Author: kennettron

Well that didn’t go as planed. I wasn’t sure I was going to do this race, considering I am still getting over my cold. But after feeling decent on the Eugene Thursday nighter, I decided to race yesterday, even risking a relapse if in deed I was still sick. Luckily, I still feel fine today, Monday, so a relapse is not in order.

The course was rolling hills with a headwind one direction and a tailwind the other. Plus it was warm out, which I knew would soften people’s legs even more considering we’re still used to rainy 50’s and 60’s weather. I figured the first strong move of the day would stick, and I made sure I was in it.

Heading up the main hill about five minutes into the race, a group formed ahead of the field as riders bridged up to it. I followed, feeling comfortable, and pretty soon we had a nice gap. I think there were seven or eight of us, including two Land Rover guys, and an HP Chiro guy–the only two strong teams present in the 80+ field. Perfect.

We all began pulling through but a couple guys weren’t pulling through quick enough and the fluidity began to fade as one or two guys fell off the back as the road got steep again. We ended up getting caught pretty quickly, and then the real move went. I wasn’t spent when we were eaten by the peleton, but I didn’t have enough energy to follow the next move. Three Land Rover’s guys and Chris Sheppard broke away near the top of the climb and we never saw them again.

After turning away from the wind at the top of the first climb, the pace continued to stay somewhat high as HP Chiro and others helped with the chase. The break had about 30 to 40 seconds for half a lap, but eventually began making more time as we slowed down. I think there was a little over a minute when the first lap ended. Three more laps to go.

Lap two I hammered it. I didn’t want to race for 5th place, and it seemed like the only option was to bring the break back. I should have tried to get a couple guys to bridge with me, but everyone just seemed content to sit in and race for 5th. So I ended up on the front for the majority of laps 2, 3, and 4. I got off the front a bunch of times, but most if it was by accident. And I didn’t have the power to stay off alone for long because I’d been on the front for so long. And after the gap got up to 3 minutes, I knew I was just racing for a workout.

I was getting pretty tired by lap 4, and with half a lap to go, what was left of the peleton split. A group of seven guys ended up getting away from me and the rest of the pack. I pulled as hard as I could and got within about 8 seconds of them, but couldn’t quite get there. No one wanted to help. Not from laziness, just from being in the red themselves too.

I swerved off the side of the road by accident and went into a field at one point but stayed upright and got back on to the back pretty quickly. I thought about calling it a day and sitting on for the last 8 miles, but I couldn’t so I took some more time on the front.

With a couple miles to go, I sat in, deciding I could at least sprint for 12th or whatever place it was. But I wasn’t going to chase anything down or do any more work. My legs had had it. Galen Mitterman took a flyer with 2 miles to go and stayed away, so now we were racing for 13th. The finish line was at the top of a steep but short climb, something I would normally do well on. But I knew that my legs were dead and instead of waiting for the move to happen, I just went at the base of the thing and died part way up taking 16th. Not the best placing, but damn was it a good workout. I think I’ll be feeling even better next weekend once my cold is completely gone.

Hey, if anybody needs a ride up to Silverton tomorrow, I have plenty of room in my car that I own. So give me a call if you need a ride because the tank is full and the bike racks are plentiful–oh, sorry I made a mistake!! I get confused sometimes. Silly me. What I meant to say was that I don’t have a car and that I need a ride to the race tomorrow. Thanks,

-Kennett Paul
971-235-5488

ps Zack, just because I always beg for rides to races doesn’t mean I like cars. In our society, unfortunately, they’ve just become necessary for certain activities. And no. I’m not going to stop doing everything that requires a car just to prove that I’m not a hypocrite. That would mean the man won. I won’t have it. I much prefer to complain about things even though I’m dependent on them. And give other people a hard time for owning certain things that I complain about/use time to time to get to races. Because if everyone didn’t drive cars, smoke cigaretes, drive drunk, shop at Walmart, import cheap bananas from the third world, then there would be nothing valid for us to complain about. We’d have to resort to complaining about things that are good. Can you imagine it?

“Man, I really hate living in a clean environment with good schools and drinking water that doesn’t come from a sewage treatment plan. This really sucks.”

“Doesn’t it just piss you off that there aren’t starving people in Africa? And NO AIDS? WTF?! Who are we supposed to feel sorry for, but deep down not really give a shit about?”

“You know what I don’t understand? Is why we send convicted felons into pristine, safe prisons and give them all the support, rehabilitation, and education they need to succeed in life. Can’t we go back to the good ‘ol days
of shower rapping’s and brutal, power-hungry prison guard beat-downs? Those maniacs should have to suffer for the crimes they committed. They shouldn’t be rewarded with college degrees!”

“Can you believe the government wasted more of our hard-earned tax dollars to invent a machine that controls the weather to give us 75 degree sunny days 365 days a year and yet somehow doesn’t hurt any ecosystems? I LIKE it when it’s 38 degrees and raining all fall, winter, and spring long!”

With everything so perfect, people wouldn’t even know how to vent their anger properly:

“If I see one more god damn gravel-free bike lane I’m gonna go plant a tree!!! AGHHHHH!!!”

The world simply could not function like this, Zack. People would eventually go insane and gnaw their fingers off, then no one would be able to blog and the solar system would collapse on itself.

PPS I washed my cycling clothes so I won’t stink up the car.

The new frame has cometh.

After many miles of pacing back and forth in anguished anticipation.  After countless hours spent lying awake at night in sheer excitement.  After spilling the blood of hundreds of sacrificial squirrels to pay homage to the bike gods to ensure that it would arrive safely.  After three days of building it at life cycle bike shop…it’s finished.  The new and improved Kona KING ZING.  Let me say that one more time: KING zing.  No more little Zing Supreme.  This bike has no Taco Bell burrito connotations.  This bike is lean, mean and ready to sting with its zing.  

Yes it may have components from my first bike, the Trek 2200 that I got in 2006.  And yes it may be the same frame that I had before except with a different name and in a different color, and yes it still creaks and groans like an old sailor’s elbow, but this speedy 19.5 pounder is ready to CRUSH, GRIND, and SMASH anything that gets in its path.  The creaking is actually its way of speaking to me.  It squeaks out, “Keeeeennett.  Cruuuuush.  Griiiiiind.  Smaaaaaash,” as I pedal.  Well King Zing, your wish is my command.  

Oh, Kona Zing
You’re so god damn bling
Your shiny black clear coat
Makes me billow like a billy goat
Your curves and your lines
Give me reason to sing rhymes
Your bottom bracket may still creak
But I’d ride that any day of the week
Riding you all day and night
Would give me great delight
Sweating with you for hours on roads that’ev been tarred
Makes my legs all veiny and hard
So until tomorrow I’ll be thinking of thee
Of you, groaning beneath me.

Don’t believe everything you read on my blog for the next couple weeks because there are people I’m living with that aren’t nice and keep stealing my computer.

Coughing less, clearer snot, less junk in my chest.  It’s time to start riding again!!!  Really easy for the first couple days though.

I’m signed up for three stage races in June.  Mt. Hood, Nature Valley, and Elkhorn.  It’s time to get serious.  Now if only my immune system follows.

I have a cold.  It sucks.  I hate it.

From Velonews:

Pacific Power signed as title sponsor of Mt. Hood Cycling Classic

Hood River, Ore., May 5, 2009 – This year’s Mt. Hood Cycling Classic is excited to announce that Pacific Power, one of the West’s leading electric utilities serving approximately 1.7 million customers in six western states, has signed on as the race’s Title Sponsor for 2009. With hard times falling on many American races, Pacific Power’s commitment is a sign of the strength and viability of one the toughest stage races in the U.S. Pacific Power is headquartered in Oregon and is committed to sustainable energy, making it a perfect match for the race and the natural splendor for which it is now so well-known…More 

Chris, Kenji, Joe, Brian, Jim: sign up quick before it fills!

This turned out to be a pretty dang good weekend.  It had its ups and downs, its ying and yangs, its sweet and sour.  And in the end, I think everything turned out pretty even.  It started out Friday afternoon with a train ride from Eugene to Salem to meet Becka Hartkop from Veloforma for the long drive up to Washington on Saturday morning.  So finally finding a ride to the race was a good thing.  But in order to balance that out, my new frame never showed up so I had to use Tony’s bike for racing.  And the shifting is very sketchy, which caused me to derail the chain a few times during the races.  So there’s a little bit of bad to even out the convenient car pool.  

Some more bad found me when I got to the Amtrak train station and found out that the “fancy” train doesn’t take bikes unless they’re in bike boxes, which Amtrak sells for $15.  But there was no time to get the bike in a box because the train was arriving in 10 minutes, plus the allen bolt holding on Tony’s bars and headset is stripped out and cannot be budged.  The bad.  

But then immediately the good: I could take an Amtrak bus instead of the train, and the charge for putting the bike in the cargo area was only $5.  I’m getting tired of writing like this, so you can just take my word that the good and bad evened out throughout the rest of the trip.

Saturday:

Becka, Jen Aekeroyd, and I drove up to the Glenwood road race in a down pour.  I figured the bad weather was over by May and we’d be rewarded with warm sunny  conditions until October, but not so was the case in Warshington.  That cursed state is even worse than Oregon.  I looked up their average precipitation and Seattle gets over 350 inches a year.  That’s quite a bit, and also explains all the water-ways and sounds and junk they have there.  Just look at a map, half their state is covered in water.

The race started out with a big celebration out of the giant metropolis of Glenwood.  We waved to fans and caught flower bouquets and kissed blushing young women on the cheek as we paraded through the crowded streets on our bicycles.  Hundreds of thousands of adoring spectators cheered as multiple squads of marching bands pushed their way through the crowded streets ahead of us.  Under millions of glittering strands of ticker tape, scattered about the sky by trained doves, we waved and smiled, soaking in the love and admiration from a city, and country, that is truly bike crazy.  A rainbow magically appeared directly in front of us on the road, and a heard of wild unicorn came stampeding by to give us a lead out of town, directly under the rainbow where jelly beans and skittles were raining down on us, filling our jersey pockets for the long race ahead.

As we turned out of the middle school parking lot, the rain seemed to intensify and I was glad that I left my rain cape on.  100 miles to go, and every minute of it was raining.  Sometimes just slightly, but most of the time torrential.  It was AWESOME.

A break of three was established within the first couple miles, and I wanted to be up there.  I attacked on one of the many small but steep climbs of the day, and got away by myself.  I steadily increased my lead, but didn’t have the confidence that I could bridge all the way to the break by myself, which was now a couple minutes up the road.  But after 10 minutes of waiting for help to bridge up to me, I decided to just go for it.  

I was one minute from the break and over a minute on the peleton when a flagger didn’t specify which way to go and I missed a turn.  I was very pissed when I looked down the other road and saw a lead car waiting there.  I turned around and got on course again, dropped my chain, and started my pursuit, which had just taken a 45 second blow.  

I gave up a few miles later when I saw the peleton getting close.  Twenty-five minutes of wasted energy, but I felt fine.

I rode the rest of the race aggressively, but smart at the same time.  I followed a ton of attacks, stayed close to the front, and felt strong the entire time.  I thought for sure I was going to win even though there were at least five strong teams and I was team-less.  I kept thinking of how I was going to trounce everyone up the last climb at the finish, a 200 meter 14% bump that I had rolled over in the top three for all previous six times up it.  

Now I’m not sure if this is what happened, but it’s what I heard went down.  The break got pulled back on the last lap, but one guy got off the front after they got reeled in, right before we were neutralized for a good 10 or 15 minutes behind the women’s field, which we weren’t allowed to pass because they were finishing.  So the eventual winner, James Stangeland, stayed away with mere FEET on the last lap to take the victory.  I didn’t know anyone was off the front on the last lap, and I thought that we all finished at the same time, but I guess not.

I was just out of this picture, finishing fifth.  The lead out to the hill was tricky.  I did the best I could to be in the top 10 going into the hill.  The is 200 meters give or take, but on this last time up, our speed was so high (due to the downhill leading into the 200 meter climb and also the speed of the lead out trains) that it was really only a 100 meter climb.  I was a little under geared going into it, but managed to do fairly well given my position going into the sprint and came around three or four people.  I wish it had been more like a 500 meter finish climb instead, but fifth wasn’t too bad.  

I got lost riding back in the pouring rain to the staging area, riding an extra 5 miles than I had to.  In the parking lot, I took off my soaking wet clothes in the rain and put on some dry ones, then we said goodbye to Jen and Becka and I got in the car to go get some food.  Becka ended up not finishing her race because she was feeling sick (yesterday she just found out she had mono).  After raiding the pizza samples at Safeway (we literally raided all of them, grabbing about 3 slizes worth of pizza and running out of the store as quickly as possible), we started the drive to our host house–the parents of a friend of mine.  

The rain continued to pelt down while we drove, and the windows continued to be completley fogged up no matter what we did.  There’s something wrong with her car.  So we sat hunched forward the entire time, squinting through the least foggy patches on the lower portions of the windshield, crossing our fingers that we weren’t driving on the left side of the road.

We took the ferry across the Puget Sound and eventually found our way to Annie’s parent’s house, who live in a secret underground lair beneath the Space Needle.  Her parents, George and Georgiana, had dinner and cookies waiting for us.  And breakfast the next morning too!  And a whole ‘nother bag of cookies!

Sunday:

The sun gods came out today and dished out our vitamin D intake by the dump truck load.  It felt good.

I was a bit worried about the shifting as I got ready for the race.  The front deraileur was being sluggish, and the chain had rusted a little bit overnight from the rain (sorry Tony.  It’s fine now though).  But I didn’t have any time to worry about it after the race started.  Immediately, attacks went off within the first few minutes of the race on a gradual climb.  At first I didn’t think anything of it and stayed where I was, waiting for the rest of the field to bridge up there.  But no one came around me.  At least 15 guys were up the road, so in the end I did it myself and bridged the gap pretty easily.  But then more surges came from behind and the pace got hard at the top of the hill as guys started popping off the back.  Within the first mile of the race, the winning break was established.  We had 9 guys in it, although not all were working and it was apparent that some dead weight needed to be dropped.

On the major climb of the course, which was a circuit by the way, we dropped two guys.  For the rest of that lap, we just killed it.  I had to skip out on pulls at times because I was hurtin’ something fierce, but I eventually got in the groove of things.  Over the next four laps, we worked together smoothly (except for Todd Herriot and Adam Thuss who didn’t pull at all).  Thuss had a teammate in the break with him, who did all the work for him and Herriot was being….lazy??)  Or smart.  I guess I should have just sat in the back of the break all day long too if I had wanted to win, but I thought that the other four guys pulling needed my help so I did my fair share (although I did try to skip as many turns as I felt was safe, in order to conserve some of my energy for the end).  All I wanted was third place (what I thought I needed to win the overall omnium since none of the guys who placed ahead of me yesterday were in the break).  But it turned out that in order for me to win the overall, I would have had to win today also since the winner on Saturday, James Sangeland, placed 10th at this race and got some good points for that.  

With a lap and a half to go, on the steep ass climb, the fresh Red Truck Racing guy (Thuss) attacked and only Herriot and I could hold on.  He attacked again at the top of the hill and we were still there.  The three of us didn’t work together though (I sure didn’t want to take a pull and have them come sprinting around) and the rest of the guys came back to us.  Attacks like this went on for a few more minutes until things settled down.  One guy was dropped, so our break was down to six.  We called a temporary truce until the steep climb again on the next lap (the truce didn’t last that long though).  

With two laps to go, we had had almost four minutes on the field.  But now, with one lap to go, we had like 2.5 minutes on the field and a chase group of two guys was only 1.5 minutes behind.  For the non bike people: when a breakaway works together, meaning all or some of the riders are taking turns breaking the wind at the front, the break has a good chance of making time on the peleton (depending on a lot of variables of course).  But when the break starts attacking itself, the overall pace dies down and the peleton will start to eat back time on the break.  Luckily, there were two Red Truck guys in the break today and the one who had been working for his teammate (Thuss) kept the pace going in between the attacks.  But it wasn’t fast enough, because one of the guys in the chase group caught us with half a lap to go (he ended up beating me by about 6 inches).  

The last attack happened roughly three miles from the finish on the last steep climb.  Herriot and Thuss accelarated so quickly that none of us even tried to go with them.  

We came into the finish stretch 20 seconds or so behind them.  I was sitting second wheel behind Phill, who was giving me a lead out.  I waited too long to start my sprint though, and two guys got the jump on me and came around as I continued to sit on.  I jumped as I saw them start their moves, but it was too late.  They didn’t make any more progress on me than what they already had when I started my sprint, and the three of us pretty much held our positions to the end.  Dumb mistake on my part.  Should have started sprinting at 200 meters, not 150.  Fifth place again, out of the 7 man break.  And fifth place in the omnium GC.  Not what I wanted, but not bad considering it was probably one of the most competitive fields I’ve raced against this year.  Oh, and by the way the winner of the omnium gets a spot on the Nature Valley Pro ride team to race in the Nature Valley Grand Prix.  I didn’t win, but the good news:  I got a call yesterday saying I was second on the list of qualifiers.  First place might or might not go, second place guy isn’t eligible because he’s from Canada, third place guy is a former pro and is ineligible because of that, and the fourth place guy can’t make it.  So there’s a chance!!!!  

(I at least have the best placed and most readable number: 2085.  And by the way, in case you didn’t know, the two guys in front are spliced together with the other three of us.  They were actually much farther up the road  than it looks like.)

After leaving the course, Becka was speeding (as usual) and we passed a cop car going the other direction.  In the rear mirror, we saw its turn signal start blinking as it planned on turning around.  Becka freaked out.  “I can’t get another ticket!!  They’ll tow the car!”  She pulled off as fast as she could onto a dirt road and drove out of sight into some junkyard/redneck property with a bunch of broken car parts.  I suggested I get in the driver seat, so we switched places and waited to see if the cop car had seen us.  SUCCESS!! We were free!

We drove home to Salem discussing many important issues, such as one of my favorite hypotheticals:

Imagine you were enjoying the BEST barbecued meat sandwich you’d ever eaten.  The meat is super tender and delicious, the sauce is sweet and tangy, the bread is fresh and just perfect.  Hands down, the best sandwich you’ve ever eaten, plus you’re really hungry.  SUPER hungry even.  You get to the last bite of the sandwich (with tears welling up in your eyes because of the absolute amazing deliciousness), put it in your mouth and start chewing and right before you’re about to swallow that last little piece, someone tells you that the meat is made out of human flesh.  Somehow you know they’re telling the truth.  Do you spit the last mouth-full out, make yourself vomit, or do you just swallow it–considering the fact that you’ve already eaten just about the whole sandwich?  I for one would just swallow the last bite.  And only one other person has agreed with me on that (my brother who is equally demented and weird as me).  But Becka completely caught me off guard when she too admitted that she would just swallow it.  Amazing!!!! I’ve asked probably 50 people this question, maybe 500, and every one of them said they’d probably throw up or at least spit the last bite out.  

I asked her the only logical follow up question that I also ask everyone else:   what if it was infant flesh?  Laughing, she said, “there wouldn’t be a difference!”  And I just found my new best friend.

If anyone has room for me in their car for these races on saturday and sunday, I’m in need of a ride.  I can meet you in Portland/Salem/Eugene, and I may have a place for us to stay in Seattle.  I’m working on that part.  Thanks, and give me a call if you want the company:

971-235-5488

I was looking through my training journal last night and I was shocked to see what I was doing back in October 2006. Here’s an example. Very crazy and stupid:

Monday:

3 hrs intervals:
6X5 (6 sets of 5 sprints like before) straightaways plus about 60m extra (past the small tree and to the second lamp post on the other side (about 400 meters).  The last 15 were in the oposite direction (into the wind when I realized that I had been going with the wind before.  Great weather, getting darker, but still warm out.
Almost forgot to mention that I broke a spoke completley out of my rear wheel on the ride over to the crit course.  I pulled it out after it broke.  My wheel is so bent now that it rubs against the frame of the bike and violently shakes and wobbles as I ride.  It almost didn’t feel safe today.

Total Week: 20 hours

And even worse (if it’s possible) here’s what I was doing a few months later in December in Arizona:

(And this is after a week of 27 hrs, a week of 28 hrs, and a week of 32 hrs).

Monday:

6 hour ride.
Road to mt. lemmon, took a roundabout way while Aaron ran some errands. Then we went up to 5 miles. We were both feeling slow and tired before the hill, but after climbing for about 2 miles, I was feeling better. So he turned around at 5 miles and I went up to the top. Tons of people up there today.

Tuesday:

1.5 hr ride.

Wednesday:

4 hr group ride out broadway to colosal cave area, pretty hard, then up the hill to the right/west. I was fine going up the hill, but going down I let a gap form and got dropped. Tim (from the first wedensday ride) also dropped out (on purpose) and he and I finished the ride off together, making a big loop and riding up through south Tucson. Hard ride, my legs were tired.

in the afternoon: 2 more hours.

Thursday:

6 hours.
Took Park south, like the way the shootout ends and the way that I cam back yesterday. Took a left/east out towards the same area yesterday, but ended up taking a big extra loop around the patagonia area and old coronata hwy. Then I got back on track and ended up near colosal cave, which I did that little loop twice then headed back home on old spanish and broadway. I was tired today, nuf said.

Friday:

3 hours.
Unlike yesterday, which was sunnay and in the 70’s, today was windy, cold, and the last 15′ or so were in the rain. I went all the way until broadway dead-ended to the east, then crossed over to speedway until it dead ended. Then out to the base of mt. lemmon. then headed back. Where I gave a half ass atempt to catch a rider with a support car behind him. Never caught up, but I did gain ground. Then when I got to tanque verde, the car and rider were gone. I continued home, and a few minutes later a rider from discovery passed me, then took a right turn shortly after, followed by the support c ar. I couldn’t beleive my eyes.

Saturday:

3 hours Shootout group ride:
It was hard again, especialy right after the bridge, where I had to bridge a couple gaps due to people dropping out. It was big again, maybe bigger than last time. I went to the front right near the end but didn’t really make an attempt to break, altough I started the hill first with 2 other guys, who I passed, and I thought I was going to finish first (after the breakaway of about 6 guys including phill, another navigator guy, and the healthnet guy) but i got passed right near the top by 4 guys and finished 5th. The pace slackened again for a little while, then we started some very fast pace line stuff. For a while, there was only a few of us pulling the entire group, which had split up a little by then.

In the afternoon 3 more hours:
Went over to A mountain and did 5.5 intervals (not too hard paced) the last 1.5 were with Aeron when he met up with me there. Then we went and did the actual TBC route, which is different than I thought it was. We stopped off to ride up a super steep crappy road which I named steep ass mother fucker. Then we did the rest of the ride, pretty good pace, I was tired.

Sunday:

4.5 hours.
Did the shootout loop with Aaron, went hard at parts, but we were both tired. Head wind on the way back. I took a short loop up broadway when we got back to add on some time. (almost 4.5 hrs) I am sore, tired, and very tired. It was a succesful training month, I don’t want to leave, but I am looking forward to some recovery time. Done.

Total week: 33 hours.

At the time it seemed completely reasonable.  But in hindsight…WOW.  What the hell was I thinking?  Being able to recognize a mistake while it’s occurring is harder than it seems.