Dear Volkswagen,

You need to bring this car to the United States. Let's face it, you blew it big time with that whole diesel thing. You owe us one, and by "us" I mean bike racers. Let me build my case though.

We are an odd bunch when it comes to vehicles. You would think that bike racers would be a bunch of Prius driving tree huggers, or that we would just buy a Honda Odyssey to get all of our stuff and friends to the races. That however is rarely the case. We race bikes for a reason, and a Prius or mini van isn't going to get us into and out of a traffic circle faster than the dude driving the lumbering SUV. We want a car that can hold a couple of bikes, accommodate a roof rack, and still be fun to drive.

I've been racing for a while, and for a long time the parking lot at races had a bunch of Subaru Outback's in them. It was a sporty wagon, with all wheel drive, a manual transmission option, and it got decent gas mileage. Between my wife and I, we ultimately owned three of them, including one pretty cool XT model with a manual transmission and turbo. Plenty of friends and co-workers accused me of being a lesbian while driving those cars, but let's face it, they were good cars and if I was a lady, I'd still dig the ladies. It was an accusation that I could live with. Then Subaru went ahead and super sized their wagon. Basically they turned it into a low riding SUV, dropped the turbo, and I'm pretty sure they don't even offer a manual transmission anymore. Subaru? No thank you.

As time went on, I looked at other options. The Audi A4 wagon was pricey, didn't offer much storage, and was later discontinued. The Prius? As you might imagine I actually never looked at that option. The Subaru WRX? It has only been offered as a sedan in recent years. So what was a racer to do? As it turned out, VW came to our rescue. Sporty wagon with a manual transmission? Yes please. Turbo diesel that could go 600 miles on a tank? You bet. Environmentally conscious at the same time? Bonus! I could laugh at those losers in their Prius's too, and laugh I did. All Wheel Drive, or 4MOTION as you call it, would have been nice but given the limited car options out there it was a sacrifice that could be made.

As the last few years have gone by, it's amazing how many VW diesel wagons began to fill the race parking lots. These days you can't swing a rolled tubular without hitting a tdi wagon. As a bonus, VW was even a USAC sponsor, and you could get a VW for $500 below invoice if you were a USAC member. Actually you still can. Of course now VW you have let us down. It turns out the tdi wasn't what we thought it was. We were/are polluting the environment, and when fixed it is unlikely that our SportWagen's will be, well, sporty. Worst of all, WORST OF ALL, those Prius drivers are laughing at us. That stings the most.

So clearly VW, you need to do something to make it up to us. The market is yours to lose or keep. My advice? Bring the Golf R SportWagen to the US and include a manual transmission, not some Busch League dual clutch automatic. If that can't happen, you could at least have the common decency to give us a GTI version of the SportWagen. I really think you should just go all in though and bring the R with a manual. As much as it pains me to say this, I currently own a GTI, and my wife recently acquired a Golf R. I'm usually fairly secure in my masculinity but knowing that she has 292hp under the hood while I don't is a bitter pill to swallow. Sure she let's me drive her car sometimes, but if you brought the Golf R SportWagen I'd have the following:
1. A car that is almost as fast as my wife's.
2. A car with 4MOTION that could get me out of a muddy parking lot after a CX race.
3. A car that held more bikes and gear than our GTI or Golf R.
4. A car that quietly gave the finger to all Prius drivers.

And you would have:
1. My forgiveness for lying to me and destroying the environment under false pretenses.
2. My money.

So in closing, do we have a deal?

Love always,
Skinny Phil

Cyclocross is a weird hobby, but there are a lot of weird hobbies

Showing Papillon's is definitely a weird hobby in my estimation. I realize, that as a passionate cyclocross racer, I am living in a glass house though.

My grandmother passed away this summer, and I found myself in a Holiday Inn in southern Ohio on rather short notice. As I was pulling into the hotel after an 8 hour drive with my sister, it was immediately evident that there was some sort of dog show going on. I was initially excited, because as you may or may not know, I absolutely love dogs. My wife and I actually share our house with three of them. The thought of a bunch of cool dogs running around was a very appealing idea while I contemplated the loss of my last grandparent, and on some level wrestled with my own mortality.

I was pretty bummed to find out that the show was dedicated to Papillon's. As far as I am concerned, they more closely resemble cats than anything we have bounding around our house. With that said, it did spark the idea that as odd as their hobby may seem, I can probably relate to it, being that I am an outlier who races 'cross. Heck, who's heard of 'cross? Even the average triathlete has little idea of what 'cross is. With that said, "tri people are to cyclists" as "Papillon's are to dogs". There's a connection, but it's a loose one.

Papillion "show" people are an odd bunch. Exercise did not appear to be particularly relevant to the owners. Smoking did seem to be relevant. Scooters weren't uncommon either. Actually a Rascal could make one heck of a pit vehicle, so I won't judge . . . too much. I will say this, Papillion's are rougher on a hotel than a bunch of 'cross racers after even the muddiest of races. Those dogs go to the bathroom EVERYWHERE.

As I spent a few days casually observing the "show people" my mind started to wander. Is there an Adam Myerson of the group? Which is to say, are some of the owners dyeing their dogs hair or otherwise cheating, while one owner doggedly rails against the cheating? (No pun intended there by the way, I just noticed that lame pun while giving this a quick proof read.) Does one of the dog owners have a tattoo that will be removed via a cheese grater if they get busted, and if so, what does that tattoo look like??!! Is there an owner that throws a ton of money at their hobby and has a "mega team" of dogs much like Cyclocross World? Is there a Richard Sachs of the Papillion world who breeds their dogs in the most traditional way and weaves their dogs collars by hand in a loom imported from France? I assume France is the motherland of Papillion's, but who knows? Is there a Single Speed equivalent that rails against authority and promotes beer hand ups for dog handlers and creates F-ACK stickers for their dogs and crates? (Hopefully some of you get the FUCI reference. I was told if you have to explain a joke, it wasn't funny. I suspect that may be the case here).

Anyway, the mind continues to wander . . . do they have a Dan Timmerman? Is there a Sick WHHHAAATTT!!!! dude? A Skinny Phil? A Chip Baker?  A Jen Vander Veer with cool/weird socks? Actually, I can answer that one, unique fashion seemed to be a requirement among the Papillion People.

The Papillion People are definitely a tribe that we may have something in common with. There is also a lot that we don't have in common. Second hand smoke will probably keep our paths from intersecting to any large degree. Kind of sad, because some of them had some really sweet airbrushed denim jackets with Papillion's on the back, and I think we could learn a lot from that. Sadly I didn't get any pictures of the jackets, but I did snag a picture of a sweet team vehicle. See above. I think that vehicle may have best represented the Pointway Performance of the Papillion world. The running dog does seem to embody the Pointway logo. A caveman with a labcoat. Were they the Tim O'Shea of Papillion show people? Unfortunately our paths never crossed, so I'll probably die wondering.

Anyway, sorry for typo's. I've been on the road since 6am and figured I'd put some hotel time into updating the blog at long last.

Cyclocross. Sport of the future.

Hey my brother, can I borrow a copy of your "Hey Soul Classics?"

No, my brother, you have to go buy your own.

A classic line from what is now, at least to the kids today, a classic movie. I was reminded of this line while reading Phil Gaimon's "Pro Cycling on $10 a Day." I would love to loan you my copy of the book, but no, my brother, you have to go buy your own. If you would like to borrow a book, I'm sure I have an old copy of "It's Not About the Bike" lying around somewhere. That book you can borrow. You should actually crack open your wallet and buy Phil's book. After you read it, you'll be glad you did. First and foremost, it's a great book. Second, he deserves the money.

If you have ever wondered what your life may have been like if you were just a little faster, this book might make you happy that you were born with middle of the pack genetics. That was the case for me in any event. Phil provides what appears to be a very honest look at what it can take to become, and actually stay, a Pro cyclist. To a large extent it isn't pretty. For a few, it might be a quick ride to the top, but for most, it is a long road of lousy pay, bad food, crappy hotel rooms, road rash, broken promises, misguided team directors, and lots and lots of training while living like a monk.

His book is refreshingly honest. Surprisingly honest in many cases. If a sponsor or racer did right by Phil, he will let you know. Although he has moved on from the Bissell team, he still regularly pimps their vacuums on social media. If a team did wrong by him, well, he will definitely let you know that, and he'll name some names while doing it.

In the Twitter age we occasionally get brief glimpses of what is actually on a Pro cyclists mind, but by and large we are outsiders. The public gets to know very little about what really goes on amongst the professional ranks. This book truly pulls back the curtain, giving far more than a glimpse of what it might be like if you were a little faster, and whole lot more motivated. I should probably remove the word "you" and change it to "I."

After reading the book, I wondered what I would do if I was born with Phil Gaimon's genetics. If I had to guess, I'm guessing that I would have wasted them to a large extent, and I'd still have my day job doing everything that Lloyd Dobbler didn't want to do. For the record, here's what he didn't want to do: "I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that."

Well, that's my second Say Anything reference in one post, so that's a sure sign that it's time to wrap this thing up.

The only problem I have with the book is that it turns out Phil's nickname at one point was Skinny Phil. I guess there can be two Skinny Phil's, but let's face it, Phil Gaimon could probably kick my ass in an arm wrestling competition. I don't want to be known as Skinnier Phil, so I'm going to keep going with my non-ironic nickname of Skinny Phil. Maybe some day if Phil Gaimon does a 'cross race in New England, I can put him into the tape as he's lapping me. There can be only one . . .

So to recap, buy the book. Don't loan it to anyone. Be glad if you have a stable job, unless of course you're one of the rare individuals that has what it takes to make it. If you've read Phil's book, you'll have been warned.

Sincerely,
Skinnier Phil

Journey4Jason

So usually my posts are fairly benign with a few self deprecating jabs at myself or the crazy sport that is cycling. This post will be a little different. With that said, if I can find a way to make fun of Prius drivers while talking about Acute Myeloid Leukemia, I will certainly take that opportunity.

Jason Ceresoli is a 2011 graduate of Chittenango High School and a student at RIT. He was recently diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia. Jason has undergone several weeks of treatment and is currently in Buffalo where he received a bone marrow transplant. 

My friend and training partner Tim O'Shea coached Jason in Cross Country when Jason was a kid in Chittenango. A couple of years ago I happened to be on a group training ride and met Jason. He was riding with a cast on his broken wrist and after a few minutes of talking with him, it was clear that he was a great kid, and a tough one at that. Somehow the topic of Tim came up, and Jason talked about what a great coach Tim had been, and we both talked about Tim's propensity for absurd physical challenges and abundant energy levels. Long story short, the two were soon reacquainted and Tim was back to coaching Jason, this time on the bike.

Anyone who has worked closely with a coach knows that they quickly learn a lot about an athlete. Are you physically strong? More importantly are you mentally strong? Are you willing to make sacrifices to reach your goals? When faced with adversity, how do you respond?

In Tim's words, Jason is a hard charger. If you talk to him, or read his blog, it is abundantly clear that he is wise beyond his years and is in fact a hard charger. Not many people in his situation would bring their trainer into the hospital, so enough said. Remember the cast he had on when I met him?

In the spirit of Jason's Journey http://jasonceresoli.blogspot.com/ Tim and I are headed on a journey of our own. It goes without saying that ours will pale in comparison to Jason's, but as I mentioned, Tim seldom does anything the easy way, and this isn't the first or last time that Tim will drag me WAY out of my comfort zone. Any normal person would hold a spaghetti dinner, but not Tim. Jason deserves a fundraiser that embodies his positive attitude and fighting spirit. So in that spirit, Tim is headed to the High Peaks to hike and bike his way to raising some cash to help Jason kick cancer's ass.

I've rambled on long enough. Here are the details. Tim and I will head up to Lake Placid next Tuesday the 17th. Wednesday morning we will start hiking for 24 hours with Tim leading the charge and me there in a support role. Tim will hike as many peaks as possible in 24 hours. My best guess is that he'll get in 12-18 of them and hike/run/climb over 70 miles. He will also ride a couple of road sections between peaks by bike. I'll have the "easy" part and I'll probably only need to hike/run/climb 25-35 miles. As a cyclocross racer who specializes in racing REALLY hard for 45-60 minutes, I could be in over my head, but some recent trail runs have me thinking that I probably won't slow Tim down too much . . .

So do me a huge favor, sponsor Tim with a $ amount per peak. Whether it's $1, $5, $10, or $100, any amount would be greatly appreciated. Our top donor so far committed to $100 per peak with a note that said "Go ahead, hurt me!" That kind of generosity, and enthusiasm to be generous, could bring a salty tear to a glass eyeball.

You can e-mail your per peak donation amount to Tim at: journey4jason@gmail.com

After the dust has settled, Tim will let you know how many peaks were bagged and he will send you a link to http://www.gofundme.com/9w9w3k where you can settle up. If this is all too complicated, feel free to go right to the site and make a donation right now!

It would be lame if we didn't document the process leading up to and during the event, so please follow us on Twitter at @journey4jason

We will be live tweeting from the peaks when we have cell coverage, and we'll get a pic from the top of each peak, so please follow us! If you're a Facebook person, you can also "Like" Tim's coaching business as we'll posting updates there as well. Just "Like" Pointway Performance.

Thank you!
Skinny Phil

Dear Road Racing, it's not you, it's me. Love, Skinny

It will come as no surprise to anyone that I prefer 'cross racing over road racing. Road season is now approaching full swing, but I've yet to feel even a moments regret for not mounting up. My routine has settled into travel early in the week, legitimate efforts on Thursday or Friday, a long run on Saturday, and a long ride on Sunday. While I'm traveling? More running.

I'm excited for my racing friends. It's been a long winter and those that have "stuck to the plan" are reaping the benefits of their work. Ironically my fitness seems to be ok. A normal person would want to test it out, but as most of your know, my normal may be a few clicks away from  . . . well, normal. I've been giving this a lot of thought, and I think it really boils down to two things. First and foremost, I drive a lot for work. The idea of sitting in a pack for 60 miles, or even 40 seems like pure torture, particularly after driving to the race. Second, and of equal importance, most Cat 4 road racers are complete and total idiots. I'm not talking about you guys. If you're reading this, I'm sure you aren't an idiot.

I should probably get a little more specific though. During the week I may drive 16-20 hours. While driving, I see tons of idiots. On occasion, I'm probably an idiot as well, because let's face it, a genius would find a way to make a living without so much travel. I'm in a glass house here, but here's my problem, people are stupid. They throw cigarette butts out of their windows, drive 64mph in the fast lane, slam on the brakes when they see the po-po, try to back-up at the EZ Pass booth when they realize they don't actually have an EZ Pass, drive rear wheel drive Mustangs in snow storms, text, put make-up on, swerve to the left before turning right, take crappy lines into traffic circles, pass you at 80mph and then slow to 58 repeatedly, and the worst offenders . . . they drive Prius's. They are the worst. I could go on, but I won't.

The driving can make for long weeks. I love my work, but once it's over, I'm not looking to extend the negative aspects of my week into the weekend. This brings me to my problems with road racing, and more specifically road racers. I'm a Cat 4 on the road. This isn't going to change any time soon. It is what it is. Cat 4 for ever. So here's my problem, bike racers, particularly Cat 4's are stupid. They slam on their brakes and yell "SLOWING," they constantly cross the yellow line prompting racers and officials to yell at them, they half wheel, they weave around, they drop water bottles causing panic in the field because the average road racer can't bunny hop a piece of chewing gum, they get bossy and scream pull to the right after they've been dropped, they refuse to take pulls because they have a teammate up the road even though they are dropped and winning is a lost cause, if they actually make it to the end with the lead group they tie up the finish by not sprinting, they complain about everything, everything . . . and some of them even drive Prius's. They are the worst. Except Dave, you're cool Dave, you get a pass.

I think that pretty much sums it up. I'm like a younger, less talented Andy Rooney. Full of anger, and devoid of solutions.

The good news is that there is a circuit race this weekend. It's not quite a crit, but entertaining and sketchy enough to keep my mind off of Prius drivers and racers.

Hope to see you there.

Much Love,
Skinny Phil

USA Cycling?

This blog post has been kicking around in my head for a few weeks now. I don't think that the subject has really percolated enough to justify a well thought out post, but in the spirit of creating more questions than answers, I'm going to take a shot at it early. If Fox News doesn't need to get their facts straight, why should I care? Perhaps the Jon Stewart of cycling blogs will intervene and set me straight if I get too far from the truth.

Here's what I know: USA Cycling is effectively raising the cost of an annual license for most of us by $10. On the plus side, we can now race USAC sanctioned MTB races with that same license, which kind of sort of saves us $20. On the minus side I haven't done a local MTB race that required a USAC license . . . ever.

USAC is increasing the cost of a 1 Day license for road and CX by $5, so it will now cost someone $15 to race with a 1 Day license. I know this is where someone will chime in and say that with the cost of gas and a Starbucks on the way to a race, what's another $5? Well, it's another $5, and as far as I'm concerned ANYTHING that discourages new racers from trying out our sport is stupid. As some of you know, I co-run a Wednesday night "Training" series during the summer. For the last few years we've covered the cost of someones first race. I've personally eaten a bunch of $5 dollar bills in the interest of growing the sport. If I can afford to eat it, so can USAC. Every year, someone gets hooked and takes a deep dive into racing. There's a reason your first hit of Crack is free. If it's good stuff, you'll be back for more.

Every year, someone locally starts an e-mail thread suggesting that we ditch USAC and find a better way. As a racer, race promoter, and generally speaking, middle of the road guy, I usually read the dialog with interest, but sit on the sidelines. This year I finally took it upon myself to go the extra mile and do some research. At the end of it I was as confused as ever. I read up on OBRA, tried to figure out why Colorado went back to USAC after going it alone, tried to figure out who USCX and NABRA were, and listened to a 30 minute podcast interview of OBRA Executive Director Kenji Sugahara. He made some really good points, and they definitely have their association dialed in. At the end of the day, there are many reasons to go their route, but it would be a tough sell in a small market. Most of us would end up with two licenses locally, because most of us will still need to do USAC races.

I'm definitely going to tread lightly here. We are really fortunate in Central NY to have some great officials who are very generous with their time. I have great respect for these people both on and off of the bike. I have enough respect for them, that I even defer to them to some extent and I believe that if they believe in USAC, maybe that's enough for me. The Gen X'er in me is very cynical by nature though, and sometimes it's tough to overcome nature.

The cynic in me struggles with the fee increases. The cynic in me understands why they won't allow beer hand ups in a CX race, but thinks that it limits growth and fun in the sport. The cynic in me thinks their "Race Clean" program is great, but doesn't really apply to grass roots CX. The cynic in me understands why a weeknight training series can't be a "race series," but again limits the growth of the sport. The cynic in me also understands that a racer that isn't attached to a USAC sanctioned team isn't supposed to wear a piece of clothing with sponsor logos on it, but I also think that if a Cat 5 newbie wants to dress like Peter Sagan or wear a polka dot TdF jersey who the heck cares. Trust me, the other racers will sort it out through shame. I also think that if a racer wants to wear a kit with sponsor logo's on it, they should be able to without being associated to a USAC member team.

Anyway, I'm rambling now and I really don't have a point. I do know this though, an annual CX license for OBRA is $15. Their 1 Day license is $5. It's $35 to promote a race, and it's only $30 if you pay in cash or check. The per racer fee is cheaper, and they seem to generally do a better job of fostering Grass Roots racing. I understand that USAC is trying to create a legitimate feeder system to allow talented racers to find their way to the big leagues. My question is, is that for the greater good? Is it better to have a feeder system for a few, or should we be looking to grow the sport? I know that Steve Johnson would argue that they are growing the sport, and he's been quoted as saying that "good role models" i.e. fast Pro's do grow the sport via their visibility. Cough Cough, like LA did.

Well, as I said, I don't have any answers. If I didn't have a day job, I'd take a serious look at alternatives. Since I do have a day job, I'll just sit on the sidelines. For now. I love racing my bike and sour grapes won't prevent me from getting a license or promoting a USAC race, but USAC does have a knack for making one think about alternatives.

Goals . . . Old and New

By all accounts this was a pretty good season. I've officially shut down the 'Cross machine, and as the New Year approaches this seems like an obvious time to reflect while looking forward.

2012 was something of a train wreck. Mrs. Skinny and I moved into a new house two days after I co-promoted Critz Cross, and despite salvaging some late season form with the help of Pointway Performance, I just never felt like I was at 100%.

For 2013 I knew I'd have the same challenges we all have with the training/life balance, but this year it would be manageable and I'd have a full year of structured training under my belt. For 2013 I had one goal. I wanted to win a race. I didn't care if that race was the kids race at the smallest grass roots race. I would put a five year old through the tape for a glimpse at a win. Thankfully, in the words of Tim O'shea, "Preparation met opportunity." I'm something of a mudder. This season didn't present a lot of mud, but 5 minutes before the Masters race at Cobb's Hill, the skies opened up. The rain was torrential. It was raining frogs, but there were no locusts, so the race went off after a slight delay. No one really wants to hear someone recount a race victory, because no one like a braggart, but suffice it to say, being 135lbs with FMB Supermuds helped to pave the way. My power file from the race wasn't particularly spectacular, but good coaching and training met opportunity. It was the first time since 2009 that I was on the top step.

The following weekend I raced in Gloucester. That was a polite reminder that keeping things in perspective wouldn't be a problem. I didn't crack the top 60 of their Masters 35+ race. Good thing I live 6 hours from New Belgium. I love racing there, and often regret that I'm not closer, but racing in central New York is certainly better for my self esteem.

As luck would have it, I pulled off another late season win. This time in snow. Something about sliding around just feels right to me. Fast and dry just never works in my favor. That probably goes a long way to explaining why I don't particularly enjoy road racing.

Which leads me to my goals. Two things I know about goals are that they should be written down, and you should tell someone. It also helps if they are realistic to the extent that goals can be (get out of your comfort zone, but also realize that dunking a basketball at 5'9" and 41 years old is unlikely to happen). The goals should also mean something. You can have a goal of saving a million dollars, but what does that mean? Numbers don't mean much. What does the million dollars do for you, and once you have it how will your life be better, or more importantly, will it be better? Also, will the sacrifices you make to get there be worth the destination? Lastly, goals should be measurable.

So my 2014 cycling goals:
Do more Crits. Every time I do one, I have a blast. Almost every time anyway, getting blown off of the back isn't a blast. I also think that Crits will create a little more snap in the legs for 'cross, because at the end of the day it's really all about 'cross.

MTB more. It's fun, and really helps with my CX handing skills. Good goals require you to get out of your comfort zone, and MTBing gets me out of my comfort zone. Way out sometimes.

Gain some weight. Maybe 7 pounds. No less than 5. Muscle of course, most of it in my upper body. That may seem counter intuitive, and I don't expect anyone to feel bad for me, but being this skinny isn't usually an asset in CX. You'd think it would make me a good climber as well, but I've always excelled at repetitive bursts of speed more than the steady state efforts required in climbing. I need to get stronger for popping out of corners, carrying my bike, and to reach my next goal . . .

Learn how to bunny hop logs and other mid-sized obstacles confidently and without sacrificing speed. I can think of 3 races this year where my inability to consistently hop logs or steps was the difference between a decent result and a poor one. If you take a look at my results on crossresults, it won't take a rocket scientist to figure out which races had me out of my comfort zone. I'll save you the work though. Uncle Sam, Ellison, and Beth Cup. I was sick at Beth Cup, but my inability to bunny hop the log was as embarrassing as it was time consuming. Their log wasn't tucked away in the woods, it was right by the pavilion. Did anyone see me running the log and think less of me? Maybe, maybe not, but it definitely made me slower.

Lastly, I want to be able to dismount and remount confidently on my right hand side. There are courses where this would be a big advantage. A huge advantage? Probably not, but a worthwhile advantage when I'm chasing down Dave Faso! (Picture me shaking my fist angrily in the air as I type his name). Just kidding Dave, but I think you and I spent more time bumping into each other this season than we did with our wives

CX is a tough sport. I love it, but if you're reading this, you already know that. I love that someone with average genetics can hold their own against people who would otherwise be faster. If the only cycling discipline was time trail, I'd be basket weaving competitively. Years ago, I just wanted to learn how to eliminate my stutter step when remounting. Then I wanted to learn how to ride a downhill U-turn. Then I wanted to learn how to dismount closer to the barriers. Every season it's something new. For most of us, our genetic potential is probably in the rear view mirror, but that doesn't mean that we can't do more with what we have. Pointway Performance is in charge of maximizing the engine. The rest is up to me.

Goals. Write them down and tell someone. Feel free to leave them in the comments section. No one reads this blog anyway!

It Don't Get Much Better Than This (aka Sometimes, your cross bike punches you in the face…)

“Sometimes, your cross bike punches you in the face…"

 ... so went a tweet sent out by Justin Lindine after some kind of facial mishap on a stair run-up at the Catamount Grand Prix. 

The timing of this tweet hit a bit close to home knowing that both Skinny Phil & myself  are feeling the effects of a bit of arse kicking at the hands of the CX bikes.   I tried a remount using my ribs (bad idea) on Saturday at Critz 'Cross & Skinny upped the game on Sunday at Kirkland CX when he tested a corollary to a law of physics that goes something like a bike in motion tends to stay in motion unless you hit a stake.   And to our three followers, do not fret, we'll be fine and back at it next week. 

So after our respective Sunday races, Skinny & I found ourselves parked on the tailgate of buddy Wes' pickup talking cx, life, more cx, work and even more cx.   The sun had just poked through and the temperature seemed to rise just enough from sorta pleasant to September perfect ... oh yeah, should probably mention Wes' truck had a stash of cold Blue Lights in the back.   As we sat there, a few of our cx buds gathered to chat, trade a war story and a laugh or two & discuss where we would be racing next weekend. 

It was then that it occurred to me yet again, as it seems to at the start of each new cx season -- that this is why I love cx --  the fairly serious but not too serious competition, a cold beer, the fleeting warmth of the autumn sun and most importantly - the people.   As I was soaking it all in, one of our local buddies rides up with a big smile, a brew in his hand, and while clearly in the midst of a good post race glow gestures around the race area and says "Man, it don't get much better than this".  And by damn I think he was right.

Here we were - we were chillin with our people - the people - 'cross people.

I am not ignorant . . .

I am stupid. The two are often confused, but they are in fact quite different. My biggest fear is that, as Ron White says, "You can't fix stupid."

Let me take a step back though. Four years ago Dave Faso and I started a local training series called the Tuesday Night Training Series. I was in decent shape back then, and the fields were small so it was easy to look like I knew what I was doing. Fast forward a couple of seasons, and my summer time race form had . . . what's the word I'm looking for? Well as a stupid guy, I'll just say "form . . . bad." I spent most of the last two seasons dropping off early to "film the finish." By film the finish I mean I got popped on the first lap, chased like an idiot for a lap, rode a lap pedaling squares and then quit a lap early to film the finish. It became a running joke.

At some point in time last summer I started to feel like a fraud. Granted I'm 100% committed to CX and all things tarmac are an afterthought at best, but I'm co-running a series, racing with the A's, giving out pre-race instructions, and sending out weekly recaps to the local listserv. Getting popped every week is embarrassing. I started feeling like Milos from Seinfeld. Tennis instructor by day, horrible tennis player in my free time . . . here's a clip as a little reminder:

Man I miss Seinfeld, but I digress. Where was I? Oh yeah, stupid. So this season my fitness has come back around. Insert commercial: Tim O'Shea from Pointway Performance has really helped me to keep my season on the rails despite traveling for work more than I ever have. This season has been a fresh start so to speak. A little time crunched, but lots of structure, and lots of focus. In fact the Tuesday Night Training Series is now known as the Wednesday Night Worlds, so we're both off to a fresh start. We still hold the series on Tuesdays, but we needed to punch up the name. Ok, just kidding they are really on Wednesdays. If I wasn't so stupid I'd have come up with a wittier joke.

Where was I? Oh yeah, fresh start, new found form, thank you Pointway. Queue the first WNW of the season and my legs explode on the second lap. Second WNW and I hang on until the end. Third WNW and I blow up on the first lap. What separate races 1 & 3 from race 2? It wasn't ignorance, that much I know. It must be stupidity.

A smart person who races road as a Cat 4 would sit in with faster racers. That same person wouldn't cover many breaks. That same person wouldn't ride on the front unless it was at the beginning of a hill. That same person wouldn't average WAY more watts getting popped than they would staying in the race. What kind of Cat 4 racer covers breaks, sits on the front, and generally wastes watts? "This guy," that's who. Who has two thumbs and loves getting dropped? This guy!

A wiser man than I once said, the race is seldom won by the strongest racer, it's often won by the racer who puts out the fewest watts . . . until they need them, and then the watts are still there. So the bad news is that I'm an idiot and I may be destined to repeat myself week in and week out. It certainly beats being doomed to repeatedly push a giant boulder up a hill, Sisyphus style, but not by much. I have clearly angered the Road Cycling Gods with all of my smack talk and boasting of the greatness that is Cyclocross. I get it, I'm likely doomed to repeat myself. Occasionally I'll race intelligently for a week, but just like Charlie Brown falling for the Lucy with the football con, I'm doomed to end up on my back. I believe Aaugh was Charlie Brown's typical response. I have no idea what Sisyphus said as the boulder rolled back down the mountain, but it's probably closer in sentiment to what I say as I get popped.

Anyway, to quote another genius, "Stupid is a stupid does." The good news is that 'Cross is in the air and that's my kind of stupid. That said, if you see me in a road race, feel free to remind me not to be so stupid. Apparently I could use a constant reminder because knowing what to do, and actually doing it are two very different things with two very different outcomes.

I now know that I could never stand up to torture

If you're "Friend's" with me on Bookface, you know that I've been traveling a lot. A lot. Most of my travel is in the car, and most of that travel is in New England (where I am now as a matter of fact). After many weeks of travel, racing season was upon me. The first Albany races were on tap, and I felt somewhat obliged to head out on week 1. I returned from a week on the road on a Friday, packed my bike stuff, and woke up to snow. I left the house under something of a self imposed protest. See the video above, that's what it looked like when I hit the road.

As I headed east, the weather mellowed, and by mellowed I mean it stopped snowing. The temperatures were still less than ideal. Watching the Pro's in Europe battle the elements makes for entertaining reading and viewing. Being a Cat 4 with a day job . . . not so entertaining.

When I arrived I was less than pumped to race. Somehow my mind had blocked out the my previous Albany races and the furious pace at which they start. Either I blocked it out, or I'm an idiot. Probably the latter. Definitely the latter. Anyway, I skipped my warmup because the only place it was truly warm was in my car. 29-32 degrees for a 'cross race? You bet. For a road race? Wait what, I don't even like road racing.

Anyway, to lengthen the list of stupid things I did that day, I also wore a new pair of winter tights that I'd never worn before. Of all of the dumb things I did that day, this was the dumbest. Really dumb. Eating a Big Mac two minutes before the race would have been far less dumb. Poking Mike Tyson in the eye would have been less dumb. Poking Mike Tyson's wife while he was pulling into the driveway would have been less dumb.

So, the race starts and I immediately remember how hard these races are. I'm instantly aware of what a bad idea it was to skip a warm-up. Seven minutes in and the race goes hard, a dude crashes equally hard behind me, and 45 seconds later I'm off of the back. So much for a long winter on the trainer.

All isn't lost, I've been dropped before. I know what my future looks like. I'm doomed to ride with 8-10 other "dropped" riders for the rest of the race. No problem. Heck I'm an expert at that. I'll just try to ignore the guy screaming at everyone to pull. Ignore the fact that he keeps yelling which side we should rotate to. I'll ignore the jerk that dangles toward the back refusing to take a pull. I'll ignore the fact that this ain't 'cross! What is it that I can't ignore? Excellent question. If you're still reading, I'm glad you asked.

I like to think of myself as being pretty tough. I'm a little dude. Well, not little, but if I was standing next to Kate Moss, she wouldn't look unusually skinny. I spent my formative years lifting weights, consuming high calorie body building shakes, eating potato chips, bacon, and six packs of tacos from Taco Bell. I'm simply destined to be a scrawny dude. I don't exactly have a Napoleon complex, but I do tend of overcompensate, and being tougher than average and metabolizing pain is a point of pride.

When I watch a movie and some dude is being tortured, I like to think "I could take that." Well, that all changed for me in Albany. It's official, I can't hack it. Achilles had his Achilles, and I have mine. As it turns out, mine is . . . well, not my Achilles. How do I say this? It was my . . . tip of my junk? Weiner? Frank and beans? Hot dog? Johnson? I'm running out of euphemisms so I'll be blunt. Just after I completed the second lap, I started to notice that the cold in conjunction with my new tights had created what NASA described to Houston as "A Problem." The problem was that it felt as if someone was rubbing sandpaper on the tip of my . . . well I think I covered that already. Anyway, I tried to do some emergency rearranging. I started wondering if I had something in my jacket I could stuff down there to create a barrier. I started to wonder how long it would take to drive home if I turned around now. My first self induced DNF ever. It was then that I understood that I would never be able to keep our nations secrets to myself if I was tortured in that way. Waterboarding? Sounds like a ride at Disney! Cold weather, new kit and repeated scratching? I'll tell you everything I know. Heck if you need to see your target I'll drive. Pay for the gas? You bet.

Anyway, that's all I have to say about that. I've found my Achilles "insert euphemism here."

Cyclocross, the Greatest Commute Ever

Bike commuters tend to use the phrase "You're not stuck in traffic, you are traffic. Ride a bike." Unfortunately for bicycle commuters, this post isn't going to be about commuting by bike. This is a blog about 'cross after all. It's no secret that I don't particularly enjoy road racing. I do it, but I do it for 'cross, or to be more specific to stay in shape for 'cross.

I've tried to enjoy road racing, but for the most part I can't do it. When it comes to 'cross I've always assumed that I preferred it for the obvious reasons. Some of the more obvious being the technique required, the camaraderie, the fact that I'm half decent at it, the "race within the race," and of course the mud the blood and the beer. Those are all indeed reasons that I love 'cross, but they still don't entirely explain why I love 'cross so much more than road racing.

I'm a first born. I would probably categorize myself as fairly Type A. I don't like being stuck behind people. In addition to inheriting my fathers rather sizable nose, I almost certainly inherited these traits from him. Well, I definitely inherited the nose, perhaps I learned the rest. In any event, I don't have time to explore the theories of nature vs. nurture, but this much I do know, my childhood was spent trying to "keep up"as my father weaved through people at the mall or darted through crowds looking for the quickest path when exiting a sporting event. As an adult I find myself looking for those same sweet lines.

I spend a fair amount of time in my car. Beyond the obvious commute to work, I spend time working around Boston, Long Island, and more glamorous places such as Buffalo and Albany. Given the time I spend in a car, I'm also no stranger to being stuck in traffic. 1st gear, 2nd gear, back to 1st gear, sweet I'm in 3rd gear, "come on man!" I'm back in 1st gear. There are also times I'm on the thruway and a driver feels compelled to hang out in the fast lane blocking traffic because  "I'm already going 68mph, and the speed limit is 65. It's my civic duty to slow everyone else down . . . and I need to check my makeup and text, so they can just wait." At some point one of two things happens. I get to my destination with angry looking creases on my forehead, or the road finally opens up and I ease into my comfort zone.

What I finally realized the other day is that for me, road racing is like a bad commute. My metaphorical VW TDI of an engine doesn't have the horsepower to break away, and I'm stuck with the rest of the commuters. "Slowing." "Yellow Line!!" "Bottle!" "Close that gap!" For me, road racing is the worst of both worlds. It's like being stuck in traffic during a commute, AND the drivers can actually communicate to each other verbally. At least in a car drivers are limited to using sign language from within the safety of a vehicle so you seldom have to actually listen to the other Cat 4 drivers yelling at you.

In a 'cross race there may be some argybargy in the first couple of laps, you might get taken to the tape, or you might even get yelled at, but at some point . . . at some sweet point, it becomes the best commute ever. The course opens in front of you and by and large you can travel as fast as your potential will carry you. Will people get in your way? Sure. Will you need to figure out how to pass people? Sure, but you'll almost never be stuck in traffic. The weekdays may leave you stuck in traffic but during 'cross season it's full gas. The perfect commute.

Will I stop road racing? Unlikely, it's still the best way for me to stay sharp for 'cross. Will I buy a Kawasaki Ninja for my commute? Highly unlikely, I survived doing that through my 20's and 30's and I'm not too keen on getting killed on my way to work or walking with a limp in perpetuity. I also don't need a ticket for going 168 mph. I know this for certain though, I will continue to love 'cross racing, the greatest commute ever.

When Sponsorship Leads to Entitlement

This post is going to be part rant and a little bit preachy. Maybe a lot preachy. I apologize in advance but these thoughts have been bouncing around in my head and an e-mail exchange with Drummroll today solidified them in my mind.

I've been very lucky to have some great team sponsors over the last six years. Six years ago Drummroll picked up the pieces of a team that had reached the brink of extinction. There were no sponsors and barely any racers. We were the Bad News Bears of cycling. His hard work, and more importantly our team's ability to provide actual value to the sponsors that he was able to secure, paved the way for the two great teams that I work with today.

Why do businesses sponsor amateur racers? I have news for you, it isn't for your results. They DO NOT care that you won the Cat 4 Binghamton Circuit race. They may be happy for you as an individual, but your victory will not sell a single piece of merchandise, widgets, hardware, software or other goods bought sold processed. They do not care that you dominated the local Wednesday Night Worlds, club ride, group ride, Strava segment, or time trial. They don't care if you are racing locally or in a land far far away. They don't care that you have the strongest group of regional Cat 3 racers, and they don't even care if you suck at racing for that matter. This isn't your day job, it's a hobby and a weird one at that.

It amazes me when a Cat 3/4 road racer thinks that they should get free equipment because they "race a lot." Until recently Jonathan Page was racing on frames with tape over the logos. If he doesn't have a bike sponsor, you don't get one either!

I'm currently racing for what would appear to be a fairly elite team. Are we elite? I guess it depends on your perspective. If you were to peruse the race results, I think you'd be hard pressed to convince anyone that we are particularly elite. My results certainly aren't "elite." Unless there's an elite category of mediocrity anyway. However, if you were to look at what we give back to our sponsors, I think an argument could be made that we are in fact bordering on elite.

I love to race my bike. Racing my bike is expensive. Buying clothing, bikes, and equipment is expensive. Race entries are expensive. Do I have the money to pay for these things? Yes. Do I want to part with all of that money? Not really. Would Mrs. Skinny be happy to see more money flying out the window? Definitely not. We have three mouths to feed, and although they are all dogs, they're still mouths. How can I offset at least some of these expenses? Sponsorship. How does one get a sponsor? You could race REALLY fast, but that's impractical for most of us. If you're a jerk, also take into account that you will need to race REALLY REALLY fast. So what is one to do if they have middling genetics but still want to find support for their hobby? Pay it back . . . or even better, pay it forward. Pay it forward meaning do good work and sponsors will ultimately find you.

I've told you what sponsors don't care about. Here's what I think they do care about. Note: some of these may seem obvious, but after witnessing all manner of bad behavior, I figure they are worth mentioning. Heck, there is a reason signs need to be posted in restaurant bathrooms telling employees to wash their hands.

Be friendly on group rides. Don't get into a fight at a race or on the road. Wave to other cyclists. If you can, even wave to triathletes. I know that's a hard one, but maybe they'll even wave back and in the process of removing an arm from their aero bars develop a little speed wobble, and that's always entertaining. Attend charity rides and be "normal." Normal meaning don't drop the hammer on the first climb. Be friendly and talk to the non-racers. If your sponsor gives you clothing, hats, etc. wear them out of the house. I realize that might mean that you need to be nice to people in the grocery store, but there's a price to pay for sponsorship! Volunteer at their events or at least attend them. Hold your own events. A clinic, race series, or bike rodeo perhaps. Be a customer of their products! Again, this sounds obvious, but if the kid at Taco Bell needs to be reminded to wash his hands after touching a toilet handle that has been touched by 1,000 other dudes who all touched their junk before flushing . . . well you get my point.

Special section:
If you are fortunate enough to be sponsored by a bike shop . . .

I recently spent some time with the owner of an out of town bike shop and he shared some thoughts regarding his sponsored racers. Your discount is a privilege. If the kid that rung up your $20 of gel packs forgets to give you your discount, let it go. Definitely don't ask the owner to give you a $2 credit at a later date! If your shop gives you discounted or accelerated service, don't abuse it. Give them plenty of lead time whenever possible. At the end of the day they are in business to service paying customers. Fixing your bike at a discounted rate one day before your event while you wait for it is pretty much two slaps in the face. Be a customer! Don't buy a bike off of the internet and then ask your shop to make tuning it up a priority. Also, just because you can save $5 on a pair of pedals on the internet, doesn't mean you should. Stand by your shop. You'll win some, you'll lose some, but you'll win more than you lose. Be a good partner.

I think that's pretty much the point of my ramblings. Be a good partner. If you're a good partner, you'll deserve some level of sponsorship and you'll get some level of sponsorship. Once you have it, don't take it for granted.

Structure is good

Forewarning:  This post might be boring, but I'll let you be the judge of that!  How's that for getting you excited to read?

I have had VERY little structure in my training the last couple of seasons.  After upgrading to a 2 in 'cross and then getting my head kicked in trying to race Elites, I may have lost some steam at a sub-conscious level.  Heck, it may have been at a conscious level.  Never underestimate your minds ability to protect you, or to at least try.

I think that a departure from structure was my minds way of making it ok to suck.  I did a lot of long rides, and was generally in decent shape, but my racing form was never quite there.  That was never more evident than during the entire 2012 road season.  Add to that the fact that Mrs. Skinny and I were trying to sell our house and then move and it was pretty much a recipe for disaster.

Late in the summer I remember vividly telling Tim O'Shea that my 'cross season would be fine.  Despite the fact that I'd be moving the first couple of weeks of racing season, I'd get it dialed in and wouldn't skip a beat.  Tim promptly told me I was nuts in only the way Tim can cut to the chase.  Fast forward to the first race of the season, and I was a mess.  Not only was I co-promoting the event, but I was moving the next week and was arguably in the worst shape I'd been in since 2007.

At that point I very seriously contemplated bailing on the whole season.  I love CX, but not when I'm gasping for air and way off the back.  CX will always involve suffering, but much like "naked," there's good suffering and bad suffering.  While riding with Tim we discussed two options.  Option A was to just let it go.  Give up a season and live to fight another year.  Option B was to admit that it was less than ideal, but to dial in the specificity with a laser focus and work on some late season success.  With a new "fixer upper" of a house and 92 acres of land to contend with, this needed to be a group decision and at the end of the day Mrs. Skinny suggested that I go with Option B.  With that said, I seriously considered Option A.

Despite having endorsed and promoted Pointway Performance, I had not been a client.  I'd seen my teammates and buddies get faster, but much like a drunk knows they should quit drinking but doesn't, I simply hadn't been ready to get right.

My first few workouts were terrible.  There's an art to suffering through a workout.  There's also an art to not blowing up after 7 minutes of a 20 minute interval.  My next bunch of races were terrible as well.  The only thing I had going for me was faith in a plan.  Suffering while training and getting your ass kicked in races isn't really suffering when it's a means to an end.  The end in this case was CX Nationals.

Fast forward, and the structure was starting to take hold.  Was it perfect?  No.  Were there distractions and set backs.  Yes.  Was I at 100% of my potential?  Not a chance, but we knew that going in.  During the late season local races, the form started coming together along with a decent result or two.  After that it was off to New Belgium to fill in the gap before Nats.  After getting my head kicked a few more times, it was time to work through the new year and head to Nats.  Long story longer, I started in the second to last row and finished 37th.  The USAC race predictor had me pegged for 61st place.  Only 60 people started, so I had a leg up on 61st from the get go.  Ironically crossresults.com had me predicted at 37th.  I'd like to think that had I lined up at 37th I'd have moved up a few spots, but no complaints, I'm very happy with the result.

What's the point of this blog?  I have no idea.  If I had to have a point, I guess it would be this:

1. Don't be afraid of structure.  It's really the only way to race well.
2. If you need structure, get a hold of Tim at Pointway Performance.  Having been on the receiving end of his coaching, I have a much greater appreciation for how he can help you to maximize your potential (even when life limits your potential . . . or especially when life limits your potential!)

If you made it this far, thanks for reading!

MCMp

Over the past year or so I've noticed a bit of a change.  Nothing earth shattering but more of a subtle creep that seemed to materialize in intensity for a few weeks and then kind of ebb or subside.   If I may, I enter the following into evidence: 

(1)  I have actually looked up and considered attending an alleycat;
(2)  I am starting to get the "Old Fat Cyclist" jersey;
(3)  I have looked into and considered doing a brevet,
(4)  I have spent way too much time looking and reading about steel frame building and the guys (or gals) who handcraft these. (I could also tell you about several options available for frame building classes.)
(5)  I see the commercial for the guys with "low T" and I think hmmm.....

After somewhat suppressing and ignoring the signs for months, formal recognition of my condition (or awakening) has recently occurred.  The trigger for my awakening was a chance visit I made to Cranx indoor bike park a few weeks ago.  I have now visited and rode there several times since and am now spending way too much time browsing BMX related web sites as I contemplate how to explain why I need yet another bike.   My brain is filled with 20", 24" 26" dirt jumper, cruiser, old school, new school, CrMo, Hi-ten, racing, Haro, Sunday Mirraco, 3 piece, double walled and so on. 

How did this happen or what the hell just happened? ... less than 10 yrs ago I was doing IronMan tris, then some CX, then some road racing and some MTBing .. and now .. it's sorta scary but I believe this evolution (or devolution perhaps) may be some sort or cycling mid-life crisis .... or as I am calling it, "male cycling menopause" or MCMp. I am still unsure if MCMp is treatable as this is all new to me.  Perhaps there are others of you out there with eyes wide open and nodding your heads right now .... if yes, I am here for you.   I will be facilitating a group session for MCMp in the near future (probably at Cranx) as soon as I'm done checking out Danscomp.com and every other forum thread discussing the best bmx bike for a noob I can get my eyes on.

Are we tough enough?

First let me start by saying that this is one heck of a last lap.  If you haven't seen it, it's worth a watch.  Second, while watching the video I was struck by how rough the course is.  For those looking for an introspective post, this is going to be more of a rant.  Feel free to just watch the video and bail out. 

I don't consider myself to be particularly tough.  At 135lbs, tough is kind of . . . well, tough to pull of.  With that said, I do love adversity.  Rain, snow, mud, or in the case of last weekend locally, sleet and a combination of the previous three.  I deeply love them all, at least while racing.

I try to keep things in perspective, because I know I'm one of the weird ones.  I live for 'cross.  I tolerate road and MTB racing as a means to an end.  With that said, I think it's time for everyone to toughen up.  It's 'cross.  It's supposed to be messy.  There is supposed to be difficult terrain.  There is supposed to be RUNNING.  There should always be challenges that get you out of your comfort zone.  If you only show up when the course suits you or the weather is conventionally cheery, you're stuck in your comfort zone.  Most of us are a bunch of middle aged hacks.  If we were really decent we'd have grown a long beard and carpooled with Dan Timmerman to the motherland.  That said, it doesn't mean that we collectively need to turn our courses into gentle swoopy speedways or only race when it's sunny.

I'm not exactly Mr. New England, but I've raced there enough to know that:

1. One of their sweetest and oldest courses (NoHo) includes a launch over a set of train tracks that would send many a CNY'er into a hissy fit.

2. They'll hold a race at night on a ski hill with mind boggling mud and twisty sections of the course that would barely be visible with night vision goggles, let alone in the wet muddy dark of night.  The attendance of that race by the way will blow the mind of anyone from Buffalo to Albany.  It's sick and awesome all at once.

3. On the first lap they would drive their mother into the tape to move up a spot or two.  There is no starting easy and settling in.  Prepare to be bumped and it will be awesome. 

4. Their course layouts will include off cambers that might blow your mind.  Steep off cambers of frozen grass and hard mud are not uncommon.  No one complains, they just shut up and race.

It goes without saying that the further one travels from the Motherland, the more diluted a product will get.  I would argue that Albany is diluted from New Belgium, and Syracuse is diluted from Albany.

It's time to raise our game.  Oh, the course is bumpy?  They are literally racing in corn fields in parts of Belgium.  Oh, there's too much running?  Suck it up, 'cross includes running.  Sometimes lot's of it depending on the conditions.  Too sandy?  Your mom called, you used to love that shit when you were a kid.  You can wash it out of your crack when you get home.  Oh, someone bumped into you?  Bump 'em back on the next set of turns.  Let your legs, and occasionally a well positioned forearm do the talking.  It's cold out?  When you were a kid your mom probably kicked your sorry ass outside and told you not to come home until dinner.  If you were lucky you had a Members Only wind breaker.  If you were lucky!  Suck it up soft boy you can warm up on the drive home.

So in summation . . .

Racers:  Quit TELLING each other to HTFU and ACTUALLY do it.
Promoters:  Don't dilute your courses because some wuss who knows next to nothing about 'cross complained that your course was too bumpy, hilly, runny, muddy, turny, etc. 

Maybe a field trip to New Belgium is in order.  Ice Weasels perhaps?

Lance Armstrong . . . my 2 cents

Much has been written about Lance Armstrong and doping recently.  I don't know that I'm uniquely positioned to provide any insights or perspectives, but apparently I'm going to try.

Just so everyone is clear on my position, or religion as it where, I'm certain that Lance doped.  I was reasonably sure of it when I watched him during his heyday, and it seems as obvious as the earth being round today.  If you still believe that the world is flat, or that Lance didn't dope, you might want to stop reading.

Jonathan Vaughters wrote an interesting opinion piece in a recent New York Times.  He essentially concluded by saying that most convicted dopers said that they doped because they were simply looking to level the playing field.  Others were doping, so they simply needed to do the same in order to have a fair chance at winning or keeping up.  JV's point was that we've done a lot to clean up the sport of cycling and create a "cleaner" environment for the next generation, and it's important that the trend continue.  If everyone simply wants a fair chance, let's continue to support and grow that infrastructure.

My day job consists of working with retail businesses and point of sale technology.  It has very little to do with cycling, but it has a lot to do with human nature.  It is understood in my industry that there are three types of employees.  10 percent of your employees wouldn't steal from you if your money was in a cigar box and no one was watching the inventory.  10 percent of your employees will attempt to steal from you regardless of what you have in place to prevent theft.  Point of sale, cameras, and policies and procedures won't prevent the "bad apples" from stealing or at least trying.  The other 80 percent of your employees are somewhere else on the spectrum.  With the right systems, and policies and procedures in place, there will be little temptation to steal.

It would seem that professional cycling did little to account for the 80% and essentially forced out the 10% that refused to cheat.  Professional bike racing is a business, pure and simple.  Sponsors want wins, Directors want to keep their jobs, Phil Ligget knows that he'll make more money if cycling is popular with "hero's" like Lance, and a working class kid from Europe knows that doping may be a better choice than working in a factory or on the family farm.  It would also appear that the UCI itself may have succumbed to greed, burying, or being paid to bury a positive test by Lance.  It would seem that the entire business of cycling, from top to bottom essentially turned a blind eye as Lance made cycling wildly popular.

Many people seem to be arguing that doping was rampant when Lance was winning Tour's, so what's the harm?  I can accept the argument that the past is the past to some extent, but in the case of Lance, I cannot.  Was everyone in the top 10 doping back then?  Probably.  My problem with Lance is that it appears that he even doped during his comeback.  We won't see the evidence until USADA's case becomes more public, but it appears likely that he was back to cheating.  That alone makes it worth an investigation.  More importantly, and a consideration that seems to be missing in most peoples opinion's, is that Lance was still actively competing in Triathlon and doing so to win.  He wasn't competing to stay fit as an age grouper, he was competing for a significant donation to his foundation, fame, and as I just said, to win.  Frankly I don't know much about Triathlon, but I would like to think that the current crop of competitive triathletes are competing "clean."  One would assume that they aren't looking for a questionable character to re-join their sport, and impact their livelihood.  Lance re-joining their sport could increase public awareness, TV viewership, sponsorship dollars, prize money . . . oh wait, sound familiar?  He holds the potential to grow triathlon in much the same way that he grew cycling, but at what potential cost to the sport?  I view Lance as being in the "stealing 10%"  that I referenced earlier.  I don't think he knows how to compete without cheating at this point.  It's in his nature because the world owes him something.  If I was a triathlete, at any level, I wouldn't want him in my sport.  If the past predicts the future, short term gains in popularity, and as a byproduct money, will only be met with a black eye later.

For those that are still with me, the next question becomes about Livestrong.  Lance has unquestionably provided hope and inspiration for those fighting cancer and their families.  He's raised a lot of money and arguably done a lot of good.  I personally donated money and wore a yellow wristband in his heyday.  I'm now left wondering if his work with Livestrong is made less relevant.  In my opinion, Lance is a false god.  He's the Wizard of Oz.  He's an "empty suit" as it were.  If someone is a great business leader, but beats their wife, should they still be a respected CEO?  If someone is a great quarterback, but runs a dog fighting ring on the weekends, should they still be in the NFL?  My opinion is an emphatic no.  I know that it can be a grey area for many, but I just can't see how you separate the two when it's on such a significant scale.

Culturally, America loves an underdog.  America loves to see the mighty fall, and it loves to see those same people pick themselves up by the bootstraps and become great again.  If Lance really wants to see his legacy, and more importantly Livestrong flourish, it would be nice to see his human side.  Admit wrong doing, beg for forgiveness, and become human, instead of a false god.

Will he do it?  I doubt it.  Maybe Mathew McConaughey or Ashley Olsen can provide him with some insights.  I guess wanting to hang out with movie stars and make out with Ashley Olsen makes him human, but not in a good way.  Frankly I don't see him checking his ego and making it happen, but for the greater good of the fight against cancer, I hope he's sees the light.  Cycling will make it with or without him, but the fight against cancer could still use his help.  My 2 cents?  That will only be possible if he comes clean and creates a new legacy.

A Beery Good Long Weekend

So last Weds the bosses "suggested" I "consider" using up some vacation time as the work load is rather light at the moment.  Message received loud and clear. 
That evening I did some quick internet scouting and packed the car.  The next morning, armed with a travel mug full of coffee, I bid farewell to the HumperDog and Ms. Drumroll and headed to Lake Placid.  Fast forward 3+ hours and I was able to check in my room extra early where I quickly changed & headed out for a loop of the IronMan USA course.   It still is a subtly challenging yet beautiful course.  A shower, quick check of email, etc and I headed on over to the Lake Placid Pub & Brewery.  A good pub dinner with several pints of Ubu and life was good. 
Took my time the next morning to get going but rolled into Chambly, Quebec about mid-day.  I lucked out again and was able to check-in early & quickly headed out on the bike.  I chose a route along a canal and river that is part of the incredible "Green Route" of Quebec.  For those unfamiliar, you owe it to yourself to check this "Green Route" thing out .. lots of signs, dedicated bike lanes, info at tourist/info centers, maps, etc.  So after the ride, the same shower, check email drill and I headed across the street to the waterfront.  I checked out an old historic fort (Fort Chambly) on the water and then headed next door for dinner.  Oh, btw ....Chambly also is the home of Unibroue, an awesome Belgian style brewer (try some if you haven't .. La Fin du Monde is a fav).  Unfortunately they do not offer tours or samples at the brewery but by some well performed internet investigation, this restaurant I was headed in offers samples of Uniboue and has a small Unibroue gift shop.  A great dinner (venison washed down with Unibroue's Trois Pistoles) and a trip to the gift shop and again, life was good. 
Saturday morning I headed due east to Bromont, QC.  Bromont is the home of the Bromont International Velodrome which happens to be the velodrome used in the '96 Atlanta Olympics.  I had signed up for the intro class/clinic and was a little intimidated at my glaring lack of the "parlez-vous Francais" thing, riding a fixed gear with no brakes as well as the 42 degree banking.  After several drills and some guidance, we were flying around the track.  We even got to try a flying 200m TT -- I was only a half second slower than that British gal who won a gold medal in London (oh yeah, and she was timed over 250 m .. but we did have beginner/warmup gearing though).
A long ride home Saturday eve and then Sunday was Syracuse Bicycle's Point 2 Pint Ride from the Empire Brewing Co in downtown 'cuse.  I opted for the 50 miler which covered a fair amount of familiar roads around Jamesville, Caz and Chittenango.  The ride was fun, the after party at Empire was absolutely awesome.  They put out an amazing spread with plenty of beverages to quench anyone's thirst.  Huge props to Syracuse Bicycle and Empire Brewing. 
So that's the end of the Beery Good Long Weekend -- 'cross anyone?

Critz 'Cross - Presented by Chobani

This is gonna be good . . . 'Cross, Chobani, Hard Cider.  Family Friendly, Heckler Friendly and a great way to kick off your 'Cross season.


https://www.bikereg.com/Net/17022

I wish I had more to say . . . .

I wish I had something exciting to say about the Black Fly this year.  It was a great race, but the course was dry and fast and my race was lackluster as best.  I wish I could say that it was a great effort.  Heck I wish I could say something bad even happened to me during the race, but all I can say was that I had a mediocre race.

I wish I could say something exciting about the Wilmington Whiteface 100.  I could say that it was actually 69 miles instead of 62, but that really had no impact on my results. I wish I could say that some dude didn't blow past me and crash on the only sketchy section of the course.  I wish I could say that I didn't flip over my bars and do two somersaults.  I wish I could say that I was smart enough to take a look at my bike after the crash.  I wish I could say that I didn't ride uphill for 4 miles listening to my rear rotor rub.  I wish I could say that when I finally pulled over to fix it that I didn't pick up a few miles per hour instantly.  I wish I could say that when I stopped at the second water stop that I didn't dump a cup of water into a mostly full bottle instead of the empty one.  I wish I could say that after that I didn't panic and ride off without refilling my bottles.  I wish I could say that after thinking about it for the next two miles that I decided to turn around and get more water.  I really wish I had turned around . . .

I wish I could say that after I was completely out of water that I didn't seriously lose my mind and very seriously consider peeing into one of my empty water bottles for fluid.  I wish I could say that I hadn't seen Bear Grylls kill and skin a snake and then pee in the skin to store his own urine for a drink later.  A poor mans Camelback I guess.  I'm thankful I didn't have a snake full of urine . . . I might have put it to use. I was really glad to see the volunteers at the third water stop.  Really glad.  Water, Gatorade, banana, and fig newtons.  I almost got off the bike to hug the volunteers.  Almost.  Not having to further contemplate drinking your own urine can turn one into a dirty, hug giving hippy.

I really wish I hadn't tried to convert to tubeless before the Wilmington 100.  I really really wish I hadn't watched Stanley Kowalski use a 3/8" drill bit to "easily" open up the inner valve hole of a rim.  I wish when I tried to mimic Stanley's move that I hadn't ripped through my entire rim in less than a second.  That's once second of my life that I wish I had back.  I'm certain I've done worse in a second, and I'm really certain I've said worse in a second, but there's definitely a certain queasiness one experiences when they destroy an expensive piece of equipment they'll need in two days for a big race.  I'm really glad that Brian K. from Syracuse Bicycle sold me some sweet replacement wheels.

I was super glad to see my wife before the hike-a-bike up Whiteface since she had two bottle of Secret Drink Mix.  I was also glad that I didn't have my homemade drink mix . . . you know the one that induces vomiting.

I was really glad to get to the Lake Placid Brewery for a few pints and my annual dose of chicken tenders with a side of hot sauce and blue cheese.

Meh, as I read this, maybe things were more exciting than I thought.  Not "hey I drank my own pee exciting, but almost."

Black Fly 2012: Brief Recap

So for the diligent readers of this blog that may recall the "A-cup irritation problem" I experienced as part of the 2011 Blk Fly race, I am happy to report that I am home, showered, and there is no apparent missing or irritated skin on the nippleage front after completing the 2012 Blk Fly.  This is a good thing.