Chloe worked from home yesterday afternoon.
I work from home just about all of the time.
She stopped and picked up groceries on her way home.
I went by and got groceries after picking up Reanie from school.
We even saw each other in the house before I left.
Now we have lots and lots of groceries.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Monday, April 28, 2008
One of my favorite ways to spend an hour on Saturdays
Here's Reanie after coming off the field from her first shift.
This is the "please take a picture of my number" picture.
The highlight of 5&under soccer is the snack after the game.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Does anyone know where my 15mm wrench is, and will they please take it away from me?
Last weekend was the first of the Texas Cup track races, and since they were at the Superdrome in Frisco, it was a relatively easy trip to get there. We also had several teammates planning to attend, which always makes a race weekend that much better.
Noah and I have race wheels, but because I'm a headcase about messing that stuff up, we typically only use them for championship events. This was easy enough to sort out for Noah, currently, because his rear wheel holds his expensive fancy powermeter, so putting on a race wheel means taking off the more exensive powermeter. He kept his "regular" wheel on there, which was one less thing to worry about. I put on a fancy, carbon, tri-spoke thing on the rear and intended to use the deep profile carbon wheel in the front.
That was the plan. In the future, if the plan calls for me to use a wrench or other bike tool, someone needs to duct tape my hands together behind my back.
Because Noah's bike required no adjustment, we simply made sure the tires were inflated and the bolts for the wheels were snug. He was up on the track in a matter of minutes.
The weekend before at the races, I "spun off" a cog on my regular rear wheel. No big deal, usually, as many track wheels allow you to run a cog on either side. The problem with this was that I "spun off" a cog on one side a year or so ago, so I only had the one side with threads anymore. That is, until I ruined the good side too. To get through the rest of that night, I borrowed a wheel from my teamnut, Troy.
I took the opportunity to sort out a wheel for warming up, which would be separate from my fancy race wheel. I'd have the easier gear on the warm up wheel, and when ready, I'd put the fast wheel on and get after it. It all sounds so simple.
After a couple laps around the short inner loop of the track, I took a few good, hard pedal strokes to get up on the track. It felt like I'd thrown out an anchor.
Under real load, the wheel cocked sideways a bit and the tire was rubbing against the frame. No good. I got off the track and carried my bike back to the pit. Started fiddling with the wheel to get it recentered, but all the adjusting was actually messing with the tightness of the bearings in the hub. That's not supposed to happen. After messing with it about 5 minutes past my limit in patience, and realizing that I needed to warm up more than I needed to figure out what was going on, I put on my fancy carbon tri-spoke rear wheel.
This wheel is cool! Continental tubular tire. It makes a cool sound that is the sound of fast. It is pretty light. It is pretty stiff. It is fast. Faster than me, but that isn't a prerequisite when they sell them. They take your money and give you the wheel. Worked for me.
Well, it would have worked for me if there wasn't all that racket going on. I couldn't hear the cool sound that only deep aerodynamic wheels make because something was wrong with the hub on this wheel as well. It was too loose, which made the wheel move a few noisy millimeters side to side. Every clank and bang made me see $ signs. After a few laps of hoping it fixed itself, I was forced to do something about it when the wheel cocked sideways a bit, just like my other wheel did. I came down to the pit, again, and started using wrenches in a way that suggested I knew what I was doing.
Troy bailed me out again by letting me use his back up race wheel (a different kind of tri-spoke), so we moved cogs around, slapped that in, and bolted it down. I took this opportunity to then put on my carbon front wheel, as there was just a few more minutes of warm up left.
That's when I stripped out the valve extention to inflate the tire.
No problem, though, because I actually brought my FRONT tri-spoke, which would have worked fine had I brought the adapter to air it up. By now, though, I was irritated enough that damaging bike parts felt good, not bad, so I jammed a pump head that was a little too big into the opening, and aired that thing up. And then the announcer announced "the track is now closed to warm up. Please clear the track."
His next announcement brought Noah's race to the rail. They started, there were a couple of attacks, and eventually Noah broke away. He had a solid lead coming into the final straight. That's when his wheel broke loose and the chain came off. 35 meters to go, tire rubbing the frame, chain dangling on the chainstay and off of the crank, and there's no brakes or anything of the sort on a track bike. It was a photo finish for 1st, 2nd, and 3rd. Noah managed to take that win, no thanks to his mechanic.
In what has to be one of the worst cases of judgement on our team, they let me get his wheel back on and centered and such.
A few minutes later, I was able to race with no drama. After that race, though, a new racer, who I can only imagine assumed I new what I was doing with tools based upon the amount of time I had a tool in hand before the race, asked me to help her with her bike.
We got through that day with no more mechanical issues. When we got home, I glued that valve extender to the valve of my deep profile front wheel, and it was just after I turned it tight on it's last thread that I wondered if the valve was even open. Without three words of swearing at myself, I went inside away from bike parts and tools.
On Sunday, for day #2 of the Texas Cup weekend, it was windy. Too windy for the front tri-spoke, in my opinion, so I put on my normal, hunk of junk front wheel. The tri-spoke Troy loaned me was still on the rear, even though Rob fixed the hub on my own tri-spoke. I was afraid to take one wheel off and put on another, understandably.
Front wheels don't take too much brains to put on, and I didn't have any trouble with the installation. It was, however, on my 3rd or 4th lap of warm up that I broke a spoke on it. I know, "oh no!" as if it was just another thing to go wrong, but see, it is very rare to break a front spoke. The wheel doesn't really get much stress on it. No torque is applied. Not that I had a spare spoke with me, but when a front spoke goes, in my opinion, the wheel is compromised, which is exactly what you want to be thinking when dropping down the 45 degree banking ramping it up to 38 or so mph, like I was. The subsequent loss of trueness caused the remaining intact spokes to knock off the sensor of my computer. My stupid, expensive powermeter computer.
Back in the pit, I grabbed my carbon deep profile wheel, put a pump on the valve extender, and hoped for the sake of any children nearby that the thing would take air. It did. Sigh of relief.
I returned to the track to finish warming up, and there was a "pop-pop-pop-pop" sound coming from the front wheel.
The thing about track bikes is that they are so simple. Bolt on wheels. No brakes. One gear. Simple. Basic. Good grief.
Oh, that sound? Get this. It was a bubble in the glue for the tubular. It was popping on every rotation of the wheel. Go slow, pop.....pop.....pop. Go fast, pop..pop..pop. Attack in the race, popopopopop.
I didn't mess with it.
Noah raced the cat 4's, which was the biggest field of the day, and the 13-14. He had a good day. Finished around 8th in the 4's races, and was on his way to a hat trick in the 13-14.
On his way, because just after the finish line in the 2nd race of the 13-14s, about 20m after winning, he was plowed into from behind. He crashed.
Damage to him wasn't too much. Rash, and some brusing. He was more pissed than anything, but when he learned that his expensive powermeter rear wheel was toast, the first thing he said about it was, "Am I going to be in trouble?"
While he was getting bandaged up, someone asked him if he was going to do the last race. He said, "If my bike is ok". With that, I took his bike to the pit, borrowed a rear wheel (yes, from Troy), Ken helped me get the cog and wheel changed out (Noah has to run a mandated gear because he's in the 13-14yr age group) and Troy, um, bent back Noah's handlebars so that is was only a couple inches away from straight instead of the "ouch" it was.
I believe Noah took second in that next race.
When I got home, I unloaded the gear from the car to the garage. My bike felt a little odd as I rolled it in. That's the way it feels when the front tire is going flat.
There was track racing last Friday night, but we didn't go.
Noah and I have race wheels, but because I'm a headcase about messing that stuff up, we typically only use them for championship events. This was easy enough to sort out for Noah, currently, because his rear wheel holds his expensive fancy powermeter, so putting on a race wheel means taking off the more exensive powermeter. He kept his "regular" wheel on there, which was one less thing to worry about. I put on a fancy, carbon, tri-spoke thing on the rear and intended to use the deep profile carbon wheel in the front.
That was the plan. In the future, if the plan calls for me to use a wrench or other bike tool, someone needs to duct tape my hands together behind my back.
Because Noah's bike required no adjustment, we simply made sure the tires were inflated and the bolts for the wheels were snug. He was up on the track in a matter of minutes.
The weekend before at the races, I "spun off" a cog on my regular rear wheel. No big deal, usually, as many track wheels allow you to run a cog on either side. The problem with this was that I "spun off" a cog on one side a year or so ago, so I only had the one side with threads anymore. That is, until I ruined the good side too. To get through the rest of that night, I borrowed a wheel from my teamnut, Troy.
I took the opportunity to sort out a wheel for warming up, which would be separate from my fancy race wheel. I'd have the easier gear on the warm up wheel, and when ready, I'd put the fast wheel on and get after it. It all sounds so simple.
After a couple laps around the short inner loop of the track, I took a few good, hard pedal strokes to get up on the track. It felt like I'd thrown out an anchor.
Under real load, the wheel cocked sideways a bit and the tire was rubbing against the frame. No good. I got off the track and carried my bike back to the pit. Started fiddling with the wheel to get it recentered, but all the adjusting was actually messing with the tightness of the bearings in the hub. That's not supposed to happen. After messing with it about 5 minutes past my limit in patience, and realizing that I needed to warm up more than I needed to figure out what was going on, I put on my fancy carbon tri-spoke rear wheel.
This wheel is cool! Continental tubular tire. It makes a cool sound that is the sound of fast. It is pretty light. It is pretty stiff. It is fast. Faster than me, but that isn't a prerequisite when they sell them. They take your money and give you the wheel. Worked for me.
Well, it would have worked for me if there wasn't all that racket going on. I couldn't hear the cool sound that only deep aerodynamic wheels make because something was wrong with the hub on this wheel as well. It was too loose, which made the wheel move a few noisy millimeters side to side. Every clank and bang made me see $ signs. After a few laps of hoping it fixed itself, I was forced to do something about it when the wheel cocked sideways a bit, just like my other wheel did. I came down to the pit, again, and started using wrenches in a way that suggested I knew what I was doing.
Troy bailed me out again by letting me use his back up race wheel (a different kind of tri-spoke), so we moved cogs around, slapped that in, and bolted it down. I took this opportunity to then put on my carbon front wheel, as there was just a few more minutes of warm up left.
That's when I stripped out the valve extention to inflate the tire.
No problem, though, because I actually brought my FRONT tri-spoke, which would have worked fine had I brought the adapter to air it up. By now, though, I was irritated enough that damaging bike parts felt good, not bad, so I jammed a pump head that was a little too big into the opening, and aired that thing up. And then the announcer announced "the track is now closed to warm up. Please clear the track."
His next announcement brought Noah's race to the rail. They started, there were a couple of attacks, and eventually Noah broke away. He had a solid lead coming into the final straight. That's when his wheel broke loose and the chain came off. 35 meters to go, tire rubbing the frame, chain dangling on the chainstay and off of the crank, and there's no brakes or anything of the sort on a track bike. It was a photo finish for 1st, 2nd, and 3rd. Noah managed to take that win, no thanks to his mechanic.
In what has to be one of the worst cases of judgement on our team, they let me get his wheel back on and centered and such.
A few minutes later, I was able to race with no drama. After that race, though, a new racer, who I can only imagine assumed I new what I was doing with tools based upon the amount of time I had a tool in hand before the race, asked me to help her with her bike.
We got through that day with no more mechanical issues. When we got home, I glued that valve extender to the valve of my deep profile front wheel, and it was just after I turned it tight on it's last thread that I wondered if the valve was even open. Without three words of swearing at myself, I went inside away from bike parts and tools.
On Sunday, for day #2 of the Texas Cup weekend, it was windy. Too windy for the front tri-spoke, in my opinion, so I put on my normal, hunk of junk front wheel. The tri-spoke Troy loaned me was still on the rear, even though Rob fixed the hub on my own tri-spoke. I was afraid to take one wheel off and put on another, understandably.
Front wheels don't take too much brains to put on, and I didn't have any trouble with the installation. It was, however, on my 3rd or 4th lap of warm up that I broke a spoke on it. I know, "oh no!" as if it was just another thing to go wrong, but see, it is very rare to break a front spoke. The wheel doesn't really get much stress on it. No torque is applied. Not that I had a spare spoke with me, but when a front spoke goes, in my opinion, the wheel is compromised, which is exactly what you want to be thinking when dropping down the 45 degree banking ramping it up to 38 or so mph, like I was. The subsequent loss of trueness caused the remaining intact spokes to knock off the sensor of my computer. My stupid, expensive powermeter computer.
Back in the pit, I grabbed my carbon deep profile wheel, put a pump on the valve extender, and hoped for the sake of any children nearby that the thing would take air. It did. Sigh of relief.
I returned to the track to finish warming up, and there was a "pop-pop-pop-pop" sound coming from the front wheel.
The thing about track bikes is that they are so simple. Bolt on wheels. No brakes. One gear. Simple. Basic. Good grief.
Oh, that sound? Get this. It was a bubble in the glue for the tubular. It was popping on every rotation of the wheel. Go slow, pop.....pop.....pop. Go fast, pop..pop..pop. Attack in the race, popopopopop.
I didn't mess with it.
Noah raced the cat 4's, which was the biggest field of the day, and the 13-14. He had a good day. Finished around 8th in the 4's races, and was on his way to a hat trick in the 13-14.
On his way, because just after the finish line in the 2nd race of the 13-14s, about 20m after winning, he was plowed into from behind. He crashed.
Damage to him wasn't too much. Rash, and some brusing. He was more pissed than anything, but when he learned that his expensive powermeter rear wheel was toast, the first thing he said about it was, "Am I going to be in trouble?"
While he was getting bandaged up, someone asked him if he was going to do the last race. He said, "If my bike is ok". With that, I took his bike to the pit, borrowed a rear wheel (yes, from Troy), Ken helped me get the cog and wheel changed out (Noah has to run a mandated gear because he's in the 13-14yr age group) and Troy, um, bent back Noah's handlebars so that is was only a couple inches away from straight instead of the "ouch" it was.
I believe Noah took second in that next race.
When I got home, I unloaded the gear from the car to the garage. My bike felt a little odd as I rolled it in. That's the way it feels when the front tire is going flat.
There was track racing last Friday night, but we didn't go.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Last Couple of Days--from the mouths of babes
This morning:
Reanie: DADDY! MAMA SAID I'M SICK AND I DON'T HAVE TO GO TO SCHOOL!!! I'M GOING TO PLAY WITH BIANCA (the white chicken)!
Yesterday in the bleachers at the track races:
Buddy: Mama, can I get naked?
Well, at least he asked.
Reanie: DADDY! MAMA SAID I'M SICK AND I DON'T HAVE TO GO TO SCHOOL!!! I'M GOING TO PLAY WITH BIANCA (the white chicken)!
Yesterday in the bleachers at the track races:
Buddy: Mama, can I get naked?
Well, at least he asked.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
On the other hand...
102.
and my kids were there, my wife was there, Lisa, Scott and Anelise were there. Teammates and friends...good day. Except for the part where Noah crashed.
With a borrowed a wheel, some handlebar "adjustment" and a few helping hands, he was rolling again for the last race of the day. It was otherwise a very good racing weekend for Noah.
I got to ride shotgun off Troy for two days. good times.
Drew Tucker and Matrix put on a good and interesting event with the Matrix Cup. It was a strong turnout for the track. Hope we can get the numbers to where they are like that regularly.
and my kids were there, my wife was there, Lisa, Scott and Anelise were there. Teammates and friends...good day. Except for the part where Noah crashed.
With a borrowed a wheel, some handlebar "adjustment" and a few helping hands, he was rolling again for the last race of the day. It was otherwise a very good racing weekend for Noah.
I got to ride shotgun off Troy for two days. good times.
Drew Tucker and Matrix put on a good and interesting event with the Matrix Cup. It was a strong turnout for the track. Hope we can get the numbers to where they are like that regularly.
Got it out of my system
I have a weekly reminder thing on the computer to let me know to update this blog. The reminder chimes to let me know I've yet to remove it from my "to do" list. My "to do" list was and is big right now, and in terms of priority, having to update a blog seemed like an easy thing to put off until later.
But that daily reminder (because I hadn't crossed it off the "to do" list to make it "done") was more a reminder that I'm behind. Work, stuff around the house, riding...and family.
We all have our routines, and here we've recently established and reestablished new routines with Chloe going back to work and Buddy starting a new school (just to name a couple things). "Busy" for one person may not be much for another, and frankly I don't really care how one person's busy measures up to another. We all make our choices. Some choose to be more busy as a means to an end. Some are more busy because they make poor use of their time or are inefficient. Some are more busy because they can't say 'no'. In the end, busy-ness tends to add stress. I knew it was getting bad for me when "Blog" came up on my daily calendar thing and it was stressing me out. The word "blog" became an annoyance.
By not updating, I had folks asking why I hadn't updated in awhile, and then folks asking for me to update. I put the "closed" sign up and, geesh, I was flooded with calls and emails. I spent way more time answering and responding that I am with putting this up here.
Curious thing, though. the next day after the "closed" sign post, I had a few things I thought were worthy of pecking out. can't remember what they were now, but things are gradually getting back to centered.
Not putting "update blog" on my things to do list. It'll happen when it happens. I don't expect to blog about blogging again.
Still stinging from Noah's powertap getting busted up-ingly yours,
Christian
Chris
Cri
Or however you get my attention
But that daily reminder (because I hadn't crossed it off the "to do" list to make it "done") was more a reminder that I'm behind. Work, stuff around the house, riding...and family.
We all have our routines, and here we've recently established and reestablished new routines with Chloe going back to work and Buddy starting a new school (just to name a couple things). "Busy" for one person may not be much for another, and frankly I don't really care how one person's busy measures up to another. We all make our choices. Some choose to be more busy as a means to an end. Some are more busy because they make poor use of their time or are inefficient. Some are more busy because they can't say 'no'. In the end, busy-ness tends to add stress. I knew it was getting bad for me when "Blog" came up on my daily calendar thing and it was stressing me out. The word "blog" became an annoyance.
By not updating, I had folks asking why I hadn't updated in awhile, and then folks asking for me to update. I put the "closed" sign up and, geesh, I was flooded with calls and emails. I spent way more time answering and responding that I am with putting this up here.
Curious thing, though. the next day after the "closed" sign post, I had a few things I thought were worthy of pecking out. can't remember what they were now, but things are gradually getting back to centered.
Not putting "update blog" on my things to do list. It'll happen when it happens. I don't expect to blog about blogging again.
Still stinging from Noah's powertap getting busted up-ingly yours,
Christian
Chris
Cri
Or however you get my attention
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Just don't eat me
Ate our own eggs this morning. WORTH IT. Only two or three of our pullets are laying, or, at least, are laying where I've found the eggs, so we don't get quite enough for daily use. I did, however, collect enough so that we had breakfast with just our own. Richer tasting, better tasting, fresher...I'm gushing over eggs.
We have seven who should be laying eventually, which will get us 5-6 eggs per day, which is about what we go through. We'll pick up a few more chickens or simply let them hatch as we get a handle on our situation here.
Our actual chicken run isn't yet finished being built, so we're still helping them get couped up at night, making sure they are locked up (to keep out the bad guys), and then hosing down the patio every couple days. They aren't so good at the potty training. I do have two who are laying eggs in a nesting box/spot. They are trainable.
I've never really had a pet before. There was a dog and cat over at my Dad and Pat's, and then Cami had a kitten once until we realized that I'm not just a little bit allergic to cats. Regardless, I've never really had any pet around on a regular basis, other than Buddy.
But these aren't pets.
Oh, but they are.
Eddy, our rooster, hurt his leg or foot somehow. He's limping very noticeably. When Chloe noticed, she called me over to see him, and my first thought was, "alright! dinner!". But she immediately went into how she was going to take him to the vet.
Screeching brakes.
These chickens were $6 each. We only have a few more dollars invested in each of them. While I like Eddy alright, he's not even the top of the pecking order (yet). We don't need a rooster to get eggs, so he's pretty much here just to cockadoodledoo or get fried.
Then again, I'm not at the top of the pecking order around here, and I'm pretty gimpy, and we're not interested in hatching any of our own eggs...
We have seven who should be laying eventually, which will get us 5-6 eggs per day, which is about what we go through. We'll pick up a few more chickens or simply let them hatch as we get a handle on our situation here.
Our actual chicken run isn't yet finished being built, so we're still helping them get couped up at night, making sure they are locked up (to keep out the bad guys), and then hosing down the patio every couple days. They aren't so good at the potty training. I do have two who are laying eggs in a nesting box/spot. They are trainable.
I've never really had a pet before. There was a dog and cat over at my Dad and Pat's, and then Cami had a kitten once until we realized that I'm not just a little bit allergic to cats. Regardless, I've never really had any pet around on a regular basis, other than Buddy.
But these aren't pets.
Oh, but they are.
Eddy, our rooster, hurt his leg or foot somehow. He's limping very noticeably. When Chloe noticed, she called me over to see him, and my first thought was, "alright! dinner!". But she immediately went into how she was going to take him to the vet.
Screeching brakes.
These chickens were $6 each. We only have a few more dollars invested in each of them. While I like Eddy alright, he's not even the top of the pecking order (yet). We don't need a rooster to get eggs, so he's pretty much here just to cockadoodledoo or get fried.
Then again, I'm not at the top of the pecking order around here, and I'm pretty gimpy, and we're not interested in hatching any of our own eggs...
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Right out of a chicken's butt
The one on the left is a store bought, free range, organic, Montessori school egg. The one on the right is the first egg any of our ladies has laid for us. They'll get bigger. For those keeping score, it was one of the Plymouth Barred Rock (one of the black and white ones) chickens that was first to get to producing.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
GS Walter Mitty
I wondered if there'd be any heathens out there yesterday morning on the group ride. There were. About 40 or so, I'd say. There's usually 50-70, so this was a pretty good one. I also think some folks skipped out because they put away their leg warmers, and it was a little chilly.
It was a good, strong group, and the pace was moving along pretty well as I came upon the group. After (geesh, it is really?) 15 years or so of this ride, today I finally gave up on riding through all the neighborhoods, stop signs and stop lights to get to the start. One of the reasons we moved out here was so I didn't have to ride IN to town to ride. Over the last few weeks I've grown more and more frustrated with the 14mph, braking, surging, clogging the roads, stopping every 1/3 mile, all just to get to the roads where the ride starts in earnest, which is basically right in front of my house...Anyway, I rode around out this way until the usualish time the group would come by our road, and then jumped in.
Pretty strong headwind going out, but there were 3 or 4 guys keeping it moving in those first few miles. They were dropped once the live ammo was loaded, but at least we weren't rolling 12mph into the headwind. One of them was even getting frustrated that nobody was working. If I remember, I'll try to explain to him that there is no "right" amount of work if one is getting dropped when the ride starts for real.
About 10 miles of the quick pace stuff into the new route for the Sunday ride and things had sorted out to a lead group of 12. I was there. And this isn't even fiction.
I even attacked. Oh, it was a futile effort, but I made it look good. Too bad, though, that while I was making the effort that I was more worried about what my line looked like as I battled the strong crosswind. It is so hard to find shelter when you are off the front solo (warming up for quadrant II, Enak).
The only hiccup on the ride was when the group blew through one particular stop sign while a car was waiting. It is only worth mentioning because on this ride, most of the folks are actually good about staying confined to one lane and being largely courteous at stop signs. It did get in my head, though, and I sat up in frustration. I looked back to see that Daveed had not only stopped, but dismounted. I rolled slowly for (what seemed like) awhile, but when I didn't seen him get on his bike in a hurry, I chased. And blew. But then Daveed came by me and talked me into chasing. I dutifully guarded his back wheel.
Over the next8 miles 13 kilometers there are 5 hills that give me trouble. The first we dealt with ok because I jumped on Daveed's back and carried my bike cyclocross style. I had a little trouble on the next hill, but we were down to 10 riders at that point, so I think the pace was taking a toll on most. No killer attacks there.
Almost immediately came "Hilltop", which doesn't really need " " since that's actually the name of the road. the lead group busted up a bit, but I was in there. It weren't pretty, at all, but I was there. Kinda.
I was gapped with 3 others. With the next hill coming at us in less thana mile two kilomters, we put in a hard chase. The thing is, the riders ahead of us were ahead of us because they were all better than us, so actually catching them was, um, hard.
But we did catch them at the bottom of hill #4. My chasing buddies stayed on while I watched them go. I wasn't letting them go by any stretch. I'm sure it wasn't a pretty sight, but I was trying to get oxygen in me through any pore and opening while squeezing out some, any, forward momentum, but the gap opened up anyway.
After cresting the top of that I went into chase mode. At that point the race was me bridging to the winning break. The finish line (there is an actual finish line on this ride) was6 miles 10K away at that point.
Soloing from the disentegrated pack, and without teammates, I begin working my way up to the winning break. With onlymiles kilometers to go, there's no time to waste in letting this be dramatic. "Bring it back, now!"
I can see the group ahead. There are a few riders working together, but the rest are sitting on because they know I'm coming, and when I get there, they want to be strong enough to be close enough to see what it is like when The Real Deal comes flying by. The gap continues to come down.
The road comes to a "T" intersection. The course turns left. I have to hesitate because two riders are coming from the right. They see the leaders up ahead and sprint after them. Now there are 13 in front of me, but the immediate threat is the cheating interlopers. I must catch them. And I do. And when I do, I don't sit on and catch my breath. I don't ask them to work with me. No. I attack. The wake of my turbulence causes them to crash into the ditch, which is fortunate for them because had they latched on to my wheel, it would have been a long, painful and tortuous ride. "Perhaps they will thank me later," I think to myself.
The gap to the leaders is still coming down. The bottom of hill #5 is pretty much under water, so I have to tip toe my way through it, lest I get spotted stains on my white team kit. That would be uncooth for the victory presentation on a race like this. A car passes through, which forces me to wait, but it also gives me a chance to motorpace uphill.
Crossing the railroad tracks at the top of the hill, I see that the gap to the leaders has actually grown. "Damn that car!", I think. "Why couldn't I have paced off of a faster car? A Porche Boxter isn't much of anything, really."
With events approaching 'situation critical', I push the "Pro" button on my SRM. "I'm sorry to do so, but it is time the leaders felt the reality of, um, reality".
So now they are in front of me, and all I want to do is finish lapping them to complete the domination. I havetwo miles three kilometers to finish the deed. The television helicopter has already left because it isnt' good tv or good for the sport to show one person LAPPING the leaders on a 45 mile 73K race course. The crowd left long ago with the result a forgone conclusion. The extent of my domination is so thorough that the letter from USAC has already been drafted. In it, they ask me to stop racing for the good of the sport.
But I'm not going to stop.
With.62 miles 1K to go, it sinks in to me. If I do catch these leaders, I'm going to discourage people from trying hard. If they show up on these rides at all, they'll be riding in fear and just watching me. I'm doing my part to help the sport by allowing the riders in front of me to maintain some semblance of victory. They don't need to know I sat up and let them finish ahead of me. The victory and awards on this type of ride are the same whether I catch and lap them or roll in behind.
As I approached the finish line, I put my hands back on the bars, took me feet from behind my head and clipped back into the pedals. There's no need to go ahead and finish my victory salute. They already know.
It was a good, strong group, and the pace was moving along pretty well as I came upon the group. After (geesh, it is really?) 15 years or so of this ride, today I finally gave up on riding through all the neighborhoods, stop signs and stop lights to get to the start. One of the reasons we moved out here was so I didn't have to ride IN to town to ride. Over the last few weeks I've grown more and more frustrated with the 14mph, braking, surging, clogging the roads, stopping every 1/3 mile, all just to get to the roads where the ride starts in earnest, which is basically right in front of my house...Anyway, I rode around out this way until the usualish time the group would come by our road, and then jumped in.
Pretty strong headwind going out, but there were 3 or 4 guys keeping it moving in those first few miles. They were dropped once the live ammo was loaded, but at least we weren't rolling 12mph into the headwind. One of them was even getting frustrated that nobody was working. If I remember, I'll try to explain to him that there is no "right" amount of work if one is getting dropped when the ride starts for real.
About 10 miles of the quick pace stuff into the new route for the Sunday ride and things had sorted out to a lead group of 12. I was there. And this isn't even fiction.
I even attacked. Oh, it was a futile effort, but I made it look good. Too bad, though, that while I was making the effort that I was more worried about what my line looked like as I battled the strong crosswind. It is so hard to find shelter when you are off the front solo (warming up for quadrant II, Enak).
The only hiccup on the ride was when the group blew through one particular stop sign while a car was waiting. It is only worth mentioning because on this ride, most of the folks are actually good about staying confined to one lane and being largely courteous at stop signs. It did get in my head, though, and I sat up in frustration. I looked back to see that Daveed had not only stopped, but dismounted. I rolled slowly for (what seemed like) awhile, but when I didn't seen him get on his bike in a hurry, I chased. And blew. But then Daveed came by me and talked me into chasing. I dutifully guarded his back wheel.
Over the next
Almost immediately came "Hilltop", which doesn't really need " " since that's actually the name of the road. the lead group busted up a bit, but I was in there. It weren't pretty, at all, but I was there. Kinda.
I was gapped with 3 others. With the next hill coming at us in less than
But we did catch them at the bottom of hill #4. My chasing buddies stayed on while I watched them go. I wasn't letting them go by any stretch. I'm sure it wasn't a pretty sight, but I was trying to get oxygen in me through any pore and opening while squeezing out some, any, forward momentum, but the gap opened up anyway.
After cresting the top of that I went into chase mode. At that point the race was me bridging to the winning break. The finish line (there is an actual finish line on this ride) was
Soloing from the disentegrated pack, and without teammates, I begin working my way up to the winning break. With only
I can see the group ahead. There are a few riders working together, but the rest are sitting on because they know I'm coming, and when I get there, they want to be strong enough to be close enough to see what it is like when The Real Deal comes flying by. The gap continues to come down.
The road comes to a "T" intersection. The course turns left. I have to hesitate because two riders are coming from the right. They see the leaders up ahead and sprint after them. Now there are 13 in front of me, but the immediate threat is the cheating interlopers. I must catch them. And I do. And when I do, I don't sit on and catch my breath. I don't ask them to work with me. No. I attack. The wake of my turbulence causes them to crash into the ditch, which is fortunate for them because had they latched on to my wheel, it would have been a long, painful and tortuous ride. "Perhaps they will thank me later," I think to myself.
The gap to the leaders is still coming down. The bottom of hill #5 is pretty much under water, so I have to tip toe my way through it, lest I get spotted stains on my white team kit. That would be uncooth for the victory presentation on a race like this. A car passes through, which forces me to wait, but it also gives me a chance to motorpace uphill.
Crossing the railroad tracks at the top of the hill, I see that the gap to the leaders has actually grown. "Damn that car!", I think. "Why couldn't I have paced off of a faster car? A Porche Boxter isn't much of anything, really."
With events approaching 'situation critical', I push the "Pro" button on my SRM. "I'm sorry to do so, but it is time the leaders felt the reality of, um, reality".
So now they are in front of me, and all I want to do is finish lapping them to complete the domination. I have
But I'm not going to stop.
With
As I approached the finish line, I put my hands back on the bars, took me feet from behind my head and clipped back into the pedals. There's no need to go ahead and finish my victory salute. They already know.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Now for the good stuff
I didn't want to muddle this one up with that other post.
Mama and the family came out to the race this weekend. It's some stress, sure, to get everyone packed in the car, my bike crap, Noah's bike crap, everyone else's stuff, food...and then drive the 5 hr (that's how long it takes with this many people who realize 30s before they are going to go to the bathroom that they need to go) to Fayetteville. We did get there, though, and we completely lucked in to a new place to stay there. The house had plenty of room, everyone had a bed, there was a full kitchen, and we were just a quarter mile or so from where the races start.
With the kids a little older, I don't worry about them wandering into the road, which was a stressor for me before. They can also entertain themselves a little bit better what with there being bugs and stuff out there. I'm fortunate that Chloe was up for coming out and supporting there. In fact, I took a bottle at every feed zone, which was 9 feeds in total. Of course, having real meals was a nice treat too. And being able to kiss everyone goodnight instead of "Now Buddy wants to talk on the phone" is an invauable bonus.
To top it all off, I got a feed on stage 3 from Reanie!
the kids were upbeat the entire trip and seemed to be having a lot of fun. Mama seemed to be having a decent time as well. I worry about that when it just bike racer stuff all the time. We did have a team dinner thing on Saturday night too, so that was the icing on the cake. All in all, it seemed good.
I did feel bad when I got dropped on Stage 3, though, because it meant they had to stay out there longer than necessary. I'm coming around, so that won't happen too many more times. I'm working hard to get that "I was really good in 1993" off of this header.
Not that I have to decide, but it's a toss up as to who hands off a water bottle best in the whole world, Chloe or Reanie.
Mama and the family came out to the race this weekend. It's some stress, sure, to get everyone packed in the car, my bike crap, Noah's bike crap, everyone else's stuff, food...and then drive the 5 hr (that's how long it takes with this many people who realize 30s before they are going to go to the bathroom that they need to go) to Fayetteville. We did get there, though, and we completely lucked in to a new place to stay there. The house had plenty of room, everyone had a bed, there was a full kitchen, and we were just a quarter mile or so from where the races start.
With the kids a little older, I don't worry about them wandering into the road, which was a stressor for me before. They can also entertain themselves a little bit better what with there being bugs and stuff out there. I'm fortunate that Chloe was up for coming out and supporting there. In fact, I took a bottle at every feed zone, which was 9 feeds in total. Of course, having real meals was a nice treat too. And being able to kiss everyone goodnight instead of "Now Buddy wants to talk on the phone" is an invauable bonus.
To top it all off, I got a feed on stage 3 from Reanie!
the kids were upbeat the entire trip and seemed to be having a lot of fun. Mama seemed to be having a decent time as well. I worry about that when it just bike racer stuff all the time. We did have a team dinner thing on Saturday night too, so that was the icing on the cake. All in all, it seemed good.
I did feel bad when I got dropped on Stage 3, though, because it meant they had to stay out there longer than necessary. I'm coming around, so that won't happen too many more times. I'm working hard to get that "I was really good in 1993" off of this header.
Not that I have to decide, but it's a toss up as to who hands off a water bottle best in the whole world, Chloe or Reanie.
Cheater
Raced the stage race in Fayetteville this past weekend. Nothing too notable about my performance, but it was still quite a bit better than last year. From sewer to the gutter is progress.
Anyway, much has been made lately about the "centerline rule". Basically, we're not supposed to go on the left side of the center line of the road. Safety's sake is the biggest reason.
For the last 12 years, at least, I've made a conscious effort to not venture over the center line at all, even if it meant I was out of the draft and put in difficulty because of it. Not that big of a deal, really, except that it is a rule so completely abused that I have been, in many, many cases, just setting myself up to be dropped. The rule isn't enforced very often at all. Most of the time the punishment is that the person or official in the follow vehicle will honk the horn.
If you ever wondered what it sounds like in a p,1,2 race, listen to this. For 3-4 hours non-stop.
As I was saying, I've just made it a point to not go over to the left side of the road. It was easy enough there for a few years because I wasn't racing at the 1,2 level anyway. But I'm fitter now. And now it is costing me for reals. And while it was frustrating for a long time, now it just pisses me off.
There was a section of road for several miles on Saturday that we did a few times. The protected side (from the wind) was on the left. There was a point a few times in the race that every rider was completely to the left edge of the road, including the very first rider in the field. Except me. Over there on the right. I'd be out there like a complete idiot, but I was an idiot who was moving up. Eventually I'd have 5-6 riders on my wheel, and once or twice I even had someone pull through (take a turn on the front), but only once (ONCE) did anyone let me in to the echelon I created. And people wonder why the second echelon never seems to form in Texas.
The energy I expended in the race that could have been saved is not insignificant. I don't want to numb your brains with powermeter cycling dorkball stuff, but there is a stress/energy measurement we use in coaching called Training Stress. 100 points is the equivalent of going as hard as you can for 1 hour. I'm looking at a file here of a LSW family member who was at 191 TSS (training stress score) for the race. he was in the pack at the end. the race was 2hr48min or so.
My TSS was 291.
Typing that out and reading it doesn't make it sound as hard as it was. And I paid for it later in the day during the time trial.
That night we talked about our firm stance in not breaking the rules. I was cracking. The opinions expressed were unanimous that if it is a rule that isn't enforced, and nobody else is following it, it doesn't seem to be a rule worth following if the only person punished is the one following it. Our team had committed for some time to being the "right kind of riders". But in the discussion, some common sense was offered that "if the road is safe, and there's no penalty, keep yourself in the race". It was enough to convince me to "go to the left side".
At the start of stage 3 on Sunday, we were lectured (making it a consitent 100% for every race I've ever done) that the officials "really mean it this time". People were going to be disqualified for their safety, the safety of others, for insurance liability reasons, to maintain the peace with the locals and to make sure we never lose Texas road racing again."
"YEAH!", I thought. Not sure why I thought this would be any different, but I wanted it to be. For Sunday's race, the wind was just such that being on the left side of the line wasn't an advantage except for a very short section of road. I was only in the field for half of the race before being dropped, but I only saw one case where everyone went left. That said, we were also passing another (different category) race at the time, so that may be why.
At that very moment I was thinking, "Well, do I or don't I?" But before I could decide, I had to go to the left to avoid the other group (within the rules in that very case).
And that's that. I have a buddy and teammate in another category who was DQ'd for crossing the center line. Go figure.
And all that is to set up this...
I received my first penalty/relagation/punishment in 27 years of racing bicycles at this race. I was given a 5second penalty for failing to sign in on Stage 3. I was standing in front of the clipboard, waiting for the guy next to me to hand me the pen when the official takes the clipboard and says, "We have to stage NOW." Someone behind me shouts out his number. The official says "got it." Then another does the same. Then another. Official is writing down whatever next to the names/numbers. I tell him, "#16, Christian Williams. I'm here." He says, "Got it" and writes it down.
And now I know what was being written down.
4H4. Start
(a) Failure to report at starting time [warning];
(b) Failure to sign the starting or finishing sheet: $20 fine
So, now that I'm a cheater, and my "record" is flawed, the center line just doesn't seem like such a big deal any more. Maybe my feelings will change when the soreness isn't so bad that I can walk around normally. At least it was 5s penalty instead of $20. If someone would have made me pay, I would have certainly been knocked with:
4H1. Disqualification.
(h) Assaulting a competitor, an official or a third party;
or
(j) Engaging in grossly unsportsmanlike conduct;
Anyway, much has been made lately about the "centerline rule". Basically, we're not supposed to go on the left side of the center line of the road. Safety's sake is the biggest reason.
For the last 12 years, at least, I've made a conscious effort to not venture over the center line at all, even if it meant I was out of the draft and put in difficulty because of it. Not that big of a deal, really, except that it is a rule so completely abused that I have been, in many, many cases, just setting myself up to be dropped. The rule isn't enforced very often at all. Most of the time the punishment is that the person or official in the follow vehicle will honk the horn.
If you ever wondered what it sounds like in a p,1,2 race, listen to this. For 3-4 hours non-stop.
As I was saying, I've just made it a point to not go over to the left side of the road. It was easy enough there for a few years because I wasn't racing at the 1,2 level anyway. But I'm fitter now. And now it is costing me for reals. And while it was frustrating for a long time, now it just pisses me off.
There was a section of road for several miles on Saturday that we did a few times. The protected side (from the wind) was on the left. There was a point a few times in the race that every rider was completely to the left edge of the road, including the very first rider in the field. Except me. Over there on the right. I'd be out there like a complete idiot, but I was an idiot who was moving up. Eventually I'd have 5-6 riders on my wheel, and once or twice I even had someone pull through (take a turn on the front), but only once (ONCE) did anyone let me in to the echelon I created. And people wonder why the second echelon never seems to form in Texas.
The energy I expended in the race that could have been saved is not insignificant. I don't want to numb your brains with powermeter cycling dorkball stuff, but there is a stress/energy measurement we use in coaching called Training Stress. 100 points is the equivalent of going as hard as you can for 1 hour. I'm looking at a file here of a LSW family member who was at 191 TSS (training stress score) for the race. he was in the pack at the end. the race was 2hr48min or so.
My TSS was 291.
Typing that out and reading it doesn't make it sound as hard as it was. And I paid for it later in the day during the time trial.
That night we talked about our firm stance in not breaking the rules. I was cracking. The opinions expressed were unanimous that if it is a rule that isn't enforced, and nobody else is following it, it doesn't seem to be a rule worth following if the only person punished is the one following it. Our team had committed for some time to being the "right kind of riders". But in the discussion, some common sense was offered that "if the road is safe, and there's no penalty, keep yourself in the race". It was enough to convince me to "go to the left side".
At the start of stage 3 on Sunday, we were lectured (making it a consitent 100% for every race I've ever done) that the officials "really mean it this time". People were going to be disqualified for their safety, the safety of others, for insurance liability reasons, to maintain the peace with the locals and to make sure we never lose Texas road racing again."
"YEAH!", I thought. Not sure why I thought this would be any different, but I wanted it to be. For Sunday's race, the wind was just such that being on the left side of the line wasn't an advantage except for a very short section of road. I was only in the field for half of the race before being dropped, but I only saw one case where everyone went left. That said, we were also passing another (different category) race at the time, so that may be why.
At that very moment I was thinking, "Well, do I or don't I?" But before I could decide, I had to go to the left to avoid the other group (within the rules in that very case).
And that's that. I have a buddy and teammate in another category who was DQ'd for crossing the center line. Go figure.
And all that is to set up this...
I received my first penalty/relagation/punishment in 27 years of racing bicycles at this race. I was given a 5second penalty for failing to sign in on Stage 3. I was standing in front of the clipboard, waiting for the guy next to me to hand me the pen when the official takes the clipboard and says, "We have to stage NOW." Someone behind me shouts out his number. The official says "got it." Then another does the same. Then another. Official is writing down whatever next to the names/numbers. I tell him, "#16, Christian Williams. I'm here." He says, "Got it" and writes it down.
And now I know what was being written down.
4H4. Start
(a) Failure to report at starting time [warning];
(b) Failure to sign the starting or finishing sheet: $20 fine
So, now that I'm a cheater, and my "record" is flawed, the center line just doesn't seem like such a big deal any more. Maybe my feelings will change when the soreness isn't so bad that I can walk around normally. At least it was 5s penalty instead of $20. If someone would have made me pay, I would have certainly been knocked with:
4H1. Disqualification.
(h) Assaulting a competitor, an official or a third party;
or
(j) Engaging in grossly unsportsmanlike conduct;
Friday, March 14, 2008
1921-2008
Alexandrina "Reanie" Glasscock, our Apple Granny, passed away yesterday. She was one of the most interesting people I've ever known, and I look forward to writing the stories about her. Among them is that her pilot's license was approved and signed by Orville Wright, and she went on to be a Flight Instructor for the military in WW II.
It seems to me that a good way to live is for there to be some great stories we leave behind.
Friday, March 07, 2008
You may or may not know Troy...
...but this is what happens when he's left to care for his daughter while his wife, Roxanne, is away on business.
Or, it is what happens when people come over to our house. I guess it could go either way.
Ouch
My shoulder hurts from throwing so many snowballs at Noah. And for the record, he's about as elusive as the hot rolls at Golden Corral.
No school for the kids today
Clearly they didn't consult with those people who work from home when they decided to close school today. The thing is, I found out there was no school when I took Reanie to school. Granted, it is wet and slushy out there, but come on! I got there (with a minimal of 4wd) just fine.
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Did you know I have a minor in Recreation Administration?
Reanie is NOT afraid to be in a snowball fight, and even if you accidentally (I swear) hit her in the face, she will still keep after you. And if you happen to fall while running from her (and Mama), they will not will not show mercy.
All I really wanted to do here was impress Eurocrash with our Texas-sized snowman.
But the top piece fell off. And then we decided to quick take a picture before the rest came down. We weren't quick enough, though. The other snowmen we built were built soundly, but this one was just for show, and it shows asit starts to come down.
And it is showing who's boss.
Just started to snow again
Two snows in a week is unusual for us. That it is in March is that much more unusual. It's coming down pretty hard now. Tried to capture the thunder on the video too, but decided I didn't want to wait out there in the cold just so you could hear it.
I'm bummed that Reanie and Noah are in school right this moment, but from the looks of the forecast, we'll have this around for a day or so.
Two hours later and it is still coming down. They closed school early for the kids. At first I was thinking that it was an overeaction, but as I drove up there to get Reanie, it was clear that it was a smart choice. The buses will run on the normal schedule, though, so those kids get to hang out at school. Noah will be bummed, but he'll still get a couple of hours of daylight to goof around outside. Hawk Rd isn't passable. Well, in the Jeep it is, but I'm not one (usually) to be stupid just for stupid's sake.
And two more hours later...I'm not interested in video anymore. We're going to play.
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)