Enjoy The Ride

That's it. No, really. That's the trail. I'm missing it right now. Granted, it's a marked snowshoe trail as well, but I don't think there's enough snow up there right now. I, nonetheless, may go up to visit it this weekend. We'll see.

So why is it my favorite trail? Well, I have my reasons. And here they are:

• Up until this year, I thought it was completely unrideable. "Too steep," I thought. "Physically impossible." Of course, then I went to the Rendezvous Hill Climb, and the entire course was steeper than what I considered "rideable." So then I went back to this particular trail, and, to my surprise, it was indeed rideable. In fact, I'm convinced that even the super-steep parts near the top are completely rideable, even though there's still one part that has forced me off my bike every time. I'll get it someday. That's what I keep telling myself, anyway.

• It's steep enough to hike. As in, if you walk up it, it's steep enough that you'd call it a "hike," albeit a short one. In fact, it's steeper than some of the hiking trails I've been on. Come to think of it, this trail was also the site of my first real trail run—which was pretty much the least painful and longest run I did all summer. I loved it.

• It's in a sort of gully that seems to constantly be green and lush and moist, except, I suppose, when it's covered in snow. But in the summer, as you ride up, you're completely insulated from wind, noise, you name it. It's just a beautiful trail in the sense that it's very rain forest-esque.

• No one is ever on it. Except during ski season. And this despite it being marked as a snowshoe trail. Anyway, if you go during the right time of year, there's no one there. It's just this lovely, peaceful trail.

Hmmm. Maybe I'll have to go visit this weekend. Perhaps a fun little hike would be the ideal race preparation anyway.

P.S. EIGHT DAYS TILL RACE DAY!!!!

It just seems as though there's SO MUCH going on, because, well, there is. It's supposed to be a very busy week at work this week, so that's going to add some stress. I've scaled back on weightlifting so I don't put too much stress on my body. I even took a nap today—that doesn't happen very often. I've resorted to striders, bounding and other form drills on top of my runs this week. I don't know for certain that's the best strategy, but I know that 19:19 came after a session of form drills and a hill run. Oh yeah, I'll probably throw a hill run in there too.

I've spent a lot of this past month sore, so I'm looking forward to moving past that and getting this race out of the way. It's odd: Even after all of this running, I feel tight and sore after virtually every run except, also odd, my fast runs. For whatever reason, running three miles fast doesn't hurt my joints, soft tissue or muscles as much as taking it slow.

Yep, recovery has been the name of the game through this whole process, and it hasn't come easy. I'm pretty sure I went overboard last weekend (run on Friday and weights and stationary bike on Saturday), and the results were a lot of fatigue, some moodiness and sensitivity, a little trouble sleeping and a few seconds more on my time on the three-mile run this week. The biggest takeaway from this entire training block is something I thought I learned a month ago: I can't kick myself when I'm down! Yep, I'm still dealing with that one. I just can't seem to hold myself back from doing too much and suffering the consequences. And with the race on the horizon, recovery is commanding my attention more than ever before.

P.S. We got our first real stuck-to-the-pavement snowfall today. I can't wait for that powder to finish falling so I can get the snowshoes out on the trail!

P.P.S. Here's some fascinating reading for ANY endurance athlete. The line that really intrigued me at first: "Good training and bad training look exactly the same on paper."

I just got in from a run. Nineteen minutes and nineteen seconds (19:19.8) for three miles!!! HECK-FLIPPIN-YEAH!!! I'm in the right territory, and I even felt like I was holding back a little!

Notes:

• Dehydration may not hold your performance back, but it will certainly kill your recovery and increase the chance for injury.

• Less is more: I've been taking it pretty easy on the running lately, and I think that's actually been a benefit.

• Strength training: I know I've mentioned this before, but I really think some high-rep strength work has helped lately.

As I came around the block toward my house after my run yesterday, I felt a familiar pain on outside of my left knee. When I was getting ready for my first pool-swim triathlon (the only kind of triathlon I've ever done), I had that same pain, but it was in my right knee then. It's called iliotibial band syndrome, or ITBS, and it can get pretty uncomfortable. I did the entire run of my first little triathlon (a 5k) with my iliotibial band stinging away.

I think the reason I get it is likely because of the curved shoulders of the roads I'm forced to run on. I tend to have one leg stepping lower than the other, which is a recipe for ITBS. Oddly enough, the first time I had it was in my right knee. Now I have it in my left.

So what do I do from here? I don't really know. I'll probably stretch it out, run on grass, do some hip-strengthening exercises, and hope for the best.

To add to that, however, I have just a few more rules for myself:

• Never run dehydrated—it's a recipe for injury. Make sure you're peeing white before you go out.

• Never kick yourself when you're down. It's okay to do two runs back to back if they're both EASY runs, but it's not okay to do a hard-easy. It's compulsive, and it's another ingredient on that recipe for injury.

I was sitting in an old-fashioned burger joint with my wife today when the song "uphill battle" came on the soundsystem. As I sat there, I started thinking about how the lyrics of that song relate to my own experience with climbing mountains on bicycles. Then I had an epiphany of sorts: "Wow, this DOESN'T describe how I feel when I ride AT ALL." It suddenly sunk in that I needed to rename my blog.

So what's the deal behind the new blog name? Well, honestly, I've come to believe that racing a bike is selfish. In fact, I'd argue it's anything BUT heroic. You take time away from your family and your job in the name of personal fitness. Where's the heroism in that? So why do I ride at all? Because I enjoy it. It's an indulgence. Really. If it were just about staying in shape, I'd be spending a lot more time with my weights than with my bike. If it were about winning every race, I would've quit a long time ago. I do it because I enjoy it; I enjoy riding my bike. And I enjoy being "the bike guy" in my circle of friends and acquaintances. Heck, I enjoy the feeling of my legs turning the pedals over and over. I enjoy seeing the places bikes take me—the summits, the valleys, the vistas, the greenery. I love what I see when I ride.

So does that mean my competitive fire has died? I don't know about that; I still plan to show up at a race or two next year. But I realized that when I ride—even uphill—it isn't a battle. It's an experience. It's fun. And that's really the only way I can justify it.

My legs felt rotten yesterday. I think it's actually because I ran two days in a row on Friday and Saturday (for us non-runners, the eccentric contractions of running can be pretty difficult to recover from). But my rotten-ness didn't keep me from running. In fact, I did a blind time trial approximating my race distance. I left my watch in my mailbox while I hammered out three miles. The result? 20:09.

You might be thinking, "Not bad; just 10 seconds to shave off." But, unfortunately, it's more like 30 or 40 seconds to shave off. See, the race is 3.1 miles. If I'd tacked on a 160-meter sprint at the end, that would've truly approximated the distance.

On the other side of the coin, though, I'm not bummed about the result either. I didn't have any splits along the way (which I will on race day), and I have four more weeks to really tune my fitness. Also, I think I've learned that I need to adhere more closely to these rules I'm setting for myself and prefer recovery to increased volume. So that's what I'm doing today: nothing. I might do a little core work, but I'm going to give my legs a chance to recover before Wednesday's workout. Also, I'm going to put the weights aside for the next four weeks. I have a few more specific strength drills to perform over the next few weeks—with the intention of even slightly increasing my stride length. We'll see how it goes!

Some inspiration for the meantime:

 

It's really sinking in that I don't have a lot of time remaining before the race. If I don't hit 19:30 at this one, I'm sure there will be another 5k somewhere sometime. I'd just like to really get it out of the way.

Unsurprisingly, I went out for a run today. The surprising part is that I also ran yesterday, so it would appear that I'm breaking my own rules. Well, I actually found a loophole. There's an elementary school about 100 feet from my house, and I realized that if I just go run on the grass, I can pull off running two days in a row. That knowledge should come in handy throughout the next few weeks. I'm hoping to put in a sub-20-minute 3-mile run this week. That's still not fast enough, honestly, but it should be a good precursor to a fast 3.1.

I was reading through some blogs the other day when I came across this list of recommendations on Chuckie V's triathlon blog (I figure that's appropriate since I'm a cyclist trying to figure out how to run again), and read this interesting bulleted list he wrote up. I didn't think it all applied to me, but there were a few points that seemed rather pertinent. I figured I'd share the ones I liked with the vast throngs who continue to check my blog on a minute-by-minute basis (I'm not really having hallucinations, don't worry). So here they are:

• "Train for your worst possible day, not the one you hope to have"

• "Train to want to be done"

• "Train to suffer"

• "Train to gut it out"

• "Train to resist fatigue"

Last night's two-mile time trial didn't go that great, but it could've gone worse. I pushed a little too hard for the first 3/4 and ended up walking briefly at about 1.5 miles. In the end, I stopped the clock at about 13 minutes which translates to a 20:12 5k, which is just a little too slow. I'm comforted, though, about the fact that I would've been faster had I not stopped running. Mental barriers like those are typically less difficult to surmount at races, I've discovered.

It's funny, though, for whatever reason, running just doesn't feel like I remember it feeling when I was in high school. I suspect it's because I have a completely different set of strengths now with my cyclist legs. My legs and lungs just don't hurt as much as I remember them hurting before, but they still aren't turning over as quickly as they did in my younger years. I'm wondering if that's related to the fact that I've spent so much time honing a completely different muscle-firing pattern.

The odd thing about this speed workout was that after I was done, I had this urge to go out and do more. Here I'd just blown my legs apart, and I wanted more. Instead, I went to my basement and hit the weights, which I hope will provide some dividend when I see the clock and have to sprint to get under 20 minutes.

What did I learn this time? Running for 13 minutes, even if done at a high pace, is easier on my body than running for 20 minutes slowly. I think my calves are still getting adjusted to this running thing, and I'm not sure what to do to accelerate that adjustment. I'm pondering pulling out the jumprope, but I'm not totally certain that would help.

Regardless, I'm down to five weeks (exactly) until race day. So it's probably time to start cranking out those regular speed workouts.

I came to some solid conclusions about training for a running race the other day. Now, granted, these are based on my own physiology and psychology, so consider yourself warned against listening to anything I say. But I think remembering these simple rules should help me get to the race uninjured:

• No Running Downhill Seriously, I can't do it. It just doesn't work for my knees. I've heard and read recommendations for downhill in order to improve stride length, etc., but my soft tissue can't take it. That, of course, presents me with the issue of how to come downhill after running uphill. Well, I'm probably not going to do too much uphill running in the next six weeks since my 5k race takes place on a basically flat section of pavement and concrete. So there: issue obviated.

• No Running Two Days in a Row By now, you're ready to diagnose me, huh? Let me save you the time: Yes, I tend toward soft-tissue injuries when running. If I were to give you my athletic history (which I couldn't fit into a nutshell, so I won't), you'd find that soft-tissue injuries have been a part of my life for as long as athletics have been a part of my life. That's why I usually ride a bike!

• Do Brick Workouts for Distance Days Part of successfully training for a 5k is increasing your cardiorespiratory endurance for that third mile. That means long runs—longer than five kilometers. For a cyclist-turned-runner, those long runs have a lot of potential for injury as well. So, to make up for it, I'll do a bike-run (what triathletes call a "brick") workout. I think there's more to this than just the cardio benefits, though. Doing the bike first will fatigue your bike muscles before you start running. So when you run, you have to rely on a greater amount of muscle recruitment. More muscle recruitment is a good thing, particularly for that third mile when you will have overexerted your primary running muscles. My opinion, I guess.

The real question now is, "Can I turn this into speed?" The paradoxical answer is, "If I can get my endurance up." It's going to take some fast running to really pull this off, and that's what I have planned for today: two fast miles. We'll see if I can keep my legs moving fast for the entire time. I'll like to pull in a sub-13-minute time today, but we'll see how it goes.

Yep, now that I've announced my athletic intentions to the entire world (I'm so sure there are so many people reading this, too), went home last night with a sore knee. So instead of running, I went to bed. This morning, I got up and jumped on the bike trainer for 20 minutes. Guess what: That hurt too. But I still did it.

So yeah, I'm injured. Already. One week in. How? Well, I'm pretty sure it resulted from running up and down this hill in my neighborhood on Tuesday, the day after my little running time trial. I can't seem to run two days in a row without getting hurt. I need to remind myself of that fact from time to time (when I start getting delusions of invincibility).

Then, to top it off, Joe Friel posted this little gem on his blog this morning. Let me give you the cliff notes version: If you've been injured or sick (check and check) in the 12 weeks (check) before your big race, forget about achieving peak performance.

I can't lie; I've been feeling a little frustrated about this today. But, you know, I think it all comes down to my race policy: Do what you can with what you have. Whatever fitness I can accumulate by race day will have to do. Whether that qualifies me for the sub-20 is only partially in my control.

I've said it aloud. In front of my boss's boss's marathon-running boss, no less. And a few other co-workers. Of course, only some of the even know what it means because you kinda have to do it to know.

I want to run the Thanksgiving Day 5k in less than 20 minutes. What the heck, let's say 19:30.

Now, you're probably wondering, "Why in the heck would you want to do a thing like that?" And that's a valid question. I read a comment under a column in the NY Times yesterday that stated, quite succinctly, my general take on marathons: "training for a marathon represents the triumph of ego over good judgment." And maybe that has something to do with my desire to run a fast 5k. But I think it's more that I know I can do it. When I was in high school, I used to run a 2.1 mile route in between sports seasons. I got my time for that run down to 12 minutes. In college, I had to do a 1.5-mile run for two separate fitness tests (once at the start of the semester and once at the end). For the second test, I ran it (sick with a cold—snot dripping from my nostrils) in 9 minutes flat. Also, I've run this same Thanksgiving Day 5k every year for the past three years now, and, if I recall correctly, my times have gone 22:35, 20:35 and 21:30. On the slower years, I started fast and then faded hard. On the year of the near miss, I was passing people in the last mile. I can do it—I'm convinced.

The beginning of an annual tradition (wow, I actually look tall in this picture)

Now, training: That's the big question mark in my plans. The year of the near miss, I was having my best cycling/time trial season. I'd taken the time to develop a base. I had more aerobic training in my system than I knew what to do with. Oh, and I also had only one child and a lot more spare time. Mind you, I've also achieved 6 min/mile speed (in high school and college) via anaerobic puke-worthy speed training. I used to know how to really make it hurt. That was before I got on the periodization bus. Now, I don't do a lot of "making it hurt."

But I figure that the proper training will really be a mixture of both. I'll have to do some hurting, I think (which will, I hope, lessen the hurting on race day). I'll also have to build up the aerobic capacity. So I'll be throwing in a few bricks, some 2-mile all-out time trials and some strength training. At least, that's my plan.

For all of you readers out there (whoa now, let's not totally overwhelm the MSN servers), I'm curious: Do you know anyone who's run a 5k that fast? What did he or she do? What kind of fitness background did he or she have beforehand? Really, I'm curious.

We got our first snowfall the other day. Call me an eager beaver, but I already moved my snowshoes from the basement to the garage. I started doing a little running on dirt roads near here because, hey, snowshoe running season isn't far off. I'm hoping to actually jump in a snowshoe race this year. We'll see how that pans out.

Looking back on this year's bike season, I have some observations and suggestions for myself next year. Now, I realize this is an enormously popular blog and my readership (Hi Boz! Botched, you still getting RSS feed?) sometimes overwhelms the Microsoft servers with their constant reading, but this post is really for me. So, yeah, go ahead and read it. I'm hoping that, in six months' time, I remember to read it myself and use it for next year.

• Advice: Spend more time at threshold. All right, I'm limited on training time. More specifically, I have only about three or four hours a week to ride my bike. But I've spent too much time in recent years working on the aerobic end of things. While that's good for the first half of the season, it's probably overkill in the six weeks before the race. I need to spend a little more time at functional threshold—whether on the trainer, in intervals, whatever. And actually, let's throw more trainer time in there too.

• Observation: Just getting to the race is an ordeal. Now, I love my family. I love them more than bike racing. Sincerely. But once in a while, it's nice to go to a bike race. So far this year, it's been nearly impossible to make it to a cycling race without some sort of fiasco along the way. Why? Because I want my family involved in the racing. I want spectators. Now, knowing that, I need to probably find some way to accommodate family members. I should also give them more advance notice and plan my races away from family vacations, etc. Scheduling races is already a bit of a fiasco (since my only job trip will likely take place on the same weekend as the race I would like to do next summer), but it would perhaps be less complicated if I could get the family team onboard in advance. How? I'm not quite sure. I guess I'll have to think that one over.

• Advice: Run some hills! Who cares about specificity?! When it rains, running the local hill is a good alternative to riding. Riding the trainer isn't such a bad thing either, but there's no reason to discount hill running. One of my better races this year (I guess two out of the three count as "better" races) was the WYDAHO race at Targhee. I'd spent the entire month before that race (June, in which we had rain almost every day) running hills to get ready for the uphill leg of Bone and Back. I didn't have the best run at the B n' B, but I climbed my way halfway through the next division by the end of the first hill in WYDAHO. To top it off, I stopped a bunch of times on the downhill for some FS folks, so heaven knows things could've been even faster if my fork had a little bounce in it.

• Advice: Lift some weights! Okay, now, devoting lots of energy to multiple-set hypertrophy-oriented weightlifting is probably not the best thing for a cyclist—mountain bike or road—during the race season. But doing a single set with a couple of different lifts just to keep the fast-twitch muscles firing is a really good idea. I abandoned running and weightlifting (and clipless pedals—dumb!) before my one and only not-so-hot race this year, and I was hurting at the end of that race. My legs felt a little shot, yes, but my shoulders were toasted. When I was riding, I was clinging to my handlebars like my life depended on it, and when I wasn't riding, I was walking and pushing my bike. My delts and my traps were hurting when all was said and done. Now, I've made some gear changes that should lessen the amount of bike n' hike I do next year, but the fact is that mountain biking is capricious. You need to be ready for anything.

• Observation: Recovery stuff works! I spent a bunch of time elevating my legs despite overdoing it in the last week before my last race. When I got to the start line, the legs ready to go. Mind you, I also took the day before the race off work and did some serious relaxing. One way or another, I was happy with the result.

Honestly, I'm happy about the way the season went. I sandbagged and won the first race I did (sandbagging = not so cool, but what's done is done), I bit off way more than I could chew and loved it at the second race I did (and got schwag that cost more than my race entry fee, how cool is that?), and then I walked away with an age group medal from the last race I did this year. That's not a bad season in my book.

Hold on now ... I have a book?

All right, someone did a blog search for Steve Larsen's "four-hour per week" training schedule as posted on Slowtwitch. It was that particular program that helped Steve clock a new bike course record at the California 70.3 event. If you happen to be the person searching for that program, let me just say that I thus far hadn't posted it. But I can. Aw heck, why not? Here it is (bike only):

"To ride fast, you have to ride fast. Uncomfortably so if you actually want to improve and get faster. Then position. A lot of strong riders give away free speed, but a good position will get you nowhere if you don't learn how to suffer and ride out of your comfort zone once in awhile."
Steve Larsen - dad, triathlete, mtbiker

Mon 2/11/08 Bike: Trainer, 30’, 10.5 miles, med/hard pace, 24 – 25mph, powercranks.

Tue 2/12/08 Bike: 90’, 30 miles, steady 130 -140 HR, w 15’ tempo 155-170 on hills home. Powercranks.

Wed 2/13/08 Bike: 90’, 32 miles, steady less than 140 HR, up to 155 for last 30’. Powercranks.

• Fri 2/15/08 Bike: 30’, 10.5 miles, trainer steady at 1300 -135 HR, powercranks.

Mon 2/18/08 Bike: 30’, 10.25 miles, 137 avg HR. Powercranks. Bike: 30’, with 8’ max sus. Speed test. 3.63 miles (27.22 mph), avg 167, max 184. Powercranks. Will base training intensity off this test.

Tue 2/19/08 Bike: 90’, 31 miles, 6 x 10’ x 3’ @ 24-24.6 mph, 90 -100 rpm, controlled hard 155-157 HR. Trainer. Powercranks.

Wed 2/20/08 Bike: 80’, 28 miles, 5 x 12’ x 3’ @ 24 – 24.5 mph. 155-158 HR. Trainer, Powercranks.

• Fri 2/22/08 Bike: 30’, 9.5 miles, easy with 7 x 10” sprints to 800 + watts.

• Sat 2/23/08 Bike: 120’, 42.5 miles, with 6 x 15’ x 5’ @ 24 – 24.5 mph. Trainer, Powercranks. Bike: 30’ @ 24 – 24.5 mph. Trainer, Powercranks.

• Sun 2/24/08 Bike: 30’, 10 miles, EZ, trainer, Powercranks.

Tues 2/26/08 Bike: 60’, 15 miles, hills, 6 x 5’ x 2’ uphill @ 336 watts avg. (320 -350 w range), HR to 160.

Wed 2/27/08 Bike: 155’, 59 miles, TT Bike, Powercranks, avg 22.1 mph, 137 HR. Steady.

• Sat 3/01/08 Bike: 165’, 42 miles, 9 x 10’ x 1’ @ 24 – 25 mph. trainer, powercranks. Bike: 60’, Hills, 15 miles, 6 x 4:40 uphill, 336 watts avg.

Tue 3/04/08 Bike: 70’, Hills, 5 x 6:00 uphill at 336 watts avg. Controlled pace, seated. Road Bike.

Wed 3/05/08 Bike: 63’, 25 miles, 3 x 20’ x 1’ @ 24 – 25 mph. Tough after morning hill run. Trainer, Powercranks.

• Fri 3/07/08 Bike: 30’, 10 miles, easy. Trainer, powercranks. Tired. Over did it wed.

• Sat 3/08/08 Bike: 30’ 10 miles, easy. Trainer, powercranks.

Mon 3/10/08 Bike: 150’, 50 miles, 142 HR avg.

• Wed 3/12/08 Bike: 145’, 50 miles, 143 avg. Much better than Monday. TT Bike, Powercranks.

Fri 3/14/08 Bike: 40’, 15 miles, 5 x 3’ x 3’ 370 watts avg. 27.5 mph. Trainer, powercranks.

Sat 3/15/08 Bike: 195’, 70 miles, 142 avg., build last 20’ on hills. TT Bike, powercranks.

Sun 3/16/08 Bike: 135’, 50 miles, avg 137 HR.

Mon 3/17/08 Can’t remember.

• Wed 3/19/08 Bike: 90’, 35 miles, 6 x 10’ x 5’ @ 24 -25 mph (330 watts), 155 HR on efforts. Trainer, powercranks.

Fri 3/21/08 Bike: 90’, 33 miles, < 145 HR. trainer, powercranks.

Sat 3/22/08 Bike: 315’, 105 miles, avg 140 HR, with about 40 -60’ @ 155-170 HR. TT Bike, felt good.

Sun 3/23/08 Bike: 140’, 52 miles, < 145 HR

• Tue 3/25/08 Bike: 30’, 10 miles, 5 x 1’ x 4’ (370w/200w).

• Wed 3/26/08 Bike: 30’, 10 miles, 6 x 4’ x 1’ (330w/200w)

Fri 3/28/08 Bike: 60’, 20 miles, easy.

Sat 3/29/08 CA 70.3 14th place, fastest bike split. No watch or HR Meter, by feel. Held back on bike and swim, could have gone 3’ faster on bike fairly easily, not sure what it would have done to my run. Felt good for about 8 miles of run, then faded (bonk) pretty badly.

So there it is. I'm actually struggling with a whole ton of congestion from a head cold at the moment, so don't count on anything interesting from me today. Just wish me luck on feeling better, would ya?

As I was driving down through Salt Lake City on my way to my in-laws' home in Utah before the Widow Maker Hill Climb, I looked over to the mountains and saw what would normally be a bad sign before a race: Dark, heavy clouds blanketing the ridges and hiding the peaks of the Wasatch Range. For me, however, this was a good thing to see. A little rain would reduce the amount of loose dirt and dust coating the trail the next day. Heck, a little mud might even increase the traction I'd be dealing with. So I was happy to see it.

I tried to point the rain out to my daughter, who was in her carseat in the back. She either couldn't see or didn't particularly care, or both, because she didn't have much to say. I'd brought her along to keep me company on the ride down and to give her an opportunity to play with her cousins—some of her best buddies. Later that night, she'd make me feel all special by turning down the opportunity to sleep with her cousins and insisting on sleeping next to daddy on a slow-leak mattress in the spare room. The mattress, as it turns out, was quite comfy. But my daughter's feet, which were shoved in my face most of the night, weren't. Adventures in parenthood, I suppose.

The alarm sounded far too early the next morning, and we got the kids—all three of them—into the backseat of my little half-dead car. Unca 'chard, my brother-in-law climbed in the front seat and off we went. An hour and fifteen minutes of engine-overheating, young-child-screaming commuting later, we were at Snowbird Resort and I was searching all over for a bathroom and the registration table. Luckily, I tracked that bathroom down in time and figured out where the race start was.

Hillclimb starting lines, I've decided, aren't like other starting lines. There's always a little self-deprecating humor involved—"Now, guys, remember, it isn't about who wins and loses."—and I must admit that I usually try to contribute some of that myself. Hillclimbs, which are never series races and never really attract the humorless, competitive crowd, are funny affairs. You never really know how much fitness is hiding behind the self-deprecating jokes. In fact, I don't think the rider himself ever really knows. After all, that's what we're there to find out.

Well, on Saturday, when they said "go," I found I was in okay shape, it seemed. I started moving my way through to the back of the lead group and was hanging there for a moment when someone in front of me shifted all the way down to his smallest gear and proceeded to plug up the only good line on the rocky, bouncy road. I hopped off my bike, and the first thought that popped into my head was, "I guess I can forget about riding the whole way up."

But it wasn't long before I was back in the saddle working my way up again. I looked behind me and was surprised to find a pretty substantial gap forming. I'd somehow made the front group—the back end, anyway—and was hanging all right. Then the course took us up underneath the first lift where our course converged with the course for a concurrent running race. Yeah, a bunch of runner/hikers were spilling onto the course, taking up the best lines and cutting riders off left and right. If I have one complaint about the race, this is it: I didn't like getting stuck in a group of iPod-eared trail hogs who were reduced to walking/hiking speed. Don't get me wrong, most of them were pretty considerate, but one of them, just one, decided to walk/run shoulder to shoulder with another on the only good line up one of the steepest parts of the course just as I approached. So, once again, I was off my bike walking ... for a really long time.

When the course finally presented an opportunity, I hopped on my bike and zipped past this person (who, once again, had spaced out from the group and was clogging the trail). In all fairness, I think this particular runner had a hearing aid and may, for all I know, have been legally deaf. But she also had an iPod in her ears and didn't respond when I asked to pass.

What followed was an alternating flow of hiking and riding with me jumping on and off my bike as the pitch overwhelmed my legs. I was caught by only one rider for the rest of the race, and that one rider, who I rode beside until I could simply ride no more, was spinning an easier gear—easier than my easiest gear. I realized right then that I should've borrowed my wife's cassette (which has a 32-tooth cog for its largest ring, as opposed to my largest—a 30-tooth) for this race, something I'd considered doing. I'd read blogs before the race where people claimed to have ridden the whole course without putting a foot down (at a slower total time than I rode on Saturday), and when I saw this rider pass me, I suddenly understood how that was possible.

I managed to ride the final few switchbacks, and when I hit the finishing mat (in front of my little girl), my time was a full 15 minutes faster than I'd expected—despite all of my walking. We enjoyed the wind, the cold and the food for about a half hour waiting for the award ceremony. To my shock and amazement, they gave me a second-place medal for my age group. Later, I realized that I'd actually come in third, but my age group winner, Nate Pack, had come in third overall, so our awards got shifted a little. One way or another, I couldn't believe I was coming away with hardwear from this thing! I chatted at length and made buddies with Heather Holmes, who represented the US of A at the Mountain Bike Marathon World Championships just a few weeks ago, and I rode the tram down with the race winner, 13-year-old Justin Griffin. I met some really cool folks, as I almost always do at mountain bike races.

In the hours that followed, I did all the stuff you shouldn't do when trying to recover from a hard race—waited hours to eat, ate only a couple of slices of pizza, drove a few more hours to Idaho, didn't drink nearly enough water, etc. I was dragging my rear when I got home, but my wife gave me the cold stare and informed me that the two of us would be attending the church social that night. I love my neighborhood, and I sincerely enjoy spending time with the people I know in my church congregation, but sometimes I feel like I don't totally fit in. Take this event, for instance. It was a potluck dinner (normal) followed by a clay pigeon-shooting party (not normal). I'm not a gun guy. They're okay, I suppose, but, as I tried to explain to the folks who asked, "where I come from, good Mormons don't have guns; drug dealers and criminals have guns." I got a few laughs out of that one. I kept thinking back to the award ceremony earlier in the day. I'd yapped at length with some pretty cool people at the race. And we had plenty to talk about—training, riding, racing, bike tech, etc. "Those was my people," I thought to myself.

That thought was interrupted by the sound of my wife blasting a clay pigeon with a shotgun. Yup, my wife's awesome. So I attempted to join the gun party. One guy had brought a couple of handguns, including a competition magnum 357 pistol. Perfect. So I went over to that section and fired a few bullets through a target. Pretty cool, I guess, but still not my thing. When the shotguns were put away and we could safely leave the property, the two of us headed home and I conked out. I'd need some sleep, after all, because snowshoe season is only a few months away.

I'm all registered for a race this weekend—pretty much the last race of the season. After I finish up with this, I'll have the family 5k race on Thanksgiving morning, and then it's on to snowshoe season. So with this race I thought I'd try a little experiment: a short taper. See, usually, I'll do a few really light sessions on the bike during taper week. But this time, I figured I'd ramp it up a little. I kept everything aerobic, but I cranked out 2 hours and 15 minutes on the TRAINER between Monday and Wednesday. Now, bear in mind that a normal training week for me consists of three hours total training time (four or five if I'm really lucky), and that training on a trainer is typically more stressful and non-stop than training on or the trails (because you never stop pedaling).

I know, I know: WHY on earth would anyone want to overtrain the week of a race. Dumb, right? Well, maybe it was. I dunno. We'll find out this week. If I keel over dead at the race, you'll know this wasn't the best approach. But here's my justification for my wacky tapering strategy:

1. I'm not really limited by resting time. I sit at a desk and stare at a computer for 40-45 hours a week. Wow, it's depressing to see that in writing. But it's the truth. I'm not limited by resting time, so taking extra resting time would be a little silly, don't you think? It's not like I'm some Ironman™ triathlete who's cranking out 25 hours of training per week. I'm limited in the amount of actual time I can spend riding my bike. So why add more resting time to an already resting-saturated schedule? Besides, I'm taking Thursday off on riding and Friday off of work and riding, and I'm not totally stressed out with work or life right now. So why not take advantage? (Famous last words?)

2. Experience is telling. I've done this before and expected to run my body into the ground. It was for a reverse triathlon relay in 2004 (yes, a long time ago). I put in a bunch of pretty intense sessions almost every single day except the day before the race that week. On race day, I didn't really have to face any daunting cyclists, so I'm not totally certain how to interpret my results. But we won the relay and the overall by about 6 minutes. I can't say for certain, but I'm pretty sure I rode five minutes-plus into the next guy. Now, granted, he wasn't a cyclist, but in all fairness, that was my first season too, and I'd spent most of it taking on pretty short distances. My situation was similar back then to how it is now—that race was the second week of October and I'd slacked off for a few weeks in advance. Instead of ruining my fitness that week, I'd woken my muscle fibers up, and they responded pretty well. I'm hoping for a similar adaptation this week.

3. The closer you get to a race, the more your training is supposed to simulate your race ... except for your taper, of course. At least, this is what I've read from various coaches, etc. And riding a trainer is going to be more similar to riding uphill than the relatively flat outdoor riding I'd be doing, I think.

I have a policy with regard to racing: Do what you can with what you got. This stems from the oft-repeated cliché "when the time for (racing) is here, the time for preparation has passed." So whatever preparation I've done, whether adequate or inadequate, will have to suffice, and I'll have to just trust in it and do what I can with what I got. After all, there's not much I can do come race day.