Inevitably people ask me about sprint workouts. There are a lot of different ideas floating around out there and many of them do help with your sprint. For me, though, sprint workouts should include a few things:
1. Fun
2. Speed and a feeling of going really fast
3. Optimize maximum speed
Doing 100% all out efforts is not easy. I no longer have the mental gumption to do anything really hard that lasts longer than, say, a minute. Sprinting is fun for me and therefore I enjoy doing sprint workouts, I don't get burnt out, and I don't mind exerting myself for the 30-60 seconds necessary for a sprint.
The only thing is that the workouts don't seem right if you don't finish an effort and say "Boy was I flying!". Maybe you're working on going faster so you're thinking, "Boy I wish I was a bit faster!" That's fine. But if you finish an effort and think, "I really think I should have been able to beat that guy on the Huffy with flat tires riding to work" then maybe it's time to take a break and do the workout a different day.
The most important part of sprinting, and a thing that I've never seen mentioned anywhere, is that you absolutely have to work on increasing your maximum speed. It can be on a flat road or one that's very slightly downhill, but you have to increase your maximum speed.
Max speed not only helps your sprint but it also makes any other racing incrementally easier. If your max speed is 31 mph and an attack goes off at 35 mph, you'll be in trouble. If your max speed is 37 mph, you'll be hanging on for dear life. But if it's 42 mph you'll easily manage a 35 mph attack.
Workouts
Please keep in mind that these workouts should be done by riders after they've gotten cleared by their doctors. Also, although everyone can increase their max speed, you will not be able to transform a non-sprinting rider into a pure sprinter. It takes more to beat a pure sprinter than just sprinting against them head to head.
Determine Maximum Optimal Sprint Speed
My favorite jump/sprint workout (after you've warmed up and are sweating a bit) is to find a slight (1-5%) downhill followed by a flat section the length you require for a sprint (at least 200m). Use the downhill as your "leadout" and jump as hard as possible at your start point (on the flat). Try doing this in a cross/tail wind and keep track of your max speeds. As an alternative to the downhill, draft large motorized vehicles to help bring you up to speed. This speed will be your maximum optimal sprint speed (MOSS).
Hey I made up an acronym!
You can do these sprints weekly to keep track of your MOSS (say 3-10 times on the day you do it). Twice a week might be maximum, otherwise you end up just overdoing it. You'll find the speeds creeping up naturally.
As a "normal" racer, i.e. a Cat 3-5, your minimum MOSS should be 31-32 mph. In other words, you really, really need to hit that speed. It's better if you can hit 35-38 mph and you'll probably find yourself at that speed as a late Cat5 or a new Cat 4. And if you can break 40-42 mph, you're in Cat 3 race placing territory. 44-46 mph will win you races. Remember, this is an "optimal" sprint, one where you're relatively fresh and have a perfect "leadout".
Once you get an idea of your MOSS in the workout above, do some other types of sprint workouts to try and increase your MOSS.
Alternate Gear Sprint Workout
Sprint from a rolling start up to your maximum speed and alternate gears high and low. Try alternating between a 53x14 and 53x17 for starters (I think that will be the lowest pair of gears usable - whatever pair you use, you should have a 3-4 tooth gap for your two gears). You'll think the easy gear is easy when you first start the workout, but as your legs fatigue, you'll really be jonesing for the big gear interval - the little gear is so hard to spin fluently once fatigued. (Note: this is why roadies sprint in big gears and trackies sprint in little gears).
The alternating gear workout helps you learn the difference between "pushing" and "spinning". Since this is not an optimal speed workout, you may not hit your max speeds, even in the bigger gears. This is normal - I find myself losing about 10-15% of my top end speed.
Group Sprint Workout
The best sprint workouts I ever got was a Tues night sprint ride at a local university on a 2 mile loop (SUNY Purchase for those in the NYC area). Approximately 50-150 riders of all levels (up to Cat 1, national team riders - Jessica Greico was probably the best known racer who regularly showed up) would show up for 2-3 hours. Approx 1km-long committed leadouts (started on a 200 meter slight downhill followed by an undulated 800-1000 meters) by numerous leadout riders meant the leadout would typically hit 35-38 mph on a slow day and 40+mph on a fast day.
The top speeds I observed were typically 42-46 mph on the 200m slight downgrade to the line. 15-20 sprints really cooked your legs and I learned a lot of tactics and techniques on sprinting by doing these sprints. I learned that if you have the power, you can jump really hard even if you're going really fast already. I also learned that you can fake-jump hard enough to draw out non-sprinters one or two times, then sprint for real. Finally I got to work on my bike throw a lot.
Group sprint workouts are motivating, fun, and slightly dangerous. With the fun and competitiveness of group sprints, you also end up with a chance of either accidents or poor riders causing problems. Keep your head up and remember it's not a race, even though you might be sprinting as if it were one.
Urban Sprint Workout
Another workout is the "urban sprint workout". I personally enjoy sprinting with cars in city traffic. Pick a loop that has all one-way traffic (or median'ed roads so there is no one driving towards you). I have a favorite 2 mile loop and the speed limit is 30 or 35 mph which means drivers go 35-40 mph. This is perfect for motorpacing up to my jump point, 200 meters from a nice crosswalk.
My sprint speed varies wildly with traffic, wind, and my legs - it may be as low as 34 mph and as high as 48 mph (well, on one day I hit that mark a few times). Doing this workout with friends is more consistent since they're on bikes and it's easier to hold their wheels. But doing it alone is fine. Trucks are a rare treat so they receive the most magnetic drafting attention possible.
When I worked in NYC going up and down the large Avenues was a real treat. Synchronized lights, some semblence of awareness of cyclists, and everyone driving 35 mph or so.
Group Rides (with sprint lines)
Many group rides have one or two sprint lines incorporated into the route. These are excellent places to practice sprinting for a number of reasons:
1. Lots of riders, many of whom you don't really know.
2. Only one chance at each line.
3. Natural variables like wind, temperature, pack riding patterns subtlely alter the demands of the sprint.
4. Natural competition.
Group rides are like races because you don't know everyone (and their habits), you have only one chance at the line, a lot of people want to beat you, and you won't know the conditions at the sprint till you get there.
I do one group ride only for its sprints. Sometimes I'm on my own (no teammates), sometimes I have friends or allies (teammates or simply allies), but I suffer like a dog to be able to contest the first sprint. To be completely frank, I rarely make it with the group to the second sprint. Therefore the first sprint is the one I pinpoint.
It's a real treat when someone you don't necessarily know too well decides to lead you out. It's even better when that rider is far better than you. One sprint that I particularly liked was in NY when one guy (Ray Diaz, one tough racer, second from left in this picture) tried to lead out his less experienced teammate. I heard them talking a bit, Ray was pointing at the riders to watch, so I figured they'd be a good leadout. With 500 meters to go I managed to squirm my way onto Ray's wheel and he looked back, read the scene (me on his wheel, his buddy on mine) and decided to keep the leadout going. This was awesome!
The only problem was that Ray wasn't ramping up the speed the way I preferred. I love sprints where I'm being led out at 40+ mph, where it's a struggle just to hang onto the wheel in front. It makes the actual sprint a lot more decisive. Ray's leadout didn't seem like one of these. In his defense, this was a mid-ride sprint and there are a couple false flats immediately after the sprint that are leg breakers right after a hard effort.
I figured that since I wasn't his teammate (and Ray's teammate was on my wheel), Ray would keep the speed a little lower and force me to jump early (and lead out his teammate). It worked. I got worried that we'd get swarmed and started to ride a bit to his side, trying to ride as "wide" as possible, drawing my front wheel to his bottom bracket area. After sitting there for about 5 seconds, I decided I had to go (after all I had very little benefit from the draft and I was actually helping those behind me). I launched very early, sat up when I had a big gap, and soft pedaled about 100 meters to the line. I didn't contest when one furiously sprinting rider "caught" me at the line - after all, I was satisfied with the gap I opened and my sprint in general, and I was already recovering for the upcoming false flats. To Ray's credit, the group was completely strung out behind me so I was being a bit paranoid on the swarming bit.
Ray rode up to me afterwards. He was grinning (it seems like everyone involved in fun sprints grins afterwards) and told me I could have won if I'd waited. I pointed out I could have pedaled a bit to win the sprint but I had been more concerned with working on field positioning and my actual sprint (the physical bit of sprinting, not the bike throw). I also mentioned that I figured he wasn't ramping up the speed so as to force me to go earlier.
"But I was going 37 mph!" he protested.
"Exactly.. too slow!"
We laughed.
I told him if he'd been holding 40 mph, I would have felt comfortable waiting. 37 mph - well it seemed like a feint to me. I think he thought I was joking, but I wasn't. A couple more mph and no one would have thought about moving up early.
He laughed at my remark and rode up to the front of the group to proceeded to make mincemeat out of everyone's legs, mine included. That was the difference between him and me. While he was at the front merrily pulling away right after a huge effort, I groveled at the back to try and make it to the second sprint. I don't remember anything about that sprint so I am guessing I got popped sometime before it.
By the way I'm a lowly Cat 3 (1 being national level and 5 being beginner) and although I can sprint reasonably well, there are a lot of guys who sprint way better than I do. I mention the speeds because in Cat 3 races, although they may average 25-27 mph for an hour, typically contain short bursts at 36-38 mph to bridge to a break, attacks at up to 42 mph, and generally things are going fast only after we're going over 31 mph.
Anyway, I hope these tips help you with your sprinting.
Oh I forgot one more tip on sprinting.
If you're sprinting against Aki, forget everything he ever said about sprinting.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Friday, February 02, 2007
How To - The Actual Sprint
Sprinting.
My only strength is sprinting.
If it wasn't, the blog would be called something other than Sprinter della Casa.
What this means is I spend a lot of time thinking of how to make my sprints count.
I find that I focus on particular things when planning my approach to an upcoming sprint. This is assuming I'm in position to contest an upcoming sprint, i.e. I'm still in the race. If I am, I think about the following things (Note: the things I think about are relatively universal, i.e. if you approach sprinting the same way, it should help you too):
1. Gearing
2. Shifting
3. Length of sprint
These have nothing to do with training or positioning or any of the many other factors in sprinting. What it does is focus on the actual sprint itself - when will you start it, what gearing will you use, and the idea of shifting in the sprint.
Gearing
If I'm being led out (or sitting behind unwitting lead out riders), I typically shift up one or two gears relative to the riders in front, i.e. instead of the 15T, use the 14T or 13T. This suits my strength (power jump). Roadies are typically power sprinters and use their power to muscle the gear.
Since the speeds are quite high in a leadout, it's not unusual to find myself already in the 12 just before the sprint, my legs cruising along, itching to jump. If my legs are getting a bit "slow" feeling, I'll pop up to a bigger cog for a rev or two and then drop back into my "jump" gear.
Because approaching a sprint is rarely a planned thing, you can't really plan on your final sprint gear. It might be the case that a fanatically committed team leads the sprint out and you're hanging on in your 11T. Or everyone looks at each other with 500 meters to go so you're cruising in a 15T. However you can think about your actual sprinting gear with a +/- 1T range for wind, tired/fresh legs, optimal/non-optimal jump, etc.
Regardless, you need some rpm headroom for your jump. In your car you don't downshift to accelerate from 6000 rpm if you have a 6500 rpm redline. Instead, select a gear that allows you to accelerate from, say, 4000 rpm up to redline. This is assuming some factors like you have enough torque at 4000 rpms and stuff. But I digress. It would do no good to jump at 140 rpm when you make more power at 120 rpm. Instead, it would be better to jump at, say, 110 rpm so that you spend a lot of time in the meat of your powerband and then start to sprint out of it before you shift up to the next gear.
One requirement to execute is you have to get to the beginning of the sprint reasonably fresh. If you've killed yourself simply to get into position, you won't have the boost necessary to launch you to the finish. This is my take on Zabel's sprint performances.
I have helmet cam tapes (from a cam I wore on my helmet) which I watch when I want to psych myself up. Two things surprise me. One is how far apart everyone rides. The other is how much faster I go in the sprint versus any other time in the race. Even the relatively hard moves to get into position pale in comparison to the mic-flooding rush of wind produced when I launch into my final sprint.
When one talks about gearing and sprinting, one can always debate the advantages of spinning versus powering a big gear. Trackies typically use much lower gears and still hit incredible speeds - 43 mph is not unheard of with a 51x14. Mark Whitehead (a great trackie) and Davis Phinney once met head to head in a sprint on Phinney's turf, a criterium. Whitehead was spinning a 53x15 with sewing machine like legs while Phinney churned his 53x12. Since it was road turf, the Phinney's power sprint won in the end. As a general rule it is easier to power a big gear at a certain speed at the end of a long race rather than spin a smaller gear. As long as you don't go too far over 120 rpms in road sprints you should be fine.
Moral of that story? You can work on your spin sprint but on the road you absolutely need your power.
Shifting
Once you start your sprint, you must be able shift any time you like. If you can't sprint at 100% and shift at the same time, you might as well put downtube shifters on your bike.
If you've installed and adjusted things properly, your drivetrain can take a full on shift (out of the saddle, no easing up, no thought to when to shift). It might be loud or unsettle your bike (or in the old days jerk your foot out of a triple-binda set so tight your toes turn purple) but your bike will shift. In the old days I used a single right-side bar end shifter and chopped my bar so the shifter sat right in the palm of my hand.
If shifting under full gas you may unclip, skip your rear wheel, wrench your bars if not tightened, bend them if you're really strong, etc. It's critical to practice shifting while sprinting before you do it in a race. You don't want to learn in the middle of a big field sprint that your derailleur wasn't adjusted quite right as your chain jams between your 11T and the frame. I've had to crank my pedals down a little more than normal, to the point where I can't unclip with just my foot - I have to hit my shoe with my hand to unclip.
I use Campy Ergo levers set relatively low on the bars. If you have your levers up high (like a climber) then it'll be virtually impossible to shift from the drops while at full gas. The reason? You have to move your hands up to shift. If your levers are optimally placed you'll have access to the controls while you're sprinting.
I see a lot of riders set up their levers so it's "comfy" when you're riding on the hoods. The problem when it comes down to a sprint is that you don't ever want to sprint from the hoods. You lose power, control, and braking ability. Drop your levers down so you can shift from the drops without any contortionistic maneuvers. You don't have to get SRAM levers to shift in the sprint - just put the levers you have now in the right place.
Length of Sprint
A long time ago I read that a human body can sprint (at max effort) for 40 pedal revolutions. I took that as gospel and followed its implied message ("You'll cover the last bit of the race fastest if you sprint for 40 revolutions"). But during long trainer sessions watching race tapes of big field finishes, I counted the pedal strokes the Tour sprinters did once they jumped into the wind. Surprisingly I found most of them did only 8-10 strokes in the wind in the stages I checked. The exception was the final stage when they inevitably went about 20 revs. I realized afterwards that the Champs Elysee finish is a slight downhill sprint so sitting on wheels is less advantageous.
One of my best sprints ever was one where I committed to going at about 10 revolutions to go before I even got to the race. The venue was one of my "target races" (I have two or three a year) so it was pretty important to me to do well. I hadn't managed to break into the top 5 or 6 but always seemed to be around 10th so I knew doing better was possible. Normally I wouldn't go to a target race and radically change my approach but since I'd been doing the race a long time I figured I had to change something. I picked out a landmark which was about 10 revolutions from the end and decided I'd gamble and go very late in the sprint.
The race went reasonably well and it came down to a big field sprint. I waited for what seemed like an eternity as racer after racer launched into their final sprint. I grimly hung on about 10 or 15 riders back and waited for my mark. In the end I probably went a revolution early but did a spectacular sprint and threw my bike for third or fourth.
Could I have done better had I gone earlier? I think so. I think Tour racers have so little left after four hours finished off by a very fast run in to the sprint. The pros can't afford to go too much earlier because they're used a lot of their reserves before 200 meters to go. I, on the other hand, have much more in reserve - I'm probably still flush with carbs and stuff and not starting to get those weak, dizzy spells I get after being on the bike for 3 or 4 hours.
With the 8 or 10 revolution sprint out of the way, I now go a bit earlier in general. I do try and limit my sprints to 20 revs or less, and unless I flub my position going into the sprint, I've been successful. At a new race venue I'll ride backwards from the finish in the gear I think I might use for 20 revs, find a landmark, and try and be in good position at that landmark. Wind, legs, and lead out determine the final gear but after a lot of sprints and a lot of racing, I have gotten good at figuring out a base gear for the sprint.
Now if you are sprinting against me, all these things don't apply. Go from 40-60 revolutions out, sprint on the hoods, and jump and stay in your 12T.
:)
My only strength is sprinting.
If it wasn't, the blog would be called something other than Sprinter della Casa.
What this means is I spend a lot of time thinking of how to make my sprints count.
I find that I focus on particular things when planning my approach to an upcoming sprint. This is assuming I'm in position to contest an upcoming sprint, i.e. I'm still in the race. If I am, I think about the following things (Note: the things I think about are relatively universal, i.e. if you approach sprinting the same way, it should help you too):
1. Gearing
2. Shifting
3. Length of sprint
These have nothing to do with training or positioning or any of the many other factors in sprinting. What it does is focus on the actual sprint itself - when will you start it, what gearing will you use, and the idea of shifting in the sprint.
Gearing
If I'm being led out (or sitting behind unwitting lead out riders), I typically shift up one or two gears relative to the riders in front, i.e. instead of the 15T, use the 14T or 13T. This suits my strength (power jump). Roadies are typically power sprinters and use their power to muscle the gear.
Since the speeds are quite high in a leadout, it's not unusual to find myself already in the 12 just before the sprint, my legs cruising along, itching to jump. If my legs are getting a bit "slow" feeling, I'll pop up to a bigger cog for a rev or two and then drop back into my "jump" gear.
Because approaching a sprint is rarely a planned thing, you can't really plan on your final sprint gear. It might be the case that a fanatically committed team leads the sprint out and you're hanging on in your 11T. Or everyone looks at each other with 500 meters to go so you're cruising in a 15T. However you can think about your actual sprinting gear with a +/- 1T range for wind, tired/fresh legs, optimal/non-optimal jump, etc.
Regardless, you need some rpm headroom for your jump. In your car you don't downshift to accelerate from 6000 rpm if you have a 6500 rpm redline. Instead, select a gear that allows you to accelerate from, say, 4000 rpm up to redline. This is assuming some factors like you have enough torque at 4000 rpms and stuff. But I digress. It would do no good to jump at 140 rpm when you make more power at 120 rpm. Instead, it would be better to jump at, say, 110 rpm so that you spend a lot of time in the meat of your powerband and then start to sprint out of it before you shift up to the next gear.
One requirement to execute is you have to get to the beginning of the sprint reasonably fresh. If you've killed yourself simply to get into position, you won't have the boost necessary to launch you to the finish. This is my take on Zabel's sprint performances.
I have helmet cam tapes (from a cam I wore on my helmet) which I watch when I want to psych myself up. Two things surprise me. One is how far apart everyone rides. The other is how much faster I go in the sprint versus any other time in the race. Even the relatively hard moves to get into position pale in comparison to the mic-flooding rush of wind produced when I launch into my final sprint.
When one talks about gearing and sprinting, one can always debate the advantages of spinning versus powering a big gear. Trackies typically use much lower gears and still hit incredible speeds - 43 mph is not unheard of with a 51x14. Mark Whitehead (a great trackie) and Davis Phinney once met head to head in a sprint on Phinney's turf, a criterium. Whitehead was spinning a 53x15 with sewing machine like legs while Phinney churned his 53x12. Since it was road turf, the Phinney's power sprint won in the end. As a general rule it is easier to power a big gear at a certain speed at the end of a long race rather than spin a smaller gear. As long as you don't go too far over 120 rpms in road sprints you should be fine.
Moral of that story? You can work on your spin sprint but on the road you absolutely need your power.
Shifting
Once you start your sprint, you must be able shift any time you like. If you can't sprint at 100% and shift at the same time, you might as well put downtube shifters on your bike.
If you've installed and adjusted things properly, your drivetrain can take a full on shift (out of the saddle, no easing up, no thought to when to shift). It might be loud or unsettle your bike (or in the old days jerk your foot out of a triple-binda set so tight your toes turn purple) but your bike will shift. In the old days I used a single right-side bar end shifter and chopped my bar so the shifter sat right in the palm of my hand.
If shifting under full gas you may unclip, skip your rear wheel, wrench your bars if not tightened, bend them if you're really strong, etc. It's critical to practice shifting while sprinting before you do it in a race. You don't want to learn in the middle of a big field sprint that your derailleur wasn't adjusted quite right as your chain jams between your 11T and the frame. I've had to crank my pedals down a little more than normal, to the point where I can't unclip with just my foot - I have to hit my shoe with my hand to unclip.
I use Campy Ergo levers set relatively low on the bars. If you have your levers up high (like a climber) then it'll be virtually impossible to shift from the drops while at full gas. The reason? You have to move your hands up to shift. If your levers are optimally placed you'll have access to the controls while you're sprinting.
I see a lot of riders set up their levers so it's "comfy" when you're riding on the hoods. The problem when it comes down to a sprint is that you don't ever want to sprint from the hoods. You lose power, control, and braking ability. Drop your levers down so you can shift from the drops without any contortionistic maneuvers. You don't have to get SRAM levers to shift in the sprint - just put the levers you have now in the right place.
Length of Sprint
A long time ago I read that a human body can sprint (at max effort) for 40 pedal revolutions. I took that as gospel and followed its implied message ("You'll cover the last bit of the race fastest if you sprint for 40 revolutions"). But during long trainer sessions watching race tapes of big field finishes, I counted the pedal strokes the Tour sprinters did once they jumped into the wind. Surprisingly I found most of them did only 8-10 strokes in the wind in the stages I checked. The exception was the final stage when they inevitably went about 20 revs. I realized afterwards that the Champs Elysee finish is a slight downhill sprint so sitting on wheels is less advantageous.
One of my best sprints ever was one where I committed to going at about 10 revolutions to go before I even got to the race. The venue was one of my "target races" (I have two or three a year) so it was pretty important to me to do well. I hadn't managed to break into the top 5 or 6 but always seemed to be around 10th so I knew doing better was possible. Normally I wouldn't go to a target race and radically change my approach but since I'd been doing the race a long time I figured I had to change something. I picked out a landmark which was about 10 revolutions from the end and decided I'd gamble and go very late in the sprint.
The race went reasonably well and it came down to a big field sprint. I waited for what seemed like an eternity as racer after racer launched into their final sprint. I grimly hung on about 10 or 15 riders back and waited for my mark. In the end I probably went a revolution early but did a spectacular sprint and threw my bike for third or fourth.
Could I have done better had I gone earlier? I think so. I think Tour racers have so little left after four hours finished off by a very fast run in to the sprint. The pros can't afford to go too much earlier because they're used a lot of their reserves before 200 meters to go. I, on the other hand, have much more in reserve - I'm probably still flush with carbs and stuff and not starting to get those weak, dizzy spells I get after being on the bike for 3 or 4 hours.
With the 8 or 10 revolution sprint out of the way, I now go a bit earlier in general. I do try and limit my sprints to 20 revs or less, and unless I flub my position going into the sprint, I've been successful. At a new race venue I'll ride backwards from the finish in the gear I think I might use for 20 revs, find a landmark, and try and be in good position at that landmark. Wind, legs, and lead out determine the final gear but after a lot of sprints and a lot of racing, I have gotten good at figuring out a base gear for the sprint.
Now if you are sprinting against me, all these things don't apply. Go from 40-60 revolutions out, sprint on the hoods, and jump and stay in your 12T.
:)
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
How To - why the long base miles?
For those of you who know me and the type of racing I do, it would seem incongruous for me to go do my long "training camps" in January and February. For the last few years, I've done just that though. In January I fly down to Gainesville, FL, and in February I fly over to San Diego, CA. I typically do a bunch of shorter 3 hour rides and sprinkle in some longer rides, say 5 or 6 hours long. All this for a not-so-serious, way past his prime, ultra low VO2 max, Category 3 bike racer.
So why do these camps with the long, drawn out days?
Well one part is simply having some fun. To wit: I went to the free Mazda Rev-it-up autocross day. One year they let you drive with a driving instructor in the then-new RX-8. My instructor was some kind of pro-driver. It's sort of like going on a ride with, say, Christian Vandevelde. Maybe not the best in the world but certainly able to ride with the big boys. When I got in the RX-8, I politely (probably with a big sh-eating grin plastered on my face) asked how he was doing.
"Livin' the motorsport dream."
Hard to top that.
So when I'm in Florida or California, that's part of it. Living the bike racing dream. It's nice to ride without having to worry about work, commuting, things like that. Life becomes quite elemental. Wake up. See how fatigued one's legs feel. Eat. See if eating helps the system. Flush out said system. Figure out route and ride goals. Ride. Shower. Eat. Relax a bit. Eat more. Maybe do laundry (bike gear) in that eat/relax time.
Florida is like that but the eating is mainly done out since I stay in a hotel. Also I go with someone so my schedule is somewhat determined by the fact that he rents the car! In California I have some deadlines - I need to be back by about 5-ish so I try and get out by 11. And I try to do things like cook or do dishes or something since I stay at friends'.
So that's one part of doing these training camps.
Another part is, well, training. Lemond had a few ideas on training which I can recall. I thought his ideas were pretty radical at the time but they agreed with what I believed and did so it was easy to accept them.
1. He pointed out that LSD riding didn't mean riding in a small gear. Back then, LSD was the "winter" type of riding everyone did. Francesco Moser came to Florida to train and twiddled around in a 42x18 for hundreds of miles. Lemond didn't agree with that. Most articles on "what LSD really means" correctly stated that the "S" emphasized "Steady" instead of "Slow". So LSD was "Long, Steady Distance". Lemond went a step further. He said that "Steady" could mean "Pretty Fast" if you're fit. For Lemond, an easy ride was rolling around in a 53x15. When he stated this, that was my Junior gear limit (my biggest gear!).
2. Lemond also pointed out that short burst efforts can be done at any time as long as the legs were warm (warm to reduce risk of injury to tendons). He specifically said doing sprint type workouts all year should be fine. He recommended doing this twice a week max. I think his definition of a sprint was a jump to speed in a big gear or up to 60 seconds of all out effort.
3. I believe he did not endorse doing longer efforts in the off season. For example he didn't say you should go and climb super hard in the off season. In fact the article was written in conjunction with a "sidebar" covering a LeMond training camp. In that particular camp there were riders who just couldn't restrain themselves and attacked everyone, Lemond included. There was one big climb where one guy managed to distance even Lemond. As the article pointed out, we didn't read much about that February champion, but Lemond, well we read all about him in July.
4. The final thing Lemond pointed out is that he has plenty of base miles - at that time it must have been 10 or 15 years of base miles. So he didn't feel the need to do the long rides which most people do during the winter.
I've been criticized for riding too far for my 20 or 30 mile races. I agree that riding too much doesn't do you any good - I spent my first year as a Senior doing insane miles - sometimes 500 or 600 miles a week. My results - I finished only one of about fifty races and struggled with burnout the whole season. So, yes, long miles all the time are not necessarily productive.
Finally, there's the skill part. Long rides accomplish things even for those who don't, say, race 200 km at a time, and there are substantial benefits in doing those long rides and they have nothing to do with fitness.
1. After 3-4-5+ hours on the bike, you learn to be super efficient, smooth, how to sit on the bike in different ways, etc. Short rides let you get away with all sorts of inefficiencies, but after a few hours, you learn you really shouldn't churn a gear at 40 rpm or that standing and spinning at 110 rpm up hills doesn't work that well. This translates to more efficient riding for, say, 25 miles.
2. You learn which gear works best - shorts, gloves, bars, tape, shoes, pedals, etc. Shorts that seem fine for 30 minutes might rub you raw in two hours. That beautiful shoe might rub a hole in your Achilles after a few hours. And those really cool gloves... not so cool when you can't feel your fingers anymore.
3. You learn how your body's energy and hydration levels go down and up when you eat (sugar or protein), drink (sugar or plain water, caffeine or no caffeine), or don't eat or drink. When you consume some sugar product, your energy drops for a few minutes, returns to "normal" for a while, then starts to wane. More substantial food may take longer to kick in but offer a steadier energy level.
4. When you exhaust your preferred way of approaching "ride features" (wind, hills, pothole, etc) due to being really tired, you learn other ways of approaching the same thing. I used to climb seated most of the time after experimenting and finding I could hang on longer seated rather than standing. Towards the end of a grueling many-hour ride and desperately trying to hang on to my riding partner, I started standing and flicking the bike a bit side to side. I ended up waiting for my riding partner on the hills by the end of the ride.
5. You start doing things on autopilot when fatigued and it becomes second nature. Some are performance oriented (shifting smoothly, pedaling smoothly) and some are technically oriented (efficiently bunny hopping a pothole without cramping your legs doing it, recovering without thinking when front tire washes out on sand, avoiding that car swerving across your path, doing a trackstand at a light).
6. You notice the most minor position changes and how it affects your riding. Your newly found "great seat position" actually causes your crotch to go numb. Or that tilted down saddle (have you *ever* seen a pro with a tilted down saddle? Well there's a reason you haven't)... you wonder why your hands are so uncomfortable?
7. Eventually, if you allow yourself to learn from both your long rides as well as watching those more experienced than yourself, you develop a fluency on the bike unobtainable any other way. Other riders describe you as "smooth" or "fluent". Or simply "He's a good wheel to follow."
8. This learning ultimately has to be done outside on the road. Super efficient trainer (or roller) workouts only mean you are optimizing yourself for trainer or roller competition. Riding the mountain bike, while offering certain skill training, does not arm a rider for optimal road riding. Look at former World Champion mountain biker Michael Rasmussen. Have you ever seen a worse descender?
Riding outside is important since I spend most of my riding time indoors, even during the season. As soon as I go outside I experience all sorts of sore muscles as my bike becomes free to move around, I can do downhill tucks, throw the bike for imaginary lines, and corner like a madman.
Most experienced riders think of the above mentioned habits as second nature but for new riders, long rides go a long way towards forcing the rider to become smoother and more efficient. The winter is a great time to get riders used to new gear and work on this type of riding for all levels of riders.
So, although my longest race is probably 25 miles long (I normally don't do road races), my training rides in Jan and Feb sometimes extend to 4-5-6+ hours and many of them are at least 3 hours long. I seem to relearn a lot about cycling on those rides.
And in the middle of those rides, yes, I do sprint after the occasional car or truck.
So why do these camps with the long, drawn out days?
Well one part is simply having some fun. To wit: I went to the free Mazda Rev-it-up autocross day. One year they let you drive with a driving instructor in the then-new RX-8. My instructor was some kind of pro-driver. It's sort of like going on a ride with, say, Christian Vandevelde. Maybe not the best in the world but certainly able to ride with the big boys. When I got in the RX-8, I politely (probably with a big sh-eating grin plastered on my face) asked how he was doing.
"Livin' the motorsport dream."
Hard to top that.
So when I'm in Florida or California, that's part of it. Living the bike racing dream. It's nice to ride without having to worry about work, commuting, things like that. Life becomes quite elemental. Wake up. See how fatigued one's legs feel. Eat. See if eating helps the system. Flush out said system. Figure out route and ride goals. Ride. Shower. Eat. Relax a bit. Eat more. Maybe do laundry (bike gear) in that eat/relax time.
Florida is like that but the eating is mainly done out since I stay in a hotel. Also I go with someone so my schedule is somewhat determined by the fact that he rents the car! In California I have some deadlines - I need to be back by about 5-ish so I try and get out by 11. And I try to do things like cook or do dishes or something since I stay at friends'.
So that's one part of doing these training camps.
Another part is, well, training. Lemond had a few ideas on training which I can recall. I thought his ideas were pretty radical at the time but they agreed with what I believed and did so it was easy to accept them.
1. He pointed out that LSD riding didn't mean riding in a small gear. Back then, LSD was the "winter" type of riding everyone did. Francesco Moser came to Florida to train and twiddled around in a 42x18 for hundreds of miles. Lemond didn't agree with that. Most articles on "what LSD really means" correctly stated that the "S" emphasized "Steady" instead of "Slow". So LSD was "Long, Steady Distance". Lemond went a step further. He said that "Steady" could mean "Pretty Fast" if you're fit. For Lemond, an easy ride was rolling around in a 53x15. When he stated this, that was my Junior gear limit (my biggest gear!).
2. Lemond also pointed out that short burst efforts can be done at any time as long as the legs were warm (warm to reduce risk of injury to tendons). He specifically said doing sprint type workouts all year should be fine. He recommended doing this twice a week max. I think his definition of a sprint was a jump to speed in a big gear or up to 60 seconds of all out effort.
3. I believe he did not endorse doing longer efforts in the off season. For example he didn't say you should go and climb super hard in the off season. In fact the article was written in conjunction with a "sidebar" covering a LeMond training camp. In that particular camp there were riders who just couldn't restrain themselves and attacked everyone, Lemond included. There was one big climb where one guy managed to distance even Lemond. As the article pointed out, we didn't read much about that February champion, but Lemond, well we read all about him in July.
4. The final thing Lemond pointed out is that he has plenty of base miles - at that time it must have been 10 or 15 years of base miles. So he didn't feel the need to do the long rides which most people do during the winter.
I've been criticized for riding too far for my 20 or 30 mile races. I agree that riding too much doesn't do you any good - I spent my first year as a Senior doing insane miles - sometimes 500 or 600 miles a week. My results - I finished only one of about fifty races and struggled with burnout the whole season. So, yes, long miles all the time are not necessarily productive.
Finally, there's the skill part. Long rides accomplish things even for those who don't, say, race 200 km at a time, and there are substantial benefits in doing those long rides and they have nothing to do with fitness.
1. After 3-4-5+ hours on the bike, you learn to be super efficient, smooth, how to sit on the bike in different ways, etc. Short rides let you get away with all sorts of inefficiencies, but after a few hours, you learn you really shouldn't churn a gear at 40 rpm or that standing and spinning at 110 rpm up hills doesn't work that well. This translates to more efficient riding for, say, 25 miles.
2. You learn which gear works best - shorts, gloves, bars, tape, shoes, pedals, etc. Shorts that seem fine for 30 minutes might rub you raw in two hours. That beautiful shoe might rub a hole in your Achilles after a few hours. And those really cool gloves... not so cool when you can't feel your fingers anymore.
3. You learn how your body's energy and hydration levels go down and up when you eat (sugar or protein), drink (sugar or plain water, caffeine or no caffeine), or don't eat or drink. When you consume some sugar product, your energy drops for a few minutes, returns to "normal" for a while, then starts to wane. More substantial food may take longer to kick in but offer a steadier energy level.
4. When you exhaust your preferred way of approaching "ride features" (wind, hills, pothole, etc) due to being really tired, you learn other ways of approaching the same thing. I used to climb seated most of the time after experimenting and finding I could hang on longer seated rather than standing. Towards the end of a grueling many-hour ride and desperately trying to hang on to my riding partner, I started standing and flicking the bike a bit side to side. I ended up waiting for my riding partner on the hills by the end of the ride.
5. You start doing things on autopilot when fatigued and it becomes second nature. Some are performance oriented (shifting smoothly, pedaling smoothly) and some are technically oriented (efficiently bunny hopping a pothole without cramping your legs doing it, recovering without thinking when front tire washes out on sand, avoiding that car swerving across your path, doing a trackstand at a light).
6. You notice the most minor position changes and how it affects your riding. Your newly found "great seat position" actually causes your crotch to go numb. Or that tilted down saddle (have you *ever* seen a pro with a tilted down saddle? Well there's a reason you haven't)... you wonder why your hands are so uncomfortable?
7. Eventually, if you allow yourself to learn from both your long rides as well as watching those more experienced than yourself, you develop a fluency on the bike unobtainable any other way. Other riders describe you as "smooth" or "fluent". Or simply "He's a good wheel to follow."
8. This learning ultimately has to be done outside on the road. Super efficient trainer (or roller) workouts only mean you are optimizing yourself for trainer or roller competition. Riding the mountain bike, while offering certain skill training, does not arm a rider for optimal road riding. Look at former World Champion mountain biker Michael Rasmussen. Have you ever seen a worse descender?
Riding outside is important since I spend most of my riding time indoors, even during the season. As soon as I go outside I experience all sorts of sore muscles as my bike becomes free to move around, I can do downhill tucks, throw the bike for imaginary lines, and corner like a madman.
Most experienced riders think of the above mentioned habits as second nature but for new riders, long rides go a long way towards forcing the rider to become smoother and more efficient. The winter is a great time to get riders used to new gear and work on this type of riding for all levels of riders.
So, although my longest race is probably 25 miles long (I normally don't do road races), my training rides in Jan and Feb sometimes extend to 4-5-6+ hours and many of them are at least 3 hours long. I seem to relearn a lot about cycling on those rides.
And in the middle of those rides, yes, I do sprint after the occasional car or truck.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Doping - Museeuw
It's hard to avoid this topic right now. It might be a bit premature though since nothing concrete's come out. First, Museeuw admitted to possibly doping for the last year of his career. It's strongly suggested but he never came out and said "I did take Aranesp" (one of the things he's accused of taking) or something similar to that. He did resign though, if that means anything.
Museeuw was actually banned for doping after he retired (I don't know if that was a first but it was certainly unusual). He was part of the Mapei team that seemed to roll over everyone at will, the team that also had a slew of various doping-related scandals until the main sponsor pulled the rug out from under the team. Its scandalous riders included Vandenbroucke (problem kid), Zanini (possession in the 2001 Giro), Garzelli (for the same stuff Delgado used in 1988), Bramati (2001 Giro raids), Bugno (the "I didn't order the stuff" excuse), Bartoli (and his soigneur Tizziano Morrasut who mailed the stuff to "Chez Bugno"), and even Abraham Olano (1994 positive for caffeine).
His old director sportif, Patrick Lefevere, has been accused of providing (and he's denied) of providing dope. He was quick to admit to using amphetamines (apparently the standard thing back then) but denied he had anything to do with an organized doping plan for whatever team he was directing. Tom Boonen piped up and basically said the same thing.
I started looking into the various doping stories to remind myself who tested positive when. The amount of information I found on positives is absolutely stunning. The problem is that there is no place to view the data easily and in a digestible way. I'll have to work on this so that you can see how deep the doping roots delve into pro cycling, how racers appear to "cross-pollinate" and start off other racers, and how they become directors to start the process all over. The same soigneurs and doctors show up over and over in connection with the doped up racers - coincidence is fine but it seems a bit suspicious.
For now, though, my pipe dream is as follows:
1. I have a dream that little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls and walk together as sisters and brothers.
Oh wait, that's MLK's dream.
Here's mine:
1. Museeuw goes to court, admits to using perhaps one or two substances. He is presented with SMS, cell phone, and especially bank records which shows a much more damning story. He breaks down and brings out corresponding notes or diaries or faxes detailing drug and dosage. He also names his suppliers, dope coaches (i.e. doctors who told him how to dope and how much to take without getting caught), co-dopers, etc.
Note - the bank records should be really damning since the money eventually goes from the doper to the doper's suppliers. Perhaps the government can go for these guys like they did Al Capone - for income tax evasion. As a weird bonus, the racers themselves would be entitled to a refund due to extra "business expenses" previously undeclared.
2. Implicated suppliers and dope coaches get called to the stand. Some information on how they acquire the stuff pops up. Their SMS, cell phone, and bank records are brought up. They also decide to turn state's evidence in view of the damning evidence in front of them. They name names, riders, etc.
3. The process snowballs. For a while all we read about each day is another 5 or 10 people indicted on doping charges.
4. A systematic weeding of the system occurs. From what I see, the organizations and teams that make up Division 1 pro cycling is a little boy's club with the same people playing in a very little, very private sandbox. They change their hats and shirts every now and then but it's the same people. The weeding would eliminate many of them - perhaps 1/3, maybe 2/3, maybe even more. Just a guess, I don't have hard numbers in my head. A lot of racers would be banned but the bans would be exchanged for testimony on suppliers and doping techniques. Many racers join lower level Continental teams as they serve out a ban from ProTour (or Division 1 team) bans.
5. A severely shelled out pro cycling world gathers itself up and races again. Average speeds drop 5 kph, there are no more 40 kph mountain climbs, and virtually every racer has bad days in races over a week long. If a racer gets stung by a bee, he can get an appropriate medical injection and race tomorrow. "Light" substances, no longer banned anyway, are all the racers use - pseudoephedrine, Advil, caffeine, etc. They learn how to corner since descending well requires no dope and they can't "buy" their way uphill anymore. They actually have spots on their skin from sun damage.
Pause to digest the dream a bit and tell a little tale.
During the unusually warm 2006 New England fall, I took the opportunity to weed some bushes in my front yard. One bush (I think it's an azalea), about 3 feet tall and 6 feet wide, had a couple vines in it and seemed ripe for weeding.
(Hint- the vines represent doping).
I was weeding vines by tracking them to the root, pulling out the root, and unraveling the vine from its unwilling host. I pulled out one vine, then another, and another. I'd find vines wound around other vines and then tracked the new vines down to the root This went on until I was digging out 1-1.5" thick vine trunks out of the ground.
I was amazed at how many vines I found. I spent about two hours weeding that one bush and ended up with a pile of twisted, ill looking vines on the ground. And a very thinned out bush that was literally 1/3 its original size.
Just like in Prey, the full looking bush had actually grown only due to its illicit guest, the vine. By removing the vine, I was able to allow the real plant to emerge. And though the true azalea is a bit sparse looking now, it's still a lot more pleasant to look at than a really tangled up, mutated looking vine-bush. In the spring it should fill out nicely and it will become a beautiful azalea in a few months.
Like the azalea, cleaning out pro-cycling, if possible, won't be pretty. But I think the end result will be something all us racers, riders, and fans will appreciate that much more.
That is my dream.
Museeuw was actually banned for doping after he retired (I don't know if that was a first but it was certainly unusual). He was part of the Mapei team that seemed to roll over everyone at will, the team that also had a slew of various doping-related scandals until the main sponsor pulled the rug out from under the team. Its scandalous riders included Vandenbroucke (problem kid), Zanini (possession in the 2001 Giro), Garzelli (for the same stuff Delgado used in 1988), Bramati (2001 Giro raids), Bugno (the "I didn't order the stuff" excuse), Bartoli (and his soigneur Tizziano Morrasut who mailed the stuff to "Chez Bugno"), and even Abraham Olano (1994 positive for caffeine).
His old director sportif, Patrick Lefevere, has been accused of providing (and he's denied) of providing dope. He was quick to admit to using amphetamines (apparently the standard thing back then) but denied he had anything to do with an organized doping plan for whatever team he was directing. Tom Boonen piped up and basically said the same thing.
I started looking into the various doping stories to remind myself who tested positive when. The amount of information I found on positives is absolutely stunning. The problem is that there is no place to view the data easily and in a digestible way. I'll have to work on this so that you can see how deep the doping roots delve into pro cycling, how racers appear to "cross-pollinate" and start off other racers, and how they become directors to start the process all over. The same soigneurs and doctors show up over and over in connection with the doped up racers - coincidence is fine but it seems a bit suspicious.
For now, though, my pipe dream is as follows:
1. I have a dream that little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls and walk together as sisters and brothers.
Oh wait, that's MLK's dream.
Here's mine:
1. Museeuw goes to court, admits to using perhaps one or two substances. He is presented with SMS, cell phone, and especially bank records which shows a much more damning story. He breaks down and brings out corresponding notes or diaries or faxes detailing drug and dosage. He also names his suppliers, dope coaches (i.e. doctors who told him how to dope and how much to take without getting caught), co-dopers, etc.
Note - the bank records should be really damning since the money eventually goes from the doper to the doper's suppliers. Perhaps the government can go for these guys like they did Al Capone - for income tax evasion. As a weird bonus, the racers themselves would be entitled to a refund due to extra "business expenses" previously undeclared.
2. Implicated suppliers and dope coaches get called to the stand. Some information on how they acquire the stuff pops up. Their SMS, cell phone, and bank records are brought up. They also decide to turn state's evidence in view of the damning evidence in front of them. They name names, riders, etc.
3. The process snowballs. For a while all we read about each day is another 5 or 10 people indicted on doping charges.
4. A systematic weeding of the system occurs. From what I see, the organizations and teams that make up Division 1 pro cycling is a little boy's club with the same people playing in a very little, very private sandbox. They change their hats and shirts every now and then but it's the same people. The weeding would eliminate many of them - perhaps 1/3, maybe 2/3, maybe even more. Just a guess, I don't have hard numbers in my head. A lot of racers would be banned but the bans would be exchanged for testimony on suppliers and doping techniques. Many racers join lower level Continental teams as they serve out a ban from ProTour (or Division 1 team) bans.
5. A severely shelled out pro cycling world gathers itself up and races again. Average speeds drop 5 kph, there are no more 40 kph mountain climbs, and virtually every racer has bad days in races over a week long. If a racer gets stung by a bee, he can get an appropriate medical injection and race tomorrow. "Light" substances, no longer banned anyway, are all the racers use - pseudoephedrine, Advil, caffeine, etc. They learn how to corner since descending well requires no dope and they can't "buy" their way uphill anymore. They actually have spots on their skin from sun damage.
Pause to digest the dream a bit and tell a little tale.
During the unusually warm 2006 New England fall, I took the opportunity to weed some bushes in my front yard. One bush (I think it's an azalea), about 3 feet tall and 6 feet wide, had a couple vines in it and seemed ripe for weeding.
(Hint- the vines represent doping).
I was weeding vines by tracking them to the root, pulling out the root, and unraveling the vine from its unwilling host. I pulled out one vine, then another, and another. I'd find vines wound around other vines and then tracked the new vines down to the root This went on until I was digging out 1-1.5" thick vine trunks out of the ground.
I was amazed at how many vines I found. I spent about two hours weeding that one bush and ended up with a pile of twisted, ill looking vines on the ground. And a very thinned out bush that was literally 1/3 its original size.
Just like in Prey, the full looking bush had actually grown only due to its illicit guest, the vine. By removing the vine, I was able to allow the real plant to emerge. And though the true azalea is a bit sparse looking now, it's still a lot more pleasant to look at than a really tangled up, mutated looking vine-bush. In the spring it should fill out nicely and it will become a beautiful azalea in a few months.
Like the azalea, cleaning out pro-cycling, if possible, won't be pretty. But I think the end result will be something all us racers, riders, and fans will appreciate that much more.
That is my dream.
Monday, January 22, 2007
Being Zabel
A guy you can't help but root for is Eric Zabel. I wanted him to win a stage here and there in 2006, maybe the Worlds. It would let him retire and save me from feeling bad for him when he gets demolished in various sprints during the various big Tours. He's a very good sprinter but something seems to be lacking in the last few years.
I was watching my 2003 Tour DVDs (and Hollentour, which covers TMobile during that Tour), and like usual was watching the flat stages. The ones ending in field sprints hold particular fascination for me. I noticed in one stage that Zabel made some huge efforts in the wind with a kilo or so to go, trying to move into position. You can't do that and win unless you're a crushingly dominant sprinter.
After watching about five stages like that, I realized it wasn't a fluke. Zabel would enter the last couple kilometers too far back, use up a lot of his snap moving up the last four of five spots, sit in the wind next to his rivals in order to "stay near the front", and then get killed when everyone actually went for it.
Ten years after his peak, he's definitely not a crushingly dominant sprinter. So he has to get more clever. If he was a little more conservative with his energy expenditures, stayed out of the wind a little more, I think he'd have had a little more success in the sprints. He never won, but he didn't lose by much - a foot here, a couple feet there. All margins which could be attributed to a minor error in the last 1500 meters. He certainly had the legs to make the finishes so close. He just needs to get over that last hump so that he's the one a couple feet up.
I guess one factor, after watching Hollentour, is that he only had one guy helping him out - his roommate Rolf Aldag. As strong as Aldag is, after attacking, chasing, and pulling all day long, Aldag can't be expected to be a 100% leadout guy. It's asking too much from one racer.
Unfortunately for him in the various Tour sprints, to win everything has to come together. For Zabel, it would be a combination of factors.
First, he is a relatively strong racer who has reserves when other (faster) sprinters are done. So the race has to be long and hard - like Worlds. Hilly enough to burn off the sprinters but not so hilly that Zabel himself comes off. A friend of mine once told me "I can't sprint with the best guys but if I get over the hills with the climbers... well they just can't sprint. I'm like Cipollini compared to them."
Second, Zabel doesn't have the top speed that the other sprinters have. So he needs a finish that dulls that top end speed - maybe a slight uphill or a bumpy surface. Jaan Kirsipuu was like this at the end of his career, and he pulled out an amazing win in a slow motion sprint which played to his current strengths - a powerful but no longer blazing fast sprinter. Kirsipuu stated that the finish was perfect for him - slightly uphill, a bit of a headwind, one made for power sprinters, not the fastest ones. He even led out his teammate Jean Patrick Nazon who ended up finishing behind him. (In a later sprint, Kirispuu did a proper lead out and his Nazon won).
Third, Zabel needs a long sprint - his strength is not in popping out at 50 meters to go. He uses his relative fitness to go from a long way out. Tailwinds are the best for these sprinters as such a wind diminishes the importance of the jump.
Fourth, he needs at least one solid leadout man (if not two or three). Based on his type of sprint, it would be best if the leadout man was similar - a racer good at long leadouts, sustaining an incredible speed, and peeling off at 200-250 meters to go. None of this "in the wind" business. A related thing - he has to ride a bit scared of the wind. Yes, he's fit. But that doesn't give you wind leeway. You still have to hide from it - and in the end, your sprint will be that much better.
Finally, he needs plain luck. A good day, no nagging injuries, feeling pretty fresh at 10k to go, and no weird oil slicks or whatnot to slow him up.
It sounds like a lot of factors. But it really isn't. When you think like a sprinter, you think of the days made just for you and you try and max them out. If it all comes together just one day in the Tour, he'll be regarded once again as a top sprinter. And if he does it at Worlds? I think he'd count his blessings, do a couple post-Worlds crits, and climb off the bike.
I hope he can make it happen. For his sake. And all us aging sprinters out there.
I was watching my 2003 Tour DVDs (and Hollentour, which covers TMobile during that Tour), and like usual was watching the flat stages. The ones ending in field sprints hold particular fascination for me. I noticed in one stage that Zabel made some huge efforts in the wind with a kilo or so to go, trying to move into position. You can't do that and win unless you're a crushingly dominant sprinter.
After watching about five stages like that, I realized it wasn't a fluke. Zabel would enter the last couple kilometers too far back, use up a lot of his snap moving up the last four of five spots, sit in the wind next to his rivals in order to "stay near the front", and then get killed when everyone actually went for it.
Ten years after his peak, he's definitely not a crushingly dominant sprinter. So he has to get more clever. If he was a little more conservative with his energy expenditures, stayed out of the wind a little more, I think he'd have had a little more success in the sprints. He never won, but he didn't lose by much - a foot here, a couple feet there. All margins which could be attributed to a minor error in the last 1500 meters. He certainly had the legs to make the finishes so close. He just needs to get over that last hump so that he's the one a couple feet up.
I guess one factor, after watching Hollentour, is that he only had one guy helping him out - his roommate Rolf Aldag. As strong as Aldag is, after attacking, chasing, and pulling all day long, Aldag can't be expected to be a 100% leadout guy. It's asking too much from one racer.
Unfortunately for him in the various Tour sprints, to win everything has to come together. For Zabel, it would be a combination of factors.
First, he is a relatively strong racer who has reserves when other (faster) sprinters are done. So the race has to be long and hard - like Worlds. Hilly enough to burn off the sprinters but not so hilly that Zabel himself comes off. A friend of mine once told me "I can't sprint with the best guys but if I get over the hills with the climbers... well they just can't sprint. I'm like Cipollini compared to them."
Second, Zabel doesn't have the top speed that the other sprinters have. So he needs a finish that dulls that top end speed - maybe a slight uphill or a bumpy surface. Jaan Kirsipuu was like this at the end of his career, and he pulled out an amazing win in a slow motion sprint which played to his current strengths - a powerful but no longer blazing fast sprinter. Kirsipuu stated that the finish was perfect for him - slightly uphill, a bit of a headwind, one made for power sprinters, not the fastest ones. He even led out his teammate Jean Patrick Nazon who ended up finishing behind him. (In a later sprint, Kirispuu did a proper lead out and his Nazon won).
Third, Zabel needs a long sprint - his strength is not in popping out at 50 meters to go. He uses his relative fitness to go from a long way out. Tailwinds are the best for these sprinters as such a wind diminishes the importance of the jump.
Fourth, he needs at least one solid leadout man (if not two or three). Based on his type of sprint, it would be best if the leadout man was similar - a racer good at long leadouts, sustaining an incredible speed, and peeling off at 200-250 meters to go. None of this "in the wind" business. A related thing - he has to ride a bit scared of the wind. Yes, he's fit. But that doesn't give you wind leeway. You still have to hide from it - and in the end, your sprint will be that much better.
Finally, he needs plain luck. A good day, no nagging injuries, feeling pretty fresh at 10k to go, and no weird oil slicks or whatnot to slow him up.
It sounds like a lot of factors. But it really isn't. When you think like a sprinter, you think of the days made just for you and you try and max them out. If it all comes together just one day in the Tour, he'll be regarded once again as a top sprinter. And if he does it at Worlds? I think he'd count his blessings, do a couple post-Worlds crits, and climb off the bike.
I hope he can make it happen. For his sake. And all us aging sprinters out there.
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Doping - Asthma, Actovegin, Acqua & Sapone
It's a ridiculous rule, especially when someone like Vaughters, when he got stung by a bee, really did need medication - and he couldn't get it because the cortisone necessary was banned under racing rules. What happened to that "
Don't tell me they couldn't bend a rule or two. The Tour organizers regularly extend the cutoff time to allow racers outside the limit to stay in the race - 2006 would have been a joke after Rasmussen's solo win as only 60-odd racers made the cutoff. So with the only bee-sting in the last 20 or so years, it would seem reasonable to let the guy get a shot to allow him to continue.
Whatever. After Vaughters withdrew and got the cortisone shot, the swelling went down instantly. And it's not like he went looking for the bee to sting him to cover up some cortisone use, right?
Now you take someone like Perreiro - a perfectly healthy young man who has "mild asthma", takes a performance enhancing drug to "relieve" it, and that's okay? There's something wrong with this picture.
Actually even WADA agrees. For 2007 they are doing away with some of these doping loopholes.
In the bootlegged LA Confidential I got off the net, there is a mention of the USPS's TUE list.
In 2000, USPS listed, on their TUE medication list, 684 boxes of product containing 7,422 capsules, pills, injectables, vials, and tubes. In 2001, it was 8,334 units. If everyone on the team (directors, soigneurs, mechanics, etc.) partook equally, they'd have been taking about 12 medications per day in 2000; over 13 per day in 2001. If it was just the 9 cyclists, the number would jump to 39 medications per day in 2000, and an incredible 44 medications per day in 2001. Although you might expect this to be normal, USPS listed about twice as many medicines as the next highest team, and about four times most of the other teams.
One of the drugs not listed was Actovegin.
However, a team doctor in 2000 listed Actovegin (at that time not specifically banned) on an import/customs type form dated May 8, 2000. He was bringing in 40 doses of it as well as 125 other products. Armstrong stated that neither he nor his doctors had ever heard of "activo-whatever-it's-called" on December, 13, 2000, about 7 months after the doctor submitted the forms. The calf blood extract used to decrease hematocrit, increase the amount of glucose, and is typically used in conjunction with EPO to boost the oxygen carrying capacity of a rider's blood without drastically increasing the hematocrit level. It is normally used instead of aspirin to thin out blood and prevent potentially fatal blood clots.
It was banned shortly thereafter.
In 2001, the French government turned down the USPS team's request to import Actovegin.
Eventually, USPS admitted that, yes, they did bring in Actovegin. The reason USPS carried it? Their mechanic Julien De Vriese's "diabetes". He was present only for the three time trials. This means he took 40 doses in 3 to 6 day. Does this make sense?
Curiously enough Actovegin is not used to treat diabetes.
In other news, Acqua & Sapone is vying for the honor of being the team signing the most well-known dopers next to Tinkov. A&S has the distinction of signing a disgrace to racing, Freddy Maertens, who undid years of incredible riding by taking money and staging a waste of a "comeback" in the 80's. It was a total joke - he rode poorly and climbed off the bike about as quickly as Cipo in the mountains - but Maertens did it every time he raced. The journalists made fun of his synthetic tan - and it appeared he did indeed spend more time tanning than cycling. His fall from grace was reminiscent of the one by Nigel Mansell, also a spectacular star (in Formula 1) that didn't know when to stop - the fact he no longer fit inside the 1995 McLarens should have been a big hint.
Anyway, A&S have racer Stephan Garzelli, the guy who got booted from the Giro for testing positive for masking agents.
They also signed the first guy ever to help his dog dope, the guy with a pitiful capacity for life's hardships, the shotgun waving Tom Boonen impersonator. I mean, what the heck was he thinking? Oh, I forgot, he doesn't think. The one and only
Let's see how many races he doesn't show up for before he has some crisis. If I ever saw a guy who needed to join the military to toughen up a bit, this is the one. A stint in the dark green uniforms (sorry the English version isn't up) and he'd think nothing of actually getting out of bed and driving to a race with his bike and gear.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Cellphones and cycling
So in NJ, they decided that, although 25% of their bicycle accidents involve alcohol yet it's not illegal to ride while drunk, it should be illegal to ride while using a cell phone.
Hands free devices excepted of course.
They must have inhaled too much of those fumes floating around the Jersey shore.
I don't know about you but have you ever tried to talk on the phone while riding? I have. It inevitably ends up with me pulling over, putting a foot down, and saying, "What did you just say?"
Forget about whether or not you have enough aerobic capacity to even talk. Trying to listen in a 25-30 mph wind tunnel is not easy.
This is what I do when I go for a long ride:
1. Big phone that has a lot of battery power
2. Hands free ear thing
3. Set auto answer on
4. (Optional) turn on music at low volume
You're riding along, you get a call, and after a few rings it picks up. Presto!
One time I even got upgraded to First Class because I had my setup in place. They called and asked if I'd mind flying 15 minutes earlier but in First Class. I was waiting for the punchline but it never came. So I accepted.
The thing is, until you stop seeing everyone driving around talking on the phone (sans hands free kit), you're not going to make anyone thing it's better to use hands free kits.
Introducing legislation to increase the number of laws not enforced doesn't do anyone any good.
I suppose that if they don't enforce driving while jabbering on the phone without a hands free kit, they probably won't enforce the cycling bit either.
I wonder if they consider, say, running red lights to be dangerous. Based on the driving I see when I leave the office parking lot, I get the impression that this is not the case.
At least one legislator had something to say. "As my father used to tell me, 'You can't legislate common sense,' and that's exactly what this bill tries to do, as the Legislature has already tried to do on so many other occasions,'' said Assemblyman Richard Merkt, R-Morris.
Well put.
Hands free devices excepted of course.
They must have inhaled too much of those fumes floating around the Jersey shore.
I don't know about you but have you ever tried to talk on the phone while riding? I have. It inevitably ends up with me pulling over, putting a foot down, and saying, "What did you just say?"
Forget about whether or not you have enough aerobic capacity to even talk. Trying to listen in a 25-30 mph wind tunnel is not easy.
This is what I do when I go for a long ride:
1. Big phone that has a lot of battery power
2. Hands free ear thing
3. Set auto answer on
4. (Optional) turn on music at low volume
You're riding along, you get a call, and after a few rings it picks up. Presto!
One time I even got upgraded to First Class because I had my setup in place. They called and asked if I'd mind flying 15 minutes earlier but in First Class. I was waiting for the punchline but it never came. So I accepted.
The thing is, until you stop seeing everyone driving around talking on the phone (sans hands free kit), you're not going to make anyone thing it's better to use hands free kits.
Introducing legislation to increase the number of laws not enforced doesn't do anyone any good.
I suppose that if they don't enforce driving while jabbering on the phone without a hands free kit, they probably won't enforce the cycling bit either.
I wonder if they consider, say, running red lights to be dangerous. Based on the driving I see when I leave the office parking lot, I get the impression that this is not the case.
At least one legislator had something to say. "As my father used to tell me, 'You can't legislate common sense,' and that's exactly what this bill tries to do, as the Legislature has already tried to do on so many other occasions,'' said Assemblyman Richard Merkt, R-Morris.
Well put.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
How To - changing a tube/tire
In Florida, on the first ride we did, I flatted riding on some glass. Although you should avoid sand, glass, rocks, etc., if possible, sometimes you have to ride over it, and that sometimes causes a flat. In my case, I was trying to be careful on a narrow shouldered road with cars passing at 50-60 mph and ended up riding for a while on debris on the side of the road.
Although inconvenient, the flat was not a ride-breaker because I had a tube, pump, and I knew how to change a tube. You might think that knowing how to change a tube is common knowledge but I've watched Cat 1's struggle for many minutes with a tube so it's not necessarily true.
You should virtually never flat bottoming out an uninflated tire (also called a pinch flat) - that is simply a reflection on poor bicycle maintenance. I check my tire pressure every time I ride. To balance riding comfort and pinch-flat resistance, I pump my tires to 110-120 psi (front lower than the rear). A vicious impact on your tire/wheel will cause a pinch flat but there is a technique I'll describe later that will enable you to avoid even those types of flats.
Tires, even relatively light ones, will last thousands of miles in the rear. Front tires last so long it's a good idea to rotate them to the rear so you wear them out. Tubes should never puncture.
Changing a flat actually starts with installing the tire properly. When you first install the tire, make sure you have a good rim strip (covers the spoke heads and protects the valve from the edges of the hole drilled in the rim), the right length valve (longer for deep rims), and a clean tire. It's a waste of time and money to flat because your rimstrip was insufficient or the valve ripped off the tube due to the rim edge digging into the valve base.
Note: electrical tape is NOT a viable rim strip. Go to the shop and buy a few and keep at least one or two spares in your gear bag. Inevitably one of your less educated cyclists will complain about puncturing every 5 miles, and when pressed, will admit to using some substandard material for a rim strip. Your spare rim strip will be a ride or race saver.
Line up the valve to the label on the tire and install it so that the label is on the right side of the rim (the drivetrain side of the bike). Pretend a photographer is taking a picture of your bike and that you want your tire sponsor to be visible. It might actually be true! Even if it's not, the label/valve position makes it easier to troubleshoot if you do have a flat. If there is no label, line up the pressure rating to the valve - this way you don't have to look around the tire to see if it's rated to 120 psi or 240 psi.
(Note: there is a "cheat sheet" summary at the bottom but it skips a lot of details)
1. If you do have a flat, stop off any busy road - a driveway, a side road, the sidewalk, etc. There is no reason for you to be replacing a tube in the middle of a busy road.
2. Next, remove the tire and tube using a tire lever or three. If the tire is very tight, insert one tire lever under the bead, then about 2-3" away insert another one. Move another 2-3" and insert a third one. The second one will fall out. Put it in 2-3" past the last lever and repeat until you can remove the tire and tube.
Note: ALWAYS start opposite the valve and finish at the valve.
3. If you've lined up the label and valve, remove the tube from the tire. If you haven't, hold the valve in place of the tire by pinching the tire sidewalls with your fingers. This is so you can track the puncture and check the tire in the puncture vicinity.
4. If there is an obvious cause of a flat (nail sticking out of the tire, etc.) skip this step. Otherwise, inflate the tube a bit and listen for escaping air. If it's escaping too quick to pinpoint the location of the hole, fold the tube in half around the suspected area (one fold on each side). This will allow air pressure to build up around the rest of the tube. You can move the folds closer together until you pinpoint the puncture. If you've held the tire in place, you can check the tire. Too many times there will be a piece of glass or something in the tire. If left alone, it will puncture your new tube right away.
5. Verify there aren't other punctures. Nothing would be worse than to replace the tube thinking the big nail sticking out of the tire was the only thing that caused the flat only to find a piece of glass elsewhere also punctured the old tube... as well as your new one.
6. Pump up the tire until it is holding its shape. Do not let it stretch. On a floor pump, it would be one or two strokes. For a mini-pump, maybe 3-6 strokes. You want it to fit inside the tire with no problems but you do not want it to "grow" so it doesn't fit in the tire anymore.
7. Line up the valve and the label as described above.
8. Insert the valve and seat the bead on the first side of the tire. For the sake of this tutorial, I'll say the left bead first, if looking at the wheel from behind. The left bead would be mounted from the right side of the rim. If necessary, use tire levers to pop on the bead, being careful not to pinch the tube. This is the only time you should use the levers.
Note: ALWAYS start at the valve and finish opposite the valve when mounting a tire (the opposite of removing the tire).
9. After getting the left bead on the rim, push the tube into the tire so it sits inside the "U" of the rim. Again, start at the valve and finish opposite it.
10. Now your tire should look almost mounted from the left side. The right side is still hanging outside the rim. Pull the bead onto the rim at the valve and about 8-12" on either side of the valve. Push the valve in and push the tire down so both beads seat solidly on the rim.
11. Pull the bead onto the rim from the left side, using your four fingers. Don't use your thumbs and try and push the bead on - it's a lot harder. You'll probably have to push the tube in place every now and then as it has a tendency to pop outside of the rim. It's absolutely critical that you keep the tube inside the rim.
12. At the opposite end of the valve, when you have about 6" of bead left, hold one hand (say your right hand) with your fingers anchoring the bit already on the rim and using your other hand (left) immediately next to the right hand to pull the bead over the rim. It takes effort, especially on new tires, but you should be able to pull the bead onto the rim without using tire levers.
13. After the bead is all the way on, pinch the tire on both sides so you can see the rim strip under it. You should not see the tube at all - if you do, you'll need to carefully push it under and past the bead. If you do not, you are assuring yourself a spectacular blowout with immediate pressure failure at some point in the future.
14. Now you're ready to inflate the tire. Do one final push on the valve (push it up into the rim, not all the way, push the tire into the rim, then pull the valve back out) and inflate the tire.
15. DO NOT use the little threaded nut to "hold" the valve in place. It is sometimes useful to hold the valve high enough if the valve is a bit short, but if you use it that way, remove it as soon as the valve has enough pressure in it to mount the tube without it.
The main reason you should not use the threaded nut is that it hides a sliding tube. When you ride an under inflated tire, the tire and tube will slip along the rim. A great early warning indicator is the valve starts to tilt relative to the rim. If this happens, you need to move the tire/tube unit around the rim until the valve is perpendicular.
If you use the threaded nut, the valve remains perpendicular even though the tire and tube are slowly rotating around the rim. You only learn about it when the valve rips right off the tube. Using the threaded nut is like disabling your car's warning lights - you never see the oil pressure light go on and only learn you're low on oil pressure when your engine seizes. Not good.
Let's review (this can serve as your cheat sheet):
1. Always remove opposite the valve, and always finish opposite the valve.
2. Line up label with valve. If no label, line up PSI rating with valve. If one label, put on right side of wheel.
3. Pre-inflate tube till it just holds its shape and insert into tire before mounting tire.
4. Put one bead on, then the tube, then pull the other bead on.
5. DO NOT use tire levers for the second bead (i.e. to finish the tire)
6. Before inflating, push valve stem a bit into the rim and allow the bead to seat around it.
7. DO NOT use the little valve stem locknut.
8. Before every ride, check tire pressure.
If your labels are not lined up with your valves or you have never changed a tire before, you should try it in the luxury of your home. It certainly beats figuring it out while the sun is setting, you're freezing cold (or bonking or whatever), and generally miserable.
Congrats, you're all done now.
If requested I'll post a vid on this.
Although inconvenient, the flat was not a ride-breaker because I had a tube, pump, and I knew how to change a tube. You might think that knowing how to change a tube is common knowledge but I've watched Cat 1's struggle for many minutes with a tube so it's not necessarily true.
You should virtually never flat bottoming out an uninflated tire (also called a pinch flat) - that is simply a reflection on poor bicycle maintenance. I check my tire pressure every time I ride. To balance riding comfort and pinch-flat resistance, I pump my tires to 110-120 psi (front lower than the rear). A vicious impact on your tire/wheel will cause a pinch flat but there is a technique I'll describe later that will enable you to avoid even those types of flats.
Tires, even relatively light ones, will last thousands of miles in the rear. Front tires last so long it's a good idea to rotate them to the rear so you wear them out. Tubes should never puncture.
Changing a flat actually starts with installing the tire properly. When you first install the tire, make sure you have a good rim strip (covers the spoke heads and protects the valve from the edges of the hole drilled in the rim), the right length valve (longer for deep rims), and a clean tire. It's a waste of time and money to flat because your rimstrip was insufficient or the valve ripped off the tube due to the rim edge digging into the valve base.
Note: electrical tape is NOT a viable rim strip. Go to the shop and buy a few and keep at least one or two spares in your gear bag. Inevitably one of your less educated cyclists will complain about puncturing every 5 miles, and when pressed, will admit to using some substandard material for a rim strip. Your spare rim strip will be a ride or race saver.
Line up the valve to the label on the tire and install it so that the label is on the right side of the rim (the drivetrain side of the bike). Pretend a photographer is taking a picture of your bike and that you want your tire sponsor to be visible. It might actually be true! Even if it's not, the label/valve position makes it easier to troubleshoot if you do have a flat. If there is no label, line up the pressure rating to the valve - this way you don't have to look around the tire to see if it's rated to 120 psi or 240 psi.
(Note: there is a "cheat sheet" summary at the bottom but it skips a lot of details)
1. If you do have a flat, stop off any busy road - a driveway, a side road, the sidewalk, etc. There is no reason for you to be replacing a tube in the middle of a busy road.
2. Next, remove the tire and tube using a tire lever or three. If the tire is very tight, insert one tire lever under the bead, then about 2-3" away insert another one. Move another 2-3" and insert a third one. The second one will fall out. Put it in 2-3" past the last lever and repeat until you can remove the tire and tube.
Note: ALWAYS start opposite the valve and finish at the valve.
3. If you've lined up the label and valve, remove the tube from the tire. If you haven't, hold the valve in place of the tire by pinching the tire sidewalls with your fingers. This is so you can track the puncture and check the tire in the puncture vicinity.
4. If there is an obvious cause of a flat (nail sticking out of the tire, etc.) skip this step. Otherwise, inflate the tube a bit and listen for escaping air. If it's escaping too quick to pinpoint the location of the hole, fold the tube in half around the suspected area (one fold on each side). This will allow air pressure to build up around the rest of the tube. You can move the folds closer together until you pinpoint the puncture. If you've held the tire in place, you can check the tire. Too many times there will be a piece of glass or something in the tire. If left alone, it will puncture your new tube right away.
5. Verify there aren't other punctures. Nothing would be worse than to replace the tube thinking the big nail sticking out of the tire was the only thing that caused the flat only to find a piece of glass elsewhere also punctured the old tube... as well as your new one.
6. Pump up the tire until it is holding its shape. Do not let it stretch. On a floor pump, it would be one or two strokes. For a mini-pump, maybe 3-6 strokes. You want it to fit inside the tire with no problems but you do not want it to "grow" so it doesn't fit in the tire anymore.
7. Line up the valve and the label as described above.
8. Insert the valve and seat the bead on the first side of the tire. For the sake of this tutorial, I'll say the left bead first, if looking at the wheel from behind. The left bead would be mounted from the right side of the rim. If necessary, use tire levers to pop on the bead, being careful not to pinch the tube. This is the only time you should use the levers.
Note: ALWAYS start at the valve and finish opposite the valve when mounting a tire (the opposite of removing the tire).
9. After getting the left bead on the rim, push the tube into the tire so it sits inside the "U" of the rim. Again, start at the valve and finish opposite it.
10. Now your tire should look almost mounted from the left side. The right side is still hanging outside the rim. Pull the bead onto the rim at the valve and about 8-12" on either side of the valve. Push the valve in and push the tire down so both beads seat solidly on the rim.
11. Pull the bead onto the rim from the left side, using your four fingers. Don't use your thumbs and try and push the bead on - it's a lot harder. You'll probably have to push the tube in place every now and then as it has a tendency to pop outside of the rim. It's absolutely critical that you keep the tube inside the rim.
12. At the opposite end of the valve, when you have about 6" of bead left, hold one hand (say your right hand) with your fingers anchoring the bit already on the rim and using your other hand (left) immediately next to the right hand to pull the bead over the rim. It takes effort, especially on new tires, but you should be able to pull the bead onto the rim without using tire levers.
13. After the bead is all the way on, pinch the tire on both sides so you can see the rim strip under it. You should not see the tube at all - if you do, you'll need to carefully push it under and past the bead. If you do not, you are assuring yourself a spectacular blowout with immediate pressure failure at some point in the future.
14. Now you're ready to inflate the tire. Do one final push on the valve (push it up into the rim, not all the way, push the tire into the rim, then pull the valve back out) and inflate the tire.
15. DO NOT use the little threaded nut to "hold" the valve in place. It is sometimes useful to hold the valve high enough if the valve is a bit short, but if you use it that way, remove it as soon as the valve has enough pressure in it to mount the tube without it.
The main reason you should not use the threaded nut is that it hides a sliding tube. When you ride an under inflated tire, the tire and tube will slip along the rim. A great early warning indicator is the valve starts to tilt relative to the rim. If this happens, you need to move the tire/tube unit around the rim until the valve is perpendicular.
If you use the threaded nut, the valve remains perpendicular even though the tire and tube are slowly rotating around the rim. You only learn about it when the valve rips right off the tube. Using the threaded nut is like disabling your car's warning lights - you never see the oil pressure light go on and only learn you're low on oil pressure when your engine seizes. Not good.
Let's review (this can serve as your cheat sheet):
1. Always remove opposite the valve, and always finish opposite the valve.
2. Line up label with valve. If no label, line up PSI rating with valve. If one label, put on right side of wheel.
3. Pre-inflate tube till it just holds its shape and insert into tire before mounting tire.
4. Put one bead on, then the tube, then pull the other bead on.
5. DO NOT use tire levers for the second bead (i.e. to finish the tire)
6. Before inflating, push valve stem a bit into the rim and allow the bead to seat around it.
7. DO NOT use the little valve stem locknut.
8. Before every ride, check tire pressure.
If your labels are not lined up with your valves or you have never changed a tire before, you should try it in the luxury of your home. It certainly beats figuring it out while the sun is setting, you're freezing cold (or bonking or whatever), and generally miserable.
Congrats, you're all done now.
If requested I'll post a vid on this.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
What kind of bike is that?
So Boonen really is being pushed towards being another Cipo with this Northwave ad. It's kind of like seeing a girl in a miniskirt except it's a guy, he's wearing armor, and holding a white bike shoe. He does have a very lost look about him. I don't know if they wanted him to do that or if that was the end result of people running around making him put on miniskirt armor, fluffing his hair a bit, and sticking a bright white shoe in his hands.
But I digress.
Yesterday at the airport I was lugging my bike, gear bag, and a regular rolling box bag around. When you do this, inevitably people point at you and make some comment, "oh I think he has a bike." or something like that.
I was checking in my bike ($65 extra) and the woman next to me leaned over to me.
"What kind of bike is that?"
Okay, I was a little tired, sleepy, but I looked at her with a blank face. How do you answer a question like that? It's so open-ended - she could have been a pro-cyclist or a totally clueless person. The bag itself says "BIKE" on it so it's pretty clear what's inside.
I could have answered, "It's a 10 speed." For the uninitiated, that means "road bike". For the initiated, it's a reasonably new bike that has a 10s rear wheel.
I could say "It's a road bike." I don't think that helps a lot of the uninitiated. I'd probably get a blank look, in which case I'd add, "You know, like Lance Armstrong." But then I'd have to explain that I don't ride like him. Gaunt face, aggressive pedaling, sort of a haunted look about him.
I could also be really technical about it and try and overwhelm the poor woman and make her think all cyclists are techno-snobs. "It's a Giant TCR with a mix of Campy Chorus and Record parts, FIR rims, Ritchey stem, a titanium seat, and Mavic bars."
But that wouldn't be good for cycling.
So I tried to take a safe route.
"The manufacturer name is Giant. I don't know if that helps."
"Oh, I have a Bianchi."
This is better.
"Oh, you're a cyclist. So you understand. It's a carbon Giant with Campy on it."
"Oh that's nice. You must have had good weather here."
And so on. A brief passing of two cyclists, then she left.
I was so tired I fell asleep while we were still at the gate. I kept popping awake when I felt movement as I love taking off (and landing). It's like driving or riding. Corners are fun. A long, straight road that stretches to the horizon? Not fun. Anyway each time I woke up with a start, the same grey pavement greeted my eyes.
After a few of these "starts" I looked around the cabin. People get upset when planes get delayed. Everyone looked calm though. I looked back outside.
The grey "pavement" was in fact clouds.
I looked at my watch. We'd taken off over an hour earlier.
I leaned my head back against the bulkhead and went back to sleep.
But I digress.
Yesterday at the airport I was lugging my bike, gear bag, and a regular rolling box bag around. When you do this, inevitably people point at you and make some comment, "oh I think he has a bike." or something like that.
I was checking in my bike ($65 extra) and the woman next to me leaned over to me.
"What kind of bike is that?"
Okay, I was a little tired, sleepy, but I looked at her with a blank face. How do you answer a question like that? It's so open-ended - she could have been a pro-cyclist or a totally clueless person. The bag itself says "BIKE" on it so it's pretty clear what's inside.
I could have answered, "It's a 10 speed." For the uninitiated, that means "road bike". For the initiated, it's a reasonably new bike that has a 10s rear wheel.
I could say "It's a road bike." I don't think that helps a lot of the uninitiated. I'd probably get a blank look, in which case I'd add, "You know, like Lance Armstrong." But then I'd have to explain that I don't ride like him. Gaunt face, aggressive pedaling, sort of a haunted look about him.
I could also be really technical about it and try and overwhelm the poor woman and make her think all cyclists are techno-snobs. "It's a Giant TCR with a mix of Campy Chorus and Record parts, FIR rims, Ritchey stem, a titanium seat, and Mavic bars."
But that wouldn't be good for cycling.
So I tried to take a safe route.
"The manufacturer name is Giant. I don't know if that helps."
"Oh, I have a Bianchi."
This is better.
"Oh, you're a cyclist. So you understand. It's a carbon Giant with Campy on it."
"Oh that's nice. You must have had good weather here."
And so on. A brief passing of two cyclists, then she left.
I was so tired I fell asleep while we were still at the gate. I kept popping awake when I felt movement as I love taking off (and landing). It's like driving or riding. Corners are fun. A long, straight road that stretches to the horizon? Not fun. Anyway each time I woke up with a start, the same grey pavement greeted my eyes.
After a few of these "starts" I looked around the cabin. People get upset when planes get delayed. Everyone looked calm though. I looked back outside.
The grey "pavement" was in fact clouds.
I looked at my watch. We'd taken off over an hour earlier.
I leaned my head back against the bulkhead and went back to sleep.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
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.
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.
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