Felt so good to ride hard enough it hurts to walk down stairs

Back in the day, which is, oh, a year ago now? Back in the day I’d ride every Tuesday, every Thursday, every Sunday.. no matter what. Which meant sometimes in the rain. Sometimes in really nasty rain. Sometimes in really nasty rain and cold. And, sometimes, although far more rarely, in the snow.

Something happened this year. Somehow the appeal of riding in really nasty stuff, or even just damp, went away. Some of it came with the increased responsibilities making sure my wife is getting the best-possible care with her cancer, some of it from my Raynauds (circulation issue to my hands) worsening, and some because, as I get older and lose power, I can’t generate the same amount of heat to stay warm. That last part is likely overlooked by many; when you can do 280 watts for an extended period of time, you’re burning alot of calories and generating a lot of heat. At 200 watts, not so much!

The problem is that I lose a lot of strength when I skip those wet days and ride a trainer instead. I’m good for far fewer watts on a trainer, maybe 155 watts average, vs 180 in the real world. After a number of wet days, that deficit starts adding up.

So Sunday (yesterday) I was determined to get in a longer-distance albeit slower ride in the real world. Texted ex-pilot who was good for the same. What I didn’t expect was 4 other guys showing up, all much stronger, and I was quickly in a very bad way heading up Kings. For that matter, I do Kings too much as it is, so I wasn’t in a good mindset for a Sunday ride up Kings as well! They nicely waited at the top, and I had didn’t have much trouble hanging onto wheels on Skyline. Should mention we were doing a coastal loop, heading out to the coast via 84 and back Tunitas.

Heading out 84 to the coast, it was all about following wheels. Bruce M is a powerhouse, but I was determined to hold that wheel and not get dropped. Did fine until one of the final small rises maybe 4 miles from San Gregorio, when I just couldn’t get up the small hill without losing speed (and the wheel).

No stop for coffee in San Gregorio!!! This train wasn’t stopping for anything, and I didn’t want to be left behind. So right up Stage Road to Highway 1, again, me behind, maybe 30 seconds or so, at the top. Followed by the descent to Tunitas on a beautifully-clear day.

Kevin and Bruce (forgot to mention Bruce, who was providing the “muscle” on the flats and downhills) stopped at the Bike Hut for relief, while I headed straight up, hoping to not get passed by them too quickly. Turns out they spent a LONG time stopped; Bruce caught me just before the end of the steep part, and Kevin finished a minute or two behind me.

It was really nice to finally get in some real climbing and have my legs hurt when walking down steps afterward. That’s my test. If the legs hurt walking down stairs, I done good.

Finally made it up Ventoux. Sort of.

This is Kevin (my son, not ex-pilot) in 2009, his first time up Ventoux, my second or third... have lost track). This is as far as I've ever gotten, due to road closures during the race.
This is Kevin (my son, not ex-pilot) in 2009, his first time up Ventoux, my second or third… have lost track). This is as far as I’ve ever gotten, due to road closures during the race.

Ventoux and I have a bit of history. It was my first big climb in France, on my first trip, back in 2000. A bit of a mess; the day started in the mid-80s but by the time we got to the base of Ventoux (as part of 7000 other cyclists in the “citizen’s” event/race at the Tour de France) it was getting a bit cloudy, and as we suffered our way up it got colder and colder and then it rained… I was one of the few prepared for nasty stuff, having experienced a wicked turn of weather for the worse a month prior on Sonora Pass. But many others not so fortunate, one person even dying from exposure. By the time I got to Chalet Raynard, just 4 miles to go, they closed off the summit. I wasn’t too happy about that, so close to my goal, but they had to make room for a steady stream of ambulances and busses that were hauling people off the mountain to safety.

The next two trips to Ventoux were with Kevin, and each time we got a bit further before the gendarmes shut down the road. Frustrating, but close enough to enjoy the amazing views and it’s one of those climbs where getting that close is close enough to still write you “climbed” Ventoux without attaching an asterisk to it.

I think I’ve still got it in me to do one more climb up Ventoux, maybe this Summer or the next. Flash forward now to this morning. It was raining outside, so I set up the trainer. Not so bad I couldn’t have ridden, but I still need to get the bike set up for it. At 7:45am I did get a text from ex-pilot, wondering where I was. Yikes. So he was brave enough and I was being a wimp? Shortly after came another text, “Just kidding.”

I was looking over the various Zwift ride options, and noticed the tab for “France.” OK, that might be interesting, what’s on tap? The only recognizable one was Ventoux. Did I have enough time for it? What would such an obnoxious grade feel like on a trainer? How would I feel if I didn’t make to the top?

It was brutal. I should have started earlier. It was also pretty realistic; I could place every turn, all the steepest parts felt so familiar. Not much of a warm-up, just a couple miles of 4 or 5% grade and then it hits with all cylinders.

It’s not THAT long a climb, nothing like the Galibier. Just under 13 miles/21 kilometers, and just over 5000ft. The Galibier is 34 kilometers less 5k descent in the middle, with a total of 6,960ft of climbing. But it’s relentless with very long stretches of grade just over 9%. Zwift doesn’t quite get the atmosphere right though; in real-life, the mid section of Ventoux is the worst because any view you might have is completely obscured by the forest around you. No such forest on Zwift. And yet they still managed to capture the Lunar-landscape feel toward the top, even without the forest providing contrast.

It’s also a bit odd that the view from up high is the sea… definitely not the case in real life. I’ve read that on a particularly clear day you can catch a glimpse of the Mediterranean, but on Zwift, the sea is everything you see looking south.

That 10k to go marker… where is it? In real life, you live for that 10k to go marker; it feels like you’re almost there (nevermind that you’ve still got over 6 miles, substantially longer than King’s 4.3 miles in total). Zwift provides you with a display in miles, but let’s have kilometers please; they progress more quickly!

And no food stands on Zwift. There are crowds cheering you on, but if you look not too closely you’ll notice it’s the same people, usually wearing the same outfits, doing the same waves. One woman even shows up multiple times in the same scenes. Weirdly, you start looking for her.

Time was running out. The idea of finishing by 10am and heading down to the shop with my wife at 10:20 (after a very much required shower) was not a reality. I started to worry this was going to be yet another attempt that didn’t quite make it to the top! Surprisingly, I was able to coax more out of my legs the last four miles than I had the rest of the way, spurred on by the dreaded fear of not making the time cut.

I did make it. With two miles to go I decided there really wasn’t a choice; I had to. I *think* the very top is a bit different on Zwift than in real life; a big flat area with a road that circles around it, which is kind of the Zwift way of doing things. Kind of like the real-life Barcelonette.

Because I was running late, it was just up the hill, all ascent, no change to race back down and accumulate some miles. This was all effort but very few miles. Did it feel like actually climbing 5000ft in the real world? Surprisingly, yes. I felt the effort for several hours, not something I’ve previously experienced on Zwift. Much of that might have been from the added 30 or so watts I pushed during the final part of the climb.

Will I do it again? Probably, but with a bit more time, and a bit more of a warm-up before hitting the climb. Will I ever be able to deliver as much power on Zwift as in the real world? Not likely. I did find I was doing better, or at least it felt a bit more real, if I allowed myself to rock side-to-side a bit. But overall I’m convincing myself I can’t let rain stop me from getting out in the real world.