How well do ErgVideo 12-week plans work??

I just got this in from a client who purchased one of my semi-custom 12-week plans. It left me feeling like a million bucks, and grateful that I could help this person achieve some of his goals this winter. Maybe I can build something similar for you?

Torturer, master of pain. I must say that for the past couple of weeks my legs feel as if I were able to fly, just as you said. I sat in the saddle for the entire miserable map workout, small ring, and felt fine. I did the 37 minute hill thing, aslo in the small ring, sitting. Better RPM than the big ring, and I’m a spinner-at least I was. No way I could do that last month. I rode outdoors the past three weekends and merged into the fast bumpy training ride. The hard part is only 25 miles, but race pace, aggressive, and fun. I had no problem whatsoever. Impressive. First time in two years that it felt good and fun. And I’m still a blimp. But a stronger one. People were asking what drugs I was on. I guess I made it look easy, like the old days. I used a powertap to see what types of wattage I had to generate to keep up on two specific hills. The first is a power hill. You stand and crunch it, stay very tight to the group, and press on as soon as it’s crested. It’s just a bump, but a bump where many get dropped. The second is called the double whammy. It rises, levels a bit and rises again  But you feel it at that stage of the ride. Not steep 3-4%.  Get into trouble there and you don’t catch up.I took a look and sitting in a 53-19 I was at 415 watts the entire time.

So, seems as if I would be racing if I had my weight down 40 pounds. Certainly the training ride is as easy (for me) as it ever has been. I normmally did it after the race. Even then, I still feel better now, and the indoor workouts tell me I am stronger. I was too tired last week to do the threshold test; made more sense to do the other workouts that week. Not sure that I increased the threshold, but I am sure that it’s gonna feel easier to maintain a hard effort.

Next two weeks you have me going 5 days during the week. Ouch. I wanted to thank you, as I got exactly what I wanted. Fun workouts to get me back to keeping up, at least. How would I proceed after the last week is done? I am interested in getting another series of workouts, this time designed to maintain and improve upon what I’ve done, maybe 3-4 days a week rather than always 4. I know I could do this myself, but I would not arrange the proper mix of races, intervals, recovery. So, what would you suggest? I’d want to maximize the use of the videos that I have too.

Thanks Torturer,

Ron

Ron – you bet. We’ll talk next week, take a look at some upcoming events, set goals for your absolute and relative power, and send you further on your way. I set up the ladder – you’re the one that climbed it!

Chapeau!

You want to go WHERE on a bike?

Check this out…

http://blogs.dallasobserver.com/unfairpark/2009/03/how_to_cycle_in_dallas_without.php#comments

More on these videos later, but suffice it to say that Dallas IS a good place to ride a bike, just about anywhere. However, cyclist education is critical.

Liars, Cheaters, and Thieves. People You Know?

Those of you wanting updates on Mondays, I’m sorry – it usually takes me a day to unwind, focus on work and clients, and then compile my thoughts so I can put them to key. You’ll just have to be patient, and expect updates on Tuesadays.

This sport. This sport is so unforgiving. So vexing. So exciting for those who participate in it, but so, so elusive. It’s been 48 hours now, and I’m still having severe mixed feelings about the Fayetteville Stage Race. On the one hand, I rode probably my best TT on my current configuration for the P3 yet, and I’m feeling pretty good about my prospects on that bike and kit for the upcoming months. On the other hand… Well, let’s get in to that later.

I’ll preface this with the caveat that I do have faith in TXBRA, in the promoters, in the officials, and in most of my fellow competitors, but something has to change, or else I’ll end up back in the rallies forever, and not a single promoter will receive a further dime of my money.

I drove down to the Fayetteville Stage Race on Friday with a junior, Nick, who was on Spring Break. We took back roads down to LaGrange, then over to Fayetteville, which has a population of about 300. The race is held at the height of BlueBonnet season, and the fields are peppered with blue, red, and yellow flowers, along with the traditional green. So it’s a pretty scenic image. The roads are fairly smooth, but narrow, and there are enough rolling hills and twists and turns that you can’t see too far ahead. There must have been 400 racers there, as most of the fields were filled up to capacity, and the junior and women fields were larger than anyone had seen in a long, long time.

I knew my competition pretty well, but also knew that I was going to be riding with at least two teammates from Mirage – Jason and Darwin. I’d never ridden with Darwin before, but Jason and I had ridden together and had come to good terms on each others’ talents and contributions. The Cat 3’s was a large field, however. 83 pre registered cyclists, and at least 76 showed up at the starting line on Saturday.

The race start was almost eerie. Overnight, a lack of a breeze set  up conditions for a thick fog, which did not honestly lift until about 3/4 of the race was over. The Cat 3’s were some of the first off, and we rolled out in conditions that were damp, with a layer of what I can only compare to light grease out on the roads. You could feel your tires slipping, especially in the corners. Visibility was about 200′ at the most, and almost immediately everyone removed their glasses and rode on eyeballs only, since the moisture was collecting on the inside and outside of the lenses.

Within minutes, I found myself at or near the front, along with the usual suspects, as we attempted to drive the pace and at least make a race of it. But nothing seemed to work. The course was slick, the visibility poor, and as others have heard me mention in years past (and this was one reason  why I made active choices NOT to race this event for five years), everyone was ‘playing defense’, since there were two more races in to compete. I tried in vain to get a break to work, but it seemed destined for another sprint finish. The only redeeming value was that this race finish was going to be held at the top of a 500m hill, at roughly 2% grade.

The dew and fog played havoc on my powermeter, and later discussions with other quarq owners revealed that they had the same problems. I rack it up to a rare series of environmental events, but I’m still going to return it for a seal fix. Luckily, I still have that extra one that I wanted to sell, but will now use. Still, I have no data to show for it, except for the TT, where I used the Ergomo.

But back to Race 1.

I raced. There were mostly the same suspects up front. We couldn’t really get a break going, either because of the terrain, or the fog, or the slickness of the roads, or whatever. But I vocalized my concerns about the back side of the race course with some of the leaders, and we all agreed that the moisture was enough to cause havoc if a wrong move were performed. There were some crashes on the last lap, but thankfully, everyone got back on and finished. But here’s the bugger, and thus the title of this theme.

The finish was the worst finish I’ve seen yet in my years of racing. There were no crashes, but at the 1K mark, I was in 3rd position, behind a Moritz rider, and David Ortega, an improving Cat 3. We were hauling, and the finish was actually more to my liking – a 500m gentle climb at <2%, but just enough to take an edge off. Or so I suspected. At 500m, we were accelerating, and things were looking really, really good. But at 400m, I began to see motion TO MY LEFT. At 300m, I was being passed by other riders ON MY LEFT. At 250m, I continued to be passed by riders ON MY LEFT!!! By 200m, I had gone from 3rd place, to about 18th. I sprinted as far and as hard as I could, and made up some positions, finishing 16th I think, but the damage had been done. Over a dozen riders had violated the Yellow Line Rule, and had PASSED ME ON MY LEFT to STEAL my finish. I still may not have won, but I was in the PRIME spot for the sprint, and I WAS ROBBED. I was even robbed by two of my own freaking teammates, both of whom later admitted to me that they had ‘followed everyone else’, and gone left at 400m, just as the slope of the hill was changing. The CHEATERS took my position, and the position of several other riders in the pack, and earned very high GC placings as a result.

Needless to say, I was livid. I filed an immediate protest, at the finish line, and again to every other official who would listen, and then went back to the staging area, to write a formal complaint. But I knew that, because of the way that the Officials’ system works, if there wasn’t someone actually watching the 200m mark, and recording numbers, or if there wasn’t a camera at that location, then nothing would be done about it. I called one guy out (turned out that he was the guy who actually won the GC the next day), and we almost got in to fisticuffs.

I will say this from the deepest part of my soul. I HATE CHEATERS. I never cheated in High School, I never cheated in College, and the ONE TIME I tried to cheat by popping ephedrine before a mountain bike race in the 90’s, I cramped up so bad that I finished 3rd from last, and learned my lesson. YOU DON’T CHEAT. But you know, it seems like cheaters get rewarded. They get to remain anonymous, or they get to argue their innocence, and bluster their way out of a penalty, and get indignant when they are accused. But for those of you who read this, and I hope you do, if you cheated, I hope your conscience eats at you and rips your soul to shreds.

My two teammates, who did VERY little the entire race, and sat on the back, eating cheeseburgers and drinking milkshakes, took 3rd and 4th, or something like that, got upgrade points, and a high placing in the GC… and later admitted that they, too, MAY have been guilty of crossing the yellow line at the 400 or 300m mark.  THE YELLOW LINE IS THE EDGE OF THE FUCKING PLANET, GOT IT? YOU VIOLATE THAT LINE, YOU ARE RELEGATED OR DQ’D. YOU TWELVE OR MORE PEOPLE MAY HAVE WON AND FINISHED AHEAD OF ME, BUT YOU ARE LOSERS in my eyes. You’re cheaters, liars, and thieves. Not  one single individual stepped up and admitted that they’d violated the yellow line. As a result, they were rewarded. NUT UP and admit that you F’ed up, and take your relegation. To not do so is complete cowardice.

I’m also furious with the way the officials handled it. They took a very blase attitude, sort of a hands-off, “nothing-we-can-do-about-it-now” approach, all but one official. Andy Hollinger is the engine that created a viable racing scene in Texas. He IS TXBRA in many ways. He’s not without his faults, but no one cares more about good, strong, healthy, fair competitions than him. He consoled and counseled me for well over an hour, well in to the afternoon, and later said he would do what he could to actually become the Cat 3 official, and observe or correct the violations of the Yellow Line Rule. He even demanded that the officials put an observer at the 200m mark, looking DOWN the course, so that violators of the yellow line rule could be caught. If there is anyone in TXBRA’s infrastructure who has more character and honesty, I don’t know him or her, except maybe Bonnie. Hollinger deserves his spot on the board of USAC, and deserves it back on TXBRA. I intend to lead that charge.

This was the only thing that kept me from packing up and leaving early. Nick also felt cheated out of a higher placing, since his race was dominated by several TBI juniors, who let one rider go off the front, and then corked the race in the narrow roads, and wouldn’t let anyone pass. I felt for him, but what happened to him was legal in the sense of the rules, so it wasn’t anything we could complain about to the officials. We eventually returned to the hotel, ate a small lunch, napped, and then drove back to the course for the evening TT.

I got a good warmup, had a few problems with my chain that were eventually resolved, and then went to the starting line. I knew from previous years at this event that I’d ridden a crappy time, but I knew what my average power output was, and what my Normalized Power needed to be for a strong effort. I calculated my 17 and 16 minute Pnorm MMP’s, adjusted for TT position, decided where I needed to be on every hill, and launched in to the Time Trial, trying to channel all that anger and hatred into my pedals.

It worked.

I passed my 30 second man, my 60 second man, and my 90 second man, and rolled across the finish line in a 15:37, averaging 291w, and achieving a PNorm of 333. I was ECSTATIC. I knew I had lost a few seconds on each of the turns (my elbows are within a fraction of an inch of my knees, and I have to be REALLY careful that I don’t pull a Zabriskie and knock my steering out of kilter), but I largely was able to push like a demon on the rolling course, pursuing watts wherever I could find them. It got me 15th, just 50 seconds out of first place in the GC. There was no disappointment – I knew I had done almost the best job possible. It felt good, not just because of the result, but because I was in control of my fate. There were no yellow line rules to violate. I just pedaled and rode. No saddle issues, no forearm issues. I hope I can get a photo of my position, because I felt pretty aero. Unfortunately, looking through the images that have been posted at this time, I can’t seem to find myself in them. Otherwise, I’d post them for you. The results didn’t do too much for me in the GC, however, moving me from 18th to like 14th or 15th. I would have to try my luck with a breakaway, and maybe go for the hotspot and earn some bonus seconds there.

Nick had a good time as well, and we went back to the hotel with sandwiches from Subway, and ended up watching back-to-back TBS films, “Dodgeball”, and “The Girl Next Door”. Earlier, I’d tried to interest Nick in both “Blazing Saddles”, and “Spinal Tap”, neither of which he got. Blame it on the generation gap. I’m getting old!

Sunday morning was another early start for me, so I got us up, only to find that the Continental breakfast that we’d been promised was nowhere to be seen, so we drove around until we found a Whataburger and I got some greasy breakfast burrito and some OJ and coffee. Remind me not to do that again. I had Nick drop me off and then head back to the hotel, so he could get some more rest, and I warmed up right next to the starting line. Both Jason and Darwin came up, and we spoke, but once again, the day was pretty foggy, and I was concerned about the road. I also swore that I’d bank my efforts, and not do ANYTHING the first lap, at least, maybe even the second lap.

Well, it worked out pretty well, but when I went to the front on the second lap, I ended up getting in to the same old routine of doing a ton of the work. My pulls were long and strong, and at the end of Lap 3, I ended up rolling off the front for a solo move that lasted maybe 2 miles. I was joined by about 3 other cyclists eventually, and for maybe 3 or 4 more miles, we made about 30-45 seconds on the pack. But we were caught after the Hot Spot hill, and resumed large pack racing. I went back to the front, took some strong, hard pulls, tried to string out the race, tried to get a break going, but only succeeded in launching a solo rider off the front, a Moritz rider, who eventually won the race. His team worked perfectly – blocking, covering moves, and when it looked like we might finally catch him in the last 4k or so, one rider, a teammate of his, attacked on the grass of the shoulder, went to the front, and actually bridged to him. Again, I was not in a position where I could actually do something about it, and honestly, I was feeling a little jilted, since I had done a ton of work, only to have someone else benefit from it, and I wanted some other team to step up.

The two riders went on to finish 1-2. They deserved it. They earned it. As a coach, it was a beautiful thing to witness. It made me proud. It made me envious.

At the 1k mark, we all knew what was going to happen. It would be a sprint finish. A dash for the line, and a desperate effort to earn placings in the race, as well as the GC. This time, there would be no 200m violation. But once again, fate completely intervened and ruined an otherwise better day.

At about the 250m mark, I was still in a good position, maybe 5th or 6th wheel, as we climbed up to the finish, and one of the two women riders was on my left. It was the craziest thing. One of her own teammates barreled in to her on the 5 o’clock position, rubbing her wheel, before losing control of his bike and careening in to me. His shoulder smacked my hip, and as I could see it coming out of the corner of my eye, but I couldn’t really accelerate just yet, I sort of hip-checked him so I could stay upright. Almost instantly there was the sound of grating metal, breaking carbon, colorful metaphors, and bone hitting ground. The girl stayed upright, I stayed upright, and we were doing our best to accelerate OUT of there, when another cyclist, on my right at 1 o’clock, looked left to view the carnage or something, and drifted left, right in to me. We both stayed upright, but our ensuing handlebar lock left us both robbed of momentum, and once again, a large number of cyclists who had been in the back, and had dodged the yard sale that was the crashed, accelerated by me, and got higher finishes. The two teammates, who HAD shown their faces more in this race, albeit up front early, not later, when I was the highest GC placing in the club, sped past me and earned Top 10’s again. I was able to finish ahead of some riders who had gone too early, but I once again finished 12th, and got 16th on the GC.

The body count was far too high to count. Busted wheels. Broken bikes. Shattered helmets. One kid got a chainring in his tricep, and there was meat coming out of the gaps between the flesh. Eyebrows bruised, everything. I counted myself lucky to have dodged the crash, and the girl asked me profusely to please tell her that she hadn’t been responsible for the crash. I said “No way”, and explained to her what happened – that it was someone behind her who had rolled in to her from the right, so no, it was NOT her fault. She was in the lead, and she held the high ground. Everyone was too pained and disorganized to actually get in to a fight, but later discussions revealed that there were several people who felt they’d been given the wrong time, that they’d been given the wrong placing, etc. I was happy that it had finished better for me, but still disgusted that people who had contributed nothing to the race, had gone on to take higher positions.

You’ll say, “Well, that’s racing.” NO, it’s not. Racing is pushing the pace, trying to drop less fit cyclists. Racing is launching attacks as a team, to try and force a break. Racing is pacelining (there was VERY little of that going on). Racing is sending riders up the road and then blocking. Racing is creating a leadout for your marked man at the sprint finish that is SO FAST that no one can come around. RACING is NOT CHEATING. If you cheat in a bike race, you are STEALING. If you deny it, then you are an EXPLICIT LIAR. If you don’t deny it, but accept the results with a smirk and a shrug, YOU ARE AN IMPLICIT LIAR.

Liars suck. Cheaters suck. Thieves suck. They all showed up at this race.

Okay – I’m spent. I can’t think of much else. I should have dedicated some time to a female client who was racing, but I need to create a whole other post for that. She rode well, but she has a block that we need to overcome. The coach in me will help her. The athlete will once again slide back into the shadows, and wait.

Thanks for reading.

Lago Vista Day 1 Race Review

Whareagle leading the pack with Ian on the right.

I know, I know, I need to be more prescient in getting these posted, but honestly, I was chatting with my minister in Montana recently, and we both came to the realization that I’m not 24 any more, I don’t recover as quickly, and I’m fatigued from travel and eye stress with every 3 hour journey in any direction. This has me rethinking yet again my road trip to Far West Texas, and maybe getting a driving partner. Geez, aging sucks.

Still, I’m pretty proud of my fitness and the fitness of my clients in Texas, as they proceed through another long season of racing. Performance is up, and while we’ve hit no podiums, we’re definitely knocking on the door.

I resolved on Friday to get out of town that much earlier, so I could beat the traffic on I-35, and then get to the rental early enough to rest up. This time, I was successful, and had time to get to the H.E.B. close to Lago Vista, and stock up on food and drink. Lago Vista is a nice community, but it’s still a little remote, so you have to come a little prepared.

Ben and Katy showed up a few hours later, and we each got 1 lap in around the course, in the setting sun of a warm and calm evening. The night was punctuated by boatloads of laughing as we hit a stretch of movies on either TNT or TBS. Katy cooked spaghetti, which was delicious, and we drank some beers and went to bed.

I woke up early to the sound of wind whipping around the corner of the condo. It never abated the entire day. As the Norther blew through, gusts picked up to 40mph, and temps dropped to the 20’s for the early riders. I was lucky enough to ride at 12:40, but it still made for tons of interesting moments throughout the event.

Despite the good night’s rest, neither of my roommates were satisfied with their performances, so I really wanted to make sure that I used the extra time to my advantage. I napped, ate two meals, and started a solid warmup about an hour beforehand.

People often ask me what the proper procedure is for a good warmup. There is nosurefire answer, but one of my favorite journals, Peak Performance, out of the UK, gave a pretty good quasi-scientific answer that basically implied that you’re trying to warm up the body, enable some vasodilation of the blood vessels, get rid of some pre-race anxiety, and raise the heart rate somewhat, so that those early accelerations or attacks don’t come as a shock. Last weekend, at Pace Bend, I remember not getting an adequate warmup, and after the first major hill, I was breathing about as loud as a diesel truck climbing a pass in Colorado. Another rule of thumb is that the longer the race, the shorter the warm up needs to be, since most everyone uses the first kilometers as a warmup or neutral. Unfortunately, Texas racing doesn’t really afford us that luxury. My own routine this weekend went like this:

I hopped on a mag trainer that I borrowed from Ben and Katy, warmed up gently for about 10 minutes at 150w (estimated FT is about 300w), got my HR up a bit (yes, it’s still useful), and then, every 5 minutes or so, I jumped up to a 400w run, getting my HR up to about threshold equivalent (175-180), and then backed off, settling in at around 200w. I kept this up, continuing to drink a sports drink (EFS), and consuming a bar to keep my calories topped off. I hopped off the bike and went to staging with less than 15 minutes to go, and was warm and ready when the race began.

Did it work? Well, I think so. The first lap started hot, and sure enough, instead of being gassed, I was able to respond, and even work my way through the field. The real racing started on the second lap, and yep, you guessed it, I was there, engaging in the action.

The course for Lago Vista consists of two variations on the same theme. Saturday’s course is 5 miles long, with what could be considered an 8 minute climb, over 10 laps, or 50 miles. There is a phenomenal descent with two sketchy ‘whooptydoos’, where you can hit 55mph, and carry your speed over the next hill. At the final 250m, you crest a hill to see a 300-year old Oak tree splitting a road, and that acts as the de facto 200m mark. The final 50m occurs on a rolling climb of 8+%, with the start/finish almost at the apex.

I love the hill. I HATE the finish.

Starting around Lap 2, the attacks and real racing began, and I did more than my fair share of solid Zone 5 pulls. I left room for riders to draft, but not enough that you could squeeze more than 3 people in my wake. We quickly shelled the heavier riders, and winnowed the field down to less than 40. Every attack, I responded, bridged, and then kept the pace high enough that another one couldn’t easily come around. One lap, Robert Snedden, my teammate, came around to start a break, and I did my part to block or avoid pulling. We were riding strong together, communicating well, and even Ian Sewalt, a client of sorts as well, was doing some great work. San Jose’s 4 riders did their thing to block and attack, and in the beginning, there were several good attacks by some Moritz riders. I have a ton of respect for those teams. They have enough people of the same capability that they can launch, and then get two or three guys to the front of a narrow road, and block. Robert and I just can’t do that. We need a third or fourth teammate. Still, we worked well together last week, and did more of the same this week, both days. Sure, there were some leaders in the race, and some serious glommers-on, but overall, we kept the pace high, I pulled like a draft horse on crack, and I really began to feel like I was on my game very early on, despite the windy and cold conditions.

A few anecdotes…

I’m really feeling dialed in to this bike right now. From stem height to crank length to wheel and tire selection, and handlebar, I feel like it’s an extension of myself. I can corner like nobody’s business, and the bike seems to be able to tell me when I’m just on the edge of losing control. I do have the odd tendency to sort of donkey-kick the rear wheel if there’s a stutter bump or if I hit a pothole in a corner, but the riders behind me have usually laughed it off as “Wharton, you’re too damned skinny!” Still, I hope I am never responsible for hurting someone else. I’ll keep working on it.

But this is where I was going with this. Saturday was windy, with gusts coming from the North at up to 40mph. It was cold, blustery (not consistent), and we were all forced to use lower-profile rims than are usually used on modern racing machines. On a deep-rimmed wheel, you can get a ‘push’ that can stall the wheel and force you to crash, just like that trispoke did to me a couple of weeks back when I was training on my TT rig. So I was specifically using low-profile rims, and relying on my bare bones body to avoid the wind. About midway through the race, however, I was tucked in tight, alert, and was making the corner of the transition to the steepest of the ‘whooptydoos’, when a MONSTER gush of wind pushed me from about 10cm from the edge of the right side of the road, all the way over to about 2m to the LEFT of the yellow line. It felt like this big, giant hand just picked me up and pushed me over. The marshall saw the entire thing – I was aiming right for him – and he said it happened to someone else behind me as well. Fortunately, there were no cars or deer in the way, but for about 3 seconds, I saw the white eyes of the marshall, as he scrambled out of the way, and I kept trying to turn maybe 2cm to the right, but the bike just wouldn’t go there! Any further and I would have turned too much and overdone the steer. Tilting would’ve meant certain skin on pavement at 80kph, because I would’ve lost traction. And I sure as heck couldn’t brake, for fear of completely losing traction. Then, just as sure as it began, I moved out of the way of the gust, got my headwind back, and merged back in with the pack. It was awesome. It was right on the edge of death – and for another moment, I felt more alive than ever.

My biggest problem with the racing this weekend is a result of my biggest elation – I’m riding stronger than ever, I’m riding harder than ever, and I’ve improved my speed, strength, and stamina – three of the four “S’s” that make for a more complete athlete. But my Skill – specifically, my skill at tying up the race with a pretty little bow on it and achieving the extrinsic result that I so yearn for, just continues to elude me. On the final lap, I sort of unintentionally launched a 16-year old client in to a solo attack, and he held on to take 2nd in his first race as a ‘3′. I’m pretty proud of that. The next day, he himself gave me a shove that helped push me back to the front for some more hard work. But in this race, after we’d shelled a huge number of riders, we still ended up in a pack finish, and it got really risky inside the 200m mark, and sure enough, I got caught behind some riders going backwards on the last 50m of the hill, and came up just outside the money, in 11th place.

I have to remember, I have to remember, I have to remember – take the intrinsic rewards, not the extrinsic placing or medals or cash, and remember that you control what you can control. If I’d taken some more risks, perhaps I would have been able to better control the outcome. Next time – I’ll go at 400m, get a prime spot, recover on the flat after the final roller, and then sprint in the right gear for the top of that cursed 8% hill —- and determine my own outcome.

Day 2 tomorrow – thanks for reading.