Fringe

Yesterday I participated in the Cochise County Classic.  I'm out of shape and over weight, but have been riding for about a month and a half now.  I approached the ride as another workout, a step towards getting back in shape.  I have little hope of achieving my goal for El Tour de Tucson of getting a Platinum finishing time.  (Platinum just means fast, basically.)

I took some time off in the summer as I'd plateaued, big time.  Then, just after one week of training I became very sick, not exercising at all for the next six weeks.  I had to ease back into riding for a couple of weeks before having my first really good week last week, 231 quality miles.  The problem is, I'd been eating like I was riding 15 hours a week the entire time!  So, packing on the pounds I did!

My wife and I stayed at the Motel 3 in Douglas, AZ.  The rooms were all smoking and there were safety awareness placards posted on the walls.  They had helpful information about dead bolting the door, how to contact the authorities in case of an emergency and so on.  But, I knew the place was okay when I saw that there was a fixed bottle opener and a clean ash try.  The bottle opener suggested that the normal clients at this establishment drink quality beer, not twist tops!  

The hotel was next door to the Border Patrol Detention Facility and we had read that announcements were made over the loud speakers all night long.  We didn't hear any such thing.

A few nights before the race someone that remembered me from the Nogales Classic contacted me, asking if I'd like to help he and his friends out.  He said they earned platinum status last year (a time of 4:20), but would like to improve this year.  I was quite flattered.  I remembered who they were and looked to fall in with them on the ride.

The morning was cold, just above 40 degrees.  That's perfect running weather, but on a bicycle, a bit chilly.  Turns out I couldn't feel my toes for about 3 hours!  At the start of the race the national anthem was played and the announcer mentioned to keep in mind, while cycling, those who are suffering and dear to your heart.  He shared the story of his niece who is likely to succumb to a long battle with breast cancer this coming week.  I thought of my daughter off lonely in Missouri at Basic Training, and was saddened.  I like the message though, these types of endurance events are a celebration, if not an exploitation, of good health.

The Chubby Cyclist...fear the socks!

The ride started at 6:30 AM.  The route began in Douglas, AZ, went through Bisbee, towards Tombstone and then looped back to Douglas.  I had no sight of the people that asked me to sit in with them, (I'll call them the Nogales group).  But, I was sure that if they were there and they got platinum, I'd see them passing me eventually.  
I started the race out towards the front of the group.  I wanted to use what I learned in the Nogales Bicycle Classic, which was, stay with the front as long as possible, but don't do any work!

I had no problem sticking with the group until we got to the climb...in fact, it was quite pedestrian.  Everybody knew the climb was coming and it should've been an easy ride before that point!  I saw the five or six guys that I was to sit in with pass me as they worked up towards the front of the group, but I was quite comfortable inside the center of the peloton, protected from the wind, so I let them go.

Once we got to the climb I realized I should've worked to move up towards the front of the lead group.  That way, if I began to get dropped, which was likely, then perhaps I would end up at the back.  But instead I was in the middle and by the time we were half way up, I was out the back and soon dropped, over heating and nearly sick.  I dialed it back and just eased up the climb in granny gear.  I didn't see any of the Nogales group on the climb, so I figured they moved right on ahead.

The climb was beautiful as it viewed Bisbee just to the right of the road and then we climbed up and through a tunnel that went beneath the mountain.   The problem was, the climb was demanding and I couldn't focus on much of anything other than forward motion. Things got crazy on the climb, it was so long, that people were being dropped over a good 15 mile stretch.  The peloton went from about 100 riders down to 50 quickly, then down to 30 or so when I started to get strung out.

I desperately wanted a break, but no rest for the weary!  I remember thinking that I was intensely happy that I've been riding hills a lot, knowing that I'd be suffering far worse if I hadn't been.  I also remember thinking that this was the race right here...if I had been able to stick with the group, I'd probably finish with the lead group.

Eventually a few people caught up with me as I was sitting up and not pushing anymore.  I tucked in behind them.  When we finally reached the top my extra weight shot me down the mountain!  That was cool, several miles of fairly steep decline to allow me to catch my breath. 

A typical echelon is strung out, a sign that the group is going fast.

A small group of 8 to 12 riders formed and we worked together for the rest of the ride, kind of.   We formed an echelon and took turns taking pulls.  That means, we were in a straight line, each person with their front wheel directly behind the rear wheel of another rider, save the person in front.  The person in front would break the wind, creating a slip stream for the other riders.  Since that's a lot of hard work that person would stay there for a short period of time, called a pull, then move over and the next person in line would pull.  If everybody was doing an equal share, the person pulling would drop to the back and get a good 5 to 6 minutes of easier work.

And while this makes the group go way faster than they could alone, make no mistake, rolling along at 24 to 30 miles an hour, having to surge forward as the riders in front perhaps start descending while you're still climbing, keeping in mind that you must keep contact with the rider in front or else you're out of the slip stream and must sprint to catch up, is not easy work!

A few riders instructed the group on how long to pull and that each puller should make sure not to lose contact with the group.  I was all ears, never having done much of this before, certainly not for any amount of time.  I got scolded for not signaling that I was done with a pull, then misread the gap as I tried to get back in line, nearly bumping another rider off the road.  I apologized personally each time.  The last thing I wanted to do was make a fool of myself (says the guy with the Where's Waldo socks).

I quickly learned the most effective way to move over and keep my speed so I can catch on the back of the echelon without a huge effort.  I saw how some people are "courteous," allowing those that just pulled to slip in front of them, thus ensuring they never have to pull.

At one point, someone allowed me in front, saying, "I'm gassed, need a bit more of a break."  That was fine.  But there was one particular rider doing no work.  Now, I know he was probably gassed too, heck, after a while we all were.  But, he was doing no work at all.  So, I took a risk and didn't cut in front of him.  I stayed behind him and everybody else that pulled then dropped in behind me.  This forced him forward and he had to work.  Soon after he lost contact.  I'm not sure of the etiquette required in such a situation, but part of me says, "No Free Rides."

Eventually we came away from the mountains and it got windy.  Crosswind, headwind.  Repeat.  A headwind sounds worse, but it's not bad.  Your front tire cuts through it nicely and if you tuck in, you make a small profile, the wind makes you work harder, but you can get a rhythm.

Crosswinds, however, are different.  I think it's because the wind hits the broad side of your wheels, slowing your spokes.  Not to mention, it pushes you sideways.  Regardless of the physics, it is the worst.  It's a lot of work to move forward in a crosswind and the benefits of an echelon are negated, almost entirely.  The picture to the left shows how an echelon stretches out sideways as each rider tries to get into the slip stream created by the next ride as they cut across the wind, instead of head on.

About this time I secretly wished for a flat tire.  Our group was too small to provide any shelter from the crosswinds.  However, the group still maintained about a 24 mph pace through the winds.  I toughed it out, but when I felt a strange sensation I looked down at my tire, kind of relishing the idea of catching my breath.  Then, someone took their turn to pull and took off.  The group surged.  I stood to sprint, cramped and sat down.  I caught back on the back, totally shot.  It happened again, and again.  I was done for.  I got dropped.

I rolled up to the last aid station, just about a half mile ahead.  I planned on refueling, getting some water and catching my breather.  Two other riders were there, one from the group that just dropped me.  I barely filled my bottles, choked down a cup of raisins and the other two were leaving.  I had to catch on.  I threw a banana in my pocket and took off, hoping I wouldn't cramp again.

Surprisingly, I felt fine.  We turned into the wind immediately after the aid station!  If I had just held on a half mile, about another 60 seconds, I'd probably have stayed with that group.   Still, the three of us worked together, taking fairly long pulls.  We caught a pair of riders from the group that dropped us and formed a group of five.  We moved quickly, 28 to 30 mph most of the time, directly into the wind.  But then, we turned into the crosswind again and I got dropped.

I thought about letting them go, but knew that I had a chance to catch them if I worked steadily.  I caught them and am glad I did.  They knew the route, and somehow hearing a description of what lay ahead comforted me.  I forgot about how bad I hurt and just went for it.

I crossed at 4 hours, 19 minutes and change.  I thought my clock was wrong!  The man I rode with most of the ride was also a Chubby Cyclist.  People came in after us, amazed at our time.  They commented that it was crazy to see two heavy weights move that fast on such a difficult court.

For me, this was a new things.  Not for the other guy.  He's been on the cusp of getting the platinum for a year now.  He said to look for him at El Tour de Tucson, said he has a group of friends that are all Fringe.

A few minutes later, the Nogales group came in.  I never noticed that I passed them, but guess I did on the climb.

I found a bench and laid down, put my legs up.  They hurt intensely.

Now, 24 hours later, I'm still elated with the race.  I'm hopeful that I will drop some weight between now and mid-November, for El Tour de Tucson.  Maybe I have a shot at platinum there!

EDIT:  The official results were posted, finally.  I missed platinum designation by 9 whopping seconds!  NINE! 

Platinum, by the way, means that (1) you're fast, and (2), you don't have to wait in line at 3 AM at El Tour de Tucson.

Wouldn't It Be Cool If ...

Endurance sports can be a lonely endeavor.  There are very few people I can call and say, "Hey, I just rode Gold Hill in under 15 minutes," and have it mean something to them.

Of course the internet has made it less lonely, and I could share with internet friends, "Hey, I had a PR or KOM."  But, unless they're ridden Gold Hill, they don't really understand.

This is a view from Gold Hill

Lately I've been riding with a friend of mine who is new to the sport, but eager to get into it.  I've been showing him my favorite local routes and when he pauses to appreciate some view or vista, it makes me see it all over again.  And living where I live, one of the biggest pluses in the cycling category is the stuff you get to see!

Last night I bought a bottle of wine, to celebrate and reward myself for a monster week.  I put in over 230 miles on the old bicycle this week and am feeling very great.  As wine often does to me, I woke about 3 AM.  I wasn't sick or hung over, just not sleeping.  Ugh.  I started on of my favorite hobbies under such conditions, imagining different routes and courses.  I got to thinking, what about a Tour?

You know ... a tour, like several days, covering the challenging and scenic routes in the county.  Maybe it could be a week long, maybe spread over a few weekends.  I started thinking and planning, how would it work, wondering if it would work, wondering if I really cared that it would work, it might be awesome to do alone anyway (though company would be better).  It would be a come one-come all type of thing, amateurs would really be the focus.  I remembered reading in a magazine how people were getting very tired of spending $120 to run or ride a race ... yeah, it goes to charity, supposedly, but whatever.  The article was showing how there was a trend of small groups getting together and running their own events at the actual cost of the support for the event.  Applying that idea, here's what I came up with:

• The Santa Cruz County Cycling Tour would take place over four weekends, including seven total rides and a party.
• Minor support would be provided, but each rider is essentially responsible for themselves. 
• Riders could participate in any portion of the rides, but a point system will be assigned.

While it would be a Santa Cruz County Tour, not all rides would be 100% contained inside the county.  After all, this is the smallest county in the state!  Here's how it would work:

Weekend 1:  Date:  TBD
Ride 1:  Pena Blanca to Kino Springs to Josefina to Pena Blanca  (90 miles)

This ride obviously needs a better name!  This ride contains some incredibly scenery and challenging terrain and quite a bit of climbing.  The ride begins at Pena Blanca Lake, which includes a Cat 4 climb, that is way harder than any Cat 4 I know of!  After the Cat 4, it's a fast and smooth downhill for about 7 miles, before hitting some rolling hills and then Gold Hill, which is a Cat 4 climb as well.  This would undoubtedly be a much higher category if it weren't for an incredibly steep quarter-mile down hill right in the middle of the whole thing!

After Gold Hill, there's a fast downhill for another 5 miles or so before the winding Cat 4 climb heading past Kino Springs Golf Course to the village.  Then the ride shoots down the very fast and smooth River Road before entering the Rio Rico area where the ride hits a Cat 3 and a Cat 2 climbing on Camino Josefina.  The ride finishes by returning to the starting point at the lake.

Elevation Profile, Categorized Climbs Inaccurate Here

Weekend 1, Ride 2:  Patagonia - Elgin (50 miles)

90

Day 2's ride is shorter and easier than the first day's ride.  The ride starts in beautiful and historic Patagonia, Arizona, loops through and around Sonoita and Elgin and then back to Patagonia.  There are no categorized climbs on the day, though the scenery is stunning.  Sonoita and Elgin are rich in agriculture including livestock and vineyards.  On a lucky day one may spot prong horn!

Weekend 2, Ride 1 (3rd total):  Whipple Visitor's Center to Madera Canyon (63 miles)

The second weekend of riding will begin at the Whipple Observatory Visitor's center, as pictured above.  The ride will begin very fast as the course will drop down to the valley below some 300 feet in about 7 miles.  Then the ride will make it's way up the most significant climb of the entire tour as it winds up Madera Canyon (category 1 climb).  It's common to see wild turkey and sometimes coatamundi in the canyon.

The route will descend from the canyon and return back up to the observatory's visitor's center, which is a category 2 climb.

Weekend 2, Ride 2 (4th total):  Tumacacori to Tubac Loop (22 miles)

Time trial!  Flat, fast and beautiful!  Tumacacori and Tubac are beautiful and very interesting.  After the short ride there's plenty to see and do. 

Weekend 3, Ride 1 (5th total):  Amado to Arivaca (46 miles)

This out and back begins in Amado, goes to Arivaca and returns.  This ride weaves in and out of Santa Cruz and Pima counties.  The route is full of winding road, rolling hills, interesting properties and majestic views.  The ride is challenging but fast.  There's one significant climb, though it is uncategorized.

Weekend 3, Ride 2 (6th total): Parker Canyon Lake (60 miles)

 This is the only ride I've not personally done, on a bicycle.  I've ridden it on a motorcycle several times, as well as in cars.  It's a beautiful ride.  There's quite a bit of climbing, several categorized climbs.  The software MapMyRide uses to calculate elevation is highly inaccurate, so I'm not sure exactly the nature of the climbs, but it's a hilly ride.  Certainly not as tough as some of the other rides in the tour though.

Weekend 4, Ride 1 (7th total):  The Santa Rita Mountains Loop (115 miles)

This route loops around the Santa Rita Mountains.  It is by far the longest ride on the tour.  It's a beautiful route, lots of rolling hills and scenery, including two very prolonged downhill segments!

By the time it's all said and done, the tour will have covered about 450 miles in seven rides

Can't Control the Outcome

Today didn't go as planned.

That's okay.

A friend of mine has started riding a road bike and has asked to join me on some rides.

Awesome.

Misery loves company!

Today I had planned on my favorite middle-distance route.  It's fifty miles, but a lot of climbing. I think it has three categorized climbs, plus a lot of steep, but short, hills.  Anyhow, it's scenic, hitting all of the great segments in the area.  In the shot to the left, which I stole, you can see the road below.  Fast and fun one way, grinding and painful the other!

The morning was beautiful, even a touch of fog.  So, of course, it was humid.  I rode from my house to a local gas station, met up with my buddy and we headed out.  On the climbs I noticed that my derailleur was rubbing my spokes when in the top gear.  Ugh.  I had to stop several times to adjust it.  I finally got it adjusted, but at the expense of the chain being a little noisy in that gear.

Then, at about mile twelve, my friend's chain started to fall over the top of his tallest gear, almost causing him to crash.  I was able to adjust the stop screw, mess with the adjustment barrel and get his bike operating correctly.  During this time I noticed his front tire was a little low.

I had just one tube, he had none.  He didn't have any air, I thought I had just enough to fill up one tire and then perhaps top off another.  We were a good 7 hilly miles from cellphone signal.  I took a chance and inflated his tire.

Of course, his tire had a more significant leak than expected and we ended up swapping the tube anyway.  I was worried that the remaining air canister I had would be insufficient, but we were able to get him back on the road again.

The work we had done was at a boat launch at Pena Blanca Lake.  There are "facilities" there, namely, an outhouse.  I went in to get some toilet paper, to wipe the grease from my hands.  The world's largest wolf spider jumped out of the toilet paper roll, positioning himself beneath my hand as if to guard his kingdom.  His legs nearly spanned the entire roll of paper!  I'm not afraid of spiders, but holy crap!

We climbed back out of the lake-area, and hit some rolling hills ... they're really not rolling, more like straight up and straight down, about 100 yards each, five total hills.  They're fun if you're fresh, but rough on the body if you're tired.

They got him.

We decided to pull off at a gas station before the tough part of the ride and he was toast.  He almost crashed on his bike.  I ran in to get some food and water, and when I returned he was pale, slumped over and in obvious misery.  We agreed to take an easy route back and cut the ride short. 

Anybody that's ridden has bonked.  It sucks.  I've been there too many times.

It's really my fault.  I should've selected an easier route for the first try at this distance.  But, we rode a difficult section of this route on Tuesday without issue.  The difference was that Tuesday was just 20 miles or so.  

So we're limping home, grateful for the downhill ride back, when about 4 miles from the finish, his tire blows again.  This time, with an audible pop.  No more spare tubes, he had to get a ride.   (I didn't abandon him, but the details are a bit extensive and ultimately, uninteresting.  Just leave it to this ... the rescue attempt didn't go as planned either!)

I hit the remaining ride hard and felt good.  I think I'm almost healthy.  Lungs are clearing up and legs are feeling stronger.  It's going to take another few weeks to get back into shape so I can start training hard, but hey ... I'll take it!

The funny thing on the ride was we had talked about how we cannot control the outcomes of our efforts.  He shared that in his experiences, when he lets things happens he notices great things happening around him.  Today, I figured he'd struggle, but between the humidity and the lack of experience (he didn't drink enough on the route), he bonked.  Still, though, I had a great ride and a great time.

I'm looking forward to next time.  Plus, this way, I can ride again tomorrow.

On a side note, I was entertaining the idea of running a marathon in January.  I ran twice this week and my left ankle has a lot of soft tissue discomfort.  Unfortunately, it's not just when I run, it's all of the time.  I'll be patient, let things run their course, but at this point, I'm not sure I'll be able to participate in the two half marathons I've already paid for!

What was that about letting things happen again?

B A C K

 

Incontinence aside, it was much like a Lincoln driving octogenarian in the fast lane on a Wednesday morning...but it was a successful run!

I'd forgotten the disparity between how good ideas sound at different parts of the day.  At 7 PM, running at 5 AM sounds like a great idea, romantic even.  But I got out of bed, wondering what I was doing, did some jumping jacks, 5 little pull ups, 25 itsy-bitsy pushups, 100 crunches and ran (loosely using the word here) two miles.  

The last two runs involved pulling a calf muscle.  Today, calf was fine.  The past month I've had a pretty severe chest infection.  This morning, I didn't choke on phlegm.  All in all, a good start to the day!

And yesterday I rode my bike.  That wasn't as slow, but still a bit slow.  Both cases, the idea was just to get back into the groove again.  

Yesterday I posted my ride on dailymile.com.  Then, I looked at the training profile for the past few weeks.  This is what I saw:

 

Nothing at all.  I'm pudgy, out of shape, still a little weak from illness.  But ...

It's

Great 

to

be

Back

Summer Rebuild Program Week 1

During the month of June I will begin basebuilding for running while taking some time away from intense cycling.  I also want to drop some weight, by the end of August I'd like to be in the 180's.  The last goal is to build some strength in my legs by hitting the gym, probably more in July than June. 

In January I plan on running my first marathon and need to be ready.  I want it to be a great experience.

I am also teaching summer school, which starts at 8 am and finishes as 3 pm.  I plan on commuting on the bike, at least for as long as it's tolerable.  The afternoon temperatures in the mid 100's with some stiff winds, last week had 35 mph winds on Tuesday, may take some of my vinegar.

Here's how I plan a basic day.

5 AM: Wake Up Call
5:30:  Pushups, pullups, squats and lunges, then a run.
6:30:  Breakfast and shower
7:15:  Ride to work
3:30 PM:  Ride home

Monday was a holiday and Tuesday was a work day, no students.  Tuesday I needed to take materials and such, so I drove my truck, but did get in a short run and a 25 mile ride after work.

Wednesday morning I went on a run, nice and slow, just trying to get used to running consistently again.  When I went to get on the bike only to find a flat rear tire.  The first tube I used got pinched between the rim and tire bead and popped.  The second tube had a short valve stem, making it double tricky to inflate.  But, we got it done.  End result is that I had to fly to work, getting there later than I hoped and a lot sweatier. 

Since the ride to work is down hill, it can be nearly effortless, save a few small inclines.

Thursday I had a recovery run, nice and slow.  The ride to and from school was without issue.  Friday I had a faster run, pushing a bit and an easy ride to and from school, but the bike started acting up, shifting strangely.

Upon examination it was discovered that the chain had a link that was frozen.  Since the chain had about 2000 miles on it, it needed to be changed anyway.  Luckily I was able to pick up a Dura Ace chain in Sierra Vista on Saturday.

Saturday was an off day and I blew my diet...so much for losing weight.  Sunday I took the dog for her longest run, 8 miles in about 1:14. 

Then, I put the chain on the bike, cleaned and tuned it up, and hit the road for a test ride...when I discovered just how steep a hill not one mile from my home is...14% grade!  Whoa, that's some serious climbing right in my back yard.  I may throw that into some of the rides on the way home.  The ride was just 16 miles, which I wanted to get in to total 100 evenly for the week.

So week 1 I did a good job running, amassing 24 miles.  The riding to work went well.  The diet, during the week was superb, but Saturday I blew it on pizza and beer. 

This week I need to increase my strength training, especially with some core work and gradually increase some of the running.  For now, the runs are basically unstructured, just heading out for a minimum of three miles a day.

With that said, not much else to share.  I had a 5K in the middle of June, but I'm not sure how hard I'll run.  I've had a cranky right hamstring for God-Only-Knows-Why. 

Thank you for reading, sorry for the lack of adventure or jeopardy in the post, but it's been a while and I wanted to check in.

Rejuvination

The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.

Yup, that about says it.

My plans for May were simply to pound out some mile running since I would be finished with the bike race I'd trained for.  My body had different ideas.  I got sick, started getting weird problems like an infection in my ear lobe where I used to have it pierced.  It all pointed to one logical conclusion...I needed some down time. 

Reading some accounts of various people who didn't listen to their bodies and suffered monumental complications because of it, I decided to just take the month of May and enjoy life.  I did participate in a bike race last weekend, and did have a vigorous hike the weekend before that, but I'm taking it easy.  I'm sleeping in, mostly, eating loosely, and just not worrying about stuff. 

This week I managed about 14 miles of running, but two of those runs were excellent.  The first was on the treadmill (it was almost 100 degrees outside) where I just kept increasing the speed to get the workout finished.  I ended up running the last mile with a little incline in just over 6 minutes.  The second run was with the running club where we ran four miles with splits of 7:57, 8:00, 7:46 and 7:15.

And riding went well, too, though again, with low volume.  I had a strong ride on Monday and another Wednesday before joining about 90 other participants in the Ride of Silence. It was quite a strange experience riding along very slowly for about 6 miles in total silence with police escort.  The loudest thing I heard was my hub whirling as I coasted.

In the picture, taken from the local newspaper, you can see me in the white jersey, behind the person in the recumbent bike.

I've been watching the Tour of California and it's been very inspiring.  So, today I decided to get up early and hit the road on my bike before dawn.  I often have high aspirations in the afternoon that seem to be misplaced sometime during the night.  Last night was no different.

My uncle from Minnesota was visiting and a potluck was hosted at my grandmother's house.  While there, my cousins and sister busted out this very fancy portable espresso machine, so I had some.  The end result was that at 11:30 at night I laid in bed jittery.  The morning came quickly and I almost postponed my ride.  But with a projected 104 temperature, I decided to just get it over with.

My first experience riding predawn was great.  It was neat eating breakfast on the road, coasting hands-free in the cool desert morning air.

Today's ride was 50 miles of hills, with a few very difficult, but short climbs.  All told, the route had me climbing 2850 feet.  I saw one other cyclist and just a handful of vehicles. 

I spooked some javelina and listened to a podcast on "fastbacking."  How cool would it be to hike the Pacific Trail?  Dang ...

Because of the race last weekend, I figured that hitting some hard hills at the tail end of my rides would be a wise course to promote some strength and improvement on the bike.  So I ended today's ride with a jaunt to Pena Blanca Lake.  It's one of my favorite routes because it's scenic, remote, minimal traffic and challenging. 

The picture to the right is from a picnic area that overlooks the lake.  I'm taking a picture in the opposite direction where you can see the road as it slips between a few hills.  Eventually, the road winds up those hills.

On today's ride, I hit just over 56 mph on the hill that in the picture below.  Unfortunately you can't get a sense of the grade from the photograph.  But trust me, it's steep, lots of fun on the way down, lots of pain on the way up.

Another thing that has happened this week is that I suddenly feel fantastically comfortable on my bike.  I've owned it since early January and it's been a long time tweaking this and that, trying to get it dialed in perfectly.  But now, I'm confident to say, it's dead-on.  When I climb on the saddle and clip in, it all feels fantastic.

The bike is a 2010 Lapierre Sensium 400.  The bike comes nicely equipped with SRAM Force components, including brakes.  The bike is carbon fiber, but the handlebars and seat post were not.  I found a steal on some Easton EC90 handlebars that were special ordered and never picked up at a bike shop, and bought a gently used EC90 seatpost on eBay.  The wheels are Fulcrum race 5's, which are sufficient, but probably the next upgrade.

And one thing that really made me smile about the bike is pictured below:

That said, I'm going to enjoy my last week of easy workouts before getting serious in June and July.

Thanks for reading and I hope you and yours are happy and healthy and well.

What Racing's Done for Me

2011's Tour of the Tucson Mountains was my first athletic endeavor as an adult.  After just having completed this year's Tour of the Tucson Mountains, I thought it would be a good time to pause and reflect on what's happened.  Besides, I could use a bit of a pick-me-up.  I've had a lot of stresses lately that are really not worth the weight I've placed upon them.  I've been a bit sick, or something, and haven't been able to exercise much either.  So, I decided that putting this together would be a good way to remember and celebrate.

In the picture below, you can see the change in a year.  In last year's race I was in over my head, but this year, while I didn't meet my goal, I was rock-solid.   

In the past 12 months I've participated in 13 events which included a duathalon, warrior dash, two metric centuries and a century ride, one Pikermi, a trail Pikermi, a 10K and the rest were 5K's.  In the past year I spent quite a bit of time injured. I've had problems with the rear chain, from glutes to calves.  Part of the source is weakness due to being out of shape, but I'm afraid some of it is due to a back injury from 1998. But I'm patient, pay more attention to how things are feeling, and devote a lot more time to strengthening things.

One of the coolest things was mentioned by my brother-in-law last weekend.

He commented, "Isn't it cool that your dad, sisters and brother are now into running because of you?"

I would agree 100% if you crossed out the "because of me," portion because regardless of why they run, they run now for their own reasons, just as I do.  No matter who started us, we laced our shoes (or in my case, slip on my VFF's) each morning for personal reasons.

Below I've taken a picture of the bibs and medals I've collected this year.  I was surprised that I've earned 5, first in age groups and two second places (one I was nursing a bad hammy and was beat by like 5 seconds).  In all fairness, the 10K was REAL small, as was one of the 5K's.  But hey, I wasn't the only one in my AG, so it's legit.   

My favorite race was the first one, but I was an emotional wreck during and for about an hour after.  I was angry, sad, remorseful, proud, all at once.  During the race I faced a lot of things that had been bubbling to the surface during the previous few months of training.

My least favorite was my slowest 5K, 21:30.  I finished 3rd but led most of the race and just BONKED in the last half mile.  Had I run a smarter race, I'd have won.  

Either way, before I raced I had lost about 50 pounds or so in the previous 6 months, and another 40 to 50 since.  But I don't think I would've lost the second half, much less even kept off the first half, without racing.

Racing is my new hobby, and I love it.  It gives purpose beyond selfish and conceited reasons to exercise.  It gives me confidence and identity, both the quiet type.  I'm so glad I took the plunge and tried the first one.

Saturday I race in a metric century.  I'm a bit worn out and not sure how I'll do.  It's not a race I was sure to participate in until last week.  So I'll go, enjoy my time there, push as hard as I can and see what happens.

First Marathon ... Planning

Forgive me, it’s my first day and I’m a bit excited!  Yeah, I know it’s May, I get that.  

I’ve been reading, studying, thinking, planning, re-planning, reading, thinking, talking, listening, planning, re-planning … get it?

As I mentioned a few weeks ago, I want to run my first marathon in the fall or early winter.  The marathon I wanted to run is just three weeks on the heels of a bike ride I’d like to do well in.  The consensus was that it’s probably a little too close to my first marathon, unless I want to put up a bunny of a ride.  Yeah, I could plan on doing that … but I know myself.

I decided on moving the marathon from early December to late January, giving me much more time in between and allowing me to maximize my performance in both.

I planned the bike schedule as I normally would, not stretching it out to allow extra time for rest and also having to worry about doubling up long runs and long rides in one weekend.  Then I worked the weeks for the marathon training schedule (Hal Higdon) backwards, maneuvering different runs to fit around previously scheduled races, both running and riding, as well as leaving room for the tapering before the bike race.

And the timing, on paper, looks great.   I have the next three months to work on a running base, get that 5K goal knocked out (sub-20), and drop some weight.  After that, the bike training starts.   As I’ll get into the 200 mile weeks on the bike my long runs will only be about 12 to 14 miles, which I can handle.  

The weeks leading up the bike race will have one two-a-day per week, on Tuesdays, featuring a recovery run (which I could skip) and a bike ride in the afternoon.  That’s actually less than I have been doing as I usually do two, two-a-days per week.  

The longest run before the bike race on 11/19 is a 15 miler, which occurs in the first week of the taper for the bike ride.  I think that’ll be okay.  After the bike race is done, the next 8 or 9 weeks line up almost perfectly with the Hidgon plan, save the half marathon I’d like to run six weeks before the marathon.

Either way, this plan feels right.  I’m excited about it.  

Now to figure out what my marathon pace will be!

A Bit of a Special Day

Tunnel Vision:  (noun)

1. Defective sight in which objects cannot be properly seen if not close to the center of the field of view.
2. The tendency to focus exclusively on a single or limited goal or point of view.

Yeah, that's what people develop on race day.  It's supposed to be that way.

But after I finished my race today, I thought about what else was going on. I realized that it was a very special day.  My wife participated in a charity ride!  After last year's El Tour de Tucson, she talked to me about the emotions and feelings she saw in the faces of the participants.  She wondered what they felt, what they thought, what they had experienced.  It looked powerful to her.  Today, she completed the 27 mile course, her longest ride to date, in 2:12.  She's been having some problems keeping down water due to an ulcer, and hasn't been able to ride at all, save last weekend.

As she crossed the finish line I was there, with my parents, cheering her on.  She said, "I hurt in places I'm not supposed to hurt."

To sweeten the pot, my brother-in-law participated in the big ride today, 73 miles (they called it a metric century).  And, my father ran a 5K this morning with my sister.  My dad PR'd and won 2nd in his age group, my sister won first in hers.  Apparently they executed a reeling-in of a particular runner that my sister wanted to catch.

Last night my youngest daughter ran in a track meet, her final of middle school.  She's a bit saddened by the closing of that chapter in her life, but says she doesn't want to run in high school.  I spoke with her about it, tried to make it clear that I will support her in whatever decision she makes, don't really care if she runs or not, but that she is really loving the sport and should consider for her own reasons.

This is quite a special day (or weekend) because last year at this time I was riding my first "race" (really a charity ride, but hey, it's got a timing chip and you can beat other people.)  Anyhow, at the time, nobody in my family had done anything at all of the sort.  I wanted the challenge and along the way discovered how much fun they (and similar events) are.  It's great to see my family discovering the same things.

Racing is a whole different level of celebration compared to what we used to do!

As for my particular experience ... I wore the coolest socks in the race, hands down.

 

I got tons of comments from, "I've found Waldo," to "You need red pig tails to match!"

For the race I wanted to finish in 3 hours or less, but figured that with everything that's gone on, I'd be around 3:20.  What I discovered surprised me.

There's a lot more strategy involved with riding fast than running fast.  A lot.  Who you "go" with makes all the difference!  Let me explain.

While I arrived early, it wasn't early enough.  The platinum group (platinum riders have completed authorized rides within certain time limits, meaning, they're fast) lines up at the front.  Those that wish to qualify for platinum show up early, stage immediately behind them.  I was stuck around a bunch of people riding in tennis shoes.

My plan had been to start easy.  Now I'd have to fight through traffic and sprint around people.  To make matters worse there was a significant headwind to start the race.  Nothing crazy, but enough that moving along at 15 mph was work.  And since I wanted to catch people I had to go a lot faster than that. 

At the start I pushed ahead and tried to catch the group out front, but no dice.  The wind was too much.  Soon I found myself in a bad situation...alone.  Nobody around me at all.  That means that I was working way harder than anybody else!  The group I'd left was a long way behind and the one in front...just as far ahead.  Exactly what I didn't want to do.

I knew I'd burn up if I caught my target group (if I could) and get dropped anyway.  However, they weren't widening the gap, so I also knew that if I had started with them, I would've kept up.  Next time!

I slowed, as I learned in the last race, and a large group formed, and stayed together throughout the race, growing to about 50 people or so.  I just stayed in the middle unless the group stretched out too far.  Sometimes a rider that is getting dropped forms another pack, all of whom get dropped.  The problem is, none, save the front guy, know they're being dropped until it's too late!

This happened on hills.  I found that my hill training paid off in spades!  People were standing and pumping, shifting, dying going up the hills ... but I was calmly in the seat and passing people whenever needed.

At the hardest climb I found myself 3rd from the front of the group ... NOT where I wanted to be.  We crested the hill and shot down.  I was fresh and downhills, well, that's why we ride, right?  I soon found myself out in front, again.  DOH!  I had fun for a bit, cranked it out then backed off and got swallowed by the pack again.

I had gotten through the toughest part of the race without too much effort, though I was sweating.  And apparently, I was not drinking enough.

At mile 36 I cramped.  The same exact leg, same exact spot as the previous two rides I've done.  This time I had been taking electrolytes all week.  I brought salt tablets, took 4 over the next half hour or so and drained 2 liters of accelerade.  It kept the cramps from being debilitating, but it often felt like they were right there at the surface.  I punched and massaged the cramping muscle and rested as much as possible.  I also pedaled one-legged for a long time, even unclipping my left foot at a point.

I never felt right again.  I stayed in the last part of the pack, just ahead of those being dropped.  But cramps or not, at that point it wouldn't have mattered.  I had wanted to open up a bit after the climbing was finished, but the group I was in stayed about the same speed.  The other group did what I wanted to do and sped up as the course got easier.  They finished with a solid 10 minute gap before the group I was in...not a soul in between!

At the end of the race the pack filled all lanes of the road.  I wanted to hammer out the last two miles, but couldn't pass due to the congestion.

And they were slowing...25, 22, 20, 18 mph!  WTH!!!!  MOVE PEOPLE!

Finally I had my shot and said, literally, "Cramps be damned," and slammed it.  I went from the back of the pack to the front, slipping around on the far left side of the white stripe on the edge of the road, a strip about 2 inches wide.  Things thinned out with about a quarter mile left.  It was awesome because these two guys sped up as I passed them, that made me push harder still.  I left them behind, too.  That was fun!   I finished behind just a few other people but just a few feet.  I'd have caught them too with just a bit more time.

When I finished I felt great.  I was happy and off the bike had no cramping issues.  I went back to the finish line to cheer people and take some photos.

I think I have the conditioning to qualify as "platinum," which means you're fast.  I just don't have the experience.  I needed to drink more and needed to show up earlier.  I had a lot of juice left at the end of the race, too much gas in the tank really.  And yeah, while I had cramps, ultimately, they made no difference.  I couldn't have caught that front group anyway.

I think the cramps were partly fatigue, partly dehydration.  I drove over 150 miles yesterday, was outside a lot, and finally arrived at my in-laws' house (where we slept) just after 10 pm.  I still had to get everything ready for the morning, which came at 4 am. 

In the end I finished 120 out of 514.  The time was 3:20, making for an average speed of about 22 mph. 

I think I raced smart, didn't compound my mistakes.  I handled the cramping issue as well as I think was possible.  I definitely had a great time, especially at the end.  I had an even better time cheering on my wife and brother-in-law!  And hey, that's what it's about!  Getting outside, enjoying good health and competing a little. 

Race Day Strategy

That's right folks, tomorrow is race day.  Months of preparation and work, with tomorrow's performance as the sole focus, will be put to use. 

I am ready.

I am pumped.

I have a goal.

I have a plan.

The plan is to forget about the goal during the race.  The thing with time-related goals is that circumstances have to be perfect, and I cannot control or even influence those circumstances.  Will there be wind, will I get a flat tire, will there be accidents, what about the temperature?

It's best just to focus on my charges.

The race course is a loop, 73 miles.  It begins in the town of Marana, AZ, just north of Tucson, and heads south.  The first 10 miles or so are relatively flat, but the road surfaces are less than friendly.  Then there's a small climb and about 15 miles of slightly uphill with, generally speaking, terribly riding surfaces.

From there the route turns west and climbs for a few more miles.  Up until this point I'll hope to have fallen in with a decent group where I can conserve my energy and cruise along with my heart rate around 135 or lower.

On Ajo Highway the course peaks and then shoots down hill for about 15 miles.  That's where I'll open up a bit.   Eventually the course turns back north and is quite fast for a good 10 miles stretch before hitting very mild rolling hills. 

Once through those small hills I'll go all out over the last 8 miles or so.  The course lends itself to a negative-split because the first half is rough roads and slightly uphill.  The second half is much smoother roads and, generally, downhill, if not flat.

I've been taking electrolytes for a week and have eaten carbs like crazy the past two days.  I've slept as much as I can.  I'm packed.  The bike is tuned but needs a little washing.  Need to look good on race day, eh?

My wife is riding in the 27 mile event.  I'm excited for her and hope she has a good ride!

Unfortunately for both of us, today isn't really going to be restful.  I took the day off, but she could not.  Even so, I had to run errands this morning and will be driving 60 miles this afternoon to pick up the race packets.  Then I will drive 60 miles home, volunteer and watch my daughter's final track meet, then we'll drive to Marana, 75 miles north, to stay the night at my in-laws' home.  It'll be a trick to maintain proper hydration for sure!

Either way, tomorrow is going to be awesome.  I can't wait!

Totally Worth It

Pain

Physical exhaustion

Hunger

Ice packs

4 am

Fatigue

No beer

Blisters

Sunburn

Time away from loved ones

Tapering

Racing makes training worth “it.”  To me, the rush on race day, even if it’s just a last minute 5K, is unbelievable.  Seeing friends before and after the race, competing against yourself, watching family and friends run, being cheered (where else in adult life are you cheered?), the free shirt, the medals and sometimes awards, and of course, the free post-race grub.  Race day is awesome.

But for me, the biggest draw is more subtle than those things; yet, far more powerful.  It’s something that many observers won’t pick up:  fulfillment of hard work. 

I believe that humans NEED work.  We need clearly defined goals and obstacles to those goals.  Without such things, we go a bit mad and perhaps assign importance to trivial things.  In training for a race we have goals and obstacles and no guarantee of success, even if we do everything perfect.  How much better can it get?  Isn’t that real life?

This is the last week before Saturday’s race.  I’m tapering.  It sucks.  But I’ve had time to think. I’ve realized that the pay off, the fulfillment of that hard work, is far greater than the lowered time, increased speed and so on.  

I’ve missed a couple of long training rides and a few short training rides due to various circumstances beyond my control.  I’m not very hopeful of obtaining my goal of a sub-3 hour finish for a 73 mile ride.  Yet, I’m very upbeat and happy.  I can’t wait to lay it out and see what happens.

This is the one year anniversary of my first ever race or any sort.  The December before last year’s race I went on an incredibly long ride, 33 miles (it was by far my longest to date).  I was dying at the end, hurting everywhere and completely gassed.  A friend told me about this particular race, and how it was 73 miles.  I remember thinking, “How could someone do that?”  I spent four months figuring out just that!

During training last year I didn’t struggle with losing weight because I had so much to lose, there was a lot of room for error.  I started at about 240, 60 down from the previous summer.  I felt great, better than I ever imaged I’d feel again.

I didn’t struggle with time to train either.  I just made the time…nothing save a family emergency would get in the way.  I told my boss, “Work will put me in my grave, if I let it.  I’m not attending the meeting, I’m training.“  (This was a weekly meeting, I skipped them all save one because I was tapering that week.)

Now I struggle dropping weight.  But I think I have that figured out.

Now I struggle with time.  I’ve got the confidence to know that I’m devoted and that I won’t slip back into my old lifestyle and I can focus more on work. 

Last year I struggled with confidence.  Can I complete this task?  Will these changes be permanent? 

Last year I struggled with anger and disappointment.  On one hand I was proud and excited, often just surprised by the changes.  But over time I became angry for ever getting so big and out of shape.  I’ve had to forgive myself, and that’s been a hard thing. 

I no longer struggle with confidence…I got this!  How about issues of permanence?  The vast majority of people that keep weight off for a year keep it off for good.  See ya later, 100 pounds. 

Anger?  Yeah, I still have a bit of that.  I still am disappointed with myself for the past 12 years.  But it’s a fire that burns deep; it’s part of who I am.  I have regrets, that shows I’ve learned.  And at mile 60, on Saturday, I’ll be out of glycogen, and my body will be burning fat inefficiently and be ready to revolt.  But, I’ll still have fuel. 

So yes, on Saturday, whether I finish sub-3:00 or not, I’ll be happy.  I’ll be happy that I have the opportunity and ability to participate.  I’ll be happy that I DO participate.  Saturday, I’m going to hurt a bit. 

So totally worth it!

Funktown - Burned Down

It felt as if the wind had personality, and was angry ... at me.  It whipped me, pushed me, slapped me around for 80 miles today.  I took it, all of it, and never faltered.  I never thought of seeking shelter, calling home for my wife to come get me.  The wind punished me over the 3200 feet of climbing.  Climbing up the second to last big hill the signs warning of a winding road ahead rocked back and forth.  The trees bent steadily to the wind's insistence.  I loved it!  At mile 70, when I finally turned so I had a tailwind, I slammed down the gears, finishing mile 75 in under 3:00 on dead legs. 

Funktown -- burned down! 

I burned that funk to the ground...or, maybe I shouldn't take credit, but it's burned and that's the important part. 

Maybe it is because I had a hard, but yet relaxed ride Thursday, that reset my perspective.  Maybe it's because it's my anniversary and I'm very happy about that.  Yesterday we celebrated, low key, as is our fashion.  We went to the movies, saw The Hunger Games, with our youngest daughter.  Funny, but we've gone out as a family for our anniversary three of the past four years!  We just get along, I guess.

Maybe funktown burned down because of pent-up emotional energy.  This week our dog died unexpectedly (perhaps an owl got her).  My oldest daughter joined the National Guard (they can provide an avenue by which she can be a veterinarian), and has her first drill this weekend.  My wife had an upper GI scope done Monday and luckily her gal bladder is fine and she just has an ulcer.  

Anyhow, because of a stiff back and a very humbling route planned today (I love and hate this ride), I took yesterday off from all exercise.  I checked the weather last night and the forecast called for headwinds both ways of an out-and-back 80 miler.  Seriously.  Fifteen mph winds with gusts up to 20 heading east until 10 am, then from the south for a short time, then from the west from 11 on, all day the speed picking up.  Wow!

Maybe the funk is busted because I mentally focused last night, running through a check list of goals, items of focus and especially steeling my nerves for what lay ahead today.

Regardless, my average pace was very slow, 16 mph, but my effort and focus were as good as I've ever had on a ride.  I'm pretty charged up!

I did manage to take a few pictures today.  You can see them all here.  

The picture above is one of my favorite stretches of road.  It's on Arizona State Highway 82, just west of Patagonia, Arizona.

And old stone home I always love looking at.  It was built long before the two-lane highway existed.  How upset do you think they must've been when the route went right THERE!?

Yup, there's wine in Arizona...even a 5K that the wineries host where you get to sample various wines after the race!

An old abandoned ranch house north of Nogales, Arizona.

Some of the wild life!

The Santa Cruz River.  Not much water this time of year.

The picture above is taken just before an OSOM stretch of road, when headed this direction.  It's about 4 miles of down hill....think 40 mph on a bicycle down hill. 

The picture below is Mt. Wrightson, which my brother-in-law and I will be climbing on May 5th.  I'm super-excited about that!  I've been wanting to climb that thing my entire life, just never have.

Here's how I set up the display on my Garmin 405 for riding.  A lot of cyclists apparently hate it, but this shows me what I need, HR, cadence, and speed.  A HR of 108 means I'm obviously not working real hard while taking pictures! 

A Riding Report

Anybody that's trained for an event has hit this point...I'm not physically tired, just tired.  The routes are old, there's not a huge desire to climb on the bike.  I've been riding a lot, been through a 60 serving tub of Accelerade in the past month!  I'm faster and stronger than I believed possible, but that fact fails to charge me up, at the moment.

I figured that a good solution would be to ride a seldom-used route.  So I decided to drive to the town of Amado, Arizona, and ride to Arivaca.  This route I've ridden once as part of my first century ride, but today's route, since I'd drive to Amado instead of ride, would be just a touch under 50 miles.

My hope here is to share a flavor of the very unique pocket of southern Arizona that is Arivaca.  It's a full hour's drive from ANYWHERE.  Anybody that lives there does so on purpose.  Some are outcasts, socially inept.  Others just seek solitude and clear thinking.  Regardless, the people that live there, and in the outlying areas take a lot of pride in their community.  I could shoot hundreds of pictures of the little interesting things like an old hand water-pump mounted on top of a 20 foot pole in the middle of a field.  It's just funny, and cute.

Nothing to share beyond that.  Enjoy the pictures.

Amado is an interesting place, most known for the bar pictured below.

Also in the lovely town of Amado are the Cow Palace and the Amado Market, which has gasoline, but you have to pay the cashier inside, no debit machine on the pump.

If I had left early in the day, I'd have missed all of the wind, but as it turned out, I started just as the wind really started to pick up.  But I brought my camera and decided to not let the wind ruin my time.  After all, the return trip was sure to be a blazing fast ride.

One of the first things I always notice on this road (it's a favorite drive) is this huge cottonwood tree.  I often wonder how old it is, what changes have occurred around it.  It's a survivor.

 And how fun does that road beyond look?

Now apparently, the mailman out here is a Sasquatch, either that or this is a challenge to all major league mail-box baseball players.

Now I am patriotic, but not fanatic.  I am completely convinced, however, that the United States' flag is the most beautiful.  If it wasn't designed to look amazing in motion, it's a lucky coincidence.  This one has seen better days, but where would I be if all things tattered were discarded?

Here's another. Interesting side note:  Flags point the direction of travel of the intelligent.  I was going the other way.

Then there were these gardener/drinkers that decided to decorate their garden fence:

Now most of these pictures I took while riding, but the one below I actually stopped, turned my bike around and rode back to the sign.  If I was into sign stealing ...  it would be mine!

And today was over 80 degrees, as evidenced by the salt deposits I had after cooling off!

If you'd like to see the rest of the pictures, you can here.

The ride took me 2 1/2 hours, actually 2:32:13 to be exact.  There was 1500 feet of climbing.  The return trip took just under and hour's time, so it was very fast.