Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Brainless Training Tricks!
Training WIthout Brains
Sometimes we let fixed ideas dictate our actions. This is variably described, ranging from `dedicated,' to `stubborn,' to `stupid.' Yesterday's training ride included all of these.
The Bike Prescott Club arranged, yesterday, a group ride through 75 miles of forbidding and desolate Arizona terrain. Though I ride/train very little with others I was very happy to join the group for this challenging trek.
January 22 ... is still Winter! Here in the higher altitudes of AZ we get slapped around a lot by discovering the rapid-fire caprice of freezing cold, warm and embracing sunlight. Can't take anything for granted on even the shortest ride.
Starting out at an altitude of around 4,000 feet we were enjoying the warmth of the sun's rays. A surprisingly strong wind from the east aided us in our westerly route. As soon as we started climbing we found ourselves shedding armwarmers, vests, etc.
Reaching our turnaround point mid-day the wind had (uncharacteristically) diminished and the warmth of the sun was `full on.' Finally, when we reached the `divide' between climbing and descending the sun was waning we developed a `sweat' and the wind demanded that we at least put the vest back on.
If the sun just briefly hides behind a rock face or a hill we experience a 10 - 15 degree chill. Like a light switch. In the sun it is 72F. The second we enter shade the temp drops to 50F. Add wind and sweat and we experience a `wind chill' effect.
The group ended the 75 mile ride around 4:30 pm, as the sun was beginning to cast long shadows. And THAT was the right time to end the group ride, as the temp range remained the same but the sunlight was not as warm. That is, in-the-sun temps were 60's, and shady temps were 40's. Add wind and wet clothing ... bitter cold.
Here is where I elected to get `stubborn,' or ride from the neck `down.'
I wanted to cap the 75 mile group ride with an additional solo 25 miles to get a full `century.' And off into the setting sun I went. Mostly uphill. Slowly.
Twelve and a half miles later I reached the turnaround point. The sun had firmly set. I was at an altitude of 5,000 feet. The mountain desert cold presented itself, as it had always been there. The temps were in the low 40F's. I was sweaty and my clothes were wet. It was getting so dark that I needed to focus on the fog line to stay on the road.
The 12.5 mile return was all downhill: 4 - 6%.
And there I was. I had failed to carry a front light. I had failed to carry a head lamp in the event I had a flat and needed to see what I was doing. I had failed to carry the emergency foil wrap to protect against the cold in the event I had a mechanical problem.
Descending down the hill my hands were so cold as to become almost inflexible. The cutting cold wind tore into my wet arms and torso. I was descending at 40+ mph. The windchill must have been a single digit.
By the time I was 4 miles from the end cars were using their bright lights to illuminate the road ahead. I was blinded. Stark desert darkness shattered by an explosive and disorienting brilliance ahead. I slowed dramatically as each vehicle passed, aware of the phenomenon of `object fixation,' where one `steers' into the light ahead. Also aware that the momentary blindness risked me not seeing wildlife (javelina, coyote, deer, etc) that may be crossing the road.
Finally, I reached the end point. It was pitch dark. I was rigid with cold.
Fumbling with rigid fingers I dropped the keys to my car several times.
I realized that I needed to shed the wet jersey in which I was freezing in the wind and put on something dry. This was clumsy and awkward, associated with the odd sense of warmth as soon as my unprotected skin was exposed to the wind.
Driving home I had the heat on full blast. I was reminded of the years of winter midnight riding in the frozen tundra of Illinois.
`Fixed idea.' An irrational and thoughtless focus on an action that placed me square in the cross-hairs of self-inflicted danger.
Training Without Brains
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Great Leader Sports Nutrition Products
As 2013 training and riding season is imminent I thought it might be amusing to post my homage to the snake oil industry:
"Expensive
Urinite:" Improve your
speed 300% while keeping your heart rate under 85 bpm. Scientifically
formulated and tested at a secret underwater independent North Korean humility
`Great Leader' sports lab. Trust us!
Easy to
swallow, non-chewable, tasty seaweed flavored powder dissolvable in simple yak
milk. 16 oz irradiated `repurposed' nuclear centrifuge canisters @ only $175
each. Money back guarantee if you live that long.
"Swell
Gel:" Dance up
hills in happy bliss doing `silly circles' around your grunting
competitors. All ingredients in Swell Gel have been personally and individually
used by "WADA" scientists and carry their official ` thumbs up with a
wink' photo. Unlike other sticky, gooey, gag-me-with-a-spoon gels Swell Gel is
snorted by riders. No sticky white residue.
"Secret
Power Suppositories" For the
`daring' competitor, the one who isn't cowed by wussy WADA rules or spy camera
crews. Enormous wiener sized slick suppository jam packed with EPO,
epinephrine, testosterone, and a veritable plethora of fast acting 'roids.
Nobody will know that when it looks like you're just scratching your
crotch you're actually inserting a "Secret Power Suppository" up your
keester.
Guaranteed NOT
to grow an inch of hair on your shoulders and arms by the end of a
Stage.
Be the first to
finish, knowing that when you get off your bike and your knuckles are dragging
at your feet you'll have a long night of bike groupies wanting to know you
better.
Amaze your friends
when your voice drops from falsetto to alto.
And we promise
not to insult your intelligence by selling for dollars what you could buy at
your grocery store for pennies. Because WE KNOW you want one of our "GREAT
LEADER" T-shirts to prove to your buds that you're one serious,
baaaddddd-ass cyclist!
Sunday, January 6, 2013
Cadence, Power, Climbing and Heart Rate
I'm not certain I'll be able to state this very well.
I've been casually attending to cyclist's reports of the watts they deliver compared to the watts they predict. Recently I read that a cyclist predicted an average 214 watts but actually delivered 189 watts. This was on a long-distance endurance event.
Perhaps training with a power meter really is the best training method. It certainly allows the cyclist to dial in a goal and do what it takes to `reach' that goal. And training with heart rate zones carries with it the imprecisions associated with high variability from one day to the next.
On a long distance event it is important to stay `within' oneself. That is, if I were to target a certain wattage figure I might find that it is just too strenuous, too far outside the range of long-term sustainability. If I targeted 215 watts but became overtaxed in doing so it is a certainty that my performance would suffer.
So maybe it is good to `train' with an objective wattage power figure but to `compete' in a range that is subjectively doable.
Last November I entered and dnf'd at a 24 hour time trial. Though I had four flat tires and the concomitant delays associated with that I still felt that I might not have been able to complete the entire event. Even without the four flat tires. Why?
After about 180 miles (and 10 or so hours) I began to feel `burnt.' I didn't have a power meter and was unable to even `see' my heart rate figures because of the dark of night. And, for whatever reason, my Garmin simply didn't record the heart rate figures consistently.
But I felt it during the race in my knees. Not a pain, so much as a growing ache. That shouldn't happen so early in a 24 hour race. My conclusion is that I was pushing too hard (probably both in terms of watts and heart rate). Rewinding, in my mind, what I was doing I conclude that I pedalled at a too low cadence (probably 65 -75 rpm) pushing too many watts. Thus the knee `ache' and the feeling of feeling `burnt' after 10 hours.
I train typically in the hills and mountains and have developed a habit of powering up inclines. That is, I grind up the hills. I guess that that is one of the reasons I like climbing: I feel like I'm conquering the climbing.
But that strategy cannot work on long distance competitive events.
Lately, on the indoor trainer I have set two goals for myself on training that lasts 2 or more hours. First, keep the heart rate in the 125 bpm range. Second, keep the cadence between 85 - 90 rpm. If I tried to apply high wattage and keep 85-90 rpm my heart rate will skyrocket. So, I've had to back off the `power' in order to stay at 125 bpm and 85-90 rpm.
But I don't like it.
In fact, in the last few weeks on my outdoor training rides I'd try to up the rpm and keep the bpm in range, even when climbing. And I just don't like it. Subjectively I feel I'm going too slow. But, when I compare my performance to when I `ground' up the mountain grade with lower cadence at the same relative bpm ... I was no slower. That is, less wattage, more rpms at the same bpm.
Subjective and objective. Lots to learn here.
I'm going to continue this `higher rpm' experiment for a while, even though it feels uncomfortable and odd.
The perfect outcome would be that on long-distance competitions I'd keep good speed and reduce or eliminate knee `ache.'
Time and experience will tell.
I've been casually attending to cyclist's reports of the watts they deliver compared to the watts they predict. Recently I read that a cyclist predicted an average 214 watts but actually delivered 189 watts. This was on a long-distance endurance event.
Perhaps training with a power meter really is the best training method. It certainly allows the cyclist to dial in a goal and do what it takes to `reach' that goal. And training with heart rate zones carries with it the imprecisions associated with high variability from one day to the next.
On a long distance event it is important to stay `within' oneself. That is, if I were to target a certain wattage figure I might find that it is just too strenuous, too far outside the range of long-term sustainability. If I targeted 215 watts but became overtaxed in doing so it is a certainty that my performance would suffer.
So maybe it is good to `train' with an objective wattage power figure but to `compete' in a range that is subjectively doable.
Last November I entered and dnf'd at a 24 hour time trial. Though I had four flat tires and the concomitant delays associated with that I still felt that I might not have been able to complete the entire event. Even without the four flat tires. Why?
After about 180 miles (and 10 or so hours) I began to feel `burnt.' I didn't have a power meter and was unable to even `see' my heart rate figures because of the dark of night. And, for whatever reason, my Garmin simply didn't record the heart rate figures consistently.
But I felt it during the race in my knees. Not a pain, so much as a growing ache. That shouldn't happen so early in a 24 hour race. My conclusion is that I was pushing too hard (probably both in terms of watts and heart rate). Rewinding, in my mind, what I was doing I conclude that I pedalled at a too low cadence (probably 65 -75 rpm) pushing too many watts. Thus the knee `ache' and the feeling of feeling `burnt' after 10 hours.
I train typically in the hills and mountains and have developed a habit of powering up inclines. That is, I grind up the hills. I guess that that is one of the reasons I like climbing: I feel like I'm conquering the climbing.
But that strategy cannot work on long distance competitive events.
Lately, on the indoor trainer I have set two goals for myself on training that lasts 2 or more hours. First, keep the heart rate in the 125 bpm range. Second, keep the cadence between 85 - 90 rpm. If I tried to apply high wattage and keep 85-90 rpm my heart rate will skyrocket. So, I've had to back off the `power' in order to stay at 125 bpm and 85-90 rpm.
But I don't like it.
In fact, in the last few weeks on my outdoor training rides I'd try to up the rpm and keep the bpm in range, even when climbing. And I just don't like it. Subjectively I feel I'm going too slow. But, when I compare my performance to when I `ground' up the mountain grade with lower cadence at the same relative bpm ... I was no slower. That is, less wattage, more rpms at the same bpm.
Subjective and objective. Lots to learn here.
I'm going to continue this `higher rpm' experiment for a while, even though it feels uncomfortable and odd.
The perfect outcome would be that on long-distance competitions I'd keep good speed and reduce or eliminate knee `ache.'
Time and experience will tell.
Friday, January 4, 2013
Crosswinds and Bitter Cold
Though the temp on the south end of the mountain was 20 degrees warmer (in the
sun) than up top it was getting mighty windy by mid-day. I've come to the
realization that it is warmer at noon than it is at 7am (brilliant!). So, I try
to get an hour or two of indoor training in before I head out.
Two out-and-back trips from milepost 298 to Kirkland. Fifty three miles and 4,200 feet of climbing (79 ft / mile). Didn't dress like the Michelin man because it `felt' warmer (35F?). Climbing up to milepost 298 from 295 is a warmup and takes about 20 minutes. From there it is a crazy 9 mile descent and then a right turn and 4 miles of rollers before the turnaround pount.
http://ridewithgps.com/trips/1077733
VERY windy from the NE with lots of gusty crosswinds vexing any chance of 45+ mph. On the return up to 298 the NE wind was a force to contend with. Notwithstanding a gear shift problem that denied me access to the 32t rear ring. (I have subsequently discovered that the rear wheel was set in the dropouts properly, i.e., the wheel was at an angle.)
As I get into the twisty switchbacks on the `Spars' the wind gets squirrely. The hollows and ravine-like indents to the mountain focus and increase the force of the wind.
So there I was, riding uphill at around 7mph when a gust of crosswind pushes me OFF the road and into a small 3 foot patch of shoulder before a steep drop off into a ravine.
Fortunately I've got the `brake-and-unclip' thing down cold so I managed to stop and plant my feet on the remaining shoulder. But that crosswind gust felt more like a `slap' than a `shove.'
Turning around again at the top (mp 298) the second 9 mile descent was very, very technical. I had to anticipate strong crosswinds as I came out into an open hollow. I had to keep flexibility in both arm and shoulder control and a firm grip on the handlebar ends. As the wind was at my back as I descended 4-6% it was effortless to let the bike hit 43 mph. But, again, I had to remain conscious of the crosswinds.
As I hit a 6 mile glass smooth section of straight road the crosswinds were less of a problem but the oncoming traffic was more of a problem. Each time a van or truck passed there would be a softening of the wind and then a heavy `smack' of crosswind. I chose to stop pedalling, slow down and brace myself for this. But still, it was like getting hit with a rolled up carpet.
Returning again from the second lap, up the 9 mile hill and into the ever increasing wind was rough. My plan was to keep the HR at no more than 125 and the cadence at 85 rpm. But not having access to that 32t cog and feeling the pushback from the oncoming wind ruined that plan. Also, sweating from the training ride the wind and cold gave me a harsh chill that only more effort could remediate. Back to my old 65-70 rpm grind; although I did manage to keep the HR under reasonable control until the last two mile `push.'
All in all, what is normally a `4' out of `10' training ride turned into a solid 6.5 because of the cold, sweat and wind.
But I've never been pushed off the road going 7 mph uphill before.
Two out-and-back trips from milepost 298 to Kirkland. Fifty three miles and 4,200 feet of climbing (79 ft / mile). Didn't dress like the Michelin man because it `felt' warmer (35F?). Climbing up to milepost 298 from 295 is a warmup and takes about 20 minutes. From there it is a crazy 9 mile descent and then a right turn and 4 miles of rollers before the turnaround pount.
http://ridewithgps.com/trips/1077733
VERY windy from the NE with lots of gusty crosswinds vexing any chance of 45+ mph. On the return up to 298 the NE wind was a force to contend with. Notwithstanding a gear shift problem that denied me access to the 32t rear ring. (I have subsequently discovered that the rear wheel was set in the dropouts properly, i.e., the wheel was at an angle.)
As I get into the twisty switchbacks on the `Spars' the wind gets squirrely. The hollows and ravine-like indents to the mountain focus and increase the force of the wind.
So there I was, riding uphill at around 7mph when a gust of crosswind pushes me OFF the road and into a small 3 foot patch of shoulder before a steep drop off into a ravine.
Fortunately I've got the `brake-and-unclip' thing down cold so I managed to stop and plant my feet on the remaining shoulder. But that crosswind gust felt more like a `slap' than a `shove.'
Turning around again at the top (mp 298) the second 9 mile descent was very, very technical. I had to anticipate strong crosswinds as I came out into an open hollow. I had to keep flexibility in both arm and shoulder control and a firm grip on the handlebar ends. As the wind was at my back as I descended 4-6% it was effortless to let the bike hit 43 mph. But, again, I had to remain conscious of the crosswinds.
As I hit a 6 mile glass smooth section of straight road the crosswinds were less of a problem but the oncoming traffic was more of a problem. Each time a van or truck passed there would be a softening of the wind and then a heavy `smack' of crosswind. I chose to stop pedalling, slow down and brace myself for this. But still, it was like getting hit with a rolled up carpet.
Returning again from the second lap, up the 9 mile hill and into the ever increasing wind was rough. My plan was to keep the HR at no more than 125 and the cadence at 85 rpm. But not having access to that 32t cog and feeling the pushback from the oncoming wind ruined that plan. Also, sweating from the training ride the wind and cold gave me a harsh chill that only more effort could remediate. Back to my old 65-70 rpm grind; although I did manage to keep the HR under reasonable control until the last two mile `push.'
All in all, what is normally a `4' out of `10' training ride turned into a solid 6.5 because of the cold, sweat and wind.
But I've never been pushed off the road going 7 mph uphill before.
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Two-wheel striptease!
Two training sessions today. First on was outdoors. Second was on the indoor trainer.
It was 11F in a few of the hollows on the mountain. I don't ride the mountain when there has been snow and freezing temps: black ice just where you don't need it.
Instead, took off from 3 miles north of Wilhoit south to Kirkland and back. 2100 ft of climbing over 26.5 miles. (Moving skin show route)
Still, it was 14F when I left and 50 when I returned. THAT is what the sun does at altitude.
I wore everything I had:
It was sunny and 50F in Kirkland so I wound up taking off half the clothes for the climb back up. There I was, on the side of the road, disrobing down to almost nothing. The ride back up had me too hot, sweating.
It wasn't pretty. But it was worth it.
I felt like the Pillsbury doughboy.
It was 11F in a few of the hollows on the mountain. I don't ride the mountain when there has been snow and freezing temps: black ice just where you don't need it.
Instead, took off from 3 miles north of Wilhoit south to Kirkland and back. 2100 ft of climbing over 26.5 miles. (Moving skin show route)
Still, it was 14F when I left and 50 when I returned. THAT is what the sun does at altitude.
I wore everything I had:
- insulated socks,
- merino leggings,
- leg warmers,
- pair of Reverse Gear shorts,
- a set of nylon windbreaker pants over all of that;
- Top was merino long jersey,
- poofy wool armwarmers,
- two wool jerseys,
- a windbreaker,
- and ANOTHER windbreaker.
- balaclava,
- a skull cap.
- a pair of warm lobster gloves,
- a pair of lobster gloves shell,
- chemical toe warmers,
- chemical hand warmers.
It was sunny and 50F in Kirkland so I wound up taking off half the clothes for the climb back up. There I was, on the side of the road, disrobing down to almost nothing. The ride back up had me too hot, sweating.
It wasn't pretty. But it was worth it.
I felt like the Pillsbury doughboy.
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