Monday 30 May 2011

Coffee, Cycling And Caffeine - I Love It


Cycling and coffee are like blood brothers. I love cycling and I love coffee, so whilst drinking my second coffee of the day on this rainy bank holiday afternoon, I thought I’d embrace my inner geek, calculate how much caffeine I’m pouring into my body and find out what some of the scientific community thinks about that.

These days, I’ve got into the habit of drinking 3, 300ml cafetiere/french press brewed cups each day. Despite my love for the little fellas, I’ve given up on espressos for now - at home at least. My machine is knackered thanks to limescale and neglect, and it wasn’t that great to start with.

According to the Harvard School of Public Heath, for the purposes of most studies, a cup of coffee is 227.3ml(8oz) with 100 mg of caffeine. So apparently, each of my 300ml cups contains 132mg of caffeine, making my average daily intake 396mg: equivalent to about 5 cans of Red Bull (but thankfully without the sugar) or about 8 Pro Plus tablets.

Obviously, the 100mg in an 8oz coffee is an estimation. Caffeine content varies considerably according to a number of factors including the variety of bean, roast level, temperature of water, brew temperature, length of brew time, grind level, beverage size, but this figure gives a rough idea. Our Harvard friends suggest that drinking up to six cups a day (1,363ml/4.5 of my cups) of coffee is not associated with increased risk of death from any cause. So I should be alright then... unless I got my numbers wrong or another study comes out.

If anyone actually reads this blog, I’d be interested to hear how much everyone else is drinking/consuming, if only to justify my own consumption/give me a reality check!

A Second Chance


After David Millar won the final time trial at the Giro yesterday, I was reminded of an interview I did with him as he was making his comeback in 2006. I read through the piece this morning, as I was sipping an excellent Bolivian coffee from Has Bean. I thought I'd re-post the abridged version here. Personally, I think Millar's story is a good illustration of the value of giving people a second chance and a great example of someone using it well.

(This article first appeared on Pezcyclingnews.com in 2006)

Despite the fact that he is still banned from competition, Britain’s David Millar is still very much a professional cyclist. We caught up with the Scot at his team’s first training camp in Spain and talked about his suspension, redemption and lots more...

Having recently signed with the Spanish ProTour team, Saunier Duval-Prodir, the former Tour de France yellow jersey holder is continuing his preparation for the French Grand Tour which will see his comeback. After leaving Biarritz to re-establish himself in England's Peak District, Millar has found rural life to his liking, perfect for logging the long miles before he returns to the start ramp.
Parlez vous Espanol?

Having ridden for the same French team for his entire professional career, David has made the move to a Spanish formation. The change highlighted the contrasting cultures between Saunier Duval and his former setup Cofidis. As the interview progresses, he hints at his desire for greater independence and a more mature approach to his life as a professional cyclist. “[At Saunier Duval] it’s completely different, it sounds cliché to say, but it’s chilled and relaxed, really effective, effortless professionalism. For me it’s the perfect environment. You don’t get baby-sat, they trust us”

Motivation

Returning from his two year ban, Millar is taking the modern notion of more training and a lighter competitive schedule to the extreme. In fact, none other than the Tour de France will mark his first return to racing. (Millar is able to compete after the courts backdated his ban to begin on the day he confessed, June 24th.) Could 'La Grande Boucle' be his salvation? I was interested to find out how David is staying motivated without any imminent competitive demands, until July. “It’s different than it’s had to be in the past, it was a constant pressure of racing, I’ve spent the last six months planning and I’ve got myself into a mindset now of being able to train and train and train.” In the past, David had a reputation for being fond of racing but less so of training. What changed? “It’s harder to do big training blocks when you’re racing, you’re so tired mentally” he said. “I can see now. When we used to race people would say 'how do amateurs go out on their bikes every day'. It’s actually easier than I thought it would be.”

Millar warms to his theme, appearing keen to share his fresh, more disciplined approach to preparation. “I have a structured programme leading me up to the Tour. It’s blocks of training. Kilometres for the next couple of months, then mountains, then time trial work.” Millar's former home was an stylish residence not far from the beach surrounded by idyllic training territory. Will 'Le Dandy', as he was once labelled, be able to stick it out in the North of England? “My pied à terre is going to be near Manchester, in the Peak District. Then I’ll switch between Spain for little training camps and also go with the team and train whilst they’re racing, just to break it up really. The only problem with the Peak District is the weather, it can be unpredictable and also you need a good group of Pros to train with for the level and the distance. I’ve been living in England just over a year now, it’s nice, I’m really loving it. I didn’t think I’d say that after living in France, in England everything is so much simpler. There’s a much more pragmatic way of going about things. When all the chips are down I’ll always go back to the UK. When I lost everything, that’s where I went back to regroup. I don’t have to modify my personality too much to fit in, where as in France you have to become French. I want to live abroad again just for my cycling to ride with other pros, that’s imperative. I think I’ll be back over here [in Spain] next year. I’m using this year to scout it out.”

The Comeback

Millar's very public drugs saga began when a leisurely dinner with his friend Dave Brailsford was interrupted by 'Les Stups'; the French drug squad. Despite his front-row view of Millar's fall from grace, the Performance Director of British Cycling, has provided public support, not ruling out that David may represent GB in the future. “Outside of British Cycling, he [Brailsford] was a personal friend before everything." Millar reveals. "That friendship comes first. Obviously, he’s had to distance himself professionally but that's completely normal. As soon as I’m back, I’ve paid my price and as long as they [British Cycling] stick to their guns, they’ll support me. That’s good to know.”

Speaking of friends, there’s nothing like hard times to sort the wheat from the chaff. We were interested to find out what happened to his following post suspension. “Actually, every single one of my friends stuck by me and if anything, I found more people supported me; especially in France, people who wouldn’t have come up and said hello, came up and expressed their support. I really didn’t expect that. I don’t think one person has come up and given me sh*t. They generally save that for letters. My friends and family have been enormous through it all.”

I learned that David had been working with a University in Britain, specifically as a subject at Cardiff University for a Phd study. “It was all on a King-cycle [stationary bike for power measurement]. It was hard, really hard. I came out of it shattered. It was good for me because it was in that kind of dead period in October and November and it was a dilemma as to how we would tackle it. I was basically a guinea pig.”

This was a far cry from the Millar of old, reported to have shunned heart rate monitors and power meters in favour of a traditional approach based on ‘feel’ but was this simply a caricature? “They raced me so much when I was a young pro that I’d never get more than 10 days without racing. You can’t do structured training. Cycling has changed a bit now. Training is becoming more important. I’ve got a lot more respect for it now. I’ve had to with the situation I’ve got myself into. It’s all I can do now. I do believe that if you do it all properly, you can win the biggest races without drugs.”

His thoughts on what it takes to win the biggest bike races are encouraging and, we hope, realistic. “You need the engine, you need the workload, the right trainer and be able to pick your goals properly. As you get older you get better at doing it, increasing the workload. Guys with the bigger engines have to train harder so you have to have the head to do it. For me it’s taken until I’m a bit older to be able to absorb that workload week in week out. It’s pushing through those days that you’re shattered, that's when it’s hard.”

Before his ban, David was making more regular appearances on the track. Is a return to the boards and bikes with no brakes was on the cards? “I’d like to, just for fun, maybe World Cups, I’d like to do the Team Pursuit, it’s such a cool event. I want to just enjoy it when I go back. Maybe do some track races in the winter and see what happens. I’d like to do the hour record as well and get more and more time on the boards to get the technique down. We’ve got such a great facility [at Manchester].” After being well known for his interest in clothes and fashion, a fan recently suggested he return to racing on the track before his ban expires, perhaps by donning a crafty disguise, a beard or moustache. Does the idea appeal? “No, the problem is that everybody would spot me a mile off! I’d have to change my position and everything!”

Do As I Say – Not As I Do

Before his 'mistake' David's story was an inspiration to many young cyclists; an example of someone who made the move to the continent as a teenager and graduated from the amateur ranks to enjoy a successful professional career. In light of his experience, what is his advice to young riders aspiring to pro careers? How can they avoid the pitfalls to which he succumbed? Millar’s response is emphatic. “F*@^in‚ don’t take drugs, that’s number one, you don’t need to. You can win the biggest races without drugs. I’ve done it. It’s just greed and that brief period of my life when my morals were a bit 'left field' if you like that made me do it. Secondly, it’s to understand the amount of work it’s going to take. If you’ve got a big engine and you’re super talented you’re going to have to work so hard. It doesn’t come easy even for the best of these guys. There’s a lot of suffering and a lot of time by yourself. From that first year amateur, the first four years are hard, your friends are going to be at university, you’re not going to be partying, you’re not going to be drinking, you’re going to be lonely but once a month, you’re going to have a day in a race where it makes it worthwhile. Stick at it because once you get through that, then you can come out of it and it’s all worthwhile.”

Keep an eye out for the Scot this July. Whatever his result, we hope this Millar time marks a redemptive new chapter in his turbulent tale.

Saturday 28 May 2011

"When the goal of a ride is about the experience..."


In 2005 I was living in the South of France and desperate to become a professional cyclist. My days were spent eating, riding, sleeping, counting my watts, watching my calories and, in my spare time, working for a bike touring company to fund my quest.

I often guided our North American guests on rides around the local area. They were captivated by the beauty of the region, happy to dawdle around, stop at a boulangerie, cruise through the vineyards. I couldn’t relate, lost in my world of aerobic thresholds and PowerTaps. A year later, after a series of crashes, illnesses and with the stinging realisation that I didn’t have the physical capacity to make it as a professional cyclist, I returned to university in England. To me, cycling had become a rigorous, ascetic, scientific exercise and, now it was clear that I’d never reach my goal, I had no desire to pursue it further.

I stayed in touch with what was happening in the cycling world but began to sleep in longer, enjoy an extra coffee on a Sunday morning in place of heading out for a training ride, or speeding off in the car to another non-descript amateur race. My road bike began gathering dust, tires deflating slowly as it languished in the spare room.

The variety was refreshing, but it didn’t take much to revive old memories: walking past a group of cyclists gathering on campus before a ride, watching the Tour de France. Despite this, it was the end of 2010 before I turned a pedal with any sense of purpose. This time, there was no PowerTap, no heart rate monitor, no cadence sensor. I adjusted the gears on my old 9-speed Dura-Ace and headed out for a ride. I dawdled through the lanes, took in gulps of cold winter air and let my head write a few cheques on the hills that my body was in no state to cash.

To some an over-hyped poser’s brand, to others the embodiment of epic authenticity; whatever you think of Rapha, I couldn’t agree more with their assertion that “When the goal of a ride is about the experience instead of the speed or the distance, it changes everything.”

Rapha Continental – The Movie from RAPHA on Vimeo.