Try All Three

Nothing wakes me out of a peaceful blog-hibernation like an infuriating new article from BikeRadar.com. The article seemed benign enough with its "15 Way To Ensure Your Best Summer's Riding Ever." Most of the points made in it were what you'd expect from a cycling publication pulling generic tips for summer riding. "Try All Three" was the final bit of advice from the author, Andy Wadsworth (Wadsworth? Really?). He starts with "Having a new goal will add variety to your regime, so why not enter a triathlon?" and then I blacked out in a fit of rage. If your goal is to be held to some supposed standard of fitness and look like an idiot, then sure sign up for the next doggy-paddle, coast, jog event. If you want variety get a different bike. I'll probably write more in the near future, but I'm still a bit groggy from hibernation so long.

Bikes, Bikes, Cops, and Rain

Whoa. Back at it again. I tend to blackout when it rains for that long. I'd liken it to bears hibernating in the winter, but that would be an insult to bears and I already have enough of them pissed off at me.

While I was gone:

Giro, Schmiro
The centenary edition of the Giro d'Italia started last Saturday. I know this because nearly every bike website that I frequent has some sort of 'tech' article about custom-themed race bikes. Aside from winning Worlds or a national championship, it used to be that riders would get a custom saddle or might even splurge for different bar tape. Shoes were another component that riders would get customized, but that special treatment was strictly limited to parts that affected ergonomics. Earlier this year, Lance got a special bike for the Tour Down Under to commemorate his return to the sport. That was pretty cool considering his accomplished palmares. But now Trek has commissioned guerilla, street artist Shepard Fairey (the guy who created the "Obey" and "Hope" campaigns) to decorate Lance's bike with stickers. Fantastic, but I'm not quite sure "Winners, Not Wankers 2009" is on par with his other work. Decorating a Trek with stickers is only one step above putting a giant "Ford" sticker across the rear windshield of your F-150. What's next? Truck nuts for your saddle bags? It's not like these bikes are commemorating anything in particular. Take Gilberto Simoni's bike. Sure he won a couple Giros but what does that have to do with his metallic blue Guerciotti? Oh that's right. I forgot he had a smurftastic ride at the Tour de Smurf. I thought part of being a team was looking like one too. It's a the Giro d'Italia, not fucking NAHBS.

Speaking of Which
My dreams have come true and I will finally be going to see one of the most interesting bike shows in the world. Show founder and director, Don Walker just announced that the show will travel to Richmond, Va for its sixth edition. I. AM. PSYCHED!!!!11!!!one!!

The Fuzz
I got pulled over by a DC Park Police officer yesterday for allegedly "swerving" out of my lane. It took a lot of self-control not to sprint away from him, but two things held me back: I was wearing my team kit and I wasn't drunk. Also, I'm slow.

Rain
If you didn't notice the rain, you must love being indoors. I hate the indoors but I tried to do everything possible to be productive while being off the bike. I tuned up my mountain bike and installed new tires and a tubeless setup. I tuned up some old bikes I rarely ride to get them ready for sale on Craigslist. I guess I'm seeing a bit of faulty logic in trying to get my mind off riding bikes by spending time around bikes but not actually riding them. Hindsight's a bitch.

As far as actual riding goes, I'm ashamed to say that I didn't do much of that. Riding in the rain is fine for a day or two, but after that I seriously start considering moving to places where it doesn't rain for entire weeks, like the Moon. Also, from a mechanic's standpoint riding in the rain drives me nuts. You have two options: Don't ride in the rain and avoid having to dry, clean, overhaul, lube, and tune your bike. Or ride in the rain, be pissed the entire ride for intentionally mucking up your bike, and sit at home or at the shop for hours because your obsessive-compulsive self won't allow you to have a bike that isn't in perfect working order.

The write-in option in this scenario would be to ride in the rain, be pissed for getting your bike wet, put it away wet because you're pissed and tired from the ride, then spend the next fair weather ride super pissed because you're chasing around 16-million squeaks and creaks from all the dried out and gunked up components that you didn't take the time to fix (which is what happened to me yesterday).

Planned Cyclehood

I hate planning rides. I don't mean simply planning to ride on a particular day. I do that just about everyday. What I mean by "planning a ride" is preparing and organizing for a specific route that is usually not included in your regular ride routine. I planned for such a ride yesterday. I was to be joined by Z-man and Flaco on a Skyline Drive bro-ride, which is two-rides under a Zone-1 ride and one ride above a charity ride raising funds for my bar tab. And as happy as I was that we received a sizable rainfall to wash away that inch-thick coat of pollen off my car, I was equally disappointed that it forced us to cancel our ride.

Maybe "forced" is too harsh a word. It wasn't exactly the rain that cancelled our trip. It was the rain that made us lazy and drag our feet to the point where we somehow accepted the logic that maybe it wouldn't be such a good idea to spend a super soggy day climbing and descended on roads of questionable conditions. Looking back on this supposed "logic," I can't help but plead temporary insanity. I'm going next time, even if there's a fucking tornado.

There are somedays when I feel like being a workhorse in the saddle, or rather a workpony if you've ever ridden with me. But no matter what, I am the laziest sonofabitch when it comes to planning a ride. Do you know why I stuff all those tools, tubes, and food into my pockets when I ride? Because even preparing for an individual ride is friggin' impossible for me to do. I keep all my "pocket crap" in the same pile and don't even bother checking it when I head out for rides. You could replace my co2 pump with a rubber chicken and I would never know until I shoved a presta valve through one of its eyes. I even pack an extra chain and tire when I ride my mountain bike so that I'll always be prepared for the bicycle armageddon and never be stranded anywhere. Planning a ride to Skyline honestly doesn't take that much. A few bottles of water, some food, a car, and you'd be set. You might even be lucky enough to bribe a good friend with enough beer to drive a sag wagon. But then you still have to coordinate with the other riders about dates, distances, a rendezvous time and promise each other you won't constantly attack and try to make the other bonk first. Personally, I'm not really hip to the whole "communication" thing. Nor am I even remotely likely to behave myself on any group ride. So I guess the entire ride was doomed from the start.

And probably the worst part about futilely planning a ride is the second-string ride. Still longing to make the most of the day, you head out for a quick spin only to spend the entire ride grumpy, wishing that you had mustered up the cojones to ride. Dammit...

Power Tools

Can someone please explain to me what the fuck a "Power house" is? I generally associate this term with a prolific basketball team or someone who can easily smite a peleton in the final 20km of a cycling monument. I do not understand this term in reference to inanimate objects, least of which being a crappy "tri" bike. And yet I am constantly presented with these aggravating and disturbing situations at work.

Today some guy came in and said he was having an issue with the front shifting on his TT bike. Of course he didn't call his bike a "TT bike" but said something along the lines of "triathlon," "race," and "bicycle." I chose to ignore this part of the conversation; "shifting problem" was all I needed to hear. Then he said something about not being able to maintain his top-end speed. I also ignored this comment because had I thought too much about it, my head would have exploded. But to my dismay he continued talking and even pointed to his "power house" the lower half of the bike in the general area of the crankset and bottom bracket shell. He prefaced his next question by telling me that he checked his brakes and wheels to make sure they weren't rubbing and also that the shifting was fine. The next words that came out of his mouth were "Everything seems fine, but I'm still having trouble keeping my top-end speed. Do you think there's something wrong in the power house?" [points to the bb assembly]. Humoring him, I checked to make sure the bb was spinning smoothly and there weren't any binding or loosening issues. I even checked his brakes and wheels to make sure they were in decent working order. There was nothing wrong with the bike, but he kept mentioning this mysterious "power house" and pointing to his bike. Within 3 minutes, I ran out of bullshit to check on his bike and words to say to make this Tri-dork leave my shop. All I could do was make a face and admit "defeat." I told him that "It was something I couldn't fix" but didn't go as far as telling him that by "it" I meant the absurd level of ineptitude for cycling and general athleticism that I was currently present with. At the end of our conversation, he finally gave in and took his bike back, adding that it was "probably just his legs because he hasn't been on the bike in months." I subsequently smashed my fingers in the vise to keep me from choking this guy out.

"Power house" could possibly be a pseudonym for "legs" and a horrible stroke could have cause this poor miscommunication, but I'd say that's meeting this customer more than half way.

Oh, and if you're wondering why he said his shifting was fine but still brought his bike in for shifting issues, it's because his left bar-con wasn't clicking like his right one and he is "100% sure that the left shifter was indexed and not a friction shifter." And yes, he was completely wrong.

This Idiot Reviews: EAS Catapult

Last Sunday at the Carl Dolan Memorial, I sprinted for a prime that nobody contested. Like an idiot, I went all out for it, not even knowing what it was. As it turns out, I won some EAS nutritional supplements. I got a box of EAS Myoplex Lite, which is a post-ride protein bar that tastes like a cinnamon rice krispie covered in frosting, and a 23-oz. bottle of EAS Catapult: Pre-Race Energy Fuel, that does not taste nearly as yummy. I have chosen to a do review on the latter product because I have nothing interesting to say about a protein bar that tastes like candy (other than mmmmMMMMMMmmmmm!).

The Packaging
This drink mix came in pretty standard form, although now after trying the stuff I would have expected it to be shaped like a lightning bolt or giant exclamation point. Interestingly enough, before I could even access the mix I had to fight my way through two thick plastic-wrapped seals keeping the lid secure and another paper seal under the lid. Having broken into the Fort Knox of sports drinks, I had a slight inkling that I might be getting in over my head so I read the label. It reads like this:

Catapult: Pre-Race Energy Fuel
-Intensify Workouts
-Enhance Performance
-Delay Onset of Muscle Fatigue

and here's the abridged version of what's on the back:

Mix with water. Drink before workout. Do not take late in the day or exceed two doses within 24hrs and allow at least 4hrs between doses. Not for use by individuals under 18 or those even remotely considering pregnancy. Do not use if you have heart disease, angina, arrhythmia, high blood pressure or other cardiovascular disease, recurrent headaches, bleeding disorder, depression or other psychiatric condition, difficulty urinating, prostate enlargement, or seizure disorder. Don't take this shit with any other stimulants. These statements have not been evaluated by the FDA

"Holy shit," I said as I poured myself a glass.

The Taste
Against my better judgment, I took the recommended dose. (And might I say that if a particular sports supplements refers to its servings as "doses" you should probably read the label very carefully.) The drink tasted like Lysol mixed in with crushed caffeine pills. Lemon-Lime my ass. I had to chug the rest and chase it with water to get the taste out of my mouth.


The Effects
I won't say that I could really feel the effects of the drink. I did have a pretty decent ride, but that could have been from a number of factors: not being drunk, having a tailwind on the W&OD, eating properly, etc. So the whole "less fatigue" thing will have to be reevaluated in subsequent trials. As far as adding to the intensity of my workout, I'd have to say that that didn't change much either. It was a pretty typical evening at the Thursday night Hains Point sprints. I didn't feel any better or worse than I usually do. I did notice how there were some ignorant jackasses riding in the pack who had no idea what was going on around them. Despite this (and a few unnecessarily close calls), I can't say that I had a heighten sense of awareness due to the drink. Post-ride, I would say the effects were fatigue and extreme hunger, or in other words "how I usually feel after I ride." And I'll chalk up the strange tingling sensation in my heart to a completely random anomaly.


Conclusion
If you're looking for a drink mix that tastes like you just puréed a handful of pills and squeezed the tiniest sliver of lemon over it, this drink is for you. If you're looking for a substitute for your crack addiction, this drink will do that as well. But if you're an average idiot cyclist, I would have to say that this drink did not improve or detract from the quality of my workout. Granted, I've only used this product once, so we'll have to see how well it works in the long term. And in the worst case scenario, I'll mix the powder into a handle of Aristocrat vodka and sell it to college students as Idiot's Magical Study Elixir.

The Quickie

As much as I like riding bikes, I hate doing quick bike rides. From a training standpoint, the "quickie" makes a lot of sense as an efficient way to meet a certain objective (recovery, intervals, etc.). It also make a lot of practical sense for those that don't have the luxury of going on longer rides due to work and family (all other reasons are cop outs). But despite all these logical explanations for going out for a quick spin, I will never enjoy the Quickie.

The Quickie is a total boner kill. It takes all the fun away from the simple act of riding a bike and is a waste of chamois cream and lube. I'm not saying that riding with a certain objective can't be fun. It's only when the objective is a simple time limitation that all the fun of riding goes erm... soft. Without an epic ride, how is a cyclist supposed to daydream about racing in the Tour of Flanders or climbing in the Pyrenees? How are you supposed to develop those oh-so-pro tan lines, including the enviable raccoon eyes from wearing sunglasses too long? Sure, you could take 'shrooms before you ride and "daydream" about practically anything. And you could substitute your sunscreen for tanning oil, (or in my case, Crisco) to fast track that super tan. But I say that's no substitute for spending 3+ hours in the saddle.

Unlike the Quickie, the focus of the longer ride is to take pleasure in the experience of riding. Enjoy the warm-up, take the time to draw the blood into your legs and tempt yourself with a few quick stomps out of the saddle. Then kick it up a notch to the point where you're going fast but not going to explode too quickly. Maybe you take an intermission and stop for a snack (I usually do). Then you come up to your favorite climb or your own personal sprint circuit and just let loose. Finally, cool yourself down, get some water, and ride home with a giant smile on your face knowing that you've had an excellent ride. Whether you're doing intervals, riding tempo, or just out enjoying the outdoors, it's all about loving the bike ride, not putting limitations on it.


[Ed. - I totally got blue-balled on my past two rides, hence this post. Also, it's late, hence the retarded nature of this post. Long ride tomorrow. Laterzzzzzzz]

Bridging the Gap: Can't

I can't blog right now. Catching up on Sea Otter tech coverage.

Check this out:
Wonder why this Cane Creek weighs approximately half the weight of a standard headset?

It's because it has half the bearings! DUH!