But these days things are different. After taking a new job that limits my riding, and injuring my back (again) a couple of weeks ago, I’m still in good spirits. My weight is up a little. My muscle mass is down a little. None of that matters.

I’m realizing that nothing is the end of the world. Fitness comes back. Injuries heal. Races come and go. “There’s always next year.” And the year after that, etc.

Right now I’m focussing on having fun. In a few hours I’ll be headed up to Big M for the Lumberjack 100. Not to race, but to spectate and (hopefully) patrol, if my back feels up to it. I’m just as excited as I would be to race.

I’m spending time getting my lovely girlfriend into cycling. She’s an animal. I see lots of long bike rides in our wonderful future.

I’m building bikes. A lot of bikes. Bikes for me and bikes for friends. I’m considering taking that a bit further and doing some business with it for a little bit of money.

I’m taking the time I’ve recently said I wanted to slow down and enjoy the scenery while I pedal. Mostly because I have to, but I’m OK with that. I asked for it and it was given to me, albeit in a way I didn’t expect.

All of this stems from the fact that all we have is right now. I don’t know what my cycling future will bring, and I don’t need to know. I have plans and desires and I will get to them all when the time is right. For now I’m just surrendering to the flow.

My revised plans for this season:
- Cross-dressing at the Tree Farm Relay
- Cyclocross!
- Maybe an off-road hundo at the 12hrs of Addison in October
- A decent Iceman time
- Build as many bikes as possible

Cyclocross

Love it. Gonna keep doing it. I suck at remounts. That’s what she said.

Massive Fallout

For the first time ever I actually rode all four trails in a single day for around 60 miles of riding. The weather was fantastic and the ride went without incident.

Iceman

Didn’t hit my 2hr goal, but I’m OK with that. Got a flat in the first few miles after bumping into someone’s chainring. Rallied, learned a lot, came in around 2:30. Spent the rest of the weekend drinking.

Boom, hot dog. There’s the end of my season in a nut shell. 2010 was a crazy year and I accomplished a lot. I’ll chalk it up as a success.

What’s Next

As those of you who ride bicycles know all too well, winter is upon us. This is considered the off season and rightly so. It’s cold, it’s dark. Hide yer kids, hide yer wife.

I’ve taken up a new cycling endeavor during this off season: track. The Forest City Velodrome in London, Ontario is one of four indoor velodromes in North America, and happens to be only a couple short hours from my residence. Last year I took their Track 1 session and had a blast. This year I retook the Track 1 session and decided to ride the wooden wave (not a euphemism) throughout the winter.

A couple of us went back for a recreational riding session. The sense of security one gets from Rob, the Track 1 session leader, barking orders at you as you fly around the track is subtle until one enters the ‘drome by one’s self. We were a little scared to say the least.

Rob grabbed a couple of regulars and said, “Hey, these guys are going to follow you for a couple of hours.” Luckily for us they were totally cool with that. Unfortunately we didn’t get any names. One guy really held our hands throughout the session. He reminded us to hold our lines, to stay on the black line (the lowest line on the track), and eventually told us how to peel off the front of a pace line.

“See that orange line? Follow that up the track and then come back toward the end of the pace line.”

When it was my turn to peel off, I did so and shortly heard a soft, “ooooohhhhhh.” My new friend drifted below me as I moved back and said calmly, “don’t get too close to the blue line.”

There are four lines on the track: black, red, blue, and yellow. The lines go from low to high with the lowest being just a foot or so off the ground to the highest being roughly 10-12 feet off the ground in the turns. When transitioning off the front of a pace line, one rides between the red and blue lines. During these sessions there’s usually two pace lines going at one time with the slower riders on the black and the faster riders on the blue. (See the video linked a couple of paragraphs above)

I had apparently drifted a bit too close to the blue line and had nearly interrupted the pace line of faster riders. I glanced over my right shoulder and saw a long line of riders. I then gently, in a state of controlled panic, drifted back down between the red and blue lines. All of this took place in a few seconds, traveling at about 20mph along a 50 degree bank.

Riding that speed on a wooden track with a fixed-gear bicycle between two lines of people is fucking amazing.

We did this for a few hours and upon my return home I promptly sold my underused Surly Crosscheck and ordered a KHS Flite 100. I am totally hooked.

I bought a temporary membership at Forest City, and Bloomer Park in Rochester has an outdoor velodrome. Bloomer is only a few miles from my home, so my plan as of now is to ride Forest City through the winter and then get a membership to the Bloomer velodrome during the summer. I plan to race a little as back up to my planned endurance mountain bike racing. It should be a great way to mix things up during the season to keep things fresh.

As for the rest of the off season I plan to ride outdoors as much as possible. I’m also visiting the roller rink a couple times a week and skating with some of the more experienced folks. It’s a fun way to get some exercise in and work out different muscle groups in my legs and core. I plan to do some weight training as well and, when the weather breaks, get out for some very, very long rides. This year is all about 12 hour solo races with plans for longer races in the coming years. I can’t wait.

FAQ

Now that you own a fixie, are you going to start drinking PBR?

No.

Are you going to roll your pants up all the time?

No.

Are you going to put short little bars and take it off sweet jumps?

No.

Are you going to ride it to the bar?

Maybe.

Do you feel elite?

Yes.

I did my first cyclocross race at the 2nd day of the Tailwind Michigan Double Cross. I got there way early and nervously signed up. My mind was all atwitter about barriers, that big ass orange crush stair ramp thing, run ups, all the new stuff I didn’t know about. I waited for my friend Jeff to show up so I could follow him around the course like a scared little duckling and follow his every move.

We suited up, numbered up, and warmed up. My shoulders and neck had been extremely sore and tight that week so that added to my flabby nerves of anti-steel. We did three laps and I realized some important things during the warm-up: barriers are easy, the orange crush is easy, and cyclocross as a whole is hard. I was excited to start!

I lined up with the 39 and under C group. I hopped right up front so I could get in the mix right away and see what it was like. They blew the whistle and I settled in to roughly 8th place, about mid-pack. The pace was high but not yet lung busting.

The first lap went great. The lead group gapped me but I cleaned the lap without issues. I was told after the race that my transitions were super smooth, which made me happy. I have some work to do on remounts but my dismounts and run-ups/hop-overs were easy and clean. I dig it! During this race I left my compact road rings up front, 50/34. I left it in the 34 but really felt the need for lower gearing. I can see how a 1×9 setup would be very useful in this type of race. I like dirt road randonneuring too much to drop the versatility of a double chainring setup, however.

My second lap had me zoning out. At one point I ran through some tape and had to back up. I lost at least one spot which I made up later in the race. THAT felt good. I really enjoyed the technical nature of this style of racing. While I have been steering away from shorter cross country mountain bike racing, this style of sprint/balls out for 30 minutes was very rewarding. It was fun, interesting and the spectators are very motivating. It was a blast. The 30 minutes FLEW by. It really is a sufferfest, but Jeff put it best: you can do anything for 30 minutes. Afterward I didn’t quite puke but I did heave a couple of times. Success. I can’t wait to do my next race.

I finished where I started, 8th out of 15. Mid-pack. I’ll take it!

This year is different, folks. This year I actually AM trying CX. I tried it last night! True story! And you know what? I loved it. It hurt and I wanted to puke over and over again but I loved it all the same. In that way it’s like Taco Bell, just without continuing the pukey feeling after the activity has taken place.

I jumped on the chance to pick up a nice, used CX bike, a Redline Conquest Pro. This is the bike set up all roadie like:

It’s so pretty! This is the 2nd aluminum road bike I have owned, and I can now say that I like the stiffness. Don’t be dirty, you know what I mean.

My previous road bike was a true roadie. Tight clearances and all that. I’m loving the CX geometry with the stiffness of a nice road bike. It flies, and I just think and it does what I want it to do. My cadence is improving and I’m having a blast huckin’ around on the 32c WTB Pathways. A nice, hefty tire for dirt roads and pavement.

So back to last night, my first true CX experience. Nothing crazy, nothing outta sight, but a nice little practice session with some teammates. We got a quick rundown on mounting/dismounting and set up a small course to practice on. We set out to do 10 laps. I thought my friggin’ cardiovascular system was going to explode and blow a hole through my lower back (NAME THAT VAGUE MOVIE REFERENCE). It was great! This is the aforementioned steed set up for solid CXness:

It’s so pretty!!! It handled great. My dismounts went pretty well with only a few bobbles. My mounts took some time to get the hang of. I kept looking at my saddle and over judging the hop, sometimes hopping way too high. One time I swung my left leg back and my foot got caught in the rear wheel. My newb card was shipped immediately.

I see myself setting up a tiny CX course in my yard and practicing as my neighbors look on in disgust. I will be wrapped – so sweetly and completely – in my spandex of choice, hopping on and off my bike, riding through my brown shit-stain of a yard. Sounds like heaven!

I went into this race with a mileage goal: 100+. I’d gotten 100 at Lumberjack, and figured I could repeat and then some. Two years ago I did this race as a 4-person relay, which distorted my memory of the trail. The trail was easy that day. Two laps on for 45ish minutes. When you’re doing 2-3 laps on for 10+ hours, it beats you to hell.

As I lined up I scoped the one other dude in my class. After my first lap I mentioned to my teammate, “He looks fast, but who knows, maybe it’s his first endurance race.” As the day went on, this fantasy was stabbed repeatedly until death. By hour 3 he had lapped me once. By hour 5 he had lapped me twice. He would proceed to lap me ELEVEN TIMES (I spelled that out so I could capitalize it) throughout the day.

As I sat down before my last two planned laps, I was informed that the laps were not 5.5 miles each but 4.7 miles each. Some quick cell phone mathery brought me to reality: I only had 81 miles thus far. I would have to do 4 more laps, in the dark, to meet 100 miles let alone 110. I decided 18 laps was good enough and snuggled up to a beer and a hot shower.

I had one major mechanical throughout the day. My rear tubeless tire was leaking, so I put a tube in to last the day. I must have pinched it between the bead and the rim because toward the end of a lap it went BANG. When one flats, one hopes for PHTSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS. Bangs are no good. Lo and behold, I had blown out the sidewall. My teammate Scott hooked me up big time with his whole rear wheel to finish the day. I owe him!

Throughout the season I’ve been doing a lot of work on my “self”, that is to say a lot of emotional and spiritual growth. Races like these really help solidify the practices I’m trying to perfect. Being able to do lap after lap and concentrate only on that lap, to stay as present and in the moment as possible, is something I haven’t quite mastered but I’m working on it diligently. It has made an immense difference in my spirit and ability to have fun during a race. I don’t need to care about how it will end, that’s not the point for me. Each lap is another XX minutes on the bicycle. That’s all that matters.

Finishing the race is a great achievement. I’m very happy about that, but there are more important things to address. First, here are the specs: Finished 148th out of roughly 200 in my class in 11:35. I had an uncomfortable run-in with an inflamed urinary tract (gross!) which almost put me out of the race after lap 2. I man*d up, and finished, and I’m damn happy I did. My nutrition plan worked flawlessly, minus a bonk at the very end after giving away my emergency food to a teammate. Lesson learned: keep emergency food until all chances of possible emergency are gone. Derp!

I’m pretty ecstatic that I finished. However, what I learned in the process of training and completing this race are really  more important than the finish. I’ve now been racing for almost 3 years. Not long, but I’ve experienced a wide range of races – from short time trials to a 100 mile ultra-endurance race. What I’ve discovered is that I haven’t always raced just because it’s fun. In hindsight, I started this stuff to try and prove something. If I place a certain way or finish a certain race, it says something about me. It validates some characteristic I want to see in myself. It “proves” that I’m not overweight, that I’m an athlete, that I’m worth something.

During the process of training I went through a very serious but also very cleansing life change:  a divorce. It was very quick and amicable. I could have sunk myself into some facet of my life like training, work, nightlife or some other distraction. Something to mask pain that is inevitable with what most perceive as failure. Instead, I got help immediately in the form of a life coach, and started working on why I felt the way I did and how to deal with it. This helped not only with the divorce, but with every single aspect of my life. I see everything differently, including racing.

I’m happy I finished Lumberjack for many reasons. I wont pretend that part of that happiness isn’t related to how others perceive this feat. That wont change overnight. But what’s really exciting is the experience and the knowledge that I am strong enough to experience it again. Riding my bike all day, literally. Being immersed in exceptional forestry over the span of several hours. Seeing the light change over the course of a day, and seeing how the light changes the mood of the trail. Stopping on my last lap just to look at the pine trees and listen to the wind move through them. Practicing presence, working through hardships and experiencing emotions that range from, “I’m not going to finish, what does that mean,” to, “Holy shit, I’m going to finish! What does that mean?”

I don’t experience these things during a time trial or cross country race where my heart rate is through the roof. What’s the purpose of these races, if not to try and place well? If I place well, what does that mean? Why is that important? Is it important at all? These are the questions I have asked and answered for myself over the course of training for and finishing the Lumberjack 100.

So I’ve rearranged my racing schedule to allow for more 12 hour races, epics and centuries. I have a few small races still on the calendar like the most awesome Tree Farm Relay. Narrowing down what racing means to me and what style of racing remains fun and provides the most joy feels very positive. It’s a small change in a large life experience, but it’s something I love dearly.

The next race on the schedule is the 12 hours of Ithaca. The Jailhouse Trail in Ithaca, MI is a short, fast, fun little loop. I’m hoping to push a little farther than 100 miles during the race. It’ll be my first 12 hour solo attempt with night laps. Night training is fun. :)

Last year I only completed two of the four laps, which was 50 miles. A lot of things went into that bailout of which I have a much better understanding. Here, let me show them to you:

1. Nutrition – Last year I bonked. Hard. The hardest bonk I’ve ever been bonked with in my short history of bonking. Blood sugar issues run in my family, and while I’ve never been diagnosed with a clear problem, I’ve always struggled with mood and sanity when presented with hunger. Bonking is scary as-is, but bonking for me seems to send me to a very dark, desolate place. Maybe it’s that way for everyone. In hindsight, once I ate a lot of food and drank some beer I could have pulled off a 3rd lap. But again, bonking is scary. So I didn’t do that. This year I focussed heavily on my body and what it needs to survive over 12 hours of riding. Eat, a lot, constantly. Eat every hour no matter what. Drink a bottle an hour, no matter what. Eat more than you think you need. Eat what your body can process. These are my mantras, and goddamnit they’re working.

2. Fitness – I took up a training plan this year. One of my main goals was to finish Lumberjack, which I can safely say 4 days out looks to be quite possible. I’ve often half-believed in jinxing and usually don’t declare victory early. However, I now believe in the power of positive thinking. I will finish.

3. Mental Stamina – It takes some balls to ride a bike around a tough course for 10-12 hours (Guess how long I hope it takes me. Go on, guess!). Ultimately you end up alone for long stretches. Potentially hours at a time. For the second year in a row I hit a wall about two weeks out from the race. This is the time when you’re training for 6-10 hours on the bike every weekend, usually all in one day. It gets lonely and the mind starts coming up with reasons to quit. So, I’ve developed another strategy: stay present. Stay in the moment, one pedal stroke at a time, one mile at a time, one lap at a time. Who gives a shit about the other laps. They haven’t happened yet, so why worry about them. Now is what’s important, and right now I’m having a blast!

So far this year I have logged almost 1,800 miles since January. I have my nutrition plan locked down. I got my mind straight. Boom, hot dog. Lets go racin’.

This should be self explanatory, but it isn’t, so I’ll elaborate with a little story.

Today I was partaking in my Intensity!™ training ride in the basement. I had the CTS video “Cycling for Power” on. Being that this is my only video, I know it like I know what makes me want to throw up. This would be helpful in my situation, but remember this is Intensity!™, and therefore my brain is deprived of oxygen.

I had completed the power interval ladder and was halfway through the second half, steady-state/power interval… er, intervals. I’m recovering, I’m feeling good about the second interval which consists of a three minute steady state and two minute power interval. To clarify, by “feeling good” I mean “I don’t want to kill myself”. I’m prepping emotionally for the three minute steady state, and so it begins.

Coach Jason is our coach for this hour long hurt fest, and I’ve come to both love and hate Jason. I know exactly what he’s going to say. It’s as if we’re linked like those giant blue bastards in Avatar. Jason says jump, and I weep softly as I do so.

As I’m settling in to the three minute steady-state interval, I hear my beloved Jason say the words “power interval”. I’m all like, “wha?” and look up, to see the words “power interval” and a two minute timer. Again, I’ve done this video more times than I have toes and fingers on which to count. I should know where the hell I am, but obviously I am not clear on what Coach Jason wants of me. So I gear up and do the power interval. This is where shit gets trippy.

My oxygen deprived brain started to attempt to put it all together: “I could have sworn I was on steady-state! Maybe not. Wait… did I black out? Did I black out and miss the steady-state?? How is that possible? How am I still on the bike? Is Coach Jason Jesus? He kinda looks like Jesus. His hair isn’t long enough. He’s counting down. Rapture? No, recovery. Good. ‘Three… two… one…’, recover! Thank the Lord, Coach Jason!”

As I start to recover, and oxygen gets re-introduced into my starving brain, I glance at the clock. Coach Jason has taken me back in time! I know, KNOW, that I was 10 minutes ahead of this. What the hell is he doing? And then it hits me… the remote. I fast forward to where I was previously and finished the video.

I know what you’re thinking, “You’re a dumbass.” This is true, however, my point is still valid. Having the remote in your jersey pocket facing up and likely toward the television as you’re hunched over in power interval hell is dangerous to your sanity.

You can thank me later.

(via Wikipedia)

See how I emphasized “gluteal muscles” up there? That’s not just ’cause it means butt (heh), it’s ’cause MY GLUTEAL MUSCLES FEEL LIKE THEY’RE GOING TO FALL OFF. Those other muscles hurt, too. In a good way.

After week 2 of training (week 1 of the hardcore stuff), I am already seeing results. I am slimming down a little bit at a time, however I’m not losing much weight yet. That’s to be expected. I haven’t altered my diet that much.

Trainer time is hard, especially the two hour moderate rides. Staying stationary and riding for that long is a true test of my mental ability to stay stationary and ride for that long. It’s brutal, and the time passes so very slowly after about an hour.

I’m learning a lot about how my body works. Training with a heart rate monitor allows me to see what it means to be warmed up, what happens when I push myself with intervals, and how controlling one’s heart rate is very difficult. I’m learning what I need to do to get my heart rate to where it needs to be, and how hard I have and have not been working in the past.

Winter is almost in full swing. Continuing this routine will be good, and it will be challenging. I look forward to the tears.

• Self supported tour from my front door to Ipperwash Beach, Ontario. 98 of the hottest miles I’ve ever ridden.
• Tree Farm Relay – Our team took 10th, and I experienced intoxication and hangover in a span of about 6 hours.
• Stony 6 hour endurance race – My boy Brian and I took 2nd. Brian is strong like bull.
• Addison Oaks Chapter Benefit – I crashed. There was blood. Hurty blood.
• Iceman Cometh – placed just out of the top 3rd out of 100 Sport/Expert Clydesdales. This renewed my interest in racing.

Early in the season I burned out. I started training for Lumberjack too late, and after I quit halfway through my drive to compete was drowned out. I continued to ride a lot and accomplish some things that I am very proud of, but I didn’t race much. I just squeeked by with 6 races (I am required to complete 5), and with the handful of organized rides I did on the side I had a decent season.

My drive to compete started to renew itself after the 6 hours of Stony Creek endurance race. I had a blast and remembered what it felt like to do well. After that, I decided to train fairly hard for Iceman. I started going hill repeats and longer rides, and a little bit of core work. I ended up shaving 12 minutes off my previous time and felt great doing so. I finished the race with the feeling that I wanted to race more. There’s only one problem: the season is over.

OK, OK, the season’s not over over. There’s still plenty of riding to be done, and if I really wanted to compete I could race cyclocross. But I don’t want to race cyclocross. So there.

I decided to take two weeks “off” and eat like a total jerk before starting at 12 month training program from my sponsor shop, Cycle to Fitness. I will meet with the shop owner once a month for 12 months, each month taking on a new series of training regimens and goals. I started out by filling in some info on goals I have for the next year, the next 5 years, and in the very long term. Daniel (the shop owner) will use this info to build a program that meets the short- and long-term goals.

I feel I need this type of motivation. He provides me with a schedule that I can manage, and I have no reason to back out. I’ve known for 4 days that I have to ride for 2 hours on the trainer tonight. So if I don’t, I have no excuse. I’ve planned for it, it’s in my mind and in my calendar.

This is what I like about this program and what I’m looking forward to. I love to ride, but sometimes the stress of trying to figure out when to squeeze the rides in gets to me. This program allows me to plan ahead and say, “I need to do this, it’s important.” Not only to myself, but to my (extremely supportive) family.

So, I will document the process here. It will be interesting to look back and see how I felt about it starting out as Daniel continues to smash my will to live.