Well, we survived the lung-searing affair that is the Iowa City Crit this weekend. My little family of two had about seventy schedule changes throughout the previous week that made it all seem like it might be a stretch to even get there in tact, but with a little help from some aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents, we conquered and successfully made it three places at once. Or something like that.
Tyler is now proudly 1-0 in Padres Little League Play, and if I ever locate my new and now lost Flip, I will begin to post interviews with the little fart after each game. This Little League stuff is SERIOUS business, and there is nothing better than seeing my little man completely jacked about his team.
I can now also say that I have lived to tell about my first time trial (Elkhart), and today I will recount my first road race, and first crit.
My overall goal for the road race was to not get spit off the back and left to battle the wind and rain by my lonesome. Well, seconds before the thing started and I'd run back and forth to the restroom eighty times, I looked over to Maria and declared that perhaps my initial goal was a bit too lofty; that my NEW goal was to not shit my pants.
I think she shit hers laughing.
Mission accomplished; although I did find myself just completely out of gas in a way that I have never been out of gas on the bike, well, ever. I hung on with the fastest portion of this group for the first 22 miles or so. I was also able to do a few successful chases, hold a woman back from attacking Maria a few times, and then sat back and happily watched Maria kick some serious ass and come out second. I wound up eighth.
Not bad and yet not good. Room for improvement. Plenty of it.
And then there was the time trial. Given my Iowa City dwelling brother's account of this event which was:
"Holy shit, you're doing that?! We used to sit at the bottom of the hill drinking beer and watching all the crashes!"
My goal: don't crash.
And again, I am happy to report mission accomplished. This was no small feat given that the second they whistled the start, the rains came pelting down. The roads were slick and brick and yet, I did not crash. And after about the third climb I really settled into a good rhythm and several laps later I was actually somewhat floored when they whistled the bell lap...I wanted to keep going. I was beat on the final sprint by the woman who won the road race the day before, although I had beat her up the climb on three subsequent laps. Never a good way to finish, but a great way to learn a thing or twelve.
Cest la vie....I have room for improvement and much to learn. I came out a respectable fourth and won some beer money to boot (a shiny new fi'tty CENT piece...and yes, you had to be there).
Oh. And by the way, this racing thing...it's FUN....and aside from the thinking you're going to puke/shit yourself PRIOR to the race, and the thinking you might die DURING the race parts...it's REAL fun.
There will be a subsequent post about all this later; in addition to a few of the laughs, the jokes, and the mayhem that follows these races.
Until then, to steal a line from one of my teammates:
I really love my team.
pics here.
Tyler is now proudly 1-0 in Padres Little League Play, and if I ever locate my new and now lost Flip, I will begin to post interviews with the little fart after each game. This Little League stuff is SERIOUS business, and there is nothing better than seeing my little man completely jacked about his team.
I can now also say that I have lived to tell about my first time trial (Elkhart), and today I will recount my first road race, and first crit.
My overall goal for the road race was to not get spit off the back and left to battle the wind and rain by my lonesome. Well, seconds before the thing started and I'd run back and forth to the restroom eighty times, I looked over to Maria and declared that perhaps my initial goal was a bit too lofty; that my NEW goal was to not shit my pants.
I think she shit hers laughing.
Mission accomplished; although I did find myself just completely out of gas in a way that I have never been out of gas on the bike, well, ever. I hung on with the fastest portion of this group for the first 22 miles or so. I was also able to do a few successful chases, hold a woman back from attacking Maria a few times, and then sat back and happily watched Maria kick some serious ass and come out second. I wound up eighth.
Not bad and yet not good. Room for improvement. Plenty of it.
And then there was the time trial. Given my Iowa City dwelling brother's account of this event which was:
"Holy shit, you're doing that?! We used to sit at the bottom of the hill drinking beer and watching all the crashes!"
My goal: don't crash.
And again, I am happy to report mission accomplished. This was no small feat given that the second they whistled the start, the rains came pelting down. The roads were slick and brick and yet, I did not crash. And after about the third climb I really settled into a good rhythm and several laps later I was actually somewhat floored when they whistled the bell lap...I wanted to keep going. I was beat on the final sprint by the woman who won the road race the day before, although I had beat her up the climb on three subsequent laps. Never a good way to finish, but a great way to learn a thing or twelve.
Cest la vie....I have room for improvement and much to learn. I came out a respectable fourth and won some beer money to boot (a shiny new fi'tty CENT piece...and yes, you had to be there).
Oh. And by the way, this racing thing...it's FUN....and aside from the thinking you're going to puke/shit yourself PRIOR to the race, and the thinking you might die DURING the race parts...it's REAL fun.
There will be a subsequent post about all this later; in addition to a few of the laughs, the jokes, and the mayhem that follows these races.
Until then, to steal a line from one of my teammates:
I really love my team.
pics here.
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