Waaaah

Sadly, I don't think today's cyclocross race reached a critical measure: namely, would I have enjoyed my day more if I had just sat in a chair. This was recently made into a higher standard since I got a better chair, but still...

As far as rest/hydration/nutrition goes, it was fine. I got there early, scouted the course for a few laps, knew there were difficult bits...and more difficult bits...OK, it was not the course I might've hoped for, or that the race director would've hoped for, but you usually just have to be glad that there's a venue at all and make do. Racing for the first time last weekend, riding on the rough stuff wigged me out at first, but eventually I figured out how to go. Pain was in legs and lungs. On today's course, you could smell approaching flesh wounds.


Out the start, I got blown away by all the guys who are happier to play bump 'n' grind for the hole shot, so was probably in the 2nd half of the field by the time I got to the first full lap. Going 'round the fields, I recognized the jersey and bike of a rider who had boggled in front of me last week resulting in my own crash...and I didn't quite get past him. We got to the off-camber nastiness, he boggled, I crashed. I remounted, couldn't get bike to go, crashed again and clusterfucked the group behind me. I recognized a guy in that group too, having heard his favorite epithet ("Fuck, dude!") last week, also in the context of the guy who boggled in front of me. The other riders got around me, I tried to get my wits back, and rolled on...

About 50 feet later, in the middle of nothing, the front wheel locked up and I was lucky to run over the handlebars and not endo onto my face. In the middle of nothing. Walked back to the bike and discovered that in the middle of my little induced crashing escapade, I had picked up a rather large stick which had found its way into my front spokes--ergo, front wheel lock up. Stick removed, I could continue.

At this point, I was (a) out of sight of the entire field and (b) not having fun anymore. The chair was ahead by miles.


There was no need to try and no need to risk further injury to myself or my equipment. I soft-pedalled on. I seriously considered just pulling over at the finish line and handing in my number. But, I had paid my $35 and was in goofy bike clothes, so I soft-pedalled some more. By the end, I had figured out lines--sort of--on the goofy rocky off-camber things. I got lapped by the race leader only in the last lap (and he was ahead by a long shot), and when he came around I could sorta keep up with him, at least enough to know that I wouldn't have got lapped if I was in any mood to go hard earlier. Russell the Red Lantern was first to shake the winner's hand when I crossed the line right after him.

Then things got stupid again. My rear tire had developed a slow leak in the last quarter-lap. After crossing the finish line, I kept going on-course to pick up my water bottle from the start line. Anyone who did the race today knows that right after the finish line was the nastiest rockiest off-camber slope of them all, and I tried getting up it on a near-flat tire. Afterwards, I had fresh scrapes, my chain had escaped irrecoverably underneath my chain watcher, the tire was flat, and as I picked up the bike to carry it away, noticed that some funny steering sensations I had during the race probably came from my headset being almost completely frozen.


Now I only wanted to go home.

The drive home--still dirty, bloody, now hungry, cranky, with a bike non-functional at both ends--just wasn't happy.

This better be an isolated incident, 'cuz it's not worth it to spend so much time (75 miles drive each way) or money ($35 reg, $20 gas, $45 new headset) to not be entertained.

Yeah, this is a long whine.

Daily highlight: good to see pabcid and xbunny and migo, live 'n' kickin'.

Double 'cross

Race reportage from CCCX #1, Manzanita Park:

Fun course. Not rolling, but half-up and half-down, with more technical bits going down. Wide in most places, so it avoided the single-track sheep-in-a-line phenomenon.

I joined the B men for the first time, starting at 10am (a nice respite from 8.30am-9am in the C's last year). I was 2nd row, and within a few seconds of the start saw at least a dozen riders shoot off the front never to be seen again. I and others chugged away for lesser places in the back. Barriers went surprisingly smooth given the awkwardness of dismounts in practice. No major mechanicals, just a dropped chain that eventually jigged back on. No major biffs, 'cept running into two others tangled up on the whoop-te-doos at the top--that left me with a good scratch on my forearm. The dirt U-turn at the bottom confused me since dismounting left was downhill, so I ended up dismounting right every time--worked a couple times, but as I tired I never found an elegant way through. After 7 laps, I ended up about 15th out of 25, not bad and what I deserved, I think.

The question was then whther or not I should also ride the single speed A's at 1.15pm. I waffled...thought no at first...but got the bike together for a practice lap and it wasn't so bad. Morgan F. pushed me over the edge, along with the discovery that there was a discount on a second registration...

After trying to stay fed and hydrated and not sunburnt between races, we finally were off, 30 seconds behind the Men's A field. Again, I saw half the field go zooming off, never to be seen again--in the B's, I wasn't warm, and for the SS race, I think I was on my way down...It was still fun, though I didn't have the power to overtake any other racers; I could try to keep from being overtaken a couple times, but eventually lost out. Still, bouncing around on the trails was good, and I was using my brakes less and less and pedalling more and more (SS racing is probably good for that). One more biff when in the aforementioned dirt U-turn my foot hit the guy behind me while I was trying to dismount--he finished his pass on the run-up-and-out. 8 laps later, my back was screaming at me, I got lapped by part of the A field (though I'm fine with that: the first three to pass, Robinson, Snead, and Wyatt, are of course national-caliber).

Conclusion: I've got work to do if I'm going to be powerful and fit enough to give anyone a run for their money. And doing two races is probably not a bad way to get there.

Stopping at the corner grocery on the way home, that half-liter of chocolate milk tasted so good...They can keep their post-race beers.

Since getting home, I've been responsible all afternoon, and now I want to veg in my easy chair and watch Ken Burns' documentary on PBS for the evening. G'night, good luck, and I'm looking forward to seeing Morgan and Lauren's photos of the whole thing...

Freaky Flickr-viewers and the Fajitas From Mars

With a full-time internet connection in hand, I decided to revive my Flickr account and get some pictures online for friends, families, and complete strangers. Some from my road trip in July, some from Thailand last December, some stretching back to 2003...I'm not an artist, just snaps. And I picked up the little Flickr sidebar widget from Lauren's website.

Photos are still being uploaded, organized, labelled, etc. but some viewers have already come by--I don't know who. Since Flickr counts views, though, you can tell which photos people are coming to look at. So, with photos of mountains and waterfalls and the mighty rivers of British Columbia and exotic Oriental locations and the like, which photo has the most views? My caption:

"9am on a Sunday morning and there's a family splashing in the pool--dad was wearing a Speedo and a 10-gallon hat."


Now the wider world knows what the courtyard of the Super 8 in Wells, NV, looks like. Apparently it's in demand.

Out of mercy to myself, I did not take a photo with sufficient resolution and zoom to reveal the dad in all his glory, but the Flickr-passersby must be squinting to catch a sight of him...heaven knows there have been enough Speedos in the local blogs lately...

----

In a long overdue discussion of food, cooked up some fajitas for dinner this evening. All was well until I pulled out the wraps..."Spinach Garden Herb" seemed fine at the time (and was on sale), but little green bundles on the plate just looked a little extraplanetary.

I switched my eyes to black-and-white and all was fine. Yum.

Fine, I'll wash the dishes now instead of net-dawdling...

Humbility for the aspiring cyclocrossist

Went for a ride this morning to practice cyclocross dismounts and remounts. The first two attempts at dismounts left me sitting on my ass on the ground. Not good.

Things improved, though my remounts are too stuttettery, and they may be that way for a long time until I overcome, uh, nard fear.

On the way home, things were goin' good, and I started playing around with hopping over little things. Gee, fun!--POP. So much for that tube, and like a dumbass I didn't have a spare or patch or pump, and thereby earned a 2-mile Walk of Shame. Oh well, got some shouldering practice.

A lot of people on bikes passed me, but I was nearly home before one of them (roadie in kit) asked if I could use a hand. I probably would've said I was okay but thanks anyway (as I did to Roadie), but there was nary even an offer. Not feelin' the bike community love today.

Feel the heat

I've got a hot body.

No, really: I tend to feel warm most of the time. Some of us (and usually those of us holding a Y gene) are so blessed. Blessed, that is, until it is time to go to bed.

At some point, I was trained to feel comfortable in bed when the blankets on top of me were essentially heavy enough to prevent me from moving. Blankets that heavy also tend to be very warm, which for those of us with high internal body temps, leads to rather humid in-bed conditions. So the usual choice is heavy sheets and sweaty versus light sheets and not sleepy.

This evening, it is with some giddiness that I see the temperature in by bedroom has dropped below 70°F before bedtime, for the first time in many weeks. Within a month, it may be below 60...sweet cool relief.

Oo, wait: courtesy of the internet, maybe I should get one of these before next summer...

Slow for sale

Despite the sentimental value, the new apartment is small, and Slow is gonna go elsewhere. Anyone interested? Check the ad on craiglist (tips on advertising a bike like this on craigslist appreciated).

Loopiness

Argh. Despite convincing myself I had the best of intentions, I failed to ride my bike to work once this week. Had a good, hard ride on Labor Day, including riding up nasty old Hicks Rd, but failed to build on it.

In an attempt to get back in the saddle, and as a break from researching my potential career in laundry, I went noodling up the LG creek trail this morning on what I guess will be my bread-and-butter cyclocross training loop.

Some up, some down; some attempts at mounting and remounting, and as a result my first mild CX scrape of the season. Like most CX scrapes, I'm left wondering how I twisted and flexed in order to make bike/skin contact in that particular location.

It did earn me the luxury of whether time is now better spent showering or watching US Open tennis...

Unleashed

Over the last weekend of August, I moved into a studio apartment across the way in Los Gatos. No more sharing of house with two other people, time to have my own space to do with as I please (within the limits of being a tenant).

This is now the 10th street address I've had in California in just under 9 years, not counting two periods spent sleeping on people's couches for which I did not formally change my address. Yes, I feel like a transient, and/or like I've got some as-yet-unnamed pyschological twitch, possibly induced by living in the same house from the beginnings of consciousness until I was 18 years old.

The title of this post refers to the viciousness with which I have wielded my poor, unsuspecting credit card for the past week and a half as I try to turn this place into my home. Some shelves, ironing board, stand for the rediscovered TV, doohickey that allows me to watch DVDs on said old TV, internet connection, rug to protect new carpet from bikes. Hmm, bikes: new suspension seatpost for Slow (!--sweet ride), 'cross tires, freewheel remover and freewheel, chainring...Let's not forget filling all those empty cupboards in the kitchen, and a decent-sized stockpot...

A little swipe of the plastic and it's mine, so easy, so easy. Now I shouldn't be too concerned, as I'm not actually that extravagant, but it's a heck of a lot more spending that I've done in a long time and it would be nice for it to - just - slow - down - a - little...

...and contemplate that I may be moving again at the end of December. (11!)