Showing posts with label road racing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label road racing. Show all posts
7.02.2010
check out what you missed
4.07.2010
Race Report: Central Park 4/4
After the mediocre race Saturday, I was amped when I woke up at 3:45am Sunday morning. In a previous race report, I mentioned a certain breakaway I barely hung onto, and the fellow who initiated it contacted me after finding this blog. So after a barrage of e-mails, we resolved to work together in breaking from the field Sunday, giving me lots to ponder and prepare for leading up to the race.
I made my way over the williamsburg bridge (which, incidentally they've just today begun to resurface and re-stripe in a hopefully safer manner) into the eerily desolate streets of Manhattan, and took 1st ave pretty much all the way to the park. Funny thing about 1st on a Sunday at that hour is most people you see on the sidewalk are wasted and most of the cars you see are cops keeping them in check.
Kind of odd to be the only leaving home instead of struggling toward it...
I got to the start a little too early, I guess, because the organizers were just starting to place the cones out on the course when I made it to the park... I sat around eating apples and bananas waiting for them to finish setting up the check-in table...
I putzed around for a while, did a real fast warm-up lap, took a whiz, and ate another banana before it was starting to get crowded with racers.
We all lined up for the start, same as at Prospect Park, though this time behind the masters (35+). I guess the commissaire thought our fields were too small so he announced that we (the 5's) would be "racing with" the masters though scored separately. This of course elicited groans of irritation from the masters and clacking of kneecaps from the 5's.
I guess it would've possibly been more accurate for the commissaire to say "a few of the 5's will be racing with the masters, the rest of you are fucked."
At the whistle, the pace was almost 30mph. I'm not certain, but I think a LOT of the 5 field got dropped right then and there. I settled in behind my new acquaintance as we were still planning on trying our attack sometime around the second lap. we sat in the peloton and I was surprised at how much effort was required to stay in contact with these old farts - they were truckin!
I definitely didn't completely cast off any intention of attacking but by the end of the first lap, I knew it wouldn't stick; I was already feeling a little tired from the maniacal pace being set and there was no way we'd stay away with the peloton moving so fast.
On the hill at the second lap I followed my wheel up through the field a bit and saw the orange jersey of the Champion System guy from the day before driving the pace on the front again. No wonder we were going so fast. His m.o. is to ride away solo, but the masters weren't having any of that nonsense, keeping him reeled in the whole time.
At this point I began to notice that I couldn't see that many category 5 numbers (they give each category a different color, the masters are all different colors); I knew of the Champ-Sys guy, my Kissena friend, myself and I kept seeing one other guy, but that was about it. I immediately recognized why it was I was feeling so good about this race: I was riding with sane, skilled racers who hold their lines and stay out of trouble.
By the time the third lap came around I was simultaneously deep in concentration trying to place myself well for the final lap (oh yeah, I forgot to mention, we never attacked; I knew it was a pipe-dream from the moment the pace settled in) and also having the time of my life zipping around, not worrying so much that some noob was going to slide out in front of me.
We crossed the line and the pace jumped again, as we passed the reservoir I looked down at the speedometer and I was registering at 33.5mph on a flat (whoa). I tried to follow my wheel up through the field but he passed someone right before a turn and another rider compressed in front of me so I lost contact with my only ally.
I did a mid-field attack of sorts to try and move up into the leadout, where I was supposed to be. This was a mistake because immediately following that we entered the snaking downhill which doesn't last long enough to recuperate before the Harlem Hill. The Kissena guy moved up at the bottom of the hill and I followed as long as I could.
I felt my thighs pumping acid again (is that what VO2 max feels like?) but gritted my teeth and powered on as far and as fast as I could. About twenty meters from the crest of the hill I completely blew up.
There was nothing I could do... I had to sit, drop into the small chainring, bigger cogs, and keep the pedals spinning to keep my previous position (I climb fast, so I usually gain 10-15 places on these small hills). I think one of the masters could tell I suddenly started pedaling squares because as he passed, he patted me on the back and offered a quick word of encouragement.
I managed to stay in contact with the middle of the peloton and was heartened that I felt almost immediately recuperated in less than a few minutes. I again made my way toward the front and the masters kindly let me through since they still had a lap to go and we were lining up for the sprint.
Actually, lining up is a bit of a misnomer, a few guys at the front were in contention for a sprint finish but I certainly wasn't. On the shallow climb to the finish line I was sitting in around 20th place and tried to make up a few places using my only real talent on the bike: climbing. About halfway up I realized I wasn't passing anyone in my own field so I stopped hurting myself and held my position for the last 20 meters or so.
We rolled over the line and judging by the number of 5's I saw who pulled off to let the masters continue, I think I got eighth place, or near thereto.
None of our planning was put to use and neither of us won (not even the Champ-Sys dude!) but all in all it was a spectacular race. I think that before I started racing, this is what I imagined all races to be like, not the lolling, 15mph starts of the usual cat 5 races. Considering I held onto the front of a field that was going MUCH faster than I was used to, and that was above my skill level, I felt pretty good about my effort.
-
I've often noted that racing a bicycle is a lot like playing a car-racing video game (sorry, I'm of the "Gran Turismo generation"). Since Gran Turismo was, when I was growing up, the A-1 racing game, I tend to draw a lot of parallels between racing my bike and my virtual sports cars. One thing in particular is how the first time you play the game, it seems easy, though you definitely won't come in first... After getting the hang of things, you become better and better at "driving" and even with an unmodified car, you can school noobs on almost any track.
So naturally I wonder if my experience racing with the masters this Sunday will affect my performance this coming weekend. If we're not grouped with a lower category again, I wonder if I'll feel more able to play with the field, make effective moves, and possibly ride away on an attack...
Saturday I'll be in Newark for the Cherry Blossom Challenge, and Sunday I'll be back at Central Park...
Until next time
I made my way over the williamsburg bridge (which, incidentally they've just today begun to resurface and re-stripe in a hopefully safer manner) into the eerily desolate streets of Manhattan, and took 1st ave pretty much all the way to the park. Funny thing about 1st on a Sunday at that hour is most people you see on the sidewalk are wasted and most of the cars you see are cops keeping them in check.
Kind of odd to be the only leaving home instead of struggling toward it...
I got to the start a little too early, I guess, because the organizers were just starting to place the cones out on the course when I made it to the park... I sat around eating apples and bananas waiting for them to finish setting up the check-in table...
I putzed around for a while, did a real fast warm-up lap, took a whiz, and ate another banana before it was starting to get crowded with racers.
We all lined up for the start, same as at Prospect Park, though this time behind the masters (35+). I guess the commissaire thought our fields were too small so he announced that we (the 5's) would be "racing with" the masters though scored separately. This of course elicited groans of irritation from the masters and clacking of kneecaps from the 5's.
I guess it would've possibly been more accurate for the commissaire to say "a few of the 5's will be racing with the masters, the rest of you are fucked."
At the whistle, the pace was almost 30mph. I'm not certain, but I think a LOT of the 5 field got dropped right then and there. I settled in behind my new acquaintance as we were still planning on trying our attack sometime around the second lap. we sat in the peloton and I was surprised at how much effort was required to stay in contact with these old farts - they were truckin!
I definitely didn't completely cast off any intention of attacking but by the end of the first lap, I knew it wouldn't stick; I was already feeling a little tired from the maniacal pace being set and there was no way we'd stay away with the peloton moving so fast.
On the hill at the second lap I followed my wheel up through the field a bit and saw the orange jersey of the Champion System guy from the day before driving the pace on the front again. No wonder we were going so fast. His m.o. is to ride away solo, but the masters weren't having any of that nonsense, keeping him reeled in the whole time.
At this point I began to notice that I couldn't see that many category 5 numbers (they give each category a different color, the masters are all different colors); I knew of the Champ-Sys guy, my Kissena friend, myself and I kept seeing one other guy, but that was about it. I immediately recognized why it was I was feeling so good about this race: I was riding with sane, skilled racers who hold their lines and stay out of trouble.
By the time the third lap came around I was simultaneously deep in concentration trying to place myself well for the final lap (oh yeah, I forgot to mention, we never attacked; I knew it was a pipe-dream from the moment the pace settled in) and also having the time of my life zipping around, not worrying so much that some noob was going to slide out in front of me.
We crossed the line and the pace jumped again, as we passed the reservoir I looked down at the speedometer and I was registering at 33.5mph on a flat (whoa). I tried to follow my wheel up through the field but he passed someone right before a turn and another rider compressed in front of me so I lost contact with my only ally.
I did a mid-field attack of sorts to try and move up into the leadout, where I was supposed to be. This was a mistake because immediately following that we entered the snaking downhill which doesn't last long enough to recuperate before the Harlem Hill. The Kissena guy moved up at the bottom of the hill and I followed as long as I could.
I felt my thighs pumping acid again (is that what VO2 max feels like?) but gritted my teeth and powered on as far and as fast as I could. About twenty meters from the crest of the hill I completely blew up.
There was nothing I could do... I had to sit, drop into the small chainring, bigger cogs, and keep the pedals spinning to keep my previous position (I climb fast, so I usually gain 10-15 places on these small hills). I think one of the masters could tell I suddenly started pedaling squares because as he passed, he patted me on the back and offered a quick word of encouragement.
I managed to stay in contact with the middle of the peloton and was heartened that I felt almost immediately recuperated in less than a few minutes. I again made my way toward the front and the masters kindly let me through since they still had a lap to go and we were lining up for the sprint.
Actually, lining up is a bit of a misnomer, a few guys at the front were in contention for a sprint finish but I certainly wasn't. On the shallow climb to the finish line I was sitting in around 20th place and tried to make up a few places using my only real talent on the bike: climbing. About halfway up I realized I wasn't passing anyone in my own field so I stopped hurting myself and held my position for the last 20 meters or so.
We rolled over the line and judging by the number of 5's I saw who pulled off to let the masters continue, I think I got eighth place, or near thereto.
None of our planning was put to use and neither of us won (not even the Champ-Sys dude!) but all in all it was a spectacular race. I think that before I started racing, this is what I imagined all races to be like, not the lolling, 15mph starts of the usual cat 5 races. Considering I held onto the front of a field that was going MUCH faster than I was used to, and that was above my skill level, I felt pretty good about my effort.
-
I've often noted that racing a bicycle is a lot like playing a car-racing video game (sorry, I'm of the "Gran Turismo generation"). Since Gran Turismo was, when I was growing up, the A-1 racing game, I tend to draw a lot of parallels between racing my bike and my virtual sports cars. One thing in particular is how the first time you play the game, it seems easy, though you definitely won't come in first... After getting the hang of things, you become better and better at "driving" and even with an unmodified car, you can school noobs on almost any track.
So naturally I wonder if my experience racing with the masters this Sunday will affect my performance this coming weekend. If we're not grouped with a lower category again, I wonder if I'll feel more able to play with the field, make effective moves, and possibly ride away on an attack...
Saturday I'll be in Newark for the Cherry Blossom Challenge, and Sunday I'll be back at Central Park...
Until next time
4.06.2010
...paparazzi
Real fast, I thought I'd share a couple images from the races with y'all.
All of these photosets were found via cyclingreporter.com, which I recently found to be an awesome repository of NYC's local races. let the narcissism commence:
All of these photosets were found via cyclingreporter.com, which I recently found to be an awesome repository of NYC's local races. let the narcissism commence:
FBF 3/27 via Eddie Mazaev's Flickr
FBF 3/27 via Eddie Mazaev's Flickr
FBF 3/20 via Eddie Mazaev's Flickr
FBF 3/27 via Gina Green @ Organic Athlete
...a quick lesson in race tactics/ettiquete
As a fast follow-up to saturday's race report, I wanted to explore an interesting phenomena that I believe only happens in the 5's.
When recreationally riding or competitively racing, one quickly realizes the benefits of drafting behind others, letting them do the work for you. In time, you get more comfortable riding extremely (onlookers might use the term suicidally) close to others at high rates of speed, building trust amongst the group. There are a multitude of ways to draft, but categorically, they can be divided into two distinct types:
cooperative pacelining and uncooperative drafting (aka wheelsucking)
Study for a moment, if you will, the above diagram showing four of the more common formations. Note that in each, the arrows imply group effort; when the lead rider is tired or has pulled his fair share, he slides to the back, while a fresh rider "pulls through", all the while maintaining the pace.
Obviously this is a grossly idealized representation of cycling in formation as any number issues can and will disrupt the smoothness of the group. Professional teams ride in this way while on training rides; and though things certainly appear more disorganized in a professional-level race, that is simply due to the simple fact that its a race and jockeying for position, blocking, etc.. are obvious tactics to be employed. Nonetheless, talented racers still concede that without the combined efforts of different riders from different teams, the race will suffer.
Now in category 5, my current hovel, racing tactics are either unknown or disregarded by nearly everyone. Even those who, like myself, have familiarized themselves with good racing skills, don't make use of these rudimentary maneuvers.
This is exemplified at pretty much every cat 5 race in the following way:
1. There is a peloton (if it could be called such) and at the front of that group there certainly is a leadout train comprised of 5-10 of the stronger riders in the field. They will do the majority of the work for the entire race.
2. Everyone is worried about getting dropped so nobody risks hard efforts on the front trying to do things like chase breakaways or drive the pace higher.
3. Nearly everyone is gunning for first (who doesn't want to win?), and coupled with the above point, riders huddle en masse, trying to conserve as much energy as possible for the sprint.
4. The pace fluctuates dramatically. Since most are concerned about their ability to just hang on, when one rider who's been pulling for far longer than he really should have tires, nobody pulls through. His pace drops significantly, which in turn slows the whole field.
To this last point, Every time I've pulled on the front to help out of just to try and blow the field apart, those that hang onto my wheel simply stay there. Swerve to the left and the leadout swerves left, swerve right, they go right... At Floyd Bennett Field on the previous weekend, I had to physically turn around, look the next rider in the eye and yell, "PULL! I'M OFF!" only then did someone share in the responsibility of keeping the pace up.
I think that if I can establish a breakaway with some other riders this weekend, we'll likely get an opportunity to make use of some serious progressive pacelining. Then again, when you try to break from the field in the 5's, everyone sees their chances at first disappearing and they all suddenly find their legs, making successful breaks rare.
As an aside, my favorite formation to see or be a part of is what I call progressive pacelining. It's the same as the single paceline illustrated above, but the direction of the arrows is reversed so the last rider rides up and takes the front position from the now-second-in-line rider. This very fast formation is used when you sense the peloton breathing down your neck but you think you've still got a chance to stay away. good stuff.
Hopefully once in the 4's or on a team, I'll have more support from other riders and we can make lemonade of lemons.
that is all.
When recreationally riding or competitively racing, one quickly realizes the benefits of drafting behind others, letting them do the work for you. In time, you get more comfortable riding extremely (onlookers might use the term suicidally) close to others at high rates of speed, building trust amongst the group. There are a multitude of ways to draft, but categorically, they can be divided into two distinct types:
cooperative pacelining and uncooperative drafting (aka wheelsucking)
Study for a moment, if you will, the above diagram showing four of the more common formations. Note that in each, the arrows imply group effort; when the lead rider is tired or has pulled his fair share, he slides to the back, while a fresh rider "pulls through", all the while maintaining the pace.
Obviously this is a grossly idealized representation of cycling in formation as any number issues can and will disrupt the smoothness of the group. Professional teams ride in this way while on training rides; and though things certainly appear more disorganized in a professional-level race, that is simply due to the simple fact that its a race and jockeying for position, blocking, etc.. are obvious tactics to be employed. Nonetheless, talented racers still concede that without the combined efforts of different riders from different teams, the race will suffer.
Now in category 5, my current hovel, racing tactics are either unknown or disregarded by nearly everyone. Even those who, like myself, have familiarized themselves with good racing skills, don't make use of these rudimentary maneuvers.
This is exemplified at pretty much every cat 5 race in the following way:
1. There is a peloton (if it could be called such) and at the front of that group there certainly is a leadout train comprised of 5-10 of the stronger riders in the field. They will do the majority of the work for the entire race.
2. Everyone is worried about getting dropped so nobody risks hard efforts on the front trying to do things like chase breakaways or drive the pace higher.
3. Nearly everyone is gunning for first (who doesn't want to win?), and coupled with the above point, riders huddle en masse, trying to conserve as much energy as possible for the sprint.
4. The pace fluctuates dramatically. Since most are concerned about their ability to just hang on, when one rider who's been pulling for far longer than he really should have tires, nobody pulls through. His pace drops significantly, which in turn slows the whole field.
To this last point, Every time I've pulled on the front to help out of just to try and blow the field apart, those that hang onto my wheel simply stay there. Swerve to the left and the leadout swerves left, swerve right, they go right... At Floyd Bennett Field on the previous weekend, I had to physically turn around, look the next rider in the eye and yell, "PULL! I'M OFF!" only then did someone share in the responsibility of keeping the pace up.
I think that if I can establish a breakaway with some other riders this weekend, we'll likely get an opportunity to make use of some serious progressive pacelining. Then again, when you try to break from the field in the 5's, everyone sees their chances at first disappearing and they all suddenly find their legs, making successful breaks rare.
As an aside, my favorite formation to see or be a part of is what I call progressive pacelining. It's the same as the single paceline illustrated above, but the direction of the arrows is reversed so the last rider rides up and takes the front position from the now-second-in-line rider. This very fast formation is used when you sense the peloton breathing down your neck but you think you've still got a chance to stay away. good stuff.
Hopefully once in the 4's or on a team, I'll have more support from other riders and we can make lemonade of lemons.
that is all.
...Race Report: Prospect Park 4/3
Last week I borrowed a friend's fixed gear bike to putz around on at my leisure... Thursday I met someone for a screening of some rare films set to jazz at the Anthology Film Archives and decided it would be a good opportunity to ride the fixie to work since there is far less to quickly and easily steal off a single gear bicycle than a road bike.
All went according to plan and I had an awesome time. Only after getting home that evening did I realize that April had started.
April fools, legs....
I woke Friday and had the worst ache in both legs; both right above my patella and just below my iliac crest, so I decided to ride the train to work in anticipation of the next day's race. Though I managed to get off a little early that day to go home and soak in the tub, I wasn't feeling 100% Saturday morning.
I arrived at the start line with too little time to do a warm-up lap and barely had my number pinned before they had everyone line up for the start. However, I did manage to wake up on time and eat a decent breakfast, digest it for the most part, and torque test the bike, so all was not lost...
On the first lap the field made it's way up the hill and as I got to about the halfway point where the road snakes a bit, my thighs were pumping not blood and lymph, but pure battery acid. I gritted my teeth and fought through it, staying in contact with the race.
While there weren't any crashes (update: come to think of it there was one crash, but it was some guy who made himself fall on the sprint... we all got a good chuckle out of that), there were a couple squirrely, ego-driven riders (namely a guy in a yellow kit with purple cotton[?] arm and leg warmers) who made the whole damn race a nerve fest once again. I've decided that the only place to be in a prospect race is on the front. Granted, it takes a lot more energy to be on the front for the whole race, but not having to worry about the crappy bike-handlers all around you, makes it that much more pleasant.
On the second lap a guy in an orange champion system kit, who happened to be pulling on the front the first lap, rode away. I saw him go and wanted to give chase but I was boxed in in the middle right of the field, so first chance I got I broke away and tried valiantly to bridge to the solo rider up the road. In retrospect, I launched at a pretty good spot, on the slightly uphill section about half a K from the finish line, just after the pace slowed for that one-lane business after the downhill.
Apparently I yanked the peloton behind me for a while before they let me go, though I realized on the hill that no matter how hard I tried, I wasn't going to catch the Champion System guy, I'd likely blow my cork trying, and would probably be better off settling back in with the pack to vie for second place, so that's what I did.
As I crested the hill, the peloton caught me. When I climb I sorta go at my own pace and get irritated when I have to ride uncomfortably slow to not be that dick weaving through everyone, so I rode next to two Hudson riders who had been pulling on the front most of the time.
The first one says to me with a Slavic accent, "let him go."
Not realizing he was advising me to do what I'd just decided to, I said, "huh?"
he says, "that guy has won every race he's been in.... He's a former pro or something."
This kinda threw me for a loop because my legs were finally waking up after that hard effort and I was chomping at the bit to reel him in somehow. I asked those two If they were interested in organizing a break to try and catch him and they both silently shook their heads no.
Oh well, I slid back to about tenth place and stayed there for most of the rest of the race.
Somehow I moved back about 5-10 places where the road narrows and wasn't in a very good spot for the sprint so I just sat up, let the crazies battle it out and rolled over the line toward the front-ish of the pack. 20th maybe?
After the race I was riding home, mulling over the mornings events and started to feel a little annoyed at myself. This was my fourth race ever, but I felt as though I wasn't putting down the power I should, and wasn't racing as intelligently as I normally do. My minorly bummed 'tude became morphed into majorly bummed/pissed after I got completely cut off by a cop making a right turn into me (against the light, of course).
I went to the diner and resolved to do better in the future (what else can you do aside from making shallow promises to yourself) over a big plate of complex carbohydrates.
All went according to plan and I had an awesome time. Only after getting home that evening did I realize that April had started.
April fools, legs....
I woke Friday and had the worst ache in both legs; both right above my patella and just below my iliac crest, so I decided to ride the train to work in anticipation of the next day's race. Though I managed to get off a little early that day to go home and soak in the tub, I wasn't feeling 100% Saturday morning.
I arrived at the start line with too little time to do a warm-up lap and barely had my number pinned before they had everyone line up for the start. However, I did manage to wake up on time and eat a decent breakfast, digest it for the most part, and torque test the bike, so all was not lost...
On the first lap the field made it's way up the hill and as I got to about the halfway point where the road snakes a bit, my thighs were pumping not blood and lymph, but pure battery acid. I gritted my teeth and fought through it, staying in contact with the race.
While there weren't any crashes (update: come to think of it there was one crash, but it was some guy who made himself fall on the sprint... we all got a good chuckle out of that), there were a couple squirrely, ego-driven riders (namely a guy in a yellow kit with purple cotton[?] arm and leg warmers) who made the whole damn race a nerve fest once again. I've decided that the only place to be in a prospect race is on the front. Granted, it takes a lot more energy to be on the front for the whole race, but not having to worry about the crappy bike-handlers all around you, makes it that much more pleasant.
On the second lap a guy in an orange champion system kit, who happened to be pulling on the front the first lap, rode away. I saw him go and wanted to give chase but I was boxed in in the middle right of the field, so first chance I got I broke away and tried valiantly to bridge to the solo rider up the road. In retrospect, I launched at a pretty good spot, on the slightly uphill section about half a K from the finish line, just after the pace slowed for that one-lane business after the downhill.
Apparently I yanked the peloton behind me for a while before they let me go, though I realized on the hill that no matter how hard I tried, I wasn't going to catch the Champion System guy, I'd likely blow my cork trying, and would probably be better off settling back in with the pack to vie for second place, so that's what I did.
As I crested the hill, the peloton caught me. When I climb I sorta go at my own pace and get irritated when I have to ride uncomfortably slow to not be that dick weaving through everyone, so I rode next to two Hudson riders who had been pulling on the front most of the time.
The first one says to me with a Slavic accent, "let him go."
Not realizing he was advising me to do what I'd just decided to, I said, "huh?"
he says, "that guy has won every race he's been in.... He's a former pro or something."
This kinda threw me for a loop because my legs were finally waking up after that hard effort and I was chomping at the bit to reel him in somehow. I asked those two If they were interested in organizing a break to try and catch him and they both silently shook their heads no.
Oh well, I slid back to about tenth place and stayed there for most of the rest of the race.
Somehow I moved back about 5-10 places where the road narrows and wasn't in a very good spot for the sprint so I just sat up, let the crazies battle it out and rolled over the line toward the front-ish of the pack. 20th maybe?
After the race I was riding home, mulling over the mornings events and started to feel a little annoyed at myself. This was my fourth race ever, but I felt as though I wasn't putting down the power I should, and wasn't racing as intelligently as I normally do. My minorly bummed 'tude became morphed into majorly bummed/pissed after I got completely cut off by a cop making a right turn into me (against the light, of course).
I went to the diner and resolved to do better in the future (what else can you do aside from making shallow promises to yourself) over a big plate of complex carbohydrates.
3.29.2010
...Race Report: Prospect Park 3/28
I just spent an hour scouring the web for photos of yesterday's race at Prospect Park but have come up empty-handed... I guess it takes the photographers a while to post. Considering there were at least a dozen scattered around the course, I have no doubt I'll soon come across stunning images of myself sitting, scared shitless, in the middle of the peloton.
I think that's the best summary of the race: scary as fuck. the field was limited to 50 and it was either totally full or exceeded by ten to twenty; save the 5boro bike tour, I've never ridden with so many people at once...
I awoke at 4:30am sharp and proceeded to do a very abbreviated version of what I guess is becoming my pre-race ritual: I showered, ran a razor over the knees (stubbly knees are terrible for riding), ate a couple bowls of cereal and some bananas while air-drying the "crotchal region", dressed, ran a baby-wipe or two over the bike, oiled the chain a little, and double checked that all my supplies were in order.
I got to the start about half an hour before we got under way and was stoked that being of the internet generation, I had the foresight to preregister. The line for registration was really, really long.
The start was fairly different from how it's done at FBF, instead of intermittent start times, all the racers were instructed to line up in packs according to field, with us lowly cat5's at the very back. We rolled up to the line and with a peep of the whistle, we were off.
I felt really pensive about this race for several reasons. First, to me this is home-court, I ride here damn near every day and know the route like the back of my hand, giving me somewhat of an edge over the bridge and tunnel racers. Secondly, and as I said before, there were a LOT of people... seeing the park literally packed from edge to edge with bicycles was beguiling to say the least.
We rolled around at a not-too-tiring pace for the entire "race".
On the back stretch, the course rapidly narrows to one lane from two and there's a line of fixed white plastic bollards that divide the road there. in front of those the organizers had placed a line of six miniature orange cones to compress the field for that turn.On the first lap I was following a wheel on the extreme right of the road when the field tightened up for that turn, he veered scarily to the left and I was presented with a line of cones to roll over and there was nothing I could do about it.
I totally expected to crash but didn't (whew!) but I sent all six cones bouncing around in the peloton.
On the very next lap, after passing the Grand Army Plaza entrance, a BSR rider crashed somehow. Fortunately I was all the way to the right of the field and it happened all the way to the left, so I don't know the exact circumstances of how it transpired. All I saw was a lone bicycle fly up over the peloton, followed by three riders and their bikes, and then a tangle of 5-8 laying on the ground.
The pace quickened after that as though everyone not involved saw an opportunity to make a move... you should never look behind you (unless you're definitely in the lead), so I'm not certain, but I think that crash cut the field in two; those who jumped after the crash (of which I was a part) and those caught in the fray who had to slow down and go around.
Nothing interesting happened in the next four laps, except that I made damn sure to stay in the middle on that dang turn where I nearly ate it.
In a slightly bullshitty turn of events, the Pro1/2/3 breakaway caught the 5's on the downhill right before our finish, so the commisare was forced to neutralize our field (meaning pace gets regulated by the commisare's car, not supported by it, and attacks are not allowed) until about 50-100m from the line. This, of course, meant the peloton expanded like a slinky going in for the finish and not wanting to muscle my way up through ten to twenty egomaniacal riders, I sat in for about 15th place.
In retrospect, this race suffered from a few things that it doesn't take a seasoned pro to notice.
First, the leadout was completely disorganized, resulting as I said, in a pretty slow race. we finished seven laps (25mi) in 1:04:36 (at least that was my time, and I finished with the front). When I train at Prospect Park, I do seven laps in exactly one hour. I don't know how to get people to share an effort on the front, especially when it could very well cost them valuable energy required for the sprint, but someone's gotta take charge. maybe next week that'll be me.
Secondly, the only attacks came on the downhill section. I'm not sure what advice they've been listening to but that's a seriously futile effort. the peloton rapidly gobbled them back up and they finished with nothing to show for it.
Lastly (though not least-ly), because of the general lack of skill in the 5's, tactics (aside from attacking and riding fast), are pretty much useless. This is kind of a bummer, but makes me want to get to the 4's that much quicker, since I'll be both more familiar with the other riders, and all the non-hackers will be in the 5's still.
Not to give away my master plan, but considering the lazy speed with which this race went off, I think this coming Saturday I'm going to do the following: start at the middle of the peloton and hold my position for two to three laps. on the fourth or fifth lap I'm going to make my way, slowly and quietly, into the leadout train. I'll take a pull or two, and then attack on the main hill at the bell lap. I think this'll work 'cause the peloton was only doing 17-19mph up that hill and if I'm feeling rested, I can shoot up that fucker at 25 easy. considering uphill sections negate the positive effects of drafting, I don't expect too many people to follow closely. I'll put my head down and hammer that shit to the finish. Unless the leadout train can pull it's head out of it's ass and get organized, I should have a pretty good chance of staying away and coming out with 1st. If I don't, at least it'll have been a good effort and I won't finish feeling just-warmed-up.
Criticism aside, bicycle racing is still probably the most fun I've had doing a "sport" ever, and you can rest assured that even the most negative experiences I (have had/will have) are at least educational and therefore positive to some degree.
Lookin' forward to this weekend... come out if you can pull yourself out of bed before 6:30am and watch me either win or hurt myself trying.
I think that's the best summary of the race: scary as fuck. the field was limited to 50 and it was either totally full or exceeded by ten to twenty; save the 5boro bike tour, I've never ridden with so many people at once...
I awoke at 4:30am sharp and proceeded to do a very abbreviated version of what I guess is becoming my pre-race ritual: I showered, ran a razor over the knees (stubbly knees are terrible for riding), ate a couple bowls of cereal and some bananas while air-drying the "crotchal region", dressed, ran a baby-wipe or two over the bike, oiled the chain a little, and double checked that all my supplies were in order.
I got to the start about half an hour before we got under way and was stoked that being of the internet generation, I had the foresight to preregister. The line for registration was really, really long.
The start was fairly different from how it's done at FBF, instead of intermittent start times, all the racers were instructed to line up in packs according to field, with us lowly cat5's at the very back. We rolled up to the line and with a peep of the whistle, we were off.
I felt really pensive about this race for several reasons. First, to me this is home-court, I ride here damn near every day and know the route like the back of my hand, giving me somewhat of an edge over the bridge and tunnel racers. Secondly, and as I said before, there were a LOT of people... seeing the park literally packed from edge to edge with bicycles was beguiling to say the least.
We rolled around at a not-too-tiring pace for the entire "race".
On the back stretch, the course rapidly narrows to one lane from two and there's a line of fixed white plastic bollards that divide the road there. in front of those the organizers had placed a line of six miniature orange cones to compress the field for that turn.On the first lap I was following a wheel on the extreme right of the road when the field tightened up for that turn, he veered scarily to the left and I was presented with a line of cones to roll over and there was nothing I could do about it.
I totally expected to crash but didn't (whew!) but I sent all six cones bouncing around in the peloton.
On the very next lap, after passing the Grand Army Plaza entrance, a BSR rider crashed somehow. Fortunately I was all the way to the right of the field and it happened all the way to the left, so I don't know the exact circumstances of how it transpired. All I saw was a lone bicycle fly up over the peloton, followed by three riders and their bikes, and then a tangle of 5-8 laying on the ground.
The pace quickened after that as though everyone not involved saw an opportunity to make a move... you should never look behind you (unless you're definitely in the lead), so I'm not certain, but I think that crash cut the field in two; those who jumped after the crash (of which I was a part) and those caught in the fray who had to slow down and go around.
Nothing interesting happened in the next four laps, except that I made damn sure to stay in the middle on that dang turn where I nearly ate it.
In a slightly bullshitty turn of events, the Pro1/2/3 breakaway caught the 5's on the downhill right before our finish, so the commisare was forced to neutralize our field (meaning pace gets regulated by the commisare's car, not supported by it, and attacks are not allowed) until about 50-100m from the line. This, of course, meant the peloton expanded like a slinky going in for the finish and not wanting to muscle my way up through ten to twenty egomaniacal riders, I sat in for about 15th place.
In retrospect, this race suffered from a few things that it doesn't take a seasoned pro to notice.
First, the leadout was completely disorganized, resulting as I said, in a pretty slow race. we finished seven laps (25mi) in 1:04:36 (at least that was my time, and I finished with the front). When I train at Prospect Park, I do seven laps in exactly one hour. I don't know how to get people to share an effort on the front, especially when it could very well cost them valuable energy required for the sprint, but someone's gotta take charge. maybe next week that'll be me.
Secondly, the only attacks came on the downhill section. I'm not sure what advice they've been listening to but that's a seriously futile effort. the peloton rapidly gobbled them back up and they finished with nothing to show for it.
Lastly (though not least-ly), because of the general lack of skill in the 5's, tactics (aside from attacking and riding fast), are pretty much useless. This is kind of a bummer, but makes me want to get to the 4's that much quicker, since I'll be both more familiar with the other riders, and all the non-hackers will be in the 5's still.
Not to give away my master plan, but considering the lazy speed with which this race went off, I think this coming Saturday I'm going to do the following: start at the middle of the peloton and hold my position for two to three laps. on the fourth or fifth lap I'm going to make my way, slowly and quietly, into the leadout train. I'll take a pull or two, and then attack on the main hill at the bell lap. I think this'll work 'cause the peloton was only doing 17-19mph up that hill and if I'm feeling rested, I can shoot up that fucker at 25 easy. considering uphill sections negate the positive effects of drafting, I don't expect too many people to follow closely. I'll put my head down and hammer that shit to the finish. Unless the leadout train can pull it's head out of it's ass and get organized, I should have a pretty good chance of staying away and coming out with 1st. If I don't, at least it'll have been a good effort and I won't finish feeling just-warmed-up.
Criticism aside, bicycle racing is still probably the most fun I've had doing a "sport" ever, and you can rest assured that even the most negative experiences I (have had/will have) are at least educational and therefore positive to some degree.
Lookin' forward to this weekend... come out if you can pull yourself out of bed before 6:30am and watch me either win or hurt myself trying.
...Race Report: FBF 3/27
Since I laid out the nature of the Floyd Bennett course last week, I'll spare you its description suffice to say it is very flat and very windy.
Last weekend Kissena included several women's fields in the lineup, though not this week, so when I arrived at the staging area it felt strangely empty. Considering it was a mere 40 degrees out despite being sunny, I think most people were content to hang out in their cars prior to the start so as to keep their toes warm. Basically I was one of only a handful of people hanging out by the start/finish.
A guy I raced with last week had a car and offered I sit with him for a while and let my toes thaw a bit right before the race, which I was most grateful for since we all know, cold feet are slow feet.
Charlie (Kissena's magnanimous race director), called the Pro1/2/3 field to the line and had us 5's line up behind them as usual, and after a brief lecture about racing smart, we were off.
Not to spoil the story, but luckily there were no crashes or major mechanicals that morning. The field started off at a moderate pace of around 22mph and stayed there for pretty much the rest of the race.
Using what I learned from last week, I hung out a lot more in with the peloton trying to conserve energy for a hard effort on the last few laps. While sitting back there I was joking around with a few other racers that this seemed more like a tepid Sunday ride than a race-with-a-capital-r.
To be honest I got a little fed up just sitting in the pack so I moved up and started driving at the front with another guy I met last week (in yellow, above, I'm the one in black and white on his wheel). Apparently (and according to these photos I found), after the third lap or so we managed to drop over half the field... I only realized this when I floated toward what I thought was the middle of the peloton for some r&r before the final laps only to find that I was at the very back of the group!
We again joked around about the pace and that pretty much everyone left was going to get a top-ten spot.
I drove hard again on the front, hoping to either establish a break or obliterate the field some more (that's me above, punishing my competitors), which seemed to work at least a bit.
I was leading by a bike length or two on the bell lap which would've been fine had I really worn out everyone else. However, with about half a mile to go, a young polish guy launched an attack that I and only six others managed to hang onto.
Now we're racing! I dropped two or three cogs and stood, made it to about 35mph at the line but only managed to snag fifth or so (I've found that unless you're first or second with a big gap, it's pretty difficult to gauge where you finished). Considering I was last to grab onto the attack, and passed two or three people before the line, it wasn't a total loss.
I guess could look at it as though I was the fourth-best loser (how's that for optimism?), but I want better. I want to win.
Last weekend Kissena included several women's fields in the lineup, though not this week, so when I arrived at the staging area it felt strangely empty. Considering it was a mere 40 degrees out despite being sunny, I think most people were content to hang out in their cars prior to the start so as to keep their toes warm. Basically I was one of only a handful of people hanging out by the start/finish.
A guy I raced with last week had a car and offered I sit with him for a while and let my toes thaw a bit right before the race, which I was most grateful for since we all know, cold feet are slow feet.
Charlie (Kissena's magnanimous race director), called the Pro1/2/3 field to the line and had us 5's line up behind them as usual, and after a brief lecture about racing smart, we were off.
Not to spoil the story, but luckily there were no crashes or major mechanicals that morning. The field started off at a moderate pace of around 22mph and stayed there for pretty much the rest of the race.
Using what I learned from last week, I hung out a lot more in with the peloton trying to conserve energy for a hard effort on the last few laps. While sitting back there I was joking around with a few other racers that this seemed more like a tepid Sunday ride than a race-with-a-capital-r.
To be honest I got a little fed up just sitting in the pack so I moved up and started driving at the front with another guy I met last week (in yellow, above, I'm the one in black and white on his wheel). Apparently (and according to these photos I found), after the third lap or so we managed to drop over half the field... I only realized this when I floated toward what I thought was the middle of the peloton for some r&r before the final laps only to find that I was at the very back of the group!
We again joked around about the pace and that pretty much everyone left was going to get a top-ten spot.
I drove hard again on the front, hoping to either establish a break or obliterate the field some more (that's me above, punishing my competitors), which seemed to work at least a bit.
I was leading by a bike length or two on the bell lap which would've been fine had I really worn out everyone else. However, with about half a mile to go, a young polish guy launched an attack that I and only six others managed to hang onto.
Now we're racing! I dropped two or three cogs and stood, made it to about 35mph at the line but only managed to snag fifth or so (I've found that unless you're first or second with a big gap, it's pretty difficult to gauge where you finished). Considering I was last to grab onto the attack, and passed two or three people before the line, it wasn't a total loss.
I guess could look at it as though I was the fourth-best loser (how's that for optimism?), but I want better. I want to win.
3.24.2010
...wowzers
I just want to preface this long overdue post with a short apology. I've somehow lost two things that are rather precious to me in the past week which adversely affect my ability to post topically on the recent events of my life: my ipod and the USB cable that connects my phone to the computer. Since I've always got my phone with me that's where most pertinent media is stored.
Oh wait. fuck. I forgot about bluetooth. nevermind, that just requires posting from my up-to-date computer and not the glorified paperweight I'm currently using.
Moving right along, I finally did a race at Floyd Bennett Field.
Going into the race I really had no idea what to expect... I assumed that either my fitness was sufficient to easily race the course without breaking a sweat, or it would be so hard I'd get dropped like a hot rock within a lap or two. In short, I'd never done this before so I got some serious flutterby action in the stomach while waiting for the PRO/1-2-3 race to get moving so we could start.
Charlie Issendorf, the race director for Kissena, implored us to stay safe and reminded us of some rules pertaining mishaps and what to do should we get lapped by the PRO/1-2-3 field, which never happened. then we were off...
The First Lap
Right off the line the pace immediately jumped to 25mph+ and after the first turn we ran into a considerable headwind but stayed above 20mph. The first turn is a slow right at the apex of which is a very fast surface change, immediately after going over that the first time I heard "PSSSSSSSSSSSSSST.......awwww fuck!" from right behind me... rider out.
I got myself mixed in with the "lead group" when I chased down an unsuccessful break that was moving really fast in the slight tailwind that had battered us earlier. I had intended to bridge up to it so as to not get dropped from contention but that encouraged the peloton to move up too, so before long the group was tight on the front again. I pulled at the front for a minute or so and dropped back to catch my breath as we completed the first lap. Lesson learned: never attack in a tailwind.
Mid-Race
The next two laps were uneventful aside from people getting popped off the back, which was of no concern to me... I pulled once or twice more and decided that if I kept doing that, I wouldn't have any matches left for the inevitable speed-increase at the bell-lap. I sat in the peloton for most of the rest of the race and slowly moved up through the middle of the pack staying around 15th off the front.
I was surprised at how fast we were going; I was sitting up, pedaling at a comfortable pace and was being sucked along at around 30mph the whole time.
I've done pacelining before, and while you can certainly feel the positive effects of someone breaking the air for you, it becomes magnified when riding 40-50 people deep... While I don't want to be a wheelsucker, I think this Saturday I'm going to sit up mid-pack as much as possible and save everything I've got for the sprint.
At one point I got stuck fighting for myself on the windward side of the pack and had to really hoof it to stay in contact with the group.. I moved up through the field, and in retrospect, I'm glad I did because no sooner than I had gotten into position for the final turn of the third lap than I hear the grinding, scraping and thudding of a crash directly behind me. My first instinct was to turn around and look but I reminded myself that this was in fact a race and that their misfortune was none of my concern (this time). Later I discovered the guy sitting on my wheel slid out and took two others with him. Lesson learned: Love the draft, fear the wind.
Final Lap
As we started the bell lap, the pace remained relatively docile. I had assumed the pace would immediately jump 5-10mph upon hearing the bell but I couldn't complain, I had tried to establish my position at the front on the fourth lap and nearly cooked my legs trying to pull too long. I was sitting in roughly thirtieth place at this point.
I spent the majority of the last lap positioning myself for the sprint and quietly moved up to about fifth, letting the front of the peloton lead me out.
At the final turn I was in third position and with the finish rapidly approaching, I was surprised nobody had initiated the sprint. I'd watched enough races to know what to do; I dropped two cogs, stood, and took off...
Too soon. Two guys came around me on either side at full tilt and once fully ahead of me the guy at my 1 o'clock veered sharply into the guy at my 11 and I was forced to tap my rear brake (which can be a little frightening at 40mph) just a tiny bit. Hitting the brake forced me to scrub just enough speed that right before the line I got passed by several people and managed to finish about tenth (maybe ninth, maybe eleventh).
Concerning that near-crash, what the first rider did is a super novice move, you should hold your line at all times; even when you're swinging the bike around for leverage in a sprint, your wheels should be tracking a straight line. The offended rider rightly filed an official complaint with the organizer and the offending rider will likely be given a stern warning if he's not banned from racing there for a while. Lesson learned: stay off the brakes.
All in all, I had an awesome time at FBF... so much so that I've already pre-registered for two races this coming weekend: another FBF race of the same format, and a seven lap (25mi) race at Prospect Park on Sunday. Stay tuned for thorough reports from both this weekend
Ride fast...
Oh wait. fuck. I forgot about bluetooth. nevermind, that just requires posting from my up-to-date computer and not the glorified paperweight I'm currently using.
Moving right along, I finally did a race at Floyd Bennett Field.
(race course in red, start/finish was actually by the parking lot on the right near the water)
Charlie Issendorf, the race director for Kissena, implored us to stay safe and reminded us of some rules pertaining mishaps and what to do should we get lapped by the PRO/1-2-3 field, which never happened. then we were off...
The First Lap
Right off the line the pace immediately jumped to 25mph+ and after the first turn we ran into a considerable headwind but stayed above 20mph. The first turn is a slow right at the apex of which is a very fast surface change, immediately after going over that the first time I heard "PSSSSSSSSSSSSSST.......awwww fuck!" from right behind me... rider out.
I got myself mixed in with the "lead group" when I chased down an unsuccessful break that was moving really fast in the slight tailwind that had battered us earlier. I had intended to bridge up to it so as to not get dropped from contention but that encouraged the peloton to move up too, so before long the group was tight on the front again. I pulled at the front for a minute or so and dropped back to catch my breath as we completed the first lap. Lesson learned: never attack in a tailwind.
Mid-Race
The next two laps were uneventful aside from people getting popped off the back, which was of no concern to me... I pulled once or twice more and decided that if I kept doing that, I wouldn't have any matches left for the inevitable speed-increase at the bell-lap. I sat in the peloton for most of the rest of the race and slowly moved up through the middle of the pack staying around 15th off the front.
I was surprised at how fast we were going; I was sitting up, pedaling at a comfortable pace and was being sucked along at around 30mph the whole time.
I've done pacelining before, and while you can certainly feel the positive effects of someone breaking the air for you, it becomes magnified when riding 40-50 people deep... While I don't want to be a wheelsucker, I think this Saturday I'm going to sit up mid-pack as much as possible and save everything I've got for the sprint.
At one point I got stuck fighting for myself on the windward side of the pack and had to really hoof it to stay in contact with the group.. I moved up through the field, and in retrospect, I'm glad I did because no sooner than I had gotten into position for the final turn of the third lap than I hear the grinding, scraping and thudding of a crash directly behind me. My first instinct was to turn around and look but I reminded myself that this was in fact a race and that their misfortune was none of my concern (this time). Later I discovered the guy sitting on my wheel slid out and took two others with him. Lesson learned: Love the draft, fear the wind.
Final Lap
As we started the bell lap, the pace remained relatively docile. I had assumed the pace would immediately jump 5-10mph upon hearing the bell but I couldn't complain, I had tried to establish my position at the front on the fourth lap and nearly cooked my legs trying to pull too long. I was sitting in roughly thirtieth place at this point.
I spent the majority of the last lap positioning myself for the sprint and quietly moved up to about fifth, letting the front of the peloton lead me out.
At the final turn I was in third position and with the finish rapidly approaching, I was surprised nobody had initiated the sprint. I'd watched enough races to know what to do; I dropped two cogs, stood, and took off...
Too soon. Two guys came around me on either side at full tilt and once fully ahead of me the guy at my 1 o'clock veered sharply into the guy at my 11 and I was forced to tap my rear brake (which can be a little frightening at 40mph) just a tiny bit. Hitting the brake forced me to scrub just enough speed that right before the line I got passed by several people and managed to finish about tenth (maybe ninth, maybe eleventh).
Concerning that near-crash, what the first rider did is a super novice move, you should hold your line at all times; even when you're swinging the bike around for leverage in a sprint, your wheels should be tracking a straight line. The offended rider rightly filed an official complaint with the organizer and the offending rider will likely be given a stern warning if he's not banned from racing there for a while. Lesson learned: stay off the brakes.
All in all, I had an awesome time at FBF... so much so that I've already pre-registered for two races this coming weekend: another FBF race of the same format, and a seven lap (25mi) race at Prospect Park on Sunday. Stay tuned for thorough reports from both this weekend
Ride fast...
3.09.2010
...seasonably clean and a prelude to justice
So if you hadn't been keeping up on the weather situation in the northeast, It's finally starting to feel like spring 'round these parts... In large part the snow is gone and the temperature has been an extraordinarily seasonable 50ish degrees for the past four days. The best part is that the streets aren't perpetually wet and grimy anymore, meaning my use of baby wipes has decreased dramatically.
I had meant to give this further credence in a full post entitled "...washing the bike: my way or the highway" but figured it didn't have the gravity to be a stand-alone post. In short, washing one's bike is a critical part of bike maintenance, providing a golden opportunity to spot and fix any potential problems, though during the winter months can be a finger-numbing, icy affair.
After riding around on less than ideal roads, I would bring my bike in and proceed to spend an hour, a quarter roll of paper towels, and a couple ounces of green clean getting my ride all sparkly clean again... then I discovered the baby-wipe miracle...
Not only are they ideal for sanitizing the rear-ends of one's spawn, they make cleaning your bike a cinch! A pack of these "hops" wipes goes for about $2 at the local grocer and using only about ten, I can get my bike VASTLY cleaner than any combination of paper towels and liquid cleaner. Plus, they're already soaked with some antibacterial stuff.
Of course nothing can beat giving the bike a good douse with a hose, but to give your wheels that new-bike sheen, baby wipes are the way to go. Additionally, considering I've adopted the most roadie-esque variety of handlebar tape, packing a few in my jersey pockets for a ride make it possible to maintain the tape's whiteness while allowing mid-ride fiddling.
Anyway, despite the fair weather and outdoor bike-washing opportunities it presents, I got this in my e-mail inbox last Wednesday:
Anyway, I always see the "embro guys" when cycling upstate or at the popular spots around the city, and their jerseys make me long for a nice espresso drink while churning away the miles.
If only I had SAG support vehicles to bring me tasty beverages while on-bike...
Alas I do not... the only vehicles following me are blind hasids and bored cops trying to fill their quota before year's end.
I don't think I made mention of this but on New Year's Eve I got a summons for riding without a "bike hat" (cops words, honest) and despite my thorough knowledge of traffic laws, could not convince them I was in the right and that they were wasting everyone's time issuing frivolous summonses.
So I've printed out copies of the NYC traffic code, NYS traffic code, highlighted all the relevant passages, and assembled them all in a lawyer-chic legal manila folder... Fortunately or unfortunately (depending on if you enjoy "sticking it to the man") much of my indignation and ire has burnt off since that unpleasant exchange with the police, and I'll have to muster some courage to not shrink from my constitutionally protected right to have the floor and state my case against the city.
No, I'm not suing anyone, though I know I'll feel as though I pussied out if I just go, let the judge dismiss the ticket, and go about my day, so I'm going to demand a moment to scold the government for their refusal to defend cyclists' rights and instead pester us and impede our pursuit of life and happiness at the cost of both my wages and the judicial system's time.
To that end, I'll let you know Thursday how tomorrow's trip to the county courthouse went...If they'll listen, that is.
Oh well, wish me luck, I'm speaking on behalf of everyone on a bike...
I had meant to give this further credence in a full post entitled "...washing the bike: my way or the highway" but figured it didn't have the gravity to be a stand-alone post. In short, washing one's bike is a critical part of bike maintenance, providing a golden opportunity to spot and fix any potential problems, though during the winter months can be a finger-numbing, icy affair.
After riding around on less than ideal roads, I would bring my bike in and proceed to spend an hour, a quarter roll of paper towels, and a couple ounces of green clean getting my ride all sparkly clean again... then I discovered the baby-wipe miracle...
Not only are they ideal for sanitizing the rear-ends of one's spawn, they make cleaning your bike a cinch! A pack of these "hops" wipes goes for about $2 at the local grocer and using only about ten, I can get my bike VASTLY cleaner than any combination of paper towels and liquid cleaner. Plus, they're already soaked with some antibacterial stuff.
Of course nothing can beat giving the bike a good douse with a hose, but to give your wheels that new-bike sheen, baby wipes are the way to go. Additionally, considering I've adopted the most roadie-esque variety of handlebar tape, packing a few in my jersey pockets for a ride make it possible to maintain the tape's whiteness while allowing mid-ride fiddling.
Anyway, despite the fair weather and outdoor bike-washing opportunities it presents, I got this in my e-mail inbox last Wednesday:
FROM: Brooklyn Spring Series - CANCELED
------------------------------
-------------------
All,
This Saturday's Brooklyn Spring Series race at Floyd Bennett Field is canceled. While most of the snow from last week's snow storm has melted on the course the resulting affect is huge lake-like puddles have formed on the course and it's not safe to have the race. With more rain/snow predicted this week the decision has been made now to cancel the race.
Since you have pre-registered for this event I would like to extend a credit to either the March 20 or March 27 race.
Please let me know which race I can add you to the start list for.
Charlie Issendorf
Race Director
Kissena Cycling Club
-------------------------------------------------
This message was sent as a service to promoters
of BikeReg.com. Please notify tech@BikeReg.com
with any abuse of the service. Thank You.
-------------------------------------------------
So I replied that I'm down for the March 20th race, so be on the lookout for a post detailing my experiences therefrom. I've read that it's a good idea to keep a cycling journal of one's experiences at races as a training tool. Most obviously so you can look back on your palmares, relive victories, and study defeats; but it also acts as a fail-safe in case your attendance or (heaven forbid) your podium spot is overlooked by USAC.
So I'm planning on using this blog as that "race diary" for three interconnected reasons:
- This site is already up and running...
- I often can't think of anything to write...
- I'm lazy.
Anyway, I always see the "embro guys" when cycling upstate or at the popular spots around the city, and their jerseys make me long for a nice espresso drink while churning away the miles.
(reblogged via riding pretty)
If only I had SAG support vehicles to bring me tasty beverages while on-bike...
Alas I do not... the only vehicles following me are blind hasids and bored cops trying to fill their quota before year's end.
I don't think I made mention of this but on New Year's Eve I got a summons for riding without a "bike hat" (cops words, honest) and despite my thorough knowledge of traffic laws, could not convince them I was in the right and that they were wasting everyone's time issuing frivolous summonses.
So I've printed out copies of the NYC traffic code, NYS traffic code, highlighted all the relevant passages, and assembled them all in a lawyer-chic legal manila folder... Fortunately or unfortunately (depending on if you enjoy "sticking it to the man") much of my indignation and ire has burnt off since that unpleasant exchange with the police, and I'll have to muster some courage to not shrink from my constitutionally protected right to have the floor and state my case against the city.
No, I'm not suing anyone, though I know I'll feel as though I pussied out if I just go, let the judge dismiss the ticket, and go about my day, so I'm going to demand a moment to scold the government for their refusal to defend cyclists' rights and instead pester us and impede our pursuit of life and happiness at the cost of both my wages and the judicial system's time.
To that end, I'll let you know Thursday how tomorrow's trip to the county courthouse went...If they'll listen, that is.
Oh well, wish me luck, I'm speaking on behalf of everyone on a bike...
2.19.2010
...all done!
Ok... so after an obscenely long wait for two minor parts, my bike is finally "done."
After spending my hard-earned (and saved) money for a long ass time, I was finally able to turn my Allez into an ultra-light race machine. The nice thing about upgrading the Allez frameset is that, with the exception of material, it is essientially no different (geometry) from the top-of-the-line Tarmac. The major drawback of getting the less glitzy bike at the outset is that the components are either heavy, of low-quality, or both. This is not to say that I didn't enjoy it stock, but it certainly had considerable heft and a few mechanical shortcomings (stay away from Shimano Sora if you can help it, seriously).
I think there's a misconception amongst cyclists and bike shop people. Everyone says, "buy the best bike you can afford." While this is usually pretty good advice, I feel like it's only solidly true for more high-end road bikes when you're deciding between SRAM Red, Dura Ace, and Super Record, for instance. But even on $5000+ racing bikes you'll get a nice carbon frame, (say) Dura Ace STI levers, and rear derailleur, but then they'll toss on a 105 or Ultegra front derailleur and Ultegra cranks. I've never understood why it seems damn near impossible to get a homogenous gruppo on a complete bike unless you order it custom from someplace online like R&A or cross the $8,000 threshold at a place like Bicycle Habitat.
When it comes to less pricey bikes, they do the same thing, but to the extreme. I feel like you get a very decent frame and fork, and then Shimano (or whoever) just tosses on the cheapest parts at random so that it'll just work good enough so the untrained cyclist won't complain... Or you get another bike where the frame and fork leave something to be desired but you get slightly nicer components like 105 or Rival (though still somewhat cobbled together).
So it's a judgement call right?
I went the route of the better frame and fork with crummier componentry since I knew I'd eventually be tinkering with things and replacing other things... which I did.
So here it is (fellow cat 5 racers, you may start quaking your fuzzy legs now):
After spending my hard-earned (and saved) money for a long ass time, I was finally able to turn my Allez into an ultra-light race machine. The nice thing about upgrading the Allez frameset is that, with the exception of material, it is essientially no different (geometry) from the top-of-the-line Tarmac. The major drawback of getting the less glitzy bike at the outset is that the components are either heavy, of low-quality, or both. This is not to say that I didn't enjoy it stock, but it certainly had considerable heft and a few mechanical shortcomings (stay away from Shimano Sora if you can help it, seriously).
I think there's a misconception amongst cyclists and bike shop people. Everyone says, "buy the best bike you can afford." While this is usually pretty good advice, I feel like it's only solidly true for more high-end road bikes when you're deciding between SRAM Red, Dura Ace, and Super Record, for instance. But even on $5000+ racing bikes you'll get a nice carbon frame, (say) Dura Ace STI levers, and rear derailleur, but then they'll toss on a 105 or Ultegra front derailleur and Ultegra cranks. I've never understood why it seems damn near impossible to get a homogenous gruppo on a complete bike unless you order it custom from someplace online like R&A or cross the $8,000 threshold at a place like Bicycle Habitat.
When it comes to less pricey bikes, they do the same thing, but to the extreme. I feel like you get a very decent frame and fork, and then Shimano (or whoever) just tosses on the cheapest parts at random so that it'll just work good enough so the untrained cyclist won't complain... Or you get another bike where the frame and fork leave something to be desired but you get slightly nicer components like 105 or Rival (though still somewhat cobbled together).
So it's a judgement call right?
I went the route of the better frame and fork with crummier componentry since I knew I'd eventually be tinkering with things and replacing other things... which I did.
So here it is (fellow cat 5 racers, you may start quaking your fuzzy legs now):
The abridged spec's are:
Drivetrain:
SRAM Force doubletap levers (UD carbon & magnesium)
SRAM Force Crankset (UD carbon)
SRAM Force front and rear derailleurs (aluminum, UD carbon, and titanium in places)
SRAM Powerglide Cassette 23-21-19-17-16-15-14-13-12-11 (23-11, 10spd)
SRAM Powerglide Chain with masterlink
Truvativ bottom bracket.
Everything else:
SRAM Force caliper brakeset with Swisstop pads
Neuvation R28 Aero 4 Wheelset (j-bend bladed spokes, 16f -20r)
Continental GP4000 racing tires (handmade in Germany bitches!)
Ritchey WCS 4-Axis stem in "wet white"
Ritchey WCS Alloy seatpost in "wet white"
Black SRAM cables and housing
Cinelli cork handlebar tape (white)
Shimano Ultegra SPD-SL road pedals
So there you have it. Basically a brand new bike.
It really gets under my skin when people say something is the "best" only because it's what they have or use and not for any quantifiable reason, so I'll try and keep the gloating to a minimum cause I know there's always something better, lighter, and sexier out there (assuming one has the resources to obtain said things).
In all honesty, at first I really didn't like the SRAM doubletap shifting. This was due in equal parts to the fact that I wasn't used to it, and that when you first put on new cables, they stretch rapidly and shift quality quickly degrades, necessitating frequent readjustment in the first month of use. I found it awkward to use the same paddle to shift up and down and was constantly mis-shifting or shifting accidentally.
Then I got used to it, had the cables tensioned again, and now I absolutely love it. I especially love the fact that when riding in the drops, you can pull the shift paddle away from the brake lever and shift up by simply flicking your wrist toward the inside. That said, downshifting in the drops isn't as easy since you'd have to rotate your whole arm around the bar to get it far enough to shift. Also, if you try to do the wrist-flick to downshift, it feels like you're about to break the paddle off which is a little scary to say the least.
With Shimano, I was used to having the feeling of actually Shifting the chain with the lever... you could literally feel the shifter move sideways, and though it was indexed, shifting to larger sprockets always felt like it took some finger strength. With SRAM it's like a mouse-click and the derailleurs do everything for you. and it's damn precise too. I heard that the Red stuff shifts a little faster and more precisely, though I'd be curious to see if I could actually tell the difference because the Force drivetrain is (as far as I can tell) completely without issue. Where my Shimano stuff would occasionally click or creak or lag in certain spots (no matter how finely tuned I tried to get it), SRAM is like the hyper-obedient child in comparison to the Shimano brat.
I don't know how people review brakes because as far as I can tell, as long as you come to a stop smoothly, they work. end of story. The SRAM Force brakes are pretty sweet lookin' though. they're all skeletonized (unnecessary material drilled out) which looks neat and they work silently which is good.
Well, enough of the technical mumbo jumbo; it tips the scales at 15.5 lbs (give or take a few ounces), and that's what matters.
P.S. If anyone wants to rummage through my parts bin, I have the shimano/specialized version of basically everything listed above... shoot me an e-mail or call me and I'll tell you how much (if anything ) I want for it; some of it's real good shit.
2.11.2010
...new toys, necessary delays, and a peek under the drop cloth
Given the amount of time, effort and money (gathered through time and effort) I've invested in making a legitimate racing machine out of the Allez, I think it's only right that I resist the temptation to let it "drop" until it's complete...completely complete.
After having the most crucial components installed and taking it for a few quick spins to get accustomed with the new gear, I realized that it was missing a few finishing touches.
So tomorrow evening I will take delivery of this...
...from the good folks at NYC Velo (anyone who supplies me with "free" espresso while placing orders qualifies as good people).
I hope to find the time to install these guys on the bike prior to the phryday festivities, after which I will get the whole set up cleaned to a sparkle and go at it with a camera and tripod for the purposes of posterity and gloating (mostly gloating).
Anyways, here are a few spy photos of the build thus far...
Ok enough titillation for one day...
RIP Alexander McQueen, Franco Ballerini, and Lino Gastaldello.
and I'm out...
Update: Sorry about the shitty formatting; blogger has this new post-composing interface that is excruciatingly inconsistent... all those photos are supposed to line up vertically, though don't worry, I'll hopefully have it resolved soon.
After having the most crucial components installed and taking it for a few quick spins to get accustomed with the new gear, I realized that it was missing a few finishing touches.
So tomorrow evening I will take delivery of this...
...and this...
...from the good folks at NYC Velo (anyone who supplies me with "free" espresso while placing orders qualifies as good people).
I hope to find the time to install these guys on the bike prior to the phryday festivities, after which I will get the whole set up cleaned to a sparkle and go at it with a camera and tripod for the purposes of posterity and gloating (mostly gloating).
Anyways, here are a few spy photos of the build thus far...
Ok enough titillation for one day...
RIP Alexander McQueen, Franco Ballerini, and Lino Gastaldello.
and I'm out...
Update: Sorry about the shitty formatting; blogger has this new post-composing interface that is excruciatingly inconsistent... all those photos are supposed to line up vertically, though don't worry, I'll hopefully have it resolved soon.
2.09.2010
... back from the land of wherever
Happy holdays everybody. And happy new year as well, for that matter.
After a lengthy sabbatical from blogging, I have decided to return to posting about shit I find here or there that piques my interest or earns my ire. Of course that presupposes my having mountains of cool stuff worth looking at which (while perhaps I do now) is not always the case; especially after divulging it in large heaps on a daily basis.
Since my last post, I've had a life filled with both tumult and elation, though (for better or worse) more so of the tumultuous.
I spent Christmas in Washington State with the folks and opened some really great gifts between traipsing around the verdant wilderness of the northwest, which I must add, is just as foggy and moist as one would expect it to be.
The non-gift highlights of that trip were finally getting to see some of Seattle, including the Pike St. Market and the space needle.
Worth mentioning is the EMP/SFM. While its collections were totally rad, the "architecture" in which it was housed was bile-eliciting to say the least. I found it humorous that the first thing people said to me when I told them I wouldn't discuss my distaste of the building with them was, "It's supposed to look like a smashed guitar from above."
Fortunately for Frankie, it's adjacent to the space needle so that perspective is available, though I find it odd that one would design a thing to be viewed from another thing altogether.
This is certainly a topic for the Philosoraptor to tackle at some future date.
After a lengthy sabbatical from blogging, I have decided to return to posting about shit I find here or there that piques my interest or earns my ire. Of course that presupposes my having mountains of cool stuff worth looking at which (while perhaps I do now) is not always the case; especially after divulging it in large heaps on a daily basis.
Since my last post, I've had a life filled with both tumult and elation, though (for better or worse) more so of the tumultuous.
I spent Christmas in Washington State with the folks and opened some really great gifts between traipsing around the verdant wilderness of the northwest, which I must add, is just as foggy and moist as one would expect it to be.
The non-gift highlights of that trip were finally getting to see some of Seattle, including the Pike St. Market and the space needle.
Worth mentioning is the EMP/SFM. While its collections were totally rad, the "architecture" in which it was housed was bile-eliciting to say the least. I found it humorous that the first thing people said to me when I told them I wouldn't discuss my distaste of the building with them was, "It's supposed to look like a smashed guitar from above."
Fortunately for Frankie, it's adjacent to the space needle so that perspective is available, though I find it odd that one would design a thing to be viewed from another thing altogether.
This is certainly a topic for the Philosoraptor to tackle at some future date.
Anyway, returning to the city (new yorkers are so insular that they feel it unnecessary to preface 'city' with 'new york'), I turned my attention to several pressing matters that required my immediate attention, most importantly, the rapidly advancing first race of the [road] season.
Noting that my bicycle was in dire need of some sexification, I proceeded to spend countless hours at "work" perusing competitive cyclist (the most verbose and simultaneously selectively stocked bike-parts website), posting inane questions to bikeforums, and fantasizing about all sorts superfluous bells and whistles for my ride (as a figure of speech only, every roadie knows that bells are needlessly heavy and can easily be replaced by whistling.... with one's lips, that is).
Anyway, I'll save the bike-upgrade discussion for a later date, just wanted to say, "Hello, I'm back."
11.24.2009
...the weekend madness (installment 14)
I guess as long as the AutoCAD is fired up at the office, you may find the frequency of posting relegated to the "whenever I get a free moment/have something worth saying" status.
In a rare turn of events this weekend past, I actually went out and socialized with other people!
Three bars in two nights, check.
$150.00 of bike-stuff money spent on booze instead, check.
Splitting headache both Sunday and Monday mornings, check.
Seems like it was a pretty fun time, unfortunately I can't seem to recall the last and middle parts of those evenings. Since I typically stick with beer and am frequently broke as a joke, going to a bar or saloon (which only occur in the Southwest US and are marked by their double acting entry doors and unsavory clientele) is for me a rare opportunity to remind myself why I don't drink liquor.
I wouldn't go so far as to say I get blacked-out, but I definitely wake up in the morning panicking that a lamp shade may still be affixed to my noggin, or wondering how many people I offended with my tomfooleries. Since I'd consider myself fairly mild-mannered, the answer is likely none, but that doesn't stop me from ruing my decision to down that fifth or tenth shot of Jameson and shakily ride several miles home after reassuring the pensive crowd that I am actually quite skilled at handling a bicycle (that's the booze talking, just to keep you up to speed... And the "crowd" was probably just one disinterested stranger).
At any rate, I went out for a ride in the park Sunday afternoon and as usual, after five or so laps I noticed I had four remoras in my slipstream. I don't really mind if people want to subvert their workout by letting me work out for them, but I do find it pretty irritating when those guys (female cyclists, I find, are much more docile) decide it's alright if, after sucking my wheel for a few laps, to start yelling and generally ruining my nice, Sunday ride.
This particular instance really got me pissed:
As I crested a minor hill, remoras all still attached, I saw, about 100m ahead of me in the road, a couple lazily pedaling along on heavy looking cruiser bikes. I gave a friendly whistle and they turned, noticing the five of us bearing down on them from behind. Being gracious park-goers, they attempted to move to the left to allow us to pass on their right, which unfortunately is the wrong side for passing. Since I was already well to their left I called out, "on your left!" which caused the lady to wobble a bit and frantically veer to the right (well out of our way, mind you).
At this point the dickhead sucking my wheel decided to verbally abuse the poor woman who was only trying to be friendly and lend us some road space. I can't remember word-for-word, but I think his curt tirade went something like this: "GAWDDAMMIT! STRAIGHT LINE! AWWW JEEEEZ! FUCKIN BITCH!"
The reason I'm relating this unpleasant experience here is that it typifies precisely what happens every time I happen to be deeply interested in a given sport, hobby, profession, etc...
When I was a skater in my more youthful years, this same shit happened. Invariably I'd go to Southside Skatepark or the local spot, and there'd be a bunch of archetypal skate-rats fucking up a good time for everybody by living up to our negative stereotypes of malfeasance and anarchy.
When I decided to pursue the trade of architectural design, I likewise found that If my colleagues weren't metrosexual, sophomoric, orange-shoe-wearing, ninnies; they were likely to be of the bribe giving/taking, hooker-employing, government-bureau-cheating, architect-way. (that's right, I just called you out)
Now having to deal with this crap in cycling, I'm getting fed the fuck up.
Fortunately I'm not alone, someone called Steevo recently cobbled together this humorous tete-a-tete between two hipsters looking to break into the cyclocross scene with their haughty sense of entitlement and fixed gear bicycles:
This reminds me of another alarming subcultural phenomena, hipsters ultimately destroying other esoteric activities like cyclocross.
Though I take solace in the fact that where I want to go in cycling is where hipsters are unwittingly coming from; namely, track racing. I guess actually using an object or tool for it's intended purpose is against the hipster code of ironic conduct, so I can feel confident that they will be delightfully absent from the velodrome come springtime (fingers and toes crossed, I don't wanna be lumped in with anyone anymore, least of all noobs or freds, even though technically I am one).
Hopefully these territorial conflicts will be resolved more civilly than are rear end real estate disputes on the subway.
Speaking of track cycling (and of sitting around waiting to be accosted), I was delighted in the past few days to see that "TC" over at Fyxomatosis posted some sweet pics of the UCI Track Cycling World Cup in Melbourne, just at the time when my patience for roadies was wearing to it's thinnest yet.
If you're like me, and require your computer's desktop-way (which one never really sees any-way) to be cool and ever-changing, these two images are in super large format for just such a purpose. Check out the rest of the eye candy here, here, and here.
At any rate, it seems as though the anniversary of my birth is a mere seven days away, so if you feel compelled to congratulate me on being that much closer to death, please e-mail me directly or send a self addressed and stamped deep-fried turkey (ironically, deep-fried turkeys have a longer lead-time than 14,000 cubic feet of concrete, so good luck).
Until next time friends, steer clear of the zealots.
In a rare turn of events this weekend past, I actually went out and socialized with other people!
Three bars in two nights, check.
$150.00 of bike-stuff money spent on booze instead, check.
Splitting headache both Sunday and Monday mornings, check.
Seems like it was a pretty fun time, unfortunately I can't seem to recall the last and middle parts of those evenings. Since I typically stick with beer and am frequently broke as a joke, going to a bar or saloon (which only occur in the Southwest US and are marked by their double acting entry doors and unsavory clientele) is for me a rare opportunity to remind myself why I don't drink liquor.
I wouldn't go so far as to say I get blacked-out, but I definitely wake up in the morning panicking that a lamp shade may still be affixed to my noggin, or wondering how many people I offended with my tomfooleries. Since I'd consider myself fairly mild-mannered, the answer is likely none, but that doesn't stop me from ruing my decision to down that fifth or tenth shot of Jameson and shakily ride several miles home after reassuring the pensive crowd that I am actually quite skilled at handling a bicycle (that's the booze talking, just to keep you up to speed... And the "crowd" was probably just one disinterested stranger).
At any rate, I went out for a ride in the park Sunday afternoon and as usual, after five or so laps I noticed I had four remoras in my slipstream. I don't really mind if people want to subvert their workout by letting me work out for them, but I do find it pretty irritating when those guys (female cyclists, I find, are much more docile) decide it's alright if, after sucking my wheel for a few laps, to start yelling and generally ruining my nice, Sunday ride.
This particular instance really got me pissed:
As I crested a minor hill, remoras all still attached, I saw, about 100m ahead of me in the road, a couple lazily pedaling along on heavy looking cruiser bikes. I gave a friendly whistle and they turned, noticing the five of us bearing down on them from behind. Being gracious park-goers, they attempted to move to the left to allow us to pass on their right, which unfortunately is the wrong side for passing. Since I was already well to their left I called out, "on your left!" which caused the lady to wobble a bit and frantically veer to the right (well out of our way, mind you).
At this point the dickhead sucking my wheel decided to verbally abuse the poor woman who was only trying to be friendly and lend us some road space. I can't remember word-for-word, but I think his curt tirade went something like this: "GAWDDAMMIT! STRAIGHT LINE! AWWW JEEEEZ! FUCKIN BITCH!"
The reason I'm relating this unpleasant experience here is that it typifies precisely what happens every time I happen to be deeply interested in a given sport, hobby, profession, etc...
When I was a skater in my more youthful years, this same shit happened. Invariably I'd go to Southside Skatepark or the local spot, and there'd be a bunch of archetypal skate-rats fucking up a good time for everybody by living up to our negative stereotypes of malfeasance and anarchy.
When I decided to pursue the trade of architectural design, I likewise found that If my colleagues weren't metrosexual, sophomoric, orange-shoe-wearing, ninnies; they were likely to be of the bribe giving/taking, hooker-employing, government-bureau-cheating, architect-way. (that's right, I just called you out)
Now having to deal with this crap in cycling, I'm getting fed the fuck up.
Fortunately I'm not alone, someone called Steevo recently cobbled together this humorous tete-a-tete between two hipsters looking to break into the cyclocross scene with their haughty sense of entitlement and fixed gear bicycles:
This reminds me of another alarming subcultural phenomena, hipsters ultimately destroying other esoteric activities like cyclocross.
Though I take solace in the fact that where I want to go in cycling is where hipsters are unwittingly coming from; namely, track racing. I guess actually using an object or tool for it's intended purpose is against the hipster code of ironic conduct, so I can feel confident that they will be delightfully absent from the velodrome come springtime (fingers and toes crossed, I don't wanna be lumped in with anyone anymore, least of all noobs or freds, even though technically I am one).
Hopefully these territorial conflicts will be resolved more civilly than are rear end real estate disputes on the subway.
Speaking of track cycling (and of sitting around waiting to be accosted), I was delighted in the past few days to see that "TC" over at Fyxomatosis posted some sweet pics of the UCI Track Cycling World Cup in Melbourne, just at the time when my patience for roadies was wearing to it's thinnest yet.
If you're like me, and require your computer's desktop-way (which one never really sees any-way) to be cool and ever-changing, these two images are in super large format for just such a purpose. Check out the rest of the eye candy here, here, and here.
At any rate, it seems as though the anniversary of my birth is a mere seven days away, so if you feel compelled to congratulate me on being that much closer to death, please e-mail me directly or send a self addressed and stamped deep-fried turkey (ironically, deep-fried turkeys have a longer lead-time than 14,000 cubic feet of concrete, so good luck).
Until next time friends, steer clear of the zealots.
9.22.2009
...roller bored
So I was perusing the cycling blogs and whatnot just now and came across this interesting video of professional skateboarders talking about something that I'm not terribly interested in. What I am interested in is Eric Koston's little skid there at about the halfway point and what this means in regard to inter-subcultural trading.
I honestly had no idea that for some reason, skateboarders were turning to cycling (fixed gear riding, specifically) in droves. While I was aware that many of the bike shops that seem to be popping up all over the place happened to sell decks, trucks, and wheels; I'm amazed at the number of former skateboarders (such as myself) that have turned to cycling in great numbers.
Well, its pretty obvious that freestyle fixed gear cycling would draw constituents from skateboarding as both sports revolve around hanging out at strange locations and hucking oneself off of and over objects and obstacles; something John Prolly can certainly attest to.
Then you've got people like me who take on hobbies or sports for entirely different reasons... Personally, I gravitate toward activities that allow me to be somewhat antisocial since I detest the idea of team sports.
I started skating in sixth grade (I guess that means I was about 11 or 12), the most socially formative years of one's life, in part to have a hobby and develop skills at something I enjoyed, but also because it allowed me quiet, deeply personal time for solitary thought.
Getting out of the house and rolling around by myself were some of the fondest memories I have of growing up in Texas; given that, its really no stretch to see why I like road cycling so much. I enjoy letting the miles slide by in silence, simply enjoying the moment, taking in the scenery and getting a lot of thinking done in the process.
While skating is a decidedly introverted sport, cycling is even more so, which makes me wonder if I would do well to join a cycling team next season. As I'd stated before, I plan on racing as much as I can next summer and will hopefully manage to make it up two categories in one season (cat5 - cat3). However I'm hesitant to join a social cycling group despite the benefits I may reap from such involvement (racing tactics, fast group rides, snazzy logoed-up club kits, etc).
Being a highly critical person, I must very carefully choose which cycling club (if any) I would join. On one hand, there are big teams like Kissena and NYCC that everyone and their mother belong to, and on the other hand there are very small, tight knit clubs that are "invite only" status.
Initially, my rough plan of attack is as follows:
At any rate, starting last week, I'm training at Prospect Park as often as possible. I'll be doing race-pace rides around the 3.4 mi loop on Tuesdays and Thursdays every week at 8:00 p.m. with the remaining days being devoted to honing bike handling skills, endurance, climbing, and interval training.
If anyone feels like coming out for a zippy ride on Tuesday and Thursday evenings, you're more than welcome to join.
I honestly had no idea that for some reason, skateboarders were turning to cycling (fixed gear riding, specifically) in droves. While I was aware that many of the bike shops that seem to be popping up all over the place happened to sell decks, trucks, and wheels; I'm amazed at the number of former skateboarders (such as myself) that have turned to cycling in great numbers.
Well, its pretty obvious that freestyle fixed gear cycling would draw constituents from skateboarding as both sports revolve around hanging out at strange locations and hucking oneself off of and over objects and obstacles; something John Prolly can certainly attest to.
Then you've got people like me who take on hobbies or sports for entirely different reasons... Personally, I gravitate toward activities that allow me to be somewhat antisocial since I detest the idea of team sports.
I started skating in sixth grade (I guess that means I was about 11 or 12), the most socially formative years of one's life, in part to have a hobby and develop skills at something I enjoyed, but also because it allowed me quiet, deeply personal time for solitary thought.
Getting out of the house and rolling around by myself were some of the fondest memories I have of growing up in Texas; given that, its really no stretch to see why I like road cycling so much. I enjoy letting the miles slide by in silence, simply enjoying the moment, taking in the scenery and getting a lot of thinking done in the process.
While skating is a decidedly introverted sport, cycling is even more so, which makes me wonder if I would do well to join a cycling team next season. As I'd stated before, I plan on racing as much as I can next summer and will hopefully manage to make it up two categories in one season (cat5 - cat3). However I'm hesitant to join a social cycling group despite the benefits I may reap from such involvement (racing tactics, fast group rides, snazzy logoed-up club kits, etc).
Being a highly critical person, I must very carefully choose which cycling club (if any) I would join. On one hand, there are big teams like Kissena and NYCC that everyone and their mother belong to, and on the other hand there are very small, tight knit clubs that are "invite only" status.
Initially, my rough plan of attack is as follows:
- Train all winter against category 3 race times.
- Buy USAC racing license as an "Unattached Rider"
- Attend 10 races and category up to 4 by early next summer
- Enter Prospect Park Race series and ride in all races.
- THEN I will toy with the idea of joining a cycling club.
At any rate, starting last week, I'm training at Prospect Park as often as possible. I'll be doing race-pace rides around the 3.4 mi loop on Tuesdays and Thursdays every week at 8:00 p.m. with the remaining days being devoted to honing bike handling skills, endurance, climbing, and interval training.
If anyone feels like coming out for a zippy ride on Tuesday and Thursday evenings, you're more than welcome to join.
8.12.2009
... Video Wednesdays
I'm feeling kind of lazy today so thank goodness for video Wednesdays. I found this video of MC SpandX rapping about being a roadie and talking smack about hipsters which always provides some comic relief.
There has been some speculation as to whether Performance Bike secretly produced and distributed this video, though I don't really care. What I do care about is that MC SpandX is obviously ignorant of some of the finer points of both cycling and video-editing.
Firstly, during the chorus when he's lubin' his chain, he sprays his 'super loob' on the top run of the chain, which is incorrect (when lubricating a bicycle chain, always remember to apply oil to the bottom run to minimize the chance of oiling the braking surface of your rim and to flush grime toward the outside of the chain-links).
Also, he's wearing what appears to be the Australian National Champion Jersey, which annoys me.
As I mentioned earlier, I'm not usually inclined to critique one's style or manner of dress save egregious errors of wardrobe, but the widespread 'palping' of national or world champion markings 'rubs' me the wrong way.
Take note of the above rainbow pattern. This 'colorway' is reserved exclusively for use by people who have become a world champion in one cycling discipline or another (road race, TT, match sprint, etc...). Unfortunately, since most people on bikes are not racers (myself included, as of yet anyway) they are not subject to the stringent rules of USAC which would fine or disqualify a rider for misrepresenting him(or her)self as a national or world champion.
Similarly, national champions are accorded the honor of wearing their national jersey at races during the year of thier win, and may have all subsequent jerseys trimmed with that national 'colorway' for the rest of their career.
You may think that I'm going a little overboard by attacking the misappropriation of these 'colorways', but if everyone started wearing the rainbow jersey (and they have), it wouldn't hold any special significance for the few that actually earned it by being the absolute best cyclist in the world. I think it would be really exciting to see someone wearing the rainbow jersey and to know without a doubt that they're the best instead of wondering why they feel it necessary to masquerade as an ideal.
Unfortunately for my rigid principles, all sorts of cycling prody has become available with the rainbow trim. Helmets, pedals, rims, and caps alike have been emblazoned with it and risen accordingly in price (one noteable exception is with bicycles themselves. when a bike brand is ridden to victory by a world champ, the company is allowed to use the rainbow on frames of that year as is the case on all 2008-9 Specialized bikes, thanks to the likes of Paolo Bettini and Alessandro Ballan).
Little do these poseurs know, like salmon, those who don the rainbow jersey are a cursed population.
Then again, there have been much more brguiling trends amongst cyclists as evidenced by these strange handlebar grips forwarded to me by a reader:
Gives new meaning to screwing the guy next to you doesn't it?
There has been some speculation as to whether Performance Bike secretly produced and distributed this video, though I don't really care. What I do care about is that MC SpandX is obviously ignorant of some of the finer points of both cycling and video-editing.
Firstly, during the chorus when he's lubin' his chain, he sprays his 'super loob' on the top run of the chain, which is incorrect (when lubricating a bicycle chain, always remember to apply oil to the bottom run to minimize the chance of oiling the braking surface of your rim and to flush grime toward the outside of the chain-links).
Also, he's wearing what appears to be the Australian National Champion Jersey, which annoys me.
As I mentioned earlier, I'm not usually inclined to critique one's style or manner of dress save egregious errors of wardrobe, but the widespread 'palping' of national or world champion markings 'rubs' me the wrong way.
Take note of the above rainbow pattern. This 'colorway' is reserved exclusively for use by people who have become a world champion in one cycling discipline or another (road race, TT, match sprint, etc...). Unfortunately, since most people on bikes are not racers (myself included, as of yet anyway) they are not subject to the stringent rules of USAC which would fine or disqualify a rider for misrepresenting him(or her)self as a national or world champion.
Similarly, national champions are accorded the honor of wearing their national jersey at races during the year of thier win, and may have all subsequent jerseys trimmed with that national 'colorway' for the rest of their career.
You may think that I'm going a little overboard by attacking the misappropriation of these 'colorways', but if everyone started wearing the rainbow jersey (and they have), it wouldn't hold any special significance for the few that actually earned it by being the absolute best cyclist in the world. I think it would be really exciting to see someone wearing the rainbow jersey and to know without a doubt that they're the best instead of wondering why they feel it necessary to masquerade as an ideal.
Unfortunately for my rigid principles, all sorts of cycling prody has become available with the rainbow trim. Helmets, pedals, rims, and caps alike have been emblazoned with it and risen accordingly in price (one noteable exception is with bicycles themselves. when a bike brand is ridden to victory by a world champ, the company is allowed to use the rainbow on frames of that year as is the case on all 2008-9 Specialized bikes, thanks to the likes of Paolo Bettini and Alessandro Ballan).
Little do these poseurs know, like salmon, those who don the rainbow jersey are a cursed population.
Then again, there have been much more brguiling trends amongst cyclists as evidenced by these strange handlebar grips forwarded to me by a reader:
Gives new meaning to screwing the guy next to you doesn't it?
8.06.2009
... Video Wednesdays (on Thursday)
I think bicycle races are really exciting but I know that like golf, lots of people find it tests their patience to watch them. Frankly, I'm with them on that; for the most part, bike races are pretty boring until the last ten km or so.
I only like to watch the grand tours to report on them here and to hopefully be lucky enough to witness rare or possibly news-worthy action like crashes, attacks and my personal favorite, the sprints.
When you see a bike race as filmed from a motorcycle keeping pace with the peloton or a helicopter overhead, the speed with which the riders are traveling loses its impact somewhat. That's why i was glad to have stumbled across this video of the Post Danmark Rundt at Copenhagenize earlier today:
Though I'm reposting this video for an entirely different reason than Mikael did; I really enjoy the angle and anonymity of this video. I'm not so interested in the reactions of passing Copenhageners as I am with how it shows how brutally fast the end of a road race can be... a blur of wheels and smooth claves, gone in little over 7 seconds (save the stragglers, of course).
I only like to watch the grand tours to report on them here and to hopefully be lucky enough to witness rare or possibly news-worthy action like crashes, attacks and my personal favorite, the sprints.
When you see a bike race as filmed from a motorcycle keeping pace with the peloton or a helicopter overhead, the speed with which the riders are traveling loses its impact somewhat. That's why i was glad to have stumbled across this video of the Post Danmark Rundt at Copenhagenize earlier today:
Tour of Denmark 2008 - Bicycle Race from Colville Andersen on Vimeo.
Though I'm reposting this video for an entirely different reason than Mikael did; I really enjoy the angle and anonymity of this video. I'm not so interested in the reactions of passing Copenhageners as I am with how it shows how brutally fast the end of a road race can be... a blur of wheels and smooth claves, gone in little over 7 seconds (save the stragglers, of course).
7.31.2009
...a good day for a brewski
Since around 9000 BC, man (and occasionally woman) has imbibed himself with grain-based alcohols, arguably the most popular of which is beer. Being the third most popular drink in the world (behind water and tea, apparently), beers are numerous in kind and vary widely in flavor and content, yielding very specific tastes and preferences amongst those that enjoy the foamy beverage.
This was evidenced yesterday, when our man Bam shared a chat over a cold one with Henry Louis Gates Jr. and the Cambridge police officer that arrested him for disorderly conduct, Sargent James Crowley. Also in attendance was VP Joe Biden, but he had a non alcoholic brew (either he previously had problems with drinking, or he needed to drive somewhere later), so he can't really claim participation in the 'Beer Summit'.
Gates and Crowley were in good form, choosing Sam Adams Light and Blue Moon, respectively; though Obama once again donned his 'everyman' persona opting for Bud Light of all things... Biden drank an ironic brew called Bucklers.
I must tip my hat to Obama... It's no secret that I'm a fan of his, but a chat over a beer to cool the hot hearts of those at the center of a media-hyped 'controversy' on a beautiful summer evening seems to me to be a great way to make amends and quell animosities. I have rarely been in the mood to start shit with people while drinking beer, and can attest to it's friendliness-inducing nature.
Speaking of how yummy and awesome beer is, It is important to note how nutritious it is and its recognized usefulness to athletes; cyclists in particular. One 12 oz bottle of beer typically contains about 150 calories, 13 grams of carbohydrates, and a gram of protein. It's also is chock full of vitamins and minerals essential to bodies taxed by exercise, they include impressive amounts of B3 (niacin), and B9 (folate), to name a few, and being about 90% water, beer also makes it an excellent beverage for re-hydrating oneself after sweating profusely.
This interesting 1962 Tour de France documentary, forwarded to me by a reader, is testament to this. Note the "pub raids" about halfway through.
I wondered if the fans of a given cyclist would try to bar his rival from raiding their pub in hopes of giving their man a lead...
I really admire the cyclists who competed in the tour prior to the advent of race radios, team cars, air-conditioned lodging, and high tech sports drinks. It took true grit to complete the tour back then, and doping was done more so to dull the pain than it was to increase performance. In fact, it was a generally accepted fact that professional cyclists pulled a Tom Boonen every now and again to keep going under such strenuous conditions.
After I go riding tomorrow, I can guarantee I'll recuperate with a frosty friend or two... you should too!
This was evidenced yesterday, when our man Bam shared a chat over a cold one with Henry Louis Gates Jr. and the Cambridge police officer that arrested him for disorderly conduct, Sargent James Crowley. Also in attendance was VP Joe Biden, but he had a non alcoholic brew (either he previously had problems with drinking, or he needed to drive somewhere later), so he can't really claim participation in the 'Beer Summit'.
Gates and Crowley were in good form, choosing Sam Adams Light and Blue Moon, respectively; though Obama once again donned his 'everyman' persona opting for Bud Light of all things... Biden drank an ironic brew called Bucklers.
I must tip my hat to Obama... It's no secret that I'm a fan of his, but a chat over a beer to cool the hot hearts of those at the center of a media-hyped 'controversy' on a beautiful summer evening seems to me to be a great way to make amends and quell animosities. I have rarely been in the mood to start shit with people while drinking beer, and can attest to it's friendliness-inducing nature.
Speaking of how yummy and awesome beer is, It is important to note how nutritious it is and its recognized usefulness to athletes; cyclists in particular. One 12 oz bottle of beer typically contains about 150 calories, 13 grams of carbohydrates, and a gram of protein. It's also is chock full of vitamins and minerals essential to bodies taxed by exercise, they include impressive amounts of B3 (niacin), and B9 (folate), to name a few, and being about 90% water, beer also makes it an excellent beverage for re-hydrating oneself after sweating profusely.
This interesting 1962 Tour de France documentary, forwarded to me by a reader, is testament to this. Note the "pub raids" about halfway through.
I wondered if the fans of a given cyclist would try to bar his rival from raiding their pub in hopes of giving their man a lead...
I really admire the cyclists who competed in the tour prior to the advent of race radios, team cars, air-conditioned lodging, and high tech sports drinks. It took true grit to complete the tour back then, and doping was done more so to dull the pain than it was to increase performance. In fact, it was a generally accepted fact that professional cyclists pulled a Tom Boonen every now and again to keep going under such strenuous conditions.
After I go riding tomorrow, I can guarantee I'll recuperate with a frosty friend or two... you should too!
7.28.2009
...the weekend madness (installment 6)
So continuing with coverage of this weekend's epic rides, Sunday saw the peloton roll through eastern Paris to the Place de la Concorde, Jardin des Tuileries, and the Avenue des Champs-Élysées for a rousing eight lap finish to this three week long bike race.
The final stage is more of an exhibition stage where the riders are all smiles and camaraderie, in stark contrasts to the days before when the rivalries reared their ugly heads. Take, for example Contador and team Astana having a toast of champagne as they rode into town:
I'm not sure if that's actually champagne or if its apple juice. Drinking alcohol while racing a bicycle (even on a not so 'important' stage like this) seems like a bad idea to me. however, apple juice and a slice of toast with some nice marmalade would be lovely in my opinion. I think they should have a toaster in the team cars that plugs into the cigarette lighter so that team coaches can keep their racers fed with warm and crispy snacks. And maybe some cheese too; Brie maybe?
Speaking of Brie, while the peloton zipped toward the center of Paris, they passed through a region called Île-de-France, a place fairly reeking of the eponymous spread. The announcers oddly chose this moment to comment on the first two Japanese riders to complete the tour (apparently there were a few other guys who rode it long ago, but didn't finish); Fumiyuki Beppu and Yukiya Arashiro.
Perhaps it was an veiled jab at asian people's prevalent lactose intolerance, though we can't let this distract us from the real issue here: Why is it that the tour de france is hugely dominated by riders from the USA, Australia, and European countries?
Lets take a look at the podiums after stage 21 for reference shall we? First we have the first second and third placed riders (Contador 1st, Schleck 2nd, and Armstrong 3rd):
From left to right we've got a Luxembourger, a Spaniard, and an American. Seems fairly white-washed doesn't it? Lets see who else got up there:
...ah, yes; Franco Pellizotti, an Italian (obviously), won the King of the Mountains. The leader for sprint points was Thor Hushovd, A Norwegian...
...and lastly we have none other than the 'Mark Cavendish, winner of the day's stage:
Of course the 'Dish is from Britain, another stronghold of white-ness.
Because I don't know of any theories generally accepted by race scholars to this effect; I can only surmise that the elite of competitive cycling are selected from the ranks of each nation's top cyclists, and as such confuses me how there are virtually no (for instance) black cyclists in the grand tours.
Using my semi-regular trips to do laps in Prospect and Central Parks as a litmus, I would gather that cycling is quite the multi-ethnic sport, considering the number of roadies one encounters of all shapes and colors.
I'm not sure where I'm going with this... I just thought it odd that, for instance, the great majority of the world's greatest foot racers are black guys and gals, though that experience with stamina and power output wouldn't segue into a sport such as cycling, where such talents are essential. The fact that the race announcers spent a good fifteen minutes marveling at the foreign-ness of Beppu and Arashiro both baffles and worries me. I'm a firm believer that in order to combat racism, one must simultaneously accept it and ignore it where appropriate (the opposite of what the announcers were doing).
Anyway the conclusion of the tour, as I noted earlier, was pretty uneventful. Cavendish's victory on the Champs-Élysées was not only forseen by everyone, but anticlimactic as he and his lead-out man, Mark Renshaw, obliterated the peloton in the last turn and flew across the line a full three bike lengths ahead of the next riders.
This enormous gap and preemtive victory salute reminds me of another recent display of masterful sprinting ability. Though 'Dish's salute wasn't perhaps as creative as his previously noted SSS, It was one of sheer happiness, which is always nice to see, no matter the color or accent of the grin.
This is the 'Dish's sixth win at the 96th tour, and the most tour victories of any briton ever... Brilliant riding by the man x missle. To win in Paris is the pinnacle of acheivement for sprinters the world over.
The final stage is more of an exhibition stage where the riders are all smiles and camaraderie, in stark contrasts to the days before when the rivalries reared their ugly heads. Take, for example Contador and team Astana having a toast of champagne as they rode into town:
I'm not sure if that's actually champagne or if its apple juice. Drinking alcohol while racing a bicycle (even on a not so 'important' stage like this) seems like a bad idea to me. however, apple juice and a slice of toast with some nice marmalade would be lovely in my opinion. I think they should have a toaster in the team cars that plugs into the cigarette lighter so that team coaches can keep their racers fed with warm and crispy snacks. And maybe some cheese too; Brie maybe?
Speaking of Brie, while the peloton zipped toward the center of Paris, they passed through a region called Île-de-France, a place fairly reeking of the eponymous spread. The announcers oddly chose this moment to comment on the first two Japanese riders to complete the tour (apparently there were a few other guys who rode it long ago, but didn't finish); Fumiyuki Beppu and Yukiya Arashiro.
Perhaps it was an veiled jab at asian people's prevalent lactose intolerance, though we can't let this distract us from the real issue here: Why is it that the tour de france is hugely dominated by riders from the USA, Australia, and European countries?
Lets take a look at the podiums after stage 21 for reference shall we? First we have the first second and third placed riders (Contador 1st, Schleck 2nd, and Armstrong 3rd):
From left to right we've got a Luxembourger, a Spaniard, and an American. Seems fairly white-washed doesn't it? Lets see who else got up there:
...ah, yes; Franco Pellizotti, an Italian (obviously), won the King of the Mountains. The leader for sprint points was Thor Hushovd, A Norwegian...
...and lastly we have none other than the 'Mark Cavendish, winner of the day's stage:
Of course the 'Dish is from Britain, another stronghold of white-ness.
Because I don't know of any theories generally accepted by race scholars to this effect; I can only surmise that the elite of competitive cycling are selected from the ranks of each nation's top cyclists, and as such confuses me how there are virtually no (for instance) black cyclists in the grand tours.
Using my semi-regular trips to do laps in Prospect and Central Parks as a litmus, I would gather that cycling is quite the multi-ethnic sport, considering the number of roadies one encounters of all shapes and colors.
I'm not sure where I'm going with this... I just thought it odd that, for instance, the great majority of the world's greatest foot racers are black guys and gals, though that experience with stamina and power output wouldn't segue into a sport such as cycling, where such talents are essential. The fact that the race announcers spent a good fifteen minutes marveling at the foreign-ness of Beppu and Arashiro both baffles and worries me. I'm a firm believer that in order to combat racism, one must simultaneously accept it and ignore it where appropriate (the opposite of what the announcers were doing).
Anyway the conclusion of the tour, as I noted earlier, was pretty uneventful. Cavendish's victory on the Champs-Élysées was not only forseen by everyone, but anticlimactic as he and his lead-out man, Mark Renshaw, obliterated the peloton in the last turn and flew across the line a full three bike lengths ahead of the next riders.
This enormous gap and preemtive victory salute reminds me of another recent display of masterful sprinting ability. Though 'Dish's salute wasn't perhaps as creative as his previously noted SSS, It was one of sheer happiness, which is always nice to see, no matter the color or accent of the grin.
This is the 'Dish's sixth win at the 96th tour, and the most tour victories of any briton ever... Brilliant riding by the man x missle. To win in Paris is the pinnacle of acheivement for sprinters the world over.
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