Je Te Déteste, Aussi

No point in having a blog (or soapbox) if you can't be whiny and bitch about inconsequential things, non?

Nothing will be taken down, nothing will be re-read and nothing will satisfy unless I say it does. Deal with it, sissies.

Je Me Déteste

The epic Somerville weekend is over. Manville, Hall of Fame, Bound Brook and Somerville have all come and gone. I got a lot of good results but can't feel much but frustration for the whole weekend.

I can come up with a lot of excuses:

Manville- suffered mightily in the heat. Had to save some for Saturday and the rest of the weekend, etc.

Hall of Fame- spent too much gas bridging, left it too late, didn't respond to the right wheel moving, etc.

Bound Brook- wasn't working for myself, in the wind too much, save some for Somerville, etc.

Somerville- sprint was messy, in the wind too much, lost my leadout to a crash, etc.

DNF, 3rd, 3rd, 4th is really quite good for the whole weekend but I'm honestly disappointed in my performance. The last two weekends have been 2nd, 26th, DNF, 3rd, 3rd, 4th. I'm going in the wrong direction. Sure, the Cat3 field at Evesham wasn't nearly as strong as the Cat3 field at Somerville, or even Hall of Fame. In the end, though, all that I will remember is that I made a small mistake here, a minor miscalculation there that kept me from a win.

The only thing I'm feeling positive about from this weekend and last is that right now I know that I don't have top form. So being there and thereabouts in each of these races certainly is motivating for when I get to Rochester and Altoona, when I should really and truly be peaking.

In the meantime, I'm going to work on my sprints, trying to bust the 1300w barrier. Rochester should be pretty good and, based on my consistent performance this weekend, I should be able to put a really solid performance in at Altoona.

Final note: by my calculation from last weekend and this weekend, I should have 24 points in the NJ Cat3 Cup which should put me very near if not at the top of the standings. As if I needed another reason to race with a target on my back . . .

TheFuriousJenksster

Redemption came in the form of a podium at the US Bicycling Hall of Fame Criterium in Somerville, NJ. It was still hot, though not the hellish inferno that was Manville yesterday.

I don't remember much other than pounding the first couple laps to string it out and cause pain and my bridging effort at the end. I like seeing the look of fear in everyone's eyes when the Green and Yellow take to the line.

I wasn't paying attention to the lap cards so when they cut a few out to accomodate the Pro race, I didn't notice. What I did notice was that with 4 to go, there was a lone breakaway with four chasing. I had been cruising at the back for a while, biding my time so had some energy and those famous "itchy feet" to propel me to and off of the front. I was amazed to look back and still have a big gap on the field after half a lap. I covered the 25 or so second gap in about two laps, leaving one and a half to recover. It wasn't quite enough as we came up the short hill to the final corner. When the first impatient break rider jumped, I wanted to latch on his wheel but couldn't. All that I could get hold of was Gabriel Lloyd's wheel, who I later easily came around (take THAT you doubters, Mark and Will, oh ye of little faiths) to take 3rd.

I'm looking forward to Somerville on Monday and hoping it comes down to a field sprint. It could end up being a lot of fun.

Disappointment

I'm really disappointed in my performance at Manville today. It was 40 laps, about 1km per lap, maybe less. So there wasn't much room or time to move up. It was also about 34°C, which I'm most definitely not used to.

But the real kicker was the deep cough I developed. Everyone who knows me knows that I hate smoking pot. The cough I had during the race was of the I-just-took-too-big-of-a-bong-rip-and-now-my-lungs-are-spasming variety. Bad, bad, bad.

Hopefully, tomorrow, Sunday and Monday will be cooler. Saturday still won't offer much room to move around, but I'll make the best of it. I need Cat3 Cup points.

Racing with rage is not a bad thing.

Prognostication

This race-filled weekend will also be a results-filled weekend. I'm counting on the rest of the Hermes/RU crew to man up and race their asses off on Friday and Sunday.

While I won't go so far as to guarantee a win on either Saturday or Monday, I will go ahead and say that you can expect at least one podium from the weekend.

That is all. Don't crash.

Caption Contest

I spotted this photo from the Circuito de Evesham P/1/2/3 race. Here are my two caption suggestions:

"What's wrong with you? Go harder!"

"Dammit those bastards are lapping me . . . again!"

What's your suggestion?

Recon

Tonight we recon'ed the courses for this weekend. The Bound Brook crit on Sunday is going to be awesome . . . filled with torn up road and manhole covers. There will be great wailing and gnashing of teeth . . . all because of me.

I did some pursuit-ish efforts of 1-3km. I like them because immediately afterwards, my legs feel massive (and you know how massive they are to begin with). Plus, I like to go fast.

Look for me at Somerville. I'll be the guy in the Cat 3 race crossing the line with his arms raised in celebration.

Circuito de Evesham Race Report -or- Tyler Wren is a Nice Guy

I lifted this from my post to the HPHermes and RU email lists, so if you've already read it there, you can skip the dashed off parts:

--
Ok, so now that I have filled my belly with a few meals since the
race, I think I have the energy to recount it.

I took last week easy because, as Todd and Andy can attest from last
Sunday, my legs really, really needed it.

The course is a two turn 1.6km (1mi for you Imperialists) loop in an
office park with exposed windy sections and a slight rise going into
the final turn. The zenith of the rise is about 500m from the line
and about 200m before the last turn. The Cat3 race was scheduled to
go 27 laps, taking the line after the Masters race had finished.
There looked to be a few promising breaks. One in particular
contained 7-8 which I had missed out on. When the gap was at about 15
seconds, I bridged. This doomed the break because, as I later found
out, I was basically racing with a target on my back. So nothing
stuck and it was gruppo compatto for the final four or five laps. On
the last lap, I was sitting at the front waiting for the wind up into
the small rise. Once we crested it, one rider punched it hard on the
left and everyone (myself included) hesitated waiting for someone to
close. The moments of hesitation proved too much and I managed a 2nd
place finish . . . hoodwinked again!

I had about an hour to kill as the 4/5 race took place so I sat on the
newly-fixed trainer keeping the legs fresh and downing a bottle of
Cytomax. I should have eaten something, but hindsight is 20/20, of
course.

The P/1/2/3 race was about 60km and featured Tyler Wren of
Colavita-Sutter Home as well as many of the top NJ 1s, 2s and 3s
including a large Northeastern Hardware crew and an equally large
Metra-Ideal Tile crew (the latter brought radios, kinda lame if you
ask me). The race was stupid fast from the whistle. A break of 3-5
had a 30 second gap about midway through and looked strong but was
eventually reeled in. At about 5 laps to go, I began to feel the lack
of food and lack of hydration in my legs. Being on the rivet for
about 90% of the time had my back and neck a bit sore, too. At some
point, two Northeastern riders got off the front (my head was buried
so I couldn't tell you when) and were able to hold it to the line. On
the last lap I found the wheel of none other than Tyler Wren himself,
though, despite sitting pretty in 5th or 6th wheel, discovered that
when I tried to make my sprint, my legs seized up. I sat up and got
out of the way, finishing 27th. Northeastern ended up going 1-2-3.

Overall, great weather and great competition made the race a spectacular choice.
--

Missing out on the Cat3 race was really disappointing. Live and learn, I suppose. The P/1/2/3 race was great fun. It really was hard all the time. I had a chance to speak to Tyler Wren afterward and I was really impressed by his genuine character and earnest interest in the goings-on of the "lowly" amateurs with whom he had raced. He was really personable and races 'cross, to boot. What's not to like about this guy? Plus, he's obviously got a massive engine but no pop for a sprint to speak of . . . a great leadout man!

This weekend is going to be lots of fun and filled with good results, I can feel it.

Politically Un-Correct

I don't like fatties.

Every morning, I eat a bagel and cream cheese with a glass of orange juice for breakfast. I ran out of orange juice and forget to go to the store to get more. So this morning I stopped at Dunkin Donuts on my way to work to get a cinnamon raisin bagel, toasted, with cream cheese and an orange juice.

After I ordered, the very large gentleman behind me placed his order:

A large coffee with two sugars and two creams.
Two everything bagels, toasted, with cream cheese.
A chocolate glazed.
A Boston cream.

You could give him the benefit of the doubt and suggest he was buying for his coworkers, too. Or maybe that was his breakfast and lunch (though, if that's the case . . . ewww!). I considered it unlikely. His order could have nearly fed me for the entire day. The obesity epidemic in the USA (and, increasingly, the rest of the Western world) is alarming and, frankly, pisses me off. Americans' inability to maintain their health results in overcrowding of clinics, overworking of staff, increasing insurance premiums, etc. and that all ends up costing ME money.

As these fat jackasses rumble past us on the road in their ExcessUVs, honking, yelling, making obscene gestures, I bet they little realize their plight. I suppose maybe deep down, they're jealous that we have the motivation to ride. Or maybe not.

Yep, I'm an asshole. So sue me.

P.S. Mark has an interesting post about body weight and body image. He's one insightful guy.

Rest

Apologies for a very delinquent post.

Last Saturday I did about four hours and felt great. On Sunday, I said, "Go" and my legs said, "No." I'm not sure if it was because I didn't eat enough on Saturday afternoon post-ride or if it's because I've been steadily building, increasing training load and riding more without a real rest since early March. Probably a combination. After barely being able to hold wheels on Sunday's two hour ride, I resolved to take it easy this week and try to peak for Somerville weekend.

With that in mind, I went to Rahway on Tuesday night with the notion of sitting in the whole time. Unfortunately, I am far too impatient to do that. However, given the ridiculously windy conditions, I didn't have to attack too much to be on the rivet. There was even a point about 30 minutes in that I was thinking I might pop. But I didn't. The final laps felt quite easy without having burned matches throughout the prior fifty minutes. I could have taken the win* easily but, in an effort to get Andy a win and go one-two, I made it closer than it could have been as I almost got beat by a late-charging guy from Somerset.

I took Wednesday completely off due to 1) needing to actually rest during the rest week 2) the road was soaked and, while I generally love riding in the rain, the 50kmh wind gusts and lightning scared me off and 3) I just washed and Pledged(R) my steed and didn't want to get it grimy again. I felt really strange just kind of sitting around on a Wednesday evening. It's not something I've done in a while. It did allow me to get to sleep by 9:30, however, which was verrrrrrry nice.

So today is Thursday which means karaoke. In the spirit of the rest week, I won't be staying out too late, though I will be getting my licks in while I still can.

Hopefully the easy past couple of days will have allowed the legs enough time to recover so I can comfortably lay the smack down on Tyler Wren on Sunday in Marlton.

*-The guy that protested the sprint last week went completely apeshit this week. What really pisses me off is that he wasn't screaming so much about the safety and liability associated with passing cars on the right but was actually mostly concerned that he wasn't involved in the sprint. Class A Douchebag. Had he been mixed up in the sprint, I'd have crushed him anyways. I can't wait until we have a free and clear sprint at Rahway so I can show him how it's really done.

Le Dopage

Doping has been in the (albeit small section of the regular part, but the most important nonetheless to me and most of my readership) news a lot recently. Basso this, Scarponi that, McQuaid breathes fire and Pound should retire. You can bet that reader letters on Cyclingnews.com are going to involve the same back-and-forth ridiculousness that unfolded last summer when Puerto broke. To save you some time from reading the weekly letters page, here is a summary of all the positions that will be taken (why you would want to be saved time when you are reading Cyclingnews.com letters page to kill time to begin with is beyond me):

The Shocked Believer:
How can riders still dope? Don't they know they'll be caught? How dumb of them. Their stupidity will surely kill the sport.

The Cynic:
If it wasn't obvious Basso was running high-octane when he stomped all over the Giro in 2006, you need to get your head out of the sand. They're all dopers. Their code of silence is killing the sport.

The Pessimist:
Bah! I've followed the sport for one hundred and eleventy years (never you mind I couldn't tell a derailleur from a musette bag before that Lance guy came along) and this is the last straw! I've had it with these frauds! I'm done with this sport, it is dead to me! (Unless any of you happen to respond to my comment, which is the only reason I was reading Cyclingnews.com a week later, in which case I'll counter with the fire of a thousand fiery serpent tongues spitting venom from the head of Medusa with some irrelevant argument about buying shoes and your feet being a little big, betch!)

The Optimist:
It's high time we had a cleansing of the peloton! This time, it's for real! Puerto will air out the sport's dirty laundry. Because Festina, the Belgian affair, Manzano, Hamilton, etc. were only minor incidents. Though the bad press will probably lead to sponsors pulling out of the sport . . . it will be dead.

The Guy With THE Solution:
Blah, blah, blah, some ridiculous idea that violates the natural rights of the riders as human beings, blah, blah, blah, some even more ridiculous idea about banning riders "under suspicion" without any credible evidence whatsoever, blah, blah, blah, or else the sport will die.

The Guy With The OTHER Solution:
Ok, so they're all on the dope. So let 'em! Never mind that the sport will turn into a more boring version of WWF wrestling, just let 'em wreck their bodies in the pursuit of financial gain and glory. Hell, while we're at it, let's start juicing kids in elementary school so they won't be disadvantaged! Or else, the sport will die.

Whatever. Who cares. Life goes on. Go outside and ride your damn bike.

Overdue

Blog post long overdue. Good night's sleep long overdue. Win* at Rahway long overdue.

*Car-related protests were lodged by sore loser sissies.

Why We Ride

First off, this is an interesting post from TreeHugger about the bicycle being the most efficient form of transportation. That is pretty amazing to me. It makes me love the bike and the bike game that much more.

The above article answers the question of why we ride for so long. The machine is just too damn efficient. I always find it amusing to see people's jaws drop when they hear I rode 100+ miles over the course of a weekend. Once you've been regularly cycling for at least a few months, the miles melt away . . . unless you're on the trainer, of course. What the TreeHugger article doesn't explain, though, is Why We Ride. (Re-read the last sentence aloud and when you reach the period, say the word, "period.")

The Bike Game is part of why we ride. There's the camaraderie, the typical bike gamer attitude and personality. There's a lot. But for me, it's something else. Unfortunately, I can't explain what that something else is. During the solo portion of my ride on Saturday, I marvelled at how beautiful and elegant the bike and riding it were. It may have been the bonk coming through, or perhaps the rush of wind, but I had some tears in my eyes for a brief moment during that ride. Unfortunately, my tears, unlike those of Chuck Norris, don't cure cancer, only diabetes (Type II only).

In the same way that cocaine is a hell of a drug, the bike makes for one hell of a game.