Bump N' Grind...and Cuss

I know now why it's been over 13 years since I last raced a mountain bike.

The Bump N' Grind is the largest mountain bike race in the southeast. I felt a little nauseaus driving to the race site and seeing just a mob of racers.

I just didn't have the time or confidence to ride my old bike. My fork was shot and the hodge podge of parts I was going to use just didn't work well together, so I borrowed a Litespeed from the Fizik rep. I spent my warm up increasing the height of the saddle until I felt comfortable, then went to stand in the ridiculous staging line. I had no idea what kind of competition there would be or where I stood fitness-wise.

I decided I'd start the race like cyclocross race and go out hard and try and defend my position. I got a good start and rode the first mile in 5th. We hit a short road and I knew we were transitioning into the singletrack section where passing would be harder. I dove inside two guys on the transition and rode third for the next couple of miles. My lack of technical skills left me going wide on some corners and bouncing off some trees, but I managed to stay upright....until.

We started catching groups of slower riders that had started ahead of us about 4 miles in. It is hard to get by them on the narrow trails. One guy told me to pass on his left after the next corner. In my eagerness to get by I overlapped his wheel - he went right, I turned left, but my tire was on the right side of his rear sending me hard into the ground. I had a yard sale - shit went everywhere. Water bottle gone, all my stuff to change a flat littered the forest. I got back up losing two positions - my handlebars askew, but no time to straighten them.

I regained composure as we hit a jeep trail that was wider. The riders in front of me seemed to be standing still and I just laid the hammer down. I moved into second and was feeling incredible physically. Then I started to feel it.....a flat. Of course, all my stuff was gone. I cussed a bit and started walking. A few minutes passed and a guy stopped and said he had seen me earlier riding strongly and that I could have all his stuff. Wow. He handed me a tube, two CO2 cartridges, and adapter and some tire levers. I started changing the flat only to realize that his adapter didn't fit his cartridges! I got just enough air to get going for another mile before another flat. I walked about half a mile until I came upon an old dude sitting on the side of the trail. This little encounter could take up an entire post, but the gist is - he had a pump, a tube and after an agonizing 5 minutes I was on my way.

I knew I was long out of contention, but I had to get rid of my anger and I knew that the big two mile climb I had been dreading was coming up. .... I hammered up that fucking climb like I had wings. Every pedal stroke pissed me off more because I'm not a natural climber. I couldn't believe how strong I felt and all I could think about was how I would have finished very well if I didn't have mechanical gremlins. I started counting riders as I passed them just to give myself motivation. I passed 32 riders over the two mile climb. I bombed the next downhill section into the "rock garden" and into Blood Rock.

Blood Rock was more than I had even been lead to believe. Throngs of people screaming as riders approached a ridiculous series of huge rocks in the trail - all while going downhill. Many people advised me to get off and walk this section. I was pissed and rode it - almost to my demise and to the cheers of drunk mountain bike fans. I nose-wheelied off the last drop-off, a sure trip to the ER if I didn't land it. Blood Rock behind me and still feeling good. Then, in one of the smoothest sections of the course......another flat. Day over....

To say I enjoyed the 5 mile walk to the finish would be stupid, but I needed just about that distance to gain my composure. Everybody I had spent the last half hour passing rode by. Men, women, parapalegics, dogs, snails, turtles. I walked across the line alone, covered in mud, a little blood, and dragging my flat tired bike all alone. To add insult to injury, I was officially scored as DNF. Didn't even get credit for my hike and bike.

The only solace I got was that I was just one of tons of people that got flats. The trailside was a myriad of people changing tires as the brutal course took its toll. One guy rode by me on a downhill with no chain. I know one local rider who had three flats as well, but had all the tools to get them all changed. I have a hard time wanting to compete in a sport where mechanical failures have way too much of an influence on the results.

If I had a normal job with weekends off and the money to race I'd have a real dilemma right now. Would I sulk off, justified that I was stupid to ever try it or would I train my ass off and get some redemption on this stupid sport? One day I'm going to grow up and just do things for fun - right now I'm just pissed off.

this week

Working a bike race on Saturday for the bike shop. I'll be the "holder" for the time trial...should be a lot of fun, not. Saturday night I'll head to Alabama for the Bump N' Grind mountain bike race. I'll be helping some of the Sorella cycling girls team, and, if I can get my 15 year old mountain bike together, I'm gonna race. Blue Bicycles has offered me one of their team bikes to race, but I know my history with mountain biking and I'd rather risk my own stuff than destroy one of their bikes!

The news keeps getting worse about friends and crashes. A local rider who I've only met briefly was hit by a car while warming up for a race last weekend and is in intensive care, soon to undergo about 10 hours of facial reconstruction surgery. Just heard yesterday that my good friend Steve was in a racing accident in Chicago this past weekend - broke at least 8 ribs and punctured a lung. I don't know what's going on, but I sure hope it stops soon.

Olivia started the first of her summer camps this week. She'll spend the night with me tonight because I won't see her for a while as she goes to spend next week with her maternal grandmother. She'll be taking tennis lessons while there. I have gone to the courts with her three times in the last week. She's actually picking it up very well. I'll have her out playing with my brother and sister soon - both much better players than me.

When I make my millions I'm gonna hire a guy (or a cute girl) just to follow me around and tell me where my cell phone, wallet and car keys are.

Mortality

13 years or so ago I called my mom. I had about 3 hours of sleep on a Naugahyde couch in an apartment with no air conditioning that I was sharing with about 6 other cyclists. The night before I had crashed hard on the track. I woke up on a backboard, totally unaware of where or who I was. About 6 hours later I was discharged from the hospital in the middle of the night, after spending a few hours with Nurse Ratchet, who informed me that she was tired of stitching up "you crazy cyclists". Here's a tip, bitch: Don't work in the ER of the closest hospital to the most competitive velodrome in the world.

My friends had accompanied me and drove me home. Unfortunately, they were all gone when I woke up back at the apartment. We were all supposed to leave at 6am to head to US Track Nationals. They left, I stayed. I was under strict orders not to drive a car for 10 days as I had suffered a pretty nice concussion along with losing about half the skin on my right side, several cracked ribs, a sprained wrist, a swollen shut left eye, and half of one of my front teeth was missing. When I called my mom she immediately knew something was wrong. All I could tell her was that I hurt all over as I started crying like a five year old that wants her ice cream.

That day, my coach told me I needed to ride my trainer because I had to keep the blood flowing. I rode for ten minutes before I realized I couldn't even balance myself on a stationary bike.

In the past week, three of my friends have been hurt pretty badly in seperate bike accidents. Ryan may never walk again (he had surgery on Friday to try and relieve the paralysis)....Brendan looks like he was beaten by an angry mob, left to bleed a while, then beaten again for good measure... and Amy (who I haven't talked to) apparently has at least one broken bone.

Brendan, you weren't pretty before...and you sure aren't now, bro'

During the first race my mom went to watch me she got to witness a crash in the race before mine, front and center. She immediately turned to me and said she'd pay for a year of car racing if I'd quit bikes then and there.

I've been around car racing my entire life. I know only a handful of people that have been seriously hurt. I don't know a friend of mine that HASN'T been in some sort of bike wreck. I've been in two races where riders died. I have arthritis in my hip from a wreck that will never go away. I like to think I have an incredible pain tolerance, but that really doesn't matter, because for the first time in my life I'm a little scared to ride a bike.

Friday

Happy Birthday, Mom!

No big plans for the weekend. I have to work at the shop both days. Unfortunately, I'm going to miss Olivia's last soccer game of the season and her gymnastics recital. If the motivation to get out of retail wasn't strong already, missing events like this just make me more determined.

Olivia brought up the "damn treehouse" the other day. She reminded me that I said I would build one in Spring. "Well, Daddy, it's spring". She didn't seem too upset when I told her that it probably wouldn't happen this year. I took her for ice cream and she seemed to forget about it.

What a week!

EDIT: Believe it or not, Comcast was able to retrieve my e-mails and all is well. Kudos to them. Now I feel better about the huge amount of dough I pay just to have access to the silly internet!



So, I logged into my e-mail this afternoon....nothing. All of my e-mails are gone - from the inbox to the "sent" files. Comcast has no idea what happened, but they are "looking into it". Somehow I doubt they have a dedicated place for my e-mails in cyberspace besides right where they've always been.



Shit happens in 3's, or so they say. I've had my share this week.

Life is Good

Excuse this emotional post. I'll be sure to follow it up shortly with something funny and politically incorrect.


I was raised to take care of myself. I was provided everything I needed to be successful in life - including parents that instilled a good work ethic, morals, respect, a sense of humor and a positive outlook on life. My brother, my sister, and I knew that my parents would always be there for advice, a helping hand, an open door to visit and unconditional acceptance of our friends and those that we love/loved.

I never expected or wanted to ever ask my parents for financial support, a place to live or to bail me out of mistakes... and, for the most part, I never have. I've made plenty of mistakes, but I've managed to work my way through them. Call them "life lessons", if you will.

My parents jumped to help me twice in the past couple of months when I needed them. It didn't matter that I haven't been the model son the last few years. I've been caught up in my own self-absorbed world. Granted, I've been through a lot, but I tend to internalize things instead of reaching out. I don't communicate much when I'm embarrased or disappointed in the direction my life is going. It's probably just the opposite of what one SHOULD do. You can tell when things are going well in my life - you usually hear from me! When they aren't, I tend to clam up.

I want to be the type of parent that mine are to me. I'm 41 years old and shouldn't need to ask or expect anything, yet they overlook my faults and help me out. I'd love to say that life isn't fair sometimes, but ultimately we are all responsible for where we are and what we've become.

As I said, I've screwed up plenty in my life, but one thing I know is that I'm a pretty good parent to my daughter. I think I'm better than a lot of dads that actually live with their children. I may not have much to give to her, but I hope (and think) that I am "there" for her. She's five years old, but knows that I love her and will always be her dad. Sometimes, I can even see that contentness in her eyes - and that makes me happy.

The Weekend

Spent the weekend with the 'O' Show. I seem to always say it, but she's really growing up too fast. Bear came over for the night and he was in the bushes in the backyard and I couldn't see him. I asked Olivia where he was, and she said "I don't know. Running around in La La Land, I guess." What kind of response is that??

We picked flowers in my yard for her mom for Mother's Day. My house has a bunch of neat flowers & plants that the old lady that lived here before planted. This year, some Irises came up that weren't here last year. I've got several rose bushes, as well. Olivia grabbed one, forgetting that they have thorns. The tears flowed and she reached out for me to hug her. She's growing up, but it's nice to know she still needs me.

Did some decompressing this morning by working in the yard after a busy week last week. Gotta start enjoying life again. I'm trying to get a new perspective. I sat at a birthday party this past weekend and just listened to the mothers - complaining about their busy schedules, annoying in-laws, sagging real estate, and un-involved fathers. There's got to be more to life than that. Life's full of positives that we often overlook, including myself.

It's Friday.

The good news: I didn't damage the bike or wheels I borrowed last weekend, and I made $50 for finishing 10th. The bad news: The field was small and I was never in contention past the first two laps. I felt bad warming up and it never got better. I think that burning the candle at both ends is catching up to me - I've been exhausted this week. Last night, I took two sleeping pills to see if I could get some adequate rest. No luck. I took them at 9:30, didn't fall asleep till well past midnight and was up at 6:05.

Olivia has two more weeks of Kindergarten. I can't believe how fast she is growing up. The other day she remarked that she's glad that people don't go smelling other people's private parts like dogs do. Quite the observer, that little girl of mine.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom! I love you.

not smart

So, I'm sitting here at 11:30pm and I just finished tuning the bike I'm going to try and race in the morning. It's a bike I'm borrowing...that I've never ridden...on wheels I'm borrowing...and I put a small allen key through the tip of my thumb this afternoon....should make for a stellar race tomorrow.

My thumb is throbbing and should probably have a stitch or two in it, but I don't need to get drunk enough to do it myself, and I'm certainly not going to the emergency room.

I'm going to take some Advil and see if I can get some rest.

Time...

I've come to the conclusion that some people are definitely better time managers than others. I am not. I have found myself dumbfounded when I think about CEO's of major companies and how they manage to do all they do. Granted, I've also come to realize that a lot of "successful" people are getting successful while neglecting their spouses, children, friends, health, etc., but I'm still amazed.

I am on a schedule where I am working (albeit not always 8 hours a day) every 12 out of 14 days. I feel like I just don't have time to do anything. Between work, spending time with Olivia, trying to exercise, chores around the house, and a sliver of a social life, I just don't get some things done. My "to do" list (if I wasn't scared to make one) would be two full pages.

I'm not really working out as much as I'd like, but I still seem to be losing weight. Maybe it's stress, maybe it's just being on the go all the time. Maybe it's because I'm not eating as much because even though I'm working more, I still dont' have any money! It's not a bad problem to have, I guess.

Time to spend some time researching time management...

Tour De Georgia

Went to Road Atlanta yesterday for the Team Time Trial stage of the Tour De Georgia. It was good fun. I took my camera, but as is the norm lately, something wasn't working quite right and I got exactly two pictures. The first one is of the Rock Racing Team Provost motorhome - taken for my parents. This was one sweet rig:

For those that don't know about Rock Racing, here's a very short synopsis: Michael Ball owns Rock N' Republic jeans - think 300 bones+ for a pair o' jeans. He's a prick, but a marketing genius. He supposedly raced bikes in the late 80's. He decided last year that he needed to start a pro team. He hired a few riders that have either failed drug tests in the past or are under suspicion for using drugs. He spend large amounts of dough buying team vehicles like the one above and an outlandish uniform for his team. He has since publicly "dissed" promotors, riders, his OWN sponsors, etc. In the meantime, creating more publicity for his team than Lance Armstrong could.

He has umbrella girls, an enormous "posse" of mechanics and hangers-on. He had a large merchandise booth pumping techno music and plasma TV's hyping a very well done video of the team. While I'm pissed that he's chosen to hire known cheaters, I can't help but respect the sheer genius of it all. He's ensuring that cycling will continue to be the farce it has become over the past two decades. Oh, well.

Here's a pic of the Jelly Belly team. My friend Thomas is their team mechanic and I spent quite a bit of time yesterday hanging out with him and the team.

I'm pressed for time, but I'll post again later this weekend some pics of a project bike I've been working on.

Bear on the catwalk

There are some strange things that excite a 5 year old girl. A couple of weeks ago Olivia and I put her Hannah Montana nightshirt on her new dog, Bear.... We also added her ballet tutu. Admittedly, it was pretty damn funny:

This morning, while at her mom's trying to get her dressed, I put her "hoodie" sweatshirt on him. I pulled the hood over his head and he was one dope dog. Olivia laughed until she almost peed herself. Her mom gave me the disappointed look that I'm very used to and said "she's definitely your daughter".

On the way to school all she could talk about was how we need to have a fashion show with Bear. We'll put him in her two piece swimsuit, her robe, a tank top, a sweater, flip flops, sunglasses....the list went on and on. I'm going to have to chronicle it with photos.

The dog is so docile and has no idea what she has planned for his furry ass.

Back in the saddle again...

Made it through my first race of the year with most of myself intact. I actually rode very well. I got involved in a crash about half way through. Fortunately, I fell on top of one of the guys that started the wreck. I messed up my bike a bit and now I have a strange piece of bone drifting around my elbow. I feel like someone hit my elbow with a hammer. Nothing much I can do about it though.

Got back in the race after getting a new rear wheel from the pits. I rode at the front most of the race. There were at least 4 other wrecks and I was nervous. I had planned on putting in a good sprint at the end, but with 4 laps to go I attacked. I stayed off the front for about a lap and a half before getting reeled back in. I was in the top 10 coming out of the last corner, but just didn't have much left. All in all, not bad for as little training as I've been able to do.

It felt good to talk to a lot of guys I haven't seen in a while. The only criterium I did last year, I rode in the ProAm race. Glad I raced the Masters category yesterday. The pros were just hauling ass, and I'm positive I just couldn't hang with them. The best part of the weekend was that several people told me how strong I looked and rode. I think that anyone that competes, no matter the age or sport, likes to hear compliments like that.

I'm pretty sure that part of the reason for my rise in fitness, despite little training, is that I've mysteriously lost about 10lbs the last month and a half. I'm not sure I can attribute it to one thing. Hope it's not a tapeworm or something!

Random shizzle

Gonna race my bike this weekend in Chattanooga. I got a little confidence by finishing second at the "Tuesday Night World Championship" - also know as the practice criterium here in Marietta. Granted, a few of the really good guys sit out the sprint at the end because there's no point in getting killed when you're just racing for pride, but I still felt pretty good considering I'm only riding a couple of time a week.

I'm dog sitting my daughter's new dog while she is at Sea World. He chewed through the cable to my TV. I hope she wasn't too attached to him.

The Tennessee women's basketball team just won their 8th NCAA title. That's domination, even if it is "just" a women's team.

I've started writing a book. I may never finish it. Doesn't matter - I've sworn I'd one day write one.

How and who decides what my horoscope is each day? I need that freakin' job....

Started working for Bavarian Soundwerks yesterday. I'll only be there a couple of days a week. My friend and racing partner, Jason, owns the company. They do high end car audio components primarily for BMW. It will bring in some much needed extra cash right now.

Kyle sent me this e-mail this morning: "Bored. Check out cockbrutality.com". I'm considering an intervention. The guy is clearly disturbed.

Happy Birthday, Jodi! Happy Anniversary, Mom & Dad! Love you all.

underwear

ME: "Hello"

OLIVIA'S MOM: "Olivia has a question that I think you should probably answer"

ME: "OK, put her on."

OLIVIA: "Daddy, this is a question about your privates."

ME: "Uh, my privates? OK."

OLIVIA: "You know how boys' penises are long and stick out? How come when you're wearing pants it doesn't stick out?"

ME: "Well, boys wear underwear just like you and it keeps their penis close to their body so it doesn't stick out."

OLIVIA: "Ohhhhhhhh! Underwear! I didn't think of that." (as though I had just demystified Euclidean geometry)

I smiled, thinking how well I had diverted a possible cornicopea of sex questions....Until I hung up. Then I started thinking...Why is my five year old concerned about penises sticking out? More so, why is my five year old even thinking about penises at ALL? Why does my five year old think penises are "long" (Well, she has seen me getting out of the shower...so that answer is obvious)

I've said it since she was born; I love my little girl, but I want her to morph into a little boy at about 10 years of age. Maybe I'm wrong....Let the metamorphasis begin NOW, while I'm relatively sane.