Competitive Cycling - Goals and dreams and hard work!

Brisbane's traditional Australia Day ride - Mt Nebo

2012-01-26T15:52:00.002+10:00

The weather didn't look promising for a ride. The entire week it had been raining heavily, bringing back memories of last year's floods. Cranky moods and flying tempers weren't all that surprising.

My mobile, in vibration mode, made a sound like a fat fly on a glass window, zzzsssssssd, zzzsssssssd. The alarm clock showed 6am on the dot. John's text read "No major rain on the radar. Roads are still a little damp though." I knew he was angling for a flatter, easier ride with that dampness hint. Who knows when it started, or why, but Mt Nebo is a Brisbane tradition on Australia Day and I wasn't going to let John off the hook.

Should the road be too treacherous we can turn around, I said. But the roads were fine, it was the air that was as thick as a laundry.

We were late. Other riders, who had probably started from Coronation Drive at the traditional time, were already coming back down, in small groups, in singles and couples, in larger groups.

Our conversation turned to L'Etape du Tour in France in July. We were tapping out a nice steady rhythm and John looked good. I encouraged him to stick to my wheel and increased the pace somewhat because I wanted him to better his time from last week. Pushing a friend to lift the game, dig deeper, try harder, hurt more - that's what friends are for, aren't they?

Humidity and sweat soaked my jersey and knicks, my camera lens fogged up, and there was no dry piece of fabric left on me to clean it. John gasped for air behind me but the effort was worth over a minute in time improvements.

Still on a natural high with thoughts of glory far away on the slopes of La Madeleine, another rider caught up to us from behind. He recognised John, a friendly Hello and then he rolled up to me. So you must be Sandra?!. It turned out to be Sean, the friend of John who also signed up for L'Etape du Tour this year. The three of us chatted and climbed the few kilometres to Jolly's lookout, where Sean turned around. John and I kept going to Mt Nebo village, so it was See you in France in July.

The Boombana Cafe at Mt Nebo village appeared closed, despite signage outside. Disappointed we were just discussing other options when a friendly woman stuck her head out the door and offered to make us coffees. They weren't meant to open for another half an hour, she explained, and kitchen wasn't quite ready, yet, but the coffee machine was already going. It's not always true that the early bird catches the fattest worm.

Usually, riders only stop briefly at Mt Nebo village - if at all - and continue across to Mt Glorious, another 15 or so kilometres, but given that the time was approaching nine thirty, we were content to just head straight back down. The beauty about Mt Nebo is that the short (and often welcome) down-hill stretches on the uphill turn into short, sharp up-hill parts on the downhill. The attacks on those are great value because they squeeze the last bit juice out of burning legs.

The motivation derived from a stellar performance on John's part and a carelessly thrown in comment on my part If you keep improving at this rate, you'll smash my best time in three weeks let to a challenge accepted. A race - what else if you put two competitive people on a bike!?

6.5 km up to McAfees, the Tuesday before we fly to Europe, it's on! Watch the trailer and place your bets it the comments section!

Ampelmännchen

2012-01-22T21:52:00.003+10:00

"Have you noticed cyclists getting ruder and more inconsiderate lately?"

"Yes, it's a good sign that more and more drivers are swapping their cars for a bike!"

This joke was published in the German magazine "Der Spiegel" back in September.

On my Fixie, at a red traffic light in downtown Brisbane the other day, a cyclist almost ran into me when he ran the red light. Swear words flew at me for blocking his clear run across the intersection. Then, another cyclist rode straight pass me and the waiting cars and the red light. Abuse from drivers feels almost normal but from another cyclists? It felt like betrayal. Aren't we supposed to be on the same side, we cyclists?

How must the drivers have felt?

Most East German products and designs disappeared after the wall came down in 1989. Some were resurrected in waves of East German nostalgia. But one East German icon not only survived the end of the GDR but even achieved cult status in the last few years. That's the East German Ampelmännchen, the little traffic light man. I read that Berlin traffic lights are getting equipped with the East German version again. How cool!

Every child growing up in East Germany knew the cartoons with these two characters sharing road safe advise and traffic rules with us kids. Stop! the red Ampelmann would call before telling the little boy off for running a red light. Stop, my dear boy, stop at once! is what I want to call out in the same familiar voice that still rings in my ears from childhood days.

Maybe beloved lovely Ampelmännchen are the solution for Australia, too, because never once did I see anyone running a red traffic light during my four week visit in Germany last October. Every pedestrian, cyclist and driver waited patiently, and no one seemed to mind.

The ultimate cycling holiday

2012-01-18T20:58:00.002+10:00

Now that the bomb shell dropped at work and the cat's out of the sack, I finally feel free to write about our 2012 plans and goals here. It has been burning under my nails to tell but I've been too busy and excited to find some quiet moments and gather my thoughts for a blog post.

Had I thought about it more carefully, I could have anticipated colleague's and friend's wide range of responses from Good on ya to I hate you. One of our friends openly admitted I'm not sure whether I'm in awe or jealous.

We all have dreams and sometimes we are presented with opportunities to fulfill them. And sometimes we have to take the plunge and make them happen. Some dreams will remain just that forever - dreams!

Some dreams are so outrageously big that it takes a bit of guts and a healthy portion of adventure spirit to decide Hell, we only live once! and Home ownership is overrated let's just blow our house deposit and make dreams come true.

Ever dreamt of flying to Europe to see the Tour de France live? What about the Giro? The Vuelta? Or are you like me a big fan of the spring classics? Which event should we choose? When should we go?

Why choose either-or? Why see only one?

We are going to Europe with our bikes and see it all, the cobbles, the mountains, the races. Heading off at the end of February, we will be spending April in Flanders, May in Italy, June in Spain and Portugal, July in France... an entire race season in Europe, the ultimate cycling holiday! We will be back in Australia in October.

You think I'm kidding? Stay tuned to our blogs, and don't hold back in the comments because... I think we've already heard it all!

Did someone say coffee and layered chocolate fudge?

2012-01-10T20:32:00.006+10:00

We all know, coffee is part of our culture, the cycling culture. Hell, coffee was the reason for many of my rides in 2011.

Whenever there are cyclists, there is coffee. Coffee is part of the deal. I only know one cyclist who actually doesn't drink coffee.

And then, every so often I get tired of drinking the same coffee in the same place while talking about the same things. And I wonder why we always stop at this hackneyed coffee shop and not any of the other hundreds along the way. The service is neither fast nor very friendly, the chairs are uncomfortable, the ambiance minimalist-bleak... It's like taking the same old routes through town, or following the same training plan week after week. It gets boring. Surely, that's not just me?! Things become stale if you don't mix it up. And it's no reflection on the company I keep... nor the quality of the coffee, that things become dull. Ok, sometimes the quality of the coffee!

But once in a while you find a new route through town or a new coffee shop that has a good vibe about it and good coffee. And it's cyclist friendly, too. And it's not just the red leather armchairs instead three-legged stools, or the raspberry friands in the glass counter instead gluten-free muesli, or the chalk teaser on blackboard wall: coffee and layered chocolate fudge! The offer so good, we are willing to overlook the spelling error.

And you go back there the week after, and then you show other friends, who also like the place and the coffee and start frequenting it... until that place becomes uncool again.

So I have been wondering: Why do we stop at certain coffee shop and snob others? What are the ingredients for a perfect coffee stop? What makes cyclists come back over and over again?

Apart from outstanding coffee and great company and bike parking, of course...

Wrenching! For girls?

2012-01-08T23:03:00.000+10:00

A few months back when I put my new Canyon together at my parent's place in Germany, I garnered admiring looks and words from mum and dad. Sure dad was proud of his 'lil girl to put a bike together, but I've travelled to races interstate by myself often enough to know how to pull a bike apart, and put it back together. I've done it in hotel rooms, at airports, or even by the roadside - not a big deal. Thanks to Alberto!

When I first started cycling, I resented Alberto for not changing my tires, or - heaven forbid - pumping them for me. I knew of many husbands who would do this for their riding wives.

And then I had my first flat on the roadside. I was on my own... and I was able to tell the guy, who stopped to help, that I was fine. A sense of pride filled me... Already as a little girl I appreciated my independence.

Alberto would always help me if I needed help, for example when I wasn't strong enough to loosen the pedals or when I wrestled with the saddle. He would remind me to oil my chain after washing my bike, or deflate the tires before closing the bike box. And he puts a big smile on my face by secretly washing my bike while I'm at work. But I've never done any serious wrenching until this afternoon.

The cassette and chain on my Time were finally due for a change. I anticipated this because I had been measuring it every few months. A new 12-25 cassette and chain sat already on the shelf since June.

This afternoon, after I had washed all my bikes, I asked Alberto to show me how to do this. The pin popped on the old chain, I measured the new chain to the same length, pop, another pin, and fed the chain back through the derailleur. Thanks to Alberto I had memorised how it went before I had started fiddling with it.

The cassette was a bit more tricky. I wouldn't have managed to loosen the old cassette without Alberto's help and the new cassette was in a mess when it came out of the bag. But at the end the puzzle was pieced together.

Tools in hand, I had the time of my life and I felt that same sense of pride when my hands were all greasy and eventually the new chain was humming in the afternoon sun, up and down the sparkling cassette with each push of the gear lever, precise without missing a sprocket. It's a beautiful sound. While at it, I also adjusted the brakes and gears on the Canyon and made sure the seat post of the Fixie was still moving.

Now I want to learn more...

Discover new routes

2012-01-05T23:01:00.003+10:00

All too often I take the same old familiar routes to get from one side of town to the other, without realising that there may be far better, faster, more convenient, or simply more enjoyable ways.

Coming back from McAfees earlier this week, John asked me if I minded checking out this bike path from the Gap into town. Colleagues of his had told him about it. We weren't quite sure where it started, lead, nor ended, but with a general idea and some initial confusion, green oasis and quiet serenity, an empty bike path opened up to us just meters from raging, crammed and frantic Waterworks Rd. Here, cars are never satisfied with just four lanes. There, we had the entire path to ourselves, and our idle chatter. I felt like catapulted into another world, a way I didn't know existed.

The path meandered along a creek, then temporarily popped out on a sleepy backstreet lined with wooden Queenslander houses, the wrap-around verandas shading doors left open to catch the gentle breeze. And it disappeared again minutes later into manicured open parkland. Pass sporting ovals and deserted school grounds we went and all the time I could sense close-by roads and the hustle and bustle of the city but it was an invisible world out there from inside the bike path bubble.

Occasionally John would call out markers, which, from the backside of the city made no sense to my shop-front brain. Trying to make connections, some directional or locational sense, I was hopelessly-happily lost in my cycling adventure.

Suddenly, a moist shadowy underpass, creek and thick undergrowth, the place a fascinating little pocket of rainforest, and a road up above us, glimpses of red, a buildings half familiar, fully familiar - 99 Bikes. We took the exit and I couldn't believe that we were right back in the thick of six lane traffic on corner Ashgrove Avenue and Enoggera Rd, almost home.

We may not always have the luxury of discovering far-away countries or going on cycling holidays in exotic locations but that afternoon had a distinct feel of all of this, right here in Brisbane, ten minutes from home. Getting lost while exploring is the best part of an adventure, so next time you have half an hour up your sleeve, take a different turn.

Canyon Ultimate and Time Edge Face Off

2012-01-02T22:12:00.001+10:00

Canyon Ultimate vs Time Edge

My Time Edge sat patiently at home (at least when it wasn't shown some love by Alberto) while I was getting Canyon out of my system. Alberto's comments after his short time on the bike were taken in - peripherally only - because I was absolutely besotted with the Canyon. Naturally.

When I finally ~~reclaimed~~ climbed back on the Time Edge after a good two months, I immediately noticed the twitchiness in the front end of the bike again; a sensation I still vividly remember from my very first time on the bike. It was a short ride, from the bike shop to home, in peak hour traffic, and the entire time I thought I'd go over the handlebars because I could see the front wheel hub ahead of my handlebar. On the Trek 1400 and also now on the Canyon again, the handlebar is perfectly aligned with the front hub, making the wheel hub invisible when on the hoods.

The set up for both bikes uses the same measurements from Brian McLean's biometric assessment a few years ago - yet the ride is very different.

Canyon's top tube is 3mm longer but it has an 80mm stem while the Time has a 90mm stem, which could be the reason that I'm further forward on the Time. However, the angles are a little more relaxed on the Time Edge.

Canyon and Time Geometry comparison

There are two other noticeable and significant differences apart from the geometry: the weight and the stiffness.

The Canyon Ultimate weighs 6.95kg while the heavy lady Time Edge brings 8.7kg to the scale, which is not entirely fair to say because of the heavy powertap wheels.

Even though the Canyon is noticeably stiffer than the Time, I haven't noticed any aches or pains after three or four hours of riding. If anything, I prefer how the Canyon gives me this uncushioned feedback from the road. With my tendency to exaggeration, I'd say the Time at times feels so soft that it feels like pushing it along custard roads. Having said that, the roads around here are pretty good and I wouldn't fancy riding the cobbles in Belgium on the Canyon. Then again, neither do I fancy riding the same on the Time.

Unfortunately I haven't been able to test-ride hundreds of bikes in my life to be able to tell exactly how the slightly shorter wheelbase of the Canyon translates into its handling or what exactly the steeper angles do to the behaviour of the bike. I'm comfortable on the Time but I seem just that little bit more confident on the Canyon: descending, riding hands-free, cornering. One day I might fully understand by just looking at the geometry of a bike how it's going to ride. But a question was burning under my nails that needed answering immediately: Does the Canyon climb better than the Time?

What better place to find answers than McAfees Lookout, a 6.5km climb I know better than any other.

All the improvements on McAfees after my return from Europe, week after week smashing yet another seasonal best, getting closer and closer to an all time best that I set over three years ago. Not even close to that time have I gotten - until now. On the Canyon I bettered my all time personal best just before Christmas! I needed to know whether this was just the bike or also a little bit me.

To cut a long story short, I haven't been able to confirm the PB on my Time. I missed it by over a minute despite feeling great that day and going all out because I really wanted the improvements to be me.

The Canyon climbs better than the Time but with the massive weight advantage and the Compact groupset it is really no surprise.

While I absolutely looooove riding the Canyon, I have enjoyed riding the Time again over the past two weeks; enough not to sell it! While I find it a little decadent to have a training bike and a climbing/racing bike, I do enjoy not having to swap wheels anymore when I need the Powertap on a training ride.

There is only one big issue that's bugging me with the Time and that's the decals that turned yellow from the sun over the past six years. I've seen other Time bikes with the same issue and in my view it looks shabby. The frame also shows little white bubbles around the bottle cage drill holes and cable routing mounts, almost like corrosion. I haven't seen this on other Time frames and I'm unsure whether that's a warranty issue.

Maybe, just maybe, I will reinvent the Time.

Twenty eleven - The Year of the Performance Management Chart

2011-12-31T15:18:00.001+10:00

I'm not a big fan of any My Year in Numbers posts. Performance Management Charts are mostly interesting to the rider/writer only (and maybe the coach).

I'm not saying I don't nerdily peruse my spreadsheets and graphs like any other gadget-focused - ah, performance-oriented - cyclist. I do... all year round and especially this time of year.

And while I did just that the other day, I became a true believer! A believer in the Performance Management Chart! So why do I think my Performance Management Chart of 2011 would be of any interest to you?

If you, like me, battle health issues, such as autoimmune diseases, that prevent you from training consistently or at the level you would like, but, like me, still want to enjoy riding hard and fast and as best as you can, then you may find this interesting. If you are perfectly healthy, switch to your next favourite blog now... kidding! You may still get one important point: the importance of rest!

Most people use WKO+ with all its useful tools to train smarter, harder, more efficient! I now use it to stay healthy!

How?

By making sure my Performance Management Chart does not look like this ever again!

(Click to enlarge)

This is my 2010 chart and 2010 was a shocker of a year cycling-wise, which is visible in the spiky erratic lines. Long periods of no riding followed by too high intensity training weeks, which lead to my crash and burn in July 2010.

First there was my parent's visit in early 2010. In mid February I tried "catching up" on missed early season kilometers. In April the symptoms of The Great Fatigue returned. It couldn't still be Glandular Fever surely? A doctor visit revealed I had Hashimoto's Thyroiditis (possibly all along) and was restricted to low intensity rides with heart rates below 120bpm.

When I finally got the clear from the Endocrinologist, I went overboard and tried to push my fitness up quickly for the upcoming races. See all these high spikes of the red line in June/July? ATL = Acute Training Load = Fatigue! By the time the Scenic Rim Tour came around, I was fried, physically and emotionally! All too familiar? If you haven't been this stupid then please keep it that way because I didn't recover for the rest of the year, gave up any idea of racing and had moments of wanting to just give up cycling all together. It can happen this quickly!

So what went differently in 2011?

First of all, in 2011 I enjoyed cycling again. I mean, really enjoyed riding my bike(s) - all of them after all the stressing over doing this forth effort on Mt Coot-tha as scheduled or making the 15 training hours on the bike that week and, instead of improving, only getting more and more tired.

Knowing now that I was dealing with a physical problem and not just lack of discipline and talent, I relaxed and rode my bikes. I continued riding with powermeter and heart rate strap, more out of habit and often with Alberto's disapproval, read my graphs, watched my numbers - religiously - and listened to my body, what it was telling me and how that matched the numbers on the screen. Gradually, and especially over the past three months, I noticed the power numbers improving, confirmed by feeling stronger & healthier.

So here are the numbers that keep me riding healthily

This is the technical part and probably only understandable if you are familiar with WKO+. What I learnt is that as soon as my CTL (green line) reaches the mid to high 70ies, I have to be very very careful. Every time I tip into the 80ies, I get really fatigued and my thyroid symptoms flare up, which makes it hard to enjoy riding. I feel strongest, fastest, and keenest to ride when my CTL sits comfortably in the 60ies. Does this make me a Hippie?

The other thing is the weekly load. My body seems to be able to cope with any CTL increases of 5-7 TSS/d per week. This translates into 12 hours or 600-700 TSS per week - the most. I can get away with a little more once but I can not exceed 7TSS/d for two or three weeks in a row. In July 2010 I exceeded 13TSS/d for three consecutive weeks.

Last but not least when my fatigue (ATL - red line) reaches 120-130 TSS/d, I schedule a rest week now.

I'd love to know your figures. Maybe my numbers are actually not that different from someone perfectly healthy? How far do you push your CTL to peak? How high is your ATL before you cancel all rides for the following few days and rest up? How fast can you improve your fitness without getting too tired?

Whatever you figures were in 2011, I wish you a fantastic and consistent 2012! Healthy or not, always get enough rest and ride safe!

All I wanted for Christmas...

2011-12-28T07:58:00.001+10:00

... was time to ride my bike(s). I must have been on the "nice girl" list because I was given plenty.

An Urban Fixie Adventure on Christmas Eve

Roma Street - underpath

Bicentennial bikeway underneath Riverside Express Way near Queens St Exit

Brisbane River and Story Bridge

Jolly's Lookout on Christmas Day

Mt Nebo Road at Jolly's lookout turn off

Jolly's lookout - what better destination for Christmas Day

Big North-South loop on Boxing Day

Brisbane's biggest road construction in the past two years - Airport arterial and Nudgee Rd intersection

Mt Coot-tha

Mt Coot-tha view to Brisbane

The temperatures on Christmas day - it even went up to 41.5C!

I hope you had a great Christmas, too, just the way you wanted it to be. What did you get up to?

Christmas Lights Ride

2011-12-23T21:50:00.001+10:00

An invite went out on Facebook and Rapha Rendezvous and some other forms of modern and old-fashion communication. The occasion? A Christmas Lights Ride - all bikes welcome! I know the invite said to admire all the Christmas decorated houses in the neighbourhood but - hey - since when do we need an occasion to ride bikes?

A colourful assembly: two Singlespeeds, a Mountainbike, two Fixies and five road bikes.

There is such a pleasure in riding a bike at night. A group of like-minded people roaming the streets. Lights everywhere, laughter and chatter, excitement in the fresh air. It's not just Christmas that made this special!

Along the dark bike path, a little nature strip, we snuck from one estate to the next, the back way, away from cars and peak hour traffic. And between the trees the glimpses of more lights, an ocean of Christmas Lights. People went through great length to decorate their houses. In a cul-de-sac we found the North Pole, too.

Back at the hub, the Bike Hub, and not tired, yet. The company too pleasant to part just yet, just like that. Make it linger! A surprise find, a Thai place just across the road, happy to accommodate the ravenous crowd. Tired at last we pushed the bikes into the house when the rain started.

Today in the office I heard some jealous tones: A Southside Christmas Lights Ride is needed. This was good enough to have two of them, or three - hell, I wish it was Christmas all year round! Merry Christmas everyone!

What to do if you are the weakest rider in a bunch

2011-12-20T21:16:00.001+10:00

Sure, most of us have probably been in this situation but I am the authority on this topic.

After I chickened out of many a Sunday ride in the past few months because I allowed lengths or strengths of company to intimidate me, I finally, last Sunday, had enough of "just catching the guys (and gals) of Alberto's team for coffee".

The ride didn't sound quite so scary either, only 100km and rolling hills, so I went along.

It's actually not exactly time and distance that are cause for trepidation. My biggest fear is to be the one who gets dropped and who everybody else has to wait for all the time, or worse even, the one who slows the bunch down!

What do you do if you are the weakest rider in the bunch but still want to be part of the ride?

First of all, don't smash you legs on really steep hills the day before the ride. When I rolled along my usual easy ride route on Saturday afternoon I suddenly felt immensely bored with the same old roads, so I spontaneously took a turn and headed for Winn Road and the back of Clear Mountain, fully knowing the steepness of the hills there. It was a beautiful ride but unnecessary, knowing I was going to do 100km the next day.

Secondly, have the reassurance that you are invited and welcome to that particular ride. Maybe your riding companions are indeed much stronger but on that particular day they are out for a social ride and they don't mind a slower pace nor having to wait for the group to reunite. I, for example, love riding with Alberto's team this time of year. The racing is over for the season, everybody is having a little off-season before serious training starts again, and people seem more relaxed.

Thirdly, know your limits and conserve energy if you can. When we rolled out on Sunday morning, I could feel the left-over heaviness of Saturday's 60km in my legs. Therefore I stayed away from the front and right on one of the many wheels of our two-a-breast bicycle road train. At some stage we must have been 20 or more riders.

And if you do get dropped, don't panic like I did when I popped, coming into Cleveland Point at about kilometer 70. It was Alberto's and Brett's turn at the front and they increased the speed so gradually that I initially didn't even notice being in the red. One moment, Jane and I chatted comfortably, the next minute I rode at race pace and struggled to hold the wheel.

My first reaction was anger and my mind was going through the usual routine: Could I have dug deeper? Could I have ridden smarter? I saw the bunch speeding away and there was nothing I could do. A painful feeling of helplessness. And it didn't make me feel one bit better that I saw a couple more riders splitting off the tail end of the group in the distance.

Only having done this ride once before and not knowing where I was, I didn't want to loose sight of the bunch so I time-trialled after them. I didn't realise it was a dead end road and they would turn around and collect me on the way back to the main road.

Even so the pace slowed down after that, I was toast because I had burnt a few matches. Alberto, Craig, Michael, Adam and others hung around and offered to pace me back to the rest of the group, an invitation I gratefully accepted.

All the panic was for nothing because I didn't need to worry. The rest of the ride was quite uneventful, in fact I recovered quickly and felt stronger and stronger the closer we got back to the city. The coffee tasted double as good.

The 100km ride ended up being 110km with an average speed of 31.8 km/h. Being the weakest rider in a group can also be a real confidence booster once you arrive at the coffee shop.

On other occasions when I'm the weakest rider in the bunch, I ask them NOT to wait for me if I get dropped. That works for me, especially if it's just a small group on familiar riding ground. I'm usually happier re-grouping at the coffee shop than holding everybody up. The best advice I can give for being the weakest rider in the bunch? Learn and enjoy the ride!

HPRW Twilight Series: Women's Handicap - NOW WITH FINAL SPRINT VIDEO

2011-12-19T18:26:00.001+10:00

I'm no huge fan of handicap racing despite having fond memories of the Avanti Classic and Soldier's Honour handicaps, which were some of the most painful yet satisfying experiences on the bike.

Wednesday night, HPRW (our cycling club) organised a Women's Handicap. Even though the race was part of the HPRW Twilight Series, it was a rather low key event, which explains my chopping block position. About 20-25 riders showed up, which was impressive, given the mid-week afternoon time slot. I had arranged an early mark from work.

There were lots of newcomers to the sport, a great sign that competitive cycling attracts more women now. The sign-in involved tieing colourful ribbons to our numbers so inexperienced riders and spectators (and probably the commissaires as well) could easier keep track of the unfolding race.

It was five of us in the second last group, which is called chopping block. In bigger handicap races in the past, which were always mixed races, I usually started in the first group Go or second after that. I can't recall ever having started on chopping block or scratch, the fastest and most experienced group of riders in a handicap race. There were only four girls to start after us.

During the race briefing the commissaire announced that the race would be ten laps, a much shorter version of the originally advertised 40 min and two laps length. This annoyed me because I was really keen to get a good 45 min intensity into my legs and I don't think I would have taken time off work if I had known it would be such a short affair. So I hit the front immediately and didn't really stop going hard all race just to make this count.

Our group worked well together. Club mates for many years, Lisa Singleton, Trish Sutton-Davies and Gail Singleton raced like they always do, not afraid to hit the front hard or take long turns into the head-cross wind.

We were highly motivated and not much was said. Half way into the race we had collected all the girls who had started ahead of us. But the catch confused our little routine for a while. Other girls jumped in but didn't roll through or attacked off the front until the four of us managed to get organised and take control again.

The front seemed like a good place to be and I really enjoyed riding as hard as I could. A couple of times it crossed my mind to save energy for the sprint but impatience prevented me from conserving. And there was the possibility to hold off the scratch group and decide the sprint amongst ourselves, a much better option with Angie Papajcsik, Donna Fyfe, Simone Grounds and Linda O'Connor all much better sprinters than I am.

The bell indicated the last 1.2 km and I found myself on the front again. I was mad with myself for always making the same stupid mistake. Scratch was just coming in sight on the other side of the track as we went into the S-bends for the final time. I figured we had enough time for some cat and mouse games and hoped for an inexperienced girl to come through so I soft-pedalled but they proved much more race savvy.

To my great surprise Gail sacrificed herself and took the lead. She went hard and I had to fight to get on her wheel. Able to catch a quick breather, I was excited about the sprint. Lisa went first, coming out of my wheel with about 300 m to go. I got boxed in for a split second and decided to go left for an open path to the line. 200 m to go and there were four girls ahead of me, all to my right. I opened my sprint and loved how the Canyon accelerated. So responsive, so light and stiff, but also a bit bouncy because my rear wheel kept lifting off the ground. I was still accelerating when I crossed the line and wasn't disappointed to have come second, half a wheel behind Lisa.

The shortened race definitely contributed to the outcome of the race, which is a shame. We were getting tired and they were closing in. Terry would have calculated the handicaps based on the 40 minute race length and with another few laps up their sleeve, the scratch girls would have caught us for sure.

But I think everybody had great fun and my main disappointment was that this was the last race for 2011.

There are lots of race action photos from Chris Forster on the HPRW website!

Official Race Results Ladies Handicap (22 riders)
1st Lisa Singleton (HPRW)
2nd Sandra Foerster (HPRW)
3rd Trish Sutton-Davies (HPRW)
4th Kasih Robinson (Lifecycle)
Fastest Time Simone Grounds and Angelina Papajcsik

Rapha Rendezvous

2011-12-13T21:32:00.000+10:00

I slept in on Sunday. Saturday was perfectly justifyable. It rained. But Sunday?! Sunday was unforgivable! It was the ride of all rides; a ride I've always wanted to do: Mt Tamborine!

When Alberto left at "way too early" o'Clock, I just told him I would come and find them, meet them somewhere on the road later. How did I do this? Especially on a ride that took the bunch deep South of the river, an area I hardly know? There are many roads that lead to Mt Tamborine, and back.

The previous week, during the Christmas gathering, I watched Nick and Michael all over their iPhones. Surely they weren't just unsocial and playing games? Something was obviously very engaging. Curious as I am I joined them to find out what occupied all their attention. It was a little app called Rapha Rendezvous.

Once I had downloaded it, I understood why it was so interesting.

Sunday morning, a couple of hours after Alberto had left the house, I switched on my phone and there they were! Little red dots on top of Mt Tamborine, obviously having coffee and chatting away at their half-mark rest stop, because they weren't moving and hadn't for the past nine minutes. When they started moving again, I hurried to finish my coffee quickly, jumped into riding gear and rushed out the door.

An hour later, and some confusion over one red dot already sitting in a coffee shop in another Brisbane suburb, I met Alberto and the rest of the tired bunch exactly on that road on which I had seen them travelling, as red dot.

While this is only one way of using this app and probably not the most intented, I could see Alberto's eyes light up when he realised that this app would allow him to track me down on any of my rides... if he had an iPhone. Every loving partner of a cyclist would be grateful for taking the worry out of the sport somewhat. The app is free but unfortunately not available on android (yet?).

This app allows you to create rides, join rides, and check how far behind your friends are on that long climb. You can even search for and join rides in other cities. Theoretically! I have tried and looked up rides in Melbourne, Sydney and Berlin but not one ride was listed in these cities(yet), which is probably just a matter of more people downloading and using the app.

Oh, and once you finished the ride, don't forget to press the button to finish the recording if you don't want your friends to know that you spent the entire rest of the day on the couch!

As for Mt Tamborine - I will have to schedule this ride before the year is over!

Life is a party. Let's celebrate!

2011-12-11T22:26:00.002+10:00

The idea? Race hang-over. The drinking went alright but no "sore head racing". It wasn't for lack of trying.

Party number one, two rides

Blue skies in the morning, a nice lead out train to sit on for the better part of 80 km. A turn into the wind. My usual bad timing! Legs spinning easily all the way, no lure of the couch but beers in the afternoon with the cycling crew, and food, wine and Champagne - yes, the one that actually grows in that region.

A shiny white bike. The usual Tuesday climb and this one a race, unofficial, just amongst friends. Pain and suffering and a reward: a new best time. No alcohol involved.

Parties two to four, one ride

A three day work conference, a hotel room on level 20 and a bike. Again wine and beer and way too much food. Bad memories of a chocolate fountain. Local riders in rain jackets and gillets swooshing pass along The Spit. The morning of my sugary hang-over. A chill in the air, drizzle in my face cooling the sore head. Grey low hanging clouds, cotton-wrapped Gold Coast, seemingly hungover itself from recent schoolies maybe. More coffee-drinking riders at Robbie McEwen's Piccolo Cafe. The turn-around point and a tailwind to blow me back to the hotel. A disoriented seagull and a slow reaction time almost resulting in a frontal collision... with the bird.

Party number five, two rides

A few glasses of red, driver duties delegated and headaches the next morning as expected. It pelted down rain. Not unexpected! The race cancelled. Relieved grin, some more sleep, and a long ride after the rain and head had cleared.

How many drinks and rides can you fit into one week?

Lessons in positioning

2011-12-03T17:38:00.002+10:00

Another race, another second in a prime and some lessons in how to position correctly in a bunch: Welcome to Lakeside.

First up: It works for some, and race commissaire Jack confirmed that he also knew guys in his younger racing days who could pull an all-nighter, line up hung-over and still race just as sharp, but I'm not one of those people. And I wasn't even hung-over. It's just that the third glass of wine at last night's dinner party and the seven hours sleep didn't help my race performance this morning.

The conversation with Jack took place at the sidelines while the C-Grade battles continued. I didn't pull out just because I was hurting. Had I stayed with the bunch, I would have told myself to suck it up, but after I got spat out the back, the race was over.

Some things about racing I learnt a long time ago but after being away from racing for as long as I have, I needed a reminder. For example how to positioning myself well in a race: If I'm not feeling too well, the worst spot to pick is right at the back. It feels natural to hide there when confidence lacks but I want to be near the front or at least mid-pack in such a situation.

When I realised that I was last wheel, it was already too late. I saw the five or six guys ahead of me all strung out in single file behind the bunch. It would have been wise to pay attention earlier because the moment I thought I better move further up into the bunch, it started unravelling and I could only watch it unfold: one of the guys labouring hard and loosing the wheel, the others visibly struggling, too. It was the second prime lap and we were approaching the hill, the attacks flew off the front and I was a good six bike length behind the chasing bunch. Bad spot! When the rubber band snapped, it was too late for me to close the distance into the head wind. I kept chasing because I thought the speed would ease up after the sprint but I never caught back on.

Earlier in the race, and stupidly contributing to my later DNF, I had sprinted for the first prime. I hadn't meant to do that and only accidentally found myself at the front of the race. Everybody else must have held back over the top of the hill because I certainly hadn't pushed the pace. While I do want to be near the front when the speed is high and I'm in danger of getting dropped, I don't want to be right at the front with still half a lap to go in the sprint. Feeling the way I felt, I free-wheeled down the hill, soft pedalled into the long, long straight, all the while hoping someone would come around me. I didn't want to sprint, and even less I wanted to lead out the other girls - again! How do I always get myself into this spot? Impatience?

Apart from positioning myself badly, not only once but twice, and subsequently not finishing, the race still had everything it needed for a satisfied feeling on my ride home: a few laps in nice company, a sprint, a chase and a few reminders how to race better next week.

But then I might have to really hone in on my "racing with hung-over" skills because next Friday will be our work Christmas function.

Mt Nebo and bigger challenges

2011-11-28T06:29:00.003+10:00

Vous êtes inscrit(e) à l'Etape du Tour qui aura lieu le dimanche 8 juillet 2012 entre Albertville et La Toussuire / Les Sybelles.

I keep reading this sentence over and over again, enjoying the sound of the French words and even more the meaning of it, expecting to wake up any moment and realising that it was just a dream...

After yesterday's ride I know that it will be a challenge. Alberto and I joined the QSM riders up Mt Nebo. Or was it me trying to get a head start and then being collected one by one as expected?

It was muggy. Little sweat pearls formed on my arms, mixed with the sun screen into a white gooey mess, ran down my face, stung in my eyes and then dripped off my nose just to burst on my freshly cleaned top tube. I hadn't even reached McAfees. The muesli sat heavily in my stomach. More familiar riders came pass and I grabbed their wheels as they said "Hello", but never for long, never for good.

Still, my time to McAfees was my second fastest for the year, only slightly slower than last Tuesday's best and I rode the heavier Powertap wheels. Alberto waited for me at McAfees and kept me company from there onwards, all the way to Mt Nebo village where the bunch waited for us in the shades of big poinciana trees.

The views with early morning low clouds were magnificent. After descending Mt Nebo; Alberto, Jack and I went straight into the city for coffee while the rest of the bunch added another few kilometers by going via Gap Creek Road. Knowing Gap Creek Road with its two 16% gradient climbs, I feared I'd be toast for the rest of the day if I'd joined them, and I also felt uncomfortable at the thought of making them wait for me yet another time.

But even without the added kilometers and only 75.9 km and 1180 m of climbing in my legs I felt like a vegetable for the rest of the day. We got home and all I wanted was a cool(ish) shower, clean clothes, a big protein shake and a couch to lay on for the rest of the day. My work clothes didn't get ironed, the big basket of clothes stayed unfolded and my car dirty and doing the dishes was a struggle. Sweet life of a cyclist!

Now I just have to complete the medical certificate confirming that I'm fit for "cycling competition", double the distance, quadruple the climbing and look forward to July 8, 2012. I guess I have some training to do between now and then but what a dream to maybe come true! It's possible.

The End

On a sad but unrelated note: I read yesterday that Fixie Inc will discontinue their business activities in 2012. Eventually, so they announced on their blog, it was not possible for them to increase their production quantities to a critical mass, which justified their operating expenses and their personal efforts. I always loved their boutique bikes and especially that Peacemaker of mine. Earlier this year I eyed a Chiprace Titanium bike, which I will now never own. I wish Recep and Holger all the best and hope they will build bikes again sometime in the future.

Prime lap

2011-11-26T16:44:00.004+10:00

"There is nothing for coming second in a prime", Adam once told me many years ago.

The prime lap, a lap within a criterium race, usually around the half time mark and signalled by a whistle blow, that pays a prize for the first rider across the line, kinda like an intermediate sprint in a road race.

My club Hamilton Pine River Wheelers has taken to conducting two prime laps in C-Grade, the first one just for the ladies and the second for - you thought guys, right? - everyone. Yeah, there was some discussion after the briefing whether this was fair but gentlemen: "I wanna see the day when one of us five ladies will out-sprint all of you 35 guys"

I had a few goals for the Nundah criterium this morning:

1. Stay upright and out of trouble,
2. Observe and position well throughout the race and
3. Have a few goes and a lot of fun.

Some days I'm really keen to push myself. These are the days when it hurts but I'm OK with the pain and want to go harder, dig deeper, ride faster. And then there are less happy days where I resist the pain, hate to hurt, and just want to ease up and roll home, slowly. I couldn't tell what kind of day I was going to have when John and I warmed up around the criterium circuit this morning.

Two laps in and I hit the front with John and I immediately knew that it was a Happy Hurt Day. But the majority of the bunch must've had this type of day because with 39.1 km/h average speed it was one of the faster C-Grade races I've done and nobody seemed afraid of chasing. We got a little bit of air behind our wheels but not for long. There were counter attacks and counter chases and before I knew it there was the whistle for the first prime lap, the ladies' one.

Michael, my new fellow German acquaintance, attacked, and because I was there and saw him going, I went after him, grabbed his wheel, checked back - clear. Then I remembered from the briefing that we weren't allowed to take a lead out from a male rider. I stayed slightly off his wheel but dug deep and started doubting myself There is no way I can stay away for a whole lap, they will swamp me any moment surely...

Bet this talk takes lots of energy. We came into the straight, I sensed a wheel behind me and immediately assumed it was the bunch. Game over! A girl came flying pass me and I didn't jump on her wheel. By the time I realised it was just her and not the bunch, it was too late. Split seconds! Wrong decision! Maybe if I had, I could have recovered in her slipstream for a moment, just enough for a sprint. But I had nothing left and ended up rolling over the line second.

Nothing for second in the prime? I don't agree. There is so much fun in it and the opportunity to learn. That I should just trust myself for example. And not to go quite so early. Or at least to take full advantage of a wheel when it's there for the taking.

There was the "boy's prime" right afterwards and I was in the hurt box for a while, just hanging on.

John showed up from somewhere. I told him that my soggy little matches were all used up. He wanted another dig, I could tell.

There was a lull just after the 30 min mark. No way of getting to the front as riders spread across the entire width of the track with no gaps wide enough to get through or big enough for my level of confidence.

Four more laps, maybe five the most, and all of a sudden the door opened in front of me. The bunch drifted to the right of the track, strung out by another attack. "If in doubt, just GO" was ringing in my ears so I went. It was weird to ride straight pass twenty or more riders, right to the front. And there I rode for half a lap. It was so much fun just riding. By the time we got around the back, my arms were tingling and I knew I had blown myself to bits.

Nothing for last either, except an amazing morning of bike racing with good friends and nothing to regret. I had achieved all my goals.

Compact

2011-11-24T07:31:00.002+10:00

Compact has been a real revelation for me. Girls, if you are not Anna Meares or Nicole Cook, do yourself a favour and consider a compact groupset next time the decision comes around.

Compact groupsets are the equivalent to triple chainrings on roadbikes - uncool and only for people who are soft. That's what I always thought. Until some of my well respected female cycling friends raved about it, girls who are much stronger than I am. And I also know some male master's riders who have been racing compact groupsets for years with race results to show for.

With view of some big climbing plans next year I choose a compact groupset for my new Canyon. The 34 teeth small ring (in comparison to 39 teeth on a regular groupset) made me apprehensive. I thought I would spend even more time in the big 50 teeth chain ring than I already spend in my 53 because I like my gears big and my cadence low. I'm not the high cadence type. High cadence makes me breathless and slow. My fears were unfounded. I'm comfortably spinning away in my small(er) chainring and it probably even improves my pedalling efficiency on the flats.

But the real eye opener is the climbing. Where I used to grind my way up the 8-9% gradient McAfees training climb, cadence dropping into the low 50ies or even lower, I'm now able to sustain 65-70rpm the entire way. It makes me a much faster climber. Only yesterday I took another (!) 29 seconds off my seasonal best time (on a 6 km climb). Yes, the seasonal best that I had only posted the week before. The difference between this week and last week was that I used my heavier Powertap wheel with a 12-27 cassette last week while yesterday I used the lighter (and stiffer) Ksyrium SRs with the 11-28 cassette. Just to put this in perspective: The speed I'm climbing now, I only ever managed when I did gym work, trained 12-15 hours a week, raced and weight 2 kg less than I do now. Climbing speeds that I haven't even come close to in the past two years.

The power graph from last week also showed that I indeed put out a higher average power over the course of the climb, about 10W more. It's like gym work: if I load the leg press with 300kg I only manage 8 reps. If I put 200 I can repeat the exercise so many more times. Makes totally sense to me and I just wish I had entered the Tour of Bright to try my new compact on Mt Hotham.

But even if you are not chasing personal bests up your local climbs, I reckon the ability to ride comfortably at a faster cadence and have a gear or two to fall back on for rest and recovery on a long scenic climb is an advantage on any cycling holiday. The rides in Phuket for example would have been even more enjoyable with the compact groupset.

Alberto made a rare appearance on our Tuesday morning training climb this week, riding my Time Edge, and he reminded me that the Time is also a beautiful climbing bike. I don't really like riding it anymore but I feel that I have to take it up McAfees next Tuesday. I want to have the direct comparison with a normal 39/53 groupset and need to confirm that it is indeed the compact groupset and not me who has miraculously turned into a better climber over night.

And last but not least, when all the spinning makes me dizzy, and the whole gear selection gets too complicated, I can always just roll out on the Fixie.

And so I bought a race license for 2012

2011-11-20T11:46:00.003+10:00

While I usually don't mind riding with only the iPod for company, and sometimes I even crave a ride by myself, just me, my bike and my thoughts; due to circumstances I have done a lot of lone riding over the past few months and quite frankly, right now I'm a bit tired of my own silly chatter in my head.

It became clear to me last Saturday at Nundah when, after talking with people by the race track and having such a good time, I headed down the bike path to the beach - alone again - because everybody else was racing. This lone ranger ride bored me out of my brains and I realised how much I missed the social aspect of racing and training. And so I bought a race license for 2012.

And I got on the phone and packed my week full of cycling dates. Tuesday morning McAfees with P and Damien, no other takers but three make a crowd! Wednesday morning a Fixie loop along the river with my best buddy John and Friday the QSM big bunch ride with Alberto's team.

If that wasn't cycling company enough, Saturday's race calendar featured Lakeside. It's still the best racing in Brisbane on a Saturday morning, in my opinion, so I decided to put my new license to good use. I pinned number 24 and I wasn't the last one to sign on. My guess is that there were over 30 people in C-Grade and the other grades looked equally numbered.

This was not about competing nor winning but all about riding fast with other like-minded folk, the mental stimulation of watching their moves, and calculating mine, the sharp mid-race word exchanges What are you doing back here in the prime lap? - I was looking for your lead out wheel...!, and the entertainment derived from all the deep rimmed carbon and top of the range hardware. Saturday morning's Show of Bling would have made Pros envious. Would the Canyon look fast with my Corima wheels? I might have to find out next Saturday.

BEET IT! Does beetroot juice help me ride faster?

2011-11-16T20:01:00.001+10:00

A few weeks ago I received an email from Sophie asking if she could send me samples of that new product she was representing to try and test it and maybe blog about it.

Please note that I'm not getting paid to write about this and it is my own opinion.

Stamina Shots - I can be forgiven for thinking it was something like Clif shots or Hammer gel or some other on the bike mid-ride fuel.

The parcel was waiting for me on my return from Europe. When I read the enclosed press release and info sheet, I was surprised to learn that this product was to be taken one to three hours before a ride. Most of my riding is done at 5am before work and I don't think I will be up at 2am for my beetroot juice hit.

But small logistical problems aside, I tried the first bottle on a Saturday morning, straight after breakfast and coffee, about 45 min before my ride.

I have to be honest here, I hated the taste - intense sweet condensed beetroot with something else. Lemon - according to the label. I gulped it down like medicine, hoping that just like a bitter potion the awful taste was part of the deal and would ensure it worked the miracles it promised.

In my wickedness I made Alberto have a sip but to my great surprise he loved the taste, which may just proof that I'm scarred for life. Beetroot compote was a staple dessert in East German school lunches and I must still hate it from back then.

So why bother with it? Well, it promises all sorts of weird and wonderful performance improvements and comes hailed as the next (yet another?!) superfood (what, the shabby old beetroot now a wonder drug?).

From the press release:

Beetroot juice is a natural source of nitrate, which is the active ingredient that affects an athlete’s performance. The nitrate inside BEET IT has two physiological effects. Firstly, it widens blood vessels, reducing blood pressure and allowing more blood flow. Secondly, it affects muscle tissue, reducing the amount of oxygen needed by muscles during activity. Combined it has a significant impact on performing physical tasks, whether it be low or high intensity.

And

Researchers at the University of Exeter have published findings showing that beetroot juice enables people to exercise for up to 16% longer.

I'm not a scientist and I don't know enough about the test protocols they used at the University of Exeter but the sample group they mention (nine club-level male cyclists) appears small and how they managed to exclude any other variables in order to be able to pin any improvements on the red juice, I don't know. Therefore I better leave the evaluation of those test results to the experts.

But curious of the benefits of the beetroot I did my own Internet research and there seems to be indeed some wider agreement amongst nutritionists that beetroot and especially the Nitric Oxide that it contains is beneficial for cardiovascular health and subsequently for athletic performance.

And what's my own experience? Thanks to Sophie, who provided me with not just one but quite a few Stamina Shots, I was able to drink a bottle before almost every ride over the past two weeks. Each time I felt great on the bike. I even posted personal best times up my regular training climb, improving my seasonal best by a whopping 31 seconds (over a 6 km climb). Can I pin the performance improvements exclusively on the beetroot juice? I don't know, I also rode a new bike.

Would I buy the product? To be honest, I'm thinking about ordering a box as I write this. And the taste? I still wouldn't kill for it but it has grown on me over the past two weeks...

Best of it all? It's 100% natural, 100% organic and I love the design of the little bottles.

Felt vs. real air temperature

2011-11-14T20:30:00.001+10:00

Felt air temperature squares with real air temperature most of the time here in Oz, the same way the outside temperature corresponds to the temperature inside the house. That's Australia (or should I rather say Queensland?) where breaks in the weather don't happen suddenly and people can live reasonably comfortably year round without having central heating or air conditioning running. You are kinda in tune with the weather that doesn't change much day to day.

Saturday morning for example we rolled out at 6 am and it felt hot and humid and it actually was already pretty hot and humid. Not much headache there what to wear...

So this post may not be of much interest to anyone cycling in Oz or the Southern hemisphere right now but I thought I post it for anyone facing winter over the next few months. And - call me crazy - I already miss the crisp mornings in Germany.

At first I really struggled to get my clothing right for my holiday rides last month. Either I was overdressed or, in the majority of cases, not adequately dressed for the temperatures. What puzzled me was the fact that I rode in exactly the same temperatures during winter here. Mostly the thermometer showed between 7 - 10 C. But 10C in Oz felt somehow warmer than 10C in Germany. Mind you I wore my Australian winter cycling clothes so I had a good measure for comparison because here I need a long sleeved undershirt maybe two times a year. I finally got a good wear out of all my winter gear - at ones. But even more surprisingly, 10C in Germany could even feel extremely differently from one day to the next.

Balmy 23C inside my parent's apartment made it even more difficult to determine how many layers to pile on and a quick sticking the head out the bathroom window was also rather error prone. One of my best indicators was neighbor's roof. If it was white from morning hoarfrost, I'd hang around the breakfast table a bit longer, and I wouldn't set a foot (front wheel) outside until the roof was black again.

One morning I started the ride at 1.3C and the temperatures reached 3.9C at its peak. I wore all the winter gear I had: long sleeve undershirt, winter jacket, long pants, two pair of winter socks, overshoes, beanie and warm winter gloves. 15 min into the ride my fingers went numb. Silly me thought I could just ride harder to warm up but the faster I rode the more painful the cold bit into my face and fingers. That was my first hand experience of the windchill effect, which was very well explained in this table in the October or November issue of the German bicycle magazine Roadbike. It shows in blue boxes the felt air temperature vs a certain real air temperature at a certain speed (yes, you worked that out already!).

But this still tells only half the story. It doesn't explain how the same temperature can feel different on two different days, or even within one ride. A quick google search and I found the answer: it's humidity (I had suspected that) and air density. It makes perfectly sense for German weather forecasts to mention the expected felt air temperature as I remembered them doing back in the days when I lived there. There is not much use in doing so in Queensland, where the humidity and air density stay the same.

And while I enjoyed these few crisp morning rides, marvelled at the grass and trees covered with white layers of frost, remembered how winter smells, the icy perfume in the crystal clear morning air - I think I'd loose my fascination with real vs. felt air temperatures fairly quickly. Had I stayed any longer, I would have had to go shopping for warmer cycling clothes and improved the hit rate of my snot rockets. Respect to all those, who continue riding through winter.

It's not me, it's the bike!

2011-11-12T14:04:00.001+10:00

All my pretty horses are back in the stable. The Fixie is back from major surgery. The seat post had to be cut out because it had dry welded to the seat tube. Nobody understands how this could have happened in less than eight months but there you go.

The Peacemaker is sporting a brand new T3 seat post that actually moves and I figured, since it was under the knife already with the best frame expert in town, we might as well have some elective cosmetic surgery done and add a bottle cage, so I had the holes drilled into the down tube. I have to thank the guys at Fusion for looking after it and following up and getting it back to me as good as new after my holiday.

The first Fixie ride after over two months and I fell in love with it all over again. There's something special about riding a bike so simple and cool.

My eyes finally adjusted to the intense blues and purples of spring time Australia and the Canyon finally got to show off what it is really build for: proper hills!

My friend P and I took up our regular Tuesday morning habit of riding up to McAfees lookout, and there was lots of chatting and catching up to do because we hadn't seen each other for five or six weeks. And so we chatted and climbed and chatted and climbed. It was up to me to dictate the pace. P wasn't interested in making me hurt for a change and so I comfortably pushed the pace, not taking it easy but not going anywhere near the red zone, just spun up like the new compact groupset is now allowing me to do... and when I rolled pass my usual street sign marker and pressed the timer button out of habit, I was surprised to see a best time! The elusive PB that I had been chasing all year on all those Tuesday mornings where I busted my arse trying to climb as fast as P and Sue-Ann, heavy breath and on the rivet, here it was without even trying.

Well, I didn't gain any fitness and rather put a little bit of weight over the past few weeks (Go figure!) so it must be the bike. I can't wait to actually push the pace next Tuesday and kinda regret that I haven't signed up for the Tour of Bright... and this morning I rode down to Nundah with Alberto, who was on club duties, and I loved the buzz and excitement of all these people pinning numbers and chatting and seeing friends and I decided that it probably won't be a waste of money if I bought a racing license again for 2012.

And before I forget! A few months ago I promised to check the Community Bike Repair Station and I'm happy to report that it's looking as new as it looked three months ago and - over a cup of coffee - I watched plenty of people using it.

How much training intensity is needed to improve fitness?

2011-11-01T20:59:00.001+10:00

During my recent four week holiday in Germany I managed to ramp up close to a 1000 km on the bike, that's more kilometers than I would have ridden had I stayed home and worked.

My fitness must have improved greatly then, you would assume, right?

Now, before jumping to conclusions you need to know that I rode almost every day - apart from a couple of rest day and a day when it drizzled - but most rides were of exploratory nature with lots and lots of photo stops. I never pushed the pace unless I ran late for breakfast, or - later during my holiday - lunch. Germans don't ride before dawn I learnt (and integration demands following local customs). No ride was longer than two and a half hours and my furthest distance was just short of 60 km.

Naturally, I was curious to find out where this type of riding had left me fitness wise. When I uploaded all my Garmin data, I wasn't surprised to find that I had spent the majority of the time in my Endurance heart rate zone.

I didn't take my Powertap wheels with me to Germany so before I manually added the Training Stress Score (TSS) for each ride by estimating it, based on my heart rate data according to Friel's method of estimating TSS, I had a brief glance at the WKO+ Performance Management Chart just to see where my fitness would have been had I not ridden at all during my holidays. As you can see, four and a half weeks of no riding lets your fitness hit rock bottom, or close.

After WKO+ had plotted all my manual TSS entries, the graph looked somewhat different but not at all what I had expected. Seriously, I, like you probably, too, expected the green line (CTL = Chronic Training Load = Fitness) to go up, at least marginally. Instead, the line is dead straight, even lacking the usual "spiky" nature. I maintained the same fitness level throughout my holiday. Would you call this flatlining? Sorry, bad pun...

OK, it's not all just bad news. When my disappointment settled and I thought about it more logically, I realised that with the (reasonably good) fitness I had before my holiday (hovering around 64 TSSM) I needed a lot higher doses of intensity in order to improve. My TSS for each ride was somewhere between 50 and 100. Not enough to cause great fatigue (Red line = ATL). A medium intensity training ride of two hours usually gives me between 120 and 150 TSS, which would cause a much higher spike in fatigue.

Had I started out with a lower fitness level, I probably would have improved, just like I would have lost fitness had I started my holiday at 80 TSSM. A good graphic lesson and I now have a better picture of what's required when I actually want to improve.

If I was training, I would have considered these four weeks as perfect base training, leaving me ready for higher intensity now!

And I leave you with some of the photos I took on those rides that helped maintain my fitness and probably also my waistline if you remember my previous post:

Germans are serious about alternative energies. Solar and wind parks are everywhere.

Leave the church in the village! is a German idiom meaning that someone should not get too carried away. I could fill an entire post just with photos of churches of the region but ... yes ... I should leave the church in the village!

Tree lined "Landstrassen". My absolute favourite! There is such a European feel to riding along such roads, especially in autumn when the oak trees turn red and yellow. Note that there is no shoulder! That's very typical for these roads. Drivers leave plenty of space when they overtake a cyclist.

Bicycle Super Highways I call them - purpose build bikeways around the newly created lakes, no cars allowed. Fast smooth brand new bitumen, often featuring a strong head or cross wind.

The hilly playground for the Canyon with Festung Königstein in the background (Saxon's Switzerland just South of Dresden)

Time for cake, yet? There must be a cafe somewhere in this town, surely...

Cobbles! I know they cause European nostalgia in many cyclists. Can't say I'm fond of them...

Noticed the turn of tides, the changes from green to golden, the arrival of autumn?

Two Fatties' Ride

2011-10-30T21:00:00.000+10:00

I'm back. Back online and back in Oz. And I'm feeling very lucky, considering I flew with the big "spirit of Oz" kangaroo and could be sitting in Heathrow or Hong Kong for the next couple of days had my timing be slightly different.

And before you ask: Yes, the Canyon made it, too.

Apologies for the long silence. Dad's computer decided to die while I was over there, which was a blessing in disguise because it gave me the opportunity to catapult my parents into the 21st century with a new PC and faster internet connection. It also meant a few days of complete lack of interconnectivity. A blissful state to be in sometimes (especially when on holidays) because it made space for increased interpersonal connectivity and long walks in the park and more time for cake and ice cream.

Which brings me to my next apology. I hereby wish to make up for my unpardonable oversight of only posting photos of bikes and bergs and neglecting to show the cakes. So here they are, the reasons that lead to today's ride with my friend John, who also recently returned from an overseas holiday, being named the "Two Fatties' Ride". Dee, Anke, Kate... Enjoy!

Bergs and cakes

2011-10-15T06:11:00.002+10:00

Don’t be fooled by my hometown’s name Senftenberg. No bergs anywhere near.

Dad announced over breakfast that he had a surprise for me and after lunch we packed the bike and Mum and headed for Kamenz, a town about 40 km from Senftenberg.

We stopped at a big and very well equipped bike shop and I thought that this was my surprise. Nice chat about the local club, the local bunch rides (shame it’s too far from home to join them), the Lausitz Cup and other road races throughout the year and I was able to drool over all the winter gear from Assos and Gore and some other brands that I only admired and read about in magazines so far.

After coffee and … ahem … two pieces of cake: Black and red currant with cocos crumbles and plum with huge butter crumbles, I quickly got changed into bike gear for my 40 km ride home (which surely did not burn the bergs of cakes I ate but I swear I haven’t gained any weight, yet).

But wait! My surprise first: the Hutberg! In contrast with Senftenberg, the Hutberg in Kamenz is indeed a berg, not a huge one but a steep one. 23 % gradient at the steepest section, a gradient that I wasn’t too proud to walk during our Phuket holiday last year. Guess what? 23% are a piece of cake (another one!?) with a compact groupset and an 11 – 28 cassette!

The ride home was flat like a pancake but I rode tempo all the way and arrived in Senftenberg just in time to enjoy a marvellous sunset. And Dad was happy and proud that I liked his berg surprise.

Canyon Ultimate CF SLX 9.0

2011-10-09T05:12:00.003+10:00

As you may have gathered from the photos of the previous few posts, there are absolutely no hills in the radius of 50km around here. The Garmin recorded a total of 96 m of ascending for yesterday’s two hour ride, which would have been the three flights of stairs that I shouldered my bike up to my parent’s apartment at the end of the ride.

How could I possibly write an objective report about a bike that is begging for mountains? Short of hijacking my parents and taking them on a road trip to the Alps, the next best thing was to bribe them with coffee and cake at a lovely little cafe in Königstein in the heart of Saxon’s Switzerland, only two hours drive from here, South of Dresden.

But let’s start from the beginning.

For months I had tossed up between Canyon’s Aeroad and one of the Ultimate SLX CF bikes. My heart was set on the Aeroad but the head won and I ordered the Canyon Ultimate CF SLX 9.0 two weeks before my planned trip to Germany so it would be there on my arrival.

The timing was perfect and the ordering was easy. Only the Canyon website’s sizing caused some initial confusion, suggesting a larger frame size than I felt was right. The email responses were timely and I sent my exact measurements - in seem, torso and arm length - that I had taken strictly according to Canyon’s instructions. They confirmed the website’s recommnended frame size of 56 (C-T), two sizes larger than my current Time and even a size larger than Alberto’s frame. After sitting down and comparing exact measurements of my current bike and the Canyon, I decided to ignore Canyon’s recommendation and order a size 52. I’m glad I did!

The bike arrived in a special Bikeguard box and was a breeze to put together.

There was only the black plastic spoke protection disc, which I couldn’t remove because I didn’t have the tools to remove the cassette first. I also didn’t want to cut it off just yet, in case I needed to send the bike back. Canyon offers a 30 day return policy.

And there was a hole in the headset. A quick phone call to Canyon and the hole was explained to me in technical German terms, which I struggled to understand. All I gathered was that no part or cover was missing and that it is a newly developed technology by Canyon, and that I didn’t have to worry about water getting in and causing damage because it would just drain.

There was also a second smaller box from Chainreactioncycles waiting for me with little bits and pieces such as Look Keo Blade Carbon pedals, Elite bottle cages, Clif Bar Shot Electrolyte Drink, Mavic arm warmers and some blue lubricant that smells like grapefruit. I had brought my Fizik Vitesse saddle from Australia.

I had my measurements from my bike fit with me, too, which helped giving me the „fitting feeling“ right from the first pedal stroke. I actually tried out the original saddle for the first few rides and it didn’t cause too much grief but I have swapped to my own saddle now. The seat post and saddle mount is a brilliant solution, and it saved me from throwing tools in frustration like I have in the past.

To date I’ve done 297 km, enough to be able to give a reasonably informed opinion that is best summed up with: The Canyon is a dream to ride!
It responds immediately when I push a bit harder, especially into a strong headwind, which I seem to encounter no matter what direction I ride on those flat open country roads.

The bike seems more stable than my Time Edge, too. Where I struggled for years with hands-free riding and tight cornering, the Canyon feels like on rails and corners much easier. I’m not sure whether the slightly different angles are the reason. I will have to read up some more to understand how the slightly different geometry effects the handling - more agile but less twitchy at the same time if that makes any sense at all.

I was dying to take the bike climbing so that day in Königstein I quickly got changed, got the bike out of the car and Dad gave me directions where he would collect me again in an hour’s time. He assured me that there would be some climbing from Bad Schandau to Sebnitz and he didn’t promise too little.

First I took the cobblestone lane right behind the cafe, up to the church, with the medival fortress looming above. Then I headed along the river Elbe, across the big bridge and quickly found the right turn that Dad had described. The road turned up and the bike really started showing off. I don’t think it was just my fresh legs and the air so crisp. Already impressed on flat roads, now I really understood the difference that this feather weight of a bike makes, 6.9 kg including pedals, bottle cages and Garmin. Simply groovalicious!

The other noticable difference? With climbing in mind, I took the plunge and swapped to a compact groupset and against my initial fears that – big gear mesher that I am – I would hate the small chain ring, so far I have hardly used the big one. I am curious to ride my Time again when I get back to Australia to really notice the difference.

You must be tired of me raving about the bike by now so I leave it at that – at least for now! Please let me know if I left something out that really is of interest to you and I will make sure I cover it in one of my next posts.

Village hopping and gigantic coal mining equipment

2011-10-05T21:16:00.000+10:00

In grade eleven I spraint my ankle badly. I remember how upset I was because I couldn’t walk, run or practise karate for three long weeks. But riding my bike was relatively pain free. I had a silver road bike that my parents had bought for 100 German Marks at a Polish flea market. That summer, every day after school I quickly finished my homework and then grabbed my bike and rode the 20km to my grandparent’s place, stayed for dinner and rode home again, always taking the same road straight through a shut down open coal mine.

Smooth bitumen, very few cars and a moon-like landscape with young mixed forest (re-forestation) – my grandparents and I loved the ritual and were a little sad when my ankle eventually healed and my visits became less frequent.

Naturally, I was keen to ride along memory lane this time around, only no longer able to visit my grandparents. Instead I planned to take the turn just before my grandparent’s old town sign and continue to Lichterfeld to see a gigantic piece of old coal mining equipment that I had heard about.

The Förderbrücke F60 only had a trial run a few months before the wall fell. With the changes that followed, the coal mine was closed and the huge conveyer bridge, brand new and now useless was doomed to be blown up. Instead, a volunteer group formed and took on the project of preserving it and creating a tourist attraction, an open air display with guided tours and the lot.

I was told that I would be able to see the gigantic construction from kilometers away but I found a Road Closed sign only a few kilometer from my destination. I started following the signed detour but soon realised that it would take me a long distance away, through more open coal mining area. It got boring and I wanted to be back home for breakfast so I decided to turn around and leave the Förderbrücke for another ride.

The next morning, I took the other route, along the outer edge of the former coal mine, hopping from one village to village, one quieter and quainter than the next, separated by short stretches of birch and oak tree forests, old and ancient. This time I made it and was impressed by the pile of mining scrap metal at the edge of the former mine.

Apparently it’s the length of the Paris Eiffel Tower, just laying horizontally.

On my return trip there was still no soul to be seen on the streets but the sun came up over the horizon and I couldn’t get enough of the golden autumn colours. Another perfect morning ride… just short of 50km and Dad was about to put coffee on just as I opened the door to my parent’s apartment...

Discovering "die alte Heimat" by bike

2011-10-03T04:22:00.000+10:00

In some cases jetlag is a wonderful thing. I was wide awake at 5am and what better way to make use of an early start than to get out on the bike to (re)discover my old home town. Balmy 23C inside my parent's apartment made me wonder whether to choose sommer or winter clothes for my ride. But when I stepped outside the building I was glad I wore my full finger gloves and winter jacket.

Dad had mentioned something about the Rusty Nail and the Radwanderweg around the newly created lakes. Senftenberg is surrounded by former open coal mines, which were useless waste land a few years ago and are now slowly transformed into a beautiful recreational landscape of lakes, bike pathes, canals, hotels and campgrounds. After the wall came down and Germany reunited, the coal mining industry went bust and there is hope that tourism will create jobs and new prosperity for the region.

And they are doing a great job. The lakes are still in the process of being filled but the infrastructure is already there.

A quick detour via the town centre and then I headed out of town the direction my dad had pointed me. The Rusty Nail turned out to be an observation tower of unique and stunning design, something the locals apparently don't quite appreciate. Hence the name...

The sunrise was just as scenic and once the village churches were dipped in orange hues. The fog slowly lifted off the fields and I felt content and entirely at home.

I had promised my parents to be back by eight and bring fresh bread rolls. Five to eight and there was already hustle and bustle at the local market. I was tempted to stop and check it out but the smell of coffee hang in the air and with 33 leisurely kilometers in my legs I was not quite ready but ok to make my way home down familiar street for breakfast.

First impressions

2011-10-01T21:22:00.001+10:00

The Canyon was put together in no time, before I had even unpacked my bag, but that’s a different story. A quick phone call to Canyon and the friendly guy from their customer service centre confirmed that the hole in the headset was indeed intended. Something about brand new technology developed by Canyon – I will have to read up on it.

But my first ride had to be postponed yet another little while. My luggage hadn't made it with me to Germany. It wasn’t the first time and I'm glad I still fit into my clothes from eleven years ago. And fashion has almost come full circle anyway...

In my luggage were my bibs and jerseys, my Sidis and helmet. Not having cycling shoes wouldn't have held me back from taking it outside, riding with runners, bare foot even. The missing helmet? Not a big deal. I don't need one here - at least not by law.

What held me back was lack of air! To my surprise and horror my parent's bike pump didn't fit the presta valves and my mini pump, yes, it was also in the luggage that was still trying to find its way from Singapore to London. It was too late in the day to get to the bike shop to get the tires pumped - alas – one more sleep wasn’t making such a difference anymore after I had waited for so long.

The luggage tracers called and confirmed that the suitcase would be delivered safely to our door step sometime the next morning.

My first few meters on the new bike – they were actually done on the very same road on which I had learnt riding a bike some 31 years ago.

The first stop was the bike shop for a little top up with a proper track pump. I also took the opportunity to ask if they knew about any bunch rides in the area. Funny that the guy in the bike shop remembered that we had bought Schwalbe tires in his shop four years ago. There are not that many Aussies walking into my shop who speak such good German he said.

He admired the new bike, asked a lot of questions about cycling in Australia and half an hour later I was on was on my way, armed with lots of route suggestions for the area.

Riding over cobble stones, on the right hand side of the road, drivers waiting and giving heaps of space, and brakes the European way – the left brake lever is for the front, the right pulls he rear – and the weather so beautiful, temperatures in the high twenties and the sky so blue – Indian summer! I rode along the lake and memories of past summer holidays made me smile.

Before I knew it, it was time to turn around and find the cafe where I met my parents for coffee and cheesecake. I think I will have to do a lot of riding over the next few weeks if I want to still fit my clothes after the holiday.

Stickybeak

2011-09-23T08:09:00.001+10:00

What's the most torturous thing one could possibly do to a cyclist? Cleaning out road rash comes to your mind? Riding up a 15% gradient climb? Bonking, hitting the wall 100km from home? Getting dropped from the bunch? Sure, that's all pretty hard to take. But I tell you what's the worst! Getting a brand new bike is the most torturous thing of them all. How so?

Well, Dad sent some stickybeak photos of my new bike that is approximately 17,000 km from here and it'll be another week before I will be able to put it together and swing my leg over it. I'd rather have a wire brush taken to my sores...

Last night I dreamt I rode a Canyon!

In the 1950ies

2011-09-18T20:11:00.000+10:00

Mum recently went through an old family photo album and emailed me this little perl. Obviously, the passion for cycling is running in the family, and it's passed down through the female line. This is mum and grandma riding together in the 1950ies...

How to explain to Dad?

2011-09-12T20:28:00.000+10:00

What day of the week was it again?

Checking over my shoulder to make sure I was putting some hurt on John - lovely little 16% gradient and looking so innocent from this angle!

Checking emails mid-ride?

Judging by the colour of last weekend's sky you may be forgiven for thinking that we are enjoying warm spring temperatures in South East Queensland. Looks are deceiving. A cold snap returned with invigorating 7C mornings. Last chances to wear out the winter gear before it gets packed away until May. Oh, hold on a second, I may need my winter gear a few more times before Christmas because I'm heading over to Germany in just over two week's time for a holiday.

Brisbane's Story Bridge

The Trek 1400 sold. A women bought it and I was happy about it. She doesn't live far. The thought of seeing the bike again, ridden on one of the bike paths one day made me smile. It's gone and I - not wasting any time - have ordered my new bike. But that was all part of the grand scheme anyway, Kate saw it coming.

My new bike is getting shipped to my parent's place in Germany. It will be waiting there for me when I arrive. The order confirmation email, I forwarded it to Dad so he could save it on his computer, just in case I need to return the bike for some reason.

When I spoke on the phone with him last night, he confirmed that he had saved the email. He also made mention, half scolding, half mocking me, that he had also increased his home content insurance. We laughed.

How to explain that I've actually shown restraint?

Slip! Slop! Slap!

2011-09-07T21:14:00.000+10:00

Photo taken with my phone camera on a Sydney flight not long ago

I visited a homeopath last week, mainly to tackle my recent three-weekly virus attacks from a different angle. She is a nutritionist as well but more about nutrition in another post. Today I want to have a closer look at the Slop! part of this famous Australian sun protection campaign: Slip on a shirt, Slop on sunscreen and Slap on a hat!

When I was younger I never used sunscreen. My skin tanned easily, hardly ever did I get sun burn, so why bother? There wasn't much education on skin cancer either. In the last few years I have changed my attitude, mainly out of vanity as my aging skin started showing distinct signs of sun damage.

Being out on the bike, for hours at a time, and in the harsh Australian sun, I'm using sunscreen religiously. Tess, the homeopath, asked me which sunscreen I'm using. She also asked whether I knew what the active ingredient of my sunscreen was and whether I knew how it worked?

If you are like me, you probably have no problems answering the first question but struggle with the second and third.

It's sunscreen, right? It protects from getting sunburn and melanoma. Slip! Slop! Slap! Why do I need to know how it works?

Well, Tess explained a few things about sunscreen to me. I thought I'd share it with you because summer is just around the corner... at least for us down(here)under.

First there was zinc

Zinc based sunscreens build a physical barrier on your skin so UV rays can't actually get to your skin, pretty much like Slip! for your face. This is very effective but unfortunately not very comfortable, nor does it look attractive when you don't happen to have sand between your toes.

Then there was oxybenzone

There is a range of newer sunscreens that work chemically as they penetrate the skin and protect it from UV rates by absorbing them.

The main active ingredient is oxybenzone. Go on, google it! Come on, do it now! I'll wait.

Did you read about the controversy on Wikipedia? I won't go into all the chemical details. In summary, Oxybenzone filters out ultra violet light by converting it into heat. Research strongly suggests that it is not only a toxin for you body because it gets absorbed by the skin but also changes the DNA of skin cells, damages or kills skin cells, is a major contributor for skin aging and... is photocarcigonetic. Yes, it may cause the very thing it claims to protect us from.

In the long run, zinc-based sunscreens may be the healthier option.

All this worried me enough to check my sunscreen(s) - yes, I have more than one - do some more research and make a decision about how I'm going to protect my skin on long rides in future. I'd suggest you do the same!

Bicycle perls of wisdom - a pictorial journey through my week

2011-09-03T16:38:00.001+10:00

A setting sun in the back is as good as a tail wind

A rough surface is acceptable only when it is an empty road

Knowing what lays ahead is half the battle

Tagging along someone else's bike commute is just as good as commuting yourself

It won't matter what the day brings when it starts with a ride along the river

It's ok to eat cake at the famous Samford Patisserie as long as you race up all the hills to get there

La crema - the lighter the colour the weaker the shot. Forgive them if it's your third for the day.

I'd love to hear your pearls of wisdom from this week!

Seat post stuck

2011-08-27T18:59:00.004+10:00

Oh, the heartache!

It all started with Jim's post over at 400000 Miles And Counting a couple of months ago about his seat post having slipped and caused a knee injury. My seat post used to be marked with electrical tape but yet another plane trip had seen it peel off and I had never gotten around to replace it. More out of curiosity than really expecting my saddle heights to be wrong, I dug out my summary sheet from my bio mechanical assessment and professional bike fit that I had done a couple of years ago.

14 mm! I couldn't believe my eyes and measured three times just to be sure but, indeed, my seat post had slipped down by 14 mm.

After riding the bike a few times and getting used to the new correct saddle heights, it dawned on me that when I got the Peacemaker, I took the measurements off my roadbike and not from the bike fit, which meant the Fixie seat post needed adjusting, too.

To my even greater surprise, the seat post wouldn't move. Now that was unexpected! The bike is only eight months old, surely the seat post couldn't have ceased in such a short time. I googled for solutions and found Sheldon Brown's 14 Ways to Unstick a Seatpost. I went out and bought WD-40 (did you know that WD-40 stands for Water Displacement - 40th attempt?). For a whole week Alberto and I soaked the seat post and whacked and pushed and slammed and pulled. It wouldn't budge.

Is it just me or are you unhappy and sad, too, when one of your bikes is not quite right? I mean, why is it that for months I rode the bike happily with a saddle slightly too low and now, that I know the seat post is ceased, I can't stop thinking about it?

A job for the Pros, I took the Peacemaker to the guys at Fusion today. When they whacked it with a hammer, I had to close my eyes and look away! Then they clamped the whole bike in a vise and tried to use the leverage to break the lock. Nothing!

I had to leave the bike behind. Heavy hearted I drove home.

Now I will wait all week for the phone call that the seat post is freed and my Fixie is healed. Oh, the heartache!

Separation anxiety

2011-08-21T19:51:00.001+10:00

The header does not refer to my absence here. This was caused by yet another illness in this illness-ridden winter of mine. Yes, I hear the chatter She is so sickly! I'm not! Well, not usually I'm not. Apart from that permanent feature on my health report card that is the autoimmune issue Hashimoto's, I'm usually robust and - well - healthy!

Anyway, recovery is in progress. I successfully introduced proper food to my stomach yesterday after three days of tea and dry biscuits, and all going well, I should replenish my muscle glycogen stores and rehydrate my body enough to get back on the bike by Tuesday.

But back to this post that I started last weekend and then didn't get to finish.

Only three of my four bikes have been ridden these past two years. There is plenty of use for my Time Edge and the Fixie takes me to work and home once (or sometimes a few times) a week. Even my mountain bike has seen trails in the past 12 months. It's only my trusty old Trek 1400 that's forgotten.

Last weekend I pulled it out of the garage and gave it a good clean. While I was working, touching all parts, getting inbetween to remove the grime, all the wonderful rides came to my mind: my first ride up the ranges in Cairns, this immense feeling of conquest and pride, my very first race, where I got third (beginner's luck), my first ride with clipless pedals.

December 2004 while warming up for a Cairns Cycling Club race at Yarabah

The dent on the top tube reminded me of that crash in a criterium at Murrarie a few years ago. I still have the scar where the road rash was. I wrapped new white bar tape around the handlebars and noticed the damage on the levers. Another crash, this one a training ride, and it had been entirely my fault.

Murrarie criterium in May 2006

But most fondly I remembered the very last time we road this bike during our trip through California in 2009.

It has been sitting in the garage since that holiday, used only a few more times on the windtrainer. This week it leaned against the lounge room wall, all shiny and clean right behind the dinner table. I looked at it every day, thinking how proud I was when I wheeled it out of the bike shop in Cairns all those years ago (I bought it in August 2003), a bike that, back then, was way to expensive for what I could afford and what would have been sensible to spent. I mean, it wasn't even clear whether I would stick with the sport and I certainly had no intention to race.

Alberto said I could still use it as a training bike on bad weather days, or as commuter.

My mind is made up. The bike is ready to be sold. Usually I'm not the one to hold onto things. If I haven't worn it in two year... you know the wardrobe clean-out rule!

But I find myself procrastinating, haven't put it up for sale on the local forum. I don't even know what price to ask! What's it worth?

So little... so much...

Weekend Bicycle Diary

2011-08-07T21:43:00.003+10:00

My most curious discovery

Sometimes you observe something and you kinda know it's out-of-place but you don't immediately figure out, what causes the oddness. We had just finished our coffee at the Garage mid-ride and I was talking to John while putting my helmet and gloves back on when I spotted a guy pumping his tyres on the foot path with a proper track pump. At closer view I realised that there was an entire self-service bike workshop on the footpath. Tyre levers, allan keys, spoke tensioners... you name it, it was dangling from the wires. Where had this come from? Another sign of the times?

My best coffee this weekend

My best coffee this weekend, apart from the one Alberto had made me at home on Sunday morning, I had at a very bike friendly coffee shop on Commercial Rd. Go and check it out if you are in that part of town.

My most unexpected encounter

Not once, but many times we had mentioned during the ride, how nice it was to ride without arm warmers for the first time in months and what a lovely spring day it was and that it wouldn't be long until we complain about the heat again. I was riding just behind him up this last little hill before my place when the bird struck his helmet. Turning around, he said: "Was that what I thought it was?" I said: "No John. It wasn't a magpie." It was a Butcher bird. Don't believe what the calendar says. It's official. It's spring!

My most memorable moments

Beating this fast looking guy up the Gateway bridge...

... and having him follow me home! :-)

Signs of the times

2011-08-05T10:05:00.019+10:00

It was going to happen sooner or later. It was just a matter of time. Show hands, all you regular bicycle commuters out there, who can seriously claim that you never found yourself in this precarious situation!

But it could have been worse. I mean, seriously, imagine to be forced to go commando!

Thankfully, it had only been the socks that I had forgotten and I just had to keep my feet under the desk for the day.

Brand new bikes appeared in the office this week, parked under the hallway staircase. It's the CEO's Specialized 29er mountainbike and the Operations Manager's Specialized road bike, not just brought in for looks but actually ridden to work. I get emails and phone calls from colleagues all around the country, telling me about the growing number of cyclists on Australian roads and customers with yellow handkerchiefs.

Who knows, one day Tough Girl skull socks may be perfectly acceptable office attire...

Cappucino Rider

2011-07-30T20:17:00.001+10:00

We all have our strengths and weaknesses. And we usually get better with practise. I practised putting time trials bars on my bike these past two weeks. I'm really good at it now. Last night, after two glasses of wine at the Pane & Vino restaurant, while having dinner with Alberto and my ex massage therapist Alex, I mounted the bars and not one swear word. Two weeks earlier Alberto had asked me from the lounge room if I was ok. I think he was too scared to come any closer in case I would have thrown the tool kit.

Alex was just passing through town on his way from Europe back to Cairns. I didn't know he was in town so it was a great surprise. I finally forgave him for buggering off to ride his bike around Australia. He only ever got to Cairns in those two years since he left. We laughed when I told him I had finally moved on and found myself a new massage therapist because chances are he won't be back in a hurry. (If you are looking for a good massage in Cairns, he is currently working in Edge Hill)

Oh, the time trial... well, the time trial bars went on the handlebar and came off the handlebars a few times over the past two weeks. First they irritated me. I couldn't mount lights on the handlebars - too crowded. So some early morning rides didn't happen. Instead, I rode the Fixie to work. Not ideal time trial training but that's what I felt like doing. I then took the bars off but it turned out, it wasn't just the bars. The motivation to time trial wasn't really there either. Maybe I was brewing something already. Maybe I just wasn't committed.

Sunday I slept in and rode to town to meet Alberto for a coffee. It was a great morning, the morning after Cadel had won the Tour. The coughing started not long after we got home. Then my burning lungs turned themselves inside out for the rest of the week and there was no way I could get on the bike. By Friday I finally felt I could breathe again and my lungs were actually inflating when I sucked air so I mounted the time trial bars again for the race this morning.

Who was I kidding? A short ride later in the morning showed that there was no way I cold have raced a time trial today, let alone a good one. My legs were fresh but my lungs splattered and sputtered with even the easy effort.

They say: If the symptoms are below the neck, stay off the bike! When you feel good again to ride, wait another day!

I will be a Cappuccino Rider again for the next few weeks - happily!

Climbing

2011-07-23T12:27:00.003+10:00

I wonder if this is what my chiropractor had in mind when he recommended that I take up rock climbing?

Thanks, John, for sending the link. What a huge suitcase of courage! I wish I had no fear. This morning, over coffee and peanut butter and honey toast, it was almost as breath-taking and exciting to watch as the other climb:

I'm off to do some climbing now, the on the bike up a road and not chalky fingertips kind and tonight I'm going to get myself a big portion of inspiration for time trailling next Saturday!

Go Cadel!

Reconnaissance Ride

2011-07-19T20:27:00.001+10:00

While Alberto is out on his bike discovering new roads, I have been re-familiarising myself with old battle grounds: the Closeburn to Dayboro time trial course - an out and back course with a total distance of about 33 km.

Looking at and comparing my photos with his, I once again realised that Queensland's landscape does not change all that much between here and six hours North of Brisbane. And I guess, these photos could have just as well been taken somewhere in New South Wales or Victoria. Wouldn't you agree?

Mt Samson Road between Closeburn and Dayboro. It's not this flat all the way.

Nice view when you are not time trialling and have actually time to enjoy it.

Closeburn: start of the club time trial. Population 467 people, average age 36!

As promised in my previous post, I mounted the time trial bars. It was a re-familiarising in more ways than just counting the potholes along the course. There are aches and pains associated with a rarely used time trial position that my body wasn't too keen on re-discovering. And the mind had also some remembering to do, the revival of frustrations when the powermeter shows three digit numbers that start with a one when the lactic acid filled quads are screaming like they were transferring 300 Watts to the pedals...

Was it a good ride? Yes and no! It was a beautiful day and my legs felt fresh when I wasn't tucked down on the bars but there were too many cars on that road to Dayboro and they were going pass with 100km/h, which was very scary at times. And I don't like the look of my bike with time trial bars. It looks odd, like a self-conscious child dressed as a bull in an awkward carnival costume.

Do I really wanna race an individual time trial again next week?

The non-training approach to training

2011-07-16T21:17:00.001+10:00

Since I decided to take the HPRW Women's Series a little bit serious - not the type of all out competitive win-at-all-cost fervour but a more humble I'd like to do well seriousness - I've naturally been thinking about training.

Once a dedicated follower and devotee of meticulously planned and structured workouts with reasonable success, I unfortunately developed this aversion against anything even resembling training now.

Over the past few months I've done nothing else but ride my bike(s). Actually, I'm lying. I've done a bit more than that.

I've been setting maximum weekly riding hours of between 10-12 hours per week, which I'm under no circumstances allowed to exceed. After analysing some old training data from before and around the time I got sick, this appears to be a conservative estimate of what my body can handle without having to deal with Hashimoto's symptoms flaring up.

I also keep a keen eye on my Training Stress Scores (TSS). As soon as I get above 150TSS I schedule a mandatory rest day. No ifs and buts! Weekly allowable riding time and TSS increase by not more than ten percent from week to week (give or take) and I schedule a rest week every forth week or earlier if I feel tired or notice other early warning signs, for example high rest heartrate, sore throat, irritability (Alberto helps pointing this out, which is good and if you have a person you trust, ask them to tell you!), cravings etc.

So with the framework in place I just fill in the blanks with fun times riding my bikes. If it's not fun, I turn around and go home.

How did this look in real life?

On Tuesday mornings I have been meeting friends to ride to McAfees. If there was a ride on offer Wednesday mornings, I joined if I felt good (and often I did). Other times I got on the rollers at night after work if I wasn't too tired (and often I wasn't). On the rollers I followed a structured interval program ("Sweet Spot" intervals), simply because without it, rollers are boring.

Thursdays I usually slept in but there were some Fixie commutes, and Fridays I sometimes got up for a Riverloop. By Friday night I knew how many hours and TSS I had raked up thoughout the week. Saturday was reserved for leisurely Fixie ride or mountainbike rides with my friend John, depending on the mood of the day. When he abandoned me for his other love, running Half Marathons, I had no other choice but to scratch my itch at the Saturday club criterium circus - ah, circuit. :-)

On Sundays, depending on how many more hours and TSS I had up my sleeve, I joined whoever was happy to have me along. If nothing eventuated, I just ventured out on my own, on my favourite Clear Mountain/Bunya loop.

This approach has given me a nice solid base of fitness over the past seven months on which I can now build.

But back to my initial thought about preparing for the Individual Time Trial that is part of the Women's Series in two weeks. I think I will just continue with my non-training approach to training in general but whack some time trial bars on my bike for the odd ride here and there.

After all: why spoil this perfectly good thing I have going on with t r a i n i n g?!

HPRW Women's Series - Road Race Elimbah

2011-07-10T20:01:00.006+10:00

Elimbah is a tiny rural community at the foot of the Glasshouse Mountains, just 45 minutes north of Brisbane and the race is a 17 km (give or take) loop with a nice mix of hilly stretches and some straight country roads that can be tricky when the wind blows.

I suggest you get used to race reports on this blog again because yesterday I had a ball.

C-Grade had a good turn-up of 13 or 14 girls lining up at the start. Even though it was an afternoon race, the cold wind sent shivers down my arms and I only reluctantly took the arm warmers off for the relatively short, 30 km race. It wasn't a very fast race, especially for its shortness, but the hills and sometimes strong winds added a bit of spice.

After battling a head-cold all week, I wasn't sure how I would go. That probably made me race more cautiously and I held back more than I would have otherwise, which is a shame (and a lame excuse, I agree). Sure I took my turns at the front and mixed it up a bit here and there but I wish I had raced more aggressively.

The first six kilometers were straight country roads, lined by fields of fruits for Golden Circle juices on one side and tall pine tree forest on the other. I didn't stick my nose out into the head-cross wind once, riding near the gutter with girls next to me who were protecting me from the wind. I was warming up nicely.

Once we turned left and hit the hills, I stayed near the front in case I would get into trouble but the fear was unfounded. I enjoyed climbing the little rollers without being under pressure. I had actually noticed last week at Lakeside already that the hill seemed to give me an opportunity to recover while the fast straight, where everybody hammered it, put me into difficulty and I barely hung on.

There was a lull in the race after the hills. With a tail-cross wind, the bunch moved along nicely, so easy in fact that I almost thought we were out on a Saturday afternoon bunch ride. A few girls got restless like I did and tried some attacks that didn't get anywhere and then there was the "turn around point" and the push into a headwind. Nobody wanted to put their nose in the wind now and I did a bit of work. It would have been a perfect opportunity to try and get away at that point in the race.

I started to tire and the hills gave me the opportunity to recover somewhat. Before I knew it, I was dragging the bunch up a long hill into a head wind. Again I rode within my comfort zone. It was much closer to the finish and I wish I had gone harder, had a little dig instead of playing it safe. Maybe I wouldn't have gotten away, maybe I would have been caught but it would have been more exciting.

And then it's reassuring that I haven't forgotten a thing about sprinting. I'm still making the same mistakes that I always made. Finding myself at the front of the bunch winding up for the sprint with still way too much road left to the line. Yeap, that's me! And then overthinking it when there is no time to think at all, I kept telling myself not to panic and not to open up the sprint too early, just to wait... wait... wait... oooops, there was the finish line!

Lisa, who I beat in the sprint last week, won, and Sharon, a very good time trialist, took second, both for our club Hamilton, which was great to see.

Now I just have to decide how serious I want to take this Women's Series, since 4th place gave me seven points for the series. There is a Individual Time Trial in three weeks time and a Criterium another three weeks after that.

The Itch

2011-07-02T15:06:00.001+10:00

I have been having this itch, a 12 months itch, and I have been resisting to scratch because, you know what happens when you scratch an itch: The itch gets worse!

Saturday mornings have been reserved for easy, cruisy, coffee shop rides, but my riding buddy John buggered off to the Gold Coast to run a Half Marathon, and Daniel, who first offered to stand in, cancelled his riding plans, so I felt stranded on lonely road island. With a bad itch!

Alberto said he was meeting a group at Zupps at six to ride out to Lakeside for the race. I said I may join you and race, too. It was meant as a joke. At first!

The fog was hanging low over the lake when we arrived at Lakeside, it looked so pretty with the sun just coming up over the hill. Riders were preparing, pinning numbers, taking arm and leg warmers off, reluctantly, because it was still only just over 10C. The three-day license cost $44, HPRW Club Secretary Wayne said, and if I decided to take out a six months membership for the rest of the year, it would come off that membership anyway. There it was, the itch, very strong now! Irresistibly strong!

Commissaire John walked pass when we lined up, tapped my handlebar slightly and said Good to see you back! Over twelve months... yes, it felt good to be lining up with the other 30 or so C-Graders for a Saturday morning kermesse at my favourite circuit Lakeside. Just for a little bit of fun!

The first two laps felt way to easy, I was up the front, took turns, was comfortable, more comfortable than on some of my recent McAfees Tuesdays in fact. Then I felt my legs tire and Wayne attacked and I stayed glued to his wheel, second wheel, with the bunch strung out behind and I fought not to loose his wheel. In lap four or five, on the hill, riders came around me, lots of riders, and my legs burnt and felt like jelly. I turned around and there was no one behind me anymore. I didn't worry about getting dropped because I was fully prepared that this could happen, with so much easy riding and so little intensity in my legs.

But I didn't get dropped, just hung out there on the cheap seats in the back for a bit, and before long found myself half way up the bunch again. It was like Hey, someone pinch me, am I really here, racing my bike?. Maybe the attacks in the front had stopped, or everybody needed a breather, or I had simply recovered.

Then there was the whistle for the Prime and then Two Laps to go, which I didn't hear or see. The bell took me by surprise, disappointed that it was all over so soon. 40 min had gone by like nothing.

I was somewhere up the field on Trish's wheel, how I got there I don't remember. I recognised a female voice behind me so I knew young Lisa was on my wheel. I didn't know where the other girls were but I couldn't see them ahead of Trish, which sparked a competitive impulse.

Up the hill the last time, my legs felt so good. I went around Trish, passed some guys, latched onto some one's wheel and flew down the hill, getting as much draft as possible to get ahead, away from the other girls. I saw the finish line, thought I had it in my pocket, when suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I felt Lisa coming up on my inside. I wasn't going to give that one away, found a little hole and kicked again. I looked over and I was maybe half a wheel ahead, not more than that. Such a close finish and now the itch really only started getting itchy!

There is a HPRW Women's Series starting next Saturday, with a Road Race at Elimbah and a Time Trial and a Criterium to follow later in the month. Glad I've got this three-race license in my pocket...

Spin ups

2011-06-30T20:49:00.002+10:00

Now that I'm getting a little stronger, it's probably time to do something about getting faster, too. Seriously, I have just done about the longest base training anyone has ever heard of, about a year worth of base miles, anything between three hundred and a thousand extremely enjoyable but mostly slow kilometers a month, for the past year... and while I continue enjoying just riding my bike(s), I also itch to go faster again. I mean, let's be honest here, faster is more fun!

Alberto and I went for a spin down to Sandgate yesterday morning. He said the sunrise should be beautiful and it was indeed quite the spectacle. And he said I should do spin ups and I did and every time I wanted to stop the crazy spinning he was beside me telling me to keep going for another bit, to the next roundabout, to the big tree... and I remembered how awkward the bouncing in the saddle is and I laughed and spun my legs like mad and later, at another playful uphill sprint along Sandgate Rd on our way home I was surprised how smashed my legs felt. Maybe I never did them properly in the past, the spin-ups? 150 rpm, for 30-40 seconds, three repeats, once or twice a week... And maybe, only maybe, I should leave my Fixie alone for a while.

Having a closer look at McAfees with the Multi-File/Range Analysis tool from WKO+

2011-06-29T21:02:00.001+10:00

McAfees is a lookout on the road to Mount Nebo. It's conveniently located because from our place to the bottom of the climb it's only 13 km, far enough for a warm up to a hard workout and close enough for a mid-week pre-work training ride (40 km/1:45hour round trip).

The climb is actually not a climb in the classic sense but rather several ramps of varying length and gradient with short downhill "recovery opportunities" in between.

The seven to nine percent gradient ensure that I always have to push hard, no matter how fit and strong I am. It's 6.5 km to McAfees and there is a second lookout called Jolly's further up. The road continues on to Mt Nebo and Mt Glorious, but for a weekday training session, most people turn around at McAfee's or Jolly's Lookout, depending on work commitments and time constraints.

McAfee's has been one of my form finders for many years. I know every turn, every bump in the road, every tree and I know most of the corner stones of my power data by heart. Time, average power, TSS, mean maximum power for five minutes and twenty... you name it and I can probably rattle it off for my latest ride, and the best ride so far this season.

But I'm aware there is more to each ride than just time and average power.

I've been eyeing the Multi-File/Range Analysis tab on my WKO+ software for a while now and even had a little play with it a couple of months ago but couldn't work out the functionality intuitively and I'm very male when it comes to reading manuals.

Yesterday I was comparing my climbing data once again, trying to work out where I'm loosing time, where I can improve, toggling between screens and finally I had enough and read up how to create a Multi-File/Range Analysis.

It's actually so incredibly easy to create that I feel a little stupid for not figuring this out earlier. But now that I know how to do it I will use this great tool often. All you have to do is choose the range you want to compare, right click and choose "Create Multi-File/Range Analysis" from the drop down menu, name the thing and then open the next file range, right click, and choose "Add to Multi-File/Range Analysis name". If this explanation doesn't make sense to you, I found the detailed instructions on the trainingpeaks website.

I'm not sure whether there is any limit to how many files you can compare but I stuck with three to keep it simple. I chose yesterday's climb because it was my best time so far this season. I compared it to McAfees two weeks ago and then added one from November 2009, when I was only eight seconds off my best time ever.

The Multi-File/Range Analysis allows you to see the three rides overlaying, with the first window comparing power data, the second showing all three heart rate files and the third cadence. Multi-File/Range Analysis even allows to have multiple files showing in your quadrant analysis and scatter graphs but more about these two analysis tools some other time.

It was a real eye opener to see the data for the three McAfees rides in one window. What immediately jumped at me from the power file was that even though yesterday was my fastest time up to the lookout for 2011, I started out putting the lowest power on the first steep uphill section and subsequently, three minutes into the climb, I was 30 sec behind my previous best time from two weeks earlier. But by the end of the first longer climb (between 15:34 and 16:34) I had caught up. How did I do this? Yesterday I put out a slightly higher power more consistently. While the initial burst at the beginning of the climb was not as powerful, I was able to sustain a higher output for a little longer (average of 290W for about 25 seconds) and then managed to keep up a more steady output of 207W for the rest of the climb.

In November 2009, only three weeks before the start of the Tour of Bright, I would have been very fit and strong. I noticed from my notes that I was about a kilo lighter than what I am right now. I was doing gym work back then and able to put out higher wattage for longer and my heartrate was right at my climbing threshold of 162-165 bpm. Being November, it would have also been much warmer and the sun would have been up, which explains why I was able to push harder on the downhill sections. Right now it's pitch black at 5:30am and I'm a little more cautious descending.

There are so many more things that spring to mind but I want to leave it at that for now. I can't wait for next Tuesday morning and McAfees again so I can add another range to my multi-file and hopefully it will again be closer to my best time...

What makes news in Brisbane

2011-06-26T17:49:00.000+10:00

So it was cold in Brisbane last week!

Facebook status updates were dotted with single digit temperature reportings from all corners of the area: Caboolture 3.6C, Inner city Brisbane 6.5C and 5.8C on my own Garmin on Thursday morning when crossing the Indooroopilly bridge.

Brisbane's cyclists were all in a frenzy over a few cold mornings; covering up their bragging with the seeming newsworthiness of winter temperature of an Australian subtropical climate zone city.

But than I discovered my own unexpected subtropical type of cycling associated pain: defrosting body parts! So it actually does get cold enough for numb, tingling toes occasionally and I remembered that I own a pair of overshoes. Last week would have possibly been a good time to dig them out and actually wear them for once.

You can never be quite sure how to dress in winter and whether it is indeed cold enough to go to the extend of putting on booties. The other morning it said 7C but with an undershirt and winter riding jacket I was way too hot.

I can tell that I'm perfectly dressed when I'm slightly cold during the first ten minutes of my ride.

Oh, and apparently we could be in for a dusting of snow this year, like Brisbane had in 1984, and that was actually on the News last night.

What you really need to be afraid of: bike path commuting at night!

2011-06-20T18:07:00.000+10:00

In time for the start of another work week, here are a few things you need to know about bike commuting.

The single most important consideration for successful bike commuting is the choice of route to your place of work and home!

So you are too scared to ride your bike on roads in peak hour traffic? I acknowledge that this may be a very alien statement for European readers.

Excuses, excuses! What you really need to be afraid of is bike path commuting at night!

First up, since my pledge to ride to work at least once a week, I managed to follow through and last week I even rode Wednesday and Thursday, something I'm hoping to repeat this week. Just like one swallow doesn't make a summer, four weeks of bike commuting doesn't make me an authority on bike commuting, but it does mean - well - one less car on the road (and in the overcrowded staff car park).

I usually commute on roads, yes, the same busy peak hour traffic roads that I crawl along in my car the other four (now hopefully three) mornings and afternoons a week. With a little bit of extra time at hand because I had gotten away on time, I decided to take the bike path home for a change on my last commute. The bike path runs kinda parallel to my usual on-road commute along a creek and adds only 1.5 km to the distance. The sun had already set when I rolled my bike out the office door and I thought the bike path would make for a more peaceful commute than fighting for road space with stressed drivers anxious to get home.

Well, there are a few things that I didn't know about bike path commuting, and to spare you the same horrific experience, here are the highlights of my ride.

1. Bring a bell! I'm not sure whether it is the deafening silence of the belt-driven Peacemaker or bike path frequenting people just love the sound of bells but I got told in no uncertain terms to ring my bell.

2. Shut up! Bike paths are frequented by hundreds of tiny insects, yes, even this time of year. Keep your mouth shut, especially if you are vegetarian.

3. Be alert! The path at night is used by all those people who forgot their lights at home or got caught out in the early sunset this time of year. And then there are also the joggers and walkers who naturally don't carry lights. So don't get freaked out by all the shadows popping up left, right and centre out of nowhere.

4. Memorise the path! The overlit, mountainbike-riding types with helmet high beams love staring right in your face, probably wondering why every oncoming rider has this rabbit in the spotlight wide-eyed panicked expression. While they swoosh pass you in their bumptious unawareness, you have split-seconds before everything turns dark for a long while - blinded.

And last but not least (and probably the one that put me off the most):

5. Don't be in a hurry! Even the best planned bike path has to cross roads at some stage. Even if they are normal little suburban ones - I'm not even talking main, five-lane, arterial types - consider that you are not travelling with the traffic and no car (at least not in Australia) will stop and let you cross. So settle in for a looooooong wait till all this peak hour traffic has passed.

So let me tell you, I was kinda glad when I finally popped out of that scary, spooky Ghost train of a bike path onto my beloved road. I took a deep, insect-free breath, my nerves settled, I signalled with my arm and merged with the traffic, confident that the woman in the car behind me had noticed my well-lit bell-less bike, took the third exit on the roundabout without wait or hesitation and was home minutes later, grumpy but without further delay.

What was the big deal?

2011-06-18T19:30:00.002+10:00

Do you ever wonder How on earth do people do this?

Give it time and it will come. Keep trying! Don't get discouraged. Don't force it, just work on it. Things will fall in place. And you then wonder Why has this ever been a problem, or challenge? You look back and ask yourself What was all the drama about?

It was like this with my first How on earth do people manage to ride on rollers? attempt to What was the big deal, I'm doing it hands-free now! realisation and the same happened with I'll never be able to ride Singlespeed, let alone a Fixie! to This is so cool, I never wanna ride another bike again!. Now I can add Trail #4 in the Bunyaville State Forest to this list ... hopping all the logs, taking the dips and committing to the rocky creek crossings, not stopping until I popped out at the other end.

In the case of the rollers, six or more years passed between first meager attempt and mastery because I didn't touch the damn things again after the first miserable and discouraging failure. It was on my list of things I had resigned myself to never being able to do. Case closed!

Don't ever put anything on this list! Re-open cold cases! Or you miss out on moments like I had today where things suddenly fell in place and before I had time to get all worked up about that log, or rock, or whatever it was I believed I couldn't ride over or through ... I had done it! John was waiting for me with the same big smile in his face.

Last week, when I was on that same trail #4 and heard someone right at my tail, I stopped and hobbled out of the way as quickly as possible but not fast enough for the girl behind me to keep the necessary momentum to clear the log across the trail. She had to dismount, too, and while she remounted I said to her, half in doubt, half with hope You would have ridden this, right? and she gave me this brief Of course! as if saying What's the big deal! before she swooshed away.

Today I rode over it. Four times! What was the big deal?

Sure, it's not the most technical single track. The guy at the trailhead even said that it's an easy track. Easy? I was all giddy and happy because I had just ridden it and he said it was easy - Buh! - but had some little challenges - Better! - and some corners to be entered wide. So I did just that the second time down and all of the sudden it made perfectly sense to my body to follow the lines of my bike and, while not quite with Zen-like smoothness just yet ... it felt easy!

There are a few trails that are on my list of things I will be able to do soon!

My favourite loop: Clear Mountain, Samford, Bunya and Mailman's Track

2011-06-13T20:20:00.000+10:00

Sometimes a gamble pays off. Well, maybe I missed out on an even better ride, I will never know. But I do know that what I got was pretty good.

The choice? A 120 km ride to Mt Crosby where I had never been and with the QSM bunch - I love riding with these guys - but in the rain and cold and dark

Or

A sleep-in and possibly a dry ride later in the day - alone!

As mentioned in my previous post, I don't mind riding in the cold or dark but I draw the line at cold, dark and wet. So I stayed in bed.

The gamble? Sometimes the rain only gets heavier.

I checked the skies and the weather radar at eight, nine, ten and by 11am, while the sky looked still grey and threatening, the rain had stopped and the radar looked clear north of Brisbane with just a few remaining rain pockets here and there. I decided to take the risk.

View from the top of Clear Mountain looking south towards Brisbane

I headed for Clear Mountain with the hope to do my favourite loop without getting wet but I was prepared to play it by ear and change directions if the sky was bluer on the other side.

The five kilometer stretch from Eaton's Crossing to the two steep sections that lead to the top of Clear Mountain are one of the most scenic in Brisbane I think. Sure it's rough cheese grater road and as dead as it can be but there are hardly ever any cars and now and then you can catch glimpses of the Glasshouse Mountains in the distance amongst the trees.

The first time Alberto took me there a few years ago, I had to zigzag my way up and didn't even make it to the top. For years I attempted to get further than the very first driveway on the very first steep part and I had this huge respect, almost fear of Clear Mountain.

With the roads wet, climbing the short 500m long and 15% gradient sections out of the saddle was impossible. The rear wheel was slipping even when seated and my quads were burning when I arrived at the top but I realised that I'm no longer scared of Clear Mountain.

Now that I actually make it to the top of Clear Mountain, I could go on and over and return via Winn Road but I still prefer to turn around and continue on Eaton's Crossing because there is Nemesis. That innocent looking climb on Eaton's Crossing, just before the Bunya Road turn-off, actually stopped to be my Nemesis long time ago but the name somehow stuck and whenever I refer to that climb as Nemesis, people knows what climb I'm talking about. I even heard other people using the name, too, so I suspect I'm not the only one who once detested getting up there. It's just under a kilometer long but has a consistent 9-10% gradient and takes me about three and a half minutes to climb. Nowadays it's a great test climb for me to see where I am with my fitness and strength.

I planned to turn straight into Bunya Road for home when I realised that I would run out of road before three hours were over. Even though heavy dark clouds were hanging thick and low against the hills on the other side of the valley, I decided to drop down into Samford to add a few extra kilometers. I promised myself that I wouldn't have to also climb up Mailman's Track if I did a Samford Valley loop.

Looking at this photo now I'm not exactly sure how I managed to stay dry

Colourful Samford Village was bustling with people and a wiff of coffee came across from the bakery. Before long I was climbing out of the valley, up towards Bunya Road, which is equally scenic as painful with tired legs. To my great surprise my legs were doing a great job and carrying me up the rollers with more ease than they had in the past few months. Without even thinking, I turned into Mailman's Track, happily breaking the promise I had given myself an hour earlier. It took 10:30min up and 4:30min down, adding exactly 15 minutes to my ride to make it a round three hours.

After the ride I pulled out my compression thighs that have been burried in the bottom of my drawer for months unused. I think I will also take it a bit easier for the next few days. I can't call it rest week since I'm not exactly training, even though some of you may get this impression. ;)

Riding time: 3hrs 3min
Distance: 68 km
Elevation gain: 1053m
223.7 TSS

(I'm all for) Winter Riding

2011-06-10T20:21:00.002+10:00

No, seriously, I'm not sarcastic or anything. I'm loving winter. Maybe it's my European heritage finally finding a voice and way to express itself, or several years in Australia have caused heat to accumulate deep in the core of my body and I don't feel the cold anymore as much as I used to, or I spent so much money on winter riding gear that I get excited that I actually get to wear the full kit for those brief three mornings before spring, or I simply just love the spectacular sunrises this time of year.

I once was a summer girl. Then again, 76.3% of the world's population wouldn't even agree that Brisbane weather this time of year passes as proper winter weather anyway (and I include Melbournians here) and it could probably pass as just one of those average Berlin summers even though the temperatures hit 7.6 degrees Celsius for a brief moment in a dip along the river just before sunrise this morning.

But people are sensitive to single digit temperatures in this part of the world and I, too, was rugged up and appreciated my full finger gloves, winter jacket, full lengths bib and beanie under my helmet. But I also felt immensely alive and happy riding in the dark with the crisp air in my face, the early morning smell of fresh buns from the bakery at Graceville train station, warm and sweet and comforting, and the smokey smell of fire places reminded me of Europe.

The days have been just as crisp with squeaky clean blue skies and fresh air. So what have I been up to these past week?

I rode out to Lakeside with John and his newly refurbished custom Llewellyn bike.

And we watched Alberto race, socialised, chatted with race officials who found me skinny and healthy looking (much to the club handicapper's surprise it seemed) and who immediately tried to talk me into returning to racing. I laughed and told them that I wasn't planning to spoil this perfectly good thing I have going on ... but later secretly checked the flyer for the women's series that is coming up in July. Then we jumped onto one of the bunches that took us back into town in no time, almost like motor pacing really.

On Sunday Alberto and I joined the Zupps ride, which I haven't done in over a year and I remember now why...! The first twenty kilometers were twiddled along at 28 km/h until the Data#3 team pulled off at the roundabout in Petrie to head into a different direction to Mt Mee. That's when some young guns from Lifecycle (I think) hit the front hard, probably frustrated with the slow pace, and everybody was suddenly ripped out of their lull and pushed deep into the red. I wasn't panicking, especially with Alberto next to me reassuring me that we would catch on as soon as we would hit the Petrie Hill but some guys behind us were less patient and started overtaking. I didn't mind because I sure enough sat at the back of the bunch and climbed at the same speed reasonably comfortable but when the speed stayed around 40 km/h after the hill, I couldn't sustain it and dropped off the back. I could have possibly dug a bit deeper for a bit longer but Alberto saw me struggling and pulled out with me (he had an easy ride on his training schedule anyway) and we picked up another friend Peter and just enjoyed a beautiful Sunday morning for the remaining 65 km.

On Thursday I commuted to work and I wondered (again) why I'm not riding to work every day.

Now it's another cold Friday night and I have the heater going next to me. I can hear the possum on the roof, probably running and fighting for the little warm patch above me. The rest of the house is sunken in cold darkness. The washing machine just finished and I'm dreading to leave this only warm room to hang the wash load in the veranda but I already can't wait to rug up tomorrow morning for another ride.

The commute

2011-06-06T07:33:00.000+10:00

Five years ago I never saw a cyclist on my way to or from work. In the city, sure, you see commuters, but not in the suburbs. Too dangerous to ride your bike in peak hour traffic, most would have said...

While I always rode quite comfortably amongst cars, much to the distress of Alberto, I used all the other excuses not to ride to work: too short a distance (only 7.6km), too hot in summer, too cold in winter, too much hassle carrying lunch and make-up and corporate office attire (My hair straightener doesn't fit in my backpack!), no proper shower and bike storage... any excuse you can think of, I probably used it. I love riding my bike, so don't ask me why I don't like the idea of riding my bike to work. And, yes, I am plagued by my bad carbon foot print conscience.

Two weeks ago, when I was thinking up the logistics for the Fish n' Chips Ride, which started 5:45 pm only three kilometers down the road from the office, I decided to ride to work in the morning and then straight from work to the meeting point. With not enough time to go home and get changed, the other option would have been to throw the bike in the car, which even I, with my relatively low bad conscience threshold, thought a too outragous thing to do.

So I commuted to work and my commute was not very long nor was it very exciting and I didn't wear earrings, watch and bracelet that day because I forgot to pack them but I enjoyed looking at my bike in the corner of my office everytime I looked up from my computer screen. And then, the following Thursday, even though there was no Fish n' Chips Ride, I decided to ride my bike to work again.

... and nowadays I see more and more commuters on my route to work. Some quite regular commuters like the guy in Hard Yakka workwear and orange high-vis vest, the girl on a mountain bike, the Asian lady on her hybrid and Wayne from the club on his road bike, and some irregulars.

And now there is ME on Thursdays...

Why competitive cycling needs Specialized

2011-06-04T15:32:00.001+10:00

Today's post is provided by a new site sponsor Primera Sports.

Every market has a brand that stands head and shoulder above the rest and is the brand that first comes to mind. In the competitive cycling world, this brand is Specialized.

Why Specialized?

No other bike and cycling clothing manufacturer has such expertise in creating a ground breaking formula and simply making it better and better every year with new and exciting innovations. The 2011 versions of their excellent products prove this point excellently. For example, their 2011 29er bikes are taking the cycling world by storm.

Specialized Bikes:

These bikes help competitive cycling because:

·They are innovative: The S-Works brand in particular combines excellent stiffness with a lightweight frame that allows you to really enjoy a powerful ride, getting the most out of it that you can.

·They help you win! Todd Wells, who won the 2010 US National Championships, hadn’t received his bike until the night before he was due to ride it. He went on to win two titles in the championship. The bike? A Specialized S-Works Epic 29er. The capitalisation on the E in “Epic” is very much deserved!

Specialised Clothing and accessories

Competitive cyclists swear by Specialized Clothing and accessories because:

·Like the bikes, they are innovative. Specialized clothing aims to be the best and make YOU the best you can possibly be. Examples of such innovation include their excellent Solar Arm Covers and Specialized shoes that use all of the latest technology to make performance excellent.

·They fit perfectly. Not many manufacturers and designers make such an effort to ensure that cycling apparel clicks to the body and works with it, optimising comfort and performance at every opportunity. Specialized has developed its own Body Geometry (BG) technology to ensure an excellent fit.

·They are designed to be excellently comfortable and functional. Specialized saddles for example adhere to this. Specialized helmets are designed to provide excellent protection and comfort and are well worth investing in.

Specialized bikes, clothing and accessories are all intricately designed to make sure the rider gets a hard, fast, exhilarating ride and performs to the very best ability they can.

Keeping it fresh

2011-05-31T19:07:00.001+10:00

I've been wondering all day why I've got this achy feeling of a solid gym workout without having set foot in a gym in weeks now. It just dawned on me that my Saturday activity could have something to do with it.

When John suggested the Sandgate loop for our Saturday Fixie ride, I yawned. The Saturday Fixie ride has been an institution now for weeks and weeks and weeks. We have done the Riverloop, the Riverloop with detours, variations of the Riverloop, and then last week, the Riverloop reverse. Before that we did the Sandgate loop, the extended Sandgate loop... It wasn't the Fixie's fault. I just couldn't get excited about either the River nor Sandgate nor riding at all.

Then I had an idea. I texted back: My weapon of choice for Saturday would be... the mountainbike.

Aren't there any other loops in Brisbane that you two could do on a Fixie, you may ask? There are but my mountainbike has been sitting in the garage since the last outing months ago, despite best intentions, despite having fond memories of the last ride.

John agreed and I prayed that my mountainbike was in a ridable state. It looked alright when I dug it out from underneath car roof racks and boxes. The brakes were a bit rattly and squeeky but Alberto gave it a brief once-over and confirmed that it was ok to ride.

The Bunya Stateforest is only a short 20 min ride from home but I was glad when I finally hit dirt because, man, riding a mountain bike on the road is one frustrating experience, especially when you try riding it like your road bike.

The first trail we chose turned immediately into twisty technical single track. That didn't go too well and we walked our bikes out of there like thieves, hoping that nobody saw us bailing. Next we tried some of the wider fire trails, which were perfect to find our mountainbike legs but we kept hitting the boundaries of the forest and I think John got frustrated with it. Soon he led me back onto single tracks and disappeared ahead of me. I tried to catch him but had to walk some logs and some dips and I got my feet wet in the creeks despite the trails being dusty. How I will ever be able to jump this tank of a bike is a mystery to me.

While I may not win any mountainbike races anytime soon, my confidence grew and I had an absolute ball. Next time things feel a bit stale, mix it up a bit! The only downside to single track? It's not half as social as a Fixie ride to the farthest coffee shop... and some achy muscles maybe. But that a small price to pay for three hours of fun and smiles for the rest of the day.

Fish & Chips Ride

2011-05-29T09:31:00.003+10:00

When I arrived at the Nundah bike track straight from work on Thursday afternoon, the sun had already set. A disco of flashing lights went around the dark track and I could hear someone yell out "Three laps to go". No sign of Alberto just yet but I was early and there were still 15 min time to the start of the ride.

I said hello to a couple in the parking lot, packing their bikes in the car. They asked if I was joining the Fish n' Chips ride that had been advertised in the club newsletter and on the facebook page. "Do you know how fast they go?" I heard the women say. I couldn’t see her face in the dark but I knew that it was a rhetoric question to state that it was a fast ride. She wasn't going to join but drive the car and meet us at Doug's Seafood Café later.

Alberto arrived, the disco lights assembled on the footpath and I stayed glued to Alberto’s side. That’s what I do when I feel uncomfortable with a whole bunch of people I never met before – mild social phobia, or common shyness, nothing serious. I haven't been down to the club races in ages so no wonder I hardly know any club members anymore.

But then we spotted Adam and another familiar voice, Kim, and we were off along the dark bike path, grassy smelly high-tide wetlands to the left, river to the right. Some raced ahead; some settled into a comfortable pace and started chatting into the night. At the first designated stop to rejoin the group, someone was missing. In the anonymity of the night I heard someone say: "There was a girl in the group". I let them know that I was there. The stragglers arrived within seconds and we were off again.

Through the winding wetland path I hung back a little. Only the flashes of light and happy chatty voices amongst the trees broke the eeriness of the dark wetland scrub. The excitement of pedalling the Fixie through tight twisty corners in the night made my head spin. A possum (or was it a rat?) scattled across the path. It went through Alberto’s wheels and missed mine by only centimetres.

Next stop at the Entertainment Centre near the Boondall train station and from there it was mostly residential back streets. On arrival, just over an hour and 27 km later, the Peacemaker all of a sudden caused a stir, or maybe not so much the bike but more so the Gates Carbon Drive. Used to it by now, I happily stepped aside and let my bike enjoy the limelight.

Over grilled snapper and fries, a gigantic serve for $16, everybody was animated; lots of bike talk, race talk, laughs and happy faces and the ever recurring “Have you ever considered racing?” question. Kim looked across the table, smirk on his face, but I didn’t flinch. “Used to! Thinking about it. Maybe!”

With full bellies and shivering, the temperatures had dropped to 10C, we set off into the dark evening for a leisurely ride home and someone called after me “Join us again next time. We wanna see that bike of yours again!” And then “That’s impressive. A girl on a Fixie!”

What a nice bunch of people! What a great evening!

Over n' over

2011-05-23T20:25:00.002+10:00

Julie, my massage therapist, found my tight hip flexors and poked and prodded with her thumb... and then asked me if we were still friends. She also once said that some cyclists have the incredible capacity to hurt themselves in a race but are complete wussies when it comes to enduring the "good pain" on the massage table. I knew I should've kept breathing!

Against popular opinion, massages are not enjoyable, not always anyway. She said my legs would feel like lead the next day. She was right. She also said they would come good. I'll test that tomorrow morning.

Oh, and we are still friends!

And against another popular belief, staying in bed is not always easier than forcing yourself out of it either.

If there is one thing I learnt in the past two years, then it's to listen to my body (most of the time, getting better at it... yadayadayada). The past few days there were lots of signs and they were all saying: Get some rest! I mean there were not just subtle signs that are easy to ignore but big writing on the wall kinda signs and Friday morning I was wide awake at 4:30am and wanted to meet the guys for the Riverloop really badly but my heart rate was 60bpm and there were those other signs so I chained myself to my bed and made me sleep for another two hours. And yes, it did kill me! I sat there in my office the entire long day looking out the window... the sky was so incredibly blue!

Last but not least: when have you checked your bike last time before you headed out? I spotted this yesterday while washing mine:

I must've hit something substantial but do not recall anything that could have sliced my tyre. It was almost new, too, but I replaced it tonight because I don't want it to blow at 50 km/h coming down from McAfees tomorrow morning... uh, tomorrow morning: over 'n over, right? No sign will keep me in bed tomorrow. ;)

ProRace Berlin

2011-05-22T20:35:00.000+10:00

Sometimes, when I look at maps, I feel a little twinge of homesickness.

The below map may not mean much to you but when I look at it, all I see are images of places and people and past events. Vivid images of Love Parades on the Strasse des 17. Juni, parties under the Brandenburg Gate, the Grunewald and long summer evenings on my rollerblades, commutes between Potsdam and Charlottenburg, or pub crawls through Schoeneberg... the past floods my memory... and I really wished I was there today...

... to ride the course marked in that map, together with some 5000 other people. Berlin, a city with a long cycling tradition, will for the first time in many years host a UCI category 1.1 road race again today. Fabian Cancellara, Stuart O'Grady, Heinrich Haussler, Julian Dean... the start list goes on.

And there is a Jederman Rennen on the program, pretty much like a Fondo with two distances, 60 km and 120 km. The 120 km distance pretty much follows the course of the ProRace, only the Pro riders will add eight laps through the streets of Berlin at the end of the course to make it a 182.5 km distance. The results for the ProRace are not up on the website, they must be racing as I write this.

Maybe something to earmark for next year... spring is such a lovely time to ride a bike through Berlin and Brandenburg.

Challenge me!

2011-05-18T22:10:00.001+10:00

What is your usual response when your riding buddy takes off half-way up a climb? I'm a chaser. Mostly. But lately I have been content to just settle into my own rhythm and potter along.

Clear Mountain from the top

Mailman's Track from the top

After Sunday's strong solo ride up Clear Mountain and Mailman's Track, both reasonably steep little climbs, and a rest day on Monday, I felt quietly confident that I could push the pace on Tuesday's McAfee's Lookout Ride with my friend P.

The past few Tuesdays the ride had been a leisurely ascent in the dark; hard naturally but not on the rivet, not pushing past discomfort.

My times for the six kilometers climb were five minutes slower than my personal best but I cared little about that. I was happy just climbing. P was happy to hang back, to take it easy, to chat all the way. I knew she was hanging back. I knew she was being polite.

P is a dual Ironman and we both used to race bikes but we just enjoy riding nowadays. But don't think this means riding slowly! Quite the opposite! She is kicking my butt more than ever and she's still got the instinct. Once we reached the seven to eight percent gradient section of the climb, my breathing got laboured, and she went for the kill.

I don't know what had changed last Tuesday. Maybe we finally ran out of topics? Maybe she just heard my heavy breathing and some old instinct kicked in?

For three long kilometers I dug deep, pushed hard, and struggled to keep her flashing red rear light in sight. I knew instantly that this was what I needed to do if I wanted to improve my climbing again. If I just keep climbing at my same comfortable pace then climbing at that speed will be all I'll ever going to get better at.

As soon as I arrived at the lookout I told P to do this again next week. I thought I could have gone harder, stayed on her wheel ... don't we always think this later?

So next time a friend challenges you to a race, accept the challenge. I already look forward to next Tuesday but for now I leave you with some photos from this morning's really easy and very flat recovery ride to Nudgee Beach.

Full Moon

Plunkett Road Ride, Training Stress Scores (TSS) and Recovery

2011-05-14T15:30:00.001+10:00

Plunkett Road Ride had been scheduled for one of the long Easter weekend mornings. I had never heard of Plunkett Road and hadn’t joined the bunch back then because I had been nervous about the 110 km distance, especially since it was said to be lumpy. So I was excited to see the ride re-appear on last weekend’s Weekend Rides email.

Not that I had done any more long rides in between then and now but I just felt more confident and a bit more confidence is all that’s needed sometimes.

But even with confidence in abundance, it was a tough ride. How tough? 293.8 TSS and 0.901 IF – if you are not used to power data, just take my word for it that it was hard. A Training Stress Score (TSS) of 150 is hard enough to require at least one day of recovery and an Intensity Factor (IF) of 1 indicates that someone went just about as hard as possible, like for example in a 40 km time trial.

When I spotted Natalie at the meeting point, I was relieved that I wasn’t going to be the only female rider in the bunch. It was still dark when the eight of us set off. New roads and areas of Brisbane beckoned to be discovered and I was excited. The route would take us further South from Brisbane than I had ever been by bike.

The pace was at the high end of my tempo zone right from the start, which worried me a little bit, especially without a warm-up.

The temperature kept dropping and bottomed out at 11.2 C as the sun kept rising above the horizon, tinting the morning into warm hues of yellow and orange. No single digits, yet, and I knew that in another hour arm and knee warmers would come off. In fact, I was enjoying the crispness of the air more than the humidity and sweat soaked jerseys of summer.

The landscape turned from city living to semi-commercial and suburban; and soon we rode flat rural roads, chatting away and tapping out a nice steady tempo.

A sharp right hander and we were on Plunkett Road, which gave the ride its name. It was rolling hills from there, lush scrubby forest, sleepy cows, scared ducks, steamy horses, the occasional driveway with a house hidden amongst trees.

A minor mechanical gave an opportunity to recover somewhat before the rolling hills continued. I was determined to stay in contact with the group even though I started dangling off the back somewhat on every rise. So I was digging deep and just like during set three of your reps on the leg press my muscles started to fatigue. I could feel the brain willing my quads to push out big Watts but the impulse from my brain wasn't arriving in my legs anymore. Miraculously a hand appeared now and then on my back and gave me a second wind (or big push :-) ), which definitely helped not dropping off completely. (Thank you, Alberto!) Before I knew it, we were back on familiar roads and I couldn't believe when we arrived at the coffee shop and the ride was over. On one hand I was glad we had the car parked there because I don't think I would have managed another 30 km to get home but on the other hand I could have just kept riding forever...

So how about recovery times after a long hard ride like that one last Sunday?

I joined my friend P for the climb up to Mc Afees Lookout on Tuesday morning (one day recovery) and my legs were heavy like lead. This ride added 127TSS.

By Wednesday afternoon (two and a half days recovery but additional TSS from the previous day) I felt generally fatigued so I skipped the Threshold Intervals on the rollers and just spun my legs easily for an hour (44TSS).

I didn't ride on Thursday at all.

Yesterday morning (four days after the ride but with another 171TSS accumulated by then) my legs felt finally fresh again for the Friday Riverloop. I love my Friday Riverloops, even in these single digit temperatures (8.5C) and isn't Brisbane pretty at five thirty in the morning?

Time to pin a number again?

2011-05-07T16:00:00.002+10:00

The Piccolo Fondo didn't start until eleven, which I - at first - thought was brilliant because of the sleep-in. Little did I know that the Master's A race was scheduled to start at 6:30 am. So before the sun was up, the house was a flurry of excitement, air static like soft hair after pulling the knitted jumper over your head. Since sleep was out of question I also got up and played the "good wife" and helped clear the pre-race chaos. With best intentions I ended up mainly hugging my coffee quietly and staying out of everyone's way.

After seeing the boys off to their 83 km stage three race, another coffee, a chat and a walk on the beach, a little bit of reading, a bowl of muesli and third coffee along the way somewhere, it was still only nine o'clock.

By the time we were finally out on the road, I was as keen as a bean. There were tandems and mountainbikes, I even saw a Singlespeed ... all sorts and lots of women, which was great to see. An official escort on bike set the tempo in the front. We all had been given numbers to pin on and transponders for the finishing times but I think they were more a precaution so that no one got left out on course after dark.

The tempo was moderate, rather slow actually. Saskia, who I ran into just before the start and I used to race with a couple of years ago, next to me also seemed antsy "Let's go to the front. This speed, it'll take us three hours...". Surprised and immensely grateful I pulled into the middle of the road and passed the group. Her words were music to my ears. We sat at the front for a while, two abreast, bunch on our wheels and just pedalled and chatted, sand dunes and ocean to our left, scrubby forest to our right and a brisk cross-head wind.

I remembered that it was a social ride and decided to roll off for a breather. The group had dwindled somewhat - oopsy - but was still eight or ten strong. Not long before I found myself on the front again, feeling like an over-excited dog pulling on a leash. It was single file now because the road was a tad busy and had not much of a shoulder.

Little boys carrying big surfboards at Cabarita Beach, beautiful waves breaking at Hastings Point, Sunday market shoppers in Pottsville - colourful little seaside communities along the Tweed Valley Road and Saskia and I kept rolling turns with a strong looking guy who was foxing and an older guy who was skipping turns, determined to stay with us. By the time we left the flat and windy coastal road and turned inland, it was just strong guy and us two girls.

We were joined by the official Escort on Bike guy, a local guy whose task it was to make sure all participants were safe on the road. Finally the road turned again and we hit some hills. Strong Guy looked big so I didn't think he would go well on the hills but he surprised me. I stayed on his wheel on the first climb and my legs started to burn, the good burn, and I wanted to push harder but it was a social ride, right?

He was heavy and dropped me down the hill the other side. I chased. Flew along the rough road and through potholes. Heartrate high. Happy. Saskia right behind me. My magnet on my rear wheel slipped with the rattling, causing it to bang against the transmitter with every revolution. A bloody annoying noise and it wasn't a race so I stopped briefly to slip the magnet back in place and tightened it. Saskia and our chaperone soft pedalled to allow me to get back on, strong guy disappeared up the road.

More hills and the countryside was so incredibly pretty, green fields down below, the white of the beaches and the deep blue of the ocean in the distance. The beige highway dotted with colourful cars looked tiny from the tall bridges. The roads we used almost entirely car-free.

Another right turn and we were back on the busy coastal road, with a tailwind this time. Glued to the rear wheel of Chaperone we were hitting 40 km/h. It wasn't a race but secretly I hoped we would still pick up Strong Guy before the finish line in Casuarina. 57 km in 1:51:35hrs and deeply satisfied, later in the pool I realised: It was a hard ride but it didn't hurt one bit.

I smiled when I saw AMR's remark on the QSM results websites Time to pin a number?

Weekends like this should last forever

2011-05-04T22:30:00.001+10:00

Boring is one of the kindest things I heard people say about the architecture of Salt, a coastal development just south of the Queensland/New South Wales border (hence the race title Battle on the Border), where every house looks brand new like the next - huge, showy, uninspired mansions.

The House

So we weren't exactly roughing it at the beach shack. The house was big enough to accommodate eight of us, five racers and three social riders, and it didn't feel crammed. But I heard many a complaint about the pool not being heated!

The Pool

The Beach

In an attempt to maximise beach and pool time, I had only committed to the Piccolo Fondo (57 km) instead the Fondo (136 km). A distance inbetween, something between 80-90km would have been ideal but that wasn't on offer. I met Saskia. We used to race together a few years ago but hadn't seen each other in over a year. We rode the 57 km together. Someone said to me later at the coffee shop that I had come second. Insisting that it had been a social ride, we joked Pin a number on us and give us a finish line and it's inevitable that we will try and drop the bunch.

The Briefing

Dinner conversations did not only cover the race action but also the mechanics of speed wobbles.

The Fuel

And it didn't bother me to put up with sweaty, nervous and, at times, cranky racers because I remember the feeling all too well; the aching body, the nerves before each stage, the lethargy after three hours in the afternoon heat, the increasing fatigue and the dehydration ... call me soft in my old days but I didn't miss any of that.

The Warm-up

The Smile

The Pain

Back in the office, my thoughts stray frequently back to the house near the beach full of bikes. Let's face it, we didn't spend the weekend at Salt for the architecture. The Tweed Coast has plenty to offer. Tell me, where else can you pack sugar-cane lined roads, rainforest green climbs, cross-windy beach roads, sand dunes and honey-scented Melaleuca forests into a 45 km loop of road; and all this under azure blue skies?

The Ride

The Sugar Cane

The Scenery

Weekends like this should never be as few and far between.

Night & Day...

2011-04-30T13:09:00.002+10:00

Alberto's new Exposure lights had arrived on Thursday. He didn't feel like cooking, I didn't feel like doing the dishes, the new lights needed to be tried and I'd never say "No" to a ride... so we cruised down to Westend for some Mexican.

I could have kept riding the entire night, and then some more this morning but we stopped for coffee and then I had to hurry to my massage.

Piccolo Fondo tomorrow ... and then some more riding. I don't know what it is but right now I'm crazy for my bike and I get cranky when it rains... I haven't felt like this in a very long time.

It's all over - apparently

2011-04-26T15:53:00.002+10:00

I googled Fixie Fashion last night. Alberto had to work and finally, after four days off work and most of the housework done, sweet boredom set in for a few seconds so I went searching for inspiration.

But oh shock and horror: Apparently it's all over already! Those of you who are regular readers of BSNYC will probably ask "What's new? It was over a long time ago!"

So can I relax now?

It may be over for the rest of the world, but this is Oz and I only just had my first unintentional scare-skid (and loved it)... and since the world had its laughs about fixie-riding hipsters, we can avoid any of the inexplicable Fixie Fashions and just go on and enjoy riding our Fixies from here on without having to worry about looking cool... Thank you, America (and England)!

Now I just need to find myself a piece of string and an abandoned factory building...

One gear No idea from chris akrigg on Vimeo.

...because - obviously - this stuff can't be learnt any other way.

Oh, and by the way, I had the orange rim idea before I came across this clip but I agree with bikesgonewild - on Alberto's bike, not mine! ;-)

Converts

2011-04-24T19:08:00.000+10:00

Alberto bought a very stealth looking Singlespeed/Fixie last week. You are probably not surprised and only wonder what took him so long.

And with his natural sense of style and street cool fashion, he had the urban chic down pat immediately, while I have to work on my wardrobe and the uncool grin in my face.

Then John decided that yesterday was the day to breathe new Soul into his Urban by flipping the wheel to fixed and what can I say? The same thing happened to him that happened to me a couple of weeks ago. I can't see him going back to Singlespeed anytime soon, if ever. Hooked, I say!

Yesterday afternoon Alberto and I played some more, just outside the house on the street (it's a quiet suburban street so don't start about the helmet!)

And after checking out Alberto's new bike I was back on my own practising track stand and felt like a kid again, hanging out with my best buddy. Who will move first? Who will step the foot down?

While I think Alberto's bike would look good with Deep V rims in white, orange rims for the Peacemaker would look kinda cool.

We are just in from another ride. White-rimmed Singlespeeds everywhere. Maybe it's true what they say that when you buy a certain model car, you all of the sudden see this model car driving around everywhere even though you took no notice of it before. It's because your brain pays attention, powerful stuff ... but those five singlespeeds within twenty minutes of hitting the bike path... I'm sure it's really a new phenomenon and not just my brain being tuned in. It's really taking off.

Anyway: I duck deep into my wardrobe today and came up with this for the Fixie ride. Dee? What ya think?

The weight difference

2011-04-17T17:33:00.002+10:00

Fog dipped the Brisbane River into a soft early light. It was a beautiful Friday morning on the bike. San Francisco usually hides it's prettiness in thick fog; Brisbane is less shy and does it rarely, which makes it more special.

Kurilpa Bridge and Brisbane city in the mist

The fog also reminded me of Melbourne, just the air was less frosty. After the excitement of race day and a deep restful sleep I had rolled Alberto's 28T geared Baw Baw Beast (Zipp wheels and tubulars and all) down the hotel hallway into the elevator and through an empty lobby, past a sleepy concierge, and had joined legions of city cyclists on their Monday morning commute down St Kilda Road. I was rugged up to the teeth (beanie, under shirt, knee and arm warmers, gillet etc) and it's merely autumn. I love Melbourne but I don't know how the guys and girls down there cope with riding in winter.

Bike path in St Kilda, Melbourne skyline in the distance

So with all the riding and Yoga lately, I finally managed to loose the three kilos that I happily carried around with me since our Phuket holiday last year and I feel good about myself; except if there wasn't this tiny little problem with relativity. Alberto has been putting me under a bit of pressure lately.

I don't know how you feel about this (and by you I mean you girls who live with a cyclist) but I hate to be as heavy as my man (or my man to be as light as me - whichever way you want to see it). Like Milan Kundera's said in "The unbearable lightness of being" that it is an essential need of a woman to feel the weight of a man...

You know there is this ideal age difference between a man and a woman, which a vast majority of people seem to agree to be five years.

Is there an ideal weight difference, too?

Alberto was a good 20 kg heavier than me when we met. He lost a few kilos when he started cycling, then a few more when he discovered climbing. We both gained and lost weight within the five kilo range over the past few years but a minimum ten kilo gap remained between us. Now with all this weight weenie business leading up to the Mt Baw Baw race, he ate into my ten kilo buffer (pun intended) and I don't like it. It makes me feel fat and compelled to loose weight, too, to keep things in balance.

Do you feel the same? And if so what is your ideal weight difference?

Mt Baw Baw

2011-04-12T20:48:00.002+10:00

Our friend Mick once said after racing the Mt Baw Baw Classic a few years ago that it takes three months out of a racer’s life expectancy. It was the first time I had heard about this annual event on the Victorian race calendar.

Debs also raced it and called it the wrath of Baw Baw that makes grown men cry. Talk like that made Alberto want to race this race, badly!

It’s now more than 24 hours since he rolled over the finishing line in fourth place, drawn cheeks, glassy black-ringed eyes and all shivers, and he still hasn’t said anything about the race, yet. But I’m sure, in time, he, too, will coin some phrase that will be repeated amongst cyclists in Brisbane coffee shops.

Having seen the course and witnessed the struggle from the warmth and comfort of the support car, I certainly have come up with my sentences that summarise the experience for me: Glad to be in a car! and Oh man, I’m going to pee my pants!

Over the past two weeks meal times were not much fun. Alberto refused his usual seconds of my lovingly cooked meal, or only requested light salads for dinner. Anyone with the will power to not even touch the much beloved mayonnaise is serious about the quest for lightness, which I now understand.

A triumphal announcement from the bathroom that race weight had been reached, an uneventful flight to Melbourne, a pleasant rental car and hotel and delicious pasta in Lygon St on Saturday night, the stage was set for an exciting weekend of racing.

But race morning came and Alberto woke up to sneezes. He sounded all blocked up and sniffy and when he asked me to drive the 100km to Warragul, the start of the race, I knew I needed to get him on his bike as soon as possible.

A bit worried I took the short cut to the feed area about 50 km into the race. As I stood there, shivering in the icy drizzle despite beanie and warm winter jumper, I heard more Baw Baw stories from other anxious support crews. "If you are cold now, wait till you are at the top" the nice Italian lady warned me empathetical. Perfect conditions, a friendly young guy told me, because half of the field had apparently abandoned the race at this point in Neerim the previous year. It was his wife’s second attempt after she had climbed in the support car at the bottom of the last climb, the final six kilometres to the Mt Baw Baw resort. Rain and sleet coming down horizontally had made it impossible for anyone dropped and out on their own to make the cut off times.

Lucky, I thought, that 10C and intermittent drizzle was perfect conditions.

Not long and the Masters 4/5 lead car approached, a bunch of thirty riders close behind.

Excited I jumped in the car immediately after passing Alberto’s water bottle, happy to see him in the bunch. A few minutes later I found myself driving second car behind the bunch. Prime position for any winning team, I felt like a true directeur sportive. 47 km to the finish and we were moving along at 30 km an hour. My own water bottle, stuck to the middle console, was almost empty.

The next incline saw a few guys drop off the back. I spotted Alberto up in about tenth place, hidden mostly, racing smart, looking comfortable. Another climb, this time longer and a bit steeper, maybe four kilometres long, more guys getting shed and by the time the road crested, the bunch had wiggled down to nine riders, Alberto comfortably among them.

The discomfort seemed only at my part. The water! I shouldn’t have drunk the entire bottle.

A fast and furious descent! Alberto off the back suddenly. How did that happen? Go, go, go! I yelled into the loneliness of the car. And he went, closing up to the other two guys off the back, passed them, pushed on, connected back to the back of the other seven, passed even a couple of them … I was on the edge of my car seat. And not just because of the excitement... I needed a toilet.

Why hadn't I gone to the loo at the feed? Too late now, there was no way I was going to give up my prime spot in a long line of support cars. Not for a pee. Not right now.

More climbing and more descending through incredibly beautiful fern forest, the pretty winding road was dotted with struggling riders from other grades. Less than 30 km to go but the nine remaining riders were climbing now at a rate of maybe 15km/h. More dropped riders, a whole bunch of them; it turned out to be the Elite Men C bunch, or what was left of them. They had started ten minutes before Alberto’s race, and with them another lead car and support car.

No, no, no, don’t stop me right now…

The commissaire picked up something from the road and jumped back in his car and pulled out onto the road in front of me. When we got going again, Alberto and his companions had climbed way ahead, out of sight. Stuck behind the wrong bunch, I could hardly concentrate. I was going to pee my pants anytime now. Should I stop and find some bushes by the roadside?

Yes, finally, hand appeared out of the car window ahead of me, waiving me pass. About time, and I started to chase Alberto.

The road looked steep but I knew the steepest part was yet to come. Six kilometres to go. I yo-yo-ed back and forth, and when we hit the clouds, everything slowed down another notch.

The thick fog wrapping everything into grey cotton, ghost riders appearing out of the mist, tired faces passing in slow motion, hands frozen and shivering, not able to hold the camera still... it all appeared strangely surreal.

Only when Alberto and I sat in the warmth of the resort with a cup of hot chocolate, reality set in again. What a marvellous race, what a result!

Does it feel like training?

2011-04-07T20:22:00.000+10:00

Sunrise at Mt Coot-tha this morning

Once there was a girl with a road bike. She wished nothing more in life but to become a light and powerful climber. A fairy named Coach appeared and said: Girl, if you do as I tell you and go and do three repeats on Mt Coot-tha twice a week and you will be diligent and consistent in this duty, I promise I will turn you into the fast and graceful climber that you wish to be.

And the girl went and climbed Mt Coot-tha three times on Tuesdays and Thursdays and slowly, over time, indeed became a somewhat better climber.

Now, we all know that the improvement hadn't been fairy magic but a physiological adaptation to exercise, in short: Training!

Eeeeewwww, I said it, the terrible "T" word.

Tuesday night I spent an hour on the rollers after work, just like I had done in the past three weeks. Not just easy pedalling either. I had added some structured intervals just to take the edge off boredom. While three weeks ago I felt nauseous after the first five minutes of tempo (because my body didn't remember how intensity felt like) week after week I was able to add time and watts until, this week, I spent an entire 20 minutes at the "sweet spot" just between Tempo and Functional Threshold.

Monday and Wednesday were Yoga nights and gym sessions will be replaced by Pilates from next week onwards, to try something new.

This morning I found myself climbing Mt Coot-tha again, like in these olden fairytale days but I didn't chase climbing prowess. I simply enjoyed the morning, the sunrise and riding up the hill with fifty or so other cyclists (who were all told by their fairies I believe).

And tomorrow morning I can't wait to again join one of my favourite bunches for a Riverloop.

There were plenty of long weekend rides in the past few weeks, too, not to mention the urban fixed gear adventures and without really noticing it, I raked up between 150-200 weekly kilometers consistently since I returned from California.

So does it feel like training? Strangely enough it doesn't! I mean, let's be honest here: if it looks, tastes and smells like training, it probably is training but in all honesty I'm just having a hellofaloto'fun just riding my bike.

And needless to say: I'm feeling great doing so! Whether it's the change of season with cool crispness and a hint of winter in the air, or the chiropractor visits, the massages that I'm having regularly again or the lemonade... oh, I haven't mentioned the lemonade, yet, have I? Now that's a whole other story, which I will tell you another time. For today I have to go to bed because ... yeah right, you guessed it... I wanna ride my bike in the morning!

I love all my bikes the same

2011-04-04T21:05:00.000+10:00

Fifty-one kilometers and not one meter coasted, easily done on a Fixie.

Finally the perfect bike for a gentle Riverloop on a Saturday morning, I still have to adjust my wardrobe though. Lycra doesn't go well with the bike but it's so convenient while it's still hot.

To my surprise Alberto waited at our meeting spot when John and I rolled up to collect Suz. He had left the house much earlier with another friend and I hadn't expected to see him until lunch time. Nice surprise!

The four of us set off and the first thing Suz asked me was if I now only ride my Fixie Inc.

My mountainbike lives a bit of a stepchild existence in the garage while roadie and fixie stay in the house and get equal attention.

Little pangs of guilt while maneuvering through the roundabout, third exit! Not that the mountainbike will ever come inside, it's too dirty for that, but I really wanna make an effort and take it out soon again.

While lost in thoughts about what bike I like best, the Fixie started picking up speed. The fast dive down towards the railway crossing with a sharp right-hander that I love ... on my roadie ... but now it was freaking me out how the bike got faster and faster and with it my cadence and once I started bouncing in the saddle, the legs started squaring off and resisted the high pedal motion. I didn't dare to brake too hard or too quickly. Suz and John already disappeared around the corner behind the tracks, and I could feel Alberto's worried look in my back. But I managed to get control back over my legs and feet and the longer I rode the faster the downhill sections became. I'll have to take my spin-ups a lot more seriously from now.

After coffee I offered Alberto to swap bikes for the trip home but I was secretly glad when he declined because I just loved the outing so much. What a ride!

To be completely honest, I still ride the road bike most often. It takes me much farther and to places the Fixie can't go, Clear Mountain and beyond for example. That's where I headed Sunday morning, by myself and with the Fondo in mind. Sixty-three kilometers, mostly hilly and I could have just lost myself forever.

Clear Mountain Road

With two very steep sections of about half a kilometer length, the view is well deserved. Brisbane in the distance.

And the Glasshouse Mountains way in the distance in the other direction.

Lots of water under the old wooden bridge on Bunya Road where there is usually just a trickle.

Roads how I like them!

Gran Fondo

2011-03-28T20:49:00.001+10:00

An email arrived in my inbox the other day. It had a rather large attachment. My cursor shot for the delete button, slightly irritated. The same sharp annoyance I felt last time at the gym. Somewhat frazzled already, I snapped at my Personal Trainer when she asked me when I'll start racing again. Later I blamed the "hyper-moon" for my irritability. Heck, the whole world seemed short-fused and edgy this past week.

The reason for my reaction to the email? It was the Battle on The Border race announcement. How fast one year has gone. Last year I was certain I would race this year. I didn't delete the email but open the Race Announcement Flyer. The "Tweed Daily News Social Events" caught my eyes: Piccolo Fondo - 57km, Fondo - 136km and Gran Fondo - 177km. Gran Fondo! I love the old-world charm of the word. It evokes vivid images of Italian country roads, a flurry of colours and wheels and cheerful non-competitive competitiveness in the saddle.

Gran Fondo! First of May - 32 days to the event. Right now I ride 80 km comfortably, 100km is a stretch, especially if climbs are part of the course. Gran Fondo! - the inner voice keeps whispering. Too grand for me right now with the amount of preparation time but Fondo might be just the right distance for some spark?

Why ride a Fixie?

2011-03-23T07:35:00.000+10:00

Fixie skidding zone?!

Coffee machine conversation in the office on a Monday morning: "What did you get up to this weekend?" "I rode my Fixie!"

Interest, not faked, but comprehension difficulties and after some explanation the lightbulb moment: yes, yes, when I was a child my very first bike was like that. And then more probing with a disapproving frawn. "Why would you ride a ... Fixie?" One of those guys who rode a bike just long enough to get a license, you know. So I was patient.

How to explain? He did understand the "coolness factor" thing but do I really ride a Fixie just to be cool? There is more to it! I thought about it more carefully and I realised that, at first and for a long time, I felt intimidated by the thought of riding a bike with no freehub, the same way I felt intimidated by rollers at first. I don't like to be intimidated so I had to try it. Simple!

But that's still not the whole story. It will improve my pedalling style. It will force me to pedal through corners, something I can hardly bring myself to do. It will stop me from pushing off the road and damaging my shoes and I will have to spin my legs when I usually coast.

And above all it's incredible fun!

So the real question should be: Why not ride a Fixie?

Our perspective

2011-03-17T07:02:00.000+10:00

The unbearable lightness of cycling

2011-03-13T15:05:00.003+10:00

Australia Post's tag line is "We deliver". They just don't say when and my 22T cog took four weeks to arrive from Germany. Not that I needed the extra cog to ride fixed, I just wanted it that way. I figured it would be easier to have both sides set up to flip between freewheel and fixed hub whenever I feel. Plus, I wasn't sure how quickly I would catch on to the whole Fixie fixation, and keeping the back (read: singlespeed) door open seemed a good option.

Curious and independ, I mounted the cog and aligned the belt to make sure everything was working fine when I would arrive at Nundah for my first fixed gear attempt. Alberto sounded disappointed when he came home from his ride (I had slept in ... the usual): "You don't need a man for those things." I do need a man for the praise through. But truth to be told, praise was not deserved because it was too easy to screw the cog to the wheel. The alignment was a little more tricky but I had done it before. The plan was to meet my friend John, who had prepared his bike in a similar fashion, for our usual Sandgate loop on Singlespeed, stop at Nundah and flip the wheel over and have our first go at fixed gear riding on the track.

Again it took me a few minutes to align the belt but nothing too tedious. John had a much harder time loosening up his rear wheel and eventually gave up. Maybe he was just not ready for cool ...?

How did it go? Glad to be able to concentrate just on the pedalling and not having to worry about cars, taking off for the first time straight away jerked up my foot, sending my unsuspecting femur through my butt ... an interesting feeling, which I was able to enjoy several more time. Ever touched the electric fence of cow paddock when you were kids? It's the same sort of feeling. Even though you know that your leg would fly in the air from the low voltage electric shock, it surprises.

Finding the pedal and clipping in while the pedals are turning, unclipping and coming to a stand still while pedalling, transitioning from standing to sitting ... easy manouvers that made me realise how often I actually stop pedalling. Seriously, I'm the coasting queen but after several laps around the track I felt comfortable enough to actually ride the six kilometers home, slowly. While I haven't attempted an emergency stop, nor have I ridden in heavy traffic, yet, I found this easier than mastering rollers. Needless to say that the Peacemaker won't flip-flop back to freewheel in a hurry! It's a proper Fixie now, people! New things to try, challenges to face, things to learn, satisfy my competitive mind and keep a smile on my face. For now!

Cycling and Chiropractic

2011-03-09T21:55:00.000+10:00

This post has been sitting in the draft folder for several weeks now, unfinished. I've been meaning to write it since I started seeing a Chiropractor again in December. And I'll be upfront with this one: I'm a true believer in chiropractic.

Is any of this bothering you:

Saddle sores, always on the same spot or same side?
The feeling of sitting lobsided on your saddle, especially when riding hands-free?
Niggling pains in body while riding, e.g. sore hips, neck, shoulders, tingling hands?

But not only that. How about:

Slow recovery or healing?
Lack of power?
Muscle tension?
Clicky jaw?

That an aligned pelvis and equally long legs are conducive to strong pedalling action is pretty obvious but how about a crooked neck? Don't need 'ya neck for riding, do ya?

These are the latest X-rays of my neck, taken just over a year ago after my car accident, and if you know a thing or two about spinal health, you will spot curves were there shouldn't be any and straight lines where there should be curves. But that's pretty standard for someone my age. Years of bad posture, unhealthy habits, thoughtless slumps, a few bike crashes and said car accident - viola!

So what does a misaligned pelvis and a famously stuffed up neck do to the rest of the body?

According to my chiropractor I'm a Cat 2, going on Cat 1 - with his assistance over the past three months. This would be a good thing in cycling terms. And to no surprise for some: I'll probably never be "Normal" again.

It means that some muscles in my body pull hard on the bone to keep things in check, which causes their counterpart muscles on the other side to pull even harder to compensate. Pull, pull, pull ... all the way up into the cul-de-sac, the head(ache). It also means that pressure is put on the nerves that run along the spine, blocking information from the spine to organs. With signals not getting through, the body can't work at it's best. And with all this going on before even clipping in, why expect to ride or race well?

The more I realise the impact of all this not only on my cycling, but on everything I want be good at in life, I can't stress enough the importance of a healthy spine. But don't think I'm just an advocate for chiropractic. Yoga, in my opinion, achieves the same thing, it just requires more discipline, time and patience.

Roads so steep ...

2011-03-02T21:37:00.001+10:00

Strange thoughts go through my mind in the eerie darkness of an economy class cabin, five hours into a thirteen hour flight. Things like the wonders of time difference! Here I was, flying through tomorrow's night to arrive and relive the morning of the very same day on arrival, only in another place on another continent. And then I realised that the night isn't tomorrow's night, nor last night nor tonight - it's always the same night, following the same day circling the same earth. Funny, I never saw it that way.

Too deep?

Ok, I flew BNE to LAX and spent a few days in San Francisco, a night in Las Vegas and another in Los Angeles. Mostly work, a little play, too. I hope this explains the long absence.

I had the great opportunity to go on a day trip with bikesgonewild and I cannot praise enough the generosity with which he shared his time, fuel, knowledge and passion for bikes in a city full of bicycles, riders, bike shops and good coffee. Shame it had to be fossil and not muscle energy we burnt and I suffered bouts of jealousy watching all the thousands of people out on bikes, followed by bouts of ecstasy visiting bike shops in Sausalito. Well, all I can say is "Thank you" and "I will be back - with bike".

And while I'm sitting here now, back home in Oz, enjoying a nice glass of Chardonnay from the Napa Valley and photoshopping all the memories, I realise how long it has been since riding my bike (not counting stationary monsters in hotel gyms).

There is only one thing that leaves me puzzled about San Francisco: Why on earth would anyone want to ride a Fixie where the roads are so steep that taxi drivers entertain their young passengers by telling them to lean forward so the car won't flip over backwards?

Of rainbows, power data and San Francisco!

2011-02-17T21:32:00.000+10:00

... and why I still like my Powermeter and what I have learnt from the past.

Last week I got a bit carried away and ended up riding 270 immensely pleasurable kilometers. Now that would be a pretty average training week - if I was indeed training. But for a fun week of pedalling, it was standing out amongst all those other average kilometer weeks - none of them reaching 200 km.

AMR keeps telling me to dump my Garmin and Powertap and just ride purely on feel. Me? No gadgets? Oh uh! Nah! Especially now that the Powertap is actually working... and I like my data. I like downloading the ride and I like analysing it. I like the hours and kilometers adding up, I like keeping a record and track. And! Probably the most nerdy thing: it gives me historical data.

Because sometimes, when you are there, right in the middle of it, you might look at the data but don't understand. The numbers might stare you right in the face, scream at you "What the hell are you doing?" but you don't get it, don't speak the language. Because you are doing the training and you wanna get to a goal so badly that your brain blocks out what could distract from achieving it. But a year later, and after feeling the pain, it all becomes clear. Because you now know what happened after!

Look at the chart below. That's last year's data. Remember I was struggling with illness and then got the clear from the doctor that I can train again. Why the hell didn't anybody tell me? Right! I was self-coaching ... and probably wouldn't have listened anyway. The need to make up lost time and get back to fitness as quickly as possible - sounds familiar? As you can see, I pretty much doubled my Training Stress Score (TSS) from April to May and then increased load by another 20% in June. And all this on the back of illness - no wonder I crashed and burnt came August!

And since I'm getting up again at the crack of dawn to ride my bike for fun with friends, I just don't want to repeat past mistakes. The Powermeter helps me keeping TSS and saddle time nice and steady and increasing load only gradually.

But there will be no riding for the next ten days because tomorrow I'm off to a city I have been dreaming of visiting since the age of 13. Hello San Francisco! :)

Aquarius in the fish shop

2011-02-03T20:57:00.001+10:00

When I handed the money over the tall glass counter with all the pieces of fish laid out underneath, the nice kid behind the register said: "Hey, the guy out there at the table is checking you out!" It was said in a matter fact, amused kind of way with no hint of sleaze. I still felt annoyed. It was an odd thing to say and I wasn’t sure how to react. The kid, sensing he might have crossed a line, confidently added in an attempt to save it: "He looked you up and down, really!" And while handing over the change and receipt, he demonstrated the look, the once-over. It made me laugh.

Still not sure what to think, I couldn’t help scanning the tables on my way out and there he was, the once-over guy, doing it again. The relieved, almost victorious, call came from inside the fish shop “See!” and the confirmation from me, laughingly, and equally loud over my shoulder: “Yeap, saw it!” ... while I walked away with my paper-wrapped fish in my hand and a schmick grin on my face.

I laughed all the way back to the office ‘cause – let’s face it - with another birthday less than a week away, this may as well have been the last time I got checked out by a random guy in a fish shop!

Why am I telling you all this? Well, it was the highlight of my week ... still wondering why I haven't written much lately?

I do ride my bike and could tell you about the Wednesday morning ride! But that wouldn't be as funny or exciting as the fish shop story. Not for me anyway. Oh, what the heck! Here it is: it started with a magpie head-butting me on the way to town (it is February, right?!), then my friend P braking her chain and, after loading her into a taxi, me riding on alone. It started pouring rain and I got soaking wet and if all that hadn't been enough, a vicious little pincher had his day. He saw me and came charging out of a drive way, puffing his little chest and yapping his little bark and snapping his tiny teeth at my Sidis. Or was it my pink socks, which I was wearing with new-found pride and confidence, that had set him off?

... no need to comment on this post by the way ... and if you do, be kind! ;-)

The wrong bike?

2011-01-30T22:02:00.001+10:00

A couple of nights ago, we went window shopping on the internet for bikes … just for fun! A bike I would like to buy if I needed a new bike … of course … has an aero frame. I declared that I wanted an aero framed bike. What for? Just because! If I’d buy a new bike I’d like it to be different from my current bike.

An aero bike would be the wrong bike for you!

Wrong bike? Why wrong bike? And is there such a thing like a wrong bike?

You don't need an aero bike. You’d be that girl! Which girl? You know! I’ve got no idea what you are talking about. You know ... these people who have the top of the range bikes and never win anything, who have all the gear but no idea how to ride a bike … the ones everybody makes fun of at the coffee shop…

Oh, that girl!

And with that I decided to sell my Corima wheels. I’ve ridden them once in the past 12 months, and let’s face it: I don’t need them! I won’t be racing again anytime soon.

But! Should I ever get back to some sort of race fitness … I will buy that top of the range aero dream of mine … which, by the way, comes with carbon racing wheels.

I ♥ Brisbane!

2011-01-16T16:05:00.002+10:00

Notably more cyclists flocked to the dry roads of Brisbane on Friday. Mt Nebo road was closed, but the city council worker waived at Petrina and I when we were torn between respecting or ignoring the sign, and so we went ahead, not the only cyclists up the mountain. The landslides had been cleared, at least all the way to McAfee's lookout where we turned around.

Kurilpa Bridge was open yesterday so I crossed over to the southern side of the river. The pylons of William Jolly bridge showed marks how far the water had come up. Although, back in its river bed, the water still reached up to the bike path, much higher than I had ever seen, a fast flowing muddy soup. The bike path, already cleaned with only a few neatly piled stacks of rubble left, looked ready to be re-opened soon.

Under the William Jolly Bridge the paintings were undamaged. Over four years ago I used to join a Riverloop group that rode through this part of town and there were always Aboriginal people sleeping on mouldy mattresses under this bridge. Awkward best describes how I felt about riding through their "bedroom". Kurilpa is the Aboriginal word for the South Brisbane and West End area. It means place for water rats. I remember vividly how I was told over coffee how well the indigenous owners of this area know the river and that they move inland to higher grounds when the river is about to flood. It was beyond my imagination back then that this mild-mannered river could ever break its banks.

West End with Go Between bridge in the background - before the clean up!

Southbank boardwalk - gone!

Riverside Expressway - the ferry ramp washed away, the bike path underneath the road still submerged

Three days of sunshine had turned slick covered roads into dust pists. The Gallery of Modern Art's basement still full of water, being pumped out by city council workers, two men in high visibility vests and gum boots leaning over the back of their ute, having a chat and a smoke, the guy at the diary factory, the truck driver with a load of rubble, as I was riding through all those familiar streets, shocked and sad at first, I started to notice people's faces - smiling faces. Broad, open and honest Australian smiles everywhere, full of optimism, the type of smile when you know you've done a marvelous job, deeply satisfied with the progress of a tough task at hand.

A dinghy tied to a tree in the Botanical Garden

And the day's hard work was visible everywhere. People are getting on with cleaning up to get on with their lives, in true Australian fashion.

I ♥ Brisbane!

Hard work and optimism alone won't get Brisbane back to it's former glory. A lot of money will be needed, too, so here you can find out how to help or donate.

Make hay (or ride your bike) while the sun shines

2011-01-12T16:29:00.000+10:00

The last two posts were headed by proverbs so I thought I might continue with another ...

It was very quiet when I woke up this morning. I thought it strange but didn't immediately figure out what was different. You would expect it to be quiet at five thirty in the morning.

Then I opened the curtains and there it was … I was blinded by the brightness of the day and couldn’t believe my eyes. After days of grey soggy misery I had missed the constant drum of the rain on the roof. I had started to believe the sun and blue skies were fabled things no human had actually ever seen, right up there with mermaids and unicorns.

There was no need to rush to get to work, even though it was Wednesday, a regular working day. And that was not because of the floods. Our office is far enough away from the CBD or other suburbs along the Brisbane River that got evacuated yesterday. I had already requested the day off sometime last week, way before anyone anticipated the devastation that nature and brown muddy water brought.

They say there is more to come and I hope for all that it won't be as bad as 1974 or worse. But for now the sun's out and Alberto's coming home today.

I put the coffee on and then the anticipated phone call came, half good and half bad news. Alberto had landed in Australia but not in Brisbane and he would now be on the next domestic flight in a few hours time.

With unexpected hours to spare, the roads drying, the sun out and the Peacemaker begging to be ridden, I sent a text message to John so we met at 8:30! Got to make hay (or ride a bike) while the sun’s shining … even if some of the roads and bike paths are flooded.

In moments like this there is a real advantage of having two sets of shoes and helmets. My black ensemble still wet from Saturday's adventure ... Mt Nebo Rd is now covered by mudslides ... it had to be the white combo. Maybe not ideal for a day like today but I would have gotten my best Sunday dress muddy for all I cared.

Alberto just called, from Brisbane now. I'm off to the airport ... how exciting!

There is no such thing like bad weather ...

2011-01-09T10:07:00.001+10:00

... for that you have your oldest bibs and jerseys.

When I was riding along in the drizzle yesterday, full of road grime, I actually didn't mind the weather. There was a refreshing cool cleanness in the air and not the oppressing mugginess typical for this time of year.

But then, ten to five this morning, I was just about to leave the house in knicks circa 2007 to meet some friends, the heavens opened. And it wasn't a drizzle, nor a light rain, the amount of water contained in each and every drop clearly passed my wet threshold and I went back to bed.

I'm starting to consider to sell my bikes and purchase something more appropriate for our current road conditions. Or do you remember our discussion on bikes for every occasion? Well, right now there is the need for something like this:

Or this:

Or maybe we should consider an entire new discipline: Cyclocross, Individual Time Trials, Fixie, BMX, Mountainbiking, Track and ... Waterbiking? Or what would you call this?

Ride safe ... if you do venture out today! I know I'll stay in.

Send 'er down Hughie

2011-01-02T14:56:00.004+10:00

Someone must've said it one too many times because Hughie's sending 'er down alright. How often have I woken up to the concert of dripping drops on the roof this summer? How many ways are there to describe the same thing over and over again? Drizzle, downpour, squall ... I mean, come on, this is starting to become a real literary challenge, not just a mental one.

It stopped drizzling mid-morning and heavy showers started instead. With my planned New Year's Ride completely washed out, I made the most of the first day of the year and sorted through six years of accumulated cycling magazines.

I forgot to take a "before" photo but these are the "work in progress" and "after" shots

The second day of the year didn't start much better. I had planned to join Alberto's team mates again for a 120km ride. Again? The last ride of the year on New Year's Eve (a sunny morning for a change) had been a leisurely Riverloop. It's nice of them to have me along even without Alberto.

120 km (and with the ride home from the coffee shop 130 km) - was this the cycling equivalent of "the eyes being bigger than the stomach" - pedalling gluttony? I wanted to ride, lots. But the last time I rode a century was last year, and I'm not talking two days ago here. I feared that in my current state of unfitness I had "taken a bigger bite than I could chew". Maybe a more sensible approach would have been wiser, working my k's slowly back up into triple digits. Sure I can finish a huge plate of pasta but was it good for my body? And then there was this all too familiar drum on the roof when I woke up in the middle of the night and it was still there when the alarm went off in the morning. Hughie had decided for me.

An hour later the skies cleared. After coffee and breakfast the roads had dried up. I took my sensible approach with me to Mt Coot-tha for two reasonable loops and two hours later I rolled back home, happy and to my surprise still dry.

Got Fat? Go vegan! Life coaching where you would expect great names of cycling

New Year - new glass in bike lanes!