America Day

Ahhhh the 4th of July, perhaps the best holiday of the year. Its a day given over to racing hot crits, eating heaping mounds of grilled meat and blowing things up... all to glorify America. To make things even better I had a British house guest over the weekend! I swear I kept my taunting to a minimum, but I did make him wear this shirt. Let's just say some Brits can take disappointment better than others. James was his name, and he's a globe-trotting PhD candidate who also happens to race for the Team Type 1 Elite team. James is a type 1 diabetic and watching him deal with that while still racing his ass off was pretty inspirational. Incidentally, he lost his British license upon arriving on US soil and had to start over as a 5. I think he got his last points towards his 2 upgrade by winning the Big Creek Lumber Criterium on Monday so if fate should lend a hand perhaps I'll get a chance to talk some more shit to him about England face to face in a race somewhere down the line.

But back to the 4th. Part of what makes this an awesome day is that a centerpiece of the celebration in my adopted home of Davis is the downtown crit. I talk a fair amount of shit around town and I like to weave epic tales of bike-racery and pretend that I'm some kind of real cyclist. For the most part people have yet to catch on to the fact that I'm just a broke-ass amateur with a nice bike. With the exception of the start of one ToC stage people around here don't have a good frame of reference; I do in fact look pretty speedy compared to the hippies, old people and drunks commuting around town. The 4th of July crit is the one time the Davis riders have to shine so that all of the guys at the shop, all the drinking buddies and all the fine ladies can continue to believe the hype that we bike racers are forced to spew in order to justify our strange, spendexy existence. So of course I came down with an illness.

(Best photos ever, courtesy of Ronnie)

No, it wasn't a brilliant Bueller moment. I really was sick. Two days before the race I woke up with a headache, a sore throat and a bad cough and it got progressively worse until 5 laps to go in the crit at which point it got way, way worse quite quickly. I shouldn't have been racing, but Bosch wanted to win on his birthday (he's such a patriot that he pulled himself out of the womb on Independence Day all those years ago), and he and the guys have been such solid teammates all year that I wanted to give back a little. The road to hot, hot misery is paved with good intentions.

I got kitted up and rolled a bit to loosen the things up after two days in bed. The legs were surprisingly decent, but the fact that I had no voice and couldn't breath was pretty disconcerting. The no voice thing was more worrying than the inability to breathe; if you've ever raced an NCNCA crit you'll know that its quite common for a situation to arise in which you might need to give a little holler for self-preservation. To make a long story short I was completely useless most of the race, made one (stupid) attack and then my throat totally closed up. It was a bit terrifying. I think I now have a pretty good idea of what its like to be severely asthmatic and if I ever laughed at your inhaler I'm sorry. I tried to get back into the train to help out, but I was worthless and in the end it didn't matter. Patrick did a great job driving things up front and Brian, well, Brian did what he does best and went stupid fast for a few hundred meters. Ronnie got a nice photo of the finish and the most delusionally optimistic bike throw I've ever seen.

Afterward a bunch of cycling folk moseyed over to Mooney's house for a little BBQ and I spent a delightful afternoon eating, resting and trying to communicate by sign language. Keith Williams has a heart of gold. Not only did he give up most of his 4th to provide neutral support for the crit, but he kicked down some bucks and made Williams Cycling the official burger sponsor of our little cycling get-together. I just drifted off there and had the most amazing day-dream about a bike with 700c, SRAM compatible all beef patties for wheels. Mmmmmmm...

I'm feeling mostly better now and yesterday was my first real ride in almost 5 days. This was not the greatest time to get sick what with San Rafael, Lodi, Boise and Cascade right around the corner, but I guess I didn't have much of a say in the matter. Now I'm off to crush nuts (probably my own) at the Putah Creek TT hosted by Davis Wheelworks. The M&M of NorCal time trialing (Moore & Mooney) have been embarrassing people out on Putah Creek lately, so I'm going to go try to win on for the little guys, who happen to be the really big guys.

Star of the Weekend

So after more than one person told me that the last entry almost spoiled the internet for them I guess an apology is due. I didn't mean to be all mopey and down. If anything it was just a bit of self-reflection urged on by the Crow. And we all know what the Crow is capable of.

I'm all better now, and one of the things that's perked me up is knowing that Phil is the "Star of the Weekend", meaning his silly ass, replete with drooping frame number and silly shoes, is on display for all of cyclingdom on the Selle San Marco Website. Apparently they're so excited by Phil that just one picture simply will not do. Good show, chap, good show.

Hi-friggin-larious!

Well that's nats... and beyond.

Note: The photos today have little to do with the words, but I likes 'em.

I don't really know what to write about the whole Nationals experience. I went up there to win races and I didn't succeed in that. In fact, I feel like I blew the finishes of the crit and RR. But despite falling a little short (and catching a bunch of shit from the management for it) I feel like this trip to Bend was a really important experience for my growth as a cyclist.

Deschutes River (and chicks sunbathing on an air mattress)

I still learn a great deal every time I race and these Nationals were no different. Nothing drives home a lesson like a painful loss.
Race: Crit
Lesson 1: The dynamic nature of a bike race demands mental flexibility. I'd been thinking for hours, days and weeks about when and how I was going to come off of Bosch's wheel for the win. When Bosch got taken out in a late race crash I had trouble adjusting my strategy.
Lesson 2: Its better to use too much energy to get into winning position and have nothing left at the finish than it is to conserve so much energy that you miss your window and have a ton of gas left over. When we got swarmed with half a lap to go I should have kicked to be one of the first into turn 3. I didn't.

Team dinner. I got pulled pork, fries and disapproval.

Race: Road Race
Lesson 1: Having a strong support crew to keep you cool and hydrated is a tremendous advantage. We had awesome family and staff handing up bottles and ice and it kept us comfortable and fresh during all four hours in the hot sun.

Lesson 2: Having a strong, talented team makes all the difference. Tyler and Evan jumped in the early break and rode it as long as they could giving the YCT a free ride until they were brought back. This meant we could save our legs and watch as other teams, especially Exergy, ripped themselves to pieces trying to bring the break back.

Ice cream van stopped right in front of our house. That's a free pass.

Lesson 3: Its okay to be selfish/everyone is hurting at the end of a long race. When Jesse attacked on the final roller one other guy went with him Phil was right on it. The three opened a gap immediately and I sat up, not wanting to chase my teammate and expecting one of the dozen other guys to do the work. They didn't, and instead of cleaning up the sprint for 2nd I had to claw my way back to 5th. If I'm going to be a finisher I need to be there at the finish no matter what.
Lesson 4: When your teammates have confidence in you and are depending on you its possible to do incredible things. I'm not a climber and I got shelled on the climbs on the 4th lap last year. With one to go Adam told me he wasn't feeling up to it and he'd spend himself positioning me so I could have a shot at the finish. I was worried, but when the team leader says its on you you've got no choice but to nut up. Then after the steep pitch where the false flat seems to drag forever Phil yelled at me to "EAT SHIT, PARNES," which roughly translates to "HTFU." At right is a picture of what it feels like when I climb. Its not what I was born to do, but having the guys that you race with and respect demanding nothing short of your best is pretty damn motivating. I guess lesson 4 is "Have awesome teammates who believe in you." I'm lucky I can check that one off.

So no, I didn't win. I was, however, consistent and I showed some damn promising improvement (ITT: from 32nd 4 min down to 9th, 1 min down and less than 30 seconds off of third, RR: from 35th to 5th). The takeaway message is that I'm getting stronger and I think when my head catches up to my legs good things are gonna happen.

In other news, Bend is one of my favorite places in the world. The combination of natural beauty, an active and social small town and a riotous group of great people makes Bend a truly special place. I've only visited a couple of times, but each one has left me completely enchanted with the town and its inhabitants. I'm pretty sure I'd move there if the roads weren't covered in snow all winter.



The Wolfman doing what he does best.