Author: kennettron

Here are some photos from the cat 1/2 race that are on http://www.oregoncyclingaction.com/ over on the right hand side of the page in a slideshow.  There are more pictures from the other categories as well.

Seth (HP Chiro) on the front.

Wes from Paul’s.

Banana time.

Jacob in a break.

Los Tres Amigos.  Me and Chris–in the blue Z Team kit hidden to the right.  And Quinn, peaking out there in the blue/yellow Flanders colors to the far left.

What I lack in sprinting I make up for in grunting and grimacing.

Damn it.

Paul B. of Hutches takes 4th after Austin and Wes S. of Hammer/CMG.

First of all, I have to apologize to Nick S. for letting him down in Vegas today. Sorry buddy, but they paid me off.
Second of all, I have to thank my teammate Chris Swan for an amazing lead out and support today in an effort to help get me some upgrade points.
Third of all, I have to thank the weather gods for the great weather.
Fourth of all, I have to thank the guy with the chain saw at the finish line for briefly stopping so we didn’t have to shout to hear each other while talking after the race.
Fifth of all, I have to thank that bee that stung the guy with the chain saw.

On to the race news.

I woke up this morning with a sore throat and a cough. I laid in bed listening to the rain coming down on the roof and sideways onto the window. Crap. This isn’t how I want to start the race season. So I went back to sleep to give it another try. And when I woke up the second time an hour and a half later, my sore throat and cough were diminishing and the rain water on the street was evaporating up into a clearing sky. That’s more like it.

My dad and I drove down to Corvallis, I got on the bike, I warmed up, I took a poop, I ate a cliff bar, I said hi to some people, and we began racing. The majority of the first lap was easy (for me). That’s because I had Chris’ wheel to follow, guaranteeing me a spot up front with little time spent in the wind. Then he got a flat and I was pretty much on my own. A break was up the flat and windy road (that’s windy like the wind blowing not the curve–they’re both spelled the same), so I chased er’ down part way and stopped when I saw the pack closing in on me. Most of the break was caught so I sat up near the front for a few more miles. A few more miles later, the break had gathered numbers and distance again and was lookin too strong, so after a couple guys took some hard pulls on the front, I sprung out and jumped the gap. I hate it when people do that to me (sitting on my wheel while I pull like a dog, then sprint by to get in the break while I go backwards). But the pack soon closed in after I got there and we all came together for the finale of the first lap. We went up the little hills at the finish line, then down the backside and began chasing down more stupid breaks that kept going off. And then, out of the gloriously gleaming clouds, a fierce golden light shone through as a thousand trumpets blew, beautiful women fainted, and the heavens opened their pearly gates as Chris emerged, faster and more powerful than before…Chris the White.

He had mackerelously (an amazing kind of fish) changed wheels and rode back onto the pack after flatting. Now there’s some strength.

But the task of chasing down breaks was too great for Chris to do alone, so I did my fair share this time around. At one point in the race, I brought back a devious-looking band of trouble makers in a pull that put my one minute power of the day at 666 watts. There you have it, Chris of the heavens and Kennett of hell. But our lordly powers combined couldn’t win the day.

The bunch was all together by the beginning of the climbs (roughly 2K to go). I rounded the corner going into the first hill sitting in 12th place or so, got boxed in a bit but moved over to the right as Chris and some others passed. I got in right behind Chris. We continued up the short climb at what felt like a deathly slow pace. Jacob Rathe and Greg Crawford Joel Wilson (I think it was Joel) went up the road at this point, but Chris and I were too boxed in to move.

I couldn’t take it anymore, so I whispered into Chris’ ear, GO GO GO IM RIGHT HERE!! And we cut off to the far right edge of cement and passed the lolly gaggers in front of us as we crested the hill. I don’t know if anyone was sitting on us at that point because I didn’t look back, but I told Chris I was feeling good. “Chris, I’m feeling good,” I said. He looked like he was hurting as he continued to pull on the downhill false flat that lead to the base of the last little uphill sprint. “I’m feelin reeeeal good,” I told him as he chased the last two still up ahead. He took me around the final turn and BAM, I was off. I think I stepped on the gas a little too quickly. I made up ground on Jacob, who by this point had dropped Greg a while back, and I pulled right up beside him for the final few meters. But I simply had nothing left at that point, and he held me off to the line by a few feet to take the win. But I’m not too upset. I’m happy the first race is done and over with, like all of you probably are, and I’m also glad to have such an awesome teammate and team this year. Thanks again Chris, we’re gonna tear it up this year!!

If any of you who don’t have a blog (Mike and Will) would like to post your race report in a comment so we can hear about it, do it. I heard that Mike was an absolute monster today in the 3’s. And I heard that Will is an idiot and crashed a few days ago and now has a giant welt on his cheek.

This has been my greatest victory to date. And may be the greatest victory I’ll ever have. And all before the race season even began! Last night I started getting a sore throat. I had nightmares all night about getting sick. When I woke up this morning, my throat was even worse. So I didn’t ride at all today. I napped, rested, called in sick for work, and rested some more. The sore throat went away by noon, but usually it will come back by the evening if I’m getting sick. My throat still isn’t sore. It’s a miracle. I fought off a cold before I even got sick. Amazing. Simply amazing. I feel like I should end my season with a victory. Maybe this is the one.  WRONG.

Tour of California. Looks like it’s going to be amazing. I’ve been checking Velonews at least three or four times a day to read new articles about “the greatest cycling field ever assembled on American soil.” I’m super jealous of everyone who’s getting to race in it.

With any luck, the sore throat is gone for good and I’ll see you guys at Cherry Pie on Sunday.

I’ve been waiting and busing tables at a retirement home in Sherwood this past week (my new job). I start at 3pm and end at 9pm. I begin preparing the kitchen and dining room for dinner at 5 and finish up with the dishes and re-setting the tables for the next morning’s breakfast. This week I’ve gotten to work with another person, which makes the job go much quicker; working alone requires at least another hour to finish the job. I glance at the clock every once and a while, anticipating the end of the night as my legs grow more and more tired from standing up for so long. I wait for the residents to finish eating so I can begin cleaning up. But before that, they wait for us to get them their food. They sit in partial silence as, one by one, they’re served their dinners. The kitchen and our whole process of serving food is extremely slow and inefficient. Instead of filling up all the plates ahead of time so that the residents can get there food at the same time without waiting an hour at their tables, the cook prepares one plate at a time. This means the residents spend the majority of their time waiting for their food to show up in front of them. When they’re done eating, they say goodnight (and laugh a questionable goodbye) to each other and head to their rooms in anticipation of breakfast the next morning.

Today I suffered up the backside of Parrett Mountain during threshold intervals. And finished the workout with endurance/tempo for a solid five hour jaunt.

Later today, as I sat in the YMCA spin class, I noticed the back of one of the other guy’s shirt. It read “The Eternal Life: God’s gift to mankind for the suffering of Jesus Christ.”

Sometimes I realize that I (and almost everyone else) spends too much time looking forward to the next thing on their to-do list, while they spend too little time appreciating what they’re doing at the moment. It’s difficult not to be in a rush. I’m in a rush to get on a pro team and race in Europe. Other people are in a rush to get to work, get a raise, go on a vacation, have kids, get the kids off to college, retire, whatever. It’s all the same thing. Few people realize that, ultimately, the only thing to really look forward to is death. Everything else is just a step or two in between.

So while the guy at the YMCA is anticipating the after life, and the senior citizens are anticipating dinner, I’ve decided not to anticipate anything. During my intervals on the hill today, I didn’t look forward to the end of each 7.5 minute torture-fest. I soaked it in, realizing that nothing else other than what I was doing right then mattered and that I should appreciate doing them, because one day I’ll be old. And later I’ll be dead. Haha. It sounds good in theory. But I guess some things are a bit too intense to really appreciate at the time of occurrence. If I remember correctly, by the last few minutes of each interval I was not “soaking up the glory of the moment.” I was wheezing for it to end. Ironically, the sport I chose requires yearning for the finish line.

I’ve completed three weeks in a row of good training and am smack dab in the middle of an easier week.  Although today (Wednesday) wasn’t easy.  The goal was to do 8 sets of 7.5 minute intervals at high threshold pace.  I did one good one and three crappy ones before I turned in, deciding to err on the side of rest–my new mantra.  Sort of.  Ok, not really.  But I am thinking about having it become my new mantra.

After some down time, this evening I did a spin class at the YMCA with my dad, which we usually do on Monday and Wednesdays.  I think it’s great recovery to just sit there in a warm room and spin real easy, although I have a hard time going slow because of the loud music and labored breathing of everyone else in the room–which my dad makes 75% of out of the full class.  While the spin instructor has the rest of the class doing interval type things and “hand dancing” stuff, my dad just sits there with his head down and his eyes closed, sweat dripping into a large pool at the base of the bike as he suffers for the entire hour as hard as he can go.  Then he goes and swims for 75 minutes with the master’s swim team.  I’ll blame him for my over-eagerness to overtrain.

But I’ve got some new people from Upper Echelon Fitness to make sure that I don’t do that.  I’m being coached by Jeannette Rose and I’m also getting help from Russell Cree.  Last week began my first week of coaching, which I like.  Bring on the intervals is all I’m asking for.  

Racing is finally getting here.  Although now that I think about it, the last five months without racing have gone by pretty fast.  Training has been great, but I’m ready to unleash the herd of horses aching to escape from my legs.  I’m a bit nervous about Cherry Pie, but when I realize how many races there are this year, it seems stupid to put much (if any) pressure on the first few.  So I won’t.  But I will make some people suffer, no matter what.

The plan is to be a cat 1 by Tour of the Gila, which shouldn’t be a problem considering the race doesn’t start until the beginning of May.  Today I’ve been scheming ways that Chris Swan and I can find a good place to train high up (Gila will be held at 5,000 to 8,000 feet elevation).  And I’ve come up with the perfect solution: the very top of Mt. Lemmon in Tucson, AZ.  My first thought was to go to Silver City, which has been recommended by a number of racers.  We may still do that, but my new plan is far superior and less expensive.  If we got to Silver City, we’ll most likely be renting a place in town, which is at 5,000 feet.  The mountains we’ll be training on will be even higher.  But if we got to Tucson, we’ll be able to sleep high (8,000 feet) and train low (2,000 feet).  Brilliant.  That way we can reap the benefits of altitude-created hemoglobin without our power decreasing from training without enough oxygen.*  My idea is to either camp or use a friend’s cabin, or a combination of the two, whatever is super cheap.  Camping would be tougher though.  The plus side of camping is that I’ll most likely bring down a hammock to tie up in some trees, which I’m already looking forward to.  Can you imagine it???  After a long hard day of riding in the warm sun, we get back up to our forest base camp, cook some pasta, and swing to and fro in our hammocks.  That would be cool training.  I’ve got it all planned out.  Now I just have to tell Chris about it.  Quinn, you’re also still invited.

As an added bonus, here is a list of my favorite races excluding GC stage races:

#1 Paris-Roubaix 
#2 World Championships (road race or TT)
#3 Flanders
#4 Liege-Bastogne-Liege
#5 Giro di Lombardia
#6 Milan-Sanremo
#7 Gent-Wevelgem
#8 Amstel Gold
#9 Stage of the Tour
#10 Stage of the Giro

Winning one would be a dream come true.

* For those not in the altitude loop, training at altitude increases the number of red blood cells in your body, which carry oxygen to your muscles.  This is essential because there is less oxygen per volume of air the higher the altitude.  BUT.  If you train at altitude, you lose power because your muscles become accustomed to pushing smaller watts (meaning less pressure on the pedals and going slower) due to the decreased oxygen in the air.  This occurs even though your body is adapting to the altitude.  To get the most bang for your buck, current research has shown that sleeping and living high up while training at low altitude has the best effects for racing at altitude, and possibly at sea level too.  But it takes time for any of these physiological changes to occur, which is why we’ll have to be either sleeping or training at altitude for three weeks before the race.  I’m guessing that about 87 people are going to correct me on this.  Go ahead.  Let’s hear what you guys have to say on the matter.

**I usually never go back and edit posts but this one is actually quite embarrassing to me now. What a clueless cycling fan boy that I was back then. Over half of these bastards are/where doped to the gills and the fact that I once idolized those cheats pisses me off. The moral of the story, for me anyways, is to never look up to someone unless you know them personally. Also, damn was I horrible with margins back then or what?**

Here is a list of my favorite pro riders, not in any particular order and not with any particular set of criteria. These guys are just way bad-ass in some way or another.

Jeff Louder of BMC–I like his name. Plus I just like BMC in general because they’re a continental US team competing with the big Euro boys.

Martijn Maaskant of Slipstream–4th place in the Roubaix during his first year as a pro. Plus I hear that his girlfriend is hot, according to Qwin.

Fabian Cancellara of Saxo Bank–He’s the rider I most aspire to be because of his horse-like riding power.

Steven Cozza of Slipstream–It’s all about the mustache, baby.

Doug Ollerenshaw (formerly Rock Racing)–A fellow Oregonian.

Awesome facial expression, by the way.

Doug gets two pics.

Svein Tuft of Slipstream–2nd place world TT championships. Plus he briefly drafted off me in the Shootout.

Ryder Hesjedal of Slipstream–Cool name, lives in Hawaii, hangs out with Laird Hamilton.

Benjamín Noval of Astana–He’s never won a pro race, but he sits on the front of the pack all day and pulls like a possessed animal. Hence the nickname “El Toro.”

“Big” Jens Voigt 0f Saxo Bank (thanks Mike, I forgot about him)–The nickname says it all for this beast of a homo sapien.  He’s large and in charge.  Of breakaways, that is.

Seabiscuit.

And here’s a link to a site about famous race horses.

I’ve copied Lary’s Gear Report idea.  But I have his permission. He’s got six or seven gear reports that are worth checking out.

Gear #1: Shimano Winter Boots SH-RW80.

Pros:
1. Warm
2. Cool Looking
3. Water resistant
4. Pretty light despite their appearance.
5. Very high quality

Cons:
1. They’re pretty expensive. $300.

My vote: BUY. They’re the single most important piece of equipment other than the bike. My feet are actually comfortable for the first winter ever. I’m even going to race in them when it’s cold and wet out. They’re awesome.

Gear #2 Cycling hat with sewn on sock ear flaps.

Pros:
1. It’s a hat with pieces of wool sock sewn on for extra ear coverage.
2. Stylish
3. Keeps your ears warm
4. Cheaper than buying a decent hat that covers your ears.

Cons:
1. none.

My vote: BUY/construct.

Gear #3: Diabetic Compression Tights from any pharmacy store

Pros:
1. Stylish.
2. Keeps the blood out of your legs after workouts and long car/plane trips–speeding recovery.

Cons:
1. Expensive. They usually cost around $30.
2. They rip easily and get worn out after a month or two of use.
3. They’re white, which means you have to wash them or else be ridiculed for being a dirty slob.

My Vote: BUY. They may not be “Proven” to work, but they give you peace of mind.

Gear #4: Bento Box

Pros:
1. Holds over four cliff bars.
2. Keeps more room in you back pockets for other food.
3. Easy to get to while riding.
4. Stylish

Cons:
1. Pricey at $15. unless you find one for free from someone who doesn’t want theirs, which should be easy because they look really stupid.

My Vote: BUY/find a free one. I keep permanent cliff bars in it just in case I need more food on some long ride I didn’t plan accordingly for.

Thomas was barking outside at something for five minutes straight this morning, so I went out there to tell him to be quiet. As I rounded the corner of the house, I saw him at the base of a tree, looking up into the leafless branches. The squirrel that he had been barking at made an escape attempt and jumped from 20 feet up down onto the gravel driveway and made a quick get away. But not quick enough.

Thomas got to the squirrel before it had time to get more than a few meters, then grabbed it, shook it violently as it let out a few squeaks of terror and pain, and took off with it around the house.  I ran inside to get my camera.  Thomas sprinted around the house for about 10 minutes, not letting me get near him–afraid that I would steal his prize.

He eventually ran inside with it through his dog door and found an adequate spot to leave it.

On the sheep-skin rug in the living room.

I made him pose with it.

Thomas didn’t want to eat it, and I didn’t want it to go to waste so I chopped it up with some sweet potatoes and made a nice lunch.

I don’t like religion but I like religious people.  They always seem to pick me up when I hitch hike.  Monday morning: I bought a new rear tire (Continental prix 4 season) because of my SECOND faulty Schwalbe, which I returned to the shop again.  I also bought a frame pump because I’m sick and tired of running out of c02’s and also having to spend money on them every time I get a flat.  So I set out to Sherwood with a new tire and a new pump.  I got a flat 60 miles later.  Continental Prix 4 seasons=wimpy light weight piece of crap.  I ran over a large chunk of gravel on hwy 99 going from Eugene to Sherwood, and the brand new tire blew out.  Even the Schwalbe would have survived that minor blemish in the road.  I’ve had 10 flats in the last 11 days.  I was not happy.  

Earlier:
Saturday was a hard day, riding down from Sherwood to Eugene, where I spent Saturday and Sunday night on Will and Larry’s floor.  Sunday’s ride was short, but I did a few long sprints and my legs felt more sore and tired than I had wanted them to be considering I had 115 miles the next day–the ride home to sherwood.

Monday Morning again:
I left the shop after buying my new tire and pump, made it to Corvallis and had to stop at Burger King for two hamburgers because my energy was so low. Then I continued on.  “Only 75 more miles,” I thought.  A little later, “Only 70 miles to go.”  A little later, “Only 69 miles to go.”  It went on like this until I heard a whoosh of air escape my rear tire and the rim met the pavement for the 147th time this week.  

I got off the bike, took the tire off, replaced the tube, started pumping, realized I had bought a shrader pump instead of a presta valve pump, chucked my old tube into a farmer’s field, spouted out a couple sentences of foul language to the bike gods, and angrily ate the pancakes from my back pocket as I contemplated throwing my bike in the drainage ditch on the side of the road.  I did not throw my bike of course, because this wasn’t the Giro.  Instead, I stuck my thumb out and got a ride from a very nice religious guy.  He drove me the 50 miles home, right to my doorstep, while we talked about faith and hope.  He (Rob) was a pastor, and was working to raise money for a mission in South America, where he and some other people were going to go save some heathens, no doubt.  I’ve never liked the idea of “saving” people by converting them.  What are they being saved from?  Hell?  because they don’t believe in a Christian god?  Because I sure don’t.  And I don’t want to be saved.  But, I was today.  Just like the poor guys down in South America that Rob and his fellow Christians are going to go help out.  The tribe he’s going to go help probably figure, “Hey, free food and medical supplies, sure I’ll listen to the nonsense this guy is spouting about.  I’ll even pretend to pray if it’ll get me a Snickers bar or two.”

I’ve come to realize that it doesn’t matter why someone does something nice for you (religious reasons, guilt, or compassion) it only matters that they’re doing it. Thank you, Rob.

Yesterday I went up to Portland to meet Jeannette Rose and Russell Cree at Upper Echelon Fitness for a little LT testing and discussion about the racing year ahead.  But first, I carpooled into Portland with my dad to attend one of his classes at Portland State University.  The class was general oceanography, and he spent more time making jokes than he did anything else!  It was actually a very entertaining lecture–better than most of my lecture classes at the UO.  Topics of interest were: making fun of the midwest because it’s smack dab in the middle of a continental plate, therefore making it boring, explaining how plate tectonics are responsible for the variation between different cultures (and more importantly the amazing variety of lunch food street vendors down the block, which include thai, indian, mexican, italian, and greek), and cool names for metal hair bands (The Lava Sharks).

After the lecture, we got milk shakes, then I went over to Echelon Fitness (which is very hard to find), and took the tour of the place.  It is very cool, and shares a workout facility with Therapeutics Associates.

The LT test went well, although I wasn’t expecting to have to crank up to 525 watts.  Russ started me out at 150 or so, and gradually increased until my legs were almost done at 525.  Then he took me down again to 150, and increased the wattage again slowly, going up to 450 briefly before stopping.  

My lactic acid clearing rate was very good, and my power at LT was good too.  Russ and Jeannette were impressed, but worried that I was in too good of shape this early in the season.  I assured them that 95% of what I’ve done has just been endurance and tempo miles.  Although it may seem like I’ve been doing a lot of intervals since I write about it a lot on this here blog, that’s just because I write about intervals almost every time I’ve done them because I get excited about them.  I feel like I have successfully built a very good base platform to build on this year.  My endurance is great right now, and I feel super fresh and excited to ride every day.

Well, I’m off to Eugene now to go mooch off of Will, Larry, Tony, Chad, and Mike.  And whoever else stands in the way of Hurricane Peterson, the eating machine.