How Bad do you want to be Good (on a recumbent)?

I know and can name at least 4 or 5 people who could say this better than me. 

The other day a new recumbent rider with a fairly distinguished history as a diamond frame rider said to me: "On the DF I'd be able to get my `climbing legs' in about 3 days of a long event.  Two weeks in the Dolomites in Italy on my carbon fiber high racer recumbent and I was still last up the hill, and half dead doing it. What does it take?"

A few of my thoughts were:

• On a DF you can `fall on' the pedals (dump your weight on each pedal) on the steep climbs;
• On a DF you can move your body around on the bike and recruit different muscles as you grind your way up a hill: sitting, out of the saddle, pushing your pelvis back or forward on the saddle, sit up and spin and rest, throw the bike left and right to loosen muscles and relax the back, etc...;
• A well trained recumbent rider can climb as fast as a well trained DF rider, all things (except bike) being equal;
• A recumbent rider has one, and only one, position on the bike and all the power comes from the legs and hips in that one position;
• A recumbent rider has to master `enduring' that one position the entire duration of a climb ... and that takes deliberate training of the muscular system (and mental foucus).

My thinking is that a recumbent rider will get his/her `climbing legs' after about 6 months of focused training. 

• On long climbs I vary the power but not the cadence.  This allows me to rest some muscles periodically. 
• On suddenly steep climbs I employ ankle pedalling, like a turbocharger that gives short bursts of power.
• Pushing up a long climb, even if the watts are low and the cadence is high, will have an impact on your knees that requires time to manage.  The knees experience stress forces unmitigated by the DF's ability to `fall' on the pedals.  To be competitive the recumbent rider must carefully, over several months, increase the capacity of the knees to deal with the stress.  Ligaments and muscles have to be developed and strengthened, cell by cell.  And that takes very careful and consistent training. 

I think it is less fun to train for performance on a recumbent than it is on a diamond frame.  On the DF the rider can flail his/her body and bike around ... which is lots of fun.  Not so on a recumbent. 

Do you think Lance could have given Ulrich `the look' if he had been on a recumbent?!  Nope.  That exquisite piece of drama wouldn't have occurred. 

So, back to the title of this post: How Bad do you want to be Good (on a recumbent).  It takes the same grim determination and discipline to be good on both platforms.  But ... a recumbent rider has to forego some of the `fun' and excitement that a DF rider enjoys.  At least that's what I think.

A few tips about tires and flats

I've been putting in more miles on the bike lately and, despite having great, grippy tires I've had 2 flats in the last two training sessions.  Each time the flat was due to going over a `goat head.' 

I ride the Bacchetta Ti Aero most of the time and it has 650 wheels and tires.  I use bombproof Velocity wheels because they've been extremely strong and reliable. 

When I ride the Bacchetta Carbon Aero (CA2) I have 700 wheels and tires.  The wheels are nothing really special but they're also strong and reliable. 

On both wheels I run Continental Gatorskins (650's and 700's).  I'd be happy with Conti 4000's too.  But ... I have what I have at this point.  (I also have some Schwalbe Durano Plus 700's and am comfortable with them). 

Some of my tires are `foldable' and some are wire bead.  For some reason it is very hard to mount both kinds of tires on the 650 wheels.  It isn't as hard to mount the tires on the 700's, but it is still quite a struggle. 

Getting a flat on the open road in the high desert or mountain grades (or anywhere else, for that matter) is a pain.  And having to struggle with getting the tire back on the wheel rim is even worse.  But I've made it easier with a simple fix.

I carry a small plastic vial of powdered chalk (you can get it in a hardware store).  When I'm down to the last few inches of mounting the tire I spread some powdered chalk on that section.  This substantially lubricates the interface between the rubber and the metal.  I  mean `SUBSTANTIALLY.'  I don't struggle anymore.  The first effort is usually the last effort. 

Another things I've begun doing (again) is putting tire liners between the tube and the tire.  I use to do this all the time when I rode in the city (Chicago - a lot of small pieces of metal easily penetrated any tire). 

Even though the tires I currently use are excellent they are still no match for mother nature's `goat head.'  They are sharp enough and just long enough to work themselves through the tire thickness (23's) that I use. 

Adding another layer of firm plastic between the tire and the tube seems to defeat the goat head. 

I've heard from others that they've had problems with the tire liners, that the `ends' of the liner are sharp enough to pinch the tube into flatting.  I've never experienced that problem but I've taken steps to minimize that from happening. 

First, I cut the edges of the tire liner to round it.  Then I take a metal file and `smooth' the edges.  Finally I carefully measure the tire liner so that it doesn't overlap and doesn't leave a big gap between the edges when in the tire.  This last step also helps reduce or eliminate a small `thumping' feeling I may get when descending on smooth road. 

"Bents can't climb" NOT!!!

I recently participated in a `race / ride' called the Skull Valley Loop Challenge. It's a 52 mile, 4800 feet of climbing loop from Prescott, AZ, south into the desert and back up the White Spars (RAAM / RAW route).

Though a few other folks in Prescott own recumbents and ride them I'm currently the only one that trains hard for time and distance (ultra stuff).

The previous year there were about 148 entrants in the SVLC. Having just moved to Prescott I entered on the Ti Aero (and weighing about 40 lbs more than I do now). I was the only recumbent. At that time I placed 52nd for a time of 3:21:00.

This year there were 179 entrants in the SVLC. Again, I was the only recumbent in the event. I rode the CA2. I didn't use any carrying device (no bag). I put a C02 cartridge, tube and levers in a small bag and stuck it in my jersey. I carried a 16 oz bottle of my usual maltodextrin / water mix. This year I placed 34/35 (tie) for a time of 2:49:00.  Skull Valley Loop Challenge - 2012   That is a 32 minute improvement from last year.

A few things having to do with my strategy.

• I kept a liquid diet the day before.
• I hydrated and fueled very well before the race.
• I wore (and needed) the external catheter. (Peed 4 times ... very discretely.
• The bike was stripped down, i.e., minimal water and tools. No bags. Triple 53/39/30 with a 10 spd 11/32 rear cassette. 700cc wheels of course.
• Last year I waited until ALL riders left the start line before I took off. This year I was at the front line and took off in the lead pack.

• PLANNED: On the 2 mile flat section before a 5 mile steep climb I pushed to be in the lead ... and was.
• PLANNED: When I hit the 5 mile steep climb I didn't challenge anyone; I just kept the HR at a reasonable number while I was passed by many cyclists.
• PLANNED: At the top of the 5 mile steep climb there is a screaming 19 mile twisting descent. I was not passed by ANYbody on the descent; I passed everybody within sight.
• PLANNED: At mile 30.2 begins a steady and relentless 9 mile climb (4 - 8% incline/grade). My plan was to crank up the hill at a HR of 140 - 142 bpm until the 6th mile. Then my plan was to crank up the hill at a HR no greater than 150 bpm.
• STRATEGY: What I may have lacked in climbing speed I more than made up for in stamina and endurance. I was passed only once by the owner of the LBS and his wife on a tandem. As the tandem was struggling to pass me I simply noted that if I kept my pace / HR I would pass them. And I did.
• PLANNED: When I passed the 6th mile of climbing I increased my effort / watts to approach the HR of 150 bpms for the next 3 miles. I began passing several other cyclists again. STRATEGY: Exploit my stamina and endurance, despite the fact that the cyclists all seemed to weigh 30 - 50 lbs less than me.
• PLANNED: After mile 40 the long climb transitioned to a series of steep, twisty descents and ascents until mile 48. I let myself make the maximum effort for speed with no regard to HR bpm. Hammer up the hills and scream down the descents. The tandem that had been trailing me passed me once (at clear maximum effort). I didn't challenge them at that time. I kept to my plans and passed them again and finally shortly thereafter.
• NOTE: It is common for cyclists, when they crest a hill, to back off on effort and rest a little. My strategy is to do the opposite. Once I crest the hill I dramatically increase my effort and watts to achieve maximum speed. This results in a few effects: first, it surprises those ahead of me when I pass them; second, it cuts into their motivation (psychological) to have someone inrease their effort just when they are backing off, exhausted.
• PLANNED: I continued to pass everyone I encountered that was ahead of me. There is a final climb (100 yards) to a crest, thereafter it is 4 miles of ranging descent to the finish line. I continued pouring everything I had into the remaining distance and, in the process, reeled in another 5 cyclists.

At the end of the `race / ride' I noted that I drank only half (8 oz) of the fuel I brought. I was not thirsty at all.

Had I tried to `burn all my matches' from the first to the last I don't think I would have done so well. The strategy and tactics that I used maximized natural advantages (stamina, endurance, power) and minimized the initial climbing disadvantages in the first 5 mile climb.

How I Rationalize My Athletic Failures

As I age (and age and age) I have a new ally in my many shortcomings: rationalization.

"I'd do better but I'm an `older athlete,' so that's o.k."

And then a patient, Cheshire smile.  (Now slowly blink your eyes and pat your belly).

Greying hair turning silvery white adds a sort of distinction to getting worse and worse and worse. Isn't that a dirty trick!

While wishing I were in the Olympics but searching for a way to let myself off the hook I came upon this interesting essay:
------
Against Athletic Pride
Brian Jay Stanley

Watching Olympic swimmers paddling through the water with gangly legs and arms, heaving their heads up for air, unequipped with fins or gills, I question the pride of the champions.

Goldfish in an aquarium move more gracefully.

Is not a contest of humans swimming like a contest of fish running?

If animals competed in the Olympics, few humans would win medals.

• An elephant or rhinoceros would hurl our strongest wrestlers from the mat like plastic dolls.
• Our fastest sprinters would lose the 50-meter dash to their cats.
• Schools of sardines would dominate synchronized swimming.

Feats of intellect should be accorded more honor than feats of athleticism.

To be an Einstein is to comprehend more of physics than any other mind in the known universe. But to win a gold medal in the Olympics is merely to stand atop one's narrow class of competitors, human beings, who share the same evolutionary handicaps.

The Olympics are really the Special Olympics.
------

Being old enough to find one's own history filed away in a folder in the National Archives (true) puts a new spin on cycling event records. When I turned 60 I was elated. Now I could be at the back of the pack and still be `first' in my age-category. "(F)or his age category" always followed "And a new record was set by Dan Fallon."

Like I have said many times in the past: I'm special. (Given my age).

Hoodoo `300' - 2013

Having crewed for the 500 this year the thought, of course, came to me as to whether or not I would consider entering the Hoodoo 500 for 2013 (mid-September).

The 500 is a `monster' race. And I mean `monster' and `race.' Forty-eight hours. Though the roads are fine there is an immense amount of (steep) and constant climbing (40,000 feet - give or take several thousand feed depending upon which device you use).

I concluded that though I could probably finish the 500 I couldn't do it as a race. I'd be very happy to consider it as a serious goal, and an exceptional accomplishment.

Just the other day my curiosity and interest has been renewed for this race, though. The race directors have announced that they will be offering two venues for the `Hoodoo.' The first option is just that, a 500 mile race (solo, team, unsupported voyageur). The second option is a 300 mile race (same categories) with a 24 hour limit. And on 300 miles of the same course as the 500 mile course.

There have NEVER been any recumbents registered for the Hoodoo 500. My conclusion is that this is the case due to the endless (many 13%ers) climbing.

I've currently ridden 4,700 miles with over 360,000 feet of climbing since Jan of 2012.  I'll likely close out 2012 with over 500,000 feet of climbing (7,000 - 9,000 miles) out here in the AZ mountains. Many of these climbs have included non-stop 22+ miles of 6 - 8% (with a few 12 - 16%ers thrown in).

I'm thinking seriously about doing the Hoodoo 300 as a non-supported Voyageur. The 300 has a finish time limit of 24 hours (instead of the 48 hours for the 500). The race directors will have drop bags at 2 or 3 locations for voyageurs.

So, I'd encourage others of us to consider this otherwise frightening race for their 2013 calendar. Remember, it can be done with crew support, as a 2 - 4 person team, or as an unsupported `Voyageur.'

Hills and Weight - ups and downs

I just finished crewing for a a friend in his solo effort to complete a 516 mile, 40,000 feet of climbing race (Hoodoo 500) in 48 hours.  He is a veteran of two RAAM completions (finisher) and a finisher in two previous Hoodoo 500 races.  So he had nothing to prove to anybody about his ability. 

As all ultracyclists know there are `times' and then there are `times.'  This year my friend experienced gastric problems that drastically reduced his ability to take in calories.  As the hours of his racing wore on he took on fewer and fewer calories.  Finally, after 17 hours, 247 miles and 20,000 feet of climbing he knew it was over for him.  His strength and endurance were fatally impacted by the inability to consume `fuel.'  (I mean, how many endlessly long 13% hills can you climb without eating?!)

It takes character and emotional resilience to be know when to stop.  Even more so, it takes maturity and experience not to blame yourself for not achieving the near-impossible.  And in this regard I found his wisdom and good cheer refreshing and ... motivating. 

Anybody who has crewed on an ultracycling event and says that they enjoyed it gets three free psychotherapy sessions from me!  Crewing is hard.  It's uncomfortable.  And it is extremely demanding. 

My normal weight is 185.  When I weighed myself after crewing it was up to 198.6 lbs.  (Today, after a 55 mile 4,800 feet of climbing 4 hour training ride - very well hydrated - it was 182.6) 

Why the dramatic weight gain?  Water.  Bowels fill up and peristalsis goes on strike.  Lack of physical movement causes my body to just `absorb' to the max. 

Crewing puts you in a car or van, following your racer, at an average speed of 13 mph.  One of the crew is driving.  Another is navigating and keeping in contact with the racer.  And I was preparing the food, hydration, recording everything in 15 minute increments. 

The racer doesn't stop.  And neither did the crew vehicle (except to get gas, pick up ice for the cooler, some grim road food, use the facilities).  And for this race (48 hour time limit) sleeping is something that may or may not happen as a crewmember. 

The crew is always `alert' to the racer.  If the racer tells us we're the best crew s/he's ever had a little bright light of sunshine enters our grim boring world.  If the racer is vomiting, has diarrhea, is cramping ... we scour our experiences and knowledge to make it `go away.' 

Me?  I'd rather race than crew.  Crewing is harder.

Difference between Bacchetta Ti Aero and CA2

July 31, 2012:

Saturday will see me riding from Prescott to Congress and back on the CA2. This will be the first real use of the bike through the mountain to desert and back terrain. The Ti Aero has been my steady-eddy for so long I'm wondering if there will be much sense of `difference.'

I know that there are many reading this who worship at the holy grail of the CA2 and anything Bacchetta, so I hope not to offend the true believers. It's a bike. A good one.

Aug 5, 2012:

I didn't quite get the CA2 dialed in in time for the Prescott-Congress-Prescott event yesterday. Since I swapped out the stock riser with a straight pipe riser and road stem I had some issues with securing the BFT. I contacted Bacchetta and they are sending me a certain fix. Assuming I get it (1 1/8 two bolt clamp) by the end of this week I should be able to ride the CA2 next Saturday.

So, I did the Prescott-Congress-Prescott training ride on the Ti Aero.

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/206596853

Aug 11, 2012:

I did the Prescott-Congress-Prescott circuit on the CA2 today. 

The bike (CA2) is about 90% of where it should be. Had a few adjustment issues with the FD and RD at the outset but they were fixed in a few minutes. Given that the wheels are 700s the center of gravity is about 1.5" higher than on the Ti. That was interesting but I adjusted to it by the time I got to Peeples Valley.

Gearing inches. A 39/30 on a 700 wheel gets me about 13% more gear inches than on a 650. All through the course I found myself `learning' that `x' grade required not a 39/30 on the 700 but a 39/32. This was a hard lesson. On rapid ascents (after a rapid descent) I found myself over gearing, i.e., pushing too high a gear than on the 650. I think this will take some time.

Actually, with these exceptions, there isn't much difference between the ti and the carbon fiber. The `ride' is no less harsh. It goes as fast as the engine can make it. They weigh about the same.

I'm going to get a set of long reach handlebars for the new bike; just like on the ti. With a longer reach there is even better steering control; though there is no `effort' difference so far as I can tell.

I'll probably put a different set of wheels on the CA2. Lighter and more `true' than the ones I've got on it now.

So ... what is the ultimate and fundamental reason for having both the Ti Aero and the CA2?  So that I can still train if one of the bikes is not operable.

Here's the Garmin for todays Prescott-Congress-Prescott on the CA2:

Saturday, Aug 11th: http://connect.garmin.com/activity/209320805

Aug 12, 2012:

Further thoughts about the difference between the Ti Aero and the CA2.

First, I'm glad I have both of them. Probably the only `bling thing' I've done in my entire life.

Then, because of my experience in both the midwest flatlands and the mountainous / desertic west I'm lucky to have something against which to compare each platform.

Next week I'm to do a 200K brevet (AZ Randonneurs - Show Low, AZ) with about 5,200 feet of climbing. Relative to my home training terrain I consider that course to be relatively sedate, though not flat. For the 200K Show Low brevet I'll use the CA2.

For terrain that includes lots of climbing I'll use the Ti Aero.

Why?

The larger 700 wheels on the CA2 give a small amount (5 - 10%) advantage on relatively even, flat terrain. Another way of putting it is that I don't need that gear inch advantage when lots of climbing is involved. The 650 Ti wheels and gearing match the demand of lower gearing, higher cadence, on the climbs. (The key, however, is to have the right climbing gearing in the first place; currently on the Ti I have a 55/39 up front and an 11/34 ten speed in back).

In mid-September I'll be doing the Skull Valley Loop Challenge (http://connect.garmin.com/activity/113716919) again. I've done this circuit many, many times since last September. I'll use the Ti Aero because of the climbing.

On November 2-3 I'll be doing a 24 hour race in Coachella, CA (http://24hrworlds.com/24/index.php?N_webcat_id=360). This is a dead-flat course where the 13% greater gear inch of the CA2 (and bike modifications to enhance aerodynamics) will be an advantage.

None of these events would amount to any fair use of either the Ti or the CA2 had it not been for the fact that I've lost 47+ lbs since July of 2011. I'm slowly losing weight (182 right now) as a consequence of not having a job and a fairly disciplined training regimen (4,400 miles and more than 350,000 feet of climbing since Jan 1 2012). Power to weight ratio rules.

Got Hit by a Car Monday

Training Route in Prescott Mountains

Coming north near Mile Post 304 a faded blue '90's American car was rounding a corner and clipped my left shoulder with his/her passenger side mirror. Mirror broke right off the car and hung there. Driver didn't stop.

First 3 characters on AZ license plate: AG3 .... Driver pulled over in a pullout 100 yards ahead. Despite me being stopped and leaning on the road barrier, waving him/her to come back, s/he looked at me for a few seconds and then just drove off.

Reported it to Prescott police and AZ Highway Patrol. I'm lucky. I'm planning on the driver not being lucky!

What remains a mystery to me -- gratefully -- is that I have not the slightest soreness. Not a bruise. Not a scratch.

It seems that the passenger mirror and the height of my left shoulder were identical. The mirror hit the `meaty' part of my shoulder (not much meat left these days, but ...). Despite having two Zephyl Spy Mirrors on the bike I had no awareness of it's presence. And usually I hear vehicles behind me (engine or tires on road). Nothing.

All I experienced was a `slap' on my left shoulder, the sound of the mirror breaking off from it's mount on the car, observing the mirror flopping loose on the car and the car ... accelerating.

I stopped, instinctively. I was to the right of the fog line where there was about 3 feet of paved shoulder, i.e., not on the road. Got off the bike. Was alert that such events often register no immediate pain but may entail tissue damage and other effects. Nothing. I leaned the bike against the road barrier (steep cliff drop-off immediately on other side of barrier). Then I looked at the bike. I inspected the CF Hard Shell seat for any damage. Nothing.

So this was a one in a million oddity that worked in my interest.

I have seen this piece of sh*t ratty car going back and forth on this road dozens of times. Faded, mottled blue, mid-'90's model American car.

Today I plan to drive my truck to a vantage point on this road (part of the RAAM course, a twisting, ascending road up a mountain side) and wait and watch for this vehicle. If I see it I'll carefully follow it to it's destination and then call the AZ Highway Patrol and let them put the pieces of the puzzle together.

I've come to `know' so many regular drivers over this 17.5 mile stretch of mountain grade road. They wave, I wave, give eachother a thumbs up, they often slow down and give me wide berth. They really can't exceed 30 mph because there are so many left and right turns that no vehicle can navigate the turns without skidding or burning rubber.

And then when I find this pr**k and justice is served ... I'm going to take that mirror as a trophy:)

My experience as a RAAM 2012 Official

Not too many years ago I was the clinical director of a psychiatric hospital.  As this was a `new' psychiatric hospital, founded by a religious order, it was undergirded by the assumption of good intentions and hard work until we got it properly up and running.  We had patients whose problems resulted in aggressive and violent behavior.  I found some, though scant, succor thinking that my peers and the religious hierarchy wanted to get at the root of the problem.

I was wrong.

Rather, senior management and the religious hierarchy were willfully blind to the chaos that permitted the violent spirals.  It was a long, painful and shameful chapter in my professional life.  But I have learned a lesson that I will never forget and is now like a very fine tuned `problem detector.' 

The closer we are to a problem the more likely we are to lose perspective.

For the past five days I was a RAAM Official between Time Station 6 and Time Station 10.  The dedication and good will of all the participants (racers, crew, race organizers, volunteers) is genuine and serious.  I would venture to say that several hundreds of thousands of dollars have been raised by these good folks for charities and the needy. 

But there were / are problems.  The spirit of `the race' is so intense that it fogs our ability to see the danger right before our eyes. 

The first entrants to the Race were solo men over age 60 and women (they started on Tuesday).  The second entrants to the Race were solo men under age 60 (they started on Wednesday).

The solo racers were very, very well served by their crews.  They were able to support their racer and maintain very safe practices.  Small errors were quickly discovered and corrected.  In very short order the racer and crew became focused both on the `race' and the logistics of the race.  The crew surrounded and supported their racer's needs, learning to anticipate stressful and difficult times.  My work as a RAAM Official brought me to a profound admiration of these heroes, both on the bike and in the support vehicles. 

-------------

On Saturday the 4- and 8-person teams of racers were started.  The team crews included as many as 20 persons and 4 and 5 support vehicles (SUVs, RV and motorhomes)

For the first 395 miles (to TS6 - Congress) of relatively level desert terrain allowed a slow but effective melding of complex logistics.  Racer exchanges were smooth.  Direct follow from vans at night took place with care and in full compliance with RAAM Rules. 

Not so when the teams began the long 135 mile series of steep and twisty climbs from TS6 to TS9 (Flagstaff).  The worry about keeping `race pace' saw some teams making racer exchanges every five minutes as they `burned' up 4 - 11% inclines for miles after mile. 

Several crew support vehicles became clearly confused, not knowing when to make racer exchanges, where the support vehicles need to be to make the exchange of racers. 

Some support vehicles were in clear violation of `no direct follow' rules.  Instead, they simply either forgot this rule or were trying to circumvent it.  In a few cases I saw support vehicles driving within 20 - 30 feet ahead of the racer, effectively forming a wind-free zone for the racer.

Crew vehicles were following racers at 8 - 12mph up narrow, mountain grade, twisting two lane roads with little, if any shoulder.  This caused commercial and private vehicles to `pile up' behind crew vehicles.  Private drivers were angry and frustrated because they knew that passing crew vehicles on numerous blind corners risked dangerous headon crashes.  Yet, amidst this danger private vehicles crossed the double yellow lines on blind corners risking head on collisions and the possibility of forcing RAAM crew vehicles and RAAM racers off steep cliff drop-offs.

As the RAAM race official for these dangerous roads (which, by the way, are strewn with `shrines' along side the roads for motorcyclists who have crashed, skidded and.or gone flying off the steep ravine drop-offs.)

Many RAAM crew were not competent in English and refused to stop and engaged in argumentation with the RAAM Race Official.

There were just too many racers and crew vehicles breaking the rules (leapfrog, don't shadow your racer, blocking crosswinds for their racer) for me to be effective.

Further there were very few RAAM Officials along this stretch of road (TS6 - TS10).   I found myself rolling up and back the route to demonstrate to the crew that I was `watching' them.  In some instances I believe the crew purposely played the `foreign-language game' and nodded while they continued to break the rules.

1. I think that the RAAM rules are adequate to maintaining safety. 
2. I think that there should have been more race officials in conspicuously marked vehicles. 
3. I think that the race official should have the independent authority to issue `official warnings' and `official penalties' in the mountainous terrain.  
4. I think that the race official would be aided by having `Yellow' and `Red' tickets that they could issue to crew vehicles as an immediate and tangible signal of danger.   

 Candidly, I think that there were many close (potentially fatal) calls on this route.  They were lucky. 

I think brevets / randonneuring is `out' for a while

Several years ago I did Lon Haldeman and Susan Notarangelo's Mountain Week PAC Tour.  It was a great experience and was really well done by the PAC Tour folks.  What I remember most, though, was the fact that Lon told us all that riding on the shoulder of the road was not an option.  It was a requirement.  He then, very gently, referred to the cyclists he has known that were killed by cars and trucks.  On most days Lon would ride the route with us.  He would always ride the shoulder.  Though he didn't say it this way I understood him to be stating that `what's the loss of time and effort in comparison to being killed by a truck from behind?!'  

Yesterday I joined a really great group of randonneurs in a 300K  brevet from Flagstaff, AZ, to and from the Grand Canyon.  Most of the route was challenging and remarkable.  However, there is a 10 mile section of road that is lethal.  I decided to `hitch' a ride from a passing truck to avoid getting killed by an 18-wheeler.  

Randonneur brevets and permanents are a great format for cycling and fellowship.  But the story below introduces an element of lethality that ... well, I'm just not going to allow to happen to me.  

Unless I can `fix' the problem described below I'll hesitate doing more brevets and focust on challenging training routes that I design, well-regarded `organized events,' and competitive ultra-endurance events that may involve a crew.   

Below is a note that I forwarded to the AZ Rusa ride organizer regarding the 300K brevet yesterday. 

--------------------

When I got to the Motel 6 last night around 8:30pm I told Ryan that a) I was not MIA, still out on the course, b) that he wouldn't be signing the RUSA card because I completed all but 7 miles of the course, approximately 183 miles with 9,000 ft of climbing..

The course to and from the Grand Canyon is great and well worth it.


However, coming south on 89 when the rider gets to Antelope Hills the road becomes a 4 lane divided highway (at the start of the Kaibab National Forest) I had expected that the road shoulder would also be wider, too. Not the case.

Instead, right of the white line there are deep, `industrial strength' 6"x6" sharply ribbed gouges constituting the `rumble strip.' To the right of the rumble strip there was only 2 feet of road before a steep graded drop off to the gravelly ground.

This section is difficult for any recumbent bike. Add to it the 3 - 5% incline and a gusting 20 mph wind from the west and it is more than difficult; it is potentially lethal.

The upright bike has far more balance capability than the bent. The upright rider can get out of the saddle and rock the bike back and forth with minimum of difficulty in order to ride a straight line.

The bent rider doesn't have that option. By design the recumbent bike and the rider are one unit. Under difficult conditions the bent rider has to be far more careful of road conditions, weather conditions and crosswinds.

After riding about 3 miles on AZ Route 89, after it turned into divided lanes, I concluded that it was too dangerous for me to continue. I hailed a truck and he gave me a lift about 7 miles to a (Chevron?) gas station shortly past where the shoulder opened up again.

On 3 occasions while riding on that narrow, rumble strip shoulder the wind blew me into the rumble strip, further destabilizing me such that I entered the traffic lane. Fortunately there was no vehicle when that happened or I would have simply been road kill. Cars, RVs, and 18 wheelers were wizzing past at 75 - 80 mph. 

My decision was the right one.  And if I were to have done anything different it would have been to do it sooner, as soon as I recognized that the road was unrideable.

When the truck driver dropped me off I completed the remainder of the route on my own power, eventually trailing Russ Cummings and a few other riders into Motel 6.


Again, this was a very challenging and rewarding brevet. But I'm going to have to give this issue much thought for safety reasons.

GREAT LEADER SPORTS PERFORMANCE AIDS

Two things combined to bring this little story back to mind. First, we're getting all manic again about RAAM this time of year. Second, I just got the Hammer Products catalog again, exceeding the last issue's `bloviation' factor by multiples.

---------------------------------
“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 cannisters @ 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. AND 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-a** cyclist!

The `bird'

Slow learner. Or, avid contestant for the Darwin Award.

Motorcyclists (those that survive) love the roads around here. More road shrines testifying to terrestrial ineptitude than overnight shootouts in my old Chicago `hood.'

Since I've been riding these roads this past year I've had two distinctly different experiences with this same species, i.e., motorcycle-istas.

1) As they'd pass me from behind they'd display a raised hand with the two end fingers raised. As they'd approach me they'd extend their left hand and point to me. ??

2) When I'd stop amongst them for one reason or another they'd ALWAYS be cheerful, respectful and complimentary.

Today I rode about 75 miles (and 5,100 feet of climbing). It can be really desolate and gorgeous with the wide open vistas and glass smooth roads.

I came to the turnaround point, overlooking Yarnell Grade on the RAAM route. Using a wide parking area near a truly gritty AZ ghost town slop joint I encountered no fewer than 30 `bikers' in all their muscle metal and leather. My head was so full of `impressions' (freak show, dung beetle convention, pre-nursing home send off, road shrine organizing committee, bail fund party).

As I slowly wound my way through them to the exit back onto the road one of the guys says: "Hey, Dude! Where are your racing leathers?!"

I come from stock that if they can't start a fight will wait around as long as it takes for time and circumstance to create one. So, I stop.

There I am. In my day glo lycra. Sitting on my Ti Aero. Compression socks qua knickers. Camelback hose looking more like an IV drip.

I frog-leg it over to the trog who made the comment. Not having immediate recall of my compendia of James Lee Burke metaphors and simile and coughed: "I got somethin' you don't got!" Like a scene from West Side Story `trog' looks at me like I'm a gnat, nods in both directions to his droogs, steps toward me, smiling from behind facial burr, and says: "Like what!"

Me: "Medicare."

Big smile :)

The friendliest, warmest bunch of folks I've met in a very, very long time.

After some friendly chatting and signifying ("Why you ridin' a paper clip?" "What's that tube coming from your pants? You lose your `connection'?") I went my way, down a screaming 6 mile descent to Kirkland Junction.

As I'm tucked and aero on one particular descent, rolling a hefty 45 mph into shockingly sissified crosswinds, I look into my Zephy Spy Eyes and see row after row of motorcycle headlights tailing steadily about 50 feet behind me. Like I'm some kind of parade leader.

We get to the flats, I stear to the right a bit and they all pass me, two by two. As they pass they all raise their right hand, extending the far fingers.

I'm wonderin', "Should I restrain myself from flippin' them the bird, like I always do?" Or, "should I do the same and ignore my west side Chicago roots that tell me that the `far finger salute' means `bull****.'"

Later, climbing back up the mountain into Prescott several of them are parked on outcrops in the road looking at the breathtaking vista of the Prescott National Forest. We're all old friends now, waving and hooting at eachother as I pass them.

Good day on the bike.

Snatches ...

Day of differences.  Maybe even contrasts. 

• Did my 2nd fastest training run today from Prescott to Wilhoit and back.  34 miles and 4200 feet of climbing; several Cat 4 climbs.  2:59:25. 
• A good riding mate, Russ, passed me climbing up from Wilhoit and slowed down to chat a bit.  Russ led me up from Prescott to Flagstaff a few years ago.  When I got there I was totally fried.  Russ, gave me a big smile, wished me well and took off back down to Prescott.  He rode on the treacherous switchbacks, climbing up from Clarkdale and Jerome to the top of Mingus Mtn and down into Prescott Valley, arriving home by 9pm ... in the dark!  Incredible athlete. 
• Later in the afternoon I happened to be in a shopping mall where the parking lot was taken over by an `old car' show.  Dozens of `classic' cars, reconditioned by their owners.  Frankly, it was grimly sad.  All these old 60+ guys sitting in lawn chairs in front of their $30K cars in shorts with t-shirts saying `Question Authority.'  Pot bellies.  Old '50's and '60's music blaring.  They looked to be desperate for attention and adulation.  The ugly, casual excess of it all. 
• I drive to the town center where there are a few dozen old guys on motorcycles, in their leather, fringe, rip-rapping noise.  They all look like dirtied up faux-dangerous old farts.  One guy had a vest that said 'Insane Outlaws' on the back.  Sloppy moustache, headbands, tattoos.  Desperate to be seen as `desperados' on bikes.  I couldn't help imagining seeing that guy with the `Insane Outlaw' vest in 10 years in a wheelchair, diaper wet and soiled, with a t-shirt saying: 'Cranky Noncompliant.'

For RAAM and RAW racers and crew

The mountains start in Congress and continue on and on.

Though I haven't done an analysis I would guess that exhaustion and rookie status takes out most riders before Durango.

Racers would do well to learn how to pace themselves when they reach Congress. The stretch to Flagstaff is just ... plain ... UP.

I'm including links to the Garmin data on some rides (not races) I've done between Congress and Flagstaff. Worth studying.

Congress to the top of Yarnell (Yarnell Grade) isn't steep but it is the first persistently long climb. Good pavement, nothing more than 7%.

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/161958434

Skull Valley to the summit just before descending into Prescott will test a racer's capacity for patience and strategic climbing. The first 6.45 miles is bad road, tarred cracks. There is no shoulder, just dangerous drop-offs from pavement to dirt and rocks. But the grade is gentle, mostly 2 - 5%.

When the racer crosses the cattle guard and enters the Prescott National Forest the road becomes ideal, with wide and safe shoulders. But the grade to MM 5 (6.5 more miles) becomes much more demanding and consistently steep (6 - 10%). It just grinds on.

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/175962998

From Prescott to Flagstaff the racer will encounter 91 miles of everything climate and terrain can throw at a racer. Long smooth flats, narrow roads with steep switchbacks, steep descents (Jerome to Clarkdale), and the grim climb up from Sedona to Flagstaff. (Tip for recumbent racers: climbing on switchback filled roads for dozens of miles I've found that `tilting' my handlebar up a bit makes maneuvering easier. Avoiding potholes and sand may require quick steering changes; inevitable `wobbling' on steeper sections ... it helps to not have to deal with the bar ends hitting your legs)

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/27857918

The `West'

Seeing all the news about Sebring, BC24, and, now, Calvin's has made me miss being more centrally located, i.e., in the midwest. 

I've never `done' Sebring but would like to.  I've `done' Calvin's a few times.  And drove four days and spent way too much $$ to recently have done BC24. 

In central AZ there are many, many incredible competitive cycling events within a 6 hour drive. 

And nearby southern CA is a mecca for cycling. 

Reorienting myself to new events out here is a bit disorienting.  Especially when my participation in some events is that of `the recumbent.' 

So, as with life in general, one is either passive or active.  Take what is/isn't there.  Or make it happen. 

Action defines us. 

Taking what is `here':

• May 26: Borrego Springs Double Century, (http://www.mtnhighcycling.com/).  14,900 ft of climbing.  Incredible event.  (5 hr drive)
• June 2: 300km Brevet (AZ Randonneurs) from Flagstaff to the Grand Canyon and back.  (2 hr drive)
• July 21: Desperado Dual (200 miles), in Panguitch, Utah, (http://www.spingeeks.com/events/desperado-dual/).  (6 hr drive)
• Sep 15: Skull Valley Loop Challenge in Prescott.  54 miles, 5,400 ft of climbing.  (in town)
• Oct 13: Cochise Classic (234 miles), out of Sierra Vista, AZ, through and around the Chiracahua Mtns (http://www1.perimeterbicycling.com/cochise-cycling-classic/).  (4 hr drive)
• Nov 2: World 6-12-24 Hr Time Trials (http://24hrworlds.com/24/index.php?N_webcat_id=360), Indio, CA.  (5 hr drive)

Making events `here':

• UMCA Time/Distance course.  Using AZ highway 60 from Aguila to Salome and back (RAAM route).  20 mile section to be measured, sanctioned and certified by USATF and UMCA
• Toyota Arizona Proving Ground.  45 miles west of Phx.  10 mile oval.  Perfect venue for Time/Distance competition.

So, `taking' and `making' challenging cycling events right here in my back yard. 

I'm a `junkie' ...

I was off the bike traveling for about 10 days.  `Me' without the bike for ten days ... is not a pretty site.  I was tense, withdrawn, quiet and very, very controlled. 

To ease back into cycling I took the bike out for a 15 miler (1890 feet of climbing).  Out and back. 

On the way back I found myself so much more calm; breathing much more deeply.  So much less tense. 

Wondering (almost) aloud I concluded that I have an addiction to the expression and release that cycling gives me.  I'm a `junkie.' 

It get's simpler

Since I `retired' from my `job' last June my `work' life has resulted in a number of benefits. 

• I've lost 32 lbs and expect to drop another 20 lbs (170 is a reasonable goal for now);
• I've been able to devote time to learning more about mechanical things (bikes, houses, cars);
• Bicycling has become less `brand' and `platform' focused and more `skill' and `performance' focused;
• I read much, much more (non-fiction);
• My overall health has dramatically improved (lower weight, lower cholesterol, better blood lipids);
• Though I never drank much alcohol I drink even less now;
• Doing rando brevets is more likely now than before;
• Allowing myself to target very challenging `ultra' cycling events, several times each year. 

Going from the flatlands of the midwest to the mountains of Arizona has been an important and challenging bicycling experience.  So much that I didn't know, requiring careful observation and consideration.  Pacing; gearing, attention to the fact that the unpopulated mountains and desert areas demand that one think in terms of `what if' ... I have a mechanical breakdown, run out of water / fluid, I'm over / underdressed.

A tangible, well-earned skill development with both rear wheel and front wheel recumbents: what terrain offers greater challenges and benefits to either.  `Growing' to be non-partisan to either platform, but to appreciate what each has to offer.  Avoiding the `which is better?' trap. 

Struggling, mostly successfully, with other cyclists who are biased against or in favor of `x' platform or `y' manufacturer.  Getting better at staying out of the fray and just doing what is challenging and rewarding to me.

Work in progress.  

Is the Pope Catholic?!!

In competitive cycling it is folly and a waste to have much of an ego. 

I got a new pair of pedals/cleats the other day and took them out in the mountains on a 50 mile, 4,800 feet of climbing shakedown.  They work just fine, but it took some dialing in, of course.  The `of course' means that I was unable to unclip about 3 times and fell over when stopping. 

There is a steep 15% -17% gravelly, pot-hole filled switchback at the start and end of my usual training ride.  I typically stop and get off the bike when finishing a ride rather than a) squeeze one more ounce of effort out of me at the end of a hard ride, b) risk falling down, over or off the bike.

Today, of course, as I coasted to the stop I had a problem with unclipping and ... fell over.  A lady in her car was slowly making a turn onto the road I had fallen over on.  She stopped and said: "Are you O.K.?"  Hugely embarrassed I told her I was fine and thanks for asking. 

Then she did it. 

She said something that makes the authoritarian perfectionist in me explode into a chastising rage. 

She said: "Y'a sure?" 

At least 3 million, 47 thousand, 9 hundred and 88 bombs went off inside me.  (No.  Really, it is the deep-in-the-marrow-of-my-bones sense of original shame / sin with which I was born.  Any fault is a pretext to send me to hell, proving I am born baaaaaad.)

So, there I was, a 66 year old man, father, husband, over-educated, `doctor' laying on the road, his bike on top of him with his foot still clipped into the pedal. 

And she says "Y'a sure?"  

And I said: "No. Actually, I think I'm dead but just don't know it yet." And I slowly upright myself, hold on to the bike, staring at her with dis-mis-badly-placed anger (and shame). 

Pointless. 

Cycling gives us unlimited opportunities to, one more time, try to practice humility. 

Year to date training stats

Quick training log tally this afternoon yielded these data since Jan 1, 2012:

• 43 outdoor training sessions;
• 1,501 miles;
• 97,513 feet of climbing.

Today's training will add 54 miles and 5,700 more feet of climbing. 

Strikes me as odd that I could wind up with as few as 6,000 miles of riding with over 400,000 feet of climbing for the year. 

Accommodating the `real' world.

One of the big `draws' of cycling, for me, is how endless the learning process. 

Each time I encounter a disappointment, a `mistake,' or a poor performance .. I feel like I have another `thing' to work on.  A few examples:

• The recent (my first) 400 km brevet demonstrated:
• My old ways of being a paceline gypsy (following other riders who know the course) don't work on brevets.  Rando riders typically aren't trying to finish in record time.  I was frustrated and angry about that.  
• So I had a choice: accept what it takes to be self-navigating or just go as slow as the fastest rider ahead of you will allow.  
• I'm choosing to be self-navigating so as to have no one to blame but myself if my performance doesn't live up to my expectations.

•  A 42 mile ride with about 4,300 feet of climbing a few weeks ago.
• My riding buddy was about 5 years older and 50 lbs lighter than me.  He left me in the dust.
• So I have a choice: stay heavy and go slower, or lose weight improve my power to weight ratio and go faster.  
• I'm choosing to lose weight and improve power to weight ratio and speed.  

•  Riding a silk purse (my stable of expensive and high performance bikes) but equipping like it was a sow's ear. 
• It's the same with folks who spend a lot of money on a health club thinking that such an expense would force them to go more often.  It doesn't happen.  They simply choose to not get what they paid for.  
• So I have a choice: consider the mountainous terrain in which I live too hard and accept poor performance (rationalizing), or see the terrain as an opportunity and gear up the bikes, components, and equipment that will support powerful performance.  
• I feel guilty and selfish spending money on `bicycle stuff.'  But, being serious -- grave! -- about building performance means that I deal with the `value' issues and spend and do what it takes to achieve my potential. 
• I'm choosing to accept and work with the self-critical thoughts and feelings, hoping that I can distinguish between self-interest and being selfish.  A very, very tight line!!  
• ("If you were really a good person you'd give up all your possessions, move to Calcutta and serve the teeming millions suffering from poverty!")

 I am simply blessed - lucky!- fortunate beyond belief to have good health, a stable world around me, loving and accepting family, friends, and neighbors. 

Itty bitty Rant.

Maybe it is a generational thing.

Whenever I speak with a service provider on the phone or in a store they refer to me as `Daniel.'  Frankly that's offensive to me.  For the previous many decades the customer would be referred to as Mr. or Mrs. `X.'  I did it.  They did it, too. 

I whined about this in the presence of my eldest son.   He's in his early 40's and he, too, found it offensive.  But, he's got some of the `in your face' assets of his old Pa. 

He told me about a time he was on the phone with a customer service person working to resolve a problem for him.  She referred to him as `David' so often that he finally got fed up and said: "Have we had sex?!"  "Do we know me well enough that you can call me by my first name?!"  

I like the chutzpah! 

But, in my maturity I now find myself saying: "I mean no disrespect but I'd prefer that you not call me by my first name.  Mr. Fallon is better."  I once had a person reply that she thought I was arrogant by saying that.  So, in that instance I stated: "Fine.  Don't call me `Mr' Fallon.  You, and only you, are expected to refer to me as DOCTOR Fallon!!"

I know what she was thinking: "Not only is this guy arrogant, he's an arrogant p***k, too!?"

Right.  I can be.  I get my druthers, too, sometimes.

O.K.  Rant over.  Return to normal civility.

This `happens' about every six weeks or so ...

The other day I installed a new carbon fiber hard shell seat Bent Up Cycles on my Ti Aero. I replaced the seat that I severely modified in 2010 while living in the flatlands of Illinois. The 2010 modification chopped off 2.5 inches at the bottom and drilled mounting holes about 1.25 inches back, allowing for a much steeper recline for flatland riding.

I don't live in the flatland anymore. On the steep, twisty roads in the mountain country of AZ less of a recline helps me descend more safely.

As I also converted from a 9spd to a 10 spd setup (50/34) it was time to take the bike out to the mountain for a shakedown. I met up with a local (DF) cycling buddy (who is 50 lbs lighter than me but about 3 years older than me).

I was carrying a 16 oz bottle of fluids - maltodextrin, protein powder and electrolyte (bite me `Hammer'), a 70 oz bladder of water, and about 7 lbs of tools, tubes and tires. He carried a 24 oz water bottle, 2 tubes and a patch kit.

The route was 54 miles that included about 4,800 feet of climbing. For the first 32 miles I made myself keep the climbing lead. Show off! I was redlining the HR.

On the descents I restrained myself in the interest of safety (too many 70 degree+ angle turns on the descents).

In the mountains the winds blow only one direction: in your face.  No matter that you may do a 180 about face, the wind is still going to be `in your face.'

On the `out' leg of this route there is dismally annoying 9 mile descent averaging about 4 percent (which you have to ascend on the way back). Again, what with the headwind and crosswinds I was careful to stay under 35 mph.

We then turned SW for 4.5 miles on rollers. Given that I have less recline (don't even use a headrest any more in the mountains) I deduced that I might be able to let him hold my wheel and benefit from drafting me. He's a skilled rider.  I pushed ahead in the late teens and early twenties and he was nicely tucked behind me.

At the turnaround point I suggested he lead out for a while as I was `plumbed' and he might not `understand' that. He registered shock and surprise at `plumbing,' and thanked me for the `heads up.'

We came to the first hill and I couldn't/wouldn't allow him to crest the next 4.5 miles of hills before us. Up the watts and HR!

At mile 34 of 54 I realized that my avg HR was way past threshold for the last 2.5 hours. From a `training' perspective that was about 115% of `more than enough.' I stopped the `threshold' anaerobic stuff and returned to a decent 140-120 bpm range for the rest of the route, which was almost entirely uphill.  He was steady and took a big lead on me. 

At the end of the training route I have about 2 miles remaining to ride home. These last two miles has me climbing a steady 8 - 13% grade before I dip down the last 300 yards to my home.

Came home. Was happily humble. Felt entirely spent. Showered and went to bed for two hours.

Woke up, uploaded the Garmin data and noted that I had the device `stopped' for about 6 miles of uphill return. I stopped to make an adjustment on the angle of the SRAM TT500 lever and failed to turn the Garmin back on.

Prescott-Kirkland Out and Back

I realllly had a good time!

2012 Cycling Calendar

Cycling Calendar - 2012

Every year I compulsively schedule cycling training and events as if I had no other life.  So, this calendar is `aspirational' in nature. 

In a nod to some semblance of balance in my life I've reduced training rides to 3 hours, rather than open ended `however long it takes me to do `xx' miles.'  The intention here is to utilize the `intensity' v. `duration of hours' method of training. 

Learning, learning, learning

The profound performance of so many athletes at Sebring this year is inspiring and exciting. 

In conversation with one of the winners he told me that his coach had him substitute intensity for duration.  That is, train in tempo and threshold levels for a shorter period of time.  Although one would be skeptical of this method it worked extremely well for him and for a few others setting distinguished records last week.  He and at least one of the 24 hour RQ winners never trained for more than 3 hours during any one training session.  And look at the stunning result!

Honestly, that is good news for me.  The next several months have been coming at me like a tsunami.  Reconstruction of our house, relocating to a temporary living quarter, being onsite as much as possible during the reconstruction, laying the tile and laminated floor on both levels on my own ... and then fitting in relationships and training?!!

I'm planning to do several ultracycling events this year.  These, in and of themselves will be time and energy consuming.  So I'm going to try to follow the intensity v. duration plan.  There are two local training courses I am anticipating using for this work.  The first is right out my front door.  Over the mountain and back again.  34 miles and as many feet of climbing  The other is what is called the `Air Park.'  the Air Park is comprised of an industrial park and a medical complex.  Spikey and demanding.  One can easily spend 3 hours building both open road skills and hill-climbing power.  Spikey climbs and open road course

Maybe I've clicked to a way to reduce the size of that tsunami. 

Terrain ... terain ... tr ...tr... TRAIN

My patient and loving wife remarked the other day "You're really training hard!" 

Thickheaded Scot that I am I responded: "Not hard.  Consistent.  Better." 

(Nothing passes without some resistance.  Could be the `blood.')

Having committed to doing a 24 hour race in Texas in mid-April (Bessies Creek 24) I'm afforded an external structure in my habits and thought.  Some day I'll have the courage of a Buddhist (let the present percolate into your consciousness).  But for the moment I'm a willing servant to the simple distraction of a carrot in front of my nose.

Bessies Creek 24 is a 21 mile loop course that you keep riding until the 24 hours is up.  BC24 has 80 feet of climbing each 21 mile loop.  And I live in mountainous terrain where I climb 80 feet just to get the mail!

Racing on flat terrain is completely different from climbing 5,400 feet in 54 miles.  To assume that mountainous road cycling translates effortlessly to the steady pacing of a full day of balanced and steady effort is ... a bad assumption.

So.  What am I to do in my training?

Fortunately, though there is nary a level lick of road in these parts ... I've been granted a favor by my new found cycling friend, Mike Cash.  Several months ago he took me out to the Chino Valley Loop.  Just 12 miles north of me there is a rare high plateau in these parts:  Chino Valley.

Today I delighted in several loops of about 9 miles each for just under 3 hours and 44 miles.  Flat! 

Flat Training # 1
Flat Terrain # 2

With the discovery of this local flat terrain added to the steeply challenging hills and mountains ... this is training terrain!

Consistency.  And balanced hard work. 

BC24 here I come!