Packfiller Productions

What the hell is wrong with me?

I’ve started running again. Personal opinion here, but running sucks. The pounding, the aches and pains, the tiny legged gazelle types flying past me at the local 10k, you get it.

I’ve done what I promised myself I wouldn’t do. Signed up for a RUNNING race. Two of them, if you want to be specific. Nothing quite as stupid as having a great dinner, sitting on the deck, and ‘getting the courage’ to go online and register for a duathlon (the Lewiston Hell’s Gate Duathlon, this upcoming weekend) and, even worse, a half marathon (Leavenworth Oktoberfest Marathon).

Here’s my reasoning, let me know if I’m an idiot.
1. Lewiston is a shorter distance event (2 mile run, 13 mile bike, 2 mile run), and I’m actually going to be doing the event with my son, who has not raced his bike before but is a pretty good runner (didn’t get that from Dad). If you’ve never done this event before, they put it on twice per year to help the Lewis & Clark State cross country team. It’s actually a pretty fun event, low key, and happily short of douchebags who think they’re a victory away from Ironman Hawaii status. The wife and I have done this one a few times, and if you’re new to multisport, it’s not a bad way to get into the game.

Let me say this, however. Duathlon is not triathlon. Upon starting that second run, your back feels like you’ve been stuffed into Mel Gibson’s closet of horrors. Be ready, stretch, and have fun. If you go. Camp. There’s a great campground right there at the start/finish, and other than the occasional drunken fisherman telling stories too loudly at night, it’s a great time.

Ok, so that one’s justified.

2. Leavenworth. Ever been there? Think Germany without the short tempers. This town is almost too cute. The McDonald’s even has a Bavarian theme.

So what better way to celebrate Oktoberfest than in a “German” town? Cold steins, sausage as far as the eye can see, a chill in the air, and RUNNING?!?!

Have to blame the wife for this one. She’s the runner in the family.

Honestly, the half marathon is a perfect distance. The legs just start to hate you, and it’s over. Besides, the workout will justify a few pints of something other than the poseur beers that the low cal crowd are drinking. Yuk. Give me the good stuff, or forget about it.

Well, maybe this won’t be so bad. A duathlon with the kid (at least part of it is on the bike), and a half marathon followed by fatty foods to drown out the shinsplints and inability to walk a flight of stairs.

What the heck?

At least it’s not cyclocross. But that’s another entry altogether.

I’ve come to realize that perhaps I’m a tad judgemental, and, well, somewhat of a hypocrite. There, I said it.

I spend a good amount of time on the podcast talking about how cycling needs to be less elitist. Stop looking down your nose at cyclists who aren’t in your ‘circle’ of performance or preference. This is a sport that accepts all levels, right?

But I have a problem. Or problems…

So here’s my list, my Ten Commandments of Cycling. If you care.

1. Thou shalt not break the rules of the road. Same rights/roads/RULES. You’re just ruining it for the rest of us when you weave in and out of traffic, ignore red lights, and act like a self intitled hipster jackass.

2. Thou shalt not sit in and sprint. Get out there, attack, suffer, get dropped. If you can’t be aggressive, go down in flames. Be a part of the race, not some jackhole who gets third but never saw the front.

3. Thou shalt not wear day glo, unless you’re over the age of 60. Those wind jackets are nasty. Trust me, drivers will either see you or not, no matter what you’re wearing.

4. Thou shalt not be a ‘fast a-hole’, the type of rider who races well, but is so full of him/herself to neglect thanking volunteers, officials, race directors, and ‘fans’. These people are doing this for little to no money. Thank them.

5. Speaking of officials, thou shalt not consider thyself a higher species simply because you have an official’s license. I appreciate your work, but you don’t have to talk down to me when I’ve forgotten to strap my helmet. I’m 41, not 4.

And lose the hat. Looks silly.

6. Thou shalt not wear pro jerseys of any team that either currently exists, or you’re not a member of.

7. Thou shalt not take the sport over family. If your kid needs new shoes, don’t splurge on the carbon fiber bottle cages. In fact, buy the kid a bike. Ride with him/her/the wife. You’ll thank me for it.

8. Thou won’t go any faster by blowing money on the newest ‘thing’. I have a teammate who kicks ass on a true hot tub time machine from over 20 years ago. Just do some friggin’ intervals.

9. If thou is over the age of 30, the pro teams aren’t going to sign you for winning a weeknight sprint. Quit taking chances that could take out the entire group. We all gotta work tomorrow, and would enjoy it far more if you weren’t diving into corners, cutting off the group just to go home with a ribbon and three bucks to the local bike shop.

10. Lastly, thou shalt recruit at least one rider per year to the sport. Give back. Help someone choose a bike. Loan them some of the gear you have in the basement. Show someone how to ride/draft/race. Teach a kid to change a tire. You get it…

Ok. I feel better. Had to rant a bit. Officially off soap box.

For now.

Ok…
So, a lot of you have been asking about the podcast, and when a new edition will be posted. I promise, it’s not dead, and the Andy Hampsten interview wasn’t the last. We’re working on numerous personalities to interview, and I (Pat) am messing with the style of the show, changing from strictly interviews to more entertainment segments, gear reviews, and stuff that will make you laugh.

Plan on the continuing participation of the Packfiller characters, along with some ‘on the road’ type of segments that take the show out of the studio.

In the mean time, let us know what you’d like to hear on the show, as well as WHO you’d like us to track down and talk with.

Feel free to comment to this post on any suggestions, other than items that would hurt Pat’s ever so gentle feelings.

What a wuss.

Ok, last night was a mini nightmare, and I mean MINI.

The twilight series transferred ownership for a day from the Baddlands club to Spokane Rocket Velo. First of all, thanks to BOTH of these clubs. Racing exists in this community largely from the efforts of these groups.

The course promised something I love, few hills. Rolling terrain was used many times in description. “Pat,” I thought to myself, “this is something you would do pretty well at.” (I know, I ended a sentence with a preposition, but heck, it’s my inner voice…

So I drove out to the race, paid my thirteen bucks, and got ready to roll with the A pack.

Herein lies the first problem. The A pack. I’m coming back to cycling from a MULTIPLE year layoff. Fitness is coming, but not quite there yet. My teammates, RT in particular, were ‘upgraded’ to the A pack the day of my birthday. Did they/we win a lot of races, forcing us to move up? Nope. Sure, RT won some, but not in a dominating style. CL managed some placings, but at the expense of his complete energy reserves. B pack racing was fun, competitive, and I was able to participate in the action of the race.

Last night, not so much. I basically paid $2 for every mile I was in the pack. Yep. That’s just over six miles. These guys were flying. It’s as if we had all stolen something, and were being chased. My heart rate was anaerobic in the friggin’ NEUTRAL start! After turning around (no way I was going to ride 23 miles alone in 90+ degree heat), I pedaled back to my car, packed up, and drove home in self produced shame. I probably looked like a kid who got picked last for dodgeball. I had thought about using the Pat Cam for the race, but thankfully didn’t as the footage would have been basically of the Palouse countryside. No other racers in the picture…

The fitness is not there, yet, but I’m racing with my teammates. Sure wish there was a way to keep the team in the time machine of one month ago, at least for a few more weeks…sigh.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. I know this is bike racing, and fitness must be earned.

I just wanna earn it faster, with very little effort on my part required.

No. Before you think to yourself, wow, he finally screwed his marriage up, don’t go there. That’s not what I mean.

About fifteen years ago (good God, has it been that long?) my wife and I had a crazy idea. You see, she married a guy who loved cycling, along with all of the toys that came along with it. He loved the times riding, the places he could go, and the friends and experiences associated with it. Not sure wether or not she had a choice, but she signed up for the job, and started riding herself (along with learning all of the terminology, tactics, and proper pronounciation of the riders in the pro peloton. Hey, you try figuring out Johan Museeuw or Djamolodine Abdujaparouv).

The only concern was, and this is in NO WAY a statement of bravado, that it wasn’t really fair. You see, I had, let’s see, a good FIFTEEN year had start on the sport, and her fitness base was primarily in running and basketball (you should see her drain a baseline jumper, but that’s another story). So the idea was this, buy a tandem.

Thanks to a national magazine classified ad (this was before the internet, remember then?) a slightly used Cannondale tandem was found in nearby Montana, and a lifetime of experiences born.

If you haven’t tried a tandem, you don’t know what you’re missing. First of all, it truly is a marriage counselor. Ride together, arrive together. You MUST work together, in sync, and I mean more than simply moving your feet at the same time. When not working together, the bike can feel like a true anchor. Our first ride, a short 18 mile loop, took just over an hour an a half. We were both sore for a few days from that one. Hills were more painful than a 24 hour forced screening of Mannequin. An all day dentist trip. You get the idea.

When working together, the flatlands feel like you’re diesel powered. Riders on ‘singles’ fight to get into your draft. Downhills are REALLY fast. I’m talking like poop through a goose here. Hills?!? Hills are like, well, hills still kinda suck. But not as bad.

This bike has been to Europe. This bike has taken us through four countries. This bike has had an eccentric bottom bracket installed for my son to ride in the stoker’s seat (that’s the one in back) with his mom and dad. The memories this bike holds are irreplaceable. You should’ve seen this one time, when a doofus on a cell phone tried to cut us off, the wife was up off the bars slamming into the side of the car shouting WHILE we were both swerving to avoid hip to POS car fender. Poetry.

So, last night, we dusted the old blue train off. I put new tape on the bars, and we went out and rode the same loop we did some fifteen years ago, but backwards this time. The hill was actually steeper this way, but we made it. Conversation was light. The tempo smooth. Riding the hill hurt, I’m not going to lie.

But we reached the top, together.

I dare you. Try this out. Borrow a friend’s tandem. Get out there.

But you can’t use mine.

Last minute addition to the announcing schedule! If you’re bored, searching for cheap entertainment, or simply, well, RACING the Troika Triathlon in Spokane this Sunday, August 1st, we’d like to apologize nice and early as Pat will be emceeing the finish line events from 11-3:00.

Come and cheer on friends, family, and teammates, or simply hang out in Riverfront park with Packfiller and the residents of Spokane’s Riverfront Park free shower, um, I mean fountain.

This is the time of the summer when things slow down a bit. The days are hotter, I have no A/C, the regular ale of choice tastes a bit heavy in the heat, and the announcing schedule has an apparent gap. I’m not travelling to area events to shoot my mouth off to people who pay to suffer immense amounts of pain, loving every minute of it.

That has me thinking. I freely admit that I announce a great amount of triathlon events, and yet am only the finisher of one triathlon (many duathlons, however). I usually refer to myself as a cyclist, although for many years only in name and smooth legs, not so much in actual road miles. This is the first year I can actually begin to garner the actual term, thanks to some sort of macho agreement to inflict personal pain made with three other guys (I know, that sounds wrong).

Here’s the deal, the triathlon events I attend are HUGE. All ages, genders, sizes, shapes, and even socioeconomic levels attend these suckers, and very few actually plan on ‘competing’ for a place, and that usually earns a simple ribbon or medal. People are having a great time at these events, many just trying desperately to make it to the finish line. Friends and family are there, cheering, laughing, taking pictures, or even competing themselves. The last finisher gets as much, or at times even more cheering than the first.  It’s pretty cool. Participant numbers grow yearly, leading to actual LIMITS on how many people can race. The area hotels booked, sponsors in attendance, trade/expo areas busy.

The bike races? Not so much. Numbers are fairly small, with the ‘usual faces’ in attendance, and mostly the same people competing that were doing so last year, and the year before, and so on… The crowds are ok, but mostly other bike racers.

So. Why is this? I think Triathlon has figured something out. People don’t want to come to a competition, get sized up and down by elitist competitors, dropped, and finish alone in the middle of nowhere while the race crew are packing up the finish area. High end Tri athletes tend to be approachable (ok not all of them), willing to share thoughts and advice, and stick around after the event to check things out. Kids are encouraged to participate, with special distances, categories, themes, and prizes for all who enter. The women’s category is BIGGER than the men’s (are you hearing this, single guys?).

Don’t get me wrong, I love bike racing. Tri also has it’s flaws. Fashion = ewww. These people RARELY have a beer. They’re all too darned beautiful and shaven. The guys love to walk around with their shirts off. We get it already, you’re fit. Now cover up in the name of all things Puritain.

It’s just that bike racing needs to rethink some elements. Help make the sport more attractive to first timers. Kids. Women. Less middle aged men with big checkbooks who have something to prove. Give competitors something to race for, not just a spot in the pack.

I know it sounds cheesy, but FAMILY events are the big thing. Bike racers, just like Tri athletes, have family. How can you/we get the family members out on their bike to compete? Think about it…

Perhaps this Gran Fondo concept is a good idea. A timed tour… hmmmm.

Photo courtesy of bodyinmotion.co.uk

Not all things change with time…

So, I’m another year older. The day of my birth has come and gone, and, compared to last year, (the meeting of a new decade), somewhat mellow. I raced my bike with my great ‘new’ team.

You see, these guys have been cyclists all of their lives, wether or not they were racing bikes. We all started in our wee years, with bony knees, dink marks from the chain (see my earlier post) on our legs, and appetites that could, and should have, put any steady income earning family into the poor house.

We’ve all decided to come back to this element of racing (we all have ridden, some) at the same time, and thought, heck, let’s get the old team together. Kind of like the Blues Brothers’ getting the band together, but with more colorful clothing and shaved legs. The racing has been hard, but always fun after the fact when we’ve held on, been up there, and most importantly, involved in the race.

That’s where I have some concern. You see, even after YEARS away from the sport, some things haven’t changed. Some for the better, some not so much. I’m talking about non-aggressive racing. Sitting in. Sucking wheel and sprinting.

This so called ‘tactic’ is, and always will be, an unfortunate element of bike racing. It’s very specific to cycling, as I can’t think of another sport where a person of less strength can simply use others for the benefit of a high placing. Sure, in running there is some draft, but you are still working pretty stinking hard. Cycling provides a good 40% less effort when sitting in the pack, snug as a snail in the dirt.

It’s not a bad way to get placed in the top of a race. Think about it, hold on in the comfort of the pack, sprint for 500 meters, take home prizes.

But let’s put this into perspective here…

What is at stake in a local race? Are careers on the line? Pro contracts waiting for the victor of a small club race? Don’t think so. Aren’t we paying for the chance to compete? So then, why not COMPETE with some effort? Sitting in simply doesn’t make better bike racers. It is a way to do little to the overall event, and makes for some pretty good grumblings along the way from your fellow competitors.

Do yourself a favor, try the front. If you’re going to die a quick death (like I did last night) time your efforts, but make an effort just the same. I’ve always felt that to attack and go down in a blaze of lactic fueled glory is far better than a pack sprint for tenth place. Or even first place, for that matter.

Friends don’t let friends suck.

Photo from Alex Renner, Pegasus Media

So there I was…

I admit it, I’m a Tour junkie. I’m up at the wee hours of the morning, coffee cup in hand, watching through one eye hazed with sleep while Phil and Paul provide me with the commentary of my wake up period. I tend to sleep on and off, waking when the energy of the British voices indicate something exciting happening in the race. Fortunately, for DVR, I can even rewind the events I might have dozed through…

Yesterday, Sunday, July 11th will always be known as a ‘moment’ in my adult life. I think I became a man that day. Does that sound cheesy? Too dramatic?

Lance is mortal. I watched in disbelief. Bad luck beat him about the head like a Tom and Jerry cartoon. He rode along, dirtied backside from the French tarmac that he had tasted more than once that day, stone faced and calm. Apparently, the Euskatel riders stay upright like a Cat 5 racer on meth. They were falling everywhere, with Lance becoming victim to the events more than once.

Sure, it’s a part of the sport. It’s amazing that he hasn’t had this kind of a day prior in his SEVEN victories. Talk about luck.

I changed that day, just as I entered a different phase in my life when Greg LeMond finally gave in to the buckshot, and Miguel Indurain, with the Spaniard becoming the ‘new’ Tour rider of the decade.

My Santa Clause became my dad in a red suit. My Babe Ruth just a fat guy who drank and ate too much. My wife, watching with me at the time, said I looked like I was going to cry. Like Bambi after the forest fire.

Sure, Andy had a great ride, potentially taking a chunk out of the Pistolero annoyance. Levi was up there, which is good. Mr. Stout Chin Evans is in yellow, which is cool for BMC…

But this is about me. I’m turning 41 tomorrow. That’s kind of old in cycling years. Lance was leading the charge for us fantasy guys. We all straddled the top tube again, knowing that, if he could kick Tour ass, we could at least attempt the weeknight race series. Heck, I was even considering going to the “A” group on my birthday to suffer with the Fasties.

But now, he’s way down in the standings. I feel like yelling at my tv like Mel Gibson before hitting the town. I’m grumpy.

I just hope he does something epic. Not ‘Floyd epic’, don’t get me wrong. That’s all I need is the French pulling a testosterone sample from Lance that would put hair on even a guy like Levi.

C’mon Lance. I’m no bandwagon guy. I’ve been with you since Subaru Montgomery…

So… today is supposed to be a race day in Redmond, but the Tour stage, my laziness, and a good evening prior led to a great ride in the hills of Anacortes, WA. I think this view beats suffering in a crit…