Heartbreaking

perhaps the most heartbreaking piece about parents and children since 'The Giving Tree'

In all reality, this is pretty much the story of my life so far...maybe that's why it hurts so much.

Wow, So this blog is pretty much dead....

I'm sort of surprised someone didn't take it away from me with a back handed slap. But then again, there really isn't any sort of standard of performance for the web and blogs. That's both the beauty and straight ugliness of it. huh.

So as my last post intimated, I used to race bikes. I used to train hard and all that. I went into off season of 2010 feeling pretty good about myself. Self-satisfied, even. I'd upgraded, won a couple races, placed in a few more, lost a bunch of weight and basically scared all the other cat 4's in the field with my THUNDEROUS quads. So why not think I'd continue ripping fools in 2011? Well. Whatevs. All urine in the dirty diapers...or something like that.

But I'm BACK. Well, as a shell of what I once was- but I've returned. I had a stint of training prior to the beginning of the cross season to salvage any notion of being a bike racer. Which sort of worked. I lined up and watched everyone ride away at the start every time. I beat some guys (thank god for mechanicals), got beat by a lot more. But I was out there, suffering, getting dirty, tasting blood and looking at my legs and wondering why they weren't producing the power I kept (irrationally) expecting them to. It was tough, though. I kept reminding myself to ease up on the expectations, ride for fun and friends...but I think I'm not really wired to participate in parades...I want to... I want to be that guy who can just put on a tutu and ride for the experience. But fuck that. I want to win, I want to crush my enemies and all that. What can you do? So I was invariably a little upset, a little demoralized and a bit like 'what the fuck am I doing out here?' I like cross, but I like the 'idea' of cross way more. So if I'm not getting to beat people it's mostly just taking a belt sander to my crotch for 45 minutes.

So I'm back. I'm 'training' as best I can, given the circumstances of being a parent. The miles are coming slowly, the fat seems to stick around longer. This time last year I was feeling pretty good. This year, I'm pretty far behind that schedule. But with any luck, I'll be firing by the time crit season comes around. We'll see.

In other news, I'm psyched about the team. We had our big meeting this last weekend...Lots of cool sponsors, lots of sponsor support to back it all up and a new, swanky kit that cost too much, but looks really super. Makes me want to drink beer. We'll be looking pro in our new helmets, kit, and whatnot - if only there was positive correlation between time spent thinking about results and results...

I used to race bikes...

So...my wife and I had a lovely little baby girl in March of this year..on the 7th to be exact. And my life changed, as predicted, for ever, in more ways than I can detail here, and for sure, in more ways than I really know right now. Suffice it to say that it has been amazing. The world blew up and gave me a new life, one filled with new joy and growth and intimacy and a new understanding of who I am. Earth shattering goodness.

It also took a lot away. For better and for worse. And right now, I am mourning the loss of a lot of it. There is no doubt in my mind that a lot of what I'm going through has to do with other things, like my career, the weather, my age....what's new. But on the other hand, I think I am really sad about the things that I have given up to be a father. Perhaps the most obvious of those things is the ability to prioritize myself, or more specifically, my desires...like for instance, riding and racing a bike.

It wasn't that long ago, that I felt like I was creating a community with the bike. Friends, teammates, adversaries, all part of this little world that goes along with bike racing in Portland. I was finding my place. I even got called a sandbagger! And now, it seems like a distant memory. I can feel the four extra pounds around my waist that have grown there in the absence of racing and training. I no longer feel the strength in my legs. I feel weak- more than weak in the legs, or the lungs, but weak in the heart, the soul. It all hurts a bit. And worst of all, I don't know how to get it back. There simply is not enough time to be present for my wife, my child, and myself all at the same time. Something has to give and I don't know how to do it.

This post byBikeFag article on training is brilliant, and comes exactly at the right time in my life. I've been noticing my burgeoning self-consciousness about my weight (i.e. I'm five pounds 'over-weight'), my decreasing satisfaction in just 'riding' to enjoy riding, and my inflated sense of competitiveness that makes me think of everyone else who rides a bike as an adversary. Hmmm...I'm a douchebag.

[crack beer, turn of TV or do something productive not related to cycling]

Ali

"Champions aren't made in the gyms. Champions are made from something they have deep inside them: a desire, a dream, a vision."

So it begins...again..

But not for me...My 2010 race debut is a bit off, yet...But I've been sweaty-palmed over it for weeks now...months really. It's what's been keeping me motivated in the rain, the wet, the mud and grit of the road that screens it's way into the chamois through the Lycra. It has to be something special to warrant that kind of self inflicted abuse, doesn't it? I'm not sure why it is. But I spend a lot of time thinking about, working on, and worrying about bike racing. I'll admit I'm pretty fixated on winning. Though I have no guarantees of that. I'm racing as a Cat 3 this year- I may just get my ass handed to me. I really have no idea. I know that I'm stronger now this year, at this time, than I was last year- that gives me hope. But right now, that's all it is. hope.

I build a lot of plans on hope. Maybe too many. Maybe too few. In other parts of my life I'm more cautious, more timid. I'll plan less about the future. I'll spend less energy thinking about it, less effort creating the plan and worrying about it. In part, no doubt, out of fear that those plans will fail. With cycling, with racing, I plan with abandon. I hope, and wish, and scheme success. I mark goals, benchmarks, and fantasy wins. I schedule, test, verify, modify and test again in order to put myself in position to accomplish my goals. I can't bring myself to do that with the rest of my life. I look at my life with some ennui, in that way. I see only my missed chances, missed goals, and missed opportunities. Why is that? Planning for failure? As a friend used to say in design school: 'That's not a Gantt chart, that's a CAN'T chart.'

As for dreaming- nabbed this little vid from Sprinting for Signs via a teammates blog. It's really a great marketing piece for the Cervelo mystique...and I love it.

On a lighter note...but somehow related...

Got this via 'the Whoa'...(note: not all is NSFW)


Getting back to basics

The price..

'Hello, Small Town in USA? Yeah...We're gonna rip you off and undercut your business by making it outside the U.S....yeah..sorry 'bout that...Margins, you know. Jobs? Yeeeaah... Have a good day.'