Well, it’s been a long time since I’ve posted.  I haven’t had the heart.  There are two things to note.

Sunrise Century
I rode the Sunrise Century a couple of weeks back.  The ride is 100 miles and 7000+ vertical feet.  It was a kick!  I finished in just under 6 hours, which I guess is a real good time.  Below is a picture about 15 miles in to the ride.  You can see the Flatirons above Boulder in the background.

No Mount Evans Race
I will not race Mount Evans.  I need to travel to Jacksonville, FL that week.  I feel like it’s a bit of a cop out – I could race, but my flight doesn’t get in until late Friday and I’d need to get up at 5 o’clock on Saturday to drive to Idaho Springs.  I don’t want to race after being a sea level w/ no training for a week. 

It’s a bummer — it’s the whole reason for this stupid blog.  Anyway, I’m not in shape for the race.  I’ve put a lot of focus on my job and things just aren’t happening.  I guess that’s life.

That said, I really need to have some challenge, so I’m going to see if I can get a speed skating goal together for this winter (ha, ha, ha) and then tackle Mount Evans next year (yeah, right). 

We’ll see….

Saturday, I spent 2.5 hours mountain biking south of Boulder.  Boulder County opened up the Dowdy Draw open space to mountain bikes this spring.  It has a fun single track with a couple of stream crossings, some tricky technical sections and one steep climb.

On Sunday, I decided to ride to Ward, CO.  I took Lee Hill Road out of Boulder, which then drops into Left Hand Canyon and then heads up to Ward.  I’d never done this.  I’d always ridden to the mouth of Left Hand Canyon and started from there. 

Funny thing is that Lee Hill Road turns out to be 11% grade for I don’t know how far.  It’s a bugger of a climb.  I think Lee Hill tops out around 8,000 feet.  The road then descended to Left Hand Canyon – I’m guessing – at around 6,000 feet where the road climbs for about 10 miles at 4% grade and then hits the 11% grade wall into Ward, which is at 9,450 feet. 

The whole ride was about 65 miles and maybe 7,000 feet of climbing. (I don’t know how accurate these numbers are… just best guesses, but I think I’m close.  Well I know the mileage….)

Again, I rode big gears all weekend, but I actually felt OK and the heart rate started to respond.  After 3+ hours of riding Sunday, I was able to maintain 20+ MPH up Arapahoe Road (I’m guessing 2% – 3% grade for around 2 miles) into Louisville.

More importantly, I had fun. 

Since I’ve been resting, I’ve noticed how much I really miss skating.

Cycling is fun — but it doesn’t have the same amazing, intangible quality as skating.

I wish I had immediate and constant access to ice, but I don’t. I can skate short track, but it’s not quite the same.

Outdoor inline is a blast, too. Especially when you’re in a good double-push rhythm.

That said, my friend Pat Naylor – an incredible master’s skater, and 1998 X-Games Downhill Inline Champion – called me today about buying a pair of Bont Jet skates.

Pat can order them for me, but I just don’t know if I want to spend the money. I don’t know what to do…

Anybody, anybody?

This Memorial Day weekend, I went on some fun rides, but nothing structured.  But who cares?  Today, I’m thinking about the meaning behind this holiday.

I have a good friend in Afgahnastan right now.  He’s away from his wife and two boys.  To boot, his wife is pregnant with their third child.  This friend is one of the most impressive people I’ve ever met.  I have so much respect for him.  I pray that I never need to remember him on this day; I pray he comes home safe.

That said, and for whatever it’s worth, my body still isn’t feeling right.  I think I’m OK with my season being over.  It doesn’t matter.  I’m too busy with family and work to focus on riding, skating or anything.

I’m still riding quite a bit – all of it fun; none of it hard.  I’m pushing big gears to keep the heart rate down.  This weekend, I did the following: a 50-mile mountain bike ride in the foothills south of Boulder, CO; a 60-mile road ride up to Jamestown, CO (easy 8-mile climb); and a 2.5 hour ride kicking around local trails.

Maybe things will come around – who knows?  And once again, who cares?

I think my body is telling me that I’m done for the year.

I’m not sure what’s happening.  I’m actually considering going to the doctor — if you know me, you know that’s a big deal.  But my body is not right.  My heart rate isn’t responding, and I just want to sleep.

I know it sounds like I’m overtrained, but I’ve been overtrained before and this sure doesn’t feel like overtraining.

“I once thought I had mono for an entire year. It turned out I was just really bored.”
Waynes World, 1992

(Yep… another Waynes World quote.  Sorry….)

Anyway, I’m going to just start playing around a bit on the mountain bike, and I’m thinking of buying new inline skates.  That will help me see if whatever is wrong goes away, find out if I’m just mentally done or what.

That said, Mount Evans isn’t going to happen this year.  Even if I do the race, I won’t be anywhere near where I want to be from a “time” perspective.  So, I’ll just see what happens, try to regroup and then tackle that monster next year.

So, I raced on the new group this weekend.  Not a single dropped gear.  Everything is nice and light and smooth. 

I’ll take a picture of the drive-train while it’s still nice and clean.  Then I’ll post it here.

(So, my bike is fixed… now I just have to fix me. :-))

My bike has been slowing falling apart.  And I’ve been complaining for too long.

At the Lookout Mountain HC last weekend, I had mechanical issues with my bike.  My bike kept dropping gears, there was a weird rattle somewhere in the bottom bracket, etc. 

The issues didn’t affect my time more than a couple of seconds here and there, but with how poorly I climbed that day, it didn’t make a spit of difference.

So, with the Sunshine HC this weekend — and whatever goals I have for the rest of the year – yesterday it was time to put up or shut up.

Last night, I dropped my bike off at Excel Sports to have a new 10-Speed Campy Chorus group installed.  In addition, I’m looking to buy a better wheel set.

Maybe I should have bought an entire new bike, but I couldn’t decide on what I want, so I compromised with new components.

We’ll see what the results will be. 

(I think I’m also going to buy a new pair of Bont Jet Inline Skates… just for grins.)

It’s time to think positive.

Driving home today, I thought of some moments in the past where everything grooved so nicely.   Below are just some of the moments that popped into my head.

• Freestyle Wrestling Championships
  When I was 18, I signed up for the Idaho State Freestyle Wrestling Championships.  I was an OK high-school wrestler at best… and I’d never wrestled in a freestyle tournament.   I won my first match.  In my second match, I was paired against a wrestler from Pocatello High School.  I’d wrestled him maybe three times in high school — and he beat me handily every time.  A minute or so into the first round, he shot in on my legs, but I caught him in a cattle catcher and threw him.  In freestyle, if you’re thrown and both shoulders hit the mat at the same time, it’s an immediate pin.  Well, I pinned him.  It was a beautiful moment.  I had a bye into the final match where I was beaten on points.  I still have the silver medal from that tournament.
   
• Swinging High Bar after Coaching
  In college, I coached a local gymnastics team.  After practice, I would stick around and play.  I always struggled with high bar when I was competing.  But now that I was just playing, I found that I was able to do with ease what I used to find difficult — I can’t explain the sensation.  Those evenings, I just swung and it was just sweet.
   
• 10K Training for 2007 Champions Challenge
  Speed skating is a mystery to me.  I love trying to figure out how to do that sport.  One training session sticks in my mind.  I started “10K Fridays” where I would come to the ice and skate a couple of 25-lap sets in preparation for the 10K at the Champions Challenge.  I wanted to break 15 minutes in the 10K.  (I did end up racing a sub-15 minute 10K.)  But more importantly, at one of those training sessions, everything came together in an incredible groove.  I timed myself at 14:26 skating both inners and outers with no drafting.  It was so smooth, the glide came so effortless.  Don’t get me wrong — it hurt, but there was just something so relaxing about those 25 laps.
   
• 3K Speed Skating Time Trial
  I didn’t even finish the best race of my life.  It was a 3K speed skating time trial.  I was paired with a Norwegian National Team member.  I don’t even remember who.  I just remember being close to him after the opening 200 meters.  Then I proceeded to skate three relaxed 30-second laps.  I don’t know how much longer I could have held it, but I know I wasn’t struggling, yet.  Going into the fourth lap, the Norwegian came over the top – it was so cool to still be with him after 1,400 meters – but I didn’t notice he was there until it was almost too late.  I had to change direction quickly not to take him out.  In the process I fell and slid the entire backstretch.  I laughed the entire slide.  I didn’t care.   For the first time in my life (and the last), I skated at a truly elite level both technically and physically.  When I think back on speed skating, that is my best moment.
   
• 2002 Winter Park Hill Climb
  I drove to Winter Park with my family for a Mountain Bike hill climb at the ski resort.  I registered for the sport group.  And instead of warming up, I played with my son Dane — I was having so much fun, I almost missed the start.  Finally, I heard the call to the line and took my place at the back of the pack.  The start was on a fire road so there was plenty of room to move up.  So when the gun sounded, I sprinted to the front.  And I just kept going.  My wife told me she just shook her head when she saw me go.  I remember how my legs felt so fresh and how quickly I found a rhythm.  I finished 6th of 70.  This was – without a doubt – the best I’ve ever climbed.
   
• 2004 Cherry Creek Time Trial
  Cherry Creek is my favorite time trial.  It’s 10.5 miles out-and-back on fairly flat roads.  I’ve had a lot of success out there, but one evening I really popped off a good one.  I had the second fastest time of the night… out of all 300+ racers.  I finished in 22:16… only one pro finished ahead of me in 22:08.  I’ll never forget when I caught the guy who started 2 minutes ahead of me.  I saw him, caught him, passed him and raged to the line like mad.  It gave me some serious confidence heading into the State TT, where I won my second championship.

There are many ideas about time and our interaction with it.  And I’ve given it some thought this afternoon.

Some believe time is a circle.  Everthing that happens eventually happens again.  If you’re patient, an opportunity presents itself many times.

Some believe time is a river.  An opportunity presents itself once and then it’s swept away.  Once it’s gone, it doesn’t come back.

Some believe time is just time.  An opportunity presents itself regardless of time.  It appears by chance and disappears without warning.  And you never know if you’ll see it again.

I don’t know what I believe — but I think the opportunity given to me to race well is gone.  And I don’t know if it will come back.  (I added the word “well” to this post on 05/04… I mistakenly left it out in the original post.)

Today’s races were miserable.  I raced the cat 3 group.  I couldn’t get my body or mind engaged.  I climbed Lookout Mountain slower than I did a couple of weeks ago.  Then I raced the 35+ group, and my legs were dead, just dead.

I don’t know what happened.  I could NOT get my heart rate to respond.  And I actually contemplated turning around and going home.  I couldn’t turn the pedals and my legs cramped. 

Mentally I was frustrated because the drive-train on my bike is really going.  I kept dropping gears.  And there’s a funky noise “somewhere.”  Usually, I don’t let these things affect me, but they did today.

I need to clear my mind and my legs. 

I’d like to believe that time is a circle and that the opportunity to race well will present itself once more.  I guess that only time will tell. 

I do know that I can’t give up.  I have to keep trying.

I checked the American Cycling Association website at lunch today.  I wanted to make sure there are no changes to the Lookout Mountain HC tomorrow.  There aren’t, and I’m excited to give it a go.

(But I’m extremely nervous, which is bothering me.  I shouldn’t tie any “self-worth” into this race, or any race.  I’m not a climber, I know I’m not a climber, and it’s a stupid bike race anyway.  But on the other hand, if you’re not nervous, you’re not ready.)

But I digress from the point of this post.

While I was on the website, I looked at next weekend’s race, the Sunshine HC in Boulder, CO.  There was a link to the race website, so I took a gander.

Here’s what I read.

SUNSHINE STATS:
Total Elevation Gain: 3226 feet
Average Ascent Grade: 7.6%
Maximum Ascent Grade: 23.1%
Start Elevation: 5509 feet
Finish Elevation: 8426 feet

“Ex-squeeze me? Baking powder?”
Wayne’s World, 1992

Yep… you read it right, “Maximum Ascent Grade: 23.1%.”  Woohoo, that’s going to be sweet.  I love this kind of a challenge.  And to add to the fun, the last 3.5 miles of the 9.14 miles course are dirt.  (Seriously… this is going to be a blast!)

One small problem – I have a 23-11 casset on my bike.  It would be ”most helpful” to have a 26-12.  I think it’s time to buy a new cassette and upgrade my drive-train in the process.

Here’s hoping for a strong tailwind. :-)