Do Good Guys Wear Lyrca? - Another New Dawn in Cycling

Cycling fans we can smile again! Pat McQuaid has been ousted from UCI presidency and replaced by the UK’s Brian Cookson OBE. Cookson was endorsed by just about every cycling/doping critic around, but we’ll have to wait and see what he delivers. (You can read Cookson’s Manifesto here:
http://www.briancookson.org/files/6313/7208/9499/Manifesto_BC_English.pdf)
Now, my first cycling crush and the only American to ever win the Tour de France, Greg LeMond is back designing bicycles!

For those of you who aren't familiar with the LeMond bicycle, it was originally distributed through Trek until a certain litigious, chemical driven, bully on wheels used his then considerable clout and hatred for Greg to get the line dumped. Call it Karma, call it delayed justice, but the tables have turned. As the bully sits at home in Texas buried under an avalanche of lawsuits, LeMond is relaunching his brand through Time Bicycles.

This is the stuff of Fairy Tales, the Hollywood happy ending! The bullies and the corrupt leaders have lost in disgrace. The Cutters win the race, Dave Stoller gets the girl, the college degree and the pro contract. (If you are a cycling fan but you've never seen the movie Breaking Away, shame on you!).

The problem is, life is not so clear cut; good guys sometimes do bad things, bad guys sometimes do good things and our expectations that everyone has to stay on one side or the other leads to disappointment, pessimism and ambivalence. Look at the riders who admitted to cheating (without getting caught), confessing in order to help move things forward in a positive way. Which side of the good-bad divide do they belong on?  How many times have you said, “What’s the point, they’re all cheaters anyway”? All of them, really? The neo-pro barely making $30, 000 a year? The team that let the most skeptical of cycling journalists travel with the team with 100% access? What about Christophe Bassons? Surely he wasn’t an anomaly. He was racing at cycling’s nadir of doping and yet he remained so true to his ethics that he quit the sport rather than capitulate.

What cycling needs is what life needs, a healthy dose of cynicism tempered with optimism, a commitment by the critics to not just complain but do something about it and hordes of Dave Stollers and Christophe Bassons leading the way.

And if Time Bicycles or Greg LeMond needs someone to write a product review on the new LeMond bikes, just give me a call!

Antithesis' Guide to Long Distance Riding

With September (also known as mini-New Years) here I am reading a lot of articles about staying motivated and on track with fitness goals. They mean well, and are true in theory but very difficult in practice. As someone who rides alone a lot, I have a pretty good handle on getting in the kilometers even when your brain is desperately trying to talk you out of it. Here are my training secrets, may they serve you well.

1. Visit friends or relatives who live in a rural area you are not overly familiar with, preferably an area known for its corn.
2. Set out on a ride by yourself, when the road you are on ends in an inevitable dirt or gravel section, you must back track and turn at the first street you come to.
3. Do a loop (out-and-backs are not permitted)
4. Do not ask locals for directions
5. Don't even think about using the GPS/Map apps on your phone - chances are you'll be out of service range anyway.

I was fortunate enough to be in an area where corn fields are as ubiquitous as street signs are scarce. In such an area, if these guidelines do not add at least 30 - 40 km to your journey you are either an expert navigator or you really know your corn fields. 

Not knowing where you are and needing to get home sometime is the most powerful motivation I have found so far. You ride the extra kms because there is no other option. If you do end up so hopelessly lost that you cannot return home without help from your phone, use Google Maps bike route, it will add 15 km to your journey just to avoid even the slightest bump in the road.

*Note: I just returned home from a wonderful cycling mini-break, visiting family, riding wine country - which also happens to be peach country, cherry country, corn country, pear country and most fun of all, escarpment country. Eight days of cycling bliss on both back roads and main streets with huge bike lanes, without a single motorist cutting me off, turning into me, honking, shouting or passing too close. If you are an Ontario cyclist looking for a great place to ride, eat, drink and play you have to check out the Niagara Escarpment and all the little towns that make up the Regional Municipality of Niagara and be sure not to miss The Short Hills, Decew Road and Effingham Street for those all important Strava KOM points.

Re-Blog: Open Letter by Greg LeMond

Here's a re-blog of my first cycling crush and the only American to win the Tour de France, Greg LeMond's open letter to save the sport of cycling:

Can anyone help me out? I know this sounds kind of lame but I am not well versed in social marketing. I would like to send a message to everyone that really loves cycling. I do not use twitter and do not have an organized way of getting some of my own "rage" out. I want to tell the world of cycling to please join me in telling Pat McQuaid to resign. I have never seen such an abuse of power in cycling's history- resign Pat if you love cycling. Resign even if you hate the sport.

Pat McQuaid, you know dam well what has been going on in cycling, and if you want to deny it, then even more reasons why those who love cycling need to demand that you resign.

I have a file with what I believe is well documented proof that will exonerate Paul.

Pat in my opinion you and Hein are the corrupt part of the sport. I do not want to include everyone at the UCI because I believe that there are many, maybe most that work at the UCI that are dedicated to cycling, they do it out of the love of the sport, but you and your buddy Hein have destroyed the sport.

Pat, I thought you loved cycling? At one time you did and if you did love cycling please dig deep inside and remember that part of your life- allow cycling to grow and flourish- please! It is time to walk away. Walk away if you love cycling.

As a reminder I just want to point out that you recently you accused me of being the cause of USADA's investigation against Lance Armstrong. Why would you be inclined to go straight to me as the "cause"? Why shoot the messenger every time?

Every time you do this I get more and more entrenched. I was in your country over the last two weeks and I asked someone that knows you if you were someone that could be rehabilitated. His answer was very quick and it was not good for you. No was the answer, no, no , no!

The problem for sport is not drugs but corruption. You are the epitome of the word corruption.

You can read all about Webster's definition of corruption. If you want I can re-post my attorney's response to your letter where you threaten to sue me for calling the UCI corrupt. FYI I want to officially reiterate to you and Hien that in my opinion the two of your represent the essence of corruption.

I would encourage anyone that loves cycling to donate and support Paul in his fight against the Pat and Hein and the UCI. Skip lunch and donate the amount that you would have spent towards that Sunday buffet towards changing the sport of cycling.

I donated money for Paul's defense, and I am willing to donate a lot more, but I would like to use it to lobby for dramatic change in cycling. The sport does not need Pat McQuaid or Hein Verbruggen- if this sport is going to change it is now. Not next year, not down the road, now! Now or never!

People that really care about cycling have the power to change cycling- change it now by voicing your thought and donating money towards Paul Kimmage's defense, ( Paul, I want to encourage you to not spend the money that has been donated to your defense fund on defending yourself in Switzerland. In my case, a USA citizen, I could care less if I lost the UCI's bogus lawsuit. Use the money to lobby for real change).

If people really want to clean the sport of cycling up all you have to do is put your money where your mouth is.

Don't buy a USA Cycling license. Give up racing for a year, just long enough to put the UCI and USA cycling out of business. We can then start from scratch and let the real lovers in cycling direct where and how the sport of cycling will go.

Please make a difference.

Greg

For more on Paul Kimmage see http://www.pressgazette.co.uk/paul-kimmage-sued-cycling-governing-body-they-want-try-shut-me

For the Paul Kimmage Defense Fund see: http://nyvelocity.com/content/features/2012/paul-kimmage-defense-fund

Bicycles, Yoga and Preparing for Battle

I finished the MS Bike Tour Acton-Waterloo 200 km (over two days), despite appalling under training and lived to tell about it! (I also lived to get up and teach a spin class the next morning). Since then I've tried to keep it going with some fabulous night rides under a full and full-to-waning moon with My Guy at my side - magical - another assault on Rattlesnake Point and even a bit of single track on my mountain bike. One cross country ride, in fact, just enough to remind me that I really don't like my Mountain Bike. 

Now, as fall looms and the madness that is teaching 4 beginner karate classes (as well as 2 intermediate and 2 advanced) per week is about to begin anew I take a big breath and prepare for battle. Speaking of battles, I am signing My Guy up for yoga. Not just a class a week, but a full 30 day unlimited yoga package. He knows, he has agreed to go, but he doesn't like it. Only because he's never tried. Likewise, I had dabbled in the odd classes at the community centres where I teach and found it not unenjoyable but nothing that really managed to hook me. Then, finally caving to the constant nagging, goading and pressure from my son, I agreed to try a similar 30 day unlimited offer at a hot yoga studio and I absolutely loved it. So, when I found out my first teacher in there was opening a Power Yoga Canada studio in my city near my work, I was very excited.  When the opportunity to get on board with the Energy Exchange* program came along, I jumped without hesitation. 

I have tried and tried to get My Guy to go to classes (yoga and other) in the past and he has always been reluctant. Fit cyclist that he is, he isn't the most agile and his flexibility is that of a 80 year old man (both my parents, who are in their 70's, have far better flexibility). So the adventure begins, can I turn my reluctant, gun loving, meat eating boyfriend into a yoga loving, flexible as Gumby, Namasexual? In my favour is his cheapness, he hates seeing money wasted so if I pay for it, he'll attend out of obligation to get his (my) money's worth. Working against me is his army training to "hate hippies". I think kick ass flexibility and rising to the challenge of arm balances just might win out over "drop and give me 50 maggot". If not, there's always karate - a little from Column A and a little from Column B...

*For those unfamiliar with Yoga Energy Exchange, most yoga studios have a program for those who cannot afford classes, you work 1 4 hr unpaid shift per week helping to run the studio and you get unlimited free yoga classes plus deals on merchandise. Fantastic opportunity!

There's getting away from it all, and then...

Once again, I attempted a ride myself into shape road cycling bootcamp, this time it was only two days and I had my guy with me. The much anticipated trip turned sour for me about 55 km into our ride when I bonked hard. 

This wasn't supposed to happen. I had been teaching spin all winter, training karate, teaching the new Advanced Circuit Training while my guy was resting on his laurels. I was supposed to rip his legs off and return home triumphantly. Instead I was stopped at the top of the final climb (at least I made it up) feeling nauseous and dizzy and threatening bodily harm if my guy tried to continue with his "work through it" lecture.

Was it under training? Over training? the 40+ Celsius heat? Dehydration? Or am I getting soft, weak and lazy? I really don't have an answer to that (though several signs do point to dehydration). I do know that my last two bike rides have sucked (don't get me wrong, I had a great time, I just didn't perform the way I expected to). Now I'm back home, once again analyzing the situation (read over analyzing) and trying to fill in the gaps. The gaps in my nutrition, the gaps in my training, the gaps in my mental fortitude and trying to repair the breach to get me back where I used to be.

While I'm home putting it all back together, my guy is taking it all apart; reading real estate pages for some truly rural areas and dreaming of a house in the country in his near future. I'm torn. Yes, riding for several hours (and many km's) without a single driver-cyclist altercation was mind blowing. We saw enough examples of effective road cohabitation to determine it was not a fluke. Drivers passed when it was safe, giving cyclists a wide berth and they patiently waited behind when they couldn't. Without the slogans, signs or campaigns these two groups just got along, like any other option had not occurred to them. We didn't encounter a single car horn, hollering, item thrown out the window at us or any other attempt at harassment. It was cycling shangri la, add to that the fact that most hills peak at a 14% gradient and I start dreaming of that country house too.

Then I remember the 1 hr drive to get a real cappuccino, the single decent bike store (and it really is good) that only carries one clothing line, and the Italian restaurant being the closest thing the community has to "ethnic food" and I realize it's a nice place to visit but..... but in my own area I see construction signs for the 407 toll highways expansion that will run right through the supposed green belt and cut of all my safe cycling routes and the balance shifts back to the West.

Maybe,giving up my favourite Indian restaurant is worth not getting killed while out for a bike ride

Bike Love in the Time of Scandal

You knew my not writing much about cycling wasn't going to last forever

I far too briefly alluded to Tom Boonen’s Paris-Roubaix win in my last blog. I also failed to mention his wins in E3 Harelbeke, Gent-Wevelgem and Ronde Van Vlaanderen. We lifted many a Leffe Blond to his honour in this house. Like Philippe Gilbert last year, Tornado Tom seems unstoppable, and that makes me so very nervous. Ever since the 90’s, into the dubious Armstrong era and up until recently, dominance in cycling has usually been followed by scandals or at least implications. Let’s face it, positive results on the bike generally lead to positive results in the lab and that sucks.

I am not trying to mitigate the wonder that has been Tommeke and Phil Gil over the past two seasons. In fact watching these men has given me tremendous pleasure and I like them both as riders and sports personalities. If anything, I am pissed off that an endless parade of cheaters makes me so jaded that a good performance makes me immediately suspicious. The reason I get nervous is that I don’t want all my celebrations of their victories to come crashing down around me like so many have before (you broke my heart, Basso).

I understand that doping in sport is a complex issue, that the indoctrination of the needle starts in the junior ranks with coaches taking advantage of young, impressionable kids (don’t buy that for a second? How mature were your decision making skills at 18, 15, 12…you get the idea) that the pressure to win is crushing and the insular lifestyle of a cyclist, with days away from home and family probably more numerous than any other sport and the grounding elements of having some life away from the bike just doesn’t exist. I know there is no simple solution, that the problem isn’t going to go away even if the UCI adopts every suggestion WADA ever made. Someone who lives and breathes for the sport isn’t going to be convinced that winning isn’t everything – just look at the headlines when they lose.

I don’t know what the answer is. Better supervision in the junior ranks is probably a good start. Not making a sport’s governing body responsible for policing their own might be another. I’d really, really like to enjoy bike races without making wry comments that the results are going to be meaningless is 4 months (though probably good news for all those riders who finished just behind Ballan in each race. Get ready to move up, gentlemen).

Here’s to you, Tommeke. Faith on the line, I complement you on a wonderful spring campaign with cynicism shoved down to the pit of my stomach. I’ll try my best to watch Amstel Gold without a suspicious bone in my body….unless Ballan lines up.

Dare or Dare (and that's the truth)

Ever since the National Road Championships, I have wanted to try and yet been completely intimidated by the climb up to Rattlesnake Point - the road that is the wallpaper for my blogspot (the climb starts at 10% gradient!). I like hills, and I am a sucker for any man who can climb on a bike, but I've never actually ridden on anything so steep it had to have switch backs and even then cars strained to go up it. In moments of pure stupid bravado, I have said I'd sell my bike before I walked it up a climb, but never had *really* climbed. 

When the challenge, and a partner in riding crime presented themselves, I had to finally see what I was made of. My original intention was to do the climb once and take photos as my riding partner did hill repeats. We hit the bottom of the climb and I was a little nervous that I might not be able to climb it (many have not on their first attempts - and I love my bike, I'm not ready to sell it), but I pedaled on..and up, and up, and twist, and up, crested and then I knew I had to try it again. I did stop after two to take the promised photos, but then I just had to try it one last time. 3 loops in all, almost following the national course, certainly not the 10 that the elite women did or the 14 that the elite men did, but enough to boost my confidence and send my self doubt packing.

Today I was at a barbeque (yes, that's how we spell it here) and there were a number of women asking me about karate and spin classes, and telling me all the reasons why they couldn't do either. When I asked if they've ever tried a class they quietly said no. It amazes me the things people talk themselves out of without ever giving it a chance. How much they miss out on because they have already decided that they will fail. I think that's the main reason I teach kids, they don't make excuses or talk themselves out of things, they just try, until adults start holding them back and saying "you can't expect much out of them, their just kids"....Kids aren't too small, adults' minds are.

The view from above

Fell In Love With a Road

Well, I'm back from a one woman mini-training camp. Having some time off, and sensing my "vacation" plans about to fall through and become day-trip activities around the city I was trying to get the hell away from, I shut off my mobile, left the laptop, packed up the bike and headed for the hills. Oh those hills. 

I had always disliked certain areas of this vast province I live in. Judgments based on both over exposure and non-exposure at the same time. Sometimes, when something is too familiar to you, you take it for granted. I opened my mind, traveled several hours out of the city to places that were a prominent feature of my childhood and put my tires to the tarmac; testing myself on the toughest climbs in the area. Then it happened, I fell in love with a place I used to hate because I finally really saw it for the first time.

This was a very transformative training camp for me. In recent years I had spent more time on my mountain bike because riding my road bike brought up a lot of bitter-sweet, sad memories. All that was stripped away layer by layer, climb by climb, and beneath I found the little girl who first fell in love with the freedom, the challenge and the wonder of riding a bike. I was reborn as a cyclist out on those climbs. Along with a lot of sweat, I left behind all the negative associations that had piled up around my bike and realized they didn't have anything to do with my riding. I was riding a bike long before any of the negative stuff ever happened.

Grinning like a maniac, I attacked twisting, snaking descents with a fearlessness I haven't felt in a long time. Climbing the toughest hill I have faced to date, I was overcome with a strange experience. First my arms, then my face started to tingle; not in a pins and needles sort of manner, but in a feel-good euphoric sort of way one would generally only experience if they were very fortunate during an entirely different type of cardiovascular activity. It was wild. It was definitely a cycling first for me, and I want more....

Whatever it is you used to love to do, before it became not fun anymore, before life or disappointment or negative associations got in the way, I hope you rekindle that spark and fall in love all over again. It's magical!

Doing my bike courier impersonation at the train station

Life is Like a Bike Ride

I love the sport of cycling, I love watching races, I love riding my bike, and I love teaching spin classes and hooking the “I just want to burn a lot of calories” crowd on to my favourite sport. What I love most about cycling are the climbs. Years ago, a friend of mine (I wish I knew where he was now) told me that I made life intentionally difficult for myself. I am sure I am not alone in doing so; I believe many of us live this way.

When I think about going out for a ride, images of long stretches of flat, smooth road are not what spring to mind. That kind of ride sounds mind-numbingly boring to me. I imagine a hot, sunny day, lots of rolling hills and ideally at least one brutal climb that makes me question my worth as a bike rider. That, to me, is an awesome day on the bike. I have not yet gotten off my bike and walked it up a climb, nor turned around and avoided one. I’m not saying it will never happen, but I hope it doesn’t. It is no surprise that my “bucket list” includes riding up two mountains (Ventoux and Alp d’ Huez, in case you are wondering).

 

I regularly do an experiment with my karate students. It’s not new and I certainly didn’t invent it. I pick a small student and ask them to raise their arms to the side. I instruct the student not to let me push their arms down, and then I do so with complete ease. Next I have the student close his or her eyes and visualize steel beams coming from the wall, through one arm, through the chest and out the other arm. I ask them to focus on how sold and strong that steel support is. Then I hang off their arms, lifting all my weight off the floor – every time, without fail.

I don’t think I am a drama queen, despite my days in the theatre and the protestations to the contrary of my last boyfriend (he should talk!). The reason I love the climbs is the test of my mettle. I probably approach most aspects of my life the same way. I wouldn’t call myself an adrenalin junkie, by any means. Yes, I like to challenge myself, but I don’t know if I do so more than the average person. I don’t know a lot of average people. I do know a lot of people who literally get a light in their eyes when they speak of overcoming something very difficult. It’s not about bragging rights and it is not about pride. It’s about seeing what really is possible instead of listening to what is impossible. I was going to end this entry with, “try it, you just might like it”, but if you are a regular reader, you don’t need to be told that, you already live it.

Left for Dead – The Family Edition or Why My Rotting Corpse Won’t Be Found Until the Neighbours Complain About the Smell

For several weeks I had been planning and favorably anticipating attending the Canadian National Cycling Championships with a friend and meeting some other friends on course. I was a little let down when my friend told me, just before the event, that he had other obligations. I was a little more concerned when, already on the GO Train, none of my messages to the other friends had elicited a response. Ah well, being out alone isn’t new to me and it doesn’t generally prevent me from venturing forth. I met the obliged friend at the train station and he very generously brought me coffee and drove me to the ideal course vantage point, the brute of a climb Rattlesnake Point. In under a minute of being dropped off I heard my name called. There were my friends, fortune was smiling on me. Little did I realize this would be the last fortuitous event for several hours.

The race kicked off and the action got crazy right away, with a crash on lap one. Riders settled down a little and attacks were made. It was good racing. My friends left after about 4 laps. I was a little concerned, but had assurance that, if I really needed a ride back, I should just phone.  My mobile phone battery has the lifespan of a mayfly, so I turned the phone off to be safe and happily soaked up the National Cycling scene, watched the podium presentations and pulled out my phone. I discovered, to my horror, that it had somehow turned on in my bag. I had enough battery to send two texts and then it died. I was stuck, atop possibly the worst climb in Ontario (let the arguments begin!), with no option but to start the long trek down into town and public transit. Why didn’t she just ride to the course? You may well be asking yourself. Well, here’s the punch line, I had been ordered off the bike due to a foot injury.

So I walked, and I walked, and I walked, on an unlit side road. Down, down, down into town, with support vehicles blowing past me well above posted speed limits.  Rising from a steep drop somewhere in the darkness I could hear the sounds of the riders, somehow having restored their energy, partying to thumping beats and digital sirens. I marched on. Two young men did drive down and offer to take me back to the party. I politely declined but suggested they might be helpful in, say, calling me a taxi. The laughed and drove off in the direction they had come from. My white Pearl Izumi rain jacket must have caught their attention in the dark (and prevented me from being hit by other racing motorists). I began to feel a little sorry for myself, but then I watched the fireflys float through the fields and realized it wasn’t that bad. In fact, it was a nice night for a walk. Probably not the best thing for my injury, but we don’t have to tell my doctor about it.

Finally I came upon street lights, traffic lights, sidewalks; all the trappings of a civilized world. When I hit the first gas station I broke down and called a taxi out of concern for making the last train. The taxi took 20 minutes; I missed the last train by 12. With nowhere else to turn, I hesitated and then called my father collect from a pay phone. He promised to come collect me from the station. He never showed up. So I waited, and waited. Walked to the 24 coffee shop, walked back. Repeat. Finally, at 7:17 am I was on the first train heading home. Two hours fifteen minutes later I walked in the door to find a message from my father, left at 8:30 am. After hanging up the phone he decided that his headache (an issue he never mentioned while we were speaking) was too great for him to drive.

The moral of the story? Even the Canadian cyclists like bad Eurobeats….


(Please, before you think I am blaming my father, read the tags on this blog. I realize MY sole culpability in the outcome of these events)

Rollin mixing it at the front before his frame cracked

Team Ontario hanging in

A treble for Team Spidertech in the Elite Men's Road

and top spot on the podium for U23 (nice to see Ontario on the  podium)

Felt sorry for those prairie boys

Schadenfreudian Slip

In evidence for an old post. USADA's report on Lance Armstrong was released to the public today: http://cyclinginvestigation.usada.org/

Canada's Michael Berry admits to doping under the Lance Regime and Cycling Records are for ever changed. Will what replaces it be better or worse remains to be seen

Everybody loves a good downfall. It’s a very ugly part of our nature which most of us would like to deny, but the fact that there are more “reality” TV shows and gossip column, blogs, etc than sitcoms suggests it is our new favourite past time. Well, not that new, mythology is filled with stories of the mighty and oh how low they fall.

I am not proud to confess that I share this very problematic characteristic, but for YEARS I have been rooting for the plunge of America’s favourite cyclist, Mr. Lance Armstrong.  I cannot even tell you how or why my dislike for him was born, only that I devoted much time to it. I have done more research about him than I have the riders I adore. I have been waiting, wishing, dreaming of the day he got caught. Now there is an FDA probe into his career and I find myself doing a reversal of hope.

No, I am not becoming a Lance lover, by any means, but I must come to terms with the fact that if I were to hate every boisterous, successful person who would do anything to guarantee their own security, I’d have to turn to the hermetic life. 

My flip-flop is not based on ethics or humanity, just a hard look at my own make up. I still can’t reconcile why it is I so intensely disliked this man I had never met. After all, two of my favourite cyclists of all time have been caught doping.  Look at any person great at anything and you will see someone with intense focus, drive, introspection and commitment to their craft – in short, a very selfish person. Did I hate Lance because I couldn’t be him, did I hate him because I saw some of myself in him? Or did I just need a scapegoat for pent up aggression? Whatever the reason, I know that his downfall will not be good for the sport I love so much, it will not be good for cancer research or the hope of cancer patients and it will do nothing to further the psyche of humanity.

Maybe, just maybe, instead of tearing down false idols, we should stop turning mere mortals into them. Who knows, without all the adoration, scrutiny and pressure, they may grow into the kind of person we would all want to become.