Gamjams Reviews: Shoes - Sidi Genius 6.6

Shoe reviews for Gamjams. I'll share the song of the blog up front, because the choice is a punk song by an appropriately named band: "Now's the Time" by Slick Shoes.

Just as you can judge any man, you can similarly judge any cyclist by his shoes. Although not necessarily an indicator of speed, a cyclist with high quality, well-worn shoes always gets my respect. While my fashion sense of street footwear might be underwhelming, I found a classier route for my cycling kicks: pricy italian leather shoes originally designed by Dino Signori.

I posted some info about my shoes back in January, a few months after I first got them - Sidi Genius 6.6s. I'm lazy, so I'm not gonna re-write all of it... but I'll add some thoughts.

In October, I asked my parents to help me get some new cycling shoes for my birthday. My mom jokes that she bought "one shoe," because I ended up getting the pricy Sidi Genius 6.6s. Thanks to an eBay coupon, leftover Paypal cash, and some online liquidations by All American Bicycle Center in Damascus, MD, I bought these at a pretty penny. Hell yes.

When they came in the mail, I even took a cell phone pic so I could brag to my buddies:


For what it's worth, I used to ride with Nike Poggios that I loved. (Tyler Hamilton wore the same model Poggios when he won the stage in the '03 Tour.) The Sidi's are not as light as the Poggios, but the quality and ratchet are well worth the grams.

When I started shoe shopping I picked up some Northwave Aerator 3Vs on a whim off of Chainlove. Their sizing runs absurdly large so I sold them on ebay and didn't lose a dime. The Northwave 43s were immense and way too boofy (they also came with paper-thin soles if you're wondering).

I also tried on a few different Specialized shoes because I liked the Pro Carbon or S-Works models, which I intended to buy, but they were a bit boofier in the toebox than I liked.

I tried on many models of Sidi shoes and they seemed to fit just right. A lot of people tell folks to "size-up" with sidi's because they fit snug or narrow. I think that's kinda BS, because I don't like having extra long or boofy shoes. It's not that my feet are narrow either, I just don't have a volumous foot. I am always between a 9.5 and 10, or 43.5 Euro, and I needed a 43.5 sidi shoe. It was insanely hard to find a good deal on Sidi shoes in half-sizes, but it was well worth the search. I got lucky I guess: Sidi shoes fit great.

I tried them out first in the controlled environment of Catherine's apartment, riding her trainer. After about 12 minutes, the outsides of my feet were seriously in pain, so I stopped and switched the paper-thin stock Sidi insoles for my old Nike insoles. I also put the specialized metatarsal wedges under the soles... and voila! After about 2 more minutes, my feet were fine and dandy.

While the quality of the Sidi shoes is hard to beat, the insoles are trash. Literally, it's a thin layer of some plastic-like material with a fuzzy top. No contour for your foot, no arch support. If you're going to drop cash on Sidi shoes, make sure you leave yourself some change for good insoles. Luckily for me, my old stock Nike insoles work just fine and fit nearly perfectly. I guess Sidi expects any serious cyclist to get their own custom insoles anyways.

My only other complaint is that the heel pad on the bottom of the shoe has twisted on both shoes a good bit. No matter how much I tighten the screw, they'll eventually loosen and twist. I'm not worried. That's the small price you pay for buying shoes that have replaceable parts. Not bad.

A lot of people have told me that I'd never want to go back to any other shoe because of the Sidi "heel cup system." Honestly, I believe that's a gimick, because my old Nike Poggios held my heel in just fine too. The Heel system on the Genius 6.6s I have does not adjust, so it's an extra peice of plastic to make things look neat. Whatever.

The Genius 6.6s have a carbon sole. Sidi says that they design their soles not to be super-stiff, but to support the foot more where necessary and to be comfortable where the foot may need more flexiness. While I'm no masher, I'm confident that the shoes are just about as stiff as anyone would need. For that matter, Sidi is right, the hard soles don't kill my feet either.

If you've seen me riding since I bought these shoes, you'll notice I've been riding with some black knitted Sidi Oversocks no matter what the temperature is. I bought them only to protect the shoes but apparently everyone jokes that they look "pro" too. They're good for those cool-weather days, but not the cold days. You have to limit your walking in them too, because the material on the heel isn't cut out, so it rips fairly easily. I just picked up some of the lycra Sidi Chrono overshoes, in white, no less. They are easier to get on/off and seem more durable on the bottom, since they have stitched cut-outs.

As cyclists, we always joke that it's not about the bike and I'm a definite believer that it's not about equipment. However, I wanna take us back a few years and leave y'all with this:



It's gotta be the shoes!

Thanks for reading.

Filling the void, ass-to-ankles.

Today I was asked a surprisingly easy question to answer, but there's a whole heck of a long explanation behind that simple answer.

Rob Abramo, a freshman triathlete that's been riding with the GW Cycling team for a few months, is also a former rower. He was a member of the LaSalle crew that won the biggest high school regatta in the world - the Stotesbury Cup - his senior year of high school in 2008. Rob picked up triathlons to keep in shape and stay competitive.

When it comes to novice cyclists, few can make the transition into the niche world of cycling as smoothly as rowers. Rob is still somewhat of a scrappy cyclist, but the guy can hang. He rode with myself and a few of my Cat 3/4 NCVC teammates yesterday for 67 miles - just as strong as any of us.

After a 47 mile ride today, Rob asked me what sounded like a pretty simple question. He asked me if I missed rowing.

"All the time."

That answer doesn't do the question justice, and it's not necessarily for Rob that I'm writing this down. There have been plenty of times since 2003, when I stopped rowing, that I've questioned if hanging up the oars was the right decision.

Find something that has been a big part of your life for a long while - whether it's a sport, a hobbie, or maybe a even pet. Now imagine walking away from that thing willingly, on your own accord. Then try to justify with yourself that you're making the right decision to walk away from something you've poured so much energy into for well over five years.

Take this part of your life, then leave it. Walk away with nothing but memories. If you're a rower, let the callouses on the palms of your hand whither away. If you're a cyclist, imagine letting the hair on your legs grow out, and the tanlines you are so proud to call permanent fade away.

I don't want to glorify sport, but for many of us it can be just as much a part of our lives and our personality as the people we surround ourselves with, the food we eat, and the everyday things that make us who we are.

We don't say we ride bikes. We call ourselves cyclists. Well, I was a rower, and I'm proud to say that I still call myself a rower even though I haven't been in a boat in years.

My thoughts and personality have been carved from the sport of rowing. Earlier today, picking up the pace as hard as I f*cking could coming back into town on MacArthur, I was thinking to myself, "Ass to ankles! Ass to ankles! LEGS! Drive the legs! More from the legs!"

Cyclists don't talk like that. We rarely talk or think at all when we're dropping the hammer. Yet it's key phrases like ass-to-ankles, usually yelled through a coxswain's microphone, that run through my mind. They remind me to grind through the pain.

These sports are tough; they make us who we are. A sport can tell us how we define ourselves. How can you justify taking that away? You better have a good reason. And I'm sure you'd question it over and over, because I have many times.

In 2002, I graduated high school after a bittersweet season rowing at Hylton Crew. With a new coach, the Lightweight crew I stroked won 5 races in a row, and then failed miserably to perform at the big regional and national races. As an individual, I had kept my fitness, but failed to break any of my personal records from a stellar and very competitive season the year before.

Today, I told Rob that I had rowed "for fun" the summer after graduating high school. That's a slight understatement. My best friend since childhood and pair in the Lightweight 8, Jim, had left for an Academy. I rowed nearly every morning, in a single scull, for hours - just as Jim and I used to do. I didn't row fast; I just kept rowing. I had nothing better to do.

At GW, out of boredom and for the challenge, I walked onto the crew team after a shit-hot week at tryouts. Rowing all summer had kept me in incredible shape; sculling made me stronger.

After another 8 or 9 months of hard-core rowing and racing, though, things got tough. We had 2 workouts a day, 6 days a week. As a true lightweight (meaning I didn't need to binge or fast), I was fast as hell for my size. But rowing for GW's heavyeight squad put me past my own limits a few too many times in a season. I was brutalized.

Physical burn-out was actually never an issue after rowing at GW. I had improved my rowing and my strength by orders of power. Mentally, though, it was torture to walk into an erg room and get your ass kicked by heavyweights, only because they were taller or bigger. In power-to-weight ratio tests I was only beat by two Varsity guys - both lightweights - that would eventually try out for the Olympic team. (One, Jon D'alba, was on a boat heading for Beijing but lost his seat because of a broken rib.)

Then there were off-the-water issues. My back had been giving me hell since mid-senior year, but I didn't think anything of it. When I was rowing, I felt just fine. My coaches each had less experience in the rowing world than I did, which just didn't make sense to me. I was also on an AFROTC scholarship that was threatened because I always had races on the weekends.

That's how I justify leaving the sport to myself.

I can't remember the last time I rowed or raced on the water. But I remember what I told a friend about why I stopped rowing. After giving so much of your life to such a hard sport, you've got nothing left to give. I had taken a lot from the sport of rowing, and learned a lot about myself, but there was not much more I could take from it at the time.

A part of your life so significant that it has been scarred into the palms of your hands and the backs of your calves doesn't slip away so easily, though. In my training journal (yes, I used to keep one), I wrote down that I wasn't done for good. This was merely to be a hiatus, or a sabbatical from the sport. I still have in itch inside of me that wants to be on the water, in particular racing at the Head of the Charles in Boston. That's one race I never got to do.

Feeling jittery my sophomore year at GW, though, I bought a bicycle. I rode with random groups here and raced a few times at Greenbelt. In my first race, I placed 2nd. I raced for the GW Cycling team a few times, although I wasn't gung-ho obsessed or fast. Like sculling that summer after high school, I just liked the simplicity of a man using a machine to go places, and getting there fast. I've ridden thousands of miles, and it's given me a stronger engine than most guys.

Rob and I agreed - we both missed rowing, but we didn't miss crew. The balance of a team sport like cycling has filled the massochistic void in my legs to go faster. I enjoy working with teammates and challenging each other, but more than that I thrive for the freedom to ride my bike on my own accord, at my own pace, with whomever I want.

My "training" over the past few years (or lack theirof, say my riding pals) has included lots of bike rides, and little structure. It's been very similar to that summer where I just plain rowed around in a boat a heck of a lot. It took me 5 years to be as fast as I was in a boat.

Now, I'm more than excited for my future on the bike, because I'm just getting started. I had never planned on racing bikes, but when my instinct is to encourage my legs to move faster and drive down harder ass-to-ankles, I know I made the right choice.

Who knows if I'll ever get to race in the Head of the Charles, but with open ambitions, I've found new challenges now - on the bike.

And finally, for the song of the blog:

Late last night I was sitting down with my friends
Listening to the radio, then a question was asked
When a kid called in, this is how it goes -
If you only had an hour to live, what would you do?
I looked around at all of my friends, and smiled 'cause they knew.

~ "The Day That I Die" by The Benjy Davis Project

If you're morbidly curious to see Rude Siggy in a boat, I put up a photo-journal of my rowing days on facebook not too long ago. It's not about the pictures, it's about my memories. Thanks for reading.

What kind of cyclist am I? Part II

Over a week ago I asked a few of my riding pals what kind of cyclist they thought I am. After a solid weekend of racing, I really had time to reflect on their responses.

Most said that for an Average Joe Cyclist, I can fly up hills and hold my own in a sprint. I think those kudos put me above most Average Joes, but my buddies all said I was lacking big in one department: structure. It seems to them, I had absolutely no method to my cycling madness.

First, I should mention a few thoughts about what kind of cyclist I think I am. Like many Cat 4 cyclists, I’m a decent athlete. That means that I know how to hang in a lot of situations. Some of us are brash enough to hang tough when things get quick, too. I’d count myself among that population. So I guess I have to narrow it down to what kind of cyclist I’m not.

It’s not something others would notice, but I personally thought my weakness was being nerve-wrecked in a peloton during a race. This past weekend, though, I really felt comfortable in big, aggressive groups. At one point on Saturday I remember thinking “I’m not breathing that hard.”

I'll admit that I was tentative about cornering at speed in the group, but overall I had no issue at these particular races. I realized that I could move around in a pack just fine, too. With 4 laps to go in each race, I was vigilant that I needed to be somewhere and I did just fine in getting to the front.

I also think I’m still lacking a bit of aggressiveness on the bike. Somewhere between being an angst-filled teenage rower and graduating college, my attitude mellowed. At the same time, I feel that I've learned to be more patient. Learning to conserve for big efforts surely makes up for being tentative. But every now and then I get antsy and kick it up. At both Syn-Fit and Dolan, if I was forced in the wind, I was not going to drag the group around. If I’m suffering in the wind, someone else is going to be in a world of hurt chasing me.

My teammate Dave K and I recently chatted about the dynamics of racing in MABRA's Cat 4 category. It's interesting how many guys we see out there racing to their weaknesses. We hear guys "planning" to sit-in until 3 laps to go, when they'll start fighting for positioning and "see how it goes" on the line. I don't want to be that type of cyclist. I want to be a guy that focuses on his strengths and capitalizes on proactive efforts. We've all heard it before: Race your strengths, train your weaknesses.

There’s the fun irony. According to my buddies, my weakness is training itself.

I've taken to heart the advice that my cycling pals gave me. Nearly all of them said that my cycling was too unstructured, and I needed to start "periodizing" my training. I honestly don’t think it’s that bad at all – and I’ll explain why – but I’m still going to set out to improve the structure of my riding.

For some time now, I’ve had the philosophy that training should never replace or overwhelm riding. Because I’m having so much fun naturally going fast and racing, I want to get better. So, as I adopt a slightly different regiment, I am making the promise to myself that I won’t let the attitude of training overwhelm me. I am not paid for forced to ride; I choose to ride for fun, so when riding my bicycle starts feeling like a chore, I’m going to rethink any approach to more aggressive improvement. I still just want to have fun, while staying fit. That’s my first objective. Being competitive, although second nature, is secondary.

Where’s the method to my madness?

Now, I'm not going to be so resistant to the criticisms I received and claim that I am good in the department of periodizing my training and structuring workouts. I know I’m not. All of their viewpoints show me that I don’t make it even remotely noticeable that I think about my fitness whatsoever.

While I don’t train by the numbers, I make sure to have objectives to specific rides and follow some basic philosophies on endurance training. Even though I don’t race as often as most guys my speed, I keep the racer’s mentality on when I am on my bike.

I do have seemingly unstructured training, but I believe that if you're familiar with the “periodization” philosophy from endurance sport, with enough discipline you can train your body to do any other endurance sport. Throughout the past year I’ve known that I wanted to race my bike more often, so I went about riding with that in mind.

A week ago I asked my friend Mark Parrett what he suggested I start with, and he said that it's probably more worth it for me to spend $15 bucks on a book then $100 per month on a coach. I wholeheartedly agreed, so on his recommendation I got the Cyclist's Training Bible by Joe Friel.

As it turns out I do the basics just fine – by the book. Ride long base miles throughout the winter to build an aerobic base? Check. Matching your ride distances and times to that of your longest races? Got it. Faster, shorter, more intense workouts as you get closer to races? Yep. Adequate rest? Oh hell yes. If there is one thing I'm good at, it's making a lazy ass out of myself.

Throughout the winter I was riding only twice a week – usually only on weekends with pretty slow rides varying between 40 and 60 miles, over a few hours. One week during my holiday vacation, I put myself through a house-arrest training camp, riding over 400 miles in 8 days with just as much time in front of the TV.

Between weekends, I’d try to log one interval workout on the trainer. Mixed luck there, because I wasn’t so motivated to ride indoors. If the temperatures agreed, I did get out with the lamp on my handlebars occasionally.

After the weather started cooperating, I started doing a few group rides, but never more than once a week in a group worthy of sitting in and wheelsucking. In mid-February, I entered my longest road-race yet, the 54-mile Wolfpack Road Race in North Carolina. Knowing this was a step up for me, I went into the race with a modest goal: finish competitively with the group.

I did just that, but realized that for such a long road race, I was going to need to log more long miles so my legs wouldn’t cramp up. I adjusted: throughout the next few weekends between Wolfpack and Jeff Cup, I logged more long miles on weekends completing an 80 miler with 3 teammates one weekend, many moderately paced 50+ milers with Catherine, and taking a trip out to the Lost River Barn with some faster NCVC guys to seriously challenge myself on a mountainous 70-miler. Between these jaunts, I frequented the team’s moderately-aggressive espresso ride to get comfortable taking pulls in a group, and chasing people down for a meaningless sprint.

It’s April now, so everyone who’s ridden with me knows what I’m doing on Thursday nights: sprint intervals at Hains point. While some may call it dangerous (it can be), I play things the right way. I’m either in the wind or off the back. It’s a workout from hell, and it’s the only ride that mimics a race situation so well that also fits my schedule.

Last week I logged over 30 miles in the Hains sprints, then raced two criteriums. I called it my speed week. This week, I’m staying away from any serious TITS (time in the saddle, as The Muscle says) until Saturday. I did an indoor core workout last night, but the legs have the week off.

Now, on to my lazy-assedness. A lot of people think that if you're off the bike, you're recovering. I think that's bullsh*t. Although I may not sleep on the weekdays as much as I should, when I ride, I sleep like a baby. But more than that, when I ride, I make a lazy ass out of myself. Anyone that doesn't see me ride my bike would think I'm a couch potato – because I am.

I am great at doing nothing. There is a good chance that if you find me after a long or hard ride, I'm sitting on the couch with my feet up and eating food. I may be awake, but I'm totally relaxed and usually just watching tv, listening to music, or doing this sort of blog stuff. No doing laundry, no cleaning, no walking through a shopping mall. Nothing. It’s therapeutic physically and mentally.

Usually, because of my work schedule, the week gets easier as it moves along. This means that I log probably 90% of my riding between Thursday and Sunday. I start with short, hard interval workouts during the weeknights (like the sprints) and finish off with longer rides on the weekends. Usually those include a race-pace surge here or there.

When I go to work on Monday after a few days of riding, guess what I do: I sit at a desk with my feet perched up on a hidden ledge. I really have convinced myself that having a desk job has benefitted my legs. If I was a mailman, my recovery would suck.

A lot of this may seem like BS to some people, but I’m not just matching what I’ve done to what Friel or any other coach preaches. Either way, it is what it is and I feel confident, so it's also psychological. I've always told myself that in order to perform well, you have to truly believe you have done everything possible to prepare yourself. Without that confidence, you're playing darts blindfolded.

(Some people focus this mindset on having the best equipment. I disagree. You definitely have to be confident in your equipment, but you just need solid, good equipment that won’t fail you. As long as you have confidence in your equipment, your body will always be the biggest variable. I believe that you have to show up on raceday with the belief that your body is as solid as your bombproof wheels or stiff carbon frame. Anything less and you might as well start the race with a flat tire.)

If it isn’t obvious through these thoughts, throughout the winter and early spring I’ve made many decisions that were directly related to how I felt on the bike. None of this was written down, but it wasn’t entirely unstructured.

Now let me drop the defensive attitude. The boys spoke, and I’ve answered. But their advice means that I can definitely find room for improvement. So here’s what I’m going to set about to do to refine the engine:

Prioritize races with training. This is obviously first and foremost. I’m focusing on a few key races as my goals, but I need to match them with my riding patterns. In addition to the criteriums I just did, I am going to find an extra race or two so I can gauge how I’m racing against my fellow Cat 4s before those races, and continue to adjust my riding.

Look at a calendar. I have a month between most of my races, so I’ll sprinkle a criterium here or there as part of the training and I can use it as I did this weekend – speed work. While I hate the concept of total off-the-bike recovery and tapering, I’ll definitely tone down TITS and intensity before key races. I hope to coincide these easy weeks with other stuff going on in my life so I don’t get bored and jittery. Maybe I’ll even go as far as writing down my plans, but don’t push it.

Eat breakfast. I’ve been doing fairly well with this over the past few months, but as a kid and in college my stomach would revolt if I shoved any food down before 11AM (and nobody wanted to be that kid taking a dump in the high school bathrooms). So, I’ve been improving by eating at least a clif or protein bar, some yogurt or apple sauce, and drinking either soy milk or juice. For me, stomaching even those measly rations is tough. It’s a work in progress.

Regulate sleep. I’ve got to get my ass into gear with sleep patterns. I stay up late because I’ve always stayed up late and now I literally cannot fall asleep early unless I’ve pooped myself out. It’s like walking your dog just so he won’t chase his own tail. I need to discipline myself to get a full night’s rest.

Core work. To help me “walk the dog” and burn extra energy, I’m going to do more core work on the days I don’t ride my bike. My body’s gotten weak since I’ve only been cycling, and I want to improve that. Having a stiff lower back halfway through last weekend’s races convinced me: this has to be done.

I’m definitely open to your comments and suggestions, and I appreciate the candid comments that my buddies left me. If you’ve got any other advice or tricks you all like, feel free to share them with me and the rest of the Gamjams community (if anyone read this far). I’ll leave you with one final thought - the song-of-the-blog:

Have you ever felt that something,
You know that something that keeps you sane?
And you can't explain why,
But you know it's what's left inside you
…
And when I say it's everything –
From my highest hopes to my dumbest schemes,
You'll never know what it means to me.

~ “Motto” by Less Than Jake.

Thanks for reading.

This one's for the G-Dub Cycling Team

Just figured I'd share and email I sent out to the GW cycling team yesterday morning. One thing to note is that Dan Schwartz has only been racing bikes for a year. In the collegiate system, any novice can make a run at this sport.



Team,

As an alum that watched has watched this team grow from nothing - I wanted to share a few thoughts and congratulations with the team.

I want to extend my big congratulations to Dan Schwartz for a stellar season. Flying solo in nearly all of his races, he still managed to win two events in the Men's C category, placing in the top 10 in nearly all of his races. Yesterday at the Conference Championship Criterium, Dan placed third. He was later awarded the Division 2 Men's C Champion jersey for winning the season-long points competition. Chapeau, Dan!

Finally - if you see Lauren Peterson around campus (or at a bar after Law finals), give that girl a huge pat on the back and buy her a drink. Four years ago as undergrads LP and I joined this squad - both of us as complete bike-racing novices. Adding her stint at GW Law, she has now raced bikes for GW Cycling for over four years. Lauren has put a big part of her life (and her checkbook) into running this team and making sure that it didn't fall through during some rebuilding years. With Dan leading the team now, let's build on the enthusiasm of our two zealous teammates and take it into tomorrow, next semester, and next year.

So we can all enjoy the rain and hailstorms today, but Dan Schwartz and I have some work to do our bikes - starting Saturday - and you're all invited to join.

Chapeau, G-dub.

-sig.

Race Report: Carl Dolan Circuit, Cat 3/4

First, a rant: I hate mornings, and waking up at 6AM to drive out to Bumf*ck, MD was miserable. There is plenty of daylight nowadays so I don't know why we do this sh*t so early in the morning. Heck, I'm sorry for the master's that had an 8AM start time (but whatever, they always try to find an excuse to get back home to their families).

ANYWAYS, the race went well. The short story is that I lead out two of my Cat 3 teammates, the Kendall brothers, and drained my tank during the last lap. I finished mid-to-rear pack, 24th among the Cat 4s.

The long version:

From the get-go I was doing well. I had a hard 3-lap warmup and had a starting position on the line, in front of most of my 130+ competitors. By far, this was the biggest race I'd entered in terms of number of competitors. Luckily about 10% of those guys were on my team.

On the second lap, I surfed a few wheels to get farther up on the outside. I ended up in second wheel behind my boy Dan Drumwright from R1V, and he was slowing down a bit. I passed him and said, "Let's have some fun" and jumped. It was pointless, but if I was going to be stuck in the wind, I was going to make someone else pay for it, too.

We had me (NCVC), Dan (R1V), and an ABRT/Latitude guy with us. Not bad representation but there were way too many folks today. We stuck out the futile effort for only half a lap, and were caught around the turn.

A few laps later, I see D-Wis cover a break of 6 or 7 guys that got a bit of a gap. Well played on his part, but no breaks got away. With 130 guys in the mix, you were going to get caught.

Since I'd taken my turn in the wind, I sat in the rest of the race. I wheelsucked and wheelsurfed and just tried to stay comfy. About halfway through I realized I needed to fight my way left, because I was pretty far back. It took a few laps but I managed to get in the front third of the race - on the outside - and stick it there.

Interlude: There is a young Artemis kid today that damn near crashed the field at least two or three times. Someone's gotta teach him some skillz. You can have crazy nice wheels, a nice bike, strong legs and an ugly purple skin suit, but it won't make you a good bike rider. Get with it. I realize I'm a dick for saying it, but someone's gotta get that kid's crap together. (Word is that this is the same kid that posts his arms up for 30th place. It's unsafe and arrogant.)

Okay, I vented. Back to the race.

With 3 to go I was wheelsucking Steve Kendall, my junior teammate that's also a Cat 3. With 2 to go we were up there with his brother, Brad, who also just upgraded to 3. I told Brad to get out of the middle and catch my wheel with about 3/4 of a lap to go. Steve caught his wheel.

I drilled it and brought them up to the front and we were about 4-5 riders back from the train on the right. Great positioning. Then I heard from behind Brad yell "Go!" and I kicked it into another gear past the train on the right, flying by them. I drilled it for a good half-mile, all-out, draining my tank.

Before the final turn, Brad came past me with Steven two wheels back. I managed to jump in the line again, and when I looked back it was beautiful. It was an awesome site to have been yanking a huge race like that along so near the finish.

The three of us flew through the turn, but the random dude on Brad's wheel didn't, forcing Steve into the wind. Brad and Steve jumped way early with 1k to go, and I was back on the front (I don't know how that happened). I tried to act like I was actually pulling to let a gap form, but a few folks came around fast.

At 500m I got swarmed, finishing next to my teammate Chris Carraway, who threw his bike on the line to get past me (dick!). Where was he?

Steve ended up taking 5th, Brad finished somewhere ahead of me.

All-in-all, it was a pretty fun race but there were some sketchy moments (re: Artemis). At one point a ref relegated a guy to the back of the peloton from the center of the group. That was dumb, because it caused all sorts of slow sketchiness with 2 laps to go. Still, the fact that nobody hit the pavement in a 3/4 race with 130+ riders is unimaginable. Feeling pretty lucky, I passed on my high-waitlisted position for the 4/5 race.

Great weekend of racing.

Race Report: Syn-Fit Criterium, Cat 4

Wow! It was a beautiful day to be racing bikes in Chantilly, VA today. Hell yes.

Aside from a severe lack of Porta-Johns for pre-race poos, Evolution Cycling put on a great criterium. Last year, I liked the Cold Toes Training Series they hosted and today's Syn-Fit crit just impressed me more (minus the porta johns, which were not as abundant as racers needed).

Maybe it was the weather, maybe it was that the Cat 4 field behaved (for the most part). So here's how things went:

Abridged version: Took 6th place and won $10. (Hey, it's something.)

I thought the race started pretty conservatively, but my computer pooped out after 12 minutes and when I checked after the race, it said 26.4 for that stint. A few attacks went after a crash on the third lap but nothing stuck. Nothing. I think the longest breakaway was my boy D-Wis, who was off solo for nearly 2 laps. Heck, it took a while for people to realize he was up the road because he was hugging the gutter.

With 9 laps left, I had finally fought my way out of the inside of the pack, moving to the left with the help of teammate Dave K. Being a prime lap, I put myself into good position but was surprised that nobody was speeding things up. So I put in a bit of a dig for the intermediate sprint.

I passed my teammate Geoff R. and told him to follow me. I jumped about 200 meters before the turn. When I looked back, there was a gap between Geoff and I, and he ended up dragging the field back up to me, well, kinda. With 100 meters before that sprint Dan Drumwright from R1V and two Bike Rack guys stormed by. I think Bike Rack took the prime.

I floated left so when the field passed, I'd be on the outside line. I didn't realize it but the four of us had created a bit of a gap with one fifth rider not too far behind. We probably could have made a break stick for a few, but none of us had those intentions.

Throughout the race, a bunch of my teammates tried to break away in the wind, none of us with much success. I know Geoff, Drew, Chris C., Chris A., and myself all hit the wind hard but eventually got swarmed. Oh well, that's how it goes in a dead flat MABRA Cat 4 crit.

Skip to 5 laps to - the pace was consistent and I was feeling very comfortable, sticking to the outside. My boy Chris C. and I started to "play shadow" and make sure we helped each other out, sticking the left side of the course because the right inside lines did not move whatsoever. We passed D-Wis with 4 to go so I yelled to him "Wisniewski, go with Chris!" He did, and we managed to stick together from there on out. Junior racer Chris A. was nearby as well watching our tail. Not bad.

Dave K went through with his plan to crank up the pace of the race with 4 laps to go. It was perfect, because when he came off the front, Bike Rack took over and it was a beautiful battle of speed. Too beautiful for my team, almost.

Dave K then lead Drew, then Chris C., and myself on outside left lane with the front train of Bike Rack guys hauling @$$. Geoff, another NCVC dude, managed to storm behind their train. Perfect - we had two separate cards to play.


Bike Rack had a great final two laps (obviously I was impressed, kudos to them). Dave K eventually popped and disappeared, which put D-Wis in the wind. He sucked it up and rolled until about 3/4 of a lap to go, but Chris had let a gap form and some wheelsucker cut Chris off. Eventually I was yelling like a maniac for Chris to go. "MORE MORE MORE!" We needed to be farther up, but Chris was kicked too. Bike Rack really kept the pace high enough so nobody could come around.

With less than half a lap, at about the same place I attacked for the prime, I kicked it into high gear now working against the wind myself, on the outside. Anyone hoping to podium had to go through that final turn near the first few guys or there was no chance. I managed to go scarily fast and wide through the turn, in fifth wheel.

The few boys in front of me had one heck of a kick, gapping me a bit, and some dude stormed passed me immediately after the turn, too. I looked back, and sprinted for 6th place pretty easily with a few guys not too far behind me. I didn't necessarily have a powerful punch but the positioning through that last turn had more to do with it, I just needed to be farther up.

Overall, I'm super happy with the race because I felt confident, strong, and recovered well after my unsuccessful kick for a prime. It was a quick race, too. Dave K and D-Wis both said we averaged around 26 MPH. Nice. I'll take an upright 6th place finish any day, and hey, I won $10. Not much but not bad, my first points and my first cash.


I posted the pictures that Catherine and I took of each other's races - women's and men's Cat 4 - on my facebook account. If you're not on facebook you can check out the public link here. (Feel free to email me if you'd like any of the pictures.)

See y'all at Dolan tomorrow. It's gonna be an early f*#@ing morning.

Friday Ramblings: Warming up for the Crits

With two big races this weekend, the Syn-Fit Criterium and the Carl Dolan Circuit Race, it's a good week of speed work for me. As I see it, every week in the spring develops my legs for later in the year. Yesterday I had a great workout at Hains point, where it seemed that many of the local club cyclists had the same idea - refining our engines before the races this weekend.

Sometimes I blog to rant, but sometimes I do this for my own recollection. Today, I'd rather just jot some thoughts about the sprints ride at hains last night so I remember a few of the details of how things went for me.

First of all, I was super happy to see a bunch of familiar faces out there. Lance Anderson from the Bike Rack with a lineup of his boys, Dan Drumwright with a handful of R1V/Arrow guys, Super Dave and a few other Artemis folks, and a whole slew of Coppi guys too. I was rolling with my NCVC boys which included Chris Chapel and Chris Carraway, the new but strong Cat 5 Andrew, and a bunch of other folks who came out for our team's "sprints" night. Eventually D-Wis showed up too, which is always I nice wheel to grab.

Most significantly to me was how my friend Colin Herron, who works at BPS, finally came out to the sprints with us. (He was rolling incognito in an all-black verge kit.) While most of us are riding and racing on the weekends, he's always working at the shop, so it was awesome to be out riding with him again. The guy loves bikes more than most people I know, so it's fun to ride with someone that has such a natural springiness in his legs. Especially when he sprints. Unfortunately, he's one of the few riders that is smaller than myself, so he's not the best wheel to grab.

After a few laps of the group really rolling, things smoothed out a bit - or at least as smooth as things go for Hains point. Everyone seemed to want to keep the speed at a touch above afterburner, and the stragglers got eliminated. Hey, it happens. The teams were randomly taking turns at the front on the backside of the peninsula to keep things moving, and you could really see teammates working together since there were 4-5 guys from a number of squads.

I would try to stay safely near the very front of the group on the backside of the loop, then shimmy back into the group for a good spot on the sprintside just so I wouldn't get dropped. It seemed to work pretty wheel, except one time when I jumped back into 3rd or 4th position, and then promptly got swarmed. At that point, I turned off the engine and watched the mayhem. Lotsa guys were sprinting for umpteenth place at Hains point. Kinda crazy, but hey, feed your ego. I won't sprint at Hains if I'm not gonna have a chance getting to the line in the top few wheels. Anyways, I maturely played it safe, chatting at the back with Colin.

In one of the sprints, Nathan Wilson (or some other crazy strong, skinny kid in a Kelly Benefits kit), pulled up on the left side of the group, aiming to get farther up for the sprint. Nobody was on his wheel, so I followed him up. It was a perfect wheel to surf; this kid is crazy strong. He attacked hellishly early with his token flailing-bike sprint, but I stayed on his wheel. Rarely have I seen someone move their legs that fast on a bike that is flailing left and right so much, he must have been at 150 RPMs. Yet his torso never moved. This meant I got a beautiful draft (re: I wheelsucked his skinny butt), and when he sat down, I stood up for a few pedal strokes before the line, passing him, and nobody else was nearby. Man, that kid can roll.

In at least two or three of the laps, I worked on just plain sucking wheel. For one lap I wheelsucked SuperDave the entire lap. The man is huge, strong, and knows where to ride. I was mimicking him and had to be pretty aggressive to keep his wheel as he moved around, but I managed pretty well. On two other laps I shadowed my teammate Chris Chapel. The guy positions himself well, and I love riding behind him when he's near the front of a group with his headphones on. He'll have 30 guys sucking air drafting behind him, but he'll be low on the drops yelling out the lyrics to whatever song is on his iPod. Classic.

At the end of one sprint, I jumped passed a few guys to get to the line first. But an R1V guy kicked it up in the last 20-30 meters and threw his bike after I'd sat up. It was inconsequential and too close to call, but it was a good reminder for me never to give up before crossing the line. You can never be too sure. Yeah, this is Hains so I like to play things safely for my well-being's sake, but hey, it's also practice. Finish strong. Kinda dumb of me, too - I was all the way on the left and just had to peak right and would have seen him easily.

The final sprint for me was around 7:30 PM after about 30 miles in the quick group. There were 4 NCVC guys up front, and I was near the back of that train with at least another teammate behind me. There were 2 other guys in the line, so I had pretty good positioning for a lead-out. One of our guys attacked from behind (don't know why), and Chris Chapel chased him down, creating a gap. The guys in front of me cracked so I got stuck in the wind. Instead of speeding up to catch them, I let them sit about 50 feet in front of me. I kept my pace consistent, down low, but they weren't getting away. Some Bike Rack guys saw my "block," albeit at 27-28 mph, and stormed the left side. I jumped on their wheels.

After they bridged up, dragging me, I took off like a criminal. I didn't have a confident jump or much energy to do that, so I stayed seated. I felt strong as hell sprinting early a la Cancellara and nobody kept up to the line. Of all people, my buddy Dan Drumwright from R1V came up behind me and patted me on the back. A good way to end the day. I looked up to Dan's strengths as a sprinter, so that was pretty cool.

To add to the mood, one of my favorite pump-me-up songs came on my iPod's shuffle:

I laugh and slip into another state of mind,
To let you know that I am real.
And all the worries you build up inside your soul,
The ones that make your world stand still,
Mean you can feel when its time to go.

Today's song of the day: Time by Blind Melon.

I rode over 30 miles in the group last night, and as my UMD buddy Mike Brindza says about me, it probably wasn't the smartest thing to do before a race weekend. But I can justify it because this entire weekend to me will make me strong in the long run. Call it "racing into shape" if you want, I just see it as training. I don't have specific goals in these particular races; I just want to contend, be competitive, and finish confidently. If I can have even half as confident of a ride as I did at Sunday's Espresso ride and last night's sprint ride, that'll be awesome.

So why'd I go hard last night, Mike? In international rowing, the Danish Lightweight Four was notorious for being unbeatable in competition. When asked how they did it, one of the rowers said that they treat every day in practice like it's the world championships. That way, on raceday, you can have an average or bad day and still feel confident as hell. Knowing that every Cat 4 race in MABRA is sketchy as hell, well, if I can get through hains near the front with the rubber-side-down, I'm feeling pretty good. The workout was a challenge, but it didnt' nearly kill me for the weekend. Yesterday, along with these next few days, will sure as hell help my speed for the rest of the season, though.

Thanks for reading this entry. I realize it was more of a journal, but I hope you enjoyed the ride too. See you all in Chantilly tomorrow and Columbia, MD on Sunday.

GamJams Reviews: Floor Pumps - Hurricane Max

Floor pumps? Really now? C'mon Mike, we have better things to talk about!

Jokes buddy. No sweat.

Name a peice of equipment and I'll review it. However, a floor pump doesn't matter to me. Air is air, and luckily it's free, so no matter what little costly mechanism puts air in my tires, I'll get to ride my bike.

A floor pump won't win - or even lose - a race. It won't even make you faster, or even more confident, as long as it works. Even if it doesn't work, I've never met a cyclist that was so stubborn they wouldn't let you borrow some air from their pump.

Personally, I have a pump in the back of my car that I often lend to even my competitors. I've had it for at least 3-4 years and never think much about it as long as it's there.

On the tube shaft it says "Hurricane Max" and after a bit of googling, it comes up as either a really big storm that wrecked the Eastern Pacific, or a Performance Bike product. (Sorry Terry and all you other Performance haters, but I would rather spend money on equipment that matters, and back in the day I was pretty thrifty and ignorant.) On MTBR, it's a 1.8 on a scale of 1 to 5. That doesn't look good.

But the pump is a pump. I don't know what criteria you'd use to rate these things. There's nothing good about it, to be honest. Yet I will reneg and also share that it's never failed me and it's lasted this long without a problem - knock on wood. I got it because I needed Presta and Schrader valves, and this one has both without any unscrewing or flipping necessary. Not bad.

There are two other pumps in the stash of Catherine's equipment that I use often too. Well, one, I don't use so much because the valve clip lever snaps back so fast after you disengage is that it has smashed my fingernails one too many times before rides. Not cool. That pump is a Wrench Force.

The other one's a Serfas TCGP. It's a bit better, but like my Hurricane pump, it takes some tweaking of the valve lever thingie to seal it on the tube's valve. Both the Serfas and Wrench Force only have one valve, so if you had Schrader valves on your mountain bike's tubes it would take some messin' with.

So, all of these pumps, and they all work. They all put air in the tires. I guess I hate one because it's a vicious finger-smasher, but even that one still fills a tube. So, on a level of performance, they are all equals. Therefore, my final conclusion is this: since I don't know how much any of them cost, at least two of the three are overpriced.

What kind of cyclist am I? You tell me.

There's a new Gamjams poll up today, and it got me thinking about what type of cyclist I am.

All the pro's seem to have a specialty: stickly climbers, trunk-legged sprinters, breakaway specialists, or pain-tolerating rolleurs and TT specialists. With only a handful of races under my belt, I'm a pretty strong Cat 4, so I'm not sure that I have a specialty yet. Heck, I'm not sure that any Cat 4 should have a specialty. If you're a Cat 4 or 5, you probably have room to improve all-around.

Instead of tootin' my own horn or getting down about how much ergs have scarred my motivation to train by the numbers, I asked a motley bunch of my training pals to tell me what kind of cyclist they think I am. I know that I'm exposing some vulnerabilities here, but hey, it's educational. And it sure isn't as terrifyingly, pervertedly personal as Kyle's blog was tonight. (Hahahahaha!)

I went to a few my training pals, former GW teammates, current NCVC teammates, mentors, and even my girlfriend to see what they'd all say. For the record, although I shortened a few of the responses and corrected some spelling, I edited no context.

So here's the skinny:

I have to think about that one. Weaknesses are pretty tough because I have yet to see you crack-you won the sprint yesterday and you seem to be one of the strongest climbers for a cat 4 I have seen. Maybe next time we go for a ride I'll make a point of finding your breaking point... I may need some serious help for that though. Come out to the Goon a few times and we can see.

In general I have enjoyed riding with you because you seem to keep a good sense of perspective and a good sense of humor about things on and off the bike. You seem to have fun while still pushing yourself to improve and be as good as you can, which is a fine balance that I think a lot of people fail to achieve at this level of the sport. I think the fact that you and your girlfriend ride together and you have no problem dropping each other is awesome and pretty funny.
~Geoff R., NCVC Cat 4 teammate


I'd describe you as a developing all-arounder. I have seen you climb with the best of them, you have a bigger engine than apparent (probably from rowing) and despite your tendency to whine about the weather can roll through the worst conditions.
~ Nate H., NCVC Cat 4 teammate


I'd describe you as a "work in progress." You're strong, but you haven't quite figured out what to do with it yet. That strength will get you through being a 4 just fine, but if you want to move up to the 3s or further, win races, or decisively impact a race, you're going to need to race and train in a way to make that happen. I notice that you ride a lot of steady, relatively fast miles, but don't use a structured training plan--intervals aren't "fun," but they are the building blocks for being competitive. This is a tough, sometimes very dangerous sport--you gotta be out there to win or really help your team win, or else it's not worth the risk.
~ Drew A., NCVC Cat 3 teammate


You're a combination between group ride leader and unfocused racer. You're always up for a ride. Doesn't matter what the conditions, length, time of day, area, terrain. As long as others are going, so will you. And you can usually talk a bunch of them into coming along with you. There is no ride too easy or hard. As long as you're on the bike, it's fun. You have dreams of winning races, but due to a total lack of a planned training regiment will probably win about as many as me (that's none, unless we get lucky). Got a race on saturday, but want to destroy your legs in thursday sprints? Sure, Bert's up for it. It's December, and every one else is cruising along for a couple of hours every day? Not Bert, who feels like going ridiculously fast for a while. In March, when everyone's throwing up 4 times a week from VO2 max and 20 minute intervals? Not Bert, who's working late.

You are and will always be notoriously hard to drop in rides and races. Unlike most cat 4's, you're a crafty little bastard who knows what his legs can do, and uses this to your advantage. Because you just don't put the energy into designing a training plan, or finding the right coach, or racing to your strengths, you'll never really go that far ahead of less talented guys like me (but you'll still squeak by most of the time).
~ Mike B., UMD cat 4/C, former GW rower, riding buddy


On your group rides, you're a strong climber and sprinter. In races, you don't tend to have quite enough left for the sprint, in which case you make a decent lead-out. These two (plus your lack of repeated explosiveness uphill) together would suggest that you have a high capacity for suffering (a Levi-type), BUT I wouldn't think you'd be phenomenal at TTs. You treasure and capitalize on any opportunities to rest and recover, and you need it. So, maybe you're the guy the team sends out there to put the beat down on everyone else periodically. Definitely a road racer who favors hilly races and likes mid-sprints if not trying to contest the final sprint. Not a crit or TT specialist. Maybe you're like a Damiano Cunego in training.
~ Catherine M, GWU Cat 4 (Just a caveat --> THE Girlfriend. Yes, she was that girl in the Duke kit yesterday.)


"Problem #1 and only: you don't buy enough high end bicycle components."
~ Colin H., former GWU Cat 4 teammate/friend (he works at BPS)


"The name Sigberto Garcia always struck me as that of a Euro-pro. As a complete noob to cycling at the beginning of last year he took me under his wing and showed me what riding and racing is all about. Racing with Bert in my second race at a drenched training crit in Chantilly, I learned not to pack it up even when the conditions suck and instead to make the best of them. When it comes to his riding style, hes fast and doesn't need the numbers on a computer to prove it, he rides smart and always beats me to the D.C. line no matter how hard I try."
~ Dan S., GWU cycling Cat 4, training pal and protege


"You are Paolo Bettini. Not particularly intimidating, but keeps beating the sprinters in the sprints and the climbers in the climbs. Also things that come to mind are that you regularly piss me off when I'm out of shape. This is both a compliment and an insult. On the one hand you should really start periodizing your training so you can get faster. On the other hand it is always nice to beat up on everyone else who sat on the couch all winter."
~ Mark Parrett, Princeton/GWU/Colavita, former Cat 2


I wanna thank my riding pals for helping me out with this blog and being good sports. As a token of my appreciation, I'm gonna shut up and leave it at that - no quibbling. However, I will probably follow up with a few thoughts on how to use these notions and gain a bit of speed. (If you wanna add your $0.02, feel free to post a commment, but you should know that I approve 'em all before they go live.)

Oh, one quibble though, to Nate: I whine about the weather a ton, but at least I showed up Saturday. Jens Voigt would have been proud.

Thanks for reading.

Friday Ramblings: Horner, Hains, and Happy Easter

"He was chasing down breaks with a finger in his nose."

Don't we all just wish we could casually pick our noses while chasing attacks? According to Astana Sport Director Sean Yates, Chris Horner can.

That line is from Yates describing Chris Horner's fitness after hardily recovering from an injury he sustained at the Tour of California. Unfortunately, he hurt himself again this week by sliding under a guard rail, but I hope that Horner - one of my favorite riders - will recover in time for the grand tours.

In my mind, if there is any pro that genuinely loves his job, it's Chris Horner, no doubt. The guy is always smiling, and has some of the more creative victory salutes among the pro peloton:

Horner has earned his stripes racing in the states, then getting beat in Europe, then back to the states in a dominating fashion, and finally finding his niche in Europe again. Good riders get respect, and there's no doubt Horner's earned respect in the peloton from more men than Yates. It's almost unfortunate that he's on a team of other well respected names: Contador. Leipheimer. Kloden. And a guy named Armstrong.

What amazes me is how happy Chris Horner always seems to be on a bike, even when everyone is going through hell. (The guy is smiling all the time.) We can't forget when Horner literally carried a felow cyclist (with the guy's broken bike) across the uphill finish line the same week his team had been unjustly barred from Le Tour:


He's so happy, and it makes him seem young. It's reflected in Yates' allusion to Horner as a boy picking his nose, but he's no minor at 37 years old.

When I started following along with all the MABRA madness, I started realizing there were a lot of Chris Horners out there locally. No, these guys weren't ProTour riders. They weren't fighting for a spot in the tour, or on the US Olympic team (which Horner definitely deserved, sorry Mr. McCartney).

Here in MABRA there just seem to be a lot of guys in their mid-to-late 30s that just love riding their bikes. And they love riding their bikes fast. You can find them all over: Goon ride. Hains. Courier jobs.

There are few other sports that adults can compete in. And I'm not talking about kickball clubs or office softball tournaments. (Or golf, which is not at all physically demanding.) I'm talking about dedicated competitions that can make tough men puke and cry in a day's effort.

Most of us played little league or soccer as kids, but we grow out of that. There's a lucky bunch of us that found road cycling and got hooked. A good fraction of those addicts have been racing bikes for years - in the not-so-little leagues of amateur cycling. They treat this sport as serious stuff, it's work - not play. It's an attitude I'm still getting accustomed to because at the end of the day, it's still bike riding.

On the other extreme, there are lot of adults that just want to get back in shape. They pick up three sports - triathlons - because "it's a challenge." But competing against yourself in three sports is no more of a challenge than excelling against your peers in one.

What baffles me is that so many of these trendathletes pick up the sport (or three) for no other reason than to do something athletic. While I respect the healthy lifestyle of getting your ass off the couch, I'd like to ask every one of them: Do you even enjoy riding your bike?

Heck, there are tons of cyclists that need to answer the same darn question, too. I'd rather ride my bike with Old Man Schenley, bless his ole' heart, than a twerp that can't enjoy his ride because his SRM won't unf*ck itself.


When I stopped rowing, I did so because I had given so much of my life to the sport, that I could no longer take much from it. I'd grown up as a rower, but six years into the tough sport I was just chasing split times and erg test numbers. Crew had stripped my love for the sport of rowing away.

Nowadays, I do miss it. There are very few bike rides now where I don't think "it would be a beautiful day on the river." But I don't regret it. I knowingly stay away from "zones" and powermeters (not that I wouldn't want one) because I don't want to inevitably chase numbers.

I want to enjoy riding my bike and if I can do that competitively, all the much better. Last night at Hains was a good example of how hard work and love of the game can collide.

I expected to find a decent group for the usual sprints. There was no such peloton, so I jumped into a group of a dozen or so guys. When Mike Githens from Artemis Elite took off, a few of us managed to follow - myself, Lance from Bike Rack with his teammate Tim, and a guy named Scott from R1V.

Tim and I had a funny argument when that group formed. He attacked at one point, and his teammate sat up and cut me off as if to not chase down his own man. I yelled at him that we weren't racing, and to get out of my way. I bridged up to Tim, and then he tried to pull off. I was gassed, so then Tim yells at me to pull through, and I physically couldn't.

Then Tim and I start arguing about the ethics of who should have pulled, and how this is Hains, so it doesn't matter anyways. We were now cruising at 28 in a five-man rotation, so the other guys ignored our bickering and started to pull through as well. Eventually Mike and Lance bashed egos for the imaginary line.

Tim and I both started laughing, because we realized we'd dropped everyone except those three other guys. We started chatting a bit, and had a pretty good time from then on. That little group stuck together for another lap or two at full gas. Even with three races so far this year, it was probably some of the hardest riding I'd done. We all got some great breakaway practice in - a small group rotating at 26+ mph for a while. Mike took that first sprint, Lance the next one, and then I took the third (after Mike had left).

So I got to mix it up - some fun riding, but at race-pace speed to test the engine. That's what's ideal for me. Scott, the R1V guy, mentioned how hard it is to convince yourself to do intervals. I couldn't disagree. That's why I show up at Hains for suicidal Thursday rides. I love riding my bike, but I want to make sure that if I'm going to race, I'm ready for it. So I'm going to bash egos with good guys like Tim that are out there to do the same thing.

There's a bit of Chris Horner in every cyclist - that silly inner child that has a devious smile when they reach an insane peak, be it a certain speed or time or wattage, or just winning one town-line sprint. So I'll be a happy cyclist when I hear a guy talking about how I was picking my nose as I was chasing Tim. We're all out there to prove it to ourselves, first and foremost I hope, and if we can get a bit of respect from the guys suffering beside us, all the much better.

But I sure as hell won't be picking my nose.

Happy Easter everyone. If you're racing someone far away this weekend, good luck, keep the rubber side down, and represent us DC folks well. To the rest of you - I'll see you on the usual roads. Cheers.

I touched Electronic Dura Ace (Di2).

On Tuesday night, I took a quick evening bike ride to Bicycle Pro Shop in Georgetown - a GW Cycling team sponsor. Usually I go in and pick up what I need then roll out after a quick chat with my friends working there. Tuesday was a bit different - I stayed and chatted with Colin and Taylor a good while. They had new toys to show me.

Colin is one of my best friends; we learned the ropes about bike racing together as two of the first novice members of the GW cycling team. Nowadays, I ride a bit more than he does, but he is the man I trust with anything equipment related. Working in a shop full time, he just knows his gear.

Well, the boys at BPS have a simple but notable sign on the window of their shop right now, and I encourage you to stop by and see for yourself. Colin put up a similarly simple sign when Super Record arrived, but now...


The sign: Electronic Dura Ace is here.

It sure is, and that's what made me stay a while. I came in to buy new brake pads and just about stayed in the shop for an hour, a few minutes past their closing. The bike has a nice little "do not touch" warning sign on it, so I waited for Colin and Taylor to feed the other end-of-day shoppers. Colin knew why I was there waiting so patiently.

BPS is apparently on Cannondale's good side. They received the first full bike with an Electronic Dura Ace (Di2) groupset in the country.

While the boys at BPS have all ridden this bike for sh*ts and giggles, they sure weren't about to let me take it out on a congested DC road at dusk (nor did I want to assume that liability). Colin was courteous enough to pedal the bike while I played with the shifters. Good enough - it was a tease for a system that is prohibitively expensive and still quite rare, but man-oh-man it's nice.

After riding Shimano Ultegra and Dura Ace shifters for the past 4 years, it's hard to get accustomed to the ease of Di2's shifting. Even if you've ridden SRAM or Campy, the effortlessness is freaky. With every shift on any indexed, cabled groupset, there's a lag of distance where you move the shifter inward before the "click."

This doesn't exist with Di2, because this slight movement is the shift. The system doesn't rely on the tension of a cable to move a gear into place; it's motorized, duh. That means shifting only takes the press of a button that looks like a shifter. (The brake lever is again just a brake lever.)

I was surprised with the small shape of the shifters and their close proximity to each other. Together, they are the same size as one inner shifter of normal Dura Ace. But these aren't shifters, they are buttons. A button, unlike a shifter, has only one mechanical necessity: a wire carrying a signal out the other side. A button can look like anything.

In a shop, you can hear the rear shifter move the chain up and down the cassette in short spurts of hums that surely wouldn't be loud enough to hear when the wind is blowing in your face. The front shifter is a bit more pronounced, but no less smooth with it's nearly instant move from chainring to chainring. In effect, you can barely feel the bike shifting unless you're pedaling it.

So, although it's hard to get past the mystifying ease with which the Di2 system works and the scary implications of a cyclist's dependence on an electronic system, it's necessary to explore the potential of such a powerful product.

Since the shifters are dependent on signals, not cables, you can have multiple shifter buttons. Like many teams are using multiple brakes on aero bars, imagine having shifters on the bar ends as well as the aero-bars of your TT bike. Heck, even triathletes would love this stuff - no more awkward shifting from the aero-bars while climbing. But don't think of these as shifters. Because they are buttons, they can look like whatever you want - so weight will never be a factor.

Since the shifting is computerized, you can shift under load from the little ring to the big ring without chain suck. That's impossible with a tension/cable based system. Cables (and human hands) are not strong enough, and you'll make a heck of a lot of noise in the process.

Lastly - a point Colin mentioned to me. Since the shifting is so exact on Di2, Campy's 11 speed system is already obsolete. With an electronic shifting group, there is no necessary hand-calibration or tensioning of the wires. The shifters, both front and rear, correct themselves. This means that as long as a thin enough chain can be created, the cassette can have any number of cogs. The system will do the tweaking.

Are there downsides? Surely. You are now depending on a battery, which lasts longer than most of us ride anyways (600 miles per charge is fine by me). I've hearding nothing of the such yet, but an electronic system with glitches surely would be worse than a mechanical failure on a normal derailleur. And even though there are no shifting cables, you still have brake cables and now add a plethora of thinner electronic wires from the battery to the shifters and also the derailleurs. Organized well these are no more bothersome than normal cables. (Sorry, no wireless system yet.)

But if I had the extra cash - lots of it - would any of these stop me from using such a cool system? Hell no. Forgiving my plug to BPS, if you've got an extra few thousand lying around, you can pick up the first Di2 in the country - and surely be the first chump in gear-crazed MABRA to have the thing.

It won't make you faster, but you'll sure be smoother.

We put the bike back on the rack, and, knowing I wasn't about to buy a $7,000 Cannondale with Di2, Colin and Taylor tried to sell me any other bike (as is usual, even though I am not bike shopping at all). Rumor has it that Colnago fired their distributor (Veltec), so Veltec is liquidating a number of beautiful Colnago frames to dealers. This will land you - the buyer - a screaming discount.

That is, if you're in the market for a fancy new Italian frame... but who isn't always bike shopping?

Gamjams Reviews: Helmets - Giro Atmos & Specialized S-Works

I used a Giro Pneumo helmet for a while. A long while, actually. I changed to the Giro Monza after the Pneumo just seemed a bit too old and brittle and the retention strap ripped out of the styrofoam on the crown. I purchased the Pneumo originally after hearing one of my better riding pals called it the "quintessential helmet." When I tried it on, I couldn't disagree.

When I'm thinking about equipment I like, I often realize that the less I think about a peice of equipment, the better it is. If I'm not thinking about it, that means it's not bothering me one bit. For equipment that sits on your head for hours, a helmet better not be bothersome.

Nowadays, I think the quintessential helmet is the Giro Atmos. For the past year, I was using that particular brain bucket in navy blue to match my GW cycling stuff. All of the Giro helmets have a similar shape and fit, so the medium agrees with my particularly weird shaped cranium very well with enough space for a cap or thin beanie if it's cold. Like it's predecessor, the Pneumo, it's incredible light weight and well ventilated.

Since the Giro Ionos came out, the Atmos has been hitting some incredible price points at just over a benjamin. If that's still too much cash to dispurse on an item that is designed to be destroyed, the Pneumo still exists, but the Monza is probably the helmet with the most bang-for-buck.

Now that I joined NCVC, I wanted to buy a new helmet to match the white, red, and black kit. (Typical cyclist looking for a reason to buy new swag.) At the same time, just coincidentally, a strap of the plastic retention system on my year-old atmos cracked. I needed a new brain bucket.

Through our sponsor Spokes, Etc., I ordered a Specialized S-Works helmet in the Silence-Lotto colors; this helmet would match the NCVC kit excellently.

Soon after, I called up Giro (owned by Easton-Bell Sports) and asked for them to send me a new retention system and pads. The retention system and pads were sent to my office within three days, and I didn't pay a dime. I'd heard that Easton-Bell/Giro had incredible customer service, but this was just too good of a surprise. I wasn't outsourced to India and I actually talked to a human being. Awesome.

Two weeks later, Specialized shipped my new S-Works helmet to Spokes. Except they didn't ship my helmet, they shipped last year's grey and salmon-pink colored Predictor-Lotto S-Works helmet. I wouldn't have minded so much except for the fact that the rigid retention system was bent inward near the right temple. It was a carbon fiber and styrofoam headache machine.

Having ordered a $250 helmet (although I didn't pay nearly that much), I would have expected better quality control all around. None of that has to do with the helmet though, just my disappointment with one of the evil empires of America's corporate cycling community. But I digress...

I eventually received my helmet in the correct colors. I've ridden with it for the past two weeks and am still aclimating to it. The effort that Specialized put into this helmet works against them in some ways.

First of all, to get a snug fit, the retention system goes fully around the head instead of starting at the temples and ratcheting at the back. The pads that velcro onto the hard plastic strap slip a ton, so it's abrasive if you're not wearing a cap under the helmet (which don't fit as well for me as they do under Giro helmets).

As a contrast, Specialized has a cheaper helmet called the Propero, for $110, that has much softer rubber on the retention system. It baffles me why they didnt' use this rubber on the S-Works helmet too.

The other oddity about the S-Works is that the straps aren't webbing - they're thick ribbons. This makes them slip substantially more while riding, and they are rougher on the backs of your ears if they're rubbing.

Still, this helmet fits very comfortably overall, and it looks good. Specialized advertises it as the lightest helmet on the market, and it sure as hell is light (perhaps because they use ribbon instead of webbing). No show-stoppers yet, because the helmet hasn't pissed me off while riding. I think I've noticed these things because of the change in brands.

Helmets are an annoying peice of equipment to have to buy. They are the one piece of equipment we always wear, but hope to never use.

I've tried five different helmets over the past few years. A few of them have unfortunately done their job, fortunately saving my noggin. So, in respect to those two, I want to give a shout-out to the low-level Bell Alchera and the value-oriented, race-caliber Giro Monza. Both performed their duties well without bothering me one bit.

Race Report: Tysons Corner Circuit Race, Cat 4

It was a beautiful day for a bike race, and I hope everyone had a good time at Tyson's today. I hope everyone appreciates the work that goes into throwing a bike race, especially one this close to DC, too.

After taking pictures of this race last year, I was sure that I wanted to race it this year. The course suits me well because it's got a nice gradual uphill on one side that leads to the finish. Anything that isn't perfectly flat, and not too technical, suits me well. (Or so I think.)

Overall, I have absolutely no delusions of grandeur with my cycling goals this year. I'm naturally fit enough to hang with the 4s, so I just wanna have fun racing a bit. Being quick without too much training is a gift, so I don't wanna waste the legs.

That being said, I take a lot out of the little things in these races, and I hope that's evident throughout my blogs and race reports. I try to find small wins, learn something from each race, and hopefully come out with a positive attitude about a positive experience. Hopefully...

The plan for Tyson's Cat 4 was a 60 minute crit. The field sold out, so it was a full 75 guys. The weather was beautiful, just heating up to nearly 70 degrees before our races. Pretty dry, too.

For what it's worth, this was my fourteenth mass-start bike race and, somehow, my first left-turn/counter-clockwise course. Luckily that didn't make a different, I just think that's funny.

I got a great starting position on the line, and after a crappy clip-in, I managed to immediately get great positioning: near the front, but not at the front. (We've all been there at least once when we get a great clip-in, bolt off the line, then find ourselves either inadvertantly attacking from the gun, or pulling the entire field.)

We took off at full gas. This race was mayhem.

On each of the downhill passes, about halfway down Westpark drive, 75 guys were trying to be at the front of a 75 man field. This means that we were bombing down a 2-lane road at nearly 40 miles per hour, about 8 riders abreast, gutter to road cones. It was dangerous.

I was near the front, so flying down the hill on the second lap, I just heard "SH*T! SH*T!" and then the typical scraping, cracking, and smashing sounds. Whatever was going on behind me, it sounded pretty bad.

On the third lap, someone yelled "neutral!" but well, if one guy had said that there was a polar bear chasing us, I wouldn't have stopped racing. Eventually things slowed down, but we were still cruising down the hill. A bunch of folks were blocking the lanes to tend to the injured, so they were detouring the race out of the race course. Things were neutralized.

There were road cones between the race course and the other half of the road. I saw about 3 guys almost take themselves out on a neutral lap because of road cones... nuts.

Finishing the third lap, after about 8 and a half minutes, the field was stopped at the start line. Luckily my positioning had me back on the line again, which would save me some effort. We waited, and waited, and waited. After 20 minutes, we got word that we'd only be racing for 30 more minutes. Oh well. Nice warm-up.

To me, it's common sense that folks learn lessons after they make mistakes. Cat 4 and Cat 5 bike racers don't don't have this instinct. We're just nimwits. We just don't get it, sometimes. When the whistle rang to start the race (again), the sh*t show continued like nothing had happened. Guys passed through the gutter, scraping curbs on every corner and kicking road cones as they pedaled down the hill.

It was still crazy, so I busted my balls to stay near the front. I found the sweet spot, watching the race open up in front of me, but not necessarily fighting the wind. I'd get swarmed after the downhill every lap, but managed to stay near the front by making up space on the uphill.

After a few laps, my teammate Chris Carraway found me and said "Now's the time to go if you wanna go." I shook my head. I just wasn't feeling it in the legs, I'd play it by the book. The next lap was a prime lap, so if I was going to book it, I'd kick it after the prime and hope to fool the greedy guys.

I studied the sprint for the prime, and a Bike Rack guy took it from early on I think. Not bad, things were wide open. I didn't have it in me to kick it, so I played it cool. The pace was pretty good the whole time, so we didn't have to "fill in the void," as our race plans always go.

There were always 2-3 NCVC guys in the front third of the race, so we never had to worry about watching the race go by. Bike Rack played an aggressive race, but couldn't get away on their own. They attacked and counter-attacked but never got any distance. A few NCVC guys tried to dig in, but got chased by everyone.

The race was so short, so I'll skip to one lap to go. I was about 1/3 back in the field and it was single file, on the flats at the top of the course. I found myself behind 3 of my teammates. Perfect.

I yelled to Chris Carraway, another Chris Chapel, and a junior racing with us just so they all knew we were together. Carraway and I can work together pretty well, and I was right behind him. However, I was hoping - with four guys in line - to get farther up earlier on. Much earlier.

That didn't happen. Chapel and the junior got lost in the mayhem, so I stayed on Carraway's wheel. Once again, even from a decent position not too far back, we found ourselves getting swarmed by the bees of Cat 4s on the bottom flats of the course. We were blocked in from the good lines on the outside right, and a few random guys passed on our left. Traffic was thick and fast. We were going backwards in the pack and I didn't like it.

I knew that we were pretty darn far back, so I made a decision. I ran the open lane on the inside leading up to the final turn. I burnt a few too many matches doing so, but I gained about 6 or 7 spots before the final turn.

Taking the inside line on that final turn ruined any chances I had. I lost so much speed, by the time I got through the turn, Chris was back on my wheel, although I didn't really know it. He tailed me for a bit then bolted passed with about 250 to go.

In front of me, in the left lane, some mayhem of guys sprinting into each other (literally) occured. There was a strong smell of burnt rubber in the air. The sight was of bike carnage. There was an Arrow rider lying sideways on the ground, one leg over his mangled bike, facing up hill. Another rider had no choice but to ride straight into his back. It looked ugly for both of them, and that's just about when I turned "race mode" off.

I don't feel like sprinting for nothing, so I cruised up the hill in the little ring. My boy D-Wis, who I hadn't seen since the restart, finished next to me.

Up the hill, my NCVC teammate Brad Kendall took the win. Awesome. Jeff Spaulding took 9th, and Chris ended up sprinting off my wheel for 10th.

After the finish, a Bike Rack guy described that final wreck's stench as if a bunch of plastic bags had been thrown into a fire. I couldn't have articulated the smell of burnt flesh and burnt rubber better.

Overally, I was definitely happy with how I raced. I ended up 36th, which is my actually worst-ever result for a race I've finished. Oh well. I raced well.

I was not happy, however, with the decision I made to take the inside line before the last turn into the uphill sprint. That was just dumb. I got pretty antsy being that far back in the pack. Really, I was already screwed - the race had already swarmed past me. Oh well.

I'm happy to have finished another one rubber-side-down, and definitely happy how I stayed up front the entire race... at least until 1k to go.

Final thought - It's just easier to ride and suffer with folks that are genuinely nice guys, so I wanna thank my teammate Chris for being a good pal on the bike, and a good sport off the bike too. I've driven Chris to and from a few rides and races, so the guy paid me back in leftover swag from his shop. I couldn't have been happier with the surprise gift.

Thanks, Chris. The knee warmers fit great and are frikken' sweet.

Cheers, and thanks for reading.

Gamjams Reviews: Car Racks - Thule Roof Rack

This week's review on gamjams is about car racks for bikes. My post here isn't necessarily just about the rack, but my transportation system as a whole - including the car.

When I went car shopping two years ago, I knew that I wanted a car friendly to my pretty active lifestyle (re: cycling, kayaking, skiing, backpacking). I opted for a Mazda3 hatchback. I knew I could fit tons of gear inside that little car, especially after quickly flipping the seats down.

Knowing that I could throw a bicycle inside of the car was basically a credential of my car shopping campaign. A few months after I got the car, my folks helped me splurge on a bike rack for my birthday. (My dad was kinda getting sick of seeing me throw a filthy bike into my new little wagon.) Even with the rack now, I still like the option of being able to lock the bike inside the car when necessary.

Being familiar with Thule, I took a trip to REI, used some discounts, and ended up with a pretty simple Thule roof rack system. REI even had some silver bike trays that matched my car on clearance, which made me pretty happy. It looks sharp and because they're not the boring black, they're a bit unique so they don't look old after they've been rained on a couple of times.

I also opted to get the clamp locks. I wanted to make sure those clamps had no chance of opening up while speeding down the highway, first of all. More than that, I knew that there'd be times where I'd just need to have the bike locked up in a parking lot when I'm walking around somewhere for a few minutes.

Don't get me wrong, I never leave my bike anywhere. However, it's reassuring to know that your bike is a bit more secure than the one leaning on the next car over when you're in the porta potty at a bike race, or just stopping for lunch somewhere.

Lotsa folks argue the pros and cons of roof racks as compared to hitch racks or trunk racks. I knew I wanted a roof rack from the beginning because it would make my car a bit more versatile. On that Thule system I've thrown my kayaks, snowboards, skis, and even a ladder once. Another time I was helping a friend move, so we bungeed a dolly onto the rack and threw boxes and a TV inside the hatch. Pretty slick.

After having the roof rack for a while, you grow accustomed to the volume of the noise. Usually, to muffle the turbulence, I'd raise the volume on the radio but that wasn't a friendly option when you're driving passengers. Eventually I splurged on a Thule wind fairing. Essentially, this fairing is a $60 peice of plastic that you strap to the front bar of the rack. The stupid peice of plastic is expensive, but I have no regrets whatsoever. That is arguably the most worthwhile $60 I've ever spent on my car.

Since I have a short hatchback, it's pretty simple to get the bikes on the roof; the bike trays/clamps are simple, too. A hitch or trunk rack would have hindered the usefulness of the hatch, so the roof rack was the easy choice, and I've had few problems with it so far.

Leaving Jeff Cup on Sunday I loaded my bike and gear in a frenzy. Arriving at Cat's sister's house about 20 miles away, I discoverd had accidentally left the rear tire unstrapped. Thank-the-lord, the bike hadn't moved. Woah, that could've been expensive.

Other than that, no problems so far (knock on wood).

Headlines and a new sponsor for NCVC

Today's Headlines:

• The international governing body of cycling, UCI, bans sunglasses in all cycling races.
  
  
• Paris-Roubaix velodrome is double-booked; Lance Armstrong has additional surgery on clavicles to perfect his aero position.
  
  
• Zipp Speed Weaponry celebrates 80th anniversary of Zippicelli's Tour victory on deep-section rims. Third article down:
  
  
• And of course, our friends at Google introduce software that automatically replies to email. They call it GMail Autopilot.
  

So that's what's going on in the world. On the homefront, I also received this message (below) from NCVC's president today, about our cycling club's new title sponsor. We are now NCVC Powered By Burger King:

Team,

I am pleased to announce that we have just signed Burger King as a new sponsor for the remainder of the 2009 season. This will entail some changes, for starters our new team name will be "NCVC Powered By Burger King Sandwiches." We also have a new jersey with a welcome splash of blue and yellow colors. Michael and John are preparing an urgent clothing order consisting of jerseys and shorts for you to wear.

In addition, Burger King is also extending a 50% discount to all our members valid at any Burger King franchise. The triple whopper with cheese is excellent.

Myron Lehtman
NCVC President

...

Have a good April 1st.

;-)