At the beginning of this year, I closed my first post of the year saying that I was "looking forward to riding more miles faster, wearing new colors."
Done and done.
What a great ride it has been, and that's an understatement. I'm probably not going to get on my bike in these last few hours of 2009, so I can happily conclude my year with the following numbers:
- 5,568 Miles
- 137 Total rides or races
- 132 Blog posts (including this one)
- 1 Century ride
- 3 Trips to the Lost River Barn
- 19 Races
- 1 [Minor] Crash
- 2 Wins
- 2 Races I did where teammates won
- $523 Total race fees
- $289 Race winnings
In January, I was hoping that I would be motivated enough race at least six times - the number of races required to get some (key word, not all) reimbursement for race fees from my team. (I might have overachieved on that front.)
Joining a team made the biggest difference in every aspect of cycling for me. Mainly, I had more people to ride with on longer and faster rides and made some great friends. Secondly, representing my team as a contender for the BAR was my main reason for competing in so many events in June and July. Had I not had the motivation or the peer pressure to "just sign up," I definitely wouldn't have put my name on the start list. Ensuring that NCVC had someone competing for the regional award was good momentum.
I still like riding more than racing, but to use the trite speak of cyclists, I found my legs. I wasn't motivated to get fast; I was motivated because I got fast. Now I have to keep up with myself.
Although this video never gets old, I'll post up something a bit more symbolic for the upcoming year:
The Dog Days Are Over, recommended on Rich's blog, tells me to kick it into high gear for next year. "Dog Days" doesn't mean the heat and struggle, to me - quite the opposite. I was pretty relaxed about racing; I had no pressure on myself to get results. While I'd like to keep the low-pressure mentality on myself, it'll take a bit more seriousness in training to hang tough and become a factor in races. I am confident that I prepared myself correctly, but Dawg Days came too easily for me. I have to expect bigger challenges to come.
I had very few low points in 2009, I'll admit that. And though the results are highlighted by a bunch of top-10s and a pair of back-to-back wins, the year was full of priceless memories.
Early in the year, I completed my first century, unplanned and unsupported.
In February, I cramped badly during the final miles of my first road race as a Cat 4, a 50-miler in North Carolina. Six months later I would win a 50-mile road race on a more difficult course in Maryland.
Previewing the Lost River Course, I dug deep to keep up with Tim Rugg up Jenkins Hollow Road, only to blow up five minutes later on the hill on Dispanet Road and get dropped - by everyone. In July, I hung tough there in West Virginia at my first Cat 3 race.
Throughout the spring and summer I felt like one of the king sh*ts on the turd island of Hains Point's Thursday evening sprints, thanks to lead-outs from Nate, Drew, Chapel, Schlomo and a few other riding pals.
A lot of riding led up to a stellar season - one that I have few complaints about and surely hope to build upon. In 2008, I upgraded to Cat 5 and only did one race as a Cat 4. The last time I crossed the finish line in 2009 race was comfortably in the pack in a 1/2/3 race.
The residual fitness from my rowing days helped; the competitor in me was having tons of fun. I blew more than my $289 worth of winnings on booze for my teammates - but I can't thank them enough for the wheel-sucking-lead-outs they provided me throughout the season, much less the company or mentorship. Chapel, Dave K, and Nate - I'll always appreciate your relaxed attitudes and straight forward feedback. Every cyclist needs some teammates like you guys.
I especially can't thank the young and diminutive Mr. David Brookes for his lead-out services. Too young to enjoy the spoils of booze I provided to the other NCVC guys, it was him whose wheel I followed in my last three Cat 4 races. I know it will be soon and look forward to the day that I'm delivering him to the line, but it'll be a few years until he buys us the beer. The kid doesn't yet have the finish-line punch, but he's got the endurance, skills, and savvy. I'm warning you now: wait until he weighs more than one hundred pounds.
Some of my best friends (and teammates) moved away at the end of the summer, leaving me with a void where they used to half-wheel my sorry legs for hours every weekend. If anything, their departure from DC leaves me something to look forward to - hopefully a trip to California to ride with Eric, and Drew and Mike's inevitable homecomings to DC (where y'all truly belong).
Best of all, I made a whole heck of a lot of new friends and riding pals in MABRA. Many of them wear different colored kits than I wear, but I wouldn't hesitate to trade some pulls on a long ride any time, or maybe test our legs for the DC line.
Oh, I have a new teammate. Catherine finally joined NCVC after too many seasons racing unattached yet still posting decent results. Booyah! The NCVC women are going to make a huge comeback in 2010! She got me back into the competitiveness of this sport by making me follow her around on base mile rides. She tolerates my incessant whining about early mornings, times when I drop the hammer on rides, or when I head out with the guys. Her support is priceless and I hope the team builds upon her own motivations.
In 2010, I'll leave my goals flexible - at least for now. As always, I want to make an impact in races, whether it is for myself or for my teammates. Because I sometimes feel that my legs, instincts, and will were stronger than my skills as a Cat 4, I hope that racing against more experienced competition will make me a better cyclist, too.
I guess I really just want to stay fit, have fun riding, and test my legs by racing at a higher level.
Achieving results was neat, but I'm never going pro. More than results, I want to do what I can to welcome others to this inevitably unwelcoming sport. On NCVC, I've taken a role to help introduce our new members to the club.
Personally, it's also important to me to keep helping my friends and proteges on the GW Cycling. I want to keep rebuilding the team that introduced me to the sport, or at least sustain the endless efforts of Lauren, Catherine, and Schlomo to keep the team strong. And I want to do everything I can to get Schlomo to Collegiate Nationals.
- -
To all of my friends, teammates, and competitors in MABRA - I pour a glass of Italian Prosecco and toast to 2009. I hope to trade some pulls with you in 2010 (but kick your ass to the finish line!).
Cheers.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Festivus: The Airing of Grievances
December 23rd... Happy Festivus!
Festivus for the rest of us!
Kramer: And is there a tree?
Frank Costanza: No, instead, there's a pole. It requires no decoration. I find tinsel distracting... It's made from aluminum. Very high strength-to-weight ratio.
To go along with the Festivus spirit, I'll share my grievances first. I assure you, there is no strength or weight behind any of these gripes. Nor will I apologize for beating any dead horses.
Feel free to add yours on your blogs, or post them in my comments. Let the Airing of Grievances begin:
Chris Carraway and Drew Wisniewski: We were perfectly placed on the outside, and lined up with half a lap to go at Syn-Fit. I was yelling as loud as I could, “GO! GO! Now! More!” You did not, so I had to take off myself.
David Kirkpatrick: I was sitting on the beach in Puerto Rico three days after the Lost River Classic and my legs still hurt.
Drew Wisniewski, Colin Herron, Eric Bruins, Mike Brindza, Mark Parrett, and Geoff Rezvani: I miss riding with all of you suckers that moved away from DC this year. Come back to DC.
James Palo, aka “Bicycle Place dude racing in the V-neck t-shirt”: You were strong enough to make the break in the Cat 4 race at Murad, and strong enough to place second. But you didn’t do one ounce of work, you L-7 weenie. You even had the audacity to tell me you were tired. I will never work with you again. Coppi was payback.
Pax Velo: Another grievance from Murad ’09. You all were riding British on the wrong side of the road, disregarding any sort of center-line rule that may have been in affect. It was ridiculously rude and ridiculously dangerous. (Then you missed the breakaway; sorry, karma’s a bitch.)
To Whom it May Concern: Wear bibs. Nobody wants to see the hairy crack of your ass between your jersey and shorts. Please wash aforementioned bibs before using them again.
Zach Bolian: I enjoyed riding with you last year because you have endless experience riding and racing. If you don’t get back on your bike, I will keep talking trash and telling everyone that I’ve beaten a former U-23 national champion three times in a row on a sprints ride.
Triathletes and marathoners: There is a difference between racing to win, and racing to finish. I’m not impressed with the latter; I’d rather see you win a 5k than suck in a marathon.
Squadra Coppi Cat 4 dude at Reston: When you’re the second guy in a strung-out line of 50 racers, do NOT hit your breaks in the middle of a downhill-to-uphill, soaking wet, off-camber turn. My team thought we had great positioning for how wet the course was at Reston, but you sure proved us wrong. Apparently having 5 of the first 7 guys into the slippery corner of death wasn’t good enough since you were riding second wheel.
Dan Lehman: Suck it up and ride with your collegiate team. God will forgive you. You should know the punch-line: God wishes he was Eddy Merckx.
Nate Hakken: You lost a lot of weight and got really, really fast since I met you a year ago. That’s cool if you’re on my team, but not if you upgrade and leave for MABRA’s Menudo. Speaking of which...
Gamjams: To me, the biggest irony about the new Gamjams team is a quote I remember from a now-former teammate. Mocking the other ambitious Cat 3s, he said to me, “Want to be on an ‘elite’ team? Let’s change the team name to NCVC Cat 4 Elite.” Spoiling a bunch of mid-level amateurs sounds awesome and very appealing, but you should not kick off the team members that are doing well. If you are going to cherry-pick racers with swag a la Haymarket, be proud to develop your own and go for Gamjams 1/2. Way to buy off a Cat 3 racer from every other team in the region, only for many of them to plan to go right back to where they started. (Oh, and change the featured photo, will ya?)
Haymarket: Do you all have any sense of geography? Is anyone on your team actually from anywhere near Haymarket?
Dan Drumwright: I like racing with you and you’re a good friend, so I’m happy you’re considering a return to the stars & bars of NCVC. However, just pick one gosh-darn team and stay there for a while. You are like the biggest slut among all the teams in MABRA.
CycleLife (gym/shop): I’m impressed that you somehow managed to stay in business (you can thank your rich tri-geek friends later) but how the hell do you people sleep at night?
Harry Goldman: I asked you to hold my bike and you simply let it fall over. My perfectly matching $7 dollar bar tape is nicked because of you.
Referees at Ride Sally Ride: When there’s a dude bleeding from the face in the middle of the road, stop the race. Oh, and Andrew Bridges was robbed.
Artemis: You may have won the team BAR competition, but your kits are fugly.
Mike Brindza: You said I would never win a race doing my own thing. You were wrong – twice.
Leslie Jennings: You don’t know me. However, I feel obliged to inform you that you make watching MABRA women’s elite races really, really boring. Can you at least make it look difficult?
All female Cat 4 racers: You are all horribly hypocritical. If only I had a nickel for every time I heard a girl tell me she was not going to a race because there were too few people racing, or not joining a team because women don’t work together. Stop being your own problem.
Chris Chapel: Anyone with a 33% win ratio for the season needs to upgrade from Cat 4 (even if you only raced three times), plus I need a lead-out man in Cat 3.
Whole Wheel Velo Cat 4 racers: Did you buy all of the Zipp wheels in the mid-Atlantic? I wish there was a gear-whore welfare program.
Avery Wilson: It is okay to say hi, wave, nod or at least acknowledge the presence of your teammates when you cross paths on MacArthur. Next time we ride the espresso together, I'll buy you lunch in Georgetown if you give the “wink and the gun” to at least three other cyclists you see on the road.
Rich Hohenbrink: Just admit it, you wish you were a hipster.
Cyclocross Racers: No, I won’t race cross. I’d rather be riding my road bike than dismounting to jump over plywood every three minutes. Please stop telling me how great it is, and then telling me how much your season has sucked.
Dan Schwartz: Sometimes I want to rip off my legs and beat you with them, you half-wheeling fool! However, I couldn’t ask for a better training partner. PS, buy some winter tights.
- - - -
That's all I've got for Festivus right know. Your turn.
Happy Christmas Eve Eve.
Festivus for the rest of us!
Kramer: And is there a tree?
Frank Costanza: No, instead, there's a pole. It requires no decoration. I find tinsel distracting... It's made from aluminum. Very high strength-to-weight ratio.
To go along with the Festivus spirit, I'll share my grievances first. I assure you, there is no strength or weight behind any of these gripes. Nor will I apologize for beating any dead horses.
Feel free to add yours on your blogs, or post them in my comments. Let the Airing of Grievances begin:
Chris Carraway and Drew Wisniewski: We were perfectly placed on the outside, and lined up with half a lap to go at Syn-Fit. I was yelling as loud as I could, “GO! GO! Now! More!” You did not, so I had to take off myself.
David Kirkpatrick: I was sitting on the beach in Puerto Rico three days after the Lost River Classic and my legs still hurt.
Drew Wisniewski, Colin Herron, Eric Bruins, Mike Brindza, Mark Parrett, and Geoff Rezvani: I miss riding with all of you suckers that moved away from DC this year. Come back to DC.
James Palo, aka “Bicycle Place dude racing in the V-neck t-shirt”: You were strong enough to make the break in the Cat 4 race at Murad, and strong enough to place second. But you didn’t do one ounce of work, you L-7 weenie. You even had the audacity to tell me you were tired. I will never work with you again. Coppi was payback.
Pax Velo: Another grievance from Murad ’09. You all were riding British on the wrong side of the road, disregarding any sort of center-line rule that may have been in affect. It was ridiculously rude and ridiculously dangerous. (Then you missed the breakaway; sorry, karma’s a bitch.)
To Whom it May Concern: Wear bibs. Nobody wants to see the hairy crack of your ass between your jersey and shorts. Please wash aforementioned bibs before using them again.
Zach Bolian: I enjoyed riding with you last year because you have endless experience riding and racing. If you don’t get back on your bike, I will keep talking trash and telling everyone that I’ve beaten a former U-23 national champion three times in a row on a sprints ride.
Triathletes and marathoners: There is a difference between racing to win, and racing to finish. I’m not impressed with the latter; I’d rather see you win a 5k than suck in a marathon.
Squadra Coppi Cat 4 dude at Reston: When you’re the second guy in a strung-out line of 50 racers, do NOT hit your breaks in the middle of a downhill-to-uphill, soaking wet, off-camber turn. My team thought we had great positioning for how wet the course was at Reston, but you sure proved us wrong. Apparently having 5 of the first 7 guys into the slippery corner of death wasn’t good enough since you were riding second wheel.
Dan Lehman: Suck it up and ride with your collegiate team. God will forgive you. You should know the punch-line: God wishes he was Eddy Merckx.
Nate Hakken: You lost a lot of weight and got really, really fast since I met you a year ago. That’s cool if you’re on my team, but not if you upgrade and leave for MABRA’s Menudo. Speaking of which...
Gamjams: To me, the biggest irony about the new Gamjams team is a quote I remember from a now-former teammate. Mocking the other ambitious Cat 3s, he said to me, “Want to be on an ‘elite’ team? Let’s change the team name to NCVC Cat 4 Elite.” Spoiling a bunch of mid-level amateurs sounds awesome and very appealing, but you should not kick off the team members that are doing well. If you are going to cherry-pick racers with swag a la Haymarket, be proud to develop your own and go for Gamjams 1/2. Way to buy off a Cat 3 racer from every other team in the region, only for many of them to plan to go right back to where they started. (Oh, and change the featured photo, will ya?)
Haymarket: Do you all have any sense of geography? Is anyone on your team actually from anywhere near Haymarket?
Dan Drumwright: I like racing with you and you’re a good friend, so I’m happy you’re considering a return to the stars & bars of NCVC. However, just pick one gosh-darn team and stay there for a while. You are like the biggest slut among all the teams in MABRA.
CycleLife (gym/shop): I’m impressed that you somehow managed to stay in business (you can thank your rich tri-geek friends later) but how the hell do you people sleep at night?
Harry Goldman: I asked you to hold my bike and you simply let it fall over. My perfectly matching $7 dollar bar tape is nicked because of you.
Referees at Ride Sally Ride: When there’s a dude bleeding from the face in the middle of the road, stop the race. Oh, and Andrew Bridges was robbed.
Artemis: You may have won the team BAR competition, but your kits are fugly.
Mike Brindza: You said I would never win a race doing my own thing. You were wrong – twice.
Leslie Jennings: You don’t know me. However, I feel obliged to inform you that you make watching MABRA women’s elite races really, really boring. Can you at least make it look difficult?
All female Cat 4 racers: You are all horribly hypocritical. If only I had a nickel for every time I heard a girl tell me she was not going to a race because there were too few people racing, or not joining a team because women don’t work together. Stop being your own problem.
Chris Chapel: Anyone with a 33% win ratio for the season needs to upgrade from Cat 4 (even if you only raced three times), plus I need a lead-out man in Cat 3.
Whole Wheel Velo Cat 4 racers: Did you buy all of the Zipp wheels in the mid-Atlantic? I wish there was a gear-whore welfare program.
Avery Wilson: It is okay to say hi, wave, nod or at least acknowledge the presence of your teammates when you cross paths on MacArthur. Next time we ride the espresso together, I'll buy you lunch in Georgetown if you give the “wink and the gun” to at least three other cyclists you see on the road.
Rich Hohenbrink: Just admit it, you wish you were a hipster.
Cyclocross Racers: No, I won’t race cross. I’d rather be riding my road bike than dismounting to jump over plywood every three minutes. Please stop telling me how great it is, and then telling me how much your season has sucked.
Dan Schwartz: Sometimes I want to rip off my legs and beat you with them, you half-wheeling fool! However, I couldn’t ask for a better training partner. PS, buy some winter tights.
- - - -
That's all I've got for Festivus right know. Your turn.
Happy Christmas Eve Eve.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Last Weekend's Workouts
Kinda forgot to post these, but I got some good time in the saddle in last weekend. I was able to get a good ride in before the snow came, then hit the trainer with fresh motivation.
Friday
I had the day off (to make up for working over Thanksgiving weekend) so I rode with Nick in the frigid temps. The guys started out rolling hard on MacArthur, I was kinda surprised.
We headed out Glen, to Seneca, then took Berryville out. After the false flat that looks like something out of Napa, there's that sharp right turn up two consecutive kickers. Nick loves jamming it up the first one, and I laugh inside when his legs regret that on the second longer and steeper pitch.
Heading toward Poolesville on Darnestown, his legs started locking up a bit. Mine weren't feeling so great, but our paced had slowed down significantly; the hills had gotten to him. I lead us into Poolesville where we stopped for a good ten minutes to warm up in the supermarket.
BAD IDEA.
Last year, Schlomo and I went on a frigid ride with a novice guy named Seth. Seth was freezing his nuts off, so he asked if we could stop for coffee. I was kinda cold, so I obliged. When we started off again, I froze my nuts off. Dan and I had to drop Seth (who wanted the coffee stop in the first place) to warm up.
Poolesville reinforced the lesson I learned that day: If you can tolerate the cold, don't stop. Your shivers will only become worse if your body relaxes. It took a hard effort down all of Hughes Road and some more mileage on River to get any semblance of my homeostasis back.
Warm wishes, my @$$.
From there on, Nick kept following my wheel. I gapped him on a few hills just keeping my own rhythm, but I'd wait and he kept coming back for more. It was actually a lot like riding with Catherine (no offense, Nick!).
We decided not to stop again at the French bakery on Falls & River, and jammed it hard on Persimmon and MacArthur back into town. The guy, 6'3" or taller, may not have been drafting very much, but he held my hard tempo. I saw a few gaps start to form on MacArthur, so I relented a bit here and there. With less than a mile to go before the last hill, though, I just kept tempo and gunned it up the hill.
Sprinting down back into DC solo was pretty funny. My legs felt like they had in Murad - overworked and with little punch. I think I have good tempo and resiliency after long miles, but I'll have to work on the late all-out accelerations.
We warmed back up with a burrito at Q'doba, about 2 hours before it started snowing. Not bad.
Saturday
I couldn't resist riding Saturday, so I hooked the bike up on the trainer. My legs were a bit sore from Friday's jaunt, but not too bad. I decided to throw on my new GW cycling bibs and my old, all-white GW jersey to blend in with the surroundings. Here's the workout I did:
- 15 minutes warm-up, spinning
Then started the following sequence:
- 1 minute spinning
- 30 seconds right leg only / 30 sec both legs (light spin)
- 30 sec left leg only / 30 sec both
- 30 sec right leg only / 30 sec both
- 30 sec left leg only / 30s sec both
- 1 minute spinning
- 4 minutes @ 60-70 rpms in lowest gear (50x11)
I repeated that 6 times for an hour's worth of high-and-low drills, always focusing on the circular motion of the pedal stroke during the "spinning" sections. The hard-geared stuff is just because; it's fun to mash sometimes. Then I kept pedalling:
- 10 minutes spinning/snacktime (oreos and clif bloks)
- 20 minutes cardio/L7-weenie mode, or what tri-geeks call "zone 2"
- 5 more minutes of pointless spinning to cool down
When I started the workout, all I could think of was how much the city looked like Planet Hoth from The Empire Strikes Back. You got it - that's the DVD I put on during the workout.
Sunday
My main point of riding the trainer again on Sunday was to peer pressure Catherine into riding as well. Earlier in the morning I mentioned wanting to help some of my teammates upgrade, and she said, "Help me upgrade."
"Okay, then get on the trainer and do something."
Practicing what I was preaching, I set up next to her. I had planned to spin for about 75 minutes, but quite frankly I got bored and wanted to stretch the lungs a bit. Oh, and for the first time in about a year, I wore my heart rate monitor on the bike (not just to see how sedate I am at work or while sleeping). Here's what I did:
- 20 minute warm-up spinning
- 10 minutes "on" / 10 minutes spinning (repeat three times, totaling one hour)
- 20s hard, 40s spinning (repeat five times)
- 10 minute cool down
I was mostly curious to see my heart rate again. When I row, I'm warmed up in minutes - or at least significantly quicker than on the bike. It took me 14 minutes to break 150 beats per minute without feeling like death.
On the 10-minute intervals, I kept it steady throughout. I went progressively harder by a bit on each one, with my HR ranging from 166-173, 168-177, and 177-183 on the last one. I would kick it up the last minute, maxing out my HR at 181, 183, and 191, respectively. It actually took starting the "kick" from nearly two-minutes out to hit the 190s. Trainers suck.
I know those numbers mean next to nothing with such a sporadic workout, but it was fun to experiment with the heart rate a bit. Go ahead and lecture me about "zones" if you want, but I like perceived exertion. I'll find my mental gears again soon enough.
At least I was working out. What were you up to?
Friday
I had the day off (to make up for working over Thanksgiving weekend) so I rode with Nick in the frigid temps. The guys started out rolling hard on MacArthur, I was kinda surprised.
We headed out Glen, to Seneca, then took Berryville out. After the false flat that looks like something out of Napa, there's that sharp right turn up two consecutive kickers. Nick loves jamming it up the first one, and I laugh inside when his legs regret that on the second longer and steeper pitch.
Heading toward Poolesville on Darnestown, his legs started locking up a bit. Mine weren't feeling so great, but our paced had slowed down significantly; the hills had gotten to him. I lead us into Poolesville where we stopped for a good ten minutes to warm up in the supermarket.
BAD IDEA.
Last year, Schlomo and I went on a frigid ride with a novice guy named Seth. Seth was freezing his nuts off, so he asked if we could stop for coffee. I was kinda cold, so I obliged. When we started off again, I froze my nuts off. Dan and I had to drop Seth (who wanted the coffee stop in the first place) to warm up.
Poolesville reinforced the lesson I learned that day: If you can tolerate the cold, don't stop. Your shivers will only become worse if your body relaxes. It took a hard effort down all of Hughes Road and some more mileage on River to get any semblance of my homeostasis back.
From there on, Nick kept following my wheel. I gapped him on a few hills just keeping my own rhythm, but I'd wait and he kept coming back for more. It was actually a lot like riding with Catherine (no offense, Nick!).
We decided not to stop again at the French bakery on Falls & River, and jammed it hard on Persimmon and MacArthur back into town. The guy, 6'3" or taller, may not have been drafting very much, but he held my hard tempo. I saw a few gaps start to form on MacArthur, so I relented a bit here and there. With less than a mile to go before the last hill, though, I just kept tempo and gunned it up the hill.
Sprinting down back into DC solo was pretty funny. My legs felt like they had in Murad - overworked and with little punch. I think I have good tempo and resiliency after long miles, but I'll have to work on the late all-out accelerations.
We warmed back up with a burrito at Q'doba, about 2 hours before it started snowing. Not bad.
Saturday
I couldn't resist riding Saturday, so I hooked the bike up on the trainer. My legs were a bit sore from Friday's jaunt, but not too bad. I decided to throw on my new GW cycling bibs and my old, all-white GW jersey to blend in with the surroundings. Here's the workout I did:
- 15 minutes warm-up, spinning
Then started the following sequence:
- 1 minute spinning
- 30 seconds right leg only / 30 sec both legs (light spin)
- 30 sec left leg only / 30 sec both
- 30 sec right leg only / 30 sec both
- 30 sec left leg only / 30s sec both
- 1 minute spinning
- 4 minutes @ 60-70 rpms in lowest gear (50x11)
I repeated that 6 times for an hour's worth of high-and-low drills, always focusing on the circular motion of the pedal stroke during the "spinning" sections. The hard-geared stuff is just because; it's fun to mash sometimes. Then I kept pedalling:
- 10 minutes spinning/snacktime (oreos and clif bloks)
- 20 minutes cardio/L7-weenie mode, or what tri-geeks call "zone 2"
- 5 more minutes of pointless spinning to cool down
When I started the workout, all I could think of was how much the city looked like Planet Hoth from The Empire Strikes Back. You got it - that's the DVD I put on during the workout.
Sunday
My main point of riding the trainer again on Sunday was to peer pressure Catherine into riding as well. Earlier in the morning I mentioned wanting to help some of my teammates upgrade, and she said, "Help me upgrade."
"Okay, then get on the trainer and do something."
Practicing what I was preaching, I set up next to her. I had planned to spin for about 75 minutes, but quite frankly I got bored and wanted to stretch the lungs a bit. Oh, and for the first time in about a year, I wore my heart rate monitor on the bike (not just to see how sedate I am at work or while sleeping). Here's what I did:
- 20 minute warm-up spinning
- 10 minutes "on" / 10 minutes spinning (repeat three times, totaling one hour)
- 20s hard, 40s spinning (repeat five times)
- 10 minute cool down
I was mostly curious to see my heart rate again. When I row, I'm warmed up in minutes - or at least significantly quicker than on the bike. It took me 14 minutes to break 150 beats per minute without feeling like death.
On the 10-minute intervals, I kept it steady throughout. I went progressively harder by a bit on each one, with my HR ranging from 166-173, 168-177, and 177-183 on the last one. I would kick it up the last minute, maxing out my HR at 181, 183, and 191, respectively. It actually took starting the "kick" from nearly two-minutes out to hit the 190s. Trainers suck.
I know those numbers mean next to nothing with such a sporadic workout, but it was fun to experiment with the heart rate a bit. Go ahead and lecture me about "zones" if you want, but I like perceived exertion. I'll find my mental gears again soon enough.
At least I was working out. What were you up to?
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Cycling Water Bottle vs. Dishwasher
My buddy D-Wis sent me an email (he's now in Wisconsin) that included a picture of a melted and torn-up NCVC water bottle. Apparently the bottle fell off the rack of his dishwasher and became a victim of "the coils."
When he opened the dishwasher, "it was smokin' like crazy."
- - - -
Key words for googlers: bike cycling bicycle water bottle dishwasher dish washer rack
When he opened the dishwasher, "it was smokin' like crazy."
- - - -
Key words for googlers: bike cycling bicycle water bottle dishwasher dish washer rack
Friday, December 18, 2009
Inspiration from the Fat Cyclist
We can't all be pros, but one popular cycling blogger had the audacity to apply to Radio Shack Pro Cycling team anyways. Instead of proving his worth by winning pro races (he's apparently well under-qualified), The Fat Cyclist simply wrote a cover letter to the team's director, Johan Bruyneel, sharing the personal qualities he could contribute to the team.
Johan, a mastermind that he is, saw some potential in this "Fat Cyclist" (who I should clarify is not fat at all - about my size). Instead of deflecting the energy with a laugh, Johan challenged Fatty to earn his right to join Radio Shack at the team's first training camp.
If Fatty could raise $10,000 for two charities each - Livestrong and the World Bicycle Relief - he would earn his spot at the team's camp. He needed to raise $20,000 in less than 10 days.
With the help of Gary Fisher bikes (who provided a custom-painted frame for him to raffle), Fatty solicited his readers to contribute to the charities and raised the needed amounts within a day or two.
Johan, impressed, upped the ante. He said that he would give Fatty a team bike if he could raise $50,000 total.
When Fatty heard this, he decided it would be more noble to give the bike back at random to one of his generous contributors. Johan understood, and for the sake of the charity offered to have the entire Radio Shack Pro team sign the frame.
Fatty met that next mark, in addition to another challenge from Trek to raise at least $100,000 total in return for a trip to Paris to watch the 2010 Tour de France. (Fatty raffled that off to donors as well.)
In less than nine day, a guy with a blog raised $135,000 dollars for LiveStrong and the World Bicycle Relief. Nobody could deny that he deserved a trip to Radio Shack's team training camp.
Check out the short story from Johan:
That sure makes me wonder what the hell the purpose of my blog is. This is a vain riding journal, sure, but I can't forget the it could be so much more than that.
Johan, a mastermind that he is, saw some potential in this "Fat Cyclist" (who I should clarify is not fat at all - about my size). Instead of deflecting the energy with a laugh, Johan challenged Fatty to earn his right to join Radio Shack at the team's first training camp.
If Fatty could raise $10,000 for two charities each - Livestrong and the World Bicycle Relief - he would earn his spot at the team's camp. He needed to raise $20,000 in less than 10 days.
With the help of Gary Fisher bikes (who provided a custom-painted frame for him to raffle), Fatty solicited his readers to contribute to the charities and raised the needed amounts within a day or two.
Johan, impressed, upped the ante. He said that he would give Fatty a team bike if he could raise $50,000 total.
When Fatty heard this, he decided it would be more noble to give the bike back at random to one of his generous contributors. Johan understood, and for the sake of the charity offered to have the entire Radio Shack Pro team sign the frame.
Fatty met that next mark, in addition to another challenge from Trek to raise at least $100,000 total in return for a trip to Paris to watch the 2010 Tour de France. (Fatty raffled that off to donors as well.)
In less than nine day, a guy with a blog raised $135,000 dollars for LiveStrong and the World Bicycle Relief. Nobody could deny that he deserved a trip to Radio Shack's team training camp.
Check out the short story from Johan:
That sure makes me wonder what the hell the purpose of my blog is. This is a vain riding journal, sure, but I can't forget the it could be so much more than that.
Friday Ramblings: The Calm After the Storm
I'm really thankful for how much leeway my manager gives me to ride my bike. Through I never take off in the middle of the day, during the spring and summer he knows that I'm out the door by 5:30 on Thursday evenings to make it to the Hains sprints.
I don't take his leniency for granted, so I use that ride as a serious training workout. On many Mondays, he understand when I want to take the elevator up two flights instead of walking the stairs. He's totally cool with me eating snacks all the time.
As a professional mentor he is more than I could ever ask for. The fact that he allows me some space for my hobbies just makes me appreciative. I wish there were a way I could pay him back, so I try to reciprocate by working hard when the bike isn't a priority.
I've always said I'd rather be busy than bored. I won't change that mindset. As an athlete I feel the same way. If I'm bored, I might as well stop riding and go watch TV. I want to be challenged. My manager has always provided me with enough of a challenge in some way. On his watch, he says, I'm not getting steered off track.
So I've had a fun, busy, and slightly hectic two weeks at work. I had to work on some proposals over the Thanksgiving holiday (just a bit), which meant I had an extra holiday laying around. After spending 14 hours in an office with no windows at work yesterday, I asked for permission to play hookie today (Friday).
I wanted to go for a bike ride to finish this week off with a good note. The jefe didn't say no. In fact, I appreciate his enthusiasm, a certain work hard, play hard mentality he can sympathize with, even if it seems he is always working hard.
At work, we've been hustling to turn around a lot of smaller projects with short deadlines. I have nowhere near the most stressful job in the world, but tasks can add up sometimes. Things were unusually fast-paced. My dry-erase to-do list might as well have been on a permanent scroll. I was sprinting to finish off a few tasks today, and was happy to leave the office with little stress on my mind about work. It was a like a sprint, or at least ramping up the energy to keep pace with what's thrown at you.
Tomorrow's ride will be quite different. Instead of using that momentum from a wired mind in the office for a bike ride (as I usually do at Hains), tomorrow will be like a long recovery after a hectic sprint.
One of my favorite parts of every race is the free-lap immediately after the sprint in every crit, or the ride back to the parking lot in a long road race. There's a certain relief in the air that evaporates the seriousness and business-like end of a race.
I'll be riding with two good friends - both new teammates, too. We'll chat and inevitably half-wheel each other. There will be a lightness to our legs knowing that each of us has finished a tough week - they both had exams.
Tomorrow we'll be riding with an attitude of relief and pride that the work, for now, has been done. Except it'll be more like a 70-mile ride back to the parking lot, because there is always another race, whether its on the bike or in the office.
I don't take his leniency for granted, so I use that ride as a serious training workout. On many Mondays, he understand when I want to take the elevator up two flights instead of walking the stairs. He's totally cool with me eating snacks all the time.
As a professional mentor he is more than I could ever ask for. The fact that he allows me some space for my hobbies just makes me appreciative. I wish there were a way I could pay him back, so I try to reciprocate by working hard when the bike isn't a priority.
I've always said I'd rather be busy than bored. I won't change that mindset. As an athlete I feel the same way. If I'm bored, I might as well stop riding and go watch TV. I want to be challenged. My manager has always provided me with enough of a challenge in some way. On his watch, he says, I'm not getting steered off track.
So I've had a fun, busy, and slightly hectic two weeks at work. I had to work on some proposals over the Thanksgiving holiday (just a bit), which meant I had an extra holiday laying around. After spending 14 hours in an office with no windows at work yesterday, I asked for permission to play hookie today (Friday).
I wanted to go for a bike ride to finish this week off with a good note. The jefe didn't say no. In fact, I appreciate his enthusiasm, a certain work hard, play hard mentality he can sympathize with, even if it seems he is always working hard.
At work, we've been hustling to turn around a lot of smaller projects with short deadlines. I have nowhere near the most stressful job in the world, but tasks can add up sometimes. Things were unusually fast-paced. My dry-erase to-do list might as well have been on a permanent scroll. I was sprinting to finish off a few tasks today, and was happy to leave the office with little stress on my mind about work. It was a like a sprint, or at least ramping up the energy to keep pace with what's thrown at you.
Tomorrow's ride will be quite different. Instead of using that momentum from a wired mind in the office for a bike ride (as I usually do at Hains), tomorrow will be like a long recovery after a hectic sprint.
One of my favorite parts of every race is the free-lap immediately after the sprint in every crit, or the ride back to the parking lot in a long road race. There's a certain relief in the air that evaporates the seriousness and business-like end of a race.
I'll be riding with two good friends - both new teammates, too. We'll chat and inevitably half-wheel each other. There will be a lightness to our legs knowing that each of us has finished a tough week - they both had exams.
Tomorrow we'll be riding with an attitude of relief and pride that the work, for now, has been done. Except it'll be more like a 70-mile ride back to the parking lot, because there is always another race, whether its on the bike or in the office.
Friday, December 11, 2009
For the Novices: Choosing your first race.
Since I graduated from GW in the winter of 2006-07, I have supported the GW Cycling team by leading rides and mentoring novice racers. About a month ago, I took up the roll as NCVC's New Member Liaison so we'd have more information flowing to the "freshmen" on that team.
Obviously, I like helping people get into the sport of competitive cycling. One of the questions I hear, receive, and read online quite often is "What are some good races for beginners?" Well I'm sick of typing the same email over and over, so I'll do it once thoroughly here...
- - - -
Racing is binary fact for cyclists. Have you raced? Yes or no. No gray area. If you think you've "maybe" toed the line at an official bike race, then you haven't.
Racing a real USAC-sanctioned race for the first time is akin to losing your virginity. When you're about to get into the action, you may feel like you have no clue what to expect or what's going on. That's normal. This is a sport where you have no choice but to jump into the deep-end when it comes to racing.
Sure, fitness varies and there will always be a sandbagger or two, but anyone in the race can win. Because cycling races are categorized, you know that it's always going to be a fair race. As a novice, you are always racing against people of the same experience level.
Bike racing isn't just about finishing, it's about winning. It's different from other endurance sports (like triathlon or running) because you have to earn your right to race longer distances first by gaining experience and eventually by posting impressive results.
The most important factor leading into any race - novice or elite - is each racer's preparation. The courses have little to do with it. I want to tell you, the novice, to show up fit so you can worry about the skills, and not the struggle. Screw that. Get some skills experience in fast group rides, then jump into a frikken' race and see how you do.
Take some swim lessons, then rip off your floaties and jump into the deep end. Really, as a novice, you'll be kept in the kiddie pool of Cat 5 to gain experience. It's where you can learn the skills you need to survive faster and longer races. Once you pin on the number for 10 mass-start events (not time trials), you're eligible to upgrade to Cat 4. It's nowhere near elite racing, but races will be faster, longer, and more competitive. Post some results and maybe you will be able to upgrade further (here is a link to USA Cycling upgrade regulations).
When someone asks which events are "good races" for prospective racers, I have to assume they really mean "Which races have simple and easy courses?" Choosing a simple course will not necessarily make the race easier because it will actually make the average speed faster. However, you can at least narrow down the chance that your inexperience cornering and climbing might nix you from the race on lap 1.
I realize that races in the Mid-Atlantic Bicycle Racing Association (MABRA = DC/MD/VA) may change yearly. From my experience racing in 2009, here are my suggestions to someone looking for a "simple" race course for their first bike race. I've divided them into types of races: training, criteriums/circuits, and road races. Except for Greenbelt, I also included links to my race reports for those who want to know more about specific events.
For what it's worth, I didn't mention any time trials, because the dead-flat 40-kilometer Church Creek TT is the obvious recommendation and only local time trial.
-
Training Races:
Note for the novices - training races are sanctioned as USAC events, so they count towards your 10 mass-start events to upgrade from Cat 5 to Cat 4. However, once you are in a higher category, you cannot accumulate upgrade points from results in training races. Usually, if you get dropped in a training race, the referees let you jump back into the rear of the group so you can get the experience.
- The Tradezone Training Series (hosted by ABRT I think?) is a weekend training race very early in the season held from mid-February to mid-March. The two-lane course is mostly flat with 4 simple and wide 90-degree turns. Though the pavement has many sewers, dips, and rough spots, one of the course's strengths is that it can be selective. There is usually some wind on the backstretch and an ever-so-slight hill immediately before the final turn. In September, a retired Mid-Atlantic hotshot racer named Bobby Phillips hosts the Turkey Day Bike Race on this course. The prize for winning? A turkey.
- The Greenbelt Training Series, hosted by Arrow Bicycles/Route 1 Velo, held nearly every Wednesday evening from late spring through August, is actually where I first started racing. The fields are smaller, the pavement is perfectly smooth, and it's cheap. The right-lane rule is enforced, but you can usually move around on the downhill after the line. Hold your positioning, though, because things get clogged up on the uphill drag to the finish. The uphill isn't that bad at all, though. Somewhere in the middle opposite the start/finish, there's a simple and smooth 90-degree right turn. Road guards and refs allow some leeway if you cross the yellow line after that corner so you can keep your momentum going.
- -
Criteriums and Circuit Races:
When you hear the word criterium, think Nascar on bikes. A criterium is generally held on a loop at least one kilometer long, but usually not too much more than one mile around. Circuit races are a bit longer, but no more than 5 miles per lap (and there is no free-lap or wheel pit in a circuit race).
Races are timed, usually 30-45 minutes for Cat 5s. Referees take an average time of the first few laps, then calculate how many laps the field will complete in the given time. Racers can then reference lap cards posted at the start finish line to see how much longer they'll be suffering.
- Evolution Cycling hosts the Syn-Fit Criterium. The dead-flat course on a Northern Virginia corporate campus is shaped like a "D" and has perfectly smooth pavement all the way around. The left side of the course has grassy medians that come and go, so it's important to know when they funnel you into the pack so you don't run into a curb. The course may sometimes change direction, but either way the finish line is about 200 meters from the last turn. If you want to place well, you have to come through the final corner near the front of the group.
- Artemis and District Velocity Racing (presented by The Bike Rack) hosted the Dawg Days of Summer Circuit Racein 2009. The course in Bowie, Maryland is a big loop on a scenic corporate campus with only one worrisome, bottleneck/slight turn after the start/finish. On the back stretch, there's a slightly uphill section that is prone to wind - and it's sandwiched by two traffic circles. No worries on the traffic circles, because you only brisk through them, not around them. This race has a downhill stretch into a flat finish that curves slightly to the right. It's windy in the area, but don't miss the winning move that inevitably takes off right before or after the last traffic circle.
- Tyson's Corner Circuit Race, hosted by NCVC, is basically an all-big-ring triangle sitting on the edge of a hill. The entire course is two-lanes wide. Starting at the line near the end of the uphill, you immediately take a 90-degree left onto a dead-flat stretch. Then you turn left again down a very fast and long downhill that bends left and eventually flattens out. Take another 90-degree left, and you're staring at the hill up to the line.
- Ride Sally Ride (hosted by ??) is a great mid-season criterium to sharpen your speed before the upcoming road races. It's on a very short triangular-shaped course with three easy corners. It's not quite flat, but at speed you won't notice the gradient over the wind. The race, in Chantilly, VA, is adjacent to the W&OD trail so you can ride your bike to and from the race. The entire course is FOUR lanes wide on smooth pavement. Seriously.
- Mayor Fenty's cycling team, DC Velo, hosts the Carl Dolan Circuit Race. The race is held on a 2.1 mile oval, with only one 90-degree turn about 1 kilometer from the finish. The course two lanes wide the entire time, and mostly flat except for a gradually more speedy drop into that turn. After the turn, there's a stretch of flat before a hill to the finish. Don't stop sprinting after the hill, though, the line's a bit farther than you think. At Dolan, there is usually a Cat 5 field in the morning and a Cat 4/5 field in the afternoon. It's always nice when the lower categories can race twice in one day. Just protect your wheels from the abundant sewer caps.
- - -
Road Races
Road Races are not usually point-to-point races like you see in the Tour. RRs are loops at least 5 miles long, and Cat 5 events are usually between 25 and 35 miles long, give or take.
Races are held on open roads, so referees ride motorcycles to keep racers in check and usually a few police vehicles lead and follow the race to keep traffic away from cyclists. Usually, races enforce a "center-line rule" which mean you're supposed to stay in the right lane no matter what. If you're lucky, a race will be "full enclosure" which means the entire road is yours to attack, because the police escorts are protecting you from oncoming traffic. Most of the time, there's also a "wheel truck" to provide spares if you flat.
- Locally, you can take a training ride to preview the race course of the Michael P. Murad Memorial Road Race. The race, hosted by the All-American Bicycle Center team, is sometimes on narrow roads but not technical at all. You'll start and end the race on Hughes Road, passing through Sugarland, Partnership, and River Roads. There are some sharp corners and a few potholes, but if you're vigilant they won't influence the race one bit. Race pace will keep you in the big-ring, although there are a few ups and downs to the terrain - nothing major. The organizers also give you great bang for buck. Races are long enough to make it worth the 1-hour drive from DC and race fee, but the event also has a reputation for cashing out some nice prizes.
- If you want to get in a real race while everyone else is at the first Tradezone training race, drive a few extra hours down to Sanford, NC for the Wolfpack Road Race hosted by the NC State Cycling Team. The course is an impressively long and smooth 18-mile loop that's mostly flat, but has a pair of short, big-ring kickers in the last few miles (one is about a kilometer before the flat drag to the line). Even though the race is held on Valentine's day weekend, the weather has historically been in the high 50s to mid 60s. Nice. If the long drive to and from the 36-mile Cat 5 race on Saturday is a deterrent, double up for the weekend Sunday at NC State's on-campus criterium.
- - - -
Again, I listed these particular events because I've raced them myself and I liked them. So for you new guys, I linked the to my race reports if you're really curious about the course. Don't limit your choices to this selection, there are plenty more events on the 2010 MABRA calendar.
If you're a fellow racer that knows of a MABRA course I may have missed or a new "simple course" for 2010, please put your suggestion in the comments.
See you at the races.
Obviously, I like helping people get into the sport of competitive cycling. One of the questions I hear, receive, and read online quite often is "What are some good races for beginners?" Well I'm sick of typing the same email over and over, so I'll do it once thoroughly here...
- - - -
Racing is binary fact for cyclists. Have you raced? Yes or no. No gray area. If you think you've "maybe" toed the line at an official bike race, then you haven't.
Racing a real USAC-sanctioned race for the first time is akin to losing your virginity. When you're about to get into the action, you may feel like you have no clue what to expect or what's going on. That's normal. This is a sport where you have no choice but to jump into the deep-end when it comes to racing.
Sure, fitness varies and there will always be a sandbagger or two, but anyone in the race can win. Because cycling races are categorized, you know that it's always going to be a fair race. As a novice, you are always racing against people of the same experience level.
Bike racing isn't just about finishing, it's about winning. It's different from other endurance sports (like triathlon or running) because you have to earn your right to race longer distances first by gaining experience and eventually by posting impressive results.
The most important factor leading into any race - novice or elite - is each racer's preparation. The courses have little to do with it. I want to tell you, the novice, to show up fit so you can worry about the skills, and not the struggle. Screw that. Get some skills experience in fast group rides, then jump into a frikken' race and see how you do.
Take some swim lessons, then rip off your floaties and jump into the deep end. Really, as a novice, you'll be kept in the kiddie pool of Cat 5 to gain experience. It's where you can learn the skills you need to survive faster and longer races. Once you pin on the number for 10 mass-start events (not time trials), you're eligible to upgrade to Cat 4. It's nowhere near elite racing, but races will be faster, longer, and more competitive. Post some results and maybe you will be able to upgrade further (here is a link to USA Cycling upgrade regulations).
When someone asks which events are "good races" for prospective racers, I have to assume they really mean "Which races have simple and easy courses?" Choosing a simple course will not necessarily make the race easier because it will actually make the average speed faster. However, you can at least narrow down the chance that your inexperience cornering and climbing might nix you from the race on lap 1.
I realize that races in the Mid-Atlantic Bicycle Racing Association (MABRA = DC/MD/VA) may change yearly. From my experience racing in 2009, here are my suggestions to someone looking for a "simple" race course for their first bike race. I've divided them into types of races: training, criteriums/circuits, and road races. Except for Greenbelt, I also included links to my race reports for those who want to know more about specific events.
For what it's worth, I didn't mention any time trials, because the dead-flat 40-kilometer Church Creek TT is the obvious recommendation and only local time trial.
-
Training Races:
Note for the novices - training races are sanctioned as USAC events, so they count towards your 10 mass-start events to upgrade from Cat 5 to Cat 4. However, once you are in a higher category, you cannot accumulate upgrade points from results in training races. Usually, if you get dropped in a training race, the referees let you jump back into the rear of the group so you can get the experience.
- The Tradezone Training Series (hosted by ABRT I think?) is a weekend training race very early in the season held from mid-February to mid-March. The two-lane course is mostly flat with 4 simple and wide 90-degree turns. Though the pavement has many sewers, dips, and rough spots, one of the course's strengths is that it can be selective. There is usually some wind on the backstretch and an ever-so-slight hill immediately before the final turn. In September, a retired Mid-Atlantic hotshot racer named Bobby Phillips hosts the Turkey Day Bike Race on this course. The prize for winning? A turkey.
- The Greenbelt Training Series, hosted by Arrow Bicycles/Route 1 Velo, held nearly every Wednesday evening from late spring through August, is actually where I first started racing. The fields are smaller, the pavement is perfectly smooth, and it's cheap. The right-lane rule is enforced, but you can usually move around on the downhill after the line. Hold your positioning, though, because things get clogged up on the uphill drag to the finish. The uphill isn't that bad at all, though. Somewhere in the middle opposite the start/finish, there's a simple and smooth 90-degree right turn. Road guards and refs allow some leeway if you cross the yellow line after that corner so you can keep your momentum going.
- -
Criteriums and Circuit Races:
When you hear the word criterium, think Nascar on bikes. A criterium is generally held on a loop at least one kilometer long, but usually not too much more than one mile around. Circuit races are a bit longer, but no more than 5 miles per lap (and there is no free-lap or wheel pit in a circuit race).
Races are timed, usually 30-45 minutes for Cat 5s. Referees take an average time of the first few laps, then calculate how many laps the field will complete in the given time. Racers can then reference lap cards posted at the start finish line to see how much longer they'll be suffering.
- Evolution Cycling hosts the Syn-Fit Criterium. The dead-flat course on a Northern Virginia corporate campus is shaped like a "D" and has perfectly smooth pavement all the way around. The left side of the course has grassy medians that come and go, so it's important to know when they funnel you into the pack so you don't run into a curb. The course may sometimes change direction, but either way the finish line is about 200 meters from the last turn. If you want to place well, you have to come through the final corner near the front of the group.
- Artemis and District Velocity Racing (presented by The Bike Rack) hosted the Dawg Days of Summer Circuit Racein 2009. The course in Bowie, Maryland is a big loop on a scenic corporate campus with only one worrisome, bottleneck/slight turn after the start/finish. On the back stretch, there's a slightly uphill section that is prone to wind - and it's sandwiched by two traffic circles. No worries on the traffic circles, because you only brisk through them, not around them. This race has a downhill stretch into a flat finish that curves slightly to the right. It's windy in the area, but don't miss the winning move that inevitably takes off right before or after the last traffic circle.
- Tyson's Corner Circuit Race, hosted by NCVC, is basically an all-big-ring triangle sitting on the edge of a hill. The entire course is two-lanes wide. Starting at the line near the end of the uphill, you immediately take a 90-degree left onto a dead-flat stretch. Then you turn left again down a very fast and long downhill that bends left and eventually flattens out. Take another 90-degree left, and you're staring at the hill up to the line.
- Ride Sally Ride (hosted by ??) is a great mid-season criterium to sharpen your speed before the upcoming road races. It's on a very short triangular-shaped course with three easy corners. It's not quite flat, but at speed you won't notice the gradient over the wind. The race, in Chantilly, VA, is adjacent to the W&OD trail so you can ride your bike to and from the race. The entire course is FOUR lanes wide on smooth pavement. Seriously.
- Mayor Fenty's cycling team, DC Velo, hosts the Carl Dolan Circuit Race. The race is held on a 2.1 mile oval, with only one 90-degree turn about 1 kilometer from the finish. The course two lanes wide the entire time, and mostly flat except for a gradually more speedy drop into that turn. After the turn, there's a stretch of flat before a hill to the finish. Don't stop sprinting after the hill, though, the line's a bit farther than you think. At Dolan, there is usually a Cat 5 field in the morning and a Cat 4/5 field in the afternoon. It's always nice when the lower categories can race twice in one day. Just protect your wheels from the abundant sewer caps.
- - -
Road Races
Road Races are not usually point-to-point races like you see in the Tour. RRs are loops at least 5 miles long, and Cat 5 events are usually between 25 and 35 miles long, give or take.
Races are held on open roads, so referees ride motorcycles to keep racers in check and usually a few police vehicles lead and follow the race to keep traffic away from cyclists. Usually, races enforce a "center-line rule" which mean you're supposed to stay in the right lane no matter what. If you're lucky, a race will be "full enclosure" which means the entire road is yours to attack, because the police escorts are protecting you from oncoming traffic. Most of the time, there's also a "wheel truck" to provide spares if you flat.
- Locally, you can take a training ride to preview the race course of the Michael P. Murad Memorial Road Race. The race, hosted by the All-American Bicycle Center team, is sometimes on narrow roads but not technical at all. You'll start and end the race on Hughes Road, passing through Sugarland, Partnership, and River Roads. There are some sharp corners and a few potholes, but if you're vigilant they won't influence the race one bit. Race pace will keep you in the big-ring, although there are a few ups and downs to the terrain - nothing major. The organizers also give you great bang for buck. Races are long enough to make it worth the 1-hour drive from DC and race fee, but the event also has a reputation for cashing out some nice prizes.
- If you want to get in a real race while everyone else is at the first Tradezone training race, drive a few extra hours down to Sanford, NC for the Wolfpack Road Race hosted by the NC State Cycling Team. The course is an impressively long and smooth 18-mile loop that's mostly flat, but has a pair of short, big-ring kickers in the last few miles (one is about a kilometer before the flat drag to the line). Even though the race is held on Valentine's day weekend, the weather has historically been in the high 50s to mid 60s. Nice. If the long drive to and from the 36-mile Cat 5 race on Saturday is a deterrent, double up for the weekend Sunday at NC State's on-campus criterium.
- - - -
Again, I listed these particular events because I've raced them myself and I liked them. So for you new guys, I linked the to my race reports if you're really curious about the course. Don't limit your choices to this selection, there are plenty more events on the 2010 MABRA calendar.
If you're a fellow racer that knows of a MABRA course I may have missed or a new "simple course" for 2010, please put your suggestion in the comments.
See you at the races.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Monkey in the Middle, Part II
I've had many thoughts brewing (see Part I) about the weird non-elite, yet non-novice niche that Cat 3s find themselves in. With teams like Gamjams (aka MABRA's Menudo) starting up to spoil the middle children of amateur bike racing, I'm sure it's not just me that feels this way.
A few weeks ago, riding back into the city alone, I passed two other cyclists on that final MacArthur hill up to the Most Expensive Gas Station Ever. I wasn't going nuts - just riding tempo, then accelerating on the downhill for the DC line into the Palisades.
Apparently, one cyclist was trying to keep pace with me. After the line he gasped, "I almost got you!"
I did not know there had been a race going on, so I smiled politely and said, “Beautiful day for a bike ride, huh?” That’s my default greeting to any cyclist I see on the road. It could be a 30-degree hailstorm in the dark, but that’s what I will always say to a fellow cyclist.
Honestly, the guy seemed surprised that a guy in a team kit was acknowledging his presence in such a friendly way. I’m a pretty friendly guy when I meet other random pedal pushers, but I was also finishing up the latter half of 80 miles on my own. I welcomed any company.
Small talking, he asks me a question in the most awkward tone, as if he was asking about my political affiliation or sex life. With a tone similar to a dude asking to take out my sister, he said the following with blatent curiosity:
“What category are you?”
“Cat 3,” I tersely responded.
“Oh, wow. How far have you ridden?”
I responded that I had ridden 78 miles that day - and counting. I did not say it, but this was a very long ride for me. Then I asked him the same questions. He had never raced before, and was finishing a ride of about half the distance.
After that exchange, he told me it “made sense” that I “beat him,” and that he felt much better about it. I guess he forgot that I had been on the bike for over four hours.
Amateur bike racers aren't superhuman; we're people too – especially us Cat 3s that are stuck in the middle of the spectrum among elites and novices. This random cyclist was so intimidated by the label of “cat 3 racer” that he was using it as an excuse to lose a meaningless town-line sprint. That bothered me.
The category system labels every bike racer. It is a great system to encourage and enforce fair racing. Outside of racing, however, your category places a prejudice on how other cyclists perceive you.
Appropriately, I think we all feel the pressure to “live up” to our Category. I sure do; I don’t want to suck. Unfortunately, we make assumptions about every racer knowing only their Category.
In a race, I think you have to take the Any Given Sunday approach that I was taught as a rower: Usually, a racer’s instinct about who the strongest competitors are is right on target. Believing those instincts during a race will only reinforce the predictions – you’ll have a harder time coming around the tree-trunk legged sprinter if you think he can’t be beat.
Every now and then, you can surprise yourself by accidentally kicking ass. With the right preparation and an ounce of belief, you can rip apart your own predictions. On any given Sunday, you can beat anyone. The stars might have to align, but it’s possible.
When the stars do align, all categories, reputations, and past results are as significant in forming the outcome as tall tales and myths.
So what's the big deal with categories? Die-hard racer or not, we all are just spandex-wearing athletes with a bit of an obsession for expensive toys and a lot of free time.
I am a Cat 3 that has only competed in 30 bike races – total. I may have proven my strength and savvy as a novice, but I will never doubt that I have a lot to learn. I have teammates that have raced 30 times per year for decades. Yet when it comes to strength, I know Cat 1/2s that are perpetually out of shape and Cat 4s that could drop me before the first hill of a group ride (Chapel and Hakken usually keep the groups together, though).
When I told this non-racing cyclist that I was a Cat 3, he was clearly impressed and overwhelmed. He acted like he had never spoken with a Cat 3 before.
(Perhaps it was the other way around – that a Cat 3 or any serious-looking club cyclist had never given him the time of day. It definitely crossed my mind that most club cyclists are too arrogant, in-the-zone, or indifferent to acknowledge the world around them while riding.)
I am a Cat 3, but I ride and race bikes purely for fun. I try to prepare myself adequately, but I do not sacrifice much to do it. I still work more than full time, stay up late, sleep in, drink beer, and eat ice cream (not necessarily in that order).
It elates me that he tried to race me, though. That’s one thing that makes me love this sport. Whether or not you have a USAC category, you want to race. I did not know it at the time, but the guy was trying to keep up with me over that final hill so he could kick my ass. His ignorance became his courage.
I hope he went home later that afternoon and bragged every exaggerated detail to his wife: “This really serious-looking Cat 3 raced me to the DC line! I almost beat him but (insert excuse here)! He said I should try racing and invited me to ride with him!”
I sure did tell him to race and invited him to ride with me again. On the way back into DC, I half-wheel the hell out of him. It hurt my legs and lungs, but I wanted to test him a bit more. It didn’t faze him.
He was a nice guy with strong legs, and he could tolerate riding with a not-so-pompous Cat 3 like me as I clearly shifted the pace into his red zone while talking his ears off.
Mostly, I am certain that he wanted a rematch against the Cat 3: He still wanted to try to kick my ass in a sprint.
That sounds like a bike racer to me.
- - - -
...long two-part post, thanks for reading.
A few weeks ago, riding back into the city alone, I passed two other cyclists on that final MacArthur hill up to the Most Expensive Gas Station Ever. I wasn't going nuts - just riding tempo, then accelerating on the downhill for the DC line into the Palisades.
Apparently, one cyclist was trying to keep pace with me. After the line he gasped, "I almost got you!"
I did not know there had been a race going on, so I smiled politely and said, “Beautiful day for a bike ride, huh?” That’s my default greeting to any cyclist I see on the road. It could be a 30-degree hailstorm in the dark, but that’s what I will always say to a fellow cyclist.
Honestly, the guy seemed surprised that a guy in a team kit was acknowledging his presence in such a friendly way. I’m a pretty friendly guy when I meet other random pedal pushers, but I was also finishing up the latter half of 80 miles on my own. I welcomed any company.
Small talking, he asks me a question in the most awkward tone, as if he was asking about my political affiliation or sex life. With a tone similar to a dude asking to take out my sister, he said the following with blatent curiosity:
“What category are you?”
“Cat 3,” I tersely responded.
“Oh, wow. How far have you ridden?”
I responded that I had ridden 78 miles that day - and counting. I did not say it, but this was a very long ride for me. Then I asked him the same questions. He had never raced before, and was finishing a ride of about half the distance.
After that exchange, he told me it “made sense” that I “beat him,” and that he felt much better about it. I guess he forgot that I had been on the bike for over four hours.
Amateur bike racers aren't superhuman; we're people too – especially us Cat 3s that are stuck in the middle of the spectrum among elites and novices. This random cyclist was so intimidated by the label of “cat 3 racer” that he was using it as an excuse to lose a meaningless town-line sprint. That bothered me.
The category system labels every bike racer. It is a great system to encourage and enforce fair racing. Outside of racing, however, your category places a prejudice on how other cyclists perceive you.
Appropriately, I think we all feel the pressure to “live up” to our Category. I sure do; I don’t want to suck. Unfortunately, we make assumptions about every racer knowing only their Category.
In a race, I think you have to take the Any Given Sunday approach that I was taught as a rower: Usually, a racer’s instinct about who the strongest competitors are is right on target. Believing those instincts during a race will only reinforce the predictions – you’ll have a harder time coming around the tree-trunk legged sprinter if you think he can’t be beat.
Every now and then, you can surprise yourself by accidentally kicking ass. With the right preparation and an ounce of belief, you can rip apart your own predictions. On any given Sunday, you can beat anyone. The stars might have to align, but it’s possible.
When the stars do align, all categories, reputations, and past results are as significant in forming the outcome as tall tales and myths.
So what's the big deal with categories? Die-hard racer or not, we all are just spandex-wearing athletes with a bit of an obsession for expensive toys and a lot of free time.
I am a Cat 3 that has only competed in 30 bike races – total. I may have proven my strength and savvy as a novice, but I will never doubt that I have a lot to learn. I have teammates that have raced 30 times per year for decades. Yet when it comes to strength, I know Cat 1/2s that are perpetually out of shape and Cat 4s that could drop me before the first hill of a group ride (Chapel and Hakken usually keep the groups together, though).
When I told this non-racing cyclist that I was a Cat 3, he was clearly impressed and overwhelmed. He acted like he had never spoken with a Cat 3 before.
(Perhaps it was the other way around – that a Cat 3 or any serious-looking club cyclist had never given him the time of day. It definitely crossed my mind that most club cyclists are too arrogant, in-the-zone, or indifferent to acknowledge the world around them while riding.)
I am a Cat 3, but I ride and race bikes purely for fun. I try to prepare myself adequately, but I do not sacrifice much to do it. I still work more than full time, stay up late, sleep in, drink beer, and eat ice cream (not necessarily in that order).
It elates me that he tried to race me, though. That’s one thing that makes me love this sport. Whether or not you have a USAC category, you want to race. I did not know it at the time, but the guy was trying to keep up with me over that final hill so he could kick my ass. His ignorance became his courage.
I hope he went home later that afternoon and bragged every exaggerated detail to his wife: “This really serious-looking Cat 3 raced me to the DC line! I almost beat him but (insert excuse here)! He said I should try racing and invited me to ride with him!”
I sure did tell him to race and invited him to ride with me again. On the way back into DC, I half-wheel the hell out of him. It hurt my legs and lungs, but I wanted to test him a bit more. It didn’t faze him.
He was a nice guy with strong legs, and he could tolerate riding with a not-so-pompous Cat 3 like me as I clearly shifted the pace into his red zone while talking his ears off.
Mostly, I am certain that he wanted a rematch against the Cat 3: He still wanted to try to kick my ass in a sprint.
That sounds like a bike racer to me.
- - - -
...long two-part post, thanks for reading.
Monkey in the Middle, Part I
I try not to be too pompous as a cyclist, because I like riding with other people. Few are up for the long miles when it’s cold, though. They always have stuff to do or are shivering after an hour. Many folks also have little need to ride more than 50 miles.
As a Cat 3 that wants to be competitive in road races and not just circuits or criteriums, it is my obligation to myself to pedal endlessly. In order to race 60 miles, I have to ride at least that distance, often. In the past month, I’ve ridden a number of 60-80 mile rides with that in mind.
I often feel like the monkey in the middle of the team as a Cat 3. The 4/5 guys are not as serious or are not always up for the challenge of longer miles (even at a chill pace). When less experienced folks do tag along, it’s more difficult to discipline the tempo. On plenty of rides, I’ve definitely been the guilty party randomizing the pace. I’ll admit that.
If I am not taking the lead, I get the hell out of the way. Do as the Romans. Not too long ago on a long ride with elite guys, I heard a Cat 1 teammate gripe to himself of another antsy rider’s style, “Too hard to go easy, to easy to go hard.” Thankfully, that day, I was behaving.
In addition to the differing ambition to ride distances, as a Cat 3 it’s difficult to get your foot in the door to ride with the elite guys. Many of them just don’t know you exist yet, or have no clue who you are. Most just like doing their own thing; they’ve earned their stripes to be rightfully skeptical about who is riding with them.
I want to surround myself with every opportunity to learn from stronger and more experienced guys, so I’m quasi-crashing a few Cat 1/2 group rides. Usually, the guys don’t really announce it anywhere or to anyone. I’m pretty sure two guys just agree on a time and then they just let the grapevine do the rest.
“You riding? Let’s meet up.” You just have to be in the loop.
This time of year, the rides are a few chatty hours of nothing special. On one ride I did with a few of the NCVC “elite” guys, we postponed our meeting time the night before, then rolled out at a casual hour that allowed everyone to adequately caffeinate themselves (30 minutes later than expected).
We had no route, so the ride basically became “follow the leader.” Whoever was at the head of the group would choose the direction at the next intersection. After a couple of hours, we started heading back downtown. Strong but steady pace, constant double-paceline rotations, good mileage. All objectives accomplished – no complaints.
It was so casual yet strong, steady, and long; it was awesome training.
After that ride, a concerned novice from the GW team asked me why I hadn't told him to tag along. He questioned why I rode with those guys instead of the GW group I usually help lead.
As much as I want to give people the opportunity to grow, I had to explain to him that this wasn't "my ride." On this occasion, it was my own opportunity to grow; I was the new guy here.
I told him that as a Cat 3, I was the low guy on the totem pole in that group - a similar role he assumes on the GW rides as one of the many novices.
I was truly sympathetic, but he understood.
As a Cat 3 that wants to be competitive in road races and not just circuits or criteriums, it is my obligation to myself to pedal endlessly. In order to race 60 miles, I have to ride at least that distance, often. In the past month, I’ve ridden a number of 60-80 mile rides with that in mind.
I often feel like the monkey in the middle of the team as a Cat 3. The 4/5 guys are not as serious or are not always up for the challenge of longer miles (even at a chill pace). When less experienced folks do tag along, it’s more difficult to discipline the tempo. On plenty of rides, I’ve definitely been the guilty party randomizing the pace. I’ll admit that.
If I am not taking the lead, I get the hell out of the way. Do as the Romans. Not too long ago on a long ride with elite guys, I heard a Cat 1 teammate gripe to himself of another antsy rider’s style, “Too hard to go easy, to easy to go hard.” Thankfully, that day, I was behaving.
In addition to the differing ambition to ride distances, as a Cat 3 it’s difficult to get your foot in the door to ride with the elite guys. Many of them just don’t know you exist yet, or have no clue who you are. Most just like doing their own thing; they’ve earned their stripes to be rightfully skeptical about who is riding with them.
I want to surround myself with every opportunity to learn from stronger and more experienced guys, so I’m quasi-crashing a few Cat 1/2 group rides. Usually, the guys don’t really announce it anywhere or to anyone. I’m pretty sure two guys just agree on a time and then they just let the grapevine do the rest.
“You riding? Let’s meet up.” You just have to be in the loop.
This time of year, the rides are a few chatty hours of nothing special. On one ride I did with a few of the NCVC “elite” guys, we postponed our meeting time the night before, then rolled out at a casual hour that allowed everyone to adequately caffeinate themselves (30 minutes later than expected).
We had no route, so the ride basically became “follow the leader.” Whoever was at the head of the group would choose the direction at the next intersection. After a couple of hours, we started heading back downtown. Strong but steady pace, constant double-paceline rotations, good mileage. All objectives accomplished – no complaints.
It was so casual yet strong, steady, and long; it was awesome training.
After that ride, a concerned novice from the GW team asked me why I hadn't told him to tag along. He questioned why I rode with those guys instead of the GW group I usually help lead.
As much as I want to give people the opportunity to grow, I had to explain to him that this wasn't "my ride." On this occasion, it was my own opportunity to grow; I was the new guy here.
I told him that as a Cat 3, I was the low guy on the totem pole in that group - a similar role he assumes on the GW rides as one of the many novices.
I was truly sympathetic, but he understood.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Riding in a Winter Wonderland
The purpose of my helmet yesterday wasn't to protect my noggin should I crash, but to save my cranium from falling chunks of ice.
If you rode yesterday, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. The brisk temperatures and moderate winds were worth the burden; the scenery was beautiful. With some of my best riding pals, we did a fairly regular route - one that I did not recognize one bit.
(We headed out MacArthur, up Old Angler's to Falls, headed out on South Glen, but took Esworthy left as a shortcut back to River Road. Then we continued our shortcut back to Persimmon, and back into town on MacArthur.)
Sam, Cat, and Schlomo rode with me after a minute-man approach to riding plans ("Meet you in 45 minutes, let's ride!").
All of us were wearing our new GW kits, and the plan was simply to pedal. Schlomo told me "Let's just ride hard enough to stay warm." We paced the ride at the minimum effort it took to keep blood flowing to our extremities, and I was content with that.
Potomac, Maryland had never looked so serene to me. Over-antsy churchgoers in a BMW X5 peeled out past us on the wet roads once, but the suburban area was about as calm as it could have been for a Sunday afternoon.
We took off from downtown, where the warm pavement instantly melted any snow on Saturday. Outside of the city on Sunday, there was snow everywhere, except on the soaked and over-salted roads. The biggest annoyance was the wet salt from the roads kicking up from tires to burn my chapped lips.
On parts of MacArthur - the curvy beginning after the fork, and the hill up to Great Falls - I didn't recognize a road I've ridden hundreds of times. It was a tunnel of white-speckled trees. Usually, when it has snowed, I'm hunkered inside. The sun came out yesterday, but the snow hung tough for me and my riding pals.
At times they were cold and complaining about it. Except for my toes, I was warm enough simply because I was on my bike. Our new white kits matched not only our small group to each other - but to our unusual local surroundings. Yesterday afternoon, cold as it was, there were few places I rather would have been would any other people
After an hour, I asked about which loop we should take to get back to River Road. I was hoping they'd say something epic - Berryville to Black Rock or something similarly stupid - but they were too cold.
Schlomo only had knee warmers on his legs and Catherine's body hadn't acclimated to this winter's temperatures yet. My legs had as much (or as little) punchiness as a sleepy nun, but at least I was enjoying the ride. They were death-marching themselves in our perfectly balanced paceline so we'd get back home quicker.
Throughout the ride, the stronger legs would take longer pulls - this is how a group ride is supposed to work. Dan and I would relax up hills and then create a draft for the girls as much as possible. Sam would punch the wind too, but her 44 cm frame puts her at the height of a gopher, not a cyclist. We are all good friends, but this was the quietest ride we'd ever done - also the smoothest.
By the time we'd crossed Falls and turned onto Persimmon, we were ferrying Catherine's cold legs along. She just kept spinning her numb toes to keep up and get home. Sam turned up Goldsboro to her warm abode, saying "have a good ride home" with a smart-ass grin on her face. I love that final part of MacArthur, though, with slight curves on a false-downhill. It makes you feel strong on your weakest rides - like this one.
She did keep up - until Dan put a bit more weight on his pedals past the Most Expensive Gas Station Ever. I followed Schlomo down the hill, and pulled along side him early to make it a fair sprint to the DC line at the Palisades. It wasn't much of a sprint, though. We were both in slow motion ironically assuming each others' typical roles: he spun-up early but never kicked hard, and I was over-geared.
As we got into town, life returned to normal. There was more traffic and less snow. Less calm silence and more urban mayhem. For a day that would usually have been spent on the trainer, I'm glad I got to ride.
Hopefully Catherine's got her feelings back in her toes, and Schlomo's asking Hanukkah Harry for some tights.
If you rode yesterday, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. The brisk temperatures and moderate winds were worth the burden; the scenery was beautiful. With some of my best riding pals, we did a fairly regular route - one that I did not recognize one bit.
(We headed out MacArthur, up Old Angler's to Falls, headed out on South Glen, but took Esworthy left as a shortcut back to River Road. Then we continued our shortcut back to Persimmon, and back into town on MacArthur.)
Sam, Cat, and Schlomo rode with me after a minute-man approach to riding plans ("Meet you in 45 minutes, let's ride!").
All of us were wearing our new GW kits, and the plan was simply to pedal. Schlomo told me "Let's just ride hard enough to stay warm." We paced the ride at the minimum effort it took to keep blood flowing to our extremities, and I was content with that.
Potomac, Maryland had never looked so serene to me. Over-antsy churchgoers in a BMW X5 peeled out past us on the wet roads once, but the suburban area was about as calm as it could have been for a Sunday afternoon.
We took off from downtown, where the warm pavement instantly melted any snow on Saturday. Outside of the city on Sunday, there was snow everywhere, except on the soaked and over-salted roads. The biggest annoyance was the wet salt from the roads kicking up from tires to burn my chapped lips.
On parts of MacArthur - the curvy beginning after the fork, and the hill up to Great Falls - I didn't recognize a road I've ridden hundreds of times. It was a tunnel of white-speckled trees. Usually, when it has snowed, I'm hunkered inside. The sun came out yesterday, but the snow hung tough for me and my riding pals.
At times they were cold and complaining about it. Except for my toes, I was warm enough simply because I was on my bike. Our new white kits matched not only our small group to each other - but to our unusual local surroundings. Yesterday afternoon, cold as it was, there were few places I rather would have been would any other people
After an hour, I asked about which loop we should take to get back to River Road. I was hoping they'd say something epic - Berryville to Black Rock or something similarly stupid - but they were too cold.
Schlomo only had knee warmers on his legs and Catherine's body hadn't acclimated to this winter's temperatures yet. My legs had as much (or as little) punchiness as a sleepy nun, but at least I was enjoying the ride. They were death-marching themselves in our perfectly balanced paceline so we'd get back home quicker.
Throughout the ride, the stronger legs would take longer pulls - this is how a group ride is supposed to work. Dan and I would relax up hills and then create a draft for the girls as much as possible. Sam would punch the wind too, but her 44 cm frame puts her at the height of a gopher, not a cyclist. We are all good friends, but this was the quietest ride we'd ever done - also the smoothest.
By the time we'd crossed Falls and turned onto Persimmon, we were ferrying Catherine's cold legs along. She just kept spinning her numb toes to keep up and get home. Sam turned up Goldsboro to her warm abode, saying "have a good ride home" with a smart-ass grin on her face. I love that final part of MacArthur, though, with slight curves on a false-downhill. It makes you feel strong on your weakest rides - like this one.
She did keep up - until Dan put a bit more weight on his pedals past the Most Expensive Gas Station Ever. I followed Schlomo down the hill, and pulled along side him early to make it a fair sprint to the DC line at the Palisades. It wasn't much of a sprint, though. We were both in slow motion ironically assuming each others' typical roles: he spun-up early but never kicked hard, and I was over-geared.
As we got into town, life returned to normal. There was more traffic and less snow. Less calm silence and more urban mayhem. For a day that would usually have been spent on the trainer, I'm glad I got to ride.
Hopefully Catherine's got her feelings back in her toes, and Schlomo's asking Hanukkah Harry for some tights.
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