Winner, winner chicken dinner

I have to admit that I've been struggling lately to keep my head up and not get too down on myself. Anyone reading here probably knows that I've been through a pretty rough stretch lately and it has taken a lot for me to stay positive. It hasn't been getting any easier.

I love to race my bike, and I love to ride my bike. I love to cook, and I most definitely love to eat. These are the things that make me most happy. Right now, though, they've all been taken away from me. I'm stuck on the trainer every single day, trapped indoors with only thumping techno or the endless drone of World Cup fans to drone out the whir of the trainer. That's not bike riding. What more? Cooking is a struggle, as I cannot chop anything and all other kitchen tasks are made ever-more difficult as well. Finally, with less riding than I would be logging sans-injury, I simply cannot eat as much as I would like if I want to maintain my lovely figure. (As you may recall from a previous post, I am a firm believer that happiness is a direct correlation to pancake consumption. And pancake consumption is down, way down.)

Could things be worse? Yes, they most definitely could. But they could be much better too.

Now that you probably think I'm a total downer in need of a good doctor or at least a little "medicinal" relief, I'm going to flip things around on you.

Yesterday, my teammate and awesome friend Emerson Oronte soloed to the win at the Purgatory Road Race. He has been getting stronger weekend after weekend and looks like he is approaching his best form yet just in time for U23 Nationals, where I know he is going to crush it. Though I couldn't be there with him, that win means more to me than I begin to verbalize. It inspires me to work harder than I did before. It presents me with a tangible goal to work toward, namely making myself the best and most determined rider I can so that, when I'm back, I can support my friend better then I could before. Whereas before I was upset as I felt that I was being left behind by those around me who are meeting their goals and achieving success, now I'm just more determined than ever. Whereas before all I had was anger to drive me, now I have inspiration. That's a dangerous combination. So look out, because I'll be back before you know. And now I'm pissed, but with a purpose.

Crash bang boom

So just when I thought I'd hit rock bottom already and was due for some good fortunes, it all came crashing down again...quite literally.

By now, I'm sure that many of you already know about how the P1/2 road race at Connecticut was cut short, so I'll skip the details. That and I am currently typing challenged, and just these two paragraphs have taken me an unduly long amount of time to hammer out. So I'll just skip to my own injury report, following my visit to the orthopedist yesterday.
I'm recovering from my crash and I feel well, but it turns out the damage was worse than I thought. My knee is alright and I should have the green light to ride the trainer by this weekend and will get the stitches out some time next week. My hand, though, is going to keep me out of commission for a bit longer.

My pinky is essentially broken in half, so the fear is that the two plates of bone could slide or rotate out of place, requiring surgery. Also, I badly sprained the ligaments in my thumb, which could degrade into a tear. So I left the orthopedist yesterday in a full hand cast that goes halfway to my elbow. I will need it for 4 weeks and will find out next week whether or not I need surgery.

So that's the report. I'm hoping to start riding the trainer soon and plan to get in the gym as soon as the stitches come out. Maybe I finally won't be so freaking skinny any more. Could be good for me. Who knows.

I'm definitely hopeful to be back in action by Fitchburg, but I wouldn't count on it. This won't be season-ending, but it's going to force a major shift in goals unfortunately. Time to find some perspective. I'll let you know when I do.

On the mend

After some time off from any focused training thanks to my unfortunate affinity for making friends with the front of automobiles, I was finally able to get back to business this past weekend. I made it through a tough week of finals, rode as much as I could, and finally made it to Friday, when I was able to load up the car and head home. What a relief.

So Sunday was the Bear Mountain Spring Classic. Earlier in the year, I had marked the race as an early season goal, but after the recent turn of events I erased all expectations for the race and went into it more with an eye to just enjoy myself and find out where my fitness is right now. The result was no surprise. I cracked sooner than I would have liked and then found myself in a chase group a good way off the back. Fortunately, I had some good company to ride out the race with. Unfortunately, my front wheel, brand new tire and all, decided it did not like having air in it that day. After riding about 2/3 of lap 3 on my now flat tire, I decided to pull out rather than attempt the 50+mph decent. I like my life and very much like to continue living it. The alternative seemed counterproductive to that. And with no neutral wheels to be had at the start/finish, that was the end of my day.

But it's not all bad. I had a great weekend with the team staying at my house, cleaning out all of my pancake mix and putting a serious dent in the ice cream. And the race itself was not all negative either. My legs were not nearly as bad as they could have been, and I think I'm not too far off from returning to from and hopefully putting up some descent results in the near future.

Next up is Sunapee and a little team mini-camp. Maybe I can forge a little form for the up-coming stage races. Who knows.

Alice In Wonderland

Sitting here, beer in hand with nothing on my mind at all, I couldn't be happier. In the words of Alice Cooper, "School's out for summer! School's out for ever! School's been blown to piecessss!"
And damn does it feel good!

I'm not going to go into the details, but it has been a rough week or so for me. Easily the most difficult I have ever gone through. After two major incidents in the course of four days, I was pretty shaken up. I had to cancel my trip to Nationals after the first, and the second sent me into a bit of an existential crisis for a day or so. But a visit from dad, the help from my friends, and a fridge full of beer put me back in a good place. I made it through finals now, am feeling normal again, and am just enjoying life and enjoying my bike. I feel I've learned that I really just need to let go and enjoy the ride, and that if I'm having fun and doing what I love, things will usually just fall into place.

So with all that behind me, I now have summer to look forward to, starting...NOW. I'm headed home tomorrow and the team is then coming down to crash at my place for a fun day of racing at Beat Mt. Hopefully we can pull out a big result to kick of the summer season. My plan is just to have fun and see where I go. No expectations at the moment. Well, except maybe a few more of these...

Not what I had in mind

It's been a rough few weeks.

Starting with the second to last ECCC weekend of the year at Army, I realized that I wasn't riding quite the way I wanted to. Something just wasn't right, and despite being confident in my training and having plenty of energy, something was simply lacking. The sort of power I had come to expect (and need) just was not there. So I took a step back, listened to the people around me and to my own body, and figured out what was going on. The following weekend at Dartmouth, things started to improve.

I wasn't where I would like to be, but you can't expect a complete turnaround in just one week's time. But I could tell that I was on an upward trend, heading the direction I wanted.

Then I got the news that I could head to collegiate nationals in Madison, Wisconsin, which was just a huge morale booster. Despite the major load of finals I have facing me as the semester draws to a close, I could not pass up an opportunity like that. So I booked my flight and hotel and was all set to go. Then today happened.

Less than an hour into my ride today, I found out that car's are hard objects that do not want to be friends with you. Fortunately, the driver was not one of those from all the horror stories we all know, and he helped me get off the road once I was done groaning on the pavement and called the police right away. I was shuttled off to the hospital in an ambulance, where they took care of me quickly and had me on my way in a little over an hour. I feel so lucky to have no serious injuries, just a few cuts and some deep bruising and contusions on my right shin and knee, which took nearly all of the impact. I don't think my bike was so lucky, though. It looks like she is going to be out of commission until this is all cleared up.

As for Nationals, I'm leaving that up in the air. Today is Sunday, and Nationals doesn't kick off until Friday. My flight is scheduled for Wednesday morning, so that leaves me two days to rest and assess my condition. At the moment, I am still determined to go, but I won't make any final decisions just yet. Things could be worse in the morning, so we'll have to see. Not quite the preparation I was hoping for, but I guess all you say is this: Shit happens.

Peanut butter jelly time, peanut butter jelly time

I think you all know the song...

http://www.tuftsdaily.com/the-wheel-and-chain-on-race-day-it-s-peanut-butter-jelly-time-1.2246351

"You probably wouldn’t try to run your Formula 1 car on low−grade, regular−octane fuel, and I haven’t seen any Lamborghini owners lately filling up their ego−soothers with any form of eco−friendly fuel. That’s just not the way things are done, and it’s not the way their engines run. These are high performance vehicles with high performance needs. So you would think that athletes work the same way, right?

Well, not exactly. Sure, we scarf down heaping plates of pasta and stuff our faces with oh−so−delicious energy gels (though vanilla and coffee aren’t all that bad, I swear), but there’s more to it than that. I’m not saying that you can be an elite−level cyclist, or any type of athlete for that matter, and eat nothing but pizza and KFC, though you can certainly better afford the occasional Crave Case than the average American. But at the same time, you aren’t going to get there on nothing but brown rice and tofu either.

Let’s take this past Sunday as our test case. The race: L’Enfer du Nord. In layman’s terms: The Eastern Collegiate Cycling Conference (ECCC) Championships, hosted by Dartmouth College. The Men’s A race was 75 miles long, featured a pretty substantial amount of climbing and took somewhere on the order of three and a half hours. Oh, and we raced pretty hard. I should probably mention that. And as you may know from your experiences cruising along the highway well in excess of the legal speed limit, the faster you go, the more fuel you burn. The same applies.

So in order to survive a race like this, one thing is needed above all: calories, calories, calories. And yes, a calorie is a calorie, no matter where it comes from, but when you are trying to fill yourself with upward of 4,000, or even 5,000, of them, things get a little tricky. That plate of pasta isn’t going to cut it anymore, at least not on its own. That’s not to say that you don’t eat it, because pasta is definitely a source of high−quality carbs and is probably still going to be one of your best sources of fuel, but it’s only going to get you so far. This is where my peanut butter and jelly metaphor comes in.

The peanut butter and jelly sandwich serves both as one of the best ways to get that much−needed fuel, while at the same time symbolizing the balance that you need to strike in order to get in enough food without risking losing or gaining weight, both of which will hurt your performance.

The classic PB&J features the ideal ratio of foods for a cyclist: lots of carbs from the bread, some healthy fat and a little protein from the peanut butter, and some quick and tasty energy from the sugary jelly. It’s all there in a nice, neat package. You can wrap it up and put it in your jersey pocket, and it makes the perfect pre− or post−race snack. Personally, I never leave for any race weekend without my trusty Tupperware container filled with four premade and wrapped PB&J’s. And I would bring more too if they would fit.

But there is more to the PB&J than the sandwich itself. There is a lesson. Like I said, healthy carbs and healthy proteins are all great. We need lots, and I mean lots, of them in order to train, recover and race. But there is a time and a place for everything, and that means those “unhealthy” foods fit in somewhere too. If you’re going to get in enough calories, you’re going to have to get it from denser sources. This is where the fun begins.

Peanut butter, of course, is high on the list of approved foods. But right up there with it, and probably higher on most cyclists’ lists — including mine — is Nutella. This fatty, rich, chocolaty spread is pure energy in a jar, and it is calorie−dense and delicious. Did I mention that it’s chocolate?

It’s foods like these that help fill the caloric gaps in your diet that you just can’t account for with healthy foods alone. It takes cookies, French toast, hamburgers, ice cream, eggs, Snickers bars — you name it — to fill us up. Especially when you’re on the lighter side and your stomach probably isn’t big enough to handle large volumes of food, the trick is to choose foods that pack a lot of punch in a smaller package. (Does anyone have some Oreos for me?)

Now, I’m not saying that by riding a bike you get free license to stuff your face with whatever you want whenever you want. Fueling right is absolutely essential to performing well, and knowing when to eat that donut and when to opt for grilled chicken and a big salad is equally as important as any other aspect of your training. But it is a fine line between being a healthy, conscientious eater and being a little too neurotic. Eat too little, and you will suffer, possibly even more than if you eat too much. The key is balance. And that is why I always look to the PB&J.

Now that the ECCC racing season has come to an end, there is one collegiate race left for me before I transition to the rest of my season with my trade team: collegiate nationals. The race is a week from Friday in Madison, Wisc. In the span of 72 miles, the course ascends 8,000 vertical feet, which is simply a whole lot of climbing by any standard. For comparison, Mt. Everest ascends between 11,980 and 15,260 feet when measured from base to summit, depending on which face you start from.

Naturally, I like that. I like to climb, and this race does almost nothing but that. I’m not going to make any promises or predictions, but there is one thing I can guarantee: I’ll be bringing my PB&J."

Army, Crashing, and Shaving

http://www.tuftsdaily.com/the-wheel-and-chain-road-rash-and-razor-raves-1.2236658

"Sliding across the pavement and off the side of the road as the pack speeds off down the road, all I could think was, “Well, that was dumb.”

If there is one question that I spend more time answering than any other, it has to be the one about why I, and all cyclists, shave my legs.

“Does it make you go faster?” everyone asks. “Is it like swimming?”

No, not really. If you take just a second to consider the physics of it, you will realize no amount of body hair fluttering in the wind could possibly create enough drag to pose a serious detriment to your performance and slow you down. I don’t care if you are as hairy as Austin Powers with a fleecy coat wrapping your body as if the next Ice Age is coming. When you’re battling the wind, it’s just not that important.

But when the pavement is your foe, now that is another story. Imagine the feeling of shedding a few layers of skin as you roll, slide and tumble across rough pavement somewhere in the vicinity of 25 to 30 miles per hour. I’ll give you a hint: It doesn’t tickle. Now add to that the bonus of all that hair you neglected to shave being ripped from its deeply rooted follicles and you have the makings of a truly memorable experience. And hence, I present to you, the razor. (Shaving cream and moisturizer are nice too, but that is another article in and of itself.)

The benefits of the shaved leg go beyond just pain reduction, though. It also greatly aids the clean-up process, as bloodied and dirt-caked hair is not getting in the way as you delicately try to extricate the bits of road from your body. You just had a rough date with some hard asphalt, and life is bad enough at the moment as it is. There is just no need to make things any harder on yourself.

Of course, there is also the vanity aspect of it. Shaving your legs says “I am a bike racer” like nothing else can, save maybe severe and permanent tan lines that make you appear like a human Oreo: brown on the outside, white in the middle. It confers membership to an exclusive club and, depending on who you ask, looks kind of cool. Body builders do it, right? Why not skinny guys in spandex?

Finally, and this is only my personal theory, having shaved legs makes massages that much better. As you work your way up the ranks in the sport, the number of massages you get increases. When you are on a bigger team with a bigger budget, you can afford niceties like masseurs and physical therapists who will gladly and expertly knead your every sinew and muscle fiber, working out those pesky knots that accompany miles of training and travel. With no silly hair to get in the way, their lives are so much easier and undoubtedly so much more pleasant, as I can only imagine the grossness of massage oil mixed with body hair (think Alec Baldwin).

Unfortunately, I am not a pro, and my massages have been few and far between (though definitely pleasant). Therefore, my reasons for shaving, at least for the time being, are largely the first two. This past weekend, though, I was thinking more about the first.

Riding along in the peloton at the ECCC Army race weekend on Sunday, I turned to a friend of mine and said, “If I try to do anything, I give you permission to just smack me.”

We had raced a time trial earlier in the morning and then, in pursuit of some quality training, myself, the aforementioned friend and one other went off for a two-hour ride on the hilly roads around the United States Military Academy. Needless to say, I was a little on the tired side, and sitting in for most of the race would have been prudent. But, despite all this, the ringing of the bell for a preme got me excited, and before I knew it I was attacking into turn one. The next thing I knew, I was sliding along on my left side, headed straight for the guard rail along the side of the road. Fortunately, I was wearing gloves and long sleeves, so that saved some skin. And, of course, my legs were cleanly shaved.

To be honest, the whole situation was quite funny. As I came to a stop, lodged under the guardrail and needing the assistance of the race marshals to get back on my feet and run to the pits to get my free lap and hop back in the race, all I could think was that I had actually just smacked myself. As soon I was back in the race, I found that same friend and told him just that, assuring him that his services would not be needed. At the very least, we got a few laughs out of it.

It’s not so funny now, and I would definitely like to extend my thanks to the ladies at Tufts Health Service for the generous box of bandages. But even more so, I feel I need to thank the people over at the Gillette company for their Mach3 Turbo razor. Its finely honed blades and delicate padding make shaving an enjoyable experience every time. Were it not for them, I might not have had such cleanly shaved appendages, and my discomfort now would probably be all the worse for it.

Hopefully for next week’s installment, I’ll be able to keep it upright."