Chris Horner

I'll say it here, as I've said it before: Chris Horner is clean. So many people I know were speaking in complete doubt by the time he won stage 10 at La Vuelta. But this is not about doping, I just had to get that out of the way for all the doubters out there. I might expand on my 'why' later on, but I'll just go with this:

<blockquote class="twitter-tweet"><p>If you don&#39;t think Horner&#39;s performance is believable, you haven&#39;t been paying attention to the little details of his career.</p>&mdash; Adam Myerson (@AdamMyerson) <a href="https://twitter.com/AdamMyerson/statuses/378908857495347202">September 14, 2013</a></blockquote>

<script async src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script>

Adam Myerson is a class act. Especially when it comes to doping/anti-doping topics. I had the good fortune of spending some time riding with him last winter. I saw him (at 40 years old) come back from his offseason. I went from riding ahead of him, to getting dropped on a 1% grade in the matter of 3 weeks. He said himself, that his FTP has improved and the only part of his riding that has fallen off is his peak power. Which makes sense: It has been long known that muscle composition is reduced in Type II as we age (especially following 30+ years).

The real reason for this post is about how much I like Horner and the fact that he has not yet signed on for a team for 2014. I'm 'new' to cycling, and don't know a whole lot of its history. The first year I really even watched the Tour (de France) was 2011. My favorite rider going into it was Chris Horner. He was by far a longshot, but I watched some of the Tour of California and was enthralled by his ride there. I had no clue how small or big his chances were, but I was excited to see him head to the big race. Sadly, he crashed early on and was out of the race. My interest dropped quite a bit. Nevertheless it was formed that he was one of my favorite riders in the peloton.

Now, following an injury-ridden midseason, he was able to come back and get 2nd at Tour of Utah and then get on the squad for the Vuelta. He made his underestimated presence known, when he was "let go" on Stage 3 by the "Big Names" and took a stage victory. It was a summit finish, so a decent selection was already made. With 1K to go, Horner attacked and people just looked at each other. If it was 2K left, the result would have been VERY different. But the short lack of response/concern with such a short distance left gave Horner the gap he needed to win. He lost the lead the next day (intentionally?), and thus the team was not under pressure. Horner went on to take stage 10 as well. And the overall victory. An unprecedented feat in a Grand Tour for a 41 year old to do (even the stage victories hadn't been done).

So, Horner did something that has never even close to been done before. That's pretty awesome. He is 'old' in terms of pro cycling, and is fragile - reinforced by his broken ribs at Worlds (although, if I fell on a coke can in a hard crash I'd be busted up pretty good as well). How much more time does the guy have left? Well, for one he's clearly in the best form of his career. He's a class act and is responsible AND respectful of his sport and his peers. That alone is reason to hire him. I don't know what sort of money he wants and what he's being offered - so that is likely the full reason why he has not yet signed.

Teams are hesitant to do an unprecedented thing - give a lot of money to an guy his age. But didn't Horner just prove his capabilities and riding at his current age are exactly that? Should he be getting a two-year high paying deal? That is debatable. He definitely deserves at least a good, solid 1-year contract. Then that team gets a nice boost in WorldTour Points...who knows what extra he could have gotten if he hadn't crashed out of Worlds!

I really don't think having Horner on your team causes any real doping concerned threats. His history of even mention in any doping scandals is less than most of the 30 year olds in the peloton (that would be zero, to my knowledge). He doesn't carry baggage like Contador, Basso, or even Frank Schleck and Danielson. He has 2 flaws: age and injury.

So, ProTeams, hire Horner. Just listen to him. Expect him to dictate the terms of his own training. And don't over-race him or throw him into crits or Paris-Roubaix. Maybe have him try to double up on the Vuelta by racing early, skipping part of mid-season, and no other Grand Tours.

I think Horner's a badass and deserves a reasonable, good contract. He's a talent whose capabilities are unprecedented, don't let that go to waste.

Quenton Cassidy has what is probably the Best Book Quote. Ever.

Again to Carthage, John L. Parker, Jr. Quenton Cassidy, in a note to his college girlfriend and good friend about returning to racing.

"When you're a competitive runner in training you are constantly in a process of ascending.  It's a simple idea, but the more I thought about it, the more profound it became to me.

It's not something most human beings would give a moment of consideration to, that it is actually possible to be living for years in a state of constant betterment.  To consider that you are better today than you were yesterday or a year ago, and that you will be better still tomorrow or next week or at tournament time your senior year.  That if you're doing it right you are an organism constantly evolving toward some agreed-upon approximation of excellence.  Wouldn't that be at least one definition of a spiritual state?

When I was a runner it was something we lived every second of our lives.  It was such a part of us that if we had ever given it any thought, it would have been a mental lapse, a sign of weakness.  Of course I am getting better every day, I would have said, what the hell am I training for otherwise?  As if there were only one alternative, as if the arrow of improvement necessarily parallels the arrow of time, and in only one direction.

You might say that we're just talking about an artifact of youth.  That when you're young it is only natural to grow larger and stronger, to learn things, to master more and more of the skills and techniques of life, to get better, to improve. 

If that's true then how do we end up with so many monsters, trolls, dickheads, and pyschopaths?  So many Pol Pots, Joe McCarthys, Ted Bundys, and Lee Harvey Oswalds?  Or Nixons for that matter?  They were all young once and relatively harmless, and in a better universe they would have stayed that way.

Or consider the religious aesthete whose piety and serenity and good works increase and multiply as the years go by, into middle age, into old ago, onto the deathbed.  She's working on it too, and what keeps her going is the absolute conviction that every day she's getting better, saving more souls, that she's getting closer to God.

My point is that this way of living that we once took for granted isn't necessarily a "natural" process at all.  It's not like water flowing down to the sea, not like aging.  It takes effort, determination, conviction.  But mostly it takes will.  It takes a conscious decision to follow one difficult uphill path, and then the will to stay with it and not waver, to not give up.

Our fellow students at Southeastern back then, all twenty-five thousand of them, were getting better some days and worse some days, and they were doing so at different things and at different times.  There were athletes in other sports who had better sophomore years than they had junior years.  There were athletes who were better in high school than they would ever be in college.  There were some who were good or at least average students when they arrived and then discovered beer or the opposite sex or both and were never good at anything else in their lives.  Generally speaking, most of them probably knew more when they left than when they arrived, but then again what they ended up knowing might have been wrong.  

I'm not saying that we ourselves did not have setbacks, doldrums, bad luck, and reversals of all kinds.  We got sick and we got hurt, certainly, often because of our quest.  We got waylaid and distracted by fads, false idols, wars, and rumors of wars.  I'm not saying we weren't human in every way you can be human.  I'm just saying that all things being equal, by and large each and every day we were getting better at that one singularly difficult task and goal we had set for ourselves.

And I'm also saying that win, lose, or draw, just being involved in such an undertaking was itself ennobling.  It was an uplifting enterprise that we all intuitively understood to be such, and I now know that almost incidentally the spiritual force of our effort created a slipstream that drew all else in our lives along with it and made us better in other ways as well.  Better, happier, more complete human beings than we would have been otherwise.

And Andrea, I missed all that.  The arrow of my life was going one direction one day, another direction another day.  I had people who thought I was wonderful when I won their appeal, or secured custody of their child, and I had legatees who hated me because they didn't end up quite as rich as they thought they would.  Some of it is satisfying, some interesting, but precious little is in the least bit ennobling.

This is not ennui, not nostalgia.  I am not numb or jaded.  I've had revelations in deep waters and gone all light and airy inside listening to good music made by friends.  I appreciate things, I really do.  I can be made happy on a cloudy day by as little a thing as a stray sunbeam on a branch of elkhorn coral.  All of that.  I've been blessed and blessed and blessed and only a scoundrel and ingrate would complain about any of it and I'm certainly not doing that.

But still, I miss the spiritual certainty in the direction of that arrow.  And when recently I looked around and saw people in my life dying of natural and unnatural causes it occurred to me that I myself would not live forever and that I had long ago given up the certainty of that arrow before I had to.  It also occurred to me that I had a little bit of time left to reclaim it.  To be a runner again, to know precisely what it is I'm trying to accomplish every day.  It won't be the same, I know.  It can't be.  But it can be something.  

That's what it's all about."

300 not on 100. How to jump into what you may not be ready for.

So, most of you know that I rode the #300noton100 ride with the very well known Ted King (TK) and Tim Johnson (TJ), and the lesser known but gloriously entertaining Ryan T Kelly (rTK)...where I remain as the unknown other TK. Much like my days at Rochester, where Tyler Kieft preceded me on the XC team.

The past iterations of the ride, 200mi rides in one day, have been growing in popularity and participation. This one was no different - a 2day/300mile party. I decided (late) that I was going to do the ride. Ted kindly offered to provide hotel shelter for anyone daring to do the full monty, which need be listed in bullet form due to high volume:

• Me 

So I was the lone ranger, hopping aboard with the well-acquainted three amigos. Fortunately, I knew Ryan from racing and have a few overlapping contacts with Ted. Tim, however, remained unknown to me aside from the guy who has won so many CX Nats I lost count....and is sponsored by Red Bull (thank goodness). I quickly knew I'd like Tim as he gave us the safety/etiquette chat @ D^2 Java, which was very kindly paid for by LOCO Cycling (thank goodness, again). I've never met a rider more dedicated to safe group riding and a mutual responsibility for keeping the road safe for all users. I bet VW is very happy to have him as a sponsored rider.

Another bonus was Andy Levine, Chad Jacobs, and Stephane Dumont of Duvine Adventures. Want an amazing luxury cycling trip? Do this. And no, Andy didn't pay me to say that...although he did provide much amusement to all except himself over the 300 miles!

Anyway, we took off from D^2 (not DD!!) with a hefty group, which slowly dwindled as we approached the Maine-NH line...where we saw A BRIDGE!!! If you'd like to LAUGH YOUR ASS OFF, open the link then immediately open in a second tab. Or click here then here. I rode 125 miles without putting my nose in the wind, which is about 10 times longer than I've ever done that. Well, except I took lead navigator through Portland...but bike paths at 15mph doesn't count as a pull. Speaking of Portland...SCRATCH BAKING CO. Go there. They are awesome and they love bikes too. And they support Healthy Kids Happy Kids (so should you)! Speaking of which, there was a massive gathering that met us at Scratch and more people joined on between Portland and Brunswick. After Bath it was just TK, TJ, rTK, Me, Andy, and Eliot Pitney (who joined at Scratch, went to Boothbay, then rode solo home to Brunswick).We say ANOTHER BRIDGE!

After 125mi: RED BULL (Thanks Tim Johnson fueled by Tim Johnson). Then I took 3 pulls...although I think Tim remembers only one as I recall him saying "You had a good pull there Travis." Maybe 2 were just that weak?

I hung out with our wicked cool support crew Chad & Stephane, met Lyne Bessette, and cleaned the $25,000 beauts of engineering prowess. 4 Cdale's and 1 awesome Giant.

Day 2: I'm a bit tired. Yesterday was my longest ride ever and despite barely doing any work...it was still tough. Luckily I took no chances on refueling. I likely gained a little weight Tuesday. But if it meant surviving Wednesday, then it was necessary. Wednesday started off hard - 1700ft in the first hour, and being warned by Tim "plan for the whole day" when I took some early pulls. The first couple felt GREAT, then my legs felt like they should have, so I smartened up and sat in.

This happened:

Then THIS, which was followed by more RED BULL then a double espresso after 600m of riding.

Poutine @ Duckfat

Lastly, this:

Old Man Sweat, AKA Bike Killer.

It was awesome to do the full event, and I definitely appreciate Tim, Ted, and Ryan for so happily having me partake in the journey. Next year I'll be in much better shape and very much hope to participate in the full once again...whatever crazy adventure arises. I was thoroughly impressed how long Andy held on, Ryan (an expert on acknowledging when a person cracks) estimated a minimum of 4 consecutive cracks on Day 2. An impressive number, to say the least. Andy held on with a valiant death grip and made it farther than anyone anticipated, chapeau!

I definitely learned a lot (mostly intellectual and not physical) on the ride and that was by far my biggest takeaway. Mostly how respectful Ted and Tim are, on and off the roads...and how friggen funny Ryan is when he cracks...or when bridges happen...

Here's the Teaser Video and Ted's Blog.

Green Mountain Wrap Up, belated

Green Mountain Stage Race is something I've looked at as the culmination and best of Northeast stage racing. This would be my first chance to race it, but I went in knowing I wouldn't be in proper overall placing form. Fortunately, due to a good friendship with a rider on the Grinta Cycling Team (and their whole team being a bunch of good guys), I was going to be able to make myself useful as a support rider for their squad.

We arrived Thursday for the Friday-Monday stage race, in good spirits and with a high level of excitement...because, well, it's Vermont. Maine is amazing and does have the good ol' Atlantic. But this was the first time I've really appreciated the beauty, purity of nature, and terrain that Vermont offers. I like it. Anyone have a ski house in the Green Mountains that I can tend to and take care of the upkeep on a bit next summer?

To the races: Day 1: Time Trial, strong uphill, fast downhill (but nets with some noticeable elevation gain). With my current (lack of) training there are two things I have lost bigtime: climbing and TT-ing. So this was going to be rough. It hurt. The kind of hurt that happens early, often, and flat out bums you out. Because weeks or months earlier that hurt wouldn't happen at this effort. But, today, it sucks. Your only reprieve is to attack that misery and do your best to harness it, even though you know it won't be resulting in a good performance. It was one of the hardest time trials I had done for this exact reason. You are giving it everything, and getting out seemingly nothing. But, life goes on...even if you do get dizzy, can't sprint at the finish, and throw up in your mouth a little. I ended up in a expectedly disappointing 41st place, 1:30 back on the leader - fellow Mainer, Eric Follen, who has shown exceptional form for months on end. The man I picked for a top GC spot. Fortunately, our (Grinta's) top rider - Johan - showed up this weekend with 9th @ 40 seconds back, and only 15 seconds from the podium.

Day 2: Circuit race. Today was for the big sprinter on the team, Jason Barella. I'm a good sprinter, but as a guest rider I was going to be helping keep the pressure off of Jason, Johan, and Reid who would be the finishing crew. Alex and I covered attacks and got into moves. I picked up a few sprint points and got into two breaks, one of which I really thought was going to make a run for the win. I spent a few matches (which, I later learned was ALL of my matches when I cramped up on the last climb). Jason held STRONG - not getting dropped as he did in the Cat 3 race last year - and would come ready for the finish. A group of 3 got off the front on the last lap and the field would fight for 4th. Jason, with a ballsy and strong leadout aid from Reid and especially Johan (the guy who normally would be saving energy for Day 3), nipped off 4th in the field sprint for 7th on the stage. With my cramping, I pedaled in easy 8 minutes back...making myself zero threat for any contender.

Day 3: Road Race, 100 miles, 4 climbs, one sprint. Summit finish on the epic Appalachian Gap. There was a long neutral roll out until the official start. The plan today was keep Johan saved up for when the last 30 miles came along, which would decide the final standings of the overall race. I had a few sprint points and decided to make a move I had never done. The official signaled the start of the race. Everyone was cruising at 18mph. I attacked, no one with me, and put my head down. Looking back periodically I noticed minimal response from the field. It was clear no one else desired to ride 100 miles out front today. I was ready, whether or not I could survive it. The gap to the field floated between 50 and 200 meters, until my teammate Reid made his way up to me - safely and alone. We worked it really hard to get the sprint points for me at mile 13. Once it was set, I thanked him and told him to keep it steady but conserve. I would do what I could to keep the pace high: we had averaged nearly 27mph for the first 45 minutes of the race. I was riding stronger than I had in the 15 minute time trial two days prior. I was, as we say, feeling wicked good. Shortly after, a good group of seven made their way up to us. I greeted them, "Welcome to the party, boys!" There was no response...they had to have been absolutely crushing it to get to us. I was pretty impressed (and happy to see more people) actually. Jurgen, a good friend and mentor, insisted that I rest a bit because I had been out front for so long. I did after he told me more sternly. Fast forward to mile 65: our break was now down to 6 and showing notable cracks in the foundation. We were all still working together, but the whole working thing went from "hard" to "whatever I can still do". It's a long day, being out front like that. I now understood. First up baby gap and I'm hurting. Clearly my shot at making a stage placing is out. On the descent, I was left with Alberto from Dealer.com, and a group comes flying by us. As the pass my brain makes a realization: "JOHAN IS IN IT. SHIT, I NEED TO GET UP THERE." I barely have enough to catch onto their group and immediately get to work. Johan is going for a top placing and this group is a couple minutes back as the remaining distance dwindles. I put it all on the line, as I know with 10-15 miles to go there are a couple short uphills that will likely end my day. I tell Johan that the next uphill will likely see me getting dropped, and sure enough it does.

The rest of my race goes as follows: get caught by group, get dropped on uphill. I'm SPENT. I eat/drink every last thing in my pockets. Drink a Coke on the final feed zone within 100 meters. 5 miles of (mostly) climbing and then I finish.

The rest of the important part of the day goes as follows: Johan's group makes its way to the leaders. The large group doesn't work together at all. Johan tries to get people to help out. Proceeds to tell everyone to "please go away" in a not-so-pleasant way, because no one is being agreeable, and attacks. He rides solo with a lead into Baby Gap. He is eventually caught by a mere 3 other riders, taking FOURTH (WOOOHOO!!) on the day. He would be in 3rd GC after the "Queen Stage". Everyone on the team makes the time gap, and we live for....

Johan's call up. With Grinta! clearly showing a serious presence.

Day 4: Criterium. Hard, technical, uphill, downhill. In one word (if I were fit): "FUN". In one word (today): "ohshit" haha. Today would, in theory, be for 2 things: 1) get me the sprint jersey and hopefully a top placing on the stage. 2) keep Johan on the GC podium and hope even that first or second might lose time. One of those theories held. Someone slammed into me at the start and, bending my derailleur hanger, I went from second row to last few riders. My shifting was now off, and accelerating was showing an unhappy drivetrain. I had to pit twice, and nearly needed to get a new bike from the pit. But, thanks to SRAM Neutral Support's diligence, I was back in the race. At this point I was toast and was in survival mode. I was no bit on top of my game. I wasn't riding smart or strong. I tried to get up near the front of the pack but failed. I ended up surviving the day and both Reid and Johan did incredible work. Johan would hold onto 3rd place GC and make the entirety of our weekend worth it all!

The Squad. Tired, but happy.

It was nice to seriously ride with/for a team for the first time since I started racing. Thanks, Grinta, for having me. It was a fun and enjoyable weekend. Next year, I won't be finishing 48th of 53....that's for sure!

Seven Seconds: The Separation (of a Shoulder) from a Dream

This is not a rant, not about being steadfast with rules, and not about making noise.

After writing this, I realized this was an expression of nervousness (for Ted King), hope (for his health AND continuing on in the Tour), and a sort of frustrated sadness (or sad frustration?)...all because I can't imagine what Ted King feels right now. I say "Ted King" and not "Ted" because I am not one of the many fortunate individuals who knows him personally. Although from the hundreds of stories I hear about him, I really need to meet this awesome guy! My only hope is that whatever the day holds tomorrow, he can recover - emotionally and physically - and grow for the part of cycling's future that he is.

Let me begin with this: It was the start of the 2012 Dempsey Challenge. It was miserable. 41F, steady rain, and the pre-ride proceedings felt like an eternity as all the riders stood (shivering/convulsing) in the rain while the required speeches, thank you's, and introductions were made. If this was a race, I would have been annoyed, but this was a wonderful cause, so the emotion of the event made the misery far more bearable. The pros who attended the race were in the same boat as all of us...except maybe a touch better dressed with their sweet sponsor clothing. It was going to be a very long, and very well earned 100 miles...

After the opening kilometers, we caught up to the VIPs and Pros. While riding through this group, I rode next to (and talked to!!!) Ted King for a minute or two. If you knew me 10-15 years ago, my life revolved around skiing. My heroes were guys like Jonny Moseley, Eric Bergoust, Nikki Stone, and Veronica Brenner. Chatting with a guy like Ted King, it was the first time I felt the excitement of that which I had when I was a little kid. That one time I got to "try on" both Jonny Moseley's Mogul & Nikki Stone's Aerials Gold Medals from the 1998 Nagano Olympics...in the same day.

I (unfortunately) do not know Ted King like many of my friends do, but I hope to really get the chance to meet him somewhere down the line...maybe on a 200 Not On 100 event.

So, to the 'recent events'. I know that this REALLY SUCKS about Ted King, given a separated shoulder and only a mere 7 seconds of time for missing the cut. I know he is very highly respected by his teammates, sponsors, and all his competitors and colleagues. He is absolutely loved by the people who like, enjoy, and love the sport of cycling. He represents everything cyclists want to be - as an athlete and, more importantly, as a person. However, these are the rules - sometimes they work as intended and make sense...and sometimes they work as intended and really seriously screw over a really great human being.

Better put: Professional cycling (and the world as a whole) needs more people like Ted King.

That being said, I have every expectation that the actual time for Ted's finish (which seems a bit unsure) should be re-evaluated and ensured that it is, in fact, correct. If it does remain 7 seconds short, I also expect the race organizers to take the fact of stage one's finishing time neutralization into account when passing a judgement on ending Ted's Tour.

If he makes it into stage 5, I pray he steadily gains strength and health AND doesn't permanently damage his body in hopes of recovering enough to complete this first Tour of his. If he does not make stage 5, I look forward to his speedy recovery and him training even harder (if such a thing is possible) than he has in the past to prepare to support his team for the rest of 2013...and to prepare for whatever squad is lucky enough to have him in 2014.

One BIG thing is that clearly he can still ride sufficiently with the separated shoulder. He absolutely CRUSHED a solo TT, instead of the TTT he would have hoped to help crush with the Cannondale squad. The biggest thing though, is if he can recover quickly (or at all) to be the Ted King we all hoped to see in this year's Tour de France. That is up in the air with the seriousness of his injury. He needs to survive 5 more stages and time cuts, two of which have a pretty damn hellish amount/difficulty of climbing...and another that has a lot. Then he gets ONE REST DAY. At that point stages 10-13 are "easy" (ha, 'easy') except for the individual TT, which will be hellish on the shoulder. After that the mountains are here and if he hasn't recovered a lot it up to that point it will be damage control and him playing a support role on Cannondale.

I'm no expert and do not claim to be. I feel like I'm a reasonable person and - most of the time - think before I speak or write. I've only broken my collarbone (and "only" once). When it happened I did ride the next day, but I rode on a trainer for a few weeks and didn't hit the road until I was well healed. So I can't imagine the absolute toughness or horror or fear of future damage that Ted King (and all the injured riders in races) is going through.

#lettedride - whether it be tomorrow (well, technically, 'today' for him) or in a future tour.

Look at this guy. How could you NOT like him!

Purgatory RR: In bullet points.

The Race: Attack, fail, more attacks, fail, break got away, attack extremely hard, get pulled back, assume position of "pack filler" with no more attacks left. Feel like shit on climb #2. Sit in middle of pack. Miss big crash, smell lots of burning rubber/carbon, thank myself that I wasn't up there in the attacking this lap. Fell like crap on climb #3. Work with fellow stragglers to rejoin pack. Sit in literally the back of the pack. Feel okay on climb #4. Feel good after climb #5...three guys get away through the start/finish. Take a BIG pull on the downhill, someone (John Harris) attacks just before the feed zone, somehow I match the attack with one other.

The three of us (Harris, Eric Follen, and I) go balls out (at least I was going that hard) and separate from field. I say "oh crap" just before the finish of the feed zone hill because I thought I had imploded. Muster strength to get on wheels of the other two. Work our asses off to catch the 3 who got away 1K before us. Catch those 3. Establish lead over field, catch remnants of break and immediately drop them...except Keith Kelly (who cramped horribly) who is beast enough to survive with us despite said cramps.

Only 4 guys up the road (they would place 1-4), with our group of 7 in a clear gap of the peloton to take 5th-11th...until, when I was feeling absolutely pumped about the final climb - the first time in the race when I wasn't concerned about how I'd get up it, 4K to go when suddenly (while pedaling totally steady and not hard at all) my groin locked up horribly. I had to jump off my bike. Tried stretching, couldn't even clip in, stretched again, no dice, stretched again (knowing the pack was coming soon), tried pedaling single leg, no dice. Tried walking, no dice. Field passes me. Stragglers pass me. Still can't do anything to rid myself of cramps. DNF.

Got a ride back from a kind gentleman...who offered me a beer to which I kindly declined, he had a road beer - that lifted my spirits and made me chuckle. Internally, of course.

My take: I rode an aggressive race to start - and simply missed the break because I was in between attacks and not because I was away from the front of the race. I was extremely patient and recovered once I knew that bridging to the break was out of the question. Slowly, I regained strength, and put it ALL on the line when the moment seemed right. It was. I put myself in position for a great result in a very strong field. I rode smart in the chase group, not overexerting and not covering gaps that opened. I had never ridden like that (intelligent) in my life. For some reason, without a major stimulus (I didn't do anything to spark it) and simply from the wear and tear of the race, I cramped up like never before: in Tucson and Battenkill I had really bad cramps but was able to land 4th and 15th (top group) in those races.

I'm happy with Purgatory this year - especially with how dumb I was last year. Just didn't quite have it in me. I'm quite bummed about how it ended, I would've understood if I exploded to my demise on the last climb. But not on an easy false flat. I proved a few things to myself yesterday and, for that, I am pleased.

Time to train it up and prep the body (and mind) for the next race...whenever it may be.

Killington 2013: Where the Stages are known by Weather, not event

The weather was looking primo for the race weekend. That went to absolute trash on Tues/Wed. Rain, cold, wind, chance of snow Saturday night into Sunday.

Also - no pictures posted yet...sooo there is minimal photographic evidence that the weekend even happened...

Ford Transit - award for "Best Bike Race Car" of the year.

This is how we warmed up for the Circuit race:
Simultaneous Tour of Belgium & Giro spectating!

This weather only made the very dangerous circuit race even more dangerous, thanks to numb hands, inability to think, and slick roads/poor visibility. Our circuit was reduced to 3 laps by the start (54mi vs 72mi). The 15% descent with a tight turn was crazy. FULL on brakes, still moving fairly fast. Luckily there were no crashes here. I want to state right here, the new BBS rain/windjackets are out of this world. The VOMax jacket with the Invexus coating is phenomenal. Both Andrew and I were dry under out jackets. Hands were obliviously pretty cold. With about 6K to go on lap 2, the referee comes by telling us that we are only doing 2 laps instead of 3. I knew this late in the lap it was going to lead to one situation known as a CFS or, among cyclists, "bat-shit crazy". People immediately began launching attacks off the front, but it was clear nothing would stick. Serious crosswinds, hard rain, and FAST finish meant one thing: more danger than we anticipated. With 3K to go, I was moving up and I heard the classic pre-crash noises: crunching, shouting, scraping. Then I saw it: mid-pack there was (likely) a touch of wheels, then 5-6 guys go down, sliding at about 35mph on the slick road. I immediately bail to the right, off the road and into the dirt. Success. This made me decide to finish the race in the pack and not go for the sprint. Result: Same time, 40th or so place, and 12sec behind the leader.

This is what happens when 6 guys take over a 4 person condo...insanity.

Road Race: 75 Miles, 2x7Km climb, 1x3K dirt climb, 1x8K (very hard) summit finish. This was the stage that will set the GC basis, with the final TT allowing some small place changes. It was "decent" weather: sporadic light rain, windy, and about 45F. The race was of a normal pace for the early portions. Andrew had a valve issue with both wheels that resulted in needing a double wheel change at mile 3 of the race. This was not a great start to the day, but fortunately I was nearby when the issue began up the initial climb from the start. I dropped with him for the change/chase, which actually was a pretty serious effort to get back onto the field after losing about 1 minute! After that it was recover and relax on the long (15mi) downhill section. First time up the 7K climb was hard, but nothing big happened. I worked to try to get off the front after the KOM point, and (finally) after a handful of efforts a group of 5 of us got some distance...I did not know we were hitting this same - rather brutal - climb again or I would have sat in conserving energy - which ended up not being my theme of the day, more to come on that. The mini-break got about 20-30 seconds into the next time up the climb, which was very quickly erased. I quickly realized the cost of my move - the big guns whom I had pegged (Keith Kelly, Dereck Treadwell, Anthony Clark) were pushing the pace HARD...and I had no legs to hold their speedy climbing, especially when coming into the climb on a hard effort. I tried to stick to them with Eric Follen (who was in the small break effort) and we really tried to mentally keep each other on target, but both of us soon became detached and were suffering just to hold the front of the main pack. After the KOM point, it was clear that the break up ahead had a notable gap and the firepower to be a serious race winning threat. The peloton didn't chase, but didn't sit up. The gap remained steady while Keith Kelly got far ahead from the rest of the break. What happened next I still can't figure out why I did it. We were 1K from the feed zone, coming into a long 2-3% grade and I just slammed on the gas, hard, from the front of the pack and didn't look around for about 20 seconds. I had gotten off the front by about 15 meters. I kept the effort high and now had 25m and could see I had moved towards the break, which had about 1 minute on us. Settling in, eyeing the break, I quickly realized I could make the solo bridge - especially if they decided to slow down and take on water/food in the feed zone - but it was going to be tough. I did a couple looks back and forth, and then committed. Shortly thereafter, I checked to make sure I wasn't being chased down.

Yes, snow.

What I saw was quite a shocker: Andrew got away from the bunch with John Herrick! I refused to slow my chase, as I had found a perfect rhythm for my chase (and I knew Andrew/John easily had the strength to swipe me up without me slowing). Through the feed zone we worked and then caught the break. I thought to myself, "This is it - we have made the winning move". Pacelining, the 8 of us built up what could only have been a pretty solid gap on the field. Over the next 25 miles we worked our asses off to keep steady and smooth. Regardless of our strong effort, the Hot Tubes team was not going to be okay without a rider in the break. A group of 8-10 got away from the peloton and (impressively) chased us down. We were now 17 guys, who definitely would be battling for the victory and GC spots. Only problem with such a large group...you get a lot of dissent and refusal to work for the group. Our group of 7 was doing a great job, and so was the other group of 10. Combined, however, was much different. We still kept moving (into the massive headwind), but it was neither smooth nor steady at this point. With 10 miles to go I knew I didn't have the legs to make a contending effort up the Cat 2 finishing climb. I convinced myself I had a single option: bank some time from the group that wasn't working together. I attacked 3 times and got nothing. Chad Young (Hot Tubes) rolled off the front and no one chased. After he got a good gap, I attacked and bridged to him solo - thankfully dragging no one with me. We caught Keith Kelly and worked with him, trying to gain on the group behind us. I was so burnt at this point that it came my turn to pull through and I literally couldn't get around Keith to take the lead...this was the defining moment that came about 5 miles too soon: the entirety of the climb would be survival for me, rather than the last 1000 meters where it gets ugly.

Rolling into the climb with a 20 second gap, I knew it was only a matter of time until we were swept back into the break. What I didn't know - is how freaking quickly it would happen. Dereck Treadwell took to the front with the purpose of a man who wanted to win this race for the second year in a row. He was also fresher than the rest because Keith (his teammate) was up the road the ENTIRE day, so he was able to relax and not work in the breakaway. (Actually, he did take a few pulls to keep the break's pace high enough to fend off chasers but not high enough to reel in his teammate. Sadly there was no way to do both of these with the Hot Tubes squad and their impressive chase...overall Dereck ended up doing the smart thing). As the group came through, I did my best to accelerate up to their pace, but just couldn't do it! It was now simply a matter of suffering and not letting the stragglers get away. The race was already blown apart 500m into the climb. I knew a top 5 was long gone and the chance of a top 10 was disintegrating fast. Finally, one last guy came by with about 1K to go in the first section of climbing. Without actually speaking, we agreed to pace the climb then work together on the ensuing flats/downhills to save ourselves from losing as much time as possible...we were both struggling, wanting to recover before the final kick of the climb. He started to cramp right when the road went upward and I knew that pushing on alone was the only way to reduce my losses. There was a MetLife guy up the road and I hyperfocused on him. He had 200m on me with 1K to go. I came into the final climb and told myself that I could not go into a gear smaller than my 39x24 until I caught him. This actually worked until I was about 50m back when I could no longer turn the gear. I shifted and just worked to bring down the gap. Finally, with just under 500m left I came past him and made sure to not hesitate for an instant. Tomorrow was the TT and I was absolutely shelled (along with everyone else), but needed every last second of time gap on those behind me. I ended up finishing 14 seconds ahead of the MetLife guy (Landen Wark-Acebo) and in 11th place. Ugh. All that and I barely missed the top 10! Nevertheless, I was now in 11th GC - easily in the upgrade points, which was something I wanted to be in for this weekend. Top 10 or 5 was really what I desired...so it was all up to the TT.

The TT rig, known as Rabbit. So far it has lived to the name of going out too hard and dying...
Thanks to my Coach, Kurt, for setting me up with some laaagit wheelz!!

TT: 11miles, insane winds (head/cross), and actually nice weather! I was hoping for a big day today, as I was only 22 seconds from the top 10 and 24 seconds from 9th place. Warming up, I knew it was going to be tough, but I focused on the task at hand. Landen (the guy who was only 14 seconds behind me in GC) missed his TT start by about 15 seconds...which meant that my buffer from 12th place was now about 30 seconds, which helped settled my mind a bit. I went out on the TT with the effort I expected to hold for 25 minutes. I felt labored (as expected) but strong, considering. I caught Landen within 2 miles and worked to keep the effort steady and drop him as I forged on, now with my focus 100% on gaining time on those who were behind me (higher placed riders start later - so they have the advantage of seeing the competition who are placed lower down). Whatever momentum I had going was completely gone. I had no gas left and felt like I was running on fumes...it was only 3 miles into the 11 mile race! Landen passed me, and we would yo-yo within 5 seconds for the entire rest of the race. Not a good sign for me gaining a place in GC, but at least it meant my nearest competitor would not overtake me.

I was passed by Jonathan Brown (the guy in 10th place) at the halfway point, which sealed the deal on me beating him. I tried to use Jon as a motivation to keep pushing on, but there was nothing to give...my heart rate couldn't even get above 170bpm - I usually can hold a 180 HR for over half an hour! I focused on getting through the race as quickly as possible...but the "# kilometers to go" signs seemed to go by even more slowly. The last little rise on the main road nearly brought Landen and I to a standstill. Ouch. We were both about as ugly as we were the day before. The last 2K is mostly downhill, so I absolutely gunned it around the turn to get up to speed. I pushed through the finish and felt like I was done for with 500m to go. My effort was exactly as hard as I wanted to go, but my performance was rather poor. I finished in 26:53 and 27th place. Brad Warren, the guy who started 24 seconds ahead of me finished 11 seconds faster, so I did not gain a GC place. I actually lost a place overall and slipped to 12th place GC.

As crappy as the performance was, I went as hard as I could have and only lost 1 place. The highlight of my day was my teammate Andrew, who absolutely crushed the 11 miles course...riding but 5 seconds slower than the Cat 2 winner. He got a decisive 2nd place finish on the day! It would have even been good for 2nd place in the Pro/1 Race. It was a phenomenal race and effort, especially after he was in the break with me all day. He also chased on early in the road race from that double-flat...and chased on again because he flatted once more before the second climb. Chapeau to Andrew for the awesome performance...and the only photo in this report, because none have been posted yet.

Andrew, a mere 5 seconds from THE Keith Kelly. Everyone else was so far back they kept the podium to 2 people.
(Okay, fine, 3rd place didn't show up)

Andrew's effort gained him a massive 8 places and put him into 13th GC, right behind me in 12th. It was a good weekend just to sack up and race hard, it was better that we were both able to make the break on Sunday and finish in the points for GC.