Tuesday, May 29, 2012

ITU San Diego Triathlon

Results posted for the 2012 ITU San Diego Triathlon, World Championship Series. Riderturbo wins 12th place out of 63 men age 40-44 category over the 750m swim / 25km bike / 5km run.   Swim time 12:21, bike time 51:45, run time 26:38 in a blow up of epic proportions after overamping on the hilly non-drafting bike leg.  Lovely wife and beautiful kids in the cheering section helped, followed by a pleasant afternoon at the San Diego Zoo and following morning at Sea World watching Shamu.  All told, not a bad result in the timeless war of attrition: either get faster the old-fashioned way boosting wattage, dropping weight and training VO2, or simply hold your pace year after year while the competition gets older, fatter, slower and drops out, one at a time.  Either way, hold on long enough and you'll eventually find yourself at the top. Go Ranch!    

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

ITU Triathlon - World Champ Series - May 2012

Time to drop weight, cut fat and get fit for summer. Ranch West Coast with a big opener in May. Saddled up with elites in one of the last qualifiers for London Olympics 2012. Videos below. Race report to follow. Viva la Ranch!



Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Backyard Riding - Point Mugu State Park

The thermometer of success is merely the jealousy of the malcontents. - Salvador Dali

From the streets of London, Regents Park, Richmond Park and Turville, to our present-day backyard playground -- the Santa Monica Mountains -- a little photo of RiderMama and RiderTurbo in pre-season training in Point Mugu State Park, California.

Eat that, Ranch London!
http://venturacountytrails.org/TrailMaps/Sycamore/AreaTrails.htm

And a little joke for the technical cognisceti among us...

Understanding Engineers
Two engineering students were walking across a university campus when one said, 'Where did you get such a great bike?' The second engineer replied, 'Well, I was walking along yesterday, minding my own business, when a beautiful woman rode up on this bike, threw it to the ground, took off all her clothes and said, 'Take what you want.' The second engineer nodded approvingly and said, 'Good choice; the clothes probably wouldn't have fitted you anyway.'

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Saturday, January 28, 2012

musings of "quality"

Having been on the road for three weeks with about 30,000 miles to speak for - i found myself with the ever diminishing asset "time" suddenly in big supply. This was especially so with the various changes in time zones resulting in 3 am ceiling stares and planes who continually pander to i'm not sure who - stocking their movie selections with pap like hangover 2, the transformers, or bad teacher. However, one movie that i did manage to see though was "margin call" which given what most of us at the ranch do for living was cause for uncomfortable reflection and began the musings which this blog plays heed to. Ever more quizzical eyes focus on banker compensation these days which when coupled with the new capital adequacy measures which make for less levered banks, which make for less return on equity, and ultimately less dough to go around this time of year. This is not unexpected nor necessarily wrong - rather as we need live in the present - its just reality. "Occupy" has changed the conversation at least for now, and Wall Street needs to answer for its part in driving the gulf between itself and main street. I hope we are all enlightened enough to say that someone needed to find the dimmer switch under which we partied the night away - and shine a brighter light on the ugliness greed and entitlement brings. While living in the present is all well and good - this does not mean we can't ponder the future and gently daydream of other alternatives to "I'm never at home" jobs. Reflecting on a great line from my father - one should never confuse that which is familiar from that which is best for you. Unfortunately to get to the "best for you" part - it necessarily implies a critical amount of introspection which may happen for the 3 minutes one is under the shower each day - but beyond that we really just whizz by with life. That is of course until one day we happen upon another reality which makes us say "hey wait a minute" maybe i got this all wrong. As one begins to field more panicked calls from disgruntled bankers, troubled friends, and young markets people that look up with that "what just happened coach" gaze - the critical thinking becomes ever more acute. What pushes an old fuzzy thinker like myself to take that more than pregnant pause is when you see what is possible when a good friend and rancher breaks away and stays true to goals which start with "whats best for my family" "whats best for my health" and "whats best over the long haul" haul being a path to grow old gracefully with control over time and relevance. The rancher who propelled me into this "hmmmm" moment is our pal rider turbo. As this is a cycling blog i will hereby dispense with the "emotional intelligence" prelude and dive into guts of my 3.5 hours with turbo in the hills of santa monica which has forced pen to paper.
This is the map of turbos backyard - all the place names; "Malibu", "Pacific Coast Highway", "Encina", are familiar to us as we have been force fed LA geography through hollywood and mass market TV. But what never comes out is just how perfect the setting truly is. As i pulled into turbo's driveway at 10:30 am i remember him nattering about just what an ideal ride is out his back porch. At the ranch we have played witness to lots of "best of" boasts as far as rides go so of course I'm going to take any claim to "ideal" with a pinch of salt. Nevertheless, living in Asia with my loop being a 30 minute smog choked - not that interesting - traffic dodger - i was pumped for views that didn't involve lots of tall buildings. Turbo being the attention to detail rider we all know - had pristine ranch kit kept only for race days or in this case visiting VIP's - laid out for me with a base layer and my shoes being my only contribution. He had saddled up an older but wonderfully kept cervelo frame, matched my in step measurements to saddle height, prepared the pedals for my look keo cleats, and had two filled water bottles mounted. Tossing an energy gel at me he said today we will bag the "double decker" - which is an out and back ride over the two summits which comprise decker canyon.
We set out under a 22 degree late morning sun, no wind, no traffic, and came to the base of the first climb within five minutes of his home. Beginning gently the climb kicks up to somewhere around 12 percent in places and spinning consistently we crested the top after about 35 minutes. The ride then bobs along the top of the canyon for about 15 minutes then descends with wide open views of the pacific ocean on one side and the santa moncia and malibu parklands on the other. Ranches of various description line the route and traffic was limited to a car or two every ten minutes.
The first descent spills onto the pacific coast highway which you pedal on for about 500 meters veering off eventually onto an immediately steep ascent - which is the start of the second climb - or as turbo calls it - decker two. This climb felt a little more challenging and took us 45 minutes to gain the summit. Again little traffic was seen aside from the solo guy who passed us at pace. We danced along the ridge line and ultimately came to the same road we had been on earlier. The descent was painless although the writer of this post was holding up the show with a more tentative line than the aptly named turbo, and we pulled into case turbo 20 minutes later.
The ride ended all too soon as i had to shower and make hay for a late afternoon flight to san francisco. My cab was waiting and again, timed to perfection as i checked in on the bell. Coming back to the musings part - turbo has found the most remarkable of quality of life gigs a man could hope for. The thing was he didn't hope - he actualized - as too often we dream about a better situation - which is nothing more for 98 per cent of us than idle fantasy. Great family with him and a wife who not only he has to chase after or up these california climbs, but who is helping people everyday as a oncologist in one of the best hospitals in the country - he seems he has sacrificed little in his choices. True not all of us can run 600mln of hedge fund assets from CA, but we can sure try to plan on doing something productive, in a healthier, and more affordable situation - which doesn't start or end with a financial capital of the world. To borrow Easy E's line - that kid is winning - to me i think he has won .

Friday, December 9, 2011

nepal ultra 250 - the pitts's story

Racing the planet does 4 desert races each year: antartica, gobi, atacama, and the sahara. In addition there is one roving race - in 2011 the choice for the 5th was Nepal. The 6 days consist of a marathon a day with 2 on the 5th day. In sum the total vertical is just under 10k meters with most of the up and down found on stones cut into the side of the mountains. This makes for dangerous going early in the morning as the dew pools atop the rocks making the surface worse than a saskatchewan skating rink - in addition the spacing can be deep making for extreme pressure on unprepared knees. I played witness to an unfortunate flat lander who despite his ironman tattoo, rolled off the course in front of me holding a snapped i.t. band. The race is entirely self supported which means you must pack your own food (one must prove 2k calories per day), sleeping stuff, and whatever else you consider important to surviving, what is provided by racing the planet is water (every 10k) and tents.
Nepal, while being undeniably beautiful, is also in the sub tropics and as such - is the perfect place for baddy germs or bits of disease fueled vermin. The mountains are dotted with villages and no matter how remote you think you are, the familiar waft of open sewage comes trickling by throwing ones senses back to the dark congested ally ways of Delhi. Nepal, my old doctor friend Calvin warned before i left, is the dirties cesspool on earth - disinfect at every opportunity. So i did.
Emphasis is on keeping ones pack as light as possible - one would be amazed at the number of blogs, chatrooms and the like devoted to ultra light backcountry gear. My 32 liter osprey weighted in at all of 8.2 kilos. Simone opted for a few comforts (wool booties for sub zero nights, a camera, and slightly more food as she planned to be on her feet more than me). The key to getting through the race which averages a 50% drop out is somewhat whats in your engine - but more - how your skeleton holds up (knees, turned ankles, blisters, backs). The unforeseen knock out punch in Nepal was a gastro-intestinal bug that ripped through camp putting 50% of the participants in a 24 hour tizzy of vomitting - soupy runs - and shivers. Remember, that all this sickness comes at a time where you are racing to meet cut off times and spend as little time on your feet as possible given that blisters are what keep most athletes from continuing. An example of one of my more admired pieces of equipment is "my feathered friend" sleeping bag coming in at under one pound and good until -3c, which i buttressed with a silk liner giving me an additional 5 degrees. I ordered this bag from Seattle as it has an almost cult like following amongst the climbing community - the guy whom i spoke with over the phone lectured me for 30 minutes on my gear choices - love that guy and love that store.
Simone and I agreed to both go at our separate pace - however the second day she woke up doubled over with the bug so my job was squarely and uniquely to get her over the line. Despite her friends telling her that it wasn't worth the effort given she had 2,800 meters of climbing ahead of her in +32 weather - she put her head down and plowed ahead. This made for a challenging marital dynamic: remembering its my wife that was near death so compassion need be demonstrated - yet coming to grips with the AAA nature of a competitive middle aged canadian beast i obviously didn't want my race to come an abrupt end, sick wife or no sick wife - thus the delicate balance began. Pausing after the first hour to projectile vomit which funneled out on a 5 foot arc, it was obvious the day was going to be eventful. The puke pauses became our hourly ritual until later in the afternoon when, the odd bit of bile aside, the condition degenerated into dry heaves that would scare any freshman at chico state. She keep her calories up by licking GU gels and nibbling at lance's own honey waffle stingers. After crossing a 200m swinging bridge over the most striking deep gurgling gorge - the end of the day was in sight and she trotted into camp with 30 minutes to spare. Our tent mates, and other friends ripped her pack off - got her mat and sleeping bag set up, and warmed some beef broth with dried noodles which she had thoughtfully brought as a one day alternative to dehydrated expedition food. By 6:15 she was snoring away with a double imodium dose - waking up 12 hours later feeling somewhat fresh and ready to race. God bless my wife - so strong. Below is a shot of her at the start of our day together - i love the way the picture oozes pale pain.
The week really pivoted on the 85km day. Containing 3,500 meters of up and down - its estimated that one will burn 15-17k calories. For a posterity, a picture of our "game faces" morning of the biggie.
I paced the day with a pal of mine Ali who was on his 3rd ultra so he knew what to expect and we worked together entering camp around 11 at night after our 7 am start. Very much a consistent slog with us running the flats and the downs until night hit where we marched at about 5km per hour under headlight. Never having put that much strain on my legs before - getting to sleep despite being bushed - was a challenge as my quads wouldn't stop quivering and i felt real water retention on my left shin which wasn't as achey as it was pulsing a heavy gooey sensation. Simone came in with her crew in just about 24 hours to the minute. Incredibly her laughing as she came across the line was what woke me up - and all smiles - blister free - she silently downloaded and slept until late morning.
The final day was an easy flat 16k run back into Pokhara - where pizza and beer were waiting for us - pictures were snapped, people hugged and most felt a certain sense of achievement - and i just sat - content but without the tingle that i used to get racing the bike - i would describe the feeling as a nice warm thud. Would i do a race like this again - absolutely. No question if i don't have a race to train for, a well articulated goal with a tangible chance of failure to scare - i lack the intensity and drive to maintain what i consider an acceptable level of condition which ultimately insulates us all from growing old where it matters most - in the mind. The happy clear minded couple um ziel.

Monday, October 17, 2011

Tour of Romandie CycloSportif–It’s Not Easy Being Green

Référence : les chiffres de Contador sur la montée de Verbier 2009:
Temps: 20’53”                   Pourcentage: 7,5%
Distance: 8’700 m     
Poids du coureur: 62 kg     Poids du matériel de Contador : 7 kg
Contador pèserait 69 kgs, ce qui porterait sa puissance à 550 watts sur Verbier

September 11, 2011 dawns and another Bite/Howe Ranch adventure is upon us.  Riders SharkBite and Howe do not set their sights low: todays challenge is to equal or exceed Alberto Contador’s time for the Le Chable to Verbier climb, set in the 2009 stage of the Tour de France. 

Consistent with best practice, comprehensive preparations began…ah…the night before…um…around Howe’s dining room table.  Healthy amounts of protein and vegetable items were consumed, along with grape and wheat-derived beverages, in an atmosphere of maximum sociability.

7am and SharkBite and Howe are in Bite’s rented station wagon, en-route to Aigle.  Today’s objective is the Verbier La Romandie Classic, a special event conceived by the organisers (and, as we’d soon see, the sponsors) of the annual Tour de Romandie pro UCI race.  It would be a cyclosportive with a difference: start with 90 or so kms of cycling in a marshalled and escorted peleton (cruising beside the vineyards and fields of the Sion valley floor), rise gradually from Martigny to Le Chable, then—upon arrival in Le Chable—hit the first timing station at the base of the climb and let the demons rip as 500 or so riders do their best against the clock to pound it up to the Verbier finish line.  Not your usual format, and it produced some interesting experiences.

Summary of race profile: flat…followed by one big ol’ JFG ‘er.

Howe and Bite pulled up to the suburban retail zone parking lot where the start was taking place and headed to the pre race registration area (which turned out to be inside a large 5 storey gymnasium kind of building).  Everything went smoothly, with both race numbers and freebie gift bags and jerseys being obtained with typical Swiss efficiency.  The usual next step ensued: Ranch riders searching out and evaluating toiletary facilities.  It was while waiting for Rider Howe in the hallway for a few minutes that an important realisation dawned.  In a concrete alcove all along this hallway there were bicyles stored in racks.  But Sharkbite noted that these were not road bikes for today’s event: they were track bikes.  It was at this point that both riders realised that when they registered at tables set up in the large open floor of this round gymnasium type building, they were not (as they had unconsciously assumed) in some generic conference centre space.   This place was a full on bad-boy velodrome…in the middle of Aigle Switzerland!!!  This of course started to make more sense in the context of the UCI Cycling Academy being about a mile away, closer to the centre of Aigle. (An institution riders Howe and Sharkbite were only too familiar with, given the tendency of a small group of UCI academy juniors to show up at the Martigny Mauvoisin race and comprehensively blow away the field…and the hopes and dreams of your hapless Ranch brethren.)

The organisers were requesting that all participants wear the green Vaudoise assurance jerseys given to the all the riders, but Howe and Bite had other plans: the colours they displayed today, would, as usual, be black, white, red and yellow. 

A totally phenomenal, clear, blue sky, sunny day was dawning: a Ranch day.

Learning from the Gruyere experience, Howe and Bite arrived at the start area in good time and managed quick vaults over the barriers and into the start area (when the burly Swiss man charged with controlling the start group size had turned the other way to bellow at some other dude who got caught doing the same).

Although Howe and Bite couldn’t see it at the time, up ahead the full escort and cavalcade of motorcyle marshalls had formed.

…The customary Skoda station wagon escorts, complete with flashing yellow lights.

 

 

 

 

…And our leather-clad pals from the Valais Motorcyclers Federation.  Respect.

 

 

 

Yup, we had a great big convoy…and she was a beautiful sight. 

Howe and Bite slotted comfortably into a mid-peleton position in the long, snaking sea of green jerseys and sat back to enjoy the tour of the flatlands.  They knew what their only priority was: conserve energy.  And on this beautiful day they had about 498 available humanoids (sitting atop a wide selection of the best bicycle technology out there) to choose from, like they were put there specifically to help Howe and Bite achieve their plan.  Even better, quite a few of these other humanoids were sized and shaped to provide maximum headwind-sheltering benefits to anyone behind them.  God bless the chubby, Swiss weekend warrior: we like the way you roll (as long as you do it in front of us, not beside us).

It became clear pretty quickly that this phase around the valley and on towards Le Chable was not going to be like any “normal” event.  With it not being a closed-road event, for safety reasons the Swissies wanted the escort to hold the peleton in one long pack (and to keep it on the right side of the road only).  This meant that permanent vigilance was required, because even though the peleton was half a kilometre long, there were immediately accordion effects every time the front reached any incline, roundabout, or negative change in velocity.  All of a sudden, hands of riders up front would wave, the squeal and smell of brake pads on carbon would break out, and Howe and Bite would have to drop half their velocity and be careful not to impact riders in front.

Despite this challenge, things passed smoothly.  Totally clear skies, warm temperatures, views of the mountains, fields and vineyards…and locals lining the way all along the route to clap and cheer.  This wasn’t racing, but it was a training ride like no other.

romandie2011_b_0421

 

romandie2011_b_0249

There were only a couple of deviations from the energy conservation goal during this 2 hour period.  First, Bite and Howe both simultaneously felt the need to urinate on the Swiss countryside.  There were two dangers inherent in this: 1) Not getting slammed by some dufus from behind as you pulled off to the side of the road and stopped, and 2) the obvious: re-joining the peleton once you were a couple of minutes off the back.  Howe and Bite executed successfully and quickly on satisfying their biological needs and were able to power back together to reach the whirring green peleton beast.  A burst of effort that provided a welcome stimulation and prep, by getting the heart rate up.

The second energy expenditure came in the gradual climbing section from Martigny to Le Chable.  The riders stuck religiously behind others, but found themselves nonetheless moving gradually forward in the pack, as heavy riders moved into slower relative speeds once climbing a gradual slope.

But with around 3 hours down, the duo duly rolled into the last couple of kilometres to Le Chable.  SharkBite narrowly escaped a peleton wipe out on the gradual climb from Sembrancher, when a rider to his side lost his pedal, bumped Bite and Bite bumped the guy on the other side.  A close one, but no one went down.

Coming into Le Chable, it was time to move into stage 2 of the race plan.  SharkBite pulled over beside a field and reduced his bodily fluid burden.  Howe pulled into the food station before the final climb.  Both of them knew what was coming next…

JFG ‘er

romandie2011_b_0812

 

romandie2011_s_0172

 

romandie2011_s_0113

And of course, while we were doing a lot of that, we weren’t really able to enjoy much of this…

 

Alex Moos of the BMC mountian bike team brings it home in a winning 24:56 time for the climb.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

IMG-20110911-00043

Rider Howe brings it home in a hard fought 44:52, pushing through an energy crash and the midday heat.

 

 

 

 

IMG-20110911-00042

SharkBite, oxygen starved and confused, wonders what the numbers 36:24 mean, where he is and what he is doing there…and takes a photo of himself in the hope it might help him figure it out some day.

IMG-20110911-00045

In a sea of green, the Ranch is duly represented.  Rider Dazed (L) and Rider Confused (R) absorb the sweet, sugary taste of energy replenishing beverages.  They smile at a job well done.  And they smile because they know the secret weapon to beat Contador’s time by 50% every time, with no performance enhancing drugs or doping required…

the telecabine.  Yeah, baby. 

Alberto, eat your heart out.  And enjoy those preserved meats, by the way.

P.S. Verbier TV put together this short piece on the event, complete with Ranch-appropriate 70’s porn movie soundtrack.