127 – Trail Race

 Events, Running  No Responses »
May 072013
 
Running and riding in the woods is always better than the road. Today’s pictures are just some of the reasons why.

Tonight was the George Rogers Clark 10k trail race. I ran this same race last year after being talked into it by my buddy Kelly. At that time, it was the furthest I had ever run, and I picked a heck of a place to do it. George Rogers Clark State Park is a wooded, creeked, hilly place, with some fairly aggressive trail both in terms of climbs and descents, and rocks, roots, streams and bridges. But the experience last year was overwhelmingly positive, both in that I managed to finish the race without stopping, and that I brought home a 4th place trophy!

This year, conditions were almost identical, but I’ve progressed quite a bit as a runner. I warmed up pretty well and went out easy through a slight rain shower, knowing that I had to leave enough in the tank to handle all the climbs (8 of them!). The first thing I noticed was that my energy level wasn’t as high as I’d have liked, owing to total depletion during my race on Saturday, and my impulse workout yesterday. The second thing I noticed was that, even on the climbs, my breathing would get harder, but never out of control. While I did feel like stopping for a fleeting moment or two, I was able to almost laugh off the urge, where in years past, at this distance and with this effort level, I would’ve been fighting it continuously.

So the race went well. I battled back and forth with a few guys who were about my pace, catching them on the climbs and then losing out a bit on the flats. Eventually my endurance and course knowledge won out, and I was able to leave them in the last mile or so. While I had hoped to bring home some hardware, I didn’t place high enough in my age group, which was a little disappointing. Once you’ve got that taste, it’s hard to not expect it! Still, the result was entirely satisfactory. I finished the race in just under an hour, which is an 8 minute improvement over last year! I’m hoping to find a good 5k race soon, to see if I can log some progress towards my PR goal there!

126 – Press

 Weightlifting  No Responses »
May 062013
 
135, full lock.

I had planned on taking a couple weeks off from the weight room. The spring race schedule is just really tight, and to be fresh enough for the races, I can’t be blasting myself with deadlift workouts the day before. The plan had been to take this week and half of next off, and then get back hard on the weights and put my endurance training (bike and run) on cruise control for awhile. But that would’ve meant resting for two more days, and I really just don’t have the patience for that. My progress with overhead press has been a little unsatisfactory of late, so I felt like I couldn’t afford to let it slide for two weeks. Plus, when I don’t work out, I can’t eat as much (inner fat kid calling!), and I don’t sleep as well because of all the stored up energy.

So I put this up tonight. I remember a time when I used to dream of benching this weight. When I was a scrawny kid in high school (and for years after), I would’ve given just about anything to be able to use one of the big plates on either side of the bar. But I just wasn’t strong, I had no mass to work with, and was never taught how to train to get bigger or stronger, even when I wrestled. Now, I’m picking this up over my head, just because I wanted to.

Tonight, I put this up just because I could, after doing 3×10 and 2×5 working up to it. Then I drank some water, and hammered out 6×10 on lat pulldowns and 1-armed dumbbell overhead press. I’d only been at it for a half hour, so I decided on drop sets (80, 70, 60, 50, 40, 10 reps each) of easy bar rows, alternating (no rest) with sets of 20 decline situps with the bench cranked as high as it would go. I was burning pretty good at that point, but wasn’t satisfied, so I did drop sets of reverse curls (60, 50, 40, 30, 20, 10-15 reps each), supersetted with overhead tricep extensions, and alternating with sets of 15 double crunches.

That scratched the itch and burned the calories. I wasn’t destroyed when I left, but I’ll sleep well tonight. Which is good, because I have a 10k trail race tomorrow!

125 – Tan Lines

 Cycling  No Responses »
May 052013
 

I’ve had tan lines my whole life. I’ve never been terribly conscious about my looks, I’m not a huge fan of the beach, and I’ve spent a lot of time working (and playing) outside. The result is that I’ve spent most of my summers sporting a pretty normal farmer’s tan, and the last few years looking a bit like a raccoon from my running sunglasses. But this is a new one for me, the cyclist’s tan. My road bike gloves (which I’ve found out are essential for wiping one’s nose) cover the backs of my hands, leaving me looking like a mime or something.

Maybe it’ll even out as I do more running over the summer, but I kinda doubt it.

Still not as embarrassing as wearing lycra in public!

124 – Challenge

 Cycling, Events  3 Responses »
May 042013
 
Feeling fresh before the race start.

Today I competed in my first ever road bike race, Calvin’s Challenge, held in rural Clark County. It’s an endurance event featuring 12 hour and 6 hour mileage races, and 100 mile and 50 mile time trials, run simultaneously. A friend of mine had signed up for the 12 hour (the crazy bastard), and I thought I’d do the 100 TT, in preparation for an anticipated century ride in more challenging terrain later this year. A rather sobering training ride convinced me of the wisdom of doing the 6 hour, instead.

I’ve done a lot of different events over the past several years, from short running races, to half marathons, to mountain bike epics. But having never done a road race, nor anything for six straight hours, I wasn’t sure what I was getting into. That translated into a somewhat frantic morning, as I put together my cooler and kit for the day, not quite sure if I was forgetting something because I honestly wasn’t sure what all I’d need. As usual, I over-prepared, which is a good problem, but I couldn’t have known that when we left the house a half hour behind when I wanted to.

The race was tough. About as tough as I expected, given my practice lap of the course last week, and the fact that the forecast 10 mph winds had become 15 gusting to 25 by the race start. The feel of the event was friendly, though, and while the leaders were tense and serious before the start, we “normal people” further back were smiling and chatting right up until they released us. We started easy, the lead pack being paced by a support vehicle (albeit at 25 mph), and the rest of us just warming up our legs for the first mile or so, and getting our first taste of the headwinds that would dominate the majority of the next 25 miles. My legs came in quickly, and soon I was spinning along, hands in the drops, chugging out miles and passing a lot of people. I was hoping a pace line would form at some point, because I knew the course would turn us directly into the wind soon, and I wasn’t too excited about the idea of spending the day getting beat up alone through all that.

A few riders came past me that I couldn’t quite hold onto, but finally a group of about 8 guys caught me, and I latched on, grateful to finally have somebody to work with through the wind. I was already working too hard, and we weren’t yet an hour into the race! I settled in at the back of the line and let my legs come back to me, as we pushed through the wind and some rolling terrain. Having never ridden in a group before, ever, I made a few mistakes early on. We were slogging up a small hill and it seemed like the whole group just stopped, so I popped out of line and took the front, only to look back and see that I’d gapped the whole lot by 50 yards. Thinking that maybe I was just going to be faster than them, I continued on, only to have my ego thoroughly checked by the wind, and be swallowed up again by the pack. Later the group accordioned through a couple turns when I was taking my turn leading, and I again found myself alone at the front. This time, I took the opportunity to throw down some nutrition before they caught back up.

At 11 miles, we caught a break, as the course jogged Southwest for four miles, putting the wind directly at our backs. The pace of our little group immediately surged by 10 mph, and we hummed along the tar and gravel pavement, the only sounds being the whispery hum of our tires and the rapid clicking of our drivetrains. It was somewhat surreal, and a total departure from the entire experience of the race, otherwise. I grinned, enjoying the easy nirvana of it, finally understanding some of what my roadie friends have been about all these years. Sadly, this all came to an end too soon, as we turned left and back into the wind, everyone falling back into line and selecting more realistic gears on their derailleurs.

Twenty miles in, I had to find out what I was made of. Somebody took the lead in our group, and though I can’t be sure, it felt like he was trying to break us. Suddenly I was getting left, and two others dropped off behind me. The wind hadn’t slacked, and we had another seven miles of suffering to go before we turned out of it. I knew that if I let go of this group now, the next hour was going to be a long, miserable time. So I put my head down, clicked up a gear, and pounded. I tried to remember and use everything I’ve learned in the past few years of cycling, spinning all the way ’round the cranks, controlling my breathing, making myself as small as possible in the wind. It took me a half mile, and I almost blew up doing it, but I caught them again, basking in a mix of pride and relief when I felt myself get back in the draft.

Feeling strong, post-race.

Still, they didn’t slack. We pushed on and I had to really pay attention, all the way to and through the 25 mile checkpoint, and up to 28 miles, where we turned left, finally heading downwind and back towards the Start/Finish. You could almost hear each rider in our group (now up to 10 riders) smile as we clicked up a few gears and returned to a pace more closely resembling normal.

10 miles further on, though, it seemed like the exuberance of the group faded, and with each turn or hill, they seemed to go slower and slower. Finally I couldn’t take it any more, and after crossing a major road, I made a break. One guy came with me, and the two of us set off at a strong clip, taking turns shielding each other from the occasional crosswinds and wicking up pace to keep each other motivated. He was 50, so not in my class, which meant I didn’t have any reason not to work with him for the rest of the race.

We powered up the only real hill on the course at mile 49, took a left-right jog and streaked back to the pit area to reload and refuel. The group that we’d left came in a few minutes later, and I could’ve sworn we caught a few dirty looks from the guys who had been leading it. No matter. My new friend Brant and I decided to get ready as quick as possible, and we headed out again a few minutes later, back into the wind.

The shorter, 7-mile loop had just opened, and since we wouldn’t have the time to finish another 50 miler, we turned off and started lapping the short loop. During our second or third lap, I found myself doing most of the pulling on the upwind legs, and that still wasn’t enough. He was fading fast, and I still had a bit in the tank. When we turned onto the long downwind leg during our third lap, I couldn’t wait anymore and took off. Downwind, even after over four hours of riding, I could coax myself into 24-25 mph without too much trouble, so I figured I had better make time when I could, knowing that alone, there wasn’t much I was going to be able to do when I turned back upwind.

With one hour to go, and all by myself, I was starting to really suffer. My legs were starting to feel eerily similar to how they did on the Death March, just before things started to go really wrong. I was eating and sucking down electrolytes as fast as I could, but I knew I needed to be careful with my output if I was going to finish without hurting myself. I latched onto passing riders and packs whenever I could, but it wasn’t often. Heading into the wind, head down, on the small ring, I pedaled back to finish my fifth lap of the short loop just trying to survive, and praying for just enough strength to finish.

Lap six was spent, in equal measure, trying to negotiate with my legs for just a little more power, and doing math. I knew that they counted the miles you did on your last partial lap, so I was trying to figure out my decision points, since pressing on meant you had to turn around and ride back to the finish after time expired, essentially tacking on extra miles of riding after you were “done.” This was additionally complicated by the fact that miles one and two of the loop were into the wind, while mile three turned almost entirely downwind. I coasted through the pit for the last time, got a fresh bottle of water and HEED from Katie, and headed out to get as many “bonus” miles as I could.

A podium finish in my first road race? I’ll take it!

There would be no sprint to the finish. No grand, herculean final effort. Not today. After nearly six hours in the saddle, all I could manage was to keep moving forward, and that was good enough for two more miles before time expired. A small collection of us built up at the 2 mile mark, the courseworker jotting down our race numbers as we came in. I didn’t get to 100 miles, but I did get close. I finished with an official total of 94.5 miles, which put me a shocking second in my class!

I couldn’t be more pleased. I learned so much in this race, and to come out of my road debut with a medal, and having turned in so strong a performance against people with more experience and nicer bikes makes me very proud.

Finally, I have to give so much credit and thanks to Katie, who is my entire crew, and without whom I could never dream of doing the things that I do. She’s my fan club, personal motivator, nutritionist, psychologist, driver, mechanic, manager, publicist, photographer and pit crew. I’m so blessed that she’s also my best friend and my wife. So this medal’s for her. Thanks, babe.

Hardware!

123 – Birthday Surprise

 Events, Mountain Biking  No Responses »
May 032013
 
Picture by Jamie Clifton Images

So this year round training thing turns out to be really, really effective.

Wednesday was the first local MTB race of the season, MVMBA‘s FastLaps Race 1 at MoMBA. I went in with somewhat humble expectations for myself. I had only had three practice sessions leading up to the event, and had registered in the Sport class instead of Beginner. And thanks to some good PR leading up to the event, the turnout was very, very strong. Also my legs were still a little sore and tired from squats on Monday.

So I figured I’d go out conservatively and see how I felt, allowing the race to come to me and focusing on riding well, instead of riding fast. I had yet to really clear Hawk’s Lair, the hardest trail on the course, in any of my practice laps in the weeks prior. I told myself that, so long as I didn’t crash hard, I didn’t even need to clear it in the race. Just get through.

Then something funny happened. My class left the line in a mass start, and I didn’t get dropped in the field loop. My legs felt good as they warmed up, and I spun through the grass and sweeping corners with surprising ease. Once we hit the singletrack, I found myself all over the back wheel of a three rider train in front of me, who were parking a bit in the corners and losing momentum up the easy rises on Twisted. For about a half mile, I thought I’d just hang behind them, using them as pacers. I figured maybe they were making the same conservative start I had planned, and so passing them now would only mean they’d have to pass me back later on, which is a pain in the ass for everybody in a race solely on singletrack.

After that half mile though, I couldn’t take it any more. I let them know I wanted past and blasted through, standing up and charging to gap the riders behind me who were attempting similar passes. I expected the guys who had been stuck behind me in the freight train to come past me later on… But they never did. In fact, nobody in my class passed me for the rest of the race. When I got to Hawk’s, I picked my way through the rocks and roots, spun easily up the hills, and cleared it like I’d done it a hundred times. When I got to the longer climbs on Upper Stealth and Creekside, I kept my momentum up and kept a gear higher than usual.

It all just felt easy. All this time I hadn’t looked down at the clock on my speedo, because I was too busy trying to make a good clean lap, so when I came out of the woods and saw the clock at the finish line I was ecstatic! My goals for the race had been to cross the line in under an hour and not finish last, but instead I finished 6th of 12 in my class, and in a time of 52:17! To say I was surprised is a drastic understatement. All of my training, the hours in the gym, the cutting weight, all came together to make this the best lap I’ve ever turned at MoMBA. And best yet, I feel like I’ve got more in the bag! I can’t wait for next week! I’m going to try for under 50 minutes.

121 – Bombs

 Food, Life in General  No Responses »
May 012013
 

Where else better to ring in a new decade, than my favorite Pub in all the world. After my race last night, my lovely and gracious wife took me out to the Dublin Pub for dinner and a few drinks. Our server, on finding out it was my birthday, not only got me an Irish Carbomb on the house, but had one with me!

I love that place.

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