So it's been an awfully long time since I posted anything. Nothing terribly exciting has been happening in Mike's World of Cycling lately, other than lots of training (and let's be honest, how exciting are base miles, really?), and falling off the training schedule due to various side trips. As I write this, I'm sitting in the Windy City visiting with family for Thanksgiving. I am, of course, bike-less, so there's three days down the tubes.
In October I rolled down to the Grand Canyon with a crew of folks I met in the Chicago Basin last year and had a Grand time. Another five days gone, though I can write off a lot of that to cross-training.
And at the end of September I traveled up to Sequoia/Kings Canyon National Park for a few days of backpacking and had an absolute blast. Sequoia is, hands down, the most spectacular place I've ever seen. I cannot wait to go back, to drink in the fantastic scenery and clean mountain air again.
On second thought, I guess there have been some interesting developments in my cycling career. As I already noted in my previous post I am now a Cat IV road cyclist. In addition, I have a new team. I will be racing for Liquid Fitness Cycling this year on their Cat IV/V squad. I'll have new photos and sponsor links up as soon as I have them, hopefully towards the end of this week.
I will also be bidding fairwell to Beatrix, my faithful, if short-lived, road bike (so if anyone you know wants a 58cm Cervelo Soloist, drop me a line). She's just too long and my pelvic angle is all wrong when I'm on top of her. Yeah, all you followers of Freud can have a field day with that. Instead, I'll be running a Specialized Roubaix Pro, with a SRAM Red build. The added head tube and shortened top tube are, according to several fitters at the LBS, exactly what my freakishly long femurs need. Looking forward to that, though not to re-learning how to shift. As in keeping with custom, I shall take suggestions for a name. Only requirements are that it be female, and you be able to tell me why I should name my bike whatever it is you suggest.
That's all on the Western Front for now. May everyone have a happy Thanksgiving, and a festive and joyous holiday-of-choice. Until next time, keep the rubber side down.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Friday, October 17, 2008
Motivation
Just in case I needed motivation to train this off-season:
The following request to change your USCF category has been approved and by USAC:
Member: Michael Nies
License: Road Racer
Request to change category from Cat 5 to Cat 4
The following request to change your USCF category has been approved and by USAC:
Member: Michael Nies
License: Road Racer
Request to change category from Cat 5 to Cat 4
Friday, October 10, 2008
Saturday, October 4, 2008
We Don't Need No Water
This week I flew back to Ohio briefly. Unfortunately, Ohio requires your physical presence to renew a driver's license, and mine was set to expire on October 19th of this year. I took a redeye flight from LAX into Cleveland, then took a commuter flight to Dayton. It wasn't a bad trip, but I was a little fried when I got into Hopkins. So I grabbed the biggest, most potent coffee the Phoenix stand in C Terminal had to offer, and a Plain Dealer; comics are an important part of de-stressing when you've just spent the last five hours being elbowed by a smelly, obese, insomniac.
And it was then that I got the best news I've received in at least the last three years.
The headline for the day was, of course, something about the bailout. Or maybe it was the Palin/Biden debate scheduled for that night. Either way, that wasn't what got my attention.
What got my attention were the seven smiling children just above the fold.
I had seen those faces before.
All of them had been in the paper three years earlier.
On May 21, 2005, I was working in an Emergency Department in Cleveland. My shift ended at 3:00 AM, and I was getting ready to leave when we got word that seven ambulances were headed our way with critical patients, five of them receiving CPR at the time. We were already short-staffed that night, like most nights, so I stayed to help. The first ambulance arrived a short time later, carrying a teenage boy. As soon as the doors opened, we knew what had caused his cardiac arrest. The smell of smoke hit us even before we saw his half-burned clothes lying under him on the gurney, where the paramedics had cut them off his thin, wiry body to start IV lines and determine his injuries. He was rolled into the room where I was waiting, along with two nurses and several ED doctors. We tried to resuscitate him, but every time his pulse returned it faded quickly thereafter. After several tries, we had to give up in order to focus on the other victims coming in.
That was the story with all but one of the people who came in from the fire that night. She survived to head up to the burn unit for three weeks, and is still alive today. The ED staff found out before the end of the night that the house which burned had been hosting a sleepover that night. The teenager I had helped try to save was the guest of honor; he had been only three hours into his birthday when the fire started. By the next day the fire had been ruled first "suspicious" by the investigators, and "arson" shortly thereafter. Whoever set the fire poured gasoline around the doors before lighting the blaze. Even with working smoke detectors in the house, no one had any warning. All the victims were likely dead from smoke inhalation even before the flames reached their sleeping bodies. The only consolation there was that they likely felt no pain before they died.
The investigation stalled after the fire. The PD didn't report any more breakthroughs, and I stopped wondering if the arsonist would ever be caught. Until I picked up the Plain Dealer for Thursday, October 2, 2008 and found this story. The only thought that ran through my head until my flight landed in Dayton was "Holy s***, they got the motherf***er." It was a good flight.
And it was then that I got the best news I've received in at least the last three years.
The headline for the day was, of course, something about the bailout. Or maybe it was the Palin/Biden debate scheduled for that night. Either way, that wasn't what got my attention.
What got my attention were the seven smiling children just above the fold.
I had seen those faces before.
All of them had been in the paper three years earlier.
On May 21, 2005, I was working in an Emergency Department in Cleveland. My shift ended at 3:00 AM, and I was getting ready to leave when we got word that seven ambulances were headed our way with critical patients, five of them receiving CPR at the time. We were already short-staffed that night, like most nights, so I stayed to help. The first ambulance arrived a short time later, carrying a teenage boy. As soon as the doors opened, we knew what had caused his cardiac arrest. The smell of smoke hit us even before we saw his half-burned clothes lying under him on the gurney, where the paramedics had cut them off his thin, wiry body to start IV lines and determine his injuries. He was rolled into the room where I was waiting, along with two nurses and several ED doctors. We tried to resuscitate him, but every time his pulse returned it faded quickly thereafter. After several tries, we had to give up in order to focus on the other victims coming in.
That was the story with all but one of the people who came in from the fire that night. She survived to head up to the burn unit for three weeks, and is still alive today. The ED staff found out before the end of the night that the house which burned had been hosting a sleepover that night. The teenager I had helped try to save was the guest of honor; he had been only three hours into his birthday when the fire started. By the next day the fire had been ruled first "suspicious" by the investigators, and "arson" shortly thereafter. Whoever set the fire poured gasoline around the doors before lighting the blaze. Even with working smoke detectors in the house, no one had any warning. All the victims were likely dead from smoke inhalation even before the flames reached their sleeping bodies. The only consolation there was that they likely felt no pain before they died.
The investigation stalled after the fire. The PD didn't report any more breakthroughs, and I stopped wondering if the arsonist would ever be caught. Until I picked up the Plain Dealer for Thursday, October 2, 2008 and found this story. The only thought that ran through my head until my flight landed in Dayton was "Holy s***, they got the motherf***er." It was a good flight.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
His Actions Are Graceful, All the Girls He Does Please
My sister Sara came out to LA for a visit a couple weeks ago, and on a trip down to the Santa Monica Pier we noticed a flying trapeze school there. So we signed up. Let me assure you that, after the shear, gut-wrenching terror of the first flight, it's awesomely fun and quite easy. Observe the following:
The first thing they teach you is how to get yourself from hanging by your hands, to hanging by the knees, then back to your hands. After you've done that once they add a backflip dismount, which is what my sister capably demonstrates above (while I demonstrate shaky camera work).
Once you get really good at that move they prepare to have someone catch you from the other trapeze. Of course that person has to get up there first...
After Dean got himself up there, if was time to be plucked from thin air by a complete stranger. Again, Sara demonstrates below.
Alas, there are no shots of me on the trapeze, since Sara was too busy staring in awe at my perfect form (or possibly the muscles on all the trapeze staff) to be bothered with the camera. Guess I'll just have to go back and try it again...
The first thing they teach you is how to get yourself from hanging by your hands, to hanging by the knees, then back to your hands. After you've done that once they add a backflip dismount, which is what my sister capably demonstrates above (while I demonstrate shaky camera work).
Once you get really good at that move they prepare to have someone catch you from the other trapeze. Of course that person has to get up there first...
After Dean got himself up there, if was time to be plucked from thin air by a complete stranger. Again, Sara demonstrates below.
Alas, there are no shots of me on the trapeze, since Sara was too busy staring in awe at my perfect form (or possibly the muscles on all the trapeze staff) to be bothered with the camera. Guess I'll just have to go back and try it again...
Sunday, August 10, 2008
2008 US Elite National Championship Time Trial
While at the time trial for the Summer Solstice Stage Race, I overheard another racer say "Time trialling is about pain: if it feels good you're not going hard enough."
Whoever designed this TT course was of that school. There was climbing. And then descending. And then more climbing. All in the sun. All in dry, California heat. Needless to say, it was hard. Really hard.
My performance was rather disappointing. With a time of 0:59:17, I managed a DFL almost 15 minutes behind the winner. No PM sitings at the TT; guess he's saving his legs for Sunday's road race. TIBCO's Ms. Miller was also saving her legs, and that paid off.
Beatrix is still not quite tuned in how I would like, so I'll be sending some photos to Sean and Mike V. at Bike Authority as soon as I can track down a tripod so they can help me work through the fit.
Oh, and I did manage to get a few pictures. They're posted at my Picasa site.
Perhaps I'll have a better time next year. That's all for now, folks!
Whoever designed this TT course was of that school. There was climbing. And then descending. And then more climbing. All in the sun. All in dry, California heat. Needless to say, it was hard. Really hard.
My performance was rather disappointing. With a time of 0:59:17, I managed a DFL almost 15 minutes behind the winner. No PM sitings at the TT; guess he's saving his legs for Sunday's road race. TIBCO's Ms. Miller was also saving her legs, and that paid off.
Beatrix is still not quite tuned in how I would like, so I'll be sending some photos to Sean and Mike V. at Bike Authority as soon as I can track down a tripod so they can help me work through the fit.
Oh, and I did manage to get a few pictures. They're posted at my Picasa site.
Perhaps I'll have a better time next year. That's all for now, folks!
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Butterflies
The start time list was posted for Wednesday's time trial, and it turns out I'm not the only Clevelander who will be throwing down in Anaheim. From Texas Roadhouse, Paul Martin managed to snag bib number one, starting next to last of the Elite Men at 9:35. He's signed up for the road race, too; knowing that, I might be heading down to watch over the weekend. Our hometown hero Brooke Miller of Team TIBCO, made famous by Snakebite's own JimmyNick, starts at 9:49. Your's truly starts at 9:26, nine minutes ahead of PM, and twenty-three minutes forward of Brooke.
Today got me thinking about my goals for this race. I'm not well prepared, and my overall fitness level has certainly dropped since the Summer Solstice Stage Race in June. At the same time, I have far superior equipment to my last time trial. With that in mind, my goals for Wednesday are as follows:
3.) Finish in under 48 minutes.
Fifty minutes for a 33km course works out to 25.63 mph. This would be a moderate improvement over my last two time trials (22.89 mph and 24 mph, respectively). Of course, neither of them were nearly this long, but Paul Martin wasn't chomping at my heels either.
2.) Don't break myself.
Some would argue that this should be priority one. I argue that while I can heal for free, the bike cannot.
1.) Don't break the bike.
While Beatrix and I are new to each other, I like her a lot and I don't want her to run away just yet. Of course if she doesn't behave, David Miller might be onto something...
0.) Ride my race, not someone else's, and represent my team with honor alongisde my fellow cyclists.
My high school cross country coach always said "Run your race, not someone else's." I have no illusions about the caliber of riders I'm up against. I'm going to get passed. I can't hold a pro-level time trial pace for more than a few hundred yards. I'm going so I can pour every watt my legs can generate into the pedals for 33 km of beautiful California roads, while surrounded by some of the best cyclists in the country. I'm going to get a benchmark, get some exposure, and meet some SoCal teams. I'm going because for me, showing up is half the fun. And hanging out with a bunch of other cyclists, surrounded by bike porn, watching people turn in blistering time trials, is plenty of fun indeed.
Today got me thinking about my goals for this race. I'm not well prepared, and my overall fitness level has certainly dropped since the Summer Solstice Stage Race in June. At the same time, I have far superior equipment to my last time trial. With that in mind, my goals for Wednesday are as follows:
3.) Finish in under 48 minutes.
Fifty minutes for a 33km course works out to 25.63 mph. This would be a moderate improvement over my last two time trials (22.89 mph and 24 mph, respectively). Of course, neither of them were nearly this long, but Paul Martin wasn't chomping at my heels either.
2.) Don't break myself.
Some would argue that this should be priority one. I argue that while I can heal for free, the bike cannot.
1.) Don't break the bike.
While Beatrix and I are new to each other, I like her a lot and I don't want her to run away just yet. Of course if she doesn't behave, David Miller might be onto something...
0.) Ride my race, not someone else's, and represent my team with honor alongisde my fellow cyclists.
My high school cross country coach always said "Run your race, not someone else's." I have no illusions about the caliber of riders I'm up against. I'm going to get passed. I can't hold a pro-level time trial pace for more than a few hundred yards. I'm going so I can pour every watt my legs can generate into the pedals for 33 km of beautiful California roads, while surrounded by some of the best cyclists in the country. I'm going to get a benchmark, get some exposure, and meet some SoCal teams. I'm going because for me, showing up is half the fun. And hanging out with a bunch of other cyclists, surrounded by bike porn, watching people turn in blistering time trials, is plenty of fun indeed.
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