Made it to Denver onboard Continental Airlines, and what a bad experience that was. The lady at the counter made me pay $100 for my bike, even though the bike bag was 27 pounds under the weight limit, but 4 inches over the size. $100 for 4 inches!!!!.
This is my third time at the Bicycle Tour of Colorado and the organizers have done another superb job with every detail. Picking up the registration package was a breeze, the support is second to none, and the route so far, stunning. We (my dad, three friends and myself) climbed up to 8700+ feet, over McClure pass and covered the 79 miles in under 5 hours (we were taking it easy since it's only the first day of six). Tomorrow is 91 miles and a climb just under 11,000 feet. Weather is good and there are a ton of people riding. Feeling good and having fun, lets hope that trend continues.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Inflation and Deflation
Just a quick note on my "pit stop" repair equipment. A very, very long time ago, I used to carry a Blackburn hand pump to inflate my tires after a flat, but as technology evolved and CO2 became available, I switched and never looked back. Usually stuffed in a handy zip-locked baggy, is a spare tube, one cartridge of CO2 with its adaptor, and two tire levers. Brand is not really important, as with all things cycling, if it's on sale, it's good enough for me.
Changing gears now, I'm beginning a 12 day rest (cycling deflation) period as of right now. I shouldn't be even typing this post since it's all about resting and having nothing to do with the bike, but then again I still have 11 hours ahead of me at work before I can really declare my vacation, which will be spent in of all places, Houston, Texas. Some pool time, good bbq and time with my daughters will be on my schedule.
Upon returning from Houston, five days of riding before Murad and the expectations now that the race date was changed went out the window. The form was great but now the race priority has declined a bit. Following Murad will be a trip to Colorado for the Bicycle Tour of Colorado, a good week of hard riding in the mountains should set me up perfectly for the assault to the Vuelta a Chiriqui-Masters, in mid July.
Changing gears now, I'm beginning a 12 day rest (cycling deflation) period as of right now. I shouldn't be even typing this post since it's all about resting and having nothing to do with the bike, but then again I still have 11 hours ahead of me at work before I can really declare my vacation, which will be spent in of all places, Houston, Texas. Some pool time, good bbq and time with my daughters will be on my schedule.
Upon returning from Houston, five days of riding before Murad and the expectations now that the race date was changed went out the window. The form was great but now the race priority has declined a bit. Following Murad will be a trip to Colorado for the Bicycle Tour of Colorado, a good week of hard riding in the mountains should set me up perfectly for the assault to the Vuelta a Chiriqui-Masters, in mid July.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
War of attrition.
I never looked forward to racing in a field of 100+ riders, and to be honest, I was really hoping that for once the weather forecast was right and the rain would come in buckets, thus giving me a good reason to stay home and not race Bike Jam. It didn't happen.
At 9AM Jose Nunez checks in and gives me an earful for being in bed. Then Dan Dumwright texts to see if I'm going, after all, he wad riding with me. No other choice was left other than to get up and get my arse into gear. Dan met me at the house and off we went.
Upon arriving, we got our packs at the registration tent, checked the surroundings and talked to a few friends, then watched the 2/3. After their effort, a couple of our teammates came by and gave us some words of advice, the usual stuff, "stay at the front", "watch the S turn, go on the grass if possible", this and that. A good warmup followed and then we saw the last few laps of the pros.
The race itself was a war of attrition, and it pretty much turned out to be like the race last year. Fast at the beginning and middle parts, thinning the group considerably. But the advice given earlier wasn't working for me. It's one thing when you are the one inside the barriers doing the navigating. Nonetheless, I felt pretty comfortable and the guys from the team were mixing it at the front, while I was trying to conserve some energy. That was until the dude from HPC, who had gone off road earlier, aimed at my front wheel. Close call, an exchange of selected words and he was out of my way. Positioning continues to be a work in project, but I was happy with 16th, which gives me a good vibe for Murad and then my goal in July.
The funny moment of the day was when Dan attacked, went off the front and the announcer calls my name. I'm at the back thinking, "Dan and I got our numbers switched back at the car."
At 9AM Jose Nunez checks in and gives me an earful for being in bed. Then Dan Dumwright texts to see if I'm going, after all, he wad riding with me. No other choice was left other than to get up and get my arse into gear. Dan met me at the house and off we went.
Upon arriving, we got our packs at the registration tent, checked the surroundings and talked to a few friends, then watched the 2/3. After their effort, a couple of our teammates came by and gave us some words of advice, the usual stuff, "stay at the front", "watch the S turn, go on the grass if possible", this and that. A good warmup followed and then we saw the last few laps of the pros.
The race itself was a war of attrition, and it pretty much turned out to be like the race last year. Fast at the beginning and middle parts, thinning the group considerably. But the advice given earlier wasn't working for me. It's one thing when you are the one inside the barriers doing the navigating. Nonetheless, I felt pretty comfortable and the guys from the team were mixing it at the front, while I was trying to conserve some energy. That was until the dude from HPC, who had gone off road earlier, aimed at my front wheel. Close call, an exchange of selected words and he was out of my way. Positioning continues to be a work in project, but I was happy with 16th, which gives me a good vibe for Murad and then my goal in July.
The funny moment of the day was when Dan attacked, went off the front and the announcer calls my name. I'm at the back thinking, "Dan and I got our numbers switched back at the car."
Friday, May 15, 2009
It's on!!
Second time I'll get to race on my native land, and this time it will get ugly.
My dad had told me about the Vuelta and it happens to coincide with my trip to Panama to visit them. The next few weeks will be tailored to get the body in the best possible shape. The mind is already racing though!!.
My dad had told me about the Vuelta and it happens to coincide with my trip to Panama to visit them. The next few weeks will be tailored to get the body in the best possible shape. The mind is already racing though!!.
Monday, April 27, 2009
The Dark Place
Michael Jordan once said he used to go into a "zone" when he was on top of his game. The opposite side of the "zone" is the "pain locker", not exactly a happy place. But over this past weekend, while at the Raw Talent Ranch, I discovered the "dark place", where ghosts take over your mind and your body is just going through the motions.
The team had the annual training camp and about 18 of us made the trip over to West Virginia. Upon arrival on Friday, Jay Moglia had us out on the road, doing a 40miler, leg opener, but towards the last climb, it became a leg breaker, with a good portion of the boys choosing to dismount and push their rigs (myself included).
Saturday's "death march" will stay with me for a long time. I have gone into the pain locker more times that I can remember, and usually come out of it not too damaged, but Saturday I dove straight into the "dark place" and at one point I thought things were just getting out of control. After two climbs, I was feeling OK and thought tackling the last 7 mile ascend back to the Ranch was a possibility, but a mix of a banana and coke put end to any thoughts of finishing and opened the door to the place I will hope, never to visit again.
Combine with the heat, the hills, a stomach that wasn't functioning at all, things quickly went pearshape and I lost contact with my group. I think it was 3 miles into the climb when my mind switched. No longer was the techno music playing on my Ipod doing its usual trick, my legs were not going to turn anymore, so I unclipped, walked a bit and remounted. Another 100 yards farther up the mountain, I put my foot down again, this time sitting on the side of the road. My group had decided that the first one back at the ranch would drive back down to look for "victims", so the thought of just waiting kept me sitting for a little longer. The view was great from my position, but something kept telling me to push, not my legs, they were by now cursing me in both english and spanish. I swung the leg over the top tube once again, felt a cramp, but headed up anyway, and next thing I know I was laughing, for no apparent reason, my situation was no joke, however I was laughing. The following switchback brought me to a complete stop and I got off the bike once and for all. A nice shadowy spot was my last resting place on that infamous climb. After a wait of about 20 minutes, the car showed up, I loaded the bike and was taken back to the barn.
A meal later, I was feeling half human again, and I believe going to the pain locker will be no big deal from now on, even eating a slice or two of humble pie I can handle, but the "dark place", there, I don't want to go again. Rest today and tomorrow will see how things feel. It will be either Hains Point or the Eisenhower ride.
The team had the annual training camp and about 18 of us made the trip over to West Virginia. Upon arrival on Friday, Jay Moglia had us out on the road, doing a 40miler, leg opener, but towards the last climb, it became a leg breaker, with a good portion of the boys choosing to dismount and push their rigs (myself included).
Saturday's "death march" will stay with me for a long time. I have gone into the pain locker more times that I can remember, and usually come out of it not too damaged, but Saturday I dove straight into the "dark place" and at one point I thought things were just getting out of control. After two climbs, I was feeling OK and thought tackling the last 7 mile ascend back to the Ranch was a possibility, but a mix of a banana and coke put end to any thoughts of finishing and opened the door to the place I will hope, never to visit again.
Combine with the heat, the hills, a stomach that wasn't functioning at all, things quickly went pearshape and I lost contact with my group. I think it was 3 miles into the climb when my mind switched. No longer was the techno music playing on my Ipod doing its usual trick, my legs were not going to turn anymore, so I unclipped, walked a bit and remounted. Another 100 yards farther up the mountain, I put my foot down again, this time sitting on the side of the road. My group had decided that the first one back at the ranch would drive back down to look for "victims", so the thought of just waiting kept me sitting for a little longer. The view was great from my position, but something kept telling me to push, not my legs, they were by now cursing me in both english and spanish. I swung the leg over the top tube once again, felt a cramp, but headed up anyway, and next thing I know I was laughing, for no apparent reason, my situation was no joke, however I was laughing. The following switchback brought me to a complete stop and I got off the bike once and for all. A nice shadowy spot was my last resting place on that infamous climb. After a wait of about 20 minutes, the car showed up, I loaded the bike and was taken back to the barn.
A meal later, I was feeling half human again, and I believe going to the pain locker will be no big deal from now on, even eating a slice or two of humble pie I can handle, but the "dark place", there, I don't want to go again. Rest today and tomorrow will see how things feel. It will be either Hains Point or the Eisenhower ride.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Solar Powered!
Over the years, I have learned that my body must be solar powered. During the winters months I struggle and suffer, sometimes in silence, sometimes bitching to whoever is riding next or ahead of me, usually Jose or Dani, but once the sun comes out and I shed about 15 lbs. of clothing, things turn for the best.
That was the case on Saturday at Syn-Fit. Like most people who went, the registration process was something to marvel. I think I held the line just because I couldn't believe how quick the process was. Kudos to the organizers. And after a nice warm up with my teammate, we lined up for the cat4 race.
Race is not what I would define the event as, it was more of parade of 22 laps, with the odd interval thrown in there to break a sweat. The boys from Bike Rack reedmed themselves this time and had things lined up which actually looked pretty good. But since I had spent the most part of the race in la-la land, by the time I snapped into action and realized there were two laps to go, I was out of contention.
The pack finish wasn't something I was happy about and there was only one way to fix it. My teammate kept telling me how much he had left in the tank and I thought my tank was pretty much full too, so I spent the time in between races telling myself to at least be active in the Masters 35+ 4/5.
Because of the "issue" with the Masters 50 race before us, we had a late start and my body had gone into shut down mode while standing at the line. Once we were off, the first lap was nothing to be excited about, so I took off through the start/finish and got my heart rate up. Now I was ready.
The race (this was one) was aggressive, and I stayed towards the front, covering breaks and trying to be active. With 8 laps to go, I settled into top 10 and the pace was high enough that I didn't have to fight for position, which was good for everyone. With one to go, I believe it was Whole Wheel Velo singled the file the group and opened a gap, that I tried to close, eventually latching on going into the last corner. I took shelter behind a Colavita rider and tried to come around him at the end, but I was pretty much done. 8th place, just outside the money, what a bastard!.
I left feeling good, I rode the first race like I would have in years past, then change my mind set and went on the offensive on the second one, leaving nothing in the tank, which is one of my goals for the year. The sun was out and the motor was running just fine, a perfect day out.
Take a look at this and you be the judge, was it deliverate?
That was the case on Saturday at Syn-Fit. Like most people who went, the registration process was something to marvel. I think I held the line just because I couldn't believe how quick the process was. Kudos to the organizers. And after a nice warm up with my teammate, we lined up for the cat4 race.
Race is not what I would define the event as, it was more of parade of 22 laps, with the odd interval thrown in there to break a sweat. The boys from Bike Rack reedmed themselves this time and had things lined up which actually looked pretty good. But since I had spent the most part of the race in la-la land, by the time I snapped into action and realized there were two laps to go, I was out of contention.
The pack finish wasn't something I was happy about and there was only one way to fix it. My teammate kept telling me how much he had left in the tank and I thought my tank was pretty much full too, so I spent the time in between races telling myself to at least be active in the Masters 35+ 4/5.
Because of the "issue" with the Masters 50 race before us, we had a late start and my body had gone into shut down mode while standing at the line. Once we were off, the first lap was nothing to be excited about, so I took off through the start/finish and got my heart rate up. Now I was ready.
The race (this was one) was aggressive, and I stayed towards the front, covering breaks and trying to be active. With 8 laps to go, I settled into top 10 and the pace was high enough that I didn't have to fight for position, which was good for everyone. With one to go, I believe it was Whole Wheel Velo singled the file the group and opened a gap, that I tried to close, eventually latching on going into the last corner. I took shelter behind a Colavita rider and tried to come around him at the end, but I was pretty much done. 8th place, just outside the money, what a bastard!.
I left feeling good, I rode the first race like I would have in years past, then change my mind set and went on the offensive on the second one, leaving nothing in the tank, which is one of my goals for the year. The sun was out and the motor was running just fine, a perfect day out.
Take a look at this and you be the judge, was it deliverate?
Monday, April 6, 2009
Reading
That's what I'm doing at the moment, well actually, I'm typing, but I spent the best part of the day reading about Walkersville and Tyson's. And the reason I'm reading is because I'm sitting half way accross the world, on the banks of the Bospherous straight, Istanbul, Turkey to be exact. And why am I here?. Not to cover the upcoming Presidential Tour of Turkey (the bike race), I'm here because of the Alliance of Civilazations meeting and the stop of Pres. Obama in country.
But by the sounds of it, Walkersville would have kicked me on the butt with the wind and Tyson's, I never got on the starting list, so not much was lost. What's quickly going away is whatever form I had. Things were going just fine on that department until the trip over here. All I have done since arriving last Saturday is drink Efes beer, eat at the local kobobs place (if ever here, check out Durumce, fantastic stuff and cheap), check out the sites and well, some work. I did manage to catch the Tour of Flanders live on Eurosport. No Bob Roll here, just hard racing and good commentating. Should be back stateside by Saturday night and the plan is to join the bunch on the 8:30am ride, jetlag and all.
P.S. Matt, I hope you get recover from the crash at Tyson's very soon.
But by the sounds of it, Walkersville would have kicked me on the butt with the wind and Tyson's, I never got on the starting list, so not much was lost. What's quickly going away is whatever form I had. Things were going just fine on that department until the trip over here. All I have done since arriving last Saturday is drink Efes beer, eat at the local kobobs place (if ever here, check out Durumce, fantastic stuff and cheap), check out the sites and well, some work. I did manage to catch the Tour of Flanders live on Eurosport. No Bob Roll here, just hard racing and good commentating. Should be back stateside by Saturday night and the plan is to join the bunch on the 8:30am ride, jetlag and all.
P.S. Matt, I hope you get recover from the crash at Tyson's very soon.
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