Tom's Bicycle Thoughts & More...

Team High Performance Cycling Kick-off Meeting and Meet the Team Ride

2012-02-01T11:39:00.000-08:00

This Saturday from 3-5 PM we have the annual Team HPC kick-off party at Cycle U in West Seattle:

http://www.cascade.org/EandR/Activities_Calendar_RDetail.cfm?eventID=17194

The following day we have our first 2012 Meet the Team Ride:

http://www.cascade.org/EandR/Activities_Calendar_RDetail.cfm?eventID=17219

Forget about Super Bowl weekend. It even looks like the weather will cooperate with our Team HPC weekend extravaganza!

I am the team's Cycle U Head Coach. I'm also a team co-manager, along with David Longdon. Check out David's blog post for more info and a photo of some of us in our team kit:

http://blog.seattlepi.com/velocity/2012/01/31/saturday-feb-4-high-performance-cycling-2012-kick-off/

I hope to see you at the Kick-off and/or the Meet the Team Ride.

2011 Cycling in Retrospect...with Introspection

2011-12-31T18:03:00.000-08:00

At the very end of 2010, after ten years of living in Downtown Seattle, Tracy and I moved to Issaquah as part of an experiment. The City Mice became Mountain Mice:

http://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2011/01/mountain-mice.html

We’ve now been here a year, and we are staying. Issaquah is a spectacular base of operations for both road cycling and mountain biking:

http://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2011/01/eastern-horizons.html

I wasn’t focused on the raw numbers for 2011, but here they are: 8450 miles (quite a few less than I normally manage) and 532,284’ of climbing (over 500k for the fifth year in a row; not a goal, but maybe it should be). Quite a few of those feet of climbing were on the mountain bike, and I should apply a correction factor of about 2:1, because that’s about how much harder climbing on a mountain bike is than on a road bike.

During 2011 I counseled many athletes in my role as a cycling coach. Some were very fit and experienced people looking to take things to the next level, while others were simply trying to become athletes in their own eyes. I worked with a group of three women in their 50’s that were total cycling neophytes:

http://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2011/02/no-training-wheels-required.html

No, I wasn’t out saving the world, but it is incredibly rewarding to collaborate with people who are passionate about something and willing to work hard to improve. It’s a great feeling to help people achieve goals and to share in their sense of excitement and accomplishment.

To improve at anything, one must have both the proper physical and mental approach. I looked to my friend and local elite ultra-endurance cyclist Chris Ragsdale for some tips:

http://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2011/01/coachs-tip-mental-milestones.html

In May, I ran the second annual Cycle U Chelan Skills and Hills Cycling Camp, and we had 23 riders. Despite some uncooperative weather, the camp was a huge success:

http://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2011/04/attending-cycling-camp-can-be-great-way.html

2011 was a year during which I think I truly sensed my own mortality for the first time:

http://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2011/08/its-hell-getting-older.html

The major trigger for the visit to an Orthopedist concerned my right hip. For the last five+ years or so I have had some hip stiffness, but over the summer the stiffness got worse and I was sometimes in pain.

It’s hard to control all the variables and isolate what might have caused my hip to get worse. I took up mountain biking on a friend’s borrowed bike with a frame one size too large for me. I was riding a lot, and falling off a fair amount as a newbie. I sprained my right ankle jumping off of the MTB one day, and the right ankle sprain seemed to coincide with the right hip getting worse.

For the first time in my life, I had a doctor tell me that I had something that not only could not be 100% fixed, but that the best outcome I could hope for would be to “stabilize” the condition. Health-wise, I’ve been very fortunate, part by design, and I guess part by luck. I’ve never really been sick, I get a cold every three or four years, and I have had one minor arthroscopic surgery on my left shoulder.

To hear the doctor’s prognosis was rather shocking news, but I am happy to report that so far, Dr. Doom and Gloom’s forecast has not been accurate. My right hip is significantly better than it was in the summer.

Just as with the cause, it’s hard to isolate and analyze the variables that might be responsible for my hip feeling much better. Per the doctor’s recommendation I am taking glucosamine and I doing both stretching and strengthening exercises the PT showed me. I’m doing lower body work in the weight room. My new mountain bike fits me perfectly and I have gotten a hell of a lot better riding it.

I guess I could sprain my left ankle to see if my left hip developed pain. I could stop taking glucosamine and trade for a mountain bike that doesn’t fit me. Stopping my exercises would be easy to do. In any case, even if I do one of these things I still won’t know exactly how it would affect my hip because the other variables would still be intact. So I can’t take a chance; I’ll stay the course.

Perhaps the best adage of life is, “Don’t believe everything you hear.” I might add, “Or see, even with your own eyes, or read, even on the internet.” I intend to listen to my body even more closely than I already am. In fact, my body may be the only thing I wind up listening to. You damn well better believe everything you feel. From a friend in Northern California comes this very sad story:

http://bikecal.com/asp/columns-detail.asp?w=b&bRecNo=258

As always, my number one goal was to have fun on the bike(s), and I achieved that. I had a serious goal of becoming proficient on a mountain bike. Mission accomplished in my mind, but there is so much more to learn! Perhaps my lack of “discrete” goals for 2011 could be in part due to working with many people who had very defined goals. Now that I think about it, my major focus in 2011 was to help other people achieve their goals; I just didn’t realize it at the time. Or maybe I was choosing to live vicariously through others. Chris Ragsdale would be a great place to start:

http://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2011/09/chris-ragsdale-right-stuff.html

Looking back at all of the blog posts I wrote this year, I realized that I spent an inordinate amount of time dwelling on motivation (or lack of it), the absence of a competitive fire, and my general apathy towards riding really hard.

During the year, I came to realize that I was just not into riding hard on the road bike. Normally I challenge myself to set new PR’s on five local climbs as a way of convincing myself that I got another year smarter, but not older:

http://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2010/10/taking-care-of-business.html,

In 2011 I couldn’t mount the enthusiasm to even have a go at one climb. Not riding super hard meant that I never really got super fit, but I don’t know how fit I was or not because I lacked the motivation to find out. I struggled to figure out the reason for my lack of motivation (and competitive fire, normally itself a motivator):

http://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2011/09/hills-of-west-coast-catch-22.html

And I tried in vain to come up with sources of inspiration as well:

http://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2011/08/hills-of-west-coast-idolization-or.html

I searched for a higher meaning of competition and pride from a fellow Team HPC rider who happens to be a double Olympic gold medalist:

http://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2011/08/hills-of-west-coast-competitonand-pride.html

I thought maybe a solution (or at least explanation) could be derived from Tour de France actions:

http://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2011/07/hills-of-west-coast-tour-special.html

But then I remembered that these guys are likely aliens from another planet:

http://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2011/07/2011-chelan-century-approaching.html

One thing I knew for certain is that I couldn’t blame my inadequate or antiquated equipment:

http://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2011/06/metal-cowboys-its-not-about-bikeat-all.html

Finally, I looked to more esoteric explanations. It just couldn’t be me, could it?

http://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2011/07/hills-of-west-coast-fun-or-focus.html

I guess the bottom line for me in 2011 was just a general unsettled feeling, and a laissez faire attitude towards riding. I focused a lot of energy riding the mountain bike, and on coaching cyclists when I wasn’t riding. I had a blast doing so, and I have no feelings of remorse.

Tracy and I are getting married in March. We’re looking to build or buy a house in Issaquah. We’re digging in. And it’s no surprise that I’m thinking 2012 might be another great year on the bike as well.

Campagnolo The Italian Job

2011-11-07T17:03:00.000-08:00

Back in early 2009 I wrote about why I am so loyal and passionate about Campagnolo, the iconic Italian manufacturer of premier bicycle components. For me, it's not just about the gear, it's about the history, culture, and commitment of the company to a way of life:

http://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2009/01/campy-only.html

This month's Bicycling Magazine takes an in-depth look at Campagnolo and finds much to admire about the Italian Way:

http://www.bicycling.com/print/56888

Campagnolo has resisted the sell-out and remained private. They have bucked the trend and not outsourced and off-shored their manufacturing. Campagnolo employs well paid skilled craftsmen and remains family owned. Can the company survive in this era of cheap global labor and mass production?

Some forward thinking economists maintain that they will not only survive, but that the Campagnolo old school way may thrive in the modern economy. Perhaps even mighty Boeing can learn a thing or two from Campagnolo about manufacturing?

On a sad note (at least for me), Campagnolo has released their electronic shifting groups:

http://www.cyclingnews.com/news/campagnolo-unveils-eps-electronic-systems

It's much better looking than Shimano Di2 (but still ugly), and at least Campy has engineered some "feel" into the shifting buttons. Nevertheless, I won't be pushing any buttons to shift on my bikes.

HIT...HAT...FIT...FAT...WIT...WAT

2011-10-08T08:49:00.000-07:00

As I stare out the window into the early October mist, I am reminded as to just how frustrating it was to implement a consistent strategy for riding last winter. I design training plans for the athletes I coach based on their available hours, experience, goals, patience, and a myriad of other factors. Unfortunately I can’t control the weather, and the weather is often the most variable determinant of whether or not a training plan will yield the results we are looking for.

Last winter I taught a training plan clinic for High Performance Cycling team members:

http://www.cascade.org/EandR/Ride_HPC.cfm

http://www.cycleu.com/services/team/team_hpc.html

During the clinic, I discussed how to build the classic periodization style plan for the cycling year. Later in the spring (while winter was still raging), I came to the realization that I wasn’t even close to following the plan I had laid out for myself. Given my flexible time to ride and the possession of a “rain bike” (and willingness to use it), I knew that my athletes wouldn’t have much chance implementing the plans I had written for them. What good is a plan if it can’t be completed?

Normally our winters are mild enough for year-round cycling. Even so, there is enough variability that following an outdoor riding plan is challenging. This winter I'll be developing a HIT (High Intensity Training) program for people who realistically can ride between 4-6 hours per week (expandable with nice weather) with a maximum of four rides per week. The hard intervals that are part of a HIT plan can be done outdoors, but doing the workouts indoors makes a lot of sense.

A traditional volume based plan breaks down below ten hours a week. There simply is not enough training stimulus. At eight hours per week, a volume style plan can produce moderate fitness…and keep you there. In other works, the athlete plateaus and often gets frustrated with the lack of progress.

For people willing to tough it out through the winter weather for 10+ hours per week, I'll use a traditional periodization plan. Personally, I’m going with a HIT plan. Coming from someone who has spent a total of one hour on the trainer over the last three years, this commitment to indoor riding is quite a concession. I plan on doing a lot of hiking and snowshoeing over the winter, and spending less time on the road bike. I’m not sure how I’ll account for muddy MTB rides in my plan, but I’ll work around it.

In case HIT is copyrighted, I could call it HAT (Hard Ass Training), FIT (Fervently Intense Training), FAT (Fairly Aggressive Training), WIT (Winter Intense Training), or WAT (Winning Attack Training). On second thought, I’ll use HIT and run the risk of copyright infringement.

There have been a lot of studies over the last several years that demonstrate how effective a HIT strategy can be. Will it work as well as a classic plan built around volume of 12+ hours a week? Well, no, I don’t expect it to, but I suppose if you had no idea as to what to do with those 12 hours HIT very well could be more effective. Depending on the athlete, the goal for a HIT plan could be to prepare for a spring cycling tour or big event, Cycle U Chelan Camp, or to ride strong on group rides. For information about the science of HIT, search the internet for “cycling high intensity training.”

I think the key when time or weather limits training time is to maximize the quality and value of the riding that can be accomplished. With plenty of time for recovery, I intend to make every minute on the bike count this winter. Come spring, I’ll be doing those longer rides that I used to grit my teeth through over the winter.

Hey, if we get a week of dry 65 degree weather in the middle of winter, I’ll throw HIT out the window…for a week. I’ll get back to HIT when the next tsunami of rain hits, and I bet I won’t have to wait long.

Chris Ragsdale: The Right Stuff

2011-09-18T13:57:00.000-07:00

Back in June, I told Chris Ragsdale that I thought he would win the 2011 edition of Paris-Brest-Paris, a 1200km (745 mile) event held since 1891. PBP is one of the most famous ultra-cycling events in the world:

http://www.paris-brest-paris.org/pbp2011/index2.php?lang=en&cat=accueil&page=edito

PBP is held every four years, and officially it is a Randonneur event, not a race. PBP actually was a race until 1957, and amongst the lead group not much has changed. The competition is intense and ruthless, and a “win” is a very, very prestigious addition to any rider’s palmares.

For the nitty gritty details of this year’s PBP see Chris’s own account, as published in David Longdon’s recent blog:

http://blog.seattlepi.com/velocity/2011/09/02/ragsdales-paris-brest-paris-report/

Toward the bottom of the page is a link to a post-race interview with Chris. At around the seven-minute mark, the Master of Type II Fun (the kind that is only fun well after it is over) is asked if he will be back. His weary answer, "Give me two weeks and then ask me."

For a really interesting “on the scene” perspective on Chris’s ride, see this report from Damien Breen, one of his European-based crew:

http://in-the-saddle.com/2011/08/31/crewing-at-paris-brest-paris-2011-the-agony-the-ecstasy-the-falling-asleep/

Out of 5500 people who started, Chris finished 20 minutes behind the “winner” in 5^th place with a total time of 44 hours and 36 minutes. He managed this despite the fact that he rode 40km (25 miles) more than the winner. Do the math. If Chris doesn’t go off course due to a battle-fatigue induced rookie mistake, he would have ridden the other riders right off of his wheel and won the race, as he was almost certainly the physically strongest and mentally toughest rider there.

Did I pick Chris to win because he is by far the strongest rider I have ever known? No, of course not. How would I compare Chris Ragsdale to other elite level riders I know nothing about? It means nothing if I say, “Pick the strongest riders we have ever had on the Hills of the West Coast ride, and Chris could ride all of those riders off of his wheel and into the next zip code if not county.” You can’t compare top level elite athletes to mere mortals. Chris Ragsdale must have a heart that could have propelled Secretariat to the Triple Crown.

Did I think Chris would win because of his track record of winning multiple US 24 Hour Championships or because he holds the world record for 1000km? Well, certainly his record doesn’t define Chris as a dark horse. Whether the European riders knew it or not, Chris was almost guaranteed to be a formidable competitor, but I had no idea as to just how strong the other riders would be. I truly believed Chris would win the race because of a very intangible factor.

When I was twelve years old and learning to play golf, I had a chance to meet Jack Nicklaus. Watching Nicklaus address a golf ball in a meaningless pro-amateur event was an almost mystical experience. He just had a certain aura about him. There was a quiet confidence paired with an absolute focus. Case in point: Nicklaus was chatting with my friend Pat, who was caddying for his father while his dad was playing in Nicklaus’s group. But when he prepared to hit his drive and then stood over the ball, everything changed in a split second and there was this steely look about him that I have never forgotten. It didn’t matter that it was a pro-am; he had the same look of concentration as if he were trying to win the US Open.

For lack of a better term, I’ll just call this aura the “Right Stuff.” I think certain athletes must be born with it, as how else do incredibly talented professional athletes differentiate themselves when they all possess amazing and comparable skills? Just as with Austin Powers and his Mojo, it must be possible to “lose” the Right Stuff and only time will tell if someone like Tiger Woods can get it back. At seventy years of age, I doubt that Nicklaus has lost it.

With many top athletes, it seems like a certain “attitude” comes with the Right Stuff, but with Chris Ragsdale, there is no conceit or arrogance. When I saw Chris in June he looked even leaner and fitter than usual, and he had this certain look in his eye when I asked him about PBP. When I told Chris I thought he would win PBP, Chris humbly mentioned that there would be many world class riders at PBP and he hoped to learn from them. A lack of cockiness might differentiate Chris from many famous athletes, but without trying he just exudes a confident aura.

A few weeks ago, Tracy and I went to the opening game of the Issaquah High School football season. Neither of us had been to a high school football game since high school! We got there late, and sat in the visitor’s stands right behind the away team’s bench.

Toward the end of the first half as Issaquah racked up a 48-0 lead, I said to Tracy, “You never know if somewhere on that visiting team is a kid who still thinks his team can win, is determined to do so, and who still intends to win. He’s not down on his inept teammates, and is focused on winning singlehandedly if that is what it will take to enable his team to win.” If there were such a person on this team, a budding superstar in the making, he wouldn’t consider whether winning was possible or impossible, and he wouldn’t quit trying until the final whistle. You never know where people with the Right Stuff may be lurking.

People are asking Chris if he will be back in four year’s time to give PBP another crack. Who knows, but I doubt it, because I think by then Chris will have something else to focus on. That would be RAAM (Race Across America), possibly the most prestigious ultra-cycling race in the world. I’m betting that Chris will win this grueling race in his first or second try.

Why do I think Chris will win RAAM? Because he has the Right Stuff and he is not about to lose it.

Hills of the West Coast Catch-22

2011-08-28T17:21:00.000-07:00

Miles: 68.4 Climbing: 2579’ Route: Tibbets park—Avondale—Bear Creek—Maltby—Broadway—High Bridge—Snoqualmie Valley—Fall City—Tibbets Participants: 7
Attrition Rate: 1

Today’s ride was very mellow, perhaps too mellow. Perhaps…boring. We had a small and safe group and we rode another great route with minimal traffic. The terrain was rolling and so we spent a lot of time in pacelines. So what is my issue? For some reason, I’m just not as excited about leading the Hills of the West Coast this year.

Certainly, it’s been a big change starting the ride from Issaquah this year after rolling from Downtown Seattle for the previous seven years. Some of the downtown regulars still make the ride, and many of the new people have been extremely strong riders. It’s not that the different people have changed the ride, and the route possibilities starting from Issaquah are much more diverse and interesting than the old downtown routes. We’ve even had pretty decent luck with the weather. Come to think of it, it has absolutely nothing to do with moving the ride. I was starting to enjoy the ride less when we started from downtown.

Perhaps it’s not the HOWC at all, but just the nature of modern day group rides. Check out this article from the Carolina Cycling News titled “Lost art of the group ride”:

http://carolinacyclingnews.com/2011/09/01/lost-art-of-the-group-ride/

The author does an excellent job of describing the drawbacks to many group rides. While I strive to be different and do things more the “way things used to be,” I’m starting to think that this striving is burning me out. The great thing about a hard group ride with fit riders is that you have no choice but to become a stronger rider as a result. On the flip side, while riding solo or in a small group doesn’t replicate the competitive intensity of a hard group ride, you also don’t have to deal with the downside of the dynamics of a group. I wish that this article could somehow be required reading for any new rider wishing to join group ride.

Regarding my feelings about leading the HOWC, there are the intangibles. Perhaps I’m just not into the HOWC the way I normally am. I’m really enjoying riding my new mountain bike and am working on getting better. Honestly, (and I would never have believed this) many days I grab the mountain bike because I am so much more excited to ride it than ride on the road. While I still really enjoy riding on the road, jumping on the MTB inevitably brings new adventure to every ride. Not all the adventure is great, as I took my first not one, but two endo’s on a ride the other day. Nevertheless, riding MTB is a blast; it reminds me of riding to elementary school through the woods on my single speed coaster brake bike. Looking back, that must have really been an adventure!

And then there are the priorities, priorities, priorities. My eye has been off the cycling “ball” a bit anyway lately. Tracy recently resigned from her job and we are spending lots of great time together. Tracy is quite a bit younger than me, and for years we have discussed the idea of her not working and “retiring” before I am truly an old man. We’re fortunate to be able to do this, and we are giving it a test run that may wind up being permanent. In any case, we decided it’s time for action, not just talk.

If I’m simply bored with leading the HOWC, there are potential solutions, but the obvious ones are kind of a Catch-22:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catch-22_(logic)

I could stick to rolling routes with a lot of pacelines and take the ride back to the “Super Strenuous” pace of summers past. From a safety standpoint I don’t think there is much you can do on a bicycle with more potential for a big crash than 25+mph pacelines, especially with a different group of people every week. I know I’m not the only one who gets the heebie-jeebies at times regarding fast pacelines. While we have never had a multi-bike paceline accident (or really any kind of paceline crash, for that matter), the karma doesn’t feel right for testing that luck. Besides, while hard pacelines do a ton for building fitness, you have to really be fit to “enjoy” them. (Is enjoy even the right word?) Not having done the supersonic pacelines since the summer of 2010, I doubt I have the fitness to do them. So doing them builds fitness…if you are fit enough to do them. Catch-22!

We could do the type of rides we typically do in the spring where we do a six-pack of climbs on Cougar, Squak, and Tiger Mountains. Doing hard climbing focused rides would rapidly build fitness…but I don’t feel fit enough (and it feels like the wrong time of the year) to get excited about doing the arduous climbs required to increase fitness. Catch-22!

Without the super hard HOWC rides I know I will not achieve my normal fall high level of fitness. It’s this fitness that has allowed me to defy the odds and continue breaking my own PR’s on five local climbs I identify at the beginning of every year. Not having the fitness is OK, since I don’t think I will be able to pump myself up enough to even try for the PR’s. Oh well, there is always next year when I’ll be yet another year older, but that hasn’t stopped me so far. I can chide myself because the 2012 PR challenge will be even harder to achieve. I hope I can muster up the enthusiasm and effort for at least one climb this fall, because that’s really all it takes to compare this year’s version of me with last year’s. Maybe I’ll surprise myself again. Surely there is a Catch-22 in here somewhere?

I need to improve my mountain bike skills without getting hurt. You can't get better on a mountain bike without putting yourself at risk of crashing. If you fall off and hurt yourself trying to become more skilled, you might be too injured to ride and develop better skills. Catch-22!

As far as my apathy for group rides and maybe a yearning for the way things were in the past, the last paragraph of the Carolina Cycling News article sums things up well regarding new riders, “The ride leader and his lieutenants were serious about their roles, because the safety of the group depended on you, the weakest link. If you did not follow the rules, you were chastised. Harshly. If you did, you became a member of something spectacular. The Peloton.”

Since I have been starting the ride in Issaquah, I’ve been on my own leading the ride and I do miss the “lieutenants” who used to share the burden and give me a week (or even an hour during a ride) off.

I could ask any new rider to email me before joining the ride. I’d send him the link to the article. Perhaps that would help.

Maybe I just miss the good old days of group rides, even if I wasn’t around for many of them. You know, when it felt like a peloton working together.

Hills of the West Coast Idolization or Inspiration?

2011-08-21T19:57:00.000-07:00

Miles: 55 Climbing: 2756’ Route: Tibbets—Issaquah-Hobart—216^th—Witte—Lake Sawyer—Moneysmith—148^th—168^th—SE Wax—196^th—Cedar Grove—Issaquah-Hobart—Tibbets (XXX Root Beer Drive-in with Reg and Carl to check out the 55-57 Chevy car show) Participants: 7 Attrition Rate: 0 Cima Coppi: 1^st (tie) Dan F and me 3^rd Kirk N

We had a fantastic ride with a great group today, but it was a little sad to see that the sun was noticeably lower in the sky at our 8am start than it was a month ago. Hey, at least the sun was out!

When I work with athletes as a cycling coach, I try and put myself into their shoes and think and feel like they do. Some of these people are natural athletes, while others come by gains much harder. A big part of coaching is helping people become motivated and inspired. I say “helping,” because you can’t talk somebody into being super-psyched to do the hard work it takes to improve. Each person has to find their own inspiration and motivation, and a good coach will help them find it.

Looking for inspiration from athletes that play professional sports has never been my thing. How would I relate? I’ve been a pretty decent athlete all my life, but I knew very early on in my high school sports career that I was never going to be able to hit a 98mph fastball. And forget about that “change-up” moving all over the place at 80mph! For sure, I also knew I would never dunk a basketball two handed behind my head, but I did at least approach talent of some sort with competitive amateur golf. Well, I could try and convince myself that I was closer to being talented, but the difference between a good amateur two handicapper and a PGA Tour player is like the difference between a local Cat 3 Crit winner and Lance Armstrong.

So where does one look for inspiration? Of course I find certain sports stories very inspirational, but it’s not usually the type of inspiration I can translate for my purposes. We can look to elite professional athletes for motivation, but most fans seem to idolize athlete celebrities rather than find inspiration from them. It does appear to be a pretty glamorous lifestyle, but I’m not sure how that can inspire amateur athletes who will always be amateurs. While we didn’t have any sports celebrities on today’s ride, I did find some inspiration.

All summer I’ve struggled to find a competitive drive to motivate me when the going gets tough on the HOWC. I have not had the impetus to do what it takes to ride really hard. I’m not sure what lit the fire today, but I had a bit of something that enabled me to ignore the burning in my legs a few times when I put the pedal to the metal. I was pleased that on the usual Moneysmith “free for all” I was the only one able to go with Dan F and Igor G, two strong riders. On the final hard climb of the day, the one that matters the most (at least for me), at the top it was just Dan and me. I’ll take some inspiration from Dan when he said at the end of the climb, “Tom, you’re climbing well today.” Better yet, he told me that he was at 95% of his MHR on the final section, a clear indicator that he wasn’t sandbagging me! Hopefully I can draw upon this the next time I face a “go or no go” decision on a HOWC climb. Perhaps I’ll try to use Dan’s much appreciated compliment as a mantra in such occasions. Hey, whatever it takes to help one forget about that pain firing up in the legs, right?

Dan is a HOWC regular that I rode up many climbs with last year who has been leaving me in another zip code this summer. Not feeling “unfit” this year, perhaps I need to look elsewhere for the explanation? In any case, riding up Tiger Mountain with Reg N at a pretty strong pace earlier in the ride had to have been in the back of my mind. Reg was solid as a rock today, and as usual when he is on the ride, I heard several quiet inquiries as to how old Reg is. Some people are lucky to look younger than their chronological age, but to me it’s super impressive that Reg doesn’t ride his chronological age. He doesn’t look it either. Reg is a “local hero” of mine, and I hope that I can continue to take inspiration from what he accomplishes on the bike. For his latest achievement, take a look at this:

http://www.pactour.com/ridge.htm

With 1943 miles and 88,000’ of climbing over 18 straight riding days, many at high altitudes, the Ridge of the Rockies has got to be one of the toughest tests around. Yeah, the guys on TV are racing in their “tours,” but they get rest days!

It’s fitting that this is the weekend that the Vuelta gets underway (the final Grand Tour of the year), and perhaps I’ll watch a stage or two. While I certainly can understand and appreciate just how hard these guys ride and how incredibly fast they climb, I doubt I’ll find any inspiration or motivation from watching these riders. After all, how many of us can relate to people who can ride tempo pace up a sustained 12% grade climb?

I encourage the cyclists I coach to be inspired by a “local hero” of theirs rather than some cyclist playboy on TV. I might suggest something like picking out a friend who is a stronger rider than themselves, someone that the rider would like to drop. Become motivated, and then inspired by how this rider accomplishes the things he does on a bike. What is it that they have done to become as good as they are? Learn from them, set a goal of becoming stronger than they are, and then make it happen.

Reg N is kicking ass while riding at an age I will keep confidential, but believe it when I say that he leaves many younger riders shaking their heads at his fitness and skill. Reg is no superhuman, but combine some good genetics with a healthy lifestyle and some very smart training on the bike, and you get someone who is defying the clock.

I prefer my inspirational moments in the flesh and blood, and today all of us got a large dose of it from Reg N.

Hills of the West Coast Numbers don’t lie, or do they?

2011-08-13T21:00:00.000-07:00

Miles: 61 Climbing: 2576’ Route: Tibbets—Ravensdale—Veazie—Cumberland—Enumclaw—218th climb—Lake Sawyer—Witte—Maxwell—Cedar Grove—Tibbets Participants: Emil K David L Jeff M Me

It’s hard to compare rides by the numbers. How can a rider compare a solo ride into the wind with a group ride over the same route where one rider does a lot of the work? So what if a rider went faster on the group ride than when solo? What does that prove? How would I go about comparing today’s ride intensity with the bazillion other HOWC rides I have led since 2003?

To start, today’s just felt like a ride amongst friends. The only thing that made our ride even feel like a HOWC was the fact that we did the same basic route as on June 12^th. Back then, we had a gang of ten including a cadre of very strong riders who upped the ante. On the 12^th we averaged a hair over 20mph:

http://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2011/06/metal-cowboys-its-not-about-bikeat-all.html

On our way out to Enumclaw and back, we managed just over 19mph, and the ride was very laid back and it never felt like we were riding very hard. It was a nice change of pace from the normal HOWC. Even when I was on the front today I wasn’t working particularly hard, certainly not as hard as on June 12^th just following Ian L’s wheel! As always, even though I felt good during the ride, I was tired after the ride, so perhaps we just rode harder than I thought we did.

We had a brisk wind this morning as we headed south and that same wind pushed us back home when we turned north. Could we have had one of those “bad luck” cycling winds on the 12^th, and ridden into the wind for much of the ride? Actually, that wouldn’t have mattered much, except for Ian L, who did a massive amount of work on the front of that ride. We did throw in an extra 8 mile loop on the 12^th, but it was not out of character with the rest of the ride.

Today we had the smallest HOWC gang in a very long time, but it was a great ride. Not only did we all know each other well, we were all part of Team High Performance Cycling:

http://www.cascade.org/EandR/Ride_HPC.cfm

On the 12^th we had ten riders, but two riders did a lot of the work, and today we had four who split time on the front pretty evenly. You would think that being just four would have made today’s ride feel harder, especially compared to sitting in the draft on June 12^th.

Could it be that averaging 20mph is simply a lot harder than averaging 19mph, no matter how many riders there are and who is doing the hard work on the front? Of course it could, but I can’t even quantify that. There are just too many variables that cannot be accounted for. Just think about the guys on TV who average 25mph day in day out during the Tour de France. Yes, there 190 riders, but you better believe that they don’t split the work evenly. These guys are on TV for a reason.

My power meter numbers confirm that I did indeed ride quite a bit harder on June 12^th. At least some numbers don’t lie, and wattage holds you accountable as well.

Hills of the West Coast Competiton...and Pride

2011-08-07T18:38:00.001-07:00

Miles: 61 Climbing: 3300’ Route: Tibbets—Issaquah-Hobart Road—Tiger from the north—200th—Lake Francis—Cedar Grove—154^th—Coal Creek—89^th—116^th—Enatai—Medina—Kirkland—NE 70^th—Old Redmond Road—West Lake Sammamish Participants: 9 Attrition Rate: 1, even though technically he finished Hero of the Day: Greg, but no one but me knows it

While I have ridden the roads we were on today a million times, I had never done them all on the same ride. We did a kind of suburban circumnavigation route, working our way clockwise from Issaquah to Maple Valley to Renton to Bellevue to Medina to Hunts Point to Kirkland to Redmond and then ultimately back to Tibbets Park in Issaquah. As opposed to venturing out into the hinterland as we often do, today we kept things close to the vest. Traffic was incredibly light for almost the entire ride, and I don’t think five cars passed us on the sometimes busy four miles of Issaquah-Hobart Road down to Tiger Mountain Road.

It was a great day, we had a great group, and we did a great ride.

Having led the ride for eight years, there isn’t a whole lot I have not seen before and today was no exception. Nevertheless, I do have some reflections based on my observations on the road.

We had a double Olympic Gold Medalist with us (Greg from Team High Performance Cycling), and while he earned his medals in a kayaking event, it’s not hard to see how things translate over to cycling. Check out this resume:

http://www.epickayaks.com/about/gregbarton

Greg is a strong rider who just goes for it at all times. On 200^th off of Issaquah-Hobart we established a regroup about two miles away at the intersection of 244^th. I was the only one who noticed that Greg dropped his chain, and by the time I saw this he was quite a bit off of the back. With my little mirror I watched him put his head down and pour on the coals. The group had splintered a bit, but everyone was in sight of each other at all times. Greg motored on along, obviously not concerned about the big deficit he had to dig out of, nor the fact that it was not likely that he would catch up to the front of the group. He didn’t, but that’s not the point.

It was a totally unnecessary competition, conducted only with himself, but you could tell he gave it a big effort to bridge the gaps. No one but me was aware that he had started from way back, everyone was going fairly hard, and he still went for it. Nobody but me likely recognizes that it was the single strongest piece of riding by anybody the whole ride, and I’m betting that Greg could care less about that.

You wonder what Olympic Champions are made of, but it’s not really much of a mystery, is it? Contrast that with certain people I have ridden with who will leave the paved road and whip across a gravel parking lot to reach the bottom of a climb 5 seconds before everyone else. What the hell is that about? Isn’t the sweetest victory often the one that only the victor recognizes?

I don’t think Greg has been riding for very long, and maybe he just doesn’t know what can and can’t be done yet. I did notice him accelerate to close some little gaps that formed right before we were coming to a stop light. While he wasted a little energy doing that, he is so competitive that it didn’t seem to dampen his enthusiasm for going for it any time he had the chance. Olympic Gold Medals don’t go to people who are afraid to “give it a shot”.

Speaking of competition, I’ve been trying to figure out why I don’t seem too motivated by it this summer. Quite frankly, it’s been a struggle to motivate myself to ride hard. Seeing Greg must have started the subliminal process, because I now think I know what the issue is. This is an odd year in that I don’t have any big specific goals on the road—i.e. no big alpine tour, etc. I was thinking a lack of focus might be a reason for a lack of competitive spirit.

But I realized today that I do have a goal for 2011. I am learning how to be a decent mountain biker, and I have a brand new 2012 Specialized Epic Expert to learn with. I am incredibly excited about my new bike, and I am like a little kid when I go out for a singletrack ride. From now on I won’t dwell on the competitive thing. I’ll continue to lead the HOWC and stop wondering why I am content to just follow the wheels on less hilly routes than I normally take the ride on. Maybe I am subconsciously saving energy for my next MTB adventure:)

So there is competition, and then there is pride. Pride is what will keep me leading the ride, and trying to ride well. And pride is what several other people must have had on their minds today. We had one rider who was often off the back a little during the first half of the ride, but not far enough that he didn’t catch back on at a stop or if we backed off just a little. He was a bigger guy, one of those people who look like they are likely a locomotive on the flats. While we didn’t have a bunch of big climbs today, the climbs we did do were clearly taking their toll on him. I found myself directly behind this rider on West Lake Sammamish very late in the ride. When he rotated to the front of the paceline, right away he was riding off the pace. I quietly suggested that if he was tired, he could just rotate off the front, no problem.

Pride can be a powerful thing. Instead of heading to the rear for a rest, this rider actually upped his pace by about three mph. He wasn’t up there for long, but he made his point. Unfortunately, when he got to the back, I watched him get shot out of a cannon backwards, receding into the next zip code, if not county.

Just before we reached Newport Way, I let the group go while I waited for this rider. As he rolled up, he was apologetic about not wanting to hold us up. I told him that there was no reason to drop someone near the end of the ride when they may not know how to get home. And what did he do when we rejoined the group? He went right back to the front of course!

Just before I was behind this rider, also on Lake Sammamish, I found myself behind someone who had earlier been riding quite strong, but who must have been fatiguing just a bit. He would let the door open in front of him, and then grit his teeth and close down the 15-20’ gap, forcing everyone behind him to do likewise. After this happened several times, I mentioned that he could yell “gap” and the group would slow down. He didn’t, and I’m sure he didn’t want to be recognized as the person who had let the gap form. I guess it’s OK to be gapped, as long as you are not the one who let it happen. In any case, I made sure to move back into the line one ahead of him my after my next short pull.

After you’ve done a bunch of group rides, you learn to try and not follow someone who might be struggling even the tiniest bit. Slowing and surging over and over to regain the paceline takes a tremendous amount of energy. I do my best to keep the group riding at a consistent pace, but it’s never perfect. I’ve learned that I can’t afford to waste unnecessary energy on a hard ride.

I had a good day on the ride, and yes, I guess I am proud of that. I learned something as I always do, I rode well, and while I wasn’t the strongest, I was the oldest. I have no way of knowing, but I think I was the only one who noticed that. In addition, it’s also been a ZAD (Zero Advil Day). For proper context on that comment, see the post below.

It's Hell Getting Old(er)

2011-08-06T17:51:00.000-07:00

About ten years ago I was speed hiking up a steep trail when I noticed a strange sensation in my right hip. I didn’t give the end-of-stride stiffness more than a moment’s thought, figuring that I had tweaked something or just wasn’t fully warmed up. Little did I realize that this tiny little twinge would turn into something much more ominous down the road.

Besides the occasional stiffness, not much happened with my hip until the end of 2005 when I had a bout of off-and-on sharp pain that caused me to see an orthopedist. My X-ray and MRI were normal and it was obvious to the doctor that I had good bone density. The doctor was at a loss to explain my symptoms based on the X-ray chart, and he felt that the most likely explanation was very low grade (two on the scale of ten) early-stage arthritis in my hip. It turns out that all I had to do was wear fleece bib-tights while cycling on chilly days to prevent the intermittent pain from returning.

While I seem to be blessed with a cardiovascular “age” much lower than my chronological age, I have never been so lucky orthopedically. I’ve suffered through much more than my fair share of over-use injuries since I was in my early thirties. I’ve had elbow and shoulder problems from throwing baseballs, hitting a million golf balls, and smashing a few tennis balls.

I went back to the orthopedist this week because recently the stiffness and pain has gotten quite a bit worse in my hip. With the right hip, for the first time in my life I have an injury that was caused primarily by the aging process—with some genetic and lifestyle components thrown in for good measure. While the orthopedist I saw earlier in the week felt that my level of activity was a major contributor, it was little consolation when he told me I likely would not be experiencing the hip issue (at least at my current age) if all I did was drive a car to work and then sit at a desk.

Doctors like to talk about outcomes, and I asked for the best possible prognosis for my right hip. The doctor started off by using the words “progressive” and “degenerative.” I said, “Progressive? Degenerative? Exactly what are you talking about? I can’t fix this?” He said that I could hope to stabilize the hip through targeted exercises, and limit the progression of the arthritis. Worst case scenario is a full hip replacement in 5-10 years. For someone who, knock on wood, has been healthy their entire life, this news came as somewhat of a shock. I’ve gone years at a time without taking any kind of pain reliever. I guess it’s foreboding that I just added a column titled “Advil” to my training log. Keeping tabs on this trend seems like a good way to monitor the situation.

Next the doctor started using words like “limitations” and “results” in reference to a possible surgery. He also told me that recreational cycling was actually good for my hip, and that I should be able to walk without compromise. Rather than discuss limitations, I wanted to talk about the effects of a hip surgery on athletic performance. Yes, there are stories of elite athletes who wind up with hip replacements, but are there stories of these athletes coming back and performing at the same level? I know that some people in their twenties have a hip replaced due to rheumatoid arthritis and do well. There are people my age who have had both hips replaced and get around just fine.

But how many of these people cycle 12-14+ hours a week, ride a mountain bike like a kid, hike, snowshoe, and are considering learning how to paraglide? How many people with a hip replacement are trying to do a climb on a bicycle faster than someone twenty five years younger than them? I guess when I get around to returning to alpine skiing I won’t be searching out the mogul runs. In fact, I’m not supposed to do jumping jacks, so I guess jumping off of Poo Poo Point in a paraglider is out of the question.

Yesterday, I went to see a physical therapist, not only regarding my right hip, but also for lingering soreness from an ankle sprain almost two months ago. Just to “get my money’s worth,” I threw in an elbow issue, so we went through that as well. The PT was a lot more optimistic than the doctor who had told me that a lot of muscle has to be cut into during hip surgery, and that the cut muscle would not be as strong or possess the same endurance or time to fatigue. The PT didn’t say this was rubbish, but he feels like people who are willing to work hard on rehabbing post-surgery can do extremely well and come back just as strong as ever.

Really, the best I can hope for is that by the time I need to have something done, the technology of the surgery has improved dramatically. Maybe there will be a less invasive procedure developed. In any case, I now have the Fear of God in me, and I intend to get down to business and start the extensive exercise program the PT outlined.

I sometimes ride with several “heroes,” people older than me who are racking up incredible athletic accomplishments and performing at a high level for an athlete of any age. My friend Reg N just competed one of the most arduous trips on a bike that I am aware of:

http://www.pactour.com/ridge.htm

If you visit that site, be sure to scroll down the page for some pretty incredible daily mileage and climbing numbers. Keep in mind that a lot of the hard riding was at higher altitudes, and that there were 18 straight days of riding. Even Tour de France riders get rest days! As a result of preparing for and completing this tour in style, I expect that Reg will have the best fitness of his life, and will once again kick the aging process in the teeth. I’ll find out about his trip—and how strong he is riding—when we get together to ride on Monday. I aspire to such feats of greatness a few years down the road.

Since 2003, I have led a hard group ride called the Hills of the West Coast. Sometimes in the back of my mind, I wonder when declining aerobic capacity will catch up with me and I no longer will be able to ride (and yes, be competitive) with strong riders much younger than me. With the proper lifestyle and training, I know that I can delay the aging process and extend the time before I see a dramatic drop off physiologically. Certainly I expect to win fewer of those battles as I get older, but it’s kind of ironic that the very training designed to help me keep my aerobic capacity from dropping might be costing me in other ways. Most of the cyclists that I coach are younger than me. Maybe that’s a good thing, because I will have experience with issues that may eventually affect them as well.

It’s a real eye opener that my first major decline due to the aging process may result from an orthopedic condition of my right hip, rather than a decline in max heart rate or stroke volume. I am seriously pondering the fact that I might not just be getting older, but that I actually might be getting “old.”

This is the first time I have had this feeling, but it certainly won’t be the last. I guess I could just resolve to get used to it. Bullshit! No, I am not going to get used it, and no, I am not going to ignore the feeling. As I always have, I am going to do my best to fight against getting older, and now I am also going to wage war against actually getting “old.”

By the way, the doctor thinks that I now have a moderate arthritic condition that is a five on the scale of ten. I think he just can’t count.

Hills of the West Coast: Congrats to Cadel Evans

2011-07-24T18:29:00.001-07:00

Miles: 69.6 Climbing: 2574’ Route: Tibbets/East Lake Sammamish/Avondale/Bear Creek/Mink/Broadway/Maltby/High Bridge/Carnation/Fall City/Tibbets Attrition Rate: 2

Back when we used to start the ride from Downtown Seattle, I would often ride up the first climb at the back of the group. My goal was to get a feel for the type of group that we had on the ride that day. If someone looked to be in over their head, I would find a way to have “The Talk” privately. Normally the rider would have already figured out that they were not likely going to be able to hang with the ride. If not, I would tell them that the ride was likely to get harder, and certainly not easier. I’d make sure that they knew the way home, and it made sense to have this talk while we were still close to the start.

When we head north from the new ride start in Issaquah we often head up East Lake Sammamish, riding a paceline in the generous shoulder. There is a very small hill towards the south end, and for the second time in the last few weeks, a rider popped off of the back. We did hit the hill a little hard, and I asked the group to take it easy down the back side of the hill. I thought for sure that whoever was off the back would easily catch back on. I was wrong, and that person never regained the group. It was very early on in the ride and I was checking everything out, making sure that we had a safe and solid group of nine. I couldn’t afford to be distracted by looking behind us.

I’m not sure what the solution might be. With no re-group at the top of a tiny hill, if I hang around with someone off of the back, I’ll have to dig deep to regain the paceline, something I really don’t want to have to do. Besides, that won’t help the popped rider anyway.

As we have a lot this year, we headed out into the hinterland, and everyone was very complimentary of the route. We had an on the road average of around 20mph, and once everyone got the feel of things, we had a pretty smooth paceline most of the time. When riding this type of route, we certainly don’t get the same training effect as we would if we were doing 6000’ of hard paced climbing by staying local in the Issaquah Alps or hammering in super hard pacelines like we often did in past years. But hey, it’s finally summer (maybe), and it just seems like a lot more fun to ride out in the MON (middle of nowhere). Spring is normally the time of the year for heavy duty climbing, but since we didn’t really have a spring this year, we have sort of skipped that phase.

I have been listing the ride as having “some hills,” and the pace as “HOWC Lite,” so riders should know what to expect. If people come out expecting the maniacal pace of past summers or the big climbing days, they must be adjusting well. Now I just have to figure out how to have the ride go smooth right from the start, and to not lose anyone right out of the gate.

At least no one is complaining!

Hills of the West Coast Six-Pack Gone Flat

2011-07-17T21:22:00.000-07:00

Miles: 29 Climbing: 2800’ Route: Tibbets—Issaquah-Hobart—132^nd Tiger climb—Tiger from north climb—Tiger from south climb—May Valley—High Valley on Squak climb—May Valley—Rt. 900 (raining-abort)—Tibbets Participants: 12 Attrition Rate: 4 (two didn’t leave the parking lot: one didn’t want to ride hills today, and one drove in as we were leaving-two with mechanicals)

One of our riders today has lived in Seattle for his entire life of 54 years. He said that he has never experienced a summer like this weather-wise…but then you already knew that. The plan today was to stay close to our Tibbets start and do climbs on Tiger, Squak, and Cougar Mountains before the rain. Ideally, we would pick up a “six-pack” of two each on each mountain.

Well, at least we exceeded our quota on Tiger. Not by plan, as the intent was to loop to the south before heading back to Squak. Thanks to Dan and his handy phone with a radar map, we changed our minds and rode back over Tiger from whence we had just come. As it turned out this was a good call weather-wise. I wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to ride in the rain on their “A” bike…in mid-July. Besides it simply being the wrong time of the year to get messy, the roads were as slippery as glass on the descents.

It started to rain on the High Valley climb. After descending, the group took a shortcut over Route 900 back to Tibbets. I have only ridden 900 in the other direction one time eight years ago. My, how time flies. Heading north on 900 is a much better plan, and it wasn’t bad at all, at least on a Sunday morning.

One of our riders had a heart rate monitor with a high heart rate alarm. The noise the device emitted was that fast, “beep, beep, beep” that you hear in a movie right before the bank vault door blows off in an explosion. It was the loudest little HRM alarm I have ever heard, and I was hoping that his heart wasn’t going to explode. He looked like he was riding hard enough for that to happen! I’ve written before about how little relevant information a heart rate monitor conveys. Why can’t they invent a device with a rain alarm?

There isn’t much to write about today, because there wasn’t much to today’s ride. While our ride was short, it was sweet as well, and I just hope that we have good luck with the weather for the rest of the summer.

Hills of the West Coast: Fun or Focus?

2011-07-10T20:17:00.000-07:00

Miles 74.3 Climbing: 2662’ Route: East Lake Sammamish/Avondale/Bear Creek/Mink/Maltby/Snohomish/Monroe/Tualco/West Snoqualmie Valley/Ames Lake/244th/212th/East Lake Sammamish Participants: 8 Attrition Rate: 1 Soldier of the Day N/A Cima Coppi N/A

Now that we have done enough Issaquah based HOWC rides, I kind of have a sense as to how things are shaping up.

Almost every week I am left to ponder how I am riding relative to the group. Over the years that we started the ride from downtown I was occasionally in the little front group, often in the top “quartile” in terms of relative strength to the other riders, in the top third most of the time, and almost never lower than mid-pack.

Since we have started in Issaquah I am often mid-pack at the start of the ride, but if we lose a few of the riders who are struggling a bit, my “ranking” drops dramatically. No, I have not been DFL…yet, but I have been a little baffled as to why I don’t seem to be riding as strongly as in the past.

Certainly I am not as quite as fit and sharp as I would like to be in mid-July, but I’m not in bad shape, and there isn’t anything physically that is holding me back. Yes, I am another year older, but let’s not go there.

I can only come to one conclusion and that is that we are getting stronger groups starting in Issaquah than the already strong Seattle groups we had. Every week a new rider or two shows up, and inevitably they are very, very strong riders. It simply isn’t easy to ride mid-pack or above with these guys. We had a light crew of seven (starting with eight) today on STP weekend, but there was nary a slacker amongst them.

We did the short but steep 244^th climb up to the Sammamish Plateau at about mile 64 of a hard 74 mile ride. I went hard, and despite taking two seconds off of my previous best on this climb, I was still eight seconds or so behind the lead group. The HOWC gang always hammers this climb, so it’s not a bad benchmark.

One would think that this performance gap would provide ample motivation to not only dig deeper on the ride, but to get out and ride (I prefer this word to “train”) with some serious intensity one weekday in addition to doing the HOWC on the weekend. Regardless of any other goal, every year I focus on the goal of riding well on the HOWC, and that normally provides ample motivation to put in the quality (and quantity) miles to prepare to do so. For some reason the focus with my riding is not there this year, but the fun is. As always, I am really enjoying riding my bicycle(s). I speculate that I must be distracted somehow and I just don’t have the tunnel vision required to get the job done.

I feel much less competitive in spirit on the ride this year than I normally do. Perhaps I’m not excited about hammering hard and competing because I sense I am not as competitive with the group I am riding with? Paradoxically, maybe I am not enjoying riding hard because I am not quite fit enough?

So far this year, we’ve done a lot less climbing specific routes than typical. With the Issaquah start, I can take the ride far out into the hinterlands (Snohomish, Black Diamond-Enumclaw, North Bend-Rattlesnake Lake) within the context of a 60-75 mile ride. Starting from Downtown Seattle we would often do a “Six Pack” of two climbs each on Tiger, Squak, and Cougar Mountains, totaling 60+ miles and 6000+’ of climbing. Since we now start at the epicenter of those climbs, the same route results in only 40-45 miles, and it seems contrived to tack on supplemental miles to hit the 60-70 mile range. Especially given my state of mind, it’s been much more fun to take the ride out on a big loop, introducing people to roads that they have never seen. No doubt we sacrifice some training effect by not doing the hard Issaquah Alps climbs, but so far everyone seems to love these new routes.

Today we averaged 21mph for the full ride, riding most of the time in a paceline around 23-24mph. There is no question we could have just kept riding and easily finished off 100 miles in less than 5 hours. Rolling along in these pacelines felt almost “easy” when I wasn’t on the front, and there were enough of us that no one had to take long pulls unless they wanted to. I never saw a wheel out of line, and the pacelines felt about as comfortable as a paceline can. I normally don’t enjoy pacelines much, and while I certainly can’t fathom what it’s like to ride in a peloton for 2100 miles like the Tour riders do, I must admit that I am having fun participating in the solid pacelines we have had. Taking the pace up to 25-26+ like we normally do in the summer would certainly change the sense of relative calm for all of the riders, and at this point, I just don’t think the increased risk of increased speed is worth it.

I don’t have any specific cycling goals for this year, other than my normal annual goal of defying the odds and proving (to myself) that I have not aged a year aerobic capacity-wise, even if I have chronologically. I do this by selecting five local climbs that I frequently time myself on and striving to establish new PR’s on each one. At this point, failing to achieve this would actually not disappoint me, but “taking a year off” is not the smartest thing I could do. In addition to not having any specific cycling goals, I have a shiny new 2012 Specialized Epic Expert Carbon 29er waiting to be assembled at Cycle U. Since living in Issaquah, I have really enjoyed learning how to ride mountain bikes now that I can roll out my garage to great singletrack. Maybe I am distracted:)

Coaching somebody like me would be difficult right now. You say that you have no real goals? What’s that, you aren’t psyched to ride really hard? Just why are you riding? You say you want to ride just for fun this year, and what should I do, coach?

I’d say take two fun pills and call me when they wear off.

Hills of the West Coast Report: It's Tour Time!

2011-07-02T21:06:00.000-07:00

Route: Tibbets Park/East Lake Sammamish/SE 24^th climb/212^th/Louis Thompson climb/Inglewood/Sahalee climb/Inglewood/208^th climb/Union Hill/Snoqualmie Valley/Fall City/SE 40^th climb/Highland climb Miles: 62.6 Climbing: 3943’ Participants: 11 Attrition Rate: 2 plus Ian’s mechanical and 1 early departure *Special Clydesdale Cima Coppi: Kevin M

Today was the first day of the Tour de France. For the last year, many of the riders have thought of not much else than these next three weeks. It must really suck to be anyone other than the strongest rider in the Tour. It must even kind of suck to be that guy.

I could train for the next year with nothing else in mind other than becoming a strong enough climber to hold Ian L’s wheel on a single climb. I could invest in an oxygen tent, hire a team of the best coach’s in the world, and count every gram of food that goes into my body. I could fill his top tube with sand and it’s still not possible that I could stay with him. This is simply an unachievable goal. On top of that, a year from now, I’ll be another year older and Ian will be another year stronger, because he is still in that age range.

While Ian is light years stronger than me, that’s certainly not the case at the top level of professional cyclists participating in the Tour. All it takes to make a difference at that level is one or two percent, ignoring the potential advantages of blood doping, etc. As I watch Ian ride away on a climb, there is no sense of loss or remorse on my part, no sense of frustration, and no sense of anger. It’s not just that I’m really not that competitive on a friendly ride; I fully grasp that it is not possible for me to stay with Ian.

Now put yourself in the shoes of the General Classification contending Tour riders on the first climb of any significance. These guys are going to be looking at each other and listening to the breathing around them, searching for any sign of fear or weakness. Yes, fear, because these riders have been training for the last year not knowing if they can go with this guy or that guy. Somewhere in the bunch will be someone breathing through their mouth and looking as cool as a cucumber. Phil and Paul may not talk about it, and even if the group stays together on that first climb, many of those riders will already realize that they are not capable of winning the Tour, barring unforeseen developments. There will be the strongest rider, and then there will be everybody else, and the strongest rider always wins the Tour. You would have to be delusional to believe otherwise.

The camera will zoom in on the rider’s faces, and they will do their best not to show any emotion. One or more of them will likely secretly wish that he could pull over and cry in frustration. After all, he has just spent the last year focusing on something that he learns in a split second is impossible. And even if the strongest rider believes he is the strongest rider, he will still have a knot in his stomach and moments of doubt. It’s far from ironclad that he will win; after all, he’s not light years stronger than his competitors. What pressure on these riders!

In tournament golf, if a player is six shots behind with six holes to play, he still has a chance. He could finish strongly, and the leader could “choke” and lose the tournament. That’s not the way it works in endurance sports. Yes, there are variables. Some riders recover faster than others, some can climb great but not time trial, but the bottom line is that anyone other than the strongest rider normally will not win the Tour.

Yes, those pros are sure incredible, and as I discussed in my last blog about this year’s Chelan Century, the rate at which these people climb is astounding. But you don’t have to climb at 6000’ per hour to be astounding. At 40 years of age and weighing in at 220#, Kevin M is the strongest “Clydesdale” climber I have ever seen. When I think of the term Clydesdale, I think of someone who, while they may be capable of pulling like a locomotive on the flats, rides most climbs like they are towing a piano on a trailer. Not Kevin, who must possess one hell of an engine under the hood. I couldn’t keep up with him even on the steepest climbs where the weight penalty is the greatest. I’m a little embarrassed to think about how much less I weight than Kevin. Not often do I witness a battle against gravity as impressive as I saw today.

Back on Planet Earth, the seven remaining members of our group settled down into a nice rhythm. Heading south through the Snoqualmie Valley, we had our own little Team Time Trial, albeit at quite a bit below a full out effort level. We took 5-10 second pulls, similar to the pure rotating pacelines you will see tomorrow on TV. Can you imagine riding in a rotating paceline with everyone absolutely on the rivet? No wonder there is often carnage during those events. I can hardly wait for tomorrow’s Tour stage-just kidding! It’s not like I’ll be watching the Indy 500. Actually, I’ll be looking for any signs of weakness when the camera zooms in on the riders. For me, that might be the most interesting part of the tour, because I think the suspense will be over long before the riders roll into Paris.

2011 Chelan Century Approaching Perfection

2011-07-01T20:03:00.000-07:00

Now in its seventh year, I’m not sure how the Chelan Century Challenge can get any better. In my opinion, they have the perfect route with the perfect scenery, a perfect weather window over on the dry eastside of the state, and the perfect support. What else can the organizers do? The ride even has “perfect” uniqueness in that there are three loops that total up to 103 miles, and each loop returns to the start/finish area. Need to grab some sunscreen or a fresh jersey? No problem. I can’t think of another event that is set up this way. To top it off, I think the Chelan Century is probably the hardest event in addition to being the best. Yes, it’s shorter than Ramrod and the High Pass Challenge, but with over 8000’ of climbing and the epic McNeil Canyon, this ride is a handful. McNeil Canyon is certainly harder than anything you will encounter at Rainier or either side of St. Helens.

The Chelan Century Challenge is put on by the all volunteer Chelan Rotary, of which Lester Cooper is the president. Despite the Chelan Rotarians not really being “bike people” (at least in the beginning), I believe they are running the best overall cycling event in Washington State. With ridership up 38% year over year, I would have to call Lester a “Promoter Extraordinaire.” But when you have a quality product like the Chelan Century it’s pretty easy to get excited about what you are doing.

There is just no way to discuss this event without focusing on McNeil Canyon. As great as the whole route is, without any semblance of doubt McNeil is the Crux of the whole show. McNeil is a beast of a climb, to use an expression that will be overworked massively during the upcoming Tour de France broadcast. At our Cycle U Chelan Skills and Hills Cycling Camps, people always ask about goals for time to climb McNeil. I break it down pretty simply: less than 60 minutes is good, less than 50 is very good, anything around 45 is great, and anybody that drops down towards 40 minutes is a fantastic climber.

Sometimes at camp the talk turns to what a really good climber would do on McNeil. I've been guesstimating that Alberto Contador could do McNeil Canyon in about 25 minutes. It’s common knowledge that the best climbers in the world can climb about 6000’ per hour, or 100’ per minute. McNeil gains around 2400’ in altitude so 25 minutes seems like a safe guess. Just for kicks, I went to the online power calculators Bikecalculator and Kruezotter and ran the #'s:

http://www.bikecalculator.com/wattsUS.html

http://www.kreuzotter.de/english/espeed.htm

Using a 5'8" height, 135# rider weight, 20# bike weight (including clothing, etc.), 0 mph wind, and an average wattage of 400, the projected time would be 24:47. Actually, the best climbers in the world can climb a little more than a rate of 6000’ per hour when the climb is less than thirty minutes long. My guess is if they held a Tour de France time trial up McNeil someone would do it 22-23 minutes, or about half of what I think of as a “great” time. Yes, professional athletes are professionals for a reason, and this is true in any sport. The best in the world at any sporting endeavor perform at an extremely high level.

Keep all this in mind when you are watching the Tour. Or the next time you attack McNeil Canyon. For some, that will be on June 23^rd of next year when the 2012 Chelan Century Challenge takes place. For me, I'll tackle McNeil at next years cycling camp if not sooner.

I had lunch with Lester this week, and he tells me that in the less than a week since the event ended, he has had feedback for 50 (albeit small) improvements for the 2012 version of the Chelan Century. How can you make an already great event any better? Well, there is the answer. Listen to the riders, focus on quality, and focus on the tiniest of details. That will get the job done.

2011 Chelan Century Challenge

2011-06-20T17:44:00.000-07:00

I've written a lot in this blog about how great the riding is in the Chelan area. It's no coincidence that we hold the Cycle U Skills and Hills Cycling Camp in Chelan. I love riding there!

This Saturday (June 25th) I'll be in Chelan to ride my third straight Chelan Century Challenge. This event is absolutely one of the best in the Pacific Northwest. Here is what I had to say after my first Chelan Century:

http://tomsbicycleblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/tour-de-chelan-century-challenge-on-6.html

If you do a search on this blog for "Chelan" or "Chelan Century," you will find that I have written in great length about why the Chelan area is close to perfect for cycling.

Team High Performance Cycling as well as Cycle U will be well represented on Saturday. I hope to see you as well.

HOWC Ride Report Metal Cowboys: It’s not about the bike…at all (it’s really not about the bike)

2011-06-12T19:38:00.000-07:00

Miles: 68 (70 with ride end bonus treat) Climbing: 3000’ (4000’ with bonus) Route: Tibbets—Issaquah-Hobart Rd—Landsburg—Cumberland—Veazie—Enumclaw (400^th)—244^th—Whitney Hill Rd—218^th—Moneysmith—Thomas—Covington-Sawyer Rd—216^th—Witte—Maple Valley—Maxwell—Cedar Grove—Mountain Park Squak bonus climb—Tibbets Participants: 10 Attrition Rate: 1 (a shocking complete detonation within the 1^st mile; it looked like he was shot out of a cannon off the back) Soldier of the Day: Ian L for his incredible work on the front/Steve H for showing up and riding hard (4:40 Flying Wheels 100 yesterday and 70m more at a 20mph average speed today. Steve spent more time on the front than a lot of us, including me) Cima Coppi: 1^st Ian L 2^nd Garrett C 3^rd Dan F

After a little bit of a herky-jerky start, we settled into a real groove on today’s ride. Riding south from Issaquah toward Black Diamond, one is basically riding gradually uphill the entire way. Additionally, there was a headwind the whole way south. The combination of the gradual uphill and headwind made it difficult for riders to maintain a consistent effort level when they got to the front of the paceline for a pull. Once we got the pace sorted out, things went along smooth as butter. Things are now starting to gel with the new Issaquah start. It’s amazing how much different today’s ride felt than last week’s somewhat chaotic effort. We rode hard today, but smooth enough that people didn’t yo-yo back and forth off the back of the group.

As with last week’s ride, today’s route lent itself to a significant amount of pacelining. We spent much of the ride on deserted smooth rural roads as we navigated a big clockwise circle around Black Diamond. There were still ample opportunities to go for it on many climbs, and things sorted out when the road tilted upward and we called for a re-group.

You know it's a hard ride when you spend 99% of the time in the big ring. I can only distinctly remember one climb where I used the small ring, and that was on the sustained 9% 218th climb up from Green Valley Road.

Since starting the ride in 2003, I have led 200+ HOWC rides. Yes, many of the rides are a blur and many don’t even register in my memory. That’s why I started writing the HOWC ride reports in this blog! While I certainly can’t remember many of the super strong riders who have been on the ride, one thing that does stand out are the people who absolutely fly up the climbs.

I’m not talking about the guy who shows up on the ride, pours his guts out on the road and hammers one climb before splitting. I’m also not talking about people who target the climbs, staying in the draft the rest of the time to save their legs. Rather, I am talking about people who are there on the first climb, the last climb, and every climb in between. The indefatigable Ian L took monster pulls on the front of the ride, including the last 5+ miles back into Issaquah. Normally you are yelling, “Hey, let somebody else have a turn!” because the lead rider is slowing down and doesn’t realize it. Not so with Ian, and I don’t think anyone was less than extremely happy that he did a lot of the work.

In addition to being a workhorse, Ian is also the second strongest climber I have seen on the HOWC, and that makes him the second strongest climber I have ever seen, period. (Only super-cyclist Chris Ragsdale is stronger IMHO, but we would be watching Chris on TV this summer if he had discovered cycling at a younger age.)

The three strongest climbers on today’s ride were all riding metal. Ian was on his steel Rodriguez, Garrett C was on a steel Bianchi with downtube shifters, and Dan F was on a titanium Merlin his dad handed down to him. If it were all about the bike, these three riders would have ranked toward the bottom amongst our heavily carbon-laden crew. No, it’s about something else. I was pleased that all three of our Metal Cowboys were riding with Campagnolo. (Oops…wait…that’s definitely about the bike!)

Just as in golf or any other sport, you can’t buy a game. With cycling, it’s all about a rider’s fitness, aerobic capacity, largely genetically determined; age—face it-max heart rate and aerobic capacity decline with age; ability to grit their teeth and endure pain; determination; and weight, at least for climbing. Note that I’m talking about the rider’s weight, not the bike’s weight. A pound is a pound, but I’d rather have a lighter body than bike.

Dan was very impressive today, as he has been in recent weeks. Dan is a HOWC regular, and many times last year Dan and I climbed side by side. Not so this year, as he has upped his game and was in another dimension, leaving me in the dust. Must be that bike fit I did for him a few months ago. Just kidding! I complimented Dan on his form, and he mentioned that he did Ian’s Wednesday Bends ride almost every week. Yeah, I can see how trying to keep Ian in sight while hammering up six or eight steep climbs would help your fitness. Damn, I need to get motivated!

I tossed in a little bonus at the very end of the ride. I say tossed because I chose not to participate. I was too close to home and that was an easy out! While I took a right on Sunset and rode home through downtown Issaquah, some of the others headed up Squak Mountain, via the 1000’ 8% average grade Mountain Park Boulevard:

http://www.bicycleclimbs.com/climbdetail.aspx?ClimbId=36

Tough any time, Mountain Park Boulevard must have put a real capper on today’s ride.

Maybe I shouldn’t worry about getting motivated and just work on surviving. As we rolled into Issaquah, Bill L, a very strong regular HOWC rider, looked over at me and said, “The young guys made us work hard today, didn’t they?” Yes indeed they did. There is no way I would ride that hard on my own. Wait a second…I can kill two birds with one stone! With the return of the summer HOWC, I’ve not only found a way to work on my form, I’ve found the motivation to do so.

Young guys! What young guys?

Epilogue: As it turned, out no one went up Mountain Park. After I turned right on Sunset, I was sure that a few were starting up, but they must have been bluffing!