Archive for the ‘STP’ Category

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Inspired by STP, two local women set out to change the women’s bike apparel market

Thursday, May 9th, 2013 by

 “When you go skiing, you don’t ski in a racing suit, so we don’t want our women to ride in a racing suit.” Tonik – real jerseys for real women

Business: Tonik
Owner: Mary Dettrich and Lisa McDermott
Industry: Sportswear

From accomplishing seemingly impossible goals to fostering friendships, the Group Heath Seattle to Portland Bicycle Classic (STP) may have significant impact on people’s lives. For Lisa and Mary, it was the inspiration that made them dive into the competitive market of sportswear to create a company that specializes in bike wear for the everyday woman.

While training for the STP, Lisa and Mary, like so many other women before them, encountered a problem: they tried to buy a cycling jersey but none of them fit right.

“We just couldn’t find a jersey that fit, was comfortable and functional,” said Mary. “We either laughed till our sides ached or wouldn’t come out of the dressing room.”

So, they decided to design one.

Neither of them being seamstresses, Mary and Lisa started out by simply asking, ‘What do we want? What isn’t out there? And what do we need?’ Next they then hired a pattern maker and spent years developing a fit.

“For recreational riding, spandex really is a necessity but in the bicycling world as it stands now, there aren’t a whole lot of products for women. So the market is open,” said Lisa, adding that many women shy away from bike-specific clothing because of ill-fits and designs. “We wanted cycling clothing that functioned on a long ride but you wouldn’t feel silly if you had to walk into a coffee shop.”

Unlike the “pink it, shrink it” method that is so often applied to target women cyclists, Mary and Lisa set out to offer high-quality and highly-functional jerseys intended to meet the needs of women of all shapes and sizes, and to make them feel comfortable while riding.

“When you go skiing, you don’t ski in a racing suit, so we don’t want our women to ride in a racing suit,” Mary stated.

“We want women to move freer and with confidence. You shouldn’t have to worry about what you’re wearing while riding your bike. It makes a difference if you feel good about what you’re wearing,” added Lisa.

By providing women with comfortable gear, Mary and Lisa hope to ultimately get more women on bikes.

“Our goal is to make women feel great when they ride, so they will ride,” said Mary.

“Once you accomplish [a ride], there is no stopping you,” said Lisa. “It makes you realize how powerful you are. We want women to feel like the athlete they are.”

But entering the sports-technical wear hasn’t been easy, said Lisa.

“Sport-technical clothing is a very closed industry. We had to break through a lot of barriers,” she said. “But the reception of our product has been very warming. There’s a big need out there.”

The Tonik product line currently includes jerseys, arm warmers, headbands and socks, and Mary and Lisa hope to expand the line with padded shorts, jackets and sweatshirts.

“We’re hoping to offer a full line of products, but we need to do a lot of sizing and fitting first,” said Mary.

Learn more at http://tonik.myshopify.com/

Bikenomics is a feature series to spotlight the greater Seattle area’s growing bike businesses. Know a business that should be featured? Send me an email at amrook@cascadebicycleclub.org.

 

Posted in Bikenomics, STP, Women ride bikes | 6 Comments »

Rookie’s Perspective on Training for the STP: Week #4: 55 Miles, 2387’ Elevation

Friday, May 3rd, 2013 by

55 miles. That’s the kind of distance where people start to look impressed when you say, “Oh yeah, I rode 55 miles today.”

I need to start training.

I moved from Yellow (12-14 miles an hour) to Green (14-16 miles an hour) for Saturday’s ride from Marymoor out to Snohomish. I was nervous beforehand, but in an excited kind of way, not a dreading kind of way. I was curious about what 55 miles would feel like, but mostly I was looking forward to the route eastwards, to biking somewhere I’d never been before, to getting somewhere.

My subconscious had something to say about the ride: I had a dream the night before that my seven-year-old daughter was joining me on her kid-sized, gearless bike. In the dream I felt a little nervous about how she would manage 55 miles.

But the faster pace was fine and if I hadn’t started in yellow there would be no question about whether I could do it. The only difference between yellow and green that I could notice without a bike computer was that the pace didn’t sag on the hills.

We set out north from Marymoor, rode up and over into the Snohomish River valley, along the valley for a ways, and then up and out of the valley. Almost immediately, we were in old Redmond, riding past old farms and along rolling country roads, the busyness and congestion of the suburbs behind us. We passed a farm where a Bernese Mountain Dog (my first love) watched us with affable alertness and past an oddly jumping cow. I had a feeling I could ride a long, long way on country roads.

Well, except for the hills.

I usually have a good relationship with hills. I like to think of them as flats on an incline. I like the workout, I like getting to the top, I like how there is an end, usually in sight, if you keep pushing with patience. The rides I’m proudest of to date (the Chilly Hilly, the bonus CHEW ride) were hilly rides.

But there’s a chance I might have been a bit, well, overly confident in my climbing abilities. I didn’t get left behind, I didn’t – heaven forbid! – hold up the group but I got pretty tired climbing in and out of that river valley. I ate my emergency Mocha Double Espresso Cliff Shot but it didn’t help, or if it did, I was too tired to tell.

It started to pour around mile 30 and we rode mile after mile in rain. I could feel puddles squishing in my shoes. I hadn’t learned about the visor trick yet (thank you, Lamar!) and the rain dripped from my helmet in salty streams into my mouth. I fantasized about curling up in front of our gas fireplace when I got home.

We don’t have a gas fireplace.

On a very busy, fast, four-lane road back into Redmond, the ride leader signaled for us to take over the right lane and ride abreast with a buddy, even though there was a bike lane. Cars could pass us on the left, so we weren’t holding up traffic. I rode on the inside next to a nice, chatty woman and have never felt safer riding in traffic. I think the drivers out there felt sorry for the pathetic group of drowned rats riding down the highway on bicycles.

And then there was one last hill – not even a big hill – through the last light industrial section before getting back to Marymoor. And I ran out of gas. Rider after rider passed me as I slowly and humbly pulled my way up that damn hill.

When I finally got home, sat in a hot shower, and climbed into bed under the heating blanket on HIGH, I was so tired I felt like crying. So, yeah, I think I need to start taking this mid-week training recommendation more seriously. Next week is 65 miles.

Later that evening as I was putting the chickens to bed, after hosting a dinner party (which is something I’m never doing after a long ride again), I was grateful I didn’t have to get on Blue the next day.

I need to start training.

Kathryn Saxer is currently enrolled in the Cascade Training Series, a 13-week training series designed to prepare Cascade members physically and mentally for  the Group Health STP or RSVP. She’s a personal and professional coach in Seattle. When not learning how to bike long distances, she likes to run in the mountains, share adventures with her 7- and 9-year-old children, and cook terrible dinners for her beloved and long-suffering partner. She’ll be reporting on her CTS journey weekly. 

Posted in Cascade Training Series, Daily Rides, Events, STP | No Comments »

Rookie’s Perspective on Training for the STP: Week 3: 43 Miles, 2000’ Elevation

Friday, April 26th, 2013 by

By mile 40, I’m checking my middle-aged aches and pains:

Back (bulging disc) doesn’t hurt; knees (chondromalacia patella) are a little sore but not painful. At the beginning of Saturday’s ride my elbows hurt, a lot, but by mile 40 I had either acclimated to the pain or they had healed themselves.

So far, so good.

Mentally, Saturday’s ride felt far. Looking at the map beforehand, I felt overwhelmed by the huge loop from Redmond, down Lake Sammamish to Issaquah, west to Lake Washington along I-90 and under 405, north along Lake Washington past Medina and Kirkland, and then somehow we’re in Bothell with a long road back to Marymoor Park. These are places I would usually drive to!

Before setting out into the gray, cold, drizzly morning, I had to remind myself that, so far, I have often dreaded the ride but that the ride is always exhilarating. It helped that I’d written that down a couple of weeks ago, a clear promise to myself that it was worth getting into the car and driving to Marymoor.  It’s funny how easy it is to forget the payoff when faced with 50 miles of gray drizzle.

Our uncanny good weather luck continued to hold, however. (Now I’ve jinxed it!). A cooling mist for the first half of the ride and even some sunshine by our second rest stop. So far, we haven’t had to ride in driving rain.

Rest stops are about every dozen miles and are a prompt 10 minutes each. Which is not a lot of time when you have to wait in line for a toilet to get rid of that big cup of coffee you drank on the drive over to Marymoor. “I have to decide between peeing and eating,” I joked after the ride.

But, again, I appreciated the punctuality of the CTS leaders and floats, keeping us moving and on task.

“Rolling out in one minute,” a float called as I gulped down the last of my hard-boiled egg covered in hemp seed hearts and nutritional yeast.

 “Is that a piece of fish?” a fellow rider asked, eyeing my weird food dubiously.

I explained that it was one of my chicken’s eggs and immediately connected with another urban chicken owner. We tried to chat about chickens but it’s tough to talk while biking on a highway.

This ride was called the “Eastside Urban Loop” and I am weary of riding in traffic. Cars are terrifying and I don’t need to ride on Coal Creek Parkway on a bicycle again anytime soon. I’m looking forward to quiet country backroad scenery, to mountains and farmland and river valleys.

At about mile 30, one of the floats led a splinter group off at a faster pace. From the back, I watched them take off and remember thinking, “Damn, now I get to feel guilty for choosing to go slow.” Nevertheless, at the next regrouping, I found myself taking off with them.

It felt so good to go faster. Freeing.  Happy, even on a busy Eastside parkway. Those ten miles, up a big hill, were the most fun I had all ride.

At the debriefing at the end of the ride, our ride leader suggested in no uncertain terms that those of us who took off should consider riding Green (14-16 miles an hour) next week.

Yellow #1, I feel like I’m cheating on you but I think I might try Green. It’s me, not you. You’ve been a wonderful place to get started (thank you Wayne the Ride Leader and Mark the Safety Guy and all the floats) but I think I need to ride faster.

Can we still be friends, particularly if I get left behind with a sore back, knees and elbows on next Saturday’s 55-mile Green ride out the country roads to Snohomish?

Kathryn Saxer is currently enrolled in the Cascade Training Series, a 13-week training series designed to prepare Cascade members physically and mentally for  the Group Health STP or RSVP. She’s a personal and professional coach in Seattle. When not learning how to bike long distances, she likes to run in the mountains, share adventures with her 7- and 9-year-old children, and cook terrible dinners for her beloved and long-suffering partner. She’ll be reporting on her CTS journey weekly. 

Posted in Cascade Training Series, STP | 2 Comments »

Rookie’s Perspective on Training for the STP: Week 2: 35 Miles, 1200’ Elevation

Friday, April 19th, 2013 by

I love it when the weather forecast shows this:

when I’m looking at this:

CTS ride #2 looped around Mercer Island from Magnuson Park — about 35 miles with 1,200 feet of climbing. I’d been fighting — and losing — a head cold all week and was not delighted with the prospect of biking in a thunderstorm with a stuffy nose and cough, still bleery from a dose of Nyquil. I spent the first hour of the ride bitching and moaning to myself until I got some calories at our first rest stop and realized it was a gorgeous day around me, regardless of what my weather app was saying.

Yellow 1 rolled out of Magnuson Park parking lot promptly at 9 a.m. (I’m loving that about CTS: none of the chronic tardi-creep that afflicts every organization I’ve ever worked or played in.) The morning was blustery and cold; I bet the guy parked next to me that it would rain. It sure felt like rain. But as we rode down the Burke Gilman trail, through the back of the UW, through Montlake and over the I-90 bridge, the sun began to break through the clouds. By the time we were on Mercer Island, it was sunny. Not a thunderstorm in sight.


View over Lake Washington and the I-90 bridge

I was curious about the route around Mercer Island. A couple of weeks earlier I rode it by myself and got lost making my way to the eastern side of the island. Flustered with riding my bike while looking at the directions, I unclipped to figure out where I was. Unfortunately, I unclipped a different foot than the one I tried to put down on the curb and keeled over in that ridiculous, slow motion, oh shit! biker’s fall. Banged myself up pretty good, which I was very brave about at the time.

I didn’t fall this time around the island, despite the best efforts of the treacherously slippery turtles marking the shoulder around the blind, hilly curves. I eventually found myself riding at the back of the group with the sweep — and discovered that it is a lot quieter back there. The middle of the group is busy yelling hazards, which is clearly the right thing to do and which I try to enthusiastically participate in, but I find it kind of stressful and shout-y. Much quieter tooling along in the back.


Our intrepid ride leader directs us on what to expect in the next stretch

This ride’s sweep asked me if I were Kathryn and said he’d read my blog post about last week’s ride. I asked him if he recognized the bike, since there are a lot of us and Blue is a lovely bike. He said he recognized my bicycle pump. Not sure what I think about my bike pump being more memorable than either myself or Beautiful Blue!

The last time I rode around Mercer Island, I had to drag myself up and over the last hilly stretch; this time I felt strong — if sniffly — all the way around. I’ve started gauging my biking fitness by what point I still think I’m going to run errands after I finish the ride. Mile 15 I’m still thinking I going to the grocery store; last week at mile 20 I was sure I was going to a fuchsia sale at the Center for Urban Horticulture — but couldn’t get out of the car. I was able to rally after this ride and go to the CUH’s plant sale and buy two hardy geraniums.

“Are you wiped?” my partner texted me after the ride. “Nope, just tired,” I replied, and then didn’t get up the rest of the day. The geraniums can plant themselves another time.

With a head cold, I can’t say l felt particularly grateful during the ride, other than to be glad not to be riding in a thunderstorm. It was only later, at home, looking at the photos I took of the ride, that I noticed to be grateful for this extraordinarily beautiful city that I often take for granted as I bike and run and live in it.


A beautiful day for a ride — even with a head cold!
 

Kathryn Saxer is currently enrolled in the Cascade Training Series, a 13-week training series designed to prepare Cascade members physically and mentally for  the Group Health STP or RSVP. She’s a personal and professional coach in Seattle. When not learning how to bike long distances, she likes to run in the mountains, share adventures with her 7- and 9-year-old children, and cook terrible dinners for her beloved and long-suffering partner. She’ll be reporting on her CTS journey weekly. 

Posted in Events, STP, Women ride bikes | No Comments »

Rookie’s Perspective on Training for the STP: Week 1: 28 Miles, 1160’ Elevation

Friday, April 12th, 2013 by

I knew it was going to be good when I saw the sign at the entrance to the park:

CTS Parking

Professionally printed, clear logo, easy to read. This is going to be a well-organized, thought-through event, I thought as I followed the signs into the parking lot for the first CTS ride.

“Good morning!” the gentleman in the yellow ride leader jersey called to me from the next car.

Friendly, too, I thought as I smiled hello.

I was very early for that first morning of STP training. I’ve been chronically late to all my pre-training rides, stressed and scrambling with the details of riding a bike: helmet and sunglasses and bike shoes and water and food and bike rack and pumping the tires. Different from running, where all I need is a jog bra, a pair of shoes (maybe), and my dog.

This biking thing has lots of details to keep track of.

I was bound and determined to be early and calm and ready to go for my first CTS ride. It does not, however, take an hour to drive from Seward Park, where I live, to Magnuson Park, where the ride started. So I had plenty of time to hang out in the cold morning wind and recheck my list:

• Tires pumped
• Helmet
• Glasses (clear and tinted)
• Bike shoes
• Booties
• Hat
• Food
• Water
•  Gloves (warm and fingerless)
• Cue sheet
• Phone
• Tampons
• Ibu
• Car locked
• Headlights off

I typed out that list a couple of weeks ago after I arrived late to a 40-mile ride out to Black Diamond and forgot sunglasses. My eyeballs still don’t feel right. I was so stressed about being late that morning that I forgot to lock the car. And then paused my GPS app rather than starting it. I wanted none of that drama for this first ride.

Calm and freezing, I was ready to go when my group, Yellow #1, rolled out of the parking lot, right on time. I thought about the proverb: the longest journey starts with the first step. I don’t care if it’s cliché: I was thrilled to be taking that first step with this group of riders around me.

Unfortunately for me, that first step was a ride to Seward Park, where I’d just driven from. “Hey Wayne!” I called to my ride leader when we stopped at Seward Park. “I live a half mile up the hill. You all want to come over for coffee?” Wouldn’t my partner have been surprised.

“Maybe next time,” he yelled back.

Prior to the start of CTS, I agonized over whether to sign up for Yellow (12-14 miles an hour) or Green (14-16 miles an hour). I asked lots of experienced riders and got all kinds of conflicting advice:

“Stretch yourself, you don’t want to be bored,” to “Every ride will be the farthest you’ve ever ridden, don’t make it the fastest, too.” I tried riding too far, too fast on a training ride and hated the weepy, frustrated feeling of being left behind. So I’ve decided to ride Yellow.

Riding in Yellow #1 was like a comfortable jog. Just right for distance, which will be stretch enough once we get to 60, 70, and 100 miles. I’m in the right group.

There are about 20 of us in Yellow #1 including ride leader, sweep, and many floats. Many, many floats. Did I already say there were a lot of floats?

As we headed south toward my stomping grounds, I felt a bit, well, like I was on a well-chaperoned field trip. When my pump fell off for some reason (note to self: stop when the bike makes a new noise), three men stopped to watch me Velcro it back on and tell me I did it wrong. Which I appreciated, but it is a bit intimidating to fix my bike with an audience.

I don’t like the feeling of being chaperoned and so I practiced feeling appreciative instead:

I appreciated feeling looked after and supported; I appreciated knowing people will stop and help if my bike breaks; I appreciated learning a new route through the backside of the UW; I appreciated the safety lesson about not riding so closely to parked cars; I appreciated the friendliness of the other riders; I appreciated how pretty the ride was; I appreciated that the rain started as we were pulling back into the parking lot at the end of the ride.

Most of all, I appreciated how easily my legs and my bike rolled over those 28 miles in the chilly spring weather. I can’t wait for next week’s ride.

Kathryn Saxer is currently enrolled in the Cascade Training Series, a 13-week training series designed to prepare Cascade members physically and mentally for  the Group Health STP or RSVP. She’s a personal and professional coach in Seattle. When not learning how to bike long distances, she likes to run in the mountains, share adventures with her 7- and 9-year-old children, and cook terrible dinners for her beloved and long-suffering partner. She’ll be reporting on her CTS journey weekly. 

Posted in Cascade Training Series, Events, STP, Women ride bikes | 2 Comments »

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