An Ode To the Master

My cycling career began one day sitting on the porch in front of an aged loft in Topeka, KS. I swam throughout college and when my eligibility expired I was left in the midst of a quarter life crisis. I had swum for close to 20 years by that point. I was even thinking about going beyond college to try for a spot on a national team. I was a much better long course swimmer than I ever was in short course and I had found a great home in Ft. Lauderdale with an excellent coach.

When everything went sideways in my life in the Spring of 2001 I was lost. The athletic department at Kansas decided to cut both the men's swimming and tennis programs at the same time. I was devastated. I mounted a campaign to right the wrong and invested all my time and energy into undoing the injustice that I felt had occurred. When it was all said and done I was burned out of the idea of swimming and was out of shape and there was no coming back in time to compete that Summer.



So I bought a bike. No real good reason why I bought a bike. However, I went out the very first day on my new bike in a black pair of shorts and a white t-shirt. I spent that Summer getting my legs into shape and learning all about bike racing. I was obsessed. I read every magazine I could and watched every movie ever made about cycling...all three. I signed up for Downers Grove as a Cat 5. Downers Grove is the national championship crit...not at the Cat 5 level but it's a big race none the less. So all of the area Cat 5s were gunning for it and this was my first race.



It rained that morning and the course is terrible in the rain. A set of concrete brick crosswalks in the middle of corners otherwise made of asphalt which turns the course into ice when wet. I went down twice in a 20 minute race. Once in the final corner in which I sled out and landed head first into a hay bale. Amazingly I got back up on a bike two days later.



In the process of crashing my bike that day I put a nasty dent into my wheel set. I needed to get that fixed but I knew nothing of bike shops in Kansas which was where I was heading. I somehow got in touch with the KU Cycling Club and a man named Jed got back to me. The next thing I knew this monster of a mountain man from New Mexico by way of Montana and Topeka was showing me the roads around Topeka and dropping me like nobody's business on an easy training ride.



So there we sat, Jed and I, on his porch talking about bike racing. It was from that day that I knew bike racing was something a world apart. The rest is somewhat a short history. I feel that it's ironic that on many of my training rides I pass this site:

I once tried to send Jed a pix of a stuffed moose and he responded to me saying: "My name is Jed. I live in South Carolina. I have a hound dog named Red. What makes you think my phone can receive pictures?"

So, as I get ready to go and race at Downers Grove for the first time since meeting this mountain man I reflect on how much we all need him back in the sport...come back Jed we need you.

Mane 'n Tail

A rather large supporter of mine gave me a gift recently. My workouts are whooping my butt and have left me with some pretty tired and sore legs. In fact sometimes it's been a little rough getting into and out of my car. However that's bike racing, right? Riding until your legs are about ready to blow up?

I remember one particularly windy Sunday morning back in Lawrence. The group was coming back into town from Tonganoxie on a flat stretch of road. I've always fancied myself a break-away rider. I'm not really the best in the field sprint and thought, in fact still think, that if I can get up the rode I can hold off the field just long enough to stick it for a win. I drove Adam and Ben nuts with theories and strategies of how to create a successful breakaway. They might have even thought I could do it someday. Then I would do something stupid like crash on a group ride and all my street cred was gone.

This grey early spring day in Kansas was no exception. The group kept ramping the pace up little bits at a time. Adam was in the pace line with me along with most of the big guys in town. One at a time the field got smaller as guys popped off the back. My head was down and my vision was definitely getting a little redder as I went into oxygen debt. Just when I thought I was going to blow up, Adam jumped the field for the city limit sprint. From somewhere deep down inside I found the last bit of effort to cover the jump and found his wheel.

A minute or two later he looked back at me and shouted, "Rob, look back...that's how you make a successful breakaway." I looked back and we were free and clear from the field and they were nowhere in sight. I learned my lesson that day. If you're going to go out on your own to win a race you're going to need to put yourself through serious hell.

I've been putting myself through the ringer these last couple of months to get to where I need to be and my legs have suffered. Needless to say I've woken up many mornings lately in a bit of pain, which brings me back to my gift. When given to me I was told that it wasn't made for cyclists but it really works on tired legs...well tired horse legs. I was given a jar of Mane 'n Tail which is Icy Hot for horses. So I tried a little tonight for the first time. I put it on my legs about two hours ago. It took a little while to feel it but my legs have been on fire now for two hours. Seriously thinking of just sticking them in the freezer right now.

I mean the stuff has to be working right? At least I don't feel the soreness any more.

Fly New Kicks

I was thinking back on my training this season and came to the conclusion that I cannot recall the last time my form developed quite as quickly or as sharply. In May of this year I was nowhere. My form was gone and my desire was less. Blame it trial in New Orleans, cold weather or my lack of enthusiasm to put in the miles and the effort needed at the time. However, somewhere along the line everything clicked again and my focus returned.

The problem is that I appear to have gone and broken myself, temporarily. My knee has slowly started giving me troubles over the past couple of days. It culminated on Saturday with pain so deep that I almost wanted to cry. However, following strictly the Topeka Rules of Cycling, I banished that thought from my mind as I would have clearly gotten my butt kicked when I voyage there later this Summer. Coach Adam and I have been working on figuring out what the problem is that caused my pain. However, in an effort to be good to myself and in the hope that money can buy happiness, I went out and bought a new pair of Time RS Carbon shoes. Now I'm officially super fly.

I had rode the greatest pair of shoes, Specialized Road Pro Carbons, for a long time. They actually replaced my original shoes which were hideous Italian made mistakes. I remember the day in Tuscaloosa that those shoes finally died. I was getting ready for a ride and went to pull on one of the straps and the whole damn thing just came off in my hand. In order to do a short ride that day I actually ended up getting a roll of packing tape and wrapping my entire shoe thick enough to hold my foot in the pedal.

Well my fancy new Time shoes have made me happy. They match the team kit (red/white/black) because everyone knows it's not necessarily how fast you are but how fast you look. They also are really comfortable and allow me to feel the pedals. I'm just going to have to figure out how to fix my brokeness first before the last races scheduled for the end of August.

Turn Left and Go Fast: Hunny Bop Crit

To date I have not been offered a spot with Denny Hamlin's No. 11 FedEx Toyota team. That's ok by me. I'm sure they are just waiting for next year to offer me a spot in NASCar as I am sure it would be very intimidating for me to roll up at Daytona next year on my Cannondale for my debut.

In order to prove that I am fast and have skills in turning left, I attended the Hunny Bop crit this weekend. The naming of a bike race is truly an art form, especially since they shift around in the calendar so much. I cannot count the number of Bunny Hop or Turkey Trot races which are actually held nowhere close to Easter or Thanksgiving. Thankfully the promoters of the Hunny Bop realized this and renamed their race.

The scene was set: 50 riders, 75 minutes, 100 degrees. The race was pleasant simple and easy...then we hit the first corner and that all changed. It was a wide open crit with plenty of room to move around and no need to hit your brakes through the corners. A flurry of attacks went up the road quick but nothing stayed away for very long. At about the 30 minute mark a strong break emerged with one of my teammates in it and the pace slowed just a bit, which was fortunate because I'm pretty sure we were about to go to plaid.

The break got about 30 seconds on the field and I thought it was gone. Then suddenly the gap came down...28 seconds...25 seconds...8 seconds...caught. The field ramped the pace back up and the attacks started all over again. I covered a jump and lit about every match I had. Right as I was about to snap I looked up and the guy sat up. I licked all my wounds and slid back into the field and the safety of the draft.

With about 5 to go I found myself in 6th wheel with my head down, in the drops, on the tip of the saddle and my vision going to red. I'm only hoping that there was at least one guy behind me who was having half the trouble I was with the pace. I stayed there for about a lap when the pace let up just enough for the leading train to get swallowed up by the advancing field. Cracked in two and with a teammate in a good spot for the sprint, I rolled in with the field and counted it a solid day of racing.

MABRA Crit Championship: Exploring Scenic Hagerstown

Saturday saw another 14 minutes of anaerobic racing smashed in the middle of an hour long crit. It was a good course with a little bit of technical thrown into a hammer fest. Turn two was over 90 degrees and it came off a little twist of the road in the opposite direction you might want to drive your bike. A pair of crashes in that corner testified to exactly how quick things can get out of control.

The first 15 minutes of the race reminded me of that time that I hated life. I started in the back of the field because . . . I don't know that's where I have a tendency of starting when I cannot get into my pedals and feel like a Cat 5. Just as I was about to think of hitting the pool for a afternoon of suntanning, a hole opened up and I rode straight up to the front of the field. Once I was there life was a heck of a lot easier.

A big 'ol crash happened on the flat finishing straight two inches in front of me. Somehow I rode around flaying arms, wheels, water bottles and bodies. A quick compliment from a fellow bike race and we were off again. Somehow a field of 50 shrunk quickly to 35. With about six to go I rolled off the front and got about 20 meters on the field. I took a peak down at the PowerTap and made a quick calculation abut how long I could hold my wattage. However, in the time it took to do that math the field swallowed me up.

I regrouped and prepared for another assault with about 2 or 3 to go because I was bound and determined not to be in the field if it came to a field sprint as my positioning this year has just been off. Sadly, at 3 to go we were strung out single file and it stayed there till the very end. As has been my habit this year I was way off target in my position and just rolled in with the field.

A couple good lessons came out of this race. I shouldn't be afraid of seeing power numbers over 500 watts because I can hold that and repeat that effort. It's always better at the front of the field. And, it's about time that I start finding ways to get in better position and take advantage of my form that looks like it is slowly coming into its own.

Sweet Home Chicago

I was able to go home twice within the last two weeks. It was great to see Mom and Dad and to have some decent pizza. I've missed being home but haven't missed the craziness that is Chicago traffic. Mayor Daley, in his infinite genius has put palm trees on the Oak St. beach.

That's literally a palm tree in front of The Drake hotel and the John Hancock building. I've spent a lot of time staying at The Drake which is just a great hotel. The rooms are huge and very plush. I mean you literally fall into the beds which is such a good feeling. My legs have been absolutely murdered these last couple of weeks.

Coach Adam and I have been trying to improve my crit riding ability and my power coming off the corners. At the crit in Tour of Washington I was putting out over 600 watts once a lap and that ate away at my legs (not to mention the random ambulance that was outside of the corner for half the race). This weekend is the MABRA Crit Championships and we'll see if my power has improved.

I feel that it's become a lot easier to put up bigger numbers repetitively and I'm hoping that it shows this weekend. When I first started training with a PowerTap I was impressed to see a number over 1000. I thought that it was crazy but now I hit those numbers two or three times a day during my normal workouts. I'll have to really open it up some day and see what my top number is now.

DC Cycling Has Been Invaded...

...by bike riding Fred's like this dude and to me they are known as the Klingons. You guys know who you are. Yes you, the dude who wears his Primal Fear kit and the clip on aero bars on your insanely expensive Trek that you have no business owning. The same guy who hits Rock Creek Park like it's stage three of Le Tour and sucks my wheel while I'm heading out of the park like I'm on Cipo's lead-out train of old.


Seriously dude, I don't know you. I didn't set out to ride with you. I don't want to ride with you. You are literally just the guy I passed right before a stop light and you should disappear just as quickly. What's sad and worse is that honestly I fear that the klingon gets some kind of Saturday-morning-world-championship joy out of riding my wheel.

If your goal is ride with me to prove your fredhood, why don't you try riding the next 60 miles with me. You know the one's I do after I leave you in the park. Don't worry, I know you're probably confused by a lot of this so I went online and ordered a book on how to speak klingon and I am listening to audio tapes so in the future I can say get dropped in your native language.

Hill with a Chapel, North Cackalacky

I always attempt to pay great attention to detail, so in titling this post I sought out sources for the correct spelling of Cackalacky. I consulted the internet's more reliable sources including ghettodictionary.com but eventually settled on the spelling above from wikipedia. A side-note, wikipedia should never be used in Court as a source for anything.

Let's not kid ourselves, Chapel Hill has legit riding. I spent the last half of the week in the carolina blue paradise that is UNC. As it is less than a 5 hour drive and only about a 1 hour flight I opted for the former and brought the bike with me. I wish there was some mathematical formula that would indicate when I should fly somewhere or when I should drive there. Some formula which says that the aggrevation of going to the airport, getting through security, waiting for the flight, dealing with annoying passengers and trying to leave the airport equals X number of hours of driving. So all you would do is add that total to the flight time and see which is shorter.

Something strange about NC roads. Not sure how it happens but all of a sudden they have a habit of turning to gravel for a short distance and then right back to beautiful pavement. Riding there really reminded me of the roads back in Jackson. The hills weren't that bad and the terrain was full of tall pine and small farms. There however seems to be an obsession with naming things boro: carrboro, tarboro, greensboro, hillsborough, etc...

After riding I hit up Spanky's and the Carolina Brewery, two local establishments. The former had a great burger and the latter had a pretty decent selection of beverages. I became intwined in a conversation with a New Zealander about sports and hush puppies. He had never heard of a hush puppy before and was confused about what it was. He didn't seem all that impressed with our explanation either. The bartender, a guy from Boston who does a local radio show, joined in and tried to explain. Looking back on that I see the irony of two guys not from the South trying to explain to someone not from America what a Southern staple is. No doubt it probably left him perplexed and heading for the nearest airport back down under.

All this time at UNC got me thinkng about the old days back on Mt. Oread. I decided while taking pictures around campus that I would pack up the soon to be new car and head on out to Lawrence for some much needed R&R and to get back to my roots. So in August I'm point the car west and rolling down 'ol 70. I'm not coming back until I'm satisfied. Or I run out of annual leave.

Rocky Mountain High: Cycling in the West Part 1

After returning from a whirlwind adventure of bike racing, weddings and other things that often times leave me with that awstruck look of the white elephant sticker that Adam Mills and Ben Coles once put on my helmet I am ready to recount the events of the last month. My dearest friend Smiff-dog:

was recently wed. I voyaged out to the land of Pikes Peak for my first tour of the "inter-mountain west." The first day I arrived in C-Springs it was 70 degrees. The next morning it snowed:

However, undaunted I put on what warm cycling clothes I had and rode into the mountains (keep in mind the next leg on my tour was LA). These were my first rides with the new power tap. I can imagine only that the results might be a little skewed by the lack of any air at all in Colorado. I think I saw a lot of mph that were less than 10 as I ascended roads that back home should normally gave me no pause...and likely at this time of year a sun tan.

I am bound and determined this year to get down to climbing weight for my assaults up Middlebury and Appalachian Gaps. I am returning to Vermont to conquer the latter climb which destroyed my legs and made me rethink giving up pools and Ft. Lauderdale for a bike and the open random road. Labor Day Weekend, which is strangely not that far away, will be my final racing weekend of the season. I have decided to try my hand at the Green Mountain Stage Race which goes over the same climbs that I did my senior year of college at cycling nationals. Amazingly what cracked me that day wasn't the two tall climbs but a smaller wall of a climb which shredded the field.

However my excursion to Colorado was not without its share of shenanigans:

It is a pleasure to see the greatest among equals that is Brian Michael "Knight" Murphy. As you can tell time has not changed the myth of this man. He still is a giant who lives with us. An unequaled master of his domain. And still the only man in this world that I know who is loved so very much by women twice his size.

Car Shopping

The other night I started the final step in the process of replacing my aging yet wonderful Pontiac. The old car has performed so well for so long. Who cares that the windows stopped working or that the a/c ran out of juice or that the transmission slips anytime you step on the gas too hard. These are all just luxuries.

Princess Lillian joined me in my car buying escapade. We went up to the local Volkswagen dealership because I've had a long running crush on the German automaker's products. We made it there shortly after 7PM about an hour from closing and were greeted by a cheery and young salesman who was eager to show us around.

Young Salesman, making an assumption that Princess and I were a couple, started making comments about "our" purchase. The comments were enhanced when he came to learn that she owns a Jetta. When he found that out he said that we could buy "his and her" Jettas. Neither Princess nor I wanted to correct him because we figured he would just get embarrassed and feel dumb. We exchanged knowing glances but let it pass.

After our tour of the lot we went inside the dealership to start talking money. Lill's job that night was to not let me buy a car, this task she performed well. She also had intended to remain virtually silent but this she did until it burst in her. Channeling her mother and mine, she began asking questions about safety features. She beat Young Salesman about the head with questions of airbags and crumple zones until he almost could not handle it. Having satisfied her born-on-the-bayou urges she relaxed into an observer role.

Young salesman began his harder sell and the comments about "our relationship" grew more obvert. I'm guessing it didn't help/hurt the situation that Princess wears a ring on her left hand that could (in the right dim light) look like a wedding band.

Incentives started to be discussed-- recent college grad, good credit, having a good hair day etc... , then Young Salesman got to owner loyalty. I've driven a GM car since the turn of the century, so I was out. But Princess is a Jetta owner and he was about to use that leverage. When he asked us if "we atleast live together" you could see her face get red and terror in her eyes of "out of wed-lock what would my grandmother think?"

I thought about playing this game out to the end and seeing how much owner loyalty would get me; but then I started to think of how I was going to prove that her and I lived together...because we clearly don't. On top that Princess hates public displays of affection and I'm sure this would top the list. Therefore, I had to explain to him that weren't married or dating. The look on Young Salesman's face was priceless. Sadly, one can only have that kind of fun so many times. I wonder how much I can get that car for now?

Cajun Seasoning-- Riding in the Big Easy

By invitation of a federal judge and necessity of my employment, I recently had the opportunity to spend eleven days in the Crescent City. I've been to New Orleans a number of times over the past two years and a couple times before the storm, but this time I brought my bike with me. I had been forewarned that New Orleans left a lot to be desired when it comes to variety of places to ride but was determined to make it work.



The first day in town, I road down a local bike shop and asked the folks there for suggestions on place to ride and they gave me just one-- the levee. Ok, in reality they gave me two suggestions, the levee and the Natchez Trace. However, since I didn't want to drive a hundred and fifty miles into Mississippi for a daily training ride, I opted for the levee.

New Orleans has a great river levee that runs for about twenty miles from downtown up the river. It's bone flat, overly exposed and curves back and forth. As the levee curves you go from headwind to tailwind and back again. You're speed literally changes from 15 mph to 30 mph in the course of half a mile. The river was high this time of year. It was a good five to ten feet above the level of the homes on the other side of the levee. Something about that just unnerved me.

I was amazed by how flat the city really is. The biggest elevation change was a pothole on St. Charles Ave. Riding on the levee you get a great view of the passing ships up and down the Mississippi River. They are huge vessels, some as long as a couple football fields.

I took the opportunity to have my own American Flyers moment. I spotted a large Greek vessel a couple hundred meters, a headwind and gave him the current in his favor (because I believe in a fair fight). Then I went to work on him. He was no match for my speed. It took me about five miles but I took him and his steam powered engine down. It was like my own personal tribute to Casey Jones and the battle of man versus machine. And in the case man won.

Feeling a little high on my fitness right now, the question for me now is who's next:

That's right Denny Hamlin. You and the No. 11 FedEx Toyota are going down. Just you wait till Richmond in a couple weeks. When you look in your review mirror it's gonna be me and my NCVC Cannondale CAAD 9 bump drafting you all the way through the final corner. When I get down in the drops you've got no chance. (P.S. FedEx please sponsor me-- I'm fast)

The Saga Continues

For reasons that escape belief, I have been given a driver's license, a USCF license and license to practice law. The first one I rarely use. The second one I use every weekend. The third one I use daily and it pays the bills that the second one incurs. This blog is my continuing journey from obscure town to obscure town, roadway to roadway and sometimes from emergency room to emergency room in pursuit of illusive cycling glory.

I have the rare fortune of having a bike, a bike box (thanks Taylor) and a camera (thanks Mom and Dad). I have also been blessed with a job that sends me from the Atlantic to the Pacific and all places inbetween. Put the lot of them together and I'm hoping that it makes for some stories and a few good pictures.

Aren't we in Need of a Wow

I swang by the protest on the National Mall yesterday not to lend my voice to a cause but to experience it. It was a hodge podge of causes and events. People milling about protesting whatever cause they felt like protesting with only the consensus that they weren't happy with what was going on in the world and felt like raising their voices.

I'm not sure how many folks were down there. The official count was 50,000 but all of them weren't there when I was there. I rode around trying to find the focus, the center of this mini-universe, but could only find the masses. I guess in the end I was slightly unimpressed.

This leads me to the title line, aren't we in need of a wow? By that I mean aren't we supposed to be impressed with something? Impressed by our leaders, the events in our lives and the people we put faith in. Too often being ok is confused for mediocrity and that is genuinely dangerous. Mediocrity is a term that means nothing to me. It is the absence of feeling, a total sense of numbness.

Numbness is only ok if you intend on avoiding pleasure and pain-- if you intend on doing nothing except living and dying. I cannot tolerate a lack of motion, a lack of passion or a lack of feeling. I am as guilty as the rest in that sometimes I make my decisions based on avoiding pain or discomfort. However, in the moment, making a decision based on what will be the least painful is making a decision to do nothing. Risk something and you might be rewarded, risk nothing and you'll never be disapointed because you'll have nothing. For me, I'll take the former.

The Post Express

In an effort to stay in front of the curve, or better put, to desperately seek to stay "hip" in the DC scene, I've started reading the Post Express everyday. The Express is the free version of the Washington Post that is available at just about every bus stop and metro station in greater DC. It's phenomenal because it gives you the headline news version of the top events of the day. I supplement it with CNN, SI and Drudge at lunch and then I know what's going on in the world or at least I can pretend like I do which is more important than anything else.

It typically takes me the whole ride in on the bus to read most of the stories in the Express, minus the lifestyle section because frankly I could honestly care less about women's fashion, crappy local bands, and what was today's topic--oh yeah the "slim suit." I don't even know what that is, but I'm sure it was terrible. The last couple of pages are the human interest stories and celebrity gossip. That section gets read when I hit the last two stops before mine and I'm always left with the same thought...who cares about celebrities?

The Express is top quality because the headlines for the one or two paragraph blurbs about Justin, Nicole or Paris are always a touch condescending and normally pretty damn funny. The fact remains . . . why do these people even deserve one or two paragraphs? I struggle to find one thing that 99% of celebrities do to provide value to anyone's life. There are exceptions but for the large part the only thing a celebrity does that makes them interesting to me is act or perform. It's just a shame that all the junk that ends up in the newspapers and on tv has nothing to do with their acting or performing and everything to do with the rest of the train wreck they call their lives (i.e. that Lindsay chick who has been in-and-out of rehab).

I think if we paid as much attention to the in-work lives of our elected officials and decisionmakers as we did to the out-of-work lives of irrelevant celebrities there would be a heck of a lot more accountability for bad or poor decisions. But why should we worry about the economy, foreign policy and other pertinent social issues when we can spend our time worrying about who said what on Grey's Anatomy?

Ice It's the New Gravel

Something is inherently wrong with me, I know this in my heart and many people have told such. It snowed in DCland this past weekend. C-Dog and I were out there on Sunday for two hours in 26 degrees, just long enough for us to hit the first flurries and for our water bottles to freeze. Then on Tuesday, after the streets were supposed to be cleared and I was convinced that there would be work to go to, I returned to my outdoor riding plan. Little did I know that despite the 35 degree high of the day before, there was still snow and ice left on the ground.

Why there was snow or ice befuddles me. The DC area only got hit with maybe 1/10th of an inch of snow, but the rules of the world change once you cross into Maryland (where my rides often take me). It's true, and other's likely would agree with me, that once you enter into Maryland everything changes. In Maryland, I've crossed paths with foxes that talk to me and inform me of upcoming traffic and deer that suggest an alternate route. Also, in Maryland the rules of physic don't apply freezing happens at a different temperature and a full and the brakes on cars don't work while the horns do. I don't try to understand it, I just accept it.

Needless to say the snow and ice were an unwelcome surprise. It reminded me of the days back in Kansas where gravel road riding was the only way to go. For us Kansans it's not that we chose to ride gravel roads it was just that we didn't have any other options. Thankfully, I have been trained for all types of road conditions.

There was a race not to long ago where I found myself passing in the gravel on the side of the road. The part that shocked me was not that I was doing it but that others were impressed by that fact. I'm guessing from now on I'll have to pass in the snow too.

On Saturday (in two days) there is going to be a "Vietnam-era sized" protest on the National Mall. Now, I'm not much into talking about the merits of the protest, but I will of course have to end my morning ride with a tour of the Mall. I think that it should be a new rule that whenever presented with a "Vietnam-era sized" protest all rides should end with a tour of said protest. Hopefully this one won't have the same level of anti-climax as the million man march.

Now it's too Damn Cold to Ride

I fight the impulse to stay in bed on many a morning and then I fight the impulse to just ride the trainer inside rather than voyage out into the cold world of pre-dawn life. This morning the impulse to stay inside won out. I pulled up on the temperature this morning and it read 28 in the District with 18 out in the suburbs. I decided that was just a little too cold for me to ride.

In Kansas we had the Tilford-Topeka-cold-weather-riding rules. When the temperature dips below 32 degrees you are to ride only 1 mile per degree. So if it's 30 degrees you do 30 miles. However, at some point in time it just becomes stupid to get all dressed for the cold and ride for only a few miles. I figure that point is somewhere around the point where it takes as long to get dressed for the ride as it does to ride the ride.

I know some may think I'm a pansy for following this rule, but I was told never to argue with the Tilford-Topeka rules. I do break them on occassion, like when I was in Chicago for Christmases past and rode in 20 degree weather for 40 miles or until my left foot freezes. However, in the pre-dawn world I'm not going to fight against the rules. It just seems like it's colder when there is no sun out, 25 degrees is just a lot colder at dawn than it is at noon.

So I've labored to create my own personal local rules based on the aforementioned ones. Therefore, the local DC rules are as follows. During daylight rides I will ride until my foot freezes. After it freezes I'll turn around and ride tempo home. However, during pre-dawn rides the rule is that the 2 hour 15 minute daily ride will be standard until the temps dip below 30 degrees. At 29 degrees I will stay inside and ride the trainer, as much as I hate it. If it dips below 15 degrees I'm not going anywhere and that includes to work. If it is below 0 degrees I'm not even getting out of bed.

Wind chill does not count. Wind chill is the weak man's way of saying it's colder than it actually is. For anyone who disagrees with me try living in Chicago for a winter.

On This Occassion

It's the start of a whole new year, which is even better than the start of a new week. Thank God that New Year's Eve has now passed. Slowly, I'm getting a sense that Jan. 2 is a much better holiday than the others. If for no other reason than suddenly the pressure to make the proceedings days the "best days of the year" is gone.

I recently received the pleasure of the beloved LullaBelle. Lulla serves to remind me of the pleasures of slowing down one's life to the point where you can actually enjoy the joy of taking a deep breadth. I spend most of my day hustling to and fro from one file to another spending minimal time on each task yet endeavoring to obtain maximal output. This of course is an impossibility, just as trying to get wireless service free from my neighbors.

So much rides on the moment to moment existence that I don't pause enough to enjoy the overarching joys of Lulla's company or anyone else's company as a matter of fact. I think that my resolution this year should be about this: don't try to make each moment great or filled with meaning, but rather enjoy each moment for what it is. There is nothing special about one Saturday night over one Tuesday afternoon. They all have the opportunity of being the best of our lives. Take pleasures when and where they come.

I resolve to enjoy the life that I have and not the life that I imagine I should have because someone on tv tells me that I should. What is your resolution?

My Favorite Poem

[IF]

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!
--Rudyard Kipling

Nite Riddin' Part II

I planned on doing an hour and half of riding this morning and didn't want to take the usual trip down McArthur Blvd, so I changed venue to the Rock Creek Park. Normally I leave the park for weekend rides or on the way back in, but this morning I thought I'd be adventurous.

I've been riding in the early morning hours for about a year or so but never have I been in such a dark place before. The park is in a ravine with cliffs on either side of it. It's like the countryside except it's in the middle of DC. It was just an area of the city where they couldn't build houses because the terrain was too steep so they turned it into a twisty and turning road that is closed to traffic some days of the week.

The natural lay of the land and the tall trees block out most of the light coming from the city, so it's pitch black most evenings. This morning was no exception. Even my helmet-mounted little lights were no match to the darkness. I'm sure it didn't hurt that I have taken to wearing orange tinted glasses for these rides. I tried going without sunglasses but ended up getting little pieces of junk in my eyes quite often that were annoying so I adopted the orange glasses.

It was an amazing ride, through this darkness. I'm looking back on it as if it was a dream. I might not have been too awake at the time so it could have been one. I'm looking for to the end of daylight savings time now and the reemergence of the sun for my rides. I typically ride for about an hour before sunrise. I'd like to get that changed so that I can go without the helmet light for a little while. Plus, it's darn cold at that time with the sun.

Curious thought of the day: Do we speak truth to power more often than power speaks to truth?

No I don't Want to Ride With YOU

This is my view on the order of priority of those people allowed on the roadways, each category has a quota and only if the category does not use it's quota would the next group have a chance to put some people on to the roads:

1. cyclists
2. pedestrians
3. buses drinking hardworking people to and from work
4. rollerbladers
5. people driving to and from work
6. everyone else except for soccer moms
7. buses in general
8. soccer moms
9. trucks
10. cabbies

The last group should never be allowed to be on the roadways unless its late at night and people need to get home from bars in my neighborhood then they'll magically appear and take you home. Otherwise, they are not allowed.

Travel Bug

The last few days have been an interesting mix of interesting. What does that mean? I have no idea but sounded good in my head. I walked home from the metro a different way today, through the little dog park by my house. However, that's not what I was referring to. They (the powers that be) warned me that my section of the Dept of Justice travels more than any other section. . . I didn't believe them but now I know it's going to be true. My world tour for the next month is as follows:

Nov 8-11: Honolulu, HI
Nov 15-16: Troy, NY
Thanksgiving: Mom and Dad are coming here
Nov 27-28: Miami, FL
Dec. 4-8: Columbia, SC

Not bad for the frequent flyer miles huh? I'm thinking if I rack up enough of them I'll go some place warm and sunny. Maybe Detriot, MI. Ok, I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy, which right now are St. Louis Cardinal's Fans.

A new book of music arrived this week. I picked up a copy of sheet music for Dierks Bentley's CD "Modern Day Drifter." I'm going to figure out this thing one way or the other. It's one of those guitar/piano/vocal books, so the guitar chords are written small and above the vocal's treble, or at least that's what I think, tell me if I'm wrong Papa Smurf. I think I can actually play a few bar chords, look at me with the F and Dsus chords going on now. The tips of my fingers are numb from playing so I'll take a break from the excitement.

Wow how random are these thoughts.

In Defense of Byram

Having lived for a year in one of the most treasured spots of the South, I must rush to its defense. When I told my parents that I was going to move into an apartment in Byram, MS they were at first confused. Largely because the entire community was the size of my dormitory at KU and secondly because no one in my family had ever heard of it before. I think the latter is a result of the former but that's neither here nor there. After visiting Byram, my Mom remarked..."well atleast it's not Pearl."

After living in the metropolis of Byram, the bourgeoning burg if you may, I grew to love it. Everyone talks about Madison and Ridgeland and Brandon but no one gives Byram the credit its due. Therefore, as of today I am beginning the campaign to get Byram listed as one of the top ten towns in the United States. That's right, you better watch out Naperville...Byram is coming after you.

Growing up in the aforementioned Naperville, IL (currently the number two place to live in the US) I know a thing or two about what makes a city a great place to live. First things first, Byram needs to make a few modest improvments. I'd say start with turning the Jackson Dragway into the Byram Motor Speedway and hold a NASCar race there once a season would get Byram on the map. Second, someone has to bulldoze the trailers by the Pearl River in order to make way for the San Antonio-style (or Naperville-style if you may) Riverwalk complete with 5-star hotels and restuarants.

All these capital improvements will undoubtedly bring in big business, but Byram needs to stay close to its roots--the small town culture and easy lifestyle that makes it Mississippi's diamond in the rough. After the new ivy-league level college is built on the bluffs overlooking Lake Dockery, there needs to be area retained for just green space. A place for families to go to on a Sunday afternoon and picnic or fly kites. That's why I propose leveling the town of Jackson and returning it to the rolling hills and meadows that it once was.

All these things for starters should help to realize my dream. The aforementioned was just slightly satirical.

Caught in the Endless Hell of the Voice Mail Jungle

Probably the most annoying aspect of the modern world is the automated call directory. You know the one I'm talking about, the press 1 for this, 2 for that and eventually you need to give up and just press zero repetitively. I tried this trick recently and to my horror the creators had found a way to confound me even further. They replaced the zero feature on their answering system with a repeat key. So each time I pressed zero it just repeated the bloody message. I pressed zero so many times that the system eventually hung up on me.

So there I was pissed with no one to yell at except for the answering system which I am apparantly unable to crack. Finally, I got someone on the line. I tried to explain to this fine example of failed education that I was a government attorney authorized to practice in his Court but that the filing system was not allowing me to do so. He was so confused by my answers that I am not in the system, no I'm not licensed in his State, but that I was really a lawyer and yes the United States Attorney General did deem it fit that I practice before his Court.

Alas, he passed me on to another person and a new system of voice messages. I left a message for a new and hopefully more intelligent human being but I doubt I'll ever hear from them regarding this and will eventually find myself right back in the same tangled web of messages and options. Technology was supposed to make life more efficient, but I see this example of technology just makes the people we actually talk to on the phone dumber.

We Could be Heroes

Two months after arriving in the nations capital city I have caught my breath long enough to realize that it's been two months. In two months I have deposed a stripper, taken a boat ride on the Hudson, interviewed a law enforcement officer overlooking a bay in the Keys and talked opposing counsel into dismissing my client from an action.

This is not to mention the countless federal tax dollars I have spent on tasks that I can no longer justify to even myself. However, I'm healthy, happy and all around in good spirits, despite the two-time failure of my furniture company to deliver a couch I ordered in August. However, you know what they say-- third time is the charm.

DC is how I remember it was, for the most part. A lot has changed but the White House is still in the same place and DuPont Circle is impossible to navigate in anything but by bike. I just filled my gas tank up for the first time in two months, which utterly depressed me. I love public transportation, where else in the world can you get to see the wonders of modern society but please don't forget to bring a book as your fellow travellers are not comfortable with you staring at them.

My neighborhood is the greatest place in the world. There is so much life, color, noise, music etc... I never imagined such a vibrant place. I want to take it all in all the time, but sadly I have to go to work sometime. DC is home.

Nashville Star 2

I told you all that I was serious, now I can prove it:

Thanks to Papa Smurf's instructions (thank you by the way) I've been picking up my ability to play a little bit at a time. I'm thinking of picking up a new book of music that has some easy melodies. I've gone through the first set of callouses on my fingertips and I think things are getting better.

The best I've gotten so far was a compliment from my Mom who said "that sounds good . . . and I'm not saying that just because I'm your mother." Oh and it's only been in the 70s in Chicago. I went out on the town on Friday night and got a little crazy. I had two drinks before leaving so I was already socially inappropriate when I met my cousin's college friends. It only got worse from there.

Nashville Star

I was really serious when I said I wanted to become a country star. So I went out and bought an accoustic guitar. I've learned a bunch of chords, but can someone please tell me how to work the whoel tablature thing.

Jury Duty

So I was compelled to perform my civic duty today. I showed up at 9:45 and sat around till the late afternoon. There were three trials set for the day. All of them arrived at a settlement sometime after lunch. So a 180 jurors sat around for a full work day reading books, magazines and taking short naps. I wish there was a better way to do this, but I cannot offer a single suggestion.

I took a book from home to read today, "I owe Russia $1200" by Bob Hope. It was a book from my grandmother's library and it was an interesting read. I think it was written sometime in the late 60s and its view of the world was markedly different. In particular there was this section about Korea. It described South Korea as barely subsistant and agricultural. It described poverty and bleakness. Then it described the industrial north. Absolutely amazing how things have changed.

My Stay is Over

I finally did it. I picked up and left Mississippi. I've taken a tremendously roundabout route but I'm back home in Chicago for much needed r&r and to restart my training schedule. We loaded up a u-haul with all my worldly possession and just set out east bound on I-40. Driving that u-haul had to be the most difficult and stressful drive of my life. I'm used to my little car that can weave in-and-out of traffic and is easy to manuever all over big cities, but not this truck. Driving it anywhere, but flat open road was tricky.

I'm now a homeowner as well. I signed my life away. I felt like a kid on his birthday. Everyone was just watching me open up my new present. However, this time I had to pay for my gift. It's strange, all I'm interested in doing right now is fixing the place up. I've found myself looking at different types of wood, paint, furniture etc... I went to an Ikea and I thought to myself that it's the adult version of Toys r' Us. I cannot wait to go to Home Depot and Loews. I've have all sorts of little projects in mind including re-doing the bathroom, adding closet and storage space and woodworking. I've crossed the line and don't know how to get back.

It's r&r time for me.

My Webster's Submissions

As the Cincinnati Kid has often said, I am a wordsmith. A recent hobby of mine has been to create obscure new words and phrases. I figure that if Shakespeare could basically craft the modern English language, than all of us lesser muses can at least take a stab at coming up with one or two new words. So the following are my submissions to the folks at Webster's Dictionary.

deadlinery: the act of using nit-picky reasoning and rationale to defeat or distract from otherwise meritorious statements or arguments.

saganize: taken from the author and scientist Carl Sagan. This is the act of taking extremely complicated and confusing ideas, subject matter or arguments and boiling them down into easily conveyable and understandable counterparts (something which Carl Sagan was a genius at doing).

soo: an emphasis word, something similar to the word "too", as in it's "soo cold."

Anyone else with some suggestions?

The Evolution of [my] Legal Thinking

It's nearly August and in the mind of most American cyclist there are two things-- the national crit championships and where should I stay? For me it's super easy. I can stay with my folks and then ride the seven miles to the race. One of the ironies of life is that the national championships is held in Chicagoland, which is something I've very rarely taken advantage of. However, this year there is a problem. My job ends at the end of July and my new doesn't begin until September. That leaves me with a month where I am under insured.

In the past that might not have been a problem, but looking back at this cycling season and my inability to keep the rubber side down I have to pause. I thought about it for a little while and came up with a decision not to race. This stands contrary to my normal attitude and therefore a small chart is necessary to explain the evolution of my thought processes:

Picture this: me standing over a pit of ravenous wolves ready to tear the flesh off of anything (kind of like a bad crit).

Undergrad Version of Me: (ignorance is bliss)
"Damn this will suck"
*dives into the pit and emerges miraculously unharmed*


2nd Year Law Student Version of Me: (knowledge is power)
"This'll hurt, but I'll sue the hell out of someone for it later"
*dives into the pit and is mauled viscously. my health insurance denies coverage sends a collection agency against me but my parents eventually bail me out*

1st Year Attorney Version of Me: (reality bites)
"I'll probably win at trial and get reversed on appeal. Then I'll end up having no money and owing attorney's fees on top of it."
*breaks out a folding chair and something domestic lite and cold and waits till next year"

The Cincinnati Kid Strikes Again

In the latest addition of what to do when you should be doing something else. The following was sent to me by the Cincinnati Kid (you'll need to get the song/rhythm in your head--the chorus is in italics):

Bud light presents…Real men of genius……real meeen of genius
Today we salute you Mr. I use big words to prove I’m better than you……. Mr. I use big words to prove I’m beeeetter than you
Your a listless bard, and a god among men…………………oh so bardish
You’re a soul mechanic, a heart surgeon if you will….and language is your tool………..fix me up baby
If there is one thing the reader knows from reading your work, its that you’re a better human than they are……juuust a poor farm boy
Commas…please…you’ll use them whenever you damn well feel like it……………………no such thing as too many
Rule of grammar and punctuation…ha…you wrote the book on it..and now your changing it…………….I do what I waaaant
And even if others don’t agree, you know you’re the best…and that makes you a real man of genius………the cuuuubs suck

Anheuser Busch, St Louis, MI.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I feel like my life is more complete now.

The Open Road

It calls me sometimes like a phantom voice in my head. The open road is my long lost savior. When the world closes in on me and everything seems bleak, she is there ready, willing and accepting of me. I really think that I find true peace only on miles of empty blacktop.

It's been hard on me these last couple of weeks, being restricted as I have been. It's a Saturday today and I only put in in 2 1/2 hours. A month ago it would be at least 4 hours and maybe longer if the weather wasn't horrible. I keep telling myself to pace myself, let all the injuries heal before you push yourself again, but honestly it's really hard to limit myself like that.

I sometimes daydream about riding the big mountains of the blue ridge. As I drove through south west Virginia a couple of weeks ago I almost screamed because their they stood in all their might, just waiting for me to conquer them. I'll be there next year, and those mountains will meet their maker. I've come to conquer you, that's what I say every time I'm about to race a moutain race. Finally, I can back that statement up.

I'll miss the open Mississippi road. My house in Rural is only a mile and half away from nowhere. And nowhere is my favorite place to be on a bike. In nowhere there are no people and no people means no cars. It's just me, the blacktop and a steady cadence. I finally started bucking up again and tossing it into the big ring--KU style. I had been little ringing it for the last couple of months in an effort to help my legs recover from all the races.

I just burned out hard this year. It comes with the territory and also the geography. It's just too damn hard to race in Mississippi. Everything requires driving and lots of it. There were only two races this year in Jackson and both of them were more than 30 minutes from my house. In the future, one half of my races will be within riding distance. It makes things easier.

So the open road calls me again. Dusty roads weren't made for walking and spinning wheels weren't made for stopping. Miranda Lambert, she's got a point.

My Adoring Fans

It's a well known fact that "when I grow up" I want to be one of two things-- a country music star or a NAScar driver. Well, I think I've finally hit my mark and it's time for me to pack the bags up and head for Nashville. So ready or not CMT here I come.

The city of Rural has been hiding a dark secret from me. Apparently on Mondays at the local watering hole it's karaoke night. That simple fact has saved this burg from being labeled absolutely hopeless for me. Finally I have a forum to take my skill and talent and show it to the public.

I love country music and I love singing country music. Sadly, up until now the only person who got to witness my talents was the unlucky soul stuck in the car with me when my favorite Garth Brooks song came on. Not any more. Now I've got a whole bar filled with people that I may impress with my singing prowess.

It took me a couple of rounds, but I finally worked up the courage to pick up the book of songs and search for my newest favorite country music song-- "Still got a lot of Leaving Left to do" by Dierks Bentley. I admit, my admiration of his music is done only grudgingly. However, my distaste for my admiration is only do to the fact that he looks like the tool of a roommate I once had. His tunes are catchy and sometimes I just cannot help but sing along.

So I get up there and the music starts. It's really awkward the first time you sing without the accompanying rhythm and tone of the actual singer. It took me a few minutes to actually get comfortable hearing my own voice. However, once I surrendered to the wind, I realized that I could in fact fly. Then all-of-a-sudden it became fun. People were watching and listening to me sing. Some fools were even singing along with me. It was a rush that I don't often feel.

The rush was only made better when my wonderful friends continued to fill my head with praise for how good I was. Thank you so much for lying to me...it's one of the few times I really enjoyed being lied to. I guess I know what Grandpa Smurf (one of my Scandalous co-workers) must feel when he gets up there to sing a song or two. So now it's time to pack up the bags and go. I'll just stop in DC for a year or two to hone my skills. Next, it's on to fulfilling that NAScar dream of mine.

4th of July

Finally the injuries that I suffered at the Giro have started to heal. It was nearly two weeks off the bike, but I've finally started riding again. I'm pretty sure that racing is kind of out of the picture for the next month or two. I'm setting my sights on next season's early races. It's a little weird to be winding down in July, but there are so many things that need to get done this month.

Rollin' down ol 95

My first rule of road trip travel and for cycling training routes for that matter, is never come back the same way you went out. Life and cycling ain't about the out-and-back. So I cruised up to DC on I-81 through TN and VA and I'm going back on I-95 bound for the AtL. As C-Dog, has so often said, you can't break the rules if your the one making them.

It's too early to claim victory in DC, but things went well. The Queen of Cap Hill and I hit up my favorite bar that I have never been to before last night in DuPont Circle right across from the monument to Taras Shevchenko. They claim to have beer from everywhere in the world, but ironically not from the home country of the man whose monument stands right in front of it--Ukraine.

Despite the fact that I couldn't throw down any Obolone and they were out of my Russian standard, Baltica, they had this amazing Ethiopian beer. Also, there was a French beer that had a wine like texture to it which went down smooth. Much scorn I have for the person who walks into this bar and orders something domestic, light and cold . . . unless it's obscure.

Quick lesson learned this week-- you can buy a closet in DC for the same price as a plantation home in Mississippi. Even quicker lesson-- I'm home.

Tilfords got Mad Game

Mad props to Tilford for the Kansas-style win at Nature Valley:

http://www.velonews.com/race/dom/articles/10038.0.html

Leave it to a Kansan to attack through the corner in a race that's soo nasty that they need to cut it short.

A BBQ with Ivy League Law Students

My bar review buddy and I strolled up to M & Wisconsin last night to meet an old friend of his for a BBQ. I come to find out that the other people at the BBQ, including the old friend, all attend a pretigous Ivy League law school and were down for the summer working for huge law firms. This, of course, I see is my perfect chance to see how socially unadjusted they all were. Bar review buddy and I walk in and introduce ourselves and within 30 seconds they had fallen into my well rehearsed trap. Amazingly, I did it all without pulling out my best southern accent.

$30k per year in law school tuition obviously doesn't do much for you. The first guy I came into contact informed me that he had spent a couple of days the previous year touring Natchez and Vicksburg. Das is ne perfekt!!! We chatted for a moment about what he saw and where he went. Then he hits me with the concern that was on his mind...slavery. I love to talk about a 150 year-old dead economic system, especially to people who know next to nothing about history, like this fella. After touring some of the "plantation homes" in Natchez he was shown the old registers and books which listed the value of the slaves kept, names, etc...

He was appauled by this, he couldn't articulate his emotions very well (that skill must be in the extra ivy league law school package which is $5k more a year) but the jist was that Southerns need to be more apologetic for slavery and the exploitation that went along with slavery. Polite was my first response. My second response was factual and explanatory about the historically accurate relationship that was common between master and slave. Third was my theoretical response where I asked him to move beyond the idea that it was ownership of another human being. Having not satisfied his desires by this point in time and despite my best socratic method, having failed to draw out his real concern, I moved to the final approach--abject apathy. The conversation ended something like this.

ivy leaguer: "I just don't understand, I expected a greater degree of sympathy and awareness from the tour guides showing us the records."

me: "Most people that I know in the South have dealt with this issue for their whole lives and for the lives of their parents. I think largely they have made their peace with it and have decided that it would be better to move on and move forward in life. Also, it is kind of foolish to continue to blame the current generations for the actions of those who lived 150 years ago, but if it makes you feel good you can continue to blame them for it...I'm sure they won't care that much anyway about your obviously learned opinion."

Afterwards I walked over openned another beer and proceeded to find the undercooked burgers.

The one thing that disgusts me more than stupidity and ignorance, is when morality is thrust into the middle of it and then used to espouse a way of life. While, not being from the South as a result of birth, I am still patriotic of my law school home and defensive when someone attacks it without having the first inclination of the historical facts which they are challenging. When I was in school in Ukraine my professor told us this great truism. He was filled with these truisms and it was like manna from heaven every time he gave us one-

A man can spend a week in a place whose culture and society is foreign to him and after that week he gets the desire to write an article about the place. The same man can spend a month in the same place and after that he'll get the desire to write a book detailing his travels and the oddities that he faces. It isn't until after that man spends a lifetime in that place that he realizes that all his previous efforts were foolish and fruitless and there is no way that he can encapsulate what he has experienced for those who will never experience it.

After leaving that BBQ, bar review buddy turned to me and said (obviously saracastically) "those ivy leaguers know how to party." Had this been Arizona State (his institute of higher learning) we would be doing keg stands and diving into the local swimming pools. I looked at him and responded, had it been Ole Miss we'd all be whiskey drunk screaming off the balconys on the Square at passers-by. I guess class is something regional after all.

On a personal note, I realize now why Georgetown looks different at night compared to other cities in this country--the street lights. They don't use the same orange sulfur lights but rather something else. It's really strange, but definitely makes things look nicer.

DC World Tour

I guess that really is a totally incorrect statement and Scanlon will call me on it. I'll walk into work next week and Scanlon come up to me and say, "how can it be a world tour if it's just one city?" Ok, so it's just a trip up to DC and that's it.

I spent the last two days driving through some of the prettiest country I've seen in a long time and have arrived here along the shores of the Potomac ready to begin my search for a new home. Come this Fall, I'll be the newest member of the Federal Govt's growing attorney roster and thought that it was about time to find me a place to live. I'd been pushing off the hunt as long as I could, but suddenly I caught Potomac fever and now here I am.

The trip was uneventful, which was a blessing. I'm still hampered by my sprained wrist which made driving and using the turn signal a little more difficult than it should have been. I spent the night in Bristol, TN. The area was just gorgeous. I'd had a great chat with some random folk at the local watering hole where I put down the biggest and tallest cold one I've seen in a long time.

Random folk are great to meet. You don't have to worry about what you say to them because you'll never see them again. You don't and they don't put on an aire of superiority because what the heck do you have to prove. It's definitely better than the typical bar association happy hour...I mean at least with random folk you don't have to pretend like your interested in their insurance defense case work.

I'm excited about my soon-to-be new home and my new professional life. I cannot wait for my first Cosi chat with the queen of Cap Hill, or the impending questions from my high school buddy about joining the volunteer fire fighters in Falls Church. So tomorrow morning the hunt begins in full.

And the Bad Luck Continues

I think it's offical, this cycling season has been cursed. I'm typing now with only one hand because I had my 4th crash of the year. Over the last two years I crashed only once at Tyson's Corner two years back. So far this season on top of the crashes and the flat at Tri Peaks I can add dropping my chain twice in the TT last weekend at the Giro d' Rankin.

The wrist is sprained and in a splint. I pulled some muscles in my leg and I'm sore everwhere else. Therefore I've decided to take sometime off from racing. I don't think the pocket book can take much more of this. It's my right hand so now I've gotta brush my teeth, comb my hair and tie my tie with my bad hand. I never realized how uncoordinated I am with my left hand. Guess I'm going to have to learn to make it all work.

The crash was my fault. I was just a little too aggressive going through a corner in the crit and put the pedal into the pavement. When I dropped I was able to grab the top tube of the guy behind as he came over the top of me. That saved him from a lot of road rash and kept his bike from getting hurt. My machine is just fine, no damage to speak of, so I continue to get lucky in that regard.

For the road race this weekend in the 96 degree heat I continued to have troubles with hydration. I tried a gatorade and water mix, but it was still too sugary for me to get it down quickly. I went with Gu packets and that really hit the spot. It was a big change from my dry Nature Valley bars that I had been using till then. I think I'll stick with them for the future when I start racing again.

Well, it's off to DC in 2 days. I was going to race and ride while there, but I'm not even going to take a bike this time.

South Carolina Road Trip

Btw...if anyone reads this post who lives in Clemson, rides bikes and is named Ben is interested I'm thinking about driving through in 8 days or so, and maybe we might do some mountain riding for a day?

Nutrition

My weight in January 2006: 175lbs

My weight in June 2006: 155lbs

I think the diet is working, but I won't be sure until my body is so calorie starved that it begins to cannibalize the tissue in my spine causing me to shrink in height. When I hit that point I'll officially be ready to race.

The most recent struggle I'm facing is getting the calories necessary to keep going. I've started a new training/eating regime now. I'm giving up the chocolate Lucky Charms for Raisin Brain and I'm going to carry a banana with me during my morning rides. Afterwards I'm going to down my favorite Slim Fast shake on the way to work in place of my Pop-Tart. Just looking at my eating habits for the last couple of months I'm amazed that I continue to survive.

Back in Kansas I could get away with drinking little and eating less because of the temperatures and distances that I raced. However, here in the South where we are so close to the damned sun I cannot do that anymore. This weekend we start our road race at 1:30PM on Saturday, where the forecasted temperature is 96. That's insane, it isn't even summer yet.

So the question I pose to the more knowledgeable members of the cycling community is how the heck to hydrate and put calories into your body efficiently. I've seen a million different gimmicks and supplements and crap ad naseum, but what actually works? What is going to get me to the last 20 miles of a race in a position where my body can react when called upon and not run the risk of cramping or bonking out?

Lulla Graduated

I hope that everyone in the whole wide world will join me in congratulating LullaBelle on graduating cum laude from law school. I am so very proud of her for working so very hard these last three years. I know it wasn't easy, and at times I was the cause of it not being easy, but she did it. Now the world is her oyster and I hope she finds the pearl she's looking for.

Tri Peaks and the Battle for Uphill Dominance

After a good performance on Saturday mechanical difficulties relegated me to the wheel truck on Sunday. However, mad props go out to Uncle Steve for turning Mt. Nebo into his own personal suffer fest and leaving the competition in the dust.

Slowly but surely my powers as a climber, which were long rumored to exist, are coming into reality. Mills and Coles no doubt are confused about where my climbing prowess emerged from but I assure them largely it's a result of our combined stupidity of fighting 30 mph headwinds on the way to Globe, Baldwin City, Wellsville, Topeka and beyond. Not to mention the ability to descend on the top tube at 50-60 mph without blinking while hitting a corner that is supposed to be taken at 25 mph.

Here is the race profile for those who doubt that I really climbed.











I cannot mention my race on Sunday, because a flat taking me out of a road race makes me so angry. This is especially the case when I had just put new tires on the Ksyriums in order to prevent the same. Therefore, I will only talk about Saturday. Three climbs and 93 miles of racing put me in a tie for 4th place in a field of 50. After 20 flat miles of jockeying for position and making sure no one snuck away we hit Petit Jean. Petit Jean is a dirty little stair-stepper which started steep and the sort of relinquished it's grip as we went up. After my failures last year at McMinnville, I learned the lesson that no one wins a climb by starting in the back. So I started all the climbs in about 10th. Petit Jean failed to break enough legs to make it worth any trouble at all.

25 miles later was the long, and as far as I know unnamed climb. Honestly, I didn't notice we were going up it, until I saw everyone around me slow down and felt my legs start to burn. I looked to the right and left of me and suddenly there was a valley beneath me. The second climb lasted close to 6 miles and by about mile 4 I was beginning to grow weary of it. After engaging in the battle of who is the best climber in the 601 area code with a guy from Memphis Motor Werks we crested the mountain in a small group of maybe 15.

The descent was long and open so I took a few pages from Ben Coles' "Guide to Cycling While Intoxicated or how to not use your Brakes while Going Downhill" and put the knees and elbows together and head on the handlebars and went downhill. At the base of the descent about a mile later there were two of us together with a few stragglers. No one organized and so about 30 guys were able to pace back on to form what remained of the group.

25 miles later we hit the Danville climb. What I love the most about Arkansas climbs is the sign that proceeds them: "Caution the next X miles is steep and curves." We passed that sign and my teammate yells from the back, "good luck Rob and God speed". Danville was short but steep. It may have last only a mile, but when the lead group crested there were seven of us remaining. I'll admit that at 70 some odd miles into the race I was reaching my climbing breaking point. Something amazing happened to me during that final climb. I was getting gaped and my power to continue was failing me. I closed my eyes and took an extra deep breath and surged forward again. It was as if the guys in front of me stood still for a second. I rode right up to the front of the little group. I've seen that exact scene happen a bunch of times on flat land but at those points in time I could never make it back to the group and ended up getting dropped. There was something about the going uphill part that gave me just a little extra power to make the connection.

As we passed the final feed zone I grabbed myself a bottle of Heed and descended again (if anyone else can tell me what Heed is I'd appreciate it, because to me it tasted like watered down coke). The final descent would have made Jed proud. There was a corner with a 15 mph sign posted pretty close to the bottom of it. I saw a group of about 5 forming 100 feet in front of me and knew that this plus a few others was going to be the selection and I wanted to be in that group. I went to the top of the corner, which curved to the left, grabbed both brakes and tipped the bike sharp right. I let go of the levers and plunged right to back of that group.

It took another 5 minutes for us to be joined by any of the climb's survivors and we made up a group of 14 who pacelined into the finish. By mile 90 I was cooked and just sat on as the little guys (i.e. those skinner than me) pulled us in. I wasn't dead weight, but I did almost drop myself the couple of times I pulled. So I relegated myself to the back.

The weekends success and follies compelled me to call up the old coach. So starting in the Fall I'd like to get Coach Mills back in the action, that's if he'll have me back? However, I think for this week I'm going to kick back and relax to avoid the burnout that I'm starting to feel.

Getting Ready for the Big Mountains

Tri-Peaks and TN races are coming up and bring a few mountain climbs. It's at this time every year that I start to think that I like climbing and that I'm good at it. So I thought I would find a visual reminder of the pain I go through when climbing in an effort to sober up to the stupidity that lies ahead.

Collegiate Nationals in 2002 going up Middlebury Gap at about 30 miles into the race. I don't really remember much about the 2000 foot climb or the descent. I know I dropped the guy behind me like a dress on prom night. No one jumped around me and rode away from me...however I was nowhere near the front when I started the climb. I was able to stay in the group for another 10-15 miles and then the next climb up Appalachian Gap ended my hopes of contesting for anything other than zig-zagging up the final kilometer.

For some odd reason the camera seems to find me with the same stupid look on my face:

U-City, Gateway Cup 2004. Everyone else has the ultra-euro pain face going on, but me. I get the confused and half-baked where are all the white elephants coming from look.

Mountains Mountains everywhere and nare a chance to field sprint. Maybe this year my prophecy and the Ben "what do you mean I didn't eat all July" Coles diet will take hold and I'll get to the top of Mt. Nebo and beyond.

The Cincinnati Kid

What can one say about Brian Murphy that has not already been said? He is a man of mythic proportions yet possessing a humility that would make Gandhi seem vain. These are but a few of the prose he has composed in the past 24 hours:

Rob I would like to give the following speech on your last day of work to
the entire court:

I do not posses (as no one else does) your
amazing ability to craft a magnificent work of art from words floating around in
chaos. I don't have the patience and temperament to make the world a
better place one sentence at a time. I can't see the forest through the
trees, I can't make grown men weep. Sometimes when I read your writing, I
think "this proves it, rob is a god of communication. He speaks to me as
if he has lived in my shoes all my life." Rob, your words mend the soul
and cradle the heart; keep up the good work

A song of beauty which is unmatched except by his other words like:

Rob: a calm and collected genius when it comes to painting a picture with
words. If he ever met Steven Hawking, Hawking would be astounded by Rob's
magnificent prose and tailoring of the English language to meet his need, a
higher need. He has always had a love for the "little guy" but has also
never been afraid of a challenge. He loves the finer things in life, but
has no credit card debt. He was on his way to owning a house at the young
age of 23, and he can ride the hell out of a bike with thin tires.

I feel honored that he even knows my name. That he has taken the time to think about me in the few moments during the day when he is not controlling the weather. What are we mere mortals to do, but stand in awe of the verbal perfection that is Brian Murphy. I've seen his words shake the Earth and stop the tides. He is first among equals. No I have mispoken, he has no equal but stands supreme among all creation save Nate's beard:

GA Crits

This past weekend Lulla and I went to Athens for the Twilight Crit and then stayed an extra day for the Roswell Crit. I have never seen more crashes in a Cat 3 crit then I did in Athens. Crashes occurred all over the course including on the uphill start-finish line. I don't know why either. It might have been because the field was so big, because the course was rather easy to race or because it was a short race with a lot on the line. Whatever it was I saw at least three crashes before the one that took me down.

It was one of those classic crashes where the guy on either side of you goes down and you know that you have no way out of it. You just accept your fate that soon you are going to be down on the ground and it's going to hurt. The thing that ticks me off is that this is my second crash this year and neither of them have been my fault. In both cases I've been the unlucky guy who just gets caught. I have my theories on what or who is causing these crashes, but I'll spare everyone the long boring explanation.

This crash took it's toll on my equipment. I split my helmet along the side behind my ear but thankfully it wasn't my head that did the same. Everything else was ok, but I developed a huge bruise on the back of my calf and inner thigh from the handlebars or maybe someone else. Needless to say the day was done for me.

I decided that I would just watch the twilight race and enjoy myself. Jed was racing at night and thought it would be great to watch him and some of the big time pros go at it. We had great seats right in the final corner and got to watch one of the biggest wrecks that I've ever seen. Unfortunately Jed went down in it and broke his handlebars in the process. The 40th guy hit the ground and then riders 41-150 hit him. There were just too many guys in the field to come after the crash for anyone to escape.

The twilight crit was some of the fastest racing I have ever seen. It got so hard and so fast that you could just feel people's legs ripping in half. In the end it wasn't the big teams that won the race but two guys who came out of nowhere, took a huge risk in the final corner and drove it to the line for the win. That's the kind of racing I like to see. The racing where sparks fly from pedals hitting the ground and guys who start their sprint before the bike can even dream of being back upright.

The Roswell Crit was fine, just stayed up and finished in the pack. I wanted to do more, but the bruise stopped me from unleashing a lot of power, even though I did string the field out once going for it with 3 laps to go.

Confederate Memorial Day

I forgot to mention in my last post that I had Monday this week off of work to celebrate Confederate Memorial Day. Seriously, it was an official State of Mississippi holiday. I'm not so sure how I felt about taking a day off to celebrate a people who waged war on my country but I did it just the same.

I bet that caught a few people off guard, but think of this-- having lived in a bunch of different states, countries and on different continents, this is the only place I have ever lived where the government built monuments to men and women who raised arms against my country.

Mississippi Grand Prix

It's been one full day since the end of my first timed stage race. I've healed some of the wounds that I inflicted on my legs but it's going to be a while before everything is running at full steam. It was a tough 4 races over three days in Brookhaven, MS. I'm proud of my 11th place finish in the cat 3 race, but wished I could have done better in the overall standings.

Friday night was a rough and tumble crit full of lappings and being lapped. I don't know the wisdom of including a crit in a timed race but heck, if that's what they want that's what they get. From the gun it was fast. I've never started quick in any race but knew that I would have to that night. It was easily closing in on 30 for the first ten minutes. I thought about pulling out but then realized . . . well I don't think I had the time to complete any of my thoughts.

I along with a group of ten was lapped at about the 35 minute mark, after having lapped another group of about seven. I never thought I could be dropped twice in one race but I was. It was at that point in time that I lost some time to a few of the cat 3s who were able to hang on to the 1s and 2s in the lapping group.

Saturday was rough too. Some yo-yo decided to go from the gun. As I'm fumbling for the big ring he's dropping the hammer. I put myself into the red only to realize that I was the lantern rouge of the race and that there was nowhere to go but forward. After the first 18 mile lap things settled down. A break got away and an organized chase ensued with the Compliance Depot guys leading the charge.

The chase brought the race down to a manageable pace, but I could still tell that one particular section of road which included a long slow uphill would cause serious troubles if anyone ever decided to go hard up it. The nice thing about a 3 racing with 1s and 2s is that you know that all you have to do when the time comes is respond to the move.

That's exactly what I did. With about 5 km to go someone put in an effort up that section of road. I had been dropped there two years ago and was bound and determined not to be a victim this time around. I jumped onto Frank Bruer's wheel as it started to get nasty and just put my head down. I could feel the muscles in my legs ripping to pieces, but I was not going to lose that wheel. I looked back and the field was gone and I was the last man in the break. Too bad it was all for nothing because the field caught us half a mile later when people started playing around up front and it turned into a massive pack finish.

The TT was painful and I care not to talk about it. TTs are by far my weakest discipline, but on a positive note I finished in the middle of the 3s this time and got the sense that I am improving.

The last crit was hot and fast. It was built just the way I don't like it. I have some serious problems with courses that repeat power climbs and this one did just that. It isn't the climb that hurts me, but the fast descent that puts me down. I'm small enough to be able to climb with the power riders by spinning the heck out of things but when they switch into their 11s and 12s on the descent I don't have what it takes to respond as quickly as I need to.

At minute number 20 of 75 I dropped my water bottle. I had two water bottles and one of them just popped out of the cage when I hit a little pothole. I was in trouble when that happened. It was Bensenville all over again. This time I was too stubborn to quit. At minute 40 I started to get a couple of chills in the 85 degree heat. Minute 50 came and I noticed a few goosebumps developing on my arms. I stood up coming over the hill at minute 60 and the breeze nearly took my breath away because it was so cold. Thereafter I decided not to look at the clock anymore. I told myself just make it to the last lap and group finish to keep your 11th place hopes alive. That's all I wanted to do and that is what I did. It's sweet revenge for my failure at Bensenville to do the same.

Next Race: Athens Twilight and Roswell Criteriums

Cycling Probability Question

This post is something that I have long been contemplating but only recently have come to a mathematical conclusion on. My problem is that I am not sure what the formula is for this conclusion. So if anyone can create a formula for these results I would love to see it.

Here is the basic question:

Three people leave their homes around the same time of day. Each person lives within 50 miles of the other person and they do not know each other. They set off on their daily journey all heading in a random directions. What is the probability that they will cross the other's path at the exact same moment? Most likely almost zero.

Now change one fact. One of the three people is me on my bike. Now what is the probability that the two other people in a car will meet me on the road at the same time going in opposite directions of each other? Mostly likely high.

Now what is the probability that these other two will pass me and each other while cresting a hill or going around a blind corner? 99.9%

If only cars were not allowed on the road while I was out riding...

I Did Something to Grab the Attention of the AP

The following is an AP article taken from today's Clarion Ledger. It marks the first time that an opinion I worked on made the news.

Miss. Supreme Court tosses 18 out-of-state asbestos claims against 3M

The Associated Press

The Mississippi Supreme Court has tossed out the asbestos claims of 18 out-of-state plaintiffs against the 3M Co.

In its 6-1 decision this past week, the court ruled a trial judge erred in ruling the cases would be heard in Holmes County Circuit Court.

"Holmes County lacks the required interest in the wholly out-of-state appellees' claims, and it would be a waste of judicial resources if tried in Mississippi," Presiding Justice Kay Cobb wrote for the court.

Cobb said the plaintiffs have no connection to Mississippi and are neither from Mississippi nor did their injuries arise from conduct in Mississippi.

"The courts of Mississippi will not become the default forum for plaintiffs seeking to consolidate mass-tort actions. To allow otherwise would waste finite judicial resources on claims that have nothing to do with the state," Cobb said.

In a 19th case, Cobb said Circuit Judge Jannie Lewis must determine separately if that case can be heard in Mississippi. Plaintiff Willie Kern claims exposure to asbestos while working in Attala County and in Illinois.

Of the 18 out-of-state plaintiffs, 13 claimed exposure in Illinois, while others claimed exposure in Louisiana, Minnesota, Missouri, Colorado and North Carolina.

Cobb said if the out-of-state plaintiffs were allowed to pursue their claims in Mississippi, the trial judge would be forced to apply not only Mississippi law, but also the laws of Colorado, Illinois, Louisiana, North Carolina, Minnesota and Missouri.

"This would require seven different product liability statutes, seven different jury instructions and seven different verdicts. This would confuse the jury and lead to possible error," she said.
Asbestos is a commercial name for several different types of minerals that were commonly used in insulation, fireproofing materials, wallboard materials and automotive brakes until the 1970s.
Its use was drastically scaled back after public disclosure that it had a tendency to break down into microscopic particles that could hang in the air and be easily inhaled, potentially causing lung scarring, breathing problems, cancer or heart failure.

In 2000, more than 150 plaintiffs sued about 62 defendants in Holmes County over asbestos exposure. Six plaintiffs were selected to be tried jointly against the defendants against whom there were claims.

On Oct. 1, 2001, a jury awarded each plaintiff $25 million in compensatory damages. No punitive damages were awarded.

The Mississippi Supreme Court threw out the jury award in 2005, ruling that separate trials should have been conducted in each case.

In what has become the standard for huge tort lawsuits involving multiple plaintiffs and defendants, the Supreme Court ruled it was improper to group the plaintiffs together when their claims did not arise from the same incident or involve the same defendants.

Tour LeFleur

Some weekends you've got it and then some weekends you don't. For me it was the latter. I misjudged everything. For me the weekend was "oh that break will come back" (it didn't), "this guy will bridge that gap" (he didn't), "these guys will go easy here and faster there" (so didn't), "they're racing for X" (they weren't racing for anything). So I take my lumps and look forward to the next race.

I crashed wicked hard on Saturday. Some yahoo, decided that he was tired of going fast and by the time I knew it I was up on his rear wheel rubbing it pretty hard. That's fine and all I don't have a problem with that, until someone else starts rubbing my wheel at the same time. So there I was trying to fend off two guys forcing my bike in two different directions, which of course means that I'm headed in a third which is right down to the ground. My question is why do people get pissed and start cursing when they crash? I'm calm about it. For me it's, ok let's check out all our body parts and make sure they are still there, then check out the machine, is it all together?

For me, the machine wasn't. I lost my Ksyrium front wheel. It was tacoed straight to hell, but on a brighter note, my tire didn't flat and I broke zero spokes. So it's safe to say that those are some good wheels. I went and took my five free laps, got a new wheel and put myself back in the race. It's a bad crit course and I strongly recommend for anyone who doesn't live in Jackson to not do the crit ever. You're wasting your time if you do. Thankfully for me it's a short drive and I had a lot of supporters out there yelling for me. And then later I had some very kind person take care of my road rash. Thank you for that.

The road race was equally disappointing, so I won't belabor anyone with that report. I'm just going to take my lumps and move on to the next race. My thing is, if you're team has 9 cat 1s in a race and my team has 5 cat 3s, don't ask us to chase down a break of 1s and 2s from a 3rd team for you. You've got the manpower to control a race and we've got the man power to be opportunistic. Go chase it down yourselves. My team did well at the road race, too bad I was so far back that I didn't get to see it. See earlier mention of gaps closing and breaks sticking.

Next Race: Miss. Grand Prix, Brookhaven.

Scalia Speaks

Justice Scalia came to Rural yesterday and chose to speak on a topic that surprised me--the role of foreign legal decisions in American law. I was waiting for the traditional speech about blah blah blah originalism blah blah everyone else is wrong blah blah. I must admit that I was pleasantly surprised by the change of topic and even agreed with him when he said that he wouldn't allow self-righteous Europeans dictate our law to us. There definitely is value to knowing what the rest of the world is doing, but that doesn't mean we have to follow them.

In 1776 the rest of the world was creating monarchies and autocracies, we didn't follow them then and it's turned out pretty good for us so far. I do however, disagree with most of the usual stuff that Justice Scalia says. Therefore I found this quote which I particularly like:

"I can only hope for a day when the courts of justice will decline to dig among the tombs of a dead past for ancient and obsolete precedent . . . and the law will be treated as a philosophy to be applied to the ever changing condition of man, and not as a straight jacket with no leeway for the exercise of common sense and common justice."--Mr. Justice Scott of Colorado

There is of course something to be said in favor of Scalia's interpretative prowess and against the rapidly changing world of the living constitutionalists. However, extremist are rarely right and the better course is typically charted through the middle. I don't have an interpretative agenda to push like Scalia, because I cannot wrap mine into a neat two sentence package like he can. I agree that simplicity is the key and that a dynamic changing Constitution serves no one but those in power. However, I also agree that there are rights embedded in the Constitution which do not appear in bold print. There will always be a B in between A and C. Therefore, I must respectfully dissent from Justice Scalia's approach and follow my own path.