It was the second rest day of the Tour and I was on my way home from work when I passed him going up fifth street. We had started the morning together, but I had to get to work after the second lap. I was proud of myself, 30lbs of messenger bag on my back and I just climbed on past, asking how far along he was. He grunted “nine” and I offered up some lame encouragement like “you can do it” or “just keep pedaling” or something. He mumbled about wanting a cigarette. My mind was already back at SMC though- could I make it to the shop in time for the last lap? I crested the hill and sped down, hoping I would catch the rest of the crew that had dropped him quite some time back.

I rolled into SMC where Beth took one look at me and without even asking, she told me I missed them. Crap. Oh well, I went inside, peeled off my sweat-heavy clothes and changed into something more casual. I felt a little awkward sitting there not knowing what to say to anyone. I fumbled around looking for something to eat or drink when Bowman said he was going to pace Army Jay for his tenth lap. That sounded good to me for some reason, so I went back in to put my now cold and sweaty cycling clothes back on. I chatted a bit with A-ron…the kid had just come back from racing MTB nationals and was now doing 2-5-10??!?! Wow..his legs definitely have more in them than mine, but then again no one ever questioned that. Now then, where was Army Jay?

5 minutes. 10 minutes. Ok, about 25 minutes passed and most of the other folks were off for some poolside beer, but Bowman and I were steadfast- he was just about to finish nine but he needed ten. Finally he rolled in. Jay is one of those people that is both hard to miss and hard to forget. His bike is a Surly Long-Haul Trucker built with whatever parts he could afford and cobble together at the time, complete with a rear rack (which often sports an ammo box) red bar tape, and flat pedals. He needs flat pedals because he rides in army boots. And MTB shorts. And a faded blue-and-orange SMC jersey that carries the aroma of many, many miles. His dirty blonde hair is pulled into a tangled pony-tail, and his spotty facial hair frames his upper lip and jaw like the grass of an abandoned city lot after they have bulldozed a condemned building. Bowman begins his pep-talk to get Jay back on his bike and Jay lights a cigarette and sits on the apartment steps between Armettas and SMC. Bowman runs back into the shop and emerges with a Coke and some gels to sugar Jay up, and once he finishes his cigarette Jay agrees to ride the final lap of the 2-5-10 century.

We roll up second street- Bowman starts to pour ice water on Jay immediately to which Jay asks him to knock it off.  Pedaling up the road, we give him encouragement but are more just acting like rolling traffic cones so Jay can just focus on his own pedaling and not on traffic. Im behind him and even though you can smell the effort he has put in for the day at ten yards it doesn’t matter- he is doing something only 19 other people have done to date. You see, 2-5-10 is 102 miles with almost 15000 feet of climbing. And its his first century, ever. Cresting over the top, Bowman says ‘1/3 done!’ and we begin the descent. Jay descends carefully, and with caution- a good move considering the amount of fatigue he must have been experiencing. Hanging a right towards fifth st, Bowman again cools Jay off. This time he seems more ready for it. We pass the sprinkler set up for the riders and then begin the ascent to the main part of fifth street mountain. Jay picks up some strength from somewhere and the pace actually increases. I follow behind, watching his combat boots go up and down with each pedal stroke, and his rear rack swaying slightly from left to right all of which result in forward motion that only a rider can fully appreciate.

We make the turn onto the fifth street itself, and in the steep hairpin Jay lets out a howl, stands on his pedals and uses every gear-inch his cranks and cogs can give him. The sun is starting to set now and the crest of the hill glows with golden hour. Some sweat drips off Jay and Bowman cools him off again. We descend into town avoiding the potholes marked with white paint and make the final approach on the hardest climb of the day- tenth street.

On the first lap of the day, tenth street was decorated with chalk, much like riders in the tour see on the greatest climbs in cycling. Cheers, encouragements, jaunts, and jokes are splayed across the tree-covered blacktop section that approaches 22%. Jay puts a foot down, breathes a little and comments about wanting another cigarette. Bowman reminds us that there is a bench at the next turn if he needs it. We check the bench out and then pedal on. Mother Mary welcomes us with open arms. A dog barks happily, as if encouraging Jay- and Jay actually thanks him for it as if he understood every yap. One more foot-down rest, and we finish the last push to the top. There are no cheering fans. There is no big cheque. There is simply a pat on the back for Jay, and the promise of some food at the Strickland’s new pool. So with a smile on his face we roll down, grab a slice and a beer, congratulate Jay along with the other finishers of the day and quietly ride back to SMC.

I dont know if I could finish the 2-5-10 century. I didn’t know Jay had that in him. Apparently he knew he did- and it was both humbling and an honor to be there with him on his final lap.  Nice job Army Jay- combat boots and all.

Marysville. Swimming. Running. Time trails. Commuting. Fatigue. Joy. Surprises. Hidden strength. Realizations.

Its been a long week, and with a new weekend rapidly approaching my mind begins to wander. It wanders in retrospect of the Marysville stage races, with excitement for the Steelman triathlon, and with the satisfaction of a week that I can honestly say blew my body apart in the best possible way.

For those of you who missed it, Marysville is the premiere stage racing weekend on the MASS schedule that includes three days of racing in five different formats. The weekend started off with a dreary drizzle and fog, perfectly slimy conditions for a night time trial. A 3.7 mile course was laid out around the Oesterling farm and at 9:15 the race began with Kuhn taking the opening run. Every 30 seconds another rider saddled up, lit up, and rode into the foggy night. Lights reflected back to your eyes in the misty-mess, tires squirmed around for traction, and in the humid night air people rode the ‘race of truth’  through a tunnel of wet darkness that led both through the forest as well as through themselves. I loved every second of it. Saturday morning clouds opened the racing for the beginners and endurance riders, but were soon burned off for sport and expert. Heat was high, humidity was higher, and the race became one as much about survival as it was about speed. My first lap was fantastic with a low time and a strong feel. My custom tires threw the mud off perfectly and when leaned far into a corner clawed at the tacky earth to find a wonderful amount of grip. And they made fun of me for cutting knobs. Amateurs. My second lap started just as strong, but about 2 miles from the finish I cramped. Hard. Both sets of quads and both hamstrings decided I hadn’t had enough to drink and outright stopped me from riding for about 10 minutes. Ouch. Again I am reminded that my body doesn’t perform well in heat. Oh well- I refused to take another DNF so I soft-pedaled the rest of the race and didn’t come in DFL. Sunday started early with the hill climb so knowing this wasn’t a strong event for me my goal was to just get some finish points and save myself for the short-track. Im glad I did because by the time the STXC came around I was fired up and ready.

My legs ached on the fast start. Mike Melnick yelled for me to pace myself. I hung onto the lead group. We made our way down the soft grassy area and into the only real climb of the course which was just long enough to sling me off the back of the lead group. No worries, dig in, corner well, and make power in the flats. Each lap the leaders got a little farther in front of me but it didn’t matter- we had 20 minutes to suffer and I was going to pour everything I had left into the pedals no matter where I ended up. I learned more and more about the course and how deep I could corner, where I could accelerate, and what was going to make me suffer a little more. I kept losing time on that climb, but was enjoying the corners more and more each lap. On the last lap, the leaders came around- Matt needed some passing room going into the big downhill sweeper turn right in the main spectator area and I knew we could go two wide in it. I told him to take the inside line (the grippiest part) so if I slid I wouldn’t take him out. We hit the corner at full speed and I went to the outside- my front wheel washed out a little so I pushed the bike over kicked the ground hard and kept pedaling. It was sweet!  I chased them as long as I could but they pulled on me again on the hill. I finally got my opportunity to pull on someone else in the last corner where I knew my tires would stick and he was unsure, so I sprinted for the line and took it. It was a great end to a great weekend.

After coming home and unpacking, it was time to settle into the training rhythm again since the Steelman is only 5 weeks away. With the confidence of two open water swims under my belt and a rest day on Monday I took to the pool on Tuesday over lunch. I was able to swim the entire 800 yards in one go- plus some. I totaled 1100 yards in a single session and then followed that session with a 26 mile bike ride that included about 13 miles of TT/LT effort. Surprisingly my legs still felt like they had power in them and I was able to maintain 22mph average over rolling terrain. Wednesday was a four mile run, and then Thursday was my day to bike commute for the week. I took the long way, but by then my legs were screaming ‘uncle’ and my body longed for some real rest. So here we are- into Friday, resting today and tomorrow….but still contemplating a century on Sunday.

Something that a week like this does for me is makes me realize how lucky I am to be doing this, as well as realize that my strengths seem to lie in different areas from where I have been focusing. That said, it looks like next year will be pretty different from this year yet again with endurance races early, then transitioning into short events in the fall….we will see how it goes, but Im sure it will bring a smile to my face.

Ride fast, take chances,

/Dan

Like proud mary, I rolled some big wheels today. Steve at Saucon Valley Bikes was kind enough to let me take a demo today on a Titus Racer-X 29’er. I met Mike Faust at Roaring Creek which is a part of Wieser State Forest. There was about an inch of snow on the ground, and the sky was clearing. I swung a leg over the big bike, clipped in, and we headed up the long fire road leading to the entrance to the first climb. From the bottom, we soon gained about 900 vertical feet. Im not the greatest climber, but with the stability of this bike, along with the huge wheels clad with 2.35 Nevegal tires I learned to chock back my pride, clicked into granny gear and crawled up the snowy slope to the top. Clean. No spin outs, no fumbles, just a slow, steady climb to the top. Very cool.

We rolled on, dipping in and out of smaller ups and down for the next 20 miles or so. The ride was great, the terrain was fun and varied, and I really did enjoy the ride. Once the wheels were rolling, they rolled well and held their lines tenaciously. These characteristics did come at a price, however. The price for the wheels that keep rolling? They didn’t want to spin up quickly so starts were tougher than with a 26’er, and bringing them to a halt took more time as well. Maybe larger rotors would help that part out since these were standard 6-inch XT units. The price for the stability? I had a really hard time lofting the front wheel when I wanted to, so I hit some rocks and logs much more squarely than I do on a smaller wheel.

I gotta say Im mixed. It was a great bike, and if I was trail riding all day I think it would be a great ride. On the other hand I feel the qualities of a 29er seem to fit best on a singlespeed. Having demoed some SS 29’ers, that’s where I am feeling the benefits of the wheel size really lie- great traction to stand and mash up hills. Smooth rolling to keep momentum going. That, to me, is singlespeed heaven. But with the choice of gears, I really like the snap of my 26 inch wheels under me, so I think that is how I will do it. A 29er singlespeed, and my 26 inch FS sports car. Good day, good ride, good learning. I love this stuff.

Weighed in this morning,and the scale smiled at me and said '192.' Good, looks like my weight isnt going through the peaks and valleys of my world of weight control and the weight is consistently coming down. I have 3 more weeks until I need to stabilize so I figure I should be able to cleanly hit low 180's by the time I need to fuel properly again and not be cutting weight. Excellent. Last nights ride was cherry as well. Tom, Scott, and Jay DeJesus showed up for some quality time on SML and we rode what I call 'the big loop.' Basically think stinger-bones-Kahuna-Lugbuster-Ono-Goat-Witch-Mohican-Shark-Rim-Slalom-Birch-Deer Path. I tried my race wheels and tires for the first time this year and see what pressures are working for me. I started with 40psi, and seeing that I had 2 flats, I guess that is a little low. Traction was great, though, because the only thing that stopped my march up lungbuster was a flat that I got somewhere bombing down kahuna. I guess Ill try 45psi next time out and see how it goes. I also got air in my brake lines when I changed that flat because I lost about 90% of my braking after that...oh well, brakes only slow you down anyway. We rode on really enjoying being out there, watching the sun set over the ridge right where the lower ridge comes into South Mountain ridge, challenging ourselves with a climb up Witch, and getting 'secrets' from Jay on how to improve our riding. There was a point in there that was really cool for me- Jay acknowledged me as a rider. He decided to get behind Scott and Tom to give them tips, but left me behind. In that small action I felt like he was saying 'I dont need to worry about you' and knew I would be doing the right things. I dont know if it was intentional, hell, I dont know if he even meant that, but in my little world that is how it felt and it felt pretty damn good. He even used me as a 'rabbit' when helping Scott with some climbing technique....even though I completely overshot the next turn because of a lack of brakes ;)

It was a good night.

Ride fast, take chances-

/Dan