It's been a while. Camp Alexander race in Emporia wasn't very good. I was riding a very nice bike that belongs to Steve, but I didn't bring my A game. John Wagner brought his. At the start, Lelan (race director) asked me if I would like to start with the other groups, I said no. That put John and myself and the line alone. I passed him before we got to the single track to slow him down, and it stuck until we started lap two. He flew by and I never saw him again. I was all over the place. It was also very hot. But second out of two still places for a prize.
Rapture in Misery, located at Crowder State Park, Trenton, MO, was a blast of a race. I'll have pics and more commentary on that shortly.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Training in the West
Well, I put some time into getting used to the borrowed bike. It will really be pleasent to ride a bike so much like mine for the race this weekend. I rode several laps at Camp Alexander both days this weekend. I did poke the back tire once, the stans sealed it pretty fast though, sorry Steve.
This week, I am travelling the abyss of western Kansas. I did bring my rickety road bike, and have found a couple of evenings free for rides lasting 1.5 hours. Monday, I logged 27 miles, and today 30. Both days have had some wind, as is customary for this region, and I wouldn't expect anything less. I actually plan my route around which direction the wind blows.
Monday, with the east wind, I headed east. Taking it easy through town is kind of a warm up, then the highway is the place to pound the pedals. I went east about 10 miles to a vacant (and I mean vacant) blacktop heading south, handled the crosswinds out and back and returned west into town, topping out at 35 mph or so. This was a true out and back, no mistaking the average 19.7 mph as the real deal. I did not take any supplements on this ride, only H2O.
Today, I made a bit of a loop. A sweet one at that. North East wind. I headed north east with no warm up. Two or three miles later, I took a shot of syrup, and turned straight north for the cross wind pedal mashing. After 5 miles of that, I thought the black top would end and I would have to turn back, but, alas. I left turn put the wind almost directly behind me. Bliss was mine. I think I was turning 27 mph before I found a big downhill. I cranked on them things, saw 400+ watts and 40.5 mph. I didn't know the old girl had it in her. That bike surprises me all the time. Anyway, a couple of miles later I hit the highway I should have taken back to town. But I pressed on, west that is, farther from town again, with the sun fading behind some clouds near the horizon. Not that it bothered me now, but I would soon lose daylight, and navigating Garden City at night could be its own adventure. I didn't drop below 26 on that straight and very flat road, maybe 6 miles farther west. Then the turn south found an indirect cross wind, still turning 24-25 mph to Holcomb, just west of Garden City. Now the pain. Dead head wind for 4-5 miles. I kept an eye on my watts, because the have a tendancy to drop into the wind. I kept 17. Crazy that the wind at your back and wind in your face is a 10 mph difference. When I hit town the sun was gone and the cars had their lights on, I figured that I would take the back roads away from the heavy stuff. I remembered that GC has a paved walking trail so I found that, and rode safely back to the hotel.
My legs still burn from the 21.4 mph average of the training portion of the ride. 25 miles in 1 hour and 10 minutes is harder than I worked for the DK, I think. Average wattage: 241
This week, I am travelling the abyss of western Kansas. I did bring my rickety road bike, and have found a couple of evenings free for rides lasting 1.5 hours. Monday, I logged 27 miles, and today 30. Both days have had some wind, as is customary for this region, and I wouldn't expect anything less. I actually plan my route around which direction the wind blows.
Monday, with the east wind, I headed east. Taking it easy through town is kind of a warm up, then the highway is the place to pound the pedals. I went east about 10 miles to a vacant (and I mean vacant) blacktop heading south, handled the crosswinds out and back and returned west into town, topping out at 35 mph or so. This was a true out and back, no mistaking the average 19.7 mph as the real deal. I did not take any supplements on this ride, only H2O.
Today, I made a bit of a loop. A sweet one at that. North East wind. I headed north east with no warm up. Two or three miles later, I took a shot of syrup, and turned straight north for the cross wind pedal mashing. After 5 miles of that, I thought the black top would end and I would have to turn back, but, alas. I left turn put the wind almost directly behind me. Bliss was mine. I think I was turning 27 mph before I found a big downhill. I cranked on them things, saw 400+ watts and 40.5 mph. I didn't know the old girl had it in her. That bike surprises me all the time. Anyway, a couple of miles later I hit the highway I should have taken back to town. But I pressed on, west that is, farther from town again, with the sun fading behind some clouds near the horizon. Not that it bothered me now, but I would soon lose daylight, and navigating Garden City at night could be its own adventure. I didn't drop below 26 on that straight and very flat road, maybe 6 miles farther west. Then the turn south found an indirect cross wind, still turning 24-25 mph to Holcomb, just west of Garden City. Now the pain. Dead head wind for 4-5 miles. I kept an eye on my watts, because the have a tendancy to drop into the wind. I kept 17. Crazy that the wind at your back and wind in your face is a 10 mph difference. When I hit town the sun was gone and the cars had their lights on, I figured that I would take the back roads away from the heavy stuff. I remembered that GC has a paved walking trail so I found that, and rode safely back to the hotel.
My legs still burn from the 21.4 mph average of the training portion of the ride. 25 miles in 1 hour and 10 minutes is harder than I worked for the DK, I think. Average wattage: 241
Thursday, July 9, 2009
It may seem crazy, but I'm out of shape compared to all these dudes. This was the '09 Larned 4th-of -July triathlon. The three fella's on the left, and one on the right, all kicked my tail. Shows you that age is a nasty thing (and sloth).
Some other news: My podium is back at the factory getting some necessary strength additions. So a good friend of mine, Steve Dutton, is letting me borrow his Gary Fisher Ferrous and wheels. It was a big stinker to notice the Podium flaw at the beginning of a big, biking weekend. Steve and I had gone down to Roman Nose Resort State Park, at Watonga, OK. Lap two of what could have been 7 or 8, we found the issue. So we began tagging off on Steve's bike (gears AND suspension). It felt weird to say the least. But now that I'm back on a single speed rigid, I feel more at home. I plan to be in Emporia this weekend, and ride it as much as the trails and locals allow.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
D. K.
I feel like Garret, having a blog site and blogging once a year.
Dirty Kanza had me very nervous, I got butterflies weeks before the race. I couldn't sleep the night before (even though I hear that's normal, it's never happened to me), and was the lightest, and cleanest, I've been for years. Garret(t) made some sweet egg-filled pita pockets for breakfast and we headed for the start line. As we started, I could already tell it was going to be a whale of a day, as we travelled south we hit the wind. Forty miles later, we finally turned north(ish) to get away from the direct head-wind. We still had to put high effort into the west as the wind was relentless, but north was at least tollerable. I found Steve and Liz Heal within a few miles of the first checkpoint, and took the time to chat with them.
At the first checkpoint, I was already famished for a day of cycling, so I spread out in the shade of a big tree (something I hadn't seen for 61 miles). I took my sweet time getting the water refilled and the pain killer meds taken. I watched Steve and Liz speed away, no hard feelings there, those two would live to finish the race. As I left the checkpoint, I lolly-gagged for quite some time, fiddled with my headphones and just tried to regain some strength. At mile 71, I resorted to napping under another shade tree along-side the road. I would wave at the passing cyclists to let them know that I was still alive.
After 30 minutes or so, I remounted and trudged on. I came upon some dudes from Tennessee not ten minutes later. They were friends that had travelled together, and were resting for a rider in there group. They recognized me as the roadside-sleeper. We continued as a group at a descently slow pace, until we were ten miles from the 100 mile checkpoint. At which point, I left them, as they were going to continue waiting on their wasted compadre. I was running a little low on water, as we had just experienced the peak temp for the day, and the wind wasn't cooling in any way. Rolling into midway, I felt better than I had all day. So, upon arrival, when I heard that there wasn't a single Emporia rider still on the course, I was a bit dissappointed. I was so looking forward to riding with someone I knew for additional suffering.
Jenna and her parents cheered me on as I downed some Subway and coaxed a rider from Iowa to press on. Which we did. We rode ten miles, rested for ten minutes, and repeated the process. Until we arrived in Alma, Ks.
It was closing in on the cutoff, and 9 o'clock, when I decided not to kill myself anymore. Luckily, I had prearranged for Jenna to be there with my pickup. So that made the decision easier. They told us there, that only 20 riders, out of the original 85, had left the checkpoint and attempted to finish. The two fellas that I was riding with and myself, were officially the last to come into the final checkpoint.
The sky darkened quickly as we drove back to E-town, which took a full hour by car. I couldn't imagine what I would have morfed into if I had attempted the ride. At the finish line, Jim Cummins (race coordinator) shared enthusiasm and concern, as he had only seen two riders finish the race. It would end up that 15 of the 85 starters would cross the line. It was encouraging to hear that only three single-speeders had travelled farther than me on the course. My friends and support crew (Jenna) made it clear that they were proud of my attempt. I wish to thank them all, including Jim and Joel.
Weeks later, I have still been shy to jump back on the bike. I ran a 5 mile race in Salina the following weekend, and did well: 53:11 equal to 7.02 minutes/mile. Steve Dutton and I are headed down to Roman Nose (the sweetest Oklahoma trail that lives) this weekend.
Dirty Kanza had me very nervous, I got butterflies weeks before the race. I couldn't sleep the night before (even though I hear that's normal, it's never happened to me), and was the lightest, and cleanest, I've been for years. Garret(t) made some sweet egg-filled pita pockets for breakfast and we headed for the start line. As we started, I could already tell it was going to be a whale of a day, as we travelled south we hit the wind. Forty miles later, we finally turned north(ish) to get away from the direct head-wind. We still had to put high effort into the west as the wind was relentless, but north was at least tollerable. I found Steve and Liz Heal within a few miles of the first checkpoint, and took the time to chat with them.
At the first checkpoint, I was already famished for a day of cycling, so I spread out in the shade of a big tree (something I hadn't seen for 61 miles). I took my sweet time getting the water refilled and the pain killer meds taken. I watched Steve and Liz speed away, no hard feelings there, those two would live to finish the race. As I left the checkpoint, I lolly-gagged for quite some time, fiddled with my headphones and just tried to regain some strength. At mile 71, I resorted to napping under another shade tree along-side the road. I would wave at the passing cyclists to let them know that I was still alive.
After 30 minutes or so, I remounted and trudged on. I came upon some dudes from Tennessee not ten minutes later. They were friends that had travelled together, and were resting for a rider in there group. They recognized me as the roadside-sleeper. We continued as a group at a descently slow pace, until we were ten miles from the 100 mile checkpoint. At which point, I left them, as they were going to continue waiting on their wasted compadre. I was running a little low on water, as we had just experienced the peak temp for the day, and the wind wasn't cooling in any way. Rolling into midway, I felt better than I had all day. So, upon arrival, when I heard that there wasn't a single Emporia rider still on the course, I was a bit dissappointed. I was so looking forward to riding with someone I knew for additional suffering.
Jenna and her parents cheered me on as I downed some Subway and coaxed a rider from Iowa to press on. Which we did. We rode ten miles, rested for ten minutes, and repeated the process. Until we arrived in Alma, Ks.
It was closing in on the cutoff, and 9 o'clock, when I decided not to kill myself anymore. Luckily, I had prearranged for Jenna to be there with my pickup. So that made the decision easier. They told us there, that only 20 riders, out of the original 85, had left the checkpoint and attempted to finish. The two fellas that I was riding with and myself, were officially the last to come into the final checkpoint.
The sky darkened quickly as we drove back to E-town, which took a full hour by car. I couldn't imagine what I would have morfed into if I had attempted the ride. At the finish line, Jim Cummins (race coordinator) shared enthusiasm and concern, as he had only seen two riders finish the race. It would end up that 15 of the 85 starters would cross the line. It was encouraging to hear that only three single-speeders had travelled farther than me on the course. My friends and support crew (Jenna) made it clear that they were proud of my attempt. I wish to thank them all, including Jim and Joel.
Weeks later, I have still been shy to jump back on the bike. I ran a 5 mile race in Salina the following weekend, and did well: 53:11 equal to 7.02 minutes/mile. Steve Dutton and I are headed down to Roman Nose (the sweetest Oklahoma trail that lives) this weekend.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Prepare!
Well... nose to the grindstone, you might say. I've been building up to the big race (NEXT WEEKEND!). My training peaked a couple weeks ago, when Garret the Fuzz man Seacat and I went out for 89 miles. There was some suffering on my part when I mixed simple and complex sugars (big cramps). We finished in the rain, after many futile attempts to go south, only to be stiffled by the flooding.
This weekend we logged thirty or so, 17+ mpg average should be a speed building ride. I know that I could never pedal that hard during the race. In fact, my plan is to gear down one cog. I'll be pushing a 38:17 ratio for the day. They say the hills are packed to the gills. I might be in for a doosy. I've gotten myself into a nervous wreck already. But I feel way more prepared for the race than in years passed. Hopefully I can continue to say that as the years roll on.
I'll let you know how it goes.
This weekend we logged thirty or so, 17+ mpg average should be a speed building ride. I know that I could never pedal that hard during the race. In fact, my plan is to gear down one cog. I'll be pushing a 38:17 ratio for the day. They say the hills are packed to the gills. I might be in for a doosy. I've gotten myself into a nervous wreck already. But I feel way more prepared for the race than in years passed. Hopefully I can continue to say that as the years roll on.
I'll let you know how it goes.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Fat Tire
Totally a great weekend, pack filled with comradery and cycling gallore. I'm a little sore the day after a 15 mile single track, single speed race. Held at Lake Wilson State Park, the race had many classes, Cam took the expert class lickety split, with Mike Marshon (different age bracket) second overall. The single speed race included the victor, Jon Wagner from Salina, took me by severall minutes. Which puts me at fourth overall (unofficial). Another expert from Salina showed up just before single speeder Dave Nily from Great Bend rolled in to round off the class. I'm not sure who finished the other places.
My race started, standing beside Jon. We rolled out side by side. I entered the single track before Jon and started picking the sport class people off before the first climb. Then it was hard to tell who I was passing. I started recognizing some of the riders, that had entered the expert class. This was a big boost. I was still feeling strong and could see that I had a steady gap on Jon. As we hit the second half of the lap, I didn't see Jon anymore and was still catching experts. Bill Klinesmith and Chris Chambers were really helpfull with their encouragement as I slowly got by them. Then it seemed like smooth sailing, as I rode alone for several miles of fun stuff. I had no idea that with only 2 miles of trail left, Jon would show up close on my heals. I had just dismounted to run up a switch-back, when I looked back to see his jersey not more than 50 feet behind me. I quickly remounted the bike and chug up the rest of the hill, only to find myself gasping for air. It seemed that he had literally startled me, and now my calm pace was ruined, I tried to turn on a bit more pace as I knew it could be a fight to the finish. My chest was on FIRE. I gave him some encouraging words, holding back the anguish that I felt. He passed me 100 yards before the last pavement crossing, so when we came up to it, there was a crowd that exclamed "Wow, that's a RACE!" Next was the hill climb that we had completed the day before, but during the approach, the downhill switch-back caught me off guard. I tried to correct and get back on course, only to roll my tire and let some air out, like a fart. Jon even asked if I was alright, as I had gone down right behind him. I quickly remounted and tried to ignore the yells from the crowd, as they had seen me spill with only 1.5 to go. I climbed the hill with a very low tire, and realized quickly that there would be no finishing if I didn't get some air in there. I pulled over with choice word in my head, and popped an entire CO2 cartridge in there. Knowing I wouldn't catch him, I pedalled the last mile or so at brisk pace, bouncing my front end off of every rock and grass patch in my way. I'm tossing that tire as soon as I can. After the race there was much congratulations in the parking lot.
One of my best days in 2009, hands down. After all, I got to see all my Emporia friends. And my girlfriend is the best support crew a guy could ask for.
Monday, March 23, 2009
More... more!
Since the race, I've been struggling to get in some training. I hit the river this weekend, and did a trainer session last week, but that's it. I feel as though I am missing out on some building of the muscles that grew up this winter. I'm not sure how my season will look as far as personal bests this year, but I feel like every ride makes it easier to PR, espessially when riding behind the Doug monster.
I'll be in Emporia this weekend, looking for a long ride on saturday. I'm going out into the hills whether my friends will pull me around or not. So long as they don't drop me, it should be a good time.
I'll be in Emporia this weekend, looking for a long ride on saturday. I'm going out into the hills whether my friends will pull me around or not. So long as they don't drop me, it should be a good time.
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