Training - Outlook For Today is Sunny, Fast, and a Drum Brake

I was itching to try the new stem (and the rest of the bike) a bit more, but things kept me off the bike for a day. Therefore it was Sunday before I could get on the bike. With the high the prior day at 86 degrees and similar temperatures on tap for today I knew the ride would be hot.

I just didn't realize which hot.

I usually approach group rides with a bit of trepidation. I'm not strong overall and I rely on being able to draft effectively in order to stay with the majority of riders. I prefer larger groups that have a reasonably low proportion of very fit riders.

My guide today, like it was back in 2009, was a fellow BikeForums rider named Dennis. He selected a ride based on my temporary base camp, his home, and the ride start location. He chose a ride that would be "about 46 miles" that would take about 2 hours.

46 miles? In two hours? That's really fast, at least for me.

On the other hand this was Florida so it'd be flatter. Unfortunately for me (or maybe fortunately) I didn't realize the implications of the whole "there are no hills" thing.

It meant everything revolved around wind.

It also meant there were no downhills; other than a few seconds here and there we had no "easy" spots. In other words it was a full out FTP type of ride, exactly the wrong type for me.

All this was in the future of course. First my ride host drove me to the meeting lot. As we arrived first I got to meet everyone as they rolled in.

I got my bike ready, easy enough with just putting the front wheel on and checking the tire pressure. I had my various stuff all set, a saddle bag with my tools and two tubes, and a valve extender taped to the downtube. I had a third tube, phone (Strava), wallet, and a few bars in my jersey pockets. It was over 70 degrees at the start, and when I got my arm warmers and vest out, my host Dennis grinned and told me it'd heat up quickly and to leave them behind.

The tandem couple told me we'd be seeing a WW2 era tank and an animal shelter/farm kind of place that had a zebra, ostrich, buffalo, and some other unusual animals. My eyes lit up with the mention of the tank - I love military history stuff, especially to do with WW2, and I enjoy being able to see tanks above all. I asked if he knew what kind of tank it was - maybe it was the ubiquitous Sherman but it might be a more unusual Chaffee or a Stuart (we have one in Connecticut that I've seen) or an exotic Grant. He admitted he didn't know but that I could tell him what it was. Deal.

With introductions all around we set off, the tandem couple leading us, six singles (aka regular bikes) following. One single rider told us in advance he'd be peeling off quite early, netting us five single bikes for the majority of the ride.

As a novice tandem rider I have to admit I was in awe of the tandem couple's skills. I guess riding a tandem for 27 seasons will do it, covering something like 1000 miles a month. A month!

They stood and sat without any signals or words, and the stoker (the rider in back) would stand alone sometimes to give the bike some oomph.

Both riders standing fluently on the tandem - impressive!

We headed out and my stiff back and new stem combined to make things a bit uncomfortable. I did a short pull after the tandem couple dragged us through the first section of turns and such. When I pulled off they said, "Nice pull!" Very supportive, and something that happened regularly through the ride, this unexpected support from people who were strangers to me.

One of the guys, probably the strongest on the ride, asked me where I lived. I told him Connecticut, where it was 16 degrees when we left. His mouth dropped - he couldn't even think about temperatures like that.

It got a bit more business like once everyone warmed up and we were rolling along in single file in short order.

The group flying through a park that fascinated me the last time I was here.

I hung on while we drilled it through a park. I started focusing on keeping the gap closed, on staying on the wheel.

Things got fast on the MUP section heading north, with everyone raving about the tailwind and how fast we could go. Well unfortunately for me a tailwind means less shelter and the enthusiastic pace made it hurt even more.

I realized I was spinning pretty quickly (for me), spinning a bit quicker than some of the others on the ride. I'd stayed in the small ring (a 44T in this case) and it seemed to work fine. I looked around, though, to see what the others were doing, and they were all in the big ring.

I shifted into the big ring.

My cadence dropped a bit, I could stand effectively, and I could keep up without overspinning when the pace surged.

I started digging deeper, going into the red.

We headed off the trail and then north again. At some point the guys were really pushing, going hard, and then they spread out a bit, fanning out behind the first rider. I sensed a sprint coming up but without any references, without any info on the sprint, I didn't know when or where to go.

Plus, to be honest, I was so tweaked I couldn't think about going.

When the guys started going I just kept my pace constant, watching them ride away from me.

The group starts to go for some invisible line; unusually I merely sat up.

I somehow got 4th fastest on Strava for this "First Monty" segment.

Sure enough this was the bit just before we stopped for food and water. Someone bought a gallon of water and we all partook. The heat - I think it was 85 degrees - affected me a bit more than I thought and I drank a bunch of water.

We set off and I started getting a bit dizzy. I ate a protein bar for breakfast and that's it, and I didn't feel that great anyway, and now I was hungry. I chowed down a bar, feeling pro, and started feeling a bit better.

At some point we passed a tank. My Contour battery died (I'd plugged it into the wall not knowing it was controlled by a light switch so when others turned off the light for the night my Contour didn't charge) so I don't have an image or even location of it, but another rider asked me about the tank.

"Vietnam era, M60 tank."

I realize now it may be an M48 tank (to me that's most likely) or an M47 or M46 tank, all Patton tanks. Whatever, at that moment I was proud simply that I could lift my head enough to see the tank, forget about trying to ID it.

At some point we went by the animal shelter/farm place but I had no clue what was happening at that point. I was deep in the red, my legs twinging, my eyes were probably starting to roll around in my head.

I kept pushing, driving, trying to stay on wheels. The relentless pace on the flat roads was totally different from the peaky type style I prefer. Florida emphasizes FTP. Connecticut emphasizes short term power. I have no FTP. I have short term power.

After another five minutes, another five minutes, another corner, another skipped pull, my mental walls started crumbling. I realized that I'd have to sit up shortly, to ease up. I didn't have it in me for another five minutes, another intersection. The gaps would start opening soon and not closing.

My pair of deuces wasn't enough for this card game.

I prepared myself to holler to my host that I had to fold. I quickly chowed down on a second energy bar, washed down with some still-cool water. I looked down at the SRM, I'm not sure why. The top line, which alternates every five seconds between time and miles, read 44.6 miles.

Waitaminute. The ride was "about" 46 miles. With this relentless just-over-my-comfort-level FTP type pace, I couldn't go another 30 or 40 minutes but I could definitely make it another mile.

I even responded to the last semi-surge before we got to the parking lot.

I made it.

The tandem couple had a cooler in their minivan with lemonade and ice tea. Although I passed on the ice tea (actually I didn't know about it and already returned my cup) I took in the cool, soothing lemonade.

(The lemonade is a great idea for summer rides and races, btw.)

I learned that one of the guys used to do Bethel (he's from New York). The others were mainly in Florida, but incredibly none of them raced, not for 6 or 8 or 10 years minimum (the New York guy), and the others not really at all.

I clipped in and out of another rider's Keo Blade pedal. It didn't seem as tight as my original Keo Carbons. I want to try the new Keos that have a much higher retention pressure (the Blades were 16 nm, the new ones are 24 nm).

We headed out as if on signal and Dennis dropped me off at my home base. I felt a bit better by then, not quite as shell shocked as when I first climbed off the bike.

I had some more thoughts on my ride and experience as well.

First, this was one of the first proper group rides I've been on since I think 2011. I've ridden with someone, meaning I've caught or been caught on a training ride, but I don't remember actually starting and finishing a ride with a group since I used to ride with a local shop's Monday and Wednesday rides.

I was surprisingly unnerved when we first rolled out so I intentionally sought out the tandem. I knew it would be less jumpy, sort of like an 18 wheeler versus a sports car. After about half a mile I got over my nervousness and within 10 or 15 minutes I was comfortably sitting a few inches away from the next wheel.

Second, I had some back issues at the beginning of the ride. Due to Junior being awake for a large part of the night I was up as well. What little sleep (1.5-2 hours) I got was on a strange-to-me bed so it wasn't an ideal night of rest. Therefore I arrived at the ride with really stiff back and I worried a bit about my somewhat radical looking stem. It basically keeps my drops at my earlier level but drops the tops and hoods by 3 cm.

At first the stem was a bit much with my back protesting for probably the first hour of the ride. As things warmed up, both temperatures and efforts, my back loosened up considerably. I found myself on the drops more and more, getting to the hoods only to stand up to relieve pressure (and focusing on not pushing my bike back when I stood up). Except once, when I inadvertently swerved when checking my six, I think I succeeded in being a smooth enough rider.

Third, when I'm maxed out FTP-wise I'm not inclined to sprint.

Fourth, I appreciate a friendly and open group. The riders accepted me without any problems, rode smoothly, and allowed me to take short pulls (the latter was critical for me!). My host thought I took short pulls because I didn't know where to go but they were all more than accommodating in terms of hollering out directions and such. I feel confident that I'd have had no problems leading the ride, at least from a directional standpoint. From a strength one? No way.

Unfortunately the trip wouldn't allow me to schedule another ride so it meant I'd be doing solo efforts until we headed home. Although slightly disappointed I kept in mind that the main reason we headed down was to visit family, not for me to do a training camp. I was fine with doing solo rides when I could and even not riding if necessary.

I just hoped that I'd be able to do some efforts on the bike, mainly so I could see how the stem (and the resulting bar position) affected the bike. I hoped for, and planned for, an improvement, but obviously I wouldn't be able to confirm that until I went out and ripped out a sprint or two.

That's the plan anyway. We'll see how it goes.

Training - Florida Training Camp - The Trip Home

We spent the last day traveling, waiting, and traveling some more.

The prior evening I packed the bike under Pap's watchful eyes. He's been teaching me how to fly on the Flight Simulator (he can't fly himself for real anymore). He even taught me the basics of flying a 737, which, coincidentally, would be the type of plane we'd be taking home. We did some autopilot stuff, trim stuff, and then we came in for a landing. I came in a bit low but didn't wipe out on landing.

Good thing, right?

Anyway, he sat and watched me pack up my bike, and Haley joined us too. Pap commented on this and that, reminded me not to forget my wrenches, nor my bottles, nor my helmet (all of which I almost forgot).

Actually I was trying to set a base up so I could return without bringing too much stuff but I failed. Okay, maybe not, but I could think of worse places to train.

We returned our rental car, waited a bit, got a shuttle to the airport, waited a bit more.

In line for checking luggage I heard the typical murmurs behind us.

"I don't know, it's a real big bag. What do you think it is?"

Finally someone piped up.

"Excuse me, excuse me! Sir! Excuse me. Could you tell me what you have in that bag?"

"A bike. Like a bicycle bike."

"Oh."

I could hear disappointment. It became clear why in the next couple seconds.

"We thought it was a harp."

Harp?

The missus and I started chuckling.

But then I thought, hm. Maybe next time I can avoid the bike bag fee by saying it's a harp...

Of course, it's not worth it on Southwest since the bike costs only $50 to fly (and I can check another bag for free), but for those of you on $175-per-bike flights...

After the harp incident we sat down for an early lunch. I took the opportunity to imbibe a bit - a nice Chili's margarita at 11 in the morning. Hey, look, I'm on vacation. My diet took yet another hit with that drink so I just had a bowl of soup.

My calories kept adding up, ditto my grams of fat. I'd been having consistent 2300-2400 calorie days, well over my target 1800, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.

I started dreading the morning weigh-in at home.

The margarita had the pleasant effect of making the flight go by pretty quickly. It helps if you fall asleep before reaching cruising altitude.

Not that I'm condoning using alcohol use, but I felt pretty refreshed when I woke up.

We landed pretty hard, and I know that because of my extensive experience flying 737s on the Flight Simulator. Actually, seriously, we did seem to come in high and set down kind of fast. We almost overshot our taxiway too, so I stand by my statement that we came in kinda high and fast.

(Of course, if it had been the game, I'd have seen the red and white lights indicating high or low.)

We got home okay, looking forward to seeing the kitties. I clambered up the stairs with the bike bag, opened the door.

Bella was there, looking, but I must have looked like an alien to her.

Her fur fuzzed and she ran away.

She came back after I made a few trips, and within a few minutes she'd calmed down.

Bella, less fuzzed and more relaxed, on the bike bag.

We were home.

Bonus?

The next morning, I weighed myself.

I was half a pound lighter than when I left.

Booyah!

Training - Florida Training Camp - Day 7 - Winding Down

Tuesday afternoon I set off with DM for the last ride of my trip. We'd do pretty much the last section of the Suncoast Trail that we hadn't done, about 17 miles worth. Combined with the 6 or so miles in Starkey Park (our start point), it'd be "about 46 miles" according to DM.

DM, one of my two trusty guides in Florida, in Starkey Park.

Out of Starkey Park I took some pictures of the immaculately repetitive and fake looking landscape.

Copy/Paste landscape. C/P palm bushes, c/p trees. Looks fake.

I'd swear up and down that this was all done on a computer.

I also saw a prehistoric little armadillo, probably the most fascinating thing I saw on my trip here. Spindly legs, huge armored back, the tiny pointed head... Hard to comprehend.

Spot the prehistoric animal in the picture.

No alligators, alas.

We did see a bald eagle, but I didn't have my camera out so no pictures. Just look at your closest patriotic poster and you should see one.

We headed north into a slight northern wind, maybe a 5 mph headwind. Ideally things would stay the same and the return trip would bless us with a 5 mph tailwind. DM set a steady tempo, slightly above my comfort level, and I churned along next to him, talking when I could, staying silent when I couldn't, and when I was in real trouble, tucking in behind him.

I staked out what I thought were some slight rises, keeping them in mind. I wanted to do a jump or two on the way back, and I wanted to get a decent rolling start. One stretch in particular had distinctive fencing lining a long straight, barb wire curving over the top of the fence. I decided I'd do my return jump there.

As we rode north I could feel my prior rides, the muscles used outside but not on the trainer, muscles that had forgotten what it was like to pedal a bike that could tilt side to side, muscles that pedaled when I was tired and hunkered down in the drops.

When we got to the northern trail end, the wind had suspiciously died down a touch. After a short pause (where I munched on 900 calories of "low calorie" bars), we started back. Sure enough, when we turned around, the northern wind had transformed into a western one - we'd be riding into the most annoying kind of crosswind, the kind that feels just like a headwind.

My bike in "Florida Mode"

At least yesterday we had a ferocious crosswind, one that required me to sit almost directly next to DM in order to get any kind of a draft. Today I only had to sit 6 inches to one side of his wheel to get a draft.

I felt a little more capable - the SRM told me that I was doing 180-200 pretty consistently, whereas on the way up I'd been struggling with DM's 220-240 watt pace. I learned from the prior days that he faded a bit in the second hour, and I found myself on more even terms.

I didn't want to "attack" DM unexpectedly so when we got closer to my barb-wire zone I told him I'd be doing a jump, an acceleration to test my legs.

Of course, as soon as I said that, the westward wind picked up a bunch of strength.

We came up to to my target stretch and I decided I'd let it go. I'd do the effort in Starkey Park. If I was going to fight a wind in a sprint effort, I'd do it into a headwind, not some deceiving kinda-sorta cross-headwind.

I let DM know of my updated target as we turned into Starkey Park. Hoarding some energy, I sat on his wheel a bit more, trying to stay at a low pace (under 100 watts) before my "test". We passed through the wandering bit of the trail, and when it straightened out, I launched.

I accelerated from only 19 mph, I think my 53x19, and after I got up to speed, I shifted into the 17, 15, 14, and finally the 13. I overgeared a bit, typical for my first sprints in a while. I also didn't have a goal, a finish line, even a landmark, so when I didn't feel like it I abruptly stopped pedaling.

I checked the numbers after the ride. Although a bit disappointed, I had to remember that this was not even January.

I peaked at 1268 watts, much lower than the mid-1500s I've seen as early as February of a given year, but higher than anything I've done recently.

More significantly, I held just under 1200 watts for 10 seconds, and averaged just under 1000 watts for the 22 second effort. These longer efforts bode well for the final half lap of a race, where I typically hold 1000 watts before I launch a sprint.

Leadouts, as nice as they are for the sprinter, aren't very easy, and if I'm going to see a leadout or two, I don't want to explode when my leadout man pulls off at 150 meters to go.

Towards the end of the ride, before my test, I did some reviewing. I'd found myself going to the drops after less than 90 minutes of riding. I felt much more comfortable there, with my back a bit lower, my lower back stretched out a bit. As a bonus I could use less wattage to go the same speed.

It helped that I was a bit thinner than last year. Before, when I went to the drops, I'd end up thumping my stomach with my legs. Now, not so much.

I also kept in mind my new soon-to-arrive frameset, with an effective length increase of 6 cm or so. Although it may be just cognitive dissonance, I find myself feeling cramped lengthwise. I want to stretch out, stretch that back out, and get into a nice, low position.

It reminds me of the couple times I got to see pros up close on the bike. I had the priviledge of getting passed by one Chris Horner in California, more than once in fact. I was amazed at how low he rode, even on the hoods.

The other pro I got to watch, at a crit where he rode away from a chasing P12 field, is Skip Hamblin (sp?). He may not be in the same class as Horner, but he was so fast, so smooth, he looked like he was on a motorcycle.

And that's what I think of when I see the pros race - they look like they're on a motorcycle.

Their upperbodies are low, almost motionless. Their legs spin very fast (except Mark McCormack, who looks like he's trying to break his bike, not pedal it).

And they go fast.

That's my goal, then. I want to get my long, low frameset, train in a long, low position, and go fast enough like I'm on a motorcycle.

Even if it's just for a half lap or something.

You gotta start somewhere.

Training - Florida Training Camp Day 6 - Pushing Through

Today I went for a ride with DM, the first guy I rode with here. We set off on the Suncoast Trail again, this time further north. We did a nice loop to the northern end of the 41-odd mile trail.

Unlike the other portion we did, this part of the trail had numerous short rollers. I seemed to hit about 400 watts on every single one. Not an easy effort, for sure. By the time we turned around I could feel the effort in my flanks.

I mentioned this to DM - at home I rarely ride in the same position for, say, an hour, so I keep recruiting new muscles. When I climb I stand, when I descend I'm off the saddle (or tucked), and I regularly stand when accelerating out of corners and bends and such.

Here, not so much. Okay, fine, the trail moves around a bit, but in general you rarely need to move your tush off the saddle. This means a lot of riding in the same position which means a lot of riding using the exact same muscles.

I thought riding on the trainer was muscularly monotonous - flat lands are even more so. On the trainer I tend to move around a bit more, I don't know why. Flat lands, not so much.

And, with flat terrain comes something else - wind.

The wind acted as a steady resistance unit. With a reasonably strong west wind on a north-south route, we fought the wind there and back. You know how everyone complains about having a headwind all the time? It's because you rarely have an actual straight on headwind - instead, normally the wind hits you at an angle. When you turn around, it hits you from another angle, and it could be almost as unfriendly as the first one.

Case in point? Monday's ride.

I could only think of the epic Classics while we rode leaning slightly westward, the echelons, the scrabble to get to the front group. In particular I thought of Gent-Wevelgem of this year, when Cervelo blew apart the field in the first hour of racing in a strong crosswind.

The combination of a team drilling it at the front, the strong crosswind, and a couple inattentive favorites meant that the race exploded in a totally unpredictable way. The lead group, lacking the big star Tom Boonen, pushed hard to hold their advantage, and only towards the end it seemed possible for the front group to finish first.

Anyway, crosswinds are the cat's whiskers of bike racing. And I felt like a flahute, kinda sorta, battling it out with my invisible foe.

I wanted to do an effort at some point, some jump, some sprint, some something big, but by the time I felt warmed up I was also feeling a bit run down. The chilly wind really bit through my kit - 62 degrees or so, breezy, sun setting, and me in shorts like a dummy - and my legs started getting a bit stiff.

I suppose in a race I'd have hoarded my strength and done something, but not on a simple training ride.

I laughed to myself and explained to DM that this inevitably happens on long winter-time rides when I'm thinking of next season. I keep thinking I'm going slow, I'm too weak, stuff like that.

My teammate John told me something like this happened to him one winter. He rode the winter, long rides, nice base type miles, but couldn't go very fast. Big ring, big cogs, but nothing crazy fast.

Then he went to the first training race of the year. He stood up and launched an attack at the start/finish on a one mile circuit, sprinting away from the field.

Half a lap later he sat down.

A soon-to-be-pro joined him, and together they quickly put a half lap on the field. Ultimately John flatted with half a lap to go, but he had made his point.

Those long winter rides really do something for the legs.

So, on the years where I could get out, I'd try and do some of the same kind of steady rides in the winter. I poke along, look at the speed (or heart rate or power, depending on how recently said winter ride took place), and think, "Oh, man, I am just crawling."

Then, when I get to my first race, I find myself "crawling" at the same heart rate or power or whatever, but at the front of the field, looking around at all the suffering faces.

At least that's the hope.

I told DM that each year I think there's just no way it'll be like that this year, that this time I'll get to my first race and suffer and scramble for wheels and be at the back of the field. Each year I think of reasons why this year would be different.

In my case I'm looking at all sorts of stuff that should make me go really fast right now.

First, I'm lighter than normal. This should make going up little rollers in Florida a breeze.

Second, even though I'm lighter than normal, I've been eating a bit more than normal (and carbs and such at that). This means I should have enough fuel not to bonk or feel weak.

Third, I keep telling myself I'm only slightly off of my relative peak fitness of July/August. This means I ought to have some decent power in my legs.

Of course, the data seems to argue otherwise. I'm struggling at 400 watts, I can't break 1200 watts on a really hard sprint (and that's peak power, not 5 second power), and I kept watching DM ride away from me on the small rollers and such.

So I kept scrambling for DM's wheel, kept the pressure up on the little rollers, and thought about how I'm just crawling right now.

I reminded myself that it's not even January, that I have a week and change in San Diego coming up at the end of January, that I have another week I've committed to spend training at the end of February. That these miles and hours would go a long way to jump-starting my season.

I thought of my diet, how I'll be able to better control what I ate when I'm back at home. No more 1100 calorie breakfasts or 2000 calorie dinners, no more 40-60 grams of fat at one meal instead of less than that for the whole day. That maybe, just maybe, my home food diet would mean my weight would drop into the 150s.

And I kept churning the pedals on the Suncoast Trail, hoping that my legs would magically get good for the first race of the year.

Training - Florida Training Camp Day 5

I woke up refreshed with a touch of fatigue lingering in the corners of my mind. No soreness, no saddle issues, nothing.

There's something good about having nothing wrong.

I decided that today the bike would get its drivetrain cleaning. I performed this task in overboots, using an ancient spray head that was either full on or full off. I kept an eye out for the resident armadillo but I guess he figured he didn't want to be near this green and black thing in jeans with sparkly spokes and clicking arms spraying water everywhere.

Afterwards the drivetrain looked refreshingly clean. Doing this regularly makes each cleaning very rewarding, and I haven't ridden too much outside since I last cleaned the bike. Therefore I reaped the rewards and found no super-ground-in grunge and dirt and stuff.

Then I did the things that one does for Pap, a really cool grandfather-in-law. I played IT tech on his computer (and flew the Flight Simulator since he really wanted me to fly it), then hers (after his astonishment at the performance increase on his own machine), fixed a broken sofa bed (collapsed, glue, screws, drills, two trips to the hardware store), went shopping for some cold medicine for Nana, vacuumed a bit of the Great Room, and one or two other things.

After a brief rest (I fell asleep on the couch), I motivated and got out on the bike. Despite the temperatures in the mid 50s, I wanted to experiment with my kit and set off in just shorts on my legs.

I also wore two LS jerseys, one SS jersey, a wind vest, booties, a reasonably warm head cover, and summer long-finger gloves. I wanted to try to keep my extremities warm, and I wanted to see what would happen with my bare legs.

I rolled along an interesting backroad named, interestingly enough, Trouble Creek Road. It turns left and right, 90 degrees at a time, all over the place. The turns were quite sharp, keeping me on my toes.

Against some old advice from my friend Gene, I've been trying to stick to my diet while training some volume. I paid the price as I felt like I was bonking just 30 minutes into the ride. I started feeling weak, a little dizzy, and a bit chilly. My legs felt like I'd just ridden 3 hours, loading up as soon as I made any kind of 100+ watt effort.

I pedaled along in the small ring, waiting for my body to figure out what it wanted to do. I hoped it wasn't going to escalate to a full-on bonk. My "less is more" kit selection would work against me with the cool temperatures and an under-fueled body.

Finally, magically, my body responded, warming up, and my legs started feeling a bit better.

I tried to get my legs going again, doing a little effort, but I struggled to maintain even 330 watts. My legs felt pretty dead. I eased, absorbing all this information that seemed so familiar yet so foreign. It all seemed familiar, but far enough away that I only felt deja vu, not "Oh, yeah, I know this sensation."

Then a van drove by, going just over the 30 mph speed limit. Not just a regular van, a conversion van, with all the fairings and such, letting not a molecule of air past the bottom of the van.

Perfect motorpace vehicle.

I couldn't resist and launched an almost aborted sprint. A mis-shift under pressure almost made me stop, but some fiddling and I launched myself again.

I chased the van for a short straight, powered through a turn, did my best Philipe Gilbert imitation out of it, and...

My legs faded.

Upon review I saw I did about 1000 watts for 10 seconds, peaking a little higher at 1200 watts. I maintained just under 900 watts for 20 seconds, fading to 680 watts for 30 seconds.

I only hit 36 mph, quite disappointing, but I rationalized with myself that it was a headwind, I felt bonky, my legs empty, and I just wasn't good today. Plus my mis-shift cost me a few seconds.

Whatever, it wasn't great.

To avenge my poor performance I sprinted past an ice cream truck just before I got home.

(Ice cream truck?! In December?! Must be Florida.)

I started to peel off my outer layers, like my helmet, gloves, and such, when Aunt Linda came running out.

"We want to take pictures of you on your bike!"

Oh, wait. That didn't happen. What really happened was the following:

"You really should do some sprint intervals on the street. You can do with them Haley."

Haley, just so you know, is a seven year old girl.

With a scooter thing.

We proceeded to do enough sprints that the ice cream truck drove by twice (we never bought any). Haley's brother Elijah ran along for fun on a few sprints.

(Apologies in advance for the blurry pictures, but note the very cool looking kit!)

Note Haley's pre-scooter throw posture. And don't let the gleaming drivetrain blind you!

Three wide with Elijah in the middle. Note excellent form displayed by each of the three sprinters.

Haley scooting furiously. I jumped too late.

Alas, I couldn't win a single sprint.

I'll let the fire of disappointment fuel me through the rest of the training camp. Or something like that.

Up on deck for tomorrow? A long ride starting early afternoon.

Training - Florida Day 4

Today I went out with a group here north of Tampa, the Gear Link Racing Team. I met one of the guys virtually at BikeForums, Bob. We duel a bit with long, hopefully informative posts. Okay, his posts are definitely informative, usually more succinct.

Mine get, well, they end up a bit long. Go figure.

Anyway, when he found out that I'd be down in the area, he invited me on a group ride they'd planned for Saturday after Christmas. He figured on 20 or 30 riders showing up. They'd ride 2x2 (double file) out to some bridge, do intervals on the bridge, and return back.

With the start point about 12 miles away from my home base, he said he'd ride back with me. This way the missus just had to get me to the start.

A nice sign - across the street from the start point: a Ferrari dealership.

Cool beans.

I signed a release with a guy named Ray Booth ("How'd you know my name?" "Well, your bike says 'Ray Booth's Road Bike'"). Bob showed up, I shook a few hands, and we prepared to leave.

Ray made a few announcements, chided those talking while he was announcing, and then proclaimed that we had a guest for the day.

Me.

I raised my hands when he called my name. One of the guys I just met laughed and playingly complained.

"Hey, how come I don't get a call out? I do this ride all the time."

With that we set off.

I'm not sure exactly where we went, but we did stop for someone's pedal "issues" before we left the lot. Things went smoothly after that.

I learned that a few of the guys were originally from Connecticut - Westport, Danbury, Ridgefield, Moosup, all somewhat familiar hunting grounds for me (except the latter). This happens whenever I go to a warm-winter clime - I inevitably meet folks who moved "from the cold" to wherever I happened to be at the time.

We passed by some prep school kids in their uniforms, seniors by the look of them. Then we passed by some more of them. I figured there was a big school around here, with all these kids running around. I queried one of the riders on the prolific prep school uniforms.

"Scientologists."

Oh.

Apparently we were in Scientology central, Clearwater, FL.

We hit a bridge, which, on later review, took about a minute to climb, seated. I focused on staying low, recruiting the glutes, relaxing the upper body. I tried to hold about 350 watts, struggling consistently each time.

We broke up into small groups, many riders doing solo efforts at their own pace. We turned around shortly after the bridge descent, either in a parking lot or by riding around a condo complex, and returned immediately to do another effort.

At some point one of the riders attempted to turn around without checking his six, and a car bounced him gently. He went down, traffic stopped, and in minutes we had a fire truck and a bunch of police cars on the scene.

We waited a bit (I did 4 more efforts), but it looked like it would be more than a little time, so ultimately the group gathered and left. We rolled back towards the start point, the group a bit antsy. I made some moderate efforts to close some gaps, and then, just when I started feeling a bit woozy, Bob motioned for me to take a turn, to head back to my home base. Another rider joined us for the slow roll back.

After gallantly trying to ride next to Bob for a while, I eased and sat in. Then, after I took a moderately short pull, I turned to Bob and confessed.

"I'm cooked."

Bob brought the pace down, telling the other guy Jeff to ease up too. After that I just sat on and we rolled back.

End result?

A little over 3 hours. Almost 60 miles. 12 intervals.

I wore booties, knickers, 2 LS jerseys, 1 SS jersey, vest. Felt fine, a little warm, but comfortable.

Notes to self:
- Tighten Ergo levers. One of my efforts moved a lever.
- Shoulder hurt when climbing out of saddle, therefore resume shoulder therapy when I get home.
- Overdressing is okay.

I think tomorrow I'll skip the 3000 feet of climbing, 7:30 AM ride. I'll wait for later in the day. Degrease the poor bike's drivetrain. Tighten up the levers.

And go for a nice mid-day ride.

Training - Florida Team Camp, Day 2

Yes, Southwest got the bike to me last night. Late, like 9:30 PM late, but, hey, it got here. Apparently there were a lot of problems in Baltimore, where we had a plane transfer.

Note to self: no more flights through Baltimore.

Second note to self: try to schedule more than 25 minutes for a transfer, so that if the plane is 10 minutes late, you still get to sit in some semblance of a good seat.

This morning we all went for a reasonably healthy breakfast at Cracker Barrel (my breakfast anyway, not theirs), then headed home to recover, prepare for "my" shopping trip (food and Simple Green), and put my bike together.

The missus asked if I wanted to stay at home and do the bike, so I did. The bike went together well, but the embarrassingly dirty drivetrain really stuck out. The missus went out on a mission to get some Simple Green but couldn't find any. I'll have to venture out and see if I can't find some, or some citrus degreaser.

Paps, the missus's grandpa, sat and watched me while I worked on the bike.

I spent much of the time explaining to Paps all about the quick release levers, the carbon fiber wheels and such, and the power meter cranks. I also explained that I'm just a hack, as impressive as the bike may seem, and that in the scheme of things the bike was really nice but not insanely so.

He understood - he grabbed some of his golf clubs, explaining to me that he built them up using heads he'd bought, adding shafts he cut himself. I guess it's like building a bike - you don't "make" the frame, but you build the bike from pre-made parts and pieces.

Usually I can get by without any problems with a dirty drivetrain, but I planned on riding with a fellow BikeForums rider, and he'd be sure to notice the blackened drivetrain. I thought that maybe I could fake it and tell him it's a new waterproof lubricant I'm testing for a Connecticut based company, but he'd probably see through that.

We did a good ride, about 40 miles.

So some of the things that make riding in this part of Florida interesting.

First off, great trails. Good pavement, no root ridges every 2 feet like at home, wide enough to ride double file (but you single up when passing riders going the other way).

Second, the interesting wildlife. I saw two sand cranes (apparently pretty idiotic and common, but new to me). I can call them idiotic because they carefully sauntered right across a busy road, the drivers politely slowing and avoiding them. Even with cars passing a foot or three away, they never flinched.

I also saw a deer. Common in Connecticut, the smaller version here seemed, well, smaller. Much more tame, barely an ear twitch when we rode by.

And I saw a really new to me animal - an armadillo. Actually, I saw armadillos three times, but I suspect two sitings involved one armadillo. All three were diligently rooting around for bugs and such, walking daintily on their spindly legs, carrying their protective shield everywhere. Apparently these guys are pretty unaware too, ignoring everything around them.

(As an addendum, I also saw two lizards sunning themselves outside the house. I wasn't on the bike so I didn't see them on the ride, but I saw them a few times. They're common in California but this was a first East Coast siting for me.)

Pro sitings? None.

Third, the interesting scenery. It's interesting because it's so uniform. I'll have to take a picture, but it looks really fake. Seriously. It looks like someone got a 3-D representation of a Palm Bush (my name for a palm tree on the ground) and did a bazillion pastes of a copy around the landscape, creating a sea of palm frond things.

Then they got some real Palm Trees (the tall version) and copy pasted one for every 30 Palm Bushes. Imagine a sea of palm frond things with trees scattered around here and there.

Then they got some Charlie Brown Christmas Tree Pine Trees and copy-pasted those at a ratio of two for every Palm Tree. Now you see pine trees, slightly more often than palm trees.

Install a flat, meandering bike path that rarely changes texture and you're looking at...

A fake bike trail.

It looks just like some of the incredibly fake scenery in some of the bike power trainer software I've seen.

Pretty, though, and a bit mind-boggling in its uniformity.

Add to it the steady breeze and you have a mutated version of Belgium. Steady winds, flat winding roads... but with Palm Bushes and Palm Trees and smooth pavement instead of electric cow fences, ditches, and cobblestones.

I remembered how hard I worked to deal with wind in Belgium, and how strong I felt afterward.

I hope that my work in the next week or so will help me gain some of that strength once again.

Florida: Day Five (final)

Today is sort of like the Paris stage of the Tour. Easy riding, some crumbs for those who weren't going for points (Gene slowed to let me "take" a sprint), and talking about the riding over the past week. We went out easy, less than two hours, to let the legs do some light work.

Yesterday I was feeling pretty bad, but I seem to have recovered for today. I could actually pull a bit and felt pretty frisky at the end of the ride. I can tell I'm frisky when I chase down cars and sit right off their bumper. The sun was making its presence known so that was good too.

I'm stuck now with a bunch of SlimFast, RockStar, instant oatmeal, and some misc things. I'll pack all that stuff up and fly it back home.

I'm considering the training trip a success. About 17 hours of riding in 6 days, including the two flying days. The meat of the trip were the 4 middle days where we did over 14 hours. A little lower than one year where we did about 4 hours a day but the secondary goals were well met. No sore tendons, no severe muscle soreness, no saddle issues, and, for me, a LOT more pulling at the front. Instead of constantly sitting at the back, I was able to do a lot more work. I felt good enough today that I could probably go out for 3 or 4 hours without too much trouble.

Now to pack up the bike and my gear (the room is a wreck). I have the 2006 Tour in the background and it keeps reminding me how terrible Rasmussen descends. Someone should buy him some driving lessons.

Then it's off to the airport and a short flight up to the cold Northeast. I checked the weather - at home it's supposed to be a high of 28 and a low of 16 tomorrow. Nothing like a 50 degree drop in temperatures to shock the system.

Florida: Day Four

Today we did about 65 miles in about 3:45. We were a *lot* slower than yesterday, my heartrate averaged 6 bpm lower, and I was totally dead after 3 hours. On the plus side it was 81 degrees, sunny, and a great day to ride.

We left from Mandy's house (a recent acquisition). Clifford (a black dog, medium size) was excited to see two new people - but a Doberman going by on a leash made us look pretty boring. Mandy yelled out to her dog, "Clifford, come here." Both dogs turned to run to her. The guy holding the Doberman said something like, "That's funny, his name is Clifford too!"

I was pretty out of it this morning and forgot things like filling my bottles, checking tire pressure, and a short sleeve jersey. I filled my bottles from Mandy's sink, used the pump I forgot in the car yesterday to check my tires, and borrowed a Naples Cyclery jersey from Gary (very cool as it has a mini zippered pocket for keys and phones). I also trued my rear wheel - I have to practice building wheels as my wheel was not happy.

Eventually we took off. Gary asked how I liked the jersey - it had vent type holes in the sides for extra ventilation. Problem is that the jersey was a bit tight on my 175 lbs frame (versus his 158-ish lbs, 6" taller frame) and the vent holes were stuck to my skin.

"Gary, the vent holes have to be loose, otherwise air doesn't go through them. I'm too fat for the air to go through."
"Don't worry, jus' keep ridin' and it'll loosen up."
"Ridin'?"
"You know, this week, next week..."
"I think it'll take me like 5 or 10 thousand miles."

I have the opposite body image problem that anorexics have. They think they're too fat. I have a different problem. I figure that, "Heck, I think I'm in pretty good shape." Then I see a picture of myself and go, "Whoa, I'm fat." I don't know which one is worse.

Anyway, Gary took all but one county line sprint. He and Gene were just a bit ahead of Mandy and myself when I realized there was one of those county-line-like signs up ahead.

"Mandy, is that the county sign?"
"Yep."
Pow pow pow I shifted up and took off.

I heard Gary a second later.

"Oh, man."

It's the little triumphs that count.

An hour later I was groveling at 16 mph. On a flat road. With no significant wind.

We're planning on doing a 2 hour ride tomorrow. Then we'll pack, drive to Orlando, and fly back home.

I'll be with my fiancee at about 9 or 9:30. Today I realized that I missed her quite a bit. I remember the moment - I was behind Mandy, staring at her Ksyrium silver spokes (staggered left-right), the sun was shining, and I was tired enough that my tunnel vision reduced what I could see to a 4x4 foot patch of pavement streaming under Mandy's Scott CR1 chainstays.

I told Gary that I should bring my fiancee with me and ship the tandem out here. We'd get a tandem disk wheel and try and break his legs. I figure it'd take about 2 hours at 35 mph. Lol. So my finacee and I would have to do some 40 mph pursuit type efforts in training so 35 mph feels reasonable.

Gary admitted that yes, 2 hours at 35 would probably break him, especially if we bumped the pace up to over 40 every now and then.

Hm.

I wonder what she thinks of that.

Florida: Day Three

Today we finally went out for breakfast before the ride. We met up at a local diner type place and had a normal breakfast. With weather expected to be in the 80's with mainly sunny skies, it looked to be a good day to do a long ride - as well marked century route.

Within 90 minutes of our start though it all changed. First, Mandy flatted. Gary changed it faster than I thought possible. Then the clouds started getting dark. It misted at first then got wetter and wetter. Eventually we ended up soaked. The other three got a paper and plastic bags to put some layers on. The Boy Scout I am (not really) I had some cool weather gear. Wearing my trusty vest and arm warmers on top of an SS jersey and shorts, I felt reasonably good. Incidentally it was the first time I ever rode in arm warmers in my life - a couple decades after starting cycling seriously!

Although I don't enjoy starting in wet weather, if it does get wet and it's not too cold, I seem to feel a lot better relatively speaking. Accordingly I managed to pull a lot more than before. I said to Gary that either he must have been really sick or I was doing a bit better since we ended up sitting at the front together a lot.

After 3 hours of misty rain it finally stopped. And my legs started to fatigue a bit. Our chatty group ended up pretty silent by the time we hit about 80-odd miles. I knew I was riding on borrowed time and rode as steadily as possible to get back to the car as soon as I could. Alas, at about 98 miles my legs suddenly faded - literally about a half mile from the car. I didn't know exactly where we were so I sat up - and then saw the cars. I rolled in a bit behind Gary, Mandy, and Gene. Gary had taken all the major "sprints" and pretty much sewed up the unofficial sprinter's competition, even with a bum crankarm that kept working loose.

Afterwards we had a huge dinner at the Gainesville Ale House (a lot of nachos and a 20 ounce Porterhouse steak) and watched Blood Diamonds. The flick was pretty intense and I recommend it for anyone.

My legs seemed a lot better than last year. I hope that this work now pays off and lets me do some work in California next month. For now though, I just need to recover so I can do a good ride tomorrow. We plan on taking it easy and do about four hours.

Now for some sleep.

Florida: Day Two

Today's been pretty good so far. We went out early for about 3 hours - and although I started out wearing a SS jersey, LS jersey, and a vest up top, I finished wearing just the jersey and shorts. And I felt warm. Mid 70's so not bad at all. Just Gene and I as there was a 50 mile mountain bike "ride" which drew in Gary and Mandy. As Gene quoted Gary, "You race it even though it's not a race."

I let Gene take all the "sprints" today, pushing him forward for the first couple.

Afterwards, we went to the Gators Football Championship celebration. As a person who doesn't know about stadium sports, I only started realizing it was a big deal when they were replaying the game over and over again on TV and local stores were selling a commemorative issue of Sports Illustrated celebrating their success. Around campus there were various vendors selling shirts, caps, flags, and all sorts of stadium looking things.

The celebration took place in their school stadium. Now you collegiate football fans probably realize this but this stadium isn't the dinky one that was at my school (UCONN, 16,000 students at the time). This stadium is larger than Giant Stadium - it holds 92,000 people! It's enormous. I'd guess it was just about 2/3 full, so maybe 50,000 - 60,000 people there. A big section was closed off - it's where the 2006 Champions stuff was painted and where the big screen sat, so I guess they didn't want people there. My brush with greatness - they introduced the two coaches we saw yesterday at dinner.

In the middle of the thing I thought of something. I leaned over to Gene.

"Hey, those guys up there on the stage, they're going to be worth millions next year, aren't they?"
"Well, that guy there, yes. Those two there, a little less. But yes, they'll be worth millions."

It's interesting. These guys are technically amateurs. They're basically kids, 21-22 years old (there were two freshmen too, but they'll still be in school next year). Kind of like your average Cat 1 if you're comparing football to cycling. And next year the good football players will sign contracts worth millions of dollars. That kind of thing doesn't happen in cycling. A good Cat 1 might sign a $5,000 or $10,000 contract to turn pro for a domestic team. Only after you've proven yourself as a pro cyclist would you think about $100,000 or more. But the football players, in their first year playing professionally, they'll be paid perhaps the equivalent of a whole pro cycling team's annual budget. Even the lowest paid pro ball players will probably make more in their first year in the NFL than many pro cyclists make in their whole life.

It's pretty sobering.

It reminds me that I'm happy where I am as a middling Cat 3, able to enjoy racing without the pressure of performance.

So, now we'll rest up, hopefully meet Gary, Mandy, and a couple friends for dinner or a movie, and prep for tomorrow. If today was a "non-stage" in our Tour of Gainesville, tomorrow would be the traditional Bordeaux stage - the longest day of the Tour. We'll be joined by former 80's pro Andy something or another and plan on going for 5 hours. Based on the forecast (80's) and our current soreness levels (light) it should be quite feasible.

The fight for the sprints will start in earnest too.

Florida: Day One

I woke up today to the sound of knocking on the door. I got up and looked at the clock - 7:56. What the heck happened to my 6:00 alarm?

Anyway, I was ready to go at about 8:10 and we set off. Gary, Mandy, Gene, and myself rolled for about 3 1/2 hours. Although it ended up in the mid 70's, I wore a SS jersey, LS jersey, vest, knickers, and shorts. I wanted to stay hot and try and get good for the rest of the trip. It worked as I drank four bottles of water over the ride. No flats so that was nice.

Gary rode on a single speed (not fixed) - 42x17. Last year, we started sprinting for town and county line signs - a point for a town sign, two for a county. As we approached the first one (I was riding with my head down so didn't know it was there), Mandy said there was a sign, so I told her to go for it. Gary jumped as soon as he heard her go though and it was no contest. He ended up taking all the sprints.

Gary kept looking at me and cracking up. I may not be GQ material but I don't look that funny. I asked him what was up - he told me I looked like I was really suffering. Which was true. The thing was we were going about 17 mph. On relatively flat roads, with basically no wind. So he was cracking up.

We would switch riding partners every now and then. I noticed that both Gene and I would let the other two keep talking on the hills. It's a good rule of thumb - be a great listener on the hills.

We rolled around the U of Florida campus towards the end of the ride and met some of Mandy's former co-workers. There were a lot of students walking around - I realized I didn't remember what day it was. Friday, in case you were wondering.

Tomorrow we're doing another early ride and then going to the Gator Football pep rally. Ten years ago, there were 60,000 people at the pep rally after they won their last National Championships. The last pep rally I went to had about 1200 people - one of the ones at my high school.

Luckily, I remembered to pack my Gators shirt.

Florida: Prologue

I call it the Prologue because nothing too significant happens today. For the last two years, we've rolled in at about 4 or 5 PM, assembled our bikes, rolled around the parking lot, ate, and called it a day.

Today was a little different. We took a much earlier flight and actually got a ride in. The early flight involved some unpleasantries like me getting up at 5:15 AM or so. I wasn't feeling too good but the prospect of some warm weather motivated me a bit. On the flip side, the bed with the fiancee and two kitties on it was pretty tempting too. Outside, the luscious grass from Saturday was replaced by reality - brittle, frozen, dying ground. The winter freeze just started to set in, a couple months late, and it was really cold.

My semi-fever didn't help any but I kept my heavy winter jacket and gloves on until we got to the airport, where a switch to the team jacket sufficed till we got into the heated airport.

The flight was uneventful - Air Tran. Got nailed $65 for the bike, which is a little more than the $50 JetBlue gets. Since my name is on the TSA list, I (and my training partner Gene) had to wait around for someone to decide I can fly. I hope that this guy with my name is one BAMF for all the time I have to wait every time I fly. I sat behind a really tall girl - her hips were at or above the seat tops when she stood up - probably 6'2"+. And with less room than Jet Blue, I don't know how she coped. She looked appropriately miserable when she got off the plane.

Someone at the airport looked vaguely familiar. After some thought, I decided she looked just like a girl at the bookshop yesterday. And later, after the flight, I realized this was the case.

I got to see the office from the plane, the various curves and hills that mark my daily commute, and I thought of my colleague Kelly sitting at the office. I thought about telling him to wave out the window but: A) He'd have to do it from one of the Partner's offices and B) we were still gaining altitude and using the phone was a no-no. I didn't want to end up in the news like the woman who lit matches on a flight so I decided to pass on calling the office.

Once on the ground, we got our car and got to Gainesville, home of some football champions. There were special Sports Illustrated magazines declaring this in the supermarket. Apparently it's been 10 years since they won before, and they were not expected to win. There is some celebration going on in a couple days and if I can walk, I'll be there.

I realized that I forgot one thing - my WATERBOTTLES. I say it like that because I have gobs and gobs of waterbottles in the house. My fiancee asks, with good reason, why we need so many. We don't - it's just that this one was from this trip, that from that race, so on and so forth. Now I'm a proud owner of a new Bikes Not Bombs bottle and a Cannondale one.

Florida is a lot warmer than a 20-something degree Connecticut. We rode in shorts and short sleeve jersey. I was tempted to put on my vest but declined as I was actually warm.

I also had my first official flat. On the brand new rear tire that I mounted yesterday. Arg. Took about 5 minutes to fix as I took my time. At least it was glass, not a huge cut or something. I'll have to stop riding so far over on the shoulder.

We got things I needed like a wireless card for the laptop (I didn't know they came in USB format, but that's what I got and that's what I'm using), food (salad, breakfast things, Slim Fast, coffee & related stuff, Rock Star, bananas), and dinner.

We have an early riding date tomorrow with Gary and Mandy and we're planning on doing 3 or 4 hours.

So, in preparation, I first installed the network card. That worked because I'm typing here. Now I have to true my wheels, put a patch under the little cut in my one day old Michelin Pro Lights "Service de Course" tire, and put my clothes away (bottle of mouthwash in my bag blew up when I put my bag on the bed - so my bed won't have gingivitis and any CSI type folks will wonder what the heck I did in bed - but in the meantime all my gear is laid out on the bed).

Hopefully things go well.

Florida trip coming up

So my friend at work asked me if I'm excited about the upcoming FL trip. Told him that was an affirmative. I even made a list of electronics I want to bring for apres ride entertainment:
- laptop (and power cord)
- network cable for same
- Playstation 2
- TOCA 2 driving game for PS2 since I can't play it well with my Logitech steering wheel (GT4 is reserved for steering wheel use).
- Portable DVD player I won at my fiancee's company party
- TV adapter thing I got at Radio Shack last time I went to Florida
- My Treo (for listening to music while I ride)
- Sprint phone (I hate sprint but haven't changed yet)
- Chargers for the phones
I should probably bring a surge protector too.

I thought about buying one of those aluminum briefcases for my electronic stuff, you know the ones. People transporting huge amounts of money carry them in the movies, with the briefcases handcuffed to their wrist.

But then I realized it wasn't a good idea. A post-Florida trip might go along the following lines:
"So, how was Florida?"
"Well, I got mistaken for a Mafia mule and someone cut off my hand to get my briefcase)."
"So it wasn't good then?"

On an aside - they're having some gas problems in Manhattan. Apparently you can smell gas. It seems that they're starting to evacuate buildings like the Empire State Building and Rockefeller Center, shut down the PATH (train from NJ to NYC), and basically stopped all productivity in the financial center of the world. Sort of.

You know, you can't smell natural gas. It's the additive you can smell. So someone might have planted a half dozen tanks of the smelly stuff and just released it into the air. No danger but everyone's been conditioned to report the smell.

Anyway, tonight I need to start prepping my bikes and gear for Florida. Clean up the Florida bike (carbon Giant) and prep for packing. Get the home bike (aluminum Giant) set up on the trainer. Find my fricken cassette tool and swap the cassette onto my FIR rear wheel.

Oh, and video tape me installing a tire so I can post how to do it. It's amazing how many people don't know how to mount a tire onto a rim. That's for a different post.

Hope you're not in NYC.