NM Cycling Articles

A Bicycle— Whether It's New or Put Together— Unleashes Freedom for This Riding Writer

Thursday, March 27, 2008
Of the Journal

When the late Bill McLain, a bicycling impresario and my Albuquerque neighbor, was building my first real grownup bike for me a decade ago in his garage, he offered a simple observation.

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2007 Road Apple Rally Report
by Damian Calvert
Winner of the Pro category

I have to share this story of one of the all time best bike races I've ever been in. The riders that show up annually to the Road Apple Rally are World Class and that's why this unique whoopy race in Northern New Mexico is the best...
According to www.roadapplerally.com lore, Ned got his first MTB win at this race in 1983. It was widely known in the mid-late 90's that he placed it atop his list of favorite courses. He was giving the up-and-coming Euro's something to chew on and have smoke filled bar-room say-it-don't-spray-it arguments over for sure. An American course, a New Mexican course, on top of Ned's list? Impossible, this "Road Apple" rally, horse vs. bikes race.. ffffffffffff.
The 30 mile loop is mainly whoops, the kind you can pump and actually gain speed, so the full body gets a workout. This cool and breezy Saturday in early October the pack was rolling out strong and everyone was drafting tight together (see leading out..). Me, Ned, Travis Brown (former Natl. Champ and 2000 MTB Olympian), Mike McCalla (number 2 en New Mex), Jason Quenzler (that's right MTC's own top dog), and Jens Nielsen (the tall Dane we call Jens Voigt). Quenzler and I both rocking our "perfect for this course" Scalpels of course...we say that for every course actually.
Ned decided about 5mins into the whoops to light it up and throw down the pack-splitting-attack, and it worked just like he knew it would, me on his wheel, and T Brown on my wheel, then about a minute of whoop gap back to Quenzler. The Lung kept the pressure on and we stayed right on his wheel. On the first run up I was riding it in my granny gear and T Brown was in my way so I told him "up up up". There's nothing like pushing a former national champ... and he was sorry he botched my line as I dismounted and had to run up too.
Altogether on the road section that bridges the two singletrack sections and time to get some nutrients for the slugfest about to ensue. The road racing this year taught me a thing or ten and I decided to try to sit on their wheels instead of sitting on the front, so they did most of the work and I recovered...after all, they've been big moola paid pro's for longer than I've even raced a bike.
As we hit the single back toward the Finish the pace kicked up again but only for about 15seconds, and I realized we were all on the rivet (something T Brown confirmed over post race fajitas). Everytime one of us three would go to the front to pull in the wind we could only attack for 10-15 seconds and then it would start to hurt real bad. The wind was helping me keep these boys in check! Yes, I had mother nature on my side too!!!
At one of the many intersections T Brown went the wrong way, slammed his brakes, and slammed his body into the soft dirt over his bars, then I rode my Scalpel over his Trek 69er and stopped on top of his front wheel. He sprang up, gave that "did anyone see that" look around then hopped onto his bike and starting chasing Ned...who did not miss the turn and decided to attack us in our clumsiness. He's a cheeky old guy who's got the fitness to make you pay for any mistake, after all he's probably won over 300 world class races in his career...
T Brown did some good work trying to bridge the 15 second gap and then I took a mean turn on the front for about a minute and pulled myself onto Deadly Nedly's wheel, without T Brown, he popped when I gave it a go I guess...
Ned kept wanting me to go to the front but I wouldn't, this old jammer was trying to break my hip! or my spirit at least. I gave him the old shoulder rock one two and the huff puff loud breathing three four to signal that I wasn't in the best of shape right then, and he bought it and paid cash. He kept pulling, chug chug, choo choo, just absolutely pinning it so Travis wouldn't catch back on. I took an occasional pull, equally about 30% of the work in the wind.
Finally we hit the last 4 minute singletrack and he gave it the gas again! Damn this guy just won't give up and I really was appreciating how hard he was nailing it, we were jamming the corners left right left right, staying on the 8-12 inch hardpack and making sure not to get an inch off the hardpack or else your wheel and chances of winning would stop, just that quickly. At over 17mph this race flys by and the speed of this singletrack is a pure high, it's as fast as you could possibly go!
Travis was still lingering and we both had to drill it toward the finish to assure the top two spots, then Ned took the 3rd to last corner too tight. I saw him setting it up, hard right 90degree, only he set it up from the middle of the dirt road and I set it up from the far left and flew under him as he went way wide, then I gave her everything I had, full sprint for the last 30 seconds, through the washed out left hander, then the loose finish line gravel right hander that I lost on in 2005. Anthony Colby pipped me at the line that year and I got Travis Brown, I was one second away from the win that year and this year I was one turn away from the win... I kept it upright and started to feel the win, (see attached finish line series). This is the first and only time I've ever won the Road Apple Rally. To my knowledge no New Mexican has won the Pro race and needless to say it felt like a HUGE win. In USA MTB history Ned and Travis Brown are both in the Top 5 for sure as far as character and success. Ned is bigger to me than Elvis, Bob Marley (even though that's almost a tie) and some of the lesser apostles. He's the lung, and one of the coolest guys you'll ever meet, always having time to catch up at the races and talk...in all honesty he's what I'll always strive for on the bike, character and speed.
After the race the local paper wanted a word for about 10mins and they took a sweet shot of the three of us, the three that broke away and made one unforgettable race together... Cheers!
Tommy Danielson was hanging around in his "broken shoulder girdle at La Vuelta de Espana armsling". His wife Kirsten got third in Pro Women behind Nina Baum (go Bear Naked Cannondale!!!). He signed my jersey for the Cannondale Marketing big cheese Matty J (it'll be in the mail for you tomorrow!). Travis Brown and I chewed the race over a few times over fajitas and beer. But best of all I was there soaking it all in with my number one bros, Quenzler and Rich, who are winners through and through.

After pressing snooze for the second time at 5am I decided to get out of bed for one last NMORS race of the season. Load up on coffee, load up the bike, load up the water bottles, make a meal for the road and off I go up north to the Road Apple Rally in Farmington, NM to see if I can do better than 4th place as I've done the past two years.
After picking up friends along the way and dodging the balloonists headed for Cinnamon buns and turkey legs at the Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta we make the 3hr drive north. Road tripping with my bros is always fun but this time they both hung me out to drive...meaning they wouldn't take a turn at the wheel, like a roadie who won't take a pull.
After warming up and lining up I realized this was going to be a hard day, Travis Brown, Ned Overend, Anthony Colby, Mitch Moreman, and the Durango hardboys made our Pro field the deepest we've seen this year at 24 riders.
Having raced this course many times I knew the strategy to get into good position going into the first of hundreds of whoops in the singletrack. Sitting in second place at the start of the singletrack was right where I wanted to be, catch a little draft, stay out of trouble and hold my lactate threshold as long as possible. With a couple of attacks from Matt Shriver and Travis Brown to spice up the first section I just held onto the wheels of the leader and held my second place position.
Travis was running a modified bike with a 29er in the front and standard 26 inch wheel in back and he was letting it rip. As he set the mean pace only three of us could go with him and by the middle paved road section I was once again in a four man break, with some big dogs!!!
Having a good day is something special for a middle of the pack Pro like myself and hanging with the usual front pack guys was almost enough for me to call it a good day...but, after coming up 4th the last two years in a four man break this was not the goal again. I went to the front and within 3 minutes went off course at a sharp right hander so I was quickly the caboose of the train again. Legs felt good, mind was sharp, and the Scalpel was really ripping today...offload on the face of the whoop, unweight over the top, then drive it down on the backside transition and the speed actually increases without pedalling. The problem with pumping the whoops like that is your legs slowly start to feel something uncomfortable but you push through and eventually they start to yell at you as they begin to cramp. Aware of this from previous years I managed to stay seated as much as possible and use the full 2.7 inches of rear travel to keep my weight off the legs. For as much fun as this course is and being a non climbing ski area course you can still break down from the leg pump after hitting hundred of whoops that feel like mini squats. I managed to ask Ned through a mini climb section how many times he has won the race, showing that he was still mentally sharp he quickly replies "you mean including today?" to which I let out a laugh, popped a Gu and thought "this guys unreal, 50 and ripping my 32 year old legs off, maybe the second hand smoke from Vegas Interbike will bring him down to our human level and break down 'the lung'".
Now come the road sections and Anthony Colby, who has been toying with domestic roadies all season, started to show his cards. After the first attack that I shut down he decided to give it a go again and this time I wasn't going to be played so Ned stepped it up and went to the front. After seeing that he wasn't gaining I decided to try to go solo across and get some of that high speed draft. I then realized that I was witnessing something I never thought I'd see, Ned falling off as T. Brown and I bridged up. Must have been that second hand smoke because it has always played out the other way around when I've raced 'the Lung'.
Now for the final section of the race, I attacked leading into the singletrack and gave it all the juice I had, hard sliding left then rock drop then bang it right until you pop out on the paved road again. I looked back and had a 50 foot gap and T. Brown wasn't closing so I just dug deeper and deeper. By the time we hit dirt again Colby was on my wheel and he brought along the big dog too. We all took a breather as our ATP stores were replenishing for the finale. T. Brown to the front me in second, no wait there's Colby attacking in the last turn, I shoot a line that is half tree and the other half track and T. Browns elbow but plow through and watch Colby sliding it out in the gravel but he managed to keep it upright and stood up for the sprint win, followed by myself T. Brown and then Ned 23 seconds back.
Some days you just have the legs and they show up when you need them the most. I glad they showed up on a day when so many big guns showed up too.
Time for some Fajitas and my boys better do some driving this afternoon because this tired puppy needs to break down all that was experienced today in a nice long nap through northern new mex.

Below is an article written by Rick Reilly of Sports Illustrated. He details his experiences when given the opportunity to fly in a F-14 Tomcat. If you aren't laughing out loud by the time you get to "Milk Duds," your sense of humor is broken.

Someday you may be invited to fly in the back-seat of one of your country's most powerful fighter jets. Many of you already have ... John Elway, John Stockton, Tiger Woods to name a few. If you get this opportunity, let me urge you, with the greatest sincerity...

Move to Guam.
Change your name.
Fake your own death!
Whatever you do - Do Not Go!!!

I know. The U.S. Navy invited me to try it. I was thrilled. I was pumped. I was toast! I should've known when they told me my pilot would be Chip (Biff) King of Fighter Squadron 213 at Naval Air Station Oceana in Virginia Beach.

Whatever you're thinking a Top Gun named Chip (Biff) King looks like, triple it. He's about six-feet, tan, ice-blue eyes, wavy surfer hair, finger-crippling handshake -- the kind of man who wrestles dyspeptic alligators in his leisure time. If you see this man, run the other way. Fast.

Biff King was born to fly. His father, Jack King, was for years the voice of NASA missions. ("T-minus 15 seconds and counting ....." Remember?) Chip would charge neighborhood kids a quarter each to hear his dad. Jack would wake up from naps surrounded by nine-year-olds waiting for him to say, "We have a liftoff."

Biff was to fly me in an F-14D Tomcat, a ridiculously powerful $60 million weapon with nearly as much thrust as weight, not unlike Colin Montgomerie. I was worried about getting airsick, so the night before the flight I asked Biff if there was something I should eat the next morning.

"No," Biff said, "because they taste about the same coming up as they do going down."

The next morning, out on the tarmac, I had on my flight suit with my name sewn over the left breast. (No call sign -- like Crash or Sticky or Leadfoot . but, still, very cool.) I carried my helmet in the crook of my arm, as Biff had instructed. If ever in my life I had a chance to nail Nicole Kidman, this was it.

A fighter pilot named Psycho gave me a safety briefing and then fastened me into my ejection seat, which, when employed, would "egress" me out of the plane at such a velocity that I would be immediately knocked unconscious.

Just as I was thinking about aborting the flight, the canopy closed over me, and Biff gave the ground crew a thumbs-up. In minutes we were firing nose up at 600 mph. We leveled out and then canopy-rolled over another F-14.

Those 20 minutes were the rush of my life. Unfortunately, the ride lasted 80. It was like being on the roller coaster at Six Flags Over Hell. Only without rails. We did barrel rolls, sap rolls, loops, yanks and banks. We dived, rose and dived again, sometimes with a vertical velocity of 10,000 feet per minute. We chased another F-14, and it chased us.

We broke the speed of sound. Sea was sky and sky was sea. Flying at 200 feet we did 90-degree turns at 550 mph, creating a G force of 6.5, which is to say I felt as if 6.5 times my body weight was smashing against me, thereby approximating life as Mrs. Colin Montgomerie.

And the lunch before that. I egressed a box of Milk Duds from the sixth grade. I made Linda Blair look polite. Because of the G's, I was egressing stuff that did not even want to be egressed. I went through not one airsick bag, but two.

At one point, as we were coming in upside down in a banked curve on a mock bombing target and the G's were flattening me like a tortilla and I was in and out of consciousness, I realized I was the first person in history to throw down.

I used to know cool. Cool was Elway throwing a touchdown pass, or Norman making a five-iron bite. But now I really know cool. Cool is guys like Biff, men with cast-iron stomachs and freon nerves. I wouldn't go up there again for Derek Jeter's black book, but I'm glad Biff does every day, and for less a year than a rookie reliever makes in a home stand.

A week later, when the spins finally stopped, Biff called. He said he and the fighters had the perfect call sign for me. Said he'd send it on a patch for my flight suit.

Coyote Classic NMORS #1, or what else can go WRONG? - DFL is better than DNF!

by Glen Gollrad

Despite what you may think - it's NOT fun racing/riding with fork oil soaking into flesh wounds - and that's just part of my story at the Coyote Classic race, in El Paso TX.

I had been planning on this race since last fall, coming out and riding strong in my debut Expert race and the first in the NMORS (New Mexico Off-Road Series) of my second season. It favored my kind of riding style, requiring technical skills to climb & descend the gnarly, rocky - off camber at times - terrain. It also required strength & endurance, as the total mileage for the expert loops (one long and one 'short' - the short being 8-9 miles of hard riding!) made for 28-30 miles of racing; pretty rough given the low average speeds and the intense amount of effort needed to climb the steep loose trails. I was ready. Fresh off of the NOVA NORBA race 2 weeks ago, I knew I could hang with the fellas in my group, provided I rode smart, ate and drank accordingly and kept an eye on the stronger guys. It would be hot 2.5 ~ 3 hours of racing, as the forecast was for mostly clear skies and temps in the 70's. Feels hot after all the sub-freezing 'training' lately. Especially in the sun. Felt damn good in fact!

I lined up with the 30-39 pro/expert group, maybe 20 of us all told, and we waited for the go ahead. The start was rather anti-climatic at first as we had a neutral road section down the park entrance road, to a turn-around, then rode straight back up towards the start of the singletrack. Once we hit the turn around, we still sort of cruised, waiting for someone to "break" and string things out a bit. All of a sudden the few pros and semi-pros went off! I stayed relatively close to the front but just before the singletrack, 1-2 guys snuck by. A gap started opening too quickly, so I got by them and stayed in contact with the lead 5-6 guys. The race was on! This first stretch of singletrack was mostly descending, technical at times, and FAST. It was punctuated by a few nice, hard, steep, loose climbs out of drainages. After about 10 minutes we popped out off the trail, across the park entrance road and onto the beginning of the main loop(s). Fast and flowy, still generally descending behind a series of hills that separated the start/finish area from the rest of the frontside of the course - the trail bed was typical southwestern DG (decomposed granite) so at times was a little loose and always demanded attention - as a mistake would net an encounter with the prickly flora that bracketed the trails.

So far so good. Riding fast, hard, and efficient. I lucked out descending the scary drainages efficiently, which helped propel me up the opposite sides and keep close contact with the main group. 2-3 guys, the fastest of the Pro/Semi-Pro's, were opening a bit of a gap, but were always in sight. On a scale of 1-10 I felt maybe a 7, so not optimum, but pretty good. It had been a fitful night of sleep and a tense start, but I was now settling into a good race rhythm. I'd have a little ground to gain on the 1 guy I was keeping an eye on in my group, but knew it was a long race and if ridden smartly, would catch him by the end, no problem.

Near the end of this first part of the course, comprising 1/2 of the "shorter loop" there's a hell of a series of climbs that bring you up to a saddle, then drops you down to the main/backside part of the course. Still feeling good as I cruised down the fun descending trails, taking a clean hard left at he first of 3 water stations (!) onto a rocky wash. From here, it's a long 10-12 miles that takes racers out to the furthest extent on the course and then wraps back to start the big climb back into the start/finish area. At this point, me and two other guys are working within contact of each other, but the terrain was rolling and undulating enough to not have much of a "line of sight" ahead, so at some point we loose sight of the lead few guys. No biggie, as we're riding well. Then I notice my fork is rattling a little bit. Loose headset? Noooo..., headset is OK. Hmpf. Oh well, deal with it later. We drop off the trail into another, slightly climbing rocky wash and I have no idea where the course is all of a sudden - then I see where I must have overshot a left turn*. I stop, see the other two guys climbing off to my left, so I head back and up the rocky jeep road/trail they are ascending. Must be the beginning of the long, hard, loose climb up out of this sort of valley we were down in. We're heading in the right direction generally (so I thought), so it?s time to concentrate on climbing efficiently. Somewhere along here, I really start to feel good, and catch one of the guys I'd been with. The other is motoring ahead, setting a good pace, so it continues. 20 minutes later, the guy I'm with asks if we're on course - I say, "I think so, as long as we keep heading (I point up, to the right) that way". Well, 5 minutes later the guy leading up ahead turns around and comes back to us. We'd hit a dead end!!! Fahking hell.... My heart sank. 30+ minutes of climbing, off course, way out in the middle of nowhere. We descend back down into said wash* we had initially hit, see other older sport level folks heading up the wash further, then exiting out to the RIGHT side! There was our mistake. The course really should have been marked a little better, as it was confusing despite the fact I'd been here before.... Later I heard locals saying they knew of the spot and have made the mistake occasionally! Such is life sometimes...

Totally deflated, I notice that my Fox Float 100RLC has a problem. The red damper adjuster knob and shaft are sticking up out of the fork about half an inch. I push and twist it. It goes down. I hit a bump - it pops up an inch! Repeat a few times, as the dampening system in the right leg appears to lose it's "return" circuit, so the fork is compressing and staying down - more and more. Shoot, that's not good, I still have 20+ miles of "racing" left! Not for the win, place or show, but for the finish. God help me, if I can, I'll finish this dang race. The only DNF I've ever gotten was due to, um, unexpected unconsciousness and a ride in an ambulance to the ER. I ride on, noting how rocky the course really is, now that I can feel every square-edged boulder, slam through the dips and drainage crossings, and feel like my kidneys are being punched. Oh joy. Not much further along, I hit another bump and the fork temporarily springs back up - cool! No dampening, but at least I have some shock absorption... One bump later ~ plooosshhhh!!!! The damper adjuster and the rod it had been bolted to fly over my shoulder, propelled by a geyser of shock oil, re-compressing the fork fully, and spraying me, my bike, my cuts, and my water bottle. This is not fun. I stop, retrieve the broken shaft and knob assembly, Velcro it onto my seatpost with the CO2 cartridge and ride on ~ now completely defeated feeling. Amazingly I'm not having the WORST day, as one of the guys I had been riding with on our off-course bonus journey has now had 3 or 4 flats, and may have called it quits.

Finally I start the last major climb up to the start/finish area, picking my way up the techy loose steep climb. The smell of BBQ is really messing me up and I contemplate quitting here - but no, I crest the hill and begin the "shorter" second lap - 10 more miles of rocky, abusive hell, all over again! All I remember later on in this lap is getting to the Tee intersection I thought I'd turn right at, and close the last loop, but I was WAY off. We were to turn left here and right at the NEXT one. Ow. These rocks are really starting to thrash my wrists, shoulders, kidneys, head, eyeballs, and so on. The stinky oily slime all over my bike and me had a lovely effect on my disk brakes too ~ making them very sluggish as the pads were now totally contaminated by the repeated mini-geysers of oil shooting out the top of my right fork leg. About 30 minutes to late, I get the brilliant idea to Velcro my glove over the hole in the top of the fork - so I stop, rig it up, and press on. It works! Better late than never. I did have the clarity to keep the glove on the hand that I had punched two deep gashes into the night before, while putting my bike on the rack - I was tensioning the rubber strap when it slipped, and my hand whacked my big chainring - right in the meat of my right palm! Joy, deeply embedded oil in puncture wounds, on a critical load bearing part of my hand...

The last lap took about 45-50 minutes, making for a hell of 3 hour, 30 minute "ride". Thankfully there were still marshals on the course, and bottles of water - so I grabbed one before the last big climb (again) and rinsed myself down - getting a pleasantly refreshing boost to boot. Crawl up the last climb and call it a day. Done. Finito. Over and out.

Crawl to the car, pile in, head for the Flying-J truck stop, take the hottest, best shower I've ever had and we hit the road for the 5 hour drive back to Santa Fe....

Next time it'll be better!

Next stop: NMORS #2; Cloudcroft, NM ~ home of the "cloud climbing railroad"

Cycling can be a solo sport. Long rambles through the spring countryside, hard rides in the hills, weekend tours to scenic areas—all can be enjoyed with only your own thoughts for company.

In fact, many cyclists prefer to go alone. Then they can choose their own route and are free to ride hard or stop and smell the flowers, as their fancy prefers.

But cycling is also the perfect group sport. Here are just five good reasons for riding with others:

To get these benefits, it’s a good idea to join a bike club even if you ride alone much of the time due to preference or your schedule.

But if there are two or more clubs in your area, how do you know which one to join? It depends on what you want to do and how you want to do it. Are you interested in recreational rides or racing?

Get to know area cyclists and ask why they joined the club they did. Go to club events to watch the organization and feel the atmosphere. Sit in on a club’s monthly meeting to hear about issues and see what kind of people are at the helm.

Participate in club rides and tune in to the tenor of the group. Is it supportive or critical of other riders? Remember, if you enjoy cycling, you should enjoy it even more in the company of fellow riders. It pays to pick your club carefully.

Most clubs are geared to promoting fun rides and tours. Here are some ways you can identify a club that’s doing it right.

Some recreational/touring clubs have a racing division, while other clubs are strictly racing organizations. They exist to help talented cyclists achieve competitive goals. If you want to race, joining a good racing club is a key step toward realizing your potential.

Some clubs are geared to junior riders, some to masters, and others concentrate on Category 1-5 riders. If you find two or more clubs that seem meet your needs, make your choice using this criteria:

This may mean the coach is certified by USA Cycling (the governing body of U.S. bike racing), but many fine coaches don’t have formal certification.

Good coaches have time to work with young or inexperienced cyclists. They have the patience to bring beginning cyclists along slowly, letting them develop at their own rate without undue pressure.

Good coaches aren’t slaves to one coaching system. They don’t blindly follow some formula but instead devise training and racing strategies geared to individual cyclists.

In the winter, riders meet for weight training and stationary bike work. They train together in the early season, doing long base-building rides. They practice team tactics on training rides and use them in races. They travel to events together, sometimes in a team van.

There’s usually a local time trial series and a weekly evening criterium in which members hone their skills for the real races on the weekend. These practice races are a good measure of the club. Look for events that start on time, are well organized and take place on safe-but-challenging courses.

Cycling is a relatively expensive sport, so good clubs work hard to secure sponsorships from non-cycling companies as well as from the industry and bike shops. These sponsorships help cover the cost of clothing, equipment and travel. Shops also may offer parts and service discounts to club members.

Team members encourage each other with advice and consolation. (One sure sign of a poor club is people yelling at each other on training rides, dispensing criticism instead of support.) Training rides should be designed to help everyone improve. Race strategy should be based on teamwork rather than on showcasing star athletes.

Receive a FREE copy of the eBook “29 Pro Cycling Secrets for Roadies” by subscribing to the RoadBikeRider Newsletter at www.RoadBikeRider.com. No cost or obligation!

Technical Q&A with Lennard Zinn By Lennard Zinn VeloNews technical writer
This report filed June 24, 2003

Dear Lennard Zinn: Is it true that the Zipp clincher 404/303s will break up when tire pressure exceeds 140?--JV

Dear JV: Below is a long answer to your question, but it is worth reading, as it addresses, in addition to the specific Zipp question, the general question many of us have about how much pressure a clincher rim can handle.--Lennard

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Dealing with road rash By Dawn M. Richardson, MD FACEP

You've probably been there before: Up all night between stages because you have a fresh batch of road rash and it's throbbing. Every time you roll over in bed, your nasty gooey aching hip sticks to the sheets and wakes you up in pain. Your significant other is grossed out and reminds you that you get to do the laundry for the next few weeks.

Due to copyright restrictions, you must click this link to read the remaining sections of this excellent 2-part article.

If you're normal, well adjusted and sentient, you have to ask why any cyclist would submit himself to "bonk training." It's the ultimate in hair-shirt riding. You wake up in the morning, drink two cups of coffee without putting anything else in your stomach, then go for a 60-90 minute ride. The answer: To lose weight. FAST.

Andy Pruitt, clinical director of the Boulder Center for Sports Medicine, has seen plenty of cyclists shed their guts with bonk training. "If I have a patient who's trying to lose weight- cyclist or not- I have him ride 20-30 minutes before breakfast on a stationary bike at about 60 percent of max heart rate," says Pruitt. "This ignites your fat-burning metabolism, and it stays lit during the day." If you have an extra 5-10 pounds to lose, empty-stomach exercise first thing in the morning is ideal, he says.

Bonk training works, according to Pruitt, because there's no readily available fuel source for your muscles (there's very little glycogen in the bloodstream when you wake up), so your body has to seek out fuel...stored fat. To get the full effect, you have to maintain an endurance pace; you should be able to converse without panting.

The name of this weight-loss comes from the idea that the training mimics the conditions that lead to the scourge of cyclists- bonking. In fact, true bonking is a danger.

"If you ride like this longer than 90 minutes, your body starts breaking down muscle and protein in organs," says Liz Applegate, sports nutritionist at the University of California-Davis, cyclist and author of Eat Smart, Play Hard. "Then you're not just losing fat, you're weakening your body."
Laura Gabrels Metcalf

1. Upon waking, drink 2-3 cups of coffee, up to 45 minutes before cycling. Don't eat.
2. Ride at endurance pace- 60-70% of your max heart rate, or a casual pace that doesn't make you pant when you talk.
3. Keep it up for 20-90 minutes.
4. You can do this on consecutive days, but mix in at least one normal breakfast per week.
5. Eat your typical breakfast as soon as the ride ends.
6 . Watch the blubber ignite!!

Mind Games
Bringing Quality to Your Training By Suzie Tuffey Riewald, PhD, NSCA-CPT

The alarm goes off at 5:30am. You drag yourself out of bed, change into your workout clothes and drive to the gym. Once at the gym, you stretch briefly before beginning your workout routine. Less than twenty minutes into the workout, your thoughts are consumed by details and stresses of the day ahead. You quickly finish your workout so you can get started with your day.
Sound familiar? You are committed to your physical fitness/ sport but find that you are going through the motions. More often than not, you get the workout in physically but are not “mentally” in to what you are doing. This is a common situation given personal, professional and family responsibilities and the harried lifestyles we tend to lead. How can we change this to make training more enjoyable and productive?
In the field of sport psychology, there has been an attempt to characterize elite athletes or compare less versus more successful athletes from a psychological perspective. One characteristic that typifies elite performers relates to training with quality on a daily basis; elite athletes use a variety of mental skills and strategies to enhance the intensity of training. Put another way, they take purposeful steps to maximize their physical and mental effort in training, a characteristic that relates to more successful performance.
Whether you are a recreational athlete, competitive athlete, or fitness enthusiast, you can benefit physically, mentally, and emotionally by taking steps to bring quality and purpose to your training. Two strategies are suggested to help you mentally engage in your physical pursuits.

Identify a Purpose
On a daily basis, you should have a reason to not just workout but to workout with physical and mental intensity. Having such a reason can be the “flame” behind the workout; it can raise your intensity from a simmer to a boil. A simple strategy that can bring this purpose and intensity to training is to ask yourself one question before you get started—“what am I going to do today to make myself better?” In answering this question, identify just one goal or objective—one thing to focus on that could be related to technique, duration, reps, effort, or attitude. After the session, hold yourself accountable by answering the question “what did I do today to make myself better?” (In a future column I’ll discuss details of effective goal setting.)

Be an Athlete
You wear many “hats” during the course of the day such as parent, spouse, co-worker, boss, athlete, and student. When working out, however, you should have on only one “hat”—you need to allow yourself (remind yourself) to be an athlete and only an athlete. Mental baggage from the day needs be left in the locker to be picked up later. This isn’t always easy to do. To help make this transition to “being an athlete,” you can use a strategy called behavioral symbolism. This simply means that you tap into a behavior that symbolizes for you that you are now an athlete and are ready to get on with the workout. For example, the act of putting on your lifting gloves or tying the laces on your running shoes could be used to symbolize that you are now an athlete and are focused on the task ahead. While training, all that matters and all you can control is what you are doing right now so invest your energy wisely.
Be an athlete with a purpose—and have fun!

About the Author Suzie Tuffey received her Master’s and Ph.D. in Sport Psychology/ Exercise Science from the University of North Carolina-Greensboro. She has worked for USA Swimming as the Sport Psychology and Sport Science Director, and now is Associate Director of Coaching with the USOC where she works with various sport national governing bodies (NGBs) to develop and enhance coaching education and training. Additionally, Suzie is an NSCA-certified personal trainer.

Thanks go to Derek Moffett for finding this one. The NCSA web site is informative with free training articles.
This article originally appeared in NSCA's Performance Training Journal, a publication of the National Strength and Conditioning Association. For a free subscription to the journal, browse to www.nsca-lift.org/perform.