He's ok if he's not the fastest on the block, but that doesn't lead him to treat cycling like an adult kickball league as so many do. Cycling is important. It's ok to train for it. It's ok to want to be faster, because that's actually more fun than sucking completely. At the same time, being fast doesn't make you better than anyone else, and he knows that, too.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
picture stolen from dennisbike.com
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Charm City Cross. My team's race. Raking the park all afternoon Saturday, at the park in the dark setting stakes Sunday morning. Old hat for me. Being part of the community. I have my hand in three cross races this year. I love this stuff. Plus it's important to me to give back to something I love so much.
Saturday night, I got a note from Jim, it basically said, "be better than you were yesterday."
This is how it went down. (at least in my mind)
We run over the top of the run up together. I'm a little panicked from laying it down, but things are going well. Then Jeff lays it down. Kelly speaks up, "I'm guessing the C3 guys have too much air in their tires." We all laugh.
A lap later I'm still out by myself. Out in the open around the ball fields, I take a look back, kinda wondering when I was gonna get caught. I see Roger Masse at the front, and a train of black sitting on his wheel- blocking. It was my team Disco Jeff, Bernie and Sven Nystrom. My team rules!!
I say to myself, "self, your teammates are killing themselves, sacrificing their own races, the least you can do is your best" I stood on the pedals.
The race kinda went on like this for a couple of laps. I stood coming out of every corner, I was aggressive, I just keep pushing kept thinking, with my teammates working so hard, I didn't, I wouldn't let them down.
And then I saw the 2 to go sign on the lap cards. "shit, I said to myself, that's weird, I've never won a race less than 12 hours, without a teammate. hmmm I might just pull this off..." I start to be a little more conservative. I have about 30 seconds, my teammates are working their asses off for me, don't get sloppy in a corner now."
Through the sand I'm sloppy, run too much. "don't get cocky" I say to myself. Through the fields I look back, it's pretty wide open. I hear rotten rob and fitzy cheering for me. I start to smile. Over the run up I pass Pat from evo. He tells me to stop over for a beer afterwards. I really like Pat.
Finally, I turn on to the road the final stretch. My teammates have blocked everyone, I'm standing and riding, and I see the finish, no one between that final line and me. The waterworks start flowing. I can't believe this is happening. I zip up my skin suit, and pump my fist in the air as I cross the line crying like a baby. "holy shit, holy shit, I just won!" I thrust my arms up in victory. I really can't believe it. I can't believe I just rode that race.
I get off my bike and greet my teammates as they finish high fiving them, first Bernie, then Chris, and then Jeff. 1st-4th C3-sollay.com. What a great day for the home team!
Today was pretty much the best day of my bike racing life.
Friday, September 21, 2007
I can't believe it's starting already. what took so long?
I am anxious. I might puke. Today. My mind is racing a million miles an hour. I need to spit all this out.
I am stoked to pick up my new kit, to have the walking talking Johnny Cash Blues, to help promote our team race, to meet our team sponsors, to maybe be a little less of a walking freakshow, and more focused on being a good cross racer and teammate.
C3-Sollay.com! is as strong and focused, balanced, and hungry as any team I have ever been on. Much like the Spot/Twin Six team, there is very good chemistry here. I feel at home. There is a grounding in grassroots, a desire to support the greater community, but also a competitiveness, a chip on the shoulder, something to prove. Bad men and women wear black.
I've been working for this for all year. Cross season, something I couldn't be suited worse for, but something I love more than any type of racing. Time to belly up to the bar boys. Talk or Walk? I feel like a walk.
I've done my best to steer clear of the "confirmed riders" list for the race. Last night I couldn't avoid it. That's deep. Lots of riders, that's good for the team, maybe not so for me.
Serious ballers in my class. I count at least 12 guys who have beaten me regularly. There are 11 DCCoDers who slap me around practice every week in the class alone. Then there are the other 70 riders. Who in there has been having the secret squirrel training run of a life time? . Who in there is ready to shock the world? Who in there will smack us all around?
I feel my HR skip up a beat or two. I calm myself thinking, "dude, you can only control what you do, don't worry about anyone else." But then again I'm not really racing against anyone else am I? At the end of the day, this is to see how far I can push myself. How bad I want this, how much drive, how hard am I really trying? How much I love this. This is fun.
I am ready, I have been riding well. This is going to be a great season.
Still, doubt creeps into my head. Preseason concerns, "my back is a little sore", "is my throat scratchy?" Maybe I'll just take on lawn darts. Maybe I'll just harden the fuck up.
I had a pretty poor spring season by my accounts. But cross is where I have put my eggs. Will the basket hold up ? Have I worked hard enough? Having not raced since July, how much can I suffer? Has this all finally passed me by?
I stop, and I smile. I look at my black DCCoD bracelet. "NOT DEAD YET" it reads. Your damn right I'm not dead yet, I haven't begun to fight. I love this stuff, I love this challenge. It will be great to see so many friends this weekend that I haven't seen for a while. The event will be fun. I will ride well. The Delaware Cyclocross Coalition of Delaware will RAGE. I have worked hard following the teachings of Mayhew, and the lessons of the white hand of saron.
Coaching plan for today said: ride for an hour, wash your bikes, make sure you have new handlebar tape, make sure your sideburns are up to snuff. Be ready to rock. Oh YEAH!
I love cross. Charm City here I come, ready or not. I'm going for a quick spin.
see you all Sunday.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Somewhere along the line, I learned that “going commando” basically meant wearing no underwear. Being somewhat adventurous, there was a time in my life that I went commando quite often. Reality was that I wasn’t being adventurous, or even trying to be sexy, so much as my underwear were dirty and rather than wash them or wear dirty underwear, I just went commando.
The past month has been a flurry of hard days at work, and hard days on the bike. I have worked hard to raise my intensity levels with the hopes of building a nice cross season. With the hard bike days, and hard off the bike days, I hadn’t been sleeping so well. Burning the candle at both ends if you well. Well, finally Sunday night, I finally slept like a rock. I slept like I hadn’t slept in weeks. Finally, I woke up to the blaring of my alarm; I realized I had to be to work in 30 minutes.
I gathered my things, threw on some clothes and headed out. The entire drive to work I felt like I forgot something, perhaps I left the iron on. No, I had a t-shirt on today. Did I crate the boys? Yup, I remember chasing Riley out of Layla’s crate and into his. I just feel weird like something is not 100% right, like I forgot something.
Finally, I get to work, stop to use the bathroom, and I realize. In my rush to get dressed and out of the house, I forgot my underwear. I was an accidental commando. An unplanned freeballer.
From Van Wilder:
Ryan: “glad you made it.”
Tara: “sorry I’m late. I was having a hard time deciding what underwear to wear.”
Ryan: “really!? What did you decide on?”
For a film that was a little ahead of it’s time, try this: The Long Kiss Good Night. One of my personal favorites. Bourne Identity before Bourne was born. Samuel Jackson and Geena Davis. Superbad ass.
Got the B bike back from Rik tonight. He gave it his magic touch, a blessing from the white hand of saron, which is necessary for me to comfortably race a bike. Finally, equipment wise everything is coming together, I am so stoked.
Looking forward to the weekend, so jealous of Mega, and Kerry and anyone else who has their opener behind them.
For the record, slept like a rock last night. My dog makes a great personal heater when Diane isn’t sharing the blanket.
Monkey and I have become super germaphobs as sick people are everywhere at work, and we are trying to get into cross with out getting sick. Extra vitamins, 2 airbournes a day... Will these sick folks stay home! I can't afford to be sick now!
What to see what I did with the last few weeks of July? Check it out here.
Play the trailer.
Monday, September 17, 2007
took 2 seconds off my 600m tt from last week. So yeah, I have that going for me.
Then we went to lunch with the outlaws, celebrating my sister in law's Birthday.
Diane and I played with the boys a bit, and then took them down through Community Day at the university. We saw a dinosaur, got some footballs and played bouncy bounce...
We saw an old friend Amanda, who saw us and said, "man you two have been busy!" Diane looked at each other and laughed, singing a little Amy Winehouse, "No. No. No!"
Peaches slipped back to the dark side just a little today. During a 10 lap race, I looked over my shoulder and there he was on his SPOT BRAND 29er, smiling at me. His barrier work (we keep a set on the infield) was a little rusty, but he's not that far from coming back ...
Is canoodling the official to get more omnium points legal?
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Do you know my name?" Monkey and Breyla-la-la answer simultaneously, " no way!!!" and start laughing at the drunk kid.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
It was still dark as I headed up the double track trail the runs along the Christina River through White Clay State park. Through the darkness I saw a beautiful white heron flying above the river. It was really a peaceful and serene moment. Then I almost rode my bike off the bank and into the creek, as I was watching the beautiful bird hover above the softly churning water, and I wasn’t watching were the hell I was going. It was still dark the trail looked like it was right there. So I looked up the trail, actually paid attention, stood on the pedals and took off to start my work out.
Cross practice this week was nice. A few folks came out; we rode around a soccer field. (i)Paul tried rocking 20lbs of pressure, and ended up doing a Pete Rose slide. Jeb try to see how hard he could lean it in a corner, and laid it down in a very bad place. A hard charging Tom ran over his nice new bike, which is now pretty much destroyed. In a very sad way that was funny. I think story has a happy ending. Jeb was keeping his pimp hand strong last night. I have a some bruises from said hand.
Kelly came down from Philly to give us some old school coaching, and had some great tips to help me clean up my technique. Sweet. Tough Cookie came down and gave us some inspiration. She rules. And Fuck it looked like she has a pretty damn kick ass time.
During the efforts I didn’t feel so sporty, but battled in with the group, and despite not feeling like I had a lot of energy, or could put down what I wanted, I battled hard and still had a really good work out. I did have to do some pimping in the corners, and use all of my fatpowers on the stair run up.
and then we feasted. The real story was how there was too many of us for the old El Hefe, so they had to open their new wing a little earlier than expected, and let us christen the place. "set up tables?" you got it.
you know how the dccod rolls.
Chika Chika Yeah !
only rotten can pull of the mandana.
is there any wonder Wednesday is my favorite night of the week?
Jan has his best run up technique. ever.
When I can no longer hide behind technique, Jan will own my sorry ass.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
perhaps the most brilliant line I have ever heard in a movie:
"you know you don't want to suck dick at fucking pussy."
Friday, September 7, 2007
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Cross is pure. Cross is cathartic. Like no other type of racing I have done, or trained for do I find myself looking into my soul and asking, how much faster can I push this. Short succinct efforts driving yourself deep into the pain cave. In preparation for mountain biking I could never convince myself to do what I easily cajole myself to do for cross.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
164: be wary of those who believe in a neat little world, 'cause you know that's just fucking crazy.
Run like hell.
Headed out to Park Y today for a little grass track racing.
Slick Rik (semi-retired) was looking dead sexy in his pink shorts and MABRA championship jersey.
You figure 30 yard straights, big ole corners, close racing, it was too much fun...
I think I was red lined the entire time.
Jeb would win the miss and out race today.
While at Park Y Ted Logic, Gwen and their boys showed up to hit the playground. Teague reminds us that the playground is serious business:
Breyla-la-la is out at seven springs doing the 24hr race. Here, we all enjoy some drinks during our stay in Utah. This has nothing to do with this post, I just like the picture.