A Note from Fatty to Utah Participants in the 100 Miles of Nowhere: If you’re in Utah County or SLC, why don’t you come do the 100 Miles of Nowhere with me? There’ll be food, fun, movies, the guy from Ride the Divide, and probably some cool giveaways. Send me an email right away, letting me know you’re interested. I need to get a headcount.
The St. George Ironman is barely a month a way, which means I should probably start training for it sometime within the next three weeks.
Ha ha! I’m just kidding, of course. I’m hard at work, training for the Ironman. Otherwise, how can I possibly hope to win it!
Specifically, I am concentrating on my transitions.
The Importance of Transitions
For those poor saps out there who don’t know what a triathlon “transition” is, let me explain. The transition is the part of the tri (those of us in the know call the noble sport of triathlon “tri”) where you stop doing one sport, change into a new outfit, and then begin the next sport.
It’s also when you make a very important mental transition, telling yourself things like, “I am no longer a swimmer who is out for blood. Now I am a wobbly cyclist who can’t hold a line.”
Transitions are widely known as the third most exciting part of a triathlon. Partly because there’s a good chance you’re going to see someone naked, partly because everyone’s so agitated and panicked that they tend to bumble about comically, tripping in their shorts and putting their shoes on the wrong feet.
By the way, in case you’re interested, the second most exciting part of a triathlon is the start of the swim, because that is a huge, bloody battle and a fun place to make bets on how many racers, after the start, are left stunned and bobbing facedown in the water, having received a debilitating kick to the head.
A well-executed transition can happen in under two minutes, while a poorly-executed transition may take up to two and a half minutes. Which can totally make all the difference.
And that is why I have begun devoting ninety minutes each day to doing transition drills, developing my skills and technique.
My Transition Strategy
As an aspiring triathlete, it’s very important to me that I do everything in the most efficient way possible. Toward that end, I am currently testing a number of transitioning strategies, timing them to see which is the fastest. Here is the short list from which I hope to soon choose a final transition technique:
Garanimals: In this scenario, I simply have everything I need for every event kept in one giant tote bag. Cleverly, I have sewn brightly colored patches of cloth onto each item belonging to each event. Everything for the bike has a green patch. Everything for he run has a red patch. So, when I get into the transition area, I simply begin grabbing stuff out. If it has the appropriate color of patch, I put it on. It’s as simple as it is elegant. Sadly, I am red/green colorblind, so thus far I have had limited success with this this strategy
The Onion Method: I begin the day by putting on my running shorts and shirt. Over this, I put my bib shorts, then cycling jersey. Then my socks: a pair of running socks, covered by a pair of cycling socks. Then my cycling helmet, covered with a swim cap. Then, finally, my wetsuit. Then, as I finish each porition of the event, I merely peel off a layer, put on the appropriate shoes, and go. So far, the only problems I have are chafing, getting the wetsuit over all these clothes, and the fact that I am completely immobile and lose circulation to my arms and legs with this getup on. Which are minor problems, really; I’m pretty sure I can work them out..
Go for Simplicity: While both my above solutions are excellent in their own right, I’ve been considering just doing the entire race — the swim, the bike ride, and the run — in my awesome Aqua Sphere Icon Wetsuit. For one thing, I would save a huge amount of time otherwise expended in stripping the wetsuit. For another thing, I look and feel like a superhero in that wetsuit and would intimidate other competitors if I were to wear it. Especially if I wore a cape (a short one for the ride to keep it out of the moving parts of my bike, a longer cape for the run, so it would billow more fully). Best of all, I think I would lose about 80 pounds by wearing the wetsuit through the entire Ironman, so would finally be able to stop dieting.
My Transition Technique
Naturally, my transition strategy — no matter how brilliantly conceived — won’t work if I can’t execute it flawlessly. To ensure that I will be able to save the precious seconds in my race, I have begun serious training (all triathlete training must be conducted seriously) in transition speed and endurance.
For example, this morning I did 15 “reps” of transitioning from my wetsuit into my biking clothes. And I am exhausted. I tell you what: I have totally new respect for triathletes after that.
Tomorrow, my workout will be all about transitioning from cycling to running gear. Because this is an easier change, I plan to do “speed transition drills,” changing back and forth between cycling and running clothes up to 50 times.
And on Saturday — my long workout day — I hope to do transitioning “bricks,” where I change from the wetsuit to cycling clothes, then to running clothes. I will repeat this transitioning workout until I am simply too tired to zip up the wetsuit anymore.
This is ambitious, I know. But I — like all triathletes — am very serious about my transitioning.
In fact, I am so serious about my transitions, that I am focusing on them exclusively, figuring that if I can change clothes and get out on the course as fast as possible, the rest of the Ironman — the swimming, biking, and running parts — will kind of take care of themselves.
I can hardly wait for the transitions to begin!
PS to 100 Miles of Nowhere Participants: You know how I said that participants in the 100 Miles of Nowhere would get a Banjo Brothers Mini Seat Bag? Well, the guys at Banjo Brothers took a look at their inventory and found that they don’t have 500 of that Mini Seat Bag. So — awesome guys that they are — they’re instead going to give participants the Deluxe Mini Seat Bag. It’s the same size, but comes with better construction and little pockets that make it easy to organize the stuff in the bag.
Huge thanks to the Banjo Brothers guys for taking a little problem and turning it into a big win for the 100 Miles of Nowhere participants.
PPS: I hear that Willie of Willie’s Dawgs in Brooklyn noticed my niece wearing her Fat Cyclist t-shirt a few days ago, and said he reads the blog. So: a shout-out to Willie, as well as to my niece, who is brave enough to wear a “Fat Cyclist” t-shirt to school. (My own children will do no such thing.)
A Get-Em-Before-They’re Gone Note from Fatty: Registration for theThird Annual 100 Miles of Nowherehas been selling pretty darn briskly. So darn briskly, in fact, that by the time the Twin Six guys went to bed, there were just a few dozen slots left. Rather than leave registration open overnight and wind up overselling the event, they suspended registration for the evening. But it’s open again, right now. Men, register here. Women, register here.
There are fewer than 40 slots available at this point, and I’m certain they will sell out within an hour or two.So if you’re going to register, do it now.
Update: The 100 Miles of Nowhere is SOLD OUT. Thanks to the 500 people who signed up!
The Grand Illusion
I don’t mean to boast (yes I do), but I’ve made it through the winter without gaining much weight at all. Maybe five or seven pounds. Maybe nine or ten at the most.
Okay, I’ve gained eleven pounds during Winter. But compared to my usual annual weight gain / loss pattern, that’s practically like losing fifteen pounds. Practically.
And so it was with no small amount of pride a few days ago that I, at the beginning of the South Suncrest climb, marked another rider so far ahead of me that I couldn’t even tell what color his (or her) clothes were. A veritable dot of a cyclist, on the mountain equivalent of the horizon. And then — this is the part in which I have pride quantified as “no small amount” — I caught, briefly chatted with, and then dropped him (for it was indeed a him).
“Clearly,” I thought to myself, “I am a force to be reckoned with.”
And I continued my ride, feeling strong. Feeling fit. Feeling like I am — as I have recently mentioned — a force to be reckoned with. My legs turning smooth circles, my arms applying exactly the correct amount of counterbalance to my downstroke, so that I ride a smooth, clean line.
I was powerful, efficient. A cyclist in the prime of my life.
Then, once home, I swung my right leg over the saddle (I always dismount on the left, though I’ve never considered why) clicked out of my left pedal, and was on the ground once more.
And then I limped through my front door and up the stairs to my bedroom. Needing the rail, because I can barely walk.
I stripped and turned on the shower, then attempted my “while the water heats up” ritual: doing sets of pullups. For today’s ritual, my sets were remarkably consistent: 0, none, and zero. This is because I have — once again — recently injured my shoulder, and it hurts too much to haul my weight up to the chinup bar.
As I sat in the shower, I contemplated the ride and the events that followed. Which was when I had the following great epiphany:
Cycling is popular with middle-aged people because it gives you the illusion of being in great shape, even though your body is completely falling apart.
What the Illusion Feels Like
Cycling, by being no-impact on road and only moderate-impact on cross-country trails, gives you the sensation that you are whole and healthy. And why not? You’re climbing up mountains and flying down them, all under your own power.
And the bonus is, if you’ve been doing it for a few years, your legs magically transform and you can — in spite of being middle-aged — show those young’uns a thing or two.
And if you keep it up, you continue to improve, getting stronger and faster while everyone you know complains about getting slower and older.
It’s like the Fountain of Youth
The Reality
The problem — which I just recently banged my head against — is that cycling makes you fit within a tiny little narrow set of parameters.
Specifically, cycling has made me very fit to turn my legs in small, smooth circles, under heavy load, almost indefinitely. And it’s made my arms — forearms, especially — very fit at counterpulling against the downstroke of my pedals, again, almost indefinitely.
This kind of fitness translates, once I’m off the bike, to…um…nothing. As I mentioned before, walking hurts right now. Running is out of the question (which should make for an interesting Ironman in a month and change).
And while my arms look toned — having done near-infinite low-effort reps — I am not the guy you want to help move your piano.
And I’m far from the only example of this kind of pseudo-fitness. Take Kenny, for example. He looks strong, and on the bike he is nigh indestructible.
Off the bike, however, he walks gingerly, and if you punch him in the arm, it will break.
And the thing is, this illusion perpetuates itself. Off the bike, I’m human. OK, fine: subhuman.
On the bike, I’m strong like bull.
So, given an opportunity, where do you think I’m going to be?
Is it weird for me to be all excited about riding 100 miles on my rollers on May 8?
It is? OK, I kind of thought so.
But I can’t help it. I’m excited. I’m excited because last year I loved the stories people sent in and I’m excited to read — and post — more of them this year.
I’m excited because I’ve got awesome schwag for everyone, as well as some very cool “door prizes” a few people are going to be surprised with.
I’m excited because this year we’re all going to watch a not-yet-available-to-the-public movie while we ride — and it’s topical and everything!
Most of all, though, I’m excited because together we’re going to have a lot of fun and a little bit of suffering together while we raise a bunch of money for Team Fatty’s LiveStrong challenge.
We’re having fun, getting schwag, getting a really hard workout, being ridiculous and giving cancer the finger — all at the same time.
So if you already are sold and know what this is about, you can register now — here for men, here for women.
Or read on for details.
What Is the 100 Miles of Nowhere?
The 100 Miles of Nowhere is a race without a place. It’s an event in which hundreds of people participate . . . all by ourselves.
It’s a very strange thing where you pay $95 for the privilege of riding your rollers, trainer, or a very small course (like around the block) for 100 miles. And then the profits from your entry go to LiveStrong, to help them as they help people, worldwide, in their battles against cancer.
I did the first annual one by myself, back before I knew it would be annual at all. The second one a bunch of us — from all around the world — did together, and people sent in their stories, many of which I published here.
This year, the “official” date of the race is Saturday, May 8, and the time is whenever is convenient for you.
And, thanks to the flexibility of the event — i.e., it’s just you, really — if May 8 doesn’t work for you, you can do it another day.
Like in October, if you feel like it.
And also, the “100 Miles” part is more of a guideline than a rule. For example, if you would rather ride 50 miles, that’s fine with me. So is 25.
Or if you’re a runner and you want to do a marathon on the treadmill, that would be awesome. If you’re a swimmer, swim five miles. I’m not picky.
And of course, the very best thing about the 100 Miles of Nowhere is that you are going to win your division. You just need to make sure your division is specific enough that there’s no chance anyone else is in it.
For example, I’m pretty sure I’m going to win the “Middle-Aged Cycling Satire Bloggers Based Out of Alpine, Utah” division.
In fact, I hope to dominate that category.
What Do You Get?
I have mentioned, a time or fifty, that one of my most impressive superpowers is the ability to ask companies for stuff. I’m completely unashamed. And, as it turns out, when I have a good cause, companies are more than willing to help out.
Yep, it’s true: most companies are full of people who like to do something good, and interesting, and unique.
So here are the cool things you’re going to get from the very cool sponsors of this year’s 100 Miles of Nowhere:
The T-Shirt: I love Twin Six designs, and I love the way they use nice American Apparel t-shirts to print those designs on, so I have an event t-shirt I’ll actually wear. The shirt is up at the top of this post, but what the heck
A free online viewing of Ride the Divide, a film following racers in last year’s Great Divide Race. This movie — not yet available to the public — will be online and exclusively available to participants in the 100 Miles of Nowhere on May 8. Furthermore, Mike Dion — a Friend of Fatty and one of the stars of the movie — will be riding the 100 Miles of Nowhere with me and anyone who chooses to join me in the bike shop where I’ll be doing this event. Check out the trailer:
AClif Bar, a package ofShot Bloks, and a package ofShot Roks: My love of Shot Bloks (except the Margarita ones) is well known. What I have not mentioned, however, is that I think the new White Chocolate Macadamia Clif Bar is incredibly delicious. Like, cookie-delicious. And the Shot Roks are the tastiest protein fuel-type food I’ve ever had.
And I’m not just saying that because Shot Roks are the only tasty protein fuel-food I’ve ever eaten. Even though they are.
The important thing is, Clif is coming out with energy food that you will — get this — actually enjoy eating.
Which seems like a brilliant achievement, in spite of it being obvious.
But if it’s so obvious, how come nobody else is doing it?
DZ Nuts Sampler : A while back, I reviewed Dave Zabriskie’s Nuts. And I was glad I did, because that opened the door for a 4 sample packets of this taintastic chamois lube. As part of your 100 Miles of Nowhere Schwag kit, you’re going to get to get four sample packs of DZ Nuts, and you’ll probably want to use one of those sample packs during the event itself.
Imagine: you’re going to get to liberally apply the same stuff to your chamois that Dave Zabriskie does. It’s like a dream come true.
And then you should feel perfectly at easy making “taint” jokes for the next several hours.
It’s your right as a consumer of DZ Nuts.
CarboRocket : It’s kind of awesome having one of your best friends be a wild-eyed inventor and entrepreneur. It’s even more awesome when one of his ideas turns out to be really great. My friend Brad is this inventor, and CarboRocket is — without question — the best sports drink in the universe. As a participant in the 100 Miles of Nowhere, you’ll get to try it out for yourself and see if you agree. I kinda think you will.
You’ll get two single-serving packets of this all-natural, mild-tasting sports drink. And then you’ll wish you had more.
Banjo Brothers Mini Seat Bag: You know who the first advertiser I ever had was? You know who the first company that ever did giveaways with me was? In both cases, it was Banjo Brothers, a small company making great bags for cyclists. I have this Mini Seat Bag on every single bike I own — both road and mountain.
You can fit a tube, a couple CO2 cartridges and adapter, a tire lever, and a small bike tool in there. And a couple of bills, in case you want to stop at a convenience store. It’s honestly about as perfect of an unobtrusive bike bag as there could be, by a couple of guys who ride bikes and know what cyclists need.
Aspire : You’ll get an autographed copy of Aspire: Discovering Your Purpose Through the Power of Words , written by Friend of Fatty Kevin Hall, and published by Harper-Collins.
Follow Kevin’s voyage of learning some words you probably don’t know, along with the deeper meaning of some words maybe you thought you knew.
This is a book I think you’ll want to share. And also, you may want to spend a few minutes thinking about the fact that poor Kevin’s going to have to autograph 500 books.
Which cracks me up, for some reason.
Timex: A cap, to hide your helmet hair after the ride. And also to fool people into assuming that maybe you’ve done an Ironman or something. For once, let people’s false assumptions work in your favor.
“100% Clean” Garmin-Slipstream Camelbak Podium Bottle : I have re-purposed all of my old bottles because I love the new Camelbak Podium Bottles so much. And while I normally ask you to buy one with my logo on it, if you’re doing the 100 Miles of Nowhere, you get a Garmin-Slipstream one for free.
I love the way this team supports us in the fight against cancer. And I’m sure Lance does too.
What Else Might You Get?
I’m currently working on some awesome “door prizes” to give to some lucky random people. I haven’t nailed all of these prizes down, but I wouldn’t be surprised to see the following go into some schwag boxes:
In late April / early May, you’ll get your kit, and you’ll be all set to go.
Now, there are a couple things you need to be aware of:
You can do this race anywhere: One of the nice things about 100 Miles to Nowhere is that it can be anywhere. I’ve had people ask me if they can do the race in Europe and Canada, and the answer is yes. Shipping might be a little more, and your schwag box may not get to you by race day, but that shouldn’t stop you from signing up.
The race is capped at 500: The sponsors of this event have very real costs associated with this event, and since — mostly — it’s small companies sponsoring the 100 Miles of Nowhere, I need to assure them that they’re not going to have to come up with — for example — 2000 seat bags. So, once we hit 500 participants, registration is over. If we don’t hit the 500 participants, registration goes through March 28. You should know, however, that more than 150 people signed up before I even posted today’s entry, so I have a feeling this thing’s gonna fill up. I wouldn’t delay if I were you.
Got a question? Leave it in the comments. I’ll answer it in comments — or if it seems like something a lot of people are wondering, I’ll update this post.
And In Conclusion…
This will be a lot of fun, and it will be very stupid, and it will do a lot of good.
Thanks for racing nowhere for 100 miles with me!
PS: If you’re a fan of Twin Six art and want to proclaim your 100 Miles of Nowhere loyalty on your computer, you’ll find a desktop-ready image here.
I got a lot of comments and email yesterday, asking me to respond. So here’s my gut response:
A lot of people in the universe are jerks. Most of these people, sadly, have enormous metal weapons known as “cars.” This guy is one of those jerks with cars. The only difference is he has a radio show.
He didn’t say anything new, or interesting. Just stupid.
What is interesting, however, is that Lance Armstrong really got into this. Here are some of his tweets from yesterday:
…just off the phone w/ Tony Kornheiser who’s very sorry 4 his comments re: cyclists. Going on the show 2morrow 2 discuss this w/ him.
Yes, that’s right. Tony, by being a total jerk, has gotten an interview with Lance Armstrong.
So, let’s liveblog that show right now.
9:04: Lance begins by accepting Tony’s apology (Tony called Lance and apologized, which is fine…for Lance). Says that he accepts the apology and thinks it’s sincere.
9:05: Lance is talking about a guy in NC who got killed yesterday by a car. Says, “Let’s all get along here.”
9:07: Tony says that yesterday Lance said that people in cars will get behind tractors or horses and wait forever, but get crazy angry when they get behind a cyclist. Asks why this is so. Lance says he doesn’t know. Says that he’s seen people do crazy things to avoid squirrels or dogs on the road, but get angry at cyclists on the road.
9:08: Lance says that 40 years ago, 40% of kids rode their bikes to school and there was 14% obesity rate. Now 3% ride to school, and obesity is much higher.
9:09: Lance talks about a hypothetical 40-year-old woman who gets brushed by a rear-view mirror, says she’ll never ride again. We need bike lanes for people who are new to riding, so people can ride and feel safe.
9:11: Lance asks Tony the furthest he’s ever ridden a bike, Tony admits to not riding at all, except spin classes. Tony makes fun of cycling clothes, Lance points out that all athletic clothing looks silly outside its context.
9:12: Tony asks Lance what it’s like to daily get the kind of scrutiny Tony’s getting because of this event. Lance takes the opportunity to tell him that this is the way the world is now, you big fool. Word spreads fast. Lance also holds Tony’s feet to the fire and reminds him that he was a jerk, for real.
9:15: Tony asks Lance why he retired and then came back to cycling. Great question, Tony, since it hasn’t been asked a million times before.
9:16: Lance tells him he’s racing to raise cancer awareness, and because he likes racing.
9:17: Tony asks Lance if he really drinks Ultra. Lance dances around the question, then finally says, “Yes, I drink Ultra.”
9:18: Tony says, “Someday we’ll go on a ride and then drink an Ultra together, OK?” And Lance says, “Sure,” essentially.
So the lesson we can all take from this, kids, is that if you want to go on a ride or have an interview with Lance Armstrong, get a radio show and urge people to run over cyclists.
Then just sit back and let the Internet do its thing.
Post-Interview Thoughts
Here are my “Now that I’ve had a few minutes to think” reactions to this whole thing:
I need sleep.
It’s easy for me to forget that a lot of people who listen to Kornheiser’s show wouldn’t have heard the outrage that came in response to it. So while to me it seems like Kornheiser was “punished” for his bad behavior by getting an interview with a guest he would have never otherwise netted, Lance coming on the show was probably a good thing for cycling and maybe hopefully got some people to reconsider their angry attitude toward cyclists.
Kornheiser was a jerk for, after all this, needling Armstrong on the Ultra thing. Armstrong just gave him an easier time than he deserved, and Tony finishes by attacking the source of Armstrong’s paycheck?
Perhaps the third most ridiculous thing I have ever done is invent the 100 Miles of Nowhere. The second most ridiculous thing was to drink a bottle of Cholula in one sitting, and I elect at this time to not disclose the most ridiculous thing I have ever done, because it is far to embarrassing, and because it will probably make a pretty good blog entry at some point.
Anyway.
I am happy to announce that you too have the opportunity to participate in the third annual 100 Miles of Nowhere, with all profits going — once again — to Team Fatty’s LiveStrong Challenge.
What is the 100 Miles of Nowhere, you ask? Good question. Long ago, I rode 100 miles on my rollers in a single sitting, just to be bullheaded. Other people thought it sounded like something we ought to do as a group, so last year we did. Many people rode on their rollers or trainers, others rode a very small loop near their house.
The idea, basically, is to ride an infuriatingly small course for 100 miles, to fight cancer and to show you have no sense at all. People did it, and sent in awesome race reports, including one video that was so awesome I watched it five times. Watch it and tremble.
More details will be coming soon (like, on Monday), but the essentials are listed below (with the super-essential stuff conveniently bolded for, well, your convenience):
Registration for the event is March 22 – 28 (or ’til the event sells out), and is pre-register only.
As with last year, your registration makes you an official participant in the race and a guaranteed winner of whatever division you choose.
The schwag box you’ll receive is on the extra-awesome side of the awesome scale, and will include the Twin Six T-shirt you see above, along with good stuff from Clif, DZ Nuts, Timex, CarboRocket, Team Garmin-Transitions, Harper-Collins, Banjo Brothers, and more (I’m being coy about the “more” part ‘cuz I’m still working deals and stuff). How awesome is that? Very, very awesome.
Registration will be $95.00 this year.
This event is capped at 500 participants. This is because I’ve asked the sponsors to provide awesome schwag, and they don’t have an infinite amount to spread around. And Twin Six — who, against their better judgment will be doing fulfillment for this race again — doesn’t have the capacity to send out a zillion boxes.
The race is May 8. Or you can do it May 7. Or whenever, really. But for solidarity, you should do it on May 8. Unless you’ve got something important going on. In which case you should do it a different day. Have I made myself clear?
If you’re a local — i.e., Utah County or SLC — you should plan on doing this event with me. I haven’t gotten the details finalized, but I plan on borrowing some bike shop space and making this a group thing. It will be fun! Just kidding, it won’t be fun. But it will be less un-fun.
As always, you get to be the one who decides what your route will be. You can be very bland — like me — and just ride your rollers or trainer. Or you can ride around the block for 100 miles. Or around the high school track. Or around your cul-de-sac. Regardless, you’re sure to generate a very interesting GPS breadcrumb, as well as a strong aversion to whatever route location you choose.
PS to 100 Miles of Nowhere Participants: You know how I said that participants in the 100 Miles of Nowhere would get a Banjo Brothers Mini Seat Bag? Well, the guys at Banjo Brothers took a look at their inventory and found that they don’t have 500 of that Mini Seat Bag. So — awesome guys that they are — they’re instead going to give participants the Deluxe Mini Seat Bag. It’s the same size, but comes with better construction and little pockets that make it easy to organize the stuff in the bag.
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