I like resting. I like to savor the moment after I’ve done something hard. The moment when I can take a deep breath, try to think like a person and say, "Well, thank God that’s over." I might even prefer these moments to the activities that spawned them. These moments happen when I complete an interval, when I finish a hard race, or when I try to have a conversation with Brian Gatens, and each time I try to appreciate the joy of completing a task. Because that’s what I really like about being a pretend bike racer, the feeling that I have completed something, and that’s very satisfying. Except for conversations with Brian, as those never end.

I have been terrifically non-diligent in recording my activities on my bike as of late, but I can sum it up with a few short phrases: sick for all of December (not an exaggeration, there’s been a terrible cold going around, which just makes you cough a lot), that morphed into an earache (what am I, six?), Z-pack, brief health, and finally a sore throat again. There, we’re now back up to speed.

Monday, January 23 

Today I was feeling peckish as I started my ride on my trainer so, since this is a rest week, I decided to eat a chocolate bar as I began my indoor ride to nowhere. This helped to buoy my spirits tremendously, enough to allow me to plod along at a relatively modest 126 average heart rate. In cycling terms, this is like riding while semi-conscious. I drifted in and out of awareness of my surroundings as I watched Touring Car racing on television. I snapped back to reality and finished my ride an hour later, after watching British fellows bash into one another for almost an entire hour.

Tuesday, January 24 

This log season has seen a few new developments in my training habits. I have been working on my pedal stroke this off season, and that work seems to be paying off for me, or at least the placebo effect of concentrating on my pedal stroke has been paying off for me. Either way, I’ve been thinking about my feet when I ride my bike and that has somehow made me feel better about the way I pedal my bike. This is big news, and I’m quite certain this new pedaling will be the key to a successful racing season.

Aside from training season pedal-stroke based delusion, there is another large development in my wide world of lycra. I have people to ride with. Yes, there are others who have the flexibility of schedule to allow them to join me on my midday forays into being a pretend bike racer. This is fantastic news, it allows me to seem much less crazy when I ride down the road speaking aloud, as now there is someone accompanying me, and it seems as if I am having a conversation now. Regular training partner Tim has been joining me quite frequently on rides and has been very pleasant company. Tim is relatively new to the sport, so he doesn’t mind my inherent bossiness at all. Plus he actually believes that I know what I am talking about! I, of course, have no idea what I’m talking about, but I’m not going to spoil Tim’s belief in me by telling him that. I will let him find out on his own that I am mostly manure-filled when it comes to advice. That day will inevitably come, but for now, I will play the role of wisdom filled sage of the road.

Wednesday, January 25 

Let me tell you a secret about being a pretend journalist on the internet—it pays almost nothing. The majority of writers start posting on the internet because: A) they are blowhards and B) they think it’s 1998 and anyone who does anything on the internet instantly becomes famous and wealthy. Most quit when they discover that they have around five semi-regular readers and that they have run out of things to write about. The ones that keep on plugging away are either very passionate about a subject or are tremendous blowhards. (I am the latter.) Due to my stubborn blowhardiness, I have been pretend writing for many years now, and as a result have become known by more people than I would had I been just saying my thoughts out loud in the shower for these past years.

Because I have this tiny modicum of notoriety, many people have preconceived notions about me. Many people think that I am a jerk, which is true, but I don’t behave like a jerk whilst in the world, I only think like a jerk, and I don’t let those thoughts escape from my mouth. I am also odd looking in person. I have the face of a microwaved gnome set to dry under a heat lamp of awkwardness. I have come to terms with my odd features, but most people take a moment to adjust upon meeting me. And lastly, when meeting me in person, people check out my bike and are tremendously disappointed.

I must admit that I get a secret giggle out of meeting someone who tells me they read my writing and watching their face twist in curious disappointment as they sneak a peek at my bike while we chat. You know the peek I’m talking about. We all do it. We meet someone on a bike, say hello, and if standing, we sneakily glance downward and assess their bike. It’s human nature. I’ve now come to the point where I like to meet new people on bikes just so I can watch their faces crinkle in confused astonishment as they stare at the curious collection of parts that I’m straddling

Firstly, my BH frame is lovely, which serves as carbon camouflage for the rest of my bike. Also, I have two sets of Zipp wheels earned by pretend writing. (And yes, I know I said that internet writing pays nothing, so I shall amend that statement: if you write nearly every day and post thousand of pages of internet "content", you eventually get two pairs of wheels. Yeah, it’s a sweet deal.) So my race bike actually seems quite nice. But if you should happen to meet me on a training ride, things turn a bit ugly. My PowerTap unit is somewhere between 7 and 10 years old—I can’t remember when I actually bought it, it’s been that long ago. It still has wires, and my rear wheel has been rebuilt more times than a Jenga tower. I could upgrade to some sort of crank-based power measuring system, but all of those systems have one big problem for me—they are unforgivably ugly, and I cannot abide having them on my bike. They violate my first (and only) rule about bike parts—I will not knowingly purchase something that I find aesthetically abhorrent.

But an old PowerTap unit and old wheels do not necessarily make for a disappointing bike, the real trouble comes when a studied eye looks at the parts hanging from my bike. My brake calipers are Dura Ace, so that’s a good start, they are 12 year old calipers, but only really anal retentive observers know that. My cranks are carbon SRAM force (not Red, because, yuk), chosen for their carbon-ness and because all Shimano cranks are horrifically ugly (see my first rule above). My rear derailleur is Ultergra because my 12 year old Dura Ace derailleur went to heaven a few years ago. So far all of these parts are quite presentable, the trouble starts when we get to my shifters. Firstly, they are Dura Ace, which is nice. But since I have a tendency to ride my equipment until it turns to garbage, they have developed "personality".

See? Personality. Dura Ace shifters have a fussy chrome plate that you remove for maintenance. It is held on by a fussy little screw and in the course of maintaining my shifters, I lost the fussy little screw, which fussed up my day. I snapped the chrome plate back on and hoped for the best, but that fussy little screw serves a purpose, and the chrome plate bounced off my shifter and is now probably being used as the roof for a shed in a mouse subdivision somewhere (God willing). Not wanting to expose my shifter to the elements (or spend $30 on a new chrome cover), I devised a new shifter cover froma space age material, and since I am crazy, I made a matching cover for my other shifter, as I could not tolerate un-matching shifters.

If you write to me, I’ll give you the instructions for making your own chrome cover replacement.

My shifters are very un-pro, but luckily the most egregious example of my bike’s decay are normally hidden underfoot. I am speaking, of course, about my pedals. Simply put, they are slowly turning to rotating garbage. I shall preface this statement by saying that Speedplay pedals are fantastic products and that I have had mine for many years, they are durable, work great and can take tremendous amounts of abuse, as evidenced by this picture.

As you can see, my pedal is slowly eroding beneath my feet. Despite my best efforts to never lubricate them properly, my Speedplays still turn. But this neglect has its price. The pedal body is slowly coming apart and shall one day be no more. Yet my valiant Speedplays still turn. They are truly a marvel. I am holding onto these pedals like grim death in the hope that one day, the pedal-based Garmin power measuring system will finally be released. But it’s been a two year wait, and I fear my Speedplays will perish before they arrive. Until then, I will keep replacing my shifter covers regularly and keep my feet on my pedals, hiding them away until I can spring them on an unsuspecting new acquaintances as a warning to them to stay off the internet, because it turns your bike to junk.