Rocking the Round Hill (VA) with a Neo-Pro

In looking back at this blog I  realize I post a lot about not being in DC.  Last year I spent over 80 nights away from DC for both work and bike racing, which could lead some to believe I do not like it here.  That is absolutely not true.  Riding in DC is some of the best I have found in the country.  We have beautiful roads, respected routes and a great community of fellow bike racers.  The Mid-Atlantic racing scene is also one of the best and most consistent in the country.

I also don't write a lot about local races and riding.  A quick review of Gam Jams on a Monday morning following a race weekend will prove how well covered the local scene is already.  It will also serve as a reminder of the painful moments my subconscious tried to forget as well.  Therefore, my own particular insights about these races probably would not provide extra value and might distract from my own joy of reading about other people's impressions of our experience. 
Now that the race season has subsided and I am back to long training rides I have headed back out to one of my favorite local haunts about an hour drive from DC in a town right under the Blue Ridge -- Round Hill.  For various reasons, I have become a regular in the area and I know I'm not alone.  In the past I have seen a host of MABRA's finest-- Joe Jefferson, the now west coastal Chuck and a bunch of team rides from NOVA-based squads on those back roads.  So the secret is definitely out.

One of the real joys of riding there is that I am joined periodically by Neo-Pro Curtis Winsor, pictured here in white (in full high school prom night glory).  When he is home and away from his efforts to conquer the cycling world I often join him for way too many long hours in the saddle.  He does have a tendency of getting us lost and convincing me to go for "just a little bit longer" which almost always turns into one more mountain or one more hour.

I need to brag a little bit here about my friend Curtis.  I have been riding with him for about 2 years and since then he has gone from elite ametuer to faux pro and now to an official neo-pro with Kenda/5-hour Enegry Pro Cycling presented by GEARGRINDER.  It has been incredible to be along for the ride while he has made this journey and I cannot say enough good things about his attitude and how grounded he has remanded.  Granted, his epic rise does mean I win fewer and fewer town/county/state-line sprints against him; but, I have grown comfortable with that fact.  And more importantly, it will not dissuade me from trying, again and again. 

Bike racing is, at it's heart, a social endeavor-- a shared suffering.  Growing up as a swimmer I realize the privilege we have in bike racing of being able to talk to others while we are training or competing.  It was always difficult in swimming to realize you were going to be staring at a black line on the bottom of a pool for hours without the ability to share thoughts or jokes with those who are nearest you.   

Winter training is about that aspect of the sport-- rolling out with your buddies for long rides.  In the race season, which now seems to be ever expanding with the inclusion of CX, I get so focused on getting to races on time, on prepping equipment and all sorts of things unrelated to just enjoying the company of people who share my interest.  When winter rolls around it's great to re-enter that world.  I have been admittedly isolated in the last couple of offseasons, much to my detriment.  I spent a lot of last offseason riding solo.  Too much time out alone will likely drive you crazy and I'm sure it did for me . . . to a small degree. 

So this winter, I have promised myself that I will be more present.  So if you see me out riding or on a group ride please just ride up and chat.  I can always use the company.     

New Orleans and New Sarpy

I've had a long standing love affair with the Crescent City and I got the chance to be there for a week. There is something really special about New Orleans- it's a perfect mixture of life, food, decadence and rust. I enjoy cities that are lived in, ones that have history which is evident from the moment you walk in. I get really annoyed with places that are so clean and so perfect that you wonder if you have to take your shoes off when you cross the city limits. New Orleans is a special place and you know it just by being there. You see it even more when you get passed Poydras and head out into Southern Louisiana.

While the pavement might not be perfect, New Orleans is a really rideable city and one that I have gotten used to riding in. It also has a growing cycling community with well attended local weekend rides. By virtue of living in Mississippi for a couple of years I came to know the racing scene and a bunch of the elite guys who are legit hammers. I wanted to test out my legs on the river levee which is an about 25-mile stretch of paved bike path along the Mississippi River which heads out to New Sarpy, which is a small town on the river. The path is not nearly as congested as you would guess and it's a good place to get in a strong ride out into the swamp. Just don't expect any elevation change but do expect a strong headwind at some point.

I love eating in New Orleans. My experience is that food is a celebration down there and not something which you just do. I had to have a couple quick meals and hit up one of my favorite sandwich shops Mother's which is perfectly located right across the street from the courthouse. Just remember when someone asks you if you want debris on your po-boy that means a whole bunch of dressing and not road trash. And everyone at Mother's refers to you as "baby" and they don't take tips. Just accept those facts.

I also got to try out a place I've wanted to try for a long time- Upperline-- which is just up the road off St. Charles uptown a bit. It was delicious meal and the bartender made a great sidecar which is always a plus. And who can complain about a $45 prix fix three course menu? I enjoy places where the owners and managers are there and take an interest in your enjoyment. Just thinking about it now makes me want to go back down.

DON'T FLY US AIRWAYS

I cannot make it any clearer than that. I have been a longtime critic of the random pricing of airline bike fees; but a recent charge I was forced to pay was unconscionable. I went down to New Orleans for a trial last week. Based on our position in the case I knew I would have some periodic free time while I was down there so I thought it was a good idea to bring the bike with me. Plus, I wanted to test out my form on the river levee-- nothing says fun like 50 miles of absolutely flat reptitive riding (sarcasm font)!!! So I boxed the bike up and took it to DCA for my morning flight. After some back and forth with the ticket agent, I was charged $200 for just my bike-- $200!!!

This was a $140 increase over the fee I paid in 2008, on the same flight, on the same plane, on the same airline. I consider this to be ridiculous. Of course I thought that this was just the latest in a long line of airline's charging random amounts for bikes for no good reason. And, that on the way back the price would fall back to the $100 range like it is on United and most other airlines. Sadly I was mistaken. I checked the US Airways website and sure enough, the bike fee is listed at $200.

I guess I should have checked the website out first and would have been spared the grotesque shock of hearing that dollar amount. However, in my wildest imagination, I did not think it could possibly be that much of an increase in such a short period of time. What is most interesting is that the bike fee is a 10x increase over their standard charge for other checked bags. I debated doing an airline-by-airline spreadsheet of charges; but I found that the fees change so regularly that it really is not worth my time to try and keep up.

Moral of thes story, check their prices online beforehand and simply do not fly US Airways. The service has always been marginal and its employees are lackluster anyways. By and large Southwest and Virgin are the best and cheapest airlines when it comes to baggage fees-- $50 each way. If possible, my goal is to limit the number of times I check my bike this year. Just means more driving for me; but to save the aggravation of fees and bike boxes I have no problems doing it.

The Rivalry

There is something pure about a rivalry-- a simplicity in the dislike rivals have toward each other mixed with a grudging respect that comes with heated competition. Rivalry is part of what makes sports great and why watch. What would baseball be without the Yankees and the Red Sox? What would football be without the Bears and the Packers? It is games like those that get circled on calendars long before a season starts. It is those games which draw people in like no other throughout the season.

When I was a swimmer, back in the days of yore, I had a bitter rival. We did not race each other each weekend but we found ourselves staring across the lanes more often than not. With each race our rivalry grew and the competition got better. Eventually I would outpace him and the competition ceased but while it was on going it produced some magical races.

In the world of bike racing I have missed out on that for some time. So you can imagine my happiness when Nick Versus Gravity brought back the joy of rivalry to my life. It started subtle, a text taunting me about his prowess in CX followed by a Facebook message encouraging me to bring my "A" game. Then came his assurances I would find myself in the tape. Because of a trial scheduled this September I was not able to open the CX season in MABRA but sure enough when Winchester rolled around I got to line up right behind him and this is what ensued:



Granted neither of us won the race but all the fireworks do not have to be at the front of the field right? In the end his mouth was bigger than the wattage he could throw down...however he did go down a bunch of times. We have not resumed our rivalry yet because frankly Nick Versus Gravity chose to chicken out and not go to Granogue; presumably because it was too much of a man's race for him, and I raced up in the 1/2/3 at DCCX.

Come Ed Sanders the Rivalry will resume. This one is likely to get ugly.

Raining and Pouring

The weather here, and around every part of the country that I've been to lately, has been spotty at best. One moment it's sunny and the next moment it's raining sideways. Such has been the pains of my season as well. I showed moments of greatness in Phoenix and had a solid ride at Black Hill to be followed by three sub par performance over the past three weeks. A battle with a couple mechanical problems and a crash have a way of sorting things out for you in a hurry. Especially when my margin for error is so small.

I took a rare day off to do my other favorite thing. . . sit and enjoy a Spring day with food and friends at Oatlands for the annual Hunt Point-to-Point. I am bringing out a new fashion trend this season. I noticed a vest as a replacement for the sport coat in a recent episode of White Collar and wanted to give it a test drive. I think it's a great move for the blistering temps of the Summer. Who ever is running the costume shop on that show has been inside my closet lately. As long as looking classy is in style I am a happy guy. To that end I was introduced last year to Suresh Khemlani of Custom Executive Outfitters. He's been my tailor since then and put together a great set of shirts for me as a Christmas gift from the pretty brunette pictured here. I strongly recommend him to anyone. It's harder than you think finding business clothes that fit the body of an athlete. He comes to you and has been a pleasure to work with.

My out of town season starts in mid-May with Tour de Grove. It marks the first opportunity that I have had since becoming a Cat 2 to get into a race with my coach and friend Adam Mills. I have been looking forward to this for two years. No doubt it'll be one of the toughest races I have been in for a long time but bike racing has always been about challenges and meeting them head on, especially when they have a tendency of meeting you back.

Local Racing

MABRA has a style of racing I have not found in too many places-- the circuiterium. It's not long enough to be a circuit race and its not short enough to be a crit, it's the race somewhere in the middle. During the opening months of the race season in the Mid-Atlantic our calendar is dominated by these races. They take a couple different forms but mostly they are about 1 1/2 miles without much in the way of technical challenges. In most cases the races come down to a match up of rider against rider and not riders against the course. Our first local race like this took place recently out in Maryland in a particularly unassuming place. It was great to get the local season started here but the remainder has been less than satisfying. Our early season races appear to be vanishing this year. Some have been postponed, some have been canceled. I am not passing judgment just expressing my frustration in wanting to get some racing in. It is making it difficult to follow through on the plan that I made at the start of the season. At a minimum it requires me to be more flexible as to when I'm going to line up to do battle. I set out on work travel last week to Rochester, NY. At first when you hear that, you are at a loss for anything good to say about the locale. And, I will admit that there really is not a ton to do there but it is not half as bad as I thought it was going to be. I have heard that Rochester's Museum of Play is not bad for the family folk among us and the Eastman Kodak Museum has some great exhibitions throughout the year. However, when I am on travel I do not get the opportunity to check out things unless I get done really early. What I do get to enjoy is the local flavor. I refuse to eat at nationwide chains while on travel. Whenever possible I go out of my way to find something local and something off the beaten path. While driving from the airport to a meeting I ran across a little pizza joint called Perri's Pizza. It's classic New York pizza with counter service. I am not saying it was just like pizza down in NYC, but it is definitely better than any of the soggy-crusted pizza we have in DC. As a Chicagoan I can appreciate good pizza and I am not going to engage in a debate of what is the better style of pizza. Let's just put it this way, NYC pizza is better for lunch. Whereas Chicago pizza is the better style for dinner. These are just facts that should not be disputed.

Cowboy Boots

San Antonio surprised the heck out of me. I first found myself there a month ago and was blown away by how big the city actually is and what the city had to offer. Growing up in Naperville, with our own version, I had heard about the Riverwalk in San Antonio but had no idea what to expect. So I put on my cowboy boots and headed out to see what I can find.

I have had a fascination with Texas for as long as I could remember. I am not exactly sure what there is about the State but I really enjoy the food, music and culture, especially in central Texas. So when I knew I was heading down I was really charged because it had been a good long time since I have had some BBQ. Also, I knew I had to make my pilgrimage to the shrine of Texas itself-- the Alamo. Just being in this humble building was like walking into a center of pride; especially for a guy like me who grew up idealizing Davy Crockett to the point where my Grandmother made me a coonskin cap that I wore all over the place.

I was only gonna be there for a couple days so I did not bring the bike with me; but I can see how there would be great riding in the area. Despite a big downtown, it looks likes it would be easy to get on some lesser travel roads and eventually into the open country. And, with the hill country nearby I can only imagine the trouble someone could cause on two wheels. If I get the chance I am definitely gonna bring the bike.

The first time I was there I took in a classic Texas experience with a former teammate and his wife-- Rudy's. Having lived in the South I am familiar with the tradition of mixing bad for you food with gas stations. I loaded up a plate full of different meats, creamed corn and topped it off with some Lone Star. I do not care if the latter is Texas' version of Bud Lite; when I go native I really go native. The "Q" was as good as I remembered it.

The most recent time I was there I met up with a long-time cycling friend and the guru behind State Wheels at the Gristmill River Restaurant for some Chi-Friy and to discuss exactly why I love the wheels he builds. One of the great things about traveling as much as I do is the ability to keep connected with people and to experience all the country has to offer. The Gristmill is located right next to Gruene Hall, one of the oldest dance halls in Texas. I was told that on any given night you could find just about any one playing there including some of the biggest names in music. The food was great and, by the looks of things, that dance hall is definitely a place to head back to when I get my boots polished up.

Escaping the Cold: Valley of the Sun 2011

After a hiatus from travel and blogging (but never from racing) I returned to a faux pro lifestyle in the early Fall 2010. It's taken a while but I'm back in form and am ready to provide that bit of unique commentary that I have and to share the stories of racing and riding throughout this most beautiful country.

In D.C. we have languished under some pretty cold temperatures for most of the winter and I have found myself wearing my thermal jacket way too much this year. So when I had the opportunity to depose a witness down in Thatcher, AZ I jumped on the first plane I could. It happened that this trip would coincide with Valley of the Sun so I packed up the bike and my new set of State Cycling Wheels which I will demo for the first part of the season.

After a quick deposition and a stop at Pima-based Taylor Freeze for a remarkably cheap, delicious and greasy lunch, I made my way up to Phoenix for the start of bike racing season ver. 2.11. Valley of the Sun is a three-day stage race which features a flat time trial, hilly road race and a downtown criterium. Without a time trial bike I rolled the first stage and determined to hunt stages starting with the road race on day two.

ROAD RACE:

The road race consists of 16-mile triangular laps which feature a 4-mile 400 foot climb and corresponding descent into straight as an arrow valley road. The challenge to this year's race was the strong cross wind in the valley road which put everyone into the gutter. I rode well through the first lap until I felt that sinking feeling that corresponds with a flat rear wheel. I looked down and sure enough I was rolling on the rim and was about to launch into a 73-mile chase.

After a wheel change I dove into the headwind just in time to see the field turning into the cross wind about a mile ahead of me. Throughout the course of the race I picked up and passed shattered riders and formed a small groupetto that continued to chase. Eventually the effort wore us down and the chase finally went out of the group. We rolled in a good distance behind everyone else. When they say that its a dry heat in Arizona what they should say is that it is a heat that will suck all the water out of you so you better drink double what you are used to drinking. At the end of the race my legs were white from salt and my body was dehydrated beyond belief.

CRITERIUM:

The profile of the crit said it had a 40-foot elevation change so I was expecting a hill. What I got was a figure eight course flatter than my IHOP pancakes. With no large teams in the field it was negative racing at its best. Guys threw themselves off the front but each time they came rolling back through the field like a bowling ball heading downhill. After a brief second of toying with the idea of doing that myself, I settled in for a field sprint I had great position all the way through the race until about 3 laps to go. At that point in time I looked up and suddenly saw 50 guys in front of me and just about nobody behind me.

I have always been curious how this phenomenon happens. You roll in the top 10-20 guys for 25 miles and are vigilant about what is happening and where everyone is and it is as if you suddenly find yourself teleported back to the lantern rouge. I remedied my positioning problem with a few dives into a couple corners and was back into good position...just in time for some guy to flat right in front of me through a corner and nearly take out the middle part of the field right as we hit the ultimo kilometer. I scrubbed speed hard getting through his shaky line and found myself thrust to the back as we hit the final lap-- packfodder. I was not pleased with my result but pleased with the effort I put in up until that time.

After the races I visited two solid local spots: Los Olivos Cafe in Scottsdale and Monti's in Tempe. Definitely places to go to when you are in town. If you get to Los Olivos, which I've been to twice, ask for one particular server, she's been there for 56 years and has the greatest stories ever. This time I was served by her granddaughter who also works there

Solvang, California Days 3 & 4, Vineyards and Chris Carmichael

The weather turned on the third day and it started raining. I needed a lighter day and the hour-long recovery ride fit just perfectly. Rather than waste the day I made contact with the brother of a dear KS friend who works in valley managing vineyards. We met for an incredible lunch and then went around the Santa Rita Valley sampling some of the finest grapes that the land can offer. Surrounded by so much wine I just couldn't resist snapping a shot.

The fourth day was the big day for me. A ride without serious mountain climbs but with serious distance. We chose a route through the vineyards and down to the sea. Then we turned north and shadowed Vandenberg AFB and up and over Harris Grade before heading off to Santa Maria.

The way back was through some of the most beautiful canyon roads that I have ever seen. With blue skies above, the lush green of springtime California is eyepopping. Carmichael Training Systems has a camp in this valley and we've come across them a couple times, so it was nothing odd to see a lone CTS rider in the valley in front of us. We caught him at the base of a climb and struck up a conversation. We introduced ourselves and he introduced himself simply as "Chris" leaving it to us to realize that it was in fact Chris Carmichael.

We rode with him back into Los Olivos and then down into Solvang. It was a great time and we talked about everything. He was very pleasant and unpretentious and took his turn at the front of the paceline just like us all. Definitely the kind of guy that I'd love to have on my rides all the time.

Later that evening we headed up to San Luis Obispo to meet with the folks at Highroad. We had a great dinner and shared some incredible laughs under the stars. Just standing in the office of HTC Columbia was impressive. The office is a converted garage filled with leader's jerseys from every imaginable major race in the world. Being in such a room was like being in a miniature cycling museum.

Solvang Day Two: Into the Wild

After 7 hours and 8500 vertical feet of riding we thought we'd keep it easier today. So instead of two mountains we set off to conquer the 4500 feet of Figueroa Mtn. The sunshine of the previous day had given way to grey and overcast but the temperature was still in the 60s. It's always amazing to me how different 60 degrees feels in places that lack the humidity of D.C. because it was definitely a touch chilly at the start. Upon setting out on this march you cross a series of serene vineyards and horse farms. Nothing to hint to you of the mountain top monolith that awaits you. "Fig" as the locals call it, was a beast. We went up from what I guess would be the back side where the pavement was worse and where the road again gave way to dirt.

There appears to be a bunch of impromptu shooting ranges dotting the California forest. By impromptu I mean, two guys, a glock and some paper targets set up in front of a hillside. One of these was tossed in about 4 km into the climb which made for a pleasant distraction. Somewhere about 3 km from the top I began to crack and crack hard. I find it really heartwarming, and disheartening at times, when the road is painted with mile-to-go markers. I try to think to myself that someone was kind enough to think that it would help me focus, but there is always the ever present thought that if I find that person I will likely smack them around for the hours of conscious pain that they have brought upon me.

On the way back down we came across pastures of cows. As we rode by them I was reminded of the commercials about good cheese and happy cows coming from California. At this point we had been riding for about 3 hours and despite eating shot blok after shot blok I was still running pretty much on empty. My training partners out here swears by jelly beans (the cheap ones) and rides with a pocket full of them. Since he rode me off his wheel like I was standing still I imagine it would work. I'm definitely not above that, it's just at this point in time a cheeseburger was just what the doctor ordered.

The descent was perfect. Much better than the descents the day before. Wider and more open roads allowed us all to get up some decent speed. I've grown so accustomed to the descents back in Virginia that the California ones with their hundreds of switch backs are a pleasant distraction and a definite challenge. The weather isn't looking good for day 3 so we may just switch up the plans for a little vineyard touring.

Solvang, California: Training Camp Day One

I was fed up with the endless snow, cold and dullness of the mid-Atlantic this winter. So I got on a plane and came out to southern California to ride without thick gloves, without knickers, without 9 layers of clothes. Two days in and it's been great. My legs are exhausted, my body is cracking and I'm just getting warmed up.

The first day we set out on a path from where we were staying in Los Olivos down Refugio Rd and over to the coast. Before the base of the climb over the coastal mountains we came across a 60-year old man on a mountain bike. After we told him our route he asked if we had cross tires on our bikes. He kept warning that the road was closed and that it was all dirt on the way up. That gave us no pause.

About five miles in to the climb it became paved again right at the summit. Prior to that it was a mountain bike course. Most of our time was spent picking through the wet rocks. Thankfully and painfully our way was being led by a pro mountain biker. At the top we paused for a few minutes to dress for the descent and eat some food. The 60-year old came up the same path at the time and said that we must all be pros because we chose the best lines through the rocks. I didn't have the strength to tell him that it was just survival instinct for me.

The mud climb paid off in a great view of the Pacific Ocean and the channel islands beyond. The decent was gnarly and technical. I rode the breaks because the longest straight stretch was about 200 meters long. It dumped us off on the 101 right along the beach. We rode tempo into Goleta before turning our attention upwards over the San Marco pass.

San Marco pass gave way to Painted Cave Rd which 3000 feet above the nearby ocean started to cap out with these indian cave drawings. By this point in time I had been climbing for about 45 minutes. Despite standing there staring at the sign for about 5 minutes I have no idea what it said. At the top of the climb we came across a small community. In the driveway of one of these houses was a hippy holding his dog in his hands. As we passed by him he commented to the people standing next to him that "they say the path to peace lies through suffering." An unpleasant thought directed at him crossed through my mind at that point in time.

We rode along the ridge line above Santa Barbara for a while looking for a way down and then came upon this road. The one thing about google maps is that they don't distinguish between paved roads and their less paved counterparts; or in this case a road that really didn't exist at all. At the top of this road was a makeshift shooting range while at the bottom was trailer park. We road down 7.2 miles along what was in reality a horse path (complete with hoove marks) which at times had more grass on it than dirt. After reaching the bottom we decided to make a straight line for homebase.

When the World is White

Credit first goes to U2 for giving me inspiration for this post. It's snowing outside and I'm getting increasingly annoyed by the lack of opportunity to ride outdoors. I'm also annoyed by DC's complete inability to clear streets. I can understand the difficulty they are having but the pace of cleanup in the area is making the nation's capital the laughing stock of the nation . . . for more reasons than normal

It seems like most of my long riding is done when the weather is cold and this year most of that riding has been done will there is snow on the ground. Here are a couple pictures taken from recent rides, complete with snow.


What seems like an eternity ago I was able to go outside and ride my bike. I took this picture of the clothes that I wore on a day when the temperature was just above 20 degrees (and not the strange Euro 20 degrees which is really 60 degrees). In the summer I can get dressed in about 5 minutes and be out the door. In the winter it takes about 15 minutes. I miss summer.




During my recent individual training camp I discovered a new route from Marshall, VA which took me up and over Skyline Dr before descending back into the valley around Luray. For some reason the road was closed to cars that day so I had 30 miles of perfect open road with 3000 feet of climbing to myself. The 3400 feet up to Hogback Overlook is the highest that I've climbed on the east coast. About a year ago I climbed the 7000 feet up to the top of Mt. Mingus in northern Arizona, that's still my personal record (it was also snow covered).



Sometimes I forget how lucky I am to live where I do. On a recent week day ride I found myself at this point and snapped a quick picture. While it looks like a great pastoral image that could be taken anywhere in Loudoun County or beyond into West Virginia, it's actually taken in D.C. This was from Rock Creek Park and only about a 15-minute ride from this point back to my office in downtown.

Back to riding the trainer.

Statistics

The last math class I took was freshman year of college. I hated math. I bought an Srm and suddenly I love statistics. Five days of hard riding in the first training camp of the year are now in the books. Here are some statistics from that camp.

Total Number of Miles: 340 miles. Distance from D.C. to Pittsburgh, PA: 241 miles

Total Time on the Bike: 20 hours 19 minutes

Number of States Involved: 3-- Virginia, Maryland and West Virginia plus D.C. (Statehood Now)

Number of Civil War battlefields traversed: 4-- South Mountain, Antietam, Loudoun Heights and 2nd Manassas (the outskirts). Total number of American casualties at Antietam: 22,719 (single bloodiest day in American history).

Number of Mountains Climbed: 3-- South Mountain, Skyline Drive and Sugarloaf. Total Elevation Gain: 19,741 feet. Heighest point in the US: Mount McKinley-- 20,320 feet.

Total Calories Burned: 12,420 calories. Calories in a McDonald's Big Mac: 590 calories.

Total Number of Heart Beats: 162,246. My normal resting heart rate: 48 bpm.

Now for a rest day and then back to the normal life.

Reset

It's not often that in the course of any set of events that you get to hit the reset button and effectively send things back to the beginning. However, recently for me I was afforded that opportunity and I am trying to take full advantage of it. My work detail ended and before heading back to my full time job I decided to cash in on a little leave. I know, planning a cycling vacation in VA in January is not ideal but it's not called "use or lose" leave for nothing.

I'm taking a cyclin-cation right now. It's been three good days of riding with two more to go. It's an opportunity to focus on riding and relaxing and shaking off 6 months of hard workdays. Also, it's an opporutnity to start something new. I'm starting a new project that I will carry through the remainder of the season.

I've run across a lot of strange things in my days on the bike. Odd things that most people don't see like strange signs, passionistic nuns, roadside porn and on and on. These oddies are the byproduct of being in places that people don't often go and also being focused more on the journey rather than the destination. My project this year is to put together a photo album of those odd encounters and the great company that I keep while riding and racing my bike. There is no specific theme or goal. It's just a collection of pictures about the miles as they tick over and over. In the end it's just a story about a story.

I'll post pictures here from time to time; and if you see anything out there that is noteworthy let me know and I'll go find it too.

Setbacks

It's natural that everyone experiences a setback, eventually. The key is how to deal with those setbacks when you come across them. The holiday season presents a set of challenges to training just as it does to all other aspects of life. There are new and different demands on time, changes in schedules and additional stress. However, despite what I often times say, life is more than just the aggregate of miles that I ride. Therefore, it is more aptly put that between family, friends and frivolity; the holiday seasons presents a series of pleasant challenges.


Adam and I planned out our approach to this time of year very well. Unfortunately nature didn't agree with our approach and dumped 20 inches of snow on the mid-Atlantic. Washington, D.C. is terrible with snow removal when there are only a couple centimeters on the ground. So when there was almost two feet of snow I had to resign myself to the fact that the streets wouldn't be cleared enough to keep putting in the intense efforts that we had planned on. Then DC was hit was an epic cold snap that has made everyone's desire to even go outside small.


We've ramped things back up over the week and will continue to do so in the coming week, especially with a small vacation from work next week. However, it's clear that I lost something as a result of mother nature's recent onslaught of cold weather and snow. Now it's time to gather the chips and get back to basics. My work detail is ending this week and I am scheduled to return to a more balanced life. A lot of changes are on their way and I'm heading back out into the world.

Setbacks in the end are just an opportunity to get back to what was working.

Pain Face

Like him or don't like him, the above picture of Lance is a fitting one for my topic-suffering. Few bike racers in the last twenty years have suffered as well or as much as he has in the pursuit of athletic immortality. His grimace of absolute determination is something that to some extent all of us who ever clipped into a set of pedals and raced our bikes share. The fact that your pain face comes out 400 or 2000 watts beneath his is immaterial because inside your mind and body the pain feels the same.

Our individual expressions of pain are different. For my part I've been told that I my expression is rather expressionless. One of my teammates has gone so far as to say that my body and face don't betray the true extent of the pain that I am feeling. In his words my expression stays the same despite an ever increasing level of effort. To me it doesn't feel like it but I'll rely on his representation.

There is something inherently pure about athletic suffering. It has its own therapeutic properties. As the pain grows and your muscles scream out there is a cleansing. Maybe this is something unique to me but as my effort increases my perception grows tighter. My world pulls inward and my focus reaches a laser focus. What matters becomes more finite and easier to distinguish. The remainder of the world fades into the background and eventually all that remains is my will to push harder.

Tonight I found this highlighted even more. There is something distinctive about training in cold weather that heightens this experience. The juxtaposition of the cold world against warm skin makes me feel the moment...more. More distinctively, more strongly, more completely. As a parting note if you ever have any doubt whether Washington, D.C., is a beautiful city. Just take a quick ride around the Mall at night. It is beautiful and looks just the way a capital city should.

Winter Training Update

One of the greatest privileges of my life has been to serve as a prosecutor in the District of Columbia. The police officers and the people that I work with make it all worthwhile and the cause of justice is one of the most noble that I have pursued in my life.. However, the workload is staggering. There were times in October when we were understaffed and I was easily working 12 hours a day. Even now with a full staff I work over 10 hours on an easy day and when I'm in court that time goes up and up.

This has left little ability for me to get out in the middle of the day as I had been accustomed. I tried and struggled to maintain that same pattern but about a month ago I threw that idea away and went back to a workout plan that I had grown used to back in Mississippi. Back then I rode in the mornings before work in the dim light of a dixie morning. I cannot do that now because I have to be at work early and I would have to wake up around midnight in order to do so.

So I've taken to riding in the pitch black of night after work. A small island in the middle of the Potomac River with a 3 mile loop that's largely absent of cars has become my destination of choice. So the moon, the river, a couple fox and myself have become well acquianted. Finally life has started to settle back into a predictable pattern. The repetitive nature of the route and the time of the day has limited the time that I can dedicate to training but Adam and I have worked out a solid program.

Riding at night does mean that I have to equip myself appropriately and the folks at Light & Motion make a great line of lights that I have been using. There is an additional serenity to suffering through intervals at night. The world seems to close in on me as the minutes and miles click by. There is an acute awareness of the details of my muscles that have helped me focus.

Bike racing is a social enterprise; however training is often a solitary task. Amongst moonlight and under the watchful eyes of Presidents and beneath the towering heights of the Capitol I push myself. All to prove that person can succeed at more than one aspect of their life at a time. The misson is simple but the path is hard. It begins now.

Training When it's Dark, Cold and Raining

Most days of the week I am blessed with the opportunity of getting out on my bike during the work day. Normally I get to ride during or right after what is most people's lunch. The nice thing about being an federal prosecutor is that you don't have clients and when you work with law enforcement they work 24/7 so you can reach most of them at any time of the day. That allows for some flexibility in life.

That being said, I still find myself in a courtroom brawl every now and again which stops me from getting out, like today. Mother Nature's persistent rain didn't ease the situation either today. These are the days that I end up on the trainer fighting against boredom and trying to ride hard enough and long enough that I can make it to the next day outside. I'm not sure what it is about the trainer that makes doing intervals so hard on my leg muscles. Maybe it's the artifical resistance or the slightly different position but I find my legs fatiguing a long time before my endurance systems do. It's like a weight workout built into a cardio workout.

Adam and I are working through the growing pains of a new job, a new schedule and a new training regime. It's a painful adjustment but one that is working out. Life is about making choices. I know a lot of people say that they don't have time for this or for that, but there is always time. It's a matter of prioritizing and making a decision to make certain things important to yourself and then having the support of those around you to carry it out.

When I took this new position it was about gaining trial experience and getting comfortable on my feet in court. Those two things have definitely happened, but on top of that I'm learning how to prioritize things in my life as well. It's a hyper-focus that I hope makes me a better bike racer. Or at the least, I hope it can be proof to others around me that you can work 12 hours a day and still be an elite athlete. All it takes is persistence and a lot of good coaching.

What do I do Now?

One race left on the calendar and then it's all over for the season. My legs are done in from 41 previous races but my heart still wants to race. There will be no cross racing for me this year because despite my heart's desires, my wallet says no. So what do I do next? Normally my season ends with a flourish, in the past it was normally Gateway Cup or another multi-day race. However, St. Louis was a little too far away this year for me to go, especially with a new job that hasn't been fully broken in yet.

It's also a little too early to start thinking about next year. Maybe just the most preliminary thoughts about what big races to think about. However, these preliminary thoughts will probably change about 50 times before next month. Maybe, now is just the time to reflect on a good season and goals accomplished? Heck, I've been an athlete too long to think that contentment is a good feeling when it comes to getting better. So I guess now is the time to think about what I can do better. . . what happened this year that worked and what didn't work. Also, maybe it's time to finally fix my time trial bike so that it actually works the way it is supposed to work.

Overcoming Panic

It's been a month and a half since starting my new/temporary job. It's been an up and down ride and the transition has been...a transition. This has been a pivotal weekend for me and it feels like I've left the Belgian pavee for a little bit of Mississippi chip and seal. It's a welcome sight and my body can feel a more comfortable ride ahead.


After a rocky start to being a Cat 2 at Millersburg, today's race at Jason Gundel was a marked improvement. It didn't start out that well for me, when on the third lap I found the only unmarked pothole on the road, hit it, and turned my handlebars 30 degrees down. This forced me up to the pit. But I got back in the race and finally found my legs again.


The hill on the backside of the course at Gundel was of the type that normally would make my day unpleasant; today that wasn't the case. My finish was nothing spectacular but it was a finish. After peaking no fewer than a million times this season, my training as of late has been a consistent and I've been able to put together decent miles over the last month.


However, for about a month I've been in a state of near panic, my nerves have been at their peak and I've been having trouble getting back into a comfortable schedule. However, late this week I came to an understanding with myself and my job. I realize the two can be reconciled, which is itself a relief. As my fellow bike racers can testify to, by this point in time we've all drank the Kool-Aid. We've made the decision to sacrifice other aspects of our lives for the sport.

Those that love and care for us understand this point. However, explaining these things to an employer is a different story. Suggestions on how to improve are always appreciated. My position has always been that personal lives and professional lives have to be balanced. My grandfather always said everything in moderation. I'm not one of those guys who will work 60 hours a week for the sake of working 60 hours a week. I'm also not one of those guys who will shut down his computer at 4:59 PM just because I don't want to be late for the metro. The same with bike racing and being with friends and family. There is a constant give and take but finding that balance is a tough thing, especially at the start of things. So here is to week two of finding balance.