it would have trashed clinchers too

After getting the race wheels all glued up, it made sense to actually use them in the races last weekend.

Walburg started out calm. That was odd. It was made easier by having Troy start and get in the early break. Wasn't really planning or expecting that, but it was making my day easier, so Troy was my best friend right then.

We neared the end of the first (of 3) 25 mile laps when the front moved through. By "front", I mean weather. Wind shifted to be coming from the north, was colder, and combined with the rain, made for nascaresque viewing excitement. Except that I wasn't in the leather chair watching in on tv, but instead. on a leather saddle right in the middle of the carbon and metal and bone crunching.

I was riding my newly glued up rear wheel, but I used Noah's front wheel since my newly glued front wheel didn't meet my comfort standards. Noah's front wheel had all of three races on it for a total about about 45 miles. It was a new tire, basically.

So, brakes are locked up. Things are sliding around. There's some rodeoing going on. I'm fishtailing. My front wheel is turned 90deg to the left, but I'm sliding (upright) straight ahead. I should be going over the bars or into the ditch. or something.

Somehow, I made it through all that. But then the race got ha-ard. Because the official had to stop with the crash, all but two or three of the racers acted like the teacher was out of the room and were riding in the other lane into oncoming traffic. And there were cars coming. And I was trying to get that thumpthumpthump feeling out of my head as my tires reminded me what I just did at every rotation.

Between those things and the sick feeling I had that I just ruined two $60 brand new, just glued tires...I quit the race. I think I've quit 10 or so races in 28 years of racing (it's well over 750 races. could be closer to 900). maybe 5 of those have been fuggin Walburg.

Then I played with Reanie and Buddy in a cemetary while I watched the rest of the races unfold. Good day for LSW.

Next day was Pace Bend. I thought the entry fee was too steep. Still do, but ultimately, it was super easy because a team kept the race steady and fast for a good chunk of it. Basically, it was like paying $45 for a 3 hr tempo motor pace session, which is less than I would charge. Deal!

Last year the race played out similarly, but with two laps to go, I gambled and went with a strong move that had major players in it. That move didn't work out, and I rolled it in with the pack with nothing left to sprint.

This year, though, I fought some urges to try something, reminding myself that at 27+ mph, nothing was going to stay away out there, and there were current and former pros right around me in the group, and I knew that they weren't just riding there waiting to get dropped...

So I tried to get in the bunch sprint mindset. I moved up. Got in the right spot. Had some folks tangle in front of me. Ignored it well. Had someone bump into my right side hard, and he got all wobbily. Then I saw Troy go off the road. Then I heard another tangle of bikes. Then someone in front of me sat up and stopped pedaling. I went around to the left, which was in the gravel/grass, got all sideways, and by then it was just a few hundred meters to go. Damn.

I'm not going all Walter Mitty here. I mean, we're talking about top 20 or 25, maybe, but I lost all kinds of momentum right when things took off. Oh well. If I were better, I wouldn't be hanging out on the fringes, but instead, up front with the meat.

I think I officially ended up sixty-eleventh.

Now I get to glue on some more tires.

Thank you, Noah, for handing up water bottles on Sunday. it was much appreciated. Wouldn't have made it to the finish without those.

Glue

It should have been done a few weeks ago, but it was tonight when I glued up new tires to the race wheels. As far as sewups (or you can call them tubulars if you want) go, I'm pretty good at getting them glued on quickly, neatly, and most importantly, solidly.

Anyway, Noah doesn't usually get to use the race wheels unless the race has "Championship" in the name. I, on the other hand, paid for the wheels, so I can use them whenever I want. To do that, though, I needed to glue up some tires.

It was too cold in the garage (or, if you prefer, too messy at my work bench), so I brought in the wheel stand, a towel, some rubber gloves and some glue. I had a tire on a clean rim all winter, so it was as stretched as it was going to get. I put another tire on a clean rim just as I brought the stuff inside, so that right there was indication that maybe it should be left to stretch overnight and the glue job held off until tomorrow.

Nah.

The stretched one was used first and mounted up to the rear wheel. Glue spread evenly, smoothly. One little dribble on to the rim, but it wiped up so easy. I didn't even have to do anything to center the tire. If one didn't know better, my name would be Cristiano. That's how good this tire went on. Ok, it is a German tire, but Christian is just Christian in German. Italian sounds more arty, and this glue job was art. And Noah was sitting at the table watching me do it. Dad is that good. Yes he is.

The second one was art too. Performance art. Something titled, "You just fugged up a perfectly good tire and made a mess of everything with glue on your hair and on the table, Nice". Fortunately for my reputation, Noah went to bed before I started this one.

I thought the glue went on smoothly. I got the valve extender on and it seemed tight. But when it came time to put the valve through the hole, I noticed the extender was threaded on crooked. While taking it off, I lost all air pressure and the bottom part of the tire dropped, hitting my wool sock. Glue on wool sock.

Put the extender on correctly, aired it up a bit to give me something to work with, and then started to put the tire on the rim. It was so tight that before I had half the tire on, I was already wondering if I accidently got a 650c tire, even though I knew I just had it stretching (for 15 minutes) on a regular rim.

The valve extender broke off when I put my toes between what I thought were spokes. All air pressure gone again. And I was left with a tire that made it half way on but basically smeared glue all over the rim, my hands, and the tire, including the tread. I cussed three times. Ok, six.

Another valve extender and another few pounds of pressure. By now I'm not trying to be neat since there is glue all over the tire and rim anyway. But I didn't mean to get my hair out of my eyes with my glue covered hand. I'm sure it looked sexy when I did it, though.

I hurt my toes on my left foot between the spokes because I was pulling so hard. When adjusting, even through my sock, I caught the toe nail on my big toe and pulled it back a bit, which on the toe feels about the same as if I pulled it back a mile.

Anyway, I just muscled that tire on to the rim and admired at just how bad a glue job could look.

I started rubbing off the glue from the rim, making glue boogars, but also making progress. When I got tired of that, I started working on the sidewalls of the tire. Did that until my fingers were raw. Then I picked at it with my thumbnail until I frayed the sidewall. About then is when I noticed there was glue on the table.

Before I could stop her, Chloe tried wiping it up with a paper towel. For those of you who can't picture what happened next, what happened next was that Chloe glued a shredded paper towel to our cherry dining room table.

In case you are wondering, that is NOT foreplay.

We debated as to what could get it up without destroying the finish on the table. We picked at it and rubbed and wiped and scrubbed and picked and picked and scratched. When I look at it now, I can't see anything at all, but then I look away and look back, and it looks like I wiped away part of the table. We'll put some flowers there or something. Or I'll wait until morning, make Buddy spill some juice, and then blame him for the next 25 years. That'll be good for a couple therapy sessions.

All glued up now, though. I hope I can make it more than half way with the group in the races this weekend.

Who's that over there on the hill looking at me?

I was walking around the cross country course at Noah's district meet today. Chloe was off talking to Lisa, and I lost track of them. While standing there looking around the crowd for my wife of almost 10 years, I couldn't find her. She sent me a text asking me where I was. I texted (that really shouldn't be a word) back, and eventually she pointed me where to look (all of 30 yards away).

The thing is, I was looking right at her. I didn't recognize my wife. Sure, she was in some clothes I hadn't seen before, or at least in awhile, and she was wearing sunglasses, but...

That's what losing 20lbs can do. And if you believe her, she's not done yet.


While talking about your wife's weight is way pushing the limits of what you can get away with (I have permission for this one), I do want to say to everyone that Chloe is doing a great job.

Banana Pudding for Breakfast

There are a couple of cakes I like, such as carrot cake and italian wedding cake, but I'm really not that into cake overall. If I get birthday cake, it is more of a formality.

For as long as I can remember, I've always had banana pudding for my birthday. And with only a couple of exceptions, I've had it for breakfast. It's my thing, I guess.

But anyway, thank you Mom and Dad for giving me a birthday. I did have banana pudding this morning. And because Chloe made it, I'll be having it for lunch, dinner, dessert and maybe even breakfast tomorrow too.