Competing Parties

There is a battle raging between three parties. I am one of the parties but wear two hats so does that actually make it four parties?

The parties are:

1. The Cardiologist

Who will not give me the ok to race a higher grade. He apparently thinks I tend to be competitive and does not trust me to keep generally to my heart rate restrictions in a race situation. He is ok for me to exceed the limits for 10 or 15 seconds at a time but not for any extended period. Not sure where he has gleaned the idea I am competitive from, even if it is true.

2. The Handicapper

This is the person who determines what grade a cyclist should be contesting. He is of the opinion that I should be racing higher than I am.

3. Me (the cyclist)

I agree with the handicapper and also think I should be racing a higher grade. I also agree with his reasons and rationale. I think I am certainly fit enough and strong enough to race a higher level and do not think I will overly blow by heart rate limits in doing so.

4. Me (the patient)

It doesn’t really matter what I think because ultimately, to ignore the expert advice of my treating cardiologist would be stupid and foolish.

The Dilemma

I managed to win a race on Saturday. It is the first race I have won in 5 or so months While I have been regularly racing, I have been doing so in such a way to pretty much ensure I finish fourth. I have been soft pedaling at the end of races to ensure I meet the requirements of both the handicapper and the cardiologist.

Because it had been some time since my last win and because the event was at the more challenging Lakeside Motor Racing circuit, I decided to work hard during Saturdays race and to then have a crack at a win.

During the race, I set the pace or did the work on the front for perhaps 50 to 60% of the time. I am happy to do this partly for the workout effect and partly because I tend to think the others appreciate it. However the field split quite early on.

I went on to win reasonably comfortably and was rather thrilled when a number of very experienced cyclists congratulated me on the ride and commented that I deserved to win. I was pretty happy with myself.

Looking back though, I am not quite sure about it all.

I am racing at a level below where I think I should be, so of course I should win.

But I am also doing most of the pace making so surely that is effectively a self imposed handicap?

During the race, I was aware of many others competitors breathing very heavily, struggling for oxygen. Up until the last 200 or so metres I was not even slightly out of breath.

I set the pace but in doing so, destroyed the field or half of it anyway.

So, I am racing at a level below my capabilities, winning the money and ruining the race for most others.

I am not sure this is something I can be in any way happy with or can allow to continue.

Everyone going around in the lower grades of club racing is doing so for fun.

All racers have the right to believe they have a even shot at winning or at least being ‘thereabouts’ towards the end of a race. It is not their fault my cardiologist refuses to ok me racing higher. However, for me, simply following wheels would not be much fun at all.

There are three simple solutions:

1. Ignore the recommendations of the cardiologist and go up a grade anyway
2. Attain a level of fitness such that I can prove to my cardiologist I can race higher and within his required heart rate restrictions
3. Stop criterion racing and concentrate on time trials and road races.

The handicapper is a survivor of open heart surgery himself and is very supportive of my situation. However, he has a responsibility to all cyclists to have properly balanced fields.

The cardiologist is the expert and knows what I should and should not be doing. He is also a cyclist and former racer and has an understanding of the different grades of racing. His recommendations are therefore fully informed.

I enjoy the racing and the people involved in cycling and want to continue. I cannot however to totally oblivious to their enjoyment or right to a fair go.

It is a catch 22.

Although here is another solution. If I stop training, lose fitness and put on weight, I can attain the fitness required to justify to all racing at the level I am currently competing at.

I suggest however this would have other negative implications.

Better go; I have a training session to make up for having missed this morning.

Is it all about the bike

It seems to come in waves.

There is a lull for a month or two and then whamo, I get a rush of grief about my bike.

When are you upgrading?
Why are you still riding that old thing?
I see your riding your training bike today........
And from the bike shop, there are not many of these still going around.

However, I admit I am giving it some serious thought.

I have always said that I see no reason to upgrade until I get the impression or feeling that my current equipment is restricting me in some way - or it wears out.

Perhaps it is doing a little of both.

I booked a service with the bike shop last week. I was aware it was some time since my last chain change and felt my cassette might also have fulfilled its life. I also had an increasingly annoying "thump, thump, thump" going downhill under brakes.

Initial Outcome - new chain, new cassette, front wheel re-build and news that rear wheel has about 1000 k's before it also needs a re-build (or about a month)

Plus, 2 days later, new 39 chain ring.

This lead to discussion about the relative cost/benefit of re-building the wheels versus replacing the wheels.

I was surprised to learn what performance benefits I could obtain by purchasing new wheels rather than re-building the ones I have. And for a not much greater cost too. So I decided to do both. Re-build my wheels and keep them as a spare set and buy a new set that will be suitable also when I eventually upgrade the frame.

The wheel discussion then followed a logical progression and we were discussing frames.

My problem is that I simply do not like the aesthetics of sloping geometry and to the extent that I am not interested in hearing about any of the benefits such geometry has (or has not) to offer.

And right now, there are very, very few bikes available out there that do not have sloping geometry.

Yes, Pinnarello is an option but I don't like the look of their forks.

So, in the meantime I will stick with the frame I have, upgrade the wheels and wait for the fashion trend to change - and keep my eyes open for viable traditional frames in the market. And I do like the work of the Melbourne based Baum factory and the Colnago Master X-Light has always had a certain appeal. Shimano, Campag or SRAM to go with the frame. Lets wait and see.

In the meantime, I will continue working on improving the legs and the power to weight equation.

Information - Help or Hinder

Anyone I have communicated with who is remotely involved in cycling, and many people who are not would have been informed with not very much humility of my Mt Coot-tha climb on Tuesday morning.

It was dark, it was cold and I confess to asking myself just what the hell I was doing there.

I did the alternative approach to the start line by going up through Bardon and past Sommerville College. Yes, the soft way. At the right hand turn onto the mountain road, I stopped to adjust my headlight - it was very, very dark - and waited a moment deciding whether I would continue or not. But being there, it seemed silly to go back and I reconciled the situation by deciding on one only accent.

Just as I reached the start line, another cyclist came up beside me and said hello calling me by name. I had no idea who it was in the dark and must have looked puzzled until he said his name, Stephen.

Stephen is a very strong cyclist and was straight out of the saddle doing a strength exercise riding a 54/18 and continued to do so until he was out of my site some about 5 minutes later.

On crossing the start line, I hit the timer and just settled into my rhythm, aware that in the dark I was unable to read my bike computer or heart rate monitor therefore having no idea of speed, cadence, time elapsed or heart rate.

Having nothing to distract me, I simply concentrating on my pedal stroke and breathing.

My perception was of doing a reasonable climb but due to the recent hamstring injury restricting my training, I had no expectations of a great climb. I was thinking something around the 12 minute mark.

Up I went, pedal stroke and breathing. I overtook a few people and was aware of being overtaken (once). I was also aware I was not breathing anywhere near as heavily as the others on the mountain so I pushed a little harder.

This is a regular climb and I have several land marks I aim for. There is a part of the mountain that kicks a few percent for 300 or so metres. I have a tree at this part of the climb after which I allow myself to get out of the saddle but only until the armcor barrier starts again. (I usually count 100 pedal strokes). I was a little surprised to get to it seemingly quickly and in no distress so I clicked it up 2 gears, got off my butt and started counting to 100. And at 75, clicked it up another gear.

I settled back in the seat after 100 down thrusts and regained rhythm until the last 100 metres where I went for the line. Hitting the timer as I crossed the line I was thinking a time in the high 11 minutes. Stopping to get a look at the timer in the bike headlight, I was shocked and surprised to see 10 minutes 49 seconds. By far my best time.

So what does this tell me?

Perhaps it tells me that riding on feel and concentrating on doing the genuinelly important things really well is the key priority. After all, what is more important than breathing and pedalling when cycling.

Perhaps it also tells me that having speed and cadence data available means I actually hold myself back at some level of perceived (but not actual) maximum effort.

I do ride to some heart rate rules determined by my cardiologist. I therefore expected my monitor download to reveal that I had exceeded my required limits. But no, if anything, they were on the low side when compared to other Mt Coot-tha climbs.

The questions I have are:

• Can all the on board data we have available actually result in us applying some form of mental hand break on our performances?
• Is how we analyse and use our data in planning training and assessing race performances more important than having the information on hand during the ride or race?

I think the answers are to combine both - somehow.

By the way, does anyone have a spare power meter?

For the record, I completed the loop and then headed up the short side to the Cafe - just to cool down.

If you are a Goose - Stay on the farm

This morning’s race went well for all but 800 metres.

A good field with some strong riders worked well for the first 20 minutes.

A few attempts to break it up resulted in 6 of us getting clear and again, we worked well be it with a few attacks when heading down the straight into a very strong wind.

A good pace was maintained and it was looking like a bunch sprint to decide the places.

My sprinting ability is only marginally better than my ability to fly from Brisbane to London - without the aid of an aircraft so I decided to position myself at about 3rd wheel into the penultimate lap with a view to attacking just after the rise at the end of the straight as we went into the bell (last) lap.

It all worked perfectly. Off the turn I went for it; out of the saddle shifting up the gears before settling back on the drops and concentrating on the pedal stroke – full pressure – good circles.
I managed a gap of about 40 metres very quickly and a glance back suggested there was not much happening behind me. A glance at the speedo showed 51 kph and while I knew I could not maintain that speed, I thought I could keep it above 40 and there was a strong head wind to face when we hit the straight.

Coming to the third last corner, there was a lapped rider to the far right of the circuit (as he is meant to be) So I set myself to apex the corner and overtake him with plenty of space to spare.
Just to be sure and realising we would enter the corner together, I called to the rider to let him know I was coming.

So I come into the entry and set my exit line, speed has dropped off to 47 kph.

AND the other cyclist decides he will also apex the corner and came straight across in front of me. He was perhaps doing 25 kph sitting high in the saddle and hands on the cross bar. I am doing 47 kph down low on the drops pushing as hard as I can and hurting like hell.
My next move is to scream at him in the hope that he pulls out of his attempt to take the apex. No such luck – he keeps coming.

I grab 2 handfuls of brake and lock the bike up missing him by centimetres and ending up on the grass.

As I was providing the guy with a free character assessment using the full range of socially unacceptable adjectives, the other cyclists still in the race went past.

I don’t really care about not winning or placing in the race. Hell, the prize money isn’t that important when the credit card isn’t yet maxed out.

I do care about the lack of attention by the lapped rider and the lack of care for others safety.

Bike racing is dangerous. Incidents happen in racing. Fact of life. You cannot call yourself a cyclist until you have come off. But, when you get a goose racing like we had this morning, it is dangerous for all and in a situation when there is no need for danger.

Peeved yes – but cannot wait until the next race opportunity.

And yes, I gave him another mouthful on the warm down lap.

Goose

Failed Relationship - Its not me - you have changed

An almost logical progression after taking up cycling a little over five years ago was the development of an interest in the Professional Cycling scene.

Like most Australian’s, I was aware of the Tour de France and a few local races. I also knew a few Australian’s had led the Tour on different occasions and the name Anderson was quite well known.

Most sports followers knew the names of Armstrong, Merckx, Le Monde and we knew Kathy Watt had done something pretty special at the Olympic Games.

As awareness in the pro scene grew, familiarity with the Race to the Sun, and the Spring Classics also developed and it was discovered there were three Grand Tours a year.

Some of the history of the sport came to light. Such things as the Hell of the North, Pantani’s great climbing feats and the tragedy of Tom Simpson were discovered with great enthusiasm.
Information about race tactics, equipment advances, training knowledge and nutrition advice was absorbed with an enthusiastic and unquenchable hunger.

Like many, the consistent source of information was http://www.cyclingnews.com/

It was the first site many went to in the morning and the last site visited each evening.

The site provided race and team news, rider information, technical and equipment updates, product reviews and individual rider news, interviews and analysis.

Via cyclingnews.com new aspects of the sport came to light including cyclocross and MTB.
The website was easy to use and clearly laid out.

I will not be going there anymore.

Two weeks ago, the website was re-launched with a new design and new navigation. I am sure it still contains all the same information. But I don’t really know.

I immediately found it difficult to use but persevered for 2 weeks believing the problem was probably mine. I mean, these people are clever and run a successful website. It must be an improvement on the old site.

Well it is not. It has a complex appearance and it is “not straight forward” in its use and application.

I for one have moved on. I am thankful for the education cyclingnews.com has given me and the passion for the sport of cycling that it has contributed to me now having. However, like many relationships, it is now over and it is time to move on.

Thank you cyclingnews.com for all you have done. Who knows, we may well meet again.

On The Road

You all think you are just so clever. Well let me tell you, right now you are at the top of the school but next year you start at the bottom again and this is a cycle that repeats throughout life. Then after secondary school, it is university and then it is the workforce. You might think you are all very clever now but remember, it does not last for long.

The above is a close approximation of a lecture an angry teacher gave my final year primary class many, many years ago after we had developed the habit of being a little uncontrollable. And it is a lecture I have never forgotten, partly because it continually proves to be true and in many walks of life.

And as recently as Saturday, this wise teacher’s words came into my consciousness.

I have been racing consistently for about 8 months and gradually improving both fitness and race craft. I even thought (naively) I was doing ok and getting to understand a little about this business of bike racing. At least in low grade club events anyway.

However, my racing activities have been restricted to Criterions at Nundah, Lakeside and Murarrie.

On Saturday I completed my first road race out of Elimbah.

Criterions are conducted on nice smooth surfaces free of potholes where at worst, you only push into the wind for a relatively short distance each lap.

The roads we raced on at Elimbah were very rough, contained many pothole hazards including some big enough to break a wheel if you hit them and sections into the wind that went for kilometers not meters.

There were races conducted in two divisions and I was pleased to be allocated the second division race – and I expected to be too.

However I wasn’t really expecting the handicapper to call my name out along with 5 others to start from scratch.

I asked a few other competitors how a handicap road race worked. The best answer I received came from one of my fellow scratch who simply advised “When the starter says go, we go like hell for as long as we can and when we are spent we hang on for dear life and keep going like hell”. Sounds like fun I thought to myself.

The first group of racers left the start line a full 14 minutes before we did, with other groups leaving 11, 8, 6 and 4 minutes before we were waived away.

I was advised we would operate a pace line along the flats and gradual rises and falls and do “your best on the hills and if you get dropped on a hill go hard to get back on because we wont be waiting for you”.

And go like hell we did, on bar jarring pot holed roads into seemingly endless head winds on up hills that seemed like mountains and down hills that seemed so short.

After about 5 kilometers we lost one of our group and it took some 25 kilometers before we caught anyone at all. At about 30 kilometers we had reeled in everyone else and the race was on.

Having a sprint capacity roughly equal to a broken billy cart uphill and knowing my only hope for a win was to break away I stepped on the gas with around 3 kilometers to go and achieved a gap of about 200 meters.

Looking at my heart rate monitor, I decided to ignore a heart rate in a range that would not please my cardiologist.

A kilometer to go and I still had a lead but with pain in the legs and bursting lungs my strength was waning. The chasers caught me with about a hundred meters to go and I finished 5th with a comfortable lead over the next placed cyclist.

Totally spent, aching back and neck, and legs not keen to keep rotating I rolled to a halt before turning and heading back to the finish line where other competitors were gathering. The big thrill came from my scratch partners. These guys are experienced cyclist and experienced road racers. To receive their comments such as “well ridden”, “great ride” and “you made the race and would have deserved a win” was extremely satisfying.

Road racing is tough and very different to criterions. It is fast and furious and you are more reliant on each rider in your start group. You work in cooperation with the people you aim to defeat because to not do so ensures you have no chance of victory.

I knew nothing at the start and now know a tiny little bit about road racing. The words of my primary school teacher came to mind as a racked up my bike and drove home. Her wise words repeatedly are proven to be true as they were again on Saturday. But it is good to be at the bottom again and I look forward eagerly to the next chance to race on the road and rising from the bottom of the heap.

Now for a Time Trial

Is it all about the bike (Part II)

Some time ago I wrote about the pressure I always seem to be under to upgrade my bike.

In the blog post, I referred to my basic satisfaction with the current unit and the fact that I do not perceive it was preventing me achieving any cycling goals, well at least not yet.

Right now, my inclination is to remove the previous entry and deny I ever had such thoughts.

And what about the sequence of events that has led me to this thought process.

Up as usual at 4.10 am. Breakfast etc and into the car. As is the habit, suit etc were packed the night before.

All too often it is a rush to get to the Roma Street meeting place by 5.15 am for a bunch ride but this morning I was on schedule to make it without a mad rush and maybe even with a minute to spare.

Enter the car park and park the car, get the bike out and discover a flat rear tyre.

A quick calculation is all I need to realise if I replace the tube the time it takes means I will miss the bunch start, so not wanting to ride the 40 or so k’s solo without a spare tube (because I would have used the one I had) it is straight to the shower and I am in the office at 5.40am, and very determined to now get away early enough to ride in the afternoon. (Believe me, I would much rather be riding at 5.40 am than following the New York stock market)

There are a few club members who ride most afternoons at about 5.00 pm to either Nudgee or Shorncliffe so sendan SMS to confirm the ride is on today and decide to link with them. So at 4.00 pm I rush home, grab the old (and much loved) steel bike and head to the Nudgee Circuit. And that is where the problem begins.

One of the cyclists arrives on his brand new Time – I think it is a VXRS UL Team Worldstar model and with Fulcrum Zeros, it looks sensational.

I have always admired Time bikes. I think they just drip style and class. And now, for no particularly logical reason I want one. Or if not a Time, a new bike of another brand or model.

With a bit of luck, I will get over this urge – like you get over a headache. It may just be a bout of temporary insanity. It may be having some spare purchasing capacity having just decided not to buy a new car.

Or it maybe that deep down, I really do want a new bike to enjoy and show off and I have been simply resorting to rational thoughts to convince myself I don’t need or want a new bike.

However, I have many friends who think getting up 4 or more mornings a week at 4.10 am defies any concept of rationality so maybe cycling addiction and rational thoughts are an oxymoron anyway.

To upgrade or not to upgrade, that is the dilemma.

But that Time sure looks good.