Is this what you meant Joe?

Last week was cold enough for Caydel to break out his hat and for me to finally need my sweater. The sweater is race fit after a run through the drier. This week has been lots of fun with the Mukluk. Lots of friends and lots of tire. You can't beat it.

Waffles.

My anticipation is growing, for tomorrow the smell of waffles will accompany the taste of blood as I race at full effort to evade the hangover that tonight's award celebration is sure to bring. The weather looks like it will be nice and my bike is well rested from an unwanted two week break. My legs have no form, though I am well practiced at falling on my head so I should still be able to give some illusion of professionalism.

I used to dislike this time of year because of winter's approach. I've really warmed up to it recently because there aren't any expectations, just riding and fun. I mostly only have time to ride to work these days, but that is usually good enough to keep me happy. The part that does leave me disgruntled is the way that darkness has enveloped my entire commute. I miss seeing the deer, the lakes, and the trees. Some days there is a nice reflection from the moon that makes it a bit like a late night summer boat trip. Though it is usually more common that I stare with neutral affection at a small illuminated circle a car length ahead of me. I guess a good rule of thumb is to accept it with a smile. It could always be colder.

Head banger's ball.

The light is getting harder to find, but Amy has been understanding as I've continued to spend a fair amount of time on my bicycle. The majority of my riding has been non-competitive fall riding. I love the riding in fall. It is bittersweet because of the coming cold, but it is the most fulfilling outdoor time you can spend. I've done a little bit of cross racing. Last weekend I had an encounter with the sand that I never want to duplicate. I crashed hard and there was a moment that I had to wonder if I'd get up again.

Thankfully I did and I have a bit of soreness that has plagued me this entire week. It should be a good reminder this weekend when Green Acres arrives. I will win Green Acres. If I keep saying this will it come true? Likely not, but if there is a race I would will myself to win it is this one. Orange crush will be my diet for the rest of the week. I will crush you.

The weird thing is that sometimes you get to hang out with people that you like.

10 in 11.

Today I'll try to post a recap of things that have happened.

Probably the thing that I'm the most proud of so far is my unexplainable over achievement at Chequamegon. I somehow managed 34th. Don't be fooled, I am still a sub-par cyclist. Sometimes things just work out and you end up doing well.

Cyclocross has also been rolling along in full stride. So far the Tuesday night races have been tough. I race in the 123 race so competition is tough. The Sunday races I've done have been sparsely attended. Luckily though the two that I've done I've felt pretty good and ended a decent second.

Tonight there is a wind whipping against the house that reminds me of so many nights in my youth. Probably my favorite in recent memory is not that long ago. I had a roommate that had a small aluminum boat. He being tough wasn't afraid of a cold October wind. We went out into that cold October wind in his small boat with three others through waves that were overwhelming the bow in the black of night. I remember a state of fear that seemed overwhelming as most of the boat's crew sat on the floor in the pooling water. We made it back to the dock in a boat very drunk on lake water. The next morning I woke up to my roommate yelling in the yard at the site of a sad looking vessel sitting on the bottom of the lake.

Loppet

This is my new bike. I think it is pretty awesome. I haven't ridden it yet though so I'm not really sure of it's awesomeness. It could suck, but I doubt it.

This is the team prepping for Laddies Loppet. We drank a couple of beers at the Thunder Lodge because you can't skip a place with that name. Then we drank several more beers. I could have done better in the race.

Hard core road racing excitement!

Sunday was a fantastic day. I battled for the state championship in road racing for Minnesota. I've never actually raced a road race so this was a new experience. I realized that in road racing there isn't actually any battling. It is mostly sitting there hoping someone that isn't you goes fast enough to pull back a break that seems to be threatening my future championship. We raced 72 miles and to be honest I didn't really do anything for the first 71. I sat in the back and talked with people about their lives. Sort of Oprah'esk, occasionally swerving away from a couple of dudes that seemed to be having issues. Then on the last lap I went up the hill as fast as my tiny legs would go. I didn't win, but I felt alright about where I finished. Congratulations to the gentlemen that battled the wind to hold their breakaway until the finish. Bravo.

Rain.

The day moves on as the rain begins to fall. Halfway home and the winds begin. The lighting crashes become closer and a wave of water falls from the sky. Thirty miles left and no end is in site. The pace quickens and my smile has touched both ears. We push today to do what tomorrow we may be unable.

It's always been about the money.

Finally the big bucks are rolling in. I've put a lot of time into this biking thing hoping for some large financial rewards and they are finally coming in. A few more of these and I can finally retire from the grind.

Thank you.

The last couple of weeks have seemed really packed with racing so I've been pretty happy to have a week that has been more sedate. I've still been riding every day, but it seems more like the winter style that I love. That is the kind that got me back into biking, and the kind that keeps me intoxicated with it. I love the long days spent staring at trees and creeks as I slowly pass. And lust for the weakness that comes as my will begins to fail. That is what I yearn for when I sit at work passing the day. This last week has been a return to cycling.

A tale of two races.

Two races happened this week with two very different outcomes. Thursday felt like it was going to be tough. I was creaking all day walking up the stairs at work so I had very little confidence in a positive outcome. Little did I know my legs would feel better than they have all year. I started with a fair effort and built speed pretty quickly. Pretty soon I was feeling really strong and passing some guys that I've been finishing with all year. Finally I passed a couple of people that I've been trying to catch all year. I ended up fifth. I got close to Heath before he decided he wanted to ride fast again and made me look like I was going backwards. Matt brought a ringer to the party. Mark McCormack is apparently a bigshot road/cyclocross champion. He ended third being edged out by Jesse and Brendan, but he looked really fast the couple seconds I saw him. It was a really fun race that is a highlight of my year so far.

Friday my house flooded and I took two days away from biking to clean as much as I could. It was not a trade I'd like to make again.

After two days of vacuuming the race at Mont Du Lac arrived. Last year it was a three hour walk in the mud. This year it was hot! Maybe not as hot as I thought but I was having trouble. I started fast. I guess two days of rest will do that. Who knew? At the top of the gigantic hill that is the start of the race I was sitting just behind the leaders. I was moving fast but breathing hard. All I needed to do was recover. That never happened. The heat sunk in and I felt like a pinball bouncing over the plentiful roots that are everywhere at Du Lac. It was ugly. And long. Two and a half hours of me riding poorly and slowly. Maybe next year.

Recovery is bliss.

Tonight I feel a bit like the scene from The Triplets of Belleville right before his mother begins truing his wheel. My friends on two wheels felt little like friends as they smashed me through the wind on what should have been a modest ride to Northfield. I can't complain too much as right now, Caydel and I are in the enviable position of having nothing to do but drink beer and chase the cat around. I'm doing more of one and he more of the other. I'll leave the mystery out there.

Tomorrow I will race at Buck Hill. It is always a favorite of my week. I'll have visions of grandeur until about a half hour before the race. At that point I'll convince myself that I should probably just go home. Then the race will start and I will be passed by a substantial amount of people. After about a lap I'll start to go a bit faster and pass a couple of people back. Then I will probably end in a position that is fine but not great and the week will begin again. Maybe I should get a Niner for the starting line encouragement?

Crit scatch fever.

I must be getting old because today I had the choice of racing or riding to a race and watching and chose the later. I think watching Max crash last week in conjunction to my new found addiction to crash ridden Tour De France coverage has me a bit disturbed about road racing. I'm sure it is a phase and hopefully a short one.

Grant and I ended up riding up to the crits tonight to watch some chaos. It never happened. The field spread out for all of the races making for some very interesting racing. In the 345 race there was an early break that was egged on by Chris Fisher's continued attacks at the front that strung out the field. Devon was hanging out in the back so he missed the break. He immediately attacked but had a long road to hoe alone. Keith came with but soon fell off. After a couple laps of what looked like a self consuming effort, Devin caught a group that was dangling just behind the lead two. Unfortunately none of them had the energy or will to push so he dragged them for a couple of more laps. I have to say that it was one of the more impressive efforts I have seen in a while.

The 123 race was odd. There was a break and no one would chase. Eventually a couple of people put in an effort and closed the gap a bit, but it was way to late to do anything.

Grant and I finished the evening with a ride back to his house. It was supposed to be a recovery ride but I still went as fast as I could up the hills because I am dumb. Someday I'll learn.

When I got home I took my crew chief for a walk and saw an old man walking through his kitchen. He had his walker going and was doing the old man walker shuffle. It reminded me of a line that I had heard telling me to take care of my knees because I'd miss them when they are gone. Maybe I should listen.

Tomorrow is Wednesday Night Worlds. Maybe the greatest compilation of non professional road riders in the world. Maybe not. Either way it is a fun group of guys and always a highlight of my week.

You're not hard core if you don't live hard core.

Tim and I in the midst of our training. It is a form of intervals. We drink beer, then ride really hard, then drink more beer, then ride harder, then drink more beer, finally eat food. I don't know which part makes it intervals, but it did make me sleepy. Thankfully Scott threw in a hand.

Then the stem on this bike became aroused.

Race stuff.

Today was a good day of racing that ended with me getting a medal. Cole, Tim, Grant, Rob, and Heath also got awards for their classes. Both Herrmans won their divisions! I'm sure they all went in expecting to dominate. For me it was a surprise. Owen said it was because of the naked man I saw as I was walking my crew chief this morning. He may be right, but I don't know what to do with that? Anyway I fully intend on letting it go to my head. Expect much more attitude next time you talk to me.

Hills and beer.

Buck Hill happened tonight. I started poorly and finished well so I was happy. Buck Hill is fantastic because even someone like me that can't ride a bike very well can do good. Last night was fun too. I drove to Eagan so that I could ride my bike past my front door. I love the efficiency of the bicycle. Anyway I won a hill climb so I was happy. Way to go me.

College

A beautiful Tuesday evening in MN means that the criteriums will be in the cards for a few lucky participants and several unlucky ones. I've never been a card player, but to me a crit is a poker game. If you want to win you have to risk a lot. Today I saw a young man named Max flip over his bike as his front wheel searched for a direction and decided on the wrong one. He found his way to the ground and stopped himself with his chin. It looked painful. On the other hand, my teammate ripped through the pack with a finesse and craft that any tradesman would envy. I dream that with experience I can handle myself in the professional manner that I admire in a few others. Hopefully this education doesn't cost me more than I can afford to loose. Even a professional is subject to the cards that he is dealt and should respect them.