MOOSECROSS

Dave Bergart has put together the first annual Moosecross in Victor, ID. From what I can tell, it is one of the earlier CX races this year. And a lot of effort has gone into making it a success. Support it!

Here's an email from Dave:

Hello Friends,

I wanted to let you know we are hosting the coolest cyclocross race this side of the Globe right here in Victor! It is aptly named moosecross, and will be held in conjunction with the Grand Teton Brewery's Octoberfest. Bikes and beer. Can you think of a better combination? Anyway check out the site www.moosecross.com and then sign up. Everyone receives a moosecross pint glass and a guaranteed good time. We are making this a killer event. Announcers, spectators ringing cowbells, heck we are even printing up custom course marking tape! It will be like you are racing in Europe. Never raced cross? No big deal, mountain bikes are perfect and remember Fun is the official "F" word @ moosecross. Basically it is a short track (1.2 miles) it has fun features like whoop-de-dos, and banked turns, a section where you hop off your bike and run over some barriers, as well as bike path and dirt straightaways. You'll love it. This event is not to be missed.

Check out this youtube video if you need a better idea http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VRZOa_E9Qs8
(don't be scared of all the lycra)

Then check out www.moosecross.com and sign up!

Hope to see you on the 20th

-Dave

Ian Tuttle: Ride Fast

Ian was formerly a “local” from Jackson, Wyoming and raced a lot in the local races. Last fall, he relocated from Jackson, Wyoming to Mill Valley, California with his girlfriend, after which they broke up. Ian is still getting over the break up, which may explain his meteoric rise from a Cat 3 to a Cat 1 during the course of a few months. Ian and I recently had a conversation that went something like this:

SS: Congratulations, I hear you just got your Cat 1 upgrade. When you were suffering on the road from Logan to Jackson last September as a Cat 3, did you think you’d be a Cat 1 by May?

IT: Definitely. I really want to compete in Nationals this year. And I admit that it’s pretty cool to be able to compete at the top amateur level.

SS: How long have you been racing?

IT: I started racing in 2005. I upgraded to a Cat 3 in 2007. I got denied for the Cat 2 upgrade twice in Utah and once in California. Then in April 2008, I upgraded to a Cat 2 after I won 2 Cat 3 races in California.

SS: So, have you ever won a race when you didn’t solo across the line?

IT: Hmm. Now that I think about it, my last two Cat 3 races, I won solo.

SS: And I remember you soloing – barely – to the win at Garden Creek last year.

IT: Right. Good times.

SS: So what about your stage win as a Cat 2 at Gila?

IT: It was somewhat of a flyer, but wasn’t really a bunch sprint. I saw Sohm take off, and I launched solo to catch him, caught him, and barely held off the pack.

SS: Yeah, I think you did the exact same thing in ’07 on that stage, except we were racing for 30th place in the Cat 3s. And what about your recent stage win at Hood?

IT: It was a circuit race of 5 laps. At the beginning of the 3rd lap, we caught a breakaway and thought it was a logical place to go. I expected others to come with me, but I guess everyone thought it was too early to go. I gained time on the uphill and the downhill and ended up sticking it with 1:35 on the group.

SS: You kind of attack where people are thinking, “it’s too early,” or “yeah right, like that will stick.”

IT: Yeah, but I think that’s how all breakaways happen. Usually when a break goes, everyone is thinking, gee that’s dumb, I don’t want to be in their shoes. But their the ones that make it, and everyone thinks it’s hopeless.

SS: Lots of breaks fail though.

IT: True. I guess in the end, you have to have the legs to back it up.

SS: It’s hard to stick it out solo for sure.

IT: I like it when it comes down to solo time trial. I like to be out there racing against myself. I think it doesn’t matter if the pack catches you; all that matters is that you give it everything you have. I always feel better after the races where I push my limits and really see where the limit is – even if I blow up in the end.

SS: So, how many times did you attack before you got away at Hood?

IT: Once. Lucky for me, some other guys brought the break back. It was a perfect time to go.

SS: What about Gila? How many times did you attack or cover attacks?

IT: The race was blown apart, and when I saw a group go, I thought it would be a good opportunity to bridge up to some of the splinter groups ahead. . . . so once, I guess. I was inspired that day because I got a random water bottle that said, “the harder I work, the luckier I get.” So I took extra pulls and we eventually became the front group.

SS: Do you ever put yourself in the wind when your not in a break?

IT: No. I don’t have any teammates. So, I’m either sitting in, attacking or bridging.

SS: How does California racing compare to Utah?

IT: I think the level is about the same. The difference is that there are bigger numbers in California (and definitely a lot more wannabe racers).

SS: So, I saw a picture of your bike. Is that Greg Lemond’s old bike?

IT: Funny. No, it’s a Pegoretti. It’s not steel. It’s aluminum. Handles better than anything I’ve had. It is a bit heavier though. It’s unbelievable.

SS: How much does it weigh?

IT: 17-17.5 lbs.

SS: So, how did you get so strong this year?

IT: Well, I’ve been coached by the same guy for three years now and attribute a huge amount of my success to him. He’s been an incredible mentor for me. A lot of the training is counter intuitive. Sometimes I think I’m going too hard before a race. But he knows what he’s doing and has been a key to my success.

SS: Does your coach tell you exactly what to do?

IT: Yep. And I follow it to a “T.”

SS: No deviations?

IT: Nope.

SS: Do you ever think, my coach doesn’t know me, I feel tired, so I’m not doing this workout?

IT: Nope.

SS: Lots of trust there. Did you do any base training?

IT: Not really. The season starts here in January, so I used racing to train.

SS: How many hours do you train?

IT: 10-20 per week.

SS: That’s it?

IT: Yes.

SS: So, what’s the secret to your success?

IT: Well, I’m really focused. I don’t have a family. My job is racing oriented. I really don’t have any distractions.

SS: Do you train with a power meter?

IT: Yes. But I’ve never downloaded any information. I don’t really mess around with it. I look at it when I ride my bike, but that’s about it. I don’t like to get hung up on numbers.

SS: So what do you use your power meter for then?

IT: Just to stay in my zone, whether I’m going easy enough or hard enough.

SS: So it’s just a nice $3k ornament?

IT: No. No. I use it in training a lot. But I don’t like using it in racing. It doesn’t matter whether you’re putting out high numbers or low numbers. All that matters is where you come in relative to everyone else. I don’t like having false boundaries. They inhibit performance.

SS: Have you done specific training to improve your LT?

IT: I don’t know what LT is.

SS: Do you know what your power is at LT?

IT: Actually, I do.

SS: What is it?

IT: I’d rather not say. It doesn’t matter.

SS: So, what’s your power to weight ratio?

IT: Don’t know. I haven’t used a scale for four months.

SS: Liar.

IT: Whatever.

SS: 20 minute power?

IT: Don’t know.

SS: VO2 MAX?

IT: Don’t know.

SS: Liar liar. Well, I have to admit I like your style. . . . kind of a go with the flow, relaxed style: Just win.

IT: Totally. Cycling is a joyful thing. Have fun. Just win. Don’t get too anal or obsessed. Just ride fast.

SS: So, I’m still confused. The whole purpose of this interview was to figure out how you got so fast, so fast. What precisely did you do?

IT: Well, I just told you. I listen to my coach and I ride.

SS: So, the secret is that there is no secret?

IT: Something like that. Seriously, I think we let our minds and our egos get in the way. I think one of the things I like about cycling the most is that it gives me an opportunity to break through mental barriers. We are often limited by what we think we are capable. If you just “go with it” and ride hard and let the body work and just go fast, sometimes you surprise yourself and break through to the next level.

SS: Thanks Ian. Great conversation. Best of luck to you at Nationals. Ride fast and go pro!!

Ian’s blog can be found here.

All In

I'd be lying if I were to deny being really happy about winning the Sugarhouse Crit (qualifier: Cat 3). It was one of those days when the stars were so aligned that when the cards were dealt, it was a no brainer: all in.

Part of what made the win (yeah, I like using that word) so sweet (aside from the fact that it is the only win of my cycling career) is that it was all in from the get go. I put in the inaugural attack and Taylor Hansen and I found ourselves in the inaugural break. After a couple laps, we were brought back, and my teammate Jake (who has a mullet that admittedly looks pretty cool) countered. After Jake came back, Jon put in a dig.

About 40 minutes into the race, things got hot when Ali Goulet attacked hard and opened up a huge gap -- he was going up the finishing hill when the peloton was just hitting the downhill. Taylor and Boudreau were next to flee the pack, followed by me and Mullet Jake. We all effected the bridge and formed a loose conglomerate. Of all the moves of the day, I thought that one would stick. But it didn't.

With 2 laps to go, I went to the front and did my best to up the pace so no one would attack. At 1 lap to go, we were all together again. At 3/4 of a lap, we were still together heading up the first "climb." At the top of the "climb," we were still together. And then by the entrance gate, there was a slight hesitation.

As soon as the pack hesitated, I stood up, jumped, and laid down my best finishing sprint. I got a gap. The pack didn't chase. I pedaled up the hill. And soloed (barely) across the line. Lucky!

Given that most of the times when I go all in, I end up going kamikaze, i.e., explosions and suicide, I've been asking myself why I decided to jump when I did. Mostly, it was because the DH told me to go if there was a hesitation. I owe a lot to DH for that advice. Partly it was because last year I had a gap at the top of the hill, but thought it was too early to open up a sprint, and have been regretting and wishing I would have sprinted for the last year. And partly it was because of my race at Garden Creek; since then I have been kicking myself for not being aggressive enough. Lucky for me, I had those things weighing on me, and when the opportunity presented itself, I had the presence of mind to place my bet.

Perhaps the funniest thing was that once I had opened up the gap, I rode the whole downhill somewhat confused. I looked back, expecting to see a pack of 40 killer bees swarming down on me. Instead there was a sizeable gap. When I hit the uphill, rather than sprinting, I was thinking, "man, maybe there were two laps to go. I'm going to look kind of dumb sprinting with one lap to go." Even as I crossed the line, I wasn't 100 percent certain I had won. If there are any photos, they will likely depict me with my arms outstretched to the 4 and 8 o'clock positions. Not the typical 10 and 2 or 11 and 1 o'clock positions -- positions that I have practiced so many times when sprinting against myself in remote areas (admit it, you have too!). Although I'm not complaining, I wouldn't mind having that finish all over again.

Anyway, nice job to all those who participated, and remember, when it's time to place your bets, go all in.

PS I'm going to be posting an interesting interview with Ian Tuttle this week. Stay tuned.

The Next Generation

Took Ethan to his first BMX race. He was a bit scared, but still rode fast enough to win one heat and get a trophy in the main event. He slept with his trophy last night.

The Way of the Warrior

I'd like to say that I incurred these man prizes by ripping down a mountain pass at 55 mph. Instead, I have to admit that a gutter, a little moisture, and a 1/2 inch asphalt lip can result in a nice slide across the pavement and a bit of blood -- even for a Warrior.

Garden, Garden Creek Gap, and Watts

Random post. . .

I finally got around to planting a garden. Over the last couple of years, I've dug up flowers, bushes, and grass and replaced them with things I can eat. For the last few summers, I've had some nice zuchini, tomatoes, and peppers in my front yard flower beds.

Garden Creek Gap went ok. Compliments to Jess Dear for riding aggressively throughout the race. He attacked with 250 meters to go and nearly got the win. Chase out sprinted him though. McGovern got 3rd. I got 4th. After the race, I wished I had attacked at the bottom of the climb rather than wait until 250 meters to go to sprint. My excuses (not necesarily in this order) are: (a) my back was hurting, (b) I was scared that I'd burn myself up and give Chase and McGovern a nice lead out, (c) it was really cold and wet and my brain wasn't functioning properly. It was still a good race though.

Today I did some intervals. I intended on doing shorter intervals, but it ended up that I did 5 5 minute intervals up a climb. I recovered for 5 minutes between 1 and 2 and 3 and 4 and recovered for 10 minutes between 2 and 3 and 4 and 5.

I learned a few things about myself. Here are the numbers:

Interval 1: 1 mile, 4:59.9 minutes, 5.73 power to weight ratio (based on norm power), 78rpm, 12.1 mph, 9 perceived exertion (PE), and 16.3 training stress score (TSS).

I was fresh for this interval. Lots of standing on the pedals. Relatively higher cadence. Best time. I was pretending I was Contador (he stands a lot).

Interval 2: 1 mile, 5:12.5 minutes, 5.20 power to weight ratio, 77 rpm, 11.6 mph, 9 PE, 14 TSS.

One of the hardest intervals. I felt like I was going to throw up. Mixture of standing and sitting.

Interval 3: 1 mile, 5:07.4 minutes, 5.45 power to weight ratio, 76 rpm, 11.7 mph, 9 PE, 15 TSS.

I stood for a solid minute. Standing and sitting off and on afterwards. Relatively high TSS. Second best time.

Interval 4: 1 mile, 5:22.6 minutes, 4.78 power to weight ratio, 79 rpm, 11.2 mph, 8 PE, 12.1 TSS.

Mixture of standing and sitting at the beginning. Sitting for the last 3 minutes. Worst time. Lower TSS

Interval 5: 1 mile, 5:07.4 minutes, 5.00 power to weight ratio, 86 rpm, 11.8 mph, 8 PE, 12.7 TSS.

Sitting the WHOLE time.

Of most interest was a comparison between Interval 3 and Interval 5. Interval 3 I stood quite a bit. Interval 5 I sat the whole time. My times were exactly the same -- not necessarily a time savings if I sit or stand. I went slightly faster (11.8 mph) for Interval 5.

HOWEVER, note that the TSS for Interval 5 was 12.7, compared to 15 for Interval 3. Note that my power to weight ratio for Interval 5 was 5.0, compared to 5.45 for Interval 3. In essence, I used much less energy for Interval 5, compared to Interval 3, but went the same speed. For me, it's much more efficient to sit, rather than stand. Although, if I do stand and really punch it -- like Interval 1 -- I will go slightly faster, at a much higher cost though.

Also note, that my cadence for Interval 5 was much higher. Although I pedaled faster, I used less energy because I wasn't pushing as hard.

Though this is something I know intuitively, it is interesting to see the data. This illustrates that although Levi might be boring to watch, he is smart and conservative.

Chess, Poker and Jousting

Yesterday, a group of us were climbing Big Mountain. As the road tilted upward, the following conversation ensued (one tactic that can be employed on a steep climb to get the fast guy to turn it down a notch is to start idle conversation):

Samurai: huff huff puff puff. So Blake, what road races are you going to do this year?

BZ: Road racing is lame.

BG: You're riding with the wrong crowd.

End of conversation. More huff huff and puff puff. Time to think of a new tactic. . .

I've written in defense of cross. And while there are definite times that I can't disagree with BZ, there are those times that I really like road racing -- so much that I haven't and can't (yet) make the transition to something else (like cricket).

One of the appeals of road racing is the tactics involved. Because there are tactics, it makes things a bit more complex and a bit more interesting. Tactics can also make it that much more discouraging. Tactics are kind of like your dog -- sometimes you really really get enjoyment out of it; other times you wish you could flush it down the toilet (or go mountain bike . . . ha ha take that!!).

Road racing is to some degree like a combination of a poker, chess, and jousting. Being successful (or so others say) involves a bit of luck, a bit of brains, a bit of strength. If you only have one of these, you might win, but chances are slim. Winners (or so I've heard) usually have a nice combination of the three. And that's what make road racing fun -- you've got to get that combination just right. Getting that combination right is hard and may be affected by other factors, like number of teammates.

Perhaps an application might be a bit more illustrative. This weekend was the Bear Lake Road race, a 104 mile race involving a bit of wind and a few minor rollers. The Cat 3s really raced it this year -- lots of attacking and chasing. We had a relatively big field at 40 plus. We finished in under 4 hours.

Out the gates, team Cyclesmith went out fast, obviously banking on luck and strength, and perhaps minimizing brains -- 104 miles is a long long time to be in a break. Dumb, yes. Rippin' strong, yes. Luck required, yes. Didn't work out.

Several other attacks went. I think I bridged up to one of them. Dumb, yes. Strong, kind of. Luck required, yes. Didn't work out either.

There were a few more attacks. Then Drew Nielson (sp?) attacked solo. He hung out in the wind alone for several miles. Dumb, yes. Strong, super yes. Luck required, yes. Didn't work out either.

And so went the race, over and over again. Of course, as time and miles increased, the "dumbness" factor went down because the more likely it became that a break would stick.

Finally, a rider (Drew again) attacked, two bridged up, and the winning break was formed. Dumb, not so much, actually smart. Strong, yep. Luck required, yep. Gutsy (a facet of dumbness, depending on how you look at it), yes.

Of course, when the three rode away, the peloton collectively was thinking that the break was too small. The peloton therefore placed its bet: odds are that the break won't survive, dumb move, you're bluffing, we're not going to chase. We acted at our peril.

So, as the three got a bigger gap and it looked more and more like the break was going to stay away, and as the three started looking smarter and luckier and stronger, another set of options were presented: (a) sit in and save for the sprint, (b) participate in a chase, or (c) break away and hope that someone joined and that the pack would allow it.

Hard call. To choose (a) would mean that the break might stick and I'd lose all chances of contending for the win. Obviously it assumes that there is a possibility for actually winning or doing well. And I would look like a chump, sitting on wheels and not trying to race. Choosing (a) would place an emphasis on brains and luck, but not strength.

To choose (b) would likely mean I would end up working for those who chose (a), only to have those chumps outsprint and bury me at the finish. Unless you're my teammate Jake and happen to be riding really strong, in which case, you could both contribute to the chase and contend for the win or sprint finish. Choosing (b) would place an emphasis on strength. A little dumb? Yes.

Why dumb? Because as was the case on Saturday, your contributions might be in vain. The break may not get caught, and you'll have spent matches chasing, when they could be spent sprinting.

(b) also has a very high glory factor. Cyclists like warriors. Cyclists who are warriors get respect. If that's your goal, then choosing (b) isn't a bad thing.

Finally, regarding option (c). Option (c) is super high on the glory respect scale. It requires strength. It requires smarts. And it requires luck. It requires ALL THREE factors, so that's why it's so high on the glory scale. A true winner (so I hypothesize) would choose (c).

So, which option did I choose? Let's just say that I tried option (b) for a few pulls, but then realized I didn't have the necessary strength and that it was kind of dumb. So then I tried option (a). But with 2k to go, I threw all the capital I had earned by choosing option (a) out the proverbial window, and took a flyer with 2k to go -- kind of a half-baked option (c).

Based on my calculus of brains, luck, and strength, I never really committed to either one, but I more or less tried them all. I guess that in itself ups the dumbness factor.

So, back to BZ's comment. What's my point here? I like road racing because it's interesting trying to get the right combination. Chess, poker, jousting -- all at the same time.