Spring Reflection

I read a couple of things this morning that really made me think, reconsider, and acknowledge what and who is important and why and how.  I am generally an extremely happy person.  The sun was shining on my face this morning through my window.  I cracked that window ever so slightly as to let the cool Colorado breeze surround me and put me back to sleep for another hour or so.  It was a delightful Sunday morning, especially considering the predicted 2 days of bad weather, which culminated with a little wind and a few clouds.  Life is good.  

But life isn’t always so good.  A lot of people are dealing or have dealt with serious issues, whether it is death, relationships, family struggles, financial problems, job-related stress, etc.  I consider myself an extremely lucky person to have had the good fortune I have, and try to remind myself of this on a daily basis.  It was only after reading these articles in the blogosphere that I realized my own need to reflect and appreciate.  I, certainly have not dealt directly with the mourn and loss that some people around me have.  In this year alone I have witnessed the loss of family and friends somewhat from afar and from a removed emotional position.  My main investment at these times has been with the people that were directly affected.  Feeling their pain and trying to understand what they are going through has made me appreciative for all that I have.  It has also made me realize that sometimes biking isn’t the most important thing in my world.  When people close to me are dealing with the loss of a loved one, they couldn’t give two shits about how far I rode today.  They need support, and are dealing with loss in their own way.

This takes me full circle back to the bike.  Everybody deals with pain, stress, love, and loss differently.  For me, the bike is my release.  The bike is what kept me sane while working a boring, mentally numbing, mundane office job in a dirty factory that I hated.  If it weren’t for my after work trail ripping sessions, wherein all of my stress and hate was left on the dirt under my wheels, and the realization that I do have endorphins (they just get buried while sitting in an office chair all day), I probably would have gone insane.  More importantly, I wouldn’t appreciate life as much as I do today.  When my Grandpa, whom I was very close with, died a year and a half ago, the trail again was my release.  I could barely make it into the office that day as I tried to hold the tears back, and upon arriving proceeded to turn right back around and head home.  Little did I know that I would get home, grab my bike, and head straight for the trails at Brown County State Park.  It was almost second-nature; I didn’t think, I just DID.  I can still remember standing at the top of the park at a beautiful viewpoint in which miles of dense forest spreads out below you, with my bike by my side.  The tears had all run dry in the hour that it took to climb to the vista, and I was happy and appreciative once again.  As I dropped back down for another 45 minutes of ripping perfectly groomed Midwestern singletrack, my mind was blank and thoughtless, without worry or stress.  I owe it all to the bike.

So I wanted to take a little time to reflect on what is important to me.  Friends and family, first and foremost, because without them my goals and aspirations cannot be achieved.  As I spend more and more time and energy these days focusing on bike racing and other bike-related endeavors, it is important to take a step back and thank everyone who supports me in this crazy life.  You have to step out of the ego-driven box that you have inevitably stuck yourself in, and realize that there is a whole other world out there, and it’s not always so lovely. 

This is a good time for me to reflect, because soon I may not be able to.  The racing season is quickly approaching, at which point my time will be juggled between racing/traveling, training, and working to somehow fund this money-devouring addiction.  In a few weeks I head to California for the Sea Otter Classic, and hopefully more racing and a WHOLE bunch more riding.   

Oh, and I'm getting super excited for the National Ultra Endurance Series, and this vid doesn't hurt:

Can I actually race for 100 miles?  I don't know, and that is the best part. 

It’s St. Patrick’s Day, and if Grandpa was still here I’m sure we’d be meeting at the local brewery for a pint.  Instead, I’ll have a Dale’s for ya, Grandpa.  Cheers.

PreNAHBS Preview PreTalk PreThoughts

The North American Handbuilt Bike Show, or NAHBS, is happening this weekend in Denver.  Bike nerds rejoice!  This means 3 days of the most beautiful, innovative, creative, wild, wacky, and irresponsible use of bike building skills and materials in North America.  Everything from the most functional Di2 equipped mountain bikes to completely functionless but still lovely in every way works of a custom builders’ imagination.  This is the beauty of NAHBS.  Everything wins.  It’s a mega-art gallery of epic proportions.  Every weird idea that these weirdo bike builders (trust me, they’d appreciate being called weirdos) could drum up in their caffeine and booze-addled minds was then formed, cut, welded, and painted and will be on full display this weekend.  There will be a cornucopia of innovative bikes and ideas, using the newest-to-market standards and components, prototype parts, etc.  There will also be the full onslaught of classic lugged steel road bikes, commuters, track bikes, fat bikes, and hopefully a tricycle or two to feast on.  Frame-building materials will span the entire spectrum of various types of steel, aluminum, carbon, titanium, magnesium, wood, bamboo, etc. etc.

I’ve been to NAHBS twice, and been completely blown away and overwhelmed twice.  I don’t expect this year to be any different.  In fact, given the high concentration of custom bike builders on the Front Range, and in other parts of the west, I expect this year to be the biggest yet.  I think mountain bikes and fat bikes will dominate the spectrum.  And not to brag, but just to boast, it will be pretty cool to have a frame-builder there who is in the process of building me a bike!

I wish I could spend a couple of days immersed in this ocean of bikes, only coming up for a breath of fresh beer before diving back in.  But, as life dictates, NAHBS will be sandwiched in between work, so Saturday is my day to get wet.  It’s Friday.  That means beer.  Cheers.

Catchup and the 2012 Season

Wow, I've been away from the blogosphere for quite some time now.  I have reasons.  Or maybe they're just excuses.  Or maybe it's all just bullshit I've come up with to make myself feel better about not being active in this venue.  Motivation to write about sweet biking excursions has been lacking.  Maybe that's because the abundance of sweet biking excursions has been lacking.  I haven't raced since August.  This kills me.  I shall plan better next year.  Riding has been mostly mundane, hitting the same close-to-home trails that I'm now somewhat bored of.  I am in need of a mountain biking adventure, BAD.  Moab! Sedona!! Can you hear me!!??  But now as I sit here, sick in bed and watching a winter storm move from the mountains into Boulder, it seems like a good time to catch up.

This isn't to say that I haven't been riding.  I've actually been riding a decent amount, very focused on next year, and enjoying a completely different type of riding than I'm used to.  One that involves (semi)skinny tires, curvy handlebars, and road.  Since I picked up a brand spankin' new Kona Jake the Snake about a month ago, my riding options have increased.

Above Ward, CO.

Rides like this have taken precedent.  One of the beauties of the Boulder area is it's close proximity to the mountains, and once a few miles into the mountains there is an endless maze of dirt roads that make for some incredibly riding.  So there has been a lot of on-the-road exploration.  My riding priorities have also changed a bit.  The combination of nothing but sweet mountain biking and this summers' endless journeys, the closing down of some of my favorite riding spots in the mountains, and a new training focus has affected the way I look at riding.  For God's sake, I hope this is a temporary faze.  But in all honesty I've really been enjoying it.  I've been focusing on building strength and power, and so a lot of my rides as of late have been shorter, more high intensity efforts.  Through this I have been really pushing the physical limits of my body.  Learning to dig deeper.  And although the adrenaline rush isn't the same as riding buff mountain singletrack, the payoff in the form of results is very rewarding.  Like I said, I still miss riding good trails like hell. 

Maybe inspiration has been waiting.  I've been waiting for it to come, and don't know if it will.  One thing I've been waiting on is my custom Generic Cycles Ti single speed frame.  Every time I think about it it gives me goosebumps.  But the waiting has been making me a little stir-crazy.  Add this to the fact that I broke my beloved Niner steel SS frame in October and have been singlespeedless since, and I'm getting down-right frustrated. Luckily I heard from Generic a week ago explaining the difficulties they've been having, and assuring me that my bike is on the way.  I've also been waiting to hear back from any of the potential sponsors that I submitted proposals to.  Its exciting and frustrating at the same time.  We'll see what happens.

In the meantime, I wrote a season recap a short while back that I wouldn't mind sharing:

A year ago at this time I was sitting in an office chair twiddling my thumbs and making mouse clicks.  Unfortunately there was more thumb-twiddling than mouse clicks.  The decision to leave Indiana was never easier whilst faced with an uninspiring design position at a company with little future, and a growing passion for cycling with a little grain of racing potential stuck in my teeth.  11 months has gone by and I’m still chewing.  11 of the most life-changing, inspiring, eye-opening, adventurous, self-fulfilling, and exciting months of my life; leaving me hungry for more.

Mountain biking in Colorado took some getting used to.  Or, shall I say, my mountain biking synapse needed to be re-wired.  All I knew was the play-pen that is Brown County State Park.  Perfectly manicured, buff, super-flowy up-and-down well-designed trails.  When I first started in CO I was confined to front-range trails, mostly around the Boulder area.  Anytime I had to jump on double-track, ATV trail, or dirt road, the negative monster in my head started talking.  He said “This isn’t mountain biking! Where’s my singletrack mofo!  Where are my trees and dirt!”  Luckily a couple of trips to Moab, and one to Sedona, were enough to silence the monster.  The mountain biking in these places is so mind-boggling and unique that it’s almost unfathomable until you actually experience it.  Experiencing mountain biking in so many different forms in such a short amount of time has almost done the reverse of painting a new picture; it has wiped my slate clean.  I thought I once knew what mountain biking was.  Now I haven’t a goddamn clue.  I still yearn for the quality trails I used to ride on, but also realize that the possibilities for a good day on the bike are almost endless.  You don’t need singletrack for good mountain biking.  In fact, sometimes single track, if not intended for mountain bikes, is less than ideal; cumbersome, frustrating, flow-less.  Like bad jazz.

I wasn’t even sure about racing mountain bikes until this year, at the end of which I find myself in a whirlwind of inspiration and desire for bigger and better races and places and people.  I didn’t know how I would stack up against the competition in a state known for its mountain biking and outdoor prowess.  I remember telling myself a few weeks before my first race in Colorado, “If I suck at this and it isn’t meant to be, screw it.”  Not that I was giving up, but rather prepared to further pursue the non-race side of the sport; the reasons we all do it in the first place, for the adventure and thrill.  I wasn’t going to wallow in the muck of mid-level racer for years and years.  I’d rather be out riding for fun.  It just so happened that I did well in my first race, and the rest is history.  The seed was planted.  It was an incredible year in which both the racing and adventure sides of the sport seemed to have blended into a sweet intoxicating mixed drink.  An expensive mixed drink at that.  Racing afforded (not fiscally, come on sponsors) me the ability to go to some truly amazing places.  Places that I never would’ve imagined going to a year ago.  Places that I might not have gotten to see if it weren’t for the racing scene in Colorado.  For this I feel incredibly fortunate every day.

My season in review:

I learned a lot this year about racing.  Some mental, some physical, some emotional, some technical.  Mentally, I made strides this year, and continue to do so, that should benefit me forever.  I opened up the box that sets limits and creates fear in your mind.  Kept closed, you convince yourself that you have reached your physical limit or breaking point either in a race or training or riding for fun, that you cannot go any further, any harder, or any faster.  To open this box is to break free of all the barriers and limits your mind is trying to set for you.  In a real-world application, this means continuing to push harder, blocking out the pain, even when you’re deep into the pain cave.  It takes a certain mentality.  You keep digging deeper and deeper in the box, surpassing what you thought was physically possible.  I have just recently realized this very important idea, but if I can continue to keep the box open, there is no limit to how much I may find.

Physically I need to improve in various areas.  Hopefully, with the aforementioned mental improvements, the physical improvements will follow.  I need to get more powerful.  I feel like I lost a lot of power this year.  I don’t own any super-fancy and super-expensive power meters, so I can’t say for sure, but it feels like I have lost some of the pop that I had when riding in Indiana.  This can be attributed to a few things.  Riding at elevation is great for endurance training and increasing your hematocrit, but I believe it has hindered my ability to build power.  In Indiana you have all the oxygen your legs can handle, so you can produce mega power.  At altitude your cardiovascular system is working overtime, but still not able to supply your blood with ample oxygen, therein reducing the amount of oxygen-rich blood going to your legs.  This is my personal theory, but other cyclists seem to concur.  Or I’m just being a wuss.

Nutritionally, I am always trying to improve.  This is maybe the hardest part of the equation, and sometimes the least understood and most neglected by cyclists, or athletes in general.  Simply knowing what types of foods to eat and when can make a huge difference during training, while resting, and during a race.  I still haven’t even come close to figuring out this very nuanced part of the game.  That being said, I think I do better than many in this area, simply because I am conscious of it at all times. 

Emotionally, I think I have taken the right approach to racing.  I ride for fun.  I race for fun.  It’s what I love to do.  This keeps it interesting, exciting, and enjoyable.  Simply “training” all of the time would drive me crazy.  If I’m “training” in Moab though; well, okay.  I also realized this year that having friends and family interested and present at your events makes a huge difference.  It has given me an emotional boost like no other.  Having that support, especially when people went out of their way to be there, is priceless.  I could tell the story of almost coming to tears (during the race) the first time my parents saw me race, but I’ll save it.

To say that I did better than expected this year would be a lie.  I had no expectations.  I didn’t know what to expect from myself, my competition, my equipment, the race courses, etc.  It was all a movie I hadn’t seen before, and I sure enjoyed watching it play out.   Can't wait to see what 2013 will bring.

Candy Store

This weekend saw a trip to the largest bike swap meet in the country, Denver’s VeloSwap.  It is a dangerous place.  Among other things it is a test in temptation and self control.  I passed the test, just barely.  Hey, I could’ve easily emptied my bank account and still left desiring more.  Instead I happened to pick up some much needed essentials at good deals.

I had never seen anything like VeloSwap, and left feeling like I had just taken a 3-hour Calculus final exam.  My brain hurt.  My neck hurt from constant head turning.  My eyes hurt from trying to take in a thousand shiny objects at once. It is nothing more than a candy store for bike nerds.  Didn’t bring enough cash with you?  No worries, there’s two ATM’s in the convention center.  I didn’t know I had attention deficit disorder until going there.  It’s a good thing I went alone, because I would’ve lost any accompaniment in the first five minutes.  It took me about 3 hours to peruse the venue, which consisted of maybe 200 or more vendor tables, each stocked to the max with goodies new and old, from $5000 bike frames to that old Campy piece you’ve never been able to find.  Anything and everything your bike fetish ever desired could be found there. 

I spent more mullah than previously intended, but made a conscious effort to buy what I needed, instead of all that I wanted.  I got some winter lobster finger gloves with Thinsulate, windbreaker fabric and leather palms, for about ¼ the cost of other competitors’ offerings.  

I scored the elusive Cannondale Save carbon fiber seatpost.  Save, as in “save” your tender bits.  Cannondale doesn’t sell these posts separately.  All you have to do to get one is buy a $6000 mountain bike, or go to VeloSwap.  And I got it for about half the price they go for on the Bay.  Now I don’t have to continue to switch my one seatpost between two bikes.  I’m stoked to try it out and see if it flexes as much as advertised.

 

A few other items were haggled down in price and bought.  That is the beauty of VeloSwap; nothing is set in stone.  No prices are firm.  Want to buy the vendors whole table?  Make him or her an offer.  I didn’t pay the “listed” price for anything.  The big score of the day was a new set of high quality hydraulic brakes.  As my new build gets going, I knew that one of my biggest expenses would be the brakes.  I was planning on having to spend in the territory of $600 on a set.  That was, until I came across these babies:

Finally, a real set of brakes.  Out of the dark ages.

 

A brand new set of Magura Marta SL brakes in fancy red, with their fancy self-cooling two-piece rotors as well as the standard rotors.  They were sort of hiding on the guys table when I saw them, and no price was listed.  Upon inquiring about the price, my eyes lit up and certain juices started flowing.  Juice can also double as the flowing of cash out of the ATM machine into my hand.  I then went back and haggled the guy down another $20 on his previously too-low price.  Score.  They are a couple of years old, but still brand new and proven to be a great set of high quality super-lightweight hydraulics.  I can’t wait to give ‘em a try.  They will be much lighter and way more powerful than the Avid BB7 mechanicals I’ve been using since the olden days.  I was planning on putting them on the Niner until my new Generic comes in.  Then the Niner decided to take a break.  More on that later. Review to come.