So I've been without my PowerTap for almost two months now, amazing how fast the summer has gone by. I sent it back a week and a half ago, it was delivered this past Monday and I got it back from Saris yesterday. Not sure what they did to fix the problem as I never knew if it was the hub, the computer or the wiring harness. They probably swapped the internals of the hub but on top of that, they replaced the cassette body and bearings, new plastic hub cover, all new head unit and wiring harness and even sent me another chest strap along with more zip ties than I could ever find things to mount on the bike with. Now that's service. I'm really surprised and delighted to have had such an experience from a company in the bike industry. It just seems like service has really gone down hill over the past few years. Maybe I'm just a bit jaded after my string of bad luck with the Surly stuff and my all too ridiculous experience with my Gary Fisher frame and one Light Street Bicycles in Baltimore.
So over the past month I've been on the Ned Overend "listen to your body" approach to my training plan since every other cycling computer I own has taken a dump as well, it seems like I have to send my Polar HR monitor back every six months just to get the damn battery changed. It's been ok so far, after three hard weeks my legs are cooked. It will be interesting to get the power numbers and see if I gained or lost fitness. Not that it matters much, I pretty much still can't push the hard efforts with my left leg. The fall on my hip way back at 'cross nats must have been worse than I thought. Off to see Dr. Collins again.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Thursday, July 26, 2007
The Chicken Doper
This photo of Michael Rasmussen with his Italian doctors is about to be leaked to l'Equippe and Velonews but you saw it here first...
Ok, I just had to do it, this is what too much free time on your hands gets you...
Ok, I just had to do it, this is what too much free time on your hands gets you...
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
The Reality of My (Future) Surroundings
So I was out at my parents a couple weekends ago and my mom was nice enough to give me a gift. At first I was somewhat confused, but then as I held it up in front of me, I actually became somewhat nauseous and disoriented by the thoughts running through my head. Come December I will be getting alot more familiar with something squirming around inside of it.
Gina had a sonogram appointment today so we were down a the hospital bright and early. It's somewhat unnerving having to go to all of these Dr.'s appointments, you're always worried you're going to find out something's wrong. Everything was fine though, although the spud was a bit uncooperative in posing for some of the pictures they needed. At the beginning the tech asked if we wanted to know the sex of the baby as they should be able to tell by now. We said no and she said she wanted to make as to not accidentally spoil it by saying something but I admit I was looking pretty hard to see if I could tell. I'm not positive, but I think it may be a girl, at least that's my prediction.
After the appointment we had lunch in Fell's Point at Cooper's Tavern. I haven't been there since I was single. As we were eating, Gina pointed out this SUV with vanity plates. There are somethings in this world I just don't understand and one of those is vanity plates that have no meaning to anyone except the driver. Really, what's the point? This one kind of stumped me though. So what, is this person dedicating their suburban yuppie symbol of excess, waste and environmental destruction to God? Or are they just thanking him for making it possible for them to afford such nonsense?
Gina had a sonogram appointment today so we were down a the hospital bright and early. It's somewhat unnerving having to go to all of these Dr.'s appointments, you're always worried you're going to find out something's wrong. Everything was fine though, although the spud was a bit uncooperative in posing for some of the pictures they needed. At the beginning the tech asked if we wanted to know the sex of the baby as they should be able to tell by now. We said no and she said she wanted to make as to not accidentally spoil it by saying something but I admit I was looking pretty hard to see if I could tell. I'm not positive, but I think it may be a girl, at least that's my prediction.After the appointment we had lunch in Fell's Point at Cooper's Tavern. I haven't been there since I was single. As we were eating, Gina pointed out this SUV with vanity plates. There are somethings in this world I just don't understand and one of those is vanity plates that have no meaning to anyone except the driver. Really, what's the point? This one kind of stumped me though. So what, is this person dedicating their suburban yuppie symbol of excess, waste and environmental destruction to God? Or are they just thanking him for making it possible for them to afford such nonsense?
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
The Ride Diaries
I've been riding a lot lately, getting ready for what I'm not really sure yet. The season is starting to wind down although 'cross is right around the corner. It's going to be hard getting myself to train hard and prepare for 'cross knowing there is no chance in hell I'm going to Nationals.
Lately I've been hitting some of the local group rides, more for motivation than anything. Sometimes riding by yourself is good, other times it's not. Last week I hit the Tuesday Princeton ride leaving from Columbia. I rode over figuring to meet up with the group as they crossed over Rt. 108 onto Homewood Rd. I ran into my friend Trey and we cruised towards the shop to meet the ride where some Indian woman decided she thought she had the right of way coming across the road making a left hand turn and I was in her way. Fortunately for her she didn't hit me.
The Princeton ride is what I would call a "Fred" ride, lot's of hairy legged guys wearing Pro Tour team regalia or bright mono-colored jerseys riding deep dish wheels and clip on aero bars. The loop is loosely based on the Columbia Triathlon course and is fairly rolling and hilly. On the first climb guys were scampering like cockroaches when the lights go on for the wheel in front of them trying not to get popped 10 minutes into the ride. I wasn't feeling all that great as I recently started up my strength training regimen on Mondays and my legs were a bit tired and sore from lifting the day before. On the second climb Trey went off the front and had a small gap so I decided to stretch the legs and make a hard acceleration to close the gap without dragging anyone with me. This was my undoing. I caught Trey but went totally anaerobic in the process. We crested the climb and descended only to start the third climb, a long gradual stretch about a mile long that kicks up at the end. Mike was on the front setting a strong tempo and before the little kicker, I got popped. I figured the group would wait at the circle at the top but they kept rolling, TT time. I ended up finished with the "B" group. Somewhat embarrassing.
This week was a bit different, the group was a bit smaller as the rain may have scared some people away. When I rolled into the Princeton parking lot, the first thing I noticed out of a group of 60 or so cyclists was some kid in a full LiquiGas kit. I know it's somewhat arrogant and elitist to say this and falls under the "typical roadie mentality", but we all do it, on the road or on the dirt. It's a form of self motivation really. I told myself he was the sacrificial lamb, I would give all it took to make sure he didn't make the selection. As we started the ride we were somewhat disorganized as people trickled out on their own unsure of the rain but as we crossed over to Homewood Rd., about 12 riders formed what would be the main group. Of course, at the front was LiquiGuy trying to set the tempo up the first climb. I sat back gauging the rest of the group and could tell the pace wasn't as hot right from the start as the week before. As we rolled down the backside there were about 4 guys on the front when I realized they were all riding the brakes, too scared to descend in the rain and not realizing grabbing handfuls of brake on a wet decent was a sure fire way to cause a wreck. I decided pulling them was better than having one take me down so I rode to the front and started to pull us towards the second climb. It was there I decided this was where LiquiGuy would get dropped after hearing one Fred say he didn't think the pace was that hard and that he's usually struggling to stay on by this point. I set a hard tempo up the false flat and the steeper first half of the climb and when I moved off to let the group pull through, no one came by me. I looked back to see the closet guy 10m off my wheel. The group finally caught up, minus LiquiGuy and we were off to climb #3. As we topped the third climb, we were down to six. Again on the descents through the reservoir no one would get off the brakes so I hammered it on the series of rollers until we were down to 3. Of the 12 or so that started it was just myself and one other guy at the end. Ahh, sweet redemption.
The Wednesday Race pace ride is another one I've hit up recently. It heads out through Marriottsville and has a few nice climbs on the route. There are only two regulars, Mike and Dan. The first time I rode it I realized these guys only like to attack the hills so the past two weeks I rode my fixie, to their surprise and somewhat dismay of being able to keep up and set the pace at times. I'm probably bailing on the ride tomorrow as my legs are super sore from lifting. I'll probably pay for it since riding the fixie and spinning out on some of the long descents usually helps loosen them up and get the soreness out.
Saturday was a long hard ride out in Myersville with Bryan. Hard climbs, empty roads and good company. Sunday Nystrom and I hit Avalon where I proceeded to break my chain climbing up the waterbar trail. You can read about that debacle of that here.
Lately I've been hitting some of the local group rides, more for motivation than anything. Sometimes riding by yourself is good, other times it's not. Last week I hit the Tuesday Princeton ride leaving from Columbia. I rode over figuring to meet up with the group as they crossed over Rt. 108 onto Homewood Rd. I ran into my friend Trey and we cruised towards the shop to meet the ride where some Indian woman decided she thought she had the right of way coming across the road making a left hand turn and I was in her way. Fortunately for her she didn't hit me.
The Princeton ride is what I would call a "Fred" ride, lot's of hairy legged guys wearing Pro Tour team regalia or bright mono-colored jerseys riding deep dish wheels and clip on aero bars. The loop is loosely based on the Columbia Triathlon course and is fairly rolling and hilly. On the first climb guys were scampering like cockroaches when the lights go on for the wheel in front of them trying not to get popped 10 minutes into the ride. I wasn't feeling all that great as I recently started up my strength training regimen on Mondays and my legs were a bit tired and sore from lifting the day before. On the second climb Trey went off the front and had a small gap so I decided to stretch the legs and make a hard acceleration to close the gap without dragging anyone with me. This was my undoing. I caught Trey but went totally anaerobic in the process. We crested the climb and descended only to start the third climb, a long gradual stretch about a mile long that kicks up at the end. Mike was on the front setting a strong tempo and before the little kicker, I got popped. I figured the group would wait at the circle at the top but they kept rolling, TT time. I ended up finished with the "B" group. Somewhat embarrassing.
This week was a bit different, the group was a bit smaller as the rain may have scared some people away. When I rolled into the Princeton parking lot, the first thing I noticed out of a group of 60 or so cyclists was some kid in a full LiquiGas kit. I know it's somewhat arrogant and elitist to say this and falls under the "typical roadie mentality", but we all do it, on the road or on the dirt. It's a form of self motivation really. I told myself he was the sacrificial lamb, I would give all it took to make sure he didn't make the selection. As we started the ride we were somewhat disorganized as people trickled out on their own unsure of the rain but as we crossed over to Homewood Rd., about 12 riders formed what would be the main group. Of course, at the front was LiquiGuy trying to set the tempo up the first climb. I sat back gauging the rest of the group and could tell the pace wasn't as hot right from the start as the week before. As we rolled down the backside there were about 4 guys on the front when I realized they were all riding the brakes, too scared to descend in the rain and not realizing grabbing handfuls of brake on a wet decent was a sure fire way to cause a wreck. I decided pulling them was better than having one take me down so I rode to the front and started to pull us towards the second climb. It was there I decided this was where LiquiGuy would get dropped after hearing one Fred say he didn't think the pace was that hard and that he's usually struggling to stay on by this point. I set a hard tempo up the false flat and the steeper first half of the climb and when I moved off to let the group pull through, no one came by me. I looked back to see the closet guy 10m off my wheel. The group finally caught up, minus LiquiGuy and we were off to climb #3. As we topped the third climb, we were down to six. Again on the descents through the reservoir no one would get off the brakes so I hammered it on the series of rollers until we were down to 3. Of the 12 or so that started it was just myself and one other guy at the end. Ahh, sweet redemption.
The Wednesday Race pace ride is another one I've hit up recently. It heads out through Marriottsville and has a few nice climbs on the route. There are only two regulars, Mike and Dan. The first time I rode it I realized these guys only like to attack the hills so the past two weeks I rode my fixie, to their surprise and somewhat dismay of being able to keep up and set the pace at times. I'm probably bailing on the ride tomorrow as my legs are super sore from lifting. I'll probably pay for it since riding the fixie and spinning out on some of the long descents usually helps loosen them up and get the soreness out.
Saturday was a long hard ride out in Myersville with Bryan. Hard climbs, empty roads and good company. Sunday Nystrom and I hit Avalon where I proceeded to break my chain climbing up the waterbar trail. You can read about that debacle of that here.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Brain Surgery
Apparently our Commander in Chief requires brain surgery, think Cheney will perform the operation? For our sake, let's hope nothing goes wrong. It could get worse.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/19872260/
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/19872260/
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
TdF - Arm Chair Director Sportif
Ok, after last year's Tour I vowed to not watch this year and could care less about the French, but I have to admit it's been a pretty exciting race so far. Think the French aren't biased though? Did anyone not notice the amount of drafting Vino was doing off the team car to try and get back in the peleton on Stage 5, all worthy of a full disqualification from the race but amazingly it went unnoticed by the Commissaires, yet Levi takes one pull from the car after a mechanical on a decent and gets a time penalty? Fucking French.
Based on the way the race has gone I think a couple of teams need to change their strategies for hopes of salvaging a victory or at least a podium finish.
Discovery Channel - DUMP Levi. He has suffered like a dog the entire race and no one who truly intends on winning le Tour would go on record as saying they're not on their best but can still "ride themselves into form" before the end. Hate to tell you Levi, but the Pyrennes are harder than the Alps and you're no Lance so trying to play the peleton like Lance did just isn't going to work for you. Alberto Contador has proven himself since the start of the season as a rider to be reckoned with in the pro peleton and is further placing his stamp on that by riding all over the main contenders in the Alps. If they stick with Levi, I think Disco is missing at a minimum a podium opportunity in Contador. If he can gain enough time in the Pyrennes, he can afford to lose some time to Kloden and Cadel Evans in the TTs and possibly win the Tour.
Astana - Vino needs to man up and hand over the reins to Kloden or the Astana DS needs to do it for him. Yeah, it really blows he crashed but so did Kloden and most of the Astana team. He's now over 8 minutes down and not looking good on the climbs. Kloden is still in contention even after having to sacrifice his overall position so far to help Vino.
Unless these two teams make some changes, I think we'll be seeing Cadel Evans in yellow in Paris. Which is fine with me, I've followed Evans since he was racing mountain bikes and always thought he was a very talented rider. It's taken him a while but he's finally found the form and confidence it takes on the road to win a Grand Tour, good for him.
Based on the way the race has gone I think a couple of teams need to change their strategies for hopes of salvaging a victory or at least a podium finish.
Discovery Channel - DUMP Levi. He has suffered like a dog the entire race and no one who truly intends on winning le Tour would go on record as saying they're not on their best but can still "ride themselves into form" before the end. Hate to tell you Levi, but the Pyrennes are harder than the Alps and you're no Lance so trying to play the peleton like Lance did just isn't going to work for you. Alberto Contador has proven himself since the start of the season as a rider to be reckoned with in the pro peleton and is further placing his stamp on that by riding all over the main contenders in the Alps. If they stick with Levi, I think Disco is missing at a minimum a podium opportunity in Contador. If he can gain enough time in the Pyrennes, he can afford to lose some time to Kloden and Cadel Evans in the TTs and possibly win the Tour.
Astana - Vino needs to man up and hand over the reins to Kloden or the Astana DS needs to do it for him. Yeah, it really blows he crashed but so did Kloden and most of the Astana team. He's now over 8 minutes down and not looking good on the climbs. Kloden is still in contention even after having to sacrifice his overall position so far to help Vino.
Unless these two teams make some changes, I think we'll be seeing Cadel Evans in yellow in Paris. Which is fine with me, I've followed Evans since he was racing mountain bikes and always thought he was a very talented rider. It's taken him a while but he's finally found the form and confidence it takes on the road to win a Grand Tour, good for him.
Friday, July 13, 2007
Friday the 13th - Into the Firey Abyss
Six years ago today I was just a single guy living alone and riding my bike without a care in the world. As was typical for the day, T-Star, triathlete, adventure racer and socialite extraordinare sends out the call for the start of the weekend happy hour. The usual round of suspects are on the list, all of the local cyclists and triathletes from around the Baltimore area are descending upon Bohager's for an evening of libations. My buddy Chad and I were the typical single guys working the scene trying to pick up girls. As the night wore on and our group slowing dwindled to only the hardcore partiers (those who would actually stay out past 9 as to not ruin their 5am swim, bike or run workout) I decided to go talk to a couple of girls who seem to have been there with our little group but weren't really part of the whole tri-geek scene. They were sitting at the bar looking very disinterested, especially at the guy currently trying to talk them up. I don't even remember what I went in with for a line, but soon after Chad and I were on the dance floor with them. The one I was dancing with was a blonde, the other a brunette. At some point Chad and switched off, I'm not a much for blondes and he's not much for brunettes.
The night continued on, the drinks were flowing freely from their roommate who they were there with and happened to be seeing a friend of mine. We were on the dance floor having a good time, laughing at the white trash that frequents the meat market so aply nicknamed Hobagger's, when she randomly decides to lightly kick one of three of Dundalk's finest in the ass. He was one of three guys walking around the bar in a grey t-shirt acting all tough and probably looking for a fight at the end of the night to suppress his sexual frustration. Next thing I know I have these same three guys in my face asking this girl why she kicked him. Apparently one of their friends stealthily cloaked in a flannel shirt had seen the incident and reported back to them an opportunity to release their frustrations. All I remember is looking around the place and not seeing anyone capable of backing me up should things get ugly. After a few tense minutes the guy and his friends (later dubbed the "Grey T-shirt Mafia") finally accepted the girl's story that she didn't know what he was talking about and that his friend must be mistaken. At that point I should have known it was time to leave but hey, things were going pretty good up to that point so why not try and close the deal?
We ended up closing down the bar and as I tried to get this girl to come home with me, her friends were there to "save" her. Chad was doing his best with the blonde but the red head wasn't letting it happen. The night ended with a string of phone numbers and email scrolled up and down my arms.
Now as I look back 6 years, I can only wonder where I would be if I'd never called those numbers on my arm a few days later and went out a week later with Gina on our first date. Probably still trying to pick up girls in bars.
The night continued on, the drinks were flowing freely from their roommate who they were there with and happened to be seeing a friend of mine. We were on the dance floor having a good time, laughing at the white trash that frequents the meat market so aply nicknamed Hobagger's, when she randomly decides to lightly kick one of three of Dundalk's finest in the ass. He was one of three guys walking around the bar in a grey t-shirt acting all tough and probably looking for a fight at the end of the night to suppress his sexual frustration. Next thing I know I have these same three guys in my face asking this girl why she kicked him. Apparently one of their friends stealthily cloaked in a flannel shirt had seen the incident and reported back to them an opportunity to release their frustrations. All I remember is looking around the place and not seeing anyone capable of backing me up should things get ugly. After a few tense minutes the guy and his friends (later dubbed the "Grey T-shirt Mafia") finally accepted the girl's story that she didn't know what he was talking about and that his friend must be mistaken. At that point I should have known it was time to leave but hey, things were going pretty good up to that point so why not try and close the deal?
We ended up closing down the bar and as I tried to get this girl to come home with me, her friends were there to "save" her. Chad was doing his best with the blonde but the red head wasn't letting it happen. The night ended with a string of phone numbers and email scrolled up and down my arms.
Now as I look back 6 years, I can only wonder where I would be if I'd never called those numbers on my arm a few days later and went out a week later with Gina on our first date. Probably still trying to pick up girls in bars.
Saturday, July 07, 2007
If You Haven't Visited Yet...
This site is a must read for all cyclists. I added this link a few weeks back, but after some of his more recent posts, this has officially become my favorite cycling blog, actually it's now my favorite cycling related website period.
http://bikesnobnyc.blogspot.com/
http://bikesnobnyc.blogspot.com/
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Please Make it Stop
Ok, seriously, I've had enough. The month of June thoroughly sucked all around so I was looking forward to moving on and having a much better July. Maybe that was the point of getting sick, stay at home, inside in bed so nothing could possibly go wrong, right? Yeah, dream on.
So Sunday I was feeling a bit better. Gina and I got up, took care of the dogs and went into E.C. for some breakfast at the Hollow Bean. The rest of the day was sedate, just lazy Sunday. But late in the afternoon I decided I needed to go outside and be productive. We have a line of Leyland Cypress trees lining the one side of the yard. I assume the previous owners who planted them had hoped they rapidly grew into a pseudo privacy fence of sorts. We've been here 3 1/2 years and they have barely grown a foot, and actually one or two of them had died so I figured it was a nice day to work outside, why not cut them down? We also had this wonderfully dead lilac tree on the corner of the house that also needed to go. All went well in the cutting down and removal of said dead trees.
So Monday I'm standing in line at Quiznos with my manager when I realize my left forearm is really starting to itch. Not thinking anything of it and not noticing any little red bumps, I proceed to scratch what turns out to be poison oak. Fantastic. The past three days have been miserable, I'm not sure which is worse, the itching or the slathering a 3rd of my body with calamine lotion.
For those of you lucky enough to have never had poison oak or poison ivy, here is what you're treated with. I have been very good at not scratching but this shit has spread like wildfire. Ground zero seems to have been my left forearm and wrist. While there is no tried and true cure for this stuff, I did come across a good recommendation for relieving the itching, hot water. And just not somewhat hot, but hot to the point of almost scalding your skin, yeah, wonderful trade-off right? But it works and feels freakin' awesome. I was in the bathroom trying it out on my arm when Gina walked in and asked what I was doing based on the excessive moaning she heard. At that point I had to admit that relieving the sensation of all of those nerve endings at once ranked right up there with sex. And the relief lasts much longer than the calamine lotion.
Moral of the story, yard work is bad for your health.
So Sunday I was feeling a bit better. Gina and I got up, took care of the dogs and went into E.C. for some breakfast at the Hollow Bean. The rest of the day was sedate, just lazy Sunday. But late in the afternoon I decided I needed to go outside and be productive. We have a line of Leyland Cypress trees lining the one side of the yard. I assume the previous owners who planted them had hoped they rapidly grew into a pseudo privacy fence of sorts. We've been here 3 1/2 years and they have barely grown a foot, and actually one or two of them had died so I figured it was a nice day to work outside, why not cut them down? We also had this wonderfully dead lilac tree on the corner of the house that also needed to go. All went well in the cutting down and removal of said dead trees.
So Monday I'm standing in line at Quiznos with my manager when I realize my left forearm is really starting to itch. Not thinking anything of it and not noticing any little red bumps, I proceed to scratch what turns out to be poison oak. Fantastic. The past three days have been miserable, I'm not sure which is worse, the itching or the slathering a 3rd of my body with calamine lotion.
For those of you lucky enough to have never had poison oak or poison ivy, here is what you're treated with. I have been very good at not scratching but this shit has spread like wildfire. Ground zero seems to have been my left forearm and wrist. While there is no tried and true cure for this stuff, I did come across a good recommendation for relieving the itching, hot water. And just not somewhat hot, but hot to the point of almost scalding your skin, yeah, wonderful trade-off right? But it works and feels freakin' awesome. I was in the bathroom trying it out on my arm when Gina walked in and asked what I was doing based on the excessive moaning she heard. At that point I had to admit that relieving the sensation of all of those nerve endings at once ranked right up there with sex. And the relief lasts much longer than the calamine lotion.
Moral of the story, yard work is bad for your health.
Sunday, July 01, 2007
One More for Good Measure
I spent the past couple of weeks preparing for the Smithsburg RR which was the MABRA age graded road race championships. I knew this was going to be my hardest race of the season and as the days closed in, the 30+ field got larger and the competition got exponentially hotter. The plan was to work for either Bryan or Mike and make sure they got into what was sure to be a breakaway with the strong guns and leave no horsepower left in the field to chase them down over 62miles of fairly hilly course.
As a primer for the weekend I made it down to Greenbelt for the Wednesday training race. It was hot and humid and it took it's toll on me early, I was sweating buckets 5 minutes into the race. I ended up punching out after 11 laps. The plan Thursday was to get a long easy ride in, but Boulder had his ACL surgery the day before and we picked him up from the Vet around noon and he was pretty pathetic.
The anesthesia had him well out of it but at the same time very restless. He just couldn't get comfortable and paced around and had to go out constantly to pee, which was limited to barely a trickle when he would finally get outside. Needless to say my chances of riding were quickly reduced to zero.
Then disaster struck. Around 4 I started to notice my lunch wasn't agreeing with me and felt like it was stuck in my chest. I figured I just ate too fast and it was indigestion. An hour later the fireworks started. First, I started out lying on the office floor with Boulder hoping the nausea would fade but then it hit me, my mouth started tingle and I was salivating uncontrollably. I knew what this meant and it wasn't going to be pretty. Within minutes I was hugging the toilet bowl and breaking into a cold sweat. Just to make things more complicated, my body decided to take a two pronged attack to purge whatever had invaded my gut and I found myself swapping positions and hoping I didn't have to blow from both ends at the same time.
To complicate matters, I was home alone taking care of Boulder who couldn't walk on his own and I had to carry him up and down the garage stairs to get him in and out of the house. After the second such trip following the start of my illness I couldn't do it and had to call Gina who was working late. For the next 7 hours I was downstairs on the couch making hourly trips to the bathroom. By around 2am I had successfully made it an hour without vomiting which meant I could start trying to replace the fluids I had lost. Since Friday morning I've lived off of Campbell's soup, pretzels and soda so needless to say, I didn't race yesterday. My dehydration headache has finally subsided, although it could have also been a result of my detox from caffeine helping the headache along.
Over the past three days what I did accomplish: lost 7lbs, slept for probably a good 60hrs, after watching Jay Leno Thursday night I have a new found respect for Dr. Phil, decided Leslie Mann (the drunk chick from 40 Year Old Virgin) is either the dumbest or most coked up actress in Hollywood and watched The Big Lebowski twice.
As a primer for the weekend I made it down to Greenbelt for the Wednesday training race. It was hot and humid and it took it's toll on me early, I was sweating buckets 5 minutes into the race. I ended up punching out after 11 laps. The plan Thursday was to get a long easy ride in, but Boulder had his ACL surgery the day before and we picked him up from the Vet around noon and he was pretty pathetic.
The anesthesia had him well out of it but at the same time very restless. He just couldn't get comfortable and paced around and had to go out constantly to pee, which was limited to barely a trickle when he would finally get outside. Needless to say my chances of riding were quickly reduced to zero.Then disaster struck. Around 4 I started to notice my lunch wasn't agreeing with me and felt like it was stuck in my chest. I figured I just ate too fast and it was indigestion. An hour later the fireworks started. First, I started out lying on the office floor with Boulder hoping the nausea would fade but then it hit me, my mouth started tingle and I was salivating uncontrollably. I knew what this meant and it wasn't going to be pretty. Within minutes I was hugging the toilet bowl and breaking into a cold sweat. Just to make things more complicated, my body decided to take a two pronged attack to purge whatever had invaded my gut and I found myself swapping positions and hoping I didn't have to blow from both ends at the same time.
To complicate matters, I was home alone taking care of Boulder who couldn't walk on his own and I had to carry him up and down the garage stairs to get him in and out of the house. After the second such trip following the start of my illness I couldn't do it and had to call Gina who was working late. For the next 7 hours I was downstairs on the couch making hourly trips to the bathroom. By around 2am I had successfully made it an hour without vomiting which meant I could start trying to replace the fluids I had lost. Since Friday morning I've lived off of Campbell's soup, pretzels and soda so needless to say, I didn't race yesterday. My dehydration headache has finally subsided, although it could have also been a result of my detox from caffeine helping the headache along.
Over the past three days what I did accomplish: lost 7lbs, slept for probably a good 60hrs, after watching Jay Leno Thursday night I have a new found respect for Dr. Phil, decided Leslie Mann (the drunk chick from 40 Year Old Virgin) is either the dumbest or most coked up actress in Hollywood and watched The Big Lebowski twice.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Ocean Size
Wish I was ocean size
They cannot move you
No one tries
No one pulls you
Out from your hole
Like a tooth aching a jawbone...
I was made with a heart of stone
To be broken
With one hard blow
I've seen the ocean
Break on the shore
Come together with no harm done...
It ain't easy living...
I want to be
As deep
As the ocean
Mother ocean
Some people tell me
Home is in the sky
In the sky lives a spy
I want to be more like the ocean
No talking
All action...
No talking
All action...
lyrics - Jane's Addiciton
They cannot move you
No one tries
No one pulls you
Out from your hole
Like a tooth aching a jawbone...
I was made with a heart of stone
To be broken
With one hard blow
I've seen the ocean
Break on the shore
Come together with no harm done...
It ain't easy living...
I want to be
As deep
As the ocean
Mother ocean
Some people tell me
Home is in the sky
In the sky lives a spy
I want to be more like the ocean
No talking
All action...
No talking
All action...
lyrics - Jane's Addiciton
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Busted
The past 2 weeks have been pretty shitty and I kinda needed to blow off some steam. I was really looking forward to the Pfeiffer Hill road race in Lancaster on Saturday but life decided to deal me another sharp blow to the sack and that just didn't happen. I did however make a last minute decision to register for the Cargas Crit in Lancaster today. There was the RFK crit in DC that was much closer and part of MABRA, but this was going to be my Closet Race. You know, race on the downlow where no one knows you and no one will look at the results to see you were even there? Kind of like closet training, when you're out riding 3-4hrs a day but you tell all of your friends you haven't ridden your bike in weeks so if you suck ass on the group ride you can just say it's because you haven't been riding, but if you hang and maybe throw down a bit, everyone is jealous because they think you're fit without riding.
Today was my closet race, no pressure, no one from the team was going to be there (according to pre-reg) and I could hopefully pull my ass out of this funk I've been in (read funk as "not being able to finish a race in 2 months").
The day started out good, except for briefly losing Riley who somehow managed to escape from the backyard to roam the neighborhood pilaging and plundering for food and small animals. I hit the road early making the all too familiar trek up the beltway to I83. As I'm merging onto 83 from the beltway this BMW SUV goes flying by me swerving in and out of lanes to get around slow moving traffic. I didn't really think much of it until about 15miles later when the same SUV comes cruising up next to me and the girl in the passenger seat is waving and smiling, I thought maybe she was taunting me and Special Sauce but as they went past I noticed bikes in the back and I realized it was Wendy and Ramon. Busted, there goes my anonymity for the day. It was ok because I think Wendy had the same idea as me as she should have surely been at RFK with the women's team trying to bring home BAR points. To top it off when I got to the race, I noticed Bobby Phillips in the 50+ race. Nice, club President and VP going out of state to race when there's a local BAR race that day.
For an industrial park crit, I have to say this is the nicest one around, I mean there's a real park and lots of trees, you didn't really even notice the one story industrial office park buildings. The D-shaped course was similar to Tyson's Corner, minus a turn. Fast uphill with a long, sweeping downhill. After a long week with little riding, I wasn't expecting much. Warming up, my legs were sore and stiff and I knew that little hill would start to hurt way too soon. The 3/4 field was the largest of the day with close to 80 riders, that was good since my plan was to sit in. The first couple of laps hurt a bit as my legs opened up but they were more responsive on the hill than I expected. With about 10 laps done of a 25 lap race, my left calf starts to cramp, shit! Two laps later my right calf starts to twinge, that's really not good. I try to drink as much as I can, but I'm horrible at drinking while racing. I tried to minimze the hard efforts and not flex my calves for too long, wishful thinking in a crit. E-town was there with a couple of his FSVS teammates and at one point going up the hill I was boxed in so I gave him a bit of a push to urge him to close a gap and I think it kind of startled him, sorry! I managed to hold out and finish the race, not expecting to have anything for the uphill sprint finish, I sat up before the last turn in case there was a crash and cruised across the finish line, but not DFL.
So basically I've come to the conclusion that I can only finish a race in Pennsylvania this season. Deleware is a draw since that race ended on a mechanical and not an engine failure.
Today was my closet race, no pressure, no one from the team was going to be there (according to pre-reg) and I could hopefully pull my ass out of this funk I've been in (read funk as "not being able to finish a race in 2 months").
The day started out good, except for briefly losing Riley who somehow managed to escape from the backyard to roam the neighborhood pilaging and plundering for food and small animals. I hit the road early making the all too familiar trek up the beltway to I83. As I'm merging onto 83 from the beltway this BMW SUV goes flying by me swerving in and out of lanes to get around slow moving traffic. I didn't really think much of it until about 15miles later when the same SUV comes cruising up next to me and the girl in the passenger seat is waving and smiling, I thought maybe she was taunting me and Special Sauce but as they went past I noticed bikes in the back and I realized it was Wendy and Ramon. Busted, there goes my anonymity for the day. It was ok because I think Wendy had the same idea as me as she should have surely been at RFK with the women's team trying to bring home BAR points. To top it off when I got to the race, I noticed Bobby Phillips in the 50+ race. Nice, club President and VP going out of state to race when there's a local BAR race that day.
For an industrial park crit, I have to say this is the nicest one around, I mean there's a real park and lots of trees, you didn't really even notice the one story industrial office park buildings. The D-shaped course was similar to Tyson's Corner, minus a turn. Fast uphill with a long, sweeping downhill. After a long week with little riding, I wasn't expecting much. Warming up, my legs were sore and stiff and I knew that little hill would start to hurt way too soon. The 3/4 field was the largest of the day with close to 80 riders, that was good since my plan was to sit in. The first couple of laps hurt a bit as my legs opened up but they were more responsive on the hill than I expected. With about 10 laps done of a 25 lap race, my left calf starts to cramp, shit! Two laps later my right calf starts to twinge, that's really not good. I try to drink as much as I can, but I'm horrible at drinking while racing. I tried to minimze the hard efforts and not flex my calves for too long, wishful thinking in a crit. E-town was there with a couple of his FSVS teammates and at one point going up the hill I was boxed in so I gave him a bit of a push to urge him to close a gap and I think it kind of startled him, sorry! I managed to hold out and finish the race, not expecting to have anything for the uphill sprint finish, I sat up before the last turn in case there was a crash and cruised across the finish line, but not DFL.
So basically I've come to the conclusion that I can only finish a race in Pennsylvania this season. Deleware is a draw since that race ended on a mechanical and not an engine failure.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Full Circle
Not sure which to report first, the good news or the bad. I guess we'll start with the good. We finally figured out why Gina has been so hungry lately (and a bit hormonal).
Now for the bad news, Gina's father passed away late Thursday, finally succumbing to the big C. Fortunately she was able to tell him the day before she was pregnant, which was somewhat bitter sweet.
Harrold H. Swarm
Harrold H. Swarm, 70, of 1808 Northbrook Drive, Lancaster, Pa died June 8, 2007 at Lancaster General Hospital.
Born in Huron S. Dakota, he was the son of the late Harvey H. and Fern Howard Swarm. Harrold was married to Mary E. Vizzi Swarm for 46 years.
Mr. Swarm was a metallurgical engineer for 25 years with Alcoa and retired in 1995. His memberships included American Legion of Oak Orchard, Delaware, and the Athletic Board of Lancaster Catholic High School. He enjoyed golf and the Barnstormers. He served in the US Army and was stationed in Germany and California.
Now for the bad news, Gina's father passed away late Thursday, finally succumbing to the big C. Fortunately she was able to tell him the day before she was pregnant, which was somewhat bitter sweet.
Harrold H. SwarmHarrold H. Swarm, 70, of 1808 Northbrook Drive, Lancaster, Pa died June 8, 2007 at Lancaster General Hospital.
Born in Huron S. Dakota, he was the son of the late Harvey H. and Fern Howard Swarm. Harrold was married to Mary E. Vizzi Swarm for 46 years.
Mr. Swarm was a metallurgical engineer for 25 years with Alcoa and retired in 1995. His memberships included American Legion of Oak Orchard, Delaware, and the Athletic Board of Lancaster Catholic High School. He enjoyed golf and the Barnstormers. He served in the US Army and was stationed in Germany and California.
Friday, June 01, 2007
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Update
Nothing of much interest to report hence the lack of posts lately. The only major news is we have now taken to calling Boulder Tripod. Yeah, that would be funny if he were two legged to start out, but unfortuantely it's not the case. The maniac has been hobbling around on three legs for the past couple of weeks. It started out as a limp and he didn't want to bear weight on it, but now he's full on flamingo style. We couldn't get an appointment with the othropedic vet until mid-June but while at the regular vet they evalauted him and determined he tore his ACL. Great. There goes another chunk of change.
I kind of thought the whole idea of pet insurance was a bit of a scam, but now that I look back, it would have been totally worth it. I can't imagine not caring for my dog if something happened to him. I was at Bike Jam this past weekend and there were losts of people out with their dogs, which was kind of cruel considering the sweltering heat that day. I watched as one lady's dog basically gave up and thought was going to die or heat exhaustion. The poor dog which was probably 120lbs with a heavy coat of hair was lying limp in the field. I thought she was simply playing around with it but she was trying to roll it over and get it to stand up and get out of the sun. Fortunately she was able to get it to move.
The worst though are the people who own animals only to feel better about themselves. Earlier on in the day this older man comes walking through the park, paying no mind to the barriers blocking the course while there's a race going on, dragging his poor border collie by the neck. And when the dog wanted to stop for a break he yanks the leash so hard the dog skids along the grass. All a dog ever wants is to be your best friend and unfortunately some get stuck with people who need them around for thier own insecurities.
All Boulder wants to do is be your best friend and for that I'll gladly pay what ever it costs to make him better. Even if we do have to start calling him theMillion Dollar Dog.
I kind of thought the whole idea of pet insurance was a bit of a scam, but now that I look back, it would have been totally worth it. I can't imagine not caring for my dog if something happened to him. I was at Bike Jam this past weekend and there were losts of people out with their dogs, which was kind of cruel considering the sweltering heat that day. I watched as one lady's dog basically gave up and thought was going to die or heat exhaustion. The poor dog which was probably 120lbs with a heavy coat of hair was lying limp in the field. I thought she was simply playing around with it but she was trying to roll it over and get it to stand up and get out of the sun. Fortunately she was able to get it to move.
The worst though are the people who own animals only to feel better about themselves. Earlier on in the day this older man comes walking through the park, paying no mind to the barriers blocking the course while there's a race going on, dragging his poor border collie by the neck. And when the dog wanted to stop for a break he yanks the leash so hard the dog skids along the grass. All a dog ever wants is to be your best friend and unfortunately some get stuck with people who need them around for thier own insecurities.
All Boulder wants to do is be your best friend and for that I'll gladly pay what ever it costs to make him better. Even if we do have to start calling him theMillion Dollar Dog.
Friday, May 18, 2007
Manic Friday
I started this post Friday not knowing how my weekend would develop. Let's just say I called it.
After years of racing bikes, both on and off road, I've established a few unwritten rules to live by if you want to make it through a race weekend. Breaking any one of these rules can lead to either total race disaster or a pre-race day melt down. The two most important rules are:
1. NEVER, under any circumstances, make unnecessary changes to your race rig the week before a race, no matter how minor,
2. Pack your bag the day before, trying to pack your gear the day of a race will eventually catch up with you in the form of forgotten helmet, shoes or other must have implement of race day destruction.
Live by these rules and everything will usually run smoothly until the gun goes off, don't and you'll have a day like today. I usually live by rule #1 to a tee. There's nothing worse than treking to the bike shop on a Friday night looking for a part to make your bike ridable again. Thursday I decided I really needed to get the creaking out of my bottom bracket, easy enough. Use extracting tool to pull crank arms from BB, remove BB wil BB tool, clean, grease and replace parts in reverse order of removal, make sure it's all nce and tight when done. Easy right? Thread extracting tool into drive side crank arm and remove, check. Thread extracting tool into non-drive side crank arm and extract, WTF? Instead of the crank arm slipping effortlessly of of the BB axel, to my utter dismay the extracting tool is extracting the threads from my crank arm as it removes itself. This is NOT good. I try threading the tool back on but it's not lined up so it just keeps pushing itself out of the crank arm. I call up to Race Pace and fortunately Bork answers the call, he laughs as I explain my situation and tells me there is hope. So Friday I stop in for what takes all of 2 seconds for him to pop the (ruined) XT crank arm off.
Now I'm left to pretty much replace my drivetrain at this point since I don't have another set of XT or similar 5-arm cranks that will work with my now obsolete Surly Blowerdriver chainring guard/mount. So I'm left to putting a 5-arm XT spider on a set of XTR cranks w/o my trusty Blowerdriver since the XTR crank arm profile is to low and cannot be mounted on the Blowerdriver. This leaves me with a very different chain line so I need to move the cog on the rear wheel almost to the end of the cassette body. Still using my trusty Singleator, I get everything running with a nice straight chain line and go for a short spin with Thomas. Other than forgetting to tighten the cassette lock ring causing some chain slippage, life was good. I tightened everything up and went out yesterday with Bryan for another ride and she rode flawlessy.
Having put the race rig back together and overcoming sure disaster, I was primed and ready to rock the Expert SS class at Granogue today.
Fatmarc along with Tom McDaniel and crew put on an excellent event and found trails there I don't ever remember. I swear the trails they used on the last half of the course were freshly cut this week and they hauled in dump truck loads of rocks to spread on them.
However, I committed another cardinal sin and broke my second rule of racing. Instead of packing my bag last night after having a fine cook out dinner with Bryan, Jailene and Zoey, I opted for dessert and an early bed time. So this morning I grab a handful of bike clothes from the laundry room, throw them in my bag and we hit the road. Somewhere around the Ft. McHenry tunnel traveling up Rt. 95 I realized I forgot gloves. I would have rather forgotten my helmet as I did not look forward to the idea of racing 21 miles on a rigid SS with no gloves. I might as well grab the tires of Special Sauce at 80mph for the desired effect in a shorter amount of time.
As we're headed up 95, Bryan is searching through his bag and realizes some of his clothes are
wet. After closer inspection, they smell of beer. A few seconds later I hear "Hmm, where did this beer come from?" He pulls out a half empty, yet still sealed, can of Old Milwaukee's Best Light. "This must be left over from 'cross season" he says. So to my luck Bryan has a spare set of gloves to lend me, however they're soaked in very stale beer. On the first lap I needed to wipe some sweat from my face and as I put my hand to my face the smell made me flash back to college and the stench of our apartment the morning after a keg party. I almost threw up as I tried to keep from riding off the trail into the woods.
The race was going well, even for having to hump up that bastard wall climb from the 'cross race. Can you tell I was happy to see it when I came around on the first lap?
For most of the first lap I was following Buddy the Leg Breaker. I figured what better wheel to follow than the guy who helped put the course together? As I ran past him on one little climb, he laughs and says, "I love to see guys run, the hardest part is still to come." No shit. Like I said, those were some of the fastest, loosest trails I've been on in a while and the only section of the course that never really dried out from last nights rain making them even more sketchy.
The race was going well, except for the fact that I was kicking myself for not swapping the 16T cog out for something a little more humane, like the pimpy 17T Chris King stainless steel cog I picked up at Race Pace on Thursday, until at the start of the third lap my trusty (I'm going to stop calling it that now) Singleator took a shit on me. After the log bridge and nasty root section I was out of the saddle punching a little climb when I almost summer saulted my bike. Somehow the spring tension on the Singleator gave out and the chain was skipping on the rear cog under load. There was a guy working the race and he gave me a 5mm to try and fix it but as I took off, the chain started skipping again. I ended up having to call it a day.
After years of racing bikes, both on and off road, I've established a few unwritten rules to live by if you want to make it through a race weekend. Breaking any one of these rules can lead to either total race disaster or a pre-race day melt down. The two most important rules are:
1. NEVER, under any circumstances, make unnecessary changes to your race rig the week before a race, no matter how minor,
2. Pack your bag the day before, trying to pack your gear the day of a race will eventually catch up with you in the form of forgotten helmet, shoes or other must have implement of race day destruction.
Live by these rules and everything will usually run smoothly until the gun goes off, don't and you'll have a day like today. I usually live by rule #1 to a tee. There's nothing worse than treking to the bike shop on a Friday night looking for a part to make your bike ridable again. Thursday I decided I really needed to get the creaking out of my bottom bracket, easy enough. Use extracting tool to pull crank arms from BB, remove BB wil BB tool, clean, grease and replace parts in reverse order of removal, make sure it's all nce and tight when done. Easy right? Thread extracting tool into drive side crank arm and remove, check. Thread extracting tool into non-drive side crank arm and extract, WTF? Instead of the crank arm slipping effortlessly of of the BB axel, to my utter dismay the extracting tool is extracting the threads from my crank arm as it removes itself. This is NOT good. I try threading the tool back on but it's not lined up so it just keeps pushing itself out of the crank arm. I call up to Race Pace and fortunately Bork answers the call, he laughs as I explain my situation and tells me there is hope. So Friday I stop in for what takes all of 2 seconds for him to pop the (ruined) XT crank arm off.
Now I'm left to pretty much replace my drivetrain at this point since I don't have another set of XT or similar 5-arm cranks that will work with my now obsolete Surly Blowerdriver chainring guard/mount. So I'm left to putting a 5-arm XT spider on a set of XTR cranks w/o my trusty Blowerdriver since the XTR crank arm profile is to low and cannot be mounted on the Blowerdriver. This leaves me with a very different chain line so I need to move the cog on the rear wheel almost to the end of the cassette body. Still using my trusty Singleator, I get everything running with a nice straight chain line and go for a short spin with Thomas. Other than forgetting to tighten the cassette lock ring causing some chain slippage, life was good. I tightened everything up and went out yesterday with Bryan for another ride and she rode flawlessy.
Having put the race rig back together and overcoming sure disaster, I was primed and ready to rock the Expert SS class at Granogue today.
Fatmarc along with Tom McDaniel and crew put on an excellent event and found trails there I don't ever remember. I swear the trails they used on the last half of the course were freshly cut this week and they hauled in dump truck loads of rocks to spread on them.However, I committed another cardinal sin and broke my second rule of racing. Instead of packing my bag last night after having a fine cook out dinner with Bryan, Jailene and Zoey, I opted for dessert and an early bed time. So this morning I grab a handful of bike clothes from the laundry room, throw them in my bag and we hit the road. Somewhere around the Ft. McHenry tunnel traveling up Rt. 95 I realized I forgot gloves. I would have rather forgotten my helmet as I did not look forward to the idea of racing 21 miles on a rigid SS with no gloves. I might as well grab the tires of Special Sauce at 80mph for the desired effect in a shorter amount of time.
As we're headed up 95, Bryan is searching through his bag and realizes some of his clothes are
wet. After closer inspection, they smell of beer. A few seconds later I hear "Hmm, where did this beer come from?" He pulls out a half empty, yet still sealed, can of Old Milwaukee's Best Light. "This must be left over from 'cross season" he says. So to my luck Bryan has a spare set of gloves to lend me, however they're soaked in very stale beer. On the first lap I needed to wipe some sweat from my face and as I put my hand to my face the smell made me flash back to college and the stench of our apartment the morning after a keg party. I almost threw up as I tried to keep from riding off the trail into the woods.The race was going well, even for having to hump up that bastard wall climb from the 'cross race. Can you tell I was happy to see it when I came around on the first lap?
For most of the first lap I was following Buddy the Leg Breaker. I figured what better wheel to follow than the guy who helped put the course together? As I ran past him on one little climb, he laughs and says, "I love to see guys run, the hardest part is still to come." No shit. Like I said, those were some of the fastest, loosest trails I've been on in a while and the only section of the course that never really dried out from last nights rain making them even more sketchy.
The race was going well, except for the fact that I was kicking myself for not swapping the 16T cog out for something a little more humane, like the pimpy 17T Chris King stainless steel cog I picked up at Race Pace on Thursday, until at the start of the third lap my trusty (I'm going to stop calling it that now) Singleator took a shit on me. After the log bridge and nasty root section I was out of the saddle punching a little climb when I almost summer saulted my bike. Somehow the spring tension on the Singleator gave out and the chain was skipping on the rear cog under load. There was a guy working the race and he gave me a 5mm to try and fix it but as I took off, the chain started skipping again. I ended up having to call it a day.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Single Track Mind
Four rides in three days, all on picture perfect days on super fast trails. I knew last week that Poolesville was going to bring me down, and without a missing a step, it walked all over my ass. But I prepared myself and lined up some friends for a Ronde de Avalon on Sunday morning. Forgetting the prior day's disappointment, I met up with Chip, Theresa, her boy toy Wayne and their friend Mark (who happens to fly helicopters for Howard Co. police, pretty cool job I'd say) at the park and ride. As I pulled in, there are several Baltimore Co. police and Chip seems to be talking to one of them. Apparently one was handling a break-in while the other was taking a report of a stolen car. Some poor kid from Penn St. had just gone into the park with his friends and went back to his car and it was gone, to make matters worse, as he was standing there dumb-founded the asshole that stole his car went driving by in it. Ouch.
We set out from the park and ride and headed up and over towards the Hilton area. Hilton has some of the more technical trails at Avalon, twisty and rocky with some steep, knarly decents. We get to the the top before the final decent down to the river and Theresa decides to mention it was Wayne's first time at Avalon. I asked her what she was thinking letting us bring him to this side as we were about to decend one of the most technical downhills in the park. Time for your final exam. After several large log crossings you're presented with a series of significant drop offs that require a sharp left or right turn quickly after, so not carrying too much speed and overshooting the turn is as key as not going slow enough so you don't just endo. To make a long story short, the ride was cut short due to injuries, hopefully none of them serious.
Later that afternoon Thomas calls me up, he had been stuck at the Sheep and Shear? with his kids. I don't know what that is but you won't find me there. He's finally free and looking to ride. He swings by the house to pick me up and we drop in from Landing Rd. for a quick hour or so loop. Twenty minutes into the ride my trusty steed starts having problems.
The chain is skipping, kinda odd for a single speed. We stop and I notice the derailleur hanger is slightly bent outwards which would cause the chain alignment through my Surly Singleator chain tensioner to be off. With a little wrenching I bend the hanger back and realign the chain. Life is good so we take off. Minutes later, my chain is skipping again and then it comes off the rear cog, WTF???
I ride my single speed for two reasons, first it's the purest form of riding. There's nothing to think about but ripping the trails and two, it's simple, no gears, not chain suck, no skipping, none of that crap you put up with on a geared bike. Also, thanks again Sean for that sweet Vicious fork you gave me years ago for Christmas!
So I stop again and notice the pulley of the Singleator is not aligned, the pich bolt on the main arm must need tightening so I take out my 4mm and go to work. As I'm tightening the bolt, or so I think, I start seeing little metal threads work their way out, that's not good. Hoping there was some thread left deeper in the arm, I removed a water bottle cage bolt which was longer and tried that to no avail. I love the Surly Singleator but when that one simple part breaks, you're f$!@ed. There was no good chain length that would work without the tensioner so the remainder of my ride was a run as I told Thomas to finish his ride and I would meet him back at the truck.
Monday I swung by Race Pace bike shop which is awesome enough to stock Surly parts, almost everyone who works there rides a singlespeed so having the parts around is a must. I was rollin' again that night with the new and "improved" model.
Really it's just the chain guide that's improved over the little 'U' shaped guard they used to use and would sometimes clamp down on your chain. The lines and the finish of the main arm are cleaner, must have a new CNC machine.
Monday's ride was solo, just cruising the trails and enjoying the day.
Tonight I wanted to stretch my legs before racing tomorrow so I cruised over to the park for another solo ride. I love living so close that I can ride there. As I turn down Landing Rd. Thomas is coming the other direction. He's meeting Bill for a quick loop so I wait for them to get ready. We all agreed on a steady pace so we started out towards to horse farm loop since I didn't want to do too much climbing. Immediately I knew it was going to be hard to hold back, but with the single speed, most of it is just keeping your momentum and being smooth through technical stuff, not necessarily putting the hammer down. Most gear heads don't get that and assume you're hammering. We met up with their friend Paul and soon we were four ripping the trails and enjoying another beautiful day.
We set out from the park and ride and headed up and over towards the Hilton area. Hilton has some of the more technical trails at Avalon, twisty and rocky with some steep, knarly decents. We get to the the top before the final decent down to the river and Theresa decides to mention it was Wayne's first time at Avalon. I asked her what she was thinking letting us bring him to this side as we were about to decend one of the most technical downhills in the park. Time for your final exam. After several large log crossings you're presented with a series of significant drop offs that require a sharp left or right turn quickly after, so not carrying too much speed and overshooting the turn is as key as not going slow enough so you don't just endo. To make a long story short, the ride was cut short due to injuries, hopefully none of them serious.
Later that afternoon Thomas calls me up, he had been stuck at the Sheep and Shear? with his kids. I don't know what that is but you won't find me there. He's finally free and looking to ride. He swings by the house to pick me up and we drop in from Landing Rd. for a quick hour or so loop. Twenty minutes into the ride my trusty steed starts having problems.
The chain is skipping, kinda odd for a single speed. We stop and I notice the derailleur hanger is slightly bent outwards which would cause the chain alignment through my Surly Singleator chain tensioner to be off. With a little wrenching I bend the hanger back and realign the chain. Life is good so we take off. Minutes later, my chain is skipping again and then it comes off the rear cog, WTF???I ride my single speed for two reasons, first it's the purest form of riding. There's nothing to think about but ripping the trails and two, it's simple, no gears, not chain suck, no skipping, none of that crap you put up with on a geared bike. Also, thanks again Sean for that sweet Vicious fork you gave me years ago for Christmas!
So I stop again and notice the pulley of the Singleator is not aligned, the pich bolt on the main arm must need tightening so I take out my 4mm and go to work. As I'm tightening the bolt, or so I think, I start seeing little metal threads work their way out, that's not good. Hoping there was some thread left deeper in the arm, I removed a water bottle cage bolt which was longer and tried that to no avail. I love the Surly Singleator but when that one simple part breaks, you're f$!@ed. There was no good chain length that would work without the tensioner so the remainder of my ride was a run as I told Thomas to finish his ride and I would meet him back at the truck.
Monday I swung by Race Pace bike shop which is awesome enough to stock Surly parts, almost everyone who works there rides a singlespeed so having the parts around is a must. I was rollin' again that night with the new and "improved" model.
Really it's just the chain guide that's improved over the little 'U' shaped guard they used to use and would sometimes clamp down on your chain. The lines and the finish of the main arm are cleaner, must have a new CNC machine.Monday's ride was solo, just cruising the trails and enjoying the day.
Tonight I wanted to stretch my legs before racing tomorrow so I cruised over to the park for another solo ride. I love living so close that I can ride there. As I turn down Landing Rd. Thomas is coming the other direction. He's meeting Bill for a quick loop so I wait for them to get ready. We all agreed on a steady pace so we started out towards to horse farm loop since I didn't want to do too much climbing. Immediately I knew it was going to be hard to hold back, but with the single speed, most of it is just keeping your momentum and being smooth through technical stuff, not necessarily putting the hammer down. Most gear heads don't get that and assume you're hammering. We met up with their friend Paul and soon we were four ripping the trails and enjoying another beautiful day.
Friday, May 04, 2007
Wish You Were Here
I've had that song stuck in my head for a while now, it's probably my favorite Pink Floyd song and it's not even on my iPod. That song evokes alot of memories, good and bad. It's amazing how the mind and body work sometimes, how a sound or smell can conjure up memories and experiences that are years old and thought to be forgotten but are brought back in an instant like it just happened . Not to get all Timothy Leary on ya, but I think the mind is too complex for us to ever comprehend on a conscious level.
It's already May, that means only one thing, Poolesville. The race from hell. This race is my nemesis, my sworn enemy. I remember February like it was yesterday, after getting sick and telling myself I still had over 2 months to get ready for this race. So much for that. I never do well at Poolesville, it's a pure race of attrition but like most cyclists, I'm a glutton for punishment and continue to offer up my entry fee year in and year out. Two years ago when I was feeling really fit I had the wild hair up my ass to register for two races. The first race I blew up pulling back a strong early break and got dropped for my effort, the second race I flatted out on the second lap. Thanks for playing, and your $50.
Whatever, the racing isn't as important this year, it's purely about having fun and learning more about myself and my body in the process. Last year was rough and the start of this year seems to be a bit better but lately I can feel my toes dangling over the slippery edge of that downward spiral I was in last year. Although, I think I seem to have identified my problem and have made some corrections in training and life management in general.
Life truly is about balance, the things you enjoy and the things you just have to do to get by, I've found that too much of one makes you despise the other.
It's already May, that means only one thing, Poolesville. The race from hell. This race is my nemesis, my sworn enemy. I remember February like it was yesterday, after getting sick and telling myself I still had over 2 months to get ready for this race. So much for that. I never do well at Poolesville, it's a pure race of attrition but like most cyclists, I'm a glutton for punishment and continue to offer up my entry fee year in and year out. Two years ago when I was feeling really fit I had the wild hair up my ass to register for two races. The first race I blew up pulling back a strong early break and got dropped for my effort, the second race I flatted out on the second lap. Thanks for playing, and your $50.
Whatever, the racing isn't as important this year, it's purely about having fun and learning more about myself and my body in the process. Last year was rough and the start of this year seems to be a bit better but lately I can feel my toes dangling over the slippery edge of that downward spiral I was in last year. Although, I think I seem to have identified my problem and have made some corrections in training and life management in general.
Life truly is about balance, the things you enjoy and the things you just have to do to get by, I've found that too much of one makes you despise the other.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
All Thanks to OJ
I don't typically rant about politics, religion or other serious and controversial topics, more for fear of it coming up in my background investigation by the FBI or some other G-man investigator processing my top secret clearance, but I need to get this one out. This is the product of a really long road ride today where after a couple of hours the mind just begins spilling out uncontrollably everything that has been bottled up. It's a mental cleansing for me. Contrast that with mountain biking which is more of a soul cleansing experience, you don't think too much, you just try and be one with the trail and forget about everything else. Maybe I should just ride my mountain bike.
So to my point. First off, I'm not trying to debate the Constitution or say that our founding fathers didn't have the foresight to see what a f'd up world we would create. I'm just trying to make sense of everything lately. This all started last week with the tragedy at Virginia Tech, but the tipping point for this post was this ridiculously inappropriate and disrespectful article I had the complete misfortune of reading first thing this morning.
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/24/AR2007042402595.html
What is the media thinking? The editor who allowed this piece of trash to be published should be publicly flogged. We know the situation in Iraq is bad, but this piece of journalism (term used very loosely) isn't even worthy of the National Inquirer.
Now flashback to the events of last week. The first thing the media said they WOULDN'T do was make this story about the killer. Bullshit. That lasted all of what, a day? The other real tragedy of this situation is the complete circus the media made of the entire event. Do they have no respect for privacy and personal grieving, that question is rhetorical. The first amendment is a great thing, and we're lucky to have its protection so don't get me wrong, but the need for sensationalism and higher ratings is rotting the value of the first amendment from the inside out. News and media outlets need to be held accountable for what amount to nothing more than reckless behavior that's detrimental to society as a whole.
Everyone wants to know "How could this happen?". Well, here's part of the answer whether you like it or not. And before you finish the first sentence, don't worry I'll get to the liberals next. Let's start with the gun totting, right-wing conservative NRA and lobbyists for the gun industry backed by our Commander in Chief who has repealed or let lapse multiple gun laws in his illustrious tenure, all at the very open displeasure and dismay by members of law enforcement. I also believe in the second amendment but please, no one needs to own automatic weapons, and some people obviously shouldn't own any weapons at all. Now, couple the conservatives with the left-wing, bleeding heart liberals and privacy advocates who would rather die (or more rightly, let you die) than allow the government to use someones history of mental illness against them in a background investigation for the purchase of a gun. It's actually amazing, if these guys are so good at keeping your private data from the government, then why can't they keep public companies from selling my information to the highest bidder?
This country has gotten so polarized with picking sides in the left-wing, right-wing debate that no one can see that there can be no black and white when it comes to issues like this, because when they bleed together it always turns out to be the color of blood.
So to my point. First off, I'm not trying to debate the Constitution or say that our founding fathers didn't have the foresight to see what a f'd up world we would create. I'm just trying to make sense of everything lately. This all started last week with the tragedy at Virginia Tech, but the tipping point for this post was this ridiculously inappropriate and disrespectful article I had the complete misfortune of reading first thing this morning.
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/24/AR2007042402595.html
What is the media thinking? The editor who allowed this piece of trash to be published should be publicly flogged. We know the situation in Iraq is bad, but this piece of journalism (term used very loosely) isn't even worthy of the National Inquirer.
Now flashback to the events of last week. The first thing the media said they WOULDN'T do was make this story about the killer. Bullshit. That lasted all of what, a day? The other real tragedy of this situation is the complete circus the media made of the entire event. Do they have no respect for privacy and personal grieving, that question is rhetorical. The first amendment is a great thing, and we're lucky to have its protection so don't get me wrong, but the need for sensationalism and higher ratings is rotting the value of the first amendment from the inside out. News and media outlets need to be held accountable for what amount to nothing more than reckless behavior that's detrimental to society as a whole.
Everyone wants to know "How could this happen?". Well, here's part of the answer whether you like it or not. And before you finish the first sentence, don't worry I'll get to the liberals next. Let's start with the gun totting, right-wing conservative NRA and lobbyists for the gun industry backed by our Commander in Chief who has repealed or let lapse multiple gun laws in his illustrious tenure, all at the very open displeasure and dismay by members of law enforcement. I also believe in the second amendment but please, no one needs to own automatic weapons, and some people obviously shouldn't own any weapons at all. Now, couple the conservatives with the left-wing, bleeding heart liberals and privacy advocates who would rather die (or more rightly, let you die) than allow the government to use someones history of mental illness against them in a background investigation for the purchase of a gun. It's actually amazing, if these guys are so good at keeping your private data from the government, then why can't they keep public companies from selling my information to the highest bidder?
This country has gotten so polarized with picking sides in the left-wing, right-wing debate that no one can see that there can be no black and white when it comes to issues like this, because when they bleed together it always turns out to be the color of blood.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
The Pain Cave
Today's circuit race in Columbia was a lesson in suffering, and there was plenty to go around and not just mine. This race has a history of being filled with crashes in the lower categories, one main reason I opted for the 1/2/3 race. As history once again repeated itself, several teammates in different races had pretty bad days. In the 30/40 race Ace somehow T-boned a guy who cut in front him, crashing his sweet Pinarello and cracking the frame in half. The worst of the day was one of our new riders who hit the deck really hard at the finish of the 3/4 race. He was transported to the hospital with a possible pelvic fracture and broken collarbone. As I sit here I think about how I've been really lucky in my road racing career to have never hit the deck hard in a race and it's definitely something I'm not trying to experience anytime soon.
The day started out early with the 4/5 race and my buddy who was looking for a little help in his preparation. Gina and I pulled in to the race too late to catch him and give him some last minute advice for the uphill sprint finish. He had a really good race, for his first race he was smart and stayed near the front, not getting caught off the back chasing and wasting energy or sitting on the front pulling the field around fruitlessly. One piece of advice I gave him early on was don't worry about not being fit enough for this race, worry about the muppets around you in the race who don't understand (or care for that matter) whose next to them when they decide to jump around someone. He made it to within 500m of finishing his first race, with relative ease mind you, before one said muppet took him down. Not at all the best finish to your first race and fortunately he was ok, although you couldn't tell by the shattered helmet, just some minor scrapes.
As for me I knew it was going to be a hard day. This was me yesterday dethatching the lawn, yeah I know. Anyway, the dethatcher we rented was a bit more industrial in strength. For an hour I was drug around our yard by what felt more like a rolling jackhammer. My hands are still vibrating.
By the end of the day I was tired from being worked over by a piece of lawn equipment followed by raking up all the dead grass and so sunburned that the thought of getting on my bike to open the legs up was the furthest thing from my mind.
The race started out fast and furious as expected. We were averaging a good 28-29mph for the first couple laps with breaks constantly trying to form and being chased down. About 6 laps into the 18 lap race I realized that no amount of drink was quenching my thirst as all I could do was spit cotton balls.
And no matter how much I tried, I just couldn't stay near the front. Everytime up the climb I would move up, only to end up at the back minutes later. 6 laps later I punched out. I knew it was coming too, we had crested the climb past the start finish and instead of moving up, I was still sucking hind tit near the back and the pack was strung out in one long single file line about 400m long. A surge came and I just couldn't respond. I was on Spencer's wheel when it happened and after the race he said he remembered looking down and he was pushing 400W going 33mph. Yeah, my top end is just not there yet. I can't say it was a relaxing end to a rest week.
Anyway, I hope everyone that went down is ok. I'm going to try and stop by the hospital tomorrow to check on our rider as I'm sure he probably spent the night.
The day started out early with the 4/5 race and my buddy who was looking for a little help in his preparation. Gina and I pulled in to the race too late to catch him and give him some last minute advice for the uphill sprint finish. He had a really good race, for his first race he was smart and stayed near the front, not getting caught off the back chasing and wasting energy or sitting on the front pulling the field around fruitlessly. One piece of advice I gave him early on was don't worry about not being fit enough for this race, worry about the muppets around you in the race who don't understand (or care for that matter) whose next to them when they decide to jump around someone. He made it to within 500m of finishing his first race, with relative ease mind you, before one said muppet took him down. Not at all the best finish to your first race and fortunately he was ok, although you couldn't tell by the shattered helmet, just some minor scrapes.
As for me I knew it was going to be a hard day. This was me yesterday dethatching the lawn, yeah I know. Anyway, the dethatcher we rented was a bit more industrial in strength. For an hour I was drug around our yard by what felt more like a rolling jackhammer. My hands are still vibrating.By the end of the day I was tired from being worked over by a piece of lawn equipment followed by raking up all the dead grass and so sunburned that the thought of getting on my bike to open the legs up was the furthest thing from my mind.
The race started out fast and furious as expected. We were averaging a good 28-29mph for the first couple laps with breaks constantly trying to form and being chased down. About 6 laps into the 18 lap race I realized that no amount of drink was quenching my thirst as all I could do was spit cotton balls.
And no matter how much I tried, I just couldn't stay near the front. Everytime up the climb I would move up, only to end up at the back minutes later. 6 laps later I punched out. I knew it was coming too, we had crested the climb past the start finish and instead of moving up, I was still sucking hind tit near the back and the pack was strung out in one long single file line about 400m long. A surge came and I just couldn't respond. I was on Spencer's wheel when it happened and after the race he said he remembered looking down and he was pushing 400W going 33mph. Yeah, my top end is just not there yet. I can't say it was a relaxing end to a rest week.Anyway, I hope everyone that went down is ok. I'm going to try and stop by the hospital tomorrow to check on our rider as I'm sure he probably spent the night.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Mein Kampf
"As a cyclist you shouldn't think too much. If you worry about it at all you'll never make it. But if you're susceptible to it, then you start thinking. And that's not good" -Erik Zabel
I spent the week worrying about yesterday's race, enough so that I barely slept Friday night. It felt odd to be so nervous before a race. It seems like only a few weeks ago I was getting up every weekend to travel to a race, it's been 4 months already since the end of 'cross season. Since I didn't really sleep it made getting up easier. Gina didn't go since her sister was still staying with us so I didn't have to worry about getting her loaded into Special Sauce and on the road on time. I stopped to grab breakfast at Cafe Bagel and as was on my way to Mt. Joy plenty early.
I pulled into the parking lot and Wendy and Ramon pulled in soon after. Registration and the course were almost a mile away so we rode over to get signed in and found that the wind was more prevalent and the sun didn't seem to be shining as brightly. While we were there I saw the end of the Cat4/5 race, Nat looked to have another good day, he's a 4 right now and he should be upgrading soon so he will make a nice (and much needed) addition to the 3's. I also saw John (uber-light) verBryke drop from the masters field with an apparent broken seatpost. Turned out the carbon rail of his uber light all carbon saddle broke on the slightly rougher roads of the PA course. Lighter isn't better if it doesn't get you to end of the race.
We made our way back to the cars to start getting ready. I still felt run down from the week and the legs were a pair of boat anchors so the idea of not finishing this race quickly overwhelmed me. It didn't help there was a steep climb on this course that everyone was making out to be worse than the Kemmelberg. My plan was to sit in and just ride smart and finish the race. Overheating on the rollers, I decide to just ride around a bit and ran into E-town. There were alot of other familiar faces from the 'cross scene there as well, Hebe, Hessel and Bad Andy were all in attendance.
A last minute trip to the ol' Port-O-John provided me a backrow seat to the start of the race. To make matters worse, I must have been lined up behind a bunch of Cat4's because as soon as the race started, instead of pedaling and clipping in, these muppets stood there trying to get clipped while the front end of the race went up the road. Finally getting around them all I found myself sprinting the first 300m to catch back on to the pack, great start, can't wait for the rest of the race to develop. Still at the back of the pack I needed to move up, but with the yellow line rule and PA country roads with zero shoulder it was tough. Fortunately just before the Kemmelberg there was a fairly wide strech of road with about a foot of gravel covered shoulder. I used it to move up towards the front and prepared to be humbled. Atleast starting at the front on a tough climb you can afford to slip back and hope to not lose contact with the group before the summit. The first time up the climb I was immediately struck by how insignificant it really was, it will no longer be referred to as the Kemmelberg. That's what I get for listening to a bunch of flat landers who only ride around Davidsonville where the longest climb lasts 10 seconds, this one was not even a minute, more like a big bump really.
At the top of the climb we made a right turn onto a nice long, twisty 40mph downhill. The rest of the course was fast and rolling, a really nice course overall and probably one of my favorites of the PA races. My fitness must not as bad as I think it is, either that or everyone else is just as out of shape as me because on the third lap, I somehow ended up on the front leading the pack up the climb. Basically I was just trying to stay out of trouble as guys were blowing up themselves and their drivetrains left and right on the first two laps. I couldn't believe how many guys in a 3/4 race were riding cross-chained then downshifted to the 39T at the base of the climb and dropped their chains. Several unsuccessful breaks went off the front but with a lap and a half to go, an NCVC and an All American rider went of the front and it stuck. Satisfied with finishing rubber side down, I played it a bit safe on the sketchy run in to the sprint finish to finish at the front end of the pack.
It was a good start to the season, more mentally rewarding than anything. Except for the bout of severe GID I raced with which turned even worse on the ride home with stomach cramps so bad I almost had to pull off the road. Apparently my stomach isn't quite trained yet to take in gels during a race. Next weekend is the Carl Dolan Circuit race and I'm in the 1/2/3 field. This is a rest week so hopefully the engine will be fully charged because there's going to be some legs ripped off in that race.
I spent the week worrying about yesterday's race, enough so that I barely slept Friday night. It felt odd to be so nervous before a race. It seems like only a few weeks ago I was getting up every weekend to travel to a race, it's been 4 months already since the end of 'cross season. Since I didn't really sleep it made getting up easier. Gina didn't go since her sister was still staying with us so I didn't have to worry about getting her loaded into Special Sauce and on the road on time. I stopped to grab breakfast at Cafe Bagel and as was on my way to Mt. Joy plenty early.
I pulled into the parking lot and Wendy and Ramon pulled in soon after. Registration and the course were almost a mile away so we rode over to get signed in and found that the wind was more prevalent and the sun didn't seem to be shining as brightly. While we were there I saw the end of the Cat4/5 race, Nat looked to have another good day, he's a 4 right now and he should be upgrading soon so he will make a nice (and much needed) addition to the 3's. I also saw John (uber-light) verBryke drop from the masters field with an apparent broken seatpost. Turned out the carbon rail of his uber light all carbon saddle broke on the slightly rougher roads of the PA course. Lighter isn't better if it doesn't get you to end of the race.
We made our way back to the cars to start getting ready. I still felt run down from the week and the legs were a pair of boat anchors so the idea of not finishing this race quickly overwhelmed me. It didn't help there was a steep climb on this course that everyone was making out to be worse than the Kemmelberg. My plan was to sit in and just ride smart and finish the race. Overheating on the rollers, I decide to just ride around a bit and ran into E-town. There were alot of other familiar faces from the 'cross scene there as well, Hebe, Hessel and Bad Andy were all in attendance.
A last minute trip to the ol' Port-O-John provided me a backrow seat to the start of the race. To make matters worse, I must have been lined up behind a bunch of Cat4's because as soon as the race started, instead of pedaling and clipping in, these muppets stood there trying to get clipped while the front end of the race went up the road. Finally getting around them all I found myself sprinting the first 300m to catch back on to the pack, great start, can't wait for the rest of the race to develop. Still at the back of the pack I needed to move up, but with the yellow line rule and PA country roads with zero shoulder it was tough. Fortunately just before the Kemmelberg there was a fairly wide strech of road with about a foot of gravel covered shoulder. I used it to move up towards the front and prepared to be humbled. Atleast starting at the front on a tough climb you can afford to slip back and hope to not lose contact with the group before the summit. The first time up the climb I was immediately struck by how insignificant it really was, it will no longer be referred to as the Kemmelberg. That's what I get for listening to a bunch of flat landers who only ride around Davidsonville where the longest climb lasts 10 seconds, this one was not even a minute, more like a big bump really.At the top of the climb we made a right turn onto a nice long, twisty 40mph downhill. The rest of the course was fast and rolling, a really nice course overall and probably one of my favorites of the PA races. My fitness must not as bad as I think it is, either that or everyone else is just as out of shape as me because on the third lap, I somehow ended up on the front leading the pack up the climb. Basically I was just trying to stay out of trouble as guys were blowing up themselves and their drivetrains left and right on the first two laps. I couldn't believe how many guys in a 3/4 race were riding cross-chained then downshifted to the 39T at the base of the climb and dropped their chains. Several unsuccessful breaks went off the front but with a lap and a half to go, an NCVC and an All American rider went of the front and it stuck. Satisfied with finishing rubber side down, I played it a bit safe on the sketchy run in to the sprint finish to finish at the front end of the pack.
It was a good start to the season, more mentally rewarding than anything. Except for the bout of severe GID I raced with which turned even worse on the ride home with stomach cramps so bad I almost had to pull off the road. Apparently my stomach isn't quite trained yet to take in gels during a race. Next weekend is the Carl Dolan Circuit race and I'm in the 1/2/3 field. This is a rest week so hopefully the engine will be fully charged because there's going to be some legs ripped off in that race.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Fear and Loathing in April
I'm just going to start this off by saying this is bullshit, the weather specifically. At the end of summer I long for the cooler days where the highs are in the 50's, the air is crisp and I know 'cross season is just around the corner. But come on, it's April! One day it's 80 and then in the 40's and 50's for days on end.
Tomorrow is my first race of the season up in good ol' PA. Most people I know and will be racing against tomorrow already have a couple races in their legs. The only thing in my legs are lactic acid and chocolate covered blueberries from Trader Joe's. I put off the start to my road season for several reasons, first of which was after last year's dismal start due to less than optimal fitness, I was left suffering the rest of the season never really finding that afore mentioned fitness. Secondly, I started racing last year in mid-March at the most poorly organized race where my warm-up consisted of standing in a line 150 people deep at 7:30 in the morning in sub-freezing temps waiting to get signed in. Then running to get my shit together and to the start line, where my race was promptly over a lap and a half later. That day pretty much set the tone for the rest of my season and I swore it wouldn't again happen this year.
So why do I find myself more nervous the night before a race than I have been in probably more than 10 years? Because tomorrow isn't shaping up weather wise to be any better than a year and 1 month ago and the race is organized by the same promoter, that's why. Deja Vu? My fitness has already been a roller coaster ride, my Training Stress Balance score in CyclingPeaks has been negative since March 27th and I almost passed out on the rollers last night trying to do some threshold intervals. The power was there but the heartrate told me I was sprinting up the Manayunk wall, something wasn't jiving and it wasn't simply cardiac drift.
On the bright side, today is the day Gina and I met, well not officially the day, we met in July, but it was Friday the 13th. Who says everything bad happens on Friday the 13th?
Things are changing here as well, the next few months should be interesting.
Tomorrow is my first race of the season up in good ol' PA. Most people I know and will be racing against tomorrow already have a couple races in their legs. The only thing in my legs are lactic acid and chocolate covered blueberries from Trader Joe's. I put off the start to my road season for several reasons, first of which was after last year's dismal start due to less than optimal fitness, I was left suffering the rest of the season never really finding that afore mentioned fitness. Secondly, I started racing last year in mid-March at the most poorly organized race where my warm-up consisted of standing in a line 150 people deep at 7:30 in the morning in sub-freezing temps waiting to get signed in. Then running to get my shit together and to the start line, where my race was promptly over a lap and a half later. That day pretty much set the tone for the rest of my season and I swore it wouldn't again happen this year.
So why do I find myself more nervous the night before a race than I have been in probably more than 10 years? Because tomorrow isn't shaping up weather wise to be any better than a year and 1 month ago and the race is organized by the same promoter, that's why. Deja Vu? My fitness has already been a roller coaster ride, my Training Stress Balance score in CyclingPeaks has been negative since March 27th and I almost passed out on the rollers last night trying to do some threshold intervals. The power was there but the heartrate told me I was sprinting up the Manayunk wall, something wasn't jiving and it wasn't simply cardiac drift.
On the bright side, today is the day Gina and I met, well not officially the day, we met in July, but it was Friday the 13th. Who says everything bad happens on Friday the 13th?
Things are changing here as well, the next few months should be interesting.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Proverb of the Month
Those who drink beer sleep well,
Those who sleep well never sin,
Those who never sin go to Heaven,
Drink more beer,
Amen.
Those who sleep well never sin,
Those who never sin go to Heaven,
Drink more beer,
Amen.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Movie of the Month
If you've never watched Hell on Wheels, you need to, if you don't own it, go buy it. There are very few cycling movies and documentaries that capture the sport like this one does. I break it out when I need motivation, to know I can work harder and can suffer a little bit more. Maybe it's just the harsh German language.Don't try to watch while doing intervals on the rollers, it's in German and French so all sub-titles.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
If It Ain't Broken...
Find a longer, steeper hill. More on that later.
Last week I got an email forwarded from our webadmin, it was someone in search of me. Somehow they managed to track me down, either through luck or searching the team rosters. It turned out to be an old college buddy I hadn't seen in almost 3 years. His email was quite funny, he told me how he dropped 30lbs and was into cycling and was preparing for his first race, the Carl Dolan crit later this month and was looking for someone to help him prepare. I'm no coach, and can't offer anyone anything but useless anecdotal advice, but I liked his attitude. He told me victory to him wasn't winning the race, but finishing in the pack. I could work with that. We rode together Thursday evening so I could get a sense of his fitness level, full time job and a family I wasn't expecting much but he impressed me, good endurance and really good form for a relatively new cyclist. What he was lacking though was a bit of intensity, especially speed changes. So I put together a little plan for him to help get some intensity into his riding so his body didn't go into a complete state of shock in the race. His plan wasn't suppose to start until Tuesday, I told him to do whatever he usually does for the weekend then recover on Monday and we would start on Tuesday with some Vo2 intervals. Being that he only has a heartrate monitor and his knowledge of HR and RPE, I estimated his threshold HR and provided his intervals based on the percentage of that threshold HR. As I was doing my own workout Sunday, I was thinking to myself that I may not have been clear on what the percentages were, 100% is of threshold HR not 100% is max HR, he would figure that out right? The intervals were only prescribed at about 105%, so not too much over his TH, maybe not even enough for real anaerobic Vo2 efforts.
When I got home from my ride, I had an email from him in my inbox. Apparently he was a bit eager to get started so he decided to go out Sunday and take a shot at the Vo2 intervals. It must have been intuition because this is what he wrote:
"i assume you knew i'd puke after several of these, but it slipped your mind to include that in the prior email! i set out towards the biggest hill i can find (> 10% grade for 1/2 mile)... it broke my legs...so the first interval i charge up the hill and think this is good...by the 4th i feel my drink creeping up my throat and lost it..."
I felt bad and clarified for him how to use the percentages, he responded:
"ugh...miscommunication. i thought you meant 100% of my max. i pegged my hr. the effort felt more intense than my readings"
Oh, well, it's all a constant learning experience. He's enjoying it and I think he can do alot better than just finishing in the pack. Unfortunately he's a Cat5 so the hardest part of the race will be not being taken down by a muppet and learning to safely navigate surfing the pack.
As for me I'm finally coming off an extended base period. I don't believe in LSD rides and living around Howard county, there's no way to do them anyway so I have some intensity in my legs but nothing structured. My first race is in two weeks, Mt. Joy up around Lancaster. There's always something brutally hard about racing in PA. The roads are rough and the PA guys who ride around there are always hammering it these steep, stair-step climbs. So I decided it was time for a little leg breaking of my own. Ellicott City has some great climbs up from the river that are steep and twisty, makes the suffering a little more tolerable. While I love training with a power meter, I've found that trying to use it for structured anaerobic intervals leaves a gap in my fitness when compared to going out and just punching it like I would have to in a race. Like the old saying, practice how you play, well, train like you race. When was the last time an effort lasted exactly 2 minutes at and your power and cadence stayed in a specific zone? So taking my own advice for my buddy I went out and trained like I expected to have to race. Ilchester Rd. is this ball buster climb, it starts out at 18% for the first 200m then eases up a bit before kicking up to around 10%. Overall the climb is only a 1/4mi. but feels like a mile. After about 5 of these I was done. Enough so that the 3 mile ride home might as well have been straight up. I'll be looking forward to those 20min threshold intervals after today.
Last week I got an email forwarded from our webadmin, it was someone in search of me. Somehow they managed to track me down, either through luck or searching the team rosters. It turned out to be an old college buddy I hadn't seen in almost 3 years. His email was quite funny, he told me how he dropped 30lbs and was into cycling and was preparing for his first race, the Carl Dolan crit later this month and was looking for someone to help him prepare. I'm no coach, and can't offer anyone anything but useless anecdotal advice, but I liked his attitude. He told me victory to him wasn't winning the race, but finishing in the pack. I could work with that. We rode together Thursday evening so I could get a sense of his fitness level, full time job and a family I wasn't expecting much but he impressed me, good endurance and really good form for a relatively new cyclist. What he was lacking though was a bit of intensity, especially speed changes. So I put together a little plan for him to help get some intensity into his riding so his body didn't go into a complete state of shock in the race. His plan wasn't suppose to start until Tuesday, I told him to do whatever he usually does for the weekend then recover on Monday and we would start on Tuesday with some Vo2 intervals. Being that he only has a heartrate monitor and his knowledge of HR and RPE, I estimated his threshold HR and provided his intervals based on the percentage of that threshold HR. As I was doing my own workout Sunday, I was thinking to myself that I may not have been clear on what the percentages were, 100% is of threshold HR not 100% is max HR, he would figure that out right? The intervals were only prescribed at about 105%, so not too much over his TH, maybe not even enough for real anaerobic Vo2 efforts.
When I got home from my ride, I had an email from him in my inbox. Apparently he was a bit eager to get started so he decided to go out Sunday and take a shot at the Vo2 intervals. It must have been intuition because this is what he wrote:
"i assume you knew i'd puke after several of these, but it slipped your mind to include that in the prior email! i set out towards the biggest hill i can find (> 10% grade for 1/2 mile)... it broke my legs...so the first interval i charge up the hill and think this is good...by the 4th i feel my drink creeping up my throat and lost it..."
I felt bad and clarified for him how to use the percentages, he responded:
"ugh...miscommunication. i thought you meant 100% of my max. i pegged my hr. the effort felt more intense than my readings"
Oh, well, it's all a constant learning experience. He's enjoying it and I think he can do alot better than just finishing in the pack. Unfortunately he's a Cat5 so the hardest part of the race will be not being taken down by a muppet and learning to safely navigate surfing the pack.
As for me I'm finally coming off an extended base period. I don't believe in LSD rides and living around Howard county, there's no way to do them anyway so I have some intensity in my legs but nothing structured. My first race is in two weeks, Mt. Joy up around Lancaster. There's always something brutally hard about racing in PA. The roads are rough and the PA guys who ride around there are always hammering it these steep, stair-step climbs. So I decided it was time for a little leg breaking of my own. Ellicott City has some great climbs up from the river that are steep and twisty, makes the suffering a little more tolerable. While I love training with a power meter, I've found that trying to use it for structured anaerobic intervals leaves a gap in my fitness when compared to going out and just punching it like I would have to in a race. Like the old saying, practice how you play, well, train like you race. When was the last time an effort lasted exactly 2 minutes at and your power and cadence stayed in a specific zone? So taking my own advice for my buddy I went out and trained like I expected to have to race. Ilchester Rd. is this ball buster climb, it starts out at 18% for the first 200m then eases up a bit before kicking up to around 10%. Overall the climb is only a 1/4mi. but feels like a mile. After about 5 of these I was done. Enough so that the 3 mile ride home might as well have been straight up. I'll be looking forward to those 20min threshold intervals after today.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Mud Dog
The past week or so has been nothing but on and off rain and back and forth warm and cold weather. It really makes for some frustrating times trying to schedule training and balance the road with the trails. I was fortunate enough to get a ride in last Thursday at Patapsco, being sure to stay off of the horse farm loop as it is surely a swampy mess. The trails were either bone dry or a bit tacky, especially on the ridge slopes by the river.
With no chance of hitting the trails over the weekend, I broke out the fixie to get some good spinning work in. After riding around for a few hours on Sunday with Nystrom and Sean P, Gina and I took advantage of the beautiful day and took the dogs over to Patapsco for a hike. Boulder was more than ready, I told him earlier in the day he was getting a surprise and when we got in the car he knew it was something good.
It had rained the past three days so I was expecting the trails to be trashed. Some spots weren't too bad but what I was especially pissed about was the obvious trail widening going on because people were either trying to avoid wet spots or to inept to ride the section of trail so they felt they were entitled to making a new trail around those sections. It's so bad that what used to be tight single track 10-12 years ago is now an 8ft wide highway. Unfortunately this is a pervasive problem everywhere there is public access trail systems.
Boulder says "This is bullshit man, people shouldn't be riding through here, this mud is ankle deep."
After the walk, both Boulder and Riley were toast.
With no chance of hitting the trails over the weekend, I broke out the fixie to get some good spinning work in. After riding around for a few hours on Sunday with Nystrom and Sean P, Gina and I took advantage of the beautiful day and took the dogs over to Patapsco for a hike. Boulder was more than ready, I told him earlier in the day he was getting a surprise and when we got in the car he knew it was something good.
It had rained the past three days so I was expecting the trails to be trashed. Some spots weren't too bad but what I was especially pissed about was the obvious trail widening going on because people were either trying to avoid wet spots or to inept to ride the section of trail so they felt they were entitled to making a new trail around those sections. It's so bad that what used to be tight single track 10-12 years ago is now an 8ft wide highway. Unfortunately this is a pervasive problem everywhere there is public access trail systems.
Boulder says "This is bullshit man, people shouldn't be riding through here, this mud is ankle deep."After the walk, both Boulder and Riley were toast.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Dirty Girl Scouts
So it's that time of year again, the time when all of my planning and preparation goes out the window for one simple reason, Girl Scout cookies. I have to say that I can't remember crossing a cookie I didn't like. This is the joy of having 4 nieces, and every year we get the phone call to order cookies. Fortunately only one of them is in at a time, but that doesn't stop Gina from buying everything and I mean everything, we have them all, Samoas, Tagalongs, Thin Mints, Do-si-dos, you name it. And I love cookies, especially the Samoas.
Looks like extra time on the bike for me.
Looks like extra time on the bike for me.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Status Quo
Hmm, two weeks have gone by with no posts but for the most part things have been pretty uneventful around here. Riley is doing just fine, her tail has healed but she still has bandage to keep the scab from opening up since she manages to smack everything in sight with it.
Riding has been good, getting in alot of time on the bike after almost 3 weeks off with the sickness. Last week I made my way out to Poolesville to ride on BB's new home ground. We made our way out to the Poolesville RR course and rode the loop, even the mile and a 1/4 of gravel riddled with potholes. Riding indoors to avoid the cold and wind on the new E-motion rollers has been a pleasant change of pace from the rigidity of the trainer. It's almost like riding on the road.
Yesterday was Davidsonville, I probably would have skipped this for a solo ride around HC but the new kits are in so I had to go pick up the new duds and they look f'ing awesome, thanks to alot of hard work from Stearns who also found the time to get the new website up and running and looking kick ass as well. It's not quite ready for prime time but look for it in the next few weeks at www.abrtcycling.com
Today the Elite team got together for a training ride out in Virginia, I tagged along with Chris Larsen, Mike Stearns and BB to get in a long ride and gauge my own fitness to see if I'll be of any help to these guys this season. My legs still searing from yesterdays ride when we left from the WO&D trail head in Sterling and headed west to Leesburg. It's good to get out and bond with the guys you're going to race with, it's even better when everyone has the same goal in mind when out riding, especially long 4 hour rides in the blustery wind. We put in some hard efforts, but it wasn't a pissing contest. Apparently unbeknownst to BB and I there were about a 100 KOM and city sprints along the way, even the all to allusive "top of the random overpass" sprint finish.
About 2 hours into the ride we stopped at some little country store for some refreshments and ran into another group of cyclists out battling the wind. There's a saying "there's no such thing as a stupid question, just a stupid answer". Today I formally challenge that saying. I've always tried not to carry the stigma of a typical road cyclist with an elitist attitude and I'm too good to acknowledge you response while interacting with other random cyclists. But I bet today I broke that rule somewhat. I can be pretty sarcastic at times and so can Mike, and these guys got some of best. All four of us were donning our new kits, flying the same blue and green colors of Snow Valley but with a new title sponsor. The first question one guy asks is, "do you guys ride for a team?" "No, we just all happened to buy the same jersey off of ebay" was the general response. Not being very perceptive, the guy asks his second question, seeing that we were all riding with power meters he asks, "so, what kind of numbers are you putting out today?". You might as well ask us what the length of our schlongs are. We pretty much collectively ignored the question, although I quoted Mike from earlier in the ride when he said "I'm spending an uncomfortable amount of time above 300 watts". But it didn't stop there, obviously sizing us up sitting atop his uber-expensive carbon Look with his carbon FSA SRM power meter, he proceeds to ask what category we race. That got the most response, like "old, fat and slow", or the slowest class they allow me too". I think he got the point.
Unfortunately they took off in the same direction we were headed and of course after a few miles we caught up to them. At this point two things can happen, we can sit in on their group and probably not get our workout in hoping we split off somewhere, or we can pass them, at which point several of them will try and tag on and really try to measure us up. After riding behind them for a half mile or so we waited for a wide stretch of road where we could easily pass them without forming a paceline and looking like we were trying to act all Euro bad ass. Of course what happens, we cruise past them at a steady pace (read as non-inciting) trading hellos and hit the first of a series of long rollers which we had been riding at a somewhat hard pace all day. I pull off the front after the first one and realize atleast one of them had decided to come and play. After the third little climb we had shed the intruder, didn't even get a chance to let him come around for a pull before dropping him. Now at this point you're thinking, typical elitist asshole roadies. Well, not to say we weren't trying to pinch the guy since he obviously wouldn't have latched on if he wasn't trying to size us up, but really, what was he thinking? If we wanted to ride with you we wouldn't have passed you. We intentionally passed them not trying to spark a pissing contest so why jump on our wheels? Oh, well. Mike called it before we even rolled out of the store. Maybe he just liked the kits.
All in all a good ride, good times as well since I'd never ridden with Chris or Mike. I'm sitting here totally fried and wind burned but having enjoyed one of the hardest rides I've been on in a while.
Riding has been good, getting in alot of time on the bike after almost 3 weeks off with the sickness. Last week I made my way out to Poolesville to ride on BB's new home ground. We made our way out to the Poolesville RR course and rode the loop, even the mile and a 1/4 of gravel riddled with potholes. Riding indoors to avoid the cold and wind on the new E-motion rollers has been a pleasant change of pace from the rigidity of the trainer. It's almost like riding on the road.
Yesterday was Davidsonville, I probably would have skipped this for a solo ride around HC but the new kits are in so I had to go pick up the new duds and they look f'ing awesome, thanks to alot of hard work from Stearns who also found the time to get the new website up and running and looking kick ass as well. It's not quite ready for prime time but look for it in the next few weeks at www.abrtcycling.com
Today the Elite team got together for a training ride out in Virginia, I tagged along with Chris Larsen, Mike Stearns and BB to get in a long ride and gauge my own fitness to see if I'll be of any help to these guys this season. My legs still searing from yesterdays ride when we left from the WO&D trail head in Sterling and headed west to Leesburg. It's good to get out and bond with the guys you're going to race with, it's even better when everyone has the same goal in mind when out riding, especially long 4 hour rides in the blustery wind. We put in some hard efforts, but it wasn't a pissing contest. Apparently unbeknownst to BB and I there were about a 100 KOM and city sprints along the way, even the all to allusive "top of the random overpass" sprint finish.
About 2 hours into the ride we stopped at some little country store for some refreshments and ran into another group of cyclists out battling the wind. There's a saying "there's no such thing as a stupid question, just a stupid answer". Today I formally challenge that saying. I've always tried not to carry the stigma of a typical road cyclist with an elitist attitude and I'm too good to acknowledge you response while interacting with other random cyclists. But I bet today I broke that rule somewhat. I can be pretty sarcastic at times and so can Mike, and these guys got some of best. All four of us were donning our new kits, flying the same blue and green colors of Snow Valley but with a new title sponsor. The first question one guy asks is, "do you guys ride for a team?" "No, we just all happened to buy the same jersey off of ebay" was the general response. Not being very perceptive, the guy asks his second question, seeing that we were all riding with power meters he asks, "so, what kind of numbers are you putting out today?". You might as well ask us what the length of our schlongs are. We pretty much collectively ignored the question, although I quoted Mike from earlier in the ride when he said "I'm spending an uncomfortable amount of time above 300 watts". But it didn't stop there, obviously sizing us up sitting atop his uber-expensive carbon Look with his carbon FSA SRM power meter, he proceeds to ask what category we race. That got the most response, like "old, fat and slow", or the slowest class they allow me too". I think he got the point.
Unfortunately they took off in the same direction we were headed and of course after a few miles we caught up to them. At this point two things can happen, we can sit in on their group and probably not get our workout in hoping we split off somewhere, or we can pass them, at which point several of them will try and tag on and really try to measure us up. After riding behind them for a half mile or so we waited for a wide stretch of road where we could easily pass them without forming a paceline and looking like we were trying to act all Euro bad ass. Of course what happens, we cruise past them at a steady pace (read as non-inciting) trading hellos and hit the first of a series of long rollers which we had been riding at a somewhat hard pace all day. I pull off the front after the first one and realize atleast one of them had decided to come and play. After the third little climb we had shed the intruder, didn't even get a chance to let him come around for a pull before dropping him. Now at this point you're thinking, typical elitist asshole roadies. Well, not to say we weren't trying to pinch the guy since he obviously wouldn't have latched on if he wasn't trying to size us up, but really, what was he thinking? If we wanted to ride with you we wouldn't have passed you. We intentionally passed them not trying to spark a pissing contest so why jump on our wheels? Oh, well. Mike called it before we even rolled out of the store. Maybe he just liked the kits.
All in all a good ride, good times as well since I'd never ridden with Chris or Mike. I'm sitting here totally fried and wind burned but having enjoyed one of the hardest rides I've been on in a while.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Call Me Shorty
So yesterday evening started out like any other evening. Around 4:30-5, the dogs begin acting goofy as their blood sugar drops and they realize it's feeding time. Usually Riley is the first to eat, it take me longer to scoop the food into her bowl than it does for her to eat it. After Boulder eats they both go outside to take care of business.
Here's where the evening went totally downhill. As the dogs scamper out the garage door I close it behind them, usually only with enough force so it shuts but doesn't latch. That way when they want to come in they can just push the door open and hang out in the garage until I get to them. As I closed the door, I thought both dogs were out. Well, apparently unknowing to both myself and Riley, the tip of her tail got caught in the door as it closed. She didn't yelp, or cry, just went on out about her business. When I went to let Boulder in, Riley was no where to be found, it was dark so I figured she was still milling around the yard somewhere. Then I go up to the kitchen where I see her sitting outside the door to the deck. I figure something must be wrong because she never climbs the stairs to the deck. As I look down, I can see blood in the snow. I let her into the garage not realizing the extent of the damage, tail wagging spraying blood everywhere, including all over me. The garage now looks like the opening sceenes from an episode of CSI.
I took one look at her tail and knew it was bad, it took the tip, which is nothing more than skin and hair, almost completely off and the bone was sticking out. I left her there to go find bandages and guaze. After searching the house all I could come up with were some gauze pads so I wrapped her tail in them and finished it off with some packing tape. McGyver would have been proud.
Gina got home and we loaded her up in Special Sauce and headed out to the vet. Let me tell you, DO NOT get your dogs tail caught in a door, it's not cheap. They patched her up and gave her some drugs but she went back this morning to have the tip of her tail removed.
Riley says these drugs are awesome.
Here's where the evening went totally downhill. As the dogs scamper out the garage door I close it behind them, usually only with enough force so it shuts but doesn't latch. That way when they want to come in they can just push the door open and hang out in the garage until I get to them. As I closed the door, I thought both dogs were out. Well, apparently unknowing to both myself and Riley, the tip of her tail got caught in the door as it closed. She didn't yelp, or cry, just went on out about her business. When I went to let Boulder in, Riley was no where to be found, it was dark so I figured she was still milling around the yard somewhere. Then I go up to the kitchen where I see her sitting outside the door to the deck. I figure something must be wrong because she never climbs the stairs to the deck. As I look down, I can see blood in the snow. I let her into the garage not realizing the extent of the damage, tail wagging spraying blood everywhere, including all over me. The garage now looks like the opening sceenes from an episode of CSI.
I took one look at her tail and knew it was bad, it took the tip, which is nothing more than skin and hair, almost completely off and the bone was sticking out. I left her there to go find bandages and guaze. After searching the house all I could come up with were some gauze pads so I wrapped her tail in them and finished it off with some packing tape. McGyver would have been proud.
Gina got home and we loaded her up in Special Sauce and headed out to the vet. Let me tell you, DO NOT get your dogs tail caught in a door, it's not cheap. They patched her up and gave her some drugs but she went back this morning to have the tip of her tail removed.Riley says these drugs are awesome.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Just One Fix
So it's been a week since I caught the cold from hell. This one seemed benign until Friday night when my head filled up and the splitting headache from sinus pressure began. This headache lasted until Sunday night, subsiding only after sleeping all day and after consuming a pharmacy's worth of off the shelf drugs that couldn't make a dent in it. Sleeping wasn't really a choice as by Sunday morning the pain was so bad I couldn't keep my eyes open for more than 2 minutes. It's amazing though how your body takes advantage of sleep to repair itself.
Now I'm left in a haze, food and drink doesn't taste the same and I feel like I'm the only one left to clean up the house the morning after a hard night of partying. The good news is I'm 2lbs closer to my target racing weight, bad news is by body feels so atrophied I can barely walk up the stairs without feeling the burn let alone think about when I might ride again.
I did get a notification my new E-motion rollers have shipped. I'm excited to start using rollers instead of a trainer, I've always been scared to use them as I can defintely have a lack of concentration when on the trainer, but these look pretty error proof.
Now I'm left in a haze, food and drink doesn't taste the same and I feel like I'm the only one left to clean up the house the morning after a hard night of partying. The good news is I'm 2lbs closer to my target racing weight, bad news is by body feels so atrophied I can barely walk up the stairs without feeling the burn let alone think about when I might ride again.
I did get a notification my new E-motion rollers have shipped. I'm excited to start using rollers instead of a trainer, I've always been scared to use them as I can defintely have a lack of concentration when on the trainer, but these look pretty error proof.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
V-Days Bust
So for Valentine's Day Gina gave me the flu, or at least one heck of a cold.
Thank you honey, I'll cherish this forever.
Fortunately my immune system must be in full effect because it hasn't really taken me down as bad as expected. Gina has been dealing with it since Monday. I woke up this morning feeling like my head was underwater and had spent the night doing Jager shots.
I managed to sleep for the better part of the afternoon and my pounding headache is gone for the most part. Sitting here starring at the computer screen doesn't help it. I guess it was as good a time as any to catch something since riding outside isn't looking so good with all of the ice and I haven't been motivated to ride the trainer.
Maybe to make it feel somewhat like Valentine's Day we'll watch some a chick flick.
Today's weather makes me think about the Valantine's Day a few years ago, 2003 I think, when Gina and I were still dating and I took her to NYC. We stayed in Manhattan and had a nice dinner at the Sea Grille at Rockefeller Center. It's a cool resstaurant that's at ground level with the ice skating rink so you can watch the people skate while you eat. I'll always remember that year because we almost got stuck there in a blizzard. It hadn't snowed all year and next thing you know it's calling for 2 feet of snow or something crazy. We managed to catch the last train out of NYC because the snow was even closing down sections of the tracks. We made it back to BWI just as the police announced major road closures like Rt. 95 and 195. If it weren't for Special Sauce we wouldn't have made it home from the train station that day. Today Gina told me she thought I was going to propose to her that night. She only had to wait another 5 months.
Thank you honey, I'll cherish this forever.
Fortunately my immune system must be in full effect because it hasn't really taken me down as bad as expected. Gina has been dealing with it since Monday. I woke up this morning feeling like my head was underwater and had spent the night doing Jager shots.
I managed to sleep for the better part of the afternoon and my pounding headache is gone for the most part. Sitting here starring at the computer screen doesn't help it. I guess it was as good a time as any to catch something since riding outside isn't looking so good with all of the ice and I haven't been motivated to ride the trainer.
Maybe to make it feel somewhat like Valentine's Day we'll watch some a chick flick.
Today's weather makes me think about the Valantine's Day a few years ago, 2003 I think, when Gina and I were still dating and I took her to NYC. We stayed in Manhattan and had a nice dinner at the Sea Grille at Rockefeller Center. It's a cool resstaurant that's at ground level with the ice skating rink so you can watch the people skate while you eat. I'll always remember that year because we almost got stuck there in a blizzard. It hadn't snowed all year and next thing you know it's calling for 2 feet of snow or something crazy. We managed to catch the last train out of NYC because the snow was even closing down sections of the tracks. We made it back to BWI just as the police announced major road closures like Rt. 95 and 195. If it weren't for Special Sauce we wouldn't have made it home from the train station that day. Today Gina told me she thought I was going to propose to her that night. She only had to wait another 5 months.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Monster Rides and Bad Food
So far in the early part of the season I've been very diligent in allowing my body to rest. It's still early February and I see people out on the group rides just trying to crush it like it's mid-June and they're peaking for road Nationals or something. I learned my lesson all to well last season after not building back up from the 'cross season and having a miserable year on the road. The funny part is, usually by the end of May all of the winter hero riders are gone frm the racing scene, not to be seen again until next March and a new crop of riders emerge and are just riding everyone into the ground. That's my plan, but it doesn't mean I'm going to sit around and do 4hr LSD rides either, that's all BS, when was the last time you raced aerobically anyway? Variation is key.
So Saturday a group of six of us made our way out to Fredneck for a nice day of climbing, Steve O. (a.k.a Nick Danger), Mid-Coast Tom, Yellow Bike Mike, Nat, The New Larry and myself met up at Myersville Elementary school to tackle my new route, the Monument Loop. This ride was to incorporate the climbs up to several monuments dedicated to the Civil War. When I pulled into the school I noticed the wind was a bit stronger than called for, probably a good 15-20mph and the temperature was in the teens. As we made final preparations and decended the first small hill, I realized how cold it actually was. The ride out to the first climb is a nice scenic stroll in the shade along the river where the air temp was a good 5-10* lower that the parking lot. Within the first few minutes of the ride I couldn't feel any fingers past the first knuckle and no matter how hard I banged them against the handlebars I just couldn't get the feeling back. That actually had me worried for a second. But then we started up the first climb and the blood started to flow again and life was good.
We got to the top of the mountain into Gambrill St. Park and made our way across the top to find a road that would drop us down the opposite side, with the plan of riding back up the same mountain again just from the other direction. Unfortuately both my memory and my map program failed me. We were in the Watershed area and there are 2 kinds of roads, somewhat paved and gravel. The road we needed to take was the later and worse yet, still covered with snow. Maybe on my mountain bike, but no way with the road bikes. So a quick route change had us blasting down the road we were suppose to climb up, another roughly paved, single lane road with endless blind turns and boulders for guard rails to the left and a shear drop off to the right. No room for error. I still think everyone was happier decending rather than climbing this beast. Unfortunately the route change forced us to ride into a constant headwind for the next 45 minutes.
During that time I spent alot of time pacing New Larry back to the group. The guy was only out for his 4th ride of the season and is preparing for a half Iron Man out in Cali. I asked him why he picked this ride to train on, wasn't his Iron Man a flat race? Nope, he said, the course will have over 5,400ft of climbing and when he saw the route profile for today, he needed to know what that much climbing felt like. I can respect that. But there's nothing worse than getting dropped from a group and riding 200m off the back while in an area unfamiliar to you. So I'd drop back and coach him and give him motivation, at times he would get a burst of energy and gap me leaving me to chase back up to him. By the time we made our way over to Gathland he told me he was cramping and to just point him in the direction of the cars. Bullshit I told him, you can finish the ride, just one more climb and we're headed home. I must have inspired him because he shot up the climb to Gathland like it was the start of a ride. I think Larry will do fine in his half Iron Man.
Sorry for the boring, pictureless post, I rode around for 4 hours with my camera in my pocket and forgot I even brought it.
I took the opportunity while I was out there to go visit my parents and grandfather and have dinner with them. We had a nice big beef pot pie (you just have to say it like Cartman). Unfotunately I couldn't stay since Gina was away and the dogs were cooped up inside all day. So I got home, played with the dogs, ate and passed out by 9:30.
Sunday was pretty uneventful, I decided to take a rest day after trying to comprehend my power profile from the day before. The numbers were just unreal. So Boulder and I cruised over to Avalon to hike the trails. When I got there I wish I'd gone to ride. The trails were frozen solid and just look super fast. Gina got home from visting her sister and I decided I didn't feel like cooking so we ordered up some Carrabbas. This is usually our safe meal when we eat out, it's always good and they have car side pick up which rocks, except for the fact that the Outback next to it does a hell of a lot more pick up business and the shared entrance to get to either of them was jammed with people waiting to get to Outback, the parking lot was a cluster F. After finally navigating around the Outback through their parking lot I got to Carrabbas and picked up our food and slipped out the back entrance. My trusty meal there is the Tagliarini Picchi Paccchui, bacically their fancy name for spaghetti with a crushed tomato, basil and olive oil sauce.
When I dove into my meal I was immediately disappointed, the pasta which I think is made fresh tasted all doughy and was under cooked. I couldn't even finish it, that never happens. Then last night either I couldn't sleep or was stuck in this restless sleep where I kept having the same dream over again. It may sound wierd but I always know when I'm going to get sick because of how I sleep, and this was it. I managed to get up and eat some muslei for breakfast but my stomach was not happy. Then Gina called me around lunch and said she didn't feel well either. I'm pretty sure it was the food. The more I see 20/20 and Dateline reports about the food industry the less I want to eat out anyway. I expect this shit from fast food, but I guess people are people and if some comes to work sick or doesn't wash their hands, you my friend are in for a gastrointestinal treat compliments of them. Worse part is this isn't the first time she's gotten sick after we've eaten out over the past month and a half, I think it's a sign to stop eating out and save our money for something important, like the new furnace we need to put in the house. Now that's going to be a tough check to write.
So Saturday a group of six of us made our way out to Fredneck for a nice day of climbing, Steve O. (a.k.a Nick Danger), Mid-Coast Tom, Yellow Bike Mike, Nat, The New Larry and myself met up at Myersville Elementary school to tackle my new route, the Monument Loop. This ride was to incorporate the climbs up to several monuments dedicated to the Civil War. When I pulled into the school I noticed the wind was a bit stronger than called for, probably a good 15-20mph and the temperature was in the teens. As we made final preparations and decended the first small hill, I realized how cold it actually was. The ride out to the first climb is a nice scenic stroll in the shade along the river where the air temp was a good 5-10* lower that the parking lot. Within the first few minutes of the ride I couldn't feel any fingers past the first knuckle and no matter how hard I banged them against the handlebars I just couldn't get the feeling back. That actually had me worried for a second. But then we started up the first climb and the blood started to flow again and life was good.
We got to the top of the mountain into Gambrill St. Park and made our way across the top to find a road that would drop us down the opposite side, with the plan of riding back up the same mountain again just from the other direction. Unfortuately both my memory and my map program failed me. We were in the Watershed area and there are 2 kinds of roads, somewhat paved and gravel. The road we needed to take was the later and worse yet, still covered with snow. Maybe on my mountain bike, but no way with the road bikes. So a quick route change had us blasting down the road we were suppose to climb up, another roughly paved, single lane road with endless blind turns and boulders for guard rails to the left and a shear drop off to the right. No room for error. I still think everyone was happier decending rather than climbing this beast. Unfortunately the route change forced us to ride into a constant headwind for the next 45 minutes.
During that time I spent alot of time pacing New Larry back to the group. The guy was only out for his 4th ride of the season and is preparing for a half Iron Man out in Cali. I asked him why he picked this ride to train on, wasn't his Iron Man a flat race? Nope, he said, the course will have over 5,400ft of climbing and when he saw the route profile for today, he needed to know what that much climbing felt like. I can respect that. But there's nothing worse than getting dropped from a group and riding 200m off the back while in an area unfamiliar to you. So I'd drop back and coach him and give him motivation, at times he would get a burst of energy and gap me leaving me to chase back up to him. By the time we made our way over to Gathland he told me he was cramping and to just point him in the direction of the cars. Bullshit I told him, you can finish the ride, just one more climb and we're headed home. I must have inspired him because he shot up the climb to Gathland like it was the start of a ride. I think Larry will do fine in his half Iron Man.
Sorry for the boring, pictureless post, I rode around for 4 hours with my camera in my pocket and forgot I even brought it.
I took the opportunity while I was out there to go visit my parents and grandfather and have dinner with them. We had a nice big beef pot pie (you just have to say it like Cartman). Unfotunately I couldn't stay since Gina was away and the dogs were cooped up inside all day. So I got home, played with the dogs, ate and passed out by 9:30.
Sunday was pretty uneventful, I decided to take a rest day after trying to comprehend my power profile from the day before. The numbers were just unreal. So Boulder and I cruised over to Avalon to hike the trails. When I got there I wish I'd gone to ride. The trails were frozen solid and just look super fast. Gina got home from visting her sister and I decided I didn't feel like cooking so we ordered up some Carrabbas. This is usually our safe meal when we eat out, it's always good and they have car side pick up which rocks, except for the fact that the Outback next to it does a hell of a lot more pick up business and the shared entrance to get to either of them was jammed with people waiting to get to Outback, the parking lot was a cluster F. After finally navigating around the Outback through their parking lot I got to Carrabbas and picked up our food and slipped out the back entrance. My trusty meal there is the Tagliarini Picchi Paccchui, bacically their fancy name for spaghetti with a crushed tomato, basil and olive oil sauce.
When I dove into my meal I was immediately disappointed, the pasta which I think is made fresh tasted all doughy and was under cooked. I couldn't even finish it, that never happens. Then last night either I couldn't sleep or was stuck in this restless sleep where I kept having the same dream over again. It may sound wierd but I always know when I'm going to get sick because of how I sleep, and this was it. I managed to get up and eat some muslei for breakfast but my stomach was not happy. Then Gina called me around lunch and said she didn't feel well either. I'm pretty sure it was the food. The more I see 20/20 and Dateline reports about the food industry the less I want to eat out anyway. I expect this shit from fast food, but I guess people are people and if some comes to work sick or doesn't wash their hands, you my friend are in for a gastrointestinal treat compliments of them. Worse part is this isn't the first time she's gotten sick after we've eaten out over the past month and a half, I think it's a sign to stop eating out and save our money for something important, like the new furnace we need to put in the house. Now that's going to be a tough check to write.
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