Vacation Ride 1: Blankets Creek

There's nothing like riding out-of-state to get your blood pumping. My wife Charmain and I took a trip to North Carolina (by way of Woodstock, Ga., to visit friends) to look at buying a mountain cabin. And, of course, I snuck out for a few rides that I'll share in this and my next two posts.

First stop was Blankets Creek near Woodstock. This is an urban trail located around a lake. It's a beautiful trail system, about 13 miles. There are some decent climbs that can have you gasping if you push the pace, which I did on my two early morning laps on a cool (by South Florida standards) Tuesday.

I rode the four main trails: Mosquito Bite, Van Michael, Dwelling and South loops. Mosquito warms you up some for Van Michael, which is a fairly new trail and is probably the toughest because of the climbs, especially Hurl Hill. The downhills are fun for someone used to the flats of South Florida. But to be honest, I love to climb more, so I enjoyed the challenge of going uphill here better.

I clocked a 1:32.46 and a 1:30.49 for a nice three-hour ride that ended with the humidity and temperature steadily rising. I got my first taste of clay of my vacation and I dug it. If you're in the area, I recommend this trail. Beginners and experienced riders, young and old, will find it fun and challenging.

Keeping a training diary

"...I had outstanding splits and unbelievable horsepower on the flats. Went up everything like it wasn't there. This is the feeling of power. ...''

That was a sample from a race report I wrote in my training diary from Sunday Oct. 29, 2006, detailing a third-place finish in an Expert class state series race at Alafia River State Park.

When I read it, it brings me right back to that race and how great I felt. Sure, reliving good memories is a fun advantage to writing down race details in a training diary. But the most important advantage to keeping a training diary is to chronicle what's working and what isn't in training.

As the saying goes, "Those who don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it.''

A diary is your history. And you can learn from it.

It doesn't have to be well-written, witty or shared with anyone. But it needs details.

"...1 1/2 HRs at Markham. Forgettable outing. This place punched me in the mouth again. Could only do 2 laps. Hot as hell and I didn't handle the conditions very well. ...''

That depressing entry was from Wednesday Aug. 27, 2008. And if I was paying attention, I would've realized this was another warning sign among many that I was doing too much and needed more rest.

Entries should include date, type of ride, where you rode, weather conditions, ride time, mileage, hours of sleep that night and anything else of interest. Details, details, details.

Your training diary can be written in any composition-type notebook. I favor the 9 1/2x6-inch variety. With 108 pages (216 if using both sides), you should have plenty of space to pour out your thoughts.

The following is a complete entry from May 20, 2009.

"2 1/2 HRs M2 Cruise Intervals/E2 Endurance Ride. Did 4x6 intervals and kicked ass. Avg. 225 watts over the 4 ints. Couldn't ride at Markham; did next best thing. 8 HRs sleep, 135 avg. watts. 41.7 miles, 138 bpm, 92 rpms, 16.8 mph.''

Keeping a training diary can help you spot good and bad trends and can allow you to make important changes. However, as I noted above, you need to frequently re-read entries so you can see when you're veering off course.

Like a power meter, heart-rate monitor and hiring a coach, keeping a training diary is another important tool that can help you achieve your endurance sport's goals.

Hitting the ground rolling

I did my first Functional Threshold Test of the macrocycle Sunday and was really pleased with the result. I put up 233 watts over the 20-minute time trial, giving me a starting FTP of 221.

A year ago, my starting FTP was 201.

Two years ago in May, it was 224, when I was killing it early in the season.

I try not to get too excited either way about this early snapshot into my fitness, but I have to say I was surprised and happy with Sunday's number. I tried a couple things different during my off-season, which began in mid-January this year, much earlier than previous years.

Instead of cross-training by running, I rode off-road more, mixing it up with my single-speed and geared race bike. I know I opened myself up for burnout staying on the bike more, but I thought I needed to regain my passion for riding.

Running 3 miles 3-4 times a week wasn't going to do that. Besides, I just don't like to run. But I know the benefits of weight-bearing activities. I figured my weight training could give me enough of that.

My 32 miles a week off-road at lactate threshold might have been a little too much intensity, but I allowed complete recovery between my twice-weekly rides. I never felt tired, and I believe I'm seeing the benefits now, coming into my season in much better shape and mind-set.

The fog of training

Giving up is something I don't like to do. However, everyone has a breaking point. I reached mine in January after another lackluster race.

I pitched the rest of my season, determined to take some time off, ride for fun and rediscover my passion while attempting to explain how a cyclist with more than 4,000 miles in his legs could have the worst season of his life.

It wasn't until I read this April 24 posting, "Fatigue Indicators'' http://www.trainingbible.com/joesblog/blog.html on Joe Friel's blog, that I understood what happened.

I was pretty sure I overtrained -- getting sick twice in 21 weeks sort of indicates that -- but that wasn't the complete answer because I did reduce my volume in November and December without a boost in fitness. No, the answer was deeper than that.

The main thing I got from Friel's post is this: It's not just the overtraining that does you in; it's what it prevents you from doing. Mainly, being able to ride enough in the high training zones -- lactate threshold, Vo2Max, anaerobic capacity -- to develop racing fitness.

I was a victim of the Zone 3 Syndrome.

This is the no-man's land of training. And I was living in it during my racing season. When you're afflicted with the Zone 3 Syndrome, you struggle to get your power and heart rate at or near the lactate threshold because you're tired. Any reaction to this other than a diet of recovery rides prolongs this condition. When you can't train sufficiently in these higher levels, you can't develop race fitness.

Every "hard'' ride, in effect, becomes a Level 3 Tempo ride. Not hard enough to induce the desired training effect and too hard to allow for necessary recovery. It's an endless spiral.

I researched some of my WKO+ data and it shows I spent too much time in Zones 2 and 3 and very little in the higher zones. Specifically, during my four-week Base 3 and eight-week Build periods -- the time when you should be developing LT, Vo2Max and anaerobic capacity -- I spent only 1.5 percent of my road training at LT, 0.8 percent at Vo2Max and 1 percent at anaerobic capacity. I spent 15.4 percent in Level 3 Tempo and 43.7 at Level 2 Endurance.

I think I'm on to something.

While I train with power on the road, I don't have a power meter on my off-road bike. So, researching my average heart rate numbers showed I was consistently 5+ beats lower than my LT average. My tired body was trying to tell me that I needed rest, but my Type-A personality was determined to "fight through'' this dead phase.

It all looks so clear now, outside the fog of training.

My advice to anyone out there who has suffered through the Zone 3 Syndrome would be to hire a coach to prevent this. Like most, I'm great at giving advice but bad at following my own. A coach likely would've seen what I was doing and corrected it long before I dug my hole. However, Friel's athlete fell victim to it, so nothing's guaranteed. But, Friel noticed the warning signs early enough to salvage his season.

I'm going to begin my '09-10 annual training plan May 4. Rest assured, I'll be following this advice: When it's time to ride slow, ride really, really slow. When it's time to ride hard, ride really, really hard.

FSC 4: I hate times like these

Unfortunately, this state series is going down hill faster than an acorn rolling off a tin roof. Sunday's race at what I consider my home away from home (Alafia River State Park) because I'm a Tampa native was an unmitigated disaster.

I probably was stale coming into the race because my wife Charmain and I drove to Tampa on Thursday in order to spend a few extra days in our former hometown. I rode Tuesday (2 hours consisting of a Functional Threshold Power time trial) and Wednesday (2 hours off-road at Markham) and planned to ride Friday at Alafia. However, it rained a lot on Friday and decided against going out there.

Riding so little before a race is not good for me and I felt stale when doing my preride Saturday on a wet and demanding course. Then, when I awoke Sunday morning, I had the dreaded "mild sore throat.'' It never got better but I raced anyway and never got comfortable on the bike.

I raced fairly strong on the first lap, but beginning on the second lap, I became a turnstile. Seemed like everyone from classes starting behind passed me like I was a statue. It's times like these when I wonder what the F am I doing out here.

I finished 8th out of 9. Pitiful.

So, now on top of a truly forgettable effort, I'm battling a virus and feeling my fitness dropping lower than the stack of tissues I need to keep close by. Oleta River State Park is hosting the FSC 5 this weekend, and it looks like I won't be there.

It's really hard to handle times like these. You train, suffer and plan with a single purpose: To do your best. When you fall short, it's difficult to handle. Then you start dissecting your plan, looking to see where you messed up. It's times like these when you just need some time to sort through it all. I guess I have that time now.

FSC 3: Risk with no reward

I gambled early in Sunday's Florida State Championship Series race in Tallahassee at the beautiful Tom Brown Park. I felt like I had great legs and really pushed the pace in the first lap and a half of the four-lap 27-mile race. But I paid mightily.

I was among the top quarter of the field after the first 30-minute lap and felt great going into the single-track for lap two. I was with two other racers, and I decided to try and drop them. I got rid of one but not the other. We were in sixth and seventh place. A short while later, I knew I was in trouble. The other guy built a gap and I started that slow drift back.

I ended the second lap nearly two minutes slower and knew I was in big trouble. I couldn't power up the climbs like before and my descending got sloppy. Halfway through the third lap, two guys from my class passed me, and as much as I wanted to get on their wheels, I couldn't. Then in the final lap, I was passed by another fellow racer. I crossed the line 10th out of 14 and was cursing my flawed strategy.

My final two laps were nearly five minutes slower than the first. Obviously, I rode way above my fitness. In other words, I blew myself up. A lot of times, I ride too conservatively. This was one time where I rode too aggressively. Well, sometimes you need to take a chance. This was not one of them.

One other factor that could've gone against me was the riding I did Saturday, when the team time trial took place. I raced for one of the On Your Mark teams and put out a lot of effort. I also rode fairly hard on the trail earlier in the day. All told, I turned 21 miles and that's a lot more than I usually do the day before the race. I'll never know how much that played a role in my performance Sunday, but I won't use it as an excuse.

I feel like my fitness is really improving. I'm building a strong engine that just needs more time to evolve. It might not be in time to do my best in the state series, but I think my second half of the season, consisting of the Coconut Cup in South Florida, will be really strong.

FSC 2: A breakthrough of sorts

I had my best race in two years Sunday in Fernandina Beach at Fort Clinch State Park. I was sixth out of 11, which doesn't sound all that great, but it was more about my effort than final placing.

I rode 2 1/2 laps with the racers who would fill out final positions 2 through 4, but I lost fifth near the end of the race when I was on empty. I also was passed again shortly thereafter but surged back into sixth near the line. That took every fiber of my legs and I felt like I was at death's door after crossing the line.

So how did I make this improvement from my flame-out in FSC 1? I simply started riding faster in training, paying as much attention to miles per hour as watts. I did a few rides in the 2 1/2 to 3 hour range, basically riding an hour or more in high endurance/low tempo range (19-20 mph on average). When I finished, my legs were heavy and sore into the next day, when I would rest or do a recovery ride. Also, I was in my Peak period, in which I reduced my volume but included high-intensity race-pace efforts.

Sunday's race began with about a mile asphalt road start that felt more like a road race than off-road race. We'd take that same long cruise to the finish line. The trails were dry and super fast. The whole race felt like a 28-mile short track race. The trails weren't technical and begged you to go as fast as you could. Which is what my 40-plus Expert Class did the whole race.

I made too many huge efforts on the long road sections early on and I paid for it in the final lap. In fact, in the second of the four laps, I actually felt like upping the pace while I was fourth (fifth overall) among the four-man convoy. As good as I felt then, it went downhill suddenly at the end, so it was wise I didn't attack then. Unofficially, my splits were 29:24, 29:40, 30:20, 31:38.

I have a long way to go to contend for a top-five position, but I'm closer than I was two weeks ago. Steady progress is all you can hope for in endurance sports. You can't rush it, as much as I'd like to. I'm back to rebuilding my base this week, upping my volume and miles in the next three weeks.

Hopefully, the best is still to come.