I think that I’m going to lower it a little, which breaks my heart, because I simply could not hit 175 today. I got up to 174 once for a split second. And I’m not over-tired. I did mash the gears a bit rather than spinning, but still. The reason I don’t want to do it is that my other intervals simply don’t feel that hard. Over-unders are hard, but not scary. And Steady State intervals are kind of cake. To lower all those heart-rate ranges feels like… it’s just too easy.

So my first option is to spin the gears and keep a higher cadence next time and see if that gets the heart-rate up a little higher. And if that doesn’t work, maybe I’ll change my heart rate ranges then.

Here’s the workout. Click through and look at the heart-rate chart — that’s where you can see the six big efforts.

The other stuff I wanted to remember was to keep my core a little tighter. I rocked quite a bit today.

And I want to move my seat forward a little bit. My back hasn’t been hurting AT ALL, so I probably shouldn’t mess with it. But I’m putting a lot of pressure on my quads, and maybe I can get a little more power out of the bike if my glutes are engaged too. Kinda nervous about it, because I’m really happy with how I’m riding, and I want to stay fast, but I also want to get faster. I’ll change it, and if things feel off, I can always change it back.

Typical workouts are series of 9-12 minute intervals run at (for me) 160-165 BPM on my heart-rate monitor. or Over-Under intervals where I do 2 minutes at 160-ish, then a minute at 168-ish, then drop down and do it twice more. This next week starts a series of 3-minute all-out efforts that are gonna hurt hurt hurt.

So how do I know it’s working? The “easy” rides I have are getting faster without me working much harder. Some of my Strava segments improve with a lower heart rate and a much easier RPE (rate of perceived exertion; i.e. how much did that hurt?)

One thing that hasn’t gone as well as I’d hoped so far is my weight has stayed pretty constant. I feel and look a bit trimmer, so I am hoping that my legs are gaining weight while it comes off the rest of my body. That part has annoyed me to the point that I am going to actually diet a bit for the next few weeks leading up to short track. Not that the weight hurts me in short track, but I reckon it’ll be harder to eat better when summer BBQ season hits. We are also going to try to do a bit of yoga after Lo goes to bed in the evenings rather than putter around on our computers.

Anyway, Oregon is in a stretch of AMAZING spring weather right now, so it’s been incredibly easy to get out and train. With short track right around the corner (it seems), the timing of the sun and warmth have only added to my motivation. It’s going to be a pretty strong season, I can just feel it.

I am so, so, so broken right now.

At some point, I’d described the Ronde as the hardest thing I’d ever done. That seems accurate today: last year’s Ronde was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. This year it was certainly hard, and I still didn’t make it up Brynwood or College without walking, but it wasn’t scarring. As I told Paul while we reconned the route the last two weekends:

I don’t have memories of the Ronde, just flashbacks.

This year was easier because:

• I rode my ‘cross bike, which has compact chainrings on the front.
• I’d reconned the route the past two weeks
• I’ve been working pretty hard and pretty consistently since ‘cross ended
• I’m as light as I ever was last season
• I started the intense Carmichael Time Crunched Cyclist program about three weeks ago
• Paul rode with me.

The fact that Paul didn’t completely dust me until the last two climbs (when my legs were literally quivering) tells me I’m on the right track with my training. And oh, on those last two climbs, he did dust me good. I mean, he stayed with me, but I was a good way behind him, and he actually turned around to find me on Fairmount before the last pitch of the last climb because I was just soft-pedaling the flats.

But I felt good! I had power all day when I needed it, and was never in difficulty or feeling down about the whole endeavor.

At the top, Paul’s adorable family met us. We hung out for a bit while I tried not to fall over, then I zipped down Vista and back to the car.

When I got home, I took an ice bath. Or at least as close to an ice bath as I’ll ever come, which was very, very cold. In fact, when I first sat in it, I honestly worried a heart attack was imminent. It absolutely took my breath away. A little focus and some controlled breaths later, and everything was hunky-dory. The bath seems to’ve made a difference: today, the recovery ride wasn’t too awful, and my legs woke up toward the end.

Less of a Race, More of a Ride

I had zero competitiveness about this race. I wasn’t trying to catch anyone, I wasn’t trying to beat anyone. I was just riding it to finish. As my friend, Cecily, put it: “Have fun, don’t die.” However, I will say that when I rode with people, especially on the descents, I rode faster to keep up with them and not clog the trail. I even passed a few people on the first downhill bit!

Descending was Hilarious

But after that first downhill bit, and after a lot of people passed me, the conditions on the trails really deteriorated. Super greasy mud, incredibly deep mud, one section that was clay was absolutely icy — I crashed there at least three times in the span of 100 yards. And the worse the conditions got, the more trepidatious I got. I entered one section behind two women, and 4 minutes later, they were 400 yards ahead of me.

Climbing was… OK

There were parts of the race where I climbed pretty well. During the second huge climb, I closed a 3-minute gap down to about 15 seconds on a bunch of folks ahead of me. Who then promptly opened it right back up on the descent. Whatever.

Two things occur to me about the climbing: not having ANY idea of the course, I was really hesitant to dig very deep. If the course turned crazy steep, or the climbing just *kept*going*, I worried I would bonk or just overheat or just fry. That’s a fear I’ll have to get over, though I think doing much longer training rides will be a part of overcoming that fear.

About the Bike

The second thing is that I just don’t know how to go very fast on that mountain bike. The geometry feels weird, and I don’t know how to pedal it fast. I just feel like I’m bouncing. There’s no power there yet. The pedaling will, I think, work itself out with time and a longer crankset. Paul has some 170s on there, and I want at least 172.5 if not 175s.

The fit? Well, I might take it in and have someone look at me on it to make suggestions, and frankly, I might at some point need a bigger bike. But for now, just for riding, it was fine. Honestly, other than short-track and the occasional rides with the Muddy Iguanas, long races are not in its future.

My Stomach

With 10 inches of rain in the month of March, and 4 inches in the prior week alone, I was really worried about not just the conditions, but getting soaked and cold. As it turns out, I was fine. I borrowed some shoe covers from Chris, and my feet didn’t get very wet. I wore my crappy old Marmot rain jacket and stayed dry-ish (except for all the sweating).

But my biggest fear of all was bonking. I did not want to bonk and be an hour from anywhere, with nowhere to go but back uphill and back downhill through treacherous trails. So I took some gels along, and a bar, and half a PBJ. In the first 90 minutes, I had two gels and a bar. And ugh, did my stomach hurt.

As much as anything, I think that’s a part of why I didn’t climb very hard. It hurt in a way where I couldn’t tell if I was hungry or if it was just achy. During the last hour, I think, I had my half PBJ, and it carried me to the end.

But Was it Fun?

Yes, it was fun to be out there and try something new, and to survive what were some pretty tricky conditions.

No, not really. It was a little too far for me and the conditions were about surviving instead of learning.

Yes, it was fun to chase that group down the first descent.

No, it was not fun to crash repeatedly in the clay.

Yes, it was awesome riding down with Jimmy, and getting a beer afterward.

No, it was not fun riding the last 90 minutes basically by myself.

Yes, it was fun to do a long ride like that which will help my fitness.

No, it was not fun to ride in fear that my body would bonk, shut down, get cold, or just quit.

Yes, it was fun to get muddy.

No, I am still unsure of my ability to go fast on a mountain bike.

Yes, I went faster than I thought I could or would.

Today at lunch was maybe the worst weather I’ve ever pedaled in, and having ridden a bit for the last several years, that’s saying something. The sky dumped on me for an hour straight. Absolutely dumped. The first and last five minutes of my ride had sprinkles, and the rest of the time was just a deluge.

At the far corner of my ride, I turned into a wicked headwind in the middle of an open field, and was absolutely pummeled. Best: it turned uphill too. I probably was going 12 MPH for 10 minutes. Hilarious.

Earlier in the week, I rode 22 minutes at lunch because it was so blustery and windy that I nearly crashed twice (and in fact, I think I did something to my rear wheel during one of those bunny-hop the curb scenarios because today I broke a spoke, goddammit).

And this past Sunday, we went mountain biking near Scappoose. We ended with a quick jaunt up Rocky Point Rd., where I got so cold and utterly soaked that it took me 15 minutes of the drive home (in dry clothes) to feel my feet again, and the full drive to feel at all warm.

But here’s the thing: working out? Riding? Running? All this? It’s my time. It’s fun. I look forward to it, because if I don’t, then what am I looking forward to that is *all*mine*?

The view from Hwy 101 between Pacific City and Neskowin, Oregon.

We arrived to a wind and sleet storm — we seriously considered not riding Saturday because conditions seemed downright dangerous. But things calmed enough that we decided to brave it. We headed south on 101, which is something I never thought I’d do. I mean, 101 during the summer is a terrifying proposition on a bicycle. Lots of cars and RVs, combined with a lot of tight, blind corners. We only needed to go 8 miles or so to the next town of Neskowin, and it was an easy stretch of road with a super-wide shoulder. Plus, it’s *really* not summer, so traffic was light.

The wind wasn’t too bad, more of a crosswind. And we avoided any rain for the whole ride. However, it seemed whenever we pointed the bikes downhill, it would start hailing and sleeting. And when you’re zipping along at 30 mph and one of those ice balls smacks your lips? It hurts.

South of Neskowin, we turned onto Slab Creek Road, and followed it up into the forested hills. We seemed to have a tailwind for most of the climb, so we really rolled. At some point, we turned around and did the hill from the other side, and did a little out-and-back. No traffic to speak of on Slab Creek Road, and the pavement was fair.

I say “little,” but that’s likely the longest bike ride I’ve done in six months. Which, when you think about it, is sad. But hey whatever. I have a kid, and I’m finding time to train. What I lack in duration I try to make up for in intensity. I was, however, encouraged by the whole thing. I know that I was probably another 5 miles from bonking, so I clearly did a poor job of feeding myself on the ride. But I didn’t feel bad. Like, the whole ride, I just rode within myself. Of course, with an average speed of 13.9 mph, that’s not too hard.

Saturday night was filled with a few beers, a big dinner of rice and beans and meat from every domesticated animal I could find, and a lot of laughs. Embrocation and the many dangers thereof seemed to dominate the conversation.

Sunday, the weather was wet, but calm. Amanda and I needed to head back to Portland, so I called for a short ride. I also ended up under-dressing, so our planned 2-hour ride became a shorter ride about 20 minutes in when I realized my shoe covers weren’t doing much to keep my feet dry.

We rode out Little Nestucca River Hwy, which on this weekend of nasty weather, didn’t have very much traffic on it. However, I think our timing was fortunate, because that road is a decent route from Salem and Portland to that neck of the woods. Also, that road has almost no shoulder whatsoever, and a lot of tight turns and single lane bridges. Despite that, cars drive about 50-60 mph on it. You’ve been warned.

Once again, the road tilted ever-so-slightly up, but we sat on Jimmy’s wheel and everything was easy-peasy. After cresting a punchy little hill, where Jimmy demonstrated the form that led him to 2nd place at Cherry Pie last weekend, we took a quick break, than headed back.

I was cold by this point. Like, really pretty uncomfortably cold. So I threw it in the big ring and decided to do a 9-minute cruise interval to warm up. At nine minutes, I still wasn’t super warm, so I decided to do another six minutes. And by the time I’d done that, I was just a half mile from 101. So whatever. The guys were very nice and appreciative of the effort — I learned what DFHT mean — as I beat them to 101 by about 3 or 4 minutes. But honestly, I was hammering in a downhill-to-flat stretch. It was fun to do a long interval like that, and to see a nice average speed from that section, but I know I couldn’t make a breakaway stick if I had nails and super glue.

I was also much warmer by the time I did it, and I pulled the rest of the way back. And once again, other than being really cold, I felt great on the bike. Very strong. It was an encouraging weekend of riding.

This season of short track mountain bike and cyclocross will be marked by much lower expectations for myself. I will train hard, and go in lighter and stronger than I have the previous two years. But I also know how stiff the competition is, and how many more miles many of them will have in their legs. 2012 will not be the year I cat up, but hopefully it will be a consistent year for finishes in the top third.

Anyhoo. A marvelous “training camp.” We talked about doing it again sometime, and I really hope we can make that a reality. My unofficial team is a ton of fun, and a great crew.

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.