The Mileage Messiah

Today I rode another century, making two centuries on two consecutive Saturdays. Fendergal and Dorothy had arranged to meet in Manhattan and ride the Escape from New York Century, and they invited me along for the fun. After having a decent ride last weekend, my legs felt up to another big ride, and, on top of that, I am starting to learn just how addictive it can be to ride high miles; ordinarily, my race training keeps me from very long rides since I have to prepare for shorter, faster races.

The course for Escape from New York took me and Dorothy on some roads we had never before explored on our bikes. It started at Grant’s Tomb and headed north, crossed the Hudson on the George Washington Bridge, and then meandered all over northern New Jersey before heading back south. Good roads, fun terrain, and pretty scenery, marred only by the presence of Jersey drivers, who have their thumbs permanently welded to their horn buttons.

Fendergal is an absolute kick to ride with. For one thing, she knew the roads we were riding on quite well, so she acted as our guide. She is also very strong and rides with a beautifully smooth, fluid style that most racers seem to develop–either they develop it or they quit racing because they crash too much. At one point when we were riding side-by-side, we started goofing off, elbowing each other and riding with our handlebars almost touching, something I only do with riders I really trust.
The other extremely cool thing about riding with her is that she takes absolutely no crap from other riders. On a century, you get riders of all levels of fitness and experience, and many of them seem to be reasonably strong but just do not have the real riding abilities–the bike handling and group riding skills–that separate the enthusiasts from the serious. Usually, when I am riding a century and encounter these trying souls, I try to ride them off my wheel so I don’t have to deal with them–classic passive-aggressive behavior, I guess. Fendergal, though, is an enforcer. One dude was riding very obnoxiously, half-wheeling, listening to an iPod (on a group ride?!? What are you thinking?!), and generally riding like a doofus. Plus, we all rather snobbishly decided he was wearing a really stupid and ugly jersey. She yelled at him and told him to stop riding so dangerously. He complied for a while but finally decided to ride on his own. Snarkiness is so much more fun when you do it in a group–I highly recommend it.

After getting home from the ride, we went out to dinner, where I ate far too much, but since I probably burned close to 5,000 calories, I figured it was okay. I started to think more about these longer rides I have done lately, and I began to feel the urge to ride more longer rides, trying to do 150 miles or even 200 miles on my own. I need to become the Mileage Messiah.