Good bye, 6-foot-2

As promised, here's what my back looks like. The arrow is helpful, because it points to the vertebra that no longer looks like a marshmallow. Yeah ... there's a quarter-inch I've lost.

Anyway, the dark section on the bottom of that vertebra is a break, and if you look closely you can see a couple more. The better view is from the back, where you an see a pair of broken transverse processes -- but I don't have that one. Sorry.

Here's the plan for the next six weeks: wear the brace, sweat a lot. Pretty awesome, huh? Everything is still aligned and is beginning the healing process, so it's looking good. Just have to wait now.

Oh, very punny

So I'm back to work. And I'm back doing most everything, sort of. Sleep, for example, completely sucks. The last two nights have been pretty brutal. Can't really do household chores. Anything related with lifting Jack is out, though I can do other little things.

OK, so I'm not really back. But I'm going to the doctor for a follow-up appointment in a little bit. X-rays first, then the consultation. And then, back to work. The pain is pretty minimal, but the heat and uncomfortableness kinda sucks.

I may have mentioned that.

Anyway, tomorrow -- I promise -- you'll see the x-rays. I get a CD of the images today. It's gonna be great.

Don't worry, it's all water weight

I went back to work yesterday, one week after going all smashy-smashy to a vertebra. At no point did the pain slow me down, though I did lay down a couple of times to make sure it didn't get too nuts.

No, the main problem was the heat. It was hot as fook in the store yesterday. Combine that with activity and a foam/plastic turtle shell, and we're sweating, baby! I brought an extra shirt, just in case it did get a bit warm. Luckily, some shirts I ordered last week came in yesterday, too. Because I needed one of them to get through.

Three shirts. Yuck. And being hot is bad, but being wet and chafy and hot is way, way worse. So I'm going to pack up a few more shirts today and hope for cooler weather. We could really use a thunderstorm.

Uh oh -- time to go. It takes about twice as long to get going now.

Dealing with it

Chris and I have been in Omaha for a little more than five years now. It seems like an eternity since we left Waterloo, Iowa, in search of something new. We loved our house, our neighborhood and our friends. But we were stuck in jobs that weren't likely to change for the better anytime soon.

So we left. Like most people who leave a place after many years (I lived there for 9, counting school), we kept tabs on things.

Because of my former occupation -- high school sports writer -- this was a terrible blow when I read it yesterday morning. How could this happen? Why?

I interviewed Ed Thomas a dozen times, maybe more. Like everybody else, I'd heard the stories about his program and everything he did for the kids and the town.

I covered probably five for six Aplington-Parkersburg games (at least) in my time there. When I interviewed his players afterward, you could tell they'd been directed on how to handle themselves. It was apparent he cared not only about winning, but about crafting a well-rounded individual.

That theme has been echoed in all of the comments about him, in all of the stories flying around the internet. My former colleagues are now charged with writing those stories. I feel for them, for I know they felt the same way about him.

Ed Thomas was a good man. He was a constant. I'm going to miss him, even though I've been gone for five years.

It's gonna be a long month/two months/whatever

I'm not really sure how long I have to be in the turtle shell, but it can't end soon enough. Yes, I know I've had it for less than a week. But there are a few factors in play:

1. It's hot as hell outside. Pretty ridiculously hot, actually. And while we do have air conditioning, it's still hot inside a plastic-and-foam shell. I sweat just sitting still. Yuck.

2. When you have an itch in the middle of your back, you scratch it. I have to use alternate means. Like a wooden spoon.

3. I'm not in severe pain so much as severe discomfort. Nothing feels good. It's all a matter of what's less uncomfortable. I have a feeling this won't be going away any time soon.

4. Getting up in the morning is the worst. Sore muscles don't like being moved suddenly, even if I'm moving with the speed of a sea turtle. The drugs need to work faster.

I think that's it. I'm trying to get some work done today. It's going only OK, mostly because I need to move around every 15 minutes or so. Sweet.

This all seems familiar

It says a lot about the last two months when this morning's routine felt very ... well, routine. Get up -- slowly -- creep into the kitchen, down some pills, sit down, gather thoughts and strength.

And a few minutes later, when the drugs kick in (just ibuprofen today), the day begins. That was how things worked for a few weeks after the previous "really big crash." It may take longer this time, but I'm guessing that's how this one is going to go, too.

At the very least -- and this is me looking on the bright side -- I can still write. That didn't make me a ton of money, but it didn't hurt. So I'll be able to stay on schedule this week and keep the money coming in.

Oh, and here are some thoughts I collected while in the hospital. When you have large stretches of free time over four days, you think of things.

- I think the Felt might be cursed. Ever since I called it a POS, repeatedly, in late March/early April, it's been on the ground three times.

- Old people are pretty bitter ... about everything. I listened to one guy bitch and whine about his son-in-law for about an hour. I finally just closed the door.

- The health-care system may be overwhelmed. I know I'm not a high-priority case (young, healthy except for the broken back, etc.), but I had to wait a long time for assistance after hitting the call button.

- Hospital food gets a bad name (in some places). I ate some pretty good stuff. The coffee sucked, though.

- I have a pretty tolerant wife, though she might restrict me to bike rodeos from now on.

- I have no idea how I'm going to shave. I can't bend over, and I don't feel comfortable standing in the shower without the brace.

I think that's pretty much it. Coffee awaits.

The thanks I get

There's a Wilco song that starts with "Is that the thanks I get for lovin' you?"

After spending the last few days in the hospital -- I'm leaving sometime this morning -- that's kind of how I feel about cycling. The last two or three years have seen me spend a lot of money on racing, work my ass off and -- ultimately -- become a bike racer. We have water bottles all over the place, a box of GU in the cupboard and a pile of team kit in every load of laundry.

And after all of that, here I am with a broken spine and bottles of pain pills next to me. It's kind of funny that, after crashing on a hard corner and recognizing that I needed to work on that skill, I went out and crashed again while working on it.

Until I go back to work, which is hopefully later this week (Thursday or Friday, maybe?), I'm going to hang out, do some writing and not think about the bike. I haven't thought about my bike since the crash, really. I'm sure it's OK. It's always OK. But I don't care right now. I'll worry about it later.

I still love cycling. I'll still be a cyclist. But not now. I have bigger fish to fry.

Thanks for your notes of support and phone calls and visits. It's nice to have such great friends.

And then it ended, just like that

To say the 2009 season has been a mess is a bit of an understatement. Between the stresses of work and home life, let alone bike-related mishaps, things haven't gone according to plan by any stretch of the imagination.

But it's all over now. I'm in Methodist Hospital in Omaha. I crashed while working on cornering this morning (Thursday). I broke my L2 vertebra into many pieces, but there's no spinal cord injury.

I'm lucky. Very lucky.

It went like this: I chose the wrong line (really wrong) on a high-speed corner and aimed for the grass to ditch it. And that worked, at first. But there was a fairly large gash in the terrain, like from a tractor. It swallowed my front wheel and sent me straight over the bars. I landed on my butt, basically, and the impact shattered that vertebra.

I got home with the assistance of an Omaha parks and grounds guy named Bill, who gave me a ride in his truck. I managed to get out of the kit and get some ice on my back, but I definitely needed to go to the hospital. Chris took me around lunchtime, and I've been here since.

And I'm going to be here for a few days (room 534 if you feel like stopping in with a new spine, by the way). I'm going to end up with an upper-body brace, which will immobilize the spine. Should something change, surgery would be in order.

Very clearly, bike racing takes a backseat right now. Not that I could do anything anyway ... .

So after I get well, and after I'm allowed to get on the bike, I'm pretty much done with crits. It's just not worth it anymore.

Friday morning update: I slept only OK last night, which is pretty understandable. The pain is localized right on that vertebra, which is good. I get a body brace today that will let me stand up and walk around. Should all go well with that, no surgery will be needed, which is really, really good. Back surgery isn't really an avenue I want to go down.

Gam Jams Review: Gruppo (by Frankenbike)

After selling bikes for a few months now -- and also getting an eyeful of some of the stuff that rolls through the door -- I came to realize my bike wasn't really unique anymore. And by that I mean the mismatched gruppo.

Very, very few bikes come with a matching full gruppo to begin with. In fact, I can think of two in the entire store. (Both Madones with Ultegra SL.)

I started with an Ultegra crank and rear derailleur, along with 105 shifters, cassette and front derailleur. I still have the crank and cassette, but the rear derailleur is dead (tragic hanger mishap) and the shifters and front derailleur are on the bench in the garage. Oh, and the original Tektro brakes are gone, too.

In their place: SRAM Force shifters/derailleurs and Ultegra SL brakes. Yes, along with the Ultegra crank. It's not really the best looking machine in the world. I could probably spruce it up with an Ultegra SL or a Force crank, but it's hard to beat what works.

The next bike -- whatever that may be -- will likely have a full matching group. Mostly because, as a shop employee, I'll be able to get it all at once. New Ultegra is running neck-and-neck with Force. Time to start dreaming.

Eh, nevermind

Too much stuff going on today. I'm home with Jack, who is a monkey. And now that he's sleeping, it's time to work. I'll be back tomorrow with reflections on the Wednesday night ride.

Daily affirmation

Despite the hundreds of hours and thousands of miles I've spent on the bike this year, I still have doubts from time to time.

It could be the crashing, or it could be the fatigue from racing during build weeks. Or it could be the stress of working a lot ... whatever. Point is, it feels like I've hit a wall sometimes.

Yesterday morning, since I didn't have to work until noon, I rolled out with Mod and Lucas in search of dry ground. And hills. Plenty of hills. Lucas, who is a beast, was riding strong. We ended up together on the climbs, pushing each other toward the top. It felt good, though draining, to drill it up those hills. I'm fast after all. And so is Lucas, though there weren't any doubts with him.

It felt especially nice when we were done, since rest week rules are now in effect. I even left my bike at the shop. I'll take today off, ride easy tomorrow night, take Thursday off and probably spin to work on Friday.

And next week starts the last phase before the A-race peak. Go go go!

Like every other TT, except slow

The great Nebraska State Time Trial was Saturday. At 23.something miles, on a hilly(ish) course, it would prove to be a good test of fitness. Well, for some people at least.

Yes, I did go about a minute faster than last year. That's nice. But I kinda rode like crap. OK, I really rode like crap. I had 57:37 on my clock, which works out to an average of 24.1 mph. Not bad.

But then I started reading the times turned in the rest of the morning. Wow.

I wouldn't have been in the top eight in the frickin' Cat. 4 race. I wouldn't have won Cat. 5, even. I'm a Cat. 3 -- apparently, a slow one.

After talking with Sydney a bit on Saturday night, along with looking at my training plan and history on that course, I can see what happened. The first time I put the bars on (since last July) was late Thursday night. Only one ride on them prior to the race.

Also, I'm at the end of a hard two weeks (rest week starts today). So I'm not exactly rested, either.

But still ... I have to be faster than that, don't I?

I'll find out in a month or so, when the main peak for the year is here. Omaha Cycling weekend: TT, crit, RR. The only thing I dread is the crit, but not because of the corners. It's another 1/2/3 crit, which I'm souring on. And it's a tight course. And it's going to be fast as fook.

I guess this is what I signed up for, huh?

All over but the shouting (and pain)

So I'm pretty much ready to roll for the state TT tomorrow. The position is as dialed as it can be. I'm not so aero, though I tried something new this morning (no, not radically new) and it seemed to work.

And that's pretty much it. There's not time for more exciting things around Algomaha these days. Work, eat, work, sleep, work, ride (sometimes), etc.

I'm gonna try to stop whining now. Stay safe this weekend.

Gam Jams Review: Miracle road rash cures

Funny topic this week, no?

At the risk of jinxing myself and everybody around me, I'm completely road rash-free for the first time in about three months. It's considerably less itchy, by the way.

Getting rid of it all involved a lot of gauze pads and a lot of antibiotic ointment. There was some Tegaderm at some point as well. For me, the key is always keeping everything covered and medicated the first few days. After that, it's probably going to heal up fairly quickly.

Well, unless you rip everything open again when you hit a trail pole.

Saturday: Hey, it's the state TT. Aero bars ... still not attached. Wheels ... cassette-less. I'll get there eventually. Probably tonight. I'm fairly certain I know where my TT helmet is, too. Sweet!

Wednesdays with Jack

Chris has had a few conferences and planning sessions this summer, meaning Jack goes to daycare or stays home with me. I've been taking more and more projects lately to make sure we can do things like eat, or have a house.

And since I don't work at the Trek Store on Wednesdays, I usually plan on a lot of writing throughout the day. But today, Jack is home with me. I've been up since 5 writing, and I got a lot of stuff done. But today Jack is home with me. We've had waffles, read two books and played on the couch. And it's not even 9 yet.

I'm kind of hoping he takes about a three-hour nap later, because I'm going to be waaaay behind if he keeps up his current pace. That basically means I'll clean up and work after the shop ride tonight, and follow it up with more work in the morning.

It seems like a lot of time spent on the computer, but it's worth it. You know, because sooner or later I'm going to need to eat.

There is nothing to report

Didn't ride yesterday. Despite my best intentions, I didn't ride today. Bleh. I'm just not feeling it right now. Could be the weather, could be the schedule I'm attempting to keep. Could be the embarrassing performance in Norfolk over the weekend.

I have no idea.

Point is, I didn't ride. And I don't care that I didn't ride. It'll be fine.

The ending came first

By and large, I'm a positive person. Despite the money troubles at our house, I'm convinced it's going to work out. And it's going to be great. We'll be better off in the long run, but it might be sticky for a while here.

But it's going to work.

I wish I could apply the same thinking to racing. Though Saturday's race was cold, wet and long, I was fine the whole time. Sure, I missed the break, but I was in the (non)chase pack. I attacked a few times, though none actually worked. Anyway, I was comfortable.

But when Sunday dawned gray, cold and wet, it was over. An eight-turn crit on very smooth asphalt? With Cat. 1/2/3 guys? In the rain?

Nope. I checked out mentally pretty early. JP called me on it. He's right. Despite outwardly declaring my intention to stay on the pack and hold on, I was off the back almost instantly.

Attitude was problem number one -- a bad attitude is like poison. Until I had to step on the gas in about the third lap, I was out for a cruise. There was no urgency whatsoever. Wake up! It's a race! No alarm bells, no nothing.

And when it came time to act -- as in, go fast -- I didn't do anything. And that was it.

I ended up in 20somethingth place. I averaged 23.2 mph along with another guy who was similarly off the back. His excuse was not racing or training with much intensity. And that's perfectly reasonable.

So what's my excuse?

Hello, pack-fill

14th in a wet, windy, chilly road race today. I finished in a pack sprint out of the main peloton. Seven guys were up the road in various configurations.

Threw down some OK attacks, all of which were pulled back. My first one was merely to get warmed up. I was freezing.

Some disappointment about guys getting away up the road, but at the time I was in no condition to do anything about it.

With about 2K to go, I attacked in an attempt to catch people napping. That didn't work, but it did set up the finishing sprint fireworks. The pack rushed past and I struggled to hold onto wheels. There were probably four or five guys behind me in the chase-group sprint.

Good showing from the Kaos Cat. 4 guys, though. Fenster won, Protaskey fourth, Lambie fifth. That'll do.

More tomorrow after the crit.

Rhythm of racing

It's the Friday of race week. You know what that means, right? Round up the wheels, the bottles, the GU, the clothing, the tools, the trainer ... there's a lot of stuff to bring.

And later this morning I'll head out on the Felt, in full race trim (17.12 pounds, by the way), and get an easy spin in. After that, I'll make the list of all of the things that need to go to Norfolk this weekend.

I had a good week of training. Monday was nasty hills, Tuesday was off. Wednesday was a nasty shop ride, Thursday was a steady two hours. Technically, I'm training through this weekend (and the state TT next weekend), but I'm looking forward to racing. And, in an even better development, I'm excited about the crit. I love that course, and I've had good racing (if not results) there.

And then it's the state TT, which means I need to find my TT helmet. It's around here somewhere. Same with the aero bars.

If all goes well, maybe I'll come back a few bucks ahead. At the very least, it'll be a lot of fun. Painful, agonizing fun.

Gam Jams Review: The next upgrades ... wheels?

This weeks' GamJams review (you can find others from the Ambassadors with the widget to the right) was a tricky one for me, despite having immediate access to all sorts of things I could use to upgrade my ride.

That's because, short of a new bike, there's not much more for me to upgrade. Through the miracle of crashing, I've managed to get a fair amount of new stuff. Here's the rundown:

Fork -- now Reynolds with a carbon steerer
Shoes -- now Shimano R300s
Helmet -- now Giro Ionos

That's just from the crash. Earlier this year I swapped out my 105/Ultegra bits for a SRAM Force shifters/derailleurs setup. I kept the Ultegra crank, chain and cassette. The whole thing works great.

So the only thing left, really, would be wheels. And I was set for wheels, actually. I'm more than likely going to end up getting the new version of my current race wheels (wheel, actually). Obviously I can get a nice price on those and many others, but the Shimano Dura-Ace 7850SL set is really all I need. And I guess I could probably stand to get a new cassette sometime. The one I have now has about 25,000 miles on it. Maybe some new chainrings, too. Hmmm ...

And then there's the frame itself ...

Mommy versus Daddy

I don't work at the store on Wednesdays, which usually means I have all day to write, or work on other projects (or ride all day). Today, though, Chris is at school for a planning day, so I'm home with Jack.

Yesterday, Chris took him to the Omaha Children's Museum. A delightful time was had by all, as evidenced by Jack being a complete monster when I got home. There was much exhaustion, but not a lot of sleep. Apparently, he ran full-tilt for about three hours. Yikes.

So what does he get to do today with Daddy? Well, first we're going to hit the DMV, because I need to renew my license. I'm sure that will be a treat. Then we're going to go for a bike ride before lunch.

After that, man, who knows? Refinishing a deck? Maybe overhauling a hub? The possibilities are endless!

Filling in the gaps

One downside of very sudden unemployment is a very sudden drop in spending money. Our levels were pretty low to begin with -- Chris runs a tight ship! -- but it got worse this spring.

Unfortunately, I work in a place that very easily separates spending money from pockets. Yeah, I get good deals. But when you don't have a lot of money to begin with, good deals are a bit of a moot point. Still, it's tempting. Soooo tempting.

We have holes in monthy expenses, too. I get up early every morning and write, hoping to patch those holes with enough money to get us where we were before. You know, back when we thought we were poor, but were considerably well off by comparison.

A few days before my birthday, which was last week, I remarked to Chris how nice it would be to go to a restaurant -- an actual restaurant -- and sit down and order something. Even better, we could order whatever catches our eye, with no worries about price.

I think about that every morning when I get up, well before dawn, and start typing. We're getting there. But there are some days that have me wondering where "there" is, and what we're going to do when we arrive.

Hell on wheels

When I was in elementary school, I went to a babysitter every day before and after school. She lived right down the street -- her name was Margaret. There were a few others there who were my age as well. One of them was O.J. (who Algona people know all about).

On those days where I was at Margaret's all day, but didn't have school (like for inservices and stuff), O.J. and I went to Central Park, which was right out the back door. We climbed on things, we jumped off things. We did everything except use the equipment like it was supposed to be used.

O.J., my athletic superior since birth, liked to jump off the platform of the tornado slide and onto the supporting pole. From there, he'd slide to the ground. Yeah, that's about a 15-foot drop -- maybe even 20. I preferred doing the same, but from the lower reaches of the slide. Like the last curve. It was about five feet.

One day, after standing on the platform for about 10 minutes, with O.J. prodding me from below, I jumped. I made it. Everything was fine. But I was terrified the whole way.

And that's what Saturday's crit was like.

Despite my best intentions, I was rattled from the gun. The course featured the same turns as the Norfolk course, which is always fun. The surface, however, was very, very bad. Not broken or anything, but bumpy as hell. And that made sprinting, cornering and everything else a little scary. My wheels were skipping the whole time. Yikes. Hell, you can see the fear in my face in that picture.

I was OK through laps one and two, but then things got hot. Corners were railed, I got passed on the inside once ... abort! abort! abort! I was honestly ready to pack it in, find a nice, shady tree and have a good cry. It was a bit too much.

So I did what any terrified, crash-addled racer would do -- I went to the back of the pack, followed wheels and tried to relax. I got better, eventually. And while it may have looked like I was about to pop off the back entirely, I was fine physically. My HR was pegged for an hour, which is normal, but I felt OK in the legs.

I just didn't want to be in the middle of the pack.

I later tried for a couple of primes but got completely blasted in the sprint. And when "two laps to go" was announced, JV said he could almost see me shudder and fall back through the peloton.

I finished 14th of 15. And I wanted nothing to do with the last two laps. Everybody bunched up going into the first two turns -- at speed. I guess I wasn't quite ready for that yet. I knew with one lap left that I'd be near the end of the train. I was fine with it, too. No crashes, at least.

But no guts, either. Crit racing, by nature, is tight, risky business. By the end, it felt like I did little more than jump off the lower curve of the tornado slide. I kept it safe and easy, while everybody else was on the platform, waving for me to get on with it already.

Crits make up the bulk of racing in Nebraska. It's going to be a long summer if things don't change. Next week, when my toes are on the edge of the platform, I hope I have the courage to jump.