It was good to be back in a big group for Wednesday Night Worlds last night. Though it was much the same as being in a big group over the weekend, the routines of Wednesday evening are comforting — no matter how much it hurts in the end.
Despite riding in groups all winter, it seemed like everything went completely sketch-balls as soon as the pace cranked up. Unnecessary echelons, guttering on the yellow line, random hard pull-throughs ... it was a banner evening for all involved.
Luckily, this happens pretty much every year. It'll be better next week and even better the week after that. Pretty soon we'll be humming along like usual.
How'd I do? Well enough. After Sunday's mess, I was half-concerned that I really wasn't that fit — that Saturday was a mirage. It turns out Sunday was the mirage. There's still work to do, of course, but I didn't embarrass myself out there last night.
It's a start.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Adapting
Chris used to hassle me about messing around with my phone too much. I've busted her a couple of times in the past few weeks, engrossed in her shiny new toy.
That rapt attention (or non-attention) is one of the reasons the iPhone is as popular as it is. Chris has never had a smartphone before, but pretty much "got it" right away with her iPhone. It explains why I've seen so many older people using one, too. Find the icon, tap it. And that's it. Same goes for the iPad.
Of course, there's a lot more you can do with it, and we've been exploring that part, too. Calendars and contacts are synced, email is all lined up and doing its thing. Chris is using the calendar and reminders to finally — finally — get away from her paper-and-pencil planner.
But the one thing that really drives me nuts — and always has — is text messaging. Not the functionality of it. No, that part is great. It's the cost part of it. Considering the network space one text needs — just a fraction of a tiny blip on the tower — they're awfully expensive at $0.20 apiece.
The big change for us is having to pay that 20 cents for incoming texts as well. With US Cellular, incoming texts are free. You know, because it's not your fault someone sends a note. That's not the case with AT&T and a lot of other carriers. The idea, of course, is to push you toward one of the overpriced messaging plans.
Yeah, no dice. We already chopped down the data plan from $30 each to $20 each. Considering we have WiFi at home and at work, there's no need to pay for 3GB of data each month on our phones. The 300MB is just fine, thanks.
The good thing is that with a data plan, even a small one, there are workarounds for the texting thing.
It'll be interesting to see how our phone use evolves as the devices become more ingrained in our daily routines. Just as interesting, I think, will be what happens when phone companies start running up against real bandwidth restrictions. Jacked-up prices? New technology. We'll see.
That rapt attention (or non-attention) is one of the reasons the iPhone is as popular as it is. Chris has never had a smartphone before, but pretty much "got it" right away with her iPhone. It explains why I've seen so many older people using one, too. Find the icon, tap it. And that's it. Same goes for the iPad.
Of course, there's a lot more you can do with it, and we've been exploring that part, too. Calendars and contacts are synced, email is all lined up and doing its thing. Chris is using the calendar and reminders to finally — finally — get away from her paper-and-pencil planner.
But the one thing that really drives me nuts — and always has — is text messaging. Not the functionality of it. No, that part is great. It's the cost part of it. Considering the network space one text needs — just a fraction of a tiny blip on the tower — they're awfully expensive at $0.20 apiece.
The big change for us is having to pay that 20 cents for incoming texts as well. With US Cellular, incoming texts are free. You know, because it's not your fault someone sends a note. That's not the case with AT&T and a lot of other carriers. The idea, of course, is to push you toward one of the overpriced messaging plans.
Yeah, no dice. We already chopped down the data plan from $30 each to $20 each. Considering we have WiFi at home and at work, there's no need to pay for 3GB of data each month on our phones. The 300MB is just fine, thanks.
The good thing is that with a data plan, even a small one, there are workarounds for the texting thing.
It'll be interesting to see how our phone use evolves as the devices become more ingrained in our daily routines. Just as interesting, I think, will be what happens when phone companies start running up against real bandwidth restrictions. Jacked-up prices? New technology. We'll see.
Monday, March 26, 2012
The beginning
One of the benefits of the mild winter is being able to get a lot of miles in. We haven't been that lucky in the past.
The downside is when it's time to race, everybody is raring to go. The races this weekend both had good, fast fields. Last year there were 18 guys combined in the 1-2-3 bunch. We were over 30 both days, I think.
It's hard to look too far into this weekend's results as a predictor of the season. It's not even April yet, and my bigger goals are still months away. Still, a few weaknesses were revealed (further revealed, maybe?) along the way.
Saturday
Oh, Branched Oak. Man, you suck sometimes. This time was not one of them. It was easily the nicest weather I've ever experienced there. Great temperatures, almost no wind. It was a nice day.
We were put into chase duty halfway through the 60-mile race. We had a nice six- or seven-man rotation going at the front, and I took as many turns as I could. And when the rotation fell apart late, I did what I could with what I had left. It wasn't much, but I didn't have anything left to give at the end.
I guess that part is good.
However, we fell short on strategy. Or, rather, we fell short on executing the strategy. We learned our lesson. Won't happen again.
Halfway up the big climb on the last lap, my left hamstring started to cramp. Lots of people were cramping toward the end, but I almost never cramp. That was alarming. It took a good 10 minutes for it to let go and feel better again. In fact, it's still sore. I was drinking plenty, both before and during the race, so I may look at my bike fit again just to make sure everything is good.
Sunday
I'd love to say I came into the race with fresh legs and ready to pound my head against the wall for an hour.
But I won't. I'd be lying. My legs felt like crap after Saturday and even worse on Sunday morning. I stretched, I drank more water, I stretched some more. No dice.
And when I kicked with futility at my pedals for a few seconds at the start of the race, that was pretty much it. I haven't missed a pedal like that in a couple of years. The last time it happened, I got popped pretty quick.
Guess what happened? Yup. I missed a pedal, killed myself to get back on, and by that time the bunch was flying. It was just a matter of time after that. Yes, I'm disappointed. No, I'm not worried. What happened what my fault, and I know how to fix it.
So that's the first weekend of racing. It wasn't really all that great. Congrats, though, to my teammates, who recorded some pretty great results. It's a little bit of salve on the wound, but it would be better if it were icing on the cake. Mmmmm ... cake.
The downside is when it's time to race, everybody is raring to go. The races this weekend both had good, fast fields. Last year there were 18 guys combined in the 1-2-3 bunch. We were over 30 both days, I think.
It's hard to look too far into this weekend's results as a predictor of the season. It's not even April yet, and my bigger goals are still months away. Still, a few weaknesses were revealed (further revealed, maybe?) along the way.
Saturday
Oh, Branched Oak. Man, you suck sometimes. This time was not one of them. It was easily the nicest weather I've ever experienced there. Great temperatures, almost no wind. It was a nice day.
We were put into chase duty halfway through the 60-mile race. We had a nice six- or seven-man rotation going at the front, and I took as many turns as I could. And when the rotation fell apart late, I did what I could with what I had left. It wasn't much, but I didn't have anything left to give at the end.
I guess that part is good.
However, we fell short on strategy. Or, rather, we fell short on executing the strategy. We learned our lesson. Won't happen again.
Halfway up the big climb on the last lap, my left hamstring started to cramp. Lots of people were cramping toward the end, but I almost never cramp. That was alarming. It took a good 10 minutes for it to let go and feel better again. In fact, it's still sore. I was drinking plenty, both before and during the race, so I may look at my bike fit again just to make sure everything is good.
Sunday
I'd love to say I came into the race with fresh legs and ready to pound my head against the wall for an hour.
But I won't. I'd be lying. My legs felt like crap after Saturday and even worse on Sunday morning. I stretched, I drank more water, I stretched some more. No dice.
And when I kicked with futility at my pedals for a few seconds at the start of the race, that was pretty much it. I haven't missed a pedal like that in a couple of years. The last time it happened, I got popped pretty quick.
Guess what happened? Yup. I missed a pedal, killed myself to get back on, and by that time the bunch was flying. It was just a matter of time after that. Yes, I'm disappointed. No, I'm not worried. What happened what my fault, and I know how to fix it.
So that's the first weekend of racing. It wasn't really all that great. Congrats, though, to my teammates, who recorded some pretty great results. It's a little bit of salve on the wound, but it would be better if it were icing on the cake. Mmmmm ... cake.
Friday, March 23, 2012
An honest question
The Nebraska road season begins tomorrow — 9 a.m. at Branched Oak. I've never really had great luck there, but I'll try again. Of course.
For a couple of years now, Nebraska races have had online-only registration. As a guy who typically pre-registers well in advance, I've never had a problem with that. But I know that some people don't work that way — sometimes schedules clear up at the last minute. Or sometimes people decide to jump into the race right before going to bed the night before. Sometimes, you simply forget.
But, since Nebraska doesn't offer day-of registration, those people are out of luck. That's $25 or $35 or $40 per rider lost because of online-only registration.
And here's my question: Why doesn't Nebraska have day-of registration?
A number of people have asked the same question, and here's the most common answer (with no further explanation): "It's too hard."
Nebraska uses a chip timing system, which is nice, I suppose. It makes scoring a bit easier, which is good for officials. But I've never heard of someone signing up for a race specifically because it has chip timing. In my opinion, it's more of a nice touch for riders than anything else.
The chip system — assigning numbers and chips to riders and whatnot — takes time to set up. That's been stated as "hours of preparation." In this case, technology appears to be adding a great deal of additional work to race setup.
Technology exists to make things easier, more convenient. If anything, the Nebraska race setup appears to be making things harder — for everybody. Racers lose the option of last-minute registration, while timing officials suddenly have to spend "hours" before each race getting things ready.
"It's too hard to offer race-day registration" is a pretty weak argument, given all that's needed to get the chip system ready for a race. It seems to me that setup is considerably harder than having a half-dozen clipboards, a file folder and a stack of numbers.
The "it's too hard" argument loses further steam when you consider the twilight cyclocross series from last fall. All of the races were chip timed. All were day-of registration. The races started on time. Results were posted promptly.
That didn't seem "too hard" for anybody involved.
I posted this argument on Facebook last night, but my comment was deleted. The previous 100-plus years of bicycle racing had day-of registration. Why is it now so difficult to offer such a thing? Iowa races almost exclusively have day-of registration and no chip timing.
I could ramble on for a while, but I don't really need to. What I really need — or would like to hear — is a reasonable explanation of the lack of day-of registration for Nebraska bike races. There has to be more to it than "it's too hard."
Why is it too hard?
Why does better technology suddenly cancel out a piece of paper and a file folder?
Why did it work for six straight weeks in the fall, but it's not an option now?
I'm all ears.
For a couple of years now, Nebraska races have had online-only registration. As a guy who typically pre-registers well in advance, I've never had a problem with that. But I know that some people don't work that way — sometimes schedules clear up at the last minute. Or sometimes people decide to jump into the race right before going to bed the night before. Sometimes, you simply forget.
But, since Nebraska doesn't offer day-of registration, those people are out of luck. That's $25 or $35 or $40 per rider lost because of online-only registration.
And here's my question: Why doesn't Nebraska have day-of registration?
A number of people have asked the same question, and here's the most common answer (with no further explanation): "It's too hard."
Nebraska uses a chip timing system, which is nice, I suppose. It makes scoring a bit easier, which is good for officials. But I've never heard of someone signing up for a race specifically because it has chip timing. In my opinion, it's more of a nice touch for riders than anything else.
The chip system — assigning numbers and chips to riders and whatnot — takes time to set up. That's been stated as "hours of preparation." In this case, technology appears to be adding a great deal of additional work to race setup.
Technology exists to make things easier, more convenient. If anything, the Nebraska race setup appears to be making things harder — for everybody. Racers lose the option of last-minute registration, while timing officials suddenly have to spend "hours" before each race getting things ready.
"It's too hard to offer race-day registration" is a pretty weak argument, given all that's needed to get the chip system ready for a race. It seems to me that setup is considerably harder than having a half-dozen clipboards, a file folder and a stack of numbers.
The "it's too hard" argument loses further steam when you consider the twilight cyclocross series from last fall. All of the races were chip timed. All were day-of registration. The races started on time. Results were posted promptly.
That didn't seem "too hard" for anybody involved.
I posted this argument on Facebook last night, but my comment was deleted. The previous 100-plus years of bicycle racing had day-of registration. Why is it now so difficult to offer such a thing? Iowa races almost exclusively have day-of registration and no chip timing.
I could ramble on for a while, but I don't really need to. What I really need — or would like to hear — is a reasonable explanation of the lack of day-of registration for Nebraska bike races. There has to be more to it than "it's too hard."
Why is it too hard?
Why does better technology suddenly cancel out a piece of paper and a file folder?
Why did it work for six straight weeks in the fall, but it's not an option now?
I'm all ears.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Jesus won't mind
Near the end of a damp, dark ride last night, Paul Webb and I crossed 72nd on State Street, heading west toward Wenninghoff Road.
For the first hundred yards or so west of 72nd, there's a median in the middle of the street. It's definitely a one-lane-only sort of deal. Near the end of the median, we felt a truck behind us. Like, right behind us.
Since we were near the end of the median, we figured it would be fine to carry on as we were. As soon as we got to the end of the median, we heard the truck accelerate and it went past us. Right next to us. On an open road with no other traffic.
Thanks, lady.
As we topped the next rise in the road, we saw brake lights from the truck. And as we got closer, we saw that the driver had turned right ... into a church parking lot.
We asked from the road if Jesus would have been cool with her passing us so close. She responded with what sounded an awful lot like "Get off the road."
I'm not an avid churchgoer, but I'm fairly certain what follows is true:
If you're devoted enough to attend Wednesday night services, you should probably also know that buzzing people (God's creatures, and all) who are slowing you down on your way to church and then popping off about it is pretty un-Christian.
Seriously, people. It's OK. Twenty seconds more — or even 10 seconds — won't make a difference. Jesus won't mind.
For the first hundred yards or so west of 72nd, there's a median in the middle of the street. It's definitely a one-lane-only sort of deal. Near the end of the median, we felt a truck behind us. Like, right behind us.
Since we were near the end of the median, we figured it would be fine to carry on as we were. As soon as we got to the end of the median, we heard the truck accelerate and it went past us. Right next to us. On an open road with no other traffic.
Thanks, lady.
As we topped the next rise in the road, we saw brake lights from the truck. And as we got closer, we saw that the driver had turned right ... into a church parking lot.
We asked from the road if Jesus would have been cool with her passing us so close. She responded with what sounded an awful lot like "Get off the road."
I'm not an avid churchgoer, but I'm fairly certain what follows is true:
If you're devoted enough to attend Wednesday night services, you should probably also know that buzzing people (God's creatures, and all) who are slowing you down on your way to church and then popping off about it is pretty un-Christian.
Seriously, people. It's OK. Twenty seconds more — or even 10 seconds — won't make a difference. Jesus won't mind.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Race prep
Despite feeling all slow and heavy and wrestling the wind, the weekend's riding was solid. I'm good with it.
Monday, mostly because I was exhausted, I didn't ride.
Tuesday, which should have been a workout day — Lucas and I had it planned and everything, it rained. All day.
And now it's Wednesday, when I ride to work, hit Wednesday Night Worlds and discover my inadequacies. And hopefully I'll recover in time to be worth a crap this weekend.
If there's one part of my schedule I'm still trying to figure out, it's training time. I feel like I'm still overbooked somehow — like there's an hour in most days that could be better used. But I can't seem to find it.
When summer rolls around, things will probably be a little easier. I won't be bound by the hard caps of daycare drop-off and pick-up. That should allow for a bit more flexibility. I don't need a ton of miles, just a few more.
As for the weekend? I'm not super-pumped to race at Branched Oak, but I've never met anybody who is. If nothing else, I know the course and I know the game that usually gets played there. Hopefully I can be a participant this time.
Monday, mostly because I was exhausted, I didn't ride.
Tuesday, which should have been a workout day — Lucas and I had it planned and everything, it rained. All day.
And now it's Wednesday, when I ride to work, hit Wednesday Night Worlds and discover my inadequacies. And hopefully I'll recover in time to be worth a crap this weekend.
If there's one part of my schedule I'm still trying to figure out, it's training time. I feel like I'm still overbooked somehow — like there's an hour in most days that could be better used. But I can't seem to find it.
When summer rolls around, things will probably be a little easier. I won't be bound by the hard caps of daycare drop-off and pick-up. That should allow for a bit more flexibility. I don't need a ton of miles, just a few more.
As for the weekend? I'm not super-pumped to race at Branched Oak, but I've never met anybody who is. If nothing else, I know the course and I know the game that usually gets played there. Hopefully I can be a participant this time.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Dangling in the breeze
We have a wind chime right by our patio door that makes light tinkling sounds in the breeze — though it takes a good-sized breeze to get it going. It's been serenading us for days on end.
That's pretty much the story of the weekend, at least on the bike. I missed the Saturday group ride, which is good because my legs were mostly worthless anyway. I ended up heading down toward Elkhorn, Venice, Yutan and back up on the flat.
I put the Bontrager Aura 5 wheels on my Madone before I left. I only rode them a couple of times in the fall, but with races looming, I should probably get a feel for them. I was able to push 33mph or so on the flat from Venice (Center Street) to just west of Waterloo (Maple Street). They wind up pretty quick and ride smooth. Like with a lot of deep-section wheels, crosswind gusts grab hold now and again. I'll probably use them next weekend for one or both of the races.
I headed out alone again on Sunday, wind already gusting at 9 a.m. I didn't want to go to Glenwood or Louisville or anywhere else where I'd be out in the open for extended periods of time. I ended up heading toward Ponca Hills, up to Fort Calhoun via Boyer Chute, and then back into Ponca off Highway 75.
The view in Boyer Chute was surreal. If you haven't been up there after the floods, go check it out. The fields are covered in sand from the river, and dunes fill the ditches. Because of the wind, huge clouds of dust were rolling across the valley floor. When I passed one of the abandoned homes, the scene could have been from the Dust Bowl times — a storm door half-off its hinges, the air thick with dust. Crazy.
After hitting Ponca Hills a second time — where I witnessed a very angry man in a pickup yelling at a building (yep) — I headed down Florence Blvd. toward downtown. I hit Bellevue and had notions of riding the Boulevard, but I didn't have time. I turned at Spring Lake and headed back toward Aksarben and took the trail route home.
By the end of two days of fighting the wind, my back hurt. I've found that the different positioning — mostly because you're trying to steady your bike and hold a line — adds significant tension to my upper body. That, in turn, makes my back sore.
Stretching and ibuprofen is about the only way to handle that, so that's on the list for today.
As far as racing next weekend, I'll be there. I feel OK, all things considered. Hopefully I can get some good sleep this week. It'll be nice to pin on a number again.
That's pretty much the story of the weekend, at least on the bike. I missed the Saturday group ride, which is good because my legs were mostly worthless anyway. I ended up heading down toward Elkhorn, Venice, Yutan and back up on the flat.
I put the Bontrager Aura 5 wheels on my Madone before I left. I only rode them a couple of times in the fall, but with races looming, I should probably get a feel for them. I was able to push 33mph or so on the flat from Venice (Center Street) to just west of Waterloo (Maple Street). They wind up pretty quick and ride smooth. Like with a lot of deep-section wheels, crosswind gusts grab hold now and again. I'll probably use them next weekend for one or both of the races.
I headed out alone again on Sunday, wind already gusting at 9 a.m. I didn't want to go to Glenwood or Louisville or anywhere else where I'd be out in the open for extended periods of time. I ended up heading toward Ponca Hills, up to Fort Calhoun via Boyer Chute, and then back into Ponca off Highway 75.
The view in Boyer Chute was surreal. If you haven't been up there after the floods, go check it out. The fields are covered in sand from the river, and dunes fill the ditches. Because of the wind, huge clouds of dust were rolling across the valley floor. When I passed one of the abandoned homes, the scene could have been from the Dust Bowl times — a storm door half-off its hinges, the air thick with dust. Crazy.
After hitting Ponca Hills a second time — where I witnessed a very angry man in a pickup yelling at a building (yep) — I headed down Florence Blvd. toward downtown. I hit Bellevue and had notions of riding the Boulevard, but I didn't have time. I turned at Spring Lake and headed back toward Aksarben and took the trail route home.
By the end of two days of fighting the wind, my back hurt. I've found that the different positioning — mostly because you're trying to steady your bike and hold a line — adds significant tension to my upper body. That, in turn, makes my back sore.
Stretching and ibuprofen is about the only way to handle that, so that's on the list for today.
As far as racing next weekend, I'll be there. I feel OK, all things considered. Hopefully I can get some good sleep this week. It'll be nice to pin on a number again.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
A welcome break
You know it's a crazy week when "taking a break" means "riding bikes really hard."
But that's how things are right now. Because I'm still stuck in "we're poor" mode (we're not. I mean, not really.), I took on a good-sized freelance project from the World-Herald. The pay is good, the stories aren't bad and in the time commitment is not a big deal.
Or, rather, it wouldn't be a big deal if Harvest wasn't in the middle of its biggest week since ... well, ever. So in between taking care of our clients, I've been chasing down contacts for these newspaper stories.
And in between — and before, and after — all of that, I've been helping Ryan with his work. We're working with Trek and a good number of dealers on mailers and catalogs for the April sale. It's a lot of proofing and image finding and cat wrangling. And working early and late.
Other than riding to work, there really hasn't been much time for riding on weekdays — until last night. Though Wednesday Night Worlds isn't official for a couple more weeks, it was too nice to not go for a ride. So we went.
I did OK. Had some good moments and bad moments. Attacked during tactically poor times, mostly just to attack. There wasn't any goal other than to get out of my comfort zone a little bit. Climbed OK, responded to a couple of things OK.
Basically, it was OK. But it was so nice to think only about my bike for an hour or two. It was short-lived, but appreciated. (Thanks, Chris.)
Last night I had a dream about sleeping. That's where we are in this whole process. I have to get through two more days, and then I'm sleeping all weekend.
But that's how things are right now. Because I'm still stuck in "we're poor" mode (we're not. I mean, not really.), I took on a good-sized freelance project from the World-Herald. The pay is good, the stories aren't bad and in the time commitment is not a big deal.
Or, rather, it wouldn't be a big deal if Harvest wasn't in the middle of its biggest week since ... well, ever. So in between taking care of our clients, I've been chasing down contacts for these newspaper stories.
And in between — and before, and after — all of that, I've been helping Ryan with his work. We're working with Trek and a good number of dealers on mailers and catalogs for the April sale. It's a lot of proofing and image finding and cat wrangling. And working early and late.
Other than riding to work, there really hasn't been much time for riding on weekdays — until last night. Though Wednesday Night Worlds isn't official for a couple more weeks, it was too nice to not go for a ride. So we went.
I did OK. Had some good moments and bad moments. Attacked during tactically poor times, mostly just to attack. There wasn't any goal other than to get out of my comfort zone a little bit. Climbed OK, responded to a couple of things OK.
Basically, it was OK. But it was so nice to think only about my bike for an hour or two. It was short-lived, but appreciated. (Thanks, Chris.)
Last night I had a dream about sleeping. That's where we are in this whole process. I have to get through two more days, and then I'm sleeping all weekend.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Danger zone
Hey Keystone Hammer,
How was your winter? I really enjoyed mine, thanks. I got a lot of good miles in, thanks to the mild weather and relative lack of snow. Even with the snow, I was able to get outside thanks to my cyclocross bike. (I'll explain that sometime.)
Anyway, it was great seeing you guys yesterday. I'm sure it must be nice for you to get off your trainers and back onto the bike path. It hasn't been the same without you all winter. I was reminded of that on my ride home last night.
Like many Omahans, I was determined to take advantage of the first warm, sunny day after the time switch, so I rode my bike to work. (It's this whole other kind of riding, where you don't have to drive to a trailhead to use your bike. I'll explain that sometime, too.) It was really nice to see so many others out enjoying the weather. Even after a mild winter, the warm sunshine feels good on your skin. But I digress ... .
I feel like I should explain my reaction to the near-perfect (for triathletes) paceline you guys had going when we met near the Maple Street underpass. I think it was probably the way you adeptly forced all of the other trail users off the pavement that first caught my attention. It takes a lot to get some people to move over, but I'm guessing your head-down, 20-plus mph exhibition is what did the trick.
And it wasn't just the speed that was impressive, it was the way the back end of your group was weaving all over the trail, which had formerly been occupied by walkers, runners and kids on bikes. You have to be aggressive to stake your claim to that recreational concrete, and you guys weren't messing around.
When I said, "Get out of your aerobars!" I wasn't trying to be mean or rude. I was trying to save the rest of the trail users from whatever brand of awesome your group was dishing out. I mean, it takes some serious chutzpah to line up a group and point it down the trail, wind or human-based obstacles be damned. The pathway to success in your various participation-based events is, quite literally, a pathway sometimes.
Part of me wishes I had been able to see your group go whipping through those half-blind corners farther down the trail. I think watching you handle the little girl who was slowly riding what had to be her first bike with her family would have been a thing of beauty.
But alas, I needed to get home. So I rolled rode north and smiled and nodded to a dozen or more folks (I'll explain this, too) before leaving the trail and climbing up into the neighborhood.
I rolled into my driveway 20 minutes later confident that I had earlier seen the guys who surely had won the Keystone on Monday night. How did I know? You triathletes never let me down.
bryan
How was your winter? I really enjoyed mine, thanks. I got a lot of good miles in, thanks to the mild weather and relative lack of snow. Even with the snow, I was able to get outside thanks to my cyclocross bike. (I'll explain that sometime.)
Anyway, it was great seeing you guys yesterday. I'm sure it must be nice for you to get off your trainers and back onto the bike path. It hasn't been the same without you all winter. I was reminded of that on my ride home last night.
Like many Omahans, I was determined to take advantage of the first warm, sunny day after the time switch, so I rode my bike to work. (It's this whole other kind of riding, where you don't have to drive to a trailhead to use your bike. I'll explain that sometime, too.) It was really nice to see so many others out enjoying the weather. Even after a mild winter, the warm sunshine feels good on your skin. But I digress ... .
I feel like I should explain my reaction to the near-perfect (for triathletes) paceline you guys had going when we met near the Maple Street underpass. I think it was probably the way you adeptly forced all of the other trail users off the pavement that first caught my attention. It takes a lot to get some people to move over, but I'm guessing your head-down, 20-plus mph exhibition is what did the trick.
And it wasn't just the speed that was impressive, it was the way the back end of your group was weaving all over the trail, which had formerly been occupied by walkers, runners and kids on bikes. You have to be aggressive to stake your claim to that recreational concrete, and you guys weren't messing around.
When I said, "Get out of your aerobars!" I wasn't trying to be mean or rude. I was trying to save the rest of the trail users from whatever brand of awesome your group was dishing out. I mean, it takes some serious chutzpah to line up a group and point it down the trail, wind or human-based obstacles be damned. The pathway to success in your various participation-based events is, quite literally, a pathway sometimes.
Part of me wishes I had been able to see your group go whipping through those half-blind corners farther down the trail. I think watching you handle the little girl who was slowly riding what had to be her first bike with her family would have been a thing of beauty.
But alas, I needed to get home. So I rolled rode north and smiled and nodded to a dozen or more folks (I'll explain this, too) before leaving the trail and climbing up into the neighborhood.
I rolled into my driveway 20 minutes later confident that I had earlier seen the guys who surely had won the Keystone on Monday night. How did I know? You triathletes never let me down.
bryan
Monday, March 12, 2012
Sun, rain, wind, etc.
This weekend's miles were a pretty good example of the multiple personality disorder-type weather we face in Nebraska.
Saturday started warmish and ended up certifiably warm. The wind really kicked up later in the morning, but it was still pretty nice. Well, with the exception of the part where I was going 14mph into the wind on the ay home. That part sucked.
Sunday dawned cloudy and damp. A near constant mist/drizzle/light rain followed KGil and I for our tour of the land west of Elkhorn. Somehow, it felt like we had a headwind the entire way. That constant moisture made it a perfect day for a healthy dose of embrocation, but it also made my bike a frickin' mess.
No, I haven't cleaned it up yet.
I rode in today on the Ion, which has full-wrap fenders. At some point in the next few days — schedule willing — both bikes will get complete overhauls and such. Right now, though, I'm stacked up with all manner of things, from regular work to freelance work to pretend work.
We're dealing with a lot of shit here.
Saturday started warmish and ended up certifiably warm. The wind really kicked up later in the morning, but it was still pretty nice. Well, with the exception of the part where I was going 14mph into the wind on the ay home. That part sucked.
Sunday dawned cloudy and damp. A near constant mist/drizzle/light rain followed KGil and I for our tour of the land west of Elkhorn. Somehow, it felt like we had a headwind the entire way. That constant moisture made it a perfect day for a healthy dose of embrocation, but it also made my bike a frickin' mess.
No, I haven't cleaned it up yet.
I rode in today on the Ion, which has full-wrap fenders. At some point in the next few days — schedule willing — both bikes will get complete overhauls and such. Right now, though, I'm stacked up with all manner of things, from regular work to freelance work to pretend work.
We're dealing with a lot of shit here.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Powering through
I got an email a few days ago from Monster.com. The subject line: Your Resume Has Expired!
It took me a second to realize what that actually meant. In the great panic of 2009, I sent my resume out to pretty much everybody and everything. Monster.com was just one of many. Since I jumped back into the workforce fairly quickly, I didn't think about that resume again until I got the email.
It's been just over three years since that flurry of resume-sending, oh-shit-what-are-we-going-to-do-now worrying. The situation today couldn't be farther than that of 2009.
Instead of working for a company that's shrinking and taking on water, I'm working for a company that's expanding rapidly, with more work than we can handle. Instead of being a drone, I'm an asset.
And instead of being beaten down by corporate policy, I get perks for being a bike rider.
Things are good. Busy, but good. Back to work.
It took me a second to realize what that actually meant. In the great panic of 2009, I sent my resume out to pretty much everybody and everything. Monster.com was just one of many. Since I jumped back into the workforce fairly quickly, I didn't think about that resume again until I got the email.
It's been just over three years since that flurry of resume-sending, oh-shit-what-are-we-going-to-do-now worrying. The situation today couldn't be farther than that of 2009.
Instead of working for a company that's shrinking and taking on water, I'm working for a company that's expanding rapidly, with more work than we can handle. Instead of being a drone, I'm an asset.
And instead of being beaten down by corporate policy, I get perks for being a bike rider.
Things are good. Busy, but good. Back to work.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
The windy season
We all knew it was coming. The wind, that is.
Saturday had a bit of wind. Sunday was worse, moving straight into ridiculous. Monday, I didn't care. It was probably windy.
Yesterday Lucas and I slayed the Keystone, at one point psyched to be doing 18mph into the teeth of that wind. Of course, we were doing 30 on the way back.
And today, it looks like I'll have headwinds both ways – from the southwest this morning on the way to work and from the northwest tonight on the way home.
It's always kind of funny reading complaints on Facebook and Twitter about how godawful windy it is. Sure, it grinds on you after a month or so, but you really can't do anything about it other than stay inside. And when it's 60 degrees at 7:30 in the morning, you go outside and deal with it.
Besides, riding in the wind makes you faster. Even for me, a guy who absolutely sucks in the wind — especially crosswinds — it's worth getting out there.
Saturday had a bit of wind. Sunday was worse, moving straight into ridiculous. Monday, I didn't care. It was probably windy.
Yesterday Lucas and I slayed the Keystone, at one point psyched to be doing 18mph into the teeth of that wind. Of course, we were doing 30 on the way back.
And today, it looks like I'll have headwinds both ways – from the southwest this morning on the way to work and from the northwest tonight on the way home.
It's always kind of funny reading complaints on Facebook and Twitter about how godawful windy it is. Sure, it grinds on you after a month or so, but you really can't do anything about it other than stay inside. And when it's 60 degrees at 7:30 in the morning, you go outside and deal with it.
Besides, riding in the wind makes you faster. Even for me, a guy who absolutely sucks in the wind — especially crosswinds — it's worth getting out there.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Throttled
It's been a while since I put together back-to-back hard days on a weekend. Typically one day is pretty laid back compared to the other.
This weekend, though, consisted of a hilly Saturday and a windy Sunday.
On Saturday, I headed to a hill workout organized by Joe. Lucas and Paul and many others were there, so we did our best to beat on each other for 25 hilly miles. On each hill, I was wondering when, exactly, I'd pop and then float backward as the others rode away.
The answer, surprisingly, was none of them. I climbed pretty well and only once put it into the barfy zone. I'll take that. Of course, I then had to ride 45 minutes back into the wind to get home, so it was only a small victory.
Regardless, I felt good the whole way. It was a good start to the weekend.
On Sunday, Mike and Jeremy and I intercepted a big group that was headed northwest and then back north. The tricky thing yesterday was the wind. It started out super-calm but got ridiculous later.
Everything was fine, actually, until about halfway between Arlington and Blair. The very strong NNW winds kicked up as we were leaving Arlington, making that stretch of Highway 30 borderline dangerous. At one point, we were pedaling at 40, ripping down the debris-covered shoulder.
That road turns back north as it gets closer to Blair, and it was there where I kind of fell apart a little bit. I couldn't go fast enough to get into the rotation, where I knew I'd get a slight break now and then. So I dangled near the back for a handful of excruciating minutes. Everybody knows that's the among the worst places to be, but I couldn't do anything about it.
And so, I was gone.
We regrouped in Blair and readied for the tailwind express to Fort Calhoun. As expected, it got really, really fast. At one point, I was doing 35mph ... and the group was pulling away. And that was it for me. I still did 30 most of the way to Fort Calhoun, but I didn't have what I needed to keep a higher tempo. It happens sometimes, I guess.
The last hour, in total, was uncomfortable. That's the effect of Saturday, plus silly crosswinds and any number of other things. But I made it back. And upon hanging up my bike in the garage, I felt a feeling of relief wash over me.
"Thank god that's over."
But it's another week. And there's more work to do. Onward.
This weekend, though, consisted of a hilly Saturday and a windy Sunday.
On Saturday, I headed to a hill workout organized by Joe. Lucas and Paul and many others were there, so we did our best to beat on each other for 25 hilly miles. On each hill, I was wondering when, exactly, I'd pop and then float backward as the others rode away.
The answer, surprisingly, was none of them. I climbed pretty well and only once put it into the barfy zone. I'll take that. Of course, I then had to ride 45 minutes back into the wind to get home, so it was only a small victory.
Regardless, I felt good the whole way. It was a good start to the weekend.
On Sunday, Mike and Jeremy and I intercepted a big group that was headed northwest and then back north. The tricky thing yesterday was the wind. It started out super-calm but got ridiculous later.
Everything was fine, actually, until about halfway between Arlington and Blair. The very strong NNW winds kicked up as we were leaving Arlington, making that stretch of Highway 30 borderline dangerous. At one point, we were pedaling at 40, ripping down the debris-covered shoulder.
That road turns back north as it gets closer to Blair, and it was there where I kind of fell apart a little bit. I couldn't go fast enough to get into the rotation, where I knew I'd get a slight break now and then. So I dangled near the back for a handful of excruciating minutes. Everybody knows that's the among the worst places to be, but I couldn't do anything about it.
And so, I was gone.
We regrouped in Blair and readied for the tailwind express to Fort Calhoun. As expected, it got really, really fast. At one point, I was doing 35mph ... and the group was pulling away. And that was it for me. I still did 30 most of the way to Fort Calhoun, but I didn't have what I needed to keep a higher tempo. It happens sometimes, I guess.
The last hour, in total, was uncomfortable. That's the effect of Saturday, plus silly crosswinds and any number of other things. But I made it back. And upon hanging up my bike in the garage, I felt a feeling of relief wash over me.
"Thank god that's over."
But it's another week. And there's more work to do. Onward.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Monthly numbers
That's the end of February. It went quickly, which make sense. We didn't get the super-nice weather we had in January, and that wasn't altogether surprising. February is always fickle — half-cold, half-rainy, all windy.
I ended up with only 443.9 miles in February — more than 300 miles less than in January. Some of that is weather, some of that is scheduling. I still only had 3.5 hours on the trainer, which means there were a few days off in there. Today, unfortunately, will be another one — I'm at home with the kids again.
I had two cans of pop in February, making it three for the year. I had one on Tuesday and it was awesome. I regret nothing. Last year at this time, I was drinking three cans a week. I'll be OK.
I ended up with only 443.9 miles in February — more than 300 miles less than in January. Some of that is weather, some of that is scheduling. I still only had 3.5 hours on the trainer, which means there were a few days off in there. Today, unfortunately, will be another one — I'm at home with the kids again.
I had two cans of pop in February, making it three for the year. I had one on Tuesday and it was awesome. I regret nothing. Last year at this time, I was drinking three cans a week. I'll be OK.
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