The concept of cross-training is a sound one. Using different muscle groups in a rotation of semi-organized design. In long course triathlon we have been taking pages from this book for decades. Swim - bike - run -rest - repeat, has worked exceptionally well from athletes ranging in talent from Mark Allen to, well, myself. I got a rather rude re-introduction this morning.
A couple of very good friends, gifted and dedicated mountain bike racers, and long-time members of the PowerBarn, volunteered to act as trail guides as I wanted to shoot some off-road video of the course that will be used for an upcoming local race.
That was about all it took and we were meeting in the parking area, fitting my a bike and filling water bottles. Then we are off.
Amongst immediately I feel tension in both abductors, stress on my lower back and the ever present pain in my left elbow. Going to be a long morning I hear myself whine. Moving from the traditional roadie position into the more compact and technically demanding geometry of the high-end fully-shocked bike I was riding for the first time, added to my work load as I was riding with fore and aft Go-Pros. Not only must I keep up with the pack but maintain a steady, smooth and dynamic position as well. There were moments, steep quick climbs, over roots and rocks, twisting into and out of radical banks, whizzing past scrub pines and the walls of single-track Scotch-broom, Oregon Grape and Cedar stands, that I needed to make critical real-time decisions, what is the primary directive here? Life, limb, good video, nice ride or something that might border on the insane.
I went down once. Took a bad tack on a well-exposed alder root and (I think) locked up the front disc in emergency response. Worse was my climbing legs. One might think that a long consistent winter of indoor training would put me on a decent rung of the power to weight ladder, but this was pathetic. Thank God for the gearing ratio that allowed avoidance from the humiliating experience known to novices as walking it up.
We shall soon see exactly what the impact of two hours on the trails will be on my poor motor, to mention nothing of its connective ligaments, tendons, rods and rotors. Probably within five minutes of waking in the morning I suspect. I might be wrecked. I still have work to do today, so the video download will have to wait as well. I hope we captured some decent media.
Decent enough to maybe try it again next week. After all there were moments, however few, of the type of pure, woohoo inducing flow of which all mud-heads and gear-grinders swear is more fun than almost anything this side of a class one roller-coaster.
I’ll let ya know tomorrow. Happy St.Pats.
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