Tipping point

As much fun as I've had with Mark's transformation from ... ummm ... heavy guy ... to Skinny Mark Savery, I gotta say I'm pretty proud of him. The changes he's made have been pretty amazing, and he has few bigger fans than me.

Basically, he reached a tipping point and decided to make a change. Maybe it was getting on the bike and feeling like crap. Maybe it was a long-term goal. Maybe it was me calling him a fatass fairly regularly. Regardless, he hit that point and jumped in. The same goes for Mike and Jeremy and Ryan, too. Time for change.

I hit my own tipping point yesterday. I'm not afraid to say I've been coasting along since blasting my hip in June. I missed the next handful of races, and then the season was over, just like that.
So, really, why bother?

I'm healthy and feeling fast and able to ride hard tempo for as long as I want, but I'm not really doing that much. I am, however, eating like I'm doing a lot. And with my bike gone, that activity level is going to drop.

I plan on running through the fall, just like I do every year. But I wasn't going to start until Friday. Thanks to jumping on the scale yesterday, I went out today. I'm getting a jump on this thing.

The number: 165. Gotta nip that in the bud. No way I'm letting Mark stay within 10 pounds of me.

So I went on a run. Day one.

Well, that was fun

Looking forward to the next one.

I remember this part

Trek has a dealer website called Dexter, on which you can look up product info, place orders, research bike specs, read service manuals, design bikes and manage warranties and stuff. Pretty cool.

You can also check on orders and shipments and the statuses of both. That's both good and bad, of course. Good for managing a business. Bad for checking on the status of a new bike. Because my bike has a status now, and with a relatively short lead time (23 days) I can pretty much guarantee I'm going to check it constantly for the next 23 days.

Sigh.

All of this, despite the fact that it's pretty much the same as what I have now, just with a shinier paint job and lighter wheels.

If anything, I should be more excited about Chris' build. I'm still waiting for the drivetrain, but after that, it'll be quick. But no, it's all about me ... which I guess explains this blog.

Meanwhile, I wait. Three days until I'm bikeless (for anything longer than 30 minutes, at least). Where are my running shoes?

The good stuff

How many times have you heard this: "Omaha just isn't a good bike town."?

I hear it almost every day, from customers and would-be avid cyclists who think around every corner there's an F-250 or a distracted soccer mom in an Escalade ready to mow them down. Of course, that's absolutely true, depending upon the road or street you choose.

But guess what? There are hundreds of other roads on which you'll see nary a soul. Those are the good ones. Those are the ones that see more bike traffic on a weekend morning than car traffic.

We have most everything a cyclist could ask for within 20 miles of Omaha. Long, wide-open flats, leg-crushing climbs, rolling, protected hills. The only thing we're missing are long, steady climbs. (We do have a few that will do the trick, though — if you know where to find them.)

I've been on countless rides where someone has mentioned all of this. Inevitable comparisons to Lincoln, which seems so god-awful flat and boring by comparison. And to Kansas City or Des Moines.

Sunday, though, it was just me. On the isolated, winding, hilly and breathtaking roads of the Loess Hills in and around Council Bluffs, I was alone with my thoughts. I encountered maybe a dozen cars the entire time. All gave me a polite wave.

As I crested one hill after another, lungs burning, I couldn't help but think, "Man, this is awesome."

Friday discussion — Metrigear/Vector

Last year at Interbike everybody got all worked up over Vector, a pedal-based power meter that was supposed to change the game and make power easy to use, easy to move between bikes and easier to analyze.

And then ... a year of silence.

This year at Interbike, everybody's still all worked up over Vector, but only because Garmin bought Metrigear, the company that was developing it.

I said last year that Vector would be cool if it ever actually made it to market. Still waiting. It'll still be cool if it ever makes it to market. The Garmin acquisition makes it more likely, but keep in mind we haven't seen pricing or availability figures AT ALL. No "shipping in late spring" or anything. Just "we're dedicated to bringing this to the market."

My stance: You'll see this no earlier than June 2012, if at all. Keep holding out hope, though.

Your stance: Click comments and get cracking.

I lead a fairly boring life

Get up.
Write.
Get Jack up (or try to put him back to bed when he gets up too early)
Write more (maybe).
Ride. (Or work.)
Work. (Or ride.)
Sleep.

The riding isn't particularly noteworthy — I'm in full-on base miles mode. I just want miles and miles in the legs. I'm delaying the return to running, mostly because I know what my body feels like during the first week of running. It's fairly unpleasant, so I'm not doing it until I'm left without a bike on which to train. So, like, next week then.

Honestly, the most exciting thing right now is building Chris' bike. Her Trek 1000 is out the door, and components are arriving piece by piece. Right now I'm just waiting for the guts of the drivetrain — shifters, rear derailleur, crank, cassette and chain. The Force front derailleur from my Felt will return to duty thanks to a very conveniently sized clamp salvaged from my orange Madone.

Once that stuff is in place, it's going to be a quick build and a pretty easy fit set up, too. Maybe it'll be entertaining enough to take my mind off running. Yeah, maybe not.

Final days

As summer winds down — today's the last day, actually — the end of my time with my Madone is also in its final days. On Oct. 1, it's onto the sales floor, carbon wheels, computer and all. It's a nice bike — nicer, even, than my original orange Madone.

So what's in store for next year? More of the same, really:

It's an SSL frame this time, but the same fit, same bar, same gruppo. I swapped the Aeolus 5.0 ACC wheels for the Dura-Ace C24 carbon tubeless wheels. I really missed having a nice, smooth, lightweight wheelset. The races in which I used the 5.0s could have just as easily been done on a lower-profile rim. And for the three TTs on the schedule, I'm fairly certain I can round up a pair of wheels.

I'm actually most pumped about the wheels and paint — probably because the rest of the bike is, indeed, the same. In person, the blue is a bit darker and the silver on the logos is a bit lighter. It was the one paint job that, up close, really wowed me in Madison. There are definitely some nice-looking schemes out there, but I thought this one was the winner.

It'll be here sometime soonish, hopefully. Last year I got one outdoor ride in before the snow fell. With standard paint, rather than the custom orange-white-black scheme of last year, it shouldn't be too long of a wait.

So that's that. I'm going to go ride the soon-to-be-departing model now.

Sunday

What's better than a 3-year-old who gets up at 6 a.m.?

Spending the entire day with him, alone, as he does his 3-year-old thing. "Why? What's that? How come? Why? Why? Why?"

Yup, that's Sunday. But it was a pretty awesome Sunday. Chris was out of town at a math conference (beautiful Kearney, Neb., by the way), so it was just Jack and I. Since Sunday is usually when I disappear on the bike for a few hours, I really wanted to get out and ride.

It was 50 and drizzling when Chris left around 8:30. Ugh. But I kitted up anyway (thanks, Capo vest), loaded Jack in the trailer and hit the road. He clearly got the better part of the deal: protected from wind, wetness and the general yuck of the day, surrounded with blankets and a toy or two. Also, he didn't have to pull a trailer.

I got a good 90 minutes in, and we hit Hy-Vee on the way back home to get groceries. It was a nice boost to our smugness quotient to pull up in a trailer while watching people troll the parking lot for parking spaces close to the door. Please, people. Get out and walk. It can only help you.

We followed all of that with a trip to the zoo. For a little guy, Jack did pretty well. He walked pretty much the whole time, which turned into a 2.5-hour visit. I let him choose the attractions, too: Desert Dome (to see the bats!), butterflies, giraffes, lemurs, gorillas and tigers. By the end, though, he sighed and said, "Daddy, I want to go home now."

This is the point where a nap probably would have helped. And he did sleep — he finally drifted off about five minutes from home. Follow that with lots of climbing and general horseplay (I wonder if he rough-houses that much with Chris?) and that kid was cooked.

How do you know we had a good day? When I turned out his light, I didn't hear a peep the rest of the night. Mission accomplished.

Here you go. Discuss.

My stance: This is one of the dumbest things I've ever seen, akin to building up a custom Serotta with zillion-dollar Edge wheels so you can ride it once a month for 12 miles and spend the rest of your hours staring at it or ordering new, dumb, super-bling parts for another bike that you'll never really ride.

Your stance: Go.

All she wrote

After last week's 'cross session, I was sore for days. I got up every morning, did my Frankenstein walk around the house and tried to get my back to loosen up.

It finally did ... on Sunday. Ugh. Uncool.

But I rode OK on Sunday, and again on Monday, and again on Tuesday. Wednesday dawned and I felt OK, if just a little tired. No big deal.

Last night's 'cross section was a little more intense, courtesy of more fast guys being present. That's a good thing, because I never get tired of chasing fast guys around. I actually took it a little bit easier in the first two-lap throwdown — my back didn't feel that great.

The second five-lap race is more my speed (read: slower and relies more upon endurance), and I got into a pretty solid position after the first lap. But then I noticed a little bit of a power drop on the second lap, and that aching feeling coming back.

That's also, of course, when I noticed the lightning rolling in. I ended up with three laps, I think. I pulled off and headed back to the shop, where just a few minutes later the skies opened up.

Twelve hours later, my back is sore. Really sore. I slept only OK. I'm Frankensteining all over the place. Thus ends the 'cross experiment of 2010 — at least the regular training part. I could probably jump in a race and do OK, but anything too prolonged is going to leave me sore for a few days.

I've learned a few things about my back over the past year — when it gets sore, stop doing things that don't allow it to heal. Right now, cyclocross is one of those things, which is too bad — I was having fun.

Project black

I may or may not have documented this before, but my wife has freak arms. Like, way long. They're longer than mine, even. I don't have super-long arms, but I'm just shy of 6-2. She's not quite 5-8.

Anyway, that creates bike-fit issues. Her torso is normal-sized, but those arms ... man. What works well is a slightly longer frame. Her old 54cm Trek WSD bike is just too short. So that's out (you can buy it for $500 if you're interested). It'll be replaced by this:

That's an older Trek XO-1. Again, a 54cm, but a bit longer. Also, yes — 'cross bike. She's been talking about wanting to ride on some gravel or maybe an off-road trail like Tranquility. But she still wants a road bike that fits.

That solution is pretty easy: throw a Rival build on there (compact crank, 11-28 cassette) and get to it. I have enough wheelsets to throw CX tires on one and road tires on the others.

About the only thing I'd upgrade would be the fork. It's the original aluminum one, but it's good enough for now. I'll get to that after it's built and Chris is ripping around.

And yes, I'm aware of the irony: I'm sort of getting into 'cross and it's Chris who gets the 'cross bike. I know. I know.

Yes, I do have a plan

Though I still need to do a consultation of sorts with someone smarter than me, I think I have the offseason/preseason figured out.

It's been an inconsistent year. Some pretty solid ups, but just as many downs and plenty of "meh." There have been tons of days where I've been neither fast or slow, just "there." Being "there," of course, isn't bad. It's just nothing to aspire to.

So ... the plan.

It goes like this: Ride lots, run when I don't have time to ride, and work, work, work on flexibility and core strength. Last week's 'cross practice helped revive one of the themes of the past 18 months: on the rivet and drilling it makes my back hurt. I need to fix that.

When I do crank up a specific training plan, it won't be until later — January or so, probably. I feel like last year I headed into November weak, out of shape and not ready for any sort of workload. I didn't make big gains until I had a ton of saddle time. And even then I didn't work on anything specifically — I was just trying to be whole again.

But now, with the exception of the occasional backache, I feel pretty good. I feel like when it's time to wind it up, I'll actually be able to work on things. Sprints, TT intervals, the whole smash. I'm rather looking forward to it.

In the meantime, I have two weeks left until the current bike goes away and hopefully not much longer after that until the new bike arrives. It'll be more of the same: Madone with Force. It's a combo that's hard to beat for the money.

That's my boy

Most three-year-old kids say some pretty funny stuff on a fairly regular basis. Much of it likely comes from their unique perspective on the world. And most of it makes pretty much no sense at all.

Jack's been figuring things out more and more, and he's starting to figure out how to be funny. That, in itself, is good news. I can't be the only one cracking jokes around here. Here's how it went down on Saturday night:

Since Chris is going to be out of town next weekend, I told Jack that it was just going to be us two, and we were going to play all day on Sunday.

"No, YOU'RE going to play all day."

Oh yeah? What are you going to do then?

"Sit around and drink coffee."

Zing.

Dinged up

I mentioned yesterday that my back was sore. Really, that's nothing terribly shocking — my back has been some sort of sore for more than a year now. But mostly it's a stiff, dull ache — and it's mostly manageable.

Sure, there are some things that make it worse — heavy lifting, for example — but I don't do too much of that.

One situation that makes it doubly worse, though: Heavy lifting (rebuilding part of a fence), followed by a 4-plus-hour ride, then a full-on night of cyclocross, having never done that before.

Ugh.

Then add to that the soreness from the effort itself — legs, various bruises — and I'm feeling positively old. It's been June since I've done an effort like that. The good news, of course, is that I was physically capable of an effort like that. It hurt probably a bit more than it should have, but them's the breaks when you're not really training for anything.

And now, it's time for ibuprofen and stretching. Maybe some Geritol, too. Damn.

Living to tell the story

When trying something new, it's always good to come home wanting more. Also, it's good to come with all of your bones intact, along with your pride.

And if those are the criteria, consider 'cross practice a win.

When I rolled down to the course, I was happy to see Mark was there, wearing in a new line or two for the night's action. Watching him go through things at a lower speed was invaluable, since it helped me get a look at both technique and the right lines.

I knew I was going to be OK when we came around a corner and saw a barrier right ahead. Rather than think "oh, crap — here it is," I just jumped off, hopped over and got going again. Simple as that. We did a few more laps and rolled up to get the group.

Once we got rolling with the "race" portion of things, the group separated pretty quickly, mostly because Mark blasted away like he was on a frickin' motorcycle. Holy crap. I was doing my best to kind of stay out of the way on the first go-round, but ... wow. Anyway, I ended up third in the two-lap throwdown behind Mark and Randy.

After that, it was a five-lap go-round. Mark, of course, started the same. I think he might be on drugs. We hit the grass in a nice little paceline. I was fourth wheel, behind Mark, Randy and Mike. Well, I was until I slid out on the sketch-ball corner. Basically, the front wheel slid out to the right.

No big deal, though — I hopped back on, re-passed the guys who were right behind me and got back to chasing again. I was able to make up a lot of ground on both the run-up and the wide-open spots.

Toward the end of the lap, I was almost in contact with the three guys who I hadn't caught yet (outside of Mark and Randy, of course) when I clipped a barrier and knocked it down. Bummer, but I had to set it back up for the guys behind me. That's only fair.

After that, it was more chasing. I did finally catch Mike, but I couldn't get past him until the run-up. And by then, it was the last lap, anyway.

Impressions: It's pretty much exactly like a cross-country running race. Rolling hills, wide-open stretches, some steep bits. After three-quarters of the race is done, it's tough to keep turning it over on the climbs, and you come to a near stand-still at the top before ripping down the other side.

Aftermath: My back hurts. I'm sure a little of it is from the aggressive nature of the activity. But I've also learned that "chase mode" equals "sore back mode." You're tucked lower, pushing harder, really stressing the body. That makes my back hurt.

So the options are these: don't get stuck in chase mode or strengthen my back. I'm going to work on both over the winter.

And that's that. Cyclocross. Lawn racing. Whatever you want to call it. It's a nice change of pace. Thanks for being nice to me out there, boys. I may be back.

The load-out

Most days when I head to work, it's a pretty simple process: bring food.

Today, though, there's a bit more to it. Food is on the list, of course.

But so are the following: shoes (x2), kit (x2), bikes (x2), bottles (x2), probably some more food, too.

Through the generosity of Chris Wolff (who needs to start a blog), I have a cyclocross bike in the garage. It's coming to the shop today, and then it's going to go to Mark's 'cross practice this evening — and I'll even be on it!

The Madone is coming, too. It's getting on that time of year — I have only three weeks left with it before it heads out to the sales floor. A potential buyer is going to take it for a spin today, making it a pretty quick sell if he likes it.

And then I'll be bikeless, if only for a few weeks. After that ... well, I have a few ideas on what I'd like to do for next year. Of course, that's all dependent upon me not killing myself on the 'cross bike.

So ... yeah. That could go either way, huh?

Fruits of Labor

Maybe it's the weather, or maybe it's the long weekend, but projects tend to get done around here on Labor Day weekend.

We've ripped out carpet, laid some tile and painted. Add "repaired a fence" to the list now, too. That was the Sunday/Monday project in these parts. And, because I'm old and weak, I'm sore and tired.

The triceps hurt from jamming a post-hole digger into the clay that makes up all but the uppermost layer of our backyard. And my back hurts from, well, everything. I need to work on that more over the winter.

But the worst part is the allergies. I spent a good portion of both days outside, breathing in high doses of weed pollen. Despite repeated saline rinses and the usual battery of allergy pills, I'm in rough shape. Swollen, itchy eyes, runny nose ... I'm all in.

I might get out for a ride at some point today, anyway. There's this 'cross bike in my garage that keeps bugging me for a ride. Who am I to deny it?

Now taking applications

I looked up at the calendar yesterday and was kind of startled by what I saw. September 1. Yikes.

And then I looked at the calendar for the rest of the fall. Double yikes. Between work, GamJams Midwest, writing, attempting to be a good husband/dad, projects around the house and riding, there aren't a lot of free hours.

That's when I remembered the biggest consumer of free hours: Cranksgiving. Oh, Cranksgiving. You're a reasonably important part of the Omaha Food Bank's fall efforts, you're beloved by many, you're a ton of fun.

You stress me out.

I was on the fence about Cranksgiving last year, but after some thought I dove in. And it was the best one yet. I have no doubts that this year's edition -- it'll be the fourth one, by the way -- will be bigger and better than the others. So yes, Cranksgiving is going to happen. I needs to happen, for the people who don't have the good fortune that we do.

But I need help. I'm too busy to make it happen by myself. I'll still do a good amount of the work -- and it's not hard work, just time-consuming work -- but I need assistance. Or assistants. Whatever.

Here are the non-negotiables:

• It's on November 13 at noon.
  
• It's at Bike Masters.
• There's going to be a race and food afterward.
• There's going to be a fund drive, too.
  

That's pretty much it. Sound like your cup 'o tea? Send me a note or leave a comment. Adding a person or two to the roster would make a very big difference.

Sometimes you do dumb stuff

I mentioned Monday that after a four-day sale weekend, I was pretty well cooked. I got a couple of good nights' sleep heading into yesterday, so I thought it'd be a good day to go for a nice, long ride.

But unfortunately, because I suffer from a debilitating brain disorder, I can't make it just a nice, long ride. You know, 18mph cruising speed, relaxing, steady?

Instead, I ended up with a 3.5-hour ride, which in itself is plenty nice. But in the middle was an hour-long block of sub-threshold hammering. Why?

I'm going to blame the triathlete.

Coming out of the general Lake Zorinsky area (no Hammers spotted, thank god), I felt loose and ready to open it up a bit. Coming around the corner from an adjacent road was a dude on a tri bike. I waved, he didn't. Whatever.

Farther down the road, I noticed he had turned onto the same road and was gaining on me. OK, fair enough. And then when I turned again, he was still behind me. Huh. So I picked it up a bit, thinking I'd make him work for it. As I went up and over the top of a couple of rollers, he disappeared.

But then we were back on the flat by Two Rivers, and there he was, pulling closer again. So I opened it up again and cruised just shy of 30mph for a bit (I had a nice tailwind). And then I turned, and he followed me. And then I turned again, and he followed me. And then ... you get the picture. Two or three more turns. What the hell?

That in itself is a little weird, but that combined with that previously mentioned brain disorder -- and my desire to stay the hell away from triathletes on bikes -- created an hour of pain.

And when it was all done and he was no longer there, I settled down a bit, filled the bottles and moved on. Along the way, I didn't notice that it was getting pretty hot. And even though I was drinking plenty and keeping the energy topped off, that took its toll.

About the time I noticed it was pretty hot was also when I noticed I was doing 14mph.

Boom. Roasted.

The first 50 miles took 2.5 hours. The last 15 took 50 minutes. As soon as I got home, I set about getting cooled off quickly. A really cold shower gave way to quick refueling and then a quick feeling of "uh oh, I think I'm gonna throw up."

Luckily, I survived. It was still a nice ride. I just don't remember much of the last hour or so.