These season review questions appeared on Joe Friel's Blog a few days ago. They sort of assume that you are a serious competitor and train in order to get better race results. Close enough, right? Why don't we all pull an OJ and take a stab at them? I'll go first.
Here are five questions to answer at the end of your race season and before starting to prepare for the coming season:
1. What was the high point of your season? Why does this stand out for you? Was it what you thought it would be at the start of the season?
I'll divert and say the entire month of August. This was probably because the weather in the spring and early summer was not so great. When August came around, rather than being burned out, I was loving my bikes, riding at every opportunity, staying out until past dark because I didn't want to put the bike away. Of course we had D2R2, and the weeknight TT's went well, but other than those I did nothing stellar race-wise. Yet it stands out because I was enjoying decent form and putting it to use by loving to ride.
2. What was your greatest disappointment? Why did this happen? Is there anything you could have done to have avoided it?
I will have to say coming up empty-handed at both Jiminy Peak in the spring, and Bow in the fall, in both cases more due to poor tactics than to lacking fitness. I had great form at Jiminy and wasted it on a dumb attack 5k from the end because I thought the winning break was long gone. Turned out they were caught in the final kilometer. That finish climb has been very good to me in the past and I should have been in there contesting the win. Bow, maybe not the win, but attacking with 1.5 laps to go was stupid and it prevented me from doing battle with the other contenders on the last lap. I have too much experience to waste good form making stupid mistakes like these.
3. Looking back, do you think you trained as wisely and as hard as you could have trained?
Wisely? Maybe. Hard? Probably not. The spring went well, beginning with a huge week under the sunny California skies. In the spring I did a lot of racing. Then I even got a power meter. At first I did some specific work to test my abilities at various durations. For a little while I even worked on my greatest weaknesses, sprints and other extremely high power efforts. Then the summer came and by June I was pretty raced out and could have used a break, and in July I got the swine flu or whatever it was that caused me to crap my way from 170 pounds down to 161 in just 48 hours. When I got going again I was more focused on the TTs and so I can't say I ever put together a meaningful block of Special High Intensity Training like I should have. On the other hand I am up to 374 hours on the bike in the past nine months, by far the most I've done since back when my training diaries were handwritten.
4. What is the one thing you most need to work on for next season in order to perform better?
See above, but also I need to get tougher. By that I mean that masters races are always up the road and I need to be able to ride up front more and still be able to have my strength at the finishes. I'm still pretty good at efforts of 3-5 minutes and in races like Jiminy and Sunapee I can be in the mix on the short final climbs. However, I have been relying too much on a race being "easy" and staying together up to that point. And of course I need to work on my shorter efforts as well. Lastly, even though I am a road rider and this is a road season post, one thing that I learned/confirmed with the stupid power meter is that I am most efficient at high cadences, or perhaps more accurately I suck at low cadences. Having never been a grinder, I guess this makes sense and I always knew this to some extent, but I never realized just how badly my power falls off the map when my cadence drops. This knowledge is helpful for performing in TTs and on certain climbs, but it also identifies a weakness. Some situations favor a rider who can put out big crank torque at low rpms, cyclocross being the prime example. Just one more reason why I perform relatively poorly in this discipline compared to peers I own in road TTs, and a weakness I should address with training.
5. What would you most like to accomplish next season? Is it a good stretch and yet within your reach if you do things right?
Winning a race would be nice. It's been a long time. Yes it is within my reach. Helping team mates win or do well too. But most of all I want to have fun, relax, stay healthy and be able to keep on doing this for another 25 years at least. Thanks for reading.
since 2006
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
I can't compete
My commute doesn't pass by lighthouses but don't let that stop you from enjoying these images. Actually they're not from my daily commute, but instead my weekly mid-day soiree from the home office in Canton up to see the boss woman in the 'ham. Not to be judgmental, but WTF is up with this guy? An true entrepreneur I guess. I haven't followed the link...
Here we have construction photos of the world's largest bike rack. There's a much longer story to this that I don't have time for right now. Instead, a quick race report.
Sunday I did the Discover Assonet 5k in, you guessed it, Assonet Ma. Since I was unable/unwilling to head up to Vermont for the weekend to play cx with all the big girls and boys, this was my substitute. To conserve funds and all that, Saturday I just stayed home and went for a bike ride in the morning. As luck would have it, ten minutes from home I ran into the semi-retired local pro, who was out spinning the Vegas out of his legs in prep for the evening Mayor's Cup pro crit in downtown Boston. We rode together for an hour and then I bid farewell to do another few hours on my own. Going through Foxboro I came out into the biggest hybrid gumby jamboree I'd ever witnessed. Apparently the 25 mile version of the Rodman Ride for Kids was just starting, and I was like, get me out of here, fast. I ended up doing the Tower Hill loop and staying out for nearly four hours, which was one more than I'd planned. Whatever.
On to phase two of my race prep, which was sitting around the Oktoberfest fire until 1 am making sure the kegs were empty. I got home at 2:30. At least the race did not start until noon, but I barely made it anyway after seriously contemplating bagging out. My cx bike is in dire need of some TLC before my season debut at Gloucester Saturday, and that would have been a good excuse to stay home (BTW, the work never did get done. I think I need to put a mechanic on retainer). Back to the race. Of course it was raining, but warm. An OK day for running, and shitty for riding, thus I stuck with the plan as appropriate punishment for Saturday night. The course is USATF certified, but that's about the only good thing I can say about it. Assonet is a very nice town, a typical SE Mass swamp yankee hamlet. 99% of the roads down there are lovely, lightly traveled lanes among farms and woods, with a scattering of new development. The other 1% is the suburban requisite highway underpass and adjacent strip, made up of things like CVS, Dunkin Donuts, and Mobil stations. And guess where they had the race? Did I mention it was an out and back? Seriously.
The headquaters was at St. Bernard's Parish. Luckily I'm immature enough to not be able to stop laughing about that even today, so the trip was not a total loss. They had 150 runners registered but I guess a lot were no-shows as only about half that are listed in the results. We started on a narrow road across from the church, sprinting for about 200 yards before weaving through the stopped traffic out onto Main Street. As you can see in the photo, I did not even line up in the front row (I am in the middle behind the guy with the black and white shirt). Ben Ndaya was a lock to win this thing and the $100 first prize before we even took one step, and I sure as hell wasn't going to get in his way. My running has been coming along this year, but I don't do any speedwork, and in my condition had no idea what pace I'd be running, or even if I'd end up walking.
Out on Main about ten runners sprinted away, trying to stay in Ben's wake. Good luck dudes. I was marking Julie Spolidoro and her scary abs. When I was running well last year, she was only a little bit faster than me, but she has a perfect sense of pace, always negative splitting. But the other two women contenders present were on her shoulders, and it seemed so slow to me... I wanted to test myself and see what I could run, and my feeble brain decided that Spolidoro was just watching the other two, not trying to run a good time. So I passed them. The first mile came up at six flat. Could be worse, but I was pretty sure right then and there that I could say goodbye to any chance of negative splitting. The second mile went under the highway before turning up a small hill. A few of the early rabbits had already faded back and I followed them to the turnaround, where Julie passed me. On the downhill she pulled away but I tried to follow and passed the three guys, two of whom looked like they might be in my age group. 6:05 for the second mile. Not horrible, but I was hurting. The homestretch was back through "the strip" and I can't say I felt safe with traffic turning and entering. There were a lot of puddles. In last half mile they had cones marking a narrow lane for us, but it was fifty percent filled with water and the road was lined with parking lots anyway.
The third mile was marked and I split this one in 6:06 but Joann Matthews and one of the dudes I'd passed earlier came blowing by me in a kick finish. Turned out he was over 50 anyway. I crossed in 18:54 with one guy from my age group ahead of me. So there you have it. Not a bad test. This race is surely a skip in the future, unless they change the course or if you have an honest crack at the top three cash. I went home, caught up on sleep, and did not work on my bike. Thanks for reading.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Old News
OK, I'm a week late on the sequel to the Bob Beal Omnium saga, but I promised xyz the story. I suspect he was planning to go and then wussed out after waking to rain clouds over Brookline, and now he can't wait to hear about what he missed out on. Loyal readers are our top priority, so here goes.
As mentioned earlier, this year entry to the two criteriums was open to those who chose not to do the omnium. Racers from older age groups were also permitted to enter extra crits if they chose. So even though there were only eighteen entered in the omnium for the 45-54 group, we had around thirty starters in the crit. Paul Curley (Gearworks) and his team mate Bob Bisson were there, and Curley tried to get the official to increase the distance of the race to 25 laps (from 20) but he was denied. Wayne Kirk (Mystic) was also there along with another Mystic guy not in the omnium, bolstering the two riders they already had. With four total, they had the most of any team. I was alone, as was Megdal (NEBC, 4th in the TT). CCB had Pavlov (2nd in the TT) and Karl Hambrecht (no points). Stonebarger (Bike Link, 3rd) Wolfie (Bethel, 5th) were also alone. I think the Mystic guys were 6th and 7th, with Cyclonauts team mates Mike Maloney and race promoter Mike Norton in 8th and 10th. Can't remember who was 9th. So there are all your points holders.
Saturday we raced counter-clockwise, the normal Ninigret course direction. The wind was mild by Ninigret standards, but it was a headwind on the homestretch and especially on the short straight over by the soccer fields. It was warm and humid, but the track was dry and no rain fell during our race, heh-heh. Attacks started early, most containing one of the Gearworks guys. I found out right away that my legs were not that great. I was covering Pavlov, Megdal, and Stonebarger as best as I could, as all are good breakaway riders and they were the most immediate threats for the omnium. Maybe I should have thought this through better. I've done enough omniums to know that each stage counts equally, and just because the TT is sometimes first doesn't make a damn bit of difference. Ninigret sprint specialists Wolfie and Norton were lurking in the field and were going to have two stages to earn big points if nobody got away successfully.
The three guys I was watching all made attacks, so I was jumping on wheels the first half of the race. Rather than take a chance on working with any of them (an risk overextending and leaving myself vulnerable to a counterattack), I stayed defensive. Eventually this caught up to me and Megdal countered hard after I'd just burned a match covering Pavlov and Stonebarger. Since Pete was (on points) the least dangerous in 4th, I had to let that one go. Besides, Hambrecht went with him. I figured he would cover the move for his team mate Pavlov. Karl has a bit of a sprint and is not known to stick his nose in the wind very often, so I was confident that he would either kill the move by sitting on, or at least take the sprint and relegate Pete to 2nd. As it turned out, neither of these things happened.
With four guys in the race, including Kirk, and good field sprinter, I would have thought Mystic would work harder to bring the duo back. I could not do it, as then everyone in the field would have countered me as soon as I was spent from pulling. Mystic did not seem cohesive and just kept attacking one by one. Gearworks did nothing. Nobody did. Pavlov ended up riding the front the rest of the race, with me on his wheel. He could not seem to decide if he should block for his team mate up the road (who had no points) or not. He kept surging and I covered. With two to go the break was a lock, but I got swarmed and lost good position. Then it got pretty crazy, with full contact cycling while the rest of us jockeyed for sprint position. Everyone was trying to get on Norton's train. The last lap was crazy. I was trying to not lose sight of Pavlov or Stonebarger. Pavlov does not corner well at all, so following him was a mistake. At one point he looked across the road at Norton, and then just kept riding straight on to the grass. I was a bit outside of him and so I got pushed off too. Burned a match getting going again, then in the last corner a guy hit his pedal and nearly took me out. A few revs of the cranks later, another guy shut the door on me and pushed me into the grass yet again. Finally I got clear and wound it up but I only got the last points for 10th, edging out Pavlov by a tire. Stonebarger got nothing, but Megdal won, giving him 26 points to my 20, now second overall. Wolfie was up there and now third with 19, Norton 4th with 16. Dave Johnson from Mystic got 9th and now had 15, with Pavlov and Hambrecht splitting the two second places among their team for 13 each.
Sunday another Ninigret crit. Most competitors stayed down there in the luxurious 50's era US Rt 1 motels around the park. Since I'm only an hour away, I drove home and got to see Vinnie out on 95. The weather was perfect on Sunday though, sunny with again not too much wind in the morning for our race. It would shift and pick up during the event though. And as a twist, today we went counter-clockwise, a first for Ninigret as far as I know. On the warmup, one competitor, whose identity will remain a secret to protect his dignity, quipped that this was "like jerking off left handed." Ok, so you know he is a righty.
We had even more starters for this, as a bunch of racers, including Danielle Ruane and Cheryl Wolf elected to do double-duty and enter the crit. I knew that I had to be more aggressive today and try to get up the road, or else face certain defeat at the hands (legs) of the sprinters. But not knowing how the backward race would play out, I sat in at first. And not much happened, least not that I can remember. For a while it got downright slow. Danielle and Cheryl even attacked at one point rather than just ride around with a bunch of grumpy old men. Then Megdal took matters under advisement and strung out the field. I think he knew that Wolfie and Norton were hoping for a bunch gallop where they could trap him deep in the pack, denying him good points. He did not have much to gain but he drilled it for two laps and we went single file, but they weren't going to let him get away this time. We crossed with six or seven to go and he sat up, so I countered hard. The gap grew instantly, and I looked back and Pavlov was on my wheel. With a seven point cushion over him, this was perfect for me. But he did not want to work. WTF? He came through soft and just moved over. I could not understand it, but there was no time for debate, so I kept driving it. Then another guy from Tri-Hard bridged up to us, but I think that killed him. He would try to work but he did not have much. Pavlov still kept coming through soft even though we had at least 20 seconds and a solid chance to stay away.
By now Megdal was back on the front and driving it in an effort to bring us back. I said to Pavlov "Mike, WTF? We can win this" and he muttered back "I can't work with you." I was baffled. He had just as many points as his team mate Hambrecht, and every reason in the world to work. Karl could sit on the chase. But he just kept coming through soft and then pumping the elbow. By now there were 2.5 laps to go and Megdal has us back under ten seconds, but he was cooked. The Tri-Hard guy sat up and went back. Then, bizarrely, Pavlov says "let's go" and attacks me. He was taking the incredibly stupid and inefficient inside lines through the tight turns. I was bullshit. Our gap was mostly evaporated by now, but I had nothing to lose as I'd be toast in the sprint anyhow. I struggled onto his wheel and barely got my breath when he pulled over and started pumping the elbow. The guy had been not working for four laps and now he won't even give me the courtesy of a decent recovery.
We took two to go but the pack was still very close, and Norton had Maloney on the front driving it. I kept going and got another pull out of Pavlov but it was too little too late. At the bell the pack was right on us but I kept riding anyway, nothing to lose. They swarmed me with 3/4 lap to go. I tried to mount a charge but after five laps off the front you know how that goes. Coming into the sprint it wound up and I was in contact, but then Hambrecht swapped wheels (with his own team mate Pavlov, I think, not sure) and went down HARD. I just scooted by but missed the sprint train and finished out of the points.
Norton won the race with Wolfie second, moving them into 3rd and 2nd on the omnium. Pete got 4th in the sprint behind Johnson, thus winning the omnium with Johnson 4th, and me hanging on for 5th despite being shutout today. This was due to Hambrecht's misfortune. He was a mess. I think his pinky toe on one foot was OK but every other bone in his body was broken. The meat wagon came and one of the EMTs was pretty hot too, but they spatula'd him up and off to the hospital. On the cooldown I talked to Megdal and tried to figure out what was up with Pavlov's tactics. At first he said he was confused, but later it sounded like he had a soft deal with Megdal. Oh well. These things happend in omniums. It was fun and I was almost inspired to race the crits this past weekend, but that did not happen. That's another story. Thanks for reading race fans! No proofing. Sue me.
As mentioned earlier, this year entry to the two criteriums was open to those who chose not to do the omnium. Racers from older age groups were also permitted to enter extra crits if they chose. So even though there were only eighteen entered in the omnium for the 45-54 group, we had around thirty starters in the crit. Paul Curley (Gearworks) and his team mate Bob Bisson were there, and Curley tried to get the official to increase the distance of the race to 25 laps (from 20) but he was denied. Wayne Kirk (Mystic) was also there along with another Mystic guy not in the omnium, bolstering the two riders they already had. With four total, they had the most of any team. I was alone, as was Megdal (NEBC, 4th in the TT). CCB had Pavlov (2nd in the TT) and Karl Hambrecht (no points). Stonebarger (Bike Link, 3rd) Wolfie (Bethel, 5th) were also alone. I think the Mystic guys were 6th and 7th, with Cyclonauts team mates Mike Maloney and race promoter Mike Norton in 8th and 10th. Can't remember who was 9th. So there are all your points holders.
Saturday we raced counter-clockwise, the normal Ninigret course direction. The wind was mild by Ninigret standards, but it was a headwind on the homestretch and especially on the short straight over by the soccer fields. It was warm and humid, but the track was dry and no rain fell during our race, heh-heh. Attacks started early, most containing one of the Gearworks guys. I found out right away that my legs were not that great. I was covering Pavlov, Megdal, and Stonebarger as best as I could, as all are good breakaway riders and they were the most immediate threats for the omnium. Maybe I should have thought this through better. I've done enough omniums to know that each stage counts equally, and just because the TT is sometimes first doesn't make a damn bit of difference. Ninigret sprint specialists Wolfie and Norton were lurking in the field and were going to have two stages to earn big points if nobody got away successfully.
The three guys I was watching all made attacks, so I was jumping on wheels the first half of the race. Rather than take a chance on working with any of them (an risk overextending and leaving myself vulnerable to a counterattack), I stayed defensive. Eventually this caught up to me and Megdal countered hard after I'd just burned a match covering Pavlov and Stonebarger. Since Pete was (on points) the least dangerous in 4th, I had to let that one go. Besides, Hambrecht went with him. I figured he would cover the move for his team mate Pavlov. Karl has a bit of a sprint and is not known to stick his nose in the wind very often, so I was confident that he would either kill the move by sitting on, or at least take the sprint and relegate Pete to 2nd. As it turned out, neither of these things happened.
With four guys in the race, including Kirk, and good field sprinter, I would have thought Mystic would work harder to bring the duo back. I could not do it, as then everyone in the field would have countered me as soon as I was spent from pulling. Mystic did not seem cohesive and just kept attacking one by one. Gearworks did nothing. Nobody did. Pavlov ended up riding the front the rest of the race, with me on his wheel. He could not seem to decide if he should block for his team mate up the road (who had no points) or not. He kept surging and I covered. With two to go the break was a lock, but I got swarmed and lost good position. Then it got pretty crazy, with full contact cycling while the rest of us jockeyed for sprint position. Everyone was trying to get on Norton's train. The last lap was crazy. I was trying to not lose sight of Pavlov or Stonebarger. Pavlov does not corner well at all, so following him was a mistake. At one point he looked across the road at Norton, and then just kept riding straight on to the grass. I was a bit outside of him and so I got pushed off too. Burned a match getting going again, then in the last corner a guy hit his pedal and nearly took me out. A few revs of the cranks later, another guy shut the door on me and pushed me into the grass yet again. Finally I got clear and wound it up but I only got the last points for 10th, edging out Pavlov by a tire. Stonebarger got nothing, but Megdal won, giving him 26 points to my 20, now second overall. Wolfie was up there and now third with 19, Norton 4th with 16. Dave Johnson from Mystic got 9th and now had 15, with Pavlov and Hambrecht splitting the two second places among their team for 13 each.
Sunday another Ninigret crit. Most competitors stayed down there in the luxurious 50's era US Rt 1 motels around the park. Since I'm only an hour away, I drove home and got to see Vinnie out on 95. The weather was perfect on Sunday though, sunny with again not too much wind in the morning for our race. It would shift and pick up during the event though. And as a twist, today we went counter-clockwise, a first for Ninigret as far as I know. On the warmup, one competitor, whose identity will remain a secret to protect his dignity, quipped that this was "like jerking off left handed." Ok, so you know he is a righty.
We had even more starters for this, as a bunch of racers, including Danielle Ruane and Cheryl Wolf elected to do double-duty and enter the crit. I knew that I had to be more aggressive today and try to get up the road, or else face certain defeat at the hands (legs) of the sprinters. But not knowing how the backward race would play out, I sat in at first. And not much happened, least not that I can remember. For a while it got downright slow. Danielle and Cheryl even attacked at one point rather than just ride around with a bunch of grumpy old men. Then Megdal took matters under advisement and strung out the field. I think he knew that Wolfie and Norton were hoping for a bunch gallop where they could trap him deep in the pack, denying him good points. He did not have much to gain but he drilled it for two laps and we went single file, but they weren't going to let him get away this time. We crossed with six or seven to go and he sat up, so I countered hard. The gap grew instantly, and I looked back and Pavlov was on my wheel. With a seven point cushion over him, this was perfect for me. But he did not want to work. WTF? He came through soft and just moved over. I could not understand it, but there was no time for debate, so I kept driving it. Then another guy from Tri-Hard bridged up to us, but I think that killed him. He would try to work but he did not have much. Pavlov still kept coming through soft even though we had at least 20 seconds and a solid chance to stay away.
By now Megdal was back on the front and driving it in an effort to bring us back. I said to Pavlov "Mike, WTF? We can win this" and he muttered back "I can't work with you." I was baffled. He had just as many points as his team mate Hambrecht, and every reason in the world to work. Karl could sit on the chase. But he just kept coming through soft and then pumping the elbow. By now there were 2.5 laps to go and Megdal has us back under ten seconds, but he was cooked. The Tri-Hard guy sat up and went back. Then, bizarrely, Pavlov says "let's go" and attacks me. He was taking the incredibly stupid and inefficient inside lines through the tight turns. I was bullshit. Our gap was mostly evaporated by now, but I had nothing to lose as I'd be toast in the sprint anyhow. I struggled onto his wheel and barely got my breath when he pulled over and started pumping the elbow. The guy had been not working for four laps and now he won't even give me the courtesy of a decent recovery.
We took two to go but the pack was still very close, and Norton had Maloney on the front driving it. I kept going and got another pull out of Pavlov but it was too little too late. At the bell the pack was right on us but I kept riding anyway, nothing to lose. They swarmed me with 3/4 lap to go. I tried to mount a charge but after five laps off the front you know how that goes. Coming into the sprint it wound up and I was in contact, but then Hambrecht swapped wheels (with his own team mate Pavlov, I think, not sure) and went down HARD. I just scooted by but missed the sprint train and finished out of the points.
Norton won the race with Wolfie second, moving them into 3rd and 2nd on the omnium. Pete got 4th in the sprint behind Johnson, thus winning the omnium with Johnson 4th, and me hanging on for 5th despite being shutout today. This was due to Hambrecht's misfortune. He was a mess. I think his pinky toe on one foot was OK but every other bone in his body was broken. The meat wagon came and one of the EMTs was pretty hot too, but they spatula'd him up and off to the hospital. On the cooldown I talked to Megdal and tried to figure out what was up with Pavlov's tactics. At first he said he was confused, but later it sounded like he had a soft deal with Megdal. Oh well. These things happend in omniums. It was fun and I was almost inspired to race the crits this past weekend, but that did not happen. That's another story. Thanks for reading race fans! No proofing. Sue me.
Friday, September 18, 2009
He's Masticating, huh-huh
OK, lots of guesses, but most of you focused on the much-debated monkey business of the tubular gluing process, rather than the properties of the glue like I noted. Over on the salon the topic of thinning Mastik 1 came up. Having spent way too many years of my past life testing and analyzing adhesives as part of my old job, rather than listen to the mindless banter and lore on the forum, I set out to determine the real answer as to what Mastik1 is. Except I don't work in the lab anymore, and never paid attention in high school chemistry class (that would have required actually attending high school...)
Anyway, Mastik1 lists "natural rubbers" and hexane as ingredients. Natural rubbers are the kind that comes from trees - very low tech. These kinds of adhesives are known for very high tack (stickiness) and peel strength (sounds good, right?) but piss-poor (that is a highly technical term) heat resistance and shear strength (aka "splitting" or leaving residue on both adhered surfaces). We made stuff like underhood labels for Honda and Toyota, as well as that holographic "Intel Inside" sticker on the PC you're probably staring at. As such, we used more sophisticated acrylic resin polymer formulas, and I don't know much about crude rubber-based PSAs. Not that I know all that much about anything.
Since Mastik1 contains hexane, I believe it is a solution. Someone on the salon claimed it was a dispersion or colloid, but I don't think that is true. Some rubber-based adhesives are aqueous emulsions (i.e. latex, including even Jevelco Tire Life) but those are easily identifiable by their milky-white appearance). But I digress. In my investigation, I learned a new word - Mastication. Now you know the answer to the puzzle, as well as the etymology of the Mastik1 name. You see, in the tree processing industry "masticating" is a mechanical chewing/grinding of the pulp product. This is done in the process of making natural rubber products, like tire glue. I welcome comments from the chemistry experts in the audience as to whether or not they're truly soluble in hexane or not. Thanks for reading monkey people!
Oh yeah, I will get to the weekend sequel tonight.
Anyway, Mastik1 lists "natural rubbers" and hexane as ingredients. Natural rubbers are the kind that comes from trees - very low tech. These kinds of adhesives are known for very high tack (stickiness) and peel strength (sounds good, right?) but piss-poor (that is a highly technical term) heat resistance and shear strength (aka "splitting" or leaving residue on both adhered surfaces). We made stuff like underhood labels for Honda and Toyota, as well as that holographic "Intel Inside" sticker on the PC you're probably staring at. As such, we used more sophisticated acrylic resin polymer formulas, and I don't know much about crude rubber-based PSAs. Not that I know all that much about anything.
Since Mastik1 contains hexane, I believe it is a solution. Someone on the salon claimed it was a dispersion or colloid, but I don't think that is true. Some rubber-based adhesives are aqueous emulsions (i.e. latex, including even Jevelco Tire Life) but those are easily identifiable by their milky-white appearance). But I digress. In my investigation, I learned a new word - Mastication. Now you know the answer to the puzzle, as well as the etymology of the Mastik1 name. You see, in the tree processing industry "masticating" is a mechanical chewing/grinding of the pulp product. This is done in the process of making natural rubber products, like tire glue. I welcome comments from the chemistry experts in the audience as to whether or not they're truly soluble in hexane or not. Thanks for reading monkey people!
Oh yeah, I will get to the weekend sequel tonight.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Gluing tubulars
There is a prize for anyone who can guess the relationship between this photo and my online research into the properties of tubular glue. Thanks for reading.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Yo Vinnie!
This was one of those "only in Rhode Island" things. Since I was too old, feeble, and slow to get my shit together in time to capture digital imagery of the moment, I'll need to dig deep for the writing skills to draw the picture with words. Something tells me the Ocean Staters among you already have a good idea of what this is about. Imagine a mid nineties Mercury Cougar, some sort of special edition with not only a white vinyl landau top, but a matching white trunk treatment as well. Teal metallic paint, wire wheels, and white leather interior. Vinnie, sportin' an open collar, gold chains, heavy facial stubble, has the driver's seat properly pushed all the way back, reclined to 45 degrees (thus making room for his imaginary Stella's head-bobbing), long hairy arm properly extended straight out to the top of the steering wheel. He's doing eighty down the left lane of I-95, and we can only imagine what was blaring on his cassette deck. Maybe you had to be there, but maybe you just have to be from around there.
Why was I driving through Warwick? The Bob Beal masters' stage race was this past weekend. The race is two days, three stages, one of which is a short time trial. I signed up for the 45+ category, but turnout was light (to say the least) with only 18 riders partaking in the full omnium for this group. About an equal number of others chose to skip the time trial and omnium and just enter the two criteriums. The entire event takes place in Charlestown, RI at the town-owned Ninigret Park, a former Naval air base that has been converted into a sprawling recreational facility. Ninigret features what may be the only dedicated bicycle criterium course in the country. We would do a 4 mile time trial out on route 1 in front of the park, and then each day contest 20 laps of the 1.5k multi-turned, pancake flat circuit. In an omnium points are awarded for the top ten placings in each stage, and the highest point totals determine the omnium general classification placings. Got it?
The TT course was new this year. It also used to be in the afternoon, with a road race in the morning. This year my TT start was at 8:15 am. Ugh. It rained all the way down, but Ninigret must have been the driest spot in New England Saturday, as the roads were just a little wet. I'd considered winging it and going cannibal so that I would not have to clean two bikes at the end of the day. Having not raced in quite a while, I did not expect to have good enough form to contend for placings anyway. At the last minute though, I relented and loaded up the TT bike along with my aluminum bike for the crit. I am slow to pack up and leave the house as it is, and even more so when it's both dark out and raining, thus I did not hit the road until close to 6:15, getting to the park just after 7:30. Not exactly enough time for a premium warmup, let alone course preview. The good news was that a) the course is pretty much a 4 mile straight shot with just some gentle grades anyway, no turns, and b) most of the competition was in the same boat.
My bike was ready to go anyhow, tires inflated and all that, so I just kitted up and headed out on the course. No time for the trainer. Racing had not started but I did not have enough time to head all the way to the end, as route 1 is a divided highway and so I had to make my u-turns where I could and this added distance to the trip back to the start. I did a few jumps to try to get my heart and legs going and got back to the starting queue right on time. They had the fancy timing equipment with the robotic (female) voice doing the countdown. I knew this event would take less than ten minutes, but that still does not mean you can go out at a full sprint (although I'd bet most riders did). Try doing a nine minute interval some time and get back to me on how it feels if you go out too hard. I've worked on pacing a lot this year, and I must admit that on a flat course where an even effort is appropriate, using the power meter is somewhat helpful for gauging the rhythm. I'm starting out a lot easier than I used to in TTs of all lengths, and it seems to be helping. This time though, there was a slight rise in the first 500 meters, and try as I might to pace, I still found myself over 400 watts in the initial minute. Since my CP5 (on a climb) has tested out to 410 watts in the best case, holding 400 for nine minutes sitting down was unlikely. I was optimistically hoping for 370-380 average, but honestly I had no idea because I've only done testing and training at five minutes standing (Blue Hill) and twenty minutes seated (Rehoboth). So all I really knew to expect was something between 300 and 400.
The opening kilometer was followed by a brief downhill stretch. I was just trying to maintain over 100 rpms. That dumped out onto route 1 where we met a short, shallow grade. I did well here. Others complained of headwinds but honestly I did not notice. At the crest the race was half over and it was time to start emptying the tank. I had not seen this part of the course in warmup. On the gradual downhill, headwind or not, I glanced down to see I was going 52 kph. I was in my 53x13 and this quickly took me to another gradual rise which really sapped the speed and cadence. Clicking down gear after gear my speed plummeted to 36 kph at one point. There was over six minutes on the watch and that meant dig as hard as possible. It crested out and I got it going better, just trying to stay low and aero and fight for every bit of speed I could muster. Eight minutes came and passed, I kept digging, and mercifully the finish line cones appeared. Never getting off the saddle, I rolled through and clicked my timer at 8:49.
On the cooldown, even though I was sucking wind, I was able to calculate that this was just better than 2:13 miles, 43 kph (27 mph). My old standard when I was 30 was 2:12 miles, even in longer TTs. Only recently have I been able to again come close to that. I knew this would be a decent time, but honestly I figured that Peter Megdal (NEBC) would average 28 mph and beat me handily. When I got back to the parking area I was rolling around and ran into Pete and another guy, with Megdal saying he was not sure that he did a great ride. I told him my time and he said "you probably won" and it turns out that he was right. Pete was actually 4th, with Mike Pavlov (CCB) in second just three seconds behind me and John Stonebarger (Bicycle Link) an second or two behind him. The infamous Wolfie was 5th.
So I finally won something this year. Most of all I was pleased to learn that only one rider from the 35+, Scott Giles, had beaten my time. Actually he destroyed it, but he is the guy who lapped the field with Jonny in the 35+ race back in June. There were some other damn good riders in both the 35+ and 45+ fields that did not break 27 mph so I guess maybe there was a headwind after all. Anyway I was happy and leading the omnium. My average watts were 368 and my average cadence 98 rpm. I would be happy with that except that for the first half it was 395/107 and then falling to 344/91 in the last two miles. Part of that was the long grade sapping my cadence but with better pacing (not to mention a real warmup) I should have been able to improve my time over this distance. Next year...
I can't believe I've gone on this long already. You'll have to wait until tomorrow to come back and learn how I managed to not only lose the omnium, but completely miss the podium as well.. And I turned on RSS again, happy now? Thanks for reading, and a shout out to all the Vinnies in RI!
Why was I driving through Warwick? The Bob Beal masters' stage race was this past weekend. The race is two days, three stages, one of which is a short time trial. I signed up for the 45+ category, but turnout was light (to say the least) with only 18 riders partaking in the full omnium for this group. About an equal number of others chose to skip the time trial and omnium and just enter the two criteriums. The entire event takes place in Charlestown, RI at the town-owned Ninigret Park, a former Naval air base that has been converted into a sprawling recreational facility. Ninigret features what may be the only dedicated bicycle criterium course in the country. We would do a 4 mile time trial out on route 1 in front of the park, and then each day contest 20 laps of the 1.5k multi-turned, pancake flat circuit. In an omnium points are awarded for the top ten placings in each stage, and the highest point totals determine the omnium general classification placings. Got it?
The TT course was new this year. It also used to be in the afternoon, with a road race in the morning. This year my TT start was at 8:15 am. Ugh. It rained all the way down, but Ninigret must have been the driest spot in New England Saturday, as the roads were just a little wet. I'd considered winging it and going cannibal so that I would not have to clean two bikes at the end of the day. Having not raced in quite a while, I did not expect to have good enough form to contend for placings anyway. At the last minute though, I relented and loaded up the TT bike along with my aluminum bike for the crit. I am slow to pack up and leave the house as it is, and even more so when it's both dark out and raining, thus I did not hit the road until close to 6:15, getting to the park just after 7:30. Not exactly enough time for a premium warmup, let alone course preview. The good news was that a) the course is pretty much a 4 mile straight shot with just some gentle grades anyway, no turns, and b) most of the competition was in the same boat.
My bike was ready to go anyhow, tires inflated and all that, so I just kitted up and headed out on the course. No time for the trainer. Racing had not started but I did not have enough time to head all the way to the end, as route 1 is a divided highway and so I had to make my u-turns where I could and this added distance to the trip back to the start. I did a few jumps to try to get my heart and legs going and got back to the starting queue right on time. They had the fancy timing equipment with the robotic (female) voice doing the countdown. I knew this event would take less than ten minutes, but that still does not mean you can go out at a full sprint (although I'd bet most riders did). Try doing a nine minute interval some time and get back to me on how it feels if you go out too hard. I've worked on pacing a lot this year, and I must admit that on a flat course where an even effort is appropriate, using the power meter is somewhat helpful for gauging the rhythm. I'm starting out a lot easier than I used to in TTs of all lengths, and it seems to be helping. This time though, there was a slight rise in the first 500 meters, and try as I might to pace, I still found myself over 400 watts in the initial minute. Since my CP5 (on a climb) has tested out to 410 watts in the best case, holding 400 for nine minutes sitting down was unlikely. I was optimistically hoping for 370-380 average, but honestly I had no idea because I've only done testing and training at five minutes standing (Blue Hill) and twenty minutes seated (Rehoboth). So all I really knew to expect was something between 300 and 400.
The opening kilometer was followed by a brief downhill stretch. I was just trying to maintain over 100 rpms. That dumped out onto route 1 where we met a short, shallow grade. I did well here. Others complained of headwinds but honestly I did not notice. At the crest the race was half over and it was time to start emptying the tank. I had not seen this part of the course in warmup. On the gradual downhill, headwind or not, I glanced down to see I was going 52 kph. I was in my 53x13 and this quickly took me to another gradual rise which really sapped the speed and cadence. Clicking down gear after gear my speed plummeted to 36 kph at one point. There was over six minutes on the watch and that meant dig as hard as possible. It crested out and I got it going better, just trying to stay low and aero and fight for every bit of speed I could muster. Eight minutes came and passed, I kept digging, and mercifully the finish line cones appeared. Never getting off the saddle, I rolled through and clicked my timer at 8:49.
On the cooldown, even though I was sucking wind, I was able to calculate that this was just better than 2:13 miles, 43 kph (27 mph). My old standard when I was 30 was 2:12 miles, even in longer TTs. Only recently have I been able to again come close to that. I knew this would be a decent time, but honestly I figured that Peter Megdal (NEBC) would average 28 mph and beat me handily. When I got back to the parking area I was rolling around and ran into Pete and another guy, with Megdal saying he was not sure that he did a great ride. I told him my time and he said "you probably won" and it turns out that he was right. Pete was actually 4th, with Mike Pavlov (CCB) in second just three seconds behind me and John Stonebarger (Bicycle Link) an second or two behind him. The infamous Wolfie was 5th.
So I finally won something this year. Most of all I was pleased to learn that only one rider from the 35+, Scott Giles, had beaten my time. Actually he destroyed it, but he is the guy who lapped the field with Jonny in the 35+ race back in June. There were some other damn good riders in both the 35+ and 45+ fields that did not break 27 mph so I guess maybe there was a headwind after all. Anyway I was happy and leading the omnium. My average watts were 368 and my average cadence 98 rpm. I would be happy with that except that for the first half it was 395/107 and then falling to 344/91 in the last two miles. Part of that was the long grade sapping my cadence but with better pacing (not to mention a real warmup) I should have been able to improve my time over this distance. Next year...
I can't believe I've gone on this long already. You'll have to wait until tomorrow to come back and learn how I managed to not only lose the omnium, but completely miss the podium as well.. And I turned on RSS again, happy now? Thanks for reading, and a shout out to all the Vinnies in RI!
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
What was I thinking?
Wimping out, I skipped racing Green Mountain this weekend. My reasons were many. Mostly though, I've never managed to maintain good form for the Labor Day weekend stage races, meaning this one and the beast before it in years past, Killington. August is always tough for me. The days get shorter and my training wanes. Road season started early this year, and for me it felt like it came to an abrupt, premature end after Bow. But there are a few races still left. Skipping the GMSR allows me to retain a few extra dollars for entries and travel, so now I need to start making decisions about the whats, wheres, and whens of competing this fall.
I'm heavy on conflict the next month or two. Everyone knows that cyclocross season has been shifting earlier, encroaching on the territory of traditional end of season road races. I want to race some cross this year, but I'm not as devoted as most of you, so there's no problem skipping the piddly early races. But now we have some of the biggest and best New England events (which happen to have fast dry courses which suit me) early up in the first two weeks of October. Pretty hard to be competitive at Gloucester if you don't do a few tuneup races beforehand, meaning we're almost forced into racing Septembercross. That sucksmo.
Then there is unfinished business from last year, when my focus was not on cross, but instead split between doing well at the Pinnacle Challenge double duathlon and hunting for PRs in 5k, 5 mile, and 10k running races. This year I'm inclined to skip the Pinnacle, as last year it became evident that my equipment, eyesight, and lack of MTB practice relegated me to hopeless shit-bum status in the critical mountain bike leg, putting me completely out of contention for the overall. None of that has changed this year. Running, on the other hand, or other foot, was going pretty well last year. After nearly PRing at the Lexington 5k though, I was hobbled by a mysterious foot malady that cut my competitive season short. After a few cortisone injections and a ton of snow-and-ice-aided rest time, things returned to normal, but by then it was bike season and I ran only sporadically this spring, completing just one 5-mile race in June before hanging up the shoes for the summer. A few weeks ago I began my fall running campaign with a twenty minute trot around the 'hood. This fall I'd like to resume running for winter training and I hope to ramp up early in order to be ready for some of the good local races that pack the autumn calendar.
So here we are. Other than GMSR, Labor Day weekend was empty of bike races. The Walpole 10k though, that was on Monday. I'd never made it to this race, despite it being just a few towns away, because if I wasn't racing Green Mountain, I'd inevitably waste my legs doing training rides on Saturday and Sunday. But this year, my work gym training partner T-Vo, who has been training hard for an upcoming marathon, coaxed me into considering it. I've only run seven times, for a total of 3.5 hours so far this season (which began with my first run August 19). Still, there was a 5k option, so on Thursday I told Tom I'd be there "unless I totally trashed my legs riding on Saturday and Sunday."
Friday I was telecommuting and thus got in double rides totaling 2.5 hours. I'd run five miles on Thursday, my longest so far this year, and did not feel too bad. In between all this, I tried to line up some group rides for the weekend. My team mates though, how can I put this diplomatically -- they turned out to be a bunch of FUCKING PUSSIES. No offense to all the women and children in the audience, but when the alleged hardmen of the peloton choose to do their big weekend rides with them instead of me, there is something wrong. This left me with no choice but to look to rival teams for support. Saturday I headed up to Dover and rode with a few guys from the evil empire, CCB. This was fairly relaxed, and we stayed local, but I racked up just over eighty miles and four hours, a nice start to the weekend. For Sunday, I'd hoped to put together some sort of challenging adventure ride of epic proportions. Surely this would put my running race plans for Monday in jeopardy, but I had to try. Zencycle offered a ray of hope, but email negotiations with him eventually broke down. Honestly, I felt like Harold trying to get a straight answer out of Kumar. Must be harvest season or something. However, the confusing one did manage to tip me off about a ride his team had planned out in western MA Sunday. One hundred miles including Mt Greylock, the highest point in the commonwealth. As a lifelong resident who has never been up there, this was a no-brainer. Contacted the leader of the bad boys of New England cycling, and it was game on.
The ride assembled in the teeming metropolis of Becket Center. At least the start time was a civilized 9 am, as the drive out was purported by googlemaps to be 2.5 hours. In reality, not quite, but after leaving the Pike in Westfield, I traced the old Westfield Road Race route up route 20, past the most decrepit state police barracks (or public building for that matter) in existence, and up through a bunch of towns I'd never heard of. Arriving at the Becket town hall almost thirty minutes later, I was greeted by no less than seventeen other riders, and also learned the ride would have a support vehicle with food, water, clothing etc! Score.
Bob and George from Cyclonauts were the ride leaders. They are both a few years older than me, but I'd been warned that George was a bit of a climber. Despite wearing a thick coat of facial hair (this guy is a bike racer? doesn't he know the law?), both of these two had lean and chiseled legs, in stark contrast to the Pillsbury Doughmen on my team. There were a bunch of riders who looked like non-racers, but Public Enemy #1 Mike was there with clipons on his bike, and Dougie M was there too, although back on the bike for just his third time after a six week rehab of a broken hip pointer. I always suspected he was a little nuts...
Bob made some announcements and we rolled out at 9 am sharp. I was a little worried about the size and makeup of the group, as keeping it together was going to be tough. We went fast up Route 8 right out of the blocks though. But then we stopped after just 45 minutes. Uh-oh. It was a lengthy delay too, for unknown reasons. I resigned myself to a long day, but it did not turn out so bad. The route wasn't very imaginative, straight up into Dalton and Pittsfield. I guess with such a big group they wanted to keep on roads with wide shoulders. We crossed over to Route 7 and met eight more riders at the base of the Brodie Mountain Road ascent. On the connecting road there was a pretty big climb, and I moved up to Bob's wheel as he gapped the group. His pace was pretty firm, but I was holding on OK. Then I hear a phone ringing, and he pulls his cell out of his back pocket. But he does not slow down. I'm still on his wheel, just below threshold, we're riding away from the group, and he's riding one-handed holding on a conversation. He's in the 55+ age group too. Clearly this is not a Team BOB ride...
After we picked up the others we continued most of the way around the Jiminy Peak race route before heading straight into Williamstown on Route 43, then along a short stretch of Route 2. From there we turned on Lucie Road and began climbing. We took a few turns, all climbing, and me and George separated from the group, hitting the Mt Greylock access road gate alone. Here the climbing began in earnest. I only had a 34x23 on my bike, and not knowing the climb at all, tried to ride a conservative pace. George dropped me right away. Bob had said something at the bottom about there being 3000 feet of climbing to do. I was skeptical, but I set my (uncalibrated) Polar to altitude and it said 650m. Doing some math in my head, I estimated the thing would would be reading at least 1400, and if Bob was correct, 1600 by the time we reached the top. So at least I had some indicator of progress. There were no mileage signs for distance to the summit, and I'd forgot to ask how long the climb was. You might think I'd have done some research, but all I remembered from Doug's blog was that the average grade was not that steep, something like 5%. Well, turns out it's five miles at 8-10% followed by four miles at 2-3%. After riding alone for half an hour in what Reuter calls "hurty land" I rounded a bend and saw in the distance the monument marking the summit. Between me and there the road traversed a saddle at a gentle grade. I even put it in the big ring, but that did not stop Bob from bridging up to me from behind and riding right through me. Now I had two old guys shaming me.
Nearer the top, on a flatter section I jumped in with a group of passing Harleys to catch a nice draft and make a run at Bob. They weren't too happy about it either, especially when the T-intersection stop sign for the summit road caught me by surprise and I had to lock it up and skid between them. From there to the top it was crazy traffic. There were about fifty parasails and hang gliders flying around, and it was standing room only at the park on top. Luckily our support driver found a parking space and she was making sandwiches, filling bottles, and serving cookies. Sweet. The riders trickled in. Norton was fifth man up, all 225 pounds of him, just two riders behind me. Impressive. I knew the stop up there would be long so I had a bite to eat and found a quiet spot to lie down in the sun for a while.
Sure enough we were up there about 40 minutes. Whatever. Before leaving, Bob said we would descend the south road back to Route 7, then retrace our route back to Becket. Unimaginative, but I was psyched because this meant I could hammer and not worry about losing the group. One of the locals started the descent first and I went with him. On the way up I'd heard him telling a story of a horrific crash a few weeks prior putting some dude in the hospital, and not knowing the road, I was a little concerned. At first we were stuck behind some cars and crotch rockets, so it was fine as they'd light up the tailights before the hairpins. But this guy blew by them all on the inside, leaving me with no choice but to follow suit. Then it was WFO for a few miles. I pissed myself a couple of times but then he got stuck behind a few more cars and I caught back up. The cars got spooked by us tailgating and pulled over, and it was back to white knuckling. I'm not the best descender but I kept him in sight. We hit 50 mph a couple of times. There are some pretty tight turns near the bottom too. This guy was in the group of eight that had started from here so he pulled off into the base parking area and I continued alone. Eventually I U-turned and went back up the Summer Road climb to re-integrate with the group.
We cleared Pittsfield, where I nearly got taken out by two bluehairs at an intersection, and then Dalton, beginning the 40k of rollers up Route 8. Becket, where we were parked, sits on the high ground, so this would be a mostly uphill grind. I wanted to get my money's worth out of this ride, so I sat on the front and turned up the power. The group split but about eight of them stayed with me. I was dying on one long rise, but in that case it's sometimes better to stay on the front and keep them behind you rather than drift back and risk someone else upping the pace and shelling you out. After a town line sprint (we're nearly five hours into this now) some of them sat up but I kept the pressure on and only Mike came with me. With just fifteen miles to go it was two-man TTT time. Amazingly, Mike stayed with me on all the rises. On the many gradual pedal downhills, he took the front on his aerobars and I glided along in his massive wake. With about five miles to go I was bonking/cracking and even having trouble staying on Mike's wheel uphill. If it were anyone else I'd have let him go but I'd never live down getting dropped on a climb by a 100 kg sprinter, so I hung on for dear life. We finished exactly 100 miles in 5:30 ride time, 6:30 total time. Not bad considering the terrain.
Remember 5000 words ago when I told T-Vo I'd be at the running race so long as my legs weren't trashed from riding? Well, my legs were T-R-A-S-H-E-D. 180 miles and 7500 feet of climbing in two days will do that. But I'm committed to doing better in the running races this year, right? And I haven't run since Thursday. Need to keep it up. Running on my own at home Monday, not going to happen. I got up early, rolled around on the foam roll, massaged with the stick, felt like death warmed over, but grabbed my running stuff and headed to Walpole High. The 5k option sounded awfully tempting, but I wasn't going to pay $22 just to run three miles. Beyond that, my training plan calls for three runs a week, with a goal of twenty miles/week by the end of September (4 + 6 + 10). That means adding one mile per week to my "long" run, so with five last week, doing a 10k this week was perfect. I even warmed up and cooled down for five minutes each, so now I'm a week ahead with seven miles in. But back to the race.
This event was bigger than I expected. There were hundreds of people there, and a mini-festival going on. The weather was perfect. Almost 400 runners went off on the 5k, then we lined up with around 250 for the 10k. I found Tom at the start. This was going to be strictly a training run for me, as during warmup I could barely move my legs and merely finishing would be a challenge. I lined up way back in order to save me from myself and not go out too fast. Off we went. I did not feel as bad as I did during warmup. There were shitloads of people ahead of me, some way ahead of me. Cool. I know the area but did not know the course. I ride here all the time and it seems flat. You don't notice short hills on the bike. You feel them running though. The first mile was slightly uphill. It was marked, and I crossed in 7:19. This is faster than I've been running in training, but a full 90 seconds slower than I usually run the first mile of a race in. My HR was only 129. Probably depressed from all the riding yesterday, but still good. Maybe I can not fall apart and actually negative split this thing. But I'm doubtful. My only real goal was to not have this be my slowest 10k ever. That would be 48 something.
The second mile was downhill. I was actually passing people. Then the course went up some more. There was a "2" painted on the road but I think this was from a prior version of the course so I discounted this one. The third mile was downhill again, and I passed more people. Downhills used to be my weakness but last year I learned the proper technique. It probably contributed to my foot injury, but it's a hell of a lot easier than going anaerobic trying to make time on the uphills. Mile 3 had an official marker and the spotter called out 20:59 as I passed. Could I hang on? Mile 4 was convoluted with some ups and downs and a tight loop around a residential side street. My split was 7:02 but I'll blame that on the terrain. By now my HR was around 150, so still some breathing room. My legs were OK. The course ran passed the start/finish before turning right and down another hill. With less than two miles to go this meant we'd have some climbing before the end. Mile 5 was marked and I had a 6:41 split. But that was downhill. I could not place where the elevation would be gained back. Running through Walpole center was gradual uphill and I started to empty the tank. Turning back onto the finish road, I could see some cops and spectators up ahead. Is that the school? I buried myself. Oh no. There is one of those short, but nasty hills that you don't notice on the bike between me and the finish. I'm anaerobic now, so this is going to hurt. They even have a mile 6 marker, and my split is 6:43. Nice. Over the crest and into the chute and I actually get in under 43, with an official time of 42:50. My slowest 10k in the past four years, but definitely my best training run so far this year. In the chute the woman ahead of me is greeted by Mary the Ironmatron who had just run the 5k with her eight year old daughter Jordan, who finished well ahead of a lot of much older kids. I said hello. She (Mary) really is tiny in real life. T-Vo was already there, having run sub-forty despite banging out 35 training miles (the running kind) in the past two days. We headed out and did a little cool down and then with the crowds I never did find Mary again. Read her last post before the Walpole one. Sounds like a prime candidate for a Nega-Coach Scholarship.
So what was I thinking? Actually it wasn't so bad. My calves are sore, but I can walk today. Now lots of decisions to be made. Registration for Gloucester and Providence CX opens today, and it may be necessary to sign up now to ensure a spot in either. Next week there are more choices, as well as the weeks after that. There are epic rides planned by some of my associates (but not my team mates...). I'd like to do those. I have to do some more running though. And cyclocross. But there are also a last few more criteriums I'd like to support. Nice problem to have, I guess. More thinking. Thanks for reading.
I'm heavy on conflict the next month or two. Everyone knows that cyclocross season has been shifting earlier, encroaching on the territory of traditional end of season road races. I want to race some cross this year, but I'm not as devoted as most of you, so there's no problem skipping the piddly early races. But now we have some of the biggest and best New England events (which happen to have fast dry courses which suit me) early up in the first two weeks of October. Pretty hard to be competitive at Gloucester if you don't do a few tuneup races beforehand, meaning we're almost forced into racing Septembercross. That sucksmo.
Then there is unfinished business from last year, when my focus was not on cross, but instead split between doing well at the Pinnacle Challenge double duathlon and hunting for PRs in 5k, 5 mile, and 10k running races. This year I'm inclined to skip the Pinnacle, as last year it became evident that my equipment, eyesight, and lack of MTB practice relegated me to hopeless shit-bum status in the critical mountain bike leg, putting me completely out of contention for the overall. None of that has changed this year. Running, on the other hand, or other foot, was going pretty well last year. After nearly PRing at the Lexington 5k though, I was hobbled by a mysterious foot malady that cut my competitive season short. After a few cortisone injections and a ton of snow-and-ice-aided rest time, things returned to normal, but by then it was bike season and I ran only sporadically this spring, completing just one 5-mile race in June before hanging up the shoes for the summer. A few weeks ago I began my fall running campaign with a twenty minute trot around the 'hood. This fall I'd like to resume running for winter training and I hope to ramp up early in order to be ready for some of the good local races that pack the autumn calendar.
So here we are. Other than GMSR, Labor Day weekend was empty of bike races. The Walpole 10k though, that was on Monday. I'd never made it to this race, despite it being just a few towns away, because if I wasn't racing Green Mountain, I'd inevitably waste my legs doing training rides on Saturday and Sunday. But this year, my work gym training partner T-Vo, who has been training hard for an upcoming marathon, coaxed me into considering it. I've only run seven times, for a total of 3.5 hours so far this season (which began with my first run August 19). Still, there was a 5k option, so on Thursday I told Tom I'd be there "unless I totally trashed my legs riding on Saturday and Sunday."
Friday I was telecommuting and thus got in double rides totaling 2.5 hours. I'd run five miles on Thursday, my longest so far this year, and did not feel too bad. In between all this, I tried to line up some group rides for the weekend. My team mates though, how can I put this diplomatically -- they turned out to be a bunch of FUCKING PUSSIES. No offense to all the women and children in the audience, but when the alleged hardmen of the peloton choose to do their big weekend rides with them instead of me, there is something wrong. This left me with no choice but to look to rival teams for support. Saturday I headed up to Dover and rode with a few guys from the evil empire, CCB. This was fairly relaxed, and we stayed local, but I racked up just over eighty miles and four hours, a nice start to the weekend. For Sunday, I'd hoped to put together some sort of challenging adventure ride of epic proportions. Surely this would put my running race plans for Monday in jeopardy, but I had to try. Zencycle offered a ray of hope, but email negotiations with him eventually broke down. Honestly, I felt like Harold trying to get a straight answer out of Kumar. Must be harvest season or something. However, the confusing one did manage to tip me off about a ride his team had planned out in western MA Sunday. One hundred miles including Mt Greylock, the highest point in the commonwealth. As a lifelong resident who has never been up there, this was a no-brainer. Contacted the leader of the bad boys of New England cycling, and it was game on.
The ride assembled in the teeming metropolis of Becket Center. At least the start time was a civilized 9 am, as the drive out was purported by googlemaps to be 2.5 hours. In reality, not quite, but after leaving the Pike in Westfield, I traced the old Westfield Road Race route up route 20, past the most decrepit state police barracks (or public building for that matter) in existence, and up through a bunch of towns I'd never heard of. Arriving at the Becket town hall almost thirty minutes later, I was greeted by no less than seventeen other riders, and also learned the ride would have a support vehicle with food, water, clothing etc! Score.
Bob and George from Cyclonauts were the ride leaders. They are both a few years older than me, but I'd been warned that George was a bit of a climber. Despite wearing a thick coat of facial hair (this guy is a bike racer? doesn't he know the law?), both of these two had lean and chiseled legs, in stark contrast to the Pillsbury Doughmen on my team. There were a bunch of riders who looked like non-racers, but Public Enemy #1 Mike was there with clipons on his bike, and Dougie M was there too, although back on the bike for just his third time after a six week rehab of a broken hip pointer. I always suspected he was a little nuts...
Bob made some announcements and we rolled out at 9 am sharp. I was a little worried about the size and makeup of the group, as keeping it together was going to be tough. We went fast up Route 8 right out of the blocks though. But then we stopped after just 45 minutes. Uh-oh. It was a lengthy delay too, for unknown reasons. I resigned myself to a long day, but it did not turn out so bad. The route wasn't very imaginative, straight up into Dalton and Pittsfield. I guess with such a big group they wanted to keep on roads with wide shoulders. We crossed over to Route 7 and met eight more riders at the base of the Brodie Mountain Road ascent. On the connecting road there was a pretty big climb, and I moved up to Bob's wheel as he gapped the group. His pace was pretty firm, but I was holding on OK. Then I hear a phone ringing, and he pulls his cell out of his back pocket. But he does not slow down. I'm still on his wheel, just below threshold, we're riding away from the group, and he's riding one-handed holding on a conversation. He's in the 55+ age group too. Clearly this is not a Team BOB ride...
After we picked up the others we continued most of the way around the Jiminy Peak race route before heading straight into Williamstown on Route 43, then along a short stretch of Route 2. From there we turned on Lucie Road and began climbing. We took a few turns, all climbing, and me and George separated from the group, hitting the Mt Greylock access road gate alone. Here the climbing began in earnest. I only had a 34x23 on my bike, and not knowing the climb at all, tried to ride a conservative pace. George dropped me right away. Bob had said something at the bottom about there being 3000 feet of climbing to do. I was skeptical, but I set my (uncalibrated) Polar to altitude and it said 650m. Doing some math in my head, I estimated the thing would would be reading at least 1400, and if Bob was correct, 1600 by the time we reached the top. So at least I had some indicator of progress. There were no mileage signs for distance to the summit, and I'd forgot to ask how long the climb was. You might think I'd have done some research, but all I remembered from Doug's blog was that the average grade was not that steep, something like 5%. Well, turns out it's five miles at 8-10% followed by four miles at 2-3%. After riding alone for half an hour in what Reuter calls "hurty land" I rounded a bend and saw in the distance the monument marking the summit. Between me and there the road traversed a saddle at a gentle grade. I even put it in the big ring, but that did not stop Bob from bridging up to me from behind and riding right through me. Now I had two old guys shaming me.
Nearer the top, on a flatter section I jumped in with a group of passing Harleys to catch a nice draft and make a run at Bob. They weren't too happy about it either, especially when the T-intersection stop sign for the summit road caught me by surprise and I had to lock it up and skid between them. From there to the top it was crazy traffic. There were about fifty parasails and hang gliders flying around, and it was standing room only at the park on top. Luckily our support driver found a parking space and she was making sandwiches, filling bottles, and serving cookies. Sweet. The riders trickled in. Norton was fifth man up, all 225 pounds of him, just two riders behind me. Impressive. I knew the stop up there would be long so I had a bite to eat and found a quiet spot to lie down in the sun for a while.
Sure enough we were up there about 40 minutes. Whatever. Before leaving, Bob said we would descend the south road back to Route 7, then retrace our route back to Becket. Unimaginative, but I was psyched because this meant I could hammer and not worry about losing the group. One of the locals started the descent first and I went with him. On the way up I'd heard him telling a story of a horrific crash a few weeks prior putting some dude in the hospital, and not knowing the road, I was a little concerned. At first we were stuck behind some cars and crotch rockets, so it was fine as they'd light up the tailights before the hairpins. But this guy blew by them all on the inside, leaving me with no choice but to follow suit. Then it was WFO for a few miles. I pissed myself a couple of times but then he got stuck behind a few more cars and I caught back up. The cars got spooked by us tailgating and pulled over, and it was back to white knuckling. I'm not the best descender but I kept him in sight. We hit 50 mph a couple of times. There are some pretty tight turns near the bottom too. This guy was in the group of eight that had started from here so he pulled off into the base parking area and I continued alone. Eventually I U-turned and went back up the Summer Road climb to re-integrate with the group.
We cleared Pittsfield, where I nearly got taken out by two bluehairs at an intersection, and then Dalton, beginning the 40k of rollers up Route 8. Becket, where we were parked, sits on the high ground, so this would be a mostly uphill grind. I wanted to get my money's worth out of this ride, so I sat on the front and turned up the power. The group split but about eight of them stayed with me. I was dying on one long rise, but in that case it's sometimes better to stay on the front and keep them behind you rather than drift back and risk someone else upping the pace and shelling you out. After a town line sprint (we're nearly five hours into this now) some of them sat up but I kept the pressure on and only Mike came with me. With just fifteen miles to go it was two-man TTT time. Amazingly, Mike stayed with me on all the rises. On the many gradual pedal downhills, he took the front on his aerobars and I glided along in his massive wake. With about five miles to go I was bonking/cracking and even having trouble staying on Mike's wheel uphill. If it were anyone else I'd have let him go but I'd never live down getting dropped on a climb by a 100 kg sprinter, so I hung on for dear life. We finished exactly 100 miles in 5:30 ride time, 6:30 total time. Not bad considering the terrain.
Remember 5000 words ago when I told T-Vo I'd be at the running race so long as my legs weren't trashed from riding? Well, my legs were T-R-A-S-H-E-D. 180 miles and 7500 feet of climbing in two days will do that. But I'm committed to doing better in the running races this year, right? And I haven't run since Thursday. Need to keep it up. Running on my own at home Monday, not going to happen. I got up early, rolled around on the foam roll, massaged with the stick, felt like death warmed over, but grabbed my running stuff and headed to Walpole High. The 5k option sounded awfully tempting, but I wasn't going to pay $22 just to run three miles. Beyond that, my training plan calls for three runs a week, with a goal of twenty miles/week by the end of September (4 + 6 + 10). That means adding one mile per week to my "long" run, so with five last week, doing a 10k this week was perfect. I even warmed up and cooled down for five minutes each, so now I'm a week ahead with seven miles in. But back to the race.
This event was bigger than I expected. There were hundreds of people there, and a mini-festival going on. The weather was perfect. Almost 400 runners went off on the 5k, then we lined up with around 250 for the 10k. I found Tom at the start. This was going to be strictly a training run for me, as during warmup I could barely move my legs and merely finishing would be a challenge. I lined up way back in order to save me from myself and not go out too fast. Off we went. I did not feel as bad as I did during warmup. There were shitloads of people ahead of me, some way ahead of me. Cool. I know the area but did not know the course. I ride here all the time and it seems flat. You don't notice short hills on the bike. You feel them running though. The first mile was slightly uphill. It was marked, and I crossed in 7:19. This is faster than I've been running in training, but a full 90 seconds slower than I usually run the first mile of a race in. My HR was only 129. Probably depressed from all the riding yesterday, but still good. Maybe I can not fall apart and actually negative split this thing. But I'm doubtful. My only real goal was to not have this be my slowest 10k ever. That would be 48 something.
The second mile was downhill. I was actually passing people. Then the course went up some more. There was a "2" painted on the road but I think this was from a prior version of the course so I discounted this one. The third mile was downhill again, and I passed more people. Downhills used to be my weakness but last year I learned the proper technique. It probably contributed to my foot injury, but it's a hell of a lot easier than going anaerobic trying to make time on the uphills. Mile 3 had an official marker and the spotter called out 20:59 as I passed. Could I hang on? Mile 4 was convoluted with some ups and downs and a tight loop around a residential side street. My split was 7:02 but I'll blame that on the terrain. By now my HR was around 150, so still some breathing room. My legs were OK. The course ran passed the start/finish before turning right and down another hill. With less than two miles to go this meant we'd have some climbing before the end. Mile 5 was marked and I had a 6:41 split. But that was downhill. I could not place where the elevation would be gained back. Running through Walpole center was gradual uphill and I started to empty the tank. Turning back onto the finish road, I could see some cops and spectators up ahead. Is that the school? I buried myself. Oh no. There is one of those short, but nasty hills that you don't notice on the bike between me and the finish. I'm anaerobic now, so this is going to hurt. They even have a mile 6 marker, and my split is 6:43. Nice. Over the crest and into the chute and I actually get in under 43, with an official time of 42:50. My slowest 10k in the past four years, but definitely my best training run so far this year. In the chute the woman ahead of me is greeted by Mary the Ironmatron who had just run the 5k with her eight year old daughter Jordan, who finished well ahead of a lot of much older kids. I said hello. She (Mary) really is tiny in real life. T-Vo was already there, having run sub-forty despite banging out 35 training miles (the running kind) in the past two days. We headed out and did a little cool down and then with the crowds I never did find Mary again. Read her last post before the Walpole one. Sounds like a prime candidate for a Nega-Coach Scholarship.
So what was I thinking? Actually it wasn't so bad. My calves are sore, but I can walk today. Now lots of decisions to be made. Registration for Gloucester and Providence CX opens today, and it may be necessary to sign up now to ensure a spot in either. Next week there are more choices, as well as the weeks after that. There are epic rides planned by some of my associates (but not my team mates...). I'd like to do those. I have to do some more running though. And cyclocross. But there are also a last few more criteriums I'd like to support. Nice problem to have, I guess. More thinking. Thanks for reading.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Tech Feature
The cycling accessory of the year has to go to the Nashbar Joe to Go Handlebar Cupholder. I've been bumming out because it's time to start using the cyclocross bike to actually ride cyclocross, which means removing the bottle cages to facilitate shouldering the bike. But how to carry refreshments on training rides? Problem solved, and no more SUV cupholder envy. I'm baffled why it doesn't come in 31.8? How long before one of these shows up on BSNYC? (if it hasn't already).
OK, it's not all BS here today. More vintage racing stuff for the tifosi. This time though, we dig not into my archives, but into the way, way back machine of the world-wide interweb. We begin afar, in Merry Olde England, with this gold mine of old track, road, and cx pics from an old racer on flickr. Very nice. Next up, moving much closer to home, an expose from the local paper in nearby Walpole Ma, featuring a 1975 criterium. This historic document details a young Dale Stetina winning the open race, and the man himself, Dick Ring taking victory in the veterans aka masters. Thanks to Rick Hardy of the BRC for sending this along to me.
Last but certainly not least, those of you who read the comments know that news of Bob Beal's passing reached us last week. Bob was a team mate of ours on the Bicycle Link team years ago, a longtime trustee with the USCF, and a generous patron of the sport of cycling. Bob raced even after receiving a pacemaker, and was fixture at the races for as long as his health allowed. He even did some cyclocross while in his seventies. Bob is survived by his wonderful wife Helen, who for many years ran registration at Wompatuck. My condolences go out to her and his family. Thanks for reading.
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