Chasing the Break

I'm not here anymore...

2011-01-24T16:12:00.000-08:00

...I'm here. Thanks for reading.

Not Much Going On...

2010-09-01T13:35:00.000-07:00

Have you ever gone poop, turned around to check your work (you know you do) and there is nothing there? Your rational self tells you that it likely just went directly into the hole at the bottom of the bowl, lucky shot! But after a few seconds you start to think, "Did I actually poop? Or do I just think I pooped?"
There is a way to tell, but the description of that method is beyond the scope, decorum and dignity of this blog.
I sure hope life gets a little more exciting very soon.

A Proud Daddy Moment

2010-08-10T09:03:00.000-07:00

Journal Entry August 06, 2010

In my life I have accomplished a few things for which I was proud, personal accomplishments mostly, some a little more public; nothing big in this world but big in mine. Today, though, was the proudest moment in my life so far.

It is “rock star” day at Carla Rose’s day camp. All the kids are supposed to dress as rock stars and the day’s activities will be so themed. Because Mom leaves to work earlier than Dad, I am left to transform my daughter into a rock and roll diva. An avid (voracious) fan of the Disney Channel my daughter set the bar high. I know, when she looks into the mirror, she expecting to see Hanna Montana or Demi Lavato looking back at her.

Early this morning I rummaged through Carla’s clothes pulling out anything that was remotely rock star-ish. I put it all in a pile at the foot of her bed hoping for inspiration and a lot of luck. As I began to dress her the outfit began to take shape and she was pretty happy with it. It consisted of various items she already had and most of it she wears on a regular basis, just not all at the same time: Purple silk scarf, neon green plastic cross, black boots, black leggings, 2 belts loose around the hips, bracelets and sunglasses. I even applied the lipstick. As she scrutinized my work in the mirror Carla asked me, “What rock star do I look like Dad?” She’s savvy enough to know she didn’t look like anyone she has seen on TV so I said, “Daddy saw a singer who looked just like this on MTV when he was in college” and that was good enough for her. It’s nice to know that she still believes everything Daddy tells her.

But the proud moment came when I dropped her off at day camp. When she walked in you would have thought she was a real rock star. All the kids gasped, oohed and aaahed as they rushed her asking here where she got this and where she got that, telling her how awesome she looks…and Carla handled it all just like a rock star, with poise and patience and just enough humility so as not to appear corny or insincere. She was loving it all. I could feel my grin touching my ears as I watched Carla with her friends all around her. I had won the critical acclaim of a bunch of 6 and 7 year olds and made my daughter happy at the same time. I have never felt more proud of myself than at that moment. Some Dad’s build skyscrapers or fly jets; some save lives as doctors, or policemen or firemen. This dad turned his daughter into a pretend rock star for a day and life couldn’t be better right now.

Journal Entry July 09, 2010

2010-07-14T23:00:00.000-07:00

10:30 PM and I am watching the replay of stage 5 of the TdF. Just thought of a new sub-title for this blog: My Life on the Rivet. I'll explain later.

It's been a few weeks since I've returned from an early summer vacation and though I desperately needed the time off I've had a difficult time regaining the momentum my training had since I've been back. Our stay in Sin City was way more relaxing than raucous so it has not been a matter of recovering from the trip but rather waking up from it. This is just an observation and has nothing to do with the next few paragraphs.

While I do not consider myself to be old, I certainly do not feel old, the fact is that I am fast approaching the top of the hill ,as in "Over The..."). During my life I have known success (and failure) on many levels and feel truly blessed for the life I have been given. But over the last 10 years or so I've had this strong feeling that I am destined for a more significant achievement before I leave this earth. Honestly, I don't have any idea what it may be but I'm quite certain I won't be curing cancer, although...you can never say never...But it feels like it will be something more personal and fulfilling like creating a foundation in my mothers memory or something that will benefit others.I don't know yet what it will be but it will be good.

In this search for my destiny I've come to the conclusion that opportunity does not present itself with the frequency it once did.This realization has force me to look back and recall all the missed, squandered and ignored opportunities from my youth. So I guess I'll have to create my own opportunities if I am to answer the call.

This will be no easy task for a full-time-family-man-bike-racer-wannbe. I'm supposed to be creating opportunities for my children and their own successes. Far be it from me to compromise their future for my "folly" especially since they have so much more future ahead of them than I. This leaves even less opportunity for opportunity for me.

I do believe is a cosmic domino effect where one success leads to another in life. So I figure my best shot at tipping over that first domino is to have success on the bike. The way I see it, all the different parts of my life contribute to my efforts on the bike so that a podium finish will naturally ripple through them and lead to more success and ultimately my destiny. Hence the name I've chosen for my blog, "Chasing the Break." Just in case you were wondering...

Personal Journal Entry June 17, 2010

2010-06-27T22:00:00.000-07:00

This day finds me on the fourth day of 6 vacation days in Las Vegas. The family is staying at a beautiful resort off the strip, away from the hubbub of The Strip but close enough if we choose to partake. Tonight we are taking Carla Rose to see The Lion King at Mandalay Bay. But the highlight of the trip, for her, has been the pool. Except for meals, she spends most of her day in the water. I think she’s growing the beginnings of a dorsal fin.

We left LA on Monday. The day before, Sunday, I competed in the La Habra CBR crit. I only raced the 4’s because I still had a little prep to do before vacation officially started. Anyway, the weather that morning was comfortably cool and a bit overcast, typical So Cal June Gloom, a contrast to the sunny and hot weather two weeks before.

The field was not quite full, about 70 riders but the fast ones were there. The race started out routinely enough but soon you could hear the distinct sound of break pads desperately grabbing rims as riders shouted. The entire rest of the race was peppered with squealing breaks and shouting riders. For a mid-season race it was squirrely, even for a 4’s race. At one point a rider from Mengioni told the rider next to him to grab a wheel and stick to it. I guess this guy all over the place. Mengioni then puts his hand on the guy but the guy gets spooked and swerves sharply to the right causing a chain reaction across the peloton. For those not right next to it, it appeared Mengioni pushed the other guy so of course Mengioni catches a ration of shit from the other riders and a warning from the race announcer.

So the for the rest of the race I worked hard to stay at the front, away from the inevitable carnage that would likely come before race end. Then, as happens, I wasn’t paying attention and soon found myself about 20 riders back with 5 laps to go. I knew I would be able to make a move up the inside so I stayed put until 2 laps to go at which time I was boxed in, unable to get to the outside. With one lap to go the speed picks up and riders are dropping off 2 and 3 at a time. Horribly out of position I decided to say content to finish where I was. Riders are spilling left to right as I evaluate my options for getting by safely. As I swing to the right I see bikes and riders sliding toward my intended line and stop just a few feet to my left as I pass. But by then opportunists were already diving into turn 3 and as I come out of turn 3 they are charging turn 4. My day is done. I sprint anyway just to move up a few meaningless positions to break into the top 20.

I hadn’t ridden a 4’s race like that in a long time. In retrospect, I was surprised there were not more crashes. After a cool down lap I rolled over my car, commented to a few other guys on how crazy it was, packed my stuff and drove home. I have no regrets on how the race went for me personally, if I had stayed at the front I surely would have been one of the guys hitting the pavement. Sometimes, survival is the prize.

Out of the Ashes...

2010-04-21T15:56:00.000-07:00

Ok, so far for 2010 I’ve found time to log some races under my belt. Results haven’t been what I was hoping for but the season is still young and hopefully I will come into some form just as everyone else is winding down. My last race with the Dana Point Gand Prix and it was a disaster. Enough said, I don’t want to go into details, just put it behind me.

The highlight of that day came actually on the drive home as I was simultaneously beating myself up over my performance and planning my redemption. As I started thinking back on previous races my memory gathered momentum as I recalled race after race going back over many, many years. I was trying to recall how I felt during the actual race. I sorted my experiences by how I felt both physically and mentally.

One thing that you must understand about cycling, competitive cycling in particular, is that those rides or races where you feel your best are the rides or races where you are able to make yourself feel your worst…intentionally! Your best days are the ones you can push yourself so far into the hurt locker you can’t find your way back out, nor do you want to.

In my last post I talked about my own need to spend more time in this receptacle of pain but the need to be there is one thing and the actual act of entering it is another. It’s not a matter of just turning up your watts ‘till it hurts and then keep on riding, at least not at my age. Spending any kind of beneficial time in the hurt locker is not about the physical ability to do so, we can all do it; it’s mental; can you actually make your physical body walk in and stay there for as long as it takes?

Sure, we may take a little step inside now and again, whether intentionally or by accident or by circumstance. But to be successful in competition you have to walk in, belly up to the bar and tell the man to keep ‘em coming. And as I replayed my cycling experiences in my head I found that over time I have lost, to some degree, the mental where-with-all to do that. For any number of “reasons” I’ve rationalized why I shouldn’t make myself hurt so bad: I need to be fresh for work tomorrow, I’ve got to finish that backyard fence this afternoon, I can’t be tired for the family outing, etc., etc., etc. But this is a to do list and really has nothing to do with training.

Since my life has become divided by work, family, me I have tried hard to live my life by the words of Van Hagar, to be “Right here, right now.” Wherever I am, whatever I’m doing, that’s what I am and what I’m doing…nowhere and nothing else. But now I have to take that philosophy to the next level and apply it to my mind. Now don’t take me for moron here, I know training the mental athlete is nothing new. I’ve read the articles and the books and even use the CD on a regular basis. But like the smoker or junkie, nothing is going to help you until you are ready to help yourself. That “piece” has to find its proper place in your life and I think (I hope) it’s found its place in mine.

May is a big month, there are a ton of races in So Cal including State ITT Championships. I Think I can squeeze in 2 crits or a crit and a road race before the ITT and then a couple of fun crits after. Then regroup and train for the June crits and Manhattan Beach Gand Prix. It’ll take on July when it gets here.

I’m not going to focus on results for the upcoming races but on the quality of my training leading up to them; an I mentally where I want and need to be? I figure if I can accomplish that the results will come. Stay tuned.

Reaching Into The Hurt Locker

2010-03-10T21:44:00.000-08:00

Not long ago I finally learned how to creat a link so now sometimes I go a bit link crazy. So you would think that just after the Oscers and with a title like this one I would natuarally link to the movie. Wrong.

I haven't seen the movie and don't really care if I do or not but the term kind of stuck with me ever since I heard it. Other than describing the state of being in deep dooo-doo I also found the term associated with being it a state of great pain. After evaluating my performance in my last race I decided it was time to add more pain to my own game, or add some higher intensity training session to my schedule, spend some more time in RPE 9 and 10, or open up and see what I find in my own "hurt locker."

While my "time in zone" has decreased somewhat during my interval sessions I must say that the residual sensation in my legs tells me the new stimulation is needed and welcome..Change is good. As I've aged I've adopted a less aggressive approach to my training, more nurturing, hoping the results would come to me rather than going after them. After all, I'm no spring chicken anymore. "F" that! If I stay on that path you can expect a podium shot of me when I'm 83.

I lost sight of the fact pain is just a part of the game. No rest between plays, injury time-outs, bathroom breaks and half-time shows. I've been successful at being a part of the peloton, now I want to be a part of the race. That means stuffing myself in the hurt locker more often. I've come to measure whether or not I've reached the proper intensity during these workouts by the feeling in my legs as I walk up the stairs in my office ( I know some sort of power measuring device would be better suited to the task but until someone wants to make a donation to the "Help Charles Reach the Podium Fund" the stairs will have to do). I also use these same stairs to measure my recovery.

It's getting past my bedtime and I still have to stretch before putting on the 'jammies. I've got long time-trial efforts waiting for me in the morning. Next race is the LA Circuit Race, the wind makes this the next best thing to a Belgin classic in So Cal. I'll try my best to get a couple of posts in before then.

Announcing My Presence with Authority

2010-02-27T21:14:00.000-08:00

Wow, I can't believe it's been so long since my last post. And I've had so much to say. But in the spirit of chronological continuity I'll get back to those thoughts later.

A few weeks ago I followed in the footsteps of Ebby Calvin Nuke LaLoosh and shot an email off to Josh Horowtiz announcing that this year I would break 0:57:00 in State ITT Champs this year. Based on last years times this would put me repsectably in the top 20 of my catagory.

My early season training has gone as early season training goes. I didn't do as well as I would have liked to at my first race of the season but hey, I haven't raced on the road since 2008 ('cross don't count).

It was my plan to ramp up the intensity of my training sessions right after my first race but my week did not unfold as I had anticipated. T-ball practice, batting and cathcing practice after practive, driving lessons (my 19 year old son does not know how to drive a manual transmission though by the time you read this he will be quite compotent), early to work, late to leave, help with homework, hlep my sister-in-law load the truck for a cross-country relocation and just pure fatigue all reduced my training hours this week to a goose egg.

Although it is still early in the season I can't help but feel a bit of anxiety over losing a complete week of training. Each event, every task that makes up my day requires my complete focus and undivided attention. It can drive a person crazy and at times makes me a bit dizzy as hours, days and weeks sometimes meld into one continuous and chaotic event.

But more important to completing each task to the best of my ability, including training, and getting the most out of the moment than focus is perspective. What is important right here, right now ,what is important in the grand scheme? With some luck I can always try to break 0:57:00 at the 2011 State ITT Champs but my daughter's first base hit of her life only happens once and I wouldn't miss cracking up with my son as his 1967 bug bucks to a violent stop for the 20th time. But that does not mean I'm giving up on my goal. I may m not be the best or the fastest guy out there but there has always been something in me that keeps me in the race, I will always be that man in the arena.

2009-12-13T12:37:00.000-08:00

I am not a ‘crosser. Maybe I will be someday but today I am not. And I certainly was not on November 29th at So Cal Prestige Series Turkey Trot Cyclocross Race. I raced the Single Speed 3-4. I would tell you how the race unfolded but a more accurate description would be of how it unraveled. I managed not to come in dead last but the technical and demanding course took its toll on my body. I haven’t felt so beat up since hell week in my college football days. I hurt in places bike racers shouldn’t hurt. Note to self: More upper body strength work.

Despite crashing 3 times and nearly crashing as many times I managed to enjoy myself. I kept reminding myself why I was there and too look at the big picture; which by the way, is hard to see when you have fatigue and O2 debt induced tunnel vision. My less than stellar placing was a direct result of equal parts suck and poor fitness. Without regret I blame my week-long recovery on my prep in the days leading up to race day. From Wednesday to Saturday it was non-stop cooking, eating and drinking and little to no bike time. It’s not often I get to drink with my brothers so I took full advantage of the opportunity. For those of you who don’t know me, I eat everything and drink everything. Usually, moderation makes is my middle name but during the Holidays the gloves come off! And I never paid too much attention to the “mixing” rules and often will follow a shot of tequila with a good Merlot and dark beers are just plain good anytime. With the exception of the turkey, Thanksgiving meals are pretty much a starch-fest. I don’t think I fully digested Thursday’s meal by the time I toed the line on Sunday.

So by race day, while I was not hung over but neither was I well rested or well prepared for the hell those PAA bastards plotted out. Note to self: Look for PAA guys at the first crit of the season and give them a real dirty look! But in the end, I achieved two of my three race goals:

1. Finish -check
2. Don’t come in last -check
3. Win

Two out of three is not bad. I think my cross season is over this year. My personal race budget was unexpectedly slashed to nil but there is food on the table and a roof over it so I can’t complain. I do still owe my cross benefactor and thank him for his patience.

Next year I would like to actually plan for a more full ‘cross schedule and give it a real “go”… to the extent a 48 year old family man can get it going. Right now I have to figure out how I’m going to make the 2010 road season happen for me.

For your consideration: Does Obama really deserve the Nobel Peace Prize? Talk amongst yourselves…

Next, I’ll be discussing my goals for 2010 and the effects of having your own personal cheering section at races.

Post Race Interview with the Lemond

2009-11-06T15:29:00.000-08:00

I caught up with the Lemond after the race. He agreed to answer a few questions:

CTB – You started your career as a roadie designed by one of cycling’s legends, modeled after the classic European rides of the time. What happened?

LM – I don’t understand your question. Are all your questions going to be like this?

CTB – I mean, what path lead you to such a…or rather, to this point in your “career?”

LM – You think just because you’re talking that I can’t see your “quotation marks?”

CTB – I’m just saying…

LM – Out of politeness I will answer your “question.” Without an ounce of bitterness I will say Technology has brought me to this phase of my career. Riders today want technology, flash, obscene price tags; whether or not performance is included is not important. If you don’t podium blame your bike, shoes, helmet or sunglasses. “The carbon layup on the bottom bracket of my new frame did not suit today’s course conditions…” Forget that I ride like the classic Euro stars, I don’t look cool so no one wants me. Lugged steel may be perfect for Sunday mornings at the café but heaven forbid showing up at the Sunday crit on it.

CTB – you’re right, you don’t sound the least bit bitter.

LM – It ain’t fair, man.

CTB – Soooo…now you’re a ‘crosser. What’s it like?

LM – It’s good. I’m just taking it one race at a time, you know? I thank God for the opportunity. I’m just here to help the team anyway I can and put the sponsor’s names out there. It’s a great experience and I’m just glad to be here.

CTB – Rrrriiiight. Watching you out there today, looks like your plan is to bring your form along slowly, very slowly.

LM – Hey, talk to Mr. Beer & Donuts up there. I’m the one dragging his ass around most of the time. I’m embarrassed to take him out of the car at races. Man, talk about paying for your past transgressions…

CTB – Nope, not a hint of bitterness. You’ve also decided to go single speed.

LM – I may not have the tallest stack out there but I sure have the biggest bearings!

CTB – TMI! TMI! How did you make the transition from tarmac to terra firma?

LM – I’m not embarrassed to say I had some work done. Nip here, tuck there, some implants, bada bing, bada boom, I’m a cyclocross bike.

CTB – You put mayo on your frites now?

LM – Not me. But it feels like lard butt up there puts mayo on everything.

CTB – You are the oldest bike out the…I mean, you’ve got some years…You’ve seen a lot in your career. Did you have any sage words for the youngsters in the field today?

LM – Kids today! All hopped up on goof balls, playing their hippity hop music, they are all bling and no brains. The only thing I have to say to them is, “Get out of my way!”

CTB – Looking at the race results it sees it was more like, “Am I in your way?”

LM – Hey, I hear VeloNews is looking for someone to clean their toilets…

CTB - You must be tired from your effort today…and a little cranky too…so well wrap this up…

LM – Where’s that guy from PEZ?

CTB – and good luck in Glendale on November 29th.

LM – Eat me.

Special thanks to Jon Grinder.

Race Report (Finally)

2009-11-02T21:19:00.000-08:00

With a hectic week following Spooky Cross on 10-24-09 I’m finally getting down to getting my race report down. Let me preface my report with 2 things:
1. I haven’t raced ‘cross since the last time I was in Colorado Springs about 12 or 15 years ago.
2. I raced on a single speed bike purely for time and monetary economics figuring with fewer moving parts I’d save a little more of both.

So I go into this race with OK fitness as I haven’t raced at all in 2009 but with no ‘cross skills. The last time I dismounted a moving bike was the last time I crashed a few months ago. Bust soft landing surfaces gave me the confidence I needed to perform the ‘cross ballet without mishap managing to look only somewhat inept versus completely incompetent. My saving grace was that I was able to ride the steep pitches and sand without dismounting which prompted cheers from the spectators lining those parts of the course.

More to the point of the actual racing…I sucked. In a 35 minute race I managed to finish over 2 laps down to the leaders mixed in with stragglers from the “geared” cat 3-4 race that started w minutes behind us. From the gun I was red-lining trying to stay with the guys who already had 6 races in their legs and probably a whole road season as well. My mistake, I brought my competitive spirit with me instead of my 34t chain ring. After a few laps I settled into comfortable, oxygen depleted, lactate induced stupor and managed to stay upright for the rest of the race. When I heard the leaders get the last lap call I could barley manage that thought of a smile as I calculated that by the time the winner crossed the line I would still have about half a lap to go.

I learned something about racing single speed cross: There is no rest for the stoopid. I mean, you can’t shift up and rest on the flat or easy parts of the course. You have to stay on top of you gear the entire time just to maintain some semblance of speed.

The funny thing about cross is that it’s not fun until it’s all over. Back at the car I literally threw my bike into some bushes, cleaned up and went to heckle the next race. The recovery drink flowed freely from on of the race sponsors so I took full advantage. Temps were in the mid 80’s and staying hydrated was a big concern as I was flying solo w/ no one to hand me drink while out on the course.

As I drove home I decided, yes, I did have fun and, yes I wanted more. I’m thinking next year of goin’ geared. Look for a post race interview with the Lemond in my next post. Hopfully my next report will inlcude some pics of me in "action" at The Turkey Trot Cross from Glendale, CA.

One For The Road...

2009-09-21T21:20:00.000-07:00

It has been about three weeks since my "new" 'cross bike arrived from Grinder Bikes. Since that time I've been tweaking it here and there to dial in the fit and adjustments. It seemed appropriate that the morning I finally got to take it (I don’t believe in giving my bikes a specific gender, sometimes they can be a mo’ fo’, other times beeaaach) out the weather was cool, overcast with just a hint of moisture in the air. The ‘cross gods knew it was time.

I close the garage door behind me and ran across the front lawn rolling the bike beside me; did my best Sven Nyes impression as I mounted ‘cross style; jumped the curb and pedaled down my street giggling like a jr.

There is something very liberating about riding a cross bike and even more so when it is a single speed. First, you can go places where you wouldn’t and couldn’t take your road bike.

Second, there is the unique giddiness from the feel of 700c wheels on rolling over dirt,
grass, mud, etc. Different from 26” or 29er’s on mountain bikes. Is it the speed? Maybe. But I don’t want to over analyze, I just want to enjoy.

Third, there is the worry-free state of mind that comes with the simplicity of a single speed. While I love my road bike, my instincts are always on alert for irregular noises, rattles, feelings that signal something may be wrong. Bikes in and of themselves are, mechanically, relatively simple but there are a lot of moving parts, most of them very small. Like a Tell-Tale Heart, the constant, rhythmic clicking from an ill-adjusted derailleur can turn into mind drumming madness and ruin what started out to be a really good day.

But on a single speed, there is only the hum of the well lubed chain as it floats over the peaks and valleys of your chain-ring and cog like soap over your girlfriend’s body…but I digress.

So went my ride as I took every opportunity to get off the pavement and ride over our Mother Earth: other people’s lawns, parks, empty lots, the occasion green belt. I even rode the entire grassy medians on Huntington Dr and San Gabriel Blvd in San Marino. Thought I was one wild and crazy guy until I came across a guy in PAA kit doing the same thing in the other direction.

On more than one occasion I found my fingers searching for the shifter as I cruised along. I’m so used to shifting and down with any change in the road but now I find myself wondering if the shifters are more pacifier than anything. I shift because I can, because they are there. On the single speed, if I wanted to go faster I pedaled faster. If the road pitched up, I stood up. If I spun out, I just stopped pedaling and coasted.

Now I’m not saying shifters are for pussies or that they don’t have their place on the bike. I’m just saying, ride your bike, don’t let your bike ride you.

I was hoping to race my first cyclocross race since I left Colorado this past weekend but I had to attend a funeral for the son of a good friend of mine. Seeing what she was going through a ‘cross race seemed a poor excuse to miss the services. I’ve got 25 more opportunities before the road season starts again so look for my first race report coming soon.

Close Encounter

2009-08-14T05:47:00.000-07:00

My 6-year old daughter, Carla Rose, was spending a few days with my brothers in San Diego so last Sunday I took the opportunity to sleep a few extra hours before hitting the road for my training ride. With no pressing obligations to bring me home early I planned a longer than usual route with some sustained hill work. However, the pull of households tasks long left undone persuaded me to change my plan so I opted for a 90 minute interval session along the San Gabriel River bike trail.

Things were going swimmingly and I was pleased and motivated by the effort I was able to put forth considering the spotty training in the days prior. I broke out the new team kit that day for some reason. I had only worn it a few times before not really feeling worthy of it yet. Maybe that had something to do with the way I was feeling.

The trail is never really crowded so I took not notice of the number of trail users that morning. Being a little later in the morning than normal there was a little more "traffic" but not a perceptible amount. Once you roll down the driveway the time of day is quickly forgotten and you are only aware of the passing scenery and where you are in relation to where you want to be.

I was about 7 minutes into my third ten-minute threshold interval, mentally calculating at what point on the trail I would end this one. I don't normally do intervals on the trail but it is an ideal place for it: straight, relatively flat, no cars, little of any other form of locomoting traffic.

As I was approaching one of the several entry/exit points along the trail from the surface streets I saw a rider coming down the ramp entering the trail the same direction I was going only much slower. He was riding an old, blue, price-point mtb; the kind favored by the homeless in my area. He had a white plastic grocery bag hanging from the handlebars with a few bottles and cans inside.

As he merged onto the trail I moved to the left to pass him. I was about 20 yards behind him traveling 25 mph when he decided he was going in the wrong direction. Without turning his head me makes a u-turn on the path. As I comprehend what is about to happen I notice the rocky embankment to my left and two Freds with road bikes stopped on the right side of the trail: Fred 1 is resplendent in his team LPR kit and brown slip-on Van's; Fred 2 is looking Freddy in a brown cycling jersey, baggy shorts and his helmet pushed waaay back on his forehead. Then right in from of me is Magellan. For a split second I thought about going right and taking our the Freds just because. But a quick calculation told me the least damage would be done by staying on target.

It is funny the volume of thought that goes through your mind those milliseconds before impending doom: Options... probable outcomes...pain...costs...will I have to buy a new bike? I've only worn this kit twice before...call the wife...shit, my phone's in my jersey pocket...will I be able to ride home...?

So I hit this guy nearly full gas as my breaking distance is reduced to nil because of my speed and his spontaneity. I hit him at about a 70 degree angle with the right side of my body. I see a flash of light as the right side of my head nest to my eye hits his left cheekbone (I know this because of the large red mark on his cheek and my blackened right eye). As is out instinct to do I get up quickly and assess my situation. As quickly I realize I am not on the last lap of the local crit and I settle myself down. Magellan is down and not moving a whole lot but he is breathing...Fred 2 walks over to the guy, bends over and observes. He doesn't say anything, just looks. My bike is about 5 feet from where I am and I check to make sure my phone is still in my jersey pocket.

I walk over to see how the guy is doing and begin talking to him just to see if I can get a reaction and assess how bad he is or isn't. Rather than tear him a new one for making a bone-headed move I simply explain to him that he has to be more careful. A minute later he's lifting himself of the ground and I help him the rest of the way up. Fred 2 has taken a half-step back but his posture and expression have not changed. Fred is on his feet and somewhat steady. Feeling sure he's not going to fall over I pick up the blue mtb and set it up on the kick stand. The seat post has been sheared just below the seat clamp. This is not going to make the ride "home" comfortable for him.

I take out my pocket tool and remove the seat post and seat from my bike and try to swap it out for his busted post but the odd diameter of his seat tube won't work with my post. Sorry dude, I tried. Feeling kinda bad I offer him one of my water bottles still in their respective cages. He says thanks but no thanks and begins walking in his new direction. I take a few minute to straighten all the tweaked parts on my bike and body before remounting. All this time Fred one and Fred 2 are standing off to the side, slack-jawed and silent like a couple of idiots. I was thinking that these two guys are the quality of the species that is ripe for alien abduction.

With my interval session cut short I was making my way home sincerely hoping Magellan was OK. My thighs were bruised, I cut the bridge of my nose where my sunglasses hit, my eye was black and blue and my right shoulder was rapidly stiffening. The bike seemed to be OK with almost no damage except for the out-of-true wheels. I'll likely hang it up and and give it a good dose of TLC later. I'll be sore tomorrow but back on the indoor trainer or running. My new x-bike should be here soon and I want to be worthy of it. More on that later.

I would like to take this opportunity to say a word about Specialized water bottle cages. These things ROCK! 25 mph impact and both bottle still resting comfortably in their cages. One cage is about 12 or 15 years old I purchased in CO. Jon told me a story back then of how he drove back to Denver from Moab with the bikes on roof racks. After several hours of 70-80 mph highway driving the bottles that were inadvertently left in the Specialized water bottle cages were still there. Since the day I heard that story I've only ever used Specialized cages and have NEVER lost a bottle since.

What I Did Today

2009-07-02T16:15:00.000-07:00

Tuesday nights are my nights to volunteer at the weekly elementary school bingo game. Bingo is a big fundraiser for the private elementary education facility all my kids have attended and my daughter still does. Tonight I got home from work, ate dinner, got some face time with the family for a few minutes then off to bingo. I didn't get home until 10:30 PM. Then I spent 30 minutes in the garage putting a new chain on my bike. I was in bed by 11:30. Needless to say my usual wake-up and work-out time the next morning came and went sometime during a deep slumber, I don't remember.

But I was determined to get a Wednesday workout in. After work, family, etc. I finally got off the indoor trainer at 9:30 PM, showered and wrote this entry in my journal to be transferred to the blog at a later time.

I was a high school and college football player with a strange passion for spending hours in a hot, stinky room with other guys chasing large pieces of iron around the room. 25 years older, if not a day wiser, the thought of heavy lifting just isn't that appealing. I satisfy the need to strengthen my legs by doing high resistance-low cadence intervals on the indoor trainer. I usually crank the resistance level on my trainer to the max, shift my bike into the biggest gear and pedal somewhere under 70 rpm for timed intervals.

This night I watched an old VHS of the 1996 Tour du Pont, later the Tour de Trump and then the Tour defunct. Old footage of Lance suffering keeps me motivated and passes the time. I was also trying out my new box fan...nice an cool! It was a good evening!

As Time Goes By...

2009-06-13T21:31:00.000-07:00

I must say that it has been a difficult "season" so far. I didn't enter the new year where I wanted to be. Then dealing with my mothers illness and subsequent passing made it difficult to fine the time and motivation to train. Since that time it seems like it has been a constant parade of family and social commitments, overtime/weekends at the office and honey-do's. What little time that has availed itself to training I've just been too tired to do so. Not to say I've haven't done anything at all but let's just say I can't wait for the 2010 race calendar to come out.

It's very had to stay motivated when the light at the end of the tunnel is so far away. It is too easy to say, "I've got time, I'll do it tomorrow." If I were recovering from injury, that would be one thing. But when I am still trying to build up my fitness reading the results my team is posting I feel as if I've been left standing on a rainy train platform. I also does not help being reminded the season is half over.

Mentally, I've raced every weekend. I've pictured myself in the peloton pushing, pulling and suffering for my teammates. Spiritually, emotionally and physically I haven't felt more removed. So once again I am back to re-tooling my training program hoping to carry enough fitness into the fall for the So. Cal Time Trial Series. You know, buying new gear always seems to change the mood. Maybe I'll just go out and get that 'cross bike I have always planned on and take on the dust and blood.

I know the only excuse for the state I am in is within myself. If I am hungry enough I will find a way to satisfy the rumbling in my competitive belly. I've got to get that hungry feeling back, get mad, get motivated! I dealt this hand, tossed the wrong cards but I've got to finish the game. My 2009 may be over but I've got a hell of a head start on 2010. Plus I've got that new 'cross bike to look forward to.

Do You Know What Really Burns My Ass?

2009-05-18T21:00:00.000-07:00

By now, I’m sure you are all wondering what I ride day in and day out. There was a time when my “stable” housed a dozen bikes, road, ‘cross, TT, mountain and even a sweet BMX ride when I was feeling CRAZY. That was over 15 years and what seems like a lifetime ago.
These says my stable is more like a lean-to and my heard culled to an intimate gathering of strays. Entering my garage one will find the following two-wheeled machines in order of use:

1990 (approximately) Pinerello Veneto
I’ve owned this bike for almost 20 years. It’s seen crits, road races and even ‘cross in both CA and CO. It’s been a townie, fixie, utility and beater. But regardless of the task, this bike has always been my “go-to” for whatever I needed. Even now as it sits upon my indoor trainer for most of the year it is the bike I ride more than half the time. If you follow my Blog you know I train an awful lot on the indoor trainer all year around. It’s been regaled with everything from Suntour Sprint and Superbe Pro to Shimano Dura-Ace and Ultegra and many, many odd parts that were lying around and suited the need at the time.While I can’t recall the original color I recon it may have been either day-glo yellow or bright blue. Along the way it has been painted midnight blue w/ white highlights, black to silver fade, blue to white fade and finally school bus yellow always with the pebbly finish that only a rattle-can can achieve. Note the down tube. Our Golden Retriever Marley is prepping the frame, in his own way, for new dressing should I decide to do so. I know the frame is made of Pinerello proprietary steel tubing only because I remember the frame sticker was not Columbus, Deddaci or any of the other well know steel tubing manufacturers. The Pat Clark at Clark-Kent in Lakewood Co did the honors of brazing canti bosses to the original fork and seat stays. The clearance allowed worry free ‘cross racing in conditions that might otherwise clog the eye of a needle. Dense fog would cause a mucky buildup that would force me to hike-a-bike. The only ‘cross tire I could run was Specialized original 700x28 Tri-Cross, basically a 25 road tire with knobs.

The “grouppo” is a mish-mash of take-off, rip-off and left over parts that I have acquired over the years. The seat post is a steel Aviner “take off” that was original equipment on a Diamondback Apex mtb. The saddle was a price point ti-railed Vapor model from QBP circa 1995. It was cheap; it was ti so I got it. Notice there is no need mark the seat post height as the post is permanently rusted into the seat tube. Drive train is Shimano: Shimano Ultegra 9sp rear mech matched to a Shimano 8sp cassette model unknown. Note the Rasta-style cable end. Bolted to the 1992 170mm Shimano 105 crank set are 39t and 42t chain rings of unknown origin. The cranks are attached to the frame with a BB-UN71 Italian thread cartridge bb that weighs approximately 5 lbs. I thought the short crank arms and low gearing would be ‘cross friendly but have had an unexpected positive effect when used for indoor training. Speedplay Frogs finish off this ensemble. For dusty ‘cross races, these were actually a very effective foot-bike interface. But despite the selling point at the time, they were not friends of the mud.\

The 1” WTB Grease Guard headset exerts it death grip on a 1” Profile quill stem. The stem’s wedge fell out long ago for some unknown reason (I was just riding along…). The stem is permanently rusted to the fork’s steerer so the wedge was just overkill and added unnecessary weight anyway. Suntour’s Grease Guard innovation seemed to make sense for a ‘cross bike thought the grease ports have not seen actual grease in many, many years. Actually steering this bike is a long gone memory since it became my trainer bike. The stem supports deep drop bars in a generous 42cm width. Seeing the picture of Ol’ Yeller’” on my blog my buddy Jon made the astute observation that there were no cables running from my Dura-Ace 7700 STI levers. As there are no breaks on this bike I see no need for break cables. And because the shifting duties have long since been relegated to a pair of 8sp bar end shifters there is no need for shift cables in the STI’s. I know the Dura-Ace components may be a bit of overkill for a bike like this but I’ve been to races where the entire bike under the rider is overkill. Besides, the shit’s so old it has long since outlived the “Ooooo” factor.

28 hole Mavic Open4 CD’s are laced to a pair of 15 year old Shimano Ultegra hubs by straight 14 gauge spokes and purple alloy nipples. Anodized purple bits were hot back in the days after day-glow green wore out its welcome and before black became the new……black. Old tires from my road bike end their days on this rear wheel dying a slow, hot death against the resistance of the indoor trainer.

This bike stays semi-permanently mounted to my indoor trainer; removed only on race days when the trainer is used in conjunction of my “regular” bike for pre-race warm-up and to do specific work on my TT rig. I’d say I do about 80% of my training on this set-up. I can sweat and spit and torque and stomp on this rig and do not have to worry about abusing it or worry about any maintenance more than inflating the tires now and again. I don’t lube the chain. Because I train with an iPod as far as I know the drive train runs silent, if not deep. Somewhere in its lifetime, between all the tinkering and tweaking the fit became 100% dialed in and the rust has saved the settings for all eternity. Besides a workhorse trainer, this bike serves as the template for the measurements for all (both) my other bikes since everything is rusted into place for all eternity.

If you got something in your garage that may stand beside my trusty steed let’s see it. I’ll introduce you to my other bikes another time.

2009-05-01T19:44:00.000-07:00

For six months I watched my mother fight the good fight against gall bladder cancer. The last three were particularly rough and riding my bike was about the furthest thing from my mind. The closest thing to training I had done between January and April was attempt to read a copy of VeloNews. So now as I try to return to some sense of normalcy training seems to be the ideal therapy. However it did not take me long to realize that while the rest of the So Cal peloton was racing full gas, I was left at the start line.

My first reaction seemed calm and rational at the time: rework my training calendar to include several weeks of two-a-day workouts in order to catch up, including core strength training. By Saturday of the first week the underlying panic of my plan reared its ugly head and sank its teeth into my joints and muscles, an all to familiar reminder that I am too old for this kind of fool hearted approach to training.

As I set out to re-tool my training plan I found my thoughts veering less toward actually training and more toward how to best deal with set-backs and adversity. The principles of training are actually quite simple but how they are applied to a specific set of circumstances is a bit more difficult. Jack London said that, “Life is not a matter holding good cards but rather our ability to play a poor had well.”

So here is my take on how to play a bad hand:

Let go – Marvin Zauderer gives some great advice on "letting go." For me, it means letting go of most of my racing goals for 2009. For some, it may mean not riding while recovering from an injury. Don’t stress because you can’t ride, let the bike go, concentrate on getting better. It may mean letting go so you can spend more time with your family or at your "real" job. Stress inhibits recovery, mentally, physically, spiritually, emotionally and in order to get back on track you need to be 100% in every aspect of your life. Besides, stress is not fun and fun is the real reason we ride bikes in the first place. Let go of the stressors.

Be patient – No matter what kind and how deep the hole is you are digging yourself out of, it’s going to take as long as it’s going to take to get out. You can’t rush it. Trying to do too much too soon will have the opposite affect and you will find you have made your hole deeper than before. Overtraining, injury, loss of motivation will all compound the adversity you are trying to overcome. Ditching the two-a day workouts, 200 mile weekends and puke inducing intervals, for now anyway. A slow steady buildup has more staying power.

Have fun - This is a good time to get back to you roots, the reason you began riding the bike in the first place. Have fun again.

Turn that frown upside down - Maybe whatever roadblock was put in your path really isn't a block at all. Maybe we are not derailed by adversity but are being put back on track, the right track. It is not hard to lose your way if, over time, you loose sight on the big picture by focusing too much on the details.

It's short list. But overtime, these things become more difficult to do, especially as we get older and more "seasoned." If you've got anything to the list, let's hear it.

Back on Course

2009-04-20T21:06:00.000-07:00

The original intent of my blog was to chronicle the life of a full-time husband and father in his/my quest to be competitive in the sport of competitive amature bicycle racing. I wanted to highlight unique problems associated with a sport that requires a full-time commitment, even at the amature level, and the creative means in which they are overcome. My hope was to build a following among racers in a similar circumstance and hopeful create a form for racers like myself.

Anyone (anyone?) who has read my previous posts knows that I veered a little off course. Which again, only demonstrates the difficulty in doing anything while trying to raise a family at the same time. However, nothing is impossible and after three months of not training (I'll tell you about that another time) it's time to salvage the season, this blog and my life.

Before 3 weeks ago I had not been on my bike since January 5 of this new year. So I am starting from zero building my base fitness with a combination of moderate bike miles, running and core straining. The biggest obstacle between me and my goals is time. Time to train and time to rest/recover. Finding time to recover from a training session is particularly difficult. A man with 4 kids is not afforded the luxury of climbing off the bike after a 4 hour ride, sitting down with his legs elevated, sipping a cool recovery drink while watching the tape delay of Le Tour. Stretching? No. Message? Uh, uh. Chiropractic? Dream on. Shower? Honey, why don't you clean the garage since you are already sweaty? Besides, we don't have to be at my sisters until six so we have time to go the market when you are done.

Consequently, I'm wiped out by the end of the day and can kiss any kind of quality training tomorrow goodbye. This is where the downward spiral of missed workouts, rationalization (the bad kind), rescheduling begins. OK, today will be my recovery day. I can miss one more day and train extra hard tomorrow. Yeah, I can go. Today was my real rest day anyway. It's all goo...bullshit. It's all bullshit. But like they say, when life gives you bullshit, plant a garden.

Like today, for instance. I was able to work a little late, come home, run and errand, water the lawn, train AND post on my blog. But I can't help but think there is something I didn't do...I spent all of 10 minutes with my 6 year old daughter today. See what I mean. something has always got to give. Or does it. stay with me on this one and let's see if I can keep all the balls in the air and the rubber side down, preferably in first place.

Happy Boys

2009-03-26T08:07:00.000-07:00

This is our new kit design for 2009. On paper it looks cool. On the bike it looks cool.

But there is a reason why black and blue are so popular in the peloton.

Oh My God!

2009-02-03T22:01:00.000-08:00

First a few housekeeping items:

I'm not usualluy one to use the OMG phrase, " Holy Shit" is more my style but didn't think it would send the right message.
Some of you (more like both of you) may have noticed that my spelling leaves something to be desired. Get over it, you know what I mean.
My site looks like crap. I'm not a computer guy. I never made the leap from Pong to Astroids. Again, get over it. Someday I'll learn but it is not high on my list.

So I get this eamil from and old friend of mine I haven't heard from in over 10 years; hence the "Oh My God!" When I called him on the phone we just fell into conversation like we never lost touch. After a few minutes of catch-up the conversation turned to our shared passion of bicycles. We talked as if we were back at the coffee shop (was it The Java Hut?) downing espresso's after a ride.

While I have no regrets about where life has taken me, or where I've taken my life, that conversation did make me realize that the truest, most happy times of my life were back in Colorado where my life, such as it was, revolved around bikes. If I had known what I had at the time I probably would not have left Colorado. It's funny how you lose the significance of what you have when you set your sights on what (you think) you want.

A day has not gone by that I don't wish I were back working at the shop. Even still. A day has not gone by that I have not thought of a way back into the business...no, it's more of a lifestyle...no, a culture. And like any other culture, no matter where you go 0r what you do, it is always with you. Bikes are in my blood. The ony thing that equals it is the passion I have for my daughter and I hope she shares my passion someday too.

They say if you believe hard enough, your dreams will come true. Tonight, I hope I dream of bikes. Brad, thanks for finding me. Jon, thanks for doing what you love.

Don't look back!

2008-12-31T07:39:00.000-08:00

As an athlete, we are constantly told, "Don't look back!" The race is in front of you, not behind you. So I have always found it awkward at this time to review the expiring year and take stock of what went right and what went wrong. I think for most of us the latter list is quite a bit longer than the former although that does not necessarily mean the year was a bust.

At 46, I've lived long enough to know how my year went by how it ended without having to look back. In fact, I'm quite the opposite in that I cannot wait to get started on the new "To Do" list. Evaluating the past is just a way for people to somehow justify and rationalize their failures rather than just accepting them and moving on.

Rather than looking at what went right and what went wrong you must analyze why things worked or did not work. Look at the larger picture. Maybe something did not work not because it was the wrong thing to do but it was executed in the wrong context. Or maybe, the outcome was not the expected or desired outcome but, upon further analysis, it was the best outcome. Sometimes things happened for reason and and we have to recognize that, accept it, adapt and go with the flow.

It is 8:00 AM on December 31, 2008 and as time races toward 2009 my sight is fixed firmly on they days, weeks and months ahead. Good luck to you all and may the new year bring you smooth roads, down hills and tailwinds.

What's On My iPod

2008-12-22T21:47:00.000-08:00

My brother gave me a CD some weeks back and I blindly added to my iTunes library and then to my iPod where it sat, unplayed, until last weekend. Now, I'm a bit different than most in that I absolutely cannot stand hip hop and (c)rap. Euro-techno-pop is like a bad carnival ride to me. Today's rock and roll does neither. Metal is is juvenile. I like country western music, preferably pre-90's. I like symphonic and chamber music. I like rhythm and blues. I like real rock and roll.

So as I rolled through the foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains last weekend it was Gordon Lightfoot's Carefree Highway and Glen Campbells' Wichita Lineman that provided the wind at my back. While I'm not one to "dance on my pedals" as I climb I was quite literally possessed to do so when Herb Alpert's staccato trumpet blew Casino Royale and Taste of Honey. And I just couldn't help dropping it down a cog or two when Boz Skaggs broke out with Georgia. And just one more cog to Dusty Springfield's Son of a Preacher Man. Johnny Rivers, Three Dog Night, Helen Reddy, Paul Simon, Malo, Charlie Rich, Todd Rundgren, Elton John, Billy Joel, Chicago, Blood, Sweat and Tears and on and on...And I only listened to about of third of the music on my three hour ride.

The point here is that for me, music must have substance. Without it, it is just noise. I may tap my toes, hum a few bars but I doesn't touch my soul the way the classics do. I call them classic not because the music is older but because the songs are classic examples of their genre. It's the difference between a poem and a limerick. Hearing these songs was like seeing old friends after so many years.Thanks for the music Ed.

Resistance Training

2008-12-14T19:15:00.000-08:00

Mom is doing well these days, quite well in fact. For they type of cancer mom has, the best case scenario is that the disease does not spread or does not spread rapidly. Right now, mom's is a best case scenario. Just in case you were wondering.

I've talked before about the importance of having a wife, husband, girlfriend or boyfriend who understands why you ride your bike. In my case, I guess I have the next best thing: a wife who tolerates my bike habit. The difference is that when I say, "I have to go for a ride today," her mind thinks, "He doesn't have to go for a ride." Now if I were a professional bike racer making our living on my bike, that would be a different story...and it is. It's the difference between seeing a bike racer riding down the driveway and up the street knowing she will not be back for 4 hours versus just seeing a bike rider doing the same. It goes way beyond understanding the physiology of training and performance. The closest thing I can think of to describe it is alcohol, drugs or smoking; except that there is no real physical dependency on riding your bike. OK, yes, it keeps you healthy blah, blah, blah...But is that the real reason we devote the time and resources we do to it? It may have started that way but that is not the way it ended.

For me, I know my mood changes when I'm not on the bike on a regular basis. My temper is a little quicker on the draw, my sense of humor is shyer, I'm less easy going. And I am some other things too that I won't mention just in case the kids are reading. But having Charles home to help with the laundry, whatever his mood, is better than doing the laundry by herself. I know that if I really wanted to, I could just go for my ride and I do. But in my mind, I know I'm not a pro and that the reality is that I don't have to go for a ride. And like I tell my kids, do what you have to do first, then do what you want to do.

Knowing that my wife really, really does not want me out on the road is like a rope pulling me back. Mentally, I'm ripped in two by my need/desire to be out on the bike and my wife's desire to have me home. Rather than paying attention to my heart rate and power output I'm constantly monitoring my time away versus my effort trying to determine if I have trained enough and of the appropriate quality that I can turn around and go home now. The thought of my wife at home, watching the clock, counting the minutes until I get home is like pulling the entire peleton up the Alp d'Huez. It re-defines resistance training. It is more like resistance to training and every pedal stroke is just a little, actually a lot, harder. You'd think I would be Lance by now with this type of training year after year...

I'd like to think that I'm not alone on this one so if anyone cares to chime in please do so.

Now Is The Time...

2008-11-05T20:18:00.000-08:00

Now is the time for a lot of things. Unless you've been in outer space the last year or more you know we just elected a new president yesterday an now is the time for change. I won't tell you what has made it so special, get your own ass out a buy a newspaper...and read it. Now is the time to take stock of the last year and figure out what went right and what went wrong and make a plan to be better next year. Now is the time to do all the things you always wanted to do. And I mean right now!

It is still difficult to listen to my mom talk about the future. A few months ago the future was next Spring, next year, when she turns 70, when her granddaughter graduates high school...Now the future doesn't exist past the next month or so. Yes, it may be longer than that and there is a good chance that it will be, but there is no certainty in that assumption.

Just because I or you (is anyone really reading this?) do not have cancer or some other terminal illness does not mean our futures extend any farther than my mom's. We could die tonight in any number of ways. So you can guess my point in all this...enjoy life now, while you can. Check items off your bucket list starting today. Here are just a few of the things I intend to start as soon as I am done here:
1. Start my own web site.
2. Ride my bike, indoors or out, I don't care.
3. Tell my mom I love her (actually I already did this one earlier this evening).
4. Try to get Josh Horowitz interviewed by Competitor Magazine.

Not Fine

2008-10-10T21:25:00.000-07:00

Two weeks ago, everything was fine. When I walked into the office each morning when people asked how I was doing I said fine. Some days I was "finer" than others but for the most part I was fine. Besides, people who ask don't really want to know how you are doing. They ask out of courtesy and you respond with, "fine" out of the same courtesy because you don't want to dump your emotional garbage on them as much as they don't want to be dumped on. This exchange is more of an acknowledgement like, "Good morning (afternoon or evening)!"

Yes, two weeks ago I can honestly say I was fine. Then last week, in the blink of an eye, I was not fine. Not the "My car is in the shop so I have to take the bus but I'm fine anyway" not-fine. It was "My mother has cancer" not-fine. And that was (is) exactly the root of my not-fineness. In for a routine gallbladder removal the surgeon discovered cancer had invaded the strange little organ and spread to the tissue encapsulating her abdominal organs. You can't say you are "fine" after you are given this kind of news. But you can not tell everyone why you are not-fine either.

Not that death is new to me. My father died at a young age and several aunts and my parents have all died in my lifetime. But for some reason, despite the fact I know we all have to go sometime, in the back of my mind I always thought my mom would always be around. The thought of my world without her was unimaginable at best. Such has been her presence and influence in my life. I should be comforted by the fact that my mom will be wit my dad after all these years and in a better place than I, but I'm not. I've been down the wrong path several times in my life but this is the first time in my 45 (going on 46 years) that I feel lost. My North Star just fell out of the sky. My magnetic North just lost its polarity. The sun in my life will on longer light my way. I am definitely not fine.

If outward appearences are any indication, my mom is "fine." She's seems to be taking all this very well...she has always had strength the belies her petite physique. She is confident and content because she has lived a good life. Which is why I guess I am not-fine; who would choose such a life to end so soon. My mom is not unique in this, history is full of good people whose lives ended before they should have. But this is MY MOM we're talking about here.

Someday, things will be fine again. But just not now.

On the Road to Nowhere...

2008-10-03T15:04:00.000-07:00

As I get more into this blog and the idea of turning it into a full fledged website I have become more introspective. I mean, I’ve always wondered what I am all about but always stopped short of actually trying to find the answer, preferring (wishing) to believe that the answer would come to me in some sort of mini-revelation where back-yard fireworks go off in my head synchronized to Van Halen’s “Right Now” being played on a the chimes of a music box. But the more I write the more I feel I have something to say though I’m not quite sure what it is. I actually have a lot to say (ask me about anything and I’ll give you my opinion, like it or not) but how does it all tie in? What am I actually trying to say? Does it even really matter? And if it does, will anybody listen (read)?

With the impending time change back to what nature intended, I will have plenty of time to pursue the answers perched atop my indoor trainer. No amount of visual or audio distraction can ease the ass-numbing, mouth-drooling, brain-fading pain of indoor trainer miles. So in order to stay on the darn thing long enough to obtain any physical benefit the mind must turn inside itself and venture into the land of deep thoughts. What better place to get lost in thought? If you get too distracted how bad can a crash at 0 mph be? The effect on the brain of prolonged indoor trainer miles is, I’m sure, very similar to the pharmaceuticals favored by Huxley, Thompson and Morrison.

As I seek myself I will try not to let myself be biased by the voices of the hundreds of motorists who, in passing, have offered their opinion of who and/or what I am. As for my first week of “training,” it was pretty uneventful: A total of 5 ½ hours, to date, on the indoor trainer and tow gym sessions. No a huge calorie consuming expenditure of energy so I’m trying to avoid the sweets.

This post has no title...

2008-09-25T20:49:00.000-07:00

I know it's been a while since the last post. Don't worry, not much has been happening. I've mostly been thinking about my training plan for the upcoming year and sorting my new bike stuff list between things I really want and things I really need. Problem is I really need it all. Did you know I've been riding the same 9 speed Dura-Ace grouppo for over 1o years? As far as I know it works like new and this is precisely why I don't test ride new equipment. I've been training the same legs for over 20 years and they don't work nearly as well as my shifters.

I've been toying with the idea of adding core training to my program this year. Now that I am approaching the top of "the hill" the unanimous advice seems to be quality over quantity. So I'm looking for training methods that give me the most benefit for the time spent. Any suggestions that don't cost a lot of money are greatly appreciated. I'm also committing to working on my mental game more too. I think that goes hand in hand with the quality aspect of training. Besides, I think about cycling more than anything else anyway so I may as well make it productive.

If I can figure out how to post my training progress for you all I will let you in on the secrets of how to hone mediocrity to razor sharpness. Until then, I'll be letting you know how it goes once I get going (in the next week or so).

Oh, Lance

2008-09-10T21:06:00.000-07:00

I was talking to a friend of mine the other day and she asked me what I thought about Lance Armstrong's comeback. She's not what I'd call a bike enthusiast but she knows I am so I was touched when she asked me the question. And Lance is news regardless of your demographic so it's a natural topic of conversation. As I answered her question I thought to myself, "This shit sounds good. I gotta write it down." So here are my thoughts on Lance's comeback. If you're reading this M&M, I'm sorry but this is old news to you.

First of all I think he should just be truthful about his reason for re-entering the pro-peloton...its not about the cancer. I agree with Bob Stapleton http://www.cyclingnews.com/news.php?id=news/2008/sep08/sep10news1 this point. Now I'm not quite sure what it is about but as long as it's not vanity Bob and I are OK with it.

Will he win an eight Tour? I don't know. He certainly has the ability to do it as well as the support. I think he knows what it takes to win Le Tour better than anyone else in the biz and a lot of riders have adopted at least parts of in methods in their own race prep. I think there are too many variables to predict exactly how he will perform. I do think that he will not perform poorly. Even if he doesn't come out on the top step he will be damn close.

I definitely agree that his (or is it "His?") comeback will be good for cycling in the United States. He'll definitely motivate people to become interested in the sport at some level and that can only mean more money going to support its success. That in turn will encourage more people to get involved and so on and so on and so on...

I also think his comeback will guarantee big bucks being pumped into the Euoro-bike scene as everyone gets in line to buy a ticket for a ride on the Lance Train. Sponsor money, media money, marketing money, prize money...money is good for the sport, period. However I must say that the 2008 cycling season was different from the last several in that it was truly about bike racing. While Lance was fun to watch and I was glued to the coverage as anyone else, 2008 was about the sport and not an individual or scandal. That was refreshing. And 2009 will be less about Lance the bike racer and more about "The Comeback" like it is a thing unto itself.

No doubt that Lane has been good for the sport internationally but you have to admit Lance has been good for Lance too. As much as he will hate to admit it, he will have a hard time getting people to listen to his plans to rid the world of cancer. His work in that area is noble and good and necessary but people are willing to leave that business to him. They support by association not by any real desire to do contribute to the cause. Sorry, but if anyone out there really supports his cause they will do more than buy and wear a yellow wristband. And I'll admit, to those that have...you are better people than I am. The world needs you.

If anything, 2009 will be an interesting read and fun to watch. And if her retires, again, at the end of the season the sport will feel the effects and reap the benefits for many years after. Good luck Lance...and if I forget to tell you later, thanks for the memories...

Puppy Feet

2008-09-05T11:25:00.000-07:00

Someone once told me that the purest, most lovable thing in the whole wide world is puppy feet. The soft, pink pillows of a freshly minted pup that have only ever felt the soft fuzzy surface of the blanket in mom's basket and the slippery smooth surface of the kitchen floor. Puppy feet have a distinct sound as they pad across the tile or carpet; the sound alone brings a smile to your face. If you combine the definitions of pureness, joy and innocence the word would be "Puppy Feet."

Then comes the day you let them out to the back yard for the first time. Pink begins to turn brown; smooth becomes rough and soft becomes hard and calloused. Rocks, slivers of wood and glass lay in wait for their chance to leave their mark. No matter home much they slobber and lick and roll and play the pureness is gone forever, erased by the influence of our world

So as my daughter walked single file with the rest of the kindergartners into her new classroom for the first time I thought of puppy feet. How will the world shape her? How can one dad compete with the global society? I'll tell you one thing, I'm not going down without a fight.

If there is one thing I hope to instill in my daughter is that the world is what you make it. There are countless Phoenix stories out there: of people who see beauty when ugly is all around them; of people who rise out of the despair of their own lives; of people who smile on Mondays. The world changed when Carla was born. Beautiful flowers had sharp thorns so I had to be sure to teach her to look but not touch; the ground was hard so I had to be there to catch her if she fell; the ocean currents were strong and could take her from me in an instant; the sun is hot and bright so put on plenty of sun screen and so on. My world became a dangerous place.

But because of Carla, it was not long before I also began to notice the little red lady bug with 3 black dots on each wing as it crawled over the thorn; that the ground is a good place for a picnic; that the ocean washes tiny, tiny sea shells onto the beach and if the sun gets too hot you just sit in the shade and drink lemonade.

I thought it was up to me to show Carla how to navigate life on this earth but it is really turning out to be the other way around. There are still a few lessons that I need to teach her though, like armpit farts are funny, just not in church. And puppy feet make you smile.

2008-09-03T21:13:00.000-07:00

I wrote this in my journal after a particularly poor showing at the San Dimas Stage Race in 2007. I was frustrated and blaming everyone and everything but myself. I really do love my wife:

Ok, let's be honest...I love my wife just like the next guy (loves his wife) but when you show up at races don't you always look at the other guys wife with just a little envy? You know the one I'm talking about...the wife/mechanic/soungier/director//////. This wife runs the household while your out on 6-hour training rides. She shuttles the kids to school, practice, the doctor, etc. cooks nutritionally sound meals and washes your grimy kit. She knows not to put your chamois in the dryer.

She is already up when she wakes you at 4:00 am for the 3 hour drive to the race course. She gassed the car the night before and downloaded directions to the course to your phone and packed snacks for the kids. She knows what side to pin your number on and can change a while faster than a diaper. She doesn't even blink when she sees a $,2000 charge to your credit card for a pair of carbon hoops you absolutely must have or you'll never keep up with the front of the pack.

You've seen her...She's the gal putting clamping the wheels onto the rack of the guy who just kicked your butt in the field sprint. But is she is the Holy Grail of wifedom then most of us are drinking from the 6-for-$1 IKEA cup.

Does this sound familiar? Riding the in-door trainer three or more times a week because the only time you have more than an hour to yourself is after 8:30 pm, when all the kids are asleep. You wake up at 3:00 am on Saturday to be on the bike by 4:00 am so you can be back by 8:00 am...in time to take the kids to (fill in the blank) practice or game. Breakfast consists of 2 PowerBars and a banana eaten during the last hour of your ride.You have to explain why you you used the debit card to pay $5 for a new tube when you had a perfectly good one when you left the house that morning...Why do you need to spend $150 on a helmet when Target has them on sale for $15? Why do 25 vents cost so much when you only getting less helmet for the money? And when you are all kitted up with your bike over your shoulder she asks, "Where are you going?"

To most wives, the only thing more boring that The Tour is watching paint dry...And speaking of drying paint, when am I going to paint the hallway? She refers to Lance Armstrong as, "That bastard who divorced his wife to date a rock star." When you arrive home from the race she asks, "Why didn't you win?" OUCH!

So next time your wife calls you on the cell in the middle of a group ride to ask when you will be coming home remember why you married her... Dude, don't look at me, she's your wife...I don't know either.

2008-08-31T19:34:00.001-07:00

So I'm thinking about my goals for 2009...cycling goals that is. Top 10 at State ITT is one. I'd also like to podium a race or two and place top 20 more often than not. I'd like to train more consistently too. These may change over the next few months and I will probably add one or two more just to make the year interesting..., in fact I'd bet on it if I were you.

As I think about how I'm going to achieve my goals I am also thinking about everything else I have to do that doesn't involve 2 wheels and lycra. Volunteer at my kids schools, help with homework, try to keep my house from falling apart, work, figure out (legal) ways to make more money, sleep, write my blog, be a husband, be a father, sleep and then if there is any time left train and race.

The pros depict a day in their life as hectic, monotonous, stressful and sometimes scary. But when it comes right down to it all they really have to do is ride their bike and when they are done riding their bike for the day...rest until it's time to ride it again. How cool would it be actually be able to rest on a rest day. Instead, rest days are spent doing the things that didn't get done because I was riding or riding because I was doing everything but. Even for the riders on the lowest budgeted pro team everything they do is directed toward racing and training. It seems like everything in an amatures life tries to keep them from riding their bike. Don't get me wrong, I don't pretend to believe that all pros live the life of Lance. But when you have a passion you would like for you entire life to revolve around it.

I find myself, more often than not, thinking about my bike; when I'm going to ride it next, what I want to buy for it, and how I wish I were riding it right now. So I guess my goal for 2009 should really be about pursing my passion. I'm way past my prime to become a pro although one never knows when some domestic pro team may need a 45 year old super domestique to mentor their young charges in the finer points of pack finishes. Stay tuned for just how I'm going to pursue my dream...as soon as I figure out what it is.

It's Not About The Money

2008-08-27T08:10:00.000-07:00

As I previously stated, during this time of year I do not feel I must ride my bike and so it follows that neither do I feel that I must write about riding my bike. I am many things to many people, as the title to my blog suggests, depending on the day and time. Yesterday, and every Tuesday, I am a parent volunteer at my daughters elementary school for the weekly BINGO game. Yes, I am a BINGOista. For those not familiar with the private, Catholic education system, the income from fundraisers is very important to the annual budget of the school and BINGO is a major contributor. As the school relies on this game so to does the local retirement community as a means to give away large portions of their fixed incomes and thus justify bitching about the cost of their meds. But God love 'em they keep my tuition reasonable so I do my best to accommodate them.

BINGO as it is played today is a far cry from the BINGO I played as a kid with flimsy, cardboard cards and navy beans. And there are other games going on in addition to "just" BINGO. These sub-games are in the form of "flash cards" or "pull tabs" and resemble lottery tickets. For $1 a pop the player gets a chance to win between $250 and $500 if their card contains the right combination of numbers. While their bodies may be weary and feeble, the minds of these AARP members are sharp and there are some very ingenious techniques employed in order to ensure they take home a big score. One common technique is to cut and paste numbers from several losing flash cards onto another card in order to make it a winner. While most attempts are amateurish and the offender quickly caught, some are quite good and would make an inmates wife proud. These are skills obviously honed during countless hours spent in arts and crafts sessions held at senior centers and retirement homes across the city.

I have a hard time believing they do it for the money as more often than not they lose more money than they win and even if they win a jackpot they probably spent more to get it than what they took home. With limited opportunities for real excitement I believe may of them cheat just for the rush; the adrenaline surge that comes from knowing they just might get caught. A lot like people who have sex in public, it's not about the sex, it's about the possibility of getting caught. Now I don't condone grandma and grandpa's method of getting their kicks, but the image of their half-naked bodies in a corner booth at Denny's, having sex while their $4 breakfasts (including senior discount) get cold is rather disturbing.

No Pressure

2008-08-25T20:06:00.000-07:00

The season is over now. But it doesn't mean I don't have to ride my bike; I just don't have to ride my bike. I have to ride my bike to maintain a modicum of fitness during the off season but I don't have to ride because my competitors are. The pressure to ride and the thrill of speed will come soon enough, but now is the time reacquaint myself with the joys of going slow. Since I bike commute to work I leave the bike on the hooks on Saturdays and Sundays and switch the drops for hand tools.

The first order of the off-season is to build the storage shed that has been sitting in the box since May. In a former life I wrenched for several bike shops in Colorado and California. I was a pretty good wrench and thought I had a mechanical inclination. I built five-thousand dollar tri-bikes in San Diego for a shop on PCH, how hard could a shed be? As a bike mechanic you learn to improvise. But when the parts come pre-drilled I don't think you're supposed to make new ones. I thought my effort was a valiant one considering I didn't have to resort to drilling until the last few pieces. A least I didn't have pieces left over and it looked like a shed when I was done.

I have to tip my hat to the guys and gals out there who do this kind of work for a living, day in and day out. I humbly admit that the project kicked my ass. First of all it took me 3 weekends to complete (the shed is 7'x10') and each session left me hurting in places I never hurt before and many places that I have. I haven't let myself go by any means now that the season has ended but this was a classic example of specificity of training. When I'm not riding my bike I'm an insurance agent (please don't hold that against me until you know me); not exactly hard labor though challenging in it own right.

My next project is to plant bulbs and move the palm trees planted in my front yard to the back yard. I wonder what date the Boulevard Road Race will be on next year?

Please Be Patient

2008-08-21T06:42:00.000-07:00

I know you all can't wait to read what is on my mind but please be patient with me while I move into my new digs.