Covering the bases....

Before I leave I figured I would dump my brain out and leave for Colorado a little lighter.

First off, someone posted in my comments last week that I was on page 86 of the new Mountain Bike Action this month (which is August... don't bother looking at your calenders). I went to go look at it at the bookstore, but it won't hit the shelves till July 2nd. I headed over to MBAction.com and checked out their web version preview and saw that they had an article about 24 hour racing titled: Your First 24-Hour Race:Ten tips that will make it fun. Well, who knows fun and 24 hour racing like yours truly?

Anyways, my best guess was that they put an old photo of me from the 2006 24 Solo Worlds in the article, the same one they used back in December 2006. The one you see here:

Sorry, that's my shitty scanner in full effect.

Well Mike of Charlotte, NC has verified my suspicions, and this is what is now "current news":

World Champs get all the press.

Same photo, different caption. Apparently they knew this 26'er rider would be a future 29'er rider. Wow, MOOTS is gonna be so happy to see me get some press... on my Dean wearing my Race Face kit.... oh well. At least I'm heating up the rivalry. Everyone knows I'm the one who was pushing Craig Gordon and Chris Eatough to their limits that year.

What else...

Remember back in February when I announced I was anemic:

The doctor put me on iron supplements, and told me to come back in two months. When I came back my hemoglobin numbers were even worse. She wanted me to go to a gastroenterologist to get my insides scoped for internal bleeding. The Pie (RN) told me there was an easy take home test version to check for what is called "occult blood". Without getting into too many details I found out there was no bleeding which was a relief since the "C" word got tossed out there by the doc in our conversation.

I found out I was taking the iron supplement with the wrong foods at the wrong time of day. I also did a lot of searching and found out that vegetarian endurance athletes often have these problems. One year to the day of going vegetarian I ate my first piece of meat. I won't get too much into the decision, but suffice to say I made it and went at it for two months.

At some point during the second two month period I realized I know a certain smart somebody who has made nutrition her focus in life, education, and future occupation. I called Namrita, and she gave me her very informed opinion. I was on the wrong track, but now I was on the right track, and I heard "Why didn't you call me back in February?"

I got my latest lab results last Friday. I am no longer anemic. My numbers aren't really great, but they're heading in the right direction. What sucks is that all the numbers related to getting oxygen to my muscles are below average. Great news before heading to elevation, right? Oh well, better's better than worser.

The anemia thing and the altitude problem were my two reasons to stop the whole ten pound weight loss plan for Breck Epic. It was gonna do me more harm than good on so many levels to drop the weight so fast at a time when my body needed to be as recovered as possible and a lot less anemickey (my word).

So, do I have a plan for the Breck Epic? Sure. I'm gonna go for it... at least for the first few days. I'm serious, no alcohol, abundant hydration, proper nutrition, adequate sleep... all that stuff that the pundits claim is important to make great bike race.

But...

If by the third or fourth day I'm totally outta contention I'm changing gears (figuratively, not literally) and turning it into an ORAMM training camp. I'll hit the beers and lower my expectations... drastically lower my expectations. Instead of going for the podium I will go after moral victories by trying to beat Jake Kirkpatrick, Peter Keiller, Tomi McMillar, Mike Ferrentino, and Jasen Thorpe. Beating them will be nothing more than blog fodder and ammo for any future pissing matches, but if things turn south I'll take it.

So that's it. I leave tomorrow. I'm not sure if I'll get back on here to blog before the race or not. I'll be spending the first few days on the road with Peter and visiting the MOOTSFolks. Yeah, yeah... sleeping with the enemy while visiting family. You know what they say "Keep your friends close, your enemies closer, and Peter away from small livestock". Maybe I'll sneak off into a closet at MOOTSheadquarters with someone's laptop when no one's looking and update the blog with a MOOTS-O-RAMA pre-Breck report. If not, be sure to look for daily updates over at MOUNTAINBIKE.COM once the race starts this SUNDAY. I might get over here to give you a direct daily link to my race reports, but maybe not. If I stay away from my tent too long Peter may try to stuff it full of live chickens and farm porn, so I gotta stay mobile and on full alert status.

Most importantly, I can't wait to meet Breck Epic promoter Mike McCormack and give him a hug.

Bumble bee tuna!!

I've got perfect balance

So en route to completing a delivery quite some time ago I belled up Industry Nine:

Hello, Industry Nine. This is Brandi.

Hey Brandi, Rich Dillen...

*sigh* Yes, Rich?

Hey, I was checking out Harlan's high zoot wheels* when I was out at Dirt, Sweat, and Gears. Pretty sweet how you guys managed to trim a lot of weight to produce a race ready, super-light wheel.

and....?

Well I was wondering if you guys could hook me up with some super light wheels?

Well Rich, you deserve it more than anybody else. Send in your stuff, and we'll hook it up.

So I got my new wheels on Friday, and within moments of opening the box I was on the horn with Industry Nine again:

Hello, Industry Nine. This is Jeff.

Hey Jeff, Rich Dillen

*sigh* Yes, Rich?

Why do you guys always sigh when I say it's me? Ahhhh, doesn't matter. I got my wheels, and they're not quite right.

Whaddaya mean?

Well they're just not what Brandi and I talked about.

What's wrong with them? Brandi told me you wanted super white wheels, and that's what you got.

*sigh*


All right, those conversations never took place, but it would have made a better story than the truth.

In actuality I decided I wanted to swap the front Stan's 355 out for a Flow. I think either I could feel the front wheel flex (unlikely) or the 2.35 Rampage squirm on the narrow rim at the low pressures I like to run (more than likely). When I stopped by the Industry Nine headquarters on my way to DSG I was planning on picking up a Flow rim and the right length spokes to make the swap. While I was there Jeff showed me the new white rims, and I knew they would probably take my bike to eleven. Jeff said "More like twelve", and it was a done deal.

Well the Flows came in stock last week, so my wheels came apart, hubs and spokes were sent through time and space, and the end result is perfection... in the most loud, God awful, and certainly sinister way.

The rear was swapped out to an Arch rim. Yeah, it weighs more than a 355, but with some stage races coming up in some harsh terrain it seemed like it was worth the small weight penalty. All in all my "race wheelset (white Arch/Flow combo) weighs in somewhere around 20 grams lighter than my old wheelset (black Flows front and rear), but they produce 85% more fjear just looking at them, so while they are not much faster they do slow the competition down a bit.

Last night I watched Vision Quest. Seemed like a good movie to watch before I head off to Colorado. Louden Swain had to lose 23 pounds to fight Shute, and I was trying to lose 10 pounds before the Breck Epic. He had lofty, seemingly unattainable goals, and I too have lofty, seemingly unattainable goals. He liked to sniff women's underwear, and I... well I'm forty years old, and I've already smelled my fair share. There were more important things to think about though...

Is Charlie Hayes my Shute?

Is Peter my Kooch?

Who knows. Doesn't matter. I'm not gonna have Journey, Foreigner, or Madonna providing a soundtrack to my story, so who would watch it anyways?

Hey TSA Agent Man, leave my MOOTS alone.

*Harlan loves his wheels and his bike. He talks about them all the time. If you wanna see Harlan talking about his bike click over and watch him. It's quite fascinating. I just look into his eyes and melt as his voice trickles into my ears.

"I'm sorry", and the final weekend of prep

I have to apologize to my wife, my kids, and my blog fans. Yesterday when I said I had spent Wednesday in Columbia, SC tubing (the same day same day some guy gave a speech in Columbia that didn't mention he tried to impeach a president for doing the same thing he was apologizing for) I was lying. I was actually thru-hiking the entire Appalachian Trail in one day with a Bolivian hat maker....

I have to apologize to my wife, my kids, and my blog fans. Just now when I said that on Wednesday I was thru-hiking the entire Appalachian Trail in one day with a Bolivian hat maker I was lying. Wednesday I was actually stalking Jill Homer on the Tour Divide while riding a Chilean donkey and listening to the soundtrack of Evita on my pink iPod Shuffle.



I have to apologize to my wife, my kids, and my blog fans. I was actually in Columbia Wednesday, and on that day we drove by the capitol building and saw all the reporters and thought "What's going on?" I know celebrity death is nothing to joke about, but Governor Sanford has to be pretty excited that Micheal Jackson and Farrah Fawcett have bumped him right off the front page in one day.

I know this is a bike blog, but I have to admit I was a bit taken aback when I heard about Micheal. I roller skated to the Off the Wall album, stayed up late to watch the premier of the Thriller video, and I'm sure at some point or another I'm sure I danced to his music (there was probably beer involved).

Anyways...

A big email went out this week from Breck Epic promoter Mike McCormack listing some mandatory gear we need to carry on every stage.

1. Rain shell/jacket
2. First-aid kit
3. Multi-tool
4. Survival blanket

I've been to a few stage races, and I've seen mandatory lists before. I've also seen a lot of people chuck the mandatory gear after seeing the pros show up at the start line with two water bottles and some not-so-bulging jersey pockets. Jeff Kerkove has already posted his intentions to carry only the finest stuff a guy could want in the back woods, and Tomi has even admitted that his original game plan has been thrown for a bit of a loop with the additional gear he had not counted on carrying. I had a general idea as to what I was going to carry, and how I was gonna carry it, but now I'm back to square one too.

I want to do my best to NOT carry a hydration pack. The aid stations are around 15 miles apart, so at altitude I think I'm stretching myself a little thin with two water bottles, but I'll know pretty quickly if I'm on the wrong track or not. I've got some cheap single layer GoreTex rain coat I bought at a swap meet rolled up tight with some cut up innertubes. I rarely ever carry a "multi tool", but I do carry multiple tools, so hopefully I'll make the cut there. Maybe if I duct tape them together I can turn them into a "multi tool". If all else fails maybe I'll bring my multiple tools and my "Multipass" and see how far that gets me.

I've got a survival blanket, and since I'm not carrying a camera there's plenty of room for that in my jersey. First aid kit? I've always been of the notion that if it can't be fixed with some duct tape, an innertube, and a jersey you better cover up with your emergency blanket and start blowing your whistle. Anything that can be treated with Tylenol and band aids can be ignored till you get to the finish line. That's just my personal and very unprofessional opinion. I've read Mountain Bike Action enough to catch the occasional "How to re-attach a severed head on the trail with duct tape, a patch kit, and a whittled down stick" articles to know what I'm doing.

This weekend is the big packing night. One bike box and one bag at fifty pounds each, and one carry on that tests the limits of the flight attendants patience and understanding. We'll see how that goes...

Tubes and Moustaches

Yesterday The Pie and I took the day off to spend it together. This was an unprecedented event precipitated by the ponderous absence of both our youts. We went down to the home town of the greatest, most bombastic bike distributor warehouse in the world, Columbia, SC to hop in a couple of innertubes and float down a river. I'm sure the local Hoffencharders will let me know just how disgusting the locals think the river is, but I assure you I kept my mouth closed and my anus puckered the whole time. The entire entubed trip was supposed to last around three hours, but through the inefficient efforts of my paddling I cut the time down to 1.5 hours and ended up abrading my elbow pits on the tube in attempt to take the "lazy" out of the river. I think I see a market for Stan here: Stan's No-Innertubes river trips... I guess some might just call that swimming... whatever.

I did not ride a bike all day. In fact I barely touched a bike at all aside from replacing the grips on the Meatplow for the fourth time in what feels like the last four weeks. As the kids say, the bike is "dialed"... well except the wheels. They are currently in Asheville, or in a box on their way back to me already. Exciting things are happening, and you too shall be in on the secret soon enough. When it is all said and done and the staggering folks are coupling up at closing time I will be putting another fashionable trend to rest by including myself amongst the throngs of lemmings that jump and say "How high?" whenever there's a new wave to ride to the beach of cool just because someone with a marketing degree knows we have the propensity to drop everything just to stay on the cutting edge of every absolutely fabulous fad.

No one rides this moustache for free.

Cowbell Damage Report

After the Cowbell it was time to assess the damage done to both me and the bike. Apparently my Thomson faceplate figured out a way to get to the rocks on Saturday:

I have another faceplate laying around, but I think I'll leave this one on to remind me of the good times.

As I went over the bike I noticed my rear tire was low. I stuck it in a tub to check for leaks, but I never saw any air bubbles. Looking closer I saw the tell tale Stan's burp sputum on the sidewall, and I remembered rolling off the side of one of the skinny bridges early in the race. I put a gauge to the tire, and it came up with 10.5 PSI. Now I am more convinced than ever that my brain had actually melted because that means I never realized I was rolling around with incredibly low pressure for hours. I knew I'd suffered some brain melt, as Big Worm told me when I was quitting/not quitting I wasn't speaking clearly and quite possibly another language. Even when I got home The Pie said I was slurring my words. I was wondering why I had such great traction going up that final loose, rocky climb on the last four or so laps (and also why my bike felt slower than normal).

How am I doing?

This is bending nicely again (as if I had a choice with my line of work). It's still sore and a little swollen, but nothing that won't be healed up in a week.. I think. My shoulder is still sore and I think the stress of the race gave me a nice cold sore and a swollen lymph node. Definitely the signs of making great bike race.

Even with a Master's podium I'm still a bit disappointed. The wreck took a lot out of me, and I faded away from folks like Dejay, Eric Hagerty, Dave Hall and a few others I had my eye on. My lap times were downright miserable after the fall, and... blah, blah, blah. Wrecks happen, and I need to get over it I guess. Live to fight another day and all that shit.

One week till I leave for Colorado. Nothing packed, some things still in the air, and I get to watch my bruise go away to pass the time.

Move along....

I get to play the card one more time before I leave:

The third and final installment of my Breck Epic pre-race blogs has been posted over at MountainBike.com. Once again I have spewed forth 1,000+ words that you won't see here, so you have to go there to get your "Dick on". References to Mork and Mindy, Danny Trejo, and that evil-doer Charlie Hayes abound, and you're not gonna know what all the buzz is about at the water cooler this morning if you don't read it (Is there actually more than one person in your workplace reading my blog? Do you actually have a water cooler?).

I assure you it's worth reading. I spend way more time writing that stuff for the other guys than I do on my ramblings here. I get way more creative and use things like adverbs and adjectives, and I even check my grammar. Admittedly the editor at Mountain Bike (Jasen Thorpe) goes through each article and inserts some grammatical errors to keep the whole thing more "genuine"... you know, more "Team Dicky"? Whatever. He's the one with the "job" and the cool title...

I leave in one week for Breck. Can you feel it baby?

I can. Come get awesome with me.

If you missed the first two pre-Breck Epic articles you should call in sick and read them now:

Breck Epic Blog: Undies or Brakes? And Other Crucial Decisions

Breck Epic Blog: Un-Training

Cowbell Marathon 2009

Saturday evening when I got home from the Cowbell I tried to piece together the race when The Pie asked me how it went. The 115 degree heat index was not only still messing with my body, my brain functions were definitely on some lower level. I felt like Jon Krakauer when he wrote the first draft of Into Thin Air. The facts were all hazy, and the sequence of events jumbled as I tried to figure out everything that happened between the hours of 10:00am and 3:30 pm. Here's how I remember it.

Before heading out to the race I woke up with a weird idea. Since I turned 40 this last Wednesday it seemed like fate was pushing me towards pulling out of the single speed class and entering my first master's race. I got there, swapped classes, enjoyed the Stabby shuttle into town for the start, and peed before the start (I would not pee again for @ seven hours).

The start was a heinous paved section 6.3 miles from the trail where we would be doing six 8 mile laps. I'm not sure how the superstar single speeders do it, but I can never stay with the main field very long in these kinda conditions. I was well off the back by the time I rolled into the Fisher Farm trails and looking to sift my way through all the folks who had put me behind them on the road.

All photos from Big Worm

I found myself in good company on the first lap. I was with SSlOhio Rob and local Eric Hagerty, and I could see Carey Lowery and Rebecca Rusch from time to time up ahead. I did my best to not over exert myself on the steep climbs remembering that I attacked them last year and ended up dropping out from all the stupid efforts I made throughout the course of the day.

Here's where things get fuzzy (not Fuzzy) in my brain. At a spot where I can't imagine some one would ever wreck (and according to local trail coordinator Mark Sullivan I'm probably the first person to do so) something happened... I clipped a pedal or hit a root or something... and was chucked into the air and landed down in a culvert on the opposite bank onto (and my memory is fuzzy here again) some rip-rap. I gathered myself outta the ditch and felt some pain in my shoulder, pinky, and left thigh. I checked over the bike and everything looked good, so I figured I would get rolling before I got stiff and do a better analysis of my condition on the fly. I wasn't too badly beat up, but I did suffer a nasty contusion on my thigh that felt sorta like a cramp in progress.. a Charlie horse I guess.

When I cleared the singletrack and headed out to the hot, exposed field section I reached down for an overdue drink of something only to find that my bottle had probably ejected during my unplanned flight. Heading out on the most exposed part of the course where I planned on doing the majority of my drinking without a beverage was a bit of a concern as the temps had to have been well into the 90's by this time. I did get a swig of something that tasted a lot like urine from a fellow racer, and it was by my best estimate the same temperature. Better than nothing, but I did wonder if that guy had bet his friends he could get Team Dicky to drink his urine...

Anyways...

When I went out my third lap Dejay was busy goofing off and wreaking havoc in my pit when I thought he should have been busy winning the SS class. We rode together for a bit talking and what not. He told me he was gonna do four laps and quit. The heat was stupid, and it was near impossible to stay hydrated. I hung with Dejay as long as I could, but since we were on different agendas (I actually wanted to finish) I rode on slowly and languidly.

My thigh was none too thrilled with my decision to carry on, and my leg didn't really want to keep bending. My pace reflected my inability to use my left leg like a... left leg, and I started dropping back into an unfamiliar place in the main field. As I was finishing up my fourth lap Harlan and another top male came by me, lapping me, which was something I hardly thought would happen. The top four females were outta sight, and had been for quite awhile. I recalled my goals from last week for the race were "to not suck, quit, or get hurt". Apparently the only one still on the table was "not quit".

I headed out for my fifth lap and my stomach continued to feel like it was fatally attracted to my spine. My leg was really protesting any more movement, and I just couldn't see the point in going on. About a mile or two into my fifth lap I pulled the plug. As fate would have it right at the point where I decided to bail Big Worm was standing there with a camera (just like last year). We chatted for awhile, and then I headed over to the timing tent to turn in my transponder.

Before I handed in my chip race announcer Bruce Dickman gave me his usual set of verbal jabs and dumped some ice on my head. I decided I wanted to know what place I was in when I quit, just for piece of mind. I heard the timer guy mumble something that I thought sounded like ninth, and I thought that was a great reason to finish my day. He then did not mumble when he said "Second, you're in second in the masters class".

F#@k.

I have quit way too many races while sitting in second (including last year's Cowbell). It stings more than you would know (unless you have done it five or six times in the last decade). I decided I would rather keep moving and hope for the best knowing that I would rather go out and cramp in the woods and die trying than to just quit in the comfort of my pits. I went back to the point on the course where I ditched and started back up at it.

Those last two laps were some kinda struggle. I did not know if I lost a place or two with all the time I spent quitting/not quitting. At least I wasn't gonna quit this thing, thus achieving one of my three goals, and keeping my record clean of DNF's this year. My leg felt like a brick, my shoulder was too tweaked to really stand up hard on the climbs, and my stomach reminded me every once and awhile that something was rotten in Denmark.

I came in from the sixth lap and finished in something like 5:30+. After I got my head straight (er) I went over to check the results to see that I ended up third. Stranger still, Dejay (who was going to quit) ended up passing all the other single speeders who didn't drop out (attrition was incredibly high that day) and won the SS class. My hat goes off to everybody who managed to stick it out for 55 miles under such conditions. I heard the EMS crew kept busy throughout the latter part of the day assisting riders who went just a bit too far.

That night as I watched Benjamin Button on TV my middle toe on my right foot cramped in a very downward pointing position. I went from screaming to laughing as I'd never seen such a thing. I even called The Pie over to look at the anomaly. I guess my toe had taken the brunt of the heat and action all day. I never knew.

Yeah, well, you know, that's just, like, your opinion, man.

I've been so busy sweating the details for the Breck Epic in two weeks that I haven't done much preparing for the Cowbell Marathon this weekend. This will be my first Cowbell without my Suzuki Samurai in my pits, and it stings just a little knowing it won't be in my corner. That little truck-like thing had some mojo.

Anyways...

Sounds like there's gonna be a competitive SS class, so whatever. I'll do what I can all the while keeping my eye on the prize. The single speed class goes off with the open pros and masters, while the amateurs and teams go off 15-45 seconds later. Should be a nice bit of mayhem trying to stay out front on the 6.3 mile road section before we hit the very tight 4+ miles section of singletrack. Have I said "meh" yet?

Team Dicky Cowbell History Lesson:

2003: I was leading the solo class on my Ellsworth Truth going into the second lap of the 12 hour race. My American Classic wheel blew the hell up, and after unsuccessfully cruising the pits for a new wheel I went home and went hamster shopping with my family. Tyler Benedict (Bike Rumor guy) took the win (and my pride) home with him that day.

2004: I ended up 4th solo male on my not-yet-rigid single speed. This was my first endurance race on a single speed ever.

2005: The promoter opened up a single speed class, and I win it. Hooray for the local boy done good.

2006: Local boy wins the SS class again (ho-hum)... I came close to the first place solo male (Eddie O'Dea) finishing eight minutes back, and missing out on my dream of being first overall on my SS.

2007: I had to skip the event to attend some lame ride with Mark Weir in Downieville. Mom says I'm still a winner. In truth I only skipped out because I heard Fuzzy and Dejay were coming to town, and I owed them money.

2008: I went out hard in some nasty heat and came down with some weird stomach stuff that took me outta the race while running in second place. Did I just hear you say "Awwwwww..."? Too bad for me, but at least I'm motivated to come back this year and not quit.

2009: This year will be a new format. The race has always been a 12 hour jobber, but this year it's a 55+ mile marathon. My hopes are to not suck, quit, or get hurt. High aspirations, I know, but when it comes right down to it all I can think about is July 5th.

I won't be blogging tomorrow AM. Since I've been pissing away all my spare time polishing my MOOTS for a GQ cover shoot I've neglected to prepare for this weekend. Sorry, but perhaps you can go peruse the new cyclingnews.com which changed it's format recently (but not its anti-Team Dicky stance). I don't like it, but that's because I'm geriatric now, and I hate anything new. Look over their site, try to find some contact info (I couldn't), and tell them what you think of the new site and that this anti-Team Dicky aggression will not stand.

"I'm really digging this new White Russian flavored Cytomax."

Sometimes I get the cramps real hard

Sorry. I just couldn't think of a better way to start this post than one of the most brilliant lines ever written.

Today is my birthday... my fortieth birthday. To be honest I don't know what to say about that. A few years back I thought I would be going into my 41st birthday with no dependents (The Boy graduates in 2010), and my plan was to get a much more low key job that allowed me to travel and do stupid long self-supported events. Now I am the father of a wonderful seven year old girl, and I'm in for another tour of duty. Amazing.

What really sucks is that I selected the topic of my birthday for today's post, but my ambivalence about turning 40 has me sitting here staring into space (kinda like I'm at a pre-race riders' meeting). As per my request there will be no cake or ice cream tonight, and if I'm lucky my family will have acquiesced my request to receive no gifts this year.

I am fortunate to be in a better place than I ever woulda imagined a half life ago. I've got the job I would have never thought I could do well into adulthood (I went to college to be a teacher), I have a great family.... wait a second. This is getting all mushy and shit, and that's not how my birthday's going down either.

Damn...

I started to write some more, and it went the wrong direction again. Topics like Social Security, my late father, and all manner of gloom and doom that would seem inappropriate on this day of my birth. I'd better stop while I'm ahead.

To all my homophobic readers:
Sorry about the penis

So happy birthday to me. Drink one for me... better yet drink two so I don't have to. You know I'm watching my figure.

AYHSMBB
All You Haters Suck My Birthday Balls

Six Degrees of Ed Asner

I had to call Breck Epic promoter Mike McCormack last night about a matter that would have global implications and perhaps change the course of history itself... the kinda topic where email just couldn't hack the expediency of the issue at hand. This was my first conversation using actual human voices with Mike, and it was kinda weird to talk to him after more than six months of shooting emails back and forth. I can't discuss the matters that were discussed, but suffice to say Mike has me beat hands down when it comes to throwing irrelevant references to pop culture into everyday conversations. Somehow he worked in Ed Asner's character from a Saturday Night Live skit called "Ambiguous Man" and a scene from the breakout Kevin Costner flick Fandango. His seamless introduction of such topics into our call really threw me a curveball, and when I woke up this morning I totally forgot all the relevant matters we discussed as I dreamt of Ed Asner and Kevin Costner all night.

I've decided to attack the problem of altitude in a new way, I'm going to ignore it. Instead I'm going to focus all my anger and pent up frustration towards the one human I feel stands in the way of my ultimate victory at Breck Epic... Charlie Hayes.

I did my research. Charlie has won the single speed class at the Leadville 100 three times in a row. He lives at elevation, and apparently vacations on Mt Olympus. He's handsome, fit, sponsored by the corporate aggressors of the bike world who bought the SSWC09 race with blood money (Trek/Fisher/Subaru/Bontrager/Haliburton), quite large, and apparently not afraid to cross swords with yours truly.

He is my Ivan Drago.

He is my El Guapo.

Do not fear, people of Santo Poco. I will save you from this evil man and thwart his attempts of stealing the SS win in the name of the evil doers. I know my enemy, and it is not altitude, or cross country travel, or the epic'ish course, or the rigidity of my rigid single speed... no, it is you Charlie Hayes. You will die like a dog... only in the figurative sense of course.

In the words of my biggest hero, John J Rambo:

"Charlie Hayes, I'm coming for you."

in other irrelevant news...

I've had an unprecedented amount of traffic the last two days. Upon further review I think the FBI is looking at my blog pretty closely since Fatty told the world that I'm stalking Jill Homer. Just because I have her SPOT as my home page and her image as my screensaver does not make me a sociopath. Sure, there are other things that make me a sociopath, but not those things. Please Fatty, I beg you. Retract your statement and call off the hounds. I don't want the Feds showing up here and finding the shit ton of EPO I've been hoarding in order to BEAT CHARLIE HAYES. Did I mention I want to BEAT CHARLIE HAYES??

Groundwork being laid...

And some being removed

Well I did a lot of research on preparing for altitude (research meaning sitting here and googling shit), and what I learned was semi disturbing. The best thing I can do from this point on is to back off from what I've been doing. Ride time needs to be cut back substantially very soon, and weight loss is sorta out the window. In order to lose weight I was cutting some calories and riding more, but without the extra riding part I doubt I'm gonna come close to my "ideal" climbing weight. Meh.

Supposedly you don't wanna go to altitude depleted in any sort of manner. No matter what kinda shape you're in the altitude is gonna knock you down a few notches, so you wanna be as recovered as possible. I'm realizing it's not the climbing (and the weight keeping me from climbing faster) that's gonna hurt the most, it's gonna be the fact that I can't get oxygen to my muscles like I'm used to here at 800 feet above sea level. Did I mention "meh"?

So this week I'm leading into the Cowbell Marathon on Saturday, and then from that point on I'm kicking back and doing about as little as possible. There would be enough time for me to recover from the effort of the Cowbell and start ramping back up, but apparently I'd be ramping up for more pain than necessary. In other words my training is going to be less training and more resting, and I think I can live with that. I could use the extra time to sort through my shit in an effort to get my gear under the 50lb/one bag US Airways weight limit.

Honestly I'm sitting here dumbfounded at the moment and wondering what I can drill holes into to save weight in my luggage, so I'm gonna bring this post to a close and stare off into space now.

Morning weight report:
deemed pointless

BTW: This girl (Deanna Adams) is rocking/rolling/riding/racing the Tour Divide on a fixed gear. No MAN has ever done it before, so I'm pulling for her. Follow her on SPOT here.

photo stolen from Chris Plesko's wife Marni

It's not always (all) about me

I realize I haven't even got the Breck Epic outta the way yet, and I'm already feeling stoked about another stage race for 2009. Yes, I'm a spoiled rotten dick head. Even though I'm gonna get to race for six days in beautiful Colorado in less then three weeks my eyes are already on another bout of self inflicted suffering on a bike in the mountains this October. I'm talking about the Pisgah Mountain Bike Stage Race.

The two stage races have a few things in common, and a few differences. They both start and finish in the same general area every day to save on the logistics portion, they're both in the US and A, and they both offer a single speed category. Breck Epic is six days, 200 miles and 40,000 feet of climbing, and PMBSR is four days, 145 miles, and 38,000 feet of climbing. Breckenridge has shorter days, but due to the fact that everything is above 10,000 feet I'm VERY okay with that. A lot of the BE will be above the tree line, while PMBSR will be under the fading canopy of the NC mountains in mid-fall.

The upsides for PMBSR (for me) are many. I'll be able to get there and back on a tank of gas. I'm pretty sure I'll be able to get some floor space nearby, or if I have to I can just sleep in the back of my car a few nights, so my outta pocket expenses after I pay for the race are way less than $100. The course has been laid out on trails I've been on countless times, so I'll know where I am at the whole time, where the aid stations are, and where I can really put the hammer down, albeit a small ball peen hammer, a hammer none the less.

I say who's house???

That's right, my house.

Todd Branham (promoter of the most important race on the international cycling calender) was recently interviewed on cyclingdirt.org, and although he didn't mention the importance of Harlan Price's penis size in endurance racing or Jeremiah Bishop's weight on the moon he did give a quick break down of what you can expect at PMBSR.



I know some folks would say that both races are expensive compared to say.... riding your bike out on the same trails by yourself or perhaps with your friends. You are correct, but both races are comparatively reasonably priced when compared with other stage races, and as opposed to just riding your bike you're RACING. I like racing, so I pay for it... unless Todd has a blogger's grant contest, in which case I would do my best to rig another election (you're welcome Obama).

And now for the real reason you keep coming back every day...

Morning weight report
133.2 lbs
8.0% BF

Obviously yesterday's weight was a scientific anomaly caused by my ill advised ride to the local XC race. Combined with my commute home I rode over two hours with some decent heat/humidity mixed in with just one water bottle consumed followed up by a beer for recovery. That's where that BF monitor comes in handy as the 132.8 and 8.9% BFI indicated that I was actually dehydrated and not defat-ated.

I am now officially 1.2lbs behind schedule, and I only have three weeks to go. Just in case you forgot my goal is to get into the 126.something range, but when I'm referring to a target weight 126 is the magic number.

Looks like this weekend will be a real make or break for me.

More webular stuff and other stuff

I ran outta time to cover all my bases yesterday. There's more going on here than I was able to mention in the time I had before heading out on my massive one hour "training" ride, so here's some more news worth mentioning.

You may not have noticed, but Faces of Dicky (that madcap anonymous entity that mocked me through the use of photoshop and wordplay) has died. There has been no activity since April 27th, so I am assuming the dream is over. It was fun while it lasted, but the thrill is gone.

I also added a new thing on my sidebar labeled Bike "News". I wanted to just stick them in the Regular Doses, but something to do with the RSS feed thing was F-ing it up, so I had to do it the way you see over there on the right.

What's in Bike "News"?

Bikerumor.com - I had this website on here for awhile. It has everything you wanted to know and everything you didn't even know you wanted to know. Now you know.

Cycling Dirt - Wanna see a video featuring Harlan Price talking about the importance of penis length in endurance racing or and interview with Jeremiah Bishop where he tells the world what he would weigh if he lived on the moon? Well they've never talked about such things, but if they did Cycling Dirt would have digitally recorded it for you so you could watch it.

Cyclingnews.com - We all know they dislike me over there, but they do have decent coverage and whatnot, so they get a link despite their vehement hatred towards me.

MountainBike.com - My Breck Epic blog stuff shows up there, so they are obviously on to something. Read, enjoy, and send them an email telling them they should be paying me for my excellent work.

MTB Race News - Stumbled on it, liked it, linked it, nuff said.

One more piece of webular news before going on to our regularly scheduled program. Remember the post when I showed my DSG mud covered ass?

I lost two followers that day. I miss you very much. Please come back. I promise I will not show my ass again on the blog this month.

And now our regularly scheduled program:

Last night I had no parental supervision with The Pie and the kids outta town. In the last hour of my work day I decided to ride home as fast as I could, feed and poop the dogs, pack my shit, and head out the door to the local summer XC race less than eight miles from my house. When I got home everything went super smooth as I packed my saddle bag with a tube, tool, CO2, I.D., and $20, so once the dogs placed their collective feces in the yard I time trialed to the race.

I got there minutes before the start, cheered on some folks, BS'ed with some non-racery types, and generally lolly gagged about. When it started getting late I made my way towards home across the urban sprawl. Less than two miles into my ride I felt a thunk-thunk-thunk from my rear wheel. I stopped, looked down, and found a nail had gone through my tire and all the way through my Stan's Arch rim. Meh.

The culprit.

I flipped the bike over and pulled out my shit. CO2, 6mm to remove my Phil Wood hub, tube, tire levers... tire levers... tire levers??? Shit. No way I was getting this 700 X 32 wire bead commuter tire off without levers. Shit.

I rode away from my unhappy place, towards my house, on my flat tire, with my nuts on the stem, hoping to beat the darkness. I passsed the Park Road Shopping Center and wheeled past Bike Source to see that I missed closing time by five minutes. A half mile later I passed Bike Sport, and I saw Ilan's (Bike Sport owner and happy all around guy) vehicle outside. I wasn't gonna knock on the door since I saw the CLOSED sign, but I circled around the parking lot a coupla times peering into the windows. Luckily Ilan passed by, saw me, asked me what was up, and allowed me to come slinking into his shop with my head hung low.

I swapped my tube for my spare. It was torn, so once again Ilan came to my rescue with a fresh tube. I rode home the rest of the way with a happy tire watching the lightning shoot between the clouds. It's good to have friends.

Morning weight report
132.8 lbs
8.6% BF

I can smell the chemicals!!!

Webular Stuff

Just a little update on the inside scoop here at Bad Idea Racing:

The last couple of days I have seen a record number of hits for a Monday and Tuesday. I'm seeing the kinda numbers that pop up early in the week after I've actually done an event, but this weekend was just an ordinary average weekend. Of course I did get to ride with two mega-celebrities, but nobody (including me) knew I was going to be riding with them in any advanced notice kinda way. I can't put my finger on the pulse of the people, so I have no idea what's going on.

It certainly has nothing to do with this guy. He recently posted the top FIFTY cycling related blogs, and I'm sorry to say this blog your reading now is not one of them. It's okay if you feel a little empty right now, so feel free to click over on the link and find a better way to spend your five minutes of screen time. He claims that he looked "at over 100 cycling blogs" and that "the rank is based on a number of elements such as Google Pagerank, Twitter Rank, Alexa Rank, number of comments and Technorati Authority". Perhaps my rank is so disgustingly low since my blog (the current one at blogspot.com) is only a little over five months old, or maybe because it actually sucks. Perhaps the ranking systems at Google, Twitter, Alexa, and Technorati are controlled by the Skull and Bones Society. Dunno.

I'll admit I clicked on some of the blogs on the list just to see what they were about. There was no sense clicking on Fatty, Snob, or the Drunk Cyclist since I know what's going on in Fatty's life, I read Snob once a week, and I go to Johnny's when I have trouble finding porn on the internet. I went to the more obscure ones (not you Guitar Ted)... the ones I've never seen before to see what I was missing. I'm not gonna name names, but I have to admit I felt slightly slighted to not be amongst the ranks of the fifty best cycling blogs IN THE WORLD considering some of the word turds that made the list. It might not be the Skull and Bones connection keeping me out, but perhaps since this guy is known as the "London Cyclist" he was upset by all the times I've linked to the George Washington video and mentioned I would like a 36" wheeled bike so I could run over British children.



Maybe the London Cyclist didn't realize I'm already listed as one of the "Best Cycling Blogs" over on a more respectable site that keeps track of such things. Maybe it's because I don't Facebook (man, you folks were a bunch of haters yesterday). Whatever, I popped a few Oxycontin this morning, so I'm over it now.

More webular musings?

Of course.

Since I have more people coming here on a daily basis the noobies have been looking at my results page. Updates had to be made to keep up with the current times. I used to have this image as the header:

I realized that I'm riding the Bad Idea Racing 2007.5-2008.5 team issue frame. Since I ride for MOOTS now and they have standards to uphold I pulled the image and replaced it with this:

Yes, this picture sucks, but I don't have a non-blurred image of me looking ultra sexy on my MOOTS in my MOOTSkit being all MOOTSey. As soon as I get one I'll be sure to dress it up with some lame text and replace it, but for now that's what you get.

One might also notice (if one clicked over to my results) that I never updated my race information since PMBAR. Some of you might point out that I have raced twice since then, and I didn't bother to include those results. Honestly I'm still trying to convince myself that what happened at DSG was some kind of twisted dream. I've had dreams before where I'm running with my bike and things don't make sense and weird stuff happens and I'm on the course forever and... yeah, I'm pretty sure it was a dream. If it wasn't a dream I'm not sure if there's a proper way to quantify what happened that weekend in terms of results. I guess I could just brag about the fact that Thad and I were not listed amongst the "killed or missing in action". The Burn 24 Hour Challenge? That was just a camping trip with friends with intermittent bouts of pain, so it's not going up there either.

One more thing before I leave you this morning...

Morning weight report
134.0 lbs
7.9% BF

There you have it. I'm back down to last Friday's weight and officially five days behind schedule. The only thing I have going for me is that The Pie is taking the children to the beach so I'll have some time for extra riding, and I can cook what I want for dinner (styrofoam peanuts in vinegar gravy).

For those of you that get excited over such things (I'm talking to you Dave Harris and Lynda Wallenfels) I now have enough data to justify a graph.

While the results (and the graph itself) are not very impressive I probably burned an extra 37 calories creating it.

Success!!!

Guess who's on Facebook??

Don't ask me. I wouldn't know. I know a shit ton of people are using it, but I have been dragging my heels when it comes to jumping on board. For what it's worth The Boy has been on it for quite some time now, and when The Pie came back from Haiti she signed on to keep up with the other volunteers she met while she was in the orphanage.

I've been asked to join a couple "groups" in order to form some kinda think tank brain trust (of an apparently low order since I was asked to come aboard). Fellow endurance bloggers have sent me the "be my friend" email to join, but I have balked at the opportunity every time. With the same reluctance I had when it came to owning a cellphone (The Pie bought me one for Christmas a few years ago) I feel like I want to limit my contact with the outside world when I can... I don't know how to explain it, but my desire to not fall further into the clutches of the interweb are strong.

On Sunday's ride the big, scary professional riders had to make sure not to step on our little Oompa Loompa friend when we were checking up.

"He's so cute and tiny and not paid to race bikes."

I am aware that it seems like everybody is on Facebook. I'll admit that I've been to the Facebook site to nose around, but without being a Facebooker you really can't look around much inside the world of Facebook. You have to sign up to look around, and I just haven't been able to commit to the idea of keeping up with yet another interweb identity outlet. The closest thing I can get to an intro to Facebook is their "help page", which I found did nothing to "help" me decide on whether I want to Facebook or not.

Dejay was trying to figure out if he could fit another snake in his pants.

All three of the people I was riding with on Sunday do the Facebook thing, and two of my three family members I returned home to also have Facebook going on (Fajita can only use the computer for games, and she's too young for Facebook). Sometimes I feel as if I'm being left behind, but then I feel like that's the way Facebook wants me to feel in order to fall victim to the Facebookiness of it all.

So, do I make the leap? Would it matter to you, the loyal reader(s) of my blog, if I was on Facebook? Am I gonna wince every time I get an email informing me that someone wants to be my "friend"? Am I gonna piss away even more time on the computer keeping up with my "page" or "wall" or my "poke' or whatever it is? Do I sign up as a celebrity or a normal human? Do you have to be more like Bono to be a celebrity or more like William Hung?



You tell me, is it REALLY worth the effort?

Bastards.

Morning weight report
135.0 lbs
8.0 BF

Shit and crap.

Such a weird weekend. Saturday had it's up and downs.

I woke up at 6:00AM.
Ate breakfast and then snuck out for 20 miles on my shitty road bike.
Tried to rid all the trees in my yard of invasive English ivy.
Helped my neighbor find her lost dog.
Laundry, mend The Pie's shirt, fix lunch.
Straighten up the bike room.
Head out to fix my Raxter rack (I broke it doing something stupid).
Talk to Big Worm to finalize Sunday ride plans.
Set phone down to continue work on rack.
Move car to the shade to make it less miserable.
Slam thumb with a hammer.
Realize I backed over the phone in the driveway when I moved the vehicle.
Slam thumb with hammer again.
Fix rack.
Walk with The Pie and smile, because even though I smashed the phone and my thumb I'm heading to the mountains the next day.

Sunday:

Big Worm and I headed out to rendezvous with Tommawicki and Dejay Birtch for a little Wilson's Creek action. Big Worm had an idea for an unprecedented ride hooking up some parts of the woods we've never linked before. After waiting for our ride partners to show up late in their true Hollywood fashion we kicked off a most excellent ride.

photo cred: Big Worm

Warming up for the big ride by doing intervals over the bridge or killing time impatiently waiting for folks who lived one hour closer to here than we do but still managed to be 45 minutes late?

I gotta chance to fart around on Dejays carbon Niner fork. Folks that gave it any thought when I put the Salsa fork on last week might have anticipated my reasoning for the swap. The two forks are very similar in geometry (Niner: 470A-C/45mm rake and Salsa: 468 A-C/43mm rake). There is a chance that the new carbon fork from Niner MIGHT be available before I leave for the Breck Epic. There is also a chance the Bolt Brothers can get one for me before I leave. There is even another chance that I would love the fork and that it could drop more than 1.5 lbs (I'd loose even more when I was forced to give up my 8" front rotor) from my ride BEFORE a very climbing heavy stage race. We'll see. The timing looks bad at the moment as Niner expects the fork right around the time I'm leaving for Breck. Shit. Too bad, as my very unscientific farting around showed that the fork had a lot of flex in the right direction and absolutely none in the wrong direction. Did I mention it weighs next to nothing? Shit.

I got to see Dejay put the fork through its paces throughout the day, and he proved to me that it was very durable at least four times as he attempted to show me how it handles "mishaps". He told me he doesn't normally wreck this much, so I assume he was just trying to show me how the fork could handle some abuse and misuse. Tommawicki on the other hand is just plain shaping up to be a NBK. I've never seen her looking so fit... she's gonna do some damage this year for sure.

So our ride plan was just a little too aggressive given the time allotted (minus the time I spent warming up on the bridge), so we missed the final loop of the day. We still ended up out in the woods for a good six hours, so not a bad day at all. For all you locals (outsiders can skip to the next paragraph) we parked down at the bridge, rode up to Sinkhole Saddle, over to Raider's Camp, took a left at the bottom, headed over to Edgemeont, did Yancy's Ridge, and then headed back (skipping Sinkhole proper).

It was one of those rides that will never be repeated... snakes, vultures, long distance friends, a trail I haven't been on in seven years, shop talk (sorry Dejay, I just wanna know everything about you), nobody got (seriously) hurt, no mechanicals (aside from multiple tire burps and a slightly wacked wheel), and a lot of laughs. I'll have a smile on my face for days...

unless...

Morning weight report
135.4 lbs
8.5% BF

Crap, my post ride feeding frenzy on top of my weaknesses on Saturday have me sitting 1.4 lbs heavier than I was two days ago. Crap... well maybe it is just crap. I guess we'll find out tomorrow.

Late Edit: Big Worm has better images up already. Look over there, or I might have to steal them for tomorrow.

Like this...

or this:

Next in line?? *pause* Not

Rain is imminent today. There's some good and bad sides to that. Sure I don't like being wet. Currently The Fastest Bike in the World (my only bike that has a worthwhile rear fender) is out at Drake Coatings (he's experimenting on it with pinstripes of an undetermined color). The radar shows a big mean blob that will keep me from doing any more miles than necessary on the way to work, and I wore my fastest drying shorts yesterday in anticipation of a rain that never came, so if I wanna wear them again today I'll have to pull them outta the dirty clothes pile all stank and nasty (I will).

So what's the good side?

Taste of Charlotte starts today. It's kinda like the NASCAR Speed Street festival, except with less stock cars to gawk at, fewer Earnhardt shirts to be purchased, and a slightly higher IQ. Basically it's just food, which means it's really beyond me that people attend this event as I thought food was readily available all over the place, and that there is no specific need to clog up downtown Charlotte to hawk it outta small white tents.

Here's what I get to ride through today:

That's not my photo. It's actually from the Taste of Charlotte website, as if seeing that you will have to wade through a crowd of people in order to stand in line to purchase tokens with your hardly earned money in order to exchange said tokens for three ribs at an exchange rate that's just slightly removed enough from the green stuff that just left your wallet so that you're not aware of the fact that those three ribs served to you on a paper plate cost you over $7.50.

"Rain... rain will make them stay away, won't it Precious. They doesn't like the rain, does they? More ribses for us then, eh Precious?"

Anyways...

Misanthropy aside, I hope to have a great weekend. I've promised myself that I would get out for 40+ miles of off road pleasure, but the rain may put a kibosh on my plans. I'm staring at my road bike right now, and it's hiding back in the corner hoping to make it outside if it could just get over it's severe agoraphobia.

Yes, this photo was taken BEFORE The Fastest Bike in the World headed over to Drake, but whatever... you get the point. That's my road bike back there singing one of Dio's greatest hits to itself, Last in Line.

Morning weight report
134.0 lbs
6.9% BF

Two pounds in one week, on track for ten in five... success!

And for your pleasure, the sadistic side of the English Government Cheese Program: