Since I last checked in, I surpassed 1,000 miles on my bike computer (purchased last September). So it stands to reason that, eventually, crazy stuff would start to happen to me along the way. You know... getting hit by a car, stung by bees, caught in hail storms. But I never really thought I'd get bitten by a goddamn dog.
That's exactly what happened last night. I was climbing Gaul Rd. as part of a leisurely 25 mile "easy" ride, and as I hit the third section of 13% gradient, I heard a large dog barking like a maniac behind me and a male human being yelling "Shelby! SHELBY!" I turned my head to look and this large black dog was chasing me down. So as best I could, I started to "sprint" up the 13% hill which means 11mph at maximum effort.
Not fast enough.
The dog ran up and bit me on the back of my left leg just above my achilles tendon. Having a large dog myself, I instinctively yelled out "OFF!" And it worked. The dog turned and bolted back down the hill. In retrospect, it was probably the loud sound I made as it bit me and not my clever dog-training command.
So I stopped to check the damage and sure enough, it had broken the skin with one of its canine teeth and blood was running down my leg. Further down the hill, I watched as "Shelby's" owner attempted to get the dog out of the road while cars and a motorcyclist passed by (fortunately avoiding me on the side of the road).
Once the dog appeared to be out of sight, I turned around and coasted back down to the owner's house to check on the dog's vaccinations. As I pulled into the driveway, a group four rather large women on the back porch alerted the dog's owner that I was there. I waved and smiled politely as the man approached. Large guy -- bright red face, as if he has been drinking beer in the sunshine all day. First sign of trouble.
I asked, "I was wondering if your dog is up to date on her vaccinations. It got me on the back of my leg and--"
The red-faced man interrupted, "Look, ever since this area became part of the suburbs, I hear it from those people across the street. Cyclists and drivers yelling at me, so no offense but this is ridiculous!"
"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm not responsible for other people. All I know is that your dog bit me and I want to know if she's had her shots."
"Yeah she's had her shots!"
"Okay! That's all I wanted to know -- she broke the skin and--"
"She broke the skin?! WELL I DIDN'T KNOW THAT!"
"Yes! But she's had her shots?"
"YES!"
"Okay. Thank you."
I started to pedal back up the driveway when my temper spilled over and I yelled back at the guy, "You know, maybe you need to keep your crazy dog on a leash or in a fenced yard!"
He shouts back, "I have 7 acres!"
And as I started climbing again, I shouted, "Awesome! Then why is your dog running around biting cyclists?"
And that was that. As I continued to climb, I dumped water on the wound and took it easy down Wooltown Rd. It's remarkable to me that a guy allows his dog to run free in his yard, then is shocked and defensive when the dog attacks passers-by. I mean, how entitled (or drunk) do you have to be to 1) yell at the person who was just attacked by your dog, and 2) not apologize profusely for it?
Anyway, I've been riding every other day recently to improve my pathetic average speed over mixed terrain. And last night, even in easy mode with climb and, of course, a stop for the dog bite, I averaged 15mph. Really working on maintaining a circular pedal stroke and a faster cadence. Some intervals, too. I think it's paying off, though not fast enough to outrun dogs on 13% climbs.
Showing posts with label Rides Under 50 Miles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rides Under 50 Miles. Show all posts
04 August 2008
13 June 2008
Sucked
Maybe it's some stress from work that sapped the mental energy out of me or maybe I just didn't fuel up enough.
Regardless, I tried some moderate climbing yesterday and I bonked worse that I have in a long, long time. About halfway up North Galen, I almost collapsed with exhaustion. I mean, I literally thought I was going to fall over after only around three miles of 5% climbing.
At that point, I totally lost the will to live and turned back. Which I rarely do. When first started riding, I would at least walk the rest of the way up a climb, but my head just totally fell apart yesterday.
Meanwhile, I went to the chiropractor this morning and Dr. Wolf adjusted my back. Suffice to say, it hurt like hell. When he adjusted the area that I injured, it felt like the initial injury all over again. Awesome.
I might try the North Galen climb again tomorrow morning with -- hopefully -- much more satisfying results.
Meanwhile, here's a video of Slipstream's Tom Danielson in the Pyrenees
training for the Tour. Towards the end, you'll see him fly up a 20% section on the big chainring. Which is inhuman.
Regardless, I tried some moderate climbing yesterday and I bonked worse that I have in a long, long time. About halfway up North Galen, I almost collapsed with exhaustion. I mean, I literally thought I was going to fall over after only around three miles of 5% climbing.
At that point, I totally lost the will to live and turned back. Which I rarely do. When first started riding, I would at least walk the rest of the way up a climb, but my head just totally fell apart yesterday.
Meanwhile, I went to the chiropractor this morning and Dr. Wolf adjusted my back. Suffice to say, it hurt like hell. When he adjusted the area that I injured, it felt like the initial injury all over again. Awesome.
I might try the North Galen climb again tomorrow morning with -- hopefully -- much more satisfying results.
Meanwhile, here's a video of Slipstream's Tom Danielson in the Pyrenees
training for the Tour. Towards the end, you'll see him fly up a 20% section on the big chainring. Which is inhuman.
05 June 2008
Repairs and Rain
So it wasn't just my brakes rubbing. It turns out the my rear bearings were intermittantly seizing up. Yep. That's probably why it was extra painful to ride a simple, flat ride the other day. My entire rear wheel was basically dead.
The guys at Technocycle fixed up the Kona, though -- repaired the cramped bearings, trued the rear wheel and installed some new rear brakes. Biggety bam. Just like new.
Yesterday, meanwhile, I did a quick 10 miles of climbing in the rain. And a lot of really, really cautious descending. In fact, I tried to ride up North Galen in the opposite direction. But when I turned right onto Preston, the switchback descent was -- sorry to say -- too scary in the pouring rain. This is something I have to overcome. Soon. I love climbing, but I can't be hindered due to the descents.
On Sunday, it's supposed to be 95 degrees. I can't wait. But as painful as it'll be, I'd hate to be the pros in Philly hitting the Manayunk Wall in that heat.
The guys at Technocycle fixed up the Kona, though -- repaired the cramped bearings, trued the rear wheel and installed some new rear brakes. Biggety bam. Just like new.
Yesterday, meanwhile, I did a quick 10 miles of climbing in the rain. And a lot of really, really cautious descending. In fact, I tried to ride up North Galen in the opposite direction. But when I turned right onto Preston, the switchback descent was -- sorry to say -- too scary in the pouring rain. This is something I have to overcome. Soon. I love climbing, but I can't be hindered due to the descents.
On Sunday, it's supposed to be 95 degrees. I can't wait. But as painful as it'll be, I'd hate to be the pros in Philly hitting the Manayunk Wall in that heat.
02 June 2008
"Attitude Determines Altitude"
I rode an inexplicably grueling 25 miles to Womelsdorf and back on Thursday. My rear brakes were rubbing, so that couldn't have helped. Regardless, my head just wasn't in the game.
However, the ride reminded me to mention here about the sandwich-board messages at the mental hospital. At the base of the Texter Mountain is located the Wernersville State Hospital: a well-known mental hospital in eastern PA. The best cycle route up to the mountain roads is directly through the hospital grounds via Sportsman Road.
The grounds remind me of the hospital in Cuckoo's Nest. Old brown brick buildings with old-timey doors and tall windows. Basketball courts -- three of them. I can imagine McMurphy showing The Chief how to shoot hoops. Fenced areas, capped with bits of rusty razor wire. Sometimes the patients are walking around the buildings in their pajamas and scrubs. They usually wave to me as I ride by. I always wave back.
Last Summer, I noticed a V-shaped sandwich-board along Sportsman Road -- propped up in the grass and adorned with an inspirational message spelled out in stick-on letters. I can't remember any of the messages from last year, but we were treated to a new one every month or so. At some point, though, the sandwich-board disappeared for the Winter, but I'm proud to report that it's back.
I always used to wonder whether the messages were designed for the patients or for the riders who frequently ride through on their way to big hills. Come to think of it, I imagine it's difficult to tell the difference between guys who wear skin-tight Lykra and hump their way up steep hills on bicycles... and actual mental patients. So it stands to reason that perhaps the messages are designed for both.
To wit: the newest message reads, "Attitude determines altitude." When I read that while on my way to several climbs, I thought to myself, That has to be for the riders. After all, I'm a firm believer that cycling is 90 percent about the brain. The body can adapt to pain. It's the 'attitude' that forces us to keep going when our legs and lungs are screaming for us to stop.
So to whomever is posting the signs... Keep going. They're not lost on passers-by, be they riders or patients.
However, the ride reminded me to mention here about the sandwich-board messages at the mental hospital. At the base of the Texter Mountain is located the Wernersville State Hospital: a well-known mental hospital in eastern PA. The best cycle route up to the mountain roads is directly through the hospital grounds via Sportsman Road.
The grounds remind me of the hospital in Cuckoo's Nest. Old brown brick buildings with old-timey doors and tall windows. Basketball courts -- three of them. I can imagine McMurphy showing The Chief how to shoot hoops. Fenced areas, capped with bits of rusty razor wire. Sometimes the patients are walking around the buildings in their pajamas and scrubs. They usually wave to me as I ride by. I always wave back.
Last Summer, I noticed a V-shaped sandwich-board along Sportsman Road -- propped up in the grass and adorned with an inspirational message spelled out in stick-on letters. I can't remember any of the messages from last year, but we were treated to a new one every month or so. At some point, though, the sandwich-board disappeared for the Winter, but I'm proud to report that it's back.
I always used to wonder whether the messages were designed for the patients or for the riders who frequently ride through on their way to big hills. Come to think of it, I imagine it's difficult to tell the difference between guys who wear skin-tight Lykra and hump their way up steep hills on bicycles... and actual mental patients. So it stands to reason that perhaps the messages are designed for both.
To wit: the newest message reads, "Attitude determines altitude." When I read that while on my way to several climbs, I thought to myself, That has to be for the riders. After all, I'm a firm believer that cycling is 90 percent about the brain. The body can adapt to pain. It's the 'attitude' that forces us to keep going when our legs and lungs are screaming for us to stop.
So to whomever is posting the signs... Keep going. They're not lost on passers-by, be they riders or patients.
26 May 2008
Backtracking (Get it? Back?)
I feel like the season has started all over again. This week was the first real week back on the road and my conditioning feels like I've been away for months. Between the resting and the Ibuprophen (which I usually don't take) my body has really taken a huge step backward. So now it's all about backtracking and regaining the fitness I've lost since being hit by a car three weeks ago.
Last Sunday, I rode in the rain with Lauren. It was a fun, short and very freakin' wet ride. Word of warning: saddle bags and handlebar bags aren't waterproof. Both of our cellphones were wet by the time we arrived back at the house.
Last Sunday was also the first time I've been back to the scene of the accident while on my bike. Psychologically, I'm not as healed as my body. I'm finding that I'm really paranoid about drivers -- involuntarily assuming that none of them are paying attention. So I've started to gesture/signal at cars through intersections -- my left hand out, fanning the air as if to say, "I'm riding through this intersection so slow the hell down!"
On Thursday I rode 24 miles out to Womelsdorf and back. Of course the whole way out was haunted by a serious headwind. I mean, probably the worst headwind I've experienced. The kind that pummels the eardrums. So I figure this is what they mean when they say that it's not all about distance. 12 miles into a strong headwind can be more challenging than 25 with a tailwind.
In addition, I tried the Wooltown side of Sportsman Rd (Sportsman Rd "North" I guess). I thought it cut straight through to Wooltown Rd, but nope. After a sharp left turn, it climbed straight up -- 15% for a quarter mile -- before dropping down to Wooltown. Suffice to say, I couldn't hack it. Not in my present shape. So I had to stop for a second, which was terribly disappointing. In my defense, I was cranking hard enough that my front wheel was pulling up and off the road slightly.
And so, thankfully, the ride back was awesome. With the tailwind, I was able to cruise 52-12 (I think) and averaged around 22 mph for the ride back.
Yesterday, Sunday, I hit the hills again. Made it up Martins again, then took the back roads off Fritztown Road which eventually connect over to Wernersville and 422. Then I hit the usual Sportsman Rd climb and was suprised to make it to the top without stopping. I honestly didn't think I was ready. But I think my head has started to come around.
But then... On the way down Texter Mountain Rd, I got spooked at around 35mph and leaned on the brakes too much. Suddenly, PFFFFFFFFFFFT! I'm certain that it was a heat puncture since there were about 20 pinholes in the tube -- each one leaking green slime (which was supposed to fill the holes). Fortunately, I had a spare tube with me. My luck improved when a guy from a nearby house -- also a rider -- let me borrow his floor pump. AND, the guy's family are Obama supporters. Good deal. I didn't have any cash with me, so I promised to do a favor for the next cyclist in peril. Pay it forward, if you will.
It turns out there have been two major crashes in the Texter Mountain area this season. Each one has been during a descent. One of them, on Huntzinger, involved a cyclist whose brakes failed. The dude apparently hit the guardrail and had to be hauled out via medical helicopter with a broken collar bone.
I repeat... All told, I've been very, very lucky. Now that my body is recovering, it's time to get my head back on track.
And finally, I'm honored to have been added to the Belgium Knee Warmers "Most Admired" list. It's my favorite cycling blog, and I'm planning to order two BKW "PRO" water bottles. Seriously, this is very cool. I hope I can rise to the BKW standards of cycling pro-ish-ness.
Last Sunday, I rode in the rain with Lauren. It was a fun, short and very freakin' wet ride. Word of warning: saddle bags and handlebar bags aren't waterproof. Both of our cellphones were wet by the time we arrived back at the house.
Last Sunday was also the first time I've been back to the scene of the accident while on my bike. Psychologically, I'm not as healed as my body. I'm finding that I'm really paranoid about drivers -- involuntarily assuming that none of them are paying attention. So I've started to gesture/signal at cars through intersections -- my left hand out, fanning the air as if to say, "I'm riding through this intersection so slow the hell down!"
On Thursday I rode 24 miles out to Womelsdorf and back. Of course the whole way out was haunted by a serious headwind. I mean, probably the worst headwind I've experienced. The kind that pummels the eardrums. So I figure this is what they mean when they say that it's not all about distance. 12 miles into a strong headwind can be more challenging than 25 with a tailwind.
In addition, I tried the Wooltown side of Sportsman Rd (Sportsman Rd "North" I guess). I thought it cut straight through to Wooltown Rd, but nope. After a sharp left turn, it climbed straight up -- 15% for a quarter mile -- before dropping down to Wooltown. Suffice to say, I couldn't hack it. Not in my present shape. So I had to stop for a second, which was terribly disappointing. In my defense, I was cranking hard enough that my front wheel was pulling up and off the road slightly.
And so, thankfully, the ride back was awesome. With the tailwind, I was able to cruise 52-12 (I think) and averaged around 22 mph for the ride back.
Yesterday, Sunday, I hit the hills again. Made it up Martins again, then took the back roads off Fritztown Road which eventually connect over to Wernersville and 422. Then I hit the usual Sportsman Rd climb and was suprised to make it to the top without stopping. I honestly didn't think I was ready. But I think my head has started to come around.
But then... On the way down Texter Mountain Rd, I got spooked at around 35mph and leaned on the brakes too much. Suddenly, PFFFFFFFFFFFT! I'm certain that it was a heat puncture since there were about 20 pinholes in the tube -- each one leaking green slime (which was supposed to fill the holes). Fortunately, I had a spare tube with me. My luck improved when a guy from a nearby house -- also a rider -- let me borrow his floor pump. AND, the guy's family are Obama supporters. Good deal. I didn't have any cash with me, so I promised to do a favor for the next cyclist in peril. Pay it forward, if you will.
It turns out there have been two major crashes in the Texter Mountain area this season. Each one has been during a descent. One of them, on Huntzinger, involved a cyclist whose brakes failed. The dude apparently hit the guardrail and had to be hauled out via medical helicopter with a broken collar bone.
I repeat... All told, I've been very, very lucky. Now that my body is recovering, it's time to get my head back on track.
And finally, I'm honored to have been added to the Belgium Knee Warmers "Most Admired" list. It's my favorite cycling blog, and I'm planning to order two BKW "PRO" water bottles. Seriously, this is very cool. I hope I can rise to the BKW standards of cycling pro-ish-ness.
28 April 2008
Three Rides
Monday, April 22
For the first time ever, I made it to the top of Martin's Road (25% at the peak) without cracking, but I suffered for the rest of the ride and couldn't quite recover from the early climbing. Nevertheless, I tried to take some new and different roads -- winding my way around the mental hospital area.
Thursday, April 24
Too much climbing. I rode up Sportsman and nearly had to stop during the insanely graded top section. It was one of those moments when I was literally a fraction of an inch away from yanking my foot out of the clip but, at the last second, changed my mind and kept on cranking up toward the top. The descent was incredible though and worth every painful minute of the climb. I was fortunately able to recover on the way down Texter, so I decided to climb Furnace Rd up to the celebrity rehab facility on North Galen.
Sunday, April 27
My first distance-ish ride (35 miles round trip) to Myerstown and back. The Sunday special at Risser's Family Restaurant: Snitz und Knepp. And the business that cracks me up every time I pass it? The Focht Agency. Anyway, just like last year, it takes me until the Conrad Weiser Homestead to warm up. Around eight miles. I really felt strong during the long false-flat after Womelsdorf. By the time I reached the Kumm Esse Diner in Myerstown, my left sit-bone was killing me. Hopefully that will go away after a few more break-in rides. Also, my left knee is holding up. No tendonitis yet.
For the first time ever, I made it to the top of Martin's Road (25% at the peak) without cracking, but I suffered for the rest of the ride and couldn't quite recover from the early climbing. Nevertheless, I tried to take some new and different roads -- winding my way around the mental hospital area.
Thursday, April 24
Too much climbing. I rode up Sportsman and nearly had to stop during the insanely graded top section. It was one of those moments when I was literally a fraction of an inch away from yanking my foot out of the clip but, at the last second, changed my mind and kept on cranking up toward the top. The descent was incredible though and worth every painful minute of the climb. I was fortunately able to recover on the way down Texter, so I decided to climb Furnace Rd up to the celebrity rehab facility on North Galen.
Sunday, April 27
My first distance-ish ride (35 miles round trip) to Myerstown and back. The Sunday special at Risser's Family Restaurant: Snitz und Knepp. And the business that cracks me up every time I pass it? The Focht Agency. Anyway, just like last year, it takes me until the Conrad Weiser Homestead to warm up. Around eight miles. I really felt strong during the long false-flat after Womelsdorf. By the time I reached the Kumm Esse Diner in Myerstown, my left sit-bone was killing me. Hopefully that will go away after a few more break-in rides. Also, my left knee is holding up. No tendonitis yet.
07 February 2008
Nobody Welcome
Two Sundays in a row... climbing. Last Sunday, January 27, I cycled up two different routes: first, I climbed up Sportsman then down the insanely steep Texter Mountain Rd. The switchbacks at the bottom are around 25% and too fast for my comfort level. Then I looped around Hospital Rd and up Furnace Rd then descended down N. Galen Hall past the celebrity rehab facility.
This past Sunday, I tried Furnace Rd again, but this time, I continued UP N. Galen Hall to Mountain Top Rd, then to the dreaded Huntzinger at the top of the mountain. But I only stayed on Huntzinger long enough to catch the amazing view. I decided instead to descend on Point Rd.
At one point, there was a "Visitor Info" sign with a handpainted "Nobody Welcome" sign underneath. I stopped to snap a photo despite the warning until I heard from *somewhere* an ominous shout, "Get him!" Fortunately, Point is steeper than the bottom of Texter Mountain Rd and I took advantage of the speed to escape whatever the hell that was.
Anyway, I look like a 6'4" ninja on a bike with all of my cold weather gear. I don't blame anyone for feeling a little threatened.
08 November 2007
Insane Week
My week has been so busy that I haven't been able to write about Sunday's incredible ride. It was probably the most beautiful and satisfying ride of the season through the mountains and Fall colors and crisp air. Yeah, that sounds sappy, but I don't give a shit. It's true.
I climbed Texter Mountain again via Sportsman Rd just like the previous Sunday, only this time, I descended Texter Mountain Rd into the valley to Rt 897. The views were amazing and I curse myself for not bringing a camera. It was definitely the longest and fastest descent I've ever tried. And the road itself was narrow -- a glorified one-laner.
897 was cool too, since I haven't hit that road since the beginning of August (my Google Maps aren't working right now for some reason). From there, it was Galen Hall Rd and back into the mountains. Then it was Preston to Hill Rd and back to Wernersville.
By the way, at the intersection of Sportsman and Texter Mountain, I swear I saw Karl Rove pass me in a white Acura. I think I need a vacation.
I climbed Texter Mountain again via Sportsman Rd just like the previous Sunday, only this time, I descended Texter Mountain Rd into the valley to Rt 897. The views were amazing and I curse myself for not bringing a camera. It was definitely the longest and fastest descent I've ever tried. And the road itself was narrow -- a glorified one-laner.
897 was cool too, since I haven't hit that road since the beginning of August (my Google Maps aren't working right now for some reason). From there, it was Galen Hall Rd and back into the mountains. Then it was Preston to Hill Rd and back to Wernersville.
By the way, at the intersection of Sportsman and Texter Mountain, I swear I saw Karl Rove pass me in a white Acura. I think I need a vacation.
03 November 2007
The Last 2007 Weekday Ride
So that's it for my weekday rides until 2008. The days are becoming too damn short, and eventually I'd have to skip work entirely in order to get a decent ride in. Tonight we turn the clocks back an hour and POOF! it's perpetually dark until next Spring.
Sundays will remain intact and outdoors until the snow, but the weekday rides will move into my basement once again, with the exception of perhaps some brief cross practicing over at the school (which also means perpetually changing over to my Maxxis cross tires). I don't really know if I'll be cut out for cyclocross, but it *looks* awesome.
Anyway, this winter I won't be destroying my knees on a stationary bike. I'm buying an indoor trainer today for my Kona, so I'll be doing my weekday evening workouts indoors while watching a 2-3 hour movie. I wonder how long that'll last before I rip my bike off that wretched apparatus and scramble for the door -- our cats tangled in my drivetrain, one of my daughter's drums inexplicably attached to the bars.
I hit the road Friday (yesterday) instead of the usual Thursday for various reasons. And in honor of it being the last weekday ride, I did both a time trial and some climbing.
First, the usual 10-mile time trial. This didn't go so well. I think I hit every red light through Wernersville on the way out, which sucked because I was in a real groove up to then.
I was really moving at around 24mph and my adrenaline was pumping because if I kept it up, I would shatter my previous record. Nah. I usually hit two red lights during each time trial (I know how stupid this sounds -- a post for another time) so my rule of thumb is that I drop 15 seconds off my final time for each stop in order to compensate for the deceleration and acceleration before and after the light. This time, I hit all of the damn red lights. And with on-coming traffic, I had no choice but to stop at each one (when there are no cars around, I cruise on through the red lights because I live on the edge, woo). I lost track of how many 15-second time subtractions I needed for this, but my head started to break anyway and I was losing my will for the time trial.
I turned around at the usual halfway mark and pumped up the hill near L&B Dodge and eventually back through Wernersville where a Trailways bus gave me black lung disease. I mean this son of bitch spewed the thickest blackest exhaust ever in America... into my mouth, throat and lungs... three times through the stop-and-go intersections of Wernersville.
I tried to get around this red and silver Smogzilla in order to salvage the effort, but the bus was too close to the curb. So I had to ride a couple of car lengths behind it. Slowly. With my lungs filling with hydrocarbons. Each acceleration of the bus dropped a big stinking black turd across the road. I mean, it felt like this bus was literally shitting in my mouth.
The bus eventually moved out of the way and I cranked with extreme prejudice and finished the time trial. And you know, all things considered, it wasn't horrible (for me). 31:52. But I dry heave when I think about what might've been. My average speed, due in part to all the stopping/starting/smogging, was a crappy 18mph. I need to find a more remote place to time trial. This is really stupid.
I finished the ride with a bit of recovery spinning, then I decided to climb up Furnace Rd and North Galen Hall. That was fun considering I was hacking and coughing Trailways ass cheese the whole way up. This is when I mention that the temperature was around 45 degrees. By the end of the 2 mile, 40mph descent down North Galen Hall, I looked like this:
Sundays will remain intact and outdoors until the snow, but the weekday rides will move into my basement once again, with the exception of perhaps some brief cross practicing over at the school (which also means perpetually changing over to my Maxxis cross tires). I don't really know if I'll be cut out for cyclocross, but it *looks* awesome.
Anyway, this winter I won't be destroying my knees on a stationary bike. I'm buying an indoor trainer today for my Kona, so I'll be doing my weekday evening workouts indoors while watching a 2-3 hour movie. I wonder how long that'll last before I rip my bike off that wretched apparatus and scramble for the door -- our cats tangled in my drivetrain, one of my daughter's drums inexplicably attached to the bars.
I hit the road Friday (yesterday) instead of the usual Thursday for various reasons. And in honor of it being the last weekday ride, I did both a time trial and some climbing.
First, the usual 10-mile time trial. This didn't go so well. I think I hit every red light through Wernersville on the way out, which sucked because I was in a real groove up to then.
I was really moving at around 24mph and my adrenaline was pumping because if I kept it up, I would shatter my previous record. Nah. I usually hit two red lights during each time trial (I know how stupid this sounds -- a post for another time) so my rule of thumb is that I drop 15 seconds off my final time for each stop in order to compensate for the deceleration and acceleration before and after the light. This time, I hit all of the damn red lights. And with on-coming traffic, I had no choice but to stop at each one (when there are no cars around, I cruise on through the red lights because I live on the edge, woo). I lost track of how many 15-second time subtractions I needed for this, but my head started to break anyway and I was losing my will for the time trial.
I turned around at the usual halfway mark and pumped up the hill near L&B Dodge and eventually back through Wernersville where a Trailways bus gave me black lung disease. I mean this son of bitch spewed the thickest blackest exhaust ever in America... into my mouth, throat and lungs... three times through the stop-and-go intersections of Wernersville.
I tried to get around this red and silver Smogzilla in order to salvage the effort, but the bus was too close to the curb. So I had to ride a couple of car lengths behind it. Slowly. With my lungs filling with hydrocarbons. Each acceleration of the bus dropped a big stinking black turd across the road. I mean, it felt like this bus was literally shitting in my mouth.
The bus eventually moved out of the way and I cranked with extreme prejudice and finished the time trial. And you know, all things considered, it wasn't horrible (for me). 31:52. But I dry heave when I think about what might've been. My average speed, due in part to all the stopping/starting/smogging, was a crappy 18mph. I need to find a more remote place to time trial. This is really stupid.
I finished the ride with a bit of recovery spinning, then I decided to climb up Furnace Rd and North Galen Hall. That was fun considering I was hacking and coughing Trailways ass cheese the whole way up. This is when I mention that the temperature was around 45 degrees. By the end of the 2 mile, 40mph descent down North Galen Hall, I looked like this:
29 October 2007
Climbing The Actual Texter Mountain
The mountain I climbed yesterday was definitely Texter Mountain. I don't know what that other one is called. But this one was definitely Texter Mountain, which I confirmed from various signs, as well as from another rider who stopped to chat while I was taking this photo:
The above camera-phone shot was taken at the top of Texter Mountain looking west/southwest.
The route was Sportsman Rd for about 4 miles of climbing. For most of the time, the climb was in the 5% gradient range, but at the top where Sportsman meets Texter Mountain Rd, the grade spikes up into the 18-20% range. I did pretty well and discovered some things about climbing, mainly the rhythm of it. My breathing a pedalling after a mile or so synchronized into an aerobic pattern and when I dropped out of the rhythm, it was difficult to get it back.
I've never endeavored to climb for this distance, and I was surprised how much I enjoyed it.
I turned onto Texter Mountain Rd (where I snapped the above photo) then onto South Mountain Rd for some of the most breathtaking riding I've ever experience. It was a super-fast series of descents through the ridgeline of this particular range of hills and mountains. Then more steep climbing over what I think is South Mountain before the long descent into Newmanstown. The below Google Map shows Sportsman in blue and South Mountain in red.
Total miles: 30. Outside temp: 50-degrees. Miles of climbing: approximately 8. Route: 422-Sportsman-Texter Mountain-South Mountain-Rt. 419-Womelsdorf-422. Path profile:
The above camera-phone shot was taken at the top of Texter Mountain looking west/southwest.
The route was Sportsman Rd for about 4 miles of climbing. For most of the time, the climb was in the 5% gradient range, but at the top where Sportsman meets Texter Mountain Rd, the grade spikes up into the 18-20% range. I did pretty well and discovered some things about climbing, mainly the rhythm of it. My breathing a pedalling after a mile or so synchronized into an aerobic pattern and when I dropped out of the rhythm, it was difficult to get it back.
I've never endeavored to climb for this distance, and I was surprised how much I enjoyed it.
I turned onto Texter Mountain Rd (where I snapped the above photo) then onto South Mountain Rd for some of the most breathtaking riding I've ever experience. It was a super-fast series of descents through the ridgeline of this particular range of hills and mountains. Then more steep climbing over what I think is South Mountain before the long descent into Newmanstown. The below Google Map shows Sportsman in blue and South Mountain in red.
Total miles: 30. Outside temp: 50-degrees. Miles of climbing: approximately 8. Route: 422-Sportsman-Texter Mountain-South Mountain-Rt. 419-Womelsdorf-422. Path profile:
26 October 2007
Climbing Texter Mountain
I think it's called Texter Mountain. I'm not sure. Whatever. Yesterday I rode two circuits of climbing near Wernersville. Furnace Rd up to North Galen Hall was probably the steepest longest climb I've ever made -- Gaul Rd seems like an overpass in comparison.
Looking at the Path Profiler in Google Maps, the steepest sections are 10%, 12% and 15% which are definitely the steepest gradients I've been able to manage. In comparison, nearby Huntzinger Rd (slogan: "Insanely steep!") is around 20% and maxing at 25% -- in the bottom-most section. 25% is truly insane. The steepest section of Gaul Rd, meanwhile, is 10% for about a tenth of a mile. And Gaul has a couple of short recovery descents. I'm beginning to feel a little silly for bitching about Gaul so much.
So I rode two circuits of this. 422-Sportsman-Hospital-Furnace-North Galen Hall past the Caron Foundation, then descended North Galen Hall to Hill Rd and back to 422. 20 miles total, which doesn't seem like a lot. But the climbing, of course, made the whole thing seem longer. Here's the Path Profile. I think you can pick out the Texter Mountain section (click to enlarge):
Looking at the Path Profiler in Google Maps, the steepest sections are 10%, 12% and 15% which are definitely the steepest gradients I've been able to manage. In comparison, nearby Huntzinger Rd (slogan: "Insanely steep!") is around 20% and maxing at 25% -- in the bottom-most section. 25% is truly insane. The steepest section of Gaul Rd, meanwhile, is 10% for about a tenth of a mile. And Gaul has a couple of short recovery descents. I'm beginning to feel a little silly for bitching about Gaul so much.
So I rode two circuits of this. 422-Sportsman-Hospital-Furnace-North Galen Hall past the Caron Foundation, then descended North Galen Hall to Hill Rd and back to 422. 20 miles total, which doesn't seem like a lot. But the climbing, of course, made the whole thing seem longer. Here's the Path Profile. I think you can pick out the Texter Mountain section (click to enlarge):
19 October 2007
Puncture-Free Thursday
At last, a ride without a flat. Most excellent.
And there's more good news. I topped my previous 10 mile time trial record by a full minute. 31:06 (previously, 32:01). Slowly but surely, I'm nearing a respectable speed and endurance level, but I'm still about 6-8 minutes away from achieving where I'd like to be.
After partaking in the open men's room at Shocktoberfest, I rode back down to Wernersville, then around Elm and Ruth to Wooltown, then up to Hospital Rd for some climbing and descending (no cars!). My front wheel was a little off true, so I made a pitstop at Technocycle for a quick tune-up.
Brad at Technocycle (he referred to this month as 'HOT-tober') mentioned that he thought my saddle was too far forward, forcing me to use more of the back of my legs than the front. Maybe so, but I'm hesitant to monkey with my saddle at this point because my knee-cap/petalla issues are gone. Zilch. No post-ride soreness these days. That makes me smile.
And there's more good news. I topped my previous 10 mile time trial record by a full minute. 31:06 (previously, 32:01). Slowly but surely, I'm nearing a respectable speed and endurance level, but I'm still about 6-8 minutes away from achieving where I'd like to be.
After partaking in the open men's room at Shocktoberfest, I rode back down to Wernersville, then around Elm and Ruth to Wooltown, then up to Hospital Rd for some climbing and descending (no cars!). My front wheel was a little off true, so I made a pitstop at Technocycle for a quick tune-up.
Brad at Technocycle (he referred to this month as 'HOT-tober') mentioned that he thought my saddle was too far forward, forcing me to use more of the back of my legs than the front. Maybe so, but I'm hesitant to monkey with my saddle at this point because my knee-cap/petalla issues are gone. Zilch. No post-ride soreness these days. That makes me smile.
15 October 2007
Updates and Flat Tires
Now it's getting ridiculous. Every time I ride, I puncture. And I'm pissed off about it. For instance, yesterday afternoon I set out to ride to Lebanon and back for a scenic autumn half-century, as well as to test my endurance compared to half-centuries earlier in the season.
Everything was going well. The ride out was slow due to a killer headwind, but I was enjoying myself and at the 20-mile mark, I really felt strong. Looped through Lebanon and headed towards home, savoring the tailwind and resulting speed.
Risser's Diner Sunday Special: "Beef Heart on Filling."
The most un-creative name for a taco stand EVER: "Taco Maker." Lebanon, PA.
On the ride back, I hit Stouchsburg and BLAM. Flatted. Without panicking, I pulled onto a grassy knoll, popped the rear wheel off, removed the tire and tube. Found the puncture. Patched it. Re-assembled everything.
Missed a puncture. Took everything off and started over.
This time, I punctured the tube while putting everything back together (there's no elegant way to put that last 8 inches of tire back on the rim -- you have to force it with all your might). Meanwhile, the sun was going down and the temperature was dropping. Went through this procedure again. No punctures, but the Presta valve must've been damaged along the way and the tube wouldn't inflate. No matter how hard I pumped, no air.
So I had to call for a ride. Nothing can be more humiliating than standing along the road waiting for your wife to drive out and rescue you -- whilst dressed in lycra and standing next to a disabled bike, rednecks and hillbillies slowing to gawk as if you're a crash-landed gay alien.
Anyway, I've been puncturing on almost every ride for the last few weeks. Most of the time, it happens at the very end of the ride. Two rides ago, I only noticed the flat an hour after I was done.
What the hell is happening?
I think they're mostly pinch flats caused by dime-sized jagged pebbles -- the gravel pebbles used in road macadam. And they're invisible/camoflaged against the road so I don't see them until it's too late.
Most of the time, they ricochet away from the bike at an alarming speed. The sound is usually a POP! or PING! then the sound of a tree leaves snapping as they're pegged by the flying projectile.
But lately, I think these pebbles pinch the tube just enough to cause a pin-prick sized hole. But what the hell kind of tubes are these? I think I need something heartier. So my mission this week is to find GOOD TUBES and to take one along with me from now on.
Meanwhile, I've been feeling really great riding. The computer is helping me to improve my overall speed and endurance, simply by giving me instant status reports. It's a real motivator and worth the $60 price tag.
And I've found an amazing new area to ride. The Texter Mountain roads beyond the Wernersville State mental hospital. Rolling climbs and fast descents -- NO CARS. And challenging enough without breaking my legs. However, Huntzinger Road... This will be another long term mission. I don't know the grade, but it's the steepest hill I can find around here and I can only get three or four pedal strokes up the bottom section of it before I have to stop. Put it this way, it makes Gaul Rd seem like a speed bump.
But I thought of a great riding slogan for Huntzinger.
"Insanely steep."
Get it? Mental hospital? Ah nevermind.
Everything was going well. The ride out was slow due to a killer headwind, but I was enjoying myself and at the 20-mile mark, I really felt strong. Looped through Lebanon and headed towards home, savoring the tailwind and resulting speed.
Risser's Diner Sunday Special: "Beef Heart on Filling."
The most un-creative name for a taco stand EVER: "Taco Maker." Lebanon, PA.
On the ride back, I hit Stouchsburg and BLAM. Flatted. Without panicking, I pulled onto a grassy knoll, popped the rear wheel off, removed the tire and tube. Found the puncture. Patched it. Re-assembled everything.
Missed a puncture. Took everything off and started over.
This time, I punctured the tube while putting everything back together (there's no elegant way to put that last 8 inches of tire back on the rim -- you have to force it with all your might). Meanwhile, the sun was going down and the temperature was dropping. Went through this procedure again. No punctures, but the Presta valve must've been damaged along the way and the tube wouldn't inflate. No matter how hard I pumped, no air.
So I had to call for a ride. Nothing can be more humiliating than standing along the road waiting for your wife to drive out and rescue you -- whilst dressed in lycra and standing next to a disabled bike, rednecks and hillbillies slowing to gawk as if you're a crash-landed gay alien.
Anyway, I've been puncturing on almost every ride for the last few weeks. Most of the time, it happens at the very end of the ride. Two rides ago, I only noticed the flat an hour after I was done.
What the hell is happening?
I think they're mostly pinch flats caused by dime-sized jagged pebbles -- the gravel pebbles used in road macadam. And they're invisible/camoflaged against the road so I don't see them until it's too late.
Most of the time, they ricochet away from the bike at an alarming speed. The sound is usually a POP! or PING! then the sound of a tree leaves snapping as they're pegged by the flying projectile.
But lately, I think these pebbles pinch the tube just enough to cause a pin-prick sized hole. But what the hell kind of tubes are these? I think I need something heartier. So my mission this week is to find GOOD TUBES and to take one along with me from now on.
Meanwhile, I've been feeling really great riding. The computer is helping me to improve my overall speed and endurance, simply by giving me instant status reports. It's a real motivator and worth the $60 price tag.
And I've found an amazing new area to ride. The Texter Mountain roads beyond the Wernersville State mental hospital. Rolling climbs and fast descents -- NO CARS. And challenging enough without breaking my legs. However, Huntzinger Road... This will be another long term mission. I don't know the grade, but it's the steepest hill I can find around here and I can only get three or four pedal strokes up the bottom section of it before I have to stop. Put it this way, it makes Gaul Rd seem like a speed bump.
But I thought of a great riding slogan for Huntzinger.
"Insanely steep."
Get it? Mental hospital? Ah nevermind.
07 October 2007
Setting Some Goals
I've set another training goal for myself and that is to eventually accomplish a 10-mile time trial within the realm of the Berks County Bicycling Club racing division TT results.
In other words, I want to be able to ride 10 miles in 24-26 minutes. The club record is 23:28, set by Mike Kuhn.
Friday night, I made my first attempt and I'm not ashamed of the result. 10 miles in exactly 32 minutes (three climbs, 422 from the DQ in Sinking Spring to Big Spring Rd and back). I think by next year at this time, I can reach that 24 minute "podium" level.
Meanwhile, the rest of the Friday ride was awesome. Just took it easy for another 15 miles. Rode out to The Crank, turned onto Elm then descended the (nearly abandoned) Ruth Avenue down to Wooltown, then on back to 422.
Then, I still felt strong enough to try to make it up Huntzinger Rd -- the insanely steep mountain climb just beyond Wernersville State Hospital. I don't know for sure, but that climb has to be in the range of a 20% grade. I was able to eek out three pedal strokes then almost fell over due to lack of forward motion. But oh yes -- I will make it up that mountain one of these days soon.
I backtracked back down the hill and turned onto Hospital Rd and had an awesome ride around the side of the mountain. No cars, beautiful scenery, easy riding.
Overall, I'm trying again on all fronts today.
In other words, I want to be able to ride 10 miles in 24-26 minutes. The club record is 23:28, set by Mike Kuhn.
Friday night, I made my first attempt and I'm not ashamed of the result. 10 miles in exactly 32 minutes (three climbs, 422 from the DQ in Sinking Spring to Big Spring Rd and back). I think by next year at this time, I can reach that 24 minute "podium" level.
Meanwhile, the rest of the Friday ride was awesome. Just took it easy for another 15 miles. Rode out to The Crank, turned onto Elm then descended the (nearly abandoned) Ruth Avenue down to Wooltown, then on back to 422.
Then, I still felt strong enough to try to make it up Huntzinger Rd -- the insanely steep mountain climb just beyond Wernersville State Hospital. I don't know for sure, but that climb has to be in the range of a 20% grade. I was able to eek out three pedal strokes then almost fell over due to lack of forward motion. But oh yes -- I will make it up that mountain one of these days soon.
I backtracked back down the hill and turned onto Hospital Rd and had an awesome ride around the side of the mountain. No cars, beautiful scenery, easy riding.
Overall, I'm trying again on all fronts today.
28 September 2007
Slow, Hot, Painful
I rode the Gaul-422-Myerstown route again last night and just couldn't get into a groove, unlike two weeks ago. In addition to being 86-degrees and not being able to push beyond some heat lethargy, both my hands and feet were killing me as well. And by the time I arrived at the Kumm Esse in Myerstown, thunder and lightning began to roll in so rather than resting, I bolted out of there. Even still, I just couldn't hit a stride for the "time trial" back.
Gaul climbing is getting easier every time. And the bike computer clocked my descent at the top of Wooltown Rd: 42 mph. Total ride distance: 36 miles.
Gaul climbing is getting easier every time. And the bike computer clocked my descent at the top of Wooltown Rd: 42 mph. Total ride distance: 36 miles.
24 September 2007
Hello, Computer
I tried out my new bike computer on Sunday during a typical out-and-back to Stouchsburg. Average speed: a humbling 15.7 mph. Top speed: 35 mph. Total miles: 30. Total time: 1 hour, 45 minutes. On the 422 climbs, I was averaging between 11 and 15 mph, which I felt pretty good about.
The ride out took exactly 1 hour, but the ride back was 45 minutes. Guess which part of the ride had the wicked headwind? On the way back, I was able to cruise at around 22-26 mph on the flats.
No pictures this time, but if I had stopped for photo ops, I would've grabbed a photo of the Risser's Diner daily special sign: "Stuffed Pig Stomach, Beltbuster Burger." I sincerely hope the two items weren't combined.
The ride out took exactly 1 hour, but the ride back was 45 minutes. Guess which part of the ride had the wicked headwind? On the way back, I was able to cruise at around 22-26 mph on the flats.
No pictures this time, but if I had stopped for photo ops, I would've grabbed a photo of the Risser's Diner daily special sign: "Stuffed Pig Stomach, Beltbuster Burger." I sincerely hope the two items weren't combined.
21 September 2007
Floyd Landis Memorial Ride
Local eastern PA Mennonite Floyd Landis was stripped of his 2006 Tour de France win yesterday. And I had a crappy 30 mile ride to Stouchsburg and back. Same route as last Thursday (Gaul-Wooltown-422).
Felt pretty good on the Gaul climbs, but shitty after that until around Robesonia where I picked up some energy -- this is usually where my warm-up ends and the real riding kicks in. Then the return ride was fun. Big headwind gusts from the east. Until I realized it was a headwind, I thought I had flatted or that my rear brakes has seized on the rim. Pulled into the Conrad Weiser Homestead to check, and only then did I realize it was wind. I'm smart!
Felt pretty good on the Gaul climbs, but shitty after that until around Robesonia where I picked up some energy -- this is usually where my warm-up ends and the real riding kicks in. Then the return ride was fun. Big headwind gusts from the east. Until I realized it was a headwind, I thought I had flatted or that my rear brakes has seized on the rim. Pulled into the Conrad Weiser Homestead to check, and only then did I realize it was wind. I'm smart!
15 September 2007
A Most Excellent Evening Ride
This post is a little late, but Thursday afternoon I left work early in order to ride. I figured an earlier departure would give me enough time to have a decent ride before sundown around 7:35-ish.
I hit the Gaul Rd. climb at around 5:45-ish , this time in a smaller gear (I've read that smaller gears and a faster cadence is better for the knees -- especially early in a ride). My legs felt great moving faster like that, but I was really gasping for air by the time I reached Wooltown, as usual. But I was satisfied that, yeah, it's getting easier every time. And I'm starting to work on conditioning my brain to ignore certain things. A pro rider once said that it's all about the brain -- the body can adapt to anything.
So I tempted the setting sun and rode the 18 miles all the way out to Myerstown: the tiny village along 422 with the big water tower next to the road, and a diner called "KUMM ESSE". By the time I reached Myerstown, it was about 6:50. Less than an hour to darkness. As such, I decided to "time trial" home. In other words, go as (steadily) fast as I could for the 18 mile return.
6:55. The goal: try to get as close to Dave Zibriskie's first place US PRO time trail result of 18 miles in 39 minutes.
This was the best I've ever felt on a bike (other than my sit bones which were KILLING for some reason). Seriously. I felt like I was flying. Even on the steeper climb at Womelsdorf and the steady climb into Wernersville, I was able to keep a faster pace and really move. I'm not at the level yet where I could time-trial-pump continuously, but I did the best I could. A couple of traffic lights forced me to stop entirely and I slowed for a hundred meters to watch a group of genuine Amish guys build a produce tent along the road. Other than that, I really felt like I was moving. I don't know how fast, but in comparison to other rides, this had to have been the most consistently fast I've ever cycled.
I reached the steady climb into Wernersville at the Zibriskie time: 39 minutes, and I still had another 5 or 6 miles to go. I hit the climb and concentrated hard in order to keep up my cadence -- which I successfully did. But the weirdest thing happened. When I reached the top and entered the town, my feet felt like they were literally on fire. I mean, hot burning sensation. It went away quickly but it was a hell of a thing. Anyway, yeah, I came up way short on my time trial goal but I figured -- hey -- I'm doing pretty good considering he's the American time trial champion, and I'm a 36-year-old, 6'4", 230 lb. rookie on a cyclocross bike.
At this point, however, it was officially night and I began to really worry about, you know, being killed. I have reflectors on my bike, but what driver is expecting a giant man on a bike to go flying down the road next to -- or perpendicular to -- his or her SUV? With adrenaline pumping, and with some refreshingly chilly evening wind, I booked as hard as I could towards home.
I pulled into the garage at exactly 8PM. 18 miles in 65 minutes. 26 minutes short of my goal. Ride total: 36 miles. I don't know if this "time trial" was fast or slow (probably really slow) for my level, but it felt really fast -- and more importantly for why I ride... it felt really good.
I hit the Gaul Rd. climb at around 5:45-ish , this time in a smaller gear (I've read that smaller gears and a faster cadence is better for the knees -- especially early in a ride). My legs felt great moving faster like that, but I was really gasping for air by the time I reached Wooltown, as usual. But I was satisfied that, yeah, it's getting easier every time. And I'm starting to work on conditioning my brain to ignore certain things. A pro rider once said that it's all about the brain -- the body can adapt to anything.
So I tempted the setting sun and rode the 18 miles all the way out to Myerstown: the tiny village along 422 with the big water tower next to the road, and a diner called "KUMM ESSE". By the time I reached Myerstown, it was about 6:50. Less than an hour to darkness. As such, I decided to "time trial" home. In other words, go as (steadily) fast as I could for the 18 mile return.
6:55. The goal: try to get as close to Dave Zibriskie's first place US PRO time trail result of 18 miles in 39 minutes.
This was the best I've ever felt on a bike (other than my sit bones which were KILLING for some reason). Seriously. I felt like I was flying. Even on the steeper climb at Womelsdorf and the steady climb into Wernersville, I was able to keep a faster pace and really move. I'm not at the level yet where I could time-trial-pump continuously, but I did the best I could. A couple of traffic lights forced me to stop entirely and I slowed for a hundred meters to watch a group of genuine Amish guys build a produce tent along the road. Other than that, I really felt like I was moving. I don't know how fast, but in comparison to other rides, this had to have been the most consistently fast I've ever cycled.
I reached the steady climb into Wernersville at the Zibriskie time: 39 minutes, and I still had another 5 or 6 miles to go. I hit the climb and concentrated hard in order to keep up my cadence -- which I successfully did. But the weirdest thing happened. When I reached the top and entered the town, my feet felt like they were literally on fire. I mean, hot burning sensation. It went away quickly but it was a hell of a thing. Anyway, yeah, I came up way short on my time trial goal but I figured -- hey -- I'm doing pretty good considering he's the American time trial champion, and I'm a 36-year-old, 6'4", 230 lb. rookie on a cyclocross bike.
At this point, however, it was officially night and I began to really worry about, you know, being killed. I have reflectors on my bike, but what driver is expecting a giant man on a bike to go flying down the road next to -- or perpendicular to -- his or her SUV? With adrenaline pumping, and with some refreshingly chilly evening wind, I booked as hard as I could towards home.
I pulled into the garage at exactly 8PM. 18 miles in 65 minutes. 26 minutes short of my goal. Ride total: 36 miles. I don't know if this "time trial" was fast or slow (probably really slow) for my level, but it felt really fast -- and more importantly for why I ride... it felt really good.
10 September 2007
Homecoming Ride
Not much to report from Sunday's ride. 30 miles to Stouchsburg and back. I hit some kind of boulder or asteroid in the road about half-a-mile from home and flatted. Carried my bike over my shoulder for the rest of the way. Before that, I stopped at the Conrad Weiser Homestead historical park. The poop there is that it was definitely Weiser's property, but the "home" probably wasn't his home. That's weird. More on Weiser here.
Also, I'm still monkeying with my saddle height. For almost the entire season, my patellas have been killing me after riding, but only after riding and only when I stand up from a deep crouching or sitting position. My saddle is plenty high enough. I think it's time to call in an 'expoit, although my chiropractor, Dr. Wolf, said it's patellar-femoral syndrome and that I should wear jumper's straps. I've been wearing the straps, but they aren't working -- other than to look silly. My brother the chiropractor said it could be tendonitis. More later...
Also, I'm still monkeying with my saddle height. For almost the entire season, my patellas have been killing me after riding, but only after riding and only when I stand up from a deep crouching or sitting position. My saddle is plenty high enough. I think it's time to call in an 'expoit, although my chiropractor, Dr. Wolf, said it's patellar-femoral syndrome and that I should wear jumper's straps. I've been wearing the straps, but they aren't working -- other than to look silly. My brother the chiropractor said it could be tendonitis. More later...
31 August 2007
One Day I Feel I'm Ahead Of The Wheel
Last night was the best short ride I've had in quite a while. 15 miles to Robesonia and back, and it felt great. I had less than an hour before total nightfall, so it had to be a short ride, so I decided to work entirely on technique. I focused on rhythm, speed and body positioning -- kept my head down and arms bent. Tuck position on descents and used the drop bars on the climbs.
I've also found that when the temperature is around 85 or higher, it helps to dump some water on my head every time I go for a drink, instead of waiting until my face is burning. Even at the height of exhaustion, this offers a tremendous boost in endurance.
Saw three other riders last night. One hoople with a complete Team Discovery Channel kit, which was interesting. At least he wasn't wearing yellow.
The ride also reminded me that the Summer is coming to a close. The evening rides will become shorter and shorter as night arrives sooner each day. Then again, Fall brings its own bits of excitement for riding: the scenery, the cooler temperatures. Can't wait.
I've also found that when the temperature is around 85 or higher, it helps to dump some water on my head every time I go for a drink, instead of waiting until my face is burning. Even at the height of exhaustion, this offers a tremendous boost in endurance.
Saw three other riders last night. One hoople with a complete Team Discovery Channel kit, which was interesting. At least he wasn't wearing yellow.
The ride also reminded me that the Summer is coming to a close. The evening rides will become shorter and shorter as night arrives sooner each day. Then again, Fall brings its own bits of excitement for riding: the scenery, the cooler temperatures. Can't wait.
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