FLASH-POINT BLOG ARCHIVE: Jun 2007

I just signed up for Ironman Coeur d'Alene in June 2008. That's a 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, 26.2 mile run. I have ridden 112 miles before; I have run 26.2 miles before. But those events were separated by several months, not several minutes. So I have my work cut out for me.

As I hear time and time again, the key to doing an Ironman is being strong on the bike. A marathon is more strenuous than a century ride, but if you're not feeling good at mile 1, you won't make it to mile 26. Somehow you have to be not only fast on the bike (I will be fighting the 17-hour Ironman cut-off time) but energy efficient as well. Pacing yourself for an 8-or-9-hour bike ride (if I'm lucky!) so that you feel fresh to start a marathon is no easy task.

I have one year to become an expert cyclist. Sounds doable. The main problem is that I am not a morning person, and if I expect to get all the mileage in that I need, I am going to HAVE to start doing some early morning rides. To me, 5am sounds scarier than 112 miles.

You know in those Charlie Brown cartoons where there's a little black cloud that follows Charlie around when he's having a rough day?

I feel like I've had that around me for the past week or two. Probably just general anxiety about me hitting the 7th month and only having a jogging stroller.

(It is a really sweet jogging stroller, BTW.)

That's part of it, but there's some other stuff, too. Essentially, I've been worrying about a few things quite a bit that I need to let go, and I've really been down and extra extra hard on myself lately.

(I'm always kind of hard on myself, so the extra extra part is not so good.)

I gave Wil a call to chat on Sunday as she was driving home from High Cliff 70.3 and then we finished our conversation up on Monday. It made me feel a lot better to talk to a like-minded individual about some of the dumb stuff I'm worrying about on all angles of my life. We also got talking specifically about tris and next year. She gave me some good advice.

She told me that Peter Reid gave her some advice, which, is pretty damn cool that Peter Reid is giving her advice--holy shizz! I had to interrupt her and laugh at that. Anyhow, he said that at every race, he's not trying to WIN it. He goes out and tries to do the best he can for that possible day, and if he's done that, then he wins. Of course, this is a guy who, with that philosophy and mindset, has MULTIPLE Ironman WORLD CHAMPIONSHIPS under his belt.

Maybe he's onto something.

I know I can't compare myself to others now, or even next year--that's not why I got into this sport anyways, and I need to remember that. It's the main reason why I think swimming was such a good sport for me as a little girl. You are on a team, but ultimately, you are competing against yourself. Next year will be harder than anything I've ever tried to do. The nervousness and anxiety I feel now trumps my sleepless nights worrying during my Ironman summer about 10 to 1, and I've still got 3 months to go. So I need to remember what Peter said now more than ever.

Will I win the Muncie 70.3 next year? Of course not.

Will I PR? I'd like to, but there are so many factors that I can't control.

The only thing I should worry about is what I can control...my attitude, my training (to the extent that I can control it with a few-month-old at home--it will have to be flexible and efficient), my nutrition, and my knowledge of my gear and the course. If I can keep the right mindset, I may not win the 30-34 age group, but I will win the first overall female with an 8 month old baby at home who hasn't raced in a year category.

Life's too short to sweat too much about your time anymore, I think. I had several years of age group awards at sprints and olys, and that was fun....but I feel like long course suits my personality better. Putting in the training required to pick up hardware at one of those things for me is not totally impossible (I never like to say never), but at this point in my life, would require an amount of time that I just will not have and am unwiling to create.

So I will look to the countless other rewarding aspects of triathlon besides the trinkets.

I've got a whole shelf full of those collecting dust, anyway. They're on a dresser that will soon be the baby's, and I'm not even sure where to put them. I don't want to say they don't matter anymore, because they were and are an important reminder of who I am and how far I've come, but they might just be moved to a box somewhere upstairs for now. I think now, as I'm staring a new decade in the face, I'm realizing that they are overrated.

You know, kind of like waistlines. :)

Anyway, yesterday I couldn't help notice while I was banging out 3000 yards in the pool again (hey, it's the only thing I can really do right now, so I have a feeling we'll be doing a lot of those workouts these next few weeks), that a ominous black cloud was hovering over me--literally. I stopped to fix my goggles, and the wind blew some lady's newspaper into the pool as she sipped her iced mocha. Kids ran after hats and toys. "Oh, no you don't," I thought. "I'm not done swimming yet." So I pushed off again for my last 1000. There was a guy in the lane next to me with a gatorade endurance bottle and I figured he must be some kind of triathlete. He was pretty fast, and for once I just let him go so I could focus on my own sets. He did his short sets fast and stopped, while I just went steady...the opposite of what I did for so many years...the 50 and 100 free, sprinting. I've got trinkets for those, too, I thought. I'm not even sure I know where they are.

Steady, steady, I kept going and the black cloud still hovered. On my last 100, I noticed fast guy was right around me. I decided to try and keep his pace just for fun on the last 50. I "beat" him by a stroke.

Alright, so that's the closest I can come to racing this year. Cut me some slack. I've got to appease otherwise slow Competitive Sara somehow.

Victory is often in the eye of the beholder. That's what's so great about this sport, and now more than ever, I'm learning that as I sit on the sidelines and watch this season. My first tri season in 6 years without a tri.

I might just be learning more this season than in all the other seasons, combined.

I got all gung-ho after reading reports like Jodi's. I signed up for IM Coeur d'Alene 2008.

I'm not sure if I'm excited or dumbfounded or scared out of my mind, but the button has been clicked and I'm official. My stomach is doing flips, but I think it's a good thing. And hey, this time I'll have a whole year to train instead of just 3 or so months. And, I'm hoping that the Continental US race location will enable family and friends to come along.

And now writing this has made me smile, both inside and out. I'm glad I signed up; I'm glad France wasn't a once-in-a-lifetime thing.

Here we go again...

Curly Su and the Beautiful Bike

(with my sincerest apologies to Shel Silverstein)

There once was a girl named Susanna
Who was back from a horrible ride
Through Southern Louisiana
Where her bike had broken down 8 miles in
When she spied
A beautiful Orbea Women-Specific
Bike named Diva.
And next to it was a sign that said
For Sale: $4000.
"Oh," said Susanna,
"May I have that bike?
May I please?"
And her conscience/career choice/bank account said,
"No you may not."
And Susanna said,
"But I must have the bike."
And her conscience said,
"Well, you can't have that bike,
But you can have a huge cup of frozen yogurt
With hot fudge whenever you want."
And Susanna said,
"I don't want frozen yogurt with hot fudge,
I WANT THAT BIKE--
I MUST HAVE THAT BIKE."
And her bank account said,
"Be quiet and stop complaining--
You're not going to get that bike."
And Susanna began to cry and said,
"If I don't get the bike, I'll die."
And her career choice said, "You won't die.
No triathlete has ever died yet from not getting a bike."
And Susanna felt so bad
That when she turned off the computer she went to bed,
And she couldn't eat,
And she couldn't sleep,
And her heart was broken,
And she DID die--
All because of a bike
That her conscience wouldn't buy.

(This is a good story
To read when you
Can't buy something
You really, really want.)

The Iron Kahuna joined a swim team yesterday for the first time in 25 years. And holy crap, is he tired after the maiden workout.

The move to become a member of Pacific Coast Swimming was driven by a pool shortage caused by the shuttering of the Kahuna's home pool for the summer. This has driven all the swim and water polo teams to the other nice pool in the community, leaving no empty water for the mighty Kahuna.

If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. The Kahuna has always resisted taking the masters route. He already had enough people yelling at him and giving him orders throughout the day. He didn't need to add on a coach.

But the coach is a very nice guy. The team members are welcoming. And the Kahuna is going to get wickedly fast. In the first workout, the team went around 4,000 yards in varied sets. That's about 2,000 more yards than the Kahuna has been doing on his own, and the yardage was done at a faster pace. There's nothing like a little competition to ramp up the effort.

So this will be a nice new adventure. The Kahuna will make some new friends and finish the swim legs of triathlons even farther out in front, meaning he might be passed by a few less Spandex cowboys.

Olympic swimmer and occasional triathlete (thank God there's a triathlon connection) Amanda Beard has taken off her Speedo for Playboy. It's created a little fire storm of controversy within the athletic community: does it degrade a female athlete to pose nude for a magazine?

The Iron Kahuna say no effing way. The original Olympians competed in the nude, for God sake. If the Kahuna stopped with the pizza, he would feature naked shots of himself on this very site. What do you think (not about the Kahuna posing nude, but of athletes dropping their clothes)?

Okay, not really. But, after last night's swim, I know what I would get, were I able to handle the thought of needles and the dentist-drill-slash-sewing-machine noise that radiates out of tattoo parlors.

Race numbers. I would get a race number tattooed onto my arms. Why?

Because, last night, when I was swimming at the local Lafayette, LA health club, I got approached by not 1, not 2, but 3 very attractive/buff/swimmer/triathlete guys at different times. They all wanted to know what race I had just done and how it had gone and one of them even wanted tips on triathlons.

This.never.happens.

It's not like I met the guy of my dreams and I'm going to live happily ever after, but it was still kind of fun in a flirting, casual, not-everything-has-to-be-so-damn-serious-all-the-time kind of way. I giggled like a little school girl and didn't even worry about my swim cap hair, goggle eyes, or how I looked in a bathing suit. I wasn't concerned with the lack of workout I was getting (2200 in almost an hour; not so impressive), but instead enjoyed swimming outside in the evening.

There's something magical about outdoor nighttime swimming, and yeah, getting some unexpected attention wasn't so bad either.

But you know what? It wasn't really even the attention that made me feel so good. Of course it definitely helped, but as I started actually swimming (instead of talking at the side of the pool), it wasn't the guys that were on my mind. It was the race, and the fact that I could do it, and how the race numbers are proof of the person I've become. I like that person; she's confident and happy...and it seems that when I allow that person out, other people kind of like her too.

So, race numbers? I'm not even going to try to wash them off anymore. And truth be told, I won't get a tattoo, but after my next race, I might just reapply those numbers for a few nights. I need myself to remind myself of who I can be, and hell...while I'm at it, I might as well try my luck at the local pool.

Then, maybe I would have been less disappointed when the day turned into a comedy of errors.

The main thing, and what set the tone for the rest of the race, was that I got lost on the swim. I was swimming happily along, when suddenly a kayak appears out of nowhere and politely informs me that 'honey, you're way off course.'

The problem was that the sun was right at the horizon line and I couldn't see jack shit, to put it nicely. Once getting met by the kayaks, I decided to take off my goggles, and things were better. Next time I'll know that goggles don't necessarily help. When I first started doing triathlons, I rebelled against goggles and would just swim with my eyes open...I'm thinking it might be time to go back to that philosophy.

In any case, my nice little detour cost me at least five minutes, and probably more like eight. The bummer of the whole thing is that I felt totally awesome swimming, and I think I would have had a really great time. As it was, I swam it in 36 minutes, which is actually only 2 minutes off of my Wildflower time, which was with a wetsuit...

So, I was kind of cranky getting onto the bike. I had forgotten to start my watch at the start of the race (what? me forget my watch? this is a definite departure from my usual 'type a' status), so at that point all I knew was that my swim sucked. I didn't know if I had taken 35 minutes, or 45 minutes...and so I pedaled my ass off. I've really never biked that hard, probably ever. My computer wasn't working, so I didn't know how fast I was going, so I just kept pushing harder.

But I still was passed, passed, and passed again. I think I only overtook 1 person the whole damn time and SO many people took me...even with that crap-shoot of a swim. UGH. But, I was working hard, and really biked as fast as I could, so I can't be too bummed about that. I simply have to get out on the bike more, because racing once a month just doesn't cut it for bike training. It's an amazing discovery, I know.

The only other thing of note that happened on the bike was that my chain fell off about 2 miles from the end, so I had to stop and fix it. It only took about 30 seconds, but it still just made me mad. Oh, and throughout the whole race, my bike was skipping some middle gears...it would go into the gear, and then just pop out...totally annoying, considering I just paid to get my bike tuned up last week. Don't worry, I'm going to bring it back to the store today.

And so I starting running.

Okay, you know how people always talk about the bike-run transition being so hard? I never really understood that. I always felt great running, and was just glad to get off the bike. Well, not this time. When I got off the bike and started my run, my legs just refused to move...and I realized that this was the first time I had actually biked like other people bike. I was still slow mind you, 17.2mph on the bike is nothing to brag about, but it's still fast for me (for now! I'm going to get faster!).

But the consequence is that my run was just plain hard. My legs finally loosened up around mile 2, but that was about the time when I started overheating so much that I got goosebumps. Never a good sign, ya know? So, I just slogged through the 6.2 miles, averaging just over a 10min/m, and finishing in 3:08, more than 8 minutes over my PR, and pretty much just sucking it up age-group wise. To be fair, the race was a regional qualifier for the National Age Group Championship, so it drew a really strong group of people...but still...I was (am) kind of down about it.

The bummer of the whole thing is that if my swim had gone better, I think I could have PRed, even with my bike acting up and the run being a hotter-than-hell-humidity-fest. I would have biked the same way (which was actually faster than ever before, I hate to admit), and I would have pushed myself on the run. But, because I knew my race had gone to hell, I just kind of ran it without any goals in mind. I was doing 'my best' but I wasn't pushing past that, you know?

So, I finished, and it was totally awesome having my parents around at every single transition. They took SO many pictures, and it was just great to have them at the finish line. I just can't help but be a little bummed about my performance. But, I guess I just need to remember that I signed up for the race on a whim and just did it for fun. I didn't train specifically for it, and I didn't taper or do anything else race-specific aside from eating lots of pasta the day before (which isn't really a departure from the norm, if I'm at all truthful).

So how could I expect an amazing race? I guess that because I'm still relatively new to this sport, I'm used to getting better with every event, almost without trying. Maybe it's a good thing that isn't happening anymore; it means I'm not as much of a newbie!

In any case, I should be more realistic with grade-labeling my races from now on. So the next 'A' race? Timberman 70.3 in New Hampshire on August 18. It's not that far away, I'm realizing...I'm going to make a training plan this week, and then get with the program!

Today I'm bringing my parents to Houston, where they're leaving to go to Europe for the next 2 weeks. My sister and I have the house to ourselves. PAR-TAY! (As if...I'm the lamest person in the world.) And so, tonight my parents and I are going to dinner with Greyhound and his wife...my mom and his wife (and me too, I guess) are all flutists by profession, so there should be plenty to talk about, as long as we don't start fighting and pulling out each other's hair (because flutists are known to do that).

And, for anyone who wants to see a plethora of pictures of me racing, here they are. (Click on the link below.) The quantity is almost embarrassing (and I didn't even include the bad ones!), but embarrassing in a really good way...

Indian Creek Triathlon

Today was "Bicycle John's Glendale Grand Prix" right in my home town. They closed off a few blocks to create a 1-mile loop course and had races going on all day. Most were 30-45 minutes; the elite racers went for 90 minutes.

With so many races and a short course, you could see the riders every 2 minutes so there was never a dull moment. I spent most of the time hanging out at one of the corners where the bikes came within inches of the curb. It amazes me how strong the wind from the bikers can be.

When I first heard about the race, I wanted to join it. I've done plenty of running races and triathlons but I never did a purely biking event. I assumed that since it was a small, local race (complete with kids divisions) it would be a casual, low-pressure race. Not true.

In every division I watched, there were no stragglers. There was the breakout group up from, then the peloton behind. All of my biking has been focused on building up endurance and I have no experience riding in a pack. Although I probably could have just stayed in the back, it just didn't feel like the time to try something new. I'm glad I didn't sign up.

But now I think I'd like to try some of this style of racing. I'll have to hook up with some of the bike clubs because our Tri-team doesn't ride that way (nor should they; drafting is illegal in most triathlons). I often see large packs riding laps around the Rose Bowl so that will be my first stop. It just looks so damn cool.

I had a little realization yesterday.

As tri season is in full-swing for the first time since 2001 without me, I feel like I'm missing out. I worry that I'm doing nothing but getting fatter and slower, as my friends are all getting fitter and faster. This is pretty silly, and I am fully aware of that. My tragic flaw is worrying to the point of irrationality. I'm working on it. It's quite a work in progress.

So yesterday, as I was feeling pretty low after friends/coworkers little observations about (brace yourself, here) how I DON'T look like I did during Ironman training (I know...no SHIZ Sherlock--pregnancy MIGHT do that to you), for some reason I remembered back in high school how my friend at the time, Joy, was going to spend her junior year as an AFS student in France and how I couldn't possibly wrap my head around it.

But, she's going to MISS SO MUCH! Like, FOOTBALL GAMES! And, GOING TO FRIENDLY'S AFTER FOOTBALL GAMES! And, like, the big yearly BAND CONCERT! I mean, how will she LIVE knowing she didn't get to go to HOMECOMING? Why on EARTH would you want to miss all THAT and spend a year in PARIS? What about SWIM SEASON?! And, like, AP ENGLISH?! How could you want to be ANYWHERE BUT HERE?????

Yeah. Pretty ridiculous.

Let's see....France, or small-town Ohio?

To 16 year old me I couldn't POSSIBLY GRASP anything but small-town Ohio. That was my little world I had created for myself, and that was all I knew.

This is a good thing that I'm being forced to study abroad this year. I've gotten a few books and have been reading about how I can fine-tune things: my bike, my nutrition, etc. I've been forced to step back and have fought it kicking and screaming the whole way. Workouts are getting shorter. Stomach is getting bigger. Kicks are getting stronger.

I'm being forced to live in the moment. Not thinking about this week's plans, or this month's goals, or hours on this or that.

This, to me, is a foreign country.

I'm sure that I'll look back on this I'll laugh, just like I do when I tell the story of how I thought Joy was absolutely insane for leaving my little world for 9 months. It all seems so silly now. High school didn't go anywhere, but she had an amazing experience. Neither are these races.

When you're at minute 32 of a 7 mile ride, you can't start thinking about all your insecurities and worries. You just keep spinning. If you worry too much, you waste energy. And that's DUMB. You just go minute by minute and deal with each thought as they come to you, and each problem as it arises. And then you move on.

How did I get through the Ironman last year, with my nutrition that I left in the trunk of my car, the surprise weather forecast that left many on the side of the road with hypothermia, the clock that ticked away and the initial goals in my head that slipped away, too?

I think, really, for the first time in my life actually, I didn't think about it. I just did it. I stayed in the moment or I would never, EVER have made it to that finish line.

Somehow, I need to do that here. I will get fitter again. I will get faster again. I've never let myself down before, and I damn well know that I won't now.

So maybe instead of worrying, I'd better just enjoy the view from the Eiffel Tower this tri season.

This graph (click here to enlarge) shows the relative performance of a FP60 (purple line) and FP40 (olive line) compared to other Zipp wheels and some common competitors. The FP60 performs well across a wide range of yaw and is only really out-performed by the Zipp 808 (green line).

In many ways, this graph explains the incredulous looks we experience time and time again, when people ride the flash points for the first time. At a ride during May on the Charlotte Speedway, almost everyone who put the FPs on their bike broke their personal best times.

We get many questions about the lack of dimples and what effect this has. The dimples allow the air to 'stick' to the rim at greater yaw angles, so they buy you aero advantage at 3-4 more degrees of yaw - allows you to ride in higher angle cross winds and still enjoy the lower drag. This can be seen as the off-set displacement of the dimpled rim curves to the right in the graph.

Makes you think!!

The Iron Kahuna was looking at the funky particulars for his upcoming Escape from the Rock Triathlon XXVII at the end of the month, and it looks like his kind of race.

First, a nice little 1.5 mile swim from Alcatraz to the city through the choppy waters and currents of shark-infested San Francisco Bay. This cuts down on the spandex-cowboy cyclists who usually dog-paddle their way through the swim portions of triathlon races (let's not mention names) and then blow past the Kahuna during the first half of the bike leg.

The race entry has a few warnings for swimming-challenged:

MILD PANIC: If you find that when you jump in the water or start to swim that your heart begins to beat rapidly and your breathing feels out of control, this is perfectly normal. It's just the adrenaline rush of raceday paired with the shock of the cold bay water. Use your own judgment on whether to continue, especially if you have any medical conditions ... You may backstroke, or swim with your head out of the water until you’re comfortable to swim again.

WARNING SIGNS: If you start to get cold and can’t think straight, you are experiencing mild hypothermia and should make the choice to end your swim. Full hypothermia may result in death. Don’t be ashamed or hesitate to call it quits early. If you decide it’s just not your day, stay put and raise your hand. Yell to get the attention of an escort, and you will be picked up.

After the refreshing swim, then triathletes run 2.5 miles to T1. Swear to God. The Kahuna isn't sure whether you strip and carry your wetsuit or run with your wetsuit on. If it's the latter, he'll be quite toasty by the time he hops on Buttah.

The bike is only 15 miles -- now how badly can the Kahuna do in just 15 miles (no one has to answer that question)? And then comes a 10K run.

The ratio between swim:bike:run is favorable for the Kahuna. He can only pray for heavy winds, large surf, and a few great whites to further even the playing field.

Google Maps recently released a "Street View" feature which allows people to browse images taken at street level in various cities. Visitors can take a virtual walk down the road and zoom and pan around the entire city. This has raised concerns from privacy advocates who are worried about private moments being shared on the interent.

Those fears seemed to be well-founded when people stumbled upon this image of a cyclist apparently answering the call of nature:

Biker 1

Fortunately, when seen from a different angle we can see he is simply fixing his bike:

Biker 2

There is a lesson for all of us here: If you are having bike problems by all means pull over to take care of it. But whatever you do PLEASE pull up your pants first. You never know who may be wactching.

And wear a helmet.

I recently underwent a 3-hour bike fit session with Paul Levine at Signature Cycles in Manhattan. Paul is a Zipp dealer (among many other high-end products).

I created a long thread about the fit session over at RoadBikeReview.com. You can check it out here.

There are so many similarities between music and triathlon; I sometimes feel silly continuing to use the same comparison. But, since practicing and training pretty much dictate my life, I guess it makes sense that they are the focus of my thoughts as well.

My high school flute teacher (and one I've continued to sporadically play for since) won every single audition he ever took. This is not normal. At a typical audition, there will be anywhere from 100-200 flute players looking to land a single spot in an orchestra. No matter how good you are, it's almost impossible to win, and then to win every time? Without fail? It's unheard of.

As the impressionable 16 year old that I was, I idolized my teacher. I memorized everything he said and followed it as gospel; it was hero worship to a fault.

And so of course I remember perfectly what he said when I asked him how he achieved such consistency. I remember talking about how I was worried about college auditions and was wondering how I would ever be admitted anywhere. The music field is cut throat; even at that stage there might be 3-4 spots for 60 applicants. I was confident in my flutistic ability, but anyone thinking about those odds has to feel some doubt.

So, when I expressed that uncertainty to Mr. Khaner, he shook his head and looked at me like I was crazy. He said, 'You can't think about it like that. You have to go in there, look at all the other flute players standing around, and then think to yourself "Man, I feel sorry for all these other flutists who aren't going to get into this school; they aren't going to get in because I will."'

And he was serious. He really thought that. He went into every audition knowing that he would win, and win he did.

Believing in yourself isn't the end-all, be-all, but it certainly does help. If you're the best flutist, the fastest triathlete in the world, it won't matter unless you also believe in your mind and in your soul that you're the best.

The winners of any race know that they can win. It's not an accident, it's not just chance. The winners go into the race absolutely positive that they have the ability to win. Whether or not it happens is kind of inconsequential; the winners know that they have the capability, and sooner or later it'll happen. If they keep going, if they keep believing, they will win.

Now, I'm the first to admit that I'm not the best. I'm not the best flute player, and I'm certainly not the best triathlete. It would be stupid and ignorant to believe otherwise. But, I still think this 'I'm the best' philosophy can be applied to us mere mortals.

Whatever your goals are, whether they be winning the race, achieving a new PR, or simply finishing, if you believe in yourself, your chances are infinitely higher. So, go on...say it with me...

"I'm the best!"

And now, don't just say it...let it soak into your consciousness, stick it on a post-it on your mirror if you need. (I did when preparing for those college auditions, and you know what? I was accepted to one of the best schools in the country.)

Believing won't take the place of preparation (yes, training is still necessary), but truly having faith in oneself is invaluable. It's not as easy as it sounds; it might even be harder than the century rides and marathons and even IronMan races, but in the grand scheme, it'll bring you so much further than any of those things. It's the intangible that will allow for the tangible.

I know it's corny and kind of a self-help overload, but that doesn't make it less true...

Believe in yourself. You're the best.

Zipp spent some serious time in the wind tunnel in the spring and came away with many very interesting results.

The influence of rim shape on aerodynamics is far larger than the industry imagined. These articles in recent Road Magazine and Triathlete issues give the story.

Riding a FP at 20 mph will save you approx 6.5 watts or 45gm of drag over a 32 spoke box Al wheel set - single wheel to wheel comparison at 15 degrees yaw. Now add a rear wheel at approx 75% and you are talking serious numbers!!. These latest wind tunnel results show the aero contribution is almost linear - you do not have to be going 30 mph to get a very real aero boost.

Listen to these podcasts as Zipp's Josh Poertner explains the ins and outs of cycling aerodynamics.