Part 2 of the sporadically updated Schlub series. 

I can’t touch my toes yet. I’m better than I was three weeks ago, when last we measured. Then, I was eight inches away. The name of the particular stretch escapes me, but it’s the one where you stand, cross one leg in front of the other, and then reach down as far as you can with your back leg locked. Anyway, after four weeks of almost daily (and sometimes twice daily) stretching, I can see marked improvement in my flexibility which increases my range of motion and reduces the risk of injury. 

The month has continued to be about flexibility, stability with some riding thrown in. My master has stressed that I can ride whenever I want, but doesn’t want me to go above heart rate zone 3. Fine, I said, let’s determine what that is then. Turns out that doing so invites debate as to what system you are using to define the ranges (there are at least two) and how best to determine my particular zones. What is max heart rate? What’s threshold? How do I know? It took a bit of education, but really, this is what the trainer is for:  just do what he tells you to do. You are paying him to help you – not debate the finer points. Let him help you. 

So, with my maximum heart rate determined (180), I set out to focus on another area of emphasis:  saddle time. This I think has to do with three things:  getting used to long rides both psychologically and physically, improving my heart, and dropping the weight. That last is best done in zone three because of the kind of energy you burn. I will not profess to be an expert (I suspect Gottfried knows far more about this than I), but I comprehended it enough to buy into it. I’ve lost weight in the past – now it’s time to do it the right way:  in zone three. 

I discovered three things about this approach. First, I can use it to motivate me to consistently longer rides; my new personal road record is 41 miles. Second, zone three is boring. Ponderously boring. And third, trying to maintain in zone three on a mountain bike trail is difficult both physically and emotionally. On a trail, I want to go fast – well, Dane-fast, anyway – and it’s hard not to hammer it. 

I rode Medina last week for the first time in too long. Actually wondered how bad I was going to suck given my time away from dirt. But man it felt good. It reminded me why I was doing all this. Five minutes in and my trainer’s admonishes were but a mere whisper in the wind. I was going Dane-fast and, what’s more, feeling better and more competent than I’d ever had. The road work, the stretching, and the professional bike fit from Century were all making a clear difference. 

When I’d completed, I’d set a new personal Medina trails record, and thanks to the bike fit my quads weren’t wasted (hint:  raise your damn seat and leverage your hams and glutes). So far, the approach is paying off. Total time in zone three? Less than fifteen percent.

My trainer’s reaction? “I wanted you to stay in zone three.” Hmpf. Some people.

I have spent four years mountain biking, when the Ohio weather, my travel schedule, and my emotional state will allow. I’ve seen substantial improvement in bike handling (for instance, I no longer try to amputate my leg at the shin with my pedals). I’ve also seen some improvement in lap times at my favorite trails. But the fact is, after four years, four impressive mountain bikes, one “performance” hybrid, and one high-end road bike, the amount of return does not begin to compare to the investment. 

Now, I’ve known for some time that I am not worthy of my bikes. I wasn’t worthy of the Yeti 575, or the Intense Spider 29er, or the Yeti SB-95. I’ve known that no matter how light and well-built the bike, the ride isn’t going to matter if the person mounting it is an overweight, underconditioned schlub. And I’m a schlub.

After my latest fit of spending - a Giant Defy road bike, I finally said “enough.” I grew tired of paying top dollar for bikes because I’m fortunate enough to be able to, only to not be in the best physical condition I can be to actually leverage the engineering behind the bike. So, I approached a friend for help. He also happens to be a USAC cycling coach, and has some idea of how to get fit, and he is willing to work with me. I guess I have a cycling coach now.

When it suits me, I’ll be providing an update on my progress, starting with this post. There have thus far been two areas of emphasis. The first has been on defining my goals. What do I want to accomplish, and when do I want to have it accomplished? First, I want to reduce my weight to the upper half of my “healthy” BMI; in this case that’s around 177. I am currently a svelte 231.4. Second, I want to increase my upper body strength in a way that benefits my mountain biking. Finally, I want to improve my bike handling skills such that I will be able to change my racing strategy, handle more technicals, and do so more efficiently. When? By the first race of next year.

The second area of emphasis has been, surprisingly, not on making me work out until I throw up. I’m sure that will come, of course, and I will embrace it. Instead the focus is on flexibility  and stability geared specifically for cyclists. The reason for starting there according to my trainer is that it does no good to work out like mad only to injure yourself, and making myself more limber will help reduce that risk. We spent an hour on that this morning. My  initial observation is that stretching can be every bit as painful as clipping a tree on the trail. But I get it, and I’m committed.

My trainer tells me that committing to the program is the hardest step, and that I’ve already taken it. He also tells me that the next steps will be shorter, and much more painful.

Can’t wait.