Endurance Sports Show: Take Away Part two

endurance sports

Part one includes information on running myths, low carb endurance, and running biomechanics and can be found by scrolling down after this post.

Here are the major points I took away from the lectures on Open Water Swimming and Transition Two in Triathlons at the Endurance Sports Show this past weekend.

Open Water Swimming: (1) You can draft in swimming just like in cycling; (2) an efficient way around a buoy is to cork screw, roll from front to back to front as you turn around the buoy; (3) sight on nearly every stroke, if you don’t see what you want just keep sighting don’t slow down; (4) you should do speed work in every swim even on recovery swims; (5) there are two main schools of swimming: Total immersion and straight arm turn over, they are not compatible; (6) get comfortable with other people in the water and in open water; (7) triathletes don’t want to build massive shoulders like elite swimmers because it slows them down on the bike and run; (8) swim until your hands brush the bottom when exiting the water, running through the water is a waste of energy.

Triathlon T2: (1) the tri-bike body position makes this transition a little easier than a road bike position; (2) do two sets of deep air squats every day; (3) keep your lower back limber; (4) keep your hip flexors and hamstrings limber; (5) everyone struggles through this transition because the back and core muscles are cramped up on the bike; (6) lacrosse balls make excellent massage tools for the Hamstring. Place the ball under your thigh on the hamstring while on a hard surface, then bend and extend your lower leg. This causes the hamstring to move over the ball; (7) tape two lacrosse balls together to make a massage tool for the back, use it against a wall rolling it up and down your spine.

My big take away: I have a lot of work to do.

I’m pretty solid on my running. I know how to improve in that area. I know quite a lot about running, gear, mechanics, training strategies, physiology, strength, and injury.

I’m sad to admit that I’ve been walking around with an enormous mental block about cycling and swimming: that I can just put in the miles/meters and I’d be just fine. This is probably fine for a goal of “just finish the race,” but if you want to challenge yourself and see, what you are capable of accomplishing, it won’t work.

In other words, I need to apply the knowledge I have about running to swimming and cycling. I need to train as hard at these two as I do with running.

Finally, I was also able to corner one of the physical therapists at the Endurance Sports Show and ask about the pop in my knee two weeks ago. He said if I had torn a ligament, it would have swollen like a grapefruit immediately, and the swelling would not have gone down after two-three days. Diagnosis: sprained knee. I’m clear to run so long as it does not cause pain.

Endurance Sports Show: Take Away Part one

endurance sports

I attended the Endurance Sports Show this past Friday and Saturday. I wandered through the exhibit hall looking at booths on cycling, running, and swimming. I spoke with athlete’s and experts in all three areas. I listened to lectures on popular running myths, low carb endurances, running biomechanics, open water swimming, and the transition from bike to run during a triathlon. There was so much information and amazing knowledgeable presenters. I’m excited for years to come because this will only get bigger.

I’m going to do this in two parts because I know everyone is busy and can’t read long blog posts.

Here are the major things I took away from each lecture:

Running Myths: (1)Stretching doesn’t reliably prevent injury; (2) warm-ups don’t reliably prevent injury (3) motion control shoes regardless of foot type have the highest injury rate among runners; (4) neutral and stability shoes, regardless of foot type have the lowest injury rate among runners; (5) you should choose your shoes by comfort not foot type; (6) orthotics and store bought insoles have the same injury prevention rate regardless of injury type.

Low Carb Endurance: (1) Low carb athletes are setting major records; (2) Low carb athletes add in carbs during racing and high volume training depending on their tolerance for carbs; (3) low carb athletes consume under 50 carbs a day during low volume days; (4) Low carb athletes process carbs more efficiently and get the most bang for their buck; (5) the product Vespa assist in the body’s transition between burning fat and carbs; (6) low carb runners should be eating a lot of liver or taking a liver supplement and they need to watch their electrolyte levels more than other athletes.

Running Biomechanics: (1) there are ways to reduce impact forces both externally and internally; (2) shoes and gear are external and running form is internal; (3) Cadence is the best way to reduce impact; (4) like everything in running, you don’t want to make major changes to your cadence all at once, so follow the 10% rule; (5) 180 steps a minute is ideal for most (but not all) runners. You can get metronome apps to help with this; (6) maintain a 6% forward lean and keep your feet below your center of gravity; (7) you should be landing with a bent knee. This is more important than the contact point of your foot (heel strike, mid-foot, or forefoot); (8) hip strength is a big deal in running form, it maintains your legs in the proper position beneath your body.

Part Two will be posted on Wednesday: including open water swimming and the struggle of the T2 (bike to run) transition during triathlons.

A Vigil for Justice: Episode Thirty


A Vigil for Justice, is a serial thriller fiction novel. Updates of 1,000-1,500 words will be posted every Friday.

Recap: Sixteen-year-old Melanie Craig and her family live in the small Colorado mountain town of Blue River. Since the end of World War Three, the economy in the United States has dropped out making funding law enforcement impossible and increasing crime rates in all, but the smallest towns. The government passes a Law allowing anyone over 16 to kill three other people during their life. Vigilante justice doesn’t seem like the right solution to Melanie, but she has no choice other than to learn how to protect herself and her family.

Melanie had never been religious, yet, she found herself drawn to the small chapel in the hospital and not in mere passing. She had sought it out, asking a nurse where she could find it. She stopped at the threshold of the dimly lit room. White pine benches straddled a narrow isle leading to an altar made of the same pine and draped with a green cloth. No one was in the room. Melanie shuffled along the navy blue runner paving the way to the front, her mind was drawn into itself.

The idea of a god never sat right with her, but every time she found herself lost and clutching at the strings of hope, she sought god out.  Maybe this was some menial proof that there was a god or maybe she was willing to do anything to comfort herself through a belief that somewhere there was a sort of unconditional love and peace, that her existence was more than this life.

Believing that there was nothing after death did not sit well with her either, but nothing in life provided her with any assurance that there was more than darkness after the last breath. Melanie clung to this world and the life that it offered her, even though, it was not as she had imagined it.

She struck the match along the small cardboard box. Breathing in the sulfur, she touched the flame to the small white candle.  She sank to her knees. The cold tile pressed into her kneecaps. She closed her eyes and bowed her head.

She wasn’t asking for much, only that they all reach the safe zone alive.  She knew that if there was a god, she had to keep her request straightforward and reasonable. Alive.  Was that too much to ask? She didn’t mind so much if they were hungry, naked, injured, or sick. Just alive. She filled her lungs with the soft scent of incense, which she had not noticed before then.  It sent a jolt through her. It had not been there when she first entered.

Her eyes popped open and she lifted her head swinging it around to see behind her. It was the older woman she had seen in the hallway, when she had sat waiting to be taken to see her mom after surgery.  The woman sat on the bench on the second row. Her violet eyeglasses peeked out of the pocket on her white coat. Her caramel skin glowed in the flickering candlelight. Her head was tilted back and her eyes were closed.

Melanie watched the rise and fall of her chest. A calm tranquil expression softened the lines of age at the corners of the woman’s eyes and mouth.  Melanie got to her feet and the woman opened her brown eyes. Flecks of gold caught the light as a smile spread across the woman’s face.

“I’m Alyson Binkard,” she said and patted the spot next to her.

Melanie sat.

“Your mom’s here right?”

Melanie nodded.

“I’m a doctor in the trauma unit, not a stocker.”

Melanie didn’t need to look at her to see the smile. She heard it along with the suppressed laugh in Alyson’s voice.

“I think god has been watching over your mamma. A bullet in the belly is generally fatal.”

Melanie turned to her this time.

“What’s your name?”

“Melanie Craig.”

Alyson mouthed her name as if tasting it, and nodded her head a few times. “Well Melanie, I expect we will be seeing a bit of one another over the next week or two, while your mamma is here healing up. Perhaps we will get coffee sometime.”

Melanie smiled. “I’d like that.”

Melanie got to her feet and turned to go.

“Melanie, next time you’re in here, will you light a candle for me too?”

Melanie paused. “Of course, Dr. Binkard.”

“Alyson, please,” she said a gazed up at Melanie a sadness pulled at her face.

Melanie walked slowly back to her mom’s room. She looked in each of the rooms she passed. There were patients in each, sometimes three or four. Even in her mother’s room, there was another woman, who had been found at the bottom of a staircase, shattered and bleeding. She would hear the flat-line tone and rushing feet multiple times throughout the day and night, and she would hold onto her mom even tighter.

Melanie has been wandering the halls for three days now. Sometimes she watched her mom sleep, and sometimes she went for a walk. If her mom was awake, she was at her side.

Karalynn sent flowers, cookies, and books for Jennifer.  She visited when she could.

Mitchel brought Sam in each morning and they had breakfast together, and then he would take her back to Karalynn’s where she could play and be a child. She knew she was lucky to have Mitchel to look after Sam and Daisy while she stayed with her mom. She didn’t even have to ask him.

What in the Hell do people do on the weekend?

ice knee

Last Wednesday, while doing my strength routine, my left knee popped as I twisted out of the plank position. It had never done that before. It hurt a little. I poked and prodded it, and everything felt fine, nothing was tender. I finished my workout and didn’t think about it the rest of the evening.

The next morning, I went out for a ten mile run. Around mile seven, my knee started to hurt. It didn’t hurt bad, just a small ache at the inner top corner of the knee near the spot that had popped the night before.

“Oh god,” I thought, that would be perfect, an injured knee five weeks before a 100 mile race.

I kept running, of course, the pain didn’t get worse and after two miles it went away. “Whew. Dodged that bullet.”

Once I was back home, I ate breakfast, sucked down some coffee, and got ready for work. As I was bending to get into my car, my knee hurt. In fact it hurt for the rest of the day when I bent it more than just walking. It felt like it needed to pop. The skin was tight over my knee.

“Just great, it’s swollen,” I thought. I iced my knee at lunch and wrapped it with the ace wrap I keep in my desk drawer. I Iced it when I got back from court that afternoon and again after dinner.

I knew I was out of running and cycling for the weekend. I guess I should count myself lucky that it is a low mileage weekend. But, Saturday was the first team marathon training run. So Lame.

I met up with my team Saturday morning and explained that I couldn’t run. I hung out and drank coffee with Swiss Miss, who was going to run later in the day because of child care issues.

I spent all day Saturday laid up on the couch reading. All Day! I’m antsy. I’m bored. I take the dogs for a walk since walking doesn’t hurt. By Saturday afternoon, doesn’t hurt to bend anymore, but it’s still a little swollen and hurts at that top inner corner when I squat.

I spent all day Sunday laid up on the couch reading and writing. Swelling is gone. I continue to ice, compress, elevate, and rest. The swelling is gone. I’m antsy. I’m bored. I go get coffee at Starbucks just to get out of the house. I take the dogs for a walk.

At three in the afternoon, I text J$, “What in the Hell do people do on the weekend if they can’t run and cycle?”

“They watch T.V., eat food, and sit on the couch.”

“No wonder Prozac is doing so well.”


How Far I’ve Come…


It’s President’s Day weekend in the United States. Holiday weekends memories for me are full of prior race adventures. Six years ago, Red Hot 50k was my first official ultra. Red Hot is held on President’s Day weekend during February in Moab, Utah.

It is about thirty-three miles long and 10,000 feet of ascent. I love Moab so; it was a perfect race for me to start running ultras. Red Hot is not an easy 50k. It is along the slick rock trails around the city. In 2009, there was two feet of snow on the high plateaus, which was unexpected. The snow had been turned to powder by the front-runners, so for us mid-pack runners, it was like running in fluffy sand at the top of the plateau. I slipped nearly falling with three or four other runners right on my heels and a one hundred foot drop on my right. We descended to a dirt road, winding us around to the next climb. Gold Bar is the highest point of the race and a brutal climb. You have to reach it by 12:30 p.m. or you will be disqualified from the race.

From Gold Bar, the trail descends on the petrified sandstone mountains called slick rock and then back out on a dirt road. Then it’s a roller coaster ride up and over petrified sand dunes that require a running start, with hands on the ground in front of you to clamber up to the top. Runners chug along a lazy winding dirt road overlooking the white and pale green hills for three miles. We slowly lowered our bodies through rock crevasses down onto next boulder and into a sandpit and narrow canyon. The race finishes by taking runners down a rock strewn switch back road in Pritchet Canyon. Runners ride buses back to the starting line where their cars are parked.

The following year, I went back to run Red Hot wanting to improve my time and enjoy the challenge and beauty of the course. I had convinced J$ to come along. The week leading up to the race was not kind to me. I was vomiting. The Friday before the race, I felt much better, but was not at the top of my game and decided to drop to the 25k distance at packet pick up. The 25k is the first 2 miles and last 16 miles of the 50k.

Race morning was incredibly windy and greeted us with blown over port-o-potties. Out on the course we were saved from the wind while down in the canyons, but up on top at Gold Bar it was howling. J$ and I made it well before the cut off and began the descent.

You have to pay attention on the slick rock because you have to pick up your feet despite descending at a steep grade. I caught my toe and rolled ten feet down the rock face. The fall scared J$ more than it did me. I rolled right up onto my feet, and he started looking me up and down checking for damage, but I was ready to move. I laughed, said I was fine pushing away his hands, and we continued the descent. Fair warning to those captivated by the beauty of red rock cliffs, you have to keep your eyes on the trail.

After the climb to Gold Bar, the descent, and roller coaster sand dunes, Jeff asked, “Does it ever level out?”

“Yes, there is about a three mile dirt road coming up I swear.”

We kept running and Jeff became convinced the flat road was an illusion. “You must have been hallucinating. Were their unicorns on this flat road?”

Six years later, I’d like to think that I am in much better condition and could crush my eight hour finish on the 50k course from 2009. Red Hot may have to go to the top of the list for 2016, perfect way to open the season.

A Vigil for Justice: Episode Twenty-Nine


A Vigil for Justice, is a serial thriller fiction novel. Updates of 1,000-1,500 words will be posted every Friday.

Recap: Sixteen-year-old Melanie Craig and her family live in the small Colorado mountain town of Blue River. Since the end of World War Three, the economy in the United States has dropped out making funding law enforcement impossible and increasing crime rates in all, but the smallest towns. The government passes a Law allowing anyone over 16 to kill three other people during their life. Vigilante justice doesn’t seem like the right solution to Melanie, but she has no choice other than to learn how to protect herself and her family.

Eric drove like a madman, squealing tires at every corner and blowing through traffic lights hammering on the horn.

Melanie held firm pressure on her mother’s stomach. The blood was seeping between her fingers. “Hold on mom.”

Eric threw a glance back at her. He was hard to read, his expression stoic. She didn’t know if she should be saying goodbye to her mom or if it was going to be all right. She didn’t want to ask.

They bumped over something.

“What was that?” Melanie asked her heart racing.

“We’re almost there,” he said as he turned his face forward.

He pulled the hummer up to the ambulance entrance hitting the horn twice and then jumping out. Three men in blue and red scrubs came dashing out with a gurney as Eric pulled open the backdoor. “She’s been shot in the stomach.”

The men pulled while Melanie pushed her mom out of the back seat. Jennifer groaned and her eyes fluttered as she slid onto the white sheet on the gurney. Melanie followed them inside with Eric a few steps behind her on the phone. She only caught a few words he was saying, “Jennifer…. shot….I don’t know…. Doctors took her.” Melanie stopped listening to him and focused on her mom’s now pale features.

They pushed the gurney down the hallway. Hospitals all smell the same. Everyone in the hall stepped aside to let them through. A doctor in a flapping white smock jogged to catch up to them.

“O.R. four,” he said.

They pushed through heavy metal doors and the man in red scrubs turned and stopped Melanie from entering.

“You have to wait out here. Your mom?” he paused bending down to look directly into her down cast eyes.

Melanie nodded her head.

He continued, “She is in good hands. Dr. Johns is our best surgeon. We’ll come talk with you as soon as she is out of surgery.”

Melanie didn’t move. She stared at the pale grey doors. He touched her arm and she jerked, and turned to look at him.

“My name’s James. How about you come back out to the lobby with me? You can get some hot chocolate and sit down. Are you hungry? I’m sure I can find something for you to eat.”

Melanie nodded slowly. She barely registered his gentle hand on her back as he led her back down the hall and planted her in a chair. A few minutes later, he brought her some crackers and hot chocolate. She wrapped her hands around the warm Styrofoam cup.

Memories of her father’s funeral drifted through her mind, his pale grey visage lying there in the ivory casket. Her mom had told her not to go in during the viewing, but she had to see him one last time. All the warmth of his skin had been left on the frozen mountain where the rescuers had found his body.

After a while, James left her and she was alone in the small lobby outside the operating rooms floating between the past and the present. She couldn’t lose her mom. Not now, how would she take care of Sam and where would they go?

She didn’t know how long she sat there. When she came out of the fog of memories, Eric was sitting next to her reading a Men’s Health Magazine. He flipped a page.

“What’s taking so long?” she whispered.

He closed the magazine and set it on the chair next on him.

The metal doors open and Melanie sprang to her feet, dropping the Ritz crackers that were in her lap onto the linoleum floor. She looked down at them.

“I’m Dr. Johns,” a man held out his hand to her.

She looked up at him. His walnut hair was peppered with grey. He gave her a small smile and then dropped his hand to his side. He was dressed in black slacks and a dress shirt. She could smell his spicy aftershave. “Melanie Craig right?”

She nodded.

“Your mom asked for you.”

Melanie grabbed his hand. “She’s Ok?”

He nodded. “She will be, but we are going to need to keep her here for a few weeks.”

“Can I see her?”

“We are moving her into a room. Once we have her set up, I’ll send a nurse out to take you to see her.”

“Thank you.”

The doctor eyed Eric before leaving them.

Melanie sank into the chair. She laughed a little and exhaled audibly.

“Is Karalynn coming?” Melanie asked and then remembering the crackers on the floor picked them up and opened them. She shoved three into her mouth. She held the package out to Eric.

He shook his head. “She doesn’t want to bring your sister until she knows your mom’s condition. She thought it would be better to not tell Sam until we had some idea about what would happen.”

Melanie shoved more crackers into her mouth.

Eric handed her a bottle of water. She grinned at him. He smiled and got to his feet. “I’ll go call Mrs. Christopoulos and let them know the good news.”

Melanie unscrewed the cap on the water. Dried blood was caked in the creases of her knuckles.

Melanie sat picking the darkened blood from beneath her nails. She glanced up. An older woman with a slight hunch in her back and a long white doctor’s smock met her eyes. She pushed her violet glasses up on the bridge of her nose. Melanie stood, but then the woman turned down another hallway.

Melanie paced from one end of the lobby to the other.

James reappeared after Melanie had made two laps across the room.

“Your mom is waiting for you,” he said.

A hanging lantern lamp in the corner of the room provided a dim glow in the room. She approached the edge of the bed. The head of the bed was slightly elevated. The color still had not returned to her mother’s face. A light green blanket covered her mom. Melanie sat in the chair next to the bed, and Jennifer pulled her hand from beneath the covers and rested it on her daughter’s.

Her mom’s hand was cold. Melanie wrapped it in her own.

“I love you mom.”

“I love you too Mel.”

She held her mother’s hand while she drifted off to sleep.

The Bike Shop…

I don’t know about anyone else, but buying a new bike for triathlon’s and cycling events is a little intimidating. There is so much to know about bikes and they’re expensive so you really want to make an informed decision. Gadget Gnome to the rescue!

Gadget Gnome likes to work odd jobs by night (he’s a computer programmer by day). One of these jobs was at a bike shop. Gadget Gnome also cycles a lot and volunteers for one of the local bicycling clubs.

Gadget Gnome sent me a list of information about bikes to help me understand and evaluate them at the shops, to ask smart questions, and not be taken in by clever sales people.

The one thing I would add to this information is to ride the bike. Frames have different lengths and different stiffness. You need something you are comfortable on for whatever type of riding you do.


Buying a bike is like buying a car. Knowing what you want to do with it and how much you want to pay is a good starting point. You can pay a full range of prices for each type of bike.

Some people say, spend more money on the bike parts that touch your body, this will make biking more comfortable. This means seat, shoes and handle bar.

Basically, when you buy a bike, it will not fill all of your requirements.  Buy a bike that fill most requirements and upgrade anything that could hurt you when you buy.. Ride the bike, If the other items continue to not perform as needed, then upgrade that part.

Parts of a bike that you may need to upgrade when you buy are: seat, may be stem and maybe handle bar.



The fit that I help people with could be called a comfort fit. This just makes that bike so that it does not hurt the rider.

There are performance fits. They will measure certain bones in your body and set the bike up for that. They will measure your feet to set the pedals. You need to have the specific seat and shoes you are going to wear to do this.

A performance fit may cost hundreds of dollars. They may change parts of the bike, this will cost you additional money. They may change the crank length, the handle bar width and drop.

In all cases, a fit is just the starting point. You will adjust yourself from that.



A TT Bike (time trial bike) is a form of bike racing. When you ride, you are the only one on the track. This makes it just like a Tri bike because you cannot draft. Bike racing has a lot more rules than Tri’s.  Tri rules just want the power to be human without technical help, TT hast rules like how close the seat can be to the handle bar.

The frame on a TT/TRI bike are the same. They are different than a road bike. Basically the part of the bike that goes from your feet to the seat is closer to vertical on a TT/TRI.

A TT/TRI bike does not shift and brake with your hands in the same place. You shift with hands on the aero bar, you brake with your hands on the handle bar. To me this makes the bike not useful for riding on city roads, your hands are not on the brakes so an emergency stop does not happen. You cannot ride with groups because your hands are not on the brakes.

A road bike with aero bars is not quite the same as a TT/TRI. Basically the seat is farther back than the TT/TRI and the shift is with the brake, not on the aero bar. The road bike with aero bars is not quite as comfortable as a TT/TRI.



At this level of bike, there will probably not be triples. They are primarily for lower cost bikes.

Compact is a short term for double compact.

A double is geared very high. This is setup for top end to ride 30+ mph or higher. It is not geared for hills. A compact is geared for a lower top end, 30 mph or lower. It also has lower end gears for hills. These speeds are approximate. For a flat section of the tour de France, the average speed is 25 to 30 mph.

It was common request to convert a double to a compact. For this level of bike, it will cost hundreds of dollars.

When looking at a bike, you can sometimes tell the difference between a double and a compact. Looking at the difference in size between the two gears on the front. A compact has gears closer to the same size, a double has a larger difference between the two gears.

There is not a specific size associated with double or compact. They each are simply a range.



The cassette is the gears on the rear wheel. They are replaceable/changeable. In this case the smaller the gears are the faster gears. There are big cassettes and small cassettes. The cassette has less effect than the front rings.

The number of rings on a cassette defines “speed”. It is common to have a 9 speed or 10 speed on road bikes. The shifter on the handle bar must match the cassette.



The wheels on a bike have the most effect from weight. An ounce saved on the wheels has much more effect than an ounce on the frame, they basically move more than any other part of the bike.

At this level of bike, you may run into Tubular wheels/tires. You do not want these. If you get a flat, it will cost $75 to repair. Basically, the tube is sewn into the tire, and then glued to the rim. You can save money by sewing the tube in the tire for repair. They are smaller and lighter than clinchers. They are blown up to 160 psi.  They will not get pinch flats. They can handle corners at 50 mph better than a clincher.

Clincher is what you want. It is the normal wheel and tire.

Tire sizes effect several areas. A tire size of 20 or 23 is probably a good choice for you. Larger tires are less prone to getting flats. Smaller tires run faster. Tour de France riders probably use an 18 or 20.



Bikes in shops do not come with pedals.

The active part of speed play is on the shoe. Just walking around, you can cause problems with the functionality of the pedal. This means that you cannot walk in mud or gravely areas. It is hard to walk with these, like going into a store. You can get plastic covers for the part on the shoe.

Pedals have attributes more than just holding the shoe on the bike. They can be adjusted for how much pressure and how far they need to be moved to the side before they disconnect. For you, you can use the easier settings. Some times this adjustment is which parts you use, other pedals are adjusted with a screw setting.

There is also a concept of play, There are other terms for this. Not everyone has their feet straight in from of them, they need a slight angle for normal setting. Different pedals use different ways to deal with this.



You will primarily see Shimano parts. You may run into Sram and Campagnola.

Campagnola is high-end parts. It was popular before Shimano. They have repair parts for almost all models, unlike the others that you just replace the entire part. To work Campagnola, you have to have special parts, like the brake cable is different than others.

Sram has a full range of costs. They work slightly different from others in that they only have one lever to shift, you push it part way to go up and fully to go down a gear.

Dura Ace is Shimano’s top of the line. To me it is in the financial diminishing returns. Costs more but only a small amount of improvement, it is lighter. Priced right, I would buy it.

Ultegra is Shimano’s second from top. Most of my friends in the bike club use this.

105 is Shimano’s third from the top.  This is sometimes called the lowest level that is fully functional.

Tiagra is Shimano’s fourth from the top. This has recently started being very good, possibly starting to be fully functional. You will not find this on better bikes.

Sora is Shimano’s fifth from the top.

There are builds that use several different component levels. This is done to make a price point. Usually the shifter is the lower level, the other components are higher.

The parts on the handle bar are probably the most expensive part, then the crank and front gears, then the rear derailleur, then the front derailleur.

A bike is built from: a frame, a build kit, and then the other misc parts. The build kit includes all the shifting components, chain, and sometimes the wheels.



Most manufactures make bikes specifically for women.

Some women do not want a pink bike with flowers on it. They buy a regular bike.

High-end bikes do not have women’s bikes.

Bikes need to fit your body, the women’s bike is simply a bike that would be modified for a women’s size body. This gets into statistically relevant differences between men and women. This, of course, does not apply to a specific person. Women tend to have longer leg and shorter torsos, have narrower shoulders, smaller hands, and wider hips.



There are parts on a bike that may be changed, so that a bike fits you.

Some Brakes can have a wedge put in them that makes them fit smaller hands. This requires a better setup to work. These wedges are primarily for higher end brake handles. They can be added later for those brakes that are capable.

Brakes can be put on different parts of the round part of the handle bar that will allow your hand to squeeze the brake handle.

The stem, the small part that goes from the handle bar to the top of the fork, is very often changed. Sometimes this is done at time of purchase, and the old part will be credited at some value for the new one. Sometimes there is a pile of pulled off stems that may have one that will work for you. Stems have both a length and an angle.

Handlebars have a width and a drop. You want them about the width of you shoulder. For shorter people, you do not want it to drop down very far.

Then crank (what the pedals attach to) have different length. This is rare to change. A small size bike will come with short arms; a large size bike will come with long arms.




Carbon fiber is very strong for even pressure. It is very poor for point source pressure. What this means, is that if a bike slides down the road on its side, it just scratches it. If a bike hits a telephone pole from the side, it can be compromised. This is very hard to evaluate.

When a bike goes down, it usually scratches in several places. The rear derailleur, the shifters on the handle bar, the handle bar in general, and the seat.

Check the rear derailleur be looking from the back of the bike and verify that the derailleur is absolutely vertical. This is sometimes hard to do because the spokes are at an angle. Scratches on the shifters and handle bar are not an issue.  Ride the bike to make sure the shifters are not compromised.

Check the crank/bottom bracket. Hold onto the crank (the arms that the pedal is attached to). Pull and push, fairly hard, at an angle from the side. There should be no play at all, there should be no clicking. Note that the bike may flex, this is OK.

Check the chain. A simple tool, about 10-15 dollars will do this for you. If it OK, this usually mean a low mileage bike, or a well maintained bike.

Check all the gears. Make sure that the dips are symmetrical. You must feel with your finger.

Ride the bike, make sure it shifts (thru all gears). Make sure the brakes are smooth.

Spin the wheels. Make sure they do not jiggle. If they jiggle, this can mean a bent rim.


Metal mouth

metal mouth

So, I have a confession to make, I have not been doing my speed work, but I jumped back on the bandwagon this last week.

While I was running my 800s, I began to taste iron or a metallic taste, like I had blood in my mouth. I’ve never noticed this before during speed work, so I decided to look into it.

What I discovered was, doctors don’t know why this happens in runners, but it is not uncommon. There are many reasons for it and some hypothesis.

First, is that there could be an infection in your glands that produce saliva. Physical activity and heavy breathing can increase saliva production and then the infection can get into your mouth. Sorry, kinda gross.

Second, is there could be tooth decay.

I am able to rule out those two as possible causes. Let’s see what else is on the list.

Tiny cracks in the lining of your throat and nose can cause this if you are running in cold, dry air. Especially at higher altitude. This is a likely suspect in my case, but there are still more options.

There are research studies that show that intense exercise increases the pressure on the lungs allowing red blood cells to leak into air sacs. This is only temporary and shouldn’t cause concern for runners.

The last possibility is a mild pulmonary edema, which causes fluid to leak into the space between the air sacs and capillaries in your lungs. Gerald Zavorsky, PhD, associate health and sport sciences at the University of Louisville says that this is what happens in most runners. The fluid that is leaked can contain a small amount of blood, which causes the metallic taste.

Pulmonary edema sounds really bad. My understanding (not a doctor) is that what happens is your left ventricle in your heart is not able to pump the blood out of the heart at the same rate as the right ventricle pumps it into the lungs (to pick up oxygen), this causes fluid accumulation in the lungs and is referred to as pulmonary edema.  If your only symptom is the taste of metal in your mouth and things return to normal once you have rested, then you are fine but may want to slow the pace a bit and let your body have time to adjust to the new intensity. If you have other symptoms, shortness of breath, swelling of feet or ankles, a change in mental state then you need to consult your doctor.

A Vigil for Justice: Episode Twenty-Eight


A Vigil for Justice, is a serial thriller fiction novel. Updates of 1,000-1,500 words will be posted every Friday.

Recap: Sixteen-year-old Melanie Craig and her family live in the small Colorado mountain town of Blue River. Since the end of World War Three, the economy in the United States has dropped out making funding law enforcement impossible and increasing crime rates in all, but the smallest towns. The government passes a Law allowing anyone over 16 to kill three other people during their life. Vigilante justice doesn’t seem like the right solution to Melanie, but she has no choice other than to learn how to protect herself and her family.

The next morning Melanie spent an hour trying to convince her mother to stay at Karalynn’s and let her, Mitchel, and Seth go get new shoes for Sam.

“Everything will be fine Melanie. Your sister’s toes are pressing through her shoes. She needs new ones.” Jennifer said smiling and shaking her head. “Your dad and I lived in Denver before Blue River, I know my way around. I’ll be there and back in a few hours.”

Melanie paced the length of their shared bedroom. “I’m coming with you.”

“You don’t need to, Karalynn said that one of her body guards would go with me.”

Melanie stopped and put her hands on her hips. “I’m going.”

Jennifer shrugged.

Mitchel stuck his head in the room, eyebrows raised, and lips pursed.

“Um, Seth and I are going into the city for extra ammunition for the shot guns. Do you need anything Mel?”

Melanie took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. Why did they all insist on going out on the streets? Was she being paranoid or unreasonable? She recalled the men with guns walking the streets last night, the gate that had been installed, and the boarded up windows of the house. No, she was not being overly cautious. They were being reckless.

She tried to smile at Mitchel. “Yes, a couple of boxes of shot gun ammo would be great and an extra magazine for my nine.”

“No problem, we’ll be back in a bit,” Mitchel said and ducked quickly out of the room.

Her mother looked at her with a smirk. “See they can’t go with you to get shoes.”

“Shoes, that’s all we’re getting?”

“I don’t know Melanie,” Jennifer rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.

The bodyguard, Eric, lead Melanie and Jennifer into the garage. He pulled a black bulletproof vest over his head and fastened the Velcro around his broad chest. He slid a revolver into the holster on his hip and two knives into the pockets of his cargo pants. A spare magazine went into the other pocket. The three of them climbed into the silver hummer. Eric turned the key and the hummer rumbled to life.

Melanie adjusted her holster and checked her spare magazine.

They backed out of the driveway. Melanie squinted as the sun shot through the tinted windows surrounding the back seats.

Melanie could almost convince herself that nothing had changed and the suburbs were a safe and welcoming place. She could envision children running in the street playing hiding go seek and Frisbee. She blinked and it was all gone. They had reached the outskirts of the city.

It started with broken windows and the deeper they went into the city the more rubble lined the streets. Wooden fences laid flat upon the ground or at odd angles splintered and jagged.

Buildings were crumbling as if a bomb had gone off inside. Stone and lumber was piled up in heap Scrawny, dirty children, climbed and dug through the debris occasionally shoving objects into the pockets and bags slung over their shoulders.

Melanie leaned forward between the front seats. “What are they digging for?”

Eric glanced out the window. “Anything they think has any value, metal, medication, jewelry. When people flee they don’t take much more than what they have on. Most of this had been picked through a few times. I doubt they are finding much.”

Eric pulled into a strip mall with various types of clothing stores. He parked. “Stay in the hummer.” He slipped out of the door. Melanie watched him stalk around the hummer and survey the parking lot and the people milling about. They all had hollow looks. The adults had dark circles under their eyes and flicked their eyes from place to place.

Eric pulled open the door next to Jennifer and she got out. Melanie climbed over the seat and jumped to the ground.

Eric looked directly at every person they passed most would not meet his gaze. Melanie watched him keeping a list of questions for him once they returned to the safety of the hummer.

They entered a shoe store.

“Good Morning,” said a short plump man behind the counter.

“Good morning, I’m looking for Hello Kitty sneakers,” Jennifer said smiling.

“Isle three, toward the back,” he said pointing with stubby fingers.

Jennifer walked in the direction the man had indicated.

They found the shoes. Jennifer picked up a box with Sam’s size. She opened the box, made sure there was a right and left shoe, and that the sizes matched.

“Anything else?” Eric asked.

“I’d like to get a desert for after dinner tonight,” Jennifer said.

“I know a bakery that is nearby. Mrs. Christopoulos goes there sometimes,” Eric said.

Jennifer brightened. “Perfect.” She waved her wrist over the SAFE scanner to pay for the shoes and they walked back to the hummer.

Eric pulled open their door. Melanie put her foot on the step.

Shots rang out behind them. Melanie hit the ground and scrambled under the hummer. She turned around to grab her mom.

Jennifer was on the ground. Eric hovered over her. He was scanning their surroundings. His gun was gripped in his hand moving with his eyes. His other hand was on her mother’s stomach.

“Mom,” Melanie screeched, crawling from beneath the hummer. Rocks dug into her hands and knees.


Eric grabbed Melanie’s chin. His grey eyes bore into her. “Stop the blood.”

He grabbed her hand and pressed it against Jennifer’s stomach. Eric stood, gun at the ready.

Jennifer grimaced. “Melanie?”

“I’m right here mom. You’re fine.” Melanie’s eyes filled with tears. Jennifer’s eyes closed and her head lulled to the side.

Eric scooped Jennifer up and slid her into the back seat. Melanie climbed in with her.

“Keep pressure on it.”

“How close is the hospital?” Melanie asked.

“Not far.” Eric slammed the door of the hummer and ran around to the driver’s door.

Melanie looked down at her mom. She brushed her mom’s hair back from her face. Jennifer’s eyes fluttered open. She smiled at Melanie.

“It’s okay mom. We’re taking you to the hospital. You’ll be okay. I’m here. I won’t leave.” Melanie clenched her jaw. She fought back tears. She couldn’t lose her mom too.

I’ll only run if…

oh your not a runner

Oh if I had a dollar for every person who thinks they are hilarious when they say, “Only way you’d get me to run is if a bear were chasing me. Ha ha ha,” I would be a rich runner. You know how many times I have seen the above picture posted on Facebook with me tagged from my non-runner friends? Yeah, a lot.

But really, isn’t the “bear” chasing us all?

I interpret this saying as meaning, I will run if my life depends on it.

Well, my friend, your life does depend on it.

Running makes you a happier person. It reduces your risk of cancer and cardio vascular disease. It reduces your stress level. It increases brain activity warding off problems of dementia in later years. It increases bone strength and decreases the risk of injury to your joints.

You sleep better. You get sick less often. It lowers your blood pressure. It increases your overall energy.

It makes your days off relaxing and kicking your feet up, so much more gratifying.

Running thirty minutes five days a week will extend your life by 4-5 years. Not only does running extend your life, but it improves your quality of life.

Sure, I might be training for a marathon here, a 100 miler there, an Ironman, but really I’m training for the race for my life.

From the moment we are born, the starting gun has gone off. My goal is to run all the way into the finish line and the longer the race the better.