Thoughts of an RPMer

This is my fourth year of running the 6:30 a.m. RPM classes. I couldn't possibly recollect every single workout I've had the class do, and I'd never expect one of the athletes to do the same. But there is one workout that everyone who comes through the class does three times, and that workout is known colloquially as the 20 minute test. We use this workout as a way to calculate you maximal sustained 1-hour power, better known as Functional Threshold Power, or "FTP." We do this workout once the first week of class, once in the middle, and once at the end to track your fitness progress. 

Over my four years, I've occasionally chosen to workout with the class. I can only do this if there are a limited number of people in the class, if I know ahead of time that there are going to be a limited number of people in the class so I can prepare, & if I am motivated to do an incredibly intense workout at 6:30 a.m. As I was quoted on Facebook recently, ""That's what I've been making those poor people do every morning at 6a.m.? I'm so, so sorry..." While i"m a morning person, it's just hard for me to push myself supremely hard before noon. And so these occasions where I ride with my class are rare, and since only 12% of the classes are 20-minute tests, my opportunities to ride a 20-minute test as the RPMers do--not privately but on display for all to see how I do--are few and far between. But for the third time in four years, I did the 20 minute test, this time alongside the collegiate RPM class, with 5 riders from the University of Pennsylvania cycling team.  In what follows, I try to recapture my thoughts as the test progressed. 


0:00 Arghhhh here we go. Up out of the saddle get that number up high and hold it., 450 watts 4 seconds in and I feel great. Wow, I must be really good at this. Could it be? Yes, I'm a natural, like Robert Redford! Legs going like two great steam locomotives, pumping away, I'm ... unstoppable, I'm....that number sure is falling fast? I can't seem to... JEEZ this is getting hard. I ...I should sit. I can't do 450. OWWW is that a stitch? Crap I'm gonna be sick. I want to stop. I'm literally going to die. No one has ever possibly hurt this much ever. Oh what an idiotic boob I was back--what time are we at?--11 seconds ago. 


OK, the urge to die is fading along with the average wattage. Pace yourself pace yourself pace yourself. That's what I tell everyone. Pace yourself. And i do tend to repeat things when encouraging people. What else do I say when i'm trying to be helpful. Surely I must be inspiring or people wouldn't be coming to class. "This is it," I say. "Here we go." I continue on: "come on!" Brilliant. 19 minutes to go and what have I come up with? The lyrics to the last Black Eyed Peas "song." Man Fergie is weird looking. I wonder what my face looks like right now. I should probably relax my face. That's something else I say to everyone. So I don't wanna look like this permanently.


Speaking of songs, the first one's over. Must be--yep, 4 minutes in now. Does Eminem's Lose Yourself still count as a great pump up song? It was great when I was in high school. These kids were like 8 when I was in high school. Ugh. Man I was strong in high school. Now i"m just achey all over all of the time. I'm especially uncomfortable right now. Why do we do this? The bikesnob nyc was right: "road racing is not done for fun. It's done out of obligation." I am obliged to keep cycling because i can't let these guys see me quit even though they really want to too. We're trapped in a loveless engagement we're obliged to complete, just waiting for it to end without throwing up all over ourselves. Sort of like going to a really sad casino. Or my relationship with my ex from high school. I wonder if she's on facebook.


Right, I've been quiet for a while now. I should say something. Come on Matt Foley, motivate! "Almost......half....way.....guys!" Great, no death stares. No stink eye. I must be helping. God I'm good at that. I should just jump off so I can cheer them on better. Yeah. I'll just wind down the legs, unclip, say I "just wasn't feeling it" or claim cramps. They can't prove I didn't have them. Cramps are a surprisingly enigmatic physiological phenomenon. NO! I told everyone I was doing this. They'll all ask. I can't tell everyone i had cramps. Nick's doing this tomorrow. I'll hate him even more if he does it and I wimp out. Must keep spinning.


Seven minutes to go. Number seems to be holding steady finally. Must be--yes! The Miley Cyrus song is up next. It was fun listening to that in the hotel after races. Why are my fondest memories all of events following races rather than the races themselves? I think I remember reading an article about that. Something about shared experience of duress bringing people closer together. Like brothers in arms. Maybe everyone here will bond over this and we can start a 6 piece all-male a cappella group. 


"Charlie, I hate you for this!"


Crap. Yeah, I hate me for this too, Stephan. I hate me for this too.


Hey, seventeen minutes in! I'm seventeen minutes in. That's basically twenty. I can probably get away with stopping and the number would be more or less the same as it would for a true 20-minute effort. Wait, what am I about to say? What is going on? Mouth, this a bad idea. Don't do what I think you're about to do!


"Let's go guys, everybody raise their wattage these last 3 minutes. Absolutely as hard as you can go til you explode. This is where you earn your bike racing stripes! Bury yourself deep for 3 minutes!" Crap. And now I'm listening to my own words. So trite and yet somehow everyone is listening. Even me. I can do this. I'm going to raise my average wattage. I can do anything for just three minutes. Then the badness and the hurt will go away.Let's see 450 again!


Whoaaa, MISTAKE, ok, let's try for 400...ok, maybe 375...you know what, I'm not even gonna look at the number. Just stare at the clock and drive it. 1 minute to go. Did the volume just get louder on the speakers? Say what you want about her stupid hair but holy crap Rihanna can produce one helluva dance mix. 30 seconds. I should stand. Crap my legs don't want me to stand. Short term power is greater when you stand even though it is a less efficient pedaling style. I must stand. Shift up. 53x14. 53x13. 12. 11. That's it. Push through it. Go go go! ow ow ow! 5...4...3...2...........1..........arrrrrRRRRRGHGHHG!!!!






Bbbbbbuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhh ;dfka;fkajoiaerjdvkoae49u4kng049u






"Guys, that was awesome. I'm so glad we did that together." 


**************************************************************************************************************


Immediately upon saying those words, I realized that they were true.


See you at RPM.

Looking ahead

Halloween has come and gone, so wash off that caked on stage makeup, the embro on your legs you needed in order to wear your sexy bumblebee costume in SNOWTOBERFEST, and that stale sick sweet stench of jaeger and regret, because it's time to start not only the Christmas season in stores, but your training season with Breakaway.


Yes, Nov. 1 is the unofficial beginning of 2012 for we competitive roadies. And we're all hoping to make it a special one, what with some of us racing with world championship bars, and also because the world is ending in 2012, making this our last chance. So you best start preparing for your racing season. To do so, you'll want to consider doing a handful of the following:

Equip yourself. It's going to be cold, dark, wet, and slippery riding over the next several months. You're going to need jackets, tights, leg warmers, are warmers, vests, base layers, gloves, hats, shoe covers, chemical toe warmers, embrocation to stay warm, lights to beat the dark, and wider tires, fenders, and bike cleaner to deal with the wet or salted roads. Come in the shop or order online.

Generate an Annual Training Plan, or ATP. This plan helps you target specific races. You can't be in peak form for every race, so figuring out when to go hard and when to taper is essential. This is especially useful if you know you will be compelled off the bike at certain points in the year by work or family-related conflicts. Need help doing this? Call the shop or email me to set up a consultation meeting.

Hire a coach. Perhaps you don't need a consultation so much as you just need someone to tell you when to work and how, when to rest, to hold you accountable for doing all these things, and to remind you that in your less weak moments, you really do want to become stronger, lighter and faster, and that bailing on your workout or the late night alcohol-fueled binge on hot pockets (seriously, that seemed like a good idea? Eating a hot pocket? Seriously?) will only lead to future regret and even harder work on down the line. That's what a coach is for. Coaches provide well-informed structure, discipline, and accountability. They will help you maximize your gains and your efficiency in realizing them. They are worth far more than the 4 seconds over 40k you gain by buying that $3,000 wheelset...sexy as those zipp 808s are.

Cross train. Let's face it, some days just are not suitable for riding bikes outside, and a 4 hour trainer ride in your basement can be a soul-sucking experience. But we are fit and active people--or we aspire to be, do we not? So we might as well tailor our cross training activities such to benefit our cycling goals. Consider hiring a Breakaway coach to explain how.

Reserve your spot for RPM. Between now and Dec. 15, prices will be $375 for a 12 week, 2h a week weekday session, or $325 for a weekend 2h session. Last year RPM was more popular than ever, with 24 classes a week being held from January through March. And if you've been following our newsletter (or if you want to, go to BreakawayBikes.com and enter your email into the spot under "SUBSCRIBE"), you'll know that our RPM and coached athletes have had incredible successes throughout the year, and will definitely be back next year.

Collectively, following these suggestions early will get you on the road to a more successful 2012.

Breaking News form the Masters Cycling World Championships

Breakaway Bikes & Fitness' owner and proprietor Joe Wentzell is the champion of the world. During the masters 40-44 scratch race on the 250 metre steeply banked oval in Manchester, UK, Joe single handedly lapped the field of finalists, all who advanced with high placings in preliminary heats held earlier in the day. As he crossed the line, he pointed to his loving wife Cynthia and  his kids Paxton and Skylar.

This normally loquacious staff blogger is at a loss for words. We are deeply humbled and impressed. Congratulations Joe. Now enjoy the final day of racing, then your much-deserved vacation from all things bicycle.

The offseason means *off* the bike

For many cyclists across the country, the season is coming to a close. It’s time to put the bike away, put the spandex in the dark recesses of the closet, and give your legs the break they deserve.

This is harder for some than others. Many of the athletes I train have been looking forward to this time of year since about the fourth of July—and with good reason. Most serious athletes spend hours and hours of training, racing, and traveling to races. They stress over an upcoming event, wondering how it might play out and how they’ll do; they solicit advice from the entire internet community about which equipment to use, spend half their paycheck at the bike store when that equipment fails them, and dwell over chances missed when things don’t go their way. When success does pay a visit, it’s celebrated only very briefly—“why yes, after climbing 7000 feet over three cols on my way to victory, I will take extra reduced fat dressing on my spinach and arugla salad”—before it’s back to the regimented diet and training schedule.

 [A typical climber's rest-day meal]

But others don't. They think that if they take time off while the competition keeps training, they will lose their edge. These are the folks to whom I am directing this entreaty to relax. It’s important, both physically and mentally. Physically, you need time to heal. Exercising involves the breakdown of muscle tissue. The state you put your metabolism in is called catabolic, from the Greek words kata meaning down, and ballein, meaning to throw (related words include 'catastrophe' and 'cataclysmic'). You are throwing down your body over and over. Fortunately, your body is like a Phoenix, rising stronger through an “anabolic” (different kind of "throwing up" than the normal colloquial understanding, though both occur after workouts) process, where new and more muscle cells grow in place of the broken down ones. The proper rotation of exercise and rest enables you to reach peak physical condition. One balances catabolism with anabolism to get stronger. But around this time of year, after training and competing for 8-10 months, anabolism wins out. Your body is tired, broken, in need of healing, rest, recovery. Likely, it’s begging for it. Give it the opportunity to do so. Feed it that bit of extra fuel. Take the elevator instead of the stairs. Embrace Septa (but bring and sanitizer). Yes, you will lose a bit of fitness—but sometimes you have to embrace your Phoenix-like nature. Sometimes, you have to get slower first in order to go faster later.

Equally important to the physical break is the mental one hanging up the velo gives you. There are no races to stress over. For the next several months, there are no equipment choices you could make that ultimately cost you 3 grams of rolling resistance and thus your PR on the West River Time Trial. There is no need to figure out how 8 people and 16 bikes are going to get to Vermont for the weekend in 2 Prii (google tells me that, for some reason more than one Prius is not called ‘Priora’; Classics departments across the country weep for the neuter nominative case). Mentally, it’s best to stray as far from your bike as possible, until you start to miss it. And even then, wait. You really gotta wait until you miss that bike and can't stand being apart from it anymore.

 [We're talking Lloyd Dobbler-esque missing of your bike]

Because I can promise you this: your spouse, partner, job, friends—they miss you missing it. They want the you who isn’t on a bike but is intend tending to them with redoubled efforts. So catch up on work. Have a family camping weekend during which you don’t sneak off for a couple of hours to get some threshold climbs in. Go out to dinner and order an appetizer and 2 desserts! (leftovers can be sent to 1923 Chestnut St). Trust me, this break will pay dividends in the end, buying you bonus points to store up until the next time you have to beg your boss to let you take off a week to fly to Spain for a week of altitude training with the rest of the Breakaway Bikes staff.

So please, everyone, enjoy this time off. Because 2012 prep phase cross training starts before you know it.

Chaingate II

Chaingate II: or, The Entirely True Nonfiction Totally Not Fabricated or Embellished in Any Way Tale of How I Lost to Lance Armstrong under Dubious Circumstances

In July of 2010, Andy Schleck was wearing the yellow jersey as the leader of the Tour de France when his only rival remaining in contention saw him drop his chain. The customary action in this circumstance is to wait for one’s rival—especially when one’s rival is leading la Tour—but in an incident known as Chaingate, the Spaniard attacked as Andy dismounted to put his chain back on. Though Schleck made furious chase, Contador, with the aid of two other riders, stole 39 seconds back from Andy with just a time trial stage remaining to impact the general classification. When the time trial finished, Contador had overtaken Schleck as the leader—by 39 seconds.

Last Sunday, I was victimized by a scandal of even greater magnitude and gravity, wherein I lost precious time on account of a dropped chain and due to the ungallant actions of none other than Lance Armstrong.

I am not making any of this up.

I’ll wind back to explain. Juan Pelota, as his Spanish nurses call him, was in town for the annual Livestrong Challenge. I was riding the route with three fellow Philadelphia area racers, Kyle, Warren, and Breakaway’s very own national champion Joe. Our plan was to attack from the gun and stay out front of the more recreational riders who might impede our attempts to power away from the great Mellow Johnny. We got an early gap and began a rotating paceline, making good headway. Back in the peloton, Lance turned to his partner John College:

“College, isn’t that the guy that crash & cracked his pelvis in an individual time trial at the Tour de Toona while on pace to get 23^rd?”

“Yeah. I heard he got 6^th at Lower Providence last year too.”

“zOMG! That’s the move!”

So Lance, College, and a few other area strongmen furiously chased us through the Montgomery County countryside, eventually making contact as I set tempo on a little roller through Green Lane Park. Lance, after sitting on the chase the whole time, surely, rides past me. I could hear him breathing heavily, and it seemed an eternity before he was able to slip from my hip to square his bars with mine. “Good morning,” he said, trying to sound nonplussed but betraying a deep fatigue already setting in after just 10 miles. “OK,” I thought, “It’s on.”

[Kyle's shot of Joe eying Lance as I drag him around on the front]

Undeterred by my initial efforts to distance the 7-time tour winner, and confident in my endurance, having raced several back-to-back (sometimes greater than) ninety minute races on weekends in assorted mid-Atlantic and New England college towns, I set about working with the 3-week grand tour stage race specialist, rotating with him and the others for the next hour and blistering pace. After a short while, each of his loyal domestiques cracked, and it was down to six of us—Lance, me, Warren, Joe, Kyle, and College.

Trying to shake our confidence, Lance made a crack about my hairy legs (most racers, including myself, shave their legs). I have not shaved mine on account of not racing since my crash two months ago, and pointed this fact out to Lance, along with my inability to really train much for this contest of champions. Immediately after his comment, I attacked on a short, super steep climb. I attacked the 7-time Tour champ, philanthropist, and cancer survivor. And I attacked him hard.

Immediately I had a sizable gap, as Lance was unable to respond to my searing acceleration. The motorcyclist cops blocking traffic for us and Lance’s persona support vehicle (including a really cute blonde inside) were not sure what to do. They had never seen Lance struggle so mightily. Col d’Aubisque, Ventoux, the Galibier, Col du Tourmalet, l’Alpe—Ulrich, Mayo, Pantani, Basso, Contador? Child’s play. Entr’actes. Pretenders. Afterthoughts. Also-rans. This was the big showdown of both our 28-year combined racing careers (89.3% of which are his years). Me and the patron, the Philly Livestrong Challenge—with its 8,000 feet of climbing—this was no place for inferior climbers. My attack managed to shell not only Lance but my friends & allies as well. On the subsequent descent, unfortunately, Lance caught my mates off guard slipping back then tucking in behind his Nissan support car and motorpaced back to my wheel,

 [Raise your hand if you want to slow down and take a power bidon from your personal support vehicle]

“Please” he spat out between breathless gasps “I’ve got a support car full of food & water. It has to stay with me. Just work with me. I’ll do my best to pull and you can have all the amenities. And I’ll reward you handsomely. Do you like Michelob Ultra?”

Z’ounds! He must have done his homework. He knew I had but 2 bottles a fondness for Honey Stinger Waffles (and his blonde supporter). But he should know that I would never, ever drink Michelob Ultra. Seriously.

And so Lance & I worked together for the next couple of hours. I must admit to get through the next 60 miles or so I was thankful for the company. Sure I had to wait for him at the top of practically every hill and I’ve had better town line sprint contests against our women’s junior team, but at least it would make for some cool photos. Plus I knew one of the major climbs crested in a town called “Landis Store,” and naturally I wanted to hear what his reaction would be when we passed through. (FWIW, I don’t recall exactly what it was but I remember it was kind of funny.)

As the miles ticked by, Lance and I chatted a bit, about nothing particularly memorable. I asked him about his kids, how he finds time to train given his busy schedule, and whether he took performance enhancing drugs during his reign as king of the Grand Boucle. Answers: His several kids are doing well; their first day of school was the next day, so he was flying to Austin that night to get back to them, then on to Aspen, his summer residence, for the US Pro Cycling Challenge. His training is inconsistent, though he’d prepped hard for the past several months, like when he was doing repeats on the Madone to gauge his fitness pre-Tour. (This ride obviously meant something to him.) And he said that he did not take performance enhancing drugs.

(OK, seriously, if you believed that, just stop reading. Not his answer. That I would ask him that. I’m cheeky but I am not, in point of fact, a moron. But if you believed me, well...this entire blog post is lost on you. May I suggest alternative reading material, like Highlights?)

Now, the Landis Store climb was not far from where the 70-mile route rejoined with the 100-mile route. It also was the ceiling of the Challenge, the highest point, the peak of the longest, toughest climb. We crested side by side and then went the wrong way. Surprise! The Landis people led us astray.

A dozen or so miles later, Joe, Warren, & Kyle came into view. They had opted to take the 70 mile route, refuel, then, as loyal teammates do, they waited up the road for me with food and bottles. That was good, because realizing the difficulty I was putting Lance in, the Nissan had stopped offering me Honey Stinger Waffles. They did offer me a Snickers, however. And I swear I saw Lance stifle a deceiver’s smile. HE KNEW ALL ALONG THAT I AM ALLERGIC TO PEANUTS! He was trying to assassinate me. Well it didn’t work, Lance. You hear me? It didn’t work! These colors don't run.

At any rate, once again we were up to 6, and I went to the back to recover a bit, as I had been pulling for probably 95% of the last 3 hours, and figured I ought to eat up at the back as we descended. Surely Lance didn’t need me to pull him down a hill. That’s what Joe was for! (Incidentally, Lance referred to Joe as “that old guy” hammering the downhills. Newsflash, Lancelot, Joe is 1 year your senior.) 

At the base of a climb, not 10 minutes after rejoining Joe and company, disaster struck. I was on Kyle’s wheel, shifting into the big ring, now fully recovered and ready to show Lance how we teammates could throw down an assault on an uphill when we worked together. As my chain moved outwards to the big ring, Lance swerved around a pothole, leading me directly over it. The jolt caused my chain to shoot over my big ring and get wrapped round my crank. Try as I might, I couldn’t shift it back. Kyle started to drop back to give me assistance, knowing we’d easily catch Lance if we needed to, but I waived him on. The chain was completely wrapped around my crank, a tangled mess. The Nissan sped past me, determined, as the blonde in the passenger seat gazed back longingly (sorry, I'm taken). Lance looked back and sprinted as mightily as he could. “This is it,” Joe swore he heard Lance mutter to himself.

My powertap file shows that I was coasting/producing no power for 90 seconds. That was enough room for Lance, since I had given Kyle the go-ahead to keep working with him. I raced frantically to catch back on, and at one point had them in site, about 45 seconds up the road. But soon I cracked hard, and without the motobricade, soon was forced to stop at a light, now lacking my Lance-moto-blockade.

Disappointed that this chaingate cost me an opportunity to drop Lance once and for all, I soldiered on alone, eventually catching Joe in the last couple miles, and we lazily rode into the parking lot to meet Warren & Kyle, who managed to stay with Lance the remainder of the ride. Kyle even got his photo with him crossing the finish line, which will surely be seen by hundreds if not thousands of people.

 [Sitting up to gift him his brief moment of glory]

So in the end, I’m not too disappointed by the outcome chaingate 2, though I expected a little more chivalry from the man I’d pulled around Pennsylvania for hours on end. Alas, there’s always next year, and he knows it. He’s already training for it! 

[ Real Tweet]

Right, so obviously most of that was written in good fun, and I hope for our sake Lance can take a joke. The ride was a blast, and my goodness is that “old man” still fast as heck. For those who speak power, here’s one number that stands out: 250w (at 130 lbs for a power:weight of ~4.2 w/kg) for about 3.2 hours, covering 70 miles (21.7mph). That’s the time from when Lance joined up with us to when I dropped my chain. That includes 5,600 feet of clmbing, at 21.5 mph. The national championships I raced in May had only slightly higher numbers—but remember the numbers listed here are part of a 7 hour ride! And in reality, Lance was doing much more pulling than I was, though the part about me attacking on a hill and dropping him momentarily immediately after he teased me about my hairy legs (shaving them today, btw, as my first race since my injury begins Friday) is true, though he certainly didn’t need a motorcar to catch back on. Speaking of the motorcar, they were very helpful and complimentary, and my friend Kyle wishes the blonde lady inside to know that he is in fact single. (I’m not, so please stop calling me.) The event was incredibly well run and part of an amazing cause, and I encourage everyone to try it out for themselves if they haven’t already done so. As it turns out, Lance does ride them, and if you’re lucky, as I was, you too could ride with the most famous cyclist perhaps of all time.

 [Real Tweet]

Two final brief, funny things before I go, both of which occurred when it was just me and Lance. All day long people were going nutso when we passed by them, everyone shouting “Go Lance! Yay Lance!” when we went by, which, I hear all the time, but this time there was genuine admiration and sincerity, rather than the derision and occasional tossed beer can that I’ve grown accustomed to. At one point, some recreational riders not part of the event stopped at an intersection at the top of a hill to let our moto-cops and us pass by. We were going uphill, me on front in fact, when she asked whether we were part of a race. “Nah, that’s just Lance,” I said, sounding as not out of breath as I could pretend to be while leading him up a hill. The rec riders went absolutely bonkers. That was neat. And a short while later, another rec rider, this time on his own, was coming the opposite direction of us, and we were again going slightly uphill, this time Lance on front. We met just before we crested and just after he crested his little climb, so neither of us had much speed. He started to give the “country wave,” as we call it in the Midwest, where I’m from. I greeted him vocally but quietly, and he started to give a perfunctory hello back, when, just as we pass him, we hear him slam to a stop, yelling “Holy S***!” A second later, we hear a what sounded like a tumble. I think the guy fell down in awe. “I get that a lot around here, Lance. I’m kind of a big deal. Sorry to steal your thunder.” “Yeah, I bet,” he said. He didn’t believe me. Well, we’ll see how things play out in 2012.

 [Kyle & Lance a the Finish]

Thanks for indulging!

Charlie

What to Do If You Are in an Accident - By Charlie

Sarah recently touched on how to avoid car vs. bike altercations. Unfortunately, as well all know, accidents happen—often times expensive ones. It is easy to lose one’s head in such circumstances of powerful anger or frustration. Along with a number of close calls, I have personally been hit by cars twice, both times while riding in a bike lane. My initial reaction to being struck was anger, of course. But then it was followed by relief, as I realized I was mostly ok. But in dealing with the motorist—who, thankfully stopped, which they are legally required to do in the event of any collision—I made a few mistakes that ultimately caused me a great deal of grief. In order to help the reader avoid such similar problems, I want to share a few must-dos here.

First and foremost, call the police. Seriously, just call the police. Even if you are in a hurry to get somewhere: they will understand if you were *hit by a car*. Even if you think you’re fine—injuries only manifest themselves once the adrenaline wears off, and the extent of your physical damage is very hard to diagnose moments after impact. Even if your bike seems fine—chances are it’s not. Even if the driver offers to give you insurance information, phone number, business card, address, mother’s maiden name, or cash on the spot—trust me: No matter how gracious and apologetic the driver is, and even if right then and there they are admitting fault, remember this: everybody lies to protect his or her own interests. No one willingly gives up money and sees their insurance rates go up if he or she can help it. Furthermore, if you want to deal with an insurance company, you are dealing with a mechanism built up specifically to deny you what you deserve: the default is to deny claims, and bet on the fact that you won’t be persistent. At best they will try to push you into an early settlement. Read the Rainmaker: it’s really not that unbelievable.

By calling the police, there will be an official record of what happened. Then refer both your and the driver’s insurance companies to the police report. The police will take statements from both parties, so if any admission of guilt is made, there’s no going back on it without an uphill battle. Collect as many witness statements as you can.

When making your own statement, stick to the facts and do not editorialize. Saying, “I think I am/my bike is ok” is tantamount to forfeiting any future claim. After any accident, you and your bike both need the attention of someone professionally capable of making that claim. In all likelihood, once the adrenaline or shock wears off, you’re going to be rather sore. Bike accident pain is like a sunburn: it only manifests itself well after the damage is done. Same with the bike: it may seem fine on the surface, but in fact there may be damage—something irreparably cracked or loosened that will cause a serious accident, and one that you will therefore be liable for. I strongly encourage everyone who is involved in an accident, therefore, to get checked out by a doctor and the bike to be looked at by a mechanic before any assessment is made.

Another thing everyone should do is take pictures. Everyone has a cameraphone these days. And you should never be riding without your phone. Capture your injuries. Capture the license plate of the car. Capture the state of your bike and the mise en scene of the accident. Redundancy is good. Redundancy is good.

Follow up within 24 hours. The less time sorting the situation out takes, the more likely you are to receive compensation. Don’t give up when seeking recompense. It is a battle of attrition sometimes, but it is a winnable battle with enough determination. Don’t despair. Don’t give up hope. Don’t take it lying down.

Accidents are painful. But the aftermath can be made much less so by taking the proper steps to ensure that you don’t get screwed over. Best of luck out there.

Can't We All Just Get Along - By Sarah Sanders

One of the top reasons that people avoid pedaling to work, to school, or to get groceries is because of the two-ton machines swarming our cities – otherwise known as motor vehicles.
After all, learning to ride without training wheels up and down the sidewalk doesn’t really prepare you for riding between cars and avoiding open doors. Nobody thinks to yell at a girl on her tricycle, telling her to learn how to drive. You also don’t really have to worry about other kamikaze cyclists who zoom through intersections.

When I first moved to Philadelphia, I avoided Broad Street altogether. In my occasional commute between my Temple dormitory and center city, I used 13th and 12th Streets to get around, mostly because of that chaos circling city hall. I was still getting used to riding with cars on my 1980’s Schwinn Sprint; and I was hesitant to use hand signals as it involved taking one hand off the handlebars, which seemed like a death wish at the time. So I stuck to the roads that had less cars, and ample shoulders and bike lanes. Needless to say, I didn’t see much of Philadelphia my freshman year.

Then I moved off campus and had to ride every day – and not just to North Philly. Broad Street became the easiest way to get anywhere. South, Chestnut, and Walnut Streets, too. And they were always busy – bumper-to-bumper traffic. I had to deal with not only out-of-towners and moving trucks, but buses and taxis, too.

Gradually, riding in traffic became less of a big deal. Eventually, I didn’t even really pay mind to the cars. Not to say I didn’t know they were there, but they didn’t seem so much like monsters anymore.

In fact, they seemed more like annoying flies, buzzing around me. But you can’t really swat cars and trucks. We tolerate them – mostly because they’re bigger than us, but also because most of us drive regularly. For the most part, there is a silently understood relationship between motorists and cyclists.

Except for the times where we don’t understand each other. So I’d like to offer a list of guidelines for both parties.


For Motorists:

1. Please be patient. After all, you are driving a vehicle that is completely enclosed, separated from the elements, and averaging speeds that bikes can only reach when descending a mountainside. We might be taking up a lane for ourselves – which we can do legally – but we are pedaling as fast as we can. Plus you could take a left whenever you want.

2. Use your side view mirrors more often, even when you’re parked and ready to get out of the car. That way, you’ll see me when I’m riding down Spring Garden Street, in the bike lane no less. You also might notice me the next time you think you always have the right-of-way when taking a right turn.

3. Take responsibility for your actions. If a collision does occur, just stay calm and be as helpful as possible. The consequences of staying and dealing with the incident are not nearly as dire as those for someone who flees.

For Cyclists:

1. Please be patient. While being on a bike does have its advantages, don’t get into the habit of running red lights or squeezing into spots where you can’t fit. Cycling can still be fun and convenient without endangering yourself and others. Also remember that you are now part of the traffic. Cars and buses are not in your way; they’re trying to get somewhere just like you.

2. Use hand signals when you can, especially when making turns or changing lanes. This will help motorists better understand what you plan to do, and they won’t get so bent out of shape when you move into the left lane because they now know you’re making a left turn.

3. Avoid touching, smacking, or spitting on cars. I know that sometimes even I think this behavior is warranted for reckless taxi drivers and obnoxious truckers; but it simply never ends well. Either the driver gets out and comes after you, or nothing happens at all and you don’t feel any better about yourself.


While I can’t imagine peace on the road will be achieved any time soon, at the very least, I hope we can empathize with each other. Motorists will understand that increased cycling is a good thing; and cyclists will realize that drivers are not out to terrorize them.

National Bike To Work Day Tips - By Joe Wentzell

1. Don't Wait! Take a shorter ride on your bike first. Inflate your tires and make sure they are holding air. Make sure the gears and brakes work like they should. Have a question? Stop by Breakaway and let us take a look at it with you. A little advance preparation will make Bike To Work Day, May 20th, go as smoothly as possible for you.
2. Plan your route. The streets and roadways you drive or bus to work on may not be the ideal route on a bicycle. Riding a bike to work may allow you to use a bike trail, cut through the park or ride right up to the busy bakery on your way in. Take advantage of these opportunities! If you want suggestions how to get from your home to your work, stop and ask the pros. Our staff rides ALL OVER and we would be happy to help tailor a route for you.
3. Carrying capacity.  Plan for carrying the things you need for work.  There are lots of options out there, carrying on your body, or carrying on your bike, or a bit of both.  We have a great selection of commuter bags and racks.  Stop in and ask our staff what will work best for you and your bike.
4. Locking your bike.  Don't plan on locking your bike up with a cable lock.  we are running a special at the store to trade in your cable lock for a $5.00 credit off of a Kryptonite u-lock.  Please take advantage of it.
5. Bring a Friend. If riding to work is a new thing for you, talk a friend or co-worker into joining you. Having a second "team member" helps each of you stay motivated and gives you someone to share the fun with. If you are already a pro at riding to work, volunteer to escort a first-timer as they start commuting. They will appreciate your knowledge and feel more comfortable having you as their safety net.

Why Hire a Coach - By Charlie Zamastil

Why would I get a coach? I hear that question a lot, and it seems perfectly reasonable. After all, plenty of people are able to train and get fast without the aid of someone else. It doesn’t take a PhD is sports science (or PhD in philosophy who probably should have gotten a PhD in sports science) to know that by riding your bike more frequently than you currently do will make you both leaner and faster. And, generally speaking, the harder you ride, the faster these training adaptations occur and with greater vigor. Plus, coaching can be expensive. $89/month for the performance package might seem like a lot. You’re not a pro athlete. Cycling or triathlons are your hobby.

I can sympathize, and to a point, I agree. A coach is not for everyone. Just as when we all managed to drive from point A to point B before GPS on our 4G phones, your pedals will continue to turn over even if you don’t hire a coach. But, as with your navigating, they will do so slower, with more effort, and with lesser efficiency. Here are a few reasons why to get coaches and a few rejoinders to some possible objections. (Sounds like an academic paper, I know; see, now I use that philosophy degree: blogging from home, alone, in the dark ... )

First, there is the cost. That’s what I hear the most, that the cost is prohibitive. I don’t want to judge anyone here, and certainly I have my moments of highly confused priorities with regards to my spending money (why I balk at spending the extra $2 for a pound the fair trade, shade-grown, organic coffee at the grocery store once a month, but then pay $2 for a single cup at Dunkin’ is a psychological mystery). But let’s put the cost in perspective. A coaching package is the same price as a $3 latte. It’s what we pay for cable TV. It’s the difference between taking the subway to work versus commuting by subway. It’s way less than driving.


OK—so there are numerous things to compare it to, of greater and lesser importance. Obviously getting to work somehow takes precedence over monthly workouts. Maybe the routine trip to the corner store to get your coffee each day is comforting in its routine. Maybe you really can’t wait until tomorrow to watch your favorite cable shows online. It’s all about prioritizing. But before dismissing coaching out of hand due to the cost, think about how you feel when you achieve your goals. After all, that’s the coach’s primary objective, whether your goals are to win races and turn pro, or simply finish a long ride or a sprint triathlon. Would you trade a latte a day or your cable subscription for that feeling of improvement and accomplishment? I suppose that’s up to you to decide.

Secondly, there’s the question of how much a coach can really offer. This is the response usually heard from people who are already generally very fit. They’ve come so far already completely on their own. How much further can a coach really take them?


I would say the sky’s the limit, if by sky I meant your genetic makeup. That really is the limiting factor. “Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them,” the bard wrote. I would say those number quite few. Nevertheless, the only way to know if one has reached their maximum potential is to do whatever it is their doing with maximum effort and efficiency. Even a generally fit person can probably go much, much faster with the proper training plan. I liken cycling to tennis. I was my high school team’s #1 player for 3 years, and qualified for the state tournament. There, I was competitive, but was truly outclassed by the 3rd round. The guy that crushed me was crushed in his next round. That guy made it to the quarters before getting shellacked by the eventual 5th-place guy. The guy that won played on the challenger circuit, where you have to win whole tournaments against guys at similar levels to get into a lottery where you may or may not get picked for a low seating at a tournament that you might see on T.V. Unlike in March Madness, the bottom seeds at Wimbledon don’t advance to the finals to play the best in the world.


My point is that no matter how good we think we are—no matter how fit we get—there are so many levels of fitness above us. Wouldn’t it be nice to see whether, with the proper training (given all limiting factors, viz., job, work, family, time to train, and of course, genetics) we see just what level we get to? I bet the guy who lost to the guy who lost to the guy would love to someday be the guy who beats the guy who lost to the guy who lost to the guy. That guy might be you, but it’ll take a coach to find out.

Now, as for specific benefits of having a coach, I can think of a few. First off, the consultation is invaluable. Discussing a training plan with someone whose job it is to create a training plans leads to a highly structured, focused, and intelligent season outline. And as the exigencies of life crop up, you need a coach who is amenable to accommodating those changes. Breakaway coaches certainly are flexible. And once you start doing the specific workouts designed just for you, you’ll come up with questions you’d never have come up with on your own. And the answers will be just a conversation away. Coaches are also there to tell you when to take a rest. The principles of training have always come down to inducing stress, then recovering. A surprisingly large number of people focus way too much on the stress and not the recovery. (We call that “triathlete syndrome.”) It’s a tough thing to figure out, and most likely something for which one needs a coach’s trained help.

Helping you to set appropriate goals is another benefit of coaching that comes to mind. True story: the same well-meaning kid has come into the shop once a summer wanting a free bike because he is, he says, going to turn pro. He has never raced, but, he says, he does a local 40-mile ride with some older guys and everyone on it says he’s really fast and should go pro. Ridiculous as this sounds, it’s really an extreme case of a characteristic of most of us: we don’t know what level we’ve reached, nor do we know what level we can reach, without someone giving us a clue.

Furthermore, having a coach provides some accountability. How often have you planned to go on a ride, only to see that it was a bit too cold, or there was a chance of rain, or the game went into extra innings and you’re too tired, or they had 2-for-1 you-call-its at the pub and you’re too “dehydrated” the next day? It’s easy to cheat yourself out of a workout. Just yesterday I started an interval session, got interrupted by a policeman telling me to get off the road, and bagged it, civil rights feeling violated. Justified in quitting? I felt like it at the time. But when I told a fellow coach the story, he asked me why I didn’t just find a new road and continue. I had no answer. No one is there to call you on it but yourself. It’s harder to cheat your coach, someone who will monitor to see whether you did your workout, and call you on it if you’re not doing what you’re supposed to.

I could go on, but I’ve probably maxed out your attention span. If you care to hear more about the benefits of coaching and features of the various coaching packages that we offer, I invite you to continue the conversation in the comments section or email me directly at Charlie@Breakawaybikes.com.