The Waiting Game

Nothing specific of interest is going on right now.

In about a month, I’ll be taking unpaid sabbatical to head west out to race Pierre’s Hole and the Breck Epic. I’d originally planned on a longer, more Epic® trip that included the Breck 100, but the time spent from home/work would have been closer to 7 weeks if I’d given myself time to acclimate. So, the mini-epic will be a truncated version- I’ll drive out to Victor, ID to stay with Amanda for 2 weeks around the PH100, then head down to Breckenridge to tackle the Epic. I’ve vowed to NOT drive home while I’m feeling race-trashed, so I’ll hang out in the Front Range area for a few days and recover before I make the long trip home.

‘Til then, I’m falling back in love with training for shorter races. Two-3 hour interval rides are a welcome reprieve to the 4-6 hour endurance/interval rides that I’ve been grinding out. Along with higher intensity training, I’m not drinking much beer. Turns out, the less beer butt (like a beer gut, but for women) I have to haul, the faster I can go up those big hills they have out in the Rockies. According to Dicky, this behavior is also known as “doping.” All I need to add now is some strength/beauty tea:

 

In other news, read this article about the 2013 stuff coming from Cannondale: Bike Rumor- Cannondale Press Camp

First off, I want to mention that I’m still a holdout for not using disc brakes in Cyclocross races (and by “cyclocross races,” I’m not talking about gravel grinders/Ultracross races that involve long, sometimes steep descents on gravel roads). If the conditions are wet and muddy (when the discs would have a distinct advantage over rim brakes), chances are that if you just stop pedaling for a second, you’ll be going plenty slow. Also, I’m the queen of bruising myself via unintentional contact with my own cyclocross bike. Looks like if the current trend continues, I’ll also be the queen of slicing and/or burning myself with a warm disc rotor as well. However, since Cannondale now only offers discs on their badass frame, other manufacturers will likely follow suit, and, at some point, I’ll be forced, kicking and screaming, into the “new technology,” and it’s likely I’ll get over it. But, until then, I’ll just bitch and moan about how much they’re not necessary.

More importantly, though, is the Cannondale Supersix Evo Women’s bike. Hell. Yes. (If you missed my post about thoughts on women’s bikes, read here: http://blog.brickhouseracing.com/?p=4378.) I absolutely love that they’re going all out with a women’s model. I’ve already contacted our Cannondale rep to let him know that I’m in for one as soon as humanly possible. As far as I can tell, everything about the bike is exactly as I’d like it built (except for its lack of carbon clinchers, but that’s splitting hairs). I’d be removing the badass one-piece chainring/spider and replacing it with a powermeter spider, but otherwise, the stock bike is a rare bird of perfection out of the box.

That’s kinda all for now. Life is pretty stable for now. Just waiting.

 

 

Legends of Stanky Creek XC

It’s been a hot minute since I’ve raced a Cross Country race. In fact, this was just my 6th one since I started riding off-road in 2009 and 3rd one since I upgraded to Cat 1 (with my 1st Cat1 race being a DNF because of a broken derailleur). So, with my area of expertise generally swinging between 100 milers and 45 minute CX races, I wasn’t 100% sure on pacing myself (not totally in the dark- more like about 90%).

Stanky creek is rooty as hell. The turns are small and the hills are tight. Err… close enough.

I decided a while back that I’d ride the Crowbar. While anything can be fast out there, the full suspension lets you keep traction over the roots & whatnot, so you can pay less attention to your line and more attention to the next turn. I did a few single laps out there leading up to race day, and had my lap time nailed down to ~50min. I figured that’d be a good starting point on pacing for 3 laps, and I could modify the plan depending on the competitive heat.

Only 2 other women entered the Cat 1 race- Laureen Coffelt, who I race against often in the NUE series, and Jennifer Moorehead, who has been on hiatus for a bit and is just now getting back into it. We lined up behind the Cat 1 men and started 2 minutes after the 40+ age group.

When the race started, I took the holeshot. The way the trail rides is very tight in the first few miles, gradually opening up to the more flowy, power-hungry white trail for the last few miles (with the white trail being briefly interrupted by a tighter, anti-flow loop that was built a few years ago). I aimed to maintain speed in the first section by staying off of the brakes as much as possible then start dropping the hammer in the sections where the trail was more open. Everything went off without a hitch, except for the creek crossing. The race directer did a great job of making it nice and smooth, with a bit of a berm over the exit lip to keep it from becoming eroded again. However, the turn to get onto the trail is sharp and left on the exit, and I found myself launching into the bushes and putting a foot down every time I crossed it. EVERY time. Oops.

My slightly conservative strategy meant that I could hear the other women behind me for a little while. Once I was on the more open trail, I started to lay down the wattage, and they disappeared. After that, I was alone. Well, I passed a few of the men that started ahead of me, but someone that you’ve put 2+ minutes into generally doesn’t put up much of a fight when you want to get around. I found myself getting complacent in the 2nd lap. I got a little mad at myself for not going full-bore and dug in the spurs.

I was satisfyingly tired by the 3rd lap, but was able to continue pushing. I took enough chances that I had some close-call almost wrecks, but managed to remain upright the entire race. There was one cramping incident near the end of the last lap- I swung my right knee out for balance, only to have my inner thigh muscle turn itself into a ball. I talked to it… trying to convince it that I needed it to fully function for just another 10 minutes. I finished in just a hair over 2.5 hours- 7 minutes ahead of Laureen, who was minutes ahead of Jennifer.

It’s weird to race for 2.5 hours. I feel like I could have gone a little faster, but, like in some of the CX races from last winter, once I’m way out front, I tend to take fewer risks and take the pace down to a few clicks below “bleeding out of my eyeballs.” However, it’s going to take racing against people that can kick my ass in every direction to get that sort of effort. It’s good training to get ready for the Breck Epic, so my search for an ass-kicking will continue until I find one.

F***yeahTraining

I finally bushwhacked my way out of post-race(s) recovery, and now I’m t**s-deep in a training cycle meant to bring about the top-end I’m going to need to race at altitude in August. It’s hard, and it makes me eat and sleep like my life depends on it (as opposed to just recovering/refreshing my legs between races every other weekend). I’m actually going to race a local XC race on Sunday (Legends of Stanky Creek), but, schedule-wise, I’ve been generally treating it like another hard day of training.

In all honesty, I’ve been going at it hard enough the past couple of weeks that I’ve reached the point that I’m kinda relieved that I’m racing this weekend, because it’s easier (motivation-wise) to push in that situation vs. going at it alone. It’ll be a nice break from the (occasionally abusive) self-talk that goes on in my head during the last half of most intervals.

Hard training also brings about the best recovery rides… there’s absolutely no temptation to go outside of “Zone 1-2” when your legs are aching from yesterday, and tomorrow is bound to be a killer. Today, I even stopped to help a little turtle cross the road…

 

How little? Here’s a better shot… for scale:

Enve Carbon Wheels- Mid Term Report

Back sometime in March, I bought a pair of Enve’s carbon XC wheels. I have the 32 spoke model- they do come in 28 spoke, and the guy at Enve was very helpful when I called to talk about which ones I should get. He said that at my weight, I could definitely go 28 spoke and I’d have no problems. However, advice is what you ask for when you’ve already made up your mind.

These wheels are stiff.

It took being somewhat uncomfortable with my suspension setup at Ouachita Challenge to realize this. On my previous geared setup, I used crest rims and a REBA XX fork. Some people complain that particular fork is too soft. I really liked it. The SID XX World Cup fork is not as plush. It wasn’t until I bought a set of stiff wheels that I was forced to deal with my picky-ness in forks. I played around with air pressure for a while and found some improvement, but ultimately, I decided I’d try replacing the 5 weight oil in the damper with 2.5 weight. Perfection! My fork now feels more like the previous… only much lighter.

What’s this got to do with wheels?

My point is that when you go from wheels that are light and flexy (“noodly” if you will) to wheels that are equally as light but incredibly stiff, you’re forced to pay a lot more attention to your suspension setup and tire pressure. I don’t think it’s a downside to them at all, unless you’re the type that likes to be ignorant of those things.
The added stiffness translates to more direct steering. The improved accuracy means more precise moves through technical stuff and tight turns. Even at 145 pounds geared up, I notice this. If you’re a bigger person, the difference will likely be more dramatic. If you’re already riding a stiff bike like the Air9 Carbon, all of the awesome acceleration/handling characteristics that you love about the bike will be that much better.

The durability of these wheels has been amazing. I haven’t trued them once since I first started using them. I’ve done almost all of my training (outside of road training) and all of my racing on them. There are a couple of gouges in the carbon where I’ve come into contact with something that probably would have ended a crest rim. If you’re tired of disposable lightweight aluminum rims, pony up and get carbon. I’m reasonably certain it would take a catastrophic event to irreparably damage these wheels.

A lot of the strength of these wheels comes from the engineering and molding process. The rims are formed with a removable bladder (with most carbon rims, the bladder is made of nylon or other lightweight material and remains in the rim). The Enve bladder is proprietary and is removed during manufacturing. The biggest difference between these and other carbon rims is that the spoke holes are baked into the rim during the rim-making process (as opposed to drilling once the rim is complete). The small, molded-in holes mean that the spoke nipples are internal. That would be a pain in the ass (with tubeless tape, etc) when it came to truing, except that they just don’t need to be trued every time you hit a bump like with a traditional light aluminum wheel.

If you did happen to damage one, though, ENVE has an excellent crash replacement program.

Other upsides?

Made in the USA (not that stuff made overseas is necessarily bad… it’s just nice to know that the company is employing individuals on our side of the ocean). Politics, jobs, blah blah blah…

There’s nothing proprietary about them. The nipples could be a little hard to find at every shop- they’re an internal pillar-style, but if you’re looking to be well prepared and keep that stuff around, your local shop can get them (QBP Part #SP0450). The spokes are a DT aerolite bladed spoke. Once again, available through any bike shop. The actual lacing/tensioning process is traditional, too. (an example of a “non-traditional” build is the Easton rear wheel that requires de-tensioning/re-tensioning of the rear wheel in order to replace a spoke).
Hubs are whatever you want. I opted for the DT240 set that they offer on their website, but they’ll build whatever hubs you send them into a wheelset, or you can buy the rims and build them yourself. The only thing you can’t use are the Industry 9 spokes that thread in to the hubs- they don’t fit through those nice, small, molded-in spoke holes.

Complaints?

Tubeless setup is not as easy as a Stan’s rim. It’s not necessarily hard… it’s just not “unwrap a tire and seat it with a pump” easy. I found that for most new tires, I need to remove the valve core and apply plenty of soap to the bead in order to get it to seat.

I only have one real complaint about my wheelset…if you spray them with a hose, they’ll take on water. I’m guessing that if you submerged them while riding, it’d also happen. It’s hard to discern the sound of water in a rim from the sound of Stan’s in the tire, and the best way I’ve found to get the water out is to loosen the valve nut a little and flip the wheel around so that the water drips out. Kinda annoying, because a rim is the last place you’d want extra weight. Given the profile of the rim, though, I’m not sure how you’d prevent it.

All-in-all, I’m very happy with these wheels. I would love to get a set of the all-mountain-width rims to use with my singlespeed since I often use an Ardent 2.4 on it when I’m riding rigid. I’ve also switched to an Ardent 2.25 as a nearly-exclusive front tire for riding with suspension. I’d love to see the shape of that one on a wider profile rim.

Bike Stuff

I’ve never been one to follow all the rules, so I decided that when The A9RDO’s chain just surpassed .4mm of stretch, I’d try something other than the “mandatory” Shimano chain on the XTR drivetrain. I was shopping around and came across KMC X10SL chains. They have a super baller one in black. Seeing as I’m vain and want to make my bike as stealthy as possible, I chose that one… because, you know, the XTR one isn’t fancy enough (in addition to that, I’ve got a gold 9-spd KMC on my singlespeed that’s seen hundreds of miles and is still in excellent shape).

This thing retails for around $140. (Good thing I work in a shop, right?)

Sure, it’s a part that will eventually wear out, and, given its lightness and sexiness, possibly faster than a chain that I could purchase for $20. However, I’d like to see how the DLC (short for “diamond-like coating”) fares under the rigors of endurance training & racing. Also, it matches my bike and comes in a velvet-lined box…

 

I installed it this morning and went for a ride. Shifting is no different than with the XTR chain. I took a photo, but you can’t really get a feel for the sexy stealth-ness now that it’s coated in a layer of dust:

 

On a totally unrelated note… ANIMAL PHOTOS!!!! Everyone loves animal photos!

Don’t call it a comeback…

In case you’re just now joining me, here’s a little rundown of the past few months in training/racing:

Late winter/spring- got a little bit of a late start on my endurance training because of the training leading up to master’s worlds. Didn’t matter. First few races of the spring, I felt great. Killed it at Southern Cross, Spa City 6hr, Ouachita, and Slobberknocker (scroll back through the archives for race reports).
Then, at the end of April, Cohutta rolls around. First 100 of the season. I did well, but I wasn’t 100% ripping the cranks off of my bike, which is kinda how my training/tapering was supposed to set me up. It’s OK, I thought… just a little leftover “tired” from Slobberknocker.

I rested up and tried to get back to normal training a week later… only to fail miserably.

I rested some more and felt better before Syllamo. However, it was a lot like Cohutta- not bad, but definitely not Incredible Hulk-style crank bending, either. Then, at Syllamo, my brain and body shut down. More rest before Mohican.

Up to Mohican, I was better than before Syllamo. Mohican was a good race. Not my best, but not bad.

I rested some more up until last Saturday. My prescribed training was 3.5 hours easy-ish. I decided that instead of subjecting myself to a 3.5 hour road ride that I’d join Fullface Kenny for ~45miles of hauling ass through the Wolf River and Stanky Creek trails on our Jet9s. The “tired” that I felt after that ride wasn’t the oppressive, full mind/body tired… it was a satisfying sort of tired that is mainly concentrated to your legs and appetite for food, beer, and more training.

Then, yesterday, it was back to road training. As a preparation for some more XC-oriented racing, I went out to ride steady with occasional hill attacks. It went really well. I got the “rip your cranks off” feeling back as the ride progressed.

The blood lust is back.

My future plans involve a couple of regional XC races followed by Pierre’s Hole and the Breck Epic. What about the Breck 100? Well, the logistics just weren’t working out. In order to acclimate, etc. I was just going to be gone from home for too long. So, I’m narrowing the focus a little and compacting my trip West into 3 weeks instead of 6. The way I’m feeling now, I don’t think it will disappoint.

Go fast… sometimes sideways.

Good lord, I haven’t posted in almost a week. That’s like, blog kryptonite, or something.

This week’s slightly bike-related post is about the often-times painfully bored existence of the stereotypical adrenaline junkie. The event that brought about this post was a short car ride. Last week at work, one of Fullface Kenny’s friends stopped by. This friend, a Porsche driving school instructor, was driving a Nissan 240. The Nissan 240 contained both a roll cage and a Chevy LS1 motor (the same one that you’ll find in a Corvette).

You see where I’m going with this…

We spent all of 5 minutes driving around the deserted back road from the shop. A large portion of that 5 minutes was spent drifting sideways and/or accelerating as fast a possible. It’s amazing what a very skilled driver can do with a very powerful machine. I spent most of the time plastered against the seat and giggling as much as I could.

According to Kenny, that’s Dude’s normal mode of driving. He gets tickets. Apparently, he once got a warning for wheelie-ing a street bike in front of a cop with a 24-pack of budweiser strapped to the tail. Why no ticket? Because the cop said that it was the dumbest thing he’d seen that day and was going to have a good time telling his buddies back at the station.  What’s the point of telling you all of this? Well, I can see a few of you shaking your heads and thinking about what a total idiot this guy is. However, also according to Kenny, the guy has worked his way up a corporate ladder and has a very respectable, clean-cut, wear-a-suit-and-carry-a-card job. I can only imagine how much stupidly fast and sideways driving it would take me to unwind from that sort of thing.

“Adrenaline Junkie” is a totally cliched and played out stereotype, but if you think about the meaning of the words, it makes unfortunate sense. For whatever reason, we belong to a subset of homo-sapiens that requires heavy doses of epinephrine on a regular basis in order to feel satisfied with life in general… very much like an individual addicted to any externally available drug, substance or action.  If you don’t get it, you experience withdrawal.

Boredom.

For those of us living with co-morbidities of both adrenaline junkie-ism and Attention Deficit Disorder (maybe the two go together like diabetes and high blood pressure?), normal life can sometimes start to get depressingly boring, so we do things that other people think are crazy… like driving a car really fast and sideways, riding a mountain bike at high rates of speed, or completing incredibly random expeditions via various modes of human-power.

Side note- if you look into the bikecar videos at that last link, you’ll see the one I posted a couple of months ago where the expedition was interrupted by a motorized car. Dave looks almost excited that some sort of dangerous wrench was thrown into his plans. “F*CKYEAH, EXCITEMENT!!”

Boredom is a horrible thing. It’s almost physically painful. Some people reading this will agree, others will think I need to take my Ritalin and chill out. I’m on a constant search for small bites of excitement in everyday life. Not necessarily for adrenaline-raising purposes… just mostly for “something different and awesome” purposes.

Sometimes, it’s just cool stuff that shows up at the shop:


(that bike is all Campy!)

…or outside of the shop:

(Indy caught his 2nd mole ever… he has to eventually with the number of holes he digs in the process!)

Whatever it is, when I don’t get it, I start doing crazy things like cutting my hair into a mohawk or getting a new piercing. Anything to add the edge of danger or excitement to mundane periods of life.

Always unsettled, never unnerved

Mid weeks during a recovery period following a race tend to be the most torturous… at least for me. You feel good enough to not be tired, but tired enough that you aren’t going to do anything other than a recovery ride on the bike. As a result, I just feel extra restless. Mentally and physically.

In my head, I’m ready to get back into training. If you haven’t heard, the Breck Epic is the (self -proclaimed) Single Speed Stage Race World Championship (SSSRWC) race. This is, quite possibly, the best chance I’ve ever had to win a WC, and, while it’s somewhat of a tongue-in-cheek designation, I am a junkie for rainbow stripes on my jerseys.

In my race report, I forgot to mention a fun story about a woman named Colleen. Somewhere between aids 2 and 3, we re-entered singletrack from a bit of gravel road. It was one of the slightly techy sections, and, in my haste, I spun a tire on a slick rock at the base of a steep, rocky pitch. I hopped off to push, and, as I did, I realized that there was a group of people in harnesses and helmets just off the trail to my left.
With them was a woman hanging from a short, low, zip line. (I knew there was a tourist-y zipline thing in the area but I didn’t realize that the course cut right through it). This woman was somewhat overweight, dressed one notch too nice to be out in the woods, and her coiffed and curled hair was smashed under her red bowling ball-style helmet. As I was trudging through the rocks, I heard the group leader say, “nice job, Colleen!” as she swung slowly down the line. I could be totally wrong, but she looked absolutely terrified and out of her element. She was hanging in her harness like a side of beef in a butcher’s freezer (ok, yes, I realize that sounds mean, but, at 40something miles into a race, it was the first thing that popped into my head).

At that point, I yelled, “HELL, YEAH, COLLEEN! DO IT!”

…this prompted every other racer within earshot to also encourage Colleen at the top of their lungs.

I’d like to think that Colleen spent the day conquering her fears and came out a better person on the other end of the zipline course. Maybe she decided she’d start taking more risks, and, as I type this, is doing crazy stuff like driving 5 mph over the speed limit or getting the “hot” salsa instead of “mild.” Maybe later on that night, she had the courage to flirt with Darrel… the young, good-looking new hire from down the hallway.

Or maybe she’s still finding chigger bites and hates the woods even more than she did prior to her zipline experience.

I guess the take-away message is that doing something out of your comfort zone is a risk. Taking risks can be both terrifying and life changing (in both good and bad ways). Risk-taking prevents complacency, and, in my mind, complacency is the most vile and evil thing I can think of. Complacency is the brother of “Good Enough,” who is first cousin to both “Lazy” and “Stagnant.” Risk-taking is the daughter of Challenge.

I realized that I’m not necessarily “tired” of 100 mile races, but that I’ve grown slightly complacent. I’m not good enough to battle for placing, I’m merely fit enough to ride at my own pace, which occasionally happens to be faster than a majority of competitors. I have to challenge myself to be better. It’s scary, because if I’m faster, the expectations I have for myself are that much higher, and the competitive challenges I seek out will be larger and harder. It’s what I love, though.

So, while being restless and discontent is not a comfortable acute state, it almost always breeds change for the better.

Mohican 100 Race Report

After polling the viewing audience and doing a lot of riding/thinking, I decided I’d go with the geared bike for the Mohican race. It was a tough choice… I love singlespeed. I realized that repeatedly on course- I’d feel a touch on envy any time I was around someone on a singlespeed. I felt like an outcast.

Saturday morning was chilly. A cold front had moved through the day before, bringing rain and a drop in temperature. Luckily, the trails had been very dry, so most of the singletrack was in great shape. (I did bring the singlespeed with me… just in case). For whatever reason, the 100k racers were started with the 100 mile racers, making for a crowded start line. I warmed up for a little while then crammed myself in to the third or fourth row back. The start is always hectic at these races, and this one is no exception. After a downhill that’s just long enough to get going over 30mph, the road goes straight up- about 300 feet of elevation gain in 3/4 of a mile. My goal for the day was to stay in the big ring and ride it like a singlespeed whenever I could.

I found myself sitting in 2nd as we entered the first trails through the woods. Thankfully, my singletrack mojo was in full effect, and I negotiated the slippery, steep spots where a lot of people were spinning or sliding out. Half an hour in, and I still feel like I’m flying. Flying enough that I almost took a wrong turn at a 3-way intersection that was at the bottom of a hill. I couldn’t see the course markings until it was too late, so I came to a full-on sliding stop about 10 feet down the wrong trail. As I turned to get back onto the correct path, Kathleen Harding, a pro from Team CF, was coming down the same hill. I yelled at her and some other riders to go right. I got back onto the trail and stayed with her group. Eventually she and I were together. I decided to keep pace with her for a while and see what happened.

Not long after that, we made it to the first aid station. I’d decided to go with 3 bottles that morning (I LOVE having a medium frame with two water bottle cages!), and I had 1.5 bottles remaining. She stopped, and I made the split-second decision to push to the next aid before refilling. (Spoiler alert- I made it to aid 2 about 5 minutes after I drank the last of my 3rd bottle).

I was alone for a little while. It was about 2.5 hours in, and I realized that I was really bored. Not acutely… the singletrack was great, and a lot of fun… but kinda bored with the whole “ride 100 miles” thing. I’d had a similar thought at Syllamo, but figured I should wait until I was having a good race before I decided I was tired of 100 mile races. Yeah. Kinda Bored.

It wasn’t long after that when I heard a commotion behind me- Brenda was coming up the trail with a train of male riders dangling on her wheel as if they thought they could keep up with the half-pint horror for another 70 miles (in case you’re wondering, of course I mean that as a compliment). She and I rode together for a little while until I struck a pedal and wrecked. She and Lee quickly disappeared up the trail. I didn’t chase. However, unlike last time, when I just didn’t care about chasing, this time, I was in such a good groove and pushing just hard enough that I just decided that I’d stick to my plan and see how it unfolded. (spoiler alert #2- she beat me by about 18 minutes)

Once I was out of the initial singletrack, I made it a point to eat and drink plenty. Even though it was going to be a mild day, I didn’t want to get behind on anything. At one point, a couple of guys rode by and told me that there was another woman not far behind me. I kept that thought in my head the remainder of the day.

As with any 100 mile race, there were chunks of the day where I wasn’t having the best time and chunks of the day that I don’t really remember. I kept chipping away at the miles, though. The wind was a little relentless, and it seemed that every time I was on the road, I was usually without a wheel to draft. The best part, though, was turning on to the (often dreaded) 9 miles of flat gravel rail trail section and getting a wicked tailwind for the first couple of miles. One of the other more notable spots was between aid 4 and 5… just before the midpoint water stop, there was a descent that was so steep that I was laying into both brakes, sliding/skidding a little, and when I hit a bump, my saddle bumped up and smacked the underside of a boob. Sure, maybe I was back a little further than I needed to be… but I wasn’t endo-ing or walking, either.

I eventually passed the final aid station and found myself in the final 5 miles of singletrack. I looked over my shoulder the entire way to the finish line. It was a good thing, too- if you watch this video on Cyclingdirt, you’ll see just how close Kathleen was…

So, I had a pretty good race and finished 3rd in 8:44- an hour faster than last year. Yes, this time, I was faster with gears. I still love my singlespeed, though.

I don’t know how bored I am with 100s. Maybe I just need to be faster so I’m doing more “racing” and less “100 mile time trial” style riding. I can’t see myself leaving them totally, because if I did, I’d miss all of the adventures and all of the awesome people that I get to hang out with before/after the race. For now, I’m gonna take a step back and prep for the Breck Epic that starts mid-August. The focus now shifts to building the speed and top-end that I’ll need to race the shorter days at altitude.