Mixed Up

Loosen up your toe straps a bit; this might be a long one. Before we begin, take a look at your keyboard. Is it all gross and dirty? Then clean it. I just cleaned mine (both of them, both hooked up to KVM's, don't ask). The thing was gross. Really gross. At work, I tend to keep my keyboard clean. Maybe that's because when I get bored and the cafeteria is closed and GeWilli hasn't posted anything new for a few hours, I'll resort to cleaning up my keyboard and cube to pass some time. At home though, I guess it's another story. When I get bored here, I tend to head out to the kitchen and forage around for some more crumb-making materials to get in the keyboard. The crumbs form a matrix with dust, crud, and what appears to be cat hair, even though there hasn't been a cat in here for months. A business card, some upside-down banging, a damp cloth, and maybe some canned air will at least get you and your keyboard to the non-sickening stage. Just do it. Except Feltslave. From what I can tell, Matt's the only mofo crazy enough to read this crap on a Blackberry, and since he either smashes it or loses it every month or so, the keyboard never has time to get dirty. Which brings us nicely to primary topic number one for this post.

Feltslave is also the only person I know who is crazy enough to not only train for more than one sport at a time, but also to travel the world beating the business drum, raise a family of three kids with his wife, build a house for them, coach other people's punk-assed highschoolers in yet a third sport, help run a bike club of ingrates, and write a damn blog when he's got nothing else to do. For our conversation here, we'll focus on training for running and bike racing, because he's just nuts and I cannot even begin to consider how you'd perform his juggling act. Good luck dude...

Despite the mountains of information available about either of these online, I've not found anything about putting the two together. Sure, there's advice for multisport athletes -- that's not the same thing. They're trying to compete in one race that happens to combine more than one athletic discipline. There is a big difference between how you train for that and how you train if you want to be competitive in both running races and bike races. Then there's all the varieties of events within each of these two sports to consider. What's a Solobreak to do?

I know what I'm not going to do: hire someone to try and figure it out for me. Feltslave likes to talk about "coachability." Maybe I'm uncoachable. I've had several informal mentors in cycling, with things invariably getting ugly at some point with all of them. Not real ugly, just someone here is uncoachable ugly. That doesn't mean I didn't respect the advice and learn from it, just that I'm not afraid to question it when it's being applied to me. After all, I'm unique... So are you. Unique. Can you say that? Sure you can. I think that gets to the heart of mixing up running and bike training. Everyone who attempts this is in a unique position with regard to not only their goals, but also their strengths, weaknesses, and most importantly, athletic training history, both recent and distant. I think such a program has to be tailored.

With all this I have a bit of a problem. I really don't know shit about running. Some would say I don't know shit about bike racing either. And yes, you can do something for twenty plus years and still do it wrong the whole time. That's why we have these competitions, to see who is doing it right and who is doing it wrong. But results are all relative. You can be the best rider in races that are full of chumps, and all that makes you is the best chump. However, among my regional chumps, I know what works for me, at least it works well enough for me to outchump the other chumps once in a while. That's enough to convince me that I know what I'm doing, and if it's good enough for me, then it's good enough. Running though, wtf? I got some advice the past few years, and of course, even though I've done running races off and on since 1990 or so, these past few winters were the first time I ran consistently. And I've improved. Now what? I want to keep getting better. I don't want to hurt my performance on the bike either. Actually, I want that to improve too. A lot.

My approach is to just try to be a better athlete overall. You can be a half-decent bike racer without being a good athlete. I know, I've done it. I've never been all that lean, strong, or flexible. Maybe my late forties isn't the ideal time to take care of this, but it's all I've got now. Those things can't hurt. I'm happy to report that for sure I'm more flexible than I've ever been. It's pretty cool. As for the leanness, that seems to be working out well too. I'm into the seventh week of food logging. That's been a learning experience, but I weigh less now than at any point before in the second half of my life. That's way cool. Even my tights aren't tight. The strong part, that has me worried a bit. I can do more pushups and stuff like that than ever before too, but hell, I'm lighter. It's less work.

So far I just seem to be getting faster running without really doing anything special except losing weight and staying flexible. Some of this must be related to just running more consistently, though still way less than regular runners do. I'm recovering from my long and hard runs much, much more quickly than ever before. This has been allowing me to increase the quality of my runs. I want more though. So that's how I got to this post, learning about running through research, but finding that for someone who does high-quality bike training too, the running plans out there are not even close to optimal. I'm trying to optimize... It might help if I better defined my goals... I don't like doing that. I know what they are, but they're my goals, and some things I want to keep to myself.

Now this is a fork in the blog. Not a "stick a fork in it, it's done" fork, a fork in the road fork. Congrats for making it this far. The left fork (not sure why it's the left, it just is) goes down the road to apologizing if this blog sounds a bit too Gewilliesque or something. Choose carefully the blogs you read, especially the ones you read before you write yours. We need a "flu shot," not for influenza, but for blog influence. It's unavoidable, at least for me. If you find your blog reading like some puke's MySpace page, then it may as well be one. Keep it in your voice; in your own write (I'd have waited for December 8 to use that, but I know I'd forget). Keep it real, really you.

Back to the right fork. That's mixing running and riding. Dedicated readers know that Saturday I bagged out on racing at Sterling due to ass pimples, expenses, and last but not least, frigid temps in the early am. There was even more to it than that. I re-evaluated how Sterling didn't fit into my training plans. Having done a hard 5 mile race on Thursday (and doing amazingly well, I might brag), originally I'd thought two days off running would be best, meaning race cross on Saturday and doing a long run on Sunday. However, then there was that much quicker recovery from running I mentioned above. I started to think running on Saturday instead of Sunday would be preferable. This would setup next week a bit better. I'm planning to add some intensity (some might call it speedwork) into my runs. The next two weekends are my last two running races of 2007, and they'll be the first two that I treat as "A" races, meaning I'll push off any bike racing and try to be at my best for them. By shifting my long run to Saturday, I'm now able to take two days before doing speedwork on Tuesday, yet still take a day off before running again on Thursday, and have yet another day off from running before the race next Saturday. Perfect!

Except... Today, Sunday, was the Palmer Cross race and Bike Swap. The Bike Swap is a big deal in the land of Team BOB. Bigger than any race for some of them. I learned the mates were not only getting a dealer's table, but also planning a tailgate BBQ in the parking lot. There was even talk of some cross racing. The pull was too strong. Early Sunday I gathered up some crap I wanted to convert to cash, packed it up with the cross bike and headed west. A bit late though. I got there at 9. The boys were already in the swap meet, at least most of them were. And the master's race was at 10. And my back tire was flat. And it was cold. I went in to registration, and since a second race was only $10, got a number for not only the 45+ but also the 3/4 open which followed it at 11 am. Since I wasn't going to have time to warm up or even preview the course, I'd just ride the masters easy and then see if I could race the 3/4. Or something like that.

All went according to plan. John carted my schwag into the market while I fixed my flat and got dressed, even in time to see part of the course. Oh yeah. Roots. Lots of roots. Deja vu. This course has been in use for years. In fact, lots of cross courses used to be just like this. If you're wondering what cross was like in New England 15-20 years ago, well, Palmer. Time has stood still, practically. The bikes are lighter and the kits more colorful now, but just about everything else is the same. I rushed back to the car to get my fattest 38c front clincher, and aired it up to over 40 psi, then rushed back to the line. I still hadn't seen the first half of the course yet, at least not in the past ten years...

They decide to start the 45+ separately from the 35+, a whopping three minutes back. Good for the front runners (whose idea it was), but not for me. I'm thinking the 35+ leaders will be lapping me in no time. We go off. There's a nice field of 25 riders in the 45+ group, and as usual I'm tailgunning. I remember the first section, over some roots and out into a field. Not bad. Back in the woods, up two short dirt rises, then bam, wall of dirt. Scramble up, about ten steps, back on the bike in more rooty single track. Along the river in a big jeep rut, path turns into a field, another rideable dirt rise, but it's pick a number clusterphuck time, so I dismount. Back on the bike for about fifty feet, course turns right down a rutted embankment, then U-turns into yet another runup, maybe fifteen steps this time. From here the trail opens up a little, and I follow some Cyclonauts locals who know the lines where you can avoid some, but not all, of the roots. Out into the football field, triple hurdle. I like triples. I like the UCI rule about one set of hurdles, but saying it needs to be just a double is dumb. If we're going to get off the bike, let us run for a few meters. Triples, quads, whatever. Back into more single track. WTF? Another hurdle, a real shitty one (lot's of old school style points for this though). Then a pallet bridge? A really shitty one too. Back on the bike for another thirty meters of single track, and now we have the mother run up. Probably over twenty meters. And steep.

OK, let's count -- three big runups, plus the hurdles, then the pallet bridge with hurdles. That's five dismounts in an under seven minute lap. Yes, back in the day, this was typical. And yes, this is one reason I much prefer the new school (pun intended) kinder, gentler, faster, more pedally soccer field cross we usually see today. More importantly, my 14.5 mile run on Saturday is not looking like the best prep for this double-cross Sunday. I hope my calves survive...

At least I'm moving up. I can't really tell how far, but I'm passing people. After three laps, the 35+ leader, and then second place, lap me. I'm not sure after that. One other guy passed me, but I think he was a 45+ who'd had a mechanical. At any rate, the lap cards go from four to two all in one lap for me, and we are done after six laps. The 45+ leaders did not lap me. I was tired but not totally wasted. Not exactly fresh either. As I roll out of the finish area, I spy a free-thinking anarchist in a pink jacket warming up on a trainer. That's right, I finally meet the one and only Colin R, and we shake hands. Not much of a meeting. The 3/4 race was just minutes away, and I dared not upset the homicidal ambience around that trainer with my carefree Team BOB masters mojo. Instead, I slinked back to the Geo and took in some Gatorade, then found old Easton hombie Brian McG to take off my 45+ number, revealing the 3/4 number I'd so cleverly pinned underneath. Then back to the line for round two. I looked for Colin in the front row, but without his pinkie I guess I couldn't recognize him. Did I mention that I can't see shit anyway. Makes for a thrill a minute on these rooty mountain bike courses.

We get the roll off and away we go. Again I'm last, and everyone else has fresh legs. From my vantage point, I see lots of shitty lines being taken. At least I already have some course knowledge. Not sure how many starters, but I pass people consistently the entire race. Out on the course, I hear a familiar voice. Dick Ring, the voice of New England bike racing, is here for the swap meet and he's cheering for me. If you don't know Dick, then you don't know dick. Mr Ring was the New England announcer since before my time, right up until two years ago or so. Before that he was a nationally ranked bike racer and Olympic speed skater. He's at least 70 years old, but on the bike he can still drop at least half the scrubs who read this blog. Dick is pure class, but for some reason he has a soft spot for Team BOB. Not only did he cheer for me, he hung out and broke bread with us at the post race parking lot BBQ. Something to remember.

The race goes ok, but no lap cards at first. Then five to go! WTF? We must have done at least eight laps. I focused on being smooth, as there were lots of places this course could bite you. In fact, I missed the rutted embankment turn like three times before I started remembering it was there. No crashes though, just near misses. Surprisingly, my running legs held up, although I was totally gassed by the end and barely moving on the long run up. Didn't get lapped though, but the results had me 17th, second to last rider scored, with the lappers left off. 45+ results only had the top 5. It's not about the results though; it's the process. "It" is the noun of the night too, apparently. Sorry. If you made it this far, well, I sort of feel bad for you anyway, but I'm very grateful that you took the time out of your busy day to read my words. OK, so tighten your toe straps back up, give me something to read, in your voice, your style, your personality. Sorry about all the mistakes, you don't really think I'm going to proof this, do you? Thanks for reading. I mean, thanks a lot!