Dig Like A Naked Mole Rat

Above photos:
Sunset on Quinobeguin Road - I Hate March, luckily I got to drive on this day - Dork - Hemlock Gorge.

Weird thoughts go through my brain when I'm riding sometimes. Been working on seated climbing. Most Bicycling Magazine get fit quick articles will tell you to to "pedal from the hips".
In my vernacular this has become "You can do it put your back in to it - I can do it put your ass into it", these are Ice Cube Lyrics, I find them immensely helpful. "Pedal from the hips" does not accurately describe how to engage the muscle group you are trying to engage on a low cadence climbing effort. You want to pedal from the "gluteus Maximus", i.e. your "ass". Ice Cube is a genius.


Above Photos:
Bear Hill Road Waltham

Another thing I say to myself when I'm climbing or really anytime I'm trying to maximize my pedal stroke efficiency is "Dig like a Naked Mole Rat".

Naked Mole Rats wallow on the floors of their communal bathrooms as a way of imbuing themselves with a scent unique to their colony, but that's not important right now. What is important is that Naked Mole Rats can also burrow through concrete...bad ass. I'm just trying to burrow my way up the water tower hill next to Rt. 2 in Arlington. Sure, you can "throw your knee over the bar", "scrape mud (or poo) off your shoe"...whatever works for you. I like visualizing my feet clawing into the dirt/asphalt, scooping down with force and fluidly coming up and around (sometimes I think about a swimmers stroke here as well) to do it again. I also think about "keeping it all positive" as in all positive engagement throughout the pedal stroke.


Above Photos:
Late sunday afternoon, coming back through Concord

While I'm sharing all these incredibly useful and sane bits of information I might as well share my new diet. Not so much diet as feeding schedule. It developed from doing them there 100 milers. I realized that I ate more during a work day than I did during an eight or nine hour bike race, that's just silly. I hate silliness.


So now I eat in small increments throughout the day, having a snack every couple hours, with the largest single meal being a PB & J, sometimes eaten in sections. I commute by bike both ways to work and have a slightly physically demanding job and this "program" has made me more productive and energetic in general. I do drink way more coffee than I would during a 100 miler but as David Letterman once said "if it weren't for the coffee, I'd have no identifiable personality whatsoever".

What I am Babbling About...Today

Chocolate milk saved my life. I read a Velonews article a couple years back it wasn't
This Velonews Article but the one I read is mentioned in the linked article. It talks about a study where they basically found that Chocolate milk is as good or better than most recovery drinks on the market. That and as an added bonus you don't gag when you try to drink it.
This is the type of thing you read and then immediately close the subject for debate. I don't care if studies have come out since debunking the whole thing, chocolate milk works for me and that's all I need to know, la, la, la, I'm not listening, the end.
My philosophy is to avoid high-tech sports foods in general until it is absolutely necessary to consume them...that would be raceday. The rest of the time I say stick to peanut butter filled chocolate covered pretzels, Peanut butter and jelly, bananas, cookies, potato chips...anything but some futuristic glop that looks and tastes like something a bird regurgitated in brick form. Now I'm just waiting for the study that proves that pizza, beer, and coffee are essential elements in an athlete's diet. Carmichael advocates the "Caveman Diet". I'm waiting for the "My Dad Diet".

The First Days of Dogtown

So ya, I was just riding through Dogtown up in Gloucester sunday and this rock jumped out in front of me and I was all like "what the F- rock? I am gonna drag you out of the ground and beat you, AAAH!". Oh wait I was mountain biking and nothing that happened spurred anything like commuter rage. It was 100% pure fun with no badness whatsoever...that's mountain biking for ya.

The above photo...Brad going all "Now way Hans Rey". Andy flirting with disaster. Jeff expressing the overwhelming sentiment of the day.

Let them eat rocks/Cold Feet/Air Jeff

Cliche shot/Hike-a-bike/Island Hopping

It was the first MTB ride of the season for me. Borrowed Andy's Igleheart 29 SS.

Can't believe Andy let me borrow his baby, but it was much appreciated, such a nice ride.
This ride made me come to the re-realization that I really like mountain biking. It makes me as happy as a four year old hopped up on pixie sticks and Dr. Pepper doing somersaults in a bouncy castle.

Bouncy Bouncy
Oh such a good time
Bouncy Bouncy
Shoes all in a line
Bouncy Bouncy
Everybody
somersault,
somersault

-The Mighty Boosh "Bouncy Bouncy"
(thanks Todd)

A Cyclingnews article I read recently got me to thinking about training to race single speed mountain bikes exclusively. It had this to say (among other things):

Critics dismiss the application of a fixed-gear trainer to improvement of road bike technique as analogous to practicing on an ostrich as preparation for riding a racehorse. Ideological opponents of the fixie advocate a purist approach. To get good at riding a road bike, ride it.

I don't necessarily agree with the above statement but there may be something to it. Why would I ride a racehorse in preparation for riding an ostrich (or a Magical Unicorn as the case may be)? At one point I asked a highly regarded Cycling coach about "special needs" of single speeders. He told me that he'd put a SSer on basically the same program as any other mountain biker, the only alteration would be to the cadence and force workouts were done at.
Of course I have only had the option of riding my Fixed Gear (not to be confused with sweet fixie) for months now. Maybe I am just trying to kid myself that I am doing the right thing by spinning and grinding my way around the suburbs of Boston day after day. I won't know the answer until I hit the first couple races. The joke will either be on me or the kids sitting indoors, chasing their tails, watching their power meters.
After a month or so of riding the same gear I decided to mix it up, got myself a Surly "Dingle Cog". It's a 17/19t. This way I can do my force and muscular endurance stuff in the 44 X 17t then throw it up on the 19t and either recover on a short ride or go do hills and get a good aerobic workout. Spinning the 44 X 19 at 22 mph (120 RPMs) will make you suck some wind for sure as well.
The Ultrafit article I linked to a while back illustrated the huge discrepancy in power output between geared on non-geared riders at various cadences. So why shouldn't you try to emulate the requirements of riding an SS MTB as much as possible in training? Sure you can try to fake it...do big gear hill climbs on your road bike, then try to force yourself to spin at close to 120 RPM's for long durations, but y'know what? You're not really gonna do it, at least not to the extreme riding a fixed gear will force you to.
In other news, I signed up for this:
http://www.efta.com/content/view/58/49/
Haven't raced my bike that early since I did Sea Otter. Yikes.

The Bit The Bridle and The Thrashing Mane

Been working on my pack riding skills a lot. Yup, everyday I ride to work with a twelve plus pound pack. I figure it's like having a pretty good beer gut going, only with the advantage of being able to drop the extra weight more quickly. It feels like the gravitational pull of the earth just let up slightly when you do. Someone should do a study. Maybe it's like what adventure racers call "Brick Work". The term for what I do wouldn't be nearly so catchy. It would have to be called "Peanut butter and Jelly, Apple, Yogurt, banana, breakfast burritos, pants, shirt, drawers, and other assorted crap...um, work".

In the above photo the faceplate on my stem appears with the logo oriented correctly although the photo is upside down. The only reason I ever flipped my faceplates was to annoy anal retentive roadie types who spend more time looking at their bikes than riding them. I didn't realize it actually served a purpose...when taking upside down photos. Useful...like nipples on men.

I've finally figured out an awesome (relative term) route to work, and sometimes I get to see things like this:

Rode with other folks for the first time in a long time today. IBCer Julie, her boyfriend John, and C Todd. We even picked up a friend along the way, a guy named Jim from Quad Cycles. He was a pleasant guy who insisted on buying me a coffee at True Grinds after the ride. Aces in my book.


After the ride and the post ride coffee M and I hit Soundbites. If I didn't ride bikes I would be a sumo wrestler in no time fat, uh I mean flat.

Week "Off" Wrap up

Went for one last grind before heading off to Vermont for some non-bike related fun (and torture). Struck out for Wayland, MA, where I hit a couple of my favorite roads.
Water Row is one of them, on many days the water creeps up to road level, on this day the ice took on that role. The other is Sherman's Bridge, a real good stretch to get the legs spinning.

The long shadows of winter.

Then it was off to Waitsfield, VT to visit Jeff and Jen Whittingham and the various cute creatures which inhabit their abode. Food was eaten, drinks were imbibed, and I made a rickety return to snowboarding after a 12 year sabbatical. I learned that my bones are no longer made of rubber and I don't bounce when I fall like I once did. But now I have contracted the bug once again and thoughts have wandered off to how I can spend more time sliding sideways on crystallized water next year. Greg "The Leg" has the right idea. He spends as much time skiing in the winter as he does riding in the summer. It shows, the guy rips.


After exhausting the hospitality and sweet hook ups of the Whittinghams we made our way to the Warren General store, the place that was responsible for developing a certain doughy eight year old's predilection for Boursin cheese. Boursin was had, this time around accompanied by smoked salmon and capers. Wow.


The next day it was XC skiing in the North East Kingdom. The icy conditions challenged our rookie skills. No chance you'll see this spastic freak show on two boards at the Weston ski track trying to chase down Colin and Alex any time soon.


The Village Inn up in East Burke is the spot...cheap, comfortable, and unparalleled breakfasts created by George the moose hunting, bacon smoking half of the husband and wife team that run the place. Can't wait to spend a night there during Mt. Bike season. Skipped another day of boarding at Cannon on the way back friday. A storm was coming in and even with the head start we got nailed. After watching countless cars lose it and slide off the road we opted to get off somewhere near Dracut and go overland the last forty miles home. Driving off the road on purpose might have been a preferable option.

Don't worry, I'm back on the bike and I'll have harrowing tales of commuter rage and more photos of weird crap up soon enough.

A Little Rain Never Hurt No One

Tom Waits said that...apparently he never rode a bike in New England in February. Worst case scenario weather, sub-forty degree rain on top of massive snow melt. Rode through Watertown which was aptly named today. The gutters ran deep, hiding my friends the crevasse sized pot holes, who wanted to swallow me whole, bike, pack, and all. Spent all day trying to finagle a ride home, had many generous offers but ultimately opted to dive back in like Jacques Cousteau and pedal back to Somerville.

Drying area. Only warm, dry article of clothing makes a stupid hat. There will be flood.

Magnetic razor holder. Cables. Proxy Pedal.

Huge warehouse rooms full of enormous cable ends and bolts for the bikes of giants.

Junk. Magnet Collection. Junk.

Mondays are Not Really Rest Days

but I don't ride my bike. Watching two kids all day is way harder than anything else I do in my life. You can't drop out, there are no time outs. No matter how tired you might be, you can't show it or they will be on you like a pack of Hyenas. They don't except excuses and they take no prisoners. You have to be on your game at all times or somebody's going to lose an eye, take a header into the wood stove, or eat their brother's face.

Manny Mondays are far from rest days, but they are the best days.

I'm a Street Riding Chihuahua With a Heart Full of Nougat

Procrastinated through much of the 40° rainy morning. Doing the ride the trainer (I haven't been on it in well over a year) or face the day dance. Three cups of coffee and a couple hours later I made my first attempt at a ride. Got less than ten minutes in when the first rain drops began to fall. My Burley has lost it's water-proofness so I turned back to grab real raingear. Then things went all white squall, snow blowing sideways, total craziness. I watched the swirling madness through the red door, contemplating whether I should really do this or bag it and go to brunch and spend the afternoon watching bad TV.

Alterations were made to my wardrobe selection and I set out again. This time making it fifteen minutes before realizing my core was not getting warm enough. Returning to the house would mean the end of the ride so I scanned the streets for recycling bins or free newspaper dispensers, looking for something to stuff my jersey with. A real estate guide did the trick.
From there on out the skies cleared, I headed up to Concord, Strawberry Hill loop with the addition of Annursnac Rd., a road I'd never noticed until they recently put in a stop sign. It's a super nice climb and a good addition to the loop.

Bad things come in threes. First an Audi buzzed me. I had just been pondering how mountain bikers react to equestrians in the woods. You stop, you walk your bike, you ask if it's OK to pass, is the horse going to freak? Your goal is to not have the horse throw the rider and break their neck. This is about regard for human life. I have no particular fondness for equestrians, but I respect most human and animal life, I don't want to get the rider or the horse hurt. However drivers have no qualms about coming within inches of a cyclist at 50mph.
A little while later, a guy driving a life size Matchbox truck which just screamed "I have little or no penis" slowed down enough to say, apropos of nothing "Get off the road asshole". I can't actually repeat what my reply was. I have reactionary tourette's syndrome, I go way below the belt right off the bat. It had something to do with stating that he had been determined to be mentally disabled before the age of eighteen, and that his height to weight ratio was out of balance. The third incident involved getting cut off at the intersection of Pleasant St. and Mass Ave. All I could muster by then was "You don't do that!". Pretty weak, I was completely knackered by that point.

The goodness comes in spades though. Taking a left turn, using the car in front of you to block traffic, shadowing it off to the right, then seamlessly falling in behind it's draft as it straightens out and riding behind for a few hundred yards. Hitting 35mph on the downhill into Carlisle with a 66in. gear, the RPMs off the charts. The finest moment of the day came after I got caught in another Noreaster type deal outside of Lexington center, about a half hour from home. Thoughts went to holing up in Pete's coffee and calling in an evac from Miriam. Vision was impaired, my window to the world the few millimeters between my the top of my glasses (which I'd pushed down my nose as they had become useless) and the brim of my cycling cap. Just I was about to throw in the towel The Stooges "Search and Destroy" came on the ipod, I went after the snow covered road like Steve Zissou went after the pirates in The Life Aquatic. My cadence and velocity rising, singing "I'm a street-walking cheetah with a heart full of napalm" through my gritted teeth. Then as I spun softly down the clean, white bike path with it's fresh blanket of snow Shearwater's "The Makeover" came on, keeping it nice and mellow for the spin home.

This ride was fueled by chocolate covered peanut butter filled pretzels.

I'll Alert The Media

That's right, real exciting stuff going on here. How much can I possibly whine about bad roads and worse drivers? Maybe I'll reflect on the goodness and light for a moment. Today's commute wasn't as horrible as yesterday's. The few inches of snow on the ground made things more pretty than dangerous and with glasses and a cycling cap the flakes didn't blind me. The fatigue of all fixed gear all the time has set in. I had installed my new 44t White Industries chainring, I didn't have a 17t cog lying about so I went for an 18t over my existing 16t. Shh don't tell all the rookie messengers that grinding around town well behind your gear provides you with no real benefits, other than the fact that you never get your huge gear up to max speed so it's easier to stop your brakeless wonder. Despite the lower (66in.) gear and the fact that I'd adjusted my rear hub bearings which had been seized up for god knows how long I still felt like I was riding around in wet, stinky clothes with a twelve pound pack...oh wait, that's the reality. My ass was dragging.

I gotta say, that new chainring makes the drivetrain look pretty bad-ass. Doesn't feel too shabby either. Threw a Sram PC-1 [ 1/2 X 1/8 chain] ,on which is not normal for me. I usually run all 3/32 stuff, offroad and on. Big legs don't break chains (not like I'd have that problem) overtightening your wheel in the dropouts and bad chainlines break chains (can't hurt to replace it once in a while either). Haven't broken a 3/32 chain since I switched from Shimano to Sram. Magnus Backstedt doesn't use a moped chain so I don't feel I should have to either.

Found some magic on the way home. Hooked up with the bike path in Waltham. It was covered in a couple inches of fresh snow and there wasn't a soul in sight. I followed it to Watertown Square, the only sound the crunch of my tires, once in a while crossing a patch of pavement where the snow had melted off, the feeling was like throwing a medicine ball up a few times then having someone throw you a basketball which comparatively feels light as a feather.

We had another Wild America moment at the shop. A hawk showed up, not the same hawk, but maybe a mature member of the same species. It's probably a Cooper's hawk but we're not sure.

I think I fell asleep three minutes ago, why are you guys still here?

Down and Out in Belmont and Waltham

The quest continues. I have found even more bombed out roads in Waltham, it is simply just not a place to ride a bike. This is unfortunate because it lies between me and my place of work. If I had an hour and a half in the morning to ride I would bee line it for Weston or Lincoln, or one of the other rich suburbs where three people live. Places with really high property taxes which help maintain beautiful roads.

The deluge this morning made for a heart pounding game of "What's in The Puddle?". A Coelacanth? A chest of Spanish Gold Doubloons? Or a giant pot hole, waiting to take me out and send me careening into traffic? Why is it always the latter? Why? Oh, because Waltham sucks that's why. You know what also sucks? The way this guy in a Volvo was driving as I came down Walnut Street in Newton tonight. I was riding up to a red light, he came up next to me and squeezed me to the curb. When I caught up to him at the next light I tapped on his glass and asked "Hey, I'm just curious...are you an asshole or an idiot?". That's kind of a standard of mine. Of course he started shrieking something through the rain streaked glass and flapping his arms wildly about. I couldn't hear a thing with my headphones on.

Listening to the sounds of "13 and God" while absorbing images like the ones bookending this post make all the stress of my silly commute worthwhile. Like the Icelandic Hidden Person run amok Bjork once said "My headphones - They saved my life".

Super Secret Training

Oh yes, it's so freakin' super secret. It entails riding my fixed gear...a lot.
Riding a fixed gear, is good for anyone, but it's particularly beneficial for someone who forgoes gears entirely. I've been rereading Joe Friel's Mountain Biker's Training Bible and assessing my strengths and weaknesses. I've determined that my strength is my ability to spin like a blender on puree mode. My weakness is strength. It might seem weird but I can't push very big gears compared to my single speed brethren. Not like a Skip Brown, Paul Simoes, or Marko and Jesse Lalonde anyway.
To remedy this deficit I have upped my gearing to 70 inches (42 X 16) on the fixed gear (the same gear which Jesse won Chequamegon on...off-road) . Oh that's a wussy little light gear you say? Not when you ride up stuff like the Arlington water tower hill on the way to work, believe me, that hurts enough for Mr. Chicken Legs here. To get the benny's of the fixed gear you must spin more than you mash, I let the terrain not my gear dictate when to grind. I like to be able to spin out pretty good on flat ground without going anaerobic.

Now the secrets out, so you and your gramma can heckle me when you pass me during Root 66 races this season yelling "where's your sweet fixie now douche bag?".

The real secret is in the recovery food...Peanut Butter and Jelly and Chocolate Covered Peanuts and Marshmallows.

I've been experimenting, trying to find the worst possible commuting route to work. Riding the same route day after day has begun to wear on me, change is needed. If I have to ride my bike down North St. in Somerville, past the Mickey Mouse projects one more time, I swear I'm going to jerk the bars into a damn bridge abutment.
I consulted the good old Rubel map, they claim there are "Green Streets" (preferred cycling routes) through much of Waltham. This is a lie. I have not found a single road in that town which is anything more than tolerable on a bike.
The other night I had survived the mentally challenging route I had chosen through Waltham, only to flat out just a few miles from home out in Belmont. It happened as I was blindly rattling down a hill on a dark, pot hole riddled street. You know a death blow when you feel one. I pulled off to the side before my rim started banging asphalt.
The bike does roll faster with it's new Conti Duraskin 700 X 25's, but I can say with certainty that I never once flatted while running the Conti Top Tourer 2000 700 X 32's. I rode them 3,000 miles (most of the way) across the country, messengered for two years on them, and commuted I don't know how many 1000's of miles on them, not one flat. Just a few weeks ago I whacked a pot hole so hard in the rain that I put a hop in my rim...the tire did not go flat. That was all on the same pair of tires, not just that particular model, sounds insane, but is' true.
Fascinating stuff, I know. Christ, it's two months till my first race and I'm already talking about commuting tires. Maybe I should drive my computer into a damn bridge abutment.

you go to [ride] with the [parts] you have, not the [parts] you might want or wish to have at a later time

Much like my last entry, this post has a moderately clever title which overstates the case while paraphrasing a famous/infamous quote. What followed in my prior post was a description of an event and the equipment which was involved in the event. No further aspersions were cast outside of the title. If I wanted to "dis" White industries the title would have read "Cheap, Light, won't disintegrate (and dump you on your head in the middle of an intersection) Pick ONE". Because those chainrings aren't cheap. Now that would have been harsh.
Sorry if the title of my post offended, it was meant to be silly. As far as the idea that I shouldn't have even written about what happened...that's ridiculous.
When Donald Rumsfeld uttered the statement which I chopped up and recycled into the title of this post he was criticizing soldiers who came forward and brought attention to serious flaws with the equipment they were using in Iraq. I think people should know that they should check their White chainrings for stress cracks at the spider. Silence equals Death! Or serious injury...or near serious injury anyway. No further questions!

Until I get my new chainring from White (which was warrantied, no questions asked) I'll be running the Truvativ cranks from my Rig. I had to cobble things together just to get home the other night, single speed chainring bolts were unavailable and time was short, so I ended up with this thing of beauty:



Hey Sweet Fixie kids, this is where it's at, the "Too Small Bash Guard Look", it's about as functional as a top tube pad. Do it. Beats the hell out of how I got to work. Had to space my 105 cranks out 3mm to the right to get the chainring to clear the chainstay. Damn 135mm spaced 'Cross bike. Don't try this at home, it is bad mechanically because there is very little spline engagement on the left side crank, and bad bio-mechanically because you are off center over the pedals. Bad.

Me and my bike actually went out for a ride other than a commute. I bugged out for a lunch time ride, taking advantage of the warm weather (40°) and the deadness of the shop. Took a photo of me eating a banana, unintentionally using a McMansion construction blight, uh I mean site as a backdrop. Later I saw it as a visual metaphor.
Some people are "good" consumers, they buy lots of big, expensive cars, and big,
ugly houses with lots of useless space to heat. They can afford to do that, or maybe they can't and that's why America's credit card debt dwarfs the national debt. I can't afford to buy houses and cars with four DVD players in them but I can afford bananas, so I buy and consume bananas. Big, ugly houses have very little potassium in them (unless they have a bowl of bananas in the kitchen) if you were in a bike race and you tried to eat a McMansion your muscles would cramp and I'd beat you.
I think that my form of consumption is superior. Call me crazy, just don't call me late for dinner...especially if we're having "Monkey" (a hybrid of a Monkey and a Donkey, much tastier than "Donkey", a hybrid of a Donkey and a Monkey).

Cheap, Light, Won't disintegrate (and dump you on your head in the middle of an intersection) Pick Two

This was not what I had in mind when I got up this morning. I left the house with the intention of getting a good 1.5 hours in on the way to work. The idea is to incrementally up my commuting mileage going into the beginning of my base period. Ah, the best laid plans of mice and men on pink bicycles.
Everything was going just fine. I was rolling along, it was a nice, sunny day, the temperature just shy of thirty degrees, I was loving life...until I came to an intersection in Cambridge. I sat there, track standing right next to a group of Verizon utility workers. The light turned green, I stood up and began to pedal forward. Then BAM! (Metal ripping apart type sound effects) I go flying over my bars, stuffing the bike underneath me like it was my partner in a game of leapfrog gone horribly awry. Then I'm in the middle of the intersection on my hands and knees, Verizon guys gathering about, making sure I didn't get run over by a Cambridge mom speeding to Yoga class.
I wasn't hurt, but my bike wasn't going anywhere. My White Industries chainring had sheared clean off of my Eno Cranks at the spider. The Verizon workers insisted they had tools in their truck which could fix anything. Not this time fellas.


I hefted the bike to my shoulder and walked a spell, I was about four miles from home, this was going to suck immensely. At this point I secured the chain and began scootering the bike down the sidewalk, leaping onto the saddle 'Cross style and coasting whenever possible. This got old quick, as my left knee began to throb with every push. The plus side was, I looked really, really cool doing this.
I stopped at my parents house hoping my brother who has the sleeping habits of Nosferatu might still be in bed and I might enlist him to give me a ride home. No such luck. I scooted the rest of the way home. There were no parts at the house to make Mr. Pink rideable. So awesome plan B was enacted: Ride my 35 lb. Schwinn Varsity the eleven rolling miles to work. Sweet. I couldn't wait.
I fixed the flat on the Varsity. One of the truly amazing things about this bike is that in the what...four years it's been in my possession it has never left me stranded with a flat. It has gotten two flats, one front one rear, both were slow leaks which occurred while the bike was parked on the porch. This with cheap gum wall tires. The Mojo which it's former master Todd Downs imbued this thing with must be mighty. MIGHTY.



As magical as this creature may be, after about twenty-five minutes of solid riding I was pretty miserable. All I could think about was my exit strategy...how would I get home by some other means than this lumbering mass of solid steel and rust.
It was fun while the fun lasted though, and with the neon yellow and teal Pearl Izumi Jacket I dug out of my closet (which may actually be a wormhole to 1989) I looked good doing it. This cycling thing is, after all a fashion thing for me, or couldn't ya tell?

You know you really want
to lay it down
Right now
And how

This morning's commute started like any other. I took a moment to get a shot of a box of Ritz crackers on a tree.


But during the day it rained, moisture settling on deep frozen asphalt. It seemed warm as I struck out for home. The streets were glistening in my lamp light. I noticed that the paint on the cross walks was a little slippery, I backed off each time I cornered across one just to be safe.
My computer told me I was going just shy of 20mph...let me take a moment to justify my new found love of the cycle computer, something I usually view as an unnecessary distraction. The way I'm using it, it serves more like a cadence computer. Constantly motivating me to tip the scales so to speak. If I'm going 18mph, I know I can maximize my puny 38 X 16 gear and get 20-22mph out of it, if I concentrate real hard. Get it up to 30+ on a downhill and you'll know the meaning of terror.
Anyway, the gadget told me I was going almost 20mph, I was coming into a wide arcing corner. BAM! That's all I can say. Hip hits tarmac, bike makes sickening scraping noise as it slides, me still attached to it toward the sidewalk, bike leaps curb as my left foot slams into it.
I was out of the road, so I lay there with my eyes closed, my ipod was still blaring in my ears so I didn't hear the old man standing over me asking about my well-being. I looked over my right shoulder, telling him I was fine. A couple walking a dog came up and insisted they should call me an ambulance. I insisted I was fine (a bit of hyperbole, but I didn't need a meat wagon that was for sure). It was funny, I didn't notice when all these people walked away as I fidgeted with my earphones, lights, and fenders, trying to get all sorted out. After collecting myself I creaked off toward home, thinking about Ibuprofen and beer.


Why do we fall down? So we can pick ourselves up and go "Jesus Christ! Crap! Argh!".
That's why little skipper.

Lay it down
Lay it down
Lay it down
Lay it down
Lay it down
Lay it down
Lay it down
Yeah yeah yeah

- Ratt (with two "T's", so you know it's got to be good)

Nothing To Say

I don't have anything interesting to say today...but you might want to check this out:

My buddy Andy (who has a great rant on his blog today by the way) forwarded this to me a while back, it sums up the whole single speed thing in a very intelligible, technical way:

From Ultrafit.com
Cyclists: Single Speed Training for Mountain Bikers...

Single speed training isn't just for dedicated single speed racers but for all mountain bike racers interested in improving their limiters in a fun and specific way.

Using Power-Tap data collected from the same rider on both a gearie (geared MTB) and a single speed mountain bike (SS MTB) a quadrant analysis (QA) was generated to compare the demands of each. Each point in a QA plot shows the pedal force and pedal speed (think cadence). QA helps to identify the neuromuscular demands of a cycling genre. In this plot what's striking is the relative differences between SS MTB and geared MTB demands in terms of force and cadence.



Single speeders spend more time at higher and lower cadences than gearies. Gearies concentrate the majority of pedaling around a small, preferred cadence range, whereas single speeding requires cadences in a huge range, from 20s to over 130s. Single speeding puts you out of your cadence comfort zone and stimulates new abilities.

The force distribution differs significantly between both riding styles. Single speeders spend more time pedaling at higher force levels at lower cadences, i.e. they do a lot of mashing and a lot of standing. It's a matter of physics—to maintain a given power output if cadence decreases, pedal force must increase, and as cadence gets really low, pedal force must increase a lot. To single speed successfully you have to push a lot harder while pedaling slowly! The cadence and force characteristics of single speeding are similar to structured training drills such as spin-ups or force repeats. The single speed mountain bike is a valuable training tool!

Any hard tail mountain bike can be converted into a single speed. Everybody has one of these lying in their garage, right? Take off all the shifting stuff and put back on a handful of cassette spacers, a chain tensioner and a single speed cog. To go super low cost, take an old cog from a cassette and put it on backwards with the shift ramps facing the wheel.

The single-speed is the ultimate winter training machine. Sloppy conditions are hell on drivetrains. Single-speeds steamroll through mucky, wet conditions. Spend your time riding instead of fiddling with derailleurs, cables, shifters or cogs clogged with mud. Save wear and tear on your bling components for the race season.

Winter or the off-season is the time to improve your limiters so you break out into the new race season a level above the previous year. The single speed can target these limiters in a very specific way.

Torque: Low cadence/high force pedaling time improves low cadence power abilities, mimicking the goal of structured workouts such as force repeats or muscle tension sessions. Increasing leg strength on the bike is more specific to mountain bike racing than lifting weights in the gym and comes along with the added benefits of cardio and skill development.

Full Body Strength: Pedaling uphill, off-road out of the saddle with high force and low cadence is a full body effort. This type of training increases upper body and core strength in a riding specific position.

Improve Pedal Stroke: High cadence pedaling time improves pedal stroke replicating the goal of skills workouts such as spin-ups.

Bike Handling Skills: Single speeding enhances technical skill development with a simplified focus. No attention is spent on gear choice and there is no need to ease up on the pedals to plan a gear shift. This frees up all pedaling and thought time to conquer a technical challenge. Hammer straight into an obstacle with a plan of attack. Learn how to rail corners as losing momentum is costly. Learn to make the most of those out-of-the-saddle efforts, improving your ability to maintain traction and forward progress in the steep and loose stuff. Watch your balance improve with every ride.

Increase Attention: With only one gear there is less leeway to save technical mistakes made on the trail. Attention must be paid to the line ridden and correct momentum carried through. Getting it right the first time is the key to keep it rolling with no bailout gears on board.

Maximize Flow: Momentum killers such as braking, soft dirt, holes, bumps and rocks become bigger features to the single speeder with no big ring to power it out. The penalty of losing momentum is a strong motivator to learn the flow of the trail, maximize efficiency and conserve momentum. You'll learn how to keep your bike flowing along with less power. You will become a smoother rider.

Incorporate single speed training into your program this winter as a way to improve limiters in a manner most specific to cycling. The new challenge will add variety and simplicity in bad weather, but most of all you'll reap big training benefits while having a ton of fun out on the trails.

Lynda Wallenfels coaches and consults with mountain bikers. Lynda@LWCoaching.com. Her 2007 athletes boast two national championship jerseys and a podium finish at Worlds. www.LWCoaching.com.

And the winter's so

And the winter's so long

Yes I listen to The Decemberists while I ride...and in general. Those lyrics seemed more than apropos today. The temperature was officially in the low twenties, but with the 15-20mph headwind, it drove the perceived temp well below that. Brutal is the word I use to describe. Just brutal. Lobster claw gloves, Balaclava with neck warmer and marino wool cap over that, polypro top, insulated long sleeve, craft mid weight, windbreaker with windvest thrown over for good measure, knicker bibs under amphib tights, heavy smart wool socks, Pearl Izumi's most burly booties. An hour in I was already hurting. I think of these rides strictly as an out and back thing. I try to ride directly into the headwind for as long as I can take it, then I turn and drag my ass home. The plan was for three hours, but an hour out was all I could handle, by then my hands were numb and my feet were in bad shape. Just in the sense that they were cold as hell. My feet and everything else are actually better off than they've ever been, thanks to Bill Peterson at We Do Feet. The fitting I got with Craig Gaulzetti has worked wonders as well...more on all that in a future post.



Breakfast was not broken before the ride, then I procrastinated so long that I was already a bit peckish when I left the house. By the time I was three quarters of the way into the ride I was ravenous. I wanted to stop and eat somebody's cat. The second I walked through the door I b-lined it for Miriam's banana bread. What's better than banana bread? Banana bread with peanut butter and jelly. That's what chief! I polished that off with a mug of of hot-recovery-cocoa with recovery marshmallows.



The previous night I'd gone out to opening of a new shop in Union Square Somerville. I took the scenic urban route over from the shop in Newton.



The bartender at the opening was probably a little inexperienced, he was very proactive, shoulder tapping potential customers and asking if they wanted a beer. How could one say no.



"she loves the faded colors of 3AM just like i do"

-Jonathan Richman

Listen the snow is falling over town
Listen the snow is falling everywhere

My commuter pack gathered dust over the past two weeks or so, but looked majestic in the morning light while doing it. The rain cover still deployed from the last miserably wet ride home.



The only bike I'll be riding for the foreseeable future is Mr. Pink, the fixed gear. The gear is an insanely spinny-light 38 x 16. I'll definitely get my speed work in, but it will grind plenty good on my longer base mile rides.



A "Natural Break" while wearing three layers of clothing is always fun.



Those who spend the entirety of the winter months riding an indoor trainer watching Dharma and Greg reruns are missing out on some amazing stuff.

I Had a Slight Diversion, But I'm Back