Handlebar to Handlebar at 30mph

“Let me get the door for you Premium Rush,” my witty coworker greeted me as I wheeled my Niner mountain bike off the elevator and into my office.  I work at a radio station full of clever creatives.  I get it all the time.  I have to say, it made me chuckle.  He was the morning show host of our sister station.  After a day at work making commercials, in anticipation of a 6 hour race this weekend, I had planned to hit the dirt of Versailles State Park for a fast pre-ride yesterday.  Maybe his comment was a premonition, because I never made it to Versailles.  The day turned out to be a rush, but I rolled with it.

In bike racing things rarely go as planned.  Anywhere else it’s ugly old adversity, we call it the beauty of the sport.  Fitness, finesse, courage are balanced with luck, mechanics and nature.  We add grams to our side of the scale by learning, through experience, to put ourselves in the best possible position to succeed.  If that doesn’t work, there’s always a plan b.  We look ahead.  Calm, we find clear-headed serenity handlebar to handlebar at 30mph.  We note which wheels to trust, which to avoid.  We learn to read breakaways, counting the riders and teams up the road, anticipating who will attempt to bridge or bring them back.  We put wheels in the pit and pack a tube.  We pre-ride mountain bike courses to know ahead of time where we’ll need to lay down the power and where we can afford to coast and reach back into the jersey pocket for a GU.  Those same adaptive skills transfer into everyday life.  I’m convinced, athletes make better employees.

So between projects, with my mountain bike blurred out of focus in the shadow of my computer monitor, I checked the Hoosier Mountain Bike Assn. website waiting for a “green light” on the trails at Versailles State Park.  After a brief, but heavy rain the evening before, the trail status was a cautionary “yellow,” but with a warm less humid day to dry, I hoped it would change over 24 hours.  Plan B, was to make the 7pm mountain bike time-trail at England-Idlewild Park only 20 minutes from work.  Back and forth I went, mixdown Adobe Audition session to stereo 128Kbps 44100Hz mp3, check trail status.  “It’s pretty light commercial-wise here today,” I let slip to a coworker. 

Knocking on wood is bullshit paranoia.  What’s real and true is that if you ever let your lips slip out loud about how you haven’t had a flat tire in months; you will get a flat tire within the day.  Can a bike brotha get a “truth” high-five?  Smack!  A similar law applies at work.  Never mention how easy it is, a challenge demon lurks under the mixing board waiting to pounce at your words.

At 4:30pm the demon, or our chief engineer, crashed the computer.  Not my computer, THE COMPUTER.  The computer that holds every song, every commercial, and every jingle on every single one of four radio stations, took a big electronic demonic dump.  With no music or commercials, the DJ’s scrambled for words live on the air.  They filled with traffic, weather, and entertainment news, anything while someone grabbed some CDs. 

From the frantic rumble of voices in the hallway outside the main studio, my boss cracked the door to my studio directly across the hall.  “We’re going to miss some commercials,” she said.  As calm as if I were handlebar to handlebar at 30mph, I told her I had already notified the department that does the scheduling and was in the process of seeing if my system was operational.  Over the next 2 ½ hours we reverted to back up and re-did all the commercials since the last back-up on Monday. 

Right around the time the computer was restored, my wife texted that she was leaving for her ride, alone.  Bummed, I checked the HMBA website again.  Still yellow.  I looked at the clock, nearly 7pm.  It’d be fruitless to drive an hour only to be turned around by muddy trails.  Completely outfitted for a mountain bike ride, but too late to make the time trial, I rushed home by 7:20pm.  I left the Niner in the car, switched into my road shoes, jumped on my road bike and pedaled up to the local crit at Cincinnati's Ault Park.  A friend pinned the number on my back at 7:52pm, and by 8:01pm I was at peace at my first road race of the season, handlebar to handlebar at 30mph.

Your #Strava Ride Titles Need Serious Attention

Just A Bit Disappointed

Some of you need a Strava kick in the pants.  I follow 96 of you on Strava, and I have to say in a high pitched and tiny John Stewart voice, “I’m a little disappointed.”  No.  No.  No.  Don’t get me wrong.  You’re riding long and strong.  I occasionally show my mom your PR’s and KOM because I’m so proud of you.  I use your ride maps as wallpaper on my PC.  However, if your Strava was a report card, you’d be getting an NA.  I’m talking to you Mr. April 7^th 2013 and 11 other friends with the same lame-o sad trombone date as your activity title.  Your ride titles lack artistic value. 

April 7th Is Jackie's Birthday

If this were figure skating I’d give you a 2.3 out of a possible 10.  A dozen rides (out of 47) in my feed yesterday were titled with the intriguing prose of, “04/07/2013.”  Maybe April 7^th was a date of monumental importance.  It was Jackie Chan’s Birthday!  Regardless of how much you like Kung Fu, we need to do something about this bout of lameness you’re passing off as a social media experience.  No kudos for you.  Either that or I need to understand why so many people titled their workout activity from Sunday as, “04/07/2013.”  Certainly you all didn’t do the same ride.  Certainly something of note had to happen.  Certainly you saw, heard, felt or smelled something interesting.

So as a creative person this leaves me no option to make assumptions about Lou’s 1.7 mile run titled “April 7^th, 2013.”  Since the map is cut off near Hyde Park Square and the minutes per mile are on the slow side, I wonder if he really ran his Strava app on a walk to get Graeter’s Ice Cream and tried to pass it off as a run.  Who runs 1.7 miles?  Someone hungry for Black Raspberry Chocolate Chip, that’s who!  As a journalist it makes me inquire a bit further to get the real dirt. 

Who Does That?

So I clicked on the map of Mike’s 33.7 mile ride also titled “April 7^th, 2013” and saw that he went up two dead end roads.  Wha huh?!  The gig is up Mikey!  Maybe I’ll have to check out Bluecut and Deeprun Lanes off of Pipewell Lane which is a turn off of Given Road in Cincinnati’s hoidy toidy Indian Hill neighborhood.  What are you trying to hide?  Do you have a secret segment you’re saving for yourself?  Do you deliver produce to the wealthy on your bike?  Are you a Russian spy?

My buddy Scott rode 21.4 miles on his ride, also titled “April 7^th, 2013.”  He’s in Jacksonville, Florida.  Upon further inspection he rode on Race Track Road which is just east of what appears to be a pretty little water inlet.  I wonder if he saw a crocodile, got scared and rode home accounting for the short ride, and a third best time on the Flora Branch segment.

You’re not getting any Kudos from me until you step up your name game.  You wouldn’t post the date as your Facebook status.  I know cyclists are non-chest-thumping anti-social introverts by nature, but you need to do better.  Chris got Kudos from me for piquing my interest.  He named his ride “Clockwork Orange (x4)."  Was he comparing the ride to a disturbing tale of England in the totalitarian future?  Turns out it’s a clever way to say he rode the Orange loop at Harbin Park four times clockwise.  Bravo!

Courtesy of Chris on Ride to Bagdad, PA

“Sunday’s Are For Bailing,” was a favorite title from April 7^th, 2013.  Looks like Jamie got to the top of the Marshall climb and called it a day.  I can relate.  It’s a long lonely hour ride back home from there if you’re spent.  “Zanesfield RR-Rode Like Schleck,” said all I needed to know from Jason.  “Bagdad!”  That title came from my cross coach Chris.  After seeing a photo of one of the washed out roads he encountered somewhere around Pittsburg I thought I knew what he was talking about.  It looked like a war zone.  Turns out he discovered the town of Bagdad, PA.  “Walking For A Cupcake,” made me smile.  That came from my wife.  Someone gave me vegan cupcakes at work and she knew I’d be bringing them home.

I’m not looking for a ride description as a follower of yours on Strava.  I can see you rode 50 miles.  I know it was windy.  I’m looking for you to share a slice of your life.  Take your eyes off your Garmin.  Check if that Kentucky farm dog has all four legs.  Was that really a pair of panties on the side of the road?  Open up those ears to the songs of the birds.  Take a big whiff of that Kentucky tobacco farm.  Tell me about it.  Take a few tips from me.  Here are my last few ride titles: “70. Solo. Shaboberle. Spent.  Stinky.,” My Stuffed Pockets Were Swinging Like Double D’s in a Tank Top So I Stopped At BioWheels To Buy A Saddlebag,” and, “Ludlow KY Smells Like Fried Chicken.”  If you need help, click here and follow The Best Bike Blog Ever on Strava.

We’re riding bikes people.   It’s fun and exciting.  There’s always something worth noting beyond the obvious.  Show it.  Share it.  I’ll give you Kudos.  Promise.

#STRAVA Making Monuments-Killing KOMs

The automatic door shooshed opened and the peloton raced in backward through the checkout.  Paper and plastic bags were tossed in the air and fell like confetti.  A shopping cart crashed into an end-of-aisle display.  They flew around a 99 cent bin of Easter Candy and screamed down aisle five in search of STRAVA Glory, the segment between the pickles and paper towels. 

The Madonna is Always Watching

Redonkulous you say?  Click here and check out this STRAVA segment on a 33 foot rise over two-tenths of a mile on a sliver of neighborhood bike path by a Church in the Cincinnati suburb of Fairfax, which sees more than its fair share of shopping carts and strollers.  If only for safety, but not excluding stupidity, it’s obvious some STRAVA segments shouldn’t be segments.  Before STRAVA existed, I’ve seen guys go up in front lawns on group ride sprints…glory that lasted less than hours.  Madonna del Ghisallo only knows what will happen with eternal STRAVA glory at stake. 

The Original KOM

It’s also obvious, like the well worn Galbraith Road climb on Cincinnati’s east side and the Cleves Time Trial Route on the West side, some segments should be upgraded to Monumental status.  You see before STRAVA existed, there were KOM's.  Yes.  They in fact were wood, wooden monuments of eternal achievement.  I’m pretty certain Ned Overend’s times are still posted on painted wooden signs along the trail up to Sandia Peak outside of Albuquerque, NM.  Now, that’s a monument.  Every locality should have a few and they should be much more spectacular than a neighborhood bike path.

If you’re not in the know, STRAVA is the Lemon Poppy Seed Clif Bar of cycling applications for smart phones and GPS.  It's that addicting.  STRAVA allows users to compete over certain stretches of road and trail for virtual kudos.  It also provides mapping and useable training tools.  If you are a user, don’t be gun-shy about visiting the page for a segment, clicking the “Flag” button and marking it as dangerous or plain ol' goofy.

I’ve had GPS and STRAVA for maybe a month and already I’m exhausted with the amount of segments, segments on neighborhood bike paths, segments in parks, segments with multiple stoplights, segments on the rises of bridges over the Ohio River.  For GPS’s sake, there are even segments within segments.  What we need is a STRAVA Grand Poobah, a King of the KOM’s.  But this is the age of the social network, where peer groups rule the sway.  If I sat down at the STRAVA board room, say as part of their cycling marketing team, here are a few ideas I’d toss out before clipping in for the noon lunch ride in San Francisco. 

When creating a cycling segment, a user should be prompted with a note:

Segments should be uninterrupted without stop signs, stop lights or unmarked intersections.  Unless it is a King of Skid (KOS) contest, segments should not end with a stop light, stop sign or intersection, but rather fall short with enough distance for safe stopping.  Segments should have a 0% chance of having a stroller, a child on a tricycle, somebody using a walker, or a stoned creepy dude walking in its path. 

No virtual KOM crowns or medals should be awarded on segments.  

Ba bam!  While there is a leaderboard for segments and personal bests awarded, KOM crowns and medals will be reserved for a new type of segment called Monuments.  Insert sound of heavenly choir music here.  Positions on basic segment leaderboards last for 1 year and then disappear. 

Beyond Segments, there should be Monuments.  

These are the hardest climbs, hottest contested sprint segments and well known time trial routes.  Based on population, geography or square mileage, maybe each county is allowed a limited number of Monuments of STRAVA.  I think Cincinnati’s Hamilton county could get by with 4, 2 Climbs and 2 Time Trial Monuments.  This is where KOM and podiums are awarded and they are forever.  Imagine vising a city, renting a bike and hitting the local STRAVA Monuments.  That’s pure STRAVA genius.  My resume is on Linked-In.