Dedication

As I start my working career, I’m beginning to understand what that word means as it relates to bike racing. While I stayed pretty busy these last few years in school, my schedule was flexible enough to be able to wait for a break in the weather and still ride in the daylight. The worst case might’ve been a couple of slow weeks in January and maybe another in July, but otherwise I could generally ride consistently. Now, things are different. Winter has come early, and the days are short. It’s too cold, too dark, and there’s too much traffic to ride after work. Reasonable excuses. But races aren’t won by wussing out. What does it take to train through winter? Discipline, discomfort, trainer/rollers, cross-training, lights, gear… dedication.

As Illinois devolves into a soggy, snowy, slushy mess, trail riding is put on hold and may only resume in sub-freezing temps as I don’t see anything drying out anytime soon. But it’s still important to spend time on the mountain bike to train in that position. My winter training plan consists of a combination of rollers and running during the week and decently long rides on the weekends – rain or shine (or snow) – no excuses. This should keep me competitive, but I’m not sure if it’s enough to really improve. It’s going to be a long winter.

Rediscovering Minimalism

Through a somewhat forced experiment due to working out of town, I am rediscovering the minimum possessions needed to maintain my quality of life expectations. I’ve said before that my dog and bikes are non-negotiable, and that holds true. For the first month, Lucy and the mountain bike stayed home. After nearly seven years of hearing the pitter-patter of little paws following me around the house, it was unnaturally quiet without Lucy. When I accidentally dropped food, I still expected her to immediately come running over. There was a distinct emptiness.

As for the bikes, I did have my road bike to begin with. Initially I had concerns about traveling to other locations, having to rent a car, and/or possibly flying home and thought one bike would be easier to manage. I wasn’t sure if there would be trails nearby or the condition of the trails if there were some, but there are always rural roads to be found. While there is a kind of romantic notion to having only one bike that gets ridden everywhere, it’s just not practical for the bike enthusiast. I might could do it with the right bike, but that is certainly not a road bike. Mountain biking is my source of stress relief, and road riding is a poor substitute, largely due to those pesky cars but also because being surrounded by green trees and dirt brings out a primal inner peace. So after two months, I decided it was worth the hassle to retrieve my mountain bike (along with my car and cold weather clothes).

I didn’t really miss my car, but with a dog and two bikes, it makes getting around a bit easier. Renting a car can be a hassle and expensive, depending on how far you’re driving. I do have access to a company truck for short trips around town. But to be car-free, or at least car-independent, a third commuter bike (with fenders) would be necessary. So for the bike enthusiast, there is a minimum of three bikes to cover all the bases, and while additional bikes are fun, they can only offer quickly diminishing returns.

My wardrobe was even more sparse than usual to begin with: two cycling kits, one pair of jeans, one pair of khakis, two pairs of shorts, a handful of t-shirts, interview attire (shirt, tie, jacket, shoes), nano-puff jacket, rain jacket, plus work pants/shirts and socks and underwear of course. I’ve since added cold weather cycling gear, base layers, two jackets, pajama pants, and slippers. I don’t see a need for much more than this, though my jeans recently developed holes in both knees and finally the crotch and have since been thrown away.

In the kitchen, all the basics were furnished, but I brought my cast-iron skillet, knife, and cutting board. Initially my coffee setup consisted of an Aeropress and a small pot for boiling water – which routinely spilled while pouring. So after my first trip home, I brought back my French press and grinder and recently acquired an electric kettle because the two pots shared with roommates where not always available.

We’ve also been without TV and mostly without Internet. I don’t really miss TV, but Internet is nice, especially since I need to keep applying to jobs. I’m still looking for a solution – traditional providers seem expensive and require lengthy contracts. I think coffee shops, libraries, and tethering to my phone are the way to go. Maybe limited access will keep me from wasting time when I could be reading or studying for the FE. Plus it's nice to get out of the house.

I think I currently have all I need, though I’ve been eyeing a set of rollers to keep me pedaling through these winter months (I’m now working all daylight hours). Night riding might be feasible for a couple more weeks, but it'll soon be bitterly cold. I’m hesitant to acquire more stuff since it all needs to fit in my car, but I think rollers would be a worthwhile investment.

The Empire

I have seen the power of the Dark Side, and it calls to me. As much as I like trail riding, less than ideal conditions can be a real buzz kill. When the trails are overgrown, covered in debris, or invaded by spiders, trail riding gets less fun. The biggest annoyance is skating around on pine straw; it’s like driving a Ferrari in a school zone. But the road isn’t subject to these plagues. It won’t stand in the way while you ride as hard and as long as your legs can take, turning a benign-looking stretch into a leg-burning, vomit-inducing hell. Doesn't that sound like a good time?

I’m officially a Cat 4 roadie after winning the Cat 5 LAMBRA Championship Crit. I was nervous going into this race – a 0.7 mile, L-shaped circuit with some of the worst pavement I’ve seen. I was, however, excited about a short hill after the left-hand turn (riding the course clock-wise). I knew this would be an advantage for me. I didn’t have much of a strategy, but I knew the hill was the place to make a move.

The first few laps were a bit nerve-wracking as we bounced along, jockeying for position. No one wants to be on the front, to avoid doing a lot of work pulling the group, but everyone wants to be near the front to avoid getting caught behind a crash in the back. I ended up on the front for several laps, a lot more than I wanted but rode well within my limits. I pushed the pace just a little up the hill in an attempt to wear down the competition. After several laps, I finally rode slow enough to force a couple of riders to pass.

Five laps to go; the pace quickened. Four laps to go, and I was third wheel. I wanted to attack but knew that timing was key. Patience is often rewarded, and there was still too much ground to cover for me to maintain full throttle. Three laps to go, and I’m back on the front – a terrible attack position. Two laps to go, still on the front I attack up the hill anyway. Maintain speed through the turn and across the flat top. Accelerate in the next turn and down the other side. Rail the next bumpy, brick-paved corner. I get low and accelerate up to 30 mph on the long segment of the course. One lap to go. I don’t look back, but they’re gaining on me. Two more turns and they’ve nearly caught me. But we’re at the hill again. I attack a second time, harder. It’s all or nothing. I stay on the gas down the other side. Take the final turn faster than any other lap, hoping my tires don’t slide out. It’s the final stretch. Stay low. Accelerate. But my legs are ready to quit. I hear the announcer, “Ole Miss is in the lead, but they’re closing the gap!” Out of the saddle and across the line at 36 mph. Victory.

Winning a Cat 5 race is just as much fun as any other category. Sure there were some first timers, but there were some strong riders as well. It’s been a long time since I’ve truly won a race, and it’ll probably be a while before I win another. But it turns out, road racing can be fun, especially when the course involves hills. In fact, mountain bike racing may be ruined for me. Waiting at the start line of my most recent race, a guy commented that the outcome is pretty much already known. And he was right. The podium for that race looked exactly the same as the previous two races. In mountain bike racing, the strongest rider wins. And it’s fun to build strength and skill and advance over the years. But eventually you hit a peak, and riding faster just doesn’t seem possible. Road racing on the other hand is a combination of strength, strategy, sometimes teamwork, and maybe a bit of luck. There are too many unknowns to predict the outcome, and that makes it interesting. Then there’s the quirky niche of gravel racing. Fortunately, I don’t have to pick just one.

Road racing season is over; there’s a handful of mountain bike races left in the fall and a short break cross season before the winter gravel series starts.

Complicated Math for an Obvious Solution

Recently, I've been thinking of ways to maximize my average speed during road rides. I had previously heard that it's most efficient to have a steady power output up and down hills, but since one spends more time going uphill than downhill, it seems that to go faster, one should expend more energy on the uphills. My question was how much more energy?

To find the answer, I set up an equation to calculate total energy expenditure over a symmetrical hill, of slope alpha, including the work done against and by gravity along with wind resistance, using the average speeds uphill and downhill.

E = [work uphill] + [work downhill]
E = [m*g*sin(alpha)*d + 0.5*C*p*A*d*v1^2] + [m*g*sin(-alpha)*d + 0.5*C*p*A*d*v2^2]

where:
E = energy
m = mass
g = gravity
alpha = slope of hill
d = length of one side of the hill (hypotenuse)
C = drag coefficient
p = density of air
A = frontal area as related to drag coefficient
v1 = average uphill velocity
v2 = average downhill velocity

I condensed the constants/knowns and split up the velocities into distance/time to come with the generic differential equation below.

C1 = C2[1/x^2 + 1/y^2]

where:
C1 = Energy
C2 = 0.5*C*p*A*d^3
x = time uphill
y = time downhill

Solving for y;

y = [C2*x^2 / (C1*x^2 - C2)]^1/2

I then plugged this into Matlab using somewhat reasonable values for energy and distance and a range of x-values from 210 to 1400. I plotted x vs y, or time uphill vs time downhill (figure 1). I added the arrays to find average velocities, then found the maximum value in the new array of averages, and finally the ratio of time uphill to time downhill for the maximum average velocity.

Figure 1: Time uphill vs time downhill

The maximum average velocity occurs at the apex of this curve. It turns out that the golden ratio, is 1. For the maximum average velocity, you should spend the same amount of time uphill as you do downhill, so uphill velocity = downhill velocity. Perhaps this should have been obvious from the start. To answer the original question, nearly all of one's energy should be devoted to riding uphill to obtain the fastest average speed.

Even though the answer isn't revolutionary, there are a couple conclusions to be drawn from this exercise.

If you're trying to go as fast a possible, put significantly more effort into the uphills. The problem with this is that it is highly inefficient and not sustainable for long. It's much more efficient to have a steady power output. To find this optimum, breaches the realm of biomechanics, and I would guess, would be very difficult to truly quantify and would involve extensive testing for each individual. Knowing the terrain and your own limits and how quickly you can recover will get you a long way though.

Another conclusion is that it's more worthwhile to improve your weaknesses than to improve your strengths: spend less time going slow. In mountain biking, bike selection can be critical in this regard. For example, I'm great at riding uphill, hardtail or full suspension doesn't make much difference. But I lose a lot of time on the downhills, so full suspension it is. I also get tired accelerating out of corners, so I went with 27.5 inch wheels rather than 29. Also, full suspension 29ers are a lot of bike for someone my size and can be difficult to maneuver quickly; however, there are situations where the stability of a 29er would be advantageous (like the fast, flowy trails in Colorado).

There are other fun things to be done with this equation such as finding the ratio of one's power output that goes into overcoming wind resistance compared to riding up hills of various slopes. But I'll leave that for another time.

Gravel Racing

 

Last February and March I competed in my first gravel races. The Rock Crusher in Ackerman and the Bentonia Burner in, well Bentonia where each about 100 miles and roughly 80% gravel. I DNFed in Ackerman. The first 50 mile lap took over 4 hours (partially due to a wrong turn and an extra 6 miles), and I simply wasn't prepared to ride 9 hours that day. Also, the field only consisted of about 8 riders and got completely strung out in the first 5 miles, so it just didn't feel much like a race. After the first lap I opted for an additional 25 mile loop just to get in some extra miles. But overall, I had a pretty good time and that's all I was really after. Bentonia was a few weeks later, and I was prepared to redeem myself. It was a single loop with no real option to bail out. I got pretty tired and hot after about 80 miles. I knew I needed to eat more but wasn't all that hungry due to (I think) eating too much peanut butter and other slow digesting foods. Next time I'll opt for more quick energy during the race. But finish I did, reasonably exhausted after 6.5ish hours.

Both of these races were done on the Inbred single speed, running 38x17 in Ackerman and 38x16 in Bentonia which worked well, along with some wide/flared drop bars, the legendary Brook's saddle, and my home-made frame bag. I think this was a great setup, and yet, I still find myself wanting a gravel/cross bike. Would a gravel bike be easier? No. Would it be more fun? Not really. Would it be faster? Eh, a little, but who cares? Will I eventually get one anyways? Maybe, depends where I live next and how much gravel is nearby. There's a lot of gravel around Oxford, but getting to it requires a lot of paved roads which aren't much fun on a mountain bike, single speed or otherwise. Additionally, gravel isn't much fun on a road bike with 25mm tires. So I would certainly use one here if I had one. But this raises another concern. I currently use each of my bikes roughly equally: since using Strava, I've put 3600 miles on the road bike, 2600 on the full suspension, and 2400 on the single speed. The addition of a gravel bike would probably mean my road bike would gather dust and may only get used for the occasional group ride.

Endurance racing (and racing in general), for me, has never been about beating the other guy but about testing my own limits. It's always a personal challenge to see how far and how fast I can go. And that, I think, is one of the fundamental differences between roadies and mountain bikers. Road racing is about winning; mountain and gravel racing is about finishing as fast as you can. Others may see things differently. In any case, I look forward to the next round of gravel.