Monday 1 December 2008

My Epic Sunday Ride.

The weather has been cold, windy and wet for weeks. There has been some decent riding but lots of misery, too.

The plan was to ride from home on Saturday, drive out to the in-laws Saturday night and ride 5.5hrs in the mountains on Sunday. The weather was shaping up to be great. I'd been off the bike for a bit and I really wanted to ride.

I did 3 hours from home on Saturday as planned. I'd been sick for a few weeks and had actually dropped some weight in the process. Not my original strategy but I'd take it. I was worried I'd feel the time off and that the infection might still be lingering. I felt a lot better than expected.

I knew the next day would be a harder ride so I held back a few times when all I really wanted to do was crank it up and see how long I could put out some juice. I wanted to know what was in the tank. I did a few jumps and a couple of 5min pieces but mostly solid, steady tempo. I was still itching when I got off the bike.

Went to lunch with the family, watched SpongeBob and was in bed by 8:00.

Brilliant sleep. I woke up at 8:00am and wrestled with my son while we ate breakfast. I filled some water bottles and pumped my tires. I went to the bedroom where I had all my kit laid out and then out onto the balcony to make my final clothing choices.

Wow. All the recent high winds and rain had cleared the air and the sky was deep, cloudless and blue. I could see two ranges in in the direction I was headed. It was 22*C and the flags were limp, with an occasional twitter just to let you know they were there. This was going to be epic.

Final clothing choices made (and accounting for at least 2, 15 minutes descents and 1, 30 min+ descent with altitude) I sprang into the bedroom. I laid out the Power Meter, HR strap, Powerbars, ipod, phone, apple, shoes, socks, vest, leg and knee warmers, shorts...shorts?...SHORTS!... AND JERSEY!

Damn.

I fumed.

I ate the apple.

I packed up my crap and carried my bag to the door. I put on my shoes. Then I picked up my son and handed him his ball and we went to the park.

We played soccer (this kid can run with a ball!), some basket ball, a game where he threw the ball down the court, chased it, then he picked it up and I had to carry him to the hoop and we watched some bigger boys play baseball.

Then we went to Toys'R'Us and I bought the first Christmas gift of the season.

I had a great ride on Sunday. Epic ride.

Tuesday 25 November 2008

The Quest of Bob Dopolina

The following is a condensed version of THE LEGEND OF BOB DOPOLINA - THE MAN, THE BIKE, THE QUEST. soon to be available on Bantham Books.

Although his exact origins remain shrouded in mystery, biographers generally agree that Bob Dopolina started out fixing flats and counting spokes some time in the early eighties in a very busy bike shop in the wilds of Canada. Once he had proven himself to be the best flat fixer and spoke counter imaginable he was taken under the wing of a former Irish National Team rider turned shop Manager named Seamus Gantley.

Seamus taught him how to wrench, curse, drink and generally annoy the boss. Bob was a fast learner. A few short years later Bob was running his own bike build crew and was eventually promoted to head mechanic supervising 6 poor souls in a shop that grossed nearly 10 million a year, from a single location, in the mid-eighties. No small feat.

Eventually Bob moved on and found himself working for another bike shop with a Shop Manager who's knowledge of the dark side of the wrench was second to none. (NOTE: In some circles there is speculation that this second mentor was a mysterious man named Andy Bedlam but this is still in dispute) Not much is known of this second mentor to Bob only that his brother had a beard and he rode the only Carbon Vitus never to have failed. It is rumoured that it was he who, during a particularily long and blustery winter, while logging endless base miles, passed on to Bob all the bike VooDoo known to man.

Several years later, after a particular bad day building no less than 30 Sidewalk Angels, a task that all who knew and now feared Bob agreed was well beneath Bob's ever more powerful abilities, Bob had a vision that would change his life;. Bob decided it was time to set out on his own.

He summoned up the courage and broke free of his mentor. He sold all of his worldly possesions except his bikes, his books and his music. He stuffed what remained of his previous life inside a 1988 Oldsmobile Delta 88 Royal that pointed west. Within a scant 72 hours he had traveled to the other side of that vast, frozen expanse of wilderness known as Canada to become a Shop Manager in his own right. This shop was a high end, high profile deal that catered to Freds and World Champions alike. Here Bob Thrived.

It was at about this time that Bob also came into his own as a racer. Surviving a serious injury he eventually claimed a National Championship of his own. But Bob was not satisfied.

In true Bob Dopolina fashion he set out in search of bigger challenges this time travelling half way around the world to the land of bikes and Bin Lan - Taiwan. Here he quickly established a new Elite Team, began product testing for several high profile bike companies and generally had a good time. His wrenching experience and product knowledge led him to become the Manager of the Campagnolo Service Center for Taiwan, China, Hong Kong and Vietnem. He worked with OE factories in support of Campagnolo and Continental AG. He was responsible for handling warrantiy claims for 14 different brands. But still Bob yearned for more. It was time for the next chapter in the saga of Bob Dopolina to begin.

Bob did the only thing he could do; He opened his own company -The BDop Cycling Company - and began sourcing products manufactured in Taiwan for OE and aftermarket customers. He also began selling consumer direct to North America, Europe and Oceana. And he saw that it was good.

Bob continues on his quest to this day.

Sunday 21 September 2008

Bike racing is still fun! Who'da Thunk it?

Found out on Wednesday that I had been registered for a race the following Saturday (damn, I've been busy). A short, flat circuit race and I was racing in my age category. All right, I thunk, what the hell. I'll go.

Then I remembered that my wife would still be away so it was me and my 20 month old son all week. What the heck, he'd go with me. The wives/girlfriends could look after him during the race (he loves the ladies) and it would be his first bike race.

All good.

Then I woke up really tired, had to get us both ready and drive an hour and a half to the race. I felt a bit of trepidation because of my last race (http://oldguyracer.blogspot.com/2008/05/alishan-race-18-may-2008.html) and being a bit worried about dragging my son around all day. He is bike crazy and I knew it would be a lot of work. But I soldiered on.

The race was a mix of all the masters cats (from 30 years old and up). There was one former track pro now in his mid 60's. That was kinda cool. Once we were staged I looked around and recognized a few riders and some of the bigger teams.

This race was nice because it was tied in with several other events schedules throughout the weekend in this SMALL town and there were a lot of spectators all around the course. The finish was 3 deep. That is always cool.

I am riding for this club which is basically most of the guys I've been training with and some of their friends. They reg'd me and tossed me a jersey to wear. They keep changing sponsors as they can't seem to get anyone to commit to (and honour) the sponsorship agreements. They ink jerseys and then, 2 months later, there's another jersey. I still don't know what the name of the team I was riding for is...

Bang and we're off. It's 4 laps and we decided to let the team with 6 guys play their hand for the first 2 laps. They're usually a strong and aggressive team so I wanted to let them do some extra work and see if they really could control the race. Having the biggest team doesn't mean you can control things. That is a skill. I wanted to see if they had it or not.

The best laid plans of mice and men...4 km into the race one of my team mates decides that the plan is out the window and he jumps. When he is reeled in the other guy goes (there's really only 3 of us to mix it up). So then I take my turn (which seems to be the new plan).

My first 2 jumps felt sluggish. I could hold good speed but I had no snap. I found it really hard to jump away from the group. The next few felt better but I knew I didn't have that kind of snap today. This meant I could offer a solid lead-out to our sprinter or look for a break.

We continued attacking the race. A few laps of this and the field was thinner, the team with 6 riders never got a chance to play any card and we were at the bell.

The course started out along a 2-3 km long steel girder bridge that, I guess, was really old, recently restored and the reason why we were racing on it. It stretched across a very wide river, was totally exposed and had a nasty cross-head wind. At least the surface was good.

Then a quick right, up an on-ramp and onto a closed section of the hi-way and a cross-tailwind that saw me jump over 60km/h, repeatedly. Coming off the highway there was a sharp right that dropped down, slightly off camber, off the hi-way bridge onto a wee gravely road. 50m after that was another hard right corner and then into the last 1.5km that was a dog-leg shaped wind tunnel. Right in your face to the finish.

Each lap I made sure I lead through these turns and I kept ramping it up a notch further every time. Just testing. I knew this would be the only place where I could get the kind of gap I needed that my legs weren't going to give me otherwise.

Going onto the hi-way bridge, the last time, I had a team mate up the road in a 4 man break. The group was slowly bringing it back and I wasn't sure if they could hold it to the end. They were getting awfully close...

As we got near to the end of the bridge I had another team mate on the front setting a false tempo and, knowing the line I was going to set through these corners was going to be TIGHT and FAST, I told him to hold the pace steady.

I did a false attacked about 1.5 km before the end of the bridge to see if I was being marked. Sure enough there are 4 guys from the same team on my wheel when I look back. I soft pedalled and looked at their faces for the right moment. Then I attacked for real just before the corners.. I held good speed and my tires stuck. Then I had to bridge into the nasty head wind.

Luckily the break had taken it easy through the corners as they didn't want to crash out in the last few kms. This gave me some extra speed coming out of the corners and I was able to catch them just as we passed the 1km to go point.

As they set up for the sprint I knew who's wheel to grab (the team mate). We had talked about the sprint before the race and I knew just how he was going to play it and how far out. I rolled onto his wheel just as he got up to sprint. He rolled across the line sitting up, I was a bike length behind him and there was open road behind me.

I was second.

But wait a minute! Hold the phone! I totally forgot about the age category thing! I won. Yipee!

All in all a small race but it was good to get back and get my head in a race for a while. I just wish I was feeling better.

It also gave me an indication of where my fitness is and what I need to work on now.

Bike racing is still fun.

Sunday 3 August 2008

A Sunday Ride in the Mountains

This is pretty much a typical day in the mountains. I try to get some climbing in on Saturday and Sunday.

Saturday is a fast training race with a group that features some climbing. Sunday I ride by myself and the goal is 4-6 hours with as much climbing as possible. The ride starts off at near sea level in Tainan County. This is where rice comes from, BTW.The ride has about 20km of flat as I head towards the mountains. This gives me a good warm-up. This is a typical Chinese Gate.
After the warm-up, I cross over into Chaiyi County and the climbing begins.
I'm headed to the one on the bottom. That is up and over 2 mountains and then back again.
After 20 minutes or so of a 2%-4% grade, the real climbing begins around this left hander. I can also get my first peak of what the weather might be for later in the day.This is part of a series of switchbacks that gains just over 500m in 5km. The pitches are between 10%-14% with the 'level' sections around 8%-10%. This climb is a good indicator of how I will feel the rest of the day.
Part way down the descent on the other side and I get a GOOD look at the weather ahead. Not too bad but there could be trouble. I don't mind the rain on these rides. It's 30C+ so I don't get cold on the descents. It's more about what condition the road might be in. More on that later.
I continue down the other side. The last time I road up this I was being chased by some ratty old, smoke belching, mud spewing, trucks driven by Whisbe drinking, Bin Lon chewing truck drivers on their way to lunch.This was where I got my first good look at the trucks. Yikes!More mountains. Does this ever get old? You can see several ridges in the distance. Some have roads, some don't. The roads that are there are tattered and small. I like those best.
I hint to all the Jr. Geologists as to how the mountains here were formed. In some parts of the country there are entire mountain sides with their layers exposed like this.Part way up the second (bigger) climb and you can see the road, in the distance, where I took the last picture.This is the real problem with rain in the mountains here. This was mostly cleared away last week after the typhoon. It is a small slide but it is still blocking almost a full lane. You need to be careful during descents. You can come ripping around a corner and come face to face with one of these.This is a slightly bigger slide. Apparently it blocked the road completely just around the bend. I never got to see it though, as this was a far as I could get. It is about 5km from the summit. This means I lost this 5 km, the descent, of few ridges after that the turnaround and the climb back up. I was a little pissed but this is par for the course here. The worst part was that I usually get water and a coke at the turnaround. Not today. I was pretty low at this point so I had to sip a little less until I could find suppliers. No biggie.

I'll come back next week and see what damage was really done.

This part doesn't look too bad. The road is still there so I think it is just about clearing away the debris. A bigger slide will take the road out entirely and they will have to re-build it from scratch.

So I doubled back at this point. I got home, got cleaned up and went to lunch with the wife and son, Grandma and Grandpa, the wife's big brother and his family.

Good food and good times.

Friday 1 August 2008

The Trouble with Normal is it Always Gets Worse!

I went for one of my normal rides on Tuesday. I do about 20km warm up out of town, through some flat farmland and into the foothills. I ride the same 20km back as a cool down. In between are a series of 7-10km bits of smaller roads that I can mix and match and put together a ride from 70-120km. I can mix it up based on weather and how I feel.

This for me is 'normal'.

The problem is, lately, normal is anything but. First off, I was dealing with narrow roads strewn with debris from the recent typhoon. This makes things like traction and punctures a real concern.
This isn't really much of a big deal though. I ride good tires and the real concern on this ride was more about the birds. By this I mean the Hitchcock variety.

First off, the ride I set out to do had 8 climbs in it that range from 300m to 800m in length. The grades run from 6% to over 14% (really). I never do hill repeats. I just jam my way up these babies and it is a power climbing workout extraordinaire.This one is two 14+% jams with a 10% respite stuck in the middle. It is also THE LAST of 8 of these power climbs. The photo shows the last of the 2 14% sections.

Flash back several climbs and I'm feeling a little frisky. I was in the 53/23 and just about to pop over the first climb when, out of the corner of my eye, I swear I saw sparrow swoop down at me and deposit some sparrow droppings on my back. I crested the climb and stuck my hand on my upper back and, sure enough, I came up with a smudge of sparrow crap.

Now, in Chinese culture, this is supposed to be good luck. I can't for the life of me figure out why but, as these are Chinese sparrows, I figure they must know why so this must be good luck. Feeling lucky I continued on.

I got about 10 meters down the road and I saw two more sparrows dive down at me and crap on my head.

"Damn!" I though, "I must be really lucky now."

Not wanting to go to the well too many times I nailed it and tried to put as much distance between me and the luck bestowing rodents with wings as I could. These sparrows seemed to sense my good fortune and headed of to find some other poor soul in need of a little luck. I hit a few more poppers and all was good.
I got to one of the points where I needed to make a decision about which section to do next and I made a decision to go right.

Now bear in mind that I have been riding these same roads for the last 10 years. I know them very well and the farmers who live there have seen me enough times that I am on nodding terms with several of them.

I swooped down the first tight descent and swung around a blind embankment only to find that, due to a recent earthquake and a couple of typhoons, one of my favourite sections of roads was, well... gone. It was already dodgey after the quake but it was still manageable. I hadn't ridden it in about a month but I guess one of the last typhoons had finished it off (eroded under the road causing it to collapse) and already the jungle had began to claim it back. No hope in riding through this one.
Now I realized that I had two options. I could double back through swallow alley or double back and take the left instead of the right I took. That sounded like the better idea so I headed off.

Back up and over and I dropped down into the next valley. I hit a few more poppers and all was good. I started to relax and really enjoy the ride. The typhoon had passed, the skies were clear and blue and the humidity hadn't had a chance to return yet. Just then a bunch of chickens ran across the road in front of me and I had to do a two wheel lock up to avoid hitting lunch. It seemed the farmer's chicken house had been damaged in the typhoon and now there were hundreds of chickens running around like...chickens. The worst part was that I had scarred these foul fowl so much that by the time I rifled through my jersey pocket, fished out my cell phone, and got it ready to snap a picture, every last chicken had disappeared into the shrubbery that lined the road. WTF! So I took a picture of the farmer's house.
I clicked back in and off I went. 3 more poppers to go.

I started thinking about all the weird crap that had been happening to me lately on rides. Recently I'd gotten it into my head that the Fates had set out to ruin my life. They were messing with me and causing me grief for their own perverse pleasure. Then, it seemed, they had tired of me and my petty struggles and moved on. Now I wasn't so sure. Maybe one of the twisted lesser Fates had been given a chance and was having her go at me.

I started thinking about all the weird weather we'd had this year. We had a long cold winter (unusual) a really wet spring (a bit unusual) and already 2 big typhoons early in the season.

Taiwan has these indigenous birds (the Black-Spoon Bills or something like that) that had suddenly flocked and then just flocked off, completely out of season. Even my wife had been nice to me lately. Things were just not right.

As I was turning this over in my mind, I hit the next climb and tried to jam up it in the big ring. This has always been an indication to me of when I am ready to race. If I can power my way over these babies then I am ready - I am at least at the point where I can hang. Once I start to toy with these climbs then I know I can be competitive. Right now, I am in the early hanging stages.

Anyway, as I was turning all this over in my mind, and cresting this climb,I heard this honking and hissing behind me.

This was the final sign of the apocalypse. A big goose was hissing at me and chasing me over the top of the climb. He was about a breath away from getting a good taste of my hamstring!

If you've every been around these birds then you know that this is no joke. The have a bad temper and some bulk. At this point, if this bastage got a good piece of me I was going down and there would be some serious welts to go with my road rash.

Luckily he scared me just enough that I had an adrenalin rush and I opened a few meters between us as the grade eased off. But he didn't give up. He was pissed and he kept after me for another 50m or so. Finally I hung a left and he was quickly out of sight.

Now I had 1 more short popper to go and the last 14%+ leg breaker that serves as my reality check. After that it was a few short rollers (that don't count) and the last 20km home.

The thing is I just didn't know what to make of all this. I mean really. Was I being paranoid? Was this just some strange series of events that I was connecting together because I have a blog I was in need of some detritus?
I was a few hours into this ride and had slammed back 3 large bottles already. I needed a nature break. I stopped at a familiar spot and went about emptying my bladder. As I did I had a moment to look around and, specifically to look down at the collapsed riverbank below me.

A few years ago this had been a small stream with a little shack and some crops. Now it was an actual river, the shack long since washed away, and the quickly eroding field lay fallow. I was briefly amazed at how quickly and irrevocably things changed around here.

Then it was 2 shakes and on with my ride.

So which was I? The river? The riverbank? The shack (all washed up)? Or did none of this concern me? Was I just a casual observer getting in the way? And what about those wicked sisters - the Fates? Were they really messing with me? Or was I just looking for interesting stuff to talk about at our next poker game?

I still don't know. What I do know is that I have a couple of 4-5 hour rides scheduled for the weekend. In the last few weeks I've survived rain, lightening, old age, all manner of fowl, my wife's temper and bodily injury. I'm either prepared for what's next or my luck has run out.

I'll let you all know on Monday.

Monday 28 July 2008

Rolling Thunder

Nope. This is not another weather related post.

It seems that the fates have turned their gaze away from me, as of late, and are focused on some other poor soul (God - or some other extra-dimensional, omnipresent, omnipotent being - help the sap). My foot has healed and I've managed to get some decent mileage in despite two typhoons this month. I've even managed a couple of Wednesday night training races.

Sunday, I started my ride from my wife's parents' place out in the county and headed directly into the mountains for some climbing. A slightly overcast day kept the temps down a bit and there was only a small breeze. This was shaping up to be a good one.

I spun my way up the longer beginning section of the first climb for 30 minutes or so until I hit the steeper grades that make up the last third of this climb. Once up and over I did the screaming descent down, through the low lying clouds, to the foot of the bigger climb I wanted to do. This is an out and back course for me so every km I ride out means I will have to ride it back, too.

I settled into a pretty snappy rhythm for the first section of the climb. I thought I'd do about 1 hour of this climb and then double back. I've been dropping weight and getting fitter again but I am certainly not at the point where I can turn 5 hours into 6 and not have it trash me for a few days (I also do distance on Tuesdays so, at this point, I want to be recovered by then so I can do 4 hours as well).

The roads were empty and I kept climbing. The rhythm was there so I just kept taping it out. Wattage and heart rate were all manageable as I rode into the clouds.

I rode until I was at 1 hour for this climb. It was a great day and I still felt pretty good. I convinced myself to do a few more minutes and then turn around. I was a little concerned that I'd run out of jam. I still had a long descent down but then I had one more short (590m elevation gain) but steep (pitches of 13-14%! with tons of 8-10%) climb left to do. This is the climb that always gives me the reality check. After that one there is still 30km left to ride.

As I was contemplating this I broke through the cloud layer and was now in light cloud and sun. I was at about 850m so the temps weren't too bad. I also knew that I was only 5km or so from the top. Hell, I thought, I really hate turning around before I summit (almost exactly 1000m) so I decided to finish up.

And that I did. I stopped for 5 minutes to get water and a coke and have a nature break, then I zipped up and did the 25 minutes of screaming, twisting, uber technical descending that is par for the course around here. I had to be careful in a few of the sections as there was still small sections of the mountain that had slid down during the last typhoon. The roads had been cleared (a single lane) but there was still dirt, rocks and bits of tree trunks strewn around.

I got to the bottom and hung the hard left that took me directly into the last climb. Bang! 10%. Tap, tap. I kept it going. My legs didn't feel too bad. Slam it into the apex at 13%, out of the saddle, up, up up, sit, shift and tap, tap tap. And repeat several times. Not bad. Huh.

This climb is tough because it comes after a long descent and is steep right away. After a few kms, though, the grade drops down to 4-6% and the pitches are short and only 8-10%. Manageable. Then there is a small respite, you lose a bit of elevation, and the last section is not too bad at all. It's only hard because of the 4 hours or so already in the legs.

Then I heard it. Distant at first but clearly headed my way. Trucks. BIG trucks. Big dump trucks and trucks with Earth movers. These guys were the ones fixing the mountain from the typhoon otherwise they wouldn't normally be on these tight, twisty mountain roads. They were coming up behind me. Damn. What a way to ruin a great ride.

I looked down from atop one switchback and got a good look at these lumbering beasts. My legs still felt pretty good so I decided then and there to give it a go. If I could crest before them they'd never catch me on the descent.

Click, click and out of the saddle. I got it going, sat, clicked back up one more and got on top of it. How long could I keep this going? I could hear the rumble clearly through the heavy, still air on this side of the mountain. They were only a few hundred meters behind me - maybe 1 or 2 switchbacks bellow me - and getting louder by the second.

I could tell by the engine noise that the trucks were struggling with the pitches and the twists in the road. This was to my advantage. I could also tell that the drivers had no intention of taking it easy. They were on their way to lunch and if I wasn't careful the appetizer would be me.

I was riding right at my threshold and I could hear the thunder of these trucks rolling up behind me. In these tight little sections the sound traveled straight to me and couldn't just hear it, I could feel it. 1 km to go.

I shifted and got out of the saddle to get on top of the gear. The grade eased off here but that meant it eased off for the trucks, too. They were closing on me. I put my head down and drove. I could see the summit a hundred meters ahead of me and the trucks even closer behind me.

I jumped with everything I had left. I drilled it up ,over the summit, jammed it into the big ring and swung left into the descent. I couple of switch backs later and the thunder began to recede. I was away.

I ripped down the mountain, onto the flats and road the last 30km back to safety, food and a nice, cool bath.

Monday 7 July 2008

Cursing the Fates.

I've been having a string of bad luck of late that has pretty much ended any chance of riding well anytime in '08. None of it was serious; It was mostly a bunch of minor incidents that has made it impossible to develop or maintain any decent fitness. It's as if the Fates were conspiring to keep me off the bike. So I decided to give the Fates their due and to lay down some serious base and look forward to '09.

The problem with this is that it means I am doing long rides (4-5 hours) in the middle of summer when I would have normally scaled back the time and been doing 2 1/2 hours of intensity and sprint intervals. This also jives with the pause in the racing season here that happens during the summer months. There are races in the spring and fall but very few in July and August when the heat, humidity and typhoons are at their peak.

So Sunday I went out for a planned 4 hour ride that features about 1400m of climbing. I started off feeling a little better than I had of late so I bumped the pace up during the warm-up and got on top of the gear a little more than I had recently. This was shaping up to be a good one.

About a hour into it I was riding tempo along a tree-lined road that is a slight false flat up and heads into the foothills. Up ahead I saw some dark clouds rolling in and I could tell there was some big rain in store for me later. Ok, I thought, this one might get a bit epic.

I kept riding.

The wind began to kick up and it started to get darker and darker all around me. I had started out in bright sunshine so I was wearing dark lenses. I slipped my shades off and stuck them in my helmet. A light rain began to fall.

I was actually a bit thankful for the rain. It was a lot cooler than the summer sun I started out in. The wind picked up a bit more and the rain followed suit. Now it was blowing in my face but I was feeling pretty good so I kept the tempo going and resolved to hammer through it.

As the wind drove the rain into my face it started to sting but it was ok because I was feeling better than I had in months. I just put my head down and kept turning the legs. Then I saw a lightening strike about a click or so in front of me. This is pretty odd for around here. Then, within the space of less than a minute I saw 4 more.

I kept riding.

The wind notched up once more and was now driving the rain into my face. It felt like a was riding through a swarm of bees. Then more lightening. This was getting serious. Then I realized that the Fates were having at me again. This was the first ride where I felt even part way decent and they were sending this storm to slap me down once more. Damn, this was getting personal! I started to get angry. Defiant. I would be damned if those biotches were going to take this ride away from me.

I kept riding.

The wind became deafening. It felt like every drop of rain was piercing my flesh. The lightening strikes were coming fast and furious. Even if I wanted to get off my bike I was surrounded by trees on either side of the road for a few kms in each direction. What was I to do? I put my head down, cursed the sky and I kept riding.

You know that scene in the Trueman show (or almost any other movie where some idiot is caught in a storm at sea) where Jim Carey lashes himself to the mast and shouts at the sky, "Is this all you got?!", "Is this it?", "Bring it on!"? That was me.

The wind was pressing me down until my chest was resting on the top tube. I was riding at a crawl. The rain was threatening to tear chunks of flesh from my body or, at the very least, powerwash the tattoos off of me. There were so many lightening strikes I'd completely lost count and I was cursing the sky and telling whoever to "Bring it on!".

Idiot.

Then there was this pause, or maybe it was a lull - I can never tell the difference. For a second I was able to spit the water out of my mouth and catch my breath. "HA!" I thought. "Ha," indeed.

Just behind me, slightly out of my peripheral view and to the right, there was a strike. The bang was so loud that, when I got home, I was sure that I was going to find that I'd soiled my bibs a little bit. All of the hairs on my body felt like they were standing up. The air had this smell I can't describe. It was a like that smell after a big storm, with an undertone of burnt something and then something else - something else I'd never smelled before.

I kept riding.

The wind dropped off to a manageable level and the rain became rain again. It was still a pretty decent storm but it felt as if the meanness of it was gone.

I did 2 1/2 more hours of wind, rain, sun and climbing. I felt good. I felt good for the first time in many months. I know it sounds weird (and a wee bit hippyish) but it felt as if something had passed. For the first time in months I felt hopeful, that the road was long but it lead somewhere. It was going to be ok.

I just need to keep riding.

Wednesday 18 June 2008

The Sirens Song - A Power Meter Tale of Warning

I have been around Power Meters off and on and, last year, two of my team mates had SRMs and were trying to seduce me into buying one as well. I was tempted but, in the back of my mind, I already knew I was going to quit racing at the end of the season so the investment didn't make sense.

Fast forward 6 months and I've been convinced to race again and have a new PM lashed to my bike.

I've been racing for 20+ years and after plenty of trail and error and after getting my coaching license, I have a pretty good idea of how my body responds to training; I know what I need to do to get to race weight or get race fit. I also know what doesn't work for me.

It used to be that I would block out 6 week training cycles and pretty much stick to them. I'd put in the time and the work would generate predictable results. But that damn PM lashed to my bike has ruined all that.

It started slowly. At first it was a simple enjoyment of a new toy. I'd play with the buttons as I rode and see what I could see. I used to enjoy the the terrain that I passed over as I logged the miles, but now I found I couldn't wait to finish my ride and go download it onto my computer so I could see what I had ridden. It wasn't about the road anymore, it was about the cool charts and graphs I could make. I could barely remember any of the real details of what I'd just ridden.

I few rides later and, to my horror, I discovered that I had lost my ability to speak a single sentence that wasn't riddled with acronyms. I was becoming obsessed with generating numbers that were comparable to others. I needed to see numbers that I knew I had generated in the past (through testing). I began second guessing everything I knew and everything I was seeing. I was constantly readjusting my schedule to fit with some idea of training that hadn't every worked well for me. How is it that I could forget everything I knew, disregard all the tell tale signs and ride like a big dummy?

I should have listened to the cremudgeons who howled their warnings at me from the front gates of my LBS. They warned me that this could happen. The had tried to dissaude me with tales of other riders who had suffered a similar fate but I was deaf to their pleas. I had been lured by my PMs Siren Song and now lay spent on the sofa with the debris of several wasted weeks of training scattered all around me.

In retrospect, I should have ridden as I had in the past and used my PM to collect data. After I had some fitness I could have then used the information wisely instead of foolishly getting caught up in the the technology and everyone else's ideas of how I should train.

Luckily, I have survived to tell my cautionary tale but this season is, for the most part, a write-off. Now I need to dig down and humbly begin again.

Tuesday 27 May 2008

Stick on the ice.

I got a text from a friend about heading down to the park to throw a baseball around, maybe hit a few. I thought it would be a good idea.

When we got there there were a bunch of kids having themselves a pretty good game. They weren't going anywhere. Then my buddy remembered that there was also a bunch of guys who played some ball hockey in the middle of the skating oval (roller blading) in another section of the park. We headed over for a look.

When we got there there were several guys we knew, 2 nets, full goalie equipment and an assortment of spare sticks. This is no small feat to find on an island in the tropics! How could I not pick up a stick and take a few shots on net?

15 minutes later, I'm covered in sweat and sweep checking a guy as he tries to pinch in from the wing. All good fun. It's been 10 years since I held a hockey stick in my hand and, although I was never much of a hockey player, I'm having a blast.

Game on!

I'm sure you can see this one coming. It's like a train wreck; You know it's going to happen but there's nothing you can do to stop it.

I'm on the point, one of my team mates has the ball behind the net to the left, he spots me and passes it to me and I get ready to tee it up looking for the top shelf. The defenseman gets a whisper of wood on the ball and causes it to hop over my stick. He's already facing the right direction and he sprints after the loose ball with nothing between him and our goalie but open concrete. I turn and sprint after him.

I am closing on him. I get my stick out and think I can get my shoulder in front of his and take him off the ball. There's sweating and grunting, the sound of team mates shouting and stick on stick and then I am on the ground and in pain. I have turned my ankle and it doesn't feel good. He continues away with the ball, makes a quick move across the front of the net, our goalie goes down and he flips it up high, into the net. He scores.

Damn.

The game stops for a minute. The big pain subsides and and I get up. I've turned this ankle before and it was no biggie. Just sore for a day or two. So I walk it off and play for another 20 minutes. I go home, have a beer and try to interest my wife in stories of ball hockey glory. I fail miserably.

Later that night I notice that my ankle has gone missing. I know I had one when I woke up that morning but it's nowhere to be seen now. This is not good. I ice, take some Ibuprofen and go to bed.

In the morning I have a stump where my foot used to be. Great. Perfect. Off to the doctor.

I've torn some medial ligaments in my foot. A few days of swelling and then I should find my ankle again. In 6 weeks it should be healed. I guess I won't be racing Sunday.

My training was going poorly enough. Now this:As I walked out of the doctors office after declining the obligatory pain meds (completely unnecessary in this instance) my ankle was wrapped and my were spirits low. Then I thought of what an odd post this would be.

If you don't laugh, you'll cry.

Training: Week # 7

Monday: Off.
Tuesday: Time: 2:55 - Distance: 75km - TSS:200 IF:.76 Elev: 710m Kj:0
I felt pretty tired from the weekend. Racing is one thing but the driving and the lack of sleep really take their toll.
Wednesday Training Race:Injured. As a cyclist one would think this would be a cycling injury. It's not. Damn. Just when I was feeling crappy, too.
Thursday:Injured
Friday:Injured
Saturday:Injured
Sunday: Injured

Totals:
Time: 2:5
0 hours
Distance: 75km
Elevation gain: 710m
Kj: 0
TSS:200
IF: .76
NP:

Sunday 18 May 2008

Alishan Race 18 May 2008


This was my first race back, after roughly 6 months off the bike, and it felt like it. It didn't help that it was a course completely unsuited to me. It was a short race, 72km, but it climbed up to 2600m and finished there. For the most part the grades were 4%-6% with 8%-10% pitches thrown in. What makes it tough is the fact that it never stops climbing and you get to spend some time at altitude.

For the last several years, we would drive up the night before, hotel it, get up early and have a big breakfast, get ready and go race. That was before. For this race I hooked up with the local club team I have been training with and we did it their way. I got up a 3am and drove to meet them (we used my old team car). We loaded up and headed out by 4:15. I drove the 2 hours to the race. We unpacked, got ready, had a quick warm up and staged.

Bang and we're off. There was a long neutral of 15km which didn't really feel like a neutral at all. The tempo wasn't so fast but it was certainly quick - quick enough to whittle the group down from 150+ riders to less than 50.

There was this one hairy legged foreigner, with a wicked 'hitch' in his left knee that apparently didn't get the memo about the neutral. He proceeded to jump out of the group, after about 1 km and struggle his way up to the lead police car and motorbikes that were about 150m in front of us. You could see the guy was really digging and not understanding what the guys on the motos were telling him and, all the while, his left knee is going ' whip, clickety-clickety, whip, clickety, clickety' as he ground up the grades out of the start town.

My plan was just to ride my own race and not worry about what was going on on the front. I knew I'd eventually be OTB it was all a matter of when. As we kept climbing, I saw that the pace was going to be brisk in the neutral and that people were already falling off the back. I decided to move closer to the front to get away from the struggling wheels that were getting progressively sloppier all around me.

As I moved up I could see that a few others hadn't gotten the memo either and had joined Festus up at the motos. The rest of the group seemed uninterested. Then a funny thing happened. One of the Giant ART (Taiwan based Continental team) sent one of their guys up there as well. Still, no reaction from the group.

Now, the guys I've been training with are generally a pretty good sort. I've helped most of them at one point or another and we get along pretty well. In fact, I wouldn't even have been there, or racing again for that matter, if they hadn't talked me into it. They were pretty pleased that I was there, we were using my team car, and I had helped them organize both cars, the drivers, and had come up with a plan on how to feed all 12 of us and have food, a shower and clean dry clothes at the finish. They responded by giving me a uniform and following my suggestions (it all worked out really well, actually).

Now as I looked at the Giant rider, and a band of 5 others who didn't get the memo, I knew that the neutral was about to end. Then I saw a camera bike (still photographer) from one of the magazines moving up to the group. I thought to myself that this would be the only chance I would have to help this club out during the course of the race. These media types all know me (not too many white guys racing here), and I'm sure they'd be a bit surprised that I was back racing (and in a funny jersey) so maybe there'd be a picture on their website...So, just as the flag dropped signaling the end of the neutral, I moved off the front (not really an attack as such) and the group let me go.

Since the pace wasn't so high, I got across to these guys quite easily and some of us started to work. We opened up a 30 second gap or so and then it all fell apart. I guess the Giant guy was just having a look-see in case anyone dangerous had slipped across and the rest of the guys were looking at him. 7 or 8km later the group rolled up to us and the glory was over.

Then the race started for real. The pace shot up and the group started breaking apart. I struggled to hang on. Really, I was surprised that I was still there! Fuji (my old team) put 2 guys on the front and started ramping it up. I was slightly gapped at the top of a few pitches but I fought my way back on. Then Giant moved 3 guys to the front and drilled it. I held the wheel in front of me as long as I could. A gap would open in front of me and I'd get out of the saddle to close it, once, twice, I'm not sure how many times, and then they just started rolling away from me. A few riders would come around me, I would latch onto them and it would happen again. Finally, there was no one left to come around me.

I was off.

The cars in the caravan started to come around me and I jumped in. I thought I might be able to work my way back into the group if I could just recover. Then we hit a pitch and they went around me one, two, three, four, more and gone.

2 riders came up to me, I knew them both, they nodded and I hung on. Then a few more joined and we became the second group. The roads here just snake up and down the mountain. In some places you can see quite far up the road. We could see the main group of about 30 riders winding their way across a bridge in front of us. Then they disappeared around a bend. Two of the guys stayed at the front and set tempo. I hung on for as long as I could and then I had to let them go, too.

I was alone.

This is how these kinds of race usually play out for me. If it is a good day I can hang with the second group while the climbers go do what ever it is climbers do when I'm not around. That wasn't today.

My strategy is most often to hang on as long as I can for the first third of the mountain. I then ride the second third at a conservative pace. The last third is often at altitude and, believe it or not, this favours me (I had some testing done once and I am very good at exchanging gases. subsequently, I don't suffer as much as other at altitude - although sometimes I throw up at about 2000m). Because of this, I then ride the last third much harder than the middle third and reel in those who have been dropped by the front group. This strategy has worked well for me in the past. No reason not to follow it again today.

Then the back marker passed me. You know the car that signifies the back of the race? It passed me. I was no longer officially part of the race. I would have to fend for myself. I was at the whim of traffic or whatever else might be out there. I saw a family of monkeys but they were pretty disinterested in me. This would not do.

I mustered my resolve and laid chase to the back marker. Kilometer after kilometer it was just in front of me. I could smell the cigarettes the two guys in it were smoking, but I just couldn't close the gap. Then, a bit of luck.

As he was leaning out the window, the guy in the passenger seat dropped his lit cigarette onto the road. The car stopped. IT STOPPED! He got out to retrieve his smoke and I closed the gap. I rolled past the car and I was, once again, officially part of the race.

With my new found enthusiasm, I dropped from my 23 into my 21. Then something even better happened. I saw another rider around a bend. He was hurting even more than me. I caught and passed him. Then two more riders came into view. I closed on them and then they were gone. The car that had almost crushed me was no where to be seen. It was nipping at the heals of those other poor souls now. I was free. And, tap, tap, tap, I'd found my rhythm.

The last third. Tap. Tap. Tap. I wasn't fast but it was smooth. I could sustain this unlike the haggard souls, hanging over their bars and staring at the road 5 feet in front of them that I started to reel in. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Twinge.

Damn.

Ok. My hamstrings had other plans for me. Tap. Tap. Twinge. Tap. Tap. Twinge. Twinge. Back into the 23. Tap. Tap. Tap.

And that's how it went. I finished up seriously off the pace but still officially in the race. I didn't even bother checking my placing. I'm sure the local guys will all tell me when we get together for the Wednesday night training race.

Really, it doesn't matter. I'm back in the game.

Thursday 15 May 2008

What's your job? Or The Sponsor Game!

In the last few weeks some of the local guys I train with have been talking up the formation of a new team. Since I'm the guy who has gone out and found sponsors and created teams from spit and dirt the last decade or so, they thought I might fit the bill.

Ok, that's a reasonable assumption. So what's the first step? Money. Cold hard cash.

How do you attract the ever elusive money? Success. No-one wants to throw money at the under dog. They may cheer him on but they won't back him. If you have something successful people will be lining up for a piece of the action. This has been proven to me time and time again.

So...if we want to make a new team we need money. The only way to attract money is to already be successful. Right. This is that catch 22 thing. How can you be successful without money. Really. Racing is expensive (if we are talking about an Elite team) and you need to be able to pay the bills so the riders can focus on riding and not packing groceries.

Here's the thing. I am just starting to see some fitness. I mean, for brief moments, the slightest glimmer of strength on the horizon. We have a circuit race coming up in 3 weeks. I've won this race before but that was before. I should start to see some strength by then but it won't be enough - not even close. It won't be enough to put me on the podium in the Elite (P/1/2/M) group. Even if I race Elite Masters (we race together) it would take some luck and a wee bit of divine intervention for me to be ready by then.

But...if I race my age category I am pretty sure of a top 3. If I race against other guys who have a wife, kids, job and are the same age as me I will probably finish top 3. This is good. This is what my local team mates want me to do. It would be a fresh podium shot to dangle in front of potential sponsors. It may lack context for them but it will be a guy they are talking to standing on a podium. This has it's allure.

If it were just me I'd ride Elite Master, take my chances and hope for the best. It's the race I really want to do but aren't ready for.

But those sponsors...

So what's my job? What's my role here?

I keep thinking, if I thought hard enough, if I closed my eyes and worked my way back through the years, I wonder if I could find the moment where racing became something other than just going fast.

Tuesday 13 May 2008

Training Schedule: Week# 6

Monday: Off.
Tuesday: Time: 2:50 - Distance: 82km - Elevation Gain: 787m - Ave HR: 146.
Started out tight but legs came around and I finished strong.
Wednesday Training Race: Time: 1:50 - Distance: 60km - Elevation Gain: 57m - Ave HR: 150.
Stepped up the tempo for the warm-up. I can feel a hint of strength buried in my legs somewhere but I can tell it will take a lot more work to dig it out.
Thursday:Time: 2:02 Dist:65km TSS:127 IF:.77 Elev: 283m AveHR: 126.
UHHH. Started out very dead. At about 1.5hrs, I started to feel a bit better. I don't think I can handle 3 days of intensity at this point. It's all a little frustrating
Friday: Off
Saturday:Time: 1:12 Dist:28km TSS:44 IF:.61 Elev: 103m Kj:499.
Sunday: Race: Time: 3:01 Dist:72km TSS:244 IF:.82 Elev: 2433m Kj:2683
Man, first race in months and it felt it. see race report for details.

Totals:
Time: 10:55 hours
Distance: 292km
Elevation gain: 4101m
Kj: 7247
TSS:764
IF: .76
NP:

Thursday 8 May 2008

Once more into the fray. Or, 1 lump or 2?

Recently, I was goaded into coming out of retirement, at age 44, and racing again. All well and good, I thought. The original reasons for hanging them up had been sorted and I still wanted to race.

The local guys I train with asked me to go with them to a race a week after I climbed back on the bike. Wisely, I declined. A few more weeks of riding later and they broached the subject once more. This time it was a race I had done well at the year before. How could I say no? So, I didn't.

The thing is, this is a race that basically climbs a few thousand meters and finishes there. Even though I had done well previously at this event, it certainly wasn't a course that suited me at all. Last year was just a good day. I went balls to the wall and did well. This year is sure to be different!

Here's where pride comes in. I'm a proud guy. I feel I've paid my dues and earned whatever successes I've had. Now, I am looking at a sound thrashing, by riders I would previously shell without a thought, in a mere 10 days from now. It's going to be a tough one to take. The racing community is small and my absence has been noticed. My return will be as well. It won't be all that glorious, though.

I'm trying to keep a positive outlook and just enjoy myself. What I really hope is that I can keep a low profile and miracle myself up the mountain in a time that isn't too embarrassing. The thing is, I'm pretty sure that I'll roll across the line as they awards ceremonies are winding down and in full view of my former team mates and all those I have put the hurt to over the last few years racing here.

Maybe if I do it with a smile people will think I rolled away from the "challenge group". Or... maybe not.

Damn. Time for a big helping of humble pie.

Monday 5 May 2008

Training Schedule: Week #5

Monday: Off.
Tuesday: Time: 2:15 - Distance: 60km - Elevation Gain: 434m - Ave HR: 148.
Started out ok but I could feel last week in my legs, still.
Wednesday: Training race: Time: 1:53 - Distance: 60km - NP: 240 - Ave HR: 146.
I sat in for the first half and tried to warm up. It took a while to get the legs going. I started attacking in the second half and had a few good 10+ minute efforts. A little better but still a long way to go.
Thursday:Time: 1:53 - Distance: 58km - Elevation Gain: 382m - Ave HR: 140. NP:172
I felt totally dead today. Pretty early in the program and I guess I am having trouble adapting to the training load. It'll come.
Friday:Off
Saturday:Time: 4:34 - Distance: 134km - Elevation Gain: 1510m - Ave HR: 145. NP:234
I was a little surprised how good I felt. Certainly not great but, considering how crappy I felt all week I was pretty pleased with the ride.
Sunday: Bachelor part last night. No ride...

Totals:
Time: 10.5 hours
Distance: 312km
Elevation gain: 2326m
Ave HR: 144
TSS:Pending
IF: Pending
NP:

Saturday 3 May 2008

Training Schedule: Week #4

Monday: Shanghai show: Eat. Drink. Stand around.
Tuesday: Travel Day.
Wednesday: Time: 2:00 - Distance: 60km - Elevation Gain: 300m - Ave HR: 148
Man, Could I ever feel the show!
Thursday: Time: 4:00 - Distance: 120km - Elevation Gain: 950m - Ave HR: 142
Friday:
Off
Saturday: Time: 2:45 - Distance: 75km - Elevation Gain: 510m - Ave HR: 147
Felt a little better. Had to cut it short so I could get a haircut with my son. Really.
Sunday:Time: 5:08 - Distance: 132km - Elevation Gain: 1553m - Ave HR: 146
Steady, steady, steady. I wanted to see what 5 hours with a NP of 200 felt like. Now I know. This will be a benchmark for mew to use for a while. I felt ok on the ride but it was really hard to tell as I didn't really jam at any point. The short, steep climbs weren't too bad. I think there is an glimmer of fitness on the horizon.

Totals:
Time: 13.53 hours
Distance: 387km
Elevation gain: 3190m
Ave HR: 145
TSS:Pending
IF: Pending

Tuesday 29 April 2008

Shanghai Show 2008

First off, I returned with the usual upper respiratory hack/ illness/ cough that accompanies all trips to China.

The show itself was a bit different from Vegas, Eurobike or Taipei in that it was combined with electric bikes and electric motorcycles. Although they were in another hall, it just seemed a bit...odd.

It seemed like attendance was down as was the number of foreign brands represented. This may be a bit deceiving, though. Lacking was the unwashed masses (attendees) who had no interest in bikes but where just there hawking watches or looking for a way to make a quick buck (some of the watch guys still made the trip).

The questions asked by the dealers and consumers who did attend were more knowledgeable and overall were encouraging. Consumers are still having trouble with access to all the brands they see in the magazines or online. There is limited availability, in some areas, and confusion as to the legitimate supply channels. Basically, this is still a market in development.

I was working in the Campagnolo booth. It was interesting to see the contrast between those who were familiar with, or using Campagnolo, and those who had never heard of the company. I also had the obligatory guy (I called him Bora Boy) who came to the booth 5 times a day to look at the Bora wheels and then tell me how much he knew about Campagnolo. The funny thing was, he was wrong just as many times as he was right and wasn't the least bit interested in anything I had to say in response. There's one at every show.

Conversely, I had a great chat with one guy about our favourite riders and style of racing. We liked many of the same riders and events and shared a similar disappointment with Basso. It was a conversation between a Canadian guy, working for a company owned by an American, based in Taiwan, representing and Italian company in China, talking to a Chinese guy working for a Japanese company about Italian, French, American and Belgian riders and a race happening in the US at the time. Some things transcend. Bikes just may be one of them.

It will be very interesting to see how much the market matures between now and the next show. My feeling is that it will be substantial.

Monday 21 April 2008

Training Schedule: Week #3

Monday: Off - Tired. Slept.
Tuesday: Time: 2:45 - Distance: 75km - Elevation Gain: 610m - Ave HR: 144
I definitely felt better than I did on Saturday and Sunday. I actually had a little snap on some of the climbs. I backed off for the last few km's. This time tomorrow I will be sitting on a plane to Shanghai and don't want to be tight.
Wednesday: Shanghai show: Eat. Drink. Stand around.
Thursday: Shanghai show: Eat. Drink. Stand around.
Friday:
Shanghai show: Eat. Drink. Stand around.
Saturday: Shanghai show: Eat. Drink. Stand around.
Sunday:
Shanghai show: Eat. Drink. Stand around.

Totals:
Time: 2.75 hours
Distance:75km
Elevation gain:610m
Ave HR: INCREASING!
TSS:120

Not a good week. I felt tired and had difficulty maintaining intensity.

Sunday 20 April 2008

Ergomo: The Install Pt.2

I went back to the bike and gave the spacers one more shot. This was the original configuration I had tried but, after having mastered the alternate torquing technique, I'm pretty sure I got it right this time. I torqued to spec and did a 4 hour ride. Everything seems ok, but I am going to verify that everything is still within spec tomorrow before I consider this a done deal.

I set up the speed and altitude sensors and everything seems to be working properly.

Total set-up time: 2 hours.

Saturday 19 April 2008

Ergomo: The Install Pt.1

Well, rocket surgery it ain't but there is a bit of heavy lifting.

This would be the BEFORE shot. A little dirty from riding in the rain but not too bad.

The basic tools needed. Not shown are the taping and facing tools in my shop, at work. Also grease. Oh yeah, that BB tool sitting there, it's the wrong one. I found that out a few seconds after snapping this picture when I tried to remove the Campagnolo BB. I had the Shimano tool. The other tool is the tool that comes with the Ergomo. More on that later. That'd be frame polish in the spray can. Finishline to be exact.

OK. Cleaned and all shiny, shiny. Whenever I remove my cranks, I have a good look at the BB area. I clean it and put a heavy layer of polish on it.
I skipped the tap and face as I'd just done it a month ago when I put in a new Campagnolo BB. I'm sure it's still fine (...more on that later).
I scrubbed the threads with a stiff brush. Degreased, then added an even film of FinishLine grease over the threads and the shell face. Yum.

I installed the drive side cup hand tight (lip snug to the BB face by hand). I added the same even layer of grease where the BB will seat in the cup. There's the grease.

The destruction manual is pretty clear on 1 point; The wires need to be at the 9'0clock position for the Ergomo to be most accurate. To do this, you really need to face and chase the shell. The Ergomo comes with 3 different width spacers and it is a trial and error procedure to discover which ones you need to use. I guess you could mic everything but you'd probably have to install it, at least twice, to be sure.

The good new is that the torque spec for the cups is quite broad. This allows you to cheat a little bit. All that grease I put on previously came in pretty handy here. This was also a trial and error procedure. I had to alternate between torquing each cup while trying to have the cable at exactly 9'oclock as the torque fell into range.

It all seemed like a great plan, so far.

This is the tool that came with the Ergomo. It has a tooth missing so that you don't damage the cables during installation. It was cut well, feels like good quality tool steel and fit solidly in place and felt solid during use. Which is a good thing because I had to use it quite a bit and I am far from done using it.

Here's the latest incarnation of my bike - I've gotta lose the flames. The whole Ergomo set-up is quite unobtrusive. I hate zip ties on my bike but these are minimal.


The beauty shot. I think the water is kinda sexy. I was going to take a shot of the front of my bike coming out of the pool, dripping wet, but they were cleaning the pool today so this was my second choice.

Install to date:

Chase and face is a must. It's a trial and error install. I'm 1.5 hours into it, so far.

I went for a ride to test the system afterwards. It worked fine. If I had actually read the computer set-up destructions, I would have gotten the speed sensor working properly. Other than that, and not setting up the altimeter at all, they system worked and felt smooth.

The bad part. Technically, I got the cups into the lower range of their torque spec. Over the course of my ride, however, the cups moved. This means the data I recorded may be inaccurate. To what degree, I don't now.

I worked with the spacers and have come to the conclusion that I have to both add 1 more (there are different thicknesses) and face the shell again, thereby removing the tiniest amount of material. I'm positive that this will do the trick.

Without access to cutting tools, I could not have installed the Ergomo system at home. In short, a proper shop must be involved in the process. Factor these costs into the overall cost of the Ergomo PM.

I will follow on with an update on the installation and then it is on to the computer itself. There is some pretty cool stuff there.

Friday 18 April 2008

Ergomo 1.1 - J'arrive!

Or something like that.
Well, it's here. I'm a tad disappointed because the cranks didn't show up. It's no biggie as I have some cranks that I can use.

I flipped through the destructions. All the whining I'd read about installation seems a bit much. It looks pretty straight forward and should take about a hour if I have a beer in one hand.

The case is really nice and the computer display look excellent. I like the screen choices and I'm sure I will have much more to say about that once I start using it.

It obviously comes with software. I think that will be the real make or break for the unit. I will document the installation and hopefully put to bed the idea that Ergomo is a pain to install.

Come' on folks, it ain't rocket surgery.

Tuesday 15 April 2008

Regular Training Course Profiles

MONDAY: Ride the Sofa.
TUESDAY: 75km and 610m elevation gain.
WEDNESDAY: 65km Training Race. Dead flat.

THURSDAY: 75km and 610m elevation gain.

FRIDAY: 1.5 hours Recovery. Dead flat.

SATURDAY: Group ride/training race. 4 to 6 hours.

SUNDAY: Family day OR 100-140km with focus on elevation gain.

Monday 14 April 2008

Training Schedule: Week 2

Monday: Off - Well, I nailed that one.
Tuesday: Time: 2:45 - Distance: 75km - Elevation Gain: 610m - Ave HR: 141
I felt pretty good today. I was able to carry some speed through the climbs but couldn't maintain any real intensity. I plan on using this course on Tuesdays and Thursdays but think I will need to lengthen it as I get fitter.
Wednesday: Training race - CANCELLED due to weather.
Thursday: Time: 2:35 - Distance: 65km - Elevation Gain: 400m - Ave HR: 144
Felt flat today. I wanted to go out and hammer in the rain but the gas just wasn't there. Rode tempo instead.
Friday:
1 hour easy. There is a big weather system hanging around and it is killing me.
Saturday: 2:40, 75km,
elevation gain: 900m , Ave HR: 146. First ride with the new PM. I jammed the power climbs pretty hard. I could feel it near the end.
Sunday: 3:40, 110km, Elevation gain: 1100m, Ave HR: 148. Started strong but didn't eat enough the night before. Totally ran out of jam mid-ride.

Totals:
Time: 12.5 hours
Distance:355km
Elevation gain:2910m
Ave HR: INCREASING!

Not a good week. I felt tired and had difficulty maintaining intensity.

Keeping a sponsor happy


Last year my title sponsor was Fuji Asia. I got a last minute call to do a MTB race in Korea. I thought, "What the heck." and said ok. You've gotta keep the sponsors happy!
A short flight and a long drive later we were in the mountains in the northern part of the country. It was beautiful.

I did the pro race and finished 2nd. I had a mechanical but even without it there was no way I could climb with the Japanese guy from Specialized who won.

This isn't the good part of the story.


After the race, there was the usual draw for prizes. The thing is Fuji Korea had really stepped up and there was a ton of loot. I got a Shimano LX equipped bike for my second place. The winner got a carbon frame (along with our cash). In short, there was a ton of loot.Every participant was given a number with our timing chips and they went into a bucket. Some of the riders had left or had given their chips to other people. Near me was this kid who had a few numbers and, it was pretty clear, he REALLY wanted a new bike!

They kept drawing numbers and people kept coming to the stage and hauling away bikes, frames or wheels sets. I kept watching this kid because he was pretty funny. Eventually, they ran out of stuff to give away and I could tell that this kid was crushed.

The Korean organizer had told me that they could ship the bike to me and change it for the proper size if need be. I asked him if they had kids bikes. He said yes but was puzzled. I told him I wanted to give my bike to the kid I'd been watching and could he take care of it for me. He said he would do it personally.

I dragged the bike box over to where the kid was still standing. His numbers were scattered on the ground at his feet. My interpretor told him that I wanted to give him the bike I'd won. Needless to say it took us 10 minutes to get this kid to stand still long enough to take this picture.
This picture was taken with my camera and didn't come out too well. I'm sure the ones the press guys took were much better.

Did I mention how happy my sponsor was?

They signed on for 2 more years and increased the budget. My job here was done.