Hamilton.
Mile 168. We turned a double corner and I realized we were on my home turf as Wild Water Kingdom came into view. Last summer I would ride from home to the water park and back doing regular century rides on the weekend. Being this tired, it was nice to be on a road that had no suprises for me. We were all pretty quiet and intent on grinding out the last few miles.
Mile 185. I can't breathe. My vision is dim, slightly cloudy - undescribable, but concerning. And my heart rate is crazy. I ask the guys if we can pull over for a minute so I can take stock and figure out what to do. I figure I'm done at this point and half expected to pass out as I unclipped my cleats. I drank, ate, did some deep breathes. My heart rate was an overly rapid 145 beats per minute. Not good considering our level of exertion at that point. It should have been closer to 115. I smoodged back a gel and a half a powerbar, rolling up the other half and sticking it on my headstem. I was okay. Not great, but I was clear again. Clear enough to finish up I figured.
Mile 190 or so. As we turned onto Burnamthorpe for the final ten miles, we all picked up our pace and spirits a bit - at least for a few hundred yards at a time. We spread out here and there and generally worked our hardest to finish up the last bit as quickly as we could. Not a lot of team work at this point, but no one cared.
6:38pm. Mile 200. We're done. I was surprised at the number of cars that were still in the parking lot. I still had it in my head that we were bringing up the rear. Turns out that only 10 other riders came in before our group of four. Wow. I was completely exhausted and didn't miss the typical finishing line crowds that normally line up at normal events. We said our thank-you's and congratulated each other, and within 20 minutes, I was packed up and ready to go home. Very ready to go home. Exhausted, but happy.
7:20pm. Home. I ate a pizza, drank two litres of Gastrolyte and two litres of water and was in bed by 8:30. No dreams, dead sleep until 6:00 the next morning.
Would I do it again? Definitely. I remember the local from Niagara Falls. "Best ride of my life". I couldn't agree more.
