Wow, I've been away from the blogosphere for quite some time now. I have reasons. Or maybe they're just excuses. Or maybe it's all just bullshit I've come up with to make myself feel better about not being active in this venue. Motivation to write about sweet biking excursions has been lacking. Maybe that's because the abundance of sweet biking excursions has been lacking. I haven't raced since August. This kills me. I shall plan better next year. Riding has been mostly mundane, hitting the same close-to-home trails that I'm now somewhat bored of. I am in need of a mountain biking adventure, BAD. Moab! Sedona!! Can you hear me!!?? But now as I sit here, sick in bed and watching a winter storm move from the mountains into Boulder, it seems like a good time to catch up.
This isn't to say that I haven't been riding. I've actually been riding a decent amount, very focused on next year, and enjoying a completely different type of riding than I'm used to. One that involves (semi)skinny tires, curvy handlebars, and road. Since I picked up a brand spankin' new Kona Jake the Snake about a month ago, my riding options have increased.
 |
| Above Ward, CO. |
Rides like this have taken precedent. One of the beauties of the Boulder area is it's close proximity to the mountains, and once a few miles into the mountains there is an endless maze of dirt roads that make for some incredibly riding. So there has been a lot of on-the-road exploration. My riding priorities have also changed a bit. The combination of nothing but sweet mountain biking and this summers' endless journeys, the closing down of some of my favorite riding spots in the mountains, and a new training focus has affected the way I look at riding. For God's sake, I hope this is a temporary faze. But in all honesty I've really been enjoying it. I've been focusing on building strength and power, and so a lot of my rides as of late have been shorter, more high intensity efforts. Through this I have been really pushing the physical limits of my body. Learning to dig deeper. And although the adrenaline rush isn't the same as riding buff mountain singletrack, the payoff in the form of results is very rewarding. Like I said, I still miss riding good trails like hell.
Maybe inspiration has been waiting. I've been waiting for it to come, and don't know if it will. One thing I've been waiting on is my custom Generic Cycles Ti single speed frame. Every time I think about it it gives me goosebumps. But the waiting has been making me a little stir-crazy. Add this to the fact that I broke my beloved Niner steel SS frame in October and have been singlespeedless since, and I'm getting down-right frustrated. Luckily I heard from Generic a week ago explaining the difficulties they've been having, and assuring me that my bike is on the way. I've also been waiting to hear back from any of the potential sponsors that I submitted proposals to. Its exciting and frustrating at the same time. We'll see what happens.
In the meantime, I wrote a season recap a short while back that I wouldn't mind sharing:
A year ago at this time I was
sitting in an office chair twiddling my thumbs and making mouse clicks. Unfortunately there was more thumb-twiddling
than mouse clicks. The decision to leave
Indiana was never easier whilst faced with an uninspiring design position at a
company with little future, and a growing passion for cycling with a little
grain of racing potential stuck in my teeth.
11 months has gone by and I’m still chewing. 11 of the most life-changing, inspiring,
eye-opening, adventurous, self-fulfilling, and exciting months of my life; leaving
me hungry for more.
Mountain biking in Colorado
took some getting used to. Or, shall I
say, my mountain biking synapse needed to be re-wired. All I knew was the play-pen that is Brown
County State Park. Perfectly manicured,
buff, super-flowy up-and-down well-designed trails. When I first started in CO I was confined to
front-range trails, mostly around the Boulder area. Anytime I had to jump on double-track, ATV
trail, or dirt road, the negative monster in my head started talking. He said “This isn’t mountain biking! Where’s
my singletrack mofo! Where are my trees
and dirt!” Luckily a couple of trips to
Moab, and one to Sedona, were enough to silence the monster. The mountain biking in these places is so
mind-boggling and unique that it’s almost unfathomable until you actually
experience it. Experiencing mountain
biking in so many different forms in such a short amount of time has almost
done the reverse of painting a new picture; it has wiped my slate clean. I thought I once knew what mountain biking
was. Now I haven’t a goddamn clue. I still yearn for the quality trails I used
to ride on, but also realize that the possibilities for a good day on the bike
are almost endless. You don’t need singletrack
for good mountain biking. In fact,
sometimes single track, if not intended for mountain bikes, is less than ideal;
cumbersome, frustrating, flow-less. Like
bad jazz.
I wasn’t even sure about
racing mountain bikes until this year, at the end of which I find myself in a
whirlwind of inspiration and desire for bigger and better races and places and
people. I didn’t know how I would stack
up against the competition in a state known for its mountain biking and outdoor
prowess. I remember telling myself a few
weeks before my first race in Colorado, “If I suck at this and it isn’t meant
to be, screw it.” Not that I was giving
up, but rather prepared to further pursue the non-race side of the sport; the
reasons we all do it in the first place, for the adventure and thrill. I wasn’t going to wallow in the muck of
mid-level racer for years and years. I’d
rather be out riding for fun. It just so
happened that I did well in my first race, and the rest is history. The seed was planted. It was an incredible year in which both the
racing and adventure sides of the sport seemed to have blended into a sweet
intoxicating mixed drink. An expensive
mixed drink at that. Racing afforded
(not fiscally, come on sponsors) me the ability to go to some truly amazing places. Places that I never would’ve imagined going
to a year ago. Places that I might not
have gotten to see if it weren’t for the racing scene in Colorado. For this I feel incredibly fortunate every
day.
My season in review:
I learned a lot this year about
racing. Some mental, some physical, some
emotional, some technical. Mentally, I
made strides this year, and continue to do so, that should benefit me
forever. I opened up the box that sets
limits and creates fear in your mind.
Kept closed, you convince yourself that you have reached your physical
limit or breaking point either in a race or training or riding for fun, that
you cannot go any further, any harder, or any faster. To open this box is to break free of all the
barriers and limits your mind is trying to set for you. In a real-world application, this means
continuing to push harder, blocking out the pain, even when you’re deep into
the pain cave. It takes a certain
mentality. You keep digging deeper and
deeper in the box, surpassing what you thought was physically possible. I have just recently realized this very
important idea, but if I can continue to keep the box open, there is no limit
to how much I may find.
Physically I need to improve
in various areas. Hopefully, with the
aforementioned mental improvements, the physical improvements will follow. I need to get more powerful. I feel like I lost a lot of power this
year. I don’t own any super-fancy and
super-expensive power meters, so I can’t say for sure, but it feels like I have
lost some of the pop that I had when riding in Indiana. This can be attributed to a few things. Riding at elevation is great for endurance
training and increasing your hematocrit, but I believe it has hindered my
ability to build power. In Indiana you have
all the oxygen your legs can handle, so you can produce mega power. At altitude your cardiovascular system is
working overtime, but still not able to supply your blood with ample oxygen,
therein reducing the amount of oxygen-rich blood going to your legs. This is my personal theory, but other
cyclists seem to concur. Or I’m just
being a wuss.
Nutritionally, I am always
trying to improve. This is maybe the
hardest part of the equation, and sometimes the least understood and most
neglected by cyclists, or athletes in general.
Simply knowing what types of foods to eat and when can make a huge
difference during training, while resting, and during a race. I still haven’t even come close to figuring
out this very nuanced part of the game.
That being said, I think I do better than many in this area, simply
because I am conscious of it at all times.
Emotionally, I think I have
taken the right approach to racing. I
ride for fun. I race for fun. It’s what I love to do. This keeps it interesting, exciting, and
enjoyable. Simply “training” all of the
time would drive me crazy. If I’m
“training” in Moab though; well, okay. I
also realized this year that having friends and family interested and present
at your events makes a huge difference.
It has given me an emotional boost like no other. Having that support, especially when people
went out of their way to be there, is priceless. I could tell the story of almost coming to
tears (during the race) the first time my parents saw me race, but I’ll save it.
To say that I did better than
expected this year would be a lie. I had
no expectations. I didn’t know what to
expect from myself, my competition, my equipment, the race courses, etc. It was all a movie I hadn’t seen before, and
I sure enjoyed watching it play out. Can't wait to see what 2013 will bring.
