The Day After...

Early yesterday morning, I woke up with my legs feeling all kinds of ache from Monday's long, hot, slog through the late spring humidity of Birmingham, and decided that I would forego the Tuesday night Pain Train.

At some point during the day however, my legs started to feel less pain, and I thought it might be a good idea to test them out by changing my mind. So I went home, climbed on my bike and rode like crazy to get to the start in time to join the folks who, I learned later, knowing that they had TNPT coming, had the good sense to stay inside their air conditioned homes (and trailers...this is the south) on Monday Or in the case of a few, if they ventured out, only spent a couple of hours in the saddle (instead of 4:40).

As you can imagine this makes the score;

Smart People: 1
Stupid Person (Me): 0

before we even left the parking lot. Sure as a cowpoke chases a chuckwagon, as soon as the first hill (a small one, mind you) came along, my legs had a quick meeting and decided to stage a coup d' etat. I decided that the best way to quell the rebellion was to assure them that the pain would be temporary, so I hurried to the front of the pack as quickly as I could go, and promptly slowed the pace down to a reasonably less punishing tempo. Unfortunately, this could only last as long as I could bluff the group into thinking that I had their best interests at heart, but I managed admirably for a couple of miles. Finally I was unceremoniously booted from the head of the peleton by means of the peleton winding it up and spitting me out the back like a chewed sunflower seed husk.

So I meandered my way up to Old Leeds Road and went home, via Smyer and Shades Crest. Still, a small victory could be found in the very act of getting mounted up and trying to ride...a year ago I would have taken week off to recover from Monday's ride.

That reminds me of my favorite story about the Beast, but I'll have to save it for another day.

Where's that cool weather?

6:00 this morning, Jeff Mills, (aka "the Beast") and I mounted up and headed out. We decided to go east, out to Winnetaska, then Vandiver and back. It started out okay, I'm still getting used to the Tarmac (3rd ride on it, by far the longest), and I'm feeling a little scrunched up on the bike, compared to the La-Z-Boy position I enjoyed for 6 years on my Trek, nice and stretched out. So I've got muscles hurting that I've never really had a need to use before now. I'm sure that'll all work out as I make the finer adjustments to my position on the bike though.

The Winnetaska ride has 6300 feet of climbing in 80 miles, nearly all of that after mile 40 (which is nearly exactly what Cherohala does), though it rolls pretty hard for the first 40 as well. The major climbs (in Birmingham that means more than 1 mile long, and around 6-8%) are Vandiver South, Dunavant, Zeigler, Grants Mill, Belmont, and Smyer.

As we were nearing the top of Belmont, where it ends into Old Leeds road, we saw a couple of riders heading the direction we would be going. By the time we got to the top, they were a quarter mile ahead, but Jeff was intent on catching them, so off we went, 24, 25, 26 mph chasing as though our lives depended on it. When we did catch them, they said they knew we were coming and tried to hold us off, but couldn't do it. I was just happy that with 65 mile and several thousand feet of climbing in my legs, I was able to suck Jeff's wheel at those speeds.

So we finished strongly, but it was HOT. I mean, at 9:00 my computer said it was 92 degrees. I drank 5 full water bottles (24oz each) and still weighed 3 pounds less than when I started.

All in all, a good ride. Nothing profound to say, just had a good hard ride. I was happy with my effort and my results.

The Test

Tomorrow will be the big test prior to Cherohala. And I'm a little bit nervous. The Beast is in town for a friend's event and we'll be riding in the morning. We haven't decided yet whether we'll ride out to West Blocton, or east, out to Camp Winnetaska. Either way, there's loads of climbing in the 80 miles we'll cover. But surprisingly, it isn't the climbing that has me worried. It's the distance and the heat. A few weeks ago, I was complaining about how cold it was. Well, the climate is taking its revenge, and the temps are in the 90's now. Toss in the fact that my longest ride of the year thus far was 65 miles, and that was a month ago, and I'm afraid I'm going to be dying tomorrow.

On the other hand, I've got to get a long ride under my belt. Cherohala is 115 miles and 9-10K feet of climbing. I've been putting in large miles over the course of the weeks, but not very many long rides. Time just doesn't permit me to spend 5-6 hours every Saturday on my bicycle, as much as I'd love to.

Some of my friends in the club have trouble understanding how you can justify not riding a century every weekend, and 50 mile rides a couple times during the week. Of course, they don't have kids, or church responsibilities, or (in the case of a couple) jobs.

So, one way or the other, I'll be back tomorrow night (after I paint the living room, after my ride) and let y'all know how it went.

Climb Ev'ry Mountain

In this month's issue of Bicycling Magazine (yeah, yeah, I know) they had an article listing the favorite hometown rides of several American pros, Chris Horner, Levi Liephiemer, David Zabriskie, George Hincapie and Floyd Landis (I've ridden Horner's, Landis' and Zabriskie's favorites, I think that's cool). That got me to thinking, what is my favorite ride?

There's no easy answer. It depends largely on where I am, and what I feel like doing, but one thing all my favorite rides have in common is climbing. Not that I'm a great climber after 18 years of marriage, but it's hard to imagine a great ride without any climbing.

The Alpine Loop, with a trip up Squaw Peak is probably my all time favorite, but I live 1800 miles from there, so I get to ride it at most, once or twice every couple of years. The trip up Big Cottonwood Canyon to Guardsman Pass and back down is a lot of fun, and Floyd Landis' favorite, Palomar Mountain (in the San Diego area), is near the top of my list as well. Another thing these rides have in common is that the climbs are all twisty and turny. Lots of hairpins, and switchbacks to break up the monotony. That may be one reason why I like the Tail of the Dragon and the Cherohala Skyway so much.

In this area though, long climbs are rare. The longest around that is uninterrupted is the 3 mile climb to the top of Mt. Cheaha, 100 miles from my home. Most of our climbs are 1-2 miles in length, but are steeper than those out west, so they're not quite as much fun. Smyer twists and turns its way up Shades Mountain for nearly 2 miles, and is probably my favorite hill in Birmingham, just for the forested 1930's feel of the moss covered rock walls that line the road, and the trees overhanging the road to create a tunnel of shade the whole way up.

In short, the best rides usually have great climbs somewhere on the route. Cathy struggles to understand this philosophy, but hills are challenges, and there's satisfaction in getting over that challenge.

As much complaining as 90% of the people on bikes do about climbing hills, riding without hills would be boring. And we all know it.

This is my resolution to stop complaining when my ride partner says (after climbing to the top of the Alpine Loop, and descending) "hey, that was a lot of fun, let's do it again". And again, and again, and again...

Painful workouts = great workouts! Usually.

Another Tuesday, another night of excruciating pain! This week though, I felt my hard miles of the past 8 weeks come through for me, as I revved my HR up into the 182-183 range for the first time in a while. Several riders in the group did Mt. Mitchell on Saturday, but it didn't seem to slow them down at all tonight.

All told, 6 and a half minutes in zone 5c (fully anaerobic, max effort and HR), 11 minutes in 5b, 14 minutes in 5a, and 30 minutes at LTHR. All in all, it was a great workout. After putting in the base miles, it's easy to see why those easy miles are so important. A few weeks ago, I was gasping and wheezing to stay on over the top of the relatively easy John Rogers Drive, getting gapped in fact, but the HR wouldn't climb to match the effort. Tonight, it was a tough effort, but the HR went right up into the red zone and I still had power coming from the engine room. It was a good feeling.

For 2 months now, I've been laying the foundation, now I'm working on speed. I even decided to ride Lakeshore with the group (usually I turn off and go back a different way because Lakeshore=bedlam), sprinting from stoplight to stoplight, hitting 30-32 mph, then holding the wheel in front of you for all you're worth until the next light forces the pace down momentarily, then sprint like crazy to get the speed back up. It's not a lot of fun, but I felt like I needed to do it this week. Average speed at the end of the ride...20.1 mph, including the 15 minutes of warm-up and 10 of cool-down.

And have you ever noticed how, early in a ride, there's always a point at which it becomes extraordinarily painful to maintain the pace, usually a hill, or an acceleration, that forces a decision...ride through the pain, knowing that your legs will loosen up and it'll be okay, or take it easy, slide out the back of the group and feel like a wimp.

But at least your legs don't hurt. Right?

Recovery week, or just lazy?

So this week is supposed to be a recovery week in my periodized training program. Despite this, I decided to show up for the Tuesday night Pain Train. 15 minutes into the ride, it started to sprinkle a little bit, I looked where we were headed and the skies were black. Recalling the soggy lightning "enhanced" ride from last week, I quickly decided to stick to my training plan and turned for home, taking it easy except for the climb up Smyer where I gave a good effort. I still got 25 miles in today, so it wasn't a complete loss.

It was a good day. I enjoyed my riding today, and when it's all said and done, isn't that what really counts?

I mean, if you're not going to enjoy the pain as much as the easy rides, why bother?

It Must Be Working

On Saturday, at a family dinner honoring one of my sisters-in-law, another of Cathy's sisters announced that I was looking "skinny". Yet another sister informed her that guys don't like to be told they're skinny, so she changed her statement to let me know that she thought I looked "hot".

Heh. If only the sister I am married to felt the same way, I'd be golden.

Anyway, despite what my scale says, apparently my all important (for a cyclist) strength to weight ratio is improving. I still sport a 12 pack (rather than a 6), but it's nice to know that things are looking better.

So I'm officially done talking about my winter weight gain and inability to get rid of it.

Kenny and I signed up for Cherohala this evening. It's going to be a lot of fun to have him there. Cathy is also planning to ride some of the route...at least, I'm planning for her to ride, she's skeptical. But we'll put some miles into her legs before then. And besides, she was pretty skeptical about doing the triathlon last spring, but she did just fine, and even managed to have fun.

And yet more rain...

After two sunny, but very windy days, the rain showed up again an hour into my planned 3 hour ride this morning.

It wouldn't have been so bad, but it was windy, and cold as well. Those things all add up to one very chilly cyclist. Still, I managed to make it to just 10 minutes short of 3 hours, so I won't complain. But boy, the hot shower when I got home sure felt great!

After a boatload of miles this week, I'm really looking forward to a recovery week next week.

Can Carly Simon make you a better cyclist?

A couple of weeks ago, I was starting out on a ride, and being late to meet my riding partner, I was riding hard up the hill away from my house. The climb is only a mile long but steep enough to be painful, especially when you have 0 minutes of warm-up time to prepare for said climb. Just about the time that I was thinking about how I needed to slow down because it hurt too badly, the shuffle songs function on my iPod decided to throw Carly Simon's I Haven't Got Time For The Pain through the headphones. I had a good chuckle and realized that she was right. I had left things too late before actually climbing on the bike and now I had to pay the price.

I remembered this because today, the same song came on during my morning commute, on a different hill, one I normally just spin up and take it easy on in the mornings. Inspired by the song, I decided to give it a little extra gas today. I felt strong. I was climbing almost like the old days when I didn't have 18 years of marriage under my belt ("under my belt" being the operative phrase here, as 18 years of marriage is literally showing on my waistline). I noticed this same thing on my ride home last night...my climbing is improving. I still don't have the uphill vertical velocity that I'd like to have, (does anybody?) though my downhill vertical velocity is nearly unbeatable. Still, I'm feeling good on the climbs. I'm not tiring out like I was a month ago. In fact, last week I set a PR on Smyer of 7:06 (1.5 mi @ 5-6%). I can get into a rhythm and feel like I can stay there for hours. That's a good thing, because at Cherohala, I'll be doing exactly that.

Unless I have to get off my bike and push it.

Maybe I need to put a few more Carly Simon songs on the iPod.

So far, so inconsistent

Another rainy day yesteday. In fact, I think it was darker at noon than I've seen it at night lately. So no mileage yesterday. In fact, I forgot my card to get in the Rec center and had to skip working out altogether.

On a positive note, my mileage compared to last is a greater by 164% to date. The flip side of this is that I did so few miles last spring (and even fewer in the summer and fall) that a determined 6 year old could beat last years figures.

Saturday I had a good ride though. Russ and I hooked up and went out to Vandiver, crossing Coosa Mountain, then Double Oak Mt on highway 25. Those are two good climbs. From Vandiver, we looped out to Sterret, then back to Vandiver, where we met our wives, who joined us for another loop out to Sterret and back. Then we climbed the south Vandiver climb (I did it 1 and a half times, as I went back from the top and found the others about halfway up, turned around and climbed with them again).

All in all, it was a good ride. 65 miles and no noticeable fatigue. I felt like I could have done another 20 or 30. On the "so inconsistent" side of things, my commute into work this morning (10 miles) was agony. And with no climbing. Which of my riding personalities will show up on any given day is anyone's guess.

That's frustrating.

Rain, Rain, Go Away

So, it's time once again for the weekly Tuesday night "kill-your-own-grandmother-and-sell-your-firstborn-to-get-ahead" club ride, and that means that it's also time once again for the weekly thunderstorm.

It isn't enough for whoever controls the weather around here that the ride is 90 minutes of anaerobic agony...apparently I need a good dose of dodging lightning bolts as well. Though my trusty mechanical steed is carbon fiber everywhere I could afford to put carbon fiber, there are still enough metal parts to make this an uncomfortable situation. Really. Everytime I saw a lightning bolt I instinctively ducked my head as though if I couldn't see it, it couldn't hit me. Not that it mattered that I wasn't looking where I was going anyway...my sunglasses (clear lenses) were too fogged to see through, and the rain was falling too hard to leave my eyes unprotected.

So I got home, thoroughly soaked. I showered, changed clothes and headed back to the car to go to Christopher's band concert. As I sat in the driver's seat, I realized that I had forgotten to dry it off before sitting back down with clean dry jeans on. (Yes, this probably would have been a good time to let Kenny use his newly minted driver's license)

So I had a constant reminder for the duration of the concert of why I really don't like the rain.

I shouldn't complain too badly though...I had a good ride going until Zeus decided to throw a temper tantrum. Granted, the ride was a bit less intense than some weeks, but Ruffner was tough, and I was wheezing like a leaky tire at the top of John Rodgers Drive. A little gap opened there, but I managed to close it down and was with the lead group all the way to 78, where the rain started and we all headed back to the cars instead of doing Old Leeds Road.

Cherohala is only 5 weeks away. If I don't put some miles in before then, I'll be praying for a thunderstorm so that I have an excuse to not look like a hack that failed to train again this year.

The First Try

So, I was reading a blog that Dan Tindall recommended and I thought, this is a pretty good way to let family & such know what's going on...so here it is, my Blog.

I'm sure I'll create a more informative article tomorrow when the sound of my keyboard won't drive Cathy insane while she's trying to sleep.

Well, now she knows that I'm doing this and has coerced my promise that I would do nothing to embarrass her. (I hope spelling doesn't count).