Vinnie Tortorich

“I was in a 12-hour race, it just took me 13 hours to do it.” – Vinnie-ism

Several years back I was at Universal Cycles working on one of my bikes. The owners of the shop have always taken care of me. As anyone into cycling knows, a good service department is worth its weight in gold. It may also mean that your bike will have to be there several days waiting in line to be fixed. The folks at Universal have always been good about getting me back on the road immediately. I guess you can call me a professional of sorts since I actually use my bike to make a living. They’ve also allowed me to work on my own bikes in the service department. One day as I was putting a new chain on my bike, a triathlete strolled in with a beautiful Cervelo tri-bike. The triathlete told Carlos what he needed. Carlos said, “Great, leave it there, I’ll take care of it.” At the same time, Carlos stayed away from the bike as if it had the plague. As soon as the owner of the bike walked out of the shop, Carlos had the guy who worked under him take the bike out back and scrub it down. Noticing this odd behavior, I asked Carlos why he wouldn’t wait until after he fixed the bike to clean it. After all, it seemed to make more sense. That’s when Carlos mentioned his hard and fast rule: Never touch a tri-bike until it’s perfectly clean. His reasoning, “Those crazy bastards pee on perfectly good bikes.” I told you that to tell you this. I’ve peed while on the bike exactly once. I remember it like it was yesterday. It was a 12-hour mountain bike race in southern California. It was a race where I had been the bridesmaid twice before, finishing second. It was a tough race up in the Big Bear Lake area called 12 Hours at the Summit. For 11 hours I traded the lead with one other guy. I would take him on the uphill climb, but the guy had crazy downhill skills that I’ve never had. And lap after lap, he would pass me on the downhills. I knew if I had any chance of winning the race, the wheels of my bike could not stop. I started to have trouble during the ninth and tenth hour, knowing I had to go to a bathroom. I knew in the 11th hour that it was going to become a kidney problem if I didn’t relieve myself soon. So, during my last uphill, I waited until I got to a 100-yard flat spot in the climb to stand on the pedals, whip it out and go for it. As I thought I could clear me and the bike, the attempt became futile. And there I was peeing on a $5,000 carbon Trek mountain bike. As it turned out, I didn’t win the race that day. But the next day, as I washed urine from my bike, I realized that I gave it all I had. In the interest of giving you more information than you need to know, in the big stage races like the ones you see Lance Armstrong in (Tour de France, Giro d’Italia, Vuelta a Espana), those guys do what’s called natural breaks. They talk to each other within the peloton. Once they decide that enough people really need to pee, they will stop as a group without getting off their bikes, pee, and catch the peloton as a group. In most instances, the peloton will wait for the group. It’s kind of like NASCAR under a yellow flag (no pun intended). But triathletes have it different. Just like mountain bike racing, drafting is illegal. In the pro division, stopping could be the end of your race. But most triathletes have another advantage. They will ride their bike with the swimsuit they had on in the water. Even if they wear tri-style shorts, there is little or no padding to hold urine. Once the urine clears the lycra, the lycra will dry quickly. You may ask why I would even entertain this question. Believe it or not, it’s the type of question people ask me all the time. I’m just giving people what they want. I’m a pleaser.

Man it’s a hot one, like seven inches from the midday sun. Rob Thomas – Smooth

I love competition, I always have. It was easy when I was a kid because there was always team sports. Sometimes I played so many sports that they would cross over each other. Once I graduated form college, it seemed to come to an abrupt end. I quickly found myself doing any 5 or 10k race I could find. In the early 80’s I also found this newfangled sport called triathlon which I never thought would stick. Boy, was I wrong! Somewhere around 1985 cycling had become my true love and I quickly learned about a sport called ultracycling. As I read about the great Pete Penseyres and Jonathan Boyer in a cycling magazine, and how they went from coast to coast in the Race Across America in under nine days, sometimes sleeping less than 2 hours out of 24, I was instantly hooked. I would dream of one day becoming wealthy enough to be able to take the time off to train for such an event. In the early 90’s I realized that that amount of wealth may never be achieved, and I couldn’t put my dreams of doing ultracycling events on hold. I began competing in 12 and 24 hour Mountain Bike races, but by 2002, could no longer do it based on a shoulder injury that continued to erode. In short, the downhills were so brutally painful that sometimes I would black out and find myself upside down in trees wondering how I got there. After taking time off, I decided to take to the road and do some ultra-events. This has gone very well for me in the past few years, but, for more reasons that I care not to mention here, I had to take this year off. By the end of April I had already had just under 6,000 miles of hard work and I decided to walk away from the only race that I had signed up for, and paid for at that point, the Furnace Creek 508, a race owned by my friend Chris Kostman and his company, Adventure Corps. I had announced to a few friends that I would not be racing this year, and that’s when a couple of old buddies of mine asked me if we could do it as a team. After all, I wouldn’t have to train so hard, and they would only have to train a little harder just to get to the event. It would be a win-win for everyone. The team would be my buddy Jonathan Goldhill, who is a good rider. The problem is, I’ve ridden with Johnny for 19 years. He’s complained about something on every single ride we’ve been on. The second rider is Steve Gruman, who has been riding on and off with us for about the last 10 years. The problem with Steve is that he cramps on almost all of the rides. The third player of the foursome is one of my favorite clients of all time, Christina DeRonde. In my opinion, she is a shining star on this four man team, and she’s a woman.

Jonathan, Steve, and me climbing in Malibu. Photo: Paul Herold

I told you that to tell you this: I was on a training ride with Steve and Jonathan this past Saturday. The temperatures in the valley were hitting 105 in areas. We started a climb about 50 miles into our ride with grades as shallow as 9% and as high as 15%. This went on for the first 3 miles. Then for the next 8 miles, it was more of a realistic climb, averaging between 7% and 9%. We all suffered that day, but we made it through. I think we would all agree that Jonathan suffered the most because he always chooses to ride in the early morning; cooler weather and his body just wasn’t used to it. The important thing is two regular guys who are weekend warriors that just love to ride their bikes are doing what it takes to get the job done. As for Christina, we ran into her that day going in the opposite direction leading a group of trialthletes. Do I think we have a chance of winning the four man team group division in the 508 this year? Absolutely not. Do I think we are going to have fun more than any other team? And have the experience of a lifetime? Absolutely. I’ll be talking more about this race as the date nears in early October, but I want to thank my friends for stepping up and getting me to the starting line in Santa Clarita once again.

Great lungs for climbing!

Back when I was in college in the dark ages, several drugs ran rampant through football teams. I know you want to think that all of these athletes are clean, upstanding members of society. Think again.

I was probably one of about 25 percent of the team that always stayed away from the drugs. The general drugs used for performance enhancement were several different types of steroids and amphetamines (speed).

Believe me, I thought about it on a daily basis. We didn’t think of it as cheating back then. So, I didn’t have any moral issue. Practically everyone was using it.

I was worried about future consequences, such as cancer. But I guess the joke was on me. Although I never touched any of these drugs, I got cancer anyway. But I digress.

The only line of defense the NCAA took against these drugs was to say that they didn’t work. The drugs wouldn’t improve athletic performance. Bullshit. These drugs worked plenty fine. They turned average athletes into good athletes, and good ones into great ones.

I stopped myself from taking drugs out of fear of later damage.

I told you that to tell you this. A couple of months back, my cousin Skylar Giardina called. She works full-time and is a mother of two. She’s also a triathlete. Like most triathletes, she’s always looking for that edge, that one thing to push her over the top and make her time better.

So I get a call from Skylar from time to time. She usually asks about equipment. Should I get a tri-bike? What do you think about deep-dish Zipp wheels? Last time she called me, she asked about a different product…a so-called nutritional product called Jack3d. She was telling me that everyone in her tri club uses the stuff and swears by it.

I hear this often from cyclists, tri-athletes and runners. The promise is that the product works better than steroids and is safer. I’m here to tell you to be skeptical. If it sounds too good to be true, it is.

In the words of P.T. Barnum, a sucker is born every minute. These companies rely on that.

There are ergogenic aids that will help your athletic performance and I will discuss them on this blog from time to time. Jack3d is not one of them.

“I was in the right place but it must have been the wrong time.” – Dr. John

I was at a bachelor party around 15 years ago. As with most of these parties, it was in a strip joint. And unlike most guys who tell their wives and girlfriends, “Honey, I hate going to strip clubs, but I couldn’t let the guys down. You understand.” I, on the other hand, have had a good time every time I’ve been in a strip joint.

I think strippers are like chocolate…even the bad ones are good. Beside, it’s possibly the only industry on the planet that’s immune to the economy and inflation. What do I mean by this? When I was 17 I walked into a strip joint for the first time. When the girl was finished her dance, I like everyone else, threw a dollar on the stage. The last time I went to a club, back in 2005, when the girl finished her song, once again, I threw a dollar on stage. Both the first and last time, it was the best deal on the planet. I get to see something strange and naked for virtually free. But I digress.

The girl that was dancing at the bachelor party suddenly called out my name with a question mark at the end. I was in shock because I didn’t know any strippers. But she knew me. And as my eyes moved up from her waistline to her face, I realized I knew her too. She was a fitness trainer from a gym that I worked out in.

Now for an even bigger coincidence. There’s a woman who works out at the same gym as Serena and I. She’s instantly recognizable from her buzz cut, extremely lean body mass and freakishly large fake breasts. The woman is basically a gym rat. She told Serena she was a trainer, and if she ever wanted to get into great shape to give her a call. The thing is, Serena is already in great shape. I’d say she’s in phenomenal shape considering she is training for her second marathon.

Now here’s where the strange twist comes into this story. A week ago, an old friend of mine from high school who generally sends out several e-mails a day with right-wing views, Christian messages or funny and strange pornographic material from the Internet, send me something that caught my attention. I was surprised to see the trainer who was soliciting business was also a porn star.

I told you that to tell you this. Am I saying porn stars and strippers make bad fitness experts? No, not at all. Being good at one thing doesn’t stop you from being good at other things. I’m good at shooting rifles. It doesn’t prevent me from being a good fitness trainer. The point I want to make is, the probability of a stripper or a porn star having the proper education to be a fitness expert is low.

And it doesn’t stop there. There are a lot of soccer moms who drop their kids off at school then try to start a cottage industry as a fitness person. They get their credentials by taking a course. I’ve always found this to be nothing short of laughable. I spent four years in college getting what they got in one weekend.

And by the way, those who certify these people are not certified or sanctioned by any governing body. It’s not like I can start an astronaut training school and after one weekend tell someone they’re ready to fly a shuttle.

There’s no shortage of coaches on the Internet offering training programs for runners, cyclists and triathletes. Most of these people got all of their training by reading a Joe Friel book. I’m a fan of Joe Friel. I think his books are excellent. I suggest before hiring a coach for a lot of money, you should buy one of Joe’s books. You’ll get better advice, and it won’t be watered down by a so-called expert.

I apologize if I have gotten off on a rant here today. But sometimes I get sick and tired of taking on clients who have been screwed over by a self-described expert. Now I must go and find a great picture of Sophia Loren to calm my nerves. Thank you very much.

“If you go lookin’ for hot water, don’t act shocked when you get burned a little bit.” – Jack White of the White Stripes

Perception. Consider a young boy comes home from kindergarten and announces to his family, “When I get big I want to be a fireman.”

His whole family smiles and agrees it’s an excellent idea.

Meanwhile, his father is really thinking about how he doesn’t want his kid to be a fireman. For one thing, they don’t get paid enough. They spend their life running into burning buildings. He’d much prefer his son become a doctor or lawyer.

The mother thinks, “Hmm, I like firemen. The other day I saw a couple of them in their uniforms at the grocery store. I thought about starting a grease fire in my kitchen just to get them over to my house.”

And the sister thinks, “Fireman? More like arsonist, maybe.”

I told you that to tell you this. The point I’m trying to make is no matter where you are on this planet, your perceptions will be different from others’.

If you happen to be the guy riding the bicycle, your perception is, “There’s a car coming up, the driver will see me and go wide to the left to miss me.” Why? I’m sure the driver realizes I have a family at home that loves me and they’d like to see me get back home safe and sound.

The guy in the car has a different point of view. He sees the cyclist and immediately gets pissed off. Why? He remembers the cyclist who cut him off in traffic last week. Or the three idiot cyclists who rode three abreast taking up the whole lane. Beside, how does this jackass get leisure time to ride a bike when I have to go to work?

The answer is they’re both correct. But the bottom line is we both have to share the road. Remember drivers, cyclists pay just as many taxes for those roads as you do. We have every right to be there.

And, yeah, it’s easy to be a bully when you are nestled in a two-ton cage while cyclists are as exposed as a golf ball sitting on tee. But keep this in mind: We don’t want to be dead. And I’m pretty sure you don’t want to be a murderer.

In the words of Rodney King, why can’t we all just get along?

Cyclists, fall is upon us, and it will begin to get dark early. There’s a great company, and I think I own everything they make, called Road ID. They’re an affiliate right here on my site. They make dog tags and bracelets with vital information that can speak for you if you can’t speak for itself. I don’t run or ride my bike without one.

This company also offers reflective gear and flashing lights. It’s the stuff I use for all of my night training and ultra racing. The cool thing about Road ID is that it’s never too expensive.

“And maybe it’s the time of year, yes, and maybe it’s the time of man. And I don’t know who I am but life is for learning.” – James Taylor, Woodstock

On May 30, 2005 a high school graduate from Mountain Brook, Alabama went missing. Her name was Natalee Holloway. She was on a graduation trip to Aruba. Her disappearance caused a media sensation. In September 2010, you can still find stories about this girl on television, in newspapers and lots of other media. Her mother, Beth Twitty, has become nothing less than a celebrity doing every talk show she can get on, from Greta Van Susteren, Oprah and others. It was and still is a media circus.

Agnes Gonxhe Bojaxhiu was born August 26, 1910 and died September 5, 1997. We barely heard anything about her death because five days earlier on August 31, 1997 a bigger death occurred – the death of Diana Frances Spencer, also known as Princess Di.

These three women had little in common. But one thing ties them all together. They were all media sensations.

Let’s start with Holloway. Why would the media care five years after her disappearance, especially after they have a suspect in custody? They care because she’s a beautiful white girl with blonde hair and blue eyes. Young women go missing around the world every day. Most of them don’t even get a picture on a milk carton.

Princess Diana had an untimely death. At the age of 36, the world wept because she was such an important figure. What the media doesn’t remember is the moment up to her last heartbeat. She had become nothing more than tabloid fodder. To put it into today’s terms, she was basically a Kardashian, bedding down every billionaire playboy she can get her hands on.

What does Agnes have to do with all of this? Everything. She was a woman who gave her entire life to helping people in poverty. She was known the world over and honored by popes. Her death was a mere after-thought on the news because of the blonde hair blue-eyed girl…the queen of the Enquirer, and a bulimic.

Oh, by the way, Agnes had a stage name too. It was Mother Teresa.

I told you that to tell you this. Natalee Holloway is not a bad person. And the truth is Princess Di had her problems, but did a ton of public service. Mother Teresa needs no introduction. If she were an endurance athlete, I wouldn’t want to be in that race.

The media decides what’s going to happen and when they’re going to let it happen. Take for instance the new story coming out of Louisiana. There’s another oil spill. Isn’t it odd that this spill comes on the heels of the one that basically ruined the Gulf of Mexico? For the last hundred years we haven’t heard of this, but now there’s two in a row. Could it be that the oil companies had these leaks all the time but kept them quiet? Maybe the BP spill got out of hand. I was born at night, but it wasn’t last night.

It’s my feeling that spills have been happening for a long time. I also think the media is lazy and goes for low-hanging fruit. It’s great that they’re covering these spills. Now if we can only lower our thirst for oil.

I know it sounds like a meaningless statement to do so. I mention on this site that we should ride our bikes to work sometimes, especially since most Americans live within two miles from their place of work. Other countries are working to cut fossil fuels out of their diet. Brazil seems to be well on its way, for one.

I’m not saying get rid of your car. I have one and I use it some days. As anyone who reads this site knows, I always try to use my bicycle first, my two-cylinder motorcycle second and my four-cylinder car as a last resort. With the advent of more hybrids and electrical cars, options are there. Next time you’re car shopping, you may want to consider one of these.