The roads up in Salmon Creek are great. Lots of country roads with little or no traffic. The drivers seem polite — far from the homicidal maniacs I seem to encounter when I ride near my house in Clackamas county.

I found one little hill, but no sustained climbs. But I’ll keep searching. The Vancouver Bike Club seems to have several routes up in my area there, so there’s bound to be something. And if my climbing resolution doesn’t work out, well, I guess I’ll survive.

But it was so nice to ride outside! I have done maybe five outdoor training rides since I took the job at ITI. The rest of my training has been on a spin bike in a dark room, or on the trainer in the garage. While there’s a certain amount of suffering that helps my racing, it really started to lose its appeal. Now the trick will be putting together a route that can handle training intensities, but I think that should be easy in the lightly populated areas I saw on my Monday ride.

The other thing That has opened up in terms of training is that Chris and I are racing to 175 lbs. We both weigh about the same: between 195 and 200. It’s exciting and it has revealed to me that I am a fairly competitive person.

For example, I started thinking about where I carry most of my weight: my upper body. I have a gut to be sure, but I have flabby arms and a lot of fat on my chest and back. Yet my training plan was focused on my cycling needs. “Was.”

I think I am now going to emphasize, in addition to my hard riding (more on that later), push-ups, pull-ups, core, and a bit of swimming. The push-ups will be the big change: I am going to try to really squeeze them in in the morning and evening along with all the other stuff I do. When I was in ROTC, I improved my push-up score quickly with relatively short workouts in my dorm. It was just a matter of doing them. No space required. Tonight I just stripped off my dress shirt and knocked out 5 sets of 10 push-ups.

The pull ups will mostly be geared to keep my shoulders healthy. I already have started focusing on core and balance work at the gym.

Finding time to swim will be a challenge, though. I am assuming I won’t get many weekend rides. I am hoping to try to get a gym workout on the weekend if I take Lo to the daycare there. But I might need to let the New Year’s Resolution rush subside.

But honestly, if I can do three lunch rides, two gym workouts, pushups in the off hours, and eat a bit lighter, I will be so far ahead of the game.

And I’ll crush Chris.

A muddy, bog-slog kind of day. In other words, "perfect."

That, ladies and gentlemen, is how to finish a season. Best finish of the year, feeling 110% amazing the entire race, on a bog-slog of a mudder course on a bluebird day. Other than the fact that I forgot a clean post-race shirt, there was literally NOTHING wrong with my final race of the season at Kruger’s Farm (and a 100% turnaround from the Kermesse held at the beginning of the season — WTF was THAT?)

And I did it on my singlespeed with clinchers. Because apparently, all those gear choices and high-end tubular tires were really slowing me down.

OK, so let’s just rewind the whole thing. I slept in a bit, and got there about an hour before my race. I had to register, which meant I would not be one of the 70+ riders who received a call-up. Paul and I, per our tradition, staged together at the very back. I staged on the far right of the crowd and just sort of cruised the flat straightaway that opened the race. Then we got into the ultra-slick muddy section where everyone slowed down. I darted for the cones and blasted up the right side. About 300 yards later at the stairs, I’d passed maybe 50 people.

I sprinted up the stairs and passed another bunch of people, then settled into the downhill section, which became the only part of the race I didn’t pass people. As we rolled into the blueberry bushes, I started passing again. Around an off-camber corner and barrier, and onto the flats. I punched it. Effortless.

Effortless is the best way to describe the race. Everyone I saw in front of me? I knew I could catch and pass them. Any part of the course. The slick corners? No problem. The drag through the mud? No worries. Over the barrier? I got it. I mean, it was unworldly. I was passing people on the run up the stairs. Do you have any idea how un-Thom-like that is?

In my last race of 2011, I finished 25th out 128 riders. Staging from the VERY BACK (again).

I had one wipeout, where my back tire slid out in a rut. It threw me down hard, and my shoulder hurt, but I was back up quickly and no one passed me — I doubt I lost more than 15 seconds.

We talked afterward, and here’s my thought: my single speed must be set up differently. I must be using different muscles. Because both races I did on my SS this year were ultra-fast, and I felt great. So sometime soon, I plan to take my bikes in and have them adjusted to fit me more like the SS fits me.

Anyway, it was a great way to go out. It was a hard course, and I owned it (well, it was great for *me.* Clearly I didn’t win or anything). The 2012 season is several months away, and while I am looking forward to free weekends with Amanda and Lo, I know it won’t take long for me to start dreaming of possibilities for next year.

Good times.

Anyway, it got me thinking that my previous list of goals for 2012 was fairly amorphous. So let’s get a bit more concrete.

• I will lift weights until short track starts, a minimum of two days a week.
• I will be able to squat 250 lbs.
• I will be able to do 60 push-ups.
• I will be able to do 10 pull-ups.
• I will be able to do, um, a bunch of sit-ups. Or something having to do with my core.
• I will figure out some sort of plyometric/explosiveness goals. Probably vertical leap, standing broad jump, shuttle run.

I need some concrete cycling goals, too. I’m struggling a little to figure out how to make them concrete.

• I will ride 3 days a week.
• I will do a hilly ride once a week.
• I will do a hard ride once a week — like up into the race zone (170bpm) for at least 15 minutes.
• One of my rides  will last for a minimum of 75 minutes at least once a week, even if I have to do it on the trainer. And chances are, I will. Ha!
• I will not fear a lunch workout and an after-Laurel-goes-to-bed workout. Because after all, it probably only adds up to 60 minutes of effort.

Nice, right? No. Dumb. Because I crashed right after that and the guy passed me. He sits up, feels lame, and then sees me crash. Do his competitive juices kick back in, or does he feel some sort of pity? It shouldn’t matter. In the last part of the race, never quit. It’s cyclocross. Anything can happen.

Me, running up the weird off-camber uphill. It looked SO RIDEABLE but I could NEVER get up it.

As the zeroes, we were called up dead-last. And in a field of 190 dudes clinging to some level of fitness, I had to fight through a lot of bodies in the first mile. And I fought through them REALLY well.

I went from about 190th to probably mid-pack in the first lap. I made up a TON of ground passing people everywhere I could. I hugged the cones at the bottom of the off-camber stretch. I bumped and bumbled my way through the crowd in the mud. I took inside lines then sprinted out of the corners. And then I was totally gassed going into the second lap, but hey, whatever, I’d done all the hard work.

The second and third laps were good. Not super fast, but I was riding well. And then on the fourth lap, I had just an epic crash. Like over-the-handle bars, into the blackberries at the bottom of a hill kind of kablooey.

I stood up and felt confused for a sec. What am I doing? Oh, cowbell, bike, hammering heart: IT’S A RACE! I have no idea how I got on the ground or what happened. Go figure. Anyway, my chain was off and it took me two remounts to get it back on properly. Based on my other lap times, I probably lost a minute there. A LOT of people passed me. And when I got going again, I wasn’t hurt, but the crash really made me tired. Like it was hard to chase again.

But chase I did, and re-caught some folks. I really put the hammer down in the last half-lap of the last lap, passing a bunch of folks in this back woodsy technical area. I was like, “SWEET! Just hop these barriers, do a safe turn onto the pavement and…”

Except when I unclipped at the barrier, my foot didn’t come out and I crashed. HARD. I got up, tried to remount, but my chain was off. I hopped off and started to run (it wasn’t THAT far), and then I saw it was probably 200 yards. Oh, I guess that IS kinda far. I was too tired to run it, so I put the chain on and soft-pedaled to the finish.

I think 10-15 people passed me in the second crash, and judging by the timing and speed, I lost about 1:20 in that crash. Given how good I was going until that point, I probably lost more time than that.

But you know, whatever. I staged at the back. My heroic first lap(s) make me feel really proud of that race. The fact that I played all my crash cards in one race is just the way it goes. I did a little math with the OBRA results, and if you subtract 2:20 from my time, I would’ve placed 85th, which is pretty much mid-pack. So seriously, BFD. I’ll take the positives and crash less next time!

Gasping, I still had his wheel as we crested the “hill” and turned into this narrow muddy section that flattened out. I pulled up next to him trying to find a line. I felt like if I could establish inside position coming into the last turn, I’d have a chance.

As I pull up next to him, he says, “I can’t hold you off any more. I’m done.”

I punched it. I mean, I jumped out of the saddle and sprinted, because I was absolutely on the ropes. I figured me jumping like that would dispirit him, and that was A-OK by me. If he had any idea how much he’d hurt me on that little hill, he would’ve found another 5 seconds of effort. And that was literally about how much it was: 5 seconds to round the corner, turn onto the pavement, and then 20 yards to the finish line.

But if my season ended on that, I’d be happy. Because having someone just *fold* like that after chasing them was awesome. (Note: I just realized that I’m super excited about barely beating someone who is nearly 50. Kinda takes a bit of the excitement out of it. Ah well.)

Backing up a bit, the course at Edgefield was crazy. Paul described it best: it was like someone had seen a video of a cyclocross race, and put in the nuttiest features they could. There were two impossible-to-ride run ups, and a third with the weather. There were about four others that were too tough to ride because the grass and mud were too slick. One of the crazier run ups was so torn up and steep, everyone was looking for footholds and handholds.

It was a hilly course, and that’s usually REALLY bad for me. But today, most of the uphill needed to be run. And it was so hard that everyone was kinda intimidated by it. Whatever it was, I eked out 20th out of 43. Woo-hoo! Top half! And Paul got 8th! A top 10!

The last two laps I was going back and forth with these two guys. One guy crashed going over this curb-barrier combo. He’d really started to fade, though, so I think I could’ve beat him. The other guy had a few seconds on me at that point, and I made up time in a series of tight turns, then caught him on a slick downhill with a fearless (read: stupid) bit of descending. From there, it set up the great finish.

One key thing I learned? I can steer the bike better in the drops than I can in the hoods. Especially in sharp, muddy corners. I think it has to do with two things: my weight being more over my front wheel gives the bike more ability to hold the line. And my arms aren’t locked out the way they are when I’m on the hoods, which means I can steer without adjusting my center of gravity as much.

And then after the race, things were super. We hung out and drank beer. We got lunch. We sat around the fire pit. We ate pumpkin pie that Amanda brought. Oh, and I got a Garmin Edge 500 from Amanda and the Muddy Iguanas for my birthday, and I’m SUPER excited about trying it. I think I’m gonna have to start taking my bike in to ride at lunch!

So, on the whole? Perfect. Edgefield is a great venue with the restaurants and everything there. I don’t think it can get too much larger — there’s really not enough parking or staff. But this year, it was absolutely perfect.

That said, I really hope I do well tomorrow. I’ve been looking at crossresults.com, and becoming increasingly sad about my athletic performance this season. Jumping into Excel, you can see why: of a dozen races this season, I’ve been in the top half only 3 times. The top half.

But you know, I’ll do how I do. I’m not gonna get mad or get depressed about it. At the end of the season, I’ll make a chart of my placings, and use it as motivation for the next 9 months while I prepare to rock the socks off 2012.

So I am trying to figure out how to get better next year with the same limitations I have this year. Indeed, possibly with even greater time limitations because Laurel will be older and cuter!

One thing I learned this year: saddle time is a must. Even if it’s on a spin bike, I have to get time on a bike. Swimming is good, but it’s not saddle time. I am not sure about running — probably OK as a cross training thing to balance out the muscles, but I should probably train for what I know I need to do.

Thus: a mixture of goals and tactics.

I will hit short track and cross really hard.
I will weigh 180 before I get to short track.
I will have some seriously powerful and fast legs for cross.
I will work out with intensity.
I will lift weights and do plyo to strengthen my legs and core, and swim to slim my upper body.
I will monkey around for the month of December and January, doing most anything except biking. I will enjoy recharging.
I will eat lightly and healthy, and I will enjoy it.

I talked in the last post about all the stuff surrounding the race, so I thought I’d recap the actual races here.

On Saturday, we staged at the front. I ended up 59th out of 110. A lot of things went right in that race — I caught and passed Paul, which seems to NEVER happen any more. He passed me back again because I augured my wheel into some deep sand and crashed, but I finished right behind him. Typically, he’s many minutes in front of me. So I consider that a big personal win.

The course was hard and technically challenging. Super deep dust and dirt, hidden rocks, and a wicked fun flyover ramp. The stairs were a fun run-up, and one that I liked better than running up dirt hills. Probably because the footing was better. Like everyone, I miss the mud. But this was a challenging course, too; probably just as difficult as a muddy course because it was so slippery. The weather could not have been more perfect; 60 degrees and sunny.

The Sunday course was a ton of fun, too. Maybe even more fun than Saturday. They added a hard hill in the back area, some fun drop offs, and generally re-routed things a differently. For this race, I staged at the back. And since Saturday night sucked and Sunday morning was a clusterfuck, I was a gentle honey badger: I didn’t give a shit in the nicest way possible. My competitive switch was firmly in the OFF position. I rode easy, gave high-fives to the crowd, and got my ass whipped (literally) by the lady with a riding crop wearing the S&M outfit. The pictures are my evidence: I had a GREAT time riding Sunday.

The only problem I ran into was a “wardrobe malfunction.” My pants tore and got wrapped around my leg in a bad way. I had to stop to rip them off. I probably lost a minute or so, and then another 20 seconds later when I had to pull some safety pins out of my waistline. But hey, whatever. I really didn’t care. I’d had fun while not getting DFL. That is a good race. I think I was 68th out of 90.

Anyway, there’s a video coming soon from the Sunday race. Annie’s dad had one of those GoPro cameras, and he mounted it on my bike. I hope it turns out OK!

From Halloween Cyclocross, posted by Thom Schoenborn on 10/31/2011 (33 items)

Generated by Facebook Photo Fetcher

It was exacerbated by the fact that Lo was throwing up all week last week. Like, literally every night she’d vomit the entire contents of her stomach all over Amanda or I. But mostly Amanda. And she had maybe one good night of sleep, which meant we (read: Amanda) had pretty much zero nights of good sleep. (Hell, I was just standing around at a stupid tradeshow all week. Whee!)

So we thought there’s no way she’ll rally for Bend. Let’s just stay in and sew all weekend. But Thursday night she ate and slept and woke up like a million bucks. So we decided we’d go.

The first night in Bend was great. She was a delight. The folks we stayed with adored her and brought out all these old toys. There was much laughing and cooing. The first day at the race was super-fun, too.

But the second night, the wheels just fucking came off. Up every hour. Crying intensely. Waking up screeching. Very little sleep. Then we lost our car keys, which threw race prep and costume prep out the window. Expectations? Yeah, I don’t even know why we bother with them.

I’m typically a pretty organized and hup-hup sort of person, especially away from home. Keep things dialed in, have a plan, get places early, fold my clothes, do the dishes.

There was none of that this weekend. Laurel was all-consuming for Amanda and I, especially in combination with the races and costumes. Help with dishes? Ha! I’m trying to keep my daughter from destroying your living room. Help with dinner? Please, I’m making a bottle and trying to stop her from screeching like a banshee so maybe we can get some sleep tonight. Our hosts were the most gracious and kind folks EVER, and Jimmy and Annie were incredibly helpful. We could not be more lucky.

Still, I felt oddly helpless. And this quote (found by Amanda) about parenting explains a lot, I think:

I was having a conversation with a friend who had recently become a parent, and she reminded me of something I had forgotten about since my daughter was born. She was describing this what-have-I-done feeling – I just got everything perfect in my life, and then I went and messed it all up by having a baby. I don’t feel that way anymore, but the thought certainly crossed my mind a few times at the beginning. Eventually you just fall in love and forget about everything else, but it’s not a very comfortable transition. I compare the process to becoming a vampire, your old self dies in a sad and painful way, but then you come out the other side with immortality, super strength and a taste for human blood. At least that’s how it was for me. At any rate, it’s complicated.

This season with cyclocross has been watching the old me die, and the new me emerge. I like the new me. I’m way more focused. There’s way less drama. I am tireless. I will go toward that light in a race. I am fearless with my efforts. I will dig deeper and push harder than I ever knew I could.

The old me? All the stuff surrounding racing and a job and our relationship and travel? It would’ve been easier. We really did have things all figured out. That’s the part that’s hard: knowing that the other stuff could’ve been so much easier without Laurel.

But then we wouldn’t have Laurel. And on balance, that would’ve been a tragedy.

From CodingHorror.com

The post from Coding Horror reminds me very much about the way I related parenthood to a friend a while back. When I coached swimming, dealing with beginners forced me to break down into tiny segments all the things I’d learned and repeated a bajillion times. Pushing off the wall, streamlining, arm and shoulder position, calculating intervals. Teaching all those little things helps me re-learn them, and do them right myself. Having a baby makes me a better human because I get to re-learn everything. I get to consciously re-experience things that I learned, hard-wired, and forgot during those first four years.