That felt good!

I already know I didn't blog last night, but it's only because I fell asleep on the couch again at 9:00 after I got my daughter to bed. It's been a long week and it caught up with me.

I got up this morning and cooked breakfast for my daughter and made my cappuccino, before scrambling to get ready for the Weekend Worlds... the Chili's Ride. This morning broke sunny and clear, with lots of standing water and wet roads. The temp was cool but the skies were not black with clouds... it was a perfect morning to ride! I got out the door with barely enough time to ride down and catch the small first group of the Chili's group (one of the local Saturday group training rides). I got down the hill and caught them as they were passing, so I whipped a U-turn and joined them. It was a small but dedicated group. After a little rolling, we were eventually caught by another group doing the same ride and our numbers grew to around 12- 15 riders. Again, much smaller than the usual 40+ riders, but it was a quality group of dedicated riders.

Even though I only had a granola bar and a cappuccino in my belly, my legs were feeling pretty healthy and once the caffeine began to wear off a little, my heart rate settled down a bit. The early accelerations came at the usual spots they always do with the usual suspects, but I was able to stay with the group and even help push the pace a few times. At roughly the midway point of the ride, the first "climb" to challenge our legs came and I was pleased to hang with the leaders much longer than usual. I crested the climb within sight of the leaders and in about 6th place. For me, that was a very good effort. I mean... I started the day at 208.2lbs... not exactly my climbing weight yet. After the climb, we stopped at our usual spot to regroup and refill water bottles. As we rolled off, we laughed about how massively outnumbered I was for the final sprint by my friends on the Adams Avenue Bikes team... about 8 of them against me. We rolled off laughing about how they were going to gang up on me and make it impossible for me to privateer the sprint. Truthfully, I agreed with them- the numbers were NOT in my favor, at all.

We rolled off towards our date with destiny and the final major sprint of Weekend Worlds. I put in a short, but legitimate pull for a few Km on the front... earning my keep in the group. As we headed down the long final few miles of rolling roads toward the sprint, my sprinter's nerves got all tingly with excitement... even knowing how improbable my chances were. The group was rotating well, with the AAB guys drilling the front fairly well to maintain a good tempo. It was clear they owned the ride. I tried to maintain my position in the front group, sitting third wheel as often as I could. As sometimes happens, we hit the final light of the road with a red light and had to slow to a near stop before the light changed and we were able to roll off with a fresh regrouping at the front with new AAB legs to set tempo for the finale!

Two weeks ago, with less ready legs, I was in roughly the same spot- riding the wheels of the leadout- when I nailed a pothole and double flatted. That image kept playing in my mind as I told myself to not repeat that sad performance. When we finally passed the offending potholes, I felt a lot safer, but also knew that the sprint was coming in a few more pedal strokes. I was still in third wheel as the AAB guys, including my friend C-Murder (Chris Michels of Focus Bikes), began to give it the final wind-up. When the lead rider pulled off and Chris began to wind up a sprint/ leadout for their big fast man Everett Hauser who was behind me, I knew I had to go or get swamped. I launched my sprint, deep in the drops and knuckling through the gears with my SRAM shifting (a sprinter's best friend). I was out of the saddle and flogging my scandium bike with all the power I could give the pedals. The chain lagged slightly dropping from the 12t down to the 11t, but once the shift was complete I gave it all I had left- which wasn't much- and ran for the finish with open road ahead of me... and heavy breathing behind me. I allowed myself the chance to peer back behind me through my legs to see that I had the sprint won and crossed the imaginary line with my arms held high! The "victory salute" was half joking with my friends and half honest and sincere elation. I don't know if this is the first time I have won a sprint like this since my crash nearly two years ago, but it was certainly the most satisfying if it wasn't!

After the sprint, my legs were wobbly noodles and my heart rate was damn near hummingbird speed... but I had won. I had won with terrible odds against me and good friends dead set against letting me win. Afterwards, there was plenty of discussion about how unlikely the win had been and how a lesson had been taught by a wily veteran. I admit I was very pleased with myself!

We added an extra few miles to the ride and rode up and over the 52HWy, which is a nasty 4+ mile climb! The group quickly dropped my exhausted ass and put a few KM gap into me as I settled into the best pace I could maintain. We regrouped at the bottom of the descent and I helped Chris with a flat, holding his impressively light Focus Izalco Milram team edition bike. We chatted about the sprint as I told them they'd gotten their revenge dropping me so easily on the climb.

Andrew and I rolled off through the Mission Trails park as the others rolled up and over the Mission Gorge climb. We chatted about our relative lack of condition and about life, etc. We nursed each other along on the final few miles, lending encouragement and support. We enjoyed the sun and lack of rain, though we were drenched to the bone and covered in mud from the water and debris all over the roads of the day's ride.

As we split to go to our respective homes, I was reminded of why it is that I love to ride bikes. Time with friends, healthy competition and a desire to force myself to dig just a little deeper. The ride had been an incredible one on many levels. It was so great to have that first feeling of truly getting something of my old legs back beneath me. Getting a "win"- even if the only prize is bragging rights for a week and the right to give my friends grief for not being to able to keep me from winning the sprint- is such an emotional boost. I'm a long way from being where I want to be, but sticking with the riding during lunch this week as it dumped rain on me, paid off and helped build the base for more miles.

I love riding a bike. I love riding a bike with my friends. I'm glad I keep coming back from these setbacks and frustrations again and again. I'm glad I haven't given up yet. I'm glad I'm actually motivated to buy my racing license again and contemplating racing in a few weeks against riders far better trained and prepared.

I hope your rides this weekend- or whatever it is you like to do- inspire you too. In the end, it's great to be alive and have friends... even friends who can't seem to keep me from winning a sprint that really should've been theirs! (I kid... I kid... sorta...)

Tim

Saturday Miscellaneous

1) Today is my wife's birthday. She's the cutest pregnant girl in San Diego at the moment. At 6 mos, she's very much starting to show, but she heads to the pool at the YMCA every morning and gets in a 1500 to 2000M swim nearly every day. We just got back from a nice lunch at Point Loma Seafoods and then a walk along the water in Point Loma, at the Cabrillo National Monument. We had some great clam chowder in sourdough and then walked and enjoyed the summer... I mean winter... sunshine. There's a pretty good surf swell coming through at the moment, so the view along the coast was pretty spectacular. She's beginning to enjoy life in San Diego, though she certainly misses home in Taiwan and her family. I'm blessed to have her here- something I do not take for granted.

2) I rode with the usual group of agitators on the Chili's Ride this morning. Unlike last week, rather than test my legs right from the beginning, I sat in the front group and stayed out of the wind instead of trying to get into the thick of things and go with attacks. Last week I was done in the first 40 minutes, so I wanted to relax this week and see if a week of riding would help me stay in things until the end.

I managed to stay out of trouble, for the most part, and was in the lead group over the first small "climb/ hill" through La Jolla Village. Once over that bump, I sat in and recovered until we hit the downhill into Sorrento Valley. Once on Sorrento Valley Rd, I was hanging on for dear life as the pace picked up and we went up the long incline before heading to Carroll Canyon. I managed to stay in the front group again, but it was by luck only. Once we hit the real hill of Carroll, I was shot out the back of the lead group and struggled to finish the climb in the top 20. Thankfully I had a minute to rest at the regroup spot before we headed along Mira Mar to Kearny Villa Rd. I started off a little further back than I like, but I was chatting with a guy who knew some friends of mine and was having fun before the fireworks started. Eventually, the entire Adams Avenue Bike Shop team hit the front and made life harder for me. I managed to work my way back to the front again, sitting in nicely in the group and staying out of the wind. As we got closer to the final big sprint, the sprinter's instincts began to kick back in, like Pavlov's poor dogs hearing a bell, and I began sizing up the sprinters in the group- looking for my free ride to the finish. As we got really close, I was sitting nicely and my senses were in "go mode". The move came with a jump of acceleration on the front, just two wheels ahead of me and then it happened... I nailed the deep, sharp-edged pothole that the rider in front of me dodged with a very loud "thwack". It sounded like I broke the frame! But no "pop" of the tires, so I thought I was safe and jumped back on the wheel ahead after a quick glance at my wheels. I wound it up and was feeling like I might even have a chance sitting in third wheel of the train... and then I could hear the sound of aluminum rim on asphalt as the front tire finally went flat after the pothole.

With the wheel totally flat, I pulled off to the left to the center median and let the group go by... quietly cursing my bad luck. I'd flatted in nearly the same spot from a piece of glass about a year earlier, with a similarly good shot at the sprint. As they say in France, c'est la vie. Fortunately, James- a rider with the Jamba Juice team and truly nice guy- stopped to make sure I had all I needed for the flat and to keep me from riding alone. I fixed the front flat and we thought we were ready to roll away... until I noticed the rear tire was now also flat! DOUBLE PINCH FLATS! That sucks! Since I was not out of tubes, James gave me one of his and saved me from having to walk the 10 miles home or call for a ride. Needless to say, I was very grateful he stopped. We finished up the ride and stopped by Adams Ave- I bought 2 tubes and a patch kit, giving one of the tubes back to James.

In the end, outside of the flats, it was an excellent ride and I was super happy to have been in the heat of the sprint before flatting. I don't know if I had the power to finish it off, but considering that I was so shelled out last week, it was a moral victory to even be trying to sprint!

Ride stats; 2:05:16, 18.7av/43.1mx MPH39.16mi, 72av/ 122mx RPM, 146av/ 183mx HR. Started morning at 208lbs (ugh...) and came home at 206.8... still way too heavy (fat), but getting better than the 215 I allowed myself to balloon back up to.

3) This weekend is also my team's mini training camp in LA at team HQ. Due to work issues, I wasn't able to attend this weekend's camp, but I'll be there in February (I hope) for the second mini camp and a chance to meet the team and hopefully offer guidance to some of our younger riders. Team Becher+ has been my home for the past 4+ years and I am very happy to be part of such a great group. Have a great camp guys and gals!

Heading to my wife's birthday dinner at my mom's very soon, so I'll see you kids later; don't spill anything on the rug while I'm gone. NO POPCORN ON THE COUCH!!

Tim