Here's the forecast for where I'm headed:
...which may imply shoveling.
Happy holidays, readers...
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Heading: North
Time to check out for a week.
Here's the forecast for where I'm headed:
...which may imply shoveling.
Happy holidays, readers...
Here's the forecast for where I'm headed:
...which may imply shoveling.
Happy holidays, readers...
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Reportage
The short, punchy version:
Men's B race: crappy. Singlespeed A race: happy.
Gory details:
Got one practice lap in for the CCCX #6 Men's B race at the Fort Ord day camp, then off we went at 10am. I found myself mixing it up with Dave P. and others like last week, a good sign. However, I found some aggro passing maneouvres from the 35+B leaders coming up from behind a tad offputting and I got gapped from my group, and then the real fun started when my chain started sucking and wedging into the spaces between my frame, crank, and chainrings, causing major delay. A soft slideout on a sharp right turn and a stupid encounter with a pole that resulted in complete dismount didn't help either. I ended up softpedaling through my sporadic and persistent mechanical difficulties, having dark thoughts of "If I can't enjoy this, does that mean I never have any fun?", and got lapped by the end. Bah, humbug! In after-race cleanup this evening, I found that a couple of links in my chain are now twisted--that takes some serious torque. I hope there's a new chain in my Xmas stocking this year...
It sucked, but I had plenty left in my legs and decided to stay for the singlespeed race. The in-between time was good, with a couple sandwiches for refueling, chatting with the friendly folks and their friendly dogs, and good racing to watch in the master A's and women's races.
With spirits restored, I took off with the men's A and singlespeed A fields for a shot at redemption. The course featured an infamous, nagging climb to start that would sap strength on every lap, leaving my legs wobbly for the barriers at the top. Some downhill singletrack followed for recovery, which got more and more fun as I figured out lines around the washboard. It bottomed out at a sharp gully followed by a single barrier that many could bunnyhop, but us earthbound-types had to run it for 20 yards or so. Twistys through the woods followed, interspersed with a long, paved out-and-back and three logs to cross (hoppable for the able, more forced dismounts for we, the unable). Grassy lumps and a final set of barriers led back to the start line. My major concern wasn't the course so much as my hands: after democratically crashing on both sides in the B race and cooling down, my bruised palms made it painful to hold onto the handlebars.
After the first lap, I found myself in pitched battle with Geoff W., also racing singlespeed as a second race. I had the gearing and go to get up the hill; he had mad bunnyhopping skills. Seriously, I was wondering if he had hydraulics tucked into his frame somewhere. I'd be running past the single barrier, hear a slight thud of wheels landing behind me, and then whoosh there would go his damn green skinsuit ahead of me as I was fumbling with remounting. Damn him! It was then half a lap of grunting to keep up before reaching the hill again and pulling ahead for the descent, only to get passed again at the barrier...
For once, though, I had the last laugh. After 4-5 laps, I reached the top ahead of him, descended, dismounted and ran, and entirely expected to have him pass me again...but no! A look behind showed naught but an empty trail! As Geoff put it afterwards, he experienced "vapor lock" after going hard for 1.5 races. Now, Geoff's a good guy with a wife and kid and all, but it does feel sorta good to have put that kind of hurt on someone else.
Cruising along, I wasn't noticing any hand pain (mmm, adrenaline), and I managed to catch Gianni C. later on. Ron escaped my clutches--I had inklings that I was catching up, but he was taking it easy before dropping the hammer for the last couple laps and he beat me by a comfy margin. Finish: 5th, out of a dozen or so, and I see no shame in having Cesar C., Scott C., and Tim C. ahead of me (note to self: must get last name starting with C). Speaking of dropping the hammer, the report from the A race is that Aaron Odell was ahead for most of the men's race before putting in some serious time and distance into the rest of the field over the last couple of laps--and he blessedly lapped me to end the pain. 2nd place in the A's went to a young fellow, Eric E., who looks to be an ass-kicking mountain bike rider.
In review: in the end, I had fun. I find it ironic that the last time I raced the singlespeed, it was having mechanical issues (I tore the brake lever loose mid-race), making the geared bike feel like a rock of dependability. The chain going to crap probably has root in me not cleaning it last week: leftover goo led to the chainsuck, chainsuck led to wedging 'twixt chainring and crank, and a little torque and mashing led to twisted metal. And I don't think my derailleurs are the happiest of mechanical beasts right now. I'll try to be a good boy and fix it all...
And to put things in perspective, I had a heck of a better day than the defending US Men's cyclocross champion, who got coldcocked in a bizzare accident in the championship race today...
OK, time to finish the frickin' Christmas cards, ho ho ho...
Men's B race: crappy. Singlespeed A race: happy.
Gory details:
Got one practice lap in for the CCCX #6 Men's B race at the Fort Ord day camp, then off we went at 10am. I found myself mixing it up with Dave P. and others like last week, a good sign. However, I found some aggro passing maneouvres from the 35+B leaders coming up from behind a tad offputting and I got gapped from my group, and then the real fun started when my chain started sucking and wedging into the spaces between my frame, crank, and chainrings, causing major delay. A soft slideout on a sharp right turn and a stupid encounter with a pole that resulted in complete dismount didn't help either. I ended up softpedaling through my sporadic and persistent mechanical difficulties, having dark thoughts of "If I can't enjoy this, does that mean I never have any fun?", and got lapped by the end. Bah, humbug! In after-race cleanup this evening, I found that a couple of links in my chain are now twisted--that takes some serious torque. I hope there's a new chain in my Xmas stocking this year...
It sucked, but I had plenty left in my legs and decided to stay for the singlespeed race. The in-between time was good, with a couple sandwiches for refueling, chatting with the friendly folks and their friendly dogs, and good racing to watch in the master A's and women's races.
With spirits restored, I took off with the men's A and singlespeed A fields for a shot at redemption. The course featured an infamous, nagging climb to start that would sap strength on every lap, leaving my legs wobbly for the barriers at the top. Some downhill singletrack followed for recovery, which got more and more fun as I figured out lines around the washboard. It bottomed out at a sharp gully followed by a single barrier that many could bunnyhop, but us earthbound-types had to run it for 20 yards or so. Twistys through the woods followed, interspersed with a long, paved out-and-back and three logs to cross (hoppable for the able, more forced dismounts for we, the unable). Grassy lumps and a final set of barriers led back to the start line. My major concern wasn't the course so much as my hands: after democratically crashing on both sides in the B race and cooling down, my bruised palms made it painful to hold onto the handlebars.
After the first lap, I found myself in pitched battle with Geoff W., also racing singlespeed as a second race. I had the gearing and go to get up the hill; he had mad bunnyhopping skills. Seriously, I was wondering if he had hydraulics tucked into his frame somewhere. I'd be running past the single barrier, hear a slight thud of wheels landing behind me, and then whoosh there would go his damn green skinsuit ahead of me as I was fumbling with remounting. Damn him! It was then half a lap of grunting to keep up before reaching the hill again and pulling ahead for the descent, only to get passed again at the barrier...
For once, though, I had the last laugh. After 4-5 laps, I reached the top ahead of him, descended, dismounted and ran, and entirely expected to have him pass me again...but no! A look behind showed naught but an empty trail! As Geoff put it afterwards, he experienced "vapor lock" after going hard for 1.5 races. Now, Geoff's a good guy with a wife and kid and all, but it does feel sorta good to have put that kind of hurt on someone else.
Cruising along, I wasn't noticing any hand pain (mmm, adrenaline), and I managed to catch Gianni C. later on. Ron escaped my clutches--I had inklings that I was catching up, but he was taking it easy before dropping the hammer for the last couple laps and he beat me by a comfy margin. Finish: 5th, out of a dozen or so, and I see no shame in having Cesar C., Scott C., and Tim C. ahead of me (note to self: must get last name starting with C). Speaking of dropping the hammer, the report from the A race is that Aaron Odell was ahead for most of the men's race before putting in some serious time and distance into the rest of the field over the last couple of laps--and he blessedly lapped me to end the pain. 2nd place in the A's went to a young fellow, Eric E., who looks to be an ass-kicking mountain bike rider.
In review: in the end, I had fun. I find it ironic that the last time I raced the singlespeed, it was having mechanical issues (I tore the brake lever loose mid-race), making the geared bike feel like a rock of dependability. The chain going to crap probably has root in me not cleaning it last week: leftover goo led to the chainsuck, chainsuck led to wedging 'twixt chainring and crank, and a little torque and mashing led to twisted metal. And I don't think my derailleurs are the happiest of mechanical beasts right now. I'll try to be a good boy and fix it all...
And to put things in perspective, I had a heck of a better day than the defending US Men's cyclocross champion, who got coldcocked in a bizzare accident in the championship race today...
OK, time to finish the frickin' Christmas cards, ho ho ho...
Monday, December 10, 2007
This is not how I spent Monday
...in a way a good thing, 'cuz I would've broken something trying...hmm, day jobs...
Sunday, December 9, 2007
'Cross at Coyote Point
The beautiful thing about racing bikes at Coyote Point is that whenever you get bored, you can just look over and watch the planes land at SFO.
Given how well my race went at GGP a couple weeks ago, I tried to duplicate my race prep: arriving pretty early to pre-ride before the 35A/45A race in street clothes, then another lap and a half before the Open A race in race get-up. I then tried to find a warm-up loop, but the Polo Grounds in GGP have nothing to fear from the sketchy industrial park I found today. Still, the legs felt a lot better than they did last week, so things seemed good to go.
And boy, the Open B race started with a bang. The start was the same as in the past, with a 300yd straight on the pavement leading to uphill pavement leading to a hard right onto the dirt. I had spotted a stump on that transition corner in warm-up and thought it would mess things up, and felt vindicated when some fellow in blue (found out later it was Kea H.) went sliding off of it to block the right side of the course while I could swoop by on the left (yes!). The dusty climb up wasn't over yet, though, and before it was over I was running with the bike with my chain dropped and I'm pretty sure my front tire had roughed up someone else's rear end...and I'm not talking about his bike...
Things didn't improve through the remainder of the windy path laid out through the "Enchanted Forest" as fast straights and slow corners made for complicated forward progress. On the bright side, I seemed to be carrying a lot more speed into corners than the guys I was trying to get past. By the end of the race, that may not have been a good idea, as my corners were definitely getting sloppier, but hey, there's something there to work with.
Exiting the Forest, riders then had the gravelly sand of the beach to deal with. The first time through I ran it and lost no time. The following times through, I rode it, but it was ugly. My stupid dumb bike pride wanted to ride it every time, but I really should have been running it.
Eventually I settled into a back-and-forth, leg-burning, saddle-swinging, snot-blowing battle with Dave P. from the Altezza 40 Horde. He could outspeed me on the pavement, and I would come back on the dirt. I think. DP's a pretty respectable racer so it felt good to be sort of on par with him. At the same time, I couldn't drop him, and at every corner I could hear his tires rolling behind me, and his fans' cheers weren't letting me forget he was right there...
The rubber band snapped on the last lap: coming down the washboarded trail out of the Forest, with my arms and shoulders getting tired and my cornering getting sloppy, I lost it and crashed. No harm done really, but there's always a bit of shock and my chain was doing twisty things around my chain rings, and just my luck, nine guys were right there ready to pass me. I swung back on and managed to catch one of 'em, but there was no catching the rest. As a reference, Dave P. ended up in 13th; I got 21st out of 43.
It was fun. A wide-open course, a really mixed bag of terrain (they should try wood chips on the European courses), a little bit of star-gazing as Barry Wicks showed up to play in the dirt, and the bittersweet satisfaction of finishing the Pilarcitos series (with free socks as door prize for the 5/5 racers). The 'cross racers were, as usual, super-duper fun; heck, even the mechanics were fun. There is a tinge of regret, though, 'cuz I think I wasn't riding smart today. Riding the beach when going in running would've been faster; a rise that I was riding in the wrong gear; sloppy corners...
Bah, I was racing. Now I need to find a way to force myself to practice the snot-blowing effort that racing requires.
Given how well my race went at GGP a couple weeks ago, I tried to duplicate my race prep: arriving pretty early to pre-ride before the 35A/45A race in street clothes, then another lap and a half before the Open A race in race get-up. I then tried to find a warm-up loop, but the Polo Grounds in GGP have nothing to fear from the sketchy industrial park I found today. Still, the legs felt a lot better than they did last week, so things seemed good to go.
And boy, the Open B race started with a bang. The start was the same as in the past, with a 300yd straight on the pavement leading to uphill pavement leading to a hard right onto the dirt. I had spotted a stump on that transition corner in warm-up and thought it would mess things up, and felt vindicated when some fellow in blue (found out later it was Kea H.) went sliding off of it to block the right side of the course while I could swoop by on the left (yes!). The dusty climb up wasn't over yet, though, and before it was over I was running with the bike with my chain dropped and I'm pretty sure my front tire had roughed up someone else's rear end...and I'm not talking about his bike...
Things didn't improve through the remainder of the windy path laid out through the "Enchanted Forest" as fast straights and slow corners made for complicated forward progress. On the bright side, I seemed to be carrying a lot more speed into corners than the guys I was trying to get past. By the end of the race, that may not have been a good idea, as my corners were definitely getting sloppier, but hey, there's something there to work with.
Exiting the Forest, riders then had the gravelly sand of the beach to deal with. The first time through I ran it and lost no time. The following times through, I rode it, but it was ugly. My stupid dumb bike pride wanted to ride it every time, but I really should have been running it.
Eventually I settled into a back-and-forth, leg-burning, saddle-swinging, snot-blowing battle with Dave P. from the Altezza 40 Horde. He could outspeed me on the pavement, and I would come back on the dirt. I think. DP's a pretty respectable racer so it felt good to be sort of on par with him. At the same time, I couldn't drop him, and at every corner I could hear his tires rolling behind me, and his fans' cheers weren't letting me forget he was right there...
The rubber band snapped on the last lap: coming down the washboarded trail out of the Forest, with my arms and shoulders getting tired and my cornering getting sloppy, I lost it and crashed. No harm done really, but there's always a bit of shock and my chain was doing twisty things around my chain rings, and just my luck, nine guys were right there ready to pass me. I swung back on and managed to catch one of 'em, but there was no catching the rest. As a reference, Dave P. ended up in 13th; I got 21st out of 43.
It was fun. A wide-open course, a really mixed bag of terrain (they should try wood chips on the European courses), a little bit of star-gazing as Barry Wicks showed up to play in the dirt, and the bittersweet satisfaction of finishing the Pilarcitos series (with free socks as door prize for the 5/5 racers). The 'cross racers were, as usual, super-duper fun; heck, even the mechanics were fun. There is a tinge of regret, though, 'cuz I think I wasn't riding smart today. Riding the beach when going in running would've been faster; a rise that I was riding in the wrong gear; sloppy corners...
Bah, I was racing. Now I need to find a way to force myself to practice the snot-blowing effort that racing requires.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Canadian cuisine
I pulled out one of my mom's recipes for dinner this week: "California casserole". It definitely still qualifies as comfort food, though what Mom liked most was that she could stick in the oven before a soccer game/music lesson/other kid activity, come back 2 hours later, and take it straight out of the oven for dinner.
1 onion, peel and chop. 1 pepper (green or red), remove stem and seeds then chop. Mix in bowl with 1 pound ground beef, two 14oz cans of diced tomatoes, 1-2 cups grated cheddar. Salt and pepper to taste. Stir in 16oz of dry pasta (macaroni works well). Put mix into casserole dish, cover with foil, and bake for 1 h at 350F. Or 2 h, it'll be fine, though 325F might be better for the longer time. Remove from oven. Eat.
Using the same ingredients, you could make spaghetti with a nice meat sauce...but that would involve stirring sauce on the stovetop and boiling water and draining pasta. Far better to throw everything into one bowl, then into one casserole dish, and cook it once.
I'm not sure anyone here would call it "California casserole", mind you. As we (myself now included) know, only Midwesterners make casseroles. And it's hard to say what is exactly Californian about this casserole. But hey, comfort food is comfort food.
And comfort food was needed after bike commuting today. My timing can be really off: it's been beautiful fall weather up until, oh, Monday, but now, today, in the rain both ways, I make a point of riding my bike to work. At least (a) you always feel fast when you're riding at night, and (b) dinner was a ready-to-be-reheated plate of leftovers (casserole, of course).
1 onion, peel and chop. 1 pepper (green or red), remove stem and seeds then chop. Mix in bowl with 1 pound ground beef, two 14oz cans of diced tomatoes, 1-2 cups grated cheddar. Salt and pepper to taste. Stir in 16oz of dry pasta (macaroni works well). Put mix into casserole dish, cover with foil, and bake for 1 h at 350F. Or 2 h, it'll be fine, though 325F might be better for the longer time. Remove from oven. Eat.
Using the same ingredients, you could make spaghetti with a nice meat sauce...but that would involve stirring sauce on the stovetop and boiling water and draining pasta. Far better to throw everything into one bowl, then into one casserole dish, and cook it once.
I'm not sure anyone here would call it "California casserole", mind you. As we (myself now included) know, only Midwesterners make casseroles. And it's hard to say what is exactly Californian about this casserole. But hey, comfort food is comfort food.
And comfort food was needed after bike commuting today. My timing can be really off: it's been beautiful fall weather up until, oh, Monday, but now, today, in the rain both ways, I make a point of riding my bike to work. At least (a) you always feel fast when you're riding at night, and (b) dinner was a ready-to-be-reheated plate of leftovers (casserole, of course).
Sunday, December 2, 2007
And so it goes
All work and no play makes me a piss-poor cyclocross racer.
So I was a bit preoccupied with two full-day job interviews this past week, and hadn't had a shred of physical activity since a 20-minute jog Monday morning. Saturday afternoon, I finally changed out of the PJ's and went cruising along the creek trail for an hour...not very intense.
This morning, I get to Fort Ord for CCCX #5 with enough time to register and do a practice lap. About halfway through, I dismount to look back at a rough patch and see what's to be done--and my heart feels like it's going at 200 bpm. And I feel a bit nauseous. Yeah, body wasn't ready for any exertion.
I go off with the Men's B start at 10am. Within 20 seconds, I'm dropped by everybody by 50 yards. Things compress once we got offroad and I catch up, but by then the 35+ B wave is barking up my backside. Shortly thereafter my front wheel starts ticking; I stop and check and it's nothing; but now the 35+ B's are passing me, it's singletrack, uphill, and sandy, and there's no way I can jump back in without being a complete ass.
I never really got any faster from there, though I did spend a couple laps providing the leader of the 55+ wave with a nice draft. The sand was challenging in many corners, providing something of a California equivalent to the mud up in Portland today...but let's not try to match their rain and snow.
With no power in me, doing the singlespeed race was going to be a waste of time. I ate the sandwiches I had packed, volunteered to do some handups for xbunny, and decided to practice using my newer camera some during the Elite Men's race (a Rock Lobster festival, with the top 'Berries being out of town). The following is my first attempt at combining new camera, new computer, and Youtube, for anyone who missed today's CCCX race or just wants to relive some memories.
So I was a bit preoccupied with two full-day job interviews this past week, and hadn't had a shred of physical activity since a 20-minute jog Monday morning. Saturday afternoon, I finally changed out of the PJ's and went cruising along the creek trail for an hour...not very intense.
This morning, I get to Fort Ord for CCCX #5 with enough time to register and do a practice lap. About halfway through, I dismount to look back at a rough patch and see what's to be done--and my heart feels like it's going at 200 bpm. And I feel a bit nauseous. Yeah, body wasn't ready for any exertion.
I go off with the Men's B start at 10am. Within 20 seconds, I'm dropped by everybody by 50 yards. Things compress once we got offroad and I catch up, but by then the 35+ B wave is barking up my backside. Shortly thereafter my front wheel starts ticking; I stop and check and it's nothing; but now the 35+ B's are passing me, it's singletrack, uphill, and sandy, and there's no way I can jump back in without being a complete ass.
I never really got any faster from there, though I did spend a couple laps providing the leader of the 55+ wave with a nice draft. The sand was challenging in many corners, providing something of a California equivalent to the mud up in Portland today...but let's not try to match their rain and snow.
With no power in me, doing the singlespeed race was going to be a waste of time. I ate the sandwiches I had packed, volunteered to do some handups for xbunny, and decided to practice using my newer camera some during the Elite Men's race (a Rock Lobster festival, with the top 'Berries being out of town). The following is my first attempt at combining new camera, new computer, and Youtube, for anyone who missed today's CCCX race or just wants to relive some memories.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Discount Xmas shopping
Every room needs a TV. Stick this combo in the corner of the garage while you're working on the bike and watch TdF DVDs:
And friends in San Carlos have a free couch--free, as long as you can take it away. It's big. It's puffy. It doesn't smell or have nasty stains, I swear. Let the kids jump on it and don't worry.
And friends in San Carlos have a free couch--free, as long as you can take it away. It's big. It's puffy. It doesn't smell or have nasty stains, I swear. Let the kids jump on it and don't worry.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Do the math
One billion. 1,000,000,000.
Big number.
Let's see...60 seconds to the minute, 60 minutes to the hour, 24 hours to the day, 365.24 days to the year, makes 31,556,736 seconds per year. That means one billion seconds is about 31 years, 8 months, 8 days, 24 minutes, and 30 seconds (give or take). So, at some point this week, I will pass my billionth birthsecond.
Despite doing these endurance sport-like things, I am not blessed with the cardiovascular system to give me a resting heart rate of 28 or the like--y'know, the kind that confuse medical instruments expecting to find a pulse in a reasonable amount of time. My ticker usually clocks in at 65 bpm or so, it seems. So the poor blessed thing has contracted, most likely, at least a billion times.
Assuming a car engine revs at 2500 rpm when doing 60 mph (about right for my car), a billion revolutions would allow it to travel 400,000 miles/640,000 km.
Mind you, a billion atoms of uranium only weighs 0.0000000000004 grams, which is small even if you convert it from metric.
OK, I should probably return to preparing for an interview tomorrow...
Big number.
Let's see...60 seconds to the minute, 60 minutes to the hour, 24 hours to the day, 365.24 days to the year, makes 31,556,736 seconds per year. That means one billion seconds is about 31 years, 8 months, 8 days, 24 minutes, and 30 seconds (give or take). So, at some point this week, I will pass my billionth birthsecond.
Despite doing these endurance sport-like things, I am not blessed with the cardiovascular system to give me a resting heart rate of 28 or the like--y'know, the kind that confuse medical instruments expecting to find a pulse in a reasonable amount of time. My ticker usually clocks in at 65 bpm or so, it seems. So the poor blessed thing has contracted, most likely, at least a billion times.
Assuming a car engine revs at 2500 rpm when doing 60 mph (about right for my car), a billion revolutions would allow it to travel 400,000 miles/640,000 km.
Mind you, a billion atoms of uranium only weighs 0.0000000000004 grams, which is small even if you convert it from metric.
OK, I should probably return to preparing for an interview tomorrow...
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Racing in Golden Gate Park
Today's race went awfully well. I got to SF in plenty of time to wobble around the course on my bike in jeans and running shoes, enough to see that the layout was little changed from last year save the placement of one barrier. Lots of time to get changed, hydrate, eat lunch, and do some warmup laps on the track with Mr. Hole Shot from last week's race before the ~1pm start.
The Open B field seemed pretty big, especially compared to last week's field of 13. My sprint at the start was adequate, and left me pushed over to the right side on the first loose corner--a mixed blessing. It taught me that the right side was far firmer than the middle or left where I had ridden in practice. It also taught me that shortly thereafter, the right side turned into pillowy dust into which my front wheel seemed to sink endlessly. I had predicted before the race that someone would go tail over teakettle in that section at the start, of course hoping it wouldn't be me...Ah well, it was soft, and I was soon back up and on my way. Everyone else was flailing too, so I don't think I lost much time/distance.
The race then progressed into a steady series of catches. There were three long straightaways favoring, well, going fast, which many riders seemed to forget. A couple times I passed strings of riders drafting off some poor guy--drafting's great and all, but if you're drafting off someone who's going slow, you're not helping yourself. The barrier-rooty runup worked in my favor: other people dismounted way early while I found riding up to the barrier pretty manageable, I could power up the hill pushing the bike rather than shouldering, and then most of my remounts were clean. And the right-hand line in that one corner saved me all sorts of misery as I watched all sorts of riders sink their rims into the dust.
I remember looking up at the race timer after 4 laps and seeing 17 minutes and change. I totally expected to come around again and see a "2", indicating 2 laps to go. It said "3". Oof. Hey, more racing for my money.
Still, today, it was probably in my favor. The legs were turning over the big ring over the entire course, and I kept catching people as they slowly blew...I was following one Altezza rider for 2 laps at least, before pulling away on the start/finish straight. I was really surprised to see myself catching up to Kea, who's normally way ahead of me in the results (turned out he had fuzzed out on laps remaining and sprinted with 2 laps to go, emptying his tank). When I passed Josh in the last lap (he was leading a string of riders at the end of straightaway #2, at the rise where you passed the pit tent a second time) I knew I was having a good day. The goal after that pass was to ride clean to the finish, but I was getting tired and could've ridden a couple sections a lot smoother. So, when I turned onto the pavement and started trying to sprint, a couple guys from Josh's train had the chance to pull around and outdash me to the line.
Even getting nipped twice at the end, I had a great race. My legs felt good every lap, my accelerations were good, and mentally I felt I was a lot more interested in going fast than most of the guys I passed (why draft off a slower rider?). It'll be interesting to see how I actually did in the results--I expect it'll be a significant improvement from my, uh, 51st? at the last Pilarcitos race.
A nice twist at the end of the day was that Olaf announced that Lauren had won the raffle for all race entrants for a brand-new, custom cyclocross frame from Sycip. She and her man already purchased custom frames this year and I imagine they already have one of the most expansive collections of bicycles in the Bay Area, so we'll see what happens there...
(added 10 minutes later) It was all fun and games, but I was pretty sore afterwards. Just keep popping those ibuprofen...
And: I saw in the singlespeed race today that Tim C. was having an off day. Usually he's pushing the lead, and here he was sorta spinning along, not in last, but not near the front. I ran into him afterwards and it turns out he was riding with several separated ribs and general bruising. It seems that when descending the fire road after making a night deposit of some beverages for the Thanksgiving fest atop Kennedy, his front light cut out and he quite literally flew off the edge...forget about going slow, the man's probably lucky to be alive. I hope the beverages were worth it.
The Open B field seemed pretty big, especially compared to last week's field of 13. My sprint at the start was adequate, and left me pushed over to the right side on the first loose corner--a mixed blessing. It taught me that the right side was far firmer than the middle or left where I had ridden in practice. It also taught me that shortly thereafter, the right side turned into pillowy dust into which my front wheel seemed to sink endlessly. I had predicted before the race that someone would go tail over teakettle in that section at the start, of course hoping it wouldn't be me...Ah well, it was soft, and I was soon back up and on my way. Everyone else was flailing too, so I don't think I lost much time/distance.
The race then progressed into a steady series of catches. There were three long straightaways favoring, well, going fast, which many riders seemed to forget. A couple times I passed strings of riders drafting off some poor guy--drafting's great and all, but if you're drafting off someone who's going slow, you're not helping yourself. The barrier-rooty runup worked in my favor: other people dismounted way early while I found riding up to the barrier pretty manageable, I could power up the hill pushing the bike rather than shouldering, and then most of my remounts were clean. And the right-hand line in that one corner saved me all sorts of misery as I watched all sorts of riders sink their rims into the dust.
I remember looking up at the race timer after 4 laps and seeing 17 minutes and change. I totally expected to come around again and see a "2", indicating 2 laps to go. It said "3". Oof. Hey, more racing for my money.
Still, today, it was probably in my favor. The legs were turning over the big ring over the entire course, and I kept catching people as they slowly blew...I was following one Altezza rider for 2 laps at least, before pulling away on the start/finish straight. I was really surprised to see myself catching up to Kea, who's normally way ahead of me in the results (turned out he had fuzzed out on laps remaining and sprinted with 2 laps to go, emptying his tank). When I passed Josh in the last lap (he was leading a string of riders at the end of straightaway #2, at the rise where you passed the pit tent a second time) I knew I was having a good day. The goal after that pass was to ride clean to the finish, but I was getting tired and could've ridden a couple sections a lot smoother. So, when I turned onto the pavement and started trying to sprint, a couple guys from Josh's train had the chance to pull around and outdash me to the line.
Even getting nipped twice at the end, I had a great race. My legs felt good every lap, my accelerations were good, and mentally I felt I was a lot more interested in going fast than most of the guys I passed (why draft off a slower rider?). It'll be interesting to see how I actually did in the results--I expect it'll be a significant improvement from my, uh, 51st? at the last Pilarcitos race.
A nice twist at the end of the day was that Olaf announced that Lauren had won the raffle for all race entrants for a brand-new, custom cyclocross frame from Sycip. She and her man already purchased custom frames this year and I imagine they already have one of the most expansive collections of bicycles in the Bay Area, so we'll see what happens there...
(added 10 minutes later) It was all fun and games, but I was pretty sore afterwards. Just keep popping those ibuprofen...
And: I saw in the singlespeed race today that Tim C. was having an off day. Usually he's pushing the lead, and here he was sorta spinning along, not in last, but not near the front. I ran into him afterwards and it turns out he was riding with several separated ribs and general bruising. It seems that when descending the fire road after making a night deposit of some beverages for the Thanksgiving fest atop Kennedy, his front light cut out and he quite literally flew off the edge...forget about going slow, the man's probably lucky to be alive. I hope the beverages were worth it.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
RussellP does domesticity
1. Baking
The price of admission for Thanksgiving dinner this year: 2 pies.
All they need now will be a garnish of, oh, I don't know--bacon chocolate?
2. Laundry
Bike commuting exacerbates my lack of cycling kit--I don't have enough jerseys and shorts to get from one laundry day to the next without rewearing something. To avoid utter nastiness, I've been handwashing them. Problem is, without a dryer, I could only get so much water out by wringing, and it took forever for them to dry, risking moldiness--until I started using the salad spinner.
A few spins and the jerseys and shorts come out drier than I could ever get 'em just by squeezing. Now, some would suggest that it's easier to wrap the clothes in a towel, but (a) the spinner works just as well if not better and (b) it doesn't create a wet towel which will get moldy. I'm also sure that no one who reads this will ask me to make a salad.
Happy American Turkey Day!
The price of admission for Thanksgiving dinner this year: 2 pies.
All they need now will be a garnish of, oh, I don't know--bacon chocolate?
2. Laundry
Bike commuting exacerbates my lack of cycling kit--I don't have enough jerseys and shorts to get from one laundry day to the next without rewearing something. To avoid utter nastiness, I've been handwashing them. Problem is, without a dryer, I could only get so much water out by wringing, and it took forever for them to dry, risking moldiness--until I started using the salad spinner.
A few spins and the jerseys and shorts come out drier than I could ever get 'em just by squeezing. Now, some would suggest that it's easier to wrap the clothes in a towel, but (a) the spinner works just as well if not better and (b) it doesn't create a wet towel which will get moldy. I'm also sure that no one who reads this will ask me to make a salad.
Happy American Turkey Day!
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Homestyle 'cross
I haven't been terribly useful since getting home from today's cyclocross race, but in a good, warm, fuzzy, endorphin-induced way. But first, let's go back a bit...
Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, I did no physical activity whatsoever. It's great for reducing the laundry load, not so good as a training regimen. Work and finding work have been my preoccupations, and combined with a disinclination towards waking up early and severely curtailed evening daylight, rides and runs have not been happening. To compensate, when going to bed Friday night, I set myself to going on a long road ride on Saturday. I haven't been doing those in favor of either riding my 'cross bike on the trails to train, or just to "save my legs" for Sunday's races. After three days of inactivity and general deadleggedness on my bike commutes, a 60-mile ride seemed like a recipe for disaster.
It was fantastic. This was a beautiful November weekend, even for California: the sun was shining, the winds were calm. I hadn't been on the roads up to Woodside and Palo Alto in months, but they're still familiar. I kept looking down to find to my surprise that I was ticking over the big ring pretty much all the time, without strain. Around the Stanford campus, I ran into two friends from my masters swimming days for some chatting, then was on my way home. Without dehydrating, without bonking, without straining: 3 1/2 hrs continuous riding, 60 miles. It can be so relaxing to not have to worry about cavernous bumps underneath your wheels.
I was a bit scared to get up this morning to find out what my legs felt like--and things were a bit stiff, but maybe I'm just getting older. I did sleep in, but still had plenty of time to drive down to Watsonville for the race and get some practice in. I hadn't done a Peak Season race before, though I watched one race last year post-eye surgery and noticed the smaller, more local crowd. When I lined up for the B race, well, it was a field of 15, tops.
The course was fun. Swirly descending down to the lakeside, and a steep-but-rideable return; a nifty chicane; some nice singletrack; a good run-up on a log staircase; uphill and off-camber corners. Two negatives: first, the boardwalk/pier over the lake was gimmicky and sorta even dangerous, and I hope the course designers don't use it again; and second, oh, the bumpty bumps.
The race (Men B) was fun. Before the start, we were all anti-trash talking about how we all sucked, but there was some good racing goin' on. Self-Trasher #1 even got the hole shot, but when he looked around to see where everyone had gone, he sorta missed the first hairpin turn...He was up and bouncing, if a bit startled, by the time the field passed him, but more importantly, he had a glorious moment. After a lap or two, I was trying to catch two guys who kept 5-10 sec ahead of me: Red Jersey and Belgium Jersey. If the race had been a lap shorter, I may not have caught them, but with 2 to go, Red Jersey blew and fell back. On the last lap, I screwed up riding up from the lake, but was fresh/adrenaline-accelerated enough to sprint up the hill and keep the gas on. Good thing, because Belgium Jersey was soon ready to blow too--the bumps sucked out his soul. I wanted to be in front coming off the pavement into the last section of grassy turns (and bumps) because passing there would've been difficult, but Belgium let me by on the big swooping 180 on the back before the run up and didn't keep up. The race-within-the-race was mine! I have no idea of the bigger picture, but I ended up 5th out of 13 finishers. Top 1/2 of the field!
The singlespeeder was left at home today--and this course would've hurt on a SS--so I was free to eat and socialize and take pictures, in some beautiful fall sunshine. I was trying out a new digital camera, so I'm still unsure on best settings for action shots, and there's a noticeable soft-lens effect in most of the photos, hmmm. I had the most fun with the rapid-shoot feature. I'm sure professionals use something like it a lot, rather than try to guess exactly when the exciting moment will happen. I just like the sequence of events that you capture, for instance:
(My apologies if it's completely tasteless to post pictures of someone crashing--anyone objects, and it's gone. The guy was fine--I asked--and raced on.)
Anyway: why "homestyle" 'cross? Well, could be 'cuz it's Thanksgiving week, and everyone's feeling all family-like. I think having a field of only 13 racers makes you feel more a part of things compared to 70+. The sheer number of racers I could recognize and cheer for when my race was done. Having a barbeque with footlongs after the race. Soccer games in the background. Well done, Peak Season, and I'm looking forward to your next race.
Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, I did no physical activity whatsoever. It's great for reducing the laundry load, not so good as a training regimen. Work and finding work have been my preoccupations, and combined with a disinclination towards waking up early and severely curtailed evening daylight, rides and runs have not been happening. To compensate, when going to bed Friday night, I set myself to going on a long road ride on Saturday. I haven't been doing those in favor of either riding my 'cross bike on the trails to train, or just to "save my legs" for Sunday's races. After three days of inactivity and general deadleggedness on my bike commutes, a 60-mile ride seemed like a recipe for disaster.
It was fantastic. This was a beautiful November weekend, even for California: the sun was shining, the winds were calm. I hadn't been on the roads up to Woodside and Palo Alto in months, but they're still familiar. I kept looking down to find to my surprise that I was ticking over the big ring pretty much all the time, without strain. Around the Stanford campus, I ran into two friends from my masters swimming days for some chatting, then was on my way home. Without dehydrating, without bonking, without straining: 3 1/2 hrs continuous riding, 60 miles. It can be so relaxing to not have to worry about cavernous bumps underneath your wheels.
I was a bit scared to get up this morning to find out what my legs felt like--and things were a bit stiff, but maybe I'm just getting older. I did sleep in, but still had plenty of time to drive down to Watsonville for the race and get some practice in. I hadn't done a Peak Season race before, though I watched one race last year post-eye surgery and noticed the smaller, more local crowd. When I lined up for the B race, well, it was a field of 15, tops.
The course was fun. Swirly descending down to the lakeside, and a steep-but-rideable return; a nifty chicane; some nice singletrack; a good run-up on a log staircase; uphill and off-camber corners. Two negatives: first, the boardwalk/pier over the lake was gimmicky and sorta even dangerous, and I hope the course designers don't use it again; and second, oh, the bumpty bumps.
First I limp to the side like my leg was brokenI sorta doubt that anyone in Digital Underground ever raced 'cross, but there are some striking parallels. There were some looong transition sections over some very bumpy ground today, and not even a few hundred bike-crossings flattened them out. It's totally legit for 'cross, but wow, I was hankerin' for some suspension.
Shakin' and twitchin' kinda like I was smokin'
Crazy wack funky
People say ya look like M.C. Hammer on crack, [B]umpty
That's all right 'cause my body's in motion
It's supposed to look like a fit or a convulsion
Anyone can play this game
This is my dance, y'all, [B]umpty [B]ump's my name
No two people will do it the same
Ya got it down when ya appear to be in pain
[B]umpin', funkin', jumpin',
jig around, shakin' ya rump,
and when the dude a chump pump points a finger like a stump
tell him step off, I'm doin' the [B]ump.
The race (Men B) was fun. Before the start, we were all anti-trash talking about how we all sucked, but there was some good racing goin' on. Self-Trasher #1 even got the hole shot, but when he looked around to see where everyone had gone, he sorta missed the first hairpin turn...He was up and bouncing, if a bit startled, by the time the field passed him, but more importantly, he had a glorious moment. After a lap or two, I was trying to catch two guys who kept 5-10 sec ahead of me: Red Jersey and Belgium Jersey. If the race had been a lap shorter, I may not have caught them, but with 2 to go, Red Jersey blew and fell back. On the last lap, I screwed up riding up from the lake, but was fresh/adrenaline-accelerated enough to sprint up the hill and keep the gas on. Good thing, because Belgium Jersey was soon ready to blow too--the bumps sucked out his soul. I wanted to be in front coming off the pavement into the last section of grassy turns (and bumps) because passing there would've been difficult, but Belgium let me by on the big swooping 180 on the back before the run up and didn't keep up. The race-within-the-race was mine! I have no idea of the bigger picture, but I ended up 5th out of 13 finishers. Top 1/2 of the field!
The singlespeeder was left at home today--and this course would've hurt on a SS--so I was free to eat and socialize and take pictures, in some beautiful fall sunshine. I was trying out a new digital camera, so I'm still unsure on best settings for action shots, and there's a noticeable soft-lens effect in most of the photos, hmmm. I had the most fun with the rapid-shoot feature. I'm sure professionals use something like it a lot, rather than try to guess exactly when the exciting moment will happen. I just like the sequence of events that you capture, for instance:
(My apologies if it's completely tasteless to post pictures of someone crashing--anyone objects, and it's gone. The guy was fine--I asked--and raced on.)
Anyway: why "homestyle" 'cross? Well, could be 'cuz it's Thanksgiving week, and everyone's feeling all family-like. I think having a field of only 13 racers makes you feel more a part of things compared to 70+. The sheer number of racers I could recognize and cheer for when my race was done. Having a barbeque with footlongs after the race. Soccer games in the background. Well done, Peak Season, and I'm looking forward to your next race.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Ramblings
--Need a reasonable couch? Off-white, on the loosely puffy side, lightly embroidered pattern in the fabric. My friends want to sell theirs to make room for what sounds like an "installation". Never exposed to cigarettes, no nasty stains.
--Checked my back tire to see what exploded at the end of the B race on Sunday. A 2-inch gash in the tube matched a place where the tire bead had been shredded to where I could see the steel wire. It's hard to say what abuse I laidon to cause that kind of damage, but they're both gone.
Checked the wheel too, and it's maybe good that I did, since I found in a completely different, unrelated location on the rim that the weld is corroding and cracking. It's a 9-yr-old Campy Berlin rim (ever have one of those? didn't think so) on a 105 hub that was original spec on my road bike. It's mostly scrap metal now.
--With the change to standard time, bike commuting requires riding home in the dark. It's sorta nice in the dark: no matter how slow you're really going, you only really have the breeze on your face to gauge your speed, and you feel fast. There's also the practicality that if you're going to ride home in the dark anyway, you may as well work 'til 7 and wait for most of the cars to get off the road.
--Dinner: thyme-roasted eggplant with julienne carrots wrapped in warm garlic naan bread.
--Riding in the dark also makes me grateful for all the drivers who have passed me and not run into me over the years, which I'm happy to say is all of them so far. Reflective clothes, blinky light, a bright headlight, and a good route make it OK. Still, I was thinking on the ride tonight about all the things that could go wrong. Probably the #1 thing that makes me nervous on the road are drunk drivers--day or night, whether I'm riding or driving, it's so not cool. I have no idea my DUI/DWI is treated so casually in this country: it's a frickin' crime, and for good reason.
If you're going to have beers after a race, make sure someone else who's not drinking is going to drive you home. I'm asking, that's all.
--I may have gots me a phone interview, which is the first glimmer of a future I've had in a while.
--Checked my back tire to see what exploded at the end of the B race on Sunday. A 2-inch gash in the tube matched a place where the tire bead had been shredded to where I could see the steel wire. It's hard to say what abuse I laidon to cause that kind of damage, but they're both gone.
Checked the wheel too, and it's maybe good that I did, since I found in a completely different, unrelated location on the rim that the weld is corroding and cracking. It's a 9-yr-old Campy Berlin rim (ever have one of those? didn't think so) on a 105 hub that was original spec on my road bike. It's mostly scrap metal now.
--With the change to standard time, bike commuting requires riding home in the dark. It's sorta nice in the dark: no matter how slow you're really going, you only really have the breeze on your face to gauge your speed, and you feel fast. There's also the practicality that if you're going to ride home in the dark anyway, you may as well work 'til 7 and wait for most of the cars to get off the road.
--Dinner: thyme-roasted eggplant with julienne carrots wrapped in warm garlic naan bread.
--Riding in the dark also makes me grateful for all the drivers who have passed me and not run into me over the years, which I'm happy to say is all of them so far. Reflective clothes, blinky light, a bright headlight, and a good route make it OK. Still, I was thinking on the ride tonight about all the things that could go wrong. Probably the #1 thing that makes me nervous on the road are drunk drivers--day or night, whether I'm riding or driving, it's so not cool. I have no idea my DUI/DWI is treated so casually in this country: it's a frickin' crime, and for good reason.
If you're going to have beers after a race, make sure someone else who's not drinking is going to drive you home. I'm asking, that's all.
--I may have gots me a phone interview, which is the first glimmer of a future I've had in a while.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Return to Manzanita
There was a good ol' rain coming down last night, so I brougt enough raincoats and clothing changes to swim across the Atlantic...and it was sunny, gorgeous, beautiful, all day. Thank you, California.
Still, water had fallen from the sky, and not all of it could drain away before the 'cross races started. A 10am start for the B race should be easy enough to get to, but I still managed to sleep in and dawdle to the point where I hadn't time to pre-ride the course. It would've been a good thing: frankly, the mud freaked me out at first, and there were some changes from last time's course that left me wondering to the end of the day what the right lines were. On the bright side: no blood! It was also a little exciting when my rear tube exploded (bang!) right close to the end--hadn't done that before. I'm curious to find out what failed and how: that tire may have earned its pension.
The CCCX schedule also gives a very reasonable 2+ hours to recharge after the B race before trying out the singlespeed race. Had lunch al fresco (well, al back-of-carro), made meaningless tweaks to bike, and had just a wee bit of time to watch the women's race (Lloyd won speeding away, but I couldn't help wondering if/what Kerlin was holding back). My singlespeed start was atrocious even for my standards as I pushed off heading straight into some other guy's back wheel; in retrospect, I don't know which of us was swerving more, but it left me flailing at the back. In the 2 hr of sun and breeze between my races, the course had dried out to become mostly flat, tacky stuff--the good stuff--with the occasional mud puddle to liven things up. I caught a few wheels in the first 3-4 laps, then the gaps to the riders ahead of me started getting bigger...time for safety mode (still no blood!). I tried goading Jeff/Geoff from Altezza to make up the 5sec gap I had on him, but he was pretty blown too after the 35A's so I got to hold my ignominious spot in the results. Just good ol' fun.
Now I have a large Bag of Filth to deal with, thanks to the flying chunks of peanut butter and glop and ooze on the course that have sunk into jerseys, gloves, shorts, socks, shoes...Digging the stuff off my derailleur pulleys was a non-trivial task. I appear to be dealing with Bag of Filth for now by ignoring it.
Something very noticeable during the singlespeed race was how many bad lines had been cut into the corners. One person leads, another follows the wheel, and eventually a berm gets molded that is not where you (well, I) want it to be. Not only that, but all the dirt that got pushed out of the way mucks up the better line. Someone give the C's a tutorial on apexing, wouldja? (As if I know what I'm talking about.)
Downer about the double race is that socializing and photographing become well-nigh impossible, which makes for pretty dry reportage. I didn't even remember to ask Lauren to get an envelope for me when she's in Manila. Many thanks to Swiggco for storing my keys during the races, too.
Still, water had fallen from the sky, and not all of it could drain away before the 'cross races started. A 10am start for the B race should be easy enough to get to, but I still managed to sleep in and dawdle to the point where I hadn't time to pre-ride the course. It would've been a good thing: frankly, the mud freaked me out at first, and there were some changes from last time's course that left me wondering to the end of the day what the right lines were. On the bright side: no blood! It was also a little exciting when my rear tube exploded (bang!) right close to the end--hadn't done that before. I'm curious to find out what failed and how: that tire may have earned its pension.
The CCCX schedule also gives a very reasonable 2+ hours to recharge after the B race before trying out the singlespeed race. Had lunch al fresco (well, al back-of-carro), made meaningless tweaks to bike, and had just a wee bit of time to watch the women's race (Lloyd won speeding away, but I couldn't help wondering if/what Kerlin was holding back). My singlespeed start was atrocious even for my standards as I pushed off heading straight into some other guy's back wheel; in retrospect, I don't know which of us was swerving more, but it left me flailing at the back. In the 2 hr of sun and breeze between my races, the course had dried out to become mostly flat, tacky stuff--the good stuff--with the occasional mud puddle to liven things up. I caught a few wheels in the first 3-4 laps, then the gaps to the riders ahead of me started getting bigger...time for safety mode (still no blood!). I tried goading Jeff/Geoff from Altezza to make up the 5sec gap I had on him, but he was pretty blown too after the 35A's so I got to hold my ignominious spot in the results. Just good ol' fun.
Now I have a large Bag of Filth to deal with, thanks to the flying chunks of peanut butter and glop and ooze on the course that have sunk into jerseys, gloves, shorts, socks, shoes...Digging the stuff off my derailleur pulleys was a non-trivial task. I appear to be dealing with Bag of Filth for now by ignoring it.
Something very noticeable during the singlespeed race was how many bad lines had been cut into the corners. One person leads, another follows the wheel, and eventually a berm gets molded that is not where you (well, I) want it to be. Not only that, but all the dirt that got pushed out of the way mucks up the better line. Someone give the C's a tutorial on apexing, wouldja? (As if I know what I'm talking about.)
Downer about the double race is that socializing and photographing become well-nigh impossible, which makes for pretty dry reportage. I didn't even remember to ask Lauren to get an envelope for me when she's in Manila. Many thanks to Swiggco for storing my keys during the races, too.
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Skinny tire day
Just, like, ow.
Starting with warmup laps today, I so noticed the lack of suspension in my 'cross bikes after riding Big Green yesterday (see previous post): it was another lumpy bumpy dusty course, the type of surface that the full-suspension rig soaked right up while my 'cross bikes were letting me feel it a bit more directly, shall we say. At the same time, I can appreciate the comments from the shop guy who said he had tried 'cross after riding mountain bikes, and didn't do so well: suspension takes away a lot of decision-making that has to be done on a rigid frame.
It was so totally inappropriate for me to race singlespeed at today's McLaren Park CX race. I don't have the power-to-weight ratio to ride up steep stuff and haven't been running enough to compensate. In the cloud-with-silver-lining column, my brake hood came loose again (that'll get replaced now) forcing me to descend in the drops--and whaddya know, I had better control. The loose corners on the descent also reminded me how much better control I have when pedalling versus when coasting: delivering power, keeping the chain tensioned, and keeping leg muscles active are all good. In further cloud-with-silver-lining news, I got lapped twice by the leaders of the A race, keeping me from trotting up Evil Runup any more--for this race. The race-site results credited me with a lap I didn't do, but checking online results this evening show that the error has been corrected...darn, they're fast with posting those. They must be catering to the obsessive 50% of 'cross folks who can't sleep until the results are online.
The B race came right after the SS race, and I lined up at the very back fully expecting to stay there. The first couple laps sucked 'cuz I was so tired already, but surprisingly I was feeling better and better and kept going (at the start, I thought managing a couple laps and then pulling out would've been plenty honourable). Bits unrideable on the single speed became rideable again, and I started catching people: at first, just those knocked out by flats and mechanicals, but eventually some guys who I think were genuinely trying to pedal. It didn't last. Despite going "fast", my muscles and brain were probably desperately tired, and I lost focus/balance in an easy corner and slid out. Normally I'd just bounce back up, but in my condition I pretty much went into shock, with wobbly legs and feeling cold. So, I pulled over for a couple minutes and sat in the sunshine. I think I lost about 10 positions (including watching Nemesis pass me, grrr), but it was okay, I was cooked. Rolled home one lap down and guzzled all available liquids.
While it's fun to attempt the double, I won't do it for the Pilarcitos races any more: back-to-back is a bit too much pain. Some pain is good for you, too much is suffering. Hopefully I can improve my B results a little for the next 2 races (not hard when my last two placings were in the 50s).
Big thank yous to Morgan and Lauren for feeds, and to Michael and Sabine for not driving away with my car keys, and to my friends on the peninsula for the impromptu early chicken pot pie/pizza/ice cream dinner, and good to see so many of you fine folk out enjoying a balmy November Sunday.
Starting with warmup laps today, I so noticed the lack of suspension in my 'cross bikes after riding Big Green yesterday (see previous post): it was another lumpy bumpy dusty course, the type of surface that the full-suspension rig soaked right up while my 'cross bikes were letting me feel it a bit more directly, shall we say. At the same time, I can appreciate the comments from the shop guy who said he had tried 'cross after riding mountain bikes, and didn't do so well: suspension takes away a lot of decision-making that has to be done on a rigid frame.
It was so totally inappropriate for me to race singlespeed at today's McLaren Park CX race. I don't have the power-to-weight ratio to ride up steep stuff and haven't been running enough to compensate. In the cloud-with-silver-lining column, my brake hood came loose again (that'll get replaced now) forcing me to descend in the drops--and whaddya know, I had better control. The loose corners on the descent also reminded me how much better control I have when pedalling versus when coasting: delivering power, keeping the chain tensioned, and keeping leg muscles active are all good. In further cloud-with-silver-lining news, I got lapped twice by the leaders of the A race, keeping me from trotting up Evil Runup any more--for this race. The race-site results credited me with a lap I didn't do, but checking online results this evening show that the error has been corrected...darn, they're fast with posting those. They must be catering to the obsessive 50% of 'cross folks who can't sleep until the results are online.
The B race came right after the SS race, and I lined up at the very back fully expecting to stay there. The first couple laps sucked 'cuz I was so tired already, but surprisingly I was feeling better and better and kept going (at the start, I thought managing a couple laps and then pulling out would've been plenty honourable). Bits unrideable on the single speed became rideable again, and I started catching people: at first, just those knocked out by flats and mechanicals, but eventually some guys who I think were genuinely trying to pedal. It didn't last. Despite going "fast", my muscles and brain were probably desperately tired, and I lost focus/balance in an easy corner and slid out. Normally I'd just bounce back up, but in my condition I pretty much went into shock, with wobbly legs and feeling cold. So, I pulled over for a couple minutes and sat in the sunshine. I think I lost about 10 positions (including watching Nemesis pass me, grrr), but it was okay, I was cooked. Rolled home one lap down and guzzled all available liquids.
While it's fun to attempt the double, I won't do it for the Pilarcitos races any more: back-to-back is a bit too much pain. Some pain is good for you, too much is suffering. Hopefully I can improve my B results a little for the next 2 races (not hard when my last two placings were in the 50s).
Big thank yous to Morgan and Lauren for feeds, and to Michael and Sabine for not driving away with my car keys, and to my friends on the peninsula for the impromptu early chicken pot pie/pizza/ice cream dinner, and good to see so many of you fine folk out enjoying a balmy November Sunday.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Fat tire day
Things I learned:
1. It's a long, twisty road to Soquel Demonstration Forest--but worth it for the MTB riding. Great place for it, great trails.
2. My 9-yr-old Specialized Rockhopper is sorta crap. Still, with some patience, I hauled it around a circuit with some fairly difficult bits. As a hardtail, it climbs well, but its descending is not confidence-inspiring.
3. Sometimes old bike bits aren't that bad. For instance, when I went over a dropoff that I didn't intend to go over and at too low a speed regardless, my seat saved me from a self-inflicted proctological exam. Too bad for the seat, though.
Despite the...uh...drooping, it was really quite functional for riding back to the parking lot and I thanked providence for causing me no more damage than that. Still, it's done for; not even a handful of little blue pills are going to help this one.
4. After doing a test loop on old bike, I got a demo bike to try out. I had thought it would be nicely systematic to progress through a modern hardtail to a mid-range full-suspension to a glitzy whiz-bang machine, but (a) the loop was longer than I expected, so not enough time for all that, and (b) there was only one large bike left--this demo thing was quite popular! And so, enter the whiz-bang, high-end-componentry-laden, full-suspension 29er:
Better everything, shock-absorbing, and big, big tires. And probably no heavier if not lighter than my bike. Just as I had been getting back to camp, OV and VB came riding up, and they kindly waited for me to get checked out on Big Green before leading me yonder.
Oh what a difference it made. I was searching for potholes on the road to see if I could feel anything-no. Washed-out ruts? Climbed through them like a champ. Spinning, it could accelerate uphill without hesitation; standing, yeah, it flexed, but why stand when these things have such ridiculously low gears?
That was just the uphill climb. On the downhills, despite only having 4-inch travel in both shocks, this bike was point-and-shoot, except for some truly nasty rocky bike-killer stuff. This was my first time out mountain biking in about 2 years and I've probably never taken stuff on with such confidence--all because of the bike. In the end, I can't tell you how much was due to components, suspension, or 29er wheels, but the combination was supernatural compared to the Ol' Silver Hardtail.
5. Conclusion: I am a believer. If say a friend somehow convinces me to ride a 24h relay again, I'd definitely want to be on Big Green or something like it. But of course, the catch: there's a price to be paid. Big Green retails for a cool US$4100. Ol' Silver Hardtail was $600, 9 years ago. There'd better be a dramatic difference.
Ah well, maybe it's time to start another piggy bank...or not. I'm really not sure if I have time or inclination to use one of these bikes enough to justify that kind of investment. And now I'd better get some laundry done, otherwise I'll smell like a dead horse at tomorrow's 'cross races...
1. It's a long, twisty road to Soquel Demonstration Forest--but worth it for the MTB riding. Great place for it, great trails.
2. My 9-yr-old Specialized Rockhopper is sorta crap. Still, with some patience, I hauled it around a circuit with some fairly difficult bits. As a hardtail, it climbs well, but its descending is not confidence-inspiring.
3. Sometimes old bike bits aren't that bad. For instance, when I went over a dropoff that I didn't intend to go over and at too low a speed regardless, my seat saved me from a self-inflicted proctological exam. Too bad for the seat, though.
Despite the...uh...drooping, it was really quite functional for riding back to the parking lot and I thanked providence for causing me no more damage than that. Still, it's done for; not even a handful of little blue pills are going to help this one.
4. After doing a test loop on old bike, I got a demo bike to try out. I had thought it would be nicely systematic to progress through a modern hardtail to a mid-range full-suspension to a glitzy whiz-bang machine, but (a) the loop was longer than I expected, so not enough time for all that, and (b) there was only one large bike left--this demo thing was quite popular! And so, enter the whiz-bang, high-end-componentry-laden, full-suspension 29er:
Better everything, shock-absorbing, and big, big tires. And probably no heavier if not lighter than my bike. Just as I had been getting back to camp, OV and VB came riding up, and they kindly waited for me to get checked out on Big Green before leading me yonder.Oh what a difference it made. I was searching for potholes on the road to see if I could feel anything-no. Washed-out ruts? Climbed through them like a champ. Spinning, it could accelerate uphill without hesitation; standing, yeah, it flexed, but why stand when these things have such ridiculously low gears?
That was just the uphill climb. On the downhills, despite only having 4-inch travel in both shocks, this bike was point-and-shoot, except for some truly nasty rocky bike-killer stuff. This was my first time out mountain biking in about 2 years and I've probably never taken stuff on with such confidence--all because of the bike. In the end, I can't tell you how much was due to components, suspension, or 29er wheels, but the combination was supernatural compared to the Ol' Silver Hardtail.
5. Conclusion: I am a believer. If say a friend somehow convinces me to ride a 24h relay again, I'd definitely want to be on Big Green or something like it. But of course, the catch: there's a price to be paid. Big Green retails for a cool US$4100. Ol' Silver Hardtail was $600, 9 years ago. There'd better be a dramatic difference.
Ah well, maybe it's time to start another piggy bank...or not. I'm really not sure if I have time or inclination to use one of these bikes enough to justify that kind of investment. And now I'd better get some laundry done, otherwise I'll smell like a dead horse at tomorrow's 'cross races...
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
What am I thinking
Warning: this post is gonna ramble.
--
When I was home in Vernon, BC, Canada, this summer, I took the chance to finally ride up the local big hill, Silver Star Mountain. It's a 1200m rise over 21 km--that's what, 4000 ft over 13 miles. A good long climb. At the top is the ski village, which in summertime transforms into a summer activity wonderland, including downhill courses and chair lifts for the MTBers. Those bikes start looking funny when you never have to worry about going uphill.
So there I am in tight roadie clothes, Lycra and jersey and swoopy helmet and skinny tires. And there are the MTBers, baggy shorts and T-shirts and crash helmets and fatty tires. And we're sorta looking at each other, mutually thinking "what the hell kind of biking is that?"
--
I ride a bike a heck of a lot more than the average person, though perhaps less than the average reader of this blog. Still, I find it off-putting that I can walk into a bike store these days and find large sections which are a complete cipher: that being the fatty tire section. After looking at the number of frame styles and suspension linkages available for MTBs, the road bikes start looking all alike in comparison. And the fine points of MTB categories: what, pray tell, is the difference between "all-mountain" and "cross-country"?
--
I have no idea what triggered the urge, exactly, beyond maybe just having too much free time. And probably unpacking my venerable 1998 Specialized Rockhopper, which has served mostly as a commuter/townie bike--it got my through a 24hr relay race in 2005, even with the pannier rack still on the back, even on the original 1998 tires. But Monday night I sat down and clicked over to Specialized to see what was up.
In 1998, I remember there being the Rockhopper, above which was the Stumpjumper, of which at the top end you could find the FSR full-suspension job. Now our good friends in Morgan Hill have the Rockhopper (still a hardtail) and Stumpjumper (hardtail and FSR) and Epic (FS) and Enduro (FS) and on and on...all of which seem to overlap in price and function. Again: difference between cross-country and all-mountain and marathon is...? Um, it's also seems even easier in the MTB world than in the road world to find a bicycle with a list price higher than the value of my car. Heck, the price of most after-market suspension forks is higher than the cost of my Rockhopper, comlete.
A look at mtbr.com revealed that there are umpteen million full suspension XC bikes, and everyone rates them at 4.5-5.0. Gee, that really narrows things down. Knowing little else, a Santa Cruz Superlight might be nice...in my size...if I ever rode it.
--
Further investigations led me to the website of Trail Head Cyclery, in San Jose, CA. I could've glanced and moved on, but for some reason I poked around. And found:
DIRT DEMO IN THE DEMO, NOV. 3rd & 4th
When: Nov. 3rd and 4th, 9 a.m. 'till 3 p.m.
What: Demo bikes from Specialized, Intense, Ibis and Yeti
Where: Soquel Demonstration Forest
Dammit, it's the middle of 'cross season, I own 4 bikes already, and I have no regular urge to ride on trails, but regardless I've rung up a friend and it looks like we're going to show up Saturday to try to get some test rides. The regrettably timid rational part of my brain is saying that it's a good chance to see what the big deal is about full suspension, and that a trip to the SDF is long overdue if it's half as good as its reviews. Hopefully Timid Brain also has the foresight to keep the Credit Card far, far away. Oh wait, must bring a credit card as a deposit for test riding...
This could be trouble.
--
When I was home in Vernon, BC, Canada, this summer, I took the chance to finally ride up the local big hill, Silver Star Mountain. It's a 1200m rise over 21 km--that's what, 4000 ft over 13 miles. A good long climb. At the top is the ski village, which in summertime transforms into a summer activity wonderland, including downhill courses and chair lifts for the MTBers. Those bikes start looking funny when you never have to worry about going uphill.
So there I am in tight roadie clothes, Lycra and jersey and swoopy helmet and skinny tires. And there are the MTBers, baggy shorts and T-shirts and crash helmets and fatty tires. And we're sorta looking at each other, mutually thinking "what the hell kind of biking is that?"
--
I ride a bike a heck of a lot more than the average person, though perhaps less than the average reader of this blog. Still, I find it off-putting that I can walk into a bike store these days and find large sections which are a complete cipher: that being the fatty tire section. After looking at the number of frame styles and suspension linkages available for MTBs, the road bikes start looking all alike in comparison. And the fine points of MTB categories: what, pray tell, is the difference between "all-mountain" and "cross-country"?
--
I have no idea what triggered the urge, exactly, beyond maybe just having too much free time. And probably unpacking my venerable 1998 Specialized Rockhopper, which has served mostly as a commuter/townie bike--it got my through a 24hr relay race in 2005, even with the pannier rack still on the back, even on the original 1998 tires. But Monday night I sat down and clicked over to Specialized to see what was up.
In 1998, I remember there being the Rockhopper, above which was the Stumpjumper, of which at the top end you could find the FSR full-suspension job. Now our good friends in Morgan Hill have the Rockhopper (still a hardtail) and Stumpjumper (hardtail and FSR) and Epic (FS) and Enduro (FS) and on and on...all of which seem to overlap in price and function. Again: difference between cross-country and all-mountain and marathon is...? Um, it's also seems even easier in the MTB world than in the road world to find a bicycle with a list price higher than the value of my car. Heck, the price of most after-market suspension forks is higher than the cost of my Rockhopper, comlete.
A look at mtbr.com revealed that there are umpteen million full suspension XC bikes, and everyone rates them at 4.5-5.0. Gee, that really narrows things down. Knowing little else, a Santa Cruz Superlight might be nice...in my size...if I ever rode it.
--
Further investigations led me to the website of Trail Head Cyclery, in San Jose, CA. I could've glanced and moved on, but for some reason I poked around. And found:
DIRT DEMO IN THE DEMO, NOV. 3rd & 4th
When: Nov. 3rd and 4th, 9 a.m. 'till 3 p.m.
What: Demo bikes from Specialized, Intense, Ibis and Yeti
Where: Soquel Demonstration Forest
Dammit, it's the middle of 'cross season, I own 4 bikes already, and I have no regular urge to ride on trails, but regardless I've rung up a friend and it looks like we're going to show up Saturday to try to get some test rides. The regrettably timid rational part of my brain is saying that it's a good chance to see what the big deal is about full suspension, and that a trip to the SDF is long overdue if it's half as good as its reviews. Hopefully Timid Brain also has the foresight to keep the Credit Card far, far away. Oh wait, must bring a credit card as a deposit for test riding...
This could be trouble.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
'Cross shorts
i. Kudos to VeloNews, part one
Full article coverage of the Canadian 'Cross Championships. Aussie-o-philic cyclingnews only came up with a type sheet of results.
ii. About those championships
Not only did someone find a way to beat Lyne Bessette, but two people beat her! If it was Wendy Simms (the champ) and Alison Sydor, though, is it really that shocking? In the men's race, the winner was Max Harrigan (haven't met him, sorry) over last year's champ, Greg Reain. Both elite titles came down to 1 second gaps, it would've been a sight to see.
iii. Kudos to Velonews, part two:
Anecdotal coverage of this past weekend's Granogue race:
With three laps to go, Wicks tried to bunny-hop the barriers, something that nobody could remember having been attempted since they were placed in their current position three or four years ago. He cleared the first barrier, which brought gasps from the crowd. Then he rode into the second barrier like Wiley E. Coyote crashing into a canyon wall while chasing the Roadrunner, stunning the crowd into silence. Standing astride his bike at a standstill, Wicks looked up to find the Cyclocrossfiles.com video camera happily recording the whole incident. Wicks laughed, then got back to racing as though nothing unusual had occurred.
I'd like to think he would've had a good laugh even without the camera there. Sadly, Cyclocrossfiles.com isn't a real website (yet?), so who knows where the footage may be. This little report did make me feel better about my own follies at Sunday's races.
iv. About those Sunday races
During the single-speed race, I managed to rip my left brake lever loose--geez, I musta been torquing it to get up those hills. Let's see how I do on retaping...
v. Found while bloghopping
Everything I know about cyclocross I learned from Clark Natwick and Dave Carr. Though I guess OV has chastised me into attaching my race number in such a way that it doesn't act like a drag chute. Anyway, to complete a trinity of 'cross resources, maybe I could get Simon Burney's book--but why do that, if he has his own blog?
Full article coverage of the Canadian 'Cross Championships. Aussie-o-philic cyclingnews only came up with a type sheet of results.
ii. About those championships
Not only did someone find a way to beat Lyne Bessette, but two people beat her! If it was Wendy Simms (the champ) and Alison Sydor, though, is it really that shocking? In the men's race, the winner was Max Harrigan (haven't met him, sorry) over last year's champ, Greg Reain. Both elite titles came down to 1 second gaps, it would've been a sight to see.
iii. Kudos to Velonews, part two:
Anecdotal coverage of this past weekend's Granogue race:
With three laps to go, Wicks tried to bunny-hop the barriers, something that nobody could remember having been attempted since they were placed in their current position three or four years ago. He cleared the first barrier, which brought gasps from the crowd. Then he rode into the second barrier like Wiley E. Coyote crashing into a canyon wall while chasing the Roadrunner, stunning the crowd into silence. Standing astride his bike at a standstill, Wicks looked up to find the Cyclocrossfiles.com video camera happily recording the whole incident. Wicks laughed, then got back to racing as though nothing unusual had occurred.
I'd like to think he would've had a good laugh even without the camera there. Sadly, Cyclocrossfiles.com isn't a real website (yet?), so who knows where the footage may be. This little report did make me feel better about my own follies at Sunday's races.
iv. About those Sunday races
During the single-speed race, I managed to rip my left brake lever loose--geez, I musta been torquing it to get up those hills. Let's see how I do on retaping...
v. Found while bloghopping
Everything I know about cyclocross I learned from Clark Natwick and Dave Carr. Though I guess OV has chastised me into attaching my race number in such a way that it doesn't act like a drag chute. Anyway, to complete a trinity of 'cross resources, maybe I could get Simon Burney's book--but why do that, if he has his own blog?
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Get it over with
(a) See poll in right sidebar.
(b) Bash out a race report before bed:
Pilarcitos CX #2 was at Candlestick Park beside the football stadium, on infill much like Sierra Point, only...softer. Greener. Inviting. And the course designers had done their best to make use of the earthworks, leading riders up and down several of the steep artificial banks. There were some really pleasant, smooth grassy bits, and then there were the bumps, the little hard bumps, hidden under grass...oh, bumpy on the rumpy...
After shirking double duty at least weekend's CCCX race, I wasn't letting myself out of doubling up in the B's and singlespeed races this week. Singlespeed came up first, following the wave of the Men's A field. With only about a dozen SS starters, it was nice and wide open. After my trademark slow start, I started reeling in people after a couple laps, which was really satisfying, but the short, steep climbs started to grind me down: my 42/18 gear was just long enough to spin up nicely on the straight and flat, not so much on hills.
It was a long race (60 min), so I got in 8-9? laps--leaders minus one, I got lapped by the lead trio of A's about halfway through. Somewhere in there, I had a spectacular dismount failure and literally slid into a barrier on my butt, which got all sorts of attention from spectators who heard the resounding thunk and expected to see body parts flying off. Happily (sort of), the only thing flying off was my ever-diminishing pride...
Finished off the SS race, then had 10 minutes to prep for the Men's B race. This was, is, and will be less than ideal. Oh well. Had half a bottle of Gatorade and a gel, swigged some water, swtiched bikes and headed out for more.
The B start was much busier with much more contact--there's no shame in that field about cutting people off, and I spent a couple seconds having a good tire rub with a bike that swerved not-quite-in front of me. Major clusters happened at the first corner, the first hill, the first barriers...In a couple of places, my top-secret strategy of using the SS race to scout the course worked very well and I could scoop a couple positions by timing a good dismount-run-remount, very satisfying, very 'cross-skillful-feeling. However, it was getting to be a long day...
Judging from the results sheet afterwards, mid-race, I was about middle of the pack, 30th to 35th out of 60. On the large up-down-Uturn-up-down after the start, I had felt a little twitch in my thigh, a little twitch of overworked muscle...On the same lap, approaching the runup, I just touched the little stump of a bush on the right side. I started twisting to keep my balance, but oh, ow, ow, OW---
The Crampster.
Cramp-o-rama.
Leg cramping in the middle of a bike race.
The Cramp-inator.
I promptly dropped like a tranquilized rhino into the remains of said bush. Nice, long, springy branches, good for supporting an inert body. No thorns, thank heavens. A couple of heads-up spectators got my bike out of the way (I was now outside the course tape). All the folks I had spent the past thirty minutes passing then came by, and I can only wonder if they noticed me curled up in the fetal position in a bush in the middle of the race.
Well, my calf calmed down somewhat, and I could keep going. The last couple laps were pretty sedate, molto tranquillo, and the race leader mercifully lapped me and ended my pain. Still, I wasn't last--just, like, 52/61 or so.
Lesson: doing SS and B's back-to-back is quite doable, and I don't think my results suffered terribly, aside from the cramp. Unlike in a one-off race or in two races with a 2-3 hour break between, though, fuelling is necessary, starting in the first race. Whoever doesn't look busy two weeks from now is getting recruited for hand-ups!
The other sorta sucky thing is that all that racing does get in the way of socializing, and I hadn't more than a word or few with all the cool cats who show up to the 'cross races. Merci beaucoup to OV and the QB for letting me crash their tent--the shade felt so good post-race, mm-mmmm.
(b) Bash out a race report before bed:
Pilarcitos CX #2 was at Candlestick Park beside the football stadium, on infill much like Sierra Point, only...softer. Greener. Inviting. And the course designers had done their best to make use of the earthworks, leading riders up and down several of the steep artificial banks. There were some really pleasant, smooth grassy bits, and then there were the bumps, the little hard bumps, hidden under grass...oh, bumpy on the rumpy...
After shirking double duty at least weekend's CCCX race, I wasn't letting myself out of doubling up in the B's and singlespeed races this week. Singlespeed came up first, following the wave of the Men's A field. With only about a dozen SS starters, it was nice and wide open. After my trademark slow start, I started reeling in people after a couple laps, which was really satisfying, but the short, steep climbs started to grind me down: my 42/18 gear was just long enough to spin up nicely on the straight and flat, not so much on hills.
It was a long race (60 min), so I got in 8-9? laps--leaders minus one, I got lapped by the lead trio of A's about halfway through. Somewhere in there, I had a spectacular dismount failure and literally slid into a barrier on my butt, which got all sorts of attention from spectators who heard the resounding thunk and expected to see body parts flying off. Happily (sort of), the only thing flying off was my ever-diminishing pride...
Finished off the SS race, then had 10 minutes to prep for the Men's B race. This was, is, and will be less than ideal. Oh well. Had half a bottle of Gatorade and a gel, swigged some water, swtiched bikes and headed out for more.
The B start was much busier with much more contact--there's no shame in that field about cutting people off, and I spent a couple seconds having a good tire rub with a bike that swerved not-quite-in front of me. Major clusters happened at the first corner, the first hill, the first barriers...In a couple of places, my top-secret strategy of using the SS race to scout the course worked very well and I could scoop a couple positions by timing a good dismount-run-remount, very satisfying, very 'cross-skillful-feeling. However, it was getting to be a long day...
Judging from the results sheet afterwards, mid-race, I was about middle of the pack, 30th to 35th out of 60. On the large up-down-Uturn-up-down after the start, I had felt a little twitch in my thigh, a little twitch of overworked muscle...On the same lap, approaching the runup, I just touched the little stump of a bush on the right side. I started twisting to keep my balance, but oh, ow, ow, OW---
The Crampster.
Cramp-o-rama.
Leg cramping in the middle of a bike race.
The Cramp-inator.
I promptly dropped like a tranquilized rhino into the remains of said bush. Nice, long, springy branches, good for supporting an inert body. No thorns, thank heavens. A couple of heads-up spectators got my bike out of the way (I was now outside the course tape). All the folks I had spent the past thirty minutes passing then came by, and I can only wonder if they noticed me curled up in the fetal position in a bush in the middle of the race.
Well, my calf calmed down somewhat, and I could keep going. The last couple laps were pretty sedate, molto tranquillo, and the race leader mercifully lapped me and ended my pain. Still, I wasn't last--just, like, 52/61 or so.
Lesson: doing SS and B's back-to-back is quite doable, and I don't think my results suffered terribly, aside from the cramp. Unlike in a one-off race or in two races with a 2-3 hour break between, though, fuelling is necessary, starting in the first race. Whoever doesn't look busy two weeks from now is getting recruited for hand-ups!
The other sorta sucky thing is that all that racing does get in the way of socializing, and I hadn't more than a word or few with all the cool cats who show up to the 'cross races. Merci beaucoup to OV and the QB for letting me crash their tent--the shade felt so good post-race, mm-mmmm.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Canuck 'Cross Championships - Saturday and Sunday
Um, no, I'm not getting a callup.
They're taking place in BC for the second year in a row: last year, they were within spitting distance of my relatives on Vancouver Island and included mud and a river crossing; this year, they're in the interior semi-desert near Kamloops, BC. You're forgiven if you don't know where Kamloops is, but it's only 1-1.5 hrs drive from where I grew up.
Defending champions are Gregg Reain, who's racing mostly in Europe but recently came back across the water w/ Vervecken to race in New York, and Lyne Bessette, one of the two North American cyclocross dominatrices along with Katie Compton. Both GR and LB had stiff competition last year though, with Geoff Kabush and Wendy Simms close on their heels. It'll remain to be seen who comes to Kamloops or spend time chasing UCI points elsewhere...
And as usual, I will spend Sunday trying mostly to not fall down.
Edit: Trying to not fall down at the Pilarcitos race at Candlestick. It'd be nice to go back to Canada for a race, maybe I will someday, but for now I'm still a racing chump.
They're taking place in BC for the second year in a row: last year, they were within spitting distance of my relatives on Vancouver Island and included mud and a river crossing; this year, they're in the interior semi-desert near Kamloops, BC. You're forgiven if you don't know where Kamloops is, but it's only 1-1.5 hrs drive from where I grew up.
Defending champions are Gregg Reain, who's racing mostly in Europe but recently came back across the water w/ Vervecken to race in New York, and Lyne Bessette, one of the two North American cyclocross dominatrices along with Katie Compton. Both GR and LB had stiff competition last year though, with Geoff Kabush and Wendy Simms close on their heels. It'll remain to be seen who comes to Kamloops or spend time chasing UCI points elsewhere...
And as usual, I will spend Sunday trying mostly to not fall down.
Edit: Trying to not fall down at the Pilarcitos race at Candlestick. It'd be nice to go back to Canada for a race, maybe I will someday, but for now I'm still a racing chump.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
For whom the charming start-up chime tolls
It was only a matter of time.
I decided to get a new digital camera after having fun playing with Morgan and Lauren's point-and-shoot a couple weeks ago and having less success with my own camera this weekend. Over the summer, too, my camera was having trouble keeping up sometimes during the road trip. Darn it if the 7 MP camera didn't cost half as much as my 2 MP camera did 5 years ago.
The power of having a 7 MP camera though is going to start straining the limits of my home computer: a Mac laptop, from 2000.
The screen still works, if perhaps a bit dim; it browses the web just fine, if perhaps Youtube clips run a bit ragged; its 384MB of RAM are enough, if asking for a bit of patience; but lest I forget, it was the vehicle for my graduate thesis. The hard drive is a once-massive 12GB, now half-full with system software alone, and the size of the camera's memory card will exceed the available space on my computer.
The final nail in the laptop's coffin was today's spam from Apple announcing the imminent arrival of the new version of OS X.
Finally, Apple has decided to discontinue making new versions of OS X compatible with my G3 processor. I'm running version 10.4.10 now, and it's the end of the road.
Hmm, so if it's time for a new computer, how about a few reality checks: do I need a laptop, or do I just like something that doesn't take up much room? Is it my work computer and/or my home computer? Do I pay retail for a Mac or get a work-discounted PC? Does it come with luxurious burled wood trim?
I decided to get a new digital camera after having fun playing with Morgan and Lauren's point-and-shoot a couple weeks ago and having less success with my own camera this weekend. Over the summer, too, my camera was having trouble keeping up sometimes during the road trip. Darn it if the 7 MP camera didn't cost half as much as my 2 MP camera did 5 years ago.
The power of having a 7 MP camera though is going to start straining the limits of my home computer: a Mac laptop, from 2000.
The screen still works, if perhaps a bit dim; it browses the web just fine, if perhaps Youtube clips run a bit ragged; its 384MB of RAM are enough, if asking for a bit of patience; but lest I forget, it was the vehicle for my graduate thesis. The hard drive is a once-massive 12GB, now half-full with system software alone, and the size of the camera's memory card will exceed the available space on my computer.
The final nail in the laptop's coffin was today's spam from Apple announcing the imminent arrival of the new version of OS X.
Finally, Apple has decided to discontinue making new versions of OS X compatible with my G3 processor. I'm running version 10.4.10 now, and it's the end of the road.
Hmm, so if it's time for a new computer, how about a few reality checks: do I need a laptop, or do I just like something that doesn't take up much room? Is it my work computer and/or my home computer? Do I pay retail for a Mac or get a work-discounted PC? Does it come with luxurious burled wood trim?
Saturday, October 13, 2007
CCCX #3
The rains of Friday had me wondering what the conditions would be like in Seaside/Marina for CCCX #3. That, combined with anticipation of doing both the B's and a singlespeed race, had me loading the car with enough gear for an Antarctic crossing. The weather turned out beautiful and I only did the B race...but it never hurts to be reminded of how much bike stuff I already own.
I woke up late and cranky and only got to the course with enough time to do a half-practice lap. There could've been more time, but with the start and finish separated by 5 minutes' riding, it was hard to tell. The course was mostly (a) long road sections, with a good bit of uphill to make lungs burn, and (b) tacky singletrack through the chaparral. A couple of runs, one with barriers, one because of the loose sand--I didn't know the right-hand line people were riding to get around it, so just loped through as best I could. Also, a set of barriers on a slight downhill that you could carry crazy speed into--fast-twitch muscles required to take those at full speed!
The singletrack was fun and seemingly innocuous in practice, and finally provided some of the "soft, loamy ground" I was pining for last week. At race speed, though, cornering became a whole new game. First lap, I lost the line on a zig, then lost it completely on the next zag, and came to a complete halt to safely extract myself from a bush as most of the field passed me by (again!). On the bright side, that's the closest I came to crashing today--no lost skin!
On lap 3, Hernando watching from the sidelines noticed that I had picked up nicely, so I had probably done enough to warm up by then, and there was a group of 3-4 I was trying to keep with. I blew soon after, though--not good in what was a 7?-lap race. I ended up 16/22, and I know I was behind several guys I beat last week.
In the aftermath, I felt spent. Both that and the result are signs of dwindling fitness on my part. I need to remember that for three months, I'm a cyclist who happens to have a day job, and should train appropriately! It took doing the singlespeed race out of my plan, so I hung out, played retriever for Hernando as he did hand-ups for the women's race (a good battle), tried and failed to get some decent race photos, and enjoyed the fine weather.
I woke up late and cranky and only got to the course with enough time to do a half-practice lap. There could've been more time, but with the start and finish separated by 5 minutes' riding, it was hard to tell. The course was mostly (a) long road sections, with a good bit of uphill to make lungs burn, and (b) tacky singletrack through the chaparral. A couple of runs, one with barriers, one because of the loose sand--I didn't know the right-hand line people were riding to get around it, so just loped through as best I could. Also, a set of barriers on a slight downhill that you could carry crazy speed into--fast-twitch muscles required to take those at full speed!
The singletrack was fun and seemingly innocuous in practice, and finally provided some of the "soft, loamy ground" I was pining for last week. At race speed, though, cornering became a whole new game. First lap, I lost the line on a zig, then lost it completely on the next zag, and came to a complete halt to safely extract myself from a bush as most of the field passed me by (again!). On the bright side, that's the closest I came to crashing today--no lost skin!
On lap 3, Hernando watching from the sidelines noticed that I had picked up nicely, so I had probably done enough to warm up by then, and there was a group of 3-4 I was trying to keep with. I blew soon after, though--not good in what was a 7?-lap race. I ended up 16/22, and I know I was behind several guys I beat last week.
In the aftermath, I felt spent. Both that and the result are signs of dwindling fitness on my part. I need to remember that for three months, I'm a cyclist who happens to have a day job, and should train appropriately! It took doing the singlespeed race out of my plan, so I hung out, played retriever for Hernando as he did hand-ups for the women's race (a good battle), tried and failed to get some decent race photos, and enjoyed the fine weather.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Northern turkey 'cross
This was the weekend of Canadian Thanksgiving, not that many people in the US notice either that or Columbus Day. Still, Happy Thanksgiving to you all--eh?
Sunday was the first installment of the Pilarcitos Superprestige cyclocross series, at a new/old venue, Sierra Point. The grounds were "reclaimed" from the Bay, so the dirt was, well, sort of like ground concrete. Hard, powdery. We don't get to play on soft, loamy dirt around here very much, do we? Others have described the spidery course, so on to a race report:
I started near the back, hoping more for a clean race than a high placing. Indeed, the clustering in the first sequence of up-and-down-and-up U-turns made a high placing pretty much impossible: by the time I got through, the leaders had long since hopped over the triple barrier way up the course. Still, I managed to sabotage my hopes for a clean race on the first drop after the barriers/run-up by sliding out on the oversized gravel at the bottom (gravel? well-aged asphalt). After getting up, dusting off, and checking to see if my bike still worked, there was a woman doing a warmup lap behind me. So, I was either DFL or really close to it.
The nice thing was that I was strong enough to catch up and pass people after that--clearly I was far more motivated after crashing than I was last week. The two running sections really played to my long legs and running background as I could make up gobs of time and space. Somewhere in there, I came up behind Nemesis, the rider who had caused me to crash the two weeks previous by boggling in front of me--he was picking himself up after a failed attempt to scuttle someone else's chances. I followed for some ways, leaving enough space to allow for dodging, then passed on some straight where it'd be really hard for him to find a place to boggle. And that's the last I saw of Nemesis...this time. We will meet again--he's better at lining up second row for the start, methinks.
The race ended with me in a pack-filler position (36/58) but without getting lapped. Key points: start better, somehow, and don't fall over. Really, I just need to stop falling, and things could improve mightily. And repairing skin is getting old.
Great fun to see all the folks with their tents (and precious shade) and barbeques and coolers out for the races: running a team competition that includes points for all of those things is possibly one of the best aspects of this series. Morgan even handed me his camera to take a few pictures 'round the course, which was fun--hanging out at the races post-Lycra is always fun--and some of them were even in focus. I think it also allowed Morgan to focus on, well, beer.
Now writing this post is mostly redundant because (a) I think I ran into everyone who reads this blog and knows cyclocross at the race, so they know my story already, and (b) anyone who reads this and doesn't know cyclocross will probably get as much out of it as they would an advance Swahili reader. But it's good practice.
Sunday was the first installment of the Pilarcitos Superprestige cyclocross series, at a new/old venue, Sierra Point. The grounds were "reclaimed" from the Bay, so the dirt was, well, sort of like ground concrete. Hard, powdery. We don't get to play on soft, loamy dirt around here very much, do we? Others have described the spidery course, so on to a race report:
I started near the back, hoping more for a clean race than a high placing. Indeed, the clustering in the first sequence of up-and-down-and-up U-turns made a high placing pretty much impossible: by the time I got through, the leaders had long since hopped over the triple barrier way up the course. Still, I managed to sabotage my hopes for a clean race on the first drop after the barriers/run-up by sliding out on the oversized gravel at the bottom (gravel? well-aged asphalt). After getting up, dusting off, and checking to see if my bike still worked, there was a woman doing a warmup lap behind me. So, I was either DFL or really close to it.
The nice thing was that I was strong enough to catch up and pass people after that--clearly I was far more motivated after crashing than I was last week. The two running sections really played to my long legs and running background as I could make up gobs of time and space. Somewhere in there, I came up behind Nemesis, the rider who had caused me to crash the two weeks previous by boggling in front of me--he was picking himself up after a failed attempt to scuttle someone else's chances. I followed for some ways, leaving enough space to allow for dodging, then passed on some straight where it'd be really hard for him to find a place to boggle. And that's the last I saw of Nemesis...this time. We will meet again--he's better at lining up second row for the start, methinks.
The race ended with me in a pack-filler position (36/58) but without getting lapped. Key points: start better, somehow, and don't fall over. Really, I just need to stop falling, and things could improve mightily. And repairing skin is getting old.
Great fun to see all the folks with their tents (and precious shade) and barbeques and coolers out for the races: running a team competition that includes points for all of those things is possibly one of the best aspects of this series. Morgan even handed me his camera to take a few pictures 'round the course, which was fun--hanging out at the races post-Lycra is always fun--and some of them were even in focus. I think it also allowed Morgan to focus on, well, beer.
Now writing this post is mostly redundant because (a) I think I ran into everyone who reads this blog and knows cyclocross at the race, so they know my story already, and (b) anyone who reads this and doesn't know cyclocross will probably get as much out of it as they would an advance Swahili reader. But it's good practice.
Monday, October 1, 2007
My country, my countrymen
Discussion of the Canadian men's performance at yesterday's World Championship on cyclingnews.com:
"The 270-kilometre course was tough and to be honest, this was a completely different level of competition," said Canadian team manager Kris Westwood. "It's as if the guys went from junior hockey to the NHL."
Dammit, if they had gone for the body and finished their checks, they woulda done good...
"The 270-kilometre course was tough and to be honest, this was a completely different level of competition," said Canadian team manager Kris Westwood. "It's as if the guys went from junior hockey to the NHL."
Dammit, if they had gone for the body and finished their checks, they woulda done good...
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Waaaah
Sadly, I don't think today's cyclocross race reached a critical measure: namely, would I have enjoyed my day more if I had just sat in a chair. This was recently made into a higher standard since I got a better chair, but still...
As far as rest/hydration/nutrition goes, it was fine. I got there early, scouted the course for a few laps, knew there were difficult bits...and more difficult bits...OK, it was not the course I might've hoped for, or that the race director would've hoped for, but you usually just have to be glad that there's a venue at all and make do. Racing for the first time last weekend, riding on the rough stuff wigged me out at first, but eventually I figured out how to go. Pain was in legs and lungs. On today's course, you could smell approaching flesh wounds.
Out the start, I got blown away by all the guys who are happier to play bump 'n' grind for the hole shot, so was probably in the 2nd half of the field by the time I got to the first full lap. Going 'round the fields, I recognized the jersey and bike of a rider who had boggled in front of me last week resulting in my own crash...and I didn't quite get past him. We got to the off-camber nastiness, he boggled, I crashed. I remounted, couldn't get bike to go, crashed again and clusterfucked the group behind me. I recognized a guy in that group too, having heard his favorite epithet ("Fuck, dude!") last week, also in the context of the guy who boggled in front of me. The other riders got around me, I tried to get my wits back, and rolled on...
About 50 feet later, in the middle of nothing, the front wheel locked up and I was lucky to run over the handlebars and not endo onto my face. In the middle of nothing. Walked back to the bike and discovered that in the middle of my little induced crashing escapade, I had picked up a rather large stick which had found its way into my front spokes--ergo, front wheel lock up. Stick removed, I could continue.
At this point, I was (a) out of sight of the entire field and (b) not having fun anymore. The chair was ahead by miles.
There was no need to try and no need to risk further injury to myself or my equipment. I soft-pedalled on. I seriously considered just pulling over at the finish line and handing in my number. But, I had paid my $35 and was in goofy bike clothes, so I soft-pedalled some more. By the end, I had figured out lines--sort of--on the goofy rocky off-camber things. I got lapped by the race leader only in the last lap (and he was ahead by a long shot), and when he came around I could sorta keep up with him, at least enough to know that I wouldn't have got lapped if I was in any mood to go hard earlier. Russell the Red Lantern was first to shake the winner's hand when I crossed the line right after him.
Then things got stupid again. My rear tire had developed a slow leak in the last quarter-lap. After crossing the finish line, I kept going on-course to pick up my water bottle from the start line. Anyone who did the race today knows that right after the finish line was the nastiest rockiest off-camber slope of them all, and I tried getting up it on a near-flat tire. Afterwards, I had fresh scrapes, my chain had escaped irrecoverably underneath my chain watcher, the tire was flat, and as I picked up the bike to carry it away, noticed that some funny steering sensations I had during the race probably came from my headset being almost completely frozen.
Now I only wanted to go home.
The drive home--still dirty, bloody, now hungry, cranky, with a bike non-functional at both ends--just wasn't happy.
This better be an isolated incident, 'cuz it's not worth it to spend so much time (75 miles drive each way) or money ($35 reg, $20 gas, $45 new headset) to not be entertained.
Yeah, this is a long whine.
Daily highlight: good to see pabcid and xbunny and migo, live 'n' kickin'.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Double 'cross
Race reportage from CCCX #1, Manzanita Park:
Fun course. Not rolling, but half-up and half-down, with more technical bits going down. Wide in most places, so it avoided the single-track sheep-in-a-line phenomenon.
I joined the B men for the first time, starting at 10am (a nice respite from 8.30am-9am in the C's last year). I was 2nd row, and within a few seconds of the start saw at least a dozen riders shoot off the front never to be seen again. I and others chugged away for lesser places in the back. Barriers went surprisingly smooth given the awkwardness of dismounts in practice. No major mechanicals, just a dropped chain that eventually jigged back on. No major biffs, 'cept running into two others tangled up on the whoop-te-doos at the top--that left me with a good scratch on my forearm. The dirt U-turn at the bottom confused me since dismounting left was downhill, so I ended up dismounting right every time--worked a couple times, but as I tired I never found an elegant way through. After 7 laps, I ended up about 15th out of 25, not bad and what I deserved, I think.
The question was then whther or not I should also ride the single speed A's at 1.15pm. I waffled...thought no at first...but got the bike together for a practice lap and it wasn't so bad. Morgan F. pushed me over the edge, along with the discovery that there was a discount on a second registration...
After trying to stay fed and hydrated and not sunburnt between races, we finally were off, 30 seconds behind the Men's A field. Again, I saw half the field go zooming off, never to be seen again--in the B's, I wasn't warm, and for the SS race, I think I was on my way down...It was still fun, though I didn't have the power to overtake any other racers; I could try to keep from being overtaken a couple times, but eventually lost out. Still, bouncing around on the trails was good, and I was using my brakes less and less and pedalling more and more (SS racing is probably good for that). One more biff when in the aforementioned dirt U-turn my foot hit the guy behind me while I was trying to dismount--he finished his pass on the run-up-and-out. 8 laps later, my back was screaming at me, I got lapped by part of the A field (though I'm fine with that: the first three to pass, Robinson, Snead, and Wyatt, are of course national-caliber).
Conclusion: I've got work to do if I'm going to be powerful and fit enough to give anyone a run for their money. And doing two races is probably not a bad way to get there.
Stopping at the corner grocery on the way home, that half-liter of chocolate milk tasted so good...They can keep their post-race beers.
Since getting home, I've been responsible all afternoon, and now I want to veg in my easy chair and watch Ken Burns' documentary on PBS for the evening. G'night, good luck, and I'm looking forward to seeing Morgan and Lauren's photos of the whole thing...
Fun course. Not rolling, but half-up and half-down, with more technical bits going down. Wide in most places, so it avoided the single-track sheep-in-a-line phenomenon.
I joined the B men for the first time, starting at 10am (a nice respite from 8.30am-9am in the C's last year). I was 2nd row, and within a few seconds of the start saw at least a dozen riders shoot off the front never to be seen again. I and others chugged away for lesser places in the back. Barriers went surprisingly smooth given the awkwardness of dismounts in practice. No major mechanicals, just a dropped chain that eventually jigged back on. No major biffs, 'cept running into two others tangled up on the whoop-te-doos at the top--that left me with a good scratch on my forearm. The dirt U-turn at the bottom confused me since dismounting left was downhill, so I ended up dismounting right every time--worked a couple times, but as I tired I never found an elegant way through. After 7 laps, I ended up about 15th out of 25, not bad and what I deserved, I think.
The question was then whther or not I should also ride the single speed A's at 1.15pm. I waffled...thought no at first...but got the bike together for a practice lap and it wasn't so bad. Morgan F. pushed me over the edge, along with the discovery that there was a discount on a second registration...
After trying to stay fed and hydrated and not sunburnt between races, we finally were off, 30 seconds behind the Men's A field. Again, I saw half the field go zooming off, never to be seen again--in the B's, I wasn't warm, and for the SS race, I think I was on my way down...It was still fun, though I didn't have the power to overtake any other racers; I could try to keep from being overtaken a couple times, but eventually lost out. Still, bouncing around on the trails was good, and I was using my brakes less and less and pedalling more and more (SS racing is probably good for that). One more biff when in the aforementioned dirt U-turn my foot hit the guy behind me while I was trying to dismount--he finished his pass on the run-up-and-out. 8 laps later, my back was screaming at me, I got lapped by part of the A field (though I'm fine with that: the first three to pass, Robinson, Snead, and Wyatt, are of course national-caliber).
Conclusion: I've got work to do if I'm going to be powerful and fit enough to give anyone a run for their money. And doing two races is probably not a bad way to get there.
Stopping at the corner grocery on the way home, that half-liter of chocolate milk tasted so good...They can keep their post-race beers.
Since getting home, I've been responsible all afternoon, and now I want to veg in my easy chair and watch Ken Burns' documentary on PBS for the evening. G'night, good luck, and I'm looking forward to seeing Morgan and Lauren's photos of the whole thing...
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Freaky Flickr-viewers and the Fajitas From Mars
With a full-time internet connection in hand, I decided to revive my Flickr account and get some pictures online for friends, families, and complete strangers. Some from my road trip in July, some from Thailand last December, some stretching back to 2003...I'm not an artist, just snaps. And I picked up the little Flickr sidebar widget from Lauren's website.
Photos are still being uploaded, organized, labelled, etc. but some viewers have already come by--I don't know who. Since Flickr counts views, though, you can tell which photos people are coming to look at. So, with photos of mountains and waterfalls and the mighty rivers of British Columbia and exotic Oriental locations and the like, which photo has the most views? My caption:
"9am on a Sunday morning and there's a family splashing in the pool--dad was wearing a Speedo and a 10-gallon hat."
Now the wider world knows what the courtyard of the Super 8 in Wells, NV, looks like. Apparently it's in demand.
Out of mercy to myself, I did not take a photo with sufficient resolution and zoom to reveal the dad in all his glory, but the Flickr-passersby must be squinting to catch a sight of him...heaven knows there have been enough Speedos in the local blogs lately...
----
In a long overdue discussion of food, cooked up some fajitas for dinner this evening. All was well until I pulled out the wraps..."Spinach Garden Herb" seemed fine at the time (and was on sale), but little green bundles on the plate just looked a little extraplanetary.
I switched my eyes to black-and-white and all was fine. Yum.
Fine, I'll wash the dishes now instead of net-dawdling...
Photos are still being uploaded, organized, labelled, etc. but some viewers have already come by--I don't know who. Since Flickr counts views, though, you can tell which photos people are coming to look at. So, with photos of mountains and waterfalls and the mighty rivers of British Columbia and exotic Oriental locations and the like, which photo has the most views? My caption:
"9am on a Sunday morning and there's a family splashing in the pool--dad was wearing a Speedo and a 10-gallon hat."
Now the wider world knows what the courtyard of the Super 8 in Wells, NV, looks like. Apparently it's in demand.
Out of mercy to myself, I did not take a photo with sufficient resolution and zoom to reveal the dad in all his glory, but the Flickr-passersby must be squinting to catch a sight of him...heaven knows there have been enough Speedos in the local blogs lately...
----
In a long overdue discussion of food, cooked up some fajitas for dinner this evening. All was well until I pulled out the wraps..."Spinach Garden Herb" seemed fine at the time (and was on sale), but little green bundles on the plate just looked a little extraplanetary.I switched my eyes to black-and-white and all was fine. Yum.
Fine, I'll wash the dishes now instead of net-dawdling...
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Humbility for the aspiring cyclocrossist
Went for a ride this morning to practice cyclocross dismounts and remounts. The first two attempts at dismounts left me sitting on my ass on the ground. Not good.
Things improved, though my remounts are too stuttettery, and they may be that way for a long time until I overcome, uh, nard fear.
On the way home, things were goin' good, and I started playing around with hopping over little things. Gee, fun!--POP. So much for that tube, and like a dumbass I didn't have a spare or patch or pump, and thereby earned a 2-mile Walk of Shame. Oh well, got some shouldering practice.
A lot of people on bikes passed me, but I was nearly home before one of them (roadie in kit) asked if I could use a hand. I probably would've said I was okay but thanks anyway (as I did to Roadie), but there was nary even an offer. Not feelin' the bike community love today.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Feel the heat
I've got a hot body.
No, really: I tend to feel warm most of the time. Some of us (and usually those of us holding a Y gene) are so blessed. Blessed, that is, until it is time to go to bed.
At some point, I was trained to feel comfortable in bed when the blankets on top of me were essentially heavy enough to prevent me from moving. Blankets that heavy also tend to be very warm, which for those of us with high internal body temps, leads to rather humid in-bed conditions. So the usual choice is heavy sheets and sweaty versus light sheets and not sleepy.
This evening, it is with some giddiness that I see the temperature in by bedroom has dropped below 70°F before bedtime, for the first time in many weeks. Within a month, it may be below 60...sweet cool relief.
Oo, wait: courtesy of the internet, maybe I should get one of these before next summer...
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Slow for sale
Despite the sentimental value, the new apartment is small, and Slow is gonna go elsewhere. Anyone interested? Check the ad on craiglist (tips on advertising a bike like this on craigslist appreciated).
Loopiness
Argh. Despite convincing myself I had the best of intentions, I failed to ride my bike to work once this week. Had a good, hard ride on Labor Day, including riding up nasty old Hicks Rd, but failed to build on it.In an attempt to get back in the saddle, and as a break from researching my potential career in laundry, I went noodling up the LG creek trail this morning on what I guess will be my bread-and-butter cyclocross training loop.
Some up, some down; some attempts at mounting and remounting, and as a result my first mild CX scrape of the season. Like most CX scrapes, I'm left wondering how I twisted and flexed in order to make bike/skin contact in that particular location.
It did earn me the luxury of whether time is now better spent showering or watching US Open tennis...
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Unleashed
Over the last weekend of August, I moved into a studio apartment across the way in Los Gatos. No more sharing of house with two other people, time to have my own space to do with as I please (within the limits of being a tenant).
This is now the 10th street address I've had in California in just under 9 years, not counting two periods spent sleeping on people's couches for which I did not formally change my address. Yes, I feel like a transient, and/or like I've got some as-yet-unnamed pyschological twitch, possibly induced by living in the same house from the beginnings of consciousness until I was 18 years old.
The title of this post refers to the viciousness with which I have wielded my poor, unsuspecting credit card for the past week and a half as I try to turn this place into my home. Some shelves, ironing board, stand for the rediscovered TV, doohickey that allows me to watch DVDs on said old TV, internet connection, rug to protect new carpet from bikes. Hmm, bikes: new suspension seatpost for Slow (!--sweet ride), 'cross tires, freewheel remover and freewheel, chainring...Let's not forget filling all those empty cupboards in the kitchen, and a decent-sized stockpot...
A little swipe of the plastic and it's mine, so easy, so easy. Now I shouldn't be too concerned, as I'm not actually that extravagant, but it's a heck of a lot more spending that I've done in a long time and it would be nice for it to - just - slow - down - a - little...
...and contemplate that I may be moving again at the end of December. (11!)
This is now the 10th street address I've had in California in just under 9 years, not counting two periods spent sleeping on people's couches for which I did not formally change my address. Yes, I feel like a transient, and/or like I've got some as-yet-unnamed pyschological twitch, possibly induced by living in the same house from the beginnings of consciousness until I was 18 years old.
The title of this post refers to the viciousness with which I have wielded my poor, unsuspecting credit card for the past week and a half as I try to turn this place into my home. Some shelves, ironing board, stand for the rediscovered TV, doohickey that allows me to watch DVDs on said old TV, internet connection, rug to protect new carpet from bikes. Hmm, bikes: new suspension seatpost for Slow (!--sweet ride), 'cross tires, freewheel remover and freewheel, chainring...Let's not forget filling all those empty cupboards in the kitchen, and a decent-sized stockpot...
A little swipe of the plastic and it's mine, so easy, so easy. Now I shouldn't be too concerned, as I'm not actually that extravagant, but it's a heck of a lot more spending that I've done in a long time and it would be nice for it to - just - slow - down - a - little...
...and contemplate that I may be moving again at the end of December. (11!)
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Where have all the blue boxes gone
I put off sending in a check to AJM's Medical Recovery Fund/Raffle until now, and the drawing is on Labor Day--so if you haven't sent in a twenty for a ticket, do so now. Darn good prizes available. Heck, I even like the bowl.
I wrote the check last night just before going to bed and wanted to mail it on the way in to work this morning--while bike commuting. The mail slot at the apartment complex into which I just moved is behind a funny gate thing, not bike-convenient, so I thought I'd just drop it in a USPS blue box on the way to work. Stuffed the envelope in my jersey pocket and away I went.
And rode, and looked for a postbox.
And rode some more.
And got to work without seeing a single blue box.
It's either (a) I'm still blind despite laser eye surgery or (b) they're all gone, be it because they're too troublesome for the post office to maintain, or they're too easy to hide bombs in during these days of fear and wonder.
So I'll drop the envelope off at work, but after riding with it in my jersey pocket for 45 minutes, I'm afraid the envelope and check may have absorbed some, uh, cycling funk. Sweat, to be sure. Do letter carriers wear protective gloves? Do the JMs?
I wrote the check last night just before going to bed and wanted to mail it on the way in to work this morning--while bike commuting. The mail slot at the apartment complex into which I just moved is behind a funny gate thing, not bike-convenient, so I thought I'd just drop it in a USPS blue box on the way to work. Stuffed the envelope in my jersey pocket and away I went.
And rode, and looked for a postbox.
And rode some more.
And got to work without seeing a single blue box.
It's either (a) I'm still blind despite laser eye surgery or (b) they're all gone, be it because they're too troublesome for the post office to maintain, or they're too easy to hide bombs in during these days of fear and wonder.
So I'll drop the envelope off at work, but after riding with it in my jersey pocket for 45 minutes, I'm afraid the envelope and check may have absorbed some, uh, cycling funk. Sweat, to be sure. Do letter carriers wear protective gloves? Do the JMs?
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
spotted during downtime at work
Oh, the irony.
From www.sfgate.com:
"(08-28) 11:27 PDT BLACK ROCK DESERT, NEV. - A San Francisco man was arrested on felony arson charges today after the 40-foot-tall "Man" statue whose torching is the annual highlight of the Burning Man festival in Nevada went up in flames four days early, authorities said."
Talk about premature immolation...
From www.sfgate.com:
"(08-28) 11:27 PDT BLACK ROCK DESERT, NEV. - A San Francisco man was arrested on felony arson charges today after the 40-foot-tall "Man" statue whose torching is the annual highlight of the Burning Man festival in Nevada went up in flames four days early, authorities said."
Talk about premature immolation...
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Too long
Not a post inspired by any great happenings, merely by the lack of posting.
Got back from Boston yesterday evening, having attended another gathering of 10,000+ chemists. As time goes on, I'm noticing that the motivation to attend these things doesn't come so much from presenting new research findings (the few I have) or listening to other people's research findings (the few they have) but rather from seeing familiar faces. I guess networking can happen after all, even for us quiet types.
Boston's transit system ("the T") works well--always refreshing to note when travelling outside of California.
Boston's convention center, like most, looks to have been built over decrepit land and/or buildings as an urban renewal project. However, it is still close enough to civilization that we could walk out of it and have a remarkably good lunch for not more if not less than what the convention center's typically mediocre food court was charging. This is in contrast to the Chicago convention center, which is truly surrounded by urban wasteland.
The weather in Boston was probably even better than it was in California. I brought a sweater and felt silly for it.
Watching environmental-cataclysm movies on the plane while flying back to California probably wouldn't be everyone's cup of tea. Still, to watch "The Day After Tomorrow" and then look out the window to see the scars from miles-thick ice etched into the colossal granites of the west, to see it tinted orange by the sunshine filtering through smoke, to see a forgotten wildfire burning lazily across the acres and miles of sagebrush...felt curiously profound.
That fire north of Santa Barbara has burned an area larger than Rhode Island.
Got back from Boston yesterday evening, having attended another gathering of 10,000+ chemists. As time goes on, I'm noticing that the motivation to attend these things doesn't come so much from presenting new research findings (the few I have) or listening to other people's research findings (the few they have) but rather from seeing familiar faces. I guess networking can happen after all, even for us quiet types.
Boston's transit system ("the T") works well--always refreshing to note when travelling outside of California.
Boston's convention center, like most, looks to have been built over decrepit land and/or buildings as an urban renewal project. However, it is still close enough to civilization that we could walk out of it and have a remarkably good lunch for not more if not less than what the convention center's typically mediocre food court was charging. This is in contrast to the Chicago convention center, which is truly surrounded by urban wasteland.
The weather in Boston was probably even better than it was in California. I brought a sweater and felt silly for it.
Watching environmental-cataclysm movies on the plane while flying back to California probably wouldn't be everyone's cup of tea. Still, to watch "The Day After Tomorrow" and then look out the window to see the scars from miles-thick ice etched into the colossal granites of the west, to see it tinted orange by the sunshine filtering through smoke, to see a forgotten wildfire burning lazily across the acres and miles of sagebrush...felt curiously profound.
That fire north of Santa Barbara has burned an area larger than Rhode Island.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Dangnabbit
Back to bike geekdom.
I bought a single-speed 'cross bike this spring, pretty much the cheapest complete SSCC bike available, just to get a machine under me. I figured that since I've given everybody else a 20-year head start on this "training" thing that I've got to do some catchup. And, if I'm going to drive 50 miles to do a 30-40 minute race, I should do another one while I'm there. Since there are separate single-speed cross categories, one geared bike plus one single-speed equals two races equals twice as much racing/training.
I was also looking forward to racing in the B's this year so as to not have any 8.30-9am start times. I need my beauty sleep on weekends. And weekdays, for that matter.
So Pilarcitos and CCCX have now posted their start times. Pilarcitos: SS at 12pm for 1 h, B's at 1.10pm for 45 min. Am I insane enough to even try? It's just gonna hurt...so maybe it's the C's for me there again this year (it's not like I broke the top 20 in their C's last year). CCCX: B's and single-speed B's, both at 10am for 45 min; single-speed A's at 1pm for 1 h. Well, B's + SSA's is sorta doable...just gotta stay outta the way of the big boys.
---
I need a job, else I get deported in January.
Anybody need a cyclochemist? Er, chemocrosser?
---
Outside water faucet has broken a gasket and is leaking all over. This house is losing any faint semblance of charm quickly.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Confessions of gargantuan geekdom
I played Dungeons and Dragons as a youth.
When my parents moved, the box of D&D books was uncovered in the bottom of my closet, after all these years. I think...there were moments of weakness as I considered whether or not I might want to try playing again, after all these years.
I remember the rules, I remember the dice, I remember how much damage a long sword does, I remember that extra-healing potions were ounce-for-ounce a better deal than regular healing potions. Gold pieces, gnomes, efreeti, search for traps, fireball (level 3 magic-user spell), save against dragon breath...but I never got to fight a beholder.
Thirty pounds of books.
Unsurprisingly enough, there is an online community of enthusiasts who propagate the original ("1st edition") AD&D rules from the mid-'80s (the publishers are now on edition 3.5, which only used 20-sided dice; no more d4, d6, d8, d10, or d12, let alone figuring out what to roll for "45-75"). A quick forum post, and within 24 hours people from all across the land descended like cyberwolves to tear the collection apart. It all got mailed away today, to Iowa, Michigan, Texas, Pennsylvania, and New York.
Movin' on...
When my parents moved, the box of D&D books was uncovered in the bottom of my closet, after all these years. I think...there were moments of weakness as I considered whether or not I might want to try playing again, after all these years.
I remember the rules, I remember the dice, I remember how much damage a long sword does, I remember that extra-healing potions were ounce-for-ounce a better deal than regular healing potions. Gold pieces, gnomes, efreeti, search for traps, fireball (level 3 magic-user spell), save against dragon breath...but I never got to fight a beholder.
Thirty pounds of books.
Unsurprisingly enough, there is an online community of enthusiasts who propagate the original ("1st edition") AD&D rules from the mid-'80s (the publishers are now on edition 3.5, which only used 20-sided dice; no more d4, d6, d8, d10, or d12, let alone figuring out what to roll for "45-75"). A quick forum post, and within 24 hours people from all across the land descended like cyberwolves to tear the collection apart. It all got mailed away today, to Iowa, Michigan, Texas, Pennsylvania, and New York.
Movin' on...
Deblackled for greater readability
Scientific rationale for black-on-white being easier to read than white-on-black:
The average brightness of the screen will determine whether the pupil is dilated (open) or contracted (closed). Photographers can tell you that the depth of field (minimum and maximum distances between which all is in focus) increases as the aperture size decreases.
If the screen is white (with only a small amount of black print), the pupil will contract, decreasing the aperture size and increasing the depth of field. The lens then has to do less fine adjustment in order to keep the screen in focus as our head wobbles around. Ergo, a more relaxing read.
Wobble, wobble, wobble...
The average brightness of the screen will determine whether the pupil is dilated (open) or contracted (closed). Photographers can tell you that the depth of field (minimum and maximum distances between which all is in focus) increases as the aperture size decreases.
If the screen is white (with only a small amount of black print), the pupil will contract, decreasing the aperture size and increasing the depth of field. The lens then has to do less fine adjustment in order to keep the screen in focus as our head wobbles around. Ergo, a more relaxing read.
Wobble, wobble, wobble...
Friday, August 10, 2007
Yes, this blog has been blackled
Points to xbunny for calling me on it.
Do I get credit for being first to use "blackle" as a verb?
Do I get credit for being first to use "blackle" as a verb?
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Go pick on someone your own size
After a slightly inappropriate debut in the C's back in June, I signed in to ride with the B's (cat 4/5) at the twilight training crit last night. I was slacking in July--would I make it in August?
I circulated, moved around. Sometime in lap 4-5 I was on the front. Thereafter tried to "float" to the back. Overfloated and practiced sprinting to catch onto the back again, yo-yoed for a couple laps. Recovered enough to take a little dig on the 3rd-to-last lap, got space with one other guy...and couldn't hold it. Subsequently got dropped on the last lap and did not contest the finish, but easily guessed the winner of the bunch sprint.
List of things to improve:
--cornering at speed without going waaaay wide
--maintaining speed through corners
--strength
--endurance
...y'know, little things.
--
Rode into work this morning, single-speeding a 42/17. At first I thought I was going sooo fast 'cuz I was spinning out so easily. Then realized the legs were too tired to spin. Oh...
I circulated, moved around. Sometime in lap 4-5 I was on the front. Thereafter tried to "float" to the back. Overfloated and practiced sprinting to catch onto the back again, yo-yoed for a couple laps. Recovered enough to take a little dig on the 3rd-to-last lap, got space with one other guy...and couldn't hold it. Subsequently got dropped on the last lap and did not contest the finish, but easily guessed the winner of the bunch sprint.
List of things to improve:
--cornering at speed without going waaaay wide
--maintaining speed through corners
--strength
--endurance
...y'know, little things.
--
Rode into work this morning, single-speeding a 42/17. At first I thought I was going sooo fast 'cuz I was spinning out so easily. Then realized the legs were too tired to spin. Oh...
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
The doctors should stick those needles up their a$$es
This started as a reply to a comment on this blog before taking on a life of its own, in response to an editorial in the science journal Nature posing the possibility of doping-legal sports.
One counter-argument to the idea that sports could or should progress towards allowing "enhancements" as a modernization is that allowing "enhancements" might turn the sport into a contest of doctors rather than a contest of athletes.
Cynics have pointed out that the best-funded teams also seem to have the largest medical staffs. A friend's brother is a Euro pro and he was busted for using EPO due to high hematocrit: he couldn't microdose because he didn't have anyone to smuggle it over the border for him, let alone set up a dosing regime, so he had to use a large injection before a stage race and before the end his hematocrit had spiked. Others with more staff had help and could manage their hematocrit to be consistently in the high 40's.
(The suspension didn't do wonders for his career: his team (who had been "helpful", shall we say) canned him and he found himself persona non grata for a while. I believe he's still racing, cleanly I hope--I think he found a level he could compete at without "enhancement", but he ain't gonna be playing with the Protour boys much ever.)
Anyway, back to the doctors thing: if the biggest teams are paying for the best "medical assistance", they're not getting their money's worth: T-Mobile, Astana, and Saunier Duval have pretty big budgets (Cofidis less so) and they're the ones getting busted. Perhaps the lower expectations laid upon, say, AG2R or Francaise des Jeux or Gerolsteiner are enough to allow them to run clean(er) programs.
Is it simply a romantic notion that cycling (or any other sport) should be drug-free? I think a major difference between cycling and other professional sports is the intermingling of professional and amateur athletes: how many amateur racers have participated in a Pro/1/2(.../3... maybe /4...) race? Well, thousands. If doping is to be legal, I guess it would be legal for amateurs too, or else those Pro/1/2+ races would be silly. But that raises an even uglier spectre than the commonly held view of the present situation that there are amateur idiots already doping on the sly. Can you imagine bike conversations held post-legalization? Rather than "how often are you doing interval workouts? How hard?"*, would you want to discuss "how many injections are you doing? What dose?" Bike geek conversations are geeky enough without being medically geeky too.
Other sports, in my view, do far more to isolate their professional ranks from the amateurs--I'm not aware of too many guys playing full-contact football after college. Drug tests for any of the "Big 4" sports are a non-issue, not that I think any of them are clean (and American football, both college and pro, gets the biggest raised eyebrows from me). At first glance, I wouldn't be worried if football, or baseball, or basketball, decided that "enhacement" wasn't a problem--they're businesses, and bigger bangs, faster plays, etc. are what they're need to supply. The inevitable fallout would be the knock-on effects as the pressure to dope at the college and high school levels would be too great.
So, as romantic and impractical and backward-looking an opinion as it may be, I do not think that "enhancements" should be legalized for athletes at any level. Medicine should not concern itself with improvement of human stock; its mission is to address need, not want. I'm sure Doctors Without Borders would appreciate the donation of $50,000 that an athlete or team has paid in order to get someone across a line half a second faster and do far more to "enhance" the quality of life of many individuals. If or when doctors follow the demands of the free market and pursue "enhancement", my view is that they are no longer practicing medicine and their peers should expel them.
*haven't done an interval workout yet; clearly, not working on them very hard
One counter-argument to the idea that sports could or should progress towards allowing "enhancements" as a modernization is that allowing "enhancements" might turn the sport into a contest of doctors rather than a contest of athletes.
Cynics have pointed out that the best-funded teams also seem to have the largest medical staffs. A friend's brother is a Euro pro and he was busted for using EPO due to high hematocrit: he couldn't microdose because he didn't have anyone to smuggle it over the border for him, let alone set up a dosing regime, so he had to use a large injection before a stage race and before the end his hematocrit had spiked. Others with more staff had help and could manage their hematocrit to be consistently in the high 40's.
(The suspension didn't do wonders for his career: his team (who had been "helpful", shall we say) canned him and he found himself persona non grata for a while. I believe he's still racing, cleanly I hope--I think he found a level he could compete at without "enhancement", but he ain't gonna be playing with the Protour boys much ever.)
Anyway, back to the doctors thing: if the biggest teams are paying for the best "medical assistance", they're not getting their money's worth: T-Mobile, Astana, and Saunier Duval have pretty big budgets (Cofidis less so) and they're the ones getting busted. Perhaps the lower expectations laid upon, say, AG2R or Francaise des Jeux or Gerolsteiner are enough to allow them to run clean(er) programs.
Is it simply a romantic notion that cycling (or any other sport) should be drug-free? I think a major difference between cycling and other professional sports is the intermingling of professional and amateur athletes: how many amateur racers have participated in a Pro/1/2(.../3... maybe /4...) race? Well, thousands. If doping is to be legal, I guess it would be legal for amateurs too, or else those Pro/1/2+ races would be silly. But that raises an even uglier spectre than the commonly held view of the present situation that there are amateur idiots already doping on the sly. Can you imagine bike conversations held post-legalization? Rather than "how often are you doing interval workouts? How hard?"*, would you want to discuss "how many injections are you doing? What dose?" Bike geek conversations are geeky enough without being medically geeky too.
Other sports, in my view, do far more to isolate their professional ranks from the amateurs--I'm not aware of too many guys playing full-contact football after college. Drug tests for any of the "Big 4" sports are a non-issue, not that I think any of them are clean (and American football, both college and pro, gets the biggest raised eyebrows from me). At first glance, I wouldn't be worried if football, or baseball, or basketball, decided that "enhacement" wasn't a problem--they're businesses, and bigger bangs, faster plays, etc. are what they're need to supply. The inevitable fallout would be the knock-on effects as the pressure to dope at the college and high school levels would be too great.
So, as romantic and impractical and backward-looking an opinion as it may be, I do not think that "enhancements" should be legalized for athletes at any level. Medicine should not concern itself with improvement of human stock; its mission is to address need, not want. I'm sure Doctors Without Borders would appreciate the donation of $50,000 that an athlete or team has paid in order to get someone across a line half a second faster and do far more to "enhance" the quality of life of many individuals. If or when doctors follow the demands of the free market and pursue "enhancement", my view is that they are no longer practicing medicine and their peers should expel them.
*haven't done an interval workout yet; clearly, not working on them very hard
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