Category Archives: Training

The evolution of a paincave

There’s a new thread over at Zwift.community asking about people’s current training setups, so I thought I’d go back through my photostream and find some of my recent setups. My paincave has been through more iterations than I care to think about, and luckily I didn’t photograph them all, or I’d be here all day. Read on for pics and ramblings

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Racing and Riding update w/e 16 Jan 2017

So, we’ve made it to 2017 after what can only be described as Year of The Utter Shit, so where are we at?

Well, the start of the new year formed a convenient, if arbitrary watershed to try and re-establish some old, good habits. I’m now attempting to follow a structured training plan from The Sufferfest, though I’ve had to build in some very generous variations due to things like work/on-call commitments and wanting to actually ride outdoors occasionally. Nevertheless, some weight is dropping off and some watts are going on. I’ve had two “new threshold” notifications from Training Peaks in January so far, and my Smart Scale has been congratulating me occasionally. Who would have thought* swapping a quiet beer for an hour of sweat on a bike would be so effective?

Zwift.community has been launched by a good friend of mine and I’ve come on board as an early adopter and admin

In news of actually turning some pedals, I’m racing again two months earlier than expected. Thursday saw me enter a Zwift KISS Race on the spur of the moment, because that’s a thing now, and Saturday saw me racing on dirt for the first time in… ages.

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On Being Stateless in Zwift

So I joined Zwift just recently. Sure, I’m a little late to the party, but reasons.

Anyway, while signing up, Zwift allows you to select your nationality, and offers a veritable cornucopia of nations with which you can identify. For instance, you can show the world you’re from  The Faroe Islands, Kiribati or the British Virgin Islands. If you’re a pedalling priest, you can select the flag of the Holy See. Wow. So many flags.

So I went looking for my flags.

Now, I carry two flags on my bikes.For the uninitiated, the flag on the left is the bleeding eyes of Sufferlandria. Black for Suffering, White for Purity of Suffering and Red for Suffering.

I didn’t really expect the Sufferlandrian flag to be available in Zwift. It would have been a nice little easter egg bonus, but I didn’t expect it. Nevertheless I did feel a mild stab of disappointment when I couldn’t find it.

So obviously I went off hunting for my other flag – the actual flag of the actual country in which I was actually  born. Wales. A Red Dragon on a field of white and green.

This flag

article-0-0E594C4B00000578-538_468x286You know what? It’s not there.

A country of 20,779 km2 and over three million people. Just not there. A country that has its own damn wikipedia. A country with its own legislative assembly, national anthem and capital city.

But I can’t select that flag. Oh no. I can select the flag of “Neutral Zone”, whatever that is, but not Wales.

I can select the flag of The Falkland islands, a flag which actually has a sheep on it. Jesus, you’re just trolling now, aren’t you?

Zwift, you need to get your shit together. Seriously.

 

 

(Update: Apparently, Zwift use ISO 3166 and ISO places Wales under the UK. Apparently. But not The Falklands. Which is a British dependency.)
(Update 2: There’s also no Scottish flag, no Ulster flag, and no European stars. But you can select the flag of Pitcairn, a tiny island nation with fewer than 100 residents)

The Hills Are Calling

Back in April 2014, I had a crack at Everesting Garie Beach Hill in the Royal National Park. That particular attempt was aborted when my front light cut out during a fast, windy descent, which resulted in me hitting a pothole, puncturing, nearly dying of an adrenaline overdose, then calling it due to actual objective danger.

The switch assembly on the light, it transpired, had vibrated itself loose, and since I was carrying charging equipment but no actual spare light, there was no going on.

That was, as far as I know, the first attempt at an Everesting on Garie. I’d selected it for proximity to Sydney, a nice constant gradient, and a manageable number of target laps – 44. It really is – aside from the rough surface – an ideal Everesting hill.

In September 2014, Pat Dellagiagiacoma and Paul Karis completed the first everesting of Garie as a pair, a fine effort and worth some applause.

Now, in September 2016, the 8848 Royal National Park event will see a mass participation Everesting attempt on this hill in aid of The Cancer Council. This is a fantastic cause to ride for, and since it’s a supported event you won’t run into the problems I (and others) have run into. There’ll be mechanics, medics, food, drinks, support and other riders on your shoulder all the way. The road will be closed, so you won’t have to deal with any traffic. You don’t even have to do the 8848 solo, since there’s a team option. You should totally do it, if you can scrape together the entry fee. Do it.

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Race recap: Tour of Sufferlandria, Stages 6-9

The last post left us at the middle of the tour, after the first mountain stage, and looking ahead to four more days including both the queen stage and a big final run into the finish.

Stage six: Local Hero saw the peloton turned ragged by the cruel pyramid intervals, and several riders were caught out by forgetting that this one isn’t just an hour of effort, but an hour and twenty-five minutes of threshold work designed to put them into the redzone and deny them an easy exit. A pyramid starts out at an RPE of 7/10, or just below power threshold. In my case, working with a slightly overloaded FTP of 250, that meant holding 240+W for interval one. Interval two, a minute at threshold, is at least 250W for one minute, after which you spend two minutes at 8.0 – above threshold, which is harsh. But when the two minutes are up, you can’t just shift and recover. Because you need to hold threshold for another minute, then sub-threshold again for a last painful minute.

The pyramids hurt. I am not kidding. And after that there’s race simulation and a series of sprints. This stage was a test for the entire peloton, and there were three more stages to go.

Next day, at first glance, seemed like an opportunity to recover a little, with The Rookie. But things are never that easy in Sufferlandria, especially when Sir Neal Henderson has been involved in the choice of parcours. What awaited us was a set of three 10-minute race simulations garnished with the kind of on-bike footage that gets you trapped in the action and forgetting how much power you’re putting down. I, for one, was left gasping, and dreading Stage Eight, The Queen Stage

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Serious face on for Stage Eight

Stage Eight was the Dame Alissa Schubert Memorial Stage, a terrifying two-hours and twenty-five minutes of sprints. The community wore a black stripe on their social media avatars in memory of Dame Alissa, and the Knights wore their official team kits. I broke out my race-cut Darkside kit. Having put on a few kilograms after a bunch of crashes and injuries last year, I’d been slightly dreading getting back into race-cut, but to my surprise, it worked out not too badly. I slapped on my serious face and got down to action.

Video one of Stage Eight, Revolver. Straight up, no messing, fifteen one-minute intervals interpersed with fifteen one-minute rests, a workout designed to burn you down as quickly and as simply as possible. This is followed with Violator, a never-ending series of short, high-intensity sprints, which is topped off with a dressing of Half is Easy, yet another bottomless pit of on-off-on-off power intervals.

This, dear friends, is a special kind of hell.

We all knew it would be the queen stage. I for one didn’t realise quite how horrifying it would turn out to be.

I held over the stage until Sunday, since Saturday was my brother-in-law’s 50th birthday and Jack Bobridge’s Hour Record attempt. Which meant on Sunday I felt a little… hungover.

Oh. The. Pain.

By the end of Revolver I was already thinking I’d gone too deep. By the middle of Violator, I knew I’d gone too deep. close to the end of Violator, I had a dizzy spell and a micro-blackout and found myself almost crashing the bike. Let me just re-iterate that. I nearly. Crashed. A turbo trainer.

As the recovery interval arrived I wolfed down an entire pack of jelly snakes, a gel and a whole bottle of electrolyte, and called out to the minions for more.

By the time Half is Easy was properly underway, I was mentally back together, and starting to come back into shape physically, which was just as well, because I spent the last video spitting and cursing, sweat pouring off in waves, feet and hands aching, legs turning to mush and shoulders in spasm. Physically, it was harder than anything on my Knighthood, either of my Everesting attempts, and any race I’ve ever struggled through.

The sawtooth profile of the power trace speaks volumes for the severity of this stage. Oh god, never again.

Well, maybe.

It did feel pretty good afterwards.

And so Monday rolled around, and my alarm fired at 5am, in time for me to do Stage Nine before work. My weary legs, however, wouldn’t let me out of bed.

So I went to work like a normal monday. And when I arrived, I set one of my laptop’s auxiliary clocks to the International date line. This gave me a hard cut off time for the end of Stage Nine, which turned out to be quite late that evening, thanks to timezone weirdness.

So I left the office as normal, headed home, and put my weary legs over the top tube for the last time in this tour.

It Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time tells the tale of an intrepid Sufferlandrian unleashed in pursuit of the Giro d’Italia’s combativity prize. It’s tough, you’d better believe it, and it’s long at two hours. And coming at the end of nine stages, it was all I could do to keep up. But keep up I did, and I finished, sweaty and victorious, after the world’s hardest stage race of a fictional country.

My citizenship of the great nation of Sufferlandria was assured.

And I was tired

Damn it, I was tired.

I can’t wait until next year.

 

 

Race recap: Tour of Sufferlandria, Stages 1-5

Yes, it’s the greatest grand tour of a mythical country on earth, the Tour of Sufferlandria. As a Knight of Sufferlandria, my participation is compulsory – noblesse oblige.

A huge, feisty peloton lined up for the start of Stage one on Saturday, taking in Elements of Style and The Long Scream, race director Grunter von Agony wishing to have a well-turned out and stylish race. Which he could then rip to ragged shreds in the ensuing 30 minutes.

Elements is a goodie – I reviewed it here – but does have a habit of taking your mind off your effort level as you concentrate on your form. It’s easy to go into the red by mistake, but today everything -just -went to plan. And then the last half-hour hove into view.

Between you and I, I’d never completed the Long Scream until this stage. It’s deceptive, being “only” an extra shot video of 35 minutes duration. However a solid thirty of those minutes are spent at or around Threshold. Until this stage, every time I’d switch it on, I’d go out of the start gate way too hard and end up cracked and dying by the last third. But these days I run a power meter and keep close track of my FTP, so for the stage I was able to dose my efforts with unprecedented accuracy, holding FTP, dipping below or rising above as the video demanded. A look of relief crossed my ashen face as I finally got my PhD in suffering. At last.

Day one done. I was feeling nicely toasted after this stage, Sufferlandrian holy water running forth untrammeled. And yea, verily did the race reports roll in on the ToS Facebook Group. Sufferlandrians all over the globe were checking in with their experiences. And there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth. Also beer.

My start time on Stage Two, Blender, was held over to Monday after an aborted start on Sunday- entirely within the rules I might add. One tiny false start on Monday for a forgotten towel and we were off. Monday was Australia Day, a public holiday. What better time to sit on a turbo trainer in your own house in front of two fans and a laptop while outside all is stifling heat, blind patriotism, drunkenness and boganry? Blender is one of my favourite videos, taking in as it does MTB, mens and women’s road racing, time trialling, cyclocross and even downhill MTB. But at 1h40m it’s a long ride in the heat and the Aussie peloton was in sore need of rehydration afterwards. But no beer yet, because a few hours later… Stage Three: Fight Club

This one’s a scrappy affair, attacks coming thick and fast, breaks needing to be shut down and an overall effort level somewhere far north of sensible. But again, Determination pays dividends, as does the knowledge that when this is done, beer may be had. And so it came to pass. The breaks were shut down, the legs were turned to jelly and the beer was cracked.

Happy Australia Day

Tuesday. Back to work and the restricted free time of the weekday grind. I still kept a window open for Nine Hammers, the latest offering from Sufferfest Studios and one with a fearsome reputation. Featuring nine big efforts at – and above – threshold, This video is an FTP stretcher if ever there was one, and one where I’d again be relying heavily on the power meter – though the numbers flashing by didn’t stop me being tempted to add a few percent  here and there. I was left feeling exhausted, but with a sense of achievement.

And so we came to Wednesday. The first day in the high mountains, where we’d go to meet the Angels.

There was crazy talk among the group about maybe doubling up on the two editions of Angels, but as it transpired I was badly pressed for time and opted instead to go all-out on the original, longer version. My legs were a little sore, but Angels is at once an old friend and an ancient nemesis. I knew where the attacks would be made, and was able to counter each and every one, even if it was through a mask of pain.

Here’s how it looked from the Suffercam, deteriorating form and all.

And so here we sit, Five days into a nine-day tour, with all to play for and the Queen Stage yet to come, and with a huge sting in the tail to follow that. Who will make it to the finish of ISLAGIATT on the hallowed slopes of Mount Sufferlandria? Who will be punted out the back into the autobus to be swept up by the minions and who will double down for Honour, Glory and Victory come Sunday?

Tune in to find out. Oh, and if you could throw some money at the Davis Phinney Foundation, that would be excellent too.

 

Park Bikes Training Camp Day Three: Bowral to Sydney

Day three began with some tired bodies and interesting tan lines (tip: POC helmets let a surprising amount of sunlight in). Everyone had opted for the full ride back to Sydney, even though an option of a short ride followed by a train trip was offered. Today’s menu started out with a fast ride down the Hume Highway from Bowral to Picton, then a main course of Razorback, followed by a dessert course of rolling highway back into Sydney.

The first 40 kilometres were knocked over in under an hour. The terrain is mostly flat but with frequent downhill sections, which got everyone warmed up very nicely. The pace, and spirits, were high. Before too long we were off the highway and heading for Picton, at the foot of the Razorback climb.

It’s a short climb and not in the same league as the two previous days, but some of the bunch – me included – were sagging. We regrouped at the top, and took the left turn towards the Old Razorback road. We would only be descending this one today, but it’s a climb I’ll definitely be going back to do in the near future.

The descent is a little rough, quite winding but fast. My Fly6 tail camera captured some nice video on the way

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Park Bikes Training Camp Day Two: Kangaroo Valley

IMG_0664Day two and there were plenty of tired bodies at the breakfast table. Start was delayed somewhat by heavy fog, so extra calories were taken on board and even more coffee put away. Meanwhile down in the bike room, the support crew were doing a sterling job on the maintenance side, making sure everyone’s gears were running smoothly, checking over tyres for leaks and swapping out a couple of cassettes for riders who’d overgeared a little. I really can’t speak highly enough of the support squad and the great job they did.

Soon the fog cleared and the bunch rolled out into Bowral town centre and off towards Fitzroy Falls. The terrain was rolling and soon we’d broken into two bunches, with me in the back group. Cresting a hill I saw the support car ahead with the front group and decided to bridge the gap and wake up my tired legs, which I’ll admit were feeling less than stellar.

Regrouping at Fitzroy Falls, we were treated to a clinic on descending technique, since the meat of the day was coming up – Barrengarry descent and the climb back out of the valley, on slightly damp roads.

My cornering confidence has been a little low since spilling at Olympic Park and cracking my rib, so my preparation was pretty much all mental. Remember the fundamentals – brake in a straight line and in plenty of time. Look through the corner. Weight on the outside foot and the inside hand, balanced through the centre of the bike. Don’t target fixate on the hazards. Relax. Continue Reading →

Park Bikes Training Camp Day One : Sydney to Bowral via Macquarie Pass

As you probably know, I’ve been whinging about my lack of riding recently. Injuries, life and general lack of Rule Five adherence have meant Summer 2014/15 has been poor. Poor to the point that my tan lines haven’t even arrived. In December.

So to get things kickstarted, I signed up for a little training camp run by our friends over at Park Bikes and Domestique.

The plan:

Day one, ride Sydney to Bowral via Macquarie Pass.

Day two, ride Bowral to Kangaroo Valley and return, with potential for extra distance if wanted

Day three, two home options, one all the way via Razorback, one with a train component

Lovely.

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A Knight’s Tale

I turned 40 last week. I am now officially a MAMIL. To mark this milestone, I decided I wanted to do something big on the bike.

Everesting was my first choice. I’ve had two unsuccessful attempts before – both ending prematurely due to equipment failure – and the desire to finally get it done has been burning a hole in my head. So on Oct 24th I headed out bright and early towards Glenbrook Gorge in the Blue Mountains National Park, and the 11% 700m Glenbrook Gorge North Climb.

Successfully everesting this climb would take 107 repeats over maybe thirteen hours. I had a van full of water bottles and food, a few changes of kit and plenty of spares. I’d even gone and bought a new pair of Zipp 60 Carbon wheels just in case my trusty but slightly troublesome Zipp 30s gave up the ghost.

I was, you may say, prepared.

However the weather wasn’t exactly co-operating. Driving towards the mountains on the M4, the lower slopes of the plateau were lit up by lightning strikes, and I had an uneasy feeling. Sure, the outlook for the latter part of the day was pretty good, but there was more rain forecast mid-morning, and the sky was looking very much unsettled.

Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained. I parked up, got my wind vest on, prepped the bike and set out for a few exploratory repeats.

Which is where the plan started to unravel.

The descent into the gorge was wet and slippery. Worse, it had an oily sheen on the surface, so the descent very nervous indeed. I puzzled over this for a moment and came to the conclusion that runoff from the surrounding eucalypts must have been to blame for the oiliness. Riding up on the first lap was a bit of a strain but bearable, but the second descent was no less nervous than the first. The climb, at least, felt more comfortable than the first. I still wanted this to happen but with a cracked rib still an occasionally- painful reminder of a crash in late September, I wasn’t entirely enthusiastic. One more repeat and I was convinced – without the ability to go downhill fast I’d be losing valuable time, and worse, I’d be risking an injury on every single descent until dry road emerged sometime in the late morning. I don’t mind riding in the rain usually, but spending my 40th birthday waiting for x-rays would definitely wreck things. To compound the feeling of dread, the rain restarted, and thunder rumbled.

So I finished the lap, headed for the safety of my van and came up with an alternative plan.

The torture chamber

The torture chamber

I would go home, stick the bike on the turbo trainer and go for Sufferlandrian Knighthood. Ten Sufferfests, back to back, with only ten minutes rest between each.

Yes, that would do it. At home, in the dry, with a fridge full of Belgian beer nearby. Knighthood had been hovering on my horizon for a while. Time to get it done.

So I cued up ten of the best, threw a coffee down my neck and got started. Continue Reading →