Assorted Snobbery: Cleared

My doctor called me today in order to give me the results of the tests on my various bodily fluids. I like my doctor because he listens. Not in the passive "mmm hmmm" 'I hear you but am not really listening' cliche way people speak of when it comes to doctors, but in the "this guy is paying attention and we're having an actual conversation and my input is valued" sort of way.

He also seems to take really good notes because he ticked through all of the concerns Mrs. Snob and I had one by one, even the ones we threw in from deep left field. You can't take good notes without paying attention.

"So, to sum it all up, you're fine. I think your problems sleeping have finally caught up with you. Spend time sleeping in or getting to bed earlier if you can. Eat whole foods. You'll come back pretty quick. Have you wife pay attention to your sleep. We might want to test that, but otherwise you're good."

"So, your saying I'm a wimp?"

Laughs. "No, I'm saying you're worn out."

I laugh. "Isn't that the same thing?"

"No. Do you have a history of paranoia?" You could hear the grin in his voice.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Of course it is. I'm a doctor."

I laughed so hard my eyes watered. I love my doctor.

If I end up taking that test, at least I'll have bad music and worse magazines to put me to sleep.

An MTB Season in Review

Between having the energy of a turnip and Butch emailing me about his recent updates to the Cycleworks Site, I spent some time this weekend taking stock of 07 and continuing to consider how to schedule 08.

The CV for 2007 ended up looking like this:

Ouachita Challenge: 14th SS.
TransIowa: T-7th SS. T-16th Overall.
Dirty Kanza: 2nd SS. 10th Overall.
Branched Oak 12hr: Team 1st Overall w/ Corey.
Lumberjack 100: 20th SS. 79th Overall
24hrs of Nine Mile: DNF.
Manawa 12hr: 1st Overall. Unlimited Class.
24hrs of Landahl: 1st Expert Class. 3rd Overall w/ Mod, Nate and Sam, aka The Evil Unicorns.

I feel like that list should be longer, but I think it's all there. Now for 2008? There always seems to be something that stick in my craw over the winter and gets the bulk of my focus. Last off-season was evenly divided between TI and 9 Mile. This off-season, 9 Mile is already front and center in my mind.

Simply put, I think I choked on single track for most of this year. So, along with the continual, sometimes futile effort to shrink my carcass, more true single track seems to be called for in prepping for 2008.

Besides, anyone who regularly reads this blog has to be tired of me bitching about my lack of skills when riding rocks. I know I am.

As far as the rest of 08, only a return of the Evil Unicorns (destination unknown) has seen pencil turn to pen, but I am looking forward to figuring out the rest over the next few months.

Nebraska CX Day One

Side Notes: I made this with Windows Movie Maker which I found to be brutal. I'll be switching over to the Mac for Day Two. It will be my own little PC vs. Mac experiment (even though I am already bias.)

Assorted Snobbery: Mono-tonal

Visited the good doctor yesterday and got the wonderful news that I either have mono or a "very mono-like" virus that has been going around. I then proceeded to pass out bodily fluids like welfare cheese. Apparently, the ladies who work the lab don't find the Snob very funny. As I walked in, I noticed one reading a People magazine whose big cover story was, "Diva? or Down to Earth." I sat down and said, "Just to be upfront, I'm a Diva." I barely get a grin in return and she starts asking me my name and SS#. As we're going through the motions, I look at the computer screen in front of me and can see from the task bar that someone has a Duran Duran webpage up. As the my pulse starts filling up the vile, I go for it again with, "Okay, who's been Googling Duran Duran?" A second nurse gets a shitty look on her face and snarls, "It's better than today's music." Now I am the one who's laughing, but keep the assorted comments flying through my head to myself. Gotta know your audience, but the temptation to ask her if her name was 'Rio' was strong. Mrs. Snob thinks their attitude was "chops" prejudice.

Test results should comeback today.

SuperFan Powers: Activate!!

Check the dismount!! Though for some reason, "I hate you guys" was Charlie's refrain when she passed us.

Since I couldn't jog around the Microtel with the Radman this morning, I switched to SuperFan mode and headed back to Swanson with Mrs. Snob and Rad, intent on using my new Sergeant Hulka voice to full effect. If you can't race with your bros, it's time to get your yell on.

With a sprint finish and a few "race within the race" pairings, it was a good day. More good footage as well so stay tuned for that and check http://www.nebraskacyclingnews.com/ for results.

Sir Wilhelm warms up business casual.

One Lap Wonder

Only managed a bit over a single lap today.  Felt a bit off mid-day yesterday and that carried through to today.  Suffered for a while but when my throat starting burning in a decidely unracelike way, I hoped a curb and pulled out.  It is what it is.

Switched to superfan mode with a lot of pics and vids being taken.  Hope to put something together during the week.  Isn't that what YouTube is for?

Tomorrow is an unknown.  I'll let the morning decide.

Operation Degradation

With the race categories for the first weekend in Nebraska's Cross series a little tough to decipher for the Killer B in me, I've decided to follow some training advice Sam gave me a couple of years ago and "go until I puke." I know I'll get my ass handed to me. The only question will be how hard my hands will be shaking when it happens.

Photoshop Addiction

In an effort to help get some stylish t-shirt designs rolling for War Axe, Mrs. Snob and I recently downloaded a 30 day trial of Adobe Photoshop. I know Photoshop is old hat for some, but if you like to dabble in the artistic and aesthetic, Photoshop will suck you into a blackhole.

Inspired by 'A Poet's Life.'

Spooky Cross Blitzkrieg

Breaking my unwritten and highly questionable rule regarding miles driven for time raced, Nate, Corey, Jesse P, and I drove to Cumming, Iowa for Spooky Cross today. With Corey planning an article on the trip for the Lincoln Ve-Low, I'm opting for the tightly focused version as a race recap.

Nate's description of our effort as a cross "blitzkrieg" was spot-on. We arrived roughly 25 minutes before the start. This was just enough time to register, kit-up and spin a touch before the start of the race. I rode down the starting road a bit, into a short section of the completed mudded-out grass and back up to the start. Since I am a notoriously slow starter when actually warmed up, I perched at the back of the Killer B's as we toed the line. Nate joined me and we laughed about standing at the back, but the word that a first lap prime providing a pair of Oakley Radar's to the winner had Jesse moving to the front prior to the gun. I kept smiling and stayed put. No one was quite sure of where Corey was and we assumed he was already at the front.

At the gun, Nate and I started weaving our way forward. He jumped through a lot of people before we hit the mud but I eased back, which was a mistake as the group came to a crawl with riders unsure of how fast to hit the transition from road to soup.

Anything not road was rain-soaked bog. I was over-geared (as were Nate and Corey) at 38x16 and just started mashing. With no preride or warmup, I was tentative and the legs were pretty unhappy. A long section of the course followed a lakeside path, followed by a long climb that would have been rideable dry, but not in the soup and not with my gear. I slogged away and tried to stay patient hoping to get loose and make up some ground as my body got into gear.

Near the end of the lap was an intentional run-up with small 2x4s being used to keep people from riding it. This also would have been rideable on a dry day but was certainly a run-up today. As I topped out, I was shocked to see Corey coming around me. At this point, both my hamstrings were on the edge of something dismal and a brief exchange with Corey lead him to say, "Spin it out." "I can't," was my reply, which was more of a "how the fuck am I suppose to do that?" in tone.

Somewhere passed the halfway point of my second lap, my body returned a bit, I felt confident in the muck and dropped a few fellow back of the pack riders primarily with my riding in the mud and an improved approach to running, along with my mounts.

Halfway through the last lap I had one more carrot left ahead of me, but then I got lapped by the lead riders and got frustrated. By the time I got my head out of my ass, I had to let the brakes completely go on the muddy downhill heading straight for the lake and nearly took a swim because of it. I cruised it in from there for an unknown finishing spot. We also saw "The Jackal" who seemed to be riding strong and finished on the lead lap.

I am a bit fuzzy on everyone's spots from there. Jesse P hit the podium in 3rd or 4th. Nate was roughly 8th and Corey, who rolled the largest gear of all of us was somewhere around 10th. Syd also toed the line, possibly in 9th? You might check other spots for further (and accurate) results as Mark and Troy Krause were also there to enjoy some time in the soup.

If only it's rider knew what to do with it.




No mud on the bibs? I am sure the backside's not as pretty.

Corey, what the fuck are you doing?

The Head Tilt

With an eye on Nebraska's CX Season, I've been trying to put in some harder intensity in order to keep for coming completely unglued when the gun goes off. With a throwaway race this weekend, I tried to crank it up before work this morning. About 25 minutes or so in, I could feel my head start leaning over to the left as the pain monkey climbed higher and higher onto my back. Before long, my left ear may as well have been resting on my shoulder.

The headtilt. At some point, after scientist's have unlocked such genetic mysteries such as disease control and what causes boys to jump up and slap door overhangs, some incredibly bored scientist is going to search the double helix for why so many bike racers seem dress their helmet to one side while inside the pain cave.

Of course, they still won't be able to test for performance enhancing drugs with any clarity, but at least will have some completely superficial concern solved.

Snobbish Aside. If you were in the European peloton, why not take a sample of your own each time you were tested? Have some viable third party hold your golden glow, marked and labelled. If the UCI or other concern claims they've got you and you know your clean, you pull out item number two. Have it tested with your lawyer's present and tell them to fuck off. Of course, there is probably some problem with this. Expense. Against the rules. Who knows. It would be interesting though to pull out your own C sample. Of course part two, you would really have to be clean.

Das Commute

I decided for no good reason to document the commute this morning. The only rule was that all pics had to be taken rolling and posted in order. Typical, somewhat boring, slice of life.

Obligitory Shadow Shot


Rolling near downtown.

Fire Drill? No, Fire Safety.

Which side is the wrong side?

Saltcreek. East of 27th.

Nothing says TI and Kanza like Casey's.

North 56th. Brace for passing semi's.

ecommerce wizardry in the house.

and done.

Knowing the Score

"It's always best when things get whittled down," I said.
"which doesn't mean it's simple," I added.

There wasn't much to say for a while after that. It was 3am. Tired from an evening boiled down to conversation, vinyl and a turn-table. Boiled down like so many times before. Immediate. Simple. Shared.

Like Chicago with it's studio apartments, bands in small bars, drums set on milk crates and Maker's Mark mornings. Crouching in the corner of the practice space. Not saying a word. Not playing a note.

Always the music, always the friends, often the booze.

And for hours it had been gone. Amid the punk and the guitars and the beats. I had forgotten. It wasn't until I was on the couch that it filtered back. The anger that floats in and leaves like a dull breeze in summer.

4am came and slowly I remembered. You can't warn someone about something they already know. Everything boils away to nothing, eventually.

"So it was a good night?" she asked.
"It was."

Jesse Hits Velonews

Just opened the new issue of Velonews. Hincapie on the cover. Hit the Table of Contents and my eyes draw to an all too familiar face. Page 92. "Single Minded."

Congrats Jesse. You earned it.

If I Were A Plastic Wristband...

...I'd be happy to be a "Motherfucker from Hell":

More Questions Than Answers

While I couldn't be more excited for Cross season, this is still the time of year when your mind wanders to next season and thoughts of what races keep you excited and what goals you'd like to acheive.

Next year hasn't really come into focus in the way this year was defined long before the calendar actually flipped to 2007. TransIowa and 9 Mile dominated the off-season landscape. Nothing sits out there in the same way for 2008.

Instead, I'm just asking myself a lot of questions.

The 100 miler series? It would require upping my technical game so I am not wasting so much energy on the bike. Maybe a stage race? Pricey but worth it once? I'm also into the idea of trying the Vapour Trail despite the altitude disadvantage.

Then there's the Evil Unicorns... what 24 will we show our casually competitive faces at next year?

As always, suggestions welcome.