White Shorts: Just DON'T Do It!

Maybe your team somehow got stuck with a kit that includes white shorts.

Maybe your girlfriend gave them to you, citing that you have a "skinny cyclists bum" and need something to "round it out a bit".

Maybe you like the look created by the streak of road that will inevitably form up your crack--especially if it's been raining.

All ye white shorts wearers: It's time to rethink your cycling fashion.
(<- diaper)

Besides being notoriously un-slimming, white shorts guarantee that after a few hours in the saddle, you will appear to have pooed yourself.

You know that ring-around-the-collar that everyone gets on white exercise shirts? So, too will you get rings around your legs and waist. And it'll be a long ride home in dirty, ringed non-glory before you can wash it out.

Louis Garneau demonstrated that their high-end white shorts for 2009 actually have an ingenious layer of grey sewn in along the crack region to keep white-short-wearing cyclists from exposing that part of their bodies. They even say there is crab shell protein blended into the chamois fabric so it's antibacterial for life.

Even with these short innovations, DON'T GIVE IN!

Why be all clean and antibacterial if you look like you've cycled thorough a dust storm on your way to your group ride? Why not be all clean and antibacterial and look sharp and clean and antibacterial?

(OK ->)

If you must have white, at least find a style that has black around your nether regions, with the white on the sides. Leave a little something to your riding buddies' imaginations.

And if you're doing an Ironman or other long-distance race, don't even think about white! You're going to pee yourself. Everyone knows that. But they don't know when, and they don't have to!

Enough said.
Or else you might as well ride like this!

Skiing Blind in Mammoth

Snow dumped on Mammoth like it had no other place in the world to go. It made skiing there this past Friday and Saturday an exercise in skiing by feel, rather than by sight.

If the snow let up, the fog rolled in. And if a skiier could get over being cold and wet and having little snow pellets sting every exposed pore in her face, she would be treated to the most fluffy, slippery, fun powder days she had ever experienced.

Fun for her, evil for her quads.

Powder skiing isn't exactly the greatest way to rest sore quads before continuing onto the next "build" phase in an ultra cycling training plan.

But they are always, 100% totally worth the short, intense pain. And powder days are always, 100% totally more awesome than being stuck in LA when it's cold and rainy.

Mammoth's runs are all short. When it's snowing, the top of the mountain with all of the supposedly most rad runs is shut down. Maybe there are some longer runs if you start up there, but I have yet to huck myself off of them.

If you're skiing as a rest week activity--and/or as revenge for two days lost to a Death Salad--Mammoth's short expert runs are just what the coach ordered.

Runs off of lift 22, when covered in boatloads of powder, are bliss. Blind, foggy runs off of 5 will engage your core while teaching you to balance as you ski over stuff you can't see at all because the ground below you is literally attached to the sky surrounding you. Runs to the right of lift 1 offer short chutes and the occasional sighting of intense wipe outs as daredevils huck off of rocks.

And the worse the weather gets, the more the crowds thin out. And the higher you're willing to go up into the fog, the higher your chances of not having to play frogger on your way down.

Mammoth is an awesome getaway for Californians. I'd recommend going on a weekday in order to get in more skiing and less time standing in line for a lunch table or a ride up.

But Telluride is still my happy place. Even during the biggest holidays, Gold Hill never has a line, and the opportunities for creating an epic run of 3000 vertical feet of pure moguls are far greater than at Mammoth.

Just remember: About a 6 hour drive from the South Bay of LA, Mammoth = Recovery. Telluride = Intense Training for those willing to seek it out.

Happy Cross Training!

The First 300 Mile Bike Week--How Long Will Your Metabolism Burn?

What better way to follow up your first 150 mile bike ride than with a run and a 50 mile bike the next day?

This is the mindset to which I'm slowly adapting in my quest to become a rad ultracyclist. It worked last weekend.

Coachubby, Robyn, and I did our first 150 miles straight on Saturday. Boo ya. Out of respect for our quads from the muscle-destroying DA (disappearing ass) ride we did the weekend before (which actually took 10 minutes longer...and was 30 miles shorter), we rode relatively flat--all the way from Redondo Beach to San Buenaventura State Beach in Ventura (sight of the Breath of Life triathlons, where coachubby and I met) and back.

We picked up a fellow Ironman along the way, who immediately fell in love with Robyn (who wouldn't?) and decided to ride with us all the way to Ventura and back. His planned 80 mile ride must've ended up in the realm of 120 miles. Oh, what men will do to spend 6 hours staring at a perfectly toned female tush.

(In this guy's favor, he was very fun to be around, and pretty much pulled us the entire 60 miles from Ventura back to Santa Monica. What's not to love about him? Robyn has his number.)

My question, which would better be addressed to Roch Frey and Paul Huddle instead of to cyberspace, is: Is it possible that such a weekend of long, slow, never-ending biking could result in a sped up metabolism lasting...I don't know...4 days?

Needless to say, this week is a rest week. My quads are finally, on the fourth day of rest, showing signs of life. They may wake from their quad coma by day 7. (Unless I ski bumps all day the next few days. Mammoth, here I come!)

And while conventional wisdom says you should eat for the activity you've done on a certain day, is it possible that all that riding is just now catching up with me?

My mind has been short circuited. Perhaps I didn't get in enough in my 200-mile weekend. All I could think about Sunday night (besides the heartbreaking Cardinals loss) was BBQ potato chips. Monday, it was Dreyer's Loaded Cookie Dough Ice Cream. Tuesday, it was cookie poops (homemade sugar cookies from my German grandma...she gave me enough to feed an army...or just myself). Yesterday, it was chocolate cake.

These cravings have resulted in the disappearance of 1 entire bag of Lay's chips on Sunday, one 1/2 gallon of ice cream on Monday, approximately 50+ cookie poops on Tuesday, and a hearty piece of chocolate cake last night.

If you've seen any of these things, please don't report them to me. I've heard they exist in multiples, and if my strung-out cyclist's body lays an eye on them, there might be more freak disappearances.

I'll go along with the theory that your metabolism continues to burn at a higher rate after exercise...and that after 8.5 hours of cycling, that period is not just a few hours, but several days. I also believe that chocolate cake goes straight to my torn quads and sticks them back together with frosting.

Frey and Huddle would probably rip me a new one for this self-serving conclusion. But my stomach's happy. We'll see how the scale reacts at Monday's weigh-in.

Cycle on!

Taking the Plunge or Off the Deep End? How to Tell if Endurance Sports Have Stolen Your Sanity

I love exercise.

Exercise makes me feel in tune with my body, with nature, and with my friends. Call it an obsession, but I get jazzed wondering just how far I can push myself. Yes, I am addicted to endorphins.

It's offensive when nonbelievers write off a passion for exercise by negatively referring to it as "compulsive". No great athlete could achieve her full potential without being a little obsessive-compulsive about her workouts.


However, even I have been known to question the motives of some friends and their never-ending need to push themselves mentally and physically. I usually call their sanity into question when social activities, like eating dinner with friends, or family time, like eating dinner with family, gets pushed back indefinitely to make way for massages, ice baths, and the third (or more!) daily workout.

So how can you tell if you or your friends are simply taking the plunge into becoming the best endurance athlete you can be, or if you're sinking fast into the deep end, leaving your sanity floating above you? What could make two people doing the exact same workouts be separately categorized into "Plungers" or "Sinkers"?

Four years ago, I developed a very simple litmus test of athletic sanity that has held strong to this day. Ask yourself this simple question:

Is my passion (in this case for exercise and endurance competition) adversely affecting:

1. my health?
2. my happiness?
3. my relationships?

If the answer is no to all three things, you're doing just fine. Soldier on, Ironman, ultrarunner, ultracyclist, climber, adventure racer, etc! But if you can answer yes to any of these, maybe it's time to take a breather and work something out--without going for a long run or ride to clear your head!

There are a lot of subcategories that might fit in the three listed above. Is your passion hurting your finances? That might affect your happiness and relationships. Are you unhappy? Maybe you overdid your training. Backing off might restore your happiness and save you from wreaking havoc on your health.

Here's where the word "compulsive" truly takes on a negative connotation. If your body is destroyed and trying to tell you so by making you moody and unhappy--and you don't back off out of compulsion--you may have a problem (this being the negatively charged "exercise addiction") that needs to be addressed.

For me, at this point in my life, endurance sports have simply giveth. There has been no taketh-ing away. A love of triathlon has led me to my closest friends, and to my husband. It has blessed me with a sense of accomplishment, love and admiration for my body, and the self- confidence I was sorely lacking before taking the plunge.

It doesn't hurt that coachubby shares my exact same passion. It has made our relationship stronger, as we push each other to achieve more than we ever thought we could. (This includes peeing on the bike.)

Endurance sports have brought my family closer; madre's and padre's role as a perma parental cheer squad means almost every time we see each other, we have something fun to do and something to celebrate--and a reason (besides Jesus-related events) to get our bi-state clans together in the first place. Even padre got in on the action when we did a triathlon relay together last July--and won our division!

However, I know that if I made the same exact choices I'm making now regarding my training and race calendar and I had kids (sorry, Sir Gallahad, you're an independent kitty who can take care of himself for hours on end), I would be a Sinker, not a Plunger. It's all about priorities. And the three golden life factors: happiness, health, and relationships.

Have a kick butt, happy, healthy, friend-filled 2009 season!

Tucson's Fabled Mt. Lemmon Climb

I always thought you could tell a true cyclist by where he/she chose to buy a house. No true cyclist, I believed, would buy a house at the top of a mountain, or a home with a ridiculously steep driveway.

How terribly wrong I was.

It turns out a true cyclist--a world-class cyclist--would do exactly that, forcing him/herself to get stronger with every pedal stroke back home. Screw spinning for the last 10 minutes of a workout to flush out your legs!

Case in point: Mr. Lance Armstrong, as cycling lore has it, rented a cabin at the top of Mt. Lemmon while training for Le Tour a few years back, so all of his training rides ended with the 26-mile climb (starting at mile marker 0) from about 2,500 feet in elevation to over 8,000 feet.

While not particularly steep (the grade never surpasses 5%, and it is possible to survive with an 11-21 cassette), there is no respite from climbing for about 20.5 miles.


It may not be HC or "hors catégorie", but it certainly rates as DA, a "disappearing ass" ride-- unless you stop at the Mt. Lemmon Cookie Cabin in Summerhaven to fuel up on pizza and cookies to begin the rear replacement process. (And to add a few pounds for a lightening fast descent!)

In Phoenix for Christmas, coachubby and I decided we should drive on down to Tucson to give the climb a shot. Little did we know that the day we chose to ride was the first day the road had been opened after a snowfall. The warm temperatures and saguaros and desert landscape at the bottom did not foretell the wet and sometimes icy roads awaiting 13-ish miles up.

With toe covers, leg and arm warmers, a wind vest, thick gloves, a jersey, and a tank top underneath, I was a sweaty mess at the bottom. Everything that could get rolled up, scrunched down, unzipped, and stuffed in a pocket got rolled up, scrunched down, unzipped, and stuffed in a pocket.

With "26 miles" in my head as the distance I had to climb, it was a surprise when a decent descent appeared at mile 20.5. Turns out you don't climb too much more after 20.5 to get to Summerhaven. But don't worry, you'll still get your 26 miles of climbing in since you must go back the way you came.

Coachubby and I passed hundreds of families sledding, having snowball fights, building snowmen, and shoveling snow into their pickup beds for some reason I could not comprehend.

Needless to say, I have never ridden by people reveling in a winter wonderland. Ever. Particularly while exposing my arms and legs to the elements.

The descent was scenic, slick, and fabulous. Everything I was wearing got rolled down, pulled up, zipped up, and yanked from my pocket. I was snug and happy. Even snow families returning to the desert were respectful of my space, and didn't pass until it was comfortable for us all. Cycling bliss.

So if you're going to Tucson and feel you have a little too much junk in your trunk, or just want to pretend you're Lance (or a host of other famous athletes who train down there) and get in a great approximately 4 hour workout (3 up, 1 down), DO MT. LEMMON!

You won't be sorry. Unless you get knocked off of your bike by an errant snowball.

For a comparison of Mt. Lemmon and other US rides (in the West) to Le Tour de France stages, check out this awesome article on Daily Peloton.

IF you're going to the Tucson Tri Fest in March, you have no excuse not to climb Mt. Lemmon!

Directions to Mt. Lemmon:
From I-10 E from Phoenix, exit on Grant road. Turn left onto Grant road (E).
Left on E. Tanque Verde Road. Stay on this road.
Left onto Catalina Highway. You'll see a sign for Mt. Lemmon, and a mile marker 0. You can park on the side of the road here, or ride from town to make the ride longer.