I'd Rather be Riding

I'm supposed to be on my way to meet up with my team mates for some motor pacing today.  Instead I'm sitting here with my chest full of phlegm, a low grade fever, and a splitting headache from coughing all night and not being able to sleep.  There must be another Fred somewhere in Portland who is waging biological warfare on me.  If my suspicions are correct, the perp is a Cat 4/5 man of racing age 45-50, looking to eliminate some competition.  I was supposed to ride the Dirty Circles Road Race tomorrow, the last in the series.  I should be winning that race as it's a flat sprinters course.  It's very difficult to shake riders off of the pack without any hills.  The only trouble is that I seem to be prone to getting boxed in on sprints.  In any event, my Fredly ambitions are imperiled by this illness as I sit here, strength and fitness from months of training oozing from my body as I endure rib cracking cough attacks.  I wonder if there is a training benefit to rib cracking cough attacks?

Meanwhile, I received two copies of Bicycling magazine in the mail yesterday; the March issue and the 2013 Buyers guide.  The March issue promises to teach me how to hit my ideal riding weight as well as a faster way to get faster.  That means that the April issue will have nothing left to talk about, except perhaps to reveal the true meaning of life, once and for all.  Also, reading Bicycling cultivated in my a deep and powerful need for a pair of hand-made in Italy, carbon fiber and kangaroo leather cycling shoes.

Normally, 45-50 year old heterosexual family men do not feel the need for anything that is hand-made in Italy unless it is red, has 4 wheels, 12 cylinders, and a prancing horse emblem on it. But then there is the 45-50 year old heterosexual FRED. These creatures, it turns out, can be just as nutty as any woman with a shoe problem. It would be easy for me to think that I am unusual in this regard, except my cycling passion has led me to join a team and to enter local bicycle races. Doing so is good for me because it helps keep things in perspective. When it comes to gear fetish, I'm mid-pack at best, as evidenced by the deep dish carbon wheels present at the early season races this year. And you can bet that I enjoyed every minute of my mockery of all of those dorks who showed up with those wheels even as I lusted after them. And, after all, 500 dollar shoes are a lot ore attainable than 500,000 dollar red cars with prancing horse emblems.

An update while watching le Tour

For cycling enthusiasts, the day we've been waiting for all year has arrived.  The Tour de France has begun, our DVR's will be busy for the next three weeks, and our spouses will be annoyed by our normally active outdoorsy selves as we watch the Tour and fast forward through Road ID and Michelob Ultra commercials. Spoiler alert, Bob Roll doesn't find a riding partner this year either...

Have any of you been following the controversy surrounding bike share programs and helmet use?  Bike share programs are popping up in cities around the country and they are proving to be very successful.  That sounds like a very good thing right?  Well, it now seems that this is a new front on the culture wars.  Cyclists are now being called Limousine Liberals.  In fact, some folks who call themselves 'conservative' are suddenly feeling all nanny state, big government, getting all up in your private life by noticing that many bike share users don't wear helmets.  Not only that, but they have become very concerned about non-white poor people too!  What's behind this turnabout?  They point out that but bike share users tend to be white and highly educated.  They 'worry' that the program isn't doing enough for non-white uneducated folks.  Wow! isn't it refreshing to hear so much concern for non-white low income folks from this unexpected advocate?  I wonder about the motivation.  Could it be that they are suddenly adopting this attitude because they have somehow linked bicycling with a political ideology, one that they think is opposed to theirs? It does seem that in some circles, usually circles that don't intersect much with cyclists, that people project attitudes onto cyclists as a group that just don't exist in any significant way.  I've personally talked with folks who sincerely believe that all cyclists think that they are smugly saving the environment, and that we all look down on motorists.  That we are all elitest, psychotic environmental warriers because. x Why else, they reason, would we ride our bikes in the rain? There are some eco-warriers among cyclists, but in my experience, even here in liberal Portland, OR, that most cyclists are not eco-warriers.  They cycle for many reasons.  Those include:

1. It's faster than being stuck in traffic.
2. It's time efficient in that you get a great workout during a time you would normally be sitting on your butt.
3. It's enjoyable.  It's certainly more enjoyable than stopping at the same stop sign over and over again while sitting in your car.
4. They are competitive nut jobs, and they are training for competition.
5. Weight loss.  Many folks I know who are by no means eco-warriers have become cycling enthusiasts as a result of achieving life changing weight loss and health benefits.

I admit to certain libertarian leanings, but with a dose of realism as well in that I acknowledge that there is a role for centralized government beyond which pure libertarians believe. My generally sympathetic views towards libertarian ideology make it especially hard to read this article. The video hows the author riding a bike share program bike in figure eights, exclaiming "why should I subsidize figure eights?".  The fallacy here of course is that public roads and highways are heavily subsidized with general fund tax dollars, and that nobody ever uses those roads for recreational driving.  Why should my tax dollars fund rich people driving their Mercedes to the beach?  Why are rich, educated white people using taxpayer subsidized roads to drive their expensive cars?  Why don't they have their own roads?  Why Shouldn't we be outraged by this, just as we should be outraged by rich, college educated whites using bike-share programs?  The arguments here are so sophomoric that, if I hadn't seen it myself, I would not have believed any thinking person falling prey to them. 

It should be obvious to everyone by now, regardless of your political leanings, that communities that are completely car based are ugly, loud, obnoxious, and unpleasant.  Some of us have never known a walkable, bike-able community and know nothing better than four to eight lane suburban boulevards feeding cul-de-sac's miles from the nearest grocery store, restaurant, or coffee shop.  But if you follow the market forces (high housing prices), the places that the market says people really want to live, those places tend to be less car dependent, more walkable, and more bike-able.  Even if all you want to do is go for a walk around your neighborhood or go for a jog (a group of people who don't seem to be tarred with the limousine liberal brush), one would rather live in a less car based place.  What's political about that?

My cycling glasses!

If you're a regular cyclist, you know that eye wear is extremely important.  Well, I finally invested in some real cycling glasses.   The primary barrier for me, in addition to cost, has always been my severe near sightedness.  I'm over -6 in both eyes.  After suffering burning eyes in a near freezing downpour rain last winter, I needed something to keep the water out of my eyes at a minimum and to provide more protection generally.  I was finally motivated to act.  If you have my prescription, you have only two options ; wear contacts or Bolle's prescription inserts.  The prescription inserts were not able to go all the way to my prescription, but they went as far as they could and I can't really tell the difference on the road.  They aren't perfect in their correction but they are more than adequate.  I'm happy with the purchase so far.  Contacts are not a realistic option for me.  I wore contacts for many years in my teenage and early 20's and my eyes eventually developed a sort of allergy to contacts.  Despite all of the advances in contact lens technology, I simply can't get comfortable with them.

New  wheels!

My Rolf Vectors finally wore out.  The braking surface had worn to paper thing levels, and the hubs were so far gone that they could not be rebuilt.   I estimate that they had 25k to 30k miles on them, so I feel I got my money's worth out of the Rolf's. I got a smoking deal from the Beaverton Bike N Hike on a pair of Easton EA 50's.  The wheels were a great value, but I've got to tell you, these are tire stretching, thumb numbing, tire iron snapping wheels.  I spent hours trying to get a used Conti gator skin onto the front wheel, and with numb thumbs, gave up and took it to the closest bike shop.  They mechanic there, with a tire stretcher, was not able to get it on.  Somewhat panicky, I went back to Bike n Hike thinking I would have to return the wheels.  They were able to get the tire on by using a similar tool and ganging up on it.  I'm hoping...HOPING that by switching to a foldable, and the wheel breaking in a bit, and the rim tape compressing, that I will be able to change the tire if needed in the future.  Otherwise I could be stranded.  A search of the web shows this is a somewhat common problem with EA 50's.  It seems like a manufacturing defect to me.

Running is Bad for You

For a blog title "No Excuses Cycling", I've been full of excuses the last 6 weeks.  I'm noticeably thicker around the middle and thinner in the thighs, primarily evidenced by the fit of my 7forallmankind. They actually fit better.  It should seriously take a lot longer to lose fitness and get fat than 6 weeks don't you think?  This leads me to a mini-rant on running, a boring, jarring, and slow form of human powered locomotion relative to cycling and without the beautiful, complex and expensive carbon fiber machinery. Nonetheless, it promises a very effective aerobic workout in a short period of time relative to other workouts.  And, while it's very boring, it also means you don't have to think about it...at all.  With those seductive attributes, I was drawn in.  But, learn from my mistake, running is bad for you! 

Seriously though, hope seems to be on the horizon.  My excuses may be over. This has been a fairly good weekend for the calf and I will try riding later this week.  I'm actually beginning to think it may have been a tendon or ligament behind my knee that was strained because, as the healing has progressed, the pain is localizing in that area.  Those Sevens will be baggy in the waist and tight in the the thighs again soon.  This time, I'm going to resist the temptation to go too hard too fast.  I'll only do what my strength level allows.

As I've been lying about getting fat and skinny in the wrong places, I've also been catching up on some reading.  I recommend two cycling oriented blogs.  Bike Snob NYC and Grit and Glimmer.

A time trial and trials

This is me riding the Jack Frost Time trial in the Eddy Merckx class.  Picture is courtesy of Oregon Cycling Action.  It was a cold, drizzly morning, spent in the parking lot at Vancouver Lake park alternatively on the trainer, sitting in the car staying warm, or walking to the porta potty for a nervous pee.  People watching is always fun at bike races.  I particularly enjoy looking at the vehicles that people use to bring their bikes and bodies to the races.  Next time I'll get some pictures!

I had lifted weights very hard the Sunday prior to this event, which had me doing a robot walk with legs feeling like cement until the Thursday prior.  I did get some riding in on that Thursday and a little on Friday and Saturday.  Certainly not ideal preparation for the time trial.  Nonetheless, I was signed up and rode.  I was scheduled to be the very last guy out, but a Cat 1 rider on a full time trial rig ended up going after me.  Suffice it to say, I was the last one in. I didn't want to race on my fat 25c commuting gator skin tires, so I switched to an alternative set of wheels with 23c tires just before the race.  Unfortunately, I waited too long to get the magnet adjusted on the spare set of wheels so I was without speed the entire race.  I simply rode as fast as I could go, occasionally dipping over the edge such that I had to back off and recover.  The finish line also came as a surprise, partly as a result of not being able to track distance on my odo.  The result is that I had more left in the tank than I should have at the end of the race.  So while I am not real happy with my performance, I got a pretty nice picture out of the experience. The results of the race are posted on the OBRA (Oregon Bicycle Racing Association) web site. 

A crisp winter solo ride

I skipped the group ride with the club yesterday. I feel bad, and guilty about that. Normally, I look forward to the rush of riding at high speed in a pack, and the sprint for the old abandoned feed store. At 42 years old, I have a plodding, middle aged stride when I run. But on the bike, in a paceline, I'm still somewhat powerful and fast gliding along at 25 miles per hour, with the whir of gears and chain, the pavement flying by, concentrating on the wheels around me, reading the movements of the other riders. But yesterday, I just wasn't feeling up for that. Instead, I went for a solo ride.

It was cold for Oregon. 30 degrees. But it was a rare dry day, so there was no ice at on the valley floor. I was planning to climb into the surrounding hills and wondered if there was snow and ice up there. I added a layer of fleece between my jersey and Gore Bike Wear shell in deference to the temperature. The rest of my standard winter riding gear, full length leg warmers, neoprene Seal Skinz socks and shoe covers, and a pair of Pearl Izumi cycling gloves, and a soft cotton balaclava under my helmet.

I had no group to meet by any specific time, so I went over the bike a little more carefully. There was a squeaking in the drivetrain on the last commute home, so I cleaned the derailleur pulley wheels and oiled them again. Checked the tires, aired them up and adjusted the rear brakes.

Suppressing a last minute urge to retreat to the family room for an afternoon in front of the TV, I swung my leg over the bike and rolled down the driveway. I immediately felt the bite of the air on my face as my speed increased. The TV urge returned. I peddled on.

Soft peddling, with no unspoken group competition urging me on, I climbed the first gentle rise. Cresting the hill, I clicked into the big chain ring and, with the assistance of gravity and my still gentle muscle power, accelerated to 25 mph. I tucked in my knees and elbows and leaned forward, nearly resting my chin on the stem. The cold bit in a bit more fiercely, slicing through the seam in the leg warmers like a knife, causing me to question my resolve to ride yet again. I remembered that I left my cell phone on the counter and realized that if I had a blowout, or a broken spoke, I could be stranded for some time. I thought about going back to get the phone, but I peddled on.

Leaving the suburbs behind, I started spinning up the first rural hill. With my muscles loosening up, I tried a higher gear and felt the gentle sting in my legs immediately. I dialed the cadence back just slightly and concentrated on being smooth. My breathing and cadence fell into a 'just above comfortable' rhythm. With the traffic left behind, there was no sound but the wind passing by my ears, the tires rolling over the pavement, my breathing, and the drivetrain. As the grade increased, I began to warm and no longer noticed the temperature. I had entered the happy zone and all doubts about being committed to the ride vanished. As I turned onto the steepest part of the ride up Chehalem Mountain, I geared all the way down and searched again for the steep climb rhtym, which came quickly. I have a bit of a masochistic enjoyment of the slower, push pull climbing cadence just below my anaerobic and muscular threshold. Dancing on that razor thin line is a mental as well as physical challenge; gauging the grade, the distance to the top, my fitness, how I'm feeling that day, and metering the power appropriately all so that I'll have enough in the tank to return home. I chugged along at 7 to 9 mph, past vineyards, alpacas, and Christmas tree farms until I reached the upper reaches of the mountain where the grade mercifully slackens to about 4% and I spun the bike up to 13 mph or so and sat up just a bit, stretching my shoulders. Thankfully, there were only patches of snow, and the roads seemed devoid of any ice.

The road rolls along the top of the mountain for a couple of miles with one final push to the summit where it plunges in a narrow, twisting fashion towards the town of Scholls. The descent starts off straight and steep for about 400 meters on a bare and exposed mountain top, enabling a rapid build up of speed. I tucked into my most aerodynamic position and resisted the urge to squeeze the brakes. The narrow road is steeply crowned, and feels more so on skinny bicycle tires at 40 mph. It sweeps gently to the left, but requires full concentration at this speed. The heat of the climb evaporated in less than a second as I was assaulted by 40 mph windchill. Tears welled up in my eyes from the cold air swirling around my glasses as they swept the road for gravel, sand, black ice, pot holes..anything that might mean disaster. I kept up the speed as long as I could until the tighter twisties on the lower half of the mountain forced me to brake. I carved and tucked, braked and accelerated my way to the bottom of the mountain, profoundly chilled and exhilarated at the same time. As the road turned upward again, my legs, chilled and stiffened by the long cold descent, began working again, warming up before hitting 10 miles of rolling terrain back home. And to think I might have stayed home to watch TV.