I Got a Biking Coach

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“Hey Jim, you want one of these cookies?” says Ted King. “One is chocolate chip and the other is one of those fruit, nut, and chocolate things.”

What Ted doesn’t know this morning, as he tries to ply me with his cookie bounty, is sometime in the next hour he will go from being Ted King, my famous former cycling pro deskmate, gravel-grinding superstar, product tester, and all around good guy, to “Coach Ted” — explaining what I need to know about my diet, questioning my level of commitment, and describing VO2 max.

I’m about to ask him to be my coach because … I need help.

Mark

You see I had some health issues earlier this year, which you can read about here, and I desperately need to get my weight back under control and my fitness back on track.

Don’t get me wrong, I have been doing remarkably well considering my situation. I recently returned from a month in Europe where I did some pretty epic climbs in the Dolomites and I even dragged my tired ol’ ass up Mont Ventoux for a 14 mile jaunt, climbing over 5200 feet of vertical. It was a spectacular trip with some amazing people, but it was not what you would call easy. I was the slowest peddler on every climb and spent more time in the follow car than I would have liked.

But that is not my real problem, my real problem is Mark.

Just a little over a year ago my friend Mark got bit by the bike bug and it bit him bad. He has dropped a mind-boggling amount of weight, turned his garage into a Bat Cave for bicycle nerds, filling it with Pinarello bicycles and all manner of bicicletta toys.

Mark wants us to ride together.

Gauntlet Thrown

And Mark is training. Training like an athlete. Training like he means it.
He has power meters and heart-rate monitors and computer applications to help him track, parse, and ponder his every pedal stroke.

Mark is driving me crazy. He has plans. Rides he wants to ride. Times he wants to hit. Power numbers he needs to reach. VO2 max tests to take. Power threshold things he wants to improve.
And he has a coach.

A coach. A fucking coach.

He has someone to help set up a training program. Someone to vent to and celebrate with. Someone to hold him accountable and to help him turn-it-up, turn-it-down, or turn-it-off based on actual facts garnered from the data.

Me? I got no data, no power meter, and definitely no coach. The only plan I have had is to whoop his ass up the next hill and pimp him at the town-line sprint.

Well, that was until this morning. Now I got a plan and … a coach. Coach King.

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Fear of Commitment

I was going to use Mark’s coach, but realized, I have a coach sitting right next to me! I thought to myself, Ted has some decent palomares, having spent nearly a decade in the ProTour, and he seems oddly willing to step into the role.

“Are you going to be serious about this?” said Coach King. This was the gist of our initial Coach/Student interview process.

My reputation of being less-than-serious about my training, bike riding, and life in general, seems to have made on impression on Mr. King. He wanted to make sure he wasn’t wasting his time.
Honestly, I have my own doubts about my commitment.

I think this might be why I haven’t had a coach up until now. The commitment. The overseeing eye. The overarching disappointment as I fail to reach any semblance of success. Plus, all the math.

Coach King starts talking about 4x5s and 3×1.5s and anaerobic threshold percentages and I flash straight back to 8th grade math class and the tears start to well up in my eyes. But then, Mark’s voice begins to echo in my head, “Come on Jim, when else are you going to do this?” and then, I decide … I’m in.

I will share my training plan, the inevitable defeats and the glorious victories in the coming weeks, but for now, I will leave you with this little gem from the initial exchange with my new coach.

“Eating donuts is fun,” said Coach King. “So is eating carrots.”
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Race to Fitness: The Reward System, As I Know It, Is Bullshit

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Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream. Photo: Jim Merithew/Element.ly
Photo: Jim Merithew/Element.ly

I was at dinner the other night with my wife and some friends when the topic of my diet came up.

Because, you know, the only thing your non-bike riding friends want to hear about more than your stupid bicycle riding exploits, it is your kooky diet strategies.

During the course of the pleasant dinner conversation the question came up about “rewarding” oneself after a particularly long ride or a tough workout.

This got me thinking.

I’ve lived under the sweets-as-reward pardigm my entire life. If I was well-behaved in church I got a donut. If I got good news from school I got a cookie.

If I made it through an hour without getting fired by my mother at our rollerskating rink, I got some licorice rope or a slushie. (Yeah, we owned a rollerskating rink, but that is a story for a different time).

If me and neighbor kids played nice we got ice cream.

And on into adulthood the pattern continued.

If I had a tough study week I went out and had a big meal and desert.

Ok, actually, I went to Uncle K’s and drank a bunch of beer. But the same principle applies.

This doesn’t even begin to take into account Holiday “rewards.” The type of rewards you get for it just being a particular day of the year.

The problem is, now this strategy of rewarding myself for doing something good is counterproductive to the reason for doing the good thing to begin with. In my case, anyway.

The reward system has systematically undermined my desire to be healthy and, to be completely honest, thinner and faster on the bike.

I’ve rewarded myself into being 20 plus pounds overweight. I’ve convinced myself having a muffin (or two) on a long ride is completely reasonable. Or eating half a pizza after a particularly hilly ride is just me replacing the nutrients my body needs.

The pattern repeats itself over and over. I do something good for myself and then I “reward” myself by basically undoing whatever positive effect exercise might have had on my wellness.

I’m not saying the exercise didn’t have it’s benefit, but I am saying I have been making nutritionally bad decision after bad decision, based on wanting to “treat” myself for doing something I love.

I don’t need a reward to feel good about something I already feel good about doing.

I’m going to see this pattern of behavior for what it truly is, a road better left not ridden.
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“Put Me In Any Race”: An Interview With Laurens Ten Dam

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Laurens “Wolfman” ten Dam is a slightly more groomed these days, in comparison to years past. Photo: Jim Merithew/Element.ly

Laurens ten Dam wasn’t voted most popular in his high school yearbook.

“I was already racing my bike by 17,” he says. “Which was considered pretty weird in comparison to drinking beer and smoking pot. But then maybe you were a little bit the outlaw because you were really into sports.”

Ten Dam, who now rides for pro tour team LottoNL-Jumbo, is no longer the outlaw and he certainly does not lack for popularity. He has over 75,000 followers on the popular athlete site Strava and those same followers gave his nine mile ride to the grocery store last week 1660 kudos.

“I just try to be myself,” he says. “I don’t try to make up something to be popular.”

We caught up with Ten Dam outside the world headquarters of Strava. He was making a quick appearance between a three-week training camp in Tahoe—part of his Tour de France prep—and his flight back home. While he was in Northern California he made sure to secure the Donner Pass KOM on Strava to add to his virtual trophy shelf.

“Getting those KOMs is like any other mountain top finish,” says Ten Dam. “I had to just sit down.”

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Ten Dam asked to get a peak at the famous bike closet during his visit to Strava. Photo: Jim Merithew/Element.ly

He sipped on his macchiato (“This is good coffee.”) and when we asked if he would like some fruit or something else to eat, he declined. He is watching his weight (or lack there of).

During our brief time together, we tried to get the answer to the questions the main stream media are afraid to ask.

What’s your spirit animal: They call me Wolfman. He says he got this nickname a few years ago when he showed up at the tour with a full beard and long, long hair. “Like an animal.”

Toilet paper, over or under: Over

Stemware up or down: I just had to put it down while I was in Tahoe, but at home, up.

Favorite color: Red, um no Yellow.

Three friends using three words to describe you: My best friends would say I am a pitbull, never giving up. I’m honest. And I’m a pain in the ass. I can trigger them. Always moaning and bitching. Always bitching.

Boxers or briefs: What’s a brief? Oh. Boxers.

Favorite food: BBQ Steak

Least favorite: Sugary foods. I like them, but I don’t eat them.

Favorite race: Tour de France

Least favorite: I love racing. I’ve even done the kermesses in Belgium. Actually you can put me in any race.

Favorite non-bicycling activity: enjoying a nice Belgian beer.

You seem to be very popular with the dudes, but not so popular with the ladies: I don’t know maybe they see the ring on my finger and I’ve been with my wife since I was very young, so I don’t know. You will have to ask them.

Longterm plan: I want to ride my last professional year with an American domestic team. Maybe live in Santa Cruz, ride four hours, go the beach and bbq some steaks.
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Ten Dam gets the star treatment while being interviewed at Strava Headquarters. Photo: Jim Merithew/Element.ly