RAIN REVELATION

     The bike I purchased twenty-five years ago continues to serve me well, but strictly as my "trainer-bike."  I occasionally lube the chain, had the bottom bracket serviced around 2010 (or maybe 2008, who's counting), and actually had to change a tire a few years ago.  I bring this up because it has been overly used these last two weeks, since we have had rain every day (except yesterday) since returning from Germany.
     Years ago I had a Chris Carmichael Time Trial tape to give structure to my training.  The tape has long since worn out, but I still follow the regimen.  Up to a point.  It seems I am very comfortable at 84 RPM, but knocking out 90 takes a lot of effort.  It is a constant battle, one I lose unless extremely motivated.  The bike is not equipped to show cadence, so I use the old-fashioned way: counting strokes.  Fifteen strokes in ten seconds gives me 90 RPM.  I hit fourteen on a regular basis.
     This year I added a high-cadence portion to my work-out: three sets of 110 RPM.  I started at ten seconds and have moved up to thirty and the plan is to see what happens once I get to one minute.  But accurately counting strokes and accelerating is a chore.  Indeed, the other day I did twenty strokes, for 120 RPM.  I wasn't sure of my count, but even being one off still achieved the goal.
     Then a stroke of genius: use my road bike, equipped with cadence.  All I had to do was change out the quick-release (it didn't fit the trainer) and I could monitor my stroke count with just a glance at the computer.  All went well as I warmed up.  But on my first five-minute interval my cadence moved between 78 and 80.  I knew my legs were a tad "loggy" but it felt like my normal 84.  For the second interval, even with the computer, I counted strokes.  Like clockwork for the entire five minutes: 14.  Not good.  Same thing for the third interval.  Pook ding-fu!  My computer is shorting me!!
     When I ran it up to 110, it seemed accurate.  Once I got over my shock, I had to contemplate the situation.  While I know that computers are sometimes wrong, my experience is that they do what their programming tells them to do.  The fact that it was accurate at 110/120 pointed toward me.  After all, it just counted every time it went past the magnet, which didn't move (well it does sometimes, but then I get no count at all).  Bottom line: for the last ten-plus years, I have been counting "one" when the clock hits any of the zeros, and "fourteen" when it hits the next one.  Until this week, it never occurred to me that this was thirteen strokes.
     I may have to come up a gear, but from here on out, I'll be counting sixteen.  Maybe my time trial speed will improve.  We shall see in four weeks.

EVESHAM ULTRA AND BERLIN

     I normally reserve this blog for cycling activities, so I really need to spin it this way: our two week holiday (using the British term for vacation) resulted in my being off the bike, necessitating serious training now that we're back.
     One activity on our to-do (I detest the term "bucket") list was to volunteer at son Kurt's running events.  Several years ago he left the corporate world to pursue his passion: trail running.  Yes, he does run a lot (completing the Rocky Raccoon this year), but he and wife, Nicola, started Cotswold Running.  They organize off-road long-distance races.  I refer you to their website.  His Evesham Ultra (~45 miles) on April 26 fit nicely into our calendar.
     In addition, touring Berlin has been high on Marilane's agenda for quite a while, so we cobbled the two together since we were more or less "in the neighborhood."
     Kurt met us at Heathrow after our non-stop flight from Austin.  I prefer the back seat when driving in the UK, as I tend to not jerk as much when the cars come from different directions.  Therefore most of the conversation in the two hour trip was between Marilane and Kurt.  Once we left the city, the vibrant yellow rapeseed fields held my attention.  And, I managed to stay awake.  Kurt has a small house and Nic's parents from Scotland were also volunteering and staying with them, so we stayed at the Evesham Hotel (quirky but very nice).  I mention this because in strolling between the hotel and house, we passed lovely trees in bloom.  I might also mention we managed to bring some really cold air with us, so all pictures have us well-layered.
     It doesn't matter what the goal, be it studying for a test, achieving something in business, training for an athletic event, the old maxim holds true: the harder you prepare, the easier the test (task).  In my cycling venues, when everything goes smooth as butter, I know the organizers worked their butts off in the preparation.  Same for Kurt's runs.
     Marilane and I had several chores, minor helping with check-in, then walk to the first turns to direct the runners (they had the whole course marked, but people waving in front of faces and giving encouragement is always welcome), then we had several hours off before the runners returned.  We were charged with serving refreshments in the hall while Kurt and Nic handled the finish line.  In a seven-to-ten hour race, the runners come in more or less separately.
     One of the things Kurt does is post a large map of the race course on the wall.  I didn't think much about it until he started receiving calls from runners who had missed a turn and needed to get back on course.  He knows his routes like the back of his hand and only needed for the runner to describe the surroundings before he found him on the map and directed him/her the best way to pick up the course.  Almost all of the runners did "bonus" miles.  Interestingly enough, almost all the runners praised how well the course was marked, blaming themselves for their mistakes.
     All runners accounted for, none injured; we celebrated at the pub.  Check-mark on our list.  We managed a few touristy things also.  On a visit several years ago we attended a play in Stratford-upon-Avon at the Royal Shakespeare Company (RSC).  This year we had a very interesting back-stage tour.  We also toured Hampton Court, another place on Marilane's list of things to see.  Then it was a flight to Berlin.
     Marilane had booked us a private guide to take us around town to important spots and explain history.  We learn so much more on a private tour.  Our first act upon checking in was to purchase five-day transit passes.  These are good on all the trains, trams, and buses within the city, and Potsdam.  I loved not messing with paying each time we got on.  Highlights of the trip included the Jewish Quarter, the

Wall, Museum Island (including Nefertiti and the gate of Ishtar) the Reichstag building, a trip to the palace in Potsdam and in the other direction, attended a choral concert at the  Cistercian Kloster Chorin.  We took a blah river cruise of the city. We also ran across a May Day protest march (several groups, mostly labor).  We didn't have time for several other museums, found a great vegan restaurant.
     The train drivers (are they really still called engineers?) called a strike for 3pm Tuesday.  I lost track of the day, so we took several unnecessary taxi rides on Monday.  Tuesday afternoon we flew to London, stayed overnight and came home Wednesday.  Here it is Sunday and I'm still not over jet-lag.

 

 

TEXAS SENIOR GAMES 2015

     The format for San Antonio is always the same: Saturday morning is the 10km time trial followed about an hour later by the 20km road race and Sunday has a 5km time trial followed by a 40km road race.  First racer is off at 9 am, and this year the last one left around 10:25 am.  The venue is about a two hour drive from home and I choose to drive back and forth each day.  Actually, I tried staying over once but prefer sleeping in my own bed and having home-cooked meals.  This means I hit the road a bit before 6 am.
     We caught a break with the weather on Saturday, with storms on Thursday and Friday clearing out just in time.  The humidity was up but for the first time in years, the wind was down.  Expectations were low for MY event, the 10k or longer time trial.  In the last ten years I've only been off the podium once (2008) when racing against my own age group in Texas.  But my friend Bill Corty turned 70 and is is much faster than me, my fast friend Bill Earp is once again attending (but he is from Missouri), and another person is new to the age group and has posted better credentials.  Several others are close and with my lack of training sessions, I could be looking at 5th place.
     The Texas Research Park is a roughly two and a half mile circuit, with a back-side hill (incline).  For the time trial we do one complete circuit plus an out-and-back.  It is a great venue.  After checking in and doing social amenities with the other guys, I completed my 30-minute warm-up and prepared to race.  For the first time, San Antonio had chip timing.  Great improvement.  I could see that the holders were inexperienced.  At least not as bad as last year when the holder forgot to let go.  There is very little strategy in time trials, you go as hard as you can for as long as you can.  There are only two 90-degree turns, both wide.  The asphalt was still a little wet on one and there were patches of mud on the other, necessitating some caution.
     As it turned out, I happily managed to come in third behind the two Bills.  Since I started my computer about 15 seconds before the start and hit it again 5-10 seconds after, I'm thinking my actual time was a hair under 17 minutes.  I can say top speed was 31.4 and average 21.2 and my heart rate was in zone five for nine minutes and nine seconds.  All but 19 seconds were in zone four or five.  I used a lot of gears going up the back-side hill the second time.
     For the road race, I change wheels, since my Zipps are much faster than the Rolfs.  A lot of liquid, Clif Bars, and resting followed.  Generally I skip the 20k road race and just do the 40k, but because I only do these for the training and my training this year has been sparse, I joined in.  On the third of five laps Bob jumped at the start of the hill, the others followed and I managed to hang on.  Back together.  He jumped again at the same place, with the same result.  On the fifth lap I had to wave good-bye.  At least they were still in sight at the finish line.  Sixth place; not last.
     Sunday was much of the same, but the corners were dry and Bill Corty skipped the time trial.  Bill Earp only beat me by four seconds.  My top speed was 31.9 and average 19.7 (average speed is off since I started the computer a minute early).  Of the 8:11 it took to complete the course,  I spent 5:11 in zone 5 and 2:45 in zone 4.
     I had no illusions for the 40k and hoped they would putter around for the first five laps before getting serious.  No such luck.  Same guy jumped at the same place on lap three, drawing the two fastest guys with him.  Me and my friend Fred were a bit late, but gave chase, leaving the others behind.  We were about fifteen seconds behind and around a slight curve when we saw two guys on the ground.  It seems one guy (Bob) touched wheels with the one in front (Tom) and went down and Bill Corty was the third guy who couldn't avoid the crash.  Bill had a flat tire and Bob spent some time with Medical.  Tom continued on and built on his lead, while Fred and I tried our best to catch up.
     Actually, we tried to not let anyone behind catch us, since we now were sitting second and third.  On the next lap, going up the hill we came upon a large guy who had been dropped from his younger age group.  We don't follow USAC rules, so I latched on to his back wheel, with Fred behind me.  He was a bit slower going up, but really motored on the flats and downhills and was super in blocking the wind, which today was much stronger than yesterday.  Fred and I rode him for four laps until he finally gave it up on the hill.  About that time, Bob came by, having latched on to a small group of fast, young guys.  Dang!  We tried to hang with them, but they quickly left us behind.
    On lap nine I finally gave up the ghost on the hill and waved Fred on.  The quads were complaining as was my breathing.  I suffered through the last lap and only finished about thirty seconds behind Fred.  Well, I didn't expect to medal in this race, but fourth wasn't so bad.  It was only after we were sitting around the cars winding down and packing up that Jaime said Bob was two laps down because of getting patched up, not the one lap we had figured.  So Fred garnered silver and I came home with a bronze.  Purely lagniappe as far as I'm concerned.
     Stats for the 40k: Heart Rate Zone 5 - 20:32; Zone 4 - 51:27, quite a workout for an old guy.  Top speed of 35.1 with an average of 18.6.  The back-side hill low speed was 14 mph for the first three laps, 12 mph for the next four, and 10 mph for the last three.  The top speed for the first three laps was 28 mph, but for the next four it was 30 mph, then it dropped to 27 except I pushed it up to 30 for the finish.
     Make no mistake, I like to race.  But my main cycling focus is taking bike vacations.  I have three bike trips and two non-bike tours lined up for this year.  It crimps my training a bit, but I keep reminding myself racing is secondary.  When I tout that "I'm the fastest man in Texas" it is with my tongue firmly in my cheek.  I cycle for fun, with medals more a witness to my health than to prowess in racing.

BICYCLE SAFETY

     Our Sunday ride leader always, always stresses safety before each ride.  At the beginning of April a cyclist was descending a steep hill when a pickup truck made a left turn in front of him, resulting in his death.  We are encouraged to have a flashing strobe light on the front (as well as the back) whenever we ride, day or night.  This reminded me of an article I read years ago, and thanks to my search engine, I found one which makes the same point.
     If you don't care to read this (but it is enlightening), I'll give you the short version: unless we train our brains to recognize cyclists, it takes longer to "see" them, sometimes never seeing them.  In the article I remember, the point was the brain will interpret a cyclist as a tree or stop sign because we are more vertical than say, a car.  Of course, our brains are trained but it isn't us who we are worried about.
     Therefore it is incumbent on us, the cyclists, to do whatever we can to make ourselves visible: bright colors, hand (full hand, please) and arm horizontal movements, reflective clothing, and flashing lights are some of the things that come to mind.  Being respectful of traffic lights and stop signs are another.
     Your actions have consequences.  For instance, running a stop sign might trigger a negative reaction in a vehicle, who might react against the next cyclist he sees.  Give a good example ALL the time.
     Years ago, when I was training for my coast-to-coast trip, part of my Sunday ride included Bee Cave Road.  Those familiar with the area know that with the wind behind you, going down the hill toward Weston Lane can generate 40 mph or more (still less than the vehicle speed limit).  On such a morning I approached Weston in excess of 35 mph when a pickup left the stop sign in front of me.  I braked and did a hard right but unfortunately rolled my tire off the rim and went down hard.  I had my Camelbak to break the fall but still it took a few minutes before I could move.  While laying in the middle of Weston Lane I saw the pickup continue east.  I guess his conscience got the better of him, in that he circled back around to check on me.  Nothing broken, only a few scrapes, thanks to the Camelbak and my helmet.  Oh yeah, the driver was a cyclist on his way to his Sunday ride.
     My other vehicle accident involved a pickup that rolled a stop sign.  I had the right of way, saw him and saw him slow to the stop sign.  Unfortunately, I was obstructed by his windshield post, and he didn't come to a complete stop and accelerated.  His left front fender connected with my front wheel.  Again, Camelbak and helmet saved the body.  He did have to replace my front wheel.
     Be safe.  Be alert.  Do what you can to be seen.  And remember, it doesn't do you any good to be dead right.

HAMMERFEST: 2 OUT OF 3

     Usually when I go two out of three, it is two first-place finishes and a second.  But then, that usually refers to short time trials.  It also refers to opponents who are in the 70+ age category.  I had no illusions when I signed up for Hammerfest (out in west Texas, Fort Davis to be precise).  The category was 60+ and all of the guys were ten to twelve years younger than me, plus it was all road racing.  But, my friend, Tom Cole, had been telling me about it for several years so I took the opportunity to get in a week-end of hard training.
     The agenda consisted of a fourteen-mile hill climb, which actually was ten miles of flat-ish riding with a few bumps before the steeper part (the younger groups had an additional two miles of really tough climbing) on Saturday morning and an eighteen mile race Saturday afternoon.  The afternoon race was flat for two and a half miles, then a right turn and a steady low-grade (2-4%) climb for the next fourteen and a half.  Or maybe an extra mile.  My computer only registered seventeen miles.  The Sunday morning ride was a forty-nine mile loop with an abundance of climbing.
     Since this is a cycling blog, I'll only mention we went to Marfa and Alpine on successive evenings, for a quick look and dinner (Paisano Hotel and Reata Restaurant, both very nice and accommodating my plant-based diet).

     Saturday morning was chilly.  I should be thankful for 47 degrees, it was 32 Friday morning.  But this is west Texas so we started at 47 and ended at 77 degrees an hour and a half later.  I don't have accurate stats, in that half-way through the computer turned itself off and it looks like I missed over a mile before catching it.  Anyhow, I stayed with the group for thirteen minutes before they lost me on one of the bumps.  They were doing team tactics from the start, with multiple accelerations and slowings, and that last one got me.  I settled into a rhythm and enjoyed the scenery until getting to the heavy climbing, when I concentrated more on just getting up the road.  My average speed was 8 mph, but that doesn't include the faster, missed portion.  To use a cycling term, my legs felt "blocked."  Absolutely little push in them.  Uphill, against the wind.  It wasn't fun.
     We lunched at the surprisingly very nice deli, and I rested for the afternoon race.  This time we had strong wind that would be in our face for about fifteen miles.  That sort of worked in my favor, in that I could tuck in behind some big bodies and they couldn't make a really strong break because of the wind.  They once again did some accelerations but not as strong or long as in the morning.  On one acceleration I got caught out and immediately dropped.  At least I stayed with them for six miles.  

Once on my own, cursing the wind, I settled into an 80 rpm cadence.  I dropped my water bottle and had to stop.  That cost me catching a second dropped rider with whom I had hoped to share wind-breaking duties.  It was only about thirty seconds, but I couldn't go any faster.  Again, my legs were less than optimum.  Overall, I averaged 12.5 mph, but once I lost the peloton it was more like 10.
     Given the profile of the Sunday race, its length, the high wind, and being beaten up by the wind and hills on Saturday, I decided to eschew riding on Sunday, and we drove home instead.  I have a few weeks before State time trials to get my act together.  We will see how that goes.

POST MORTEM - FLAT

     I almost always do a fact-finding mission when I have a flat.  While flats are few and far between, I want to know, if possible, the actual cause.  Several times I've had valve failure, several times a vicious staple did me in.  I'll start at the beginning, which was the first Tuesday Night group ride out of the Bicycle Sport Shop Research store.  This is an intermediate group, which means I need my A game to keep up.
     The "highlight" of the ride is the Strava (I don't "do" Strava but merely mention it descriptively) strip on Spicewood Springs Road.

 While not in full competitive mode, I stepped it up a bit, and unfortunately hit a few potholes (small) that I normally would have avoided.  I cannot say for sure what caused the tire to lose air.  And, truthfully, it may not have been there or on Loop 360 as we headed back to the store.  In any case, at 360 and 183 I stopped to change the front tire, waving on the group since we were only about a mile from the end.  I quickly (for me, about ten minutes) changed the tube, used the compressed air cartridge to speed me along, and rode to the store.  Everything got tossed in the car.
     This morning, I brought the tire and the old tube to the kitchen to see the cause of my problem.  A sink full of water revealed the leak site.  I had not seen this type of failure before.  While it was a single pin-hole, it appeared as though something had scraped the tube before the actual puncture.
     As everyone knows, compressed air seeps through the tubes quicker than air-pump air, so I pulled out the new tube and did a thorough study of the tire, both inside and out, finding nothing out of the ordinary.  Tire and new tube are back ready for our noon ride.

I'll take the opportunity to repeat what I've written several times before: when you have a flat and are changing out the tube, take the extra time to examine the inside and outside of the tire before installing the new tube.  It only takes a minute and can save you puncturing a new tube because the wire or piece of glass is still in the tire.  By the way, I recommend a visual exam before blindly running your fingers around the tire.  Putting a hole in your finger is a bad idea.

ANOTHER RE-ACQUAINTANCE: ROLLERS

     Yesterday a few friends posted about rollers.  My input consisted of saying I had unused rollers hanging in the garage.  Other than a few days last year, the rollers had been replaced by the trainer.  But, in the interest of instruction, I dragged them into the kitchen this morning (not wishing to get out in the cold and damp), and that was/will be my workout for today.
     I started out without the camera on, just in case of disaster.  It wasn't a disaster but I quickly found out it takes a few minutes to become adjusted to holding a straight line and pedaling smoothly.  I also deemed the rear tire to be sadly under-inflated.  So, I aired up the tire to be properly hard, started the camera, and began my instructional video.
     In no particular order of importance: 1) Be sure to brake the front wheel when doing the awkward mount/dismount; 2) Cadence should be above 80, better if 90 rpm; 3) Start with a gear where you don't need a lot of pressure; 4) Have something to hold on to until you are comfortably pedaling.

 The video lasts two and a half minutes.  After stopping the camera I did another fifteen. 

 

Rollers really are a great way to get you balanced and pedaling equally with each leg.  You will start out looking at the front wheel, but as you progress your gaze should be out five, ten, twenty feet.  If you stick with it long enough, you can remove one hand.  I'm not gutsy enough to go hands-free.