Commuting on a Bike

In May I ended up licking my wounds and taking some down time.  I ate a lot of food, ate a lot of bad food, drank some beer, drank some great beer.  I worked out when I felt like it, but only did what I felt like doing, when I felt like doing it.  I watched some bike racing and did a lot of planning for races in the winter and fall. 

I needed to recharge my batteries.

My charged batteries look ... pudgey.   :D

Now it's time to ease back into things.  I'll try to share my ideas without getting overly excited and biting off more than I can chew.

I'll be teaching summer school this year, 22 total days of instruction.  Classes start at 8 am and finish at 3 pm.  Last summer I commuted one full week.  It went well.  This summer, I'm thinking I'll do the first week and see how it goes from there.  Maybe I'll end up doing the whole thing.

In addition to commuting, I'll be doing a morning jog and my body workout routine.  My current training plan really calls for racking up some consistent running right now, just piling up some miles.  So if I have to chose between the commute and a run, the run stays.

Today was day 1.  I was a bit sore and disappointed from yesterday's run (I was sore and ran out of gas), and I was a bit dehydrated from yesterday afternoon's 100 degree, windy ride.  But I did a four mile progressive run.  I love doing those as they tend to fit naturally with how I run when alone anyway.  That is, start slow, and speed up.

Mile one: 9:51
Mile two: 9:03
Mile three: 8:06
Mile four:  7:37

Along with the run came with three sets of 25 pushups (I usually do 5 sets of 50) and three sets of 5 pullups (usually do 5 sets of 10).  Then some jump rope, one legged squats, lunges, then some planks.  It's a good routine.  Over the next week or two I'll ease my numbers back to where they usually are.

For this morning's commute ... it didn't go without a hitch.

Last night I packed my clothes, three day's worth, to take to work.  After showering and eating breakfast I go to hop on the bike only to find a flat tire.  Ugh.  I swap the tube, punctured the replacement with the paddle, and started over again.  Running a little late when driving isn't a big deal.  Running late while riding, well, is.  Not only do I have to ride harder, making a stink of myself, I require more time to clean up and change for work!

But all went well.  It's just a 6 mile, downhill ride, which I completed in just over 15 minutes.

On the way home it was 100 degrees, again (going to be 105 Friday), so I took my time arriving home 22 minutes later.  Home is definitely uphill, though without any major climbs.

That's all there is to report for now.   But I'm back at it again and will be updating more frequently once more.

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.

Nogales Bicycle Classic RR

The atmosphere in the peloton was friendly, warm, familiar.  Everybody, save me, knew one another.  Old friends would put their hands on another's shoulder and talk with an intimacy born through knowing and accepting another over decades.

And like conversations between old compadres, the race intensity ebbed. Sometimes people would surge, stretching the pack thin, then it would slow and grow wide and comfortable.

This is how the race went for 40 miles.  Sometimes we'd fly along at 35, sometimes at 22 mph.

Then, for reasons I didn't understand, it got quiet, dark. The group tightened.  It was as if something ominous was about to transpire.  

A battle was taking place with strategies I failed to comprehend and techniques I failed to recognize.  Mistakenly, I thought the 1200 feet of climbing in final 5 miles would do me in.  I wanted to hang on until then, and then see who was best prepared.

The race was the Inaugural Nogales Bicycle Classic.  This is the town's second attempt at hosting a cycling event.  The first date was postponed due to low participation.

I was hesitant to sign up as it came on the heels of a big race and during a very busy time of the year.  Beyond that, to put it delicately, I had an stomach bug for 10 of the previous 14 days.  I hadn't ridden my bike in two weeks, and the few runs I had were amazingly slow and difficult, leaving me inexplicably sore for days.  But I want this event to be successful, so I joined. 

Being a small race, I could easily place or come in last.  I had hopes of placing, but my real goal was just to finish in less than 3 hours, even if I couldn't keep with the fast group.  As I mentally prepared, I visualized falling in with the fastest group and trying to conserve energy where I could.  Fifty-five of the route's sixty miles cover my routine rides.  I imagined where I could catch my breath and where I would have to push hard.  But, also recognizing my lack of preparation, I told myself that if I was dropped, I'd just enjoy the rest of the ride and have a good time.

Like the last race, the day before race day this time was anything but ideal.  I never sat down at home, save breakfast.  I worked, had an emotionally taxing day, ran errands in the afternoon, and then attended my oldest daughter's final high school band performance.  When that was finished, I got home, prepared my bike and clothes, took a shower and hit the sack for a fitful night of sleep. 

In the morning I woke up tired and achey.  The quick 15 minute drive to the race was a real treat.  I usually have to drive 60-plus miles. Once there, I soon discovered my jacket wasn't needed for a warm up ride, it wasn't at all cold, even at 6:30 am.  That concerned me.

As I sat in the chute watching the clock count down, I glanced at my heart rate on the Garmin.  It read, 96, 97, 98 ...  excitement!

Count down ... race.

As you can see, there's a pretty nice climb to start the race, then it's a nearly uninterrupted shot downhill for 25 miles!  How sweet is that?

Down the first hill my Garmin recorded an average moving speed just over 40 mph on the first mile, and just over 38 on the second.  The top speed was 58 mph!  I'm not sure if that's accurate, seems incredible to me.  But, it was definitely too fast to look at the clock!

 At mile 14 it was my turn to pull.  I had my good luck socks on!  As you can see, the mood is relaxed and friendly.  I was excited to see my family (oldest daughter took the pictures) on the side of the road cheering!  They'd let the group pass, then drive ahead and find another place to cheer and photograph.  In fact, the public support and aid stations were superb!  A lot of people came to watch. 

Around mile 35 it grew warm.  There was a headwind as we started to climb back up to Nogales.  I made sure to slip to the middle or back of the pack, conserving my energy.

Then the eventual winners started doing something I'd not experienced.  They would sprint ahead, spreading the pack.  Some people couldn't match the pace would fall behind.  After creating an insurmountable gap for those dropped, the lead group would slow down.  The conversations died, the group tightened and dwindled from about 30 down to 15 or so.  It was all fun for the first 40 miles, but the next 20 would be racing, no doubt about it!

Had I known what was happening sooner I could've been smarter and kept up without full out sprints.  But I never tried to hang with fast guys before.  I was ignorant of such tricks.  I thought it was just foolish riders that would burn themselves out.  I didn't realize they were trying to burn me.  Falling into the trap, I'd ease in the back of the group hiding from the wind, then have to sprint forward, slipping between slower riders as the sprints continued.  I should've stayed near the front and just tailed them when they left, instead of having to sprint alone.

Eventually there was a huge sprint and I got stuck behind some riders that were getting dropped.  I crossed into the far lane and just slammed it, breaking 35 miles an hour on flat ground to catch up!  That pretty much sealed my fate.  

In the picture to the right you can see the first three placing riders employing this strategy.  I'm stuck in the pack behind these guys about to make my sprint.

In the picture below I am moving to the outside to execute my biggest sprint.  

 

As we turned and went within a mile of my house I hit the wall.  I was cooked earlier but didn't realize it.  I slowed to form group of slower riders, but only three came.  I fell in with them and we worked together, riding in single file, taking short turns at the front.  We actually started closing the gap.  But I knew what lay ahead.  And the rolling hills ushered in some wonderful cramps.

Now knowing my chances of placing were now truly gone, I did as I practiced (mentally) and slowed down, trying to rest a bit for the big hills at the end.     

I finished the last 6 miles alone.  I worked through the rolling hills and then began the real climbs.  I was very concerned on three occasions that I lacked the strength to climb the hills.  I worried I was going to have to walk!  Steady and slow I went, only standing and pulling hard when it was required by gravity.  At one point I pushed so hard, at such a slow speed, I almost pulled a wheelie.  My average pace through those hills was about 10 mph, sometimes dipping as low as 5 mph.  

I came in at 2:57:57, in 11th place, just over 9 minutes behind the winners.  My name was called out and people cheered as I crossed the finish line.  A volunteer walked over with a cup of gatorade and ice for me and another came with a banana.  I stretched, shook hands with the three people I rode with for a while and cooled down.

Everybody asked where I lived and then, after realizing I'm a local, commented it was strange not having seen me riding before.  The winning rider came over and introduced himself.  He complimented me on my form and cadence.  He said he had been watching me during the race and liked how smooth and easy I was on the bike.  That made me feel good.

It was certainly the best bike race environment I'd been a part of.  I'm really hoping that the event is held again next year.  All told, there were just over 140 participants for the three distances, 10, 40 and 60 miles.  They organizers were very happy with this turnout.  I hope that's a good sign!

The Nogales Bicycle Classic far exceeded my expectations.  The support, both by sponsors and volunteers, and especially those just cheering, was fantastic.  The participants were outgoing and friendly.  The route was beautiful, roads in excellent condition, and it was very apparent that the organizers really cared about our experience.

I came away feeling charged and motivated to train harder this coming fall.  I found out that I can hang!  I will seek out other riders in the area and hopefully train with them.  Until then, I am going to take a couple of weeks off to rest and recover.

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.

No Way to Make My Monthly Goal ... and I'm Happy!

After a metric century last weekend, and another one this coming weekend, with a nice mountain climb sandwiched in between, there's no way I'm realistically going to hit my 150 miles running this month.  I'll still give it the old college try, as it were, but whatever.  The point of being healthy is the ability to enjoy things like this. 

Example #1 of enjoying good health was today's activity.

My brother-in-law, Gene, and I hiked Mt. Wrightson, a 9453 foot peak that dominates the local skyline, at least within a 60 mile radius of its granite peak.  It's rumored that back in the days of clean air and polyester (1960's), one could view the Gulf of California from its peak!  (Today we had no such luck, the air quality was quite hazy due to high winds.)

The endeavor was in great doubt as Wednesday and Thursday I was struck with a strange lethargy...I didn't feel sick, but had an unbelievably low energy level, a sick stomach (to play a role later today), and was in as foul of a mood as I've ever experienced without cause.  To make things worse, I was super sore from just 10 miles of SLOW running over three excursions.

Friday morning I thought, "You get all the rest you need when you're dead," and said I'd the mountain a shot on Saturday morning.

I left home at 5 AM, drove to the mountain.  On the way up Madera Canyon (which is a crazy-bicycle ride climbing 3,500 feet in about 12 miles) I saw a group of three wild turkeys, pictured here.

 We headed up the trail, taking the short route, 5.4 miles to the peak, climbing a bit over 4,000 feet.  It was cool, and got colder as we climbed.  As we made it to Josephine Saddle, I was reminded of the boys that died on the mountain in the late 50's during a freak November snow storm.  I attended a speaking by a woman who wrote a book to record the story.  She was the younger sister of one of the survivors, and the entire event left a huge impression upon her.  As she aged she realized that the adults involved were dying and many of the artifacts and stories were disappearing, so she collected the information and wrote the book, "Death Clouds on Mount Baldy."    Here's the memorial:

We climbed for hours in the shade of the mountain.  As we climbed, the temperature dropped steadily.  As you can see here, we weren't dressed for it!

The views were AMAZING, way better than my little pocket camera could capture.

Before even reaching the peak we were significantly higher than the next highest mountain, which is in the same range, Mt. Hopkins, sporting a huge observatory.

Once at the top, the wind was CRAZY!  The view, while obscured by dust in the air, was still great, with vistas much farther than my camera captured.  In the picture below you can see where the water flows during the summer monsoons.  When down on the valley floor, one would have no clue!

As we hit the summit a voice said, "Did you see the bear?" 

It came from an elderly man that rested unseen against the remains of a former look out tower, or some such structure. He said we walked right past it.  Ugh...we talked about how we'd both would love to see a bear!

Talking to the man, he's climbed the mountain each weekend of the month, only failing to summit one weekend due to 6 foot snow on the trail.  How cool is that?

Soon another man, a bit older, joined us, then a pair of trail runners.  It was my first experience sharing a peak with someone not in my party.  But, it was nice and they took our picture.

On the way down, we both suffered greatly.  We both rode in a race last weekend, and our thighs were greatly taxed, and thus our knees grew tired.  For me, I always run in toe-shoes and my trail running shoes beat my toes to a pulp.  They're truly sore!

On the way down, the light was better for pictures, and it finally warmed up.  By the time we finished (due to dead thighs, the downward trip took longer and was more taxing than the trip up), it was quite warm.

On the way down, Gene's knee really hurt.  It slowed him greatly.  Mine hurt too, but my stomach began to really hurt.  I mentioned the stomach problems earlier in the week...well, I can't say anything delicately beyond I was happy to have brought toilet paper.  It was tricky though because there were lots of hikers on the trails and the slopes were incredibly steep just off the trail.  I've never had a problem like that and don't wish that on anybody!

As we approached the bottom of the trail we found a very young horned lizard (we call them horny toads).

I've known Gene since I was 14, and he was about 9.  His sister, now my wife, caught a horny toad and I traded her a poem I'd written for the lizard.  I kept it in a dresser drawer for a day and brought it back to her house the following day.  Gene wanted to hold it, I didn't want him to, and held my arm up high so he couldn't reach it.  He knocked my arm and the horny toad fell to the ground and out popped a bunch of babies!

We relived that moment while studying this little fellow.

All told, it was a GREAT day.  I will definitely be returning to these trails to do some training and running once I'm fresh and rested.  For those of you that are trail runners, how does this look:

I hope those reading had a wonderful Saturday and are, like me, enjoying good health.  I leave with a picture of me on the top of the mountain, that reminds me of the cover of "Born to Run."

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!

Feels Good to Run Again

I was "running late" this morning.  The alarm went off at 4:15 am, but I didn't get up ...nor did I hit snooze!  At 4:55, I finally woke and thought about ditching the run entirely.

I'm glad I ran.  I cut it short by a mile, running about 3 instead of 4.  It was my first run in three weeks, and the first morning run ever with my dog.  I felt great afterwards and had a good day, probably better than if I didn't run.

Taking the dog provided some adventure.  Some dude was walking three dogs, all without a leash.  I ran past him, going up the hill.  At the top of the hill I turn around.  Passing him the first time wasn't too much of an issue, but on the way back, two of his dogs charged us.  I charged back and yelled.  The dogs do what dogs always do, turned around and hauled butt!  So, nothing happened, but still...

My street is a cul de sac that shoots off a through street which is a mile and a half long.  So I run up to one end, turn around, run to the other, and then home for a nice 3 mile run.  It's a bit hilly for a perfectly easy jog, climbing something around 250 feet or so, but there's no traffic really and it's quiet.  At each turn around I swing around the stop sign and smack it.  It's how I roll...I'm feeding the beast, that's the dinner bell.

The dog ... she didn't like that, AT ALL.  Poor thing, I scared her out of her wits the first time I did it!

Otherwise, she did great on the run and I'll take her again this afternoon.

Along with the run I did my normal morning routine which accumulates 40 lunges, 20 one-legged squats, 150 pushups and 30 pull ups.  I didn't do any core work as I want to do the ab of the day stuff this afternoon, along with my remaining 20 pullups and 100 pushups.

My run was easy, finishing the 3.14 miles in just a tad over 28 minutes.  My ankle was stiff (old injury) and my thighs were a bit dead from Saturday's race, but regardless, I'll be somewhere around this pace on a lot of my runs in May.

This afternoon I did my www.randomabs.com workout, finished up my pushups, pullups, lunges and one-legged squats, then went out for an afternoon run.  I took the dog again as she was obviously NOT taxed...she got out of the yard, twice!

It was a bit warm for the pooch, 83 degrees, so we slowed our pace to match.  That's fine with me.  I did finish the last quarter mile at sub 7 mm pace, nice and smooth.  That felt good.  The afternoon run was a bit over 4 miles in about 38 minutes.

I hadn't run while tapering for the bike race.  Today it felt so good to be back.  Let's see what tomorrow brings!

And May is Feed the Beast Month, so consider meal one as served!