322 – The Sickness

Nov 182013

This. Gallons of this.

Well, it finally caught up to me. I felt it coming on as early as last Tuesday, but I kept soldiering on anyway, hoping it’d clear itself up. I’m a big fan of moderate exercise when you feel yourself starting to get sick. My very unscientific theory is that raising your core temperature and heart rate through exercise helps fight infection. I have no study to back it up, but it seems from my own experience that working out can shorten the duration and lessen the intensity of whatever you’re coming down with. That, and whiskey.

So when I felt that familiar tingle in my sinuses last week, I just kept on. I rode and ran like I normally would, although with a slight decrease in speed. It seemed to be working. I didn’t get much worse. At least, it didn’t until my all-day, race and ride pedalfest on Saturday.

By Saturday night, I had just about lost my voice. By Sunday morning, I was a full-blown wreck. This morning marks the first time I’ve had to call in sick to work since probably 2009.

Maybe it would’ve happened anyway. Maybe going down for the count was inevitable, and pushing through last week was just postponing it. But there’s no denying it’s here, now. Time for rest, and lots of tea, and maybe even a little medication. Oh, and whiskey, because it hurts so good.

321 – Phase One

Mountain Biking No Responses »

Nov 172013

Long bridges still make me pucker.

Since I’d driven all the way to Columbus for the Beach Party, I figured I might as well make a day of it. After lunching on some delicious chili, a jalapeno cheese brat and a donut, courtesy of C.O.M.B.O., I changed out my bibs and race jersey for baggies and a MTB jersey, and headed over to Phase 1, one of 3 mountain bike trails built into Alum Creek State Park.

First, a confession: when it comes to mountain biking, I’m something of a homebody. I’m fortunate to live just a mile and a half from the trailhead at MoMBA, and my work is near John Bryan, so I ride those two trail systems almost exclusively. Sure, I’ve had the chance to sample singletrack in seven different states while traveling, but even while on the road, I tend to find one set of trails near where I’m staying, and then ride the daylights out of them. It’s not that I don’t like to explore, it’s just that I’m not all that good at it. It takes me awhile to learn a new trail well enough to go out and hammer it, so once I have, I tend to stay put.

If you are at all familiar with the ethos of mountain biking, you’ll know that this borders on a cardinal sin. Mountain bikers are supposed to be beard-clad, devil-may-care adventurers, exploring every trail they can turn a wheel on and deftly negotiating obstacles that make mere mortals (and roadies) quake in their Nike’s.

By that standard, I’m just not a very good mountain biker. I tend to approach things cautiously and methodically, which means it may take several laps for me to get in a groove on a new trail. I don’t crash much, but that’s more because I spend a lot of time trying not to crash than because of some innate skill on my part. I’m okay with it; I’m still having fun, it just means I have a longer learning curve. In most two-wheeled activities, it takes me longer to go fast than everybody else, but I do get up to speed eventually.

As usual, a picture can’t capture the true nature of this uphill, blind-crest feature.

Anyway, all this year, my mountain bike buddies have been bugging me to get out of town. I did get to ride some in Brown County during the Death March, and in Nashville on our anniversary trip (thanks, honey!), but there are a half-dozen trails in the local area that I’ve never sampled, simply because I haven’t loaded up and gone there.

Well, now I had the chance to rectify that, and tick at least one other Ohio trail off the list! And what a trail it was. P1, as it’s known, is a 6-mile loop in the woods on the east side of the reservoir, and features lots of punchy little climbs, rock sections, gobs of roots, and more than a few bridges. It’s a bumpy, technical course that rewards good suspension, low tire pressures and smart line choices.

I had planned to hit P1 and the more advanced P2 while I was at Alum Creek. As I bounced and jostled my way along my first lap of P1, I thought maybe I’d do two laps there, then check out P2 for a lap, before returning to P1 to finish out the day. Then I looked down and saw that I had only gone two miles! The density of features and challenges at P1 is such a sharp contrast to the fast, flowy and mostly buff trails at MoMBA and John Bryan that it created the illusion of having covered much more distance than I actually had. While 6 miles isn’t a very long way for me, by the time I had finished my first lap, I felt like I had gone much, much further. I quickly revised my plan for the day to include just two laps at P1, and then a nice warm bowl of soup on the way home! P2 will have to wait for another day.

I took two surprises away from my first lap. First, this place was far more technical than what I’m used to riding. I could really improve my bike handling skills riding here more frequently. Second, I couldn’t believe how well I did! I finished my first lap without stopping, and only balking at one feature, a steep run-up that I just didn’t look far enough ahead to see. Most days, I come away from a ride feeling that maybe I’m not as good of a rider as I think I am. After riding P1, I felt like maybe I’m a better rider than I give myself credit for! Yes, I’m still cautious, I spend entirely too much time on the brakes, and there were a lot of guys railing around on hardtails when I was wishing for even more suspension travel, but I did do it, and I did a lot of things right. My line choices were solid, my shifting and braking skills are much better than I remember them being even last season, and I didn’t fall off. Heck, I barely put a foot down and only unclipped a handful of times, something that would have been incomprehensible 18 months ago on a trail of this level.

I’m probably always going to be a cautious rider. I’ll probably always learn slowly, and take longer than others to get up to speed. But the only solution to that is more seat time, and to get out and explore more trails like P1. Hopefully, they all go about as well, and I’ll just keep becoming a better mountain biker, one pedal stroke at a time.

That’s my baby.

320 – Beach Party

Cyclocross, Events 4 Responses »

Nov 162013

Riding along the beach in a straight line? Not so bad.

This morning, I made the pleasant drive to Alum Creek State Park, host of Cap City Cross #7, dubbed the “Beach Party.” The race was to take place along and around the beach on the south side of Alum Creek Lake, and promised to be equal parts sandy slogfest, fast straightaways and off-camber mayhem.

I’ve been looking forward to this race every day, since my cyclocross baptism by fire at John Bryan with the OVCX series. I got my clock cleaned that day, but for whatever reason (or maybe that was the reason), I wanted more, pronto. I’ve been practicing with varying degrees of success on the CX course at JB in the weeks since, but what I really wanted was to grid up and have another go, and see if I could do better than next-to-last.

I pulled into the parking lot at Alum Creek a little under an hour before my race was to start. Usually that’s plenty of time to get ready, and I thought that it was, until I got out and took my sighting lap of the course. I was immediately concerned that the best tool for the job might not be my CX bike, but my mountain bike! Far different from the courses I’ve raced at Darree Fields and John Bryan, this race had a huge variation of surfaces and conditions, many of them bumpy, rooty and muddy enough to make me wish for some suspension. Unfortunately, by the time I had registered, kitted up and taken my practice lap, there were only 10 minutes left until the race start, so I made the call to stick with the ‘cross bike and hope for the best.

Time to whip out those mountain biking skills!

The intriguing thing about cyclocross as a discipline is that it’s never quite the same. Every course is different, and race organizers will frequently rearrange courses held at the same venue, just to change it up. Then there are the variables of weather, which can change everything about the race. Even the time of day that your race falls, and how many races have preceded it, can have a huge impact on the course conditions and your accompanying strategy. As much as cyclocross rewards fitness and bike handling, there are many elements of strategy that can make or break your race, as well.

The mud rut didn’t go so well for everybody…
(Click to enlarge)

One of the most obvious bits of that strategy is how to approach the obstacles. There are some, like stairs and ride-ups, that intentionally require dismounts. Others, like deep mud, ruts, sand or logovers, rely on the rider to decide if it is more expedient to try and ride over, risking a crash, or dismount and hoof it for a few yards.

The course at Alum Creek presented several of those, including some sand sections on the beach, a couple man-made obstacles directly after, and a huge, muddy rut about half way through the lap. On my sighting lap, I noticed a lot of riders standing around the rut, or rolling their bikes through it while dismounted, trying to figure out if it was passable. I looked at it while I was riding up and knew what I was looking at, which is something of a first, for me. To the right were huge rocks, and the left was already churned up and slick from so many riders trying to go around. So I picked a spot in the middle and just plowed right through, letting my momentum carry me through the mud and over the lip on the other side.

That’s a strategy I’ve employed on a lot of rides this year on the mountain bike, and it rarely lets me down. If you’re looking to get through mud, aim for the middle, where it’s likely to be level and more compressed than around the sides. Go in fast, keep your weight off the front wheel, and just hold on, and you’ll make it though. At least most of the time. You might be muddy and wet once you make it, but less than you would be if you try to go around the side and crash!

It was encouraging to know that at least some of my mountain bike skills can transfer over to cyclocross, and that helped with the decision to stick to my Airborne Delta for the race. I rolled up to the starting grid for the Men’s Cat 4/5 heat feeling loose and confident of a better showing than I had turned in at JB. There were no call-ups, so I gridded myself conservatively, not wanting to hold up any of the series regulars, and waited for the start.

Trying to turn in the sand? Well that’s a little more tricky.

After some brief instructions, the marshal walked to the back of the 34-rider grid, calling “30 SECONDS.” Next we heard the whistle, 34 shoes clicked into pedals like a mechanical round of applause, and we were off! Wave starts are always exciting, and I found myself grinning as we all barreled down the road toward the grass, and the first turn.

The opening corners were far less congested than at John Bryan, owing partly to the smaller field, but mostly to the longer start chute and wider first few corners. I had intentionally let myself slip back a few positions in the starting run, but now found myself getting held up by a couple riders as the course climbed up some doubletrack, away from the beach. It was time to start making some moves! I found a hole as the course reversed on itself and poured on the gas, passing three riders before cresting the rise.

That felt good. Real good. I’m accustomed to passing people in running events, but my only attempts at cyclocross to date have involved a lot of me riding along by myself. This felt like racing, and I liked it! I kept the hammer down as we exited the woods and wound through a grassy section, toward some off-camber switchbacks that sent us all into our climbing gears. I was determined to keep the riders behind me, behind me! We slugged through a little mud and a lot of wet, bumpy grass before slamming across an impromptu bridge made of a wooden pallet and some rugs, then headed down the hill to the already-infamous muddy rut.

I spent the whole last lap running away from this guy. He didn’t get me!

I eased up on the pedals a touch as I rolled down the hill, watching the riders ahead of me dismount and jog around the hole. I got lined up, stood on the pedals, and hoped that it hadn’t gotten too much worse since my practice lap! But my strategy worked, and I blasted through the rut, sending muddy water everywhere, and delighting the nearby photographer and spectators. Best yet, I passed all those guys who had dismounted and were now running with their bikes, trying to remount and climb the hill! My extra momentum from staying on the bike helped me get to the top without much trouble, and I was grinning, as my chest heaved and my legs dripped with mud, as we turned left, onto a brief gravel section.

Did I mention this course had everything?

A winding gravel road brought us to the beach portion of the lap, and I was again thankful for my experience on the mountain bike. I had a chance to ride some very sandy trails in North Carolina last year, with sections that were so deep that my front tire sank in and just stopped. This wasn’t nearly so bad, but it was loose enough that the turns were sketchy. A lot of riders fell on the second left turn, as the sand had been so rutted and churned up that staying upright required as much luck as skill. I took a wide line, intentionally missing the apex but staying out of the loosest portion of sand.

Properly dirty.

The beach section emptied into a muddy section, and I was reduced to slogging through in my granny gear. I looked back as I rounded a turn and saw two riders behind me, gaining ground as I was slowed in the muck. A bermed corner turned me back toward the start/finish, before which there were two obstacles, just low enough that hopping them was a tempting thought! But I was taking enough chances each lap, and my hopping skills are sub-par, so I dismounted and ran across the barriers, taking a flying leap back into the saddle on the other side.

A longish grassy section led from the start/finish to the doubletrack for another lap, and it was soft and bumpy such that it sapped your speed and energy. It was one of those sections that messes with you, because there’s not a visual cue as to why you’re working so hard, but your lungs don’t lie! I was relieved to finally get back into the woods, onto the relative ease of mud and gravel, and build some speed again!

I passed one more rider as we climbed through the woods, and kept the hammer down again to cement the pass. There was one more rider I could see ahead of me, and I hoped to be able to reel him in, though he had a couple hundred yards on me, still. A rider I hadn’t seen before came past me and quickly cleared off, perhaps the victim of an early crash that left me ahead of him when I otherwise wouldn’t have been.

Once more we rattled across the bridge and I slammed through the muddy rut, noticing that the far edge had gotten sharper as the race wore on. I only hoped it would be good enough for one more attempt! I was gaining ground on the rider ahead of me, but I couldn’t tell by how much. Up the hill, down the gravel road and back to the sand, and I tried a different line through the beach, looking for a way that wasn’t so slow. Nothing doing.

I trotted over the barriers and rode past the start/finish line, glancing ahead and then over my shoulder to figure out my place in my part of the race. I was still inching up on the rider ahead of me, but hadn’t put any distance between myself and the rider behind since my initial pass. The cowbells rang and the board indicated this would be the last lap, so it was time to go all-in!

I felt like I was getting faster with every lap, negotiating each section more confidently and putting more trust in the bike to do its job. I gave it all I had on that last lap, trying to really hit the areas that I had found myself to be faster than other riders, and find faster lines through the parts where I wasn’t. The last lap was cat-and-mouse, the three of us in a loose chain, reeling in and being reeled in, in turn. By the time we reached the beach again, I was nearly spent, but had put in just enough to insulate myself from attack by the rider chasing me. Unfortunately, so had the rider ahead of me, we finished the lap in the same order we had started it.

In the final tally, I finished 27th of 34 finishers in my race, which doesn’t seem like anything to be excited about. But after being left for dead in my last race at John Bryan, I couldn’t be more pleased with the result! I got to race with other riders, didn’t get left, rode strong and had a blast. As icing on the cake, a comparison lap later in the morning on my mountain bike revealed that I even made the right choice in equipment. My full-suspension rig was simply too heavy to be any faster, even if it was more comfortable and sure-footed over the bumps and roots.

I’m really hoping I’ll have another chance to race cyclocross before the season winds up. I’m in that puppy love phase where I get better at it every time I go out, and that sort of progress gets addicting, fast. But if I can’t make another round before winter closes in, I’ll be happy to finish on a positive note, and roll into 2014 ready for more!

(Photos courtesy Susan Hackett and Rick Jordon. Thanks you guys!)

319 EXTRA: Movember Update!

Movember No Responses »

Nov 152013

Well here we are, halfway through the month. Time for a Movember update! As you can see, the fuzzy weirdness on my upper lip continues its inexorable progression to whatever level of creepy it can attain in 30 days.

What you can’t see in this picture are the over 140 miles I’ve put in this month, in an effort to match your dollars with my miles! I’ve set my target at 500 for the month, which means I’m well behind pace.

Lucky for me, so are you! So far I’ve raised $90 to fight Man Cancer, and every dollar of that means a lot, to me. But together we can do better!

I’ve pledged to match your dollars with my miles all month long, so if you want to support a fantastic charity drive and get me out there, slaving away into the wind and cold to earn it, head over to my donation page today and chip in a few dollars!

mobro.co/PedroSuave

319 – Cleaning Up to Get Dirty

Cyclocross No Responses »

Nov 152013

Gotta wash all the mud off, so I can go get it muddy again. Make sense?

With what may be my last race of the year coming up tomorrow at the Alum Creek CX race, I thought it would be prudent to get the bike cleaned up for the occasion. The ‘cross bike was pretty well caked over with mud, after I kept crashing it in practice at JB, so I wanted to give it a proper once over to make sure everything was still in rig. Happily, after a quick bath, some oil on the chain, and a couple tweaks here and there she’s running smooth and quiet, ready to take on whatever the Cap City Cross boys and C.O.M.B.O. have to throw at me tomorrow morning.

318 – Ride of the Spandex Bandit

Cycling 2 Responses »

Nov 142013

Cue the old western music.

Spring days always feel warmer than the forecast calls for, and fall days always feel colder. Today was a case in point, where the weather was supposed to be mild, in the low 50s, but it felt much more brisk. Nevertheless, I had to get some miles in for Movember, so I layered up and headed out to try and squeeze in 30 or so miles before the sun started to set.

The ride itself was nondescript. The leaves are mostly off the trees, the sky was gray and featureless, and the route was nothing spectacular. I went north along the Great Miami to the southern edge of Troy, a tailwind making the miles easy on the way up and tempting me to go further than I should. I paused at Dye Mill Road, looked at the angle of the sun and the distance remaining, and decided to turn back into the wind, toward home. If I wanted to tack on a few more miles, I would have a chance to take the long way back to the house.

My return leg reminded me of so many of my rides in early spring of this year, when headwinds sometimes made me wonder if I was ever going to really enjoy this road bike thing. I pulled my buff over my chin and tucked into the wind, trying to shrink my profile to decrease drag. I was encouraged to look down and see my speed was still respectable, despite the headwind, and I made it back to town a full 20 minutes earlier than I had estimated.

As serious as I was taking the ride, because it just wasn’t a lot of fun, I had to have a chuckle when I realized what I must look like to the casual passerby. A lanky dude, out for a recreational pedal on a day that simply wasn’t meant for it, dressed in cycling tights, a pullover, motocross gloves and a buff pulled over his face, pedaling into the wind as fast as his skinny legs would take him. What an idiot I must look, like some misguided spandex bandit. But I’ll take looking silly, if it means I can get in my miles this fall, without getting hypothermia.

317 – Running for Fun?!

Running 1 Response »

Nov 132013

Makes running on the bike path seem downright dull, doesn’t it?

Monday night’s snow showers and accompanying cold snap ruled out a bike ride yesterday morning. Instead, I bundled up and headed to John Bryan State Park, to run the hiking trails by the gorge. While the cold took some getting used to, the beauty of the forest in early winter, with its dusting of snow, was inspiring.

I slipped and tripped my way through a little over 4 miles, following the North Rim trail out to its end and back, and on the way realized how long it’s been since I ran like this. I’ve run hard all this year, for training and racing. But I haven’t done much trail running, and I’ve done almost no running for fun. While part of the point of this run was to log some more miles for my Movember campaign, it was conspicuous in what it wasn’t. It wasn’t prep for a race, it wasn’t meant to address any one area of a training regimen, it was simply a run for the sake of running.

Because of that, I found it strangely freeing. I stopped to take pictures or admire the view whenever I felt like it, ran as hard or as easy as I wanted, and felt no guilt over my relaxed pace. It was a nice change from a year spent with such focus and purpose. Best of all, my hip only hurt a little, which maybe means that it’s healing up again.

316 – BOOM! Winter.

Life in General 1 Response »

Nov 122013

Boy, that escalated quickly.

If last night’s commute home is any indication, we may be in for a bear of a winter. In this part of Ohio, it’s not often that winter makes such an early and strong statement of its intent, but this was fairly convincing. I’m hoping for a couple more warm spells before the year is out, but maybe I shouldn’t count on them!

315 – Old Friend

Food No Responses »

Nov 112013

After finishing the OSU 4-miler, we headed over to Fado Irish Pub at Easton for a celebratory meal. On their tap list, I was surprised to find Kilkenny, an Irish cream ale I last had in Scotland in 2004, returning from a deployment. I fell in love with it then, but was saddened to come home and not be able to find it anywhere. I’ve looked high and low, but haven’t had a pint of it since.

I ordered several pints of it at Fado, and fell in love all over again. Its flavor profile is reminiscent of Guinness (who owns the Irish brewery), thanks to its nitrogenated, creamy head. But it also has a bit less weight to it and a low-ish ABV, making it immensely drinkable and a quintessential session beer. Hopefully it catches on, and I’ll be able to find it again, closer to home!

314 – Persistance

Events, Katie, Running 1 Response »

Nov 102013

Bibbed up and ready to go. I’m surprised you can’t see us shivering.

Today was probably my last running race of the year, and one of the most memorable. We were in Columbus for the Ohio State Four Miler, an inaugural event benefiting the Urban and Shelley Meyer Fund For Cancer Research. The big draw for this race was that it finished in The ‘Shoe, at the fifty-yard line of Ohio Stadium!

For me, it was less of a race and more of a fun run, because I was there primarily to support Katie, as she tackled her longest race distance to date. My recurring hip injury that ended my chances at a fourth consecutive PR at my last half marathon means that I haven’t trained much. I wouldn’t be able to put in my best effort without risk of aggravating the injury, so it was better for me to stay with Katie, and help her through her race however I could.

The forecast for the morning called for breaking clouds and cool temperatures, but neglected to mention the wind. It whipped through the buildings of the OSU campus and froze just about everybody. We arrived an hour before the start, and spent most of it huddling together behind whatever wind break we could find, trying in vain to stay warm.

This being an inaugural event, it was not without logistical problems. There was no race-day packet pickup, which is a huge oversight for a race guaranteed to draw a lot of attention from out of town. Had I not already been in Columbus on unrelated business earlier in the week, this could have been a bigger problem for us. Then there was the start, which simply was never designed to accommodate the sellout crowd of ten thousand runners and walkers. For some incomprehensible reason, the race organizers decided to do a wave start, perhaps with the intention of creating some space between the groups of people and mitigate the traffic. But it didn’t work at all, and the result was that we stood around for a half hour after the first wave went off, waiting on our turn, and got to spend most of the race weaving in and out of people anyway.

Our “i” seems less than enthusiastic.

Growing pains aside, the excitement in the mob in the start corral was undeniable. It was a very different race from your local, garden-variety 5k, and the profile and size of the event was impressive. Members of the OSU football team and staff were present, including Brutus, both to help marshal the event and to run in it!

Katie made the reasonable decision to start in a conservative place in the queue, by a sign which was supposed demarcate runners with an expected pace of 11:00/mile. When it was finally our turn to start (we were the last wave), her nerves hit the firewall. She had recently completed the same distance on a treadmill, but that isn’t quite the same thing, and she was worried about how she’d do. Her concerns were the same as every runner when they approach a new race, and aren’t sure what to expect from the distance, and from themselves.

We settled into an easy jog when we finally got across the starting line, our pace regulated by the sheer volume of walkers and other traffic we had to navigate. As the mob spilled out of the bottleneck at the start onto Woody Hayes Drive, we started to make some headway, passing other runners by the dozens and finding what would become our pace. The exertion was welcome, as it started to thaw our numb and frozen feet and hands. I felt my legs warm up and start to come in, but was careful to restrain them enough to let Katie dictate our speed.

The sun started to break through the morning overcast as we finished our first mile, and I kept coaching Katie through as best I could, offering encouragement and pointing out how nice the morning was becoming. I know from training and racing together over the past few years that her mindset is everything, so the more cheerful I could keep her, the easier the run would be for her. That seemed to work well, and we cleared the first two miles before we knew it, before turning onto College Road for the zigzag back to the finish.

The third mile was the toughest for Katie, but she did the right thing, which was to dial back the pace until she was sure she could maintain it, and then just keep going. I got my phone out and started checking our distance, to keep her engaged with how much time and distance was left to go. That helped focus and reassure her, and soon we were on our last mile, and picking up speed again.

That’s my girl. Gettin’ it done.

We turned west on Woody Hayes again, headed back to the Shoe, and the finish. As the stadium came into view, the allure of the finish, and a personal victory, spurred Katie forward, and soon we were sailing past people at a solid clip. The pace quickened further when we turned alongside the stadium, and by the time we angled into the tunnel to enter the field, we were at a dead run. I couldn’t stay next to her any more, as the crowd was still too dense, and so we careened separately through the masses like a police chase through rush hour traffic. She was the very face of determination, and I that of the adoring fan, and I was doing everything I could to get back next to her before we crossed the finish.

The flood of emotion that came over her as she reached the line is all too familiar, to me. All of her struggles, and setbacks, and postponed dreams, all of the hard work, the sweat, the pain, the personal sacrifice that this whole year has embodied came over her in a rush. Once she knew she could finish, she felt nothing from her body but the insatiable desire to go faster, to get to that line. Nothing was going to stop her this time, not aching feet or painful hips or sinus infections or strained muscles. She exploded across the finish line in tears of joy and relief, and was soon sobbing on my shoulder.

I, on the other hand, was beaming. I’ve always been proud of Katie, but she really rocked it this time, and for the first time in a running event, success was never in doubt. She went out there and conquered this race, and in convincing fashion. I couldn’t be more impressed, and I can’t wait to see what next season holds for her, as she continues to train and get stronger and faster.

Being an athlete in your spare time is incredibly difficult. Juggling the schedules of work, family, your personal life and physical training sometimes leaves no time at all for relaxation. If I was the only one in the house doing it, things would be even harder. But having my wife and best friend to share in the daily struggles involved with trying to become an athlete, and then trying to become a better one, makes everything better, richer, and easier. We coach each other and learn from each other on a daily basis, and neither of us would have come as far as we have without the other.

This year, more than ever, Katie has taught me how to fight. She set a goal at the beginning this year to run a half marathon, and was on schedule to do so until injuries stalled her progress. She was forced to back down from her goal for this year, but she never used that as an excuse to quit. Her attitude through all the struggles she’s faced this year has been my own quiet inspiration. She knows to never mistake “not yet” for “no,” and that sometimes a tactical delay can lead to strategic victories. She has demonstrated the power of persistence, and has kept coming no matter how many times life has kicked her in the face. She’s never thrown up her hands in surrender to a problem, as I am so often tempted to. Watching her succeed, as I’ve been privileged to to all year, is better than any race performance I have ever turned in.

Great job, Katie. I can’t wait to see what you’ll do next year.

313 – Welcome Back Baby

Mountain Biking No Responses »

Nov 092013

I don’t know if I’ve ever seen this bike so clean!

If you recall what my bike looked like after the rain-soaked MoMBA XC Classic, you know that this is something of a miracle. I hosed it down to get most of the mud off, but everything on the bike was still crunchy. I turned it in to my friend and mechanic Chris Worrell, formerly of Village Cyclery, for a much-needed overhaul.

Aaron and I between trails.

The brakes were shot front and rear, the drivetrain was packed full of grit, the rear suspension linkage was sloppy, and the bike was just tired, in general. Over a couple weeks, Chris brought it back from the dead, and delivered it back to me at the MVMBA Chili Ride and annual awards day, running like the day it was new. He replaced the brake pads, flushed the fluid, rebuilt the entire rear suspension linkage, cleaned and tuned the drivetrain, and basically gave it a thorough once-over, all for a fee so low I wouldn’t feel right disclosing it.

I had the chance to try it out immediately, heading out for a lap at John Bryan with my friends Erik, Katie (not mine) and Aaron. The trails were covered nearly end to end with leaves, so pushing it up wasn’t an option, but I did get a feel for my rejuvenated bike. And it felt good. It runs smooth and quiet over the bumps, the brakes have a far more progressive feel to them, and the shifting is absolutely flawless. After spending a few weeks riding nothing but my rigid-frame bikes, it was nice to be back on full-squish, and nice to be able to ride around on dirt with some confidence, something I haven’t yet gained on my ‘cross bike.

Maybe next year…

After our leisurely lap, we headed back to the lodge for several bowls of chili and the annual awards presentation. This year has been a particularly good one for the club, with a whole lot of new members, and well-attended races that were, all but one, graced with great weather.

I missed out on a medal this year by one position, finishing fourth among the riders in the Sport class who ran enough races (4) to qualify for the championship. I’ll be giving the Sport class another go next season, while some riders will move up and out, and others will move up to Sport from Beginner. I hope, as I continue to build my fitness and skills, that next season will see me stepping on the podium with more regularity, and maybe I can even contend for the championship. Modest dreams, perhaps, but dreams nonetheless.

312 – One Pound Steak

Food, Life in General No Responses »

Nov 082013

Kerry (seated) poses on the Birthday Saddle. And some other dude makes it even funnier.

Today was another hill climb workout, for me. I went alone this time, and was surprised at how much less motivation I had, without Katie there. I rode almost 17 miles and set a PR on one of the hills, but I still just didn’t feel the urge to attack and hammer like I did when she was there. I guess part of me still likes to show off for my girl!

After I was done pedaling and Katie was done at CrossFit, we headed over to Texas Roadhouse for a surprise birthday party for Kerry, one of the owners of Katie’s gym. It was a lively time with a bunch of cool people, and Kerry seemed genuinely surprised and moved at the turnout. I got to meet a couple of Katie’s CF friends, which was nice, and one of them even bought our table shots of tequila!

I was ravenous by the time we finally got seated and ready to order, so I called for a 16 oz sirloin. It was cooked and seasoned well enough, and in fact was impressive for a national chain. But I’ve grown accustomed to the beef from Innisfree, so I thought it lacked some flavor. After the dinner rolls, margaritas and appetizers, I put down the whole steak and left happily stuffed. More of my post workout meals should follow this pattern!

Yep. That’s a pound of steak.

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