Bad – U2

Since RR3, I’ve been riding the roadie every chance I’ve had, in preparation for Tour de Scottsdale. I got talked into that by Dirtrodr and Dgangi – Chris cause he was setting up a goal to get us through summer and our roadie spell, and Doug cause he said it was a great fast course with fun perks.

Roadieing all the time sucks.

boring, dull, lonely, monotonous, exhausting, fatigueing, taxing and at times soul-draining – grinding uphill upwind for 10 miles by yourself just sucks. I’m not getting sponsored to win the Tour De France, I just want to have fun!

But I don’t want to suck. Sucking sucks. So my last 3 weeks have been about 3 trips to the Lake, about 5 trips around Usery, boring hammerspins around Las Conchas, and sitting my ass on a stationary bike. While this sounds like a lot, training for a race in this manner is horrible. No base, no sprinting, nothing in a group – the only redeeming aspects of my training have been that I’ve gone hard and that everything has been climbing. The first training ride was a hammerfest to the lake, B-line and up Usery. I did 2:27 which was not bad, but my legs hurt immediately. Next 2 days were Usery, then 2 days in RP. My legs hurt non-stop, and it seemed like every ride was slower than the last. I tried not to get too focused on the times, knowing that my training plan was about as stupid as it could be, but there is no way to turn slower times each day and not get depresssed. Roadieing all the time sucks. I had cleaned the bottom bracket, and in the back of my mind I was convinced this was causing my slow times. This was of course ridiculous cause I’ve done this several times and it’s a no-brainer job. Roadieing all the time sucks.

The cleaning happened right after RR3, part of a 4 hour cleaning fest on all my rides. I cleaned, tuned and bb’d the Heckler, and just generally hugged and touched it after yet another massive weekend of fun. I totally cleaned, tuned, and bb’d the roadie, hugged and touched it in expectation of the next few weeks together. and I cleaned the Blur, tweaked the pedals, and installed a new seat. But I did not hug or touch it, it needs work, and is in a transitional phase.. It should not take this personally, its time will come, and it has been boss kitty for 4 years running. It needs to accept this rotation to the rear with grace. Beckie said recently that it looked sad that it was no longer stored in the stand. If only it knew how much money I was preparing to put into it, and how slim and tight it would soon be. The seat upgrade was step 1. as I learned, this is a great way to drop an easy quarter pound for just a few bucks more. the Blur’s seat was beat to shit. It was torn on every surface, and had lost a gob of foam so a nail was poking me in the ass. The new seat felt good, but there are so many tweaks to getting the seat right…5 rides later I still don’t know if its quite right, but it does feel good now on my taint.

Meanwhile, every other moment for 3 weeks was on the roadie. Its weird dialing into the road bike so hard after riding so much tech-n-bump the month before. You think you are good and can throw your bike around, then suddenly you need to scratch it uphill and forward without backing off for a second. Your whole stroke, and your smooth stroke, and your steady stroke all combine to make your power stroke laughable. Pointing down a chute is irrelevant to screaming through a corner at over 20 mph. I felt like I was just beating my head against a wall – every chance I could ride, slower times, alone, and no rhythm cause we were in Rocky Point and Chicago over the weekends.

I was burned, so very burned. About when I was ready to just get pissed off and eat cheese and Doritos, I got plugged into a big underground race\scavenger hunt\epic ride in Prescott for first week in November. It sounded fun, and I was leaning more and more away from El Tour de Tucson in favor of a cheaper and more-riding-less-bullshit alternative. So I posted up on mtbr that I was a strong but unspectacular rider, liked to have fun, didn’t care about winning, and my times for the Whiskeys the last 2 years. A few guys who I know only from their posts…some downhill guys primarily I think, who I’m sure are fine strong all around riders, but I really don’t know them other than from their posts…picked me up to be a 4^th on their 4-man team. Cool! Meet some new guys, one a Prescott local who will know the trails, have a big huge day! Anyway, they invited me to hook up with them on some local Phx rides, and I was pretty sure itd be a great idea to know each other a little better before a 10 hr day of riding. So the Thursday before Tour de Scottsdale, I was hooking up with these guys on National.

I usually avoid National before big races cause who wants the bruises before 3 hours without a break in the saddle. but I was not afraid. This goes back to the Blur, and owes it to the Blur, but was made gospel by the Heckler. I’ve hit the Waterfall 4 times now on the Heckler, and I am not afraid. I am humble, but I am not afraid.

Up Mormon, and I got the hill for the 2^nd time out of 3 on the Heckler, after maybe 3 times out of 50 on the Blur. Good times. I held my own climbing, and was not so far off on the downs. Those guys showed me some cool new lines down some freeride stuff, and I had a smile on my face the whole next day because of it.

Last ride before the race I was still giddy from the freeriding, and happy that finally I did not have to hammer, and my last ride round the Lake and Usery was 2:23 for a full 4 minute drop, and could just ride and enjoy the hills and Red Mountain in the afternoon. Turning left onto Power Road after the descent from Usery Pass, the setting sun low in my eyes and a headwind in my face, exhilarated and faded, “Bad” came onto the player.   “Let it go.   And so fade away. I’m wide awake.”   I couldn’t have planned it any better.

Beckie, G and I headed out to the Pima\Dynamite area for the packet pickup. It was held in shwanky Market Street in DC Ranch. Truly this was one of the best-run events I have participated in. Packet pickup was accompanied by wine and hors’d’vors, everything was smooth and easy and organized, the materials all made sense and were well-documented, even the pre-ride meeting was done well. It was held over a PA, so you could continue having your social time but still pay attention and get your info. The outdoor patio was great for letting G run around in a good environment, and we met my friend Doug who’s 4 yr old girl and Beckie and G had a good time together. All very civilized.

Saturday I took care of myself, a yoga class and easy workout, no drinking, lots of pasta, lots of hydration. Early to bed. Going back to ultimate, I have always figured if you’re doing something, and have trained for, don’t be a loser…give your body the best shot you can.

Arrived at 6 on Sunday and felt good. The organization continued to be excellent, I saw some friends and also a few old Frisbee buds. As small and shameful as it sounds, I really wanted to have a better day than my fris friends. Biking is not as in-your-face hierarchical as Ultimate, but in disc its impossible to think of a guy without thinking about how you match up on him since its all about matchups. Part of the reason its always made me more agro than riding, and why I am so much more at ease with the biking scene. But disc was taken from me, or maybe I gave it away…whatever…I WAS good and will always think of myself as good, and its hard to handle these interpersonal encounters sometimes with guys who have surpassed me…really, its all me. I’m a small petty man. but i did kick their asses.
Back to the line up, and it was time to roll. I was about 10 yards from the front, and jumped at the gun so the surge didn’t get me. But the controlled start was awkward for the pack, and the first few miles were sprint\brake\sprint\brake and very stressful.

Doug had given me some good ideas for strategy for the race, and my first goal was to make it past the surge down Thompson Peak and the initial sorting out. I almost got dropped somehow a few miles into Scottsdale road, I guess I got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, so an early test of my fortitude but I sprinted and caught the pack. Props to me for recognizing and committing.

Down Scottsdale, up Cave Creek and I was ready for the climb. No problems as we turned back south down Pima, and when we hit the climb up Dynamite I was ready and felt good. I guess we were around 25 miles in, but I had no chance to check the computer. The pack was big and lots of jockeying, or perhaps I am just a nervous squirrrely fuck and was truly the source of so many problems. whatever. it was a stressful place toe be.

After topping out on Dynamite, we dove down 9 mile hill. I was hitting my brakes way more than I though I should…I just expected the pack to take off. I couldn’t quite see the front and thought maybe the lead SAG car was holding us back. But I think the power of the pack just made it so easy to draft – when I pulled out of the pack I simply could not get over 35 into the wind, but in the pack i was brake tapping constantly. On we went through Fountain Hills, rolling up on 50 miles, and I was still with the lead group.

The pack broke up quickly going up the ~2 mile hill on Shea. I expected this would happen, and expected to get dropped, so I just settled into an aggressive climbing pace but one I felt I could sustain. I passed some people, and finally for the first time in 2 hrs turn around and looked over my shoulder. There were scattered riders behind, and scattered in front. For the next 5 miles, it was a sorting-out where I tried to jump into the fastest line I could, but had no idea what everyone else was doing. The line didn’t exactly work together – our rotation was more like a time trial which was plenty fast but didn’t seem very helpful. I just tried to hang on to whomever I could, and before too long we were down to 3. I was faster than the other 2 on the climbs, and almost dropped them on the last rolly section. But I figured it would be better for me to pull them and get breaks than to leave them. We scooped up about 5 other riders, and our little group seemed fresher than these stragglers whom I recognized from the lead pack. Onward we pushed, til finally I saw the finish line about a quarter mile ahead. I was pulling, and knew the other 2 would jump me, and sure enough they did. Whatever. The strategy worked for me and my time, and I would have done the same to them. In the end I did 2:54 and took 42nd overall out of over 500 dudes.

now back on the dirt!