Wii Played Wii

Mark, Will, Aaron and I shot each other in the face with guns and grenades for about six hours tonight. Good times were had by all.

Dinoboy rules. Tuna Cutter droolz.

TheJenksster and CapnChaz's Ridiculous Ride

Yesterday CapnChaz and I headed up north to hit some hills . . . I hit the first one hard and was pretty much cooked after that. Oh well.

CapnChaz was looking for some stupid-steep climb he found on this map, including elevation changes, of NJ. We thought we found the right road but apparently we were wrong and just as it started to POUR down rain, we found ourselves descending a gravel road . . . nice! I started to feel like a mountain biker (uh oh).

We got all turned around and decided just to head back home (we were in Long Hill at this point, wayyyy north of Highland Park). We got mildly lost and ended up next to Basking Ridge Country Club. After checking with some passing motorists and Google maps via my phone, we headed back on our way, but not before I went completely head over my bars trying to get on the road from the grass. Feeling more and more like a mountain biker, I suppose. Ouch.

The monsoon began to fade away but we were already soaked through and planned to ride until we saw some roads we recognized. We somehow ended up at King George and made the rather lucky decision to turn right. The rest, as they say, is history.

We left at 6PM and got home at about 8:50PM. It was deserving of its title: Death March Through the Watchung Hills.

The Format

Dear Olivia,

Here is the weekly non-cycling post. I wanted to let you know that The Format is giving away digital downloads of their one year old CD Dog Problems through their website. All you have to do is click on one of the many "here" links on the site, then enter your email address. It subscribes you to their mailing list which you can then unsubscribe from at any time. You should then be able to download the full CD.

The promotion began on Monday, about a week and a half after I bought the CD. But it was worth it! It's got a great carnival-ish theme to it. I first heard of them via the independent Rochester radio station, 90.5 WBER, The Only Station That Matters.

Love,
Mike

Cycling.tv

I just fired up Internet Explorer today for the first time in months so I could watch the reporter decide not to report on Paris Hilton and try (unsuccessfully) to set fire to her script and ultimately shredding it. Since I only ever use IE to watch Cycling.tv, I've got it set as my homepage and was quite dismayed with what I was presented.

They began to implement a new interface this season but I just saw it for the first time today. I used to advocate a lot for buying the Premium subscription since:

1. It is only $40 and I consider that a just fee
   
2. It shows support and demand for televised coverage of cycling events in the USA
   
3. Anthony McCrossen is almost as funny as Phil Liggett. Almost.
   
4. Where else will I get sweet highlights?

However, this new interface sucks ass. It keeps losing my login and I'm not sure why I can't watch the Now Playing through Premium like I used to. All in all, it's crap. Can anyone explain the reasoning behind moving to this new format? Didn't think so.

Aych-Ee-Double-Hockey-Sticks

It is SO hot. And humid. It was like that yesterday, too. I rode tempo to Rahway, we got there way early. I dropped my bottle of Cytomax. I didn't finish. SO hot. And humid.

No riding today because it is hot as hell.

Without a training ride to do, I feel like I have so much time to do things that I otherwise can't do. Like grocery shopping. Or watching a movie. Or putting away my folded laundry and ironing my shirts (too hot for that, though). How much of this have I gotten done in the hour and a half I've been home? Yeah, none.

I've decided that one win in a season doesn't cut it so unless I've specifically decided or been told to work for someone else, I'm going to stop treating non-priority races like I treat Rahway. That is to say, I won't be doing much Jenksster-style attack-all-the-time-just-to-see-the-looks-of-pain-on-everyone-else's-face kind of racing. Yeah, that kind. I think one of these races (4th of July?), I will sit in the WHOLE race and see how much easier that makes the sprint.

Raaaaaaaaachester - The Race

So the actual race:

Have a look on the website for course description, etc. Its a six or seven or eight turn beast with quite a decent rise out of the last few corners into a false flat finish. After a while, you lose count of how many corners there are.

From years past, I've learned that of all races, this one absolutely demands you be at the front all the time. When you squeeze 100 sketchball 3s and 4s onto narrow streets and alleys, people get popped like mad. There's a staging area on the back of the course and we roll to the start/finish about five minutes before the start. The instructions included the request to "parade, at 10 mph, wave to the crowd" so as to make them feel a part of it. These instructions were most definitely NOT followed. People basically went full gas to get to the start line . . . so dumb.

At least I knew the course fairly well so knew to be on the outside through most of the turns. It took a few laps to move up to the front, I took about a 2 lap flyer off the front then shut down the usual Jenksster-style stupid racing and sat in for the final 10 laps or so. There were multiple nasty crashes, I stayed upright the whole time, though came close to losing my front wheel on the white painted stripes once.

The last lap was sketchy, as expected. I had decent but not great position, maybe top 10 going into the tight and technical portion when I got nudged out and came within centimeters of hitting hay bales. I lost about 10 spots and could only make up a few in the finish that was absolutely tailor-made for me . . . managed to come around about ten guys through the finishing straight for a 7th place finish. Not a great result, but encouraging due to the powerful burst I put in to come around so many in the finish.

We quickly packed up and went home to shower and then headed back for the pro race. I stopped by the prize tent to pick up my quite generous $55 winnings and promptly gave half of that away for the crowd prime for the pro race (it was a $1300 prime!!). The pro race was sweet . . . though we pretty much missed the *real* race part, when a break of six, including Navigators' Kyle Wamsley and defending champion Hilton Clarke went away within the first fifteen minutes. Still, they were flying even when the break lapped the field. Whitey hung in there, looking really strong the whole time and may have even finished in the money (Top 25). I screamed at him and Myerson, though not as hard as I scream at karaoke.

They rung the bell for the field with three to go and we saw a pretty decent sprint and then, with two to go and the breakmates all on their own, it was pretty obvious who was going to win. Hilton Clarke crossed the line arms raised with at least a bike-length and a half for his second win in as many years at Rochester.

In the write-up in the paper the following day, all the pros that were interviewed had nothing but great things to say about the course, the promotion and the 30,000+ crowd. All in all, a great race full of awesomeness.

Raaaaaaaaachester - The Experience

Please note that if you are looking for race details, they'll be included in a separate post. For now, this post will capture all the awesomeness that was non-racing of my weekend in Rochester.

The race wasn't until 6pm so I had a lot of time to kill.

The day started off great with a solid breakfast of bagels and cream cheese with my mom and sister. We spent the late morning watching a few episodes of The Wonder Years. Man what a great program.

Early in the afternoon, we decided to go shopping at Mentality in the Village of Pittsford. Mentality is the place to shop for designer men's clothing in all of New York (outside of Manhattan). It was a little chilly in Rochester this weekend so I wanted to pick up something with long sleeves, either a Spring jacket (hopefully on sale since it is out of season) or a hoodie of some sort (same, although hoodies are never really out of season). I ended up finding a sweet reversible and oh-so-comfy zip up hoodie. The denim bar at Mentality is definitely its main attraction. Citizens of Humanity, Seven for all Mankind, Paper Denim & Cloth, Juicy Couture, Rock and Republic, True Religion . . . you name it, they have it. I probably tried on eight pairs of jeans . . . I was looking for a very light wash and found the perfect pair in a semi-destroyed pair of Paper Denims, unfortunately they only had them in 31 and I just couldn't bring myself to buy such a loose pair of jeans . . . which brings me to a pair of Rock and Republic jeans I tried on. Now, much has been made of my massive quads (mostly by myself, but who's counting?) but this was honestly ridiculous. The waist of the jeans was fine, or would have been fine, if I had been able to get them high enough to get them around my waist. As we all know, tight jeans are important and give you the must super of superhuman powers, but this was beyond anything that was called for. Anyways, I ended up settling on a single pair of Kasils, my first ever pair of dark jeans, that I was on the fence about until I just slightly folded the cuff up and decided they were awesome.

So, having bought an awesome new pair of tight jeans, I was looking good as far as the necessary pre-race prep (i.e. I had a sweet pair of tight, not the tightest but still tight, jeans going into an important race). I got down to the course quite early, had a chat with Matty White of Fiordifrutta, did some real honest-to-goodness warming up (I hate warming up) and then did my thing (see The Race post).

After the Pro race, I took the family home and met up with a old friend from high school at her apartment on East Ave (a really nice, artsy, collegial and happening area of town) to catch up. We ended up going to The Old Toad, a place I've been only twice before. I have to rate it as the best pub in Rochester and maybe the best bar in Rochester, period. Read the RocWiki entry for some details on the staff. Around 1am, as I was ordering some more pints, a guy on the corner of the bar started talking to us, asking us where we're from. When we told him we grew up in Rochester, he belts out "Raaaaaaaaaaaachester" in a deep, throaty, rumbling kind of way, imitating yet somewhat exaggerating the awful nasal Rochestarian accent. Turns out he was from England, Portsmouth, actually (or, as he said, "Por-muf") and was one of the staff though not working that night. The combination of:

1. Him being hammered
2. Us doing our best Rochester accents
3. Also us trying to do our best British accents . . .
4. . . . which then morphed into Aussie/Kiwi accents

All resulted in him ordering shot after shot after pint after pint for us (no charge) and Good Times Were Had By All. And so ended an incredible day of food, shopping, racing and drinking.

Anticipation

Rochester is Saturday at 6pm. It's my #2 priority of the year. My legs feel jumpy.

It's on.

Jumps

I did jumps today. I planned on doing ten but only did five or six. Why? Well on two occasions, I ripped my foot out of my pedal. I'm not sure how I stayed upright but I did somehow.

I did, however, set a new max output by nearly 150 watts, which leads me to believe that the PowerTap is reading things on the high side. Or maybe not. Who knows?

--

Dear Olivia,

This section is for you. It doesn't contain training, racing, or anything cycling-related. When you get back, we (and by we, I mean the three of us, because CapnChaz can beat me up) should go to some openings in New York. Maybe you could point us to one with some less expensive items, maybe starting around $50-$100? Sweet! Art is cool.

Tired, So Tired

Ronde van Mullica was awesome! We had a five-car caravan heading down there and the course is great (it's flat, very flat, mostly). The best part about the 3/4 race was that people were civilized at the start. There wasn't any of that go hard, go hard, go hard right off the bat (we had 47 miles still to cover) and it was quite a gentlemanly pace with some light conversation and good laughs.

After about five or six minutes, I went to the front to set tempo. Mostly, it was to warm up but it was also to discourage attacks and give Mark an armchair ride. For about ten or twelve minutes, I sat on the front, spinning the cranks, well within my limit, not burning matches. It wasn't a blistering pace, but it was fast enough that it was single file for six or so guys until the arrowhead formed. That was soooo awesome and encouraging to see.

Despite the not-so-great result we produced, I had a great time. I did have a momentary lapse in concentration and allowed a five-man break to get too much time on us before getting back on the front to ride tempo and keep it reasonable, but I suppose I can't be controlling the race the entire time . . . just most of the time. Since I didn't have to worry about saving my energy for the sprint (other than to lead Mark out) and every serious attack I'd make would get an immediate response, I took a lot of pleasure in simply controlling the front by riding just fast enough to discourage any further break attempts. So much fun.

The P/1/2/3 went off as predicted: a large break (really almost half the field, including all the big guns) went at about four miles in. I saw it, knew it was THE move and said to myself, "No way." The second race was purely for training purposes to get the mileage up. I ended up pulling the plug after the fourth lap (of six) since my knee started to bother me and I was getting quite tired.

All in all, a GREAT day of racing. I'm really looking forward to Rocky Hill as another opportunity to work for someone else and control the race as it should be!

De Ronde

Ronde van Mullica is tomorrow. It's exceedingly flat. I love that. However, I find myself not really caring about my performance. I'm already quite focused on Rochester next weekend. I have this week all planned out and, as long as work cooperates, I think I'll be going really, really strong next Saturday.

If I can last to the 115th or whatever mile it is for combining the 3/4 and the P/1/2/3, I'd like to mix it up in the sprint tomorrow. We'll see how that goes. It'll be like my own personal little Philly. Minus 40 miles. Minus Lemon Hill. Minus EuroPros. Minus Manayunk. So nothing like Philly.

The Fourth of July weekend and day off (Wednesday) will mark that last of my long-ish rides for the season (I think) and I'll start getting in gear for the last third or so of the season, focusing mainly on Altoona but also hoping for good form at the NJ Crit Champs and a good Labor Day showing. Then it's a bit of relaxing for a week or two before showing up AngryMark and CapnChaz on the 'cross scene. Muddy buddies beware . . .

On The Subject of Music

I recently rediscovered the awesomeness that is "the only station that matters, 90.5 WBER" and have been listening to it at work. The station is a school- and community-supported effort that has been broadcasting to the elitist music snobs of the Greater Rochester Area since 1985. It's completely independent of all the ClearChannel/CBS craptastic stations you find dominating the radio. They play one of the most eclectic mixes of songs I've ever come across. You'll start off listening to soft indie pining, then get slammed with some screamo only to be followed up by some electronica/techno. The song sequence is almost as entertaining as the songs themselves. Their webpage is rather uninformative but you can access the streaming broadcast through it. I also permanently have the yes.com playlist for WBER open. Only problem is that they play some really off-the-wall stuff and the playlist can only recognize 2/3rds of the stuff, at most.

I also had the pleasure of meeting Chris Kiehne, my recently wedded friend Koops' cousin, who has a few CDs and random tracks of his own. Check out his myspace page to get a sampling of his style.

--

I rode my velocipede today and it was awful. I did some really fun and hard intervals yesterday with Todd and really felt it today. Plus I've lacked a bit of sleep recently . . . and by posting this, I'm depriving myself of even more much-needed rest. Oh well.

Yesterday after Todd went home, I very nearly got crashed by an inconsiderate and completely oblivious asshole on the road going across the canal at first bridge (is that Van Cleef?). The asshole wasn't behind the wheel of a car, wasn't jogging along the side of the road, nay, the asshole wasn't even human! Some bird decided to swoop down out of the trees right in front of me and as I flailed about trying to ward it off, I almost ate it. Stupid birds.

Jeans

Jeans are a very important thing, maybe even the most important thing.

First off, they are probably going to end up being the most comfortable article of clothing that you can acceptably wear in public. In this regard, it is important for jeans to break in quickly. I've bought a few pair over the years that are still stiff and crinkly after three months of solid wash and wear. That is poor jean performance. Be careful, however, when buying jeans that already feel like you've owned them for a year or so. They'll get "overbroken" and start to sag around the ankles and get wrinkles (or what women like to call age lines). What you should look for in level of break-in-ability is a firm yet supple denim that allows movement but at the same time holds all your parts together in the right ways.

Second off, jeans say many things about their wearer. However, not everything about the jeans speak at the same volume. Whispering quietly are the belt loops, bare loops tell tales of spontaneity and excitement while loops wrapped around a leather belt speak of consistency and tradition. On women's jeans, should the belt loops have the distinction of containing a necktie (coordinated to match the rest of the outfit, of course) or a scarf, listen closely because if you turn your head just right, you just might hear a touch of class and elegance juxtaposed with style and lighthearted playfulness. Speaking at a conversational volume, the fly also communicates the wearer's state of mind. A zipper-fly tells of practicality and pragmatism; it's all about function. The button fly, however, expresses an air of mystery; while well-worn button-fly jeans are just as easy-on/easy-off as a zipper-fly, the buttons and that extra layer of denim function as a bit of extra security. Never in the history of button-fly jeans has anyone forgotten to entirely close the fly. The same obviously can't be said for the zipper-fly. This brings us to the stitching on the back pockets. If the belt loops and fly were having lunch together, they'd both be talking about how obnoxiously loud the back pocket stitching was being on her cell phone across the café. The back pocket stitching really says it all. It's the shape and layering of the cake to the fly's icing and the belt loops' candles. So next time you're observing someone's beautiful (or not-so-beautiful) derrière, take note of all the things those jeans say, be it the shout of the stitching or the barely-audible yet wise words of the belt loops.

Last off, jeans give you super powers. The mechanism whereby this occurs is currently a hotly contested debate amongst the world's elite jeanologists and quantum physicists. While the mechanism is not entirely understood, there can be no debate about the end result: given the right jeans, anything is possible.

Now, for only $300, you can sign up for my eight-week program that I developed from eight years shopping at denim bars across the world. It's called JENKS KWON DO!

Philly

Rode to Philly today with Don. The following things were great:

-The weather
-The ride
-The comments from the peanut gallery
-The post-ride rugelach
-The race
-The drive home conversation (especially the logo we decided on for RU-branded Cannondales)

The following things were not great:

-The Calhoun St bridge from Trenton, NJ to Morrisville, PA
-The flat tire
-'ello, guvnah!

JJ Haedo is all kinds of fast (in the US, at least). T-Mobile absolutely screwed up the leadout. Eisel was deposited at the right point (~120m to the line) however the pace was WAY too slow.

I screamed at Myerson with 6 to go in a remote section of the park and he perked his head up and looked around like a prairie dog emerging from its hole. Good times. Great oldies. 93BBF.

Intermediate Sprint (Post)

I'm tired. Hope this holds you over. Now just to break it off with a little preview of the remix:

Soon races will become a game of cat-and-mouse for me. But not cat-and-mouse in the Phill Liggett sense, more: I'm going to toy around with the field until I feel like eating them for lunch.

Yep, that's all you get for now.

Teh Awesomer Wedding

Ok, Blogger, let's have a truce for now so I can write this post.

Last Thursday, I drove to beautiful and historic Hillsborough, NC for the Monson-Younger wedding. It took 7 hours to get there but was absolutely worth it. I got to the hotel with just enough time to shower, clean up and change for that day's event: the bachelor party. We even had our own coozies that were appropriately labeled Monson's Last Day on Earth. A recounting of the evening's events in full follows:

this section edited for content and brevity
. . . had a few beers on the bus . . . had a few more beers at the first bar . . . had a few beers with dinner . . . had a few beers after dinner . . . stumbled upon an in-progress speed-dating event . . . had a few more beers . . . got kicked out of our final destination . . . observed that every inch of the bathroom EXCEPT the toilet was covered in [name withheld to protect the innocent]'s regurgitated dinner . . . passed out . . .
end edited section

We went to lunch Friday at the very tasty Bandidos in downtown historic Hillsborough, nursing hangovers and beers.

Good Mexican and tasty beers

After lunch we got prettied up and went to the gorgeous and historic Younger home for some cocktails and snacks. The house was built in the 1820s and is absolutely magnificent. I wish I had brought my camera. As the wedding party departed for the rehearsal ceremony, a few of us stayed behind to make sure the bottoms of our beers and cocktails were thoroughly dry.

The rehearsal dinner was held at yet another historic location in Hillsborough. Dinner included baked beans, chicken and BBQ (the real kind) and was delicious (as is anything that Koops has a hand in). A blues band was playing most of the evening and was really fantastic, though I must admit that the times they sounded best were when either Monson or Andy was playing the harmonica with them.

Arriving at the rehearsal dinner with three beautiful ladies

After the dinner and many inebriated speeches and toasts, the younger lot of us (not to be confused with the Younger lot of us) headed to the Wooden Nickel, a great little bar in the downtown area. To give the NJ folks a sense of space, think Clydz and then cut that in half. It was small. However, they had both Blue Moon and #9 on tap, so I was happy. All I can say is that good times were had by most.

The following day I made the 2 hour drive to Davidson to have lunch with my best friend from college and to surprise another one of our friends. You might think driving four hours just to spend an hour eating pizza and garlic knots with a couple guys is crazy. You would be wrong, with this crowd, it's worth every mile.

I got back just in time to shower and put on my best for the ceremony. Most weddings are beautiful, however, this one was exquisite. Before Koops even walked in, I could feel some tears welling up at the first few chords of Canon in D. The whole process was short but oh-so-sweet. Unfortunately, there was no flash photography allowed inside the church, so this is all you get of the ceremony:

Andy does a great job watching the door despite being quite intoxicated

I'll spare you most of the details of the reception other than that it continued in the style of the ceremony: exquisite. I got my dances out of the way quickly:

First with the bride . . .

. . . then with the groom

After the reception we all went back over to the Wooden Nickel to cap off the evening, except for the newlyweds, of course, as they had some business to attend to. I had a Drink Your Blue Moon Faster Race, losing the first heat but winning the second. Note that this is not to be confused with a chugging contest. A Drink Your Blue Moon Faster Race is F1 Series to a chugging contest's NASCAR (i.e. it's not a hillbilly activity). Good times, again. The evening was capped off with 2.5 hours of excellent conversation in an attempt to sober up before going to bed to avoid the always-dreadful long-drive-home-with-a-hangover. At 4:30, my head hit the pillow immensely satisfied.

Sunday morning came very quickly and I felt the effects of limited sleep over the previous three days (not so much hungover though . . . thanks Marth). I also had a sinking feeling in my stomach, the same one I had on my drive home from Davidson after graduation. No matter how much we argue, how much we insult, how much we glare, I always know I can count on a few people and most of those few were in attendance that weekend. This picture of Andy I snagged around 9AM on Sunday morning pretty much captures the whole weekend.

Passed out on top of the sheets in full tux, but with enough sense to remove his wallet

The weekend was simultaneously one of the best and worst of my life. Why it was one of the best is easy to see. The problem is, being one of the best made leaving on Sunday awfully difficult. It's a give-and-take, I suppose. Given the chance, though, I'd do it all over again, exactly the same way, in a heartbeat.

Now I just need more friends to get married!

Blogger is Stupid

Blogger blows it out my backside. This is the second time in a row I've lost my wedding post. What a load of crap.

Dang It!

I made an awesome and long wedding post but it got deleted when Opera crashed (or I might have accidentally hit the X . . . whatever).  I'll reformulate it on Wednesday and put it up.

In the meantime, I'm sick of being an emo bitch . . . time to get serious about racing.  Instead of bitching and moaning, I'll be doing sprint workouts 2x per week.  They won't know what hit 'em.