Sloppy Training Tips for Disorganized Mortals

Sloppy.  And far from `correct.’  But I’m pretty happy with today’s `training for disorganized mortals.’ 

Two weeks from tomorrow (Sunday, Sep 15) a local annual cycling event will take place.  The Skull Valley Loop Challenge.  Fifty-four miles of climbing and descending (about 4,500 feet).  Drop dead gorgeous mountain terrain in Arizona’s Central Highlands.  Screaming descents (-3% -11%) on glass smooth roads for more than a dozen miles (video of me doing one of the long descents).  Demanding, non-stop ascents (+3 +9%) for more than 9 miles.  Miles and miles of rollers.  And more than 10 miles of rapid ascending and descending, sharp-angle mountain cliffside switchbacks.   Words just can’t describe this course. 

I live less than a mile from the start and end points of this event (SVLC Route).  I train on some or all of this course all year long.  I never tire of the almost overpowering majesty and beauty of the terrain.  I’ve studied the geology (`rotten granite,’ `1.8 billion year old gneiss,’ `rhyolite lava flows from massive tectonic separations’).  Scrub brush desert to Prescott Pinon forest ranges.  Monsoon rains and lightning.  Intense, body killing solar radiation and heat at high altitude. 

Today I did the Skull Valley Loop clockwise, i.e., in the opposite direction (SVL clockwise today).  It’s actually much harder to do the `loop’ clockwise.  The last half of the route is unremittingly and increasingly steep.  It just grinds and grinds. 

Train heavy.  Race lite. 

When I train I carry 100 oz of water and `food,’ an extra tire, 4 tubes, tools, food, clothes for 3 seasons.  Probably as much as 25 – 30 lbs of stuff.   Given the rapid uppy-downy nature of the terrain I have an uncommon gearing setup (even for a recumbent).  A 58/42 double upfront.  And a ten speed 11/36 cassette in back.  The 58/11 combination allows me to maintain power (and speed at approx. 46 mph) on the initial descents and flats before I spin out (approx. 114 rpm).  The 42/36 combination lets me crank within a comfortable rpm on the steepest of the climbs. 

Yesterday I was a pig.  I ate sausages, cake, pasta, pizza, lots of bread and peanut butter.  Half a bottle of wine.  All of this put me at a 195 lb starting weight this morning.  (Within 5 miles my body gets the point,  authorizes emphatic peristalsis … and I’m returned to something somewhat lighter). 

The first half of the `loop’ was great.  Some ups and downs but lots of long descents where I could really put that 58t front ring to work. 

In a `race’ (for me) it’s important to be able to produce lots of power without backing off.  I’m particularly motivated to `catch’ whomever is in front of me.  Especially on the climbs.  Why `especially on the climbs?’  Because other cyclists ride upright, diamond frame bikes and they smugly `know’ that “recumbents can’t climb.”  I like to pass them on the climbs.  Aggression.  Almost to the point of dangerous hostility.  When I’m doing this I literally don’t care if my heart rate exceeds 3 digits.  I’m often breathing so hard I sound like a train. 

When I race the `loop' I carry nothing.  No water.  No tools.  No tubes.  No food.  Nothing.  I don't stop.  Just me on the bike.  And I'll probably drop 10 lbs by then.  I feel literally `bouyant' for the race.  And I'm (humility is such a burden) fast. 

So today I made myself do a non-stop 17 mile climb in the 58t big ring upfront.  My cadence, at times, was as low as 40 rpm.  My speed stayed just barely above 4 mph at times.  The last 5 miles of this climb was constantly between 6% and 11%. 

I was fat.  Carrying 30 lbs of dead weight.  And cranking low and slow. 

I know that pro trainers and many other more informed cyclists disapprove of, or find this training tactic either pointless or destructive.  For me, however, it builds a) capacity to endure the stress of constant power output, b) muscle and ligament strength. 

At the very end of the `loop’ (clockwise) there is a 2 mile steep descent.  I clicked into the 58/11 and tore down the descent.  I had to feather the brakes at one point because the rushing wind was pushing my helmet visor down over my eyes. 

Sloppy.  Heavy.  Mortal.  And better.   

Dan Fallon: Descent to Skull Valley

Dan Fallon: Descent to Skull Valley

The descent to Skull Valley from the top of Iron Springs Road is 12.2 miles long. (http://ridewithgps.com/trips/1623786)

The last 7 miles of the road has been completely repaved allowing the total descent to be on glass smooth surface with wide shoulders.  This is a video (GoPro) of my descent (starting at 5:30 minutes into vid).  Clear day.  Very little wind (early). 

Purposely restricted my speed to 50 mph, but could easily have exceeded that simply by not feathering the brakes.  I rode a Bacchetta CA2 high racer recumbent bicycle.  This descent is part of the Skull Valley Loop Challenge: (http://www.prescottbikeped.org/prescottcycling/loopchallenge/)

My Experience with Ultracycling

When I was a kid I rode around the block until it was dark.  As a young teenager I rode in a `pack' with other kids.  When I was 16 I decided to ride the circumference of Lake Michigan.  Then I took up running.  That and work and family kept me stretched for a few decades.  In my late forties I came back to cycling.  It was always a release, for fun.  Sometimes for social interaction. 

It wasn't until my early fifties that I made a real effort to ride long distances (which amounted to club centuries a few times a month in good weather).  That grew to week long events of over one hundred miles a day.  Throw in a few one day double centuries. 

In 2008 I began riding the recumbent bike.  Big improvement.  More miles, far less agony (no more saddle sores, sore shoulders, neck pain, numb hands and wrists).  I got a `bug' in me to join the UltraMarathon Cycling Association in 2009 for the purpose of setting a few cross State (Illinois and Indiana) speed records. 

And then things got complicated, expensive and much less fun.  My own fault.  I got on the `ultracycling' macho machine.  Criminy!  The money I spent. 

Knowing me, it had to be done.  A very, very complicated set of expectations and motives played themselves out over a good five year period. 

With significant exceptions (people I met) the fun got extinguished by politics, people wanting to sell bikes, and an enormous amount of `mine is bigger than yours.' 

I seem to do most things in `fives.' 

I am still very much involved in challenging myself with demanding bicycling activities.  But I've returned to the `fun' of it again.  I still consider myself an ultracyclist and have the current credentials to prove it. 

In some respects, stepping back from attempting to be an illuminatus in the cycling world is like chopping off an arm.  There is a mania (and myopia) about it.  And giving up an addictive delusion leaves one in a state of intense introspection: what am I getting back for all the energy I'm putting out?

I'm fortunate to live in one of the most exciting, spectacular and challenging places in the world.  I can roll out my front door literally instantly have multiple options for meaning and fulfillment. 

More to come on this topic.  I consider it a welcome maturation process.

A 58t Front Chainring Will NOT Make Me Faster on the Downhills

I'm changing my front triple (55/39/30) to a double (58/42).

In doing so I'm stepping smack into the middle of the mistaken conclusion of many that I'm doing so in order to exceed my current 54 mph max downhill speed. 

First, I can exceed the 54 mph max downhill speed already without changing my gearing.   Just don't use the brakes. 

What with the long, steep and straight descents out my way I spin out in my 55/11 combination at around 42 mph (that's about 111 rpm).  The difference between the 42 mph and 54 mph is solely due to a) angle of descent, b) minimal to zero crosswinds, c) good road quality. 

Second, a 58/11 combination will see me spinning out at around 46 - 54 mph.   

So why am I making the switch?

Short answer: because on the initial ascents and initial descents I will be able to apply power longer (maintain and accelerate speed) before I spin out. 

As it is with the 55t, when the conditions allow it, I spin out and am `stuck' at that speed,  having to `coast' down or up to the next ascent/descent.  I'm just a sack of flower on two wheels restrained by the limits of my pedal rpms. 

Why don't I `pedal faster?'  Because increased rpms generate instability, esp. if conditions are not just perfect. 

Explanation. 

On long, 4%+ descents, many casual/recreational cyclists can exceed 54 mph simply by not applying the brakes.  Especially if that casual cyclist has `ballast.'  (Ask a pro cyclist weighing 120 lbs how difficult it is to achieve and maintain descending speeds). 

I have kept my descending speed `down' to 54 mph simply because it is unneeded risk injected into a race by going faster.  Any extra distance gained by that added speed is lost very quickly at the next turn, when you have to slow down because of a pack of cyclists blocking the road ahead, or because of road conditions. 

When I am capable of consistently maintaining high speed (without spinning out) on initial ascents and initial descents (i.e., achieving `'54 mph' sooner and staying there longer) I accumulate additional distance over my competitors.  I get fast faster and stay fast longer because I can continue to apply power to the pedals at a manageable rpm. 

Example #1:

A cyclist will pass me (doing 58-60 mph) on a roller.  He then begins ascending the next hill/roller.  As gravity slows him down he applies power until he either reaches his power-to-weight maximum or he has to downshift. 

As I begin ascending that next hill/roller my 58t big ring allows me to apply power longer without spinning out, passing the other cyclist at a good rate of speed, adding cumulative distance that will be very difficult for the other cyclist to recover.  (Note: I have a very strong power to weight ratio; much better, longer, than most cyclists).

Example #2: 

I and another cyclist will be racing neck and neck as we reach the next descent.  As we both accelerate down the descent he will reach his `spinout' threshold (i.e., when he has to stop applying power and simply coasts) sooner.  Because I have a bigger (58t) front ring I will be able to apply power longer without spinning out.

Caveat:

There are many cyclists who are both capable and willing to pedal at a faster cadence, higher rpm, than me.  All things being equal, then, the advantage of my 58t ring will be reduced. 

Overstimulated

I'm coming north today at milepost 303 and I look up at the road just before mp 305.  A big white 18 wheeler seemed to be parked in the ash pullout.  

The White Spars 

Sure enough, it's a big honkin' 18 wheeler. Stopped on the pullout.  

I concluded that the driver `clicked to' the fact that the snaking switchbacks below and ahead would be a might too dicey.  I pulled across the road to the driver's side and yelled up "You need some help turning around?"

The driver looks at me quizzically, scowls a little, opens the door and climbs down.  Silence.  Says nothing.  

I say to him: "You don't want to continue on south because the switchbacks are too tight, you'll take out guardrails, damage your trailer, maybe even go off the cliff.  Not to mention that it's illegal."  

He bobbles his head, frowns and looks down the road, then at me, then up the road.  Then again at me.  

O.K..  He doesn't speak English.  

So I gesture at the road ahead and drag an imaginary knife across my throat.  Like all those Italian guys who used to beat me up in fourth grade.  

Nothin'.  Now he thinks maybe I'm gonna kill him?!

At that time I'm thinking, `he's got dark features, maybe he's Mexican.'  So I garble "Tu tiene ayudar a volver?"  (Trying not to screw it up and mistakenly order eggs and bacon from a Mexican menu).

Nothing.  More bobbling and frowning.  

O.K.  A little ... uh ... German.  

Nada. 

Finally, I'm reaching back to my Latin days.  But then I'm fearful that he'll think I'm damning or blessing him.  Or, even say something about underwear (Brother Hugh ... I get it.  I get it.).  

Then he starts talking.  And talking.  Nonstop.  Arms flailing, head spinning, eye's wide and wild.  

Hindi.  

Hindi?!!  

I don't know ANY friggin' Hindi.  

---

In a few minutes I'm standing on the double yellow line prepared to stop traffic while he turns his rig around.  He straightens out on the northbound lane and heads off, me giving him a thumbs up and hoping this gesture doesn't mean anything obscene about his mother.  

A mile north, milepost 306, he's pulled over by the AZ Highway Patrol.  I pass but then turn around, imagining what the police officer must be going through.  As I pull up to them both the driver smiles, points at me.  More bobbling.  

I explain events and the patrolman nods and tells him (shouts at him, like that will make him understand English better) he won't be issuing him a ticket because of what I say.  The driver smiles.  The patrolman shakes my hand and gestures to the driver to shake my hand.  The driver holds out his hand, confused.  It feels like vegetables gone bad as I shake it. 

I'm off.  

Way too much stimulation.  

Way too much.  

Waaaaayyyy too much.   

I Should Know Better

With the exception of five weeks in May and June I've averaged 19+ hours per week training on the bike.  Out here it's not so much the number of `miles' one logs per week because of the `no-choice' climbing.  So, it's a combination of feet climbed AND mile per week. 

I've been averaging 15,000+ feet climbed per week for the past 6 weeks, with last week topping at 26,000 feet and 244 miles.  Twenty one hours of training.  So far this year I've climbed more than 400,000 feet over 5,000 miles.  I'm on track to beat last year's record of 670,000 feet of climbing over 7,100 miles. 

In a short while I'll be out again (Friday) for 100 miles, 10,000 feet in 9 hours.  Prescott - Congress Loop

I did some gardening yesterday and my body feels like it's been in the ring with George Foreman for 15 rounds.  What?!!!  Gardening?

I was on my knees in the dirt, I kept getting up to get some tools, walking from one location to another in the yard, sitting in the dirt, bending over (and over and over) dozens of times.  My back and glutes are killing me. 

I should know better. 

Cycling all those miles, developing all those muscles ... has resulted in an imbalance.  I have enormous endurance.  But I find I'm inhibited from walking up and down the local roads.  I come back with sore feet and a sore lower back.

I have almost no upper body endurance, i.e., I can lift this and that with good strength but I tire quickly.  My arms were killing me last night because of all the digging.

I should know better. 

So it's time to recognize the obvious and get back on the indoor rower, do some core calisthenics and some upper body weight lifting.  If I don't `plan' it into my plan it won't get done.  Because, to me, it feels like I'm slacking off on cycling. 

I should know better.