Well, I finally got a new bike! I'll put up pictures of her this weekend, but a serious lack of funds, and a generous discount by my friends at Contes got me on a 2006 Lapierre. A what? Yep, one of those Frenchie bikes. Just so you know, this wench is not a lay down on the road and let the enemy take the town kind of girl. I'm seeing her as a crack that whip studette in leather with spike heels. (Yes, guys, I know that you are getting that far away look in your eyes right about now. Just watch yourself!
She's silly light, plenty stiff, and fits pretty good. I took her out at the store and did a mini-crit course around the school, and any lack of whatever was on my part, not hers. Last night I picked her up and went out on the chip seal roads near the house. Its gonna take a bit to get her to be nice to me, and the first thing that has to change is the saddle.
Tonight its off to James Schaeffer's for dinner, so I'll let him "test her out", and maybe ride some of the kinks out of her. Maybe we'll even let Susan watch!
Friday, August 31, 2007
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Greetings from Atlanta
There isn't much that will get me to wear a suit, but Monday and Tuesday found me in Atlanta, in my funeral suit, mediating a large, convoluted case for the fourth time. Nope in this case, the third time was not the charm, the fourth time, either. I just love getting up at 3 am to fly out on lost causes like this one, but in the end, I always find little slices of life to keep myself amused...
Fun stuff, like the fact that they were supposed to be doing blasting right outside the conference room tht they planted me in. "Oh, dont worry, the'll fire off a horn first then you can go to the window and watch!" NOT! I've handled far too many blasting fiasco's for that! If I had heard that horn, I was planning to exit, stage left in a hurry. Me, plate glass, and dynamite would not be a good combination.
I did get to see the gay (?), transvestite (?), male hooker in a wedding dres out that window though. Life on Peachtree is apparently quite interesting. Kinda have to wonder how many of the boys in the corner offices were trying to make that bride blush?
Riding back to the airport on the MARTA on the full train was interesting as well. Two young ladies got on and proceeded to clock me with a bag of stuff. Then one of them just about hit the ground and shielded herself for the punch that she knew was coming. Sorry honey, lover here, not a fighter. When she calmed down I found out that she and her friend were on their way to some kind of probation, rehab, anger management, self-improvement class that they were court ordered to attend in lieu of jail. They apparently hate that place as the counselor talks too much and are planning on taking her out. Yep, I draw the weird ones like flies.
Once at the airport, I missed getting on an earlier flight and had several hours to kill. I camped out at the gate to read for awhile. (rule number one, always carry a good book.) At the gate, I got to see a middle-aged white guy have a total melt down when he missed his connection. I guess he forgot rule number one and chose to put on the entertainment for the morning instead. The show got so good that I had to call Cliff to give him the blow by blow as he stomped, threw luggage, cussed, banged on the glass to try to get the pilot to return to the terminal, etc... They finally got him sequestered in a room somewhere, and I suspect that he spent the day in the company of the boys at Homeland Security.
So if you get stuck in an airport after a lost cause meeting, remember to bring a book. Then you too will have time to enjoy the shows around you!
Fun stuff, like the fact that they were supposed to be doing blasting right outside the conference room tht they planted me in. "Oh, dont worry, the'll fire off a horn first then you can go to the window and watch!" NOT! I've handled far too many blasting fiasco's for that! If I had heard that horn, I was planning to exit, stage left in a hurry. Me, plate glass, and dynamite would not be a good combination.
I did get to see the gay (?), transvestite (?), male hooker in a wedding dres out that window though. Life on Peachtree is apparently quite interesting. Kinda have to wonder how many of the boys in the corner offices were trying to make that bride blush?
Riding back to the airport on the MARTA on the full train was interesting as well. Two young ladies got on and proceeded to clock me with a bag of stuff. Then one of them just about hit the ground and shielded herself for the punch that she knew was coming. Sorry honey, lover here, not a fighter. When she calmed down I found out that she and her friend were on their way to some kind of probation, rehab, anger management, self-improvement class that they were court ordered to attend in lieu of jail. They apparently hate that place as the counselor talks too much and are planning on taking her out. Yep, I draw the weird ones like flies.
Once at the airport, I missed getting on an earlier flight and had several hours to kill. I camped out at the gate to read for awhile. (rule number one, always carry a good book.) At the gate, I got to see a middle-aged white guy have a total melt down when he missed his connection. I guess he forgot rule number one and chose to put on the entertainment for the morning instead. The show got so good that I had to call Cliff to give him the blow by blow as he stomped, threw luggage, cussed, banged on the glass to try to get the pilot to return to the terminal, etc... They finally got him sequestered in a room somewhere, and I suspect that he spent the day in the company of the boys at Homeland Security.
So if you get stuck in an airport after a lost cause meeting, remember to bring a book. Then you too will have time to enjoy the shows around you!
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
The Mom Ride
Last year, after J's Dad died suddenly, we started the Dad memorial ride. Somehow we all figured tht a whole lot of suffering, with your best friends, would help J feel better. It seemed to work, so we decided to continue the ride this year in honor of my Mom who died this Spring.
Unlike J's Dad, my Mom endured a 20+ year illness that was mostly caused by smoking. At age 50 she started having severe cramps in her feet and legs, which being a nurse, she ignored. The cramps were the warning sign that her decending aorta was blocked and dying.
Many years, many surgeries later she defied the odds again and again until this Spring. She remains the strongest person I've ever known, and I will never understand her mountain born determination to overcome the odds. I miss her each and every day.
J, Cliff and I set off from the Powhattan Elementary School, fittingly enough, on one of the toughest days of the year. 7:30 am and we were sweating just standing in the parking lot. Temps were supposed to hit the high 90's with very oppressive humidity, mold, ozone and of course, the treat of severe thunderstorms. We invited other people to join us, but were met with uniform protests of "too hot!"
It didn't take long for J and I to decide that we need a team car. Why should the pros e the only ones who can raise a hand and get service? Long about mile 65, when my feet and hands were swelling and we had to stop to loosen my shooes, the fantasy of having a soigneur come rub my feet got pretty intense. Cliff wasnt touching those feet, we were all pretty rank by then!
In the end we drank 3 gallons of gatoraide, 4 powerbars, 2 gus, 2 fig newton packs, 3 bags of chips, a bag of pretzels, 9 cokes, and a Propel. Guess who was drinking Propel, yep, that would be J. Hot Propel isnt tops in my books at the best of times. Hot anything is just nasty. Running out of hot gatoraide long before the next store stop was even worse! See we really need that team car!
We did manage to save two turtles, which in my book give me enough turtle points to cuss freely this week. J killed a butterfly, so I figure she's in the hole. Cliff endured us, so he gets sainthood.
Cutting one gravel road out made the ride a wee bit short this year. I figure with all the bonus miles we've accumulated in centuries over the years that we could cheat one time. It was hot, we sweated profusely, used copious amounts of butt butter, and survived to proclaim that we aren't drinking any more hot fluid ever again! It was a tough day, in honor of a tough lady. I love you, Mom.
Unlike J's Dad, my Mom endured a 20+ year illness that was mostly caused by smoking. At age 50 she started having severe cramps in her feet and legs, which being a nurse, she ignored. The cramps were the warning sign that her decending aorta was blocked and dying.
Many years, many surgeries later she defied the odds again and again until this Spring. She remains the strongest person I've ever known, and I will never understand her mountain born determination to overcome the odds. I miss her each and every day.
J, Cliff and I set off from the Powhattan Elementary School, fittingly enough, on one of the toughest days of the year. 7:30 am and we were sweating just standing in the parking lot. Temps were supposed to hit the high 90's with very oppressive humidity, mold, ozone and of course, the treat of severe thunderstorms. We invited other people to join us, but were met with uniform protests of "too hot!"
It didn't take long for J and I to decide that we need a team car. Why should the pros e the only ones who can raise a hand and get service? Long about mile 65, when my feet and hands were swelling and we had to stop to loosen my shooes, the fantasy of having a soigneur come rub my feet got pretty intense. Cliff wasnt touching those feet, we were all pretty rank by then!
In the end we drank 3 gallons of gatoraide, 4 powerbars, 2 gus, 2 fig newton packs, 3 bags of chips, a bag of pretzels, 9 cokes, and a Propel. Guess who was drinking Propel, yep, that would be J. Hot Propel isnt tops in my books at the best of times. Hot anything is just nasty. Running out of hot gatoraide long before the next store stop was even worse! See we really need that team car!
We did manage to save two turtles, which in my book give me enough turtle points to cuss freely this week. J killed a butterfly, so I figure she's in the hole. Cliff endured us, so he gets sainthood.
Cutting one gravel road out made the ride a wee bit short this year. I figure with all the bonus miles we've accumulated in centuries over the years that we could cheat one time. It was hot, we sweated profusely, used copious amounts of butt butter, and survived to proclaim that we aren't drinking any more hot fluid ever again! It was a tough day, in honor of a tough lady. I love you, Mom.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Sometimes things go your way...
One of my ex- team mates was looking at the USA Cycling rankings and noticed that Jacob and I were ranked number one NATIONALLY. Jacob I can understand. Me, I do a really good job, but lets be honest, BJ beats me. I'm thinking the races they used in the ranking must be weighted heavily for last year, because BJ raced 1-3 last year, and without her, I won most of the tt's I entered.
Road Womens Master Individual Time Trial Rankings
Rank
Points
Name
License
Hometown
1
216
Karen Hanson
202047
Manakin Sabot, VA
2
242
B Samuel
210775
Va Beach, VA
3
267
Barbara Grabowski
135462
Pittsburgh, PA
4
289
Karen Zazzera
221409
Scottsdale, AZ
5
305
Linda Fahey
220980
Tucson, AZ
6
306
Lorraine Lipfert
242666
Harleysville, PA
7
307
Debra Dunn
65625
Fayetteville, AR
8
317
Rachel Gioannini
202385
Tucson, AZ
9
319
Sally Snead
169596
Richmond, VA
10
327
Kathryn Wilder
43406
Newtown, PA
BJ is ranked #1 in her age group. I'm sure that she'll be whopping up on me when the next ranking comes out. For now I guess I'll bask in the glow of this, as it will probably never happen again! Of course, this and $5 would probably buy me a cup of coffee at Starbucks if I drank the nasty stuff!
I copied the picture from velophotos.net. That guy takes some of the best cycling photos I've ever seen. He took one of J's infamous crash that we call "Julie saves the bottle." I liked it so much I had to buy it. Its the most balanced photo, with great color, and completely shows what its like in those mindless nano-seconds right after you go splat. If you haven't taken a gander at his site before, happy surfing!
Monday, August 20, 2007
Only an idiot would jump into a bear cage
Bears eat man at beer festival
Story Highlights
A 23-year old Serb was found dead and half-eaten in bear cage
Naked body was found in enclosure at Belgrade Zoo
Zookeepers believe man was drunk or drugged
BELGRADE, Serbia (Reuters) -- A 23-year old Serb was found dead and half-eaten in the bear cage of Belgrade Zoo at the weekend during the annual beer festival.
The man was found naked, with his clothes lying intact inside the cage. Two adult bears, Masha and Misha, had dragged the body to their feeding corner and reacted angrily when keepers tried to recover it.
"There's a good chance he was drunk or drugged. Only an idiot would jump into the bear cage," zoo director Vuk Bojovic told Reuters.
Local media reported that police found several mobile phones inside the cage, as well as bricks, stones and beer cans
Story Highlights
A 23-year old Serb was found dead and half-eaten in bear cage
Naked body was found in enclosure at Belgrade Zoo
Zookeepers believe man was drunk or drugged
BELGRADE, Serbia (Reuters) -- A 23-year old Serb was found dead and half-eaten in the bear cage of Belgrade Zoo at the weekend during the annual beer festival.
The man was found naked, with his clothes lying intact inside the cage. Two adult bears, Masha and Misha, had dragged the body to their feeding corner and reacted angrily when keepers tried to recover it.
"There's a good chance he was drunk or drugged. Only an idiot would jump into the bear cage," zoo director Vuk Bojovic told Reuters.
Local media reported that police found several mobile phones inside the cage, as well as bricks, stones and beer cans
The last race of the season
You couldn't have picked a better day for our last race. Cool, sunny, dry, a slight breeze, and best of all, close to home. Life is good. It's also sad, as I was just getting back in the swing of things, and can honestly say that I felt better on Saturday than I have all year.
My job Saturday was to keep J safe and get her the Cat 4 win so that she could upgrade. Like she needed me... J and Maria took off and lapped the field assuring J of the win if she could just not get taken out. With one determined squirrelygirlie in the field, I was a bit nervous for J's survival and had to go up and have one if the "infamous Karen talks" with the offender. She might have palmares as long as my arm, but she was a dangerous person to be near. It was funny, Ann Hardy warned me pre-race not to look at her or she'd make me nutz. I did my best until she "swooped" into the curve and almost too J out. Then it was time for the talk.
Jenn came out for her first ever race and had a blast. Racing is FUN! I was so proud of her, I told her to stick with the pack as long as she could, and when she got dropped to move to the outside and try to make a sub-pack. Well, those girls weren't fast enough for Jenn! She just kept rejoining the big dogs when she could. Way to go girl!
And big kudos to Kristin! She raced a tri in the morning, changed clothes and came out and won the jr womens race, beating the younger boys. Kristin rocks!
After the race we were entertained by a guy getting nekked. We tried to get him to step a bit farther away from the car, you know, for artistic purposes. He did agree to take a picture of us after a celebration of champagne and fresh watermellon, even if he wouldnt let us take pictures of him. That's Ben and Maria along with me and J. The next picture is James. He wouldnt let us see him nekked, either.
Next week is the start of "love your bike season" aka how many centuries can you cram in before it gets too cold. Sunday, 8:30 am, Powhattan. Be there, be square.
Oh, and as of this morning, Cliff has a new foundling. A red dobie that appeared this morning after the big storm last night. I bet he got scared and ran off, he is too well cared for to have been droppped off. We'll find his home.
And, today I should know what kind of a break I can get from Giant on a new frame. The wait is killing me! I miss Trixie!
Happy trails
Karen
My job Saturday was to keep J safe and get her the Cat 4 win so that she could upgrade. Like she needed me... J and Maria took off and lapped the field assuring J of the win if she could just not get taken out. With one determined squirrelygirlie in the field, I was a bit nervous for J's survival and had to go up and have one if the "infamous Karen talks" with the offender. She might have palmares as long as my arm, but she was a dangerous person to be near. It was funny, Ann Hardy warned me pre-race not to look at her or she'd make me nutz. I did my best until she "swooped" into the curve and almost too J out. Then it was time for the talk.
Jenn came out for her first ever race and had a blast. Racing is FUN! I was so proud of her, I told her to stick with the pack as long as she could, and when she got dropped to move to the outside and try to make a sub-pack. Well, those girls weren't fast enough for Jenn! She just kept rejoining the big dogs when she could. Way to go girl!
And big kudos to Kristin! She raced a tri in the morning, changed clothes and came out and won the jr womens race, beating the younger boys. Kristin rocks!
After the race we were entertained by a guy getting nekked. We tried to get him to step a bit farther away from the car, you know, for artistic purposes. He did agree to take a picture of us after a celebration of champagne and fresh watermellon, even if he wouldnt let us take pictures of him. That's Ben and Maria along with me and J. The next picture is James. He wouldnt let us see him nekked, either.
Next week is the start of "love your bike season" aka how many centuries can you cram in before it gets too cold. Sunday, 8:30 am, Powhattan. Be there, be square.
Oh, and as of this morning, Cliff has a new foundling. A red dobie that appeared this morning after the big storm last night. I bet he got scared and ran off, he is too well cared for to have been droppped off. We'll find his home.
And, today I should know what kind of a break I can get from Giant on a new frame. The wait is killing me! I miss Trixie!
Happy trails
Karen
Friday, August 17, 2007
Alas, poor Trixie, I loved her well
I got home late Wednesday and went out for a spin, alone, which I really enjoy sometimes. Coming up the hill on Dunn's Chapel, a motorcycle pulled behind me, revved his engine, and then pulled up beside me and just hung there. So I glanced over to see what the deal was, and the guy looked at me and said, "Damn, you're slow."
It was my friend Les, who I hadn't seen in months. Les and a bunch of guys got creamed a few years back by a driver who turned right into them. Les' patella was shattered, with pieced ending up by his ankle and mid quad. I love Les. He's funny, self-depricating, a hard puller, and an all around nice guy. I badgered him mercilessly about him not riding with me, and he promised to come out to Camp Runamuck.
Thursday I got home and checked the weather, and the radar was clear. It was stinking hot, so I decided to go my "shady" route, to try to beat the 100 degree heat. I called Cliff, and he said that he was pretty whipped after working all day hand grading a lot, and he wasnt getting anywhere near the bike.
Fine, like I said, I like riding alone. I can go at Karen Pace, whatever pace that is, and go where I want to go. The ride was going great until I got to about 17 miles, and came out of the trees. At that point I thought I better give Cliff a ring to ask him about that solid, dark grey sky.
Cliff said, that it wasn't bad, he was thinking about going out for a bit on the bike, but towards Gum Springs he could hear it rumbling a bit. I told him that it looked clear towards my house, but towards Beaverdam I could see it starting to flash. That appeared to be just fine, and it looked like the storm was doing the normal thing and moving to dump rain on someone else's house.
Four minutes later, the phone rang and Cliff told me that he thought that I had at best ten minutes before all hell broke loose. I put the bike on time trial cruise, and rode at my max trying to beat the storm in. Now I'm a wee bit bad on math, but even Bush Fuzzy Math wasnt going to get me home. 10 miles, 10 minutes. Hmmm.
As I was about to turn on Spring, all hell broke loose. I kid you not, trees were going sideways, branches were crashing everywhere, and there was about a 60 mph cross wind. I had to get off the bike. So I crawled up under an oak tree, and tried to make myself really small. I've been out in bad storms before, but this was amazing. I called Cliff, and he told me to tough it out. Then I called J, and left her a message that I was out and in a bad way. A endless period of time passed and Cliff called to tell me that he was coming, and where exactly was I, and then the phone went dead.
I don't know what it is about hope, but as soon as he said that he was coming, I stood up so that he could see me. The world was falling all around me, but it was going to be just fine, because Cliff was coming. Yes, I am stupid.
Right after that a red truck, pulling a trailer with a itty bitty back hoe on it went by. Then it backed up, and I tried to get to the road to say thanks, but hey, Cliff is coming. It was Les. My hero. He told me that I HAD TO GET IN THE TRUCK. NOW. So he backed into a small clearing, and I leaned Trixie up against the truck and got in.
So I get to see Les two days in a row after not seeing him for months. We were talking about how amazing the storm was, that a tree was probably going to fall on the truck and kill us both, and other stuff. I kept trying to get Cliff on the phone, and got to him in a broken up call. All I could make out was that he was coming, trees down, new routes, trying to get there, where are you? And the phone went dead.
And then Les said that he was hung up on something, and I realized that he was trying to maneuver the truck so that Cliff could see us from the road.... Hung up on something... Somehow that sounded like...
Trixie.
Yep, poor Trixie sacraficed herself to the storm gods so that we would all get thru the storm safe. Poor Les, doesn't see me for months, stops to help a dumb sap who is hiding under a tree, and runs over her bike. Now, there is tremendous humor in this, and I started laughing. I finally got him to laugh too. He has insisted that he is buying me a new bike, and it is just not going to happen. I think the components are going to be ok, the front wheel should be ok. Hopefully, Giant has a crash replacement policy and I can get a new frame.
Cliff finally got to us, and packed me in the van and got me home. The destruction was amazing. Isabel was not nearly so bad. There were trees down everywhere, roads blocked, and of course the whole area was without power. Wave after wave of bad storms hit all night, and I'm hoping that when I get home tonight I find that I haven't lost too many trees.
So, does anyone know what Giants crash replacement policy is? Or have any really good links to clearance bikes? Maybe its time to get that new Scott after all.
It was my friend Les, who I hadn't seen in months. Les and a bunch of guys got creamed a few years back by a driver who turned right into them. Les' patella was shattered, with pieced ending up by his ankle and mid quad. I love Les. He's funny, self-depricating, a hard puller, and an all around nice guy. I badgered him mercilessly about him not riding with me, and he promised to come out to Camp Runamuck.
Thursday I got home and checked the weather, and the radar was clear. It was stinking hot, so I decided to go my "shady" route, to try to beat the 100 degree heat. I called Cliff, and he said that he was pretty whipped after working all day hand grading a lot, and he wasnt getting anywhere near the bike.
Fine, like I said, I like riding alone. I can go at Karen Pace, whatever pace that is, and go where I want to go. The ride was going great until I got to about 17 miles, and came out of the trees. At that point I thought I better give Cliff a ring to ask him about that solid, dark grey sky.
Cliff said, that it wasn't bad, he was thinking about going out for a bit on the bike, but towards Gum Springs he could hear it rumbling a bit. I told him that it looked clear towards my house, but towards Beaverdam I could see it starting to flash. That appeared to be just fine, and it looked like the storm was doing the normal thing and moving to dump rain on someone else's house.
Four minutes later, the phone rang and Cliff told me that he thought that I had at best ten minutes before all hell broke loose. I put the bike on time trial cruise, and rode at my max trying to beat the storm in. Now I'm a wee bit bad on math, but even Bush Fuzzy Math wasnt going to get me home. 10 miles, 10 minutes. Hmmm.
As I was about to turn on Spring, all hell broke loose. I kid you not, trees were going sideways, branches were crashing everywhere, and there was about a 60 mph cross wind. I had to get off the bike. So I crawled up under an oak tree, and tried to make myself really small. I've been out in bad storms before, but this was amazing. I called Cliff, and he told me to tough it out. Then I called J, and left her a message that I was out and in a bad way. A endless period of time passed and Cliff called to tell me that he was coming, and where exactly was I, and then the phone went dead.
I don't know what it is about hope, but as soon as he said that he was coming, I stood up so that he could see me. The world was falling all around me, but it was going to be just fine, because Cliff was coming. Yes, I am stupid.
Right after that a red truck, pulling a trailer with a itty bitty back hoe on it went by. Then it backed up, and I tried to get to the road to say thanks, but hey, Cliff is coming. It was Les. My hero. He told me that I HAD TO GET IN THE TRUCK. NOW. So he backed into a small clearing, and I leaned Trixie up against the truck and got in.
So I get to see Les two days in a row after not seeing him for months. We were talking about how amazing the storm was, that a tree was probably going to fall on the truck and kill us both, and other stuff. I kept trying to get Cliff on the phone, and got to him in a broken up call. All I could make out was that he was coming, trees down, new routes, trying to get there, where are you? And the phone went dead.
And then Les said that he was hung up on something, and I realized that he was trying to maneuver the truck so that Cliff could see us from the road.... Hung up on something... Somehow that sounded like...
Trixie.
Yep, poor Trixie sacraficed herself to the storm gods so that we would all get thru the storm safe. Poor Les, doesn't see me for months, stops to help a dumb sap who is hiding under a tree, and runs over her bike. Now, there is tremendous humor in this, and I started laughing. I finally got him to laugh too. He has insisted that he is buying me a new bike, and it is just not going to happen. I think the components are going to be ok, the front wheel should be ok. Hopefully, Giant has a crash replacement policy and I can get a new frame.
Cliff finally got to us, and packed me in the van and got me home. The destruction was amazing. Isabel was not nearly so bad. There were trees down everywhere, roads blocked, and of course the whole area was without power. Wave after wave of bad storms hit all night, and I'm hoping that when I get home tonight I find that I haven't lost too many trees.
So, does anyone know what Giants crash replacement policy is? Or have any really good links to clearance bikes? Maybe its time to get that new Scott after all.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Today's foaming rant
From today's Cycling News: "Matt White of Discovery Channel had a run-in with one of those dogs who seem to be plaguing the peloton this year. While out training with Julian Dean, White collided with a dog who ran into the road. The dog walked away, but White didn't, suffering a double skull fracture. It was not known whether he was wearing a helmet."
Ok, so most of you know that I love dogs. It's owners that I have problems with. On the Tuesday Chick's Ride, there is this little mop dog that consistently comes out and chases us on the road. You know, a pocket rocket. The other day, her owner was out and yelled at us, not to worry that she wouldn't bite us. Actually J thought she said "Just run over her, she won't bite you." I'm not exactly sure that that's an exact translation, but it was something like that. I'd jus as soon not see the little mite get squished, so if this behavior continues, and the owner doesn't care, I swear one day I'm going to reach down and scoop her up and put her in my jersey pocket and find her a home that does care. If you'd like a little yappy dog, let me know. I bet I can get my hands on one.
Now that we are deep in the dog days of August, remember to keep your dogs cool. (you too.) Thats Dallas doing what Ann Hardy calls a "flop." Hey, being chased around by two wind up toy dogs is hard work! Lucky for the boys, we can go over to Cliff's and they can run in and out of the South Anna until its time for snacks. Life is good.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Give a little, get a little
It's been a funny week as far as my women's program goes. I usually do a "beginning women's" ride on Wednesdays, but some work commitments have made me have to change the rides around to when I can do them. So Monday I had a new team mate ride with me who has never raced before. She's going to be good, she is going to have fun, she just needs to get more time on the bike! I've pretty much talked her into doing the Go Fast race on Saturday with the understanding that its a learning experience, that she IS going to get dropped, and should then move to the outside of the track and watch and learn. Sarah is bringing two newbies, and the chicks from Fat Frogs are bringing some newbies as well. Heck, we all have to start somewhere, right?
So why do guys keep telling the newbie chicks to stay home? Sheesh, it really ticks me off. This is the best place to learn what racing is about. Its a round track, no corners, and plenty of room to get out of the way of the cat 1-3 racers. Guys, you know what your momma said, cant say something nice, shut up. Send your newbies to me and I'll teach them how to be safe out there.
And while I'm at it, big kudos to the other teams who really work hard to grow women's racing. You know teams like Artemis, Fat Frogs, and Tripower. I hear people bemoaning the fact that more women don't race, but can you honestly say that you do anything to make new women feel comfortable? Do you take the time to introduce yourself and offer to help?
James' daughter Kristin said something after the Tour du Port and Peake races that showed what support really is... Kristin is a very talented young rider, and the juniors were all thrown in together. She's 10. The 17 and 18 year old boys were flying around the course, and she said that everytime they came by her they encouraged her. Way to go guys! Her experience at those races was so positive that I thought that I'd never get her off the bike! Thats a picture of her winning her first state championship at the PLT Age Graded TT! James and Susan are soooo proud!
Well anyway, last night I had a bunch of new people and old people over to ride. One of the new girls(Lynn) who is in the Trigirl program told me that she was riding this weekend with another woman, and they happened to ride by my house. Lynn told me that Becky pointed out my house and told her that that was Karen Hanson's house, and that I taught her how to ride a bike. It just doesn't get any better than that. My week is made.
Well almost. Biker BJ is helping me on a mission to get a cutie Boston Terrier puppy out of jail and into a new home. I knew that when I needed a hand down at the beach that if I told BJ she'd be on it in a flash. I'll keep you posted. We need to get all these little guys into great homes!
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Things that make you go Hmmmm....
Ok, I've not noticed when I dont have my water bottles... but I think I'd notice if I left my LEG behind!
Japanese biker fails to notice missing leg
Story Highlights
Japanese biker failed to notice his leg had been severed below knee in accident
Biker hit a safety barrier, and rode on for 2 km (1.2 miles)
A friend picked up the missing limb which had been crushed in the collision
TOKYO, Japan (Reuters) -- A Japanese biker failed to notice his leg had been severed below the knee when he hit a safety barrier, and rode on for 2 km (1.2 miles), leaving a friend to pick up the missing limb.
The 54-year-old office worker was out on his motorcycle with a group of friends in the city of Hamamatsu, west of Tokyo, on Monday, when he was unable to negotiate a curve in the road and bumped into the central barrier, the Mainichi Shimbun said.
He felt excruciating pain, but did not notice that his right leg was missing until he stopped at the next junction, the paper quoted local police as saying.
The man and his leg were taken to hospital, but the limb had been crushed in the collision, the paper said.
Japanese biker fails to notice missing leg
Story Highlights
Japanese biker failed to notice his leg had been severed below knee in accident
Biker hit a safety barrier, and rode on for 2 km (1.2 miles)
A friend picked up the missing limb which had been crushed in the collision
TOKYO, Japan (Reuters) -- A Japanese biker failed to notice his leg had been severed below the knee when he hit a safety barrier, and rode on for 2 km (1.2 miles), leaving a friend to pick up the missing limb.
The 54-year-old office worker was out on his motorcycle with a group of friends in the city of Hamamatsu, west of Tokyo, on Monday, when he was unable to negotiate a curve in the road and bumped into the central barrier, the Mainichi Shimbun said.
He felt excruciating pain, but did not notice that his right leg was missing until he stopped at the next junction, the paper quoted local police as saying.
The man and his leg were taken to hospital, but the limb had been crushed in the collision, the paper said.
Elvis has left the building
I was hounded (get it) by everyone this weekend for the status of our foundling, Elvis. Elvis is a Walker Hound that was dumped out in Louisa. Cliff saw him, and being the softie that he is, picked him up and took him home. Actually he just had to open the van door, and Elvis hopped in and promptly fell asleep. For anyone who thinks that taking a dog out to the country ad leaving them "because country people need dogs..." what really happens is the dogs 1. get hit by a car, 2. starve to death, 3. get eaten. We have coyotes. We have bears. We have animal countrol who has better things to do than find a home for your dog.
But, Elvis got lucky. He found Cliff. First things first, Cliff fed him, put on Frontline to try to kill the fleas and ticks, and let the poor guy sleep it off in an air conditioned basement. Next thing was the push to find this sweetheart a home.
I got on the email lists and the response was gratifying. There were several people interested in Elvis, but the lucky winner was a great family from Chester, and now Elvis is called Harley, and he has his own 2 year old boy. They tell me the pair are inseparable. Harley is in high cotton, and from what they tell me, he is truely grateful to be there! He is house broken all ready, follows that boy everywere, and sleeps on the steps so that he doesn't miss anything.
Good things really do happen out there. If you cant take in a rescue dog, but would like to help, you might consider helping on the "underground railroad." A lot of rescue groups move dogs from high kill areas like the south and mid west to high adoption areas like New England. I help out American Brittany Rescue, but have moved dogs for a bunch of groups. Most of the groups work well together. Legs tend to be about 50 miles and are run with a precision that the military would be jealous of. Its easy, you meet great people, and help out a bunch of great dogs. Life is good.
Monday, August 13, 2007
The last time trial of the year
Its strange that the cycling season is over! Criminy, its only mid-August, and just as I'm starting to come back from the hip surgery and get strong again, whammo, and the season is over. It just makes me all teary eyed to think about it. Darn it.
Saturday was a good day, great weather and a beautiful course. Julie and I hooked up and did a nice pre-ride of the course, talked strategy and the never ending monologue about having her stay off the front. Julie is one of the most talented women I know, but even she can't do a break away while she is pulling the entire field with her! We talked to cool Maria about some strategies, and agreed that Julie would work with her if it all worked out. We love Maria. Heck, we love her husband, Ben as well. Us Cycor girls are just plain on a love fest. Unless of course, we hate you. Then we really hate you. Lucky for the rest of the world we dont hate many people, just the meanies who intentionally crash out J. And if that meanie does it again, I'm getting in the Queen Cab and running over her bike.
The race was supposed to be 40 minutes, but the lolly gagging start got our lap average time way down, so when they put up the lap board, those first 2 laps cut our race to 25 minutes. Right after the first two laps, the speed when thru the roof. Julie tried to get in on the breaks, but just couldn't quite get with the right one. Even Maria, speed demon that she is was having a rough day and couldnt get in the right break and stay there. Then the rest of the field took turns telling Julie to "GET OFF THE FRONT". God love her, she cant help it. As one of the top runners in the state, she has trouble believing that she just cant ride away from everyone else. She does it running sure enough! Ann Hardy and I got a chuckle out of the fact that it wouldnt be a race with J in it if you didnt hear someone telling her to get behind someone.
Of course, J won the Langley crit as a cat 4, by going on a flier with Maria and lapping the field.
Well, anyway, we never caught the break, and our nice little pack was on the last lap, which would normally fit in just peachy fine for me, and we got thru the last turn and when I went to sprint, the legs reminded me that I had no sprint type work in this year. I'm not sure, but I think J was 2nd cat 4, I was in the pack, but got a silver medal for the state crit age division. But, I didn't get dropped, didnt get lapped, and while the hip cramped a bit, it wasn't like before I took a break where my whole leg was going numb. There are silver linings everywhere if you look for them.
On to Sunday and yet another before 4 am wake up to meet Bill and his big red box SUV to come all the way back for the last PLT time trial. This is my favorite course, its not straight, its kind of shaped like a lollypop. It is almost dead flat, and I know it better than the roads at home. Unfortunately there are some defects in the road that dispite the fact that I know that course so well I always seem to find!
Bill and I had a good ride down, and he remembered to put in the Queen disc so that I could have the proper mental preparation. I even remembered to bring my water bottles this time! I got out on the road, and got a great warm up, had time to pee one last time and made it to the start where unfortunately I was only going to have one rider in front of me, my friend Glenda Craddock. Glenda has made incredible improvements in her performance and I think she is not only one of the most sexy riders out there, has a cool family, but is just plain a cool person to hang with. (she also did a wonderful portrait for me of one of my boys that I'll treasure, always.)
Glenda's hubby was giving her the psych job at the line and I knew it was going to be tough to catch her. Then it was my turn to wait a minute. My psych job, I talked to Gerald at the start about how come his corn fields looked so damn good. Corn near me is brown and should be cut now for silage. I think he is sacraficing lippy riders to appease the rain gods...
5,4, 3, 2, GO! And I was off. I could just make Glenda out in the distance and had to keep that chase tendency at bay. Blowing up at the begining of a tt is a bad thing. So, I pretty much rode by effort, keeping the numbers right, and started to feel great!
And then...
At about the 3 mile area, there is a gully, swale or something on the road. It goes clear across the road. Its always been there, I know its there. And I just flat ass nailed it. Hands came off the bars, and trust me, the Scott does not stear by itself. I got a hand on the top tube where it was just sure to do me a world of good, and the other on my aero bottle, and somehow, did not go splat and loose all my teeth. I have no idea how I pulled that one out, but it took a wee bit to get the heeby geebies calmed down again and get going.
Made the right turn and started in on the running Dirk Demol commentary, "Come on Levi, I know you can do it!" I mean, Karen. On the next turn by the swamp, I could make Glenda out in the distance. This is usually a bad section of road for me, as the Dismal Swamp comes right up to the road. Good thing I slathered myself in VICKS! I never smelled the ever present mold!
Got to the next turn to the back side of the course, and could really see Glenda now, maybe a 1/3 of a mile ahead, maybe less! And then as I was accelerating, I saw these orange arrows on the road, and my blotto mind put the bike right on them, and of course they lead me directly to the big hole that was also nicely marked with orange paint. Nailed that sucker. Bobbing, weaving and fishtailing all over the road, I could be the poster child for why aero bars are way bad. And my Mother I think pulled me out of this crash, for it took an act of an angel to have me not face first on the pavement. No splat!
I kept making up time on Glenda, and didnt hear the whomp, whomp of Biker BJ running me over, so I knew there was hope. On the turn coming back in, I could again see Glenda, and passed her in the trees. Then it was out into the sun, and the head wind! I was about blotto again when I made the line, and looked at the Garmin to see that I did EXACTLY the same time as the last tt there. Sheesh, to the second! Imagine if I hadnt tried to show the world how not to handle a a tt bike what I would have done!
Poor Bill was having the ride of his life. He is also rapidly coming into shape just in time for the season to end. He told me that he couldnt believe how great he felt, how he was just flying and passing the guys in front of him. Bill is one of the smartest people I know. He is a huge techno-geek. One would have thought that as many times as Bill has ridden the course that he would also know the exact measurements of each segment out there like I do. Nope. Cop wasnt on the back side at the turn, so Bill and another guy kept going. Hey, they were hammering, feeling good, and didnt bother to think about anything else until they hit another town, 7 MILES AWAY! So 14 miles off course, on a pretty day, sounds like a nice long ride to me. That will be yet another one that we dont let him down. I forsee Energizer Bunny stuff appearing on Bill's pimp mobile at races in the future. You know, for the guy who just keeps going, and going, and going!
Now I get to decide if I'm going to do the Turn left, go fast race on Saturday. I hate blowing a day for an 8 mile race. But its a great work out. I borrowed Felix's track bike, and if I have time to figure out how to ride the darn thing, maybe I'll do the track races. Cliff is suggesting that the promoter have lots and lots of band aids on hand. Stopping a bike with no brakes, while riding with the guys? Yeah, its an adventure!
Saturday was a good day, great weather and a beautiful course. Julie and I hooked up and did a nice pre-ride of the course, talked strategy and the never ending monologue about having her stay off the front. Julie is one of the most talented women I know, but even she can't do a break away while she is pulling the entire field with her! We talked to cool Maria about some strategies, and agreed that Julie would work with her if it all worked out. We love Maria. Heck, we love her husband, Ben as well. Us Cycor girls are just plain on a love fest. Unless of course, we hate you. Then we really hate you. Lucky for the rest of the world we dont hate many people, just the meanies who intentionally crash out J. And if that meanie does it again, I'm getting in the Queen Cab and running over her bike.
The race was supposed to be 40 minutes, but the lolly gagging start got our lap average time way down, so when they put up the lap board, those first 2 laps cut our race to 25 minutes. Right after the first two laps, the speed when thru the roof. Julie tried to get in on the breaks, but just couldn't quite get with the right one. Even Maria, speed demon that she is was having a rough day and couldnt get in the right break and stay there. Then the rest of the field took turns telling Julie to "GET OFF THE FRONT". God love her, she cant help it. As one of the top runners in the state, she has trouble believing that she just cant ride away from everyone else. She does it running sure enough! Ann Hardy and I got a chuckle out of the fact that it wouldnt be a race with J in it if you didnt hear someone telling her to get behind someone.
Of course, J won the Langley crit as a cat 4, by going on a flier with Maria and lapping the field.
Well, anyway, we never caught the break, and our nice little pack was on the last lap, which would normally fit in just peachy fine for me, and we got thru the last turn and when I went to sprint, the legs reminded me that I had no sprint type work in this year. I'm not sure, but I think J was 2nd cat 4, I was in the pack, but got a silver medal for the state crit age division. But, I didn't get dropped, didnt get lapped, and while the hip cramped a bit, it wasn't like before I took a break where my whole leg was going numb. There are silver linings everywhere if you look for them.
On to Sunday and yet another before 4 am wake up to meet Bill and his big red box SUV to come all the way back for the last PLT time trial. This is my favorite course, its not straight, its kind of shaped like a lollypop. It is almost dead flat, and I know it better than the roads at home. Unfortunately there are some defects in the road that dispite the fact that I know that course so well I always seem to find!
Bill and I had a good ride down, and he remembered to put in the Queen disc so that I could have the proper mental preparation. I even remembered to bring my water bottles this time! I got out on the road, and got a great warm up, had time to pee one last time and made it to the start where unfortunately I was only going to have one rider in front of me, my friend Glenda Craddock. Glenda has made incredible improvements in her performance and I think she is not only one of the most sexy riders out there, has a cool family, but is just plain a cool person to hang with. (she also did a wonderful portrait for me of one of my boys that I'll treasure, always.)
Glenda's hubby was giving her the psych job at the line and I knew it was going to be tough to catch her. Then it was my turn to wait a minute. My psych job, I talked to Gerald at the start about how come his corn fields looked so damn good. Corn near me is brown and should be cut now for silage. I think he is sacraficing lippy riders to appease the rain gods...
5,4, 3, 2, GO! And I was off. I could just make Glenda out in the distance and had to keep that chase tendency at bay. Blowing up at the begining of a tt is a bad thing. So, I pretty much rode by effort, keeping the numbers right, and started to feel great!
And then...
At about the 3 mile area, there is a gully, swale or something on the road. It goes clear across the road. Its always been there, I know its there. And I just flat ass nailed it. Hands came off the bars, and trust me, the Scott does not stear by itself. I got a hand on the top tube where it was just sure to do me a world of good, and the other on my aero bottle, and somehow, did not go splat and loose all my teeth. I have no idea how I pulled that one out, but it took a wee bit to get the heeby geebies calmed down again and get going.
Made the right turn and started in on the running Dirk Demol commentary, "Come on Levi, I know you can do it!" I mean, Karen. On the next turn by the swamp, I could make Glenda out in the distance. This is usually a bad section of road for me, as the Dismal Swamp comes right up to the road. Good thing I slathered myself in VICKS! I never smelled the ever present mold!
Got to the next turn to the back side of the course, and could really see Glenda now, maybe a 1/3 of a mile ahead, maybe less! And then as I was accelerating, I saw these orange arrows on the road, and my blotto mind put the bike right on them, and of course they lead me directly to the big hole that was also nicely marked with orange paint. Nailed that sucker. Bobbing, weaving and fishtailing all over the road, I could be the poster child for why aero bars are way bad. And my Mother I think pulled me out of this crash, for it took an act of an angel to have me not face first on the pavement. No splat!
I kept making up time on Glenda, and didnt hear the whomp, whomp of Biker BJ running me over, so I knew there was hope. On the turn coming back in, I could again see Glenda, and passed her in the trees. Then it was out into the sun, and the head wind! I was about blotto again when I made the line, and looked at the Garmin to see that I did EXACTLY the same time as the last tt there. Sheesh, to the second! Imagine if I hadnt tried to show the world how not to handle a a tt bike what I would have done!
Poor Bill was having the ride of his life. He is also rapidly coming into shape just in time for the season to end. He told me that he couldnt believe how great he felt, how he was just flying and passing the guys in front of him. Bill is one of the smartest people I know. He is a huge techno-geek. One would have thought that as many times as Bill has ridden the course that he would also know the exact measurements of each segment out there like I do. Nope. Cop wasnt on the back side at the turn, so Bill and another guy kept going. Hey, they were hammering, feeling good, and didnt bother to think about anything else until they hit another town, 7 MILES AWAY! So 14 miles off course, on a pretty day, sounds like a nice long ride to me. That will be yet another one that we dont let him down. I forsee Energizer Bunny stuff appearing on Bill's pimp mobile at races in the future. You know, for the guy who just keeps going, and going, and going!
Now I get to decide if I'm going to do the Turn left, go fast race on Saturday. I hate blowing a day for an 8 mile race. But its a great work out. I borrowed Felix's track bike, and if I have time to figure out how to ride the darn thing, maybe I'll do the track races. Cliff is suggesting that the promoter have lots and lots of band aids on hand. Stopping a bike with no brakes, while riding with the guys? Yeah, its an adventure!
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