Getting in shape for the spring cycling season is an annual rite of passage for me that begins on Thanksgiving Day. Amidst the preparations for celebrating with family and friends, I wander into the garage, pull the trainer out of the cabinet, and set-up the bike for what I know will be 8 to 12 weeks of indoor riding.

A lot of riders cringe at the mention of riding indoors. While it’s not my favorite way to ride a bike, I have learned to appreciate it for the quality of workout it delivers. A trainer can be dialed-in to deliver a precise training interval that isn’t possible on most roads. And, if you’re training by the numbers, it is important to take the inconsistency out of the ride, so the differences in performance are attributable to fitness and not the terrain.

Recording biometric data during my workouts on the indoor trainer has been a key part of my off-season regimen for the past three or four years. Power – measured in watts – provides the most reliable estimate of work effort and cardiovascular fitness, more so than heart rate, which varies with fatigue. Believe it or not, when you focus maintaining a specific average power during a series of intervals, it makes the time on the trainer go by more quickly. Of course, it helps to have your favorite music blasting in your ear buds.

The most useful aspect of training by the numbers is the ability to gauge your fitness at various points in time. Year-over-year comparisons are particularly helpful, because you are able to compare current performance with last year’s on the same date. If you were pleased with last year’s results, you’ll want to make sure this year’s numbers are on par. If you want to improve, you’ll want to see better numbers earlier in the season.

My own performance metrics appear on the chart at the top of this post. The first grouping of columns to the far left shows the data for my CTS Field Test taken in January 2008. The data include averages for cadence, heart rate and watts during an 8-minute interval, which was performed at 100 percent effort. The second grouping shows the same performance metrics a year later in 2009. I was able to sustain about 300 Watts during the 8-minute effort, almost 50 watts more than I’d been able to average during the 2008 test.

The increase could only be the result of two things: I had begun interval training indoors three months earlier on Thanksgiving Day; and for the first time, I had maintained endurance-fitness through the winter by riding at least one 200K each month. My inspiration for doing that was to earn the R-12 Medal from Randonneurs USA, and the Larry Schwartz Award from the Ultramarathon Cycling Association.

While 2009 may have been the best cycling season of my life, the opportunity cost was too high. The fact is that as a recreational rider, I need time away from the bike to keep my life in balance. Not only that, time spent doing other things renews my appreciation for riding.

This past fall and winter, I returned to my usual practice of renewal by getting off the bike and indulging in things that I love to do with my wife, like hiking and kayaking the rivers and bays of Tillamook County, taking in plays at the Shakespeare Festival in Ashland, traveling to incredible locations like the Maryhill Winery in the Columbia Gorge, or staying inside all weekend with an entire season of Mad Men on DVD. All of these things are important to me because relationships enrich my life. It was something I’d lost in 2009, but something I am finding it easy to regain in 2010.

When Thanksgiving came around three months ago  I knew it was time to begin the training. I cringed at the thought of submitting to a CTS Field Test. My critical power output averaged just 235 watts, 65 watts below the point where I hoped to be at the end of February. And so the work began, but this time, without the drudgery of the long, lonely rides I had come to equate with success in endurance cycling.

With my next field test scheduled for the end of the first week of March, I am within 16 watts of last year’s average power metric. I don’t know that I will be able to match that, but I know that I was strong enough to solo 102 miles across the Oregon Coast Range last weekend in about 6 hours, and spend the next day hiking with my wife through the site of The Lost City on Tillamook Bay.

A ride like that isn’t going to earn me any medals. But seriously, does it really matter?

One of my goals this year has been to ride across the Oregon Coast Range on the Old Toll Road. It was a goal last year, too. Now that I think about it, it was a goal the year before that. I’m not lazy. And I don’t put things off, at least not the things that really inspire me. In its own way, riding the Old Toll Road is a BHAG – a big hairy audacious goal – and you don’t knock down BHAG’s in one shot. You chunk them down into small pieces you can handle.

For nearly a year, preparing for Race Across Oregon gave me an important objective. The thought of racing terrified me, but it also motivated me. Speed intervals, hill repeats, endurance training, RAO gave meaning to it all.

I reached for RAO knowing it lay well outside my comfort zone. Completing it made my comfort zone bigger. My second place finish in the men’s 50-59 Division qualified me to enter the Race Across America. What seemed unimaginable before RAO has become an opportunity that I must now reckon with.

Memories of RAO: from Maupin to Cooper Spur Ski Resort and the finish.

The descent into Dufur on US 197 from the summit of Tygh Ridge is eight miles long and straight as an arrow. It’s a welcome payback for the 7-mile climb up here from Tygh Valley. When I’ve ridden this section before, I usually sit-up, eat, drink, and enjoy the glide off the mountain.

But tonight, after 44 hours on the bike without sleep, the monotony of this road was causing me to doze. I had taken a caffeine pill about an hour earlier, near the bottom of the climb. That, and the lightning strikes along the north ridge, was enough to keep me awake while I was climbing.

I must have been doing close to 30 miles an hour on this descent because I was close to spinning out. I fought the urge to sleep. Every few minutes I would blackout, then snap-back. There was no traffic to speak of, so I steered the bike to the center of the slow lane and focused to keep it there.

Memories of RAO: from Spray to Maupin and Time Station 6.

My pace van rolled up along-side me. The passenger window was down. Justin was driving and leaning across to yell.

“Do you want the good news or the bad news?”

“Give me the good news,” I shouted back.

“Eric is right behind us,” he said.

That wasn’t good news.  I looked over my shoulder. Eric was coming down the road like a locomotive with a full head of steam.

In another moment, he was riding with me.

“Hey man,” he said. He was smiling but the lines in his face showed he was worried. “It’s gonna be close.”