It is a frequent mistake of many cyclists – overtraining. No where is this more true then the weeks leading up to a big event. I’m right there, right now. In two weeks from today I will have just finished the Seattle to Portland ride. That means this is prime time for me to think about tapering, and how that impacts my training schedule.

This year my training schedule had a bit of tapering forced upon it by a mechanical failure on a training ride. With my primary road bike in the shop a lot of my recent training rides were skipped, or switched completely different style of bike. But for most, the tapering process should be a lot more deliberate and planned. And no…. riding less is not going to undo all the hard work you have put in in the saddle.

Training can be a lot like drinking: to have a great time you need to know when to stop.

    ^{— Carmichael Training Systems (http://trainright.com/tapering-week-race/)}

Experts disagree slightly on the specifics, but all recommend a reduction in training workloads one to two weeks prior to your big events. Precisely how much will depend a lot on you as an individual, and the intensity of your normal training regime. Everyone agrees, however, there are a couple of key points that are critical in the final weeks. Doing these right isn’t going to suddenly add 10% to your power output, but doing them wrong can DEFINITELY have the opposite result.

• Get lots of sleep. One of the main goals of the reduced workload while tapering is to allow your body to properly and fully adapt to the training stresses you’ve inflicted upon yourself. This means rest. And more importantly, good sound sleep.
• Eat well. Weight conscious types may be worried about adding on pounds in the weeks leading up to an event – especially one that is climbing intensive. However, even more important than that glorious power-to-weight ratio is rebuilding adequate glycogen stores in your muscles. This is the fuel your body will need for those big efforts the day of your event, and you’ve been exhausting it in your training. Replenishing those stores will keep you in the mix come event day.

A two-week taper is most appropriate before a century ride. In the first week of your taper, cut your training volume by 40 percent. So, if you rode 200 miles in your final week of hard training, you would ride about 120 miles the next week. Cut back evenly on all your workouts. In other words, still do your high-intensity workouts, but make them 40 percent shorter, and still do a longer ride, but make it 40 percent shorter as well.

    ^{— Active.com (http://www.active.com/cycling/articles/4-tips-for-a-strong-century-ride-finish)}

Most also agree that tapering is a reduction in time in the saddle, but not the intensity of the training rides themselves. If Wednesdays are your normal interval days, then continue to do them. Just do less of them. Charmichael Training Systems recommends a 25-30% reduction in ride volume a week before your event. Still others recommend as much as a 50% reduction across the board in the final week. Trainer Joe Friel recommends a reduction of 40% two weeks out, followed by an additional 40% the final week.

As with anything you’ll need to modify and adapt these methods over time to achieve optimum results for your particular body. But recognizing that tapering is a necessary part of a complete training plan can help eliminate the stress that some feel. That stress is based on an irrational fear that missing workouts is going to erase all the work we have put in. The science actually shows the exact opposite.

It was one of those “Well duh!” sort of moments. The times when you suddenly realize something that, in retrospect, should have been obvious all along. And once I did I knew that riding my mountain bike on the streets was going to make me ride better on every bike.

It all started with a rather unfortunate and poorly timed mechanical failure on my road bike. Just weeks before my planned 200+ mile weekend, I went and broke my left brake assembly. So off to the shop with the road bike, with an estimated 2 week turn-around for warranty approval from and parts shipping from SRAM.

With only 23 days to go until Seattle to Portland, I couldn’t really just stop riding. Plus I was still doing my daily commute. That left me with two other options – my cargo bike and my mountain bike. Looked like me and the Breezer MTB were going to be spending some quality time together.

I’ve experience some frustration riding this bike on the roads. It just seems…. so…. slow….
I don’t hold it against the bike. It has some ridiculously knobby tires and front energy-sapping suspension. It is, after all, a mountain bike. It isn’t really designed for road riding. But man, it always feels like I’m riding through molasses.

Obviously I was aware of the rolling resistance issues. And it weighs more then my road bike. There has also always been a grinding sort of noise at speed that I’ve assumed was my disk brake rubbing in a way I couldn’t seem to prevent. All things in my mind that were simply dragging me down.

In all fairness, the brake was actually not an issue (I later learned.) I’ve yet to identify exactly what that grinding sound is. It only happens when I am pedaling at a steady rate, and the brake would obviously be a more constant sound. So no brake hangup. Scratch that off the list of “why the hell does this feel so slow.”
That of course left the tires. Those damn knobby tires. Awesome in the loose dirt. Terrible on the pavement. I pondered this as I was again out of the saddle attempting to get the bike back up to cruising speed.

Heeeeeeey….. wait just a second.

Why exactly was I up out of the saddle? I was on flat ground, riding in a straight line. I should have been spinning steadily.

That was when it hit me. The issue I was facing with this bike wasn’t really about overcoming the rolling resistance of the tires while I was pedaling. Sure – there was added drag and inefficiencies there. But the real problem had a whole lot more to do with my poor pedaling style.

I tend to coast a lot. It is something I’m working to try and overcome. In most of my efforts on and off the bike I tend to favor my fast twitch muscle. I’m naturally more inclined to sprint – something very much augmented by how much time I spend sprinting from stop light to stop light in traffic. On my road bike, I can pedal pedal pedal, then coast for a couple of seconds with minimal loss in speed. On this bike, as soon as I stop pedaling speed drops quickly. The increased fatigue and effort I was experiencing weren’t so much from what it took to keep the mountain bike at speed, but rather what it took to continually struggle to get the bike back up to speed.

Duh!

Once I realized that, I started to focus on maintaining an easy pedaling rhythm. The ride got a whole lot easier.

Turns out this little mountain bike that I was being critical of on my commutes was actually going to help me overcome my poor pedaling technique. This was something that I’d gotten away with for so long on my road bike that mentally I just no longer thought about it any more. I was conscious of this bad habit and wanted it to change, but just couldn’t seem to focus on correcting it when on my training rides.

Basic fitness and muscular gains aside, this little mountain bike was going to help improve my riding over all on any bike.

I hadn’t really realized how much I had become used to riding on the same ol’ roads and paths around my family’s home in Sacramento.  I had several routes I already knew of, and was familiar enough with them to match them to whatever my particular goal was for the ride.  If I wanted to grind hills, I knew where to go.  Looking for a flat TT type ride?  That would be repeats on Captain’s Table road.  Long endurance ride?  Ride through Old Sacramento to the American River Bike Trail and just keep going.

However, now that I’ve got my self a new hometown (well, part time hometown at least) in San Mateo I’m kinda at a loss for where to ride.

I’d made a couple of cursory forays from my temporary hotel housing to scout around the immediate area, but nothing inspiring had been revealed.  However, walking the streets of San Mateo I can just make out some tantalizing wooded hills to the west.  I know from staring at google maps for way too long that there is an ocean not too far in that direction too.

So this morning I decided to give my self 30 minutes, pick a direction and go.  I had a tentative idea of where I was trying to get (again from staring at those maps too much) and a speculative route in mind.  The trouble was, I had absolutely no concept of what the streets I’d chosen would be like.  Would they be bike friendly routes, or roads full of semi-trucks carrying cargo and trying to run me over.  There were resources I could have used to help me figure some of this out, but I just needed to get out and ride.  I needed to start building that area familiarity that I had so taken for granted while riding around the Sacramento / Folsom area.

However, something funny happened.  I either was extremely lucky, or I’ve got some sort of city planners cycling route sixth sense.  I navigated my way through a couple of neighborhood streets until I came to my first “waypoint” street – Alameda De Las Pulgas.  It was a split boulevard (and I wanted to turn left) so I had to do a U-Turn, but I quickly discovered something.  This was a designated bike route.  I had somehow found myself on a pretty damn nice road to ride on my first time out.   I wasn’t the only guy pedaling that road either – always an encouraging sign.

My next waypoint was something called Tenderfoot Trail – and I was a little apprehensive about this one.  I had no idea if trail meant dirt or pavement.  After some initial wrong turns (and some damn steep – but short – climbs) I found my way to the trail entrance.  It was paved.  Dirty, but paved.  The entire area was kind of a canyon, and there was evidence of the hillsides being washed out in the recent rains.  However, as I made my way through the short trail I was distracted looking around.  It was actually quite beautiful.

The trail opened up into a park which I rolled on through to another street on the other side.  I was “off the map” now so to speak.  I had no idea where I was or exactly where I was going any longer, but I had more time so I decided to keep going.  I arbitrarily picked left and around the corner I went.

The road I was on started to pick up in incline, and I just kept spinning.  I could see the hill continuing to the next bend in the road, and it looked like it flattened out there.  Around the corner, more climbing to the next turn.  Repeat…  (Incidentally, why does every turn on a climb look like the top of the hill?)  That brought me back to the point I made earlier – I was riding completely unfamiliar territory.  I didn’t realize how much I relied on the fact that I knew my regular hills very well.  I knew every turn, every change in grade.  I knew where to save energy, and where to get up out of the saddle and just grind through.  Here, however, I had no idea how long the hill went on for.

I decided to turn back around without making it to the top.  Time was running out and I wanted to give myself some flexibility to try out some different roads on the return.  I still had to shower and get to work, after all.

The whole thing left me feeling pretty good about riding in this area, though.  The fact that I saw others out there spinning their pedals – some looking like commuters, some in full kit – inspired me as well.  I’m already looking over the maps, deciding where I’ll go tomorrow.  Pretty sure I’m gonna figure out how long that climb actually goes on for, and what’s on the other side.

To a cyclist there is possibly nothing worse than an injury in spring.  The sun is shining, and folks are out en masse riding around.  Every corner seems to echo with the sounds of folks clicking in – the whir of chains on cogs.

At least, that is how it seems when you are stuck waiting for a silly collarbone to heal.

But yesterday I did take my first tentative steps by mounting my bike on the trainer and spinning for a little less than an hour.  The tenderness at the broken bone as I supported my weight on the bars for the first time indicated that the bumps and vibrations of the road are at least a week or so out for me still.

Nonetheless, this may be one of the first times that my indoor trainer was a welcome device – instead of a necessity to grumble through.

It was about 8:30am on Dec 12.  It was a chilly winter’s day.  The skies were overcast, the ground was slightly damp, and the temperature was…

…57 degrees.

OK.  For most of the country Dec 12 is supposed to be a chilly winter’s day.  Folks think about storing the bike for the winter, or long workouts on a trainer until spring comes around to thaw out the ground and let us all outside.  But I ride in Sacramento.  And to be honest, I can’t really find a good reason to ride any differently in the winter than the summer.

I was out in my normal kit – just jersey and bibs.  No base layer, no arm warmers, no leg warmers.  And I wasn’t cold at all.  My only real concern was the wet mass of leaves that formed into slippery piles in my paths.  I also wasn’t some “nut job” out in inclement weather.  Lots of folks are realizing the possibilities of winter riding.  57 degrees is early morning summer temperatures in some parts.  Even if you are the type that favors warmer weather, a simple jacket, or long sleeve jersey, will probably make you comfortable.

And don’t forget – pro cycling goes on too.  Teams are out at training camps, getting to know new team members after transfers.  And the race calendar kicks off with the Tour Down Under on Jan 16.

If you really must have an off season, take off the week of Christmas and New Year’s Day.  Otherwise, keep on riding!

Time trials.  The race against the clock.  The race of truth.  The race of pain…

Time trials are probably the purest test of physical abilities in the cycling world, with no small measure of psychological toughness required as well..  There is always some amount of strategy in every human competition, but here the strategy is simply about how to meter out your power in such a way that you don’t blow up somewhere in the middle.  There is no drafting, no jockeying for position, no antics.  Just rider, bike and the course in front of them.

This particular time trial was put on by and for Cycle Folsom.  It was a 10.2 mile course – 5 miles out and back – with some short but steep risers in the path.  It was staged along the South canals in Rancho Cordova.

Officially, this was not a competitive time trial but more of a measure – a benchmark – against which to track training progress.  Of course, take any group of folks and involve a stop watch and you’ll have at the very least comparisons, and likely competitions.  So while it was a friendly event – and there was encouragements all around – I do know where in the rankings my elapsed time fell. 

This was definitely a learning experience for me.  I came out way too hard and was already at the redline withing the first mile or so.  I had to intentionally slow myself – to a rate much less than my strength would allow – in order to get my heart rate and breathing under control.  Only with a more realistic cardio rate could I then push my body to the limits again.  Lesson learned

I also seem to be getting a whole lot better at acknowledging – and then ignoring – pain in my legs.   Use it as an indicator of the amount of effort you are exerting for sure.  But it should not be a deterrent.

The great thing about this course is that it is a fixed quantity.  I can go back here again – ride the exact same route – and compare my times throughout the year.

September.  The daylight starts to go away a little earlier and arrive a little later.  Students are heading back into the classrooms.  For some, it is time to break out the toe clips and start the cyclocross season.  But unfortunately for many of us, it just means less hours of daylight and a higher chance of rain or snow ruining our outdoor riding experiences.

Long hours on the roads will be replaced by not-quite-as-long hours on the rollers.  Thousands of feet of climbing will be replaced by tens of minutes of intervals without going anywhere.

Let’s face it – sitting on a trainer indoors by yourself can become a little bit, shall we say, boring.  One of the common remedies to this boredom is to position the trainer in front of a TV and find some cycling video to watch.  I find this particularly useful for those short interval sessions.  There are great products out there like “The Downward Spiral“from The Sufferfest collection.  A good video can indeed help alleviate the boredom and provide some much needed motivation.

But sitting by yourself on a trainer with even the most beautiful of ride or race video playing in front of you still has the same flaw – you are alone.  The dynamics and social interactions of the group ride, or rush you get when you realize your buddy is still half way down the hill you just crested are often some of the greatest joys in cycling.

Spin classes can potentially help to fill this void.  If you simply enjoy sitting next to someone that is pedaling just as quickly as you are, these indoor group sessions can often be an easily accessible approximation of the weekend group ride.  They are definitely superb at maintaining and increasing your base fitness levels, and may just find you a few seconds or minutes on next season’s sprints and climbs.

For great head-to-head competition, gold sprints are a great alternative.  For those unfamiliar, gold sprints are essentially head-to-head bike races done on rollers, with equipment keeping track of distance traveled.  By using fork stands attached to the rollers so that folks don’t have to balance, many have also discovered the “joy” of combining bike racing with beer in a way never before (safely) possible.  Local pubs have set these events up right inside the bar, where partying patrons can hop in the saddle and pedal off the alcohol in a controlled environment.  Or, more “traditional” events will forgo the fork stands (and the alcohol) and challenge not only the rider’s speed but also bike handling abilities.  A great way to produce the feelings of competition in the off season.

Then again, if you are fortunate enough to live near a velodrome getting out on the track is another great “off season” option.  Given the simplicity of track bikes, you can actually get a fairly decent ride for a very reasonable price.  Most velodromes will have times set aside to introduce the concepts of indoor racing and how to do it in a way that is safe for both yourself and your fellow riders.  Plus, that track bike will give you some points with the local hipster/fixie crowd when you take it to the local grocery store.

Finally, there is one thing you can do that can help with all of your woes.  Get yourself some good wool clothing, perhaps some rain gear, and get out there and keep doing the same thing you did all summer: ride your bike.  The pouring rain leaves only one thing that any reasonable person can say when they pass the guy out riding – that dude is bad ass.

Today I had the opportunity to ride with Al and Kristen from Integrate Performance Fitness.

Al Painter is Mr. Integrate Performance Fitness.  When he is not spending time making folks enjoy his special brand of fitness building pain, he is also spreading his fitness wisdom at the VeloReviews podcast and cycling social media website.  In fact, the VeloReviews podcast is where I first heard of Integrate and Al Painter.

Al and Kristen pulled me up some of the hills around Los Altos after riding out of the Integrate studio in Mountain View.  Beautiful scenery, great company and a wicked descent made for a great afternoon.

This was all new territory for me.  I’d never ridden these roads.  To be honest, there were only about a couple of times I even knew where the heck we were.  Adding to the unfamiliarity is the fact that – as anyone who lives in my hometown of Sacramento can tell you – I’ve gotta go a long ways from my home to find any real hills.  Climbing is definately the weaker part of my cycling abilities, and that was fully put to the test by Al and Kristen.

The CardioTrainer app for my Droid phone (my cycling computer of choice for at least the next couple of weeks) tells me we did 22.3 miles, and about 319 yards (yes – its currently reporting yards) of elevation gain.  However, after uploading the GPS data to ridewithgps.com it told me 1,408 feet.  Either way, definitely enough to force me to focus real hard a couple of times to keep the cranks spinning to the top of a pitch.

After finishing the last half of the trip over some rollers in an out-n-back past Stanford University, a realization dawned on me:  somehow Al has control of the very weather on his rides.  I’m not exaggerating to say that we seemed to have a head wind pretty much the entire ride.  Ain’t no rest for the wicked.  Nor those that want to get stronger.  Nor those that can make you stronger!

We cruised over some flats for the last few miles, cooling down as we rolled back into the Integrate studio.  A teriffic ride.

Um….

But wait…

That wasn’t quite the end of it.  No, after a very short rest, Al starts whipping out all manner of medieval torture devices.  OK – so they were just resistance bands and stability balls – but we just got done with a ride man!

After some lay on your back and lift your hips all while you’ve got a stupid band you’ve got to fight against to keep you knees apart action, we actually moved into some great stretches.  The routine that Al put together (presumably on the fly) actually did wonders for me.  As I rode back to my Palo Alto office, my legs – and whole body –  felt amazingly limber and relaxed.

Again – HUGE thanks to both Al and Kristen for chillin’ at the top of a few of those climbs while I slugged my way up.  The atmosphere of the studio is amazing.  I hope to get to ride with you both again soon.