Raw Talent Ranch

 

Another session.  Another season.   Sit in beltway traffic.  Wind through the shopping crowd maze.  Warm up in the cold mist.  Is this where the group ride starts?

 

The first number I have pinned on since June of last year, since the RFK brick shortened my schedule. 

                                              

As always, but more so with increasing years, the same motivational questions loom.  I still enjoy the bike and still want to be fit and tested but where does this happen?  On a long scenic, demanding but relaxing ride in the hills of West Virginia, or slugging it out with a hundred amped-up, power-tapped rebels on a crit course in Northern Virginia. 

 

At this point it is not yet either or and takes place somewhere in between.   One fuels the other.  The romps in the country gain extra urgency around Feb and March when the testing ground is just ahead.  The back and forth expands the overall experience.            

                                     

Still, performance factors in. 

 

While perhaps not being burdened by the need to prove any big points–secured already via past milestones–the desire to be in the action becomes the criteria.   Without that the sideline vista (or an entirely different endeavor) takes on more pull.  

                                      

With increasing demands outside the race course, and the full time cycling gypsy lifestyle a footnote from another era, time management is a training factor.                      

                              

In my case I am fortunate that my work involves the bike.  Both on the DC mean streets dodging auto tonnage as a courier, and leading training rides in the Lost River bumps and valleys. 

 

My program is loose and not stone written, though it is heavily attuned to the fluxes and changes the body absorbs in determining where peak conditioning lands.   

                                         

Since I never leave the bike, rest becomes a priority and overtraining a concern.  

 

Beside my regular five day a week courier work I primarily rode mountain bikes all winter until the of end  Jan.  Shorter two and three hour rides.  Tough at times but also recon and map filled quests into unknown terrain.  A chance to have some fun and not compromise fitness. 

 

                

Once Feb 1st hits it is time to start what, especially at the onset, feels like work. 

 

Rolling out longer steadier road rides.  Four and then five hour 75 mile journeys with plenty of elevation gain.  Mostly these are long solo slogs sometimes brutally grinding in adverse conditions and generally calling into question why someone would subject themselves to this by choice.  This initial phase of the training arc is to me the hardest and if I didn’t know it was a crucial (and hopefully short) bridge to more rewarding output, it would be easy to pull off and retreat to the warmth. 

     

This season the random factors that get adjusted and tweaked to make my “program” lined up nicely.  After a month of solo riding in Feb., groups began booking the RTR for the crucial March weekends.

                                   

Coincidentally on consecutive weekends I rode with cat fives, cat fours, elite ones and twos and finally just before the season starts a cat one elite neo pro squad.  An even progression and a great way for me to gauge my fitness  

Sorry I can’t reveal squads and rides.  What happens at the barn stays at the barn. 

 

So anyway, this brings us back to Tysons.  

 

I’m suggesting to www.gamjams.net that all of us racers make a small donation of a dollar or two and we hire an actual reporter to tell us what happened.  Otherwise it is just one person’s blog-eye view of the race.  I would love to know exactly who was doing what.  I know where the charges were and when the moves went and vaguely how big they were but don’t know who specifically was animating the action at any given time.  

 

Better yet have the “reportage” service an extension of the race fees themselves.   With all the participants it would be a small portion and then the promoter could feature sponsors in the “Monday morning action file” on line summary. 

                                          

Just an idea. 

           

As it is now after waiting sixty minutes (at least) afterwards and standing in a cold garage shivering when I should have been warm and recovering somewhere, I can tell you that “some guy” from Rite Aid won in the field sprint.   Ken Young of DC Velo was second;Todd Hipp from Harley was third; and Bo Lee of Immediate Mortgage was fourth.  Dave Fuentes was also in the top ten as well as Jared Neiters of Haymarket Bicycles.  I know this ‘cause I saw them hanging out and shivering as well.  Otherwise it was a bunch of numbers on a page.  

                                              

I was tenth. 

 

Exciting day of racing but anti-climatic to say the least after dropping our guts and nuts on the office park pavement. 

 

 

The race unfolded typically.   I had my team with me.  A three-man wrecking crew that comprises the now in black Route 1 Velo/Capital Hill Bikes Elite Squad.                  

                                                               

Jason “Lucky Dawg” Stevenson, who I have been racing with since long ago when we were BURRITO BROTHERS and had a fierce yellow Aztec set against a green background on our kit, which oddly enough echoes the current Rock Racing setup, and Michael Esmonde, who the cat 3’s will be happy to know has moved on to greener less lucrative pastures. 

 

The early tempo was brisk but not scorching.  I bid my time as I Iet the action dictate things and wanted to see just how my body would respond to the first race.  

 

I expect a certain shock to my system even though I had put in some hard efforts in the weekends leading up to Tysons.  

 

It seemed to be going pretty well but it is one thing to hang in the pack and quite another to start hanging your neck out. 

 

Midway through I bridged to a soloing Harley rider and felt okay going across on the back side but by the time we got swarmed on the uphill front I could feel it and needed a couple of laps to recover.  On the up side I had maxed my system some and figured I would recover better with the next effort. 

 

Still I was hedging my bets reluctant to go for moves not wanting to over extend early. 

 

Moves dangled and returned. 

 

Toward the end of the race a big group got loose that contained all the main teams and definitely contained all the money spots.            

               

At this point it didn’t matter what my recovery did.  If this move went the race was done and the pack was riding tired and complacent.  I also had two teammates still in; both of whom are strong finishers. 

                                              

I started putting some efforts on the front hill side.  Jason was there to counter.  Trying to get some pack momentum going.  I didn’t think I could get clear since the large-in-numbers Harley was all over the front but animating things fired up those left out and the gap started closing.

 

Apparently at the same time there was a lack of cooperation in the break between DC Velo and Harley that worked in the favor of those wanting a field sprint. 

 

With three (I think 3 ?) laps to go it was all together.  Riders were still trying things on the hill.  The pack strung out some as the attrition kicked in.  At one point Jason and I were in a short lived seven-man separation that had as good a chance as anything else. 

 

With one showing it was spread out going past the start finish and over the top; lead-outs started forming. 

                                      

I felt good enough to have recovered from my efforts and maneuver into a good slot coming down the hill on the back side. 

 

Hitting the final turn I was pretty much lined up with the sprinters sitting about 8th and just tried to follow wheel and hold on the line. 

        

I believe Mike was somewhere in the top twenty.  

 

All-in-all an encouraging start

 

 

 

 

                               

                                    

 

 

 

Though perhaps technologically challenged, I embrace and marvel at the mad cross-current of colors, shapes, options and voices we have at our finger tips without ever having to set foot outside.

                   

It is the sci-fi world William Gibson and Philip K. Dick predicted and it happened so fast it enveloped us.  Being adaptable creatures we move freely and “normally” within avenues that simply didn’t exist ten years ago. 

 

With the exception of maybe Dubai and South Miami the only thing missing are the Jetsons-like structures from which to transact our quests and interfaces. 

      

Possibly this would remind us that it really isn’t business as usual:  that new languages and tones are colliding and colluding, and that finding the center and the truth within is highly objective and more elusive then ever.

                        

I am trying to make sense of it.    

            

The split repercussions of unfiltered information.  It is wide open, up for grabs and open to all, and it is up to us to sift, sort, and process.  

 

In the ancient model (i.e., 1998) you have a subculture (cycling in this case) and a group of people congregating at events.

 

If you are new maybe you luck out and find some folks to show you the ropes.  On the other hand you may be stuck on the sidelines trying to piece it all together.

 

With actual face-to-face there is the observational advantage of deciphering through volume, body language and performance to determine who might have some insight.

 

With the blogisphere you don’t get that but you get untethered access.

 

By design this is better.  All the resources accessible with an electronic glance, but the problem of selection, attention and focus remains.  Where exactly do you square off?

 

I am not a cultural elitist.  I don’t believe television killed literature.  The Don Dellios and Carmac McCarthys still surfaced. 

 

The accelerating data keeps morphing for better or worse and for better and worse.   Creativity is revealed in unknown formats, in games, programs and in the technology itself.  Plus, we can’t stop it.

 

Teenagers come home and blog about everything they just did.   Every detail.  Do they ever come up for air?  Process, reflect, and conceptualize or is it just a new language.  A different format and venue.  A separate communication. 

 

So yeah, I rode this weekend.  Five and half hours Saturday and four and half hours Sunday.  

 

My legs hurt.   My knees hurt.  My back hurt.   My eyesight was okay.  I dug the pain and the pain dug me.

 

Each day I had two water bottles of Gatorade, a chocolate power bar and a chocolate mint zone bar.  Simple compact and tasty.

                                                      

I didn’t stop and I didn’t talk.  I rode alone.

        

Saturday was windy.   Never got above 32 degrees and the gusts were about 30 mph.  75 miles; 15 on dirt.  Big rocks eclipsed by the scenery.  Very loud and relentless but supposedly character building.

              

Sunday was steadier but also more climbing.   An established route with a long stretch on the “old 55″ a great road that is practically car free since they built the interstate six lane Corridor H parallel to it. 

 

Is similar to riding on Skyline Drive.  Smooth surface.  Well graded.  Mild switchbacks for fast descents and just very tranquil.  This all takes place in Lost River, West Virginia.  Note:  Gratuitous RTR plug just occurred.

 

Both days combined I saw 7 deer, no bears (sometimes I see bears), 12 wild turkeys (all in one pack and they can fly), some hawks, lots of cows, horse and goats, and some sheep.

 

It was a big weekend of T.I.T.S., which for the uninitiated would be TIME IN THE SADDLE. 

 

LSD (long slow distance) is so old school. 

 

This is the modern template.

 

There, I’ve blogged so now I must have ridden.              

            

                                         

 

 

 

Something about the end of Feb, the fourth month of cold (and it really hasn’t been that bad) brings body pain and specifically knee soreness to the foreground.

                                               

A long time ago I was told not to complain because no one wants to hear it and that is still a solid edict. 

                  

When it comes to cyclists each one has their own specific stories of aches, so probably the main reason they will listen to yours is that they can wait and then expound on theirs.                   

                                

I get a distracting knee pain near the end of every winter.  It gets bad enough for me to question if I will even be able to race.  I consider my age and think perhaps this is finally the result of wear and tear and an indicator to back off.  I also factor in that one of my knees (the one that doesn’t hurt) was shattered 12 years ago and has a coil of wires and screws in it.  The compensation factor (more on that later) levies extra work on the good knee, which ironically is now the bad knee!

 

Miraculously, so far anyway, by the time June rolls around all this February woe is long forgotten and the body is again limber.  Because of this I go on faith that the internal turbulence will level out while still trying to get my miles and prepare my fitness.

 

This is when the mind games begin.   I would simply rest if I knew it would work but I have tried that and it doesn’t change anything.   The points of pressure rise up like dormant demons and my time off the bike has no yield. 

 

The best I have come up with is to keep riding.  Make small adjustments in the stroke.  Very very small or more specifically try to summon different muscle groups to take tension off the hurting area while still holding form.

 

Try pushing on the pedals and using more of the glutes, abs and lower back to generate power.  You will be less efficient this way and create a harder workout but in the process you take some of the load off the knees.

                               

This is tricky and can make for a long day in the saddle.  Recently after a week of courier riding I went back out to do a bona fide training ride.  I had thought the pain level was down because I rode all week with out any big spikes.  I rode through the low level burn and thought it might be subsiding.  The bike work is deceptive because you don’t apply the same steady pressure that you do on a training ride and you surely don’t have any five mile sustained climbs.

                               

When I started my ride the pain was there immediately.   From the initial stroke.  The entire first hour was a battle with myself to just keep going.   Plus it was cold, wet and you start to say what is the point. 

          

Fortunately I had some good roads and scenery to lure me forward and keep me engaged, but the degree of pain never changed the entire time.   The only thing that shifted was how my thoughts and mind processed the hurt signals.                     

                

In retrospect it is odd to be out there rolling like that and even odder to find enjoyment within the paradoxical body equation.                             

                 

Along with the knee a snow ball effect kicks in from compensating.  Extra stress on the back, and eventually the other knee from making up the difference.  These factors make recovery more difficult then under regular circumstance and negate doing back to back long rides.  

 

The entire situation is convoluted and all I can do is monitor it.  I am well aware of more tangible injuries that do require rest and repair but this particular pain doesn’t fit in any easily diagnosed box. 

 

I keep pedaling and wait for the warmth to come. 

 

 

 

 

 

Who do you listen to and what do you base your findings and assumptions on?  These are questions filled with variables and variables that shift as we acquire knowledge and skill.

                                                           

The novice rider is a clean slate - - amped on finding a new discipline and thirsty to discover ways to harness the excitement into results.

                                             

Information is available in many forms and voices.  Some plunge headfirst into the game and start wailing, while others take the pragmatic approach as they look for cues and make sure the runway is clear. 

                                                                                                             

The theme of my last post on programs was how do we weave through the methods and find what’s best for us. 

 

We need to establish what we respond to and mesh that with an existing system or adapt it to one of our own design. 

                             

There are templates and there are fundamentals but there is not one “way.” 

             

For me, the approach is tempered by two separate learning experiences, both yielding unfavorable outcomes.

                      

The first was with guitar lessons.   It wasn’t necessarily a setback but it surely wasn’t a gain and is an example of over instruction killing desire and motivation. 

      

As a seventeen year-old kid who wanted to play guitar, I was fortunate enough to get lessons from a professional musician.

                                                                                                               

He hit me straight away with scales, theory and exercises.  This is important foundation stuff, and there IS a tough initial learning phase in gaining finger strength, but the introductory portion went on so long without ANY kind of gratification that I lost interest. 

                 

Four years later I decided I still wanted to learn the thing so I bought some song books with finger chord diagrams of music  I liked, locked myself in a room for a few months while coaxing  out  sounds that resonated and enticed me to keep going.

                      

After building the strength and coordination to maintain and hold a rhythm I went back and learned the valuable theory that I had no recall of ever seeing and that now made some sense to me. 

                        

This was a false start.  Not really a loss but maybe a lost opportunity.  

 

The second lesson in instruction is more involved and required a long term time investment in order to truly test the techniques and changes that were offered. 

 

I lived near a golf course growing up in NJ that had caddies, not unlike the action in Caddyshack minus the Rodney Dangerfield character. 

                                            

Not really the norm elsewhere but kids in my town made cash money toting golf bags and by extension got into the game.  Someone took me to play when I was 12 and I got hooked immediately.  In short time I had abandoned other ball sports.

                                

I took to the game quick and success is a good motivator.  By the time I was 16 I had a 5 handicap and was doing well in competitions.  Made it to semi finals in the junior state championship and also had a strong four-round score in a big junior tournament at Rutgers, 76/76/77/76, in 1976 the bicentennial year. 

 

All of this without any lessons or instruction.  Watching pros and mimicking seemed to be working. That and a lot of practice.

 

Around this same time I got an upgrade on my caddy status to a job in the “bag room.”  Basically cleaning members clubs post round and putting the bags away. 

 

The club professional saw my talent and offered me an opportunity to fine tune my game. 

                                               

As long as I didn’t get in anyone’s way and the work was done before the next morning, I could golf as much as I wanted.   It was ideal.  Sometimes I would be there until eleven at night cleaning clubs, but that didn’t matter because I had used the daylight hours hitting balls.

                                        

The setup was optimum.  A public links guy with full country club access and a young pro wanting to take him under his wing.  No charges.  

 

The pro totally revamped my swing convincing me it was necessary to get to the next level.  The Johnny Miller square-to-square system was popular in 1977 and the pro taught this as gospel.

       

He assured me initial difficulties with the dramatic grip and stroke alterations would eventually yield a much purer and professional striking of the ball. 

                            

I committed to suffering backwards momentum and skyrocketing scores with the promise of glory in the long run.

                                 

Occasionally I hit a shot with bigger trajectory and crisper spin–enough times to keep me interested but not enough to show up on the scorecard.

                  

It was a long process.  A year before my scores came back to near where they had already been, but even at best, that was occasionally.

                                                         

Ultimately I had to confront that I had gone a long way down the wrong road and attempt to make my way back. 

          

I had veered so far from my natural move that I could never consistently reproduce what I had been trying to do. 

      

There wasn’t an easy way to go back to the original style.  Too much had been altered from what had been an unconscious smooth rhythmic move.  I tried for a long time and it was no longer there.

                                   

The cycling stroke, while having many components, is not as delicate and vulnerable as some other endeavors.  You hear of athletes who “have it” then lose it.  Place kickers.  Pitchers. Golfers.  Hitting a baseball.  All of these can mysteriously come and go. 

                    

I learned a hard lesson about deviating too much from what is produced naturally.  Perhaps a more sensitive teacher could have made small fundamental shifts and maintained the aspects which flowed confidently. 

 

Years later, after abandoning the game, I saw an old home movie of me at 12 years old, choked down on a too big club and ripping a tee shot.  It already looked pro. 

                                                               

If you watch top performers in any sport there are similarities in rhythm and point of impact but how they get there are quite varied. 

                      

There needs to be a balance in emulation from what you see and what you own body can do.   It can’t be forced and going against body type is swimming up stream.                     

                 

I guess I’m trying to say be selective and sensible in who you take your advice from.

 

It is a rare teacher who can instantly know the full scope of your ability, background and circumstance.  It is up to you to articulate those factors into the program and be aware of what you have and what you are working with.  

 

There are a host of “in the park” riders who are all kitted up with the moves the looks and the gear, but you put them in a race and they go backwards. To the untrained eye they may look “pro” and that is good enough for them.

                     

Then there is the hammer.  Maybe not text book according to the manual but able to use the body over and over.  Efficient in the right places and moments. They may have a quirk or a hitch but they can reproduce that aspect over and over and, in fact, that is what gives them their rhythm and groove and by extension their power. 

 

It may be something that is not “supposed” to be there, but take it away and the mojo is gone. 

 

As much as you need to learn the parameters of what you are doing you need to know yourself first so these matters can intersect.  

 

Along with that, being able to step back and see the bigger picture helps you put the trends of the moment against the greater sweep and evolution of what is going on, and thus pick and choose the aspects best fitting.

 

Just because everyone is doing it doesn’t make it right. 

 

 

       

                                     

 

 

 

It is the beginning of February and it is time to lock it down.   Ride longer despite conditions.  There isn’t much time before the first event.  It is simply that you can suffer now or suffer later and I would rather suffer on my own devices then from the whims of the peloton.

The personal marker of February takes into account that I don’t really let the fitness go that much in the first place.

Part of that is due to my bike messenger occupation.  Not having the liberty to be off the bike, I have to construct my fitness in an economical fashion.  After full race weekends or full training weekends I roll out Monday morning at 8 am for nine hours of activity.  It becomes a balancing act and the challenge is how can I rest properly while still getting enough race-worthy high end fitness.

Some have called courier work “junk miles” and I suppose compared to straight full time training blocks they are inferior.  On the other hand there is a forced repetition of skills and technique that pay pretty good dividends.

Out of a small pool of athletes, the successes of DC bike messengers is statistically impressive.

Russ Langley, Heidi Woolever and Sheba Farrin all started in the DC traffic lanes.  There is also Chris Schmitt and Zach Browne who some of the newer racers may not have heard of.   Chris was the only DC resident to qualify for the ‘04 Olympic Trials (the rest of the MABRA representation was the Snow Valley Team who became Pro the following year, and btw yours truly went in 2000).  Zach accumulated three elite level district championship titles as well as scoring top tens in NRC races like Somerville before retiring last year.  I also have to give a shout-out to Jason Stevenson, Shane Groth and John Whittington, three other couriers who have impacted the race scene.

The downside of couriering is that though you are on the bike virtually all day there are few sustained efforts.  You can practice your stroke and your spin but the high end is hard to tap into.  Maybe some small ring accelerations are possible but that fits into the technique category.

If you were to really kick it hard in the big ring downtown at race speeds you might feel cool and attract some attention, but your career as a healthy unhospitalized contractor would be short lived.  Too many obstacles.

The only places I get bona fide high end heart-rate work is climbing Wisconsin Ave or punching it from the Key Bridge up Wilson to Clarendon, but even those efforts are tricky and I generally only hit that hard when it is warm.

When it is cold you just heat up too much then (unlike regular training) have to go inside a building, notch it down significantly and when you come back outside the whole temperature thing is screwed up.

Again.  It is do-able but not conducive to a long prosperous career.  Too erratic.

The bike work is a component to the whole race thing.  Best used as a starting point or a monitoring agent.

Despite all that, it is still time in the saddle but a different format; almost like cross training.   It’s not mountain biking and it’s not road racing.  It is urban assault riding; a way to maintain some degree of fitness (though I have said that is negotiable) while not getting burned out on training and the entire race scene.

This is crucial to doing well on the bike and the second reason I generally don’t let my fitness drop too low.  It is about finding types of riding that keep you engaged so that when another season rolls around it still feels new.

I began cycling when, at age 31, as an out of work carpenter I started couriering.  I got into bike touring at the same time, crossing the U.S. on consecutive Augusts.  After all that I decided to try racing.  I was already into exploring on the bike and the racing brought competition into play to liven the whole deal.

After my first race season, rather then continue into the autumn doing the 10:00 AM ride, which though full of its own charms—it is in many ways unsanctioned racing—it seemed natural to escape the city, take the bike to the hills and explore with the side benefit of continuing to build strength and base.

Since that time I have never stopped doing that, with the exception of a three year period when I was on a heavier race schedule and took off for month-long training sessions in Tucson.

This is ultimately what led me to Lost River, West Virginia and this winter has been filled with lots of mountain bike recon missions into the nooks and crannies, which are kind of endless.  Fire roads, old farm roads, older stagecoach roads and trails.  On and on.   Jumping on the bike.  Seeing what I can see and having no heavy mission beyond that.

Along the way serious strength work is acquired just trying to get out of the places you get into!

The object is to find as many tracks and variations so that the training part is an afterthought–a by product to a fuller experience.

That is probably why cross racing has grown so much.  It is another slant on the format.

Do whatever it takes to keep it fresh; it is purely subjective.  Some people like the numbers.  The numbers keep them excited and motivated.   The numbers give them definitions and structure and the numbers offer a road map with connect-the-dot type destinations of what could would and will happen if the numbers are subscribed to.

Of course this kind of arithmetic approach depends on who is applying the graph and working the beakers in the lab.  Like any study it is open to interpretation.  Everyone has their versions and when it comes to racing, at least at the start line, one would be foolish to not be confident their method is best.  Perhaps after the fact one can reassess and make a determination.

The danger of strict systems is that they require a thorough commitment and such a degree of time invested that after a while an objective analysis becomes elusive.

So it comes full circle to programs.  Obviously I am not a big numbers guy but I know what the numbers mean.  For me they are bulky, cumbersome and unattractive, yet everything I do corresponds to the numbers in that I am operating a program to reach a goal.  I am monitoring and manipulating my body the entire time.

Most importantly I am doing it in a way that best motivates me.  Without that it is a grind and to find that sweet spot you can only work off what YOU respond to not what the current magazines are offering.  Yet at the same time you need to grasp and understand the ways and fundamentals that have been established long ago and have been tried and tested.

It really comes down to language and what patterns best correlate to your internal mechanism.

Even at the top of the game of any pro sport there will be opposing voices of what some one should have done when.  Everyone has something to say except about the one person or team who actually are victorious.

It’s natural.  It’s the yin and the yang of things.  Perpetual, we can’t operate without, but inside that round pure symbol with the smooth graceful line intersecting there is a world of tiny friction clinging to the curves arches and spires.

So it is the beginning of February and I have started ramping up my program.  Can’t say exactly what I am doing but I have my reasons.

The weeks and days are ticking down to the start of the MABRA race season March 29th.

Folks are locking down those crucial weekends leading up to Jefferson Cup but there is still some space for early March and February training.

Due to the largeness of the barn advance booking rates remain $300 based on six people.

In the event that there is an unbooked weekend on the weekdays leading to, we are offering a special “standby” rate of $75 per person based on a three-person minimum occupancy.

From talking to people who want to come out and train on the quiet country mountain roads, I hear a big hurdle is assembling a group of friends or teammates who can all agree on the same weekend.

That is why we are offering the last minute reduced package.

I also encourage riders to contact me individually and if I can get three or more from different teams but comparable abilities we could have a composite group and still get in some solid training.

I am out there riding almost every weekend anyway and would be willing to introduce and lead a group who are interested in something like this.

If I can compile a list of those who like this idea, on unbooked weekends I will send out a cc’d announcement and see what can be put together.

LOGISTICS

From hearing local chatter, two common questions are “how far is it” and “what about the weather?”

The weather is slightly colder than metropolitan DC but not much different.  If it is bad here it is bad there.  It is in the mountains but is not Canada.  Winter riding can be a challenge anywhere.  This is my fifth winter out there and though there are times when I miss Tucson and Mt. Lemon, I have been able to train regularly and get the base and strength training I need to compete.

Even after snow days the roads get cleared pretty quickly and if you have a mountain bike or cross bike that is a great option in extreme cases and post snow if there are still covered road patches.

Recently we had several inches of snow (DC had 2; WV had 4) I had a great ride on the mountain bike.  It was still cold enough not to be messy and the crunchy bright white surface through the stream bordered woods was sublime.

LOCATION

It is less then two hours from the beltway.  About 2 hours and 15 minutes from Capitol Hill.

Much closer then more common West Virginia destinations like Canaan, Snowshoe or Seneca Rocks.

Lost River and Hardy County WV are some of the first stops when you cross over from Virginia.

Another marker is three ridges west of Skyline, for those of you acquainted with Skyline Drive.

The ridge west of the I-81 valley is the dividing line between the states and Lost River is on the other side of it.

Essentially an hour west of Front Royal and 45 minutes north of Harrisonburg.

Once you get beyond the DC sprawl the country roads and scenery open up.  I have gotten used to the mild trek and find that the soul clearing aspects far outweigh the transport concerns and when I return to DC I am always rejuvenated.

So there you have it.  Some ideas and prospects for anyone who may be on a similar interest track.

I have been riding in the mountains since I first started racing.  Getting my feet wet on the rock creek ten o’clock and shortly after that seeking out big routes out of Front Royal.

‘Logged a lot of time at the Pioneer Motel in Front Royal near Skyline just so I could stockpile big miles and clock scenery both days of a weekend.

The riding was great but the accommodations, while functional, were rough and costly.

Improving on that while seeking out better less crowded roads has fueled my vision for RTR.

It’s something I would have enjoyed had it existed. Now it does….

RTR is into its second year of operations and I wanted to thank everyone who stayed at the barn, participated in rides and made the experience rewarding all around.

It is also noteworthy that out of a relatively small sampling of riders the results by guests were rather large.

Russ Langley of Battley Harley is well acquainted with the long sprawling routes and the demanding fire-road climbs. He had a stellar year wearing the leader’s jersey in both the Tour of Virginia and the Fitchburg Longsjo Classic after taking the opening time trial in those NRC events.

His teammate Evan Fader, in just his first season on the National Pro Circuit had a break-out ride at the $10,000 Iron Hill Classic nailing a race long breakaway and ultimately scoring second place.

Another young rider who broke big on the national scene is Jenny Bodine who rode for Latitude.  This year she will be riding for a new elite level national team, and I’m happy to announce RTR will have a spot on the jersey.

Jenny won the Collegiate Crit National Championship. She continued her winning ways all season and had a great second place to Laura Van Gilder in a high profile high dollar national women’s pro race in Wilmington at the end of last year.

Naturally these folks work hard across the board and RTR is just a small component to a larger program. But knowing how tough the climbing is from personal experience and witnessing some dedicated riding, it is validating when the big results come through.

Other folks who scored are Zach Allison and the NCVC juniors. NCVC won the junior club of the year in Velo News and Zach was the top ranked junior stage racer in the country last year.

“I also want to thank Sue Hefler and HPC and the Capitol Hill Bikes/Route One Velo squads for their continued support in West Virginia. Am looking forward to seeing you again this year.”

Congratulations to all on their hard earned efforts and good luck in ‘08.

Dudes and gals hyping up events to come.  Anticipation, expectation and vindication.  A chance to do it for the first time or do it all again.

The nature of a fresh start.   The wide capacity for expanded possibility.  The sure thing coaches program and the latest in the lightest equipment.  Guaranteed results.  This is going to be everyone’s year!

They’re off the front and they haven’t even left the gate. A testament to enthusiasm, belief and rebirth.

Who can hold them off?  Who can use their energy the best?  Who can stretch it out from February until October?

Jeff Cup is filled but you can get a walk-on tryout for Reston in June.  No waiting list…

It is the same every year and the nature of a stringent weeding out process.  The sport gets more popular with good reason; it is cool, exciting and makes you feel good.  Yet, it is also a competition not a “fun” ride for charity, and there are only so many spots at the top.

A slight paradox in that something most of us begin for the simple pleasure of exercising  in the fresh, warm air, morphs into a sharply angled, discipline defined, equipment dictated and teammate bordered quest to convert, shape and transport our bodies into high-end, low-fat, ripped and limber precision cycling beings.

Yes, there are degrees of pursuit, categories rankings etc., but even this is in distinct contrast to say–your weekend golf matches–where if you show up for the new year with your game not yet pristine you simply present a higher handicap and level things out.  Even at the professional end of that sport a rusty few early holes can be reclaimed in the tournament arc.

The peloton is much less forgiving.  Pin the number on while off-form and usually your race is over within the first hour and you are relegated to either waiting for teammates who are doing what YOU drove 150 miles to do, or ponder your planning and choices on the long car ride home.

So we are in the early PRE-season.   Folks speculate on their programs and options.

Hit some group rides, punch some numbers, make some claims or lay low and deny they are training at all.

The masses spread out with a common goal and each one with a grand version of how it will play out before reality kicks in and numbers, conditioning and skill force a harsh funneling effect on the crowd.

This has always been the case and blog diaries now echo and spread the chatter.  Maybe some insight into routines and methods or just quirky diversions for the sport specific audience.   Www.gamjams.net is now the TMZ of MABRA.  It is all out there to see.   An exciting development.  A chance to monitor the minutia and see what works.   Compare notes in the abstract with no times or placings to lend finality to the discussion.

It is a full range of aspects that go into the ultimate and finished product–the one who crosses the line.  Energies physical, emotional, mental, technical and subconscious.

A lot to expend but who knows who has the balance down just right.  It is very individual specific, and charts are just guides not maps.

Maybe the person taking the flyer can hang it out there the whole time.  Make it to the line.   It’s always a long shot but we won’t really know until October.   Right now all we have are words and numbers.

Some are riding.  Some are typing.  Some are riding and typing and some are hiding.

It’s a long season.

 

 

 

 

                                 

Anyone who puts time in racing will eventually confront the pavement and by extension confront losing much they have worked to achieve. 

 

The wild cards and jokers come in all shapes and sizes and I have seen my share.   From full blown career and life threatening stays in the ICU to annoying colds and illnesses that surface when running the immune system on its red line.

                                                                                               

Either way it is a jolt and a diversion.  A halt to the process and a forced interruption.  One is taken out of their routine and element and must devise an entirely new plan. 

 

That is the plain fact.  Detours and how we handle them are a constant in all things but having a long training arc abruptly intersected requires extra resolve. 

                                             

For me last season ended early when a chronic back injury grounded me in late June.                                 

 

I have returned from more serious setbacks but doing that means really stretching out, working even harder and squeezing each drop to return to form.  Perhaps the stakes and motivations were higher then, or maybe there are only so many times you can “go to the well.”

                        

Another factor for me in ‘06 was ongoing work getting the Lost River Barn structure up and running.  I chose to put my energy into completing that project rather then mount another ramp-p to competition when the schedule was wearing down.   Also, I knew if I could tie up lose ends there, it would free me for more regular and consistent training in the future i.e., this season.   

                                

The long gradual path that brings a racer to peak form in June, for me started back in January, when in addition to my weekday  courier miles I began rolling out long steady weekend distance in the mountains.  

                                    

Missing half a season and generally not riding as much as I did in the past meant I had a lot of work ahead to return to peak form.  On the other hand, I now had the time and the venue to put in quality miles without having to rush or force the progress.

                                          

I could map out the season and let the form develop while enjoying the bike amidst the hard workouts. 

                                      

This entire process would, if all went well, culminate with the Masters National Championships in the second week of July. 

              

To target something six months prior is a loose plan subject to variables and turns, but as marks are met and plateaus are hit the cross hairs stand more defined each day.

                    

Getting the base back.  Working on the timing.   Doing some speed work.  Lots of climbing.  Strength work.  And then the races start.  March; finding the legs and hanging on.  Suffering but finishing.  April; a little less suffering.  Some minor results.  May; starting to feel it. Going in moves, sticking the neck out.  Suffering even a little less then April.  June; finally comfortable being in the action. Able to animate.  Able to recover.  Acclimated to the summer heat and back in the race groove.                       

                                               

Three weeks before Nats and a decent ride in the Crystal City Classic Pro race.  A few more races to go and I am right on track.  All the time and effort is now yielding  dividends.  The physical work has been done and the rest is focus and mental preparation.

                              

All that was rudely eclipsed by a brick on the race course at RFK stadium. Immediately after, and the days following, as  I waited for the pain to recede it didn’t occur to me that this might take me out of some big events.

 

In the context of previous wrecks:

 

Broken jaws - three

Broken noses - two

Broken collar bone - two

Broken arm

Broken leg

Broken wrist

Shattered knee cap

Fractured cheek bone

Fractured orbital

 

This little spill wouldn’t seem to register on the scale of serious deficit, but ten days later and I still have unusual swelling.  I am gradually realizing that my quest for a national title will have to wait at least another year.  Even if I can ride, my form would be dramatically reduced and I would have to alter my stroke.  There isn’t much of a percentage in going.                  

                             

Sometimes it is obvious and finite and sometimes it is stretched out   The point of realization.  In this case it took some time to finally ascertain that this injury is not snapping back. 

                                          

It can always be worse and having life and health trump these little divots, but in the context of a competitive racer trying to operate at one hundred percent, it is a continual rollercoaster of opposing forces. 

                         

I keep my goals close to the cuff.  They are there, but if some one asks me I say simply to make it through an entire season with out sickness or injury.  If that happens, then maybe the more specific achievements can be realized. 

 

In the meantime there is nothing else to do but regroup and refocus.  Relax and enjoy the forced time off the bike.  Try to maintain aspects of fitness that can be maintained.   Wipe the slate clean and start off on a new direction. 

 

Building form is like building blocks and building a foundation.  Long steady and solid.   Determining from the data exactly how the puzzle works and laying down the pieces gently.  

      

As solid as a well built foundation can be, it is also a house of cards that is subject to the most random of elements and will usually, at some point, have to be reassembled. 

 

                                                                          

 

 

VENUE

 

In the heat, on the tarmac, near the swamp, next to the stadium, under the overpass and in the hood.  Not a traditional race venue. 

                                                                   

On the other hand, when viewed with hazy hundred degree lenses, the mixed bag of odd elements make for a surreal stomp. 

                                                                                 

With the multitude of grand post card settings and active urban areas in the district, it remains a huge disappointment that so many obstacles hinder the nation’s capitol from presenting a marquee event.                        

                                

Kudos to Hub Racing for navigating the powers that be to bring us our one event.   Over the years they have grown the RFK  race into a noteworthy stop.   Love it or leave it there is some serious action in that parking lot.

 

THE COURSE

 

The remains of a failed Formula One track (I believe they neglected to tell the neighborhood about the motor sound).

                                                                  

It serpentines the stadium parking area for about a mile, and is defined by different textured pavement and the vague lines marking it. 

                            

Because the lot is fully exposed there is wind and extreme heat to contend with, which in the absence of hills, create an attrition and difficulty factor of their own.

.                             

THE FIELD (the race)

 

Another strong MABRA turnout.  All the best teams and players are in attendance as well as national elite level riders from Natures Path and Fruittopia still in town following the Crystal City Classic.

                          

The day before at the CCC the depth of our area talent was on display.  Josh Frick and Russ Langley (along with Sebastian Alexander of Rite Aid) were key players in a long dangerous fifteen lap break that was eventually absorbed.      

 

In the end Peter Cannel of Immediate Mortgage and Rick Norton of Kelly Benefits took third and forth place in a field of pro squads. 

                   

Evan Fader, yours truly, and Nick Friesen also slotted in the money spots at 22nd and 27th and 30^th, respectively. 

                                          

That D 20 has some good horsepower is already known, but the showing in Crystal City reaffirmed it.   

               

Like all local races the pace at RFK would be rapid from the gun.  

 

Moves, counters, jumps, bridges and more counters.  I tried to stay in the action as much as possible and at the point my race prematurely ended the field was close to snapping.  It was a lap later when a group of 11 went clear and Fruittopia took the win. 

              

THE BRICK (impedments)

      

Attention: if you are my Mom feel free to bypass the next section.  Per our discussion Sunday there were no injuries incurred. 

                  

Preparing a race course is a large and cumbersome task.  More so in a sports stadium filled with shiny scraps and obstacles.                                                 

                                   

Promoters do the best they can but racers must be vigilante and proactive for their own safety. 

 

At RFK there is plenty of room inside the designated “lines” that define the route, but beyond that boundary there is more pavement and it is hard for opportunist competitors to resist attempting better angles.                           

                   

Note to my fellow speed cyclists.    If you are going to break through that fourth wall, signal out loudly and clearly any unusual foreign objects that wouldn’t normally appear in a sanctioned race setting. 

 

As a bike messenger I am on high alert for hostile and diverting missiles.  I also travel at a much more relaxed pace so as to process the things that arrive from left field. 

          

At RFK  the field was strung out once more and the thin line of riders pushed forward (and off course).  While following the wheel in front of me I am jolted jarred and catapulted over my bars and in the air.

                               

I saw a BIG object at the same moment the violence started.  There was no avoiding it.  The crash was already in progress. For a second I thought I could do a Houdini and emerge unscathed but that was fleeting.  Next I was sliding on the pavement and the race was gone. 

                          

I’m lying there slowly coming to.  Taking catalogue of my situation.  Hard impact but no broken bones.   Cracked helmet.  Mostly, I am angry ‘cause I know I hit something odd but don’t know what. 

I look behind me twenty feet and see a BRICK.  A full sized chunk of a former building or something.  It is just beyond the white line.  I point it out to the race official and he informs me it is “off course” as if maybe it was my fault.   Doesn’t make me feel any better.  

                        

THE EXIT

 

So now I am stuck on the pavement.   It is a hundred degrees and there is no shade.   I am considering my options. 

                                                               

The official is encouraging me to stay put and wait for EMT, but I feel I have a pretty good grasp of what is going on with my body.   I want to get up and get out of the sun.  When I stand, though scraped badly, I realize I could maybe still ride, but my bike is inoperable.  If it wasn’t I would have rolled back to the pit to at least see how everything felt. 

 

I’m thinking I need to minimize my losses.  My schedule for the day included leaving RFK immediately post race and driving to Raw Talent Ranch.   I had guests arriving the next day and needed to mow the meadow before it got dark out.

                          

I decided to take advantage of the unfortunate tumble and proceed westbound  This process included retrieving my bike from the two folks who were kind enough to help me on the race course, finding the most direct route back to my car and driving towards West Virginia.           

                                                                                           

Later I found out, through calls and emails, that folks at the start finish line, upon hearing my helmet was cracked and seeing me walk (wander to their eyes) off course were concerned for my safety. 

 

By five thirty I was aboard the tractor grooming the meadow.  Cut bruised Neosporined and bandaged miles from DC but still feeling its “impact.”

 

I let the Percosets warm my body and dull the pain as the late day sun casts mountain shadows.  Just another day in the saddle.