Sunflower

Do you really need words?

Break on through to the other side

I just wrapped up my last, and biggest, training block.  Two weekends ago the plan was three long rides in three days.  That weekend I had just planned on going for hours in the saddle, but I ended up throwing in some bonus intensity as well.   I also got in two ninety minute plus climbs over the weekend, so my endurance was up to snuff.  Time constraints forced some compromise, but by the time I went to bed Sunday night I had three quality workouts in three days and I was prepared to be shattered.   To my delight, when I awoke Monday, I felt surprisingly good.  In fact; I felt ready for more.  I found more.

That is as far as one could go on a bike on that day.....

During the next work week, after a day of stairs and another of running it was time for a mid-week ride.  With my big three day training weekend ahead I didn’t want to go too hard, but I wanted to throw in some surges just to flex the legs.  On the first sustained climb I just gradually dialed up my effort.  I felt like I was generating power through all 360 degrees of my pedal stroke.  It also felt like I had a lot more if I wanted it.  I was reminded of how I felt after our trip to the Alps in 2012.  Instead of putting out power one leg at a time (think push, push, push, push-  while rocking side to side) I was just dialing it up (imagine an increasing hum).   Nice, very nice.

Then, this past weekend was our three day team training camp.   We had sun, clouds, rain, fire, gravel, smoke and snow by the time it was over.  I also had more than twelve hours of riding and 3,500 meters of climbing.  I had enough data to learn a few things about my body and hydration.  Facts and data do tell a story.  I wasn’t the fastest guy by any means, but once you find yourself on AARP’s mailing list, you learn to grade everything on a curve.

I used to teach my kids about the Law of Accumulation.  That is, everything counts.  When my kids were little we were leveling dirt in preparation for planting a lawn. I unearthed a big rock and it was too big to move in one piece.  I took a maul and started pounding on the rock.  Bang, bang, bang. To the naked eye nothing was happening.  Bang, bang, bang.  Still nothing.  Bang, bang, bang…..Crack!  The rock split into three pieces.  These pieces could be removed with a lever.  It wasn’t the last swing that broke the rock, but the accumulation of the twenty before it.  

 Burning up the road...

My training this year has had a lot of banging.  Hours in the saddle that left me trashed, hours on the trainer that felt like purgatory.  I felt like I was putting in time but not getting results. Life’s distractions put my head in a place where the lack of progress seemed par for the course.  Fitness seemed like a distant hope.  I suppose that deep down I did trust the process, but in my conscience head, the suffering was like therapy for the crap I was dealing with.  I was almost approaching the workouts like they were a form of penance.

Oh good, it's raining here too......

Trying to make your legs hurt in order to forget the frustrations in your head is a sad place to be.  Life, death and dying, birthdays, surgeries, family and oh, the joys of a simple life.  

Don't try this at home!

Imagine my surprise then when I finished the second weekend feeling strong.  Monday came and I felt like I could go again.  My legs were sore, but they felt like they had some strength.  Not quite twitchy, ready-to-go, but not wobbly either.   Tuesday dawned and the soreness was gone after only one rest day. 

 Now we're cookin'

I am, however, sticking with the training program and looking forward to a well-earned recovery week of easy spins and light running.  There is a bit more volume in a couple weeks, then just sharpening and some final recovery so I can be fresh when I ride in the land of croissants.

Eating Vegetables

Oh good,  It's still raining....

Early in the week the weekend looked rainy.  As the week went on the forecast just got wetter and wetter.  Friday at work I was trying to get myself psyched up for a solo slog on Saturday.  I even contemplated sending a team email along the lines of, “Saturday sucks, time is running out, who wants to suffer with me?” 

El Jefe’s strong shoulders have borne the mantel of leadership and so it was that he sent out the invitation to join in the Reindeer games on Saturday.  Five fools gathered in the pouring rain for a three and a half hour ride. 

Our expressions told the story, “Yeah it’s ugly. Let’s get this over with.”    I joined El Jefe’ The Judge, Turntable, and Sombrero under the grey Seattle skies.  We climbed, we pacelined, we shed layers, we put them back on, we ate, we drank and we paid our dues.

In years past I can recall April training rides in the Snohomish valley under bright blue skies.  Sun on our arms and legs as we churned along happily. Long rides where the kilometers just flew by as we played with short attacks and mini breakaways. 

This was not that. 

We haven’t seen each other in shorts yet in 2018.  Our summer adventure should be warm.  I know I am thinking about that warm sunshine every day as I ride indoors or as I layer up for another wet ordeal.  

Like fun, only not quite fun

We find take solace that rainy and 9C is a lot better than rainy and 2C.  Yet my pale arms beg for sunshine.  Where art thou spring? 

Just a three hour ride

My cyclocross races were typically forty to fifty minute events where you went full gas from start to finish.  You laid down your base of long rides in the summer and sharpened your fitness with intervals in the early fall.  By the end of the season you were managing your training to be fast and fresh for the races.

When the season ended and Sundays went from racing to the Coffee and Lies ride, the two hour ride felt long.  The short, intense hill repeats brought explosive fitness and a lack of patience for longer saddle time.

I remember after my first France trip how short that 2 hour Coffee and Lies ride felt and how the climb back up to the coffee shop seemed so short.  It felt like the climb was so short it wasn’t worth shifting out of the big ring.

My first year of road cycling I had planned a thirty five mile ride that took me across farmland to a small town before retracing my way back home.  When I got to the town I stopped and bought a Gatorade and felt like I was an explorer on an expedition.  “I come from a land far, far away,” was my thought.  I returned home and knew I had entered a new world of long rides.  Over the next year those long rides culminated in a double century ride.  I owned one inherited jersey and one pair of shorts and the chamois was leather. I didn’t know what a base layer was.

In 2018 I’ve been building my base for another summer adventure.  Only on two of my long rides have I had any company.  I’ve stretched my indoor sessions to an hour and a half or two hours during the week (I’m sick of the rain).  I’ve got the aches and pains to validate that I am building a base.  I confess the solitary nature of my build up this year has challenged my resolve.  Lucky for me I have been looking to Hottie as my inspiration for doing hard things.

I’m finishing a rest week and my plan calls for easy Z 1-2 rides this weekend. In my head I’m thinking, “Just a three hour ride on Saturday.”  I guess the fact that a three hour ride is prefaced by “Just” is a sign I’ve put some money in my base training bank.

With that said; I wish we could get some frickin' sunshine on a weekend this month.  Solitary rides are one thing; but the wet, long, solitary rides sometimes feel like I’m paying for my past (or future) sins. I have been able to channel my inner-Belgian to convince myself to go out alone on Saturday, but I seem to be out of courage/stupidity come Sunday.

I have some big training weeks/weekends coming up and I’ll need all the courage/stupidity I can muster. Five and six hour rides are on the agenda and back to back to back days should get me the fitness I need.