Holy Footbed Shims, Batman! You’re Amazing! Cycling and How to Know You Need to Shim a Cleat, What It Feels Like… Before and After
I’ve been cycling, enthusiastically, since 2011. I’ve gone through professional fittings and become adept enough at the process I can fit myself on a bike with ease, and can even manage to help set my wife up on her new bike (who happens to be a lot harder to fit on a bicycle than I am… but mainly because I can’t feel what she feels). Point is, I know my way around setting a bicycle up. Not enough to be cocky about it, of course. We must make that distinction, because otherwise everything comes off as cocky in writing.
Anyway, every year, around this time in February, I start feeling some pain and tenderness in my left… well, just in front of the sit bone area from my inner leg hitting the saddle on the bottom of the pedal stroke. Only on the left side. Eventually, I contemplate lowering the saddle to keep this from growing into something more persistent and painful. In the past, I’ve gone that far, only to raise it again once I got back on the road after winter because it felt foreign.
Also, almost every saddle sore I’ve gotten in the last decade has been on the left side, in the same exact place.
I knew my left leg was shorter and that this was likely a problem, but I figured the saddle sores were fairly normal (and I would get one on the right now and again), so I left well enough alone and rode through the pain of the sores every now and again.
Then, my wife and I were on the phone Saturday afternoon and she said I should stop by the shop to say hi to Matt and the fellas. First, I know, that is sexy as hell – especially considering there was a massive sale going on… I LOVE MY WIFE! While there, I picked up a few tires I’d need for the season and on a display I saw a size 43/44 footbed and shim set from Specialized marked 40% off. I thought, why not give that a whirl. So I bought the set and headed out to meet my wife.
I get everything ready the next morning before our trainer ride.
I started out adding a 1.5mm shim to my left foot but that didn’t feel much better, so I added another 1mm shim and hopped back on the trainer… and the difference was utterly astonishing. So much so, I was interested to go an extra ten minutes just to see if my left leg would start talking to me like it normally does.
Not a thing.
Just like that, I’m sold. I put two shims in my left mountain bike shoe as well, which I’ll use on the tandem and on my gravel bike. And so easy!
Now, this isn’t all perfect and I’m going out on a little bit of a limb because Specialized’s shims aren’t exactly set and forget. They’re a little thicker on the inside than the outside which is meant to straighten the foot. There’s a very good chance I’ve simply rolled my foot too far out which can cause problems as well. To that end, I switched out an old set of S-Works footbeds for a new set and I cut up the left footbed to match the shims I put in my first pair of shoes and I put the footbed shim in my second pair of road shoes to see if I could tell the difference. That’s the cheap and easy way of fixing a leg imbalance.
Anyway, the important thing is, I’m excited for this season, to see if I can escape without saddle sores. I’m especially interested in seeing what happens on the tandem where the vast majority of one’s time is spent saddle-bound.
And that brings me to one final point about Specialized. While they’re treatment of small shop owners is enough to give me the vapors, when it comes to the equipment they make, they really show a lot of give a shit. Tinkering with my shoes and their footbeds, I was shocked to discover that there was virtually no difference between a footbed in a mid-level mountain bike shoe footbed and a pair of $425 carbon fiber-soled S-Works shoes. It was literally the same footbed with different brand writing… and a few different lines pressed into the mold to give them a different look. Same weight, same density, same size and shape.
You hear about “trickle down technology” with Shimano quite often. I never expected to see what I saw when I pulled my shoes apart over the weekend.
Note: Technically, in the Title, I wrote shimming a “cleat”. I don’t shim cleats because that’ll make the cleat a little more proud and therefore dangerous, especially for a mountain bike shoe. I prefer to shim the footbed for safety.
GCN’s Simon Tests a 10-Year-Old Specialized Tarmac Against His Brand New Canyon Aeroad to See How Much Technology Has Improved in a Decade… BUT…
Simon dug his old, 2013 Tarmac SL3 out of the attic. It has Campagnolo Chorus 11-speed and an old set of Mavic alloy shallow wheels with some tidy aero spokes.
His new Canyon Aeroad is top of the line – much more top of the line than his old Tarmac… which brings about an interesting conundrum.
He tested the bikes, power for power, and came out with a fair difference betwixt the two, as one would expect.
However, as most discerning cyclists would pick out, there’s a trick to this. A sleight of hand, if you will. the Tarmac wasn’t the top of the line bike Specialized released that year. More important, those alloy wheels, while nice and certainly light, were middle of the road for wheels available that year.
I’d like to see Si’s new Aeroad against that Tarmac with a set of carbon fiber 50s… or better, against this:
The squishiness Si experienced in his Tarmac would be fixed, the aero frame issue and exposed cables (most of them, at least) would be fixed, the wheels would be fixed… In fact, other than the cables at the front, the only difference would be aero rim brakes vs. disc brakes. Oh, how tasty that would be. I’d bet my lunch you’d be down to a mere few seconds over ten or twenty miles, if it wasn’t an even matchup. It certainly would be fair.
Oh, and I’d be willing to bet Si’s Aeroad isn’t much lighter than the Venge, too. Oh how I’d like to see that matchup.
I’m Having a Bit of Writer’s Block… But Because Life Is Grand?
I haven’t written a word in three days. I had a work thing pop up that’s provided a lot of unnecessary stress that I’ve been processing with the help (or hindrance?) of my new sponsor. I had an awesome meeting Wednesday night with some excellent friends. I’ve been working hard with a couple of sponsees, enough I don’t think I’d pick up another till I get done with my own fourth.
I’ve also been doing my GCN research and I should have a ton to write about… like their latest video about the differences between a modern road bike vs. Si’s 10-year old Specialized Tarmac SL3 – a fantastic video that shows a massive gap between the two… if you’re riding with shallow alloy wheels on the Specialized. I’d love to see the difference were they to put a set of period carbon wheels on the bike (or even something a little more modern). Many in the comments agreed that the gap would close to a margin of error. Still something, but not much of something.
Anyway, while I’ve got a little stress at work, I don’t believe it’s something that can’t be sorted out quickly and be back to better than normal with a little more “give a $#!!+”.
Everything else, my wife and my marriage, our home, our kids, the people we work with in recovery, and our cycling friends are, for the most part, cruising along and awesome. We’re into planning rides and signing up for them at the moment – planning our summers out. It should be a great one and I’m entirely looking forward to what my wife and I can do on our new tandem and her new (old) road bike.
My wife and I wake up together, thanking our HP for another day and for the journey we’ve been on (and what remains ahead).
It’s good times and noodle salad. And thank God for that.
Recovery and Workin’ Steps, Baby. How Free Do I Want to Be?
I started working with a new sponsor the other day. Let’s just say he’s not gentle. I’m starting a new fourth step and I’ve got a month and some change to get it done while he and his wife head down to Florida to get away from the worst of the winter. We’re right on the edge of the worst the winter will have to offer, so they’re heading down just at the right time… and that gives me time to work on a big fourth.
At first, I thought to myself, “a fourth step? Really? The more I thought about it, though, the more appealing the idea was. I’ve got a few things that I really want to unload.
So, humorously, as these things tend to work out, I’ve got two guys I’m sponsoring plus me working on the fourth and fifth. It’s going to be a busy February.
So, the question for today is how free do I want to be?
My answer is, free enough I want to do another fourth step.
Clipless or… Erm… Pedals Without Clips… Erm Flat/Platform Pedals?
I believe I’ve seen all of the videos GCN has put out on flat/platform pedals vs. clipless. For the uninitiated, “clipless” refers to a lack of toe clips and straps… you still, ironically, clip into clipless pedals.
What they rarely cover in the whole discussion is foot position, though they did for a second or two in the imbedded clip.
First, clipping into clipless pedals, to spoil the clip and add my two cents, is only slightly more efficient than using platform pedals with little screw-in flat spikes and mountain specific shoes without cleats, until you get out of the saddle and sprint. At that point, a person who has used clipless pedals will feel vastly safer to hit the gas harder because their feet are connected and secured to the pedals.
Having ridden a 30-mile loop with the Elite A-Group on Tuesday night on a set of platform pedals (though, admittedly, the pedals I used were the cheap, stock plastic platforms without spikes). At a decent pace and cadence, it’s simply too hard to keep your feet in what I approximated was the proper position.
And that word, “approximated”, was the important part of that sentence, folks. You have to guess… and at 90-rpm, guessing where your feet should be gets old in a hurry. Especially bad is when you’re a little off and you can’t move your foot in little increments while moving at that rate of speed. What I ended up experiencing was a lot of pain from having my feet in the wrong place on the pedals to work the crank efficiently for my ankle, knee and hip joints. For that reason, I’ve never bothered with trying platforms again. Perhaps cycling at a less aggressive pace wouldn’t prove so difficult.
Next is the mountain bike issue (and this applies to potholes on the road as well – especially bunny-hopping an unexpected pothole). When descending, you can experience everything from roots to rocks making the descent tricky. If your feet are clipped in, you don’t have to worry about your feet bouncing off the pedals. The spiked platforms wouldn’t be as bad as straight up plastic, but I’ve always felt better being connected to the bike in clipless pedals.
In the end, the choice to go clipless or platform will come down to choice. This commentary is included to help those new to the choice to make a reasoned choice. It’s always an interesting topic.
UPDATE: Be sure to check out the comments. What a great topic for well-reasoned discussion based on experience. Great stuff.
Are Skin Suits Worth The Speed? Well…
We have team kit speed suits. They’re expensive, fast, well-made… and if you don’t have an exceptional physique, you will resemble a sausage wearing one.
Here’s the bitch, though; they are that much faster compared to a normal high-end kit – and not just at hyper-fast paces… they’re a lot faster at the pace my wattage allows for on a Tuesday night (I average around 350 watts for just under an hour-twenty on a decently fast night). If I was a little lighter… erm… okay, a lot lighter, I probably wouldn’t have to worry about that kind of output, but I’m content with myself. Even if I have started eating a lot more salad of late. And fish. Oh, and cut out most of the troublesome stuff… dammit, I’m on a diet. A real one, too, for Pete’s sake.
I won’t be switching any time soon, though. A standard kit offers a little more… erm… modesty, and that’s worth more to me than saving a minute. I don’t spend that much time up front unless I’m on the tandem with Jess, anyway.
And if you think you’re getting your wife into one of those get-ups so you can twin on the tandem, without giving up something else vitally more important to happiness, your level of ignorance is colossal.
How much like a sausage are you willing to look? Now, that’s the proper question!
Willing to Go to Any Length to Remain Sober…
I’ve asked a man, with direct lineage to my sponsor, Mike who passed away in 2009 to sponsor me, and he’s accepted… and made sure to point out that I have to be willing to go to any length (and put up with his bluntness). He then stated, after 30 years of recovery, I should have a pretty good handle on 1, 2 & 3, so I should probably start on 4 right away.
At first, of course, you can imagine my reaction; What?! A FOURTH Step? I’m on TEN, ELEVEN & TWELVE!
And then I thought, Well, Jim, any length is any length… and think of the good that can come from it! Let’s see just how free you can be.
I got over myself in about fourteen seconds and now I can’t wait. In fact, I’m sponsoring a new guy and he’s going through his first so we’ll be able to work on it together.
Plus, my new sponsor is one of the few people who display the ability to make other people feel better about being themselves with unconditional love. That’s what I want.
I’d have been able to remain sober another fifty years the way I was going, one day at a time, if I’d kept after it as I have in the past. But what better have I to do than find out just how good good is?
And so it begins. Again.
I love this stuff.
Contending with My Mortality While Using… Knowing The End Was Near and Looking Back.
I’m finally beginning to see why people soften as they age. I can see why we don’t take to violent movies the same now that I’m into my fifties. I can finally understand why they don’t send old people like us to war. I’m on the back nine, in a golfer’s parlance, and it’s beautiful back here…
The glorious thing about a human liver is that, if you choose to beat the ever-loving shit out of it in your youth, if you stop abusing it soon enough, it’ll repair itself. I had less than a decade left when I quit alcohol and drugs. Estimates were seven years. I would have been dust twenty years ago had I not turned it around.
As a kid, I tended to think I was on the immortal side. I thought the doctor was just trying to scare me. I’ve seen family, on my wife’s side, die. A week after, “The doctor says if I just quit for a year my liver will get better and I can go back to drinking”, she was dead.
I couldn’t see life without alcohol and drugs a week before I quit. I couldn’t see how it could be any fun to live without an escape from the fear, from the nagging down, from the misery I caused myself and others with bad choices and thinking. How can you have fun if you can’t escape, was the line of thinking.
I know the answer today; you build a life you don’t have to escape from.
There’s a downside to that, though, even if it’s technically an upside: Life is so sweet I’ve actually come to cherish it.
My life isn’t perfect. I don’t have caviar dreams and, the irony is sweet, the champagne wishes were flushed long ago. Every morning I wake up, though, I’m grateful for being on the right side of the grass. I lead a happy life today, and I care enough about it that it’s changed my attitude and outlook.
I went from hoping my days were numbered to hoping that number was huge.
Folks, recovery from addiction, especially early in life, is better than cheating death. I wasn’t even all that good at the work as is evidenced by the what I’ve had to correct in the last year… and things turned out so much better than I could have hoped, I’m thankful I’m not the architect of my fate. If I’d have tried to sit down and map my life out as a recovering 24-year-old kid, I’d have shorted myself.
If you’re struggling, don’t quit five minutes before the miracle happens. Remember perspective. If you can’t think of a reason to be happy, or to even keep breathing, try looking at it differently; why not repair the damage so you can help others in your same spot recover from their pain, too? The key is in helping others, folks. If you’re struggling, try it. If feel you have nothing to give, the answer is to work at it till you do.
Recover hard, my friends. It’s beautiful out here.
At What Price Point Does a Road Bike Become Unattainable?
I watched an interesting video on YouTube yesterday where a very British announcer posed the very question in the Title. The announcer stated there was a 40% 14% tariff* on any bike made outside of the UK – apparently the UK went all Donald Trump on evening up China’s trade imbalance… so if you add 40% on top of a normal bike price I don’t know if that would make them unattainable, but it’d piss me off covering a 40% tariff, though. And, should that have been the case in the US, I’d have thanked God both our old and new tandem are manufactured, made, built, painted, partially assembled, shipped and will arrive at my door step after the final assembly, entirely in the United States (it’s made in Oregon, Eugene, I believe). If you think a single bike expensive, get into the world of top-end tandems! WOW!
Anyway, it’s hard to believe, but now that I think of it, between my wife and I the three main bikes in our stable will all be hand-built in the USA. My Trek 5200, Jess’s Assenmacher, and our tandem.
The question is, though, at what point does a road bike become unattainable? How much is too much?
I don’t think we’re quite there yet. Bikes have gotten a little heavier, so if you want a 16-pound bike, it’ll cost you. They prices haven’t outlandishly for what we get, though. At least, in my personal opinion. I looked at a nice Trek Emonda the other day that was fantastically well appointed for $5,000 with the new Shimano 105 Di2 drivetrain and decent carbon wheels. At 18-pounds, it’s heavier than I’d expect but the price looked quite fair to me… and with the worldwide economic downturn (caused by the way in which Covid was handled by politicians, not just Covid), manufacturers are going to have to start cutting prices to move bikes sooner or later.
One thing is for sure, I’m sure glad I have a full stable. This is a great time for a gravel bike that’ll pull double duty as a road rig with a different set of wheels and tires.
UPDATE: The OMIL pointed out in the comments that he thought the duty on foreign-born bikes was 14%, not 40%. I had to go back to the video and sure enough, the announcer had a bit of a lazy tongue and I misheard 40%… it’s only 14%. Still, that’s an extra $140 per thousand that goes right out the window. That’s a lot better than $400, though!
In Bike Frames, Steel May Be Real, But Can It Compete With Carbon Fiber?
Six months ago, I’d have answered “not a chance” if you’d asked “can a steel bike frame compete with a carbon fiber frame?” That abruptly ended when we bought my wife a 2004 54 cm steel Assenmacher with a 10-speed Campagnolo record drivetrain and I set the thing up with a new stem and handlebar to suit her.
Her reports of how the thing launches when she puts the power to the pedals, when contrasted against her carbon fiber Specialized Alias, had me perplexed. The smile on her face had me convinced I’d been fed some bad information.
My wife’s 18-pound steel Assenmacher next to my 18-1/2-pound carbon fiber Trek 5200 (my Trek is five years older):
Now, there’s no amount of money (that I’m aware of) you can spend that wouldn’t end up with a carbon fiber a pound or more lighter than the steel option in terms of modern bicycles. In fact, I have no doubt my Trek would be a touch lighter than my wife’s Assenmacher if we had the same wheels and components on the different frames. However, I now believe the notion that the steel bike wouldn’t be as responsive has to be tempered for we weekend warriors… and a steel bike can obviously be made exceedingly light with the right groupset.
There’s no question my wife’s bike is lighter than my carbon fiber Trek 5200.
Fit Recovery 