Wall of Death

OK, it's Monday, and that means traffic, and you know I don't like to disappoint you, so even though I'm pretty much empty handed, I'll make a token effort. This picture is for G-Ride and of course the Cronoman. Semper Fi.

For the rest of you, and I'm not sure whether or not I ever published this before, but if I did, call it a rerun.

Foot update - seems OK. Rode outdoors three days in a row and it bothered me a bit on the third day, but not bad. Thanks for reading.

You decide

Is this the direction you want cyclocross headed?


At least he has gears...


This I can live with. Whoops are a blast.
Photos by DavidA"

Thanks for reading.

Breath of fresh air

Anyone have one of these? The price seems reasonable enough, although 470 watts running all night every night would impact the electric bill a bit. I've been hearing more and more stories about how these are standard equipment for today's successful masters racers, just like carbon wheels. Anyone? Thanks for reading.

Striking a nerve

Ok, not exactly, but it was a nice segue from "grinding my gears." No stress fracture was detected on my MRI. That's good news. So then, why does my foot hurt? The diagnosis was nerve inflammation. The doctor could palpitate (fancy Daria science word for poking with his finger) the nerve that travels along between the first and second metatarsals (fancy Daria science word for foot bones) and detect some fluid pooling over the tender spot. Now what? He said nerves are slow to heal, and suggested a cortisone shot would reduce the inflammation and speed the process. I've never had one before, but I'd heard horror stories, so I suggested that I was willing to wait it out a bit before going that route. The running race season only goes two more weeks, so I wouldn't be doing those anyway. He agreed, and gave me a script for an oral anti-inflammatory, told me not to run or jump, to keep pressure off of it, and continue with an aggressive course of icing. And that's what I plan to do. Any cortisone experiences you want to share would be super. I've read up and it sounds pretty standard for this particular situation, and the bad rep they have can be traced to earlier times when dosing was higher and administration less focused. But if I can recover without it I'd like to try first.

Moving on to causes and prevention, I'm not sure if this could have been the result of one long run with my shoes tied too tight or not. My feet have been a chronic source of athletic anguish, and I've had several "minor" (non-fracture) impact injuries to them in the past as well. I'm probably going to have to start paying more attention to foot pain and numb feet, and migrate to cycling shoes with a more padded tongue (huh-huh). I already have custom footbeds, but the Rocket7s have very minimal padding all around, instead employing a snug custom fit aimed at light weight. They have three full seasons on them anyway, so I might have to look at having a new upper built to accommodate my new issues. I'll also be talking with the podiatrist about orthotics for running too.

That's the boring straight scoop. Thanks for reading.

What really grinds my gears

As expected, x-ray images of my foot were inconclusive as to the presence of a stress fracture. Tomorrow I'll get an MRI and we'll work with that later in the week. Not that you need to care. I can still ride a bike if I want to, but as bad as this blog gets sometimes, I'm not going to write about my trainer ride in gory detail, or worse yet the makeup of my "trainer mix" whatever that is. Instead, since it's been a while, I throw out a flame-bait op-ed piece.



What's wrong with this picture? And I'm really not picking on promoters here. This example of a cyclocross race meeting separates the "racers" into nine categories. The problem is that while eight of these categories appear to be based on standard criteria such as the age, ability, and gender of the athletes, one of them is based purely on the design of the bicycle. Who thinks this is a good precedent? Not me.

Quite a variety of bicycles exist in just about any bicycle race, especially cyclocross. We have nice bikes, junky bikes, light bikes, not so light bikes, bikes with one chainring, bikes with two chainrings, bikes with three chainrings, bikes with 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, and even 11 cogs on the rear cluster, bikes with suspension forks, different tires, different wheels, frame differences both subtle and not so subtle. There's no getting around equipment choice being a factor, but the competitions are primarily among athletes, and I hope that most of us would like it to stay that way. Otherwise we're dancing dangerously close to ... motorsports. Yuk. So why start forgetting about the athletes and classifying races based on equipment? I happen to think single speeds are cool. They look cool, especially with disc brakes. I like simplicity too. That's one reason I like track bikes (which all have only one gear, and always have, so leave them out of this debate). But this is bike racing. If you don't think the equipment you have is competitive, then get different equipment. I'm not out there promoting or asking for a race restricted to ill-fitting, outdated, poorly maintained steel bikes with box rims and mismatched tires, just because that's what I happen to own... And you can keep your stupid bubble machine too.

Related subject - course design. The cyclocross pictures from flickr have been pouring in. The northeast isn't very well represented by the way. Almost nothing local. Hundreds of photos per week from other regions though. Lots of variety in courses. Some look good, some not so good. Yes, cyclocross has some rules about barriers, width of the course, the length of the runs, and the percentage of pavement. All of those rules would not be necessary (and neither would the stupid 35 mm tire rule) if everyone adhered to one simple guideline: the course shall be designed such that the fastest way to get around it under human power is on a traditional cyclocross bike. Simple. Maybe not always possible, but when you think about the best cross courses, it's true. I like this guideline because it has a certain purity and relationship to the man versus horse roots of the sport. The course should never be so nasty that a runner could beat the bikes. Now, the world record holders in 10k cross country running maintain almost 23 kph. Even if they had to hold on for the one hour duration of a cross race, these runners could maintain over 20 kph. So a proper cross course should always allow a world-class competitor to go faster than that, or at least faster than any runner could conceivably go under the day's conditions. Similarly, mountain bikes and/or road bikes shouldn't be able to beat a traditional cross bike either. If they can, then there is something wrong with the course. Meet those criteria, and have a track wide enough for good competition (not so narrow that the singlespeeders can block you while they rest and prepare for their next momentum building sprint to conquer the next rise, not mentioning any names here) and you're all set. No additional rules required. And that's what really grinds my (9) gears. Thanks for reading.

My Left Foot

So there is something wrong with my foot. The symptoms sort of match those of a metatarsal stress fracture, but the pain is not that severe so I'm hopeful it's something else. I can't run on it now though. I'm going to a specialist today to see what's up. No matter what, I don't expect to be running for a few weeks at least. Kind of a bummer with some fun races coming up, but I suppose if I'm going to be injured, now is as good a time as any. I'll have to see about riding the bike or racing the last few cx races. Pedaling does not present much problem but I'll need to find out if continuing is advisable, or if I need to start my December break right now. That's all I've got. Thanks for reading.

Cross Tech

It's Friday, I'm injured (more on that later), so no training BS, but I don't want to disappoint you, so here are some thoughts for you to ponder.


Here is Nys' bike. Notice how short the chainstays appear to be.


Contrast that with American Tim Johnson's bike.

I was talking with Jim Quinn at Wrentham. He was using a Cannondale road bike for his second cx bike. He said he used it as his first choice at many races, because the tighter geometry gave him an advantage. Jim owns a fairly large, successful bike shop and could choose just about whatever equipment he desires. It got me thinking. I haven't owned a lot of cx bikes. Besides the bike I ride now, the only other purely cx purpose-built bike I've ridden was a Torelli. That bike was basically a road bike with cantilevers. The wheelbase was 99 cm. Tire clearance was tight, but the bike handled better than anything else I've tried before or since.

Notice that neither of the pro bikes pictured above has the typical nine miles of seatpost sticking out either. The trend on the road has been to compact and shorter and shorter frames. It seems to me many US cx designs follow the MTB model of short seat tubes and long chainstays. IMHO Nys' bike is better, especially for the dry courses we've been seeing lately. It looks a lot like a traditional road bike from a few years back. Thanks for reading.

The Business End

Photo by PHWadsworth

...of Solobreak, featuring new and improved calf muscles. Others by Scott Dowd here. Thanks for reading.

Children of the Cornfield

Photo by PHWadsworth

Aka my 2008 Putney Cyclocross race report. It turns out "the cornfield" has a name, Kathan Meadow, or at least that's the name of the road that we race out of it on. That's correct, part of the Putney CX course travels on a public road with neighbors of the shop occasionally driving it. The course also goes about a hundred feet straight up the side of a steep embankment that must be forty feet high (wait a minute, that's not straight up, is it?), then zig zags all around the shop parking lot and surrounding woods before plunging down into the "jungle of mud" which this year was a rutted corridor that roughly guided your out of control bike back out to the cornfield like a Hot Wheels track. Most definitely old school, most definitely fun, and most definitely the kind of playtime that turns us back into children.

Putney may not be the biggest race, with maybe 200 or so total entrants, but for me the social scene tops all others. Everyone is in a good mood here. You can't help it. Forget the race report: the Putney school was selling some of the best coffee I've ever tasted, as well as -- donuts that did not come from a chain! The first one I got was still warm. Yes, first, as in not last. Not even close. And of course burrittos. And a woodstove burning hot outside the shop, next to where results were posted. Where else can you hang out around a hot stove eating a homemade donut while watching the next race? Nowhere. Back to our race report...

I was expecting a bit of mud in the cornfield, as I knew some rain had gone over the region, just like last year. When I got to the venue early and headed out with Eric for course recon, we found the cornfield oddly dry, just a bit tacky in spots. In contrast, the top part of the course and the "jungle section" were under water. Maybe not snorkel and fins deep, but standing water. Wow. I retreated to the trainer, set up courseside for a few of the early races, and completed my warmup. The weather was quite nice, comfortably cool but not cold, and even a bit warm when the sun was shining, which seemed like more than 50% of the time. I did some good tempo and knew my legs should be ok after taking Saturday off from racing, but I wondered how rutted the course was getting from the 4s, and how much it would dry out. The answers: a lot and not much, in that order.

The 11:00 group consisted of about twenty-five 35+ riders, a 30 second gap to just ten of us in the 45+, then another 30 seconds to ten or so 55+. Off the line I'm last, but in contact. Cronoman is butting heads with Soups up front, and Timmy is just ahead of me. I'm bad on the barriers, but pass one guy heading into the woods, and I f up a lot of stuff, and get gapped on the mini runup. We plunge down the slippery slope into the jungle and I come out the other side in one piece, and the race is on. Timmy opens a nice gap in the cornfield, and there is a Putney guy and another guy between us. I think I'm ahead of just one guy. The Putney guy has lots of local fans around the course. I sit on these guys up Kathan Meadow Road the first time, and then get gapped on the runup. Here's where I may get mixed up, but it went something like what follows.

I moved past one or two guys the next time around the cornfield. Timmy is still well ahead, and I doubt I'll catch him. Then the Putney guy passes me back. At least I think that it's him. After a bit the people cheering for him seems to have switched names? I'm baffled, but I follow him anyway and he takes better lines than I was using so I go to school. We bomb back down the slippery slope and start racing through the jungle, and there is the Cronoman laying on his back, looking unconscious. He is about fifteen feet from the racing line. WTF? Someone is attending to him, and I see slight movement as I go past. Briefly I think about stopping to help, but he is supposed to be a tough bastard, and I don't want to spoil the child by pretending to care that much about him, so I presume he'll be fit to plow tomorrow and keep racing. Besides, Timmy is the nicest guy on the team, and he didn't stop, so damned if I'm going to.

Putney guy pulls off on the road like he wants me to pull through, but since Timmy is the next guy up the road, nothing doing. Putney guy doesn't protest and resumes his pull, with me sitting on. I shadow him as best I can but he gaps me here and there. I report my fallen comrade to the officials as we race by the finish line, but by the time we go back through the jungle Crono is gone. Putney guy keeps pulling and Timmy is now in sight. At the finish line the lap cards say two to go, but then they yell out "231 you have one to go." 231 is Putney guy. It takes a second for my feeble brain to realize that I am not racing this guy; he is the leader of the 55+ and had caught me from behind. They were apparently doing one lap less than us. So now I really felt like a jackass for not pulling, but what the hell. He seems to know he's got his race sewn up, or maybe I got faster, but this time I don't get gapped anywhere and we careen through the jungle and back into the cornfield together. He tows me up to Timmy and the three of us hit the road together, so this time I pull. Putney guy (turns out this ones name is Phil) still passed before the runup and those two both beat me to the top. Phil pulled off as winner of the 55+ and then it was just me and Timmy with one lap to go. I fumbled my way over the mini runup, then took the front going around the shop. We made it through the jungle for the last time without any mosh dives, and as we entered the cornfield I eased a bit just to make sure he was on my wheel. Well, a BOB kit comes flying by, but it ain't Timmy -- It's the Cronoman, back from the dead, and charging past without so much as a grunt! Glad I didn't stop for his dramatic ass... I get his wheel, and figure what the hell, I'm going to race the fucker. I don't get too many chances to beat him at cross, so I'm not letting this one slip by.

At least that was the plan... This year the corn rows must have been planted pretty tight, and they kind of did a half-assed job of cutting them down. The racing track (worn in from weekly practice races on this course) was only one cornrow wide. Over near the end, just before where they'd laid out a chicane with stakes and tape, there were two big tractor ruts. The racing line made a quick shunt from one cornrow to the next in order to avoid the ruts. Well, I was drafting the possessed Cronoman so close, I missed the cutover when he swerved through it, ending up on the wrong side of the ruts. My choice was either crash through the chicane tape or jump back over the ruts, which was really the only choice. I got gapped and he bullied his way around a few 35+ backmarkers we'd caught and that was that. I almost blew closing back up to his wheel on the road, but he just sprinted up the runup anyway and cruised comfortably into the last paying spot of 5th while I rolled in behind, with Timmy just one second more back at the line.

Afterward was more donuts, burrittos, coffee, music, and making fun of the Cronoman's crash. I guess the stategic genius was leading the race and then decided the treacherous jungle would be a good place to attack. He caught a rut while standing up sprinting, vaulting himself into the air for a somersault half gainer with a twist before pirouetting down into the mud to perform his famous dieing bug finale. I'm going to have to get faster so that the next time he pulls a circus act like this I can be close enough behind to watch the show. Yes, almost three hours of driving each way for a 45 minute race is a little crazy, but if there was any race this year that made me feel like a kid again it was this one. Thanks for reading.

What's so special...

About Putney? This race holds a special place to many of us not just because it's the 18th annual running of their cross event. The Putney/West Hill orange and yellow colors are a huge part of New England bike racing tradition. If you're rolling your eyes about nostalgia, then just go ahead and click away.

Before bikereg, cyclingnews, and finish line cameras, most races only picked and posted five or ten placings in a given race. The only recognition you were likely to get after everyone had gone home from an event was maybe an obituary sized listing in the fine print at the back of the printed version of Velo-News. Except at Putney/West Hill's Tour of the Valleys. The race finished on a steep hill and the organizers cared enough to score and record each and every rider, without a camera. A few weeks after the race we'd all get printed finish results in the mail. Stuff you take for granted today.

Some of you were lucky enough to have participated in this annual epic road race. I know this because you're listed in these printed results from (coincidentally) the 18th running of that race, held in 1988. Click, zoom, and peruse for your pleasure. Notables would be Zencycle getting beat at the line by Dorrie Bowley in the citizen's race, several of us in the cat 3's, and Gewilli's college roommate in the juniors. Also FYI, "Veterans" was 35+ and "Masters" was 45+ in those days. See if you can find your name and placing.

Sadly, The Tour of the Valleys is no longer with us, a victim of selfish racers who could not seem to follow simple rules of community decency. Luckily, we still get to make our annual pilgrimage to the true heart of New England cycling once a year for the cross race. See you Sunday. Thanks for reading.

   

Putney

Timmy leads the way. Image courtesy of Michelle Hurley

These pictures make me feel cold... It looks like Gewilli will get his wish, as the forecast calls for some rain the next few days with seasonably cool Vermont weather on race day. This will mean an icy-slick track of mud around the corn pasture, and covered knees everywhere else. I guess I can take it.


The Noho course was so narrow, riders could barely fit four abreast in some spots.

Too bad the 35 year old going-pro Cat 3's like Trackrich will have to once again share the course with us Grandpa Simpsons on our adult tricycles. Someday these promoters might wake up and realize guys like him are so fast they're in another league. These fast guys need... Oh wait, there already is another league... Thanks for reading the ramblings of an old fool...

LSD

Image courtesy of S. Suprenant

Lap one of the Noho Day 1 masters, DFL over the tracks. Murat looking somewhat disinterested two spots ahead. Thanks for reading.

Rhythm and Blues

With age my training cycles keep on getting shorter and shorter. There was a time I could do five week builds before a week of rest. Now I'm down to less than half of that. For two weeks I have the rhythm, the next week, the blues. That's ok and it works well; the tricky part is making sure the music doesn't stop until Monday... In an ideal world, at least for this time of year, I could take it easy during the darkness of the weekdays and be at least starting to rattle, strum, and hum by the following Saturday. Yet of course the world ain't ideal, bringing us to today's weekend race reports.

The past two weeks my training was solid, even though this past week morning cold and darkness relegated my bike workouts exclusively to the trainer. That was fine though, and my runs went well too, although a few new aches and pains came up. My plan was to get through the weekend and then give my legs some recuperation time. I had left Sunday open just in case I felt up to running a long race (I didn't), only registering for the Saturday Northampton. I chose the "A" masters this time because the officials are consistently cutting races one lap short of whatever is specified, and I did not want to drive all the way out there for a 34 minute B race. Colin's race predictor demonstrated that I was in pretty far over my head in this field; registering late, securing a last row starting spot wouldn't help much, but who needs a handout?

All six of my readers were at the race, except Il Brucie, who I saw Saturday night, so I'm not sure why I'm bothering with this, but here goes. Once again the weather stayed clear and dry. The Noho course layout must be the fastest race in New England, or at least tied with Gloucester. I heard the track was 2.8k in length. If that's true, even I averaged 16 mph at the back of the master's field, finishing seven laps in 46 minutes. That's right, I finished about where I started, at the back. OK, that's not 100% accurate, because in reality I started off the back, standing in place, chatting with the official's for ten seconds after the starting whistle blew. At that moment, I realized I'd know Bill Dolan longer than anyone else on the race scene, but that's a story for another day. This entry will focus on my sit and wait strategic move, both in hopes of making a better race for me as well as a more interesting race report for the blog.

We should back up for a second though, to stick with the R&B aspect of the story. As soon as I woke up on Saturday, I wasn't feeling it. Getting on the bike at the venue confirmed we were in Mississippi Delta territory here; your hero wasn't going to tear it up today. Anyhow, I got in two preview laps of the course before hitting the trainer for the real warmup, but I never settled on any lines through the root sections. That's unimportant too, but I mention it anyway because this is piss-poor unplanned Monday morning writing. Sorry. So my brilliant strategy: approach the race like a time trial. Avoid surges. Try to grind out huge gears on all the power sections, keep it steady, and run my competitors down as the race wore on. I've watched Colman O race in his own little world this season, and it works for him. Not that I was expecting the same results, but I just wanted to give it a try. The second part of this strategy was the "sit back and let the race roll off" portion. The idea here was to avoid the certain back of the eighty rider pack first lap bottlenecks by being behind them. I'd go right into TT rollout mode, ride the course at speed, and come up on the back of the group just as they emerged from the certain clusterphuck at the sandpit and/or runup, using my momentum and nicely warmed up legs to blow by the last ten riders and enter the fray, late but rockin'. It didn't really work...

Ten seconds was probably more like five, while Mr D quipped "now you got them right where you want them," but it seemed like the pack was miles ahead. I took off in pursuit, with onlookers not privy to my brilliant plan yelling at me in disbelief. It took about a tenth of a lap for me to roll up on the back of the logjam and be left turning the cranks at three rpms waiting to clear the bottleneck... I should have sat there for thirty seconds. Who needs good planning? You go to war with the army you've got, right? So now it's a typical last guy in line start, except that this field consisted of mostly decent riders, so we were moving OK and there were no gaps yet. Some enthusiastic fans yelled "You're last, you suck!" and that made my day. I spent the next lap trying to breath and laugh the entire way around. At least nobody tried to grab my wheel and throw me back down the runup. They didn't have to though. My forward progress -- not so fantastic.

Issues were many -- bouncing through the roots (remember that not deciding on lines part?). Maybe one of these weeks I need to try my new glasses so I can actually see some of this shit. I fumbled with my pedals on every remount; the sand and muck were creating issues. I passed a few here and there, and was next to Gewilli when his so much for Ebay new to him used tubular went Pssssst after just a half lap of racing. Flying I was not, but I stuck to my plan in hopes the race would come back to me. I ground the 50x17 for much of the course. Teammate Tim was about ten seconds ahead, with a few riders in between us. Maybe I should have broken my rule and tried to surge up, but I thought if I held to my strategy we'd be working together soon enough. I got close after two laps, but then a few more ill-timed miscues such as a late dismount on the runup and subsequent missed pedal raunch job up top pushed me back precious seconds. And I didn't even have tifosi telling me I sucked anymore.

On two to go I put together my best lap, closing to within a few seconds of Timmy, just in time for him to start going hard after G-Ride and Special Sauce. I'd get no closer, but did manage to narrowly avoid being caught by the leader and sent to an early grave. I heard them announce Jonny's win right about when I made the second train crossing, perhaps a minute past the finish on what was my seventh and final lap. Final damage was 55th of 67 finishers, 19/23 amongst the 45+. Yeah...

Saturday night we gathered at Brucie's house for his deck warming party. It wasn't all that warm, but Elizabeth made fabulous chili and wings. Orange suit boy must have been home and sick, but he missed out on terrific food and beverage, and we got to make jokes about him in his defenseless absence. We also relived the day's race with Murat, who even has photographic proof of the happening on his blog.

Sunday's plan was to hit the Lexington Battle Green 5k to see if I could eke out a sub-18 PR on a certified course. Again the answer was no. It turns out that racing cyclocross on Saturday isn't the road to running PRs on Sunday, at least not for me. They have a 10k at this event too, but since I ran one last week, and because my lower legs have been feeling abused this week, I opted for the short route. My buddy Tom drove up with me and did the 10k, as did my old friends locals Sue and Donovan. About 230 runners lined up for the 5k. The flyer noted a short, steep hill at the one mile mark. Hopefully this would lead to gradual downhill the rest of the way. At the gun several young runners literally flew off the line. One minute of what felt like sprinting into the race and I was already 200 meters behind the rapidly exploding lead group of five. My plan was to go for broke and try to run the 5:48 pace required to break 18 minutes. The start pace felt like 5:15 to me, but after a gentle second half of mile one, the marker came at 5:44. As advertised, there a short wall appeared immediately. It slowed me down and drove me close to the red. On the other side the downhill was only slightly less steep. I passed one kid and the road quickly leveled out. I was hurting but tried to hold it together. Mile two came up at 11:45, for a 6:01 split, and all hopes of a sub 18 were pretty much gone. The next guy was at least fifteen seconds ahead, but despite my suffering I pushed on in hopes of a PR or at least an age group win, as all those ahead of me appeared to be barely out of high school, if that. We raced into the edges of Lexington center before turning toward the finish. They had a mile 3 marker which I passed at 17:48, so 6:03 for the split. Official time at the tape was 18:16, six seconds slower than my best. At first they had me in fourth so they must have missed somebody. I won my age group but it was just for a medal. The post-race buffet was unbelievable, kind of a waste after racing just 5k. I packed mine up and brought it home for dinner.

Now it's blues week. The weather looks to be turning ugly-cross for next weekend. I'm not sure how I'm going to approach this. It's all morning workouts now. Better get started. Thanks for reading.