Week 3 of 42, On the Road to RAAM 2015
Week 3 was epic—it started off with a triple workout, and it ended with a triple century. (Woah… I just realized the coincidental 3–3–3. Totally didn’t plan that! =)
Sleep Strategies for RAAM
The farther I go down this road to RAAM, the more I am learning about what is important when it comes to optimizing my training.
At the same time, I am also becoming aware of things that I should keep in mind in preparation for my Race Across America in June 2015.
In short, I figured I need to start taking a slightly more scientific approach to my training. By scientific, I don’t necessarily mean sophisticated data collection and number crunching. But what I do mean is taking advantage of simple laws of nature. Rather than working against my body, I need to be working with it.
Top on the list for this week is sleep strategy. How should I plan my sleep schedule for RAAM? How long should I sleep at one time? Does it even matter?
The Stages of Sleep
In some quick investigative research on Wikipedia, I learned about the stages of sleep. There are two categories: REM and non-REM, where REM stands for Rapid-Eye Movement.
Each night, we go through cycles of sleep, normally in this order: (N signifies non-REM)
N1 –> N2 -> N3 –> N2 -> REM.
N3 is the deep sleep phase (Stage 3 and 4).
There is a greater amount of deep sleep earlier in the night, whereas later in the night there is more REM sleep. Additionally, the older you get the less REM sleep you have each night (infants spend 80% of their sleep in REM, whereas an adult could spend only 40%).
Adults reach the REM sleep phase about every 90 minutes. And there’s a handful of theories out there related to the purpose of REM sleep, such as memory consolidation. It is also the stage of sleep where dreams occur.
REM sleep deprivation can lead to hallucinations (common to RAAM racers). But it was interesting to learn that REM sleep deprivation may actually be useful to people who suffer from depression. (But don’t take my word for it, I am honestly just scraping Google for information without much due diligence—I leave that up to interested readers.)
Stage 2 of sleep is where your body temperature starts to decrease and your heart rate begins to slow.
Stage 3 is where bed-wetting and sleepwalking tend to occur. It also seems that the blood supply to muscles increases, tissue growth and repair occurs, and hormones are released, such as: growth hormone, essential for growth and development, including muscle development.
My conclusion: Every stage of sleep seems important (duh, right) so forget the science, I’ll just brute-force my way through RAAM, sleep deprived at every stage (haha!). Okay, okay, I’m only kidding, I’m not that crazy.
I’ve heard it said that 15–30 minute “power naps” are popular amongst RAW/RAAM racers, though I’m certain riders do have some extended sleeps of 60 minutes or more. (Just haven’t talked with enough RAAM veterans yet to find out.)
Coffee Nap
Coincidentally, during my daily online reading, I also came across a concept called the “coffee nap.”
Researchers claim that a cup of coffee before a quick power nap increases the impact of caffeine on the brain. The strategy is to essentially trick your brain.
You see, when caffeine enters your brain through your bloodstream, it binds to these receptors that are essentially your “I feel sleepy” indicators. Normally, a similarly shaped molecule, called Adenosine, is what binds to these receptors. And it’s Adenosine that is responsible for you feeling tired. But when you sleep, Adenosine is naturally cleared from these receptors, and by the time you wake up the end result is no more Adenosine, and therefore, no more feeling tired.
So the idea behind the coffee nap is this:
- Drink a strong shot of coffee.
- Immediately try to sleep to clear the Adenosine from the receptors in your brain. Set your alarm for about 20–25 minutes. When you wake up, there will be less Adenosine attached to your receptors, just in time for the caffeine to kick in, and to attach to your brain’s receptors.
The end result of the coffee nap is less Adenosine, more caffeine, and therefore, a greater effect than either coffee or a nap, on their own.
However, though this may work for your daily rut of lack of concentration, focus, or energy, it is only a temporary stimulation. I’m not sure how long the benefits of a single coffee nap lasts, but I’m sure it wouldn’t be a sustainable strategy for up to 12 days of sleep deprivation. But nonetheless, it is a tool under the belt in cases of dire desperation when one is only 20 miles away from the RAAM finish line but is having a hard time not falling into an eternal sleep, only to wake up to find out they’ve missed the 12 day cutoff time. Ouch! That would hurt.
Whatever sleep strategies I employ for my Race Across America, I will first have to test them out on multi-day sleep-deprived training rides. Human performance tends to be very subjective and specific to each individual.
For Christoph Strasser, the current RAAM champion and record holder, around 5 hours of total sleep seems to be all he needs for about 7 days of bicycling.
Hmm… Sleep deprivation training is going to be interesting—to say the least.
Training Notes
Monday – Today was my second ever triple workout—
The day started with my 45-mile morning commute from San Jose to Livermore via Calaveras—it never gets old; it’s so beautiful out there!
I set a Personal Record (PR) today on my morning commute – 18.6 mph average speed, over 2 hours 25 minutes 26 seconds.
Then, after a two hour rest at the office, I set off for my noon ride with the Livermore Cycletrons. Departing from Lawrence Livermore National Lab, the Monday course took us through the Altamont/Pattesron Pass route (the same ride as Thursdays).
There were a lot more riders today, compared to what I’m used to seeing during the same ride on Thursdays. This led to a very high-paced first half of the ride, where the course consists of fast rolling hills.
I wasn’t trying to push very hard, knowing today was a triple workout. So I spent most of the time in the middle of the pack. It got scary at times, flying between 35 — 40 mph on a tight single lane in a pack of bicyclists through rolling, winding hills. Fortunately, no bad incidences to report.
It was also a moderately windy day, especially once we hit Patterson Pass, where it tends to be horrendously windy.
Once we began the climb up Patterson Pass, I remained conservative, sticking behind the lead group. But I was feeling good and saw a single guy taking the brunt of the winds as he pulled the pack, so I made my way to the front. My intention was to take a turn pulling the group—to give the front guy a break.
But shortly after taking over the lead, I heard Dat yell out to me from behind, “I’m only here for moral support.”
Surprised, I looked back to find out that I inadvertently broke away from the pack, and Dat had closed the gap to ride with me.
Not wanting to waste the effort, and Dat’s moral support, I pushed through the wind on my way up the windy Patterson Pass.
I was spinning a lower gear, practicing my high cadence riding sitting down. And with a steady concentration, Dat and I made our way up the climb with a good effort.
As we neared “Religion”, the first summit before the steep-pitched OMG climb, I realized there was another rider with us (Dat later told me that this guy is a nationally-ranked Category 1 rider).
The Cat 1 rider took the lead to break the wind for me as we pedaled down the hill, battling against the surging head wind. He stuck on the front for a quarter of the way up OMG, but the wind was pummeling him so I resumed the lead position.
I wanted to give my best effort to get to the summit in first, so I knew I had to play it conservative early on. I maintained a steady pace until the final 25 meters where I really emptied out my tank. At the top, the Cat 1 rider complimented my riding, which always feels good.
We then proceeded to the descent, Dat leading the charge. It was a strong finish to the end, and a overall a great afternoon of bicycling.
Finally, I ended the day with a steady 45-mile evening commute home.
Tuesday – Today was a milestone day—sticking with the A group the entire way on the Tuesday Carneal Loop.
I started the day with a really light 8-mile morning trainer warm-up.
Then came the victorious noon lunch ride. I owe my success to a more strategic approach to the ride, positioning myself well for the critical attack segments.
Road racing has completely different tactics to ultra-distance racing, and I am having to learn about them as I go along. I don’t mind getting dropped because solo TT’ing is what ultra-distance racing is all about. However, by sticking with the pack, I have the opportunity to ride at a higher intensity than I could on my own, which I believe will improve my performance on the bicycle.
Thank You God for these humble beginning, but thank You even more that the best is yet to come!
Wednesday – Today started out rough, having slept late and gotten only a total of 6 hours of sleep.
This morning I had one of my slowest commutes to work on record. I definitely felt fatigued, and it didn’t help that 3 miles from the finish, Stan Terusaki (USA Cycling Masters National Champion), caught me standing on a high gear. He pulled up to me and yelled, “What are you doing? Sit down and put it in a lower gear.”
Needless to say, I was not looking forward to my evening commute home.
But after watching highlight reels from the Vuelta de Espana (Tour of Spain), I got juiced.
Now I was excited to ride home with more motivation and determination to give it my best. Also, watching the latest episode from The OhioRAAM Show triggered a sense of urgency and inspiration in my mind for my RAAM training.
Riding home, I made the resolve to try out the higher cadence style of riding. So I left my cogs in one- or two-positions lower than normal, and exercised discipline to keep a high cadence sitting down.
And voila! A personal record setting commute home: 2 hours 15 minutes 23 seconds, averaging 19.9 miles per hour.
But not only did I set a PR, I also felt really good at the finish. My legs and cardio have never felt so good at the end of my commute home. I felt like I could go on forever!
Well, one thing’s for sure: Higher cadence is my new best friend.
Thursday – Today was a much needed rest day in preparation for my long and adventurous weekend in the Eastern Sierras.
Friday – Today, I made the 6 hour drive to Bishop, California in the Eastern Sierras, along with my mom and dad. It was a beautiful drive through Yosemite National Park on the 120. Except that my dad was unlucky to get a speeding ticket, though it was totally unfair—we just made a turn from a 45 mph road, and my dad was driving 40 mph, but apparently we just entered a little 15 mph stretch of road that had some endangered species of owls; how on earth would we know that!
Anyway, we were still able to enjoy the Yosemite scenery on our drive to Bishop.
And here is a picture of Tioga Pass during the daytime:
Tioga Pass is the eastern entry point of Yosemite National Park. It is a 12-mile climb that goes up to an elevation of about 9,000 feet.
Pre-Ride Pasta Dinner
Arriving into Bishop, I was surprised by how nice the town was, considering we were in the middle of nowhere—at least, that’s what it felt like to me.
But I was frightened that from Tioga Pass all the way to Bishop, it was a pretty steep downhill. I was frightened because I knew that I would have to climb back up that way after my Double Century ride on Saturday.
Well, one pedal stroke at a time, I told myself.
Shortly after settling into our motel, we made our way across the street to the event check-in, where there was a free pre-ride pasta dinner.
Upon arriving at the park — the location of the check-in — I could feel the excitement begin to bubble up inside of me as I saw all of my bicycling friends, and many other familiar faces. Ah, home sweet home.
This was my first race since my cross country bicycle ride in July so it was really nice catching up with everyone, and also sharing about my experiences bicycling across America to raise funds & awareness in the fight against human trafficking.
After a nice evening of socializing, we headed back to our motel to prepare for the next day’s race.
I was able to get to bed just before 10pm, and I had a pretty easy time falling asleep (in spite of feeling super excited for my first race in a long while).
Saturday & Sunday – My alarm sounded off at 3:50am.
I lingered in bed reading my morning devotional, while my parents hopped out of bed to prepare for the day.
My mom and dad always get out of bed before I do, which I always find amusing since I am the one doing the riding. I am truly so grateful to have such dedicated, selfless, and awesome parents!
4:15am. I hopped out of bed, brushed my teeth, and ate my delicious and nutritious breakfast—
Summer Berry oatmeal with added bananas and a blueberry bagel spread with peanut butter. Yum!
When the clock struck 4:50am, my parents and I headed out the door on our way to the starting line at La Quinta Inn, just down the street from where we were staying.
Upon arrival, we were greeted by a whole drove of excited ultra-distance bicyclists.
The Mass Start was set for 5:15am, but I don’t think we were rolling until closer to 5:30am.
Taking off, we headed south east toward White Mountain.
Riding out into the early Eastern Sierra morning, we were met with a couple cold and windy spots, but it was made bearable by hiding in the middle of the pack.
Since it was flat, the first 15 miles were really fun, social, and moderately fast-paced with all of the bicyclists forming one massive peloton — the tandems leading the charge.
I was trying to gauge who the competition was for the race, but in such a large group, it’s virtually impossible to tell on the surface. Of course, everyone feels sprightly the first few miles, and many burn their candle on both ends in the beginning, but the competitive, experienced riders always keep their cool as they warm up.
It wasn’t until we hit the beginning of the 20-miles of major climbing that the group began to fracture and separate. In the image below, the base of the climbing is the first (and largest) hump in the elevation chart at the bottom.
The base of the climb is at 4,000 feet elevation, while the summit is at 10,000 feet. That means a gain of 6,000 feet in 20 miles – brutal.
When the road kicked upward, I naturally began to make my way to the front of the pack as I continued with my own pace.
Initially, there were four of us in the “break away,” but one of the triathlon-looking guys (with his four water bottles, two on the frame and two in the seat-post), dropped off.
And for the next 10 miles, I remained in the 3-person lead group with Aaron Wise (Team POC + Ritte) and Roehl.
I had no idea how long I would last because the guys were pushing a really hard pace, and I wasn’t sure of the capabilities of the new engine under my hood. Exactly how fit was I after bicycling across America?
Well, mile after mile, Roehl and I stuck on with Aaron.
Roehl was breathing really heavily early on, and I was certain he would fall off at any moment, but he stuck it out all the way to the base of the 10-mile climb up White Mountain, as did I.
There was a rest stop at the base of the climb, so we all stopped briefly (maybe 45 seconds). I took the opportunity to top up my front water bottle, even though I only drank about one-quarter of it. I also downed 2 endurolytes, as a precautionary measure, knowing the heat and altitude would be kicking up. And before arriving at the rest stop, I was able to eat one of my banana-chocolate chip energy bars so I definitely had some fuel burning in the engine.
As we took off for the 10-mile ascent up White Mountain, I knew I would have to ride at my own pace. Major climbs are not the place to race, unless you’re a mountain goat like Aaron Wise is.
I tried, steadily, to keep pace with Aaron, but that only lasted about 3 miles. Roehl dropped off slightly before I did.
So the remainder of the climb up White Mountain became a solo TT (time trial) for all of us.
I settled into a comfortable pace just in time for the brutality of the climbing.
I had no idea what to expect, this being my first time bicycling in the area, and boy was I caught off guard by the super steep (and relentless) grades of the climb.
On the way up, I began to pass most of the riders who opted for the early start time, roughly one hour before the mass start.
I began to feel light-headed and a bit dehydrated as I neared the summit, and as Aaron Wise passed me on his way down White Mountain.
At the summit, I stopped briefly to get my sticker, this being the first of two “turnaround” areas on the ride. The sticker is a proof that you made it to the checkpoint, specifically for the highland route riders.
I managed to snap this picture just before I began the steep, fast, and at times, technical, descent down White Mountain. A truly spectacular view from 10,000 ft. elevation!
Descending down White Mountain, I passed the rest of the riders who were painstakingly making their way up the climb — clenching teeth and all.
It was a nice and much needed break, descending those 10 miles. By this time, my lower back was already very tired from all of the intense miles of climbing. Time to get into a rhythm, I told myself.
I skipped the rest stop at the bottom of the climb since I was still fully stocked and the next rest stop wasn’t too far away. I also wanted to have every advantage over the other riders as possible in order to hold second place (for as long as possible, that is).
The next 40-or-so miles before the lunch stop (at roughly mile 95) consisted of really long, mostly straight roads.
Initially, there were some really nice, fast 6%-8% descents, followed by fast rolling hills. But for the most part, it was flat with some crosswinds – but nothing to complain about.
I was averaging 20–22 mph on these segments as I spun a high cadence sitting down.
The whole time I was expecting a drove of bicyclists to just pass me by. I thought to myself, I might have had the upper hand on the climb up White Mountain, but these guys are going to be drag racing out here on the flats. But mile after mile, I remained solo in second place.
Finally, I arrived at the lunch stop, which was tucked away in an obscure off-road location. (I hate riding on gravel; one, chance of getting a flat; two, chance of falling.) My parents were the crew chiefs for the lunch stop, so it was awesome getting to see them!
When I arrived, there was a whole group of riders (about 20 in total) sitting down enjoying their meal already. These were the early starters.
As I dismounted my bicycle, I was greeted by two of my bicycling friends, Byron and Raul.
I met Raul on the first Double Century of the year, Camino Real, back in February in the Irvine area.
Byron has been a friend of ours for some time, as he rides almost every Double, and this year I rode the first half of the Mulholland Double Century with him. It was really good to see Byron at the race because he was recently involved in an accident – looks like he has been recovering well.
I took about 8 minutes for the lunch stop, downing a V8 and sprite, and eating half of a cold meat sandwich while using the bathroom (hey, gotta be efficient!).
Then, I was off on the road again. And pulling out of the lunch stop, I encountered the 3rd place rider who was just rolling in.
After the lunch stop, around 11:20 am, it remained mostly flat riding with warm temperatures that kept my mouth dry, forcing me sip on my water quite regularly.
As I was leaving the second turnaround point, the 3rd rider pulled in. And biking back along the 5 mile out-and-back stretch, I was able to see how I was doing with respect to the other riders.
Seeing that I was at least 10 minutes ahead of the other contenders, I was finally able to relax my nerves, since I had no idea where I stood in respect to the other riders the entire day up until that point.
As the finish line neared, it became more imperative in my mind to maintain my 2nd place position – after all, I had been putting in a ton of physical and mental effort the whole day; I couldn’t waste it all!
With great focus, I rode the final 70 miles in a 3-position rhythm, over and over again, probably hundreds of times:
- In a makeshift aero-position (forearms resting on the handles), I would spin a high cadence for about 30 seconds.
- Then, my triceps would tire, so I would move into the drop bars and spin a high cadence for another 30 seconds.
- Finally, I would turn a slightly higher gear at a slightly lower cadence as I stood up, in order to give my heart a rest from the high cadence riding. Also, holding on to the top of the handlebars, I was able to stretch out my lower back and legs.
Over and over again, this is the rhythm that I followed until, finally, the town of Bishop was in sight.
I sprinted my way to the finish line at La Quinta Inn, body aching and lungs heavy with fatigue from the 12 hours of tough riding, but still, with a smile on my face and joy in my heart.
While I was using the restroom at the last rest stop (35 miles out from the finish line), I saw a tandem fly past (they didn’t even stop at the rest stop!). I was definitely trying my best to close the time gap, but of course the tandem had the advantage on the flat terrain to the finish line.
Results for the day: I finished 3rd place overall, and 2nd place solo. A great accomplishment, and a first top 3 finish. Thank You God! =)
But the adventure wasn’t over, it was just beginning.
I had already planned beforehand to ride back home over Yosemite National Park for another 200 miles. But sitting at the finish line of the White Mountain Double Century, celebrating my 2nd place solo finish, I couldn’t help but try to talk myself out of having to hop back onto my bicycle.
I was really tired and felt terrible. But after an hour of rest, my body and mind were rejuvenated, so I took off without further delay, remembering the old sage advice from legendary ultra-bicyclist, Tom Parks — the longer it takes, the longer it aches.
I waved goodbye to the other bicyclists who had finished the race while I was resting. I had some great conversations with the other riders, where I was able to share about my A21 Across America campaign.
Taking off from the finish line, I began the 40 miles of slow and steady climbing up the 395, toward Tioga Pass.
I couldn’t believe how slowly the miles would turnover. Pedal-stroke after pedal-stroke, I had to remain focused, knowing that at a 6–8 mph average speed, it would take hours just to get to Tioga Pass.
It was really dark out there on the 395, in the middle of the Sierra Mountains, but fortunately, I had my parents right by my side in the support vehicle. We had some really great conversations, at 6 mph, as my mom and dad drove alongside me. Of course, we talked all about our day’s adventure with the White Mountain Double Century. But I also remember just marveling with them how insane the three of us were to be riding through the Sierras in the middle of the night.
And in no time at all, we found ourselves at the base of Tioga Pass.
I remember taking a break there at the bottom of the 12-mile climb. My dad fixed us all a cup of hot coffee, while my mom served us some delicious scones that she had bought the morning before from a bakery in the town of Bishop.
After our nice break, and time spent with each other, I hopped back onto my bicycle ready to tackle the 12-mile climb. As I began to pedal away, I turned to my mom and dad and said, “We’re really headed into the wilderness now, and I couldn’t do it without you guys!”
Climbing up Tioga pass was tough.
It was cold and massively windy, the climbing was notably steep, and sleepiness was beginning to set in. At times, I would only be going 3–5 mph. And with 12 miles to climb, I knew that it would take minimally 2 hours. So again, I was having to remain extraordinarily focused—one pedal-stroke at a time.
But finally, at mile 9 of 12, I had to relent. It was 23.5 hours into the weekend bicycling adventure, and my legs were running low on power. My pace slowed considerably, so I knew it would be smarter to stop for my 90 minute nap then, rather than try to brute-force my way up the final 3 miles of climbing. One of my favorite quotes explains it best: “Sometimes in order to go fast, you have to go slow.”
And so, I got off my bicycle, hopped into the car, set my timer for 90 minutes, and then my mom, dad, and I proceeded to snore.
My timer sounded off around 5:00am (Sunday morning). It took about 20 minutes to get up and ready to start bicycling again.
It was really cold outside, so we remained in the car while we fixed some coffee and ate some breakfast.
Finally, it was out on the road again, and the first order of business was to finish the remaining 3 miles up Tioga Pass.
The sun was just beginning to peek out as I arrived to the summit of the eastern entry point of Yosemite National Park. And how relieved I was to have finished the major climbing of the ride homeward-bound. It was also comforting to be out of the witching hours of riding through the night.
But though the major climbing was behind me, I was still only at Mile 55 of 200.
So without delay, I pressed forward through Yosemite National Park.
It was very cold bicycling in the Sierra morning at over 9,000 ft. elevation, and it was only when the sun would peek through the alpine trees that I would feel a bit of warmth.
Riding through Yosemite mostly consisted of rolling hills. And it wasn’t until I hit the western entry point of Yosemite that I had a nice descent down into the central valley.
But at mile 130, I began to feel the fatigue of close to 30 hours of bicycling—racing a double century and then climbing 100 miles through the Sierras.
My right leg felt so fatigued, I thought it would explode at any moment. But with the hope of the last major descent, I pressed on, wanting to make it to mile 200.
But false summit after false summit, the ride would just not relent.
Finally, in consideration of my parents and the time of day (it was nearing 2pm, and my initial plan was only to ride for around 24 hours), I decided to call it “Mission accomplished” at Mile 150 from Bishop, and a total of 32 hours and 350 miles for the weekend’s adventure.
What a weekend. What a ride. And just to think, this is only the beginning.
