Training - New Kit Ride

So two days ago, among other happenings, I got a package in the mail, courtesy JJ, one of my teammates. He sent me my team kit order for this year. Since I had already ridden that day I couldn't don the kit, but I decided that I'd probably use it the next day.

Unusually, I placed a conservative kit order. I suppose it has to do with my severe downturn in paygrade, as well as the fact that I have about 10 or 12 outfits from my previous (self-sponsored) team. That doesn't count all my other team kits and miscellaneous generic gear. Although much of that stuff has been relegated to mainly trainer use, I couldn't justify getting a lot of new kit stuff.

I did get a pair of shorts and a jersey (some new sponsors apparently), so now I'll have three of each. Since I already had knickers and a long sleeve jersey, I skipped those. To fill some of the "I don't have them" holes, I ordered a winter jacket, a wind vest, short finger gloves, and shoe covers. I've never had team gloves or shoe covers so that was cool.

Yesterday I dressed up for what ended up being a recovery ride. I wore all new clothes except my socks and shoes. New shorts, new jersey, new gloves, and new vest. The latter I stuffed in my pocket for the inevitable chill that permeates the SoCal late afternoons.

(I decided wearing the shoe covers would be over the top - I'd have to feel great to wear them, and I don't, so I didn't.)

I started off with some company (Julie, taking a short break from work). First order of business on the ride? Fix two flats that our bike suffered while sitting in the garage overnight. My rear tire was flat, ditto hers. I found a nice cut in her tube (and adjusted the rear rim strip to cover a suspected eyelet edge), and a thorn in my tire. I simply installed a new Michelin Krylion, my favorite training tire. I swapped my front tire too, because I wanted to put the Michelins on my wheels.

So three tire changes later we got going.

On one of the first rises, a 300 or 400 meter hill, she set such a ferocious pace that I capped the hill trailing her by 10 meters. When I finally caught my breath, I asked her if she remembered asking me if I was "being kind" when I rode with her last year (or maybe it was the year before). At that time we'd ridden a few times and I climbed side by side with her, but on a later ride I took off for some reason. That's when she asked that question.

She looked at me and nodded.

"Well, I wasn't being kind back there."

She laughed.

Shortly afterwards a truck slowly passed us, going maybe 35 or 40 mph. I looked at it longingly. Then another truck drove by. I couldn't resist. I looked at Julie and told her that I really needed to go after this truck. She smiled in understanding.

I jumped hard, shifted, jumped again, and started pedaling a bit too fast for my comfort. The truck signaled right so I zigged left and tried to catch the second truck, but he was too far away. Ends up I did a much bigger jump than yesterday (150w higher). I guess fresh legs count for something.

I sprinted vainly for a while but decided that going too far out would be not nice to Julie. I coasted and slowed, and lo and behold, she came flying past me - she must have been doing a similar effort. I sprinted to catch up to her.

She turned around just before I got to the coast, and I did the same route I've been doing recently. Relatively flat, wide shoulders, beaches and surf on one side, snow capped mountains way off on the other side.

I rolled onto the PCH, noticing a rider about 100 meters behind me as I did so. He quickly caught up to me, helped by the fact that I was doing a trackstand at a red light. I heard him say something to me as he pulled up.

"Well, I think I'm going to stop because you're stopped."

I looked and smiled. Then I almost fell over.

We started riding, Steve and I, and chatting. He was going pretty hard (at least for me he was) and we both were extremely conscious of not blocking traffic, not riding too close to pedestrians, etc. I felt very relaxed riding with him because, if anything, he rode more "by the book" than I did.

Okay, except for stop signs. But he'd wait for me after he coasted through a couple (and I tried to do a complete stop).

After the standard questions you ask when you start riding with a stranger ("Where are you going? How far up? Did you just get on the bike today or have you been riding for a while?") he looked at me and asked if I rode track.

Well now. He must have noticed my crit-bend bars. Or my extremely powerful looking quads (ha!). Julie politely mentioned the trackstand may have been a tip off. Or...

"Well, I asked because, you know, you look like you, well, like you're carrying a bit of weight for climbing."

Then he realized how that sounded and started backpedaling.

"I mean I'm not calling you fat, you're just, well, built like a, um, track racer."

I decided not to tell him that "I'm dense", like I tell the nurse at my doctor's office.

I laughed it off. Ends up his son is a Cat 1 in Colorado (and a former teammate of one Tom Peterson), so I look like a Cat 5 to him. Or a track racer, if you want to be polite about it. Whatever. He pretty much cooked my legs just cruising along, occasionally reminding me that, "Whenever you want to take off just go."

Remember in California that if you pass someone, you have to really pass them. The roads around here go on forever. You've got to maintain that higher pace for 10-15-20 minutes minumum, and it's really sort of embarrassing to get caught 30 or 40 minutes after you passed someone and they fly by you like you're standing still.

So I declined each of his invitations. Because I wouldn't be able to maintain a faster pace for more than, oh, about a minute.

I realized I had to turn around to make it home before it got really cold, so bade my latest training companion farewell.

Then I hit that stupid wind.

Why don't I ever head north when I start? Then I could ride back with the wind. Or I could head inland, where the wind isn't so ferocious.

But Bethel is windy. So wind is good. I stopped, put on my brand new wind vest, and got going, in the drops, time trialing.

In my 39x15.

After a while, like 3 minutes later, I blew up. It would be a long drag home. I tried to remember what it was like when I rode in Belgium, when I drilled it every time we hit some wind just because I could. I tried to stay on top of the pedals, tried to apply power through the full pedal stroke consistently.

Then my calves would start twinging, my hamstrings, even my back. And I'd ease up again.

I fought this way for the next 45 minutes or so, trying to convince my body it's fun to go hard in wind. And just when I was about to sit up for real, I saw three riders in the distance. Since I hadn't seen them before, this meant I was catching them. And since I had been going the same pace (200-240 watts) for the last 20 or 30 minutes, I knew I could maintain it until I turned inland. So I dug and kept going.

Ends up the three riders happened to be passing one another, but I didn't realize that until I'd passed the first one and then the second one. The third rider looked pretty powerful, but he sat up once he'd gapped the second rider. Although my legs weren't happy about it, I pulled up even with him.

I realized I was half wheeling him so I eased, and we settled into a "talking is a bit difficult" pace, side by side. He looked like a stocky kind of guy, like me, but more fit. We commiserated about the wind but otherwise didn't talk too much. I mentally sighed a breath of relief when my turn off came, and started up the "exit ramp" turn off. Incredibly I upped my pace - climbing feels much better with the longer cranks, and although I felt tapped riding along just a moment before, suddenly I found some energy from somewhere. I actually accelerated.

Then I turned onto the road that'd bring me back home. And mentally, physically, I sat up. I went easy all the way back home.

I'm finally starting to feel a little more human on the bike but my legs are loading up right away. The missus and I talked a bit tonight, a nice chat, and I realized as I was talking to her that I haven't been eating as much as I do at home. Now maybe that's good for weight control, but it's not good for fueling up for intense rides. I decided I'd try and eat a little more.

Oh, and not stay up until 2 AM like yesterday.

Training - Analyzing My Jump

Yesterday I decided I'd work on my California tan. Although my throat and head weren't feeling great, they felt okay. I (thought I) felt good enough to go out in short sleeves and shorts, and wore a wind vest to keep my torso/core warm. I found out that although warm outside when sunny, the cold wind really ate away at my heat reserves. My throat started feeling sore, I felt some pressure in my head, and I found myself feeling chilly (and stupidly unprepared) within 1.5 hours of starting out.

So, after a nice chat with the missus (we missed our daily call yesterday so we made up for it today, me leaning against the guardrail next to the sunny PCH, she bundled up in snowy Connecticut), I decided to cut my ride short and go home. I turned around at the next convenient area.

That's when the wind really hit me.

It was killer, a steady 20 mph cross-headwind. I rode in the drops for a bit, it was that bad.

I think I rode the whole PCH section of the ride in the small ring, and I found myself in lower and lower gears. It helped when I ate a FiberOne bar I'd brought along, although getting the wrapper back into my pocket (under the vest) almost caused me to ride off the road.

I headed inland, the wind much kinder. My legs didn't care - I couldn't go hard at all. I crawled up and down some hills. Some guy in a full kit, probably a commuter based on his messenger bag, positively blew by me on a particular grade. He quickly disappeared out of sight. I watched him and thought, boy, I'm slow.

A few minutes later I came up to a light. Mister Kit was there. The light turned green and we started off. Since I didn't want to act like a total dweeb, I stayed respectfully behind him. He ramped it up and disappeared again.

A couple minutes later I came up to a light, and would you believe it, Mister Kit was there again. I felt kind of bad, like he may mistake me for a cycling stalker or something. I went super easy when the light turned green, but then so did he. After realizing I wasn't going to try and pass him back, he took off again.

A couple minutes later.. Yep, I rolled up to him again. I didn't even see him until I was a few cars away from him. He again went easy, I went easier, then he went a bit harder.

Finally I watched him roll through an intersection as the light turned yellow. I stopped and hoped that I wouldn't catch him again. Of course he's probably posted on his blog about Mister Stalker who kept catching him and following him.

I felt relieved because I'd been waiting for a particular stretch of road to do an experiment. A sprinting experiment, the best kind.

On the forums someone asked for some sprinting advice, and after reading a bunch of responses, I realized I had no clue about my optimal jump cadence. I guessed it was about 90 or 95 rpms, but I really didn't know. I did know that yesterday I did a little jump and had two almost equal power peaks, both at about 95 rpms. My sprint graph resembles a ski jump - starts high, then plummets as time goes by. One of my goals is to try and extend the top of the slope so that I spend more time at the high power area.

So today I decided I'd jump at 95-ish rpm, no matter what gear it was, and shift as soon as I thought I could shift and end up at 95-ish rpm again.

Luckily Mister Kit was gone - it'd have looked really amateurish to go sprinting past him and then blow up.

I rolled down my leadout hill, braking, keeping my speed low enough so I could jump in a relatively low gear. I gripped the drops, set my body, and got ready to do a killer massive jump.

As I started up the sprint hill I checked my cadence - 80. I shifted down once more. 88. I shifted down again. I saw 90-something and BAM I was going.

I did two downstrokes with one foot before I instinctively slammed the shifter, doing another hard surge. I think three downstrokes went by before I shifted again, and I did another surge.

That's about when my head started really pounding, the lactic acid suddenly overflowed, and my legs started to wither. I hoped that maybe I had another surge in my legs, shifted up once more, and essentially fell flat on my face.

I sat down, put the bike in the 39x21, and tried to catch my breath.

When I got home I checked what happened in that little effort.

First off, it took all of 11 seconds to totally and completely fry me for the next few minutes.

Second, somehow I managed to keep my cadence such that each time I surged, I did so at 95 rpm or so. I accelerated up to about 100-105 rpms in each gear, shifted, and found myself at about 95 rpms. I shifted one gear at a time, one tooth at a time. I'm pretty sure I started in the (53 x) 15T, ending in the 12T.

Third, each of the efforts were within 100 watts of each other. Well, each of the first three. The fourth dropped off by about 25%, putting in the realm of "not really a sprint". My speed didn't drop but I wasn't going to accelerate anymore.

Fourth, my ski slope graph suddenly had a little area for skiiers to wait in line. A jagged area, yes, but an area.

So what's this mean to you?

Analyze your jump, analyze your sprint. If you know what your legs like to do, you can try and adjust the situation so that your legs are happy.

Figure out at which rpm you jump best. The jump is a vicious pedal stroke, meant to do everything possible to accelerate the bike forward. If your pedal stroke was a car, your jump would be a Top Fuel Dragster. If you don't have a downloadable cyclocomputer (SRM, PowerTap, Garmin, etc), do jumps from different rpms and figure out at which rpms you felt good. The original forum post person did just that in an effort to narrow her cadence range for her jump, but she due to limitations in equipment she simply noted rpms and how it felt for each rpm range.

Figure out at which rpm you can sustain your 5 second or 10 second power. This is different from your jump - it's a smoother, sustainable effort. To use the car analogy, your sprint is more like a Land Speed car. I didn't do any experimenting with that today because there was no way I would be able to sustain any kind of effort. However, since that power is much lower than the jump power, I'm guessing that the rpm will be a bit higher than the jump rpm.

Write things down (which is a good thing in general). Make notes after rides (or even during them if you're on a trainer). Jot down things like gearing (jump gear and ending gear), cadence (if you can get that), and ending speed (look down just after you finished sprinting). Ultimately you can calculate your cadence based on speed and gearing. If you have a cyclocomputer that records max cadence (as well as speed), you can reset the computer before each sprint. This way you'll have the data for that short period of time.

Remember trainers don't allow the bike to rock (with a couple exceptions) so your power and your form will be a bit mutated.

It's only mid-February, but we're approaching the race season fast. Working on your sprint in a logical, calculated way can pay dividends when the warmer weather finally hits.

Training - Finally?

I woke up today feeling a bit better. I didn't actually wince when I swallowed. Okay, I did wince, but that was just reflexive. The second tentative swallow didn't hurt too much. My annual California cold had turned a corner.

The weather started dreadful, raining, windy, but after a couple hours the clouds rolled away and the sun started burning through.

I decided to join my friend on a lunchtime ride. Since I hadn't eaten my second breakfast (my first one was bacon, eggs, and toast), I jammed some Fig Newtons in my mouth and washed it down with some water. I dressed pretty aggressively (i.e. warmly) for the conditions. 55-60 degrees, sunny (and a strong sun at that), and I wore the following:

• Short sleeve jersey
• Long sleeve jersey ("Roubaix" type fabric, thick)
  
• Wind vest
• Thick bib knickers ("Roubaix")
• Gloves rated to 25 degrees F
• Head cover I use down to 25 degrees F

To put it in perspective, if I'd been feeling okay, I'd have skipped the wind vest, the thick gloves, put a cap on under the helmet, and pulled on a pair of bib shorts.

We pedaled easily towards the coast, did a short jaunt down by the beaches, and turned back inland so he could get back to work. At first he seemed to hold back here and there (because he'd drop back) but that was all politeness. On the way back it took all of 600 watts of effort (on my part) to saw me off his wheel. Although my throat may not have been really sore, it didn't mean I was okay - I still had to fight some fever. Any effort, no matter how insignificant it seemed, took its toll, and I couldn't sustain anything beyond 200-250 watts.

Back at the house I climbed off the bike feeling pleasantly overheated, soaked in perspiration. I had some Gatorade (I bought two gallons in a fit of optimism the other night), decided against eating (it would draw blood into my stomach, away from my muscles), and, after a brief little internal debate, I went back out.

It took maybe three or four minutes and I found myself throwing my leg over my bike only a few minutes after I had climbed off of it. I rode back out to the coast, headed the other way, stopped by Pacific Coast Cycles, bought some wheel magnets (I didn't have any on the wheels I brought out here, and I'm borrowing one), and got back on my bike. That's about when I realized that I'd been out for almost three hours and hadn't had anything but about 10 ounces of Gatorade. I broke open a FiberOne bar (caramel, if you have to ask, and I love their cereal), chomped it down, and chased it with some water.

Of course I immediately felt bad. Must be the blood getting drawn in to the stomach, away from my legs. Or the fact that I've been sick for 5 or 6 days. Or that I'd been out on the bike for a few hours already. Or... the reasons went on and on.

I slogged my way back to home base, optimistically doing one gigantic jump before I got home.

Said jump lasted three pedal strokes, peaked at under 1000 watts (according to the SRM after the ride, I'd made two 1200 watt accelerations away from lights and I didn't "mean" to do them), and totally cooked me for the rest of the ride home.

Good thing this wasn't a race.

I got back, climbed off the bike, walked in the house. Asked, I described my route. My friend looked at me in surprise.

"But you've been gone so long..."

I could only shrug.

My friend kept asking me, "Wait, you just went to the shop and back? You only spent 5 minutes there? You didn't go anywhere else? And you took this long?"

I shrugged again.

Did I really ride that slowly?

You know, come to think of it, maybe I spent 30 or 40 minutes at the shop.

Yeah, that's it.

How To - Rock The Bike

Or "swing" as a recent internet post described it. It's what sprinters do when they're sprinting (of course) to the line, out of the saddle, waggling their bike's tail like a bunny on speed.

I don't know if it's maybe a subconscious type of movement. It seems that some riders never think about it, others have to practice it until it becomes natural. It may be like learning how to throw a baseball - some look right the first time they toss a ball, some look positively wrong. Given some practice, though, and pretty much everyone can throw a baseball.

Whatever, ultimately the motion of rocking the bike while out of the saddle is a skill you really must have in your technique "quiver". You recruit and use different muscles and you can ultimately exert more force on the bike by standing and rocking it than you can by staying seated.

The rock is a result of pulling up on the bars (on the downstroke side of the bike) and pushing down on the bars on the upstroke side. Essentially you're holding the bike in place with your hand while you push down. I find the "push down" on the bars is really more of a guiding thing since I don't pull up that hard, but when I feel the need to push down I know that I'm doing a good sprint.

The rock is not an arbitrary thing. You don't do it just because. You do it because there is a reason for each movement. The sum of those reasons makes the bike rock.

The amount of rock is usually relative to the height of the rider. Since most riders are about the same width (to wit - most bars come in 40-44 cm widths), most everyone moves their bike side to side about the same amount. It might be a foot, maybe just over that. This means a tall person is perceived as swinging the bike less because their bike tilts less (less severe angle relative to the road), but in reality everyone takes up about the same amount of space on the road. Even the most "wild" bike swingers (Abdu, McEwen, etc) use up about the same amount of road - it's just that their shorter statures make their bike swinging look so radical.

At some point I realized that tall riders simply don't rock their bikes to the same angle - imagine someone's saddle rocking back and forth four feet on each pedal stroke! That's what happened when I told my 60 (or maybe 63?) cm frame riding friend how much to swing the bike. We were discussing this in college and I used some bars to describe how much to rock the bike. Of course, when he rocked his much taller bike that much, it didn't work out. We later reduced his "rock" down to about 2 feet since, with the full rock, he ended up using so much energy moving sideways.

You can work on the rock by doing it in slow motion at super slow rpms (10-30 rpms) in big gears (53x12). This will allow (and force) you to experience the different elements of the pedal stroke individually and in great focus. I like doing this when warming up and such. It's a lot of fun - I pretend I'm in a NFL type historical clip, you know, where the football is spiraling slowly through the air while the deep voiced narrator describes the significance of the scene. Only I'm on a bike and I'm reliving some field sprint, not some touch down. You can also practice your historical bike throw too, teaching your body to instinctively end your sprint in a throw.

Don't use a lot of pedal pressure, just go real slow. You're going too fast if you can't unclip at any point of the pedal stroke and put a foot down. A skittering foot, maybe, but still, a foot down. No 30 or 40 mph efforts here. This is all drill.

Typical slow rpm movements:

1. Start with the right foot at 1 o'clock (top of power stroke), the bike would be tilted to the right. In other words your left foot is at the bottom and you can see the left crankarm in whole when you look down. The right crankarm is obscured by your top tube.

2. Push down with your right foot, pull up with your right hand, kind of like if you were trying to pull on some boots or tight jeans or just simply pulling something with your hand as hard as possible while bracing your foot against it.

As your right foot drops and you're pulling up on the bars, the bike will start to become more level.

(Note: if you're working on your downstroke only, you could literally unclip your left foot and let it dangle... then clip it into the pedal in time for the left pedal downstroke, alternately unclipping a shoe for the upstroke and reclipping it for the down stroke. If not wearing cycling shoes you can lift your trailing foot off the pedal - say if you're riding your BMX bike down the street. This will teach you not to push down with your trailing - left in this case - foot, i.e. work against your downstroke)

3. As you finish your downstroke your right foot is at the bottom, your bars are pulled up as high as you can pull them, and your bike is now tilted to the left. Repeat on left side.

Bahati (in the front, red toes) is at the top of his pedal stroke, a very aggressive pedal stroke. Candelario (green) is midway through the stroke, his bike is almost upright. Hekman (red jersey) is mirroring Bahati's position. He is throwing his bike a lot - his saddle is further out than his hip but still within his elbows.
(picture is of 2008 US Crit Championships, site is here)

You shouldn't force the rocking of the bike, it should be a result of the pushing and pulling on the bars and the pedals.

The reason why the rock is helpful is that you have a greater range of motion with your upper body. If you hold your bike rigidly upright (and that does have its merits), your muscles are locked in one position and will fatigue relatively quickly. If you swing the bike, your arm will be alternately extended and contracted, allowing you to recruit all sorts of different muscles.

A technique advantage to sprinting out of the saddle is that your bike throw becomes much more significant. A seated rider can throw his bike only a few inches forward, maybe a half a foot. A standing rider can throw his bike forward much more, a foot or more. In close races that can make the difference between a win and a not-win.

Training - Sick

After all that stuff with the cranks and stuff... I'm still sick. Each morning I wake up unable to swallow without wincing. I feel weak and feverish and my head pounds (I normally never have headaches). Spent most of today curled up watching first the abysmal failure of technology during the Tour of California (where are those weatherproof cameras that clean their lenses automatically, why can't they figure out better image relay technology, and even if they can't relay things, why don't they record to tape/harddrive for future editing?), second some various Star Wars things. I managed to get out of my shell to help mold one pretzel (we made pretzels, again), and read a few pages of a book, but otherwise I've been totally zonked. I don't get it. Talked to the missus briefly, but still in "just woke up" la-la land.

Will go back to sleep shortly. We'll see what tomorrow brings.

Equipment - SRM Updates

I first wrote "Upgrades" in the title but I think "Updates" is more accurate. I'm not improving anything per se, just refining fit and function. I had two major missions in mind back in late 2008, both gelling when I rode my trainer.

First mission: fix my broken SRM mount. My standard mount sits on the downtube just inside of the chainring spider. I broke the mount in a difficult moment on a ride (I was way anaerobic and had to shift down), and my oxygen-starved brain didn't shut off my legs until I'd sort of trashed the mount. An extra zip-tie and some electrical tape and I made it through the season, but I wanted to fix that for 2009. Also, if I was going to replace this thing, I wanted it to register speed on the trainer, so I wanted a rear wheel speed pickup.

Second mission: get 175 mm crank arms. I rode my 175 equiped Giant and felt like I could turn over gears with ease. When I got back on the 170s they seemed hard to push, like the bearings were binding. I decided I wanted 175s once again.

The first thing was to buy and install a bottom bracket sensor mount. I ordered this just before I left for CA, and in the "Notes" part of the online order form I requested that they contact me if the part would (at my house) arrive after Tuesday Feb 10th. I wouldn't be there on Wednesday (I'd be on my way to California) so I figured I'd give them the CA address if necessary. To my surprise I got a very nice email from the folks at SRM saying that I'd have the mount in plenty of time, and on Friday (?) it showed up. It came USPS (i.e. US Mail) so it may have been Saturday. Either way I decided not to install it in the flurry of "get ready to go" tasks. I just stuck it in my bag to take out to California.

The second thing on my list was to buy and install 175 mm crankarms on the bike. I've gone on and on about long cranks and, well, after riding shorter cranks for a year, I'm convinced that longer cranks suit my riding style better. 5 millimeters - it seems like a minor thing, I know, but those few millimeters give me an incredible feeling of power when attacking short rollers and such. I also think they work well for me when I'm not in great shape, and, honestly, I think I fall in that category right now. And when I say "not in great shape" that's relative to me, someone that isn't in great shape in general.

The tricky part with the uber-cool Cannondale SI SRMs is that you can't buy the crankarms separately, at least not readily. (Readily = from SRM, as I've found them to be super-efficient, knowledgable, and friendly - my transaction above was my third pleasant experience with them). So I had to go and find some cranks on eBay, doing a Buy-It-Now to assure myself that I'd get the cranks. Since I couldn't find cranks in time, I had to do the BIN on Monday night, only a day and change before I left home. Obviously the cranks wouldn't make it to CT by the next day so I asked the seller to send them to the CA address.

And lookit what the postman brought to the house!

(btw don't open the big pictures for the three below - they're all blurry as I don't have my normal camera and I didn't borrow Rich's).

The new 175 is sitting on top of the 170s. "New" is relative - they're new to me. Note the slight length difference.
(And, yes, I know, my bike is absolutely disgustingly dirty.)

The 175 right arm, complete with non-SRM spider and two chainrings. Looks naked, the non-solid spider.

See that round notched thing (lock ring) in the center of the crank? That's what holds the spider (the 5 arms) onto the crankarm.

I learned a bunch of things while researching exactly what I needed to do.

1. The SRM Cannondales come with the tools necessary to remove the crank as well as to remove the spider from the crankarm. It even includes an extra spider, so if you really wanted to, you could "lighten" the bike just a touch by using the standard spider. I remembered this on Monday or Tuesday night (last minute packing) and put the tools in my bike bag. Phew.

2. For instructions on how to remove the crankarm, just go to Cannondale's site. They have good instructions on proper technique. Regardless of what they say, this is what I did - unscrew the soft aluminum bolt holding on the arm; screw in the "inner" steel removal tool; screw in the outer steel removal tool; unscrew the inner removal tool (the inner tool immediately hits the outer one and, if you keep unscrewing, it forces it out, along with the crankarm); hold arm and marvel at the intricate machining.

I italicize inner because I didn't do that and almost broke my cranks. My friend (two mechanics are better than one) watched me for a bit then said, "Hey, shouldn't you unscrew that piece instead? Because that's how normal crankarm removers work..."

Oh. Erm. Yep.

3. To remove spider get big removal tool, get 3/8" drive socket, and unscrew normally. This means unscrew in a lefty-loosey motion if you look at the spider from the back. The spider and arm come apart like magic.

Tool and lockring on spider. They fit together very precisely.

4. The SRM spider and standard spider are machined perfectly. They both fit immaculately. Beautiful.

Beautiful machining. Click on the picture for a big version. You can see the intricate machining in the center of the spiders, the matching bits on the crank arms (one with the pedal and the arm above that). The pin tool is visible, along with the crank arm removal tools (left is outer tool, right is inner tool). I have the spider lockrings sort of haphazardly piled towards the bottom.

5. To tighten spider, put arm and spider together (they're keyed so you can't rotate them), reinstall lockring carefully and tighten to proper specs.

6. To install crankarm, place on spindle and tighten crankarm bolt to proper specs.

(Note: my idea of proper specs cannot be published since I'd then be liable if anyone's cranks falls apart - always follow manufacturer's recommendations.)

Now my bike has 175s. Beautiful. I just gotta get better (at least not so sick I can't think straight) so I can ride.

On the way to installing the arms I also hacked my way around installing the rear wheel + BB sensor SRM mount. It's easier installing the sensor kit when the cranks are off, so in the middle of the crank thing I did the sensor thing.

1. I first taped the two wires together from the SRM head (PowerControl) side to the sensors. I prefer to have one thick wire than two little ones.

2. Then I put the BB sensor on. That's my base so I started there and radiated outward.

3. I ran my "two-wires-taped-together-as-one" (cue U2 here) along the downtube and up to the PowerControl.

4. I then ran the rear wheel pick-up as far back as I could. I don't have a magnet so I'll have to align things up later.

Phew.

This called for a nice stiff drink. Or steak salad, garlic fries, and a short shopping trip to buy some orange juice and other training essentials.

My friend took my bike for a spin, so he's the first one to ride the bike with that combo. It was kind of hard to read the PowerControl, and we didn't zero it first, but he mentioned seeing 360 watts or something. Mind you he's riding a bike 13 cm smaller, in sneakers and pants. But, still, the number seems low, so I'll have to check that initial SRM number thing before I ride tomorrow.

I just realized I should do the ratty tape over, and swap the super heavy (and cut) tires out for the lighter and nicer Krylions, but if it doesn't happen, not critical. I can do it next week.

Hopefully I am good enough tomorrow to ride a bit. Legs are totally fine, no soreness anywhere (saddle, legs, arms, shoulders, neck).

I'm ready to train. I just hope my body is too.

Training - Sick

I'm in California, the sun is out, and I'm sick.

What else is new?

Arg.

California - PCH Ride

My trip so far has been relatively straight forward. I've had a number of things go well. My flights were reasonable, the flight crew were, in the second leg of my flight from Newark to San Diego, quite literally the best I've ever seen (Conti flight that departed at 8:29 AM, but not really due to people taking time to get in their seats).

One of the light moments: "Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm pleased to announce we are exactly halfway to San Diego. And for the passengers on the left side of the plane, if you look out your windows, you will see.... absolutely nothing."

I, of course, was already craning my head around, looking for something out there in the featureless flat, brown land.

Another moment: "If you tell me, within 5%, how much of the daily recommended allowance of sodium the Bloody Mary mix has, I'll give you this (vodka)."

I guessed 90% (it's salty stuff).

"It's... 83%."

The passengers around all did that "Ohhhh!", like when someone answers the game host question wrong. But the guy smiled and said that was close enough.

I saved the vodka.

Curiously the plane had no TV, no radio, no real food (egg sandwich). But it was a great flight.

Due to the various charges for carry on luggage, I cut back my luggage to only one clothing bag for both my bike gear and street wear. I didn't realize how aggressively I cut back until I realized that I have only three short sleeve shirts (and I wore two of them on the plane). I have only one long sleeve shirt (and I wore that to bed). One pair of shorts, two jeans (wore one on the plane).

I have just two pairs of cycling socks (and, again, I wore one on the plane). I have onesies of all my bike gear, except I have two shorts and two jerseys.

I even left behind my clear rain jacket.

Forecast tomorrow?

50s. And rain.

So I'll be doing laundry pretty much every day.

My bike made it in fine condition here, and it went together well. I couldn't figure out how to use the floor pump here so I finally resorted to using my mini-pump to get the tires to about, oh, I'd say like 70 psi. I decided to ride gingerly and not hit anything too hard. The bike rode softly though, thanks to the abnormally low tire pressure. I forgot my wheel magnet so I have no speed, and I had to finish swapping pads for the aluminum rimmed wheels. I decided to hold off on installing a pair of Michelin Krylions, staying with the cut and worn steel bead Schwables instead. I also left the ratty tape on the bars.

Today's ride was pretty good. I wore my one pair of knickers, my last pair of clean socks, one SS jersey, my one LS jersey, my one vest, my one cap (I only packed one cap??), my one pair of long gloves (with my one pair of short gloves in my pocket). As my first ride in this world this year I did nothing crazy, just a nice cruise down the PCH, a climb up Torrey Pines, and a death march back home.

Okay, "death march" is a bit of an exaggeration but I definitely struggled on the way home. Cross headwind until I turned inland, but by then the stiff tailwind couldn't help me.

On Torrey Pines climb (which went surprisingly well) someone caught me at the top, a tall lanky guy in a DeWalt kit. We rode together for a bit. I asked if he raced, and he told me he raced "a while back". Now, normally, if I ask someone if they raced, they'll say something like, "Yeah, I used to be a 3" or whatever. So the non-specific answer set my pro-sense on alert.

"When most people answer so non-specifically, it means they were really good. Were you a pro?"

"Um, yeah", he admitted sheepishly.

He said he did mainly crits, mainly a domestique, but also did pursuits and other track events. He didn't like climbs or sprints. I decided to hold back on my "Oh, man, it's got to be so cool to be at the front of the field, chasing the break, and looking back and seeing all these really good guys groveling on your wheel."

I saw him eyeing my bars. I regretted leaving for the ride without redoing my tape, without cleaning the bike a little more. I told myself he was just impressed that I had an SRM.

Probably because I didn't open my mouth and say that, he was a nice enough guy. I almost t-boned him when he unexpectedly turned right (and he was to my left) and, being risk averse, he gave me plenty of room on the switchback descent we slowly descended. He went easy enough so I could stay with him up one of those 500 meter pain-in-the-butt hills. Then he turned off to go back to work and I immediately eased up.

Phew.

When I ride slowly I think a lot. I thought about buying a rain jacket for tomorrow, but I figure I'll buy it... tomorrow. So I rode right past a couple bike shops.

I thought about what the ex-pro said about Palomar - that if I want to make an attempt, I had better do it soon, before it rains. I think today may have been my last chance for maybe 4 or 5 days. Apparently they closed the road up there recently, it's been that bad.

I looked down a lot riding slowly - I have the time to look down because it'll take me a few seconds just to get to the edge of my peripheral vision. I like riding with box section rimmed wheels. I'm not sure why, but, over a few hours, I had a few ideas. It might be that the look (spidery pieces of metal) and feel (kind of heavy) of the wheels remind me of my early riding days. It might be that it makes me feel like I'm in Belgium again. Or... I don't know. I just like it.

I managed to remember to take a few sips from the bottle, and although I didn't get hungry, I knew I started to run on empty when my legs loaded up as soon as I tried to make an effort. I thought about stopping for food but decided against it - I didn't want to get my bike stolen or dwaddle long enough in the store that I get caught in the dark.

I did chase one schoolbus, the kids inside screaming (with delight? fear? derision? I don't know), but on a long false flat I had to pretend that I didn't want to chase it any more. On a different day I hope that I'll be digging deep to keep the speed up.

Right now all my clothing (from the plane and from the ride) is hanging on a drying rack. See, in SoCal you can hang clothes and they don't get mildewy like they do in CT. So they're dry, ready to get wet on tomorrow's ride.

Now to bed.

Equipment - Free Aero Wheels in 52 Weeks

Just paypal me $500 and I'll give you a secret method for getting free aero wheels. Sell the first pair for $500 and the next set will be free.

Not.

I read this recently: Starbucks announces $3.95 "value meals"

This bit of news rekindled a long dormant post for me. Let me tell you a (short) story about coffee.

I recently started taking coffee to work in a nice, stainless steel thermos. It's a tough and durable one - I've been using it on and off for maybe 10 years, usually at Bethel. It holds about 6 cups of coffee, or three mugs' worth. I sip a half cup or so at a time and the coffee is surprisingly hot even 5 hours into the day. A $2.50 bag lasts a while, so much so that I consider it almost free, especially compared to the $2-4 cups of coffee I could buy down the road from where I work.

I also started bringing to work bits and pieces of leftovers, fruit, and other things I normally don't eat. If I feel a twinge of hunger, I munch on whatever I brought to work. I'll also start off the day with a few slices of bread with peanut butter and such, something with protein, filling, easy, prevent me from buying food when I'm hungry.

You may see where this is leading.

Instead of spending $4 a day on a breakfast "value meal" (initially this post was simply on not spending $4 on a coffee), spend nothing. Spend 4 extra minutes making coffee (two batches for our 4 cup pot), wolf down some PB&J slices, and go to work with some yogurt or something healthy and snacky.

And when everyone goes out to get coffee, pass on the offer to join them. Or, if you need to go for political/social reasons, go but don't buy anything. Those $4 meals end up costing more anyway as you give into hunger temptation. I know, I loaded up with about $20 of food before getting on my flight the other day - soda, water, trail mixes - and all I wanted was a bottle of water.

Whatever. Don't buy anything. When you get back (or when you say, "No, I can't go, I have to finish so-and-so's account"), stick $4 in your "Carbon fiber wheel jar". And take another drink from your thermos.

Ask for a sticker from your target wheel company so you can put it on your thermos. Remember why you're not buying a $4 coffee everytime you think about it.

Toss in extra money when you can. Someone give you some extra dough in change? Toss it in there. A little present, gift Visa card? Into the CF Wheel Jar.

After 50 weeks of this (2 weeks vacation), you'll have $1000. Add 2 more weeks for shipping and such. $1040. That should get you a pair of nice, tall profile, functional and cool looking carbon fiber wheels.

While I may not be technically correct (those $1k wheelsets cost about $1100 with all the shipping and stuff), it'll be close enough to being enough. You could get, for example, the Williams 58mm clincher for $999, and they sometimes offer free shipping.

You could always go used too. I got my DV46Cs for $955, with two Ti cassettes, two new tires, two latex tubes, and even a pair of wheel bags.

Look, it may seem like a long time, a year. But unless you're on a fast track to turning pro (and if you are, you're not worried about getting enough gear), you have plenty of time. A year or three, it doesn't matter when you're in the sport to have fun.

And although they may not make you race that much better, aero wheels are just plain cool. And pro looking. And fun.

Worth a little sacrifice, no?

How To - Packing The Bike, Soft Case

So, once more, I'll be going to SoCal for some riding. Based on the weather forecasts it'll be a bit chillier than usual, but much better compared to the 20s and 30s here at home.

Of course I'll be riding, ergo I need a bike. I could rent one out there, ship one, even buy one (like a cheap road bike for $300), or, in what makes the most sense for me, I can fly with one of my bikes. And since I want the bike to show up in one piece, I have to pack it well.

I've flown with my bike numerous times, slowly building up courage to include nicer and nicer parts. I would leave behind my "good" bike, my "good wheels, but when I brought even the nicest clinchers and tubulars I have, things were fine.

The kicker is that I use a soft case, not a hard one.

Here are some of my packing tips:

Anchor bike in bag. Wrap contact points with padding.

My travel bag includes a BB holder and a fork holder. The fork is easy, just clamp with a quick release lever. I use an old fashioned toe-strap to hold the BB down, not the T-bar and nut designed for it. The T-bar (the "T" sits on top of the chainstays, the nut pulls it down) will inevitably dent the chainstays because I'll inevitably tighten it too much, so I never used it. Toe straps are nice, they slip a bit if you really pressure them, and they are quicker to secure than a nut and bolt.

Remove rear derailleur from dropout.

I unscrew the rear derailleur from the dropout. This way I eliminate the weakest point of the bike. I leave the cable and chain attached - no adjustments necessary on the other end of the trip.

Rear dropout spacer, with rear derailleur tucked between the stays.

I also use a rear axle, with axle nuts in place, as a dropout spacer. Although a severe impact will bend everything, the spacer will tie together the rear triangle, making it more resistant to lateral impacts. I used to use a trashed hub as a spacer, but the axle is just a bit more tidy.

Seat, bag, and blinkie all in its own wrapping. Note my collection of toe straps (for packing the bike).

Again, wrap everything that contacts other things. I remove the post (after marking its position) as a unit, with the seat bag and blinkie in place. I wrap the unit up and set it aside for now.

Front brake.

I always forget to loosen/remove the front brake before I put the frame on the travel case holder (i.e. the fork and BB mount). The problem is that I have to unscrew a long brake nut and the downtube is in the way. It's much easier if you can turn the fork to one side before unscrewing the brake nut.

Also note that the grey packing material says "Front Brake" on it. After recreating all the various packing "units" for each part of the bike for every trip, I had the brilliant idea of labeling them all and reusing them. At first I used silver Sharpies on black duct tape covered in clear packing tape. This system lasted a few trips, but as the various layers of tape peeled off, I resorted to the primitive black Sharpie directly on the packing foam.

Front brake wrapped.

Front brake has a cable and sharp bolt sticking out of it - I wrap it well.

Wrench, headset spacers, fork cap, and the stem...

Although not required, I remove my stem. I figure it's a pretty big lever and if some luggage handling gorilla leans on it too hard, he could snap the carbon steerer. To avoid this risk (and all this is about reducing risk), I remove the stem.

The problem with removing the stem is that the headset no longer holds itself in place. With the ubiquitous "new" threadless stem systems, you need a stem (or stem-like thing) so you can tighten down the fork top cap.

Hence the spacers. I lost my whole set of carbon spacers when my stem "packing unit" broke open during the move. Now, honestly, I thought that was kinda cool - carbon spacers for packing the bike - but it's unnecessary. So I recruited the SystemSix spacers (huge ones) to sub in.

Voila. Secure fork and headset.

No fork bouncing around inside the head tube when I get there. And, yes, that happened to me on a different bike. I was not a happy camper. Note: use only gentle pressure on the cap - the point is to hold the fork in place, not to preload the whole front end.

Now what to do with the stem?

I also remove the stem from the bar. I have an aluminum bar so it's not that I'm worried about breaking said bar, but it makes packing the bike easier. I put it in a packing foam unit labeled "stem". When I'm not traveling I leave the spacers in the "stem" thing.

Bar secured. I know, I have to wrap my bars.

I toe-strap the bars in place so that they cradle the fork and top tube. This makes the whole area a bit stronger from pushing-type forces.

I put the wheels in wheel bags. Wrap the various frame tubes. Stick the seat/post unit upside down in the rear stays (tape in place, easier than toe straps). Make sure you put the pedals, stem, and various accessories in the bike bag. I carry my shoes with me, but I put two helmets in the bike bag (bulky but light items are good for bike bags).

Hey now. Ready to fly.

I've flown with two wheelsets (the bag is designed for that, apparently), boxes of Powerbars taped to the bag frame, lots and lots of bike clothing, tires, etc.

Other things you want to pack:
1. Tape gun. Like for packing tape.
2. Good, thick packing tape. The kind that sells for $7.99 a roll. Don't get the cheap stuff. It's your bike, not just a random box of papers.
3. Tubes and tires. I leave a few in the bag, "just in case". I've used more than I like, and I've loaned out a bunch too.
4. Allen wrenches, especially an 8 mm. This in case you need to assemble the bike for whatever reason (like I forgot the key to the place when I arrived). You need the 8mm for pedals, usually.
5. Your name and number, in case you get lost and the bag can't find you. I have a card in there.

Don't pack:
1. Your cycling shoes. The shoes are like a combination of Houdini and the Green Goblin, they will escape anything you put them in and then proceed to kill your bike. Cleats are vicious, dangerous weapons to your frame. Put your shoes in your carry on.
2. Your cyclocomputer. I've lost mine from the bag a few times (a slightly opened zipper and zoom, stuff flies out of there). Ditto MP3 players and such.

Now to catch my flight!