The Cog Blog

Last night I left work later than planned, rushed home on the Big Dummy, frantically changed clothes, kissed Cassandra and Hale hello/goodbye, and jumped on the mountain bike. I rolled out of the driveway around 6:00 pm, leaving a little more than 2 hours of sunlight before twilight set in.

It had been about 5 days since I’d managed to get a good ride in, thanks to work, travel, and a hellaciously long night of painting the house. I thought that, because of the break, my legs would be dead.

I was wrong.

In fact, I think they definitely enjoyed the recovery period. As I was warming up on the 4-mile road ride to the trail head, I glanced down at the cyclometer and was posting 20.3 mph. But that couldn’t be right . . . I was just starting to break a light sweat and wasn’t even close to working hard. Check the gearing, check my cadence, do some mental arithmetic, and, sure enough, it seemed to be correct. Hm.

Once I hit the trail, the story was the same. I felt great and posted some of my best lap times this season, but felt like I was hardly pushing. 23 miles later, I turned for home and again held 20 mph on the roads without much effort.

It was a great reminder that I have a tendency to over train. Despite claiming that I’m looking for a base prior to intervals or targeted training, I ALWAYS push when I’m on the bike. I’ve been riding enough lately that my legs apparently haven’t been able to fully recover, underscoring the importance of quality rest period every 3 or 4 weeks.

Of course, you should do as I say and not as I do. I’m riding again tonight . . .

I’ve been a bad blogger, but a good cyclist.

My world has been a bit hectic, between working an office job, being a dad and husband, preparing for the launch of CogAndChain.com, and trying to squeeze in bike rides and workouts in the odd bits of free time. Regrettably, that hasn’t left much time at all for writing about the journey of training.

The great news is that I’ve been averaging 4 rides per week at the local trail, each between 25 and 40 miles, plus the 8 mile, round trip commute to work and the odd trips throughout the week. All told, I’m easily logging 150 miles per week when it’s all added up.

The down side, of course, is that I don’t have time to put in the REAL base that I’m craving. I have this insatiable desire to spend a month churning out 60 and 80 miles rides every day, but the time and the bank account won’t allow it. I suppose that’s always the recreational cyclists dilemma – we want to ride more, but can’t afford to, either in time or money.

At least it means that I’m craving the experience of riding. Looking forward to something that intensely, even if it’s just a 20 minute ride home from work, gives me a positive sense of excitement. During the most boring and tedious meetings and conference calls, a brief thought of the view from the saddle is the ultimate revival.

So, you may not see my weekly training logs as planned. But I’ll write more about each ride, outline my training schedule for the upcoming months, and talk bikes as often as I can.

Congratulations to Seth Hildebrand on his second place finish in the 30-39 CAT 3 wave at Logansport today! Seth will be one of the Chain Gang Racers next season and I suspect that he’ll be in CAT 2 if his performance today is any indication.

My race, unfortunately, wasn’t quite as stellar as Seth’s. The first 7 miles were clean on the trusty single speed 29er . . . until it wasn’t so trusty. As I started my second lap and came up to the ledges above the quarry, a retaining bolt that holds my drive-side sliding rear drop out departed the bicycle. The next hill that I charged caused the drive side of the rear wheel to walk forward until the tire rubbed the chain stay and I came to a grinding halt. I fixed it pretty quickly with my tool kit and pushed on. For a few hundred yards, at least. Then the same thing happened on the next hill.

By the third time, I decided there wasn’t much point and walked it back to the pits. I just couldn’t get enough torque on the one remaining bolt with my multi-tool to keep the sliding drop out from moving forward. In hindsight, I could have stolen a bolt from the non-drive side and finished the race. I don’t think the non-drive side would have walked because it isn’t under the same stress as the drive side . . . but it’s too late now. In fact, I quite literally thought of that solution as we pulled back into the garage this afternoon. WAY too little, WAY too late.

I also learned how difficult it is to compete on a single-speed without a single-speed division. On the Logansport course, I held my own just fine in the single track sections, but people walked away from me on the open fire roads. They dropped to a higher gear and cruised in front of me while I spun 100 or 120 RPM without the gearing to get more from the bike. Unfortunately, the single track sections were too tight to pass in a lot of cases, so I’d have to ride the rear wheel of the guy in front of me instead of passing – until we hit fire roads and he’d shoot ahead again.

Granted, I rode pretty well on the SS up until it quit working, but my overall time wouldn’t have had an asterisk with a “Single speed” note. But, come to think of it, my DNF doesn’t say “Mechanical,” either.

The lessons learned were the usual. You can only do what you can do and learn from your mistakes. I’ll be shopping for a geared race-rig shortly and hope to have it before the Copper Harbor Fat Tire Festival in Michigan over the Labor Day weekend. Because I HATE not being competitive . . .

Until the next race, I’ll be training like a fiend and planning to finish!

As time dissolves and Sunday’s race gets closer, I find myself thinking about what it really means to compete. After all, aside from a few 5ks and a half marathon, it’s been almost 6 years since I was involved in truly competitive athletics. Why do I want to return? What is it that drives me?

Even more importantly, what does it mean to compete? Am I in the throes of a midlife crisis at 31? Or am I after something greater, some higher meaning?

I’ve thought long and hard about all of those questions and find that they share a single answer. I simply have a desire to do the best that I can do at something that’s measurable. I’ve been a sea kayak guide, a professional photographer, a commercial pilot, a carpenter, and a corporate workaholic, but how good was I at any of those things? The answers are all subjective. But as soon as you include a stopwatch, the results are measurable, quantitative, and clear.

So what does that mean for Sunday? I’ll be racing on a single speed mountain bike in the flatlands of Indiana. The world won’t be different for it. I won’t become famous or rich. But I’ll know how well I’ve done and if I pushed myself as hard as I can be pushed.

I’m preparing my mental game, thinking about what I need to do to be my best. How long can I suffer? How long can I push my body past the moment that it wants to quit. For Sunday, the answer only needs to be an hour. For the 24 hour races I’m targeting next season, the answer is a day. But, mentally, there’s only one goal – forever. No matter how much it hurts, how tired I am, or how hard it is to move the pedals, I must go on forever. Otherwise, I lose.

So, this Sunday, I cannot and will not quit. I’m still searching for a real race bike for next year, but even on the single speed I can accomplish my own best. And that’s what it’s really all about.

It’s been a great week of riding and I’m feeling stronger and faster in leaps and bounds. My first Indiana race is next Sunday and I don’t think there’s much more I can do to prepare other than eat, rest, and keep my legs spinning until then.

This evening I went to Town Run – again – for three laps. The first two were fine, but I took them fairly easy. The last lap was a bit faster, with me pushing the single speed as fast as I could. There were a few slow moments with other riders and one whoops! on a technical section, but overall it was a pretty representative lap. When it was all said and done, my average speed was exactly 15 mph. Not bad at all, I’d say! Especially on a fully rigid single speed!

I’ll be heading up to Logansport on Saturday to check out the course and get a few laps in before the race. Come Sunday morning, I’ll be working hard! I’ll post the results when I get home Sunday night.

It will be interesting to see what happens on the single speed. If I had a geared bike, I’d jump into Cat 2, but on the SS, I’m going to hit Cat 3. I just don’t know how that will affect my time and speed compared to everyone else . . .

Monday: The standard 8-mile commute, plus two laps a town run for a total of 30.5.

Tuesday: 8 miles to work and back.

Wednesday: 8 for work, then three laps at Town Run for 39 miles in the day.

Thursday: 9 commuting miles, then a lot of sitting at the computer, working on CogAndChain.com. No trails tonight.

Friday: 8 commuting miles, then a lot of sitting at the . . . well, you get the point. Can’t wait for the weekend rides!

Saturday: It was blistering hot and I rode mid-day, so I cut my ride down to two laps at Town Run. Total distance was 22.5.

Sunday: Still way hot. Same ride as yesterday, another 22.5 miles.

Weekly total: 138 miles

As I roll through the second week of dedicated training, I’m quite happy with the amount of riding and training I’ve managed to squeeze in. Striking the balance between work, fatherhood, and riding is definitely going to be one of the biggest challenges.

Cassandra has been extremely supportive and we’ve agreed to split our weekly evenings. Monday and Wednesday nights, I ride and she takes Hale. Tuesday and Thursday nights, I take Hale and she goes to the gym. Fridays are family night and we both stay home with Hale. If I’m not too burned from the Monday and Wednesday evening rides, I can sneak out early in the morning on Tuesday and Thursday before work . . . while we have daylight. If I don’t ride in the mornings on Tuesday and Thursday, I’ll do weight work or plyometrics in the evening after my son goes to bed.

It’s going to be difficult to work everything in once the days are short. Based on the timing of everything, I think I’ll be butting heads with darkness in another 4 to 6 weeks. I haven’t decided if I’ll try to ride the roads mid-day during lunch, ride morning or evening with lights, or move indoors to a spin trainer. The frustrating detail is that our only local mountain bike trail, Town Run, is closed dusk to dawn, which means I’ll only be able to hit the dirt on weekends.

At least I’m assured of 8 miles everyday on my commute. It’s not much, but it’s something!

This week was the perfect example of what happens when you’re a husband, parent, home owner, and career professional trying to train for a competitive sport. I managed to get in a number of good workouts, but it wasn’t as intense or long as I’d hoped.

Sunday: An evening ride at Town Run. Only one lap for a total of 15.5 miles, including the ride to the trail head.

Monday: An 8-mile commute. No time for anything else.

Tuesday: An 8-mile commute, plus a core and chest routine.

Wednesday: An 8-mile commute and two laps at Town Run after work. The Town Run ride totaled 22.5 miles, for a daily total of 30.5.

Thursday: An 8-mile commute, followed by an hour of plyometrics targeting my legs. Ouch!

Friday: It was a family travel day, with Cassandra, Hale, and me headed for Cass’s family reunion in Newaygo, Michigan. As a result, it was just the normal, 8-mile commute to work and back.

Saturday: 30 mile mountain bike ride. While in Michigan, I rode the single-speed 29er on some beautiful two-track fire roads with rolling, sandy hills. Total time was just about spot on at 2 hours for an average speed of 15 miles per hour. I could have been much faster with a bigger gear on the downhills and a smaller gear on the ups, but the single speed gave me a great workout. I’m also a big fan of the fully rigid frame for this kind of workout. It really hones my bike handling and pedaling efficiency.

Sunday: Before heading home for Indiana, I rode a quick 10-miles on the SS 29er. Same fire roads as yesterday. It was just enough to get my legs warmed up and loose. I knew it would be short, so I hit the hills as hard as possible. There was also a top-secret bit of racing, but that’s a story for another day.

Total miles: 118

I’m serious about this. I mean really serious!

But that doesn’t mean a thing unless I actually have some kind of plan. Saying that I want to become a competitive cyclist is one thing – doing is the hard part.

My approach – which is subject to change, mind you – is a lot like the approach I took when I was a competitive runner. The first step is to build a base. No fancy workouts. No hill intervals. No sprinting. No circuit repeats. No max-effort pushes.

Instead, I’ll ride a lot with no goal other than to put miles under the wheels. I’ll push when I feel like it and cruise when I don’t. To make things interesting, I’ll throw in a few races before the end of the season, but won’t expect to do well because I won’t have targeted my performance for those events.

The mileage base will do 3 things. First, it will acclimate my body to being on the bike under effort. Bike commuting has been great, but it’s a far cry from training for competition. I’m about to call on a lot of muscles and ligaments, and I want to give them some time to answer before I ask them to shout. The worst thing that I can think of is getting injured by pushing too hard, too soon.

Next, the base will help establish my endurance. I want my heart, lungs, and blood supply to get used to long, sustained efforts that are friendly and cuddly before I push them. I’ll start pushing it when my aerobic and muscular capacity are in synch.

Finally, the base is going to give me the opportunity to get into the game mentally. I don’t want to go out with rediculous expectations and fail immediately. Instead, I want to know that this is going to take a bit of time and lot of effort.

So, for now, it’s long, frequent rides, targeted upper and lower body weight work, and serious core development with a few races thrown in for fun. It will probably last through the fall, when I’ll switch to a loooong distance mode for winter on the bike when possible and a Spin trainer when the weather is truly miserable. As soon as Spring is sprung, I’ll start ramping up for the specific races and events that I’ve targeted, using a combination of intervals, distance, form training, and recovery to ensure that I’m ready for peak performance on key dates.

Look for the weekly training summary post on Monday nights!

And here it comes. Another pretentious blog, full of some stranger’s ramblings that are important to exactly nobody. I wish I could tell you otherwise, but I can’t. Nothing I write here will change the world. If you read it, good. If you don’t, I’ll be perfectly okay. But, importance and social worth aside, I hope that this will be fun.

I’ve lived just over 31 years and have spent most of that time surrounding myself with things I love. Family and friends. Learning and knowledge. Our amazing world. Sea kayaking, aviation, photography, telemark skiing . . . and cycling. Ah, the bike. For a tinkering, mechanical, exercise and adventure fanatic, there’s no better invention. In a fit of ecological responsibility, I’ve recently become reaquainted with my bikes and am now a dedicated bike commuter, driving my Subaru very, very rarely. I even got a Surly Big Dummy so I have fewer excuses not to ride.

And I’ve loved it.

I wake up in the morning and can’t wait to ride my bike to work. I work all day and can’t wait to ride home. I get home and try to come up with reasons to go out again – on the bike. All of that bike-love got me thinking: If I love it that much, why am I not doing it more?

Responsibility! Career! Being grown up! Bikes are childs’ toys!

Bah.

What’s the point in living if we don’t enjoy every minute. Next to curling up with my wife on the couch or having my son cuddle in my lap before he falls asleep, riding a bike brings me the most joy. So I’m going to do it more. I’ll still use cycling as my primary mode of transportation. I’ll still come home wanting to go back out and ride again. But I’m also going to find out what happens when a 31-year-old bike lover decides to train. Hard.

How good can I get? Can I make a living riding, writing about, and photographing bikes? What will happen when I try?

This self-absorbed blog is that story in real-time. It’s day 1. I rode to work. I rode home. And tomorrow is a new beginning.