So we're back.
I'll have more to report once I'm feeling up to it. To summarize - we got married, we had our reception, and we went on our honeymoon. All those things went really well.
Except that I'm sick.
Luckily the symptoms manifested themselves on the trip back so our honeymoon wasn't affected.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Saturday, October 06, 2007
Life - Wedding and Stuff
So the wedding is imminent (90 minutes away). Although we'll be stateside the night following, we'll be gone for the duration of the following week.
It's been a great couple days with lots of memorable moments but the fact that I've been busy hanging out with various friends and family means that computer time dropped to nil.
And although I'd love to drag all of you around virtually, that's probably not a great way to spend a honeymoon.
So, with that in mind, I'll be signing off until, at the earliest, Oct 15th.
It's been a great couple days with lots of memorable moments but the fact that I've been busy hanging out with various friends and family means that computer time dropped to nil.
And although I'd love to drag all of you around virtually, that's probably not a great way to spend a honeymoon.
So, with that in mind, I'll be signing off until, at the earliest, Oct 15th.
Monday, October 01, 2007
Life - Dope Testing
So today I went to a local lab to get blood and urine samples taken for an upcoming physical. Although there's no particular reason for the physical (other than to get an "good job" from the doctor), I've been more aware of testing procedures recently.
First off, I hate needles.
The nurse at the lab took no pity. Normally I request (and they'll use) a pediatric needle - a needle for little kids. They're so small you can barely see them (one nurse showed me the difference). But this one, she looked at me, scoffed, and whipped out the mother of all needles. I cringed and probably jumped as the lab technician softened her approach.
Okay, I have to admit that the mother of all needles is about an inch long.
Nevertheless, I realized that dope testing would take a lot of commitment by racers - especially yours truly.
(On a related note, I can't imagine jabbing such a thing in my arm voluntarily - epo/'roid injectors and heroin addicts alike).
I didn't look at the needle (I didn't mean to even look at it at all, she just took it out before I could turn away). My veins, normally popping, slunk away, trying to get away from the needle. Mercilessly the tech asked me to make a fist, rubbed a rebellious popping vein, and I closed my eyes and scrunched my face.
There was some sharp pain, a weird sensation, and then, thankfully, that was over.
Then I had to pee in a cup. I was left on my own in the bathroom, peed in a cup, and someone was going to "take care of it" (the cup, not me) and I was to simply leave it in the bathroom.
Man, if this was the dope testing lab no one would have been found guilty of doping. Talk about uncontrolled whatever (the chain of possession term that I forget). I left and I didn't know what happened to that cup. It even had my name on it - what if I was a John Smith? There could have been another John Smith that day.
So it made me realize that dope testing is a bit intrusive in your life. The person making sure the sample really is you is supposed to see you pee in that cup. You can't be left alone to sprinkle laundry detergent in your urine (wipes out testosterone) or whiskey (negates some other test). Not really the most comfortable situation.
Actually, I'd be more comfortable giving blood. You don't have to get naked, it's quick, and the testers are more careful (AIDS, hepatitis, and all those terrible blood borne diseases). The same is sealed from the get go and there's no confusing if someone else tampers with the tube.
In a few days I'll get the results - and perhaps I'll have to "voluntarily" take two weeks off from racing due to a hematocrit over 50%. That's my goal but with a 47.x% last time, I don't know what it takes to get it up to the 49.x% I had a few years ago.
I know that you're not supposed to emulate dopers. But I just think it would be cool to get a 50% 'crit level, just like it would be cool to get pulled over for speeding on a bicycle.
Although the one time I almost got pulled over, it didn't seem like too much fun.
Ah well. Hematocrit doesn't jack up your car insurance rates.
Here's to 50%!
First off, I hate needles.
The nurse at the lab took no pity. Normally I request (and they'll use) a pediatric needle - a needle for little kids. They're so small you can barely see them (one nurse showed me the difference). But this one, she looked at me, scoffed, and whipped out the mother of all needles. I cringed and probably jumped as the lab technician softened her approach.
Okay, I have to admit that the mother of all needles is about an inch long.
Nevertheless, I realized that dope testing would take a lot of commitment by racers - especially yours truly.
(On a related note, I can't imagine jabbing such a thing in my arm voluntarily - epo/'roid injectors and heroin addicts alike).
I didn't look at the needle (I didn't mean to even look at it at all, she just took it out before I could turn away). My veins, normally popping, slunk away, trying to get away from the needle. Mercilessly the tech asked me to make a fist, rubbed a rebellious popping vein, and I closed my eyes and scrunched my face.
There was some sharp pain, a weird sensation, and then, thankfully, that was over.
Then I had to pee in a cup. I was left on my own in the bathroom, peed in a cup, and someone was going to "take care of it" (the cup, not me) and I was to simply leave it in the bathroom.
Man, if this was the dope testing lab no one would have been found guilty of doping. Talk about uncontrolled whatever (the chain of possession term that I forget). I left and I didn't know what happened to that cup. It even had my name on it - what if I was a John Smith? There could have been another John Smith that day.
So it made me realize that dope testing is a bit intrusive in your life. The person making sure the sample really is you is supposed to see you pee in that cup. You can't be left alone to sprinkle laundry detergent in your urine (wipes out testosterone) or whiskey (negates some other test). Not really the most comfortable situation.
Actually, I'd be more comfortable giving blood. You don't have to get naked, it's quick, and the testers are more careful (AIDS, hepatitis, and all those terrible blood borne diseases). The same is sealed from the get go and there's no confusing if someone else tampers with the tube.
In a few days I'll get the results - and perhaps I'll have to "voluntarily" take two weeks off from racing due to a hematocrit over 50%. That's my goal but with a 47.x% last time, I don't know what it takes to get it up to the 49.x% I had a few years ago.
I know that you're not supposed to emulate dopers. But I just think it would be cool to get a 50% 'crit level, just like it would be cool to get pulled over for speeding on a bicycle.
Although the one time I almost got pulled over, it didn't seem like too much fun.
Ah well. Hematocrit doesn't jack up your car insurance rates.
Here's to 50%!
Saturday, September 29, 2007
How To - Night Riding For Fluent Riding
With the future missus out with a friend of hers (or not, she just walked back in), I went for a night ride. I had some problems keeping track of my NiteRider a while back, leaving the light, extension cord, and the helmet both sat on somewhere in the depths of Summer Street. So as not to waste the perfectly good (and virtually new) NiteRider battery and charger I had left, I bought a second setup. Now I simply have two batteries and two chargers for my one helmet light.
For someone who likes backups and keeping things in reserve, this is a good thing.
I went out for a ride the other night, enjoyed it, so when I had the opportunity to go out again, I went.
There's something special about the night. I know there are some physical things that happen - it's usually colder since the sun is down. Your pupils dilate because it's dark out. And I read somewhere that your adrenaline gets going - the fight or flight thing, sort of revving up, "just in case". With your vision handicapped, your other senses step up their vigilance. You're more aware of touch, of sound, and of smell (except tonight - I had a stuffy nose).
My legs were a bit tender from my run the other day - I yelped when the future missus lovingly squeezed my quad - and so I wasn't expecting too much. Usually I have a goal or two in mind when I go out on a ride. Sometimes it's as simply as "Go out and ride." Other times it's a bit more specific. Tonight was a specific kind of night.
With my legs not totally recovered, I'd feel any sort of effort. With the night freeing me of distractions, I knew my legs would be broadcasting their state loud and clear. I was thinking of how to increase my aerobic base - it's my Achilles heel, and if I had a better base, I'd be able to finish more races. More finishes means more chances to sprint. A friend of mine rode a few times with a very, very good racer who happens to sprint well. What interested my friend was that the sprinter trained at a steady, locomotive-like pace. Apparently he went 220-250 watts all the time - uphill, flats, down hills.
Now, for me, the instant I start heading uphill and put any kind of effort to the pedals, I'm at 250-300 watts and usually much more - it's not uncommon for me to look down and be doing 600-900 watts when I think I'm "just getting over this hill". On the flats I prefer to stay at 100-150 watts (except when chasing trucks, imaginary sprinters, etc.). And on downhills, well, I figured out recently that if I break 100 watts on a downhill I'm working harder than normal.
So tonight I decided to see if I could be a bit more consistent with my output - perhaps a bit less on the hills, a bit more on the flats, and a lot more on the downhills. My somewhat tender legs would be better at broadcasting their workload so it's be easier to gauge my efforts.
What ended up happening was I'd go 300+ up a rise, try and maintain that on the flats, blow up, and then try it again on the next rise but keeping the numbers a bit lower. Ultimately I did something right. Instead of the paltry 145 watt ride I did on the same loop a while ago (or even the 179 watts on my "fastest" ever ride on the loop), I managed to average 184 watts.
Eventually I want to even out my efforts a bit more - it would help to spin more on the rises so I don't have to push on the flats - but I think this was a good start.
Although that was my only conscious goal before I left, soon after I thought of something I wanted to work on - looking ahead.
During the day it's easy to look down too much - see what you're about to ride over. At night, with a spotlight type beam, if you look down you quickly lose track of where you're going. Because of this, riding at night with a helmet light is the best way to learn to look forward while riding.
This is because your helmet light illuminates what you look at - and if you look down, you can't see forward anymore. Suddenly a little twitch of the bar and you're veering off the road. Sounds sort of unsafe, right? Well, it forces you to keep your head up, to look ahead.
And by default, you can't see what's directly under you.
(As a side note, in a similar vein, I think that all student drivers should have the bottom 6-10 inches of the windshield covered in limo blackout tint - so you can't see what's directly in front of the car. This would teach much better driving habits by forcing the driver to look 50-100 feet ahead, not peer at the road 10 feet in front of the car. Of course when you park your car or do any close quarters manuevering, you can simply raise up on the seat to look at what's happening.)
When I first started riding at night, it was all mountain biking. I really wanted to see what I was riding over so I could time my wheel lifts and such. I even went as far as to mount a light on my seat tube pointing downwards so the ground below me lit up!
But this didn't help. I had two light systems with two lights each and carried a lot of extra weight, but lighting everything up around me didn't help - I couldn't go beyond a certain speed because I'd outride my visual field.
Everyone told me I need one good light pointing forward, not four with one pointing down, another up a bit, even another up a bit more, and another pointing perhaps 10 feet away. I understood what they were saying but couldn't commit - I'd always end up looking down (after doing something like flipping over a big rock that disappeared out of my 20-30 feet in front light beam).
That was until my light rig died on me.
Imagine you're in the depths of a Connecticut park, 450 acres of unmarked trails, rock fields with baby head sized rocks, stone walls, logs, and lots of low hanging branches and pesky trees that spring up in front of you.
Now imagine it's pitch black.
Yeah.
You can't see a thing.
You can't even feel your way forward because you're on a bike. Sure you can scrunch up your eyes so you don't get a branch poking in it, but it simply doesn't work.
This was vividly illustrated to us one night. A bunch of us saw some kids riding with AA battery lights. We cautioned them on the lights but they were having too much fun (or they were lost, I don't know). It was already pitch dark. We saw them an hour later, walking their bikes through the thickest of bushes, completely and utterly lost. They had no sense of direction, they couldn't see anything, and were literally trying to walk in a straight line until they hit something civilized - a road, a house, something.
One of us took pity and rode back to the parking lot with them.
I didn't think too much of it until the night my light went out.
Suddenly, things were very, very scary. I couldn't see anything, I couldn't see the trail, not even my handlebars. Close your eyes real tight (but before you do that make sure you do the following after you close your eyes - count to ten and then open them so you can keep reading).
What did you see? Yeah, well that's what I saw.
Okay, I'm exaggerating a bit - I had a couple friends with me who had lights. So one of them said, "Hey, just follow me." Before I could assimilate this concept, everyone took off, including him.
I realized that everywhere I looked, except where his light shone, was pitch black (the eyes closed kind). I started pedaling furiously to catch him. I was bounding over the trail, the familiar thrumming below me, then a big bang as I launched over a rock (or log or something). I landed, somehow made it, and kept going.
After a very scary 10 or so minutes, we made it back to the car. But in those 10 minutes, I learned more about fluid and zen-like bike handling than I had in the previous 10 years of racing. When you're flying over single track with obstacles up to a foot high over slippery and inconsistent terrain, you adjust your riding style so that you can handle anything that happens automatically. Your grip on your bars gets a bit tighter but your arms are loose. You let the rear wheel skip around if it wants. You deal with things.
When you see your "headlight" (i.e. the one on the rider 10 feet in front of you) illuminate something, you file it in your head and ride around the thing you imagine (since it's in the pitch black part of your visual field). You quickly learn to stack three or four such obstacles at a time - because Mother Nature doesn't space her trail obstacles 20 feet apart for you.
I suppose it's like reading music - if you can't read ahead, you can't play. So you learn to understand the notes that are a bar or two ahead of what you're playing.
I haven't done this in a while - but when I started up tonight, I realized my helmet light was aimed pretty well - at a reasonably level head angle, the beam focused about 40 to 50 feet in front of me.
This meant I couldn't see things 10 to 15 feet in front of me.
When I realized this, I made "looking ahead" one of my goals. It helps when you drive cars, especially on entrance and exit ramps (my favorites), although it's also useful in parking lots and general street driving. So I practiced looking forward - so much so that I almost turned into the curb on a super hard right turn.
I thought I was going faster than I was and when I turned, I felt sand and grit under the tires. I quickly looked down, saw the curb about a foot away, and corrected my trajectory - the road was another 5 feet down. I was looking to my 4 and 5 o'clock - where the road ended up - until that point, looking 50-100 feet up the road.
My eagerness reined in, I had no further problems on the ride. I kept my head pretty much level, looking down only to spot check wattage, time, or to illuminate my arm (when I signaled a turn).
Another thing that happens when you can't look down too much is that you don't know what gear you're using.
This, I realized, is a good thing.
When you're in a tightly packed field, perhaps on a narrow road, you may not have the luxury of looking down to see if you're in the 18 or the 19. Instead, you shift in a zen fashion - pedals too fast = shift up, pedals too slow = shift down. If you run out of gears, you have to shift both the front and rear at the same time to get the next higher or lower gear. On your own, it's hard to discipline yourself to do this without looking down. At night, it's much easier.
This is because if you look down, the top tube reflects the light pretty strongly and basically blinds you. It's a tame but effective punishment for checking your gears. The same goes for checking your computer.
This means you're at the mercy of how you feel, what you perceive. The sensation you get when riding at night (with a helmet light aimed correctly) is sort of the same as the one you get when you're riding in a field so tightly packed you can't look down.
This is good.
Finally, with very little to distract you visually, you start to use your other senses. For safety, your ears become extremely important. I always knew this for avoiding cars (you can hear around corners you can't see around) but I didn't realize how important hearing is for riding in the peloton until this spring when I felt extremely uncomfortable fighting for position in the field. I happen to get a bit warm so uncovered my right ear. Suddenly I felt like I knew everything that was happening to my right. I still felt uncomfortable to my left. With only a lap to go, I had to uncover my left ear. I took half a lap but as soon as I did it, I could sneak through gaps I was scared of approaching earlier in the race. Hearing is important and riding at night helps reinforce this.
Your sense of touch is amplified. That sand and grit on that acute turn? I might not have noticed it during lighter hours but at night it was a huge alarm bell ringing.
Night riding is also good to test out different gear. Doing a group ride during the day is fun and you get to hang out and stuff but you learn of the uncomfortable seam on your thumb only when you're in the diner and someone says, "Hey, what's that red raw mark on your thumb?". You look and realized, oh, it must be my new gloves.
When you ride at night, any maladjustment, any misfitted clothing becomes apparent immediately to your hypersensitive body. You can tell right away when a long sleeve jersey is actually doing nothing to shield your torso from the wind, or when the wicking material in your jersey gets overloaded with moisture.
Night riding, I realized, is better than just using night hours for getting some training in the legs. It's also a good way to become more fluent in riding your bike.
For someone who likes backups and keeping things in reserve, this is a good thing.
I went out for a ride the other night, enjoyed it, so when I had the opportunity to go out again, I went.
There's something special about the night. I know there are some physical things that happen - it's usually colder since the sun is down. Your pupils dilate because it's dark out. And I read somewhere that your adrenaline gets going - the fight or flight thing, sort of revving up, "just in case". With your vision handicapped, your other senses step up their vigilance. You're more aware of touch, of sound, and of smell (except tonight - I had a stuffy nose).
My legs were a bit tender from my run the other day - I yelped when the future missus lovingly squeezed my quad - and so I wasn't expecting too much. Usually I have a goal or two in mind when I go out on a ride. Sometimes it's as simply as "Go out and ride." Other times it's a bit more specific. Tonight was a specific kind of night.
With my legs not totally recovered, I'd feel any sort of effort. With the night freeing me of distractions, I knew my legs would be broadcasting their state loud and clear. I was thinking of how to increase my aerobic base - it's my Achilles heel, and if I had a better base, I'd be able to finish more races. More finishes means more chances to sprint. A friend of mine rode a few times with a very, very good racer who happens to sprint well. What interested my friend was that the sprinter trained at a steady, locomotive-like pace. Apparently he went 220-250 watts all the time - uphill, flats, down hills.
Now, for me, the instant I start heading uphill and put any kind of effort to the pedals, I'm at 250-300 watts and usually much more - it's not uncommon for me to look down and be doing 600-900 watts when I think I'm "just getting over this hill". On the flats I prefer to stay at 100-150 watts (except when chasing trucks, imaginary sprinters, etc.). And on downhills, well, I figured out recently that if I break 100 watts on a downhill I'm working harder than normal.
So tonight I decided to see if I could be a bit more consistent with my output - perhaps a bit less on the hills, a bit more on the flats, and a lot more on the downhills. My somewhat tender legs would be better at broadcasting their workload so it's be easier to gauge my efforts.
What ended up happening was I'd go 300+ up a rise, try and maintain that on the flats, blow up, and then try it again on the next rise but keeping the numbers a bit lower. Ultimately I did something right. Instead of the paltry 145 watt ride I did on the same loop a while ago (or even the 179 watts on my "fastest" ever ride on the loop), I managed to average 184 watts.
Eventually I want to even out my efforts a bit more - it would help to spin more on the rises so I don't have to push on the flats - but I think this was a good start.
Although that was my only conscious goal before I left, soon after I thought of something I wanted to work on - looking ahead.
During the day it's easy to look down too much - see what you're about to ride over. At night, with a spotlight type beam, if you look down you quickly lose track of where you're going. Because of this, riding at night with a helmet light is the best way to learn to look forward while riding.
This is because your helmet light illuminates what you look at - and if you look down, you can't see forward anymore. Suddenly a little twitch of the bar and you're veering off the road. Sounds sort of unsafe, right? Well, it forces you to keep your head up, to look ahead.
And by default, you can't see what's directly under you.
(As a side note, in a similar vein, I think that all student drivers should have the bottom 6-10 inches of the windshield covered in limo blackout tint - so you can't see what's directly in front of the car. This would teach much better driving habits by forcing the driver to look 50-100 feet ahead, not peer at the road 10 feet in front of the car. Of course when you park your car or do any close quarters manuevering, you can simply raise up on the seat to look at what's happening.)
When I first started riding at night, it was all mountain biking. I really wanted to see what I was riding over so I could time my wheel lifts and such. I even went as far as to mount a light on my seat tube pointing downwards so the ground below me lit up!
But this didn't help. I had two light systems with two lights each and carried a lot of extra weight, but lighting everything up around me didn't help - I couldn't go beyond a certain speed because I'd outride my visual field.
Everyone told me I need one good light pointing forward, not four with one pointing down, another up a bit, even another up a bit more, and another pointing perhaps 10 feet away. I understood what they were saying but couldn't commit - I'd always end up looking down (after doing something like flipping over a big rock that disappeared out of my 20-30 feet in front light beam).
That was until my light rig died on me.
Imagine you're in the depths of a Connecticut park, 450 acres of unmarked trails, rock fields with baby head sized rocks, stone walls, logs, and lots of low hanging branches and pesky trees that spring up in front of you.
Now imagine it's pitch black.
Yeah.
You can't see a thing.
You can't even feel your way forward because you're on a bike. Sure you can scrunch up your eyes so you don't get a branch poking in it, but it simply doesn't work.
This was vividly illustrated to us one night. A bunch of us saw some kids riding with AA battery lights. We cautioned them on the lights but they were having too much fun (or they were lost, I don't know). It was already pitch dark. We saw them an hour later, walking their bikes through the thickest of bushes, completely and utterly lost. They had no sense of direction, they couldn't see anything, and were literally trying to walk in a straight line until they hit something civilized - a road, a house, something.
One of us took pity and rode back to the parking lot with them.
I didn't think too much of it until the night my light went out.
Suddenly, things were very, very scary. I couldn't see anything, I couldn't see the trail, not even my handlebars. Close your eyes real tight (but before you do that make sure you do the following after you close your eyes - count to ten and then open them so you can keep reading).
What did you see? Yeah, well that's what I saw.
Okay, I'm exaggerating a bit - I had a couple friends with me who had lights. So one of them said, "Hey, just follow me." Before I could assimilate this concept, everyone took off, including him.
I realized that everywhere I looked, except where his light shone, was pitch black (the eyes closed kind). I started pedaling furiously to catch him. I was bounding over the trail, the familiar thrumming below me, then a big bang as I launched over a rock (or log or something). I landed, somehow made it, and kept going.
After a very scary 10 or so minutes, we made it back to the car. But in those 10 minutes, I learned more about fluid and zen-like bike handling than I had in the previous 10 years of racing. When you're flying over single track with obstacles up to a foot high over slippery and inconsistent terrain, you adjust your riding style so that you can handle anything that happens automatically. Your grip on your bars gets a bit tighter but your arms are loose. You let the rear wheel skip around if it wants. You deal with things.
When you see your "headlight" (i.e. the one on the rider 10 feet in front of you) illuminate something, you file it in your head and ride around the thing you imagine (since it's in the pitch black part of your visual field). You quickly learn to stack three or four such obstacles at a time - because Mother Nature doesn't space her trail obstacles 20 feet apart for you.
I suppose it's like reading music - if you can't read ahead, you can't play. So you learn to understand the notes that are a bar or two ahead of what you're playing.
I haven't done this in a while - but when I started up tonight, I realized my helmet light was aimed pretty well - at a reasonably level head angle, the beam focused about 40 to 50 feet in front of me.
This meant I couldn't see things 10 to 15 feet in front of me.
When I realized this, I made "looking ahead" one of my goals. It helps when you drive cars, especially on entrance and exit ramps (my favorites), although it's also useful in parking lots and general street driving. So I practiced looking forward - so much so that I almost turned into the curb on a super hard right turn.
I thought I was going faster than I was and when I turned, I felt sand and grit under the tires. I quickly looked down, saw the curb about a foot away, and corrected my trajectory - the road was another 5 feet down. I was looking to my 4 and 5 o'clock - where the road ended up - until that point, looking 50-100 feet up the road.
My eagerness reined in, I had no further problems on the ride. I kept my head pretty much level, looking down only to spot check wattage, time, or to illuminate my arm (when I signaled a turn).
Another thing that happens when you can't look down too much is that you don't know what gear you're using.
This, I realized, is a good thing.
When you're in a tightly packed field, perhaps on a narrow road, you may not have the luxury of looking down to see if you're in the 18 or the 19. Instead, you shift in a zen fashion - pedals too fast = shift up, pedals too slow = shift down. If you run out of gears, you have to shift both the front and rear at the same time to get the next higher or lower gear. On your own, it's hard to discipline yourself to do this without looking down. At night, it's much easier.
This is because if you look down, the top tube reflects the light pretty strongly and basically blinds you. It's a tame but effective punishment for checking your gears. The same goes for checking your computer.
This means you're at the mercy of how you feel, what you perceive. The sensation you get when riding at night (with a helmet light aimed correctly) is sort of the same as the one you get when you're riding in a field so tightly packed you can't look down.
This is good.
Finally, with very little to distract you visually, you start to use your other senses. For safety, your ears become extremely important. I always knew this for avoiding cars (you can hear around corners you can't see around) but I didn't realize how important hearing is for riding in the peloton until this spring when I felt extremely uncomfortable fighting for position in the field. I happen to get a bit warm so uncovered my right ear. Suddenly I felt like I knew everything that was happening to my right. I still felt uncomfortable to my left. With only a lap to go, I had to uncover my left ear. I took half a lap but as soon as I did it, I could sneak through gaps I was scared of approaching earlier in the race. Hearing is important and riding at night helps reinforce this.
Your sense of touch is amplified. That sand and grit on that acute turn? I might not have noticed it during lighter hours but at night it was a huge alarm bell ringing.
Night riding is also good to test out different gear. Doing a group ride during the day is fun and you get to hang out and stuff but you learn of the uncomfortable seam on your thumb only when you're in the diner and someone says, "Hey, what's that red raw mark on your thumb?". You look and realized, oh, it must be my new gloves.
When you ride at night, any maladjustment, any misfitted clothing becomes apparent immediately to your hypersensitive body. You can tell right away when a long sleeve jersey is actually doing nothing to shield your torso from the wind, or when the wicking material in your jersey gets overloaded with moisture.
Night riding, I realized, is better than just using night hours for getting some training in the legs. It's also a good way to become more fluent in riding your bike.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Training - Baseline Run
Suffice it to say that I haven't been doing too much with the bike. The wedding is next week, there are the various last minute details to iron out, we still haven't moved completely, and I'm still a bit under the weather.
Each day seems like a balance between trying to rest, trying to keep my throat from going "a bit raw" to "sore", and seeing if I have the energy to work, and on the really good days, to do a bit of physical exercise.
As it's off season, and with a lot of non-biking stuff scheduled in the next few weeks, I've decided to put any purchases on hold. I did, however, somehow buy rust proof materials for the van in my very ill haze and didn't know I did it until the UPS guy dropped off the boxes at the door. I don't think I've ordered anything else like that, and for now, I'm not planning on doing so.
The future missus and I try to do a regular walk up and down the Rails to Trails path around here - we even took the tandem on it one evening. Somehow, although it couldn't have been planned, every stretch is a mile long. So if you go from where we are (next to a RtT intersection), turn left and go to the next intersection, it's a mile. 0.99 miles according to gmap-pedometer. Go right and it's a mile too.
Now, for an unspecified reason, I've gotten in my head that I need to be able to do some general all around fitness type things at some reasonable level. This involves a bit of stretching, some abdominal work, upper body work, and running.
No, you do not need to look for me at 2008 multi-sport events.
The other night I did a couch-thumping bunch of sit-ups. I did crunches too but I timed myself on sit-ups for a minute. I anchored my feet under the couch and started up (after starting a 60 second timer), but my flailing around moved the couch almost a foot (hence the couch-thumping). I stopped after 35 sit-ups because I thought a minute had gone by and perhaps I didn't start the timer - I didn't want to be doing sit-ups for 2 or 3 minutes. When I looked at my watch it was at 5 seconds to go. I managed two more but felt awkward and weak after I was done. So, in the spirit of the samurai (always looking to improve oneself), I decided I better do this more often so I'm a bit more fluent.
About running... I once heard a relatively well known cyclist, who grew up riding with a much better known cyclist (ex-teammate for a while now), talk about running. Just like the really well known ex-teammate (he won a bunch of Tours), he cut his teeth on triathlons. And after he retired from his pro cycling career, he decided to return to his tri roots. When queried by another ex-pro on how this change was going, he said that the biggest thing to deal with was that since cycling is so gentle on your joints, he had to allocate months of running to toughen them back up (so he could run the distances necessary to train at a pro level).
Although I was simply eavesdropping on this conversation, I filed this information away like I normally do. And now, a few years later, as someone who's seeing if he can run faster than an 8:00 minute mile, I've started to realize a bit of what that guy was talking about.
For now, my runs (all three of them) have progressed steadily in an unspectacular fashion. I managed a mile run the first time (about a month ago now), and it took me about 10 minutes of careful trotting.
It killed my legs.
I had to hold onto the towel bar to sit on the toilet. I almost fell down the stairs when my legs buckled. And it took a good four or five days to recover.
A couple weeks later I did a slightly faster run, the same mile, and although I walked for a minute after running at a very optimistic pace for 5 or 6 minutes, I covered the mile in about 8 minutes. And although my shins were a bit sore (worrying me), within a day I was fine. And my muscles were fine.
Using the satellite picture on gmap-pedometer, I picked out a tree which marked the 1/2 mile point, got my gear on (it's much easier getting ready to run versus riding), and went out the door. It's just over 1/2 mile to get to the half mile point so I walked it sort of quickly - I don't really know too much about warm-ups, never really did them for cycling, so I figure walking for about 10 minutes is plenty. Then, to get a baseline for a 1.5 mile run, I started running when I got to the Tree.
My heart rate immediately went up and I was on my way. I was dying at the turnaround a half mile away, convinced it'd taken me at least 5 or 6 minutes to get there, my heart rate higher than I normally see on the bike (and staying there). I checked my time - 3:45 (!).
Okay, that's pretty impressive. Well to me it is.
So I walked my heart rate down to about 170 (from 172, which is kind of high for me), which was about 10 seconds, and started trotting back. At the Tree I walked again, let my heart rate drop from 176 to 172 or so (I gave myself another 10 seconds regardless of the heart rate), and I continued on to the end of the path. I walked another 10 seconds at the end but even so I covered the 1.5 miles in 12:04.
Peak heart rate - 181. I rarely hit that in sprints.
So... that's my baseline. In the next month I'd like to reduce that time, perhaps by as much as a minute. I can't imagine not being able to run a lot faster than my sorry trot I did today.
In other news, Secondo, from a race way back when, apparently lives in the area. He asked if I wanted to ride. The route he mentioned goes up a road towards a house the future missus and I like so I remembered the road. One of the comments on the house was that if we lived there, I'd get a lot of climbing in as I'd have to do a couple major hills just to get home on each ride. That included said road.
Anyway, for me, right now, I wouldn't want to put someone through the agony of waiting for me on such climbs.
With incredible foresight, I'd been thinking about what to do if someone offers something like this (i.e. "Want to go for a ride?"). I had to find a way to point out that, although I may hold my own at Bethel and New Britain, I make for pretty miserable training company unless my ride companions are on an easy day. I tell guys (like on my team, like a Cat 5 on the team) "I'm not really fit" and they all pshaw me and tell me "Yeah whatever". Then when my heart rate goes over 170, I'm dying, and they're soft pedaling up the hill in front of me, they realize, oh, maybe Aki was right about that.
Anyway, I've decided power and average speed are two easy ways to illustrate my riding ability (or lack thereof).
Along those lines, the last few rides on the bike (even as recently as this week), I've kept track of things like average speed, power, etc. And the numbers are quite low. On essentially a flat route (I get out of the saddle for perhaps 3 little rises, none of them remotely close as big as the 150 meter "hill" at Bethel), I average about 28 kph or about 17 mph. My power rarely exceeds a 170 watt average. And on these sub-hour rides, when I get back, I'm somewhat spent.
I pointed this out to Secondo, who, somehow, hasn't pressed the issue. To be fair he knows I'm getting married and stuff but I still think it's sort of funny.
So I'm continuing some of these "all 'round" fitness things. This weekend we hope to finalize most of our moving in, get some wedding things finalized, and start thinking about next weekend and the honeymoon week after that.
Each day seems like a balance between trying to rest, trying to keep my throat from going "a bit raw" to "sore", and seeing if I have the energy to work, and on the really good days, to do a bit of physical exercise.
As it's off season, and with a lot of non-biking stuff scheduled in the next few weeks, I've decided to put any purchases on hold. I did, however, somehow buy rust proof materials for the van in my very ill haze and didn't know I did it until the UPS guy dropped off the boxes at the door. I don't think I've ordered anything else like that, and for now, I'm not planning on doing so.
The future missus and I try to do a regular walk up and down the Rails to Trails path around here - we even took the tandem on it one evening. Somehow, although it couldn't have been planned, every stretch is a mile long. So if you go from where we are (next to a RtT intersection), turn left and go to the next intersection, it's a mile. 0.99 miles according to gmap-pedometer. Go right and it's a mile too.
Now, for an unspecified reason, I've gotten in my head that I need to be able to do some general all around fitness type things at some reasonable level. This involves a bit of stretching, some abdominal work, upper body work, and running.
No, you do not need to look for me at 2008 multi-sport events.
The other night I did a couch-thumping bunch of sit-ups. I did crunches too but I timed myself on sit-ups for a minute. I anchored my feet under the couch and started up (after starting a 60 second timer), but my flailing around moved the couch almost a foot (hence the couch-thumping). I stopped after 35 sit-ups because I thought a minute had gone by and perhaps I didn't start the timer - I didn't want to be doing sit-ups for 2 or 3 minutes. When I looked at my watch it was at 5 seconds to go. I managed two more but felt awkward and weak after I was done. So, in the spirit of the samurai (always looking to improve oneself), I decided I better do this more often so I'm a bit more fluent.
About running... I once heard a relatively well known cyclist, who grew up riding with a much better known cyclist (ex-teammate for a while now), talk about running. Just like the really well known ex-teammate (he won a bunch of Tours), he cut his teeth on triathlons. And after he retired from his pro cycling career, he decided to return to his tri roots. When queried by another ex-pro on how this change was going, he said that the biggest thing to deal with was that since cycling is so gentle on your joints, he had to allocate months of running to toughen them back up (so he could run the distances necessary to train at a pro level).
Although I was simply eavesdropping on this conversation, I filed this information away like I normally do. And now, a few years later, as someone who's seeing if he can run faster than an 8:00 minute mile, I've started to realize a bit of what that guy was talking about.
For now, my runs (all three of them) have progressed steadily in an unspectacular fashion. I managed a mile run the first time (about a month ago now), and it took me about 10 minutes of careful trotting.
It killed my legs.
I had to hold onto the towel bar to sit on the toilet. I almost fell down the stairs when my legs buckled. And it took a good four or five days to recover.
A couple weeks later I did a slightly faster run, the same mile, and although I walked for a minute after running at a very optimistic pace for 5 or 6 minutes, I covered the mile in about 8 minutes. And although my shins were a bit sore (worrying me), within a day I was fine. And my muscles were fine.
Using the satellite picture on gmap-pedometer, I picked out a tree which marked the 1/2 mile point, got my gear on (it's much easier getting ready to run versus riding), and went out the door. It's just over 1/2 mile to get to the half mile point so I walked it sort of quickly - I don't really know too much about warm-ups, never really did them for cycling, so I figure walking for about 10 minutes is plenty. Then, to get a baseline for a 1.5 mile run, I started running when I got to the Tree.
My heart rate immediately went up and I was on my way. I was dying at the turnaround a half mile away, convinced it'd taken me at least 5 or 6 minutes to get there, my heart rate higher than I normally see on the bike (and staying there). I checked my time - 3:45 (!).
Okay, that's pretty impressive. Well to me it is.
So I walked my heart rate down to about 170 (from 172, which is kind of high for me), which was about 10 seconds, and started trotting back. At the Tree I walked again, let my heart rate drop from 176 to 172 or so (I gave myself another 10 seconds regardless of the heart rate), and I continued on to the end of the path. I walked another 10 seconds at the end but even so I covered the 1.5 miles in 12:04.
Peak heart rate - 181. I rarely hit that in sprints.
So... that's my baseline. In the next month I'd like to reduce that time, perhaps by as much as a minute. I can't imagine not being able to run a lot faster than my sorry trot I did today.
In other news, Secondo, from a race way back when, apparently lives in the area. He asked if I wanted to ride. The route he mentioned goes up a road towards a house the future missus and I like so I remembered the road. One of the comments on the house was that if we lived there, I'd get a lot of climbing in as I'd have to do a couple major hills just to get home on each ride. That included said road.
Anyway, for me, right now, I wouldn't want to put someone through the agony of waiting for me on such climbs.
With incredible foresight, I'd been thinking about what to do if someone offers something like this (i.e. "Want to go for a ride?"). I had to find a way to point out that, although I may hold my own at Bethel and New Britain, I make for pretty miserable training company unless my ride companions are on an easy day. I tell guys (like on my team, like a Cat 5 on the team) "I'm not really fit" and they all pshaw me and tell me "Yeah whatever". Then when my heart rate goes over 170, I'm dying, and they're soft pedaling up the hill in front of me, they realize, oh, maybe Aki was right about that.
Anyway, I've decided power and average speed are two easy ways to illustrate my riding ability (or lack thereof).
Along those lines, the last few rides on the bike (even as recently as this week), I've kept track of things like average speed, power, etc. And the numbers are quite low. On essentially a flat route (I get out of the saddle for perhaps 3 little rises, none of them remotely close as big as the 150 meter "hill" at Bethel), I average about 28 kph or about 17 mph. My power rarely exceeds a 170 watt average. And on these sub-hour rides, when I get back, I'm somewhat spent.
I pointed this out to Secondo, who, somehow, hasn't pressed the issue. To be fair he knows I'm getting married and stuff but I still think it's sort of funny.
So I'm continuing some of these "all 'round" fitness things. This weekend we hope to finalize most of our moving in, get some wedding things finalized, and start thinking about next weekend and the honeymoon week after that.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Equipment - Off Season Musings
Each fall, after my season starts to wind down, I think about what I might to do evolve my bike just a bit more. I think about some of the bike bits and pieces I saw out there during the season. Of course, with Interbike happening right now, things change so rapidly I have to put things on hold. After all, Interbike is when many manufacturers reveal their new latest and greatest thing ever to happen to bikes.
I've alluded to this before by my decision process is normally a tortuously drawn out "compare and contrast", cost analysis (meaning what my different options will cost me), benefit analysis (what I'll get out of it - usually in terms of subjective features, like "I want deep profile training wheels", not things like "I want to reduce my bike's aerodynamic drag by 4 or 5%), and finally figuring out if I trust off-market sources (eBay, craigslist, etc) or need to ante up for full price and full service.
In the past I've made a few changes to convert my bike to an off season mode. During the season I focus on emphasizing speed, agility, and getting my psyche to think my bike is really cool. I get the speed by putting on my deep, light wheels, using tubulars, and slapping on the steel/ti 11-23 cassette. I used to go as far as getting bigger chainrings but it seems I'm past that now. Agility comes with narrower bars (I rarely use bars wider than 41cm c-to-c), "brifters" (brake-shift levers) at an angle which makes it easy to shift under full power sprints, and my bars as low as possible (to weight the front wheel - easier to pull interesting maneuvers like that). The "cool" bit is subjective, but whenever my bike wears matching deep carbon rimmed wheels, it can't help but look cool.
When I go to off season mode, my focus does a 180. I look for durabilty (instead of speed), ability to sustain rolling efforts (instead of agility), and, although I still go for a "cool bike" look, a cool winter bike looks totally different from a cool race bike.
The durability comes from substituting more durable but typically heavier parts - an all steel cassette (11-25, not 11-23), heavier clinchers (versus tubulars), wheels with exposed spoke nipples so I can true the wheel without too much extra work, things like that.
The "rolling effort" bit is maybe misnamed but it refers to cruising along in a decent gear, not worrying about responding to an imaginary attack, just doing what someone like, say, a domestique would do for the first 100k of a flat transition stage - motor on the hoods at the front of the group. For this I like a wider bar (42-43 cm c-to-c), higher brifters, ideally a smaller big ring (I used to run a 51T for example), and decent rolling tires.
And finally, making a cool looking winter bike involves loading it up with bottles, a pump, a miniscule seat bag packed to the gills, blinky taillight, a computer or two, and some extra electrical tape (wrapped around a stem or a seatpost). The bag would contain two tubes, a multi tool, a chain tool, tire levers, money, thing cardboard for patching tire cuts, and perhaps a PowerGel. The rider has to match - pockets bulging with long sleeve stuff, a wind vest, and dressed to the nines in booties, knickers (tights if absolutely necessary), jacket, long gloves, neck gear, head gear, and some poorly ventilated helmet.
This year, like the last few, I have pretty much everything on the list. The only thing I'm missing are what I'd consider to be some "rolling effort" gear. What do you see when you see a team slogging away at the front to keep a break in check? Suffering racers. Matching kits. And, inevitably, deep rimmed wheels.
I have deep rimmed wheels, just not clinchers. Well the one clincher I have is a TriSpoke.
So, one of my things to check out are a set of deep rim carbon wheels (50-60mm or so), clinchers, with exposed spoke nipples. Although weight won't be as critical, it'll be nice to get a set that doesn't feel like carbon-wrapped iron. And a final thing is getting a rear wheel that is PowerTap compatible. Although a 32 hole deep rim wheel seems illogical, I would consider it. I'd prefer a 24 hole deep rim but that would take some inventory adjustments, especially since I'm thinking of a 24 hole PT for racing (with a tubular deep carbon rim).
Or, as I've thought every now and then, sell the PowerTap, buy an SRM, and use whatever wheels I like.
First though, I need to eat dinner.
I've alluded to this before by my decision process is normally a tortuously drawn out "compare and contrast", cost analysis (meaning what my different options will cost me), benefit analysis (what I'll get out of it - usually in terms of subjective features, like "I want deep profile training wheels", not things like "I want to reduce my bike's aerodynamic drag by 4 or 5%), and finally figuring out if I trust off-market sources (eBay, craigslist, etc) or need to ante up for full price and full service.
In the past I've made a few changes to convert my bike to an off season mode. During the season I focus on emphasizing speed, agility, and getting my psyche to think my bike is really cool. I get the speed by putting on my deep, light wheels, using tubulars, and slapping on the steel/ti 11-23 cassette. I used to go as far as getting bigger chainrings but it seems I'm past that now. Agility comes with narrower bars (I rarely use bars wider than 41cm c-to-c), "brifters" (brake-shift levers) at an angle which makes it easy to shift under full power sprints, and my bars as low as possible (to weight the front wheel - easier to pull interesting maneuvers like that). The "cool" bit is subjective, but whenever my bike wears matching deep carbon rimmed wheels, it can't help but look cool.
When I go to off season mode, my focus does a 180. I look for durabilty (instead of speed), ability to sustain rolling efforts (instead of agility), and, although I still go for a "cool bike" look, a cool winter bike looks totally different from a cool race bike.
The durability comes from substituting more durable but typically heavier parts - an all steel cassette (11-25, not 11-23), heavier clinchers (versus tubulars), wheels with exposed spoke nipples so I can true the wheel without too much extra work, things like that.
The "rolling effort" bit is maybe misnamed but it refers to cruising along in a decent gear, not worrying about responding to an imaginary attack, just doing what someone like, say, a domestique would do for the first 100k of a flat transition stage - motor on the hoods at the front of the group. For this I like a wider bar (42-43 cm c-to-c), higher brifters, ideally a smaller big ring (I used to run a 51T for example), and decent rolling tires.
And finally, making a cool looking winter bike involves loading it up with bottles, a pump, a miniscule seat bag packed to the gills, blinky taillight, a computer or two, and some extra electrical tape (wrapped around a stem or a seatpost). The bag would contain two tubes, a multi tool, a chain tool, tire levers, money, thing cardboard for patching tire cuts, and perhaps a PowerGel. The rider has to match - pockets bulging with long sleeve stuff, a wind vest, and dressed to the nines in booties, knickers (tights if absolutely necessary), jacket, long gloves, neck gear, head gear, and some poorly ventilated helmet.
This year, like the last few, I have pretty much everything on the list. The only thing I'm missing are what I'd consider to be some "rolling effort" gear. What do you see when you see a team slogging away at the front to keep a break in check? Suffering racers. Matching kits. And, inevitably, deep rimmed wheels.
I have deep rimmed wheels, just not clinchers. Well the one clincher I have is a TriSpoke.
So, one of my things to check out are a set of deep rim carbon wheels (50-60mm or so), clinchers, with exposed spoke nipples. Although weight won't be as critical, it'll be nice to get a set that doesn't feel like carbon-wrapped iron. And a final thing is getting a rear wheel that is PowerTap compatible. Although a 32 hole deep rim wheel seems illogical, I would consider it. I'd prefer a 24 hole deep rim but that would take some inventory adjustments, especially since I'm thinking of a 24 hole PT for racing (with a tubular deep carbon rim).
Or, as I've thought every now and then, sell the PowerTap, buy an SRM, and use whatever wheels I like.
First though, I need to eat dinner.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Birthday Boy
Maybe Birthday "Man" would be more accurate.
Last weekend I celebrated a milestone birthday (celebration Saturday, actual birthday Sunday). A while ago I took a life expectancy test online and it said I'd live to 83. If that's the case, I'm almost at halfway now. I have about 43 years to win a Nationals or something.
Anyway...
The future missus organized a get together at my brother/dad's place and got a whole bunch of people together. We sat around, didn't drink too much, ate, and hung out. It's always nice when a bunch of friends get together - more than the one or two that usually hang out (like working on a car or going to a race). When you hit four or five, it gets to be more fun. And when there are something like 20 people, it's really nice.
The invites said no gifts but some couldn't resist nonetheless. I guess a "gift card" can hide inside a card so a bunch slipped me such a thing. My other brother (the one in Boston) mailed me a book on fighter planes - and although I didn't realize it, my WW2 fighter plane knowledge was full of a few big holes, specifically the various model variants' power, armament, and armor differences. I spent pretty much the next two days reading the various plane specs, figured out the significance of power to prop size relationships, and learned all sorts of things about all the plastic models I built 30 or so years ago.
Apparently post WW2 planes don't interest me because at some point I realized I was reading over the same planes again and announced I'd finished reading the book. Then I started from the back (when they say that some people read such reference books forwards and backwards, I'm one of those people who actually do that). When I looked at the last plane (the F-18 - for you aeronautics fans, the book was published in 1981, so nothing more exotic than that), I realized I hadn't even seen the pages before. I realized there were a whole host of jets I'd never even heard of - and then I figured out I'd read and re-read only half the book. As soon as the end-of-war jets appeared, I started flipping back to the front.
A couple friends gave me actual gifts - all related, of course, to bikes or cars. A cool gift was an old Kucharick hairnet from a guy I've known for something like 18 years or so. It was cleverly wrapped so impossible to tell what it was - and back in the day it was the best padded hairnet. Scary that they used to be considered "protection".
Then the future missus gave me her gift - and it was a modern day helmet, an '08 S Works something helmet. Incredibly light, ventilated, with a "round-the-head" locking system. My current helmet was getting ratty, the locking system was sketchy, I always had sweat in my eyes, so this was a great gift.
She'd gone to a local shop and asked for a Large helmet (I have an egg head). The guy (a co-owner of the shop, a local and former pro racer) asked "Are you sure?". She replied to the affirmative. As she has a size small head, he must have been a bit confused until she mentioned it was for me. Apparently he knew who I was, thought of what I looked like, and didn't question the size Large anymore.
Hmph.
Anyway, he opened up some new shipment of stuff and pulled out this spiffy helmet. The future missus was rightly impressed with its lack of weight (although, as she pointed out, I'll stick a helmet cam on it), big vent channels, made sure it was big enough, and bought it.
By the way, for you weight weenies out there, although the size S helmet is 184 grams, the size L is "guarranteed to be under 263 grams" according to the box - and that's without the visor. You know, if I had a smaller head, my kit would weigh 80 grams less. 80 grams I wouldn't have to lose (or buy off my bike somehow). Pinheads rejoice.
When it got dark my brother lit off some fireworks. We do this regularly after they de-criminalized fireworks in the state and the town, but based on the attention some of the "city folks" (from local cities), apparently we're in the minority. Lots of sparkly lights, noise, and smoke - always fun.
The mix of bike people and non bike people made it a bit interesting (perhaps boring for the one guy who has nothing to do with bikes). I figured out after the fact that I'll have to move around a bit more when socializing in a big group (like at the reception). One advantage of getting older is that you know who your friends are - although a couple of them I only met in the last 2 or 3 years, the majority I met 15 or 20 years ago.
What is incredible is that the future missus organized this two weeks before the wedding and three weeks after we moved and sold our house. In addition to all that nonsense, on the morning of the party the future missus drove an hour an a half to her dress fitting.
I should say that although we're still working out the final numbers for the wedding/reception and figuring out some final details, the wedding is looming pretty quickly. Very different from two Aprils ago when we got engaged.
Sunday we returned home after we picked up a big desk for the home office. We went for a ride on the tandem, the first up here. As it was somewhat late I brought the NiteRider and we used the blinky taillight the whole time. We explored a bit of the rails to trails system around here, passed a few families on bikes, couples walking or cycling, the dog-walker or two, and a friendly guy in a wheelchair. It was nice and relaxing ride, and although work interrupted quite jarringly towards the end, a perfect close to the weekend.
Last weekend I celebrated a milestone birthday (celebration Saturday, actual birthday Sunday). A while ago I took a life expectancy test online and it said I'd live to 83. If that's the case, I'm almost at halfway now. I have about 43 years to win a Nationals or something.
Anyway...
The future missus organized a get together at my brother/dad's place and got a whole bunch of people together. We sat around, didn't drink too much, ate, and hung out. It's always nice when a bunch of friends get together - more than the one or two that usually hang out (like working on a car or going to a race). When you hit four or five, it gets to be more fun. And when there are something like 20 people, it's really nice.
The invites said no gifts but some couldn't resist nonetheless. I guess a "gift card" can hide inside a card so a bunch slipped me such a thing. My other brother (the one in Boston) mailed me a book on fighter planes - and although I didn't realize it, my WW2 fighter plane knowledge was full of a few big holes, specifically the various model variants' power, armament, and armor differences. I spent pretty much the next two days reading the various plane specs, figured out the significance of power to prop size relationships, and learned all sorts of things about all the plastic models I built 30 or so years ago.
Apparently post WW2 planes don't interest me because at some point I realized I was reading over the same planes again and announced I'd finished reading the book. Then I started from the back (when they say that some people read such reference books forwards and backwards, I'm one of those people who actually do that). When I looked at the last plane (the F-18 - for you aeronautics fans, the book was published in 1981, so nothing more exotic than that), I realized I hadn't even seen the pages before. I realized there were a whole host of jets I'd never even heard of - and then I figured out I'd read and re-read only half the book. As soon as the end-of-war jets appeared, I started flipping back to the front.
A couple friends gave me actual gifts - all related, of course, to bikes or cars. A cool gift was an old Kucharick hairnet from a guy I've known for something like 18 years or so. It was cleverly wrapped so impossible to tell what it was - and back in the day it was the best padded hairnet. Scary that they used to be considered "protection".
Then the future missus gave me her gift - and it was a modern day helmet, an '08 S Works something helmet. Incredibly light, ventilated, with a "round-the-head" locking system. My current helmet was getting ratty, the locking system was sketchy, I always had sweat in my eyes, so this was a great gift.
She'd gone to a local shop and asked for a Large helmet (I have an egg head). The guy (a co-owner of the shop, a local and former pro racer) asked "Are you sure?". She replied to the affirmative. As she has a size small head, he must have been a bit confused until she mentioned it was for me. Apparently he knew who I was, thought of what I looked like, and didn't question the size Large anymore.
Hmph.
Anyway, he opened up some new shipment of stuff and pulled out this spiffy helmet. The future missus was rightly impressed with its lack of weight (although, as she pointed out, I'll stick a helmet cam on it), big vent channels, made sure it was big enough, and bought it.
By the way, for you weight weenies out there, although the size S helmet is 184 grams, the size L is "guarranteed to be under 263 grams" according to the box - and that's without the visor. You know, if I had a smaller head, my kit would weigh 80 grams less. 80 grams I wouldn't have to lose (or buy off my bike somehow). Pinheads rejoice.
When it got dark my brother lit off some fireworks. We do this regularly after they de-criminalized fireworks in the state and the town, but based on the attention some of the "city folks" (from local cities), apparently we're in the minority. Lots of sparkly lights, noise, and smoke - always fun.
The mix of bike people and non bike people made it a bit interesting (perhaps boring for the one guy who has nothing to do with bikes). I figured out after the fact that I'll have to move around a bit more when socializing in a big group (like at the reception). One advantage of getting older is that you know who your friends are - although a couple of them I only met in the last 2 or 3 years, the majority I met 15 or 20 years ago.
What is incredible is that the future missus organized this two weeks before the wedding and three weeks after we moved and sold our house. In addition to all that nonsense, on the morning of the party the future missus drove an hour an a half to her dress fitting.
I should say that although we're still working out the final numbers for the wedding/reception and figuring out some final details, the wedding is looming pretty quickly. Very different from two Aprils ago when we got engaged.
Sunday we returned home after we picked up a big desk for the home office. We went for a ride on the tandem, the first up here. As it was somewhat late I brought the NiteRider and we used the blinky taillight the whole time. We explored a bit of the rails to trails system around here, passed a few families on bikes, couples walking or cycling, the dog-walker or two, and a friendly guy in a wheelchair. It was nice and relaxing ride, and although work interrupted quite jarringly towards the end, a perfect close to the weekend.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Doping - Sauron's Veil
I feel like Theoden, the king of Rohan, after Grima's evil work is lifted from him. The past three days have been like a haze, a delirious mish mash of heat, chills, hunger, and above all, an overwhelming fatigue. With some potions supplied by the future missus (a mysterious red substance named NyQuil as well as something I'll leave unnamed but it fixes things one doesn't talk about in polite company), I overcame the evilness, warded off the blanket of fatigue, and stand now free of all such encumberments (that's not a word I think but you get the gist of it).
Apparently my brain is still feeling the after effects judging by what I just wrote. I suppose my aborted attempt at watching the Return of the King a couple weeks ago (the last time I watched even a portion of a movie) had something to do with that first paragraph.
At any rate my oblivion was such that I missed all sorts of things.
For example, a figurehead of the World Rally Championships passed away over the weekend. If anyone had told me during my haze that the famous Scottish rally racer Colin McRae had died, I'd have thought they were the ones possessed by evil spirits. However, sadly, McRae died in a helicopter crash (on Saturday, the point at which, I think, the blanket was descending but I was not aware of it just yet). He helped make the World Rally Championship part of American kids' vocabulary (although they just knew it as the "rally" part of the Playstation's Gran Turismo).
It was his driving and his charismatic character that made the blue Subarus (and Ford Focuses) so well known in the rallying world. This then prompted Subaru to introduce the real car in the US - the WRX. Until that point, Subaru had been satisfied selling a non-turbo car, sort of a tarted up Impreza. With the introduction of the low cost, high horsepower, all wheel drive WRX, Subaru upped the ante for all car manufacturers, much like Scott Bicycles got everyone going on frame weights by publicizing its frame weights so prominently.
Ironically his then teammate died of a brain tumor a couple years ago. And his team owner crashed the next day in a helicopter (but luckily walked away).
Now, when looking at cars, I see all sorts of WRX-prompted competition - Subaru's own STI (a hopped up WRX), Mitsubishi's Evolution, a number of larger AWD saloons (Subaru Legacy GT, MazdaSpeed6, the various Audi A4s), and a number of boosted similar sized cars (MazdaSpeed3, Mini Cooper S, Volvo's new C30, even the Caliber SRT4). A few cars haven't made it here yet - Ford never brought over their AWD Focus (to me a natural competitor to the WRX, thanks to the Playstation game) and of course we don't get some of the interesting European cars like Citroen, Alfa (not yet), or the smaller BMWs (but soon we will).
Anyway, all that was to make the point that normally, if such an illustrious and famous character in some sport or arena I tend to follow passes on, I'd make a note of it.
I didn't.
Some other breaking news hit the wires while I was in my haze of confusion and disarray. Yesterday afternoon I was passed out on the bed when my phone rang.
As a practical matter, I kept my phone next to me as I kept missing various calls because I couldn't stagger to the phone before whoever it was gave up on me. So answering the phone was a matter of groping for it, flipping it open (didn't recognize the phone number), and holding it to my ear vicinity.
"Hello?"
"Hey, were you sleeping?"
It was the other name on the blog, GMF.
"Yeah..."
"Oh. Sorry to wake you up. I thought you'd be all over this. Did you know they announced the Floyd verdict?"
My hazy brain tried to assimilate this. Floyd the airfield? Floyd, wasn't that a hurricane? Wait, it's got to be Floyd, the racer!
"No, I didn't hear."
Silence.
I could hear him trying to decide how to break the news to me.
"Well, what happened?", I asked, a bit anxious. After all, the whole blog got started because of our discussions on Floyd, doping, and all sorts of related stuff.
"Guilty, two year suspension."
At some level, it was a let down. I figured that would have been the outcome, but it would have been nice to be surprised. Like Bernanke and his half point cut. A nice surprise.
I pondered what I just heard.
CAS appeal, another year or two, and then in 2009 we'll crown Pereiro the 2006 Tour winner. Doesn't seem right.
For Floyd's sake, his financial sake, and for racing's sake, I hope he decides not to appeal.
Interestingly enough (and unfortunately for the whole sport), the arbitrators found that his initial ratio test was not carried out in a proper manner. If this is the case, at least from a legal point of view, the carbon isotope test never should have been carried out.
It's the latter that demonstrated he doped.
It's a legal question now. If the ratio test was properly done, perhaps the carbon isotope test wouldn't have been done. It's like getting evidence with a faulty search warrant. I'm no cop but according to the TV, evidence gotten without the proper paperwork is no evidence at all. Actually, since we don't get any TV, it's according to CSI Las Vegas (for which the future missus owns the various season DVDs) that evidence gotten without the proper paperwork is no evidence at all.
Therefore, Floyd's wallet notwithstanding, I think we'll be reading about an appeal at some point in the future.
If only it would be possible to lift this doping veil from cycling. All the confusion, uncertainty, and disarray gone. It's hard to remember what freshness feels like until it's gone and it comes back. Although cycling is a sport hard pressed to remember when it was "fresh", earlier generations of "doping" didn't alter a racer's ability to the point where you could make a mule into a race horse. In fact, some of the banned substances from back then are considered so harmless that they are now legal for use by cyclists.
Back then it seems like a good racer was a good racer. You read about the same guys week after week in the spring and then other guys week after week in the grand tours. They were inevitably helped by the same guys, racers who couldn't quite wield the finishing hammer but could get most of the framework done before dropping back.
I suppose it'll take a lot of money, perhaps some fresh faces. More vigorous testing, less rigid testing procedures (i.e. sometimes we'll do the ratio test, other times we'll go straight to the carbon isotope test), and a LOT more random tests. Tests virtually at the start line since that's when any doping would be most effective. Such start line tests would prevent last minute "topping up" of the system with blood (the racer's or someone else's) and force racers to have some semblence of normal hematocrit levels, not those controlled by blood thinners and such.
I'm no pro. But I have to believe that such a system would reward the clean racers. Dissuade the dirty ones. And, though the average speeds in the mountains might drop substantially, that's okay. It's the race between racers which is spectacular, not the race against the clock. I don't care if a stage averages 38 kph or 48 kph, as long as the last 10k is a elbow-throwing, shoulder bumping, tire touching mosh pit. And when it comes to climbs, the climbers will dance away from everyone else.
Wouldn't it be refreshing to see the climbers get shelled on the flat stages? And the time trialers get shelled on the climbs?
It goes without saying, of course, that the sprinters would be shelled anytime the race didn't end with 50 km of flat roads ending in a nice flat sprint.
Now, since I'm not a pro cyclist, for the second time this week, I have to get to work.
Apparently my brain is still feeling the after effects judging by what I just wrote. I suppose my aborted attempt at watching the Return of the King a couple weeks ago (the last time I watched even a portion of a movie) had something to do with that first paragraph.
At any rate my oblivion was such that I missed all sorts of things.
For example, a figurehead of the World Rally Championships passed away over the weekend. If anyone had told me during my haze that the famous Scottish rally racer Colin McRae had died, I'd have thought they were the ones possessed by evil spirits. However, sadly, McRae died in a helicopter crash (on Saturday, the point at which, I think, the blanket was descending but I was not aware of it just yet). He helped make the World Rally Championship part of American kids' vocabulary (although they just knew it as the "rally" part of the Playstation's Gran Turismo).
It was his driving and his charismatic character that made the blue Subarus (and Ford Focuses) so well known in the rallying world. This then prompted Subaru to introduce the real car in the US - the WRX. Until that point, Subaru had been satisfied selling a non-turbo car, sort of a tarted up Impreza. With the introduction of the low cost, high horsepower, all wheel drive WRX, Subaru upped the ante for all car manufacturers, much like Scott Bicycles got everyone going on frame weights by publicizing its frame weights so prominently.
Ironically his then teammate died of a brain tumor a couple years ago. And his team owner crashed the next day in a helicopter (but luckily walked away).
Now, when looking at cars, I see all sorts of WRX-prompted competition - Subaru's own STI (a hopped up WRX), Mitsubishi's Evolution, a number of larger AWD saloons (Subaru Legacy GT, MazdaSpeed6, the various Audi A4s), and a number of boosted similar sized cars (MazdaSpeed3, Mini Cooper S, Volvo's new C30, even the Caliber SRT4). A few cars haven't made it here yet - Ford never brought over their AWD Focus (to me a natural competitor to the WRX, thanks to the Playstation game) and of course we don't get some of the interesting European cars like Citroen, Alfa (not yet), or the smaller BMWs (but soon we will).
Anyway, all that was to make the point that normally, if such an illustrious and famous character in some sport or arena I tend to follow passes on, I'd make a note of it.
I didn't.
Some other breaking news hit the wires while I was in my haze of confusion and disarray. Yesterday afternoon I was passed out on the bed when my phone rang.
As a practical matter, I kept my phone next to me as I kept missing various calls because I couldn't stagger to the phone before whoever it was gave up on me. So answering the phone was a matter of groping for it, flipping it open (didn't recognize the phone number), and holding it to my ear vicinity.
"Hello?"
"Hey, were you sleeping?"
It was the other name on the blog, GMF.
"Yeah..."
"Oh. Sorry to wake you up. I thought you'd be all over this. Did you know they announced the Floyd verdict?"
My hazy brain tried to assimilate this. Floyd the airfield? Floyd, wasn't that a hurricane? Wait, it's got to be Floyd, the racer!
"No, I didn't hear."
Silence.
I could hear him trying to decide how to break the news to me.
"Well, what happened?", I asked, a bit anxious. After all, the whole blog got started because of our discussions on Floyd, doping, and all sorts of related stuff.
"Guilty, two year suspension."
At some level, it was a let down. I figured that would have been the outcome, but it would have been nice to be surprised. Like Bernanke and his half point cut. A nice surprise.
I pondered what I just heard.
CAS appeal, another year or two, and then in 2009 we'll crown Pereiro the 2006 Tour winner. Doesn't seem right.
For Floyd's sake, his financial sake, and for racing's sake, I hope he decides not to appeal.
Interestingly enough (and unfortunately for the whole sport), the arbitrators found that his initial ratio test was not carried out in a proper manner. If this is the case, at least from a legal point of view, the carbon isotope test never should have been carried out.
It's the latter that demonstrated he doped.
It's a legal question now. If the ratio test was properly done, perhaps the carbon isotope test wouldn't have been done. It's like getting evidence with a faulty search warrant. I'm no cop but according to the TV, evidence gotten without the proper paperwork is no evidence at all. Actually, since we don't get any TV, it's according to CSI Las Vegas (for which the future missus owns the various season DVDs) that evidence gotten without the proper paperwork is no evidence at all.
Therefore, Floyd's wallet notwithstanding, I think we'll be reading about an appeal at some point in the future.
If only it would be possible to lift this doping veil from cycling. All the confusion, uncertainty, and disarray gone. It's hard to remember what freshness feels like until it's gone and it comes back. Although cycling is a sport hard pressed to remember when it was "fresh", earlier generations of "doping" didn't alter a racer's ability to the point where you could make a mule into a race horse. In fact, some of the banned substances from back then are considered so harmless that they are now legal for use by cyclists.
Back then it seems like a good racer was a good racer. You read about the same guys week after week in the spring and then other guys week after week in the grand tours. They were inevitably helped by the same guys, racers who couldn't quite wield the finishing hammer but could get most of the framework done before dropping back.
I suppose it'll take a lot of money, perhaps some fresh faces. More vigorous testing, less rigid testing procedures (i.e. sometimes we'll do the ratio test, other times we'll go straight to the carbon isotope test), and a LOT more random tests. Tests virtually at the start line since that's when any doping would be most effective. Such start line tests would prevent last minute "topping up" of the system with blood (the racer's or someone else's) and force racers to have some semblence of normal hematocrit levels, not those controlled by blood thinners and such.
I'm no pro. But I have to believe that such a system would reward the clean racers. Dissuade the dirty ones. And, though the average speeds in the mountains might drop substantially, that's okay. It's the race between racers which is spectacular, not the race against the clock. I don't care if a stage averages 38 kph or 48 kph, as long as the last 10k is a elbow-throwing, shoulder bumping, tire touching mosh pit. And when it comes to climbs, the climbers will dance away from everyone else.
Wouldn't it be refreshing to see the climbers get shelled on the flat stages? And the time trialers get shelled on the climbs?
It goes without saying, of course, that the sprinters would be shelled anytime the race didn't end with 50 km of flat roads ending in a nice flat sprint.
Now, since I'm not a pro cyclist, for the second time this week, I have to get to work.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Life - Sick
It amazes me that whenever I feel a bit off, tired, maybe lack my normal appetite, I don't think anything of it. I seem to have explanations for everything. My throat gets a bit dry, I feel blah, well, I figure I've been working too hard. My muscles are sore - that's from not recovering enough. Then my glands swell up, I feel dizzy, and I'm exhausted, cold, and feverish all at once.
And I'm surprised.
With a relatively busy weekend coming up, and another much more important one coming up in two more weekends, I decided to be extremely conservative. Skip everything - working out, the walk, and work.
Warm clothes, hot tea, hot soup, rest and recover.
And I'm surprised.
With a relatively busy weekend coming up, and another much more important one coming up in two more weekends, I decided to be extremely conservative. Skip everything - working out, the walk, and work.
Warm clothes, hot tea, hot soup, rest and recover.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Life - Offseason, Upcoming Wedding
Things have been slow on my front here in Simsbury. The weather took a dramatic turn downwards (last night it was about 40 degrees F) and made for some chilly nights and a touch of a scratchy throat. The days are still moderately warm - about 70 each day, 80s in a couple days - so my body is a bit confused. Come to think of it, this is how it is out West in February.
No wonder I usually get sick out there.
Anyway, with a new town, distance from friends and family, and me not knowing too much of the area, we did some exploring, driving around, dropping into people's houses.
Yes, other people's houses.
Okay, I'll 'fess up. After we picked up the blue car (essentially to wipe the rust off the rotors as it's been sitting for a few weeks), we drove around and went to open houses (i.e. houses for sale where you can just drop in at certain scheduled hours). We stopped at virtually all the houses for which we saw signs, except for one that we realized was priced in the millions and not the hundreds of thousands.
Nothing really grabbed our attention although a few houses seemed really nice. Unfortunately, "nice" doesn't mean it had what we wanted, it simply meant the house was really nice. It's like me looking at a really nice 61 cm bike. Really nice, fine, but I need something about 10 cm shorter. Likewise, we found nice houses with no basement, no yard, or not enough garage space. One house, a "stop on a lark" house, was pretty big (about 4000 square feet), complete with a home gym, enormous kitchen, tiled inground pool, all sorts of fancy things including an intercom, and even a sauna.
It was also about 50% over our budget.
But the agent wouldn't let us know that - she firmly stated that she'll give us the paperwork (various papers describing the property) after the walk through. So we suffered through a walk through of a somewhat aging big house. Finally we got the papers - and the asking price on the house.
Granted, it wasn't as bad as we thought, but it was still way high.
I was trying to think of a way to politely end our charade when I heard the future missus tell the anxious agent, "Well, it seems like a really nice house but it's a bit small for our needs. We were really thinking of a four bedroom, not a three bedroom."
Cheeky, eh?
We felt bad about that so the future missus called our agent (who knew that house's agent) and mentioned that we'd dropped by in case the house agent started making noise about a couple looking at houses larger than 4000 square feet.
We had stopped at other houses. At one the agent left a note on the door - "Please look around, if you have any questions call me." It was scrawled in something resembling a 2nd grader's handwriting using perhaps a nail polish brush. It was no cheap house either, but it was on a very busy street. I can't imagine this helped sell the house.
I realized that there are a lot of odd houses out there. I suppose it's the way they age, a fashion thing. If I dressed up in Miami Vice stuff people would look at me oddly - but 20 years ago, I'd have been "cool". The same goes for these houses.
After house shopping we went to a somewhat local shop named Benidorm. I wanted to check out a few things including the World Championship Jersey there. I also figured they'd sell Sidi shoe parts - my turn buckle thing fell apart (the spring metal "pin" partially fell out, I lost the buckle part, and then the rest of the turn part fell off). I ordered one and watched as the guy behind the counter filled out a "special order form".
I used to have them just like it.
Good to know things still work the way they used to work.
While we were waiting at the counter I looked around for the Jersey. Lo and behold it was next to my head!
I read the pictures describing the Jersey (won by Jan Bolland in a TTT). The Worlds were held in Benidorm, Spain.
Ah, so that's where the weird name came from.
The Sidi things will be in at some point, which is fine. I have other shoes and I should probably make sure they're set up for the Look Keos I have since, if I actually start riding outside in inclement weather, it'll be nice to have three or more usable sets of Sidis. Right now I have one set (the turn buckle ones). I have one set (Zetas) which has a cracked cleat (over-zealous ham fisted mechanic... a.k.a. moi) and one set (Genius 5s) with my old SPD-R cleats on them (but otherwise in perfect shape). I'll mount some extra cleats on the G5s, put new uncracked cleats on the Zetas, and then I'll have three sets of shoes. This way I can ride in the rain and not obsess over drying out the shoes in time for the next ride.
Before we left, I asked for a couple catalogs - Cannondale's and Felt's. Normally I don't do such a thing since catalogs are typically in short supply and sometimes expensive. But I felt the need to catch up on Cannondale (they're local to the Bethel Spring Series) and Benidorm had a sub 15 pound Cannondale Super Six hanging just inside the front door to the shop. Felt is a different story - they sponsor Slipstream (a team that gives me better feelings than most others), the pictures of the Felts in Road Bike Action make the bike completely undesirable, but when I saw the bikes in person, well, they were cool. So I asked for a Felt catalog.
They have this interesting full suspension link thing which is supposed to counteract rear suspension bobbing. It's intriguing enough that I might have to go test ride a bike.
In the meantime, I've been doing some other stuff for my bikes. I went on eBay and picked up some crit bars (an extra - now I have one extra). If any more pop up, I'll probably buy the next one or two I see. Being soft, normal aluminum, these don't crack very easily and I expect them to last a while. I'll probably explore some new bars too so that when the world's supply of crit bars dries up, I'll be able to use something else.
I also picked up a track bar so my Riggio (or whatever my track bike ends up being) will have a proper track bar, not a left over Modolo forearm-bruising anatomic bar.
If I get my track act together, I'll eventually get proper wheels for the thing too.
I've been exploring getting fit in other ways too. The future missus and I walk regularly and on the days I feel a bit antsy, I'll actually run for a bit (a mile is a full "bit" in my dictionary). Today my shins are a bit sore but I ran to try and keep my heart rate up, not to try and preserve my legs. The problem is my heart rate doesn't go up easily so I have to run kind of hard to raise it. My non-running legs don't enjoy that too much so I'll have to stick to walking for a bit.
Finally we have one very big event coming up. My birthday.
Haha.
Okay, that's coming up too, but the big event is our wedding. We've been working out some of the details on that, finalizing things, and trying to make sure it'll run without a hitch. A lot of thought and planning is narrowing down to the early October date.
And now that I mention it, my birthday is coming up also, on this upcoming Sunday. The future missus is planning a get together for Saturday so that should be fun.
In the meantime I'll be doing my off season "general fitness" type things, getting my gear in gear, and looking at the Cannondale and Felt catalogs I picked up at Benidorm.
No wonder I usually get sick out there.
Anyway, with a new town, distance from friends and family, and me not knowing too much of the area, we did some exploring, driving around, dropping into people's houses.
Yes, other people's houses.
Okay, I'll 'fess up. After we picked up the blue car (essentially to wipe the rust off the rotors as it's been sitting for a few weeks), we drove around and went to open houses (i.e. houses for sale where you can just drop in at certain scheduled hours). We stopped at virtually all the houses for which we saw signs, except for one that we realized was priced in the millions and not the hundreds of thousands.
Nothing really grabbed our attention although a few houses seemed really nice. Unfortunately, "nice" doesn't mean it had what we wanted, it simply meant the house was really nice. It's like me looking at a really nice 61 cm bike. Really nice, fine, but I need something about 10 cm shorter. Likewise, we found nice houses with no basement, no yard, or not enough garage space. One house, a "stop on a lark" house, was pretty big (about 4000 square feet), complete with a home gym, enormous kitchen, tiled inground pool, all sorts of fancy things including an intercom, and even a sauna.
It was also about 50% over our budget.
But the agent wouldn't let us know that - she firmly stated that she'll give us the paperwork (various papers describing the property) after the walk through. So we suffered through a walk through of a somewhat aging big house. Finally we got the papers - and the asking price on the house.
Granted, it wasn't as bad as we thought, but it was still way high.
I was trying to think of a way to politely end our charade when I heard the future missus tell the anxious agent, "Well, it seems like a really nice house but it's a bit small for our needs. We were really thinking of a four bedroom, not a three bedroom."
Cheeky, eh?
We felt bad about that so the future missus called our agent (who knew that house's agent) and mentioned that we'd dropped by in case the house agent started making noise about a couple looking at houses larger than 4000 square feet.
We had stopped at other houses. At one the agent left a note on the door - "Please look around, if you have any questions call me." It was scrawled in something resembling a 2nd grader's handwriting using perhaps a nail polish brush. It was no cheap house either, but it was on a very busy street. I can't imagine this helped sell the house.
I realized that there are a lot of odd houses out there. I suppose it's the way they age, a fashion thing. If I dressed up in Miami Vice stuff people would look at me oddly - but 20 years ago, I'd have been "cool". The same goes for these houses.
After house shopping we went to a somewhat local shop named Benidorm. I wanted to check out a few things including the World Championship Jersey there. I also figured they'd sell Sidi shoe parts - my turn buckle thing fell apart (the spring metal "pin" partially fell out, I lost the buckle part, and then the rest of the turn part fell off). I ordered one and watched as the guy behind the counter filled out a "special order form".
I used to have them just like it.
Good to know things still work the way they used to work.
While we were waiting at the counter I looked around for the Jersey. Lo and behold it was next to my head!
I read the pictures describing the Jersey (won by Jan Bolland in a TTT). The Worlds were held in Benidorm, Spain.
Ah, so that's where the weird name came from.
The Sidi things will be in at some point, which is fine. I have other shoes and I should probably make sure they're set up for the Look Keos I have since, if I actually start riding outside in inclement weather, it'll be nice to have three or more usable sets of Sidis. Right now I have one set (the turn buckle ones). I have one set (Zetas) which has a cracked cleat (over-zealous ham fisted mechanic... a.k.a. moi) and one set (Genius 5s) with my old SPD-R cleats on them (but otherwise in perfect shape). I'll mount some extra cleats on the G5s, put new uncracked cleats on the Zetas, and then I'll have three sets of shoes. This way I can ride in the rain and not obsess over drying out the shoes in time for the next ride.
Before we left, I asked for a couple catalogs - Cannondale's and Felt's. Normally I don't do such a thing since catalogs are typically in short supply and sometimes expensive. But I felt the need to catch up on Cannondale (they're local to the Bethel Spring Series) and Benidorm had a sub 15 pound Cannondale Super Six hanging just inside the front door to the shop. Felt is a different story - they sponsor Slipstream (a team that gives me better feelings than most others), the pictures of the Felts in Road Bike Action make the bike completely undesirable, but when I saw the bikes in person, well, they were cool. So I asked for a Felt catalog.
They have this interesting full suspension link thing which is supposed to counteract rear suspension bobbing. It's intriguing enough that I might have to go test ride a bike.
In the meantime, I've been doing some other stuff for my bikes. I went on eBay and picked up some crit bars (an extra - now I have one extra). If any more pop up, I'll probably buy the next one or two I see. Being soft, normal aluminum, these don't crack very easily and I expect them to last a while. I'll probably explore some new bars too so that when the world's supply of crit bars dries up, I'll be able to use something else.
I also picked up a track bar so my Riggio (or whatever my track bike ends up being) will have a proper track bar, not a left over Modolo forearm-bruising anatomic bar.
If I get my track act together, I'll eventually get proper wheels for the thing too.
I've been exploring getting fit in other ways too. The future missus and I walk regularly and on the days I feel a bit antsy, I'll actually run for a bit (a mile is a full "bit" in my dictionary). Today my shins are a bit sore but I ran to try and keep my heart rate up, not to try and preserve my legs. The problem is my heart rate doesn't go up easily so I have to run kind of hard to raise it. My non-running legs don't enjoy that too much so I'll have to stick to walking for a bit.
Finally we have one very big event coming up. My birthday.
Haha.
Okay, that's coming up too, but the big event is our wedding. We've been working out some of the details on that, finalizing things, and trying to make sure it'll run without a hitch. A lot of thought and planning is narrowing down to the early October date.
And now that I mention it, my birthday is coming up also, on this upcoming Sunday. The future missus is planning a get together for Saturday so that should be fun.
In the meantime I'll be doing my off season "general fitness" type things, getting my gear in gear, and looking at the Cannondale and Felt catalogs I picked up at Benidorm.
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