It was the summer before my senior year in high school, 1985. The triathlon was enjoying huge popularity. I was a a budding biking geek, extremely proud of my Trek 560. I was working the 3-11 and night shifts at the Steer Truck stop and logging about 100 miles per day on the bike. I was riding all over the countryside, learning every back road, every farm in the area. I did a lot of my riding at night, after the swing shift was over. I'd ride from 11 PM to 2 or 3 AM. I learned to enjoy the muggy heat of Southern Minnesota nights. On those rides, I rode, stupidly in hindsight, with no lights. I rode by moonlight and starlight. There was no sound but the whirring of my chain, the clicking of gear changes, tires on the pavement, corn stalks stirring in the breeze. There were ripe smells rising from the ditches and the heat of the residual heat from the day coming off of the black top. I was in good riding shape. At 17, I felt invincible on that bike. I did no other training that summer but ride my bike.
Then, at the end of August, I entered a local triathlon. This was before Triathlons, other than the Ironman, had formal lengths. This one started with a mile or so in the water, about 46 miles on the bike, and a 10k at the end. I was a little nervous about the swimming since I'd never been a strong swimmer, and mildly worried about the fun but I knew I could gut it out. So, I showed up at the race and put my bike among the hundreds on the beach of a lake in Faribault, MN. The gun went off and we started swimming. The first thing I noticed is that it is extremely difficult to swim in a straight line across a lake. They don't, for example, paint lines on the bottom and, the water is too murky to see the bottom anyway. I would swim for a while and then look up to find out that I was swimming in the wrong direction. I would correct but again almost immediately be going the wrong direction again. I was soon all alone. It was an out and back around a floating marker, and I was the last person in the water save for an extremely old man competing in a life jacket. A canoe with course officials and a medic began tailing me, asking if I was OK. I coughed up some lakewater and managed to squeak out that I was OK, although I wasn't too sure myself. I kept reaching down with my toe to see if I could feel the bottom. Each time my hopes would rise as I stretched my toe as far as I could, only to be disappointed. I would look at the shore in the distance and consider quitting and grabbing onto the side of the hovering canoe. Finally, I reached the beach and there was my bike, all alone in the middle of the beach. I staggered and coughed out of the water, and began the bike.
Wow! I was on fire. The course was entirely north to south, and there was a slight tailwind. It was the sort of day that you dream about. I was bunny hopping double railroad tracks in a single bound. I was blowing by other riders like they were standing still. Eventually, I hooked up with another rider of similar ability and we began, against the rules, to pull for each other. With my running shoes strapped into the toe clips, and my t-shirt billowing in the wind, and my old school 80's helmet, I could not have been more happy. I reached Todd Park in Austin, MN somewhere near the front of the pack and met my friend who was there. I got off the bike and crumpled to the grass, my legs spent and unable to hold my weight. I'd taken them to complete muscle failure.
After a few minutes, I was able to stand unsteadily, and eventually walk, with my jello like legs on the verge of giving out. I wobbled and hobbled through the 10k start line and eventually managed to make a very slow jog for some periods, but was unable to ever sustain it the entire distance. Now, those that had I had passed on the bike were passing me. I eventually made it to the finish, but somewhere in the bottom third.
I don't know if I'll ever do a triathlon again. I may stick to strictly biking. If I do, I'll practice swimming in open water!
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Novice Racing and discovering Strava
A few nice days have come to Portland, and that means no excuses for not racing at the velodrome. I signed up for fast twitch fridays, a novice friendly event put on by Bike Central. It was a timed event night featuring flying 200 meters. This was my opportunity to test my speed and not have to worry about a long mass start event that would surely expose my fitness weaknesses. Although I have a lot of miles on the road this year, and the race is only 200 meters, I was nervous and fearful of failure and the discomfort that an all out 200 meter effort can give. The one thing I've learned after getting back into cycling, is that short extreme efforts like 200 meter sprints are not something that my body has experienced in a long time. As a kid, and athlete in college, my body was accustomed to those intense efforts and had adapted to recover more easily. But now, not having gone that deep into the red in...er...many many years, the shock to my system was enormous. Long climbs in the west hills or on Bald Peak or Chehalem Mountain simply don't draw that deep. Maybe it's because, in that short effort, your mind knows you only have 15 seconds so it will go further and deeper than it will allow you to go when out on the mountain roads. As Friday eve
ning approached, I still considered dropping out. In the end I didn't, and it was a gorgeous evening at Alpenrose. All ages and sexes with shaved legs were present. I warmed up on the ancient, battered club track bike. I had great race wheels provided by the club, and the bike is in perfect mechanical condition. But everyone else seemed...so...like they belonged there. I felt out of place and inexperienced. I knew what they were thinking. Look at that Fred! Me with my hairy legs and ancient bike.
There were super fast looking men and women on expensive bikes with expensive clothing. I watched them warm up on their rollers, casually spinning out 180 rpm bursts. I wished I could ride steadily on rollers!
I also didn't know what I was doing in the sprint. I watched the other riders and got in line to do my own. The first run, the only real one I had in me, was poorly executed. I started sprinting too late, and wasn't in the sprinters lane up to full speed before crossing the start line. I hit full speed before the banking but allowed the bike to kick up out of the sprinters lane. I fought it back down and crossed the line in 14.7 seconds. I rolled around the track and into the warmup circle trying to recover. My legs were now jelly and rigamortis was starting to set in, and my lungs felt burnt around the edges. I felt like packing it in. But I got back in line for another run. It seemed to take forever, but my turn finally came. This time, I decided that I would start the sprint earlier and be at full speed and in the sprinter lane before crossing the start line. However I worried that I wouldn't be able to hold on to the sprint for the full 200 meters. As I came around the bank before the start, I stood up and hit the pedals as hard as I could, dropped into the sprinters lane, and was already hurting and struggling to hold the cadence as I crossed the start. 200 meters to go! My legs felt like they were down to 20% power, and I was breathing in big puffs like a steam engine. I kept the bike in the sprinters lane this time and entered the straight looking at the clock as the tenths clicked by. I was losing power exponentially as I struggled as hard as I could to pedal circles all the way through the finish. I crossed the line and clocked 14.43, good for second place in my age group.. A little faster, unbelievably, than my first effort, though it felt so much worse. 200 meters...doesn't sound very far, but you do really need fitness to perform your best at this event. With the right gearing, and more work on my fitness to sustain that 200 meter effort, I feel I can get that time down.
Now on to my discovery. Have you all seen those adds for strava.com? The social networking site for cyclists? I have, and I thought it was just another site for uploading gps tracks. How different could it be? But it has lots of cool features that iMapMyRide doesn't have. I particularly like how it finds segments of your rides that others have ridden and keeps a leader board. Here is a recent commute from work. Notice that there is a segment of my commute called "Terwillilger Time Trial". This segment was part of Strava, I didn't create it. Now I can compare how my ascent of Terwilliger compares to others. Check it out, I recommend it. I'm currently 14th on the Terwilliger Time Trial. Go ahead, knock me down a bit!
ning approached, I still considered dropping out. In the end I didn't, and it was a gorgeous evening at Alpenrose. All ages and sexes with shaved legs were present. I warmed up on the ancient, battered club track bike. I had great race wheels provided by the club, and the bike is in perfect mechanical condition. But everyone else seemed...so...like they belonged there. I felt out of place and inexperienced. I knew what they were thinking. Look at that Fred! Me with my hairy legs and ancient bike.There were super fast looking men and women on expensive bikes with expensive clothing. I watched them warm up on their rollers, casually spinning out 180 rpm bursts. I wished I could ride steadily on rollers!
I also didn't know what I was doing in the sprint. I watched the other riders and got in line to do my own. The first run, the only real one I had in me, was poorly executed. I started sprinting too late, and wasn't in the sprinters lane up to full speed before crossing the start line. I hit full speed before the banking but allowed the bike to kick up out of the sprinters lane. I fought it back down and crossed the line in 14.7 seconds. I rolled around the track and into the warmup circle trying to recover. My legs were now jelly and rigamortis was starting to set in, and my lungs felt burnt around the edges. I felt like packing it in. But I got back in line for another run. It seemed to take forever, but my turn finally came. This time, I decided that I would start the sprint earlier and be at full speed and in the sprinter lane before crossing the start line. However I worried that I wouldn't be able to hold on to the sprint for the full 200 meters. As I came around the bank before the start, I stood up and hit the pedals as hard as I could, dropped into the sprinters lane, and was already hurting and struggling to hold the cadence as I crossed the start. 200 meters to go! My legs felt like they were down to 20% power, and I was breathing in big puffs like a steam engine. I kept the bike in the sprinters lane this time and entered the straight looking at the clock as the tenths clicked by. I was losing power exponentially as I struggled as hard as I could to pedal circles all the way through the finish. I crossed the line and clocked 14.43, good for second place in my age group.. A little faster, unbelievably, than my first effort, though it felt so much worse. 200 meters...doesn't sound very far, but you do really need fitness to perform your best at this event. With the right gearing, and more work on my fitness to sustain that 200 meter effort, I feel I can get that time down.
Now on to my discovery. Have you all seen those adds for strava.com? The social networking site for cyclists? I have, and I thought it was just another site for uploading gps tracks. How different could it be? But it has lots of cool features that iMapMyRide doesn't have. I particularly like how it finds segments of your rides that others have ridden and keeps a leader board. Here is a recent commute from work. Notice that there is a segment of my commute called "Terwillilger Time Trial". This segment was part of Strava, I didn't create it. Now I can compare how my ascent of Terwilliger compares to others. Check it out, I recommend it. I'm currently 14th on the Terwilliger Time Trial. Go ahead, knock me down a bit!
Sunday, April 17, 2011
You Never Really Know a Road Until...
You can drive a road a million times, but it isn't until you walk, run, or bike it that you really know the road, or the neighborhood. The world looks different from a bike. So much so, I would say, that it can alter the way you see the whole world. As I write this, I'm watching a Subaru commercial. It shows newly weds driving on a remote gravel road (perfectly passable by any front drive car), encountering a bull, driving around it, and having their picnic rained out. They hop back in the car and drive back from where they came. The message is that they are an unusual couple and even though they were rained out, they have a better memory than if they had done something more traditional. More traditional than driving a car on a road? The point the commercial misses is that the experience of that place would be deeper if they experienced the route more closely. I love getting away to the wilderness, getting away from people and cars and noise. But you don't need to drive a 4x4 into the wilderness to have a new experience. Ride your bike from wherever you live to wherever you work, or downtown to a coffee shop for dessert, and you'll see what I mean. You'll notice the neighborhoods change from one to another, the smells of the cooking or the laundry. You'll hear things you didn't hear from your car, see things you never noticed.
You never really know a road until you've ridden it on a bicycle.
You never really know a road until you've ridden it on a bicycle.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Better weather (a little) means a lot more bikes on the road
Several more days of bike commuting adventures in Beaverton and Portland are in the bank. My commute takes me from far SW Beaverton on the edge of the urban growth boundary to Old Town Portland. These 14 miles take me through several bicycling cultural "zones".
Allow me to explain. You may think that all bicyclists are pretty much the same, at least the ones that are dedicated enough to ride in the cold, the rain, and the dark. You may also think that the cyclists in, say, Multnomah Village are pretty much the same as those in Beaverton or Portland. Not so. Let's start with the Beaverton zone. Cyclists in the beaverton zone fall into three general categories. These are:
1) The Hispanic on a department store bike. The bike never fits properly. The rider doesn't generally ride in a straight line or at a speed much faster than a walk. Rider usually rides on the sidewalk, and always appears to be very close to an intersection. No matter the weather, this rider is dressed in street clothes, like jeans and a winter coat.
2) The 70 something year old enthusiast rider. This rider wears bright yellow rain gear, is a bit scrawny looking, and often has a rather dorky looking helmet. This rider is always on a road bike, but it may be a vintage bike with original looking components.
3) The affluent middle aged white man, wanna be enthusiast. More often than not, this rider does not appear to be in the best of shape, but rides with vigor nonetheless. While affluent, most of this man's money goes into the mortgage, car payments, and kids. He wishes he could spend more on biking but simply can't. He wears sensible cycling clothing from Performance, or sale items from the Bike Gallery.
After slogging up the false flat of Multnomah Blvd. to Multnomah Village, there is a slight shift in the biking zone. Here I encounter two more types:
1) The younger enthusiast rider. This rider is a little younger than the affluent Beaverton enthusiast, or at least is in better shape. He is no older than mid 30's. He is not as affluent in general as the Beaverton enthusiast, but he spends more money on his bike. He has fewer other financial obligations. Here you may encounter the occasional female cyclist as well. Their cycling clothes are a little more stylish. Maybe something from Castelli. The rain gear is Shower's Pass. They don't wave to other cyclists.
2) The commuting geek. You are now close enough to Portland that the occasional commuting geek is found here. The commuting geek has a sensible bike. That's this rider's thing. He is proud of the fact that his bike is practical. He is a little to eager to point out that his bike is NOT an expensive race bike. It has permanent fenders and panniers. He rides upright on this bike, almost ramrod straight like the wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz when she steals Toto. You will see many more of these in Portland as you get closer, but you begin to see them here.
Once you enter the city center area, more breeds present themselves:
1) The retro "Look at me I am riding a bike that looks like it was made in the UK in the 1920's" female rider. It may also be a 3500 dollar 55 pound dutch bike. Although stylish, these bikes were made in a land where the maximum elevation is a bridge over a canal...and 55 pounds doesn't matter so much. This rider obviously hasn't ridden far, is usually in street clothes with some light rain gear at the most. Though she only began riding in recent months, and then only on suitable days, she effortlessly has adopted a sense of superiority over not just car drivers, but riders who have new or faster looking bikes.
2) The fixie hipster. There is nothing I can say about this guy that has not already been said.
3) The guy who wants to be a hipster with a fixie. This guy has purchased a "city bike" from a mass market maker such as Trek or Specialized which has been made to try to cash in on the "urban" trend. Or worse, it's made by Pista. The bike is a single speed with a flip flop hub and brakes. You will be most likely to find this rider at a Stumptown Coffee with his bike parked, a little too self consciously, out front.
4) Many, many workaday commuters on all manner of mountain bike and hybrid with all manner of dress.
These are the cultural cycling zones on my commute.
Allow me to explain. You may think that all bicyclists are pretty much the same, at least the ones that are dedicated enough to ride in the cold, the rain, and the dark. You may also think that the cyclists in, say, Multnomah Village are pretty much the same as those in Beaverton or Portland. Not so. Let's start with the Beaverton zone. Cyclists in the beaverton zone fall into three general categories. These are:
1) The Hispanic on a department store bike. The bike never fits properly. The rider doesn't generally ride in a straight line or at a speed much faster than a walk. Rider usually rides on the sidewalk, and always appears to be very close to an intersection. No matter the weather, this rider is dressed in street clothes, like jeans and a winter coat.
2) The 70 something year old enthusiast rider. This rider wears bright yellow rain gear, is a bit scrawny looking, and often has a rather dorky looking helmet. This rider is always on a road bike, but it may be a vintage bike with original looking components.
3) The affluent middle aged white man, wanna be enthusiast. More often than not, this rider does not appear to be in the best of shape, but rides with vigor nonetheless. While affluent, most of this man's money goes into the mortgage, car payments, and kids. He wishes he could spend more on biking but simply can't. He wears sensible cycling clothing from Performance, or sale items from the Bike Gallery.
After slogging up the false flat of Multnomah Blvd. to Multnomah Village, there is a slight shift in the biking zone. Here I encounter two more types:
1) The younger enthusiast rider. This rider is a little younger than the affluent Beaverton enthusiast, or at least is in better shape. He is no older than mid 30's. He is not as affluent in general as the Beaverton enthusiast, but he spends more money on his bike. He has fewer other financial obligations. Here you may encounter the occasional female cyclist as well. Their cycling clothes are a little more stylish. Maybe something from Castelli. The rain gear is Shower's Pass. They don't wave to other cyclists.
2) The commuting geek. You are now close enough to Portland that the occasional commuting geek is found here. The commuting geek has a sensible bike. That's this rider's thing. He is proud of the fact that his bike is practical. He is a little to eager to point out that his bike is NOT an expensive race bike. It has permanent fenders and panniers. He rides upright on this bike, almost ramrod straight like the wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz when she steals Toto. You will see many more of these in Portland as you get closer, but you begin to see them here.
Once you enter the city center area, more breeds present themselves:
1) The retro "Look at me I am riding a bike that looks like it was made in the UK in the 1920's" female rider. It may also be a 3500 dollar 55 pound dutch bike. Although stylish, these bikes were made in a land where the maximum elevation is a bridge over a canal...and 55 pounds doesn't matter so much. This rider obviously hasn't ridden far, is usually in street clothes with some light rain gear at the most. Though she only began riding in recent months, and then only on suitable days, she effortlessly has adopted a sense of superiority over not just car drivers, but riders who have new or faster looking bikes.
2) The fixie hipster. There is nothing I can say about this guy that has not already been said.
3) The guy who wants to be a hipster with a fixie. This guy has purchased a "city bike" from a mass market maker such as Trek or Specialized which has been made to try to cash in on the "urban" trend. Or worse, it's made by Pista. The bike is a single speed with a flip flop hub and brakes. You will be most likely to find this rider at a Stumptown Coffee with his bike parked, a little too self consciously, out front.
4) Many, many workaday commuters on all manner of mountain bike and hybrid with all manner of dress.
These are the cultural cycling zones on my commute.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Double workout, I'm exhausted
It's confirmed. Those strenuous hours on the exercise bike on the Oasis of the Seas made me stronger. Training with data makes a difference, I'm convinced. Monitoring my wattage was the key, or at least that's my theory. I was much stronger on the commute today, especially on the way home when I didn't leave anything on the table. I was passed coming up Broadway today after pulling away from a light. I could tell that the other rider thought he was superior by the way he passed me. I kept him in my sites and caught him on the early slopes of Terwilliger. I was running 12 to 13 mph on that section of the west hills where I had been running 9 to 10 before the trip. He caught on to my wheel and went straight at Capitol highway and I turned right. On Multnomah, I got another hanger on as I hit 28 mph on the long slow downhill section. He turned off somewhere on Olson road as we crested a rise. Turning onto Hall, I got a flat and was able to make it an Albertsons where I called for a ride. I got almost 2k miles out of that rear tire. Those Continental Ultra Gator Skins are amazing! I knew it was going to go soon, it was just a matter of time. If I'd been farther from home, I had a foldable and a tire pump in my bag.
I couldn't rest though, since tonight is the first night of the Insanity workout with Shaun T. The fit test night. I was pretty toasted from the two 1 hour rides today, but I gutted it out and recorded my numbers. It's very different from cycling so hopefully it will round out my fitness.
I couldn't rest though, since tonight is the first night of the Insanity workout with Shaun T. The fit test night. I was pretty toasted from the two 1 hour rides today, but I gutted it out and recorded my numbers. It's very different from cycling so hopefully it will round out my fitness.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
A Cruise on the Oasis of the Seas
My lovely wife earned a cruise on the Oasis through Beach Body. So I haven't been on the bike in over a week. But I did have plenty of time on the ship to workout. They have a cool exercise bike called the Expresso that provides a video screen of a route, complete with hills, competitors, and a pacer. It tracks your instantaneous and average watts. I improved by 30 watts over the course of the cruise! I'm anxious to see if I can feel that on the 'real' bike.
Meanwhile, being around all of those super fit beach body people has me motivated to hit the Insanity workout to improve my overall fitness, not just leave it all to the bike, and to clean up my nutrition a bit!
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Another great weekend ride and Spring Commute
It sure is nice not have to turn on the lights in the morning and ride during daylight hours. It's the little things ya know? The Monday commute was clear, dry, bright, and crisp. I arrived at work in an incredible mood, ready to take on the day. With a fresh cup of coffee from Floyd's, nothing could stop me! I ended up having to work late to get an RFP response out the door, so I missed the chance to ride in the waning hours of light, and the dry roads as well. By the time I was suited up and ready to ride, it was dark and pouring rain. Oh well, it was still a great ride.
Saturday served up some sunshine and a few hours by myself while the rest of the family went to the mall. That weekend lazy bug can sure be strong. I overcame the urge to waste the afternoon indoors and hopped on the bike. I immediately felt better, and, I should have guessed, the weather immediately changed for the worse. The sky clouded over and it began to rain. But I was committed now and spun out an easy 25 miles in the country side. I took the climbs easy as well, just pushing hard enough to keep up a reasonable forward momentum, making no effort to set a PR or anything like that. Just a nice day on the road.
Saturday served up some sunshine and a few hours by myself while the rest of the family went to the mall. That weekend lazy bug can sure be strong. I overcame the urge to waste the afternoon indoors and hopped on the bike. I immediately felt better, and, I should have guessed, the weather immediately changed for the worse. The sky clouded over and it began to rain. But I was committed now and spun out an easy 25 miles in the country side. I took the climbs easy as well, just pushing hard enough to keep up a reasonable forward momentum, making no effort to set a PR or anything like that. Just a nice day on the road.
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