As the tan lines from the New Zealand expedition faded into
the uniform pearly hue of a common Cascadia native, an equally familiar and consistent
routine unfolded at home. Slow-roast mornings and dinners with friends, training on the trails and the roads and in the gym, lots or training. And really wet shoes. Planting seeds in the dirt and taking ice-cold plunges into the lake. Wrenching in the garage. Early-to-bed nights after an evening of playing personal travel agent. Sneaking countless handfulls of chocolate chips from the stash in the pantry. Each day at a time, but always planning, always processing the system, always designing. A routine familiar and
consistent indeed, though not lacking in variety or excitement. A week’s worth of excerpts…
Thursday, 7:30AM in the garage circa early February...the workbench in the garage is cluttered with the lingering aftermath of an early season bike trip, not to mention the constant jumble of tools and parts used to keep several bikes running smoothly through the wet and muddy training weeks. I'm not sure this morning if the smell of coffee or chain lube is more invigorating. I must already be in deep...like yesterday's mud. I must have brought back about 3 cups of soil back from the hill...at that rate I may be able to re-sod part of the raised bed by the end of April...
Friday, 12:30PM, late February, southbound from Birch Bay...Stephen, our newly adopted housemate and my new bicycling craft companion for the season, is feeling the ergogenic benefits of the pumpkin-flavored Costco muffin from the Bay Cafe at Birch Bay. That, or maybe the view of Shuksan and Kulshan, the "white sentinels". Four hours today on the road bikes. All day in the sunshine?! Thankful for that...and Coscto muffins... That afternoon my folks show up for a weekend visit to see the new house. Dad approves of the Doug fir trim and starts strumming the guitar while still in his bike clothes, making time; Mom high-grades the sunbeam for some craft making...
Saturday, 2:00PM, early March, Bonelli Park, CA...the only reason I ever travel to this part of the country is for bike racing, and I appreciate this place for the bike racing and all of the energy the promoters have pumped into this sport in an otherwise not-so-mountain-bikey part of the world. The Bellingham-esque precipitation followed us on the quick journey south. The rain cleared the smog from the skies, allowing more than a glimpse of the San Gabriel Mountains that loom otherwise invisible above the megalopolis. It was a good shakedown today. Stephen won. I got fifth. We chugged some champagne. Travel was smooth. That's another big difference between bike riders and bike racers. Bike racers have to be able to perform well amidst lots of travel and unfamiliar environments...
Sunday, 10:00AM, early-March, some mossy trails near Duncan, British Columbia...It's been a steady drizzle all morning and I'm trying to keep the keep my grips and gloves dry as we wait for the camera guys to set up for the next shot. The personal marketing and social media-ing is a perpetual aspect of being a professional action-sport athlete, and making film projects with talented videographers and photographers is one of best perks. While waiting, we scrape a drainage channel into the side of a puddle on the trail. It drains out into the ferns and leaves a glossy film of mud. Joonas says "one more," but he really probably means three more. We session a pocketed berm at least seven more times, filming some new content for Kona Bikes and some yet-to-be-announced new goodies for Spring 2016. Our new team rider Rhys is a good kid and a shredder. I think he'll carry the torch pretty far...
Monday, all day, mid March...I've recently learned about sheet mulching as a way to improve garden soil, which is an opportune discovery on account of the excess of cardboard piling up in the garage. Heaps of new equipment have shown up from our excellent sponsors. Frames from Kona Bikes, wheels and drivetrains from Shimano, suspension forks from MRP, tires from Maxxis, tire sealant from Stans NoTubes, saddles from Wilderness Trail Bikes, nutrition from Clif Bar, power meters from Stages Cycling, shoes and helmets from Giro, clothing from Jakroo, sunglasses from Smith Optics, orthotics from SuperFeet. It's incredible and fantastic, especially because it won't always be this way. The way I see it, the volume of gear that shows up each spring is a way of affirming the amount of work you've put in over the last few years to earn that gear. Tinkering away and feeling deeply thankful for my sponsors and the products they design...
Tuesday, 11:00AM, late February Metier, Seattle to nerd out on some physio stats..."Breathe!," yells Richter as I endure the closing seconds of a Moxy Zone Assessment Protocol step test, all kinds of numbers and lines flashing on a monitor in front of me, the second round of 430 watts for four minutes and I'm just trying to channel the pain into a useful spot and keep the bellows going in the chest. "You've improved your efficiency and your pump is strong but you can still work on your breathing," they tell me. The breathing. It's some of the lowest hanging fruit in the game of eking out top athletic performance. Amidst all the other numbers that can amass in the training protocols of professional cycling, it's funny to think that something as simple as breathing can go overlooked by many. The numbers can be fun, too. They're telling of lots of hard work. In the last 90-days the numbers, it's something like 230 hours, 1,900 miles, 10,600 Training Stress Score points, 207,000 feet of climbing, 210,000 of descending. Go until you get blisters on your hands one day in the early season, then you'll be immune from them for the rest of the year. 'Measuring is knowing' is what they say, but the numbers are still less than half the picture. The majority of this game is more art than science...
Wednesday, 4:30PM, early April, mountain biking...Sarah and some of the guys are off of work early and it's a clear afternoon, the dirt is primo. I'm about to be gone racing for a month...California, Australia, Arizona...so any amount of wrangling to put together an afternoon shred is worth it. So much of the training happens solo, it makes the days riding with friends that much better, and reaffirms the outlook on the long term, that the trails and friends will be there. When I'm off racing and home feels far away, it's important to have those days at home where racing feels far away, too. That way they balance out, and coming back to each is always exciting. Cheers...
Thursday, 7:30AM in the garage circa early February...the workbench in the garage is cluttered with the lingering aftermath of an early season bike trip, not to mention the constant jumble of tools and parts used to keep several bikes running smoothly through the wet and muddy training weeks. I'm not sure this morning if the smell of coffee or chain lube is more invigorating. I must already be in deep...like yesterday's mud. I must have brought back about 3 cups of soil back from the hill...at that rate I may be able to re-sod part of the raised bed by the end of April...
Friday, 12:30PM, late February, southbound from Birch Bay...Stephen, our newly adopted housemate and my new bicycling craft companion for the season, is feeling the ergogenic benefits of the pumpkin-flavored Costco muffin from the Bay Cafe at Birch Bay. That, or maybe the view of Shuksan and Kulshan, the "white sentinels". Four hours today on the road bikes. All day in the sunshine?! Thankful for that...and Coscto muffins... That afternoon my folks show up for a weekend visit to see the new house. Dad approves of the Doug fir trim and starts strumming the guitar while still in his bike clothes, making time; Mom high-grades the sunbeam for some craft making...
Saturday, 2:00PM, early March, Bonelli Park, CA...the only reason I ever travel to this part of the country is for bike racing, and I appreciate this place for the bike racing and all of the energy the promoters have pumped into this sport in an otherwise not-so-mountain-bikey part of the world. The Bellingham-esque precipitation followed us on the quick journey south. The rain cleared the smog from the skies, allowing more than a glimpse of the San Gabriel Mountains that loom otherwise invisible above the megalopolis. It was a good shakedown today. Stephen won. I got fifth. We chugged some champagne. Travel was smooth. That's another big difference between bike riders and bike racers. Bike racers have to be able to perform well amidst lots of travel and unfamiliar environments...
Sunday, 10:00AM, early-March, some mossy trails near Duncan, British Columbia...It's been a steady drizzle all morning and I'm trying to keep the keep my grips and gloves dry as we wait for the camera guys to set up for the next shot. The personal marketing and social media-ing is a perpetual aspect of being a professional action-sport athlete, and making film projects with talented videographers and photographers is one of best perks. While waiting, we scrape a drainage channel into the side of a puddle on the trail. It drains out into the ferns and leaves a glossy film of mud. Joonas says "one more," but he really probably means three more. We session a pocketed berm at least seven more times, filming some new content for Kona Bikes and some yet-to-be-announced new goodies for Spring 2016. Our new team rider Rhys is a good kid and a shredder. I think he'll carry the torch pretty far...
Monday, all day, mid March...I've recently learned about sheet mulching as a way to improve garden soil, which is an opportune discovery on account of the excess of cardboard piling up in the garage. Heaps of new equipment have shown up from our excellent sponsors. Frames from Kona Bikes, wheels and drivetrains from Shimano, suspension forks from MRP, tires from Maxxis, tire sealant from Stans NoTubes, saddles from Wilderness Trail Bikes, nutrition from Clif Bar, power meters from Stages Cycling, shoes and helmets from Giro, clothing from Jakroo, sunglasses from Smith Optics, orthotics from SuperFeet. It's incredible and fantastic, especially because it won't always be this way. The way I see it, the volume of gear that shows up each spring is a way of affirming the amount of work you've put in over the last few years to earn that gear. Tinkering away and feeling deeply thankful for my sponsors and the products they design...
Tuesday, 11:00AM, late February Metier, Seattle to nerd out on some physio stats..."Breathe!," yells Richter as I endure the closing seconds of a Moxy Zone Assessment Protocol step test, all kinds of numbers and lines flashing on a monitor in front of me, the second round of 430 watts for four minutes and I'm just trying to channel the pain into a useful spot and keep the bellows going in the chest. "You've improved your efficiency and your pump is strong but you can still work on your breathing," they tell me. The breathing. It's some of the lowest hanging fruit in the game of eking out top athletic performance. Amidst all the other numbers that can amass in the training protocols of professional cycling, it's funny to think that something as simple as breathing can go overlooked by many. The numbers can be fun, too. They're telling of lots of hard work. In the last 90-days the numbers, it's something like 230 hours, 1,900 miles, 10,600 Training Stress Score points, 207,000 feet of climbing, 210,000 of descending. Go until you get blisters on your hands one day in the early season, then you'll be immune from them for the rest of the year. 'Measuring is knowing' is what they say, but the numbers are still less than half the picture. The majority of this game is more art than science...
Photo credits in order of appearance: Spencer Paxson (1-5); Joonas Vinaari; Joe Lawwill/Shimano; Erin Huck; Spencer Paxson; Caleb Smith/Kona Bicycles; Spencer Paxson (11-18); Caleb Smith/Kona Bicycles; Spencer Paxson (20-23)
