For those of you, particularly the pale, John Meyers-esque white folks out there, C.R.E.A.M. is a song by the WuTang Clan, a hiphop/rap group. It's an acronym for "Cash Rules Everything Around Me" and I'm finding that to be truer and truer, each and every day.
Basically, I just dropped $150 to buy some new Look Keo Carbon pedals. Well, turns out my Speedplays weren't worn out; I just had a bum left cleat. So, I'm going to be selling the new ones, not even taking them out of the packaging. Given the prices I see on Ebay, I should be able to get all of the purchase price back. But, it's still a hassle.
And, I'm going to be saddled with a $400 debt when my new wheels come in, if they ever do. Oh, and I might switch from Chorus to Rival shifters/RD. Another ~300 bones.
This isn't the most exciting news for someone trying to save up money to afford his own place, pay auto insurance, car and student loans...
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Sunday, February 10, 2008
I'm ready to race...*
*Disclaimer: If, and only if those races include 10-20min long climbs. A good, solid 1min effort, on the other hand, will blow me out the back faster than Robbie McEwen on the Hautacam.
I've been doing lots of threshold work of late. To call it "block training" would be an understatement. I don't even mean to do it, to be honest.
The truth is that I get bored with going along at 200w for two hours on a "recovery" ride on my rollers. I do drills, particularly one legged pedalling, to smooth out the stroke and correct any imbalances I might have. I watch movies, and try to zone out. This generally fails.
Most of the time I start going harder, or begin an interval, because I fear that I'll be out of shape and utterly useless for the first two months of the season...like last year. Fear and anger being the two most powerful motivators I've seen among the bike racer dude crowd, I think this is acceptable. I dislike letting myself and others down. That part usually suffices to get me into good enough shape to say "Yeah, dude, I finished in the main group. Hard race, fo sho."
The anger part, however, is not properly cultivated whilst riding in one's garage. Anger is generally only found when another human being, usually in an automobile or on a bicycle, does something that makes you question your values, particularly those about the value of a person's life. I'm semi-serious about this, but even if it's only for a split second, I think most people, in the deep, dark recesses of their minds, push aside the morality that has been developed in the last, oh, couple of millenia. You're thrown back, just for that instant, to a time when your primeval murderous rage meant the difference between eating and being eaten.
Now that you're all creeped out thoroughly enough, I'll explain how this relates to bike racing. In four of my best five races of the 2007 campaign, I had moments where I was temporarily incessed to the point that had I been in possession of a frame pump, I would have not only seperated the offending rider from his bike using it, but hopped off my own and beat him into a coma, at the very least. Shortly thereafter, I unleashed an effort that would normally only be capable in the early stages of an outdoor training ride. A 1250+ jump up a hill (Brewers's Hill), a minute at 550+ on the last lap (crappy little Barrington race) or a seeminly suicidal 4.0w/kg for 2.5hr break (AV RR).
In short, anger and fear are good. One to get you in decent shape, the other to push your upper limits and test the waters of Race Results Lake. I've had the latter; just need some of the former.
Until next time,
Andy
I've been doing lots of threshold work of late. To call it "block training" would be an understatement. I don't even mean to do it, to be honest.
The truth is that I get bored with going along at 200w for two hours on a "recovery" ride on my rollers. I do drills, particularly one legged pedalling, to smooth out the stroke and correct any imbalances I might have. I watch movies, and try to zone out. This generally fails.
Most of the time I start going harder, or begin an interval, because I fear that I'll be out of shape and utterly useless for the first two months of the season...like last year. Fear and anger being the two most powerful motivators I've seen among the bike racer dude crowd, I think this is acceptable. I dislike letting myself and others down. That part usually suffices to get me into good enough shape to say "Yeah, dude, I finished in the main group. Hard race, fo sho."
The anger part, however, is not properly cultivated whilst riding in one's garage. Anger is generally only found when another human being, usually in an automobile or on a bicycle, does something that makes you question your values, particularly those about the value of a person's life. I'm semi-serious about this, but even if it's only for a split second, I think most people, in the deep, dark recesses of their minds, push aside the morality that has been developed in the last, oh, couple of millenia. You're thrown back, just for that instant, to a time when your primeval murderous rage meant the difference between eating and being eaten.
Now that you're all creeped out thoroughly enough, I'll explain how this relates to bike racing. In four of my best five races of the 2007 campaign, I had moments where I was temporarily incessed to the point that had I been in possession of a frame pump, I would have not only seperated the offending rider from his bike using it, but hopped off my own and beat him into a coma, at the very least. Shortly thereafter, I unleashed an effort that would normally only be capable in the early stages of an outdoor training ride. A 1250+ jump up a hill (Brewers's Hill), a minute at 550+ on the last lap (crappy little Barrington race) or a seeminly suicidal 4.0w/kg for 2.5hr break (AV RR).
In short, anger and fear are good. One to get you in decent shape, the other to push your upper limits and test the waters of Race Results Lake. I've had the latter; just need some of the former.
Until next time,
Andy
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Warm Weather
This "off season" thing is starting to wear on me.
As much fun as it is riding my dad's old rigid Diamondback MTB, it's getting a little old. And, while it's interesting to see how high my HR skyrockets during a 15min interval on the rollers, I'd rather not do that, either.
Quite frankly, I miss the feeling of the wind on my face. Not even a warm, summer wind. Just a non-bitter cold wind. Something that doesn't make snot freeze to your sleeves and gloves when you wipe your face. Doesn't turn your eyelashes into miniature icicles. I'd welcome a spring rain in 55 degree temperatures right now. I'd gladly slog into a storm like that, just for some variety.
This has been the most boring winter of my life. At least last winter I was able to check out hot chicks running around the track, watch high school track practice, or observe ultimate frisbee/cheerleading/dance/martial arts/juggling clubs in action. Now? I rent DVDs and watch them to entertain myself while I spin away mindlessly for 2hrs, each and every night. Or if I'm lucky, it's "warm" enough (15 degrees or more) to head out to the prairie path for easy and tempo rides. I have one (1) friend in town, really, and I only see his ass once or twice a week. And while I'm not the most outgoing person out there, I generally don't have a hard time making new friends. I simply haven't had the opportunity to make any. Both the weather and work have conspired to ruin me.
So, that said, I'm heading to Caribou to hit on the barista there. I'm going to look at bike shit under the guise of working on...work. Ironic, isn't it?
As much fun as it is riding my dad's old rigid Diamondback MTB, it's getting a little old. And, while it's interesting to see how high my HR skyrockets during a 15min interval on the rollers, I'd rather not do that, either.
Quite frankly, I miss the feeling of the wind on my face. Not even a warm, summer wind. Just a non-bitter cold wind. Something that doesn't make snot freeze to your sleeves and gloves when you wipe your face. Doesn't turn your eyelashes into miniature icicles. I'd welcome a spring rain in 55 degree temperatures right now. I'd gladly slog into a storm like that, just for some variety.
This has been the most boring winter of my life. At least last winter I was able to check out hot chicks running around the track, watch high school track practice, or observe ultimate frisbee/cheerleading/dance/martial arts/juggling clubs in action. Now? I rent DVDs and watch them to entertain myself while I spin away mindlessly for 2hrs, each and every night. Or if I'm lucky, it's "warm" enough (15 degrees or more) to head out to the prairie path for easy and tempo rides. I have one (1) friend in town, really, and I only see his ass once or twice a week. And while I'm not the most outgoing person out there, I generally don't have a hard time making new friends. I simply haven't had the opportunity to make any. Both the weather and work have conspired to ruin me.
So, that said, I'm heading to Caribou to hit on the barista there. I'm going to look at bike shit under the guise of working on...work. Ironic, isn't it?
Sunday, January 20, 2008
I doubt anyone will read this, but an FYI...
Just so no one gets the wrong idea, I'd like to clear up the title of my blog. "A Big Hard Sun" or "Hard Sun" is a song by Eddie Vedder (lead singer of Pearl Jam), originally composed and recorded by Indio in 1990. It's one of the many songs EV wrote and recorded for the movie "Into the Wild", which is in turn a movie adopted by Sean Penn from John Krakauer's book.
Quite frankly, the lyrics of the song, in addition to the tribal-yet-Rusted-Root-esque rhythm of the song itself, are captivating. They flow so well with the movie and the story being told; I can't really imagine the movie without the song, and vice versa.
Now, I'm not going to say that the movie was awesome. It was good. Could have been better. Too much desert imagery for me. Depressing. Penn could have done a better job encompassing the beauty of the American West as well; there are some shots out there, well within range of their production sites, that just can't be passed over, yet were.
Lyrics have a bit of meaning behind them too, so take a look:
When I walk beside her
I am the better man
when i look to leave her
I always stagger back again
Once I built an ivory tower
so I could worship from above
when I climb down to be set free
she took me in again
There’s a big
a big hard sun
beating on the big people
in the big hard world
When she comes to greet me
she is mercy at my feet
I see her inner charm
she just throws it back at me
Once I dug an early graveto find a better land
she just smiled and laughed at me
and took her rules back again
Once I stood to lose her
and I saw what i had done
bowed down and threw away the hours
of her garden and her sun
So I tried to want her
I turned to see her weep
40 days and 40 nights
and its still coming down on me.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=UDorNilxPUY
Quite frankly, the lyrics of the song, in addition to the tribal-yet-Rusted-Root-esque rhythm of the song itself, are captivating. They flow so well with the movie and the story being told; I can't really imagine the movie without the song, and vice versa.
Now, I'm not going to say that the movie was awesome. It was good. Could have been better. Too much desert imagery for me. Depressing. Penn could have done a better job encompassing the beauty of the American West as well; there are some shots out there, well within range of their production sites, that just can't be passed over, yet were.
Lyrics have a bit of meaning behind them too, so take a look:
When I walk beside her
I am the better man
when i look to leave her
I always stagger back again
Once I built an ivory tower
so I could worship from above
when I climb down to be set free
she took me in again
There’s a big
a big hard sun
beating on the big people
in the big hard world
When she comes to greet me
she is mercy at my feet
I see her inner charm
she just throws it back at me
Once I dug an early graveto find a better land
she just smiled and laughed at me
and took her rules back again
Once I stood to lose her
and I saw what i had done
bowed down and threw away the hours
of her garden and her sun
So I tried to want her
I turned to see her weep
40 days and 40 nights
and its still coming down on me.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=UDorNilxPUY
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