Finally a real offseason

Ah the offseason.

This means long, low intensity rides with all your friends. This means beer and carbs galore. This means playing in the dirt in cyclocross and frequent rides into the dark of night. I was looking forward to it. However, my decision to be a track sprinter means that I can't partake in most of these things. What does the offseason mean for a track sprinter? Gym.

I've never really had a gym phase in my life. Sure I dabbled in some bench pressing a few times in high school, but never any real training. First few days were horrible, but I'm starting to get it. My body is recovering faster and my legs are feeling less fatigued. All good things. I do miss how fresh legs feel, though.

If I said everything was perfect, I'd be lying. My body just isn't used to structured training. It's both physically and mentally draining. I'm slowly beginning to realize just how specialized track sprinting is. The deeper I get into the world of sprinting, the worse everything else seems to get. My average road ride speed seems slower. I struggle more on longer rides. I hurt more on climbs. It has been a really tough pill to swallow.

Without any actual sprint events, all I felt was that I was just getting slower. I eventually faltered under the pressure I had put on myself, questioning my dedication, fearing failure. I was on the fence with just giving up on serious competition and returning to just riding for fun. In short, Amy did the heavy lifting of talking me out of it. In the end, it came down to just sticking to it, and seeing how far I could really with this so called "natural talent." Who knows, maybe down the line I'll really fall in love with it all.

An important role to note when it comes to any sport is the role of the coach. Not only is it a coach's job to look after an athlete's physical well being, but also look after an athlete's mental health. For the short time I've been working with my own coach, he's been great at both. Thanks, Lee.

Forget that you might have talent. Just be patient and it will all be more fun. Your body and mind adapt. You are at the beginning, the beginning is always the hardest part.

There is no pressure except that you feel from yourself

I would like you to do well, but I don't need you to. So don't think you owe me, anyone else, or that you owe your "talent." That's just bullshit. Look at it one day at a time

Here's to a rocky, but so far successful start to the offseason.

P.S. I can get a decent sprint on the rollers after my first real session on them. Woo hoo! 

Humble Beginnings

First post! Brace yourselves, it's a long one.

At the end of my first racing season, I've decided to document my life on a bike. But first, a little backstory.

The year was 2010. I was at work one day, when my best friend Alex Villarreal kept rambling on and on about how cool biking was. Having been a BMX rider a decade prior, I paid no mind to him and went on with my life.

Not long after, my uncle, who at the time was in his late 30's went in for a double bypass surgery, only to end up with a quad bypass. Following that was a talk with my own doctor regarding my own health issues. I was 235lbs (severely overweight) with high cholesterol. Having been through a recent breakup, I was drinking much too often as well. The doctor told me if I didn't think about changing my ways, I was headed down the same path many of my family members were already down, only at a much quicker rate. What was an avid gamer who enjoyed soda, chips, rockstar, and little sleep to do? I guess I could try out this biking thing that Alex was so into. I spoke to him and my good friend Michael Buchanan found me my first bike.

A quick recreational activity once in a while quickly turned into my primary exercise. One day a week turned into three, turned into five. Slowly I found myself replacing my clothes. Clothes from just a year ago looked like a sail on me.

Two collarbone breaks and 50lbs later, I realized that my life now revolved around cycling. What next? Well, I did what any competition driven man would do; I toyed around with the notion of racing.

2013
Ah, my first year in racing. I was slowly starting to realize that hey, I just may be good at this cycling thing.

The season started off with an IT Band issue followed by few good Wednesday Night Racing finishes, and a podium in the team sprint with Alex and Francis in the Get Ready for Summer race series. Not bad.

Again, injury struck. I was rear ended in my car and my back was not happy with riding a bike. After a month off the bike, I rushed back into training. It was mid season, I had to catch up! This was not a good idea. IT Band issues returned and I turned to a physical therapist to end these problems once and for all. After a month and a half of PT and Yoga, I was ready to hit the track again.

The cat 5 field late in the season was fast. With a few cat 3 roadies just passing through the categories, my finishes were less than stellar. My fitness sucked. I was ready to throw in the towel, maybe I wasn't as great as I thought. I dismissed the negative thoughts in my head and got back to training.

I met a coach named Lee Povey and started going to his Thursday endurance sessions each week. They hurt every single time. Vomit was on the menu more often than not, but I felt faster as time went by. One week, he timed Flying 200's for us. I ran a 12.8, a huge improvement from my 13.1 earlier that year. I was happy, my goals for the year were met. I broke into the 12's, upgraded to cat 4, and even won/podiumed a few races. Already planning for next season, I stopped racing mass starts and concentrated on training. Hellyer WNRs were looking sketchier and sketchier with accidents every week. My next goal was to make it to off season healthy.

September 7, 2013
Elite District State Chamionships sprint tournament
It was hot, it was my first sprint tournament, and everyone looked faster than I felt. I had no aero helmet, I had no disc wheel. Hell, I was still running clinchers. My goals for the day? Maybe beat my 12.8, but if not, so what. Conditions seemed great for it, it was hot, and the air was still. I registered early and warmed up on the track. A local track racer and friend Lala showed me the ropes with warming up before a sprint tournament. No, you don't just sit on your ass for 30 laps around the track. You need to do 1 100m effort in your warm up gear, and one more in your race gear (92gi, not large by any means, but the largest gear I had ever attempted to push). Open the legs up! Never knew I needed to do this.

The order was posted, and I was second. So much for watching and learning. I asked Rich, who is an awesome racer, how the hell I should be running a flying 200. He gave me the best run down I could have asked for. Before I knew it, I was up. I rolled onto the track with three to go.

Two to go. I slowly started to pick up speed. I used the banking out of turn on the back straight to accelerate slowly. Hug the rail. I was coming out of turn four, and I started to ramp up speed again. Where did Rich tell me to stand? NOW! Out of saddle I was giving it all I had. I was coming out of turn two with my sights set on the curve of turn three as I remembered Rich's advice "float down to the pole slowly, there's no rush to get there." Turn three came up faster than I had anticipated and soon I was leaning into the turn trying to stay as close to the black line as possible. Turn four was ending, I could see the finish line. My legs screamed in protest as I willed them to pedal faster, harder. A final lunge to the finish and it was all over. I came off track and to the warm up circle. My legs were on fire.

A few people congratulated me on my run, a few pats on the back as I cooled down. I thought nothing of it, I didn't hear my time and wasn't too concerned with it. There seemed to be more fuss at the announcer booth than normal, and it wasn't just Michael Hernandez firing everyone up as usual. Another person congratulated me on my run. Why was it such a big deal? I asked him what I ran. "11.83" WHAT?! I immediately rode over to the official's booth to confirm. Michael confirmed an 11.83. I was dumbfounded, I had no idea how to react. It must've been a mistake. I was one of the few to crack into the 11's that day and when it was all said and done, I had qualified 5th overall.

The rest of the sprint tournament felt like a dream. I lost my first heat by a small margin, putting me in the rep rounds. I won my first heat, and was on to the rep finals. I lost in the rep finals. My tactics were garbage. I was out of the running, but continued to race for fun. I won most a few of the other practice heats. I finished somewhere in the top 10 I think.

As I was packing up Lee pulled me aside and told me that we needed to talk coaching ASAP. Sure, that sounded good to me. I didn't realize that my time was enough to make such a big impact.

In the weeks that followed, I raced the team sprint for Elite District State Championships. Didn't do too well, but hey no big deal. In the back of my head, the 11.8 felt like a fluke. How was that possible without any gym work? Without any sprint specific training? People were throwing the phrase "natural talent" at me and I never knew how to react. I've never really been athletic, but then again I was never really given the opportunity to be.

My sit-down with Lee came as my coaching was starting. He told me my potential was limited only by my dedication at this point. Again, I didn't know how to react. I didn't think I'd break into the 11's until at least next year. It slowly sunk in that I was only half a second behind the gold medal winner of District Championships, Lee Povey himself.

So begins the off season. First up, a road block to work on fitness, followed by some gym work. A new track bike will come soon. Lee seems to think I'll be faster than him next year. Time will tell, maybe a medal is in my future.

Thanks to everyone that helped me my first season of racing. Thanks to the old friends that introduced me to this sport and rode with me as a newbie. Thanks to the new friends at Hellyer for taking me under your wing and helping me out whenever I asked for it. All of you are awesome.