My alarm woke me up at 4:50 am. After a quick breakfast I loaded up the car and picked up Randy. On the drive over I find out that Randy’s new to this sort of thing. He bikes to work most days, which is about 12 miles round trip, but had never ridden more than 25 or 30 miles. And hasn’t done any training for this ride. So I tell him that I don’t expect we’ll stick together the whole ride. “I’ll wait for you at the end,” I say, optimistically.

The ride starts with a ferry ride across the Puget Sound.

The back half of the ferry was all bikes

This is not a bad way to start the day

Once we got off the ferry, we rode about half a mile to a little park for a mass start. There was lots of food, so I helped myself to a second breakfast. I also made some new friends.

My new friends, Yeti 1 and Yeti 2

The organizers line us all up in the starting chute and announce the top fundraisers. The F5 Networks team got a mention for being in the top 10 of all teams! They then sing the national anthem, and we ride out.

For the next 10 miles or so, the police have closed the streets off for us. We fly out of Kingston and on to rural roads. Randy decides that the group we’re in is going too slow for him, so he pushes ahead. I’m thinking to myself that he’s crazy. We’ve got 90 miles to go. Pace yourself dude.

We ride across the Hood Canal bridge, which gives us some of the best views of the ride. But there’s these 2 foot wide metal plates that bikes are supposed to ride on, so you have to pay close attention.

Across the Hood Canal Bridge

Don and I get to the first rest stop and catch up with Randy. He’s sitting on a hay bale, waiting for us like he’s done this before. The food at this stop is great. I get a bagel with cream cheese and lox and enjoy my third breakfast. We roll on through some beautiful country roads towards Port Townsend.

It's easy to keep pedaling when you're treated to views like this

We ride through the little downtown area of Port Townsend and to the next rest stop at Fort Worden. It’s this great little park on the beach with a light house. We end up spending a little too much time here, enjoying the sun and the views.

The beach at Fort Worden

Team F5 on the beach

Sometime after this stop is when things started to hurt. Randy pushed ahead and dropped us again. Don was lagging behind so I rode ahead of him. At about mile 70 I found myself completely alone on the course. This is when the major hills started. There were two big ones right in a row. The second one was relentless. It looked like I was almost to the top, then I’d turn a corner and realize I had a long way to go.

After the second hill, I caught up to a big guy that was keeping a pretty good pace. There was a strong headwind, so I tucked into his slipstream and started drafting behind him. That didn’t last long. I heard a “pow!” He had a blowout on his front tire.

He didn’t have a pump on him, so I stopped with him and let him borrow my mini pump. In a few minutes Don came by and stopped with us. We had him rolling pretty quickly. I guess I finally paid it forward for the help I got from the Aussie in a chicken suit on last year’s Livestrong Challenge.

The roadside repair team

Right after this was the steepest hill of the day. It was really short, but it was a freakin wall. We churned up it, zig-zagging back and forth.

Don and Flat Tire Guy pushing up the wall

We get to the next rest stop and catch up with Randy again. He’s been waiting for a while and is ready to go. So he says he’ll wait for us at the finish and heads on. Don a I grab a bite and push on. We go back over the hood canal bridge and into the home stretch.

The map says that the ride is just over 102 miles. So at about 96 miles, I start pushing it hard. I’m almost there, so let’s use up everything I’ve got left. Pretty soon my computer says I’ve gone 102 miles, and the end is nowhere in sight. I’m running out of steam here. I keep pushing. 103. 104. 105. Still no finish. Finally at 107, with nothing left in the tank, I finally see the finish banners. It’s the sweetest sight. There’s a few people cheering and clanging cowbells as I ride under the finish line.

Don riding through the finish chute

Randy’s sitting in the grass, waiting patiently for us. I kick off my shoes, change clothes, and head for the food tent. Tacos! I grab a couple and collapse in the grass.

The best taco ever.

Once I’m able to muster up the strength to stand up, we hop back on the bikes and ride the quarter mile or so back to the ferry dock. Its a beautiful and well-deserved cruise home.

The perfect end to the day

Final stats

• Distance: 107.9 mi
• Riding time: 7:06
• Avg speed: 15.2 mph
• Max speed: 42.9 mph

The Livestrong Appreciation Dinner

As part of the fundraising process, I joined Team Fatty – a team headed up by a guy who calls himself The Fat Cyclist. I guess he used to be fat, but now that he bikes all the time, the name “fatty” doesn’t make much sense. Anyway, Team Fatty won the team fundraising challenge, so they got a bunch of seats to the Livestrong Appreciation dinner Saturday night. I kindly offered to take one of those seats.

Dinner in the EMP "Sky Church"

Congressmen Jay Insley telling us how the new healthcare reforms will help cancer survivors

Actor Evan Handler talking about his battle with Leukemia 20 years ago

The card Nike sent to Lance Armstrong when he was diagnosed with cancer

I got home around 9, got my stuff ready for the ride, set the alarm for 5am, and tried to get to bed early.

The Ride

Alarm goes off at 5am. It’s Sunday. Why the hell would my alarm be going off so freakin early? Oh, right….

I make a big bowl of oatmeal (more carbs!) and check the weather. I had planned on short sleeves, but now I see it’s not even going to crack over 60 degrees. And there’s a significant chance of rain. New plan – long sleeves. So I quickly get my race number and signs moved to my other jersey, fill up the watter bottles, and roll out from my house at 6:15. Rolling down to the start it was in the low 50s and cloudy, so already I felt good about my decision.

My original plan before the last minute switch to long sleeves

It’s a 6 mile, mostly downhill ride from my house to the Seattle Center. I find my way to the start line and get in the 100 mile starting group with 15 minutes until the 7am group start.

Lined up at the start

Self portrait - "Before the pain"

I’ve never done a bike event where everyone starts at once. It was a great atmosphere. It was very moving to see everyone with pins showing who they’re riding for.  The guy in front of me had one that just said “Mom” and others that were filled with lots of names in tiny print. They had some announcements to get everyone pumped up, sang the national anthem, and counted down to the start. And we were off.

The first 20 miles or so was fantastic. The roads through downtown were closed off, so we had a car and red-light free trip. Then they led us onto the I-90 express lanes over the floating bridge. The roads were all for us!

Rolling through downtown

Through the I-90 tunnel

Across the floating bridge

Then on to Mercer Island. This is a great little loop that I do all the time. Lots of rolling hills, tight turns, and lush trees. I caught the back of a pace line doing about 24mph and held on as long as I could.

At the rest stop I realized that the cleat in my shoe (the thing that clips in to the pedals) was loose. I’ve seen people get stuck in their pedals this way, so I was lucky to catch it early and get it tightened up. I crossed over to the east side and started working my way through farm country.

About 30 miles in, a guy in a Cadillac jersey looks down at the fenders on my bike and says “hey, I hope we don’t need those fenders today!”  Not five minutes later it starts sprinkling. I pull over and put my jacket on. Within 10 minutes we’ve got full-on rain. The rain is relentless the rest of the day. This is also when I stop trying to take pictures as I’m riding. I blame all of this on Cadillac Jersey Guy.

Ok, so I’m cold and wet, but my legs are feeling good. Which is fortunate, since there’s some major climbs ahead. First is Tiger Mountain. Despite the fact that this is about 500 feet of climbing, it’s a really nice stretch. Heavily wooded, no cars, winding roads. And then the descent is a blast.

Then there’s another shorter climb up through Issaquah. But this one seems much worse. It’s a straight, wide road with nothing but suburbs to look at. The route flattens out after this and it’s a smooth 20 mile loop around Lake Sammamish.

At dinner the night before, everyone told me to look out for Montreux. It’s this killer hill, they say, somewhere around mile 70. I turn off the Lake Sammamish loop, and there’s this big sign for the neighborhood. One last warning sign. All it says is Montreux.

They were not kidding.  It’s 900 feet of climbing through suburban hell. As I’m slowly working my way up, several have given up and are walking their bikes. I will NOT let this hill beat me.  I will NOT walk my bike. So I push through the pain. I get to what looks like the summit, only to turn the corner and continue the climb. And then finally, I crest over the top and speed back down the other side.

At the next rest stop, the pain is starting to set in. My feet hurt, my hands are numb, my back hurts. But I’ve still got about 30 miles to go. I get behind two guys from Detroit in full Team Radioshack kit and we pull together towards Renton and around the bottom of Lake Washington. They are keeping a good pace at around 17mph, so I hold on with them and try to ignore the pain. We get around Lake Washington, past Seward Park, and up a short winding climb back towards downtown.

I pulled over at the last rest stop to get one more PB&J sandwich. There’s a band playing – why not be festive when you’ve only got 5 miles to go?

I’m riding through the area south of downtown, on my own at this point. My tire gets stuck in a groove in the pavement and it almost takes me down. But somehow I manage to stay upright and get out of the groove. That’s when I hear “PSSSSHHHHH!” Crap. Flat tire. I just bought new puncture resistant tires a few weeks ago. What could have caused this?

So I pull over and find a one inch screw embedded in my tire. Ok, I guess no amount of puncture resistance can help with that. I get out my tools, take the wheel off and start working. I’m in considerable pain. It’s cold. I’m so close to the finish. And my hands are numb. Needless to say, I’m not happy.

Just as I’m getting the tire off, a guy riding his bike on a chicken suit pulls over. “Need some help, mate?”  Ok, one better – a guy in a chicken suit with an English accent. He’s got all sorts of tools, and manages to get my tire changed in about 60 seconds. I can’t thank him enough.

I get back on the bike and push through downtown. Somewhere near the Seattle Center I realized I missed a turn. I don’t see any course markers anymore. But I know how to get back, so I just wind through downtown and get over to the start. Somehow I ended up on the wrong side of the finish line. A lady stops me and says “Hey! You’ve got to go around and go through the right way.” Fine, at this point I’m too run down to argue. So I squeeze through the barriers and get on the correct end.

“Here comes another rider!” shouts the announcer.  People start cheering and clanging cowbells as I ride through the finish line. Ok, that was cool. I’m glad I went through the right way eventually. Some lady hands me a rose.  Someone else hands me a towel.

I see my chicken-suited angel again. I give him another enthusiastic thank you. My friend Annie is working the massage tent. She wants to give me a celebratory massage, but I’ve still got another 6 miles to get home. If I lay down now, there’s no way I get back up.

Gotta keep moving. Remember at 6am when I was glad to have a nice downhill ride to the start? Yeah, that means it’s a long, slow 6 miles back. I finally make it back to the house at about 3:30 pm, pull my soggy bike gear off and take the greatest hot shower of my life.

This was without a doubt the hardest day I’ve ever had on my bike. Everything hurts. Everything is wet. I was covered in road grime. And I can’t wait for next year!

Here’s my final stats, including the ride to and from my house:
Total distance: 116.15 mi
Total ride time: 7:30:58
Avg. speed: 15.48 mph
Max. speed: 37.04 mph

But the few times that I do, I get frustrated quickly.  Ask my wife.  After two amazing weeks in Costa Rica, at the airport there was a line snaking out the door to check in for our flight home.  For the first time in two weeks I was stressed.  Isn’t there a way to check in online?  Nope.  Can I somehow use my BlackBerry to jump the line?  Nope.  I just have to wait like everyone else…

The worst is when you call a customer service line (for me it’s usually an airline) and they tell you that it will be 20 minutes until you can talk to a human.

Here’s an idea.  Instead of making me sit on the phone listening to bad hold music – and burning my cell minutes – why can’t they call me back when they’re ready?  “You can either stay on hold, or press # and we’ll call you back.”

The tech to do this is pretty simple, it just takes someone to look at it from the customer’s eyes (or ears).

I was at a party on Sunday.  One of the girls asked “What’s GoDadday?”  Before I could answer, another girl chimed in:

Oh, it’s one of those sites where you pay to watch girls undress on camera.

Ha.  I guess if all you knew of the company was the last few years of Super Bowl ads, that seems like a pretty logical conclusion.

The offending ad:

The goal is to create a product that people love. If people love it, they’ll forgive a lot. They’ll talk about it. They’ll promote it. They’ll come back. They’ll be less price sensitive. They’ll bring their friends. They’ll work with you to make it better.

If you can’t do that, though, perhaps you can make your service or product less annoying.

He makes a great point here.  There’s a small number of products that can really create that religious moment.  You need to be able to honestly take a look at your product and ask “Is this something people will truly love?”   Or is it just something that’s better than the alternative?  Your go to market strategy should vary wildly depending on the answer to that question.

This theory makes sense when you’re looking at the product from a macro level, at the whole market.  But there’s a different type of adoption curve when you look at a micro level – at one user.   At this level products that are truly revolutionary have what I call the ‘Religious Adoption Curve’.  Either you get it or you don’t, and once you’ve seen the light, there’s no turning back.  Let me explain using TiVo as an example.

When I first heard about TiVo years ago, it sounded interesting, but I didn’t really see the value.  Look at the core features:

• Record any show – So?  My VCR does that.
• Pause live TV – Sure, that might come in handy, but I can usually wait for the commercial to go to the bathroom
• Suggests new shows for you – That’s just creepy.  Besides, I watch enough TV

But one day a friend gave me a TiVo he though was broken.  He figured I could get a few bucks for it on eBay.  Curious, I hooked it up to my TV.  Not only did it work, it had a lifetime membership.  So I dug in and started playing.  And then I saw the light.

It wasn’t just a way to record shows.  It was a totally new way to experience television.  Each feature on its own may not sound like much, but the way they all came together in a beautifully simple product was a symphony.  I was a convert, and never went back to regular TV.

So what I’m trying to figure out is if you’re working at TiVo during this early stage, how do you get more people to become believers?  For me, it took actually installing one.  Obviously you can’t just give them away.  But the way to get people to have that religious awakening is to get it into their hands.  How do you tell people (without sounding crazy) that this product fundamentally changes everything you know about TV?

The product I work with is much the same way.  Once you really get it, you’re a customer for life.  So the struggle is getting more people to get their hands in there and really understand the technology.  Spread the gospel and hope they see the light.

When a cross-over gets 24 MPG and has room for seven, suddenly, everything looks a litte different

Two problems:

1) 24 MPG isn’t that good.

2) How does this car, that as  far as I can tell has no unique features (and is ugly as sin), change the world?  Do the guys at Ford really have an answer to that?  Or are they just saying stuff because it sounds dramatic?  

Surely there was something they could say about this SUV other than “it gets mediocre gas milage and has seven seats”.  And if that’s really all there is to say, why the heck did they spend millions of dollars to design and build these things.

Video is here in case you like watching train wrecks.

In most major cities, there are multiple routes to get you from downtown to the suburbs and back.   During rush hour I’d like to know which way would be fastest based on real time traffic.  You could check online before you left and see if there is a major issue.  And now some GPS units will report that same information.  That doesn’t give me the fastest route, it only helps me avoid the slowest one.

What I really want is down to the second stats.  Tell me exactly how fast are cars moving on all possible routes, and given that data, automatically put me on the quickest path home readjusting as I go.  You can use my location and speed to refine the data.  As more people buy the units, the better the data is.

Imagine a city where every car has access to this data.  Each car would be routed for the best path possible in real time meaning the roads are always handling the traffic as efficiently as possible.  It’s like a massive distributed load balancer for the city.

A quick Googling shows that there are a few solutions out there now.  One that looks promising on paper is Dash Express.  Why hasn’t this caught on more?  Americans waste so much time stuck in traffic every day, and people are buying up GPS navigation devices left and right.  I would think that this would be a hot product.  And yet Dash is struggling.  From TechCrunch in November:

Dash Navigation is getting out of the hardware business and cutting 55 jobs, or 65% of its workers.

There’s a clear need for this.  The cost of traffic to business and consumers is high and rising.  And yet Dash struggles.  Was the problem the hardware cost?  It is pretty expensive ($300 + 11$/month).   It also sounds like there were some usability issues.  And the fact that I’ve never heard of these guys until now is telling as well.

This is good proof that meeting a need in the market isn’t an automatic road to success.  Product design is critical.  Where was Product Management on the usability issues?  Getting the word out is critical too.  Where was Product Marketing?  This has the potential to save you several hours every month.  Tell that story.  Get these deployed in rental cars where people can see how great they are.

This is not Field of Dreams.  You have to do more than just build something.