Three memorable accidents

1. March 8, 2009. Somewhere north of Santa Barbara. I didn't think I'd be finishing with the pack. I didn't think I'd have the opportunity to go for a top finish. Here I was as the pack was picking up speed on the way to the finish with a ton of energy left in me, lots of food in my stomach, feeling really good. We were humming in a tight pack, with me right in the middle. We sped up, but I felt it would break apart as people sprinted too early, enticed by the visible and distant finish line. What I didn't expect was that one rider was going to cross the center line, and to avoid the officials, come sweeping back into the pack at a weird, surprising, and destabilizing angle. At the same time some dude behind me started sprinting into the mess of riders ahead of him. Chaos ensued. Two riders ahead of me bounced on each other . . . seemed to push off each other like oppositely charged magnets, had the chance to stay up, but one of them over compensated and their bikes imploded into each other with many screams and a great banging noise (two simultaneously breaking collar bones). Braking for just a half a second I just slammed right into CP's back and flipped, bike and all, around his body, landing on my head quickly followed by my right side. I kind of sat up ... felt kind of ok ... thought to myself 'wow, we were going 35 miles an hour ... I have to pee really badly.'


2. 2a.m. May 3, 2009. Market and 6th, San Francisco, California. I left the Irish pub somewhere near the marina and tried to force my way over to the Mission. Not knowing how to best cross the center of the city with all its hills, I drifted Southeast on Columbus until I hit Market. I've been sick. The sky was misting my glasses. The pavement was slick, but not enough for me to pay attention. I approached the intersections carefully, sharing tight spaces with unknown drivers. Pushing slowly through each light. At 6th street, I looked right and saw a car, it passed and I pulled down with my right foot. My glasses snapped in half and my head hurt. What happened? I'm on the ground and I can't see. 1/2 of my vision is still there. I can gather the other half. The frame is broken and won't go back together. I can feel the tightness in my neck, the blood on the bridge of my nose, and the orange sized bump on my hip. Shit. How the hell am I going to ride 2 more miles in the mist with 1/2 my glasses?
   


3. Western Pennsylvania 1995. I love riding down this hill! It's so fast and the payoff at the end is sweet -- the green grass and the lake. It's really cool to do this in a group, for the first time, too. Wait, am I too close to Justin? I've got to brake before I hit him! Next thing I know, I've got blood pouring out a thousand scapes on my arm and gravel embedded in my chin and the front of my helmet.
   

Runner up: That time I clipped my pedal turning into a parking lot. It wasn't fast, and it was a stupid way to wreck, but my shoulder hurt for about a year on any long ride.

The Jim Bender Training Method: Race Report

1. You have to get angry.

2. You have to attack. You have to recognize danger; you have to attack.

3. You have to get pummeled regularly.

I am considering entering the Jim Bender training program and at times try out some of the advice that Jim has given me, or given to Jarrett who's then given it to me. Trying the method in part is foolish. There is either total commitment or substantial failure.

The Stranford Road Race is one of the best course of the year. The countryside is beautiful – when I was driving back with Niv from Cal Poly, we talked about the area around Gilroy and wondered why Cal Poly's course wasn't out there amongst the vineyards and rolling hills East of town. I guess it's because Stanford beat them to it.

The Men's C course rode up Panoche Pass, and turned around at about 17.9 miles in. The climb wasn't too hard, but it was hard enough to explode the pack. A strong group of about a dozen riders kept the pace hot, the middle of the pack blew up, and a crew of us clustered in the last 75% of the field, while not losing any ground, soon found ourselves separated from the front group by a couple hundred feet. I worked my ass off with a guy from UNR and a couple others to close that distance on the rollers up to the turn around. We were constantly within sight of the leaders, and at the turn around, almost caught them. I'm bad at turning left (see the crit description below), and we lost a little ground. UNR fell off, and I caught a couple Cal Poly guys. They worked a little for me, and complained a little, and I started to pull with them. They fell back a little, and a Stanford rider and I worked a little. Frank bridged to us and so did a Davis rider. The Cal Poly riders came back and we had a proper chase group, but we didn't do any legitimate chasing.

In hindsight, after talking to the Davis Ride, I did everything wrong. Davis had zero incentive to catch the lead group as his teammates were driving the group and guaranteed more points if we didn't catch up. The Cal Poly and Stanford riders were sporadic in effort with no strategy. Frank and I were maintaining – I don't know about Frank, but I was concerned about trying to bridge and bonking in the process. I wanted us all to work together. That was a mistake since only a couple of us were interested and fewer were capable of doing it.

You have to recognize danger; you have to attack.

It didn't make sense not to make a solid bridge effort. I finished 18^th out of a field of 45, which is fine, but I didn't score any points. Putting in a solid effort to catch the lead group, which was always in site, and rarely increasing the gap was the right way to go. Maintaining with the chase group was simply dumb.

At the end, I thought we might be sprinting for 12^th place [it was 16th] and 1 point, so when Frank jumped and got a gap, I followed him and sat up, guaranteeing he'd cross first in our group. Stanford passed me at the line and everyone else rolled through.

The course was pretty, my effort could've been much higher. Lessons: be at the front, focus on staying with the lead group, punish the hell out of yourself to make it happen. Also, try to organize a feed when it's 80 degrees outside; thanks for the water, Frank.

You have to get angry

The Stanford Crit was on campus. I left Berkeley with a hefty amount of the Men's D squad in tow. We arrived, I warmed up and got ready to race. On the neutral lap, I saw that the course was narrow in parts, and wide in others. None of the straights were particularly long; the best place for me to move up was a slight uphill on the backside right before a less than 90 degree turn – which meant it wasn't the greatest place to move up because taking the corner tight, if you couldn't get back into line in time, meant coming to a near standstill.

The race was relatively uneventful. I got angry enough to try hard, but kept letting gaps open up. I think mostly it was mental. I was skittish about being too aggressive, having seen a number of accidents in the C's field this year. The riders who came in top positions were aggressive, moved up strategically, and held their spots. That's something I need to learn and live by. It would've helped in both the Crit and the Road Race.

The Crit today made me wish for courses like UNR and Berkeley, with short powerful hills that seem to allow me to keep position (or get away) without worrying much about positioning.

Final Thoughts

I don't have any results from the weekend, but I did see a new vein sticking out of my shin, so at least I'm walking away with something. The port ride is my new mantra, as I plan on focusing on developing my ability to sit in and defend position in tight spaces.

N.B.

I almost forgot about the TTT. I rode that with Caleb, Jordan, and Niv. Niv wrecked out on a short uphill [but I hear was feeling good enough to race in the B's RR that afternoon], and we ended up finishing 4/5. I think that it was bad luck, and since the disparities in time were less than 2 minutes between 1^st and 5^th, we'd have done just fine if we'd managed to stay together. It was a hard effort, though, and I enjoyed riding it with the B's. In the future, I think I will try to organize some C's specific TTT practice – it seems like a good way to use my skills, especially on weekends like the UCB home race.

University of Nevada, Reno

The Reno race weekend started on Wednesday when my roommate said, 'Isn't it snowing up there right now? Bike racing is going to be miserable this weekend.'I worried about the weather for a day or so, until I checked it and saw that the forecast was for clear skies and highs in the 50's – 70's. Since the weather wasn't a concern anymore, I decided to worry about the kind-of-long distance in the races. While I was doing this, I forgot to pack my shoes. Whoo, College!

After letting everyone on the team know that I'm forgetful and kind of spazzy, Rob agreed to go get my shoes when he left Berkeley on Saturday, and I ended up being able to borrow a pair of shoes from a UNR guy that were my size. I ruined Stephen's morning by borrowing his cleats and pedals, but he was really nice about that. The shoes I borrowed were fantastic – all white, carbon bottoms, shiny, and Euro. I was totally ready to race.

The race flyer made claims about the UNR course being tough and constant – no time for a rest until you fall off the back of the pack – and they weren't really lying. There were long gradual climbs on both the out and the back, and at no time could a ride just coast a long unless the rest of the guys in the pack were needlessly braking on the moderate descents. The course required constant pedaling and effort.

I was fine with all of this. At the turn around, or halfway point, though, the field hammered out of the gate and dropped a Stanford rider, then they dropped me from the back. I'd been yo-yoing all race – I was either pulling up front or bouncing off the back, trying to stay on wheels. I think the lingering memory of my still-sprained thumb from UCSB was making a me a little gun-shy on the drafting and causing me to do more work than necessary. All wounds heal with time, I suppose.

Anyhow, Chris “Superman I'll pull you the whole way” Rhodes dropped back and pulled me back onto the pack, but it didn't stick and I ended up falling off. The rest of the race was a fun time-trial. I started feeling better and faster and rode the course like a time trial. Eventually, I met up with a Davis rider and we worked together a little, but mostly me, until we approached the finish. We lined up abreast to spring for 12th (or so I thought) and 1 point. A guy in a pickup took some time to yell at us about riding single file as he cruised in the on-coming lane for a couple of minutes, and then, on the sprint, Davis managed to pull through right before me, I think. After I checked the results, it turned out that the sprint was for 9th and 4 points, so I got 10th, which was fine with me after getting dropped from the pack.

Despite Chris's efforts in getting me back into the field, he had massive reserves and ended up finishing with the lead group at 4th place, which was pretty epic.

That evening was spent at Tenille's, who hosted a sweet party. The Cal kids all started getting cranky and tired as they thought about racing and homework and whatever else nerds who cycle think about around 9pm. After about an hour of hoping the lights might dim, they did dim and the noise abated, and everyone passed out. It was a great place to stay and the food was amazing (thanks Adriana and Jarrett and whoever else cooked!).


The crit course was a little more appropriate for my abilities. It was short, and had a hill that I knew I'd be able to power through. The wind was high and the temperature low, so after a weather induced 1 hour delay, the C's race got started. I was warmed up and ready, but a missing Davis rider caused a 5 minute delay. When he didn't show, the race started without him.


I was on the front for the first lap, and on the uphill toward the finish, a couple guys came by me on the left. I thought 'Fine, an attack, I'll grab their wheels and pull the field with me and them.' At the top of the rise, I looked back and noticed just 1 UNR guy behind me. I didn't think much of it, pedaled hard and tried to catch the Davis rider up ahead. Eventually, me, UNR and another Davis reeled him in, and I noticed that the field was nowhere in site. This break that formed in the first lap, stayed away the entire race. I didn't see the field at any point during the crit. We did a good job working together, but to be fair, Davis should have done more of the work and I'd've made them if I'd be thinking strategically. They spent most of the race trying to drop me, which they did at 3 to go, but only by about 20 feet. Also on 3 to go, I threw up in my mouth a little, which was kind of real. Before the last corner, UNR sprinted around me and got a nice gap for his 3rd place. On the stretch to the finish, I sprinted and almost chased him down for 3rd, but he kept it and deserved it.


The crit was my highest collegiate (or any other) finish, and I was really excited by the way it played out. It seemed like a hard course, but there were no wrecks and I had a blast.

Bike racing is fun.

Ouch: A Race Report

My optimism soared on the way to UCSB. Looking forward to a flat crit and a chance to score points after a personally disappointing weekend at SLO (flat tire and unrecorded finish), I loaded up into a car with 4 other dudes for a 5 hour drive. We got burritos and ate cookies on the way down (some of us had more than others), fixed an obliterated radiator hose, talked to some dude named Wayne, and finally landed on Jacob's parents' hardwood floor.

The crit on Saturday was fun, but kind of slow. Kyle spent a lot of time setting the pace while Jesse and I sat back out of the wind. The overall pace seemed relatively slow, and the C's are still having trouble taking corners wide enough to keep the race running smoothly. The pack was consuming itself pretty well for the most part, though, and we all found ourselves at varying positions throughout the race. On the next to the last lap, I watched as a rider in the middle of the pack (I think Santa Clara, but there was a UCSB dude that looked just like him so I'm not sure) bounced like a ping pong ball off Kyle and into another rider, taking that guy and another guy out. One of the guys going down screamed the whole way to the pavement and it looked like a slow motion death collision. I think he was actually not badly hurt, despite the primal earth grating shriek he let out when going down.

In the field sprint, I was more or less set up at about twentieth position and was able to sprint up to 9th. It was a good lesson for me because I didn't think I was up far enough to score, but I sprinted anyhow, kept the juice on through the last straight up to the finish and ended up passing a bunch of guys that started sprinting too early.

I was going to try to race with the 4's that afternoon, but due to VeloPromo's disorganization, I don't have a license and upgrading with a wrinkled yellow carbon copy receipt seems to be a little tough.

The road race on the next day was a little intimidating because of the hill at the end. I climb well enough for my size, but I simply didn't expect to keep with the good climbers throughout the race. Again, though, the race was slower than I expected, and no one really felt like pushing it up the hill on the first lap, they didn't on the second lap, and while they did on the third lap, it was basically a 3 minute interval and everyone sat up about halfway through. There was a ridiculous attempted break at the top of the hill, but they didn't make it far on the downhill (try attacking on the hill next time, guys). I managed to stay on, and found myself in the middle of the pack on the rolling section leading up to the finish.

I was hyped. I didn't think I'd be finishing with the pack. I didn't think I'd have the opportunity to go for a top five finish. I thought best case would've been a repeat of UCLA where I came in in the middle of the chase group for ninth place. Here I was as the pack was picking up speed on the way to the finish with a ton of energy left in me, lots of food in my stomach, and feeling really good. We were coming in a tight pack, with me right in the middle. We sped up, but I felt it would break apart as people sprinted too early, enticed by the visible but still distant finish line. What I didn't expect was that one UCLA rider was going to cross the center line, and in attempt to avoid the watchful eyes of the officials, sweep back into the pack at a weird, surprising, and destabilizing angle. At the same time, I'm told, some dude behind me started sprinting from the BACK of the pack. Chaos ensued. Stanford and CP riders ahead of me bounced on each other ... seemed to push off each other like oppositely charged magnets, had the chance to stay up, but I guess one of them over compensated and their bikes imploded into each other with many screams and a great banging noise (which was probably the thunderclap associated with two simultaneously breaking collar bones). I had about a half second to brake, but not too sharply as I was still worried about anyone behind me, and I just slammed right into CP's back and flipped, bike and all, around his body, landing on my head quickly followed by my right side. I kind of sat up ... felt kind of ok ... thought to myself 'wow, we were going 35 miles an hour ... I have to pee really badly.'

I peed as a I apologized to the official in the follow car for my lack of decorum, but she seemed more concerned with the groans coming from behind me.

Today, I feel ok. I can use my thumb to grasp things again, and most of range-of-motion in my shoulder is back, if it's still really sore. I cracked my helmet in two places, but my $120 kit is still in pristine shape, so all in all, what I really lost was the opportunity to have a great finish on hilly-road race. Dammit.

My conclusion from the C's race: Riders didn't want to work, but they were willing to take wild chances at inappropriate times. Both races were pretty slow, and I found myself approaching the finish line with a lot of energy in reserves. I'm thinking that an upgrade might be appropriate to avoid crashes and get more of my physicality used up ... I mean, what's the point of bike racing if I'm not choking on my own mucous for 2 hours trying to keep up with a bunch of actual athletes?

Birthday: 26

Started with a house show



Led to vegan gnocchi


In a modern kitchen




With a surprise award winning resurgence.