First Ski of the Year and Season

Normally by now I've had at least a few days on the snow even on a bad year, but often by now I've been skiing for 6-weeks or more.  This year during Thanksgiving the conditions weren't prime for a Silverstar trip and then more CX happened, and then a 2-week trip to AZ sprung up during the holidays. 

First days on the skis are always rough and just finding my balance seems to take a few hours.  Ski legs, that is.  Starting so late in the season I will feel the urgency to try and fast track my fitness but I need to try and remember the need to log a few days just working on the fundamentals and doing some pole-less skiing. 

A short ski today, only 2-hours out at SPNC but it was worth all the effort because it was more about the "journey" today than it was the "destination".  I rolled my eyes when Michael told me they were rolling out at 9am.... that's unheard of in my world of nordic skiing because how are you going to log 4-5 hours with that kind of pedestrian rollout, but then as I was going to bed last night I realized the brilliance and called myself in on that with a quick text exchange.  Big breakfast in Blackistan, a late start, as always, a big bakery stop along the way, but we were still on skis at exactly noon.  The ski was fun, chit chatty and a super cool posse which is whats its all about, but otherwise the ski itself was rather unremarkable.  Post-ski beers in the lot, then on the way home we stopped at our Mexi-joint to watch the Seahawks come from behind and win the big game... more beers.   Great day today, I'm completely bushed and whacked, and Kian finished me off with his energy and wrestling moves.  Stick a fork in me.

Friday Commute

26.0 miles roundtrip. 

That is all.

First Ride Of 2013: Just A Commute

RT Commute:
26-miles (13-miles x2)
1:45minutes
Easy with some power surges.

**Sunny but very brisk this morning but I loved it -- the sunnier and brisker the better!  Ice in spots and had a few tense moments on black ice.  I felt great out there after 2 days off: New Years day eating too much, drinking too much beer, getting fat in front of the TV in Flagstaff but putting it in the bank.  Yesterday was an all-day travel day. In bed by 9:30 along with the kiddo and slept great, 9-hours. 

I'm stoked right now to have pulled the plug on the remainder of my CX season due to the lingering back issues I have had that plagued the majority of my season this year.  I had only a handfull of worthy races this year in which everything really felt good despite feeling physically great in many more -- its hard to have a good race and give it when you're back is coming apart and the hamstrings start seizing. 

Revolution Resolutions: Revival

I' ve been wanting to revive the Dougnog Blog for a few years now.  I've occasionally made a post or two to try and kickstart the effort, but to no avail.  The blog has pretty much sat unattended and neglected for the past few years but today is the first day of 2013 and since New Years and "firsts" are a great opportunity to start over. I am taking the opportunity to start now and I resolve to post a couple times per week. 

If you, gentle reader, want to find out about my kiddo and my home life try me over at the Babycakes Blog because this one is going to focus on my personal selfish thoughts and ambitions.  This is the place for things bike and such. 

So, where am I am cycling-wise right now. 

I'm thinking that on this first day of the year that I will take it off in order to recover for the rest of the year.  No, its to spend time with family and recover from the past 3 days of riding that I've done, most of it above 7000 and in adverse winter conditions.  I'm just happy to have been on my bike and in retrospect it was well worth the effort to bring my bike to AZ on this trip.  The cycling highlights:

1- First day ride in 65 and sunny conditions, 45+ miles.
2- The Shootout!  I just couldn't hang when the going got tough but after a couple big rides and bad fitness I was expecting as much.  I put myself in cruise control on the runup to the topout and regrouped with a small bunch and another hour down the road I managed to regroup for a fairly blistering  return to Tucson in a 20-person paceline.  I was on my Fuji disc cyclocross bike with 32 Panaracer Ribmos that performed and felt great on the road inspite of its clunky wheels, but I was able to go from full-on road race rides one day and then hitup some sweet singletrack the next with just a tire swap.
3- The Tucson 24-hour Course ride.  3-hours of sweet singletrack on Christmas Eve.
4- Flagstaff snow ride.

 

A  couple of my latest Flagstaff-area rides.  This first takes me from Annie's brothers off-the-grid house and into some pretty rugged cycling terrain for a cyclocross bike.  I didn't expect as much snow and some of it, as well as the cinder dust, was nearly unrideable.

 

This is after 11-miles in 1.5 hours of tough riding. I had been unsure of exactly where I was as the temps plummeted and darkness and a storm began setting in, but I finally hit a road and just had to suck it up and get home.  Didn't actually make it all the way... called for a pickup. 

 In this pick I am at the top of a highway pass with over 20 miles still to go: 

snowing, blowing, and 29 degrees.

 Drove down to Sedona yesterday but didn't expect to find snow, 

so stuck to the paved and hardpack dirt. 

Ode to Oma

Walk with Grandma

I like to walk with Grandma, she takes small steps like mine. She never says "let's hurry-up! she always takes her time. I like to walk with Grandma, her eyes see things like mine. Shiny stones, a fluffy cloud, stars at night that shine. People rush their whole day through, they rarely stop to see. I'm glad that God made Grandmas unrushed and young like me!
Author: unknown

Walking with Oma.

Summer time is always Oma-time!

One year Kian wanted to watch Oma's plane leave us as she flew home at the end of the summer. We parked at the end of the runway and watched the planes fly over Our house was always so sad after she left us at the end of every summer. That's just how we feel.

Silent Tear.

Each night we shed a silent tear,
As we speak to you in prayer.
To let you know we love you,
And just how much we care.
Take our million teardrops,
Wrap them up in love,
Then ask the wind to carry them,
To you in heaven above.

We love you, Oma... you are forever in our hearts!

The Sick and Inferm

I joined the illin' club for the month of October. All of October, from start to finish. The start date was September 28th but the ending date is a little vague since I started bike commuting to work again last week, but I didn't dare race last weekend for fear of a relapse. Hopefully I'll be doing the double this weekend and I'm hoping that my legs will come back around quickly although I know that I'll be disappointed -- there's no way that I will have it back yet. If only...

Life kinda sucks when you're out of commission. One of the great joys that I have every day is my 13-mile commute each way to work and back because right now its just about the only "me" time that I get in a day. We are slammin at work, and when I get home I'm tackled and its non-stop until Kian goes to bed. When Kian goes to bed I'm usually so whooped that I'm not far behind. So while I was sick I had to forgo that pleasure and it made life seem so much more pointless: why am I doing all this? Speaking of commute...

I don't understand how so many people do the car thing. Its pathetic, really. If they only knew how much better they'd feel -- physically, emotionally, mentally, even morally, if they gave up the comfort of their damn cars and connected with their "world" a little bit. Physically its not that hard and after a few weeks of riding just about anyone could tackle just about any commute under 10-miles and then your time is better used -- who doesn't want to get fitter, healthier = happier? Emotionally it is such a "high" to be out in the environment -- even the urban landscape gives you such a satisfactory connection to your world. Mentally its vital -- instead of falling into lazy repetition, wake up and connect, engage, and you will find you are way more stimulated. Morally? I don't mean to play the highroad card but lets face it, traffic sucks and by extracting yourself from the rat race you feel as though you can look down upon the peons from on high. Choose the lowroad, but its your choice.

Stepping down from the soapbox, I'm leaving work early today to go train with the Danimal -- a local masters racer who has the monetary capacity to pay for me to be his ride buddy: Lang is his coach and sets up his plans, and I just ride along with him once or twice per week and crack the whip. This evening I'll be crackalackin!

The Doom of Steilacoom: 2011 Version 1.0

This year there are to be two SCX races at Steilacoom, and as always, I'm looking forward to this venue, but as of now the first is in the books. I had a good race and feel pleased, but even with a 2nd place finish in the elite field anything less than first feels a little hallow. Even though Steven Fischer CRUSHED us, but don't feel so bad knowing he raced on the national circuit all last year.

As usual, by the end of the first lap the players had made their move and due to the non-technical nature of the course a groupetto formed: Steve, myself, and a new guy on the scene, Gian (John). The first three laps were constant attacking and I did my utmost to just hang on, but by lap three I managed to find my legs and lungs and I threw down a couple of my own attacks but only managed to dangle. The long dirt climb was the place where all the hurt was happening and sure enough, with 2 to go, Steve attacked on the climb. I was sitting in third at the time and could only watch as Steve opened the gap b/c I couldn't get around Gian on that narrow section, but about halfway up the climb in a wider spot I launched and put a good gap on Gian but Steve already had a 25+ meter gap. Gone! I felt like I closed it a bit, in places, and I definitely build upon my lead on Gian, but eventually Steve built on his gap on the final lap and I had to settle for 2nd. The final lap I could have taken it pretty easy but I felt great and rocked the course, but I still couldn't make headway on Steve. A great day for me out there, I was really satisfied with my performance and am happy that I can compete with the fast, young up-and-comers instead of having to race with the Masters to stay competitive.

SCX's race report was just as straightforward and truthy enough, although w/o the inclusion of the personal-suffering element its a boring read: "The Elite Men’s race had a lead group of three formed on the very first lap. The lead group included Steve Fisher (Rad Racing/Revel Consulting), Gian Dalle (Rio Bianco) and Doug Reid (Team Stanley). Fisher attacked on the penultimate to last lap and quickly dropped his companions. The 2010 collegiate national champion would hold on for the win, while Reid would roll in ahead of Dalle for second.

Seattle Cyclocross Race #1

Here's SCX's report of the race:
The Elite Men’s race quickly sorted out and a lead group of four developed. In the lead group were Morgan Schmitt (United Healthcare Pro Cycling), Logan Owen (Redline Bicycles), Doug Reid (Team Stanley) and Logan Wetzel (Second Ascent). The four riders traded attacks throughout the proceeding laps, to no avail until the final lap. Owen made the decisive move and Reid was the only one to follow. The 16 year-old Owen would eventually drop Reid and hold him off for the solo victory. Reid would hold off a hard charging Schmitt for second and Wetzel followed in for fourth. Kyle McGilvray (Old Town Bicycle) came in for a strong fifth place finish.

Here's mine:

Dougnog Revival!

I've been meaning to get this thing going again for a good while now, so now's the time (how many times have I started like that?): on the eve of my '011 cyclocross debut its time to start logging and blogging my stats and thoughts and pics. The baby-blog is still going strong despite a few off-months of posting, but my personal blogging has long taken a back seat. One might think I'd given up cycling altogether, but o contrair mon frer, I'm still out there suffering along with the best of 'em.

This summer is being dubbed The Summer of the Crash. I'm leary calling it The Year of the Crash because I'm really hoping to put an end to this bad habit I've gotten into. Four, 4, quattro, this many: ++++! That's a whole lotta crashing for one body in one short summer and I'm quite sick of it. The money I've shelled out in bandages is killing me, and I'm tired of the hours of cleaning and screaming it takes just to clean the bits of dirt and tarmac out of my poor skin afterwards. You'd think that cross season would be kinder and gentler, but 2 of the 4 were on my cross bike. Enough, I'm knocking on wood right now and committing to keeping the rubber and the muddy side down.

Stay tuned, more blogginess happening atcha!

Wenatchee Omnium '010

I went into the weekend not as the favorite, by any means, but as the defending champ. I like the race, not so much the omnium format which has been hard on me in former years, but because of the venues: a straight-forward TT, a wicked crit that semi-technical, and a super steep hill climb made even harder this year. For several years I considered it home turf since its just downstream from our place on the Chiwawa. Last year I swept each stage and would hardly dream of pulling that one off again since this year the race was a state championship race.

And my Veloce buddy DQ would be making the trip up with his new gal, so I'd have a teammate again.

Michael Black pulled up just a few hours late in his pimpin ride, VW wagon, and the 3 of us loaded everything that would fit... 4 bikes up top, Kian and Annie in the back with bags between their legs, and about 15 wheelsets. We actually couldn't fit a few things, but I forget what now that we'd been forced to leave behind. Didn't matter.

Stayed at the cabin this year, no Tortuga, since some friends of ours were getting married at Mountain Springs Resort just a few miles away and if I hustled, I could make the races AND the reception. It all worked out and Emily and Jason had a splendid wedding (I'm told) and a fabulous reception.

The TT went reasonably well. I felt like I was digging deep and had a mostly solid ride. Two super strong time-trialers beat me which didn't surprise me, so I was third but by only 6 seconds over Dan. We are always pretty close: one year he pipped me by a second in Wenatchee, but last year I took a lot out of him since he was my 30-second man.

The Crit, from a team standpoint, went well as 10-minutes into the race DQ got off in the winning move and took 2-primes. I was a bit frustrated having to cover and behave myself, but the biggest frustration was finding out afterwards that the TT winner was in that break. What? No one knew who this guy was and we all let him ride away. Also, as I was about to take the field sprint I pulled out of my pedal and almost killed myself by slamming into a barrier, but I had enough momentum that I still managed to roll across the line in 5th with one leg out of the pedal, coasting. Those were precious points, as it would turn out the next day. Also key, was that TG was pipped at the line for 3rd, which meant that he didn't gain too many points on me.

The RR was mine, I wanted it, and on the 2nd of 4 laps I attacked. I knew that I would attack on the lap but was unsure exactly when, but even so I surprised myself when I lept out from the group. And as usual it hurts worse than you expect and you almost instantly regret the move, and the feeling that you get when you leave the confines of the peleton is like you've dropped off a ledge and your dangling there, about to fall. I looked back after a few minutes and I was already 400-500 meters clear of the group. At that moment I had rounded one of the steepest sections of the course and the road doubled back on itself so I was looking straight down on them below. Only one other person was clear of the group, so they were reacting, and the main group was obviously in disarray as it was splintered, probably dudes trying to respond to this other attacker. I kept on but settled in and waited to see if this lone gunman was still solo, because with two more laps remaining I could use a conspirator. The next time I checked the rider was clear and was broadening his gap on the group so I took the opportunity to ease a bit and recover some before we joined forces. Turned out it was the winner of the TT and the crit, a super strong Cat 1, recently turned Masters rider (turned 35 yo), and so I was in good company. Without a word we fell into taking pulls and we crushed it! Also without words I took the KOM, he let me have it, because on the leadup I surged hard and looked back, and since he didn't respond it was mine to have, he wouldn't contend me for it, so in order to save time and work together, I fell back to working with him until just before we crossed the line when I made sure that I was on the front. Besides, I'd already taken the previous KOMs so it was mine for the taking -- he was more interested in the race outcome than he was the KOM. Then we topped out and began the steep descent back to the bottom so we could do it again, 2 more times.

So, now strategy came into play and I wondered what was going to happen. The options: 1) we would work together for one more lap then we'd fight it out for the final lap to see who was strongest. 2) as it was, he had the overall sealed up and so he would rather share the load with me and duke it out in the sprint for the stage win. Well, turns out there were a lot more options at play on this day and we actually talked about them, which isn't always the case in races like this. One of the many variables was that a local Seattle rider who is known as being a jerk and is generally despised in the peleton, lets call him TG, who was sitting in 2nd on GC and was a serious contender, said something stupid to my break companion, as he is wont to do, that pissed him off and so he was motivated to drop TG and teach him a lesson. Turns out we really did.

The day was a scorcher, in the 90's or maybe even 100+, and everyone felt the heat. We sure did. We hammered the descent and straightaway section across the bottom of the course but once we hit the climb we settled in and chatted almost the entire 4-5 mile climb, sharing stories and food. We didn't say anything to each other about our condition because we still expected to become mortal enemies on the last go up the climb, but later we confided to each other that we were both suffering from near cramping and leg spasms. The last thing you want to do is let your combatant know of a weakness because its sure to be exploited. I was constantly sizing him up for any weakness that I could attack, but found none, and he said the same about me although I know that I was hurting and my legs were on the brink of serious cramping. Anyway, we also had info coming from the lead support car that TG was in no-mans-land between us and the next chasers and we were easily holding a 3-4 minute lead, so why hurt ourselves further. Again, we worked hard on the descents and straightaways knowing thats where we'd solidify our advantage and then we eased up the climb. In fact, eventually my guy told be about TGand said that I could take the stage win if we worked together on the day: done deal! I couldn't think of a better scenario. The win for me on the day meant that I would move ahead of TG on GC to 2nd and he would slip to 3rd, and my new friend (who's name I forget) would still take the overall win. Now that's bike racing!

And TG must have really suffered out there all alone in the heat trying to catch us and stay away from his chasers. Thank god I had it so easy because I might have exploded had I been forced to continue attacking in that heat.

Great weekend. Thanks MB, thanks DQ, for the great times. You too AF and KCR.

Olympics: 3-days to Blast Off

It's official, we're heading up to Vancouver/Whistler/Callahan Olympics '010 in order to penetrate and infiltrate, avoiding the subjugate, so that we can spectate. Our expectations are set exceedingly low compared with our unbridled confidence; we are going in unprepared and unbriefed, but we are sure of a successful mission because our key is surprise, camouflage and absolute flexibility. Step one: cross border. Step two: proceed with reckless caution with hardhats and clipboards in hand.

'09 Cyclocross Season Salvaged in 45-mins

I had a pretty crummy cyclocross season this year. That is, until 45-minute of the entire season was left.

I was nursing some nagging health issues that didn't effect my family life but kept me from really "giving it" on the bike beginning in June of last summer. I just felt as though I wasn't quite right, blamed it on too much riding and racing, and child rearing, and decided to just lay low for awhile. Laying low is nice sometimes and its easy to get sucked into soft pedaling all the time and keeping the heart rate in the mortal range. But I knew that since it was too easy to ride like this I must really need the rest, because that's just not like me: usually its hard for me to keep it slow, to not treat every hill like a challenge. Fartlek, its my favorite term for a reason. So the last half of my road race season I was on the bike less than a 1/4 of normal. I did a couple weekday races but mostly rode with Kian attached in the Chariot.

Racing For Hardware

Cross starts in September and I didn't even care. I had a couple big races that I'd hoped to defend from '08, but we took a couple week trip up into BC instead, climbing, hiking, showing Kiki the mountains for the first time up close and personal. My first race was in late October and I had it handed to me in the Elite race, a reality check for how much fitness I'd lost. I started getting out a few times a week and had some really good short-and-sweet training sessions: I still know how to turn it up while out on a stealth training run, and I started getting some confidence that I might have a chance at Nationals if I really ramped it up.

I signed up for Cyclocross Singlespeed World's in Portland and decided to make it a "double" weekend by racing in the Oregon State Championship race the day before. I had the silver medal clinched going into the final lap but self destructed with a couple of mechanical's but managed to pull off the bronze. I did SS World's on 4 or 5 beers and a skipping cog, so I really gave myself no chance. Besides, I didn't carry any dollar bills for the stripper bus shortcut which cost me even more. But fun was had on a gold medal level, that's for sure.

Video: SSWC: Through the Thunderdome (I'm wearing tighty-whities and bull horns).
Video: SSWC: Overall Race (cameo: horning in on the Pope and getting served).

Then it was the Washington State Championships where I took Gold in the Masters and then followed it 10-minutes later with Silver in the SS division. The next day I raced but was completely shelled because of a seizure in the muscles in my back, although I was able to stick with the leaders for a couple laps which I felt really good about. I felt pretty fast.

Now came the real crux of my entire season: do I take a 10-day trip to Tucson to train for Nationals and to race in the Tour de Tucson, or do I just admit the impossibility of getting enough fitness in the final few weeks to pull of the win and go XC skiing instead? Annie had a hand in the decision, so I'll blame her: we went skiing instead and although we had a fabulous time at Silverstar getting in 5-days of great skiing, this could have been that "straw". Or maybe not, who knows, maybe that skiing gave me the extra cardio I needed, although it undoubtedly tapped into the snappy nature of my cycling legs. I was so certain of failure at Nationals, at this point, I all but gave up. My goal, starting from the front row due to my top 10 last year, was to again finish in the top 8 and defer my national championship bid until next year when I would be more fit. I even skipped the biggest races in the NW the first weekend of December to go skiing again, so sure was I.

I probably could have skipped Nationals at that point, but Lara and Jon invited me to join them for a hotel room and a carpool, so there I was.

The secret to my success was this: the course. I wouldn't have admitted this prior to the race because intuitively I didn't like the course or the conditions, and I still haven't learned that often how a course appears during pre-riding is nothing like it will become when the gun goes off. When you preride a course I think too much about the lines, where I will falter, and who of my competitors will be served well by it, but once the race starts the thinking ends and its a race into and through the tunnel. I usually like it in the tunnel, and seemingly like it best when the stakes are high. Maybe that's why I raced for the hardware this year and why I found myself in 6 out of 8 championship races this season.

Wenatchee Omnium '09

Veloce cleaned up. In the Masters race.

DQ and I were the Team Veloce representatives and we've raced this one together before, and knowing what we were up against this weekend we wanted the overall. We were both on form this weekend but didn't realize just how good we were: I swept all 3 stages and so took 1st overall, and Dan-O was right behind and he got 3rd GC. Together in the crit we took all but 1 prime, and so it ended up being a pretty profitable time for us.

Actually, I wasn't wearing my Veloce kit but my Seattle team's, Second Ascent. We had a big turnout in the lessor categories (Cat 5, 4, 3) and they were all hanging out at the finish line beer garden for the crit. Here's a pic of the official finish. The team was wondering what I was doing at the line: blowing kisses or calling out my beer order? Yep.

Hello Cruel World

I held out pre-registering for the Ozbaldy 50-k because I am still scarred from the '07 Kongskerger Stampede there at Cabin Creek when the fresh snow amounted to skiing on 8 inches of mush. I hated that and vowed never to do it again. History repeats itself. Especially the history of stupid things.

Not being pre-registered was my opportunity to bail should the conditions be warm and/or soft and/or deep. Watching the weather for days I was prepared to skip the race as a wet trend was expected, but with months of anticipation I just couldn't resist going up there on Sunday to "see" how things were looking. Huge snow coming down on the way up: no way would I race in this stuff. Racers milling about, the pre-race energy and electricity in the air, it seemed that it was only me who was concerned that there was 4" of fresh snow on the trails and more piling up every moment. "You wuss, just do it", somebody said -- my inner voice is so hard on me. I paid the $5 penalty for not pre-reging, I suited up and then went out for a warm up: are you kidding me? 50-km in this stuff? But the reality of the situation still didn't register fully and I failed to consider the effects.

At the starting line I noticed that EVERYONE else had a water bottle, but remember 3 years before that there had been neutral feeds of water and powergels which would be enough... why weigh myself down.

The race started pretty slow but I took the cautious approach and kept myself inside the top-5: "start at the front, stay at the front", my longtime motto, and just as in a bike race there is less danger at the front. After lap-1 the race was already whittled down to about 10 skiers, and about midway through lap-2 the first explosions started.

Time to whine:
--Snow was deep: no tracks for easy descents or double-poling so it was like doing a 100-miles on a fixed gear bike; snow filled up the baskets on my poles which was probably my biggest downfall -- couldn't pole and my arms went out by the 2nd lap.
--No food or water: I lie, I had 3-dixie cups of water in 3-hours. No food.
--Bindings ill adjusted and so my tips dived into the snow, had to lift my legs even higher.
--Bone spur on left foot ached entire race; right foot cramped final 10-km; left elbow tendinitis flared up. Fortunately the pain kept my mind off the race and the shitty deep snow.
--The snow on the outside and the tears on the inside had my glasses fogged the whole day.

I could have/should have done better, but I am damn proud right now to say that I even finished that SOB of a race. I heard that over 30% pulled out.

I was racing for 4th with 20-km to go but slipped back fast and lost a few spots, but I could care less about that. This was definitely one of those PV races (personal victories), and to overcome while staring in the face of the beast is what its all about. I flinched, but wasn't mortally wounded, and so will be reborn into a greater being for the next time.

Nordic racing is over for the season and now its ski for FUN (don't let me fool you, its all fun) and transition to the bike!

Winter is Back!

Nordic Winding Down?

Already by the first of February it seemed that winter and the cross-country season was winding down. Living here in the city its often hard to imagine there is snow up there to be had, especially when the temps are in the 50's and the sun is out, like its been.

What has helped me keep my head in the game this year is hitting those Wednesday night ski sessions up at Cabin Creek. I'm usually feeling pretty tired when 4 o'clock rolls around and its time to start making my way up to the Pass, and sometimes it feels as though I'd almost rather stay at work and catch up a bit but once I get out there in the trees, feel the vibrations of the snow through my skis, and I take a few gulps of the fresh air, I come alive again!

The same can then be true of racing: sometimes I am just not motivated to race and would rather ski around for "fun" (imagine that), but once I take off the warmup pants and break out into the one piece lycra suit I get that raceface back and it feels like "go" time. Its always such a rewarding feeling to go out there and light it up as best you can, as no matter how you do its always a good feeling to burn some carbs through the pipes.

Last nights 2-lap, 5-k ski was just like that. I only raced because Jeff asked me if I was going to race, and who knows, maybe he was feeling the same way and only raced because I raced, but either way it sure felt good. The course was... fast. Well, I prefer the term "variable", because fast means slick, but most skiers would agree that good grooming should be a part of the "fast" equation and last night there was almost no texture on the snow (ice) to speak of. It was a rink, slippery as hell, and the visual of "Bambi on ice" was brought up.

Gives Shitty Coffee New Meaning

Get this: my office mate alerted me to this style of coffee while being my usual coffee-snob self. Didn't believe her, should have b/c she's from Colombia. A coffee snob too but drowns her coffee in cream, what a waste of good coffee. And good cream.

Kopi Luwak coffee comes from the Indonesian island of Sumatra, an area well-known for its excellent coffee. Also native to the area is a small civit-like animal called a Paradoxurus. These little mammals live in the trees and one of their favorite foods is the red, ripe coffee cherry. They eat the cherries, bean and all. While the bean is in the little guy's stomach, it undergoes chemical treatments and fermentations. The bean finishes its journey through the digestive system, and exits. The still-intact beans are collected from the forest floor, and are cleaned, then roasted and ground just like any other coffee.

One must wonder about the circumstances that brought about the first cup of Kopi Luwak coffee. Who would think to (or even want to) collect and roast beans out of animal feces? Perhaps a native figured it was easier to collect the beans from the ground this way, rather than having to work harder and pick them from the trees? We'll likely never know. But because of the strange method of collecting, there isn't much Kopi Luwak produced in the world. The average total annual production is only around 500 pounds of beans.

Because of the rarity of this coffee, the price is quite outrageous. If you can find a vendor, the current cost for a pound of Kopi Luwak is around $300 or more.

And elsewhere I found this:

Happily a company in Vietnam named Trung Nguyen has found a way to synthetically reproduce this fantastic product through a patented process that mimics the original perfectly and at a much lower cost, only around $16 per pound roasted. We proudly bring you this and many other delicious coffee varieties produced in the highlands of Vietnam. Enjoy!

Observation

I have mostly understood the Euro way of eating as opposed the American trend of OVER eating, and I've always considered it a quality versus quantity issue. Here is an interesting article that help speaks to why: I hadn't realized that the French were such Nazis about fat and overeating, but perhaps we should all be. Some people just can't help the fact that they are overweight, genetic we're told, but obesity is for sure a problem that has become an epidemic here in the US and increasingly around the world.

Zee French and Fat article

And it seems to me that the mentality that is garnered by this idea of quality over quantity permeates the entire idea of lifestyle, and by espousing such an "ideal" helps lead to other, more healthy ways of living.

Quality over Quantity: better food, healthier food, natural more responsibly produced food; focus on improving experience as opposed to "been there, done that".

Time over Money: better use of time, more family, conscious living rather than always being busy and "over booked". Choosing a life which vibes with you over which job pays the most.

Bike over Car: yeah, know I'm pushing it.

Endless Skiing String Snapped

Yeah, we finally took a weekend away from snow, didn't ski one measely K between Saturday and Sunday. But oh yeah, I got up to Cabin Creek on Friday to free my car and I snuck out for a few laps on the Berg and Ozbaldy Loops.

Saturday we decided to get domestic and hang out with family because we'd put so many things on hold since winter began in mid-December (winter officially begins for me when cyclocross season ends, and not a second sooner -- this year the winter weather coincided perfectly), but beforehand I snuck out for a quick 4-hour bike ride. Nice out there but way chilly, fingers and toes suffered a bit, but had a great ride doing the South Lake-May Valley-Issaquah-and Home Loop. Home late of course, cleaned up, then drove up to Snoqualmie to hang out with my nephews and let Kian be the nephew that he is to my sis and bro-in-law.

Sunday we were inside mucking about all morning, finally a nice leisurly breakfast. On weekends recent I'm actually up before the time that I go to work on weekdays, except that I almost never have to actuate the sleep function, I snap awake. Shit, going skiing!

In the afternoon yesterday I got the whole family out on the bike trail: Kian behind me in tow, mushing from the Chariot, and Annie riding round-up to fend off any attacks from behind. We rode down to Golden Gardens to pay out respects to Kevin Brown, the Seattle cyclist killed in an accident last week. A very healing experience for all and always a worthy meditation for every cyclist: the reality of our sport and mode of transportation as a very dangerous act, and the reality that we are very fragile passengers out there. Our condolences to everyone who knew him and a prayer for all cyclists everywhere.

Last night during one of my Kian sessions I happened to look out and notice fat flakes falling across the street light out front: sweet, NOAA campus will be opening late! When my alarm buzzed me at 6am I excitedly called the hotline but my hopeful no-go was a go-go, damn! But I love to ride in this stuff and so I rode to work especially hopeful and wide-eyed this morning. Proof!

6 of 7 Weekends on Snow, Lots More to Go!

Thats right, the string continues and this weekend the plan is for yet another day on skis. Last weekend the family threesome got an early Saturday start and while hosting they each got in about 2-3 hours of snow time. The rest of the time we chatted, hob-nobbed and otherwise worked our asses off for free (we are volunteering in order to make the world a better place). Okay, its not bad duty.

Rendezvous Pass

Rubbing in some J-stream before the start!

Busride from Mazama to Cub Creek.

It was my first XC race of the season and my expectations were pretty low. I didn't start skiing this year until CX season ended, mid-December, and I'm also not living over there in the snow this year and so I'm just not skiing as much. The previous few winters it was ridiculous how much skiing I did. I'd get out for a ski at least once a day, nearly, and I did a lot of long skis about 3-4 hours long. Two years ago I tracked it and know that I had over 150-hours of nordic skiing that winter, and thats pretty substantial. This year I'll probably be lucky to crack 75, and that will be skiing every weekend and Wednesday night possible.

But you know me: I want to push myself when I race, and so I was secretly hoping that I would get seeded in the first or second row again this year, but I was given a start number of 9 which is the third row, definitely what I deserved for not even racing yet this year. A couple guys that I usually finish around were flying this year and they were starting in row two, and I fully expected them to ski away from me right from the start of the race.

The course up over Rendezvous is a logging road, so its one car-width wide, not enough for a mass start event and so they send rows of 4 racers off in waves 30-seconds apart. The hope is that you'll ski off with racers just a little bit better than you so you can ski above your ability and maybe catch a skier or two up ahead, but the first two waves are stacked with the best, so its not as easy as you might think to jump across a 30-second gap. It was a perfect day in the Methow: crisp and cold, and so the snow was probably on the slow side. At the start I did some rubber-necking and noticed 9 out of 10 racers skiing the MVX grind, and I'd decided to use my skis with the 615B grind and was regretting my choice. What the hell did I know? Not much, and I was sure that most of them did. And wax? I rubbed in some warmish condition Jetstream over a bit of HF, but in these cold conditions I definitely wasn't on the primo stuff.

A local named Chad led the early charge in my group and we could see all 8 skiers up ahead of us in the respective group of 4 as they snaked out the early flats and then started up the long, grueling first climb about 2-km from the start. I tucked into 2nd and remember thinking "this is too fast for me, I'll never make it over the hill with this group". Maybe a minute after the road started up Chad moved over and so I took over the lead, and not wanting to slow anyone down and wanted to keep the pace fairly high. After about a minute with my head down, drool starting to come, I glanced back and was shocked to see that I had a decent gap over my comrades. "Oops, this is stupid, I'm going to fast, I'm going to crack, slow down" were all thoughts of mine. But on further inspection I realized that I felt pretty good so I kept on cranking away, focusing on not over-doing it, not exploding out there and going from third wave to thirtieth. From V-2 I transitioned into a V-1 but found that my HR was skyrocketing because of the high turnover, and gradually after going back and forth, I found myself skiing a technique I don't think I'd tried before: I seemed to be doing a modified V-2 Alternate, and I'm not sure right now I can even describe what I was doing. But it was comfy. I could take bigger steps and reduce my turnover, and my emphasis was on my transfer of body weight and I could even feel the efficiency in my stroke. Halfway up the first climb I passed the 4th dude from wave 2, and I could see that I was moving up on everyone, and I was definitely within 1-minute of the lead group, and at this point I realized that I was the virtual leader "on the road".

This wouldn't last long. I kept up my pace, I felt great, but the lead group must have punched it because closer to the first top-out at Cow Creek they were gone. I need to make a note here: I was suffering like a dog at this point. I remember just wanting to give up, to slow down and hit an easy cruise control, but I had been gaining on Jon and Sean and desperately wanted to catch them because to do so would be a major coup. I surged and caught them, and slid on past just to say "hi" and help out with the pace-making, but I past by them and had another gap. This time I couldn't believe it. But then I looked up ahead and could see Leslie skiing along up the next long pitch and I thought, this is the end of my passing racers, only 4 out ahead, so just hold this spot and it will be an amazing result.

The next 30+ minutes I skied alone, suffering hard but really checking out the Rendezvous and somehow (in retrospect only, I'm sure) I managed to enjoy myself and my surroundings. There were more steep pitches and I could always see Leslie up ahead jamming her V-1 and killing me up those climbs while I tried to prevent a meltdown but skiing "efficiently". But I was really running scared because I knew there were several guys behind coming hard and I preferred not to get caught even thought it meant severe discomfort. Again I tried to V-1 but my HR was sent into the stratosphere, and at one point I had a side cramp so bad that I had to slow it way down. And I remember my head hurting too: it was super cold up there, and the 30-kph descents froze my skin, my fingers and my toes, but I had a seriously huge grin from the sweet descents. I let my skis run fast!

Leslie was out of sight at this point and I was alone out there, but then after what seemed like forever I caught a glimpse of Leslie just out in front of me. The road straightened out and in the distance I could see another climb coming up, and there she was but I had to get on that, now! I V-2ed down the descent and managed to catch her just as the next climb started: I pulled up behind, slowly, already in the V-1, and I watched as my long shadow from the blazing sun moved up towards her and under her legs... she never looked back but there was no mistaking that she knew I was there. This next climb was epic, and though I didn't know it at the time its referred to by the locals as "Sick Joke Hill", and yeah, it was a pretty sick joke after over an hour of hard racing already. She slayed me up that thing! I settled in right behind her, rolled my eyes back into my head, turned on the slobber machine, and just tried to match her pace. I slinkied backwards once or twice but fought back, but there was one time too many when I finally just said "F-it! I can't do this anymore", but just as I'd let about 10-meters open up I could see what looked like a summit, or at least a false summit, and that was enough to give me some willpower to close back the gap. Sweeeeet! Just goes to show you how mental this damn endurance sporting is.

We bombed the hills and I was loving it being tucked in behind a local: she knew every nook and cranny. About 8-km out I noticed another rider out there, a lone dude who was coming back to us and there was still time to reel him in. I could see that we were going to do it in those final ups and downs on the tight trails of the MCT leading into Mazama. When he saw us coming it was too late. We all three burst out of the trees less than 2-km from the line and this was my time to lead things out: I jumped into the tracks to double-pole past Leslie and she hollered for me to get back, a sportswomanly thing to do because even skiing next to her I was 30-seconds up, so she wouldn't have anything to gain by drag racing me to the line. I hopped back, stumbled a bit, caught myself and then started to jam on the V-2. I caught the number three guy and passed as he was double-poling, and I decided to give it everything that I had because I had no idea how far number 1 and 2 were ahead and I would have been bummed to lose a spot because I didn't kill it to the finish: for all I knew I had a shot at winning this thing. I came across the line in 3rd, over 3 minutes behind the winner. That was a damn fine result for me and a huge surprise.

I'm pretty proud of that result, but only because I left everything that I had out there. Thats why we race, afterall, and it doesn't always come together like that. Fitness, mental state at the time, technique, and strategy all has to conspire for the perfect race to transpire, and even afterwards I feel like I could not have gone any faster, and it was because of the rabbits and demons that I was out there racing against.

The next two days we just skied: nice, slow, awesome skiing under blue sunny skies with good friends! THATS what its all about!

My final kick 200-meters to the line!

Out on a long classic ski with Joe Brown and Scott Waichler (40+kms):
Cow Beach at Goat Wall, Mazama.

Kickin with Kiki: Wolf Ridge Warming Hut.

Word of the Day

Proprioception.
n. The unconscious perception of movement and spatial orientation arising from stimuli within the body itself.

[Latin proprius, one's own + (RE)CEPTION.]

In a sentence: "There is still plenty of snow up there, and skiing in the dark, with all your friends and their twinkling headlamps, is an adventure in proprioception, a mid‐week blast of fresh air, a chance to try out new equipment or new waxing techniques, and a great alternative to “Law and Order.”"

I love it, thanks xcskigirl!

Thinkin of the Weekend

i cut out from work early today, chiseled the mud off my crossbike and had a nice little two hour ride, first of the new year. i saw roger out and about on his bike yesterday while i was doing boat inspections in ballard: i'm guessing he was "at work". i honked but he was all business, the dog.

kian made the suggestion that we take the tortuga up to the pass this weekend to camp and ski (he actually said goo googa, but i knew what he meant), so thats what we're thinking. we'll XC on saturday, party with the RVers in the stevens lot on sat night then tele if the tele is good on sunday, if not we'll nordic. if anyone wants to join, come on out: camp in the lot or bring a space heater for your car and you can plug into us, ha!

its winter and i'll feel the urge to ski while there is skiing to be had.

d

Careful What You Pray For

Snow! Last week and the weekend before that, Seattle was pummeled with a heavy dose of snow that chock-blocked the entire city. Factories and businesses were forced to close and the local economy took a hit. And I got a couple days of paid vacation, baby!



On the days that I did go into work I was able to go in late because the "campus" decreed it, and I did so on my 29er MTB and it was a blast riding the Burke-Gilman under half a foot of compact snow. But would we be able to get out of town for our Christmas cabin in the Methow... hell yes! We put the insurance back on Annie's truck and busted through snowbanks to get there. Actually, once we got over the hump and into the East-side of the state at Stevens Pass the driving was easy: they know how to deal with snow over there and the drivers usually know to navigate the thick stuff, so it was pretty smooth sailing.




Back on the skinnies!

After returning from KC I was eager to change up the fitness regime and start doing some Nordic ski training by taking out the rollerskis, but ironically the snow hit after just a day or two back and the trail was impassable by rollerski: I'd need real skis, but real crappy skis, and I have a few pairs at the cabin but not here so I would have to save my first day on "skates" for the real thing. The next Saturday we went up to Stevens Pass Nordic Center (forever referred to as SPNC from here on out) with J&L and I got in about 1-1/2 on skis.

How It Unfolded, i.e. How Dougie Folded

We hit the weather-window perfectly and this course was mine, all mine... on just about any other year, but I hadn't been feeling it over the past 8-weeks and so a flat race actually might have suited me better on this day, but as fate would have it we would climb the Cyclocross equivalent of Mount Ventoux 8 times.

Okay, it was only a small hill but by cyclocross standards this was more than a molehill, it was a mole mountain. There were a couple steep pitches as the course wound up to the summit where Running with the Devil was blasted out over the tree-barren landscape and a quad of stairs. Beautiful!


My goal was singular: the jersey or nothing, and so by design my plan was to use my front row start to my advantage and go out hot. Starting right next to me was the man that I'd picked to win the jersey after seeing him light us up in Louisville, and knowing that he'd been training in the milder SE climes for the past few months I expected him to be on fire. At the gun he nailed it, took the whole shot and I followed into the black hole shot of fitness: I was off the map, unsure if I could maintain, but I had a plan and was actually pulling it off now. I took the first turn in second place. Second turn, third turn, then his teammate charged past and it was two Moots on the front, then me, and we had a gap. This pace had us attacking out of every corner and we were alone as the chaos went on behind us, without us. 2/3rds of the way up the climb the chasing riders from the strung-out field made contact with us, and not long later the first rider attacked us. That was it for me! When I saw that dude spring past us, and gauging the pain and burn that I was then sustaining, I instantly knew that I was outclassed and couldn't compete with that. Apparently my Moots comrades felt similarly because they were like spindrift coming out the backside of a cannon, heading the wrong way even faster than I was. The problem with shooting for hot is that its a little too close to that proverbial flame, and I caught fire, crashed and burned. I was a flame out, and the last few hundred meters up to the summit a bunch of dudes cruised past me as my head hung low, my lungs bursting.

I almost pulled out, to be perfectly honest, and our leadout man, the one I'd picked to win the whole dang thing, did. DNF, ouch. His teammate, our number two man for awhile, also self-destructed but ended up finishing barely inside the top 20, I think. I soldiered on, but only because I knew that there were so many people expecting greatness from me and there is nothing worse than the disappointment of your horse not even finishing the race: I HAD to finish on the board somewhere, even if it was on the final page.

I doused out the flames by unzipping the skinsuit and I righted the sinking ship by pulling back on the throttle and letting all that lactic acid work its way out. After a lap and a half of practicing damage control I was finally able to start reapplying some pressure and firing up the furnace once more, and by then I'd slipped back to at least 18th as I was told by the heartless spectators.

The remainder of the race is hardly worth tellling. By the time I found my legs again the race was over, it was going on up ahead, but the worst part about it all was that I could hear the blow by blow through the announcer's loudspeakers, and all the principal players were guys who I'd been racing all season long, and had beaten on more than an occasion. I should have been up there, but the cruel reality of life which is so beautifully re-enacted in the metaphor called cyclocross, is that I was being left for dead and no one cared. And so it should always be.

And so it went! I picked off a bunch more racers and devoured them along the way in my fallen quest, but the real story was happening elsewhere. I cannot make my story any more glamorous than can the wildebeast who is being masacred by a pack of dogs, however even those sacrificed in the game of life have served the holiest and most noble of purpose. Our story goes on, retold again and again in every race that is ever ridden.

I crossed the line in a mere 8th place, defeated after suffering like those starved dogs, but I was the hero reborn again into a new racer with a new chance at victory.

Race Day

There is a dull light in the sky this morning and heavy wind gusts, but the only meterological factor that interests me right now is precip. Specifically that there is none. I'll tell you why.

Yesterday the clan that I've taken up with here, all friends from ABQ, and I rode our bikes the 5-6 miles to the race venue to pre-ride the course during the 1-hour opening at noon. We took off out of the parking with 3 dudes from Oklahoma and instantly 2 of them went down on black ice. A few miles later John got his front wheel stuck in a groove in the shoulder of the highway we were riding on and went down pretty hard too. That was three, whew, so the rest of us were now safe.

We hopped up onto the course under perfect skies with not a cloud or hint of moisture in the air, but the course was a harsh New Jersey deja vu: big green field with a track of thick mud: the mud was the course. And the course video that I posted on the site a few days ago doesn't do it justice because you couldn't see its topography: the first half of each lap winds up several hundred feet to the top of a hill and then last half winds back down to the finish, and with all that "oily" mud you could hardly negotiate all the switchback and corners on the bike.... NOOOOOOO! Yeah, I was bummed and instantly wrote off my chances at a win, this was a runners course.

Two hours later the sun and wind had dried out the course and the hundreds of racers out there packed down the mud to a smooth grippy track: sweet, I'm back in! It was amazing how fast an almost unridable course dried out and how equally as fast my fragile race emotions changed. I spent the day at the course yesterday reveling in the National race scene and watching dozens of junior and masters racers crowned. For now I can only hope.

Today's the day, and as long as there is no rain I am going with the overly optimistic idea that I am the man to beat on this day. This really is a good course for me, but I'm not the only one.

Annie says there has been an outpouring of support from friends and family, and I want to say thanks! I appreciate the support which really amounts to a justification that following my dreams is worthy, and win or lose its been a great dream to chase.

Its race time! Actually, breakfast time. Then stretch time, get to the course time, warm-up time, THEN race time.

This Just In From KC...

It's snowing!

This wasn't in the forecast and so it just can't be happening. Moisture has not been my friend this year and I'm cautiously expecting it to stop any second. Wunderground tells me that the forecast is dry, so again, it can't be happening, yet I'm watching the white stuff hit the deck and quickly fizzle into a shiny wet glimmer on the pavement outside the hotel.

The hotel! When I left Seattle a few hours ago I wasn't sure where I was staying this weekend, I had absolutely nothing planned and was pulling a Dougie by waiting until the actual last second. But I had friends from all four winds rolling into KC this weekend and I knew something would turn up, and lo-and-behold, I had a message from an ABQ buddy on my phone when I touched down in Denver that they had space. Moments after landing in KC I found out exactly which hotel and had a bead on a shuttle from the airport, so I'm glad that I held off on renting a car too. I just checked-in and the room is mine until John and Dave arrive from their 10-hour drive from NM... they are still a few hours out and say that its clear and dry where they are at. Yeah, this snow really isn't happening.

To all my fans who are anxiously awaiting my next update and have my page set on a 10-second auto reload, I bid you adieau and goodnight, and until my next update... pray for dry!

For Nationals Updates...

Here is a link to the official daily blog of the CX National Championships. Hoping that they will be posting the results as they come, but we'll see. Stay tuned... Natz Blog!

Just One More: Natz on Sat!

Did I say, "just" one more? I think not: this is the ONLY one that ever mattered. All the flats, dropped chains, bike and body mechanicals mean nothing to me. I laugh in the faces of those evil beings who thought that these mere triffling catastrophes could bring me down. I will look as good as Kian does in the stars and stripes.

Easy does it, little buddy, don't get ahead of yourself. You're well aware of the odds of actually pulling this off, especially given your recent track record, and very much because of the formidable competition that you'll be up against. From the start list there are at least 8 dudes that could beat you on any given day. If it were just about who wanted it most it might boost your odds a little, but even so, I know there are guys training their asses off in fairer climes than Seattle for this one.


This year I'm doing it from the front row!

The excitement is finally beginning to build, and despite last weekends mechanical debacles in the final USGP's of the season, I'm way more hopeful than expected!

For over a month now I have written off furthering my fitness as a lost cause. I didn't have the time and fell into some despair at how my fitness slumped and I thought my only chance at improving my fitness was to do nothing, yes, nothing. I carried my peak into the early CX season but slowly my results waned despite my constant training, and so I decided that maybe its all been too much and my body actually needed a break. It was a refreshing realization, actually, to just say screw it and "enshallah", and so just let my fitness and my results happen. I guess I ceased to care. Thinking about it now as I type, perhaps I let my equipment go into decline too along with my apathy, because I've had quite a long string of mechanicals that have cost me a whole lot of places. Maybe, maybe not, but this past weekend I proved that I did still have some good speed and with a little luck, a strong back and a good race, I can still win this thing!

At Nationals, for me, its winner take all. I was 6th last year and this year I'd just assume take a mechanical DNF while racing to win than settle for just another spot on the podium. Yes, it would be nice consolation, but I want the jersey!

Kian thinks I can do it, and he's already slipped into his mock-up stars-and-bars skinsuit just like daddy will wear.

Below is a video of this years Nationals course, and from the looks of it, and combined with the weather forecast, I'm stoked: looks FAST and dry to me! Beware: boring to watch unless you would appreciate the intricacies of a fast and grassy course. Maybe even boring for you: its no USGP PDX.

Stumped in Stumptown

What's wrong with this picture?
There's mud, there's blood, there's NO beer!

I don't want to talk about it, okay!

I'm tired of looking backwards, and am having to become the optimist these days, always looking for that thread of hope on the horizon. But at this point I only have one race left with which to place these hopes. And it just so happens its the only race on the calendar all year that has really mattered: Natz!

Instead, let's just talk about the first 1/3 or 1/2 of the Portland USGP races this past weekend. Lets just say that on Saturday at about 2-3 laps into the 6 lap race that I was winning! Yeah, I kicked everyone's butt... until I rolled that tubie. Are you familiar with this acronym: DNF?

Day 3 I won the first lap and I won at a few points on subsequent laps, but lap 3 I dropped my chain, lap 4 I dropped a pedal (yes, pedal), and lap 5 I dropped all the air in one tire. I was the 5th loser on the day.

Front and center start: no excuses possible.

Aha, there's me off the front with Wissink.

There's DQ off the front (of this picture).

Shane railin it!

Kian has the Daddy Done Me Wrong blues
(or is Daddy just projecting?)