Trainer Confessions

What's in store for 2012?

Now What?

Early last week when I surpassed 10,000 miles for the year, I added the final feather to my cap in what will go down as quite the memorable year.  Just a couple of days later, I opened up my wallet and let the Battenkill promoter pull out $84 as part of my first race registration for the 2012 season.  The act of closing down 2011 and then setting the first target for 2012 gave me reason during the ample free-time this week to ponder on what I wanted to get out of cycling in the year ahead.

Believe it or not, I could imagine a possible future where I would walk away from cycling, at least at the commitment level I now dedicate to the sport.  If I ever can't give a good answer to the question "what is it that I want to get out of cycling next year", or if the answers I come up with somehow pale in comparison to other things I'd want to accomplish in life, then I could see myself flipping a switch and redirecting myself to some other endeavor.  At various points in my life I was (amongst other things) an aspiring body builder, a die-hard New England sports fanatic, and career consumed work-aholic.  For various reasons the motivation driving my dedication to these all-consuming endeavors fizzled, and each time I finished that chapter of my life, and I never looked back. 

The good news though for the few of you who follow this blog is that it didn't take much thought to generate a healthy list of solid answers to the question I posed to myself, so there's no chance that the "off-switch" getting flipped anytime soon.

Racing

Spending time thinking about my racing goals actually gave rise to the thought that I could in fact some day flip the switch to the off position.  In 2011 my goal was clearly defined, and I built a path that eventually got me my prize, a Cat 3 upgrade.  I ended that quest at the final race of the season, so as of right now I have NO experience competing as a Cat 3 and lots of question marks as to what I can now do competing at this elevated level. 

Am I genetically gifted enough, mentally tough enough, and not yet too old such that I might expect to one day win a Cat 3 race?  If I work hard enough, could I conceivably aim to upgrade to Cat 2 at some point?  Or did I just barely reach up the ladder to the next rung, and I'll forever struggle to hold my grasp and not fall backwards to the comfort of Cat 4 competition where my unshaven legs and my sub-1000 W maximum power record are less likely to hold me back?

Without any concrete evidence under my belt in Cat 3 races yet, I don't even have guesses to any of those questions.  So for 2012, I won't be targeting a specific accomplishment as my end goal.  There won't be any pressure to produce lofty results like I had in 2011.  Instead, I'll be signing up for lots of hilly road races (like Battenkill) and two stage races (Tour of the Catskills and Green Mountain Stage Race) in search of answers. 

I'll also be picking the brain of my new coach.  If the first few months of training with him are a good indication of what's in store for 2012, I'll not only be learning quite a bit more, but I'm guessing that I'll also increase the odds that the answers to my questions above might come back quite favorable.

Giving Back

While I can conceive of a situation one day where I might decide to flip the switch on racing, I doubt I'd ever lack the motivation to continue to ride as the bicycle allows me to pursue other life goals that I'm sure will always remain important to me.  While GOP presidential hopeful Mitt Romney has accurately pointed out that we humans exhale CO^₂, and I bet you he'd also agree that cyclists generate even greater quantities of these greenhouse gases as we power up and over the hilly roads around my house, he and I would likely disagree on any policy or program that would attempt to get more people out of their cars and off of their couches and onto the ultimate in Green transportation -- the bike.  Furthermore, given the stranglehold Big Oil and Big Coal have on the decision-making in DC, I'm afraid that way too many of those in charge right now would scoff at any attempt like mine to use my bike to encourage action to be taken about Global Warming by participating in the Climate Ride for the 2nd straight year.

In addition to raising money and awareness as part of the Climate Ride, I'm hoping to find ways in 2012 that I can give back to the cycling community and to get more people out on a bike.  I'll be looking more closely at opportunities in my backyard (Glastonbury Bikeways), in the state of CT (Bike Walk CT), and nation-wide (Rails to Trails).  However, if anyone knows of a volunteer opportunity that opens up, or if someone is looking to start something brand new to cut down the car miles and increase the bike miles, PLEASE drop me an email!  I'm looking to help, and I have to imagine that there are some people out there looking for people to help, so I'm confident I'll be able to make a connection or two in 2012 to give back and make a difference.

Family Cycling

And of course there's yet another reason I hope to keep the wheels turning on my bike for years and decades to come -- spending time with Mrs D and the girls on the roads and trails in CT and exploring new parts of the country as well.  Though most of my exploration time will be done on my own, I'm excited to plan at least a day of family cycling while out in Tucson AZ on our February family vacation.  The Tucson family vacation will also double as 2012's winter training camp for me, where I'll tackle such climbs as Mount Lemmon.

Mount Lemmon's never-ending climb

I also intend to add a family bike ride or two to augment my summer-time training camp as we return to the White Mountains of NH for the 5th consecutive summer.  And if the girls don't tire of me and/or the bike, I also hope to plan another couple of weekend bicycle adventures like we completed in 2011 (one on Cape Cod, and another to the coast of CT).

The only challenge though that I see with this plan (aside from the monstrous climbs that the NH and Tucson offer) is that by mid-summer it's quite possible that the Desmarais girls may reach a point where they outgrow the caboose of "the train".  While they both still appreciate the rest afforded to them when they get to ride in the bike trailer in between stints spinning on the tag-along, I doubt I have much more than a year to go before one or both of the girls find that their feet start poking out the trailer's cramped quarters.  So...yet another goal for 2012 will be to find a great deal on a tandem so that when 2013 rolls around, I can list on next year's goals to get the girls comfortable riding something like this! 

Photo by Joe Angeles 

 

Reason to be Thankful

I Was Competing?

When I thumbed through the mail yesterday and spotted a letter from NEBRA, I had no reason to rip open the envelop then and there to excitedly read its contents.  My only vague knowledge of NEBRA was that it stood for New England Bicycle Racing Association, and that they had something to do with publishing the racing calendar towards the end of the year.  I assumed they were sending me some mass mailing about the upcoming racing year, and I therefore dumped the NEBRA letter along with the rest of the bills and junk mail on the counter for later review. 

So you can imagine my surprise when later that day I opened the envelop to reveal a single page of typed text, along with a $75 personal check made out to my name!  Here's the the first paragraph of text in the note:

On behalf of the New England Bicycle Racing Association, I congratulate you on a very successful year of racing.  You have finished in the top 5 of the rankings in your respective category or age group.  If you finished in the top three, you will have a medal enclosed, as well as a check.  Some of you have multiple checks and medals because you moved categories during the year but still had sufficient points to score in the top of both.  

 

As I finished reading the note, I sought out Mrs D to re-read the text aloud for her enjoyment.  And of course as I read it I had a big smile on my face -- who wouldn't be thrilled to receive free money in the mail, along with a note recognizing me as a somewhat accomplished Cat 4 bicycle racer?  

But the smile slowly faded as my thoughts gravitated back to that old saying "Nothing in life is free."  Somehow I must have contributed some money to fund this organization that is now handing me a check, so it was time to do some research.

Who is NEBRA?

My first Google search result pointed me to the actual rankings.  I am a regular visitor to the Road Results website, but this page was totally unknown to me.  Apparently someone created a point system associated with a particular set of New England bicycle races, and the uber-mainframe powering Road Results tabulated your results on this page each time you happened to enter one.  It was done automatically, and at least in my case, without any effort on my part, and even without my knowledge.

My next stop on the Internet brought me to NEBRA's website.  The site looked vaguely familiar to me, so perhaps I had visited in the past when scouring the web for the next season's racing schedule.  If I had been here before, I certainly ignored all of the details explaining NEBRA as I read that content yesterday for the first time.  

After digging around on the site for a bit I'm still at a loss to clearly explain to you how they get funded and how the fit in with USA Cycling.  But I'm guessing that they are getting some money from the race entry fees I pay, plus perhaps some cut of the license fee I send to USA Cycling each year.  It seems as though they are the local arm of USAC with the responsibility to administer the local bicycle racing scene here in New England.  This probably entails establishing the racing calendar, processing license requests, helping to keep the race official ranks filled, enforcing race rules, etc, etc. I found enough evidence on the site to once again validate that "Nothing in life is free", and my $75 dollar check can be tied back to the money we racers pay to USAC each year.  

But later in the day as I spent hours on the road (in a car unfortunately, not on a bike) I had time to reflect more on NEBRA and came to the conclusion that indeed I am getting something for free, and by the time I arrived with the Desmarais clan at our Thanksgiving destination, I felt pretty much like a free-loader.

Pay it forward

If a race promoter was truly out to make a quick buck, I'm guessing they'd be far more financially successful putting their money in the bank and just taking a measly 1% interest CD as opposed to putting on a race.  I'd also be willing to bet that race officials could stuff their wallets far faster spending their weekends moving Christmas packages and taking a check from a part-time job at FedEx as opposed to giving up their weekends to make sure my races are safe.  And while I know NOTHING about what sort of pay the dedicated folks at NEBRA might draw[EDIT: I was informed after writing this post that only one NEBRA staffer is paid, and the rest of the people behind NEBRA do it for their passion for the sport], my guess is that if they were out for a buck, they might be better off investing with Bernie Maddoff as opposed to looking for riches in the amateur racing scene.

Sure I'm paying a good chunk of money each year in race entry feels and a little more in my USAC license.  But I doubt that money does anything more than cover the costs of keeping the sport running.  Most certainly I am getting free of charge countless hours volunteered by the likes of the folks running NEBRA.  I'm not paying a dime for their passion to see the sport flourish.  And I don't do a darned thing to help off-set the sacrifices they make so that each week in the spring and summer I have one or more races to choose from.

The NEBRA note I got in the mail had one more paragraph that read as follows:

We hope the rankings and awards have contributed to your enjoyment of the sport, your sense of success, and your enthusiasm to participate.  As leaders in your cohort, I hope you will act as ambassadors for the sport and help new riders and those with less experience.

I re-read that text late last night, and in an effort to feel just a little bit less like a free-loader, I decided go online and donate my $75 winnings, as well as $75 of my own money to the Rails to Trails Conservancy to hopefully "help new riders and those with less experience".  I don't think NEBRA's rankings and awards will ever influence my desire to participate in the sport, but their unexpected note did remind me of what I should be thankful for.  

How to upgrade

Blueprint for success?

The 2011 training season officially came to a close 11 days ago, so I am now just over 2/3rds of the way through my 15 days away from the bike.  I view the time off as a necessary evil -- my body needed a break and I'll be super-charged once the 2012 training season starts on Nov 7th.  However, I'm feeling like a alcoholic who was sentenced to jail for some minor infraction.  Each day that goes by, my withdrawals grow stronger and more and more I become consumed with that first beer I'll down upon my release from jail.

I'm hoping that first "beer" is just as delicious as those that I downed by the dozen in 2011, and I've started to give some thought as to what I can do in order to make 2012 as successful, if not more so.  Those of you who are regular Trainer Confessions readers know that I spend a lot of time pondering and speculating about the myriad of reasons that a given race didn't turn out as I had expected, with the hope being that I'll find one or two things that I might try differently the next time around.  But every so often I need to flip the process around and take a look at what went well, identify why things went well, and then figure out how to repeat those things into the future.

By all accounts 2011 was a resounding success for me; lots of new experiences, memorable adventures, and I got my Cat 3 upgrade.  I don't think I need to delve into the things I need to repeat to continue chalking up new experiences and memorable adventures -- just keep on riding the bike, and minimize the time spent perched on my trainer and holed up in my office. 

The recipe for the Cat 3 upgrade isn't so simple though.  What follows is an attempt to outline some of the main ingredients used in my recipe, though I can't say for sure whether or not mixing them up again will result in another large batch of hand crafted deep flavored beer for 2012.

Just more of the same

It's possible that there was nothing specific that I did in 2011 that I can point to as the secret ingredient to my special sauce.  It might be just a matter of good things come to those who wait.  My journey towards my Cat 3 upgrade took place over the course of three full seasons racing as a Cat 4.  In my first season I generally found myself finishing mid-pack; last year I was consistently finishing in the top quarter or top third, and this year I advanced just enough to cobble up enough top ten finishes to qualify for an upgrade (only nabbing the last required top ten on my very last event of the season!). 

I ended each season with legs slightly more covered with veins than had been visible through the hair on my slightly stronger legs ( I still refuse to shave my legs, and only shave my face slightly more frequently ); feeling slightly smarter about what to do and what not to do while inches away from dozens of other riders racing through a tight corner on a crit, and just a little more stable perched upon my bike while being buffeted by cross-winds and pot holes heading down the hills of New England.  I guess if I just keep on plugging away at this thing called bicycle racing for long enough, it might just have been inevitable that I would become just strong enough, smart enough, and stable enough to sneak my way up to the front.

Equipment Upgrades

I'm sure if I sought out the latest and greatest aero and feather weight technological advances and opened up my wallet, my path to success would have been shortened.  However, I'm not really a gadget guy and a bike to me is just a tool, a means to an end, and not something to be worshipped.  So it should be a surprise that nearly all of my attention has been applied to improving the "engine" (me) that powers that tool.

That said, I came to the conclusion after nearly being beaten down by hills like the infamous Devil's Kitchen in 2010 that my success in such races as the Tour of the Catskills could be greatly enhanced if I invested in a compact crank to replace the standard crank that originally came with my bike.  That was my lone upgrade in equipment last year.  I have to say that had I not made the change, I might still be a Cat 4 right now.  Had I still been running the standard crank at the Tour of the Catskills, odds are that I would have fallen a few spots in both stage 2 and stage 3, which would have meant my top 10 count for the year would have fallen short of the 10 required for the Cat 3 upgrade.

Bike Handling Skills

This year I barrelled down steep mountain descents with more confidence, felt more relaxed when my bike rattled beneath me as I traversed over pot-holed dirt roads, and cut the gap between me and the wheel in front of me by a few extra inches.  In the process I conserved energy and had more Watts in the tank ready to match moves when the competition got fierce. 

I have to imagine that my big step forward in bike handling skills played a role in my Upgrade, and I am certain that those skills were enhanced because of the time I spent during the off-season on climbing and descending a collection of nearby hilly dirt roads.  And those skills were further enhanced with my hours on the trainer being displaced by hours balancing on the rollers (that is, those hours spent on the rollers after my first few weeks where I fell so often I seriously contemplated wearing a helmet!).

Coaching

2011 was my first year training with a coach, and it was also the year I upgraded.  Coincidence?  I think not!  While I was very proficient at finding ways to thrash my legs without a coach, I found myself in 2010 focusing on parts of my "engine" that I had given short change to in the past, and in the process I built a proper base that kept me strong right through the end of the successful season.

Unfortunately the scientist in me can't exactly quantify any specific end result that could be tied back to the training plan the coach had me followed.  The target set by my coach was more or less framed as "doing better", and I find it hard to assail such a vague target.  But I'm a numbers guy and I get jazzed by an audacious & concrete goal like "improve my 20 minute max power by 25 Watts".  It might not end up with better race results, but because I enjoy training nearly as much (or more?) as I enjoy racing, I've opted to try out a new coach for 2012.

Weight

In 2009, my weight hovered between 150 and 155 lbs.  Two years ago, I raced at weights ranging from 140 to 147.  And in my most successful year, 2011, I weighed as much as 137 but by the end of the season I was down to 129.  Think there's any correlation between my weight and my racing success, especially given my affinity for hilly road races?

The bad news though is that further race improvements stemming from further reductions in weight will be tougher to come by.  All of the weight loss thus far can be attributed to improved eating/drinking habits while cranking out the miles. 

In order to drop any more weight, I'll actually have to start dieting.  I'm not sure if I want to cross that bridge.  I don't mind suffering on the bike for hours and hours, but the prospects of suffering at the dinner table don't have me very motivated.  It would also result in a further encroachment of cycling on family life ("daddy can't go out to dinner with us because he has to stay at home and eat his special diet food"), so I'm not sure if I'm ready to cross that line in 2012.

Work/Life/Cycling Balance

I find it hard to believe that 2011's race results would have shown even the tiniest of progression if it were not for the near ideal work/life/cycling balance I was able to strike.  Work was a disaster for me for the first five months of the year, where I found myself more and more under utilized to the point where I was told to go looking for a new gig.  Yet that work disaster allowed for a cycling boon-doggle, where I could plan my work hours around my cycling training hours.  While most folks had to choose between family time and cycling time when deciding if and how to increase training duration, I had the luxury for a majority of my 2011 training to choose between work time and cycling time.  Any guesses as to who won that decision? 

Add to the mix a wife and family that fully supported my quest to upgrade, and toss in a few "family" vacations in locations ideal for a mountain goats and hill climbers, and you end up with about the perfect amount of miles and hours in the saddle required to score a Cat 3 upgrade, and in a way that didn't seem to intrude on the other important parts of life.

Summary

I admit that the title of this blog is a tad bit misleading.  I doubt the ingredients outlined in my recipe above could be followed by someone else and end up with the same results.  I didn't even specify the measurements to use when adding in the indegredients, so I doubt you could even call this a recipe -- just a list of ingredients.  Furthermore, those that are genetically more gifted than me likely can get by a far simpler recipe, perhaps one of those quick dinners that only require 4 ingredients or less.

Heck, I don't even know if I can follow the recipe again (e.g. I can't easily control work/life/cycling balance now that work has picked up), nor do I know if the same recipe used for a Cat 3 upgrade would translate into success riding as a Cat 3.  But I'm excited to give it a try and start cooking up a successful 2012 as training will begin in about 91 hours!

Cat Up or Not?

Should I?

I started this post over a month ago (Aug 15th to be precise) to help clarify the thoughts I was wrestling with regarding my decision to upgrade (or not upgrade) from Cat 4 to Cat 3.  In the weeks leading up to the Green Mountain Stage race, I was weighing the pros and cons on the decision to upgrade, or to get another year of seasoning in as a 4 before making the jump.

On the "pro" side of the leger, the fields might possibly be safe as I'd be riding with more experienced cyclist.  But given that their also likely more competitive as well, the extra testosterone and aggression might offset the improved handling skills, thereby netting me no extra safety in an upgrade. 

The prize money for the 3s was another "pro", but the odds of me elevating my station from Cat 3 pack fodder to the podium are pretty low, and likely close to 0 in the season after graduating from the 4s. 

The final "pro" I had written down back in my August initial musings was a brief note "tougher competition will take me to new places".  It sounded like something to contemplate further, but I took that thought out of the oven while it was still raw and never got back to baking it until well done.

My list of "cons" ran deep, but in order to keep this post short(er), I've deleted a few and eliminated most of the ramblings I had in support of each bullet:

• I was a good (but not great) 38 year old Cat 4.  As a 39 year old Cat 3, I might being at best pack fodder. Will racing be as fun if the chances of winning (heck, even cracking the top 20) no longer are within arms reach for me?
• Cat 3 races ofter are longer (especially when they are Cat 1 - 3 races) -- will I need to somehow carve up more time to train to avoid being in the gruppetto bringing up the rear in every race?
• Can someone who's never even come close to breaking 1000 W (this year I never broke 950W) ever be considered a Cat 3?
• Most importantly, will I be forced to finally shave my legs to avoid being shunned by the smooth skinned Cat 3s?

Why did I?

I never finished off the original "should I upgrade?" post. The question was still unanswered as the post sat in a draft state when I came home from the GMSR.  But the deadly combination of the exuberance and jubilation from my success over labor day weekend mixed in with a liberal dosing of Long Trail Harvest Ale overwhelmed any rational decision making that hinged upon an answer to that question.  Within minutes of getting my final GMSR race report out, I opened up the USA Cycling website, typed up my 2011 race resume, and then hit submit!

Less than 24 hours later, I had my Cat 3 upgrade notification.  By then my head was no longer swimming in endophins and alchohol and I was back thinking more rationally.  What did I just do?  Better yet, why did I do it?

Was it driven my jealousy?  I've seen a bunch of familiar and friendly faces departing from my Cat 4 fields and instead lining up in the Cat 3 fields.  Was the grass greener on the Cat 3 side of the fence? For the reasons noted above, I doubted that was the case.

Was it subconsciously motivated by some animal like basic instinct to set myself apart from the other males to make myself more desirable to the opposite sex?  Evolution has driven the males of some species to put on big displays of strength or of physical stature to help the females select the most fit mates.  Perhaps something in my genes compelled me to dress up in ungodly colored spandex and strut around with my Cat 3 license much like nature compels a male peacock to seek out females with their bright feather displays and dances?  Maybe there's something to this hypothesis, but as Mrs D will attest, setting myself apart from the Cat 4s hasn't changed how she looks at me.

It wasn't for fame and glory, and it also wasn't done as a step towards replacing Lance on Radio Shack.  So why then did I do it?

The answer finally came to me days later.  After wrapping up my final race of the year, a hill climb up Mount Greylock, I went out on an easy exploratory ride with teammate Dave J.  My legs had already checked out and entered the off-season, which was perfect as it gave me a far too rare opportunity to ride at a casual talking pace.

Dave was telling me a story about some older guy who was reaping the benefits of his years of cycling.  Essentially the moral of his story was that riding the bike was a great means to an end (the end in the case being the goal of pushing out the end of your life). 

And then it clicked in my head and a smile came to my face, as I had my answer, but not the one you'd think.  I enjoy training.  I feel "normal" when supported by structure and planning.  I love diving into my Powertap #s, analyzing the intervals, and keeping track of PRs.  In sick way, I derive pleasure in setting my lungs on fire and beating my legs to a pulp. 

It may sound silly to you, but I know who I am and I'm not afraid to admit it. Moving up to Cat 3 is a means to an end, with the end for me being more more training, revised and restructured plans, and more struggling to walk up the stairs because I've flogged my legs one too many times. 

That said, I am now officially in the off-season, so my need for training, intervals, and structure has been put on hold for a couple of months.  Instead, all of my planning efforts will be redirected towards notching some sorely over-due social and/or exploratory autumn riding.  Looks like I have structure around my non-training time!

Pee-wee Travolta

TCC Charity Ride Racing Tips

For a few weeks now I had my eyes locked on this weekend as I had hoped to end a month long racing hiatus with the CT Stage race.  Not only that, the race last year ended up being one of my most memorable (one that I can truly apply the over-used term "epic"), so for good reasons I was pretty bummed out upon learning of the last minute cancellation by the race promoter due to insufficient registrants.

However, the feeling of disappointment was short-lived.  My racing drought will only be extended by a few days (I'll take on the Crit at the Rent on Tuesday, and then get a real road race in a week from today at Purgatory), and in place of this weekend's race I penciled in a local century run by the Thread City Cycle (TCC) club. 

I'd deserve a smack in the face if I couldn't get over the race cancellation with such a spectacular TCC Century ride.  The weather was near-perfect -- deep blue skies, crisp New England spring-time temps, and just a bit of a breeze.  The course was mostly off the beaten path, through forests, state parks, across the CT River by ferry, and across numerous quaint old towns.  The event staff put on a top-notch set of rest stops ( I believe I consumed more home cooked goodie calories than I burned yesterday ), and pretty much nailed the street markings to keep us on course.  And the field was stacked with friendly faces.  10 Expo teammates joined me, as well as a few other friends of the team, as we joined the rest of the TCC century registrants for the 8 AM kick-off to the day's fun.

As a hermit accustomed to riding in isolation, just having teammates around to chit-chat was reason alone to forget the disappointment of CT Stage Race.  However, I got the added bonus of also getting some unfettered feedback.  Some of the comments directed my way just served to boost my confidence (or ego) -- "Man, your shorts are too baggy"(translated: you're looking lean); "you're killing it at the front today (with a few 3s and 2s in the field, so that comment meant something); and "I've got a new nick-name for you -- Peewee Travolta". 

After asking for further explanation, I was told I earned my new name because of my extremely upright position on the bike,

 

and my incessantly gyrating hip action.

 

Pee-Wee Travolta 

 

I don't have any comfort issues whatsoever while up on even the longest of rides, so my first reaction was "that's nice, I needed a new nickname", failing to motivate me to make a change.  However, after listening to more input from teammate Dave and a few others in our group (especially Ben C who highly recommended I check out Slam that Stem for an idea as to what my bike *should* look like), I'm now inclined to at least experiment with a much smaller stem.  By lowering my position and angling my upper down towards the road, I'm likely to save myself a bit of wind resistance.  I might also find it easier to sprint (and sprinting for me ain't easy) as I might be able to get more leverage out of the handlebars.  Lastly, there's reason to believe that I'll also be able to generate more Watts as I'll be incorporating additional muscle fibers with the new angle my legs will find themselves in.

However, I'm hoping that the experiment won't completely eliminate the hip rocking.  What Dave H failed to realize is that I use the technique to draw rider's attention away from the race.  The constant back and forth rocking was designed to lull the competition into a hypnotic trance, eyes glazed over, just as they would if you had to watch John Travolta swinging his hips for hours out on the dance floor.

What my Cannondale *should* look like with a proper racing stem installed. 

 

So...I'll look to be experimenting this week if I can get my hands on a loaner stem to try out.  Lower the stem and improve my posture and then see if it can translate to a little less wind resistance, a few more Watts, and the end to my short-lived nick name.

Half Way There

People time...

After two months of racing nearly every weekend, and after finishing off the first five months of the training regimen under The Coach where my only companion was my PowerTap, things are going to be a little different for the month of May.  You won't see any "Race:" blog posts from me now until the first weekend of June (CT Stage Race), but instead, you might actually see numerous entries here where (gasp!) I share some of my experiences riding with HUMAN BEINGS!

There are plenty of races in May in the area, and if my schedule had some openings, I'd surely continue to fork over lots of entry fees to local race promoters.  But with the wedding of my sister, the start of my new job, a long planned family bicycle weekend adventure, and perhaps most importantly, my participation in the Climate Ride starting this Friday (it isn't too late to donate!), all weekends in May are tied up.  Even most week nights will soon find me elsewhere, so I'll likely not line up at the ever popular Tuesday @ the Rent with my cheering squad until the high summer heat has arrived.

Don't hit the Pause Button!

Initially I thought the timing of life's racing detour was ideal; after the initial bout of racing I figured that some time away would be good for me.  It would provide an opportunity to refocus again (I've slacked off just slightly on my strict adherence to the Training Plan, and I've let a few extra pounds sneak back onto my belly), and perhaps readjust my training plan.  I've made some solid progress placing wise this year as compared to last, but I've recently started speculating that the lack of true high-end intensity, especially VO2 Max 3 to 5 minute intervals, has separated me from those guys up on the podium.  And if that was true, the pause in May's racing action would afford me an opportunity to work with The Coach to correct this omission from my training plan.

Turns out after talking with him yesterday, the dearth of truly high-end stress intervals wasn't a mistaken ommision.  The training plan for the first four months or so was designed to supply me a sturdy base upon which my power could surge to new heights.  Those new peaks though would be primarily brought out through the fierce competition and challenging courses built into a busy racing schedule. 

Silly me -- I thought I was lining up for the races in March and in early April foolishly thinking that few people had prepared as well as I did to excel right from the start of the season.  I may have worked harder than a lot of folks, but the training regimen hadn't yet given me what I needed so that I can dance on my pedals and float away from the competition as we ascend up the hills.  OK, my parent's DNA likely also didn't give me what I needed to float away, but I'm hoping the training plan can at least get me to a point where I don't come unglued during key race selections (as happened at Battenkill and near the end of stage 3 at Bennington).

But with the pause in racing for May, I'll have to look for other ways to build those peaks upon my big base.  Ride's like last night's team ride would surely do the trick (if of course my wheel doesn't get swallowed up in a pot-hole as it did yesterday), but with me being away most week days for the next month I might not get another one of those under my belt.  Perhaps I can entice a few of the Climate Ride participants to forget we're supporting a charity event and instead pretend we're competing on five stages of the 2011 Giro d'Italia? 

With a little help from my friends

Battenkill Retrospective

First off, let me apologize to all of you who ended up on my last blog post looking for a blow by blow race report on how things unfolded in the Cat 4 Orange race.  A quick search on Twitter and Google will point you to quite a few blogs that will deliver the race details if that's what you're looking for, but that's not really what you got in my last post.  I indulged myself in a little self-therapy at your expense, figuring by focusing in on the thoughts swirling in my head sufficiently to commit them to the keyboard, I'd have an easier and faster time in getting over my disappointment.

Turns out that did the trick, but it also had an added benefit.  In sharing my thoughts, observations, and question marks, I readied myself to move on as I had hoped, but I also exposed enough information for a few friends, fellow racers, and even the Coach to subsequently weigh-in to offer some needed encouragement, as well as a few sound ideas as to what might have gone wrong for me.  So for those of you who sent me messages on Facebook, emails, blog comments, or phone calls -- I owe you a big thanks!  For everyone else, I'll share with you what I took away from the feedback I received.

A number of folks were quick to try their best to deal with my damaged ego.  If my 34th place at Battenkill had been the only race result for me to point to, or if finishing 15 minutes back of first was more or less routine for me, then everyone would agree that perhaps I've aimed my expectations a tad bit too high.  However, as the Coach pointed out, you don't finish 10th and then 4th at the Johnny Cake B race (aka Trooper Binkerhoff Memorial) without having some pretty competitive fitness levels.  I'm certainly not a 20 something genetically gifted stud destined for the podium each time he races, but I'm good enough to at least aim for the top of the Cat 4s (but acknowledging I won't always hit the target).

The next most common theme was that I was dressed for winter weather while racing on a warm spring day.  I honestly never felt excessively hot during the race -- warm, but not over-heating.  But when someone during the race asked me "Where are you from?  My guess is Ecuador!", I took it as a hint that I was perhaps standing out in the pack for my poor clothing decisions.  Based upon the post-race exchanges I've had with folks, it does seem like I was one of the very few who happened to be wearing way too much for what the weather called for. 

Supposedly there are scientfic studies that conclude that if your core body temperature rises too high, your performance will deteriorate.  I was one of the few boneheads who needed to strip down, so it does beg the question as to whether or not I handicapped myself more than the vast majority of the field.  In any case, in the future I'll be erring on the side of lining up feeling a little cooler next time around (or I'll just outsource my clothing decisions to someone more qualified, like my wife).

Delving into the numbers

The most interesting insight I got was focused on observations made from my PowerTap numbers (of course I find any insights gleaned from numerical analyses to be interesting!)  Before I show you my Battenkill charts, take a look at a "normal" interval work-out for me where my normalized power AND my average power were both roughly at 270 Watts for ten minutes.

Normal 10 minute work-out interval

Without going into the details on the difference between normalized and average power, the fact that the two numbers are so similar implies that despite the zig-zags you see in the yellow line above (Power), I held a pretty constant output throughout the interval.  Even where I upped the power (as observed in the two plateaus above), it was done smoothly and with very little variation (you should see a similar interval done on the trainer -- almost no variation!).

Now for comparison, take a look at a ten minute stretch before my legs shut down at Battenkill.

Representative 10 minutes from the first two hours of Battenkill

That snippet is more or less representative of the first 60% of my Battenkill effort, until my legs gave way and were replaced with a toy car engine powered by AAA batteries.  While my normalized power is roughly the same as what you saw in the interval from above, the average power here is just 221.  Again, without going into the technical details (partly because it would bore you, and partly because I doubt I could explain it properly), at the end of the day that discrepancy, combined with the massive variation in the yellow Watt line in the race snippet, is evidence that my legs were repeated going from a resting state to a massive exertion, and then back again.

Now the initial conclusion you might draw from this comparison is that I just didn't properly prepare myself.  While I stressed my legs with the effort in the intervals, it wasn't done in a way that would have properly prepared me for the race day experience.  And to a certain extent, I'd have to say there's an ounce of truth to that (and perhaps gives support to the idea that the best way to prepare for a race is to do more racing).

But...the feedback that I got on my Battenkill power curve (like the one above) was that it looked an awful lot like one taken not from a road race, but instead, it could easily have been snipped from a Crit.  There would have been little for me to write had I not excelled at a crit over the weekend, as I really haven't been training to do well at those races.  So, while it might be a surprise that I didn't do so well at an event that looked like a Crit through the lens of the power data, it does come as a surprise that someone well qualified in such matters characterized what he saw from my road race as being very Crit like.

I know that the field was lively at Battenkill such that you could never just settle in to a constant cadence or wattage #.  However, it wasn't so punchy in my opinion such that it should have required crit like efforts where every 1 km you go idle four times (easing through a 4 cornered crit course) and then stomp out big watts another four times (coming out of the 4 corners). 

I'd like to get more input on this one, so if you don't mind, share a comment or drop me a note.  Does my snippet above look odd given where it came from?  Am I perhaps without knowing it opening up gaps as I'm resting too long and then forcing my legs to unnecessarily burn match after match to keep things together (and more importantly, stressing my body in a way very unlike how most of my training has been done).  For those of you who did Battenkill (maybe even from my race) -- were you maintaining maintaining steadier RPMs and Watts with lower variation?

Closing Thought

Despite my yearning for learning and desire to root cause what went wrong to that I can tinker the plan and execution for the future, perhaps in the end I'll have to just fall back on what might be the best input I've heard over the past three days.  To paraphrase, I'm a human with a thousand variables, racing against 100+ other humans with a thousand variables each, on a course with so many features that it alone adds another thousand variables.  Don't get hung up perhaps looking for a needle in a haystack, and instead, get back out there and get ready for the next race!

Around the Earth in 1,095 Days

2010 By the Numbers

2010 was the first year I gave up on my excel worksheet for tracking miles.  I had kept the excel worsheet going for my first three years of cycling, but at the end of 2009, after using my PowerTap to capture and download the numbers directly to the computer, I realized the manual mileage excel was redundant.  Plus, with miles coming on the trainer, the road, rail trails, and the woods, a mile had lost some of its meaning.  Miles pulling the kids on the train vs. miles accumulated on the trainer was like comparing apples to oranges.

So, given that I no longer hand entered my mileage numbers after each work-out, I lost site of my total yearly miles.  That is until today, with a little time on my hands (a bad weather day, rest day, and a vacation day) and the end of the year nearing, I quickly copied my WKO+ monthly totals to excel and summed them up.  I honestly didn't know what my total was going to be, but I was certain that it was less than last year's 9,400 total (a year where I focused way too much on quantity and not enough on quality) and suspected that it was still more than 2008. 

I didn't have much of a reaction to the number that excel spit out.  8,163 miles thus far, with a few more yet to go before the year draws to an end.  But then being the numbers guy that I am, I started to ruminate on other numbers.

• In the last three years (1,095 days), I've logged just a few miles short of the Earth's circumference of 24,859 miles.
• I lined up 27 times to race for the year, so I shelled out over $1,000 just in race entry fees (never mind travel, lodging, extra gear, etc, etc).  However, I recouped some of that expense with the 4 bottles of water, 1 bag of specialty coffee, and a bike shirt and bike socks that I earned in the Primes I won throughout the year. 
• While I logged nearly 1,300 more miles last year, my time on the bike burned quite a few more calories this year.  My total of over 305,000 kJ for 2010 bested 09 by about 25,000 kJ.  That might have something to do with the fact that I'm ending this year weighing 8 lbs less than the 143 I started the year.
• I regularly remind myself to enjoy this time in my cycling life as the ideal situation I experience in 2010 could change in a heartbeat.  In the past year, work rarely spilling outside of the 9 to 5 boundaries; the weather infrequently barred my bike from the outdoors; my worst injury sustained was to my ego and not to my body; and my most serious illness was at worst a day or two of a mild cold.  Change anyone of those (or countless other) variables, and there's no way I end up logging 572 hours on the bike in 2011.  (That total also includes some hours spent cross training in the gym, but not much.)
• I only recorded 16 MTB rides in 2010, and 5 of them were logged in a memorable February family vacation in Sedona, AZ.  However, that small number is still 16 more than I had recorded in any year before this one.
• If it were not for those 16 MTB rides, my crash count for the year would have ended at just 3.  Once you throw in the MTB rides though (and one psuedo-MTB cross adventure), the number of crashes in 2010 requires more fingers and toes than I possess for me to tally up.
• I only counted 12 family rides in 2010, which surprised me.  I guess the chrystal clear clarity in which I can recall the fun and adventure from almost all dozen of these rides gave me the impression that I had accumulated at least twice that number.
• I started 2010 with doubts as to whether I'd have enough interesting material to keep the TC blog going for a full year.  93 posts, 5,000+ page views, and 137 comments later, I realized I've cleared the first year hurdle, but now my doubts of a full-year's worth of material are simply recast on 2011.
• Lastly, I wish I had a way to tally up the fun, challenge, excitement, adventure I experienced with teammates, friends, and family over the course of the 348 work-out entries I logged in WKO this year.  I'm sure I'd be amazed at how big the number grew over the last year, yet at the same time I'd readily admit that I still fell short.  So, with that said, enjoy the New Year celebration, and I hope I get to add a few more notches to my "fun, challenge, excitement, and adventure" tally with you in 2011!

 

The End of an Error

Trainer Time in Decline

Initially I toyed with penning an "End of an Era" post, but I decided against it for three reasons.  First, despite now making it to my 12th month of posting here to "Trainer Confessions" (TC), it would be a stretch to make the jump from a measly year to a grandiose "Era".  Secondly, I'm still enjoying getting the creative juices going in putting together my thoughts for this blog, so while this may come as a disappointment to some, TC is not coming to an end and the posts will keep on coming.  Lastly, as I finished my first session on rollers the other day, I realized that over the course of time that it took me to type nearly 90 posts, the tag-line for TC, while once accurate, was now outdated and erroneous.

My new roller setup -- note the various objects I've surrounded myself with to put a hand or a foot down on to brace my fall.

A year ago when I first starting blogging, it was appropriate to find the heading "I spend a lot of time on the trainer, and if it wasn't for the time I spend writing the blog, my brain would be filled with cobwebs." right under the TC blog title.  I'm certain that if I added up the time spent on the trainer in 2008 and 2009, it would have likely have dwarfed the time in the saddle outside of the confines of my cloistered office.  I rarely ventured outside during the winter months or in darkness, and I even opted for the convenience of the trainer, especially on work days, throughout the nicest of New England summer months. 

For some (perhaps most?), the time I spent on the trainer would have been akin to a prison sentence.  But perhaps because I started using the Trainer so early in my cycling career, I didn't know what I was missing out on.  "Ignorance is bliss" they say, so I happily spun away in front of my computer for hours on end.

A new tag-line

However, ever since the TC blog got going, the time spent on the trainer slowly began to decline.  It isn't that I've grown to hate the time riding in my office.  I doubt I've gone more than two weeks at any point throughout the year without some time on the trainer.  And soon enough, once the snow and ice make their inevitable comeback, I'm sure I'll spend at least a few weeks without any miles being logged outside of the house.  Riding the trainer is still a convenient way for me to get time on the bike, and when I have to resort to the trainer, I still do so without complaint.  But, due in large part because of this blog, I'm seeking out far more opportunities to avoid the error of locking into the trainer too frequently.

"How does writing a blog keep you off the trainer?" you might ask.  You might think that the reason is that there isn't a lot of writing material to draw upon if you're stuck on a trainer.  While its true that this blog would be rather sparse with just trainer experiences for source information, I'm not so concerned about you, the reader, at least when it comes to planning my rides.  I've never knowingly opted to bring the bike outdoors simply to generate ideas for a new blog post.

It turns out that the mental process of writing the blog post seems to have enhanced the memories of all that I've experienced out on the roads and enhanced my appreciation of all that cycling has to offer.  I know I enjoyed rides before I started blogging, but back then the memories seemed to quickly fade away.  When I hopped back on the trainer, it almost seemed like I wasn't missing out on much. 

Now that I take the time to reflect on all of the memories and stories as I prepare to write a new TC post, the images and feelings exerienced thoughout the ride now seem to persist in my head a lot longer and with far greater fidelity.  Somehow writing this blog has forged new connections in my brain and in the process has created a powerful motivator to get back out there and do it again.  More rides lead to more posts and more images and feelings sizzled into my memory, drawing me back out again, etc, etc.

So, while the TC blog will continue on, this is the end of the now erroreous tagline.  Take a look above (assuming you're not reading this through RSS) and check out the new tagline.

I used to spend a lot of time on the trainer; this blog keeps me from relapsing.

Coaching

A Great Plan

Just a couple of days after completing the Tour of the Hilltowns back in July, I fired off the following email to a local cycling coach:

Now that the 2010 road season is about to draw to an end for me , I'm starting to think a little about 2011 and the possibility of leveraging a coach.  So far in the three years I've been racing, self-coaching seems to have worked well for me.  Compared to last year, my fitness is significantly improved – 5 Min Power up over 5%, 20 minute power up over 10%, and 1 min power now up nearly 20%.  Perhaps more importantly, my race results have significantly improved as well.  Last year I was more or less happy to finish mid-pack, whereas this year I've consistently been knocking on the door of the top ten in the Cat 4 road races.  A lot of that progress is attributed to the success of my training, though a big part in my race results improvement stems from improved racing smarts.

I've come up with plans on my own by just reading and doing web research, and I've pretty much followed those plans religiously, so I don't need a coach simply to help with discipline.  I've got that covered.  What I do need help with, or I suspect that I need help with, is coming up with a "great" plan.  Like I said, I have had decent results thus far with my plans, however, with my limited knowledge accumulated over just a few years I highly doubt that what I've been working against can be viewed as a great plan, one that could eventually get me on to the podium at road races and then upgraded to Cat 3.

{ending snippet as the email continued on...}

So far in my three years of racing I’ve viewed my progress with a bit of pride.  I’m not winning races yet, but what I have done to date has been complete born from the my own planning and dedication.  Up until now I’ve for some reason viewed coaching as a crutch only needed by those who lack a certain level of self-motivation.  I’ve also viewed it from time to time as a financial means to produce better race results, no different than throwing money at the latest bike tech to speed up by lopping off a few more grams.

I’m  looking at the prospect of getting a coach differently now.  Unlike the immediate gratification one can get by purchasing the latest high-tech bike gear, I’m hoping that my time with a coach will yield gains that will snowball over time.  I’m not looking for that crutch to simply step in and tell me what to do, I’m looking at this as an opportunity to learn from someone with a boatload more experience than me.  Sure, those lessons will likely have the immediate boost to my performance in the upcoming season, but more importantly I’m hoping that over the longer term I’ll become a far better planner so that perhaps I can go it alone once again as a self-coached racer.

I’ll let you know how it goes as my coaching engagement hopefully begins soon!