Adding my race schedule to the extensive winter training and teaching schedule kept me enjoying life on two wheels like never before. For almost three years I was in the best shape of my life, and both race results and training rides were at their peak. Then it happened… the combination of getting sick in the middle of winter training this year and deciding to spend 100% of my time building a new Indoor Cycling franchise took my training to an all time low. Basically, I returned to what I did before I met Sally Edwards and the Keiser m3… I just rode. As I saw my abilities decline, I fell into an old way of thinking; to wit… I better ride more, I’m starting to get worse out here.

This is what I and most of my riding buddies did to “get better” before Cycling Fusion. We just rode more, or did more climbing. Unfortunately, it never really translated into very big improvements, yet it was all we could think of. So guess what happened. Past patterns translated into past results – no significant improvements and a return to pre-Heart Zones®, pre-Power training levels. I have a saying I stress to my students and team members. If you train right, the results will be easily seen and felt – you will either go faster, or suffer less. My riding in France… let me start that again. My attempting to ride in France for Global Ride (see pained rider in photo) was the event that forced me to admit the truth: I’m neither going faster, nor suffering less, even when I go slow… basically, I just suck right now.

For a while, I tried to explain it (translate blame it) away on a variety of situational factors. Truth be told, I just stopped training. Training does indeeed take hard work, and committment. You can’t cheat your training and hope everything will turn out alright, like some kind of workout fairy will sprinkle performance dust on you while you sleep at night. It’s simple… start training again, or stop crying in your beer. The fact is, I’m going to suffer in the hills, and keep getting dropped by my buddies until I decide to start working for it again. Argh… I hate starting over like this, but this stuff works in both directions – conditioning or DEconditioning. The choice lies before me.

Another way to look at it in turns of your overall training plan, is that it is time to move into the “specificity” portion of your training. If you are just beginning riding outside, or if you are a veteran that still races, the mission is the same – start practicing the skills you need, in the environment you intend on riding or competing in.

It goes without saying that there are significant differences in equipment, environment, clothing, fueling, etc that you must begin to account for when riding outside. If you are planning on anything over 30 miles or so, you need to begin experimenting with the right combinations of all the above… to get it “dialed in” so that when you are cranking out the miles, you are comfortable on the bike. The indoor cycling training will have prepared your heart and cardiovascular system if you’ve followed good Heart Zones® principles. If you’ve been working out on a Keiser m3 or other bike with power, your legs and power should be close enough to handle most of the climbs. However, your butt has probably not had more than 2 hrs in the saddle indoors. You will need more saddle time for those longer rides, and the impact on your back, neck and shoulders also can not be underestimated. You need road or trail time to get the body accustomed to the small adjustments it will make, including unconscious acts of balance and stability, as you ride. In other words, your body needs to learn the roads and trails again now that you’ve prepared your fitness to handle it.

This does NOT mean abandoning indoor cycling. You still can’t find a more efficient place to work on measuring and improving power, and it is vital to do at least 1 steady state Heart Zones workout each week to keep the cardio system in tune. The difference now, is that you will do longer steady states in higher zones, and the power workouts will be more precise too – in other words, you will workout for shorter periods indoors, but they will be much more intense, giving you the biggest bang for your buck, or shall we say the maximum movement for your minute.

That lead me to spend the $900+ to go and participate in the “Challenge Ride” in Austin, TX.  It is the year’s final charity ride that raises money for the foundation, and those who have raised more than $10K get invited to this “Event within an event” called The Ride for the Roses (RFTR).  It would be a time to see first hand, the community of “soldiers” fighting this good fight, and to renew my faith in the system (when you get as big as the Lance Armstrong Foundation, it’s definitely a “system”) and the cause.  Well, it did all that and more.  The stories I heard from single individuals, families, and larger groups were both inspiring and heart wrenching at the same time.  It became more and more apparent that this disease affects (directly or indirectly) virtually everyone on the planet.  We need this level of effort to beat it back.

On Saturday night there was a big dinner for the RFTR participants.  Lance spoke as well as a number of other award winners from the current year.  There were messages of how folks struggled together, and raised both money and awareness, and found new ways to contribute something extraordinary to this fight.  I was also priviledged to meet 6 time Leadville 100 winner Dave Wiens.  He was in town to help layout a MTB race course on Lance’s property (sort of like Jack Nicholas designing a golf course right?).

No, Dave is not standing on a stack of books

Outside of needing this renewed hope and confidence, I also wanted to have some fun on the Sunday ride with Lance (and about 4,000 other riders).  Saturday they put my bike together (part of the super service they extended to RFTR participants)  I took the bike for a spin to check it out, and asked them to just adjust the handbars slightly upward after I came back.  They did, and I was all set.

The day of the ride, we were told that we could stage “up front” as a part of our perks as a RFTR participant.  Cool!  My number 1 objective was to ride just a few miles with Lance.  Even if I had to bury myself to do it, I wanted a few minutes riding with the big guy.  Well, I not only got myself up front, but I some how “mistakenly” got up in the super front with the Fatty folks who raised the highest amount for the year.  I was so ready!

As time went on though, more and more “special VIP” type folks came in, slotted even further in front, and now I was about 7 rows back.  I figured that was ok, because that could be easily made up for on the bike.  However, once Lance showed up, and said a few words, he and just the first two rows took off, and the rest of us were held up – for what seemed like an eternity (I think it was actually only 10 or 15 minutes).

I was so close... until the SPECIAL VIPs filled up the front of the front

Now I was getting nervous.  I’ve had no warm up, and I’m going to have to chase down a lead group with a 15 minute head start, with LANCE setting the pace!  YIKES!!!  I was undaunted though.  As soon as they let us go, I started finding my way around the pack and within seconds the trains started to form and fly.  I hooked on to every group of riders I could hang with.  We were averaging between 25 and 30 mph through the flats, and in less than 5 minutes I was already anaerobic!  Yikes, I didn’t know how long I could keep burying myself like this, but I wasn’t going to back off now.

Then I noticed how my handlebars were just a little to far forward and down.  I thought I had them adjust that yesterday, but it still wasn’t’ right.  I wasn’t going to worry about it at this pace.  I decided it could wait till after we catch the big guy to make any bike adjustments.  SO… flying along we went, and then we hit the first significant decent, and the pressure to go fast just increased.  As I pushed it into a higher gear and started pedaling even faster downhill, it happened… my handlebars came completely loose and flopped forward and down, as if they were about to fall off.  This was WAY too much déjà vu from my first crash for me, and so I slowly and gently reached way down for my break levers, and squeezed them just enough to slow me down and pull over.  WHEW!!! No crash, and unfortunately, no chance of riding with Lance.

While not one of the teams that FLEW to catch Lance, one of the many "gravy trains" of the day

I was still grateful to be in one pieces, so I continued to ride enjoying an awesome day with the fastest group of “charity riders” I have ever ridden with.

I had one particular “special moment” during this ride that was almost too perfect.  I was at the end of about 60 minutes of riding just below threshold, looking at one of the modest climbs ahead, but not feeling so great because of the pounding I was doing with no warm up.  As I hit the bottom of the hill, I realized I hadn’t even turned my music on (virtually a sacrilege in my book).  I flipped it on, and the song “Stand Up” by Remedy Drive came on.  After a short intro, I found my climbing legs, the lyrics found their way to the chorus “Stand up now, they can’t hold us down“, which got me right up out of the saddle (my preferred climbing position).  If that wasn’t enough,  just as I was nearing the top of the climb, the next song “Daylight is Coming” (by the same group) came on, just as the sun started peaking through the trees at the crest of the climb… it was such a “moment”, I had to thrust my hands in the sky and just thank God that I was there in that place at that time, lovin’ life!

That gave me renewed enthusiasm to continue the sufferfest.  By the end of the 2^nd hour though, I was in some serious pain (thinking it was hip at the time, but now know it was probably weak muscles from the hip replacement).  I wasn’t sure I would finish, and I met a young lady who was in the same boat.  As we bemoaned our mutual situation, we agreed to ride to the finish together and keep things “under control”.  I’m sure the consistent hammering was what got me into trouble in the first place.

We hobbled across the line together

Finally, at the line, I met Fatty himself (from the Fat Cyclists blog fame) – being the generous guy he is, waiting to meet each of his team members as they crossed the line.  While I’m not one of his team, I couldn’t resist taking a picture with him… after all, it was I who took the picture of his sister and DELVIS (which he blogged about this week as well).

All in all, it was a fantastic weekend, and encouraged me to double my efforts for next year.  Within hours of returning home, I completed my last blog post giving the top 10 reasons to do the Giretto in 2010.  If you haven’t considered it, NOW is the time!

How is it that I obviously out weigh a guy named "Fatty"

Whew… (pant, pant, pant), that felt good, I’m glad I’m wearing my heart monitor. No really, I am steaming mad. I’ve seen our roads steadily decline in quality and appearance over the last several years, all in the name of cost savings, with this idiotic, and completely deceitful program of tarring and chipping. I’m not alone in my disgust and outrage either. Jon Schmitz of the Pittsburgh Post Gazette wrote on this very subject just 2 months ago.

It’s not really cost savings, it’s COST SHIFTING, and the tax payers are getting double dipped. No one has lowered our taxes since they started this program, so from where I sit it hasn’t saved me ditly squat. We certainly don’t have a higher percentage of good roads to drive on – they are in worse shape than ever, with many of them “first generation” tar and chip roads that didn’t last a season. But the real reason every driver in PA should be up in arms is the additional cost this has added to every driver who has to endure these conditions every day. Here is how they have added to what we Pennsylvanians pay:

1. No reduction in taxes, despite claims of astronomical savings
2. Greater wear and tear on our tires (already subject to normal PA potholes), now the rough surface is wearing out our tires about 20% faster than in previous years
3. Worse gas mileage when the price of gas continues to fluctuate into the stratosphere. This is something we suffer on a day to day, week to week basis.
4. More body repairs from chipped paint that results from flying stones kicked up from recently chipped roads
5. More frequent under carriage treatments because of the constant beating the underbellies of our cars take
6. Greater health care costs for the accidents caused by these loose gravel conditions (especially with motorcycles).

You think I’m “reaching” with my ranting here – I am not. The International Research and Technologies published a book called “Surface Characteristics of Roadways”, where it is stated “Rational pavement management requires that any decisions regarding construction and maintenance policies to take due account of their consequences on the national economy, thus including consideration of vehicle operating costs.” You can read the exerpts from the book yourself by clicking on the link.

Look what they are covering, a good road! Why not fix the CRAP roads!?!

These just represent the cost shift to us. It doesn’t even touch the inconvenience, and unpleasantness of driving on the stupid things. I don’t care what car you drive, these roads will NEVER give you a “quiet ride”. It’s like riding your MTB on the road or on your trainer at home – deafening at times. And forget about that SMOOOOOOTH ride you used to like on _____________ (fill in the blank) road. Whatever road it was, wherever it was, your smooth ride is no more.

But wait, it’s not just a cost or convenience issue either, it’s also an Environment issue. We are being bad stewards of our environment if we allow the state to keep up with this destructive practice. In the same book as referenced above (and there are other references one can find throughout the internet), the rolling resistance can be higher by a factor of 2X, thereby requiring more energy to overcome it, thereby requiring more FUEL to generate that power. The result is an average additional 9% in fuel consumption!! Is that what we are supposed to be doing to limit our dependence on foreign oil?!?!

If these weren’t enough reasons to make you HATE this practice, we haven’t even spoken about the hopeless souls on two wheels. I’m talking about motor cycles here. The danger factor just increased by about 25% with all this loose gravel on the road. Add the fact that PA in its infinite wisdom, repealed the helmet law a few years back, and you have the good makings for a head trauma unit needed now in every local hospital. I suspect even cars have had more than one incident due to the loose surface of these roads, but on two wheels, it’s not a matter of IF there has been a Tar and Chip caused accident, it’s only a matter of HOW MANY.

Doesn't that look like FUN to ride on?

Of course, the group really taking it… uh… on the chin… is cyclists, bike riders. We may not be motorized, but we still pay our taxes, and according to law, we are legitimate users of the infrastructure. Now, even if we wanted to ride on the birm if it is wide enough, we can’t – there is so much loose CRAP there (95% from tar and chip), that it’s simply not safe enough. We are hence, forced to keep it well into the road, and still keep a watchful eye. This doesn’t even begin to touch the uncomfortable aspects of riding your bike on tar and chip. Try to imagine 120 lbs of tire pressure on a surface like the moon; only this moon surface is just miniature enough that you feel every single bump on every single inch you travel.

Whatever road rage you’ve seen from impatient drivers, it can’t equal the road rage felt by cyclists who not only have to ride on these roads every time they want to recreate, but who keep seeing more and more of their “smooth” routes destroyed. For me, if they don’t stop this in PA, I’ll be moving my tax money to a different state as soon as I possibly can!

There… I feel better now.

When you are a mediocre climber (actually I suck), you learn to go fast down hills so you can keep up with the group in front. So it’s a familiar pattern, get spit out the back on the climb, tear down the hill to catch up, repeat… and so it goes. On this one particular hill, I could see the two in front just at the bottom of the hill as I crested. So, I stood up, took a few feet to shift into the highest gear I could, cranked it up while beginning the descent (to around 37 mph or so), settled in the drops, looked up and HEELLLOOO– a big 90 degree bend in the road is 20 feet in front of me. I must have had my head down too long cranking and getting in the drops – completely misjudging how close I was to the bottom of the hill and the bend.

I knew if I tried to skid and lean into the turn I was going to put it down in the lovely moonlike tar and chip road that Pennsylvania is famous for. So instead, I headed for the bank. With a flash of Michael Rasmussen going through my brain, I planted my shoulder in the middle of the bank, and at that speed, instead of just sliding forward and over the handle bars like Rasmussen did in the 2007 TDF, I bounced about 6 feet in the air and landed on the road. The rest was uneventful – I just slid, skid, rolled and otherwise flailed about till my body came to a stop.

I never lost consciousness, but as I sat up, I couldn’t immediately figure out if what just happened was real, or just a bad dream. I had a little pain on my left side, but then it hit me… LOOK AT MY SHORTS! I had just gotten this team kit from Italy, as my only take away from the “Giro d’ Italia. My first thought was – “These better come clean”. I know, the guys are groaning right now, and the women totally understand. I can’t help it if I’m in touch with my “fashion” side.

Seriously though, I was truly blessed to not have been seriously injured. Right after the fashion shock, I checked my hips, and thank God, they suffered no trauma whatsoever – a definite miracle for someone with 2 artificial hips. This is one more reason why the surface replacement ROCKS! If you would see the size of the ball and socket of my prosthesis compared to the “traditional” hip, you would understand how it could take that kind of impact and not be damaged – it’s bigger, sturdier and built for an active guy like me.

After receiving a lot of Twitter and Facebook family love on line, I returned home to lots of phone calls of folks praying for a speedy recovery. These prayers were the real thing because I have a picture of my shoulder blade sticking up by a quarter inch above the top of my arm, and by Sunday night it was smooth as a baby’s bum. God was continuing to bless me. I say if you ask for prayer, you give Him credit when they are answered, right?

Don't hate me because I'm stylish

I saw the ortho doc on Monday and he told me despite the shoulder separation, I would not need surgery there – and time itself would heal it. I would however need a cast for the broken wrist for about 6 weeks. Since the 6th week would take me right into the only team road race I had planned for the year, I made sure she used my team colors for my cast (come on, it’s important to honor your sponsors right?). I’ll probably begin teaching indoors next week, but I’ll stay off the outdoor bikes until the race – I still want to catch those guys ☺.

This time however, was completely different. Doing “portions of stages” is customary for touring groups who cherry pick the most scenic sections, at more “forgiving” distances. Stopping for a hot lunch to break up the day, and riding only a few stages per week, is certainly a lot of fun, and the mountain climbing is still hugely challenging, but it simply can not produce the feelings we got from riding the Giretto.

This not only required a great deal more training and preparation in every facet, but the experience was much more like being part of the race instead of just a spectator. I would venture to say, there is no other race (certainly nothing on the scale of a Grand Tour), that offers an amateur cyclist the feeling of actually being in a professional race like the Giretto has done for our inaugural team.

Typical scene as we enter every little citta'

The Italians are as crazy about cycling and their Giro d’Italia, as the French are about the Tour De France… but the difference is what makes this Giro approachable and inviting for the “total immersion” experience. The Italians are as laid back as the French are uptight. I know I’m making sweeping generalizations, but when one covers over 400 miles, and countless cities big and small in the country, generalizations are indeed in order.

Once the actual routes are made public in the Italian news each year, cities begin to anticipate and prepare for the arrival of the most popular and important cycling event in Italy. Cycling as a sport is second only to soccer nationally, and virtually every city, big and small, has their own local cycling team for local city to city competitions. Youth soccer clubs in the U.S. are matched in numbers by youth cycling clubs in Italy. We saw many groups of young road and MTB cyclists in team kits riding and waiting for the pros to come through as we grinded out our kilometers.

From almost the start of every stage, we were greeted with cheers from spectators, getting their tables, chairs, vino, bread & cheese out and ready for the race – tailgating the Italian way! The closer we got to each destination city, the closer the pros would be coming behind us (closing the time gap we began each day with), and thus the more excited the crowds became. They were ready… had been ready for months, and well, we were the “opening act”. What else do they have to do, but cheer for us, and cheer they did! Did it matter that we were not a part of the official race – not at all. Did it matter that we were not even an “officially sanctioned” event by the Giro organizers – not in the slightest.

The locals embrace cycling in all its forms, and seemed to truly appreciate us riding in formation, and picking up speed through every little town leading to the finish line. While cars and spectators are consistently shuffled off the roads, and even parked cars “taped in” so they can’t be moved, we as a group continued to be given the green light; figuratively and literally.

Imagine the scenes you’ve seen watching the Tour de France on TV, and now put yourself in that scene… on the bike, crowds cheering (maybe not running along side), but at least cheering “Vai! Vai! Forza, Forza! (Go! Go! Come on! Ride Hard!). Imagine flying through towns, decorated to the hilt for the race, giant banners, balloons and home made signs everywhere you look. Imagine the feeling when you’ve started at the same “Partenza” as the pros, and are arriving at the same “Arrivo”. Could there be any other situation that would get you closer to this “pro-like” experience? This only happens for a few hours each year – the day the Giro comes to town, and just a few hours in front of the pros. Of all the riding, indoors and out, and in all the places in the world where I have ridden, none compare to the Giretto. It was the smallest window of opportunity and the biggest experience I’ve had on 2 wheels.

Many folks may not realize it, but the century ride I did earlier during my training for the Giretto was my first ever. The only rides I have done for more than around 50 miles in one day were supported with multiple stops for refueling and rest. So when I decided to do the Giretto, it was no small decision – this will be performance at a level I have never even gotten close to.

SO… I bonk last week, and I focus on getting my fueling right the night before and the morning of this weekend’s ride. I did only a modicum of research on electrolyte replacement, as I felt just one tablet in my water bottle would take care of each half of the ride – that turned out to be less than 50% of what I should have taken. Then on top of underestimating the electrolytes needed, I did not believe the rep from Hammer that I needed to drink the quantity of replenishment fluids he recommended. I knew it was more than twice what I normally drink, and I was afraid I would become bloated and upset to my stomach. Consequently, I didn’t take enough with me, didn’t drink enough, and on top of that the temperature reaches the high 80s, making it the hottest ride of the year. At about 3.5 hrs in, I imagine my muscles sending out a distress signal “Houston, we have a problem”.

From the extensive reading I have since done on the issue of cramping (the remainder of my weekend) it is clear that such excessive heat is quite commonly associated with severe cramps. I did not give the weather a second thought, except for how to dress, not for how to adjust my replenishment. To add to the ambient fun, the wind kicked up to ridiculous levels as our direction turned us towards home. At times we were standing on the flats just to stay in double digits for speed.

My first clue that something bad was going to happen was when we were pacelining while Nina was pulling the train through some rollers. I made the mistake on a previous training ride of telling her that if she was going to lose too much momentum on the climb, as the leader, she should drop back and let someone else pull. Hence, she was determined not to lose much of any speed coming up the hills this time. In fact, it seemed like she went faster as we climbed further. In an effort to not get “dropped” by my “little girl”, I cranked the pedal too hard for my muscle’s condition at the time, and it seized up. I was forced to stop pedaling immediately, and had to catch up after about 30 seconds of recovery. I was proud of Nina putting the hammer down, but didn’t think too much of the cramp given that it didn’t last long.

The next “warning sign” came as my left hamstring (which I had been nursing the week before) started to cramp – my first full blown cramp where I had to get off the bike and walk it out. After it passed, I got back on the bike and my buddy Bill stayed with me as we rode for a few more miles. As we finished just under 60 miles and 6,000 feet of climbing (with an average of 15mph) it happened. All 4 muscles I mentioned above seized up like alligator jaws on pig bait. I jumped off the bike and must have looked like a lunatic, screaming in pain and walking randomly through a local resident’s front and back yard like the scare crow since my leg muscles couldn’t bend. My heart rate kept rising till I could hardly breath, and finally I collapsed in the grass praying that the pain would stop. It wasn’t a pretty sight. I laid on my back and couldn’t move for the next 20 minutes. Once my muscles released, I told the group to go on ahead and come back in the truck to pick me up. I could hardly walk for the next several hours.

I debated sharing the gory details with my readers. Will they think I’m an idiot? I should have known better, etc. This actually may all be true, but I’m laying it out here anyway to let people know that you can’t leave anything out of your training. I was downright derelict in not learning enough about the proper fueling, nutrition, and physiological effects that would happen to me as I attempt riding, climbing and pushing my body beyond its comfort zone. Use this as a warning to not let it happen to you. DO YOUR HOMEWORK!

For myself, I was feeling great during the first two hours…then it happened. The dreaded BONK. It wasn’t all of a sudden, but a bonk it was. Despite stopping to take on some light “fuel”, I continued to get weaker and weaker. By the time we hit 50 miles and 5,000 feet of climbing, I knew I was full-on bonked out. Legs felt fine, heart rate was comfortable, (hardly going into zone 4 even on the climbs), and I was well hydrated. And yet, I kept getting slower. Our average for the first 30 miles and 3500 ft of climbing was a comfortable and respectable 15 mph. Now I was struggling to maintain 12 mph, and the group continued to move ahead, waiting for me every 8 to 10 hills or so. Frankly, it was embarrassing.

This gave me plenty of time to think and analyze what happened. I felt like such a rookie – I made some classic mistakes; mistakes I would warn others against with even the simplest advice. First, I had the wrong kind of meal the night before. Instead of a heavy laden carb meal, I had a light mediteranean meal. My ride the previous day was not taxing, and I just felt like eating light – but I didn’t even think about “pre-loading” for the next day. In the morning I ate a larger than normal breakfast – not as heavy in carbs again as it should have been, but at least more fuel than normal – problem was that I ate at 9:30, and our ride didn’t start till almost 12:45 – that’s more than 3 hrs later, and all I had between then and the start of the ride was 1 banana. In fact, I felt hungry as we were getting ready to ride – the cardinal sin in my opinion for starting out on a long ride. All of this lead to my last and final fueling mistake – when we stopped, I didn’t take on enough fuel, as my stomach was actually queasy from not eating enough, and I didn’t “feel like eating”. Hence, my refuel was more of a sniff of gas fumes rather than putting enough in the tank to get me home.

The final 15 miles of the ride were good for one thing though; I got to put my mental training to good use. Despite the overwhelming feeling to just stop pedaling, get off the bike and take a nap, I kept going. Right leg, then left… 10 mph, then maybe 11… just don’t stop, whatever you do. It was a battle, but I finished.

Seeing Nina get stronger as the ride went longer did give me real inspiration in the end though. I was truly impressed with her conditioning and riding. She is ready for the Giretto… now she just needs to maintain it, stay focused, and do the right amount of tapering before the event. For me, I’m going to rethink a few things and get back to you on my course of action. Stay tuned for the next blog from Mr. Bonk.

Despite the lack of teamates and the weather though, I was undaunted and ready to see if my strength and interval training indoors for the last week was going to pay off. Within the first 15 minutes we hit our first climb – a steep switchback that would put us both over our anaerobic threshold for more than 2 minutes. It hurt, but wasn’t unfamiliar. From that point on, it was a climb fest of major proportions. The hills kept on coming, short, steep and relentless. This is the sore part – my legs and hips were feeling immediately sore and yet my aerobic engine was strong – so we pressed on. Had I not forced myself to use high resistance training indoors, my soreness would have been suffering of the major proportions kind. As it was, I could still push through it, and do it at a higher speed than ever before. We averaged 15.1 mph in the “climb fest” section of the ride! I was stoked…sore, but stoked.

We finally hit our first straight and almost flat section, and this is where the sorry came in. I got to thinking about Raquel and how she must be feeling now – virtually overnight becoming a cancer victim. She was the one that first showed me just how good indoor training can be if done correctly. She was the 5th rider of the Giretto, to join our proof of concept and the fight against cancer, and now she is who we ride for. It made me want to ride just that much harder.

As I cranked it up, I saw my Buddy Bill take the front to give me a rest, and I realized he was the strongest I’ve ever seen him as well. Since he began teaching at the club, and taking part as a student in our 12 week indoor cycling training program, he has hit new levels of fitness. Here we are in early April, and we are killin’ it! This is where the satisfied hit me. I was feeling so good, I decided to just keep up the pace, and see just how fast we might ride this new route.

At our last traffic light where we were forced to slow down, I checked our average speed, and it was 16.3. I told Bill despite the fact that it was uphill the rest of the way back to Global Ride, I wanted to finish above 16. He told me to just go, and if I dropped him not to slow down. Bill is humble that way, as he still found it in himself to pace me at least once during our sprint back the club. We finished with an average of 16.1 mph, with 2900 ft of climbing in just 28 miles. This shattered every previous “climbing route” record I ever had, even on shorter courses. This might not be much for some riders, but for two old guys in their 50s who used to average 11-13 mph on our PA steeps, this was as good as it gets. Oh yeah that’s the good. The bad? Well, my legs complained for the next 12 hrs, but it was worth it.

Yesterday I had to do 66 miles as part of my gradual progression of volume and load intensity in training for the Giretto. The problem was that I normally do this ride on Sunday with my training partners, but being out of town forced me to find time Tuesday instead. Being a work day for all of my team mates, and most riding buddies, I had few people I could even ask to ride.

I put out the frantic email asking if anyone could come ride with me, as I was about to do 66 miles, mostly on a single stretch of flat road only 9.5 miles long. Here in PA, even 9 flat miles is an anomaly, so it becomes the only place to ride when enduring flats are the order of the day. Doing 3 loops (along with 11 miles to and from the location) constitutes 6 trips on the same stretch of road. This is not something that gets my cycling juices flowing, even if I was riding outside. Couple this with the fact that it was below 50 degrees with a stiff wind, and the prospects for riding alone really was making me as nervous as a kid waiting on his first paddling at school; you know it’s coming, you just don’t know how much it will hurt…. Oh, I just probably dated myself right – they probably don’t paddle anymore. Anyway…

Having just flown in the night before, I didn’t have time to call and either beg people or “guilt” them into riding (raised as an Italian Catholic, I come from a long line of expert guiltologists). So, it was a tremendous relief when the morning of my ride, Bill told me he got most of his work out of the way, and he could ride all but the last leg of my 6 trips on the tarmac. I was ecstatic! It was like they told me the principal’s paddle broke, and I could go back to class!

Naturally, despite making this offer to others, Buddy Bill was my only riding buddy for the day. I guess by now you could have also guessed that Bill & his wife Lisa were my first Sponsors after I announced the Livestrong event, right?

Well, Bill and I pace lined the entire time, allowing me to stay in heart zone 3 for most of the ride, and quite a few spells in high zone 2. On our second loop, the wind kicked up so badly that we experienced two significant changes when we were pulling – we were colder (even though we both had 3 layers on top), and our hearts worked at 10 to 15 beats higher than when we were drafting, putting us in zones 3 and 4 depending on if we were pulling or drafting.

I kept coming back to one thought – what would I have done if Bill were not there? Yes, without a doubt I would have ridden, but my sufferage would have been well past the norm this stage of my training. At the end of the day, my legs were a bit tired, but my mind and spirit were full of energy – not just because we completed the ride, but because I have my very own Buddy Bill – everyone needs a buddy like Bill. Thanks BILL!!!!!!!!!