In a previous post, I mentioned that I’ve been having saddle troubles. Since I first proclaimed my sit bone pain (amongst other parts), I’ve been in saddle research mode. After my century tomorrow, I’m prepared to keep pushing forward with my search. Here’s what I’ve learned so far. Continue reading
This year we decided to vacation without our bikes. And three days into the vacation, I’m convinced that it was a good decision. My husband just came off of a tough race (and a resulting injury) and my century training has led to some pretty intense hours in the saddle. So with bare roof racks, we decided to head to Portland, Maine. It didn’t take long for us to fall in love with Portland. The place is full of breweries, bike shops and beaches. Throw in a lobster—or three—and that’s my idea of paradise. Continue reading
Training plans are great, but sometimes you just have to throw them out the window. I’ve been putting in longer miles for The Catskill Century in August. I decided to trade duration for intensity last weekend and headed out for a group ride chock full of stiff climbs.
It was hot as we rolled out early. Right off the bat, there were two mechanics spaced apart in the first hour. It was stop and start and my legs began to stiffen up. As the temperature soared, I could also feel a new saddle sore forming under my ill-fitting saddle. I was shifting around on the saddle, unable to find a comfortable spot. I climbed with stiff legs that kept whispering to me, “hey, let’s pedal home, I’m tired.” For once, I should have listened. Continue reading
When good saddles go bad.
That’s right, my saddle has turned on me. I rode a thousand miles, including a century, on my Specialized Toupe and then it started to feel uncomfortable. When my bike fitter took a look, he pointed out that I was sitting way off the back of the saddle. My sit bones were clinging to the edge like a nervous sky diver. Continue reading
How do motorists view cyclists? I don’t mean if they see us or not on the road, I mean what goes through their mind when a spandex-clad, cleanly shaven dude goes whizzing past them on an expensive piece of carbon fiber? Continue reading