2009 Wrap-up

 

Woah.  Haven't been here in a long, long while.

In a strange mix of circumstances, life got busy all at once and when that happens the little, less important things have a tendency to fall off the plate.  All about priorities right?

So why the sudden silence?  Well, work for one thing.  WW46 (that's the second week of November for all the non-Intel folks,) was the week that the almost year long software project I was the lead QA engineer for released.  Unfortunately the release was on a weekend and overran what sounded to be an amazing PIR Cross Crusade event.  I missed this race last year with my bum knee, and I really wanted to do it this year.  Oh well.

What else got in the way?  Well, about that same time I was handed the reigns of the Portland Velo Racing Team.  Ty Lambert, after 3 years of being the DS for the team needed to step down and was confident enough to put one of the most successful powers in OBRA racing in my hands.  It's a humbling experience in many ways, but mostly because of the sheer volume of things I took on in the space of a few weeks.  Ty did an amazing job laying the foundation for our success and I can only hope to continue on with what he's done.  I have some big plans that have been in motion for about a month now and I'm happy that things are going well.

So here I sit, on the eve of the eve of the decade.  10 years ago I was busting my ass getting ready for the Y2K rollover.  5 years ago I was hanging out with Traci and our best friend Irena, watching movies, shopping, and eating the amazing creations that two very talented cooks put together.  Last year, I was sitting on the couch, probably icing my knee post-surgery and playing video games.   So what did I do on the bike this year?  We'll, lets take a look!

Season started December 29th, 2008, which was my first ride post surgery.  It lasted a whole 35 minutes, and I averaged 35w and just a hair under 16mph.  I remember how bad those first few pedal strokes hurt since the range of motion on the pedal stroke was more than the range of motion my knee had at the time.

The end of the season is a bit ambiguous.  My last race was Krugers on the 22nd of November.  It was pretty crazy and very very muddy.  We'll call the last ride of the season this past Saturday, so December 26th 2009.  Of the 363 days in my 2009 season, I have 205 PT files.  Figure there were probably 20 or so rides I did on bikes that didn't have my PT attached to them, be it CX or track.  I'm going to estimate that I rode 225 days this year.  Crazy, but not uncommon in these parts.

WKO has me down for 6055 miles during that time frame.  At one point I thought I had flipped 10k miles this season, but I just now realized I didn't reset my ODO on the PT at the start of the season.  Oops!  I'll estimate another 500 miles for the non PT rides and guess I logged about 6600 or so miles this season.  Enough to cover the round trip between my home and our friend's Danny and Irena house in Stow, MA.  Along the way I can dip down south in KS and swing through Abilene and get a Clif bar and a new water bottle from my friend Julie.

Total wattage in kJ recorded: 191154.

Total calories burnt: 45730, or approximately 228 pints of Guinness.

Total time in saddle: 14 days, 22 hours, 34 minutes, 52 seconds.  No wonder my hips were sore more of the year!  Average speed for the year was 17mph.  Gotta love those recovery miles.

Weight at the start of the season was 192lbs, weight at the end was 186lbs.  I floated around 185-187 most of the season.

Longest day in the saddle, 6hrs 41mim 41s, spanning 65 miles.  This was the day of De Ronde Portlandia which had me climb two of the steepest climbs in the Portland area at approximately 26% grade and 28% grade.  That's about a foot of elevation gain for every 3 feet you move forward.

Longest single ride was 103mi, which took place at the Vine Ride with some teammates.  Was a good day on the road.

Highest mileage month was April with 833 miles.  Hardest month from a TSS/mile rate was June, however April through August was all very intense from a TSS/mile standpoint, which is probably why I felt like crap at the start of September, which was my lowest month in terms of training.

Highest recorded HR was 189BPM on a random Saturday ride.  However, I'm going to guess that my highest seasons HR was probably during the Kilo I raced at the track.  Didn't have any measure for that event but it took me almost 10minutes to recover from that effort and I thought I was going to blackout at the end.

Highest recorded speed was 51.4mph.  No clue what I was descending on that day.  Fastest flatland sprint was 41mph out at PIR.

Mean Max Power: (Max historical wattage shown at any time.) Last season vs this season:

2008

Time	Wattage	w/kg
1s	1375	16.35
5s	1315	15.64
10s	1196	14.22
20s	928	11.04
30s	844	10.04
1m	640	7.61
5m	343	4.08
10m	314	3.73
60m	256	3.04
120m	216	2.57

2009

Time	Wattage	w/kg	Difference
1s	1472	17.41	97w
5s	1411	16.69	96w
10s	1257	14.87	61w
20s	1072	12.68	114w
30s	835	9.88	-9w
1m	605	7.61	-35w
5m	349	4.13	6w
10m	320	3.78	6w
60m	244	2.89	-12w
120m	220	2.60	4w

I increase what was already a pretty good top end.  I felt very strong when sprinting this year.  I figure next year I'll break the mythical 1500w barrier.  My 1m wattage was probably higher this year than last since I was just stronger all around, but I didn't really ever have the need for a 1m burst other than my Kilo which wasn't tracked for power.  I know I increased my FTP over the season as well.  Last 20m effort I did was around 297w.

I had a few goals for 2009, with the biggest being "come back from knee surgery".  In April, I won my first of three races this season (two out at PIR and one out at the track.)  So I called that goal completed.  I also wanted to get my upgrade to Cat 3, which happened in May. 

I wanted to be successful against the 1/2/3 field out at PIR.  I raced in that field 4 times with 2 DNF's (1 mechanical, 1 due to a crash that I was behind and helped with the aftermath of.)  I took a 6th and a 4th in the other two finishes so I know I can hold my own in the sprints out there.  Now if the rest of the field would just learn to race safely...

I wanted to do the TTT this year, and I did.  The experience was fun, but painful as all hell.  I sold my TT bike roughly 1 week later.  I am not a TT rider by any means.  If I have to do a TT in the future, I'll slap clip-on's to my road bike and call it good.

I wanted to be a stronger rider on the team, and I was.  I will never ever  be the strongest climber on the team, nor will I even remotely be considered a climber.  I did however manager to hang on to every team ride this year, and often times I was an instigator on the road rather than pack fodder. 

I wanted to race more on the velodrome this year.  Unfortunately I didn't manage that.  I only raced once this year, but I made it count by winning a state championship in the kilo.

I wanted to be competitive this year in Cross.  I started the season in the Master C's.  I finished 3 races in that group with 2 top 10 finishes, including 7th out of 190 at Alpenrose.  That got me a call-up the rest of the season for Crusades!  Rainer I was looking at another top 10 finish before I flatted.  After that I upgraded to the Master B's and promptly started falling apart.   Next season I look to come in a bit fresher and hope for a better showing.  I'll probably also try to race more of the smaller races vs Crusades.  They are just getting to big for their own good.

My 2010 goals are pretty simple.  I want to gain more fitness, I want to get down to 175lbs by April, and I want to help the team become stronger.  These goals are very obtainable and I look forward to taking the necessary strides to achieve them.   I may toss in a stage race if I'm feeling frisky, but it would be solely to support one of the guys on the team.

2010 will probably provide is share of twists and turns and opportunities, and before we know it, we'll be talking about 2011!

Plains, Trains, and lack of Automobiles

...lack of Automobiles

While we are still in the grips of what most people in the area are calling "June-uary", the past week has actually seen blue sky, sun and temperatures usually found in mid May. We all tell ourselves that summer is almost here and with it will bring more typical weather, but that remains to be witnessed.

The lack of rain did however allow me to commute by bike to work a few days last week. Traci and I normally carpool in during the rainy weather (read: 75% of the year) as we work a half mile from each other. From a gas saving standpoint, having only one of us commute in by bike doesn't make much sense, so its either both of us or none of us on the days we are both in the office. However, on days when we normally would have the need to take two cars and the sun is out, I can hop on my bike!

My commute is short. So short that in years past I've said it wasn't worth riding in due to the amount of time it would take to get ready, ride in, park the bike, shower, change, and get to my desk. However with a bit of a paradigm shift on my part, I've made it a much more doable and causal thing. No longer do I don the lycra and ride at mach 1 to get the office. I've taken a more simplistic approach. I dress in what I'm going to wear to work that day, get on my bike and just ride in. The only "gear" I wear is my helmet, shoes, and occasionally my gloves. I've stashed a pair of sandals in my office to change into once there.

I'm lucky enough to work in an office where wearing shorts is commonplace during the nice weather. On days where it's a bit chilly in the morning I pull over a pair of Castelli bike messenger knickers which while baggy, cover my war-torn knees and keep out the wind. My ride in is tame. Recovery pace at maximum. The goal is to get to work safely, not sweaty.

So far its been a successful endeavor. So much so that I've even been able to swing through my favorite coffee shop in the morning to get my usual iced-Americano. (Which conveniently fits into my seat-tube water bottle holder.) I arrive at the office and wheel my bike into my cube. Technically I shouldn't as its a "fire hazard" for morons who decide to stand in the corner of my office during a fire. Our building has no security guards.

My paradigm shift is not unique. I've seen a large number of people on the road the past few weeks on bikes, wearing what you'd see at work. I hope that the people driving by see us and think "Hey, I could do that too."

Plains, Trains...

When I got home last night, I was in a fairly low energy state for some reason. I wanted and needed to go out for a ride, but had little motivation to do so. Upon walking through the door into the house, I steeled my resolve and starting picking out clothes to change into. I'd ride my bread and butter 25mi loop, and I'd go hard. I wanted to set a new fast time for the route, to break last years 1h14m30s finish.

As I dressed, I mentally thought out the course. I needed to ride quickly, but not stress myself for the first few miles to get my legs warmed up. Cornelius Shefflin Road is always busy this time of day. Ride extra cautious for that quarter mile and recover a bit. The wind will be howling out past Roy. Make sure to come to a complete stop in North Plains or Barney Fife may come after you. I top off the tires, and walk out of the garage. It's 4:40 and I tell Traci I should be home no later than 6:00. No more than an hour and twenty minutes of pain. I'm shooting for closer to a hour and ten.

I stick to my plan for those first few miles. Small chain-ring, high cadence. The wind isn't too bad, probably due to the cloud cover that has lingered most of the day. At the turn to Leisy Road, I get into the drops and shift to the big ring. My heart-rate is stable and the legs don't feel half that bad. I ride through row after row of blueberry plants hint at a delicious summer to come. The blueberry field gives way to wide open plains of ryegrass. A small gust of wind blows across the field stirring up an evil tan cloud in its wake...

I happen to reside in a beautiful area that has a backwards river. (The Willamette River (will-AM-it) is one of a handful of rivers in North America that run North rather than South.) The river valley and surrounding areas are lush and fertile and wonderful for growing all sorts of things that produce ungodly quantities of pollen this time of year. "Spring colds" are common among the inhabitants. Symptoms usually include coughing, wheezing, itchy eyes, itchy skin, runny nose, congestion, snot, hives, and the desire to claw ones eyeballs out after extended exposure to outside air. This coupled with the valley's inhabitants desperate desire to be outside after 9 months of rain causes a fairly volatile mixture. After living for 15 years in this area, I've created a multi layered approach to combat the assault on my system. (Which I promise to post later this week.)

I push my way through the histamine minefield, keeping my HR below anaerobic threshold and eventually approach Roy. Roy is a tiny farming town, dominated by a community school and church. It also has a set of train tracks that runs through it in which I've never seen a train on in the fifteen years I've been riding in this area. Imagine my surprise as I crest a small rise in the road and see a logging car train rumbling down the tracks. I coast down to the intersection and stop behind the car waiting there. The sun has broken through the clouds and is hot on the black arm warmers I wore. I take the opportunity to strip them off and stuff them into my jersey pocket. I take a long pull from my water bottle and check the time. It's only eight past five. I've covered just shy of ten miles in twenty-seven minutes. I look to the west and see the last few cars of the train round the bend. The delay was short.

I settle back into my rhythm in the drops, working different gearing-cadence combination on this long flat to find the balance between fast and sustainable. I start to notice that I put out a higher wattage at a higher cadence and smaller gear versus pushing my bigger gears. Out of Roy and towards the glider park I ride. There are few cars on these roads and those you do see are plenty used to the cyclists in the area. Mountaindale road goes by in a blur, a combination of the pace of the ride and the pollen mines my eyes have detonated.

I grumpily pass a pair of cyclists on West Union. They are riding two abreast and make no efforts to move over as I call out my approach. I know they know I'm there. I've been watching them look in their mirrors for the past quarter mile. It gives me some satisfaction as I see them quickly shrink in the distance behind me. The irritation is replaced by the deep ache in my legs the last half mile of West Union. It's a false flat, and the wind has turned into my face. I pass by the school at the corner, the unofficial milepost 20 of my route.

The wonderful thing about teammates is you inevitably run into them on the road. I pass Russ P. going the other way on Helvetia. He's been off the bike for a bit nursing a back injury. We shout to each other upon recognition. Its good to see him riding again. Helvetia becomes Shute, and the stretch of road vanish under my wheels. I turn down the homestretch on Evergreen. I push hard, the small tailwind and familiar road picking up my pace. I concentrate on my HR numbers, looking for the exact moment where my breathing goes into anaerobic. 167 seems to be the magic number.

I cruise into my neighborhood, treating the winding corners like how I'd treat a criterium race, bike leaning over in the corners and body out of the saddle. I hit the garage door opener as I pass the house and circle around to cool down. The clock reads 5:53.

After dinner, I pull down the ride numbers. Total time was 1h13m, but I was stuck in Roy for a few minutes due to the train. Moving time was shy of 1h9m for an average speed of 21.8mph. New PR. While I didn't set a new FTP or 20minute max wattage, I did achieve a new max wattage for everything from 21min to 1h 13m. My strengths don't play to these long sustained efforts, but I know by working at them I can hope to improve my overall performance.

My mood however, increased dramatically.

The Numbers Game

 

33 is my race age. It's a no-man's land of age in OBRA.  I qualify for Masters sometimes, but not others. 10 is the number of years I've been married as of this coming Friday.  11 is the number of years I've been at the company were I work.  A full third of my life.  Woah.

180lbs is my weight goal for this year.  It will be a 15lbs decrease from where I was last year and a substantial decrease from where I was two years ago.  1970 is the net number of calories I can theoretically eat on a daily basis and not gain weight.  While it doesn't always prove true, its a goal to shoot for.

265 was my Functional Threshold Power the last time I tested it. I bet it's probably higher now, but I haven't yet had a test prove that to me.

13 is the number of years I've had a broken pancreas.  2 is the number of years I've had a "bionic replacement". 15carbs:1unit of insulin is the ratio I live by. (Literally.)

1.114 and 1.116 were the Original Gravity (adjusted) for the first and second 5 gallon batches of beer I brewed.  When the beer is ready, it should be floating around 10.5 percent alcohol by volume.  100 is the percentage of said beer I plan to share with my teammates during cross season.

Spring Storm, Part 2

 

(Note: This is Part II of the story, Part I can be found here.)

I try to distract myself from the miserable conditions by visualizing the climb ahead.  Spin, don't mash.  Stay under LT, accelerate through the harder sections of the climbs.  I notice I have a tailwind on the ride out.  The ride home might really be painful.  I approach the base of the climb, a left hand fork in the road that in less than a half hour will assure me that my month and a half of racing on the flats haven't hurt me too much.  In theory.  I've climbed once in almost two months, and it was the previous Saturday.  I take a big swig of water and notice that I haven't touched my bottles since I left the house.  I never drink enough when it's raining.

I make the turn and set the interval on the CPU at the sign.  I've already shifted down into my small ring, a pre-emptive reminder to spin my gears.  The first minute of any sustained climb is a shock to my system.  I stay under a wattage I know I can maintain for five minutes  while my body adapts to the stress.  I unzip my jacket and jersey and wish I brought a hat with a brim on it for under my helm.

The road levels for the first of many times, and I feel good.  The rain continues to fall steadily, but I'm long past the point of getting any wetter.  My wool socks squish in their shoes on every down stroke.   I concentrate on the sound, maintaining the rhythm of the noise throughout the climb.  I finally crest the first climbing section, into midpoint of the ascent were the road flattens out and actually descends a bit.  The fast twitch muscles in my legs cry out in glee as I shift up to the big ring and get out of the saddle.  I know I need to push harder on the flat than I would up hill.  No rest for the weary.

The road pitches up again and the pavement changes.  While chip seal is rough, the water tends to seep into it and travel in the carved grooves of the road.  The upper half of the climb has the wonderfully smooth pavement but the water is a sheet across the road, running in tire-covering rivers in some places.  I want to run the big ring, powering through this section, but relent.  I know the hardest part of the climb is ahead and I'm beginning to tire.

I think of my teammates, using the images of stronger climbers ahead of me to pull me along the long run up to the Horning's Hideout.  There's something about this section that saps my body, the top always just out of sight to the left.  I've blown up on this section many a time, always pushing too early only to die as the road kicks up in the final hundred meters.  I pace myself this time, riding once again below my five minute max.  Spin the gears, accelerate the legs, shift up.  The pattern continues a few times and I feel the lactic burn in the legs for the first time.  I decide to ignore it knowing there is another false flat just over the rise where I can recover some. Hitting the flat I shift into the big ring for the second time, using my momentum to carry me along while the legs flush themselves.  My heart rate is running close to my early season max, but I know from recent races I have another few bpm to spare.  Regardless of the overall result of the climb, I achieve a mental victory.

Ahead I see steam hanging over the road.  The rain has let up some in this section and the radiant warmth of the pavement is making the air thick.  I pass a few houses beyond Horning's and ride through an unseen cloud of smoke that smells like pot.  At least on the way down it will go by faster.

The last few sections are painful.  I know each false summit by heart, but hope I somehow was further up the road than I actually was.  I reach the last false summit and switch to my large chain ring for the last dig.  The road ticks up and turns to the left at an off camber, it's deceptively steep.  I come up out of the saddle and immediately feel my rear wheel spin.  Wasted watts.  I settle to push the big gear seated, my legs protest but I know the pain will be over in under a minute.  The road flattens out, and I can see the finish through the scattered trees off to the left.  A final dip and a short climb to the pair of phone poles that have served as the finish line for countless club rides.  I try to push through to sprint for the line, but I hear a car behind me following me slowly.  I have no idea how long it's been there.  I coast through the finish and end the interval on my CPU.  I hit it a second time just to be safe.  I felt good about my climb, but won't know the true results until I get home.

The car turns into a driveway of the lone house at the top of the ascent.  There are no dogs today to greet me.  I chuckle thinking of how bad they would smell.  The hounds are in their kennels, content to stay under their overhangs and out of the rain.  I stop long enough to take a long drink of water and zip up my layers.    The descent is cold and dangerous and I'm once again thankful I brought the wind jacket.  The ride back isn't as lonely.  I have my squishing socks and oddly warm knees to keep me company.

I make it home shortly before 6:30 and smell dinner cooking in the kitchen.  Traci laughs at me for the sound I make as I walk from the garage into the laundry room.  My knees burn now that I'm in warm air and I get to the shower quickly to scrub the goo off.  A short while later the heat just switches off.  I can understand why people use the stuff during the winter.

It's not until later after dinner that I pull down the data for my ride.  It's a mixed bag of results.  I've set a new PR by a 1m50s, but my 20m max wattage and average wattage for the entire climb is almost identical to what I did back in March.  The numbers don't add up in my mind.  I head out to the garage to find my bike is relatively clean.  A quick rub down with some Simple Green and a rag takes care of the grime on the frame and chain.  I drop some chain lube and run through the gearing until I'm satisfied with the results and pack it up for the evening.

The next morning I mention to my friend Todd how puzzling the results of my ride were.  The potential answer came quickly to him.  Maybe it wasn't power, it was the power:weight ratio that made the difference.  When I get back to my desk I check my weight log for the 6th of March, 187.5lbs.  I weighed in at 183.7lbs the morning of my second climb.  The 4lb difference in my weight meant that while the wattage I produced was nearly identical, the ratio was higher and I was able to carry myself faster up the hill.  The difference of 4lbs isn't much on the flats, but could it be that over the long steady climb it was the difference in almost two minutes?

While I'm pleased with my progress, there are still a number of questions I have, and little data to make an accurate conclusion.  A third test is in the cards, probably in late August or early September.

Eventually I'll compare points on course to see if I rode noticeably faster on some sections than others.  With these small nuggets of information I can hopefully arm myself to weather the next storm up Pumpkin Ridge.