Two-wheeled (and other) misadventures

No doubt I’ve earned Bike Snob NYC’s Seal of Disapproval, but I’ve acquired a fixed-gear bike, a Specialized Langster Boston. I’ve desired a fixed-gear for some time and the deal was too good to turn down.

It’s been a long time coming. Two decades or so ago, I wandered into what was then Hampton Roads’ cycling mecca - the Colley Avenue Bike Shop - looking for a road bike. For some reason I was drawn to a celeste green creation with no brakes, no derailleur and no gears. They happily planted me atop the Bianchi track bike and I wobbled down 25th Street a block and came back up 26th. It was an awkward ride, but I was intrigued. Still there was no track anywhere near Hampton Roads, it seemed unsafe for the road and highly impractical for college in Charlottesville. So I purchased a trick little Centurion with a SunTour gruppo.

The Centurion got good use. I even raced once or twice. I worked as a bike courier in D.C. in the summer of 1986. That’s another story, but even then a handful of couriers rode fixies and swore by them. Me? I liked gears especially for the climbs up Capitol Hill, Wisconsin Avenue and out of Georgetown on the bike path along I-66 at the end of the day. Still, an appreciation for fixed-gear bikes grew. Those riders were strong. Plus there was something about the bikes’ simplicity that appealed to me.

A burglar stole the Centurion in 1992 from my apartment in Charlotte, N.C., where I worked first after grad school. I didn’t really replace it until about six years ago when I bought a close-out Schwinn Fastback and rediscovered cycling when I turned 35. I’ve since bought a mountain bike, a cyclocross bike and replaced the Schwinn after the frame cracked.

Returning to cycling, I’ve discovered there are many subcultures in the wider bike culture: road racers, tourers, tandemites, triathletes and mountain bikers, which in turn has even more subcultures - racers, gravity boys, singlespeeders … the list goes on. Then there’s the urban fixie culture with young trendoids in skinny jeans riding helmetless and brakeless through cities nationwide. I’ll never eschew a helmet and can’t imagine not having at least a front brake for those emergency situations. But it reminded me of my desire to ride fixed.

Turns out that many other racers I know ride fixed too for a variety of reasons. It smoothes out your pedal stroke, improves your cadence, makes you stronger and is just plain fun. As the late Sheldon Brown put it: “The purest, simplest kind of bicycle is the fixed-gear bicycle. Riding a fixed gear will make you a stronger, smoother cyclist… and it is a lot of fun!”

Who’s to argue with a luminary like Sheldon. So I join the fixed-gear nation, a little late to the party, but loving it so far anyway.

I’ve only ridden my Langster twice to work. The bike is a little too fashion forward for my taste. I like the Boston-themed black paint with white scroll work styled from the USS Constitution, but everything else is white too - the saddle, bar grips, cable housing, rims, hubs and even the chain. It seems a little much. I need to adjust the gearing too. It’s 42×16, which is fine for cruising around, but won’t fly for training. I’m thinking a 14 rear cog. And if I do race it (which I plan to), I’ll need a 48 or larger ring up front or face being spun off the back.

But mostly I plan to just enjoy the ride, even if I’ve become yet another of Bike Snob NYC’s signs of the apocalypse.

This clip shot by Albe shows how little I had in my legs for the Snowball finish. I’m toward the front in a yellow helmet and flame jersey, but I’m sitting down in the sprint, not even standing.

Joe Younkin shot a nice video compilation of all three races. Click the link.

Been trying to think of something clever to say about my first race of the season, the Snowball training crit at the Sportsplex on Sunday, but it was just a race. I rolled out with the Cat 3/4 B-field after minimal warm-up. The pace hung in the mid-20s. I tried to go with a couple of moves, but my legs felt pretty leaden. Seemed like I was pushing too big a gear the entire time. The course is nice, if kind of narrow. The field was bit sketchy, which I guess is to be expected for the season’s first race.

With a couple of laps to go, I started moving back to the front. At some point my right contact slipped out of my eye, but it was all left turns anyway. I had to make a big effort on the back stretch of the last lap to get up to about 5th or 6th wheel. As we rounded the final turn, there was a big hesitation. I guess no one wanted to lead everyone else out. I should have hit it, but I didn’t trust my legs. Then the sprint went and when I stood up I had nothing anyway. Still I held on for eighth. Not too shabby on legs blown out from running an 8K in the storm the day before.
Virginia Beach Velo and East Coast Bicycles put on a nice race. It was great to see all my friends again. Budman Shawn slipped by me in the sprint for 6th. Firemen Josh and John were also in the race. Albe was shooting pics (including the one I stole above), while Jimmy D, Danbo, Mega Meg, McMike and Silly spectated. Jerry and Zach raced the C-race with new teammate David, who took the win with a massive attack on the penultimate lap! JB raced with me. K-Dawg, J-Law, Marc and Crazy ran with the big boys in the A-race.

It’s good to be racing again and nice to see everyone. Looks like everyone stayed fast over the winter.

Today I was dogged. Still congested, I woke to a light drizzle and drove out to the last race in Kale Running’s Mud in Your Eye series. I was standing 3rd overall, 1:04 ahead of 4th, in the 40-44 age group and hopeful of holding onto my place and beating K-Dawg in the friendly rivalry we’ve built over three previous running races.

It was not to be. The skies opened up and it even thundered as the 8K race got underway. I was soaked and cold before the race even started. Still I ran fine through two miles, rolling along at my usual sub-7 pace, but then people started passing me. I tried to follow, but it felt like a vise was wrapped around my chest and I just couldn’t turn over my legs any faster. The puddles and mud soaked my shoes and it felt like I was running in lead boots. Kevin kept getting farther away and I ran each of the remaining three miles slower and slower.

I finally dragged my freezing, wheezing self across the line in 37:33, at a miserable (for me) 7:33 pace. That’s 40 seconds per mile slower than I’ve been running. The rain and mud slowed me down somewhat, but I blame the dang head cold for how poorly I showed. My mother-in-law, a nurse, thought me a fool for even being out in that weather. And worse than losing to Kevin, I lost my 3rd place in the age group by 13 seconds. I’d beaten the guy for the first two races, but he more than made up for it today.

I guess I got double dogged.

Eleanor, despite her monumental procrastination (she gets comes by it honestly: from me), did real well in the school science fair for the second year. Her project on what’s the best method to clean up oil spills got second place from the judges. She was elated.

Here, she accepts her ribbon from her teacher.

The school had all kinds of fun activities set up for the kids during the science fair. This one was positively hair-raising!

What’s truly amazing is how much of the work she put off until the last weekend, yet how she managed to pull it all together so well. She reminds me a lot of me. It’s her second good year at the science fair too. Last year she got first place in her school and went on to win at the city level. Her school missed the city-wide deadline this year, so we’re done with this year’s project.

I think I already bought my birthday present. Way early.

The Conte’s team party for Tripower was dangerous.

I’m the idiot; Ellie is most excellent.

Despite feeling more than a little under the weather, I woke early Sunday morning, got all my stuff together, loaded the K2 with the new Fox fork atop the car and headed up to Freedom Park in Williamsburg where a bunch of folks were gathering to ride. I got all the way to the exit when I realized I forgot to pack my shoes. I blame it on medicine head (and my innate idiocy). At least I got a Trader Joe’s run in.

Someone in my family had a rocking weekend, however. Ellie had a swim meet in Hampton and scored two second places in the 50-meter freestyle and butterfly. She also cut about two seconds off her freestyle time, down to just over 37 seconds. Such results make me really proud of what a competitor she’s become. She’s often racing against girls who train four or more days a week, while she swims twice in a good week with her busy schedule.

Took out my third straight Norfolk alleycat race last night. The turnout was sad and cool at the same time. While only eight guys showed up to contest this one, two of them were my teammates Jerry and Mark, both of whom wore suits for the race.

This one was essentially a food ride. We had to visit four specific Norfolk grocery stores and buy eight specified items between them. The required spending might have kept the turnout low, but I only dropped $10 on groceries. Got to shop smart. Starting from Core behind the Naro we had to hit Bottom Dollar, Harris Teeter, the new Market downtown and the Farm Fresh in South Norfolk. I broke for that store, the farthest away first, thinking I wouldn’t want to be carrying a full load of canned goods that far. Two guys on fixies managed to stay with me through Ghent and downtown until we got to the pedestrian bridge. Gears climb so much better. I arrived at the Farm Fresh, but it was closed, so we headed back. Again they stayed with me until I went down some steps. Fixies can’t freewheel.

I hit the Market, Harris Teeter and Bottom Dollar in rapid succession , buying my eight items between those stores. At each one I was leaving as others arrived. I scooted to the Boot and finished what for me was an 8-mile race about five minutes ahead of second place. Jerry rolled in third, just moments after second. And our organizer Wes and the rest poured in moments later.

Wes took all the food and plans to donate it to Norfolk Catholic Worker’s food bank. All in all it was fun night and for a good cause, but I felt like crud and this morning I woke up with a massive head cold. Ugh. I really hate being sick.

* The phrase “cat trick” is courtesy of Kevolini LLC. Thank you.

They say every dog has his day and today was Kevin’s, by the hair of his canines.

We’ve built a terrific friendly rivalry running races since New Year’s Day when we essentially dead-heated a 5K. I took round two in the first Mud in Your Eye cross-country race at Mount Trashmore in mid-January. Today was round three and we cajoled Jerry to show up to witness the fireworks.

Kevin describes it well on his blog, but from my perspective, he started like a scalded cat, running near the front and passing through the first mile in about 6:00 flat. I meandered through in a more sensible 6:30. I expected the Dawg to come crawling back to me in the next mile or so, but he maintained a decent 50+ meter buffer. I couldn’t do anything to close it down. A little sidestitch didn’t help. Right after the three-mile mark, he opened to gap to about 100 meters and I thought I was done. But I kept my pace up, and the Dawg, who went too early, started to wilt. In the final stretch, I closed to within about 10 meters, but it was far too late. He looked over his shoulder and dug deep for the finish. Even though he beat me, he got chicked by a 12-year-old (who also held me off throughout the race). The little girl can run.

I finished the 6K four seconds back in 25:39, running a 6:53 pace and in 4th place in the 40-44 age group. I paid for not running but once in the past two weeks, I think. (It is impressive how quickly Kale Running, the event organizers, get results posted. Bike race organizers could learn a thing or two.)

Missed seeing Marco and Meaghann out there, but they had good reasons. Jerry ran real strong too. He’s another multisport threat. After the race, the three of us rolled up 33 miles riding from Bells Mill out to the PLT loop, which high winds prompted us to ride in reverse. Winds blows.

Round three is an 8K at Virginia Wesleyan on Feb. 23. Whatever happens, it will be close. That’s for sure.

Norfolk’s third alleycat race in four months will go off next Friday night at nine. This one promises to be more challenging because we’ll be tasked with buying goods at four different stores and hauling it all to finish. Hopefully I’ll get off work in time.