Queenstown NZ

This place is insane.

At present I find myself sitting around conserving energy and consuming carbohydrates in preparation for 35 kilometres of self flagellation in the Oceania time trial championship this afternoon. It should prove to be a tough little affair, although there are only 10 starters for elite men, with ever lasting honour and lactic acid laced agony on the line, it will, like always, good, hard and hopefully fast (for me anyway)

The last two days have seen Campbell Flakemore and myself riding the TT course and spending most of the time in awe of the lakes and hills surrounding Queenstown. This place is so cool. 

My quick fire travel review is as follows:

What makes Queenstown cool

-It’s nothing by huge mountains and massive lakes, the whole place is gobsmackingly beautiful

-They filmed Lord of the Rings around here (somewhere on this island anyway)

-The place is a haven for public liability insurance agents: Downhill MTBing, snowsports, white water rafting, speed boating, bungee jumping, canyon jumping, para-sailing, the fun never ends, neither would the premiums

-The place is teeming with tourists, lots of young Americans and Brits and loads of middle aged Japanese/Chinese tourists. It’s a non stop party. I can’t go down the street without chuckling at hearing some dutch or german tourist yelling to their mate “We made a real good trip on the fast boat you think maybe!?” or catching a seppo twang on the end of “It’s was so pumpin’ duuuuuude”

What makes Queenstown a bit shit

-Thanks to the tourist influx, everything is expensive as all hell. $35 kiwi bucks (~$30Aus) for a pizza? Come oonnnn!! Subway for dinner it is….

-In a bizaro-Australian paradox, the drivers are very courteous to bike riders, but it seems pedestrians in the town centre are nothing but target practice. This place needs some pedestrian crossings. Getting across the road is like in South East Asia whereby the only way to break the traffic flow is just to step off the curb and start your way across the road. Except in Asia drivers manage to summon the energy to activate their shoulders and wrists in an effort to turn the steering wheel 5 whole degrees in order to swerve to the left or the right of those crossing the road. In Queenstown it seems there is some sort of natural reaction to swerve and accelerate directly towards whoever is crossing the road. Any utilisation of said designated steering device is just wholly unnecessary. Sure makes for an eventful trip to the shops I’ll tell you what.

Nevertheless, this place really is all about the adventure. Only two days ago, Mr Flakemore and myself having duly sated ourselves with a lap and a bit of the TT course decided to poke our noses up this little road that turned off up through the trees. Surely it would be nothing more than a little jaunt up the side of the hill for 5 minutes? I mean, who wants to climb an Alpine berg on their TT bike? Not me!

Well. 9k at 9% later we topped out at ~1300-1400m at coronet peak ski resort.

“Oh man that road looks steep up ahead”

“Yeh, but it looks like it flattens out round the corner”

“Yeh, we’ll just go another few hundred metres and turn around”

We had that revolving conversation for 45 minutes.

Geez that was hard work. But man it was worth it. If only Flakey wasn’t off doing his TT now I would snatch the photos off his dog and i-Bone to show you all. They’ll be up in the next post.

Well, my mind is racked for now. Time to return to my state of deep relaxation. ..

Till next time.

Business that remains unfinished

Beep Beep Beep. Damn you  alarm clock

Sunday morning wake up. It's hot. It's windy. I want more sleep.

Sunday morning, out at Hurstbridge, Time Trial Showdown No.2. It's still hot. It's still windy. I want more coffee.

Sunday morning, out on the course. It's really hot. It's even windier. I want more power.

Sunday morning, just crossed the finish line. I'm baking in my skin suit. Sweat is stinging my eyes. That guy  has again taken the prize.

Sunday lunch time, Big Ms, Cokes, shit talking and relief that the ride is over.

Sunday afternoon. Tired legs, stiff necks and bike seat examined prostates. The day is done, the race is won and Lama and myself retreat from the cool shade of the Smiths Gully General Store to descend back to our cars and back home to recover for the next installment. Donna Buang. This will be a classic, balls to wall sufferfest.

Although I cannot make the next two Coburg TT's, that doesn't stop anyone else from going out. Coburg are doing a sensational job of creating a friendly and inviting atmosphere that is all about fun. Aside from Shane and my good self there is no hostile or overly competitive atmosphere here. Just great people, great fun and great suffering. Bring it on.

Unfinished business.

Back on the TT Rig.

Back in 2008 I first spoke with one Cameron McKenzie about having a good crack at the U23 TT champs. The first thing he did was grab my TT bike and perform the maneuver now commonly known as 'slamming' that stem and told me get riding. Well, I got riding, and I sure refined all the requisite skills to be a successful solo time trialler:

-Sore neck
-Sore nuts
-Tendency to get into aero tuck, even when riding to uni or the gym
-Increasing tendency to 'half wheel' the shit out of anyone riding next to me
-Marked decrease in social skills.

Alas it was with some misfortune that  I missed the U23 nationals that year, and since then, I have not truly rekindle my love for the introverted suffering of a time trial.

Stop Press:

The Fire is Back.

How So? Was it the nationals time trial? Hmmm, nah not so much.

Has it been some of those Beach Rd runs with Mitch, Tannerino, Smax and the TKM boys? Nope, not that.

It's been, in fact, the re-kindling of my ever running TT/Hill Climb duel with the one and only Master of Masters, That Guy Who Everyone Hates But Secretly Wishes They Were As Fast As (me included)

Allow me to elaborate...

...Wildwood is a peculiar place perched just over the back behind Tullamarine airport in Melbourne. Dead roads, baron landscape, there's not much going for it to be fair. At said 'odd' location and at a similarly unusual time (early on a sunday morning); two of Melbourne's truly different subcultures are thrust together in a battle for legitimacy and that last god dam parking space.

 Yes it's the Time Trialists and the Plane Spotters.  And don't you, for one second, doubt the number of these fuselage focused kinfolk; such are their numbers that there is even a battle between Mr Whippy Vans to see who can steal a glorified parking space and whisk off cone after cone of half melted sub par ice cream.

So imagine the scene;
-2x Mr Whippy Vans
-People sitting round with binoculars, looking at large planes flying in
-Large planes flying in (ie: LOUD NOISES)
-Cyclists tip toeiing around carrything their bikes trying to avoid getting glass in the tyres.
-Various conga lines of cyclists all bent over pinning numbers onto each other backs in a 'I'll scratch your back, if you scratch mine' kind of fashion.

Yes, very different.

And hopefully, that obfuscates fact that that guy, beat me by two seconds! Not again! But that wasn't his only victory of late

So fast forward to yesterday evening. I am discussing my deepest thoughts and concerns on the topic of TTing and all things aero with the Guru ; and I spotted a twinkle in his eye. I had a pang of nervousness run over me. I had seen this look before. The look of a man with a dangerous plan. And with the same conviction for a low coefficient of drag and the same lack of empathy for my ensuing agony, he 'Slammed the absolute shit' out of that stem. And now my saddle to bar drop is oh so low.

Time to do some testing, and please, wish me luck!

And to finish, all like minded TTers should check out that guy's very useful TT calender

From Bay Crits to Bunninyong, and All the Fun in Between

An account through the brain of a sleep and caffeine deprived cyclist is what follows

The Bay Crits...
...were hot. stinking hot! Ripping out a few laps in the individual support race was on the cards and enjoying watching the elite guys get their internal temperatures up to a light simmer in the searing heat capped it all off. Nothing of merit for me. But my goals achieved, legs warmed up, lungs expanded, heart sufficiently stressed.

The National Crit Title...
...AJ Won!! Holy !!#!#$$# You little Rippa!!
Last year in our team it was all "Steele this and Haas that". With the team goal achieved (ie rider development, ie riders moving onward and upward) there was a lot of talk about what Genesys would bring to the table in the sprinting department in 2012. Well, we all knew the quiet lead out maestro known within our team as 'AJ' had what it took to fill the void (not to forget Alex Carver, a new team recruit who will want to take some sprint wins of his own this year).  Now the cheeky bugger has gone and won an elite bay crit and a national crit title.

"They're racing as if they're HTC Columbia delivering Mark Cavendish to the line"

As Matt Keenan alluded to whilst commentating the crit; we rode well as a team. Maybe HTC is a bit of a stretch, but hey, nothing wrong with talking it up for the crowd!  I got a few good turns on the front chasing a few lone riders and spent some time jumping across to breaks early on. All good. All painful. All fun

'The' Road Race...
...Start. Go Fast. Stop. The End.

Yes the race was fast, so fast it had me gasping for every gram of oxygen. Nick Benz looks similarly unhappy with life...

...Tailwind up the climb. Cross wind across the top. It was ooonnn. I survived for ~7-8 laps with the peleton then got blown away and called it a day to save some beans for the TT

The TT
Sweet merciful crap, that was windy. The race was analogous to performing a 50 minute plank whilst getting buffeted by winds that threw you around like a an ex cricketing star's Mercedes. Far out if I had of been racing with a rego plate I would have been done for drink riding for sure, I was going from left to right, back to left, back to right, back to... Unfortunately in winds like those, with disc wheels and 808 front wheels (Thanks Zipp!) holding a straight line was not possible. It was more like riding in sand, you just had to be firm but also relaxed and just let the wind take you where it was gonna take. I survived, phew.


So the good news is I am back into normal racing and training mode and hopefully I shall find myself better equipped to regale you with some funny stories in between, hopefully...

Getting less Fat. Are you a Loh or a Brad?

  The stages of coming back into form and fitness for my good self generally are

1) Get moving on the bike, yes you're fat but don't worry about it

2) Get moving more, wow you're fat but damn this exercise makes you sooo hungry, surely I can eat lots and the weight will drop?

3) Maintain moving more, oh no, still fat! Dammit, now I have to eat less

 And so it goes. The ever revolving circle of weight gain, weight loss...

How different people manage their diets and their weight seem to be entirely personal. Some swear off fatty food forever, others prefer to have small amounts to keep their desires at bay whilst maintain a 24/7 strict control of their diet and others (like myself) adopt an all or nothing approach.

Last year in the Marco Polo team house we wear witness to an ideological stand off.

In the Blue Corner stood Marco Polo stalwart, my Malay/Chinese food mentor and lover off all things tasty Loh Sea Keong.

Mr Loh is Mr Happy

In the Red Corner, Asian racing veteran and anti-fat zealot Brad Hall

Brad and Jono, getting into Qinghai Shape

I first arrived in Geleen with hard established routines with my healthy eating in place. This was completmented by the strict low fat diet of Brad. To quote Brad from various times and places

"Oh no, I don't eat nuts, too much fat"
"Hmm no, deep fried, not for me"

 Frankly, I am jealous at his commitment and fortitude, it's really something to behold. His diet is pretty darn sensational, and what's what, it works for him. He does not do fat.

 But I was getting mixed messages.

 I would look across and see Loh with Red wine and a thick wedge of triple cream brie, and he would just smile and laugh;

 "It doesn't matter Jono! You worry too much, whatever makes you happy. I have wine, I have cheese, I have no depression!"

And it sure worked for Loh. He was in for the long haul, he knew how to manage long stints away from home. And he knew what he needed to keep himself going; small doses of the good stuff.

Loh chucking another steak on the barbie

In reflection, I now know I sit the fence between those two. It's all or nothing. I have a split personality, for half the year I am Loh, for half the year I am Brad. I can only get through each period of being Brad because I know the reward of being Loh is not too far around the corner.

Those in attendance at one recent and notably ferocious dumpling session saw Rhys Gillett put away more than a few plates of dumplings. These people bear witness to the success of the All or Nothing approach. He is one skinny MOFO.


All or Nothing, do tell more:
When the time is right, have a few drinks, have some of that tasty cake. Enjoy it. Go nuts. As long as you are aware that all these jolly festivities will have to be worked off. There is no creative Greek accounting here, Goldman Sachs aren't gonna help you hide that blubber off the balance sheet, it's there. You know it's there. You have been warned.

When it's time to get down to business then there's no more messing about, cut the crap, drop the alcohol, get used to being a bit peckish most of the time, and get pedalling. It works for me.

I have one weakness though. One thing that keeps my obsessive compulsive tendencies at bay more than any toenail picking sesh' or any knuckle crack. That's coffee.

What's that you ask, coffee's not unhealthy? What are you on about you nutjob?

Well, long story short, (and aside from delving deep into the positives or negatives of caffeine, although if you feel like bombarding my comments, go nuts...) I ween myself down off coffee coming into big races to maximise the caffeine kick I can utilise during races. Or, moreso, just to get rid of any withdrawals if for whatever reason (god help me) I can't get a coffee before a race.

What this means for me is it's damn hard to be battling the bulge AND dosing down off coffee at the same time. It's very hard.

Yeh Yeh, I hear you all say, tough the **** up.

But no. Stuff ya's all.


And yes it is worth the stress of managing the ebbs and flows of going up and down through BMI categories and various states of caffeine addiction. It's very much worth it. Because food is awesome. And coffee is even awesomer (Yes I did that)


I know what process works for me

Haidar, Loh, Brad, Jono all tucking in

The question is, what works for you?

Big Brother Altitude House- Living with Iron Men and Women

Time in the altitude house out at VU has come and gone.

There were a number of good things about livin' life in the altitude hotel. Firstly, it's dam motivating being around a bunch of  endurance athletes preparing for the Hawaiian Ironman.

Dinner time conversation usually goes like this:

"What did you get up to today Jono?"
"Oh, I've been pretty busy, I went home about 10am, then I snuck off to do some pilates then I got back to do my hour of riding in the heat. You?

"Yeh not too much, just up a touch before 5am to get to swim squad, then back for my hour in the heat on the bike, then to work for 12 hours then I just ran from work to home, to the physio's, then to the gym, then back here and  I'm gonna knock off some calf raises then I'll be done.... it's been a cruisey day."

The funny part is you think I'm joking.

Secondly, it's even better being a 'hard working' uni student around a bunch of double timers (that is, full time worker + full time athlete). I certainly appreciate the flexibility in my schedule that's for sure.

Aside from time playing lab rat I've been getting on the bike OUTSIDE (which is freakin sensational)

Take this morning, Beach Road;
-Coffee
-Sun
-No wind
-Good training partner, Mitch aka Dr Moo.
 -Coffee


On Sunday, out through Eltham,
-Coffee
-Sun
-Nice hills
-No magpies (got lucky)
-Wicked muffins at Smiths Gully (+ coffee)
-Good chatting with Stalds
-Tagging onto a bunch on the trip home (Who knew, a break away bunch from the 6amers , know there's another bunch of guys who I can train with and have my legs ripped off)

All the things that make cycling great; different training grounds, different training partners, tasty baked goods, copious amounts of coffee and those luuuurvely post exercises endorphins. Like all good things, cycling is addictive.


Perfect

And on a final note I did another interview, this time with Shawry.

Indoors Vs Outdoors

Riding indoors is not fun. It is
-Sweaty
-Hot
-Irritating
-Tedious


Riding Outdoors is fun. It Is
-Totally Awesome
-Totally fun
-A lot more social
-Exilirating
-Relaxing
-Not quite anagramitcal (I may or may not have made that word up)

So, 10 weeks ago I got chopped up. 10 weeks later I am now going for a ride outside. I can't wait. So, very, excited.

Anywho.... it makes perfect sense that after an extended period of being locked indoors pedalling furiously but going nowhere, that one would stay the heck away from all forms of indoor cycling.

For me, however, I have signed myself up for another two weeks of pure indoor bliss. I'll be stationed out at Vic Uni in Footscray where nights will be spent sleeping at 2500m and days will be spent with an hour back at sea level but with the heat dial racked up to 30 degrees and 80 percent humidity and I'll be trucking away at 70% of VO2. Should be, um, fun.  I figured a bit of structure would be good in getting back into the swing. Now  I think it might be a bit of a drag! But hey, it'll be easier than Qinghai lake...

So back on the bike means back on the blog. Happy times.

Jono