Friday, February 26, 2016

Demands of Climbing on the Body

I rode the CA2 on a continuous and long 4 - 9 percent incline on a 20 mile course yesterday.  The steepest incline I've ridden in the past few months was 3 percent and then only for a short distance.  So this was a big change in riding terrain.

  • I awoke this morning with a sore lower back.  I attribute this to the steep 8 percent degree of recline of my carbon fiber hard shell seat. 
  • My front and rear chain ring combination is too severe, as well.  Front is 58/42 and the lowest ring in back is 34.  My rpm was way too low, probably around 75.  I have a lot of training to do the get the right muscle development that permits a higher rpm. 
Changes:
  1. Decrease the angle of recline of the CFHS seat to about 22 degrees;
  2. Switch to the Ti Aero with a triple crank up front (55/39/30) so I can get back to 95 rpm.
=========================
 
April 2, 2016:
 
I modified my Ti Aero for climbing.  Double (50/34) up front with the 11/36 in back.  Decided against the triple up front.  Just don't need that low of a gear. 
 
Perfect gearing, though the relatively small big ring up front means that I spin out faster on the steep descents.

Thursday, February 25, 2016

Steep Climb - 2016 Cycling Events

I really enjoyed flatland riding and training since the 12-24 Hour World Time Trials in Borrego Springs last November.  Borrego Springs is on the calendar again for 2016.  So many good things going for it.   But I doubt I'll do Bike Sebring next year.  Decent challenge but just too far away and too many logistical demands.  Sebring - A Road Too Far
 
Twelve days back from Sebring and today was my first time out on the bike since then.   Spent the time off the bike catching up on things I neglected. 
 
My criteria for cycling events for the remainder of the year include:
  • Don't conflict with work or family responsibilities
  • Within driving distance (600 miles or so)
  • Not on dangerous roads
  • Ultra but not too ultra (300 miles or 16 hours or less) 
This is the tentative 2016 cycling calendar:
Only one event (Hoodoo 300) will require crewing support. 
 
Lots of work ahead.  Drop weight.  Dial in the bikes for climbing events. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Bike Sebring 2016

 
Next year I'll crew at Sebring instead of ride.  Logistics is the issue
  1. Had to disassemble the bike. 
  2. Pack up the bike in plastic bike boxes (3). 
  3. Schlep the boxes to FedEx. 
  4. Ship the bike to Sebring.
  5. Unpack and assemble the bike. 
  6. Deal with a mechanical problem (broken RD hanger).  (Allan Duhm saved my bacon by getting a RD hanger from Leroy's Bikeworks in Lakeland, FL.  Without his generous help ... I'd'a been a simple, plain spectator). 
  7. Ride. 
  8. Disassemble the bike. 
  9. Pack up the bike.
  10. Schlep the bike boxes down to the hotel holding room.
  11. Ship the boxes. 
  12. Pick up the bike boxes at FedEx. 
  13. Unpack the bike. 
  14. Assemble the bike again.
So.  Crewing is waaay better.
 

SOME PERSONAL OPINIONS - Not Intended To Piss You Off

I am generally disciplined and attentive to the possibility of drowning out the `signal' with `noise.'  That is, when I offer an opinion on a matter I try not to piss people off. 

If what I say does, in fact, result in a defensive or hostile response it troubles me and I wind up replaying the thing over and over in my head to see how I could have done it differently.
 
These, then, are my personal opinions.  They are as objective as I can make them.  If persons disagree with them I respect that.  Though my opinions may not shed new light on these issues I do hope that they don't generate `heat.' 

If you, the reader, wish to offer a comment to this blog post I will publish it only if it is not `anonymous.'  That is, be accountable.
 
Superman bars v. tiller:  if I were a fighter jet the issue of frontal area might matter.  But I just want to see what is in front of me better without a big riser pipe or handlebars obstructing my view.  Besides ... I wonder if, in a wind tunnel, handlebars and a riser pipe offer more or less frontal area than the tiller position.  `Angels on the head of a needle' thinking.
 
Rear wheel v. front wheel drive:
  • FWD is a novelty and unnecessary. 
  • In the terrain in which I live it is, in fact, more than unnecessary.  It is dangerous.  The FWD/MBB bikes I've owned (3 of them) were twitchy in steering and handling.  And very, very dangerous at fast (30 mph) speeds ... worse on descending switchbacks.
  • The marketing pitch about how FWD exercises the upper body is not accurate.  If a person wants to exercise their upper body ... do some pushups and don't swallow the marketing pitch.    I sold two of them back to the manufacturer and gave one to an old peoples home as a stationary exercise bike.
 
Aero: If a bike is aero ... it is aero.  And that has nothing to do with whether or not it is a FWD or RWD bike.
 
Setting Records: Put a class A athlete on a class C bike and you're likely to get a class A performance.  Especially if the course is dead flat.  Especially if the class A athlete is supported by the class C bike manufacturer crew.  Don't make the mistake of thinking that the bike rode itself.
 
Bikes Ride what you like and like what you ride.                             

Sunday, February 14, 2016

An Existential Assertion

I offer a different response every time I am asked why I do `the bike.'

Health.  Stress reduction.  It `wears me out.'  Etc.

Yesterday I added another reason.

I registered for a 12 hour `time trial.'  A race against the clock.  To cover as much ground (miles) as possible on the bike within the 12 hours.  

Objectively I did what I had expected.  Subjectively I gained much more than kudos for the numbers on the board.  

In the past I have often ridden the bike much, much further.  Taking more time to do it, with less intensity.  

So, yesterday, after 6.5 hours of intense effort without a break I was physically ready to call it a day.  ("Good numbers, Dan!") I did well, performance wise.  And here is where the `subjective' gain comes in.

I decided that I was going push on for another 5.5 hours, to pedal at a power level far greater than was comfortable.  Recalling my previous blog post on Degrees of Discomfort I was mindful of the fact that my discomfort level was past `soreness,' past `ache.'  But I didn't experience any `pain' that would be my body's way of telling me I was doing physical damage.  Even after the last 1.5 hours of almost maximum effort I just barely scratched `fatigue.'  

I've never pushed that hard, so consistently, for so long.  Every time my mph got below a figure I'd realize I was slacking off in effort and would increase the power and effort in pedaling.  

It was an endless dialogue.

"It would feel so good just to back off the watts."

"But you're only feeling the first two levels of discomfort (sore and achy).  That is not a good enough reason to back off the watts.  You're not risking physical damage or letting your ego talk you into injury."

And then I'd push harder.  

For 12 hours.  No letup.  

The `numbers on the board' mean almost nothing to me.  And the awareness that I have the fortitude to accomplish this `existential' assertion means everything to me.  A reason for living.

Saturday, February 6, 2016

Hearing Loss

When we age our `parts' wear out.  Our sense of `hearing' simply diminishes with time.  It is often a slow, barely distinguishable process. 

And then there are motorcycles. 

My hearing loss (left ear) happened fast.  Over less than a few months.  In April I could put my cell phone to my left ear and hear without a problem.  In June I could not. 

One of the local training routes is a mountainous two lane road, thick with ascending and descending switchbacks, that hangs off the edge of the Bradshaw Mountains in the Prescott National Forest.  In the winter there is very little traffic because of ice and snow.  The other nine months of the year hordes of motorcyclists practice suicides on this road.  Over the 17 mile length of the road I've counted more than 20 `road shrines' dedicated to motorcyclists who have careened off the cliff edges or smashed into the rock face. 

Motorcyclists like themselves to be noisy.  Big, blasting tail pipes.  Something between their legs that they otherwise lost many years ago. 

So, the hordes of lemmings on motorcycles that have made misery out of pristine nature have taken another toll: hearing in my left ear. 

Could be worse, I guess. 

Degrees of Discomfort

One of the reasons I cycle is the endless experience of self-discovery. 
 
Over the last few days I've been training on a course that encompasses all the best aspects of terrain.  Flats, hills, steep climbs, fast descents.  A 60 mile out and back course on road that is literally traffic free.  Long and short enough to offer both short time trialing and long distance training when ridden in multiples. 
 
After several hours I began to feel the usual discomfort one experiences when training.  I contemplated the nature of this discomfort.  Was it `pain?'  Was it `fatigue?'  'Soreness?'  `Aching?'
 
No pain.  No fatigue.  But I did experience soreness as I increased the watts of effort in pedal strokes.  Aching, too. 
 
Careful not to overdo it and cause physical damage I concluded that `soreness' and `aching' were forms of discomfort I could accept and keep pushing on. 
 
So, I've constructed a mental template of `discomfort' that will assist me in my training. 
 
  • Soreness
  • Aching
  • Pain
  • Fatigue


In competitive situations one certainly experiences discomfort.  And `discomfort' has a way of gnawing away at your consciousness, arguing to limit your effort so as to decrease the `hurt.'  Among the many mind tricks we employ in cycling (break a 100 mile course into ten sections of ten miles, imagining the sense of `victory' when crossing the finish line, etc) the `discomfort' ladder gives me another method to keep pushing.  

Or ...

 

Tuesday, February 2, 2016