Man, It's Cold

The winter is young, but it has not been kind. Snow, rain, more snow and brutually cold temperatures have kept even the faithful, the undeterred from venturing outdoors. While I'm no Eskimo, I'm not afraid of the cold and in fact have had a couple of great 4+ hour rides in sub 30 degree temperatures over the past couple of weeks. But when the thermometer drops into the mid to low twenties and the weather man starts talking that nasty four letter word, W-I-N-D, well, then, for me it's a wrap. I'm going back to bed, and I mean that literally.

That brings me to my topic of discussion. How much intestinal fortitude does it take to ride the trainer for 2+ hours? The answer, a lot. No matter who you are, how fast you ride, your race category, your weight, age, sex, who you know or what kind of ice cream you eat, bike trainer workouts suck, period.

I've come to the realization that for the next couple of months, unless I pack up and leave town for warmer climates (which I am considering) if I am going to have any shot having a fun and enjoyable season, I am going to have to face the music and ride the trainer. Granted, for certain kinds of workouts, a trainer can be a really efficient way of meeting specific objectives and it does give you any opportunity to get caught up on a movie or two that you've missed. All that being said, I still consider it to be a mind numbing inhumane way to exercise.

On another note, the ING Miami Half-Marathon is on the calendar for January 31st. I haven't done much running, and it seems as though every time I do run outside, I come home with some weird minor injury which prevents me from running again for a few days. I wonder if they'd let me do the entire race on a treadmill. Probably not. Anyway, short run tomorrow followed by nice long run on Sunday. I may take a page from my friend Andrew's book and run the Manhattan half marathon as a "bandit." Registration is overrated.

Oh, by the way, the photo accompanying this post obviously has nothing to do with bike trainers, cold weather or running... but I thought you'd rather look at the ladies of Toyota United more than a photo of me on a bike. Who said skinsuits are uncool? Courtesy of Pez Cycling News.

The bike racing season is officially over. I'm taking some time off the bike to get back into the gym, do some running, compete in a few duathlons and watch football. Giants are killing it! Jets still have some work to do, but they are getting there. Who knows, I might make a cameo on the basketball court. In spite of what I write about on this blog, basketball is still "my" first sport and I do have a rich and storied history around these parts. Just think David, but no slingshot - more like a jumpshot. In any event, the cycling season went well for the most part. The team, CRCA/FGX Racing, was very successful and I would like to think I played a small part in our overall success. I have high expectations for myself and the team next year.

I managed a few individual results in the local crits and Prospect Park but by and large I was consistently 11th and 12th, with many top 15 finishes in Prospect and Central Park. That tells me two things. First, I need to focus on positioning in races, and second, I need to get right to it and sprint my ass off during the off season. I do have a plan.

When I look back, I didn't race nearly as much as I wanted and the first half of the season was a blur. Lots of family obligations and little time for training. Not complaining, I'm happy and thankful for my family and I'm happy that I still had an opportunity to get out there and be in the sun (and the rain).

A few parting thoughts. First, I'm going to move this blog to another platform as soon as I get the time. As easy as it is to post on Blogger, there isn't much flexibility in terms of adding photos and other content. I think moving it will actually get me to increase the frequency of my posts.

Second, while it was more or less a pain in the butt to coordinate, ending the season at Bear and then the Tour of Catskills was highly enjoyable. My fitness has increased exponentially in the weeks leading up to Bear. Roger of Finkraft Coaching really turned the screws on me and I finally found the time and space to really focus on training. Bear went great, but again positioning and mistiming the sprint cost me a top 10 (17th). The Tour of Catskills really comes down to a couple of really serious climbs. On day one, the climb comes early and on day two, it comes at the very end. While my fitness was there, I couldn't quite stick with the 135 pounders on big climb on the first day. On the second day, I stayed close, but still couldn't quite get the job done.

That said, I would still consider the weekend a success. I improved and I think the experience will help me win some races next season. I plan on focusing more on out of town crits and circuit races and, dare I say it, triathlons. I did one biathlon just before Bear and finished 5th in my age group, without using a TT bike. With my running coming along nicely, I have the potential to do pretty darn well in some of the short distance events.

So that segues into the "third" thing, no pun intended; I'm going to get back to triathlon next season. In general, bike racing can be an adrenaline rush, but it can also be a miserable obsessive grind. It'll be nice to do an event where I can just go out and compete hard against myself and hopefully some other like minded folks without having to deal with the bike racing BS. It'll also give me a chance to take advantage of my "ground attack." Not looking to "go long" again anytime soon, but I will have an Olympic or half IM distance event on the docket.

Stay tuned.

No Sleep till Brooklyn...

All photos in this post are provided courtesy of Gina of Teamorganicnyc.com http://teamorganicnyc.org/gallery.htm (Thanks Gina!)

It’s been awhile since I’ve raced the Tuesday night series in Brooklyn. Earlier in the season I thought FBF would be regular training race for me, but between work and the frequent bad weather, partaking in the Brooklyn ritual was just not in the cards. I tried to substitute FBF for Thursday nights at the Rockleigh Criterium series. And while there’s no question that Rockleigh is a nice set up – riding up 9W, racing and riding home will get you 60+ miles on a weeknight – there’s nothing like the “Brooklyn Classic.” I mean, 9W is 9W, but how many times do you have a reason to ride down Flatbush Avenue in rush hour traffic, past Prospect Park, across Empire Boulevard dodging dollar vans, livery cabs and the Brooklyn locals walking across the street at their own pace almost daring you to hit them? Never mind the race, you already feel like you deserve a spot on the podium just for getting to King’s Plaza.

The stars aligned for me on this Tuesday. I was able to finish my last conference call at about 4pm, and while I still had plenty of work to do, I accomplished enough to warrant me sneaking out early and making a mad dash home to grab my gear and head down to Brooklyn. I generally ride to the race, taking 2nd Avenue to the Manhattan Bridge and then making a bee-line down Flatbush Avenue. From my apartment, it’s more or less 10 miles and it’s a good warm up. FBF is hard from the gun, so it’s really not the place to go in cold. Today, I took the car. It looked like it might rain and I surely didn’t want to have ride home from FBF in the dark and rain. First piece of advice, from all points in Manhattan, it’s better to just leave early and ride your bike. If you drive and take the highway, no telling what kind of traffic you’ll encounter and taking Flatbush can indeed be challenging during rush hour.

I got there at about 6:40pm, plenty of time to get ready and do a few warm up laps. I got dressed and pumped my tires and realized I didn’t have the plastic bag containing my money and racing license. I wondered, damn, did I drop it? I’m certain I packed it in my bag before I left. In fact, I packed my bag the night before so there’s no way I forgot it. Second piece of advice, if you have a small child in the house, be sure that he or she does not go into your bag. My 13 month old son, Ryder, being the ever curious little guy that he is, went into my open bag and removed the baggy containing my ID and money and kindly dropped it on the living room floor. Nice. Luckily, the FBF race director was cool about it and let me race anyway, so special thanks to those guys. In spite of Floyd’s reputation of late, the race organizers work hard to put on a well organized week night training race. I owe them next week. Needless to say, with me spending time searching for the “missing baggy,” I had absolutely no time to warm up, not even a spin around the parking lot. Well, I wasn’t too worried. I consumed a serving of my trusty First Endurance Pre Race mix, so I by the time the race started was hopped up on caffeine and about 10 herbs and vitamins that I can’t even pronounce. I don’t know if the stuff works, but it sure makes me feel fast.

On to the race itself – we lined up, a decent sized field and lots of strong riders. Littlefield, one of my teammates was there and lined up toward the front. I settled in somewhere in the middle of the pack. Since I didn’t have a warm up, I knew I was going to have to be smart and conservative the first few laps. I anticipated that my heart would be in my throat the first lap or two, but then once I got warmed up, I’d be ok. I would not be disappointed.

The gun went off and the pace started off fairly high, but nothing extraordinary. I was relieved that a bunch of guys didn’t attack from the gun. One guy went off, but no one bridged and that was cool with me. The key to hanging in at FBF is making sure you stay out of the wind. The wind was particularly strong so I made a conscious effort to tuck in. On the back stretch I could move to the front fairly easily by just going to the outside of the peloton and hiding from the crosswind. As we came around the turn for the second lap, all bets were off. The pace quickly picked up and all of a sudden, I’m saying “damn, this is hard!” I just started saying to myself, just stay tucked and keep making up spots on the back stretch and I’ll be fine until the pace backs off a little. It did, a little, just enough for me to reset and start thinking strategy – stay near the front and out of the wind. The next couple of laps were fine and I began to execute and gradually move up toward the front and find a rhythm. By now, guys were getting pulled off the back and the field was getting strung out. As we approached the line for the first sprint points, the guys fighting for points started to line up and the pace really accelerated. I had no designs on sprinting. I wanted to be just behind the sprint so that if a break attempt went, I could go with it. Well, the sprint happened at lap 4 (I think), and a group of guys tried to get off the front. It happened quickly and it was less like a break attempt and more like the field split into 3, the guys off the front, the group just behind (I was toward the front of this group) and a group of guys that got pulled off the back. Each group was about the same size. My group, the group just behind the lead group was not about to let anyone get away and guys started fighting hard to close the gap, which by now was about 50 meters. At first, guys were trying to bridge individually and burning themselves out. Then one Kissena guy yelled at us to get organized and work together. I don’t know if anyone listened to him, but we did start to close the gap fairly quickly on the back stretch. Littlefield was on the front and putting in some serious work to pull back the field. We closed the gap to about 25 meters, going into the turn toward the start line and I would say once we turned into the wind, the front guys slowed considerably and we were well within 25 meters and probably would have pulled back the guys off the front by the next turn where the wind really picks up. The operative phrase is “would have.”

Just as we made the turn and we were headed back toward the start line, one guy on the Mexican team – fairly competitive Cat 4 rider (this that an oxymoron?) who races frequently – takes an inside line presumably to stay out of the wind – and inexplicably puts his head down and rides smack into the bushes. He’s going so fast that the weeds smack him dead in the face and he goes flying off the bike. Littlefield, who just finished taking a long pull to get us within striking distance, is right on the guy’s wheel and goes down hard, smacking his head, or so it appeared, on the concrete. I was about one bike length away and had two choices: (a) I could’ve tried to jump over the guy on the ground (low likelihood of success) or (b) clip out and step on him to slow my momentum, which certainly would have saved me from going down. Hmmm, easy one, I stepped on the guy. I felt terrible about it, but I really had no choice. If I would’ve fallen on him, it would’ve been far worse for both of us.


At this point a few other guys went down, but managed to get up and chase back on. Again, by now we were just behind the lead group and they had slowed considerably. I was ok but Littlefield and the other guy didn’t look too good, and I wasn't about to leave a teammate laying on the ground in Brooklyn (unless I'm about to cross the finish line first LOL). In any event, after a few minutes Littlefield seemed ok. The other guy was pretty shaken up and may have injured his shoulder or arm. He did eventually get back on his bike, but I think he had some trouble moving his right arm. Still not sure what happened. We were going pretty hard and I suspect he just lost his concentration for a second and the bushes took him off guard.


Of course, it’s not the way I would’ve wanted to cap off my return to FBF, but I was happy to have avoided a crash, that Littlefield, except for a few minor scrapes, seemed ok and that we’ll have the chance to do it again next week. God willing, there’s always next week.

Commitment

I can't believe it's been 9 months since I've been here. My, my, my, time flies. OK, this year, from here on out, I promise to faithfully discharge my duty to chronicle all that is sports related. If there's time, I might even get off topic and talk a little life; who knows, maybe some theater or film. We will definitely be talking some hoops this year. Nate Robinson of the Knicks is this year's big surprise. I have never been so wrong about a player. I'm not a fan of Stephon Marbury, but he's getting a raw deal. More on that in future posts.

So after such a long hiatus, where do I begin? Ah, maybe I should share the reasons for my sudden disappearance from the blog scene. Well, one minute I'm doing 48mph down the side of hill at Harriman State Park (on my bike that is), hanging on for dear life, and the next minute, the stork drops this little guy off at my LBS (my son) and I'm knee deep in pampers and cloaked in the aura of fatherhood. So much for blogging for awhile.

Which brings me to the topic "du jour," Commitment. Yes, the big "C" word, often bandied about on the http://www.nyvelocity.com/ website. Every year, it seems as though one of the discussion topics on the site is whether one can be committed, in this case to the sport of cycling, if one doesn't spend all of his or her waking hours perfecting his or her pedal stroke. In other words, can a person with a family and a demanding career every truly be committed to being a winning bike racer?

Now after having been a father for eight months, having a fairly demanding job and trying to maintain that ever elusive thing called "balance," I think I am now qualified to answer. And I would say the answer is "maybe, but probably not." I mean, look, I think one can make a pretty compelling argument that there are degrees of commitment and that you must take a person's personal circumstances into the consideration when deciding whether he or she is committed. But for bike racers, local bike racers in particular, where only one thing matters, the result, no one really cares that you had to work late, take your spouse to dinner or the kids to a soccer game. With every one of those decisions, you give up valuable hours of training! That's not to say that one can't be good or even win races without training, but we're talking about commitment here.

An athlete that is truly committed to his or her sport will do everything to be better, including sacrifice time with friends and family. I've been on the scene now for a couple of seasons and I come from a basketball background, and I have seen some folks really give of themselves to be better athletes, and I am truly impressed by that. I mean, all I could think about after downing my third slice of pizza on Saturday night was damn, in a few weeks, I'll be racing against some guy who hasn't had a slice of pizza in 5 years... and then I went back into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of wine. LOL

The moral to the story is that there is no moral. There's no right or wrong answer, you should do what suits you. Ride 9W seven days a week, 5 hours a day until you drop, or ride once a week at 11pm on a Wednesday night after you've cooked a 3 course meal for your spouse and read your kids their favorite bedtime story. But whatever you do, just keep riding.

Bear Mountain and Other True Stories

It's been awhile since my last update, but in the post-Bear Mountain aftermath, I thought it was time to check in. The beginning of the season, April, came and went rather unceremoniously for me. I'm about 8 or 9 races in (including Battenkill and Bear) and results have been less than stellar. I've managed to put together some strong efforts in a couple of local races, but for one reason or the other, have not been able to close the deal. I'm not worried, I think my fitness and mental focus are starting to catch up with my desire to win, so I'm sure I'll get a couple before the season is out. My two main goals for the season are to: (1) get some wins at the Cadence Prospect Park Series, and (2) return to Bear with a top 20(ish) result. Both lofty but achievable goals.

With that said, let's talk a little about the Bear Mountain Spring Classic. Given that this was my first time doing this race, my goal simply to finish strong and in the top half of the field, and for the most part I accomplished that result. While I wasn't in perfect form, I did get plenty of rest and I had been feeling good in the week or two leading up to the race.

The temperature couldn't have been more ideal. It was in the mid-60's and the sun was shining. There was somewhat of a headwind kicking up, but nothing like FBF. I was pretty surprised, everything happened sort of quickly. We lined up - lots of people didn't show (probably those people who really care about Mother's Day), so anyone on the waiting list was in. We started 89 deep, which given the length of the race, really isn't too bad. At the start line, Alex kept saying, make sure you stay at the front going into the climb (a sign of things to come). I kept it in my head, but I also kept thinking, well, I generally have no problems moving up, so I'll be ok no matter where I am, as long as I'm not in the back. Nutrition, check, glasses, check, set the watch, done. Ready to roll, no doubt.

The bell or horn or whistle or gun or whatever (I don't remember) went off and we were rolling. The first 3kms, the initial descent going into Tiorati was neutral, so there was a lot of breaking and burning rubber down that long hill. It was probably harder riding the break down the hill than pushing the big gear at 47mph (that's what I hit on the last time down). Finally, we hit the turn and were into the first climb. It wasn't too bad. My heart rate was higher than I thought it should be, but in a race, you don't worry about that, only staying with the field. Even with my heart pounding, I felt ok mostly. I was thinking, "whatever you do, fight and stay with the field, there will be time to catch your breath later." Once we were through the climb, the pace picked up significantly and I managed to settle in right in the middle of the field next to one of our team's legit climbers, David Trumpf (the "Frenchman"). The pace was fast, and before I knew it, we were back at the start line and as we came through, there were loads of spectators cheering. I can't say I've race a lot - this is my second season of racing - but I've raced enough to know that it's not often that you can race in an environment that is so spectator friendly. It was cool. We had a big NYVelocity cheering section. What's funny is that as I looked into the crowd and made eye contact with Alex - he yelled out, you got to get to the front, or something like that. That one adjustment could've possibly saved me 4 minutes in my overall time. Why? Because I made two big mistakes on the second descent. One, I failed to shift into a lower gear before I hit the bottom and, two, as Alex predicted, if you're not at the front, you'll fall behind some guys that are really struggling on the climb, you'll get gapped and it will be virtually impossible to catch back on. I realized that when you're not a super climber, you have to think your way up a longer climb - meaning you have position yourself in a way to stay withe field, which may require a little strategy. Bottom line is, I had to stay in my big chain ring and climb out of the saddle from the base of the hill until the first crest (about 400meters) - By now my heart rate was climbing fast. I wasn't exactly in the back, but I was no longer safely in the middle of the pack. Because I expended so much extra energy at the beginning of the climb, I was starting to worry, but continued to fight. I was determined to stay with the group, but I was working a lot harder than I would be if I were toward the front with a little cushion. Finally, I manage to get to the top of the climb with the group, but by now I was at my max heart rate and breathing like an old man without his asthma medication, and immediately the pace picks up - I can't rest and enjoy the downhill, I have to keep hammering to stay with the group. It's like almost being knocked out in a boxing match, but being saved by the bell... only there's no bell. Finally, as we come into the third loop, I needed to catch my breath, and in that instant, there was separation. Not a lot, but enough for me to think, I need a wheel... or two. Lucky for me, I wasn't the only one pulled off the back. There were a group of other relatively strong cat 4 riders who got pulled off the lead group, including Etsu, Steven Fritz from Ave A and Eric Robertson from Kissena.

Etsu and Steven managed to convince the non-CRCA guys that it was in our best interest to get together in a double pace line and work as hard as possible to catch back on. Some agreed and others didn't. The one's that didn't eventually got dropped off the back completely.

While we weren't able to catch back on, we were able to manage a respectable (it's all relative) finish of about 11 minutes off the winning time. Coming into the final stretch, we were six deep, some still taking pulls others resting a little in the draft. I was a little too noble in pulling and rotating to the back about 800meters from finish line. Bill Moss, from SA who joined our merry little band rotated to the front and then jumped. Etsu, also at the front jumped. I reacted late and before I knew it, my pace line brothers were across line just before me! Damn, that was MY 45th place! LOL I took a look at the overall times and it looked like there were quite a few guys, that didn't finish or came in so late that they didn't get clocked in. Not an easy race at all, but definitely worth the effort.

All in all, it was a fun day, excellent workout and I learned a lot about racing. The motto is for the fall race is "get 20," meaning fight hard for a top twenty(ish) place. Gotta have goals man, gotta have goals.

Why we ride

I've been giving a lot of thought lately to why I drag myself out of bed at some ungodly hour almost every morning to ride this ridiculously expensive and uncomfortable piece of machinery that I call my bike. I mean, there are less mind numbing, less tedious ways to stay in shape. I could take a kickboxing class, play hoop or do any number of other things which wouldn't require me to wake up at 5:30am, dress in layers and layers of polyester, fleece or whatever is the latest, high tech wicking fabric and go out into the blistering cold before sun up. Sure, I get a kick out of slowly but surely becoming a better stronger, more competitive cyclist. I'm looking forward to racing the first half of the season. If you don't cycle or race, you couldn't possibly appreciate how difficult it is and how much effort it takes to be a truly competitive bike racer. In the beginning, you improve quickly, but at some point, it takes so much work to make small incremental improvements that you begin to wonder whether it's time to move on to anther sport. Luckily, I'm still in the "beginning" stage. But that's not it.

I definitely enjoy being able to eat pretty much what I want,when I want and not really gain weight - Although I will admit, spending 3, 4, 5 hours on the bike doesn't leave much time (or energy) for the weight room. In the words of that old comedian that played the homeless guy in The Wedding Singer, "I used to be much stronger!"

While those are certainly valid reasons to bite the bullet and keep riding, the real reason I ride evident from the shot above, a spectacular view of New Jersey taken Saturday morning at about 8:00am from the south bike/walkway on the upper level of the George Washington Bridge. I got an early start on my 5 hour endurance ride up 9W. The morning started off overcast, but as I started to make my way up Riverside Drive toward the bridge, the sun started to fight its way from behind the clouds and you could just feel the temperature start to rise. It may not seem like it when you're walking down 2nd Avenue wearing a big wool coat, but when you're on a road bike doing about 20mph wearing Hind artic tights and a Hincapie team issued winter jacket (made of the latest polyester/fleece wicking fabric of course) a temperature increase to 37 degrees, up from 32 seems like a heat wave. I know there's some guy in Wisconsin that may come across my rantings and say "these New Yorkers are real punks," but hey, that guy should get a life.

Anyway, as I started to make my way across the bikeway, I looked to my left and was just compelled to stop and take in the view. I ride across the bridge all the time, but in typical New Yorker fashion, I'm usually so preoccupied with one thing or another - engaged in conversation with my riding partners, thinking about family, work, money, career, getting back to the city - that I rarely take a moment to "see the sights, smell the smells" (an inside joke). But last Saturday was one of those rare times when I got out early enough to, at least for a few minutes, be alone and have the bridge and the scenery all to myself. I felt like I needed to pull out the trusty Nikon P2 point and shoot camera and capture this moment. I could just tell people how great the world looks from the south side of the George Washington Bridge at 8:00am on a Saturday morning in January, but they probably wouldn't believe it.

We ride because the world just looks better on a bike. (That's hot - That should be like some Lance Armstrong Nike commercial)

Hey, I can't make this up. I'm out early Saturday morning and I almost get run over by two deer just off 9W before Piermont.

It's gets better - can you say chickens in the road?

You gotta love cycling. I'll be back later in the week with more updates.