Just yesterday, the Winfield/Wheaton/Glen Ellyn area experienced its first 80 degree day of the year. I.e. bike racing weather. Sunburn weather. I-need-to-remember -to-drink weather. While this may seem unremarkable to some, I find it to be piss poor. For shame, climatologists, I thought we were experiencing an upswing in global average temperatures? (Yes, I realize I'm ignoring the fact that a rolling average can include some lower-than-average points yet still be indicative of an upward trend)
In all seriousness, though, I want to start racing my bike. I want to start sleeping in economy chain hotels, I want to eat McDonalds entirely too often, and I want to go 30mph for long stretches of time. I want to grind up mountains, bomb back down them, and see the destruction behind me.
I'm particularly enthused about the prospects of XC and marathon XC MTB racing. Forcing myself to produce high amounts of power for long periods of time can do nothing but help me become a more well rounded cyclist. I know of very few races that are determined purely by your 20min w/kg average, so I'd best adapt to the rigors of longer, harder races. What better way than what essentially becomes a 2-6hr TT? I'm looking forward to the challenge.
I'm also looking forward to riding/racing with some old friends, and making some new ones along the way. Among the dudes who taught me how to ride, mainly John Meyers, Adam and Dave Stone, and even Jamie Kimberley. My mom successfully stalked/tracked Jamie down (without my knowledge) and informed him that we'll be out in his new 'hood come September for my cousin's wedding. I'll probably just be peaking at that point (terrible at timing these things) so I'll be looking to beat down some East Coast kids and drag the old man along. I'm hoping that Le Stone will be bored enough with his internship to start riding his bike to entertain himself. I'm guessing that Le Elder Stone and TSK will put a major hurt on their respective fields this year, if early season results are any indicator.
In terms of meeting new people...well, I'm hoping I won't meet any more idiots in cars. I'm down with meeting hot girls in cars, or on bikes, or in general, provided none of them try to run me off the road. I've come to the realization that since leaving college, I have quite literally met no one new that I'd hang out with or go out with. Maybe college was too easy in that regard. Maybe meeting people through classes or out at the bars eroded what little social ability I possessed in high school. Sad, but true.
So, hopefully this bike racing thing will provide some interesting diversions, and perhaps, solutions, to the various "problems" I have. Quoted, to indicate that they aren't really problems. Just dilemmas.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Bikes, cars, and the idiots who pilot each.
First and foremost, I'd like to apologize to Paul. Paul Zelewsky was hit on Jewell Road about two weeks ago, while riding solo.
Tonight, he was hit while riding with me. Not knocked over, but clipped in a noticeable manner. Now, why would I apologize for something like this? Because my actions prevented him from giving two idiots what they rightly deserved: a visit from the DuPage County Sheriff and Wheaton P.D.
Paul and I were coming back from the group ride that meets up at Bartlett High School. We had just crossed Winfield Road, right next to CDH (Central DuPage Hospital) when a horn behind us started blaring, and someone started yelling out of a window. They then proceeded to buzz us, a bit too close for comfort. Paul and I answered this with the usual "Fuck yourself!". Usually some punk teenagers will laugh this off and keep driving.
Well, the two people in the white minivan apparently took offense to this, and did not see this as an eye for an eye sort of thing. Apparently my language in exchange for their driving was not a fair trade. The driver locked up the brakes, and started yelling. Paul and I yelled right back. We then passed him, and he accelerated right into Paul's path, clipping Paul's front wheel.
Most who know me know that I'm a pretty calm, laid back individual. A little animated at times, but nothing too over the top. Well, I lost it. Death threats, curses, and descriptions of sexual preferences I'm ashamed to have used in a derogatory manner flew out of my mouth like snot has been out of my nose for the last two weeks.
At the light at County Farm and Jewell, I demanded that they get out of the car. Normally I'm pretty rational and logical. They could very well have had a gun, knife, or tire iron in that minivan. None of this crossed my mind, sadly. I just wanted to teach some bastard a lesson. Primarily, that even though I'm dressed in lycra and riding a bike, that doesn't mean that you can ASSAULT someone and expect to get away with it. Particularly if you do it intentionally, with a deadly weapon.
Well, they denied my request. They did, however, stop about 200m down the road on Jewell, just east of County Farm Road. I proceeded to get off my bike, set it down in the grass on the side of the road, and scream/explain the rules of the road to these idiots. The driver, the more aggressive of the two, said that we didn't have any right to do what we were doing. I less-than-calmly explained that yes, we did in fact have the right to ride two abreast, and that he should have passed us like he would another slow moving vehicle. Would he do the same thing to a grandmother in her car going 25mph? Would he do the same thing to two grandmothers riding Schwinns carrying puppies on bar mounted baskets? No and no.
And now, for the bad part. Well, kind of bad. They left. Unfortunately, because of the death threats that I lobbed their way during my temporary bout of instability, both Paul and I didn't think that it would be wise to call the police and/or Sheriff. The worst part about it, though, is that there are now two idiots, if not more (idiots can get married, and reproduce) who now have a less than positive opinion of cyclists.
I hope that I don't put anyone in harm's way because of my actions. Really.
Tonight, he was hit while riding with me. Not knocked over, but clipped in a noticeable manner. Now, why would I apologize for something like this? Because my actions prevented him from giving two idiots what they rightly deserved: a visit from the DuPage County Sheriff and Wheaton P.D.
Paul and I were coming back from the group ride that meets up at Bartlett High School. We had just crossed Winfield Road, right next to CDH (Central DuPage Hospital) when a horn behind us started blaring, and someone started yelling out of a window. They then proceeded to buzz us, a bit too close for comfort. Paul and I answered this with the usual "Fuck yourself!". Usually some punk teenagers will laugh this off and keep driving.
Well, the two people in the white minivan apparently took offense to this, and did not see this as an eye for an eye sort of thing. Apparently my language in exchange for their driving was not a fair trade. The driver locked up the brakes, and started yelling. Paul and I yelled right back. We then passed him, and he accelerated right into Paul's path, clipping Paul's front wheel.
Most who know me know that I'm a pretty calm, laid back individual. A little animated at times, but nothing too over the top. Well, I lost it. Death threats, curses, and descriptions of sexual preferences I'm ashamed to have used in a derogatory manner flew out of my mouth like snot has been out of my nose for the last two weeks.
At the light at County Farm and Jewell, I demanded that they get out of the car. Normally I'm pretty rational and logical. They could very well have had a gun, knife, or tire iron in that minivan. None of this crossed my mind, sadly. I just wanted to teach some bastard a lesson. Primarily, that even though I'm dressed in lycra and riding a bike, that doesn't mean that you can ASSAULT someone and expect to get away with it. Particularly if you do it intentionally, with a deadly weapon.
Well, they denied my request. They did, however, stop about 200m down the road on Jewell, just east of County Farm Road. I proceeded to get off my bike, set it down in the grass on the side of the road, and scream/explain the rules of the road to these idiots. The driver, the more aggressive of the two, said that we didn't have any right to do what we were doing. I less-than-calmly explained that yes, we did in fact have the right to ride two abreast, and that he should have passed us like he would another slow moving vehicle. Would he do the same thing to a grandmother in her car going 25mph? Would he do the same thing to two grandmothers riding Schwinns carrying puppies on bar mounted baskets? No and no.
And now, for the bad part. Well, kind of bad. They left. Unfortunately, because of the death threats that I lobbed their way during my temporary bout of instability, both Paul and I didn't think that it would be wise to call the police and/or Sheriff. The worst part about it, though, is that there are now two idiots, if not more (idiots can get married, and reproduce) who now have a less than positive opinion of cyclists.
I hope that I don't put anyone in harm's way because of my actions. Really.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Something wicked this way comes...
After discussing this sort of thing to death on various internet sites/forums, and hearing from one Andrew Coggan on the matter, I've determined that I'm going to head out to them thar hills of eastern Tennessee and western North Carolina over the Memorial Day weekend, if allowed.
Hopefully, Uncle Sam and the Evil Empire, in the form of the IRS/George Bush and my insurance agency, respectively, will collaborate enough to send me the money to purchase my new mountain bike before I depart on this journey.
The goal of the trip is to get the hell out of town for 4 or 5 days, and see a part of the world that fascinates and scares me. The Blue Ridge and Great Smoky Mountains being the former, local denizens of said hills, a la "Deliverance", being the latter. The other goal is to ride my road bike for about 20min, in a vigorous manner, up one of said mountains, recording such metrics as power and cadence whilst going skywards. I have an idea of what sort of number I'd like to see with an "avg." next to it, but, at the time being, I'd rather not advertise that. I don't post graphs, I'm not throwing out daily workouts. If I could ride my bike hard, for an hour a week, and cruise the other 10-20, I'd do that in a heartbeat.
After cooling down from the effort, which will basically be the <10min descent, I plan on locking my road bike inside my car, hopping on the MTB, and getting lost on the trails for hours at a time. Learning how to ride my new bike, in a fast and efficient manner, in terrain that will demand this of me.
Upon re-reading this post for correctness, it's ironic that, for the first time in my life, the only things keeping me from actually doing this are beyond my control. I have a car, I have money for gas and food. I'm just waiting on the Gov and the EE to get their shit together, and throw me a bone. Or bones, in the financial way.
Hopefully, Uncle Sam and the Evil Empire, in the form of the IRS/George Bush and my insurance agency, respectively, will collaborate enough to send me the money to purchase my new mountain bike before I depart on this journey.
The goal of the trip is to get the hell out of town for 4 or 5 days, and see a part of the world that fascinates and scares me. The Blue Ridge and Great Smoky Mountains being the former, local denizens of said hills, a la "Deliverance", being the latter. The other goal is to ride my road bike for about 20min, in a vigorous manner, up one of said mountains, recording such metrics as power and cadence whilst going skywards. I have an idea of what sort of number I'd like to see with an "avg." next to it, but, at the time being, I'd rather not advertise that. I don't post graphs, I'm not throwing out daily workouts. If I could ride my bike hard, for an hour a week, and cruise the other 10-20, I'd do that in a heartbeat.
After cooling down from the effort, which will basically be the <10min descent, I plan on locking my road bike inside my car, hopping on the MTB, and getting lost on the trails for hours at a time. Learning how to ride my new bike, in a fast and efficient manner, in terrain that will demand this of me.
Upon re-reading this post for correctness, it's ironic that, for the first time in my life, the only things keeping me from actually doing this are beyond my control. I have a car, I have money for gas and food. I'm just waiting on the Gov and the EE to get their shit together, and throw me a bone. Or bones, in the financial way.
Monday, April 21, 2008
GDVC Numero Dos
Toed the line for the second time this season.
Went alright. Learned some lessons, gained some fitness, did some decent work towards the end of the race.
Basic synopsis:
Race starts. Attack, chase, attack, chase. Repeat for 10ish minutes. Real break goes off, I miss it. More dudes go, I miss them. The two White brothers are in, so, I'm not exactly looking to drag more people up to the break, which is already large.
However, opportunities will present themselves, and you have to go with it. Get off the front with two. Roll with them for two laps. Take off on my own for 2.5 or 3. Make it up to the back end of the break as they're heading up the hill.
And then, a Baraboo Sharks junior, who I'm sure is not a Cat1/2, pops off the back. Right in front of me. At first I don't even notice, and then, suddenly, there's a 20m gap. At first, I can't even react. I mean, I'm so far into the red that I can't go above LT to save my life.
So I crawl over the hill, bomb down the back side spinning out my legs, and try to latch back on. I get within 20m of the tail end when I run out of steam.
Now, in the past, I have always said "Well why didn't you sprint to catch onto the back end of the group?" when I hear someone complain about not making it all the way up to a break, or latch back on to the main field. Well, I learned my lesson. I tried. I tried real hard. I don't think I could sprint at that point. I apologize to anyone I've said this to before; I now feel your pain.
The rest of the race was basically me being dragged around by Great Dane, who were monitoring the front of the field, waiting for Frankie Dierking to lap the field with the break. When they did catch us, Frankie tried to get off the front again, and a White brother cracked the whip behind me. 30+ seconds of chasing hell, from the S/F to the top of the climb. Job done, I returned to my place as the Grim Reaper at the back of the severely depleted field.
A White brother won, the other got 3rd. I finished somewhere in the 20s out of 40ish starters.
Went alright. Learned some lessons, gained some fitness, did some decent work towards the end of the race.
Basic synopsis:
Race starts. Attack, chase, attack, chase. Repeat for 10ish minutes. Real break goes off, I miss it. More dudes go, I miss them. The two White brothers are in, so, I'm not exactly looking to drag more people up to the break, which is already large.
However, opportunities will present themselves, and you have to go with it. Get off the front with two. Roll with them for two laps. Take off on my own for 2.5 or 3. Make it up to the back end of the break as they're heading up the hill.
And then, a Baraboo Sharks junior, who I'm sure is not a Cat1/2, pops off the back. Right in front of me. At first I don't even notice, and then, suddenly, there's a 20m gap. At first, I can't even react. I mean, I'm so far into the red that I can't go above LT to save my life.
So I crawl over the hill, bomb down the back side spinning out my legs, and try to latch back on. I get within 20m of the tail end when I run out of steam.
Now, in the past, I have always said "Well why didn't you sprint to catch onto the back end of the group?" when I hear someone complain about not making it all the way up to a break, or latch back on to the main field. Well, I learned my lesson. I tried. I tried real hard. I don't think I could sprint at that point. I apologize to anyone I've said this to before; I now feel your pain.
The rest of the race was basically me being dragged around by Great Dane, who were monitoring the front of the field, waiting for Frankie Dierking to lap the field with the break. When they did catch us, Frankie tried to get off the front again, and a White brother cracked the whip behind me. 30+ seconds of chasing hell, from the S/F to the top of the climb. Job done, I returned to my place as the Grim Reaper at the back of the severely depleted field.
A White brother won, the other got 3rd. I finished somewhere in the 20s out of 40ish starters.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
The worst glue job of all time. Period.
I'm not going to take any pictures of the new wheels with tires mounted. To be perfectly honest, from a purely aesthetic standpoint, I'd recieve an F. Functionality? An A or a B. I glued the shit out of those tires. They're on there, but I think I'll be finding tiny, random bits of glue on my rims for the next year, and picking glue off the sidewalls of my tires in my downtime for the entire season.
Oh, and I almost certainly gave myself cancer today. Breathing in that amount of toluene, xylene and God knows what else is a damn near sure-fire way to give yourself some interesting cell mutations and/or runaway cell growth.
Race tomorrow, report Sunday night or Monday night.
P.s. On the non-cycling front, I'm doing some interesting things at work lately. I'm doing a couple of different analyses to determine where and when chloride started poking its ugly little head into the groundwater near the Wayne County Landfill. Doing some FOIA file review, converting the data I find in the FOIA files to Excel, uploading those into the database, querying data from that, and maybe modeling chloride concentrations in the area over time using Surfer/AutoCAD.
Oh, and I almost certainly gave myself cancer today. Breathing in that amount of toluene, xylene and God knows what else is a damn near sure-fire way to give yourself some interesting cell mutations and/or runaway cell growth.
Race tomorrow, report Sunday night or Monday night.
P.s. On the non-cycling front, I'm doing some interesting things at work lately. I'm doing a couple of different analyses to determine where and when chloride started poking its ugly little head into the groundwater near the Wayne County Landfill. Doing some FOIA file review, converting the data I find in the FOIA files to Excel, uploading those into the database, querying data from that, and maybe modeling chloride concentrations in the area over time using Surfer/AutoCAD.
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