Cranksgiving

October is tomorrow. September was a bit of a blur.

And Cranksgiving looms. This is our third year of Cranksgiving, and to be honest, I wasn't feeling it until a couple of days ago. With all of the stuff that's gone down in the last seven months, I'd really just like to get back to basics: family, work, ride. No more.

But then I thought about the event, and its impact to those who benefited from it last year. And after that, there's no choice — Cranksgiving has to happen.

Information is up, enthusiasm is renewed. We're set for November 14 at noon at Bike Masters.

In the meantime, if you want to donate or volunteer, or if you need more info, send me a note.

Time to go check more items off the list for today.

--

Oh, the car. Forgot about that. We got it all ironed out, and Chris drove her new (used) Toyota Rav4 to work today. In the end, we didn't get as low as we wanted on the price, but the dealership didn't get what they wanted, either.

After an 11th-hour clusterfook in the finance office, we got it ironed out. Like I said, it wasn't exactly what we wanted, but nobody (including the dealer) gets everything they want all the time.

Art of the deal

In the past seven months or so, I've learned a few things. It's mostly about bikes, which is awesome, but also about selling bikes. I'm good at selling bikes ... and shoes, and clothing and helmet. Had I known that earlier, I might have done something about it.

Anyway, when you know how to sell stuff, other salesmen pick up on that. For example, Chris is ready for a new(er) car. So I started looking at cars last week. Here's how the conversations went:

"So, what do you do for a living?"

I'm the sales supervisor at the Trek Store.

"Oh? (pause) Hey, what's one of those race bikes going for, like Lance's?"

$9,000, maybe $10,000.

"Really? Wow." (followed by a long pause where the salesman realizes, "hey, wait. that's like a car. he knows how to sell things like cars.")

And then, suddenly, several layers of BS get stripped away. It was somewhat refreshing.

So today, Chris and I are going to go all salesman v. salesman and come home with something new. Or, rather, the plan is to come home with something new. If it doesn't work out, we do hold the trump card: we can leave.

It's going to be a fun day/night. Put on the coffee.

My wife is right

Normally, I like to think of myself as a man for all seasons. I see great qualities in all of them - and I love the swings in weather. Maybe it's ADD, but I like all of the changes.

Chris, however, loves fall. Loves it. She's been mentioning that pretty much daily for a week or two.

And as I stepped outside this morning to get the newspaper - 47 degrees, breezy - I thought, "Yeah, fall is pretty awesome."

I like putting on arm warmers at the start of a ride and them peeling them off mid-morning. I like adding a cycling cap under my helmet. I like warming up with coffee in the morning.

Most of all, fall feels like new hope to me. The air is crisp and clean. There's a lull at the end of racing season and before the start of next season, and it's a nice time to relax.

Plus, sooner or later, the lawn is going to stop growing.

I've had worse

I went for a run yesterday morning, just to see if I could. Also, I didn't feel like riding.

Considering my current fitness (not horrible) but also the long gap since I last ran (many, many months), I planned on only two miles. It actually took me a long time to get out the door, because I couldn't find half of the stuff I needed ... like shoes.

Anyway, once I tracked a pair down, I made a slow getaway down the street. After walking lightly and coddling my back for months, it seemed strange to try to run. It took a good mile before really loosening up and relaxing.

I still ended up going at a pretty good clip, but it wasn't easy. I had to pull myself out of protection mode a few times, reminding the body to relax and just get on with it.

Downhills are the worst, since there's more weight striking your heels -- and therefore radiating up your legs and back. Uphills, actually, are pretty nice. I like them a lot, actually.

And today, when I expected real, horrible pain, it wasn't bad. I'm sore, sure, but I was gone for less than 20 minutes. It couldn't be too bad. Most importantly, my back feels pretty good.

I'll hopefully get out for another run tomorrow. And then Sunday hopefully a little bit of a ride, while covering the Omaha Marathon for the newspaper.

Man, there's a lot of hope going around here, huh?

GamJams Reviews: Arm/knee warmers

Of all of the various bits of kit I've amassed over the past four years, the most valuable and versatile are arm warmers and knee warmers.

For me, because I have the amazing warming properties of ... some ... sort of creature that stays warm easily, arm warmers are in play from the mid-50s to the low 30s. I have the Giordana Roubaix arm warmers in white. And despite warnings from Munson and a couple of rainy races, they're still pretty white.

The arm warmers are pretty long, first off. Coverage goes from the wrist up to my armpit, plus they're pretty tight. They don't fall down or otherwise annoy like my previous ones (I'm looking at you, Nike).

The material is Giordana's Roubaix fleece, which is basically the same as the fleecy stuff from everybody else. That fabric, plus the tightness of the warmer, makes it a winner. Competitive Cyclist still has some, but only in black.

On the knees, I have a pair of beaten-up and abused Pearl Izumi Thermafleece knee warmers. I got them in 2006 about two days before a fall century ride that promised chilly temps. Since then, I've worn them down into the 20s with no problem and layered them under thermal bib tights for the really, really cold days.

But they're showing their miles. The elastic is pulling itself out and manifesting in the form of little white dots all over the front. They're pretty loose around the knee, at least compared to what they're supposed to be.

Really, I've probably pushed them way past their intended life. Rather than break out the tights if it's below 35, I go with knee warmers for another seven or eight degrees. Since I get warm and stay warm pretty easily, tights are overkill unless it's really, really cold. And legwarmers ... just wear tights if you want coverage from your upper thighs to your shoes.

At some point in the next week or two, I'll probably pick out some new ones for this winter. I do have an entire bike shop's worth of product at my disposal, so I think I'll be OK.

These are the things I worry about

One time, at an indoor trainer gathering at Bike Masters, Brady looked down at my legs and remarked at their hairiness. I believe "wookie sticks" was the term, actually.

In my defense, it was probably the middle of January. Who worries about crashing and road rash in the middle of winter? Don't answer that.

Non-existent road-rash concerns aside, there's a simple reason for not shaving in the winter. I'm cheap. Some call it thrifty (probably the same people who say things like "wookie sticks"), but I'm cool with cheap.

And because I'm cheap, I've stuck with the same disposable razor cartridges for the last, oh, 15 years or so. Gillette Sensor. Two blades. Cheap. That blade is also compatible with head razor I use, so all of my wookie-type needs are solved by one bulk purchase.

Yesterday presented a problem. When I rolled up to the bath/hygiene/jumbo pallet of ibuprofen section at Costco, I noted the absence of the giant package of Sensor blades.

Must be on the other side then, right? No. Only 12-packs of deodorant. Damn.

My options were as follows: A 50-pack of disposable razors, that Fusion razor that has about 16 blades (40 bucks for 20 cartridges) or the Gillette Mach 3, which was slightly cheaper.

Great for the face and legs, but that won't work with my head razor.

After stewing about it for a bit -- remember, I've used the same razor for 15 years -- I went with the Mach 3. But then I had to go to Wal-Mart and buy some Sensor blades for the head razor. And they were a bit expensive, even though they're cheap.

So, since I'm cheap, I'm going to make that package of Sensor blades last forever. No more carving inspirational messages into my chest hair.

Leg shaving will commence as normal. I simply can't take that kind of ribbing.

The reset button

OK, so I survived the state road race. Whew. That was the culmination of a month of grinding and dragging my bones out of bed way too early to get on the trainer.

But now the race is done and we're into what traditionally would be called "transition" or "taking a rest because you've been grinding yourself down for months and months and months."

That's how it is for those who have actually been doing things, at least. What about me? What do I do? Ride more, because I can? Ride less, because my back is still a little jacked up? (By the way, for a good portion of that 72 miles on Saturday, it felt like someone hit me across the back with a baseball bat. Ow.)

I have no idea.

But here's what I think I should do: Chill for a few days (no problem there) and then start running. Usually in the fall, I run. I like running still. I'm just not sure I actually can run. My back will determine that one.

And if I can't run, I guess I'll just rack up the aimless miles on the bike. No, I'm not swimming. No. Don't ask. No.

But in November, probably after Cranksgiving (which, yes, I'm working on), I'll be back to the purposeful miles. Maybe even on a new bike or two. I'm kind of excited.

In a way, I guess I'm lucky

Three months ago tonight, I was in the hospital with a back that could be described as "not structurally sound." I was just a couple of weeks away from peak form, and knowing my legs were going to waste was a little tough.

Of course, it could have been worse.

And though I'm pretty good on a bike, I'm not great. And my ego isn't attached to how fast I am. That's pretty good, too.

Because today, though it was great to get back into the peloton, I got my ass handed to me. Bad.

Luckily, I didn't really expect anything less. No matter how many good days or bad days you have on the bike, you always forget how much it hurts. So when I lined up for the Nebraska State Championship race this morning, I thought I had a chance -- even an outside one -- of hanging with the pack.

Of course, I didn't. A guy who breaks his back and takes two months off doesn't get it back in a month. Not after working hard all winter to achieve form to begin with.

The mind doesn't remember that part. The mind remembers the last good day, which might have hurt a bit, but it underestimates the coming pain.

And you don't realize that miscalculation until it hits you. And then it's, "Oh ... yeah. That's it. Shit."

Just a few seconds later, if you're not equipped to handle that pain, you won't have to worry about it. Because the peloton is gone. And it's a long way to the finish.

I got unhitched on the second lap and then got scooped up by the Cat. 4s. But I couldn't actually sit on the back of that pack (thanks, Cat. 4 official). Even though I was in very, very last place. So I rode about 15 feet behind that pack for another 40-some miles.

And then I was on my own. Even though last place is regarded as the worst result possible, a DNF is worse. So there was really no question about doing all 72 miles, no matter how long it took.

I probably could have done without the broom wagon right on my ass the whole way. That was a new experience. But I kept the tempo high and did what I could. I still rode 72 miles in 3:19. That's not exactly slow.

It just wasn't fast enough.

So why do it to begin with? Because I work well with motivation. And getting thumped by guys who I should be riding with is good motivation.

And when I got home, Chris and Jack were waiting for me -- even though I got my ass kicked.

See? Lucky.

Oh -- and congrats to the Big Puma for capping his Cat. 4 rider of the year season with a state championship. Well done, sir.

Remind me how this goes

While pondering the things I ponder in the morning after Jack goes to daycare ("I wonder if I should have another bowl of cereal?"), I realized that I have done zero planning for tomorrow's race.

Other than a bike and wheels, that's pretty much it. No idea where all of the clothes are, or whether or not I have any clean socks. And what about food? I need to get some Clif Shot Bloks today.

In short, being away from racing for 3.5 months has made me blissfully ignorant of the little details of race day. I'm sure it'll all get rounded up tonight in a fit of "holy crap, I don't have anything ready."

Regardless of when stuff gets thrown in the car (tomorrow, 6:30 a.m. is the most likely time), I'm excited to get back to it. See you in the morning.

GamJams Review: Cool-weather socks - wool

When it gets chilly, the first bits to go are my feet. Actually, of all of the ways to stay warm, I've never really gotten the feet figured out. I have shoe covers, I have wool. They still get cold.

Anyway ... socks. For cool weather, say, 55 and below, I go with a thin wool sock. Often it's a SockGuy model by Twin Six. I do have a pair of Sugoi Wallaroo socks that offers a little more height. They're a little bit thinner than the T6 socks, but they're mostly merino wool, which is a little warmer.

Both of those models are often the go-to socks when shoe covers come out, too. They're thin enough to not add a bunch of bulk to the foot, thereby making sure there's actually circulation.

Of course, at some point you just have to wear thicker socks. I have DeFeet's Woolie Boolie for those occasions, along with a thicker Sugoi whose name escapes me.

Despite a pretty solid group of socks, I'll probably check these out at some point this fall. Part of my job at the store is checking in and displaying new merchandise. Those socks seemed pretty nice. Plus, Munson has some. How could I go wrong?

Crushed

Here I am at the Tour of Missouri, aboard a cheap Pinarello frame that's several sizes too small. The challenge was to drill it enough to get some rigged-up Bissell vacuum-cleaner thing to push some meter above a predetermined line.

I really just wanted the free Bissell cycling cap -- always good to have more -- but I thought I'd really try to pin it. After all, the dude in the white T-shirt (upper left corner) cranked out a 22 ... whatever that means. You get a free hat at 15 and a vacuum at 25.

Surely I, a semi-trained Cat. 3 racer could best that 22, right?

Ah, no. Not close.

That greasy dude in the white T-shirt dominated me. I cranked out merely a 17.5. Big Puma did a 19something.

But hey, I got a free hat. I'll take wins wherever they come.

I hope that dude in the white T-shirt isn't there on Saturday, though.

Dig out the argyle

When I got the OK, officially, to get back on the bike about a month ago, I knew what was ahead.

It was going to hurt a lot. And it was going to be slow going. And frustrating at times. And it was all of those.

At first, it was mostly base miles. One hour, then two, then three. And one four-hour slog. Then I mixed in some high-intensity stuff in the form of group rides, which were humbling. With a bike switch, courtesy of a generous, trusting teammate (thanks again, Dave), I really got comfortable and semi-fast again.

Early this morning I hopped on the trainer for a good flogging, just to see if I could actually do a workout from earlier this spring.

I can. I did.

So ... Saturday. The state road race. I'll be the one lining up for the Cat. 1/2/3 race. Look for the argyle socks. They're back.

Oh -- wide berth on the corners, please.

The view from the curb

Despite the thrill of seeing a sporting event live, in person, amid the throng, most sports are actually better on TV.

A football game from the cheap seats? Pass. I'll stay home and watch it in HD. No bathroom line, either. And the beer is better. Same for baseball. I do love going to the park, but everything's better at home.

Much of the same can be said for cycling, too. Even in a circuit race or crit, you don't see much of the race in person. And a point-to-point stage? TV is always better.

But the part of cycling you don't get to experience on TV is before and after the race. Though cycling is huge around the world, it's still small in certain aspects.

We went to Stage 7 of the Tour of Missouri in Kansas City yesterday, and it nailed this point home. The race was awesome, the crowds large and enthusiastic. And when it was done, we headed toward the team buses and trailers.

On the way, I shook Dave Zabriskie's hand -- he had just won the week-long race. I said, "hi" to Levi Leipheimer. Thor Hushovd kind of blew me off. Jens Voigt is funny as hell. And Floyd Landis was kind and gracious to everybody who wanted a picture or an autograph.

And that's what's great about cycling. You can get right there -- right up close and actually meet these guys. We left with bottles, product samples, team gear ... all free.

The only downer is the prospect of the Tour of Missouri going away. The state had a three-year deal to fund the Tour, and that deal is done. Let's hope somebody steps up to bring it back next year.

It'd be a shame to lose an event so close to home that showcases Pro Tour talent. Plus, I'm going to be out of Sport Beans by then. I'm going to need more.

GamJams Reviews: Coffee

A funny thing happens when you break your back and spend a day or four in the hospital: people start sending you things. Brady brought me Blizzards and then mowed my lawn, and I got a nice little package from my friends at Uni Watch.

But one day, I got a big, heavy box from 53x11 Coffee, courtesy of Mike at GamJams. And when I say big, I mean five pounds of ground coffee. (The Early Break, if you're interested.) Brady got some, JP got some, and I got the rest. Seriously, there's at least a pound left.

And when it's all gone -- maybe by October? -- I'd be tempted to order more. It's good. I tend to brew my coffee a bit stiff, and with the Early Break there's a lot of flavor to begin with. The only real problem is finding a place to store it. Five pounds is a crap-ton of coffee.

Short of ordering more 53x11, there are other alternatives. I really like Pears coffee, which is roasted locally and available at Hy-Vee and Wal Mart. It's $8 a pound, which is really pretty reasonable.

But since we started cutting back on expenses, I've been going with Costco coffee. Yeah ... it doesn't really carry the same cachet, does it? But the beans are roasted by Starbucks to a "Starbucks roast," so it actually doesn't taste too bad. And at $14 for a three-pound bag, that's not too bad, either.

Of course, I haven't mentioned the ultimate weapon in all of this: the espresso machine at work. It's every bit as awesome as it sounds.

Another review: On last week's Wednesday-night ride, I got absolutely throttled. Off the back early, struggled the rest of the way. It was ugly, demoralizing and no fun at all.

Last night I got throttled, too, but I managed to hold onto the lead group. I was strong on the hills -- longer ones, not short, punchy ones -- and was able to hold a steady, hard tempo.

That has a little to do with my fitness improving, but also the bike. I have generous teammates. For the next couple of weeks or so, I'm on a Felt F1 with full Dura-Ace 7800. It's a bit of an improvement from the Bianchi.

Yet another review: The entire Beatles catalog was reissued yesterday. All of the albums are remastered and sound amazing. Go get them -- or at least one of them -- right now.

A day off. Really.

I don't work at the shop on Wednesdays. It's not a personal decision, that's just how the schedule works. So Wednesdays, after Jack goes to daycare, are when I get a lot of stuff done.

But today, with a writing project completed over the weekend and only little chores to do, I've found myself with a mostly free day. Over the past few months, I've been busy pretty much all the time.

I have no idea what to do today.

I have a shortlist of ideas (things like Cranksgiving), but nothing really concrete. In fact, my mind is spinning with all of the things I could do.

Most likely, I'll end up with a can of Wild Cherry Pepsi and a game or seven of baseball on PlayStation.

Yeah, actually. That seems about right. I'd better get to work.

Familiarity

It's been almost a month since I cleared myself to ride again. Up until recently, the results were very mixed. A good day was followed by a week's worth of bad; muscles flaring up and aggrivating, robbing me of seated power.

And even when my legs did feel good, my cardiovascular system was red-lined trying to keep up.

In short, it's been a pretty painful month.

But yesterday, finally, I felt reasonably normal. HR stayed up and steady, rather than up and spiked. I had decent climbing power, both seated and standing. And I would imagine I probably would have done better on a lighter, stiffer bike.

Short of that, though, I'm feeling good. Back to back three-hour rides this weekend helped. This next week will say a lot as the end of the season looms.

Chasing it

For the better part of a year, the Wednesday night Bike Masters ride has been my fitness test of sort. It's a good way to sort out the form. It's always painful, but there's a difference between good pain and bad pain.

This past Wednesday was bad pain. Bad, bad pain.

As cyclists -- or runners, or any other competitive athlete -- we embrace pain as a means of getting better. Suffering, and the subsequent recovery period, give rise to improvement. Yes, it hurts. Of course it hurts. But the end result feels good.

But that's good pain. Bad pain is when you know you're in trouble early. When you have to stand up and put it all into the pedals to stay in contact. And even then, it's not good enough.

Bad pain is burying yourself to stay in the group, muscles screaming, power waning. And then, suddenly, you're alone. Unhitched. Off the back.

That's bad pain. You're so far above the red line there's no hope of settling in and stamping out a good tempo. The group is gone. It's over.

But here's the good thing about Wednesdays -- there are lots of them on the calendar.

GamJams Reviews: New Favorites

Partly as a result of my crash-and-burn season, and partly as a result of my new(ish) ability to get bike stuff on the cheap, I've replaced a lot of cycling gear this season. Most notable are the bits at the top and bottom of the kit -- the Bell Volt helmet and Shimano R300 shoes.

I'm really, really impressed with both of them.

Let's start with the lid. After turning myself into a bloody mess in April, I needed a new helmet. So I went with the Giro Ionos. It fit better than my deceased Giro Atmos. And for the most part, it was OK. I liked the ventilation, but not necessarily the look.

I found a crack in it, right along a seam, a couple of weeks ago. So I'm now in the Bell Volt, as worn here by Jens Voigt. (Why a picture of Jens? Why not?)

First off, the retention system -- Bell's dial-fit thing -- is better than Giro's. Second, it's not as wide as the Ionos, which works better for me. I really enjoy the fit around my forehead, which is enhanced by a nice, snug inner sizing ring. In short, great helmet.

The shoes, which I've mentioned before, are still oustanding. I like them more every day. The custom fit option takes some getting used to, since it results in a shoe that wraps very closely around your fit. There's support where you're not used to having any.

But once you do get used to that different feel, they're like tailor-made slippers. And that makes sense, really, since they're pro-level shoes. The new version -- the R310 -- is out now, so the R300 is getting scarce. I know there are big leaps in technology to the new ones, but the old ones look better.

Either way, should you snag a pair of Shimano custom-fit shoes, be sure to let them cure for 24 hours before riding in them. The thermoplastics need to set to be able to retain the fit.

Hopefully next year at this time, my GamJams review can highlight a new bike. Or maybe two.

Excitable boy

OK, so I'm doing the Bike Masters ride tonight. Haven't been out in two weeks, when fitness was very, very poor and my legs were worse. My HR was above threshold the entire time. Ow.

Since then, I've lost a pound or two, ridden lots and -- hopefully -- pulled back a bit of strength and high-end fitness.

Also, I've been riding a very heavy bike. That has to count for something, right?

And so, with a mountain of tasks ahead of me before the ride (vacuum, cook, write, walk the dogs, etc.), I'm finding myself all twitchy. I'm ready to go ride. Like, now. Even on the heavy bike.

I guess this is the benefit of a couple of months off. It's September and I'm still psyched for the bike.

Six months adrift

Give or take a few days, it's been six months since I was escorted out of the building.

There were tears, worries and hasty overreactions (holy crap! cancel every single subscription or extraneous expense!). And, a few days later, a plan.

It started a bit slow, but things picked up a little more every week. And though I work a little more than I did before -- and I ride a bit less -- the plan is working. I work full-time at a bike shop, which is awesome, and I'm writing on the side. As my own boss, I can accept or turn down writing assignments as I please.

And we're actually almost back to where we were before. Sure, we're a little lower on savings (hospital stays do that), and we do have a little bit of catch-up to play, but the plan is working.

And after all of the crap that's gone down this year, good news is gold.