Alaskan Pack Fodder

I was doing VO2max intervals on Potter Valley early this morning, and between sessions of trying to make myself puke my mind became fixated on a scene from the movie Lucky Number Slevin : Mr. Goodkat : There was a time. Nick : [ wakes up, sees a man in a wheelchair is addressing him, and checks his watch ] 4:35. Mr. Goodkat : You misunderstood. I wasn't asking for the time, I was just saying "there was a time." Nick : There was a time? Mr. Goodkat : Mm-hmm. Take Brown Sugar back there, for example. [ indicates elderly woman ] She's pretty fucking foxy, right? Nick : [ pause ] She's seventy. Mr. Goodkat : If she's a day. But there was a time.   My endorphin-warped brain twisted this around, and I began to ask myself- is this that time?   I guess that’s my version of the middle-age refrain (usually delivered with a healthy dose of self-pity), is this as good as it gets? My version is a little different, in that I’m happy with how things tu...

Form is a fleeting thing. One day you can be on top of the world, spinning effortlessly, and the next you can be crashing to earth, barely able to get out of bed.   Last year I crashed to earth. I mismanaged the performance bump I got from the Tour of Fairbanks, and failed to notice how much fitness I was losing. I was piling on the miles, but wasn't recovering or doing any sort of real intensity. I rode myself into the ground, and when the Tour of Anchorage rolled around, I dug the hole a little bit deeper. Cyclocross provided a little mental boost, but to be honest I was only milking the last bits of fitness I had. Mentally and physically, I was done.   This year I'm approaching things a little bit differently.   After my unexpected result in Fairbanks, I did screw up a little. Call it a post-event come-down. I gained a few pounds back. I lost a little focus. I rode a little too hard at the wrong times. I didn't recover as well as I should have. That said, compare...

This weekend was about as good as it gets for Anchorage area road racing. A three-stage race on what are (in my humble opinion) the best courses we have in the local area. Admittedly, "local" is a relative term, since 2 of them were 90 minutes away.   The first stage was our 2nd visit to the Kulis criterium course. This time it was raining lightly, so speed averages dropped almost 1 MPH for the Sport/Masters Men pack, even though the pack itself was larger. Our collective lack of bike handling skills were on display, but everyone stayed upright and unhurt, which made me like the course even more. After a few attacks on the early laps, we settled in. This gave me a chance to move around the pack to see who was riding well, without a lot of risk of getting caught on the wrong end of a split. Without the two animators of the last race present, I was more concerned about individuals than team tactics.   I expected the move to g...

After over a month of temperatures in the 70s and 80s Fahrenheit (which is rare in Anchorage), summer is finally here. That means rain and temperatures in the 50s and 60s. As strange as it might sound, I'm actually OK with that. After years of cooler temperatures, I have trouble sleeping when it gets around 70F. Most of my cycling gear (and the majority of my wardrobe) leans towards cooler temperatures and wetter weather, so riding when sane people would pack it in is par for the course. The majority of cyclists up here are that way, or we'd never get to ride.   Once the rain stopped and the roads dried out, I went on a ride with my kids. They suggested it, which made me pretty happy. Then later on they went for a ride without me, which made me even happier. As long as they're out there being active, I'm good. It's all too easy to avoid getting out there to do  something , and far easier to sit around doing nothing.   Even if it's a bit soggy ...