The hibernation has ended

I never stopped loving bicycles. I just lost, temporarily, the motivation to write about them. And for that matter, to ride them. More on those things later.

The good news, particularly for me, is that I'm back on the bike and with a specific focus. Over the weekend a friend of mine sent me a pdf of The Reoch-Zonneveld Indoor Winter Workout Program. It's 50 one-hour trainer sessions meant to get racers through the winter. The sessions are progressively more difficult. Since I learned of this document — from this same friend, as a matter of fact — I have been fascinated by it and striven mightily to obtain a hard copy of it. Amazon, eBay, zip. A grand total of 23 hits on Google. So my friend might as well have been sending me cycling's Gutenberg Bible (219,000 Google hits; 21 copies extant). Obviously, I would love to have my own copy but it appears to be as rare as, well, a Gutenberg.

What I'm going to do with Reoch-Zonneveld is ride myself back into shape. I'll probably take a day or two off each week. But for each day I do ride, I'll provide, at the very least, my end-of-ride weight, my peak heart rate during the ride and the music I listened to during the ride. My guess is that by the time I've done all 50 I'll be about 10 pounds lighter and my peak heart rate will be lower. If the stars align, I'll time trial again shortly after I've completed this program. While I'm explaining all that, I'm also going to do some catching up on other topics.

Today, for instance, I weighed 153.4 pounds. I didn't consider heart rate until I was on the bike, so that'll wait until tomorrow. I ended with a decent sweat but wasn't winded. Today's music: Janis Joplin, "Dear Landlord"; Old Crow Medicine Show, "Fall on My Knees"; Hank Williams, "Dear John"; The Brian Setzer Orchestra, "Jumpin' East of Java"; Steve Miller Band, " Rock 'N Me"; Otis Redding, " Cigarettes and Coffee"; African Music Machine, "AM-FM"; Rusty Bryant, "Lou Lou." I cut the music early because the scientist came home and I wanted to be able to hear what she had to say.

Anyway, if you've read this far, thanks. I'll try to make it worth your while to continue.

Spills and thrills

Versus has an ad for the Tour de France targeting a low-road demographic. "Next time you're in your car," an English-speaking rider intones, "at 50 mph, strip down to your underwear and jump out the door — and that's what it's like to crash in a professional bike race."

[Update 7:20 a.m. July 14: I have since learned that the intoning voice belongs to Jonathan Vaughters, directeur sportif for Garmin Chipotle.]

This afternoon I performed the extremely slow-speed equivalent. At this left turn, which I've made dozens if not hundreds of times, my back wheel slid out and I bit pavement. So what if I was going 1/10 as fast as the rider referred to in the ad. My road rash is still impressive even if it's not uncomfortable and my kit was appropriately underwear like. My right foot popped out immediately and my left came out with little effort. Only one water bottle came out that I was able to quickly grab and run to the curb. Evans Road is not heavily trafficked so I was not at risk of having any body or bike parts crushed.

The frame, tires and wheels appear to be fine. Road conditions were great. I wasn't on paint (Phil Liggett warned about that during Saturday's rain-soaked stage), the weather was dry, dry, dry and the surface on this recently repaved road is practically virginal. The intersection is near the more or less flat top of a long hill and I had slowed considerably to let a car pass before I turned. The only thing I can think of is that I dropped too far left for the turn at too slow a speed.

Suckin' wheels

I did the 100K Firecracker Ride this morning in about 3 1/2 hours, thanks to the people in front of me. As I rode I saw a few other folks I know but no groups I'd ever ridden with. So I'd catch the end of a paceline, let them tow me along in their draft and then move forward to another group when the line came apart. This is a very rude way to ride, but I did it anyway. Some of the pulls I got were incredible and I would've been happy to reciprocate but I was only allowed the front a couple of times. Anyway, when I got home I was comparatively fresh as a daisy. Lesson? If a solo stranger can catch your line, let the stranger pull when his or her turn comes.

Just like in the movies

I may live in a Bicycle Friendly Community but it may also be a cycling culture backwater. The Triangle is more than 500 miles from the closest venue for the Bicycle Film Festival. Full programs have been announced for New York, Toronto and Minneapolis. Two historical films, "Road to Roubaix" and "The Six-Day Bicycle Races" and lots of the shorts look real interesting. Fortunately for rustics such as myself, both of those features are available on DVD. It's not just racing documentaries. There are also classics such as "Breaking Away" and what appear to be nice bits of nonracing movies and advocacy. In short, something for everybody — as long as you're there. Thanks to Savant Guardian, who lives close enough to go, for the tip.

Impending disappointment of Olympic proportion?

This post may be premature as the Olympics are still six weeks away. The word now is that NBC will put the squeeze on online content from the games to keep people glued to their televisions. What concerns me is that, even with DVR, I won't be able to get wall-to-wall cycling. NBCOlympics.com and the official Olympics site appear to be intensely uninformative about what will be broadcast. Perhaps my anxiety will be for naught but I am waiting to be convinced. If you've got better information about anything from keirin to the road race, please share.

On the road again

Of the 400-plus miles I've pedaled this month, the overwhelming majority have been cranked out in the privacy of the garage on the trainer. So today was something of a novelty as I was illuminated by sunshine, buffeted by wind, restrained by road resistance and humbled by hills. In other words, it was a real, normal ride. But enough has changed that I could tell it had been a while since I'd been out. Some roads have been repaved. Tobacco is maturing. The blazes for next Friday's Firecracker Ride are already down. That reminded me to practice signalling in case some group lets me catch a wheel — and to hope I catch a wheel to make some of the more inclined sections more tolerable.

Rained out

As prepared as I was for the time trial, it was no surprise that I arrived at Lowe's Motor Speedway just more than four hours before my start time. No shock, either, that I was the first person with any connection to the race to get there. So I changed a tire, set up my trainer, rearranged other items to maximize efficiency, checked messages and read for a little while. About 5:40 p.m. I went for a lap to see if my freshly purchased time-trial helmet would cause my head to explode. No, but the wind is loud when it can go between your ear and the helmet.

When I got on the trainer about 5:50 p.m. I could see from my garage bay that the big flag was blowing south. Hard. Fifteen minutes later it was blowing north. Hard. Ten minutes after that a race official told everyone to get in the garage and said a decision on whether to start would come at 7 p.m. Then the sky opened; thunder, but none of the promised hail. I stayed on the trainer for a few more minutes but only pedalled distractedly. The race was cancelled at 7:05 p.m. The latest is that race officials are working with the track to see if a makeup date is available.

The day was nothing close to a total waste. Even though I didn't get to learn the advantages of the helmet and shaved legs, I get more time to just get used to the helmet. Plus I got to eat at Steak n Shake and enjoy my monthly cheeseburger ration. I'll probably go out along Old U.S. 1 over the next couple of weekends and see if I have the helmet positioned and sized correctly.