Tag Archives: Road Cycling Blogs

Saturday Morning Group Ride

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Five Thirty comes early on a Saturday morning. I take 20 minutes to sip the morning brew in the darkness while I stare at the wall covered in ink drawings, photographs and lithographs. I remain in a dream like state as I reminisce about how or where I found each piece. Surprised at how much I can remember…the day, the smells, the light, who I was with, and what I was feeling, I am thankful that they are there hanging on the wall in front of me. I look to the blank space on the wall and wonder what is next. This is how I start each morning suspended in the past, absent from the present and anxious for the future.

So starts the pre-ride routine that prepares me for a 3 hour tour of the Miami flatlands. Another 30 minutes has me filling bottles, laying out my clothes, nutrition, and gear. I procrastinate a few moments, as I always do, just prior to slathering on the chamois cream and sunscreen.

Then it’s, Kit UP, Pump Up and GO!

I haven’t made a Saturday morning group ride in over 10 months. Carless roads, cool summer breeze and a beautiful Miami sunrise greet me as I make my way through the city towards the meet point at Miami City Hall. I miss these quiet moments on the bike. The city has its own morning rituals. The young stumble out of the clubs, the long shore men line up for selection and the homeless begin to wake from their temporary beds. It is still too early for shops and bakeries to open but some coffee can be found if you know where to look.

This is a new group for me, an aspiring group of 20 riders in the 18-22 speed range. A collection of men and women of different sizes and shapes leave as scheduled. We rode out to Black Point with a sprint that topped out at about 25mph. The ride leader launched from the group with no chase. I looked around….anybody…anybody? Nobody chases. So I jump, bridging the gap and maintaining at 25 for a few hundred yards until we settle down at about 23mph for the remaining distance. This is a far cry from last year’s 34MPH top end and 23-26MPH cruising speed. Its ok, it is not all gone, I can work with it.

Todd Gogulski commenting on the Vuelta quotes Jonathan Vaughters.”The mind of the professional cyclist is a fragile thing”. He adds his own philosophies on the importance of a positive mental attitude and how it relates to Chris Horner’s chances of reclaiming the red jersey.

On the return trip, I begin to lose patience with the gaps in the double pace line and the accordion affect it creates. I pull out and up to the front alongside the group leader and stay there for the remainder of the ride. The group leader, a Hungarian supply chain professional, is a chatty guy so we hold a conversation while keeping a 20-21 mph tempo. We quickly find common ground and enjoy a work related discussion that makes light the effort on the bike. I’m reminded on how cycling is really a community of strangers and how cyclists in general are an amicable group.

I return home to a hot bath and some much deserved rest.

I sleep  dream the rest of the day away.

I Never Ride at Night without Lights

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A couple of weeks ago I was returning home from a ride on The Key. It was already dark and the rain diminished visibility even further.  Miami rain can be intense. We will see 3-4 inches in an hour, 8-9 inches in a day when other cities may not see 2-4 inches in a month. When I lived in New England, rain was a daylong – weeklong affair of grey skies and drizzle. A place where storm talk delivered 2- 4 inches in a day. This is Miami, when it rains, visibility is reduced to 10 or 20 yards. Even the erratic, unpredictable, and irrational Miami motorists seem to take caution when water pours from the sky.

Less than a half a mile from home I ride past a single speed hipster without lights. Well folks… sadly it is in my nature to pass judgment on people when they demonstrate a total lack of basic common sense. Not very gentleman like I know, but honestly, would you drive your car at night, in the rain without lights? I have learned to keep these thoughts and impressions unexpressed in the name of civility and self preservation.

He rolls up on me at the next traffic light and exclaims, “I better follow YOU the rest of my ride!”

I don’t respond.

I just hung my head and looked down as the water runs off my helmet, along my visor and down to the tarmac looking more like water from a faucet. I knew what he meant though, I run a Serfas Thunderbolt on my seat post and a TSL-250 on my bars. At times like these I fire up the Raider I have attached to my helmet. Pedestrians and motorists complain, jest, and rant but I can be seen. I am visible. I am alive. Anyway, I love the Raider. It is light, bright and easily attaches to my helmet.  It is my plan B for when the Thunderbolt wanes and augments it when I need it most.

I am in decision making mode. He must think me rude as I have not made any verbal recognition of his presence. “Be the change”, I think as I reach up with my left hand, detach the Raider from the helmet and hand it to him with my right. He gives me a puzzling glance but quickly snatches it from my hand and fumbles a bit while attaching it to his seat post. “How…?” he begins.  I interrupt, “Just turn it 180 degrees… It’s rechargeable with USB “.  “Thanks”, the traffic light turns green and off he went. I roll to the left turning slowly so as to observe his departure. It is a damn bright light. Within only 50 yards you could not see him any longer. The Raider is the only thing that betrayed his very existence. “THANKS”, can be heard from the distance.

I smile.

At 200 yards I can still see the Raider.

Have I mentioned that I love that light?

Last night I rolled out while the sky was still that unmistakable Miami blue. Four miles out I reached down to fire up the Thunderbolt. I left it at home on the charger. With no plan B, I picture myself riding The Key without a rear light through the road construction on Bear Cut Bridge or the darkness created by the mangroves on the way to the Tennis Center.

I turned home to pick up the Thunderbolt. I never ride at night without lights.

Blocked

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“Just go out for an easy one”

These are the words I tell myself whenever I lack the kind of motivation that has me strip down, pump up, kit up and go. An easy spin has me over the Rickenbacker in less than 25 minutes. It is now time for my 4X 8 minutes of big gear training. I call them interval training wheels.

My 1st attempt at an interval quickly turned my legs into two swollen balloons. Insert Pink Floyd’s “Comfortably Numb”, here. This feeling is unique. It is not the kind of pain induced by a long hard effort. Like when you are pulling at the front straight into a headwind and even when you try to peel off… no one comes up; you suck it up and you push through. In fact, there is no pain at all. No pain and no power either. You just can’t make a go of it. It’s like driving an old jalopy in need of a motor rebuild. You press on the gas… and nothing.

I know this feeling. I have had it before……”Your legs are blocked” says Simon back in 2011.

What kind of new age, acupuncture, or yoga voodoo are you trying to sell me?

“You need to do some 6/24’s”, he adds.

Next day I go out and do 2 X 5 min of 6 second sprints with 24 second recovery. The following day, Voila, I’m doing 2×20 minute threshold intervals like a Belgium on Pave.

So tonight, it’s 2x5min 6/24s and we will see what tomorrow brings.