The last few months I have been balancing work and training along a fine line that has kept me perpetually tired and on edge. I'm very aware of falling down the path of overtraining as I have done it so many times in the past. One of my major goals since I started seriously training and racing again last year was to avoid this burnout. I was able to dodge the overtraining bullet for half the season last year by not "training," just riding enjoying my bike. However this happy-go-lucky method eventually caught up with me in August and I was torched for the remainder of the 2007.
This season I moved back to a scientific method of periodization, very specific workouts and detailed tracking of my body and fitness. Using my super secret methods of monitoring my progress and well-being, I have been able to successfully cheat "death" (overtraining) for the last 4 months – even though the entire time I have feel his icy grip ready to close around my neck.
I know my fitness is growing and I have the numbers to back it up. However training and work schedules have put me into the first few races of the season with extremely tired legs (often purposely). Even though I know I will not perform well, and am using these racing for training – it is still mentally taxing to get dropped and shelled.
Going into Wards Ferry, my training has finally reached a point of total adaptation. I am able to now string together a series of hard workout days without fatigue. My legs are finally there, my lungs are ready for action and my heart is pumping strong. I want to race and am ready to do well, physically and mentally. With the back story in place, I can now present my official race report of the 2008 Wards Ferry Cat 3 Road Race.
From my warm-up on the trainer and straight from the gun on the start line, I was feeling very loose and really good. 6 miles in to the race, I hit a crater-sized pothole and my front tire exploded. Jumping off my bike to throw in my spare tube, I realize I have a C02 cartridge but not a dispenser valve. I wait around for the follow truck to borrow a pump, only to discover that my spare tube had a hole in it. BAM, race officially over. I rode the rest of the lap clinging to the toolbox in the bed of the Velo Promo truck, sharing stories of woe with other fellow flatters. Fuck
On a positive note, it was great driving down with Conrad, Justin and Nate for an evening of team bonding, burrito eating and death defying driving down Highway 49. And many thanks to Dr. Jonathan Laine for driving me back up to Truckee.
Article was last edited on Wednesday, August 6th, 2008 @ 3:11 PM
