Holiday Road

Wasn't that the name of the song in "Christmas Vacation"? Anyway, it was 3 days before Christmas, and Jon was in town from Utah. The morning broke on a beautiful sunny day. The weather channel app on my iPhone said it would be 61 before the day was over, so I happily tossed my tights back into the drawer and finished putting things together for the ride.

On my way out the door, downstairs heading into the garage, I smelled a funny odor...I asked by two oldest boys to make sure they cleaned their bathroom. But then decided to go see why it smelled so badly. The floor, and the tub were filled with backed up...you know what. After putting the two teenagers in charge of clean-up and taking on "get a plumber here pronto" duties for myself, I finally headed out to pick up Jon about 30 minutes late. I wasn't too worried about it, I knew we had plenty of daylight to ride with, and a little later start meant warmer temps as well.

We finally hooked up with Doug and the Beast at our predetermined meeting spot, out at 280 and 119. Got Jon's loaner adjusted to fit, and headed out.

Because the Beast was in town, and we were only a short ride from his favorite hill, I was resigned to the fact that we would indeed be climbing Hugh Daniel drive, from the Greystone side. Words cannot express how much I loathe that hill. The pitch constantly changes, and the easiest parts are 8-9%. I just can't ever get a good rythym going on it. After that climb and down the other side, we headed southwest and down through the Narrows, which is a particularly scenic road that has no traffic and a nice little river running along next to it. Heading down 43 toward Vandiver, I found that I was having a really tough time keeping up. Months of no riding were paying off for me in exactly the way I expected. My superior Mass/Strength ratio helped me close the gap on the downhills of the rollers, only to lose it again when the road turned up.

Finally pulling into the BP station at Vandiver, I pulled out my phone and started checking to see what was happening with the plumbing disaster. I also grabbed a plastic bag, put ice in it, and iced down my nagging elbow for 15 minutes while Jon, Doug, and the Beast all did a little loop that added some mileage to their ride. I met them at the top of Coosa Mountain, where they had already descended and climbed back up the north side from Dunavant.

We headed down and I think Jon was a bit surprised with the short but steep climb after the descent back up to the "town" of Dunavant. We turned west again and after riding 41 past Shoal Creek, headed back up Hugh Daniel (the side we had descended earlier), then down the other side and back to the cars.

A good ride, that motivated me tremendously to do something about getting back in shape. Jon was strong and didn't appear to have much trouble keeping up, so I'm told he had a good time and learned a little bit about what it's like to ride in the south.

All in all, you couldn't have asked for better weather, or friends to ride with.

Holiday Riding

Okay. I'm fed up. I've finally decided to ignore whatever shape my body is in and work at doing something to improve my fitness regardless of the lack of complete functionality. To that end, this past week, I started riding my bike again, and keeping track of what I eat to better keep control of my caloric intake every day.

So far, even with holiday eating, I'm down 3500 calories from my budget this week. My goal is to lose 20 pound over the next 20 weeks. This seems reasonable...no? I'm using "Lose-It" for my iPhone...the app I used last year to lose some extra weight before our cruise so I could eat away without worry while on vacation. It worked for me then, so it should work for me now.

How am I down 3500 calories? Riding. After riding to and from work on Monday, on Tuesday I did a 35 mile road ride with the Beast, Doug, and Jon. We had a great day with spectacular weather (low 60's, sunny, light breeze), and some strong climbs, and lots of rollers. Yeah, I spent most of the day off the back, but it still felt good to be riding again. Wednesday we rode the loop out at Oak Mountain State Park...a tough mountain bike ride, technical with a long steep climb, and fun fun fun descents on twisty single-track.

I took the rest of the week away from excercise, but I'm back to it tomorrow with a lunchtime swim.

On the Road Again...

I haven't been on the bike since October 3. It's not been any fun. I find I sometimes need external motivation, and three things have conspired this week to provide that for me.

1) Jon, of Lactic Acid Threshold, is in town for a wedding, and we're going to get a couple of rides in while he's here. I've never ridden with Jon, and while on any normal day, he would kick me all over the road, I'm hoping to use the home court advantage to keep the humiliation to a tolerable degree. We'll ride MTB at Oak Mountain, and a do a road ride, both with the Beast.

2) I stepped on the scale two days ago and discovered that I was cursed with an additional 12 pounds, aquired since returning from a cruise back in March. It's got to come off. No wonder I feel so tired lately.

3) That bright round disc in the sky has returned, and I'd better take advantage of it while it's here. Who knows when we'll start getting rained upon again, and how many weeks it will last before seeing sunshine again.

So, with that in mind, I put on every layer of cold weather gear I owned this morning for my "in the 20s" commute/first ride in nearly 3 months. Turns out I didn't need all that layering as the aforementioned 12 pounds insulated me sufficiently.

In short, the ride hurt. From the first mile of 8% climbing to get away from my house, to the little rollers along 10th South, it was as if I had never ridden before.

I'm not sure if I'm looking forward to the ride home tonight.

My Favorite Weather

Yesterday was a beautiful fall day, cool and sunny with a cloudless sky. A perfect day for a nice easy 35 with Jake. It feels good to be back out riding again, after an endless summer of injury.

Where did the summer go?

It's been a loooong time since I've been on my bike. May's 3 State 3 Mountain put me off the bike for 3 weeks. Just as I as ready to start riding again, the weather went bad, and I had a crash on my scooter that seperated my left shoulder, bruised ribs, hip and knee. That meant no riding for 6 weeks (according to my doctor, I was planning on 4). The next set-back came early in July while I was at the lake with family for a week. I decided I'd go ahead and waterski. Overcompensating for the shoulder, I managed to tear muscle away from my ribs, which has only this past week stopped hurting enough to let me sleep on that side.

So. Summer is gone. And it's been several months since I spent any time at all on my bike. Sure, I've put in 5 miles here and there (about 3 times over the past month), but nothing to write about.

So I went this morning with some friends. They took it easy on me. We did 33 miles. At times it was faster than I would have liked, but that's just the way it goes. I suffered on the climbs (my shoulder hurt a bit when I would pull on the bars just the right way), and my legs were quite sore when I climbed the stairs after getting home. It's been a long time since I felt that burn.

I like it.

Wet

Saturday was the 3 State 3 Mountain ride in Chattanooga. The weather forecast when I left Friday afternoon was for a typical summer type day, with 50% chance of rain in the late afternoon. Since I planned to be finished and long gone on my way home before late afternoon, I figured it was going to be a nice day.

Following baseball practice (my Dodgers are 8-3-1, and have won 5 in a row by the way), I got off to a late start when I couldn't find the wrench I need to attach my rack to the van's hitch mount. Cathy found it for me, and I left to pick up Jake. Discovering along the way that I forgot the GPS mount. So Jake and I headed back to my place to retrieve it. In other words, an already late start got later by the minute.

Finally out of Birmingham, and on our way, The Beast called wondering where we were. We were about an hour short of Chattanooga, just outside of Gadsden. 5 minutes later, it started raining. Then it began to rain harder. I had the wipers on as fast as possible and couldn't see a thing. I started checking the weather radar on my iPhone (love that feature) and discovered huge bands of orange and red and yellow stretching all the way to Arkansas. Sigh. Maybe a miracle would happen.

The next morning, it was barely raining at all. Encouraged, we headed off with 2500 other riders through downtown Chattanooga. We were near the front, feeling good, even though it was beginning to rain a bit harder. Then The Beast had a flat. We'd gone maybe 3 blocks. We pulled over and changed that flat in less than 3 minutes. Hundreds of riders had passed us, but we were still well within the group. We jumped out and started off again. Less than 2 blocks later, The Beast was stricken with another flat. Again, a very fast change and back into the group, but near the back this time. Heading past AT&T field (where the Lookouts play), Jake had a puncture. His tire was a little harder to change, but eventually it was repaired and while inflating it, the tube blew. So we pulled the whole thing apart again, and installed our last tube. So, if you're keeping score at this point, it's now raining pretty hard, we've gone less than 1.5 miles, and had 4 flat tires in our group of 4 riders. There was talk of packing it in right there, but...

Finally on the bikes again, a few blocks later, we passed a bike shop, which opened for us to replenish our tube and CO2 cartridge supply. Jake and I also got cheap rain jackets...the clear rubber/plastic kind that we discovered kept the rain out, but the sweat in. I know.

We made it to the outskirts of Chattanooga, without another rider anywhere in sight. All 2496 riders (besides ourselves) were up the road. We were dead last. A motorcycle support guy pulled up alongside us and warned us about some railroad tracks up ahead. He said they'd had several crashes there and suggested we walk across. When we came to them, I pulled my right leg over to the left side of my bike and coasted across them, ready for the bike to slip. Jake on the other hand, chose not to dismount, and sure enough, he went down. I looked back to see him picking himself up and trying to get going again.

As the first climb began at mile 10 (Suck Creek Mountain), the rain was falling pretty hard, but things seemed to be looking up as far as making some headway on putting some miles behind us. This climb lasts 5 miles, and 3 miles into it, the bottom fell out and it couldn't have rained any harder. There was lightning and thunder, and I'll admit that being on a bicycle near the top of a mountain in such conditions was not exactly comfortable. I'm no coward, but I have a healthy respect for things that can kill me...like lightning.

All along the climb, we had been passing riders. We probably passed 2 or 3 hundred on our way up. Now we started seeing large numbers of riders coming back down the mountain heading back in (abandoning). I have to admit, a dry, warm car was an enticing thought at that point, but we kept on going.

Skipping way ahead, to mile 45...my knee had been bothering me for about 10 miles. By this point it was almost unbearable. In the cold and wet, it had never warmed up properly (and I'm too stupid to bother to stretch properly before I ride). We had a discussion as a group and decided that I'd head off and do the 100K route (63 miles) while they finished the full 100 miles. So we split up at that point. About a mile into the shorter route, I decided to abandon that plan and go back and finish the full 100 miles too. I rode back and rejoined the 100 mile route.

About a mile into that, my chain broke. I took that as a sign I was making the wrong choice. I started walking back hoping a support vehicle would be along soon, when another rider offered to help my fix my chain. We got it together and I managed to make it back to the finish without it breaking again.

It isn't the way I'd hoped to do the ride this year, but sometimes things happen in a way you don't expect. On the plus side, there were Physical Therapists at the finish who finally pointed me in the direction of what is causing my knee problems. Hopefully, if I break my bad habit of not stretching and start building better flexibility (particularly my IT Band, which is causing my knee pain), I should have it beat.

I'm hoping to enjoy the full ride next year.

Yeah, it's been a while...

But I have been riding...some. I've been mostly doing the commute to work and back, interrupted by frequent days on end of rain and storms. Then a cruise to the Bahamas took me off the bike for 10 days, and added some of the weight I'd been working so hard to lose (admittedly, so that I could enjoy the cruise without so much worry).

But back in Birmingham and back on the bike now for a few rides. I did 4 days of the work commute last week (Tue, Wed, Thur, and Fri). I had some vague plan to work a ride in around B's baseball practice on Saturday, but nothing concrete until Jake called me and set up a ride for early Saturday morning.

I arrived at the appointed start as the sun was coming up, and was completely unprepared for the cold morning. After JB showed up and I repaired a flat on his rear tire, we took off, and the cold became freezing. At least until the sun started shining over the ridge we were riding next to.

I was a bit curious how this ride would go. Usually Jake and JB, who are runners, very fit, and 10 years younger than me are off the front on these rides, especially the climbs. But when the road turned uphill on 25 toward Sterrett, I found myself riding away from them on the front. When we got to the final climb, up Hugh Daniels Drive, once again, riding away on the front (and the hill didn't seem quite as steep (it's 16% at the top) as it did the last time I rode it with them).

All in all, it was a good week, and I'm encouraged with where I am fitness-wise with 6 weeks to go before 3 State 3 Mountain.

Starting off right

I slept late yesterday...up late New Year's Eve and into the morning, so it was around noon when I finally started putting my stuff together for an afternoon ride at Oak Mountain. Unfortunately, most of my important stuff was awol. So I ended up leaving without it.

JB and I met up and started a nice comfortable pace. It didn't take long before we stopped and I pulled my tights and stuffed them in my pocket. Now wearing a short sleeve jersey and shorts, I was still very comfortable. It wasn't hot by any stretch, but it was warm enough that summer wear was working. As I said to JB along the way, let's see you do this on January 1 in Minnesota (from where he moved last summer).

JB's headset loosened up a bit so we stopped to tighten it (one of my "essentials" that I did manage to find was my multi-tool). 30 seconds after stopping for that, he called out that he had a flat. One of my "essentials" that I was unable to find was my pocket pump. Since he didn't have one either (the day just gets better) we were out of luck, although I did have a spare tube. Another rider came along and he let us borrow his to air up the repaired tire and we were off again.

Climbing the jeep road up from the North Trailhead, I noticed that it seemed as though they had taken a bulldozer to the trail and scraped up all the rocks that used to bedevil me on this climb. It was nice and smooth, at least up to the bridge, which made the climbing much easier. I decided to walk through Blood Rock after cracking my elbow trying to ride through it last month. No sense starting out 2009 with a bruise, right?

JB crashed hard on a stair step set of rocks on Johnson's Mountain. He planted his front wheel, it stopped, he kept going, landing square on his forehead, opening a small gash, and taking a large chunk out of the front of his new helmet.

My legs had that first twinge of cramping as I climbed the last hill up the girlfriend trail that leads to Mr. Toad's section. But we had ridden pretty steadily (effort-wise) and I wasn't surprised to have them notice the effort and protest a bit.

It was a beautiful afternoon for riding, and we had a great time. Best of all, I feel like I started off the season right, with a good 2 hour effort. It's raining today, but tomorrow is supposed to be sunny again. I think I'll take the Tarmac out on the road in the morning for a couple of hours.

My resolution for 2009, ride like I'm 35 again.

Lean and Mean

Yeah, I wish.

No it's not a description of me, it's the Spinerval workout I did on the rollers last night while C was at BCC rehearsal.

A few years ago, 7 of our family all did a triathlon together. Part of the swag was a DVD of a workout program called Spinervals. Everyone gave theirs to me. So last night I was looking through the DVD case thinking that I'd stick to the easier, but longer, workouts. Then I saw the workout called Lean and Mean and thought, hmm, I've never done this one. I don't even know what it covers. So I decided to give it a try.

It was a thigh burner. I'll definitely be doing it again. I'm thinking it'll be my regular Monday night workout.

In other news, I've done a couple of rides recently, nothing major, but one two weeks ago out at was epic only due to the extreme cold. JB, The Beast, Doug, and I did the OMSP loop. It was around 20 degrees when we began and didn't warm up much by the time we finished the loop. JB left when we reached the North Trailhead (he had to work, apparently there's a great demand for Botox treatments on Saturdays). The rest of us continued on up the climb to Peavine Ridge where the wind tried to blow us off the side, and ensured that despite the sunshine, we wouldn't notice any additional warmth. I cracked my elbow hard against a ledge at Blood Rock, which summarily ended my attempt to make it through without putting a boot on the ground. It was a good ride, and I noted that my climbing, while not "fast", was steady enough to maintain gaps without letting them get out of hand.

On Thanksgiving morning, Jake and JB and I did the TNPT route. It wasn't too cold, but the low 30's means bundling up enough to take a bit of speed off. What normally takes 1:45 took us 2 hours. Add in the climb up Smyer and across Shades Crest and when I got home it was a solid 2:30 workout.

The best news of all, for me, is that since the Monday prior to Thanksgiving, I've lost 3 pounds. 11 more to go to race weight!

Early Morning Cold

The best way to combat a cold Saturday morning is to meet some friends for hill repeats on Smyer. I decided to do alternating intervals high cadence, low gear and big gear, low cadence. 2 minutes for each. Jake and John and I did 5 repeats each (2 miles each climb). By the time the local club boys (and girl) came along at the end of our last repeat, my legs were shot. But I hooked up with Dirt Dog and the rest for the ride back home, since they were headed the same way. It was a good Saturday morning...but I'm still struggling to find a regular routine of training that doesn't get clobbered by an increasingly busy non-cycling schedule.

A Little Better Day

This morning I met JB at Oak Mountain and we did a modified version of the trail, starting with Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, the Johnson's Mountain. Then up the Peavine Falls road to the fire road which leads to the top of the BUMP trail (where Blood Rock is located), down the BUMP trail, back onto the road and finishing up with Mr. Toad's back to the parking lot.

It was a good morning to ride...the weather was overcast, but it wasn't threatening to rain, just cloudy. Temps were moderate, and there wasn't any wind at all. It was almost perfect.

It was a better ride for me today than last week. I felt a little strained on Peavine Falls Road. I still need to work on dialing in my position on the MTB, and better fitness will help as well. I've got to excercise more than once a week if I want to get any stronger.

On The Trail

Saturday I went to Oak Mountain State Park to ride my mountain bike. It's been quite a while since I've done any off-road riding. It was also my first time on a bike since Hunstville two weeks earlier.

My friend John and I went together. We ran short on time and had to skip Johnson's Mountain, but otherwise, we had a good time. It was a tough ride, but if I can motivate myself better, I'll start riding faster.

But it was a beautiful fall day in Alabama and even if I'd crawled the trail, it would have been a pleasure to be outside on such a pretty day.

Huntsville 2008

Saturday was the annual Huntsville Century. The Beast arrived Friday evening to spend the night, just as I was finishing up a tear down, thorough cleaning, and rebuild of my bike. He brought me a wheel to use after I pulled a spoke nipple through the rim of my rear. I mounted a tire and put the wheel on and enjoyed the nice shiny silver drivetrain parts. I love a clean bike!

The next morning I went outside at o'dark thirty to load up the bikes to find it had been raining. Not such a big deal...the forecast was for partly cloudy and 80 degrees. Just a storm that had been passing through. Jake showed up, and Doug just a few minutes later, while the Beast stumbled through his morning routine. All loaded up, we pulled out for the 2 hour drive north.

It started raining. Then it started raining harder. I pulled up the weather radar on my iPhone and there were big orange/red spots covering up Hunstville! This was really looking like a bad day. Eventually, it slacked off, and when we got to the start, it was just drizzling. Following a quick change of clothes, and a not so quick wait in line to use the facilities, we were off.

This year we started mid-pack. The pace settled out and we were having a good time sorting out our legs and chatting with Jake (who was on his first century). It was still drizzling lightly, and my cleaning efforts from the previous evening were entirely negated as my ride was soon covered with mud splatters thrown up by my own tires, as well as those of riders around me.

The Beast suddenly realized that the group had split and there was a faster group a quarter mile up the road. Clearly that wouldn't do, so we began moving up until we were clear of the group we were riding in, and we began to chase. We closed down the gap quickly enough, and were soon riding with the first group on the road. As we settled into the rythm, I felt compelled to mention to Beast that I didn't consider the post ride meal to be sufficiently high quality to inspire me to arrive at the finish with the first group, but that he was free to get there as quickly as he wanted.

As the miles went by, our group began to dwindle. At some point, Jake and Doug had fallen out of the group and as I looked back over the fields on a left turn, I could see no riders within a mile of us. The Beast and I discussed it and decided we'd wait at the second feed stop for them to show, but we (especially me) felt pretty good and wanted to get as many miles in at this racing pace as possible before backing off to finish the ride. I kept telling myself I should ease up, that I'd pay for my efforts later, but I just couldn't do it. The drive to be the first one to reach the Elora Pentacostal Church (where food and drink supplies awaited) was just too strong. I wasn't first, but I was with them when we got there.

The Beast and I began riding back toward the start after 15 mintues had passed with no sign of Jake or Doug. We soon found them making their way toward us. Reloaded, and relieved, we headed out for the Lexie Crossroads Steak and Seafood house, where the third food stop was located. I was feeling the effects of covering the first 35 miles at an average 22mph for the most of this leg. My glycogen levels were depleted, and so I had to focus on taking in more energy sources than I was using, to get myself back to better levels. Lots of longish rollers and permanent rest stops (cemetaries) populate this part of rural southern Tennessee. It's scenic and, oh by the way, the rain had stopped about 15 miles into the ride, we were dried off and the weather, while cloudy, was very nice.

At Lexie Crossroads, we found the grill going, complete with the bacon wrapped filet, but in a new wrinkle this year, also bacon wrapped scallops. The beef was wonderful, and while I normally love scallops, the combination of hard aerobic excercise and seafood odor just don't quite mix. 18 miles later, through the northern-most loop in the Valley That Time Forgot we arrived back at Lexie Crossroads for yet another surf-n-turf snack before tackling the last 40 miles. One long climb awaits just a 1/2 mile from the stop, and then it's (theoretically) smooth sailing from there.

With 30 miles to go, my left knee started to bother me. I should mention that I'd fallen and hit it into the elevator door at my office on Friday, twisting it and making little pop sound. But after a few steps, it seemed okay so I didn't give it another thought. Until now. Every mile that went by it hurt worse. It finally got to the point that on any little rise I would be ejected out the back of the group like a paper bag out a car window. The Beast would roll back and help me get up some of the long rollers, while I was okay for a pedal stroke or six on the shorter ones and could handle those okay, for a while.

With 10 miles to go, every pedal stroke my knee felt like it was going to explode. Again, The Beast was an invaluable ally at this stage, making sure that I didn't fall too far behind, moderating the pace when I asked and generally keeping a positive attitude.

In the end, I finished. 107 miles in 5:46. It kind of makes me wonder what kind of time I lost from my knee bothering me. We finished this ride fast, but not as fast as we could have, so I'll avoid elevators next year and we'll see what we can do.

My ride with a TDF Champ

Just because a couple of lawyers lack the mental capacity to understand the science doesn't mean that Floyd Landis is a doper. On the other hand, just because one lawyer does undertand the basic freshman physics behind the assertion that the test result was flawed, doesn't mean he isn't a doper. The point of this, is that ASO and the UCI/WADA/USADA not-withstanding, Floyd Landis is a Tour De France Champion, who won (in 2006) after unleashing one of the most incredible breakaways in Tour history to gain back most of an 8 minute deficit. What Floyd did that day (Stage 17) is bigger than 59-0.

Saturday morning, Floyd Landis joined the weekend version of the Tuesday Night Pain Train. I had the chance to ride alongside Floyd for quite a bit of the ride, we chatted and I listened as he talked with other people in the group. At one point, a rider came the other way and hollered, "is this the Landis group?" Floyd who was right next to me suppressed the urge to respond, "I think so".

We took it easy (the way we used to) out through the neighborhoods of Mountain Brook and Irondale. Floyd rode near the back of the group, and camly drank his Starbucks at 18 mph, while carrying on multiple conversations.

By the time we hit Ruffner Road, the coffee was gone, and the caffiene had begun to kick in as Floyd moved to the yellow line and went to the front. I stayed glued to his wheel as the pace continued to increase. Coming over a small (to me, most likely un-noticed by Floyd) rise in the road, I shot over to the left and went as hard as I could. Going down the other side, I looked back to see a small group of 6 riders chasing me hard, Floyd camly sitting in with them. Further back, I could see the effects of the stick of dynamite I had just tossed into the group, as they began to break up, some chasing the chasers, others deciding they were done, or couldn't follow.

I was caught and the sat in on Floyd's wheel again until the last hill on Ruffner, where once over the top, Floyd came past me like a G5 passing a private single-engine, and eventually I lost sight of him for good.

I rode along by myself for a few minutes as some of the other riders began to catch me while I recovered from an effort I hadn't put in for a looong time.

My biggest impression of Floyd is that he is a geniunely nice guy. I spent nearly 30 minutes with him talking and listening to him talk. He was kind and gracious to everyone who approached him. He offered compliments and positive comments to everyone. I contrast this with talk that I've heard about some of the other successful riders and "world-class" athletes, and some that I've experienced first-hand. I put Floyd even ahead of Mario Cippollini (with whom I've also ridden), who probably only suffered from a language barrier that made him seem a little pre-occupied.

Anyway, to sum up...I rode with Floyd, Floyd is a nice guy, Floyd is very fast. I hung with him as long as I could. It wasn't enough, I wish I could have hung longer, but it was fun anyway.

Sometimes you're the nail...

Only one word can describe tonight's pain train.

Ouch!

I missed last weeks first pullout (coaching the Dodgers that night), but I thought it would be much the same as last years weekly sell-your-first-born, kill-your-own-grandmother-to-get-ahead ride. I was wrong.

Within the first mlle it became clear that this year's pace is designed not just to drop those who can't keep up, but to kill them first, then spit them from the rear.

Last year it was always my goal (while riding with the A group) to stay with them through the neighborhoods and to the end of Ruffner Road.

This year it looks like the goal is going to be to arrive at the neighborhoods with the group. Never mind staying with them the whole way through.

Why was it so fast? I really have no idea. I'll say this though, it isn't very often that you look over next to you and see a rainbow jersey (a world champion) riding next to you. I guess this makes two WC's I've ridden with (Mario Cippollini at the Tour De Georgia in 04).

Tonight I was the nail. Give me a few weeks. I'll start swinging the hammer.

Out of shape, out of (my) mind...

Saturday the Beast drove over from Georgia and we met up at Oak Mountain State Park for some fun on the red trail. I was worn out from Friday's 9 hour shift on the Scout Christmas Tree lot, where I had shoved my hip out of joint hauling a tree, (leaving me unable to walk for about an hour).

Jeff and I hooked up at the south trailhead parking lot and began our ride clockwise, with 7 Bridges as our first section. The air was cold. And by cold I mean that I didn't bother to shed my arm warmers or tights for the whole ride. Unusual because you warm up really fast mountain biking without the wind to keep you cooled off. But there was very little "warming up" to be done.

We had a pleasant ride through 7 Bridges, and The Chimneys over to the North Trailhead, where Doug was waiting for us.

The 2.5 mile climb up to the ridge on the fire road hurt. I gave serious thought to the possibility that I might actually be certifiable for riding with these two while I was in such lousy shape. My HR was constantly over 180 for the entire climb. Pain. Lots of pain. Lots and lots of pain. (to be followed by the way, by another 9 hour shift on the tree lot).

Jeff and Doug would pull ahead on the steep sections, then I would close the gap down on the easier parts, then ahead again, and pull it back again, all the way to the BUMP Trail, where the fun really begins. Miles of downhill singletrack, twisting and winding through the trees as it traverses down the mountain side again.

It's been about 2 years since I've ridden at OMSP, and I could tell that I needed more experience to relearn the twists and turns, and most importantly, the proper line past Blood Rock. Past that, Johnson's Mountain and Mister Toad's Wild Ride are always a ton of fun, and I didn't have much trouble keeping up with my two ride partners, except on the uphills.

The one thing that is clear is that I'm going to need to ride more than once per week if I expect to even maintain any conditioning.

The Silver Shoe Dilemma

Cycling culture is a vicious circle of do’s and better-not-if-you-don’t-want-to-get-laughed-at’s. For example, the question of what kind of tires should you ride is always plagued by that nagging voice in the back of your head...”if you show up with your otherwise expensive equipment shod in cheap wire-bead tires, you’ll be the laughingstock of the pack tonight. On the other hand, if you show up with expensive kevlar belted, ultra-light folding bead tires, you run the risk of being derided as a “poseur”. (Note, nobody really knows what kind of tires you're riding, the bead is hidden within the rim and only an expert, which every cyclist fancies himself to be, could know the difference. Especially on the move).

Another example: Do I carry one water bottle, two water bottles, or no water bottles on the ride tonight? If I carry two, I should have plenty of water, but risk being called a fred who doesn’t care about the all important extra grams I’m hauling around. If I carry none, I look cool until I get dropped. Then I’m just the foolish fred who forgot or ingored the importance of hydration.

The antidote to this dilemma, of course, is speed. If you have it, nothing else matters. If you don’t, nothing else matters. Another example. I have friend with whom I occasionally ride. Doug doesn’t really care what anybody thinks and has no problem hauling around every tool known to mankind in his oversized fanny pack, and does so on cheap wire bead tires of dubious lineage. Doug realizes that if you’re keeping up with him, you’re going to be wheezing too hard to make any comments about his cycling accoutraments. And if you can’t keep up with him, when you do see him again, you’ll look pretty silly criticizing his style, since he’s still clearly faster than you. Again, speed trumps everything.

I could go on and on with example of how speed can make up for a multitude of style and/or equipment faux pas, but then I’d never get to the point of this post...so...

A few years ago, I went shopping for new cycling shoes. I had worn out my old (circa 1987) colorful Look shoes (how I loved those genuine leather baby’s!). I had my heart set on a pair of Sidi Genius shoes. While the leather is faux, they still feel like slippers on a foot and I knew after trying on many pairs that this was the shoe I had to have.

There was just one problem. The only pair in town in my size was silver. Buying silver shoes is perfectly okay. It’s the actual wearing of them where you get into trouble. You see, in cycling culture, if you wear shoes of a color other than black, you’d better be able to back it up. Wearing silver shoes screams “hey everybody, look at me, I’m fast!!!”

I begged the shop owner to order a pair of black ones for me. Can’t do it he said, next season’s shoes are all I can get and the price has jumped considerably because they’re an “improved” model. “But it’s okay” he said, “I’ve seen you on the Pain Train. You can wear silver shoes.”

So I went ahead and bought them. And nobody gave me a second glance until I started to neglect my training this year. Now every time I get dropped, I wish I’d spray painted my shoes black before the ride.

So I’ve thought about this all season long and I’ve come up with some options.

I could buy black shoes, but I can’t afford the current model of the shoes I have now, so I’d have to downgrade to do that. And my wife would kill me if I bought new cycling shoes while she is searching through the closet for shoes of just the right shade of blue to wear to church on Sunday.

So that option won’t fly.

So now we’re back to the only real solution. Speed. Remember, it trumps everything. I need to get fast again. Meanwhile I’ll print up a sign that I can pin to my back before every ride that says:

I am not a poseur. I was fast when I bought these silver shoes. I know I’m still wearing them and I’m not fast now, but I hope to be fast again some day. To that end I’m investing money in a training program instead of black shoes. Please be patient with me and don’t laugh. By the way, can I borrow a water bottle?

Humberto is a blowhard

Friday, September 14
Last night as I was trying to adjust Kenny's bike, I discovered that the lower bearing race on the steering tube had not been installed properly, and so I couldn't tighten the headset up properly. So I took the whole thing apart and hauled the offending fork/steerer tube down to the shop to be repaired. I had just finished putting his bike back together when The Beast arrived from Atlanta to pick me up for our trip to Huntsville for the Century tomorrow. Who would have thought that you could fit two bicycles, and two passengers with attendant bedding and clothes and all the gear you have to haul for a bike ride into a Volvo S40? We even had room left over.

We stopped at Surin West for a dinner of Sushi and assorted high carb Thai dishes, and then hit the road. We were on our own because Kenny and his friend Chris were staying behind in Birmingham to go to their respective school's football games (it was the big Spain Park vs Hoover HS (of Two-A-Days fame). Chris' dad would drive them up the next morning, leaving Bham at 4 am to get them to the start in time.

We stopped at Calogipi's brother's house for the night, where we were too late to see the kids. I was told that my niece had cried because she had to go to bed before she got to see me. The boys apparently, couldn't care less. They're boys after all.

September 15, 2007 4:30 am
It's one of those mornings where you keep having that dream that you're waking up, getting dressed and about to eat breakfast, when suddenly you realize that you're dreaming and go back to dream about something else, only to have a repeat of this previous dream (more realistic this time) a few moments later. This process is repeated until you actually physically move from the bed.

I hate mornings like that.

5:30 am
I decide that it's time to finally wake up and get moving, though my alarm isn't set to sound for another 15 minutes. I grabbed my new iPhone and text-messaged my son (K) to find out where they were. When it took him 40 minutes to respond I became worried that he might have missed his alarm and be snuggled all warm and cozy in his bedroom back in Birmingham.

We arrived at Madison County High School where the ride start and finish was located. Kenny and Chris got their things put together and took off an hour ahead of the scheduled start. Neither of them had ridden 100 miles before, so they wanted to give themselves plenty of time.

8:00 am
As the ride start was just minutes away, we rode up to the front of the group and when things got underway, The Beast and I were at the front. The wind was blowing 15-20 mph dead into our faces and so I decided that I'd just go ahead and let each of the others take their pulls now. After all, we have 50 miles of Tropical Storm Humberto's headwind ahead of us. There'd be plenty of time to pull later. It was cold, but sunny and except for the wind, you couldn't have picked a better day for this ride. The forecast high was 79 degrees. But as I found out later, you can still get a nasty sunburn, even when it's cool.

For the most part, people were content to let things go easy for a mile or two, but gradually the pace started increasing until a large group (perhaps 100 strong) were rolling along at 24-25 mph. Having not ridden much at all since Cherohala, and certainly very little speedwork, this effort was taking a lot out of me. At 13 miles into the ride, I felt the first twinges of a cramp in my left calf. Purely an "effort cramp" as the weather was still very cool. We made a turn to the west which brought us broadside to the wind and we broke into echelons across the road while the pace ramped up to 29-30 across some sizable rollers. After 3 miles of this crosswind leg, we turned back into the wind and immediately started another sizable roller. Being nowhere near the front, I saw The Beast make the turn in the first 5 riders and kick the pace up another notch. As he tells it, a second after that, a professional triathlete on a Scott Plasma when to the front and dialed it up to 33...climbing the hill. I don't dispute that account, because when I finally got to the corner and made the turn, I had to sprint as hard as I could at 35-36 (because of the "accordian effect" of being at the back of a group) to catch the back of the riders ahead of me. But by the time I got back on, I couldn't say. I was deep, at 188 bpm of heart rate and I knew I was cooked, with 80 miles still to go.

So I settled in with the other dozen riders who had been dropped and we began working together to get through it with some help. The Beast eventually noticed that I wasn't there anymore and dropped back to find me. I was a couple of hundred yards back. So he hooked in with my group and promptly strung it out to the point that there was no chance to work together anymore.

So I made him pull. He did it willingly. He'd spent the past 4 years living in Plano, TX and Tulsa, OK. This wind was nothing to him, and it was beating me to death so I sat on his wheel and stayed there until the first big climb at mile 38 (following the downhill where my friend Katie crashed out last year).

When I arrived at the feed stop, Kenny and Chris where there, having just arrived 2 minutes ahead of me. After reloading fluids, we left together and descended into The Valley That Time Forgot, where you find the toughest climb on this ride, the road leading up to the ridge called Mars Hill. I remembered that it was steep, but it took The Beast, Kenny and Chris by surprise. Kenny flew, and I mean FLEW!, up that hill! We finished the loop through the valley which brought us back to the feed station we had just left. Kenny and Chris were behind us a few minutes so we decided to make it a relaxed stop and get some food. Now, as food goes, most commonly you'll find bananas, and grapes, fig newtons, raisins, and trail mix along with water and gatorade, at these stops. But this stop went even further. They had all of these, plus, watermelon, hot dogs, coolers full of Go-Gurts (surprisingly tasty during a ride), coolers of V-8, Mountain Dew, Sprite, Coke, and bottled water. And the best of all, a barbeque grill churning out bite sized pieces of bacon-wrapped filet mignon as fast as you could eat them! We ate our fill without gorging ourselves and a couple of minutes after the boys arrived and announced their intention to rest a while, we took off again.

A mile or two later my left knee started to pop as I came around on my pedalling stroke. As the miles went by it got worse. When we arrived at the rest stop at mile 75, I told The Beast that I was going to have to get some ibuprofen and ice it down for 15 minutes. After that was done, we left again, but it really didn't feel a whole lot better. I was reduced to shifting into my small ring on any medium or larger roller and spinning up without loading my leg. Thanks to liberal portioning of Endurolytes, the cramping problems I worried about early in the ride weren't bothering me though. So that was a positive note.

At mile 88, The Beast announced that he had a flat tire, so we stopped to fix that. When I could see that he was in good shape I started off again, knowing that he would catch me. He did and we began a two man time trial to the end. We were flying along pretty well and even though I could only spin up the final steep hill, we finished the ride together in 5:42:20 for 102 miles.

Last year, I did this same ride in 5:18, but I had put in many more miles last year than I did this year, so I'm proud of that 5:42. Kenny and Chris finished a while later, their time being 7 hours, 15 mintues. Pretty good for their first 100 miler. Fact is, I'm prouder of them for finishing than anything else. Kenny is light (hence his ability to fly up a hill), and the 50 miles into Humberto beat the living daylights out of him.

But they (and we) finished. And that's what it's all about.

Saturday

The Beast will be picking me up tomorrow afternoon (driving from Kennesaw to Hoover) and we will head for Madison to spend the night at relatives before riding the Huntsville "All You Can Eat" Century on Saturday. I just checked the weather, a high of 79 and sunny. The air should be good and clean as well, after the collision of the remnants of the latest hurricane meet the storm front that moved in this afternoon, dumping tons of rain, which will continue until tomorrow evening.

Kenny and his friend Christopher will be doing the ride as well, so it should be a good report when it's all said and done.

Right now I have no delusions over my abilities. I was shelled from the front pack 20 miles into the BBC Century last weekend and didn't have the legs left to stay with anyone in the second group either. It was a disappointing day. Last year I finished the Huntsville event strongly...this year I just hope to finish.

A New Columnist in Bham

Our local cage liner has a new columnist...those who've read my blog for a while will recognize the name of the author, Doug Daughetee as one of my friends and riding partners. Doug reminds me a bit of Patrick O'Grady. I'll look forward to reading his column every other week.

http://www.al.com/sports/birminghamnews/ddaughhetee.ssf?/base/sports/1189607406232690.xml&coll=2