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.