Getting my bearings

I've been complaining for some time about my slowness, especially while riding my bike to and from work. My average speeds over my 6 to 7-mile commute have been going down steadily for many months, finally bottoming out at between 10 and 12 mph. And it wasn't just the averages that were suffering; I was absolutely unable to get above 15 mph on flat ground and even the slightest incline had me out of the saddle. Sure, I'm diabetic and my lungs are still not 100% but criminy, if I went any slower, I'd have to go into a track stand.

It all came to a head earlier this week as I came across my imagined nemesis on the de Anza Trail. He's a fairly big guy - I suspect a bit heavier than I am - riding a singlespeed mountain bike. He passed me once a couple of weeks ago like I was going backwards. I was on my drops in a headwind, working hard, and he just motored right by with his fat tires and flat bars, his upright torso happily pushing against the stiff headwinds. I tried to turn up the wick and get on his wheel but he just pulled away (and remember, he probably wasn't even trying to drop me). The second time I saw him, he was zipping by the bike path by my office just as I was leaving work. With as fresh a set of legs as I was going to have, I stood on my pedals to try and catch up with him. Once again, and despite my likely weight advantage, multiple gears, skinny tires, etc., all I could do was just watch him go. I'm not a competitive cyclist (though I'm a very occasional Cat. 6 racer), but having taken some fast (as a singlespeeding Clydesdale myself) laps at the 24 hour race a few years ago (and 40 or 50 pounds heavier, I might add), I knew I should have been capable of at least attempting to close the gap.

I rode home, cursing my aching quads, my lingering lung issues, and the spring headwinds, all while going over the numbers in my head. My lung capacity is only down a little bit, and the issues are only in one of my lungs. There are other diabeteics that race competitively, so that couldn't entirely explain it, either. So why was I down so far in terms of what I thought should be my average speed?

I was also thinking about the two, 10-mile mountain bike rides I took over the past weekend. I felt no particular weakness and actually thought I was moving along pretty smartly. I quit both rides due to boredom rather than tiredness. Moreover, even with all of their high-speed inefficiencies (knobby tires, wide bars, heavier overall), riding those 29er mountain bikes home on a paved stretch that overlaps with one of my commuting routes saw me riding as fast as (or faster than) on my commuting bike. I rode my singlespeed a few weeks ago and didn't remember struggling with it, either.

My commuting bike is a late 1980s-era Trek 1400 road bike. It's relatively lightweight, has decent tires, and fits me well. But, since it's for utility and not sport, it doesn't get much maintenance. If the tires are full and the light batteries are charged, it's good to go. After my contemplative ride home and a post-dinner hike - with my leg muscles protesting all the way - I decided to check out the bike. Could I be dragging a brake pad? That's what I always used to think when I was a beginner struggling to climb on my first mountain bike. It was also never the case. At any rate, I lifted my commuter up by the saddle and turned the cranks by hand.

The word for what I felt was "molasses".

I knew the chain was dirty and the derailleur pulleys a bit gooey, but there was an enormous amount of resistance when turning the cranks forward. Also, the wheel didn't exactly turn for very long when I spun it around by itself. I also suspected that the bike's old, square taper bottom bracket might have been worn out.

Having seen the sad state of my commuting bike, I formed a hypothesis that my low speeds were the result of excessively high coefficients of friction within the drivetrain, and not some supposed loss of strength. To test this, I dragged out my "real" road bike for the next day's ride to work. To be sure, it would be potentially faster right out of the gate by virtue of being much lighter than the commuter. On the other hand, both bikes wear the same tires and they're kept at the same pressure (25c Continental Gatorskins at 90psi). The fast bike also has a slightly more-upright seating position than the commuter, possibly negating any increase in speed. There was also the fact that I was dog tired, having ridden the slow bike all week, putting in extra miles every day despite it.

My experiment proved my hypothesis.

I took my longest typical morning route to work and was stoked to see I was going 3 to 5mph faster everywhere, and my average speed upon arrival at the office was 2 or 3 mph higher than the week's prior personal record (aka my personal worst). Admittedly, I was hammering to keep the speeds up but even that was probably still tempered by my fatigue. So yes, my lack-of-speed problem likely was coming from my commuter bike's drivetrain.

I put the old bike up on a workstand this morning and pulled the rear wheel. Surprisingly, the bottom bracket was spinning freely but the rear hub was halfway seized. I overhauled the hub, repacking it with fresh grease and adjusting it to the best combination of spin and lack of bearing play I could get. My next experiment will be to ride it to work next week and see how my average speeds compare to what I was able to do on my faster bike.

So, long story short, I didn't need a team of physicians to fix this for me, I just needed to take care of my damned bike. And yeah, it's embarrassing to admit that my lackadaisical bike maintenance (if not deliberate non-maintenance) was the root of most of my problems. Of course, no miles are bad miles, and I'll be viewing all of this badly-impeded commuting as "resistance training". Oh, and I still do need my doctors because, while I've likely sped things up a bit, I'm by no means healed. I'm just relieved than I'm not as unwell as I thought.

Nice!

I'm just wrapping up a 3-day weekend here in the Old Pueblo and it was pretty nice. I woke up with my lungs feeling relatively good on Friday, so I took my trail bike out for some circuits at the little regional park near my house. I ended up putting in a little over 10 miles on the bike and, after I got home, I covered some more ground walking the dogs. It rained a bit on Saturday, but I still got in some weight lifting, another dog walk, and a solo hike. Today, I wandered all over the bike swap and got a ganga deal on some new tires, came home, and walked the dogs again. I then fixed a flat and replaced the front disk brake pads on my hardtail before taking it out for another little 10-miler at the park. One last dog walk ended the day about a half-hour ago. Did I mention that the weather was perfect during all of this? Yeah, just plain nice.