Rest Days and Dawdling Course Records (DCRs)

I was a summer-league swimmer when I was a kid. The team I joined was called Wheeler's Peelers, named for our coach Jim Wheeler, and it was a force to reckon with. Over the span of a decade, I think we lost one meet. There were several close calls. I can vividly remember one time when it came down to the last leg of the final race, the girls 15-18 medley relay. Our team was anchored by one of our best swimmers, Donna Diemer. She was 14 years old a the time, and was swimming up with the big girls (15-18). Anyway, it was all riding on her shoulders, and she managed to out-touch the other to seal the victory for us. It was high-stakes drama for all involved, and it was a ton of fun to be on the winning side of that experience.

I was a better than average swimmer, but not by much. The thing about me, even back then, was that I didn't mind the training. I put in the time, and did everything my coach asked of me. I honed my craft by doubling-up on both morning and evening practices. All that swimming developed some muscle tone. I'm not kidding you when I say that I had a six pack when I was eight years old. I have to admit, it was pretty impressive.

Apart from the six pack abs, I owe a debt of gratitude to Jim Wheeler. He taught me how to swim, then how to train, and then to compete. Yeah sure, it was only summer league, but running the tables for ten years didn't just happen automatically. It took a lot of organization and commitment from both coach and athletes to succeed each year. 

Coach Wheeler expected us to work hard, but he also expected us to rest well, too. On competition days, he'd plan an easy morning workout, even for summer league standards. For the all-club meet, he'd taper us over the course of a week. During rest days, he cautioned against strenuous activities, and heavy chores were forbidden. Everyone liked this clause, because it meant getting a free pass on mowing the lawn for the day. 

Jim wanted us fresh so that we could perform our best to score points for the team: five points for first, three for second, and one point for third. Every point mattered. Sometimes, like the case above, it came down to the final race. 

I find it interesting that I learned the value of taking rest days when I joined Wheeler's Peelers way back when. Today, as a forty something year old competitive cyclist, I respect my recovery time. When my legs feel like poo, or when I find myself getting irritated by seemingly trivial things, or when my training log reflects fitness in the red, I will gladly take a rest day. If I still feel like riding, then I'll go for a super-easy 45 minute spin at about 100 watts. We call riding at this easy pace "dawdling," and I excel at it. In fact, I am proud to say that I own several Dawdling Course Records (DCR) around town.

Now, if I could only get my spouse to buy into the free pass from strenuous activities clause. Then I'd have it made in the shade. I can just picture it now. "Sorry Katherine, I can't mow the lawn today, my coach has scheduled a rest day." Yeah, that's probably not going to happen anytime soon.

Happy Friday. Thanks for reading.

On Throwing in the Towel

I've been mulling over the motivations behind quitting a lot lately.

Take the Tour De Husker race a few weeks back. I was in the first chase group that was attempting to bridge up to the five money spots represented by the breakaway. Then I got dropped, and was absorbed a few miles later by the next chase group. We had about 20 miles to go, and apart from personal pride or general racing experience, there was nothing else to race for. I was more inclined to sit-in and save my legs for the following day's race. With about five miles to go, a teammate was showing signs of fatigue, leaving me wondering what to do if he should get dropped. Should I save my legs and ride it in with my teammate, or pursue the race for the experience? I tried to protect him from surges, but he was ultimately popped off the back when the leader of our group guttered us on the yellow line during a long stretch of nasty crosswinds. My hand was forced. I chose to race.

The second time I was questioning my resolve pertained to the weekly installment on this blog. I wrote about dissolving our pact and letting go of this commitment on last Friday's April Fools post. I meant it, too, at least in principle. Time is short these days. Going forward, this blog will be the first thing to get dropped when I'm pressed for time. Sorry folks, but that's the way it's got to be.  I'm not conflicted by this decision.

The third case of questioning my motivation came during a scheduled FTP test last weekend. To begin, it was a horrible day for an FTP test. Granted, most cyclists would say that any day involving an FTP test is a horrible day. But that day was particularly awful due to 40mph winds. Testing in such conditions is challenging, if not impossible, to get accurate results. Some would say to not try at all. Still, I was determined to stick with the plan. Anyway, half way into the 20 minute test, I glanced at my Garmin Edge 510 to check on my progress. To my dismay, the device was showing zero watts. I pressed on while toggling through the screens with the hope that the UI would somehow wake up from some stale state and show the watts again. Nope. The problem was in the powertap wheel. It was at this point that I had to decide to quit, or to continue on for the duration, knowing that the test results were bogus. I chose to throw in the towel. I have mixed feelings about this.

Of the three cases above, quitting the FTP test is the one I'm not sure I handled correctly. From a pure fitness point of view, there's probably no harm in skipping that test. Ten minutes is not going to make or break anyone's fitness. But in doing so -- by actively choosing to abort a difficult challenge in progress -- how does that affect one's mental fortitude? That's where I'm conflicted.

These thoughts have been bouncing around my skull lately. After the Tour De Husker, I asked my teammate Jordan Ross what he'd do if he were in my shoes: out of the money spots, racing the next day, and a teammate struggling to hang on. Jordan agreed that I made the correct decision to continue to race when my teammate was dropped. But then he also offered a stern word of caution about the dangers of quitting a race in progress. Very much Yoda-like, he said that once you start down that path, quitting becomes easier each time you do so.

As an aside, if Jordan had said, "...once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny..." then I would have known that he had copped that line from Yoda, and I would have written him and his advice off as fraudulent.

But I digress. Jordan was correct. Quitting a race is unwise as long as you're physically capable of completing it.

Okay fine. The timing of this evolving Yoda/Jordan/BCM Pep talk is good, as this weekend I'm joining the green and grey of Harvest Racing at one of the toughest venues around: The Twin Bing Classic. With lots of rolling hills, preposterously strong winds, and a formidable two-step hilltop finish, this race a toughie. On top of all that, this year's edition has an extra twist in that it is going to be held as a Gran Fondo format, which technically isn't a road race at all (but we're going to race it like it is one). In short, it's going to be hard on the body, and even harder on the soul. Thankfully, I've spent the past few weeks preparing for what's to come.

Thanks for reading. Happy Friday

Something's Gotta Give

First, an apology: I am sorry that I didn't post an update to my blog last week.

I have been a bit overwhelmed lately by work, household and play. After taking a step back, I've come to realize that I was foolish to think that I'd continue to have time to write while in this space and time. My current lifestyle is unsustainable. Not only that, but my personal relationships are beginning to show signs of fatigue. And my health has been teetering on breaking down due to not getting adequate sleep.

Something's got to give.

So it pains me to say this, but for now on, the first thing to be dropped is going to be this weekly post. If I don't have the time, which is seemingly more the case lately, then I just won't throw something up here because of a commitment I made to do so. Anyway, my posts have been rushed and/or not developed to my liking. This has often resulted in yet another story about my dog, which according to Shim, you've all had enough of.

So starting with today, I am stepping away from my weekly commitment to a post here. I relinquish Fred and Bryan from this pact as well. However, I won't dismiss Eric O'Brien from this pact, because after suggesting that we do this weekly, he has not written a single story. Not once. You're still on the clock, EOB.

Now this being all said, I'll still write when time allows. Check back here from time to time, regardless of it being a Friday or not. Chances are, you'll may find a new story about me, my bike, or my dog. Or all three.

And just like that, my commitment to a weekly installment is over.

Thanks for reading. Happy Friday.

An Inside Look

5:13 AM

Bleary-eyed, I shuffle into the kitchen to fix a single cup of coffee. Moments later, the Bunn coffee maker hisses life, pushing a cup of near boiling water through coarse coffee grounds.

I take it black, dark enough that I can easily spot the crows feet near my eyes as I lift the mug to my face. They're getting darker, more pronounced.

My fourteen year old dog, Emmy, has roused from sleep. She used to get up right away when she'd hear me walking around. She's been slowing down more lately. I suspect that her hearing is going. Apart from that, and her whitened face, you wouldn't know she was fourteen. Her frequent bouts of playfulness, and wrestling with me, belie the senior dog that she is.

Emmy waits for me at the edge of the kitchen, then escorts me to the dining room table where I take a seat. She plops down on the floor next to me.

As I gather up to take a sip of the inky goodness, I mentally scan the day ahead: a one hour conference call with the offshore team at 6:00AM, followed by picking up Katherine from her night shift, walking the dog, then commuting in to work by bike and bus. From there, back-to-back mid-morning meetings will bring me to 11AM. The only other work commitment is a 2:00 PM meeting. That gives me enough time for an hour workout over lunch, which according to the TrainingPeaks calendar feed, is a set of five nine-minute functional threshold efforts with 2.5 mins of rest between. I visualize a crisp spring wind in my face as my legs burn with lactic acid while driving the big ring of my road bike around the airport's service road.

I'm invigorated by the the thought of it.

A wisp of steam rises from the mug, bringing me back to the moment. Emmy rolls gently to her side and stretches all four paws at once, back arched, head extended. She lets out a satisfying sigh. I reach down and give her belly a rub. She thumps her tail a few times in approval. I take another draw of coffee.

I'm enjoying the solitude before the the onslaught of the day begins.

After finishing my cup, I stand and cluck my tongue. Emmy perks up, head titled to one side.

"You wanna go for a walk?" I ask while signaling my intent with both hands in American sign.

Emmy hops up on a fours, shakes vigorously, then runs towards the back door. I grab a light jacket and her leash from the peg.

"Let's go!"

The day has begun.

Overdrive

Several weeks ago I wrote about how I go to the airport -- my "workbench" to do interval workouts. With wide open space, little traffic, and predictable conditions, it's an ideal setting to get it done. The thing is, it's not the most exciting place to ride a bicycle.

Well, allow me to let you in on a little secret on how I cope with the mundane, especially when a grueling workout calls for several iterations of the BCM Pep Talk to psyche myself up. Through this little secret, I can put it into overdrive and zip through the session.

And by overdrive, I'm not talking about an over-sized chain ring like this jobby here:

No. While I certainly have chain-ring envy on that ^ ride, the one I'm talking about is the smartphone app called OverDrive that allows me to connect and download audio books for free from my local library. Here it is:

Thanks for supporting Omaha Public Libraries, Mayor Stothert!

Anyway, my buddy Lucas told me about OverDrive app some time ago. He said that he liked to listen to non-fiction -- biographies and such -- while sitting on the rivet. Following Lucas' lead, I tried a few from non-fiction, but as exciting as the "Biography of Henry James" might be to some, it just wasn't cutting it for me. So I wandered over to fiction and found a treasure trove of audio books. I've "read" several of these over the past couple months. Mostly current stuff, including those adapted into films like "The Revenant", and "Bridge of Spies". I then turned to the list of 100 books everyone should read, at least according to the GoodReads.com. I've read probably 80% of those already. Overdrive has knocked off a couple more in audio format, including "The Help", and "The Book Thief". Tina Fey's "Bossy Pants", however, has not yet made that list, but it is available on OverDrive and it was as insightful as it was entertaining.

So, my workouts at the airport haven't been a solitary adventure. I've had great company on my rides. In fact, the stories have interwoven with my efforts, but only during recovery portions as it would be too difficult to absorb the content of the story while producing ridiculous feats of strength.

That's why if you see me at the airport, you may notice that my face is wet and contorted in agony. It's either because of the physical exertion at 105 RPMs, or because of an emotional ride at 40 RPMs. In either case, you could say it's because I'm in overdrive, and it's cathartic by all accounts.

Happy Friday. Thanks for reading.

Disclaimer: I don't recommend using earphones while riding your bike on the open road. If you do not heed my advice, then for goodness sake don't be a moron; turn the volume down so you can hear the surrounding traffic.