Yes, I had some fun on the bike. Put on almost exactly the same number of miles as 2012, even though I took almost 3 full months off (I put less than 1,000 miles in after August). Aside from the great riding though, this was a pretty uneventful year. 2014 looks to be the exact opposite. Lots of change, lots of excitement and lots of riding.
Although my 10 days of ToAD were an improvement over 2012, it finished with a pathetic limp to the finish line on the last day. If I said I was running on fumes at that point, I’d just be giving fumes a bad rap. I was smoked. While my overall fitness had improved from the prior year, my specificity really had not. I didn’t really dial my riding back very much in the off-season, and by ToAD I had lost any and all strength gains made in the gym over the winter.
This year I did the opposite – less riding in the off-season, more time in the gym. Lots of CrossFit-type of stuff. Fixing aches and pains and weaknesses and strength imbalances. I feel much better, and I hope it pays off.
Time will tell. Now if the snow would ever go away…
One more minute riding inside and I might go Postal. This weather sucks. I’m keeping as much body hair as possible right now, just to stay warm:
Yes, we all know how cold it is. But, when I look back at this in a year as I’m getting ready to ride outside in the morning, I probably won’t see this warning:
“WIND CHILL VALUES… BETWEEN 35 AND 40 BELOW FROM EARLY THIS MORNING UNTIL MID-MORNING… SLOWLY RISING TO 20 TO 25 BELOW BY THIS AFTERNOON. VALUES FALL TO BETWEEN 25 AND 30 BELOW TONIGHT … AND REMAIN AT 20 TO 25 BELOW THROUGH THE EARLY MORNING WEDNESDAY.”
The kinder, gentler version of the Windy rolled out on July 25th and ended up also being the easiest, shortest, best attended and record # of flat tires (20ish?) so far. No 160+ mile days at 20mph this year.
Almost no one was immune this year (technically).
Riding through the urban jungle (Racine is beautiful in July…) means riding through lots of crap on the road, so daily flats became a part of the experience. 500.4 miles and just 8,208 feet of elevation gain.
Mile 6. We are so screwed.
This ride has grown a bit since its inception 3 years ago. Back then it was just 4 guys on bikes who shipped a small box of stuff to a couple of hotels. No support. This year we had a full-sized Suburban full of crap, a skilled driver who always made sure the PBR was stocked and cold when we rolled in, and 9 riders.
Speaking of PBR, this year we combined the Windy 500 with another ride: “the PBR”. If you know the ride, consider yourself down. It’s a slower paced 150 miles over 2 days punctuated with awesome food, lots of wine and other beverages.
Because we would be behind on mileage for the first 2 days, we rode out to Palmyra (the “P” in the PBR ride) on Thursday night. Mileage looked like this for the long weekend:
Day .5 42.2 miles
Day 1.0 50.1 miles
Day 1.1 52.1 miles
Day 2.0 46.3 miles
Day 2.1 55.6 miles
Day 3.0 110.7 miles
Day 4.0 143.4 miles
We’ve gone North & West and since you can’t go East of Milwaukee without a seaworthy vessel, we headed South this year.
Chicago and Northern Indiana don’t really offer much in the way of beautiful scenery, so the vibe was markedly different from years past.
The route did offer lots of places to stop (although some were in areas that you couldn’t have paid us to stop in) and lots of “local color” as Chris McArdle pointed out.
All in all – another successful long weekend of nothing but riding, eating, drinking and smack talk.
We ended up on a lots of Rails to Trails segments, usually a better alternative than the Ghetto Ride.2 dead soldiers.Sausage Party!Better Sausage Party! Real Chicago dogs fueled the final leg.I changed a lot of flats. All on Lampe’s bike.Many times we helped change flats by taking pictures, talking smack and drinking PBRs.There were MANY flats. Therefore, there were MANY PBRs.1 of 2 times we saw the sun and temps above the low 60’s.Gravel.Sophisticated Cobbles?Another flat/PBR break.Best. Ride. Ever.
As the rookies said, count me in for next year! Already planning for 2014, when we may head back to ‘da UP again…
You might even be invited this time.
Potential 2014 dates: July 25 – 28 August 1 – 4 August 8 – 11
Day 1:(Day 2 of ToAD actually, but for all of us who don’t get paid to play – it’s Day 1)
East Troy. Nerves on edge, been training and looking forward to this since the end of ToAD last year (like hundreds of other riders). Storm blows in and dampens the course and bodies, but not spirits. We’re still all jacked to race… too jacked. Corners are sketchy and riders pile up like bodies in a war zone. A friend from velocause flats his rear wheel and neutral support gives him a rock hard slick replacement to ride for the last laps in the rain. That’s not a good combination in any playbook, and he eats it hard right in front of me and 2 teammates in turn 1 with 4 laps to go. My teammates and I all slide into someone’s front yard, but somehow manage to stay upright. By the time we veer back on course, the main pack has mostly passed us and any attempt to get to the front is a suicide mission. I decide to play it safe and finish mid-pack ~ 38th of 74.
Day 2:
Grafton. A fun course, nerves are settled down quite a bit. Was able to follow Dave Eckel’s wheel around at the end of the course and sprint for 10th (of 116). I’m still learning how to ride aggressively at the end of races, having been a support guy at last year’s ToAD, but I was happy with tenth. I knew I wasn’t close enough to the front on the last lap, so I was hoping to improve the next day.
Day 3:
Waukesha. I ate it hard with 3 to go on this course last year. Over-shot turn 1 and flipped into the barriers. I was able to get back on my bike and work my way to the front with 1 to go, but I burned every match I had to do so and fell back quickly. No crashes for me this year, but apparently everyone I rode behind didn’t get the memo. Every time I tried working my way to the front, I’d end up behind a wreck and get relegated to the back again. One guy piled his bike into the barriers, went to neutral support and got another bike, then piled THAT one into the same corner. I was lucky enough to be right behind him both times. I spent the entire race avoiding crashes, then trying to sprint back to the front of the pack. With 3 laps to go, Dave Eckel and I found ourselves out in front, me on his wheel. He hit some soft tar in the gutter and thought he flatted, so I’m all alone off the front with 3 to go. With all the yo-yoing I had been doing combined with the extremely humid heat that day, I knew I didn’t have enough in the tank to gut it out alone for 3 laps. I sat up and waited for a wheel. The group passed me like a freight train and I was pushed to the back. Tried my best to make it back to the front but once again I had burned all my Waukesha matches before the final sprint. Finished a disappointing 41st (of 110). After the race, my body temp was so high I could not cool down, or catch my breath. An hour and a half later I jumped into my neighbors pool and sat with ice on my neck for 15 minutes before I could slow my breathing. I love riding in the heat, but I’ve never experienced anything like that. Waukesha was by far the toughest race of the series for me.
Day 4:
Sheboygan. This course was made for guys like me. Fast and flat with just 4 corners. I moved to the front right away and just stayed on the gas with the race leaders the entire race. With no traffic in my way, I was able to roll through just about every corner at will. The effort felt like 50% of the previous day. I was having a great race, until 2 to go. Rather than take the riskier, but faster, inside line, I found myself taking corners on the outside and giving up 2-3 spots on each corner. By the time I worked my way back inside I was probably 30 spots from the leader. Clawed my way back a bit in the sprint to finish 17th of 69. It was just lack of experience, and I told myself not to make the same mistake at Fon du Lac (a carbon copy course) four days later. Overall, I was really happy though. It was fun to race at the front, and I knew what I had done wrong at the end. I was making some progress.
Day 5:
Schlitz Park. The great big lie detector test. I’ve raced it twice before, both times pulling myself from the race after about 20 minutes. There’s no faking it at Schlitz. If you can’t hang, you either blow up and slither away to lick your wounds somewhere, or the race officials step in front of you and pull the plug for you. This year, since I planned to race every day, my goal was just to finish it. I’ll never be confused with a little fella who skips meals, so this wasn’t as easy as it sounds. Even with a long warm-up, it takes me about 15-20 minutes to settle in at races and not feel like my heart’s going to explode. I fought hard for the first 15 minutes and managed to find a rythym. With 1 lap to go I rounded turn 1 and started the final climb. Everyone got out of the saddle and hammered. I knew that if I tried that, I’d make it to the top with everyone else, then I’d fall over dead. So, I stayed in the saddle and ground my way up. Crossed the line 21st of 60. Since my only goal was finishing, I was satisfied with that. Cross it off the list and move on.
Day 6:
Fon du Lac Road Race. When I started racing road bikes a couple of years ago, I did so with not a lot of group riding experience. Well, not 25mph-corners-6-wide group riding. I was a mountain bike guy, used to riding alone. My very first Crit was a 9 corner, .8 mile Superweek race. I started dead last on purpose, so I could see things unfold in front of me. I assumed that this would be the best way to do it, and like in a mountain bike race I could just pass people one at a time. I think I might have lasted about 8 minutes before I was so far off the back I had to take a bus back to the start line. After that I assumed that road racing would be my forte. But live and learn, and now I prefer crits to road races. I stayed upfront for the whole race and sprinted for 12th of 81. Had I been more patient, I would have done better. I started my sprint too early as we climbed the final hill. I don’t think there’s enough Meth in the world to get me to sprint all out for a quarter-mile.
Day 7:
Road America Road Race. Schlitz Park and then back to back road races. Hope you’ve been eating your Wheaties. This was a really fun course to ride. Again stayed at the front whenever I could, though I did find myself on the outside wheel in the wind a lot. On the final lap I heard Eck yell “Patience!” which is great advice if you follow it. Instead I decided to try a Groundhog Day version of the previous day’s race. Giant finishing hill, I get out of the saddle and mash the pedals like I’m driving a rented Pinto. As I crest the top I look into the (very distant) horizon and see what looks like a finish banner somewhere in the next county. Several months later I cross the line 23rd of 109.
Day 8:
Fon du Lac. This is the one I was waiting for. A big, flat rectangle. Wide streets. I’m ready. My plan is to just sit on the race leaders’ wheels at the front, maybe take an early pull or 2 and finally line myself up for a real sprint. Plan works just as scripted, though I still give up a few spots on the final lap. Coming around turn 4 I’m in good position and I stand up and hammer. I can see the banner coming up fast as I’m passing guys… this is working! Probably a good time to mention that my Mom and Stepdad came to see this race and positioned themselves right at the line to watch the final sprint. 50 yards from the line, a guy comes across 3 lines and clips a wheel sending a rider to the pavement directly in front of me. Zero options at that point – I hit him full force and flip onto the pavement. As soon as I do I curl up and wait to get hit by the rush of riders directly behind me. 1, 2, 3 hits, then I’m up and running my bike across the line. Turns out someone had ridden over my back and into my head with their chainring. Blood is cleaned, stitches are waived off and I wash down my frustration with 2 pints of Guinness. When results are posted There are 2 “unknown number” slots, so I go to the podium and watch the video of me running my bike across in what appears to be slot #1, 29th. Once results are finalized I realized that I’ve been bumped to slot #2, which is 51st. Either way, it’s not part of the plan, and it’s just salt in the many wounds.
Day 9:
Downer Avenue. The biggest and baddest of all the ToAD races. This is the giant party that everyone comes out to see, and therefor every rider wants to do well at. Really an uneventful race for me. I was really stiff and sore, so I did a nice, long easy warm-up. Worked my plan, but didn’t get to the front with 1-2 to go, sprinted for 15th of 94. Starting to become a bit predictable when things go well for me. I have 95% of the race handled, and I’m getting good at it, but I can’t seem to finish it off. Tired of using the “lack of experience” excuse in my own mind. I know what I need to do now, and I have 1 race left to prove it.
Day 10:
Wauwatosa. I ride in Tosa practically every week. Half of my friends live there. This is it! The night before, I send an email to the entire M 3/4 squad: here’s the plan, we stay at the front the whole day, push the pace but don’t take unnecessary chances. With 5 to go we start making our way to the front. With 2 to go we ARE the front. Last lap, anyone with anything goes and they go as hard as they can… Break! I’m kind of impressed with my sudden and complete understanding of the entire game. It took 10 days, but I have absolutely nailed this one! Race Day… there’s a hill in this course? Did they just put that there? It’s always been there? Are you sure? 2 free laps and I line up mid-pack. That was not part of the plan. Whistle blows and we start into a nice hard tempo ride, right? No? We go balls out from the start? Did anyone read my awesome email last night? Apparently I was not the only person who wanted to win this thing. I was not aware of that. The guys in the front are just laying it down, lap after lap. The guys in the middle are gasping like goldfish that just jumped out of their fish bowls and have no idea what the Hell to do next. Hard on the brakes into every corner, hard on the gas out of every corner. Hey, this reminds me of that first Superweek Crit I did! Just when I start making up a little ground, they announce a prime. The field surges. Then another. And another. And another. 4 back-to-back primes and in my mind I’m just trying to figure out how to recall my email message. With about 5 to go I pop. Nowhere to go but backward. I find a friendly velocause rider and we pull each other around a little and limp across the line. I’m 41st of 92 and my 2013 ToAD is officially over.
Summary:
Despite not being able to use all the knowledge I was picking up as I went along, I definitely learned a lot. I have more confidence than I did 2 weeks ago. I’m OK with riding at the front now. 2 weeks ago I didn’t feel worthy, and I’m still struggling with the mental part of racing as much as the physical. I ended the series in 10th overall in the Masters 3/4 35+ category. Next year I’ll be racing in the 45+ category, and it’s a whole different ball game.
I had fun. Like everyone else, I put a lot of effort into training and make some sacrifices. If I didn’t enjoy it as much as I do, there’s no way I would put that much of myself into it. At the same time, I’ve enjoyed getting better over the past couple of years. I used to be an excuse maker, for every aspect of my life. Cycling has helped me prove to myself that if you put the work in, you get results. There are no excuses that can take the place of that work, and quite honestly no one cares about your lame-ass excuses. Score your touchdown, set the ball down and go back to the bench.
I have some really great friends. Not only the guys I ride with, but the people who lined the courses. There was always someone yelling for me – at every course. It makes you want to do better, for them, and it’s a great feeling knowing you have people around you hoping that you succeed.
I’ll be back next year, I’m already planning it out in my head. But first, there are kids to play with, burgers to grill and beers to drink.
My alarm went off at 4:20 this morning. I got up, got my gear on, loaded up my bike and drove to Whitefish Bay. At 5:15, I usually roll out for a 35ish mile fast ride with a bunch of guys – but this morning the streets were empty. The forecast called for rain, maybe heavy rain, and it looked like no one was in the mood to get wet… except me.
I enjoy riding bikes, always have. There are a million reasons why, but only one that matters: I find my center on a bike. Sure, I like to be fit, I like to challenge myself, I like a lot of stuff about riding, but it is also the one place I do my best thinking. Not always, but often enough that I make it a regular part of my life hoping for that window of clarity on each ride.
For the past few years, my life seems to have been in a bit of a rut. Not necessarily a bad (or good) rut, just a bit like Groundhog Day. Wake up, ride my bike, go to work, come home, run the kids around, take care of homework, relax for 3 minutes, fall asleep, wake up, ride my bike… Sometimes I find it hard to just be in the moment. I’m sure I’m in the majority here, everyone has stress and responsibilities that can make each day much like the one before it, but it’s still a series of choices we all make.
This morning I arrived at the start of the ride, a light mist of rain falling down, and I waited. I waited for someone else to show up. I waited for someone else to follow. I waited for someone else to validate what I was doing here – 20 miles from home at 5:15am in the rain. But no one else came. I’ve heard that true character is measured by what you do when no one else is around. So here was that scenario; do I ride anyway, or just pack it in? What does it matter anyway? But, by thinking about that decision I realized that I was missing the point completely. I didn’t get up at 4:20 and drive across town in the rain for anyone other than myself. I was here because I wanted to be, I needed to be. So I rode. And it was the best ride I’ve had in years.
As I rolled out, my legs were tight. I rode to the Masters 123 race at the Milwaukee Mile from home on Saturday, raced and then rode home. Just shy of 60 miles round-trip, and the last 2 mile lap of the race was a hair under 28 mph. It was a great day and a great race, but I spent the next 2 days doing nothing and this morning I was stiff and sluggish because of it. I was riding my CX rig; a heavy, 1×9 Frankenbike with 28c tires and full fenders, so speed was not a concern. After a couple of miles, my legs started to loosen up and I started to settle in for the ride. As I did, my mind started to loosen up as well, and I felt a sense of relaxation and calm sweep over me. Within 5 miles I was in full-on daydream mode. A fork in the road caught my attention and I looked up only to realize that I had no idea where I was. I’ve ridden this route a hundred times and I didn’t recognize a thing now. I couldn’t tell you what I was thinking about – writing a symphony, staring at the ocean, curing cancer – not a clue. It was a bit startling. I circled back and found the missed turn just a few blocks back. I had been floating along in that not-sleeping-but-not-awake state for at least a mile. Dangerous, yes, but this morning the roads were eerily quiet and I hadn’t seen a car since I left. I was completely lost in the moment, and I realized that it had been a long time since I had felt like this.
There are very few things in life, in my life, that can pull me entirely into a single point in time: the moment I looked into my wife’s eyes and said “I do”, the moments my children were born, the death of a loved one, etc. All of these are extraordinary events, and I have found that there are very few other times in life that I find myself NOT thinking about the future. I don’t understand why I wouldn’t want to live my life more like those moments. Instead, I find myself watching my kid’s school performance, but thinking about a report due at work the next day. Watching a funny movie with my wife on a Friday night, thinking about all the yard work we have to do in the morning. Celebrating any victory in life, but simultaneously looking ahead to the next set of obstacles. Life isn’t about tomorrow, life is about living – right now. Life is about being alone in a rain-shower on a cool Tuesday morning and realizing that there’s a house you’ve ridden by 100 times and you’ve never seen it. It’s about realizing that intent and action are 2 separate yet parallel universes. It’s about calling your parents or grandparents and asking them how their day is, even if that call is just a look toward the sky. It’s about loving what you do, or getting off that bus. It’s about being around people who you care about, that care about you, all the time. It’s about not waiting.
I didn’t make any life-changing decisions this morning, I didn’t solve any problems, but I didn’t wait. I got up and took charge of that hour and a half, and I lived within it. Tonight, when I get home I’m going to hug my wife and kids and I’m not going to let go until after they do, and I’ll be right back in that place I was this morning.
Sprinting – you either have it, or you don’t… right? We’ve all watched the great ones with amazement and disbelief: Zabel, Cipollini, Cavendish, Kelly, etc. They seem like they were born to sprint. In the modern era, we watch the overhead HD helicopter feed as the high-speed bullet train lines them up to launch for the line. We see them squeeze through gaps the human eye can barely detect at 40+ mph, violently rocking back and forth for what seems like an eternity as we hold our breath… We hear Phil or Paul saying things like “…Renshaw is putting the missile in the tube…”. And then it’s over.They cast a casual glance over their shoulder as they cross the line alone, having zipped their jersey before the effort in the ultimate pro move to show respect for the sponsors. Or they cross it in a psychotic tangle of bodies, looking like a pack of rabid wolves chasing an injured rabbit, launching their bikes at the line at the exact millisecond needed to stake their claim. Then they raise their arms to some point between a crucifixion and a salute, which is oddly enough, probably a metaphor for both how they feel ANDthe way to see if someone is having a stroke.
So… how does a Masters Cat 3 like me with very little sprint knowledge or experience get better? You ask the Pros. So I did.
“I’m no expert when it comes to coaching for sprinting. The main thing I can say is I’ve found efficiency of movement is very important. Moving pedals fast is the #1 focus then you need to add force behind the pedaling speed.
From what I’ve found sprinting more in training does help. There aren’t many short cuts to improvement. The #1 way to improve sprinting in my book is to get on the track where you are forced to learn how to pedal fast.”
I’ve been wanting to get down to the Washington Park Velodrome in Kenosha for a couple of years, but haven’t made it enough of a priority. Here’s a guy who has personally been responsible for training millions of elite athletes telling me to make that my TOP priority. What excuse could I possibly come up with to NOT go this year?
If you’ve read anything about Lance in the past 5 years, you’ve seen the name Frankie (or his wife Betsy) pop up. What sometimes gets lost in the story is how incredible Frankie was, having competed in the TdF 9 times.
Perhaps referencing my own hopes, I started by asking him who was good at sprinting that shouldn’t be. Frankie shared the following with me:
“There is no mold for a sprinter. I think of skinny guys when it comes to not being a good sprinter. But it’s all down to the fitness and training and muscle fibers. Alberto Contador comes to mind as a great climber but also a rider with a fast finish. Taylor Phinney is tall and lean and yet he is very fast and powerful. He isn’t just a sprinter but can do everything. Cycling in a way is a jumble of athletic misfits, riders of all different shapes and sizes can excel in different areas.”
So you’re saying there’s a chance? A guy like me, built more for hockey than cycling, can – with the right training, fitness and muscle fibers – at least get invited to the party.
Right training – check. Work with a coach, or at least structure your training around your goals.
Fitness – check. Lay off the beer, work hard in the gym in the off-season, on the bike in pre-season.
Muscle fibers… uh.. aren’t you born with or without a certain type? More on that later.
Next I asked for his thoughts about “controversial or unconventional sprinters” (are you sensing a theme?):
“Not sure on this one. Controversial are the ones that are super aggressive and do whatever they want even if it means crashing. Some call this just being aggressive and confident but there is a line that can be crossed in going too far. I consider (that) you cross the line if you push and pull with your hands, sling riders, or hit with your shoulders or head. This just becomes dangerous. You have to keep your hands to yourself. This is where the natural talent and muscle fibers take over. It’s special to find someone like Cavendish, Kittel, Sagan, that have that extra turbo of power to hold everyone off. It’s more about power then speed. “
Roger that. Be confident, but don’t be a dick. Got it. And more about the damn muscle fibers?? Moving on. Lots has been written about what you SHOULD do to become a better sprinter, but what about things you SHOULDN’T do? What are some of the biggest mistakes or wastes of time?:
“One mistake is waiting too long to be in position. It depends on the race but you can’t wait until the last lap to move up and sprint. You need to be in position a few laps before the end in a crit. As the speed increases you save energy by already being in the front. A common mistake in road races is being too close to the front when all the workers peel off you find yourself out front with too far to go to the finish. It’s good to find other sprinters and sometimes follow them during the last kilometers. The experienced guys know where to place themselves.It’s important in a finish to know where you want to start your sprint. Pick that spot out ahead of time and when you reach that mark go no matter what. If you wait a second you might get passed and then you’ll second guess that hesitation. As you sprint you learn if you are good from a long way out or need to wait and do a shorter sprint.”
OK, maybe nothing too revolutionary here, but the one thing I keep re-reading is “…when you reach that mark go no matter what.” There is absolutely nothing physical about that statement, it is 100% confidence, something I am sorely lacking when it comes to the sprint. I am in sales and whenever a new sales rep starts there is inevitably a chicken and egg scenario:
Should I call on new customers on day 1 without knowing the new products/service, or should I wait until I have enough knowledge to feel comfortable setting the appointment?
Inevitably, the person with the most confidence makes the call on Day 1. The other NEVER GAINS THE CONFIDENCE, no matter how long they study the products and services. Confidence comes from within, and involves facing fear head-on. This much I know, but that doesn’t mean I always put it into action. When I was younger, I was afraid of heights. In order to overcome the fear, I jumped out of a plane… several times. Fear conquered – confidence inspired. So, it sounds like the cycling equivalent is to pick my spot in a couple of early season races and go for broke.
Last question, I pull back the curtain and go for broke. “If you were to train me for 4 weeks for the Tour of America’s Dairyland and had a million dollars on the line, what would it look like?”:
“Motorpacing is great. It’s super valuable and makes a huge difference in speed. Sitting behind the motor and sprinting around it at 28mph will help your power and teaches your body to be able to turn the gear.
Accelerations. Starting from a low-speed and then in the saddle accelerating up to a full spin in about ten seconds. This teaches explosive power, leg speed, and recruits the fast twitch muscle fibers.
Power sprints in a large gear are great also. Same as above. Slow speed and in 53×11 jump out of the saddle for ten seconds and try to accelerate.
Another option is to find a medium hill. Use the downhill to take you up to speed and at the bottom take off flat-out and hold until the speed starts to drop. Once the speed drops then you shut down. All of these exercises are like intervals but with full recovery in between.”
OK, cool stuff – but even MORE about muscle fibers. Let’s see what all the hoopla is about.
You’re either a born sprinter, or you can transform yourself into a sprinter. I’m in the second category, so let’s explore that a bit more. You’re born with a pre-determined body type and a pre-determined % of fast-twitch (sprinting) & slow twitch (strength and endurance) fibers. André the Giant can’t transform into Djamolidine Abdoujaparov but you can transform into a leaner, meaner version of yourself. How? Quoting Baggett:
“In training you can accomplish this by focusing your training on strength, power, and speed dominant activities. By doing so you train your nervous system and all your muscle fibers to behave in more of a fast twitch manner.”
Sounds simple, but painful. In cycling this translates to things like squats, plyo-metrics, pushing a weight sled and anaerobic activities like (surprise) sprinting. Check out another Baggett article called “How to Create a Speed Machine Using the Weight Room”.
If you listen to those who know, and you want to find yourself on a podium at the end of your next race here’s the secret sauce :
Get fit. All of the rest of this revolves around the fact that you’ve done what you can to get as lean, mean and strong as you can before the race starts.
Learn to pedal fast. Well… duh. I thought I had this one tackled until I started adding high RPM training rides into my pre-season work. As someone who never used to shift into his small chainring (never) it’s been eye opening to try to sustain a 120+ RPM spin for more than 30 seconds, especially uphill.
Actually, this is probably point #2.1 – ride the track. You can’t go fast if you can’t go fast. Not everyone has access to a track/track bike, so the lesson here is learn to churn butter for a long time. And when it’s super- creamy, churn it some more. Besides, who doesn’t love butter?
Get stronger. Not Hulk Hogan strong, but functionally strong. Learn to push beyond your comfort zone, and then beyond that.
Get confident. It seems to me that sprinting is 90% mental. Knowing you are going to win, knowing when to go, knowing how hard to go, never second guessing yourself. I’ve seen all of those traits in the guys that win consistently.
And here’s one last one I’ll throw in – wise up. Get smarter. You can’t crush it at the line, if you’ve been crushing it the whole race. Last year, 1 guy, riding by himself, won the entire Tour of America’s Dairyland series (in my Category) by riding smart. He laid back during the race and let everyone else do the work. With 2 laps to go, he put himself in position to win and on relatively fresh legs sprinted out the last hundred meters every day. After a few days of this the entire peloton assumed each day would boil down to a sprint so no one ever pushed the tempo and made him work. There were probably faster guys, and smarter guys and guys with a lot of confidence in the pack, but only one with the perfect blend of all 3. Without saying a word, he dictated the series – just like you can this year.
Next month – Part 2 including an interview with another 7-11 rider (and local legend) Tom Schuler.
Brothers and sisters, if you want to know how to do everything wrong – you’ve come to the right place!
I’ve done all the legwork for you, no need to break a sweat or crack open a book. All the answers are right here. I’ve been training this way for a long time, so I know it works!
Ride hard – all the time! Recovery is only for people who want to win races. Riding hard all the time is what you should be doing on every group ride. Go to the front and push the pace – don’t let up. I know that some of the guys you’re riding with are on 12-speed Firenze mountain bikes they got free with a sofa and love-seat combo, but who cares? When you get to the coffee shop afterwards you’ll be able to gloat about how you smoked everyone on that 9 mile ride through the park. And hey, did I see you drop that Mom with the Burley going uphill? That was EPIC dude! KOM points for sure!!
Water’s for fish. I know it’s hot out, and you spent the whole night eating Saltines, but what’s more kick-ass than finishing a ride with a full water bottle? Yeah Buddy! Hydration is for houseplants. Besides, drinking water makes you weigh more and we all know about the whole Watts to Body Weight thing, right? I’m pretty sure Contador never drinks any liquids – that’s why he can fly up mountains so fast.
“Diets” are for soccer Moms. I eat whatever I want, and it doesn’t affect me at all. Sure, I run a little low on energy sometimes, or feel a bit sluggish after that 7th piece of deep dish pizza, but cyclists need a lot of calories. I’m sure that by race season I’ll have lost some weight… If not, I’ll just blame my genes.
Get 5 hours of sleep a night! Yeah, I’ve heard that you should get 8, but what am I a newborn?? I have stuff to do! Bonus – watch TV before you go to sleep. Preferably something violent or disturbing. Like Golden Girls.
It’s all about the bike. You cannot go fast without all of the latest, greatest equipment. You’re still riding 2012 Dura Ace?? What a loser. Haven’t you heard that the 2013 version is .05 grams lighter?? I mean, if we lived on the moon, that would be like 6 pounds! If it’s not carbon, it’s crap. You should really cut down on the actual riding you do in order to spend more time in online chats about the latest gear. There’s no way you’re going to keep up or hope to go fast if all you do is ride.
Your bikes all fit just fine. Put the seat wherever it feels good, slap your cleats on and you’re ready to ROCK! Don’t worry, everyone gets knee and back pain, numb feet and hands – it’s just the price you pay for riding a bike.
Blueprints are for architects – not cyclists. I just get up and do whatever suits me that day. Training by feel – it worked in the 1800s, and it still works today. Although having a PowerTap does make you look cool, don’t ask me what it’s for.
Stay tuned for a follow-up article: “Hipster Etiquette – How to peg your jeans”
The non-cycling community has already moved on to the next celebrity car wreck. I have moved on. Armstrong is a super-human douche, whose achievements in cycling will never be duplicated. Which leads me to today – I’m still wearing the LIVESTRONG bracelet that I put on 7 years ago. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot??
My father-in-law, Joseph Kohlnhofer (seen in the black and white photo above) was diagnosed with cancer long ago. Long enough ago in fact, to have been gone for over 6 years now. He was not a cyclist. He was not even an athlete. He was the product of a bygone era: had strong opinions, paid cash for everything (including his homes/cars), took some shrapnel in Korea and blared polka music in his car on the way to work. He was too old to be my Dad (my parents are still relatively young) and too young to be my grandfather. He fit a niche in my life that was empty almost 20 years ago, and we bonded immediately. Over the years we spent countless hours working on projects together, or just futzing around in my yard or his.
After he was diagnosed with cancer, someone he worked with gave him a yellow bracelet, which he wore. I purchased one and wore it too. I am a cyclist, and this was when athletes everywhere were starting to proudly sport their LIVESTRONG bracelets. I never put mine on in support of Lance or LIVESTRONG though. If he had bronzed a dog turd and wore that as a necklace, I’d probably still be wearing poop around my neck.
Thankfully, no one really seems to care about the bracelets anymore, which is fine by me. Mine breaks about every 12 months and I reach into my stash and grab another one.
First off – I am personally guaranteeing that we’ll have much warmer weather than this morning’s ride for the 2013 Windy 500. If not, I am offering 200% refunds to all participants.
There have been a number of significant flavor enhancements to this year’s event:
This is the bike I plan to ride. I’ll probably add a rack with an insulated bag too (to keep cans of PBR cold). No need for speed, or style, or front derailleurs for that matter. I may smoke a pipe and wear a tweed jacket for the whole ride too.
We’ll once again have the infamous Jeremy driving sag. A Suburban and an enclosed trailer. You can bring as much crap as you need!
We’ll take the speeds down to “reasonable”. I swear. I really mean it this time. Years past, the speeds have been known to creep up. So, we’ll need to find something else to get Lampe pissed off about this year.
This year, we’ll actually launch on Thursday evening. We’ll roll about 35 or so miles to Palmyra and stay overnight there, enjoying delicious beer and wine and beer Thursday evening. And beer.
Friday morning, we’ll have breakfast in Palmyra and roll out for 50 miles with another group. Then back to HQ for a delicious lunch (and beer) before heading back out for another half-century. Back to HQ for a delicious chef-prepared meal and wine. And beer.
Saturday morning we roll out with the other group, back to HQ for lunch then we part ways and head South to Illinois.
Illinois to Indiana on Sunday.
Indiana straight back (via the Lakefront) to Brookfield on Monday.
We’ll be riding through 3 states this year, and rolling over 500 odometer digits by Monday evening.
This is an awesome time, something that once people experience gets locked into their calendars for infinity. And there’s beer.
Anyone is welcome. (Anyone that can ride 4 successive Centuries.)
164 days until the 2013 edition of the Windy 500 rolls…
This year, we’ve added a new twist: those in the know will know.
Why should you ride your bike 500 miles in 4 days? Here are 9 reasons:
This is what you’ll see. Every day. For miles and miles and miles…All that riding will make you hungry and thirsty. So you’ll eat. And you’ll drink. As much as you can.You’ll experience quality time with your friends while you learn the fine art of bicycle maintenance.You’ll sip from the finest wells in America. We called this one “Fart Water”.You’ll learn new languages and/or how to make PBR soup with your thighs.Not enough Tequila in this town to make that woman pretty. But enough to make Jeremy wander around aimlessly for a few hours…Deluxe Super 8 accommodationsFriends, bike maintenance, blue skies, blah, blah, blah…In the end, it’s really about the people and the ride.
Alrighty, due to the awesome power of the World Wide Interwebs, the Networking Ride blog looks like a malware site now:
The site is fine, no malware, but some 35-year-old douche-bag that lives in his parent’s basement is probably chuckling all over his Cheetos about this. I’m just a caveman, so I haven’t figured out how to fix it yet.
Anyway, I thought I’d at least post a wrap-up for the last Networking ride here, before I forget.
We rolled last week, and there were 8 of us out in the unseasonably warm weather. If you ask me what the forecast will be for the second Wednesday of any month I can honestly tell you that it will be spectacular. This is the start of the 5th year of this ride, and I believe we were snowed out on one occasion, and rained on a time or 2. That’s a pretty great track record for 48 consecutive rides in every month of the year in Wisconsin!
…happy to NOT be sitting at my desk right nowAaron Schindler gettin’ after it on 26″ wheelsDo these tights make my butt look fat??
Be there on February 13th for a special Valentine’s Day Eve ride! There will be bikes and beer!
If you’re down with it, you know the time and place.
So, about 2 weeks ago, Blake asked me when we would be going to watch the “Halloween Race”. Each of the past few years, he and I have gone down to Washington Park and watched Halloween Cross. Just 2 guys hanging out doing guy stuff, no Moms or sisters. Kids need to be 10 years old to actually compete in the sanctioned races, but I had forgotten about the “Kids’ Race”. I looked online and sure enough; any kid, any age, any bike. Once I told Blake about it, it was all over. I think he asked me when the race was every 5 minutes for 2 weeks. He couldn’t wait to wear his jersey (an XS that fits him like a dress), and his batting/catching/cycling gloves and get his race on.
On race day it was pretty cold, so I gave him a skullcap to wear under his helmet, which he has worn around the house every minute since then. He rode his sister’s old 24″ mountain bike with the seat all the way down, which makes him look a lot like Kermit the Frog on a bike. He lined up with the rest of the kids and took off. There were only 2 kids his age, most were younger on small bikes with training wheels. Blake didn’t care. He was there to race, and race he did!
At “GO” the kids took off, and it was ON! For the adults it was cute, comical and just a fun sideshow to the real racing. But to Blake, it was maybe more important than all the adults’ races that day. Blake came to race, and whether he got 1st, 2nd or last, he planned to give it his very best effort. It’s hard to remember just doing without thinking like that. As adults we have tire choices, training regimes, nutrition, hydration, competition, course, etc. Endless excuses and variables. Blake had a bike and a race. Start at the “Start”, finish at the “Finish”. Get a medal.
He’s already planning his next races. Blake DID get his medal that day. So did every other kid – identical to his – except Blake’s is a first place medal. I think he slept with it on for 2 days.
When’s the last time something meant so much to you that you slept with it?
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.
As the bells of the clock tolled out 5:45 the Four Spokesmen of the Apocalypse assembled to embark on the journey those men 1,000 years from today will still not be able to speak of. We all knew as we left our huts that morning, and turned to bid our families what could be our final farewells, that we may never come back. And if we were fortunate enough to return, we would be nothing but the hollow shell of what we once were. This would be the epic journey of a lifetime, it would tear the very souls of lesser men from their bodies and it would be the ultimate test of our collective humanity.
We rolled silently from the Hollander, each man trying to process what lay ahead: the hors catégorie Col de Hillcrest – the highest mountain pass in Wauwatosa. Would an early snowfall block our safe passage? Would we be forced to wait out the storm in a makeshift bivouac for months on end as the subzero winds tore the flesh from our weakened corpus?
The southern approach from La Calle de State was desolate, barren and eerily quiet. Thankfully, the ice storms had held off, if only for this very moment. We summited, and stopped to collect our thoughts. The oxygen was dangerously thin; we all instinctively knew to keep our movements limited to those of absolute necessity. Moments passed and then, wiping away tears, we descended. The cold wind tore at our very cells, exposing our frailness to the elements. A quick right turn, and then another and another. One complete circumnavigation became another like an endless, dizzying dream. When we could take no more, one man emerged from the shadows. It was Sir Leach. His heart heavy and his steed weary, he turned away and heaved his rig into the shadows, plunging into the blackness like a demon possessed… disappearing in an instant. Only God knows what he encountered when he faced down death’s ugly breath on that solo junket, but when he returned he was a changed man.
Once again, we rolled away together in the silence – each man contemplating his own fortune. From there, the route took us North to a small village. It was there, after travelling 34,056 feet without a single moment’s rest, that the journey came to its abrupt end. We dismounted at the quarters of the local demitasserie, Señorita S’Bux. She welcomed us in, and prepared for us hot mead and scones. There was so much to say – would anyone believe in our accomplishments? How would the world process what we had done on that fateful day? Will Oakley kick Lance’s sorry ass to the curb? Only history can accurately document the saga that was “the 6 mile coffee ride.”
Ye Olde Mappe of the Journey of One Thousand Lifetimes
I cranked up my training this year, made it through ToAD and the Windy 500, and then… nothing.
I have another Century to ride tomorrow, will probably do it on my track bike for fun, but I have no desire to finish out the WORS series or even do my first CX race. The funny thing is, I don’t care. And, I don’t care that I don’t care. 4,000 miles of riding/training and I’m ready to just ride my bike because I enjoy it. What a revelation.
I think it really sank in on the 4th day of the Windy 500, our 4th day in a row of 120+ miles. Thanks to my friend Mark calling me out, I finally realized that was still training. This is a ride that I dreamed up, specifically to get out and ride for fun with friends, and after 3 days I was still dropping people. Friends. Who were just riding for the sake of riding. Although they weren’t saying it out loud, I know they were thinking: “…what a dick!“. Of course, I was oblivious to the whole thing – too concerned about the next Strava KOM, or how many more miles we could go without a rest stop.
It seems that September is always the time of year that I get tired of “training”. Maybe it’s because I’m not training toward anything, I’m training away from stuff. My biggest goal of 2012 was to be a “super-domestique” at ToAD. Mission accomplished. I moved up to singlespeed Comp at WORS, but I was so focused on ToAD that all I want to do this year is ride road bikes. At first I was bummed, but then I realized… who cares? Bikes are bikes. Riding is riding.
In years past, I don’t think I ever “got it”. I don’t think I ever made the connection. There’s riding and there’s training, and you CAN have it both ways. As I mentioned to another friend of mine, I was a late bloomer. I’ve always ridden bikes, but I was never competitive until a couple of years ago. So maybe I don’t have that history of being fast or racing to fall back on, I’m still building my resume. Maybe that’s why I feel like I can’t let off the gas sometimes. And maybe that’s why some people might think “…what a dick!”.
All I can say is: I’m sorry. I get it now. I get the “Crappy Bike Ride” and I get how Ronsta can crush it at WORS and then go out and do social rides in Waukesha with the same level of enjoyment. I get how Russell can race track and commute to work on a 3 speed with a giant basket on the front and not see the difference.
I’m not the fastest guy out there, but I try really hard. Maybe it’s time to be the slowest guy out there for a change.
If the USADA gets its way, Lance Armstrong will eventually be stripped of his seven Tour de France titles from 1999 to 2005.His titles officially go to the riders who finished second in those races.
But the problem is many of the cyclists who runner-up to Armstrong have been convicted or accused of doping over the last decade.
In his seven titles, five different riders finished second to Lance — Alex Zulle, Jan Ullrich (3x), Joseba Beloki, Andreas Kloden, and Ivan Basso.
Zulle admitted to doping as part of the 1998 Festina Affair — the first big cycling doping scandal. But when he finished second to Armstrong in 1999, he had already confessed to doping and Armstrong called him a “clean rider.”
Kloden was connected with a 2006 doping program in Freiburg, Germany. He eventually paid a €25,000 fine — which technically isn’t an admission of guilt in German court. Yesterday, fittingly enough, the German National Anti-Doping Agency announced a preliminary investigation into Kloden and a few other riders on new doping suspicions.
Basso was also banned for two years in 2007 and 2008. According to the New York Times, he admitted that he “attempted doping,” but denied he ever actually succeeded.
Beloki has not been connected to any doping scandal.
This isn’t to say that what Armstrong allegedly did is okay. But the idea that stripping him of his titles will instantly reflect the “fair” result of those races isn’t quite that simple.
You will wonder why you signed up for this stupid thing by the end of Day 1.
You will eat Mexican food. A lot.
You may break a spoke. Or 2.
Your beer to all other liquids consumed ratio will be roughly 1:1.
You will most likely flat. Maybe more than once.
It will be as hot as Hades on at least 1 day.
You’ll tell your friends about the adventure for years to come.
You may be asked to drink tequila out of a handgun.
Someone will get stung by something. It might be you.
You will tell or listen to more stupid “butt” jokes than you have in your whole life.
It will rain so hard you will consider building an Ark on at least 1 day.
You will be yelled at by Mark Lampe.
On Day 5, you will actually miss riding your bike, but have no desire to sit on it. At all.
You may start craving bad gas station food when the ride is over.
You will see some of the best scenery Wisconsin has to offer.
You will start planning for next year’s ride at the end of Day 4.
How about a few memorable quotes:
“This water tastes like a fart”
“Ask your Mom what a pervert is…”
“Don’t lean your bike on my truck…”
“Hey! Whoa! Wrong bed!!”
Maybe pictures are the best way to tell the story:
Left to right: Jeremy Christopherson, Jeremy Thorpe, Jeremy Kayzar, Jeremy Balden, Jeremy McArdle, Jeremy Grosz and Jeremy Lampe. Photo by Jeremy SukkertMcArdle enjoying a daily flat tire sandwich while simultaneously ruining the ride.“Technically” not a flat…“Definitely” a flat.Balden’s ass… Day 1Balden’s ass… Day 4One of our favorite activities was taking time to pull over to stop and smell the flowers each day.How every day ended…How every day started…Rule #2 fulfilledNotice anything unusual in this picture?? Yep, Balden is SITTING on his bike in the background!We did about 17,000 feet of climbing. Here’s a little bump that was about 3 miles long:We only asked the prettiest, cleanest Meth hookers with the best teeth and fewest open sores on their face to take our picture!Best surface for walking a mile in Shimano cleats? A mile of wet rocks!We did actually manage to ride our bikes for 506 miles over the weekend.Come ON McArdle!! Just WALK from here!!
2013 Windy 500 planning starts today! It will be bigger and badder than ever.
The 2012 Tour of America’s Dairyland has finally come and gone. I was fortunate enough to be able to race all but the last day of the series this year, 9 days in a row. I am still a Cat 4 on the road, since most of my racing experience has been on dirt (where I am a Cat 2). My road experience before ToAD was a grand total of 10 races over the past 3 years, and 3 of those were this year.
Overall, ToAD was a success for me. I am definitely a better rider now.
Here are a few things I’ve realized:
I can race for 9+ days in a row. Not every day will be my best day though. I started the series strong, faded a bit in the middle and came back even stronger at the end. I found myself wishing that I could have raced a few more days to see my best efforts. Prior to ToAD I had only raced 2 days in a row once.
Staying hydrated cannot be overstated. I am very conscious of this, so in addition to the recommended daily allowance of beer I added Pedialyte. Gatorade, and most cycling specific sports drinks are too sweet and/or “chemically” and tend to give me a stomach ache. I used plain Pedialyte before and during the Bone Ride this year, and it really helped. So I made sure to down a bottle every evening at home during ToAD.
Eating enough calories cannot be overstated. Like most cyclists, my motor’s always running. I tend to eat something about every 3 hours just about every day. Also, like most cyclists, I try to eat pretty “clean” – good food, high in protein and complex carbs. Halfway through the week I realized that I was eating like I normally do, not like I was racing every day. That night I came home and ate a whole pizza, then went to Kopp’s and ate a chicken sandwich, onion rings and a chocolate shake. The next day, I was twice as strong as the day before. I did go back to eating clean that day too, but filling the void of negative calories the day before seemed to help tremendously.
Warming up on a trainer is awesome. I have always warmed up on the road before races. Such a simple thing, but I will always do it this way now. It allowed for a structured warm-up, and it was cool to talk a little last-minute strategy with teammates before we launched. Plus, I had access to anything I needed.
Crit racing is a science and an art. Like golf, a lot of guys buy expensive equipment thinking it will make them better. It doesn’t. The best crit racers are smart, patient, tactical and smooth riders. They have the ability to ride unnoticed until the last lap or 2, then be in the perfect position to sprint to the line. They could probably do it on a Schwinn Varsity and still kick most people’s ass.
Speaking of ass, there are a few guys in every category that believe we are out there to fight to the death and defend the honor of our dead grandfathers – at all costs. I took a bad line early in one of the races. It was partially due to excitement and partially my lack of experience. For the next 2 laps, everyone within 50 yards of Speedy McJagoff had to hear him drop F bombs about my bad line, etc., etc. etc. Really? I hope his paycheck from Team Douchebag doesn’t bounce. I’m still learning, and anyone around me would have realized that it was a mistake on my part, one that I did not repeat. I even tried to ride up next to the guy and apologize, but he wouldn’t shut up, so I didn’t.
Speedy McJagoff was never on the podium. Enough said.
I was not riding for myself, I was riding to put my teammate on the podium. I have never played team sports in my life. I have always gravitated toward things that were a test of myself against the clock, or someone else. I have never had a “role” to play in sport. WORS races are all about going as fast as you can, by yourself (at my level anyway) until you cross the line. Hopefully you win, or at least don’t cough up your spleen when you’re done. I have a whole new level of respect for the no-name guys going off the front in the Tour, or the guys blowing themselves up with 5K to go to get the lead out man into position.
Crashing and getting back into the race is instinctual. I flipped into the barriers around a corner in the Waukesha race, and I was back on my bike and pedaling before I realized it. Thankfully, it was a minor crash. My shin caught the corner of a metal barrier and it took a nice bite out of it, the only bad thing was that there was not enough skin left to stitch up. The allure of racing is the adrenaline rush, and I got a double dose that day. I have crashed in mountain bike races, once bad enough to require a trip to the ER, but I never realized how fast my body automatically puts me back on the bike.
The only thing cooler than going 40 miles per hour on a city street with hundreds of people watching using only your own body for power is going 41 miles per hour on a city street with hundreds of people watching using only your own body for power.
For the past week or so, almost every one of my non-cycling friends has asked me about the latest allegations surrounding Lance Armstrong. The conversation goes like this:
Non-Cycling Friend: “So… what do you think about Lance Armstrong??”
Me: “I don’t.”
NCF: “But do you think he doped?”
Me: “Honestly, I don’t think about it.”
The End.
Thankfully, none of my cyclist friends have even talked about it. Why? I don’t think anyone really cares one way or the other. Plus, I think deep down inside, 99.99% of people with access to most of the details firmly believe that he is guilty or innocent – I really don’t think there are any “undecideds”.
Like anyone my age, I have watched Lance’s rise to super-stardom from early on. But as an avid American cyclist, I was a passenger on the Armstrong bandwagon since the early days too. I wanted a red, white and blue hero to rise up and kick some Euro ass. Do I think his achievements are extraordinary? Absolutely. Do I think he is a dick? Absolutely. I think that the vast majority of people who dominate any particular thing – politics, sport, etc. have to have tremendous egos. People with tremendous egos are usually not too concerned with anyone else. Does any of that matter to me? Absolutely not. I don’t call my buddy Lance up and have a beer with him after work on Fridays. I’ve been in the same room with him on several occasions and ridden along side of him in a charity ride twice for about 5 seconds (along with a thousand other people). That’s it. Nothing that Lance Armstrong does, or will ever do, will affect my life one way or the other. Many people point to the fact that Lance Armstrong never failed a drug test. I can also say that Tour de France and Giro d’Italia winner Marco Pantani died alone in a hotel room after bingeing on cocaine for a week straight – something he routinely did even while racing and passing drug tests. Armstrong has already spent a lot of money to prove his innocence, and I can also assume that both Nike and LA STILL have a lot of money in the bank…
In the end, who gives a rat’s ass? What difference does it make to you and me? If LA doped, he doped. If he’s clean, he’s clean.
Saturday’s Trek 100 weather was near perfect; high 70’s at the rollout, with temps topping out at over 90 by mid-afternoon. I lined up with the Team Wisconsin/KS Energy crew toward the front and we rolled out. For whatever reason the pace ratcheted up almost immediately. Maybe it was the impending heat, the fact that I heard a few people say they wanted to get it done in under 4:30, or maybe it was just the mix of guys on the front. Whatever it was, we took off like we were fired from a cannon. My plan to ride a nice, casual century with friends was ancient history.
Not just fast… Mustache Fast!
Within a few miles, we were rolling along at 26 – 27mph and the group was stringing out like crazy. We skipped the first rest stop, with plans to stop for bottle refills at stop #3. As we came up on stop #2, a bunch of guys slowed and called out that they were stopping. I ran over to the bathroom to dehydrate a bit, just in time to see everyone change their mind and roll out. I quickly refilled a bottle, grabbed a sandwich and jumped into the next group I found. We were only 25 miles or so in, but that gave me a chance to eat a little, and recover from the initial effort. Once I was done, I moved up to the front and then bridged up to the first group, only to repeat the same exact scenario 2 stops later. This time I wasn’t too worried about the chase, but I should have been. The group stopped for less than a minute, then hit the road like a steamroller. I chased by myself, hill after hill after windy hill. The only thing worse than the wind was the fact that I got close enough to the group to read jerseys, and I couldn’t seem to close the gap. We rolled along at the same exact pace – the group smoothly taking turns fighting that wind, and me – legs churning like a blender, spit flying, and heart beating in my throat. Finally, I was able to maintain a bit of speed on a climb, and I caught back on. After that, the pace seemed to stabilize, and everyone was working well together.
In the last 15 miles or so the heat was starting to become more and more noticeable. The wind was relentless, and the hills seemed to be multiplying with each passing minute. Riders were starting to succumb to the sun and the speed, and the front group seemed to get smaller at the top of every hill. For a regular guy like me, riding at the front with guys like Tom Schuler and Gary Fisher for 100 miles seems almost unreal. I think we rolled across the line just after noon – with no one line at the free beer tent!
Hurry, the beer’s getting warm!
Success!
The best part was that once all the donations are in, we will have raised over $20,000 this year for the MACC Fund.
It actually started with dinner at Tutto on Tuesday evening. Jim Mellin and the AXA pro team graciously invited a bunch of us out for drinks, food and smack talking the night before the ride. It was great listening to a brief history of the ride from Tom Schuler – almost as good as the calamari and Guinness. Unfortunately as we were getting ready to leave one of the riders came back in to tell us that Tom Winkel’s van had been burgalarized. 1 smashed window and 1 missing laptop, which had been hidden behind a rear seat. Definitely a buzzkill, and Tom was unable to make the ride the next day having to stay back and get everything taken care of. Selfishly, I was bummed, since Tom would have been pulling the whole way…
The morning of, Chris McArdle, Dave Dineen and I met at John’s in Tosa for a little carbo loading and then rolled to Schuler’s.
The Full Monty Crew – photo courtesy of Marty Vander Velde
A few brief notes by the Master of Ceremonies and we were off.
Schuler gives the rollout instructions – photo courtesy of Marty Vander Velde
50 degree morning temps quickly gave way to 75 and sunny and the roll to Madison was easy like Sunday morning…
Burritos and the standard Yellow Jersey picture in Madison, and then back on the road.
Local legends: Yellow Jersey. Otto Wenz. Andy. Ronsta…
About 5 miles out of Madison it was go time. 2 groups went off the front and after not giving it an ounce of rational thought, I chased. I bridged to the second group just in time for them to slow down. Waste of effort #1. Go time again, I bridged up and this time brought Rudy with me. Waste of effort #2. Rudy thanked me for the pull and disappeared into the pack. I had just enough gas in the tank to hang at the back before my brain started firing again and asked me what the Hell I was doing with 60 miles still left to ride.
I dropped back and drifted in no man’s land for a while until the next group caught me. We worked together for a while, but guys were dropping like flies. The heat, the miles and the dehydration were starting to work their magic. Just then, like a prayer answered, the Mt. Borah Sprinter van appeared and John Grisa, Dave Dineen and I jumped behind it for a little motorpacing. At some point, Dave and John dropped and I stayed on for a few free miles at 30 mph. The super draft allowed me to recover a bit, but made the South East wind seem 10x worse when I got out on my own. I ended up rolling the last 20-25 miles back to Tosa by myself.
Already looking forward to next year! Could 2013 be the year of the fixie ride??
2012 – 1,519 miles, 2 road races and the first WORS race: DONE.
Mountain bike racing is hard. Iola was hard, and not fun. I have done many rides and races that were really hard, but afterward I always felt good – a sense of accomplishment. Iola was just hard. When it was over, I was glad to be done. My crappiest time ever, I probably wouldn’t even have made the Citizen podium. Even worse, it was my debut in “Singlespeed Open” (Comp). I’ve really been digging riding on the road for the past year, and I was considering skipping Iola and driving to LaCrosse for the Omnium. Probably should have gone with that plan. I’ve run a 32:16 for the past 3 years at Iola, same this year. With all the peanut butter mud, that was a bad plan, but I got to the race too late to change it. Mentally, I was never in this one. I hadn’t realized how much I’ve been spinning a smaller gear this off-season and not working on power. I’m really stoked to race ToAD this year, and Iola really didn’t help fire me up for WORS. I race the Whitnall Spring Classic Crit in April and did the Masters 4/5 and Masters 3/4 back to back. It was hard, but fun. When I finished, I was stoked and looking forward to doing another road race. Bump and Jump was way harder.
The 69er is sitting in my garage, still packed with mud. I can’t even get motivated to clean it.
It’s been quite a while since I posted anything here. Not much to say really – get up, ride, go to work, repeat. This morning was no different. Having spent the entire weekend banking my landscaping points, I was itching to get out for a ride before work today. I left my house just before 6:00am – lights blasting.
I was crushed on my motorcycle 12 years ago, so now I have a hyper-awareness of cars at stop signs turning into traffic. Coming into Pewaukee I spotted a Jetta at a stop sign on my right, about to turn left onto the road I was on. I turned and looked right at the driver, and my helmet-mounted light shined right in his face. Then he pulled out in front of me.
Had I been on my track bike, like I have usually been these past mornings, there’s no way I could have stopped in time. Thankfully I was on my road bike. I yelled, hit the brakes and swerved and the driver did the same. We both stopped just in time, and I rolled within about 6 inches of his bumper.
Comically, he yelled out his window at me. I was the guy with the right of way, riding the white line on the road with front and rear lights. But somehow it was my fault that he rolled a stop sign and didn’t look for traffic.
Things definitely could have gone very wrong, but they didn’t. A few minutes later my heart rate was back to “slightly elevated” instead of red-lined and I was enjoying a peaceful ride. I went out around the Lake, saw some deer, climbed some hills, screamed down some others and rode back home – full of peace and serenity.
Details are still sketchy, but we have at least 100% more riders, AND a support vehicle!! Having a sag wagon will make this a legit contender. I would not be surprised if both the Schleck brothers and Cadel sign on for 2013.
Lunch of Cham-peens!
Now the planning begins. Where are we going?? Last year, we set some informal route guidelines in stone:
Round-trip route must be a minimum of 500 miles over 4 days.
Route must cross at least 1 state line.
Do we go back to the UP? If so, do we make the same stops, or head to a different destination? Do we go West (Waterloo, IA? Rochester, MN?) South (Saugatuck, MI? Danville, IL?) Straight through the Earth’s core (Beijing, China?) Which route do we take? Who’s in charge of the map this year (NOT me)?
Dinner of Cham-peens!
You don’t even have to be a participant to take place in the planning. We welcome all input! Just show up at:
...Faster than Last 