The third phase of base training has come to an end. Much like in years past, I'm fairly cooked. Long slogs, workouts that make the legs heavy and lethargic, cold, damp rides ... yeah, I've had enough.
I glanced ahead to next week just to see what was coming. 90-second climbs, higher HR zones, etc. That'll be fun. Maybe.
Basically, it's time to start sharpening the sword a little bit. I can ride steady stuff all day, but when things get ramped up a little bit, I'm limited. The next month or so will steadily improve that high-end fitness.
Hopefully, by the time the Twin Bing Classic rolls around on April 10, I'm not a complete embarrassment to the team. The goals are simple this time around: Don't get dropped in the first five minutes of the race.
How's that for modest aspirations?
Really, though, I feel pretty solid. I can tell my back needs an easy week and some mild stretching. And my legs are feeling pretty slow right now. Par for the course, though.
If I feel that way after a rest week, though? Ouch.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
Another link gone
I've been thinking about death lately. Not my own or anything, just death in general.
It's a little more specific than that, I guess. Over the past 18 months or so we've experienced a handful of fairly significant passings. Chris' grandpa died in December 2009. The neighbor who looked after my brother and I when we were young died over the summer. On Sunday, LaRue Weaver, who ran the skating rink in Algona, died after struggling with a number of issues over the past few years.
Each of them, of course, was much more important than their title implies. A grandfather, a surrogate grandmother and, really, a fill-in grandfather.
In the case of Chris' grandfather, a trusted resource and co-conspirator was gone.
In the case of our neighbor, Margaret, some of my earliest childhood memories. We were there before and after school for years. As Chris and I are learning right now, the person who provides care during the day for your child has a tremendous influence. Margaret was kind and loving, but she always kept us on course.
By and large, I've been gone from Algona for about 15 years now. We visit a few times a year, of course, but being removed from a situation tends to blur some of the finer details of certain situations. But as I had time to think about things on the drive back yesterday, the extent of the influence LaRue had on not only my life but that of my parents was hard to really grasp.
My dad worked for LaRue at the skating rink (Jolly Time Skating Rink was the official name) in his late-/post-high school years (again, fuzzy knowledge of that timeline) and jumped in to help on and off throughout my childhood. Up until 1989, when the rink was sold as LaRue and his wife, Alberta, retired, we were there every Friday or Saturday night (sometimes both), and sometimes on Sunday afternoon. A book of my childhood couldn't exist without a chapter or two on the skating rink.
Like LaRue's grandsons, I was a rink rat. The oldest, Keith, was my age. In later years we played baseball together, wandered around town and listened to 8-tracks in his dad's old Chevy pickup. He taught me how to drive a stick shift.
Despite all of my time at the rink, I very, very rarely beat any of the three in the nightly races. On any given night, I was the fastest one there - with the exception of them. As LaRue went out to start the race - two laps - he'd eye all four of us and start us a half-lap behind. It rarely mattered. We occupied the top four spots at the finish anyway.
We knew every spot on the maple-planked floor. We knew which flipper on the pinball machine shot the ball back just a little bit harder. We had our own spot under the counter for our skates. As we got a little bit older, we served as floor marshalls sometimes. A couple of 10-year-olds patrolling the floor with whistles and flashlights? Ha! But we knew what was expected of us. LaRue made sure of it.
Through all of that, I was just a kid having fun. I wasn't paying attention to the deeper story.
My grandpa - my dad's dad - died a few days after I was born in 1977. Before that, his battles with alcoholism strained his relationship with my dad, as those battles tend to do. But LaRue was there, offering advice and guidance. I never wondered why I had my own shelf for my skates. I never wondered why, in the large garden LaRue planted out back, my parents had a little plot set aside - just like LaRue's kids. I just thought they were really good friends. It never occurred to me that LaRue was like a father to my dad. And that, by extension, I was like a grandson.
But as we joined the family before the service yesterday, it hit me. We always stopped by LaRue and Alberta's house when we went trick-or-treating. We very frequently exchanged Christmas gifts. In fact, probably my oldest Christmas ornament came from them. I hang it every year. When the roving gang of rink rats caused trouble on a random Friday night, I was treated exactly the same as the others.
Each time we returned, though, he greeted us warmly. Also each time we returned: We never paid to get in. Alberta always waved us through. There was a buzzer on the door, and as soon as we walked up to the window she said, "Hi there," and hit the buzzer. My dad always gave us money to pay. It was never accepted.
I've only now realized why.
So I've been thinking about death. And how the passing of people you care about forces you to think about them and their legacy. Often, the end result has a tinge of regret - for not further exploring the relationship, for not showing your appreciation, for not taking time to just visit.
The last time I talked to LaRue was about five years ago. We were in town for the weekend with our bikes. It was a spring day and I was out on a ride with my dad. We stopped by, unannounced, like we had hundreds of times before.
We talked bikes, LaRue's latest project(s) (Before the skating rink he was a jet mechanic. Afterward he fixed up an old Mustang and set about scaring the crap out of anybody who rode with him.), and daily happenings in general.
At the end, he slapped me on the back and told me how good it was to see me; how happy he was that I stopped by. And to be sure to stop by again next time I was around.
I wish I would have understood the weight behind those words sooner.
It's a little more specific than that, I guess. Over the past 18 months or so we've experienced a handful of fairly significant passings. Chris' grandpa died in December 2009. The neighbor who looked after my brother and I when we were young died over the summer. On Sunday, LaRue Weaver, who ran the skating rink in Algona, died after struggling with a number of issues over the past few years.
Each of them, of course, was much more important than their title implies. A grandfather, a surrogate grandmother and, really, a fill-in grandfather.
In the case of Chris' grandfather, a trusted resource and co-conspirator was gone.
In the case of our neighbor, Margaret, some of my earliest childhood memories. We were there before and after school for years. As Chris and I are learning right now, the person who provides care during the day for your child has a tremendous influence. Margaret was kind and loving, but she always kept us on course.
By and large, I've been gone from Algona for about 15 years now. We visit a few times a year, of course, but being removed from a situation tends to blur some of the finer details of certain situations. But as I had time to think about things on the drive back yesterday, the extent of the influence LaRue had on not only my life but that of my parents was hard to really grasp.
My dad worked for LaRue at the skating rink (Jolly Time Skating Rink was the official name) in his late-/post-high school years (again, fuzzy knowledge of that timeline) and jumped in to help on and off throughout my childhood. Up until 1989, when the rink was sold as LaRue and his wife, Alberta, retired, we were there every Friday or Saturday night (sometimes both), and sometimes on Sunday afternoon. A book of my childhood couldn't exist without a chapter or two on the skating rink.
Like LaRue's grandsons, I was a rink rat. The oldest, Keith, was my age. In later years we played baseball together, wandered around town and listened to 8-tracks in his dad's old Chevy pickup. He taught me how to drive a stick shift.
Despite all of my time at the rink, I very, very rarely beat any of the three in the nightly races. On any given night, I was the fastest one there - with the exception of them. As LaRue went out to start the race - two laps - he'd eye all four of us and start us a half-lap behind. It rarely mattered. We occupied the top four spots at the finish anyway.
We knew every spot on the maple-planked floor. We knew which flipper on the pinball machine shot the ball back just a little bit harder. We had our own spot under the counter for our skates. As we got a little bit older, we served as floor marshalls sometimes. A couple of 10-year-olds patrolling the floor with whistles and flashlights? Ha! But we knew what was expected of us. LaRue made sure of it.
Through all of that, I was just a kid having fun. I wasn't paying attention to the deeper story.
My grandpa - my dad's dad - died a few days after I was born in 1977. Before that, his battles with alcoholism strained his relationship with my dad, as those battles tend to do. But LaRue was there, offering advice and guidance. I never wondered why I had my own shelf for my skates. I never wondered why, in the large garden LaRue planted out back, my parents had a little plot set aside - just like LaRue's kids. I just thought they were really good friends. It never occurred to me that LaRue was like a father to my dad. And that, by extension, I was like a grandson.
But as we joined the family before the service yesterday, it hit me. We always stopped by LaRue and Alberta's house when we went trick-or-treating. We very frequently exchanged Christmas gifts. In fact, probably my oldest Christmas ornament came from them. I hang it every year. When the roving gang of rink rats caused trouble on a random Friday night, I was treated exactly the same as the others.
Each time we returned, though, he greeted us warmly. Also each time we returned: We never paid to get in. Alberta always waved us through. There was a buzzer on the door, and as soon as we walked up to the window she said, "Hi there," and hit the buzzer. My dad always gave us money to pay. It was never accepted.
I've only now realized why.
So I've been thinking about death. And how the passing of people you care about forces you to think about them and their legacy. Often, the end result has a tinge of regret - for not further exploring the relationship, for not showing your appreciation, for not taking time to just visit.
The last time I talked to LaRue was about five years ago. We were in town for the weekend with our bikes. It was a spring day and I was out on a ride with my dad. We stopped by, unannounced, like we had hundreds of times before.
We talked bikes, LaRue's latest project(s) (Before the skating rink he was a jet mechanic. Afterward he fixed up an old Mustang and set about scaring the crap out of anybody who rode with him.), and daily happenings in general.
At the end, he slapped me on the back and told me how good it was to see me; how happy he was that I stopped by. And to be sure to stop by again next time I was around.
I wish I would have understood the weight behind those words sooner.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Money in the bank
As promised, I took pictures. It was another beautiful day to be on a bike. The wind picked up a little bit toward the end, but it wasn't really a big deal. Most importantly, I got my work in and my back didn't hurt (and doesn't now). That's a win.Part of that could be from the bike. The SSL came back out to play yesterday. It's even better than I remembered. I ran the road tubeless pressure at 90psi, which smoothed out those less-than-stellar Douglas and Washington County roads. The overall ride quality is ... well, it's awesome. I love that bike.
If there's a downside, though, it's the legs. The combined effects of the previous two weeks are starting to stack up. There's not a whole lot of snap in the legs right now, and there were a couple of stretches where I thought my back brake was rubbing. Turns out I'm just shy of cooked.Anyway, I have two for-real workouts left in this three-week work block, and then it's on to a rest week. I love the first day of a rest week: "OK, I have to get kitted up and then ... wait. No I don't. Yes!"
Until then, though, there's still a little more work to do.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Big day
The sun is shining, the wind is calm, the roads are dry.
Also, it's 15 degrees.
It'll warm up in a bit ... I hope. And when it does, the SSL is rolling down the driveway and back out into the world. It's been cooped up inside since that freaky December day that started with 60-some degree temps and sunshine and ended with snow.
After spending the fall on this bike, going back to something heavier and softer and slower was a complete drag. I have no doubt it made me stronger, since the old bike weighs a ton, but it wasn't fun to ride.
Today's ride will be fun. I may even take pictures.
Also, it's 15 degrees.
It'll warm up in a bit ... I hope. And when it does, the SSL is rolling down the driveway and back out into the world. It's been cooped up inside since that freaky December day that started with 60-some degree temps and sunshine and ended with snow.
After spending the fall on this bike, going back to something heavier and softer and slower was a complete drag. I have no doubt it made me stronger, since the old bike weighs a ton, but it wasn't fun to ride.
Today's ride will be fun. I may even take pictures.
Monday, February 21, 2011
A familiar feeling
Last winter, when the roads were finally clear, I emerged and found myself powerless and in near-constant pain. Being a few months past a broken back will do that, I guess.
Regardless, I finally hit my stride in early May and started riding semi-respectably after that.
I spent the late summer, all fall and all winter trying to avoid that situation this time around. The issue partially lies in the difference between turning the cranks on the trainer (low back strain) versus turning the cranks and steering and fighting wind and such on the road (more back strain). Also, my blue Madone (trainer bike) fits better than my orange one (outside bike).
On Saturday, perhaps due to a high concentration of two factors — lots of road miles on Orange Crush and lots of running around in the store — my back started squawking. Ugh.
Sunday dawned with no back pain, though, so I got my miles in. Toward the end there was a little bit of tightness, but I was able to keep things steady and smooth. No real power loss. Score one for me.
(Side note: Mad Alchemy Mellow embrocation did the trick on Sunday. Mid-40s, damp and cold. No knee warmers, no worries.)
But after I cleaned up and started running around on the floor at the shop, my back flared up again. Ibuprofen, heat, stretching ... and here I am, pain free again.
Last year, once I got the transition from inside to outside out of the way, all was good. If I can get that done right now, it would be helpful. And the sooner I can get the blue Madone out, the better. I had no back pain all fall while riding that thing.
Now, to work on the transition from "slow winter at the shop" to "this place is completely insane."
Regardless, I finally hit my stride in early May and started riding semi-respectably after that.
I spent the late summer, all fall and all winter trying to avoid that situation this time around. The issue partially lies in the difference between turning the cranks on the trainer (low back strain) versus turning the cranks and steering and fighting wind and such on the road (more back strain). Also, my blue Madone (trainer bike) fits better than my orange one (outside bike).
On Saturday, perhaps due to a high concentration of two factors — lots of road miles on Orange Crush and lots of running around in the store — my back started squawking. Ugh.
Sunday dawned with no back pain, though, so I got my miles in. Toward the end there was a little bit of tightness, but I was able to keep things steady and smooth. No real power loss. Score one for me.
(Side note: Mad Alchemy Mellow embrocation did the trick on Sunday. Mid-40s, damp and cold. No knee warmers, no worries.)
But after I cleaned up and started running around on the floor at the shop, my back flared up again. Ibuprofen, heat, stretching ... and here I am, pain free again.
Last year, once I got the transition from inside to outside out of the way, all was good. If I can get that done right now, it would be helpful. And the sooner I can get the blue Madone out, the better. I had no back pain all fall while riding that thing.
Now, to work on the transition from "slow winter at the shop" to "this place is completely insane."
Friday, February 18, 2011
Under the gun
By now, I know the Trek Store routine. Big Sale at the end of February, Super Sale at the end of March, and then insanity until Labor Day.
It's a pretty simple formula, really.
But despite the fact that I have a big calendar on the wall in the office, despite my phone's email inbox blinking at me almost constantly, the Big Sale has crept up on me. It starts today. We're almost — almost — ready for it.
The first time it hits 50, Omaha goes crazy. Last weekend saw the door counts spike, as people who'd been hibernating all winter poked their heads outside and took a sniff. It's been the same story all week. That's a good thing, of course, because that means we were busy.
The downside is that we were so busy we couldn't prepare for the sale day-by-day. It happens sometimes. I spent Monday re-tagging bikes, Wednesday writing sale tags and cleaning, Thursday updating prices and cleaning, and this morning will be moving things around and ... cleaning. That probably could have been done in one day, if not for the bit about having customers.
Why so much cleaning? In the middle of all of this sale preparation and nice-weather traffic surges, we're remodeling the back part of the store. Dust, paint, etc.
It's going to be fine, of course. It always is. But before it's fine, there's going to be a lot of coffee and maybe a little bit of last-minute stress.
After that, it's just bikes. That's the part I like best.
It's a pretty simple formula, really.
But despite the fact that I have a big calendar on the wall in the office, despite my phone's email inbox blinking at me almost constantly, the Big Sale has crept up on me. It starts today. We're almost — almost — ready for it.
The first time it hits 50, Omaha goes crazy. Last weekend saw the door counts spike, as people who'd been hibernating all winter poked their heads outside and took a sniff. It's been the same story all week. That's a good thing, of course, because that means we were busy.
The downside is that we were so busy we couldn't prepare for the sale day-by-day. It happens sometimes. I spent Monday re-tagging bikes, Wednesday writing sale tags and cleaning, Thursday updating prices and cleaning, and this morning will be moving things around and ... cleaning. That probably could have been done in one day, if not for the bit about having customers.
Why so much cleaning? In the middle of all of this sale preparation and nice-weather traffic surges, we're remodeling the back part of the store. Dust, paint, etc.
It's going to be fine, of course. It always is. But before it's fine, there's going to be a lot of coffee and maybe a little bit of last-minute stress.
After that, it's just bikes. That's the part I like best.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
I should take pictures sometime
I always mean to take pictures while I'm riding. Not to show off or anything - most of you have been on the same roads a zillion times - but because it's so nice out there. And pretty. You know, like spring?
But looking at the calendar, it's a false spring. It will most certainly get crappy again soon, if only for a week or so. And then it'll be real spring. In the meantime, though, I'm getting in as many miles as I can.
Sunday was 3:30 and change.
Monday was 2 more.
Tuesday was another 3.
Today ended up being 2, as well.
Lots of hours in four days. Even though today was pretty chill, I got the sprints in that were on my plan. Thanks to my co-workers for playing along. Fun fact: they didn't know they were playing along.
Tomorrow, thankfully, is a rest day. My legs are heavy and slow. And my back is a little bit kinked from fighting the wind. Yoga and stretching always irons it out, though, so I'm not too worried about it.
Time to work.
But looking at the calendar, it's a false spring. It will most certainly get crappy again soon, if only for a week or so. And then it'll be real spring. In the meantime, though, I'm getting in as many miles as I can.
Sunday was 3:30 and change.
Monday was 2 more.
Tuesday was another 3.
Today ended up being 2, as well.
Lots of hours in four days. Even though today was pretty chill, I got the sprints in that were on my plan. Thanks to my co-workers for playing along. Fun fact: they didn't know they were playing along.
Tomorrow, thankfully, is a rest day. My legs are heavy and slow. And my back is a little bit kinked from fighting the wind. Yoga and stretching always irons it out, though, so I'm not too worried about it.
Time to work.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
First two/last two
Day by day, the snow is melting. The brown, matted grass remains as a promise of another spring soon to ... uh, spring.
Though the snow is fast disappearing, the snowmelt remains in the form of wet roads, morning ice and a generally messy state of affairs. Of course, the preceding description is limited to the in-town streets. Once out of town, the roads are clear, dry and clean.
I've been riding Orange Crush over the past few days, clad in fenders (thanks, Mike!) and heavy, heavy bits. If not for the first two miles and last two miles of each ride, it would probably still be pretty clean.
But those miles are dirty, dirty miles. And they're the barrier to getting out the SSL, a bike which is everything Orange Crush is not. Namely: light, stiff and fast as hell.
Crush and I will head out again later this morning for another three hours or so. I've put in some good work over the last few days and I can tell — I'm pretty tired. But the next two days' rides should be pretty steady stuff; nothing too crazy.
Before I wander off, I'll leave you with a semi-random observation:
Over the course of the last few weeks, Mod, Jeremy, Mike, Cornbread and probably a few others have fallen ill with some sort of nasty creeping death. It lasts for a few days in its worst form, then slowly goes away.
The common thread between them? Epic! Gravel! Ice beards! Really long, cold slogs in January. (Although maybe to a lesser extent with Jeremy.) You know, to prepare for those 15-degree, 75-mile winter gravel races?
Meanwhile, I've been outside when it's feasible and inside when it's a more efficient use of time and effort.
Haven't had a sniffle all winter. I haven't missed a day due to illness. I feel strong and fit.
Read into it if you want. Or don't. Just an observation.
Though the snow is fast disappearing, the snowmelt remains in the form of wet roads, morning ice and a generally messy state of affairs. Of course, the preceding description is limited to the in-town streets. Once out of town, the roads are clear, dry and clean.
I've been riding Orange Crush over the past few days, clad in fenders (thanks, Mike!) and heavy, heavy bits. If not for the first two miles and last two miles of each ride, it would probably still be pretty clean.
But those miles are dirty, dirty miles. And they're the barrier to getting out the SSL, a bike which is everything Orange Crush is not. Namely: light, stiff and fast as hell.
Crush and I will head out again later this morning for another three hours or so. I've put in some good work over the last few days and I can tell — I'm pretty tired. But the next two days' rides should be pretty steady stuff; nothing too crazy.
Before I wander off, I'll leave you with a semi-random observation:
Over the course of the last few weeks, Mod, Jeremy, Mike, Cornbread and probably a few others have fallen ill with some sort of nasty creeping death. It lasts for a few days in its worst form, then slowly goes away.
The common thread between them? Epic! Gravel! Ice beards! Really long, cold slogs in January. (Although maybe to a lesser extent with Jeremy.) You know, to prepare for those 15-degree, 75-mile winter gravel races?
Meanwhile, I've been outside when it's feasible and inside when it's a more efficient use of time and effort.
Haven't had a sniffle all winter. I haven't missed a day due to illness. I feel strong and fit.
Read into it if you want. Or don't. Just an observation.
Monday, February 14, 2011
One week on
Last week it was not so bad — 33 degrees, wind chill in the low 20s. Really, it was perfectly reasonable for February.
Yesterday, I got a good start on my summer tanline. That, too, seems perfectly reasonable — given how I remember Februaries past. It's a pretty mixed bag.
Anyway, here's the scoop: We ended up with 3:38 on the bike and 65 miles or so. Pretty steady stuff for the most part, with myself, Ryan, Todd, Kevin and Larry all exhibiting feats of strength at one time or another.
I felt pretty solid throughout, though there wasn't a lot of punch in my legs. I guess that's to be expected, considering the work I've been doing. Still, I felt strong and fit and all of that. There's another good week of bike work ahead, though, starting this morning.
Another week closer to spring. Four weeks until Daylight Saving Time, a couple of weeks after that until Wednesday Night Worlds, and a couple more after that until it's time to pin on a number and get on with it.
Yesterday, I got a good start on my summer tanline. That, too, seems perfectly reasonable — given how I remember Februaries past. It's a pretty mixed bag.
Anyway, here's the scoop: We ended up with 3:38 on the bike and 65 miles or so. Pretty steady stuff for the most part, with myself, Ryan, Todd, Kevin and Larry all exhibiting feats of strength at one time or another.
I felt pretty solid throughout, though there wasn't a lot of punch in my legs. I guess that's to be expected, considering the work I've been doing. Still, I felt strong and fit and all of that. There's another good week of bike work ahead, though, starting this morning.
Another week closer to spring. Four weeks until Daylight Saving Time, a couple of weeks after that until Wednesday Night Worlds, and a couple more after that until it's time to pin on a number and get on with it.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Last one
Due to a time crunch — and the major ice field inhabiting my neighborhood right now — today's workout will be on the trainer. It's just a quick, steady spin anyway.
Tomorrow's workout will be outside. Same with Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Thursday is a yoga day, so that will probably be inside. Seems like the most comfortable way to go about things.
Regardless, the thaw is finally here. Maybe it's because I started formal training almost six weeks later than in previous years, but the winter didn't seem that bad. Based on Tuesday's workout, I'm right where I need to be. And with the weather improving right at the beginning of Base 3 (the current phase), this should turn into very good things.
The only semi-ironic issue is the great kit liquidation. Most of my good stuff is pure roadie-type kit — lots of white. That's not really ideal for riding in the thaw. It's going to be messy as hell. The dark kit I do have will be perfect for riding in the thaw, but the quality is not so good.
So I have two choices, really: wear the good stuff and stay on the front at all times to avoid road splatter (yes, even from those with full-wrap fenders); or wear the dark stuff and dip my entire undercarriage in chamois cream.
These are the decisions I face.
Tomorrow's workout will be outside. Same with Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Thursday is a yoga day, so that will probably be inside. Seems like the most comfortable way to go about things.
Regardless, the thaw is finally here. Maybe it's because I started formal training almost six weeks later than in previous years, but the winter didn't seem that bad. Based on Tuesday's workout, I'm right where I need to be. And with the weather improving right at the beginning of Base 3 (the current phase), this should turn into very good things.
The only semi-ironic issue is the great kit liquidation. Most of my good stuff is pure roadie-type kit — lots of white. That's not really ideal for riding in the thaw. It's going to be messy as hell. The dark kit I do have will be perfect for riding in the thaw, but the quality is not so good.
So I have two choices, really: wear the good stuff and stay on the front at all times to avoid road splatter (yes, even from those with full-wrap fenders); or wear the dark stuff and dip my entire undercarriage in chamois cream.
These are the decisions I face.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Right where I left off
Sunday: Bashed knee on ice, finished ride anyway. Handful of ibuprofen and frequent icing the rest of the day.
Monday: Not too shabby. Sore at first, but managed a super-easy 20 minutes or so on the trainer.
Tuesday: Full speed ahead. Five of these: 12 minutes on (Zone 4 intensity), 3 minutes off, cadence around 95. Felt awesome, and not just "Felt awesome for having a knee that looked like I was smuggling a grapefruit."
Wednesday: The first nighttime workout of the offseason. The morning drills (that's a figurative term, not the workout) have fallen victim to work, which is ironic considering my work.
All of this bike stuff is getting in the way of my cycling.
Monday: Not too shabby. Sore at first, but managed a super-easy 20 minutes or so on the trainer.
Tuesday: Full speed ahead. Five of these: 12 minutes on (Zone 4 intensity), 3 minutes off, cadence around 95. Felt awesome, and not just "Felt awesome for having a knee that looked like I was smuggling a grapefruit."
Wednesday: The first nighttime workout of the offseason. The morning drills (that's a figurative term, not the workout) have fallen victim to work, which is ironic considering my work.
All of this bike stuff is getting in the way of my cycling.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Cleaning house
If nothing else, 2010 could be remembered as the year of rampant kit proliferation. No less than eight full sets of kit were added to the mix along the way. There were no subtractions, though. As such, my cycling closet is beyond overstuffed.
So I'm cleaning house. First up:
This is the dark Trek Store/Midwest Cycling Community jersey, made by Capo. Size M, mesh side panels, underarms, full-length zipper, etc. It was worn fairly sparingly, since I liked the white version better. Retail $130, yours for $45. UPDATE: It's been claimed.
Next up, a Twin Six Speedy jersey, size L. From 2007 or so, but worn sparingly over the last two seasons since it's a little bit big. Fun fact: I was wearing this jersey when I broke my back. Luckily, there are no lasting impressions (blood, snags, tears or otherwise) on the jersey. It's just taking up space. Retail: $75ish, yours for $25.
If you're interested in either item, drop me a line.
So I'm cleaning house. First up:
Next up, a Twin Six Speedy jersey, size L. From 2007 or so, but worn sparingly over the last two seasons since it's a little bit big. Fun fact: I was wearing this jersey when I broke my back. Luckily, there are no lasting impressions (blood, snags, tears or otherwise) on the jersey. It's just taking up space. Retail: $75ish, yours for $25.If you're interested in either item, drop me a line.
Monday, February 7, 2011
See? This is why.
For the better part of the last month or so, those who have Saturdays free to ride have had better weather than those who have Sunday free. How do I know? Because after reading ride reports and Twitter back-and-forth, I get psyched to head out on Sunday.
And then it rains/snows/freezes over/etc., and I'm stuck inside.
This Sunday was a bit of a reprieve from the cycle. It was 32 or 33 degrees most of the night, and was still right there when I was ready to roll. Given the freeze/thaw/freeze business that goes on at that temperature, I figured it would be a good day to take the Top Fuel rather than something with skinny tires.
About two minutes into the ride, I was pissed that I bothered to take anything outside. There are a few ways out of my subdivision, and in the winter it involves Fort Street, almost without fail. That's not a huge deal, since it's a wide three lanes with plenty of visibility. Oh, and it's 10 a.m. on a Sunday.
But one can also cut through Standing Bear Lake and get out of town a little bit quicker. And since I saw the trails had been cleared, I headed that way. Aside from dodging a gigantic doberman (put your stupid dog on a leash, a-hole!), it wasn't too bad. The ice was easy to see and the snow was pretty crunchy.
Well, except for the ice that wasn't easy to see. The landing was crunchy, though. Basically, the front wheel slid out, I landed on my left knee (and a little bit of left hip ... again) and that was it. Nothing scratched, nothing scraped.
"This is why I ride inside with the roads are crap."
I thought about turning around and bagging it entirely — who needs this? — but soldiered on through the rest of the trail and got out on the open road a couple of minutes later. Smooth sailing from there, though my knee tightened up toward the end. I ended up with about two hours.
Gravel. Whee.
I don't know what this is.
Ice, compression and a handful of ibuprofen have kept the knee issues fairly quiet so far. It's stiff, but I can walk on it OK and range of motion is getting better. What's likely to happen is a reshuffling of workouts. I may just move everything back a day and spend the morning icing it.
And with any luck, the next time I'm free to head outside, I'll be smart enough to just head straight to Fort Street and get on with it.
And then it rains/snows/freezes over/etc., and I'm stuck inside.
This Sunday was a bit of a reprieve from the cycle. It was 32 or 33 degrees most of the night, and was still right there when I was ready to roll. Given the freeze/thaw/freeze business that goes on at that temperature, I figured it would be a good day to take the Top Fuel rather than something with skinny tires.
About two minutes into the ride, I was pissed that I bothered to take anything outside. There are a few ways out of my subdivision, and in the winter it involves Fort Street, almost without fail. That's not a huge deal, since it's a wide three lanes with plenty of visibility. Oh, and it's 10 a.m. on a Sunday.
But one can also cut through Standing Bear Lake and get out of town a little bit quicker. And since I saw the trails had been cleared, I headed that way. Aside from dodging a gigantic doberman (put your stupid dog on a leash, a-hole!), it wasn't too bad. The ice was easy to see and the snow was pretty crunchy.
Well, except for the ice that wasn't easy to see. The landing was crunchy, though. Basically, the front wheel slid out, I landed on my left knee (and a little bit of left hip ... again) and that was it. Nothing scratched, nothing scraped.
"This is why I ride inside with the roads are crap."
I thought about turning around and bagging it entirely — who needs this? — but soldiered on through the rest of the trail and got out on the open road a couple of minutes later. Smooth sailing from there, though my knee tightened up toward the end. I ended up with about two hours.
Gravel. Whee.
I don't know what this is.Ice, compression and a handful of ibuprofen have kept the knee issues fairly quiet so far. It's stiff, but I can walk on it OK and range of motion is getting better. What's likely to happen is a reshuffling of workouts. I may just move everything back a day and spend the morning icing it.
And with any luck, the next time I'm free to head outside, I'll be smart enough to just head straight to Fort Street and get on with it.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Three weeks in
The skinnifying is about three weeks old by now, during which time I've trained and worked and eaten fairly normally.
The only real thing I changed to begin with was eating just slightly less. Only one soda per week, smaller portions and more salad are the main ones. None of those can really be called extreme by any means, so the resulting weight loss is pretty moderate, too.
Three pounds. One pound per week, which is what most healthcare professionals recommend anyway. Sure, you can lose five pounds per week, but there's a difference between eating less and not eating at all. Moderation. Moderation.
Meanwhile, I'm still in the middle of a rest week. The little nagging knee problem is clearing up with help again from Mike Bartels of Edge PT. Turns out jacking up your back and then your pelvis pulls on tendons and stuff. Who knew?
With that, it's time to dust the store again. I have a feeling it will be like this for a while.
The only real thing I changed to begin with was eating just slightly less. Only one soda per week, smaller portions and more salad are the main ones. None of those can really be called extreme by any means, so the resulting weight loss is pretty moderate, too.
Three pounds. One pound per week, which is what most healthcare professionals recommend anyway. Sure, you can lose five pounds per week, but there's a difference between eating less and not eating at all. Moderation. Moderation.
Meanwhile, I'm still in the middle of a rest week. The little nagging knee problem is clearing up with help again from Mike Bartels of Edge PT. Turns out jacking up your back and then your pelvis pulls on tendons and stuff. Who knew?
With that, it's time to dust the store again. I have a feeling it will be like this for a while.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
They're blowing up my store
Walls coming down, things being moved, the rest of the week spent dusting. This is where I've been for two hours already.Upside: I didn't have to vacuum. Thanks, Chris.
Downside: Just sitting here. Cleaning - the normal boredom killer - is out. There's dust all over and it's only going to get worse.
So here I am. At least we have an espresso machine.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
As good a time as any
Well, it's snowing. You get that sometimes in Nebraska. Also, it's cold. Really, really cold — and it's only going to get worse, apparently. Sweet.
The upside is that I'm off today anyway. And I work in a bike shop, where we have heat and coffee in abundance. Also, it's a rest week. I'll ride a little today and a little tomorrow, but it's all about recharging the batteries this week. I felt pretty good by the end of last week, and was able to rip through a pretty substantial — and painful — trainer workout on Sunday. It was a nice way to cap that phase.
But now, with extra time on my hands and nothing but my imagination to keep me busy, it's time to get the 2011 schedule out there. Unlike past years, where I put everything out there (and it read more like a wish list), this is what I'm actually planning on doing, barring anything strange coming up.
April
10 — Twin Bing Classic
16-17 — UNL Cycling Weekend
May
20-21 — Flatwater Cycling Weekend
28-29 — Snake Alley, Melon City Crit
June
4-5 — Norfolk Classic/State criterium
25 — State time trial
July
10-11 — BBQ Criterium/road race
16-17 — Omaha Cycling Weekend
August
7 — Centurion Gran Fondo (tentative)
13-14 — East Village Crit/Big Creek Road Race
20 — Gravel Worlds*
September
10-11 — UNL Cycling Weekend
You probably saw the asterisk on August 20. Gravel Worlds. It's not the gravel, the heat, the hills or the distance causing the asterisk. August 20 is Jack's birthday.
So while I really want to do Gravel Worlds, it won't be at the expense of family time or a birthday party. If the party is the next day, on Sunday, it's a different story. Regardless, I'm not going to go too crazy worrying about it. It's less a race and more of a feat of strength.
But anyway, that's that. I'm aiming specifically at the Memorial Day Weekend races, along with Omaha and the UNL races. If something else pops up, I might jump in. For now, though, this is the plan.
You can make your own plan with the help of the GamJams Midwest Calendar, by the way. All of the Nebraska, Iowa and Kansas road races, along with a good chunk of dirt and 'cross, too.
The upside is that I'm off today anyway. And I work in a bike shop, where we have heat and coffee in abundance. Also, it's a rest week. I'll ride a little today and a little tomorrow, but it's all about recharging the batteries this week. I felt pretty good by the end of last week, and was able to rip through a pretty substantial — and painful — trainer workout on Sunday. It was a nice way to cap that phase.
But now, with extra time on my hands and nothing but my imagination to keep me busy, it's time to get the 2011 schedule out there. Unlike past years, where I put everything out there (and it read more like a wish list), this is what I'm actually planning on doing, barring anything strange coming up.
April
10 — Twin Bing Classic
16-17 — UNL Cycling Weekend
May
20-21 — Flatwater Cycling Weekend
28-29 — Snake Alley, Melon City Crit
June
4-5 — Norfolk Classic/State criterium
25 — State time trial
July
10-11 — BBQ Criterium/road race
16-17 — Omaha Cycling Weekend
August
7 — Centurion Gran Fondo (tentative)
13-14 — East Village Crit/Big Creek Road Race
20 — Gravel Worlds*
September
10-11 — UNL Cycling Weekend
You probably saw the asterisk on August 20. Gravel Worlds. It's not the gravel, the heat, the hills or the distance causing the asterisk. August 20 is Jack's birthday.
So while I really want to do Gravel Worlds, it won't be at the expense of family time or a birthday party. If the party is the next day, on Sunday, it's a different story. Regardless, I'm not going to go too crazy worrying about it. It's less a race and more of a feat of strength.
But anyway, that's that. I'm aiming specifically at the Memorial Day Weekend races, along with Omaha and the UNL races. If something else pops up, I might jump in. For now, though, this is the plan.
You can make your own plan with the help of the GamJams Midwest Calendar, by the way. All of the Nebraska, Iowa and Kansas road races, along with a good chunk of dirt and 'cross, too.
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