Pedaling Squares

The Kids are Alright: the future of US Cyclocross 2

2012-01-14T06:13:00.000-08:00

Last week I wrote about the US Junior men. I thought they were going to be the highlight of nationals. I was wrong. The highlight of cyclocross nationals were the U23 champions. Zach McDonald and Katie Antonneau may have the brightest futures of anyone racing cyclocross in America.

Don't get me wrong, I loved seeing Jeremy Powers in tears coming across the finish line for his first national championship. Katie Compton once again showed her brilliance. Dylan McNicholas was riding phenomenally well. But Zach and Katie exceeded even the high expectations they had for themselves.

Zach dominated the U23 race on Saturday. He took the race wire to wire. Unlike last year when he was leading Danny Summerhill until a crash with a spectator, there was no error. He won with a 2:20 minute margin to second place. His really impressive ride was in elite race on Sunday. After taking the hole shot Zach crashed through the course tape. A mechanical and long bike exchange put him 40 seconds behind the leaders. The front four favorites were not waiting for anyone as they sped through the course. Yet by 3 to go Zach managed to bridge up to the group and play a critical role in Jeremy Powers win while holding onto fourth place. Zach showed the technical skill, strength, and poise to race with the best American champions.

Katie has a similar race in winning the collegiate championship as Zach's U23 race. The only other racer within 3 minutes of her was college team mate and room mate Coryn Rivera. In the elite race on Sunday is also where Katie truly shone. Her second place behind Compton reveal Katie to be the smart, strong, dedicated racer that her coach has indicated.

The question that remains is how will these two young racers perform in international competition? This year they have both had some strong results in Europe: Zach getting 3rd in the U23 race at Zolder and Katie getting 10th at the Namur World Cup. The next two world cups will reveal how much form they have left at the end of a demanding season.

On paper neither should do well at the World Championships in Koksijde. The sand dunes in Koksijde are typically conquered by big power riders. However, Daphny Van den Brand has done very well there in the past few years, perhaps showing that a rider like Katie might as well. Zach has stated that he is learned to love the sand, and is targeting a top ten result. With some luck perhaps they can both get top tens at worlds. Regardless, if they continue to develop, they will be at the front of US cyclocross for years to come.

Cyclocross, the Sport of the Future

2012-01-03T19:19:00.000-08:00

Much has been said of late about American Cyclocross peaking, or declining, or being killed. I could not disagree more. Never mind that American pro's are doing better than ever. Never mind that the best pro/elite racing for women is in the United States. Never mind that our best u23 riders are competing at world cups for podiums. Never mind that there are more people racing cyclocross across the country than ever before. The future of US cyclocross is stronger than ever because of the talent of our juniors. Yes, our juniors are the sign of the strength of American cyclocross.

Consider this before nationals: as I look at the race predictor rankings for the various categories, the most competitive event of the week is the Mens Juniors 17-18 race. Each of the predicted top ten have a legitimate shot of winning. 8 of the top 10 have been racing in Europe during Christmas week at Geoff Proctor's 'Cross Camp. 5 of them achieved top 20 results while racing in Belgium.
Remember these names; Logan Owen, Curtis White, Andrew Dillmen, Sam O'Keefe, Nate Morse, Chase Dickens, Tobin Ortenblad, Cyprus Gorey. They are the future of American Cyclocross.

Will they all become Pros? Who knows. Some of them may go the way of Jesse Anthony or Danny Summerhill or Gavin Mannion and decide that road racing is more attractive. Then again, those guys may be like Tim Johnson and eventually come back to cyclocross. Some may even leave the sport entirely. But even if half of them go the way of Jonathan Page and Jeremy Powers and Ryan Trebon, then the future of American cyclocross is bright. All of these kids have already been across the pond. They've seen how the game is played at its highest level. They've had a glimpse of how the top Pro's race on the toughest courses.

Oh, and besides those boys, there are a dozen 15-16 year olds coming behind them. I haven't even mentioned the junior women yet, or Katie Antonneau. And who knows how big Bruce Fina, Joan Hanscom, Adam Myerson, & Paul Boudreau can make US Pro Cyclocross races. But I am excited to see it.

American Cyclocross: the Sport of the Future.

"It's Just Stupid Bike Racing...."

2011-12-16T09:05:00.000-08:00

Why do I do it? Why do hundreds of others do it too? We spend hundreds of hours training, thousands of miles traveling, and thousands of dollars on equipment each year to race bikes. My level of talent is so mediocre & my number of podium results so few that the question may seem very relevant; as if one would be delusional to pursue a sport with such a meager pay back.

This week I read three articles by bike racers about their perspective on their own racing. Two of them by people I know, Justine Lindine & Bill Strickland, one by a guy I can sympathize with. All three were worth reading as reflections on the personal madness that is amateur bike racing. Two also quote Adam Myerson in his interview after Sterling CX this year, "Its just stupid bike racing, but it means everything."

In truth its much easier to be a cyclist than a bike racer. I live in a place where great cycling abounds. I ride every week in the summer with dozens of good cyclists. Most of these cyclists don't race any more, or never did. So they don't train systematically, they don't diet, they don't fixate on their performance limiters, they don't strategize to find their opportunities for victory. They just ride; sometimes easy, sometimes hard, sometimes more miles than I do. And that's great for them, truly, but its not racing.

Racing is different. Racing requires a focus, discipline, perhaps even fixation most cycling does not. Each week and each day of a racers season is shaped by activities that drive toward the next race. Whether it is sleep or nutrition or training or recovery, some part of the day is devoted to preparing to race. The bike racers life becomes a lifestyle with a central goal of peak personal performance. This may be a healthy obsession, but it is still an obsession.

Every year I notice that a few people, who used to race with me, drop out of the sport. They just stop showing up. Perhaps they get injured, perhaps they get frustrated with their results, perhaps life gets in the way of training, perhaps they loose the passion. Yet without racing, there is no reason to pursue the lifestyle, and there in no lessons to be learned about ones own discipline, or toughness, or focus, or strength, or humility, or capacity for improvement. These lessons are the pay off for the sacrifices that a bike racer's lifestyle demands. If I do not race, I will not wring out of myself all that I have within me, physically & emotionally; if only to see exactly what I am at my core.

Bike races are not like life, they are life. Most times a stupid bike race is the most concentrated, distilled, intense part of my life. Bike racing draws from me a passion and discipline that I hope I will infuse into the rest of my life. That is for me its great worth.
"It's just stupid bike racing, but it means everything".

The Way of the Cyclocross: A CX racers week in season

2011-12-02T09:11:00.000-08:00

When road racers say that they "live like monks" they mean depriving themselves of wine, partying, or other pleasures. Cyclocross racers truly live like monks; they drink beer, brutally scourge themselves, and follow an order to their week similar to an abbot's rule of life. Each week during the season has the same pattern of days. Each action leads to the next race and back again.

Monday: Bike repair and cleaning. What damage have you done to your machines this weekend? Do you need to finish getting the mud off of everything? Are some parts in need of replacement? Did you flat a tire? Does your skinsuit still have dirt stains on it? Better get to scrubbing between searching the internet for pictures of yourself from last weekend.

Tuesday: Confession, where did I fall last weekend? If I raced both days on the weekend, I'm probably not ready for hard efforts yet. My body likely needs some more rest. I might even groan just getting on the bike. Extra stretching in the morning, or better yet, a massage is a nice cure for the lingering aches. Mind repair requires banishing the demons of doubt, so drilling the skills that were weak on the weekend. Whatever elements gave me the most difficulty during the last races are the skills to practice on Tuesday.

Wednesday: Penance, the flesh is weak. This is the day for atonement. This is the time for self flagellation. No other way to get stronger but to do intervals. My lungs burn, my legs ache, my eyeballs scream by the end of the ride if I am doing it right. The only chance to get faster is to push myself harder in training than I did in my prior races.

Thursday: Preparation, better too early than too late. I know that Friday will be a crammed day between work, life, and a race prep ride. Rather than go nuts trying to get everything done on Friday, I find it easier to begin packing for the weekend on Thursday night. Since I typically only do a short ride, I have an extra hour to put together my clothing & basic gear for the race weekend ahead. I can also do another check of the bikes so any last minute repairs can be done on Friday.

Friday: Am I ready? Since my race start is usually before noon, and since I frequently drive 2 hours to the venue, all my preparation must be done by 7 p.m. on Friday. By that time I need to be eating dinner so I can get to bed by 9. The worst day to deprive yourself of sleep is the day before a race. If I line up my day just right I can get a good prep ride done at noon, pack the car after work, then make dinner & relax. If not, I spend hours after dinner stressing out over all the things to be packed up before dawn.

Saturday-Sunday: Race day. Everything goes by routine if I've lined myself up right. Arrive, put together bikes, ride the course, register, hot laps, dress, final warm up, staging, RACE!, cool down, pack up.

Rinse, rest, repeat.

Sunday Night: Recovery. If I've raced to my limit, this is couch time, since I have nothing left. Maybe I can put together a blog post, or an email. Maybe I'll just go to bed. Hopefully I'm satisfied with the effort I've made. If not, there's always next week.

Providence CX Festival: A Hellish End to NECX Holy Week.

2011-10-11T20:18:00.000-07:00

The Providence Cyclocross Festival was an inferno. Temperatures in the 80's both days and fast racing made the course seem like the devil's playpen. The lessons of this weekend were as old as Old Nick too.

I offer them in pictures:

1) Cyclocross is Hot

photo by Robin McDonald-Foley

2) Cyclocross is Cool

photo by Matt Roy

3) Cyclocross is Rad!

photo by Todd Prekaski

4) Cyclocross is the most fun I have racing bikes.

(even when I'm not racing well)

photo by Leslie Cohen

The crowds were large, either for the racing or for the VeloSwap. The cheering was loud. The beer was abundant. The heckling was creative. The food trucks were awesome. The venue was great. We enjoyed a concert Saturday night at the course side ampitheater.
It was a spectacular finale for NECX Holy Week.

As Pastor Myerson would say, "cyclocross week has concluded, let us go in peace."

Gloucester Grand Prix: the more things stay the same, the more they change

2011-10-06T20:23:00.000-07:00

The Grand Prix of Gloucester is the jewel of New England Cyclocross races. Biggest race, stiffest competition, most anticipation.

Yet for the important of the race, the course is surprisingly simple. There is a long up hill start-finish pavement, sweeping grass turns, one hillside to play on, a windy straight by the harbor, and the sand pit. All good elements, but limited in number and scope.

Or so one could think. The course designer for almost every Gloucester GP has been Tom Stevens. Someone this week deemed him the Christo of cyclocross courses. But I think of him more as a Mozart. He takes the same basic elements almost any park might have and combines them in new inventive ways; even on at a venue that's been raced at dozens of times.

Two years ago he added the quad busting run up off the sea wall. Now its seems that it has always been part of Gloucester. We were forewarned that he had new elements in mind for this year. But I had no idea how devilish and beautiful they could be.

Day One brought a FLYOVER to Gloucester! Before last year no New England cyclocross courses had a flyover. Most of our courses are large enough and steep enough not to need one, but they are just so Euro cool. Fortunately Gary David comissioned Ron Gougen to build one for MRC CX last season. Then Ice Weasels and the NE Regionals courses put it up too. But I never imagined that Tom would set it up for a thousand racers to careen over it at Gloucester.

Day Two was even more special. For years Paul Boudreau has dreamed of adding a special bit of terrain to the course, Half Moon Beach. For all the years I've race at Fort Stage Park, I did not know this beach even existed. On this past Sunday the course ran down a paved boat ramp to a natural deep sand beach with a stair case at the other end. The stairs lead up the famous Gloucester rock. It was picture perfect, and challenging. Even the tide had to be held at bay to allow the elites to race this section late in the afternoon The trick to Half Moon Beach was to ride as far onto the sand as speed would allow, then gracefully dismount to the base of the stairs. This was much easier to write than to do. Even several of the elites sprawled out on the beach. I hope that we get to visit this section again.

Whether we do or not, I'm certain that the course will offer up new challenges, just like it always does.

Holy Week-Hell Week in NECX: the feast of Michaelmas

2011-10-04T20:08:00.000-07:00

Midnight Ride of CX, Grand Prix of Gloucester, Night Weasels, Providence CX Festival.

6 races in 11 days. Some have called this New England cyclocross Holy Week, others have deemed it Hell Week. Certainly many of us will be praying for strength or mercy, since indeed it is both.

This week also marks Michaelmas; the feast of Saint Michael. The current date of St. Michael's Day is on September 29th, the day after the Midnight Ride. The ancient date for Michaelmas is October 10th, the day after Providence Cyclocross Fest ends. NECX Holy-Hell Week spans the feast of St. Michael.

St. Michael is the Arch Angel, the divine avenger. It was St. Michael who drove Satan out of heaven after the rebellion. In legend, the Arch Angel and Satan fought a war ending in Satan's defeat and descent to hell. The feast of Saint Michael commemorates the victory.

The races this week have several religous features. Racing at Gloucester is like a pilgrimage for cyclocross devotees. Many of us will battle our own demons during these races. This week ends in the city named Providence, on a course around a shrine.

But I have something to add to the myth. In medieval legend, Satan clutched at the Arch Angel's wings trying to hold onto to a place in heaven. Eventually Michael wrestled him away. Satan then fell and landed in a blackberry thicket. I imagine that Satan grasped at anything he could in his struggle, even a bicycle, meant for mortals, hidden under the Arch Angel's wings. Perhaps he held onto to that divine machine in his fall. Yet Satan was so disgusted with his outcast state when he landed in the thicket, that he threw the bicycle into the thorns. Satan then sneered, and dared foolish humans to race that machine through the blackberry thicket in the bleak cold of autumn. Cyclocross was then born out of that divine bicycle and that demonic challenge.

Every year, the bicycles become more heavenly, and the courses become more hellish.

So pray for us this week, lend us strength and mercy, we the disciples of cyclocross.

through the Muck: Nor'Easter CX report

2011-09-27T12:06:00.000-07:00

photo by pedalpower photography

Cyclocross is defined by mud. In Europe, a "true 'cross" race is one where the racers finish covered from nose to toes in dirt. But like Eskimo's describing snow, cyclocross racers know the wide variety of mud types. Mud can be wet, caulky, firm, loose, sticky, gloppy, gritty, deep, thin, or heavy. Nor'Easter Fest Cyclocross had lots of mud, and lots of types of mud as well. So much mud I threw my socks away after the race rather than try to wash them.

I did not plan for a full mud course on Saturday. The weather forecast only called for a 20% chance of showers. But Vermont has been soaked all year, flooded by once in a century storms. The ground was as wet as a bowl of stew with a thin layer of grass clippings on top. The morning's light rain made it a certainity that the course would be full on muck. Some places had soupy puddles, the ride up was sandy cement type mud, the back stretch was gloppy off camber crud, and the barriers were in ankle deep muck.

I was excited for this race. The masters field was small. I figured that a race of attrition would mean that I could grind my way to a few Verge points. All I had to do was keep pedaling and get one set of bike changes, and let the less committed drop out. The course was not tricky, just slick in spots, heavy in almost all the rest. The turns were slow due to the deep peanut butter mud in the low fields. The only section I could get some speed going was the start-finish stretch.

Off the start I had good position in the middle of the field. I then slid off course on the first slimey descent. Crap! mistake #1. I ran past a couple of guys on the first beach section. I then slogged away around a couple of others to get up to Jerry's wheel by the top of the second slick descent, "the chute". This was mistake #2. Jerry then turned on his magnetic death ray, the one he has reserved for me. The guy infront of him flopped at the bottom of the chute, taking out Jerry. As I almost cleared him to the right, he spun around, taking out my front wheel. I body surfed into the pool of walnut brown muck. Chain off the bike and guys streaming past, I was now near last. I wished I had just trotted down that slippery chute like Bart Wellens would, or like Helen Wyman did later in the day.

photo by pedalpower photography

It took me a lap to get myself going race speed again. I did not help myself by tangling in the course tape 3 times trying to find dry(ish) track to ride. We only had 3 more laps to race at that point. Then I remembered that cyclocross includes running! And I run pretty well for a bike racer. In fact, I've been running twice a week for the past month. So for the next two laps anywhere the mud got deep enough to grind away in the smallest gears, I got off and ran. Then I started catching and passing guys in the deep mud. Running I picked off 5 guys, going from almost last to not almost last, but no better. I missed Verge points by two spots. I only wish I had stayed out of the course tape and on my feet earlier.

So the next time I race a "true 'cross", I'll run down the slick descents ala Bart Wellens, and run through the thick mud rather than grind away. In the meantime, I'll do my Mo Bruno-Roy signature wind sprints.

Cyclocross: you best be willing to get your toes dirty.

Into the Fog: the start of a new Cyclocross Season

2011-09-22T19:15:00.000-07:00

New England is a region marked by its distinctive seasons. The transition from summer to autumn is apparent to me in the morning. Rather than the bright morning dew of August, after Labor Day the early hours are often covered by fog, even when the rest of the day is sunny. Each day as I drove to the race this weekend, a thick layer of mist hung over the fields and road.

Mentally I was just as clouded as the fog draped hills. The start of any race season brings some doubts: Have I trained enough? Are the fast guys still fast? Have my rivals gotten faster? Who has moved into my race category? I had more doubts than usual due to my limited racing this summer. To compound those concerns, I also had the first of the school year family head cold. I was so congested I could barely talk, much less race.

Saturday I took a slow wheezing preview lap, then another. I went to the trainer for forms sake. Just getting up to tempo effort was a chore. I thought that finishing a single lap in the race would be a minor miracle. But being the stuborn idiot I am, I lined up anyway.

And then a minor miracle did happen, I managed to avoid the first lap crash at 500m off the line. I slotted into the back of the bunch and just kept pedaling. By the end of the first lap I was catching guys. By the end of the second lap I was passing guys. Frank McCormack bolted past me going up the long hill. I thought about following his wheel, but realized I would collapse doing so. I just kept pedaling anyway. With two to go I was battling with Nat McHugh and a Quad Cycles racer. The Quad racer gapped me on the back side of the course and Nate came around to chase. Coming into the long hill climb on the last lap I attacked Nate and pressed hard. I managed to put in enough distance to keep him off my wheel the rest of the lap. I did not gain enough ground on the Quad racer to make a sprint at the line.

So I finished, and even equalled my Race Predictor position. It wasn't pretty, but it was a result.

Sunday, I made the silly mistake of expecting a better race result. Instead with two laps to go, and in position to make a run on Verge Points, I endo'd on the gravel fill. A twisted shifter, chain wrapped around the crankarm, and a cocked seat made certain that I would have a long slow ride to the pit. That put me 30 seconds behind GeWillickers. I rode an unenthusiastic last lap, and managed to come across 10 seconds before getting lapped. At least I had the legs to race two days in a row despite a raging head cold, so there's that.

The fog of race doubt is starting to lift.

Pats Peak Smack Down: bogged, flogged, and flatted.

2011-07-11T12:28:00.000-07:00

Having achieved a little success the prior Sunday, I had some hope for a good result at Pats Peak. That was my first mistake, expectations. I watched the weather all week, as always. I anticipated that the course would be muddy. I knew the single track could be slippery. I figured the race would be a long steady slog. But expecting a heavy course and excelling on it are two different things.

The Pats Peak XC race was my 4th time riding my mountain bike this year, Yes, 4th time, All year. My sprained wrist has kept me entirely off the mtb bike until a week ago. So my single track skills, which are never great, are pretty rusty this season. No worries, its just going to be a race of attrition, and I'll just plan to run a bunch. I run pretty well with a bike. So it'll be fine, right?

I lined up on the front row to try and defend my podium finish last year. I told myself not to take the hole shot, but just follow wheels for the first half lap. Letting the hole shot was no problem. Even getting a solid clip in the best I managed was 4th wheel heading past the tech zone. Into the woods I felt pretty solid. Then on the first slippery exit the rider ahead of me biffed and I came off. I remounted and slotted in three more spots down. In the next single track section, the same thing happened. Only now I am at the back of a line of a dozen riders and feeling angry. I was not happy to be tail gunning a muddy xc race. For the rest of the lap I lost my cool. I ran around guys every time it got slippery. I burned up extra energy chasing up the hill. I managed to work my way up to 5th spot or so by the middle of the 2nd lap. But I just about used all my mental energy to do it.

And then the wheels came off. The single track on the far side of the course was slippery after 24 hours of rain. I managed to slip off rock wall crossings twice. Each time I jammed my sprained wrist and howled in pain. I only lost one spot, but felt less than confident about racing hard the rest of the course. I should not have worried. Just as I was about to start the fast dry-ish descent to the finish my front wheel popped. I had torn a hole in the side wall on a small rock. I tried to air it up and get the sealant to hold. No luck. The valve stem was stuck in the rim as well. So I started running, I mean how many spots could I loose in a 1.5 miles to the finish? The answer is 7. Yes, 7 guys cruised past me while I was hoofing it to the line. I finished, one off of DFL, but I finished.

So the leasons are, 1) don't race injured if you have a choice. I'm sure I set the healing of my wrist back three weeks. 2) don't race angry and waste energy. 3) don't race slippery singletrack when you haven't been riding any single track. There is always another race, another day.

The Joy of a Dirt Crit: Big Ring Rumpus Report;

2011-06-14T17:37:00.000-07:00

Some guys complain about boring race courses. When its a cyclocross or mountain bike race they decry the parcours as a "dirt crit". The truth is that if you have time to enjoy the landscape, you may as well put on a pair of khaki cargo shorts and load the panniers, because you're touring, not racing. Steeper, twistier, or longer courses may favor some athletes. But true racers will fling themselves around the same flat 1km paved square for hours and find thrills. It is the competition, the strategies, the attacks, that make an event exciting;

The racers make the race.

The Big Ring Rumpus is unique on the north east circuit since it has no single track and no hills. If any race deserves to be called a "dirt crit", this one does. The course is a 4 mile, hard pack, 12 corner, double track speed fest. The only thing to slow anyone down is the loose 90 degree corners. It is the only mountain bike race where I've been tempted to bolt on aero extensions. The Rumpus means that drafting and sprint tactics win. It was a perfect race for me to test my post-crash form.

My strategy was to stay in front four and cover moves until 2 to go, then see if I had legs to make an attack. 18 guys started in the Sport Vet II field. My thinking was that the start might be like the photo above, so I slotted into the front row and got a good clip in off the whistle. I tucked in at second wheel for the first lap. The group cruised the course at a moderately high speed. At the start of lap two I punched up the pace for a few minutes before letting a couple of guys come around. We quickly settled into a tempo pace around the trtack. No one attacked hard, so we kept trading long pulls amongst 4 guys. 3 others rode dangling at the back of our bunch. I was not sure if anyone had legs to go hard, or if they were saving themselves for a final lap sprint. Everyone seemed to be riding near their limit, but sometimes its difficult to tell in the race. I kept myself in the front of the bunch in case someone attacked. I felt like I could go faster, but wanted to avoid cooking myself before the finish.

With two laps to go it was time to see if anyone had legs. I made a 90% effort attack up a little rise. I was able to get a sizable gap very quickly. I rode hard tempo for a few minutes to see if anyone would chase. After 3 minutes or so, a group of three was closing in. I latched on to the back and the pace slowed immediately. By the end of the lap, the group was back up to seven guys. No gain in reducing the bunch.

On the bell lap I worked to secure second wheel for the front half of the course. I waited to attack coming out of a big loose corner about 1km before the finish loop. I punched up a little speed bump and cranked the tempo. Just as the last corner was almost in sight, a White Mtn Velo racer edged past me, chugging like a freight train. I chased for his wheel, but could not get back around him before the finish line. 2nd place 2nd year in a row. The guy who won took no pulls until he chased down my attack. He played his cards very close to the vest, and very well. Perhaps I should have done the same, or attacked harder, or gone earlier, or ect. ect. ect.

I raced my plan and lost by a bike length. I was happy to have a nice fast race to test myself. We averaged just under 18 mph in 24 miles on mountain bikes! The elite field did a couple of 20 mph average laps. For the speed on dirt alone this race is a blast. The other reason is the turnout; between Chip Baker, the Rowells, Libby White, Mark Soups, Jack Chapman promoting, the Cambridge Bikes/ Boloco kids, JONNY BOLD & Wilichoski at the front of the elites, plus a cyclocross open division, it was a nice NECX reunion.
A reminder of the fun that awaits us in the fall.

Racers do make the race.

Krank the Kanc. I signed up for what?

2011-06-07T09:12:00.000-07:00

It is no revelation that I am not a pure climber. In fact, I climb like a bowling ball, I climb like a box turtle, I climb like a narcoleptic hippopotamus. To be fair, I can climb hills on the bike, its just not pretty, or quick. But I have a bunch of team mates that really wanted to do Krank the Kanc. When the individual divisions filled in seconds, I signed up to do the 3 person team time trial. I just hoped that I would not be a ridiculous drag on my team's time.

The course itself is not a pure climb. The first 17 miles of the 21 mile course is a slight grade to actually flat. The race breaks down into 3 parts: the first 9 miles at a 2-3 grade is a big ring climb, the second part is the flat/downhill 7.5 miles, and then part three, the climb, 4.5 miles at 7%. Our game plan was to be as aero as possible for the first two sections. One of our team, Joe, rode his full TT bike. Dana was on a Cervelo Soloist w/ Zipp 404's. We all ran aero extensions. I debated about using aero wheels (Hed 3's), climbing wheels (Dura Ace 24's) or something in between (Bontrager Carbon Aero's). The trade off between wheels being either fast on the flat or light for the climb. The plan was to do 2-3 minute pulls at threshold to maximize our speed on the first 2 parts of the course, then pace each other on the climb. I figured I might need a push or two.

Our course preview training convinced me that I would need the climbing wheels. Coming off three hard falls in two weeks, I just didn't have alot of power. I was barely able to do my pulls on the flat sections. On the hill, I was at only 80% of my typical slow climbing. So I only glued up the Dura Ace wheels, and hope I would do better on race day. Thankfully, we worked the pace line well on the flat sections, so I might get some recovery before the hill.

Race day I felt fresh. I had a good session of hill climbing the Wednesday before. My warm up was a little short, but adequate for an hour+ long time trial. Unfortunately, one of our team had a head cold. We held the tempo down a notch in the middle section of the race per his request. We pacelined together well, so we were still working our plan. Still, we started the climb a couple minutes behind our target time. We worked the climb at his pace. I felt like I could give a little more until the last km, then my calves cramped. I spun for a few seconds and pushed for the finish. We finished together, sprinting for the line.

We had caught both of the teams that started before us, but 12 teams started after us. So we got to sit at the top of the Kanc, munch on pretzels, and wait for the others to finish. (But no water?!? who puts out food at the end of bike race but no water?) We managed a 1:12:30, 3 minutes slower that we hoped, but a solid time. In the end it was good enough for 2nd place. We also won the intra-squad contest for bragging rights by besting the other Team Alpine Clinic three-some.

We might have raced faster on the flat section, but we gave it what we could on the day. Dana and Joe are eager to see if we can do better next year. Perhaps more aero wheels would help our speed in the flats. And now my mates are eager to do Crank the Crawford as a team.

What have I gotten myself into?

Touching the Floor, but making it home

2011-05-10T20:56:00.000-07:00

This April was the cruelest month of cycling I've endured. Not because of hard training or heaps of mental abuse, but from hitting the tarmac; touching the floor. I had gone the last two years without a spill, but in the past two and half weeks I found myself on the pavement three times. The last incident was the most ugly. I was leading the pace line on our Wednesday night group ride when a dog dashed straight into my front wheel. No time to touch the brakes or for anyone to call it out, I flew over the bars to be run over by the guy on my wheel. Fortunately the only thing broken was my bike. In fact I've come out of these incidents with lots of scrapes, bruised ribs, and sprained wrists, but nothing worse. I am fortunate that my injuries are fairly minor.

Yesterday I was reminded of how costly one incident on the bike can be. Every cyclist I know is indescribably sad about Wouter Weylandt's death in the Giro. It was one missed pedal stroke that apparently flung him to the ground. A backward glance, the wrong veer at high speed, and he launched out of control. All of us who have pushed the pace know how easy it could be to loose control. Whether we are cascading down a mountain pass, or pounding a sprint elbow to elbow, or merely flowing through blind corners in the bunch, we are racing on the razor edge of control. Only a paper thin barrier keeps us cyclists in this world and from careening into the next one.

Bike racers are all like Icarus, flying high and fast on wings fashioned for us. We want to reach our glory. We need to see the limits we can test. Fortunately few of us push too far. But once in a while, someone does get too close to the edge, and plummets like Icarus. We are blessed that so few fatal accidents occur in bike races. Yet that makes each fatal incident seem more tragic.

I do not race to cheat death. I am not interested in thrill seeking. I train hard, knowing that I do not have pro talent, but hoping to emulate the dedication and dignity the peloton displayed today.
I race to squeeze all the passion, energy, and joy that my tender grip on this life can wring out.
I ride to live as fully as I can.

I will put these thoughts aside so that I may race again, but I will not forget.
Rest in peace Wouter; you race with the angels now.

Who Won What?!? a season of surprises

2011-04-11T19:12:00.000-07:00

Bike races are like a box a chocolates, you never know when its going to get crunchy, or gooey, or crashes you out from a sudden drop in blood sugar. You just hope to grab the best one before anyone else takes it. (Not what you were expecting?) This year, the big spring classics have been full of surprises. The crashes, the mechanicals, the individual injuries, even the team tactics have been somewhat surprising. The biggest surprise of all has been the winners. None of the monuments were won by a guy named as a favorite before the race. Sure Goss and Nuyens were on the "outside chance" lists of some writers. But they were both longshots. Van Summeren wasn't even the #3 option for Garmin. He had the last number in the team start order signifying "domestique". No one can deny that each of these racers is talented and deserving. Yet, they were the darkest of dark horses. Every bike race has a fair measure of good luck for the winner. You can not win on good luck alone, but you certainly can not win with out it. Crashes dashed the chances of many team leaders in la Prima Vera, and as usual in Paris-Roubaix. A couple of dropped bottles likely cost Cancellara his margin on the Muur. Boonen's jammed chain in Arenberg was the beginning of his end. The lack of good luck cost all the big favorites their shot at glory. Goss, Nuyens, and Van Summeren had more than luck on their side. They each had directors & teams that supported them in the race. (something Chavanel might have liked at the Ronde) They all had the strength and smarts to be in the right position. They each believed in themselves enough to finish first. None of their wins were by chance alone. Perhaps the leason of this year's classics is that the conventional wisdom isn't always so wise. The odds on favorite can always have a bad day, leaving the flowers for someone else. A good racer is ready for opportunities, and a good team director supports that guy when the race plays out for a "non-favorite". These races have been very exciting for all the upsets. We can hope the Ardenes and the Grand Tours will be just as dramatic.

Taking New Media for Granted

2011-01-26T11:06:00.000-08:00

Media has changed enormously in the last 10 years. For a longtime cycling fan like me, this is a wonderful thing. Do not get me wrong. Hundreds of websites, thousands of blogs, Facebook, Twitter, Vs., livestreams, YouTube clips, and now Universal Sports replays means we can consume all day everyday consuming cycling; we sometimes do this rather than actually riding bikes (or any other useful activity).

Realize this also means that we can spend hour upon hour indulging in our favorite sport, cycling. Back in the day (even 1o years ago) none of this existed. We got one hour of Tour de France coverage once a week when I first followed the tour in 1987. All other information on bike racing came in monthly magazines. I waited weeks to find out who won any event. I also devoured each issue of those magazines. No page was wasted.

I make this point anticipating that some fans will feel frustrated that Universal Sports is charging $5 for their live stream of the Cyclocross World Championships. My reaction is whopee! I'm thrilled to be able to pay such a small fee for a high quality stream. Bonus that I can plug into a big screen TV and follow commentary on atleast 4 different english language sites.

I would also encourage everyone who wants World Cup cyclocross live on a regular basis to do the same. The reason is simple; Universal apparently owns the U.S. broadcast rights to UCI World Cup events. The more viewership they have for Worlds, the more likely they will stream World Cups live in the future. Now Universal Sports shows replays of the WC races on cable, weeks after the event, at 4 a.m. Better than nothing, but barely. So if you want to see cyclocross get more broadcast attention, pay up and watch on Universal Sports rather than poaching Sporza's feed. I'll miss the commentary in dutch too, but its the right thing to do for the future of US cyclocross.

'Crossed Out: its too early to feel this beat.

2010-10-08T09:15:00.000-07:00

photo by Zoo

The greatest part of New England cyclocross is there are so many good races. The toughest part of New England cyclocross is that there are so many good races & racers.

Last weekend was the biggest event of them all, Gloucester. The course is not the toughest, but the competition is, and so I am always at my limit racing Gloucester. But more on that later.

The season has started fast and furious this year. Quad CX was intense. Then I raced three doubles in a row; Catamount 1&2, Loon/SBX, and Gloucester. Loon was hard both for the course, and that I ran around helping out all day. Sucker Brook is just a shoulder to shoulder speed fest, seemingly more so every year.

And this year we add to the mix a mid-week night race, Nacht von Weasel. This race is scheduled in between Gloucester and Providence to make NECX Superweek. I wanted to rock the Weasel. But I couldn't rock the Weasel. Family commitments take precedence during the week. I had a commitment on Columbus Day weekend before the season started, so no Providence Cup either.

I'm o.k. with this, really. I felt like I had been dropped from the top of the rock the day after Gloucester. My poor old aching left knee needs some rest. Especially since there are 9 weeks left in the cyclocross season AFTER Columbus Day. I expect that some guys are going to be burnt to a crisp next Monday. I don't want to be one of them.

Back to Gloucester. I had a startlingly similar weekend as last year, only this year it was dry and fast. I started much better on day 1, up in the top 30 where I hoped to stay. But my knee blew up after 2 laps. After going backward about 20 places, I decided it was better to live for another day. So I stepped off the course and went to find an ice pack for the knee.

photo by Zoo

Day 2 also started very well. I moved up 20+ spots coming off the pavement to the top 40. Then the whole bunch compacted on the run-up off the sea wall. At the top the guy ahead of me tripped and I ran into him. I knocked myself off course and my chain off the bike. I got back on at the very back of the bunch. So I lost about 30 spots in 30 seconds. I chased hard up the group for the next lap getting back 20 of those spots. I was closing in on the top half of the field, but could not push my knee any harder. I pedaled as easy as I could without slowing down too much for a lap. In that lap, the 4 guys chasing me bridged up, including my arch nemesis G-Ride. As we drafted along the far straight away he flatted, so it was just me and the other two guys. I attacked hard with 2 to go into the hillside chicane. I opened up a quick 10 second gap. I kept pressing on the bell lap. I could now see two of the guys ahead of me that I let go on lap 4. But I could not get to them before the finish. I did manage to keep my spot. 50th. Not what I had hoped for, but a wee bit better than last year, and a minute closer to the leaders.

photo by Todd Prekaski

The best part of Gloucester this year was that the party afterward was bigger & better than ever. G-Ride is correct, club tent row made for a better party. Chip Baker throws one premier 'cross party (Hup Hup Hup) Plus they had more good beers at the sponsor tent. To top it off, I got to meet the man behind THE blog, monsieur metro critique himself, BSNYC.

So I had a good Gloucester, and 5 days afterward I feel almost recovered. Plenty of more racing left in this season. I'd rather enjoy it all, than be 'crossed out.

Merry CX-Mas & Happy 'Cross Chanukah

2010-10-01T09:54:00.000-07:00

Bike racing is a gear intensive sport. Once I started racing I also started wanting multiple wheelsets, tubular tires, cassettes, saddles, and new kit every year. I end up getting a whole lot of stuff all at once before the season begins, so that everything is ready when needed. Once when I was at my sponsoring LBS picking up the pre-season big box of parts and tires, a customer looked over at my haul and said it looked like Christmas morning. Getting spiffy new gear is a bit like being a kid on Christmas. But when I get my road or mtb parts, I usually have to wait a few months to enjoy them; I don't get to play with all the new toys right away. So its just not as exciting as Christmas

Cyclocross season is different. I get parts and clothes specifically for cyclocross in September. Its a second round of new gear excitement for the year. Plus, the cyclocross season is right on top of us, so close I can almost smell it. Its like getting gifts on Christmas Eve!

I know I am not alone;

I read the excited FB and twitter posts from my 'cross racing buddies about their new gear.

Whether it's just stocking stuffers like new pedals, brakepads, or hoods.

or if you've been pretty good, fancy tires and new team kit

or if you've been really good St. Niklaas brings you zippy new wheels or a whole new bike!

even the best masters and pro racers get excited for their pre-season presents;

http://jonnybold.blogspot.com/2010/09/its-in.html

http://plixi.com/p/47806597

http://twitpic.com/2qxcof

So I'm calling this season of new toys and childlike excitement CX-Mas

or as Maestro Myerson suggested, 'Cross Chanukah

regardless of which you prefer, I hope you get all you wished for. See you at the big race.

You need the Skills

2010-09-28T11:30:00.000-07:00

photo by Janice Checchio

The variety of skills needed to race cyclocross is under-appreciated. Cyclocross is not always a criterium on grass, it is not usually a mtb cross country race on narrow tires. The skills are more than just hopping off the bike and over a set of planks. Going fast in cyclocross takes a long list of techniques for the various challenges.

photo by Janice Checchio

Nor'Easter Cyclocross at Loon has to be the most challenging course I've raced in New England. In Europe near impossible descents on cyclocross courses are more common than in the U.S. In the early days of cyclocross, courses would include "death drops" that today seem like mtb gravity stunts. I've watched Belgian races on the inter tubes where some downhills are better to run than to ride. Loon was challenging because the descents were HARD, white knuckle full brake grip hard. Anyone who could carve down the loose steep twisty descents got plenty of free speed to help them win. I was pushed to my limit in transitioning from tough climb, to tougher descent. But I made it down everything without touching the dirt, at least in the race. I would have liked to go down it faster, but I made it clean. Of course you still had to run, sprint, and dismount, but it was descending that made the race.

photo by Rob Bauer

Sucker Brook CX required other skills than just hopping barriers. SBX is a flat course with few features that experienced cyclocross racers would find challenging. The only places you can get into trouble is cornering too fast on the grass or in the loose section on the fire road. So I went back on word to myself, and signed up for the Killer B race. The only time I've left a bike race in an ambulance was the last Killer B (cat 3) race I did 6 years ago. I needed to be at the front early to avoid the carnage. I figured that top 15 coming off the start would be good enough. I was wrong.

I got to the start a little late and was on the 3rd row. I popped the start hard and moved up to 10th coming through the grassy turns, so I figured I was golden. But as we came over a set of dusty little whoop-de-dos, the guys in front of me stacked it. Anyone who pre-road the course would expect to just roll over these. It was hard to see in the dust, but no need to STOP. From going 20 mph to complete stop shot me off course. I jumped back on the course from behind the pile-up, only to be blocked and forced off the bike again 100 meters further up. And I drop my chain too. To add actual insult to injury G-Ride heckles me as he comes past. (like Nelson going Ha-haw, "kryptonite") So from 10th to DFL in under a minute, just because kids these days don't know how to ride their bikes in the dust! I jumped back on full of fury, racing in anger. I managed to ride everything clean the rest of race, hopping the log feature every lap, chasing back up to the front half of the group. I even cut under G-Ride in a loose corner as revenge, but without taking anyone out. I could make all the turns, but I could not keep my head together enough to move up to the top 20. I was mentally exhausted from my rage over the first 3 laps. The skills are not just bike handling. I needed to keep a grip on my anger.

A completely clean race and a top 10 result would have been nice. I should apologize now to all the cat. 3 racers I yelled at as I tore past in laps 1&2. I was loud, I was angry, I wasn't nice. And everyone has to learn their skills somehow. The cat. 3 race is the place for guys who have more speed than experience. I realize that I did not get the nick-name "CCR" by accident, but by lots of accidents, and slips, spills, splash downs, generally poor bike driving. Yet, each incident taught me something to improve my CX skills. Everyone falls down sometimes, good racers develop the skills to go faster and fall less. To race cyclocross, you need the Skills.

Deep End of the Pool: swimming with New England CX sharks

2010-09-21T12:27:00.000-07:00

photo by Janice Checchio

New England does not have the highest turnout for cyclocross races, I think that goes to Chicago area 'cross or to Seattle. Nor does it always have the nastiest weather, that definitely goes to Portland. But it does have a very deep field in most every field.

Last weekend was the New England Championship Series #1-2. And it was the second week of the season. About 400 total racers each day lined up in northern Vermont, half the draw that will come to Gloucester or NoHo. The turnout was light partially because there is still road racing going on, partially because the course at the Catamount Center is hard; really really hard. Day 1 had 486 feet of climbing each lap. The masters 35+ did 5 laps in 42 minutes to the leaders for almost 2500 feet of climb. Day 2 was not much easier since there is no coasting on this course, it was all grass power sections, turns, and short steep climbing.

But the biggest factor in making the races tough, is the competition. I counted 5 current national champions, 9 former national champions (in juniors or masters or collegiate), and 1 former and 1 current worlds masters champion, including the current pro/elite U.S. champion, the guy pictured above. Every field had deep talent. Everyone was racing for their best result.

And that is the lesson that I learned last week; in New England cyclocross, victories are rare for most. Even podiums or top 10's are hard to come by. If you're going to be a cyclocross racer, you have to race for the love of it. There are much less demanding ways to win trophies and medals. Bike racing in these parts is about the love of going as fast as you can, and trying to do a bit better each time. It helps to keep your sense of humor and humility packed with your race kit. Those things help salvage a badly bruised ego after a tough race.

It also helps that we are friendly, if often sarcastic, bunch. I love the camaraderie of the NE cyclocross regulars almost as much as the racing, almost. Because I do love to race cyclocross first and most of all.

I think everything you need to understand about the depth of cyclocross around here, is summed up in 1:40 sec of video shot by the uber cyclocross nut, Henry Jurenka. Note the first shot, 2 current, and one former master's national champion. Everybody, though, giving it their all. Enjoy.

http://www.cyclocrossvideos.com/cx/2010_cx_UCI/2010_VERGE_2_Masters_35plus_1-2-3_Start_and_Lap_1.html

Not Dead Yet....

2010-09-17T09:27:00.000-07:00

Yes, dear blog, I've been away for a long time. But I have not forgotten you. Its just, well, I've been distracted for a few months, by training, and racing, and being injured, and getting over a chronic injury, and starting to train/race/recover again.

A few things I've re-learned along the way:

Training is not racing. No matter how hard the group ride or the intervals, they are not like a race. There is not the same level of effort, fear, or thrill as in a hard race.

Racing is not training. Maybe for the pro's it can be, but there are too few chances to race, and too many guys trying to smack me down to treat any race as just a training event. If I am going to suit up for a race, than I better come prepared to give it a wee bit more than group ride.

The most important race to win, is the one between your ears. The old maxim "I am my own worst enemy" is true for racing bikes as well. We all can underperform when we think "I can't", whether it is closing a gap, positioning for a sprint, or climbing a hill. We also wreck our chances at peak performance by failing to sleep enough, eat the right food, stay hydrated, or get to the race fully equiped. Daily focus and good habits help race day performance. The most stunning fact I've learned this week is that mental stress can lower hematocrit levels! So just by being an anxious stressed out mess, I am reducing my blood values and thereby ability to perform.

Great!

The converse is true too, the more mentally & emotionally together I can become, the better I will train, the better I will race. It takes more than just having your head in the game, its keeping it together as much as you can, every day. Racing is not like life, it is life. It is not all of my life, but it is an intregal day in day out part of my life, like it is for all racers.

Fortunately, we all have been taught how to win the race between our ears since kindergarten:

Just keep turning over the wheels, you'll get to the top faster than you imagine.

Riding is Not Racing; cycling for honor or keeps.

2010-04-27T18:13:00.000-07:00

I love riding my bicycle, I love a good group ride, but that is not racing. Let me begin by stating that everyone starts out riding a bicycle. You have to walk before you can run, ride before you can race.

A fast group ride can seem like a race. The group rolls out, there may be a neutral section for a few miles, or the group may sprint out of the parking lot. Regardless the pace, the last few town lines may be sprints. A new rider maybe clinging onto to the back of the bunch by the end, just like racing. Veteran riders may be worn out from the pace and the sprints. The beauty of the fast group ride is that the training ride can include the dynamics of a road race.

But it is not a race. No one has a bib number, there is no pace car or officials, there is no finish line, there are no prizes. Everyone rides for honor, not for keeps. That fact makes the dynamic different. Sprints may go 4 wide, but not 10 deep. Attacks are as likely to be met with indifference as with counter moves. The pace may be high, but the intensity is not the same.

Racing is a different game. This weekend I failed horribly at my first race of the year. The race was a short time trial that I came to over geared, under rested, and not mentally prepared. I have plenty of legitimate reasons for my poor performance; among them an injured hip from hitting the deck last week, a cold that preoccupied my sinuses, & early season under training. But it is never fun to produce a mediocre performance. At some level I planned it this way. I had low expectations for the first race of the season. If anything it was a chance to practice my pre-race routine. I did manage to get all my gear together and arrive on time to the event. But that was my only very small accomplishment of this event.

I had been doing well in the early group rides, until a slipped pedal vaulted me to the tarmac. But even before that incident, I knew that I was lacking in race fitness. The ability to dig deep into your reserves and then hit the pace hard again & again is what seperates riding from racing.

This week, I will recover, and hit the intervals harder, so that when we are racing, i.e. riding for keeps, I can perserve my honor.

The successful solo break; winning with grand panache

2010-04-19T12:11:00.001-07:00

There are many ways to win bike races; from a high octane lead out train, with a well timed sprint out of group, grinding it out when the weather forces most everyone else into the car, even the dumb luck of the chase group going off route. But the most satisfying and most difficult way to win, is the solo break away. Rarely do these moves work. You are setting yourself up for a spartan like battle. It is you against the rest of the pack, or atleast against a motivated chase group, and they all want to steal your glory. It is a fight of one against a dozen.

But every so often, a racer has the talent, the tenacity, and the luck to pull it off. Some guys just seem to have the legs and the guts for this kind of win. A week ago, Fabian Cancellara reminded me of how beautiful that sort of victory is, twice. Joe Parkin described winning this way as the most beautiful victory. When a racer has so much gap coming to the line that he can sit up and enjoy the moment from 100 meters out, he calls it "no one else in the picture".

Another racer a generation ago had the same knack for hard solo victories at Roubaix and Milan-San Remo, Francesco Moser. Cancellara may be his sucessor in race style. Moser was also a tremendously powerful time trialist and attacking racer. He was fluid on the pedals and a mentally tough racer like Cancellara. I hope Spartacus goes on to win many more classics and breaks the hour record too.

I have never won a race this way, perhaps someday I'll find the courage and the opportunity to pull it off.

P.S. Congratulations SoloBreak on a long awaited solo victory.

The Ronde van Vlaaderen: flahute pain and glory

2010-03-31T08:46:00.000-07:00

The cobbled classics start this week with the E3 Prijs and conclude with the Paris-Roubaix on April 11th. These are all great races. It takes the utmost endurance, strength, skill, and confidence to win any of the hardman races. The brute force of each route combined with the weather make it daunting to ride much less race.

All bike racers are sado-masochists. The only way to win a long hard race, especially if you are going to win solo, is to wear out your competition. You have to attack when the other guys are suffering so much, that they can not even conceive of matching the effort. Cyclists have to be masochists because the only way to develop that strength is torture yourself in training so that you relish that pain. Sometimes in races, the one who can suffer the most wins. Longtime fans of bike racing recognize and appreciate this fact.

It is the level of suffering that makes the Ronde the greatest one day race. Sure, la Primavera is a beautiful race, Liege is the Queen of the Classics, and Roubaix is greatest of the cobbled races. But the intensity, the relentless & steep bergs, the narrow broken roads all make the Ronde the most brutal one day race. It is the only road race where riders frequently have to walk up climbs. It is the only race with its own museum.

Every boy who wants to be tough racer dreams of racing the Ronde.

I can't wait for Sunday!

Personal Progress in Cycling; getting faster and faster

2010-03-30T11:57:00.000-07:00

Cycling is a painfully simple sport; ride your bike faster than everyone else. Every cyclist at some point wants to be faster. No matter how accomplished, when a racer stops wanting to become faster, they start losing ground to their competitors. This is true regardless of the number of years a cyclist has been riding. No matter how much faster you are now compared to when you started, it always hard to get that little bit faster yet. My 2nd favorite bike racing quote is from my 1st cycling champion, Greg Lemond:

"It never gets easier, you just go faster"

But cyclists are people, so we want to find the short cut. In seeking that short cut, we make cycling horribly complicated. As the season begins, cyclists eagerly want the magic formula that will make them faster with out the pain and suffering of more hard miles. The three ways I see my buddies trying to defy nature to become faster without effort are in potions, lotions, and notions.

Potions: Cyclists have taken all manners of substances to try to gain an advantage for a century. Without dabling in very very effective but illegal drugs, bike racers can still find a chest full of other "preparations". Whether its amino acid supplements, collodial minerals, mega vitamins, chinese herbal mushrooms, or snake oil, someone will spend hundreds of dollars this month at the "health" food store to boost their energy/recovery/power. Most of the time, these treatments turn out to be worthless. At best they give you the jitters and make your breath bad. If any of these substances really worked well, they'd be banned already.

Lotions: There is a perverse joy to rubbing embrocation on your legs. It hurts so good. While there are many reasons why road racers say that they shave their legs, for all non-pros, there is only one good reason: because we rub lots of lotions on them. The real reason why I think amatuer cyclists shave? Vanity. We all want to look pro. Having said that, shaved legs make embrocation feel SO much better. Hair on the legs just goops up the balm, keeping it from the skin. The secret hot sauce may not make me faster, but it makes me feel like a racer. It makes me think I'll be more comfortable in the race (even if it only helps for the first 10 minutes). Does that largely psychological edge actually help? Maybe

Notions: Just like you, I got plenty of emails every week flogging the latest revolution in training techniques, whether its periodization, power analysis, cycling specific yoga, core conditioning, visualization (I think I can, I think I can), or bike devices. Of course each of these notions takes time away from riding your bike, and/or takes money out of your wallet.

My latest favorite is the crankset & chain ring devices. The more technical cyclists seem obsessed with the "dead spot" in the pedal stroke. So inventors come up with all sorts of devices to "eliminate the dead spot". The simplest is the ovalized chainring set. The more complicated are ratcheting bottom bracket set ups. None of these devices do more than what one-leg drills will, they only do the same thing for longer. The basic way to avoid the dead spot, pull up and push through your pedal stroke faster.

In short, no potion, lotion, or notion can overcome the simple truth: if you want to ride a bike faster you have to push the pedals harder. The super special preparations may make you believe that you can, but you still have to put the power into the pedals. That is all there is to getting faster. Push the pedals harder for longer periods of time; up hills, in sprints, over rollers, in time trials, just Pedal Harder.

Then recover, repeat, rest.

Which brings me to my 1st favorite bike racing quote:

"Don't buy upgrades, ride up grades". Eddy Merckx

Getting Along to Get Along: the problems of multi vehicle roadways and cycling.

2010-03-23T08:48:00.000-07:00

Easily the biggest problem in cycling is safe roadways to ride on. I am not talking about the problems of bike racing, but of cycling in general. And the biggest issue in roadway safety, is driver error. Likely 90% of cycling deaths are caused by dangerous cyclists or more likely, inattentive and dangerous drivers.

This past week two events forced me to think long and hard about this topic, the rant by Tony Kornheiser and the reaction to it by Lance, and the death of Adam Little. The topic is not new. Cyclists have fought for their share of the road for a century. Distracted drivers are dangerous enough, but the risk is compounded by the "get off the road" attitude of many toward cyclists. Every few months someone in the media publicly expresses the bitter animosity that many motorists feel for all cyclists. Frustrated behind the wheel, some motorists (perhaps more than we want to acknowledge) think of all cyclists as pests, even as vermin of the road. When delayed for even a few seconds, they rage. This is true even if their neighbors or family members are cyclists. The rage can easily turn into violent confrontation with serious, even deadly, consequences. Unfortunately this has been true several times in the past few years, whether the road rage ER Doc in L.A. or the firefighter in North Carolina who brandished a pistol at cyclist riding with his son in a childseat?!?.

While there is no justification for assualting another person in a fit of road rage, cyclists do themselves harm if we fail to understand why drivers hate bicycles. I believe it is because most people in this country see driving a car, bus, or tractor as a necessity, and bicycles as merely frivolous recreation. The great challenge we face is to turn this attitude to where everyone views the car and the bicycle as equal choices in transportation. While we may have the law on our side in the case of an accident, that matters little if the law is not enforced. Motorists and the authorities reinforce their negative view by stating that cycling is dangerous because of auto traffic, and therefore not appropriate on the road. I agree with my friend Richard Fries, that the best solution to creating a different attitude amongst drivers, is to be humane, and be on the road. The more frequently cyclists are part of traffic, the more motorists will come to accept our presence.

However, there are good ways to go about this, and not so good ways. The biggest sore spot in many communities is the out of control group ride. I love a good fast group ride, they can be some of the best training and terrific fun. But they are not races, and should be not conducted like a race. My little town has alot of group rides, usually 8-9 a week during the season. most of the time, these rides are very responsible; everyone stops at lights, people ride in 2's, and we single up for passing traffic. Occassionally, one of these rides gets out of control; some one from out of town starts riding across the lane, or ignoring traffic, or shooting the shaft at drivers. When this happens, we hear about it very quickly. The local PD knows to call the owners of the local bike shop, who know everyone that runs the various group rides. One advantage of living in a small town is that we are accountable to each other. But that doesn't stop problems entirely. I've had angry conversations about cyclists and group rides, even with my neighbors. In larger areas, where rides are more anonymous, and traffic more congested, I imagine the problems can be impossible. But as cyclists, I believe that we are responsible for riding without causing needless conflict with auto traffic. When group rides regularly show blatant disregard for motorists, we are all put in greater danger.

The second group of cyclists that I have mixed opinions about is Critical Mass. On the one hand, I appreciate the attempt to make cycling in urban areas more accepted/visible. I admire their activism. On the other hand, I am not sure that sometimes obnoxiously stopping traffic is the best way to accomplish the goal. Critical mass rides can quickly devolve into mob rule, complete with taunting cars and throwing things. The reality is that if we allow mob rule to govern the roadways, cyclists will loose. We are a vulnerable minority on the road. Cars and motorists outnumber us by every measure. If it came to vote, I believe some communities would restrict cycling to the bike path only. It is easy for people who have never ridden a bicycle faster than 12 mph, or haven't ridden in decades, to vote for such a measure. We need to remember we have both rights and responsibilities for safe cycling. Our ability to enjoy our sport may depend on it. We only improve our position if we ride in a way that motorists can respect us. We have to share the road too.

This is not to say that motorists are justified in their negative attitudes. Or, that cyclists are treated fairly on the road. Typically, we are not. But we can only control our own behavior, and seek to have a positive effect on the attitudes of the community at large through our positive actions. I believe that it is only through extending respect that we will slowly, but surely, win more people's respect for cyclists.

The pre-season itch: A cyclists spring fever

2010-03-17T18:45:00.001-07:00

Part of the the "joy" of going without comfortable outdoor bike riding for 10-12 weeks, is the long delayed gratification of the first spring ride. Once the snow starts to melt enough that the skiing is poor, and the temperature is 10 degrees above freezing, cyclists in the New England get anxious to ride on the road. Of course the trails will be covered with snow and slop for several weeks, but its time to get cracking on those base miles. The excitement and yearning for those first few long fast rides is intense. Its opening day, the last day of school, and getting out for early recess all at once. It is Cycling Spring Fever, temp. 104 degrees.

There are several problems with Spring Fever for cyclists. First and foremost is that up North, the weather rarely cooperates with the calendar. We may want to abandon the heavy gloves and booties, leave the wool helmet liner at home, but you may get a good case of frost bite that way. We all want to ride like this:

But typical March weather in New Hampshire is 40 degrees with 10-20 mph winds and a chance of snow. So we almost always have to ride dressed like this:

Even when the weather is nice, the roads are not. 4 months of rain, freeze, snow, ice, thaw, re-freeze makes the pavement look like it was carpet bombed. I never knew that frost heaves existed until I moved to New Hampshire. Now I appreciate them for the axel breaking, lower back pulverizing, teeth rattling, force of nature that they are. But if you're going to ride in the spring, you just have learn to bounce and weave over them. Much as you may want smooth flat pavement, you get this:

The third problem with early spring cycling in New England is the "Spring Classics". Since the pro calendar in Europe includes major races in March and early April, all the fans of pro cycling are geared up for the great events. This encourages amateur cyclists to attempt truly stupid training rides. Each time I watch the Milan-San Remo, or Tour of Flanders, or worst of all the Paris-Roubaix I am tempted to go ride 120 miles, in 40 degree weather, with hills, at race speed. Never mind that the pros have 5-6,000 miles in their legs already, and my longest ride of the year is about 30. The thrill of watching the hard races added to spring cycling fever is a lethal combination.

The weather has been better than average so far this March. Riding each day in knickers and a light jacket has been pleasant. But I know better than to get comfortable. I've seen road races in May cancelled due to snow storms. We could have 6-8 more weeks of hard sledding. But I'll take what I can get for riding in March. Every ride this time of year is a good ride. Anything to remedy the pre-season itch.

Dopes: lying, cheating, and stealing your victories in cycling

2010-03-12T10:46:00.000-08:00

"Psst, Do you think they'll catch us Jacper?"

This week the cyclocross community is disappointed to find out that the "too good to be true" performance of the Szczepaniak brothers at the Worlds Championships, was too good to be true. The only thing harder in Tabor than the pronunciation of their names, was understanding how these not usually great racers, rode Meeusen and Jouffroy into the ground. It turns out the answer is simple, they took EPO. They joined the long ugly history of drug cheats in bike races.

Doping in cycling is far from a new story. Some cyclists have been using every conceivable substance to gain an edge since bike races were first organized. As far back as 1896, racers would use cocaine, strychnine, and even ether to keep turning the cranks. The opinion that bike racers are no more than junkies on two wheels nearly killed fan interest as long ago as the 1920s. As the years have gone by, the substances have changed, from cocaine to amphetamines and cortisone, to the current stuff. The attitude amongst managers, sponsors, and racers has remained the same: as long as every one is doing the same stuff, and no one talks, it is a fair race. Most other sports still operate under this very assumption.

But something significant changed in cycling during the 1990's. The old atitude held that the drugs could only help so much. The saying was "you can't turn a donkey into a thoroughbred". Certainly amphetamines and cortisone would not improve a cyclists base level of power, and therefore only marginally improve performance. But when blood boosters started to be used in 1989-1990, the game changed. Suddenly guys who were also-rans, became contenders. The effects of increasing blood levels were so significant, that clean cyclists could barely keep up with their prior year's results. This forced every professional cyclist to either take EPO, accept a diminished role (and paycheck), or quit.

The abuse of blood boosters also had a huge cost to the peloton. Unlike coritsone or amphetimines, EPO abuse for long periods of time will kill, either from heart attack or stroke. I believe the real turning point for cycling, was the sponsors realization that there would be a Tom Simpson every week if pro racers kept abusing blood bosters. So the UCI and ASO got very serious in a relatively short period of time about catching the dopers. They really had no choice; if your racers keep dropping dead, eventually you have no sponsors, no fans, and no races.

Still, a decade after the Festina affair, the doping continues. Besides the Polish wonders, in the past year alone we have had Thomas Dekker, Davide Rebellin, Stephan Schumacher, Antonio Colom, Mikel Astaraloza, and Danilo Di Luca all busted after signifacant race results. Earlier this year we were treated to act 2 of the Ricardo Ricco show. In this episode he throws the mother of his child under the bus after she is popped for the same dope he took. He makes Raimondas Rumšas look like the husband of the decade.

il sposo malissimo, in happier times

To some degree, I believe that the temptation to dope is a basic flaw in human character. I do not believe that cheating in more prevelant in cycling than other sports, perhaps less in this era of strict testing. I also believe that cheating in sport is less consequential than in business, politics, education or any other human endeavor. The sad truth is that where ever money or glory is on the line, some people will cheat to win.

This is not to say that we should do nothing, or give up the sport in disgust. I do believe that cycling is heading in the right direction. I am encouraged by every young pro, like Jeremy Powers or Peter Stetina or Coryn Rivera as examples, or old pro like Steve Tilford or Adam Myerson or Todd Wells, who has the courage to race clean. All of these racers have expressed the same idea; they know that they race against others who are doping, and that may cost them results, and therefore money. But their only real choices are to quit, or keep racing the best way that they know how. So they continue to race, clean and proud of it.

Ultimatley, the dopers are cheating themselves. Once caught, they lose their results and at least some of their opportunities. Cyclcross and mountain bike racing have been less forgiving of dopers than road racing, just ask Ben Berden or Roland Green. Even if dopers are never caught, they have lost something irretrievable, their honor & pride. Much as that sounds trite, it is true. Cycling, just like life as a whole, is about how you play the game as much as whether you win. After each racer hangs up the wheels, they alone can answer the question "did I race the best way?" I imagine that for the doping cheats, there is less joy in any of their accomplishments. Those nagging doubts would, for me atleast, wipe away any victory.

Off-Season Activities: fun with winter weight gain.

2010-03-10T04:25:00.000-08:00

The price of having spectacular cycling weather from July-October in New England is that we endure 3 months of no outdoor cycling at all. From December to the beginning of March only the most intrepid bike idiot can be found riding the roads. It is simply too cold, too icy, too pot holed to ride at all for most. Sure, if you dress like the michelin man and mount up studded tires you might be able to ride 5 miles. But it is hardly fun for more than a few rides.

Winter is the off season for northern New England cyclists. So we have to figure out what to do with 10-12 hours of free time each week (besides drink beer and get fat, which I'll discuss in a moment.) Most of us just want to get out of the house and do something aerobic. Winter sports come first to mind, namely skiing. New Hampshire and Vermont are wonderful places to ski, whether alpine or nordic or backcountry. I switched to nordic skiing several years ago since most of my cycling friends were doing that. The only problems with skiing are the time spent getting to somewhere to ski, and the weather. Unlike cycling, I can not just hop out the back door and ski. The weather is a much greater limiter in skiing than cycling. Too much snow, too wet snow, too dry snow, or as is the case this year, not enough snow and good skiing is but a distant memory.

With a month of snowless weather and cold temps, we did get good ice on the lakes. That meant we could ice skate the big lakes with out risk of drowning. Ice skating on touring style speed skates is a blast. Nordic skates mean that snow-less winters no longer depress me. Cruising around bob houses on stretches of open ice is wonderful for the quads, if less aerobic than a good hard ski.

But, I never avoid putting on some weight in the winter. I am too tempted by holiday goodies and weak after a season of self denial to avoid the treats. The good beers come out at Christmas and usually hang around until Valentines Day. By then, I have put on 5-7 pounds, am thoroughly disgusted with my condition, and vow to have more self control next year. Fortunately, by the end of February, the start to the cycling season is in sight.

I am glad to we are forced to take 10-12 weeks off the bike in New England. My friends in the warm parts of the country sometimes complain that they never get a break. When cycling is as easy in January as it is in June, why stop? The real problem is that they never reach peak fitness. The training is all plateau since there is no real rest. I fear that I would be the same if I lived in San Diego. So winter here forces us to actually take a rest period.

Now just keep me out of the cookie jar, please.

Flahute Aspirations: how to become a hardman

2010-03-04T11:51:00.000-08:00

definition of Flahute: http://www.cyclingrevealed.com/april05/cover.html

Coming back from a week of group rides in Florida I am reminded of how tough we have it racing bikes in New England, and how good that is. I enjoy getting away from lobster mitts and booties for a week in the sunshine. But the road racing culture is very different in Florida, and its very apparent on the group rides. On Monday it was drizzling & 50 degrees at the start time of the morning ride, but with blue sky on the horizon, so no one showed up to ride. No one rides when its wet in Naples. On Friday it was 40 degrees at the start time, so half the normal number showed, and they had full thermal tights on. On every ride, each time some one sees a twig, leaf, or gum wrapper in the road, the object is called out multiple times. I am more used to riding with a group that thinks bouncing over frost heaves in a cold drizzle in just good fun. Group rides in New Hampshire are a little like Belgium in that way; if you only ride on sunny days and on perfect pavement, you'll never ride enough to get strong. So you have to harden up, you have to try to become a flahute.

"Flahute" is a french term for the hard as granite, dumb as rocks Flemish farm boys that would race in any weather, over all roads. When more delicate french and italian racers would sit in the cafe or climb into the team car, these big belgies would be grinding away for hours in poor weather over poorer roads. The southern racers assume that it was because the Flemish boys were too stupid to know when to quit.

In truth, I believe their tenacity is from something different. A flahute keeps racing out of combination of pride and opportunity. The pride is simple to understand, if you are a bike racer, you finish races. Only the weak or worn out quit a race in Belgium. Only the soft refuse to train when it is cold, or wet, or the pavement is bad. If you do not train today, you will not be prepared to race when its cold tomorrow.

The opportunity part is a little more nuanced. Few flahutes have a chance to win in the high hills of the grand tours (there are exceptions like Mercx and Hinault). So the hard men have to look for victories in the cold tough races, when whippet thin climbers can not make it to the finish line intact. The more guys that drop out due to conditions, the better chances of victory for those who keep racing. More over, even if you don't win, the career of a cyclist can be a short as your last race. Quit now and you may be back at the farm or factory for harder/dirtier work tomorrow. Every day you get to pull on your bibs to ride is better than a day shoveling anything for a living.

Ultimately, becoming a hard man is simple; ride alot in every type of weather, learn to ride fast & straight in a hail storm, race to the finish when 80% of the field drops out. Just fix a grimace on your face and tell yourself "its a fine day to ride."

photo by Mike Whitfield

But the most difficult things in life are sometimes just that simple. No one likes to be cold and wet, no one wants to get rattled over broken roads, no one enjoys shivering uncontrolably for an hour after a race.

No one likes the tough things in life, some people simply deal with them better.

So, if you want to be a flahute, then you slather on the embrocation, adjust your cap, and keep riding through the rain.

Bobbie Traksel wins the 2010 Kuurne-Bruxells-Kuurne ahead of 26 finishers

You might win that way someday!

Pedaling in the Sticks: the joy of rural cycling

2010-02-19T08:46:00.001-08:00

Lately there has been a deluge of writing on urban cycling. In part I believe it is due to the upswing of riding bikes for transportation in cities, in part due to the fashion choices of hipsters, in part due to the fact that everyone with a keyboard and wifi can now publish their musings. (Yeah, interwebs)

I have nothing against urban cycling. I like to commute on my bike, I like to be stylish when I ride, I even like cities. I just don't want to live or ride in one anymore.

I read David Byrne's "Bicycle Diaries" this December. It turned out to be less about cycling, than about musings on the architecture, cultural attitudes, and arts scenes in various cities around the world. One biographical comment of Mr. Brynes struck me; he notes that as a teenager he "...grew to disdain the suburbs, their artificialness and sterlility." (page 9). So he sought to escape the place he grew up in by going to the big city, as many creative thoughtful kids still do. By the 9th grade, I also wanted to flee from the superficiality of American suburban life, and was thrilled with the mere thought of the great cities in the world. But I also understood that where I was best able to think, to breathe, to truly live was in quiet open places. I wanted to live in rural America, i.e. in the sticks.

What does this have to do with cycling? I will let you in on my most cherished secret, the best cycling in America usually starts 40-100 miles outside of urban centers. Even if you do live in the 'burbs, you've got to drive before the riding really gets good. You see, this is where the traffic starts to fade away, the roads are still paved, but are more designed for slow going, and you can begin to hear yourself think. Add to this the fact that the chances for single track are infinitely greater, and you have the best options for all types of cycling.

This fact is more true in New England than other corners of the nation, if only because we have so many paved little country lanes. The reason it is a secret, is that few rural communities are as cycling centric as the urban centers. But there are some very bike friendly rural towns. I am very very fortunate to live in exactly such a community. I have a group ride that I can go out on every day of the week in summer, and we ride a different route every week for months. We don't have to deal with being constantly buzzed by traffic, or risk our skin by blowing through stop signs. And if the roads are full of tourists for a week, there are always the miles and miles of single track.

I just won't tell anyone where, I might take you there sometime, maybe.

And since we have broadband now, and HD Public Television, I feel like I am missing less culture from the big city. I still like to visit every few months,

But for cycling? Week in and week out? Give me my country lane every day.

New Bike Fever: objects of desire

2010-02-11T08:43:00.000-08:00

Cycling is not just about fitness. Part of the joy/madness of cycling is an obsession with bicycles. I know of no one who is as passionate about running shoes or tennis racquets as cyclists are about their bikes. It is an instant obession as well. As soon as a boy falls in love with cycling, he falls in love with bicycles. And as soon as he falls in love with his first bicycle, it can lead to a lifelong passion for cycling.

Unfortunately, this passion is sometimes like puppy love. It comes on fast, and fades just as quickly. The new bike eventually becomes familar and faded. But, it is also like being a perpetual teenager, there is always another object of obsession right a round the corner, the next new bike, and the condition known as "New Bike Fever"

The biggest lie every cyclists tells his spouse is "this is the last bike I'll ever need/want/buy". It assumes that the bike companies will never come up with a new faster, lighter, stiffer, more aero, longer travel, better geared, more comfortable, bike again. Each and every year the great bicycle making companies put out exactly those new bikes. And every year they make sure we have glossy pictures to drool over like kids at the candy store window.

So the lie of "this is the last..." also assumes that you'll never fall in mad obsessive love with a new bike again. The day I can not fall in love with a new bicycle is the day I should sell them all and take up golf, since it will mean that I no longer have the desire for riding better than I have before now.

Falling in love with a new bicycle is also like puppy love in that is as much about the wanting as the getting. Right now, around the globe, cyclists are planning, plotting, and dreaming about their next new bike. It is February, so much of the cycling world is still confined to the rollers or short rides in tights and booties. The beautiful new bicycle is not meant for harsh conditions like this. No, no. In fact, it probably is not even available yet, or it is on order to be delivered late in the spring, or it is still in boxes. But the anticipation of that new bicycle, the sheer tingly anticipation, is exciting of itself. The fever sets your heart racing. You think of all the wonderful new features, and the places you'll ride, and how fast you'll be able to go. It is always a thrilling fantasy.

But once the buds have bloomed, and the sand has been swept from the streets, and the new bike has been built up, then, then we will ride and ride. And the fever will break. For now.

We are Not Portland! serious cyclocross and its rewards

2009-12-14T11:10:00.000-08:00

New England cyclocross is serious competitive racing.

We do not indulge in the every weekend kegger-cross that is the staple of the pacific northwest. We do not believe that cyclocross events require special costumes beyond typical race team kit, or gearless bikes, or theme events, or hot tub run ups, or doggie cross.

No; cyclocross is a race, not a two-wheeled masquerade or a carnival freakshow.

That said, we do still like to have fun. Its just that making a race like a party, is like having waffles for dinner: if you do it every week, it stops being special, it becomes ordinary.

Once or twice a season is enough to let your freak flag fly,

like at Orchard Cross,

and of course at Ice Weasels.

These races had it all this year, hilarious costumes, beer hand ups galore, donut feeds, pitzone tail gating grills, and lots of noise.

My race at Ice Weasels was remarkably bad

after a very good start.

But I had fun, and I did hop the planks in the race!

Thanks to everyone who made the 2009 New England cyclocross season a blast. See you next year.

photos by Ryan Kelly

True Cross Conditions: bog skippers and mud suckers

2009-12-09T11:25:00.000-08:00

Cyclocross fans relish the type of weather that makes others wince.

50 degrees and ankle deep mud? love it.

40 degrees and pouring rain? perfect.

30 degrees and blowing snow drifts? bring it on.

These are the types of weather where road racers climb on the trainer, and mtb racers slow to a walk. True cyclocrossers just grin and ride away.

This year we have more than our average share of "true" cyclocross conditions. From the start of the season monsoon at Palmer, to the hurricane at Gloucester, to the swamp in Maine, to the wind driven snow in Narragansett, every other week has had tough conditions. Plenty of New England racers now have neoprene gloves, portable spray washers, and tall rubber boots in their gear list.

photo by N. McKittrick

I've never excelled in heavy course conditions. I do fine racing in the cold and wet, but thick muddy courses have always thrown me. Earlier this year, though, I watched an interview with Mo Bruno-Roy, a.k.a. Ms. Mudluscious, the Mistress of Muck. She said that she does well in the slop, not because she is a high wattage power rider, but because she decides to enjoy the mud rather than let it get her down. I took that attitude into my races at Maine, and it made all the difference. I kept slogging away on the muddiest courses I've ever seen. I finished both days when 1/3 of my field dropped out. As Lance says, pain is temporary, quitting is forever.

NBX dished up two days of true cyclocross weather for us to enjoy this year. I had hoped that I would be able to race before the rain on Saturday, Nope. It went from drizzle to a steady light rain at 40 degrees for our race. I was dressed just well enough to keep warm, but not well enough to keep my energy levels high. I had a rotten start when Frank Mc jammed the start by running around me to the 2nd row at the whistle. I came off the pavement just about DFL. I was able to run past the stack up on the first hill and ride around a few other falls. By the time we reached the beach I was able to run my way into the top 30. 3 laps in, however, I started running low on gas. Each lap 1 or 2 guys would come past. I was not able to jump on wheels and keep my place. I kept driving as hard as I could without wrecking. I was bringing back Rob Kramer on the last lap and could see a few others ahead, but did not have enough to catch him by the line. I rode strong through all the mud sections without incident though. Immediately after the finish I raced to get dry clothes and then to the changing room before I started shivering uncontrollably. I was still cold an hour after the race.

Sunday was another set of challenges. Snow over night had left frozen crust in the corners. The wind had dried out most of the course, but there were still a few large mud holes, just enough to soak your feet. The wind was blowing at 15-20 mph with 35 degree temps. Fortunately there were 2 beach runs this day. I was able to move up or gain on the guys ahead of me each run. Unfortunately my hip flexors started to cramp with 2 to go. I had to soft pedal for half a lap, losing contact with Rob Kramer (again) and the chance to catch the next group. But I was able to keep rolling. I limited my losses to one more spot behind Rob; painfully to the big G himself. For the 2nd year in a row I was Gewillied at NBX on the last lap. Still, I ended the weekend with out frost bite or hypothermia. The wet and cold are hard on everyone, but true cyclocross racers just learn how to ride through it and recover.

It Ain't Tiddlywinks

2009-11-30T04:44:00.001-08:00

When I started racing cyclocross in the elite masters event three years ago, I thought how much harder could it be than the killer B race. I learned very quickly that in New England, it is alot harder. Most all of the guys that line up every weekend know what they are doing, they come prepared mentally and physically, and they will not give up an inch, even for 50th place. If you let your focus wander, or have a mechanical, or are just a little bit off energy wise, you will lose 10 places in about a minute. A bad early lap and you will drop 20 places or more.

Sterling this year was a good race for a bad weekend, both days. I have a hard time getting good rest and nutrition at my in-laws. We spent Thanksgiving there this year, and I tried, but only somewhat succeeded in eating well, sleeping well, and staying healthy. So when I showed up to race Saturday I could tell I was fighting a stomache bug. Since Saturdays course was the old familiar one, I took 2 quick laps and went to the trainer. Had a decent warmup but kept pushing fluids to settle my bad belly. Got a very good start (for me) right outside of the top 20 through the first lap. Came past Jerry early in the 2nd lap and gassed it to keep him off my wheel, then I lost focus and dropped a dozen spots. In a matter of seconds I went from where I wanted to be in the race to a minute behind. I tried to stomp the pedals to get back to the next group of five. With the wind gusting up to 30+ mph, groups of 4-5 guys controlled the pace. My belly caught up to me then and I could not push to catch the groups that had just passed me. Dan Coady and Frank McCormack caught me and I grouped up with them for a few turns. I realized that Frank was soft pedaling around the course, so I attacked out of that group to go catch the next one. The last two laps I spent going back and forth with Kevin Buckley until he clipped a tree on the last lap and went down hard. I came through but got pipped at the line from failing to see a racer on my wheel. C'est la vie. I was thrilled to have beaten most of my nemesises and a few guys I have not before.

Sunday the belly was marginally worse. I hoped that a good warmup would take care of it. No such luck. I did a longer preview of the new course. On the 3rd time around, Jerry lead me down the one tricky descent and used his magnetic powers yet again to cause me to crash. I not only hit my right hip hard, but smashed my watch. So I head over to the trainer with no way to tell time and no heart rate info. Perfect. I did three openers in what I guessed was the right zone and for the proper lengths of time. Climb off to get to the start only to have my strap on my right shoe come apart, my pit bike develop a bad brake rub, and the 2nd call to stagging announced. I got to stagging just after everyone else was lined up losing my call up. Got to the back of the line and the official blows the whistle while I am still standing beside my bike. Start readiness FAIL. Managed to catch the tail end of the group by the first corner, then put all my energy into working up through the bunch. Pushed with everything I had to make up ground for the first two laps, wondering the whole time when I would blow up. I dabbed and jammed myself on corners a few times, but kept upright. Funny thing is after three laps I caught and passed Jerry, I caught a few more guys, and then instead of blowing up, I just started cruising along. Unfortunately I had no more gass to catch anyone else. So when Dan Coady and Frank McCormack came through, I tried to jump on their wheels, but had no more jump. I spent the last lap battling with GeWilli and Martin. I got around Martin but couldn't catch GeWilli before the sprint. I'm glad I made the best of an otherwise bad race day.

Still, I can say I beat a McCormack for the first time, sick or not. I was running up the hill and over the barriers as fast as ever.

I also have an even greater appreciation for the reality that in New England Cyclocross, you must come prepared in every way every time.

Down but not out.

2009-11-23T09:03:00.000-08:00

One of my cyclocross mentors told me a few years ago "in racing sometimes you're the hammer, sometimes you're the nail". This weekend in Lowell I was the nail, and someone was swinging the 10lb. sledge. Going down in a race is never good. But getting my front wheel chopped 100 meters off the start line, sommersaulting onto the turf from a full sprint, and then getting run over by 2 or 3 guys, well lets just say I'm a bit sore right now. And that was the first 2 minutes of the race.

Yes, I did get up. And I chased like a man possessed. I even managed to work my way back to the top half of the field by mid race. But then I had a mechanical, and went down again, twice. I rode slowly around the back half of the course to get my pit bike. And I kept on racing. The best thing I've heard said about Tim Johnson was Richard Fries talking about his comeback at Gloucester in 2007, he said "its not the size of the dog in the fight, its the size of the fight in the dog" I try to remember this when I have a setback in a race. So I was not DFL (although close) and I did not DNF. Almost half of the 35+ field did drop out. No doubt because lots of guys were having trouble staying on the bike.

The trick is to realize that in cyclocross everyone goes down sometime,

flahutes get up and finish,

Champions get up & go faster than everyone else.

Gloucester; the really big show.

2009-10-07T09:20:00.000-07:00

"I don't have a work ethic. I just have work... If I'm going to catch up to you." Capt. Billy Tyne "The Perfect Storm"

Gloucester has been everything I love and everything I fear about cyclocross over the past 5 years. It is like the mythological siren, sitting on the rocks singing so perfectly, until I wreck myself on the sandy shore. Gloucester is just hard enough to be a good cyclocross course, without being so technical that the roadies stay away. It is far enough into the season that there are few competing events, but early enough that everyone is still racing. And since it is the biggest race in the most intense cyclocross region in the nation, everyone shows up with their A game. The fields are large, the racing furious, and the fans are loud.

A few of my best cyclocross moments have been at Gloucester; like riding through 2 inch mud without a fall, or learning to ride the sand pit. Watching the pros masacre each other in 3 inches of slushy fresh snow. Most memorably, starting dead last in the C race (from a dropped chain on the line) and working my way up to 8th in 2 laps.

A few 0f my worst moments in bike racing have been at Gloucester; like three years ago when I caught my rear skewer on a course stake only to have the rear wheel fall completely out of the frame when I shouldered the bike to run the sand, or the first time I ran file treads and lost it going down the hill toward the pit on the first lap (nearly impaling myself on a course stake at 25 mph), or most of all, getting a face full of someones chainring in a first lap pile up the last time I did the killer B race (requiring 30+ stitches to close the cuts, the only time I've needed to leave a bike race in an ambulance).

Still, every time I dream of doing well in a cyclocross race, its winning the sprint up the pavement at Gloucester. Richard Fries calling out on the microphone, and the whole New England cross flock screaming at the barriers.

This year, Gloucester was o.k. race wise: one fall from some one elses error, a good race after I got going again, a result I can live with. Fan wise, it was phenomenal as always. Jonathan putting on a clinic in the slop, Laura VG and Mo Bruno gritting it out despite the setbacks, Lyne returning to race CX, Mosher vs. Gunsalus vs. Morse showing that they race as hard as ever.

I am certain Gloucester will call me back again next year. Can't stay away from the really big show.

Cyclocross and other disorders

2009-10-05T19:43:00.000-07:00

Cyclocross, cyclocross; CX is simply the most masochistic of all the self loathing variants of bicycle racing. If bicycle racing is about the suffering, then cyclocross is beating yourself to a pulp and laughing at your own tears, repeatedly. It is completely draining physically, daunting technically, grinding mentally, brutally competitive and thoroughly addictive. Anyone who races bicycles for pleasure is a little bit mad. Everyone who races cyclocross is thoroughly psychotic. And Belgians are the most crazed of all. Check it out:

Superprestige overzicht 2008-2009 from jef cleemput on Vimeo.

A Typology of Freds: the man in the helmet mirror

2009-06-05T12:19:00.000-07:00

Everyone who lines up week in and out for the fastest group ride around knows that "Fred" is a cycling insult. Of all the bicycle freaks, Freds are the most dorky. To be called Fred is to say that you are square among squares, its like being called a nerd by the chess club. You still belong, but you are on the bottom of the dog pile. There are several types of "Fred" as follows;

1) The Classic Fred: The O.F. or original fred shows up to the Wednesday Night Road World Championships with a Camelback, wearing an non-descript jersey, SPD touring shoes, a decade old helmet (with mirror) and riding a hopelessly slow bike. If he is a mountain biker at heart, he will have a rack and mini-pump attached to the seattube, if he is training for his first tri, clip on aero bars. The classic fred has no idea why everyone is going so slow for the first 3 mile or what is going on at a town line, even if he's been on this ride before. The one advantage that the classic fred has is that he does know how to ride a bike reasonably well. Which is a big improvement over the next type of Fred.

2) The Neo-Fred: The neo fred is the guy who gave up running or tennis and found cycling. While recovering from an arthroscopic procedure, he caught Le Tour on Versus and thought "hey, I bet I can do that!" So he read everything he can in a week on Velonews and PezCycling about being Pro. Next off he goes next week to the Local Bike Shop to buy a full Record or Dura Ace Pro team bike, orders the matching Pro team jersey/bibshorts/socks/& cap from the aptly named PBK.com, finds some Pro eyewear, Pro team helmet, and lastly gets fitted footbeds for his Pro carbon soled shoes (white of course, to match the white saddle, white bar tape, and white shifter hoods). The neo-fred shows up on Wednesday night after asking the shop guys where he can ride hard (like a pro). He may even roll up with his i-pod ear buds dangling from under his helmet straps. Unfortunately neo-freds think the thousands and thousands of dollars they've spent entitle them to be on the fast ride and talk like they know something about cycling. (as opposed to the regulars who only have thousands and thousands of miles in their legs) Fortunately the neo-fred rarely hangs on past the first 10 miles. If one makes it through that first ride, they will likely drop off at the end of the month. But it is a common occurrence each summer, like fruit flies in the kitchen. Apparently, there are so many neo-freds that they are forming their own team:

3) The Proto-Fred: The proto-fred is always under 17 years old. He rides a hand me down bike, his only pair of plain black shorts, and a jersey that is too big (or sometimes a t-shirt). Proto-fred really doesn't know any better, because, they're like tadpoles. They are the most likely fred to ride in the wrong gear, wreck themselves on a sprint, and neglect to drink because they can't get the bottle out of the cage in a group. And like tadpoles, they don't stay that way very long. In a matter of weeks they are pedaling through corners, drafting tight in the pace line, and taking emails from team directors about racing next season. The proto-fred is good for cycling's future and is the most tolerable type of Fred.

4) The Super Fred: One should always be cautious about casually dismissing another rider as merely a Fred. The Super Fred looks just like the classic type. He has hairy legs and an old ugly bike. He might be sporting a Camelback or fenders on his road bike. But he can also ride you off his wheel without breathing hard. The Super Fred just got done with some monumental mileage tour, or was the state cross country champion, or both. The first Super Fred was Fred Birchmore of Athens GA, who criss-crossed the Giro route in 1935 on a 50lb touring bike. He did this in the midst of riding 25,000 miles around the globe over 2 years. He was remarkably out of place on the race route with his touring gear, but could ride like he was racing with the peloton. So much so that he was noted by the writers covering the race and his name is permanently in cycling lore. He was the origin of the term "Fred" in cycling. There are very few Super Freds, but when one shows up, just smile and get on his wheel. Some pro racers were Super Freds, like Svein Tuft. Many serious cyclists are jealous of the Super Fred.

5) The Uber-Fred: This the last, latest, and most annoying type of fred. The Uber-Fred is convinced that they alone understand the "essence of cycling". They are Serrotta riding, Rapha clad, embrocating, cafe ferrets. They are as interested in wearing the right reproduction wool jersey as they are riding hard. They will spend as much time over their cappucino after the ride as they did on the ride. They drool over glossy books and "journals" about steel bikes or races from 30 years ago. They may hold on for the whole distance, they may not. It matters less to them than if they look good in the new vintage trainer. While many of them can ride fast, the cloud of smugness that follows behind makes drafting difficult with out an inhaler.

Truth be told, I was a proto-fred, I dress like a classic fred when I commute, and I like the cafe' as much as any uber-fred. I think most cyclists have been a Fred at one time, and still have some Fred in them somewhere. I suggest we all embrace the Fred inside. So, don't be afraid of your own freddiness, and try to be kind when a Fred rolls up on your favorite group ride. After all, that Fred may just be the man in the helmet mirror looking back.

Pedaling Squares

2009-04-21T10:40:00.000-07:00

For racers, pedaling squares means something specific; pushing the pedals hard when you are already exhausted or undertrained. The cranks turn over in a stiff jerky motion instead of the smooth arc when one is riding strong. To everyone else, it potentially means something completely different. Most people look at us lycra clad, leg shaving, wheel obsessed skinny weenies and think one thing: bike geek. Despite the progress in the popularity of bike racing over the past 10 years, no matter the number of bicycles in garages, regardless of the joy every American kid gets from their first two wheels; Grown men who ride more 10 miles a year and own all the appropriate cycling gear are seen as dweebs, dorks, nerds, square pegs, i.e. pedaling squares.

I became a bike geek pretty early on. I could say it was when my best friend got a new Motebecone 10 speed with leather bar tape for his 11th birthday, or when I heard about a skinny kid from Reno winning the rainbow jersey, but it goes back further. I am sure it was when the training wheels came off my silver Schwinn Stingray. It was love at first ride, age 6. Most kids love the freedom their bike affords them at age 8 & 9. A few us just never loose the love affair. By jr. high I didn't care (much) that kids laughed at my goofy long black lycra shorts, or in highschool at the steel mountain bike I commuted on. I just pedaled fast to the first town line to escape the noise, to find some freedom. I read Bicycling magazine cover to cover every month (when it was more than 30 pages). And I still get a thrill from a long hard ride or a new bike. Once a bike geek, always a bike geek.

But we live in a strange age. First MC Hammer made "bike shorts" popular (though with out the bike). Then came the first wave of enviro chic and mountain bikes became popular (though typically for riding on pavement with knobby tires). Then came the age of Lance. Cycling became the new golf. Lots of 30-40ish professionals bought high end road machines, complete kit, and sunglasses. Then (perhaps to justify the thousands of dollars just spent) they jumped into the local fast group ride, only to discover that cycling is well, hard. It hurts to go fast. It hurts more to fall off the group pace. And it hurts alot more to fall down. Lance left the building, Tiger returned to the links, and now golf is the new golf.

And now we have hipsters; 20 something urban alt kids who like to play bike messenger. Fixed gear track bikes with riser bars are uber cool. Some of these kids even try to ride their bikes fast, or enter a local race or two. I can not describe or critique fixie culture properly, so I leave that to the Snob . I do know that I live over a 100 miles from the nearest metro area, yet even here I spy college kids sporting cobbled together retro fixies, wearing throw back punk band hoodies and Jack Spade bags. Eventually almost all of these hipster kids will get careers, loose the piercings, or laser off the knuckle tattoos. They'll trade PBR for Chardonay. The old fixie bike will end up on craigslist or in the garage behind the mini-van.

And that's O.K.; JFK was right on when he said "Nothing compares to the simple pleasure of a bike ride" (even if he didn't likely mean it for himself). So I'll keep riding every day that I can; I'll commute to work on the clunker bike, or ride the local trails on the mtb, or race my buddies at the next town line on the group ride, or pin on a number on the weekend. My friends will still be the guys who can tell you in grams the weight of most of the parts on their bikes (and probably yours too). They'll still be willing to spend more on a new set of tubular tires than a new set snow tires. I'll still be fighting with the Mrs. over the good leg razor. Crusty, cranky, worn out, cycling obsessed fools that we are, we'll just keeping putting in the miles. Obliviously happy to be pedaling squares.