Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Gear Girls

   I’ve always said to my wife that I enjoy riding with her more than when I go out by myself, not only because of the social factor, but also because when riding alone, I tend to bury myself, going as hard as possible. Just backing off a little while riding at Sue’s pace is far less fatiguing, and now that her cycling has improved so much, I usually get a decent workout. She used to always thank me for riding with her, and I would explain that I want to ride with her, and that if I felt the need to ride more afterward, I would. Lately I haven’t found the extra work necessary - I’m putting in the miles, but not burning myself out.
   At the end of September Sue and I are participating in the MS150 City to Shore ride. While I have done a similar distance in the past to benefit the American Cancer Society, the farthest Sue had ever ridden was 45 miles in the loop we often travel into Philadelphia and back. On Saturday we had a training ride with the rest of our “team”, my sister-in-law Sandy and her husband Todd, on the relatively flat roads through central Delaware and Maryland’s Eastern Shore.
   We pedaled a metric century, 100 kilometers or about 63 miles, in a nicely organized event put on by the White Clay Bicycle Club. I was wondering how the women were going to handle it, since they don’t regularly cover the distances or ride at the pace to which Todd and I are accustomed. From having her draft behind me often during rides together, I knew Sue could hold a wheel, but for how long? Sandy rides fairly frequently, but admits that she is a bit intimidated sharing the road with automobiles and prefers the safety of spin classes. I didn’t know if she was going to be comfortable for such a long time in a group of cyclists riding in a paceline.
   As we unloaded our bikes at Middletown High School, I was thinking we were going to do a casual tour of the countryside, and boy, was I wrong. Aided by a couple of short rest stops along the way, we averaged about 17.5 mph for the whole ride! Todd was leading our group most of the time, mainly because he had the route set up in his bike’s navigation system, and it was easier than messing around with the cue sheet. I don’t know if this made him overly confident about where he was headed, but he may have started out a little harder than anyone expected. After about a half an hour on the road we were doing about 19 mph, and from behind me I heard Sue say softly, “I don’t think I’ll be able to hold this pace the whole way.”
   We backed off the speed, taking some spots a bit more slowly, probably due to the abundance of intersections and turns early in the route. Eventually we hit our stride at a comfortable pace for all of us, generally in the order of Todd, Sandy, me and Sue (as pictured, left to right), but we flowed back and forth, often to talk or make a short burst to stretch out the legs a little. There certainly weren’t many people passing us, unless it was after a long wait crossing a busy intersection (Can anyone explain why some cyclists do that?), and then we would end up going right back around them anyway.
   While we’re at it, why do drivers feel the need to go around cyclists when approaching a stop sign/light? We’re going to pull right up beside the car/truck at the stop, and most likely be quicker off the mark, so the driver is going to have to pass us again. I just don’t get the thinking, or lack of it. It’s even more exasperating when they squeeze off the space between car and curb, leaving you to suck in their exhaust while you wait.
   Back at a rest stop in Delaware, spirits were mostly high, in large part due to negligible winds and the forecasted rain that never really amounted to anything but an occasional spritz. I won’t say I let it get me down, because I’ve become somewhat accustomed to the absence of items at feed zones for celiac sufferers such as myself, but the smell of muffins, bagels and (later) pizza gets pretty annoying. I just wanted to rush back onto the bike, but I tried to be patient and let everyone enjoy the breaks. I appreciated the fruit/nut bars Sue made for me, but sometimes the “substitutes” I have to live with just don’t cut it!
   Although Sandy’s back was tightening up during the second half of the event, she simply took some time to stretch, and we were on our way again. Neither she nor Sue had any complaints of leg fatigue, even though the pace never slowed. Late in the ride Sue went into her tuck on the aerobars and pulled away from the group with me in tow. I looked back and found the rest of our gang about a half mile back, probably wondering if we intended on finishing by ourselves.
   The railfan in me helped slow us down, as we viewed a train out in the middle of nowhere, and (I’m pretty sure) I bored our bunch with a story about the newly painted locomotive that was on the front. Shortly afterward we started up one of the few inclines on the route, and Sandy and Sue were hanging behind as Todd and I started uphill. I heard some giggling on my left as Sandy blew by us, and I tried to quickly jump across to salvage my manhood by not letting her get away so easily. I told her next time to laugh after she goes by so that she keeps the element of surprise when attacking. We all enjoy our moments of pretend professional bike racing!
   We had a great time meeting this challenge together and even flirted with the idea of completing the 100 mile route. I have no doubts about my family members completing the MS ride, but I wonder at what speed we’ll be doing it and if the other folks on our team will be able to hang with us.

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Sportsmanship?


   Monday’s exciting stage three of the Vuelta a España (Tour of Spain) featured constant attacks on a long uphill finish, many by Alberto Contador, who has just returned to racing after his doping suspension. Although I’m not a fan of Contador, I recognize how much his aggressive style of racing adds to the sport of cycling. I was most encouraged to see Contador waste a lot of energy as his repeated jumps were matched by the top contenders like Joaquin Rodriguez, Chris Froome and my personal favorite, Alejandro Valverde. After a very tight finishline victory (photo left), Valverde took the overall race leadership, but he didn’t hold onto it very long.
   With about 35 kilometers left in yesterday’s stage four, Valverde and a handful of his Movistar teammates were caught up in a crash while rolling through a flat section marked by crosswinds. Froome’s team Sky immediately picked up the pace, made it extremely difficult for Valverde to return to the peloton and dropped him back to ninth place at the finish, 36 seconds back. I understand the desire to put pressure on opponents who are tiring and attacking to gain some time – that’s what bicycle racing is all about. However, this simply was not the case, taking advantage of the race leader when he just had some bad luck. The British Eurosport commentators took the stance that it was part of the “racing action”, but they seem to have become cheerleaders lately for the Sky team, which is dominated by U.K. riders, so I won’t put a lot of weight behind their opinions.
 
   I immediately thought of the old unwritten cycling code of honor to not attack opponents when they crash. During the 2001 Tour de France, Lance Armstrong waited for his rival Jan Ulrich to climb back onto his bike after he had misjudged a turn and went down an embankment. Armstrong’s refusal to take advantage of the misfortune of an opponent paid off two years later when his handlebar was caught on the handbag strap of a roadside fan and Ulrich waited for him to recover (photo right). Yes, I know that it is somewhat strange to point out issues of fairness during a period when all of cycling’s top competitors may have been using some sort of performance enhancing drugs, but most of us now just see this as their bizarre form of a level playing field.
   In the modern world of sport, where “if you’re not cheating, you’re not trying” has become the norm, it always seemed cycling at least clung to this one important act of sportsmanship. Unfortunately it seems this law of the peloton has gone out the window, and I’ll be the first to admit that the Movistar team may only have themselves to blame. At this year’s Paris-Nice, Levi Leipheimer crashed while chasing on a decent and Movistar turned up the pace, effectively knocking him out of the race and putting Valverde on the podium. During stage three of the Tour of Switzerland, most of the Movistar team was separated from the trailing peloton at a lowered railroad crossing gate and continued to push on. Some heated arguments began at the front, and eventually the race director stepped in to hold up the leaders.
   Teams will often brush off these incidents, claiming that they “Didn’t realize what was going on” or “Weren’t aware so-and-so crashed”, but in these days of race radio and TV coverage everywhere, that is just a ridiculous excuse! I hate the idea of a mechanical flaw or careless accident determining the winner of important races, but with the amount of money and prestige now involved in major cycling events, perhaps the unwritten code has been permanently broken.
 
   Much of my distaste for Alberto Contador stems from his 2010 Tour de France win, which came mostly on the strength of the time he gained when Andy Schleck had a chain/derailleur issue (photo left). The fact that the victory was eventually awarded to Schleck because of Contador’s doping allegations only helps somewhat to erase memories of the lame video Alberto released at the time, apologizing for taking advantage of his rival’s misfortune.
   Media discussion has raged on about circumstances during races and fair play among cyclists in their pursuit of victory. Unfortunately much that I’ve seen written involves “taking revenge” or “getting even in the next race”. What is this, the World Wrestling Federation? Next thing you know it, we’ll have fiery team directors posturing in front of the camera, talking about how their team is going to wipe the tarmac with their rivals!

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Fear of Those Who Don't Know What the Hell They'e Doing

   Because my wife has competed in a few triathlons this summer, I have had to explain several times why I don’t enter one myself. Well, despite having track and field on my athletic résumé, I was a sprinter and jumper and prefer not to run long distances. I do occasionally enjoy the varied terrain of trail running, which is not only less boring but also less punishing on my legs than running on long stretches of concrete and asphalt. Another important reason for my tri aversion is poor swimming technique – I sink like a brick and have a flailing style that looks more like a survival stroke. Yes, I could work on it and maybe take some lessons, but if I don’t have a strong wish to do it, there is really no point. In response to my mother’s question about improving my swimming, I asked, “Are you good at marathon running? Are you going to practice to get better at your marathon running?”
   After witnessing some of the entrants at these triathlon events, I believe I’ve found the most important reason for me to avoid entering - the fear of being wiped out by someone who simply doesn’t have bike handling skills. I have experienced this problem in some citizen bike races years ago, with nervous weavers causing panic in the bunch. The “fun” goes out of these events very quickly when picking cinders out of the large scrapes down your leg!


   I would never want to discourage anyone from exercising, but there needs to be a separation of entrants for the benefit of more experienced/competitive folks. Just watching an elite athlete from a different age group having to zigzag her $5000+ Cervelo time trial bicycle through a pack of chicks on mountain bikes trying to jam their running shoes into conventional pedals and old-school toe clips is ridiculous! There are many awkward overweight folks competing that cause problems, but I don’t mean to pick on them because there are plenty of “pretty folks” on beach cruisers with baskets on the bars that are just out there for the fun of it, and are also relatively clueless on a bike. Organizers should be aware of a need for a division for the non-competitive types, just for the safety of the more intense athletes.


   The SheROX event in Philadelphia on Sunday had a particularly dangerous pinch point where the transition from the swim to the run overlapped with the turnaround point of the cycling loop. The weary-legged women struggling to get into their pedals were creating a jam, and others were impatiently swerving around them into the passing lane (or even worse, the return lane) to get by. A frightening collision nearly occurred when several cones were knocked over and someone attempted to set them back up. Screened by some slower riders, this helpful person didn’t take a very long look before continuing across the street and walked into the path of a cyclist deep in her aerodynamic tuck, rocketing down West River Drive. The piercing screech the woman let out when she saw him standing there was the only thing that snapped the dude out of his deer-in-the-headlights stupor.
   I still enjoy playing many different sports, but admit that my competitive spirit has mellowed a bit. I find myself far less willing to take risks to be successful, particularly when it may involve personal injury. Cycling with others can be fun, but I’d rather have the comfort of pedaling among familiar people, with a skill level of which I am more confident. These days I am content going fast while out riding alone, instead of taking the chance of compromising my health because of some other cyclist’s mistake.