PBP Slowly

Everything you ever wanted to know about going slowly during PBP by Sharon

According to Martin, if you complete the 400K, you can complete PBP. That is true, but it is only part of the story. I am one of those slower riders. I am the average athlete who has big ambitions, high goals, and a healthy fantasy life. I completed my 400K brevets in 21 to 24 hours. I finished PBP in 1995 on a solo bike in 88 hours. I finished PBP in 1999 in 87 hours, but that was on a tandem so it doesn’t count for the purposes of this little blurb.

In 1995, I set the goal of making it to Loudeac in 24 hours. I did that without any trouble. It was hot that day, but I stayed hydrated and ate well. I was excited. And I rode well. I had arranged for a motel room in Loudeac. After a shower, about 6 hours’ rest, and a fresh pair of shorts, I was on the road again. I expected to make it to Brest and back to Loudeac by dark. It actually was closer to midnight. I realized then that I was behind my personal goals, and it was because of spending too much time at the controlles. I wasn’t riding well at night. That was partially the beginnings of sleep deprivation and partially the fact that I couldn’t see the road very well. It took me a little while to figure out that I couldn’t tell where the sides of the roads were. There were no white lines at the edges of the roads. My best speed was about 10 miles per hour during the nights. The woman that I was riding with began referring to “the night monster.” Fatigue, slow pace, queezy stomachs, and a little chill made the night seem to go on forever.

On Thursday morning, we left Loudeac just before dawn. We had 400K to go and nearly 36 hours to do it in. It was at this point that I realized that PBP is not a physical endurance event. It is a mental endurance event. I told myself I didn’t travel all the way to France to fail. Unfortunately, we weren’t riding very fast and finishing within the 90-hour time limit was in jeopardy. My riding partner and I talked while we were riding about what was slowing us down. Too much time at controlles and slow riding at night were our biggest problems.

We spent less than 30 minutes each at Tintineac and Fougeres. We did stop for a sit-down meal around suppertime. We were both craving green salads and justified it by saying it would help us ride through the night. That stop took about an hour. It was fun when some young boys asked for our autographs. The town and its hanging gardens were beautiful. In retrospect, however, it was too much. When night fell that evening, we were already experiencing some mild hallucinations, and we were already riding slowly. A few hours later, my partner got too tired to ride so we stopped by the side of the road. The stop made me cold. She didn’t get any rest, and I got stiff. It would have been better to press on rather than stop.

We stopped in a bar during the night that had reserved the floor in its back room for PBP riders who wanted a little sleep. I slept for about 45 minutes. I don’t think Linda slept. I think she did the math. She woke me up in a bit of a panic saying we might miss the next controlle. And she was right. We had to average 16 miles per hour for two hours to make Mortagne au Perche. It was still dark. Sixteen miles per hour might as well be the speed of light. It was impossible. But I didn’t go to France to fail.

I grabbed a cup of coffee, and we kicked it into high gear. It was very difficult riding. We talked to each other loudly the whole way. We kept track of mileage and time, and we made it with a few minutes to spare. Having made that controlle, and with daylight approaching, we knew that Villaines la Juhel would be no problem. We got back to our 20-minutes-or-less-per-controlle schedule and continued on to Villaines and Nogent le Roi.

There was a nice tail wind as we approached Nogent. I remember singing out loud. I was riding fairly well at that point. Of course, doing the last 50 miles of PBP at anything over 12 miles per hour is riding well. I was hungry, and I noticed that my stomach area was sunken in. We did have another sit down meal, but we did it at the control. The advantage was the presence of other riders who also knew they were facing the 90-hour time limit. We ate, went to the bathroom, filled bottles, and headed in. No more stops were allowed. And we knew exactly what speed we had to average in order to make it.

We made it in 88 hours. I received my rose from the officials, as did all the women who finished. Martin was there to guide me to the actual controlle so I could turn in my card. I felt like I’d been hit by a train, but I had never felt better in my life. I had finished Paris-Brest-Paris with time to spare!!

Here are my recommendations:

1. Discipline yourself to 20 minutes or less per control. Martin says 10 minutes; I say 20 minutes. I’m a female, it takes longer to go to the bathroom. Set a timer if you have to.

2. Eat and drink well, even if your stomach says no. If you throw up, drink and eat again. Ideally, you should know by now what foods and drinks will stay down. If not, keep training and get that all sorted about before you go to France.

3. Carry a toothbrush in your bike bag. Brushing your teeth can provide a great pick-me-up, especially if you’ve lost your lunch or inhaled too many bugs. I also carried baby wipes to clean up the other end.

4. Practice riding at night, and get good lights.

5. Find a riding partner at least for the nighttime. It doesn’t have to be someone you’ve met before. I couldn’t have done it by myself. You’ll have low spots at different times and can help each other through them.

6. Plan on 10 miles per hour for the last 100 miles of PBP. Make sure the first 650 are fast enough to allow for that. Even Martin goes that slowly near the end.

7. Be tough! You didn’t go all the way to France to fail. If your toes are numb, you have saddle sores, your stomach is in knots, or you’re facing a minor injury, go for it anyway. You have lots of time to recover. There is a limit, and you are the only person who knows your limits. However, this is the time to exceed them by at least a little.

- Sharon Kaufman