My Outdoor Playground

Sharks

2009-11-29T23:42:00.001-05:00

Sharks. That’s what I likened us to as we zipped along in the brisk Autumn air, drilling it for the final climb before the official end of the Wednesday Night Worlds course. It was the Saturday before Thanksgiving and Team Athens had finally scheduled a Fall training ride that I was able to attend and I was pumped! I met Ben and Dale at the RT. 50/339 park and ride and we loaded up our bikes for the 45 minute commute to Athens. On the ride there we chatted about the latest race news, new bikes, and other developments since our last ride. We were to meet two other teammates in Athens and were planning on riding the Wednesday Night Worlds course (which I had never ridden before). I was a bit apprehensive about this ride for two reasons: For one I hadn’t been riding as much as I was during the season, but it seemed that everyone else had. And secondly we were riding with teammates I had never ridden with before and I wanted to be able to make a “good impression”. My apprehension melted away as we mounted up and headed out from Peden stadium. We had actually only been able to meet Dan so our group had shrunk to four riders. We headed out of Athens and hit the first hill, one of the largest we would encounter that day. We were warmed up already, so I moved to the front and rode tempo. When we crested I looked behind me to see that Dan was the only one who was able to hang on, and he was laboring pretty heavily. My grin was a mile wide as we flew down the backside of the hill and headed out into the farm country surrounding Athens. I guess you don’t actually lose fitness as quickly as you think because as we took turns taking 30 second pulls on the rolling course and our speed began picking up to 27-28mph in the flats we all began to feel pretty good. The hills were definitely the decisive advantages for me as Dan and I were continually able to drill it on the climbs and blow our small group to bits. However, we did unfortunately pay for it in the flats as Dale and Ben opened the throttle and left Dan and I struggling to keep up. As we flew through the countryside, I again thought of us as sharks. As soon as one of us faltered it was as if the others smelled blood in the water. The attacks came swift and fierce with no reprieve. I attacked on the climbs, opening up gaps of nearly a minute, Ben attacked in the flats, and Dale blew us away on the descents. Everyone was feeling quite “randy” and it showed in our pace. We made it to the end of the out and back course only 3 minutes off of the fastest mid summer pace from 2009. As we made the turn for the return trip, Ben instated the town sign sprint challenge. We would have 4 intermediate sprints for town signs on the return leg and things were about to get quite interesting. Mind you we had all anticipated this ride being a leisurely paced, late season training ride…however it never seems to turn out that way. We had close to 30 miles in our legs by the time the first sprint took place. Ben caught us unaware and easily took the win. We buzzed along enroute to the second sprint and were within a quarter mile when Dan took a valiant, albeit early flyer off the front. I waited an additional 30 seconds before charging after him, riding tempo several bike lengths back. I timed the catch and opened my sprint 200 yards from the sign to take a clear bike length victory with my arms spread wide in the typical cycling salute. A mile and a half from the third sprint Ben pulled to the front and cranked the speed up to nearly 30mph. We hung on for nearly a mile until he attacked on a small rise and split the group. It seemed as though he was free and clear, so we saw him ease up a bit in the distance. As we rounded a bend in the road, a quarter mile separated us from the town sign, with Ben nearly halfway there. Dale and Dan were spent but I clicked up a few gears and began cranking for what seemed an impossible catch. Ben was sitting up coasting as I let out a banshee yell and crossed the line abreast of him, having sprinted nearly the entire way. He looked at me as if I were a ghost and then expressed disbelief that I had caught up to him in that short distance. Finally, nothing was left but the final town sign which also happened to mark the official end of the Worlds course. We all four used the next several miles to recover and enjoyed the scenery a bit before the final push to the finish began. About 12 miles out from the sign, Ben and Dan moved up to the front and began setting a blistering pace. Dale and I struggled a bit, they smelled blood and took off. I rode tempo and kept them within 15 seconds as we began a small gradual climb out of one of the valleys. They were working together and Dale had since dropped off the pace, so it was just me, the road, and the pain. We were entering the realm of pain that I had been in during this past year’s races, however the plus side was that not until this point had I approached the red zone and it was obvious that I had a residual fitness that far outlasted the end of the race season. By this point, Ben and Dan believed they had it wrapped up. I saw them crest and sit up a bit to recover…bad move. I saw my chance and attacked, charging over the top at full bore. I was out of the saddle and cranking hard as I pulled in behind them for a split second, clicked up a gear, and attacked on around them. They had no idea what just happened and I had 30 seconds on them before they could begin to organize a response. I put my head down and gave it everything I had for 10 miles, growing my lead to over a minute at one point. However, even with as good as I was feeling, I still was lacking that long term lactate threshold that I had over the summer. A mile before the final climb, my speed was waning and I was finally caught. Ben pulled up next to me looked over and uttered one word…”Owww”. I knew what he meant. Even though it was hard on me out front, I had made them chase at an unbelievable pace and I was sure it had hurt. I lost it on the final climb to the sign. I hung on until midway up when Ben attacked and willingly surrendered my post at the front. I rode tempo to the top and took a respectable third for the day. We rode a cool down lap of Athens and headed home feeling quite satisfied from the day’s festivities. I mused to myself on the way home that racers, much like predators are exceedingly good at reading body language. When a predator notices a laboring animal of prey, it capitalizes on that weakness. Bicycle racers do the same thing, friend or foe in each race/training situation. I can only hope that come the 2010 race season, I will be one of the attackers rather than the prey. Only time will tell…

Off Seasons and Passion

2009-11-01T21:09:00.001-05:00

It has been some time since I last posted and alot has been happening in our life since then! Lets see, the quick and dirty version: The race season ended, I started riding cyclocross, I was let go from my job with Microbac, we had Gideon at home, and I started my writing business and get to see my family all day, every day as I now happily work from home exclusively. Oh, and I am writing this from my office in our new house in Devola...so there ya go, haha.

I had been slowing down a bit on the bike, really taking the "Off season" literally. I was riding a few times a week, but the intensity was waning. Which was fine since I was really just concerned with maintaining my base and focusing on the immenent arrival of our second child. You could say that my enthusiasm for training was decreasing with the drop in temperature. But I was also in an "Off Season" of life and work. I was complacent, getting things done, but only out of necessity, not because I was passionate about them anymore. We all do it: get comfortable in "Life". Well, when I walked into my office at Microbac one fateful Friday morning and learned that the marketing division was getting downsized, God gave me a swift kick in the rear. I took the news from our Managing Director just fine. He explained we didnt have the work to maintain my position, and apologetically said they would have to let me go. I was a bit stunned, but shook his hand, thanked him, and assured him that we (my family) would be fine. I walked out of the office that day with a new lease on my life.

I almost immediately made the decision to pursue my writing career, but only with Elizabeth's blessing. So after Elizabeth and I talked it over and she emphatically encouraged me to pursue the writing business I knew that is what God had in mind for us. Through the months leading up to my job loss, I had been securing contracts left and right. Literally at times it seemed that I was overrun with freelance work on the side. I had even thought that if things stayed this way, within a year I would need to decide whether or not to pursue my writing career or stay with Microbac. I simply wouldnt have time for both. I have now decided that God was preparing our family for the layoff and setting the stage for me to launch the next portion of my career. I work harder than ever now, but I relish it. I love writing, I love my job, and most of all, I love my life. Elizabeth, the boys and I emerged from my job loss a stronger, happier family and I am finally able to pursue a business that is truly suited to my strengths. I work nearly 100 hours a week sometimes, but I am completely fulfilled with what I am doing (and the money aint bad either ;) ). I know that the harder I work truly does equate to a higher paycheck, more contracts later, and/or return customers. Its hard to imagine doing anything else at this point and you know what? I have my PASSION back. The passion to work hard and pursue my potential.

You may think, what does this have to do with biking? It has everything to do with it. When I was finally able to get out on a ride with a couple friends (one of which is probably reading ;) ), I finally regained my passion for the bike as well. We rode for the simple joy of riding. We werent racing, there was no money at stake, and we weren't thinking about our heart rate zones. We just were RIDING. The route was a smooth out-and-back on a blustery day last week. We started out of town with the wind howling in our ears and rain threatening. I was on a borrowed wheelset (mine was toast from the race season. New ones on order...) and hadnt been out for over a week. But it was all so familiar. I donned my helmet, long finger gloves, knee and arm warmers. As I clipped in, I settled into that comfortable position that my body instinctively adopted on the road bike. We headed out in single file line, clipping along at a comfortable pace. As my muscles heated up, I remembered. I remembered the group rides, races, comaradarie, the wins, and the losses. What had seemed so distant as I stared out the window of my warm and cozy office, now seemed so familiar. It was exhilirating! As we returned, I attacked at the bottom of the bridge heading back into St. Mary's. I wasnt attacking my companions, I was attacking complacency, mediocraty, and my slower, softer self. For nearly a quarter mile I danced on the pedals, drowning out the pain I felt in my legs and lungs by screaming in my head to push harder, go longer, do more. It wasnt my best or fastest effort by far, but it was enough. I finally pushed past the point of pain into the realm of ecstasy. That point where nothing hurts anymore, you dont notice being out of breath or your legs hurting. You just are riding and loving it. I had finally regained my passion for The Ride.

The parallels between my return to riding and my eye opening career experience are numerous, but the one that sticks out in my mind is the resurgance of passion. Passion for what I am doing, how I am living, and my purpose in life. God is truly at work each day, even if we dont understand or recognize it at the time. My goal in writing this blog has never been self advancement or in any way to serve myself. I hope that through my musings on riding and every day life that someone else's day/life can be uplifted in some way. As I close tonight, I hope that in some small aspect that you too can regain a passion for something you have been missing.

"Live with no excuses and love with no regrets"-Montel

Bring it...

2009-09-28T15:54:00.000-04:00

Ah, cyclocross. Everyone needs to at least try it. Even just practicing for 'cross races, is dirty, hard, and incredibly fun. Its a sport centered around drilling it at redline for short amounts of time on sketchy, if not impossible to ride, surfaces. I have not raced cyclocross as of yet, but I have been training with a specific interest in racing lately. I am not extremely or even slightly good. My dismounts are smooth and my run-ups fairly fast, but my remounts are akin to watching a toddler trying to mount a moving tricycle. They are slow, awkward, and a few times have ended in painstakingly slow crashes. But never before has such a frustrating experience inspired such a desire/love for a sport.

Cyclocross is said to be a subculture within the mother of all subcultures. Bicycle racers are already crazy, but cyclocross seems to bring out the real loonies, and I am more than happy to count myself among them. I mountain bike for the beauty and technicality of trails, but road bike for the speed, and cyclocross is the glorious marriage of the best of both worlds. Riding modified road bikes with knobby tires, 'cross riders can tackle any type of terrain at ridiculously high speeds. Anything they can't ride, they run up...thats right, none of that hike a bike stuff. They just bolt right over whatever is in their path and keep going. Its the simplest, purest form of biking that I can think of. You dont think or worry about what kind of route you are heading out the door to ride. You simply go where you want to: trail or road, it just doesnt matter.

Now in all actuality this is the way biking should be, but as a mountain biker-turned-road biker I fell into that group that felt skinny tires and drop handlebars were merely a "road" modification. We treat our road bikes as if their tires would explode if we happened to ride them on a gravel road or through a grassy field. The only time we bunny hop was...oh wait...never. I had heard that riding 'cross would improve both your fitness and handling (on and off road) skills in a short amount of time. Plus I was just burnt out on long road rides or tough trail rides. I needed something different to keep me interested in progressing.

Enter my commuter-turned-cyclocross bike! From the myriad of parts I had in my basement I set about putting together a bike that I could race 'cross on AND use as a commuter during the winter. I pulled together an old steel fork and frame, a slightly out of true wheelset, and a mixture of MTB and road bike parts to build the most glorious CX bike ever (in my eyes)! My CX bike is not light, nor does it come with the newest or best components, however it gets the job done and I love it. I have found that I adore swooping through some of Marietta's tightest singletrack hanging on for dear life to the drop bars. I have gotten the hang of bunny hopping this skinny-wheeled machine of mayhem (after only a few mishaps...) and happen to like dismounting and throwing the frame over my shoulder as I run up the steeper parts of trail. There also is nothing like the feeling of scooting into an off-camber, muddy corner at 25mph praying that my tiny tires with their miniscule knobs don't roll off the rim and throw me into the trees.

However, I am lucky my cyclocross bike is a beater. Everyone needs a "beater" bike. We all need a bike that we can take out in the rain, try new skills on, and ride around town without feeling the need to lock it to a lightpost and pull the seat off each time you go into a store. I have crashed on dirt, grass, gravel, and even pavement and none are truly "soft". Last week I wrecked on a trail and somehow whacked my helmet hard enough to pop the "Securelock" head harness loose from the helmet body. But I always get up smiling. I am just enjoying the experience of learning this new sport and the freedom/breath of fresh air it has given me in one of my favorite past times: cycling. Had I purchased a new CX bike, I doubt I would be having as much fun. I would be a bit more timid or less aggressive as I wouldnt want to damage the new bike. But with my built CX bike, I can ride it like a 'crosser is supposed to be ridden. If I break something, I probably have a spare that will fit it and if not, it isnt going to cost me a fortune to replace it (one of the perks of using outdated equipment).

The benefits of riding 'cross are also starting to show already. Today I left the CX bike at home in lieu of my road bike. I was a bit sore from my 'cross workout yesterday (I have a few bruises to show for it) and thought that I should take the roadie out for a spin since I had been off of it for a couple weeks. As soon as I started out I knew I had improved. In just the short amount of time I had been riding 'cross, it made my road handling more confident and "tighter". I buzzed down the road not wavering an inch. I could ride the whiteline for miles, literally! In turns I was able to push through, holding a tight arc, rather than sweeping in or out slightly as I searched for a decent line. I was truly amazed at the improvement in handling, however I was even more amazed at the increase in power. When I hit the gas in the straights, I really took off! Its like I found another gear that my body never knew it had. On sections of road where I normally would barely break 21mph, I was able to AVERAGE 25mph...no drafting, just me turning the pedals. I found myself searching for more gears almost constantly as I hammered along, barely feeling the effort. My legs are definitely stronger, but my aerobic capacity is well beyond what my muscles could possibly propel me at. When I stopped, I was barely out of breath and recovered almost instantly. Whether it has been the time off of my "typical" training schedule or because I have been working at training for cyclocross (or both) I dont care. I just know that this diesel engine is adapting itself into a race car and challengers better watch out. It's time to bring it!

Ride On

2009-09-15T08:49:00.000-04:00

Its been awhile since I updated, mainly because things have been pretty busy around the Miller household lately. Preparing for the baby, visiting family, and just living life in general sometimes takes precedent over riding/training.

However, while I am not on the bike as much as I was during the race season, I still get out for some long rides and the weekly Thursday Throwdowns. Recently on one of the Throwdown rides we chose a different route on a whim and I discovered my new, very-most favorite climb in the area. Fifteen miles into the hill country of Washington county near Warner, OH lies 2.5 miles of uphill bliss. As I write this I realize that some of you will be scoffing or rolling your eyes at my love for climbing. Thats fine. I realize that not everyone likes hills and in fact many people hate them. My love affair with climbing has simply grown because I realized I was good at it. Let me translate that: I just hurt LESS on climbs than some other people. I cant explain why or how this came about really, I just like to climb. Even on group rides I am mocked because I am fairly drooling when I see the road rising upward in the distance. The group parts, lets me take the front, and hangs on for dear life as I chase the "high" of full force effort on rising gradients. I regularly emerge alone at the top, not even realizing I had shed my companions at some point in the past few miles. Sometimes I will wait at the top, reminiscing over the climb but other times I coast back down and ride back to the top with the group (although I dont do this too much on the Throwdown rides for fear of being cursed at as others suffer up the pitch...). I like climbing, and I LOVE the State Rt.530 climb out of Warner, OH. The route we took was a bomber hill down through Bonn which leads you into Salem and then you go through a few rollers before you get to Warner. From Warner you make a sweeping left hand turn onto Rt.530 where the road goes up...and up and up and up. The first half mile or so is the toughest with the average grade hovering around 10%. At the first of three switchback turns the grade jumps to somewhere in the mid-teens and then flattens out to a maintained 6-7% for the final 1.5 miles.

The climb went something like this: I sat in and recovered on the rollers into Warner. In Warner everyone's pace slowed and the group bunched up in anticipation of the climb. We hit the first pitch of the climb and I exploded out of the saddle until the first switchback. Alone, I rolled through the switchback and found a comfortable spinning gear. I maintained a high cadence through the remainder of the climb and enjoyed the scenery (there are some nice vistas on the way up) until I topped out. I waited for several minutes and then the group came back together in ones and twos. I told them how awesome the climb was and how much I enjoyed it. They shook their heads and told me how much they hated me. We rode on.

My penance for enjoying climbing was then getting pounded in the flats. It seems as if when the road flattens out, its like a rule that any guy over six feet tall moves up to the front of the group and spins his giant tree trunk legs until I want to puke. For all the power I have on climbs, I cant seem to make any sort of move stick on the flats. I can chase back on to breakaways and hold my own through flat sections, but as far as putting anyone into difficulty when the gradient is 0%...I pretty much am useless. So as I giggled through the hills and reveled in my opportunistic power, my companions took the opportunity to trample me into the dirt on the flat return home. We arrived back at the parking lot and everyone talked of how awesome the ride was, especially the last section. I shake my head and tell them how much I hate them. We laugh, part ways, and plan on returning next week because as always: We ride on.

Millimeters...

2009-09-02T09:32:00.000-04:00

I'm back! Finally, after several weeks of feeling slower than I thought I should, I am finally back!

I don't know if I publicized this much or not but at the beginning of the season I was having a bit of back and knee pain. Did you know you weren't supposed to have pain when you ride? Yeah, really! I had never thought about it before because I just assumed that any little aches and pains I had were associated with the effort I was putting in, but turns out its because I was pedaling wrong. I had read an article on velonews.com regarding fitting your bike according to biomechanics instead of the typical KOPS method and was intrigued. Since I was in a bit of pain all the time anyways...and its really boring sitting on a trainer every night...I decided to use the biomechanics method just to check out my bike fit. This involved several trainer sessions of sitting in front of a video camera and then viewing the video and analyzing my pedal stroke at various positions. There are alot of ins and outs of this method, but lets suffice it to say that I was "all over the place" with regards to pedaling efficiency. I kicked one knee out to the side a bit at the top of my stroke, turned my toes in at the bottom of each stroke, and was hunched way too far over my handlebars. After analyzing my bikefit I realized that my position was leading to my pain, and not only that but I was losing valuable watts and tons of energy because of it. If you are not fitted right you bounce or rock too much in the hips, which kills momentum and really lowers your all day fitness and I looked like a bobble-headed hula dancer floating on around my saddle.

So I got down to business. I adjusted my seat, stem, and handlebar position in painstaking millimeter increments until everything felt "just right". Then I worked on my pedal stroke. I adjusted my cleat position and began to focus my pedaling to bring my knees straight up and down, keep my leg from twisting in the middle of the stroke, and to keep my toes pointed straight forward all the time. Guess what happened? Once I was dialed in there was no pain, nada, zilch. My pedal stroke was smooth and I no longer rocked in the hips. My wattage and lactate threshold increased notably and I could stay in the saddle all day long if I wanted. I was elated! This new position was amazing and I started the season out in it full of confidence...then I sold that bike. I purchased a new bike mid-season and hastily threw together a position that looked and felt similar to my old one, but I didnt take the time to put it together right. I made it through my season well enough and usually felt pretty good on long rides and in races, but lately I had begun to feel that all too familiar pain creeping back into my knee and I was beginning to "lose my back" on some of our longer/harder forays. At first I attributed this to being past my peak and figured that with some rest I would be back good as new. Turns out that wasn't the case as my numbers continued to fall even after plenty of rest and recovery. Every time I mounted my mountain bike it was like a breath of fresh air (I had dialed this position in early on in the season). I felt like I could put hour upon hour in on the MTB but as soon as I got back on the roadie I felt sluggish and tired.

So with races over for the year and a bit more time at home on my hands, I went to work on my road position on my new bike. I again adjusted my position millimeter by painstaking millimeter until...finally today it is dialed in perfectly again. I commuted into work this morning without the slightest bit of warmth in my lower back. When I went out on lunch, I hammered for over an hour and ended the ride still feeling fresh. I mount my bike now as if it was a piece of a puzzle that I fit perfectly. I have no back pain, no knee pain, and feel as if I can (and will) spend hours in the saddle "on the rivet" once again. Its amazing how a single millimeter one way or another can make such a big difference, but believe me it can. My average speed on a few of my typical training routes has risen to near mid-season levels and my attacks again have some punch to them.

So I guess I send this out as a friendly reminder that you should feel as comfortable riding your bike as you do walking. If something hurts or doesn't feel quite right, it probably isn't. The good news is there are tons of little things that can be done to make your ride much more comfortable. None of the shops around here offer the biomechanics fit, but they can at least get you close. From there its all about the millimeters. Experiment a little here and there. Your body will tell you what's working and what is not. If you need or want help, I would be more than happy to work with you on it a bit. Just don't ride in pain...cycling is so much more fun if you don't!

Chapters

2009-09-01T06:02:00.001-04:00

I finally got back out on the road bike today after a several day hiatus following last Thursday's group ride. Like an old sports car burning carbon out of its engine, the further along I went and the harder I hammered, the better I felt. Finally by the end of the ride, I was starting to feel "on form" and could accelerate, climb, and sprint like it was mid-season again. But alas, it is not mid-season...

Temperatures the past few days have been dipping down into the fifties and it is beginning to feel more and more like Fall. I broke out the tights and arm warmers to commute into work this morning and the lunch ride was in the midst of strong, slightly cool winds. Dont get me wrong, I love Fall. I love cool mornings and evenings, layering up in warm clothes, hot chocolate, pumpkin pie, family, hunting and camping, and of course the holidays. But this year the coming of Fall is bittersweet. It is a happy time because of all the things I love about this time of year PLUS my beautiful new child will be entering the world in October. And while I am overjoyed and excited for that event and to spend time with my family during the holidays, I am sad to see Summer and my racing season pass on. With the cooler temperatures comes a drop in intensity fueled by long term fatigue and a semi-depressive feeling of realizing my peak is over and I am back to pre-season fitness. Attacks are shorter and less vicious, I am pushing smaller gears in packs and on the hills, and have settled into a post/pre-season pace significantly slower than my mid-summer training pace.

While our Thursday rides have been ramping up in intensity, there are fewer email requests for other rides during the week. The pack on group rides feels a bit more sluggish, almost tired following non-stop weekends of racing for nearly five months. Our strengths seem to stay the same relative to one another. I am still referred to as "Contador" and can open gaps on the climbs, but our overall pace has slowed and in the flats/rolling hills I am more vulnerable to attacks as I am slower to recover. The cooler temperatures coupled with our fatigue seems to draw our legs to a slower cadence and longer, easier miles as we no longer need the race intensity. We are now building our "aerobic engines" and while we all know this is an integral part to our overall fitness next Spring, it signals the beginning of the most boring and monotonous portion of our yearly training programs. Base miles build your endurance and the overall time you can spend in the saddle, but they are usually spent on flatter "less exciting" routes than race workouts and will eventually end up being on the trainer during the dead of winter.

Fall is a time for recovery miles, long "leaf tours", and getting lost on that dirt road that you have been passing up all summer long. As cyclists we futilely try to hang on to the last remnants of summer, staying out late on the weekly Throwdown, utilizing every waning ray of warm sunshine to hit a trail, road, or path. Fall will come and go, followed by winter. We will be holed up inside our snuggly warm houses, putting miles and hours in on the trainer in dank basements, spare bedrooms, or garages. We will perform maintenance we have "put off all summer" and completely tear down and overhaul bikes, drivetrains, and wheelsets. Christmas will be a time for new equipment purchases and our families and significant others will shake their heads at our glee for a new set of wheels, cassette, or some other "thingamijig" they dont recognize. As the snow piles up outside, we will assemble our "race bike" with all of our newest gadgets. It will sit in our garage (or even living room...) for months in all of its insanely-fast racing glory, and will constantly be used as a conversation piece...no matter how many times your in-laws have heard about it. Until finally one day, when we are going completely off-the-wall-bananas-bonkers-crazy sitting and spinning on that infernal trainer for yet another training session...we will glance outside and realize that the pavement is once again calling our name. The snow will recede, the pavement/trails will dry off, and with the happiness of children eating ice cream for the first time we will hit the roads with a fervor built up from months of riding indoors. There will be group rides, early races, long days in the saddle as the earth warms back up and each of us struggles to return our slightly softer winter bodies back into finely tuned/cut race machines.

So Summer, while it seems at times in the midst of heat waves and midafternoon thunderstorms you and I were more enemies than friends, I will truly miss you. You carry with you friends and memories that will seem to grow faint during the darkness of winter, but I will fear not! For I will prepare earnestly and upon your return will emerge a stronger, more victorious rider than when we last met. Summer, I bid you ado and welcome in the Fall, the next chapter of this game we call Life!

All about the Glory

2009-08-28T14:27:00.001-04:00

So, I was dropped this past Thursday night at the local "Throwdown". This was the first time...ever...that in a non-race situation I had been dropped from the lead pack. Let me start out by clarifying that when I first started attending these rides the demeanor was a bit more...low-key. It was just a buncha guys getting together to put some miles in their legs. Since then the intensity and quality of the ride/riders at The Throwdown has increased...SIGNIFICANTLY.

Case in point: Last week we rode in torrential downpours for two hours. I was in the night's two main breakaways and then consequently crashed when we had just gotten inside city limits. Of the seven starters for the evening, only three made it into town unscathed and I was only the fourth rider to complete the entire ride, albeit via an in town pickup because my wheel was toast. Normally, you would think that this type of insanity would begin decreasing our turnout each week, however this past Thursday we increased our group size to nine (although several riders from the week before opted out of this ride). Of the nine that started, eight finished. One guy dropped out within the first ten miles due to the intensity and a severe nosebleed, I heard that two other guys puked, I witnessed one guy vomit up nothing but water, and I myself cramped up so bad on the flat run in to home that I was dropped from the front pack, rolling in sixth for the night. There were no wrecks, but a few close calls and despite what you just read, everyone had a blast!

As always, we started at the corner of Colegate and Glendale next to the firestation. The normal late summer route is up Glendale connecting to Rt. 821, shooting off on CR8 and heading into Lowell. We then ease on home on River Road. This is the late summer route because it has right around 2000' of climbing over 33 miles, with 1200' coming in the first 12 miles. Its got something for everybody with lots of climbing, several rollers, and even some nice long flats. Thanks to our "rain ride" last week, I had been battling a cold which kept me off of the bike for most of the week leading up to Thursday's ride. I commuted into work on Thursday and was not really feeling that great, but I did 18 easy miles at lunch to see if that would help. For awhile I thought it did...

We headed out Glendale and everyone was taking it fairly easy. It was hot and we were all feeling the races from the previous weekend. When we started into the real climbing, the pace quickened a bit and I was comfortably tucked into the bunch. When we hit the steepest part of the climb and our pace had still not increased substantially, I came around the outside and accelerated. It was a hard attack, but not all out as we were only a handful of miles into the night. I easily popped off the front with a 200-300 yard gap and then just rode my tempo through the remainder of the climbs. When I reached the top, I was all alone but slowed up and allowed the small group of three riders who were actually chasing to catch on. We hammered on through a few rollers and soft pedaled at the base of the next climb to try to let the group come back together. However, we never did all come together again, my initial attack and the resulting chase having decimated the back of the field.

We started climbing again and I was beginning to feel the overall fatigue associated with racing and/or being sick. I tucked in and allowed other guys to set the pace for awhile. Pretty soon it was just three of us off the front striking out on our own to the next "checkpoint" (the junction of Rt. 530 and CR8). We were flying through the rolling countryside, clocking over 25mph as we crested hills. Apparently this was when the guy who dropped out got his nose bleed and when one of the other riders stopped to puke up his energy bars and gatorade alongside the road. What had started as a friendly group ride had quickly entered the "Take-no-prisoners" realm. The front group of three made it to the checkpoint in a bunch and we all took the opportunity to rest our legs, stretch, and drink some more water. I was down to a single bottle already and we werent halfway yet.

The rest of the pack came straggling up one to two at a time and we all chatted. One of the last guys to show up stops, unclips, turns his head and vomits in the grass next to us. It didnt look like anything more than water and he acted as if nothing had happened so we headed on down the road, enroute for the worst climb of the night. I entered the climb third in line and was able to maintain a steady, but medium pace to answer the eventual acceleration of the front guy. We dropped the group and crested with a single chaser a few yards back. The three of us came together and then started drilling the rolling hills on our way to Lowell. I was starting to really feel bad during this section, but was able to accelerate enough to hang with the leader and eventually drop our third companion (who later said he stopped and also threw up...) a few miles before Lowell. As we entered the descending section of the course into Lowell, I attacked and came around the leader. I rolled down into town alone, with the other rider coming in a few seconds behind me.

We waited in Lowell for the group to come together again and finally for the first time in 20 miles all eight of us rolled out in a pack, heading to River Road and home. I knew a few of the "mountain bikers" in the group had really been feeling the pain and overheard them "hatching a plan" as we crossed the bridge out of Lowell. As soon as we hit River Road, one mountain biker attacked, knowing that he had a flat 13 miles heading into Marietta. He pulled a slight gap on the front and the group sluggishly responded. Everyone was in some realm of hurt at this point, it just was a matter of the degree of pain. We eventually pulled the attacker back in, but no sooner had we done that when another mountain biker jumped off the front to have a go. We responded quicker this time, with myself and Ben hanging right on his wheel. This is when it starts to get blurry for me as I was beginning to cramp up. Being sick + not enough water/food + close to 60 miles in the hot sun that day all began to add up to equal a bad night. I hung onto the group for several miles as we averaged between 25-27mph. But as we rounded a turn, one of the front guys surged to just over 30mph and held it. I futilely tried to maintain the pace for a few pedal strokes, but I was at the point I knew I had been headed for all night. My hamstrings, calves, and quads were now all cramping at once, sometimes making it almost impossible to turn the pedals over. I pulled to the left out of the paceline and waved the guy behind me through. It was Dale. He had ridden with me several times and never had he witnessed a sign of weakness or fatigue. It was fairly obvious that he couldnt believe what he was seeing as he pulled up next to me and looked at me like I had three heads. I halfway grinned and shook my head and the group sped on without me.

I then began the slow (20mph), cramp-filled journey home by myself. There were a few straggling riders behind me, but I would not see them again until we got back into town. Never has six miles seemed so long or boring. At each rise in the road, I fought with my muscles to put forth effort without going into violent cramps that at times nearly drove me off my bike. I finally rolled into town and headed home for homemade potato soup and a hot shower, thoroughly spent but grinning nonetheless.

You may be thinking, "Grinning?! How could you possibly be grinning after an ordeal like that? Your Thursday rides dont even sound fun!" I am able to grin because I know that I (and everyone else there) gave it their all. Thursday nights are turning out to be harder than 75% of the races I entered this year. We dont race for money or trophies, but simply for the heck of it. Thursday rides are gritty, full of passion, and downright horrendous at times. The only time anyone works together is to bring back a breakaway and past that everyone is pitted against everyone else. There are some tactics involved, but even more so this is the time to really "open up the throttle" and see how hard you can go. If you arent pushing the limit, then why even come out. So yeah, I was dropped. I attacked too early, didnt drink or eat enough, went too hard while on the front. I threw caution to the wind and conserved nothing. This week it didnt pay off, but it has in the past and it will in the future. I dont show up to Thursday night rides to polish up my tactics or to sit in all night. At The Throwdown its all about the glory and if you aren't prepared to go down "guns ablazing", then maybe you really didnt want to ride with us after all...

The Granville Win!

2009-08-24T12:10:00.000-04:00

Victory salutes are maybe the one most universally understood symbols in cycling today. It doesn't matter if you are out on a hilly lone training ride, sprinting for town signs with you buddies, or just taking a spin around the block, there are times when everyone has felt like sitting up and spreading their arms wide as they coast down the imaginary line of barriers to the finish, their ears filled with the imaginary cacophony of raucous applause. I have seen mountain bikers, country road tourers, and pig-tailed girls on training wheel equipped bikes throw up their arms and look to the sky in a symbol of elation at the accomplishment of any number of personal goals. And just like in other sports, ProTour riders have taken the liberty of developing their own victory salute "style". Take for instance Lance Armstrong's appearance of nonchalance (and some say arrogance) at the end of his stage wins. He does a few fist pumps, grits his teeth, and acts almost as if he knew he had the win every time (regardless of how hard he worked for it). Then there is Contador "el Pistolero" who refuses to put down that pop-gun as he comes across the line. However, my favorites are not the confident, scripted victory salutes, but the explosions of elation at the end of a hard stage when an underdog, domestique, or breakaway artist takes the win. These are the guys who have worked either all day or their entire careers for a win, a chance to be in the spotlight. Many times they may have been close, but due to other limiting circumstances were unable to capitalize on taking the overall win...and then one day it just all works out. These victory salutes are anything but scripted. Sometimes you see tears of joy, sometimes the rider can barely pedal across the line, but of course you always see this unbelievable happiness as they see all of their hard work and dedication pay off.

Well folks, I finally was able to experience that feeling this past weekend. The Granville, Ohio Circuit Race was my final race of the season. There were a few other races here and there into September, but as far as the racing calendar goes, road racing had all but dried up by this weekend. Which actually was ok by me as I was starting to feel the fatigue of the race season and had been out of town at races every weekend for over a month. I was ready for a break and really ready to start on just building some Fall base miles in anticipation of next year. Thanks to the tanking economy, a criterium I had signed up for this week was cancelled so the organizers put together a circuit style road race for the following weekend. I was pretty excited about this simply because criteriums are not my cup of tea and I had heard there could be some climbing on the circuit race course.

Thankfully I had managed to put myself and bike back together after Thursday's crash and Elizabeth, Paul and I arrived at the race parking lot a little over an hour ahead of time so I could get a good warm up in and do some route reconniasance. The route was a 7 mile loop of local roads, half of which were closed completely and the other half were open to traffic. I pinned my number on, stretched a bit, and then struck out on the course to see what we were up against. I was feeling very little apprehension over this race as I was fairly unconcerned with results. I of course wanted to do well, but it was the last race of the season and I was pleased with my placings thus far. I was going into this race with an overwhelming state of calm and was just interested in a good workout. The course was rolling, with great pavement and four 90 degree right hand turns. The first 3 or so miles were fairly flat with a few small kickers, but nothing that was going to separate the pack. However, the next 3 miles were full of long sustained climbs before the 1 mile downhill to the finish. The finish itself was right after the last right hand turn and had an 1/8th mile false-flat sprint for the line. As I was out warming up, I was getting more and more excited. This course really did seem to fit my strengths. The climbs werent "sit-and-spins" but they were sustained gradients for around 3/4mile at a time, definitely enough to separate a pack and definitely suited to my climbing style. The finish was also fairly well suited for me as it was slightly uphill and had a long run-in that would benefit my "time trial"-like sprint a bit more than the explosive powerhouse style of the crit racers typical of this area. I finished my loop of the course and came back to the finish line for a few sprints. I downed a couple bottles, had an energy bar, and lined up awaiting our 10:30am start time. This race was considerably smaller than the other Ohio races I had been in with around 30 competitors lining up, but from the looks of those that showed, we weren't just going out for a "friendly group ride" either. It was near the end of EVERYONE's season, so it was really only the guys that REALLY wanted to race that showed up. And while there were several unfamiliar faces today, I still knew a few of the riders well enough to realize this race was gonna hurt.

My strategy for this race was going to be a test of my patience. I was going to sit in the entire race and then attack on the hilly portion of the course on one of the final laps (or I would wait for a sprint finish depending on how strong the field seemed at that point). Essentially the game plan of the day was: conserve, conserve, conserve. This was yet another experiment in race strategy that I was willing to try and what better day to try it than the final race of the year? The race promoter gave final instructions and started the race. We rolled out at an easy pace, all of us seemingly comfortable with taking a "neutral lap" to get our legs warm and feel one another out. The day had dawned foggy and cool, so I was wearing long sleeves but as we clipped through the countryside I was warming up and beginning to wonder if I overdressed for this race. I was almost lost in my own thoughts as we sped along, allowing the guy on the circa 1990's steel frame spin his brains out on the front. I don't know if he couldn't switch up into his big ring or just had read too many "high RPM" articles in RoadBike magazine, but he was wearing himself out and we were averaging just barely over 20mph. As seemed typical for races in this area, part of the course was extremely windy and forced the pack into a long strung out paceline/echelon. Once "Spinny" tired on the front, he allowed the rest of us to start taking some pulls and as we worked the rotating paceline, our average speed began to creep up a bit. We were in the hills now and it was obvious some of these guys were not climbers. We lost maybe one or two guys on the first lap and had a handful of riders hanging on for dear life as we maintained 20mph over the crest of the first climbs of the day. There were some juniors who were mixed in with our group and I was excited to see how strong they were. Sporting slightly oversized lycra and 1980's neon jerseys, these kids jumped right in our paceline and took pulls on the front like the "big boys"...in junior gears! Their legs were blurs as they spun as hard as they could to maintain the pace (which they did quite handily). At this point I was sticking to my plan and was safely tucked into the pack, we had now rounded the finish and were on our second lap and I felt quite good. I was able to freewheel for what seemed like long stretches as the front of the pack broke the wind and pulled the rest of us along behind them. Our average was finally edging up above 20mph, but I needed only to put in efforts on the small hills as we cruised along almost coasting on the flats. I was enjoying my position in the pack and thought maybe this won't be that bad after all, as right now I am more than completely comfortable. Then it came...

As we hit the climbing portion of the course on our second lap...yep, read that again: SECOND lap...a younger guy (early 20's) moves to the front of the peloton to push the pace. Then, as we were entering one of the steeper climbs and precisely where I planned on attacking (only much later in the race), he accelerates and pops off the front of the group. Now it wasn't what I would term a "normal" out-of-the-saddle, no-holds bar attack. Simply an acceleration that the guy behind him wasn't ready for and didn't immediately respond to. It was a good attack and well planned, but I chuckled to myself as I thought, "A bit too early fella". I moved up to the front of the pack and started the tempo for what I assumed would be an early catch. He only had a 50 yard gap if that, so I turned up the heat a bit, took my pull, and pulled to the side fully expecting to see the rider behind me pull through...but he didnt. I glanced back and flipped my elbow in the universal sign of "Its your turn", but he just sat there. In fact everyone sat there, I looked around and it was almost like they were soft-pedaling (which we weren't, but I was angry at the time so it seemed like it). I glanced at the leader again and saw he was pulling away, it seemed he had the legs to go the distance, especially if these guys didnt get organized quick. I was hot at this point and waved my arm forward in a large, unmistakable indication to "get your butt up here and pull." I had started it and I definitely wasn't just going to chase this guy down by myself while everyone else tagged along. Still...nothing. I stared at my handlebar, frustrated. These guys were just going to let our attacker walk away from us, and not that I minded racing for second place if thats what it came to, but everyone was sooo concerned with conserving and sitting in for the finish that none of them were going to organize a chase group to pull this guy back...REALLY?! Finally, I had enough. I glanced around me at a few faces with an expression that probably dripped of pure disgust, and attacked at the base of the next climb. The pack was ever so slowly organizing back into a paceline (presumably a chase group?), but my attack took them by surprise. I jumped off the front and bridged the gap to the lone front man quickly. As we crested the last hill I caught him and pulled alongside him. I looked at his face and could tell that a) he was starting to hurt a bit and b) he was thoroughly surprised to see me, as if I were a ghost that had appeared from the ground next to him. I think he thought I had brought the pack with me, but I said "Hey listen, if we work together we got 'em" flipping my head back to the FINALLY chasing pack. He glanced behind him, looked at my face and said "Alright man, lets do it!" That was all I needed to hear. While I had planned on today being an "easy" race day, I knew that it was now REALLY gonna hurt. The pack was chasing and I wasn't sure how long my newfound companion would last, but we were going to give them a run for their money! If they were to catch us, they had better be as dedicated as we were to work...and let me just say, we were dedicated.

I pulled in front of the young guy in the blue jersey and took a hard pull down the hill to the finishing turn. We hit the turn like it was a crit, accelerating out of the corner for all we were worth. As we crossed the line, the crowd was a bit surprised to see only the two of us, but they broke into cheers as we motored through the start/finish area. As we crossed the line, I glanced behind us and could see that the pack had broken into two chase groups, a smaller group having formed off the front a scant 40 seconds or so behind us. I let blue jersey take a pull while I got a drink. I knew that all we needed to do was work together on the flats and drill the hills to put some time into these guys. If we could work hard for a few laps, then we would have a cushion on the final laps of the day. The next few laps were quite painful...on the flats we were over 30mph trading pulls frequently in our two man paceline and on each hill we were out of the saddle, pinning it to the top. We recovered on the downhills and looked over our shoulders as often as we dared, however it became clear that we would not see the pack again. As we entered our bell lap, we had a gap of around 5 minutes on our first set of chasers and knew that (barring catastrophic mechanical failure) we would be finishing out the race head to head, our time of working together rapidly drawing to a close. We continued to work together through the first half of the last lap, although I noticed that my comrade was starting to sit-in on me a bit longer each time. Thus I began to return the favor, trying to gain as much recovery as possible as we sped along the flats and small rollers of the course. It was around this time that we picked up a straggling Cat 2 rider, having been dropped from his race when he flatted. He asked if he could tuck in with us and we obliged. He pointed out that we had almost caught the Cat 1/2/3 race as it was less than a minute in front of us (we could see their pack on each rise we crested). He offered to pull some if we got close enough to their pack for him to bridge the gap, but alas it wasnt meant to be his day as we never came within striking distance.

As we entered the climbing portion of the course, I was anticipating an attack from blue jersey guy. I knew he had to be tired, because I definitely was, but given this is where he had attacked before I figured he might try it again. We entered and finished the first climb without incident, however we were no longer trading pulls. We rode side by side, sometimes hovering just off of one another's wheels in tense anticipation of the attacks that we each expected to come. I was determined to simply wait and respond to any attacks that blue jersey had left and was not dissappointed, because as we entered the second climb, he jumped out of the saddle and attacked viciously. I was able to respond almost instantly and stayed glued right on him until he settled back down in the final portion of the climb. I was impressed. To say I felt at this point that I had him "right where I wanted him" would be naive and arrogant, because I wasnt sure I did. His last attack was tough to ward off and at one point I hurt bad enough that I toyed with the idea of letting him go...but I buckled down, clawed my way back to his wheel, and frantically tried to recover as we crested the hill. As we came over, I pulled next to him and said, "However this ends, it has been a great race man!". He nodded in agreement...and then launched again. I think perhaps he thought I was being arrogant at this point, as if I were saying "Its been nice riding with you but I am going to dust you now" (which I really wasnt at all. I respected this guy. I mean we had just been out on the front alone all day for crying out loud). I answered his attack again and was stuck right on him as we bombed it for the final turn. He was tucked into the white line to give me as little chance as possible to draft off of him as he "time-trialed" for the finish. I knew it was going to be close, but it was now or never, so I clicked up a few gears and attacked. I came around blue jersey and nailed it for the final turn. He was right on my tail, not yet willing to give up. We swept through the turn clocking right around 40mph and immediately were out of our saddles drillin it for the line. Out of the corner of my eye I could see his front wheel next to me, it would inch up and then fall back slightly, never quite able to pull around. I was in a blitzkrieg of pain, pushing my body to a realm of hurt previously thought unreachable by mortal man. The finish line seemed so unbelievably far away and then as suddenly as it had all started, I was there pulling across the line nearly a bike length ahead of my adversary.

There are a myriad of emotions that sweep over you as you realize you have taken a win. At some point I had apparently realized I had beaten blue jersey and was able to sit up, raise my arms, and salute the "crowd" as I pulled across the line, a clear victory finally mine. I was grinning ear to ear and coasted on through to the parking lot beyond, taking a few laps to cool down after a hard day out on the road. I clapped my hands, pounded my handlebars, and congratulated the guy in second place. I was elated and could hardly believe that on my last race of the season, I had finally pulled off a win. And not just a win, but a win on an all day breakaway at that! This wasnt a huge race for me and I had honestly only entered it as a last minute addition to my race calendar, so I cant say that I broke down crying at the finish or anything. However, I was congratulated all around and claimed my price (nice set of new tires :) ), before packing up my bike and heading for home. I was elated with my performance and to top it off, Elizabeth and Paul had made it to see my first win! Throughout the season I had tried a variety of different riding styles and techniques. I had done well and proven to myself and others I could be a force to be reckoned with. I had trained long, countless hours, wrecked, fixed numerous mechanical problems, and constantly was analyzing my own personal strategy for each race. I used the experiences that I had gathered in each race to determine what had worked and didnt work and finally...finally had taken a win on MY terms based on MY mid-race decisions. Somehow, in the back of my mind when I pulled away from the pack that day, I knew I was headed on for a win. I had the confidence in myself and the decisions I would make at the end to simply "know" that I had what it took to go the distance. I had built the fitness, racing repertoire, and mindset over the entire season and it finally paid off. I would like to thank everyone for following me through this season and offering suggestions and encouragement at times when I may have needed it most. I am so glad that my family (immediate and extended) were so understanding this season and were able to attend as many races as they all did. I am by no means done blogging on my experiences on the bike, however it is time to enjoy some time off just relaxing. I am taking the computers off of my bikes and simply going to let my legs and lungs tell me when I am done for the day. I will attend group rides and chat with guys at the back of the pack and mountain bike for hours at whatever leisurely pace I feel like. And, maybe, I will even take a foray into 'Cross racing this year but it will not take the precedent that my road season did. Its time to just enjoy family, the holidays, and the bike for awhile. Get out and ride guys cuz, "It never has mattered how light or how fast, its simply...all about the ride."

The EPIC!

2009-08-23T21:55:00.000-04:00

So this week our typical Thursday night "A group" ride was anything but typical. In fact, it verged on that ever-present verbage used in mountain biking circles: Epic. Presumably we have all experienced an adventure of "Epic proportions" at some point in our life but it seems as we grow older these adventures grow few and far between.

Thursday dawned humid and cloudy, with the promise of rain showers in the afternoon. The normal group ride email went out and there were several "Yays" but even more "Nays". Those that had opted into the ride were among the fastest guys in the area and were of the mindset to not shy away from a ride due to inclimate weather. (Sidenote here: I really have as of yet to meet a "slow" guy that shows up to these rides. I am thoroughly impressed with the quality of outdoor athletes we have in the Ohio Valley and we continually place well in regional events. Even at the CMC last weekend we had half a dozen guys from Marietta and Parkersburg in the top 50 of the field, which is saying something! Anyway, I digress.) As I parked in the wide turn off on Colegate which has become our normal meeting area, there were already three other vehicles and a handful of riders standing around the lot. I prepped bottles, put my bike together and took a few short runs up the steep climb leading away from our meeting area.

Right before we left as dark clouds were grouping overhead a gray car stops and the kind (and obviously intelligent...) middle aged woman inside tells us there is a tornado warning in Athens, OH and severe storms were headed this way. We laughingly tell her thanks and that we will be ok, then foolishly crack tornado jokes as we strike out on the first climb...if only we knew what lay ahead.

Our group was partially made up of triathletes (guys who ride with us just for their "bike" workout), one mountain bike racer, and the rest of us were road racers. As we started gaining elevation on the "warm up" part of our route there was an initial selection made as I pushed the pace off the front. One guy was able to follow, glued to my wheel while another was caught out just a few seconds back from us. He eventually caught on and the three of us sped over the first 10 miles, growing a 30 second to 1 minute gap on the rest of the group. We waited at the bottom of the descent on to Rt. 821 and when the group had come back together we headed out to Rt. 530 and the "real" climbing. We let the triathletes lead on the sustained, but long climb of the night and followed along in their draft on the flats. As we entered hilly country again, I pegged it and my comrades from the initial selection followed, with the rest of the group content to string out in a paceline and let us go. We were averaging 21-23mph through the rollers and hills of the middle section of the ride without too much trouble. Partway through, there was an acceleration by one guy and I followed, shedding the other leader who followed behind around 30 seconds down. We came to Rt. 530 and waited again. This is the part where if we were smarter we would have turned around and hitailed it for home. This is the part where "pack mentality" took over and drove us not back towards safety, but instead further into the eye of the storm. And this is also the part where the ride changes from the typical Thursday group ride into the EPIC Thursday group ride.

As we were waiting for the remainder of the group to catch back on we noticed lightning and thunder in the distance. The wind had also picked up a bit and we joked...again...about tornado warnings and how we had ALL checked the radar map before heading out and everything nasty was heading northeast of us. The group came back together, there were some half-hearted attempts to see if anyone wanted to turn back...and then we all hammered down the hill headed for our final big climb of the evening. After that moment, not a word was spoken about turning back. We were all chasing wheels and hammering up the climb. I was caught out by two guys and put into the red a bit, but managed to recover and catch back on, passing one guy partway up and "pipping" the other leader at the summit for our imaginary KOM points. The three of us came together and laid down a blistering pace through the hills headed into Lowell, never dropping below 30mph and most of the time hitting 40mph or over.

Two of us broke away on a roller and were topping out in the big ring when we rounded a bend and looked across the valleys below. We literally could not even see the houses or hills we knew existed down there. We couldnt even see several hundred yards in front of us...thanks to the white wall of water and wind that was headed our way. My comrade and I glanced at one another, each mumbling something inaudible as the howl of the wind started around us. We literally were in the middle of nowhere, with no shelter other than the trees along the side the road (which at this point looked more like lightning rods to me). So...we hammered on in the rain. This was not normal, softly caress your face, just keep you wet rain. This was pebble sized raindrops flying at 60mph, beat you until you are blue rain and it was relentless. Now I have ridden in maybe 5 rainstorms this training year and normally my pace doesnt change much due to weather. If anything I push harder when the weather is worse, but none of the storms I had ridden in even came close to this storm. We were bombing the hills as hard as we could...and only hitting 44mph. On the flats we only managed to ride 13.5-15mph at our top speed. The wind was so fierce that at times it was seemingly impossible to hold a line. Somehow through all of this I managed to push the pace to a point again to shed my only other attacker. I charged on in the rain with each of the other two leaders doing the same. Maybe 10 seconds separated us on the road, but not one of us could hear or even see one another. I descended into Lowell and took shelter under a covered bank ATM, awaiting the arrival of the remainder of the group. They eventually came in singles and groups of two, scraggling in as if we had just spent a truly rough day out on the road...and we were halfway done. At some point the rain stopped and we all headed out to finish our loop. We were soaked, but NOW we had the gall to joke about the experience and even to say that it was obvious that it was over for the night! I mean, we did see blue sky on the horizon and after all, how many summer rainstorms have YOU seen that last longer than an hour? We lost two of our number in Lowell as they had a vehicle parked there and opted to drive on home rather than continue back to Marietta.

We headed out on the flats of River road shooting for home and warm food. As we hit the middle section of River road, we were really rolling and Nathan and I struck out on our own. We were topping 30mph taking short hard pulls and growing the gap we had on the rest of the guys. All was well until we rounded a corner...and again were confronted with a white wall of water. The rain was really coming down now and showed no signs of stopping. It was coming in sheets and seemed to be shooting sideways as we cruised along against the wind now. We were barely breaking 14mph as we continued to strike out on our own, but eventually the rain that felt like hail was just too much. We pulled in under a railroad bridge for some reprieve from the wind and rain. It wasnt perfect but it helped...for awhile. None of us were overly prepared for the dropping temperature so we eventually got cold and decided to ride the rest of the way in the storm. We headed out and made our slow way to Marietta. The last part of our Epic was fairly uneventful...oh yeah, except for my wreck.

Thats right, we finally make it into town and less than a mile from my house I am tucked in behind Nathan, clippin over 20mph as the rain had finally stopped, when all of a sudden he drops his front wheel into a concrete joint in the pavement. When his front wheel drops, it throws his rear wheel over into my front wheel. Let me just say that while I do fancy myself at least somewhat of a bike handler, there is no recovering when your front wheel has left the pavement. The front end of my bike shot out from under me and I was instantly hurtling for the pavement. Nathan managed to recover and clear the way for my quick, albeit painful dismount. Apparently both knees, my right elbow, hip, and the top portion of my back hit at some point, however I dont really remember all of the contact points. It seemed as soon as I hit I was up looking for my bike. I drug it out of the road and took stock of my equipment and myself. Other than a bit of blood, torn lycra, and a few holes in my jersey I was ok. My bike did not fair as well, however, as my rear wheel was completely destroyed, rear tire flat and slit, and some chunks of grip tape were missing. I called for a ride and headed home to patch me and my bike back up for the race on Saturday.

You would think after a night like this I would be unhappy or discouraged, however it was exactly the opposite. I hadnt had that much fun on a bike ride all season! So many things went wrong that it was ridiculous, but nights like this make the "everyday normal" rides bearable and enjoyable. The only concern I had was...how was I going to fair on Saturday now? I was going to have road rash on various parts of my body and (since I am my own mechanic) had alot of work to do on my bike before it would be ready. However, I wasnt worried. I was once again loving the simplicity of "the ride" instead of thinking only of training and knew that Granville was my last race. If I simply finished I would have the points I needed to complete my license upgrade and have met my goal of upgrading one category in a single season, so I felt very little pressure. As soon as I got home I started patching myself and my bike up to get ready for Saturday...but I knew that I would have memories of our Thursday night EPIC for a long time! Enjoy the ride everyone!

2009-08-22T13:17:00.003-04:00

And the winner is...ME!!! Out on an early two man break and kicked at the end for the win! Tough race but legs felt good!

2009-08-22T13:17:00.001-04:00

And the winner is...ME!!! Out on an early two man break and kicked at the end for the win! Tough race but legs felt good!

2009-08-22T08:01:00.001-04:00

Off to the races! Last one of the season!

Cheat Mountain Challenge 2009

2009-08-18T10:00:00.000-04:00

Well the Cheat Mountain Challenge has come and gone and looking retrospectively at my experience, I can without a doubt say that it was the most physical, emotional, and mental anguish I have ever encountered on a bicycle. It was a fantastic race/ride and I am pleased with my results, having ridden myself into 12th overall out of 153 competitors! I am for sure heading back next year and you can bet I am looking for a Top Ten result!

Describing this race is going to be more difficult than in the past, as I feel almost incapable of accurately depicting the magnitude and sheer brutality of the ride. But here goes anyway...

First some facts: The Cheat Mountain Challenge is 110.2 miles of riding through the Appalachian Mountains in Central West Virginia. These mountains are not kind. They do not love you. They are beautiful and horrendous at the same time. The organizers of the CMC know this...and take full advantage. Rated as one of the Ten Best Rides in America by Road Bike Magazine, the CMC takes in some of the most breathtaking views and covers some of the most superb pavement the East coast has to offer. There are two options when you sign up for the CMC: a full century (110.2 miles) and the metric century (100k or a little over 70 miles). As far as my group of friends/team mates are concerned the only reason to go over was for the full century so that is what I signed up for. Now I had done some century rides this year, but all fell well under 5-6,000ft. of vertical elevation gain over a course of 100 miles or so. The CMC climbs close to 11,000ft. in 110 miles. There are six major climbs in that distance coming in at lengths of (in order of appearance) 7 miles, 4 miles, 10 miles, 7 miles, 5 miles, and 6 miles. Lets put this in perspective, shall we? Stage 8 of this year's (2009) Tour de France was a climbing stage in the Pyrenees Mountains. Follow this link (http://connect.garmin.com/activity/8755231) to see the actual GPS stats from a Garmin-Slipstream rider who rode this route. Notice it covered nearly 110 miles and climbed 10,191ft. Thats right, the CMC was not only comparable but almost identical to a climbing stage in the Tour de France...the Super Bowl of all bike races. Also notice the elevation profile on that page...and compare it to the one on this map (http://www.wvcf.org/cmc/images/PDFs/2006%20CMC%20Century%20Profile.pdf). See the similarities? Several major climbs, lots of small elevation changes, barely any reprieve save for a few flat sections between mountain peaks? Is the CMC starting to sound tough yet? Well it is/was! Out of 153 riders, only 124 made it to the finish line. Others were either pulled from the course for not making the time cut or abandoned on their own accord.

The entire peloton started on top of Cheat Mountain at the Rimfire Lodge in Snowshoe, WV. There was a "controlled" 6 mile roll to the bottom of the mountain where official timing would begin. Ben and I lined up close to the front of the mass of cyclists and began our descent. Almost immediately we were clipping along at 40mph heading into the sweeping turns on the slopes of Snowshoe. A small group of 4 broke off the front as they chased the leadout vehicle, so I got off my brakes and enjoyed the brisk early morning air reaching speeds of up to 55mph as our small splinter group railed down the mountainside. We rolled into the bottom staging area several minutes ahead of the main pack, with plenty of time for me to down yet another bottle of water as we waited for the initial lineup. As we lined up, Ben motioned for me to once again move to the front. I tucked in next to him as he chatted with a few of the guys up front. They all knew or knew of each other, however I was a no name. I was pretty much invisible, except for Ben's quick introductions of "This is Nat, he's fast" to a few of the guys who had actually noticed that I was wearing a Team Athens jersey. I got a half-hearted nod every now and then, which was about all I expected as I anxiously awaited the starting whistle.

When the signal finally came to roll out, our group eased forward, soft pedaling down the road toward the slope of the first climb. The peloton was jovial, if not antsy. I was safely tucked into the group and barely had to pedal to maintain my spot in the pack. We weren't even breaking 20mph, but that was because everyone knew what lay ahead of us that day. My tactics were simple: make it over the first few climbs with the leaders and back Ben up if needed, hang on as long as possible and then simply survive to the finish after the accelerations on the 10 mile ascent that marked a bit over halfway on our route.

The first climb was one of the steepest with a sustained grade over 9% for all of 7 miles. As we hit the base, the pace quickened. A few flyers headed up the road, apparently on a mad dash for the summit but were quickly caught, passed, and dropped from the folds of the main group. To me the pace seemed sufficient only to quicken my breathing, but we were shelling riders left and right. At the top of the climb a group of around 30 riders had managed to hold it together and now began the twisting, highly technical descent. For me this was perhaps the most fun descent of the day. I dont know if its because I came from mountain biking or what, but I love technical descents with lots of turns and switchbacks. We bombed the next 5 miles of twisty back mountain roads, reaching speeds around the 50mph mark. Even in this downhill section we shed a few more riders as they simply couldnt hang onto the tail end of our drawn out paceline. Following the downhill there were a few miles of flats before we headed into the next climb. The group was around 25 riders strong now and we all rode in a pack, heading toward the base of the upcoming 4 mile grindfest. A couple of miles before the base of the climb we were riding through a small section of rollers and I dropped my chain (chain fell off the front chainrings). I lost my place in the paceline and had to slow in order to pull it back onto my rings and get back up to speed. At first this seemed like the end to my day. The pack sped on and I was left seemingly alone on the road. However, I got the chain back on and managed to chase back on to the back of the pack right before they hit the next climb. As expected, there was an acceleration on the climb and those that could, followed. My legs felt good but I was monitoring my power output so as not to burn out too quickly. Thankfully, I was able to answer the accelerations without too much problem and managed to hang on with Ben and the other leaders over the summit of this climb as well. We emerged with a mere 18 riders and the pace eased as we had enough of a gap on the riders we had lost that we would not see them again before the finish line. We now had a section of 30 or so miles of flats and rollers before the whopping 10mile climb into Watoga State Park. At this point there were some guys starting to take notice that I was still there (and not only still there, but I wasnt really hurting yet either). As we cruised along at 25mph through the flats, taking turns pulling on the front, I struck up conversations with several of the other riders. This was a "stacked" group! Within our group of 18, we had one 18 year old Junior phenom who had won the state championships last year, a 14 year old Elite level climbing specialist, one Ex-ProContinental rider, several Pro/Elite level racers, a West Virginia State Mountain Biking Champion, and the guys who had taken first, second, third, and fifth at the CMC last year. Conversations flowed as we cruised along, I having been accepted into "the fold" since I could match pace with them AND was willing to share the work up front. There were a handful of riders at the back that refused to take their pulls (from the looks on their faces, they simply couldnt as it was all they could do to hang on) and one guy in a blue jersey kept accelerating up to the front and asking if we wanted to make a breakaway work...which no one did. We were like 40 miles into the day with most of the major climbs yet to come...why would we want to go it alone...? So after a few miles of having some sandbaggers and the annoying Blue Jersey guy, we turned the heat up at the front and dropped those that refused to help. Our main group now consisted of 13 guys, everyone of us having pulled our weight to get there.

Ben dropped back into the pack and asked how my legs felt. I said I was good, but knew that the next section was going to be tough. He said to match pace with the leaders as best I could and even "burn a few matches" if I had to because if I could get over the top with the group I was guaranteed a Top Fifteen finish. I chuckled and said I would do my best. As we hit the climb, the group stayed together for maybe 5 miles or so. Then the leader (he won last year as well) accelerated AGAIN and I began losing touch with the group. Myself and one other rider were detached from the back of the group and labored together for the next 5 miles to the summit. The front group only had a gap on us of 20 seconds, so on the descent I pulled alongside my comrade and asked if he wanted to chase back on. He said yes so we worked for the next few miles to close the gap and managed to latch back onto the main pack by the bottom of the mountain. Just as we were about to make the catch however, I saw a bottle come skittering out of the pack and Ben slowed to go back and pick it up. He had dropped it as he hit a bump and now was going to get left in the wake of the charging pack. He yelled to me to keep going and he would be there in a minute, but as a single rider he stood relatively little chance of latching back on to this group, so I slowed to wait on him. He grabbed his bottle and then we started hammering to get back up to the leaders. Taking short hard pulls and some risks in the gravel-filled turns of the State Park, we managed to catch back up to the group right as they entered another section of flats.

From then on it was fairly uneventful as the group worked together to drive the pace, all of us knowing full well that as soon as we hit the next climb, the attacks would come and our group would be splintered yet again. As we hit the base of the next 7 mile climb, I could tell I would not be able to answer the attacks on this climb. In fact, I could tell that I was starting to hit "The Wall". I was bonking due to a lack of food. You see, even though the CMC is fully supported, if you want to hang with the lead pack you had better be ready to make only two stops over the entire ride. We had blasted through at least four aid stations so far and I had been living on nothing but Gu Gel packets, a Powerbar, and Gatorade recovery drinks. I had done good on liquid intake, but didn't have enough calories to sustain my efforts much longer. At mile 67 there was an acceleration on the climb and I was dropped for the last time that day. Once the pack pulled away, I was alone on the road and in complete and utter pain. I had several more miles of climbing before I would reach the aid station I had told my parents to meet me at with bottles and extra food. I switched into my small chainring and simply CRAWLED up the climb. You know how sometimes if you watch the Tour de France there will be that guy that is on the front all day killin' the pace, but then later in the race you seem him weaving all over the road trying to climb but failing miserably? Yeah, I was that guy. I could barely keep my bike straight and almost fell over because I was moving so slowly up this climb. I was now in survival mode, not even focused on finishing the ride, just on finishing this CLIMB. After what seemed like an eternity I made it to the top of the climb and instantly downed the entire quart of Powerade my Dad had waiting on me. I ate two peanut butter half-sandwiches, grabbed more bottles and hit the road...slowly. I knew I couldnt match pace with the leaders anymore, but I was going to maintain my Top Fifteen spot! I headed out onto the Highland Scenic Highway...or as I like to think of it, the ninth circle of Hades. You see, the scenic highway is straight, rolling, and on a mountain top so I was able to look in either direction and realize how utterly alone I was as I battled against strong headwinds and changed into my smallest cog for even the tiniest undulation in the road. I was gone, done, completely empty. At this moment I felt so completely exhausted and frustrated that I was ready to call it quits. I was waging a mental battle with myself, torn between accepting defeat and abandoning, but realizing that if I could push past this low point I would most assuredly find the resurgence of strength to finish. The next 10 miles were quite possibly the hardest of my entire riding career as I maintained a cadence so slow that I was sure I was traveling back in time. Apparently I was surrounded by beautiful mountaintop views, but all I could do was focus on the white line in front of me as I fought to turn each pedal over, one stroke at a time. I ate and ate and ate. Half of the food I had with me was gone within 15 minutes of my picking it up, but I felt no reprieve. With each kick upwards in the road I literally would scream outloud in anger. I was irrationally angry at the organizers for designing a tough course, at the earth for having mountains, and most of all myself for not eating enough. I was overcome with emotions at the sight of each hill, feeling thoroughly beaten and near a complete breakdown. With each rise, it became a gamble as to which of my muscles would cramp next: hamstrings once, followed by calves, then quads. I even had cramps coming into my triceps and shoulders. When I felt a cramp coming on, I would begin beating the cramping muscle incessantly with my fist until the cramp passed. Who knows if this actually helped the muscle uncramp or just made me feel better mentally. At that point, I really didnt care. Even with all of these emotions, I kept telling myself to pull it back together because I knew the feeling would pass. I KNEW this feeling and I KNEW that I could beat it. I continued to eat and I continued to pedal, because that is all it seemed I knew how to do at this point. My world became one of singular purpose: eat, drink, get over the next rise. Slowly I began feeling better and my cadence quickened. I didnt feel as good as I had at the beginning of the day, but I could tell I was coming out of it.

After the aid station at mile 80 there was a long straight descent down the mountain. I grabbed some more bottles from my parents and hit the descent, using the full 10-15 minutes of descending to wake my legs back up and work some of the lactic acid out of my tired and sore muscles. I was recovering finally and able to pull everything back into perspective as I passed from the bonking stage into a tired, but determined drive to see the finish line. I had two more climbs that day, one of which came directly after my long recovery descent. I dropped into low gear and began grinding my way up the next 5 mile climb. Nearly half an hour later I emerged at the summit to another aid station. I grabbed two more bottles, Fig Newtons, and another sandwich and kept trucking. I learned here that numerous riders had already abandoned, including the ex-ProContinental rider from the lead group. The going was indeed getting tough! I rolled through a few flats on top of the mountain and then descended to the foothills. As I made the turn onto one of the major routes in the valley I saw a sign that said "Snowshoe 15miles". You would have thought someone just told me that I had won a million dollars. I was so elated to be "only" 15 miles away from my goal! The next few miles flew by, partly because I was feeling better and was able to hammer again, pulling back some of the time gap that had opened up between me and the leaders. It seemed this section of the ride was nearly all downhill (not sure if it was or not...) as I happily clipped along, headed to the base of our final climb of the day back up to the Rimfire lodge. I came into the final aid station and unloaded my bottles, jettisoning as much weight as possible for the final 6 mile push to the top of the mountain. The last climb was almost a blur compared to the other climbs of the day. I felt fine actually. I was able to accelerate in the switchbacks when the grade kicked up into the double digits, passed a few people, and maintained my position behind the leaders (just over a minute behind the guy in eleventh position). I rolled across the finish line alone, but elated.

My results were good, but the experience of riding the CMC was about more than that to me. At first of course it just started as a bike race, everyone gunning for the line. But for me it had turned into an exploration of myself as a cyclist. It truly showed me exactly how much of the ride is mental. How your mind can push your body past the point of no return and then continue to demand more, but only if you will let it. I had felt such unimaginable pain in literally every single part of my body on this ride, that it was hard to believe it was over when I crossed the finish line. I sat alone in the hotel lobby eating my high carbohydrate snacks and sipping Gatorade, contemplating what I had just been through. Sure, I could have been better prepared for this ride. And of course chasing back onto the main pack (not once, but three times) had burnt up valuable energy that I didnt have to spare on a day like that AND I know I should have eaten more. But it is what it is. I have never and will never have any regrets about the way I ride my races. I leave it all out on the race course, regardless of my place standings at the end of the day...and to me that is more important.

After the ride most of the guys from the lead pack found one another and we all reminisced about the climbs, attacks, etc. After I was dropped the group had stuck together for only a few more miles before the relentless attacks had splintered the entire group. We all finished either by ourselves or in groups of two, but the ranks of our once 13 strong pack had all but disappeared by the final climb. We laughed and joked, all vowing to return stronger next year for another crack at one another and the mountains of West Virginia. We all parted ways knowing that for several of us, this ride marked the end of the road season. Ben and I have one more race, but then it will be back to base miles and donning arm warmers for “Fall Leaf tours”. The holidays will come and go, we will put in monotonous miles on indoor trainers and then come back in the early spring, ready to stretch our legs and put the hurt on one another yet again. Over the season I have grown as a cyclist and endurance athlete, increasing my speed and aerobic capacity, and exploring the mental connection to athletic performance. I have made friends with guys in the peloton, impressed some, irritated others, and am fairly well known by the event organizers at this point. And while I may have started the season as a no name rookie from Marietta, you can bet that next year will be different. I am gonna work harder than ever for next season and hopefully will hear more than one guy in the peloton say “That’s Nat, he’s fast!”.

2009-08-15T15:22:00.001-04:00

14Th overall @ cmc! Tough tough ride today! made it in at six hours and seven minutes!

2009-08-14T17:28:00.001-04:00

Chili peppers on the stereo and gas in the tank. Cmc here i come!

A diesel sports car?

2009-08-14T10:51:00.001-04:00

There are some days you just dont feel like going out to train...well I have been having one of those days all week. Following my strong showing at this past weekend's races, I was pretty burnt up come Monday. However I knew the best way to get my legs back was to take a few easy days before I took a day off the bike. I have put around 30 easy miles in each day and added a few accelerations every so often just to wake my legs up a bit. Monday I was pretty sluggish and didnt have my normal power on the hills (I guess two days of hard races had taken more out of me than I thought). Yesterday I felt better, but still wasnt mentally focused on training. I put in the time because I knew I had to, but I definitely wasnt "yearning" to ride like I usually am. Following the CMC, I have 6 days off and then race my last road race of the season on Saturday, August 22nd in Granville, OH.

Granville is a rolling circuit race on a new 7 mile course on brand new pavement. Cat 4/5 will be racing 4 laps for a total of 28 miles. I plan on taking a different approach to this race, which could dramatically change my strategy and training for next season. I recently read an article by Bob Roll regarding amateur road races in the US.

If anyone remembers the glory days of the Tour de France when the classic battle was between Jan Ullrich and Lance Armstrong, you may also remember the announcers referring to Ullrich's "diesel engine". Ullrich was a fantastic bike racer, but was slightly larger than your typical climber/all around contender. However, he had such incredible power that he managed to climb mountains with the best of the peloton (including Armstrong), albeit at a constant speed. Jan was able to push a large gear on mountain passes, propelling him at race pace with other climbers that were spinning on smaller gear ratios, however when attacks came it was more difficult for Jan's slower, more powerful riding style to answer the sudden accelerations (hence the diesel engine reference). In the Jan Ullrich vs. Lance Armstrong saga, Ullrich could be likened to a diesel truck and Armstrong to a sports car. Both had power and could go the distance, but the difference that separated the contender from a champion was the ability to accelerate quicker. In Bob's article he likens the amateur race scene in America to being full of "diesel engines". The pace of the ProAm races are getting increasingly faster as time goes on, but there are more and more races ending in bunch sprints. Bob claims that in order to stand out in this type of environment, racers must train to not just have a diesel engine, but to accelerate as a "sports car" out of the pack. It goes back to the old adage that champions do not follow wheels, they put their faces to the wind and set their own pace.

I have noticed in my own races Bob's observations to be accurate. The pace is sometimes unbelievably fast for amateur races (none of my races have averaged below 20mph and the majority have been over 23mph). Granted this pace effectively separates the contenders from the rest of the peloton as only a handful of riders can maintain that kind of pace for the entire race, however from within the front pack there are relatively few attacks that raise the pace. Attempted breakaways are rare and accelerations are short lived. I have worked up to being able to maintain an intense pace long enough to last through a race, however I wholeheartedly believe I am running on a "diesel engine". My training, while focused at the beginning of the season, has become less and less structured as time went on. I have moved from actual focused workouts, to just going out and riding a specific route as hard as I can. While this keeps things interesting for me, it has not helped train me to accelerate in such a way as to separate myself from my competitors. Ben has even pointed out his shortcoming in this respect as well, as he said when he made the jump to Cat 4 he "languished" in this category for a long time before he managed to accumulate the points needed for another upgrade. He said he was convinced he did not train effectively as he did the same loop at the same intensity all the time when training for his upcoming races.

Thus as I make the jump to Cat 4 races I do not want to make the mistake of thinking I am going to be the fastest guy there. As I move up, its going to become obvious that I will not be able to simply "out ride" the rest of the competition. We will all be similarly matched equipment-wise and fitness-wise, however its the type of fitness that will separate us. I am already devising my training plan for next year as I need to fine tune this diesel engine into a true race machine. In Granville I am going to literally force myself to be the biggest anchor ever. I am going to suck wheels all day long, soft pedal in the pack, and stay back off the front until late in the race. I plan on entering the final laps having not even felt like we raced that day. Then I will move up, and possibly launch a late attack or just sit in and wait for the final sprint for the line, but under no circumstances will I be pulling on the front. This is a large mental obstacle for me as it is completely against everything about my normal riding style. I am used to being front man, taking long pulls, and just generally pounding everyone else until they give in...but I have no first place finishes to show for that tactic. I have done well this season for sure and am by no means complaining. Nor do I assume that Granville will necessarily be my best race of the season (its flat...remember), however it is a good place to test out my "new" race strategy. Its my final required race for a license upgrade and literally the last road race available for this season. Just finishing will be accomplishment enough to move me forward in my goals for advancing.

But who knows, maybe this old diesel engine can muster at least one acceleration for the line. I mean, there are diesel drag cars, right?

A weekend of "Firsts"

2009-08-11T08:55:00.001-04:00

That's right, this weekend was a weekend of "firsts", but not in the sense of podium finishes. Rather these were experiences that either myself or others were able to delve into for the first time. For example, this was my first weekend racing back to back days, my first criterium, my first breakaway, my first races wearing Team Athens colors and my first races in rain and extreme heat. It was also my youngest sister's first experience with the whole "bike racing scene" which she said was "interesting".

We loaded up the car and headed to Westerville, OH for the Garrett Wonders Criterium. Now criteriums are not my forte, but I was hunting for more races to apply towards my license upgrade. Following registration I warmed up for a few minutes on the trainer and then headed out onto the course for a preview. It was a flat, fast four corner course 1.1 miles in length. The pavement was superb, save for the back straight after turn three. There were numerous potholes and manhole covers on this section, which could prove dangerous at high speeds, especially if the rain that was threatening decided to open up while we were racing. I took several laps and threw in a few "hot laps" prior to the lineup at 8:20am. The Cat. 5 field was HUGE. We were approaching 50 riders strong which was going to prove interesting on the narrow single lane streets on the back section of the course. When the beginning whistle blew we all started in one big, fast moving mass. We rolled into turn one 6-7 riders wide and hit the bottle necked single lane road. I was sitting mid pack tucked inside the peloton. The pace was comfortable, but the turns already made me uneasy as there were several VERY inexperienced riders jostling around inside the folds of the peloton. I didnt feel like touching wheels and going down in the middle of all 50 riders, so as we rounded the first lap I worked my way to the outside, my plan of sitting in all day shot. I quickly moved up to the front of the pack as we started lap two, going around 20mph. When we hit the single lane side street again, I nailed it pulling out one of the Junior racers with me (they start with the Cat 5's). We pulled several yards off the front and then the real race began. The pack quickly jumped after us and we were soon topping 26-27mph coming into the turns. We were all back together in a bunch now, so I set the pace off the front holding a steady tempo and jumping on every turn. We quickly detached a group of 15-20 off the tail end of the pack who werent used to the intensity of the pace. I led two laps and then...it started raining. It rained on us hard for 10-15 minutes and now the course turned from slightly technical to downright treacherous. We continued to maintain a speed around 25mph, but each turn became a bit more dangerous as guys were sliding and fishtailing as we all pushed the pace (and limits of traction) to the edge. Finally, in the next to last lap the unthinkable, but inevitable happened. As we rounded turn three onto a straightaway (again, 6 riders wide) one of the Juniors riding in the middle of the bunch slid on the road paint, causing his rear tire to explode. The force of the tire exploding and his instant reaction of grabbing his brakes threw him up on his front wheel where he teetered (at 24mph) for a split second before going down on the road. Instantly the pack began imploding like a house of cards. Guys were going everywhere, some right into the downed rider, others over to the curb where they were thrown onto the sidewalk and grass, and others grabbing handfuls of brakes causing riders behind them to slam into them. It was chaos in a 5 second time span. I was directly behind the Junior whose exploding tire started the pileup, but managed to swerve around him without incident...or so I thought. As I was swerving I ran into one of the large potholes on the course, slamming my rear wheel so hard that it broke two spoke nipples and knocked my water bottle out of its cage. My rear wheel was warped, but able to turn and I could go without water for another lap or two so I just kept hammering. Having just narrowly missed a pileup, I sat up a bit. This race wasnt important enough to me to risk an injury, plus I had a race the very next day as well. But now the front pack was a tight group of 12-15 riders who had made it through the chaos and we were winding up for the final lap. The pace was ridiculously fast at this point and there was alot of jostling and body contact going into each turn. We entered the back straight and the team leadout trains came to the front of the pack. We rounded the corner safely and were on our last straightaway before the turn into the final sprint. The pack flew into the final turn...and then chaos began again as the right half of the field collapsed in the corner. I and a handful of riders were on the inside of the turn and we sprinted for the line, finishing in a fairly tight group. I came out sixth and unscathed for the day, which I decided was just fine by me.

I had made it through my first crit and picked up some valuable points towards a license upgrade. My family really enjoyed the race atmosphere as the announcers tried to keep the crowd involved the entire time. The only downside was my sister burst into tears when she saw the pileup at the end of my race...I guess she didnt see me get through it and was worried I was going to crash as well :) . We spent the rest of the day watching the other races, enjoying coffee from the small bakery next to the start, and taking pictures of the "Kid sprints" (straightaway sprint races for kids under the age of 10-VERY cute). We returned to the hotel, washed my race kit, and I worked on my wheel. I managed to pull my wheel back into true and we enjoyed a large Mexican dinner in preparation for the road race the next day.

I awoke feeling excited about the prospects for Orrville. This race was described as pancake flat, fast, and tough. Without any major climbs I was at a slight disadvantage and planned on sitting in the pack all day in preparation for the final sprint. However as I was taking my pre race warm up on the course, there was a significant headwind. I knew that a large part of the peloton had raced the crit yesterday so everyone's inclination was going to be to sit in out of the wind and wait for the final sprint. As I was warming up out on the road I devised my plan. I was up against a field of at least three 6-man teams in my category. I was the only Team Athens attendee for this race and wasnt going to be considered much of a threat by myself, plus no one really wants to chase in the wind. If I played it right and the peloton would give me a little bit of a leash, I might be able to make a break stick on a day like today. The race started out on a college campus and wove through a bit of tree cover before emerging into some of Ohio's most beautiful corn fields. The very instant you move from the trees to cornfields, you hit the wind head on like a brick wall. This would be one obstacle that the peloton would have to overcome to bring down a gap if I opened one. Another was the fact that at this same point on the road, we moved from smooth pavement to chip and seal road (ie not smooth). These roads had more rolling resistance, rougher surfaces, and are just harder to maintain speed on in general. That was obstacle number two the pack would need to overcome.

I rolled back to the start area with my plan formulated and ready to execute. I lined up right on the front line, no longer taking a back seat to other racers in my classification. I had proven myself over the course of this season and no one contested my spot. The race official blew the starting whistle and we headed out onto the road. I soft pedaled around 18-19mph and noone moved up to quicken the rollout so I stayed on the front waiting to see what the pack decided to do. We cruised through the trees enroute to my point of attack. Still no one had quickened the pace to more than 19mph as we were now getting some of the headwind from the flats of the surrounding area. As we crossed into the cornfields, I glanced at the faces around me and thought "Well if we are going to race...lets RACE". I changed up to the big ring and gunned it, instantly opening a gap of around 80 yards. The move took the pack by surprise at first, but I instantly had some chasers as the group organized to respond. I was maintaining a speed around 22mph off the front, with the winds buffeting me around with reckless abandon. The group was organized now and pulled itself up to me, but I didnt let the pace up. We hammered along at 23-25mph for several more miles and the back of the pack was completely decimated. Our group was now down to about half of its original size as we approached the first turn. I was third position as we hit the turn full on in a long drawn out paceline. The guy in second position attacked in the turn like it was a crit and opened a small gap. There were alot of people in pain at this point and no one moved to respond to him. He had a gap of over 20 seconds as we entered the second section of flats, but he was beginning to waiver. I jumped from the pack and bridged the gap. As I pulled up next to him, he glanced over and I said " You wanna go?" to which he answered a labored "yeah". I pulled in front of him and notched our pace back up to 24mph. As we approached the second turn we glanced back to see the peloton nearly 40 seconds down. We were gaining ground! It was only at this point that I thought we had a chance. We motored through the turn and took turns pacing the next 5 miles or so, but the pack never let us have more than a minute (I guess by this point they had decided we probably had the horsepower to stay away). As we approached the third turn on the square shaped route, Team Orrville sent a rider up to bridge the gap to our breakaway. He tucked into our draft and refused to do any pulling, simply sitting on like an anchor, sealing our fate to get swept up by the charging peloton. Which is exactly what happened: a group of 13 riders picked up our breakaway as we approached the finish line to begin our final lap on the course. Unbeknownst to us a large contingent of the riders who started the day with us were dropping out. They wouldnt even cross the finish line as they came straggling into the pit area one by one. The pace had REALLY put some hurt on some people I guess...

The rest of the race was fairly uneventful as I was pulled along with the front group. Several teams had leadout trains in our group and the pace was high, but not enough to dislodge any more members of this group. The finish went fairly typical: the teams positioned their sprinters the best they could and then everyone drag raced for the line. I sat up and crossed the line at the end of the group happy to have made my way into the final selection. As my results had slipped a bit from what I am used to, you would think I would have been dissappointed, however it was quite the opposite. I was elated. This race had been one of the toughest yet this season due to a number of factors (I am coming down from my peak fitness, windy, hot, HUGE field, etc.) and I had really proven to myself that I am a strong cyclist. From start to finish I had been on the sharp end of the peloton all day. What did I have to lose right? I was a lone rider up against full teams, we had all raced the day before so everyone was tired, and I always root for the breakaways anyway. Breakaway artists are some of the toughest racers in the field. They are the under dogs, the courageous few who venture out away from the pack to either pull off an unbelievable win or go down in a blaze of glory. They risk it all and in some races it works, other days it doesnt. The few times a breakaway escapes the clutches of the peloton are some of the most emotional wins you will ever see in a bike race. It is a true test of skill, power, and desire. Many times announcers will claim that the teams or pack is controlling the race, letting a breakaway dangle out front until the peloton decides it wants to reel them back in. However, I think its the opposite. I think the breakaway controls the race. The breakaway actually determines what the peloton is doing in that if they are allowed to break free, the peloton has lost the race. The peloton has to decide if they are going to chase the break or let it go, neither of which is a "fun" proposition. Of course we all know that sitting in all day is the way to increase your chances of winning. You conserve, plot, and plan your move for that final race to the line. But we are not all sprinters nor are we necessarily all after nothing but results. Racing is the classic mix of animosity, honor, cunning, and power. Many things that take place in a bike race are related to the unwritten code of ethics that all riders seem to follow by default. If a guy has been pulling all day at a tough pace, you share pulls with him. If a rider mounts attack after attack, he is not chastised but instead honored as being aggressive. If a leader wrecks or has a mechanical during a race, the peloton will slow to allow him to chase back on. Sometimes riders will "gift" a race to another racer who has aided them all day long. These are small things, that may not seem like much right now. But at the end of the day when everyone is completely blown and you have finished a race together, suffering along mile after mile the experience becomes very "Band of Brothers"-ish. You are connected to this group by something not easily described. Its the connection of knowing that to get this far we have all suffered similarly. We have all trained hard in preparation for facing off, head to head with one another.

While on the course the lead group may have all gritted our teeth, plotted, and punched the pace every so often just to hurt the guys hangin on our wheel, but after we cross the finish line there were congratulations all around. I had more guys shake my hand or pat me on the back on my cool down ride after this race than any other. I was even approached by one guy when I was sitting on the ground nursing a Gatorade just so he could ask me how I placed in the group. I didnt know as results weren't posted as of yet but he said, "I just wanted to shake your hand cause man, when you picked up the pace it really put alot of guys in a world of hurt. And then you attacked! I really thought you guys (the breakaway) had a shot at staying away today. Tough race!". He didnt realize it, but this meant more to me than any of the prizes I had picked up this season. At the end of the day we are not racing for money, prizes, or even sponsorship (although Team Athens was happy with my results). For most of us it isnt really that serious. We are just racing for the respect of the guy next to us. We race for camaraderie. We race because we can. We race to test ourselves in a way that the casual solo century or hard ride simply cannot possibly do. My family was able to see that this weekend I believe as they accompanied me in my travels. The said they now understand a bit better why Elizabeth and I get into bicycle racing so much. To me, the ability to open someone else's eyes/mind to cycling in such a way as this makes the expense and hassle of setting up bicycle races well worth it. If you have a chance I encourage everyone to get out and see a race this year...you can even ride with me to one ;) .

And to end I again want to say, "Pain is temporary, but quitting lasts forever."-Lance Armstrong

Hammer hard guys!

2009-08-09T12:44:00.001-04:00

Results are in...13th for the day...i am ok with that :)

2009-08-09T12:07:00.001-04:00

Tough tough day in the saddle...very hot...very windy...led a three man break but peloton kept us under a minute...finished in the front group...results pending but no top five :(

2009-08-09T05:49:00.001-04:00

Race day #2! Road race in Orrville, oh! 10am start today.

2009-08-08T09:41:00.001-04:00

Crazy wet day of racing...lots of crashes but managed sixth in a tough field...on to orrville!

2009-08-07T21:34:00.003-04:00

Off to the races! 8Am start tomorrow...ugh.

2009-08-07T21:34:00.001-04:00

Off to the races! 8Am start tomorrow...ugh.

Cheat Mountain Challenge

2009-08-06T12:19:00.001-04:00

What have I gotten myself into? Thats exactly what I was thinking as I looked over the course profile for the Cheat Mountain Challenge in Snowshoe, WV and read through some of the teams that were going to show up for this ride. I should be focusing on the races coming up this weekend, but on a whim I decided to look over the registration info for CMC.

The Cheat Mountain Challenge may on paper be presented as a scenic, supported century ride through the mountains of West Virginia, however I had been assured it is undertaken "race-style" by the team mates who had roped me into riding this event. Indeed even as I was registering I was presented with several choices for start times, one of which was "8am-Choose this time if you think of this ride as a race". As this was going to be my first CMC, a smarter man might have opted for a different start time, however I texted my team mates who all assured me they signed up for the 8am start...thus in the face of being considered a "weeny" I also opted into this time slot. I figured how hard could it be, right?

Well pretty hard apparently. I mean 110 miles with 10,000 feet of elevation gain is no joke in itself, but there is a difference between doing that at race pace and doing that at your leisure. I asked Ben (Cat 3 from Parkersburg) what they usually averaged on this ride, to which he answered close to 20mph for just a little under 6 hours....not the answer I was looking for. With a course with this much climbing, that is most definitely race pace. That is goin for broke race pace actually. I looked at the course profile and it resembles some of the harder stage profiles for the TdF this year. There are four major climbs and one smaller one. And when I say major, I dont mean the namby-pamby 1-2 mile climbs of central Ohio and West Virginia either. I mean full on, 10 mile slogfests with multiple switchbacks, thousands of feet of elevation gain, and taking at least 35-45 minutes EACH to climb. This is gonna hurt.

The CMC draws some fairly big names so the peloton is most assuredly going to be full of some heavy hitters (last year Jeremiah Bishop showed up at CMC as a training ride for his already stellar mountain bike race season). Ben's experience last year doesn't instill confidence in me either. Right after the start of the ride there is a 7 mile climb that effectively forces an early selection in the pack. Ben made it in the group of 20 or so riders to top out as the "lead pack" and hung on for a large part of the day. Each climb whittled the pack down by a few guys here and there, until there was a group of less than 10 riders off the front. At mile 60 the course once again turns upward for a full 10 miles of climbing. It was here that a group of five riders attacked, detached, and completely dropped the remaining few riders of the lead group. Ben was among the casualties left behind to finish in the chase group, several minutes off the "winning" time. Oh, and did I mention its a mountain top finish? Thats right, we climb up Cheat Mountain to the Snowshoe lodge to finish off the day. This little cherry comes in at 104 (out of 110.2) miles and will prove to be an extra special treat for those of us lucky enough to even make it there (there is a considerable drop out rate on this ride...).

Dont get me wrong, I am not complaining. The CMC is going to be fantastic! I am staying in the lodge with a few team mates and we will have full support all day long. Plus I am getting some swag from sponsors and the ride organizers to boot! Heck I am just hoping to finish the thing, but Ben seems to think this is The Ride for me. It definitely is going to be interesting to see how I stack up against some "actual climbers", you know the ones that are used to massive elevation fluctuations versus tons of foothills...I even heard that there is a contingent of Jelly Belly (Pro Team) staying in Pennsylvania which is definitely close enough for them to drop by...I am hoping to do nothing more than hold my own on this one. As of now I dont really anticipate attacking and just have a goal of making the initial selection on the first climb. Then we will see how long I can hang on before being spit off the back. It should be alot of fun and I will be sure to chronicle my experiences along the way!

Nutrition, Mindgames, and Dedication(s)

2009-08-04T05:45:00.000-04:00

Well if I thought my training was lackluster last week, this weekend was downright terrible. I had planned on taking a 35-40 mile ride with around 3500' of climbing on Saturday evening, but ended up with around 23 miles and just over 2000' of elevation gain instead.

If anyone has been following my Twitter updates (natmiller1983), you know that I have over the course of about 7 days broken numerous spokes on my rear wheel. At first I thought it was a fluke and simply sewed in two new spokes amongst the old...bad idea. Just a day later I had broken two more and had to limp home on a wobbly wheel. No bid deal I thought, so I bought the spokes and took Friday evening to zip up my wheel with ALL new spokes. I headed out of town Saturday evening on County Road 4. This route opens up with around 6-7 miles of fairly intense climbing. I was feeling REALLY good. The tempo was good and I was recovering well on the false flats. I could even attack at the top of the climb without too much trouble. I was ten miles in when I attacked a smaller roller and heard a loud "POP" from my rear wheel...I knew that sound all too well. I stopped and assessed the damage. To my dismay a spoke nipple had failed this time (stripped out) and I once again had a noticeable kick in my rear wheel. Now I am normally a very optimistic guy, but I was tired, hadnt eaten much that day, and this was just getting ridiculous. Part of me wanted to drop the bike and walk away right then and there. I know it seems minuscule now, but its hard to explain the places your mind goes when you are out on the bike for hours a day. Sometimes you are cruising along in complete bliss, barely feeling the effort, while other times it seems you are in your own personal nightmare. Suffering alone, sometimes in excruciating pain, but unable or unwilling to give up and risk your pride/fitness/overlying goal. Its at these times, when I feel myself approaching complete frustration, that I remind myself why I am doing this. I dont get paid to be out there and I am not in such need of attention that I have to train hard and win races or I will feel like a failure. I do it because I love it. Its a sport, a culture...its MY sport, MY culture. By reminding myself of those things I am able to pull myself back away from the edge and continue plugging along. I did just that on Saturday, reminding myself that it was only a training ride, that I am NOT a PRO whose livelihood relies on my performance, and that I had eaten horribly that day (A note here: we had gotten up late and I had been lacking carbs all week long. Instead I had filled up on meats and some fats = recipe to bonk as I ran out of glycogen). I limped on home on my once again wobbly wheel, having averaged 20.5mph over 23 miles. I then vowed to take the next day completely off the bike (which I did), drink water until I nearly exploded (which I did), and eat every carb that came across my path (which I did).

I woke up the next morning feeling energized and itching for a ride. I had my motivation back and was ready to move past my little mid-season "mental breakdown". I went out this afternoon and hammered on the flats, climbs, and downhills. I feel great and am completely motivated to get back on track! I took a look at the race schedule and realized that the next two weekends are back to back racing: Saturday, Aug. 8th - Garrett Wonders Memorial Criterium/Sunday, Aug. 9th - Smith Dairy Milk Road Race; Saturday, Aug. 15th and 16th - Cheat Mountain Challenge. This will be my first experience racing on back to back days (Aug. 8th-9th and Aug. 15th-16th) and I have to admit, I am interested/concerned to see how I recover. Race #1 will be in Westerville, OH at the Garrett Wonders Memorial Criterium (check out this link: http://garrettwondersrace.com/photo.html for a cool video outlining the racing and the memorial). This is a criterium style race doing laps on a 1.1 mile course in Westerville's downtown area. My race will do 10 laps with first place walking away with $200.00 in credit at the local bike shop. The next day I will travel to Orrville, OH to race in the Smith Dairy Milk Race which is a road style race on a 10 mile course (my category completes two laps). The following weekend I travel to Snowshoe, WV to ride with Team Athens in the 110 mile Cheat Mountain Challenge, which includes 10,000' of climbing (woohoo!). It sounds tiring just typing it...but I am stoked! I felt good today and plan on doing nothing but getting faster. I will have a few teammates in all but one of these races to support me and I anticipate good results in all events.

However, I realized something today as I was coming back from my training ride. I needed something to ride for in order to get excited. One thing I have noticed about alot of professional riders is they dedicate races to people (family members, heroes, etc.) which seems at times to help them defy the odds and come out on top. They have a motivation that drives deeper than the need for glory, money, or prizes. They are riding for honor, not theirs but for someone that is close to them. I have had a great season, enjoying several successful races and have definitely exceeded my own expectations, however there are a few people that deserve not only my thanks but my humble gratitude as well.

My family (Elizabeth Ann, Paul, and Baby Miller) has been with me all the way this season as I pursued my passion for biking and racing. They have attended every race in rain, heat, and/or mud. They have gotten stuck in a muddy parking lot at a mountain bike race with me, shivered in the rain to watch me cross the finish line at the Mountwood Challenge, held me up at the finish of a road race when I could barely stand, and given up numerous weekends and countless hours with me just so I could try my hand at this bike racing thing. They have been nothing but supportive, Elizabeth being the ultimate coach and sometimes providing the motivation or scheduling solution for me to get a specific training ride in. She has followed me in the car as I trained through the heat of summer and through torrential downpours, blasting music and pulling up beside me as a motivator. She and Paul hiked to the perfect spot on the hardest road climb I have done yet this season just so they could cheer me on as I passed. At the end of my races I can always pick my pit crew's cheers out of the din of the crowd, Elizabeth yelling "Finish strong" and Paul's little squeals of "Yeah, Dad" (even if it isnt me crossing the finish line, he now cheers "Yeah Dad" at every biker that passes). And when I signed on with Team Athens and they knew that would mean more races after I had said my season was over, my beautiful little family did not complain. They are the epitome of the perfect pit crew, providing food, water, and encouragement at every turn.

That is why I am dedicating my performance this coming weekend to them, my family. They are so unbelievably important to me and to my success (in everything, not just racing), its hard to describe. I NOW have something truly worth the fight to race for this weekend. Sadly, they will be traveling out of town on Friday, but even in their absence, knowing I have made a commitment to them in the form of a dedication will spur me along. I know that I may not win or even place, but I also know that my family wouldnt care anyway. Just knowing that I gave it my all and held nothing back is enough to make them proud. So guys, this one is yours. Wherever I place or however it ends know that the one thing that kept me going was the mantra of "Finish strong, Yeah Dad" replaying over and over in my head. I love you.

Still in training...

2009-07-31T10:06:00.001-04:00

Well this week has been lackluster as far as training goes. I have been posting good numbers but it just doesn't "feel" good. I am possibly hitting the wall with regards to motivation and hanging onto my fitness, which is unfortunate considering I have at least three events left and I have now gotten hooked on trying out cyclocross this season.

I have done my homework and the Smith Dairy race in Orrville (which is next weekend) is a virtually flat course and will prove to be super fast. Past race results indicate that a breakaway works if it is near the end of the race and the peloton has been lazy all day. There is a slight rise around mile 16 (its a 20 mile race) which is where I will launch out if nothing has happened to that point. I am going to this race with a secret weapon: I am an unknown. This is an Ohio Series race so literally no one save my teammates will know me there. My plan is to sit in mid-pack all day and monitor attacks until the end. Then hopefully I can launch on the slight uphill and hold off attacks until the finish....OR I will try to catch second or third wheel on the bunch sprint and try my luck finishing in the craziness. Only time will tell. From race photos and past times the pace looks to be extremely fast and Ben says this is the only race where has been dropped on the flats. Another interesting fact is that Orrville Cycling (the local team and sponsoring club for this race) seems to fill a large chunk of the top ten each year, which proves that knowing the route is going to be advantageous. A small contingent of our team will be there and I hope we beat the pants off of Orrville. I for one will once again be chasing that ever elusive win at this race as I have not pulled one out all season. I will have at least one other team mate in my category (Cat 5) to pace with during the race. Once I attack I will be on my own though, and will not have a teammate able to protect me against counter attacks. Following the race I will be able to upgrade my license and race as a Cat 4 (which I realized that I had disseminated misinformation in my last post. The Long Street Crit in Columbus has a purse of $2500 not $1250. The winner will receive $1250 for first, not $250. Hence, we would really like to do well there...).

In an effort to keep my life and training organized, I am reassessing my current training program. As I will now be not only extending my road season through September but am planning on a competitive cyclocross season as well, adopting a periodized training schedule is my only hope of keeping from burning out completely. Ideally I would be able to take a break from the road and start in on a cyclocross specific training program following 7-10 days off the bike...however as I am still in the midst of road season I am going to have to settle on just working in some cyclocross drills/workouts for now. For anyone that may be unfamiliar with cyclocross races, they can best be described as an hour of torture in the dead of winter. Cyclocross bikes look like road bikes with knobby tires and races consist of making laps of 1.5-2 mile courses. A race course is normally held in open fields or on old golf courses and can have a variety of obstacles worked into them like: singletrack sections, sand pits, "run-ups" (muddy hills or stair steps that are impossible to climb on the bike), and barriers. Akin to the steeplechase, cyclocross involves cycling, running, and lugging your bike over anything and everything that is in your path. While each race lasts an hour or less, they are held rain, sleet, snow, or shine during the winter months as a way to maintain race intensity training through the inclimate weather typical of this time of year. It is said you either love or hate cyclocross, but no one just "kind of" enjoys it.

I am under no false impressions, it sounds horrible. But those that have done it say it is alot of fun too. So I am gonna try it out. I am in the midst of a cyclocross bike build up and should have it put together mid-August or so. I can pretty much keep my current training program but will need to add some interval sessions, cyclocross specific training days, and....running. Thats right, running. Quite possibly my most hated outdoor activity EVER, however at least I will only need to do 30-40 minute running workouts as cyclocross involves more explosive power than it does endurance.

So in case any of you thought you wouldn't hear any more about racing as winter approaches...think again, haha. This season has been one adventure after another, and should prove to be just as interesting as we move into Fall and Winter. Hopefully I can keep everything in this delicate balance as we move forward. I constantly strive to remember that racing is something that I DO it is not who I AM. I AM a husband, father, son, friend, and employee as well as a racer. As long as I remember that, my race results can do nothing but improve.

Have a great one guys and hammer hard!

Mont Ventoux!

2009-07-25T11:38:00.002-04:00

Well the TdF is pretty much over. The stage tomorrow ending on the Champs Elysees is pretty much just a formality and Contador has clenched his second Tour win.

In honor of the penultimate stage of the Tour (ending with a mountaintop finish on Mont Ventoux), our team had planned an early...early morning ride. Originally the ride was going to be around 90 miles with over 9000 feet of climbing, however following the early morning cloudburst while the team was suiting up in Ben's driveway, plans changed and we ended up doing a hard 41 miles with nearly 3000 feet of climbing instead.

I am really not sure how this got around, but I am classified as a "climber". I am something of an unassuming climbing specialist however, as I am a lean 170 lbs. which wont put me in the Clydesdale class, but is a sight larger than the typical 140-150lbs. of a normal "climber". However, everyone on the team has already heard I like to climb, so when I showed up this morning I got comments like "Ah Contador is here" or "You are going to hate us today". Apparently our route had been picked especially for me...bad omen. Its hard to describe the feeling of knowing that an entire group of guys is gunning for you...overwhelmed doesnt even cover it. I had been fighting a cold for a couple days but managed to drag myself out of bed and pop some medicine prior to our 6:30am start...but now I was starting to second guess my decision.

We suited up and headed out, clipping at an easy pace to wake everyone up. We chatted about the Tour, who our favorites were for today's stage (mine was Kloden), etc. and then approached the first climb. The first climb was around 5 minutes in length with an average gradient around 7%. There was one switchback on the climb partway up. We hit the climb and I knew this was expected to be my time to shine (I had not ridden with other members of Team Athens yet, so they are still trying to fit me into the "sorting out"). I set the pace into the bottom part of the climb and instantly a Cat 3 jumped on my wheel. We drilled it to the switchback and had dropped any challengers. At the switchback I gunned it and opened a gap to finish the climb alone, my nearest competitor following around 15 seconds down.

Now before everyone thinks ill of me, you have to understand that there are group rides where we go out with the intention to just ride and then there are the rides in which you are there to throwdown with anyone who is interested. Today was designed as one of the latter rides, so my accelerations were warranted. As I said, the guys on the team are still trying to feel me out so I needed to "make a good impression".

Following the climb, I backed off and the group came back together. We entered some long, flowing rollers. Now the descenders came to the front and the pace picked up considerably. There was a small split in the group and we started to string out on the descent down into a valley. I was tucked in behind another Cat 3 and bridged from him up to the front guy. I took a short pull and attacked on a small incline. He couldnt follow and I finished the downhill out front.

As we cruised along, Ben (Cat 3) pulled up next to me. I was feeling good, but couldnt tell what everyone else was thinking... He said, "Man, I knew you were fast, but I couldnt hold your wheel on the climb and then you have attacked relentlessly. Nice ride! I would vouch that you could upgrade as Cat 3 instead of Cat 4" (unfortunately it doesnt really work like that, but the thought is nice anyway, haha).

We hit another (the most brutal) climb in a few miles and I was able to set a pace that pushed the Cat 3 group to a time 30 seconds faster than they EVER climb it. A few sections later we are in the flats and NOW the flatland specialists move up and start to put the hurt on. Ben is a great all arounder and really started pushing the pace as he lead the group out through the valley. We were nearing the final climb of the day, which was long and exposed. As we hit the bottom it was Ben and I together. As the road pitched upward so did our pace and I knew he was putting in an effort to drop me. He was out of the saddle and I was in a bit of difficulty, but stayed on his wheel until we were near the final quarter mile of the climb. We were both laboring at this point, but I dropped a gear and pulled around him. As my front wheel passed his I attacked and pulled clear to top out on the climb alone. We cruised on back to the house, topping 37mph (...thats an average) for two miles on the way there. We pulled in and waited for the others to roll in.

The ride was great and I felt really good based on my performance. At the end of the day, I was invited to race with the Cat 3 squad in the Long Street Criterium in Columbus this coming September. The Cat 3/4 race purse is worth a combined $1250 with $250 going to First place. If I am able to attend we will have 5 guys gunning for the line for Team Athens and as such would have a pretty good chance at bringing home some glory (and cash) from this race. I will keep you posted on more rides and races as they come up, the first one being the Smith Dairy race. Keep hammerin'!

2009-07-25T09:26:00.001-04:00

Over 41 miles with around 3000' of climbing...tough ride but felt strong! More later...

2009-07-25T06:30:00.001-04:00

Team Ride! Lots of climbing on tap!

2009-07-24T22:17:00.001-04:00

Early morning ride with some teammates in honor of the mont ventoux stage of the tdf tomorrow!

Thursday Night Slowdown...

2009-07-23T23:40:00.003-04:00

Well our Thursday night ride has come and gone. Normally this ride draws the fastest and bravest of our area, however lately this summer I have to say that attendance has been...eh, lacking. Tonight there were a scant three of brave souls that showed up...well four. Joe K. showed up for the ride...with a broken spoke on his beautiful carbon fiber wheelset. The wheel was so horribly out of true that even with the brakes open he could not spin the wheel freely.

We left him at the meeting spot and headed into the hills of Ohio, looming storm clouds long gone and being greeted with fresh new sunshine. The listserv email had said a "moderate paced recovery ride" which is pretty much what it says every week. And normally the ride starts out fairly leisurely, but heats up to a solid boil by the end. Tonight on the other hand, it looked like it was really going to be a recovery ride. As we climbed on into Washington county, the pace was barely above 15mph and we had already popped one of our comrades off the back.

Now mind you, I had come loaded and foaming at the mouth for some attacks. The Tour is in full swing, I have ridden by myself all week, and yesterday was a rest day. Tonight I was gunnin for whoever was lookin for it. However, as we clipped along talking about work, the economy, and the local racing scene I settled into the recovery pace and just enjoyed the ride. Sometimes its easy to be so focused on the "end goal" that we forget the beauty and simplicity of just riding a bike. Tonight, I just was happy to take it all in.

We road along CR8 and then transitioned to SR530. Once on 530, the pace quickened a little bit, however I think it was just in anticipation of the upcoming climb. SR530 is mostly rolling, except for one 1.5 mile climb that is not only fairly sustained, but brutally steep. As we hit the base of the climb, one guy dropped off the back and the other tried to hang with me for a few meters...however I had been holding this in all evening. I dropped the hammer, shed my follower and opened a significant gap as I climbed the remainder of the hill. When I turned around, there were obviously no answering attacks and werent going to be...so I backed off and let the other guys catch back on. Then that was it. We rolled back into town, chatting the whole time and then parted ways. No attacks, no sprints for town signs, just a ride between friends.

And honestly, it was great! I truly enjoyed it. And while tonight was literally more like the Thursday night Slowdown (we averaged 17.5mph), I know that there are plenty of hard, insanely fast group rides left this year. I need not worry about getting my tempo rides accomplished in the weeks to come as I have a packed racing schedule and some tough training days with teammates already on the calendar. So goodnight to you all and remember to enjoy those recovery days...as they seem so few and far between!

2009-07-23T17:24:00.001-04:00

Hang on to your hats boys and girls...the Thursday Night Throwdown is about to commence!

'Cuz it hurts so good

2009-07-23T09:01:00.000-04:00

Well I have signed my contract, applied for my USAC/UCI racing license, and preregistered for my three upcoming events. Thanks for all the notes of support from everyone, they are appreciated!

While reading through my contract a few things popped out at me that I thought I would share. First, we are considered a "development team". A large part of our mission is to garner interest in racing in Ohio and the surrounding areas, develop local talent, and provide advertising opportunities for our sponsors. On paper, this may not look any different than riding with a club and getting some free stuff, however the reality of our responsibilities is driven home best by our recent performance in the Ohio State Criterium Championships. As a development team, we are privileged to attend the Pro-Am race series in Ohio, Pennsylvania, and West Virginia and can potentially race with any of the Pro teams within the United States (think Garmin-Slipstream or Jelly Belly). Because of this the potential for publicity is heightened at the races and therefore our sponsors would obviously like some face time. Ben of Team Athens was our hope for a Cat1/2/3 win at the Crit Championships this year. From the gun he charged off the front of the peloton and stayed away for 5 laps of a 6 lap race. Heroic yes, however he was eventually swallowed up by the peloton and ended up in 21st place (even that is not too shabby though). Ben was happy with his performance and the first thing he said to me was "At least I got some press for our sponsors". As soon as I heard that I knew this was a different ballgame altogether.

The further I read down through the contract, the more interesting things got. Any prize money won by the team is split evenly, there is a hierarchy of membership even within the team, and any event we do (charity ride, race, etc.) we are expected to wear a Team Athens kit.

Now some of those reading may be thinking "Wow, that doesnt sound fun at all." But understand that road cyclists follow an unwritten "Code of conduct". Splitting the prize money makes sense because whether or not it looks like it, competitive cycling is a team sport. Within a team you would hope to have a pool of talent for each part of a road stage: climbers for the hills, time trialists for the flats, and sprinters for the finale. Over the length of a course, each team member would play a part in delivering the team captain to the line first, even if it meant sacrificing their own chances for glory. The climbers are pulled along on the flats by the time trialists until they reach the hills. Then the climbers take over and set tempo for their captain while the time trialists are left to get over the hills as best they can. Following the hills, hopefully there will still be some sprinters left in the bunch to deliver the the final push at the end of the race for the finish line. So, while it is true each man is riding his own race, at the end of the day if you have ridden as a team, everyone should share in the spoils.

On our team there is a hierarchy of membership simply because anyone is able to join the team. You can be a non-competitive rider and buy the team kit, ride on the training rides, and be part of the listserv mailing list, however you are not afforded the privileges of "Racers and Elite Racers". The Racer category is filled by Cat 3/4/5 riders and requires that you either are experienced in a large number of races or have placed considerably well in a handful of races. You are afforded sponsorship at this level and are eligible for some of the perks associated with the cycling team (reimbursement for some races, members only treatment at some of the local sponsors, some free stuff). Elite racers are Cat 1/2 riders that not only are experienced but bring home consistent results. This is the level that everyone strives to achieve, as they get the best deals from sponsors, free clothing, and full reimbursement for races/travel. Few riders reach this status, however those that do are some of the fastest guys you will ever ride with. Essentially these are the guys that the ProTour teams search out when they are looking for new up and coming riders to go Pro. We have a handful on our team and they are FAST. I was asked to be in the "Racer" category of the team, so I have some sponsorship deals and will be getting my team kit as soon as they come in from the clothing sponsor. I plan on riding with the team at least a few times a week (they have tempo rides on Tuesdays, mock races on Wednesday, and Group rides on Thursdays and Sundays) and obviously will be racing with the team a handful of times this summer. They are also trying to get me into cyclocross...which I am not sure of yet but time will tell.

The feel of the team is fairly casual and our race requirements are laid back (we dont have a set number of races we need to enter in a year). Everybody races because they want to and we do well because we push the limit for ourselves, as much as our sponsors. While there may be a bit more pressure to do well than if you were an "unattached" rider, the excitement of being part of a sponsored team is hard to describe. Essentially, this is the "minor leagues" of cycling...but you can race with the guys in the "majors". What other sport allows that? What other sport is so simple and pure? What other sport has such raw courage, strategy, and pure physical animosity?

I have never seen suffering like that of a man on a bike, utterly destroyed but still pushing his body into the oblivion of pain just to be able to cross the top of a mountain first. I have never seen such courage as that of the breakaway soloist that forges ahead for hundreds of kilometers, knowing full well his chances of making it to the line alone are slim to none. In no other sport have I seen the ability of athletes to push themselves so far past the point of pain that they literally cannot stand, walk or sit without support...and then say it was a good day. Cycling is a sport that every man, regardless of ability can experience in exactly the same way. Every cyclist has felt the burn of intensity in his/her legs and lungs as they crest a hill, everyone has fought the temptation to throw their arms up in a victory salute each time they finish a ride or pass a town sign, and every cyclist has crawled off their bike only to slump onto a seat or the ground because they pushed themselves so hard/long/fast it is impossible to support their own weight. We have all experienced these things...and they are what keeps us coming back. When I was younger, Joe H. and I would joke that if someone forced you to bike, it would be considered torture rather than pleasure. And its true, cyclists do seem to be masochists, however we are a community bonded by a similar experience. We are a community of sufferers. We suffer so we can feel the elation of beating the next guy to the line, taking on the mountain pass, or surpassing a distance barrier that has plagued us for years. We suffer because knowing the limits of your body and understanding how to push past them is a lost art. It connects us to our past, to those great cyclists that have gone on before us, that have suffered ceaselessly to prove that the human body is capable of so much more than we give it credit for.

So for the remainder of the season, I plan on suffering...alot. I do it "cuz it hurts so good".

New Developments

2009-07-19T15:57:00.002-04:00

Alright, alright I know. I said my racing season was over...and it was...until this week.

I had been going about my business, just riding for fun and less for training this week when I received an email back from one of the guys on the Thursday night ride mailing list. I knew that this guy was touted as being the fastest road guy in Marietta or Parkersburg and that he raced for a team out of Athens, Ohio. He invited me to come over to Parkersburg for a group ride sometime this week and we eventually got it worked out to do a ride on Friday night after work.

I arrived in the Park n Ride parking lot in time to get my bike and bottles ready and to get a short warm up in before my riding partner showed up. He arrived in full race kit and we took off, heading out Rt.50 trying to dodge the rain. We chatted as we clipped along around 22mph and to my astonishment he knew as much if not more of my stats than I did. He had raced at the New Martinsville race and was in the front breakaway all day (he races in the Cat.1/2/3 class). He knew I had placed second there and had seen me take second place at the Phillipi race as well. He had also heard from numerous sources (apparently guys I had ridden with on the Thursday night rides) that I was fast and a specialized climber. The route we took on Friday was a fairly hilly climbing route that he normally did a few times a week. We averaged 20mph over 23 miles without really putting down to tough of a pace.

Towards the end of our ride he mentioned he raced for Team Athens and they were looking for new members for the upcoming race season. He said that I would be a strong addition to the team if I was interested (to which I replied something like, "Uh, well heck yeah!").

So in short, I am now in the process of becoming the newest member of Team Athens, an amateur level cycling team out of Athens, Ohio. We are around 20 riders strong with a few Cat.2 riders, a handful of Cat. 3s, and numerous Cat. 4s (me!) and Cat. 5s. We have racers in a race nearly every weekend through the summer (the guy I rode with Friday just placed 21st overall in the State of Ohio Criterium Championship today, having forged a 5 lap solo effort off the front before being swallowed up by the peloton). We race time trials, criteriums, road races, and some cyclocross events. Our sponsors include GU, Ritchey, Fluid, Polar, Kenda Tires, and KT Prototypes Ltd.

I am back in training again as I now will be attending the Smith Valley Road Race in Orrville, OH ; The Cheat Mountain Challenge in Snowshoe, WV ; and the Valley City Street Fair Road Race in Valley City, Oh (all Team events).

I just got word back that I will be able to upgrade to Cat 4 following the completion of the Smith Valley Road Race, so I will be applying for my UCI racing license in mid-August. I will, as always, try to update this blog on my progress in this new cycling journey!

For more info on the team go here: http://www.teamathenscycling.com/

and for a picture of our Team Kit go here: http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SshPHSxa2qE/SZbT5eUHEGI/AAAAAAAAA7M/6N6ijgEVAWg/s1600-h/TA-Jersey-Final.jpg

2009-07-18T08:46:00.001-04:00

Ok so apparently my race/ride results have gained me a reputation. I have been invited to join a local USA Cycling sanctioned road/cyclocross team. Received the official paperwork this morning...more on this later!

The Finale

2009-07-05T08:26:00.001-04:00

Well my season has officially drawn to a close and I certainly was able to go out with a bang! Elizabeth, Paul and I pulled into the Philippi municipal parking lot at 9:05am this morning and were greeted with an already packed event area. As soon as I glanced around at the faces in the lot I knew today’s race was gonna be fast and I probably had little chance of pulling away on a solo break.

I had underestimated when I said some of the heavy hitters would show up today as nearly ALL of them were in attendance. Today’s race was the final series race for the West Virginia Road Association and would serve as the “Championship” as the points standings following the race would determine the overall Series winners. Plus it was Fourth of July weekend, there was a crit in Morgantown the night before, and a mountain bike points series race on Sunday starting in Philippi. So needless to say this race drew some attention. I was familiar with a number of the riders already starting their warm ups on the downtown streets of Philippi and knew instantly my race strategy needed to change. However, whereas in my first few races I was a bit timid out on the course, this time I knew I could mix it up with these guys and maybe even pull out a win if I kept my head about me. As I had not gotten a chance to pre-ride the course, I listened to snippets of conversation in the pits as I prepped my bike and learned that the initial 2 mile climb out of town was the longest/toughest on the course and that this hill in reverse would be our approach to the sprint finish at the end of the race.

I finished my typical pre-race prep and headed out for my warm up. I followed two Cat 4/5 guys out of town and paced them on the approach to the first climb. We hit the climb and rode it at a 17mph average, which was quick but sustainable for all of us and I heard one of the guys say he was goin to hit the gas on the initial climb to split the pack. That was fine by me, as I had seemingly prepped perfectly for this course with my long sustained climbing intervals followed by time trial efforts over rolling terrain. I turned around and made the descent back into town, downed a water bottle, and lined up with plenty of time to hear the final pointers from the race meeting. The Cat 1/2/3 guys would start first and make two laps of the road course before coming back into town for the sprint. We (Cat 4/5) would make one lap and then finish with a closed course sprint for the line. The final two turns were sharp and treacherous before the long straightaway run for the line, so technical handling skills would come into play and it could get hairy at the end.

The Cat 1/2/3 guys started and we waited our obligatory 5 minutes to give them a gap and then we started our roll out of town. The Cat 4/5 peloton started out with around 30 racers and we clipped out of town at 22mph. As we hit the bottom of the first climb I was sitting in at about midpack and saw the guy I followed on my warm up go around the outside to move to the front. As I had heard his plan to drive the pace early, I made my way through the sea of bikes and bodies and followed closely on his wheel. As he reached the front end of the peloton we were climbing at a pace around 18mph. He and another guy in a yellow jersey started cranking and bumped the pace up to over 20mph on the climb. A group started to unhinge on the back part of the peloton, but the main pack could all hack the pace and we all crested the hill together in a bunch.

Following the first climb, the course was mostly flat and rolling with very good pavement. By this point the race was really “on” and our pace was averaging 24mph even on the periodic small climbs. I was comfortably sitting in positions within the top 10 (our group now was around 20) but was only taking short fast pulls and getting out of the way so others would take their turns. A handful of riders were taking long hard pulls and staying out front for extended periods of time. Every now and then one of them would get a bit restless and jump away on a climb or flat, but they were only allowed to gain a lead of 15-20 seconds before the peloton would methodically reel them back in. With no race radios and a fairly short 33 mile course, no one was willing to let a break get out of sight up the road, thus my strategy was sitting in and biding time.

I did learn something new on this route though…I hate sitting in. Its boring and I hate the bickering at the front of the peloton when everyone knows that the course is suited for a sprint finish. No one wants to take pulls, so there is a lot of jostling around with the peloton being three or four rows wide and the front guys looking at one another expecting the others to pull through and start a paceline. But since everyone knows a break wont last, no one is dumb enough to start a paceline to pull off the front. Its this never ending cycle of expectant looks and quiet cursing and I am just not a fan. I spent most of the day being fed up by this display and so finally took a flyer out of frustration on the final climb before the downhill back into town.

We were still 10 miles out and had just hit the bottom of the final climb. The front of the peloton was again jostling around trying to figure out who was going to take a pull and so I shot out and around them, cranking hard for about half of the climb. I turned around hoping to have seen at least one or two guys who had followed but I was completely alone. I was only about 5 seconds up on the peloton and knew that I would get caught as there was a strong headwind now. I quietly verbalized my disdain for the non-aggressiveness of this race and tapped my brakes so I could get swallowed back up by the charging group. We finished the climb in a bunch once again and began our final descent into Philippi. We were descending at around 44mph when one of the guys to my right tapped a wheel in front of him and went into a skid in the middle of the pack. Thankfully, he was able to control it and stay upright, as a pileup at that speed would have sent a great number of racers to the hospital.

After everything settled down again, I decided that I was going to try getting off the front. No one was pushing hard yet and we were within 2 miles of the finish. I pulled in behind a tall fella in a yellow jersey, clicked up a few gears and then shot out from the side of the group and hammered for a count of ten. When I glanced behind me I realized it was to no avail as the peloton train was hooked right onto my wheel. I quickly pulled to the side and let a group of 10 or so riders pass. Just as I was moving into the paceline, the front of the pack attacked. We were now within city limits and it was a drag race to the line. I managed to stay hooked onto the front of the pack as the remainder of the field was decimated and we motored into the final rise of the course. I moved up to a midpack position as we neared the technical turns prior to the straightaway finish. We flew into the first turn over 40mph and things were starting to get a little sketchy. I was on the inside and gunned it right before my wheels would have touched the curb to move up to 6^th position. As we rounded the second turn, we were leaning into it so hard that my pedal clipped the pavement and threw me upright. I barely noticed how close I had been to mishap though as now it was full bore to the line. Everyone was redlined and it was complete mayhem as our group of 10 screamed into view of the finish. I gave it everything I could muster and managed to nip a guy at the end to finish a solid fifth in the bunch.

I felt amazingly spry and while I was fatigued, was not completely drained. I knew I had done well but didn’t realize how well until the results were read. I once again managed to come in 2^nd in my category and to my surprise, was awarded 2^nd overall in the WVRR Series points competition for 2009!

I can definitely say that I will be back for more fast paced racing action next year! I had a ton of fun and will be upgrading categories for next season (which is automatically done after taking podium finishes in four or more events in one year). I learned a lot and plan on starting in on a new training block following a few weeks’ worth of R&R off the bike. I hope everyone had a happy and safe Fourth of July and see you next year!

2009-07-03T16:22:00.001-04:00

Ok so I am now uberdork as I am writing this post from my phone, but eh who cares, right? Well I just took my final preparation ride for tomorrows race and I am ready! Time to open it up!!!

Season nearing a close...

2009-06-30T14:52:00.000-04:00

Well it is almost here. The culmination of my cycling season takes place this weekend, Saturday, July 4th in Philippi, WV at the Barbour de Tour Road Race. This is the final race on the WVRRS circuit before the state championships and my final race of the season. Essentially the entire season has been building up to this one race and I hope to go out with a bang!

I have had good fitness and luck this season, finishing on the podium in all of the races I have attended, however I am in peak condition now and am focused on taking the category win at the Barbour de Tour. As this is the last chance to gain points prior to the state championship, there are sure to be some heavy hitters showing up. I expect to see many of the same faces that have been around the race pits all season and by this point know who to look out for. The route is termed "hilly" but is not a climber's course and has finished in a field sprint for the past three years running. With the fairly fast (around 22mph) average speed from last year's race, I imagine the case will be much the same again this year.

The course starts in downtown Philippi with a controlled roll out of town. Almost immediately after the controlled section, the one and only significant climb of the course begins. It is a bit over a mile of 6-8% grade and could prove to make an early selection depending on how everyone's legs are feeling. However, with nearly 30 miles of flat course following the initial climb, the likelihood of escaping early and staying away is minimal. My race strategy is fairly simple: I am going to play the hand I am dealt. I want to stay in the bunch long enough to feel out some of the competition and conserve energy, but after that I want to be able to adapt to race conditions. If I find myself out front and feeling good I may try a flyer with the hopes that a few of the more aggressive in the bunch will follow. With a strong 5-6 guys we could probably stay away until the end, and I am more confident in a small sprint than a packwide sprint anyway. Or I might sit in all day and then jump off the front when we are around 5 miles out, who knows. I am feeling good and have already begun tapering so I am fresh for the big event.

The 33 mile length of this course is well within my comfort zone and I should be able to hammer from start to finish without really hurting until the very end. I only have two concerns: One being that according to all of the data (heartrate, speed, field tests) I have collected over the season, it appears that I peaked about a week ago. Thus by the time the race rolls around I will have been in my peak fitness for a little over two weeks. Supposedly an athlete should be able to perform at their peak for around 5 weeks before they begin to breakdown/burnout. I am just hoping that figure is correct and I do not burn out too early. My training rides are now focused on pure speed and I normally finish with such animosity that I need a little downtime afterwards to recover. However, I am recovering fully between rides so that is a good sign. Also, my enthusiasm for racing has not waned at all. If anything, I am more excited about this race than any of the ones before (although my enthusiasm for training is admittedly beginning to wear a bit...).

My second concern is that I have been feeling a bit of stiffness in my left knee following hilly training rides. This is most likely due to the intensity of pushing big gears on some of the climbs and I have begun to try to spin up the hills rather than relying on leg strength to propel me upwards. I have scheduled a deep tissue massage prior to Saturday and am taking it easy on my leg up until then as well. I just hope that no ill effects rear their ugly heads during competition. I have a week's vacation planned following the event, so I am going to try to use that time to take some time off the bike and crosstrain with other activities to give my knees a break.

Other than my concerns, I am pretty much set for the race. I am trying to use the lessons I have learned in race preparation/strategy from my early season races to get me through this weekend. Some things in particular I have learned this season are:

1) Train hard, but rest when needed. There are times when I feel good enough to go out and hammer day after day, but then there or those weeks when the responsibilities of being an employee, husband, father, son, and mechanic/handyman get to be a bit more exhausting and I just dont have the energy to spend 25 hours on the bike. Realizing its ok to take a couple rest days becomes very important at this point, as you need to learn to listen to your body.

2) Schedule your races carefully and be flexible. I loaded up the early part of my season with several races of various types and lengths which helped me race into shape. Then the mid part of my season was broken up by other obligations such as weddings, family gatherings, etc. and I did not race for over a month. Sometimes that break is important to give you a rest mentally and physically from the rigors of racing. I missed a race this past weekend because of a scheduling conflict that was going to be very tough to make work. Instead I elected to conserve energy and take an extra rest day and this week I am faster than ever.

3) Dont be afraid to eat. On my heavy training weeks, I eat everything in sight...and still drop weight. If your body isnt properly fueled it cannot perform to its utmost potential. I stick to pastas, grains, whole proteins, and fruits and veggies. Race day I start out with cereal and coffee, then have a high carb snack right before the event.

4) Ride with people who are faster than you, but not all the time. I ride in several group rides of varying intensities throughout the week. Sometimes I am introducing new cyclists to riding, other times I am pounding on every climb for imaginary "KOM" points. At least once a week I ride with a group of mountain bikers that can quite handily grind me into the dirt. On the road I can drop every one of them on a climb, escape the pack on the flats, and sprint to win every town sign...but when they get me on the trails they repay the favors. They spin away on short technical climbs and have me gasping for breath as we zip through tight twisty singletrack. However, I am slowly improving and am able to keep up much better after a full season of brutal beatings on the dirt. Some day I will hopefully not get dropped on the trails, but until then I keep going back (no matter how painful it is) so that I can continue to improve.

5) Finally, ENJOY THE EXPERIENCE! If at any point you begin dreading getting back in the saddle, there is something wrong and you need a break. I normally bike commute to work, ride on lunch break, and ride after work. But there are weeks where I enjoy the simplicity of driving into work instead. I used to feel bad about that fact, but have come to realize I just need to do what makes me happy. I love the freedom of being on a bike knowing I can accomplish any distance, get over any obstacle, all under my own power. But the days that I just dont feel like riding, I dont. I do something else: kayak, walk, hike with the family, whatever. I stay active, but I balance biking with the rest of my life. I have to realize that biking is something that I DO, its NOT who I am.

So in short, I am ready. I am set to perform the best I have all season in this upcoming race. And maybe that will mean a podium finish, even a category win. But that also may mean not being on the podium at all, and thats ok by me. As long as I give it what I've got and leave it all on the race course I will deem this season a success. So as I toe up to the line this Saturday, I will be thinking of all of the ProTour teams doing the same in Monaco as they begin the Tour de France. As corny as it may sound, every racer shares the same types of experiences regardless of their category classification. We all have spent hours in the saddle alone. Countless training rides have included rain, snow, extreme heat, close calls and irate drivers. We have pushed our limits and ridden to near exhaustion in the hopes of increasing our overall power by just a few watts here or there. We escape imaginary packs, sprint against the fastest invisible sprinters never seen, and descend like madmen to chase back onto the tail end of the nonexistent front group. Our group rides regularly turn into hammerfests at the end of which everyone is redlined, but so indescribably satisfied we wonder why we ever stop. We are racers, cyclists and friends that adhere to one rule: "Pain is temporary, but quitting lasts forever."

I invite all of you guys to come this Saturday to Philippi, WV for the Barbour de Tour. Race begins at 10am and is a road style loop course, beginning and ending in downtown Philippi. You should be able to see the start, first climb, and finish without too much driving. Let me know if you need directions.

OMBA Point Series Race #4-The Wilds, Ohio

2009-05-18T22:58:00.001-04:00

Well another weekend of racing down and more valuable lessons learned. This weekend we traveled to The Wilds near Cumberland, OH to race the Ohio Mountain Bike Association Points Race #4.

I was a bit uneasy about my performance for this particular race because the Tuesday prior to race day I had attended an impromptu short track throwdown...and had my rear handed to me by some of the local "hard noses". Granted the group included two multi-year West Virginia Mountain Bike Association Points champions and a well known Sport Veteran regularly finishing in the top 10 in local events, but I still felt I should have been in better condition at this point of the season. I had spent most of the evening chasing their wheels as we made laps of one of the tougher trails in Marietta, after which I soft pedaled home mending my bruised ego. Work was also picking up, so my stress level was increasing and my nutrition had taken a turn for the worst. Additional projects at work had led to skipped meals, less water, and more caffiene. I entered the weekend feeling a bit tired, and nowhere near as ready for Sunday's race as weeks prior.

Race morning I was feeling a bit better after a good night's rest and some late night carbo-loading. We drove up to The Wilds, I registered, and did my usual warm-up of fast pedaling, a few tempo climbs, and a sprint or two. I still was feeling a bit "off" but there wasn't much I could do about it now, so I lined up with my class in the typical staggered start pattern and prepared for the mayhem to begin. The OMBA breaks their race divisions up a bit differently than the WVMBA and that made my class the unequivical heavy-weights in terms of sheer number of participants. We were stacked 4 deep in a large mass at the start line, awaiting our turn to hit the trails. The whistle was blown and we once again tore out of the start area like mad men. The approach to the trails was a downhill section of double track road, and our mass of cyclists all but choked the road completely. A small gap quickly opened up, with the faster of the group laying the hammer down early to get a better position on the trail. I was midpack in the front group and knew we were approaching the first singletrack section so I switched up to the big ring, passed two more guys and slid into the first turn of singletrack in around 7th position.

I hadnt had a chance to pre-ride the course, so I had been polling riders at the start line. Everyone described the trails as fast, not too technical but challenging. Boy was that assessment correct! The first section of trail included twisty single-track with criss-crossing roots and a generous supply of mid-size boulders. One false move on these trails and you were going to be walking thanks to a tacoed rim or a broken chain. At the end of that section of single-track came a 1-2 minute climb up out of the woods into an open field. I have determined that my specialty, if I have any, is climbing and thus try to make up time on any uphill I can. I made two passes on that first climb to sit in 5th position behind a Dirt Coalition Team member whose pace suited mine nearly perfectly. We hammered along at a steady tempo for several miles of single-track, passing Sport class racers and steadily gaining ground on the 2nd and 3rd position riders for our division.

We were nearing the halfway mark of the race and I could tell by the pace and slight mistakes that the Dirt Coalition rider was making that he was nearing his breaking point. I stayed glued to his wheel, pushing the pace for another mile or so when finally he cracked. We came to a short uphill and he over compensated in a turn, losing his momentum for the hill. I kicked up a gear, attacked up the climb and pedaled away from my tempo partner, whom I didnt see again until the race finish. I now was alone, riding my own pace. The number two and three positions were several minutes ahead of me, and the nearest challenger for fourth was several minutes behind. So I just rode.

I rode the rest of the race as if I was out for a trail ride. I let the Expert racers pass when they came through and kept my tempo high, but not devastatingly so. I was hurting and could definitely tell I wasn't on form as much as the passed few weeks, but I also knew that as long as I avoided mishap I could finish on the podium at my current rhythm. So for the last 3-4 miles I took the descents carefully, hammered the flats, and paced the hills. I was fine with a fourth place finish by this point. Then within the last mile of trail, I spied the third place contender. He was several bike lengths in front of me, but was really feeling it by that point. His pedal cadence was slow and he was bobbing on the seat. There was a final 3-4 minute climb at the end of the course and we were almost to the bottom of it. I mustered what strength I had left and moved up to pace off of him.

We entered the climb at a good clip, since he now knew I was right on his wheel. The climb was a relatively long one for this course, so I was just biding my time sitting on his wheel until partway up I heard him drop a gear. I said "On your left", kicked up another gear and spun past him. I kept the hammer down the rest of the way to the top of the hill and he didnt contest the pass. I floated through the last single-track section and then soft-pedaled across the finish, a respectable third place and several minutes ahead of fourth.

The biggest lesson I can walk away from this race with is how much your fitness is affected by proper nutrition and non-sport related stress. I managed to finish on the podium again this week, however it was a tougher fight, with fewer and shorter power surges than weeks prior. Had I focused on my nutrition and race mentality earlier in the week instead of trying to make up for it on Friday and Saturday night, then perhaps I could have been rolling across the line in first position instead of third. However, while I am a bit disappointed to not have walked away with the overall win, I had alot of fun and fully satisfied with my performance simply based on how I was feeling.

My next race is a 25 mile endurance MTB event in Wayne National forest on June 28th. I plan on taking a few days off and then focusing on long distance race efforts for the month between now and then. I need to work on mountain bike mileage in order to even survive this event, let alone be a contender in my class. That means more short track spankings, long days on the roadie, and the best nutrition/sleep that I can manage. Hopefully I will be able to keep you updated on progress and the pre-race fitness between now and then. Until next time, Ride Hard and Stay Safe!

WVMBA Point Series Race - Mountwood Park

2009-05-05T08:25:00.001-04:00

Well the second weekend of racing has drawn to a close, and what a great experience!

The Simonton Windows Challenge at Mountwood mountain bike race was Sunday, May 3rd at Mountwood Park in Volcano, WV. The day dawned cool and rainy, with temperatures hovering in the mid 50's and showers forecasted throughout the day. Not that this was a big change from the entire week prior. The Mid Ohio Valley had received around 3 inches of rain in the past five days, nearly three times the normal amount for this time of year. The rain had turned not only the trails, but the parking lots and grassy areas of Mountwood park into a muddy mess. All of the mud and rain wasnt able to deter some racers though, and The Mountwood Challenge was over 150 riders strong!

I myself had contemplated not attending this race. I was concerned with my recovery from the New Martinsville Road race as I was still a little fatigued mid-week, however by Thursday I was feeling pretty good and decided to test my legs out on some of the local trails. I had planned on pre-riding the Mountwood course, but with the rain and some scheduling conflicts I decided that a few laps of the Marietta High School trails were in order. Unfortunately, Thursday turned out to be an off day...not physically, but mentally. I was timing my laps and was unhappy with my splits, plus my brakes were acting up, and to top it all off...it was raining again. I did 2.5 laps and was fed up, so I spun home angrily not sure if I would be attending Mountwood or not. Friday morning was spent on the trainer, spinning easily to loosen my legs up and try to reorganize my thoughts. That evening I decided to change out my brakes and take a ride Saturday morning to see how I felt (I was reserving judgement until then).

Saturday turned out to be a fairly nice day and once I had my brakes dialed in, I took a short tempo ride with some threshold efforts thrown in to gauge my recovery. In a complete 180 from Thursday's ride, I felt amazing. My climbs were effortless, I could attack repeatedly and recovered quickly after each effort, and my bike was tuned perfectly. With this huge mental boost, I determined that rain or shine I would be on the start line at Mountwood the next day.

As was the case the week before, my "pit crew" and I arrived to the race venue an hour before the race was to start. I stretched, registered, donned tights and arm warmers, and then spent 20 minutes warming up on the roads surrounding the park. Whereas in a road race (and some MTB events) all classes start together in a mass, Mountwood was set up as a staggered start. Following the race meeting I found the staging area for my class and picked a spot mid pack. My confidence was higher this week compared to the start of the NM road race, but I still wasnt exactly sure what to expect of some of my competitors. I figured it was better to start conservative and move up as I was able. Our class watched as the classes in front of us started at 1-2 minute intervals. While road racing starts with a controlled roll, mountain bike racing is all about the "hole shot" and starts are anything but "controlled". As the whistle blew, each class tore out of the start area like madmen, trying to edge one another out of the coveted first position on the trail. It was crazy, semi-organized chaos as the racers hit the bottleneck turn out of the parking lot and spun out of sight along the approach road to the first climbs of the day.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, it was our turn. The front guys toed the line as the race official gave last minute instructions on turn-offs and abandonment rules. He blew the whistle and we were off! Everyone was out of their saddle for the first 100 yards winding out to the first bottleneck. I was positioned well on the inside and moved forward a bit ahead of the largest bulge of the mass of cyclists about to try to hit the same line all at once. The front part of our group made it through the turn a bit ahead of the pack as they didnt have to slow for the turn. We were on the approach road and everyone was chasing for a wheel and changing up to the big ring. As we hit the first few undulations along the road, I noticed a few riders in front of me faulter. That was all I needed and flipped to a bigger gear, was out of the seat and attacking. I was feeling good and didnt have any chasers, so when I crested the small roller I kept the hammer down. Up ahead the route transitioned from pavement to trail and I could already see the first pack hitting the climb. I rolled into the corner with a group of 5-6 and we began the steady ascent out of the valley. The first climb was along a fireroad with plenty of passing opportunities, so I settled into a tempo gear and started grinding away. It wasnt long before some of my group began to fade, so I worked around a few of the riders and checked the front two guys. I could tell by their faces they were already in the red. I felt strong and decided right then that all of those hill repeats on the road had paid off. I kicked it to a higher gear and cranked away from my group, quickly overtaking a few stragglers from the pack that had hit the climb first. I continued in this fashion up the rest of the climb, overtaking approximately half a dozen more riders before topping out on the ridge.

At this point the trail narrowed and was turned into a muddy soup after having 100+ other riders on it. I was feeling very good. I was sitting in 4th or 5th position now, but was separated from the contenders in my class by 3 or 4 struggling racers from the class above ours. I knew there was at least one more area where passing would be possible, so I matched tempo with the rider in front of me and focused on staying upright for the next 45 minutes. No passing opportunities came as we weaved through the large hardwood trees of Appalachia and several riders were strewn along the trail, having succumbed to broken chains or flattened tires. And while the first climbs of the day were long and relentless, at least they were semi graveled, as now when the trail turned upwards (which it seemed to do with ever increasing frequency) the slopes were slick and muddy, often covered in crisscrossing tree roots. We were running up as many hills as we rode, but the pace stayed the same - as hard as we could handle.

We came out onto another open section which I knew from the race map was my last real chance to pass, so I pulled aside from the rider I was pacing with and hammered. I managed to pull into second place at this point and was feeling confident...probably too much so. I was within 7-8 bike lengths of the rider in first and was catching glimpses of him through the trees. We came to a technical rolling flat and I began my attack. I was up in the mid ring with a good spin and could tell I was gaining ground on him. At the end of the flat the trail pitched left down a hairy descent to a bridge crossing. I was flying and redlined, but confident. I was within striking distance and knew I could catch him. My tires touched the ground a total of maybe three times down the descent and then I was on the approach to the bridge. I hopped up on the bridge and...then nothing. It didnt even feel like my tires made contact with the bridge boards as my bike shot out from under me to the left. At full speed, I slammed chest first into the floor boards and skittered all the way across the bridge to the other side. Dazed I was picking my bike up as an official ran over, but I waved him off and was already back on the saddle trying to switch up a gear. I hadnt lost any place standings with that mistake, but I did lose the race to the guy off the front. I was so cranked I didnt even feel the impact of the crash, I was just trying to make up my lost time. Unfortunately, it was no use and as I came down the final descent out of the woods I glimpsed his jersey take the turn onto the final concourse to the line. I kept glancing behind me for the third place challenger, but I was apparently several minutes ahead of him. I crossed the line 20 seconds off of first place, but was elated to have made the podium.

Just like my road race the week prior, this race was painful, however I have begun to relish rather than shy from the pain. As they say, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. And since I am not dead yet, I would say this race season is going to be quite interesting! I am taking a break this weekend for Mother's Day but will resume racing on May 17th at an Ohio Mountain Biking Conference XC race at the Wilds in Cambridge, OH. I will keep you posted!

Racing has begun!

2009-04-28T21:48:00.002-04:00

Well, as I feared it seems that life got in the way of keeping this blog updated and I am only now able to get back to it. I apologize for the lapse in writing and will do my best to keep up with it in the future.

Now, enough with the frivolities and onto the racing! This past Sunday was the New Martinsville Road Race starting in New Martinsville, WV and ending in Hannibal, OH. As this race was less than 20 miles from where I grew up and under an hour from where I currently reside, it seemed the perfect venue to test out my racing legs. This would be my first road race ever, having only competed in short multi-sport or mountain bike events prior (and those were when I was in high school).

Naively, I felt pretty prepared for the race. I had started a fairly rigorous training program January of this year and felt to already have the form similar to my fitness at the end of last summer. I kept up on race strategy by reading VeloNews and skimming through CyclingNews.com daily, and I had read and reread Chris Carmichael's The Ultimate Ride numerous times. I was set!

A week before the race I got a copy of the course map and sat down one evening, feverishly working up my race strategy. There were four major climbs over the 45 mile course, one 10 miles in and then three successive climbs starting at mile 35. I pondered and marked the map at the intervals at which I would go easy and then determined that the final climbs would make or break the race. That is where I planned to launch my attack! I figured I have done lots of climbing intervals and have a ton of miles in the saddle already this season, how hard could it be to pull away from these guys after only 35 miles, right? ....Wrong....I only got my first inkling of what the race would be like the weekend before when Elizabeth and I drove the course. I had brought my bike so I could ride the four hills and see what they were like. The first climb shoots seemingly straight up from Rt. 7 into the hills of Monroe County at grades of 21% or more for over a mile of hard climbing. Following that fun foray, you are pummeled with rollers for 20 some odd miles at which point you begin the stair step climbing of the final three hills. Lovingly called A, B, and C hills, the climbing lasts for around 3-4 miles with grades ranging from 7-20%. Hill B is the toughest and comes right in the middle of the overall climbfest. After slogging up all four hills in my granny ring and puffing for air, I began to second guess my original race strategy.

But like a good racer, I stuck with my plan, tapered well the week before the race, and got plenty of sleep the night prior to be in top form on Sunday. We (Barney, Elizabeth, Paul, and I) arrived to the start line a good hour early and I was registered and warmed up with plenty of time to spare. As I was standing at the start line I struck up a conversation with a guy from Pittsburgh who had driven down because he couldnt find enough races in his area to ride in. We hit it off and, as a couple of what only seemed a handful of independent racers, chose to ride together at least for awhile.

At 10am our police escort showed up and the organizers waved us on to begin our controlled start through downtown New Martinsville. The attitude of the pack was pretty jovial at this point. There was laughing and joking as we made our way up to the bridge, the end of which marked the end of our controlled roll. We cruised across the bridge at 19-20mph but by the time the escort vehicle pulled away, the entire peloton was clipping along at 23-25mph. One guy shot out right at the start, gaining a 20 second advantage but no one followed and we all knew it was going to be a long hard day so no one was worried about catching him. His attack didn't last long as he was reeled back in 3-4 miles down the road.

I felt good! I was sitting in 3rd or 4th position, taking pulls on the front with the Pittsburgh guy, getting my legs warmed up. At this point the entire pack was still together and we rolled as one large, fast animal. There was a bit of jostling midpack, but for the most part no one wanted to make any moves on the flat approach to climb number one. After a few miles, the Pittsburgh guy and I got restless so we started cranking the tempo up. Long pulls on the front got the pack moving around 27mph and there was some splintering at the back. A large guy with a TT bike moved up with us and we started pushing the pace even more. At some point one of the Cat1/2/3 guys yelled "Quit pulling so hard!" indicating that we would wear ourselves out before we got to the end of the race, but I felt good and what was the fun in sitting in anyway? I figured I wasnt really an overall contender, so I needed to whittle down my class before we got into the main part of the course. The front of the peloton was in a two by two formation at this point and we had already detached a handful of riders off the back.

At mile 10, the course took a hard left hand turn and shot upwards on Sykes Ridge road. I was sitting in 8th position when we took the turn onto the approach to the climb. I told the Pittsburgh guy we had a tough one coming up and he barely acknowledged either due to effort or not hearing what I said (the whir of tires is pretty loud). Now on a small one lane road, the peloton began to spread out in order to position for the climb. We hit the bottom of the climb and immediately the field was shattered. I stuck to what felt like a midrange tempo and hung on to the remnants of the fast group on the way up the climb. The Pittsburgh guy quickly dropped off after about a half a mile of climbing and I didnt see him the rest of the day. Near the top, my "fan club" was waiting for me with cameras flashing. I waved at them and then continued the climb to finish with a group of 5-6 guys in a chase group about 30 seconds down from the "climber" group. We played cat and mouse with the first group for the next 15 miles or so, trying to reel them in but were kept just out of reach.

Finally, on a wide open section of Rt. 78 we caught up to one of their stragglers. He wanted to make a concerted effort to get to them, so he started pacing. I hooked onto his wheel and the entire group strung out in a long paceline, each guy taking 10-15 second pulls. On my second pull we came to a slight downhill, so I dropped the hammer and they all came along for the ride. Zipping along at 36mph, I shifted left to let the next guy take a pull, but he refused. We were within 5 seconds of the front group and I didnt want to lose them so I moved back over, took a double pull and then shifted left when I couldnt handle anymore. I realized at that moment I had made a big mistake. As the paceline zoomed past, I struggled to latch onto the back. Thanks to my pull, they caught the main group, however I was spit out the back angry and dejected.

This was the beginning of my nightmare. I was in what bike racers's call "no man's land". I wasn't in a solo breakaway off the front, I was in between groups. No one to share the work with and no one to pace off of on the hills. Basically just a really good place to wear yourself out and lose time. The slower climbing groups were nowhere in sight, but I was still within 15 seconds of the first group. With each roller, that gap seemed to grow insurmountable. My strength was waning and I could tell. However, at one point I rounded a corner and saw a lone rider who had gotten detached from the front group. I was determined to use him as a stepping stone to get to the main group. On a small rise, I saw him standing on the pedals, head down in pain. I knew he was tired and so was I, but now was the time. I surged forward with what explosiveness I had left, took a small draft from him and then attacked. I pulled away and redlined it for another 20 seconds. When I looked back he was not in sight, having relinquished any ideas of trying to chase my wheel. I was still at least 15-20 seconds down on the front pack, but just couldnt seem to bridge to them. At the base of every roller, I would get a glimpse of them at the top of the hill, but they were slowly pulling away. I was disappointed that after such a valiant effort, I wasnt going to be able to bridge the gap. The team car for one of the West Virginia teams pulled up to me and passed. There was a rider whose chain had snapped on the first climb sitting in the back. He waved and urged me on, "You got em, come on!" he yelled. They had watched my attack on the lone rider and wanted me to get in the mix off the front. I held my hands up and shrugged as if to say "I dont have it today", but he waved me in behind their car and said something to the driver. I pulled into their draft and they sped up to slingshot me forward down one of the rollers. I waved as I passed and gave it all I had, but still was plateaued at 20 seconds down from the front pack.

The course now began snaking through a valley and I was utterly alone. The front pack was out of sight and the team cars had moved up with them, however I was still well ahead of any of the splinter groups chasing from behind. I rolled at a steady 20mph clip, but was in severe back pain at this point. There had already been alot of climbing and I was afraid that my lower back was spent. I pushed through the pain and kept glancing behind me, but the telltale chase group that I kept worrying about never appeared. At mile 35 I arrived at the base of the last three climbs...alone....so there was no one I needed to attack or pace off of. I rode them at a fast but sustainable pace, pampering my back with low gears whenever I could. At the top, the rollers began again with a vengeance. I rounded a bend and looked across the small valley to see the front group coming out of the climbs as well. I could see a few riders struggling to stay attached at the back, part of the carnage of the final hills and a long day in the saddle. I began pacing with renewed vigor, but with no real hope of actually catching anyone else. I figured I was stuck where I was in the standings and was just focused on finishing the race strong.

A few miles later, right before the very last roller I came across the TT bike guy and a tall rider from the WVU cycling team. Both were in lots of pain, standing on their pedals and swaying their bikes side to side on even the slightest hills. I pulled in to draft off of them for a minute. At the top of the rise in front of us the checkpoint flagger yelled, "This is the last climb then you have 6 miles of downhill to the finish." I felt pretty awful, but that was enough motivation for me and I attacked and surged around both TT and WVU. I crested the hill and looked back, but neither were interested in following. I was once again, riding on my own, except now I had a goal: the finish line! I cruised the rest of the course and bombed the last few miles coming into the final corner at 46mph. I rolled into downtown Hannibal and crossed the finish 15th overall, but 2nd in my class. Elizabeth, Paul, and Barney were accompanied by my parents at the finish and I rolled over to talk and get congratulatory hugs, etc.

I was in alot of lower back pain and could barely stand, but I felt amazing! My first race had me hooked and my winnings covered the entry fee and a bit extra to boot! I know I didnt ride the race like I had planned and I definitely made mistakes that probably cost me a few extra place standings, however it was the most fun and most pain I have ever simultaneously experienced on a bike before. You can bet I will be back for more!

Ode to the Single Speed

2009-01-14T09:04:00.004-05:00

Single-speed. The mention of this phrase may conjur up numerous images in your mind. Perhaps its of the first bike you had, that BMX style vehicle of fury on which you hopped from sidewalks and curbs with inexplicable mediocraty, destined to become the next Evil Knevel. Maybe its simplicity. The simplicity of having but one gear, pedals, and a set of brakes connecting you to the ground giving you the freedom to focus on cycling in its purest form. Or maybe its "Holy crap, thats nuts" as was my buddie's reaction when, as I am feverishly pumping up the quickly flattening tire on my expensive new mountain bike, a single speed cyclist comes pumping up the snow covered trail towards us. Sans fork, movable gears, and disc brakes the rider slows a bit as he passes and asks "You guys alright". I of course, quickly retort "Oh yeah!" knowing full well neither me or Brad had a tube that fit my rim and a patch kit was less than useless in this extreme cold. But how could I accept help from this madman? His bike appeared to be made of that inferior, rust prone material...steel and was outfitted with *gasp* centerpull brakes! He surely wouldnt have anything that would help us "real" mountain bikers. "Ok" he said and sent his legs whirring as he spun effortlessly past us on up the hill.

It wasnt like I wanted the day to go any worse. It had started out on a pretty normal note, with Brad, Shawn, and I being the only ones that made it for the sub-30 degree ride. We stood around in front of my house fiddling with gearing, dialing in brake pads, and talking about how cool the latest cycling technology was. My cyclocomputer said 25.9 degrees as we were leaving the driveway and headed out to the 7-8 miles of trails that were a mere half-mile from my doorstep. However, within 200 feet of my house on the first climb, Shawn's derailluer popped and bound up. His derailluer hanger was instantly broken like a potato chip (I said it was cold, right?) and his ride was over. As Shawn headed back to the house to begin calling local shops for repair parts, Brad and I head to our first trail in Frontier Plaza. Our legs are feeling good and we made it through Frontier loop without incident. On our entry into the Washington State trails, its a different story. First I am slapped in the face at 15mph by a stick overhanging the trail. A bit further down the trail, Brad's chain pops and makes a horrendous grinding noise, which both of us are certain signals the end of his ride and a long walk back to the house. All is well, however and we are back underway. Things go smoothly until we reach the Pine Thicket, quite possibly the most fun part of the trail and the descent of which is our reward for the past twenty some odd minutes of climbing. It is here, under the cover of darkness (save our headlights) that I begin to feel that telltale "whishy-washy-ness" of a leaking back tire. I wait until I am almost riding on the rim and we stop and begin pumping the tire back up. Thus begins the mind-numbing process of riding 100 feet, stop and pump the tire up, repeat. This is also when we met "The SingleSpeeder" and we had the conversation that opened this post.

As my arm burns from the nearly one million pumps it takes to fill a mountain bike tube with a mini pump, I marvel at why anyone would do that to themselves. Why limit yourself to one gear for all situations? Why pound yourself into oblivion with a solid fork instead of one of the nice cushy suspension forks on our bikes? Why stick to a braking system from decades past instead of moving up to disc brakes like the rest of the world? I pondered these questions and more as we made our slow painful descent back to civilization. Upon reaching the paved road, I knew my tube was a goner. We were stopping to pump after just a few pedal strokes and I was within a few miles of my house so I told Brad to head on home. I was going to hoof it from here. He obliged, after some prodding, and I watched his taillight dissappear over the hill kicking myself for not having an extra tube. There was only the sound of my pedal clips scraping against the pavement and the occasional passing car as snow began to fall and I trudged home. By the time I reached my block, our 30-40 minute ride had turned into a 2 hour marathon of repairs, hiking, and singing "Eye of the Tiger" over and over in my head. My toes were near frozen and my gloves had frozen to the handlebars. Just as I was cresting the hill that leads back to my house, a cyclist passed me. Wearing what appeared to be army issue cold weather pants with the legs duct-taped closed, the guy passed with one of the smoothest pedal turnovers I had seen. It was "The SingleSpeeder". He had ridden enough trails for the night and was on his return trip home. He waved as he pedaled by and out of sight, large tanklike tires whirring in the distance. It was then, at that very moment that I envied him. Whether he rode single speed because he is a purist or because he realizes that the majority of the newest technology available on mountain bikes does crappy in cold weather (think fork seals, hydraulic brakes, composite metal parts, etc.), I didnt know. But it didnt matter to me. He was riding and I was not. My light cross-country tires with their itsy bitsy thin walled tubes had failed on a night that his heavy mud tires had not.

So SingleSpeeder, I salute you. I will by no means give up my gem of a bike (I love it), but you have inspired me to build my own single-speed for those blustery winter rides or the days I just need to remember what biking is all about: forgetting about everything except the pulse of your legs and the whir of the tires.

2008-12-09T09:41:00.002-05:00

Ok, so I know I haven’t posted in a couple weeks. Holidays are getting into full swing. I apologize and here is an account of a late November kayak/bike trip I took. As always, map is to the right and pictures are below.

I marveled at the strength of 3/8 inch thick ice as I backpaddled, took four full paddle forward strokes and slammed into the sheet of ice covering the surface of Little Muskingum near the junction of Hills Bridge Rd and County Road 9. I was on a multi-sport day trip that began 2.5 miles upstream from my current location at Lang Farm Campground in Wayne National Forest. On this frigid Saturday afternoon, I had put in at the campground with the intentions of kayaking downstream several miles to a location at which I had stashed my mountain bike. I would then ride my bike back to the campground, pick up the car, and retrieve my kayak. The kayaking was proving more difficult than I would have imagined however. I didn’t plan on there being ice on ¾ of the creek already this year. I suppose that was to be expected however as the temperatures were hovering in the mid to upper 20’s that day.

This wasn’t my first voyage down this particular stretch of stream. I had performed this trip many times before, exploring side streams and backroads that I normally would not have had the chance to examine. Little Muskingum has a plethora of off shoots that, in the wetter months, are easily navigable via kayak. I have a 9.5 foot boat, so navigating the tight turns and fallen logs is a relatively easy task and can lead to some very interesting discoveries. I have found submerged cars, small islands, stumbled upon deer herds getting a drink, and startled beavers building dams in my adventures in the backwater of Little Muskingum. I have also seen numbers of Wood Ducks, Mallards, and Otters swimming and eating along the banks of the river. The amount of wildlife that can be photographed is amazing, as you can slip right up to the animals without making a noise.

I thought about all of my warm weather excursions and laughed as I stared at the half mile expanse of solid ice that lay before me. I was under the old wooden tunnel that crosses the water right after the junction of State Route 26 and County Road 9. I had already broken through several patches of ice to get this far and was unfortunately to the point of no return. Going back was going to be just as difficult as progressing forward, or at least that is what I was telling myself. So I backed up once again, took my full paddle strokes, slammed into the ice and came to another grinding, disappointing halt. Finally, facing the fact that this method wasn’t working, I looked around for an escape route. Spying a log extending from the shore partway into the water on the right hand side of the creek, I began a new plan of attack: break my way to the log and portage around the ice to the riffles I could see just off in the distance. Using my paddle, momentum, and some dumb luck, I broke through the ice all the way over to the log. I then was able to scramble out of the boat, up the log, and onto the bank. I hoisted my boat onto my shoulders and began hiking along the creekbank. Now to find a place to put in…

You would think that Little Muskingum would offer a variety of areas in which to put a boat in, however I have found there are exceedingly few suitable areas for a lone boater to enter the water. I have three or four main “put in” spots that I use on a fairly regular basis. They are spread out enough that I can vary my trip lengths from a short and interesting 3 mile venture to a seemingly long 8 mile trip. I have also had the misfortune of overestimating my speed and returning to the Levy in Marietta via the Ohio River in complete darkness after a creek jaunt gone awry. One problem that kayakers will find with Little Muskingum is the increasingly steep and muddy stream banks. Thanks to the locks and dams systems implemented on the Ohio, our backcountry creeks ebb and flow according to the water level at “the end of the line” and can be several feet deep one day and inches the next. This makes safely putting a kayak in the water from the bank difficult. I have tried a variety of methods from sitting in the kayak and sliding down the bank into the water (exciting, but not recommended for inexperienced boaters) to crawling out on logs and gingerly climbing into the boat, praying the log doesn’t dislodge when I am halfway in. The best put in areas are at the Lang Farm Campground and the low water bridge past the Hills Bridge Road and County Road 9 junction. Connecting these two landing areas provides a nice afternoon paddle that normally takes less than an hour if you hustle and as much as two hours if you just float downstream.

Having portaged around the ice and put in at the riffles, I was in the water for approximately another mile before being faced with the same predicament again: ice everywhere. This time I didn’t waste energy on trying to break through. Instead I made my way to shore, gathered my gear, and took a hike with a boat on my back. I walked through farm country the rest of the way to where my bike was stashed, locked up the boat, and rode back to the campground to get the car. While my voyage had not turned out perfectly as planned, it was still a great day and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

The Ohio Valley has a lot of great outdoor opportunities to offer which are not widely publicized. I have kayaked in the morning, mountain biked in the afternoon, and rock climbed in the twilight all within half an hour of town. If you live in the Ohio Valley or are passing through, I encourage you to take advantage of the natural wonders that abound and define this area. Enjoy!

Cycling in Ohio's Amish Country

2008-11-19T12:03:00.004-05:00

I decided that since Monday morning was the coldest and wettest ride I have taken this year, I would write about one of the warmest rides I have taken.

The Amish Country of Ohio (Holmes and Tuscarawas Counties) is a road cyclist’s dream, with smoothly paved secondary roads, winding through rolling farm country, and small wine and cheese shops peppered along nearly any route of your choosing. Cycling is in my opinion the best way to spend your visit to the Amish Country, as you can see all of the sites of the Amish way of life up close and personal. Explore the back roads of this area and you will be surprised at the short distance you have to travel out of a town’s center in order to be lost in the breathtaking views of Amish farms, churches, and lush crop fields. Cycling is a major mode of transportation for the Amish and you will be greeted with smiles, friendly waves, and even offers of refreshments along the way. While the spider’s web of roads may look intimidating on a map, it is in fact an extremely convenient in terms of navigation as there are almost always two or three different routes (of varying lengths and topography) to get to a particular attraction or town.

In 2006, Elizabeth and I had the good fortune to travel up to Holmes County for an afternoon tour of some of the “main” towns of this area. The description of the route and tour map are provided in the links section.

We began our Amish tour by driving to Sugarcreek, Ohio and parking at the livestock auction house. We unloaded our bikes and filled our packs with water, money, and tools. We rolled out of town around 11am and headed to Baltic. The route was an initial 6 mile spin with some rolling hills and uninterrupted pavement. Upon arriving in Baltic, we visited the historic Baltic Mills bulk food shop and looked around at some of the crafts for sale. We then headed out to Charm, where we had initially planned on stopping for dinner, but we made good time (even though we were maintaining a leisurely pace) and decided just to stop at Guggisberg Cheese for a snack before pressing on. Our next stop was Berlin, where we visited the newly renovated Java Jo’s Coffee house. They serve a mean grilled chicken pita sandwich and I highly recommend their coffee!

We strolled around Berlin for awhile looking at the various shops and stretching our legs before we made our final jaunt back to the car. By this point we were starting to feel the miles and saddle time, and enjoyed the opportunity to “bargain-hunt” for a bit. Our final leg of the trip was to be a 10 mile stretch along Route 39 back to Sugarcreek. Make no mistake, Route 39 is the main road into this area and has a speed limit of 55mph with a large amount of traffic. Stay alert when riding this road! Luckily, the medians are wide and we were able to safely glide back to Sugarcreek and the welcome site of our car and dry clothes. We used a nearby grocery store’s bathroom to clean up a bit, and then enjoyed a hearty Amish cooked meal.

The route we chose is a fairly typical, straightforward route that allowed plenty of shopping time in between short sections of riding. However, there are a myriad of choices for longer or shorter variations of this particular trip and even the option of biking from town to town, staying in a different cabin or hotel each time. The beauty of this area’s farm country is unsurpassed, and, thanks to the tribute to a bygone era by the locals, the roads are kept in exceptionally good shape. I recommend taking a trip to this area to enjoy the sites and sounds of a bygone era, as well as to ride some of the smoothest and most mellow country roads you are likely to find in Ohio!

Life's Greatest Freedom

2008-11-12T23:34:00.005-05:00

As many of you may know by now, I am a bike commuter. Every morning my routine involves shouldering my backpack of clothes, lunch, and shower gear and mounting one of two cycles to begin my morning commute. Every morning I see the same people, I stop at the same stoplights, and I pass the same "morning walkers". I rarely differ from my route, rolling down fourth street to Pike and gliding along Pike Street to the Wal-Mart entrance, at which point I begin to "mix it up" with morning traffic. Bleary-eyed semi-truck drivers and disgruntled, late plant workers aside, I have a very pleasant cruise each morning before setting foot in my office and beginning the day.
I often get questions like "Why do you do that to yourself?" or "Aren't you afraid someone will hit you?". Others say, "Must be saving a ton of gas!" or "I could never do that." My answers can all be distilled down to this one fact: I love riding. I love the feel of moving under my own power, the freedom to go where I like and as far as I like. I like knowing and being confident in my abilities to intermingle with traffic unscathed or beat my coworkers to the office/home, having left at the same time as them. I love the feel of a smooth road under my road bike tires, and a fast, windy trail on my mountain bike.

I am saving a ton of gas and I am staying in riding shape in the process, but that isn't my motivation. I could drive to work like everyone else, but what would be the point. In a day and age when we hear more about global warming and shrinking oil reserves, I could say I want to set an example for what we should all be willing to do in order to lessen our consumption of valuable (and oft overpriced) resources. I could say that I am boycotting gas or point out that I only live four miles from my office, which is closer than most New Yorkers live to their offices yet New York is known as "the walking city". And while all that might be true, it isn't the deciding factor for why I am a bike commuter.

I ride because I can, I ride because I love it, and I ride to inspire others. A guy I work with, that has multiple health problems, actually took up cycling because he saw me every day on the way to work. He is twelve pounds lighter and much healthier today because he is a cyclist.

I know the economy is shaky, we are all unsure what lies ahead for our President-elect, and it seems everything in life is "suspect" at this point, but I know one other thing too: I start and end my day doing something I love that costs me nothing and noone can take away from me. What greater freedom is there?

Marietta Trails

2008-11-10T10:27:00.004-05:00

For anyone who hasn't had the pleasure of checking out the local trails in Marietta, OH let me tell you that you are truly missing an opportunity to ride high quality singletrack within city limits.

The River Valley Mountain Biking Association and local hiking enthusiasts have developed approximately 10-11 miles of trails within Marietta that rival trails I normally traveled two and three hours to ride. The trail system winds through the wooded lots of Marietta that are publicly and privately owned, but afford full riding rights to responsible cyclists and hikers. The trails can be described as fast and rolling. Rarely is a climb over half a mile long, and the descents are smooth with sweeping turns and few switchbacks.

Normally rides begin behind the Beihl-Hawn Insurance Agency at the Frontier shopping center. The trail rolls its way through a short section of woods before crossing the road and grinding its way to the top of Glendale hill, where riders are rewarded with a view of the Ohio River's bends and Marietta's historic downtown area. Riders can now descend one of two ways, the trail they just climbed which will take them on the remainder of "Frontier loop" (complete with a new one mile addition) and back to their starting point OR down "Water Tower" which is a curvy, scorching descent to Glendale road. From Glendale road, trail options abound as this is an access point for "Mayor's Hill", "High School Loop", or "Washington State Trail". Look for future posts highlighting these trails and maps soon to follow.

Mountain biking in Marietta is a unique experience. Rarely have I ridden trails of such quality in construction and design, even hours away in a more publicized "biking venue". On any given night you may meet 0-4 other riders on the trail, but everyone is courteous and conscientious. If you have a break down, you are never more than a few hundred feet from a road and you certainly are not out of cell phone service. The RVMBA keeps a close eye on the trails and riders will notice trails are maintained regularly. For more information on trail maintenance days and on RVMBA membership, visit http://www.rvmba.com/ .

There is no doubt, there are longer, steeper, faster, more "epic" trails available in the Ohio Valley, however as a quick out and about or weekend spin, the trails of Marietta can't be beat. I encourage you to try them or hook up with our weekly ride on Thursday nights. You won't be dissapointed!

The Legend Returns!

2008-11-08T15:54:00.006-05:00

Well presumably everyone has heard by this point that Lance Armstrong, the 7-time Tour de France winner and veritable legend of cycling, has ended his three year retirement and is already back to his "old self". Having won the Tour de Gruene early last month in Texas quite handily, Armstrong is poised to make a successful comeback for the 2009 cycling season. He plans on racing the Giro d'Italia, Tour of Flanders, all the classics of cycling (minus Paris-Roubaix), Tour of California, Criterium International, and Circuit de la Sarthe. On top of that already challenging schedule, Lance has even made statements he might make a 2009 Tour de France bid.

You will find no greater Lance supporter than myself. I believe he has been more transparent than any other sports figure in history and his blood has been analyzed so many times in his cycling career that sports scientists will be studying his DNA for years. However, the controversy over Lance's return is alive and well. He has already been publicly ridiculed for returning to the sport of cycling, even though in his three years of retirement he has competed in mountain bike races and marathons unabashed. Lance claims he is returning to the national arena to bring more publicity to his foundation's cancer research and that he isn't thrilled with the thought of having to work with French TV and the Tour's race organizers again.

Lance has said that he is confident in his return but the new competition is exceedingly good. In last year's Tour de France alone, individual times were comparable if not better than some of Lance's best performances. This makes me question what is in store for the "second cycling career" of the great Lance Armstrong? Will he be the dominant force we are all used to seeing when he mounts his Trek road bike or is the field now leveled thanks to up and coming talent and an aging legend? Only time will tell, but I do know one thing: Professional cycling is alive and well regardless of the doping controversy and disqualifications, and things are about to get that much more interesting now that a 37 year old legend is about to join the ranks of talented 20-somethings. Look out for Lance!

Introduction

2008-11-07T14:00:00.000-05:00

This blog has been established as a testament to the fact that every time we step outside our doors, nature - our God-breathed playground - awaits us!

I hope to use this internet hovel to showcase the wonderous possibilities that await outdoor enthusiasts of the Ohio Valley.

Future posts will hi-light Mountain Biking, hiking, camping, rock climbing, kayaking, and more, all in the Ohio Valley region. Some of the best outdoor recreational venues are literally just a few feet from your doorstep and you may not even know it!

Stay tuned....