California - Day 8 - TsunamiTwo

I just like this picture so I put it here.

I finally got out on the bike. Finally.

Now I can't blame anyone but myself for a lot of it - I get distracted easily, so when I, for example, go inside to get a part for the bike, I may detour to the the coffee machine, grab a cup, nuke it (I know, it's terrible), then while it's nuking go and check email or something.

15 minutes later I realize, "Oh, hey, I came in to get the cap for the fork. Let me get that and get back out there!"

Anyway, I left just the chain, tape, the SRM wire, and minor adjustments for this morning. I finished the rest of the bike the previous night, at least in my mind.

It took me a while to get going (see "easily distracted" above), and when I finally did I did everything in the wrong order. I put the chain on, taped the bars, taped the Cane Creek Speed Bars, and then taped the SRM wire onto the bike.

My trusty SRM wire.
I've taped the two separate wires together to form one stronger cord.
My apologies for a poor picture.

The chain is, for now, a Dura Ace chain. Nice, shiny, and not packed in really sticky greasy stuff. I had to fight decades of habit and pushed out the pin so that I had two identical ends, the inner links, on each end of the chain.

For me that's usually disaster, but this time I did it on purpose - I finally bought some reusable links, in my case the KMC MissingLink (for Shimano 10s chains).

Chain box (I didn't take a picture of it when it had a chain in it), MissingLinks, and a sticker spot which shows that I used one.

It went together pretty easily and my mind decided that these things weren't all that bad.

I taped the bars after redoing some cable housing routing. It's different rerouting housing when it all runs in the frame, so the 10 second rerouting job ended up taking a lot longer. I'm still debating how I'll handle the housing in front of the head tube, but for now I'll let it be.

I did realize that my frame is really, really small, and, frankly, the housing affects a minute amount of area.

In other words it really doesn't matter.

I installed the SRM wiring harness and remembered a really nice thing about black frames - electrical tape disappears on it. I lay long strips of tape to hold the harness to the frame. Impossible to do discretely on a custom candy orange frame but easy on a black frame.

With the bike together, I took it for a short spin. I had to drop the post but since it was already bottomed out, I had to cut it.

I went out again with the post a lot lower, another 100 yard test ride. Everything seemed okay, I had to tighten some cables and fine tune the rear derailleur's cable tension, but I felt almost ready to ride.

I got my frame pump, tried to put it on the fork (where it's cool looking and usually out of the way). The newly taped Cane Creek Bars were just a bit wider, and that and slightly different cable routing combined to make it impossible for the pump to sit in my favorite spot.

I looked at the top tube.

No, I shouldn't. I didn't want to.

Oh, what the heck.

I popped it under the top tube and it fit perfectly.

So be it.

I also put two cages on the frame. I don't know why I didn't get two side loading cages because it works pretty well, but the pump under the top tube makes it a bit tricky getting one bottle out (the top load cage one naturally).

Finally I got the saddle bag on, with its various supplies. One thing I couldn't find was my multi tool, with all the different allen wrench sizes on it. I set off with a couple 5 mm, one 6mm, and not much else.

I rode, oh, about half a mile, and realized that my saddle height was all wrong. I rode a bit more and decided the delta was great enough to justify turning around.

I returned to home base, raised the saddle a lot (arbitrarily because, to be completely honest, I forgot if I have my saddle at 67 cm or 67.5 cm BB to top of saddle) and got back on the bike.

Nice!

I went out to the ocean, headed north into Carlsbad, looking for the Starbucks where a group ride meets on Wednesdays. As in tomorrow Wednesday.

It took me 45 minutes to get there without hurrying.

The bike seemed fine with a few teething pains.

Cables continued to stretch (and housing settle), making the shifting just a bit loose, but still within usable range.

The headset was a bit tight, and combined with gusty crosswinds and an aero front wheel, I rode a drunken line much of the time.

But what about the good stuff?

Well now.

The rear wheel sits noticeably closer in under my saddle. When I stand it feels like I'm right on top of the rear wheel. For the longest time I've stood and adjusted my weight distribution to force some weight on the rear wheel. Although it works and became automatic, it robs me of a little bit of... something.

It's like trying to run really fast on a balance bar instead of the track. There's an element of "I can't run as fast on a 2x4 as I can on a running track".

Likewise, my automatic rearward weight emphasis took some juice out of my jump.

Now I have to learn how to stand without adjusting my weight distribution, to use all of my jump to jump.

Handling-wise it's great. The bike wants to go where I point it. I see skateboarders around here all the time (Tony Hawk lives around here) and I realized the short chainstays make my bike feel like a skateboard doing a wheelie. On such a skateboard you are anchored on the rear wheel and can turn anywhere you want.

On my bike I'm anchored on the rear wheel and can do whatever I want with the front end.

The front end isn't special in any way. That's a good thing, by the way. I don't want a special front end - I just one that's stable at speeds over 50 mph and lets me slam the bike into turns. Stable yet responsive.

The 3T fork works fine, although I haven't done a 50+ mph descent to test rigidity. It feels nice and rigid when I torque the bike out of the saddle or carve S-curves on some empty stretches of road.

I hadn't taped my Cane Creek Speed Bars before - I wish I did. They feel so much better now. Before, on the bare bars, my hands would slip on them a bit, the coarse anodized finish not doing much for grip. With the tape, the increased bar diameter (they're already undersized at about 22 mm diameter) and better grip makes for a very secure feeling position.

I didn't use them that much though. I haven't been feeling 100% anyway so I didn't push too hard. I did a jump up the hill just before home base but I shook my head at myself and sat up.

Overall I give the bike a thumbs up. With the Jet 6 front and Jet 9 rear wheels, Cane Creek bars, the bike weighs 19 pounds even.

First weigh-in. 19 pounds.
Note no cages, taped Cane Creek bars. I had to cut the post a bit more.
Also note boxes of Girl Scout cookies. I have a source if you have a hankering.

It should lose almost a pound with the Bastognes, a bit more with the tubulars. I regret not bringing the heat treated 3T bars, as they'll take another 100g or so off the bike, and make the front end feel even lighter.

Kitted out for a training ride it weighs a bit more. Bag, two tubes, a little chain tool, extra dropout, two valve extenders, two full bottles, a pump...

24 pounds. Yikes!
It's fully loaded though.

Well 23.94 as the scale says.

That's a bit heavier than I'd like.

I'll redo the loadout to reduce weight a bit for tomorrow. I'll swap out the front wheel for the Bastogne. Double check all the nuts and bolts. Slip in a 4mm Allen wrench in there somewhere.

And we'll see how the ride goes.

Review - Prelim Cannondale SystemSix, Fizik seat

I rode four hours this weekend. Okay, so it was four hours over two days. Well, about 15 minutes short of that. But it was still a significant amount of riding. I did sort of the same loop - headed up north, went up this particularly daunting climb ("Mountain Road"), then headed back down to the apartment. Saturday I headed immediately back at the end of the intimidatingly named road; today I wandered a bit before heading south.

In my wandering (I went about 1/2 mile the other way) I actually found myself on the Barkhamsted Reservoir Road Race course - recently reincarnated as the Tokeneke Road Race. It's a hilly course, not one for me. The last time I raced it I almost got lapped by the break - and that's on a 20-odd mile lap! The race was the site for my favorite wheel change ever, and I try to help out the new promoters when I can.

Anyway, my meandering brought me to a familiar looking intersection (although I'd last raced it about 15 years ago) and after pedaling a bit, I passed the big field where the racers parked. Nowadays there's a paved area as the new promoters moved the start/finish to line up with a building instead of a field.

Progress.

What's been nice is that although my rides left me a bit tired ("zombie-like" might be appropriate), I felt completely recovered the next day. Blame the HGH I just started on, or... oh, wait, I forgot, I don't take that stuff. Whatever the reason, I've been recovering nicely. Granted, I'm not going really hard - over the two days I struggled to maintain over 200 watts even on the flats.

There are some familiar sensations, those "getting back into the groove" things. A stiff neck that's gradually getting a little less "cricked", an equally stiff back that's slowly stretching out (now I can ride the drops somewhat comfortably), and legs which seem to have remembered how to pedal.

I've actually put about 8 hours total on my new bike - the Cannondale SystemSix Liquigas Team Replica thing I got a short time ago. I installed a different bar/stem combo, wrapped it with tape, and stuck my blue FiR Zenith slash Campy Centaur wheels on there. I didn't bother moving the magnet to the sensor side on the front wheel until Saturday so I didn't know my speed till then. And it seems that the heartrate strap went AWOL so I haven't gotten a beat off of the SRM.

So how's the bike so far?

First off, I should point out that I did two rides on the trainer, sort of the "shake down cruises" to get any settling components settled. The cranks (Cannondale Hollowgram cranks using the now-public BB30 standard) settled a lot - I was glad I could sit on the trainer and stare at the chainrings while I pedalled.

I re-routed the derailleur cables, letting the front derailleur cable enter the right cable housing stop, the rear cable go to the left. Then I criss-crossed them under the downtube to line them up with the correct derailleur. This makes for a more graceful housing arc and a less stressed set of derailleur cable housing. I've done this since the 90s sometime and it works well.

I set off on my first "outside" ride, a double of the familiar one-hour flat loop, always in cell phone range, no super tricky descents, and basically all flat roads, a rarity in this region.

I noticed the light feeling front end immediately when I first starting assembling the bike, but I thought it might be me being excited about the bike. However, when I traveled around with the fork (to get it cut down), I realized how insanely light the fork felt. Apparently this isn't an unusually light fork - so I can't imagine anything lighter. So with this psychological factor in mind, I tried to make myself forget the light front end.

I couldn't.

50 meters from the driveway I have our now-familiar traffic light. I rocketed away from said traffic light, shifting up, rocking the bike. It felt immensely more responsive and I quickly over-accelerated past 30 mph. I promptly exploded and sat down to spin the pedals a bit. The frame felt wonderfully responsive. No perceived BB flex, no crank mushiness, and the front end damped vibrations nicely.

On the other hand, I had no idea if the "aero" seatstays were doing anything aero, and the extremely wide top tube let my inner quads rub if I felt like it. I love the big, chunky head tube with the relatively dinky stem sticking out from it. I remember this image from the Road Bike Action which "reviewed" HealthNet's SystemSix bikes - I thought the bike looked massively cool, rock solid, fast, and very "pro".

Well, except for the STI levers. But I could live with that.

When I stood to ride up about the longest incline on the loop, I initially over-threw the bike side to side, it felt so light. I had to adjust - sort of the same way I adjust when I slap on the Reynolds DV46s, except today I still had the stand by FiR Zeniths with their 500 gram (facetiously) wire bead Schwable Blizzard tires. I have no idea what a Blizzard tire does but I can imagine one thing you don't want it to do - have a flat during a Blizzard. So far, the tires have been solidly reliable, with the emphasis on "solid".

Other than the cranks and the frame/fork, the bike had only one other "different" component from my Primary Giant - the Fizik (I'm not even trying all their accents and stuff) Arione seat. It's a seat I've maligned frequently offline and I even offered it up for sale before I sat on it. But a trusty friend suggested trying it out - he'd heard some rave reviews and as he knows a lot of bike people, if they give rave personal reviews, well, it was worth checking out.

Plus it came in matching colors. I had to try it.

With about 8 hours on the seat, I'll admit it. It's not bad. I don't remember if my tights (Nalini, both windstopper and not) have any unusual padding but I do know that, due to my "trainer" training, I tend not to stand up too much. Plus I'm heavier than I used to be so it's not efficient to stand up. So I've sat on that saddle for about 7.9 hours - and I'm no more uncomfortable than I normally am after a few week layoff. In fact, I felt more comfy than normal. I felt zero discomfort on the day after a 2 hour ride - usually I feel a twinge when I first sit down.

In addition, the seat really does have a long "sitter" area. I can slide pretty far back to power up some of the annoying climbs in the area, but it's not a big deal to move forward something like 5, maybe 8 centimeters to get a bit more on top of the pedals. I really like this feature and it's now become a pre-requisite for any seat I try.

The cranks are the most different aspect of the componentry, but they will have to wait until I get some more data and experience. So far though, the two big changes - the frameset and the saddle - have both worked out well. I just have to see how this translates into sprinting up to some familiar finish lines.

Training - Thoughts on 2007-2008

Sorry for clogging the blog with "For Sale" posts. I just re-installed an application that allows me to reduce picture size (from 1-1.2MB to "tiny") so I can post them directly in my ads instead of linking to posts in the blog. I might have gained a reader or two but I feel like the For Sale posts dilute whatever I wrote before.

Therefore the For Sale things are done.

This past week has been pretty busy with a new project for us, a project that is only remotely bike related. A lot of calls, discussions, and various thoughts and decisions to make. Lots of time and energy and unfortunately so far not much to show for it yet. I hope we make some progress but for now we just take it as it comes.

So I've been distracting myself by thinking about the new bike.

I just, and I mean just, finished putting almost all of it together. I'll ride it on a trainer "as is" then do the final bit, the piece that finishes the bike - wrap the tape. Required tasks to get the bike to this point included cutting the steerer tube (done courtesy of Cycle Center for a nominal fee - but I forgot to order the star nut setting tool so I'll have to do that), swapping out the wheels (the Fulcrum 1 wheelset just looked so cool I didn't want to take them off but they're finally sitting to the side - they're for sale), switching pedals from my primary Giant, and fixing up (cutting down) the cables.

When I first finish up a bike I leave the tape off - somehow it seems that if I wrap the bars, everything is wrong - and if they're not wrapped, things are fine. Superstition may not be scientific but I prefer to wait for a ride to wrap my bars.

A good friend of mine playfully accused me of choosing this bike because it matches my current kit. And although I denied it wholeheartedly, I did admit that if the colors were very different - say, the Giant T-Mobile pink - I'd have probably skipped spending the extra coin for the replica aspect of it.

Whatever, the bike currently matches my kit - being blue, green, and black.

Because it matches my current kit, the bike also matches various other things - my Zenith blue rimmed wheels and, um, well, that's it.

In Florida Mandy pointed out one day, on a miserable rainy ride, that I "matched". My blue tires, blue wheels, blue and green kit (including arm warmers, a wind vest, LS jersey, bib knickers, and a Kelme cap that echoed the colors nicely), all against a grey/black background (the frame, components, and winter stuff like booties and gloves). I'm proud to say that I'll be continuing this obsessive compulsive matching thing.

Although for now I'll be using the Zeniths, I have my view on aero wheels and why one should train on them all the time. I have my eye on some Williams Cycling wheels and if I can sell off some of my other wheelsets, I'll be getting a set of those for my bike. Ultimately they'd be used for everything from easy recovery days to "racing training" rides - group rides which will substitute for races on appropriate training days.

Having such wheels also makes it so much easier to go scampering after various vehicular traffic going about 35-45 mph.

But I digress.

I wouldn't be thinking along these lines if my 2008 season was going to mirror my 2007 - train a bit until the end of February, then ride about 1300 miles from then through the beginning of November.

Such training can't justify new aero wheels for training.

I think a normal Cat 3 would have blown my March-November mileage out of the water in four or five weeks, not the eight or nine months it took me to register those hard earned klicks. For me, 2007 had a lot of major distractions - prep the house for sale (refinish floors, clean out house, do extensive yard prep, unclutter house into a PODS), sell said house, move, prep for a wedding while searching for a house, get married, and go on a honeymoon. This on top of the normal race promotion exhaustion in March and April which overlapped a new tax workload on the then-future-missus.

Lots of stuff in 10 months.

Admittedly the wedding and honeymoon weren't painful in any way - in fact, I'd recommend it for those in long, steady relationships - but from a cycling point of view the two events simply served to prolong the pause before returning to any sort of serious cycling.

We got back, kept looking for houses, and then the weather turned cold.

I managed to get my fun car into shelter for the upcoming winter months this last Saturday, another use of a day that might have been, in a different life, a good day for a group ride.

The aforementioned project took almost five hours out of our last Sunday - another potential group ride out the window. I did see a three rider "pack" twiddle past me on a big climb - does that count as a bit of cathartic training?

In between those two days last weekend, on the drive back from tucking in the fun car for the winter, the missus made a somewhat startling statement.

"I think you should race all the races next year. Get the schedule and sign up for them. And we'll go to the races on those weekends."

I must have been a bit speechless as such carte blanche is rarely granted. I focused on staying on the road.

"Plus, I like watching you race."

I guess that's one of the many reasons why she's the missus.

So it's time to get my act into gear.

Equipment - UPS Rules or How I Got My Bike

UPS is awesome. When I was at the shop we'd joke that the UPS guy was like Santa every day of the year. He always brought us stuff, he was a good guy, friendly, and it always brought smiles when he showed up.

But I get ahead of myself.

Yesterday I decided to do some early morning recon on the bike, check out yet another house that's made our short list. We're ready to buy a house, we can't buy one in March or April (she does taxes, I do the Bethel Spring Series), and we'd rather move sooner than later. Hence the recon.

I knew the bike I'd ordered was on schedule for delivery that day, and since the UPS guy shows up in the early afternoon, I decided to have a last good ride on my primary Giant. The bike has done me well - Cat 3 CT State Champion (twice), Bethel Spring Series overall, big rides in California and Florida, trouble free. A good frame. In a few days though my primary bike might very well be the Cannondale - perhaps a little more focused in purpose, less compromising in certain ways.

I looked up the house and it sits a little closer than the Mountain Road house I'd ridden past on Saturday. Since I could cross over Mountain Road to get to this other house, I decided to stick to what I know - go up to Mountain Road, ride to the end, and come back via this other house's street.

Connecticut's terrain is such that doing north-south rides are generally flat, with a slight uphill bias when heading north - this is because all the rivers eventually flow south to the Atlantic. East-west rides cut across those river valleys and make for a very choppy ride elevation-wise. Since Mountain Road went east-west, and the first third of it was a steep climb (I struggled for 10 minutes in a 39x25 the whole time), I just assumed that there'd be a nice descent on the other side of the road. Mountain Road, after all, didn't end at the top of a ski slope - it's not like L'Alpe D'Huez or anything.

Right?

Well, my 20 minute estimate for Mountain Road (10 for the climb, 10 more for other 2/3 since it would be a descent) ended up taking 35 minutes - the road essentially climbs the whole way. That along with an oxygen befuddled estimate to get to the "top" of Mountain Road (I thought that it took me 40 minutes, including the 10 minute climb, to get there on Saturday - looking back I realized it really took me over an hour) meant I ended up over 30 minutes behind schedule.

To compound matters I took a wrong turn on a very swoopy and fun descent. 45 mph while braking - it's a descent I'll have to revisit as I now know the road better and there are no obstacles to letting the bike fly down the steep and curvy road.

Anyway, I was over 30 minutes further out than I wanted to be and I knew I was dipping heavily into my "cool down and shower" time. I made some big efforts to get back in time for work. This meant pushing into the upper 20s and low 30s on the mainly downhill flats, tucking aggressively on descents, drafting a truck or two, and raising my average speed to over 15 mph.

Sad, right?

Unfortunately it's about what I do when I do a solo ride and there are a couple hills.

I rolled back to the townhouse, barely on time to log in for work. I had already started thinking of how to shower, change, dress, and log in in the one or two minutes I had - and then I saw the sticky note on the door.

UPS had tried to deliver the bike. About three hours earlier than they normally show up.

Ironically I'd been out for a ride, one to celebrate my primary bike's good service to me, myself, and I.

My heart sank, my motivation disappeared, and I logged in while still in bike gear. After our morning meeting I relayed my disappointment to the missus. She suggested I call UPS. I recalled that our office manager would do the same thing at work. So I looked for a number - and the only one I could find was the national one, 1-800-PICK-UPS. I called and the conversation went something like this.

"Hi, I got a note saying the UPS guy tried to deliver a package but I wasn't here. It's my new bike and I've been dying to get it. Is there any way to get the UPS guy to make another attempt today? I've been dying to get this bike."

Stretch the word "dying" out to about one second for good effect.

I could hear a smile on the other end of the line. It's an American thing I think - empathy, help out the customer, find another path to the solution.

"Let me call the regional office and have them get back to you."

A short time later my phone rang.

"Hi, this is UPS in somewhere in Connecticut. We got a request to make a second attempt to deliver a package. Is this correct?"
"Yes, I'm waiting for a package. It's my new bike and I've been dying to get it."

UPS must have a lot of smiling customer service reps because I could hear this one smile too.

"Well, let me page the driver and I'll call you right back."

A short time later, again, my phone rang.

"The driver will be delivering the bike, um, package, in about 30 minutes or so."

So, for the next half hour, whenever I heard something larger than a car drive by, I ran downstairs and opened the door. Mind you, we live just off of a big road and let me tell you, I never knew how many trucks drove by in half an hour until then - I must have run downstairs 15 or 20 times.

The missus called and I told her excitedly my bike was about to show up. Since I was talking and couldn't hear trucks, I went downstairs.

I was standing next to the door when the doorbell rang.

I have no idea what happened with the missus because I basically said something like "The bike is here, bye!" and opened the door. The UPS guy was there, perhaps a little surprised at such a quick response.

"I really haven't been waiting by the door for you to show up," I reassured him. He looked at me skeptically.

And I got my bike.

At first I thought it was new, it was packaged so well. But a couple things pointed to perhaps a floor bike. Seatpost with insertion marks. A previously clamped fork (meaning a wheel was in there). Extra, non-factory cardboard between the box and the bike. Shopping bags containing miscellaneous things like the various manuals and stuff.

I took the bike out and examined the pieces and parts. The last time I bought a big bike item on eBay (my spare Giant frame) it arrived rattling in a big bike box, the loose fork bouncing around, and various little pieces scattered in the box. No padding, nothing secured. There were chips all over the frame and the fork. A bit disappointing to say the least. The guys who packed the Cannondale were awesome, but that didn't mean something wasn't bent or scratched. And eBay feedback is a one time thing.

I'm pleased to say it all checked out. I have yet to test the SRM but it'll have to wait.

I went to adjust the saddle since that is a pretty straightforward task (and a seatpost on its own is good at scratching whatever it touches). I'd steeled myself for the low looking position prior to buying the bike by putting the tape measure next to the Giant along the lines of the new Cannondale. I must have flinched - the tape measure hit halfway up the exposed part of the seat post on the Giant. But it's where it is, the bars would work with the short headtube so I ordered the bike.

I inserted the seatpost and pushed it down till it looked about right. Measured. Pushed it down till the letters on the post were touching the collar. Measured. Pushed down till the letters started disappearing in a rather alarming manner. Measured. Pushed a little bit more. Measured. It was okay.

My post is so far into the frame...

I stepped back and looked at the bike.

Now I realize why semi-level top tube bikes make your seat position seem so low. The Giant made me feel like I was six feet tall. The Cannondale brings me back to, well, my Junior days.

Of course I've been the same height since I started racing.

I couldn't do a lot with the rest of the bike until I got the proper stem, bars, seat, pedals, and some other stuff so I went back upstairs to work.

Later that night I brought up my spare bike (I've ridden it perhaps 6 or 8 weeks - in California, Florida, and twice at Bethel) and took the stem off - it's one of two stems I have that will work for me on a 53.5 cm top tube, and both my Giants and the Cannondale have just that. They also have 13 cm or shorter headtubes so the bars will also be at about the right height. Just take all the spacers out, slam the stem down, and presto, right position.

The massive stem sitting next to the Ritchey stem

I took the massive stem ("submarine stem") off the Cannondale, looked at the jutting steerer tube, and realized my trusty saw is elsewhere. Even my stem spacers are somewhere else. So I put on the relatively dinky stem, a Ritchey 130mm -17 degree. Because all my bars are 26.0 mm, I had to find one to replace the FSA 31.8mm carbon bar. I swapped over the levers, put it on, and called it a day. To keep things together, I piled all the two inch wide spacers on top of the stem.

It looks like I have a little black mug sitting on top of my stem.

See the black shot glass on my stem?

I didn't know what else to do so I installed two bottle cages originally meant for, well, I actually don't know why I ordered four but it seemed like the thing to do at the time. Two sit on my primary Giant, now the other two on the Cannondale.

Until I saw the top of the steerer tube off I won't be riding the bike so I need to put it aside.

I still have some changes to make.
1. The Fulcrum wheels are on there for now, but I'm inclined to sell them while they're new. I'd like to get deep section carbon clinchers and those would make the Fulcrums unnecessary. They are beautiful, have these cool looking squashed spokes, and feel featherly light (1550 grams or so per pair), but I can't justify keeping them if I get 50mm carbon clinchers.
2. I put some "road" bars on the bike but will eventually swap it out for my Mavic Criterium bend bars. The current bars are my "long steady ride" bars for Florida and California.
3. I'll use my FiR Zenith wheels for now (they're blue so they sort of match my green/black bike and my blue/green/white/black kit).
4. I'll keep the 12-25 cassette since the 19, 21, 23, and 25 are titanium. I'll swap some other cogs around so it becomes an 11-25.
5. I have to buy a new SRM computer mount since I don't have a 31.8mm bar. I might jam a lot of spacers between the clamp and bar though - the clamp is a $60 machined aluminum beauty and I'd rather not lose it.
6. I want to sell the bars (42 cm FSA K-Force), the seat (Ti railed Arione) , and the stem (who needs a 100 mm enormous stem?). I might sit on the seat on the trainer first since it looks so pretty.
7. I have to swap over some pedals - probably off my primary Giant since they have the Carbon Keos. I'll take the other Keos off the spin bike and put it on the primary Giant. My fixed gear stuff (track bike, spin bike) will use SPD-Rs.

What it looks like now

So for a little while at least, no riding the new bike. Just some patient waiting.

Sprinting - Throwing your bike

Throwing your bike

This is not where you toss your bike in disgust after a poor performance. For bike tosses, please refer to Greg Lemond (tossing his road bike in the Tour but I don't have a link yet) or Bjarne Riis (tossing a time trial bike in the Tour). If you insist on throwing your bike, be very careful as it is hard on your back. Lemond's story is amusing now although it was probably pretty frustrating back then. He hurt his finger in a crash and could barely pull the front brake lever. This caused him to brake more with the rear wheel. Eventually, with aggressive braking locking up the rear wheel, the tire blew. With no teammates nearby, he actually tried to fix the tire, or so it seems in photos (he's holding a tool of some sort and the tire is partially off the rim), and in disgust threw either the wheel or the bike off to the side of the road. This hurt his back and he had to nurse that for a bit. I believe he still won the Tour - and I'm pretty sure it was 1990 since he was in the World Championship jersey.

Anyway, back in the present...

I love sprinting. One of the things that amazes me is the number of racers strong enough to get to the line at the front but not knowledgeable enough to throw their bike. It's common to see someone lose 2-3-4 places because of a dismal or missing bike throw. In one particular Tour de Michigan sprint (in Lansing), the field was lined up curb to curb and the front row was going dog slow due to a head wind. But due to the width of the road, no one could pass the front ten riders. As one of about 10 racers stuck in the second row, I alternately pedaled, coasted, braked, and then pedaled again. We were totally stuck behind the front row of racers. At the line I agressively threw my bike forward in between two racers in the front row. My front wheel ended up by their cranks, pedals, and downtubes. My place? 11th. Someone in the same row as me probably got 20th. Big difference.

You may say, "Well I'm not a pro", or "It isn't really important". Okay that's fine. But if you're at the front, you've put in a good race to end up there. It would be good to finish off that effort.

In sprinting, throwing your bike is completely different from a "bike toss". It refers to pushing your bike forward relative to your body. Remember, the rules of cycling state that you finish when the front tire breaks the finish line's vertical plane (Rule 1N1). If you can push the bike forward a bit, you'll finish a little quicker.

The reason why throwing your bike forward works is you weigh a lot more than your bike. For example, if you have a 20 lbs bike and you weigh 160lbs, you weigh eight times the bike. Any movement you make with the bike will be resisted by your body. For example, if you shove the bike forward 8 inches, your body will move back 1 inch. This nets you a 7 inch forward movement. If you're side by side with someone and fighting for every inch, a good bike throw could net you 12-18 inches. This is more than half a wheel, and if you're scrabbling for an inch or two, you really have to take advantage of that 12-18 inches.

Throwing the bike is simple. You start by holding the drops and sprinting out of the saddle. When you are very close to the line (about 10 feet or whenever your feet are parallel to the ground), extend your arms and legs forward. This forces your butt to go behind the seat, almost to the point where you are sitting on your rear tire. Your stomach/chest will almost be on the seat.

You can practice this in slow motion. Use your cycling shoes, your bike - it might on on a easy training ride or while you wait for people to catch up to you after a stoplight or pee-stop. You should be standing up, rocking the bike back and forth like your sprinting. Pick a line (shadow, crack in road, whatever) and make that your goal. As you approach it, extend your arms forward. Your legs will naturally level with one foot forward. If you don't slide your butt off the back of the seat, you won't be able to extend all the way. So slide your butt off the seat till the front wheel is barely weighted. Your forward leg should be virtually straight and your arms should be totally straight. Your stomach/chest will end up on the seat. If you aren't careful, you'll just fall off the back of the bike.

The wrong way to throw your bike is to simply extend your arms without moving your butt off the saddle. All this does is hunch your back. Your bike can't move forward because you're still sitting on it. A similar mistake is to simply stand up without sliding the seat forward. If you simply stand up, you're not pushing your bike forward, you're simply moving your body up.

Revisiting that picture at the beginning of the blog, you'll see that my competitor, Morgan, has moved his body up more than back. This caused his bike to maintain its position relative to his bike/body unit. In contrast, I've move my butt completely off the seat and came close to sitting on the rear wheel. My legs aren't level because I was desperately pedaling as I threw the bike. My arms were so extended I briefly lost my grip on the right side of the bar and careened to the left curb just after the line.

The kicker with that particular sprint is that I was going slower than Morgan right before the line. I was in the process of losing the race when I started my bike throw. I simply threw my bike quickly and used up what momentum I had to shove it forward. I was passed about a foot after the line, but it was okay. The throw was enough to win the sprint, the race, and the Series.