You know how I can tell when my heart rate is in the red?

I lose focus vision. The blurred vision usually occurs when climbing a steep hill after a few hours of woods riding. Your way reads a little safer. Enjoy your two years of naps.

Just be sure to use Heart Rate Reserve when you start calculating your zones.

Basically, instead of calculating say 90% of your full scale heart rate max based on something like 0 to 190, you first subtract your resting base rate from the upper figure then calculate percentages based on that smaller range.

Say your upper is 190 and your resting is 40. Do all your percentages based on 150, then add 40 to the derived number afterwards.

That will shift all your numbers up a smidge, and if you compare the two methods you will probably find the higher numbers just "feel right" to you.

There. Now shut the fuck up, SlamCrank.

Well, now I'm into the 80's, and I'm beginning to train with a heart rate monitor.

Maybe twenty years from now I can get a fancy shmancy power meter and learn your watt lingo. Hope all is well in the sunshine state!

I haven't heard anybody other than me (and therefore the Widder), using power meters in any way better than merely porting old timey heart rate process over to a new gadget's numbers.

People still haven't caught on that it's the difference in looking at a foot long ruler gauged to inches and a yard stick guaged to 1/32's… not to mention HR gets your information to you about 10 seconds too late to do much of anything about it.

However, lots of people do really good with HR, and Friel is great, and the best part of Friel's greatness is the discussion of naps.

I figure I've only got two more years of getting my base napwork in, then I'm going to start on all the other stuff.

Once you eat the first one, the second, third etc just seems so easy.

I'm on my third chocolate dipped biscoti of the morning with my coffee.

Those long car rides (after you've done the car sex thing) can get really boring.

You know. You have to stop for gas, and take a leak, and all they do is put candy bars in your face.

BTW: I believe having sex with a car is illegal in most states, so you'd better be a little more careful how you talk about your car sex thing.

Let the cycling begin!

There it was in large sans serif bold face: ADULT TOYS.

It also said something about videos and DVD's, but I've got lots of them so hardly noticed.

However, I'm always in the mood for some more adult toys, so I yelled for the Widder to hold on, and I almost took out the SUV pacing beside us, as I lurched my big truck into the waiting parking lot.

I ran up to the guy minding the store, and queried, "Sign says you've got all the major adult toys, right?"

"Yup."

"I LOVE new adult toys. Give me a Seven with Dura-Ace components, please!"

"Sorry, sir, but I'm quite sure we have nothing at all so small as a seven for durin' aces and corn holin'."

Acceptable regional accents aside, that’s the best I can do with what this guy said, and what he did to the word "Ace" was truly inexcusable.

I'm not even going to try to describe what he showed me as a substitute product.

He'll look like this. >>>

Hope you and the Widder have a very uneventful trip to Florida in a few days.

Too much snow and too low of temperatures for riding outside today. The Over the Hill Gang's Christmas party was last night, so of course many additional calories were consumed.

Regarding snow bicycle riding skinny (1.9") rubber studded tires work best around 25 to 30 degrees F for riding.

Enjoy your snowbird home for the next months.

Georgy

Anyone who catches on now will be pleased to find it closed tomorrow as we motor south.

This is what real men do when it gets cold!

Keep worrying about your watts, or was that your squirts?

In the infamous words of Clubber Lang, "Pain, I forcast Pain."

A Mission is in the future.

Keep it straight (I mean your paceline).

Tony

But who is that tall girl with those two men?

HUMP REPORT

He was over, and I think he said some stuff to me, but I really couldn't focus on it.

Ever since I caught myself swooping down to the floor and eating a three year old Cheerio (so far as I know), I know I have to be careful with my hunger.

Maybe Turtle Boy was talking to me, but it was all I could do to stop myself from knocking him down, killing him, cooking him up, and eating his charred remains.

I probably wouldn't have bothered with the cooking.

Would post in Chatterbox, but I'm network connected to work.

I just got out of the pose with your legs up against the wall: it took 5 minutes just to get my legs straight.

Once in the pose, a few more minutes for my muscles to release my hips.

Once there, it felt all weird and tingly around the herniation.

After getting out of the pose I have much more ability to flex—with the hips… without pain at the herniation.

FAB!

Mary Beth

While you are at it, you may as well give a shout-out to the guys who read your e-mail passing through the network connection as well.

What do they think I am… a farmer?

Take THAT Joe Straub!

I bet that SlingShot guy gets lots of adoration for being the author of such a great site and President of Amercian Road Cycling.

Mountainbikes are for girls.

He got fucked for showing up at the TDF with a power meter and blowing the lid off everybody's little "ain't we working so hard" bullshit charade!

It's so tight, it's making your belly stick out!

I'd have saved 300 or so nights staring at the wall trying not to think about eating, if I only knew it was a strap problem all along

.

Whatever happened to 2 hours on rollers while watching What Not to Wear?

Join the Over the Hill Gang tomorrow at 10 am at Goose Pond to ride the Up and Over.

Just close your eyes and imagine your 2.5 inch tires crunching through the frozen top inch of dirt just to be met by clinging mud and frost.

Now that puts a strain on your legs as you climb that never ending hill.

With all that body heat built up ride down the other side with fogged-over glasses on ice covered rocks!

Happy Holidays to all, and to all a good night.

HUMP REPORT

Let me just say nice job to the MEN who stuck out the cold this morning and put in a great ride.

Temp was bareable. Poo on all you sissy trainer riders. By the time I got home I put in a nice 3:45 on the road, and I only lost two finger tips. Not bad!!!

And to Doug...You are the man!!!!

All that complaining, and you still made it out. Those old guys can be hard core!!

Until next time.....

That's just something you stole from Dave Fucking Freifelder.

If you ever want to make money and put those skills to a better task, I hear there are some Somali boat captains looking to hire.

BTW: What were you doing reading old ARC articles yesterday and clicking over to the Endico website?

By winter I was in pretty good shape and continued best I could.

One Saturday morning it was 22 degrees, and I showed up for the Hump to find not one person there!

I went out anyway, and the wind sweeping up Round Hill Road was so severe, it felt like razor blades slicing into my face—despite my balaclava.

By the time I got to the "S" turn I decided to turn back.

Immediately on turning back the break in the wind was just enough to make me rethink and turn back out.

On the second or third turn back, I decided that if I could just make it to Big Island I could go do the "B" ride instead, where the hills and barren trees might shield me.

However, a few turnarounds later, I knew I had to face facts and go back to the parking lot.

On the way back I kept wondering, "I can't believe nobody showed up. I would have thought at least one person would be at the Hump."

Then I realized there was one rider, and it was me.

Glenn and Dave have taken over for you.

This aggression will not stand.

Fuck Computrainers.

Fuck watts.

What'd I tell you?

Ain't watts grand!?

I just finished it. It was a very good read in my opinion. Tons of power data and numbers for number freaks (hint hint).

Apparently all I have to do is get down to 98 lbs., and nobody will ever catch me again.

It is Peetie KaKa's favorite book, but that was before I ever heard of watts, so I'll have to read it again.

I love watts. I can't get enough of them. I don't do anything but look at them, talk about them, and dream about them. Watts is great.

Whatever happened to your supposed project to kick my ass?

I've been working on kicking this one, but I keep getting distracted.

Just when we thought we were going to get a moment of political peace with an actual human being as President.

This goddamn story gets repeated so fucking much, you'd think people would learn. It's like they never heard of such a thing before.

How the hell's Obama going to overcome this stigma?

Hey, you!!!

SlingShot dude, you're so fucking smart you probably got one of your big ideas how Obama-lama's going to help stop this shit from ever happening again.

What is something only Obama could do and should be his absolute very first duty when he gets into office?

If you're so fucking smart, SlingShot, what is the secret of life?!

MyDataList.RepeatColumns = 3

I did find this. >>>

Here's the closest I could find. >>>

But mostly I would just like to never again find myself on the back of a fast ride and hear, "Jesus. What the fuck's wrong with Joe? He looks like Palletman. Better not say anything. He sure won't want to hear that!

Please advise.

I have the three week cold of death right now, and I'm looking to share it with someone.

BTW: Congratulations on surviving Sally Harding road with the big boys, whom you now find not so big.

It is just that there's the little matter of Ridgebury Road; and, given how you perform there at 220 lbs, nobody (positively nobody) wants to see you perform there at 152 lbs… and if you think the last 42 lbs were hard, just wait till you see the next 14.

By the way, where is The Black Widow in all this?

That is the lowest I have been all year, and it is 42 lbs or so down from February.

Even more incredible is the fact that this is 9.6 lbs lower than this same day two years ago: the year I did my best in terms of weight loss but was already 25 lbs above my best of that year, and just before my three week cold that helped fuel my propulsion to back over 220 last year.

When I look at the records for two years ago, I notice that I am less than just two weeks away from being in Floriduh where I can start actual training and get back on my bike again, and where I don't have to worry so much about putting on 12 lbs in 9 days... like I did last month.

That means I am poised to turn over the New Year in the best shape of my long and tortured life.

All I have to do is avoid all possible human contact!

It looked like one of those wee wee pads.

I didn't notice the Endico signature in the corner. Honest!

Othwerwise she would have gotten this.

We've got your lost puppies right here.

Let the games begin. Is this SlingShot's reward for becoming SlimShot?

How good is Toe Clip....hidden for a season, yet still tapped in.

I had to work out some security issues with forms on another website, and this is a good test bed.

You will be excited to know that I have added support for paragraphing.

HUMP REPORT

That was one of the smoothest 21.8 mph rides I've ever been on.

I felt like we were riding a team time trial. Great work guys!

BTW: Widder says, "Get a room!"

Now who the fuck gave you my address? They're dead where they stand.

The mail lady already got what she had coming for putting it in my mailbox.

Of course he always has been faster than the rest of you.

While we were debreifing her workout, I explained to Mary that there is no way she is more than 100% efficient (which is what the Metal Man is), so her beating him with fewer watts can only be explained by the fact that her 119 lbs is much less than whatever weight the Metal Man is assumed to be.

Mary is currently in talks with the Computrainer people trying to find out just how much he weighs.

Is that a sweat and urine converting machine in the background?

Mary is in charge of making those, and that one is in the final stage of production.

Her job is to put it there and make sure it stays there for years, and years, and years.

31.7 mi, 1:30:02

Danny: 247w
Berto: 234w
TwGeo: 207w
Paris: 191w

HUMP REPORT

Then he let you guys get a half mile out before he left the parking lot.

Did he really think he was going to catch you with the Widder pulling?

He probably thought we turned left onto the Hump course, but we went straight out Pumpkin Swamp.

By the time we realized he was missing, we figured he probably knew better than to waste his time with us.

I heard that you did reconnaisance of Twin Lynn's ride for Mary today.

I heard you were surprised at how weak Lynn is.

I would hang behind her and watch real close. Numerous times I could see from her body language that she was way over torqued.

Despite her overworking I could barely stay on her wheel.

My guess is that she is only about 10x sronger than Mary.

I thought she would be a lot stronger.

I just watched a documentary about a guy who was an artist but never made it.

His failure seeemed to push him into a life of ignobility, and he became instead a rather aggressive collector of art.

Actually, I have often heard of this guy, but even though his watercolors weren't all that bad, I have never once heard his name used in the same sentence as "artist"— only as a failed "painter" which I always took to mean failed "house painter."

Isn't it interesting the taboos that people will assign to their words?

The other two are only restatements of quasi martial arts and yoga concepts.

Why all this focus on dance, martial arts and yoga?

Meditate on that!

!!! ATTENTION !!!
(major import)

After noticing how dysfunctional all the riders were on the last Sunday ride we went to, I was going to write a new chapter for Cycling Performance Simplified, but I'm too busy doing stuff like this, so you'll have to figure it out on your own.

Get these three books:

1) Egoscue, Pete, and Roger Gittines. 1992. "The Egoscue method of health through motion : a revolutionary program that lets you rediscover the body's power to protect and rejuvenate itself." 1st ed. New York: HarperCollins Publishers. ISBN: 0060168811

2) Brourman, Sherry, and Randy Rodman. 1998. "Walk yourself well : eliminate back, neck, shoulder, knee, hip, and other structural pain forever--without surgery or drugs." 1st ed. New York: Hyperion. ISBN: 0786862939

3) Calais-Germain, Blandine. 2007. "Anatomy of movement." English language ed. Seattle: Eastland Press. ISBN: 9780939616572 (alk. Paper)

Number 3 is maybe most important.

It is the mechanical and wiring schematic of your body.

Everything else you've ever seen on the subject is static with muscles piled on muscles, but this book separates the basic elements and shows the dynamic.

Everybody should have it and use it. It also provides the transition for the logical progression from the Egoscue to the Brourman books.

Get all three books now, today, and immediately. Then use them to provide context for your winter training and spin classes.

I mean it!!! You can thank me later.

I have one extra Computrainer for you on Tuesday.

You can ride with Dangerous Dan.

But here's the interesting theoretical truth (which we have confirmed in the real world this year):

Given that your weight is 167 lbs, and Widder's is only 119 lbs, she would only need 175 watts to stay with you guys.

That probably goes a long way toward explaining why people think she's so fucking strong.

BTW: Did I mention she did 213 this morning?

          I know you and coach Bob are always striving to improve your performance. Like the no front wheel idea.

          I heard something on the radio that I thought might be of some assistance to you. Have Bob analyze it and let me know.

          NASA has installed on the space station a device to turn the urine and sweat of the astronauts into drinking water. I am thinking that this is a must have for you. No water bottle, no water bottle wind resistance.

          Danny

In fact, stop giving anybody any ideas. Make them pay for them. Then keep them to yourself.

I looked into the matter and realize that if people start using this technology, my apparent performance will not be enhanced but significantly degraded, as I will lose the reinstatement of my three mile advantage everytime you guys (would otherwise) stop for a pee break.

Not to mention: Paris's side yard will become severely overgrown.

BLASTER had a logging accident?

Awhile back President Bush said you would be going after the terrorists where they live by freezing all their financial assets.

How'd that work out?

SAFETY ALERT

He said it the other day as well, and it makes me nuts.

We must get word to "the man" that it is "Michelle and me."

You had to go out with Widder to take the Subaru to Middletown for a checkup, and you stopped off at the mall only to remind yourself why you don't like to be around people, and now you're so buzzed on caffeine, sugar, and pizza that you are going to write about it?

I was in the book store and heard a young woman (girl really) telling some rutting male that Obama is a Muslim.

I could tell that the guy was thinking, "How am I getting into these pants," while he only said, "Really? So you voted for McCain then."

She flitted around him like Sarah Jessica Parker around Steve Martin in LA Story and cooed, "Of course! You'd think after 9/11 people wouldn't want a Muslim for President."

I was just about to set her straight with a gratis history lesson about how black people never even got on television when I was a kid, how shocking it was to see the first TV commercial with an African not portrayed as a shucking jiving sycophant, how I confronted my own prejudice (not bigotry mind you, but prejudice) at college when I realized the thing that had been bothering me about the black guy two doors down in our dorm was that he was actually smarter than me (by a large margin), and how exciting it was to have somebody like Barack as a role model in order to explain to kids, "See? You really need to learn to speak acrolect English. Do you think Obama would be President if he said axe instead of ask?"

Then I remembered I just saw Obama say, "... President Bush was gracious enough to invite Michelle and I to the White House... "

So I kept my mouth shut and only thought, "Muslim or not (which he's not), can't we get a President who doesn't fucking slaughter the English language on a regular basis?"

He should have said, "... Michelle and me... "!

Here's the rule: check each side of the 'and' by itself.

In this case, "President Bush invited me" would be the correct choice, not "President Bush invited I."

City slicker snooty ass motherfucker.

Saying "invited Michelle and I" sounds like it should be right, but it's not.

No wonder Barack didn't have a clue that some people shoot guns for fun and kill Bambi for fun-food, not because they are desperate, but because they are assholes.

In any case, the only thing we can hope for is Obama's ability to correctly pluralify potatoes.

I ended up doing 50 miles.

It was brutal, cold, and went on forever.

It made the whole thing go a lot quicker, and we saw Don Lee (The Lone Rider) on the way back from Monroe.

Widder said, "I haven't ridden with Rob in years. He's still got the steadiest wheel on the East Coast."

Rob mentioned there is a club meeting in Sugar Loaf tomorrow, and he plans to beg Cranky to let him be President again, so she doesn't stop riding and get all fat and stupid like Bianchi did.

It must be all that training for the 23+ Widder's Hump.

What is the best thing you learned this year that is the most important thing to know?

HUMP REPORT

1) Kevin Haley
2) Dan McNeilly
3) Humberto Cavalheiro

Kevin was spinning so easy and was so far ahead during the sprint, it was almost as if he were on a different ride.

Humberto contends that just so long as nobody from another team (other than his own) passed him at the end, he is quite content to have his teammate take top honors, and his other teammate second honors.

Apparently, large helpings of pie has a calming effect.

But on second glance I realized it was only Twin George who has apparently been getting some pie for himself.

I may have fucked up and let my campaign get so fucking far out of control that I actually won, but I sure don't deserve to be called Omama.

And I sure as shit don't post here.

How about Barack Omama?

After all. He's the President. He can do whatever he wants.

NOTHING HAS CHANGED!!!

This country is never going to be truly egalitarian and free until there is a Portuguese President.

I was 168.0 lbs this morning which is almost 40 lbs off since Februrary, so I knew the hills were going to be a lot different.

Heart Attack Hill wasn't so bad despite me being dropped and not getting back for the next two miles, but after all Widder was only 30 watts off a personal best, so I almost didn't mind when she reported how easy it felt for her—now that she's all efficient, smart, and all.

However, I finally did get back on their wheels and without very much obvious waiting on their part.

Unfortunately, when we went through the light on 208 in Washingtonville and began the climb up to The Hill that Must Not Be Named, I knew that Mary would be dicking around trying to get in her clips after the light caught us, so I went around and started climbing real easy like, but she decided to help me, and came around, got in front and triggered Humberto.

From that point on Mr. Turtle Boy rammed his established routine a little harder which was: push every hill just ever so slightly harder than the one before it, and which is: (still) not a lot of fun for me.

After the big hill out of Washingtonville, I finally got back on the ride just at the start of the Silence Climb which ends after turning onto 207.

I was on Humberto's wheel at the top of that one, even though I had to rush around Mary at the stop sign, because she hesitated to avoid getting hit by that CAR LEFT.

Then I took a little pull on the downhill, but soon as the uphill started I dropped off and Mary took over for a long pull past the school which ended with Humberto stating flatly, "That was some pull Mary!"

Sadly, that also signaled the turn back home, which is where Turtle reinvigorated his progressive feathering the heat up till I was totally basted, done and toast.

Of course, Mary went on to finish with him which is not so surprising, but which does signal the end of my involvement with training her.

I have decided she is already too strong, and any more improvement is in nobody's interest, certainly not my own.

In fact, way before the end, I was almost as totally sick of the ride as I am of this fucking election, which I also wish was way the fuck over.

Look at the e-mail Widder just got from Lauren Warren. >>>

The lesbian is gay for Obama!

EXIT POLL

In an almost empty voting place (no line at all), Widder just succeeded in cancelling out Turtle Boy's vote.

Later today she hopes to cancel out his climb on Heart Attack Hill

For God's sake, stop watching Fox.

I have to get back to my floor exercises. 168.0 today.

NOT OBAMA !!!!!!!!!!

I CAN NOT BELIEVE YOU GUYS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HE IS GOING TO FUCK UP ALL THE SMALL BUSINESSES. MOST OF THEM ARE GOING TO CLOSE AND GO TO CHINA.

THAT IS IT. I AM NOT RIDING WITH YOU NO MORE !!!!!!!!!

Please come.

AMERICAN ROAD CYCLING
OFFICIALLY
ENDORSES

OBAMA!!!

Besides, I think he wanted the workout.

She'll never remember it anyway.

The whole thing seems perfectly clear to me.

You just want to be spinning the hardest gear you can hold forever.

That way your form never breaks, and you are always as efficient as possible.

Now, if you would just explain that to the Widder.

HUMP REPORT

1) Humberto Cavalheiro
2) Joe Straub
3) Dan McNeilly

Overall time was a 21.3 mph average which is exactly what the Widder did on her own about this time last year.

I know you stressed that hamstring yesterday, and by the end of your nightly walk around the lakes in Monroe, you could barely move.

So this morning you got up at 5:30 in order to do enough floor exercises to limp on over to the Hump.

You were really worried that you wouldn't be able to ride at all, but you managed to stay on the Widder's wheel all the way to Soons Hill before your hip gave out, and you watched her disappear up Ridgebury testing the new way of handling the hard part.

Then you did not give up, but decided if you went real easy, you might be able to continue riding this week and put the capper on your new Under 170 body weight.

Your plan was to continue chanting to yourself the little script you had been running since last night: "Go easy and don't hurt your hip and knee. The rest of the week is more important than any little victory. When the main group passes (for once in your life) don't fuck with them. Just let them go."

I am well aware of how easy it is to do real damage to yourself in the heat of the group when your pain goes into hiding under the reflex to chase, but after your 15 miles of easy spinning (mostly 10 mph) and promising yourself to be good, I'm betting you finally did the right thing and kept your health in mind.

Still, I want to hear it from your own lips.

What did you do when the main group passed?

You are too kind.

I was actually Army Airborne/RIP trained.

In my current life I head a business publisher and work with authors every day.

Your flight check is a great tool, but you need to (I think) reduce the number of elements somehow and (like business authors) create a visual for each element that helps the reader "concretize" the learning, so they can practice in their mind.

We all remain children, and words with pictures work best for our infantile mind.

Heck, even in airborne school I think they got us to learn how to land from a parachute jump by showing us pictures of guys who screwed up the landing and broke various bones.

I plan to follow along with the cover art and develop how-to's based on stick figures, but first I'll have to show it to a few more people in order to get a better handle on the ways people will misunderstand.

Currently the online sheet represents notes for my own use, and what you are looking at is the extended version which includes some of the extra elements required to step Mary through the learning process.

I've shown parts of the Flight Check to a few other people, but you are the first one to take enough interest to ask an actual question.

In fact, this year when we got back from Florida, I was truly shocked to find that even those people who use power meters (plus the people who are training them) do not have a clue what the data means nor how to develop workouts based on watts instead of merely porting over old timey heart rate procedures.

Sorry to hear you have to work with authors every day. Do any of them use the word 'motherfucker'?

It's not often I get to show the Flight Check to somebody who really knows performance and acheivement, but The Dropper is a former Navy Seal, so there's no doubt he has the tools to understand what I showed him.

Otherwise, I stayed my standard 50 yards back and paced the group while working on technical studies.

I have gotten to the point of knowing exactly when my knee and left hip have bailed out, and that happened way before we got to the first over of my grade of hill, so at the top of Donkey Hill (the first moment they had gotten out of sight), I didn't mind stopping to phone the Widder to find out which way they had turned.

She told me they were on their way to Sussex, and I was at the light in Sussex when she phoned back again to tell me they had turned onto the long climb up Sally Harding Road.

I turned around, went back the way I had come, and found her and Dropper (Dave Parker) waiting for me at the intersection.

When the group had turned onto the climb, Mary saw that Dave was off the back, because he had stupidly believed the promotional material for the ride when it stated, "…easy endurance," but when the ride turned into a tempo jousting match he still refused to come off his program and was going along slow.

Mary was expecting the group to wait for Dave, because she also stupidly believed the promotional statement, "… nobody will get dropped," and by then they were at a "Y" intersection with nobody in sight and nobody answering their cell phones.

I was already at the light in Sussex.

Therefore, the confusion in directions was just luck that had turned in my favor, because I got to show somebody else the Flight Check, and learned some new ways people are likely to misunderstand, so I can describe it better next time.

Like I said, Dave is a former Navy Seal so no idiot, and the few times he had to think about what I was saying were very informative about how hard it might be for people to understand parts of the check list.

Dave had great questions, and that sure beats the standard scenario where I show it to somebody, and they assume it is some sort of joke, or something foggy and vague.

But like I said before, Dave is a former Navy Seal… plus he is actually training with a trainer (not to mention worked as Glenn Babikian's main hit man—chasing down breaks on Glenn's way to Second Place Overall in this year's Sussex series), so it was a real reward getting to show him the Flight Check and get his feedback.

Valuable stuff indeed!

[Editor's Note: Turns out Navy Seal should have read "Army Airborne/RIP," but nobody ever heard of those guys.]

FRESH MEAT ALERT

This late afternoon on the Heritage Trail the Widder and I were chased down and caught by a new rider—a tall good draft on a beautfully maintained vintage Giant of Big Bianchi proportions.

Due to his newbie status (riding since June), he did not know that passing Widder is somewhat ill advised.

She jumped on his wheel and hung on till she heard him puff and give up.

Then she went around, and we continued to harrass him all the way to the turn-around by the airplane park.

That's where we explained that when Mary came around she said, "Don't give up," not "Now you're going down" like he had thought.

We also told him about the local bike club and the Hump, and I gave him a brief seminar about not wasting so much energy grinding such a big gear.

I only told him about torque vs. watts because I know he is eventually going to hook up with all you people, and I can tell that with just a little bit of help he will be kicking your asses for me.

Although he had toe clips (and Mary almost started calling him Toe Clip Jr.), that whole thing has been about done to death (and will be just as soon as Toe Clip shows up again), so we'll just call this new guy The Pharmecist, because he actually is one, and people will be really confused by it.

Just think of the great stories: "The ride was really winding down, and everybody was wasted. Then The Pharmecist showed up."

Considering his running and skiing background, he is going to be a contender, so look for him to show up at the Hump sometime soon.

His name is Mark, and he is a super nice guy... but we should be able to change that easy as his name.

He's already researching community colleges.

I witnessed this with my own eyes, but the people in charge of reporting such stuff apparently believe that you are all too weak willed to handle the truth.

However, I don't care about your sad little feelings, so I am going to tell you what I saw right out loud.

Tonight as I was coming back from my final nightly walk around the lakes in Monroe, I noticed an unscheduled rain shower had begun.

Except, something looked very strange about it.

It was snowing!

What are you doing? Running for Chair of the Portugreasican Cranky Appreciation Society?

Somebody tell Joe Straub here is the download page for the Training Peaks software trial version, and remind him the site does a good job of implying signing up for a training series and program is required, but it is not.

The program is called TrainingPeaks WKO+, and my recollection is that the only stuff disabled from the trial version is paid-for training series stuff, such as submit for comment.

Get the TrainingPeaks WKO+ Athlete Edition at the top of the page.

I tried it, but decided the PowerTap software does a better job for us.

First forgive me for again not saying goodbye!

Glenn was pulling back on 94, and I was just staring at his wheels b/c lord knows there was no other view to see around either side of him - being so tall and all.

It dawned on us that you must have gone right onto Meadow Avenue, and we did not follow the ride leader.

Dan and I waited at the office, but perhaps you went right to the house in order to make it to the parade in time.

Sorry about the end of ride blunder.

Ride recap: FABULOUS! Better than last year!

Recap of all of the Halloweenisms:

 • The ride started with trick or treating with tootsie pops from Palletman.

 • Next, FEAR—as we pretended to get onto route 17 South (the Quickway), but then charged ahead through speeding traffic and lights scaring Joe Straub out of his saddle.

 • Alfred Hitchcock's "The Birds" on Johnson Road by the farm, as many many black birds took flight while we sped through?

 • Haunted House people making scary noises, boos, and caws through the bridge, almost scaring the Black Widder Spider off her broom.

 • A meticulous fake looking neighborhood which, on the previous night, Art blew clean of all leaves but 1.

 • Ghost riders at the right turn on Hill Road as 3 riders from behind appeared in front!

 • Glenn and Joe disappearing 2x inside the Forest of Fear.

 • Cider donuts!! TREAT! At Roe's.

 • An authentic black Halloween cat at Roe's!

 • The disappearance of the Ride Leader in ghosty downtown Chester.

THANK YOU for the FRIGHTFUL DELIGHT.

M, c, N, e, i, l, l, y.

MCNEILLY—as in McNeilly Wood Products, Inc.

Please apologize to Pedro for me.

I know he thought that I was pissed off at him on last Sunday's ride, because I didn't talk to him, and I didn't talk to him again on this week's Forest of Fear ride—which was, by the way, the best ever including a new loop through Winding Hills Park.

What Pedro probably does not know is that these Sunday rides are pretty much the same thing for me as if I showed up to ride in the Tour de France.

I have the same level of angst and requirement to concentrate. One slight mistake and I'm out of the ride, so I don't really get a chance to talk to anybody at all. I just ride the best I can and try to keep out of trouble.

In fact, I couldn't even listen to a story Dr. Art was telling me on some hill. I had to have him repeat it again after we were over the top.

Also, and much to my chagrin, I missed watching Cranky's hip give out.

It got so bad she had to get off her bike and self adjust at about the three quarters mark, but Widder reported that she saw it was in bad shape as soon as the ride began.

Had I not been lost in my own little hell, with my own self survival involvement, I would have noticed it, and I might have figured out something to help her.

Of course, Dr. Art actually would have helped her, but he was off chasing people who got off course.

I have had a lot of experience with this sort of stuff due to my own problems, plus my watching Widder work through her own foot/knee/leg/hip/sciatic problems for the last several months.

Sadly, it is likely that nobody else on the ride knew it was really just a matter of Cranky definitely not putting in a performance equal to her usual.

There is no way that anything about that ride should have given her the slightest trouble. I mean, she had trouble on the first hill coming into Goshen, and I was basically on her wheel the whole time!

Just a couple days ago she was with the Thursday ride on the same hill, and they dropped me like I was nothing (which I wasn't).

It didn't even register as significant at the time, because I was just in my "get through this ride" mode, and wasn't noticing anything else. I really didn't talk to anybody.

That's the main reason I didn't say anything to Pedro today.

The other reason is because he wasn't on the ride.

Too bad too. Because they missed seeing Cranky rolling all over the side of the road trying to self adjust… with Halloween orange finger nails.

The pain would have been worth it.

Send me that Hunter Allen book. I have set me self up for a Heart Attack Hill rematch with the Portuguese Militia.

The turtle one apparently feels that I dropped him on heart attack hill and is harboring some sort of grudge.

WHO KNEW- it will be a long lonely winter in the dungeon.

Attn Zirra:

-- Address redacted for security ---

Z

In fact, at this very moment she is off-shore at a beauty retreat resort of some sort slapping back Hot Totties like they were… well, I'm not going to mention the sort of stuff Paris usually slaps back.

Otherwise, the hammering of Turtle Boy you mention can be traced back to the day you received your Zirra nom.

On that day you did indeed paste Humberto's ass to the ground, and he has never forgotten. Nobody expected it, and nobody thought to respond, and nobody believed it afterwards.

Despite the fact that most recently you couldn't even come close to having a rat's ass chance of smacking down a single one of the Portugreasicans on any slope whatsoever other than one preceded by a minus (-) sign (after all it is really a matter of power to kgs), Turtle Boy is still skittish over the previous affair.

In any case, I thought you already had this book, what with your conversations with Hunter himself and all.

Check the image of the cover against your bookshelf again, and if you don't have it, one is on the way free of charge, sans payment due, and thank you for taking a copy off my hands.

You might like to read it, but the only thing you really need to see is the chart on page 64. The rest of it, you will be be able to figure out as obvious.

If I had, I would only have three of the Power Meter books (which apparently cannot be given away) laying around ready to go out.

In fact, one person I gave the book to, brought it back after skimming through it.

You'll probably find it hard to believe, but one of the only people I know who does have a power meter (SRM), doesn't even know how to set an interval on it during a ride!

Think of that. The turtle saves the frogs.

Hope all is well.

I have begun discussing power training with a guy named Hunter Allen. He is a pretty interesting guy.

I participated in a webinar about power secrets of the TDF. Some really amazing numbers.

The lead out for a sprinter starts 15 miles out, and each team member is drilling it at 600-700 watts for pulls on front and covering attacks to well over 1000 watts.

Nuts just Nuts.

I am getting a copy of the power files and will send them off to you.

I have a question about google search manipulation.

A friend of mine got mixed up in a pretty big mess that is well documented when you google his name.

I do a fair bit of business with him, and I am nervous about his bad press affecting me.

How does one go about manipulating google search results.

Google "Jay Kolmar," and also "Kelley Drye," and you can see the deal.

Let me know

Kevin

Is this the Allen Hunter you've hooked up with?

Classic ARC Book Review

If so, that is the book from which we took the specs to place Mary's 5 minute performance earlier this year at Cat 3 for MEN.

The chart is on page 64 of the book, and it is the one part I refuse to publish, because people should buy the book in order to get the chart.

But people are basically cheap motherfuckers, so I have been passing out Allen and Coggan books like they were chicklets.

We currently have six copies here, just waiting for the appropriate homes to wander in. As for those google results, I wouldn't worry about it.

Unless there is some sort of legal action that connects the three of you, not much is likely to result from the relationship being reported. Anybody who relies on the Internet for real information is an idiot anyway.

There really is no way to manipulate google in terms of blocking results you don't like—unless you are China, of course.

One can, however, do a pretty good job of establishing rational results for rational searches by phrasing text appropriately on appropriate pages such as this:

Cycling Performance Simplified search

BTW: Be sure to read the Walsh book about doping in the sport of cycling, so you can place 'Nuts just Nuts' in some sort of context.

In any case, 600-700 watts doesn't seem to be such a big number anyway. Though 1000 starts feeling a little hard after awhile.

Of course, in your own case 1000 probably ain't such big a deal either. Except you would need closer to 1800 to keep up on most hills we climb.

When you get those files, make sure they are compatible with PowerAgent software, and check to see if it is ok for me to publish them. -b

Now that Pedro is a contender, I don't want to fuck up his ride.

Besides, I still owe him the 10 dollars extra he gave me back after the Portuguese dictionary purchase.

If I don't talk to him, he can't ask for it.

Starting well before the "S" turn Rudy attacked 3 or 4 times at up to 40 mph, then back to 30 mph.

Finally he let Joe, Andreas and Miles break away.

When I went to chase, Rudy just said, "No, Humberto, let them stay out there for awhile."

Those boys were really getting away, and I was getting nervous, because they were really far.

Then Rudy came to the front and fucking pulled so fucking fast that when we passed those guys they tried to stay with us, but they were gone off the back like they had no pedals... and that was just at the end of the "S" turn.

Rudy can easily hold a 30+ pace. JEEEZ!

Oh, yeah. I almost forgot.

In the middle of all this he went back to check on his girl friend 3 times, then came back and attacked again.

HUMP REPORT

1) Rudolph Napalitano

For the second week in a row, and in a hotly contested finish, The Hump was taken by Rudolph Napalitano.

Actually, only second was hotly contested, because Rudolph breezed to the finish easily pacing about 20 yards off the FRONT of the FRONT of the FRONT FRONT Group—who were all working like dogs trying to keep him in sight.

Looks like Rudolph figured out where the finish is.

Somebody surely took second, third, etc, but those details were lost in the barrage of epithets being thrown back and forth by Widder and SlingShot, which went something like this.

"Did you see his legs!? That skin!? Those muscles!?" THAT ASS!!?

"Mary, just shut the fuck up!! There are other riders here, you know."

"Oh, sorry, I guess that was rude. I'll stop... but did you see those legs, that skin...?"

"WIDDER!!"

Personally I've been focused on .38 or .45, temple or palate.

I heard some people talking at Clayton and Delaney's about how you finally showed up for a Thursday night ride and punished them so bad they never want you back.

Every time they dropped me, a different one got punished to come back and get me.

By the end of it, each one in turn had pulled me back to the group, and everybody decided they all wished they had never even heard of cycling.

He's not so fat anymore. SlingShot motored up Old Mansion Road. The rest of us wanted to go straight home on the flat trail.

Mary Beth

As you know, I showed up for the Tuesday Joe-Fix-It's ride (even though it is officially ended for the season), in order to make sure any stagglers still showing up would get the memo.

Sure enough, the Widder was there with her husband that fat bastard, SlingShot.

I saw that you and some others were pulling in for the ride, so I left.

I assume the Widder and her fat bastard husband went out with you guys and caused the usual problems.

Any suggestions?

She'll just make up some nonsense about being on her father's computer all weekend, and it is filtered, so he never has to see the word: motherfucker.

Apparently his life has been bad enough just knowing Cranky.

It was on the return climb back up to the outlook on 218.

At the next to the last hill just before the overlook, I was on the West Point group's wheel, and we had just passed a bunch of people at the bottom.

When I realized it was just me and West Point (and we were now far away from all those people we dropped at the bottom), I realized this was just like that old epic story we all read about way back when—the one with West Point on this very same ride.

Maybe I was delirious with excitement, because just as we were cresting the hill (where you would never expect it), a calm serene quiet voice with not a hint of stress in it said, "You are doing great, Mike. Keep up the good work."

I glanced over, and on my right shoulder it was the ghost of SlingShot.

I didn't even know the guy was dead!

People are more likely to believe you were abducted by a UFO and received an alien anal probe.

Tonight Widder showed me how she can finally get up out of an armchair for the kitchen table by pushing herself up to arm length with her hands, holding it, then pushing up to a full stand with one leg.

That was one of the exercises I started her on a few months ago, after I realized that she was still stumbling on her cycling power stands after a few months working on them.

She hadn't done the armchair exercise for a few weeks, so I asked her to try one again.

She came back excited.

"I couldn't even do one of those before. Now I can do repeats with no pain in my feet or my knees."

"That's great. Would you like to hear about the Master Class Grand Prix Dressage version?"

"Sure."

"Put your leg out straight. Put your other foot under the chair. Put both arms straight out in front of you. Go to the top. Now go all the way to the floor and come back up!"

"Bullshit. I wouldn't even be able to come up from the chair that way. Now you are just fucking with me. I've never heard of such a thing."

"Gymnasts do it all the time. Here come over to the computer."

I googled "one legged squat."

Now she's already got almost a full squat on each leg by using the table and couch for balance and assist.

Maybe it was the video of somebody jumping one legged up onto a 30 inch table holding dumbells and continuing into reps of single legged squats that really got her going.

She said, "Wow!!! That makes me feel great, and I was starting to feel lethargic."

"Why do you think people keep doing this stuff?"

I probably should have kept my mouth shut.

Fifty-four year old menopausal women are not supposed to find out about these things.

HUMP REPORT

1) Rudolph Napalitano

No surprise here… despite his having no idea whatsoever where the ride began, nor where the sprint ended.

As for other highlights: Crackhead Ryan won a copy of the Walsh book for winning the Hill Before Cross Road Prime, which SlingShot observed from the bottom barely a moment after the second group passed him with Crackhead apparently wrapped up tight in back.

When that second group (Lynn's) made this final pass on SlingShot, he stuck a tack in Crackhead's rear tire, glanced down to catch his breath, and by the time he looked up again Crackhead was already way off the front substantiating his significant anorexic creds.

Along with the book comes the title: King of the Bathroom Scale.

Amercian Road Cycling must apologize to Crackhead for only being able to provide a slightly used copy of the book which evidences significant salt damage on every page due to SlingShot's tears cascading over them as he read.

Another happening of note was Nuclear Dan Buckley kicking SlingShot's ass at the end of the ride which was by that point so removed from any other group on the ride, we are still reviewing if we can even call it the Hump.

That is also no surprise.

BTW: Well boys, since your little ploy with Rudolph Napalitano worked out so well to get you nothing, next time you may as well go ahead and tell him it's a race.

BTBTW: As for Rudolph Napalitano, you can stop trying to figure out where the race was, just know this: you beat out a former Empire Games Gold Medalist and a World Cup Master's Third Place Finisher in order to win it—and they knew where the finish line was!

PRE-HUMP REPORT

Slated to make an appearance at tomorrow's Hump is this guy. >>>

Today I'm taking Basement Man to work, shopping, then to find a prostitute.

Did you promise him that if he came to America you'd get him hooked up with a woman without back hair and a moustache?

I said, "Shit. Things couldn't get any worse."

Instantly Joe Straub showed up, and despite my understanding this was his very first ride after his recovery from a broken scapula, I said, "Well… I guess things just got worse. But now they surely can't get any worser."

Then Joe said, "Andreas is on his way."

At that point I stopped speculating on worse, and worser.

However, turns out it was a pretty comfortable ride, all things considered, despite the rather severe downpour which washed out of the "dry but cloudy" sky.

[Fuck the weather channel.]

At one point Joe said, "I need some truth here. Is Turtle Boy serious about joining us on the Westwood Velo team?"

Most people are aware that Joe, Andreas, and Glenn have bailed on the local pretend team in order to do some actual racing with some real riders.

Widder (who has ongoing e-mail with Turtle Boy) piped, "Well, the true truth truth is that he's just fucking with you."

And I added, "You know that he just got offered a spot on the Bicycling Magazine Master's Team, and he turned that down."

Andreas increduously asked, "Why'd he get offered that?"

"Because he's Humberto Cavalheiro, that's why! But he's not really interested in racing."

Joe says, "Why not?"

I explained, "Because he's not an idiot. That's why. He's got a wife, kids, and business resbonsibilities. He's not going to risk his health and well-being on racing."

Once you've accompanied George Hincapie to orchestrate break-away's that stuck in the NYC Pro races (way back when), I guess you can pretty much assume you've been there and done that when anybody mentions bicycle racing."

Joe said (rubbing his broken scapula), "Yeah, but if he just doesn't do EPO, he should be ok."

Said I, "Then why bother?"