Training When it's Dark, Cold and Raining

Most days of the week I am blessed with the opportunity of getting out on my bike during the work day. Normally I get to ride during or right after what is most people's lunch. The nice thing about being an federal prosecutor is that you don't have clients and when you work with law enforcement they work 24/7 so you can reach most of them at any time of the day. That allows for some flexibility in life.

That being said, I still find myself in a courtroom brawl every now and again which stops me from getting out, like today. Mother Nature's persistent rain didn't ease the situation either today. These are the days that I end up on the trainer fighting against boredom and trying to ride hard enough and long enough that I can make it to the next day outside. I'm not sure what it is about the trainer that makes doing intervals so hard on my leg muscles. Maybe it's the artifical resistance or the slightly different position but I find my legs fatiguing a long time before my endurance systems do. It's like a weight workout built into a cardio workout.

Adam and I are working through the growing pains of a new job, a new schedule and a new training regime. It's a painful adjustment but one that is working out. Life is about making choices. I know a lot of people say that they don't have time for this or for that, but there is always time. It's a matter of prioritizing and making a decision to make certain things important to yourself and then having the support of those around you to carry it out.

When I took this new position it was about gaining trial experience and getting comfortable on my feet in court. Those two things have definitely happened, but on top of that I'm learning how to prioritize things in my life as well. It's a hyper-focus that I hope makes me a better bike racer. Or at the least, I hope it can be proof to others around me that you can work 12 hours a day and still be an elite athlete. All it takes is persistence and a lot of good coaching.

What do I do Now?

One race left on the calendar and then it's all over for the season. My legs are done in from 41 previous races but my heart still wants to race. There will be no cross racing for me this year because despite my heart's desires, my wallet says no. So what do I do next? Normally my season ends with a flourish, in the past it was normally Gateway Cup or another multi-day race. However, St. Louis was a little too far away this year for me to go, especially with a new job that hasn't been fully broken in yet.

It's also a little too early to start thinking about next year. Maybe just the most preliminary thoughts about what big races to think about. However, these preliminary thoughts will probably change about 50 times before next month. Maybe, now is just the time to reflect on a good season and goals accomplished? Heck, I've been an athlete too long to think that contentment is a good feeling when it comes to getting better. So I guess now is the time to think about what I can do better. . . what happened this year that worked and what didn't work. Also, maybe it's time to finally fix my time trial bike so that it actually works the way it is supposed to work.

Overcoming Panic

It's been a month and a half since starting my new/temporary job. It's been an up and down ride and the transition has been...a transition. This has been a pivotal weekend for me and it feels like I've left the Belgian pavee for a little bit of Mississippi chip and seal. It's a welcome sight and my body can feel a more comfortable ride ahead.


After a rocky start to being a Cat 2 at Millersburg, today's race at Jason Gundel was a marked improvement. It didn't start out that well for me, when on the third lap I found the only unmarked pothole on the road, hit it, and turned my handlebars 30 degrees down. This forced me up to the pit. But I got back in the race and finally found my legs again.


The hill on the backside of the course at Gundel was of the type that normally would make my day unpleasant; today that wasn't the case. My finish was nothing spectacular but it was a finish. After peaking no fewer than a million times this season, my training as of late has been a consistent and I've been able to put together decent miles over the last month.


However, for about a month I've been in a state of near panic, my nerves have been at their peak and I've been having trouble getting back into a comfortable schedule. However, late this week I came to an understanding with myself and my job. I realize the two can be reconciled, which is itself a relief. As my fellow bike racers can testify to, by this point in time we've all drank the Kool-Aid. We've made the decision to sacrifice other aspects of our lives for the sport.

Those that love and care for us understand this point. However, explaining these things to an employer is a different story. Suggestions on how to improve are always appreciated. My position has always been that personal lives and professional lives have to be balanced. My grandfather always said everything in moderation. I'm not one of those guys who will work 60 hours a week for the sake of working 60 hours a week. I'm also not one of those guys who will shut down his computer at 4:59 PM just because I don't want to be late for the metro. The same with bike racing and being with friends and family. There is a constant give and take but finding that balance is a tough thing, especially at the start of things. So here is to week two of finding balance.

My Story

In February of 2001 I raced my last 200 backstroke. That race ended nearly 20 years of competitive swimming. Following that meet I went through what could only be called a quarter life crisis. A huge part of my identity vanished and I struggled for a time to find something to replace that part of my life. I couldn't easily give up on being an athlete and my love of competition.


On a lark I went to a bike shop in Chicago and bought my first bike. As soon as I got it home I went for a 30 minute ride in my neighborhood in a worn out pair of shorts that I had used for weightlifting and a white t-shirt. By the end of that Summer I raced my first race, and crashed twice in a 10 lap crit. I joined the University of Kansas Cycling Team when I returned to school and made some of the best friends that I have kept to this day.


I went from a Cat 5 to a Cat 3 by May of the following year. Then inexplicably I left the sport. I started law school and somewhere on the journey from Kansas to Mississippi I allowed someone to surgically implant a giant pole into my body and lost my focus on those things that made me who I was. I flopped around in local races over but never made a commitment to racing like I had done while at KU. I graduated from law school and moved to DC where I continued to "kind of" race and "kind of" train. I had goals but no focus. I had dreams but no passion. I had ego but no commitment.

Then in April of 2008 the inexplicable happened again, I blew out a spoke on a brand new pair of wheels. Somehow this spoke represented a metaphysical snapping within me. I opened up the brakes on my rear wheel to keep it from rubbing too badly and rode McArthur back into DC. Along the way I opened up myself too and spent a long time thinking about who I am and what I was doing in my life. I made a real simple decision, rather than just fix the spoke I was going to buy a whole new wheel set, I was going to buy a PowerTap.


I called up one of my best friends from KU, Adam Mills, who in the time since I had left school had become a cycling coach and one of the best bike racers in the Midwest. I told him that I was tired of it all and that I wanted to do something other than just finish Cat 3/4 races (actually I had been dropped from a PA race two weeks prior). I told him that I was buying a PowerTap and that I wanted to start training like I had when I was swimming. He warned me that it wouldn't be easy. In typical fashion I responded "I ain't scared."


I went down to a trusted bike shop and met with a very trusted friend, we shall call him Mr. Jones. I told him what I wanted to do and what I wanted to buy. He obliged and a week later I got a call that my brand new Mavic Open Pro's were in and ready for me. As fate would have it, I was getting ready to head out for work to Colorado and to LA. I packed up the bike and flew out to the mountains. It wasn't until I got to LA that I realized what was happening. In the middle of a ride out in Riverside, CA (which is nowhere near LA contrary to what I had been told) while going up a hillside I made a promise to myself that I had a goal and that I was going to achieve that goal. I was going to dedicate myself to training and racing and I was going to move up from Cat 3.


Adam and I spent the Summer pushing my limits on the bike. I followed Adam to a new coaching organization, Source Endurance out of Austin, TX, and made contact with some incredibly skilled and talented people. The folks at Source-E have opened my eyes to the fundamentals of the sport that I had overlooked or misunderstood, like nutrition. For those who think that good coaching doesn't pay off, well I hope that my example will show forth that it really does. Adam punished my legs daily with workouts that I often cursed him for but it began to pay off. I won my first ever race and a couple weeks ago I achieved my goal of upgrading.


It's been a tale of suffering but it's all been worth it. It was a goal that at times seemed inevitable and impossible. The statistics on what it took to get me to this goal aren't anything out of the ordinary. However, these are some of the odder statistics that I compiled along the way in the past 15 months since I set out on this quest:


1. Number of Miles Ridden in Training: 10086 this doesn't include races or the months of January and July 2009 when I sent my PowerTap back for re-calibration (Saris Cycling is a great company and I have tremendous respect for them and their product).


2. States that I have raced or trained in (including DC): 15: DC, VA, MD, SC, KY, IL, KS, CA, CO, AZ, WA, MO, OK, IN, WV.

3. Number of bike chains: 4


4. Avg. Calories Consumed per day: 3200


5. Mountains Climbed: Sugarloaf (MD), Mt. Weather (VA), Blue Mountain (VA), Naked Mountain (VA), Mt. Tam (CA), Cougar Mountain (WA), Random 6 mile 2000 foot climb outside of Eureka (CA), Mt. Mingus (AZ), Mt. Oread (KS)[ok, I cheated on this one].


6. Number of bike tires used: 3 sets


7. Number of crashes on training rides: 1


8. Number of times I fell off the bike while racing 3 cross races: 4, once into a brier patch


9. Most listened to song on my IPhone: Miranda Lambert, Gun Powder and Lead (I swear I put the thing on shuffle).

10. Number of curse words used in a single race: 1058, and all used while chasing down a breakaway at the Low Country Challenge Stage Race.


The act of purchasing a PowerTap wasn't the impetus of anything but rather the first step in making myself accountable, accountable to ultimately myself. There is no hiding when you use wattage, either you're pushing 300 watts or you're not. The data allowed me to mark and track changes and progress in a way that I couldn't do before, and it gave me many many many reality checks. More so, my coach Adam was my reality check. A steadfast critique of bike racing and tactics and a genius for understanding the minutia of training. I could not have done this without his guidance.

Along this path I relied heavily on the kindness of strangers, friends and family. My teammates were a constant source of strength and advice. My family was a rock of support and I found the most beautiful woman in the world who helped me along with gentle nudges and swift kicks. I'm confident that she doesn't understand this obsession of ours to deliver so much pain to our bodies, but she understands what it means to me and supports me throughout with unwavering strength. This has bolstered me throughout and has gotten me over the crest of numerous hills, both physical and metaphysical. For me that's all I need.

If Wishing Only Made it So

I spent last week in Charleston, SC, prepping witnesses and handling depositions (the picture is me across the way from Fort Sumter saluting my Union ancestors). After a week of that I thought I'd head on down the road to Beaufort and race a little bit in the Low Country. The Low Country Challenge is a stage race with three stages over two days and a total altitude change of 5 feet. Maybe I'm exaggerating a bit, but it was flat and fast. I ended up 13th in GC and that's the end of that story. The Low Country boys can flat out ride fast in a straight line. They can't turn their bikes to save their lives. However, when you can jump like a gazelle you don't have to turn to well, unless you are being chased by a cheetah.

This weekend I felt more like a lone wolf. Someone would jump and I would accelerate and pull them back with determination and will. The spark wasn't there but the ability to turn myself inside out was. In the road race on Sunday I found myself in a group of about 20 guys that had left the rest of the field behind. A split formed in that group and I was behind the leading 7 or 8. Along with the help of a couple other guys I pulled it all back together. I tried to jump to the break but didn't have the power to make an instant gap so I had to do it the old fashioned way.

The break was pulled back but 10 seconds later 5 guys were up the road. The break was comprised of a lot of the horsepower left in the field and the big teams were represented. I knew I had to put myself there or else the race was over for me. I jumped across, got clear, joined a guy in nomansland and dropped him. The break had 5 seconds on me for about half a mile. I was riding consistently at more than 100-150 watts above my lactate threshold. I felt the fibers of my muslces shredding. I put my head down and prayed for any draft, just an ounce, just something to close those five seconds. Then it happened and I was on.

We spent the next 15 minutes rotating and after all that effort we were caught by the remaining 9 guys in the field. We rode the rest of the race almost in neutral but I was done. A Kansan told me that you can push your body beyond the point where almost anyone else would stop. He said that you can literally turn yourself inside out and then right back again. I'm not saying I rode harder than anyone else or that I achieved something superhuman. All I'm saying is that on Sunday I redefined what pain means to me. And now I'm stronger for it.

Only the Strong Survive: Tulsa Tough

KC's Justin hit the nail right on the head when he described the deceptively friendly panda logo of this year's edition of Tulsa Tough:

"I think the Panda in the logo for the hospital and race is a perfect mascot for this 3 day race series. The image of a Panda lulls you into a false sense of security and then once you approach it it grapples your head and sinks its incisors deep into your jugular and rips your throat open, leaving you for dead."

For more you can always visit Justin's blog. Tulsa Tough is 3 days of crit racing in Oklahoma that become more and more deadly to its racers. At first it's just the heat, then it's the 125-guy fields, then it's the insane speeds that you average (all above 26 mph which includes several less than friendly hills) and topped off by the dumbest hardest river bluff climb (complete with kegs and oddly dressed spectators with flags and baby dolls).

On both Friday and Saturday I finished in the top 25, despite the valiant efforts of other bike racers to thwart my endeavors by throwing their bikes on the ground in front of me. There was an amazing number of guys in all the races who took insane risks but ran out of talent halfway through and ended up wrecking. Sunday was a mess and I ended up cracking on the hill with about 12 laps to go.

Over all it was a great experience, but still a little disheartening in the results. Saturday was definitely my day but I got a little boxed in, in the final sprint and had to sit down and then reaccelerate. I made several moves over several days but I'm not strong enough to hold off 100 other guys. The Stars and Bars did get called out at the line on two occassions. On top of the announcer being confused by the presence of a DCer, Venerable NCVC alum Scott Delaune was at the race on Friday and gave a shout out followed by numerous laps of heckling and calls for me to push the speed past ludicrous to plaid.

As the first of my focus events of the year, I have to say I am pretty psyched and that it bodes well for this weekend's Low Country Challenge in South Carolina. I've got the power courtesy of coach Adam Mills, now I just gotta get the big ring on.

Sprinters Beware...

...RFK is the last of the bone-flat untechnical crit/circuit races of the year. Well, at least the last one that I'm signed up for in MABRA. From this point on out the road turns uphill and me and my lightweight cohorts are getting ready to throw down.

I won't retell too much of the story of RFK just to say that I tried to break it up. If I read my power data right, I threw myself off the front no fewer than 3 times. In the end an 11th place in a field sprint that was as organized as a Walmart opening on Black Friday.

Again, Amy Jones was there to capture a couple images. Thank heavens we not only have talented bike racers in MABRA, but also really good photographers and Joe Jefferson calling the races too. Notice the pain being displayed and the almost emotionless-where-are-the-white-elephants look on my face. Plus the uber cool argyle socks that I'm rocking.

I'm out in Kansas again chasing some leads and getting ready for a weekend of hardcore racing at Tulsa Tough. I've heard a lot about these races and cannot wait to see the best of Oklahoma, Texas and Kansas-- I ain't scared. This marks the beginning of a journey that has me racing 18 races in a row outside of MABRA in the next two months before returning for Coppi.