Thursday, April 30, 2009

Fest for Friday

4 hours today with 4000 feet of climbing. Turned around above Divide at about 10,000 feet. Daaaamn. That hurt. Howling headwind the whole way down turned the usually fun descent into a demoralizing near-bonk march. The whole way up I thought about this video:

Rotterdam Six-Day. Got an invite to go this year from a Dutch sprinter (third down the WWF super-star stairs), so looks like I need to get in the shape of my life. Qualifying for London 2012 is only two track seasons away. Crunch time is now.

The parental units breezed into town for a few days of food, fun and Colorado-ing. It was great to see them and even greater to show them that the Springs is really becoming home for us. Between our incredible apartment, a great group of friends and plenty of great stuff to do, it's getting harder and harder to think about moving back to Portland. The resources I have here as a cyclist and the opportunities Jenny has at her work are impossible to turn away from. Tomorrow she flies out to New York for a week long buying trip, and today my coach took time off work to dive a follow moto up the mountain for me. How sweet is that? Them? Those?

Parents have moved on to DC for a killer Politi-venture. My mom's sure to post a billion awesome pictures. You will love it so much it's retarded.

First week on the track starts monday! Then it's back to two more weeks of road torture! Whoa!


Sunday, April 19, 2009


This is a long one, but things start getting heavy about 3:30 in. Theo Bos vs. Daryl Impey

Yeah. I know. Not cool.

You know what is cool? A professional cyclist riding from portland to vantucky with a bucket of donuts.


Wednesday, April 15, 2009

it's story time!

Lifting at the Olympic Training Center is a strange thing. One one hand, you miss the pageantry of the public gym. The steroidal gym rats who waddle in to do 2 reps with massive weight for bicep curls, the ultra-flamboyant gays throwing dance moves on the treadmill, the cougars trawling for gym rats, etc. On the other hand, all that is replaced by a different kind of entertainment.

For instance.

A few Wednesdays ago: One of our Strength & Conditioning interns happens to be a competitive eater. You know the guys you see on ESPN2 scarfing hot dogs and ultimately getting beat by a pre-adolescent Japanese kid? He does that. So one day my coach bets this intern that he can not eat 3 whole Habanero peppers (seeds, stem and all) in 20 minutes without throwing up. No money is bet, no personal property, just "I bet you can't."
He takes the bet.
Several hours later, he is standing in the center of the gym in front of an improvised table (plyo box with a white towel on top), staring at a pile of Habaneros, a few cyclists, a puke bucket and a lot of cameras. To his credit, the intern finishes every last pepper in 7 minutes. Tears streaming down his face, buckled over the "table," trying to block out the uncontrolled laughter of everyone in the room. I laughed so hard at his misfortune and pain that my stomach hurt for days. His eyes weren't just watering, he was crying. Bawling, almost.
About an hour later, my coach finds him passed out in the corner of the gym. After rousing him, the intern says he feels like he "just drank a gallon of vodka mixed with gasoline," and has never felt so drunk in his life. He has to be driven home, where he retires to the toilet with a bottle of Tums. Later he says that the next 2 days are the worst of his entire life.

Today: I'm doing a workout with a cyclist who will remain anonymous. For the purpose of our story I will call him "Aaron Kacala." Aaron is a genetic freak who progresses faster than any human I have ever seen in the weight room. Today he is up to 180 kilos for 3 sets of 5 in the squat rack. He warms up, starts adding weight, and is finally ready to go. I stand back and watch with my coach as Aaron clears one rep by the skin of his teeth and drops the second rep. Aaron does not fail very often. In fact, this is the first time I've seen him miss a rep.
My coach asks politely, "how much weight did you do last week?"
The answer: 177.5 kilos. This would seem about right. Normal progression at this weight is 2.5-5 kilos per week.
My coach's next question, "Then why are you trying to squat 200 kilos?"
Aaron's face twists, he looks at the bar. Sure enough. 200k on the bar.
"Because that's not even close."
We laugh.
We are bike racers, not mathematicians.

Later, during that same workout: A female wrestler is convinced that if you do a handstand for 30 seconds before you get on a scale, you will weigh less. Supposedly, she has tried this successfully at a meet. I'm going through this in my head, trying to work out the impossible physics of decreasing mass via handstands when our habanero-chomping intern bolts up on his hands next to the scale. Gets on the scale. Sure enough, he weighs the same. The wrestler is baffled. We are very quietly losing our minds with "are you serious?" laughter. They try 3 more times before conceding that this theory must be total B.S.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

it's like a caption contest for reading lips

This has always bothered me.

Watch this video.

What the does he say?

"the bucket of donuts is gone."

"all the beer in the world has evaporated."

"if you don't lay down your head will blow up."


In other news, there's a new link just over to your right. Rolf Prima is the official wheel supplier to Land Rover-Orbea this year. The world's best wheels, made in Euguene, Oregon.

Saturday, April 04, 2009

So what have I been up to these last few weeks you ask? Well.
We've been getting up to Boulder to ride the indoor whoopdeedoo they have there whenever finances and time allow.
Allegedly one of the two guys who built the indoor track in Boulder is moving to Portland to repeat the task.
This track is... fun. I guess. It's fun for time trials because the transitions are so incredibly dangerous at sprint speed that it's a challenge just to stay on the track at a decent clip. The banking is not nearly steep enough to accommodate the hellaciously tight corners, so it's an exercise in staying loose and fluid, not having too much weight on the front end and not freaking out too much about the fact that your rear wheel isn't on the track anymore. It's not much fun in that racing head to head with someone is taking your life in your hands. The track throws you around so much that I won't even sprint with Kacala, and there are few people I trust as much as that guy (maybe Abers, but that's about it).

Criticism aside, it is fun. And it's better than riding in the snow.

St. Paddy's Day has come and gone, the IRA flared up and got dangerous again, and we drank way too many of these.

It was a good night, epic in every way. Walked right past the 2 block line out front of the Jack Quinns Irish Pub and was ushered in through the back door by the bar manager. It's good to be a local sometimes. Things only went downhill from there.

On the healthier side of things, the mountain is less treacherous this time of year, so Jenny and I are getting back into a little of this:

That's the Springs behind us. Picture is at 9,000 feet or so.

Shine on forever, benevolent sun.

Black Flag on the headphones, sun on the skin and plenty of miles to go before the season begins in earnest.
Training in Colorado does not suck that much.

Some people wanted to see the Brett.J sugar skull I had done last fall.

It is Jerolimous. I think so anyway.

Remember how I said I didn't think Sireau would survive track World's after decking Sir Hoy?

So sure, he was ultimately done in by his teammate instead of a vengeful Brit, but semi poetic-justice nonetheless. AND. How about that save by Bauge! WTF?! Sideways on a tubular at 220psi? And he pulls it out? Rad-tarded.

Thursday, April 02, 2009

Wednesday, April 01, 2009