Saturday, March 4, 2017

Training and Other Character Flaws


There’s a snow pack rising, and I’ve got evil on my mind

It’s here. Training that is. So far three weeks of sticking to the preset training schedule, increasing mileage by 9% per week. With the ride today that makes 132 miles this week. The ride today…winds of 25 miles per hour. Someone once stated that ‘the wind is my friend’, when training. That person was demented. The thought is that the extra effort riding against the wind helps. Sure.

I take it personally though! In my heart I know that there is a Training God, and he is of the Old Testament because he rides a Brooks saddle (thus in agony, but denies it in favor of fashionability), not merciful, and takes liberties to torment the poor bike rider. Hills must end, races have a distance limit, and winds do not. OK, stop whining.

The aero bars help a lot, and to be fair the experience of toughing it out is a plus. Gosh I hate to be rational – more satisfying to whine! Anymore, the wind is an annoyance, but helps to gain that ‘adverse conditioning’ so necessary for racing the Tour Divide.

Three more months to go. By that time I should be at a 300 mile per week level, holding it for three weeks, then tapering the last ten days. There is no ‘peak’ level I am striving for. Peaking before the TD is physical suicide – you will peak on the ride. There is no way you can hold your peak conditioning for two or three weeks! If you have, in fact, peaked before the race, then each day after about a week or so will put you in the hole. That’s my scientific buttwing guess.

No, I don’t do any specific interval training, although parts of my ride resemble intervals, such as brief steep hill all out climbs. My spin classes substitute for interval training, not that I need a lot of intervals. They do help though. Oh, and for now I train almost exclusively on pavement.

My typical routes (overall) average about fifty to seventy-five feet of climbing per mile of distance. Except the average consists of valley flats with rolling hills, and extended climbs in the Sierra foothills. My problem, if you can call it that, is that I have one speed, and that is what I call ‘training pace’. The pace is relatively fast (for me!), and more than sixty plus percent of time is spent in heart rate zones 3, 4, and 5. I know that I should slow down for some rides, and I’ve been trying. The funny thing is that keeping my heart rate in zone 2 or low 3 results in a per mile time increase of only 7 to 10 percent of normal training. Think I would learn? Later maybe.

I do have recovery rides scheduled and every third or fourth week is a recovery week (recovery weeks are 60% of previous week mileage). Last race training year (2015) I forced myself to slow down periodically, and will again this year. Ditto weight training. The past few months I’ve increased the weights by 50 to 100% depending on specific exercise. Yep, noticed a significant increase in strength, along with more fatigue, while teetering right on the edge of injury. Now that I’m ramping up the miles, I’ll back off the mass slowly, coming back down to the normal weights.

Brain freeze - Snow is on my mind. The snowpack in Montana and Wyoming is higher than average. In Wyoming it is 200% of average for parts of the TD route. In years past parts of the race have been rerouted to avoid snowed in mountain passes.  I really want to race the entire route, and a delay of a year is not in the cards. I’ve worked too hard this last year pre-training, and besides, next year might be worse. Another adversity to overcome. Heck, who knows? Perhaps this year will be a warm spring and snow will magically go away the week before the start. Race regardless, race with honor.

My hands are getting better, having a long history of numbness during rides. Part of that is changing my handlebars to a 41 degree back sweep model and a 30 degree stem. That puts me more upright, (maybe too much) taking weight off my hands. Still fiddling with the angles and dangles, grips and such, but looks promising.  Another help is that I’ve been doing planks as part of my training, and my core is stronger.

A recent discovery is that my right hand ulnar numbness (last two fingers only) is in part a problem of where the nerve crosses the inner elbow (it gets irritated). Look up ‘Ulnar Flossing’ on YouTube – thanks to Matt Lee for that tip. It’s a method of stretching the ulnar nerve, helping to relieve numbness. My fingers still fall asleep at night when I am on my right side though. Take care when you ride to avoid hand issues – mine stem from the 2013 TD ride injuries, exacerbated greatly by the 2015 race, and riding since then hasn’t made things better. You have been warned.

Speaking of my butt, my long standing issue of uncomfortable saddles has eased a bit. Still, I prefer to describe my present saddle as my ‘least painful’, rather than most comfortable. (I give names to my saddles, such as ‘Vlad the Impaler’, ‘Cheek grater’, ‘Chainsaw’, ‘Scrotumizer’ and the like). A large part of the improvement is just putting in mile after mile. I’ve been changing saddles recently to ‘train’ my hiney (I’ve got fifteen or twenty saddles to choose from). Confounding the issue is that the more upright position changes the butt-ometry, so to speak, thus the discomfort level of certain saddles.


All things are interconnected.

Wednesday, February 1, 2017

Motive-Vation: Why I Ride


Is a cougar best measured in grams or ounces?

So let’s assume for argument’s sake that I ride for a reason, or reasons. What are they? Often I’m in a slump and have ‘reasons’ not to ride, but then remind myself that each ride is different. I chant, “Don’t judge the ride before it is over”.  Lately the weather here has been…well, apocalyptic, and I’ve been chanting a lot. We’ve had in close succession heavy snowfall, very heavy rains, regional flooding, more snow, more rain, flash flooding, more snow, and freezing temps. Our town gets 300+ days of sunshine a year. Normally. Not this year though, and getting my 100 miles a week in on my bike outdoors has been impossible the past two weeks. 

I’m constantly reminding myself that my TD training has not started yet, so don’t worry about the mileage. Sure. Another chant on my rides, when I notice that I’m up to training pace is, “I’m not training yet!”.  I talk to myself a lot during the rides. Sometimes I get a third opinion that sneaks in from somewhere. Hah. A month until I start the real TD training.

So I changed gears a bit (oops, pun). Flooding? Well heck, I’ve got TD-grade rain gear, no? So out I went in torrential rains and howling winds to view our neighborhood and the flooding near our home (we’re 50’ above flood stage, not so lucky for all of our neighbors). The small stream near our house was a raging river. Holy torrent, Bikeman! One of the two access roads into our area was under water.

I rode over the one remaining (and shaking!) bridge that was open and down to the major thoroughfare across the river that runs through the city, where it was barricaded off, and I stopped to speak with the officer guarding the intersection. I figured that it even though the sign said, “Road Closed”, the bikepath next to the road didn’t have a sign. Not surprisingly he asked what I was doing out in the storm. I answered, “Science experiment, gear testing”. After a bit I asked if I could ride down to the bridge across the river. He thought a moment and then said that I could, but the County workers there might yell at me. Perhaps he thought that bikers were expendable?

At the river I was stunned by the amount and speed of the water which barely cleared the underside of the bridge. Add to that the whole trees and other debris being carried away by the flood. Yep, the County workers, there to assess the damage and guard the bridge, had the sandbag trucks parked on the bridge (!!), and they were watching the flood. When they noticed me I yelled, “The cop said it was OK to ride down here!”. Heh heh.

I’m beginning to dislike spin classes at the gym and trainer sessions in my garage. About a dozen hour long sessions in the past two weeks. Plus weightlifting  at the gym. And I snuck in a few rides outside, ice permitting. Oh, and getting bundled up from head to toe is getting old. My balaclava facemask actually feels like a second skin now.

A while back I was riding near the small stream noted above. Suddenly a coyote darted out of a ravine twenty feet in front of me. He and I came to a quick stop. Not that I was worried about him, just didn’t want to collide with any critter having teeth. I had seen him before sneaking around in the field nearby, but from a couple hundred yards distance. He watched me, cocking one eye up, and I watched him, cocking one eye up. We stood there, cockeyed, for thirty seconds, at which time he trotted off casually. A beautiful animal; a fluffy winter coat with orange-brown color highlights. 

For those not familiar with coyotes, they have the body mass of a wet poodle, but their fur coats make them look much larger. They don’t bother humans, unless it is to snack on their small dogs and cats. The day before the flood I saw his cousin, on my paved street, at one in the morning. We have rabbits in the area. We don’t have outdoor cats. I like cats. And cougars. One was found hiding under a house right next to a sign on my training route that said “End Bike Path”. Perhaps it should have added, “…and Start Cougar Trail”. We’ve had bears come down from the mountains in search of snacks, and I’ve seen bear scat a couple times.

Aforesaid stream flows along 12 miles of my route. At one point it crosses an earthen dam (only a few feet high, and the water flows across the roadway) that forms a large pond. Egret, ducks, geese and storks frequent the waters and surrounding swamp, and wild horses come here to water and mooch from misguided people that feed them. In the hills above the pond, a wild horse actually came up to me and ate the map I was holding!

On one cold day I noticed a bike parked on the dam, and the rider was wading in the pond with a fly rod in his hands. Since there was a thin layer of ice on the pond, both the fly rod and someone wading in freezing water rattled my brain. I stopped and waited until he came back to his bike and spoke with him. Seems that he was from an eastern European country, here to work temporarily. We talked about fly fishing, and what species of fish were in the pond (I had seen large carp spawning there in the spring), and a bit about his wonderment that this lovely pond saw no fishing pressure. Uh, hello, it’s like frozen! I rode away with a new appreciation of the pond, and felt good about having stopped and talked to a fellow biker/fisherman, even if he was a bit optimistic about fishing through the ice.

Yesterday I managed to get a forty miler in, riding in a steady drizzle with high winds, dodging ice and snow banks. During the ride I passed two farms that had Llamas munching hay, one that had Alpacas, and another where the peacocks strolled unconcerned. A ways farther the Texas longhorn cattle were resting in a field where another coyote is often seen looking lustily at the geese feeding on small grass shoots. Speaking of geese, we have a huge gaggle in town. They have babies in the spring, and the cute tiny fuzzballs are a joy to watch. Last year I counted forty-two fuzzies being herded by three nesting pairs of geese.
Each ride is logged into my paper journal, and in my electronic one, plus analyzed and charted in my master ‘too-much-data’ spreadsheet. I’m constantly testing gear, weighing it and making notes of its performance.


Why do I ride? Perhaps it’s because I’m noticing that not all is time, speed, distance, weight, and frequency.  Now, how to log all those storms, floods, coyotes, geese, horses, ducks, fish, cattle, storks, and other animals into my tracking spreadsheet? I may need more columns. But then again, I would have to weigh a cougar. Hmmm…

Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Equipment: Lite, Ultralite, and Ultra-Stupid-Lite

                             If I let all the air out of my tires, I can save 12 grams!

Back in the day, which is to say back before evidence was all over the internet, thus I can claim anything without fear of being called out, I had a job as a climbing guide assistant, and in the off hours a dishwasher at the mountain lodge, or it might have been the other way around. Sexy sounding I know, and the most 'fun', besides teaching clients self arrest on the snow (sometimes they kept sliding!), was carrying garbage down from the high camp. For safety, we worked in teams of two, the logic was that both of us could get lost together. We made the chore even more fun by competing to see who could carry the most garbage 4,000’ elevation feet down the glacier in our frame packs. I seem to remember carrying 165 pounds once.

Newton’s Gravitation Equation: Fgrav = (G*M1*M2)/2 
Flash forward to my first run at the TD race several years ago. My kit was somewhere north of 30 pounds without water and food. My tent alone weighed 3 pounds 11 ounces. In Eureka Montana I mailed home over eight pounds of crap, and was still overweight in ‘equipcrap’.

Second try at the TD, my kit weighed 25+ pounds including everything that I wore, helmet, shoes and all. And still I mailed a bunch home en route. My entire sleep system then, new tent, new bag, and new pad, weighed a half pound more than just the tent I carried the first time.

It’s said that the best way to lose a pound of weight is to lose an ounce for each item, sixteen items at a time. Yes I obsess over gear weight. I’ve got a database of 228 items complete with descriptions, pounds, ounces, grams and such. Did I mention that an essential piece of kit is an accurate postal scale? Hi, I am a TD racer and I’m an Obsessaholic.

My next year list includes 19 pounds of gear. This includes bike bags and all I am wearing. What, may you ask, did I cut out of the prior list? Not so simple, as there’s cutting, and there’s spending money for new, lighter gear. Given a big enough bankroll, I could cut another several pounds out of the carry items, and several more off the bike. The big question is, how light do I want to spend? New for this year is a titanium bike, two chain rings instead of three, lightweight yet sturdy rear hub, lighter weight aero bars, but an added porky dynamo hub. So the entire bike weight comes in a pound+ less than the previous aluminum bike (with no dyno hub). Oh, and I don’t have to carry so many batteries.

One of the best ways to reduce weight is to take a critical look at yourself in the mirror, naked. Jump up and down; that which jiggles when it shouldn’t is excess weight. In my case I’m committed to lose an additional (personal) 20 pounds from last trip (before the first trip I lost 50 pounds, yep the big five-O). Combined with the reduction in kit weight, I’ll be carrying 26 pounds or so less ‘stuff’. Hey, compared to last time that’s essentially riding without a load!

Danger! Math ahead!!! Losing 10% of total bike/rider weight, I should be able to go about 10% faster up the hills, 0.8% faster on the level, and about 3% slower on the downhills (because gravity sucks, and it sucks stronger on more massive stuff). Take a look at the time savings on the uphills! Uphill riding is slow, thus I spend a lot more time riding hills (about 63% of total ride time) than on flats (25%) or downhill (12.5% of total time). So saving 10% on uphills translates to about 10% * 63% = 6.3% total riding time savings. Add 0.8% of 25% (time spent on flats): 0.8% * 25% = 2%, Subtract for downhills: 3% * 12.5% = 0.4%. Total them up: 6.3% + 2% - 0.4% = 7.9% overall time savings. For a 25 day ride that cuts almost two days total trip time! This should tell you where to focus your training…can you say “Hills” ?

Baggins
I can’t give you advice about bike bag brands, as I make all of my own. Sewing them is therapy, and all new bags are in the works. My new frame triangle is, er, small. How small? I calculated that I have room for a bag half the volume that of the former frame bag. Add a handlebar bag (sleep system), seatbag (clothes, etc.), a big 2 liter gas tank bag (electronics/snacks), a downtube tool/tube bag, a downtube mount for a water bottle, and two handlebar feedbags. In one of the feedbags I store my one liter water bottle with an attached pouch to hold bear spray, and in the other either another bottle/water-bag or food and junk, plus an external pouch for my water filter.

I’m taking a Sea to Summit ultralight backpack (2.6 ounces) that folds up smaller than a sour lemon, and normally will remain stowed. Food will hang in it, and if I have to carry extra food or water for a short time it’s handy. About backpacks: Don’t take a backpack for daily load carrying, just don’t! Your arse will thank you. An important point here is the ‘backpack vacuum principle’ – bags tend to suck in extra crap to fill the volume.  I know that Europeans tend to use backpacks quite a bit. Not sure why. I’ve carried a backpack and will never go back. Total bikepacking bag system weight: max 2 pounds.

The Emperors’ New Clothes
 Basic rule of thumb, take one item of each type of clothing (except socks – you may take two pair). Yes you have to live in one pair of riding shorts the entire trip, and no, the one jersey will do nicely. For my body, I’m taking riding shorts, shoes, helmet, jersey, arm sun sleeves, lightweight leg warmers, a hat, wool long sleeve baselayer, and my synthetic puffy 13 ounce jacket. Raingear includes a 7.8 ounce jacket and 7.7 ounce pants. Add two pairs of wool socks, and both riding and rain gloves and that’s about it. As an example of weight saving one item at a time, my bomb proof Gore Tex rain coat last trip weighed 15.4 ounces. My new one is half that. The entire clothing ensemble, complete with shoes and helmet, weighs 6.9 pounds.

Speaking of clothing, especially rain gear: You will get and remain wet for long periods.

Read that again. Your whiz-bang BlowerBreath fancy raincoat fabric will not breathe in the rain. And it will rain young Jedi, oh yesss, plus you’re gonna sweat buckets. Pit zips or vents are a must. The prime rule is ‘Wet and warm’! If there is any category where you can ‘cheat’, and take extra, it is clothing. Be sure that you can keep at least your core warm. Hypothermia is a big danger.

The general idea is to shed rain and keep warm by layering. So from outside in, the max layers (for me) would be rain gear, outer warm jacket, jersey, then a baselayer (long sleeve wool top plus arm and leg warmers). Probably not going to wear all of them at once very often. I’ve used both wool and synthetic baselayer tops on my trips. Get merino wool – stays warmer than synthetics when wet. Oh, and you don’t stink…too badly.

And while we are on the subject of down for insulation…If you take it make sure that the down is treated with some kind of water repellent at the factory. Not just the fabric, the actual down. No question that down is uber warm. Also no question that down, when wet, is basically useless. I’ve got a down bag, kinda heavy at 21 ounces, and it contains treated down. On the last trip I had some minor issues with dampness. Lesson – take extra steps to keep down dry, like keeping your bag in its’ own waterproof outer bag.

Sleep no more! Macbeth doth murder sleep!
Perhaps the most important thing you can do to ensure domestic tranquility is to take a sleep system that lets you get comfortable rest. In an emergency the shelter may make a difference between being miserable and miserably dead. Cerebro-chemical info: When you torture your body with long hours in the saddle, your body produces chemicals that interfere with sleep. Two of the hormones that appear to play a significant role in post-workout sleep disturbances are norepinephrine and cortisol. My first trip I slept like the dead, but was at a touring pace (60+ miles/day). Last year at race pace I didn’t sleep much. My mind was buzzing and some nights I did not sleep at all. Part of the problem was a slow leak in my pad. The other, I’m sure, was the chemical imbalance. Next year I’m coming armed with Ambien, just in case. Oh, and a better pad! Sleep issues contributed to poor performance and bad judgment, and I’m avoiding that road again.

Water water everywhere.  
I’m taking enough water storage to carry 6+ liters, consisting of one liter water bottle, and Platypus and Nalgene water bags. The Nalgene bag will be used at night as my pee bottle. A good rinse, put a tablet in it, and fresh as a daisy!  I used a Sawyer mini water filter last time and will take it again. The filter has a one liter squeeze bag that normally is ‘dirty’, that is, it holds dirty water to be squeezed thru the filter. I’ve used the bag before to hold clean water – simply fill with dirty water and drop a tablet in. Tip: Don’t let the filter freeze as it will split internally! Plenty of water in Canada and Montana, thru to Pinedale Wyoming; a water source will pop up every several miles. Rookie mistake #253 is carrying too much water. After that the Great Basin is a bit dry, getting wetter in Colorado. New Mexico is dry much of the route. Sure you can buy water at stores. Want more water storage along the route? Buy half gallon sodas. Nice bottles.

Be double damn sure that whatever method you use to treat water gets rid of both Giardia and Cryptosporidium. Iodine doesn’t. Chlorine doesn’t. Many water treatment tablets don’t. I carry Katadyn tablets as a treatment backup because it kills everything. Don’t be confused by tablets that release chlorine dioxide – that chemical then forms a strong oxidizer. It is not the chlorine that kills stuff. Rookie mistake #127, drinking from streams - clear water is not clean water! Weight of water system: 0.7 pounds.

Buddy, can you spare a spare?
 Repair parts include two lightweight tubes and patch kits (I run tubeless normally), a tire boot, 2 ounces of Stan’s sealant (tip: put some Stan’s in tubes when you use them), a derailleur hanger, a few miscellaneous bolts, tire lever, allen keys and Torx driver, chain tool and extra links, tire pump, chain lube, small multi-tool with knife and pliers, a CO2 inflator head (in case I buy cartridges en route), brake pads, a few zip ties, tape (wound around pump), and a couple spokes with nipples, 30 feet of cord (to hang food, rope cattle), and a cable bike lock. Total weight: 1.74 pounds.

Some tubeless riders carry one spare tube, some no spare (I call the latter ‘clueless riders’). Last time I put a tube in on the Rail Trail (not a flat – my fault letting too much air out for traction). Later, zipping along in the exact middle of Great-Basin-nowhere on the hottest day of the race, Bam! Two pinch flats, and another mystery leak. While patching five holes (three different patch jobs as I didn’t realize I had two sets of pinch flats), I reflected on what would happen if I didn’t have another spare tube, and this one was unrepairable; a long thirsty walk. So I take two spares. However, my new lightweight ones together weigh 6 ounces less than the previous pair of ‘normal’ weight tubes. Tip: a 26” tube will work as spare for 29” wheels. Just inflate it before the race and let it sit overnight to stretch. Weight – darn close to the lightweight 29er tubes.
Speaking of carrying tubes – wrap one around the front hub, secured with Velcro or a strap. The wheel carries the weight, not your bags. I’ve used that method for over 20 years.

The Official TD Race Cooking Setup
None. Nyet, Nein, Nicht, Nada, Nope, don’t even. Not even a cup.

Errata
Then there is the electronic stuff. Particulars are still somewhat in flux (pun intended): Last two times I used a Garmin GPS plus a simple wired computer as backup. I’ve been running this year with a lightweight O_Synce Navi2Coach bike computer that has GPS route uploading capability. At 2.6 ounces versus 6.6 for the Garmin, I can carry two with one as a backup (yes I’ve got two). Then again the Garmin will let me know of upcoming turns, campsites, food, etc. (I program waypoints with visible labels and proximity alerts). The dyno hub allows me to recharge the Navi lithium batteries on the fly, but I also have a lithium powerbank should I use the Garmin. I’ve got a power cable for the Garmin that allows me to both power and use it at the same time. Special sauce cable I made – normal USB cables won’t work.

My cunning plan is to run more at night, so I’m taking my trusty Fenix BT10 headlight. I may carry rechargeable batteries for it, or run it directly off the dyno, or both. Yep, cell phone with another GPS backup route application, plus charger (works with the Navi2Coach computer as well). I’ve cobbled together a wiring system that charges lithium, USB, and runs the Fenix directly off the dyno. SPOT tracker is in there somewhere of course. All that and a few pieces more come in at 2 pounds. Sheesh, I gotta review that list.

End of list
Add a first aid/medical kit, sunscreen, a few maps, butt cream, bear spray (13 oz.), money, passport, wallet, whistle, ‘personal paper’ and I come up with 1.9 pounds more.

As compared to the racing ‘Gods’, my kit is butt heavy. The faster you ride, the less you need to carry, plus those speedsters endure less sleep and generally take survival level equipment. When you ride close to 200 miles a day, several food and water stops are a bet, and hotels are encountered more often, so who needs gear?

Stuff it !
I laid out all my stuff and packed it into the toolbag, gas tank bag, feedbags, seatpack, and handlebar bag. Holy craparel – it all fit! All this contained without a framebag – WooHoo! Before I get too excited, I still will make a framebag, as I need space for extra food/water for long stretches. I well may make a partial frame bag though, and leave room for a liter water bottle mount in the frame.

Light (weight) at the End of the Trail
If you are struggling with what to take or not, have someone look over your pile’O’stuff. Sometimes I get so fixated on choices that I don’t see the excess junk that my wife does. Of course to her most of my stuff is ‘excess’!


To put this entire gram counting in perspective, one master class racer said it best, “I haven’t weighed my stuff, I just take what I know I need”. So there!