It's Ben a While...

So for the four or five of you who read this, I apologize, it's been quite a while since I've taken the time to sit and put my thoughts down. Of course now with the season I was blessed with, I wish I'd have kept up with it better, as it would be fun to refer back to after the fact. But here I am today, the day I decided to officially call an end to my year, and I will hereby, thoroughly rehash my season. Thoughts, feelings, race situations and play by play, and I'll even throw in some fancy pictures. This will inevitably be a lot to say and go over, so for the convenience of myself, and the sanity of you, I'll break it up into chapters. If it goes as plans, this will be my 2012 autobiography:)

ONE~

Motivation, Inspiration, the Machine, and the Number Five

One of the major reasons I've not blogged for what seems like forever, falls into this category. In this, my thirtieth year of life, things that never bothered me all that much, or that I made a point to not worry about began weighing heavy on my mind and emotions. 

I blogged because I thought it was fun to share with others how I was feeling, and what was going on in my life. And frankly, coming into this season, I wasn't feeling as though anything I would post on here would be of any interest to just about anybody. I can't say that I was unhappy, but I wasn't happy. 

I all at once found myself in a job that was making me miserable (where I unfortunately, as is the nature of the beast, spend the majority of my time), with a work schedule that was all of a sudden even worse than it ever was. Without a girlfriend for going on a dozen years, while watching many of friends as well as family find their special someones and get happily married, and others with full blown families by this point. 

I was feeling very alone, unsupported, and seemingly trapped in a bad situation at my work. 

This season was to be my first season in the Comp category for WORS. Last season I finished a relatively mediocre fifth in my agegroup of the Sport category, but decided to make the leap and see if I could hang. In the process, and after a few instances of lower back issues the previous season, I decided to upgrade my mountain bike. I really liked my Redline 29er, it was light, handled well, had 1x9 gearing which I enjoyed, and was great bang for the buck. But after multiple chiropractor visits, not enjoying feeling like a decrepit old man, and some wonderful words of wisdom, "Mountain biking is something I love, and this (full-suspension) bike will allow me to keep going strong for many years", I decided to look into picking one up myself. 

As a 2011 leftover, I was able to pickup a Trek Superfly 100 for a relatively nicely discounted price. Of course I wasn't completely happy with it's factory spec, so a few changes were made right out of the box. First, used to my 1x9 on the last bike, the 3x10 drivetrain had to go. Replaced it with a full 2x10 Sram X9 gruppo. Ditched the RaceLite wheels in favor of the RaceXLite wheels I already owned. Mounted some Schwalbe Racing Ralph tires on over the Bontragers that it came with as they were known as a very fast, all conditions tire. And last, tossed the stock saddle in favor of a beautiful Italian Fizik. Now personalized to my taste and needs, out the door, I dropped $1500 more than I had ever spent on a bike... Evidently, I was going all in this season.

For that matter, upgraded to a higher category, an extra lap on more technical trails, against superior competition, now on this fancy, full-squish carbon bike, it was very much in my mind that I didn't want to be that guy. The guy who has the fancy gear, yet is a no-talent hack... 

So let the training commence. Looking back at it now, seemingly, the way it ended up working out, the previous seasons preparations found me spending the majority of my early training time on the mountain trails. Thanks to horrible, windy/cold spring weather, I seeked shelter in the woods, and thereby (and frankly unknowingly) began fine tuning my bike handling skills aboard my hardtail Redline. Gaining some bike handling only goes so far when you don't have the motor to back it up though, and that's likely the cause of my mediocre Sport tenure. This season (for reasons I'll get into), I switched it up early season. The majority of the miles I put on were on the road, rain or shine, wind or windier, I was pounding the pavement. I didn't really touch the mountain bike, I think I was afraid to get it dirty, and/or I was feeling pretty strong, suffering aboard the road bike, so I went with it.

This early season, for two major reasons, I adopted the #5 mentality. The Rules 

I had the pleasure of watching the most famous one-day race, Paris-Roubaix this spring, and the ride Tom Boonen turned in, just came across as completely badass, and greatly inspired me. If Paris-Roubaix is foreign to you, as far as cycling goes, it's the definition of an epic, point to point race. It goes from Paris up to the boarder of Belgium over the worst roads they can find, including the famous ancient cobblestone roads that aren't suitable for cars let alone bikes. Boonen, already a certified master of the early season classics (3-time winner of this very race), found himself again in controversy, drug problems (cocaine is a party enhancer, not a performance enhancer) as well as questionable form as of late, but was still expected to win, as he's Belgian, and this what they live for. Amongst a select group Boonen attacked on the cobbles, brought back a breakaway containing a very strong teammate, promptly dropped him, and rode the next 52km (32miles), on terrible terrain, all by himself, to take his record tying 4th win. His speed over the cobbles blew my mind, it literally looked like he was doing twice the speed of everyone else. And as the commentator explained that beyond the rest of your body, your hands take the biggest amount of abuse, and that even with padded gloves and/or handlebars, they'll remain sore for weeks afterwards. To which he then points out Boonen. Not wearing gloves. Bare-handed! F-ing hardcore! 

It also finally struck me, something that should be fairly obvious in the sport of cycling, a good credo to  train and race with. In a sport where it's damn near impossible to win, you shouldn't base your perception of others, or indeed yourself based solely on if you win or lose. Thus, to me, cycling is a sport of RESPECT. I respect the guy who's on the front pulling into the wind more than the guy sitting sheltered in the pack. I respect the guy who's out riding in inclement weather more than the one who's sitting on a resistance trainer, or worse, not riding at all. I respect the guy who crashes and gets up, bloodied and dirty and finishes more than the one who DNFed. The guy who's out there to ride and put the hurt on, not just to sport fancy gear and be a fashion show on wheels. The guy who does the epic 12 hour mountain bike race, who cares your finishing position, you just finished a Goddamn 12hour mountain bike race. 

This new found mindset, combined with constant reference to Rule#5 kept me motivated, I was out for blood this spring. 

Ah, it's like 40degrees outside. HTFU

Ah, it's like 40mph winds outside. HTFU

Ah, it's like 100degrees outside. HTFU

Ah, it's a little rainy outside. HTFU

Ah, there's big hills that way. HTFU

This year's training focus was going to be about two things, my threshold power, and my power to weight. Threshold being the maximum amount of power you can maintain for an extended amount of time. And power to weight of course meaning dropping some weight off my fat ass...

With my schedule, time is the biggest limiting factor to my training. So I got stern with myself and decided, with the time I have, I need to make the most of it. Quality over quantity. 

On average, my rides averaged  between an hour and a half to two hours. No huge miles, no three plus hour basemile rides (maybe one). So for those 90 to 120 minutes per ride, I put my head down and went for it. 

My hour average power became a goal I would shoot for. With a warmup and pseudo cool down with every ride, there was always at least an hour of meat and potato, balls-out effort in there, that I wanted/needed to improve. And that I did. My month of May in particular, I remember went very well. It literally seemed every ride I did, I'd download the power data I find I had set a new hour power record. I thought my PowerTap was broken/ not reading correctly at one point, haha.

As far as my diet went, I didn't make any drastic changes, and still ate foods I enjoyed, but fine-tuned it and streamlined it a bit. I made protein a necessity, chicken, meat, fish, nuts, and lots and lots of eggs. I also began enjoying a lot good, genuine mexican cuisine.  Working my 12hour nights makes eating interesting as well. I started strictly eating before work, and then subsequent small meals/snacks every three hours while at work. And made a point, though hungry, to not eat when I get home from work, as it would be the ill advised, eat then go to bed. Bottom line, I consistently weighed in the low 200's last season, and with my adjustments I was able to get my average race weight down to about 190.

So season approaching, form looking promising, weather finally coming around to where I could get on the trails without trashing them or my new bike, it was time to get to know the Superfly. From what I had heard of this bike, I was supposed to love it. I heard it described as a "cheater bike," and that it wasn't a good bike for beginners as it will teach them bad habits because it handles and navigates trails so easily. But I'd also heard it's one of the fastest bikes out there, and again, I was gonna love it. 

Truth be told, never having ridden a full suspension, and the fact that it actually carried about a 2lb weight penalty compared to my last bike, I was somewhat skeptical. 

Maiden ride, so very anxious to put this highly touted machine through it's paces and see what it's all about. Not fifty yards off the gravel onto the dirt, the first 'bump' I hit, the front suspension fork explodes, shooting the damper up and over my shoulder, and showering me in fluorescent, strong smelling oil. Terrific. What the hell. Yes, I was perturbed. Taking the most expensive bike I'd ever purchased back to the shop after it exploded on me 50 yards into it's first ride ended with them removing the fork and sending back to Fox. It ended up being diagnosed as a "lemon shock" from the factory, and it was replaced with a new one...

So about a month later (only about a week away from first WORS race), bike is back and ready to go. Good thing too because I really needed to ride this thing and get used to it, get a feel for it. Mountain biking requires a huge amount of trust between rider and bike. You need to be sure those brakes are gonna stop you, be sure you can navigate those rocks or logs, weave in between those tight trees, climb that crazy steep hill. You've gotta know your bike and how it will perform. 

So second maiden voyage out on the new bike, making it more than 50 yards this time, feeling happy about that, haha. Starting to get a feel for suspension, enjoying it. But then, not a third of lap in, Bang! again... Came over a rise, freewheeling down the other side, started to pedal, Blamm-O, rear derailleur 

explodes and completely shears off. I've lost rear derailleurs before, usually it's the result of something. Poorly aligned, bad shifting? It was shifting perfectly up till that point. A branch or some other type of shrapnel getting caught up in there and tearing apart the works? There was no evidence of such debris, trust me, I looked...

So at this point I'm livid. I'm absolutely pissed. A week till the first race, and I'm 0-2 at even breaking a sweat on the new bike. 

And in the industry, we call that a cliff hanger. Tune in next time for the next installment of Ben's 2012 SuperBlog :)