A ride with a daughter on Father’s Day

By Christopher Cudworth

“I might like to go for a bike ride,” she told me.

“Well, your mother’s bike is pretty sweet,” I replied. “It’s a Trek Navigator 2.0. A nice trail bike.”

We lost her mother to cancer in March. Emerging from that event has been done in fits and starts. Now my daughter wants to share some time with me on the bike.

The next thing I knew she was standing beside me in her post-college-girl getup. Green shorts and matching bandanna. A frat shirt from a fundraiser ever. Cruiser sunglasses. And off we went.

The last time we’d ridden together on bikes was probably 2003. She was 10 years younger then. 13 years old. Not yet a woman, but getting there

Now she’s 23 and making decisions in the world. Job hunting, successfully it seems. And making plans for her own place in the city.

The bike ride is even tempo and something like happiness kicks in as I watch her ride in front of me. Later she would say, “I did all the leading.” Because she knows a bit about drafting from watching the Tour and other bike races with me.

But this is a mellow father/daughter ride on a Sunday afternoon––that just happens to be the day of the year we call Father’s Day.

Branded Clunker

Her original bike was this 40 lb. clunker of a machine made by Eddier Bauer or LL Bean. Whatever. It is… Heavy, heavy. She didn’t like riding it, and for good reason. It is heavier than those Schwinn monsters from the 1960.

The Trek Navigator is much lighter, and rolls along smoothly. She points out scenes of interest with her photographer’s eye. She’s riding with me. And I’m happy. There’s something charming in her open riding style. Neither of us has helmets on.  Didn’t need them. She’s cautious and smart at the intersections of trails. Avoids crowds of people on the trail. She’s as good a rider as she is a driver. And she’s a good one.

At home she’s slightly tired and the shower beckons. It was a hot day and I’m sweating too. The dog greets us feverishly because God Forbid we’ve been gone for 30 minutes.

I hear the shower go on. The girl loves the heat but hates to sweat. She might move to Austin, Texas someday. All part of a bigger picture.

During the ride I heard her ask about riding other places. Places she’d like to go. Near and far. The bike can take you anywhere you want to go, daughter. Along with some networking, and a little luck.

Ride on, my daughter, ride on.

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Lance Armstrong making reported comeback for 2013 Tour de France

By Christophe Cudowerth, Famouse French Cycling Journaliste

Well, we knew it had to happen. Lance Armstrong is making yet another comeback in time for the 2013 Tour de France.

If you haven’t heard about the comeback, it’s because Lance has been in stealth training mode, living like the Sylvester Stallone character in Rocky IV when the mythical Italian Stallion retreated to a cold, Spartan existence in the Russian wilderness, using old-time training methods to get in shape to beat the world.

Secret training methods

Lance Armstrong trains in the high Rockies pulling a sled with Chris Carmichael on board.

Lance Armstrong trains in the high Rockies pulling a sled with Chris Carmichael on board.

Inside sources say Armstrong hid in the northwest Rocky Mountains (get the pun?) riding steep ascents up and down while carrying burlap sacks of Colorado red rocks on his back to strengthen his already massive thighs and get him ready for what promises to be a mountainous Tour de France this year.

Watch out Bradley Wiggins. Lance is back. Tell your teammate Chris Froome to watch out for Lance too. He’s back. He’s pissed. And there’s no telling what the Too Tested Texan will do this time around.

How he got in

Armstrong gained a rare solo entry to this year’s tour by enacting a long-ago provision included in a contract with the UCI in which the cyclist and his lawyers inserted a provision that stated if he was ever banned from the sport for any reason, he would get a Mulligan, much like you get in casual golf games.

Recently Armstrong cashed in that Mulligan, written as it was on the back of a napkin from a French Hotel.

The stained napkin on which Lance Armstrong wrote the legal agreement that got him back into the Tour de France 2013

The stained napkin on which Lance Armstrong wrote the legal agreement that got him back into the Tour de France 2013

To the shock and dismay of the UCI and the Tour de France organizers, Armstrong showed up at a lunchtime meeting between the two cycling powerhouses holding that coffee-stained napkin on which the Mulligan agreement was scrawled. There were signs of bicycle grease on the napkin, and actual fingerprints from the parties involved who signed the unusual provisional agreement that will gain access for Armstrong to this year’s Tour. Those fingerprints were what gave the semi-legal document its credence with cycling’s top tier management.

No team? No problem

Of course Armstrong needs a team to actually compete in the Tour, and he knew that it might come to this some day, so he planned ahead.

Lance was wise enough to put a little asterisk at the bottom of the handwritten napkin that said his solo ride could be multiplied by 5 in the event of a team time trial event in the year of his Mulligan comeback.

Lance Armstrong Power Peanuts. Marshmallow laced with Protein and who knows what else.

Lance Armstrong Power Peanuts. Marshmallow laced with Protein and who knows what else.

Yet there are competing rumors that says former teammate and confessed doper Floyd Landis signed up to ride for Armstrong, who, lacking team sponsors, has been selling special edition boxes of Protein-Laced Power Peanuts to pay for his travel and hotel. Reportedly the product is selling well enough to set Lance up with a bright orange Trek Bike with the logo Power Peanuts on the tube. It looks pretty cool.

Armstrong may have signed up legendary American cyclist Alexi Grewal as well, who last year attempted a comeback of his own at the age of 50.

“It’s fun riding with Alexi,” Armstrong said in a Tweet sent round the world. “He makes me feel young again.”

Hatred a powerful engine

Tyler Hamilton: "I still hate Lance."

Tyler Hamilton: “I still hate Lance.”

The final cog in the Tour of American Legends is Tyler Hamilton, who has come out of his owned forced retirement to ride on Armstrong’s team. “We need a little hate on the squad to motivate us,” Armstrong admits. “Tyler brings that vital component to the Tour squad, if we ride.”

As for the lifetime doping ban that would have kept Lance Armstrong from competing in the Tour or any other bike race for the rest of his life, apparently there is enough pending television revenue riding on the return of Armstrong that the UCI and other governing organizations have agreed to just look the other way, just this once.

“C’mon,” admitted Pat McQuaid, President of the Union Cyclistes Internationals (UCI), “Aren’t you just a little curious to see what he can do? Especially after riding up and down the Rockies with those bags of rocks on his back?

Killing it on Colbert?

Others are not so enthusiastic. Many in the cycling world remain disgusted by the facts behind Armstrong’s doping confession. Some are petulantly angry that he chose to talk to Oprah and get half weepy about it rather than go on Stephen Colbert and get skewered for being a shallow, stupid lousy liar. But at least that would have been funny. Watching Armstrong squeeze his tight face to keep from farting under all that pressure spilling his guts on Oprah was less than comfortable for everybody watching.

So how will Lance compete in the Tour, given that his team will likely be nothing more than a loose coalition of ad hoc riders, all reformed dopers on other teams,  perhaps willing to pull for Lance when the going gets tough?

Should make for some interesting commentary, to say the least, from the likes of Phil Liggett, who is rumored to have Alzheimer’s disease and has been announcing this year’s race nearly six months in advance of the start of the actual event.

At least he can rave about the French Chateaus. Those are timeless.

 

We Run and Ride. So do you. Let's share original thoughts.

We Run and Ride. So do you. Let’s share original thoughts.

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Busy doin’ nothin’ till we run and ride

It’s great when you get on a training roll and time seems to expand to allow you the freedom and focus to ride or run everyday. But of course it doesn’t always work that way.

Busy Doin’ Nothin’

I had to fix a lot of things this morning
‘Cause they were so scrambled
But now it’s okay
I tell you I’ve got enough to do

photoThere are also those times when training becomes impossible to accomplish. Life doesn’t just intervene. It dominates. You’re lucky if you get one ride in on the weekend and one run in during the week.

The afternoon was filled up with phone calls
What a hot sticky day, yeah yeah yeah
The air is cooling down

You’re so busy with other stuff that you can’t train. Can’t even think about racing. Racing without training is just needless suffering.

Take all the time you need
It’s a lovely night
If you decide to come
You’re gonna do it right

So you’re caught, for the meantime. Busy doin’ nothing.

Such was the case this past week, which kicked off with a giant fun party on a Sunday afternoon that lasted well into the night. My daughter finished college and she deserved a celebration and we had one. 80-90 people showed up, all ready to drink and talk and listen to national class bands and play beer pong.

Drive for a couple miles
You’ll see a sign and turn left
For a couple blocks
Next is mine, you’ll turn left on a little road
It’s a bumpy one

Tr

I found a pair of beat up drum sticks in the recycling bin this morning. Had no idea how much abuse a pair of drums sticks gets during a 1 –hour performance, but I pulled them out of the garbage because they’re a genuine keepsake. The group Gold House is going places this year, a gig on Warped Tour to be exact, and the fact that they played their tour set for 80 people in our basement had me so psyched it was hard to believe it was happening.

You’ll see a white fence
Move the gate and drive through on the left side
Come right in
And you’ll find me in my house somewhere
Keeping busy while I wait

But that meant no running on Sunday. Too much prep for the party.

On Monday it was everything we could do to clean up.

Tuesday there was a meeting after work.

Wednesday was supposed to be a date downtown. Then the weather turned nasty and that was impossible.

I get a lot of thoughts in the morning
I write ’em all down
If it wasn’t for that
I’d forget ’em in a while

Thursday was a walk with the kids and a little ritual of distributing my wife’s ashes on our favorite spot in a prairie. Dinner too.

And lately I’ve been thinking ’bout a good friend
I’d like to see more of, yeah yeah yeah
I think I’ll make a call

Finally on Friday morning the running shoes somehow got on my feet and I went for a 25:00 run along the river. It has been a week or so since I last ran that trail and the plant growth was evident. We went from spring to summer in that short span. Lots of rain.

I wrote a number down
But I lost it
So I searched through my pocket book
I couldn’t find it
So I sat and concentrated on the number
And slowly it came to me
So I dialed it

And I let it ring a few times
There was no answer
So I let it ring a little more
Still no answer

It’s been a week of being busy doin’ nothing. Tomorrow morning there’s a bike ride scheduled. 2+ hours on the country roads, far away from things that need to be done.

So I hung up the telephone
Got some paper and sharpened up a pencil
And wrote a letter to my friend

(Italicized lyrics from the song Busy Doin’ Nothin’ by the Beach Boys/Brian Wilson)

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Singing along as we run and ride

By Christopher Cudworth

guitarOn a recent Saturday afternoon a band called What’s On Tap made it’s world debut on a stage perched at the edge of a wooded property where rose-breasted grosbeaks and purple finches sang background vocals in the trees.

The lead singer, rhythm guitarist and bass player were all cycling friends of mine. Each musician is in his late 40s or early 50s. They got the idea for this band while riding, then recruited a couple other musicians including a rocking lead guitarist and set about rehearsing for a year.

Formation

The group had fits and starts getting ready for their first performance. Everyone was busy with life and the lead guitarist had lots of other musical commitments.

But somehow it all came together. Their set included covers of the Black Keyes and the Rolling Stones. The band was tight, the singer capable and the crowd cheered after every song.

There were 50 or so band “groupies” hanging out at the party to see the world premiere of What’s On Tap. One pretty gal held up a sign that said, “I love the bassist.” She happened to be his wife.

Posterity

The rest of us used our iPhones to record the moment for posterity. One semi-official videographer held up what looked like a military grade weapon that was in fact a handheld digital movie camera to record the entire concert. “I think I hit REC…” he said.

Prior history

The lead singer has always been one of those cyclists who break out in song during our longer rides. He doesn’t always get the lyrics right while out on the bike. In fact he never has. I’ve run with him for 40 years since we were high school teammates in cross country and track. We ran in college together too, and lived in a cool little apartment at 1764 N. Clark in Chicago. Those were wild times. He was into grad school and I was into something else, running mostly, and we shared other things as well. Through it all he’d often belt out songs happily butchering the lyrics. The Police. The Eagles. Lucinda Williams. Whatever came to mind, or fit the situation.

Once we were walking together in Madison, Wisconsin during a celebration following the Badgers victory in the national hockey championships. We looked up to see the finest shape in a pair of white blue jeans we’d ever seen. Turning to each other simultaneously, we burst into song, a bit by the Talking Heads…”The world moves on a woman’s hips…the world moves and it swivels and bops….” AAAAAAAHHHH we laughed. Synchronicity.

And during the debut of What’s On Tap, he was spot on with lyrics, the notes. He was, in a word or two, reasonably awesome.

Good job, mate.

Standards

The arc from those long ago experiences running together as kids… to the present day has included weddings, the birth of our children and even a few funerals. We’re old, by some standards. Yet we’re young by so many others.

Riding makes us feel that way. Younger. Typically.

Running, not so much. It’s much tougher to run as fast as you used to once you turn 50 years old. Riding’s a bit easier if you use your experience and pedal with some degree of intelligence.

Kudos

I thought about all those things as my friends worked through their set of well-rehearsed songs. They played well. My singer friend did a very credible job on some very difficult songs. He even dedicated a song to a couple of us in the crowd. The lyrics go like this:

I see those girls go by dressed in their summer clothes...

I see those girls go by dressed in their summer clothes…

“I see the girls go by dressed in their summer clothes…

I have to turn my head until my darkness goes…”

Then I turned my head to the comely woman companion who had joined me as a friend to listen to the band. She smiled, happily. It was a warm afternoon at the start of summer. We are the same age, or just about. And that’s good. The way it should be. You can still sing the songs of youth, or listen to them, without having to wish you could go back.

Because you can’t. It’s like pedaling a bicycle backwards. You go nowhere.

Pedaling forward

It is far better to pedal forward, and to pick up an instrument or a microphone and make the sense of the music you know how to sing. Reinvent yourself in the process. Dare yourself into singing your heart out in front of 50 or more people who don’t really know what to expect.

These things make sense together. We run and ride because going forward is the principal thing we know how to do. Singing as we go.

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Tattoo you: more to the picture than meets the eye

For a long time I’ve sort of resisted the idea that tattoos are beautiful or necessary.

Yet a number of recent experiences have convinced me that something interesting and good may be going on with the entire world of tattoos. But first, some perspective.

NBA tattoos. Necessary or a sign of insecurity?

NBA tattoos. Necessary or a sign of insecurity?

On NBA players, they often seem like overkill. Frankly, the whole NBA scene seems vain and inglorious. Despite its seeming height of popularity, the sport seems desperate for attention in all the wrong ways. The many-tattooed players are basically preening for each other like a bunch of battle-worn birds. Behind the scenes, the massive party logic and wild spending of the NBA, and NFL as well, has been exposed for what it is. A fragile and often lonesome game of magnified chance. Players given everything in life blowing through all limits to express their rage at good fortune. Some make it through. Others lose it all. Many proceed to live on the reputation of having been a pro athlete, which is supposedly everyone’s dream.

Down the road

But it makes me wonder what will happen to many of these tattooed players 30 years down the road, if they live that long. When their bodies sag or bloat as many do, how will those tattoos look then?

So many millions of people are getting tattoos that it is not merely imitative of characters in the NBA. Most tattoo wearers make careful choices about what they put on their bodies. Some women choose a demure place to get something significant. Some guys wrap their arms in dramatic style. But they can always cover it up for work.

Transformative meeting

Recently I met a gal in our workplace cafeteria who has a sweet-looking tattoo on her calf. It opened a conversation and it turned out we had something in common in cycling. She’s a mountain biker, and an apparently good one at that. I can make no such claim, yet it was interesting to learn that behind her sweet smile and our casual jokes there resided a person of considerable depth and strength of character.

She could kick my butt on the mountain bike trail or any other time she liked.

She could kick my butt on the mountain bike trail or any other time she liked.

She also brought to my attention through a quick social media exchange that she has an entirely different layer of personality, discipline and athleticism as well. She’s a black belt in martial arts, with big honking trophies to prove it.

The entire conversation sort of processed through the tattoo on her leg, as if it were a portal into who she really is. And that’s kind of cool. Perhaps that also explains, in a sense, how tattoos really work. They reveal a bit of the chosen soul.

It may also explain the massive decorative flair of those NBA players. They’re almost trapped in those big bodies banging into each other. But if you go through the pattern of their tattoos, perhaps the real person might emerge. The one who’s not so processed into NBA mode.

The tattoos reveal the rest of the person lurking inside the person we often get to present to the world. Okay, I’m good with that. How about you?

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What does a smashed turtle on the road really mean?

A smashed turtle should be a wakeup call to our own manner of existence.

A smashed turtle should be a wakeup call to our own manner of existence.

At the tail end of a pleasant 25 mile bike ride this past Saturday morning, I was feeling good about the new bike fit and riding with a pair of riders who happened up behind me at a stop light 15 miles earlier and asked, “Where we going?

Riding with strangers is a dance of etiquette and panache. You need to fold into their pace and riding style and at the same time pull your literal weight against the wind when it’s your turn to lead. Then there are hills to cover, and road variations that can confuse the issues of who really is setting the pace.

But these riders were cool. We pedaled at at 20-24 mph up hill and down, sharing pulls and making 10 miles of rolling terrains down Keslinger Road headed west seem like the perfect place to ride. When they pulled off to head home I said, “Thanks. I rode faster than I would have alone, for sure!”

Giving props

That’s the perfect compliment, I realized. Because rather than saying something potentially selfish or self-centered like, “Hope you guys had a good time” or whatever, a compliment that pays respect to their respective abilities is the right thing to do. Don’t disrespect the peloton no matter how small or large it may be.

And that experience made what came next even more jarring. On the trip back to Batavia on Main Street, the road passed by a series of forest preserves and ponds. And as bad luck and nature would have it, there were smashed turtles along the road. I counted six in just 6 miles.

A snapping turtle that had crawled 800 yards from a glacial marsh winds up dead by the side of the road.

A snapping turtle that had crawled 800 yards from a glacial marsh winds up dead by the side of the road.

They were snapping turtles and painted turtles. Both are moving across the land to lay eggs in a remote spot where their eggs can hatch. Amazingly, those young turtles that do hatch will find their way back to water eventually. They’ve been doing the same routine for millions and millions of years. Forget Noah’s Ark. The really miraculous acts of nature are found in turtles and frogs and birds and insects that make humble but vital journeys every second of every day, and have been doing that for billions of years. Life is far more important and alive than a fable about some supposedly bearded dude that saved nature from a flood. That’s so freaking naive it begs debate. But in the stead of that longer argument, I submit the photos attached with this article. Smashed turtles are a sign that we human beings are truly disconnected both from nature and reality.

Disconnected reality

Our technology is responsible for this disconnection. We trust it to make billions of decisions for us every day. And when you are hurtling down the road at 60 miles an hour you cannot possibly appreciate the drama of a turtle crossing that road. So the tire strikes the turtle and crushes it’s carefully evolved shell. Another spot of road kill. Another unfulfilled mission. Another evolutionary decision made without much thought. Fortunately or unfortunately, that’s a part of how evolution works. The turtle might not have technically “made a bad decision” in a cognizant fashion but the combination of instincts that led it to a path across a busy road are now erased. The turtle’s potential offspring will never exist. And that’s how nature “improves” upon itself, if you want to call it that.

The harsh facts

Of course 99.9% of all types of living things that have ever existed are now extinct from this world. Some speculate that turtles and frogs, especially, may be headed down that dark road right this minute. Dozens of frog species up and down Central America are vanishing due to a persistent fungus that kills frogs.

So we live in a world full of random decisions. Yet as I looked at those smashed turtles it became evident to me that in a heartbeat, I could look just like one of those turtles with my guts spilled out on the road. All it takes is a texting motorist and bam, the bike and I are thrown 30 feet into the ditch. Worse yet, all it takes is one road rage incident and lives are changed forever. It’s very sad. People indeed have lost all connection to the value of life, their own, or that of others. But religion itself isn’t the cure. It takes both religion and common sense. The two often seem to avoid each other.

Human detritus

It happens. Give or take a few human lives, there are 600+ cyclists killed on the road every year. Compared to a speeding car, even the fastest cyclist clipping along at 30 miles an hour is still slow. The average serious cyclist rides half that fast. Then the number of riders who go much, much slower in traffic is massive.

But a slow rider is no more a target than a speedy cyclist. Same goes with runners. It’s not pace that matters, because that is obviously a relative factor in car/bike or car/runner accidents.

It’s all about attention, and arrogance. The idea that a motorist somehow “owns” the road over a runner or a rider is absurd to a bloody well insane degree. We all occupy this planet for a very short time. The notion that because you have to swerve for 2 seconds to get around a cyclist or a runner is somehow an inconvenience is a disturbing, disgusting form of hubris.

Remember, you’re not even safe in your car or truck. Millions of people every year die in traffic accidents. Evolution doesn’t care how smart you think you are. Evolution only “cares” in the sense that your decisions and your indecisions can cost you dearly. When you become a statistic, or turn someone else into a statistic, you are inextricably linked to a process that does not care whether you live or die.

Holy crap that hurts

You can deny it on a stack of Bibles or a holy Koran, but the fact is, God rather likes the evolutionary process. It’s a highly effective way to remind us that life is indeed precious, but only to the point where you an effectively protect it. At some point we all have to give up our lives, and life itself is a pre-existing condition. Cancer is as random as a traffic accident. A flock of hummingbirds crossing from the Yucatan to Texas can get caught in a storm and all be blown into the merciless waves.

What matters is our consideration of life. And consideration of others. Thats’ the real message of both evolution and God. Our brains make us capable of these distinctions. Let’s use them wisely. At all times.

And put down the smartphone. It’s really not a highly evolved form of communication. It’s merely a distraction from turtles crossing the road.

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What the hell do you know about mountain biking?

By Christopher Cudworth

The thing about mountain biking is that to do it right, you had better know what the hell you’re doing.

A mountain bike will stay on the trail if you make it do that. But it really wants to go elsewhere.

A mountain bike will stay on the trail if you make it do that. But it really wants to go elsewhere.

Wander off on the wrong trail and kiddo, there’s no easy way back. Rocks and drops and switchbacks to tear your legs off. Real mountain biking requires skills that your run-of-the-mill cyclist who owns a mountain bike but doesn’t ride off the road much simply don’t have.

Different DNA

Real mountain bikers are made from different kinds of stuff than the typical round tire grass knockers (like me) who ride mountain bikes off the road but not where mountain bikes actually were designed to go.

But the dream persists.

In fact recently I met this cute girl with an awesome tattoo on her calf whose sturdy thighs told me, in no uncertain terms, that I probably could not keep up with her on the mountain biking trails we had just been discussing in the lunchroom.

We both live in the Chicago suburbs, so that means there are only a few really good places for real good mountain bikers to go.

One of the best sites for mountain bike trails is in the Palos area where glacial moraine hills make mountain biking pretty fun. I know this because the little graphic designer friend with a black Volkswagon Whatever and a bike rack on top told me it was one of the best areas around. The attached video didn’t show anything I couldn’t do on my mountain bike. But I’m pretty sure the trails shown were some of the milder stuff you can find. That I could hack.

When I went down there to ride I stayed off the single track but rode a trail loop through a forest preserve where at one point the climb was so steep my back tire could get no traction. Clipped into my SPDs, it was pedal or die. So I pedaled and made it up a hill steep enough that my nose was basically scraping the gravel ahead, and topping out on the flat above, adrenaline coursing through my veins and vanity, it definitely felt like I had accomplished something. And had I gone backwards, there would have been no living with myself. A cyclist with any degree of respectability does not go backwards under most circumstances.

Facing a test

Perhaps my cute cafeteria gal with the cool tattoo would swing right up that hill no problem. I get that. Real mountain bikers ride terrain that makes the rest of us piss our pants. They cross log piles too, without impaling the their crankset on a log. That’s both a literal phrase and a euphemism, if you catch my drift.

A rock from a different age still lingers on the burnt, wet prairie.

Mountain bikes like odd places. That’s why odd people ride them. Because it’s fun.

The last time I jumped a log my rear tire went hissssss with a pinch flat. That meant I had to walk home three miles because I wasn’t carrying a spare. I know. Dumb, right? But honestly I’d never had a flat on my mountain bike in 8 years of owning it. So give me a freaking break. I’d come to believe that bike was impervious to damage. All cyclists know there is a first for everything.

What cool-chickie cafeteria gal also probably knows about mountain biking is that it takes a certain daring nature to really ride the rough turf. And then she tweaked me by saying, “I don’t know if you could keep up with me.”

And it set me back a step. Anyone with a tattoo the size of a good sized bass on her calf must have a respectable tolerance for pain. Perhaps she was right. Maybe I couldn’t keep up. I’ve been dusted by plenty of women on the road bike. Gals who rip along at 26mph on the open road and leave only a whiff of their healthy fit gal smell on the wind as they cruise on by. You can either jump in their draft and go with it or make that pathetic little wave cyclists use when they know they’re not up to the pace.

Stepping up

You can get wet, cold and dirty on a mountain bike and not feel guilty. At all.

You can get wet, cold and dirty on a mountain bike and not feel guilty. At all.

Yet I have been known, on more than one instance, to rise to to new level of endurance and toughness when the occasion demands. My competitive nature and talents can be aroused by just such a challenge.

For example, my daughter once asked me to chaperone a date with a 9th grader when she was in 7th grade. I agreed, and we all went bowling together. The first game the kid dusted me 190 to 165. And then he did a dumb thing. He got all cocky and patronizing with me.

The next game I bowled 7 or 8 straight strikes and rolled to a 280+ game. To which my daughter hissed, “Are you insane?”

Yes, my little girl. Your father is quite insane. My brothers used to call me The Mink, and for good reason. Once I got spitting mad and the competitive juices started flowing, the ‘game on’ insanity was not far out of reach. I embraced it gladly, like a McDonald’s hamburger following an all-day workout. One does not care if food is healthy or not when famishment drives the soul. It’s the same with self respect and being challenged. You will eat your young to win if someone pats you condescendingly on the back and says, “Nice try. You did your best.”

Hungry for dirt

So while mountain biking is not my preferred diet for cycling, you could put a trail in front of me and who knows what could happen? If the chickie-babe tattoo cafeteria girl rides off into the sunset without me I will accept the fate and acknowledge that she, and millions of other women to be honest, are better cyclists than I.

But neither will I go down without trying my damndest. And it’s not about “beating a girl” or anything stupid like that. It’s about breaking out of your own expectations.

A healthy touch of insanity

It simply takes a little touch of insanity to be good at any sort of competitive sport, especially solo sports, because you have to put in a certain amount of time thrashing yourself alone to be good at a sport like cycling.

But mountain biking is a whole new realm of insane. If you really know what you’re doing––then you really don’t, in a way. Riding the right kind of trail where your senses are challenged to keep up is a matter of reacting and accepting that your next big jump could cost you some skin or a bone or two.

Okay, I’m not ready to go there. The Mink knows better now. But given the challenge of chasing a tattooed gal up a suburban hill, I just might.

I just might.

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How running and riding help conquer your fears

By Christopher Cudworth

Fear is found in nearly every sentient creature. Including you.

Fear is found in nearly every sentient creature. Including you.

Fear is the emotion that too commonly keeps people from reaching their potential in all phases of life.

We fear failure.

We fear success.

We fear rejection.

We fear lack of will.

We fear the unknown.

We fear God. But not always in the right ways.

So, how do we overcome fear, or work with it positively?

Rehearsal breeds success

It pays to move forward through fear, however slowly.

It pays to move forward through fear, however slowly.

Rehearsal. We conquer fear by choosing to engage in things that challenge us. When we successfully overcome the challenge, fear is reduced or even eliminated.

Fear can paralyze. Fear can stultify. Fear can make us reject ourselves and others. Fear can teach us the wrong way of looking at things. Then it becomes a habit.

Anxiety is fear. Some of us are born with naturally high levels of anxiety. It affects our ability to function. It creates a flipside that sometimes results in depression. These are biological sources of fear. Rooted in the evolution of all humankind, our anxious fears are exaggerated forms of natural preparedness. A rabbit twitching in the grass, waiting to run, is heightened by anxiety. Fight or flight?

How to be a badass rabbit

But having seen rabbits fight with some ferocity, we know that rabbits are not always afraid. When called to action, a rabbit can be one badass piece of scratching fur.

And therein lies the answer to conquering our fears. We can use situational rehearsal to help us get to know our minds, recognize trigger points for fear and learn how to manage our thoughts––and fears––through “set-aside” activities like running and riding.

How does it work? Quite naturally, actually.

Cataloguing our fears

Any time you prepare for a challenging effort your mind is engaged in preparation. You begin to take in factors that could cause you to fail. But you hopefully engage in thoughts about how to succeed. The trick is how you catalog those thoughts and set them aside to help make room for the hopeful, positive thoughts that can overcome fears and negativity.

Saturday Night syndrome

We all question ourselves. But when we replace those questions with answers, we overcome our fears.

We all question ourselves. But when we replace those questions with answers, we overcome our fears.

Fear is interesting in many respects. Let’s say you’ve prepared for six months to run a marathon. On Saturday night your mind is full of good thoughts and positivity. Yet when you rise on Sunday morning it feels like a black cloud moved in overnight. All you can think about are the many things that can go wrong. Your wicked subconscious almost takes over. “I didn’t train enough. That long run three weeks ago went terrible. What if I feel like that today?”

100 miles of fear

Or perhaps you’re riding your first century. The distance is new to you. The farthest you’ve gone before is 80 miles, and that was hard. Will your body give out? Will your back grow tired and cramp up? Will you get a saddle sore and have to quit?

Just listen to yourself.

In advance of both the marathon or century ride, those negative thoughts are natural, because they express our doubts. But if you take out a piece of paper and write down all the reasons you want to succeed and all the reasons why you should succeed, it is likely you’ll find the hopes balance out the fears.

Using heightened senses to your advantage

Becoming awr

Becoming awr

Fear heightens the senses, after all. A bit of nervousness is how many athletes get up for their competition. But when nervousness flips and becomes translated only as fear, which holds you back from doing your best, then it’s vital that you “get a grip” as they say, and put those fears back into context so that you can move forward with what you want to accomplish.

Remember that piece of paper we just mentioned? Find one. Sit down right away and start writing down your fears. The very act of acting on your fears by writing them down can make a tremendous difference in overcoming anxiety and fear. Something about the physical act of writing combined with getting your thoughts down on paper help. It really does.

Not sure if writing on a smartphone works as well, but whatever…in a pinch.

Capture your fears.

Then use a column to write down all your real goals and how long you’ve prepared for your event. Even if it falls short in terms of counterbalancing your fears, there’s a massive steam valve waiting if nothing else works.

Write down these words: “I can only do my best.”

That’s both a confession and a motivation, you see. It accepts that not everything may go right, and forgives you if it doesn’t. Yet it states positively that whatever you do, you are responding the best way you know how, and giving your best because you’ve had the courage to challenge your self. Welcome the challenge and you’ll find a way to succeed. Give yourself credit for that.

Applying your best to life

We all get his with surprises. Don't let them make you nuts.

We all get his with surprises. Don’t let them make you nuts.

When facing major life events, it is often easy to become critical of ourselves and imagine we are not up to the task. I recall the moment when my mother was dying of cancer and my father, a stroke victim, needed me to take over his caregiving. Standing in his front yard before going in to discuss next steps, I realized there were no rules to guide me then. No one to tell me what to do. I could have been full of fear at that point. But all my years of rehearsing how to conquer fears through running and riding came into play. I quickly assessed the near term goals and strategies necessary to do a good job in the situation I was facing. Decisions on life and health and money would need to be made. Suddenly I felt capable.

In fact my former high school track coach called me a few days later. He’d heard that I was also facing a new challenge on top of my parent’s ill health. My wife also had cancer. “You can do it,” he told me. “Your whole life has been preparation for this.”

He knew me well, having first coached me in baseball at the tender age of 13. He also coached me in cross country and track in high school. Later we even did business together. So he’d seen me face potential fears as a 13-year-old pitcher in American Legion baseball, playing baseball against players 3 years older. But I loved the challenge. I literally had no fear. It pays to be young and stupid sometimes. But hey, whatever works.

Sensational perspective

As a high school runner enjoying some success, there came a time when a sports reporter called me a “junior sensation.” My coach corrected the writer in print by saying, “Cudworth is a good runner, but not a sensational one.” And he was right about that. There were runners even in my conference who were better than me. I’d done some good things, but a sensation does even more than that. Even I knew that.

But it all made sense when my coach reminded me of all those athletic challenges faced over the years, including acknowledgement of limitations. Because to a degree, it resonated with real life, in the moment.

A nail biter

Skinny kids grow up to be adults who need to make decisions.

Skinny kids grow up to be adults who need to make decisions.

The anxious kid who bit his nails from age three had grown up to handle life emergencies because sports had provided enough mental rehearsal to enable a calm, collected approach to tense situations.

That doesn’t mean I never fail. I recall the day I was standing in a hospital room in Syracuse, New York. My father had his stroke in Seneca Falls and had been transported 6o miles to a magnet hospital for treatment. For six weeks over the summer he lay there in near comatose fashion before reviving somewhat. I traveled to New York to bring the recovering patient home. The plane tickets and transportation to and from the airport had all been arranged. The narrow travel window was tense and difficult. A stroke patient can need medical assistance at any moment.

I thought I had prepared everything well for the journey. Then the doctors said, “Well, perhaps you can take your father home later this week…”

“This week?” I asked. “It’s all prepared for tomorrow. We’re leaving tomorrow…”

And just then I began to faint. I’d never had that experience before. But rather than fall face first into the row of interns standing together in my father’s room, I took a few steps forward and pushed them aside, heading for the hallway.

It wasn’t fight or flight, exactly. It was more like move and breathe or collapse. Same difference. At any rate, I got out into the hallway and took a series of intensely deep breaths. From then on I was fine. We got dad home through airports and beat up medical vans but it all worked.

Recovery from fear

Running and riding can be great recovery from stress.

Running and riding can be great recovery from stress.

Then I did the one thing that came naturally after a tense, wild affair. I went for a run. Because running and riding are not only great rehearsal in preparing for the big events in life, they’re also great for winding down.

So no matter what difficulties and challenges you are finding in your life at this moment, running and riding can help you prepare. Whether it’s a big marketing pitch in front of a major client, or discussing your child’s math grades with a taciturn teacher, you can learn how to control your thoughts, rule out the negative and find space for the positive. Then go in that room and do what you have to do, because you’ve rehearsed for this. In many ways through running and riding, you’ve done it all before. Conquered your fears.

Now go out there and run and ride. And don’t be so afraid. You can do it.  We know you can.

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On why the cycling world seems obsessed with the colors red, white and black

By Christopher Cudworth

True to the Red, White and Black.

That’s the world of cycling.

In fact a recent review of new bikes in Bicycling magazine made mention of the fact that so many road bikes seem to feature a red, white and black color scheme.

Criterium racing on the Felt 4C

Red white and black is cycling’s favorite color combination.

It’s true. Red, white and black appears to be some sort of default setting for bikes in all sorts of brands. Specialized has made a science out of using those three colors. Trek likes them too. Felt. The list goes on an on.

Either consumer research is driving this trend or sales figures must dictate that bikes in the color combination of red, white and black simply sell better.

Red and white and black 

Having ridden a red Felt 4C for nearly eight years, and sporting a Felt kit in––you guessed it––black, white and red, I can personally testify to the versatility of these three colors. You can mix and match clothing in the red, white and black color scheme and hardly ever misfire. It isn’t hard to buy accessories for a black, white and red bike either. Throw some SRAM components in red or black on there and you can keep the theme going.

Search for hidden meaning

Red, white and black is cool. But what does it mean?

You knew I’d ask that, right? Because if you read this blog you know I search for meaning in all kinds of things. Even apparently meaningless crap holds eternal philosophical significance in my life.

Take tarsnakes, for example. Maybe I’m the only one who tries to read anything into that writing on the roads, or find significance in the random scrawlings of a million billion tar marks on our roads. But if you stop and think about it, tarsnakes actually are made by hand. Millions and billions of miles of tarsnakes cover our roads, put there by working people with working brains. They may just be following and filling the cracks in the road, but you can’t tell me their minds are completely turned off all the while. Even an absent mind operates on the subconscious level.

Plus randomness has its own merits. Leonardo da Vinci once said,

“Learn how to see. Realize that everything connects to everything else.”

And what are we, blind to the scenes we pass on our bikes? Walt Whitman’s “Song of Myself” beckons us to raise our heads, to see the significance in everything we pass:

The big doors of the country barn stand open and ready,
The dried grass of the harvest-time loads the slow-drawn wagon,
The clear light plays on the brown gray and green intertinged,
The armfuls are pack’d to the sagging mow.

See, I do not digress. There is meaning in these things, if you dig a little. Even the things we wear do matter. When we ride or accompany one another.

We do these things to excite our senses in the face of so much apparent senselessness and randomness in the world. Our narcissism is our salvatioin. Riding is a song of ourselves, and so is running, because at last we notice time passing, and with it, the many-colored expressions of our being.

Absolutes

Another rider true to the red white and black.

Another rider true to the red white and black.

The red, white and black theme in cycling is one of absolutes. Red is an aggressive or action-based color. Black signifies the hidden or secretive. White is purity and perfection. Innocence, wholeness or completion.

Now you see. Those are absolute descriptions of the sport we know as cycling. You could turn it into a colloquial definition if you like. As in:

Cycling is an aggressive, action-based sport whose many hidden attributes and secrets to success in competition are manifold, yet riding is also a pure and perfect form of innocence, wholeness and completion. 

There you have it. The significance of colors, and why red, white and black color schemes are so popular in the cycling world.

You can thank me now or later for this incredible insight. Or just send money. Because I want to buy some more red, white and black gear. My collection needs an addition, most absolutely.

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Problem solving on the run has a poster child

By Christopher Cudworth

There are two types of problems that need to be solved in this world.

1) Immediate problems, such as things going wrong right now.

2) Long term problems, as in challenges that need to be solved through forethought and strategy.

Tr

The tarsnake of problem solving is that you often have to solve short term problems in order to get to your long term problem solving goals.

You never knew life was that simple, did you?

Once you recognize the black and white of problems to be solved, life is essentially a mix of getting through  immediate problems with the least amount of delay so you can begin working on long term or complex problems that help you succeed in life. If that makes it sound like life is one big problem, well, the truth hurts sometimes.

That’s the tarsnake of problem solving. Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans. (Thanks, John Lennon.)

The truth actually, really, physically can hurt you

Women world class runners compete in the steeplechase, an even that requires intense problem solving skills.

Women world class runners compete in the steeplechase, an even that requires intense problem solving skills.

I once ran an event called the steeplechase that involves running 3000 meters over 42 barriers and seven water jumps. The event is a perfect paradigm for problem solving in both the short and long term sense.

Steeplechasing requires you to deal with every hurdle (all 42 of them) with complete focus, because the hurdles are constructed of 4″ X 4″ wood. When you hit your knee on one of those, you definitely know it. Meanwhile, you’re trying to run at an even pace in order to achieve your best time.

7+ laps of steeplechasing on the track is further complicated by the addition of 7 water jumps that are built with a 2.5 foot depth underneath the barrier and a slope that inclines to a depth of 0″ about 8 inches from the flat surface of the track.

If you’re a really good steepler with a degree of spring in your legs, you can actually jump far enough to keep your foot dry the whole race. I’ve done it. Finished with barely a drop on my shoe. But that was when I was leading the whole way.

Problem solving in a crowd

The water barrier tests both the analytical and physical skills of every athlete in the steeplechase.

The water barrier tests both the analytical and physical skills of every athlete in the steeplechase.

It gets a lot more complicated and requires an entire new set of problem-solving skills when you approach a hurdle with 8 other runners all of whom need to hurdle the barrier without dragging one leg outside the width of the barrier or risk being disqualified.

Pushing and shoving ensues, with panicked stutter steps before you jump, compressing all your body parts as close to yourself as possible so you don’t get tripped up going over the solid wood hurdle.

And so it goes for over 9 minutes. The steeplechase is one repetition after another of spatial problem solving compounded by a growing fatigue as the race proceeds.

Sink or swim

I’ve seen guys go all the way under water once. Watched them emerge sopping and cold and stiff from getting splashed. Heard them shriek when cold  water hits them in the nuts or coats their bare legs.

Spectators like to gather near the water jump for these reasons, and we all know the world loves a calamity. The steeplechase often provides both dark and comic entertainment at a track meet.

You have to be tough and smart to be a steeplechaser, and there is no guarantee that a certain physical build will make you successful. There are stocky steeplers and long lanky ones, svelte Africans and charging Eastern Europeans who will run through you if you block their way going to a barrier.

Problem solving basics

But for all these variegations in technique and build and constitution, the steeplechase is still a basic track race. That means you need to have a plan to get from start to finish as fast as possible. Your long term planning requires that you run practice laps over barriers to get better at hurdling while running race pace. So while your teammates claim they suffer doing 12 X 400 at 63 seconds, you labor through 12 laps at 68 seconds while jumping 4 hurdles along the way. If you’re really masochistic, you run through the water jump as well. All while running 5:00 mile pace or better.

You have to trust your long term strategy as each barrier comes along. Even if you stumble or run sideways a few steps the trick is to get back into the pace groove and grind along. Don’t get caught napping when you come up to a barrier or you could lose 8 to 10 steps. And make sure you step on the barrier cleanly, with your spikes and not the smooth part of your shoe.

Steeplechasing is an art of problem-solving. It’s like a chess match at sub 5:00 pace. The world record for the event has progressed from 8:49.6 in 1954 to today’s best time by Saif Saaeed Shaheen (QAT)† of 7:53 set in 2004.

Women’s steeple has been progressing quickly as well. The world’s record of 8:58 was set in Beijing by Gulnara Samitova-Galkina (RUS). Yet the record was only 9:21 set by Alesya Turova (BLR) just 6 years before, in 2002. That’s a six second progression, showing that women can someday be expected to run much faster for the event.

Problem solving on the run 

So next time you go out for a run, be glad you have no hurdles to jump. Instead, you can focus your mind on those mental hurdles you’d like to solve. Some of them might have to do with how you feel at that exact moment. Others may be problems at work or in your family life. Those are the hurdles you have to jump in the course of life.

The water jumps are the bigger, longer term problems you want to solve. These may be creative issues, financial dilemmas or vision for your company or job. Keeping your mind on those as you jump the easier hurdles can be tricky.

Another Tricky Day

I’ve quoted the lyrics to the Who’s song Another Tricky Day in prior posts, but never the second verse, which goes like this:

You can’t always get higher
Just because you aspire
You could expire even knowing.
Don’t push the hands
Just hang on to the band
You can dance while your knowledge is growing

Fortunately those of us who run and ride have a unique problem solving tool in our favor. When you run and ride, your brain goes into a new kind of arena that could accurately be characterized as the Problem Solving Zone. You know what I’m talking about don’t you? One of the greatest attributes of working out is the brain release we get from doing something physical. Great thoughts can come to mind, and “you can dance while your knowledge is growing.”

And that’s worth the time you spend running and riding, for sure.

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