Purging without the bad breath

Dig far enough back in this blog (nobody is making you read this in the first place), you'll find posts about some kids from a team who has given Noah a hard time at the bike races. While the kinds of difficulty associated with making the races hard are welcome, and that can be the case with this other team, what usually stands out is their poor sportsmanship and general insulting nature.

On Saturday, our juniors said it was pretty much business as usual out there with the kids on this other team saying the normal stuff. Just bullies commenting on anything and everything just to try to get a reaction. Color of handlebar tape, that they are "gay", etc. But what really got Noah and our boys fired up is when when of these other riders called me an asshole.

I posted it up to Facebook that the incident happened, not mentioning names or even the team name, but it wasn't really necessary to do so. Anyone that spends time around junior racing (I think that at last count that this maybe all of a dozen people) in Texas knows who I'm talking about. But what amazes me is that some of the parents and people in the club claim that they had no idea that this behavior was going on.

In the past 3 or 4 years I've brought it up to their coaches and folks within their club. They seem to not recall these things, though at the time they assured me that they'd take care of it. Noah's been crashed twice, and both times the boy who caused it said he was going to do it, and then followed up, and then bragged about it. This isn't hearsay--I was standing right next to them when he said it.

So I have to ask, is anyone from this team watching these kids or listening to them talk? Because from the side of the road or course I can hear them say this stuff in the races. I hear it around the table at registration. I hear it around the parking lot. And I'm not the only one.

Yesterday (sunday) at the races, one of their parents says to me, "If my son said anything, you let me know, and I'll handle it." Honestly, I knew he was the parent of one of their kids, but I didn't know which one, and not all of the kids on this team are like this. My response was that the kids have been doing it for awhile, that this wasn't an isolated thing, and that *I'm surprised that anyone is making a thing about it at all now since it had been a thing for a long while and brought up to the parents and club previously.

Then he laid it out there heatedly, "Your son does it too. I've heard the stories. He talks as much trash as the rest of them." Which is rather funny, because moments before he wasn't aware that his boy did it at all. Turns out that he is the father of the kid who called me an asshole! And then he got loud with me about it telling me my kid is just as guilty...

While I don't want to be one of those parents who says, "Not my kid. No way" and then be surprised to find that they do drugs, collect stamps, or buy Nickelback CD's, I'm reasonably certain that Noah has never called this kid's dad an asshole.

But I think this guy was trying to say that Noah talks trash in races just like his kid who he didn't know was doing it. That is a math problem I'm having trouble solving.

Anyways, Noah was sitting with me when I posted up to Facebook that he could no longer race because of his trash talk. He laughed.

He laughed because he wasn't concerned about it being true. I suppose those who don't know him/us well would think it was because I wouldn't actually take racing away from him. What with what I do for a living and all that. Not so.

If I heard Noah cuss in a race at anyone or even about anything, he'd be done racing for a good long while. If I heard him talking the kind of trash I hear and picking on kids the way I hear them do to him and our other juniors (Imari puts up with a lot of crap too), he'd be done racing for a long while, if not for good.

Noah was once grounded from racing for two races because he didn't shake hands with a competitor after a race (yes, from that team). He insisted that he'd tried and that the boy just wouldn't let him. Convinced Noah was lying to me, he paid the price. That was a long drive home for him, and any time in the next week that I thought about it, my blood would boil in thinking that I had a kid who would not only lie to me, but do so over something like this.

He implored me to let him race. Offered to do chores above and beyond and below his pay grade. He promised that he did congratulate this boy, which would just make me madder.

That race weekend passed, we didn't even ride for a couple weeks. At the next race he asked me to watch what happens post race. Sure enough, when Noah tried, the kid pulled back and said, "Fucking loser" (or something similar to that effect. I wasn't close enough to hear the exact verbiage, but that first word was there). Noah ended up losing overall rider of the year that year by 18 points. That's less than what he'd get in one race. I no longer insist that Noah do the "good game" with them after the race.

Two years ago, Noah brought home a progress report that showed he had a B in a class. He was grounded from riding until he had a note from his teacher that it was brought back up to an A. Not once did we talk to the teacher about it. Noah had to take care of it himself.

So, when I hear that Noah is doing the same thing as these other kids, I may be in denial, but unless Noah is trying to passively quit racing, that just isn't happening out there, because the axe does fall hard when he gets out of line. Heck, it's fallen even when he didn't get out of line.

BUT, when they are mocking him in a race, and they ask, (use the tone of a sardonic teenager) "What is your strategy now, Noah?" and Noah responds, "I'm going to attack and try to drop you", that is not trash talk. That's a fact.

*ok, I'm not really surprised. I posted to Facebook as an experiment to see if it got a reaction. I learned something about our junior program that is different than this other one. They are concerned about how their team is perceived. I'm concerned about how our juniors actually are. If I was worried about perception, I wouldn't be running up and down the road hollering "Hit it" "go" "attack" "get a gap" "do it again" "and again".

our race strategy for darn near every race is simple and invariably the same. it isn't a secret. Attack. Attack. Attack. If we get caught, attack again. Repeat until we are gone and continue to make the other team(s) chase. And then attack that chase. We attack ourselves right out of races sometimes, but our kids are preparing to race at higher and higher levels, and they ride as a team to do it. They genuinely don't care who wins.

Noah didn't win a race this weekend, and he's as pleased as I've ever seen him post-race. He had a weekend of mixing it up with his teammates, and there were a couple of older, higher category juniors in there, and Noah was competing with them and holding his own. Sean picked up his first win in a "Cup" race. Imari continues to build upon his lead in the 10-14 Texas Cup. Hunter was out there riding apparently without pain sensors in his legs. It was summed up post-race when I asked, "What could you have done differently or better?" Everyone went to their limit. How we rode and performed was the best we could do this weekend.


Alright. This whole thing has now been purged from me. In the big picture, this is such a non-issue, but when I saw Noah vacillating between wanting to kick ass (with fists) and quit bike racing, it was worth doing something to try to put things closer back to center. I haven't seen Noah so ready to open up the throttle in a long while. This is going to be fun.

It's raining this morning. Noah thinks this is awesome. When it is raining, many others won't train, so it's like getting twice the benefit (if I could get him to clean the bikes afterwards, this would be so much better for me too).

Don't get me wrong, because if he wants to quit, I'm not going to stop him. Really. I mean, he's got some bike gear that I can use, and he just got new shoes that fit me too.

Public school is getting better

Upon leaving gymnastics last night...

Reanie: A girl in my class is twins!
Me: All by herself?
Reanie: Nooooo! With her sister.

I'm no fun to be around

I'm more productive and generally more pleasant on days I get to ride, even if it means I have less time to be productive after spending time to ride.

+

What with being sick, the hellacious wind doing damage to the house and chicken coop, there hasn't been time or even energy to ride.

=
Not many people around here appreciate my grumpiness.

I'm here to help

Cars are pulling out of the parking lot 25 yards from the finish of the time trial, so I stood there for a bit to make sure the kids who were finishing didn't have to take evasive action a second after crossing the finish line of a time trial. After a few minutes of this, I was told "Please move away from the road. We have racers finishing."

* * * * *

While at the crit, and with the second race on the course, a racer from a later category calls me on the phone and tells me there is a problem on the back side of the course, and hangs up. I'd just seen the field come through, and no kids were hollering "rider down" or anything, so I'm thinking we have an upset local.

Anyway, I run over to the other side of the course and see nothing. I stop, sort of scratch my head, and a rider about half way down the straight waves me over. I walk to him and he says, "If we move these cones and send the racers this way, we can add 600m and two turns to the course."

What would Steve Knight do? I said, "Thanks, but the course is what it is today. Maybe next time. Thanks for coming out. I've got to get back to work on the other side. Sorry."

* * * * * * *

It took until 3pm, but my battery finally died on my phone, so I couldn't take any more calls about "is the bike race still on?" "is the 4,5 race full?" "how many people are registered?" "Is the race at the football stadium? I can't find anyone here." (this particular person went to the UNT stadium) "what's the payout in the 3,4 race?"

* * * * * * * * *

The last call I took was from someone asking what time their race started. He gave me his name and his license number, as if I would have all that memorized. "Oh, license number 123456, your race is at 330."

All I could come up with was, "Ok, did you get my number from the race flyer?"

He says, "Yes" and then he reads me my number.

I said, "Ok, and that flyer is has the list of races and the start times. Do you see it?"

He says, "Yeah. Got it. Are these right?"

And then I just hung up. Bad customer service, I know. But I didn't want the next question to be, "will you chew my food for me and wipe my ass?"


* * * * * * * * * * *

And someone came up and said they won one of the cakes. But they didn't. I really, really hope this was some guy who really thought he'd won it and was mistaken than that he just lied to steal one. I can't believe we have to now have a system for cake prime collection.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

BUT, we had a record turn out for the venue. Some crispy and tired volunteers, but nobody seemed to be saying, "I don't want to do this anymore", like I usually say after putting on a race.


Ok, venting over. Back to work.

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.

Put your opposite foot forward when throwing, baby

I'm out in California pretty much goofing around with some teamnut dorkballers. Back home, yesterday Mama took the POSS2 to Lake Grapevine for some "adventures" and general rock chucking. Now I want to go home, even though we're sleeping with windows and doors open and the most important thing we're doing each day is riding our bikes in Santa Barbara.

I admit that I get homesick easily. I suffer guilt from being separated from the kids (not so much that I don't go on the trips at all, obviously). I talk to them daily, and I try to post pics in various places for them to see what we're doing and where we are. But when I see a picture of Reanie throwing rocks at the lake on a nice day and hearing about Buddy falling in the water (bbrrrr) and Noah having a strong ride without me, even the best fart jokes and sucker punches from good friends can't keep me from wanting to catch the next flight home.

I just don't want to miss any of it, even if it is something I've seen hundreds of times, like Buddy stuffing his mouth full of bread as if it were only going to be on the table for 20 seconds and he has to take all he can.

But here I am anyway, punching out some work (and updating this) while it is still dark in the morning here. Another solid day of riding and not much else on the agenda.

I'm pretty dang spoiled in getting to do this, and I remember that when we're going up some climb and I want to back off the effort. I've got a lot back home allowing me to do this, and to waste the opportunity would mean I'm not only away from home, dumping it all on Chloe, but also pissing away this window to be all about me.

No complaints here about being sore, or that the ride is long or that the climb is hard, or that I only have a 27t and not a 28t. No complaints about my weight (my own fault anyway). No complaints.

Now, I'm not going to say that "I'm doing this for them," because this is a selfish sport, at least in the sense of training for it, and really, since I'm not paid to train or race, there's nothing I'm contributing to them or the family at all with trying to race and training to race. It would be disrespectful to not take this opportunity I'm given now that I'm actually here.

Tough choices to make this morning. Vest or no vest and wear an undershirt? Do we leave at 1030 or 1100? Do I want an omlet with fish and avacado or eggs over easy w/ hashbrowns, bacon and pancakes for breakfast? Sushi or Italian for dinner? Take the third water bottle in my pocket and have more to drink and have it bounce on my back on the climbs, or take my chances that I can fill up somewhere along the way?

See? It ain't just smelling whatever comes out of Troy's butt and games here.

On being Buddy

Yeehaw!

Aunt Jennie reading to the cousins


Daddy pissed that there's a weight limit on the thing


Arkeolojists

Just me and you. Mano e Bevo

It's ok. They're not really bears. Just pretending.

I guess Buddy could have been driving at the time.

Less mud on the Buddy Express

Feeding

San Patricio Metro

It is not Buddy's fault the lake is so dry right now.

Family. And presents.

I'm pretty sure I'm having more fun than Buddy here.

Pics are from my rock star b-i-l, Lonne IV

Buon Natale

Bonus track:

Blogging, twittering, and facebooking...Oh my!

good golly! I used to hand write training plans and then snail maill or fax them along. I even stuffed them into ziploc bags now and then and handed them over on training rides. This was back when you'd get an AOL disc in the mail and with the newspaper every day. It isn't that I'm a luddite as much as it is that I'm just slow to want to jump in and learn the new device. I don't want to spend an hour figuring out how my phone works. Show me the numbers to dial and the button to press to answer. "Oh, but your phone can do so much more!" Yeah, but do I really want my phone to take my temperature (for a $3.99 app fee)?

But in the last couple of months I've picked up an iPhone, created a twitter account, a facebook account, and got some new big flat screen HD tv thing.

On my desk is still a moleskin, steno book, a 2 column hardcover accounting book, and a couple pencils. One of which needs sharpening.

Also on my desk is a USB thing that allows 5 ports for the one into my lap top. Plugged into those are a powertap cradle, an SRM cradle, the iPhone synching and charging thing, and a plug to go to my external hard drive which is connected to my other lap top next to me. I also have a heart shaped calculater that I got from Reanie that she earned at school for standing in line or being quiet during a play or something. It replaced the simple yellow one I bought on my way to my statistics final in grad school. That one lasted 8 years. cost me a dollar. and I still can't believe I forgot my calculator on my way to a grad school statistics final.

Among some cluttered paper stuff is also a tea pot that Chloe's uncle Nino gave Nuccia when her parents got married. I also use a wool sock as a wrist pad thing for the mouse (wireless, of course) to the computer.

It's kinda trailer park here at my desk, but at least it is an Airstream.

Weekends

Last weekend was one of the best weekends of my life. Annual Nutcracker date with Reanie on Sunday, slept in an hour on Saturday, massive breakfast and then gut bomb ride with Noah, drove down to Austin for the TXBRA Texas Cup awards, saw 10 LSW family members pick up their championship jerseys, picked up one myself, had Bonnie say some nice things about me while my kids played in a bar, scored a Festina watch, all while my Mom and family were see it, went on a great ride with a great group of folks from Austin Bicycles, watched Noah do some grown up stuff on the bike, had Scottie pull for about an hour, and then went to Central Market for lunch right after the ride and heard a really cool band (porterdavis) play.

Then drove home.

This weekend, we squeezed in a 10 mile ride on Friday, slept in today (yes!), had some homemade pecan cinnamon rolls, about to go ride, wil sort out the new team kit, ride with Noah, we're putting on a race tomorrow in Denton, and then I'm pulling the parts off of my bike to put on Noah's bigger frame so Royce can get this frame, and then I'll get my stuff from my old bike on my new frame...it'll work out, I think.

Whew.


Happy birthday Rob Strange and Mark Kuithe! Our team will never get a Continental license now.

On being a parent

Things you wouldn't think you'd ever have to say--

Hey, you stop licking each other's teeth.

Preview blog post

Waiting for a few more pics to get here as well as catch my breath. Great weekend

Mama, I think Noah is taller than you now.

Thank you, Libby, for sending this to me

My favorite night of the year

Nutcracker.

During the performance, Reanie asked me if we could come back every year, even when she was old, like thirteen.

Reanie's Mama made her dress.



And i'm incapable of keeping my eyes open when there is a flash.
Yes, I've tried that.
And that too.

On being a badass.

I had a soy latte this morning. Not because I'm trying to be some supergranolahero about it, but because we are out of skim milk.

Starting to smell a lot like Christmas

Hooper

Noah played his first basketball game ever. Safe to say he was the best bike racer on the court. But they don't put that kind of thing on the scoreboard. He picked up a couple baskets, made a few steals, grabbed some rebounds, and ran back and forth down the court a lot. Mostly, though, their team played well and soundly routed the other team, which happened to be his old school.

No previous organized basketball experience for most of these kids. Further, it was obvious that this was the highest "level" of anything most had competed. It was a blast to watch these kids grow in the matter of four 8 minute quarters.

Reanie, Buddy and "cousin" Anelise were bleacher monkeys, which is part of the fun too. Every once in awhile one of them would pop up, yell "Go Noah", whether he was on the court or not.

Mixed bag

--Chloe and I saw Sarah Brightman Wednesday. A lot of gay people like Sarah Brightman. Made for double the entertaiment. Anyway, in the show there was a computer projected back drop deal. During one of the songs, Sarah was sort of dressed up like a cross between Alice in Wonderland and Little Red Riding Hood. She was on a stationary bike. Playing behind her were some people (computer projected, but life size) on BMX bikes riding behind her doing stunts. They were wearing wolf masks. Hmmm, where have I seen that before? Really, really strange, because I had no idea that it was part of her show. Just coincidence.

--Noah has won a couple cat 4 races on the track against the adults. It helps that he's got some teammates out there.

--While at the grocery store the other day, Reanie grabbed my hand just to hold hands. Not crossing the street. Not a busy crowd. Just holding hands. We just walked around for awhile because I couldn't remember what I was supposed to get for a moment.

--We've opted against speech stuff for Buddy. Instead, he's going to take Mixed Martial Arts. In the long run, it's probably more effective in dealing with people who tease him. Besides, "Yeth, Thirw" sounds cute.

--Noah made the basketball team at school. He seems to be enjoying it except for maybe the being at school at 645am part.