Get Coached By Kennett—now taking clients

As a bike racer, are you tired of being pathetically, agonizingly, unnaturally slow? Does it hurt your feelings when you come in dead mid-pack in every race you do? Is your family ashamed of you. Has your girlfriend left you for someone faster? Do people talk in hushed whispers behind your back in small groups wondering why you still do this sport when you obviously have neither potential nor will power? When you look in the mirror at that sad excuse of a human being do you wonder how much longer you can hold out on your imminent suicide? Above all, are you embarrassed by the lack of veins and definition in your weak, fat legs? Do you often refer to those two legs of yours as your “empty vessels of shame” or your “limp sausage casings”? Would you rather have them be known as “MEAT PISTONS” or “MURDER STICKS”? Well then, you’ve come to the right place.

I’m now taking clients for Get Coached by Kennett LLP (It’s not really an LLP). I have only a few spots available and they will be entirely first come first serve, depending on how much I like you. I will be offering myself for cheaper than normal (sort of like Lang’s mom). My services could even be called abnormally cheap! Now is the time to save! Transform yourself this fall and winter from a lame excuse of a bike racer to an extremely overtrained, undernourished, fast-looking cyclist! I kid. I will do nothing of the sort. You’ve all seen how much I eat. I’ll somehow manage to make you overtrained AND overweight.

In all seriousness, I’m taking on a few women and men starting this fall to coach. Young or old. Cat 5, 4, 3, 2, or 1. The one stipulation is that you have a power meter, since I’ll be prescribing and basing your training off of your power files. The other stipulation (I lied there are two stipulations) is that you’re motivated for hard work and a decent amount of it. I don’t think I can properly coach anyone who doesn’t have the time to train at least 10 hours a week. Since I’ve never trained under 10 hours a week I’m not convinced I can provide the best help to anyone who does. I’m not a USA Cycling certified coach, but luckily that certification doesn’t mean shit anyways. As for my credentials, in my seven years of training I’ve found out exactly what doesn’t work. So I’ll be having you do the opposite of that.

Here’s what you get:

-Unlimited phone calls and email
-We’ll discuss and plan for your major goals in the coming year
-Completely personalized weekly plans
-Changes will be made to the weekly training plan accordingly, based on how the week progresses. This is something that most coaching companies don’t offer, especially at this price. I think it’s vital to make changes throughout the week if the plan is too difficult or other things come up.
-I’ll analyze your power files and give feedback throughout the week
-Nutritional guidance
-Price is $180 a month

I’ll be consulting with another racer, Michael Sencenbaugh, who is one of the most knowledgeable people I know when it comes to physiology and the most recent research and training being done over a wide variety of endurance sports. I’ll be using some of his ideas and incorporating them into your training, which I’ve done for myself this past season. I owe some of my success this year to the types of training and intervals he’s talked to me about.

You may respond to a various type of training completely differently than someone else. I’m well aware of this. It’s taken me a long time to find out how to train properly and what I respond well to. It’s important to find out what works best for you so you get the most bang for your buck, whether that’s back-to-back days of VO2 intervals, long tempo sessions, anaerobic work, or the typical 2×20 threshold efforts. With your help and feedback I’ll attempt to find the most effective way for YOU to train.

Give me a call or email if you want someone to push you, a sounding board during the long winter months, and race strategy for the spring and summer.

971-235-5488
kennettpeterson@gmail.com

My newest client:
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Drowning in a pool of phlegm and chunks of my own lungs

As I lay dying on the side of Old Stage Rd., a concerned cyclist stopped to ask if I was alright. Drowning Pool was still blaring in my ears and all I could do was raise my hand up to wave him off. I inhaled, deeply gasping for air. I exhaled, vomiting bile into a steadily growing stream that was flowing towards my knees. I’d been there for a good minute. Would stay there just like that for another minute too. When I finally got up, I ripped my my earbuds out and thanked the cyclist for checking on me. Still panting, face still twisted in agony over the burn in my legs and throat, I told him I was just doing intervals. “Two to go,” I said. “Wow, you’re really giving ‘er!” he replied. “Yep,” and I was on my way back down the hill.

With Bucks County looming on the horizon as my last goal of the season, I’m piling on the intervals. Last week I did four days of them within a five day stretch. 6 to 6.5 hour rides on the weekends. I’ll show up to the start line in Pennsylvania either cracked or ready to crack skulls. Those two weeks off I took after Cascade have really shown me what rest will do to the truly tired. I’m already breaking (interval) power records–for altitude not sea level. Yesterday was an example.

While 8×1 minutes may not seem like that daunting of a task to those who haven’t done the workout, I certainly knew what I was up against. This plan for the Secret Intervals was handed down to me, generation to generation. I heard about it from Que Kaaaaaaaay (AKA Quinn Keogh), who heard about it from a Tour de France legend. I can’t remember the guy’s name though. For years I’ve kept it secret, or maybe it was weeks, but anyways I’ve decided that it’s simply too hard for most people to do anyways so telling the secret won’t matter. Kind of like telling the secret to becoming really, really, really rich: get lucky, work hard, fuck over everyone.

Each interval is done on a steep hill. All out. Every time. With 15-20 minute rests in between. Full recovery. I smashed the first one really hard. Had to get off the bike and lean over the top tube. Got the same exact power number for the second one, meaning I probably didn’t go hard enough on the first. Had to get off and lean over the top tube again for a few minutes after the second one. By the third one I was feeling it a little and went out too easy for the first 20 seconds. I only had to stop and burry my head against my bars after that one and didn’t have to fully dismount the bike like the others. I vowed to go harder for the fourth.

The fourth one was ridiculous. I ended up kneeling on the ground, puking bile and gasping raggedly for breath. This was the first time someone has ever stopped to check on me while I’m doing intervals. I developed a spiking headache after this fourth interval.

Long before, after the 2nd interval, I’d decided I’d only do six intervals today. The Secret Intervals plan calls for between six and eight sets. No more, no less. Six would be plenty today. I did the fifth one and managed not to throw up until the way down. An un-chewed chunk of peanut butter from breakfast now stuck to my leg. I left it there. My body was shaking. I was almost out of liquids and I dared not finish what I had, knowing I’d throw it up again in 20 minutes. 95 degrees out. Head pounding. I drank anyways of course. This was playing. Loud:

I blew to pieces on the last one. I had absolutely nothing to give for the last 20 seconds. The last 20 seconds are the only important seconds though. One must ride those last 20 seconds like they’re the last 20 seconds you’ll ever live. And they might be–a heart attack or swerving into a truck due to loss of vision aren’t out of the question. I was massively over-geared but ground out the last sprint. All over the road, all over the bike. I went six seconds too long because I couldn’t read my Garmin. I wish they’d make a true interval screen where the timer is huge so you can actually see it.

It took almost an hour and a half to do six minutes worth of work. Normalized power for that hour and 26 minutes was 397. ??? Okay, so normalized power isn’t that accurate considering this would be quite impossible for me to do at 6,000 feet.

Down in town, I realized I needed to go to the hospital. I was that out of it and messed up. The next best thing was seeing a doctor. So I went to the gas station and got the biggest one I could find. 44 ounces of Dr…Pepper that is. I took a big chug and refilled to the top. My hands were shaking as I handed over two bucks to the cashier. Went outside and sat in the parking lot on the ground. When I’d had enough of the gas fumes I rode one block to a bench at a coffee shop and sat there drinking my 550 calories of pure sugar for the next 20 minutes.

According to Quinn, the Secret Intervals plan called for getting home as soon as possible and taking a big dose of protein and carbs after the workout. Rest IMMEDIATELY and begin recovering. This is what I’ve always done in the past. Today, though, I had different plans. I still had four hours to ride if I was going to make it a six hour day. Better get going. The mountains were calling.

By the numbers in case you’re interested, which you should be:

Interval #1: 848w
Interval #2: 848w
Interval #3: 795w
Interval #4: 846w
Interval #5: 802w
Interval #6: 731w
(This is accurate)

Normalized power for the total six hours and nine minute ride: 307. TSS: 412.

I just finished my morning mug of espresso, pile of pancakes, bacon, and eggs, and am therefor ready for round two today. No intervals though. That would just be stupid. No, just another six hours in the mountains. Adios.