It’s amazing how quickly a Pavlovian response can develop. Just 30 minutes ago, the end of an interval effort would have elicited great relief, a time to rest and regroup. But now as the clock on the computer screen in front of me ticks toward the end of another four-minute burst, relief has been replaced by the nervous tension that precedes inevitable pain.

Remember how you felt as a child watching the family doctor make final adjustments to one of those it-will-only-sting-for-a-second shots? Well, I’m right back there as I wait for Boulder Center for Sports Medicine exercise physiologist Paul Kammermeier to administer the umpteenth prick to the tip of my increasingly bruised right index finger.

Kammermeier and I are in the middle of conducting a lactate profile test on yours truly, and frankly I’m ready to take a failing grade and move on. But in the interest of finding out how I measure up against the likes of Boonen and Bettini, and establishing baseline measures to be used for training during the coming cycling season, I suffer on, cringing at the sharp snapping sound that accompanies each blood-drawing prick.

While I pedal away on a stationary bike situated near the south-facing window of the lab’s expansive testing room, Kammermeier is taking my blood to analyze how much lactic acid is pulsing through my body at successively harder efforts. He started me out at 100 watts of resistance, then bumped up the pain in 25-watt increments until I hit my personal wall at 250. But none of that really matters right now; I just want him to leave my damn finger alone.

This is the last place – both physically and mentally – I figured I’d be when I signed on to be coached by Neal Henderson, BCSM’s sports science manager and one of Boulder, Colorado’s top cycling coaches. My imagination crafted images of inspirational pep talks, detailed training plans, and most importantly, putting the wood to my weekend riding buddies.

Isn’t that what’s supposed to happen when your personal mentor also trains the likes of junior world champ Taylor Phinney, first-year Jelly Belly pro Scott Tietzel, and a bunch of other elite types who could drop me on the way out of the driveway?

The short answer is possibly, eventually. But first, as Henderson explained, he needed to look at how my body responded to different intensities of effort. That would give him an idea of what my maximum sustainable – or lactate threshold – power is. Henderson also ordered a VO2 max test (the size of your aerobic engine), FUEL test (how your body fuels exercise), and a hellish 30-second, pedal-as-hard-as-you-can exam called a Wingate test, which measures max anaerobic power.

The purpose in all cases is to get an idea of where I stand now, which in turn will allow Henderson to map out my training program.

Neal Henderson in his operations center.

“Combined together these tests give a nice array as to what is going on inside your body,” explained Henderson, who conducted a similar battery of tests on riders of the U.S.-based Toyota-United team at their January training camp, and runs a program with the Colorado Avalanche where younger players are tested twice a year and veterans once. “It’s something I’d definitely recommend for any endurance athlete. It allows you to pinpoint training zones and measure performance increases over time.”

It also gives an idea of how you stack up against the rest of the world, which in my case is right about in the middle. My lactate threshold, the point during exercise when lactic acid rapidly begins to accumulate in the blood, is 3.2 watts per kilogram. According to a chart Henderson provided, that puts me smack in the middle of my usual Cat. 4 competitors, and well below the Cat. 3s.

Further up the scale, a Cat.1 is typically 4.5 or greater, with pros usually registering above 5. As for the far upper end, remember it was the infamous Dr. Michele Ferrari who said in the book “Lance Armstrong’s War” that 6.7 is the magic number required to win the Tour de France. How he proposed getting there is another story.

The good news is that with some intelligent and hard training, my threshold number can be raised. Clearly I’ll never win the Tour, but a category upgrade remains remotely possible.

The story is similar for VO2 max. I topped out at 51.5, which in my 30-39 age group straddles “good” and “high” on a scale that also includes “low”, “fair,” “average,” “athletic” and “Olympic.” Younger “Olympic” types are typically above 70, and our boy Lance was reportedly in the 85 range.

The good news again is that there’s room for improvement, but it’s much less than with lactate threshold because VO2 max is generally considered a genetic trait.

I didn’t get any comparison data on the Wingate test, but when I asked Kammermeier how Tom Boonen would rate, he just laughed and said, “We’d need a lot bigger a gear because he’d start where you finished.”

So the green jersey is also out of the question. For the record my max watts was 1172, and I averaged 706 for 30 seconds, which incidentally felt like 30 minutes.

About a week after my test session, I sat down with Henderson to go over all my numbers. It was an interesting experience, reminiscent of college when you’d get an important exam back. My grade this time?

“Well number one, you look like a normal human, maybe even a little above average,” Henderson explained. “For your age you come in at a good level. You’re not rating athletic or Olympic, but you are above average for your age.”

Sounds like a “B” to me, which is what usually happened in college – minus the finger pricks.

Check back in the ensuing weeks to find out what happens when we put these numbers to the test with some real-world testing and then develop a training plan.

Editor’s note: Jason Sumner is a freelance writer and Cat. 4 bike racer who is working with a cycling coach for the first time in his life. Sumner’s 2008 goals include improving on his usual mid-pack finishes, not getting dropped on weekend group rides, and learning something along the way. He’ll be documenting his experiences for VeloNews.com in this twice-monthly column.)

Neal Henderson (http://www.bch.org/sportsmedicine/science.cfm/Staff%20Biographies) is sports science manager at the Boulder Center for Sports Medicine and a well-regarded elite-level coach. Henderson’s clients include Slipstream-Chipotle’s Taylor Phinney, Jelly Belly’s Scott Tietzel and Trish Downing, a nationally ranked paraplegic athlete. Henderson is also the winter triathlon coach for the U.S. national triathlon team. His coaching philosophy is based on "integrating science with what is practical and proven because we don’t live in laboratories, and no one ever won a world championship medal for a lab performance.” He is working with Jason Sumner on a pro bono basis. If you’d like to ask Henderson a question, please send e-mail to CoachNealQandA@gmail.com. He’ll answer select questions in ensuing columns.