I was more than a little disappointed this morning when a potential car-full of would-be CX racers sublimated into the ether, leaving me to either face an hour of solo driving to go race a silly bike in freezing weather or do something else, like go back to bed. I chose the latter. It was not long, however, before the riding bug got all up in my gym shorts and an acceptable alternative plan was hatched, involving the reassembly of Jack Hammer (the rigid 1x9 650b MTB) and a couple of hours of singletrack riding with Seth (who, unlike Jack, is a real person). This brings me to my point:
There are lots of reasons to like the holidays (some of those reasons have frosting, others have gravy), but more than the holidays, there's something sublimely satisfying and utterly breathtaking about experiencing the outdoors on the threshold of a long, hard winter. The cold rarefies the air and desaturates all the world's colors, leaving the senses to the crispness of the frozen path underfoot and the peaceful silence of a forest curled up to sleep--by contrast you feel that much more alive. When you're lucky you'll ride like it too. If there was anything that could have quashed my disappointment over a race-day aborted, it was a morning tour of a chilling lake by way of a ribbon of dirt.
Tomorrow anyone?
Edit: Almost forgot Seth's quote of the day...
Seth: [after his third mechanical of the ride] "Ok, I think I've finally got everything working."
Wrench: "You'd better knock on wood while you have the chance."
Glancing at this morning's weather report, there was definitely no expectation of "good" weather for today's skinny tire contest in Warwick, RI but that being said one rarely, if ever, shows up at a venue after a half a day of continuous rain and says, "gee, I thought it would be a lot worse." It indeed could have been worse, but it was bad enough. To speak to Chris's comment, yes you did leave some trail but you totally didn't clean up after yourselves. There was mud all over the place :).
Having not done anything that counts as strenuous physical exercise in about three months, all of the goop actually wasn't half bad. After cleverly disguising the fact that I ride mountain bikes in the snow on stuff that makes a CX course look like a freshly paved sidewalk, I managed to pass a whole lot of people from my start spot waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay at the back, and finished somewhere mid-pack in the 3's. One would think that people who embrace a whole sport centered around riding sketchy bikes in crap-ass weather could handle them a little better, but it seems they can't and I'm by no means complaining. I would have been dead last if I didn't take 20 or so people in the corners. (because OMG am I slow. it seems that "training" actually does make you faster. Who knew?) It's worth making a big deal out of this bike-handling thing because I'm really not that coordinated a guy. (find some video of me in the barriers and you'll see what I mean) Meanwhile there are real athletes in the race--you know, the people who are naturally good at just about any sport the first time they try it--picking their way through turns with one foot unclipped and their lower lips in a dental death grip. So much potential unrealized. So much potential... And more often than not, it's just people being lemmings.
Here's a quick example. It reads something like "good line... bad line."
The high line in the video was the one that most of the 4's were taking earlier in the day (to clarify, people were staying high farther around than in the video when it was less slick. This is an extreme example of why staying high was a pretty solid fail). Given that it hadn't rained much at that point it might have been the best approach and was well worn in by the time may race came around hours later when, after being pissed on for a few hours and mashed around a good bit, it was a slippery off-camber ball of terribleness. Despite this, most of the field insisted on riding the high-line for all 5 laps, while the few who explored other options blew by like everyone else was standing still. Just because everyone else is doing it, doesn't mean it's right! ...and on that note, I'm out.
Those of you who have been following for a while may remember the "Training for the Detail Deficient" (TDD) series of last season which, in keeping with the theme, was never really planned in any sort of serious way and not really ever finished (I contend that it shall be revived in the event I ever regain the fitness high-ground enough to justify talking about how to go fast again).
In celebration of this debacle of declarative memories, and the fact that I pretty much sit on my ass doing problem sets these days (I'm soo too old for this), I bring to you a new, considerably more ridiculous training series with the initials TTD. You may de-acronym as you like, but I'm particularly fond of "Training for the Training Deficient", or in the spirit of this episode's title, "Training for the Time Deficient". TTD is all about feeling fast, spinning tires and ultimately getting nowhere fitness-wise, all on a strict time budget. TTD works its way alternately around beer-drinking and professional life so that you can be who you want to be when you grow up--as long as you don't want to be on any sort of three-tiered podiums.
So without Further adeiu - Part I: "Be late for EVERYTHING"
(apologies if this makes no sense, I was up all night doing work and may be delerious)
TTD is all about working with your schedule. If you've gotta work, kick-it with your bros at the local watering hole, spend half-a-day shopping online for parts to make your bike lighter, TTD works with you (and your schedule is tight, like {censored! My mom reads this for Pete's sake}). TTD is so flexible that it actually creates time where there was none before! How? By always being late.
The hardest part about not training is that exerting yourself is difficult. Everybody knows how awful it feels two weeks after you stop training for real when your high-end goes to shit, but four MONTHS after you stop training, even a couple flights of stairs are enough to initiate cardiac arrest. As time goes on you find yourself wanting to "just chill" on the bike more and more often, until you're barely breaking double digits on the speedo-- and actually getting less exercise than walking.
Good thing you have somewhere to be--10 minutes ago! Similarly to how smokers are supposed to tell as many as people as possible that they're gonna quit so they're motivated not to fail and look like chumps, telling people you're going to be somewhere on a schedule that you could never reasonably keep is a perfect motivator to ride fast ALL THE TIME. The whole ride slow to go fast thing is totally overrated anyway. Not only will you be riding hard every time you get on a bike, but you also will be creating time that you never would have had if you left your house at a reasonable hour and made your way responsibly to your destination--those five minutes could be the difference between obscurity and the nobel prize!
The perfect late departure is as much science as it is art. To truly make time where there was none before, you must leave your start point later and arrive at your destination at the same time you would have normally. Having been away from racing for long enough to have the oxygen return to my brain, here's a handy magic time claculator:
T = (D / v1) - (D / v2)
where T is the time you can delay your departure and, D is the distance you need to go, v1 is your normal speed, and v2 is Mach III (subtract one Mach for every month you've been off your regular schedule). Additional time may be required for sweat mopping and regaining consciousness, depending on level of fitness, but you'll have to calculate that in on your own.
This year, I dare not take a the pie for granted. Some consideration to be taken for the fact that grad student income is less-than-generous and pie is generally free, I'm a lot more appreciative of our country's little Puritan gorge-fest this year--mainly because it's two extra days off. The whole "grad school is great because you get to get paid to work on whatever you want" pitch has been a big fat lie so far. There's more than a couple of things in the queue that need getting to (like all the research I was supposed to be doing but haven't gotten around to until, uh, tomorrow), and there's nothing like extra days with no class and no problem sets to get them done...
Let's face it, all I want to do is go out and ride.
In that vein, here's a few things I'm thankful for this year:
Tall socks. No, they're not cool, but they keep you from having to roll your pants up and down all the time.
Reasonable November weather. I seriously thought this was a record warm year, but apparently it's not that unusual. My perspective is probably skewed by the fact we have yet to turn on the heat in my house, w brings me to:
Wool. Freakin'. Blankets. When you don't heat your house, a nice Afghan patu goes a long way
A crew of friends that want to ride on turkey day. See y'all in the morning!
"Everything I buy her needs to be 'special' and there's always something wrong that she needs me to fix." ~Seth
There it is -- being into cycling is like having a high maintenance girlfriend. You spend all your money and time on her; you stop hanging out with anyone that doesn't like her; and despite her destructive influence on your life, breaking up with her sends you spiraling into a depression that makes you fat and melancholy. As you may have noticed, cycling and I have been forced to "have a little space" from each other lately. Following the metaphor, I've grown a little more normal in the waist (about 13lbs) and generally have been abusing my body to the tune of all-nighters and habitual coffee swilling for a couple of months, but like any breakup you get over it eventually and move on. Hence, I think it's time to start dating again: This weekend featured two rides for FUN , and there are definitely more on the horizon. With Captain Big-Wheel (pictured above) as wingman, it's time to go pimp some bitchin' singletrack again...
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