First Day of School

Instead of walking home from the bus stop at the end of my first day of kindergarten, I followed a classmate all the way to his house. I didn't walk with him, but hung back a few steps. I don't recall why I followed him. Kindergartners are curious little folk. I suppose I simply wanted to be his friend. So instead of heading north to my house, I followed him at an inconspicuous distance of about 10 feet. That's a nearly imperceptible span for a kindergartner.

At any rate, when he arrived at his house, his Mom opened the front door and asked, "Well, who's your new friend? Are you going to introduce me to him?"

The kid I was actively stalking spun around to see me standing at the foot of the stoop. With his jaw agape, he preceded to shrug his shoulders and say that he didn't know who I was.

We fixed that right then and there with proper introductions. Milk and cookies followed while Steve's Mom phoned my Mom. After dusting off the cookies, we moved on to teleporting Cpt. Kirk and Mr Spock on Steve's sweet turn-the-dial transporter/NCC-1701 Enterprise bridge playset. Cookies and milk and Star Trek? That sealed the deal for me.

The rest is history. Steve and I have been best friends ever since.


Happy new school year everyone.

Cannonball

Summer's gone by so fast, it appears that somebody has done snatched the water out from beneath me.

CANNONBALL!

Happy Friday and back to school shopping everyone.

KOMs Are Worth Nothing and Everything

Strava King of the Mountains (KOMs) are worth nothing. And they're worth everything.

Allow me to explain. The following scene is taken from Ridley Scott's Kingdom of Heaven (2005), where the terms of Jerusalem's surrender are being discussed by the Crusader Balian and the Muslim Sultan Saladin. Balian asks Saladin what Jerusalem is worth. Saladin dismissively says, "Nothing" and walks away.

But then the Sultan turns back around to exclaim, "Everything!" It was a dramatic scene. Ridley Scott has his moments.

I wish Ridley Scott could bring to the big screen the drama, the political back biting and raw savagery that a Strava King of the Mountain (KOM) segment brings out among us cyclists. I'd volunteer to write the screen play. I'd lift much of it from Ridley Scott's big hits, like Blackhawk Down (2001), Gladiator (2000), and Thelma and Louise (1991).  Wait, what? Thelma and Louise?! How'd that get in here? I meant Alien (1979) . I'd love to take a crack at re-imagining the alien scene*-- you could take it to the bank that the little alien feller'd be ripping out of MOD's guts and stuff before the credits rolled.

But really, I'd steal only one idea from Mr. Scott, and that's from the The Kingdom of Heaven. It's the notion that the Strava KOM is the new Jerusalem, worth nothing and everything simultaneously.

For those not in the know, Strava KOMs give anyone with a bicycle and a GPS-enabled device a chance to race by comparing performance on the same course, even if it's one solitary hill. Over time, a tough KOM becomes something every local cyclist knows about, as well as who owns the KOM. If you happen to be that top dog, then you're kinda special.

But not really. It's truly worth nothing.

But take one's hard-earned KOM away from them? Ah, now there's the rub. It does mean something after all. And not just something, it means everything. I've seen it. The taunting. The bullying. Even war mongering. Looky:

It took some time, but Fred's Hipster Cruise KOM was inevitably taken from him.

Though MOD waged war, the Hipster Cruise KOM was taken by none other than local legend and budding hipster, Jonathan Neve. Oh the irony, and lost by 10 seconds to rub it in. See? Bullying, I tell you.

Many times, those dethroned will reclaim their KOM within 24 hours of losing it. The only known exception to this rule is Jonathan Wait, and only when one of his KOMs is lost on a late Saturday afternoons. Why? Because Jonathan chooses not to ride on Sundays. Therefore, take his KOMs late Saturday and you can rest assured that it will stand for at least 24 hours, maybe even more. In fact, take one on Saturday that's at least 50 miles away from his home, and you're golden. He'll be forced to take a 1/2 day of vacation on Monday to reclaim it.

Because, though it is worth nothing, it is worth everything. Especially to Jonathan.

I typically give Kudos to those who capture a Strava KOM. I do so because I'm aware that they recently had snot bubbling out of their nose and lactic acid burning in their legs as they huffed and puffed their way to Strava glory. I know. I've been there. So why not share a virtual thumbs-up with them?

Because really, though it's worth nothing, it's worth everything.

So there you have it. In short, KOMs are worth nothing and everything. I think this subject has been covered sufficiently and I have nothing else to say about it.

Happy Friday Everyone.

*** Lifted Alien scene cut from Strava KOM screen play ***

MOD is huffing and puffing up Surfside KOM at 37 MPH. Snot's bubbling out of his nose and sweat is flying off his brows.  At this blistering pace, he'll claim another KOM to his list of palmares. Suddenly, his stomach doesn't feel so good. He wonders, was it the Total Stress Score (TSS) that was causing it, or the remnants of last night's wine skin enema gurgling and swishing around in his upper colon? He can't dwell on it, there's only 500 meters to go. He turns his pedals in fury. Screw Brady. This KOM is worth everything. A jolt of adrenalin sends a sharp pain to his gut. Though the crest of the hill is within sight, he looks down at his rainbow striped skinsuit to see a bulge beginning to protrude from his belly. Oh my, it can't be!  It.. can't... be... 

RIP RIP AIEEEEEE SNAP-SNAP.... HISSSSSSSS SNAP-SNAP HISSSSSSSS !!

An alien with Shim's face has suddenly popped out from Mod's midsection. It jumps up onto the handlebars, throws his little alien arms over his head and hisses,"yesssssssssssssss" while capturing the Surfside KOM by a fully-extended set of inner pharyngeal jaws.

Roll credits.

The Leg Report

If I could make one suggestion for the good folks at Strava, it would be for a predictive performance report. It wouldn't be too hard for them to come up with a power profile based on one's cumulative workout history. That could then be used as base to compare against recent rides for some sort of predictive performance. It would be something not unlike how USAC does their pre-race place prediction.

The reason why I know this would be a very popular Strava feature is because my good buddy Shim already does this before every ride. He calls it "the leg report". Without fail, somewhere within five minutes of riding, Shim will sidle up next to you and tell you -- whether you care to hear about it or not -- how his legs are feeling on that particular day. It goes something like this:

"Hey Brady, my legs are feeling awesome today. I was a little worried at first because I rode a 158 miles to and from yesterday's RAGBRAI stage, but after a few minutes, they really opened up, and they feel great now. "

Some days he doesn't give you a leg report. But you know that it's good, because while you're trying to take an easy recovery ride, Shim's up front laying down a blistering pace and gutter-balling everyone in a brutal cross wind. This, while en route for tacos during a friendly lunch ride.

And then he'll tell you he was soft pedaling.

The funny thing about Shim is that if Strava did make such a report, they'd need only two leg report classifications: good and awesome. We all know what Shim's awesome leg report feels like. Good, however, is more loosely defined. It could mean both good or bad. Like, in the example above, he'd prolly say that his leg report was good, despite having having taken two local KOMs while riding the 158 miles RAGBRAI miles the day before. For anyone else, their legs would be thrashed. That's a good leg report for Shim.

Still, there are some curious outliers in Shim's profile that may need to be filtered out by Strava. Yesterday was one such example. About 20 minutes into our taco ride, Shim was nowhere to be found. I finally found him behind me, which is very rare. I drifted back to check on him.

"Can you be my soigneur?" He says

"Sure. What do you need?"

"Hold this for me."

We were riding on a crappy road filled with deep cracks and potholes that required all of one's focus to keep it upright. While looking forward and keeping one hand on the bar, I blindly reach out towards him, expecting to get a water bottle in my hand. What I got instead felt something like a shoe. A shoe? Nah, it had to be water bottle. But when I looked down, it was indeed his shoe.

"Why are you giving me your shoe?"

"Bad leg report," he says.

"What does your shoe have to do with your leg report?"

"Nothing. It's my sock. It's inside out and driving me nuts."

He then precedes to take his sock off, turns it right side in and puts it back on, all the while clipped in and pedaling with his other good leg and navigating the quagmire of potholes.

"That's better," he says when he's got his sock on correctly. "Can I have my shoe back now?"

I give him back his shoe.

"Thanks. Now be a good domestique and pull me back up to the group."

For the remainder of the ride, Shim had an awesome leg report.

Genu Valgum

Genu Valgum isn't Latin for Fred's favorite three letter acronym, GSV. No, Fred's TLA translated into Latin would be Juniperus Communis Hoohah Inebriat (JCVI).

Ahem.

Anyway, Genu Valgum is the medical terminology for having what's commonly known as "knock-knee". Apparently, I have a mild case of this.

To say I have a mild case of this may or may not be correct. You see, I haven't officially been diagnosed with this condition. Yet. Not unless Chris Spence has a medical degree that I'm unaware of.

I must admit that this whole thread is a kludge, right from the beginning. So let's back up and take it straight from the top.

My Physical Therapist, Mike Bartels, was present at a recent Wednesday night group ride. That was good, because for the past few months I've been meaning to ask him why my groin/abductors have been as tight as a bear trap. The internet suggested poor core strength as a possible reason. When I brought this up to PT Mike, he said that six pack abs does nothing for a spine that is as crooked as question mark. Now, I could have told you that Mike was going to say that. He specializes in posture and alignment issues. What I needed to next, he continued, was to schedule an appointment at his office...

Some 90 minutes later, after we had all beaten the living snot out of each other in hills, heat and humidity, Jordan remarked that Shim and Jonathan Wait's heads bob up and down when they climb hills. Shim and Jonathan wanted nothing of his feedback. I rolled up next to Jordan and asked for comments on my riding form. Jordan said that I was smooth as butter in the saddle while climbing. When I heard that, I flashed my most annoying grin toward Shim, gloating and such.

Chris Spence then rode up next to me. "You want to know what's wrong with your form?"

"Tell me."

Your knees."

"My knees?"

"Yes, I've noticed this for a long time. When you ride, your knees are really close to your top tube instead of being directly over your pedals. You should ride with your knees over your pedals for optimal biomechanical function."

It's funny that after all these years of cycling, I am only now hearing about my knock knees. Thanks for the feedback, Chris. Seriously, I appreciate it.

For the past couple weeks I've been mulling this over. Not so much the knock knees. What I've been mostly baffled about is that my own teammates, who ride with me every day, have let me pedal around all knock-kneed and stuff all this time. I'm looking at you, Shim. And you too, Savery. And Fred? You were there from day one. You could have prevented all of this silliness before it even started.

Having good form has always been important for me. Mostly, because I didn't want to look stupid. If I could somehow manage to look reasonably cool, then even better.

Back when I was kid, I tried to emulate the running style of my bff Steve Missey. Steve ran pigeon-toed. In and of itself, that wasn't so fantastic. But after scoring goals in soccer, he ran back to midfield with his toes pointed inward. That was it for me. If running pigeon-toed resulted in scoring, then that was the only way to run.

More recently, I knew better than to ride my bicycle in the style of Eric Brunt. Don't get me wrong. I have a lot of respect for Eric. He's as strong as a bull on a bicycle. But I noticed a few years ago at the Twilight Crit that when he hammered the pedals, his head bobbed up and down. It didn't look right and I swore on the spot that I'd never be a head-bobber. That's why I'm smooth as butter, Jordan. True Story.

But Spence's comment a couple weeks ago was a shocker. I didn't know that about my knees. I turned to the internet to research knock kneed cycling. To my surprise, the netizen had nothing but praise for riding with knees close to the top tube. One forum user even claimed that the entire peloton rides knock-kneed nowadays.

So in conclusion, I'm confused. Maybe Spence was incorrect in his assessment of my riding form. Perhaps Shim, Savery and Fred have known all along that riding knock kneed is where it's at.

Awe, the heck with it. If it's good for Tour de France, it must be good for me, right?

Hey Spence, the thing I've just started noticing about your form is that your knees are too far away from the top tube. You should consider the Genu Valgum Riding style. It's the rage.

Knock-kneed and pigeon toed, but no head bobbing!

Team Sky Chris Froome riding knock-kneed

Team Sky's Bradley Wiggins and Christian Knees, um,knock-kneed at this year's Giro

The entire team Sky all aero-kneed and such at the  TdF TTT