Spring Sprung???

It only took 4 months and 6 races, but spring finally sprung on the local peloton on Sunday. At least spring as I know it in Idaho – hot temps, little wind, and no precipitation. It was warm enough that the pasties were out again – this time both arms and legs – but I must say, they weren’t as pasty as the last time.

Emmett-Roubaix is a polarizing event around here. You either can’t wait for it to get here or you can’t wait for it to be over. I am in the first group I love that race. But coming in off a less than stellar spring series with no real chance of sticking with the leaders, much less winning I just wanted to survive the two miles of gravel that I would have to ride.

Actually I wasn’t too concerned about the gravel going in because I was pretty sure I would be dropped by the time the race got there and I would get to traverse it as I pleased. I hate it when I am wrong. Somehow I was still with the lead pack when the gravel hit.

I survived an early bonus escapade into the gravel after being forced off the road by an Lost River rider about a dozen miles into the race. There I was feeling good about being with the leaders after the first climb when I guy comes over giving me the choice of my front wheel in his rear, or going off the road. Been to the first one before so I opted for number two. Ultimately my off-road adventure ended with me hopping off the bike and running back to the road – then chasing like hell to get back on. I did get back on, survived the second hill – but was in the back at the first gravel stretch.

The gravel was gravelly. Ultimately I went faster in it than quite a few – I knew that extra weight would come in handy some time. Of course I still got dropped. I spent the rest of the race chasing in a pretty good chase group, but ultimately gave up on the second trip through the gravel. Kevin Donovan, and Tim Doelman really just dragged 7 or 8 of us to the finish hill from there.

I finished 12th in cat 3 out of about 20. I felt pretty good most of the way. Somewhere along the way I crossed over into the second group of people that don’t love Emmett-Roubaix, they just want it to be over. I think my will to race got jarred out in the gravel the second time around.

Beer Me…

10 Reasons I Will Never Run Robie - EVER

10. My Left Ankle. I have given running a chance in the past. The first time may not have been fair though. I weighed about 210 and decided to start by running 3 miles a day. After the first day my ankle hurt. After the second day my knee AND ankle hurt. After the third day my hip AND knee AND ankle hurt. After the fourth day my back AND hip AND knee AND ankle hurt. On the fifth day I couldn’t get out of bed.

9. My Right Ankle. I actually gave running a second chance this year. I think I ran for like an entire week before I hurt something this time. I hurt a ligament in my ankle and the doctor told me no running for 12 weeks. I told him no problem.

8. My Left Knee. A few years back I had an enflamed plica in my left knee. That’s right, there was an angry little rodent living in there! – or something like that. I actually hurt it by playing Nintendo and riding my bike at the same time – long story. Anyway it is better now, but I don’t want it to come back.

7. Running Tank Tops. I am not a fan of dudes in tank tops. Especially skinny little runner dudes in tank tops. Just because you have 2% body fat and you can see every muscle in your body doesn’t mean you are buffed and should show it off. I mean really, being able to count someone’s ribs through the arm hole in their shirt is just not right. 13+ miles of that? I don’t think so.

6. My Left Hip. Everyone knows my left hip is angry. Just thought I would take the chance to share my pain one more time. If it doesn’t like riding a bike surely it would hate running.

5. No I-pods. The only thing that running had over cycling in my book is that you were aloud to listen to music while you were doing it. A little Rob Zombie, Kid, Rock, Eminem, Metallica – that will help get you going! But what? They banned it? Well I guess its back to humming Suzanne Vega – a littler Tom’s Diner for everyone!

4. ESS VAR Ski Bindings. Long, long ago right here in Boise I used to ski a lot. More accurately I used to ski all the time and do other stuff when I could fit it in. Anyhow, after a little accident at Snowbird a friend gave me some Atomic ski demos to replace a broken ski. I called them the Atomic bombs, man they sucked. I tell you this because I don’t want anyone to think I would pay for a pair of Atomics. Anyhow they had these crazy bindings ESS VAR Racing. Like any other bindings I cranked them all the way up – god forbid one should come off. I am pretty sure that those bindings were designed never to release – ever, even if they were set at 4 (much less 14). Well one time I had a ssslllloooowww twisting fall (how to tear ligaments) and the binding didn’t release. My knee hasn’t been the same since. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t do any lasting damage – my knee just hasn’t been the same since.

3. My Enormous Head. I have an enormous head. I mean it is huge. It is amazing that they make helmets that fit it. Its like the Jack in the Box guy. You can’t run with a head like that – it just flops around and might break your neck.

2. Running is a survival skill – not a sport. I think humans invented weapons so they wouldn’t have to run.

1. Running Shorts. I really shouldn’t have to explain this. But geeezzz, I know cycling clothes aren’t very attractive, but what could be worse than those running shorts with the built in undies. Split up the side to the waistband, flimsy nylon. Oh my god I am going to be sick. I have seen less revealing items in Victoria’s Secret. At least Victoria has a secret, anyone who wears those shorts certainly doesn’t. And do they really need to make them in size large or XL? Couldn’t they put an age limit on those things? I guess all the people at the start in those would be incentive to run – away – really fast.

13+ miles of that? No way. I need to go listen to some Tom’s Diner to get my mind off this.

Angry Science Lesson One: Regression in Karma

Over the course of the last 35 years I have become a firm believer in karma – sort of. Honestly I am cynical and only believe in the dark side of karma – the one that says for each negative action you take there will be negative payback later, not necessarily of equal value.

I could give countless examples but the one I always remember is the one that ended with a $16,000 medical bill for me. Damn, I will never do that again. Nope, ain’t gonna tell you what induced that payback.

Being a firm believer in negative payback, last year I came up with my own theory. It goes something like this: for every naughty thing I do while riding on my bike, I will receive negative payback while on my bike. More specifically, I speculated that every time I flip someone in a car the bird I will get a flat tire. The theory is based on some personal anecdotal observations that I made last fall. I call it the Melmer Theorem.

I decided that I would test the Melmer Theorem this year. I have been keeping track of how many birds I flip, and how many flat tires I get (see my ticker to the right)? At random times I record the data for my plot – it has got to be random because this is science you know. OK, well actually it wasn’t quite random and this really isn’t science but here is what I have come up with so far…

Clearly there is a strong relationship between the number of birds flipped and the number of flat tires received. I fear however, that my research may be biased since I have made an effort this year to flip fewer birds (because I have worn my team kit more often – no one needs sponsored birds). Only 3 birds so far this year, that is excellent for me.

Anyhow, I will continue to track this and feel confident that I will scientifically prove karma once and for all.

Break'n Out the Pasties

It was only the fourth time this year I had busted out the pasties. One doesn’t count because it was in Colorado, the other two were earlier last week. But on Sunday everyone busted out their pasties. There were men with pasties, women with pasties, even juniors with pasties. There were Cat 4 pasties, Cat 3 pasties, and yes – even professional pasties. There were big pasties, small pasties, hairy pasties, smooth pasties, and even a few not so pasty pasties.

Yes, on Sunday for the first time all year the local race peloton bared their legs in all their pasty white glory. With temperatures expected towards 70 it was definitely shorts weather, it was a bit windy, but that was a small deterrence. I came ready for the assault on my senses armed with sunscreen, and more importantly my mirror lenses in my sun glasses.

The Cat3/Master’s A race started out pasty. Pasty legs and a pasty pace set up the first climb. I continue to be amazed at how tight the pack rides together and the aggressiveness that some people have in positioning. At one point I was between two guys, out of the saddle hitting bars with them on both sides when we rocked – pretty close right? Apparently not close enough, someone tried to squeeze up on my right.

The pasty pace ended at the top of the hill when someone took advantage of a nasty headwind to blow up the field. With the pack breaking up I tried to hang on to the group I was in and weather the storm. I was suffering like a dog, but think I was going to be ok as we were headed into a downhill.

The road was a bit bumpy and my stiff carbon wheels were transmitting every bump fully into my bike, body, and apparently my stem. Just before the downhill I noticed my handlebars slipping down in the stem.

No problem – I’ll go drops, ok the hoods came up – too far. No Problem – I’ll go hoods, whoops no hoods - down wwaaaayyyy too far. No problem, I’ll go drops – here come those hoods again. Damn it.

All this at the top of a hill, dangling on the back of a bunch, we’re up to about 40 already. Then the bar starts moving side to side in the stem – umm problem.

Did you know it takes about half a mile to stop when you are going downhill at about 40 with jelly handlebars? That was the scariest minute or so I have ever had on the bike. When I finally stopped I didn’t have any tools to tighten the stem – not even anything to MacGyver it with. I had some Goo, but I don’t think that would of held – powerbar maybe, but Goo no. Where are those bike guys with the huge saddle bag with every tool known to man when you need them?

Ultimately I had little choice but to call it a day about 5 miles in. I am completely wiped out emotionally, I have been suffering all spring – but this is just not the way to end a race and be eliminated from the spring series.

Anyhow, you may have guessed I got a new stem last week – part of my new old man bike fit. Apparently my mechanic (me) didn’t tighten the stem bolts quite enough. Some day when I get rich I am going to pay someone competent to work on my bike, until then I will just hope for the best.

Gotta go. I am running out of time to figure out how to keep my bike together for 3 trips over the gravel out in Emmett.

Hecklers: Violin Kid Revisited

I ride my bike about 10 hours a week. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but it is – just ask my wife. My point is that during my commutes and training rides I am exposed to bicycle hecklers for about 10 hours a week.

Having ridden about that much for the last 5 years I think I have seen the gambit of bicycle hecklers – from road rage guy all the way to violin kid, yes violin kid made fun of me.

We all know violin kid whether you know it or not. He was the bottom of the social totem pole the entire time you were in grade school, Junior High, and High School. He was the kid who actually ate the pea’s in the school lunch instead of stuffing them in the milk carton. He was the kid who fought the violin case onto the school bus every day for 12 years. He was the kid who tucked his shirt in. He wore a sweater vest. His Levi’s always looked brand new. When you went to his house for a birthday party in grade school the furniture was covered in plastic. Basically the anti-Lenny Kravitz. Do you remember him yet?

To be fair, he is also the guy that owns Microsoft, Dell, IBM, or any number of other companies. He is the guy with sweet cars, big houses, and trophy wives. On the other hand he may be the guy who went nuts and whacked someone who made fun of him. Surely you remember him now.

So one day last year I am riding home, and I see violin kid – violin case, tucked shirt, sweater vest, shiny blue Levi’s – he had it all. As I ride past he makes some snide remark like ‘Go Fast! Dork’. I couldn’t believe it, violin kid just made fun of me. Eff. What the hell. Am I really lower on the totem pole than violin kid?

I have known shaved legs and spandex put you in a precarious position in society, but below violin kid? Come on!?!

Damn you violin kid!

The Art of the F-bomb…

Sometimes you need to look for a silver lining. For example, when my 4 year old dropped his first F-bomb last week I had a choice – be angry or be happy.

While I don’t condone f-bombs from 4 year olds, I think there are far worse things in the world. So rather than ranting and lecturing I embraced the fact that he used ‘oh eff’ in the correct context, and also quickly retracted the f-bomb with an ‘oh frick’.

Now I know the good grammar came from watching ‘School House Rock’ video’s – the boy knows his interjections. But where in the world could he have learned the f-bomb? We were at the in-laws a few weeks back, so I will blame it on them. If that doesn’t work I will blame Ronald Reagan – everything is that guys fault.

Since this is my training blog and all, I put in 600 miles on the bike in March plus about 8 fabulous hours on the trainer.

Confined Spaces...

I am learning quickly that I have a lot to learn about racing in a field with 1’s, 2’s, and 3’s. I was still a bit apprehensive for the Birds of Prey Road Race on Sunday, but was determined not to repeat my mistakes of the previous week.

I made a baby step this time by lining up in the middle of the pack at the start instead of the back. I also made a point to keep track of my team mates who are all much better racers than me – and stay close to them.

With the course being somewhat easy, and the field being somewhat large racing was somewhat uneventful. A few attacks and associated accelerations here and there, but really nothing too hard. I even accidentally ended up near the front one time when I got in the wrong line that snaked up the side of the field – I have got to be more careful! Ultimately the race ended in a sprint – I just sat in and pedaled it out for the pack finish.
Woohoo! It will be the last for a while…

I did learn a few things along the way. Like how many Masters A’s and Cat 3’s can you fit in a 10’x10’ box – I think about 4 across the front and 4 across the back + about 3 more jammed in the cracks – so about 10. Compare that to maybe 6 in a Masters B race. So what is safer, 6 Master’s B or 10 Masters A/3’s? Probably the 10 Master’s A/3’s – still a bit scary, not for the faint of heart.

It will be interesting to see what happens when we hit the first real hills of the year next week.

10 Things I Learned in Colorado

I try to learn something new every day. Sometimes if I am lucky I learn two things, or even three. That’s why I am titling this blog about my recent 9 day trip to Colorado ‘Ten Things I Learned…’. Yup I got some bonus knowledge, besides ten sounds better than nine.

NUMBER ONE: They have bike lanes in Colorado.

At first I didn’t know what to make of it. All this extra space to the right of the white line – what was it and what should I do with it. In Idaho we would probably drive our cars in it and harass anyone that gets in our way. In Colorado they reserve it for bikes – wtf?

NUMBER TWO: They clean the crap out of bike lanes in Colorado.

In the rare event that there is a bike lane in Idaho it is promptly filled with broken glass, roofing nails, or at least goat heads. It all stays there until some dude on a bike carries it all away imbedded in his tires. In Colorado they either don’t have that stuff or they clean it up.

NUMBER THREE: They haven’t invented ‘flipping the bird’ yet in Colorado.

That is the only explanation. I didn’t get flipped off or otherwise harassed the entire time I rode my bike in Colorado. Weird.

NUMBER FOUR: They have the ‘BEER LOOP’ in Fort Collins.

Actually I don’t know what it is called. But if you ride past two breweries in a 35 mile ride I call it the beer loop. It is my new favorite ride. When I go back I am going to stop at each brewery and try to free samples during my ride.

NUMBER FIVE: They have the ‘DAMN LOOP’ in Fort Collins.

Yes I know you spell dam d-a-m, but DAMN is funnier. Besides when you climb from about 5000 feet to 6000 feet in a few miles it is more damn than dam.

NUMBER SIX: Elevation Sucks.

It might just be me, but climbing from 5 to 6 thousand feet seems to suck a lot more that climbing from 2 to 3 thousand feet.

NUMBER SEVEN: You can add an hour to any given ride and get away with it when you are away from home by telling your wife you got lost.

Yup, when a guy says that he got lost when riding in a new place spouses think it is funny – completely cancelling any negative effects of additional riding time.