A Bit Flat.

I had done a few miles at intensity the previous two days, and I was starting to feel the weariness around my eyes. I had the bike on the car, the bag full of kit sitting by my desk, and the sky was blue. I really couldn't say no.

As I walked out, I checked which way the headquarters flag was blowing. It was one of the rare days where I would get a tailwind on the way out. From the way the flag was stretched out, a pretty good one.

I went with it, pushing harder than normal and hitting waypoints far faster than I usually do. I almost felt like I had some talent. I knew I had to turn around and face the music eventually, but I burned the matches anyway. I'd put it in the small chainring and spin easy on the way back- I had extra time thanks to the enhanced speed of the outbound trip.

Sure enough, I hit a wall as I turned around. I ran out of gears, but that didn't prevent me for periodically looking for more. I ducked low, trying to reduce my profile any way I could. I cursed …

Not Good Enough.

Every time I do any kind of intervals these days, I'm reminded that I don't do nearly enough of them. Long ones, short ones... doesn't matter, I'm just not doing as many as I should be doing to gain my desired fitness. Then again, I have pretty unrealistic goals (e.g. not sucking so much), so it's going to take a whole lot of focused interval training to make any real progress towards them.

Today was 30 second VO2max intervals with two minute of recovery in between. My legs failed on the last one, which shows I was doing them right. With more recovery, I would have likely pushed more power across all of the intervals, but the goal was to train recovery from intensity rather than bump up peak power.

Hammering, resting for a brief period, and then hammering again is something the young take for granted. Their bodies can take a lot of abuse, because they don't have decades of accumulated wear and tear built up. They have vast quantities of substances naturally cour…

Take Your Medicine.

In the compressed world of my elevation graph, Hiland road looks like a seven mile steady climb.

The truth is, it's not all climbing. There's false flats, flats, and even a dip or two. Few of these are long enough that you'd notice them going up. What you're focused on is that next stretch of up that may or may not extend past that next corner. It's seven miles of suck.

I can't say I've ever had an awesome ride up Hiland. Mainly it's a lot of lactic acid and straining and sweating and going really, really slow. However, like a tetanus booster after you slash your hand on some rusty metal, it probably is good for you in the long run.

I picked a beautiful day to climb it. Sun and warm temperatures dominated, so I was melting as I climbed up. The lack of shoulder only was a problem when a car passed me, wheezing in its own way. Nobody was having a great time. No records were in danger of being broken, but I kept my steady pace.

At the top, which abruptly end…

It's Not Your Race.

Last week at the Kulis crit I saw something I don't particularly like. The people I saw do it are people I like and respect, but it doesn't make it any less wrong. In fact. that sort of behavior can have a seriously negative impact on road racing in the area.

Ever since we started the crit series, we've allowed riders to jump in other races if the field wasn't large. It fills out the pack and gives more people to draft behind. If there are no complaints from the field, it seems to work well. A lot of the time it's in a race higher than they usually compete in, to give them a taste of what the next level is like or a bump in intensity. I've done it, and I made it a point to sit at the back because:
I'm lazy.I probably don't have the energy/fitness/motivation to do anything anyway.I don't want my inevitable implosion to gap anyone off the back.The last one is the most important point. I don't want my actions to affect someone else's race. If I&#…

I'm Not That Guy.

Let me put it right out there- I am not a fan of triathlons.

A lot of this has to do with my knees preventing me from running anymore. Sure, I can run, but I want to walk and do other things when I'm 50. The wear and tear became too much, and I eventually found the bike, which I liked far, far more than I ever liked running.

I grew up swimming. I raced for a brief time when I was a kid, before I realized Speedos on my scrawny physique weren't appealing to anyone and my aptitude for competitive swimming was limited. But yeah, I spent a lot of time swimming in lakes and rivers. It was just something I grew up doing.

Like most roadies, I give triathletes a lot of crap. I also get my ass handed to me on a regular basis by triathletes, because they spend all of their times working on the diesel. If I can hold their wheel, I can usually come around them in a sprint. Again, if I can hold their wheel. Time trials? I get crushed. Hill climbs? Crushed. All I'm good for is wheel-sucking…

A Horrible, Horrible Miscalculation On Their Part.

"Just when I thought I was out... they pull me back in."    -Michael Corleone
There was a brief time in the not-too-distant past when I was on the Arctic Bicycle Club Road Division board. Then, for various reasons that aren't worth going into, I wasn't.

Now it looks like I am again.

I'm hoping to influence some positive change with my charismatic personality, irresistible charm, razor-sharp wit, rugged good looks, and tendency to argue a point of view long since discredited by peer-reviewed research studies with a fervor that results in the labels "asshole", "fucking asshole", "self-important fucking asshole", and some I can't repeat in such genteel company being cast in my general direction. They certainly can't be talking about me. Must be referring to someone standing behind me. Hate when that happens.

I'm hoping the other members can offset my dynamism, lest the whole organization become just a realization of my comprehe…

Reality Check.

 Brett: No, no, I just want you to know... I just want you to know how sorry we are that things got so fucked up with us and Mr. Wallace. We got into this thing with the best intentions and I never... Jules: [Jules shoots the man on the couch] I'm sorry, did I break your concentration? I didn't mean to do that. Please, continue, you were saying something about best intentions. What's the matter? Oh, you were finished! Well, allow me to retort. - Quentin Tarantino's Pulp Fiction _________________________________________________________________________ When I entered the A Race at this week's Kulis Crit, I got into that thing with the best of intentions and I never... Then they shot me. It was a most excellent retort. The goal of entering the A race was to shame a few of the sandbaggers out of the B race, opening up the field a bit for people to move up. What actually happened was I got shelled in a spectacular fashion two or three laps in. They hammered from the gun, a…