“In the factory, we make cosmetics; in the store, we sell hope.” - Charles Revson, founder, Revlon

I concluded recently that there is a lot of hope being sold in the cycling business when I abandoned some of mine. I have come to terms with the fact that I will never need the top gear (53 x 11) spec-ed on my Trek Equinox TTX. And, unless their nickname is “colossal quads”, I question how many triathletes really need this intra planetary, over-drive, 126.6 inch top gear. ( See Sheldon Brown’s Gear Calculator for an explanation of gear inches.) There are no sprint bonuses in the Ironman and there is that activity called the run which usually follows the biking portion of the race.

Wouldn’t most triathletes be better served giving up the 11 cog and adding a easier granny or bailout gear? I think so and did last year when I added the largest cog that Shimano makes for a 10 speed (a 12 X 27) just before Ironman Wisconsin. (It’s So Easy Having An Enormous Cog) But is that the best way? I don’t think it is.

Compact cranks, which have smaller chain rings (e.g. 50/34) and a smaller spider hole pattern (110mm versus 130mm) offer another way to get some easier gears by giving up a hard one. There is an excellent analysis of the gearing options available with a compact in this Slowtwitch article.

To summarize, a 53/39 chain ring with a 12×27 cassette provides about the same gearing as a compact crank with a 50/34 with an 11×23 cassette. The compact gives you a slightly taller top gear, you can think of it as a 53 chain ring with an 11 2/3 cog if it makes you feel better, and the basically same size granny gear. The gear spacing with the 11×23 + compact crank is more even than spacing with a 12×27 and, all things being equal, it will be a little lighter.

By themselves these small advantages probably aren’t enough to justify buying a compact cranks . So how come I own a new one? Because I can see the day coming when I’ll need BOTH compact cranks AND a large cog. Despite it’s real world advantages, I don’t expect to see compact cranks spec-ed on the TTX any time soon; reality doesn’t sell.

You know you’re old when you’re assigned to the “seniors’ wave” at the swim start of the Eagleman 70.3 triathlon. (Or when your blog title references a song popular in 1976.) These ’seasoned athletes’ (M55+, W50+) got to start just 5 minutes after the first pros’ wave. And they got a huge 10 minutes lead on the following wave of whipper-snappers. And they got their own jet ski (4-stroke!) to lead the wave round the course. And the water was mill pond flat for this wet suit swim. And if that’s not enough to have you itching to age up, imagine a swim start free of the usual 200 yards of water-boarding instigated by those with broad shoulders and slow run splits. You’d have to be a stone with arms to swim 35 minutes with help like this, which is what I did. But I was happy because, since no one has combined swim goggles and reading glasses, I mis-read my watch and thought I’d had a :30 swim. I’ve swum :30 before, but less and less often since race directors began using GPS to measure the courses.

A secondary benefit of the seniors’ wave is an empty bike course. The pros are long gone and I biked alone with no one in sight for much of the course. I pretended I was Wolfgang Dietrich, the man who has spent more time in the lead of the Hawaii Ironman than any other, but never at the end. We have that in common. I was passed by a few of the young guys from later waves, but I was the first one to ‘represent’ the seniors’ wave when I started the run.

You know what’s important to have as you age into the seniors’ wave? Younger friends and training partners. And someone who is both, John Wilson, was racing behind me, having started in a wave later mine. Since he’s a good friend, I really didn’t want him to catch me on the run, as in, “I’m here with you but I’m really 10 minutes ahead of you”. Ouch! It was hot on the run, my heart rate was right where I wanted it and I still couldn’t read my watch; so I thought I was smoking the run. I wasn’t but neither was anyone else.

I won the M55-59 age group and guess who won the M50-54? Check out the photo! The winner is my friend and training partner John Wilson who I was intent on avoiding on the course. If you don’t know us, guess who’s 50 and who’s 55. HA! It’s hard for spectators too, who say “way to go, first gray-haired fininsher!”. I know, the lighting is bad in the photo, there’s a row of port-a-potties in the background and we appear to be holding chicken heads. But imagine what it would be like for you to win your AG and have the person you spend more training time with than anyone else also win. Well, it’s cooler than that and I realized that all this getting older and slower isn’t all that bad.

Eagleman Tip:

If you’re driving north after the race and crave a cheeseburger and fries, here’s the spot, in Bear DE. The Charcoal Pit. 10 oz. of angus beef, fries,and yep, we ordered fried onion rings too.

Another spring a long time ago, I traveled from home in snowy New England to a different triathlon in the sport’s Mecca, southern California. As I pulled on my wetsuit for the first time that year, one of the natives looked at my pale winter skin and asked,
“Dude, do most of your training at night?”

Ouch! This spring I spent the week before the Ford Ironman 70.3 California on vacation in the Virgin Islands working on my tan. I was brown when I toed the race’s starting line, but wondered if I’d feel the effects of spending 7 nights on an island where rum is cheaper than tonic. I was not to find out.

The swim wasn’t as cold as I’d expected, and I’ll give a shameless plug for team sponsor Blueseventy’s neoprene skull cap, these things work. Hey, how about this action shot?
And check out the guns and the tan as I’m justing starting the bike portion of the race.

And here’s a picture of my bike after 10 minutes of biking.
Crash! Not only did I bust the bike, bend a race wheel and DNF, all for the first time, but I left some vacation tan on the road. Ouch indeed.

Ironman Wisconsin tip #1: eat at Mickies. As in Mickies Diary Bar, located right across from Camp Randall Stadium at 1511 Monroe St. Check out the run course after eating, it’s right there.The outside is plain, it’s not the sort of place that needs flash to pack them in.

The inside is classic dinner, red vinyl swivel stools bolted to the floor and booths, straight out of the early 1950’s. They even have the original 50’s menu and prices posted on the wall. The four of us had the breakfast special, cheese omelet, potatoes, toast, bottomless coffee. You could have a pork chop with it; but since I was racing, I had bacon. Only at Mickey’s could bacon seem to be the healthier option. There’s more than breakfast, the food is real and the people are mid-west nice. It’s a must do.

Ironman Wisconsin tip #2: drink local beer. Pre -race , I had a couple of Leinenkugel’s Oktoberfests

each night (1 1/2 beers night before the race, trying to be healthy). It’s available Aug. - Oct., and in a 12-pack - good for sharing- so look for it race week. I laid in a supply of Capital Brewery’s Fest , another seasonal beer, for post race at the recommendation of team manager Ben Harper. After 140.6 miles and 3 Fests, I was moving slower than Frank Ferrar at midnight, and my day was done. Ben, I need some 3.2% beer suggestions if you want me to throw out hats at the finish. Day after the race and awards, I re-hydrated with more than one New Glarus Brewery’s Fat Squiral and a white brat at a bar on State St. I saw during the run the day before.

Where else but Wisconsin? No place I know.

Here’s a tip: Your Trek TTX uses a mighty long rear derailleur cable. At least mine did.

I installed new cables in my bike in preparation for IM Wisconsin. It seemed like a good idea after watching (from 4 bike lengths behind, of course) my training partner, John Wilson, big ring it all the way back from Hawi in last year’s Ironman after he notice his front derailleur cable had frayed almost to the point of breaking.

Replacing the front cable is easy, just thread it through starting at the shifter. I removed the metal plate just below the front derailleur, but you don’t have to. There is a pocket behing the plate and the cable housing tucks in there, pretty neat, so the cable end pops out of the hole.

I tried the same thing on the rear derailleur cable but no shiny cable came out of the housing. I thought I’d miss-threaded. Then I saw just the tip of the cable sticking out; the housing was just as long as the cable, and this was a 2000 mm length cable. I solved the problem by cutting off 2″ of housing near the rear derailleur, it looked as if I had enough extra slack. You can see that the one derailleur housing in the picture is shorter…it’s all one piece, just push it through until there is enough coming out of the rear chain stay for a nice smooth loop behind the rear derailleur.

I ride a size small TTX, if you’re on a large, check with the mechanics, I don’t know if a 2000 mm cable will reach. Now if I could only figure out how to drop my fork out, I could change the housing. I’ll check in with Doug, the team wrench, at the race site.