The back-up plan

About a third of the way up the last hill of the night — big-ring hill — on Wednesday, the progression of sounds that came from my rear shifter went as follows: click, click, crunch.

The shift paddle — that little squarish-looking guy here — was no longer ratcheting to pull cable. It was just crunching. Oh, and releasing cable, too. Which means as I was fiddling with it, I was shifting to a harder gear on the back.

Luckily, we were just a few miles from the shop, so I threw it into the big ring and rode it out.

It's kind of funny how my thought progression went as I realized the problem:

"Oh, crap — broken shifter. Eh, it's under warranty. What will I ride, though? I'll just throw my road wheels and crank on the Cronus CX and get on with it."

A few years ago, the progression would not have been so quick. It would have ended up in full-on panic mode. I'm lucky to be able to (mostly) avoid such situations these days.

As it happens, I now have pretty much the same bike as Mark's "pro-build" Cronus CX, except mine has better wheels and pedals. (And I prefer clear frame protectors over finishing tape. Good frame protectors — like the ones that come with 6-Series Madones — will do what finishing tape does.) Everything else, though? Pretty much the same.

Though I really, really like my Madone (it's bordering on love ... maybe), I have to admit I'm pretty psyched about spending the next week or so on the Cronus. Maybe it's because it's a kick-ass bike, but more likely it's because riding different (awesome) bikes is exciting and fun and all of that.

In the meantime, there's a new shifter en route — I'll be here Monday or Tuesday, probably, because SRAM tech support is very, very good. For now, I'll enjoy the ride.

Getting up to speed

Near the end of a ride with Brady about a month ago, we started talking about various fitness levels and racing goals and stuff like that. He told of his experience getting his TT bike fitted — the fitter told it would probably be a couple of years before he really got good at cycling.

I remember hearing something similar when I started running again — that it would take a while to build things up. But once I got enough miles in, I'd be off to the races. And I was, really. I started running again in late 2001 and by 2003/04 I was really fast.

The same goes for my switch to cycling. We started in earnest in 2005, rode a lot in 2006 and I started having real success in 2008.

After batting these things back and forth, Brady dropped this on me: "Don't you think that's the same as breaking your back? It takes a while to come back after something like that."

Huh.

At the time — a month ago — I felt like I was on the verge of a breakthrough. I was riding stronger and harder than I had in a couple of years, but I still wasn't there. I was not quite fast enough to be in the lead group on Wednesday nights, but well ahead of the second group.

It finally clicked earlier this month — a little more than two years after I got hurt. The last two Wednesdays have been my best since probably early 2009. I raced pretty well in the Omaha races. Even though my back is sore from swimming, running and two days of driving across Iowa, it's not a big deal.

I'm thinking less about "don't get dropped" and more about "how can I take a dig?" And when a move goes, I've been able to cover it and sometimes counter it. I'm not the fastest guy there — I never was and never will be — but I'm in the game. I'm mixing it up. Finally.

I'm back.

No, I'm not doing RAGBRAI

Yes, I've done RAGBRAI before. Yes, it was fun.

But no, I'm not going it this year. Why?

1. I don't have time. I would have ideally ridden from home to Glenwood to Atlantic on the first day. And maybe even ridden back, too. But the rest of the week? Lots of writing projects in the work.

2. I don't have the money. We're tight right now, really tight. The pile of car seats and strollers next to me may be involved in that somehow. Babies, man. Babies.

3. Most times, I have a ton of patience with new or newer or less-skilled riders. Right now, I don't. I feel like I've spent a good portion of the summer trying to stay away from sketch-balls on Wednesday nights. No more swerving, please.

4. I really dislike Miller Lite, which is the official fluid of RAGBRAI.

5. I'm getting to be a cranky old man, which is reason enough to stay inside and away from the public.

Now please stop asking. I'm begging you, Omaha.

The body says no

Until this weekend, I hadn't been swimming in about ... oh, 10 years or so. It's not that I can't swim — I can — I just don't like it, and I never really have. Sure, I spent half of my summers at the pool like every other Algona kid, but that was a social exercise more than anything else.

After spending about 45 minutes in the pool on Friday, I can confirm that I still don't like swimming. But it's for a new reason: It hurts my back. A lot.

We headed to the Waterloo/Cedar Falls (Iowa) area this weekend for Chris' brother's wedding. We had a motel pool at our disposal, so after a long day of travel and rehearsal and dinner, we hit the water. It wasn't a big pool, by any means, but it was long enough to swim a couple of laps without smacking into anyone.

By the end of the first lap, my back felt funny. After the second ... ow. And unlike when cycling makes my back sore — when it's all muscles — this felt like my spine was completely out of whack. It popped pretty good later, which helped a bit. But still ... ow.

And on Saturday it was the all-day rush of photos and wedding and reception and the endless spans of sitting around doing nothing in between. Ow.

On Sunday I fell out of bed, laced up my shoes and went running with my old pals from Cedar Falls. A lot of them are in their early 50s by now, and I wondered if this would be the time I showed up ready to run to find them all switched over to cycling. Three of them were running, but one caught up with us halfway through the route — on his bike.

I haven't run since Christmas break (the day after the whiskey-and-little-smokies meal), so at about the four-mile mark, I was ready to steal that bike. I ended up just fine, but took my time stretching at the end of the run — about 5.5 miles.

After a bit of luggage ... uh, lugging ... and four more hours in the car, my back is toast — to say nothing of my hamstrings and calves. I'll get moving and out on the bike (the CX bike, maybe?) here in a little bit.

I'm still trying to figure out how I'm going to spend August cycling-wise. I'd like to do another crit or two, but I'm conscious of the work needed to be at least semi-respectable for 'cross. Hell, doing another couple of crits will probably be pretty helpful. We'll see — like always.

Great timing

By and large, I felt pretty solid during the Omaha Cycling Weekend races. I rode a good TT, was moderately helpful during the crit and went up the road a couple of times in the road race.

Not too bad, really.

It was hot when we rolled out for Wednesday Night Worlds last night. Really hot. My computer said 100 as we rolled out. But it really wasn't that bad - only once did I really feel like I was melting. The rest of the time was smooth and steady and fast.

And, somehow, I felt even stronger than I did over the weekend.

I attacked on a long hill, for some reason. And then I did it again. Even more surprising, it actually worked. And I felt good immediately after each one.

I almost wish I had another race on the schedule for this weekend. I get the feeling last weekend's racing actually sharpened me up a bit more. I feel even more prepared now than I did two weeks ago.

It kind of makes me wonder how things would have turned out had I felt this solid last weekend.

It's academic, of course, because we're well past all of that. But if the key is riding very hard for a few days, then resting again, then riding hard again - I'll remember that for future endeavors.

Two months in the making: A half-assed CX season

You may have heard chatter here and there about what may or may not be coming down the pipeline. Hell, you may have even read this blog previously, which pretty much laid bare all of my intentions. But the deals are done, the product has been selected and delivered ... uh, laundered ... I guess. I can now fully introduce the Algomaha CX Team.

I gotta say, I'm pretty pumped about this opportunity. I put a very small amount of work into it and I may or may not be up for the challenge. My cycling gear collection has stepped up big time to allow me to compete against average-to-above-average racers all over the eastern Nebraska region.

Not only will you see a fully equipped 'cross racer out there, you'll see ... well, that's about all you'll see. I'm not showing you or telling you about anything, unlike other programs. I've been psyched on 'cross for literally 35 minutes now, and I'm lukewarm about rolling this whole thing out.

Here's what I'll be running:

Trek Cronus CX - I wrote a lot of tiny product reviews to get ahold of this beauty
SRAM drivetrain - Because that's what came on the bike
Avid brakes - Because they also came on the bike
Bontrager wheels and tires - Again, it came on the bike
Capo apparel - Because I have a bunch of team clothing already
My closet, for off-bike apparel and run equipment (*snicker*. I love it when 'cross racers talk about dreading the running bits. Please. It's 100 feet. Sack up.)
Lazer Genesis helmet - Because I have it carved to perfection

I have a pair of personal sponsors as well:

Shimano shoes - Because Sidi shoes fit funny (on my feet, but I'm not exactly normal)
Oakley - Because I got a pretty sweet pro deal two years ago

I'll bringing you updates via this blog, Twitter and probably Facebook, though FB is more of a pain in my ass than it needs to be. I'm still firming up my race schedule, which means I need to look up the race schedule and then hire and train superstar sales people to take my place while I'm gone.

Additionally, I'll need to come up with funds for such an endeavor. I'm very good at editing or writing copy (this document notwithstanding because I am MODERATELY PUMPED to be doing this. I'm good at cooking and lawn-mowing, and if you need a cute kid for anything, I have one for rent.

I'm sure there's some 'cross weekend that's only a handful of weeks away ... maybe. I don't know. I'm gonna go ahead and start figuring out how to make my brakes not sound like heralding trumpets when they hit the rims.

Welcome to the show!

Food amnesty day

There's a big bowl of granola cereal waiting for me after I finish this post.

And for supper I'm making lasagna — heavy, cheesy lasagna, with sausage — and I'll have a beer ... or maybe two.

With the Omaha Cycling Weekend come and gone, I'm looking forward to just climbing on the bike, riding around and eating whatever gets in my way. For example: I rode on the CX bike for a bit earlier this morning. It was nice.

Though I spent part of the winter and spring trying to take off a few pounds and further lean things up, I've spent most of the last two months at pretty much the same weight as I've always been: between 160 and 165.

At my lightest, I got down to 155, but it was only for a few days. That was too light. Heading into the heart of the race season — mid-May or so, I was back up to 160. And I've been there since.

Instead of cutting calories, I just went back to the basics: aiming for low-fat, non-greasy foods. That approach has done me well for a few years now.

But on Food Amnesty Day (yes, it's capitalized at this point), I will eat whatever gets in my way. It'll be great.

Tomorrow, yeah — back to basics. I'm sure Wednesday Night Worlds will feel like death on two wheels, because it always feels that way. But the rest of the week will still just be riding around.

And then I'll have to select the next target. The Corporate Cycling Championship is coming up soon!

A long time coming

Bike racing — if you do it right — really, really hurts. It's how you manage the hurt and how fast you can go while making it hurt that determines your success. On the best days, you can dig deeper than you'd otherwise believe. When you're done, you feel the deepest kind of satisfaction.

It's been a long time since I felt that way. I almost forgot what it was like.

Coming into the Omaha Cycling Weekend, I was most concerned with being able to bounce back between races. Temperatures and humidity were both ridiculous, making recovery even more important than normal. In short, I drank a lot of Gatorade. So much Gatorade that I don't want to write any more about it. But it made a huge, huge difference.

The weekend started with the Elkhorn Time Trial (photo by Dan Farnham, by the way). The roads northwest of my house are familiar and friendly, so the revamped course was nothing new for me. But the terrain and wind were ideal for both getting a fast start and then bringing it home at the end.

I got off to a solid, easy start with the intention of pouring it on in the final half. For as infrequently as I ride my TT bike, I'm always comfortable on it. The position is just right for me and my cranky back. I settled in as the course rolled on and caught my 30-second man just over halfway through.

I was the final Cat. 3 starter and the really fast guys were up ahead a bit. I really had no idea how fast I was going compared to everybody else. I just kept everything in check as long as I could.

Up the big hill near the end, I hit a comfortable gear and spun my way up. As soon as the road eased, I threw it back into the big ring and cranked it up. With about a mile to go, I saw Lee Bumgarner of Flatwater Cycling turn onto the course from the left and head down the homestretch. My initial thought: "Damn! He's already cooling down? Wow!"

I crossed the line pretty satisfied with my ride. Only one of the Cat. 1/2 guys caught me, and he didn't do it until about 100 meters from the end. Really, I was just hoping to be in the money, which went six deep.

When the results were posted, I was ... wait ... second? That can't be right. Second? Huh? As it turns out, Brady won, Jonathan Wait (another teammate) was second and I was actually third. Lee, who I thought was cooling down, actually was coming back onto the course after taking a wrong turn. Ultimately I would have been fourth, but that's not how things played out.

Third in the TT. A good start to the weekend.

When I got home, I cleaned up, ate more, drank lots more and remained very still in the dark, cold basement. It was every bit as awesome as it sounds.

Later that afternoon, we packed up the car ... again ... and headed down to the Papillion Twilight Criterium (photo by Chris). It was hot. Just stupid, stupid hot. I felt like I was drinking constantly before the race, but it was pretty much required to stay alive.

When I was preriding the course, I was struck by how tight the corners were. I hadn't ridden there since 2008, when I had a nice day in the Cat. 4 race. I didn't remember the streets being that narrow. But after a few laps, I felt comfortable again and was ready to roll.

We had seven guys in the race, so the goal was to win it, of course. I got off to a decent start, strung stuff out and just tried to stay near the front in order to be helpful later. A few moves went, a few came back and then a few more took off. After Brady and Ryan got into the break, Matt, Jonathan and I settled into the chase group and tried to hold a few guys off.

After a preme lap, things got all split up again and I got separated from the chase. I ended up finishing on my own, mindful to keep the tempo as high as I could so nobody who got dropped earlier would come back up to me. I ended up 11th, which is ... meh.

It was a hard night. Trying to accelerate felt like riding a bike in a swimming pool. Those who had the snap to make things happened deserved the good results that followed.

Afterward, as I headed to the tent to get some water, I got a little light-headed and paused for a minute or two. Pretty quickly I felt like I had about 15 EMTs hovering around me. They must have been bored, because I told them I'd be fine in a few minutes — and I was. I know I looked bad and I appreciated the concern, but it wasn't that bad.

I drank lots (and lots and lots and lots) and hung around for the Pro/1/2 race, helped fold up the tents and headed home. I finally felt like eating — really eating — at about 10:30. I got in bed around midnight and fell into a nice, fitful sleep. Great.

What better way to top off a weekend than with a 70-some-mile race with temperatures in the 90s and all but zero shade on the course? The Dave Babcook Memorial Road Race rolled out around 10 a.m. using mostly the same roads as the time trial the day before.

We — and by 'we' I mean all of the racers — were fortunate to have tremendous support from the race organization for neutral water bottles. After the first four laps or so, I took a bottle every time up and dumped it on my head. Our team especially benefited from Mike Munson and Kevin Gilinsky doing hand-ups the whole race. Their support was huge, and I know I wouldn't have finished — let alone ridden well — without them.

To be honest, I was hoping merely for survival. But I felt pretty good considering what I went through the day before. On the second or third lap, Marc Walter rolled away and Lou Waugaman chased. They stayed out there for a lap or two.

Then Justin Maresh and Lee rolled off on maybe lap five or so. I thought briefly about jumping on that train, but I figured that was a one-way ticket to ... well ... death, possibly. So I watched it roll off and didn't worry too much about it.

On the next lap, on the tailwind part, I happened to be near the front of the bunch when Chris Spence said, "Go for it. I won't chase you." Then Ryan said, "I'll give you $500 if you go chase down Justin and Lee." $500? Really? "OK, $100. I can do $100 today."

Hey, $100 is a lot of money. Plus, they might actually let me go. So I went. I didn't stand up and drill it so much as pull away slowly. I made it up and over the hill (which was tough, but not as bad as everybody made it out to be) and got rolling again. After about a half lap, Brady and Ian Robertson brought the bunch back up to me.

"What are you doing up here?" they both asked. Ummm ... trying to get away. Didn't you see me go? They didn't. So I sat in and had a drink and a gel and enjoyed the ride.

A few minutes after this picture was taken (by Dan Farnham, again), we were back on the little tailwind part. Said Spence: "I tried to let you go, man. Go with Kyle this time."

So rolled up to Kyle and said, "Let's do something silly." We rolled off the front again, but a little faster than the time before. Near the top of the hill, a group of 1/2 riders and a couple of 3s came up to us. The 1/2 group punched it when we turned the corner, leaving the 3s alone.

I was content to let them go because, well, that move didn't concern me. Lee was still the only 3 up the road and there were four or five more right alongside me. But on the cross-headwind part, Mark Merritt (Joyride) attacked hard to try to get back up to the 1/2 bunch. I covered it and pulled Brady and the others up, but couldn't hold on. I popped a few seconds later and watched them roll off.

There were now four money positions up the road and the shelled remains of the field behind me. I worked with Kyle and Ben Dilley (Team Type I) for a lap before Kyle rode off on the hill. After that, I was Ben and I, with me spending most of the time on the front.

For the last lap and a half, we could see a few guys ahead of us, but they weren't close enough for us to say, "Let's go for it." It was more like, "Well, if we get closer, we'll do it. But let's just aim for not dying out here."

Up the final hill, I pulled away from Ben to take sixth. And then I promptly sat down in the shade, asked my teammates to cover me in ice and then stayed very still. About 20 minutes later, I felt much better, climbed on the bike and rolled back to the starting line with Sydney.

Way up on the first paragraph of this post (thanks for getting down this far, by the way), I mentioned how rewarding it felt to be able to dig deep and ride as hard as you could. Would I have been able to hold after that attack had I not gone off the front twice? Maybe. But I had to try.

Even more importantly, I felt like I could make it work. I felt good. I haven't been able to say that for so long.

Today, I feel a little less than good, as is to be expected. My back is a little sore and I'm starting to get hungry every 30 minutes or so. I'll take the week pretty easy and then figure out what comes next. There are a few crits and road races in August that could be interesting, but we'll have to see how things are money-wise when they come up.

Thanks again to the promoters and volunteers, and of course to my teammates. And also to Chris and Jack, who encourage and support me far more than I often deserve.

Sweat locker

I've had the upcoming Omaha weekend circled on the calendar for a while now. How long? Oh, two years or so.

2009: Broken spine
2010: Softball-sized welt on my hip/lack of any fitness whatsoever

So yeah. I've been thinking about this one for some time.

But while in past years I worried about fitness and strategy and stuff like that, right now I'm most worried about the weather. And not so much the weather - it's hot, big deal. It's summer. I'm worried about recovery from the weather.

As in, after that 15-mile TT tomorrow morning, get inside, get cooled off and rehydrate. And don't move a muscle the rest of the afternoon. And after that 50-minute crit (likely temperature: 95 degrees), get cooled off and rehydrate again.

And drink and drink and drink. Repeat as needed. Because there's 70-some miles on the road on tap for Sunday.

Racing in the hot is one thing, but racing multiple times in 28 hours or so presents a different challenge. I feel like I'm up to it, fitness-wise.

I hope I'm up to it hydration- and electrolyte-wise.

Expiration date

So I got a new phone last night. I had to lean harder on US Cellular than necessary, but I got what I needed (wanted?) and have emerged from the communications blackout.

I ended up with an HTC Desire. It checked two boxes: handles email (especially Gmail, obviously) and social media well, and it also seemed least likely to piss me off.

That second one is every bit as important as the first.

Being reasonably technologically capable, it only took a portion of the evening to get things straight. The phone runs Android, which is pretty clearly a take on Apple's iOS. Having owned an iPod Touch since 2008, I've been around the block a few times as far as touchscreen operating systems are concerned.

There are little differences, of course, but it's pretty intuitive and slick and all of that.

For people of my generation - and those afterward, obviously - grabbing on to new technology is generally pretty easy. We grew up with computers in schools and were among the first to migrate to mobile phone and computer technology.

And though I figured it out pretty quickly, I have to wonder how long that will last. Will my generation hit a certain age and suddenly be no longer able to cope with new technology? Will the phone of 2030 completely flummox me, much as my current phone would completely blow my mom's mind?

Or is my generation immune from such things? Since we got on board early, will we always be able to handle what comes our way?

It's an interesting question. I'd like to think I'll be able to keep current as I hurtle onward. If nothing else, I hope I can avoid eye-rolling from Jack and Stegosaurus when something new gets unboxed.

Ground Control to Major Tom

When the US space program was in full-flight in the 1960s, the country was absorbed by the thrill and fantasy of space exploration. You know, final frontier and all of that?

Though excitement was the standard response, there were plenty of grim thoughts floating around, too. What happens if they get stuck up there? They'll be doomed to orbit in icy silence — a perpetual satellite commemorating a worst-case scenario. They'll transmit signals until batteries fail and then ... silence.

David Bowie's "Space Oddity" — released on the eve of the 1969 moon landing — made note of that possibility:

"Ground Control to Major Tom
your circuit's dead, there's something wrong.
Can you hear me, Major Tom?
Can you hear me, Major Tom?
Can you hear me, Major Tom?
Can you hear?"

Yesterday, my phone started sending out distress signals of its own. I was using the web browser and it quite suddenly flashed white and then tried to reboot — over and over. It ended up in a death spiral of sorts, trying and trying to right itself.

And then it just stopped.

It's never been dropped (from too high, at least), never been wet. Just normal, everyday use. Unlike a lot of claims we get at the store of "just riding around," this phone doesn't have the electronic equivalent of trashed wheels and a bent frame. It just stopped working.

I took it to US Cellular, where the technicians poked and prodded and determined it was a lost cause. It wouldn't accept the new system software install. Instead, it just sat there — transmitting until the battery wore down.

We're out of warranty for the device itself. We're two weeks away from the "early upgrade" period, which would be good if we wanted to sign a new two-year contract. And given the problems within Research In Motion (BlackBerry's parent company) — and the sudden, stupid failure of this phone — I don't want another one. Android doesn't interest me even a little bit.

So today's task, while being surrounded in a technological semi-blackout, is figuring out what comes next. I have a six-year-old flip phone that can be resurrected, which may be the only option. We don't have the money to buy out the contract and go elsewhere. Though we'd both love iPhones, we don't have the money to get them even if we could get out of the contract. And then there's the monthly issue of a more expensive contract.

In short, things are tight. That happens sometimes. It would be good if it didn't happen all at once, though.

Heat index

It was a hot one Saturday in Clear Lake, Iowa. 90-something degrees, humid and some lakefront wind. Pretty much perfect crit weather, really. Or not.

I lined up for the Bikes, Blues and BBQ Criterium at 5:05 pm amid a field of 40 Cat. 3 riders. The course had eight turns, a tiny little kicker hill and well not-so-well-placed ruts and bumps. And by "not-so-well-placed" I mean "right in the middle of the perfect line around a couple of the corners." There were lots of flats out there, which again made me thankful for road tubeless. I was running them around 85psi — it felt like I had Velcro on my wheels in the corners.

My goal for the race was to rehearse the things I'll need to do this weekend at the Papillion Twilight Criterium. Those things included getting a good start, staying near the front and avoiding getting caught out because of gaps or cornering miscues.

It was a big group at the start — 39. I think that's the biggest race I've been in over the last couple of years. That's pretty sad, in a way. After the whistle blew, I jumped off the line and stayed in the top five or 10 for the first lap. Things got strung out pretty quickly after that.

The picture above has to be from the second or third lap, just after going through the start/finish line. The Flatwater guy on the left pretty much butchered turn two (go in slow and shallow, come out faster and wider) and reinforced my desire to get up front and stay up front. The speed and the course were going to split the group soon, and I didn't want to be on the receiving end of that. So I moved up. (Yes, I realize I haven't always been the best example of proper technique, but that was pretty brutal.)

In most Cat. 3 (and better) races, you'll have a few moves, the group will respond, you'll have a few more moves and then a few guys will ride away. I tried to stay attentive to that, hoping I'd be able to make that split. For some reason, that split never happened. Three good-sized teams had guys up the road and never seemed happy with the mix up front. Or maybe all of their teammates wanted in on the action, too.

Whatever it was, instead of the attack/respond/chill pattern you see in normal crits, it was full gas the entire way. On a course with a lot of turns and in 90-some-degree heat, we averaged 25mph for 55 minutes. Full gas.


With about 10 laps to go, I was on the ropes. My heart rate was pegged from the start (saw a new max HR), the heat was getting to me and my back was screaming. At one point, I felt all tingly. That wasn't much fun. I dumped most of my water bottle on my head and tried to snap out of it.

As we got down within the last five laps, I was trying to hold on to a position in the top 10 or 15. I was picking up places in a couple of the corners, so I figured if I could stay close, I'd be able to move up without too much difficulty.

The last few surges with two laps to go hurt me pretty badly, and I was at that point just trying to hold on to the lead group. With the pace up just a little bit, the corners that worked to my advantage were now being hit hard, single-file, with no opportunities to jump up a few spots.

On turn three of the bell lap — a nice, easy, high-speed right — someone struck a pedal and ate it hard right in front of me. I tapped the brakes for a second and then had to sprint out of it to catch back on. On the slight uphill that led to the little kicker, I got past a few guys. Another blew on the kicker, and one more blew within the last three blocks.

I crossed the line 15th. They paid out through the first 14 places. Damn.

It was a hard, hard race. It took a good 30 minutes to get my heart rate back down and get cooled off. With the exception of the last lap, when I should have been a little farther up, I did what I needed to do. And, despite how hot and awful it was, I actually had a bit of fun.

Now it's time to rest up this week and gird myself for another onslaught. Gonna be hot, just like always.

Close enough

I'm heading up to Clear Lake, Iowa, tomorrow with a few teammates for the Bikes, Blues and BBQ race weekend. From what I've heard, it's a great time - but it's always conflicted with the Omaha Race Weekend, so pretty much nobody from Nebraska has been there.

Algona is about 45 minutes straight west of Clear Lake, so this is probably about as close to a hometown race as I'll ever get. I feel good - strong, even - so I'm hoping for a good result. Mostly I'm just excited to race again. It seems like forever since Norfolk.

And that's all there is for today. Time to make the donuts.

Sharpening the sword (or maybe the hatchet)

At this point, about 10 days from the road season's goal races, there's not much I can do in terms of fitness. I'm either ready or I'm not.

But there are little bits of fine-tuning that can happen in the meantime. Last night's Wednesday Night Worlds was a good opportunity to work on the drill it-surge-sit in-surge bit for a few upcoming crits.

By and large, that part went off without a hitch. It helps, of course, if you know what's coming: Shim attacked where he always attacks, as did Lucas. In the case of Shim's jump, I was moving up before he was.

After that, the plan was to sit in and cruise the rest of the way home. Again, mission accomplished. I feel pretty solid right now. No weird soreness to speak of, and my back is fine. Right now, the only job is to figure out why my rear derailleur was so jumpy during the second half of the ride last night. It's not a cable-tension thing, so there's some investigative work to be done.

While I was trying to figure it out on the bike last night, my mind wandered to the worst-case scenario: what if my Madone had some sort of uncurable problem (at least an uncurable quick-turnaround problem)? What would I race? Orange Crush? The Cronus CX with a full-size crank installed?

Each has pros and cons, but I think I'd end up on the Cronus. It feels more like my SSL than Orange Crush does. Plus, I'd only have to swap the crank. Plus, it's just a cooler bike. You get points for that at races, I think.

Accidental perfection

A few years ago, in my finest hour as a bike racer, I stumbled upon good form mostly by accident.

After having worked nights for a few years, I switched to 9-to-5, daytime hours. Suddenly, I was getting a lot more sleep and finding my rides a lot more focused. When it came time to line up in early July for the Omaha Cycling Weekend, I was pretty much spot-on. Fresh, fast and ready.

I'm trying to replicate that run-up right now, since it appears I'll actually be racing in Omaha this year. The last two summers have been a bit of a mess, so I've actually missed the action ever since that good day a few years ago.

After Saturday's morning-long adventure, I took Sunday off and Monday easy. Today will be about three hours, with a bit of intensity built in at some point. Tomorrow's Wednesday Night Worlds will probably be a bit abbreviated. I'm racing Saturday in Iowa, and I want to be fresh.

Or, if nothing else, I'd like to be able to feel my legs. Two hours of drilling it on Wednesday won't help there.

Early morning adventures

Given the opportunity, I'd work out every morning before doing whatever it is I need to do that day. The air is a bit cooler, the roads quieter. A bowl of cereal, a cup of coffee ... or two ... and I'm off.

Today's adventure was an easy two hours or so. I had planned on a lap or two at Tranquility on the Cronus CX, but it was pretty soft. So I meandered out of the neighborhoods and out into the country for a bit. Since I didn't have a ton of time (the Tour's on, you know?), I kept it pretty simple: out on Ida, back on Fort. It's all rollers, so I tried to keep the tempo high and sprint up and over the top.

The Cronus, by the way, is more awesome every time I ride it. Coupled with the fairly new Shimano M315 shoes, it made for a nice ride. (Check out the text on that Shimano link, by the way: Designed for professional athletes and other prodigious riders. Pretty sure I'm neither of those, but man, those are nice shoes.)

On Saturday, I rolled out a bit earlier — a little before 6 — and headed down to Jones Bros., to rendezvous with the rest of the group. Mike, Jeremy, Brady, Kevin, Chris and other Chris and I headed north. We wound our way up through Fort Calhoun to Blair, then back down south through the hills.

After that, we headed west toward Elk City, down to Waterloo for a bottle refill and a snack and then back to midtown. When I finally rolled back up the driveway, my computer looked like this:

And that, folks, is a new league record. Additionally, it was really only the second century I've ridden. I've been awfully close a few times — 90-some miles — but I really don't leave the house thinking, "I'm going to ride 100 miles today." It's just a number, really.

On Saturday, it was more about having the time and energy to keep going, even though we were about a half-mile from my house at one point. Had I been able to keep going — as in, if I had more time — a Gatorade and a candy bar would have been all I needed. I felt great. That said, Brady and Spence had pretty much turned off the gas by the time I hit that point. There were moments before then where I was cross-eyed.

You get that, though, when you ride with guys like that. But it'll only make you stronger eventually. That may well be coming soon.

Don't miss a moment

Having been around the block a few times, I knew going into the 2011 season that the Cubs — my Cubs, your Cubs, whatever — weren't going to be very good.

The Opening Day outfield was good ... enough. The infield was also good enough, though with potential to be great. The starting rotation was pretty average, though the bullpen was pretty good. I knew they weren't going to win the division or anything, but it could at least be entertaining.

And with access to the entire season (not to mention the entire seasons of every other team, too) on MLB.tv, we'd get to watch.

Truth be told, it has been entertaining — but in a fifth-place team kind of way. For every good moment, like yesterday's game-winning three-run homer in the 13th inning, there's something like we saw in Kansas City last weekend. Two walks, a passed ball and a grounder that should have been an easy out. Except it wasn't. Ballgame.

Halfway through the season, the Cubs are under .500 and not exactly in position to move up. They're playing better baseball, by and large, but the hole might be too deep. Either way, it's fun to have access to every game.

Six months into the no-dish plan and things are going pretty swimmingly. The Tour starts tomorrow, which means I should figure out exactly how we're going to watch it. If the free streams were worth a crap, I'd go that way. But grainy video and distorted audio isn't really my thing.

Plus, crowding around the ol' laptop isn't nearly the same as sitting on the couch and watching it on TV.

—

Today is July 1. Nine days until the Clear Lake crit, just over two weeks until Omaha, which I haven't done since 2008. Sure, I did the road race last year, but that was more of a participation event than anything else.

I'm psyched for the Papillion crit on the 16th. I've had success there, and I think we can probably take home a win. The road race I'm less psyched about, but mostly because of the course — it's a bit boring. There's not much we can do about that sometimes, though. And given the roads that are open right now to begin with — not many of them — we can make do.

Am I actually ready? Not quite. I'll lighten the load a bit starting on Monday, hopefully getting some extra rest/sleep and being nice to my legs. Considering there isn't much of a road season left after this, I'd like to go out on a high note.