Everything was going hunky-dory: I was training well, riding well, but after a five-hour ride last Saturday I got sick and now, five days later, I feel no better. So, what's to write about? How about crashing? Why not?
I decided to write about crashing when I saw Pops Montano wearing numerous scabs on his face and forehead. He was descending Snake Road, feeling great, swooping around turns on a sunny day with dry road surface, taking things pretty aggressively, when he found himself skidding on his side and face across the road. It was a little painful to look at him. I'm sure it's purely coincidental, but as far as I'm concerned Montano Velo is cursed with cycling faceplants. First it was Jason Montano, back when he worked for Robinson's Wheel Works, getting his front wheel caught in a storm grate. Then it was Jonathan, crashing on Euclid and proudly wearing an enormous scab on his forehead. Now Pops. And two days ago, it was Andre Greipel, losing his handlebars during a warm-up for a team time trial in Tirreno-Adriatico and, as he elegantly described it: "I basically braked with my face." OK, this was unrelated to Montano Velo, but topically timely nonetheless.
Facial wounds are visible results of the crashes. Many of us carry scars on hips, elbows, shoulders and knees, that others don't see. But we do not forget. I've never face-planted or face-skidded, but under my clothes, I wear marks of many cycling-related falls. I say cycling-related because one of them, I acquired when I wasn't riding -- the first one. Here are tales of those I remember:
1. Walking down the stairs of my apartment building in St. Louis in my cycling shoes, carrying the bike. On the lowest flight, I slipped and fell, the bike bumped the stairs, came up and hit me in the mouth. I still bear the scar of that slip-slide on the lower lip. Since I was a very new cyclist at that time, the incident knocked the desire to ride out of me for a good few weeks. I guess this is a visible result of a bicycle-related fall, after all.
2. Also in St. Louis, I failed to unclip at a traffic light and fell over at nearly zero miles an hour. No injuries, save for the bruises to my ego.
3. First road rash. West Los Angeles, Summer of 1987. Going at over 20 miles an hour eastbound on busy Sunset Boulevard, I hit a pothole and went flying. Lucky thing I didn't get run over and didn't break anything. This was my first real crash. A friendly motorist gave me a ride home. I spent a small fortune a drug store, then went to a bike shop to buy replacement bar tape and there received compliments on my road rash from a shop employee. This was the first time I heard the term. If only it were the last...
4. Pinehurst Quintet
(a) Going down North Pinehurst, through Canyon toward Moraga on a fairly flat portion of the road, I overcooked a left turn on a wet road, riding about 25 mph. The bike began to slide while it was still upright, I pointed the front wheel in the direction of the skid and I thought I "saved it." I did not save it. The result was left hip and elbow raspberries.
(b) Descending South Pinehurst from Redwood to Moraga, I slipped on wet redwood needles. For some reason, immediately after that crash I felt like a real cyclist and I was proud to remount and ride home fairly strongly, thinking of myself as akin to Paris-Roubaix racers, who crash in the mud, yet continue racing.
(c) Off-camber right turn on North Pinehurst less than 100 yards from Skyline. Not sure what happened, but as I got my bearings and looked around, I saw a shredded cycling glove and a busted bike computer, so I had company. Minimal road rash, but a fairly mangled finger that didn't bend too well after the pain went away. Range of motion returned after self-directed physical therapy.
(d) South Pinehurst from Redwood toward Moraga, at about the third turn from the top. The road was wet and I was descending fairly cautiously, but my rear wheel just washed out below me. As I slid down the hill, I thought: "I am sliding for an awfully long time. This is going to be some road rash!" The fact that I had the time to think that just gives you an idea of how long that slide was. And the rash was enormous. As always, the tear in the shorts was the size of the quarter. If we had coins commensurate with the size of my raspberry, it was have been worth at least $50.
(e) I was following my friend Ted up North Pinehurst. At the upper hairpin, he stood up, slowing dramatically. I rode into him and went down at about 5 mph. I was more mad at him than hurt.
5. Unhappy Valley Duo
This sucked in a big way. I was riding to a deposition in Concord. I came up Sundown Terrace and turned right to descend Happy Valley Road into Lafayette. It was a foggy day and the road was wet (is there a common thread here?) and I went down on my left side as I went into the first turn. Ow, ow! It hurt, but not too bad. I straightened the handlebars and remounted, intending to continue riding to the deposition. Crept super-carefully down the hill. There's a steep but wide hairpin at the bottom, where a construction crew was building a house. Unfortunately for me, that meant cement dust. Cement dust on a wet road. I had no chance and crashed on my right side. That really hurt. Pain on both sides, bleeding fingers and who knows where else I was bleeding under my clothes. You can imagine: elbows and hips, of course. Not going to the deposition now. Rode very gingerly to Lafayette BART station, got off the train at Rockridge, and rode home. I stiffened considerably during the BART ride, so riding home hurt a lot. Got home -- oh and my daughter Sophie was about three months old then -- so as I came into the house, I said: "Daddy go boom... and boom."
Showered, taped myself up as well as I could and lay in bed. I was a mess and a wreck. Fortunately, the deposition was uneventful and I didn't miss much. I got up an hour later and drove to Concord. For 10 days thereafter, I had to sleep on my back, which sucked too.
6. Disorganized Ride. This was a bad day in two ways. Marin Century in 2006 or so. I drove to the start with my bike on the roof. Drove into a carport to make a three-point turn and discovered that I'd forgotten that the bike was on the roof. The fork was fairly wrecked. I drove home in near tears, got another bike and drove back. Was going to ride the 200k, but now only had time to ride 100 miles. Rode angry. Got with some team paceline, which was fairly fast. I was going to blow through the first rest stop, but some idiot team member stopped right in front of me, blocking the road and leaving no room to ride around, so down I went. I was more pissed off than hurt. Got back on the bike and rode away.
7. Bike Path Fiasco. I was tired, coming home on Lafayette-Moraga trail, riding eastbound. There were lots of pedestrians and recreational riders on the trail. As I was passing a cyclist, she swerved left, bringing down us both. Then she had the temerity to be mad at me.
8. Two on the Ridge.
(a) The first one was impressive because I took a calculated risk (failing spectacularly, I understand) and because it was I had witnesses: Brian, Todd, and Mike Fee. We were at the very end of Skyline, where it turns into Grass Valley Road. There's an 80-degree right turn that without braking one would enter at about 30 mph. I am still convinced that a skilled rider can take that turn without braking. The problem is that Grass Valley is lined with eucalyptus trees and the trees routinely litter that corner with acorns. Well, I thought of myself as skilled and was confident and this was the day I would take the turn without braking, but it was wet (again! definitely a trend) and I hit an acorn......... The good thing was that the road is narrow there, and I spent very little time sliding across the pavement, discovering that it was much more pleasant to crash into dirt. I skidded into dirt on the side of the road and came to rest in a pile of eucalyptus acorns and leaves. This was my fastest crash, but it was my softest landing. Fueled by adrenaline, I hammered the rest of the ride pretty hard. I think we rode for another 75 minutes after the crash. First hour, I felt great. Last 15 minutes, I was really, really tired.
(b) Descending Grizzly Peak, northbound. It was a dry summer afternoon. It was warm enough just for a pair of shorts and a jersey. For a change, the road was completely dry. I was descending fairly sanely, enjoying the scenery. There's a sharp left-hander. Long ago, I could take that turn without braking, but that was very long ago and I think I only did it twice. So, I was braking. I saw a thin trickle of water across the road and decided to brake even more. Midway through the turn, I was congratulating myself on my safe riding, when I hit the trickle and went down with a thud. Turned out the trickle was motor oil, not water. I cracked my helmet on this one, but other than road rash, escaped injury.
9. Birthday Bash
This one hurt the most because of the occasion, my 41st birthday. We did "around the world ride" clockwise. As we rode from Orinda to Moraga, we came to a changing traffic light, so as we slowed down, we fanned out across the road shoulder a bit. As I drifted left, I hit a rock the size of a large fist, lost my handlebars, and crashed. I finished the ride, but the crash put a big damper on the ensuing birthday party, especially after my parents showed up.
10. And one near-crash: Sophie was less than a year old. We visited friends, who also had an infant. Jessica and Sophie drove there and I rode. On the way back, I was descending Skyline, going northbound toward Redwood, trailing Jessica's car by only about 15 yards, when I hit a pothole and lost the bars. The bike started oscillating pretty wildly. At that time, Sophie was in a rear-facing car seat, so she was watching this as it unfolded. Maybe she wasn't watching -- who knows how 4-6 month olds occupy themselves. But I think Jessica watched my gyrations. Somehow, I managed to grab the bars and bring the bike under control. That was exciting for all involved, let me tell you.
Then there was the time when Jessica was riding uphill behind me and I stood up suddenly -- and slowed down momentarily -- bringing her down........
Those are the crashes I remember. I think there were others but I don't remember them. As they come to mind, I'll add them here. When I think about them all, most were to due to overly aggressive riding, inattention, or stupid machismo. Sometimes, there's dumb bad luck too: the bike path, Marin Century, motor oil. Obviously, I could have avoided most of my crashes, though a few seem unavoidable. Considering I crashed a whole bunch of times, I am remarkably lucky to have not broken bones or required medical care beyond what I or my family members can administer. Having taken this inventory, I think I am going to take it easy descending from now on. As I realized during the 2009 Central Coast Double, I want to make it to the bottom in one piece.
Thanks for reading. Feel free to post comments with stories of your crashes.
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Friday, March 11, 2011
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
An Epiphany
I've been doing lots and lots of high cadence pedalling in spin classes at VeloSF, where I go four to five times a week. But I'd done plenty of high cadence pedalling in spin classes over the years, it just never translated to spinning on the road. This time things seem to be different.
In the past, I went to spin classes two to three times a week and rode on the road two or three times during the week, and more on weekends. Though I spun in class, I mostly mashed on the road. For this reason, spinning never became a habit. Now, I am doing five to six hours of high cadence pedalling on weekdays, plus riding on weekends. The difference is two-fold: (1) I am doing more spinning than before; and (2) spinning in class is not interspersed with mashing. As a result, last couple of weekends, when I've ridden outside, I've spun rather than mashed.
To boot, I just replaced the spider on my TA Carmina crank. The old spider had 110mm bolt circle. The new one is 94mm. The old chainring combination was 50-36. The new combination is 46-30. That's right, 30. My low gear now is 30x27. On Sunday, I climbed Glorietta Road westbound. The climb is short and steep -- about 17% in the steepest section. I climbed it SEATED, spinning my 30x27 madly at close to 7mph, almost giggling, as I went up and up. I had to lean way forward to put more weight on the front wheel, to keep the bike from popping a wheelie. I felt so happy when I reached the top, as if I got a new toy. Twenty minutes later I twiddled my way up Pinehurst, passing guys who were mashing their way up the hill.
I had read plenty about benefits of high cadence pedalling. I had seen racers zoom up Pyrennean passes at 15 miles an hour, riding at high cadences. I had understood that fast pedalling uses cardiovascular system over musculo-skeletal, keeping a cyclist's legs fresher longer. I appreciated that it's easier to recover one's breath and slow down the heartbeat than to get rid of lactic acid from legs or make cramps go away. I'd known all that, but putting theory into practice is a completely different matter. I tried spinning while climbing, but it felt awkward, inefficient, slow, and silly, so I invariably abandoned these efforts. It appears that it took a consistent -- and somewhat unintentional -- commitment to spinning in a completely different environment (Computrainer spin classes) that led to my body's and my mind's adaptation to spinning. I didn't set out to become a spinner. Spinning is simply what we do in class, and over the six weeks that I've been doing it, it appears that I've become a spinner without realizing that my pedalling was undergoing such a fundamental change. For this, I'm very grateful to VeloSF.
I used to view spinners with disdain. They were somehow less worthy, as if they weren't manly enough to turn bigger gears. Now that I've joined their ranks, I'll be happy to be insufficiently manly, but ride faster and remain fresher, as I abuse my heart and lungs rather than legs, as I climb.
.
In the past, I went to spin classes two to three times a week and rode on the road two or three times during the week, and more on weekends. Though I spun in class, I mostly mashed on the road. For this reason, spinning never became a habit. Now, I am doing five to six hours of high cadence pedalling on weekdays, plus riding on weekends. The difference is two-fold: (1) I am doing more spinning than before; and (2) spinning in class is not interspersed with mashing. As a result, last couple of weekends, when I've ridden outside, I've spun rather than mashed.
To boot, I just replaced the spider on my TA Carmina crank. The old spider had 110mm bolt circle. The new one is 94mm. The old chainring combination was 50-36. The new combination is 46-30. That's right, 30. My low gear now is 30x27. On Sunday, I climbed Glorietta Road westbound. The climb is short and steep -- about 17% in the steepest section. I climbed it SEATED, spinning my 30x27 madly at close to 7mph, almost giggling, as I went up and up. I had to lean way forward to put more weight on the front wheel, to keep the bike from popping a wheelie. I felt so happy when I reached the top, as if I got a new toy. Twenty minutes later I twiddled my way up Pinehurst, passing guys who were mashing their way up the hill.
I had read plenty about benefits of high cadence pedalling. I had seen racers zoom up Pyrennean passes at 15 miles an hour, riding at high cadences. I had understood that fast pedalling uses cardiovascular system over musculo-skeletal, keeping a cyclist's legs fresher longer. I appreciated that it's easier to recover one's breath and slow down the heartbeat than to get rid of lactic acid from legs or make cramps go away. I'd known all that, but putting theory into practice is a completely different matter. I tried spinning while climbing, but it felt awkward, inefficient, slow, and silly, so I invariably abandoned these efforts. It appears that it took a consistent -- and somewhat unintentional -- commitment to spinning in a completely different environment (Computrainer spin classes) that led to my body's and my mind's adaptation to spinning. I didn't set out to become a spinner. Spinning is simply what we do in class, and over the six weeks that I've been doing it, it appears that I've become a spinner without realizing that my pedalling was undergoing such a fundamental change. For this, I'm very grateful to VeloSF.
I used to view spinners with disdain. They were somehow less worthy, as if they weren't manly enough to turn bigger gears. Now that I've joined their ranks, I'll be happy to be insufficiently manly, but ride faster and remain fresher, as I abuse my heart and lungs rather than legs, as I climb.
.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
No Stinkin' Rest Stops
Last Sunday I went out at 12:30 with two flasks of gel and two bottles. One large bottle and one very large bottle. Initial plan was to do the zoo loop, the 42-mile south loop of Grizzly Peak Century through the Oakland Zoo, but as I was going out the door, I conceived of something longer -- either Fruit Stand, a 62-miler or Dublin Grade, a 70-ish mile ride. A couple of miles into the ride I decided on Dublin Grade, mostly because I'd done Fruit Stand, which David Newman affectionately calls "Fruit Loop" the three preceding weekends and it was time for a longer and a different ride.
We've had a stretch of wonderful weather -- dry, with high temperatures in mid-60s -- and last Sunday was no exception. It was a bit breezy in the hills, but calm on the flats. Two miles into the ride I caught Doug-the-Hair-Man, a guy I've seen riding up Tunnel since the early 1990s. He used to ride without a helmet, bib shorts over a T-shirt, mid-back length dark curls streaming behind. Now he rides a bit slower, so the curls just hang there, especially when he rides uphill. I caught up and we chatted a bit, then I rode off. Just as I reached the Grizzly-Skyline intersection, my neighbor Bob Lee caught up. Turned out he was doing the Fruit Loop, so I had company for a while.
I'm not sure if I'm riding faster than in years past or Bob is slower, but he used to make me ride just fast enough to be out of my comfort zone. On Sunday, I was still in my comfort zone, its upper edge, to be sure, but definitely still in it. We rode and talked toward Castro Valley. We had perfect riding weather and I wasn't riding too hard, so not sweating excessively, I didn't need to drink that much and I had more than enough gel. I thought, "why not try to do this ride without stopping?" My longest ride without rest stops is 50 miles, which I did on the last quarter of 2009 Mt. Tam Double. Seventy-five miles would be a significant step up. While I wouldn't have 150 miles in my legs before attempting the 75, I also didn't have the endurance base I had back then. Clearly, a challenge.
Bob and I parted in Castro Valley and I rode on toward Dublin grade. Eastbound, Dublin grade is a three-mile drag that starts out around 4% for a quarter to half a mile, flattens to a steady 2% for two miles, then steepens a bit for a quarter mile before it crests. My legs weren't feeling great, so I climbed conservatively and, as I gained altitude, the wind stiffened, making the climb more challenging. I decided to spin and see where that got me. Well, I was spinning 50x19 at 15mph into a headwind. The legs felt better, so I spun faster, going around 17 during the last third of the climb. Properly spent as I crested, I coasted into Dublin. My very large bottle was still a quarter full and the large was untouched, so I was optimistic that I had enough hydration and nutrition to get home without stopping, but would I have enough legs?
[I should mention that this no-stopping business excluded traffic lights. I had to make my first stop at a red light in Castro Valley and knew that there would be additional stops at lights on San Ramon Valley Blvd aka Danville Blvd.]
There was a steady 5-8 mph head wind on San Ramon Valley Blvd. I got into the brake hoods and spun. Drops would be uncomfortable on the back and neck and pushing a big gear into a headwind is a recipe for cramps. This position and leg speed seemed a good way to deal with the conditions. I was in the big ring and somewhere in the middle of the cassette, twiddling away. Spinning felt good and the legs recovered. I think all the high cadence work in VeloSF classes helped.
I thought I was making good progress, but I had no data to back up this subjective feeling because my computer's wheel sensor battery was in hospice care. I'd begun the ride with 2988.3 miles on the computer, but the sensor picked up data very sporadically. I was looking forward to turning over 3000 miles, but two hours into the ride my computer was still telling me that I'd ridden less than 10 miles and I had doubts as to whether I'd get to 3000 miles that day. But I really was making good progress, notwithstanding the half-dozen traffic lights, reaching Danville sooner than I thought I would. This was encouraging, as was the computer's reaching 3000 miles. I still had nearly a full bottle and just 25 miles to get home. More spinning from traffic light to traffic light, but now I welcomed these red light respites because I had a hard time controlling myself and was riding at a faster than endurance pace, flogging myself pretty good.
Got to Walnut Creek, turned left and left again to get to Olympic Blvd. which got me to Lafayette, where Olympic presents a cyclist headed back to Oakland with several unappetizing options: (1) Reliez Station Road -- a third of a mile at 13% -- then a descent toward St. Mary's Road, which is a 2-mile first false flat, then uphill drag to St. Mary's college campus; (2) Lafayette-Moraga bike path -- mostly flat but used heavily by walkers, joggers, dog walkers, and very casual cyclists, making it slow and potentially dangerous; (3) A quarter mile on the bike path, then a slow ride through a quiet residential neighborhood to downtown Lafayette, then a left on Moraga Road, a 1.25-mile climb on a very busy two-lane road to Rheem Valley in Moraga. I went with number 3.
My friends hate Moraga Road because of traffic. I love that climb and am willing to overlook the traffic. Most of the time, for me it's an aggressive big-ring climb. On Sunday, I geared down and spun. Never having climbed here in late afternoon light in January I did not know that I would be climbing into the sun. Coupled with fast traffic and a very narrow shoulder it was not a safe place to ride, but I negotiated it just fine, again riding a bit harder than my legs would have preferred, but what the heck, it was training.
I rode through the flats of Moraga then, onto Pinehurst, toward Canyon, where it must have been 12 degrees cooler and my stubbly legs became goosebumpy, which hurt. As I rode past the post office, a cyclist remounted his bike 10 yards before I reached him, and he set off at a brisk pace. Chase or not? Legs are OK, so chase. I caught him and passed him. He drafted. On the rise to the driveway to John McCosker Ranch, I rode him off my wheel and charged to the foot of the climb, where I lost my enthusiasm. Legs were good enough, but with 70 miles in my brain as well as in my legs, I did not have the motivation to do an 8-minute interval to Skyline. So, I called truce and sat up. He passed me and seemed to be pulling away for a while, and at times I'd lose sight of him. But then he appeared to lose interest too. We climbed about 25 yards apart, then I felt better and started reeling him in. At the top he was about three-four yards in front of me. I blew past him on Skyline, wishing him a good ride as I went by, and descended home.
Arrived home just before 4:30. So, a four-hour ride of 70-something miles without stops. After all that, the legs and the brain felt pretty good. I need to figure out a way to carry a third bottle on the bike and then I can go for an even longer non-stop ride.
.
We've had a stretch of wonderful weather -- dry, with high temperatures in mid-60s -- and last Sunday was no exception. It was a bit breezy in the hills, but calm on the flats. Two miles into the ride I caught Doug-the-Hair-Man, a guy I've seen riding up Tunnel since the early 1990s. He used to ride without a helmet, bib shorts over a T-shirt, mid-back length dark curls streaming behind. Now he rides a bit slower, so the curls just hang there, especially when he rides uphill. I caught up and we chatted a bit, then I rode off. Just as I reached the Grizzly-Skyline intersection, my neighbor Bob Lee caught up. Turned out he was doing the Fruit Loop, so I had company for a while.
I'm not sure if I'm riding faster than in years past or Bob is slower, but he used to make me ride just fast enough to be out of my comfort zone. On Sunday, I was still in my comfort zone, its upper edge, to be sure, but definitely still in it. We rode and talked toward Castro Valley. We had perfect riding weather and I wasn't riding too hard, so not sweating excessively, I didn't need to drink that much and I had more than enough gel. I thought, "why not try to do this ride without stopping?" My longest ride without rest stops is 50 miles, which I did on the last quarter of 2009 Mt. Tam Double. Seventy-five miles would be a significant step up. While I wouldn't have 150 miles in my legs before attempting the 75, I also didn't have the endurance base I had back then. Clearly, a challenge.
Bob and I parted in Castro Valley and I rode on toward Dublin grade. Eastbound, Dublin grade is a three-mile drag that starts out around 4% for a quarter to half a mile, flattens to a steady 2% for two miles, then steepens a bit for a quarter mile before it crests. My legs weren't feeling great, so I climbed conservatively and, as I gained altitude, the wind stiffened, making the climb more challenging. I decided to spin and see where that got me. Well, I was spinning 50x19 at 15mph into a headwind. The legs felt better, so I spun faster, going around 17 during the last third of the climb. Properly spent as I crested, I coasted into Dublin. My very large bottle was still a quarter full and the large was untouched, so I was optimistic that I had enough hydration and nutrition to get home without stopping, but would I have enough legs?
[I should mention that this no-stopping business excluded traffic lights. I had to make my first stop at a red light in Castro Valley and knew that there would be additional stops at lights on San Ramon Valley Blvd aka Danville Blvd.]
There was a steady 5-8 mph head wind on San Ramon Valley Blvd. I got into the brake hoods and spun. Drops would be uncomfortable on the back and neck and pushing a big gear into a headwind is a recipe for cramps. This position and leg speed seemed a good way to deal with the conditions. I was in the big ring and somewhere in the middle of the cassette, twiddling away. Spinning felt good and the legs recovered. I think all the high cadence work in VeloSF classes helped.
I thought I was making good progress, but I had no data to back up this subjective feeling because my computer's wheel sensor battery was in hospice care. I'd begun the ride with 2988.3 miles on the computer, but the sensor picked up data very sporadically. I was looking forward to turning over 3000 miles, but two hours into the ride my computer was still telling me that I'd ridden less than 10 miles and I had doubts as to whether I'd get to 3000 miles that day. But I really was making good progress, notwithstanding the half-dozen traffic lights, reaching Danville sooner than I thought I would. This was encouraging, as was the computer's reaching 3000 miles. I still had nearly a full bottle and just 25 miles to get home. More spinning from traffic light to traffic light, but now I welcomed these red light respites because I had a hard time controlling myself and was riding at a faster than endurance pace, flogging myself pretty good.
Got to Walnut Creek, turned left and left again to get to Olympic Blvd. which got me to Lafayette, where Olympic presents a cyclist headed back to Oakland with several unappetizing options: (1) Reliez Station Road -- a third of a mile at 13% -- then a descent toward St. Mary's Road, which is a 2-mile first false flat, then uphill drag to St. Mary's college campus; (2) Lafayette-Moraga bike path -- mostly flat but used heavily by walkers, joggers, dog walkers, and very casual cyclists, making it slow and potentially dangerous; (3) A quarter mile on the bike path, then a slow ride through a quiet residential neighborhood to downtown Lafayette, then a left on Moraga Road, a 1.25-mile climb on a very busy two-lane road to Rheem Valley in Moraga. I went with number 3.
My friends hate Moraga Road because of traffic. I love that climb and am willing to overlook the traffic. Most of the time, for me it's an aggressive big-ring climb. On Sunday, I geared down and spun. Never having climbed here in late afternoon light in January I did not know that I would be climbing into the sun. Coupled with fast traffic and a very narrow shoulder it was not a safe place to ride, but I negotiated it just fine, again riding a bit harder than my legs would have preferred, but what the heck, it was training.
I rode through the flats of Moraga then, onto Pinehurst, toward Canyon, where it must have been 12 degrees cooler and my stubbly legs became goosebumpy, which hurt. As I rode past the post office, a cyclist remounted his bike 10 yards before I reached him, and he set off at a brisk pace. Chase or not? Legs are OK, so chase. I caught him and passed him. He drafted. On the rise to the driveway to John McCosker Ranch, I rode him off my wheel and charged to the foot of the climb, where I lost my enthusiasm. Legs were good enough, but with 70 miles in my brain as well as in my legs, I did not have the motivation to do an 8-minute interval to Skyline. So, I called truce and sat up. He passed me and seemed to be pulling away for a while, and at times I'd lose sight of him. But then he appeared to lose interest too. We climbed about 25 yards apart, then I felt better and started reeling him in. At the top he was about three-four yards in front of me. I blew past him on Skyline, wishing him a good ride as I went by, and descended home.
Arrived home just before 4:30. So, a four-hour ride of 70-something miles without stops. After all that, the legs and the brain felt pretty good. I need to figure out a way to carry a third bottle on the bike and then I can go for an even longer non-stop ride.
.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Short-Term Progress Report
I don't know if it's my Computrainer spin classes, semi-regular core workouts, or the combination of the two, but my legs felt really good during and after last Saturday's 65-mile ride. Most of the ride was at conversational pace, except for two significant efforts. One was on about two miles of slight uphill of Crow Canyon Road from Castro Valley to San Ramon, where I drove the pace at near time trial effort. It was hard, my heart rate reached 178, but I drove until we turned off onto Norris Canyon Road, where I recovered. But I was willing to continue pushing the pace at a sustained, hard effort and keep going as long as necessary, though I was glad when it was over. The other hard effort was on Glorietta Road in Lafayette, which has a short, nasty steep pitch of 13-14%. I stood up and led my group of four in 36x19 gear. Again, it was hard, but I felt strong enough to climb it aggressively and pushed harder than I may have two months ago. Then, unbeknownst to self, I climbed Pinehurst in 36x19 and was surprised to discover I used that gear when I reached the top. I was tired and sleepy all afternoon and evening, but my legs were relatively fresh.
During the ride, I felt very comfortable climbing standing up, standing longer and riding more aggressively than usual. I attribute this to the Velo SF Computraner classes, during which we do repeated standing intervals of two minutes. After a while these intervals get hard, but it appears they serve me well on the road.
So far, after almost a month of Velo SF I am happy with the results.
.
During the ride, I felt very comfortable climbing standing up, standing longer and riding more aggressively than usual. I attribute this to the Velo SF Computraner classes, during which we do repeated standing intervals of two minutes. After a while these intervals get hard, but it appears they serve me well on the road.
So far, after almost a month of Velo SF I am happy with the results.
.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Going Nowhere Fast
I belong to Club One. I joined so I could go to spin classes. I didn't go to spin, preferring to ride outside. I paid $90 a month to not go to the gym. When the weather turned crappy I went to spin and discovered that my cleats were worn out and I kept popping out of SPD-style pedals. Replacing the cleats would be an enormous hassle because I retrofitted my shoes to mid-sole cleats and the cleats were practically glued in. Removing them might damage the shoes' carbon soles. Meanwhile, I found another gym -- a cycling gym. You bring your own bike, hook it up to a Computrainer, and train with power. Works great! I quit Club One.
To make training effective, it's a good idea to get lactate tested. So, I got tested. Start at 100 watts, stay there for four minutes, monitoring heart rate, rate of perceived exertion, and blood lactate level (blood samples from earlobe), increase resistance by 30 watts and do it again until lactate saturation reaches a certain level. Mercifully, this is not a go-to-failure type of test -- my mind usually fails gives out before my body does when I do those -- you go 8-9 RPE and stop. It turns out, my lactate threshold level is 200 watts, in other words, if I stay below it, I can ride forever provided I eat and hydrate properly. Good enough. Lactate saturation levels and heart rate are plotted on a graph against power numbers, allowing a coach to come up with training zones.
Armed with training zones, I go to VeloSF regularly and spin like crazy with a number of like-minded individuals. The vibe here is completely different from typical gyms. People are FIT and serious about cycling; there are no dabblers here. Coaches are serious national and international level cyclists and triathletes. You get feedback of power and speed numbers you generate in addition to RPE. Music is good -- coaches respect our ears and age and don't play garbage. Exercise rooms are air-conditioned and there are wall and floor-mounted fans to cool us down. All this is terrifically motivating, which is essential because the training is hard. I am completely wrung out after 90 minutes of structured work. I've been at it for two weeks.
I hope I am getting stronger. I don't ride super early in the morning so much anymore and I don't see my friends as much, but I get three hours more sleep on the days when I used to ride early. Also, I am doing about 15 minutes of core exercises three to four days a week. We'll see how these changes in training affect my doubles rides. I'd like to get PRs at DMD and at AA-8 or Terrible Two this year.
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To make training effective, it's a good idea to get lactate tested. So, I got tested. Start at 100 watts, stay there for four minutes, monitoring heart rate, rate of perceived exertion, and blood lactate level (blood samples from earlobe), increase resistance by 30 watts and do it again until lactate saturation reaches a certain level. Mercifully, this is not a go-to-failure type of test -- my mind usually fails gives out before my body does when I do those -- you go 8-9 RPE and stop. It turns out, my lactate threshold level is 200 watts, in other words, if I stay below it, I can ride forever provided I eat and hydrate properly. Good enough. Lactate saturation levels and heart rate are plotted on a graph against power numbers, allowing a coach to come up with training zones.
Armed with training zones, I go to VeloSF regularly and spin like crazy with a number of like-minded individuals. The vibe here is completely different from typical gyms. People are FIT and serious about cycling; there are no dabblers here. Coaches are serious national and international level cyclists and triathletes. You get feedback of power and speed numbers you generate in addition to RPE. Music is good -- coaches respect our ears and age and don't play garbage. Exercise rooms are air-conditioned and there are wall and floor-mounted fans to cool us down. All this is terrifically motivating, which is essential because the training is hard. I am completely wrung out after 90 minutes of structured work. I've been at it for two weeks.
I hope I am getting stronger. I don't ride super early in the morning so much anymore and I don't see my friends as much, but I get three hours more sleep on the days when I used to ride early. Also, I am doing about 15 minutes of core exercises three to four days a week. We'll see how these changes in training affect my doubles rides. I'd like to get PRs at DMD and at AA-8 or Terrible Two this year.
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Wednesday, December 8, 2010
I am a Cohen-head
A Leonard Cohen-head. Jessica and I went to his concert on Sunday. Had a fantastic time. The band was great. They played for over three hours. Our seats were good. The sound wasn't too loud -- the first time in my 30 years of concert going that I didn't feel I needed ear plugs. He played all the great old stuff: So Long Marianne, The Partisan, Famous Blue Raincoat, Suzanne, as well as the "newer" faves: First We Take Manhattan, Everybody Knows, Closing Time. Although we sat just thirteen rows from the stage I wanted to be closer. I wanted to be ON stage, absorbing the show as much as I could. So, when we got home I went online and bought a ticket for Monday's show on center aisle, sixth row. It was even better. He played longer, there was more banter, and the band was really, really into this show. The crowd was just electric and the band fed off our energy. As Jessica said, "on Sunday we saw an old man doing Leonard Cohen, on Monday you got to see Leonard Cohen." And it's true, from time to time, when he tipped up his fedora, I saw the man in this photograph. I saw a man in his mid-forties at the height of his artistic powers. Not bad for a self-described 76-year old "kid with a crazy dream." I am a Cohen-head. I hope he returns to the Bay Area, I'll take advantage of every reasonable opportunity to see him again.
P.S. Did I mention that Jessica's parents hung out with LC in Greece and New York in the early '60s?
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Monday, November 8, 2010
It's the Time of the Season for [T]Raining (and a new font)
First truly rainy ride on Sunday. Just 75 minutes in steady, sometimes hard and warm rain with Howie. It was windy too, so that on descents we felt like we were both sliding around and being blown around. Large raindrops stung my face on a 40+ mph descent of Joaquin Miller. After that I was completely soaked and done with the ride. We saw zero cyclists, which gave us feelings of moral and physical superiority.
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