Here we are again

It is winter training season again, and this is the time of year when I decide whether I would like to persist in my “career” as a racing cyclist. I turn 40 (older than the internet by 5 years – take that Al Gore!) this year and when you get to my advanced age the decision to continue as a bike racer isn’t an automatic one. My decision this year may be an easier one as I had a pretty successful season. I won a race! And yes, I know it was a ¾ field in a Tuesday night training race where I mercilessly sprinted around my breakaway partner (Prinsloo had it coming didn’t he?), but crossing the line first is crossing the line first. I don’t worry about the degree of dignity in my successes, otherwise I would never claim to be New York Ladies’ sprint champion, nor would I risk sounding like an astounding blowhard by posting my winter training data on the internet for all of 50 odd people to witness.

Sharing my training numbers helps to keep me motivated to train through the winter; because, winter training is boring. Shocking! When the wait for the first race of the season seems longer than the wait for Chinese Democracy (don’t let those record company suits rush you, Axel, you’re an artist!), the fact that I have promised myself to share my mighty numbers with the world (you’re welcome world) keeps me panting my way through January and February. Riding through the winter can be tedious, cold, and lonely. I’m sure there are some stalwarts out there who don’t mind the numb bits and pieces from long rides in the grey cold of February, and there are some who can withstand hours of riding indoors while soaking in Knight Rider reruns; but I am not an eager volunteer for the legion of the numb legumes – and I prefer my Hasselhoff in a pair of red Stockton-length shorts as he runs along the beach.

Simply put, I ride through the winter so I can race. My desire to participate in bike races trumps any sort of urge to stay indoors on cold winter days. It makes me get up early and spin mindlessly on rollers while watching History Channel shows about the idiosyncrasies of cheese production. If I didn’t race, I probably wouldn’t do any of these things. It’s mental – not in a “mind over matter” learn to bend spoons “mental” way; but mental in a “stick your hand into your shirt opening like Napoleon and bark orders to the furniture” type way. But that is the nature of bike racers. We are obsessed, myopic, compulsive nut jobs. 

That’s why I ride all winter – because I know out there, that other racers are riding their bikes through the winter. But do I feel a sense of shared interest or admire their moxie? No. I mostly worry that they will get ahead of me. That entire notion, of course, is probably a sign of mental instability. In reality it would be much better for me to set realistic goals for myself and try to attain a set of personal bests for the upcoming season – but that’s loser tri-athlete talk! I’m a bike racer. I don’t get a t-shirt for participating. I don’t get to place 5th in my age group in a race contested by thousands of people. If I don’t finish in the money, my race is a disappointment. It’s sad—and the saddest part is that I’m completely aware of the sadness. But I keep going back to race, because they are fun, in fact they are fun in a very addictive way.

Every bike race is a collective story told by a briefly assembled pack of nervous, heavily breathing, Lycra clad goofballs. You can run the same race with the same people over a hundred times and get a different story each time. That’s what makes racing so appealing to me. It’s always different. Sure, the same guys will often win (stupid sprinters), but they never win in the exact same way.

Monday, October 13, 2008

Today seems as good as any other to begin my 2009 campaign. Since I never really take off extended periods of time from the bike, this arbitrary day seems like as good a place to start as any. I’ve returned from a 4 day sojourn to my Iowa homeland, where I underwent a comprehensive re-tox program. I let no meals pass without sausage, and I was able to maintain a steady flow of cheese, chocolate and beer. A perfect start for a campaign of racing. 

Today I rode a route I’ve done so many times that I can ride it with a burlap sack over my head, and though that might sound like a monotonous trudge, today it was a welcome return to familiar surroundings. Plus, I have about 5 pounds of partially digested sausage products to move through my system.

This year, I’m going to see if I can maintain an endurance pace of about 200-220 watts. I don’t have a particular reason – I just want to see what happens. That sound you just heard was Chris Carmichael throwing up into his lap. I list my daily weight because if you have wattages without weight, all you have is a handful of un-reference-able numbers. Not good if you want to play the schmalz training home game. Posting a training journal without your watts per kilo is like having a telephone number without the last digit. You can try every number on the dial and eventually talk to who you want you, but you still run the chance of annoying 9 people along the way.

The numbers I list below are taken from my CyclingPeaks software, some numbers I use and others I don’t really use or understand. TSS doesn’t mean much to me – it could be a number measuring my training stress or it could be a number measuring my biorhythms – I have no idea. And here’s the kicker, I’m too lazy to look up what it means.

 

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Did a set of quick 20/10 intervals uphill today. The 20/10 stands for 20 seconds full on, and 10 seconds off (for heavy breathing). I do 8 of them in a row. I’d like to think that keep my punchiness from atrophying, but what I really like is that the interval is over in less than 4 minutes. it’s the perfect combination of effort and laziness – so they are the optimal interval for me.

The effort: 3:50 at 374 watts average HR of 177. Not too shabby. Quake in fear, Cat 4s!

 

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Today is an endurance day. I subscribe to the good old Lemond-era workout schedule. Monday is recovery. Tuesday is sprint type stuff. Wednesday for endurance. Thursday for longer hard efforts. Friday for short ride with sprints, and weekends for racing – or, in winter – long rides followed by extended periods of alcohol imbibing.

I’m up to 155 pounds today, due to our annual team party. This year was beer and Mexican food. I enjoyed enough Mexican food to keep me fueled for 4 days. But that is my right as a bike rider – to be able to shove down as much food as possible on occasion. If I can no longer do that, I will quit this sport right now. Gluttony is my right earned through hours of cardio-vascular activity.

 

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Today the forecast was for rain, so I went out and did my 10 minute interval and came right back home. Right now I’m doing sub-maximal type intervals that are about 5-10 beats below my threshold heart rate (which is 175, and I have the blood pricks to prove it), so I aimed for 165-170-ish heart rate. I will go longer for these intervals as the winter wears on. Compelling stuff, no? I guess these might be called sub-maximal intervals, but I can never remember the names of those things, so I may just call them “kinda hard” intervals.

After I got home, I was able to wipe the dirt off my bike from the light sprinkles of rain I rode through with baby wipes. Andy Shen tipped me off about cleaning bikes with baby wipes. I now am able to wipe off any sort of grease or grime after every ride. The wipes are surprisingly effective, and why shouldn’t they? They are made to remove digested toddler food, so a little road dirt shouldn’t be a problem. And since I still have a kid on the Pamper train, I buy wipes by the case.