The Perfect Ride

Recently, a friend asked what constituted the Perfect Ride.

And even more recently, I was lucky enough to experience my answer first hand.

First, a perfect ride involves at least a dash (and hopefully more) of Epicness.  Distance, climbing, preferably a combination of the two.  The perfect ride is not SO epic, however, as to intimidate.  No 12% grade of gravel for 5 miles only to have a 12% 5 mile gravel descent awaiting on the other side.  Hard enough to be hard, not hard enough to be gut wrenching.

Second, a perfect ride needs a whole mess of friends along with you for the experience.  All friends need not be at the same fitness level, but all friends need to be willing to either step up and/or slow down to maintain a pace that the whole group can enjoy.

Third, a perfect ride needs a mix of tough and easy.  A nice talkable flat that is followed by a silent climb that is followed by a wicked fast descent.  Wash rinse repeat.

Fourth, a perfect ride needs a nice Store Stop.  If you can find some amazing espresso and homemade baked goods, all the better.  You stop long enough to catch your breath, but not so long that your legs are dead when you hop back on the bike.

Fifth, a perfect ride is not concerned in the least about how long the ride takes.  A perfect ride is flexible in route and mood of the attendees.  A perfect ride goes at its own pace.  No faster, no slower.

Last but not least in Sixth, a perfect ride has a group meal immediately following.  Mexican or Burgers are the best options.  Beer is a must.  This group meal may or may not be followed with icecream.

There are of course endless variations of this perfect ride.  My perfect ride may not be yours (especially if you mountain bike).  Your perfect ride may involve suffering until you puke, or crushing all of your ridemates, or peeing on your bike (Sorry triathletes, obligatory pee-on-bike dig, I love you!).

But regardless of the "what", all perfect rides create memories that last lifetimes.  They strengthen friendships.  They provide the best tasting food in the universe, Zaggat ratings be damned.

Most importantly, though perfect rides remind us why we ride in the first place.

Because riding is perfect.

Descending for Dummies

  

Read back to my first blog post regarding going down. 

http://gsooffnrunning.blogspot.com/2010/06/what-goes-up.html

Ladies and Gentlemen, I can report with unequivocal confidence that the above post is a thing of the past.  While I’m not going to barrel down at 75km/hr a la Tour de France, I do have some impressive local Strava segments of the descending variety.  

In fact, I will go so far as to share with all of you readers some of the gems of wisdom, and some busted myths, I’ve gleaned on my journey from terrified to terrifically fun. 

Myth #1: Do not use your brakes.

Fact #1:  USE YOUR BRAKES, but NOT IN CORNERS and DO NOT GRAB THEM SUDDENLY or RIDE THEM CONSTANTLY

               

To be fair, the above myth does have basis in fact.  When you are cornering, and brake, it takes away your traction and increases the risk of your rear wheel sliding out from underneath you.  In the corner you want ALL of your focus to be the tires gripping the road and you staying smooth through the corner.  Step down in your outside pedal (and stand up slightly as a result), and press down in the inside drop (See Tip #2).  Look through the apex of the turn.  Relax!

Do all of your braking BEFORE the turn.  That being said, DO NOT grab suddenly right before the turn, as it increases the chances of locking up your rear wheel.  So, what should you do?  Lightly feather the brakes to maintain a speed that you are comfortable with.  Off on, off on, lightly, consistently.  Again, NOT IN CORNERS. 

But please, for the love of God, use your brakes.  That’s what they are there for.  As you get more comfortable with your local descents, you will trust yourself more and use your brakes less. 

Tip #1:  Look where you want to go.  NOT WHERE YOU DON’T WANT TO GO.  Oddly enough, this   also works well with horses.  In a schooling ring, riding with 50 other people, most crashes happen when two riders lock eyes and panic.  Same thing.  If you do not want to go over the side of the mountain, do not look over the side of the mountain.  Look at the road ahead of you.  Do not look at the car coming at you in the opposite lane.  Look at the road ahead of you.  Do not look at the pothole 50 feet down the road. Look to either side of the pothole (preferably the side farthest from the double yellow line). 

Myth #2: Stand up on a descent

Fact #2: SIT DOWN ON THE DESCENT

               

With the exception of weighting the outside pedal in a corner, you want to keep your weight in the saddle on a descent.  Why?  The more weight on the rear wheel, then better the traction.  The better the traction, the less chance of sliding out.  STAY SEATED.  If you want to be pro and sit on your top tube, you are probably too cool to be reading this blog anyways, so good luck to you and your 10,000 carbon Di2 14 pound bike with 80mm carbon tubulars.  I hope your Assos bibs don’t get too many rips in them from your road rash. 

Tip #2:   Ride in the drops.  I know, I know, it’s scary, it doesn’t seem to make any sense.  But.  This piece of advice, when embraced, makes descending so much safer.  You can steer better, you can brake better, and your hands don’t get nearly as tired.  If you’ve avoided descending in the drops, please let this testimonial be the kick in the pants that changes things.  You will not regret it.  In fact, this was probably the most important step along my road to descending confidently. 

And finally, a Pro Tip that sums it all up, courtesy of Ashley Powell www.catup.com.

Pro Tip: Confidence. It really takes a lot to overcome the tires' grip on the road so the chances of sliding out are pretty minimal. If you get going so fast that you're uncomfortable, feather the brakes a bit to reassure yourself that you're actually in control, then keep pushing the boundaries to see how much more you can tolerate. In a short time you'll begin to trust the integrity of your machine and it's relationship to the ground and you can relish the other side of the climb instead of fearing it.

Happy Going Fast Downhill, everyone! 

I Will Blow You Up

I, Ladies and Gentlemen, am a ticking time bomb.

Lemme splain.

Early on when I moved to CA, I have to admit, I was depressed when it came to my riding.  I tried to wear a brave face, talk about how much fun I was having simply concentrating on myself… but when I listened to my bad ass friends describe the games on the lunch ride, I felt left out.  How on earth could I bring the “shenanigans” with riders who wouldn’t even have to put out effort to chase me?  How could I split the ride apart?  How could I play tactics and make people hurt, just for fun, even if it meant that I put myself out of the ride in the process?

So I turned to my own story and just tried to JRA each day, mostly with the slower groups. 

Today, when we assembled for the weekly B Roll (don’t let the name fool you), I had good feelings.  My legs felt nice, and I didn’t have to yell at anyone to keep the pace reigned in for the first half.

We were heading out on the usual gentlemanly-until-the-top-of-the-Uvas-bump pace, but then afterwards, it never really ramped up.  Never really took off.   

This was partially my fault, as when I got on the front I refused to put forth an effort to tire me out, and so the pace settled back a touch.  And when I got off the front, I told the next rider to keep it nice, as there was too much time left to start getting too surgy. 

But then, it stayed slow.  Slower than I liked for a B Roll.  We were heading into the sprint section, where usually we rolled at a good clip.  I was bored.  I was about 10 riders off the front.

And I took off.

I stood up, and pedaled as hard as I could, forcing people to wake up to jump on my wheel.  Some of them were too late and fell off.  Everyone had to actually put forth an effort to chase me down.  In seconds, we went from 22mph to 35mph.  My heart rate went from 156 to 184.

When the dust settled, I was off the back, having blown myself up at the effort and unable to get back to the front before the stop sign turn onto Watsonville. 

But for the first time, I honestly didn’t care about getting dropped.  I still had the biggest smile on my face. 

Because for the first time, I was the one who pulled Shenanigans.  I altered the pain threshold of the ride. 

Instead of blowing up, I blew it up.  

Strava tastic

Guess what bitches?

I have 51 QOMs.

12 of them really mean something to me,

Several of them are lunch ride hills. 

One of them is on a technical descent.

One of them is on a major climb local climb.

Are you lost?  Let me explain.

Several months ago, I caught wind of an office phenomena: Strava.

I asked what it was.

I was told that Strava was an online community that allowed you to track your rides against other people in the area, "competing" with them and yourself on different "segments."  Anyone could create a segment from a downloaded ride (which was possible via Garmin download or instantly through your iPhone's Strava App).  Some segments were silly.  Other segments had true bragging rights.

At first I dismissed the whole concept.  Why would I want to compete every time I rode my bike?  What good could possibly come of it?  I already felt down about my riding, so the thought of seeing my mediocrity broadcast on the interweb?  Not appealing.

As with all office peer pressure, though, I eventually succumbed.

And found myself proven completely wrong.

The thing about Strava is that even if you're not high in the rankings on a particular segment, you can always strive against yourself to improve.  It also gives you incentives to keep trying when you get dropped (invariably for me) instead of sitting up and pouting.  So what if I didn't make it with the main group, I got a PR on the Willow Climb from West to East!  I got a big ol' CROWN on my ride.  And that, as you are eating your lunch post ride, makes the rest of the day much easier to face.

Strava connects to the inner desire we all have as cyclists to go faster and farther than before.  It allows your solo ride to become, even for small stretches, a race.  With no chance of crashing, no entry fee, and the support of all your riding companions.

This Thursday for example, I will go climb Coe and try to get a personal record.

Maybe even another QOM...

Want to find out?  Follow me here:

http://app.strava.com/athletes/169227 

A Whole New League

When I moved out to California, it was apparent that I had some...umm...catching up to do.  Not only had I been off my training routine for long enough to make a dent, but I was also way out of my league.

Literally.

I was riding with former national champion titles.  Former world record holders.  Former Pros.  Current regional big dogs.  In addition to multiple titleless freaks of nature.

There was a B Roll, yes, but even then I was blown off the back by ride's end, always limping home with my head hanging down feeling inadequate and lame.  A poseur.  A Big Fish in a Little Pond.

What made it worse was hearing the recaps of all the shenanigans I couldn't participate in.  People playing team tactics, holding back, drilling it on the front, sprint lead outs.  It sounded like a marvelous game in which yes, you might barf, but you always came away smiling from the attempt.

I started to completely reframe how I saw myself as a cyclist.  I started to avoid the Lunch Rides in favor of SBCU rides, and even then I couldn't stay with the front group.  So I started to just ride, and tried to enjoy myself in my own right.

I also started to run again, pretty regularly, without really considering how it effected my cycling.  Because, well, what was there to save for anyways?  As a result, my legs always felt slightly leaden from the 6 or 7 miles I put down in the morning.

There were dark days in terms of my performance for sure.

One day, though, I decided to venture back to the lunch ride, just to see what happened.  And what happened?

I hung on.  Not for the entirety of it, for sure, but longer than many could have.

And I was still running, but no longer feeling fatigued by it.

Then one day, I went out on a B Roll, and finished with the very front group of about 5 people.  And did it again next week.  And again next week.  I rode with SBCU and stayed with the front group easily.  I could attack, and sit in, and play tactics, and crank it on the front, and do all of the things that I had thought beyond me only a few months ago.

I even attempted a 2x30 AT Interval set.  Because I felt like it.  And I AT intervalled the shit out of it.

I still can't and probably never will be able to stay with the lunch ride for its entirety.  I still can't do a lot of things.  But I can go up a steep Cat 2 climb without my HR ever topping 160.  I can drop people.  I can ride smart.


When I started cycling, everyone said that you went in a series of plateaus and improvements.  You got decidedly better, then stayed there, until you once again got decidedly better, only to once again stay there.

So what's the upside?

Guess who just jumped up to the next plateau?