A very crashy Tour

A 3-day weekend of riding and waking up early to watch the Tour de France reminds me that it's time for my annual Tour post. After all the hype & endless repeating of the Lance vs. Contador feud from the 2009 Tour, July 2010 is finally here. On Saturday the Prologue began in Rotterdam, proving to be no surprise that world champion time trialist (and hot Swiss guy) Fabian Cancellara needed no motor in his bike to crush everyone's time. Resplendent in yellow, and congratulated by Eddy Merckx, Fabian and the rest of the field rolled out today on Stage 2. But wait! I forgot all about Stage 1. What a mess. As all the teams fought to get their leadout men to bring their sprinters to the front, the twisty turns to the finish resulted in total chaos. First Adam Hansen and Mark Cavendish were caught up in a crash on a sweeping right turn, and then as everyone wound up within 1k of the finish, a massive pileup ensued. Caught up in the melee was well, pretty much the entire peloton. Poor Tyler Farrar had his rear derailleur torn off by locking up with the bike of an AG2R rider, who did not seem happy about that at all. A stage win by an American sprinter on the fourth of July would have been sweet. I'm sure Tyler could have achieved that goal had it not been for the craziness resulting in the massive crash. As it turns out, once again Alessandro Petacchi emerged from the chaos unscathed to storm across the line, much the same way he did in the Tour de Suisse when Cavendish and Haussler were caught up in a crash.

Anyway back to stage 2, Brussels to Spa. What seemed like a decent entry to the Ardennes ended up being absolute carnage. I've read the tweets, the blogs, and the articles, seen the videos, and watched the coverage on Versus. Apparently a moto crashed trying to avoid a fallen rider, and resulted in oil being spilled all over the road. This turned the descent of the Stockeu until "complete and utter chaos" with riders all over the road. Seeing the pictures of torn jerseys, bloodied faces, elbows and legs, just makes me ache. These guys, at least the ones who have not had positive x-rays for broken bones (Christian Vandevelde has 2 broken ribs and is out of the Tour) will be at the starting line tomorrow. Even Lance has road rash from a crash. Most of the GC guys hit the deck today at least once.

So I'm basically just rehashing everything that has already been broadcast and written. And there are some saying that this type of course should be reserved for the Spring classics and has no place in the Tour (Chris Horner, for one). I would have to agree. The Tour is difficult enough every year, why make it even more treacherous than it already is? These guys are away from their families, train for years to be there, spend every night in hotels, ride over 100 miles a day and burn thousands of calories. I for one don't want to see them bloodied and injured on the roads, that doesn't make it more exciting. What makes it more exciting is the suffering sure - but suffering like seeing a break that actually makes it to the finish, like Sylvain Chavanel's courageous ride today. That man deserves to be inyellow. Suffering like the contorted face of Jens Voight fighting to bring his teammates back to the main group after the crash. Suffering like the consecutive leadout men who pull off when their job is done and hope their sprinter is the first across the line.

I will get up at 5:30am to watch the Tour each day, then read about it on Twitter and all the internet articles, then watch it again in the evening. I'll talk about it with anyone who knows enough about cycling but I won't tolerate anyone who thinks that the Tour is easy. It's a pure sufferfest.

It sure makes it hard to predict any winners from the GC contenders with this type of start to the Tour. I do think that Lance will do well on the Pave' tomorrow, as will all the teams whose main guys ride the Spring classics. I wish Tom Boonen was there, as he'd really love it, even after his losses to Cancellara in both Flanders and Roubaix this year. He's Belgian, he lives for the cobbles. Contador may dance on his pedals and fly up the climbs but I don't see him doing well on the bone-jarring cobbles. I hope to hell it doesn't rain though, or it will be a total mess.

Daydreaming

Some blue skies would be nice! Maybe a few puffy clouds thrown in just for texture?

New Zealand

I am planning to go in October, no matter what - but at this point I don't believe the minimum of 10 needed for the group rates on the trip have signed up. Details of the trip are here - have a look.

I know it's expensive, and it's a big commitment which is exactly why I'm planning to go. I need something big, something HUGE, something totally out of reach and seemingly impossible to prove to myself that I can do it - save the money, make the sacrifices, do the training, do the planning, take the time off and travel halfway around the world, to another timezone, another day, and enjoy the culture of another country. So, I'm in.

Are you?

my version of spring fever

Really, pro cycling? The Giro d'Italia and Tour of California both in May? How can you do this to me? I knew this would happen when I heard about it last year, but I didn't realize how much it would wreak havoc on my attention span. In previous years, it was all about catching whatever news I could find about the Giro, but now it's everywhere - live feed, recorded stages on the DVR, blogs, and Twitter. I can barely keep up. It's not so much about watching the day's stage as reading the entertaining blog updates (such as the one @BikesnobNYC is writing for Universal Sports). So, after the ToC officially begins, will sleep really be necessary? I may have to re-prioritize. It's only May.

It's these 70+ degree days that make me wish I wasn't indoors at the office or inside a car on the way to & from work, but rather navigating stoplights, train tracks and car traffic commuting to work. On weekends, I enjoy the long rides on west side country roads, but during the late Spring and Summer, I feel guilty sometimes commuting by car. But people typically understand why I don't do it very often when I admit that I live in Hillsboro and work on the east side, and the one way ride, while not even 20 miles, takes over an hour. And I frequently have errands to run, meetings to attend, or somewhere to go after work, which require a car. So, there you have it. Convenient, yet sensible excuses. Right?

I do look forward to being able to plan ahead, organize my schedule, and hop on the Max in the morning, work my (+/-)8 hours, and then hop on the bike for a leisurely ride home in the evening. I'll gladly ride up Washington Park and beside the zoo, along 26, and mostly downhill through Beaverton neighborhoods to get home, where I can relax and enjoy the rest of the evening.

Soon.

Is it just me, or does it feel like Fall?

Been a while since I posted anything. Haven't been riding much outdoors, so I guess that's why. Other than a few sunny Saturdays, I have lacked motivation, or time, or both. So I'm now going to "ride with power" computrainer class on Wed. evenings. It's a good workout, much better than the one I'd do at home on the couch. I have every intention of riding either my newly-purchased CycleOps Comp 200e or my own bike on rollers (like I did while watching the Tour of Flanders last Sunday), but I don't. Not sure why. Doesn't make sense to complain about my lack of fitness and then go home and practice my couch luge form, does it?

Speaking of the Ronde van Vlaanderen (Flanders), what an amazing explosive acceleration by the Fabulous Fabian (aka "Spartacus") Cancellara on the Muur to splinter the legs of Tom Boonen. Fabian didn't even get up out of the saddle. Fireworks on the Muur.

At least I managed to clean the rest of the Kruger-mud off my mountain bike, clean the chain and put new pedals on, and put the new Selle san Marco saddle on my road bike. But did I ride? Umm....

It just feels like fall to me. It was Spring, briefly, and the clouds gave way to sunny weather, but now they are back. I am chilled more often than not, and wearing sweaters & cords to work, wearing fleece around the house. But it's April! I should know, having lived in Oregon for so many years, that Spring weather can be unpredictable and cannot be blamed for anything, nor can it be used as an excuse for mood fluctuations. I don't like to complain about the weather, but I can observe what effect it has on my moods.

I need goals. I still haven't thought much about PIR, don't feel like I'm all that enthused about it. I have to find some way to gain confidence, something to work towards that is more specific than "get into better shape" or "not be overweight and unhappy". Riding on Saturdays is clearly not enough.

There are a few rides on the calendar that I'd like to do. Coming up: Monster Cookie metric on April 26, always a fun (though flat) ride, the first organized one of the season (since I usually skip the Worst Day ride). Talking to my friends in Bend about doing the PPP (Pole Pedal Paddle) May 15, which would mean skipping Reach the Beach. Then there's a few centuries here & there, maybe the Pioneer, since I haven't ridden that in a few years. The Portland Century is a tough one! Maybe Crater Lake again, since I bought a new tent.

Cycle Oregon is up in the air at this point. I've already paid & registered, so I'd lose $100 if I cancelled before the end of August. But - there might be a more exciting trip in the plans. TWO WEEKS IN NEW ZEALAND. In October. That's SPRING cycling. Organized by none other than Heidi Swift.

The planning has begun. I'm already scheming on what I can sell and how to save up enough money for this trip. I need a goal.

Rite of passage

I went for a ride with Ken Lee after skating practice yesterday.  We took our usual route out towards Camas and around Lacamas Lake.  It was an incredibly clear, even warm, but windy day, and felt like Spring.

Saturday was the same type of weather, and the planned route included climbs up Mason Hill & Dorland to Skyline.  On Helvetia I was already feeling sluggish and didn't have the energy to catch the group as they surged ahead while I stopped at West Union.  John Elrod waited for me, and after riding up Jackson Quarry, we met up with a smaller group that turned left on Mason Hill, skipping the tough climb, which seemed okay with me.  I need the challenge, but just wasn’t feeling it, and I’m sure there will be more opportunities to ride those hills throughout the summer.  We had enough of a challenge riding into the wind on the way back.

With the way I felt on Saturday's ride, I was glad Ken was on his fixed gear yesterday, since earlier in the week he had mentioned bringing a bike with more than one gear and doing some climbing.  To me, the route is challenging enough, with rollers and a few short, but steep, hills that get my heart rate up and usually have me out of the saddle.  It gets easier each time though, and I’m feeling stronger.

I don’t pay attention to the street names, but just follow Ken’s wheel, though the route is becoming more familiar so I can anticipate when we’re going to turn as I recognize the familiar landmarks.   I have no idea which road we were on, but it’s just after a left turn onto a short hill, then it curves around, and all of a sudden I look down and there’s a white dog chasing me and barking.  I’m not afraid of the dog biting me, I just don’t want the dog to cause me to crash & take Ken out.  I can’t even think about pulling out my water bottle to squirt the dog, and I don’t have my small pump with me, not that I could bring myself to hit the dog.  I imagine I can feel the dog’s teeth on my shoes and before I know what I’m doing, I yell “DOG! DOG! DOG!” and sprint past Ken to lose the dog.  There’s a car behind us, and no shoulder, and I’m grateful that the car doesn’t try to pass.  Without turning to look back, I hope the driver sees the dog and is patient enough to wait until we continue on and the dog goes back to his yard.  Then at the very next house, I see another dog, a small brown one, start to run towards the road.  Ken and I simultaneously yell at the dog as loud as we can and I believe it stops him in his tracks.  I continue around the road as it curves, relieved, adrenaline pumping.

Finally we get to a place where we can ride side by side, and I say to Ken, “please tell me the white dog didn’t get hit by the car.”  He says no, and then remarks “I didn’t know you could sprint!”

Hah.  I guess I can if I have to.

When we got back around the lake and on flatter roads again, thinking of outsprinting the dog made me smile and I decided I needed to document this milestone.  So I took out my camera and took a picture of Ken.  I wasn’t too far back but slowed down a bit to take the photo.  I was super grateful to be on his wheel when we were in the wind.

As I thought about it, I commented to Ken that this is like one of those rites of passage that were listed in Bicycling Magazine a few issues back.  Like your first saddle sore, first bonk, first century.  First time chased by a dog .  Rite of passage.  I outsprinted the dog.  Crisis averted.  Whew.  WIN!

Surviving strength training

The late fall-early winter doldrums had arrived. Working too late most nights, not having the time or energy to plan healthy meals, time in front of the TV, and dark mornings with no energy to drag out the rollers resulted in lethargy, weight gain, and general malaise. Does this sound familiar, or is it just me?

I can’t remember what I initially thought when I saw the information about Upper Echelon’s strength training classes. I read about it on the website, talked to people I knew had taken the classes last year, and procrastinated. I knew I had to commit to something, because the old routine wasn’t working. My biggest fear: making it blatantly obvious how out of shape I really am by demonstrating that I don’t belong in a class full of bike racers. My biggest worry: what to wear? After all, the class involves both gym work and on-the-bike training. I had to get organized.

I tried not to think about it. I told Russell Cree that I was pretty sure I would die in the class, even though he had no idea what I was talking about. He just said I’d be fine. But I was dreading that first night, Monday December 7th. I thought of what could go wrong. I planned how to make sure I had enough time to get ready after work including time to grab a quick dinner.
I showed up. After all, 99% of the challenge is showing up. Right, Einar?

I immediately liked Lara Brown, the coach, and tried to put out of my mind what I imagined she was thinking when I introduced myself. Generally I don’t care about making an impression or what people think of me (those of you who know me will agree) but I would bet she was wondering what I was doing there, with my $129 set of Advance Minoura rollers, shebeest knickers and slightly worn North Wave shoes. Most everyone else had on their team jerseys, brought trainers and looked like they belonged. I chatted a bit with Lara, who reminds me a lot of a friend of mine who was once on the National Cycling team and came very close to qualifying for the 2006 short track speedskating Olympic team. I got on my bike and managed to stay upright on the rollers for the warmup, thanks to the strategically placed table (for my towel & water bottle).

Warmup over, time to do some “dynamic strength work”. This consisted of light jogging & doing various warmup exercises in laps across the room – knee-ups, lunges, etc. Then, the coordination drills. Lara lays out a “ladder” on the floor and shows us the hop-scotch-like drills. At first it’s easy, just run with knees up, one foot in each square, like football players running in tires. Then it becomes more complicated, this is where the “coordination” (or in my case, lack thereof) comes into play. Lara hops lightly and effortlessly as she demonstrates each combination drill. Javad quickly imitates precisely what she has demonstrated, and everyone else follows. Then I attempt the drill, and sometimes can’t get my brain to stop the negative “you can do this, klutz!” thoughts so that my legs & body can actually perform. At least I try, and hope nobody is laughing, but I am amused at my own clumsiness. So be it.

Time to get on the bike. Lara brings out a chart which I can’t read, because I am so focused on staying upright on my rollers that I don’t dare look up. At the beginning of class during warmup she had us introduce ourselves and I did so without looking up, but managed to shoot a quick frightened glance at Lara, and heard a few chuckles. I paid my money like everyone else, and I need to be here, I thought. I am out of shape, so what if I’ve got 10 or 20 years on these “real” racers. I just want to ride my bike and not die.

Back to the chart. I can’t focus on it, but Lara is saying something about “power 1” and “power 2”. I interpret this to mean “pedal hard” and “try not to puke”. These are my goals. I manage to accomplish both, for the most part, though Lara does have to say “get your cadence up there, Linda” quite a few times. I try not to watch the clock. Lara says “throw your knees up over the handlebars” and I picture parking my bike somewhere and just reclining with my legs draped over the bike. Not exactly what she meant. I realized that the coordination and warmup drills are intended to simulate the pedaling motion (at least the running knee-ups, anyway) so I find that if I just concentrate on pretending there are wires on the ceiling attached to my kneecaps, they will pull them up repeatedly, allowing me to somewhat resemble an actual cyclist on rollers.

I survived the first class. Even though I ate before the workout, I was ravenously hungry when I got home at 9pm. Note to self to bring snacks for the ½ hour drive home. I even went back for 2 more classes in December. Then the holidays came. I had to work up my courage all over again to return to class on January 13th. In place of Lara, who is out of town, Chris put the three of us through a similar warmup and more core workout, which I badly need. The spinning portion of the class was much harder – 120 rpms? Are you kidding me?
I’ll get there. I may not ever be an actual road racer, but I am determined to regain the fitness I’ve lost, be able to pedal more efficiently, not get dropped on rides, and most importantly, fit into my jeans.