From Elite to the street...

I wanted to write, from Elite to Defeat, but that's not really true. First, let me show you a photo.
Step one: Build bike in garage like space in old strange building.


Step two: Ride bike where ever the wind may blow.



I felt it was important to show that even though I didn't go to Battenkill and spent over 100.00, I did in fact ride some dirt roads this past weekend, in the sunshine no less. So, next time you get a hankering for some serious rough roadage, spend the 100.00 in gas to get here, I'll make you dinner and we'll ride some serious dirt. Without all those yahoos getting flats and crashing all around you. It rules.

On cycling in general for a second. Tyler Hamilton. Are you kidding me? "I have a disappearing twin." "This is for Tugboat." "I suffer from depression." "I am not a cheater." That last may be inaccurate, but it fits the bill. Is this guy for real? I used to think Tyler was amazing. He was a New England hero, now I feel bad that he is lieing to himself so much. It's terrible.
What makes him think he is the only pro-cyclist that suffers from depression. This has got the be the most mentally damaging professional sport on the planet. Some days you are the best in the world and some days you can't even hold a wheel. It's taxing, to be kind. F that guy. And tell him to send the USA Pro jersey to the rightful owner.

Side note, The Italian Job is on. It's still a good movie.

Today...
Oh today.
Back to the idea that bike racing is a huge mental game.
I went on my first group ride of the year. Groups rides a terrible and wonderful thing all at the same time, though usually not on the same day. Today was one of the terrible days. My road mileage up this point in the year has been lean. As in skinny. As in, malnourished. You know what I'm getting at.
So out I go to "Tuesday Night Worlds" as its affectionately known. The weekly throw down where legs are tested and egos broken. It's between 2-2.5 hours. Off I go... riding at the front, getting the wind, rolling along. There's a 15 minute or so roll-out period where a temporary truce is called.
Across route 7 and things hot up in a hurry. Scurry. Furry bunny, money. Boom!

I fade to the back at this point, planning on watching the action. But let's be honest... How many times have you heard me say something along the lines of "I think I'm just going to sit in today..." Then 5 minutes into the race I'm off the front and charging... I can't help it. Some might say I race wrecklessly. I like to think of it as passionately. Sitting in and finishing in the field just doesn't do it for me. Never has.
So, I tailgun for about 4 minutes, then I'm sliding towards the front, and it's my turn to pull through. Race instinct kicks in as we approach the first town line sprint. "I'm not pulling." So i pull off with the guy in front of me. Turns out this is not welcome in the ride, so I attack up the yellow line.
Nothing tops a true "SahnGermain" attack through the feed zone, but the yellow line attack is a close second. Especially when everyone is looking right.
To my chagrin, I gap them. I'm in the 50x11 stomping on it. And there's a gap. I think I might make it. This sensation fades quickly as the roaring boil of blood in my quads takes over. I'm overtaken with 200 meters to go.
The rest of the ride shapes up like this. I sit in, then attack with abandon at random spots. I am able to latch on each time.

The return part of the ride, back towards town, is hilly. We hit the first climb and I am dropped like a rusty muffler.
Dam.
At the top of the climb I pick my tongue up off the group, blink the bloody tears from my eyes, and head for home. Implosion. Explosion. Corrosion. It was rough.

I limp back to town, boil some pasta, shower and land on the couch. It sure was good.

The first hard is always the hardest, most painful, most embarrassing, and after that, it only gets better. Sweet. I think the "How many days can you ride challenge 2009" Will begin May 3rd. So... brace yourself. Come hell or high water, it's ride time.

Oh, the Circle A is pure elegance in motion. Art in motion. Notion. Magic potion. There were 10 guys on the ride. 1 had seen the bike before. 5 others asked me what it was and where it came from. That's 60% interest rate. Imagine if credit cards were that high. Oof.

See you on the trails soon.

Things to come to VT for this summer.
200 on 100.
90 mile Epic singletrack ride.
10% alcohol beers on tap (WHAT?!)
Ali and myself.