Not too long ago, my wife and I were talking about what we want to be. Not when we grow up, but how we want people around us to see us. I told her that I want to be just like Reed Palmer. I want to be known as the neighborhood bike guy that all the kids come to when their bikes aren't working right. We're already the most crowded yard in the neighborhood, so I have the clientele right outside.
Lately I've been feeling down. I'm going through a cycle where people crap on whatever I do. My work, my writing, my choices, whatever it is, someone, co-workers, clients, friends, family will find a way to take something I feel good about and make me feel like crap. People don't mean to do it, but when all you hear is "constructive" criticism about everything you do from the time you get up to the time the wife and kids come home and remind me what it feels like to be liked.
Today that turned around. I was about to do the dishes when I heard a knock at the door. It was the kid whose backyard meets ours. Figuring he was here to see my daughter, I started to tease him.
"I have a problem that only you can help me with."
These are not words you long to hear. Nine times out of ten the problem is either something you didn't want to know about or will only lead to someone being disappointed.
"What's up," I asked.
"My brother trashed his bike. I told him that you are the best bike rider I've ever seen and you can fix it." True, I did fix this kid's bike last summer, but that was just an easy adjustment. "Trashed?" This worried me.
But, flattery gets you everywhere so this great bike rider said sure. We wheeled the bike into the garage and I put it on the repair stand. The neighbor kid went through the story. His brother crashed and now the handlebars were all messed up and the chain keeps falling off. I quickly fixed the handlebars and then started looking at the chain. It would spin, start to drag and fall off. Hmm.
I started going through the diagnostics I could think of and was ruling everything out. The front derailleur was fine. The chain rings were all okay. Neighbor kid said he needed to call his mom because he forgot to tell her where he was.
"Hi tell Mom I'm at Matilda's. Yeah. I told you he can fix it. Yeah, the handlebars are already fixed and he's working on the chain. No, he can ride really fast it's amazing. He'll fix it. He can do anything with bikes!"
Now, this isn't true. My repair skills are rudimentary at best. But now I had to perform. An eleven-year-old and a fourteen-year-old are depending on me.
Just then, we found the problem. One of the links on the chain was bent. And it was rusty. It was a kid's bike after all. Well, I had another chain, by luck. So I scavenged it and . . . popped the pin all the way out. That was bad. But it needed to be shortened anyway.
I slapped the new chain on, adjusted its length and . . . it fixed the problem. I cleaned up the chain and the cassette a little (it's a Target bike, so I could only do so much). I wanted to double check the length on the chain, but he had to go home. So I told him to come back tomorrow because I had to take out another link.
"Thanks! We'll pay you for fixing it."
"Nah," I said. "I'm just happy that your brother will have his bike back."
"He'll be happy too! Thanks!"
And he was off. So, in about an half hour's time I was able to be a hero and was called the greatest bike rider some kid has ever seen.
I know I'm not a great cyclist. But, you know what? To an eleven-year-old I probably really do seem like Lance Armstrong when I go speeding through the neighborhood in my ESP team kit. And, you know what? That's good enough for me.
Showing posts with label cycling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cycling. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Brilliance in Retrospect
I went for a ride today. It was in the mid seventies. Why not? I slapped on some shorts, a jersey and my new socks that I love so much (though, honestly, the website said they were charcoal gray and they are black . . . I look like a grandpa).
I go outside and start loading up. Breeze, but not windy. The weather said winds would be 5 - 10 mph. I can handle that. So off I go. I get to the lake and look at the flag. It's blowing, but not too stiff. I can handle that. I turn my bike, point toward the south and start riding in earnest. Wind is tough, but not too tough.
I turn toward the west, no let up in the wind. Hmm. Crosswind. I turn to the North and have a brief respite. Of course I only go north for about 1/4 of a mile. Head back toward East. Crosswind again. Turn south and WHAM. The wind has picked up. Damn.
Obviously this route is a bad idea, I think. I do some calculating and figure that if I go over the river I'll mostly be heading Northwest. That's good. So I go. The ramp to get over to the flats was a bitch. The wind was blowing straight across and the higher up I got, the harder it was to pedal. I know my limits, so I backed off and just took it easy up the hill.
At least, I thought I knew my limits.
Going across the flood plains I didn't exactly have a tailwind, but it was close enough. It was maybe a 20 degree crosswind that gave me a little boost. Circle the ramp up to the bridge and as soon as I'm facing North again, WHAM, that wall of wind. It's okay, I think, the ride back will be Southeast. I'll be okay. Stopped off on the western side of the river, had a goo and went on my way.
The bridge was windy, but not TOO windy. But, as soon as I was off the bridge it was like stepping into a bubbling Hell broth. I realized that the wall on the bridge was shielding me from the full force of the wind.
It's four miles back to the lake from the river. Normally, that's not a bad ride and because it's the river flats I can usually cover it in well under 15 minutes. Today was another story. Slowly my gears kept getting lower and lower and lower and the wind kept getting higher and higher and higher. Those four miles felt like an eternity. I imagine this is a fraction of what a time trial feels like. I don't want to ride a time trial.
Now, here's the thing, I wasn't even trying to go fast. I wasn't fighting the wind. I was trying to conserve energy, but it was still kicking my ass.
I finally get to the last mile until I'm back out of the flats. I turn left to go up the hill and over an overpass. I figure the wind will let up. No, that damn crosswind again. I battled my way up that hill. And it's not that big a hill.
Luckily, my ride home was with a bit of the tailwind. But when I was done I was shaking. Only 21 miles. I didn't even ride hard the whole time and I was still really suffering. But the wind showed me who was boss. I was left wondering how the hell the pros race with winds like that. They do. And they still go faster than my top average speed. Bastards.
Now, sitting here, my legs are very angry at me. But what hurts most are my arms. I guess when I was gritting my teeth and trying to ride I got a little overzealous with my grip.
Verdict: I hate nature.
I go outside and start loading up. Breeze, but not windy. The weather said winds would be 5 - 10 mph. I can handle that. So off I go. I get to the lake and look at the flag. It's blowing, but not too stiff. I can handle that. I turn my bike, point toward the south and start riding in earnest. Wind is tough, but not too tough.
I turn toward the west, no let up in the wind. Hmm. Crosswind. I turn to the North and have a brief respite. Of course I only go north for about 1/4 of a mile. Head back toward East. Crosswind again. Turn south and WHAM. The wind has picked up. Damn.
Obviously this route is a bad idea, I think. I do some calculating and figure that if I go over the river I'll mostly be heading Northwest. That's good. So I go. The ramp to get over to the flats was a bitch. The wind was blowing straight across and the higher up I got, the harder it was to pedal. I know my limits, so I backed off and just took it easy up the hill.
At least, I thought I knew my limits.
Going across the flood plains I didn't exactly have a tailwind, but it was close enough. It was maybe a 20 degree crosswind that gave me a little boost. Circle the ramp up to the bridge and as soon as I'm facing North again, WHAM, that wall of wind. It's okay, I think, the ride back will be Southeast. I'll be okay. Stopped off on the western side of the river, had a goo and went on my way.
The bridge was windy, but not TOO windy. But, as soon as I was off the bridge it was like stepping into a bubbling Hell broth. I realized that the wall on the bridge was shielding me from the full force of the wind.
It's four miles back to the lake from the river. Normally, that's not a bad ride and because it's the river flats I can usually cover it in well under 15 minutes. Today was another story. Slowly my gears kept getting lower and lower and lower and the wind kept getting higher and higher and higher. Those four miles felt like an eternity. I imagine this is a fraction of what a time trial feels like. I don't want to ride a time trial.
Now, here's the thing, I wasn't even trying to go fast. I wasn't fighting the wind. I was trying to conserve energy, but it was still kicking my ass.
I finally get to the last mile until I'm back out of the flats. I turn left to go up the hill and over an overpass. I figure the wind will let up. No, that damn crosswind again. I battled my way up that hill. And it's not that big a hill.
Luckily, my ride home was with a bit of the tailwind. But when I was done I was shaking. Only 21 miles. I didn't even ride hard the whole time and I was still really suffering. But the wind showed me who was boss. I was left wondering how the hell the pros race with winds like that. They do. And they still go faster than my top average speed. Bastards.
Now, sitting here, my legs are very angry at me. But what hurts most are my arms. I guess when I was gritting my teeth and trying to ride I got a little overzealous with my grip.
Verdict: I hate nature.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Broken Bicycles
In just two short months, after a very long winter, Floyd Landis will finally see his USADA hearing occur. Of course, Floyd is accused of taking testosterone during the Tour de France, putting his heroic ride into Morzine into the realm of infamy in the sport.
Why should you care about a dirty cheater in a sport that doesn’t even appear of the radar of most sports fans? Because, what happens to Floyd could signal a major change in the fight against doping for future athletes.
For the record, I believe Floyd. I’ll get into that later. However, I never rule out the chance of being wrong. I simply do not know. Outside of Floyd, if he doped, someone else knows the truth because he would have needed help in dosing, administering and deciding when, how and what to use for doping. Despite how the current system is set up, focusing on the athlete and only the athlete, no one dopes alone. The culture of doping must be dealt with and focused on, not just swinging a punitive hammer at the cheaters.
But that’s beside the point here. The point is you need to educate yourself about this case. Floyd’s hearing will be open to the public, though we’re still not sure exactly how open it will be as that is under discussion, but you will have unprecedented access to the proceedings. Floyd maintains his innocence and questions the way that the USADA and WADA approach their cases. He has raised very important questions about how fair the process is for the accused because, as it has been printed in many forums, there is no room for a mistake. According to the USADA and WADA mistakes simply do not happen. Ergo, no matter what, the athlete is guilty. Floyd seeks truth but feels that the ADAs seek “wins”.
So, yes, educate yourself. Find out what’s going on, what Floyd is claiming, what the ADAs are claiming and what the fans are saying. Amazingly, Floyd has a lot of support. But he also has a lot of detractors. Though many people believe this is a black and white case (i.e. he cheated, end of story) that’s not quite the full story. Don’t be fooled. Everyone one has an agenda and is acting in their own interest. Including Floyd, the UCI, the USADA, WADA and anyone else involved.
Get more of the story than you can get in a newspaper blurb. Documents are available. Arguments, PowerPoint presentations, rulebooks, codes, scientific discourse, procedural discussions are all available for you to read, interpret and discover whether or not Floyd is not only guilty but if his quest for fairness is just and admirable.
There are some great sources for Floyd information and I urge you to use them. Read, digest and understand before you judge:
Floyd Landis – The official site. Where Floyd is, where he’s going and what’s up with his hip.
Floyd Fairness Fund – Floyd’s group dedicated to getting him a fair shot and, ultimately, helping other athletes who may have been sucked into the system unfairly. Also, if you’re looking for documents, you’ll find them here. Including The PowerPoint you’ll hear so much about.
WADA – They write the codes that make the whole world sign.
USADA – They enforce the WADA code in the US. In addition to working with cyclists and other professional organizations, they’ve also been in charge of all Olympic sport testing since October of 2000. If you are interested in a sport, odds are the USADA is testing athletes at some level.
The UCI – The governing body of cycling. They are, apparently, working on a new double-secret probation anti-doping program that, from what I understand, is really expensive. No word on if it works or if it is simply another way of doing the same thing with similar results.
Landis Wiki – If it’s been hashed out, peed in, put in a test tube or floated as a possibility then it’s been documented here.
The Daily Peloton Forums – Where the discussion really started in earnest. Mostly intelligent discourse looking at the very minutiae of all the claims by all the key players. However, given enough time, the “ignorant slut” comments come out.
LA Times – Series on Landis, USADA and other doping concerns. I’m sure I missed one: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Chat Transcript
Rant Your Head Off -Well-written, deeply considered points on Landis, doping and the policies, procedures and chest thumping that surrounds it all.
And, of course, the Main Course:
Trust But Verify – The clearinghouse for all Landis content. If it’s said by, about, for, against or in reference to Floyd Landis it is here. Including the very important run downs, timelines, glossaries and more. This is THE place to go for any development big or small. Always on time, always concise and usually funny:
Timeline of Events
Current Status (includes a great graphic of the possible path of the proceedings)
Key References
Glossary
And the first in a series called Judging Floyd, written with an actual guy who not only has a law degree but is an actual judge. With a robe and everything. Very official.
Now, why do I believe Floyd? I’ve gone over this before, but I feel it’s important to explain why. I’ve read what I can of the documents (I don’t speak French, so in many cases I’ve had to rely on the kindness of strangers), I’ve reviewed all revisions of the PowerPoints, read the articles, the discussions, the arguments, the debates, wandered through the codes, listened to debates of positivity criteria, scientific minutiae, etc. Listened to, and found valid, arguments from all sides. And that has helped shaped my understanding of the case and how I view it. But there’s more.
At this point what does Floyd stand to gain out of all of this? His money is quickly depleting, he’s lost out on pretty much every opportunity that comes with a Tour de France win, he cannot race and even if he’s cleared, he may be treated as a tainted commodity by many of the Pro Tour teams. It’s quite possible that even if he is cleared, he may still be barred from racing in France. Plus, in cycling, he’s no spring chicken anymore and would be entering the tail end of his career no matter what. Of course, the tail end is frequently the best for many cyclists. He’s already lost out on the opportunities, the criteriums, the sponsorship options, PR appearances, etc.
He’s lost friends, supporters and is indirectly responsible for 40 or so people losing their jobs. Everything I’ve come to know about Floyd Landis tells me that being responsible for the destruction of a team and other people losing their livelihoods would not be something he can ignore for his own advantage.
So what does he have to gain besides proving to the world that he is not a cheater? There is no money in this, only bills. There is no glory in becoming the Curt Flood of athlete rights. There is no sponsorship opportunity at the end of the rainbow and there is no team contract sitting in a drawer waiting for his name to be cleared.
Unlike many of the doping cases, this feels like a fight for honor. Floyd cannot truly win this case. He may be cleared of wrong doing, he may be let off on a “technicality” (don’t get started on that rabbit hole of a term—because it’s a misnomer and a red herring). Floyd is not the type of man who would risk the welfare of his family for a bogus fight. I simply cannot believe he would do that. I cannot speak of his morality because I do not know him personally, but what I’ve seen of him very little matters more than Amber and his family.
I may be naïve. I may be wrong. I may be stupid. That’s fine. But, for me, this is a human story. It’s not just about cheating. It’s about a man who believes he has been wronged, that his family has been put into crisis and that he can do something about it by standing up and fighting for his reputation.
Believe him or not. That’s okay. But at least understand and know. Educate yourself and make an informed decision. You have two months before arbitrators hear and discuss this case and before the media press begins anew. Make yourself aware.
Then decide.
Now if you'll excuse me I have to go suit up for a ride.
Why should you care about a dirty cheater in a sport that doesn’t even appear of the radar of most sports fans? Because, what happens to Floyd could signal a major change in the fight against doping for future athletes.
For the record, I believe Floyd. I’ll get into that later. However, I never rule out the chance of being wrong. I simply do not know. Outside of Floyd, if he doped, someone else knows the truth because he would have needed help in dosing, administering and deciding when, how and what to use for doping. Despite how the current system is set up, focusing on the athlete and only the athlete, no one dopes alone. The culture of doping must be dealt with and focused on, not just swinging a punitive hammer at the cheaters.
But that’s beside the point here. The point is you need to educate yourself about this case. Floyd’s hearing will be open to the public, though we’re still not sure exactly how open it will be as that is under discussion, but you will have unprecedented access to the proceedings. Floyd maintains his innocence and questions the way that the USADA and WADA approach their cases. He has raised very important questions about how fair the process is for the accused because, as it has been printed in many forums, there is no room for a mistake. According to the USADA and WADA mistakes simply do not happen. Ergo, no matter what, the athlete is guilty. Floyd seeks truth but feels that the ADAs seek “wins”.
So, yes, educate yourself. Find out what’s going on, what Floyd is claiming, what the ADAs are claiming and what the fans are saying. Amazingly, Floyd has a lot of support. But he also has a lot of detractors. Though many people believe this is a black and white case (i.e. he cheated, end of story) that’s not quite the full story. Don’t be fooled. Everyone one has an agenda and is acting in their own interest. Including Floyd, the UCI, the USADA, WADA and anyone else involved.
Get more of the story than you can get in a newspaper blurb. Documents are available. Arguments, PowerPoint presentations, rulebooks, codes, scientific discourse, procedural discussions are all available for you to read, interpret and discover whether or not Floyd is not only guilty but if his quest for fairness is just and admirable.
There are some great sources for Floyd information and I urge you to use them. Read, digest and understand before you judge:
Floyd Landis – The official site. Where Floyd is, where he’s going and what’s up with his hip.
Floyd Fairness Fund – Floyd’s group dedicated to getting him a fair shot and, ultimately, helping other athletes who may have been sucked into the system unfairly. Also, if you’re looking for documents, you’ll find them here. Including The PowerPoint you’ll hear so much about.
WADA – They write the codes that make the whole world sign.
USADA – They enforce the WADA code in the US. In addition to working with cyclists and other professional organizations, they’ve also been in charge of all Olympic sport testing since October of 2000. If you are interested in a sport, odds are the USADA is testing athletes at some level.
The UCI – The governing body of cycling. They are, apparently, working on a new double-secret probation anti-doping program that, from what I understand, is really expensive. No word on if it works or if it is simply another way of doing the same thing with similar results.
Landis Wiki – If it’s been hashed out, peed in, put in a test tube or floated as a possibility then it’s been documented here.
The Daily Peloton Forums – Where the discussion really started in earnest. Mostly intelligent discourse looking at the very minutiae of all the claims by all the key players. However, given enough time, the “ignorant slut” comments come out.
LA Times – Series on Landis, USADA and other doping concerns. I’m sure I missed one: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Chat Transcript
Rant Your Head Off -Well-written, deeply considered points on Landis, doping and the policies, procedures and chest thumping that surrounds it all.
And, of course, the Main Course:
Trust But Verify – The clearinghouse for all Landis content. If it’s said by, about, for, against or in reference to Floyd Landis it is here. Including the very important run downs, timelines, glossaries and more. This is THE place to go for any development big or small. Always on time, always concise and usually funny:
Timeline of Events
Current Status (includes a great graphic of the possible path of the proceedings)
Key References
Glossary
And the first in a series called Judging Floyd, written with an actual guy who not only has a law degree but is an actual judge. With a robe and everything. Very official.
Now, why do I believe Floyd? I’ve gone over this before, but I feel it’s important to explain why. I’ve read what I can of the documents (I don’t speak French, so in many cases I’ve had to rely on the kindness of strangers), I’ve reviewed all revisions of the PowerPoints, read the articles, the discussions, the arguments, the debates, wandered through the codes, listened to debates of positivity criteria, scientific minutiae, etc. Listened to, and found valid, arguments from all sides. And that has helped shaped my understanding of the case and how I view it. But there’s more.
At this point what does Floyd stand to gain out of all of this? His money is quickly depleting, he’s lost out on pretty much every opportunity that comes with a Tour de France win, he cannot race and even if he’s cleared, he may be treated as a tainted commodity by many of the Pro Tour teams. It’s quite possible that even if he is cleared, he may still be barred from racing in France. Plus, in cycling, he’s no spring chicken anymore and would be entering the tail end of his career no matter what. Of course, the tail end is frequently the best for many cyclists. He’s already lost out on the opportunities, the criteriums, the sponsorship options, PR appearances, etc.
He’s lost friends, supporters and is indirectly responsible for 40 or so people losing their jobs. Everything I’ve come to know about Floyd Landis tells me that being responsible for the destruction of a team and other people losing their livelihoods would not be something he can ignore for his own advantage.
So what does he have to gain besides proving to the world that he is not a cheater? There is no money in this, only bills. There is no glory in becoming the Curt Flood of athlete rights. There is no sponsorship opportunity at the end of the rainbow and there is no team contract sitting in a drawer waiting for his name to be cleared.
Unlike many of the doping cases, this feels like a fight for honor. Floyd cannot truly win this case. He may be cleared of wrong doing, he may be let off on a “technicality” (don’t get started on that rabbit hole of a term—because it’s a misnomer and a red herring). Floyd is not the type of man who would risk the welfare of his family for a bogus fight. I simply cannot believe he would do that. I cannot speak of his morality because I do not know him personally, but what I’ve seen of him very little matters more than Amber and his family.
I may be naïve. I may be wrong. I may be stupid. That’s fine. But, for me, this is a human story. It’s not just about cheating. It’s about a man who believes he has been wronged, that his family has been put into crisis and that he can do something about it by standing up and fighting for his reputation.
Believe him or not. That’s okay. But at least understand and know. Educate yourself and make an informed decision. You have two months before arbitrators hear and discuss this case and before the media press begins anew. Make yourself aware.
Then decide.
Now if you'll excuse me I have to go suit up for a ride.
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Friday, March 02, 2007
Irony Coincidence, Thou Art a Fickle Bitch Person With a Sardonic Sense of Humor
So, I've been kind of railing on the USADA about what I view as sloppy work, violations of its own rules, and needlessly prolonging the Floyd Landis case. And, of course, I think they are on shaky ground with Mr. Landis and are on a path to reform . . . which is a good thing.
So, after all my whining, all my criticisms guess who I am going to have to deal with as a bit player on one of my projects? Oh, yes, the USADA. I need to confirm information for a textbook on, guess what? Testing protocols, documentation, procedures, TUAs, the entire process and permission to reprint certain things will all be discussed.
Funny, ain't it? I've been working on textbooks like this for over a decade now and this is the first time my real life and one of my projects have ever cruelly crossed in such a way.
I wonder if I can quietly slip in a Landis question during our discussions . . . Damn my wish to keep my projects. Otherwise I would ask completely inappropriate questions.
So, after all my whining, all my criticisms guess who I am going to have to deal with as a bit player on one of my projects? Oh, yes, the USADA. I need to confirm information for a textbook on, guess what? Testing protocols, documentation, procedures, TUAs, the entire process and permission to reprint certain things will all be discussed.
Funny, ain't it? I've been working on textbooks like this for over a decade now and this is the first time my real life and one of my projects have ever cruelly crossed in such a way.
I wonder if I can quietly slip in a Landis question during our discussions . . . Damn my wish to keep my projects. Otherwise I would ask completely inappropriate questions.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
My New Favorite Cycling Team
Apparently I've been in an exceedingly bad mood the last week. Not sure why. I feel stressed and frustrated by everything. If this damned weather would clear up I'd have a better outlet for my pent up feelings. As it stands it's hard to get a refreshingly good ride in my bedroom. Plus, working from home doesn't provide a lot of outlets. I have a good, strong cup of coffee and pent up ire. I feel sorry for the Fed Ex guy.
I was planning on riding today but the winds are supposed to get gusty up to 30 mph. I might still go out, but it won't be a good ride by any definition. In fact, I can already feel the pain. And not the satisfying, good kind. Rather, it's the teeth gritting, praying that your muscles and ligaments are not actually separating from your bones type of pain. The fact that I consider it an option may clue you into the bizarre workings of my mind.
I'll do better. I promise. I'm listening to a mix of angry music that starts out with Pete Townshend yelling at an audience to shut up because this is a rock show, not a tea party. He peppers in a few expletives that spice it up. But, because this is a family website, I'm sure as shit not going to repeat that kind of language. No fucking way. I'm above it.
Now it's playing "Godzilla" by Blue Oyster Cult. I'm in a classic rock mood lately.
Anyway, I found my new favorite cycling team. I want to buy the jersey, but they are out of stock:
Worse, I was going to buy a t-shirt, but their purchasing function is broken:
Oh well. More fuel for the ire, I guess. By the way, you think that guy could have a few more veins in his arms? He looks like a heroin addict's wet dream. "Wow, if I had veins like that I could be like Keith Richards and William S. Burroughs combined! I'd be Superjunkie!"
Okay. That was wrong.
I was planning on riding today but the winds are supposed to get gusty up to 30 mph. I might still go out, but it won't be a good ride by any definition. In fact, I can already feel the pain. And not the satisfying, good kind. Rather, it's the teeth gritting, praying that your muscles and ligaments are not actually separating from your bones type of pain. The fact that I consider it an option may clue you into the bizarre workings of my mind.
I'll do better. I promise. I'm listening to a mix of angry music that starts out with Pete Townshend yelling at an audience to shut up because this is a rock show, not a tea party. He peppers in a few expletives that spice it up. But, because this is a family website, I'm sure as shit not going to repeat that kind of language. No fucking way. I'm above it.
Now it's playing "Godzilla" by Blue Oyster Cult. I'm in a classic rock mood lately.
Anyway, I found my new favorite cycling team. I want to buy the jersey, but they are out of stock:
Worse, I was going to buy a t-shirt, but their purchasing function is broken:
Oh well. More fuel for the ire, I guess. By the way, you think that guy could have a few more veins in his arms? He looks like a heroin addict's wet dream. "Wow, if I had veins like that I could be like Keith Richards and William S. Burroughs combined! I'd be Superjunkie!"
Okay. That was wrong.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
My Trainer Hates Me
We just got a new trainer. We moved from magnetic to fluid. Fluid resistance is progressive resistance. Meaning, the harder you go the harder it is to pedal. Kind of like riding against gravity. My old nemesis.
In one sense, the trainer is great. Gives a nice workout. Breathed new life into old and boring training programs. I'll find the sweet spots where I'm going as hard as I can without feeling like someone is pulling my muscles out and flogging me with them.
In a word . . . OW.
But in a good way. It will help me work on my weak spots. I'll consider this a rebuilding. We have the technology. I'll be that man. Better than I was before. Better, stronger, faster.
In one sense, the trainer is great. Gives a nice workout. Breathed new life into old and boring training programs. I'll find the sweet spots where I'm going as hard as I can without feeling like someone is pulling my muscles out and flogging me with them.
In a word . . . OW.
But in a good way. It will help me work on my weak spots. I'll consider this a rebuilding. We have the technology. I'll be that man. Better than I was before. Better, stronger, faster.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Ahhhh . . . The Outdoors
I was able to ride outside today. Hooray. It has been a while. I'm not much of a cold-weather rider, so it's been a month or two since I'd been on actual asphalt. It was great.
It was warmer, but everything was not quite spring yet. The lake was still frozen:
In fact, the trail warned you that you could die. Awesome.
The trail was actually pretty clean, except for the bridge. The shoulders on the road, however, were littered with all sorts of crap.
Coming back down the ramp you could see a smaller section of the water way and how it's still frozen solid.
And the creek that feeds it:
Rinse and repeat for the next few days before we get a new blast of winter. Conclusions? Love my new tires. Bike's riding great. Me? Not as much. Seems that the first thing to go after some time off the road is handling. I was all over the place. Naturally, there was a drop in speed, but I felt like the endurance level was up from where I switched to indoor training. On familiar hills it took longer for me to bottom out than usual. Even in the chilly air, which usually makes my lungs hurt like hell. Ah, lungs.
And my nemesis was out. He rides for a local racing team and, I swear, the man has no joy. No joy at all. Plus he seems to have the same schedule and route as me. what's up with that? Maybe I'll start sticking my tongue out at him. As someone recently said, cyclists aren't noted for their upper body strength so I think I might have a chance in a slap fight. Though he has the long golden mane of hair. Which makes me hate him even more.
It was warmer, but everything was not quite spring yet. The lake was still frozen:
In fact, the trail warned you that you could die. Awesome.
The trail was actually pretty clean, except for the bridge. The shoulders on the road, however, were littered with all sorts of crap.
Coming back down the ramp you could see a smaller section of the water way and how it's still frozen solid.
And the creek that feeds it:
Rinse and repeat for the next few days before we get a new blast of winter. Conclusions? Love my new tires. Bike's riding great. Me? Not as much. Seems that the first thing to go after some time off the road is handling. I was all over the place. Naturally, there was a drop in speed, but I felt like the endurance level was up from where I switched to indoor training. On familiar hills it took longer for me to bottom out than usual. Even in the chilly air, which usually makes my lungs hurt like hell. Ah, lungs.
And my nemesis was out. He rides for a local racing team and, I swear, the man has no joy. No joy at all. Plus he seems to have the same schedule and route as me. what's up with that? Maybe I'll start sticking my tongue out at him. As someone recently said, cyclists aren't noted for their upper body strength so I think I might have a chance in a slap fight. Though he has the long golden mane of hair. Which makes me hate him even more.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Holiday
Everyone else had the day off, so I took it off too. It's unusually warm, so mom, Gert and the dog are out walking while I make a pot of gumbo (surprisingly calorie friendly to two cyclists trying to get in shape for warm weather).
Sadly, today we finally accepted the fact that our trainer is dying. Admittedly, it was cheap. I bought it not knowing if I would stick with it. I did. And, now with two people using it and my switch from gently using it to abusing the crap out of it, it can no longer live. So, we decided to buy a new one and then laugh as our monthly budget mocked us. Stupid money.
For the hell of it, I decided to see if Matilda's bike would fit on the trainer. It did. This amused the hell out of Gert who immediately jumped on and, I kid you not, rode for 20 minutes straight:
As she ended up her impromptu work out, or if you wish to call it "playing on the trainer," she gritted her teeth, went into oxygen debt and kicked in "Gertie Power", the secret something she uses to blow away the neighborhood while they watch in awe and terror.
After re-hydrating, she relaxed with the cat.
Now she's laying on the floor in the garage, with her bike on top of her, claiming that she's stuck and in dire need of help lest she die a horrible death after being crushed by a 14 pound child's bike that, honestly, is barely touching her.
All in all a good President's Day. Nice work, George and Abe. Thanks for making my daughter's drama fit possible. Rock on democracy!
Sadly, today we finally accepted the fact that our trainer is dying. Admittedly, it was cheap. I bought it not knowing if I would stick with it. I did. And, now with two people using it and my switch from gently using it to abusing the crap out of it, it can no longer live. So, we decided to buy a new one and then laugh as our monthly budget mocked us. Stupid money.
For the hell of it, I decided to see if Matilda's bike would fit on the trainer. It did. This amused the hell out of Gert who immediately jumped on and, I kid you not, rode for 20 minutes straight:
As she ended up her impromptu work out, or if you wish to call it "playing on the trainer," she gritted her teeth, went into oxygen debt and kicked in "Gertie Power", the secret something she uses to blow away the neighborhood while they watch in awe and terror.
After re-hydrating, she relaxed with the cat.
Now she's laying on the floor in the garage, with her bike on top of her, claiming that she's stuck and in dire need of help lest she die a horrible death after being crushed by a 14 pound child's bike that, honestly, is barely touching her.
All in all a good President's Day. Nice work, George and Abe. Thanks for making my daughter's drama fit possible. Rock on democracy!
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Riding Indoors is Dangerous
I've hit my stride again. It's been cold, I've been sick, the bike was sick . . . in December and January everything conspired against my sitting my butt in the saddle.
No more! I'm back on my usual schedule of two on, one off of indoor training and have discovered an unnatural love of the more endurance style intervals. Sure, sprints are nice, but the long, slow build of a climbing repeat and the weird sensation that I'm actually stronger at the end of the third repeat than I was on the first is a giddy feeling.
NOTE: There is a Gert/Matilda story at the bottom of all this. I will tag it with the word "Shazam!" in bold, if you want to skip the cycling babble.
One thing I miss about riding outdoors, other than being outdoors and the actual sensation of riding, are the other cyclists. For the most part, cyclists fall into three categories:
1. Recreational: Serious, but out for fun. Often wearing weird clothes, with panniers sometimes, or in one case, on a black road bike with a pink basket. Seriously. Generally road/trail rule Nazis, but in a nice way. Tourists, retirees, fit families. Generally chatty and kind, will always stop to ask if you need help if you pull of to the side for any reason.
2. Hardcore: Self-explanatory. There are two types. Dickheads and nice guys. If they ride alone they tend to be arrogant, selfish, pissed-off dickheads. I don't say this in a bad way. Often, on a windy day, you can count on someone hanging on your wheel without letting you know they've shown up and suck your wheel for a while and then pass you on a hill without so much as a wave. The dickheads tend to think they are better than everyone else out there and that you, as the guy or gal who is not on their team or in their club, do not deserve to share the road with them. Key point: They never wave to other cyclists. This is important.
That being said, there are also hardcore cyclists that are out there and enjoy the community aspect of cycling. They'll announce themselves as they come up behind you, stop to chat, talk about bikes, etc. They'll always stop to see if someone needs help and will compliment you on a good ride of they come up and follow you. You'll laugh together as they watch you overcook a turn and nearly slide across the road and you'll admire their climbing skills as you slowly slip away from them on a long hill.
These guys always wave, nod and say hello to any cyclist on the road. Any cyclist. A local racer, who oozes respect around here, is fond of saying that no matter what you're doing acknowledge each cyclist you see. Because two miles down the road it may be their hand pump that saves your ass or their patch kit, tools, or anything else you might have forgotten when an unfortunate situation occurs.
I try to be the second type, but I'm too self-hating to think I belong to either group. I don't feel at that level yet. I probably am, but I still feel like the chubby guy huffing up a hill.
3. The spur of the moment cyclist. They generally come out on holiday weekends and ride big box store bikes. There is nothing wrong with this and I personally feel that anyone out on the road is a good thing. But safety-wise they can be a nightmare.
Why? Well, 90% don't wear helmets or are wearing the wrong helmets or are wearing improperly fitted helmets. That's okay though, since it's their thick brain pan that will be oozing out the very goo that gives them motor functions.
Simply put, they do not know the rules. They often ride in groups of four, spread across the road or trail. If they are on a trail they can't seem to stay on their side and come barreling straight at you. They do not know how to signal that they are stopping, turning, slowing, etc. They often don't even announce "on your left" when they pass people. You gotta let people know you're there. Walkers, riders, skaters, cars (though not by shouting). When you call out to let them know that you are coming by they freak out and yell at you. That happens to me a lot.
And then there's the weaving.
Those that come out more than one time quickly learn the rules of the road and trails.
I'm not complaining, mind you. Just my observation. Some roadies are dicks, some touring cyclists are weird, some roadies are nice, mountain bikers tend to be the nicest, holiday warriors are dangerous.
Let the hate mail flow.
Shazam!
Riding inside today I was feeling fantastic. I was back at my favorite ride time, doing my favorite indoor workout and having a great time. I'm going through a particularly intense section of the workout when in comes Matilda. I figure she's getting something out of the room.
Apparently not. She walks up to my bike, looks me in the eye and bellows (at inhuman levels), "Ooort! Ooort! Ooort! WAAAAAAAH! Oooort!" And she's gone. Why did she do this? I do not know. But I can assure you that it was, in fact, the most annoying sound ever to emanate out of a human mouth.
Later, when I was getting ready to "sprint to the line" at the end of my final interval, Gert comes in the room. She tackles the cat, then complains that the cat does not love her. Raising my cadence I grunt in understanding.
Then, for a reason that is not yet clear and that psychologists may never understand even after years of study she jumps in front of my bike, starts doing the Cabbage Patch, chanting, "Oh yeah. Uh huh. That's right. Oh yeah." And she's gone.
My wife apologized for teaching her the dance, but I still do not understand why she did it. In a way, however, it felt a little like being on a stage of the Tour and having some lunatic run along side of me while I rode up a mountain.
That being said, if one of the kids dumps water on me they are so grounded.
No more! I'm back on my usual schedule of two on, one off of indoor training and have discovered an unnatural love of the more endurance style intervals. Sure, sprints are nice, but the long, slow build of a climbing repeat and the weird sensation that I'm actually stronger at the end of the third repeat than I was on the first is a giddy feeling.
NOTE: There is a Gert/Matilda story at the bottom of all this. I will tag it with the word "Shazam!" in bold, if you want to skip the cycling babble.
One thing I miss about riding outdoors, other than being outdoors and the actual sensation of riding, are the other cyclists. For the most part, cyclists fall into three categories:
1. Recreational: Serious, but out for fun. Often wearing weird clothes, with panniers sometimes, or in one case, on a black road bike with a pink basket. Seriously. Generally road/trail rule Nazis, but in a nice way. Tourists, retirees, fit families. Generally chatty and kind, will always stop to ask if you need help if you pull of to the side for any reason.
2. Hardcore: Self-explanatory. There are two types. Dickheads and nice guys. If they ride alone they tend to be arrogant, selfish, pissed-off dickheads. I don't say this in a bad way. Often, on a windy day, you can count on someone hanging on your wheel without letting you know they've shown up and suck your wheel for a while and then pass you on a hill without so much as a wave. The dickheads tend to think they are better than everyone else out there and that you, as the guy or gal who is not on their team or in their club, do not deserve to share the road with them. Key point: They never wave to other cyclists. This is important.
That being said, there are also hardcore cyclists that are out there and enjoy the community aspect of cycling. They'll announce themselves as they come up behind you, stop to chat, talk about bikes, etc. They'll always stop to see if someone needs help and will compliment you on a good ride of they come up and follow you. You'll laugh together as they watch you overcook a turn and nearly slide across the road and you'll admire their climbing skills as you slowly slip away from them on a long hill.
These guys always wave, nod and say hello to any cyclist on the road. Any cyclist. A local racer, who oozes respect around here, is fond of saying that no matter what you're doing acknowledge each cyclist you see. Because two miles down the road it may be their hand pump that saves your ass or their patch kit, tools, or anything else you might have forgotten when an unfortunate situation occurs.
I try to be the second type, but I'm too self-hating to think I belong to either group. I don't feel at that level yet. I probably am, but I still feel like the chubby guy huffing up a hill.
3. The spur of the moment cyclist. They generally come out on holiday weekends and ride big box store bikes. There is nothing wrong with this and I personally feel that anyone out on the road is a good thing. But safety-wise they can be a nightmare.
Why? Well, 90% don't wear helmets or are wearing the wrong helmets or are wearing improperly fitted helmets. That's okay though, since it's their thick brain pan that will be oozing out the very goo that gives them motor functions.
Simply put, they do not know the rules. They often ride in groups of four, spread across the road or trail. If they are on a trail they can't seem to stay on their side and come barreling straight at you. They do not know how to signal that they are stopping, turning, slowing, etc. They often don't even announce "on your left" when they pass people. You gotta let people know you're there. Walkers, riders, skaters, cars (though not by shouting). When you call out to let them know that you are coming by they freak out and yell at you. That happens to me a lot.
And then there's the weaving.
Those that come out more than one time quickly learn the rules of the road and trails.
I'm not complaining, mind you. Just my observation. Some roadies are dicks, some touring cyclists are weird, some roadies are nice, mountain bikers tend to be the nicest, holiday warriors are dangerous.
Let the hate mail flow.
Shazam!
Riding inside today I was feeling fantastic. I was back at my favorite ride time, doing my favorite indoor workout and having a great time. I'm going through a particularly intense section of the workout when in comes Matilda. I figure she's getting something out of the room.
Apparently not. She walks up to my bike, looks me in the eye and bellows (at inhuman levels), "Ooort! Ooort! Ooort! WAAAAAAAH! Oooort!" And she's gone. Why did she do this? I do not know. But I can assure you that it was, in fact, the most annoying sound ever to emanate out of a human mouth.
Later, when I was getting ready to "sprint to the line" at the end of my final interval, Gert comes in the room. She tackles the cat, then complains that the cat does not love her. Raising my cadence I grunt in understanding.
Then, for a reason that is not yet clear and that psychologists may never understand even after years of study she jumps in front of my bike, starts doing the Cabbage Patch, chanting, "Oh yeah. Uh huh. That's right. Oh yeah." And she's gone.
My wife apologized for teaching her the dance, but I still do not understand why she did it. In a way, however, it felt a little like being on a stage of the Tour and having some lunatic run along side of me while I rode up a mountain.
That being said, if one of the kids dumps water on me they are so grounded.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Tour of Missouri
Route has been announced. Huzzah.
Interesting. A time trial in Branson, of all places. Huh. I wonder how they'll react to that. Branson seems like a bunch sprint type of town. Columbia would be more of a TT type of town.
I'll go to the St. Louis stage, of course. Though a circuit through town isn't so exciting. I wonder what the actual route will be. Could be interesting. I'm looking forward to seeing the profiles of each stage. When I find that out I'll decide what day to take off and visit.
It's a shame there's no stage from Hannibal to St. Charles instead of Jeff City. That would have been a cool stage, lots of fun hills. Though, there are some interesting points for hills on this route I can't picture any big ass climbs. So it'll be a fast race.
Now to wait to find out who races. I'm sure Dan Schmatz, and whatever team he's riding for (I can't remember) will ride. Navigator's? Toyota-United? I just don't know . . . Will be fun though.
Interesting. A time trial in Branson, of all places. Huh. I wonder how they'll react to that. Branson seems like a bunch sprint type of town. Columbia would be more of a TT type of town.
I'll go to the St. Louis stage, of course. Though a circuit through town isn't so exciting. I wonder what the actual route will be. Could be interesting. I'm looking forward to seeing the profiles of each stage. When I find that out I'll decide what day to take off and visit.
It's a shame there's no stage from Hannibal to St. Charles instead of Jeff City. That would have been a cool stage, lots of fun hills. Though, there are some interesting points for hills on this route I can't picture any big ass climbs. So it'll be a fast race.
Now to wait to find out who races. I'm sure Dan Schmatz, and whatever team he's riding for (I can't remember) will ride. Navigator's? Toyota-United? I just don't know . . . Will be fun though.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Remembering the Bike Man
Last week an elderly couple in Utah died of hypothermia after getting stuck in the snow. It's a sad, tragic story. But it was the life of Reed Palmer that caught my eye. He served in the Utah legislature, worked for a bakery and was a realator.
More importantly, Reed Palmer was the Bike Man in his neighborhood. He'd fix flats, repair bikes and scooters, fix dropped chains and adjust whatever kids needed adjusted on their bikes. If they could pay him, he'd accept it. But, usually a hug would do. He even had a sign outside that read "Reed's Bike & Trike." Admittedly, it wasn't much of a business. But he would rehab old bikes and, I assume, it made him happy.
According to the articles, when a new family would move into the neighborhood he would introduce himself and ask if the kids had bikes. If not, he'd give them one. There were a lot of happy Christmas mornings thanks to Reed Palmer.
More importantly, he passed along the love of cycling to children. This is not the same love that I have, but that which Gert oozes every day. The wind in their face, the freedom of movement, the fun of going as fast as you can under your own control, riding to your friend's house or just riding around the neighborhood with your friends. It's the purest form of cycling. Kids do it not for the exercise, but for the sheer joy of it.
Reed Palmer left an indelible mark on the world and the community he inhabited. He wasn't just a neighbor, he was the Bike Man. He dealt in smiles.
How much of an effect did he have? When he and his wife were laid to rest today, kids brought their bikes in tribute to the man who spread his joy to another generation.
They often talk about the life worth living. Reed and Fae Palmer may have died in tragic circumstances and before their time, but they lived in a way that will be felt through a whole new generation. It's a touching story of a life that was certainly worth living--and well-lived. I didn't know the Palmers, but after reading about them, I wish I had.
The world could use more Bike Men.
More importantly, Reed Palmer was the Bike Man in his neighborhood. He'd fix flats, repair bikes and scooters, fix dropped chains and adjust whatever kids needed adjusted on their bikes. If they could pay him, he'd accept it. But, usually a hug would do. He even had a sign outside that read "Reed's Bike & Trike." Admittedly, it wasn't much of a business. But he would rehab old bikes and, I assume, it made him happy.
According to the articles, when a new family would move into the neighborhood he would introduce himself and ask if the kids had bikes. If not, he'd give them one. There were a lot of happy Christmas mornings thanks to Reed Palmer.
More importantly, he passed along the love of cycling to children. This is not the same love that I have, but that which Gert oozes every day. The wind in their face, the freedom of movement, the fun of going as fast as you can under your own control, riding to your friend's house or just riding around the neighborhood with your friends. It's the purest form of cycling. Kids do it not for the exercise, but for the sheer joy of it.
Reed Palmer left an indelible mark on the world and the community he inhabited. He wasn't just a neighbor, he was the Bike Man. He dealt in smiles.
How much of an effect did he have? When he and his wife were laid to rest today, kids brought their bikes in tribute to the man who spread his joy to another generation.
They often talk about the life worth living. Reed and Fae Palmer may have died in tragic circumstances and before their time, but they lived in a way that will be felt through a whole new generation. It's a touching story of a life that was certainly worth living--and well-lived. I didn't know the Palmers, but after reading about them, I wish I had.
The world could use more Bike Men.
Monday, February 05, 2007
Holy Crap It's Cold
It's been below freezing for what seems like months. But, really, the past two weeks or so. In the last 45 days I've been able to ride outside once. And it was short and depressing.
How cold is it? Well, my normal route goes through a park with a lake and a "dripping" waterfall. For your pleasure here are some photos:
A phonecam pic of Gert standing in the water last August.
Roughly the same spot today.
Other side of the lake, boat launch.
The "dripping" springs drip no more.
So, as you can see, there's no way in hell I'd be out there riding these last few weeks. Oddly, I've seen some of the hardcore guys out there riding. I respect them, but I am not envious. I'm nuts, but I'm not completely crazy.
How cold is it? Well, my normal route goes through a park with a lake and a "dripping" waterfall. For your pleasure here are some photos:
A phonecam pic of Gert standing in the water last August.
Roughly the same spot today.
Other side of the lake, boat launch.
The "dripping" springs drip no more.
So, as you can see, there's no way in hell I'd be out there riding these last few weeks. Oddly, I've seen some of the hardcore guys out there riding. I respect them, but I am not envious. I'm nuts, but I'm not completely crazy.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Get Over It
This weekend Gert and I took our friend Mike to the bike shop to pick up his bike. Long story, not very interesting.
Gert loves the bike shop. It's filled with expensive things she's not allowed to touch, plus a small section of kids' bikes. The guys at the shop love her too because she is completely fearless about her bike riding.
However, she has gotten in trouble in the past with an old manager at the shop for touching and sitting on the kids bikes. So, I sat down with her to have a chat about it.
"Gert, since you're coming to the bike shop with you have to understand you can't touch the bikes when--"
"Dad. I'm so over that. I'm five now."
And she didn't. She did drool over a pink bike that she desperately wanted. But, like dad, she merely stroked and and sighed, just like I did with the light as a feather racing bike.
Then the guys at the shop started prodding her with the future. "Gert, you're a good bike rider, right? Well, you should get a Stinky. They're pink and they are really cool!"
And so it began. Gert now desperately wants a $4000 mountain bike and I think she's dreaming of singletrack. Thanks Zack for bringing that up. I'm so screwed.
Gert loves the bike shop. It's filled with expensive things she's not allowed to touch, plus a small section of kids' bikes. The guys at the shop love her too because she is completely fearless about her bike riding.
However, she has gotten in trouble in the past with an old manager at the shop for touching and sitting on the kids bikes. So, I sat down with her to have a chat about it.
"Gert, since you're coming to the bike shop with you have to understand you can't touch the bikes when--"
"Dad. I'm so over that. I'm five now."
And she didn't. She did drool over a pink bike that she desperately wanted. But, like dad, she merely stroked and and sighed, just like I did with the light as a feather racing bike.
Then the guys at the shop started prodding her with the future. "Gert, you're a good bike rider, right? Well, you should get a Stinky. They're pink and they are really cool!"
And so it began. Gert now desperately wants a $4000 mountain bike and I think she's dreaming of singletrack. Thanks Zack for bringing that up. I'm so screwed.
Friday, January 26, 2007
Re-make/Re-model
Inspired by my wife's recent Extreme Makeover: Blog Edition, I want to kick up some dust around here. I've been staring at this design for years. I'm tired of it. Aren't you? Yeah, I thought so because you keep sticking your gum in the tables.
But I have a problem. Several actually. 1. I can't design my way out of Michael Graves' bathroom and 2. I'm color blind.
So, here's my proposal. If you happen to have design abilities make me a website. I need it to be able to accommodate more than just a blog, because I have a whole bunch of stuff on the site and, supposedly, I'm supposed to be adding to it frequently. It should also be somewhat geeky/sciencey/odd.
Here's the catch: I cannot pay you in American money. In fact, I cannot pay you in legal tender. However, if you do give me a design I will reciprocate in one mix CD per every 30 minutes you spend on the design. Including talking to me! That's right, one five minute conversation with me translates in to 1.75 songs! At 80 minutes per CD you're getting twenty minutes for FREE!
Side note on cylcing. It hit 56 degrees today, so I went for a quick ride. It was my first ride on the road in over a month. Indoor training is nice, but it's nothing like sailing down a hill, going the speed limit and having a van in front of you and a Geo Metro behind you while you're signaling that you're going to turn left and you realize that, outside of cyclists, no one knows what the hell hand signals mean.
More importantly I recently put some new Contis on the bike that were a different size than the cyclocross slicks I had been running, so I was dying to see what the difference in rolling resistance really was.
Verdict: A lot. I was flying. I was smiling.
Issue: Wind. It was really windy today. Worse, the wind was blowing DOWN all the hills. Great for descending, terrible for climbing.
Second Issue: Though it was 56 today, there was a chill in the air that bit at my lungs. Halfway through the ride I could have used a few doses of salbutamol because I couldn't breathe. I had to stop to catch my breath at the top of my favorite hill. Shortly thereafter I was going down said hill following the van. That felt good. However, my wife is not allowed to find out how fast I was going because I'll get in trouble.
But man it was fun . . .
But I have a problem. Several actually. 1. I can't design my way out of Michael Graves' bathroom and 2. I'm color blind.
So, here's my proposal. If you happen to have design abilities make me a website. I need it to be able to accommodate more than just a blog, because I have a whole bunch of stuff on the site and, supposedly, I'm supposed to be adding to it frequently. It should also be somewhat geeky/sciencey/odd.
Here's the catch: I cannot pay you in American money. In fact, I cannot pay you in legal tender. However, if you do give me a design I will reciprocate in one mix CD per every 30 minutes you spend on the design. Including talking to me! That's right, one five minute conversation with me translates in to 1.75 songs! At 80 minutes per CD you're getting twenty minutes for FREE!
Side note on cylcing. It hit 56 degrees today, so I went for a quick ride. It was my first ride on the road in over a month. Indoor training is nice, but it's nothing like sailing down a hill, going the speed limit and having a van in front of you and a Geo Metro behind you while you're signaling that you're going to turn left and you realize that, outside of cyclists, no one knows what the hell hand signals mean.
More importantly I recently put some new Contis on the bike that were a different size than the cyclocross slicks I had been running, so I was dying to see what the difference in rolling resistance really was.
Verdict: A lot. I was flying. I was smiling.
Issue: Wind. It was really windy today. Worse, the wind was blowing DOWN all the hills. Great for descending, terrible for climbing.
Second Issue: Though it was 56 today, there was a chill in the air that bit at my lungs. Halfway through the ride I could have used a few doses of salbutamol because I couldn't breathe. I had to stop to catch my breath at the top of my favorite hill. Shortly thereafter I was going down said hill following the van. That felt good. However, my wife is not allowed to find out how fast I was going because I'll get in trouble.
But man it was fun . . .
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Misc. Cycling Notes
A big thanks to David at The Fredcast for the shout out on his podcast this week. David gave the Tour de Stooges a quick nod in his upcoming rides section. I should note that in his email in response to my suggestion (which I managed to delete along with all of my email that was still on the server yesterday afternoon, so if I didn't respond it's because I'm a bit of an idiot) David mentioned that a Monty Python themed ride would be equally fun, as well as equally confounding to wives. I'm happy to say that my wife, however, would welcome it. She can sing "I'm a Lumberjack" in its entirety.
Spouses aside, I think David actually has a great idea. It could be set up much the same as the Tour de Stooges. However, here's the big difference: At some point while you were at a stop refilling your water bottle, three guys dressed in cycling kits would come running by, pretending to pedal their imaginary bikes while two guys behind them made clicking noises that sound like the whirring of a chain over gears.
David is living proof of what Podcasting can accomplish. He produces, week in and week out, the best cycling podcast out there. The one guy, squeezing podcasting between working, training and family life, puts out a consistently better show than some of the pros out there. And, if that's not enough, he produces a bi-weekly cycling round table called The Spokesmen, with some of the best voices in the cycling business (including one of the wittiest, Carlton Reid). Both are frequently the highlights in the week of this bored freelancer.
On to doping. Of course.
My buddy Patrick Lefevre is being accused of being knee deep in doping. He denies it, of course, because he couldn't possibly be involved with anything so wrong and terrible. Of course not. Lefevre is the guy, after all, who pushed to ban Discover from the League of Honest Cycling Teams for their signing of Ivan Basso. And, if I'm not mistaken, as soon as Floyd Landis' A sample came back I believe he suggested that Landis should be stripped of his title, banned from cycling, denied a passport, banned from Europe, have his head shaved, be forced to listen to Barry Manilow, eat fried worms, kept out of the baseball hall of fame, have his Internet access shut off, taken outside and beaten, sleep with the fishes and be repeatedly kicked in the groin while being asked, "How's your T/E ratio now bitch?"
My point being, and always has been, that Lefevre has been talking out of both sides of his mouth for years. He condemns people left and right, acts like the Minister of Right Living and then gives a pass to his pet cyclist Johan Museeuw. Case in point? Museeuw has been under doping suspicion for years. Fair enough. Without evidence, he shouldn't be shuffled out of the sport, right? Except that, the Belgian cycling federation banned Museeuw for two years for being implicated in a doping scandal. He's banned from working in cycling.
According to Lefevre's rules, Museeuw should be treated the same as Landis. He certainly wouldn't hire a guy who is implicated in a doping scandal to work on his team, even if it's not as a racer. Right? Not really. Patrick claims that the suspension is "symbolic" so Museeuw continues to work for Quick-Step in a PR capacity. I doubt that will change now that Museeuw has admitted to doping late in his career. You see, there's nothing the cycling likes more than an "honest" doper.
Both sides of the mouth, Patrick. Both sides. Keep up your posturing and it'll be clear you're speaking out of another orifice.
My point? Nothing, really. Except that I'm #2 in the google search for Patrick Lefevre Doping.
I hope I'm not one of the guys he sues over these new stories. I've never said he gives people drugs. I'm just saying he can't go around condemning one doper and giving another happy slaps in the team hotel.
Spouses aside, I think David actually has a great idea. It could be set up much the same as the Tour de Stooges. However, here's the big difference: At some point while you were at a stop refilling your water bottle, three guys dressed in cycling kits would come running by, pretending to pedal their imaginary bikes while two guys behind them made clicking noises that sound like the whirring of a chain over gears.
David is living proof of what Podcasting can accomplish. He produces, week in and week out, the best cycling podcast out there. The one guy, squeezing podcasting between working, training and family life, puts out a consistently better show than some of the pros out there. And, if that's not enough, he produces a bi-weekly cycling round table called The Spokesmen, with some of the best voices in the cycling business (including one of the wittiest, Carlton Reid). Both are frequently the highlights in the week of this bored freelancer.
On to doping. Of course.
My buddy Patrick Lefevre is being accused of being knee deep in doping. He denies it, of course, because he couldn't possibly be involved with anything so wrong and terrible. Of course not. Lefevre is the guy, after all, who pushed to ban Discover from the League of Honest Cycling Teams for their signing of Ivan Basso. And, if I'm not mistaken, as soon as Floyd Landis' A sample came back I believe he suggested that Landis should be stripped of his title, banned from cycling, denied a passport, banned from Europe, have his head shaved, be forced to listen to Barry Manilow, eat fried worms, kept out of the baseball hall of fame, have his Internet access shut off, taken outside and beaten, sleep with the fishes and be repeatedly kicked in the groin while being asked, "How's your T/E ratio now bitch?"
My point being, and always has been, that Lefevre has been talking out of both sides of his mouth for years. He condemns people left and right, acts like the Minister of Right Living and then gives a pass to his pet cyclist Johan Museeuw. Case in point? Museeuw has been under doping suspicion for years. Fair enough. Without evidence, he shouldn't be shuffled out of the sport, right? Except that, the Belgian cycling federation banned Museeuw for two years for being implicated in a doping scandal. He's banned from working in cycling.
According to Lefevre's rules, Museeuw should be treated the same as Landis. He certainly wouldn't hire a guy who is implicated in a doping scandal to work on his team, even if it's not as a racer. Right? Not really. Patrick claims that the suspension is "symbolic" so Museeuw continues to work for Quick-Step in a PR capacity. I doubt that will change now that Museeuw has admitted to doping late in his career. You see, there's nothing the cycling likes more than an "honest" doper.
Both sides of the mouth, Patrick. Both sides. Keep up your posturing and it'll be clear you're speaking out of another orifice.
My point? Nothing, really. Except that I'm #2 in the google search for Patrick Lefevre Doping.
I hope I'm not one of the guys he sues over these new stories. I've never said he gives people drugs. I'm just saying he can't go around condemning one doper and giving another happy slaps in the team hotel.
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Special Powers?
So, I have my bike back and after 9 days with nothing to ride, I was eager to ride again. I was setting up the trainer and testing the contact between the wheel and the fly wheel thing (I have no idea what it's called).
I noticed Gert standing behind me, looking a little like Damien from the Omen. "Hello Father," she cooed in a sinister tone. "How do you start pedaling on the trainer?"
"Oh, just like normal sweetie," I responded. "I put it in a light resistance and start pedaling. It's a little different than starting on the street, but not too much."
"I see," she said, her expression unchanging. "And, exactly how fast can you go on the trainer? How do you get going that fast?"
"It's a combination of the resistance and the gear I'm in honey. Believe it or not, if the resistance is a little higher than it is now I can do a sprint that gets that wheel really spinning."
"Will you show me Father?"
"Sure!" Loving the attention and getting to talk about cycling with my progeny, I jacked up the resistance and worked my way into a sprint. I wasn't warmed up, so it was only a half-hearted sprint, but surely impressive to a five-year-old girl who rides a sixteen inch bike.
Gert clapped, but not in a childish way. It was more mocking. "Excelent Father," she said. "However, while your skills on the bicycle are admirable, you would not be able to match my riding abilities on my bike. I can go fast, you see. Faster than you. Quick as a wink! And it is not because I need to train, dear Father."
"Uh, okay honey."
"No, Father. Training is not a need for me. Because of my special powers, I will always win. So go ahead and train your heart out. Cough your lungs up onto the tarmac Father, because you will never be able to vanquish me and my special powers! HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
And she was gone. Shaken, I went on with my training. However, I was left with a cold feeling in my stomach that something important and life-altering had just happened. Upon getting off my bike and cleaning up I realized what I had to do. It is clear to me now.
I will lie about Gert's age, get her a junior road bike and start entering her into boys' juniors races. Because, with her attitude and special powers she will eat them alive on the road.
Oneofusoneofusoneofus.
I noticed Gert standing behind me, looking a little like Damien from the Omen. "Hello Father," she cooed in a sinister tone. "How do you start pedaling on the trainer?"
"Oh, just like normal sweetie," I responded. "I put it in a light resistance and start pedaling. It's a little different than starting on the street, but not too much."
"I see," she said, her expression unchanging. "And, exactly how fast can you go on the trainer? How do you get going that fast?"
"It's a combination of the resistance and the gear I'm in honey. Believe it or not, if the resistance is a little higher than it is now I can do a sprint that gets that wheel really spinning."
"Will you show me Father?"
"Sure!" Loving the attention and getting to talk about cycling with my progeny, I jacked up the resistance and worked my way into a sprint. I wasn't warmed up, so it was only a half-hearted sprint, but surely impressive to a five-year-old girl who rides a sixteen inch bike.
Gert clapped, but not in a childish way. It was more mocking. "Excelent Father," she said. "However, while your skills on the bicycle are admirable, you would not be able to match my riding abilities on my bike. I can go fast, you see. Faster than you. Quick as a wink! And it is not because I need to train, dear Father."
"Uh, okay honey."
"No, Father. Training is not a need for me. Because of my special powers, I will always win. So go ahead and train your heart out. Cough your lungs up onto the tarmac Father, because you will never be able to vanquish me and my special powers! HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
And she was gone. Shaken, I went on with my training. However, I was left with a cold feeling in my stomach that something important and life-altering had just happened. Upon getting off my bike and cleaning up I realized what I had to do. It is clear to me now.
I will lie about Gert's age, get her a junior road bike and start entering her into boys' juniors races. Because, with her attitude and special powers she will eat them alive on the road.
Oneofusoneofusoneofus.
Friday, January 19, 2007
Rust Never Sleeps
My bike is ready. They took it apart and inspected every cable, thread, tube, connection and lubed the crap out of it.
The bad news? The cup on the left side of the bottom bracket was cracked in two places. They've been replaced. Apparently I was a ride or two away from failure. Not surprising.
Worse? BB was also rusty. So was the inside of the steerer tube. Now, the BB I understand because it's an open system and I ride in the rain, though not in a downpour. If I were a good boy I would take it apart and lube after rainy rides. I'm not a good boy. I wipe down the bike thought.
The steerer is a different matter. That's not open, but it's not closed either. I'll have to look and see where the entry point for enough moisture to get rusty would be so I can be more diligent about it. Hmm. I'm sure there is one, but I'm not picturing it. It's not like I leave it outside in the rain.
Stupid bike. I should just buy a new one. This one just isn't worth it. I need a new one. I really expensive, fast one. Something sleek and sexy.
Oh, it's not like I'd get rid of the cross bike. Why would I do that? I'd slap some 32s back on it and when I want to get dirty, then it's waiting for me. When I need to have an early midlife crisis, I'll take out the sleek and sexy bike.
Right? You're with me. Right? I need more than one bike. I need at least five. If you agree with me, and I know you do, visit my wife's website and leave supportive comments about how her husband needs a whole fleet of bikes. I mean, she just got a new saddle! Surely that calls for a brand new bike for me, right?
Also, feel free to drop links to good bikes for me. Straight to the bike, not the company. For example, Cervelo came up today. I'd say the Soloist Team would be the top for me. The rest after that would be just out of the realm of reality and impossible. But they are are pretty damn Vroomen.
Also, I'm a biggish guy. 6 feet, hoping to hit 185 at best. So, I'm not sure of the whole carbon thing. Plus, with my luck, I'd crash and then question the integrity of the frame from there after.
Debate, damn it. Give me things to dream about while I pretend that a good pot of Haitian Bleu is a PED and that Dick Pound is banging on my door demanding that I give back the cheap red and blue jersey that I wear frequently while Oscar Pereiro swears he's the rightful winner of that sprint that I claim that I "won" against "myself" last "August."
The bad news? The cup on the left side of the bottom bracket was cracked in two places. They've been replaced. Apparently I was a ride or two away from failure. Not surprising.
Worse? BB was also rusty. So was the inside of the steerer tube. Now, the BB I understand because it's an open system and I ride in the rain, though not in a downpour. If I were a good boy I would take it apart and lube after rainy rides. I'm not a good boy. I wipe down the bike thought.
The steerer is a different matter. That's not open, but it's not closed either. I'll have to look and see where the entry point for enough moisture to get rusty would be so I can be more diligent about it. Hmm. I'm sure there is one, but I'm not picturing it. It's not like I leave it outside in the rain.
Stupid bike. I should just buy a new one. This one just isn't worth it. I need a new one. I really expensive, fast one. Something sleek and sexy.
Oh, it's not like I'd get rid of the cross bike. Why would I do that? I'd slap some 32s back on it and when I want to get dirty, then it's waiting for me. When I need to have an early midlife crisis, I'll take out the sleek and sexy bike.
Right? You're with me. Right? I need more than one bike. I need at least five. If you agree with me, and I know you do, visit my wife's website and leave supportive comments about how her husband needs a whole fleet of bikes. I mean, she just got a new saddle! Surely that calls for a brand new bike for me, right?
Also, feel free to drop links to good bikes for me. Straight to the bike, not the company. For example, Cervelo came up today. I'd say the Soloist Team would be the top for me. The rest after that would be just out of the realm of reality and impossible. But they are are pretty damn Vroomen.
Also, I'm a biggish guy. 6 feet, hoping to hit 185 at best. So, I'm not sure of the whole carbon thing. Plus, with my luck, I'd crash and then question the integrity of the frame from there after.
Debate, damn it. Give me things to dream about while I pretend that a good pot of Haitian Bleu is a PED and that Dick Pound is banging on my door demanding that I give back the cheap red and blue jersey that I wear frequently while Oscar Pereiro swears he's the rightful winner of that sprint that I claim that I "won" against "myself" last "August."
Monday, January 08, 2007
The Emperor Has No Clothes
Ah, little Dickie Pound. He's slicker than a greased pig. But Dan at Rant Your Head Off has taken the time to shine a light on Mr. Pound using this weekend's New York Times article and finds that advancing his name as the arbitrator of clean living and sport doesn't actually use facts to prove his point. If the facts don't support his stance, he'll just make them up.
Again, I have to ask, what price must be paid for clean sport? Are we subscribing to the old adage of "You can't make an omelete without breaking a few eggs?"
The problem for me is that the man who the media uses as the authority on anti-doping because he is the head of WADA. But, in this case, it's like using Charles Foster Kane as a luminary for journalistic integrity because he owned a few papers (that he's fictional isn't really something we should consider).
Once again, where does the truth lay in these doping cases? And how does history end up viewing dopers.
Turns out, according to some cycling fans, if you die on Mount Ventoux while doped to the gills on speed, you can still be a hero (and get a monument, for that matter). If you are Eddy Merckx, it doesn't matter if you tested positive twice in your career. You're still the king. And Jaques Antequil? Well, hell, he liked to say you can't win the Tour de France on mineral water alone. Richard Virenque? Still a national hero. Johan Museeuw? Actually banned from working in cycling because of doping. Yet, somehow he still gets to work for Patrick Lefevre and is still vaunted for his brilliant rides in the classics. Patrick Lefevre? Well, he can employ his old pet and still get to argue about the ethics of hiring Ivan Basso. Go figure.
These guys all are considered giants in cycling. No one questions their results in other races and, in some cases, their past infractions are swept under the rug. But Floyd Landis? He comes up with a strange Testosterone ratio and cycling whipes his record clean, drums him out and destroys his career. Paris-Nice? Of course, he had to dope there. In fact, when he rode in his first mountain bike race as a kid, wearing sweatpants, you know he couldn't do that on Tang and Flintstones vitamins alone. Right? He's a cheat. Dick Pound says so.
What is it cycling? Is doping a problem the plagues the sport? If so, aren't all dopers doing harm to the sport? Event the legends?
Doping is a problem in sport. It has been for some time now. And the guilty should be punished accordingly and the innocent should have a fair chance. Tests should not be considered infallable and the accused deserve a fair chance to defend themselves.
One would hope that the man who punishes the guilty would have a closer relationship to the truth than Mr. Pound.
Again, I have to ask, what price must be paid for clean sport? Are we subscribing to the old adage of "You can't make an omelete without breaking a few eggs?"
The problem for me is that the man who the media uses as the authority on anti-doping because he is the head of WADA. But, in this case, it's like using Charles Foster Kane as a luminary for journalistic integrity because he owned a few papers (that he's fictional isn't really something we should consider).
Once again, where does the truth lay in these doping cases? And how does history end up viewing dopers.
Turns out, according to some cycling fans, if you die on Mount Ventoux while doped to the gills on speed, you can still be a hero (and get a monument, for that matter). If you are Eddy Merckx, it doesn't matter if you tested positive twice in your career. You're still the king. And Jaques Antequil? Well, hell, he liked to say you can't win the Tour de France on mineral water alone. Richard Virenque? Still a national hero. Johan Museeuw? Actually banned from working in cycling because of doping. Yet, somehow he still gets to work for Patrick Lefevre and is still vaunted for his brilliant rides in the classics. Patrick Lefevre? Well, he can employ his old pet and still get to argue about the ethics of hiring Ivan Basso. Go figure.
These guys all are considered giants in cycling. No one questions their results in other races and, in some cases, their past infractions are swept under the rug. But Floyd Landis? He comes up with a strange Testosterone ratio and cycling whipes his record clean, drums him out and destroys his career. Paris-Nice? Of course, he had to dope there. In fact, when he rode in his first mountain bike race as a kid, wearing sweatpants, you know he couldn't do that on Tang and Flintstones vitamins alone. Right? He's a cheat. Dick Pound says so.
What is it cycling? Is doping a problem the plagues the sport? If so, aren't all dopers doing harm to the sport? Event the legends?
Doping is a problem in sport. It has been for some time now. And the guilty should be punished accordingly and the innocent should have a fair chance. Tests should not be considered infallable and the accused deserve a fair chance to defend themselves.
One would hope that the man who punishes the guilty would have a closer relationship to the truth than Mr. Pound.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
My Bold Cycling Prediction of the Year
So, 2007 is upon us and the next cycling season starts in a few short months, if you can believe it. That being said, I'm not sure if the season will be as exciting as the Floyd Landis Chronicles have made the off-season.
But that's beside the point. No doping talk here instead . . . Big riders are starting to toss out their plans for 2007 and what races they will target. So, I'll take today's big announcement and pick it apart.
Goal: Iban Mayo is targeting the Giro.
Prediction: He'll tank in the mountains and abandon. He will then chalk it up as simply "training" for the Tour because he isn't trying to do a double.
Fair enough. But I think Mayo is done. It's sad, because I really like the guy as a rider. That being said, he's not the same man he once was. Talent? Yes. Grit? No.
Yes, I know, he kicked ass up La Toussuire at the Dauphine last year. But, have you ever seen an athlete that doesn't have the fight in his eyes? I just don't see him as being hungry. Honestly. He seems flat and boring now.
I hope I'm wrong and I hope he does well in the Giro and then comes out attacking in the Tour. But, I just see Mayo these days and think "Crash and Burn".
That being said, I don't know who my favorite will be going into the Tour this season, for obvious reasons. I want to support Levi, but who knows what he'll be doing. I just like the guy, I admit. I don't think he'll ever add a Tour win to his Palmares, but I'd like to see him in yellow for a day. And now that Basso (however you fell about that) is riding for Disco, well . . . I guess there's not a huge chance for Levi to get some glory.
But that's beside the point. No doping talk here instead . . . Big riders are starting to toss out their plans for 2007 and what races they will target. So, I'll take today's big announcement and pick it apart.
Goal: Iban Mayo is targeting the Giro.
Prediction: He'll tank in the mountains and abandon. He will then chalk it up as simply "training" for the Tour because he isn't trying to do a double.
Fair enough. But I think Mayo is done. It's sad, because I really like the guy as a rider. That being said, he's not the same man he once was. Talent? Yes. Grit? No.
Yes, I know, he kicked ass up La Toussuire at the Dauphine last year. But, have you ever seen an athlete that doesn't have the fight in his eyes? I just don't see him as being hungry. Honestly. He seems flat and boring now.
I hope I'm wrong and I hope he does well in the Giro and then comes out attacking in the Tour. But, I just see Mayo these days and think "Crash and Burn".
That being said, I don't know who my favorite will be going into the Tour this season, for obvious reasons. I want to support Levi, but who knows what he'll be doing. I just like the guy, I admit. I don't think he'll ever add a Tour win to his Palmares, but I'd like to see him in yellow for a day. And now that Basso (however you fell about that) is riding for Disco, well . . . I guess there's not a huge chance for Levi to get some glory.
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