Big Mike In Oz

I’m finally finding a routine again after a fairly tumultuous 6 months.  Today was the final day of week 3 of my final 10 week teaching practicum.  I’ll repeat that for those of you that are asleep at the wheel.

FINAL PRACTICUM.

Yes, this whole term I’m teaching.  Actually I’m teaching at a high school 25km away.  A nice 20 minute drive most days.  Today was the sports carnival so since I didn’t have to haul a bunch of books down and back I decided to ride.

I decided yesterday.  So yesterday I rode for 20km after work just to remind my legs what it’s like to pedal.  They needed it.  From the state championships mid-March until yesterday I have only ridden 905km.  That’s 201km/mth.  That sucks.

But as I sit here typing I’ve now ridden 70km in 2 days.  And the first sentence of this post is key… I think I’m in a stable place now so it’s likely I’ll be riding to work and back at least a couple of times a week.  That on top of hitting the velodrome one afternoon a week and riding with the junior development squad Saturday mornings and the regular club race Sunday should see me hitting 600+km/mth.  Maybe even 800.

That’s not big numbers unless you remember that my 2 favourite events last 12 and 50 seconds respectively.  So as long as I use my 600 carefully, I should gain hugely from the exposure to the bike and road.  Quality not quantity.

I’m still buzzing on the phrase FINAL PRACTICUM.  3 weeks down out of 10.  Week 10 is the week before spring holidays so it’s all throwing Frisbees and doing crosswords.  Either week 8 or 9 will be my on the job interview where a teacher other than my mentor teacher will come in and watch me run several lessons and decide what rating I’ll achieve.  That rating is the rank order for job placements next year for the state education department.

All I know is that this week both my mentor teachers have said “you’re doing fine”.  Their only advice has been that my lessons are still a little too much of me doing all the work and the students being at best passive and at worst inactive.  Apparently my lessons are very entertaining but very teacher centred.

Teacher centred.  The kiss of death of modern pedagogy (look it up).  So I have 4 weeks to increase my student engagement before my entire 4 year degree is boiled down to a single 1 digit rating number.  Not that I’m worried.  I’m flexible and confident so everything will be fine.  And if it’s not fine then I’ve always got the old fall back… I’m a physics major and there is such an acute shortage of physics teachers that I really only need to have a pulse to qualify.  Hopefully I don’t suck so much that I have to play that card.

A couple of months ago my 2 boys competed in their first ever open cycling event; an event that can be contested by anyone with a current domestic racing licence.  It was also an event specifically for juniors so the oldest riders competing turn 16 some time in 2008.  It was a fantastic event with the kids racing a time trial in the morning and a criterium in the afternoon.

My boys, as new and inexperienced competitors were comfortably at the back of their respective age groups.  They were excited just to be there and having a go and on the trip home the post race debriefing contained questions like “did you have fun” and “did you do your best”.

That’s all I expect.  Endeavour and enjoyment.  Achievement will come with time. 

Tonight I was going through some of the photographs of that race and discovered the scourge of the junior peleton.  It’s similar to the over-exuberance displayed by football parents fighting on the sidelines or abusing officials.

The only difference is that in cycling there are other ways to over compensate for your own shortcomings.  While living vicariously through your child is a normal phase in adult life, cycling offers other ways to go to excess.

I have attached a photograph of the issue at hand.  It’s the if you can’t fix it with a hammer get a bigger hammer syndrome.  Like I said early on this was a junior carnival.  These are just kids.  Actual kids.

The original purpose of the photograph when I aimed the camera was to save for posterity the bizarre position my 13 year old occasionally assumes when pedalling – namely that pictured (he’s centre frame in orange) riding right on the nose of the saddle with the point of the seat under his right hip joint.  Always the right.  Who knows. 

My 2 boys are very new to the sport so I’m not using them as a benchmark.  In fact apart from the consumables (tyres, tubes, cables, bar tape) their bikes are both Frankenstein’s monster machines cobbled together using parts much closer to 20 years old than new.

On the other hand I don’t deny people the right to buy new stuff.  In fact I’ve got a shopping list for my kid’s bikes as soon as I finish studying in 12 weeks and 4 days (tick tock).  Very first on that list is to give them 10 gears to work with.  Currently 1 runs 9, the other 8 and because of their ages they both have the bottom 2 locked out.  Shimano make 10spd blocks starting at 14, 15, 16 so a couple of clusters, chains and 105 lever sets isn’t a big deal to move them from 6/7 to 10.  But that’s about $300 per bike.  Not a small amount but neither am I going out to buy them each a carbon fibre, full Dura-ace road bike and matching TT bike.

Where am I going with this?  Let’s look at the photo now.

What I didn’t notice on the day was the level of equipment used by some of these competitors.  I mentioned there was a TT.  On the left of the photo is the tail section of a bike.  Not just any bike though.  It’s a Cervelo P3C.  Just like Fabian Cancellara has ridden to multiple world TT championships.  Click that first link and then down on the right margin click the pricing tab.  That’s right, US$3300.  Not for a bike, just a naked frame.  Rules relating to juniors prevent the use of disc wheels or wheels with rim sections deeper than 45mm, otherwise I’m sure I’d be looking at a P3C with Zipp 808s.

Today I rode the mountain of my discontent (top left, click show then elevation profile) for only the 3rd time this year.  Fortunately for my ego I didn’t have to ride against the clock today because I was chaperoning the juniors.  My first visit this year was a solo 27:46.  Next was as a junior chaperone in May when my 9 year old in sneakers managed a 33:57 for which I was thankful.  The same day my 13 year old also in sneakers bailed after 3km of the almost 7km climb. 

I’ve brought the boys into the 21st century and they are now riding Look Keo pedals and Vittoria shoes.  Today Mr9 pulled the plug at just under 4km; probably because of a belly full of cake from a birthday party the day before.  Mr13 took some coaxing but made it all the way under his own steam in 39:40.  Again I was grateful because at a slightly grotesque 120kg, I’m running 12kg (27lb) heavier than March.

This is the same climb that was recently contested as stage 3 of the Tour de Sunshine Coast with the slowest Masters D grade competitor finishing in 28:11.  Yes slowest.  And that time includes a 1.5km lead up to the actual climb.  The same climb that I consistently broke 17 minutes on as a teenager.

The names of the adults have been masked to protect the outcomes.  If a real name appears, it’s a kid, and by definition reasonably young.  There was one 16 year old, one 14 year old and the rest were under 13.

Here was me thinking I was a cycling guru.  Then I’m wheezing and puffing up the slightest incline cursing all the surplus calories I’ve inhaled at the campus cafeteria.

And worse than all that is my habits.  All my good habits.  Riding habits.  Are gone.  I was 5 minutes down the road yesterday when I realised I didn’t have gloves or glasses.  I spent the whole miserable ride pondering the stupidity that caused me to have to squint into the glare and shaking the numbness out of alternating hands.

I hope I get smart again in a hurry.

It is with a ponderous hand that I write this.  It is with a shamed hand that I publicise this.  It is with a resolute hand that I move beyond this.

Found:
12kg I neither wanted nor asked for.

Lost:
All semblance of cardiovascular fitness.
2/3 of my legendary leg strength.

Something happened this January which I wasn’t prepared for.  I rode the track season hard.  I haven’t ridden a full track season since 1989.  It felt good.  I got some strong results.  One of my road trips even paid for itself.  But at the end of the track season there was no reason to drive 50km each way to the velodrome 3 times a week – especially with petrol prices where they are.  And there was university starting back.

The previous year, and the one before that, I’d used January as a big base for a good high (for me) mileage year.  And the weight curve showed it. 
Jan-May ‘06 14kg loss.  Jun-Dec ’06 10kg gain.
Jan-May ‘07 12kg loss.  Jun-Dec ’07 5kg gain.
Jan-May ‘08 9kg gain.  Jun-Dec ’08 who knows.

All I know is that I didn’t gain anywhere near as much over winter/spring last year as I did the previous year.  I’m going to aim to beat that plus take back some of what I didn’t do this summer/autumn.  Last Tuesday was my final ever university exam.  I’ve got half a dozen assignments to write in the next 10 days then I have 2 weeks of fulltime lectures followed by a 14 week practicum and that’s all she wrote.  A fully qualified high school physics teacher will pop out the other end.

It should be easy.  I’ve got all the confidence of my achievements from last track season and I’ll be starting very specific training in July after 2 weeks of just reacquainting my legs with the process of going around.  The best part is that my prac is 25km down the reasonably flat highway so if I get the babysitting details sorted out I can pedal up and down thus saving some $30 a week in petrol and putting in a reasonable base on the bike.  All that’s needed on top of that will be the regular Wednesday nights at the velodrome and probably a weekend visit as well.

After the escapades of Unholy-rouleur Jim last year, folding his chainring over doing intervals.  Twice.  I was given some hints (salt in the wound) by the mongrel who beat me out of the sprint bronze at the state titles that I should be doing standing starts with the sole aim of folding chainrings.  Hi Jim.  I wasn’t sure if it fell into the same category so I didn’t bother to tell him that I recently snapped my pedal axle on a standing start.

I also didn’t bother to tell him that all of my bikes have old crank sets on them.  Why.  Why would someone with limited time and money spend hours trawling eBay for 20 year old cranks.  Simple.  144mm PCD.  You can’t fold a chainwheel if the flimsy chainwheel doesn’t have to support itself.  144PCD means the big fat crank spider is taking all the strain and the chainwheel is just a circle.  All these new cranks with 130mm or even 110mm PCD means that the flimsy chainwheel must reach down to attach to the crank arm, exposing the victim – ahem, owner – to unnecessary flex.

2 things.

1. Don’t come around here trying to tell me it’s BCD because as my good friend Dave at Daromi Cycles told me PCD is engineering speak for Pitch Centre Diameter.  The fact that bike riders have claimed it and maimed it and twisted it to Bolt Centre Diameter doesn’t make it right.

2. If I can use 1800 watts to take almost 120kg from zero to 60km/h in 150 metres without folding a chainring, why would I spend money changing PCD to a less structurally sound item?  Don’t answer that, it’s rhetorical.  Plus I don’t want to hear you make a fool of yourself.

All I know is that today, day 168 of 2008, I rode only the ninth ride over 40km this year.  There’s already 98 days with a zero against the mileage for the year.  But my eyes are open now and I can smell the beginning of a good strong 9 month run to the state titles.  It has to be.  I’ll be in deep trouble at home if I’m not under 100kg and firing on all 8 cylinders (yes, of course my trackie legs are V8s) when I roll my new carbon fibre track bike out onto the launch pad in October.

Oh yeah, Dave from Daromi Cycles has already got all the measurements and specifications.  Carbon grey with red highlights.  I can’t wait.  So we end on a brighter note.

The permanent bridesmaid of Discovery/USPostal wins stage 2 of bridesmaid’s race.  He’s a loyal domestique and an amazingly tough rider but he’s long overdue for something a little more meaningful than carrying bottles or winning stages of 2^nd tier races.

I got challenged to consider what is a normal life and had to respond with this outpouring.

Dude, you picked the wrong guy on the wrong day for a “normal” discussion.

I went to bed last night at a time such that as I was in my twilight, drifting off, I was startled awake by my wifes alarm clock going off for her to go to work. Neither of us are shift workers.

because…

Yesterday daytime was 8 hours of revising quantum physics and relativity for a 3 hour end of semester exam today. Then home to referee the kids for a couple of hours before leaving for 5 hours to be the “logistics manager” at a $5000 criterium my club organises. Then home for a bit more physics revision before falling into bed at the aforementioned 4:45am. It’s now 8:20am and I’m up again and have already made 3 lots of school lunches, made 2 phone calls about the race and am now leaving to visit my mum (who had a knee replacement last week) before I dive into my physics exam at 10am.

At 4pm today I’m again the logistics manager (commonly mistaken for the race directors gopher), this time for the Tour de Sunshine Coast, 4 days of pain for which the term logistics manager must be considered interchangable with “general dog’s body” and/or “co-defendant” if the s&$t hits the fan.

All of which pales into insignificance compared to your “normal”.

I give thanks for my wife and 3 children who love me and each other.

I give heartfelt best wishes to the battling Nelsons and bow down before their ability to perform “normally” in the face of their current challenges.

Who am I?  This is a very superficial question. 

Elsewhere, like in some bike forums in my home state, I fly under the banner Big and Shiny - on the premise "Big, that's me. Shiny, that's my head" (look at my profile photo if you don't get it).  That means that in the inherently lazy manner of many forum frequenters I sign off my posts with an abbreviation of my alias.  Namely, B&S.

So, who am I?

B&S would be loosely described as an acronym of Big and Shiny.

B&S is also a homonym.  Of itself… by definition.

But B&S is also an acronym of Bald and Smelly (thank you to my dear colleague for that one).

So my handle is an acronym of a homonym of an acronym of a duality of personal physical flaws.

Oh what a tangled web we weave through this spitefully complex language.

Ms 7 first… I was a couple of minutes late going to collect her from school this afternoon.  Nothing unusual there except that for the first time her bike wasn’t locked (I didn’t notice the lock was missing until we had ridden all the way there this morning) so she had taken it upon herself to ride home.  I met her just short of halfway riding side by side with another 7 year old from her class who lives in the next street to us.  His parents were trailing along 50 metres behind fortunately.  But she’s getting mighty independent all the same.

And the boys…I was excited at the start of the year when Mr 9 asked if he could start racing like me.  That was January, and he went to a few skills sessions on the ride-to-school-beater accompanied by Mr 13 on a similar rig.  When they stuck with it for more than a month I asked if they were going to keep it up and got 2 big smiles and nods. 

So I started looking around for bikes.  The junior development officer of the club sourced a 650c road bike that became ours for $300.  I then set about Frankensteining my parts bin and an old frame into something decent for the second.  That was late February and they’re still at it.  Decent bikes but ridden in sneakers with old toe clips and toe straps.

So last week I took the next step and found some good pedals and second hand shoes.  I set them all up on Tuesday while the boys were at school.  When I got home from uni they were out riding around the street and after nearly 2 solid hours neither of them had had the awkward experience of failing to unclip and taking the slow-mo topple that usually accompanies a first exposure to this technology.

Now the garage has even less hope of fitting cars in it.  Between my 4 bikes, the boys 3 each and my daughters 2 there’s barely room to store the lawn mower, let alone a pair of family sedans.

Here I sit in a pool of tears diluted with blood.  There’s some pix at the bottom.

All I know is that I’m glad what happened didn’t happen Friday when I was doing standing starts.  0-55km/h in a 53x17 would not have ended well if it had coincided with shearing a pedal axle.  I’m not sure when I bought the pedal but it’s around 2 years ago so I’m stuffed for warranty.  I’ll send Look the pedal and a nice calm letter and see what happens.  I would have hoped that when the pedals reached the end of their working life they could have signalled me with a rough bearing or a broken spring rather than breaking a chrome-moly axle.

Just as fortunate as not happening during an interval session is that it also didn’t happen on the Saturday group ride of 80+ that I was plannin