I didn't start visiting the Knoxville area until the Covid days back when the boom booms fell.
Anyhoo, the Steamer was my chance to do something I've wanted to do ever since staring at the massive trail system on Trail Forks and planning routes almost five years ago, to ride all (well most of) the things. I'd get to see frands, ride a butt load of incredible trails with a variety of "feels," and just enjoy the hangout of a long day on the bike and post-ride festivities.
The Summer Steamer did not disappoint. I personally might have tho.
I wanted to be just off the back of the local fasties and mebbe find myself in a group of Knoxvillians that would keep me rolling and not so much navigating the route with the aid of my Wahoo data acquisition device.
I fortunately and mebbe unfortunately latched onto the back of about fifteen fast locals who not only made quick work of the trails but were also willing to prioritize their day accordingly.
The first official aid station was at mile twenty nine or so and the next one was mebbe mile forty. Somewhere in between, half the wheels fell of my bus.
I started thinking about the sweaty fever dream I had the night before where I thought I was in heaven but I got there in a '70s car driven by a guy who looked homeless and I was dressed the same and we got out of the car and walked around in nothingness and he told me I just had to believe or I'd end up back in the car and I didn't believe so I ended back up in the car with him and also another guy dressed like us and the car stopped again and we once again stepped out into nothingness and this time I told myself this dream sucks and I woke up and wiped the sweat off my forehead...
Nobody likes hearing about someone's dream but a mini-Share the Wisdom Wednesday (but on a Thursday) might be don't follow up a few post-long drive beers by eating a burrito, a basket of tortilla chips, and several mini-tubs of salsa at 8:00pm chased by a couple more beers and go to sleep in a strange bed at 10:00pm thinking you're not gonna have fever dreams.
I was feeling more than just a bit off. We stopped to regroup (which was getting easier as our numbers fell off steadily), and I happened to notice that my heart was beating like a big bass drum just standing there. Swap my Wahoo data acquisition device from maps to data and..
Shit.
Am I dying?
My heart rate is in the high 150s just standing still, and it's not coming down. I wanted to google if a high heart rate was a symptom of heat stroke, but I'd have to bust open my Otter Box with a coin I don't have just to do it. Poop.
It took some googling, but this is the exact place I was on Transfarm when I was pretty sure I was dying or something.
Down at the aid station, I put ice down the back of my bibs, grabbed multiple Freeze Pops, and went prone in the grass where I could watch the Wahoo data acquisition device from a distance, hoping to see my heart rate field go from orange to mebbe yellow hopefully green and wishing for blue. I told some of my compatriots that I might be on my own journey from here, so it was no surprise that when I finally looked and saw blue... they were rolling on up the hill. Poop.
Grab my shit and make chase... up the steepest (IMHOMO) climb of the day. My heart rate was closer but still higher to my perceived effort than before, so I decided as long as I could keep it there, I'd be fine. Our groups is down to six now, and I'd hate to leave them (and all their local knowledge) so close to the finish. It was a struggle bus to the end, but the six of us managed to stay together.
So. Good.
Many beers, hot dogs (sans bun, some veggie), high fives, and proper beverages followed.
So, my Share the Wisdom Wednesday (but on a Thursday) bit.
I can remember two times when I was way younger, had no Wahoo data acquisition device, and went way too hard in the heat. At the '10 ORAMM and the '09 Cowbell Marathon (where the real feel got up to 114°), I ignored blatant warning signs up until I felt like a firecracker went off in my head. Like I said, I was way younger back then, and I was also slightly better than okay at making great bike race. I had performance-based expectations, and I allowed them to sway my decision making into the bad zone. I was an idiot.
I hear the "but did you die?" comments from the crowd, especially the chest-thumping, sissy-purse boy hating, jingoistic, stand back but stand down folks who wear their masculinity on their brown shirt sleeves.
No, I didn't.
That said, in these hotter conditions, do yourself a few favors. Listen to your body. Take advantage of any way to keep yourself cool. At the first aid station, I skipped the Freeze Pops, didn't take a Super Soaker load to the face, didn't shove ice down my bibs, didn't sit down in the shade while I waited for everyone to regroup at aid station one, drank nothing but room temperature (outdoor temperature) liquids, also probably coulda wore lighter colors and my non-black helmet...
I know the local weatherman has been taking great joy in shouting out "beat the heat" tips lately, but if you're like me, you might assume that you're an "athlete" and have the bases covered.
I also know some of you are saying "who watches local weather?"
Whatever. Take care of yourselves... regardless of your political stance or if you think I'm a purse-carrying sissy boy. I care about you too... because that's how being human works.
Or at least it should.
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