I’m beginning to feel the fatigue of winter training. This may come as a shock, but training is tiring, also water is wet, ice is still cold and Madonna—still kinda slutty. But what a run! She’s been bringing the naughty since I was in the eighth grade, in fact most of my adult life has passed under the bright shining sun of Madonna’s quasi-deviant sexuality—and I’m about two years away from wearing hats with battleship names on them, sporting sweatshirts from places I visit on vacation, and permanently tuning my TV to the weather channel. Well played, Madonna! I eagerly anticipate the divorce proceedings and the lurid details to be unearthed within. And now that she’s free, maybe she can finally get together with Vanilla Ice. Those two kids finally deserve a chance together.

 

But I digress, I’m really here to drone on about training—which in turn drones on through the winter months. Winter training is about addressing your faults and trying to improve on them. I think it’s very healthy to know what your own faults are and since I went to 12 years of catholic school—where they encourage dwelling on your faults—I can list mine relatively quickly:

I’m stubborn

I’m spiteful

I hold grudges (but the objects of my grudges almost never know it as I don’t tend to announce my grudges publicly, I just quietly grudge away—can you hear me Rutgers University?)

I’m gassy (really? Is this a fault? My wife thinks so, I’m unconvinced.)

I’m impatient

 

That’s pretty much a standard list, nothing too out of the ordinary. Of course, I should be listing my cycling deficiencies, but for me it always comes down to the same old stuff: lackluster sprinting, inability to hold maximal efforts for extended periods of time, and not winning enough. My winter training should address these faults and then attempt to minimize them. So I will dutifully do my sprint workouts and intervals and such this winter.

 

Friday, October 17, 2008

 

Today was sprints day. I usually do them on the same course, I sprint for 10 seconds and roll around my little park course for about 2 minutes and sprint again. I only keep track of my max wattage for each one. Because, what other numbers matter in this instance?

 

If you fancy yourself a bike racer and don’t do any sort of sprint workout – you might want to consider quitting the sport. Sprinting isn’t only for the finish of a race, it’s also a skill you use to close gaps, to get away from a field, to frantically speed to the port-o-john before a race (thanks a lot, coffee), and to escape pursuing hordes of ATF agents.

 

Here are my sprint numbers:

1084

1074

1093

1123

1136

 

Last year my winter training goal was to crack 1200 watts, which I wasn’t able to do, I can pump out 1100 or so with regularity, and I was able to place in a hand full of field sprints last season. But I think mostly the placings had to do with smarts, placement, attitude and my new Pedros non-petroleum oil slick sprayers.

 

 

 

 Monday, October 20, 2008

 

I managed to avoid any sort of cycling activity over the weekend – unless you count Tivo-ing Lombardia – which I do. My riding plans were dashed due to the collaboration of familial duties and the Leinenkugel’s Brewing Company. I simply couldn’t rouse myself at a time early enough to wedge a ride in over the weekend. My excuse for this laziness will be that it’s only October and riding more isn’t an emergency just yet. This excuse will be good for the months of November and December also – faithful readers can familiarize themselves with it.

 

While out on my ride today on my well traveled stretch of bike path, I happened to encounter a fellow cyclist. He was a younger lad spinning along in a RAGBRAI jersey. For those unfamiliar with RAGBRAI, I will explain. It’s one of the first “big old bike rides” and it crosses the state of Iowa every summer. It’s a combination bike ride, party, happening and aggravated assault charge generator all in one. Needless to say, I’ve been there.

 

Now, which do you think I did? Did I roll up and start a conversation with the fellow in the RAGBRAI jersey and discuss our shared experience? Or did I take this as an opportunity to spitefully try and assert my bike trail dominance and attempt to drop the RAGBRAI rider like a roll of greased quarters at the laundromat?

 

Those of you who know me well know how this turned out. Of course, I went for the more spiteful of the two options. I sometimes think spite has been implanted in me at the cellular level. I came by the young rider expecting him to fall behind quickly like most riders on the path, but this individual was different. He was able to hold on – and he was able to take turns of his own. Now, pushing the pace out of spite instead of doing the easy spin I had planned on might not have been the most fruitful way to spend my ride, but it was too late – the spite had taken over.

 

The kid was strong, but looked like he was inexperienced. I could tell because I was able to gain ground on every turn and corner. So we rolled. He could come around on straight flat sections, and I could gain ground on turns. I was keeping a pace that was way too hectic for an easy Monday, but the spite gauntlet had been thrown down, I was powerless to resist. I was in a spite spiral. My salvation came when we got to the end of the bike path and I took my leave of the young pup with a pat on the back. In retrospect, I should’ve offered him a a spot on our team, but if being able to give me a run for my money is qualification for joining Merrill Lynch, we would have a roster of about 1200 racers.

 

 

 

Tuesday October 21, 2008

Today I did my quick 20 second on 10 second off intervals. I did eight right in a row. My numbers are slightly lower than last week – from 374 to 367, so I can only surmise that my drop in wattage is due to, well, nothing at all! It’s an eight watt difference! Who cares? I might have burped during one rep, I might have forgot to pedal. 

 

I will go the safe route and blame bodily gas for my shortcomings.

 

Wednesday October 22, 2008

Today was a run of the mill endurance ride day, except it was done on one of those crisp, wonderful East Coast Autumn days that you would like to put in a box and open up in February when you have a strip of cold, wet road run-off pasted to your backside after a 3 hour ride in the wet wilds of New Jersey. But alas, these are things that you cannot put in a box — unlike Chuck Norris’ hair or your teeth after Chuck Norris knocked them out because he heard that you made fun of his hair.

 

 

Thursday October 23, 2008

Today was my 15 minute kinda hard interval, which is 5 minutes longer than last week. Here I’m jut trying to go harder for longer—and that last line reads like the DVD case for the world’s most disappointing adult movie. Every week this amount should increase, until I can take no more. I did my interval and scrambled home, as I am tired, and any extra riding right now would just serve to annoy me.