Going to Uranus? Hire a Coach

I'm Drunk and I'm Skinny!

He knows bourbon.  Like the Southern Comfort on a canoe trip in my youth where I never actually paddled the boat, I will never drink it again.  While Southern Comfort made me spend a beautiful blue sky Wisconsin summer day lying in a gravel parking lot along the Crystal River, Bourbon made me shout at Sven Nys, “I’m drunk and I’m skinny!”  Then it made me spend the night laying on the bathroom tile after the Cyclocross World Championships in Louisville.  Bourbon is out of my league.  I don’t get it.

While he’s a virtual genius at select Kentucky beverages and can make anyone faster on a bike, he is not a Marvel super hero.  The guy I’m talking about is a lot like you or me, a person who is passionately involved in the things he loves, maybe a chromosome or two from being a full on savant.  While I’m into writing and music, can expound on the beauty of a worn sunburst Strat and tell you exactly why the new Fitz and the Tantrum’s song “Out of My League” sounds like the Cure’s “A Forest” from 1980, he is one of a handful of people that doesn’t get an itchy heat rash and headache trying to decipher a pro’s power meter graph posted on Velonews.  He knows bourbon and bike racing.  He’s my coach. 

Do I need a coach?  Yes.  Yes I do.  Take these awesome blue suede pointy shoes I got from Banana Republic.  You want to touch them don’t you?  Don’t get your oily fingers on them.  Just know they feel like the silky top of a cat’s head.  Purrr.  For you, maybe they’re not your bag, hipster dufus material.  They’ll likely be at the outlet store in November.  I need them.  For me, working in an industry like pop radio, where the feeling of youth and cool is part of the product, these shoes help me, a middle aged creative, stay in touch with fashion and trends, the same qualities that our listeners hold dear.  Your frugal cycling side may see an unwarranted expense.  I admit.  I do feel a bit out of my skin as I wrestle them on with a shoe horn in the morning, but I see it sort of as an investment.  The second I lose sight of or fail to be directly involved in what our listeners hold dear, like (egads!) an appreciation for Miley Cyrus, I may be looking for a job at the oldies station.

It makes me want to get a fake ID to actually lower my age, but I’ve been racing and ridiculously involved in cycling for longer than most juniors have been alive.  For God’s sake, there’s a 1991 Breezer Thunder in our bike stable, and that’s not even the vintage one in my book.  Every one of those juniors should know who Joe Breeze is.  I own a truing stand.  In my junior aged days, I circumnavigated Waukesha County on a bike with down-tube shifters and a boombox strapped to my front rack blaring “The Who.”  I’ve come back from ACL reconstruction surgery where my wife had to help me as I grunted attempting a single leg lift.  You’d think I’d know it all by now: training, mechanics, skills, speed, and history.  Yet, I have a coach. 

I look at having a coach like a trip to Uranus.  You might troll the boneyard next to the airport for parts, camp out in the science section of the library and actually build a rockin’ 1978 VW shaped spaceship, but you’re not going to feel the soft pale Uranus dirt between your toes without a little input from say perhaps…an actual rocket scientist.  The main reason I have a coach is so someone, a certified cycling dork, is vested as a shareholder in team Joe.  It’s no different than having a personal mentor or work consultant.  I could go pretty far on my own, perhaps land that VW mothership in a swimming pool the next county over and be on TMZ.  But, like those swanky blue shoes, my coach will take me where I’ve never been before...to Uranus.  

His name is Chris Mayhew.  Learn more about him at the JBV Coaching Website.

It’s NOT Dirty: Lapped While Lapping Another

The King of Justifying the Mediocre...Courtesy Karen WH

Like old latex sealant fermented and stewing in a year old tubular, getting lapped stinks.  There is, however, a shiny new bike bright side.  Ding!  For those sha-lacka-lacka-lacking their non-elite races and wondering about how’d they’d possibly be able to stomach struggling to stay on the lead lap in the next higher category, read on.  I am the king of justifying the mediocre!  Let me show you how to rationalize and make the most of the -1 next to your name.  

The Zero Principal:

For example, getting lapped by the leader but simultaneously lapping someone else cancels each other out.  -1 + 1 = zero.  Shazam!  You’re even, mathematically, on the lead lap (of your competition).  Think of it like being graded on a bell curve, drop the first and last rider and you passed!  Getting lapped while lapping someone else also sounds sort of dirty.

This year’s OVCX Elite field is way harder than it’s ever been.  As the PR guy for OVCX, I partly blame myself for this.  My freelance job for OVCX is to entice more people to dip their knobbies in the goodness of cross.  Consequently, my writing and riding talents counter each other.  The harder I race, the better I do.  The better I write, the worse I do. 

St. Mary’s Child Care Cross (OVCX #2) was a great example.  Looking at the results, friggin’ Chris Uberti raced cross yesterday.  Friggin’ Chris Uberti finished 19^th.  Pretty sure Friggin’ Chris Uberti is getting free pants because word on the street is he signed with Team Mountain Khakis last week.  Friggin’ Chris Uberti reads this blog.  Friggin’ coincidence?  I THINK NOT! 

What have I done and where are MY free pants? 

I finished 45th yesterday, sadly my “grey beard” racing age.  I also was lapped by the leader Josh Johnson.  Yet somehow I was able to text my wife after the race with the good news: 

“45^th out of like 70ish not too shabby, better than last week’s 53rd…only 1 guy (neo-pro) lapped me.  LOL.  Rode well.  Felt Good.  So good day in all.  Be home 8pish.  XOXO.”

The bright side of my race is that I finished 7 places higher than last week and I actually lapped someone else.  Sadly it was my own teammate, but whatever.  I’ll take it Brian.  You’re the ying to my yang. 

Aside from The Zero Principal there are other ways to rationalize getting lapped.

Mechanicals Count.  Courtesy Karen WH

The DNS Natty Natty Boo Boo Bonus:

Beating those that did not start (DNS) is a bonus.  According to USA Cycling I finished 45^th out of 60 starters.  In my book, counting the ten or so no shows it was more like 45^th out of 70.  I’m counting them because I had the nards to lie to my wife and say I'd be home at 8pm when it was more like 9pm, suck up my case of the cough & sniffles, ignore my laundry, postpone my obligations and got my butt to the startline.  If someone is a no-show, you automatically beat them.  Sadly, one of my teammates didn’t show.  There was some confusion as to our carpool plans and BioWheels Steven Gers ended up staying home.  While I missed his wry wit on the drive to Indy, in my head I was one rider ahead before I even left Cincinnati.  Ba bam!

The Joey’s Okay DNFinition:

Anyone who drops out of a race (DNF) due to a mechanical, illness or injury still counts as being behind you.  Cringe.  Offer a sympathetic “you okay dude,” then carve another notch in your carbon bars.  Joey’s okay…and you beat him.  You didn’t case the barriers, you didn’t take a stake to the knuckles, your bike was set up and working beautifully.  You’re soo awesome. 

A Touch of Grey Beards courtesy Karen WH

The Grey Beard Rule:

Sure you got lapped, but if the dudes that lapped you were in a different category, it doesn’t really count.  For example, if you’re racing Masters in a combined field with Elite racers, you’re not lapped until a Grey Beard passes you.  Technically I got lapped the first week of OVCX when Masters leader Fred Rose passed me.  Yesterday with only Neo-Pro Josh Johnson getting past me, I did not.  Same goes for categories.  If you’re a cat 3 and get lapped by Cat 1 and 2 riders, you’re still golden in my book. 

The Look Like A Leader Rule:

So you got lapped fair and square, say the top 7 guys in the field gave you the “leader back” shout.  Remember to the unsuspecting spectator, you look like you finished 8^th.  Look the part.  Zip up your jersey, put your hands in the drops and roar across the finish line and own it with confidence champ!  Next week you may only get lapped by one guy and look like you finished 2^nd!  

#Thanksgiving: Getting The Bird on the Bike

Happy F'n Thanksgiving

The email from our VP read, “To help get you on your way for Thanksgiving, we’re closing the shop at 2pm on Wednesday.”  With a building full of the nerdy music weirdoes you made fun of in college, sometimes it’s hard to think of a radio station as a business, let alone a shop.  However, if you’re the creative weirdo making commercials for a 4-day Black Friday weekend on a three day work week at one of the most popular stations in town, yeah, it’s sort of like an assembly line.  Hit record, read copy, add holiday music, sprinkle with magic festive fairy dust…repeat.  The magic fairy dust is the hard part.  I was home, changed and on my bike by 3 o’clock.  My wife was out picking up “the bird.” 

In our vegan case, I’m not really sure what “the bird” is, but there are six drumsticks, …err…breasts, …hmm, …yummy looking lumpy brown things in our fridge.  They came with the Whole Foods vegan Thanksgiving dinner which also includes gravy, mashed potatoes, stuffing, green beaners and a whole apple pie.  Heat and serve.  This is our first Thanksgiving without a real turkey.  I’m not going to miss it.  I only wish Whole Foods gave us enough for leftovers.

Gardein...It's vegan for Turkey.

With temps in the 50’s and party sunny skies, I headed out to do some 30-on 30-off intervals on a hilly local route we call the Amsterdam loop.  I wasn’t about to waste a rare sunny workday afternoon in November banging out relentless intervals on a single hill.  I opted to get the work in on each of the 5 hills I’d hit on the two hour loop, recover and enjoy the descents into the Ohio River Valley.    

I was having a blast.  Traffic was light.  I knew anyone on the road was in a tizzy to get to grandma’s house, so I was being extra courteous.  I made a conscious decision not to ride up the gutter at stoplights and instead let all the cars go ahead when it changed.  I waved cars through intersections first, intent on keeping my good groove going.  On the third downhill I got my Thanksgiving bird.

A line of 4-5 cars were coming up as I was going down.  With a few twists on the blind hill, it was a double yellow.  Zip!  A black car darted out of line and hit the gas to pass headed right at me.  My fingers moved to the brakes, but seeing me, he slipped back in line just as quick.  What the hell was he thinking?  It’s a double yellow on a hill! As I passed, his bird caught my eye.  He mashed it up against the driver’s door window for the extra F-U effect.  I returned the gesture, shaking mine to match his fervor and added a smile.  Happy Thanksgiving mother effer.

So today, I give thanks for health, a wonderful wife who understands there's more time to ride if you order a pre-made dinner, blue skies, gardein and gravy, warm November afternoons and the douche bags that make it easy to write a cycling blog. 

The Manwich and 3 Other Reasons You Got Dropped

From time to time I get asked for cycling advice.  Being an expert at Radio Commercial Production, I am supremely qualified to offer opinions and guidance on all things cycling.  What more do you need?  Bike qualifications?  Well, I once jumped 23 Tonka trucks in my front yard.  What if I told you that the bunny hop was invented in my neighborhood?  It was.  In fact it was originally performed by this guy named Wambolt a few streets down from me in Menomonee Falls, WI.  Within weeks, everyone in our neighborhood was doing the Wambolt Hop.  I guess the name didn’t stick.  If you must press for credentials, I’ve worked at a bike shop.  However, don’t ask me to build a wheel or glue a tubular.  I’ve been riding bikes since I was a kid, built my first BMX bike from an old Schwinn.  As a 110 pound 8^th or 9^th grader, I circumnavigated Waukesha County WI on my first road bike, a Royce Union with a boombox blasting The Who strapped to the front rack.  I later took it apart, down the frame, and gave it the most hideous multi-colored splash-paint job you’ve ever seen.  I’m pretty sure I left it locked up outside when I graduated from a University of Wisconsin college and drove away to wonderful career in radio.  Later in the 90’s, when I first started racing I bought my first mountain bike, a yellow, made-in-Wisconsin splash-painted Trek 830.  Realizing the marketing genius of my splash paint job was precisely the moment I knew I had missed my calling and in fact was a cycling savant.

As a savant, I get questions on road cycling etiquette and how-to all the time, most of them stemming from a humbling experience where the poor soul was left sniveling and crying for mama between bouts of the pukes as their riding companions rode away to the great place where the sides of the road meet the horizon.  That said there are really only two reasons one gets dropped on a ride.  95.7% of the time you get dropped is because your either not strong enough, or did something stoopid…I mean, something that you shouldn’t have.  4.2% of the time, can actually be attributed to something else like someone crashing into you or making the smart choice to not chance darting out in front of a car to stick with the boneheads that did.  .1% of the time, you’re actually a pro that sacrificed themselves for the benefit of the team.

My gym teacher once said, “your friends won’t tell you, but I will…you stink.”  There’s two ways to stink at road cycling: either not being strong enough to ride with the bunch or just not being smart enough.  As far as strength, other than healing up, getting well, taking your allergy medicine, continually getting beat until one day you hang, or getting a coach and training...you’re on your own to HTFU.

For the rest of you that felt as if you were strong enough to “hang” with the bunch, but got dropped, obviously you did something, uh, you shouldn’t have.  If you don’t have the brawn, use your brain.  Most of the time cyclists get dropped because they put themselves in a position that could’ve been avoided.  The most common reasons I’ve seen people get dropped are as follows: Pulling The Ripcord, The Manwich, Shy Elbow Syndrome, and Cyclist Unawarus. 

PULLING THE RIP CORD

You pulled off the front just before or midway up a short roller climb.  Buh bye paratrooper.  This is the #1 reason I see people get dropped.  I’m talking about those little hills that are just tall enough to test your mettle holding the pace from the bottom to the top.  The root of the issue is that you either don’t have the legs to hold the pace to discourage others from coming around on the climb, knew you didn’t have the legs and waited too long to get off the front, or you knew you didn’t have the legs but didn’t anticipate that you would be the one that would end up on the front on the roller.  The main symptom is someone just as weak as you made it up the hill with the group. 

The truth is bikes go faster up hills, except for yours.  Know this.  The pace will get slightly harder on a hill.  It always does.  If it doesn’t, well at least you’re prepared.  You have two choices: either take a shorter pull and leave yourself room to latch onto the back BEFORE the group hits the hill.  Or, commit to grunting it out to the top fast enough to discourage people from attacking or coming around.  If you can't make that commitment, you should pull off and get to the back of the group before the climb.  Live by this rule.  The exception is the .1 percent of the time you're leading out a teammate for a KOM or a sprint, essentially sacrificing yourself. 

Avoiding getting dropped on this short hill starts a mile or more from the hill.  As a weaker rider in the bunch, you need to be smarter.  Position yourself in the paceline so you don’t end up on the front going into the hill.  You need to look ahead.  We all ride the same routes on group rides.  You know where the hills, stoplights and corners are.  You ride with the same people.  You know who’s strong.  You definitely know who’s not.  You know your bike is filled with lead.  You have all this information at your disposal.  So, make sure you’re safely tucked into the middle of the group when you get to the hill.  With the hill approaching, take a shorter pull or sit on the back to rearrange your position in the group, so you hit the hill in the middle of the group.  If you’re on the front approaching the hill, pull off leaving yourself enough time to get to the back and catch your breath before the hill. 

2)   THE MANWICH

Never, as a weaker rider, position yourself with the fastest rider in the bunch directly in front of you OR directly behind.  Avoid being the meat in the Manwich.  Instead, sandwich yourself between two riders that are only slightly stronger than you.  There’s always a hammerhead or two on every ride.  There’s always a bunch of mid-level riders in the bunch.  When one of the weaker riders is in a Manwich, directly behind or in front of one of the stronger riders, eventually the weaker rider is going to get dropped. It takes the most energy to ride on the front, it takes the 2^nd most energy to ride 2^nd wheel.  If Big Hoss Manwich is driving the front at 24mph with a heart rate of 80% and you, Skinny Legs, are behind going 24mph with a heart rate of 85%, what do you think will happen when Manwich has to dig a little deeper?  His heart rate may come close to 90%, and you, Skinny Legs, are going to hit 95% and blow.

Now imagine if Big Hoss Manwich is behind Skinny Legs.  Skinny Legs is taking a pull with their heart rate at 85%.  Skinny Legs pulls off and Big Hoss takes over.  Skinny Legs is now out in the wind by himself in the fall back lane.  Big Hoss Manwich unwittingly takes the pace up 1 or 2mph.  Skinny Legs is now left in the wind, trying to go even faster, and expending more energy than what it took just moments ago.  Goodbye Skinny Legs.

To avoid the Manwich, position yourself between two riders that are only slightly stronger than you in the paceline.  You can do this on a corner, at a stoplight, or by sitting on the back and pretending to blow your nose as you strategically wait for another wheel besides that of Big Hossman.

SHY ELBOW SYNDROME

You're staying on the front too long.  Realize that your pull at the front isn’t over till you get behind someone else.  Don't wait till you're tired, cross-eyed or drooling from all orifices to pull off the front.  You still need to ride hard until you get your draft back.  I usually say, the second you start to feel the lactic acid burn start in your legs, throw the elbow.  Sometimes that'll be a minute or two, 30 seconds, 10 seconds, or when you're traveling at warp speed, not even 1 second.  You need to save some guns (in a double paceline) to stay at the front in the fall back line till the rider behind you comes over in front of you or (if it's a single paceline) latch back onto the pack.  Do this, and you'll find you'll stick with the group longer and have more left in the tank for when it matters, like the end of the ride or the last hill.  Road riding is kind of about being selfish.  It’s tough for nice people to throw the elbow.

CYCLIST UNAWARUS

You’re not thinking ahead, way ahead, and anticipating changes in the paceline and the route.  While the Manwich refers to being more aware of who’s in front of and behind of you, and Pulling the Ripcord is about your position in the bunch going into a hill, Cyclist Unawarus has to do with being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Be aware of the route, the strengths of the riders around you, and where the optimal place in the bunch is for your survival.  If you know the pace is going to be crazy fast at a certain point, think ahead and position yourself so that you’re safely in the group at that point.  If you know the bunch is going to be strung out going through some tight corners, you don’t want to be dangling on the back through those corners.  If you’re headed into a descent, you don’t want to be behind brake monkey the whole way down.  If you’re headed into a long climb, be aware who’s in front of you.  Weaker riders will likely create a gap and cause you to lose contact with the leaders.  Keep an eye out for that gap.  Prepare to go around and close it up before it becomes insurmountable. 

Now, hopefully the only reason that you get dropped is that you just aren’t fast enough.

Kicking Television Video

All in the family I guess. My sister in law had to make a video for a class she's taking. So, here's a pretty good funny little video of my brother getting in and out of shape...and riding a bike, a circa 1991 Giant Sedona to be exact.

Getting Dropped Is Not Falling Behind

A bee in the bra is crap sister.  Having a squirrel dive through your spokes or doing a ditch dive is a little higher on the suck-o-meter.  Day-to-day, as far as trying to be a better bike racer, the thing that really haunts the deep inner cycling sanctum of my race brain is getting dropped.  If you road race, I’m sure you feel the same way.  However, I’ve discovered that new riders, more specifically riders new to road racing, aren’t afraid of the drop.  I’m here to say, it may sound barbaric, unsocial and inhumane, but I think new cyclists with intents on road racing need to get popped, dropped, and left sniveling to find their way home with darkness and diving temperatures fast approaching. 

I’ve been racing/riding a long time.  It’s rare to get dropped anymore.  I attribute that to the theory that the incredible side-splitting puking agony of trying to hang onto a fast pack of riders is far better than riding completely bonked solo in the middle of nowhere and using the direction of the setting sun to find your way home.  Getting shot is better than getting burned.

I took one of those rare wicked shellackings Sunday on Cincinnati’s Hyde Park ride.  (9am from Awakenings Coffee Shop if you’re interested)  It was one of those spring training days where mitigating circumstances came into play, a combination of a hilly beatdown the day before, practically eating only meat the night before, 20mph crosswinds and the 6 strongest riders in the city showing up on a 12 person ride.  I got flat backed in the drops, skipped pulls and sucked wheel while drooling and huffing until I finally got waxed and was off the back wheezing like a donkey nearly 2 hours from home on unfamiliar roads.  Thankfully, I wasn’t the only one who popped so I had a companion for the headwind slog back home.  As much as it sucked, I needed that apocalyptic ass whooping to keep motivated, the ego in check and things in perspective. 

Not naming names or frames, I recently rode with someone new to road cycling/racing that has no fear of the drop whatsoever.  Nada.  I’m not sure they even know what getting dropped really is.  New cyclists call it falling behind.  But, getting dropped and falling behind are two different things.  Falling behind assumes that someone will be waiting for you or that you will eventually catch up, the usual etiquette on more social group rides.  Getting dropped is falling behind without a net, the usual etiquette in road racing.  Aside from getting a bee down your jersey and getting dropped, there’s not many things worse. 

It seems cyclists who are just getting into racing aren’t afraid of getting dropped.  It troubled me at first.  When I rode with the new rider/racer, one second they’d be with us, the next moment off the back.  No warning signs like donkey wheezing, a crumpled back, sagging head, dilated pupils, numb left arm, chest grabbing.  They seemingly decided that they didn’t want to go that fast, figuratively threw up their hands and fell behind, like they weren’t afraid of being dropped and expected that they’d catch up somehow or the group would wait.  Completely perplexing to me. 

Cyclists are a kind bunch.  That’s one of the great things about it.  There’s no shortage of vets willing to lend new racers wisdom, tools, a Clif Bar, a lower-back turbo-boost push back to the group or wait at the top of the climb.  However, you can tell newbies all about drafting, pacelines and sitting on, but there’s nothing like the fear of the drop to have it all make perfect sense.  

Getting Shlecked A Letter To The Best Bike Blog Ever About The Shleck Brothers

To: The Best Bike Blog Ever

Fr: Adam (a die hard fan of The Best Bike Blog Ever*)

Re: Getting Shlecked

02/27/09

I'm giving this question to you because of your abilities as a wordsmith. If some said, "That rider just got Schlecked," what would that mean to you? It sounds kind of slanderous and humiliating. I like the sound of it.

For real,

Adam

(Frank & Andy Shleck on Alpe d'Huez)

Dearest Adam,

For real and fo shizzle, getting Shlecked is a real adverb and/or verb and it is humiliating.  There are two Shleck brothers in the pro peloton that ride for Saxo Bank, Frank and Andy.  Getting Shlecked actually dates back to the mid 1960’s.  It's a little know fact that Frank and Andy Shleck’s father, Johnny Schleck rode the Tour de France and Vuelta a España between 1965 and 1974.  While I’m not too sure on father Johnny, Frank and Andy are skinny mean climbing beasts with the ability to turn the screws on a climb till you're crying for mama between bouts of the pukes.  To get Schlecked would be to get left a quivering humiliated jello legged mess feeling like you're rolling backwards on a climb while a noodle armed Schleck rides out of sight around the next switchback without even looking back to see if you're still there.  Getting Shlecked could only be considered slanderous if one of the Shleck brothers would happen to drop the other.

The phrase "Getting Shlecked" can apply outside of the Schleck brothers as long it involves someone getting dropped by a skinny mean climbing beast that's so confident in thier climbing abilities that they wouldn't even worry if someone's on their wheel.  However, there arent many riders like the Shleck brothers that I know, especially since most riders in the US are of the beefy sort.  But, say for example I lost a ton of weight and suddenly had pasta arms, weighed 130 in a wet skinsuit, and dropped you like a stone on a long unforgiving climb.  I could say I totally Shlecked you and you could say you totally got Shlecked by that guy who writes The Best Bike Blog Ever.