On Sunday I did the Tour de l’Alberta. This year it was slightly longer at 187km (although only advertised at 185km.) I was a bit nervous with the broken toe, but it never really became a problem; it was locked into a non-flexible shoe so it didn’t have any straining to do.
The locking-in shoe did cause me to fall over twice, which may have been a bigger injury problem.
The first time was while waiting at the start line. I decided to turn around and take a picture of some friends. If you’ve been standing still for awhile, it is apparently easy to forget that one of your feet is stapled to your bike. I got the picture and then gracefully tipped over.
The second time was just after lunch. I apparently forgot how to get on a bike. I think I fell onto my back wheel.
The falls each had their own effect on my bicycle.
For the first leg, my bike was making a gear sound as I cycled. It went away if I kept my gear shift engaged. At the aid station there was a mechanic, so I got him to take a quick look at the bike and he did some adjustments to the gears. Soon after, while shifting to the lowest gear, my chain fell off. Easy enough to fix by myself, but I suspect my “mechanic” went too far in a certain direction. Since that was the last significant hill, it didn’t become a problem again.
After my post-lunch fall, I noticed that I couldn’t get into my highest gear anymore. That’s unfortunate, but it also removed the pressure to always be in the highest gear. I could ride a bit easier. And the back-half is rather nice. Well, once you leave Legal. You go through some nice country roads. A lot of the rest of the ride is on big highways with large trucks going by. They have good shoulders, but it isn’t as relaxing.
That’s the nice thing about running ultras; you get to see scenery. You climb mountains and see spectacular views. With a bike, you are confined to roads and civilized areas. I suppose it is different if you are a mountain biker, but they seem to have a crazy mentality that doesn’t suit me.
Mind you, these cyclists also are weird. They want to travel in packs. At one point I discovered I was leading a parade of people. It prompted me to go faster than I should have. I wised up after the aid station. Good thing, because before Legal there was an ambulance taking some cyclists away; two cyclists had collided, and caused a pile up with the three cyclists behind them.
At the end of the whole ride, I raced the last ten kilometres. I wanted to beat eight hours and 45 minutes. Because, why not? I think I beat 8:40, but it is hard to tell because it took me a few seconds to turn off my timer.
Once again, they gave us a stupid water bottle as a finisher prize. The only thing stopping me from screaming obscenities at the volunteer was that I know I’m supposed to be polite to the volunteers. I was hoping for something more permanent that would let me remember the effort. Another water bottle on the pile will quickly be forgotten.