The Second Half

That's it

2011-08-18T14:20:00.000-07:00

Blog = over.

I'll still keep reading yours.

Catching Up

2011-08-10T10:26:00.001-07:00

Fresh off a second place in Wausau, WI in the 24 hour co-ed category, I stepped off the plane in Flagstaff and thought “Why the f*ck would anyone tolerate the weather in the Midwest?” It was 68 degrees at 6pm with 20% humidity. It was the first time in 10 days that my clothes didn’t feel attached to my body.

I had already answered my own question though. I could still live there because the Midwest has thousands of lakes and rivers to play in, and there are pockets of singletrack that are just plain fun as shit. Nice, right? Fun as shit is the best way to describe 9 mile swamp/forest in Wausau. It’s tight, dark, muddy, slippery, and super fast if you stay off your brakes.

Getting back in the swing of things at work was a bit choppy due to child-like employees who abuse each other when I’m gone. It’s like having 30 children, and you leave to go grocery shopping, only to come home and there are tears, shouting, and somebody’s feelings are hurt. Children, please. Just shut the fu*k up and do your jobs. Once I got that all dialed back into place it was time for a lil’ surprise from the Spartan Training Center in Sedona.

Friday morning. Bag Toss. Sounds basic, right? Trainer stands 2 feet across from me with a 75 pound bag of sand and throws it to me. I catch, and throw it back. Here’s the tricky part. Left, right, up, left, left, down in front, right, right….I have no idea where the bag is being tossed. So I have to get my feet under it, catch that dead weight, and throw it back to the trainer who is set in one spot. It’s a workout for him….but it’s a nightmare for me. At one point in the final set I stood, with the bag in my arms, for a good 10 seconds physically unable to move. I called the trainer a fucker and chucked it, only to have him toss it back at my head with a laugh. That was a hard over the shoulder sandbag catch that almost took me to the floor. Fucker! 7 sets of one minute each + a minute rest in between. I’m done and out of there in 15 minutes. Once the outrageous adrenaline high wore off, the red tide pain train crept in. Then it steamrolled in and could not be stopped. Saturday morning I could not bend over. Sunday morning I could not bed over. Monday I was able to just get my socks on for work and I went back to Spartan for a circuit. Mentally I let go of the tight muscles in my back and I was able to complete it even though it included pulling a sled across gravel, sprints, and tractor tire flips. Legs, arms, shoulders and abs - ruined.

C-Dub wanted to ride yesterday and I wanted to catch up with my brother from another mother, but I was still feeling the red tide in my whole body. Fuck it. I went on the ride, and as always it went from an easy pace to a monster climb on new singletrack to the base of the ski resort. Jesus H Christ, we were climbing from 5p – 7p straight. I got to the top and just felt overwhelming relief to be done standing over my pedals. Time to go downhill…home. Unfortunately, I went into the red because I didn’t want to walk any of the pitches, and that meant I engulfed L’s dinner without a word, said “I’m out” - brushed my teeth and crashed into my mattress. She was beat from Spartan too, and neither of us heard a noise until fucking Ke$ha blared out of the CD player at 5am. Thanks Lyza, for that Lil’ treat.

I wouldn’t want it any other way though. The pain train, the work crisis, and all the while laughing my ass off because life is so g-damn fun thanks to good friends, family, and my baby girl. Sometimes it takes a vacation to make me appreciate what I have in this life.

Teammates

2011-07-20T18:18:00.000-07:00

Six of us showed up for a lil' King of the Mountain race last night. The roads were soaked from about two hours of rain, so the warmup out to Snowbowl Road was wet, grimy, nasty, and did I mention wet? I was soaked through my shoes, but it was warm so I didn't really mind. We made the turn on to a mostly dry SB Road, and it was on. Two chicks, and four dudes - all of us after PR's.

I was already sufferin' a bit from the day before, but I was mentally in the game. We gapped the chix over the course of the first mile, and then I got dropped one by one by the other three dudes. I was OK with that, because I spin a low gear on the steeps, and so long as I kept them within sight, I was mentally fine. The false flats arrived after 4 miles of steep shit, and I shifted down and went off to catch some wheels. C-Dub. I caught him and he called me a fucker as soon as I went by. I had to laugh. Next was MG, but I never made it to him. I ran out of road. No excuses. PJ was another two minutes up the road. The chix were about a mile and a half back. Mid pack Chris - once again.

I was worked, and I would have never ever ever pushed myself that hard if I had been riding solo. When I ride with others in a competitive setting, it's a combination of pride, self respect, and knowing that I left it all out there that keeps me going at the limit. I was still a full 2.5 minutes off my personal best, but I was also six minutes faster than when I did the climb last month. That tells me that it's there if I need it, but it's not exactly 'on demand'.

Normally a beer after that kind of effort, but not last night. A shot of espresso just so I had the energy to fold laundry, and clean up the kitchen. As soon as they were done, I was done.

Crunchin time

2011-07-18T13:54:00.000-07:00

Due to life, my only time to ride this past weekend was Sunday at 8:30pm. So, niterider - check. And off I go into the woods. Lately, well it hasn't been lately. I haven't ridden at night since last fall. Those cold-ass night rides don't do much for encouraging a repeat. Midsummer rides at night - they give me a million reasons to rinse and repeat.

Night riding is like skiing/snowboarding....it doesn't take long at all to get used to it again after a layoff. I had a blast out there and even had the pleasure of riding up on an older gent sifting through his SUV cargo who, startled, said "it's a little late isn't it?"...to which I replied "It's never to late to ride". I could have been douchy, or called him a fucker because he was being a fucker, but what I said just slipped out, and off I went into the darkness. It was a light rain the whole ride, and by light I mean about a handfull of drops every half a minute or so. Traction was divine, and I have to say that I'm feelin' ready to roll in Wausau in a couple of weeks.

King o' the Mountain race on Tuesday night. 6 miles. 2,000 feet. First one up gets bragging rights, and gets to force everybody to turn around whereaver they are in their climb and follow all the way back down. Love me some R3 racing right now.

Chix sports

2011-07-15T12:09:00.000-07:00

What the hell and how is it Friday? My daughter’s birthday is a week from today, and it is a sliding glass door in the face reminder that the last 10 years of my life have absolutely flown by. We went to Target on Tuesday to pick up bathrooms supplies for a few of our condos at work, and while we were there we managed to locate a copy of FIFA 2011 and a sweet new sk8r girl helmet. She’s wayyyy into the women’s world cup, and I have to say that I am too. So it’s been FIFA games errrry’ night all week. Love me some Lyza Bee.

Speaking of chix, there are only three women’s sports worth watching: Soccer, tennis, and mountain biking. Ladies - you can keep your versions of basketball, road cycling, and track/field.

I had a good week of short but sweet rides despite Lyza’s camp schedule and my work schedule. Sun, Mon, Wed all featured 1-2 hours of greatness on dust abated trails thanks to steady monsoon rains. Tuesday was an experience that I’m enjoying more and more:

I gathered an “across the board” group of R3 riders at my lil’ local 1.3 mile circuit course. Cat III to Cat VI ultra beginners. We paired up into 5 teams, and rode a 10 mile time trial with the point being that the stronger rider in each pair would work with the newbie. I was paired up with a chick named Julie – always liked that name for a girl, and while she has been on many long, slow group rides, she had never ridden wheel to wheel, or drafted a wheel, or pushed her heart rate above 85% and held it there. It took a lap for me to find her max, and we backed it off from there and traded pulls for 27 minutes. Crosswind? Yup.. She had to half wheel me and she was nervous about it. I promised I wouldn’t swipe her front wheel and by lap 3 she was tucked in and saving energy. The corners were tough for her too as she didn’t trust her tires to hold through the apex of a turn at 20+ mph. We crossed the line in last place out of all of the pairs but not by much, and Julie was knackered, but smiling big time. So we ended up with 5 newbie riders going home completely stoked for our next lil’ circuit race, and 5 experienced riders taking pride in their work and toasting with beers as the sun wound down. Winning all around, I must say. I would much rather grow our team that way, than just taking on experienced riders who think a wee bit too much of themselves.

BTW I still can’t stand triathletes.

Irondouche Part 2

2011-07-10T14:18:00.000-07:00

So we post a team ride yesterday on facebook. 45 miles, moderate pace, all welcome. Mr. Flagstaff Ironman responds with a 'I may come, but I would have to turn around early. I'm not scheduled to go that far".

Scheduled. Who's your coach bro, 'cause either that fucker needs to be fired or you need to retire. Dude, shut the fuck up. Either you can go, or you can't, do we need to know that you are obviously on an elite level training plan that the rest of us are surely missing out on?

Next thing I know he'll pull up with a 'run bike swim' license plate frame. I think I puked in my mouth writing that.

Irondouche

2011-07-09T19:50:00.000-07:00

It sure was great to see Teejay VanGarderen take a flyer off the front today. A friend of mine in Flagstaff knows Teejay from his time in Montana and swears up and down that the guy is humble, cool, and deserves everything he's getting. Sure, he's way too young to podium, but that's the coolest part - he'll be around for a while as Leipheimer, Horner, and Hincapie are sure to be done in the very near future.

So yeah, I caught some of the stage to Super Besse this morning after getting out for a sweet lil' ride myself. One could say I'm "training" for the Wausau race coming up but that is so not the case. I'm riding because I love it, and today was one of those days where my bike was just an extension of my body which was an extension of my brain. I thought left, right, up and over, quick shot of brakes, and accelerate - and it flowed through me and into the steel, the tires and into the dirt. I knackered a pedal on a rock once, but other than that it was a 99.9%'er on a loop that usually causes either brain, or physical failure in one way or another.

"Training"? I'm done with that word, and everything that it stands for. My dab into endurance riding peaked this fall, and I realized soon after that all I was really doing was experimenting with my chronic pain limits, and running from something. All endurance racers are running from something. So now that all of that shit is over, it's back to haulin' ass for the fun of it, and rediscovering my acute pain limits. Love the pain train, but I wanna' floor the bitch and then get off it in under two hours - - - and crack a beer at the train station.

OK, so I read this dude's story of how he finished a 140.6 (had to slip that in instead of writing 'Ironman') in Texas a coupla' months back. He's on my cycling team, but I've never met him. What does that say? Anway...He finished, in 15 hours. 15 hours. He walked the entire marathon, and he still got a hard on when the announcer said "--- -------, from Flagstaff - you are an IRONMAN" at the finish line.... in the dark. OK, and I'm pre-apologizing for being an asshole, but is there really anything great, much less is there even a need to swim like an infnat for more than an hour, ride a $5,000 time trial bike at a pedestrian 16mph, and walk 26 miles? I guess you get the David Duchovney award for enduring with a bunch of other wealthy white people in a controlled environment. Oh and guess what, he also was injured on the play. Seems he overtaxed his achilles. Really? I mean he obviously trained so hard for this, I'm shocked?!

Ironman jumped the shark a while ago. I think it actually jumped the shark when TIMEX put the name on a line of watches you can buy for under $20. Kinda like, anyone can wear one/be one, if you've got plenty of time.

Pity Party

2011-07-07T19:48:00.000-07:00

Doin' donuts in the street on our mountain bikes, me and Lil' Bee were just waitin' on a friend to roll around the corner. Waaay too many thoughts were goin' through my head about this, that, and the other. Shit. I even started feeling sorry for myself until I saw a woman pushing a wheelchair down the street with a severely handicapped man flailing to express himself - or not. Just, flailing. It didn't take more than a second to shut the pity party down. Dude, you are an asshole. You've got your brains, your body, your health, an education, a family who cares about you, and solid friends. All of that went through my head in the few seconds that the wheelchair took to be pushed from being in front of me to behind me. Call that shit out. Are you kidding me?

Admittedly, some of that angst was still with me on Wednesday night before our lil' bike team's ITT night. Merckx style - no time trial bikes - just mash pedals in your drops and leave your faggoty ass aero equipment at the store where it belongs. We're 40+ and there are no pro contracts coming down the pipe, "sweartagod" on that one. I had no warmup because I drove to the loop and since I organized the event, I had to time everyone. Once they were done, I hopped on cold turkey with a borrowed helmet since I forgot that piece of the puzzle. 16 minutes and change later, I was gassed, but as usual, everything was right with the world and I was smilin' all the way home. Total endorphin high, and that right there is the cure for my illin' brain.

I went to court today. Not Casey Anthony style, as I was one of only three people in the room. I was just closing a door and opening new ones. Insert long breath here. I met C-Dub for a beer at 9:40am seven minutes after the court session started and ended with a loud gavel drop. I forgot that people really drank that early in the day. The Lauganitas tasted great. The conversation swelled as MG, KW2, and AM joined in. Soon we were on to rehashing Stage 6, BBQ plans, summer plans. The world definately didn't stop while we were there, but it felt like it did. Embrace your friends man, because without 'em you ain't got shit.

2011-07-01T16:57:00.001-07:00

Oh man oh man I can’t wait to wake up tomorrow and watch live coverage of the tour. After two weeks of superbowl-like hype from the eurotrash media, it’s time to get it started with a cool Stage 1 that is thankfully different from the 10K prologue that Fabian Cancellara would have probably walked away with followed by 4 days of flat stages in which his team defends the jersey.

Nope.

It’s a tough lil’ uphill grind at the finish that could leave a team like Omega Pharma, BMC, Euskatel Euskadi, Lampre, Katusha, or Radio Shack with the yellow jersey going into a team time trial on Sunday. In short, it’s anybody’s jersey come Monday. I love it. The circus, the drama, the speed, the everything.

As for me, it’ll be a crazy Friday night at town square with an outdoor movie and at least 500 kids and parents…..I’ll be sipping adult beverages from a flask in the back. It’s not even controlled chaos down there, but it is still fun. Temps will get down to 48 tonight, so I know I’ll sleep like a log. Up early on Saturday to ride in the woods, and before I know it my family will be in town. Last year, about this time, we were sitting on the deck of our boat in MN watching fireworks anchored in the bay. This year, we have our annual ban on fireworks due to dry conditions. So, it’ll be a 4th of July parade, and no fireworks for us or any other city within 100 miles of here. It’s like silent fireworks and you just kinda’ make up the noise as you see them explode. Arizona’s weird that way…..it’s about as patriotic/traditional as any other day of the year – nothing like the Midwest and east coast. See, the fireworks we are all waiting for are the natural ones that bring rain and thunder – and they should start on Sunday. I sure hope they do.

Wausau on the horizon

2011-06-30T14:29:00.001-07:00

Don’t blink. It’s the title of some gay-ass country song that has me bleary eyed o’r my beer errytime I hear it. Eyes wide open lately. Lil’ Bean and I painted half of her room last night. One side neon lime, the other bright blue. Tonight, we’ll finish the other two walls. Holy crap you could get a tan by just standing in the middle of the room with the light coming in the window in the AM. I think it looks pretty cool. She’s also getting a loft bed which will give her a shit ton of room down below for a desk and whatever else she wants in her room.

Seeing as how that took up most of the evening and night yesterday (because we had to prime the walls first), I launched out of the garage this morning after a cup o’ joe and before Lil’ Bean woke up. 1 hour driveway to driveway, and it was a quick and dusty affair. The trails are coated in a half inch of dust, then hardpack. It makes tire selection obvious – a high volume/knobby tire on the front to “ski” through the corners and a low profile rear tire in the back to plow through the dust and grab only the hardpack. We need rain like the Vikings need a quarterback. Yeah, it’s that bad. Monsoons are supposed to start on 7/2 – so we’re close to a reprieve.

Well holy shit, I’ll be in Wausau Wisconsin in a month riding on a 4-person co-ed 24 hour team that I have not yet heard the name of. Big Steve is gonna’ set me up on his rigid Niner Sir9 with a 32x16, and that beauty will give me every opportunity to rock it on that course. I’m in that place where a 3 hour ride is great, but at the 4 hour mark I start slowing down noticeably on the climbs. So, if I do four laps at a bit over an hour each with 4 hours of rest in between, then I should be a’ight. Can’t wait to catch up with Big Steve, JB, and meet our co-ed teammate Rox.

July 4th weekend. Don’t blink baby, because the next time you do it’ll be the end of summer.

Where did the weekend go?

2011-06-27T08:56:00.001-07:00

It was at a swim meet Saturday in Sedona. I rolled down to support a few kids and their parents – take photos while the controlled chaos was taking place. It was my first time at a meet like this and I was amazed at how quickly the events started/ended/re-started. They held something like 55 races in 3 hours. 18.3 races every 60 minutes – so a new field on the blocks every 3:15 seconds. Crazy, but it’s the way they do it. I took some good shots which I’ll post tomorrow. The parents? I thought soccer parents were crazy. All I heard was cheering for lil’ Timmy in the pool, and backstabbing about coaching/lack of coaching/ripping the meet organizers. The cool thing is that the kids were having a great time, and the pressure is pretty chill since nobody knows times/placing until the end of the meet. At least, not at the U-10 level anyway.

It was probably 101 in Sedona, and I was cooked by 1:00pm. Total slug the rest of the afternoon, but Sunday I was back in Flag and it was magnificent. 88 degrees at the house, but by the time I got up to 9,000 feet on my bike, it was around 75. I felt strong physically, but a bit weak cardio-wise because I couldn’t get my heart rate to settle in until about hour #2 of the ride. After that, I felt great, and then my legs began to tire after the Sunset climb. 1 mile, 8,000 feet to 9,000 feet. I was probably pushing a cadence of 30 for half of the climb, pulling hard on the upstroke so I could keep my heart rate down….no wonder my hams were tired after that beast. I zoomed home after about 3 hours and that was the capper on a productive day sorting/cleaning the house and avoiding the mid-day heat. Quick dinner, predictable movie in Street Kings 2, and asleep on the couch drooling.

Lil’ Lyza Bee is on my agenda for the next week. I miss that lil’ hellcat when she is with her Momma. The crazy thing is that her summer break is winding down for me already. 2 more weeks of her summer schedule to balance with my work sked – then we are off to MN in late July and she’s back in school on 8/15. 5th grade, here we come.

Crit practice tonight with our team only. I assigned myself the “B” group – and will be working with ‘em on positioning, conserving energy, following wheels and the right times to jump vs letting others do the work. It’s not like I have pro level knowledge, but it’s not like any of these peeps will ever get past Cat IV anyway. So, I have something to offer – and that’s cool because I enjoy it.

2011-06-23T23:01:00.000-07:00

Spartan workout yesterday and I walked out feeling like it was the easiest of the four sessions I have done. It was strength, not circuit so I wasn't winded at all. I had aspirations of riding for miles and miles after work today. Lynn asked me to show her a one legged squat last night, and I couldn't even get half way down - I just figured I was tired.....she laughed because she's been doing this for a year but she didn't give me any indication of what I was in for this morning.

5am and I'm psyched to ride, but wait..there are two vises on my thighs. 5:30am and I'm psyched to ride, but wait...not only do I still have the vises, but I also have c-clamps on my lats. 6:00am and I'm thinking there's no fucking way I can ride because there are lil' Africans slamming spears in my abdominal wall. Holy broken Batman. I'm going to work instead. I had a great day and figured I'd ride after shining a seat all day, but the pain just got worse.

Fuck it, I rallied, and C Dub came over to meet me for a spin. It was apparent that after about 20 minutes that I had plenty of fuel, but my engine was worn the hell out. Thankfully I've been living right because two intermediate riders showed up for our team ride, so I sat on the back getting covered in dust - offering some tips on technical shit so I could mask the fact that I resembled a Ford Festiva with about 245,948 miles on her lil 4 cylinder engine. Time for the junkyard.

Dude, is Eddy Vedder really that good? Yeah - he can sing, but I just can't get into that lil' yukelale (sp) thing and those short lil' songs. Guess I'm just not enlightened enough to get it.

Tour 2011 Forecast

2011-06-23T10:30:00.000-07:00

Carlos Sastre went out on a limb and named Alberto Contador as the ‘favorite’ for the Tour. In other news, Sastre also said the when it rains, the sky is usually gray and that Toyotas have a reputation for reliability. Master of the obvious. Really, Carlos?

You’ve got one of the greatest riders in the history of the sport in Contador - with a strong supporting team - going against completely overrated cherub faced Andy Schleck who knows race tactics like a 6mo old knows how to walk, a way past his prime Ivan Basso, perpetually unlucky Cadel Evans, and a slew of fun to watch, young, unproven talent that can climb but can’t time trial – or the opposite. Then you have Radio Shack’s four headed monster….Leipheimer, Horner, Kloden, Brajkovic….combine the four and you have a tactically smart, elite climber who can time trial (read: Alberto Contador), but on their own – those four dudes will be beating the shit out of each other for 5th place. Congratulations Radio Shack, you finished 5,6,7, and 8th. Actually, I would love to see Horner win the Tour, but I’m not willing to bet more than a used sprinkler head on that. The Tour of California is a fraction of the speed/competition/pressure that this race is.

I’ll be watching for three reasons. One – to watch Contador pull a Giro/Tour double with drama only exceeded by Floyd Landis’ 2006 short term victory. Two – to watch Andy Schleck actually win the Tour 60 days after it’s completion because Contador is retroactively suspended for the lamest doping excuse since Barry Bonds said he thought he was rubbing Jergens lotion on his knees – and not topical steroids. Andy ought to smile real big on the podium in Paris because he can photo shop his face on to the top step. Andy is the Jan Ullrich of this generation – a few fries short of a happy meal in everything but talent. I take that back…Andy couldn’t hold Ullrich’s jock. Three – to watch the sprints with Cav/Petacchi/Farrar/Boonen/Hushovd/Greipel and Gilbert ramping it up on the uphill finishes. I hope Cav drops F-bombs like a drunken sailor in his interviews.

Don’t even give me the doping argument with regards to AC’s pending verdict and cycling in general. Most doped, most still dope, and most will all continue to dope. I don’t even care, and I haven’t cared since I stopped drinking the Lance Armstrong kool-aid in 2004. It’s no different than any other sport. Aren’t you entertained? I am, and I can’t wait for July 2nd.

Outside chances that....

2011-06-22T11:52:00.000-07:00

Driving along this week I stopped behind a car with a 13.1 sticker in the window. My friend said ‘What’s 13.1?’. I said that’s the symbol of a person who probably just completed their first half marathon and wants everyone to know it in a “That's code for I’m an athlete” sort of way. Ok, there's an outside chance that this person is disabled and completing a 13.1 was a huge accomplishment, but just for fun I'm going to assume that the only way this person is disabled is in the sense that she is out of touch with reality. 13.1 sticker = BFD.

Pulling into the lot today at work. On the back window of a Honda Pilot there are two fist size Apple Computer symbols. Then two a bit smaller, then two a bit smaller all in a neat little row. Dad/Mom, two kids, a cat and a dog. How cute, right? Not really. Ok, there's an outside chance that this family owns an apple orchard and these little stickers symbolize their family business, but just for fun I'm going to assume that these are upper middle class, white people, and they recently bought an Apple so the whole family can be more enlightened than the rest of us. Apple stickers = Douche. BTW that Honda Pilot had dual chrome tipped exhaust pipes. A Pilot?

Great ride yesterday. I left my house around 5:30p, and rode uphill until I ran out of trail and hit the Wilderness boundary. It was 107 in Phoenix, 85 in Flagstaff, and 70 at 9,000 feet. A sip of Tres Generacions at the Tequila Tree – and it was all downhill to the garage. I got cold, yup, cold on the way back. Cold enough to overcook a banked turn and I ended up doing a pirouette off the bike and landed it. I took a bow, and smiled the whole way home. So I texted my buddy Jack in Phoenix just to let him know what 70 degrees feels like since he won’t feel that temp until November. Crickets. No response.

hurtin'

2011-06-21T13:32:00.000-07:00

The rowing machine. By far the easiest part of the session. 1 minute of work, and I’ll end up fictitiously pulling myself 240-260 meters down some serene body of water even though all I’m looking at is a digital screen.....knowing I’m about to get knocked out of the land-scull by a massive powerboat wake called reality…..30 seconds CB, get your ass over to the Kettle bell…

“Go”, he yells. One arm down between my legs with my paw on the handle of a 35 pound kettle bell. Squat down and with the mo from my hips and arm, swing that iron ball straight out in front of me to my eye level. The momentum peaks, and then takes my arm and hips back down, and I stop the mo’ fo’ to bring it back up again. Smooth rhythm because this is not an exercise you want to get your heart rate too high on. 5 in the right hand, switch to the left hand mid-stroke. 1 minute…and done…..30 seconds CB, get your ass over to Jump Ups.

“Go”. 18 inch platform. Jump up with two feet, jump down. Rinse and repeat until I can’t do it anymore. Heart rate at a billion beats per second. 1 minute, done….30 seconds to ring pushups, bitch.

“Go”. He calls out “one”, rest, “two”, rest, “three”, rest, “four”, rest. Think of gymnast rings, suspended from the ceiling just off the floor, and ya’ get to do pushups on these. My arms are shaking like a wet, cold dog. 1 minute, done….30 seconds to the Sledgehammer outside……and move it.

“Go”. Up and down slamming the head of the hammer into the sidewall of a tractor tire. Smooth strokes, keep your heart rate down baby because you’re gonna’ need that muscle soon. 5 on the right, switch, 5 on the left, back and forth. 1 minute, done….30 seconds till I have to flip that bitch ass tractor tire over and over.

“Go”. Full squat, pick the fucker up, shove it down with Johnny Cougar Authority, full squat, pick that motherfucker up again, shove it down…again, again, again. Heart rate at googleplex. 1 minute, 14 times…..30 seconds to jump pull ups you wuss.

“Go”. He calls out “one”, you jump and then pull yourself up to your chest, then “two”, then “three”, then “four”, then back to “one” until the fatigue hits – hard. 1 minute, done…I’m swearing out loud…..30 seconds to bag toss and wall climb.

“Go”. Pick yourself up one o’ dem 50lb bags of sand, throw the lifeless bag over a 7 foot wall, then climb over that wall and go get that lifeless bag of sand…pick it up again and throw it back over, climb over again and get it again…..until a minute later when I am flat done, toasted, shot. A human heap of uselessness and a pocketful of nothing with a heart ready to explode under my ribcage. Recovery is fast though, and within a minute I can see straight again, and talk and laugh about how much that hurt. Hunter, the trainer, says “nice work”. I believe him. It could be a lie, but I think he’s straight with me on that one.

That’s a Spartan workout. $10 cash payment at the door. Next time it could be sprints, running with a weight sled, shield presses, or vaults. It’s different every time, and you don’t get to see your workout until you get there. 8 minutes on, 4 minutes of rest, and in 12 minutes it feels like I just raced in a crit while lifting weights at the same time.

Happy Fathers Day at Fossil Creek

2011-06-20T06:57:00.000-07:00

Race Across America

2011-06-17T16:45:00.000-07:00

The RAAM (Race Across America) riders have been coming through Flagstaff and Sedona this week. Some look incredibly fresh (Solo Men and top Solo Women), and some look like they are already suffering quite a bit (Solo 60+ men). I was thinking how much fun it would be to get a group of riders together, a dedicated support staff of two drivers/logistics, and knock that puppy out with a team of 4 riders. Errrrybody rides 800 miles over the course of a week and you're in New Jersey by the following Saturday. How cool is that? 18mph, 24 hour a day riding. So all you gotta do is ride a century at 18mph (easy), rest for 16.5 hours (I'm all about that!), and rinse and repeat that 7 more times (Wha???). That would fuckin' hurt. Makes you realize how awesome those elite solo riders are. Better yet, it makes you realize how you'd never want to ask one of them to help move your dresser or their single-sport trained ass would throw out a non-existent bicep.

Still though, if you dedicated yourself to it, I think it would be a great time and jumping in the Atlantic after a week on the road? How awesome would that be? Awesome if you didn't step on a hypodermic needle on the Jersey Shore.

Imma' look into this. I know three other guys crazy enough, and probably willing enough to give it a whirl. The hard part would be to find crew to drive and make people eat/sleep. Hmmmmm. The entry fee for a team of 4 is a bit over $8,000. Then the car. Then the gear. Then the mandatory equipment. Sounds like a cheap skate shot at it would cost around $5,000 per person once its all added up.

Hmmmm. I think I'll get that Carbon singlespeed for 3K and go to Hawaii on the other 2K.

cake report

2011-06-14T07:50:00.001-07:00

Parked the Speed 3 in a little lot round the corner from the concert. Illegal? Maybe. Would I get caught, no way. We rolled in to Calexico just crushin’ the percussion. Fun band if you dig that kind of music – which I really don’t, so me n’ LC settled in with $8 draft beers, and a fading sun. The place was pretty packed and it’s general admission, so we found ourselves center stage, back half way, up next to a wheelchair viewpoint sqeezing our lil’ asses into a place much to the chagrined stink eye of a couple of local hipster bitches. A smallish woman was there in her wheelchair and in 30 seconds we were all friends. Lupus and Rheumatoid arthritis has a hold on her. She’s 46. F’n A. I didn’t even think of her as different because she was so alive, so happy, and so engaged. She could stand for maybe a few minutes at a time, but it zapped her energy. She has a 22 year old son, and I looked at her and saw myself in a lot of ways. It was hours later that I thought about how fortunate I am to have my health, and a healthy baby girl. The rest of it…the job, the car, the house, the bikes – yeah that is nice too, but health baby. That’s where it’s at. Mental and physical. Fingers crossed I’ll get to keep it for a long while ‘cause only part of it is in my hands.

The show was stellar. Cake are/is one of those bands that are better live than recorded. Dudes can play, and they did an awesome job of engaging the audience – me – while mocking us – me - too. Great fun, and they played a 3 song encore which was superb with Short Skirt-Long Jacket/Mexico/The Distance wrapping up a great show.

Saturday, trolling around the streets of downtown Phoenix avoiding the sun and heat, we stumbled on the Film Bar. All indie films and a full bar + you can bring in your own food. 70 seats, and a great sound system. We saw 13 Assassins and it was intense. We were laughing on the way out thinking that if Americans had the same pride that Japanese Samurai’s had, then our population would be cut by 2/3. But, LC pointed out that the good people would be dead and the douchebags would be livin’ strong since they apparently have no conscience.

Sunday was a hard-ass sweaty hike up Camelback Mountain in 101 degrees. Jezus focker, it’s short, steep, no shade, and the angriest rocks I have ever met. Hot and sharp. One woman stacked it on the descent – which is basically stepping down uneven boulder stairs with no real trail. She broke her ankle and a crew of firemen were on their way up to get her. Full gear, helmets….shit, I thought I was sweating in my pretty little matchy matchy Banana Republic cotton shirt/shorts combo that I got at, like, the outlets. These dudes were gushing sweat. So we get to the bottom and there are 5 fire trucks, and a news reporter. You’re kidding, right? This mountain is in the middle of a city of 3 million suckas, she’s maybe a mile in, and there’s a f*ckin’ news crew? Reality shows must be on re-runs.

Back to work Sunday afternoon and I plowed through two hours of stuff in what would have taken me 8 on Monday. Nice start to the week.

It's Cake

2011-06-09T15:24:00.001-07:00

Going to a Cake show tomorrow night. Outdoors, small venue, hotter' n hell Phoenix as the sun goes down. Should be a friggin' blast. Stayin' at the Valley Ho. The only thing I need are several tattoos, an Affliction shirt, wrap around shades, about 30 pounds of muscle on my chest and shoulders - lose 15 pounds of muscle in my legs, and a leased Bimmer and I'll fit right in.

Oh man am I in ruins after yesterday's change of pace. I'm going back next week, twice. I'll need the weekend to heal my hamstrings just so I can even go back. Easy peasy spin on marshmallow cream pie looking road bike tonight just to stretch out those guitar strings on the back of my legs. Owwwww.

Tear it down

2011-06-08T12:21:00.000-07:00

I hit the wall. After lotsa’ years of riding and racing, I hit a glass ceiling. I’m not going to get any faster unless I switch it up. What brought this sudden realization on is the fact that my hamstrings hate when I pull weeds. Basketball is the arch nemesis of my calves. Oh and don’t even ask me to move anything because unless I can ride it over to your new house, it’s not gonna’ get lifted with my weak arms.

Enough. At 43, I want to keep pedaling hard, but I also want to keep wrestling with my nephew and being able to run, paddle, swim, lift, and just play….it’s a big part of what life is about to me. The last thing I want is to be a self-centered amateur d-bag cyclist who lives and dies for the next group ride. I know those guys, and they are really boring because as time goes on, the greater they were. Waste….of….time.

Enter - Spartan Training Center. 5 exercises and I was reduced to a gasping, Elvis-leg shaking mess of a cyclist surrounded by combat gear, swords, and two instructors who walk their talk. 18 minutes of exercise was it? Yup. I lifted kettle bells, flipped a big tractor tire over and over, and put a sledgehammer into it too. 1 minute on full effort, and 30 seconds to get to the next station and GO again. I would equate the feeling I have right now with the effort it takes me to finish an entire bike race. Fuckin-a. I was blown away.

I'm not ready to sit around the coffee shop on Saturday morning before the group ride and talk about how fast I used to be. Instead Imma' downshift for a bit, and if all goes like I feel it will, I may pass ya on that next climb.

Fat Chick

2011-06-05T11:17:00.000-07:00

I love my heavy ass fat chick single speed. Steel frame, heavy wheels, big fork, and Hugh Jass tires. She's fat, and heavy and I love ridin' her hard. When I'm hammering her, I think about nothing other than the ride. My skinny lil' model girlfriend roadbike is gonna have to sit this summer out - sometimes I think she's too skinny and light.
Saturday morning was bright, sunny, and cool. Out the door early and off on a 20 mile loop around Mt. Elden. The north side was recently re-opened after last summer's wildfire, and it was so cool to be able to ride thorough the beautiful disaster. Bulldozer tracks still left from fire crews. Charred groves of pines, with lush green undergrowth prospering. 4 foot deep cuts in the mountain side where summer rains carved drainage through the now torched and empty steeps - flooding the housing communities on the north side in Biblical proportions last August. It was tough riding through the scree, gravel, and generally gnarled up forest floor. On the other hand, it was beautiful. The peaks in the backdrop with snow on them, and scarred and charred earth right in front of me. Beautiful disaster indeed.

Wrapping to the west side, I run into National Trail Day where a huge crew of volunteers are working on connecting an unfinished section of the Arizona Trail. Thanks for volunteering, but these are mostly older a-holes who practically make the trails ADA accessible. I pull up on this dude and he's just sledgehammering a beautiful rock drop off. F'n jag off. Meanwhile they are looking at my spandex covered body wondering why I'm not donating my time. I hightailed it outta there....And rode home via Little Gnarly. A little gnarly climb and then a skidding descent to the point where your hands are toast after about five minutes of constant braking. Love it. G R E A T time. So, I went for the double.....

This morning I busted out of bed at 5 and rode Sedona Singletrack. It was already 70 by 6:30a and I was game for some hard riding because my legs, for once, were warrrmm. Me and my big fat betty bike were in sync - crushin' the ups and carving the downs. Probably the best I've felt on her in two weeks. Coming back into Sedona and hauling ass around the blind corners of Shady, I had a sense I was going to plow a tourist - even at that early hour. I backed off just a bit, came around a bend and full lockdown brakes with my ass over the back to save an endo. Dust flying. I hopped to the side, and said "Come on through"....The hikers were cool after about a silent five seconds. I think the sound got them more than anything. Well, the dust cloud didn't help either. Onward, and it was like slalom skiing back to the car. Now, to work. I have no problem throwing down 4-6 hours today after that back to back session.

I wanna get back on that fat bitch.

crash and burn

2011-06-03T12:07:00.000-07:00

Walked out the door around 5:15p to go find Lyza and meet a chum and his kids downtown for a brew – then we were all going to walk over to the club soccer awards presentation. Got into my car, and was just about to turn the key when Lyza goes running past me and into the house. What the…

A neighbor kid has a sweet new Sector 9 longboard. Lyza took it for a spin, downhill, too fast….she bailed and did a tuck and roll on the pave’.

We went road rash by road rash and fixed up three nice gravel shredding patches. Shoulder, knee, left hand. She was a sight for sore eyes sitting on the couch with swollen eyes from crying. Left hand in a mixing bowl of oatmeal water, knee with an ice pack, and shoulder gauzed/taped. I would have laughed, but I’d have lost her at that moment. An hour later we were manging on chicken enchiladas and watching James Bond on DVD. I swear I could see her skin healing while we sat there. Youth is king.

By the time it was bedtime, she was back to her normal self, albeit we had a lengthy conversation about “what if you weren’t home, Dad?”. 11-teen what-if scenarios later, she was satisfied with always making sure to leave a cell phone on the kitchen counter so she could call her Mom if the neighbors weren’t home. She fell asleep with a magazine draped over her lap, in my bed. Lil’ sweetie.

She asked about the scars on my legs, mostly from mountain biking crashes, and I think she felt better about her wipeout. She was so upset with herself for getting on that board. I just said “Wear your helmet and your pads, and you’d have walked with just the scuff on your shoulder”. She gets it.

Off to school this morning with a bandaged hand and shoulder. Come to find out it’s a “Field Day”. Capture the Flag, Red Rover – lots o’ running. I bet she rallies and kicks some ass out there.

I’m skipping the 104 this weekend. Instead, ride at 5am in the cold - solo, and work on the yard the rest of the day. It needs to be done, and I need to do it.

Light of the Morning

2011-06-02T13:20:00.000-07:00

Lying awake at 4:50am, for what I can’t remember. I do remember realizing that there was plenty of light to ride. My lil’ Bee was sound asleep so I left a phone on the counter, and I was outta there by 5:15. Home at 6:30. Lil’ Bee was still sound asleep, like she usually is.
The difference between riding at 5am and riding at 7am is about 20 degrees, and the additional warmth of the southern sun on your skin. I was ass-pucker cold in shorts and a long sleeve jersey with gore tex gloves on the gentle ascent to Schultz Creek. Once the real climbing started, I was fine, but my legs felt like balsa wood and it took a while to get any power from them. The morning light is worth it though. Friggin’ A beautiful, not a soul out there, and the stillness…..it’s been windy for two months, but at 5:30am it’s as still as a hot August night.
I squeaked out last night after work as well, so this lil’ double dipper riding within 10 hours felt awesome. Seize. Don’t blink, ‘cause ya wake up one day and it’s been 20 years since you were in college. Go ride and get yourself some.

104

2011-06-01T10:48:00.000-07:00

That's the distance we'll be riding on Saturday. The route is relatively flat considering we're in the mountains - maybe 7,000 feet of climbing tops. I hope we have six or so teammates, so we can share the load. I'm not up for pushing wind for 104 miles, in a party of two because I'm always the biggest rider which equates to a lame draft. That statement is pretty funny in itself because 6'3" 190 ain't exactly "big" in any sense of the word.

My Lil' Bee is still recovering after her soccer tournament. Last night was the first time I have seen her content to let me take a nap after work, and her join me. We woke up feeling great, and there is something incredibly satisfying about napping with your own pack. Curled up, warm, and hanging out together.

My buddy is having his second kid soon. I don't think it's been officially released, so I'll keep it anonomyous. Congrats to him....baby girl gonna steal his heart 'cause they always do. Love me my baby girl fo sho.

End of the line

2011-05-30T20:48:00.000-07:00

After 9 months of club soccer, it all came down to penalty kicks. All the practices, the traveling to Tucson, Vegas, Phoenix, Prescott....it all came down to PK's.

The first three games? Easy peasy fo sheezy. 4-2, 8-0, and 6-0. Lyza ripped off four goals in those games. The finals were against a U-11 team of girls from Vegas. Lyza is on a U-10 team, and you could see the difference in maturity right away. The Vegas girls had lil' baby racks. Our girls...not even a mosquito bite to be found.

The game was rough. No yellows, but plenty of free kicks. 4-4 at the end of regulation, and Vegas won on PK's. It was pretty heartbreaking for a few of the girls. Tears. Oh the drama. Lyza was crying for ice cream though, so she managed to sqeak into a soccer mom car that was going there while I tore down nets and goals.

After 2 days in the sun and heavy winds, I was cooked. My girl? Nope. Home on Sunday after the finals, and out into the street for some hockey. Awesome, as I sat in a leather recliner with a Tecate Tallboy.

And the fucking end of the line for me too. I had the single worst ride I have had in a long time this afternoon apres work. Legs? Sucked. Lungs, fine, but no legs to do the dirty work. I had to rally because the trail goes up and I'm not walking, but it hurt bad and I looked like a total douche hanging over the front end trying to get the bike up the gradient. It got better, but not much. Howev-a, I feel great tonight. Musta' been a carb cleaner kinda ride. It's been so windy for a month that my road bike is practically shelved until mid-June.

Josh/Big Steve.....we'll be racing in 60 days. You boys ready to rip?

Alice without gloves

2011-05-27T15:33:00.001-07:00

5:50am and out the door into red rock country. Yeah, I know I’m spoiled being able to roll out the door and onto either red singletrack or brown singletrack. It’s good. For 20 minutes I was choppy. Choppy climbing, hitting rocks with pedals, and dragging my cranks over drops that I was missing the better line on. No gloves. That was it. I was riding like Alice not wanting to get all cut up from Manzanita/prickly pear/and the freakin’ cat claw branches. Harden up, douchie. I did, forgot about bloody knuckles and forged on. Ahhhh. The lines were clear, the bike was flowin’ and I got to a good place.

Only an hour + 20 mins and it was over. What the? Yeah, the man was callin’ and I had to be in by 8:20. Ahh well, since I’ll never get paid to ride, I had to make the prudent move even though the Highline trail was calling me for some ‘pucker your brown star’ riding. Ohhhhhh, I love that technical stuff. Next time….it’ll still be there for me.

Huge weekend in store, though not for me. Lyza Bee has her final soccer tournament of the 9 month season, and her team is favored on the home fields. Elevation advantage? Check. Shitty grass her team is used to? Check. Windy practice-like conditions? Check. The girls are putting the pressure on themselves – I don’t have to do squat in that department. Fortunately Lyza is a lot more relaxed than I am about sports and she will just go out there and play and have fun – but go down swinging. I love my sweetie.

Got a friend JB moving in for two months starting on 6/3. Dude renovated his place, posted it as a vacation rental just to see if he could get x amount and he fuckin’ got x amount. 4 month rental. Imma help him out for half the time. Cool dude, rides hard, and has a dachshund for Lyza Bee to take care of. Lookin’ forward to it and I’m going to Hawaii with the rent I charge him. Well, that’s my plan anyway. I’m pretty good about making trips to Hawaii happen. Have back pack, will hostel. Surfboard, Kona Coffee and a French press, sunscreen, and a tarp for rainy nights. S’all you need, baby.

Detour

2011-05-25T08:19:00.000-07:00

Instead of going all racer-boy last night, I bagged the crit, worked a little longer, and made it home in time for my own private ride in the forest. My legs were a bit stoved up after that hike in Phoenix on Sunday, so it was a good call. After 10 years of singlespeeding, I must be getting used to it by now. Last night = flow. I went after some fresh cut trail that traverses the lower slopes of the mountains behind my house. Capital F Capital U Capital N. My bike, still caked in mud from last week, was noticeably quiet and it wanted to run. I did not have a problem with that.

I know I mentioned last week that riding periodically at a slower pace has allowed me to have stronger 'on' days when I've needed them. What I've also noticed is that riding solo has done more for my mind than 1000 group rides. My schedule, my pace, and I'll be damned if I run across more than one or two other trail users over the course of an hour and a half. I've needed the mental space.

Back home I have a garden sprouting, and about another 8 hours of yardwork before I can put a bow on the grounds and start restaining and rebuilding some sections of fencing. Fortunately, Lyza Bee has a soccer tournament this weekend - in Flagstaff for once - so I'll get plenty of breaks from this most heinous of jobs...meaning I'll have to interject with a ride or three while she rests up on the couch in between games. 70 and sunny all weekend. Mmmm, yeah, I can dig it.

Thinkin' about my summer trip in July to Wausau for the 24 hour race with Big Steve, Josh B and a woman I have never met named Racin' Rox. I should mentally be ready to race bikes again by then. I know I'll be ready because riding in 9 Mile Forest is ridiculously fun. It'll be a good group and I'm looking forward to it already. Got my cheap ass Chevy Aveo reserved and everything :)

2011-05-23T08:25:00.000-07:00

No riding for me this past weekend, but I did manage to hike a superhighway called Squaw Peak in Phoenix. I don't think the trail is even two miles one way, but the f*cker is like a stairmaster on setting 11. Throw in 92 degrees at start time, and at least a few hundred people on the trail and there you have it....the metropolitan workout that some peeps were really really into. 90% had IPOD's on, and at least half of 'em were timing themselves. It took me about 20 minutes to get the elitist attitude out of my head about being on such a crowded trail when out my front door in Flagstaff are f*cking miles and miles of trails with nobody on them in pine/aspen forest. I did snap out of it though and just enjoyed the views of the big city, and the tan people in the latest and greatest gear. I definately saw some shoes and hiking gear I would love to scrape up - on Ebay, because I can't afford that bling.

96 degrees when we left the valley, and 59 when I got back home. Mind, body, and soul revived. Ride tonight with C-Dub if I can get outta here in a good time. The local crit series starts tomorrow night. It's the most wonderful time of the year.

lights out climbing

2011-05-19T09:51:00.000-07:00

Fresh off the Amrbosia concert and great sushi, I headed over to Monday night's group MTB ride with a big ass smile and a cheery thought that it would be a modest ride since a few sport-class dudes were joining up and we would all stay together. Wipe the cheery thought....because the newbies didn't show and it was on from pedal stroke 1. AA has been on a training mission and it showed. He led us up Schultzie at a nice clip until he stacked a creek crossing. BYE! We made him pay by upping the pace just a scoche so he had to crush himself to get back on. No rest for the wicked though, as he did catch on and led us up Sunset from the West Side. 1,000 feet of gain in under a mile. 3x Ouch on a 32x19.

Bent over the bars with extreme tunnel vision looking for the trail to flatten out even a % or two, I would not have noticed an open bag of unmarked hundies with no dye pack. I would not have seen Gisele Bundschen if she were naked trailside. No dabs for this mo fo, and me and CW pretty much encouraged each other to the top with me being afraid of him passing me, and him sticking to my back wheel like glue. Fucker and his little 26" circus wheels are great for climbing. JK rolled up about a couple minutes back, and AA ended up walking the top part because his pedal sheared off at the shaft. Nice! Great way to ride home - down 1,500 feet over five miles clipped in on the left and bouncing on a 1/2 spindle on the right side.

We shepherded AA's ass home, and I took a while to warm up. Since Monday night, we've had snow and cold...so back out tonight for some more singletrack. Love me some Flagstaff right now!

Ambrosia Concert

2011-05-14T06:38:00.000-07:00

So there I am Friday night in Phoenix. Pink wristband on. Free pair of Absolut Vodka sunglasses, and the 70's band Ambrosia is about to take the stage. How did I get here? There were maybe 100 people in the bar. Me, Marko, and A-Man had been sitting out back while all of this was being set up. Unintentional comedy aside, I would have loved to have seen them play one of their hits from the 70's because we were in an unintentional comedy mood.

Blow that joint and off to Sapporo in Scottsdale. High. End. Sushi. I fit in Flagstaff, but my simple Tee, rag tag shorts and Chacos contrasted a bit to the Affliction, Tommy Bahama shirts not to mention the heavily muscled dudes with fauxhawks and other plastered short hairstyles. Since I'm 43, I didn't give a shit. We crushed roll after roll and laughed our assess off. Good times.

Work meeting this AM. 9:00am to be exact. It's 6:34 and I'm looking out at a highway with no interest in getting on my bike for a quick ride. Giro live coverage, a cup o' coffee and a slow morning is just the ticket today. It'll be 95 in this cooker city, and I can't wait to get back to the mountains on Sunday for my nephew's wedding. At Jpine. Meaning I have to work it. My ex-in laws will all be there. Breathe deeply CB.

Pedals down hard

2011-05-13T10:01:00.000-07:00

After Foghat Tuesday, it was pedal to the metal Thursday. 5 peeps showed up at 5:30 and we drilled it from the opening pedal stroke. After the 1.25 hour session CW said "that was like a brutal trainer session with a happy ending. 30 second bursts, 5 second recovery, a f'n long ass climb, and all downhill home". My kinda ride.

We rode with a dude who was on a $5,000+ carbon Specialized Epic full susp 29'er. Sweet ride with only a few scratches on it. Dude even put clear dots on the frame where cables might rub. Outta control. He's selling it for 4K because he can't customize it since it has so much proprietary shit on it. Talk about white guy problems. Seriously, 4K for a used bike?

Foghat

2011-05-10T19:00:00.000-07:00

Slow ride. Take it easy. I rolled outta the garage this morning and pushed my pedals...smooth, deliberate, and slow. A 50 minute ride turned into an hour + 10. Heart rate not pegged - more like an easy peasy 130. Vision not telescopic, rather, wide and clear. Huh?? I've been riding this pace every third ride, and I've noticed that my 'bad days' are nonexistent. The ride after a 'Foghat ride', is usually an exceptional one. I've got power, endurance, and it's as fun as it gets. Now I'm sure I could have paid a coach/trainer a couple hundie and I would have known about this a looooong time ago versus taking 15 years of my own ignorance/trial and error to experience this. Whatever. I'm there today, and it feels great.

Slow ride. Take it easy.

A month went by?

2011-05-09T17:43:00.000-07:00

Riding. That's what's been happening. My blingy new road bike was shelved about three weeks ago in favor of my heavy steel single speed because trails rule.

Road riding sucks. If it weren't aggro competitive, I wouldn't even ride. If it weren't all about whomever can fuck over the rest the best wins, I wouldn't even go out. That shit is fun. The only thing that really brings me back to group rides and races is wanting to punish other people, and of course, getting punished and having to ride home thinking about why I got smoked on a sprint or a climb. Our little local racing team had a spring BBQ ride on Saturday and a 'no drop' 50 miler. 'No drop'. Yah-huh. We were all good little angels for the first 20 miles and then somebody has to up the pace a notch. Then another notch. Then we're strung out, and it's on. Local boy bragging rights and a couple of free IPA's. I don't love IPA's and I don't love losing either. The back half of the ride was so strung out it was comical, especially with brutal cross winds. We tried to help people get into eschelons, but bikes were getting into car lanes and it was the opposite of the word 'safe'. We reconvened with 20 to go, and rode in mostly together. Fortunately most everybody took it with a grain of salt and chummed back up at the BBQ, but there's always that one asshole who has to express his 'disappointment' in the ride. Sorry it wasn't to your liking fuckface. Keep up, or ride alone and get faster. That's what I wanted to say, but I went all PC and just said 'well it was nice riding with you for the first 20 miles'. I thought it was pretty funny, but he didn't.

So back to mountain bikes. You know what's great about 'em to me? I can ride solo all day long and never ever ever wish I was in a group. Trails take the edge off, and even though I push myself, it's not even close to the focus needed to follow wheels and strategize how you are going to get away - and stay away - in a road ride. Trails bring out my calm centered self. I think about deep shit. Like Keanu-deep. Whoa. Kinda kidding there....it's more like a mind dump, and pedaling up or down it all flows.

Two bikes, one brand - Marin, and two personalities. I wonder what a CX bike would do to me. Maybe the best of both worlds? Probably not. I'm not into compromises when it comes to my time.

Spring Classics

2011-04-20T23:23:00.000-07:00

My friend JK can be a total douche. Set in his ways, full of excuses, ridiculously opinionated, yet I know he would have my back if I needed it. He said something the other day that reminded me to just simmer, and not boil. "As soon as I feel like I'm in a great place, something happens and it gets all fucked up". What he was referring to was his fitness. I've seen him twice now get to a high level, get a bit cocky, and WHAM - the hammer comes down. In this case, he dog cut in front of him as he was trying to outsprint the pooch on his roadbike. We all know better. He knows better.

So enough about him let's talk about me. I've had a good run lately. 12 hours in the saddle already this week. Feeling great on the singleschwizzle bike in the 32x19, and thinking "hey, I'm in a good place". Well, except for the fact that I'm working too much, my car is in the shop because I crashed it after falling asleep at the wheel, and a whole fuck ton of other things that remain to be sorted out. So I quickly quashed that false sense of greatness and just took it for what it was.....a few great days on the bike that help me reset my brain and body. Singletrack is tacky, trails are clear, and days are long all of a sudden. Love me some spring.

Gallup was a total washout in terms of racing, but I still had a really good time with Big Steve, douchebag JK, and C-Dub. We laughed, we ate, we drank, C-Dub puked, we rode in winds that I have never ridden in before, and when we got back to Flag there was a half a foot of snow on the ground, and 15 inches+ at Snowbowl. What to do? Go on up, dammit. Me and Big Steve hit it, and had a great time. I got to float on powder that gave me eye watering cramps and Big Steve got on skis for the first time since 'Nam.

The Whiskey 50 was looming on my calendar, and I was feeling really abject about it for many reasons - one being I have not trained enough to make it a less than painful experience. Two, the race has become a circus as the race promoter is going for the Leadville approach - Real pro category with 20K in prize money = 1,500 entrants. Fucking circus. Finally, have you ever paid $130 to race 50 miles? I never have and won't. Bye Whiskey...I'll remember kicking your ass last year and that's how I'm going out.

As tough as

2011-04-05T14:43:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure, but I'll find out Saturday. Ohh yeah. Temps look to be in the high 40's. Good chance of rain, and it'll be windy. It's the wind. If you can soldier on in the wind, then you beat half the field right there. When I get home tonight, my bag is going to be repacked. Layers, upon layers. Gore-tex outers. I'm showing up ready to roll even if my longest ride this spring has only been a bit over three hours.

Got the clearance to get the Mazda fixed next week. New quarter panel, and the rest is buff/paint all the way down the side. I get a new wheel too. Only 3K worth of damage - and in the body shop world that's a scratch/dent job. Which is what it is, thankfully.

MTB ride scheduled tonight while Lyza is at soccer practice. Yeah buddy, the days are getting longer and I can ride till 7p. What the hell? who flicked the switch on the sun? Sure as hell wasn't the clock change because ours don't move. It's too complicated for Arizona politicians to do that. Yet, the Navajo's get it. Makes me wish I lived on the Rez, for about 10 seconds. Maybe get a free education and a nice truck out of it.

I rode my rollers this morning, but I don't remember really being there. The sun wasn't up yet. If you ride your rollers, and nobody sees you and you don't remember, did you really ride? I musta' been dreaming, but Road House was on when I finished, so I musta'. Sure was a memorable session. I love those dudes who actually get into their trainer sessions with intervals and shit. Wish I had even a shred of their dedication to indoor training because for me, it's just pushing pedals with a distraction to survive so I don't get my ass kicked on any given Saturday event.

Pain don't hurt

2011-04-04T16:54:00.000-07:00

Once again, here I go burning the candle at both ends. The weekend was a blur capped by spending a few hours making a life size golden eagle out of recycled materials. Well, correct that, Lyza and I made the model. 6 foot wooden closet rod? Check. Spraypaint leftover from two years ago? Check. Cardboard feet and paper wings? Check. It’s actually pretty cool and Lyza was really excited to bring it into class this morning.

After she was done watching Gaga, Ke$ha, and The Black Eyed Peas vids, she crashed hard last night. I was feelin’ low, but I went for the remedy. Rollers, bike, and a copy of Road House in the DVD player. Everytime Swayze says “Pain don’t hurt” - kills me. Then he's charged with (paid to) pull off a character that is an NYU Philosophy grad turned bouncer/cooler who’s asked about what he’s searching for and he says “I dunno’, I guess the meaning of life and shit”. Awesome – better than 11 cappuccino’s and a case of Red Bull. Wakes me up and an hour later I’m done.
Big Steve will be in the hood starting Thursday night through the middle of next week. We are leaving for Gallup singletrack racing on Friday morning and it oughta’ be a cool and blustery day out there. Temps in the low 60’s, good chance of some rain, and no sun until we get back to AZ. My kind of endurance riding weather unless it becomes a mud fest in which case we won't be home for a week because the parking area is that thick-ass Satanic mud that will not release anything until its dry.

Car goes in the shop next week to take the self-made pinstriping off the right side. So proud of my work, but I better get it fixed.

Pain don’t hurt.

Not my next race

2011-04-01T08:39:00.001-07:00

VCA 2010 RACE RUN from changoman on Vimeo.

Donuts for Dad

2011-03-31T18:59:00.000-07:00

Donuts for Dads at school today. Show up at 8, throw down a few fresh donuts, wash 'em down with a little juice, have numerous laughs with Blondie and then the buzzer...she's off to class and I'm off to change into the costume, and pick up CDub at his chiro office. Snowbowl it is, dude.

I have only driven up recently to board, and man did it feel good to do the climb on a bike. I felt good man, even though it's never easy even when you are in shape because you just go faster. 50 degrees, the sun cutting a hole in my back - man it felt strong - and before I knew it we were up and lookin' forward to the drop back down. New bike = new brakes and new tires, so I railed the fucker. 40 up, and 10 minutes down. That's what I'm talkin' bout. Back to the house in under two hours and down to work before noon.

Dawn Til Dusk is 9 days from now and I feel pretty good. Pretty good as in I should have a good time if I don't get all competitive - and just ride my own pace like I did last year. I'm not going to get any fitter in a week, so it's better to just ride slowly, drink High Lifes moderately, and sleep excessively. I'm still a bit down in that sleep department, so g'night y'all. Oh shit, the Stars / Sharks game is on the computer - well I'll sleep after that.

Close call

2011-03-30T22:01:00.000-07:00

Driving home from Sedona yesterday, I lost it. Lost my shit. Fell asleep at the wheel, and brushed five panels of sheet metal, and a light on the right side of my car. It was guardrail pinstriping, two perfect lines along the whole side of the car. I woke up to the sound of metal on metal. It took about 5 seconds to say to myself "I just brushed a guardrail".

It's pretty easy to guess that if that rail had not been there I would have been off the road and into the woods at 40mph and who knows how that would have gone. $500 in parts, and $2,500 in labor - pretty minor in the scope of auto repair. Good thing my deductible is about 15% of that total.

I went on with life as normal yesterday, but as time has gone on, it's been an exercise in trying to figure out - beyond luck - why I hit a section of the road that has a guardrail. I guess it wasn't where I was supposed to die, so Imma' do some more thinking about all of this and get back to me on it. I do know that I gave my sweet blondie an extra hug last night. I got a lot of daddying, loving, and living in me still, and to think that the switch could have gone entirely off yesterday is....I don't know really. A chance. A sign? Maybe nothing more than the circumstance of my shortcoming behind the wheel. Anyway, I'm glad to be typing, and doing dishes, and listening to music, and hitting ping pong balls.

Mangina

2011-03-27T21:29:00.000-07:00

Admittedly, I'm a bit of an E-Bay whore. If I score a great deal, I high five myself. Last week I sold a set of Mavic wheels for $550, and bought a set of eggbeater pedals for $27. Even in Charlie Sheen's fucked up world, that's a win-win for CB. Then, later in the week I received a pair of Pearl Izumi bibs. I tried 'em on, rode 40 miles in 'em and they are nearly as comfortable as $220 Assos bibs - so I'm double high fiving myself for a total score. $45 including shipping for 'em. Then I saw my reflection in the glass by the front door.

Mangina.

Total mangina. The chamios folds in the front and it looks like I have a giant black vag. Nothing wrong with black vag. Look at Tupac, Denzel, Common, and Beyonce. They don't even need last names. The problem is these are now relegated to solo riding shorts because CW, AA, JK, and MG would never, ever, ever, ever let me live those bibs down. Big Steve and JB would probably go into shock and awe mode and never recover for their laps this summer at the Wausau 24.

E-Bay...not always the perfect score.

Piranha

2011-03-23T07:40:00.001-07:00

I’m pretty sure y’all probably missed the remake of Piranha. The most recent version was spectacular for several reasons:

a) Elizabeth Shue and Ving Rhames took parts in this movie? Didn’t Elizabeth Shue practically score an Oscar in Leaving Las Vegas? She must have thought that Piranha would do for her what Tremors did for Kevin Bacon. Times are tight, right? Shit, I would have taken the role too just for the fun factor.

b) The plot was predictably predictable – exactly what I wanted – so much so that I didn’t even have to turn the volume on so my daughter could sleep while I pounded the rollers for…..88 minutes. Any movie that is under 90 minutes is either of the horror, documentary, or of animated genre. This one certainly filled the gore/horror bill.

c) Gratuitous nudity. Since they filmed it at Lake Havasu – aka Spring Break Slutsville – the movie did not come up short here. Tits and ass, tits and ass, tits and ass. I first went there in 1987, and nothing has changed. The girls are all the same age as when I was there 
Best scenes:

a.) Ving Rhames grabs a 15 horsepower outboard motor off the back of a fishing boat, and get this - standing in knee deep water he singlehandedly chops up thousands of blood thirsty piranhas until the motor dies. Nevermind the fuel line wasn’t connected. It was a lesson in fish carnage, a display of blood and guts of the finest kind. Rent the movie just for this scene because you will be laughing your ass off for days.

b.) So this dude is a ‘girls gone wild’ director and he has a half naked slut parasailing that he’s filming. Well she drops halfway into the water when the boat slows, and piranhas eat the lower half of her body. The boat speeds up and, head slumped over, she’s parasailing with half a body. Stellar. I saw it coming, but I wanted to see how they would do it. Excellent.

c.) One dude freaks out as the Piranhas are attacking hundreds of people in front of a floating stage where they had been filming a wet t shirt contest. He jumps in a boat, floors it, and THUMPS his way through hundreds of floating/screaming people like he’s plowing through a filed of buoys. Bam, boom, pow, smash, deesh! The motor stops when a slut’s hair gets caught in the prop and he can’t get it restarted. I can’t even describe the comic carnage – they must have had so much fun making this scene. The water for 200 yards around the stage and the boat was Kool Aid Tropical Punch red. I had to get off the rollers and replay it, that’s how great it was.
So, if you need to do some indoor training this spring when the winds are howling and the snow keeps flying, rent Piranah. It’s the fastest 88 minute workout you can get, with huge laughs, and without even turning on the volume. I even found myself spinning a little harder just to stay in front of those flesh eating bastards.

Snowplows and San Remo

2011-03-21T18:41:00.001-07:00

It’s 5:15p on Monday and I should be pulling into the lot at another non-descript coffee/bike shop for our cycling team meeting. Howev-a, I’m at my desk because some tool who miraculously scored a license to drive a snowplow, flipped his rig about a mile south of us when we went way too fucking fast around a corner. Dude’s fine, so I can light him up like the 4th for filling our lobby with predominantly cheap ass people unwilling to pay for a room for the night. A few did, and they are having a good time. The lobby-folk are cool enough, but you can feel the tension in their backs every time we get a web update and the news is not so great. The road north and south has been shut down until at least 8pm and we ain’t goin’ nowhere. But, think of Japan people and shut your fookin’ pieholes.
Headline: “Middle class people stranded in one of the most scenic locations on earth with wi-fi access, hot coffee, and heat”. Sounds rough.
So I squeezed in a one cog ride yesterday in the woods on the sunny slopes of Mt. Elden. It sucked because I sucked. Was it the tires? Was it the super soft ground? Was it the millions of pine needles? Was it my total patheticness? Nice word I just tried to make up. I think it was all of that and several bags of chips. It was definitely the fact that I didn’t change out my rear cog and I was pushing a 32x18 when a 20 would have been even marginal. Whatever – better than a trainer. I don’t mind sucking, it’s just a smack in the face reminder that I have a bad day every now and then. I’ll kick the shit out of that ride next time – in a month – when today’s snowfall melts.
Did you see Milan San Remo on Saturday? Probably not, because who watches euro cycling races when you have to do a lot of work to find a free live feed? Actually you don’t (www.cyclingfans.com) but Murkans just don’t get road racing unless ‘drug free’ Lance is in the race. Now that he’s out of the game, the US fan base is gone. Digress. Great race. Phenomenal race, actually. Check it on Youtube. 2011 Milan San Remo and watch the Poggio video and the finish. Those dudes are hard core.

Hipster traps

2011-03-20T11:57:00.000-07:00

From drunkcyclist.com. Settin' these little things up all over town.

April is comin' fast

2011-03-17T19:42:00.000-07:00

Got some great news last night. This dirt bag is coming out for the Dawn Til Dusk race April 10th. Yup, all the way from Whiskyonsin USA.  Home of the always underachieving Brewers, great brew, and great food. Hell, there's this restaurant in downtown Milwaukee that puts bacon on everything. Everything. Big Steve - we should be in for a good time. New Mexico is largely a grade A dustbowl with freaks everywhere, but there are some pockets of awesomeness that you can't find anywhere else.

Whiskey is starting to appear on my radar after a wicked slow start to riding this year. I'm feeling better, and am starting to get excited about another beatdown. 4:48 is my best.  This year I'd be ecstatic with the same time. Hmmmmmm, gotta get on it, or 4:48 could turn into 5:30 really fast.

What a funky week for me here in Flagtown. It's peak spring break season at work, but things are dialed and on a bit of a cruise control right now so I've peeled out mornings and afternoons with rides. I'm still working 2-3 hours every night until about 11pm on top of my daytime hours, but it's OK because I've managed to get in nearly 10 hours on the road bike this week in 50+ degree temps. Tomorrow I'm taking Lyza to Phoenix to pick up my new/used ride. Found me that Mazdaspeed3 I've been looking for since they came out in 2007. Hatchback I can sleep in at races. Ridiculous 263 hp in a car that weighs nothing. Decent mileage. What more do I need? My housekeepers say I need a truck to haul all the shit I buy for work back and forth. My riding buddies say I need an SUV so I can haul more of 'em to races. My daughter says I need a Mustang Cobra convertible. Sorry y'all...I'm gettin' what I want.

Been on the mountain when I haven't been riding around it, and we...need....snow. One more dump will carry the hill into April. There's somethin' brewin for Monday. Almost as if the ski resort cashed in a karma chip to stay open another two weeks. Whatever. I'm all in. 8 full days and counting. 10 would be a great year for me.

Weekend in the back yard

2011-03-14T17:18:00.000-07:00

For three years running I have made my way down to Phoenix on or around the 2nd weekend of the month for a road ride that benefits the American Diabetes Association. Great cause, very very well run event with police at every intersection, and always a pretty fast lead group to ride with. You know, just so I can find out how little riding I have done all winter.

Once again, it delivered.

My new ride has a compact crankset, and I was anxious to test it out in a group setting. 32-33mph is my spin out point, and fortunately, when we were going that fast it was on a descent so all I had to do was chill in my drops and coast. Bigger rider like me = faster coasting so the compact turned out to be a non-factor. What is did do was enable me to spin a smaller gear more intuitively. Smaller gear = fresher legs at the end so long as you have the lungs. Fortunately, living at elevation helps in that department.

So I sat in with a teammate until mile 30, and then me and MG went to the front and rotated in and out with a party of ten or so dudes and pulled the 50 rider train back to the line. MG is 24, and lives to ride. I’m 43 and I love to ride. He surely recovered without issue. Me? I was pretty hyped at the finish to be doing my fair share of pulling and cranking out a solid pace, but I was full-on tired that night. Bone marrow deep tired. Turns out it was 60 miles in 2:40 at around 22-23mph. Race pace for me, and a solid training ride for MG.

I then met up with A-Man and we went on a 15 mile spinout just to catch up on life. Great hour spin, and it did feel good to get some of the crud out o’ the hamhocks.

Then I made my way over to this dude’s house to test drive his car – I want to buy it. There should be a filter on Autotrader.com that allows you to select a car owned by a gay guy. This car is pristine. His house – same way. His partner gave me stink eye but that’s because I was all post-ride sweaty with still embrocated legs and he was for sure diggin’ on my Miller High Life corduroy trucker hat but couldn't admit it. So, I should be soon drivin’ a new/used car. Meet the new car, same as the old car really….5 door hatchback, import, pretty good on gas, lower miles, this one is just blue instead of red. It’s a little faster too + a better stereo. Cars don’t really mean shit to me, just get me to point a and b and I hope you don’t mind if I leave a change of clothes, gum wrappers and red dirt everywhere.

Sunday me and LC went up the mountain to snowboard. Her fifth time, my 107th or something like that. Didn’t matter. We had a great time, and the snow held up despite 45 degree temps on the lower slopes. Friggin’ nobody was there and it was officially the first day of Spring Break.

When I don’t have Lyza with me, weekends don’t get much better than that.

2011-03-09T21:34:00.000-08:00

If you know my daughter, you would say 'no way' to these shots. Ke$ha Party, 2011. Starring Lyza and Delaney.

2011-03-09T21:32:00.000-08:00

For sale on e-bay. Sad to see her mint condition self go, but I got a new girl now.

Time may change me, but I can't...

2011-03-08T13:37:00.000-08:00

My friend LC tells me casually “Dude, everyone is on something…seriously, you don’t know that?” I didn’t know that until I was sitting in a plastic chair in a dermatology clinic asking this little man WTF was going on with the rash all over my body. Turns out I’m allergic to a certain antibiotic that I was on for….well that’s another story. So I’m askin’ this doc if stress and lack of sleep contributed to the rash. He says “no, but are you having trouble sleeping because I could put you on Ambien”. Ambien? A dermatologist pushin’ Ambien? I said no, I can sleep just fine bro – it’s just been long days and nights at work with exercise and kid squeezed in…sleep is a low priority.

By the time I left his office he had suggested a steroid shot for immediate relief, Zyrtac and Claritin for relief in 48 hours, Ambien to sleep, and if I didn’t want any of that, then everything should be healed up in 7 days. I’ll take the 7 days, thank you.

Askin’ around after this little visit left me realizing that LC is right. Anti-depressants, stimulants, anxiety meds, sleeping pills, recreational drugs, fuckin A everybody is doin’ it. Makes me realize how few people have felt the high from cracking through an anaerobic threshold, or from giving everything mentally/physically that they never thought they could just to finish an event. Ain’t no drug can duplicate those great feelings.
It’s been a memorable 21 days for me. Antibiotics, great rides, a connection with my little girl that just keeps growing, new friends, pain, re-doing my house, and opportunities at work that are making me better at my job. I’m ready for it to calm the fuck down, but I have another two weeks of this chaos before things will chill. I sometimes wonder though, if the word “chill” is in my personality. Seems like it is only when I’m on vacation.

Saturday I’ll be in Phoenix – it’ll be in the high 80’s – riding a metric century in a diabetes fundraiser. It’s become an annual event now three years running. Imma’ sit in the lead group and just spin easy for 3 hours. That’s what I need right now, a seat on a ride where I can just look at the scenery and put my brain in neutral. Plus, I wanna’ see how the new Hincapie kit (in black) sheds the heat. It’s the little things.

Frieday - time for some sleep

2011-03-04T11:18:00.000-08:00

Forrest Gump was right in that life is a box of chocolates. For the last week I've been working erratic hours balancing staff needs, and guest needs. Fortunately, I have a couple of guests from Calgary who needed to go riding, and wanted the 'insider' trails in Sedona. Who better than me to grant their request. For the last few days it's been 3 hour sessions in the red dirt/slickrock just killin' it. I've been pushing an 18 cog in the back just to get my early season legs built up proper. Slow pedal strokes, big gear, easy on the heart, hard on the legs. Yeah buddy. When April is here, I'll be ready.

This Canadian couple that has been with me are two of the best people I have ever met. Canadians in general - great peeps. Dennis is a 50+ 24 hour solo racer who has been to the last three World Championship events...last year was in Australia. Dude gets it. Diet, nutrition, training, all the while being a humble Canadian. It was great picking his brain because although I have no intention of riding 24 hour solo, I was able to sponge up some good endurance info from him. His girl, Heather - fastest downhiller I have ever seen male or female outside of a pro race. Just awesome to watch her scorch the earth while Dennis and I were a bit back just hanging on. True dat, she was riding with 6 inches of travel on both ends so the climbs were slow for her, but I'll be damned if I have ever seen that level of comfort bombing off 2 and 3 food drops, switchbacks, water covered slickrock, and crushing through piles of shale.

But all of that comes to an end when the sun goes down, and it's back at work until midnight. I can count the sleep I've had in hours on two hands in the last three days. Shit dude, it's been worth it.

Oh, and my new road bike came in. I pick it up tomorrow. Marin Stelvio + I threw on some Easton SLX's. As Lyza would say, 'tight'.

no 24 OP regrets

2011-02-21T09:10:00.000-08:00

President's Day Morning. The road I usually take to work is closed. Too much snow. The long way around is open, but I'm not too excited about taking that 1.5 hour detour. Got Jackyl on the player, and it's a pretty chill morning. Fish - that Jackyl chainsaw rock is for you, baby. Time to head in soon.

Nearly every year, I semi-regret not going to Tucson for 24 Hours in the Old P. I never fully regret it because it's early in the year, and it's guaranteed to be ass cold at some point. Sure enough, the 18 million racers or whatever it's up to now got rain, hail, cold, etc. Not me. I was jumping on trampolines on Saturday playing dodgeball, and Sunday was spent building a snow fort.

Dodgeball was great. There I was in a cage with a bunch of kids - the entire floor trampolines, and most of the dads standing watching behind plexiglass with their arms crossed. They wanted in, but their wives had their leashes on. Poor bastards. A few kids took shots at me, but retaliation was sweet. Some of the volleyball sized nerf balls were torn up and taped up - and those stung. One kid took a big jump off the trampoline and threw it at me. I caught it - you're out punk ass kid - and I threw a heater across the side of his buddy's head. You're out too, d-bag. None of those kids were sore on Sunday. I was. I could have iced my arm pitcher-style. The dads with the leashes were laughing, and one of 'em managed to break free and hop in on the action. Good, freakin', times.

Dodgeball and snow fort cross training, my style.

2011-02-17T12:00:00.000-08:00

In the car at 5:30am and down to the red rocks. A warm breeze was blowing and by ride time it was already 40+ out. Twist, shout, velcro soil, rip, shred, up, down, droppin down, and back up - great ride with a great friend. Shower and at work by 10:30am. 10-14 inches of snow coming in on Saturday, so it was imperative that I got out this morning. That warm breeze? By 10:00am it was about 10 degrees colder. Here it comes....time to shelve the bike for the weekend and reach again for the board/skis. Oh, and a freakin' shovel because I'll be staying down at the resort this weekend to make sure all of our lovely little guests avoid those nasty, expensive slip and falls. One of those can cost more than 1/4 of my yearly marketing budget.

A pause...

2011-02-16T16:53:00.000-08:00

...in this blog. It's been a crazy three weeks that I'll get into over the next three months. On Sunday, the boys picked me up at work 'round noon and we went in search of the newest singletrack in Sedona. Found it, and then some. 3 hours later we were chillin' in the lot talkin' 'bout what I would define as some of the greatest singletrack I have ever ridden. Whoever built this stuff is a singlespeeder. Challenging power climbs, tricky 'butt on your back wheel' drops, and a blend of slickrock, red dirt, sand, and water hazards that kept me on focus mode. I was tired, but euphoric to the point where I was ready to go back the next day.

The next day had a different plan for me. 1st crit night since last September. We had a small turnout, and as a result it wasn't a throwdown. We churned out a 45 minute race at what I would estimate was maybe 90% of what I had brought to the go-round. The obligatory shit-talk/congrats after and a promise to meet again next week was my favorite part.  I'll be back with a new weapon

What started as a smokin' pro deal on a new Easton wheelset turned into an overhaul from 9 speed to 10 speed. New shifters, chain, cranks, cassette, and wheelset. Love me my Klein because it fits better than an Isotoner Glove on Dan Marino's hand. It's also a work of welding and graphic art, and the fucker rails corners. So why not throw some money into it for another 5 years of love, right? Right.

The only downside to these last two rides is I went too deep on Sunday. Sore throat today, with a little phleghm - the kind of reminder from my immune system that says "you dumbass - you went into the red zone for too long". Yeah - I get it, but that singletrack.........fuckin' A if that is not on the top three list of reasons to live here.

Got in touch with an old friend over Christmas, and I'm glad to be back in he/his family's life. Have you ever let something slip away, knowing all the while you shouldn't be, but it just happens and then years later you say to yourself WTF?  Glad I woke up. Me and this guy....we got lost - flat out lost and walked home without our bikes guided only by moonlight - on an MTB epic back in 1999. We've lost enough money gambling in Laughlin and Vegas together to buy a floor at Mandalay, and we wore semi-matching t-shirts with dicks and F-bombs drawn all over them during hell week at NAU. How did I lose track of that friend? Selfish motherfucker me, that's how.

Overdressed

2011-02-04T05:28:00.000-08:00

If it weren't for the green grass in background, you'd probably think "looks pretty cold there". This is some desert rat lady in Phoenix bundled up Minnesota style (minus the snowpants), and she's miraculously able to carry what appears to be a 500 ounce coffee. I think Phoenix got down to 30.

Meanwhile, up here it's been -5, windier than an offshore regatta, and my fingers are all busted up from the 0 humidity. Scrape your hand on a sharp edge, and that cut ain't closing for about a week.

Go Pack. I hope Rogers throws 3 picks, but GB still wins 28-27

Hit it

2011-01-30T18:31:00.000-08:00

The fire inside is burning once again. All it took was a measly 45 minutes on my rollers looking at darkness and listening to some random songs at 11pm. Something clicked in my head. Competition. Fear of failure. Desire. Dedication. Fun. Yeah, fun, always. My legs picked up the pedal stroke I have worked on for years, and riding felt good again. Not like the first time, but like the last time.

A week after that little session, and I'm sitting in the kitchen tonight after a bitchin' ride in Sedona. Me, CW, AA, and just miles of red dirt. A round of beers at the trailhead, and plans to go again. I've got three months before my racing season starts. Late start, yeah. But - the fire is stoked.

2x10 dreams

2011-01-20T08:57:00.000-08:00

Oh baby, Christmas in January. I picked up a barely used Kona Explosif 29’er frame. Geared or Single. I have options, but it’s going to be a 2x10. It’s an Amber ale copper/brown color and it is definitely easy on the eyes. It’s not light, but steel isn’t light. It’s sturdy, clean, and bitchin’. She won’t get built up for a while, but maybe by August she’ll be ready to roll. I wanna’ do her right. Stans/Hope wheelset, new SRAM 2x10 crankset and at least x-9 level parts. Let’s be real…there’s no need to pay for XO-level components on a steel frame.
Alright, I got a few shots about being a little hard on Aaron Rogers. Dude is a baller, no doubt. Top 3 QB in the NFL on any given day. I could do without the porn-stache, and the ‘tude, but look at the Jets…if you can back it up then you aren’t cocky. There you go haters, a little relief on your boy Rogers.

Our ownership will converge on the property a week from today. They will quiz and question why we had a tough year. Fortunately, when you compare our performance to that of many many other properties, we are doing a good job. It’s not like tourism has recovered in any sense of the word down here in AZ. It’ll be a Dog and Pony show for me, with a huge sigh of relief come Sunday, January 30th at around 1:00pm. It’ll be a 3 hour solo ride in Sedona that day, rain or shine.

7-5 odds

2011-01-18T12:35:00.001-08:00

Aaron Rogers is the best quarterback in the NFL, just ask him. “I was in the zone”. Dude, maybe a word about the OL, and a stellar defensive gameplan? No doubt, some of the throws he made were zone throws, but look douche-tard, STFU and just play the game. Brett Favre then came out and said he thinks “The Packers will win it all……if anybody wants to know”. Check out the big brain on Brett! Way to go out on a limb. Yo Brett, even if you’re right or wrong Vegas doesn’t care because none of the teams left are more than a 4-1 dog so they are the winners. Not you, me or anyone in between. At worst (and I do mean WORST) we get the Bears/Steelers in the SB and that will be a 6 point spread because Jay Cutler is an assclown. Back to Brett – what would be great would be if you went away for a while, and came back to the game once your baggage is sorted through. Holy six month debacle and you made the Metrodome collapse like your career.

While most teams are playing golf and hanging with family, my buddy Vito reminded me that the Vikings are probably hard at work duct taping the roof of the Metro-shanty. Gotta’ squeeze one more year out of that thing before the franchise is relocated to LA after the labor stoppage in the NFL. I mean it has such a truckload of history like the 1998 NFC championship loss to the Falcons when the Vikes went 15-1 in Randy Moss’ rookie year, Tommy Kramer getting 4 DUI’s doing donuts in the parking lot back in the late 80’s, and of course Brett’s last regular season game when he sat on the bench with a stupid purple hat and a 5 day old beard, firing off cheesy smiles. If it weren’t for the Twins winning the World Series in 1987 and 1991 at home, then it wouldn’t be worth the 1,045 man hours to duct tape it back together. I wish they were cutting off the roof and playing open air football next season with little pieces of Teflon blowing in the wind on the top of the stadium. That would be awesome – like a redneck convertible. Just cut the top of your Mercury Cougar with a chainsaw and TA DA! Convertible.

I washed my car for the first time in 11 months this morning. It had Paleozoic era dust as the base layer, and I could hear anthropologists crying as I washed away layer upon layer of soil, fossils, DNA, whatever else was spackled to the car. I kinda’ forgot it was bright red, and it makes me want to sink $1,000 into it to get a bunch of little things fixed. Little things like the broken washer fluid tank, the hatchback wiper, and the fog lights. About 6 months ago, it was as if the Kia Plant Manager hit a button when the warranty expired and the electrical system failed just enough to be a significant inconvenience, but not enough to put me in a ditch at 80 mph….on a downhill of course because the car goes 55 on the climbs. This little box gets 34mph as a commuter car. Nice, right? Yeah, well when I drive it to Phoenix or Tucson, the mileage goes down to around 25. Down. No, I’m not running it in 4th gear either, like I once did to a Hyundai when I drove from MPLS to Wausau, WI. That poor car got something like 17mpg in 3rd gear at 75mph because it didn’t have AC or a tach, and I couldn’t hear the engine screaming with the windows down. Thankfully the gas light worked and it was about that time I was able to manufacture an equation that equaled a reasonable answer called ‘Overdrive Button’. Anyway, it may be time for an upgrade. More on that in February.

Speaking of upgrades, have you seen Aaron Rogers play? He’s the best quarterback in the NFL, just ask him.

Adios

2011-01-13T11:27:00.001-08:00

Q: What sound does a cycling club make when its volunteer board steps down due to apathy and indifference after four years?

A: I’m not sure because I’m not on Facebook, so I can’t listen to the sound that a few jag-off “teammates” make when they get an opportunity to take the keys to the team.

After 4 years of administering a local cycling club, it is ova’. Me, CW, and AA….We went out with a bang by putting together a very nice kit via Hincapie Sportswear, and getting 2011’s kits to our riders before the end of 2010. We left money in the bank account, and set up the sponsors for 2011. The relationship with the shop is in tact, and there are several pro-deals that just need a phone call to secure for the season.

Social clubs are cyclical, and tend to take on the personality of those in charge. After four years, R3 was laden with assclowns like me – middle age guys taking care of their families - decent riders but not good enough to pay any bills. We ride when we can, but it’s not consistent by any definition of the word. 4 years ago, it was a group of 20-somethings who rode to live. Who knows where it will go now. All I know is that we made decisions for the good of all, and we morphed the team into a very tight group last summer.

It’s a small town, so I have already felt the sting of a few knives in the back from the dudes who are taking over. No worries though. That’s part of the cycle, and really…I’d like to say that all I care about is my next ride in my kick ass Hincapie kit, but I’ve caught myself nearly sending a couple of e-mails to the new Prez saying “keep me in the loop, if you need any help, let me know if….blah blah”. I didn’t send either of them. It’s just hard to let go of something that I spent four years on. If anything its great preparation for the day I leave my job with a gold watch and – don’t let the door hit you in the ass.

Fo' Reals?

2011-01-12T20:48:00.000-08:00

This school is coming to Flagstaff in August. One of the top 10 in the US. I'm scratching my head as to why, but for this single instance, it's good to be a resident in our poverty with a view town - and the ridiculous amount of outdoor activities, too. Your kids can start there when they are in 5th grade. Lyza Bee starts 5th grade this fall. They open this fall. Coincidence? Probably. Opportunity? Hell yeah.

My little sweetie has plenty of ability, she's just lacking in motivation from a public school system that is underfunded and that will not change in the near future. Like a gay actor would exclaim "What's my motivation here, Chuckles?" Well, just to give her the opportunity to succeed in this setting is...an opportunity that we're going to go for. Looking at the curriculum made me realize that I won't be able to help her with homework after 8th grade. There is no exaggeration to that statement. "Long story short", if she can succeed in this environment, then she will be leaps and bounds ahead of where I was when I walked into my first class at NAU. "At the end of the day", all you really want for your kids is to give them every opportunity, right?

So now comes the hard part. Beginning to shift and mold her study habits, and to sell her on Basis. I do believe that you have to just go with your kid's strengths and weaknesses and not force things, however, I also have a responsibility to be the parent and guide her into a program that will give her every advantage in the big bad world of a middle class anglo. All she wants is her own locker at school. So for now, she's pumped to go to Basis. If that's what it takes, we are "all in".

Damn, after a week of shitburgers, I got a hot fudge sundae today. Lyza doesn't know it yet, but her Dad and Mom may have found something that could profoundly shape her into an incredible human being. That's waaaayyy too deep for shallow old me, so I'm going to watch some hockey highlights and read my new cycling mag.

Midweek Ramble

2011-01-12T09:54:00.000-08:00

I keep thinkin’ back to last weekend because this week has been an exercise in stress followed by anguish over what the hell happened in Tucson on Saturday. It’s times like this that I believe that kid already had his trial when his ass was apprehended. Time to put that douchebag in a noose and start the healing process. Just another headline for Arizona – the second most f’d up state in the Union, well behind Texas of course.

Anyway, last weekend….

Saturday morning I woke up with no plans whatsoever. I like it like that – options are good. One call to a frustrated JK – frustrated because he couldn’t drum up interest in an mtb ride in Sedona – and we were off to Sedona. Tacky red dirt, muddy red dirt, north facing slopes with snow, all the while in short sleeves in 50+ degrees. The most memorable part was a descent off of a trail called Bandit. The front of my seat came close to my chin with my black chamois’ed ass hanging over the tire as my bike skidded in and out of a drainage/trail that was pretty scary steep. JK walked it. I took a picture of him walking it. He yelled at me for taking a picture of him walking it like a girl named Alice. I saved it, and will get great pleasure out of blackmailing him with it all year. What are friends for, right?

Sunday was a full day on the slopes of Snowbowl. Got my ‘new to me’ skis out with Lzya Bee and we went at it from 9am to 4pm with a 20 minute break for lunch. I got her some Rossi 140’s for the day and she had a lot more control on those boards than the 125’s she was running last spring. It was one of those bluebird days with no wind, and spectacular snow conditions, especially for the soon to be intermediate skier that Lyza has become. Boarding is still #1 in my book, but not with her – we have so much fun skiing together.

Down to Collins’ Irish Pub for penny pints of Miller Lite and to watch Green Bay take Philly down. You wouldn’t confuse me for a Packer fan, but I’d rather see them get to round #2 than freakin’ Mike Vick and the overrated Iggles. BTW, it’s incredible how good a 1 penny pint of ML tastes. Come to think of it, a penny pint of Milwaukee’s Best would taste pretty good too after a full day of skiing.

Having neglected every responsibility around the house, I returned Sunday night and scrambled to pick up a few things. I committed the Cardinal Sin of checking my work e-mail at 9:00pm and found a couple of shitburgers that I couldn’t deal with until Monday morning – a little too late for some people’s liking. Great. Got me 2 hours of sleep that night thanks to the anxiety that my lovely father passed down a generation. God damn. I could not let the issues go. Of course, by 11:00am on Monday everything was solved.

2011-01-07T21:40:00.001-08:00

35 hours a week

2011-01-07T16:00:00.000-08:00

This from the ‘you gotta be fucking kidding me’ file. Nielson – yeah, the tv ratings service, reported that the average American watches 5 hours of TV per day. Per day?
Well college sophomores, we all know what the top 5 professions are for ya’ in 2014:
Television Ad Sales Exec
Remote control ergonomics designer
Rascal movement cart repairperson
Obesity/Diabetes Counselor
La-Z-Boy Distributor

Same as it ever was, pretty much.
Some of my homies back in the Northland are headed to a bike/parts swap this weekend. They are on the lookout for a wheelset for my new/used Kona frame. Yeah buddy, it’s good to have friends back in Whiskyonsin.
MTB tomorrow in Sedona, and skiing on Sunday with my baby girl. After the last week of work – definitely deserved.

Sanchez

2011-01-06T09:29:00.000-08:00

After work yesterday I rolled over to get my daughter for a mid-week visit. Week on / week off can get kinda long sometimes and I was missin’ her so off we went to her all-time favorite Mexican restaurant, and then to Barnes and Noble to look at books/mags. Before I knew it, 8pm was upon us and I had to get her booty back to Mama’s house – homework and bedtime.
Home, and I changed into my running costume, and off with Bodhi into the dark for a relaxing run through the ‘hood. It was cold’er than a frozen over hell, but the air was ripe with sweet-smelling Juniper as the wood stoves were heating half the houses over the hills and through the woods. Love me some winter in this little mountain town.
No snacks before bed because I’m “in training” – whatever that is. I just had a nightmare about falling flat on my face at some of the April endurance races and decided yesterday morning that I had to get serious. Anyway, before crawling into bed, I was reading online about the 'sad stories' of NFL and big time college coaches losing their jobs after disappointing seasons. Whatever – every one of ‘em walks with 2.5mil+ in broken contract payouts. Then I read this story about Mark Sanchez and a little kid named Aiden who died from cancer last week.
My co-workers tease me ‘cause every time a fundraiser request comes in for a Children’s hospital or sick child, I fold like a lawn chair. Can’t help it, man.

The Pumpkins

2011-01-05T06:45:00.000-08:00

Want some fresh new tunes? CLICK HERE and try 'Freak' and/or 'Widow Wake My Mind'. Don't call it a comeback because Billy Corgan was never down.

Season Pass Time

2011-01-04T16:20:00.000-08:00

Hey man, after four straight days in the cooker at work, I woke up this morning with a different idea. Ding! Go pick up my season pass at Snowbowl, and start working on getting my money’s worth. Me and CW got there at 9a, and got in six excellent runs on the board over 1-2 inches of fresh powder before the college kids douched the mountain with their version of awesomeness. We were outta’ there by 11:30am.
It’s five hours later and my fingers and toes are still on the cold side of the temp-o-meter. It was 12 degrees when we hit the slopes and my best estimate is that when descending at 30+ mph the windchill probably dropped to minus ‘a lot of degrees’. My ears were fine inside a helmet, but those fingers and toes were just hangin’ on for dear life. Oh baby, you won’t ever find me blowin’ $70,000 on an expedition to Everest. I’ll be back on Thursday for a repeat, and Sunday - all day - with my big baby girl. She’s stoked to be skiing again.
I just booked two nights at Planet Hollywood in Vegas for the first two days of March Madness. It’s 100% the place to be if you watch that tournament with fire in your eye, and side bets on games with schools that you thought were High Schools facing big guns like UCONN, Wake, Texas, and UCLA. Me and Uncle Steve….always a good time.

'11

2011-01-02T20:57:00.000-08:00

"Let's keep the Christ in Christmas" That was one of the more comical bumper stickers I saw over the holidays. "My body is a temple 5 days a week, but it's an amusement park on the weekends" drew a smile. Then there was "Fuck you, you fuckin' fuck". Awesome.

The break went a bit different than planned. Me thought I would ride quite a bit, but it got cold and snowy out - thus 5 runs in 6 days. I know, what the hell, right? OK, the runners of the world would scoff, so let me rephrase and say I jogged 4 times and crawled once. I bowled once too - so I got my upper body workout in. I had a great break in Tucson after working straight through Dec 26th. Working Christmas Eve and Day doesn't really mean shit to me. I've never been a big Holiday guy - as in celebrating on the exact day - I just want some time off at some point over the holidays to see family and sip Maker's Mark which reminds me of how weak of a drinker I really am. Total poser.

Now that Defcon 5 has been averted at work its time to turn my attention to turns this week...as in snowboard turns. You know, because I'm forty fuckin' three already and I never seem to get enough turns in. The last thing I want to be is lying in a hospital bed when I'm 71 lamenting a lack of turns when I was a yute. Gold watch from work when I retire? Shaaa, right. Statue in my name at town square? That's a lot of ass kissing. I just want to have fun, today. Right now. All the time.

Happy New Year and spare me your resolutions. Just get whatever it is done quietly, with purpose, and without fanfare and we'll all be better for it.

Points

2011-01-02T20:31:00.001-08:00

It's Sunday, and I've had 'one of those days' at work that I just want to erase from my hard drive. Pissed of customers with "entitilitis", broken water lines, backed up sewage, downed electric lines from a blizzard, and the bane of all white people - wireless internet that doesn't work. "OMG - WTF am I gonna do". I dunno lady, try connecting with your husband or your abandoned kids for once?

I drive fairly aimlessly into town and see the lone Conoco gas station on the right. They have 24oz cans of Tecate for 1.99. Yeah, buddy. I bring one of those tallboys to the counter and the young cashier says "Do you have your points card with you".

Points card for a gas station?

Conoco, Hilton, Amazon, and every credit card out there boast a customer loyalty program that is sure to undeniably ensure that you buy more from said vendor just so you can save more. No, I don't have a points card for Conoco. The now not so sweet cashier shrugs as if I'm the dumbass and rings me up.

My personal fave is traveling out of state and going to a grocery store that is not in AZ. Flo asks for my 'shopper card' or whatever it's called, and I don't have one, so my grocery bill goes from $34 to $134 because I'm now paying a 5000 percent markup for apples, power bars, and a sixer of High Life. I explain I'm from out of state....fucking crickets from Flo. So - I stand in line and fill out a form to be a 'shopper card' member for one day so I don't get raped in front of 11 witnesses in the checkout line.

2010-12-23T14:41:00.000-08:00

The first two miles were like a Vietnamese downpour, but I was plenty warm and comfortable climbing. A tailwind, after the second turn, I didn't even recognize until I flipped around to come back down. No wonder I was going faster than normal. The road turned to snow at 8,000 feet and conditions went from super fun, to fun, to the point where I really wasn't interested in an A-level solo adventure because the blizzard conditions were making the road hard to follow - on the way up, and I was gettin' a little concerned about descending. I got to Aspen Corner (mile 5), and out of self-preservation I dropped the bike, changed into dry clothes, and pointed it back down. It was then that I realized I had a 20+ mph tailwind propelling me up. Holy sh*t is all I can say, because glasses were worthless, a light was worthless and thank God for giving us all eyelashes. I descended looking for tire tracks to follow but they had been blown away. I wasn't freakin' out, but I had to guess a couple of times on curves as to where the road was. Not a girlfriend/wife ride, for sure.

I must be living, in some respects anyway, right - because outta' nowhere comes what had to be a Snowbowl employee headed down in a big-ass F-150. He leans out his window and says "Nice job Red Rock". That was cool - musta' seen the bibs. I followed his taillights at 20mph with uber traction in the heavy snow until that flat spot near mile 3....the snow turned back to rain, and over the next three miles, in a heavy downpour, I had water running into my MTB shoes, into my bibs, and - so much so that I just started laughing at how f'd up it was to be out in this. Totally got my ass handed to me. Got to the car, hit the heat, and the ride was done.

Powder Day

2010-12-18T08:56:00.000-08:00

Recipe

2010-12-16T07:25:00.000-08:00

A recipe for falling asleep before 9pm – here ya go:

1-bike of your choice (15psi, 2.3+ tires recommended - studs would be perfect)
1-winter weather fully kitted costume including gore-tex ear band and thermofleece tights
1-1 hour sustained climb on a crusty snowy road followed by a 15 minute sketchy descent in a m’f’n cold ass wind
1-20 minute soak in a hot tub to get the blue/black color out of face and extremities
2-plates of food - random food really, it doesn't matter
1-beer (stronger alcohol content preferred since you're going straight to bed - think Nyquil)

Say goodnight, Chris

Mall Cop

2010-12-14T08:46:00.001-08:00

So after a long day on Saturday that included a great bike ride in the Catalina Mountains with several teammates, and 6 hours of non-stop playtime with two rugrats, I was done. We clicked the TBS version of “Point Break” off, and I don’t even remember falling asleep.

4:00am and the alarm goes off at my Sister’s house. She has it shut off in 15 seconds, and I stumble out of bed with a big fat WTF hanging over my head. My contact lenses are in their case and all I want to do is head back to bed. It was a squirrel, or a bird, or a whatever…. who gives a shit. Then my Sister says that it NEVER goes off, and she seemed a bit, well, alarmed.

We checked on the kids and they were not abducted and they were already back to sleep. So we then went about checking doors and doing a pretty informal ‘lockdown’ on the house. The last room to check was the upstairs playroom so up I lead and I see the east side French doors wide open. I ask my sis “were those closed when you checked this room”. She said “those were closed”. My sister is a girlie girl, but she’s pretty calm under pressure. I didn’t panic and just walked right up to them figuring if there was somebody there all I would see is an outline and I’d just start throwing haymakers. Great plan, tough guy. Your vision is 20x150 and you’re plan is to toss haymakers? That’s some crystal clear thinking.

I got to the doors, and looked at the jamb and there was no sign of forced entry. We realized that the doors had been closed, but not latched, and the 30mph breeze outside popped ‘em open. We never did check the closet adjacent to the doors, and I ended up dreaming about thugs hiding in there the rest of the night. I should have just walked up there and did a double check, but the dreams were pretty good. Big guys, little guys, AK 47’s, Glocks, hatchets, Jason and Michael Myers from Halloween. The whole gamut of possible intruders. Turns out, my Sister had the same dreams.

Another relaxing weekend in Tucson.

Survival of the unfittest

2010-12-08T10:07:00.001-08:00

Bike practice has been few and far between since early October, and I paid the price last Saturday at the Dawn til Dusk event at the McDowell Mountains. I raced down to the valley on Friday, attended a mandatory work party for our owners until 12:30am, scrambled to catch some sleep, then out the door at 5am on Saturday morning to drive over to the race which started at 7:13am. Goooooooooo! Famous last words were “I’m just going to take it easy at the start since it’s a long day”. Nope. Some local Flagstaff towners were drillin’ it so I joined in.

You know you know you’re fucked when it’s 68 degrees out and you’re chilled to the bone from your effort. I went way over redline on lap one, and sat in our campsite knowing the rest of the day was going to suck. I managed to tack on two more 15 mile laps, and after the 3rd, I was done. My thighs felt like they had vices on them, and women, children, unicycles, were passing me – at least in my mind they were. One guy who had no business passing me, did in fact pass me, and as he went by he said something like “just cruising along”. I took it personal and fired back “fuck off”. Ya think I have issues? He just kept on riding because….. I realized he had headphones on. I was ready to throw down bikes and fight. How great would that headline have been? “Two 40 year olds throw down at local endurance event over 20th place. Both end up covered in cactus and in the ER with lacerations and crushed pride.”

I sat down in a camp chair at 2pm and didn’t get up for an hour. Talk about an ass-handing. Beer didn’t even taste good. Fortunately there were three teammates there to tell me how shitty of a job I did, and before long we were all laughing about this that and the other. Love me some teammates.
Sunday morning was gorgeous, and so we headed over to local pal Mark T’s place for a road ride. It was total amateur hour, so the pace was slow and that was a good thing. 45 miles on the road bikes was the absolute best recovery I could have had.

Monday night, me and MG began the Snowbowl night time hill climb series with a slow SS grind up the mountain at 6pm. Pitch black, a bit of snow on the road, and I felt strong as an ox. Good times. Only problem is that I woke up yesterday with a top quality fever, cramps, and bodyaches that lasted all day. I haven’t missed a day of work in 1.5 years, and that all changed yesterday. I was a sack of shit, all day.

Today, back in the saddle. I rolled into Lyza’s classroom and sang a song with her about supply/demand. It was fun….my little Leo got all shy in front of her teacher. Big hug on the way out the door, and life is good, baby.

Jamochafudge

2010-12-02T11:10:00.001-08:00

It’s pretty easy for all of us to look back and mark chapters in our lives. Military service, college, marriage, kids etc. I just lost a dog that had been with me for 15 years, and that was one memorable chapter. Jamocha had seen a lot in her time, and fortunately for her, it was always about finding fun. No less than seven near death experiences, ridiculous vet expenses, feats of survival that still make me cringe, and she only missed one meal because of surgery.

I could tell stories for hours about her. Eating furniture, getting beat by a pit bull, obliterating our neighbors gardens, swimming in any pool without a fence – much to the chagrin of local homeowners associations, several near drownings in semi-frozen lakes, falling out of a jeep at 30 mph, chowing a box of rat poison, and eating 20 pounds of dog food in under an hour. Just awesome stuff that, even when walking her down the green mile of the vets office, made me laugh through the tears.

She went from being called Jamocha, to fudge, to fudgedog, to Japoo, to Geej, to Gramstains. Gramstains was an affectionate name for a ‘grandma dog that left a mark on the wall, the couch, the floor, basically everywhere she went’. That was my girl. Never ever a dull moment.

When I picked her up at 3 months old in 1995, she was jumping from couch to couch in the living room of a single mother who had no chance of handling her. The thing that sticks in my head is that she went out completely used up. Every muscle was shot, every sense, save her sniffer, was gone, and she had a look on her drooping face that said “I’m done”. Good for you ol’ sweetie. We won’t forget you, how could we? You drove on two wheels with your tires chirping at every stoplight for 15 years.

November Singletrack

2010-11-26T08:02:00.000-08:00

I put in an honest eight at work on Thanksgiving Day, getting out of the office at 2:30p. Working on Thanksgiving is one of the best days of the year because all of a sudden everyone is so goddamn happy. Garbage disposal stuck? No problem – fix it Friday! You can’t get your favorite game on TV because the channel is out? No problem – there are plenty of games to watch this weekend! I think that family time cures a lot of ailments in the first 24 hours, but after that, it causes more than it cures.

Regardless, it was a good start to the day, but the best was yet to come. It was 23 degrees when I got home, but the sun was shining. I costumed-up, grabbed the singlespeed, and hit the snow covered singletrack for a pre-meal ride. The window of opportunity to ride snow covered trails is so small…..but when you have ½” – 1” of snow cover, cold air, and warm sun – it’s optimal. Great traction, no sloppy slush, and where the hell is everyone? Inside, by their fireplaces and/or stuffing their faces, I take it. Cutting corners hard, climbing with snow flying off the tread, occasionally hitting a clear spot of tacky dirt where my speed would quickly double. Great. Fun. Smiling from ear to ear.

Mmmm, we had baked turkey fillets, roasted root vegetables including rutabagas, turnips, and sweet potatoes with a nice side salad. Pumpkin pie followed with a fookin’ pound of homemade whipped cream. That’s as good as it gets, aside from the fact that by little blondie was in Phoenix.

The good news is that I get to leave work on Friday around 2p, and I’m headed down to get her for a weekend soccer tournament. 65 degrees, sun, and four games +1 if they get into the finals on Sunday morning. Yeah buddy – I’m ready to go and it’s only 8:57a.

Flagstaff Athletes

2010-11-16T15:46:00.000-08:00

If you ask anyone who plays any sport out here if they have been training and/or staying in shape, you always and I repeat ALWAYS get the same answer: “Not really, every now and then, but I’m not competing or anything”. The following weekend after your discussion, said person climbs the podium at nearly any event they enter.

Bring up the subject of their most recent ride or run, and you often her terms like ‘vert’ (vertical feet climbed), and other asinine stats that originate from their stem or wrist mounted Garmin. For example: “We hit the summit of Agassiz, dropped back down, and looped the west side of Elden just to reach an even 25. It was 6+ vert with a max 12% grade in 3:40. We’re gonna’ go rim to rim to rim at the Grand Canyon next weekend, you want in?”

Do I want in – are you fucking kidding me?

This is a classic way for Flagstaff athletes to finish their story for two reasons. 1) There are enough people in town who could do that workout at the required pace, so they are serious when they ask if you want to join…..and 2) It’s their way of staying humble - because even though they are aware that running rim to rim to rim is stupid-hard, they also know that there are 100+ people in town that could kick their ass on that route. There is always somebody who can beat your best.

I’m not an athlete by our local definition because I can’t hold a candle to the fast people in town. However, I have fallen into this trap myself. Posting words about elevation gained and lost on rides as if flatlanders would ooooohhhh and aaaahhhhh nodding their heads in amazement, or talking about dangerous exposure points that are “easy if you know the line”. Passing on a 3-hour Sunday ride in favor of a 5 hour marathon because “I need the miles”. Is this an ‘Out West’ thing similar to the way the athletes talk in Durango, Bend, SLC, and Vail? I think it is, and I think a lot of people move out west to experience BIG. Big mountains, rivers, trails, storms, and powder. I love big too, I’m just now figuring out I don’t have to talk quite…. so……big.

So today, I got outside early, just as the sun began to think about coming up. I was chasing the warmth as the rays met the treetops and slowly made their way down to me – on two wheels – on the ground. I stripped off a layer and made my way through the singletrack route. A half dozen deer left me in their dust, and I couldn’t help but notice just how cumbersome I must have looked to them; dodging, dropping off of, and climbing over rocks along a strip of trail when they could bound across the earth in any direction over any terrain. As I headed home, it felt warm. Work was looming, but anytime I can get out and play before work, well, I’m a pretty good boy the rest of the day.

See what I mean? I could have been in NC, MN, AZ, or eastern Kansas. It’s about the ride for me, and that’s what imma’ focus on. I’ll leave the stats to the fast guys.

burnt down to the coals

2010-11-10T11:07:00.000-08:00

I was on my way to the hot tub this morning. It was still dark out, and as I made my way through the living room I could see my old girl Jamocha was walking around in anticipation of her breakfast. 15 years, and she’s skipped one meal. I gave her a mulligan on that one since it was post-surgery.

My right foot hit a warm pile of Labrador-made soft serve. I put my other foot down, and hit another. Thankfully, I have heels and they got me to the bathtub without further incident. That was a faster wake-up than I needed. 10 minutes later the pooch was chowin’ breakfast and I was in the hot tub lookin’ at stars and shit.

The fire inside of me has burnt down to coals. No riding. No running. If it weren’t for pull-ups and body weight exercises, I’d be classified as a typical sedentary American. Work has been steady and good in a lot of ways because we’re on a successful run, and my little bean Lyza B has kept me running with her homework/club soccer/social life. At the end of every day, its 9:45pm – Lyza is asleep, the dogs are asleep, and I’ve got a warm house and a book…..and that feels fortunate and fine.

I’m not sure what it will take to stoke the fire inside. Racing bikes feels like a shell of what it meant in early October. Skiing and Boarding are on my mind but it’ll be a while before opening day. The short days are here for 3 months, and it just feels right to take advantage of the down time and have an inward look at just what the fuck is important to me – besides the obvious.

Underneath the barely glowing embers, I still have a bonfire of passion for riding on two wheels. The bikes will be on the rack waiting for me in January when it’s colder than cold, and I do look forward to suffering on cold training days. The pain of underperforming in April always wins over a warm house and a book in January. Yup, it’ll be there when I’m ready.

Fat Man's Pass

2010-11-01T17:23:00.000-07:00

Saturday morning I set out alone, and rolled into the garage at almost 3 hours on the nose. It felt like I was in slow motion, just climbing steady with no energy to speed it up, and little ambition to spark the energy. Groves of yellow aspen appeared at various points, and I found some fresh singletrack that was in the process of being built. Love it. After 2 hours and 15 minutes of climbing, it was time to get some payback, and I made sure to draw out that process with some more down than up rollers, followed by a plunge back to the hovel on Cedar Ave. Well done. I spent the whole time thinking about things going on with me and around me, and not once was I able to let it go. Fuck I hate that. In hindsight, it was probably a male therapy session, because guys don’t talk very well to therapists – at least this one doesn’t. The trees and the wind said I was a’ight, so I believed ‘em.

This morning I woke up leisurely after putting in a full day at the office on Sunday. I had a 9am ride booked with Wilkens, and he showed up with his road bike. We got our signals mixed up, and so we high tailed it back to his house to get his phat tire rig. Hey, given a choice on a cool fall day, I’m riding the woods EVERY TIME. Fuckin’ skinny tires don’t stand a chance when the singletrack is tacky.

We bolted into the forest to get outta’ the wind, and I led CW across the technical side of Mt. Elden. This portion of trail isn’t ridden all that much because of the steps/drops/loose granite, and sharp high desert cactus shit all over the place. In my world, it’s a blast and CW was right there with me as probably my only riding buddy who likes risking his body and beating his bike up. We opted for Fat Man’s Pass which includes a 10 minute hike-a-bike section that then leads to the holy grail. 1.5 miles of downhill that looks flat out unrideable, and you best be slithery ‘cause you won’t fit through many of the downhill chutes. It’s white knuckle fun, and worst case scenario is you stack it, fall 4-5 feet into Prickly Pear cactus, some sharp Manzanita tree branches, or you get all raspberried on granite boulders. The point of all this fun you ask?….for 2.5 hours I didn’t even think about work/family/life and the ride?….as my buddy JK loves to say when he sees a hot Hopi woman: “phenomenal”. You’re God damn right it was, the blood on my knee was phenomenal. The two sets of hikers who asked us if we were crazy – phenomenal. The clear blue sky – phenomenal, and the fact that I could get out and do this on a Monday, well that was worth every hour I put in on Sunday - phenomenal. It was all just so freakin' phenomenal.

CW was beat to shit by the end. Not physically, just mentally. It’s tiring riding that stuff, and I think he’s got a lot on his plate too as he’s considering relocating the fam to California for better employment. That’s a lot to think about, and I’m afraid his Monday ride was like my Saturday ride. We’ll get after it again on Wednesday and I have a feeling we’ll both be in the right place. We have a race in a month, and beer/food is on the line as a side bet against another duo. We’ll be ready, or, we’ll be full and drunk, or all three.

Joshdeisha

2010-10-27T09:22:00.000-07:00

My Wednesday ‘master of the obvious’ comment pertains to politics. These elections really bring out the worst in people. I was listening to NPR reports on various elections across the country, and only found one story to be remotely interesting – the California Governor’s race.

Jesus H Christ, how the hell is Jerry Brown still in the political game? That dude was in office when I was a teenager, and I vaguely remember a lame attempt for during a Presidential primary back when I worked for the Stinkin’ Grand Hotel in the early 90’s. Now he’s running against the former CEO of EBay, a billionaire woman who certainly has her shit together from a business perspective. Just as the report was heading into the doldrums of political hell, NPR transitioned into a story about a 52 year old transvestite who has made his way up the political ladder in San Francisco. Way up the ladder to the point where he/she is a leading candidate for the SF Board of Supervisors. The thing that caught me was when he came out of the closet, his kids disowned him for a long, long time. WTF? I mean, he’s your Dad. Even if this guy decided to put on a skirt and start riding a pink bike and went to Thailand to have his parts changed – and I’m not talking about derailleur’s and handlebars here – I’d still ride and race with he/she. We might call he/she Joshuita or Joshdeisha, but me thinks he/she wouldn’t be disowned by his/her ridding buddies.

Anyway, there’s no point, as usual, other than I’m skipping the remainder of the political coverage until this election is over next Tuesday – or whenever election day is. I’d much rather hear about transvestites, crash and burn rockers, and great stories about singletrack and fresh powder on the mountain.

Fall Beaut

2010-10-21T13:00:00.000-07:00

The singletrack at 9,500 feet - love me some fall colors. It's nothing like back in MN with the red/orange/yellow, but it's what we got - aspen gold.

Changes #2

2010-10-20T12:06:00.001-07:00

Got me a season pass today. Got me some Fischer fat boards and boots last week to ski the trees. Got the snowboard tuned and ready to rip. Now, we just need a few more inches of snow. You know, like 50 or so. Let it snow!

History says that when I buy a pass we have a bad winter - c'mon man, let me cash some karma in on this winter. I swear I've been livin' right?!

Sunset lift, 10/14/10 Base: 0 Expected snowfall today: 0

Change

2010-10-19T12:56:00.000-07:00

The rains are coming, the leaves are blowing, and there's a fuck ton of change in the air. More on that in a few weeks.

Last night hail and a biblical downpour chased by black spandexed ass off the mountain. I felt like a wave was about to crest on me, as I was mowing down the singletrack decent home. Quickly into the garage, sit down in front of the heater to change out of the clown suit and - I'm surprised my skylights didn't just explode. Hail. Gimme shelter. Love me some warm house.

Aside from a thrilling ride, my legs feel like dock posts from Sturgeon Bay that were cemented in the '80's. I don't know what the heck is going on, but ever since I wasted the form I had two weeks ago, I've felt like a slow sack of shit. Yeah yeah, we're not talking about minutes slower, no - it's more about feeling good. I pounded out a good climb on Saturday with Navajoel and D at Wupatki, but even there I felt flat and unresponsive.

Speaking of unresponsive, the Montana State Cougs were totally unresponsive in the Skydome on Saturday night. With me, Lyza and a ton of friends cheering on the 'Jacks. NAU baby, college football powerhouse - they would only lose to Wisconsin or Alabama by 90+ points.

Remember L7? No? I know you love your Wilco, your Feist, your Coldplay, and your Arcade Fire - I get that, but throw a little L7 on and listen to some music that'll move walls. These chix bring it.

Phoenicians

2010-10-14T17:56:00.001-07:00

The Phoenicians will be up in our little mountain town this weekend, so D and I made a good call to go on and get the heck up into the mountains before the really big SUV's with every kid donning A&F clothes clog the first mile of every trail in and around the peaks. Today? Sunny - 70 degrees, maybe 10 cars tops. The Aspen tree leaves are turning gold, and it all felt really pristine. I think that was my 50th trip up this year, and it never gets old. It never gets easy either. We rode at a very modest pace, taking nearly 50 minutes to do the climb. PR is 36:30, so it was a chill ride....but, it still hurt and I loved every minute of it.

The Phoenicians. They are like FIBS (f*ckin' Illinois bastards) are to Michiganders. Sure, come on up and spend your $$ here, but go on and get the hell home come 2:00pm on Sunday - and don't come back until next Friday. The difference between us Flagstaffians and Michiganders is that all Michiganders are one generation or less removed from white trash roots, often substituting snow machines for cars 9 months a year. Horriffic wine, pasties, Kid Rock, and Insane Clown Posse cap off the backwards-assness there.

Of course, I'll be heading down to Phoenix next weekend for Lyza's soccer tournament, and I expect to see lower gas prices, affordable lodging, unclogged freeways, and great food/service at an attractive price. You know, because you f*ckers stomp on my trails all weekend. It's like that.

"dumbification" of trails

2010-10-12T09:36:00.000-07:00

I came home from work yesterday and my daughter was playing ‘leader of the pack’ with the neighborhood kids. After ensuring she had her cellie, I put on the costume, and drilled it into the woods. Some local trail advocacy group has been doing so much work on Rocky Ridge that it’s close to deserving the name Less Than Rocky Ridge. Jesus people, back in the 90’s this was the litmus test for tech skills. These days – if it weren’t for the west side being obliterated by flood damage, thus incredibly fun and technical – it’s on its way to being one of those horizontal escalators you see at airports. I know, I sound like some retro grouch, but for fooks sake you don’t have to dig down a country fookin’ mile to remove rocks from the Paleozoic era just to smooth out a bumpy trail. What’s next, pavement?

Anyway, the big wheels kept on rollin’ until dusk and after sharing a colossal taco meal with the fam, it was “watch Brett Favre further self-destruct” time. Dude – it’s time to bail. Please. For the sake of everyone you have scorched in MN and WI. Can you please spell O-V-E-R? You can always come back to the booth, or go on Dancing with the Stars in a couple of years. It’s just time to get the hell on.

Somehow I missed just how great The Replacements were in the 80’s and 90’s. I stumbled on a Paul Westerberg track a few days back, and a few clicks later I’m uncovering gems I used to live for like “Alex Chilton”. Those guys were drunk for 10 years straight, and managed to rip off a sequence of songs that laid the path for a lot of bands – Fish, insert Wilco here. Quick transfer to my cell phone, and I’ve got some more killer tunes to listen to and from work this week.

Saturday I got semi-suckered into a pair of phat alpine skis – used, at the right price – but man after skiing last spring I really “needed” a pair. Yo, I’m still a knuckle dragging boarder, but these Fischer fat boards are going to be a blast. OK then, let it snow!

comin back

2010-10-11T10:21:00.000-07:00

After the Tour of the White Mountains, I took a week off – had my bike repaired at the shop – and just worked a lot. It took a while to let go of that wasted opportunity. Me and JK, we’re still friends, no blood no foul, but it was a mental hurdle for me to get over.

Saturday afternoon I rolled out for a ride in the fading light. My legs felt like they had vices on them. Lungs, fine. Legs, worthless. The regression after 7 days off the bike was demoralizing, but not enough to keep me from smiling most of the way because the trails were in primo shape after 3 days of rain mid-week. I had sent Big Steve an e-mail last week talking about dumping my SS and getting geared bike. He didn’t reply because he’s heard it before. I was talking jibberish. Me love me some one gear.

Sunday brought another ride in the fading light. I still felt weak, but a small improvement was encouraging. Even today, my legs feel flat, but I think that’ll all go away soon enough. That mental takedown from a week ago hurt – much more than I thought it did.

Ahhhh, a new week. Soccer practices, work, a Snowbowl road ride with D on Thursday morning, and bam – it’s Friday. Here we go.

F'd up

2010-10-04T16:16:00.000-07:00

I fucked up. A half day off from work, 5 hours of travel time, many days of riding/training – and I pissed it all away by agreeing to ride the same pace as a buddy over a 60 mile bike race. He exacerbated my frustration by crashing the race (skipping the entry fee), and experiencing numerous mechanical, psychological, and physical issues over the course of 6 hours, 15 minutes.

It wasn’t as though it was a bad day on the bike. The course was fun, the temp was perfect, the aid stations were well stocked, and the volunteers were overly nice bluehairs. As mon frère battled his issues, I had plenty of time to relax and see that riding in the B/C group meant I was surrounded with a bunch of guys who have plenty of money, but are short on time to ride. $5,000+ bikes were the norm. Carbon full suspension was the choice for most of these guys. I didn’t run into any posers – rather – these guys were all genuinely nice, and were giving it their all through some tough terrain. Most of them were a bit out of their element once we hit mile 50, but they were all leaving everything they had on the course. Pretty cool, I thought. Hell – these are the guys who keep the bike industry going. They pay the bills for companies like Specialized/Trek/Cannondale/Mavic/Shimano to ensure innovation year over year.

Once JK worked through his issues including severe neck pain that required a 20 minute shut down going into the last major aid station, we knocked out the last 10 miles with a moderate pace and no unnecessary stops except for one Latin woman he had to “help” because her chain came off. Latin, Navajo, Cuban, they are all like Goddesses to JK, and I wasn’t surprised to be waiting trailside for another five minutes after I passed a female rider. I was disappointed in him for not paying to ride (and not telling me about it until we met at the start line) in a well organized event – although he wasn’t taking from the aid stations along the way – but it just seemed lame.

So, I rolled into the finish, in my estimation – at least a full hour plus slower than I could have. Instead of me standing on the podium as part of the top 5 singlespeeders, it was my other teammate Adam who made it into 4th place. He had a great ride, and I would have loved to have ridden wheel to wheel with him. I have had very few podium-worthy rides, and it would have been nice to get one on Saturday. I congratulated him, and immediately just let it go. “IT” being the jealousy and aggravation associated with knowing that I threw a rare opportunity away. I fucked up.

The lesson from all this - for me anyway. Don’t waste an opportunity. A pie truck could hit me tomorrow and after a funeral with 11 people max, I’d be a distant memory. So, show up, punch it, and leave your best effort….dammit.

Worlds in Geelong

2010-09-30T14:00:00.000-07:00

The World Championship Elite Road Cycling race takes place in Melbourne/Geelong this weekend. I’m not sure if it will run live on Saturday or Sunday considering the date line/time change, but use this link http://www.cyclingfans.com/ if you want to find out and then scroll down to find a free link to watch it. You’ll get great British commentators who make Paul/Phil sound like masters of the obvious – which is what they pretty much are. Or, you’ll get French commentators and you’ll just have to really pay attention to the video feed – or simultaneously read Velonews’ live ticker.

Sources say 7pm EST on SAT in the US. It's a long race, so don't get there too early.

Imma be riding in Pine Top this weekend. Race report on Monday.

September Sun

2010-09-24T12:37:00.000-07:00

A few weeks back I was creeping close to really feeling ready for the Tour of the White Mountains. Jump forward to now, and I’m feelin’ like it’s gonna’ be more of a Tour rather than the race pace I was hoping to do. Riding has been scaled back lately as the sun has been setting too early on my late summer parade. Soccer duties, and work have filled in the free time gaps.

No matter. 5-6 hours of singletrack in 75 degrees, riding with teammates at a tour pace sounds really freakin' good right now. I was lying in bed this morning awake at 6:00am fighting the urge to stay warm and skip a ride. 20 minutes later I was kitted up and cutting through the 35 degree overnight temp. Ouch it was cold, but that’s because I’m a fu*king Alice, and not used to it yet. It’ll take a few frozen toes to get me in fall/winter riding mode.

The trails had been soaked on Wednesday with nearly an inch of rain. They were still primo this morning, and I did the most I could with 50 minutes of time. Up up up and back down down down to town. 50 minutes, lots of technical fun, and I was ready to dump the leg warmers as the sun came over the ridgeline on the way back.

This weekend brings a wedding in Prescott, two rides, Field Marshaling for a soccer tournament, Lyza’s back from Phoenix on Sunday afternoon, and boom….it’ll be Monday. What's that line by Green Day "Wake me up, when September ends"? Its been more like "I need a f*cking nap, when September ends".

2010-09-22T18:04:00.000-07:00

I went to a funeral today on behalf of one of my employees. I didn't know his mother - who by the way, died of a massive stroke last Friday. It was a small funeral home in a small town with a small crowd. 14 people were there. She was 84 and had been stricken with Alzheimers for the last five years of her life - which turned into a living hell for those around her.

14 people? Then I thought....at 84 years she probably outlived most of her friends, and would she even have any left after dealing with that wretched disease? 14 photos were on the wall of her - from birth in 1926, married in '46, a college degree in '54, and so on. A woman spoke, and told of her memories of being the daughter. It was ponies and rainbows. Pink lemonade, sunshine and sparkles. It sounded opaque, shallow, and contrived. The bitch didn't thank her brother once. Saving the details - let's just say she was more concerned with the will than her family.

Her son - the person who works for me - stood up, visibly strong but shaken, and told what I thought was a brutally honest account of what it took to take care of his mother. He was committed to not putting her in a nursing home - no matter the cost. He didn't share any memories of when he was young, or the things they did together before she got sick. Nada. Oh he was sad for her death, but it was clear that the weight of caring for her was gone, and it gave a newfound strength. It was powerful. It was then that I realized I was surrounded by her caregivers. Nurses, specialists, and an ambulance driver who had all too often taken to and from the local hospital.

Unceremoniously, it was over in 38 minutes, and I haven't even processed what any of this symbolizes. I was on my way back to work thinking about D, Lyza, work, my family, and sneaking a ride in before dark.....life goes on.

soccer sunday

2010-09-21T12:14:00.000-07:00

So, there I was, on the sideline of the girls U-10 championship game on Sunday playing the role of soccer dad. Man, I couldn’t have been happier watching my baby girl’s team play. The games were 1000x more gripping, to me anyway, than watching any pro team in any pro sport.

I made a pact with myself early on that I would never, ever, ever critique her play unless she asked me to. That’s up to her coach, and she’s fortunate to have a great leader filling that role for her this year. She’s the newest member of the team, and with that comes some confusion about where to be, and when to use her energy. It would be easy to stand up and shout instructions, but, I won’t. My Mom handled it right by providing encouragement and letting the coaches do the coaching – and not letting me quit when I wanted to. If my head got big she ignored it, and when I was feeling overmatched she let me work through it. There’s a lot more to playing a team sport at this age than winning games.

So, they won the tourney. The final game could have gone either way and even the girls knew it. Lyza played in the shadow of better teammates, and stepped out occasionally to make good plays from time to time. Rightfully, she was on the bench more than the better players. Riding pine can do more for you than being the star.

Now, her days of equal playing time, ribbons just for finishing, and not keeping score are long gone. So goes the innocence, too.

That's a nicer bike than mine

2010-09-17T16:06:00.000-07:00

2010-09-14T15:55:00.000-07:00

Usually, when you get one of these, it's only a matter of time. Usually. I'm just sayin', not accusin', just sayin'.

Believe Tyler
Believe Floyd
Believe Vino
Believe Ullrich
Believe Heras
Believe Valverde
Believe Kohl
Believe Pantani
Believe Virenque
Believe Riis
Believe Ricco
Believe Mancebo
Believe Mazzolini
Believe Millar
Believe Basso
Believe Kazechekin
Believe Armstrong?

At the end of the day, who really cares.

2010-09-14T09:46:00.000-07:00

So we're riding up the mountain on Saturday and as the pitch gets steeper, she keeps her pace and I want to fall back a bit - but I can't. I get pulled by her through the crux and onto what amounts to a long false flat. She's still going good, so I step it up a notch but it hurts. Sweat is pouring down my grille, and I'm not seeing anything besides handlebars and pavement just past my front wheel. Three deer pop up on the right just ahead and it slows us down as we let them pass - for her it was a cute interlude, for me it was a 20 second rest from the gates of aerobic hell. Game back on as the deer disappear.

I'd had enough. I needed some space. I don't like it when somebody else dictates my pace, especially a chick. So, I put what I had left into my pedalstroke and got the 20 second gap I needed to mentally adjust into a good place. The 6.2 mile mark came up and I stopped near the ski lift and relaxed for the first time in 40+ minutes.

She rode up, circled around and stopped next to me.

Me: Fucker
Wife: - laughing -
Me: You were drillin' it on the steeps
Wife: No, I was just keeping a steady pace
Me: That hurt
Wife: I couldn't hang on that last pitch, why did you go that hard?
Me: I just needed some space. I couldn't stand seeing your wheel any longer
Wife: - laughing - I thought you were sandbagging?!
Me: -sweat pouring out of helmet - Does this look like sandbagging?
Wife: -laughing more now -
Me: That was fun
Wife: Weren't those deer cute?

2010-09-10T11:37:00.000-07:00

As of this coming Monday, I am steppin’ down from my little position on our little cycling team’s little board of directors. Two words for you: Term Limits. There’s a reason they are important in any sort of position where you represent a group of people. There’s fresh, hungry, young blood on the team and – we need to capitalize on that. The good news – nobody will really care. Being on a little team in a little town with a little budget….means there’s little fallout. It won’t change my riding pals; it’ll just alleviate a few headaches associated with managing the egos of a few team members who can’t seem to get along with the rest.

We’re still going to crank out one last kit by early November. Call it jersey b. Call it the black option. Call it, our best work to date. That’s a good way to go out the door, me thinks.

mmmmm, so define 'epic'?

2010-09-06T12:07:00.000-07:00

Man, I’m always hesitant about using the term ‘epic’ for rides because it’s become cliché in the cycling world. I guess it means different things to different people, and that’s cool, but for me it means a near outer body experience either physically, mentally or both when riding. In short, something goes so wrong or something goes so right that it becomes something you don’t ever forget. I’ve chased the White Minivan before, and other things quite like it, and my guess is that you may have too.

There was nothing epic about this weekend’s rides, but the two rides I did do were Grade motherfuckin’ A. Saturday me and D zipped up snowbowl on the roadies in a good time amidst 75 degree temps and surprisingly light traffic considering the holiday weekend. She will always be my #1 riding partner because there’s just something incredibly cool about pedaling stroke for stroke with my wife who on a good day can make me hurt – more than a bit. It’s a bond we have always shared since 2003 when she ripped my legs off on the way up this very climb, twice. I was 8+ minutes in arrears. Our times have more or less flipped since then since D does other things besides ride unlike my hopeless self, but when we pick that pace that falls between our abilities, and just ride up together, it’s one of my all time favorite rides.

Sunday brought out the boys ride. We started with five, and finished with three. 3.5 hours of flat-out killin’ it. Jesus – no warmup, just full throttle from the gun. Why?! The first guy to drop out was toasted cheese about 2.5 hours in - we got him on a safe fire road home, and the second guy had a legitimate mechanical unlike Andy ‘I can’t shift my bike’ Schleck. We dumped him at a nearby road where his wife could pick his ass up after puncturing his sidewall on Gumpy’s Gully - a XXX gnar gnar descent. 50% of what we rode was fresh cut singletrack that I had never ridden, and we climbed near the roof of AZ.

I wasn’t torched from either ride. Just a good tired feeling. That is a good sign. If I can add 45minutes to an hour of endurance at that pace, then this will be really fookin’ fun to compete in. Maybe even, dare I say, an epic ride? I hope not, because I don’t want it. I don’t want to see the White Minivan again anytime soon, but if it happens….well, I gotta’ chase.

holdin' on

2010-09-02T15:27:00.000-07:00

I can count on two hands, and maybe one foot, how many times I wake up nervous or am nervous at some point over the course of any given year. Our Annual Meeting for work in front of 50 shareholders always raises the hair on my neck, and part of the reason I race bikes is just so that I keep myself in that scared place every month or two. It’s good for me, or I get soft and complacent. The great businessman Harvey McKay said in his book Swimming with the Sharks: “It’s better to wake up scared than content”. I don’t think I could handle nervous/scared every day, but one thing I do know……… is the elation of getting past the point of nervousness/fear – it feels reallllly good and makes me crave more.

Last night surprised me a bit. I dropped my little big girl off at soccer practice, and went with AA to go hammer singletrack for an hour – making sure to get back for her scrimmage against the U10 boys team. The singletrack was outstanding, but the game….it blew me away. I sat comfortably watching for the first 5 minutes, then found myself standing and yelling out words of encouragement, followed by that feeling of watching your favorite pro team coming down the field in the 4th quarter to possibly win the game – the team that you’ve followed since you were old enough to understand the game. These girls were up 2-1 on the boys with 3 minutes left and I thought “holy shit, these girls can WIN this!” They did. The last 3 minutes were torture, and lasted what felt like 30. Lyza had some great moments, and some frustrating moments, but she was so jacked up from the win I practically had to tie her down to her bed at 9pm to go to sleep. She crashed 2 minutes after she hit the mattress.

Back to the singletrack – we hammered along the base of Mt. Elden on a very technical trail called forces of nature. It’ll keep you honest the second you get cocky. I was leading around a corner that was hard to see with tall grasses still hiding the back side, and had to pull a back and front brake lockup surf-move sideways right into a 2 foot tall wall of rock that I had no time to get my front wheel over….fortunately coming to a complete stop before going Superman OTB. AA came up and said ‘you didn’t miss that, did you?! Gotta love your MTB buddies, they make sure you know your place in this world.

Anyway - after the game, one of the other parents told me how they are on the edge of their seat for the games, and how they lose sleep over tournaments. Its 7:17pm and Lyza hasn’t even been home since 8am to work on homework or just to get some downtime. 3 nights a week. Is this the way it’s going to be until she goes to college? Damn – time to hang on for the ride.

2010-09-01T07:36:00.000-07:00

5:20am departure yesterday and although it was cold, that sharp cold that only comes from the change in season wasn't there. It didn' take long to warm up, and I just had a grand ol' time out there shreddin', climbin', and carvin'. Anytime I can get out before work is a great time. These days are shrinkin' fast and very soon it'll be a start time closer to 6:00am - which means I'll have to stay at work until 6pm. Give and take, peaks and valleys, and as Rob Wilbur said "roll with the punches"...whatever that meant. Somebody swingin' at me, I'm swingin' back.

I need some roadwork this weekend. Long mileage kinda thing. The October 2nd race deadline is now just a month away and I can go for 3 hours nice and fast, but I can't go for 5 hours at race pace. One more ramp up for the fall, and I'll be done until December - unless of course I get hooked on the CX bug.

Arizona cross is just hard to get stoked for. The first two races are in Flagstaff and have potential for CX weather. One race is in Phoenix under the lights - CrossVegas style minus the talented pro field, and thousands of spectators - so it's pretty much the same minus a few key components. But the other races are down south, with warm days and you couldn't find mud unless it's man-made.

Me thinks it's time to get back into a racquetball tourney. My racquet has been looking at me sullenly - play me, play me! It's be best way to kill someone without going to jail. Hmmm.

Rakin' Cash

2010-08-30T11:48:00.001-07:00

Seeing some of your own ‘qualities’ come to life in your kid is eye opening.

Lyza Bee had her first fundraiser for her U-10 girls soccer team yesterday. The plan, as explained by the team Mom, was to gather pledges – per lap – as the girls were to run laps around a soccer field for ½ hour. Lyza was given a form to track the name, amount, contact info ect.

Now the reason that nobody reading this blog has ever fielded a request from me for a donation/team in training/tour de cure is because I fookin’ hate asking people for money. I don’t mind being asked to donate, but I personally hate to ask for handouts.

So Lyza, possibly following in my footsteps, blew off my question about 11 times over the weekend - “Have you completed your donation form yet?” Thinking I’d give her a start, I called my Uncle and made him aware of the fundraiser to which he replied – “put me in for $25 flat – not per lap”. I said cool, and told Lyza on Friday night that Steve was giving her $25….figuring she wanted to raise $100 or so. She looked at me, smiled, and said “Dad, my goal is $30. I’ll throw a 5 in from my wallet and I’m good. Can I go play with Nate?” The following was then exchanged:

CB: “OK, but having me place one call for you, and you tossing in $5 from your wallet isn’t exactly fundraising”
LB: “But my goal is $30”
CB: “Fine, but you only have one donor, and you didn’t even ask for the money”
LB: “Yeah, but why ask a bunch of people for 50 cents a lap when I can get one person to give me $25?”
CB: “You didn’t get Steve to give you $25”
LB: “I have to run for a half hour Dad that’s the hard part of all this, so can you call Grandpa Juan, and Aunt Meg for me?”
CB: “I’ll call Meg, but you have to talk to her”
LB: “That’s OK. I’m OK with $30. I made my goal”

So, she showed up, ran her little body into the ground – 14 times around a soccer field, and raised $30. Some of the girls (read Soccer Moms) who took it a bit more seriously even had ‘performance based pledges’ where they got more $$ for running further. NFL style.

So, our shared view on fundraising is to never raise the bar too high, and just score one donor. It’s easier to collect pledges that way.

I just had to

2010-08-25T20:58:00.000-07:00

$580 cash out the door.

I had to.

I may never ride my road bike again.

So fookin' what, right?

CX time.

SS Style.

Hurk rike rage (tribute to big steve)

2010-08-24T10:28:00.000-07:00

48 hours after that local race on Saturday and I still feel sluggish and beat.

Right from the gun it was on, and the first 3.5 miles are on a relatively benign jeep road. The singlespeeders with 17’s and 18’s were pulling away, but I was OK with that since I knew what was ahead.

The turn onto the singletrack brought everyone back together. 5 of us picked our way through the switchbacks, and the technical funfest in a pretty efficient line. The problem was, I was out of my league a bit and was working too hard to stay with the crème de la crème. I’m more like 2% milk than the whipping cream at the top – but I wanted to hang since the long downhill back to the start line would be recovery time and I could then suck wheels across the flats. Howeva’, the physical effort led to a mental breakdown and I put my front tire into a rock, followed by hisssssssssssssssssssssssss.

I had CO2, and a quick change had me back on my bike in a few minutes. In that timespan, the lead group disappeared, and the back of the pack came whizzing by. Fuck fuck and more fuck. In a Hulk-like rage I went into chase mode, and caught and passed 4 dudes within two miles. On the long downhill back to the line I passed a teammate – Navajoel - but in my head I thought he was just another singlespeeder, so for the next two hours I was chasing what I thought was Navajoel…bit I was really chasing nobody in particular.

The rage took me all the way through the next 20 miles and as I came up to the line I pictured Navajoel there with a few crack-ass comments about beating me since that has never happened before. I crossed the line and….no Navajoel. I checked the time sheet, and saw he was 10+ minutes behind me after the 2nd lap. That Hulk-like rage was just that. I wasn’t seeing or thinking straight.

So, it’s taken a bit of decompressing to come down from that level of intensity. I should have known something was a bit off when I chose Kick Ass and Kill Bill Volume II as movies to watch over the weekend. Seems I was in a bit of a killing mode after that flat tire.

The Tour of the White Mountains is next on 10/2. The title makes it sound like just that, a casual tour. It’s not. It’s the last organized big scale event in AZ until December. 50% of me wants to ride it with teammates at a reasonable pace, stop at the aid stations, take some photos along the way, and enjoy the tour aspect. The other 50% of me wants to drill it and see what I can do. It seems as though the Hulk usually comes out as soon as the gun goes off, so I’m a gonna’ stop kidding myself right now and just show up prepared to race.

Race Day

2010-08-21T21:09:00.000-07:00

Local Race #3 of the year

The heat hurt me

30 miles hurt more

3:02 hurt the most, 5 minutes slower than 2008

"Mid Pack Mike" Finish

6th out of 12 singlespeeders

Gave it full gas

Dealt with a flat and coulda finished 4th

Shoulda coulda woulda....

I got nothin' left

60 miler in a month and a half

Best get to it

Bike rode like a dream

Good thing

'Cause I needed the help

School starts on Monday?

2010-08-20T15:59:00.000-07:00

The photos below of a Secret Adventure to Clear Creek….well, school starts Monday and that meant it was time for a Thursday blowout. I have to do this stuff with her. These adventures aren’t forgotten, and the cliff she jumped off of gets a little bit higher with each telling of the story. Each fish she never caught gets a bit bigger over time. And the hike out – by the time she’s 11 it’ll be the equivalent of hiking from the core of the earth to the top of Everest. She trusts everything I say out there….that bug won’t hurt you, you can jump from there and not touch the bottom, wear your shoes in the water instead of sandals because your feet are better protected. Total. Frickin’. Trust.
We did it right. Remote location, tricky descent, scary but safe cliff jumps, quiet time watching fish and crayfish, plenty of snacks, a hard hike out, loud tunes in the car followed by going out to eat and to ice cream after. Done yet – nahhh. A game of NCAA football on the X-Box at 10:30 at night. I put her to bed, and the words “I love you so much Dad” sent me to bed with permagrin.

4th grade starts Monday. I’m a bit sad, but also glad to see my little one so grown up and beaming with confidence. The good thing is, she had such a great time that I know we’ll be back 100 more times to places like this. The scope of the trip may change in the coming years with boys, makeup, sunbathing instead of cliff jumping, and who knows what else. What I do know, is that it’s a love of something we both share.