It has come to my attention recently that I eat nutritiously. Very nutritiously. It’s been an interesting progression, but thinking back I gained some insight into how that has come about – mostly relating to the series of events shaping my life over the last two years. It can be broken down into some distinct phases:

College: Broke collegiate cyclist. Most of my diet consisted of staples like pasta, rice, grains, and vegetables. I usually managed to eat on less than $100 a month. For the most part it was healthy eating, but with that kind of food budget there were compromises nutritionally, and I while I was managing to fuel myself well, I was definitely lacking the proper amounts of some key nutrients.

Life on the Road: My full-time traveling marketing gig in the 2nd half of 2008 really reintroduced me to the concept of good eating through the form of hotel continental breakfasts and a daily meal stipend.  However, when I say good eating, I’m referring primarily to taste (see here, here, and here for some examples).  Thanks to a good amount of running and working out, somehow I actually lost weight while basically eating out three times a day for that long. Don’t try that one at home.

Job? What Job?: A bad economy put a damper on the job search following the contract travel job ending, but for five months I lived with a very gracious aunt and uncle and ate mostly whatever they were eating. This consisted of a fairly typical diet of a Midwesterner who migrated to the Pacific Northwest – hearty foods like meat and potatoes, pasta and rice dishes, and salads.

On My Own: A new job and living completely on my own for the first time ever gave me a blank slate as far as eating goes.  Combined with a more flexible budget than my college scrimping, I now spend a bit over $200 a month on food, and that generally goes a long way.

My Diet:

Here’s what you’ll find in my cupboards/fridge these days. Note the categorizations:

Fruits/Veggies

Bananas, apples, applesauce, orange juice, grapes/raisins, frozen blueberries, squash, beans (black, pinto, kidney, re-fried, red), green beans, broccoli, spinach, corn, zucchini, onion, green pepper, garlic

Grains

Cheerios/whole grain cereal, oats, pancake mix, granola, jasmine rice, pasta, tortillas, wheat bread, bagels

Protein Sources & Good Fats

Avacados, peanut butter, roasted unsalted nuts, fish oil, chicken breasts, turkey lunchmeat, milk, tuna, whey protein powder, eggs, yogurt

Spreads/Other

Saffola mayo, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, stir fry sauce, BBQ sauce, mustard, soy sauce, parmesan cheese, cream cheese, salsa

Junk Food

Dill pickles, corn tortilla chips, cheddar cheese, microbrews, red wine

Note what’s lacking – specifically pretty much any sort of processed food, as well as much of anything with added sugars. The impact has been really interesting. My tastes have changed to some extent, with processed foods now tasting “processed”, if that makes any sense. Raw and plain foods taste better, and by cutting out most added sugars, now when I do eat something with high sugar content, the sweetness can almost be too much. You body definitely likes this sort of diet.

As far as cycling goes, your body REALLY likes this sort of diet. I’ve never felt this good training, I recover quickly, and I pay particular attention to eating foods with lots of proteins. I still eat a ton – probably twice what your normal person would (should) be eating, but I’ve still cut some weight/fat and added muscle mass in the last year. I think in addition to a great training regimen and getting good rest, one of my secret weapons to being strong on the bike this year is how I’ve been eating. And when I do eat sugary/high glucose foods intentionally while riding, the kick my body gets from it is huge- to the point that it’s very noticeable.

Future Plans

While I’m pretty happy where things are at currently, I have some minor upcoming changes to make:

1 – I plan to switch to brown rice from white rice. More nutritious, and while I currently don’t like the taste/texture as well as white rice, I think I’ll get used to it.

2 – I’m going to cut some glutens out. While I don’t think I have gluten intolerance (which does run in my family to some extent), humans just aren’t genetically programmed to digest gluten very well. I definitely notice that my body doesn’t process it as well. While I don’t plan to cut it out entirely, I think I’m going to eat more substitutes like quinoa, rice pasta, etc.

3 – This one should be a fun one. I’m always tempted by things like hummus, pesto, and salsa at the store, but the fact of the matter is that they’re all ridiculously overpriced given the manufacturing costs. So instead, I’m going to get myself a decent food processor and make them. Hummus is the first experiment. I’ve already got the chickpeas, tahini, garlic, and other ingredients. That $4.99 2 cup tub of hummus you find at the grocery store? I can make that same quantity for a little over a dollar. The food processor will pay for itself in a hurry.

Speaking of food, it’s now 7PM the evening before a bike race. Time to go make myself a nice big stir fry.

About half way into the first lap (of 3 laps plus several miles of a fourth lap to the finish), I rolled slightly off the front of the field with teammate Chris DuBois coming over the top of a climb. We decided to work just enough to hopefully put some panic in the field and make them chase us hard enough to drop anyone that was hurting early in the race.  The intention was never to stay away, but after two more riders bridged the gap up to us, we decided to give it a go. DuBois dropped back to the main field fairly quickly, but the remaining three of us took off up the road. It was an interesting mix in the break, partly because two of us could climb, and the third rider from Portland Velo was extremely strong on flats and downhill but couldn’t climb very quickly.

After only 5 miles or so, the break began to fall apart, and I found myself alone up the road with somewhere just under a minute lead on the main field. I decided I had nothing to lose, so I chose to try to stay away solo with just over two laps to go. I had several things working in my favor besides being strong on the climbs and having decent time trialing strength; first, the course had enough corners and rolling terrain that I knew if I could stay about a minute ahead of the field, I’d be out of sight for the most part. Second, I was catching a number of Cat 1/2 racers that had fallen off the pace of the race that started several minutes ahead of us, and they would serve to confuse the chasing field nicely on exactly where I was at.

After a lap off the front on my own I was feeling decent and still had about the same gap on the field of a minute or slightly less. Then things got interesting when a dump truck blocked the road briefly, bringing me to a stop and allowing the main field to catch up with me. The race officials kept the main group back and allowed me to regain my break time once the road was clear, but I think having me close in their sights waiting for the dump truck probably made them smell blood and want to bring me back. Worse, I was in a really nice rhythm, and having to completely stop and then immediately get back to a hard threshold tempo really hurt and I started cramping slightly.

I stayed away for another full lap while fighting cramping, but eventually I was reeled back in with only 2-3 miles to go in the race. At that point I was hurting and worried I’d get shot out the back of the lead group, but I managed to hang in alright and actually found the strength to close a gap or two that opened up during attacking that occurred in the final miles. I spent the last mile yelling at Chris DuBois that my legs were toasted and I’d be pissed if he didn’t beat me since he should be fresh. Apparently that helped with some motivation, because he had a strong finish and came in 6th. I hung on for 10th on a short finishing climb with a 20 percent grade that made everyone’s tired legs scream at them.

All in all, I’m pleased with how it went, even if a 30 mile time trial wasn’t in my original plans for the day. This one told me a lot more about my fitness than the win at Cherry Pie did. It’s good – really good. April races, look out.

My aunt was there and took some great photos:

See the full Gallery

Next up come the Banana Belts which I’ll mostly treat as training races. That said, if the opportunity to snag the rest of the points I need to secure a Cat 2 upgrade arises, I’ll definitely take advantage of it.

This one was a weird one. It still hasn’t quite sunk in fully, partly because with a mile to go my only goal left was to try to salvage my race and pull out a top 15.

Staging/The Start

First off, I feel really bad for the portion of our field that missed the start. Apparently our field’s registration capped out at 100, yet we were staged and started a full 8 minutes early and we rolled out with probably only 70 riders. One of our riders didn’t make it in time, and several other teams were lacking a majority of their groups. Not sure why that happened, but at the very least I hope the promoter gives them all refunds.

Lap 1

If they didn’t manage to catch up with the group before the end of the neutral rollout, it was race over for them. As soon as the race began, someone drilled it and we were going 30MPH from the gun. Early on in the lap, Rob and Derek made things interesting up front, and then about the time Rob moved back to rest up, a break got away that ended up being 7 riders at one point. I tried to bridge to it into a slight headwind and failed, coming within probably 30 yards of the break before not being able to hold the pace and dropping back. I don’t feel quite as bad about that looking back, considering at one point I looked down and I was in my 53X13 chasing them.

I made one other attempt to bridge with two other riders, but the peleton chased us and we never got much of a gap on them. At this point, I wasn’t feeling very good and needed to rest up.

Coming into the climb the first time, suddenly I was passing riders all over the place and started to feel a bit better about my form. The break started shedding some riders and was down to 4 starting the second of two laps (26 miles each for a total of 52).  At this point it began to look like the break was finally going to get caught, and I slipped back in the pack a ways to rest up to be up front for the last miles of the race.

Lap 2

We had a fast first lap – averaging over 26MPH, and then as soon as the break was caught about a quarter of the way into the second lap, the pace slowed significantly and the movement in the peleton bottlenecked worse than I think I’ve ever seen it before. I spend the last 20 miles of the race trying in vain to move up even a few spots, but found myself stuck very solidly around 40^th place in the pack. We were 5 wide, bumping bars, crossing wheels, etc. Justin managed to get himself up to a comfortable spot near the front just in time before things froze up, but Pat, Derek, and myself all found ourselves mid pack trying to get a glimpse of the front of the race.

Nearing the Finish

With several miles to go, everyone was getting anxious with nowhere to go and feeling pretty much completely stuck. Some yelling, bumping, and other general sketchiness occurred. I just tried to keep myself calm and patient, telling myself that a line would open up. That hope started to fade as we approached the base of the final climb to the finish.

The Finishing Climb

The base of the climb was about the point where I decided a top 15 would be a decent way to salvage the day, and I figured I could pass enough people to do so.  Up the first of the steps of the climb things stayed fairly packed together with nowhere to move. Then, out of nowhere on the second step of the climb a huge line opened to the left and I jumped hard, going from 30^th or further back up to top 10.

Justin gave me a very motivating “go get ‘em” as I passed, and I found myself sitting 5^th-6^th wheel around the final corner into the steep part of the finishing climb – which was right where I would have wanted to be regardless of the last 20 frustrating miles. I was already a bit spent from the effort to move up, but I figured I’d trust my legs from several weeks of hard 2-3 minute Tabor intervals to carry me to the finish.

Someone jumped pretty much right away after the corner, and I grabbed his wheel as he came around everyone heading towards the 200 meter sign. Instead of starting to die off, I actually managed to grab an extra gear and came around him with about 100 meters to go and put my head down and dug hard hoping no one could come around me.

I made it to the line first and was fairly sure I had won, but had to double-check with officials partly because there were a few riders up ahead that it turns out had fallen off the back of the race in front of us. That, and I was in a mild state of disbelief that I’d managed to pull a win out of what seemed like a hopeless situation.

Justin got caught up in a crash on the finishing climb, which spoiled what would have otherwise been a very good finishing place (he’s fine). It’s his turn next week.

Thanks also to Derek for trying to help me move up. Even though we never actually made much headway, he definitely kept me focused on trying to move up, which in reality at the very least kept me fighting to hold my position and not slip further back.

So here’s to you, Leader Bike USA for making affordable only-semi-crappy bikes that perform admirably and hold up really well. That affordable part was a life-saver in college.

Now, on to the new.

I’ve been saving for the past 8 months and I’m finally acquiring everything to put together a bike that will put everything I’ve ever ridden to shame. Thanks to some great Team Oregon sponsors this year, I’ll be on a bike that would cost upwards of $5,000 retail. When everything is acquired, it will cost me significantly less. This year is also the first year where I’ve truly hit my stride in training, and my form this year should be deserving of a fast bike.

I’m also replacing some old gear that probably outlived its expected life by several years:

New Shoes: Specialized BG Pro Carbon road shoes

New Glasses: Rudy Project Rydons

Here’s what the bike will consist of. You’re going to have to use your imagination for now to put everything together. Pictures coming once everything gets here and it’s built.

Frame/Fork/Seatpost: Blue AC1

Component Groupo: SRAM Force

Wheels: Rol Race SL (these are from last season, but still in great shape. Depending on budget later in the season, I’ve got my eye on a set of American Classic Carbon 58s for crits and flatter races.)

Bars: Ritchey Pro Logic II

Stem: TBD after custom fitting. Something stiff and alloy (not carbon).

Saddle: Fizik Arione CX Kium

Tires: Schwalbe Ultremo

Pedals: Speedplay Zero

Bottle Cages: Something not carbon that looks cool (that’s what it’s all about, right?)

With all that newness, I’m probably going to have to drop it in the parking lot before I race it for the first time to get the first scratch out of the way early to make sure it’s not a big one.

See the big version here – still only 25% of actual size.

If I were to print this thing out at 100%, it’d be something insane like 50 inches tall and 360 inches (30 feet) long.

Time has flown since then, and these days I’m looking at slightly different roads from on top of a bike.  Not a bad trade.

I look back at what I learned during the tour last year (primarily having to do with my world view and people) and compare it with what I’ve learned this past year, and it’s definitely been a year of self-reflection and personal growth. I’ve somehow managed to be one of the lucky ones who has come out of this economic mess with a job, but that’s just an added bonus to finding myself in a wonderful city surrounded by great people and abundant cycling.  The transition from full-time traveler to unemployment to working the 8-5 daily grind hasn’t always been an easy one, but it helps a bit when the view out the office window looks like this:

So what else…?

If you can’t tell from the lack of blog updates, I’ve been busy.  Living life takes a lot of time.

Cycling is going great.  My December fitness has never been even close to what it is now.  If I can build into next race season from the point I’m at now, *unnecessary self-centered smack-talk deleted*.  Uh, It’ll be good.  I’ll let the legs do the talking in March.

This is the time of year where the weather begins to test your dedication to riding, but so far so good.  Recent rides have included freezing temperatures, wind and rain.  Luckily, there hasn’t been a ride yet that included the spirit-killing combination of all three of those elements.  This is also not the time of year you want to be stopping for flats.

It took 4-5 miles of near-threshold after that one to get my core warm again, and I’m not sure my toes ever fully recovered during the ride.  Other than the flat, we had a great ride to Multnomah Falls in the Gorge a week ago.  Strong winds made for a slow trip out and a very fast trip back.  It’s a great ride, and I look forward to doing it again (particularly when the weather is warmer).

It’s currently trying to snow and failing, resulting in some sort of misty/slush combination.  Right now the roads are wet, but tomorrow morning everything will be ice.  The new Minoura Rollers
are already coming in handy for training, and I found the perfect storage space for them.

I realize that picture doesn’t really give any context or anything and is for the most part pointless.  I just wanted to post a picture of my new rollers.

My cross bike also remains very broken. Not that this one would magically repair itself or anything, but it also doesn’t look like it’ll be getting replaced.  Anyone have a need for some lightweight aluminum tubing?

Thanksgiving was great, December is flying by, and before I know it I’ll find myself in St. George for the holidays to visit my parents.  2009 in general has disappeared quickly, but I’ve packed plenty of fun in: racing bikes, spending time with new and old friends, exploring a new city, job hunting (not quite so much fun), working (far better than job hunting)… and all the other little things that make day-to-day life interesting.

And there’s a girl.  Girlfriend, actually.  If you follow my life enough to have made it this far into this blog post without being completely bored I’d say there’s probably a decent chance you knew this already, but if not, now you do.  It’s all still very new, but pretty much every day I’m amazed by how awesome she is.  Her name is Jess.  She’s smart, pretty, has a great personality, and races bikes.  What more could I ask for?

So yeah – life is good, and as Justin would say, ILOT.

My morning commute is perfect.  I head out the door into crisp, if not cold morning weather, catch the sunrise over a calm Columbia River with Mt. Hood as a backdrop, and avoid much of the heavier traffic that starts about the time I’m getting to work.  Combine that with the hot showers with plenty of water pressure at work, and it’s a great way to show up at your desk in the morning refreshed and ready for the day.

That said, my commute home in the evening is terrible.  The end of daylight savings time this last weekend means that I’m now riding home in the dark, and I’ve quickly determined that 2 lights in back and one in front (standard-power LEDs) plus some reflective gear still isn’t enough.  Throw Vancouver drivers, who can’t hold a candle to their Portland counterparts as far as bike awareness goes, into the mix, and you’d basically have to ride like you were invisible even if you mounted a set of car headlights on your handlebars.

Then there’s the route itself.  During the daylight hours it’s fairly unassuming, but at night it turns into a different beast altogether.  The trip home goes something like this:

• Play Frogger from the get-go heading out of the parking lot while trying to avoid your coworkers pulling out.
• Next up, take a series of left and right corners that cars like to apex by cutting into the bike lane – more often than not while they’re passing you going 30 in a 20.
• Take a left onto Andresen Rd, a heavy traffic four lane road where the bike lane appears and disappears on a whim, and cars will stop at nothing to make sure they get ahead of you to cut across the bike lane into the right-turn only lanes.  I’d take another route, except there are none that get me in the direction I need to be going.
• Continue along Andresen through a section I’ve dubbed “right hook Hell” – a stretch where by default all cars will cut you off while making right turns into parking lots.
• Then comes a brief respite up a half-mile long climb where cars generally don’t have any reason to be in the bike lane, but occasionally still manage to be there anyway.
• Next up comes a fun little stretch after taking a right onto Mill Plain Rd. where generally there is a nice tailwind in the evening and I feel safe simply because I’m cruising along at 30-35MPH along with the rest of the traffic.
• After cutting across a mall parking lot to avoid two different massive intersections without any sort of bike-friendliness, you head into the woods and the city disappears on Blandford Dr.  The descent down Blandford consists of a narrow two lane road that winds its way down several hundred feet in almost complete darkness.  Thankfully traffic is minimal, and it’s actually a fun descent as long as you avoid the large pothole on the right side that you saw going the other direction that morning.
• Next up you hit the flats on Columbia House Blvd.  Here it’s back to alternating sections of shoulder and no shoulder, and usually where there is a shoulder there is glass.  At least that’s what it sounds like under my tires – I can’t actually see it in the dark.
• You come to a set of two stop lights.  No big deal.  Except that these stop lights can’t be triggered by bikes.  And they are uni-directional; only one direction at a time gets a green.  And there is rarely any traffic coming the direction you are.  The kicker: there aren’t even crosswalks or buttons to press to trigger the light.  So you wait until you see an opportunity where you think there’s less than a 20% chance of being run over and run the red.  And the other red.
• Next comes a tricky lane crossing where you have to split two lanes – the one to your right being an onramp where cars accelerate onto a freeway and the lane doesn’t split off until the last minute.
• Oh look, another traffic light you can’t trigger – at least this one usually has traffic.  More glass.  Gravel.  A tire.
• Next up comes a section of road right along the Columbia resulting in more tailwinds.  It’s dark without streetlights, so make sure to avoid the crack that runs down much of the ride side of the road.
• Hello, I-5 bridge interchange.  The process of getting onto the bridge begins with an uphill blind corner onto the pedestrian part of the bridge – a perfect setup for someone to come flying down the other direction straight into you.  You could almost see up the bridge a ways, were it not that a bunch of car headlights are directly in your line of sight blinding you.
• Here’s the really fun part.  You get to ride across a narrow (sidewalk width or less) pedestrian area for about a half mile, including a nice little uphill and downhill.  Meanwhile, you’re avoiding a railing and plunge into the Columbia on one side and girders and support beams for the bridge on the other.  Throw in being blinded by headlights, some slight pollution from the cars on the bridge, oh – and at times a 20-25MPH sidewind threatening to blow you off course into a painful situation between a bridge support beam and a hard place.
• You’ve successfully made it across the bridge.  Great! Now watch out for that sudden shifting to the right of the path that you can barely see coming due to the blinding of the car headlights.  Miss the turn and it’s into a concrete wall for you!
• Drop down a dirt section rather than taking the path that loops needlessly far around.  The path is pretty cracked and broken anyway.
• Hello Jantzen Beach.  So where do I go now?  The bike sign says cross the road and up onto the sidewalk the wrong way on the other side of the road?  Uh, okay.
• Now I get to cross at a crosswalk and hope the car speeding down the offramp sees me coming around a blind corner.
• Glass.
• Next you get to do some weird sort of looping figure eight to cross under one onramp and over another.  Finally, you’re dumped out at the North end of Delta Park East.
• Proceed through the park on a quiet backroad in complete darkness.  Ambient light doesn’t even do much good with the heavy tree cover.  The road turns slightly several times and you have to watch very closely to not wind up in a ditch.  Note to self: eat more carrots.  Did I mention the potholes? Don’t even bother to try to avoid the potholes in the dark.  Just have a very steady grip on the bars and be ready for the front wheel to jerk around wildly.
• Once you make it out of the dark, you wind up making a right turn onto a road that inevitably backs up due to the traffic on I-5 North and the nearby onramp that’s overloaded with cars.  Cut through some stopped traffic to find yourself in the left lane, or you’ll never move.
• Pass Portland International Raceway, think of warmer, sunnier days of summer bike racing, and keep on going.

From there, you arrive in what can reasonably considered Portland, and there’s really not much else to report.  It’s still another 3-4 miles to home, but it’s boring (in the good sort of way).  It’s like Portland is laid out for bike use or something.  You even see other bike commuters.  Cars happily give you the right of way.  Weird.

We’ll see how it goes.  Once my morning commute is plunged into darkness as well, riding to work may completely fall out of favor.  The ride home is not quite as dangerous as I’ve made it out to seem, but it’s certainly somewhat hectic at times.  I just hope the slight boost in fitness is greater than the negative effects of the amount of car exhaust I get to breathe on the way there and back.