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This is a topic we’re all getting very familiar with: stress. Biologically speaking, stress refers to the failure of an organism to respond appropriately to emotional or physical threats, whether those threats are real or imagined. Short term effects of stress on human beings result in a physiological state of alarm creating elevated levels of epinephrine and norepinephrine, neurotransmitters associated with blood pressure, heart rate, and insomnia. Stress can also lead to a decrease in serotonin levels, a neurotransmitter which keeps epinephrine and norepinephrine levels in check. This vicious circle can lead to anxiety, depression, chronic fatigue, and other physiological maladies including decreased production of dopamine, which controls the human body’s way of inducing states of relaxation and mental focus. In fact, it is estimated that between 60% and 90% of all doctors’ visits are directly correlated to high stress levels.

Dealing with stress can take a negative and turn it into a positive. In fact, the term “eustress” (derived from the Greek “eu,” meaning well, or good) denotes a physiological response to stress which leads to a positive adaptation. One example of eustress is found in the training principle of sports periodization whereby judiciously applied intense intervals of physiological stress (training) produce the adaptive benefit of strength and improved performance.

Another form of eustress comes in the form of regular exercise. Working exercise into your daily routine is the single best way to deal with stress. Exercise can dramatically counter the short term effects of stress by increasing endorphin levels, which in cause disinhibits the brain’s production of dopamine and serotonin. Increased levels of endorphins cause the euphoric feeling known as “runners’ high,” improve mental clarity and focus, reduce insomnia, decrease the desire for fatty and high carbohydrate foods, and generally impart a feeling of control and overall well being.

At Cadence, exercise is the core of our existence. Using our expertise in the fields of cycling, running, swimming, and multisport we are here to help you take control of your life by turning your stress into a positive. Stop by Cadence NY or Cadence Philadelphia and we'll suggest events, services, products, and other ways you can turn distress into eustress so you can feel better about yourself, sleep better at night, improve your relationships, and focus better to take control of your life!

Labels: coping with stress, stress, stress and exercise

What You've Missed

I am running a marathon (that's for those who can't be bothered to read old blog entries) After our little bet was made, I knew I had very little time to get into running shape. I think I spent a good week "getting ready" to run. Buying shoes, shorts and tops; reading up on the newest running training theories and sitting down and mapping out my own training on trainingpeaks. I did just about everything a good runner can do... except run. I wasn't really looking forward to that part of it. As a cycling coach who is realizing more and more just how many triathletes are out there, I was excited to gain some experience in the "Multisport" world. If I studied up on running techniques and theories I would be more marketable as a coach and I was thoroughly enjoying my studies... just not the running part. That part I was dreading!

History

I want to make it clear to everyone that I am not a beginning runner. My pops ran marathons when he was younger and still ran almost everyday when I was young. I'm not sure how young I was, but my mom would wake me up before school and meet my dad at the end of the driveway when he finished his run and I would jog with him for a mile on his cool down. This progressed into running 3-5 miles with him by the time I was in the 5th grade or so. We did this for years until I starting running for school. I was obsessed with running, much in the same way I am with cycling now. I can't get enough of the culture, the people, the places. I love it and I loved running the same way. I continued in high school and was an above average runner. I ran a 16:16 5k in cross country my junor year, which wasn't fast enough to go to state. I missed it by 3 places. I broke 10 minutes in the 2 miles and that wasn't even fast enough to get me out of our conference meet.

Since I took up the bike I, or mostly my coaches, have tried to get me to run during the off season. I never made it more than 20 minutes and then I'd be so sore for a week I couldn't move. So I may not be a beginning runner but I haven't competed or ran for more than 3 miles in nearly 10 years.

The First Run

I knew if I just walked out the door I'd either be back home in 20 minutes or at the pub having a pint. No, I needed a different plan. Then it hit me. I had left my bike at work the day before and got a ride home. I needed to go pick it up later that day anyways, so I decided to run there, from Fairmount to Manayunk. It's ONLY 6 miles. I could do that. Even if I had to walk the whole way minus the first 20 minutes I still would be ok. It was decided. I threw on all my new gear (you gotta look good, even if you're walking) and headed out the door.

Fast forward 20 minutes. I am dying I think. Lungs are burning, legs feel like rubber. Maybe I'll just turn around I thought. But something kept me going. 30 minutes in and I was plateaued. I wasn't hurting worse than 10 minutes ago but I also wasn't hurting less. The good news is I haven't stopped to walk yet. 45 minutes in and something kicked in. I'm not sure what it was but my stride opened up, my HR slowed and a light breeze hit my face. I ran the last 15 minutes down Main St at what I figured was a pretty good clip. I felt like I was back in high school. I stopped in front of Cadence, amazed that I just ran here from home. I looked around and smiled. I can do this.

Tune in next time when I run 12 miles on only my 4th run back. (Stupid!)

The Challenge...


If you are reading this you are one of two people. You are either a cyclist or a triathlete (somewhere Mike Kuhn just yelled, "What about Mountain Bikes?") We've all been there, riding along the Skuykil river path minding our own business when one of "those" people buzz by us. We utter something under our breath, making massive stereotypes about an entire sporting event. You all know what I'm talking about. Even here at Cadence the cycling coaches and Tri coaches have differing opinions on things.

A few weeks ago in our meeting, we were discussing the schedule of our new distance running class. (If you're just hearing about this, it's not too late to sign up) It all started pretty harmless. We were trying to name the course and figure out our target audience for the class. The Tri coaches thought it should be called "Distance running for Triathletes" to which I said, "yeah but what about those cyclist who just finished their season and want to do some cross training?"

The cycling coaches were silent and the tri coaches chuckled. No cyclist would ever want to do distance running the cycling coaches said in unison. No cyclist COULD do distance running spoke the tri coaches ...

"We COULD," I barked back, "we just choose not to because our sport is better." Oops, I went to far. It was on. We started going at it as to why our respective sports were better than the other. Cyclist are too mean, cut throat racing, Triathletes are too nice to each other, no competitiveness among the masses. Cyclist are bullies, hogging up the streets and paths with their big group rides, triathletes are all over the road and have poor bike handling skills. Back and forth we went and somewhere in there I, for some unknown reason, took the entire cycling world on my shoulders and hushed the room. "I can and will run a marathon. I will train with the class and run Philly at the end of November. I ran in high school and I could get ready for it in 10 weeks no problem." The cycling coaches had a look like I just signed my death sentence. The tri coaches said the deal had to be more than just finishing. I'm an elite cyclist. I could finish 26.2 miles. It may take me 5 hours, but I could get through it. No, it had to be tough, this was for bragging rights. I would have to break 3 hours to win this bet they decided. Something that, I am now learning, is going to take all my focused energy to train and race for.

My racing season has ended and I am in full running mode. Bought the shoes, bought the gear and headed out for my first run Monday morning. But you'll have to wait for the details of my death march until next time...

Til then, happy riding (or running, i guess)

It's Tuesday afternoon and that means one thing... The Drives Ride. Every Tuesday during the summer many of the coaches peel themselves away from their computers and kit up to see if we can break each other's legs. I am especially excited this week because I am taking the helmet cam out on the ride to put up on Cadence TV so you all have fun videos to watch while you sit on your trainers all winter.

The Drives

The Drives is my favorite workout of the week and I truly look forward to every Tuesday. I call it my "Redline Workout" because I never go into the ride trying to win; I go trying to lose. Every week I try to hurt myself as much as I can at the front of the group. Can I chase down attacks, ride off the front and take more pulls than anyone else in the group and still have enough left to contend for the sprint? This has helped my racing immensely as I've still yet to hurt myself enough to keep me from finishing with the group. I've come close a couple times but each time I am able to dig deep and grab that last wheel and hold on until I've recovered. It has taught me that I CAN attack after the hardest climb in the race; I CAN cover multiple moves in a row for a teammate up the road in a break and I CAN sprint, even after I've fought in the wind to get into position in the last lap. You can never know your limits if you don't test them.

Off the front

Every once in a while a pro or two will show up and try to make everyone suffer a little more. Tyler Wren, Scotty Z, Geronimo, Dom Rollin. These guys are some of the best in the country and the ride becomes more fun when they show up. A few weeks ago Dom was in town and came out to mix it up with the local guys. The ride was nothing out of the ordinary, high pace, usually right around 29mph with 10-15 guys rotating up front. With a couple of miles to go I found Dom's wheel and stuck to it. About a mile from the sprint sign is a 200meter rise and that is where Dom made his move. He stood and attacked and I gave it everything I had to stick to him. Up and over the hill he went and we didn't look back; I knew we had a gap. 10 seconds later he flicked his elbow. "No way I can take a pull at these speeds," I thought but then I remember why I come out here. Maybe this is the day I can find my limit! I dug deeper than I had ever dug before and took a pull. It was probably only 20 seconds before Dom came around me for the sprint but it felt like an eternity. I had just gone off the front with Dom Rollin, winner of a stage at the Tour of California, Canadian National Champion... what a feeling. I couldn't wait to get home and look at the helmet cam video and download my power file. I bet I crushed my previous 2 minute max wattage.

My best numbers ever!

I hurried home and told my girlfriend, Kathleen, all about my successes. She was thrilled. I flipped open my computer and started downloading the data and then took out the camera to show Kathleen the last 5 minutes. I hit rewind but was confused when it only rewound for a second or two. I hit play and it hit me; I must have hit the off switch when I was putting it in my pocket before the ride began. I had no footage, none. I was devastated. I couldn't believe I had a camera and didn't get any of that great ride. But it was about to get worse. My files uploaded and I didn't see tonight's workout on the list. I looked at the head unit and saw it flashing there right in front of me... FULL. I must not have deleted my files from the last time and I never noticed it during the ride because I was keeping my head up the whole time because of the camera. I had nothing to show from my best ride ever. I couldn't believe it and did not sleep well that night.

The Moral isn't "keep diligent with erasing your powermeter"

As a coach you sometimes become fixated with numbers. Your numbers, your athletes numbers, Pro numbers. Science is easy to fall back on because it is quantitative. You produce more watts for a given duration, you are stronger than you were. Simple. But sometimes we forget that we are bike racers too. We don't do this for the numbers. We do this for race results. We do this to be stronger than the other guy. We do this for wins! The racing gods, in their infinite (though lousy) wisdom would not let me have any proof of that Drives ride... because it doesn't count for anything. Numbers are a great tool to follow progression but they cannot be the end goal. Podium pictures and medals should be what matters; for either you or your team. I wasn't ready to see numbers from that Drives ride because I would have been content with myself when I haven't even stepped on the podium once this season. I would have to prove I could do it in a race.

The Aftermath

So it's Tuesday again and I'm off the front at the Drives again and my legs are killing me. But not because I had a great workout yesterday and got some good numbers. My legs hurt because I spent 60 miles in the 4 man break at the state road race this past Sunday and finished 3rd!

It's not about the numbers unless the number is your finishing place!

Bob Roll is beloved for his witty cycling commentary and enlightening insider perspective on the pro peloton. Like any great storyteller, Bob's commentary shares elements of fact, embellishment, absurdity, and flat-out falsehood and where the line is drawn between fact and fiction is downright difficult to tell. Reading Bob or listening to him tell a story is akin to reading Jorge Luis Borge or Hunter S. Thompson; it's up to the reader to decipher where absurdity trumps reality (or vice versa).

When I was a 20 year-old going to Ft. Lewis College in Durango, CO all of us members of the local cycling club, the Durango Wheel Club, would get abuzz and excited when rumor spread that "Bobke" was coming to town. At that time, Bob had transitioned from 7-11 to Motorola, and he would sometimes show up on our Sunday morning rides. Bob had made Durango his home along with Ned Overend, John Tomac, Greg Herbold, and a number of other pros who bridged between road and mountain bike racing. But Bob was the one who got everyone excited: his stories of the peloton were notorious even then.

Eighteen years later I heard Bob give a talk on the East Coast to a cycling club in Delaware. Amid raucous laughter causing a steady stream of hands wiping tears from eyes, Bob said something that struck me as particularly profound. He said, "I'd put 200 cyclists against the best army in the world." He then paused, reflected with a rubbing of his chin, and revised: "Nah, that's not right. I'd only need 100!"

I recall this comment because today I sit at my computer instead of getting out for my usual Sunday 4 to 5 hour training ride. Yesterday, after a 75 mile ride, I was all but 3 miles from home when, negotiating a twisty descent I've ridden two hundred times before, my front wheel washed out and I went down hard and fast. When my front wheel slipped I thought to myself, "There's no way you're going to right this ship." In a flash I went from an upright 25 mph to the ground and was sent sliding along moist, snot-slick pavement towards the roadside berm. During what seemed like an interminable chute the thoughts "this isn't going to end well" and "the longer I slide the more damage I'm doing" kept churning over in my shock-addled skull. I hit the dirt, rolled a few times in what I hoped wasn't poison ivy, and came to a ruined rest on my right side: the side opposite that hit the road.

At that point a kind of out-of-body experience took place, and this seems always the same after crashes. I took a mental inventory of my body by looking down on myself in a kind of "view from nowhere" sort of way. At just shy of 6'0" and all of 140 odd pounds I thought, man, you look really delicate lying there covered in dirt, road grime, and everything else clinging to your sweat-sticky flesh. I noticed the top ratchet on my Sidi shoe had been shorn off from friction, and that there were a few live worms stuck to my surprisingly skinny legs. But, nothing broken. Everything accounted for. Right, get yourself up.

Ouch. Already my left hip is three times its normal size and it's straining at my bibshorts. Above my waist, where the iliac crest of the pelvis protrudes, I noticed that swelling is protruding my jersey. My arms are wrapped around my chest because it hurts to breath, and in my hunched-over, stinging state I note that something is indeed missing: a good bit of skin from my from my fore- and upper-arm. But what can one do but right their steed, mount it, and head home for the inevitably curse-filled shower and scrub.

Three weeks earlier while traveling this same stretch of road a souped-up SUV full of teenagers revved behind me and roared to pass. As this multi-ton death wagon raged past I was suddenly pelted with hands full of coinage: pennies, nickels, dimes, and even quarters were hurled at me from this rapidly advancing steel encased tonnage. The final "insult" was an extended middle finger on a skinny white arm which contrasted appropriately against the menacing black body of the SUV. Rage broiled inside of me. What cowardice! What ignorance!

As cyclists, we've all know the insult of ignorant, bullying motorists, and we've all known the injury of the unforgiving macadam. Nonetheless, we trundle on: day after day, year after year, we ride. There's some inner calling, some atavistic drive, that makes us march on like soldiers in a trancelike state following orders. But most of us are just weekend warriors, and even if we're Cat 1 or Cat 2 of even Cat 5 competitors, we have but a fraction of the tenacity and truly warrior-like mentality of the pros who daily do battle in the Grand Tours or over the cobbles of northern Europe often times with broken bones and large percentages of their bodies covered in road rash (a euphemism for burnt flesh). Those guys are the real warriors.

So, okay, I'm back to Bob Roll. And a few years after hearing the above referenced speech, I'm again struck by his comment. Maybe it would only take 100 pro cyclists to stave the world's greatest armies. 100 pros and maybe, just maybe, a few of us regular guys, too.

If you noticed the Philly race last weekend it was clear how much environmental heat and humidity affect performance. The race time was a full 30 min slower than the previous year and less than half of the field finished with many riders pulling out with serious heat stress and dehydration. Adding to the stress is that it was the first very hot and humid day this summer, and many riders have not yet acclimatized to racing in such conditions.

Research on exercise performance and temperature clearly show the detrimental effects temperature can have. In a landmark study by Galloway and Maughn, the exercise intensity that could be maintained on a cycle ergometer for 92 min at 11 degrees Celsius (52 degrees F) decreased to just 51 min after cycling in a 30 degree environment (86 degrees F) (1).

During prolonged exercise in the heat, athletes can lose water at a rate of 1-2 L every hour (2-4 lbs). Think of a 2 L bottle of soda, and that’s just the amount of sweat lost in 1 hour! Each pound of body weight loss corresponds to 450 mL (15 fluid ounces) of dehydration. According to Coyle, every liter of water loss will raise your heart rate for a given intensity by 8 beats per minute (2).

In order to combat this dehydration and resultant cardiovascular stress athletes need to consume an equal amount of water as lost through sweating. A 72 kg athlete (158 lb) requires about 35-70 g/h of carbohydrate and 625-1,250 mL/h fluid during prolonged exertion. That’s about 2.5 typical cycling water bottles full of a 6% carbohydrate solution. Athletes should have no problem drinking this amount and can typically consume 1200-1500 ml/h of fluids, however, many athletes do not drink this amount, and even in moderate temperatures, this can result in a reduction in performance due to dehydration. So for a hard 2.5 hour race an athlete needs to consume at least 7 water bottles of fluid. However, during extreme heat and humidity, especially when an athlete is not acclimatized to it, the rate of water loss can exceed 2 L/h, increasing your requirements to approximately 10 water bottles during a 2.5 hour race. That’s 1 bottle every 15 minutes. At these rates it becomes a losing battle and even if you did consume that amount of fluid, chances are you would not be able to digest this amount fast enough.

So pay attention to your water loss from sweating on your training rides and get an idea of exactly how much you sweat for a given temperature. Each pound of weight loss is approximately 450 mL (15 fluid ounces) of sweat and dehydration. Then formulate a drinking strategy to replenish these losses for each hour of your event. This will give you an idea of what you require to perform at your best in the heat.

1. Coyle, Edward (1994) Fluid and carbohydrate replacement during exercise: How much and why? SSE#50, Volume 7 (1994), Number 3

2. Galloway, SDR, and R.J. Maughan (1995). Effects of ambient temperature on the capacity to perform prolonged exercise in man. J. Physiol., 1995: 489: 35-36P.

Being a fly fisherman as well as a competitive cyclist I started to reflect on the two sports during my recent trip with Cervelo to the Giro d'Italia. Passionate as I am about both sports, I started to draw (perhaps overzealous) analogies. Disanalogous as the two may in practice be, in principle the passion and diversity shared by their mutual participants is perhaps unrivaled among all other sporting endeavors. From an obsession with products and cutting edge technology, to a compulsive addiction to literature and all things lifestyle-related, cyclists and fly fishermen share numerous similarities, none of which, however, is more similar than the yen to search out the best grounds (or waters!) on which to play.

The search for the perfect stretch of water or the ideal sinew of road borders on obsessive if not obscene. Who, for example, is willing to travel the globe in search of the perfect football (soccer) patch or turf, the perfect basketball court, the world's finest baseball venue, or the nirvana of all tennis courts? Who, other than cyclists, will clear two weeks of their schedule and risk divorce from their spouse to travel to remote, often foreign, mountainous regions just to worship on their sport's most noble battlegrounds? Fly fishermen will literally scour the globe looking for the perfect trout stream: be that in the nether reaches of Chile, New Zealand, even the Kamchatka Penninsula, or as near as the headwaters of the Arkansas in the Colorado Rockies. Like fly fisherman, cyclists (both competitive and passionate enthusiasts) will trundle all around the planet in search of fabled stretches of straight and serpentine streets. These roads--draped and strewn over mountains, meadows, and marshes like spaghetti randomly tossed by God's own hand--are the cathedrals of cycling and they beckon the souls of cyclists with the same persuasive power as the Khalifa calling the faithful to Mecca.

In just the last 8 months I've had the wonderful good fortune to ride in Mallorca, the French Pyrenees, along the coast of the Adriatic in central Italy, and most recently the Dolomites of northeastern Italy. For each trip I've packed my Cervelo SLC SL into a well-trusted Thule bike case and trusted the travel gods to see it safely deposited at each destination. Anyone who has traveled with a bike knows this is no easy task. Aside from logistical problems of lugging a 30 Kg super-oversized piece of luggage, there are the inevitable quarrels at check-in regarding random upcharges and over-size baggage fees. More often than not, your bike will not arrive with your flight, but will show up a day or two later (NB: because you're paying to fly your bike, you can ask for a priority lable to be placed on your bike case: this will insure that it is sent with your flight and will virtually guarantee same-time arrival). The point of all this is that massive dedication is involved in traveling with a bike to a far-off locale. It requires a mental tenacity, physical strength, patience, and fair bit of good humor way beyond that of traveling with running shoes or tennis racquets.

But as the traveling cyclist knows, the pay-off is immense. For the competitive cyclist, the opportunity to train in the Alps, Pyrenees, or Dolomites will provide a clear advantage during racing season: leg strength, sub-lactate and lactate power, aerobic efficiency and sustained anaerobic power will dramatically increase from just a few hundred miles in these unrelenting mountains. For the sporting cyclist, who above all enjoys a spirited ride on the hallowed roads of cycling's greatest feats, the vistas, people, camaraderie, and proud claim "I've ridden there!" whilst watching a grand tour imbue a cycling adventure with a kind of intrinsic worth that goes way beyond the price tag. In both cases, the ability to immerse yourself in the local culture in an extremely intimate way is priceless. Riding a bike in a foreign country does not always come with the same stigma and cruelty one may experience in regions of the U.S., and in many countries, when you're a cyclist, you already speak the local patois: verbal barriers are broken down by a common love for the ride, the bike, and the heroes of the sport.

Most recently I had the very good fortune to join Gerard Vroomen and Tom Fowler from Cervelo on a 9 day cycling spree in Italy. Joining us was Francesco Sergio, who is in charge of European Cervelo sales. With a small cadre of other riders from the States and Europe we delighted in the company of the UCI's #1 ranked women's pro team, Cervelo LifeForce. Stationed in Gabicci Mare, just south of Rimini, the pervasively morbid reminder of Pantani, we enjoyed some seriously hardcore and aggressive training with the team. After 3 days and twice as many rides along the Adriatic's coastal ranges it was time for some Giro action, so we headed far north to our hotel at the base of the fabled Passo Pordoi. The Pordoi was one of the featured climbs during Stage 15 of the 2008 Giro d'Italia and so it also featured prominently in the Dolomites Stars Giro d'Italia Granfondo (actually, Stage 15) which we rode on Saturday, May 24th--one day prior to the pros.

If you have yet to do a granfondo (cyclosportif, in French) it is highly recommended. The tempo you set on such a ride is up to you and your legs: some attend these events to race for the prize money and honor of winning. Others, like our group this year, ride it for the challenge and the lifetime opportunity to experience Europe's great racing roads as would a pro peloton: with support and access only to cyclists. Along the way you'll experience a few crowds cheering words of encouragement to ease your suffering, tremendous views, and a dramatically greater appreciation for what a pro cyclist has to endure to earn a living at a wage exponentially less than that of almost any other professional athlete.

Labels: cycling travel, cycling vacation, giro, granfondo, tour of italy