Oh!

While I might not believe all the hype surrounding the new "Newton", their compostable flowerpot shoebox alone might be enough incentive to try a pair.

Race Report #10.

Didn't happen. Too sick...still. I'm sooo depressed. All you snot are belong to us. I also just got word that the stairs are back for this weekends series ending race. I'll open a vein if I'm not well enough.
Grrrrr!

Never say "Never"!

I loathe Barbie as much as the next person. Even I bit more so now that I have two girls and never-ever-ever want them to be exposed to the evil...until now.

From AWESOME to not so much. Race Report #9

I have an EVIL cold. Not evil as in symptomatically heinous, I mean evil as in conniving, plotting, and decieving. You see, it didn't really act like a cold. As a matter of fact it masqueraded as soemthing else entirely. My youngest had the sniffles on Thurs or Friday and I had them on Saturday, but they weren't that bad. I was convinced it was some freak late season pollen spike...in December. Yeah, that makes sense. Sunday, my warm up was so-so, but again I managed to rationalize it away. On the crux of the start lap, 20-30 meters of uphill woodchips following another 300 meters of climbing, I was running 6th, then 5th as Lambert went down in the switchback. I was stoked. 1st decent start of the season! I lost a spot in the transition. No worries. I'll get it back in the sand I thought. I ran the beach, remounted and watched the lead group power away. No worries. I'll make it up on the backside I told myself. Then I heard laughter. Tiny little laughing voices. "Horton Hears a Who-We are Here" tiny. and *SNAP* It was over that fast. Through the course of the race I was demoralized 10 more times as I went from 6th to 17th and could do nothing to prevent the hemorrhaging. All the while, I had to listen to the chorus of rhinovirus laughing from within. Little bastards. It wasn't the race I'd hoped for. I was still in denial until I got home. I was shattered. Twice as exhausted as the week before when I pushed WAY harder. Then I felt the sore throat. Ah well. at least I gots me an excuse. Thanks for the pics Jon

"Be the ball Danny..." Race Report #8

Ah, Golden Gate Park. The crown jewel of the BASP series (my personal favs are still some of the old Surf City courses, but that's another post). It's got great flow and on this day, nearly perfect conditions. Sunny but cool with a nice tacky surface thanks to some mid-week rain. I didn't feel great during warmup, but I never feel great so I try not to let it bother me. I somehow managed to not pay attention and got myself boxed in at the startline. After the whistle, I pushed my way up though the pack into decent position as we hit the bottle neck right hander some 300 meters in. This is where the foot deep loam enters the picture. The proverbial 'crux' as it were.... Pure CHAOS. I mean really, come on fellas. A sage old crosser once told me. "Always hit the crappy lines in warm-up. Any idiot can ride a good line." I took a 'crappy' line (all the 'good' lines were taken), passed about 5 riders in as many meters, nearly sideswiped some poor soul going ass-over-teakettle, then got tangled w/ my own teammate, Jesus, who for some reason thought he could fit between me and the course tape rubbing against my arm. I watched in slow motion as his pedal slipped under my chain and gingerly threw it off. CRAP!!!! quick shift....Pedal. Oh crap. Not working....ABORT. Plan B! Get off, relax and put the chain back on. I remount and look up to see the back of the bus some 75 meters up the trail. Brilliant! From 10th to last in less the 50 seconds. It's at this moment I remembered Jaybird and a race nearly 20 years ago. *Flashback*. It's the late 80's. Jaybird and I are racing MTB full on. It's all we do and we are boring as hell to be around as a result.But the Jaybird is FAST. Wicked FAST. I quietly hate him for it and often think of suffocating him as he sleeps in what tries to pass for a bed in those crap motels we stay in. Unfortunately, he's funny, a fellow geek/nerd traveler and best friend so I'm obliged to let him live and beat me yet again. It's the heyday of mountain biking and the fields are large, even for a local race like this. On this particular day, I'm recovering from the flu so the Chowderhead and I are just working support. Jay is holding the winning ticket but the hole shot is critical. Some 86 experts are on the line. 50 meters after the start is a left turn up a hill. Another 100 meters up then a right turn into the single track...and we're talking Michigan single track. It's top 5 or certain death. Jay jumps hard at the gun. Chowderhead and I are 50 meters up the hill and we see Jaybird charge it, bumpin' and bangin' in 2nd or 3rd position when WHAM! he's down...and hard. I'm still not sure what happened. He jumps up and looks O.K, but his brakes are fubar'd and his bars are twisted. By the time he sorts himself out, the last of the 85 enter the woods. He's sailoring up a storm and is this close (o.k. squeeze your thumb and index finger together tight) to throwing it in. At that very instant, the Chowderhead and I share a horrific thought. We've got a 4 hour bitch fest of a drive home if he doesn't get back on the bike! We WonderTwin it and shout in stereo. "GET ON THE F#CKING BIKE!" To our amazement it works. Jaybird scowls at us, jumps on and takes off. Now if I recall, The race was prolly 1:30-1:45 long. Laps were maybe 15 minutes. The course was a clover leaf so we could keep tabs on Jaybird from a central locale. About 5 minutes after the start, the riders came out of the wood and up a mid-ring climb about 200-300 meters long. By the time we see Jaybird shoot into the clearing, there's a lot of laundry already strung out on it, seated but pushing hard. Jaybird however is outta the saddle, in the MEAT, and just drilling it. His face all fury and rage as if Fortuna herself had descended upon him back there at the start and he was determined to shrug her off. He passes 20 riders! The Chowderhead and I are convulsing w/ laughter. The next lap is a near fascimile, less a few riders a bit more strung on the line. As each lap passes, Jaybird catches riders on that climb. When the storm clears, General Sherman...er...Jaybird has layed waste to nearly everything in his path and sits 4th (maybe 5th). *end flashback*. So it was with this image that I set out on my quest. Now, I don't have that kind of anger in me, and neither does Jaybird anymore thank heavens, so I was pleased to pull back just 11 of the 29 that lay ahead plus a handfull of 35 A's. I felt as good on the bike as I've felt all season. I'm almost as pleased about my placing as I am about that through some unbelievable chance, there's even a photo of the gaffe!

Race Report #7. That was fun...but it couldza a been more funner

There's a first for everything. Today at LARPD, the SS entries outnumbered the A's. And this time Cheetah was on hand. He's the series leader so I was looking forward(or not) to see how I'd stack up and to see how my new training plan was working. It goes something like this. Train hard, get sick, race poorly, take week off, race well. Rinse and repeat. When the whistle blew, Cheetah, myself and Ace (one of the A's) hit the front a got a quick gap. The legs, they had good sensations and with some much lucky, maybe a good race. I saw no need to push it too much as we built a good cushion on lap 2. It was shaping up to be a fun race. I could tell Cheetah and I were riding about the same so we began toying with each other a bit to see who had what where. Then I thoughtI noticed my front tire getting squirrely. I rode lap 3 in denial: "it's not going flat...it's not going flat. then lap 4 trying to will air into the tire. Ace and Cheetah had gone to the front but didn't really jump until I hit the pit. Thanks for not attacking earlier when y'ins knew I was running on about 5 psi (It took awhile for the sealant to do it's thing I guess). That was classy. Jesus met me for a wheel change...smooth as butter...Thanks Bro! but it still took about 15 seconds. Cheetah gassed it w/ Ace and I could never make up the ground. Too bad. It was going to be a battle. Cheetah has the series locked up. I missed too many races, but we both were bummed about the flat and I hope he shows up just to keep things interesting!

Race Report #6. From bad to worse.

This race started off w/ bad karma nearly from the minute I pulled into the parking lot. All the main lots were full as my race was the 2nd to last of the evening and given the carnival atmosphere that is nighttime cross, no one was going anywhere. I pulled into a nearby office building, parked and started to get my gear ready. I pulled my bike of the car and w/o really thinking, leaned the rear tire against the bumper of the car next to me. I pulled out my B-day gift (thanks Zank!) and began to inflate the tires. Mr and Mrs C&C D roll up and Mr C yells (not politely mind you) "Hey, That's My CAR!" as if I'm about to boost his stereo. I reply in kind w/ a not so polite. "Relax" and moved my bike away. He then demands an apology. I'm a little dumb struck by this but manage a "Sorry dude, it's only a tire". "Exactly!" he says, which dumbfounds me still further. What kind of life does one live if someones tire on your bumper at a bike race stresses you out like that. Now over the past 4 or 5 years, despite racing in probably 30 or 40 of the same races, those words are the sum total of our interactions. I'm not hopeful for a budding friendship. Such a strange exchange from such a strange little man. And in case you were wondering, it was a Mazda MPV. Oh yeah, the race itself. Well if that little interlude didnt' leave a bad taste in my mouth, the dust cloud that enveloped our race certainly did. I was still caughing up bits of Brisbace at 11:00p.m. I didn't feel great all day and it foreshadowed the race. The course was short, dusty, and bumpy w/ zero recovery. 4:30-5:00 minute lap times were going to be the norm. Not really my cup of tea, but c'est la cross. I actually had a really good start, passing people easily and running as high as 8th before the lights went out. I suddenly had no answer for any of the surges that soon followed. I was suffering pretty bad when I saw 5 to go, and really thought of heading for the car. I still have know idea how I managed a mid-pack finish. I'm sure I owe it all to mechanicals or bad lap scoring. In retrospect, I was sick and didnt' know it. The whole family was feeling it on Sunday with one kid even throwing up. It's Tuesday as I write this and I still feel like I was thrown under a bus. It could be worse...my initials could be C.D.

thanks photoblake

Why Cross Rulz #51...and Race Report #5

So I'm pre-riding the course with JohnnyGreenGiant as he is cooling down after just taking 2nd in the 35A's. I'm racing SS today with the Open A's and I'm rolling around on some file treads I raced here a few weeks back. Today though, the course has nothing in common w/ that speedway. The fast grassy sections have been replaced by sand the the long straights have been balled up in a knot. I'm tip-toeing through every corner....and I didn't bring any other wheels cause I decided to sleep instead of glueing them up late into the night. JGG offers his front wheel to me. A flexus glued up on 58mm of C14 heaven. That's cross for ya. Complete strangers will hand you the sweetest set up to flog without thinking twice. I politely declined, but did accept his offer of a pit wheel, a clincher running a racing ralph. Hallelujah!. The rear still had a mind of it's own but the front was cooperating nicely. The SS field is never big at this series, but I tell myself in a Nietzsche-esque sort of way that it's good training. Lots of curves, lots of sand, lots of barriers. Even a six-pack on this one. Oh, did I mention that I also decided to run a taller gear (that's me in the photo showing the gearing I chose) as I was often spun out on those long straights last time. Well, I was able to stay mid-pack w/ the A's until the gear began to expand. What started out as a 42x17 somehow ended up as a 215x17. I was caught w/ two to go, hung on for a lap as the attacks started then got dropped half way through the last lap...ARGGGH. I still managed to hang on for the win in the SS cat, but was further down in the A's than I should have been if had I turned myself inside out (which I'm not wont to do). I won't mention the size of the SS pack, or the fact that half of them had also raced earlier in the day. A win is a win is a win and at this stage of the game, I'll take 'em as they come.

The Stick....Race Report #4

I hate the 'stick' almost as much as Mclaren. It's a dusty, bumpy, power course. I few days of rain leading up, however, can work miracles, even on that wretch of a course. I wasn't sure how things were going to go. I had gotten the flu two weeks back which forced me to miss the Halloween Surf City race. I still haven't gotten over that loss. It's my favorite race of the season and the last course I ever won on....*sigh*. Anywho, Leading up to this race, I had to scale back the training block. The course as I said is bumpy and twisty save for a long road stretch. The rain at least made it sticky and Flexus @ 30psi hooked well. My start was not great, but not bad yet the legs felt a little sluggish and didnt' have the punch necessary to push through the 35 A traffic we start catching midway through the first lap. It took a good two laps for them to loosen up and to accelerate on demand. By that time, Jesus had caught me and we rode half a lap until he bogged down a bit on the run section and I went on by. To be honest, I really wasn't paying much attention to the race up front. I had my eye on Cornbeef, gaining on my six. So I have to say I was a bit suprised when I rolled up to a 4-pack as we hit the long paved section on the last lap. I quick glance and I saw three #5xx series numbers. My race series. Holy Crap, a 4 up sprint.
Now, let me remind y'all, I haven't been in this situation in quite some time....and I run a "junior" cluster in the rear (14-25) leaving me w/ a top 44x14. I honestly didn't ever think I'd need much more. I had about 3 seconds to contemplate my navel. Dan jumped 1st to see who'd come out to play and George bit hard. I jumped George's wheel. I was in a good gear to accelerate up, but it was also the same gear I'd have to run the last 100 meters with and. could. not.come...around. Missed it by a tire width. That's racing. It was a good all things considered. I'm looking forward to Goldden Gate. I just need to stay healthy.

NYS.

Sven and I have something in common. Unfortunately, it's not the engine.

Consumate V's! I just wet myself...

So true, so funny,so many levels. Mclaren in a nutshell. PuddinPie, you slay me!

Speedvagen 2008...Can I get any better than this?

I bet it can, if the 2008 model is any indication. Gone is the beautiful, yet not as functional stainless seatcap. The new seatcap is far simpler and more functional. Kudos. The teardtop tt has been replaced by a sleeker and sexier one. I'm sure there's some weight savings and performance improvement in there somewhere, but I just like looking at it! The ride is just perfect. And the paint...er....powder. Dear God. All I can say is Sacha's really screwed himself this time. This years "Suprise me" is going to be hard to top. Then again, I've learned not to 2nd guess the man.

The nitpick: no post of mine would be complete without some sort of complaint. Come on Sacha! We speedvageneers want our own headbadge...and dropouts...and custom cross stems!
So There (sticks out tongue)!

Some Sad, Some Happy. Race Report #3.

The local: Mclaren Park. The course: Super-sucky: My results: not Super-sucky, just sucky.
Let's get one thing straight, I hate this course...well, most of it. I do like the run-up, but it's still far too bumpy/climby for my taste. That being said, my placing doesn't reflect my hindsight-reality. I started slow, didn't foresee the inevitable traffic jam of the 35+A's which only started about 20 seconds in front of us, and did the unthinkable...cased a barrier, tripped, and arrested my fall by augering my front wheel, twisting my bars 90 degrees. I also dropped a chain!Dammit! Those barriers are my f-ing bread&butter. It also came at the end of lap 1, so everyone was still flying and I dropped about 6-8 places in no time. It took another lap just to get a rhythm back. On the plus side, I know I can push harder. I know I'm not peaking yet. I'm looking forward to GGP. The flexus hooked up well and I pushed them pretty hard on the 1st crazyass left sweeping descent. Glad I let out a 5psi at the start.

• Things of Note: Rhoda raced the 35+ A, then had 10, maybe 15 minutes to suck some water and GU's before jumping in to the SS race. I'm there consolling my sorry ass and he's out doubling. I'm feeling so small.
• The Fox score a much deserved podium. I wish he raced for Team Oakland. hint hint.
  
• And speaking of Team Oakland, I just want to say thanks. It's such a great team. It's full of people who put in far more time and work that I can, yet give me ZERO grief. Just the opposite as a matter of fact. I arrive w/ only enough time to warm-up for my race and I can never stick around and help out as the guilt of leaving my wife w/ the two tasmanian devils starts to bear down on me. I'm always packing up my crap and clearing out as if my P.O. was coming. Just as I'm getting ready to leave, ToysRus hands me a hot Brat wrapped in a waffle, I little something for the road. Can I get an Amen!

15 seconds is a lifetime. Race Report #2

It's been almost a month to the day since my last race, which as you may recall, I was telling myself it was. I felt so bad during that when is was over, I just wanted to have a yard sale and be done with it. Well, I knew in the recesses of my brain that I was never serious, but it sure was therapeutic to entertain the idea of a life of competitive Boggle for a while anyway. The arrival of the Speedvagen SS also might have had something to do with the lifting my spirits. That thing should put a smile on anyone's face. It sure did on mine. Who cares how I ended up. It's just such a nice bike to ride. Anyway. I built up the bike and got ready to do my 2nd ever SS race. I really love SS cross bikes, and I ride them a fair amount during the off season. Racing them on the other hand seamed a little, well, nuts. I know that sounds silly for anyone who already races cross, but come on...SS in a splinter group from an already disfunctional family. It turns out I picked a good race to test the waters though as no one showed! Since the 1st NCNCA Cup race was the following day, few people were willing to double up. Only 3 of us lined up w/ the A's on SS rigs. Puddinpie and I were so busy chatting about that fact that we missed the start whistle. Super Genius. In all I rode a pretty clean race with one small hypoxic bobble, and only overextended my self a half dozen times, managing 2nd. Not sure how that would hold up in a "real" field, but hey, the depth of my ego is Mariana deep.

What I learned:

• Another 15 minutes of racing (I'm use to 45) felt like, well another 15 minutes of suffering for which my legs said they were not contractually obliged to complete. I offered to pay overtime, even doubletime and a half, and only when I offered copious massages did they grudgingly agree, but only at a pace of their choosing.
  
• 15 seconds is a lifetime on SS: A teammate was yelling my gap for the last half of the race. No matter how deep I dug, or how pathetically I tried to up the tempo, there the gap stayed. "Attacking" by going from 90 to 105 rpm may not look like much, but it hursts like hell.
• Don't have an SS tubby set built yet so I ran the new Vittoria Cross VN and loved it on all but the really loose stuff. I'll be picking up some Challenge XS soon.
  
• Puddinpie is right. Take away the gears and you can really concentrate on the race, the course, the transitions, the 15 second gap! It helped take my mind off the leg cramps.
• I GOTTA get my spin back.
• Cheers to Shane. The new course is fun. I do miss the run ups, but the grass section is a blast.
  

"Surprise You"!

Now it's your turn. I've already been surprised. Here she is...a little Evil K, a little Capt. America and some PBR thrown in for good measure. God Bless Sacha!

I am Legend.

I went to Interbike at the last minute. I didn't plan on posting much about it as many other websters seem to make a career out of it these days ... and have much better cameras. However there were two incidents that I just couldn't help reflecting on. 1st, there was Lance. It was post press conference (plenty on *that* little floor show elsewhere) and he was steamrolling across the show floor w/ a pesky swarm on his heels. A few booth mannequins swooned as he went by. He was not smiling. Then there was Eddie. I'd seen him earlier in the day, doing his damndest to look interested, but looking more like he wished to just open a vein and end it all. It was closing time and the lights had just been shut off. A polite reminder to clear the hell out. I was waiting for a friend when he came walking by alone. Just himself, his briefcase and a nicely tailored blue suit. We made eye contact and I smiled bowed my head in polite reverence . He smiled back. Now don't get me wrong. I'm a Lance fan, albeit a guarded one. But Eddie is in a class by himself.

Speedvagen SS "Surprise Me"!

Well, It's Here! All I can say it HOT DAMN! I'm still smiling. More pics when it's built, but here's the closest approximation I can find.

Amen Brother!

*nicked from BKW* Go read the whole thing.

"Serve some good beer and frites at a cross race (legally) and you will quickly fill the woods with raving fans. It will take them a few years to know what they are screaming about, but it will work out eventually."

Keith Bontrager, 2004

Bike for Sale....a.k.a. Race Report, 9.13.2008

No matter what kind of pathetic shape I'm in or how long it's been since I've last saddled up, some part of my reptilian brain always believes it can win. It's a sad and clinically delusional fact, but a fact none the less. So the shellacking I took yesterday was an exceptionally large and bitter pill. I've tried to console myself w/ several rationalizations; It's early in the season. I'm not supposed to be rockin' the casbah. I was also pretty darn sick the week before and a bit overtrained. The night before the race I was feeling shaggy but figured I'd see how I felt in the morning. Well, morning came and I was feeling o.k. It wasnt' going to be 100 degrees so I thought I'd head to the course. I had fairly low expectations ( well, as I said mentioned earlier, my brain stem still had high hopes), but I was not prepared for the ego-nuke. I started slow and got slower. I wasn't like I was feeling bad. That would have provided a convenient out. Instead, I couldn't pedal. No power. HR ballistic. WTF!?!?!? I know I'm in much better shape than the previous year, but it was my worst showing in years. I've sacrificed a lot these past few months and at present, it feels like a waste. I mean I wasnt' in the mix from the gun. Oops. I'm not suppose to think about guns.

There's a new cx book in town.

Scott Mares has decided to take on Simon Burney. His new book will be out Sept. 1st. I just finished reading the example chapter and was dissapointed to not finding a single mention of a 'rear mech' or ' embrocation'. So far, It's Simon 1, Scott 0.

Hey, let's be careful out there. [Esterhaus]

From The East Bay Express:

So That's Why People Live in Piedmont

Between 7 a.m. and 3 p.m. on July 5, Piedmont police records show reports of a house being egged, a loud leaf-blower, a blocked driveway, two off-leash dogs, a car parked too long, "a suspicious person carrying a plastic bag," a dead rat, and a dead cat. That's it. Within those same hours in Oakland, police records show five shootings, an assault with a deadly weapon, three armed robberies, a strong-arm robbery, an assault with a deadly weapon, and an unexplained death. That's it.

Gypin' N Rippin! The Shops. Part 1.

Schultzie,a good buddy of mine, and former bike rat coworker, reminded me of a bike shop episode that begged for blogging...and he's right, it's priceless, but it will have to wait. It got me thinking of where it all began, back in this tired old rag of a neighborhood in Detroit, at the indefatigable G & R Bike shop. The Frenchman bought the place from the original owners who had decided there was more money to be had in gas stations and rep'ing. They gave the Frenchman, then a current employee, terms he couldn't refuse, and he found himself the sole owner and proprieter. I don't think he was yet 24 at the time (I plan on confiming this...). The was one small catch. The name had to stay. Now, as I said, this was kinda sad little section of Detroit, circa 1979. Not rough in the gangbanger sense, people generally just trying to get by, but pretty rough around the edges. Petty theft was an everyday occurace and everyone of age in the shop was packing or had one at the ready. Not a single bike on the floor had pedals installed thus ensuring a fair foot race if one should suddently find legs. During the summers, an endless parade of yoots loitered in the shop, killin' time and hassling us for sport. Once in a while they'd buy a patch kit. Mostly though, they just heckled from the isles. One particular day, I was being grilled by a young pair of citizenry on the price of every bmx bike we had on the floor, color commentary retorted to every price I slung. Finally, one yoot asked what the initials in the name of the shop stood for? His foil beat me to the bell. "Gypin' an Rippin' Yo! Game, set and match. We laughed all summer.

"This number is also very trainable."

Harumph. That's a direct quote taken from a write up of a fitness test I just completed. Translation: You are one outta shape M-Fer. More dis-heartening is what that sentence implies; that my other suck-ass performance metrics are here to stay. Why oh why can't I just accept that fact that my genetic makeup predisposes me to a sport requiring a significantly less aerobic/anaerobic talent base...like cribbage.

Cycling Goodness from Monkey Dust!

Called out.

So gewilli called me out today and I am deeply humiliated.I tried, I really did. I'm so embarrassed. It was a moment of weakness...and a very expensive one. I didn't want a power meter. It just showed up. Really. I didn't want FTP, STP, power profiles, CNS, CVS, WKO+, REO, CPV, TSS, NP, MMP, NAN or any of that other crap. I opened up Pandora's box and all those acronyms just came spilling out all over the floor. Now gewilli is thoroughly disgusted with me AND I've got one hell of a mess to clean up. Oh how do I get back in thine good graces? Would telling you I also got a coach work?

There is an upside. Being the self-loathing defeatist that I am, being able to quantify ones suckness in multicolored graphs does hold a certain morbid appeal.

Things I've learned while riding around w/ a PowerTap

I sUck. Stupid PowerTap.

Why Run.

A comment posted to the "Running is Hard" blog echoed something I've heard often when I tell cross friends I'm running more. "Why not spend that time riding?" Good question. Here's the answer(s).

1) I dont' have more time to ride. On days when time is tight, I can get a 45 minute run in at 5:15 in the morning and be back before the kids wake up. I think it's time better spent than the equivalent 45 minutes on the bike. The dividends of 8 hours on the bike + 45 minutes running seems greater than 8:45 on the bike. At least that's what I'm telling myself.

2) I'm not running to get faster during the running sections of a cross race. There's no logic in that. I think this is a huge misconception on the part of those who eschew running. I'm doing it so that the hole I dig myself into during those running sections is not as deep.

3) It's been a real mental challenge. The mind games I've needed to play during hard runs are far more elaborate than those I use on myself while on the bike ;-)

4) And lastly, at my age, a little more bone density can only be a good thing.

The good news is, it doesn't take alot of miles to accomplish these goals. You still need to build a bit of base before doing speed work, but we're not talking marathon miles. They jury is still out on all of this, mind you. It's the first season I've decided to do this. I could end up being even slower than last year. I'll be sure to keep y'ins posted. What's slower than DFL?

Running is Hard

I've learned a lot running these last 6 months; running down steep trails is a black art, trying to 'softpedal' while running makes you come to a complete stop, You can't eat ANYTHING 30 minutes prior to a run, and I now know why walkmans were invented. Running is mind-numbing. It's also mentally taxing, much more so than road racing. That's probably a function of experience. My bicycle racing demons and I are on a first name basis. My runnings demons own my sorry butt. I haven't wanted to quit something so painful in a long time. "chapeau" to runners everywhere. Christ it's hard.

Running is Stupid.

Actually I'm stupid, running is just the grist for the mill, whatever the hell that means. Here's the proof. This year I decided to add more running to my cyclocross training. To keep my self motivated, I decided to train for a fast 10k come June. My running "coach", El Super Burrito, a co-worker and ironman tri-guy extraordinaire, helped get my program in line. The plan was simple. Add a few days of running to my cycling program until race time, then tapper off the running a bit and increase the saddle time. Well, when we sat down to find the 10k that worked for both our work/family schedules, the only thing that meshed was the Dick Houston Memorial Woodminster Race. Hmmm let us think a bit...I've been training mostly on the flats, looking to hold a 6:50-7:00 pace. Now let's look at the course profile. Yep, that race suites me perfect! How do you go from training for a fast 10k to racing a 8.82 trail course w/1700+ ft up climbing? Being stupid, That's how.

Holy Crap!

Thanks Margaret! Hazmatmodine!

Pink wins.

I love the Tour de France, but come on, no one really looks good in yellow. Pink on the other hand...

Just...can't...help...myself

If You Have a Bike!

I hate "commuter guy".

I leave the house like clockwork. Not swiss train schedule clockwork mind you, but not Amtrak either. With the girls in tow, I head out to school. More often then not I see him en route. It's either a red RB-1 or a yellow Torelli. I'm not sure how he decides which rig to ride. I dont' care. all I know is, I USE TO BE COMMUTER GUY DAMMIT!

Old Skool

Nice to see some Pro riders can still think for themselves...
















...well almost ;-)

Stalking Christopher.

The only question I have is...

Why isn't the Barney track 1st on the playlist? 4 seconds into that and I called my mom to tell her where I hid my Playboys.

Desiree Palmen.

jump for yourself.

Falling off the data wagon.

I'm teetering on the brink. I can feel it. The slope is too steep....and besides I kinda want to fall off/in. You see, I use to be a data nut. The fire has always been there, I'm a science nerd after all, but my friend Jaybird fanned the flames. He's an engineer and we were teammates...scientist+ engineer + racing: recipe for disaster smeared all over it. We were those fidiots sporting ginormously ugly, phenomenally expensive, Polar HRs with download capability back in the 80's . Long before the Joe Friel Training Bible, there was the Jaybird Datalog. A handmade binder of datasheets built in excel. I wore my HR all the time...yes, All. The. Time. I was such a loser. And I recorded everything. Everything. *Ding*, we have a loser. Christ. all I can do is sit here and shake my head. For years, I lived data...HR, RPE, Kilos, Km, VO2, blaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. Then I went cold turkey. Shunned it all. Stripped the computers off the bikes and lived like a hermit. I needed nothing but two wheels and focused furry! Truth is, I probably didn't like what all the data was telling me...that I was a sloth. It's much easier to lie to yourself when you tear away the electrodes and act dumb. Then I met Rhoda. He's also a teammate, but from a different decade...this one. And he IS the Modern Major General of data guys. He owns all the latest acronyms, monitors all the forums and my heads spins in the glorious data that pours forth from the digital realm of which he is truly king. I NEEED a powermeter. I MUST have a Garmin. Andy Coggan is the new Scientology!!!!!!!!!!!! JesusMaryJosephandalltheApostles, somebody save me from myself...or at least buy me a Powertap...2.4 Sl please. Whew!

Why some people choose to be doctors...and Why I did not.

Neck, oral cavity and cranium, originally uploaded by Stanford Medicine.

While I have a morbid curiosity about such things, I'm just not cut out to work in this medium on a daily basis. I can certainly see why others choose to do so. No finer example of engineering exists. It facinates and makes me oogy all at once.

Rain Cancels? Pthffffffft

_DSC0020, originally uploaded by Bici Girl photos.

Being part of a club w/ a large road contigent, I often see those two words. They always come at the end of a ride description detailing some upcoming 3 hour tour. The ride profile is always epic..70+ miles, 8 jillion feet of climbing, no regroup, bleeding eyeballs, near death experience and oh, rain cancels.

Then there are my people. People who know full well what's in store and drive hours to get to it. Hallelujah!

Happy Boy! Race Report #12

_DSC0059, originally uploaded by Bici Girl photos.

O. K. NOW i'm done. Thank you Peak Season and Mother Nature for a great course and even better weather. I may not have raced well, but damn if I didn't have fun riding like an idiot. Hypothermia, pink eye and giardia be damned. Best race of the year, bar none.

Why Cross Rulz: Reason #50

Ben pulling Brad??, originally uploaded by Bici Girl photos.

I'm still laughing.

What I need to do on my summer vacation

Now that cross season is *almost* over (see previous post), eyes turn uncontrollably skyward, searching the stars for clues to the eternal question, "How can I improve, how can I be better, how can I get faster... without doing any of the work"? It's that last part that always trips me up. I tried it this season and while I was able to ride less and ignore my training plan almost entirely, my result inexplicably suffered. My coach, Sister Lee, thinks that my problem is rooted in a previous life spent as lichen. The cure for purging my licheness turns out to be quite expensive, much more so than a 3 month run of EPO. When I asked for the EPO instead, she said she wasn't that kind of doctor, or any kind of doctor for that matter.

Now what the hell am I supposed to do. Race reports 10/11 and Beyond

I had intended to race the 22nd and 29th. Our oldest one got sick the first time, I got sick the second. I would have gladly taken both bullets as few things pain me more than watching my small child wretch (*shudder*) and thus ends the race reports. The trouble lies in the fact that the 29th was the last race on MY calendar, and if I had done them, well or not, I could have called my season 'Fini'. But now I've got this splinter festering and it just won't work itself out. O.K. so the real trouble is a character defect. The season feels undone. Why can't I just let it pass and look forward. Sometimes I hate my work ethic.