Am I Really So Old?

I’m still trying to recover from the Deer Trail RR.

The race was 50 miles long, and I finished in 2:19:03.  I had an average HR of 170.  Clearly, this was the hardest extended effort I’ve experienced.  (I’ve done shorter, more brutal things, but nothing so long.)

Sunday, I did a two-hour recovery ride.  Seriously, this was an easy workout.  As my friend Bart Sheldrake said once about recovery rides, “You’ve gotta ride like you’re riding with your grandma.”

I rested Monday… and I haven’t done anything today (Tuesday), but my legs are still tired, and I’ve caught a cold.

I really want to do well at the Lookout Mountain HC this weekend.  But I’m just not recovering the way I need.  Maybe I should do a short recovery ride tonight.

Am I really so old that I can’t recover? 

This makes me laugh — and it reminds me of a quote by the Irish playwright, George Bernard Shaw (1856 – 1950). 

“Youth is wasted on the young.”
George Bernard Shaw

Also, while I was looking for the exact wording from this quote, I found another quote by Shaw… I’m not sure which is more appropriate to how I’m feeling.

“Man can climb to the highest summits, but he cannot dwell there long.”
George Bernard Shaw

Kaboom!

Kaboom!  That sound resonated across the plains in Eastern Colorado this Saturday.

That sound came from my body when it blew up in spectacular fashion at the Deer Trail Road Race.

I’m having a difficult time with the results from this race… But I’m determined to not let this get me down — too much.  So, I need to put this one behind me quickly. 

But, because this blog is supposed to document this journey, I’ll write down a few thoughts about the race.

• There were 56 starters and 35 finishers.  I finished 32 in 2:19:03.  I was around 8 minutes back from the winner, and 4 minutes back from the main pack.
   
• The race was shortened to approximately 50 miles because of dangerously high cross-winds and snow.  (Belgium spring conditions I guess.)  There’s a picture on the le-poeme blog: http://le-poeme.blogspot.com/2008/04/deer-trail-road-race-ii-race.html.

  

• I stayed with the main pack for around 35 miles.  I should have been there for the entire 50.
   
• I dropped my chain just as we turned into the wind.  When I stopped to put the chain back on the ring, the finger of my glove got stuck.  It must have been funny watching me trying to get my hand free.Once I got my glove out, It took 3 or 4 miles of brutal chasing to catch back on.  I was absolutely redlined — harder than TT effort the entire chase.  This was into 30+ mph cross winds. 

  After I was back with the pack, I worked my way to the front and actually attacked and pulled.  Please note that getting back to the pack was a very good thing. :-)

  I can’t believe I dropped a chain… it’s a problem I’m having with my front derailleur.  I think it’s bent.  I REALLY could use a new bike (sigh). 

  Anyway, I’ve raced twice and twice I’ve had to chase these guys to catch back on because of something stupid. 
   

• At one point, the pack averaged between 35 – 38 mph for about 12 miles.  (WOW! – my HR was over 180 bpm the entire time.)  This ripped the pack apart, but when we turned back into the wind, it all came back together.  Again… this is a good thing.
   
• The next time we turned into the wind, the pack started an echelon across the wind, which caused half the pack to cross the yellow line.  Me and a handful others decided not to risk getting disqualified and got blown off the back. No one was disqualified — I can’t believe there were no disqualifications; half the pack should have been pulled from the race immediately.  The officials were right there.  This is a bad thing, for a number of reasons.
   
• At about mile 40, Kaboom!  It was truly something to see — My body was done.  I actually think someone stuck a fork in me. I tried to stay strong, and I guess in hind-sight I didn’t lose too much time.  But it sucked!  I don’t know how else to put it. I know why it happened… I’ve thought about it a lot.  I’ve done two pack rides this year.  One was the Koppenburg race, the other was the ride I did last weekend up to Raymond, CO.  My legs simply don’t have the miles.  Ummm… yeah, also bad.

So — there it is.  Up next is the Lookout Mountain HC.  (I hope I can recover in time for the race.) 

Up and Back Down

This past weekend, I rode with the Louisville Velo Club.  It turned out to be the longest training ride of my life.

Years back, I completed the Hugo Road Race, which is 80+ miles… and I emphasize just completed.  Before that race, the furthest I’d ever ridden was 60 miles.  (Yes, woefully prepared is what you’d call it.)

Anyway, this weekend, I tagged along for a 78 mile ride up to Raymond, CO and back.

I titled this post ‘Up and Back Down’ for two reasons.

One, Raymond is a pretty descent climb.  It’s about 15 miles long and I think climbs to over 9,000 feet.  Two, my emotions went up and down on this ride like they never had before.

The ride started out at a moderate pace, but I COULD NOT stay with the pack.  I kept falling off the back.  I didn’t have any problem bridging back up, but the fact that I kept falling off really killed me mentally.

About 15 miles in to the ride, the pack split.  The faster riders took off and the slower riders let them go… I didn’t notice until after the split happened.  I’d guess I was 1/4 mile back from the lead group.

So, I picked up the pace, left the slow group, and pushed about 28 mph along some flat back roads and caught the faster riders.  (I felt up about my ability to hammer when I have to, but I felt down that I let it happen in the first place.)

By the time we were at the base of the climb, I was mentally shot.  I couldn’t believe how poorly I was riding.  I figured I’d just hang on for a bit of the climb and then turn around and go home.

About a mile or so up the canyon, I was yo-yo-ing of the back again.  There were about 20 of us strung out in single file – except for some pro who’d taken off and was already gone up the road.  It was a bit of an effort to move to the front, but I did, and when I got there, I didn’t look back.  I just kept riding. 

We hit a switch back and headed into some strong winds.  I dropped to about 10 mph.  I thought the whole group would come flying by me, but they didn’t.  I stood up and looked back.  The closest rider was maybe 50 meters back.

Huh… my emotions were back up.  I just kept on riding.  Eventually a Schwab cyclist bridged up to me.  I struggled to stay with him and I eventually fell of his wheel… my emotions were down. 

I suddenly became very angry.  I work really hard — too hard to have this happen.  I told myself to bridge back up to him — and if I did, I could turn around and go home — no shame. 

So, I did.  I was about to pop by the time I caught him.  I came around him and took a pull.

While I was in front, we started to talk.  I don’t remember the conversation, except that his name is Rob.  I told him that I was spent.  We decided to find a rhythm and finish the climb together. 

I did find a rhythm.  And we started flying up the final 5 miles of the climb.  We were pushing 17 – 18 mph.  No one came by us.  I rode into the town of Raymond 2nd of a group of 40+ guys who’d started the ride.

While waiting for other cyclists to finish the climb, Rob told me he tried to come around me the last couple of miles, but he couldn’t.  My emotions were definitely up.

I started descending before the rest of the group because I needed to get home.  When I hit the flats, I really started to notice the wind.  I rode home by myself — into 30 mph winds, warm southern winds that beat me down the last 20 miles.  My emotions were definitely down by the time I got home.

I finished the ride in 4 1/2 hours with an average heart-rate of 145 bpm.  I was – and am – tired.

Emotionally, I’m still spent.  Isn’t this supposed to be fun?

Lookout Mountain Training

With the Lookout Mountain Hill-Climb the first weekend in May, I thought I’d better get out and climb a hill.

With that in mind, yesterday the family and I drove to Golden, CO.  I dropped them off at the Colorado Railroad Museum and drove over to Lookout Mountain.

(Below is a picture I found of some switchbacks on the climb.)

I parked at the base of the climb and got myself ready (AKA, drank a quick Red Bull).

My plan was to climb the road twice, so I started without a warm-up because I wanted to get back to the museum and spend some time with the kids.  But no warm-up is always a bad idea.  Going immediately to lactate threshold without a warm-up isn’t pleasant — mentally or physically. 

When I climbed on the bike, I saw a couple of cyclists from the Denver Spoke team just starting the climb, so I jumped on.  The first mile was torture.  It took a long time before I found my rhythm.

After the first mile, one of the two Denver Spoke guys started to falter and a gap opened between him and the first guy.  I dropped a couple of gears, stood up and closed the gap.  I followed the next guy’s wheel for a bit, but I was starting to find my legs.  So I decided to stand again pick up the pace. 

There were lots of cyclists on the road to bring back, so I went after the next, and then the next. 

At the top, I took a drink, zipped up my jacket and started the descent.  When I got to the bottom, I saw members of the Vitamin Cottage team just starting the climb.  I turned the bike around and started chasing their group.  It only took about 500 meters to catch them… which was odd.

I sat in for a while, waiting for them to pick up the pace, but I noticed numbers on their jerseys.  I figured they’d just finished the Tokyo Joe’s Spring Criterium — I didn’t know that was in Golden.  Anyway, they were taking it really easy. 

So, I passed the pack.  There were still lots of cyclists on the road, so I started chasing them down.  When I was about half way up the climb, there was one cyclist that I couldn’t catch. 

So, I dropped a couple of gears and really started to push.  The gap was coming down, but I was starting to red line.  But, that’s what I was there for, so I kept pushing.

About the same time, I needed to blow my nose.  So, I looked back — I hating blowing snot on guys. :-)  When I did, I saw a University of Denver team member flying up on me… maybe 50 meters back.  This was a good thing… someone to follow.  So, I settled in, gained control of my breathing, and waited for him to pass me.

He came by quicker than I thought he would.  It’s fun to watch a true climber.  I stood up and caught his wheel.  He pulled me up to – and past – the guy I was chasing in no time.

We moved through some of the higher switch backs at about 13 – 14 mph.  Yikes… my HR was maxed and there were still a couple of miles to go.  This guy could climb.

I just hung on and told myself not to quit.  I was really hurting, but I started to get back into a rhythm. Thankfully I’d just done the climb, and I knew we were about to hit a steep section. 

One trick bad climbers use to stay in contact with the fast guys is to move to the front to control the pace.  So I made a move on the inside of a switch back to move in front.  To my surprise, I got around him.  I sat down and started to hammer the section.  About half way up the steep bit, I heard a “click, click” behind me. 

WOW, this guy WENT — I don’t think he liked being passed by me — and he had a gap of about 10 meters before I could react.  (GAME ON.)

I faltered for a moment, but then stood and attacked.  By the end of the steep section, I had brought him back to about 5 meters back — I thought I was going to vomit.  He looked back.  He seemed surprised I was still there.  At that point, I just hoped to stay close to the top, which I did.

About 500 meters from where the race will end, the road flattens out and then there’s a very slight rise to the finish.

Just before the road flattened out, this guy slowed up and moved out to the middle of the road, so I could go by on the inside.  I switched to the big ring and dropped a few gears and started to sprint.  I reached close to 30 mph.  I really hoped I’d dropped this guy.

Then, another “click, click.”

This guy BLEW by me again right where the road rises to the finish.  Man, he used me up on that flat section.  There must be a sign written on my back that says “use me up.”  (I spend my cycling life pulling people on the flats for their benefit. :-))

At the top of the climb, he turned right around and headed back down.  I wasn’t finished until I reached the “Buffalo Bill Museum and Grave“ visitor’s center.  (It’s very cool if you have a chance to check it out.)

We grinned and waved as we passed each other — I know when I’m outmatched.  I was happy to have at least held my own.  All that said, I’ll see how well I’m climbing in a few weeks.

So, I took another drink, zipped up my jacket, and hit the descent again.  Back at the base of the climb, I jumped in the car and drove to the museum for a great afternoon with the kids.

Live Forwards

This morning I gave the Carmichael Time-Trial DVD another go.  (It’s a good workout… nice and hard.)

I did my standard 30-minute ‘ladder’ warm up.  Then I turned on the DVD.  I completed the 10-minute warm up with its two 1-minute maximum efforts.  Then I went through each of the 5-minute time-trial efforts. 

My heart rate on each effort was 180 BPM.  I felt OK, but not great.

Then came the 12-minute steady-state interval.  And holy cow… I had nothing left.  My legs and heart were done. 

I struggled to bring my heart rate up into the mid 170 range.   And my legs burned through the entire interval.

In hind-sight, I should have stopped the workout, but I’m too stubborn. 

It may have been a mistake.  I knew I was still a bit tired from the race on Sunday… and Tuesday’s 2-hour ride.  I hope I recover by this weekend.  

In any case, I’m not going to worry about it.

Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards.
Soren Kierkegaard (1813 – 1855)

Did I Race?

This morning, I checked the Koppenburg results on the American Cycling Association website. 

According to the results, I didn’t race or at least I didn’t finish.  It’s funny. I really thought I raced – and I even remember crossing the finish line – huh. 

I guess it doesn’t matter.  But it would be nice to see where I finished. 

I’ll check the results again over the next few days to see if they’re updated.

Not What I Hoped – Better than Expected

I raced Koppenburg today.

I didn’t finish how I hoped, but better than I expected. I’m trying not to be disappointed — I’m trying to focus on the positives.

I don’t know where I placed, but I do know that I finished in about 1:24. I was hoping to finish around that time.

Here’s a quick recap.

I showed up at the course around 9:30 to register, pin my number on my jersey and get in a good warm up.

It was COLD standing in the registration line. It was somewhere in the 30’s with a bitter wind coming out of the west. I was hoping I’d brought the right gear. (I did… I dressed just about right.)

I registered for the 35+ group, but toyed with racing the category 3 group ’cause they’re typically not as fast. (We’ll see if that’s true once the results are posted.)

Once registered, I setup the bike on the trainer, threw on a couple extra layers and started spinning.

I did my typical ‘ladder’ warm up. This consists of increasing difficult efforts. I raise my heart rate to 120+ and bring it back down to 110. Then I raise my heart rate to 130+ and then back down to 110. I do this until I get to 170+.

Usually I can tell how I’m going to do from the warm up. Today was a little questionable. My heart rate didn’t respond how I wanted. But I’ve seen my heart rate not respond at all in warm up, and still race really well.

(Here’s the most boring video you’ve ever seen. It’s me warming up in the cold. :-))

So, I finished my warm up and headed to the start/finish line. It was a bit warmer, and I felt fairly positive. I just kept telling myself to relax.

The official started the race, and WOW – the pack was gone. I’m shocked at how fast the start was. I was already off the back… un-feakin’-believable.

I just told myself to relax, that the pace would ease up once the pack hit the dirt road and I’d catch back on. The pace didn’t ease up.

So, again I told myself to relax, the pace would ease up when the pack hit the climb. The pace didn’t ease up. If anything, the pace picked up on the climb.

OK… at that point I told myself it was time to stop relaxing. I went into time-trial mode for the next two miles and caught the pack. It’s good that I caught the pack, but the amount of energy I wasted was insane… we’re talking about pro-1-2 riders here. It wasn’t easy.

Anyway, I’m glad I caught on before the descent back to the start… I hit over 40 mph and no one slowed down making the turn. YIKES! I’m glad I didn’t “mess” myself.

But I was finally in a good position. I was with the pack, and I went back to relaxing. We hit the dirt section again, and I felt good. As we approached the climb, I found myself in the back half of the pack — perfect.

Perfect that is until someone fell over on the climb. The entire back half of the pack came to a stop. (You should have heard some of the obscenities uttered. (Even I was appalled.) Anyway, I got off the bike and ran the climb. At that point, the race was over — the fast guys were gone.

I spent the rest of the race with a small pack of guys hammering the final 4 1/2 laps. I was definitely the strongest in the group, but I kept getting gapped in the corners. If my friend Andrew reads this, I know he’ll giggle – he knows what I’m talking about. Maybe someday, I’ll learn to handle a bike.

Finally, it’s the last lap. Our small pack was bigger now as we kept picking up stragglers from the lead pack. We hit the climb one last time, and I was in the wrong freakin’ gear. Uhhhgggg… I had to really grind that hill and I lost a lot of ground. This is a stupid mistake, but I haven’t raced in about four years, so I’ll cut myself some slack here.

I went back into time-trial mode and I just about caught the group again. I did catch some of them, but the pack took the descent to the finish at about 45 mph. I had to hit the brakes before the corner. I was too tired to trust my pathetic bike handling skills. (I have to work tomorrow — without broken bones.)

So, what did I learn? I wanted a measuring stick, and boy did I get one. I’m in pretty good shape. I completed this race faster than I did four years ago. That’s very good. I was extremely strong on the hills and flats. Out of the saddle, I was very, very happy. I just haven’t done enough extended hard work. So, I’ll put some focus on that.

Anyway, I’ll update this post when I know how I finished.

Game On!

I checked the American Cycling Association website last night.   The Koppenburg Circuit Race is rescheduled for this Sunday (April 6th).  So, GAME ON!

WARNING: I’m about to get off on a tangent.

I love saying “Game On!”  And I love it for a very stupid reason.  Wayne’s World is one of my all-time favorite movies.  (Mike Meyers is a master of comedy.)  

In the movie, there’s a scene where Wayne and Garth are playing street hockey and discussing Benjamin - the producer who’s putting their show on network television.  As they’re talking a car comes by. 

As the car approaches, Wayne yells out, “Car!”  and after the car passes he yells, “Game On!”  I know it doesn’t sound funny, but it’s freakin’ comedy genius. 

So, check it out….

Anyway… back to the race.  I was hoping the race would be rescheduled for this weekend.  I’m really itching to get out there and give it a go.  I want to stop wondering about my fitness and measure it against some of the best.

That said, it’s time to go play.  GAME ON!

Power Outage….

My alarm clock buzzed at 5:15 AM.  I was looking forward to my workout this morning… really looking forward to it.

My daughter gave me a training DVD for my birthday.  I planned on giving it a go this morning.  (It’s a time-trial DVD by Chris Carmichael.)

Training for time trials focuses on building and maintaining power.  It’s all about pushing yourself past your limit.  You try to find out how hard and long you can go before your lose your lunch… at times it’s about how hard and long you can go after you lose your lunch.

It was dark outside and 26 degrees.  I flipped on the lights and the heater in the garage and turned on the morning news. 

I completed a 30-minute warm up and then started the DVD.  The workout opened with a 10-minute warm up with two one-minute maximum efforts.  It then moved into three five-minute efforts above time-trial effort (this just hurts). 

My maximum heart rate is 185 beats per minute.  And my lactate threshold is about 175 beats per minute.  I did the three efforts at 180, 181, and 183 beats per minute.

The workout finishes with a 12-minute steady-state interval.  This is done right below lactate threshold. 

I was about 8 minutes into the interval and maintining about 175 beats per minute, when I really felt my body kick in.  I was finding a rhythm and feeling strong.

then…. uhhhhgggg….

the electrical circuit blew and the lights and DVD were gone.  I was in the dark, unable to breath — unable to finish the workout. 

I crawled off the bike and stumbled to the circuit breaker in the backyard.  Steam was rising from my arm as flipped the breaker, but nothing happened. 

We have an electrician coming to our house today. :-(

I guess my wife’s floral refrigerator, the lights, the heater, the TV and the DVD player were too much for our electrical system. 

My workout was stopped by an electrical power outage… at least it wasn’t a leg or lung power outage. 

Focus

Focus… here’s what I need to focus on.  This picture is from Wikipedia.  It’s a look down the last few hairpins before the 14,130′ summit of Mount Evans.

Focus….