Finkelstein

Falling apart to become whole.

2011-07-25T11:10:00.000-07:00

This is a cycling blog. So I'll apologize in advance to you, the reader, for the emotional sap and lack of detailed race reports this season. I’ve been pretty good over the past 5 years or so of updating it, but this season has been a bit of a challenge for me. It’s not that there haven’t been significant happenings in my life to report but rather I just haven’t had the time to update.

The summer of Angela…that’s what I’ve always deemed this season. The focus was to take a laid back approach to my training and racing and put the wealth of my energy into the bigger more important priorities in my life. To my surprise, I’ve managed to put together a pretty solid season despite the lack of my previously taken “monkhood” approach in the years of past. Of the 33 races I’ve lined up for this year, I’ve won 10 of them, stood atop the podium 9 other times, and been in the top ten all but 4 races. I don’t have much to complain about.

Virtually all of the races I’ve lost in my life, I had already lost before I rolled up to the line…I had lost them in my mind. Yesterday was one of these occurrences. In fact, all of my races in the past 2 weeks have been the worst of my season thus far. I’ve been falling apart, I’ve been burning out. However, despite some short-lived frustration and disappointment I am pretty happy about everything that’s going on right now.

My 12-year-old nephew was telling me about cleaning his room the other day. He told me that he had to create one big mess before he could clean his room and get it in order. Lately, my mind has been elsewhere than the road beneath my tires. My recent lack of success has been determined mentally before I even rolled to the line. None of this is a bad thing, but rather how I presume things should probably be. Again, this season was all about focusing on my most important priorities. So perhaps my nephews comment applies to me now. Perhaps I need to fall apart a bit before I can become whole.

On Wednesday morning Angela and I will head up to Boyne Mountain to take the most important step we have ever taken in our lives. I’ve visualized the moment in my head for some time now. I have had several intense emotional “highs” and life defining moments atop my bike, but this one is going to trump them all. All of my experiences up until now are simply the compound of the whole person I am bringing to the alter on Saturday.

"I will bring you a whole person and you will bring me a whole person and we will have us twice as much of love and everything."
— Mari Evans

So while my racing and this cycling blog may be falling apart and going to the wayside as of lately, I’m OK with it. I’m becoming whole, and I couldn’t be happier.

We’ll see you in August. Thanks for reading.

Bluer Skys

2011-06-01T11:32:00.000-07:00

No matter how hard I try to resist it, time keeps getting faster. The races are following suit as well.

So many notable things have happened in the past few weeks, all of which are positively memorable.

Life can be a bit of a roller coaster. There are certain things that can simply make life better. I’m talking about those special times when the sky seems bluer, music sounds better, and even the taste of food is intensified. I’ve kind of been at the top of the roller coaster for the past three weeks.

Ironically, this peak all started by deciding to skip a bike race. While the Tour of Washtenaw was a very well suited race for my skill set, I opted to nominate this weekend to our wedding shower. Despite the preconceived ideas that this estrogen charged ritual is simply for women, I must admit I had a great time. My groomsmen were present to help carry gifts and to also knock back a few bowls of loud mouth soup with me. Afterward, we invited the entire wedding party and their families back to our house for a party. Much fun was had by all and I never once thought about the racing I had sacrificed for this moment. If this experience is a small glimpse into how fun July 30th will be at Boyne Mountain, we are all in for a real treat.

May 18th marked my brother Dons birthday. It was also the third time I’ve had to celebrate it without him. While he is no longer here, I spent the day thinking about him and was content that I could still feel his presence. Needless to say, I went to Waterford that night armed with some intrinsic motivation to honor my brother’s life through my racing. The evening’s conditions were miserable. It was cold and rainy at the start and the spray from the peloton’s wheels made it very challenging to see up the road or judge distance well. I told my fellow teammates that night that I really wanted to win the race. Don must have been with us as we claimed 1st, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th, and 8th place and managed to all finish a race that 1/3rd of the field threw the towel in on.

As I crossed the line in first place that day, I threw my hands up and pointed to the sky. It was a cathartic moment for me and albeit a midweek training race, it is a memorable finish that I’ll hold onto the rest of my life.

This past weekend I raced the Tour of Frankenmuth. Because of conflicting MTB events in the past I hadn’t raced this race since 2007 in which I had a very marginal finish and remember having had a very difficult time in the crosswind sections. However, 2011 marked a banner year for me in this little German town.

The race was an exciting one as it never really calmed down and there were always moves being made from the gun. Five minutes into the race I found myself in a 4 man breakaway for the entire first lap. I proceeded to pay for this effort the next two laps and did not feel very well at all. I went into the race sick, but as Ray says, “It doesn’t matter how well you feel that day, if they go up the road, you still need to go”. The race continued to ramp up with many attacks from the Carbon Racing Team. With about 7 miles to go, the field eventually came back together. However, I didn’t think I had too much left in me at that point to make something happen. Then, with about 5 more miles remaining, a move went up the road that I was fortunate to put myself in. It contained Ryan Cross (former teammate and now of Panther Pro Cycling), Brian Adams (One of Michigan’s finest long standing accomplished racers), Brian Crosby (Black line Racing) and Brian Batke (Carbon Racing). For the next five miles we pulled hard enough to stay away and the race came down to a sprint finish. Although the sprint was downhill it was into a headwind. Knowing Ryan Cross was probably the best finisher of the bunch I decided to tuck into his wheel. With about 100m to go I came around him and threw my hands up in complete surprise. In the background I could hear the amplification of Tony Bruley’s voice announcing the race and yelling my name over and over.

After the race Tony interviewed me. Our dialogue went a little something as follows:

Tony: Tim, you are a very accomplished mountain biker but seem to have a great season going on the road this year. Is road your main focus this season?

Me: To be honest with you Tony, my main focus this year is simply getting married. There have been a lot of summers of Tim in the past; this summer is the summer of Angela.

This really sums it up I suppose. I am very happy with the way my season is going; I have six wins total now. However, my most important priority is getting married and beginning my foundation for a family. I love bike racing. I feel it in my soul and it is a burning passion of mine. I plan to do it for as long as my body will physically allow me to.

Lately, the sky has been all the more blue, music just sounds all the more sweet, and I’m very content with my life. But bike racing has not been the main cause of this. Racing will never love you or care for you or be with you by your side in your worst of times. In the end, love is the most important thing. I have come to the realization though, that bike racing makes me a better person and in the end allows me to love all the more.

Thanks for reading.

Northern Neighbors, Fluid Friction, and Filthy Land Mines

2011-05-04T08:50:00.000-07:00

After a two week hiatus of any quality regimented training, my legs seemed to be a little confused last week.

The week’s racing all started with the second session of our fort nightly Canadian escapades to Ciaciaro. Despite a few failed attempts to break things up, the race came down to a dreaded field sprint. As par for the course usually follows in these situations, Paulo Eugeni proved once again that his dominant fast twitch muscles were no match for us horse heads in the final 200 meters. Despite not claiming the top podium spot, the WSC still stood atop the other two which was good enough for another evening of burritos and cervezas in Detroit’s Mexican Town. I took 2nd and Randy took 3rd.

It had been 5 years since I did my last TT, and Saturday was once again another reinforcing reminder of why I tuck my tail between my legs when the notion of Time Trialing is ever brought up. I certainly wanted to make the bike go fast, but it seems 8 other people wanted to make it go faster than mine, and they did. I managed a mediocre 9th place. However, the day was a success because I mustered up the gumption to line up to a discipline I’ve avoided for years. Time Trialing is certainly a beast of its own and I give major props to the consistent specialty gods of Michigan Time Trialing like Tom Burke and Jon Card.

For now, I need much more practice at this discipline. Seeing as I built the machine I was on that previous Monday, perhaps more time in the TT saddle will help.

There are few races in Michigan that equally draw me to them and well as detract me. At Cone Azalia, you can either have terrible luck or be terribly lucky. In the past, I’ve been on both sides of the gun. Despite the elation I had after finishing second to my own teammate three years ago, I still harbor the dream of crossing the line first at this venue. However, 2011 was not the year for this dream to come to fruition.

The conditions of this year’s race were the worst I’ve ever seen in my 8 year tenure with this event. The dirt sections were littered with wheel swallowing pits, coupled with loose rocks, and muddy skunk-tail inducing puddles. If you did not front run the first few laps, you were destined to be led into a bad line and shelled off the back.

Although I made the selection after the first three laps and was poised to put myself in a winning position, sometimes bike racing comes down to nothing more than patience and attentiveness. On the fourth lap a field split of six rolled away while I was at the back of the pack in mid conversation with Clint Verran about some speculations of how the race would play out from here. Although I put in my best effort to make contact with the front group, it was too little and too late. I watched the race roll up the road and realized the rest of my day was going to be simply spent racing for 7th place. After three more mundane laps, I won the sprint in my chase group of four for 7th place.

Cone Azalia is a tough mans race. I give major props out to Dan Lam who crashed on the first lap. As the race rolled onward his ankle began to swell up like a grapefruit. He forged onward in the first chase group for another 60 miles after the crash. Just before we rolled out for our final lap he pulled out of the race to go straight to the ER. His diagnosis was a broken ankle and a suggested 6 weeks from the game. It just goes to show you the ability a bike racer has to suffer. 60 miles on a broken ankle…indeed Cone is a tough mans race.

STS: The Finale

2011-04-19T12:09:00.000-07:00

In life and in bike racing, adaptation is a skill that can often lead to success.

Just before the season started rolling, knowing I was in decent form, I decided to set a goal of winning the Michigan Spring Series. Winning the opening race at Waterford Hills sparked confidence and intensified my motivation to want to continue to do well in the early training races. Furthermore, my consistent podium finishes had me sitting content with the belief that mathematically I had already won the spring series.

Sometimes it’s hard to hit a target when you are aiming at the wrong one or without knowledge of the target all together. Such was the case with my standing in the STS overall. In the past, the STS was always based on a racers finishes at Waterford coupled with the Ann Arbor races. However, I was unaware that this season the points were based on the Ann Arbor races exclusively. Having finished in 2nd place twice in 2 of the 3 races leading up to the finale (I missed one when I was in NC), I became aware literally minutes before the gun that I was only leading the series by a mere point. What was expected to be a laid back day of racing in which we planned to try and set another teammate besides myself up for a win, turned out to be a title battle.

Robert Foshag, of Lathrop Industries, and Vince Roberge, of Trails edge were both tailing me in close second for the series title. If either of them finished in front of me, the 3 year running streak of the Wolverines would come to an abrupt halt. Both Robert and Vince are riders who I look up to and respect greatly. Also, both riders’ skill sets can be quite a handful to deal with when going up against them in seclusion. Robert Foshag is an all around strong rider and has a vicious finish when the line is in sight. Vince, just as he proved last week, is capable of motoring away from the field never to be seen again until after he crosses the finish line in front of you. Needless to say, I lined up on Sunday knowing that I had my work cut out for me and that I needed to be crafty.

After a short team meeting just before the start, we determined that I did not have to win the race but simply ensure that neither Vince nor Robert finished in front of me. Both riders had a strong team surrounding them. It was incredibly windy and Ray suggested that I make sure I stay near the top wheels right from the gun because the selection was going to happen quickly.

This is one of my all time favorite racing pics. It looks so ominous and tells such a great story!

Ray’s advice proved to be very valuable as the break of 8 riders or so quickly developed in the first two laps. I was fortunate to make the break but was without any teammates. As I looked around at my break mates I realized that all the players of the game were represented. I couldn’t help but be filled with exhilaration and anxiety of the heightened healthy competition. Albeit nothing more than the Michigan Spring series, this WAS what bike racing is all about; anything could happen from that point on.

The break quickly started lapping some of the fragmented field which made for a lot of confusion and congestion. There were many attacks and cat and mouse antics that played out but the main break managed to stick together coming into the final 5 minutes.

As we were lapping a group of riders, Paul rang the finishing bell. There was much confusion in our group as to whether or not this was our finishing lap. However, no one was willing to risk it, so we treated the lap as if it was the end of the race. Vince attempted one last TT to the line but Robert and I followed. As we made our last left turn with the line in sight, I was sitting comfortably in 4th wheel. I saw Foshag get pinched into the curb on the left side of the road and I hit the gas as hard as I could toward the opening. I crossed the line and threw my hand in the air only to find out that Paul was simply finishing the field early and that our break still had 2 laps to go.

The first and fraudulent sprint

I was gassed from an all out finishing effort but had to quickly recover and put myself back in the mindset to do it all over again in two more laps. Luckily I was able to muster up one last good finish and crossed the line first on the day for a second time.

After the race, Ray said to me, “Tim…I’ve had to win a few races twice in my day as well. That was pretty freaking awesome.” I take great pride in helping claim a fourth year STS title for the Wolverines!

I can’t help but feel very satisfied with the early season success I’ve had. I equate it all to a natural defense mechanism that may be sub-consciously or consciously taking place in my head. I’m getting married this summer and with that I recognize that I will have to make many personal sacrifices in the future as I start a family. Also, the welfare of my job looks more dismal each day. Perhaps part of me wants to cling onto the small and romanticized hope that possibly I could do this for a living for a few years. However, the saying goes as follows:
Do you know how to make $1000 bike racing?
Answer- Start with $5000 at the beginning of the season.

No matter how unrealistic the goal of being a salaried professional bike racer may seem, I’m hard pressed to think that it is not a common fantasy of most every racer that lines up week after week, year after year all around the world. Sometimes I analogize it to my high school students telling me, “I want to be a video game tester when I grow up.” My usual response is, “good luck…get in line”. Whenever these thoughts seep into my brain I have to take my own advice. Besides this is all just for fun, the struggle is part of the appeal.

A racer is only as good as his next race. I’m keeping this in mind as the “real” season nears. But for now, I’m pretty happy with the way things are going. Also, I’ll be pretty happy even if the season doesn’t yield anymore results for me. I have a lot to look forward to.

A special thanks goes out to Erika Fulk, Cristin Robb, and Scott Kroske for consistently doing a stellar job of documenting all of these races. While I am extremely grateful of these pictures now, I know that 50 years down the road they will be of great value to me. Thanks for selflessly capturing so many cherished moments for so many people!

Ciociaro Series Race #1

2011-04-15T09:37:00.000-07:00

A.D.M.C.= any guesses?

Another great team race last night led to this...

And this!

STS Week #3: Who Cares?...I’m Flying!

2011-04-13T11:09:00.001-07:00

It’s been sometime since I’ve made any reference to the Dybo-inspired mantra of “Who Cares?...I’m Flying”. For those who are unaware, this mentality is attained when one puts all life responsibilities on hold to devote every ounce of their being into their training and racing. For instance, your gutters may be falling off your house, your family and friends may have not seen you in months, perhaps your bills are piling up but you’re out there every weekend racing and doing well. Hence, “Who Cares?...You’re Flying”.

Years ago I always used to award any rider whose efforts stuck out in my mind with the W.C.I.F. Award. This is a practice I’ve gotten away from. However, one individual this past weekend inspired me to start it back up again.

In the past, I’ve always thought to do my best I had to make sacrifices and postpone other priorities in order to achieve my goals. However, as I get older I’ve found contentment in the idea that bike racing is secondary to certain things in life. Despite my secondary devotion to the sport, my results have seemed to have improved. So while I may not be adhering to my previously held notion of the pathway to success…”Who Cares, I’m Flying”, so I’m going with it.

Randy Rodd, fellow teammate, has certainly not followed what most may view as an optimal training plan going into this season. Fresh off a 6 month bender of sewing his wild oats throughout all of Europe, Randy returned to the states a mere 4 weeks ago to once again start turning the cranks. The first race of the season led to tired legs for him and a DNF. However, the next day he showed character by simply finishing the race in Ann Arbor.

Alas, this brings me to this past weekend’s race recap. Low and behold Waterford once again manifested itself into an early race breakaway. Many of the riders who spent their entire off season doing their homework, myself included, wound up in the 9 man break. However, Randy Rodd, fresh off the couch, also placed himself into the break after a tenacious bridge up to the front group. After about 80 minutes of breakaway high jinx, Randy managed to survive to the finish line and led me out for a third place finish and a 9th place finish himself.
The final Sprint
Getting nipped at the line by an old man and a Canadian!
A bird's eye view.

The next day, Ann Arbor brought about another strong spring season field coupled with high winds. Again, an early break formed which I found myself in. After a few laps of pacelining, I looked back and saw a fellow Wolverine racer attempting the bridge to our group. Much to my surprise it was Randy Rodd! After about 40 minutes of breakaway efforts we were able to lap the field. I ended up 2nd on the day and Randy was 6th. Hence, let’s all raise our beer steins to Mr. Randall; he is the first rider in 2011 to receive the W.C.I.F. Award. This also reminds us that the training races are not always about gaining fitness but also sharpening your technical chess game of bike racing.

Sunday's final sprint for second, Vince Roberge had already slipped away after we lapped the field for a well-earned victory

As a whole, the entire Wolverine team has ridden in great cohesion this season. Each member has selflessly played their role to ensure that the whole of the team is a success. I do feel great things are yet to come. So although we may be low in numbers this season, and slightly rag tag, who cares…we’re flying.

After my finishes this weekend, I do believe that mathematically it is impossible to not win the spring series. This is particularly meaningful to me because a Wolverine will have won the spring series for the last 4 years now (2010:Ryan Cross, 2009:Luke Cavender,2008:Ray Dybowski). However, Ray stated to me, “You better still ride like you stole it”, which I intend to do. Some may view the spring training series as meaningless, and perhaps it is. A racer’s fitness can significantly change from now until the bulk of the season, and one’s success in the spring does not dictate their success when the big races roll around. In essence, the real work is still ahead of us, but for now…Who Cares…I’m Flying!

6WC: Less can be More

2011-04-05T13:40:00.001-07:00

Why do we travel for hours in search of venues to test our mental and physical fortitude and essentially beat the crap out of ourselves for little to no payout other than the intrinsic satisfaction along with the mediocre amount of half-hearted props given to us by our dysfunctional sub-culture? After years of searching for this ever illusive answer, I have given up. I'm simply settling with the idea of nothing more than that I just like it more than most any other things I've done in my life. So nonetheless, Six Hours of Warrior Creek in North Carolina served once again as a perfect medium for my sadistic conquests.

BMCC pulled off another great race boasting a sold out field in some of the most flowing trail I have ever ridden. This race comes sealed with the Finkelstein approval of must-do races for the fellow fat tire endurance junkie.

Last year I did this race on a geared bike and received a lesson in humility and perseverance when I flatted on my last lap just as I was coming up on the first place rider Nathan Wyatt. I ended up with a frustrated 3rd place in the mens open category. However, these endurance events have always held the metaphorical life significance of the idea of moving forward.

"Anyone can plan to win a fight, it's what you do after get clocked in the jaw the first time that matters" -Mike Tyson

Although I like to pretend otherwise, I am a teacher by profession and a cyclist by hobby. Lately things have been looking grim in the world of educational funding, especially in Michigan Special Education. We recently found out that we will be taking a cut in our contracts in the years to follow. This is coupled with the even more powerful underlying threat that we may not even have jobs in the near future. This ominous horizon has many of my coworkers in an emotional uproar as this news significantly threatens their comfort of life they have strived for. Although I have not allowed this problem to effect my well-being too much the anxiety of others I have been surrounded by has been wearing thin on my nerves. Perhaps I am coming from what some may view as an ignorant stance, but this funding problem seems to be a community issue that we are choosing to make a personal problem. Without going on too much of a rant, I'm simply saying that I'm choosing to not let money affect my happiness. I like to dwell on what feels real to me, like beating the crap out of myself at a 6 hour mountain bike race.

"Let's ride, the miles are free today" -Robert Herrimen

I mention these above frustrations because these were just some of the thoughts streaming through my head as I made the 11 hour trek down to North Carolina. Also, I feel it aligns itself nicely with this "less is more" theme I'm going for this season. Over the years, I've learned that your mental race fuel is just as important as your physical fuel.

In an effort to scale my velo-bill back this season to allocate more money toward my main event this year: getting married, I decided to only build up a single speed mountain bike. My motivation to do this was prompted by nothing more than the idea that the most fun I had on a bike last season was on one gear.

There are certain stigmas that have attached themselves to the SS world. Some may call it an excuse bike, or a purist, maybe even a bad ass. Some may insist that you better adhere to a healthy liquid diet of oat sodas and barely if you want to line up with one gear. I've heard others describe it as a way to be less competitive and strip away the egotistical motives of the sport. Many cling to the idea of resisting industry innovation, although those same people will line up with a sub twenty pound 29er, a steed that was non-existent mere years ago. Needless to say, the single speed crowd can be a little territorial. There are many egg shells you that you may be required to tread lightly on as well as toes you will want to avoid. However, regardless of what you may lay claim to, when you line up to race a bicycle you do it to try and do your best.

For me, it's all bike racing...whether it be skinny tires, gears, fat tires, monocogs, pavement, dirt, or track. To me, it's all the business of turning the cranks and it's all fun.

I'm not going to get too into the specifics of the race. I rode my bike as fast as I could in the woods for nearly six hours. On the first lap, I crashed three times. First I lost my glasses. The second crash, I broke my shoe necessitating a shoe change in the pit before the next lap. And on the third lap I took a branch to the chest that made me feel like I broke a few ribs.

A few days before this race started, the promotor published a quote that resonated with me. I felt it applicable to not only my racing but also the situation that is going on at work lately.

"Once you replace negative thoughts with positive ones...you will start having positive results" -Willie Nelson

I was not feeling too peppy or confident after my multiple crashes, although I was still sitting in the lead. On lap four I found myself deep in a valley of self-doubt and low energy. Just as I started to settle into a comfort pace. The second place rider Luke Sagur rolled up on me. We chatted for awhile and I could tell his energy was much higher than mine so I let him pass and roll away from me. On my next pit, my support crew informed me that the third place rider, Tim Anderson, was a mere three minutes back from me. I began to fear the idea that I may lose a podium spot if I don't pick up my pace. I started to think about the above quote. Despite physical pain I dug deep into my emotional reserve tank and my pace began to pick up. By the end of that lap I had overtook Luke and began solidifying my first place position.

In the end I managed to put about 8 minutes on Luke and wound up first place in the single speed category. I must also admit that I did come equipped to this race with a secret motive; to win the overall on a single speed. This didn't happen but I did manage to take third overall.

It's pretty hard to spend that much time in the saddle on a mountain bike, racing hundreds of other people, without any dramatic happenings. 2011's 6WC was no exception to this idea. In the end, I am thankful to of had another sadistic opportunity to practice painful perseverance. More importantly, I give thanks for the reinforcing experience that less can often mean more.

Thanks for reading.

And we’re off…

2011-03-28T12:11:00.001-07:00

“It never gets any easier…you only go faster” –Greg LeMond

This past weekend dawned the opening to my 2011 cycling season. As the weekend neared I was torn between leaving town for the gruesome and brutal Barry Roubaix or simply rolling from home out to Waterford Hills Speedway for some road action. With Six Hours of Warrior Creek approaching this upcoming weekend, I made the choice to simply stay local and race Waterford.

The race went quite well for me. No more than fifteen minutes into it, I found myself in a 2 man break with Martin Vecchio. We worked together cohesively for about 50 minutes or so and I started the sense his energy faltering so I decided to press the pace a bit and see where the chips fell. I quickly found myself out on the course in a solo break and virtually lapping the field.

There are few things that compare to the feeling of rolling your final 3 laps of a race knowing that barring any flat tires or mechanicals, your win is pretty much solidified. I call these “Zen cycling moments”. I’m pretty sure if I could bottle this feeling up and sell it, it would move off the shelves pretty quickly. I embraced the feeling of these last final laps and threw my hands up in personal satisfaction at the line.

Day 2 of opening season had me rolling back out to Runway Plaza in Ann Arbor for yet another season of early circles. On my drive out I entertained the notion of how great it would feel to score back to back wins. I started to visualize my game.

As the race started, again I quickly found myself in an early break. All of the heads of state in attendance that day were represented (Alan Antonuk, Vince Roberge, Alexy Vermullen, Ray Dybowski, and the formally unknown Rudy Peterson). We quickly put time into the field and managed to lap them in about 20 minutes. The elation that is brought about by lapping the field never gets old.

As we were greeted by the announcement of 3 laps to go, I told Ray I was quite confident I could win the sprint with a great lead-out from him. This meant he had to sacrifice his legendary “Ray move” for the chance at my victory. As Mike Walden always professed, “You have to risk losing to win”, which Ray did for me. As we barreled into the last turn I wound up my sprint from 300 meters out. It’s important to never short sell or underestimate your opponents. Based on reputation, I was really only worried about beating Alan, Vince and Alexy to the line, I didn’t think too much of the young Rudy Peterson. As my front wheel approached the line, I looked over my should and saw I had several bike lengths on the wheels I was worried about and I began to let up. However, a race is never over until you cross the line. In the final ten feet or so Rudy came around and threw his bike at the line for the win. I have to give it to the young man; I will never underestimate his finish again.
Rudy nipping me at the line.

All in all, I was pretty content with a win and a second place for my first two races. However, just as the LeMond quote says, it will only get faster from here. I may have a good foundation laid, but there is still plenty of work to do.

I have to thank all my fellow teammates that came out to race this weekend. Despite our lean numbers this year, we worked together very well.

On the Horizon

2011-03-24T09:33:00.000-07:00

It’s that all too familiar feeling again; the pre-season jitters. This time of year I always get an eager yet anxious feeling to get the season underway. However, this time around it’s a bit different for me. While my aspirations are high as usual, my racing results may be taking second priority for the first time in awhile. This is a concept that I dabbled in last year and it proved to be a successful equation with a season of 8 wins, and 14 total podium finishes. It seems ironic that when I took my racing and training with a much more relaxed approach, I arguably had my best results. Perhaps my older age induced wisdom is leading me to understand that I race simply for fun. However, racing aside, I always turn the pedals for much bigger motives. This attitude has aided in me not taking myself too seriously and simply focusing on being the best I personally can be at the game of bike racing. It’s with this philosophy that I will line up this race season.

This past weekend we headed up to Rose City for the Wolverines 5th annual training camp. The saying goes as follows, “anyone can head south for winter training, the Wolverines head north”. For some it was an opportunity for one last fine-tuning of their fitness before opening weekend. For others, it was like cramming for an exam.

With great roads in front of me and even greater teammates at my side, I was able to roll 220 miles in two days. Overall, I was pretty pleased with my fitness and am hopeful for a new season. However, despite whatever results may follow, I’m simply thankful for another season to be involved in the sport and interact with those around me who share my same passion.

One thing I’ve learned this off season through watching the entire 6 seasons of The Sopranos aboard the trainer can best be summed up in the following quote.

“Every day is a gift. Focus on the good times…try and remember the times that were good.”-Tony Soprano

As we were rolling in a paceline of synergistic harmony on Sunday afternoon, Joe Bruchanski turned to me and commented, “You know Tim, it’s moments like this that make life so worth living”. I’d have to say I agree with him.

I look forward to seeing you all at the line yet again for another season. Good luck to everyone lining up this weekend…may your investment yield a great return.

Highest of Highs

2011-03-14T17:34:00.000-07:00

Last night I arrived at the Detroit airport from Aspen at midnight. I was tired and physically spent from 5 days straight of hardcore snowboarding and alpine hiking. Looking around the Detroit airport, I was in a bit of mountain induced culture shock as I watched several overweight individuals struggle to move about the airport, breathing heavily, and equipped with general looks of discontentment with there surroundings.

I may be coming a bit from a soapbox on this one, but I held that same look on my face as well yesterday evening; mine may have been due to other causes. I should forewarn you that I always have a case of post-trip depression after coming home from an epic trip, and I am writing this in the depths of this depression.

It had been two years since I had been in the Rockies and I was more than excited to return. When I had graduated from college, I took the rest of the year to chase the endless winter. I tallied up a whopping total of 109 days of skiing that year. It was at a pivotal time in my life and I was exploring the notion of trying to make this lifestyle a full time gig. However, despite the passion, a few uncontrollable variables kept me from continuing to pursue my dream.

For those of you that don’t know, I did not always live the lifestyle I live now. My priorities were much different. Perhaps it may be more accurately explained as simply having a lack of defined priorities. Seemingly overnight I found myself weighing 260 pounds.

Living an active lifestyle was something that inevitably rescued me from my declining personal health and gave me true purpose and much needed intrinsic motivation. However, I realized that the more I got into cycling and other endurance sports the more my lifestyle became “out of the norm”. This didn’t matter to me too much at the time because I took pride in belonging to a sub-culture of the Metro-Detroit area. However, with time I must admit that echoes of “I give you credit” and “Wow…I could never ride 100 miles” or the oh-so-common, “my butt would get so sore” tend to grow old.

During my time in Aspen this past week, it was refreshing to interact with like-minded individuals who shared the same passion as I do.

I’ve written it several times before but I must reiterate that I’m a big believer in a person’s highest of highs only being measured against their lowest of lows. This trip files in one of my “highest of highs” categories.

Jeff Tenniswood, Jeff Surnow and I at the top of Highland Bowl

The second day we were there, we hiked to the top of the Highland Bowl twice. I couldn’t help but feeling completely on top of the world as I sat and took a moment to take in the beauty of this special place. The mountains have an uncanny way of humbling a person and making us realize just how insignificant so many of the trivial aspects of our lives are. They always help me to realize just how thankful I am to simply be alive and a part of God’s creation.

Post-Race

On the third day of the trip I engaged in yet another extremely humbling experience as I raced the America’s Uphill Race. The race is a 2.5-mile power hike straight up Aspen Mountain to the peak of the sundeck. The route averages a 25% gradient and ends at an 11,300 ft peak. The first day I was there I did a hike to preview the course and was left with an extreme headache from lack of oxygen and a bit of nausea and vertigo. However, I bounced back quickly and was able to adapt to the elevation by race day. Despite being a Michigan flatlander, I was able to pull off a 5th place finish in my respective 30-39 category with a time of 1hr 3min. I was very thankful for the experience. It has been proudly added as another notch in my belt. I’m already vowing next year to make a commitment to returning to this race and attempting to dip under an hour, a time that even the locals refer to as “superhuman”.

Alas, all good things must come to an end. As I dragged my feet all the way home I decided to try my best to change my perspective upon my return. I may not live in the most conducive environment to my lifestyle, but I have many blessings and great things here at home. We are all products of our environment. I think one thing I’ve picked up growing up in the Detroit area is the ability to make more out of less. Embracing these “highs” I’ve been able to experience is like fuel for my everyday life. Life is funny in the sense that many of our most memorable moments are simply short instances, snapshots in time. It’s these snapshots that keep our tanks full with the motivation to get out there day to day.

I’m thankful that I’ve been able to once again refuel my tank. Instead of dwelling in that which I don't have, I'm embracing that which I've been thankful enough to have and experience.

A very special thank you goes out to Jeff Surnow for helping me make this trip possible and for ensuring that every second was spent to the fullest while out there. Your hospitality will be forever remembered.

Finding Strength in Pain

2011-03-08T16:51:00.000-08:00

This past Thursday was my 32nd birthday. As cliché as it is, I've always found celebrating birthdays to be a little weird in the sense that it is just simply another day unlike any of the rest. However, as I get older I have been warming up to the idea of how important it is to honor a person's life here on earth. While we can do this on a daily basis, it's nice to pick one specific day out of the year to ritualistically do this.

On March 3rd, 2009 my identification with my birthday was permanently changed forever as I answered the call informing me that my brother had been rushed to the hospital. It had been a pretty good day prior to this call. I had squeezed in 5.5 hours of training on a work day and had even had a few minutes to crack open a celebratory beverage with Angela.

At my brother's funeral I stood before a filled congregation a read the following words as a part of his eulogy I prepared:

My brother was called to his heavenly kingdom on my birthday. He and I will now share a day every year that we can celebrate life together. I will celebrate the life my brother led, and celebrate my own life in which I'll strive to follow the footsteps and examples laid before me by my brother Don. I am honored to have this day with my brother.

Despite my feeling of honor to share this day with my brother, I found myself filled with anxiety and many indefinable emotions as my birthday approached this year. Initially, I didn't even want to acknowledge it and preferred to honor the day as being my brother's day only.

I have this personal practice in which I like to perform some sort of act to truly make me appreciate life and remind myself of just how alive I am on my birthday. We all do this, whether it's 50 laps of the Champs Elysees on our 50 birthday, or 21 shots on our 21st birthday. The act of recognizing a person's day they were born is a way of celebrating their continued life in this world.

For the past two seasons I have been running the stairs at Bloomer in the off season as a plyometric exercise to increase leg strength but also my ability to suffer. The stairs are 190 steps of lactic acid inducing pain. These workouts always prove to be a great source of suffering that’s on a different level than the bike. Inspired by the hour challenge first introduced to me by Art Fleming and Mike Simonson, I decided to attempt 32 reps of the bloomer stairs as fast as I could on my 32nd birthday.

I was seeking a cathartic experience to help make sense of my newly defined notion of what March 3rd means to me now. I wanted to suffer to be reminded of just how alive I am. I wanted to be thankful for my ability to simply push myself to the edge and achieve a tangible goal. I wanted to honor my own life by finding strength in pain. I wanted to make myself proud by doing something that would of made my brother proud.

Although this quest was completely brought on by my own choice and initiative, I found myself riddled with anxiety to the point of a stomach full of nerves earlier in the day as I reflected on what lay ahead of me.

So after one warm up trip up the stairs to get the tally going, I started the clock and began to tick away at attempting my goal. I must admit it was extremely mentally daunting after the first 3 reps, already redlining my heart rate, knowing that I had 27 more trips up the stairs. I started with music to keep me motivated but found it to be a distraction after about 5 reps and decided to bail on it. The next few reps I tried to focus on my motives for attempting this. I tried to fuel myself on emotion but this only lasted so long and I started to stagger. It wasn’t until I was able to silence my mind that I fell into a good rhythm.

I eventually made it to 32 reps and within my goal time. I sat on the stairs stunned, still suffering, and reflecting on how alive I was in that moment.

The goal was not about the physical accomplishment of the feat but rather the metaphorical significance that came through the accomplishment. I wanted to find strength in pain. At one point, I met what I thought were my limits but I strived to push through them and did. There have been many times in my life I've attempted this and failed.

As I laid down that evening, I was able to find peace with the day and honor two special lives.

Specials thanks go out to my future sister in law who had accompanied me to the stairs that day to help with motivation and my pacing. I doubt I could of kept going as hard as I did without your presence to keep me honest and push me.

Unexpected Inspiration

2011-02-10T11:44:00.000-08:00

I recently changed the title of this blog to Learning to Suffer. This has become an idea I’ve slowly become obsessed with over the years. It started as a Dybo-Induced mantra to help me finish races but has been transforming and manifesting itself into all areas of my life for awhile now. So I found it fitting to name my blog after this.

Learning to suffer…at first glance, it sounds a little morbid, maybe even sadistic, perhaps even depressing. However, I find it quite the contrary. Suffering is part of life. It’s inescapable, we will all inevitably suffer at one point in our life, indeed some more than others. The new title isn’t intended to dwell on the word “suffering” but rather the word “learning”.

What does it truly mean to “Learn to Suffer”? It’s a notion that most likely takes on a different form and meaning for each individual. I suppose this is an idea that is an ongoing process as well. Within myself, I’ve developed a clearer understanding of what this means more and more over the years.

“Suffering is but another name for the teaching of experience, which is the parent of instruction and the schoolmaster of life.”-Horace

The effects of adversity can take a person one of two directions. It can affect you positively or it can effect you negatively. One thing is for certain, under the terms of true adversity, you are never unaffected. After I went through the initial emotional struggles of losing my brother I distinctly remember an instance in which I took an introspective glimpse and conversed with myself. I determined that I can either let this affect me in a positive way or a negative way, but for certain, the choice was mine. After all, we are a product of our choices, not our circumstances. To me, this is the essence of my idea of “learning” to suffer. Again, suffering comes with life's price of admission, it’s unavoidable. How we accept and deal with it is something that takes learning through practice.

Yesterday I went to visit one of my students in the hospital. This was a student whom I never got off to the right start with. Last year, he did his best to make our lives very challenging while in my classroom. Without getting into specifics, this student was not dealt the best hand in life. Several factors had lead to a steady stream of suffering for him. All in all, he had some good reason to be angry. On top of everything, recently he was involved in an accident at his work that will affect his range of physical ability for the rest of his life.

Sometimes we can find inspiration in unexpected places. I hadn’t gone to visit this student with the idea that it would be a reciprocally beneficial interaction; I simply wanted to show my support and concern. To my surprise he had done quite a bit of maturing since I had last sat down with him a year or so ago. Despite some insurmountable odds, this individual is learning to suffer. As I sat and spoke with him he began to open up more and more and share some of the thoughts that were going through his head. We talked about the frustrating nature of the permanency of how one single unexpected moment in time can change your entire course in an instant. Without, much hesitation or debate, I started to open up to him about losing my brother, which is something I had not previously ever done with any students of mine. I accompanied this with the idea of “Learning to Suffer” and how you have two choices of how you will allow this to affect you. He was very receptive and really listened intently.

Last year, in a moment of anger, this same student had firmly exclaimed to me, “what the hell to you care about me, you only do this job for the F-ing paycheck”. At the time, I simply let it roll off of me. In my line of work, teaching students with emotional impairments, verbal abuse simply comes with the territory and you quickly become immune to it. However, he brought his statement up again yesterday. I was very surprised, as I really didn’t even think he remembered what he had said. He explained that he now understood why the staff at my school willingly walk through the school doors each day. Furthermore, he was even insightful enough to tell me that he understands that I am smart enough to get a higher paying job in another vocational field, but that I must really actually care about what I do. There are always intermittent moments in a teacher’s career which reinforce your occupational choice; this was one of them.

Time seemed to have slipped away from me, as what was planned to be a 30 minute visit quickly turned into a 2 hour one. Without realizing, I had sacrificed my rationed time for my pre-planned evening training session. However, while the physical training aspect of racing is in no doubt the first and foremost most integral one, sometimes the mental preparation is equally important. Mental race fuel can go a long way to enhance your fitness through added perseverance.

I was not the one in the hospital. I was not the one who had been dealt the terrible hand. I was the one who was going to give support for someone in need. Ironically, and much to my surprise I found strength and inspiration from this individual. He had commented to me, “Mr. Finkel, I know you take a lot of pride in your bike riding and racing, I have never met anyone who takes bike riding so seriously...and I bet you think about your brother when you pedal that bike, I bet you want to try and do your best and win to make him proud…I think that’s pretty cool”. He was right, but he may not have realized that I probably will now draw strength from his own perseverance as well. As I left, he was actually lecturing me to make sure I keep my head up high and stay positive.

I left the hospital with the content feeling that this visit was more beneficial for me than any trainer interval workout would have been that evening. Sometimes the lessons of suffering are the most valuable, and sometimes they come from some of the most unexpected places. I am grateful for this experience.

Homage Manifesto

2011-02-07T12:59:00.000-08:00

First post of 2011…where have I been? It seems that for years, this blog has served as a platform for all of my cycling induced ramblings. However, recently I’ve found myself less apt to want to voice my thoughts and rather focus on minimizing outside distraction in an effort to maximize my efforts towards this summer’s task at hand. So I apologize for my lack of posts these days. This year’s task does not only include putting together my race season but also getting married as well as procuring a four legged new addition to my family.

Truth is I haven’t had much to say lately that you all haven’t heard from me already. You can only write so many race reports, submissions on perseverance, and insights into the larger, metaphorical significance of cycling before it all seems to sound like recycled redundancy and you lose interest. I also am not quite sure people even read blogs anymore. I’m beginning to assume that if my thoughts are not limited to 140 characters, than they will not be absorbed by my peers.

I have never used this blog as a venue to vent my emotions about the happenings of my immediate cycling culture and scene. Well, I did write a bit of a manifesto on April 14th, 2008 that even the MI Scene felt compelled to repost but other than that, I’ve kept my outlook and attitude positive. This is all to say until now. It seems that hearsay and grumblings amongst the more virgin layer of the Metro-Detroit race culture has left me with a very bad taste in my mouth that I can’t seem to get out.

What caused this bad taste? I’m speaking about the recent doings of the generation of “the grass is greener on the other side” racers. I’m speaking directly to those riders who don’t ask what they can do to be a part of the team they are on but rather what is the team going to do for me? I’m speaking directly to those who display and air of entitlement and think that just because they’ve finished a few races, maybe even wound up in the money a couple times, that the sport owes them something more than what they are already getting. I’m talking about those who make lateral team leaps to solve their lack of race results rather than putting their heads together with their comrades to develop a cohesive plan of how to improve collectively. And I’m specifically speaking to those who have no hesitation to forget to acknowledge those responsible for first taking them to a race, teaching them how to ride a pace line, how to corner, what interval training is all about, how to have fun with the sport, and sometimes simply how to put your rear wheel on properly. There is no need to name names; if you need to hear this, you will.

Perhaps this disgust may be exacerbated by the fact that I’ve been watching The Soprano’s all season on the trainer, but nonetheless there are principles here. Aside from the immoral behavior, gratuitous murders, and sociopathic tendencies of The Soprano’s, there are some ethical life lessons to be learned. Hierarchy is an idea that helps keep order, respect, and hard work an integral component of a culture. It combats entitlement and helps to create an environment of multidirectional respect amongst its members. Respect is given by what has been shown, and true success comes from goals and aspirations that are reinforced by those around you. In a sense cycling has always been a brotherhood for me. And with that name “brotherhood” accompanies very serious connotations, much like words like love or hate. You better truly mean it if you say it.

Lets all be honest with ourselves, the glory that is received from racing success is indeed a romanticized one. Only about 0.5% of bike racers throughout the world really even make enough money to make an actual career out of it. However, every season thousands of amateur racers line up seeking something they have not yet mentally attained. So we must do it for other motives. Hopefully these motives extend beyond discounted product. While these motives could easily be filibustered upon for pages I think we can narrow them down to two things:
1. To gain respect of your peers and a name for yourself you can be proud of.
2. To experience the personal intrinsic satisfaction that cannot be bought but rather only attained through hard work and dedication.

Now I’m not speaking directly to those who may have made team transitions due to a relocation of residence or specifically those who have moved up in the rankings to a team that can bring them to the next step like bigger and better races and venues. However, I may be speaking about you if you are one who failed to look back at those who helped pave the path to that next step. Frankie Andreu always took the time throughout all the phases of his career to thank Michigan cycling and specifically the Wolverine Sports Club for helping him get to where he was. I’m speaking most directly to the riders who make lateral team moves without first discussing with their current team and with the notion that because their current team may not have to offer exactly what they personally want, they’re bailing rather than trying to play their part in improving the “whole”.

If we are to look at racing as being part of a brotherhood, then perhaps shouldn’t we try and mend problems rather than just leaving them? If you have a problem with a family member, do you simply leave and go join another one? Mutualism is a fundamental aspect of our behavior as mammals.

You may agree with my idea or not, and that’s ok. I value different sets of opinions. I simply feel that this idea boils down to foundational ethics and manners that human beings deserve to give each other.

I may simply just be old school at heart, but I still think cycling is a team sport. However, I see an increase each season in new riders that don’t want to be part of a team but simply want to keep their own personal best interests as first priority. I always wonder why these types of riders don’t just race solo with a jersey that simply says “ME” as the title sponsor.

In a culture that seems to become cheaper and more and more disposable everyday, let’s try and keep our sport honorable and valuable. Appreciate that you belong to something that was here before you, would still be here without you, and WILL be here after you are long gone. Respect your fellow riders no matter what level they may be at. And most importantly, honor your team by displaying basic forms of courtesy and respect.

Thank you, and my closet is now clean. Rebuttals are welcome privately or publically, but do me the favor of not doing it anonymously. See you all at the line.

Iconic Metal

2010-12-20T18:39:00.000-08:00

My grandfather used to commemorate all of his major landmarks in his lifetime by the car he happened to be driving at the time. He loved his cars. He’d make references like, “I remember when…that was when I had my 52’ Plymouth”.

This past week, I ceremonially built up my 1999 custom painted Titanium Kona Hei Hei. Every year I pull this bike out, I fall in love with it all over again. There is special meaning and emotions connected to this bike.

I have been blessed with great sponsors and help with a sport that I otherwise could never afford to have the latest and greatest. I am very thankful for every new bike I’ve attained each season. However, despite their pretty looks and high performance, these days my bikes have become more of a tool rather than a jewel.

I had worked all summer to purchase the Hei Hei frame. I carefully tallied my hours and calculated the exact day I could get on the phone and order the fine steed. I spent countless hours thumbing through the QBP catalogue reconfiguring my dream build and meticulously piecing together the most finely matched anodized pieces of flare, down to the crimp caps and bolt kits.

Every year I pull this bike out I am reminded of what bikes meant to me back then and how they made me feel. I had never crossed the line before the rest of the field yet, I hadn’t ever ridden a hundo before, I didn’t realize how therapeutic bikes could be, and I certainly had no clear concept of just how far a bike could take a person. The bike simply represented unchartered potential, hope, and aspiration. It was the infancy of my love affair of man and velo machine.

This winter season, I have a few frames in my stable worthy of being relegated to winter riding. However, last week I reached for the Hei Hei once again when it came time to coble together this seasons “winter beater”. The more I think about it, the more I realize there may have been some deeper sub conscious underlying psychology as to why I did this.

The day before I built up the bike, I heard a few dreaded words that had never really crossed my mind before. “Tim is getting old enough, that even he is starting to get a bit outdated in the racing world”.

Since my involvement in the sport I have always been driven by personal progression. Besting previous years has always been something that has been consistently achieved. I must admit, at first I was a bit taken back by this comment. Are my best years behind me? I’ve always thought I still have races to be won that have not yet been won.

I was quickly soothed by the idea that whether or not I am outdated, there will inevitably come a day when I do become outdated. A day when much like my grandfather, I look back and say; “I remember when I won…that was when I was riding my 2005 Trek…”. When this day comes, will that be it for me? Will I hang up my bikes permanently and let them collect dust for the rest of my life, leaving them with nothing more than the stories of adventures had in the past? What soothed me was that I realized I would never let this happen. There will always be a race for me despite whether it’s an elite race or not. You are never “at the top”; there is always someone capable of besting even your greatest form. I have learned to play the game. Even more importantly, I have learned to love the game of bike racing.

So perhaps this is why I built the Hei Hei back up. I wanted once again climb atop the bike that really helped to start it all for me and represented hope and aspiration. After all, this was the first bike I had ever won a race on, raced a 24hr race on, and rode 100miles with. Everyone has that one bike they'll never sell, this is it for me. I've probably had around 20+ bikes since this one, but I'll always come back to it.

Winter riding is a ritualistic time to set new goals. It's a time to be driven by your dreams. Next season I plan to continue to play the game.

Cross Training

2010-12-12T12:56:00.001-08:00

Paramount Barely

2010-11-11T13:30:00.000-08:00

This Iceman report is not so much a race report, but rather the description of one ceremonial and annual instance that has now become engrained in my season as ritual each year.

For those who know me, you know I like my beer. I drink it often, and for several different occasions. However, there is one specific beer I have each year that I can always clearly identify as my absolute favorite beers of the year.

Iceman is a funny race…perhaps it is its timing, maybe it’s the allure and mystique it has gained over the years, and maybe it’s because it is the largest mountain bike race in America. Whatever makes this race what it is, one thing is for certain, it is a race that always perpetuates months or preparation and months of provoked thought post race. What makes this so funny is that it is simply a 28 mile race on an extremely technically neutral course.

Iceman takes place at a time of year when the road racers season has ended, so they end up racing it. Also, cyclocross racers are in the thick of their season, so they race it. The mountain bikers are always up to race, so they travel cross country to race. The combination of such an eclectic race demographic creates something special that other races just don’t have.

Not only does the race itself cause for elevated heart rates but the anxiety of the preparation alone has many people going anaerobic just thinking about the start gun. A good showing at the Iceman gives you hope and sparks unparalleled enthusiasm and dedication for the following race year. Likewise, failed expectations at Iceman cause you to deeply look introspectively at what you can do to make next season your best one ever. Regardless, this race is always held as a metaphor of where you will guide your future drive and focus.

The 2010 Iceman was not good to me at all. Both the legs as well as the machine beneath them did not want to cooperate with my mind’s intentions and expectations. However, this is not a race report…this is a story about my annual favorite beer.

For many people, myself included, the finish line at Iceman is the last one I will cross for that given race season. Every year, I treat myself to a cold one shortly after the line. This is always my most beloved beer of the year because it stands for so much more than its contents. This specific beer gets raised to another full successful season of good results, personal health, and loving family and friends. Not only does this beer celebrate the end of a journey but it also represents a clean slate and a fresh start, full of expectation and promise for the year and years to come. Beer can only taste this good after the arduous experience of a full season under your belt.

Despite what my Iceman result is each year, I am always thankful. This is what will keep me coming back year after year...my quest for the best annual beer I could ever have.

Beer of choice this finish line: Bell’s Two-Hearted
My vote for the Landlord of the Midwest: Brian Matter
See you all next year…

Learning to Suffer

2010-10-25T12:00:00.000-07:00

It was a tough race. The field was filled with the “who’s who” of racing. My nerves were high and in my mind, I had already lost the race even before it started because of my mental intimidation. The gun sounded, and my heart rate was pegged within 30 seconds. The pace didn’t slow down, but rather kept ramping up and surging even more potently than it had mere minutes ago. Thoughts of quitting began to seep into my mind and I became comforted by the thought that I could make this all end if I just stopped pedaling. I pushed onward for a few moments longer and gave what I thought was my last best effort. However, it was just that, my last effort. Soon after, I watched the field disappear before my front wheel while I fell off the back.

After cooling down, I rolled up to Ray and exclaimed how difficult the race was and how I tried to give it all I had but it just wasn’t good enough. He replied back to me a few simple words, “You know what your problem is Finkel, you need to learn how to suffer!” In disgust and defense I barked back, “Ray! I was suffering in that race!” He refuted, “You didn’t suffer…I’ll tell you when the first time you suffer is.” He went on to retell a classic Dybo Memoir involving Clair Young, a similar defeated race of his, a raddish, and those all so wise words…you need to learn how to suffer.

Ray was right, I hadn’t learned to suffer yet.

On the morning of October 12th, 2010, the sport of cycling lost quite possibly one of its most unsung heroes. This is something I’ve been reluctant to write about for awhile. The task of honoring a person who gave so much seemed monumental and a bit intimidating.

I had only had the privilege of conversing with Clair Young a handful of times. However, during those times I was able to make the accurate assumption that Clair never really said anything that wasn’t worth saying. I always walked away from my interactions with him smarter and wiser than I had been earlier that day. Despite my minimal interactions with Clair, I feel that I am traveling daily on roads he helped pave. As a result, I feel I have an acute understanding of the person he was, and the person he wanted to project to the world. This has not only given me inspiration but great respect for Clair.

Clair left a clear message with the Wolverines that has become a mantra for me not only in terms of racing but in life in general. This message was simple: you need to learn to suffer. I’ve always felt that our highs can only be measured by our lowest lows. Clair lost his wife at the tender age of 37. However, he kept his family together by devoting himself to his children, speed skating, and cycling. Two of his children Roger and Shelia, went on to attain more National Championships, World Championships and Olympic medals than I have room to write on this page.

I feel very fortunate to of been able to interact with Clair. Moreover, I feel fortunate that his teachings and ideals have been passed along to me through the Wolverine Sports Club. Best of all, I am thankful that through Clair’s words of wisdom I have truly learned how to suffer.

Ray was right. At the time, I hadn't suffered yet. It wasn’t until years after that first race I dropped out of, and several results later that Ray finally pulled me aside and said, “You've suffered…Congratulations…I’m proud of you.”

12 hours of Getting Beat by a Girl.

2010-10-13T09:46:00.000-07:00

Although I am still rolling a healthy amount of miles these days, my racing objectives for the season have mostly all been met and I am focusing more toward 2011.

Different racers have different motives for lining up at any given start line. Some may take off at the gun with the intent to decimate the entire field, some may be seeking out something from within they are not sure exists, some may simply be trying to break personal records, some may be doing it to share an experience with other people who share your passion, and some may simply just be trying to finish. I must admit, I have lined up for all of the above reasons at one point in my life.

2010’s edition of 12hrs of Addison Oaks had me lining up for a new motive, to seek out some season-end closure.

For the past few seasons my recipe for success has been pretty concise and simple; pick one audacious goal toward the end of the season and treat everyday/race leading up to it like rungs on a ladder to get to the top and everything else will fall into place. For the most part, it has been a successful equation for me. However, this past season I had set several audacious goals only to have them taken away from me before I could ever even line up.

This season the timeline went a little something like this:
1. 24 hrs of Big Bear National Championships Cancelled.
2. National 24hr Series Dissolved to one race.
3. 24 hrs of Nine Mile Cancelled
4. New Promoter picks up 24hrs of Nine Mile and it’s back on
5. New Promoter cancels 24hrs of Nine Mile again
6. Consider returning to 24hrs of Hot August Nights but opt to race 24hrs of Mohican to attempt to set the course record
7. Register for 24hrs of Mohican and began getting focused
8. 24hrs of Mohican Cancelled

Although I never did get a crack at any of my audacious goals, I did have a pretty decent season posting 8 total wins and 14 podium finishes. I can’t complain too much but as my season draws to an end; my racing satiation has been left a bit empty.

My teammate, Dana Baurhenn, had also been working on achieving her own lofty goals this season. Being naturally drawn, as well as gifted, at endurance MTB racing she also signed up to race 24 hrs of Mohican solo. We had planned to share our support crew for the event and make the trip down together to support each other as teammates. However, our ambitions were crushed when we got word that Mohican was cancelled mere weeks before the event. We were both left pleading question, “Where do we go from here”.
My loyal family support crew

There were a few local Michigan endurance events left on the calendar; 24 hrs of Hanson Hills and 12 hrs of Addison Oaks. Dana decided to take her maiden solo crack at 24hrs of Hanson Hills of which she won quite handsomely.

As Addison Oaks neared, I conjured the idea to race on a 2 person team with Dana and go for the win amongst the other non-coed teams. It seems only natural as we were both mourning the loss of the race opportunity Mohican had once presented. She agreed to the idea and we got to work planning out the logistics for race day.

All in all, the race was a complete success! We scored the WIN, did not fall victim to any mechanicals or crashes, and completed 24 laps, the same amount as the winning 4-man teams. Both Dana and I rode extremely consistent keeping most of our lap times within minutes of each other.

While neither of us were able to chase and catch our dreams this season, we were able to practice what the true meaning of “Team” means and keep each other motivated at the tail end of a season, which isn't always easy to do.

Thanks again to all my family and friends who came out to support the event!
Congrats to fellow teammate Robert Herrimen for dominating the solo category with an impressive 166miles in 23 laps!

For full results, click here.

Rhonde Van Stony

2010-09-28T18:13:00.000-07:00

Blazing fast double track, challenging power grade climbs, dirt roads, three cleverly named cash prems, and free beer from Kuhnhenn brewery = instant fall classic!!!

If you missed this race, make sure it is on your calendar for next year as it is only going to get bigger and better!

A few months back, Clint Verran contacted to me ask me if I’d be interested in racing the first inaugural Rhonde Van Stony Classic Dirt Road Race free of charge in an effort to spark some enthusiasm towards the race amongst the local cycling world. He may of also mentioned free beer in the equation as well. My response; “you had me at free and beer”.

As race day neared my excitement for the race grew. This past Thursday I pre-rode the course and became even increasingly stoked. The big topic of debate leading up to this race was what steed would be the optimal tool for the job. The race had a few sketchy descents that a MTB would gain an advantage on but on the flipside the majority of the race was held on dirt roads where as the minimized rolling friction and larger gearing ratios of a CX bike would be an advantage. I opted to race a CX bike, which turned out to be the weapon of choice this day.

The race started with a brief neutralized roll out and quickly entered the first 2.5 miles of double track which initiated the first selection of riders. I decided to take a “play it safe” approach and front run this section in the top 3 spots as their were 140 other riders charging behind me. Tim Saari, a definite potential victor for the day, experienced a mechanical on the first effort of the day which knocked him out of the front running selection. It was an unfortunate incident as Tim has displayed this CX season that he has the horse power to make people hurt very badly early on in a race.

Prem #1

The first person out of the double track section earned the first prem of the day. I was most interested in going for the win so I didn’t go out with the intentions of going for this prem. However, I quickly found myself in a neck and neck sprint with Danny Klein. We both agreed it was too close to call without a camera. Danny, being a good friend, decided to give it to me.

As the race went on, I found my form feeling pretty good and my power increasing. We whittled our front group down to 7 riders with a second chase group charging after us. In the interest of keeping the 1 to 7 odds, I maintained a pretty high tempo at the front of our group to ensure we stayed away.

Prem #2

The second prem came at the top of Parks Rd., which is commonly referred to as Paris Rd. because of a discretion in the road sign. Feeling strong, I pressed this climb and found myself snagging yet another prem.

The day was going well but I was getting antsy to shed some of the dead weight from our group. On the last significant road climb of the day I discretely attacked the group and found myself with an instant gap joined by Clint Verran, recent elite runner turned cyclist. We only had about 6 miles left in the race and with the exception of one last double track section, it was mostly downhill. Clint and I worked in cohesive synergy and quickly rode the remaining chasing group out of sight. As we entered the final trail section I knew I had to take him one on one and try to exploit his weakness; handling skills in the trails. Being a national caliber marathon runner, Clint may be able to run sub 5-minute miles for hours on end, but I was confident I had the upper hand on him in the trails. My assumption was correct as I rolled away from him and was able to ride steady tempo for the reminder of that section slowly putting distance between us.

Prem #3

There was one last prem available after leaving the final trail section that I was able to pick up without contest. From there on out I was able to simply settle into a personal rhythm and spend the last two miles intrinsically giving thanks for the win before rolling into the finishing straights.

As I rolled into the finish line relaxed and calm, the hands went up and I took time to really soak in the victory. This doesn’t happen too often as most of my wins are by mere seconds. Whenever I get the treat of winning a race in this fashion I take time to reflect on those who I love in my life and the loved ones I’ve lost and meditate on the reasons I race a bike in the first place. These moments are rare, they only come a few times a season if you’re lucky; I regard them as sacred.

Click HERE for full results.

Ice Ice Baby: Verse 1-Stop...Collaborate and Listen

2010-09-10T13:28:00.000-07:00

Finkelstein is back with a 2010 edition. Same time, same place...new and improved route.

It's Coming...

2010-09-07T15:24:00.000-07:00

Are you ready for this year's Fat Tire Fight Club? If you're in the know, make sure you show...because it's always worth the price of admission.

My First Master's Race

2010-09-05T20:25:00.000-07:00

The 2010 Tour di Via Italia was good to me this year! I can get used to this old man racing.

A Recipe for New Ink.

2010-08-26T09:45:00.000-07:00

Getting a tattoo is a deeply personal experience. People’s motives for this can be quite vast. I never thought much about getting any tattoos in my lifetime. This may be the reason it wasn’t until I was thirty that I got my first one. Tattoos are permanent landmarks in time. I got my first tattoo 6 weeks after my brother passed away. I wanted a permanent reminder of what his presence in my life had meant to me and how I wanted to strive to live my life from that day forward. I decided to keep the placement of that tattoo concealed mainly because it was something that was just for me.

As the cliché goes, it’s hard to only get one tattoo. One of my summer projects this year was to get some new artwork done that was not just for me but also for everyone. I wanted a piece that spoke of who I was. Below is what I came up with. There are several metaphorical layers to this one. The bike cog represents my passion, not simply for cycling but the idea that I am a person of passion. The anatomically correct heart represents that my passion is what makes my heart strong and helps me to be the person I want to be. The background wings follow the contour of a Corvette logo. My brother had an immense passion for Corvettes. He was one of those lucky people that get to have their passion and occupation overlap. He achieved this by following his heart. When you put it all together you have the recipe for what makes me happy and that’s why I decided I wanted to carry this recipe around with me all the time.

One of the most important lessons I’ve come to love about tattoos is the undeniable truth that you are a product of the decisions you make in life and that they follow you wherever you go…shaping who you are.

Days 3-7 of 700 in 7: The Belated Ride Denouement Report

2010-08-03T10:39:00.000-07:00

I apologize for the tardiness of this entry but it seems that when you hit the pause button on life to roll 40 plus hours in one week on the bike a tidal wave of postponed responsibilities comes crashing down on you as soon as you cross the finish line. Nonetheless, I’ve had a week to mentally digest this experience and I’m ready to pass it along to you.

I’d like to first start by sincerely thanking all of those who donated to this cause. Before I started this ride, the Make-A-Wish foundation was purely a conceptual idea to me. It wasn’t until I was fortunate enough to listen to the stories of so many people and feel the support of everyone who was behind me in this endeavor that I was able to see that what I was doing was something tangible and worthwhile. No matter how big or small your donation, the gesture of your support was a major contributing factor toward me keeping the cranks turning throughout this week of attrition. Although I was the one completing the miles on my bike, this event was not about me, it was about the children who have to live with fear that they can’t even understand at such a young age. Make-A-Wish is able to provide something to these children that even the best of doctors cannot; this something is hope, excitement and joy amidst life-threatening situations. Furthermore, Make-A-Wish does not only positively affect the child but also the family unit as a whole. Your support toward this cause allows families throughout the world to improve their quality of life even when it is limited through something as simple and magical as a wish. With your help, I was able to raise $2300 in a little less than a month. This has me excited to see how much higher I can raise the bar next year.

Day 3:

My first 320 miles were ridden alone. I didn’t really plan for this, it just kind of happened. However, in retrospect I’m happy that it turned out that way as I realize it was a blessing. Everyone has his or her own way of grieving the loss of a loved one. I’m discovering that figuring out constructive methods to do this can be extremely challenging and confusing. I’ve also realized that this journey is not a start and end format either but rather an ongoing process that becomes part of the core fabric of who you are as a person. So far throughout my own process riding my bike has been my most comfortable psychiatric chair. These first three days of riding in solitude helped for me to center my thoughts and reflect on certain emotions I have felt over the past year or so. I was hoping for this experience to be a cathartic one and it indeed was. Nonetheless, after riding three days alone, I was ready to welcome company on day four.

Day 4: Solitude Ends

Cullen Watkins and I met up at 6:00 in the morning to head toward Birch Run where an illustrious 40-ft RV, courtesy of the generosity of Jeff Surnow, was going to pick us up in style and proceed toward Traverse City. Despite not having much of a pre-determined route in place we were able to link together some great dirt roads and double track that ended up eventually dumping us out onto Dixie Highway in Flint. We reached Birch Run a little after 12:00 and with 100 miles in our legs resulting in a week total of 420 so far.

We were greeted by some great company in the RV. As the trip rolled on, I realized that although it was my first time meeting many of these people we were going to all become good friends by the end of the weekend. Whenever you are thrown into a new social situation a common ingredient that is an extremely effective catalyst in unifying the group is beer! I can honestly say that by the time we reached Traverse City, our group had become one!

Day 5: The WAM Begins

You can take the racer out of a race but you cannot take the race out of the racer. Mind you, this event is a tour. It is not designed for personal glorification or ego feeding. However, when you have 800 plus riders starting at one point, heading in the same direction, and ending at the same point…it kind of becomes a race to me regardless of the rides motive, I guess it’s just in my blood. “Look at that guy…He’s on a single speed mountain bike…he must not have ever done this before…just wait until the end, he’ll be suffering”. Echoes of these sentiments rolled off the tongues of everyone I came in contact with this day. Soon after the ride began I started searching for road wheels to follow and tuck behind until they tinkered out. I spoke with many of the riders, as they all asked me, “Why are you on a single speed mountain bike”? My most common answer was, “I’m a glutton for punishment”. I would then proceed to inform them that I started the day with 420 miles in my legs already and plan to roll 700 for the week. I should also mention, I was not alone in this single speed venture. Cullen Watkins, who first pitched the idea, and Jeff Surnow, were also limited to fat tires and one cog for the weekend. News spread quickly amongst the participants and we became known as “The Deranged and Insane Mountain Bikers” for the rest of the weekend.

After about 60 miles of riding for the day I stopped in at an aid station and they announced to me that I was the first person through for the day. I was leading the ride…not that it’s a race of course. At around mile 85 two-road bikers blazed by me and I put in an effort to stay on their wheel. The two riders were a fellow Wolverine and Blair Dudley who is a very accomplished road racer. They kept the pace high and dragged me to end the day rolling in as the first three finishers. Soon after we completed, I was able to sit down and talk with Blair and his involvement with Make-A-Wish. Turned out, his daughter received a wish in 2003. He went onto explain how the experience of this changed his life dramatically which even lead to a career change to the healthcare field as well as seven years of participation in the WAM. Again, his story contributed to my conceptual view becoming even more tangible.

That evening we had a Team Alex party in our hotel. Bill and Susie Graham graciously provided the team with food and beverage and thanked us all for honoring the life of their daughter through our efforts. That night I decided to share my story in front of the entire team as to why I wound up at WAM this year. I only made it a few sentences into my speech before I was overcome with tears. I had delivered a speech at my brother’s funeral that I managed to make it through collected. However, this evening as I shared my story aloud it began to become much more real for me. I thought about Bill and Susie losing Alex, and I thought about everyone’s story in the room and my emotions overtook me. At the end of my story, many people approached me. Despite the difficulty of sharing this with everyone it was ultimately a good thing for me and I realized I was amongst friends and supporters.

Day 6: Atonement through Suffering

As we rolled out at 5:45am as a group, we all realized we were going to get wet this day. The forecast did not look favorable and there were even grumblings amongst the organizers that the ride could get shut down today due to severe thunderstorms. Immediately I became fearful that my 700-mile goal could be in jeopardy so I adopted the mentality that if I rode fast enough I could outrun the weather. I didn’t exactly end up outrunning the weather but I did end up avoiding some severe thunderstorms and finished the ride with 118 miles for the day and again, arriving in the front group.

I’ll admit, this day was not a fun day in the saddle. We battled torrential downpours all day long. Under any other circumstances I probably would of thrown in the towel. However, the thought of meeting our wish kids at the finish line the next day and the realization of the suffering they have had to endure kept the wheels turning all day.

That evening was the WAM Awards Banquet in which they honor the riders, share the event history, and entertain a very tired crowd. To my surprise, I won the award for the most surprising stunt of the weekend. As I said, word traveled fast amongst the riders of my 700-mile week. Also, being a part of Team Alex, we were awarded with the Top Earning Team Award collectively raising just over $202,000, which equates to roughly 30 wishes being granted. I felt very honored to be a part of that figure and overwhelmed that in today’s economic climate, Team Alex was able to achieve this.

Day 7: Completion

There are many experiences in life that are so great in the moment but are forgotten with time. However, every so often you experience something that is great in the moment but once you’ve had time to reflect on it, you realize that it was truly amazing. The last day of WAM was such a day for me.

Make-A-Wish is a truly a unique charity in the sense that you get to meet the children your efforts have directly affected. While the root of charity is helping others out unconditionally and without necessary acknowledgement, I believe this unique characteristic of Make-A-Wish is reciprocally beneficial to both those fundraising and those receiving. Perhaps that’s why so many of the Make-A-Wish Kids become employees of the foundation later in life. The opportunity to meet those directly affected by your efforts puts hope in your own heart but also allows the Wish children to realize that there is a community of people fighting for them and supporting them through their adversity. It allows them to understand that they do not have to face fear alone.

The simple words “Thank You” that came from the mouths of the Wish Kids that day is still resonating in my head. It was during these moments of gratuity from the children that the conceptual truly became the tangible and I realized that I will seize the opportunity to participate in WAM for as long as my body enables me to.

I ultimately ended the week with 730 miles total, 30 miles above my goal. However, the week wasn’t about the miles…it was about something more. Much to my surprise, it ended up resulting in even more than I could of ever anticipated. Again, thank you to everyone who financially supported this as you all share a piece of this experience.

Day 2 of 700 in 7: Giving Thanks

2010-07-21T06:45:00.000-07:00

It’s still pretty early in the week but I must say, my legs are holding up pretty well so far. Also, I’ve had an overwhelming amount of motivation to keep the wheels moving forward. Today that motivation materialized itself into a bit of bonus miles as I rolled some extra credit and came in at 120 miles for the day with a ride time of 6hrs 58min.

Most often, my rides have some sort of training objective (i.e. active recovery, intervals, hills, tempo, base miles, race tune-ups, etc.) However, this week is not about training to me…in fact, it’s not even so much about the ride at all, but rather something more.

Last week I taught in a classroom composed of severely multiply impaired students. All of the students were in wheelchairs and non-ambulatory. Many of them had to eat through feeding tubes in their stomach, and they were almost all not able to communicate verbally. Their ages ranged from 6 to 10 years old. It’s easy for us to feel bad for this population. We tend to compare our own life experiences to what they will never be able to experience. However, I noticed that many of these students still experienced happiness and joy; it was simply in a different form than what we are accustomed to. I observed one student who would laugh and smile simply by hearing certain music he liked or feeling something tactile that he enjoyed.

Although these students may never be able to function without assistance, their role in their caretaker’s lives is still very symbiotic.

As I rode today, I reflected on my often taken for granted, simple ability to ride a bicycle. At one point I found myself lost in my thoughts, looking down at my legs pumping rhythmically and harmoniously with my machine, and I began to think about those students I worked with last week. A wave of gratitude came over me and I became so thankful for the gift of personal health and ability.

I must admit that although the main objective of this journey is to raise money for Make-A-Wish, my initial motives could still be considered a bit self-serving. I thought it would be a healthy cathartic way to grieve over lost loved ones and an excuse to ride 700 miles in one week.

Last night after my ride, Angela and I attended the Team Alex Pre-WAM party. After listening to some of the veteran riders testimonials of meeting the Wish Kids on the last day of the tour I began to realize that it is going to be a difficult task to finish the week with a dry eye. Although, my efforts are focused towards helping these children’s wishes come true, I have a feeling they will be giving back just as much to me through their inspiration.

It’s not so much about the miles or the ride but just simply giving thanks.

Day 1 of 700 in 7: Remembering My Inspiration

2010-07-19T19:53:00.000-07:00

When speaking with a good friend, he suggested that my routes on this tour of duty should have some significance that relates to my motivation. So as I rolled out the door today for my first 100miles of 700 for the week I decided to go visit those whom I have lost and will be lifting me up this week.

In 2006, my brother Mark and His wife Renee had lost their little girl Rebekah shortly after birth. Make a Wish is all about providing a way to make children’s dreams come true. Although Rebekah never got this chance, it is in her honor that I will keep the wheels moving forward this week.

It's not too late to donate to my Make a Wish tour, just click here.

Ciociaro Race #7: "The Deal"

2010-07-09T06:41:00.000-07:00

Ray D: (phone call at 4:30pm) "The weather looks pretty nasty, have you checked it? Do you still think we should go?"

Me: "Yes"

Ray D: "Ok then...here's the deal, if we win...we go to Mexicantown. If we lose, we go to Mexicantown."

The result: We ended up at Mexicantown.

Ciociaro Race #6 "A Team Victory"

2010-06-29T07:22:00.000-07:00

When it comes to bike racing, devising a plan is never the most challenging part but rather successfully executing that plan.

"You will find men who want to be carried on the shoulders of others, who think that the world owes them a living. They don't seem to see that we must all lift together and pull together."
- Henry Ford

1st Tim Finkel
2nd Russel VanEvery
3rd Scott Kroske
4th John Sammut

When it's all said and done, it's really just about getting to kiss the girl.

Top Kroske Quotes of the evening:
1. Proclaimed from atop the podium: "You all should be ashamed of yourselves, letting a short, fat, bald, old man beat you!"
2. "My underwear looks like Mario Andretti did a burn out in them, I need to find a women who knows how to work the bleach!"

The victory cheers at Mexican Town...always worth the price of admission.

Help Me Make-a-Wish

2010-06-24T05:39:00.000-07:00

On March 3rd 2009, my 30th birthday, my life and my family’s life changed forever when my oldest Brother Don Finkel passed away unexpectedly.

I’ve been racing a bike for several years. Training and racing has always been one of my top priorities in my life. Losing my brother caused me to reevaluate everything that was important to me in my life. At one point, I considered simply stopping racing as a whole as it now seemed so trivial in the big picture.

My brother was an athlete and loved sports. He coached his three boy’s basketball, baseball, and football teams. He understood how sports could serve as a catalyst for self-improvement in all areas of life. I realized that my brother would have never wanted me to stop racing.

I must admit, racing is inherently a selfish endeavor. The time in the saddle and energy it consumes is simply focused toward personal gratification. This past winter, I decided I wanted to focus my training toward something that affects more than just my own ego. Make-a-Wish seemed to be the perfect organization and event.

Being a self-proclaimed “endurance junkie” I decided to embark in the 300 mile bicycle tour this July. However, in an effort to challenge myself a little more I decided to embark in my conception of “7 in 7 all for 1”.

This entails: 700 miles in 7 days and all on a single speed mountain bike.

It is my hope that this achievement will help to allow other people to realize their dreams, memorialize my brother, and provide great opportunities to others. Although I will be the only one peddling my bike, I will have many others who will be with me and lifting my spirits along the journey.

If you wish to donate, visit here.

You can also read more about my WAM team here.

Lumberjack 100 in 1

2010-06-20T07:25:00.001-07:00

I was introduced to the sport of cycling in the dirt. Albeit I was a weekend warrior, I rode nothing but trails; tarmac didn’t excite me much at the time. However, around 2000 or so the purchase of a CX bike to diversify my training lead me to the line of 7 years worth of skinny tired racing with neglect to my dirty roots.

In 2007 I decided to return to the dirt and try my hand at what I thought at the time to be monumentally impossible: 100 mile MTB racing. My maiden event was the Lumberjack 100. I had no idea what I was doing nor did I have any delusions of grandeur that I would be competitive amongst the sea of seasoned endurance junkies to the likes of Chris Eatough, Mike Simonson, Robert Herriman, Harlan Price, and so on. When I completed the Lumberjack in 2007 a sea of change began to surface from my psyche that lead me to mentally reevaluate what my conception of bike racing was. I had a marginal result at best, cracking the top 25, but found myself more personally gratified with this accomplishment than any other road race I had ever won or podiumed at. I viewed the race as an event; an experience if you will that went beyond my previously narrow notions of what racing was and what it meant to me. The distance and challenge alone forced me to learn something about myself.

This sea of change continued to grow and eventually lead me down the path of 12/24hr racing and mileage obsession. The time in the saddle became something more to me than just a means to a finish line but rather an educational journey in suffering that was more than worth the price of admission. Needless to say, this all started with the Lumberjack 100. I remember running into Mike Simonson just before the start the 2007 Lumberjack. He asked me how I was feeling and I replied, “I’m feeling like I probably bit off a bit more than I can chew”. He responded, “What? You were born to do this…have a good race”. Perhaps he knew something then that I didn’t know.

I hadn’t returned to the Lumberjack until this year. In this race’s 6th year, it sold out in less than 12 hrs. I consider myself lucky to of gotten a last minute entry. Returning to the sandy trails of Manistee, I considered myself to be much more experienced and seasoned than I was in 2007, I was ready and willing to be competitive.

Being deemed the Michigan Ultra Single Speed Championships, I decided to race on one gear. I have such a beautiful Gary Fisher Superfly SS, it would be a shame to never allow it to do what it does best: race. Being my first single speed 100miler, I went into the race wagering I was not going to be able to best the one-geared endurance stylings of Gerry Pflug (Salsa Bikes) or Matthew Ferrari (Freeze Thaw Cycles). However, I was confident I had a decent chance at finishing at the top of the Michigan racers in this category, which would crown me the Ultra Single Speed State Champion.

Prepping for this race made me realize the eternal mental struggle all Single Speeders go through…the ever-illusive “perfect gear ratio” for the job. I racked my brain for countless hours debating back and forth on what gear to run. I consulted with Harlan Price, Robert Herrimen, Cullen Watkins, Mike Simonson, and everyone who was within earshot of me in the days leading up to this event. I eventually went with a 58inch gear, which I tried out on all my local challenging climbs and it seemed doable. However, late Friday night just before the race, I decided to gamble and switch it to a slightly smaller gear (32-17), about a 54.5-inch gear. This gear seemed to be perfect. I was able to stay with the geared riders on the flats and able to power up almost all the climbs without any vital organs exploding.

Lap one was fast for me. I was sitting at the tail end of the chase train off the leaders. Pflug and Ferrari had made the cut up the road and I was content with this. I focused on simply trying to hang onto the train of geared riders I was with which was about the 9th-15th placed riders. My fellow teammate Jay Moncel, atop a geared Top Fuel did a great job of making sure I hung onto his wheel. He helped keep my pace high the first two laps and even stopped with me at an aid station so he could pace me back up to the group, I was grateful! However, sometime on lap 2, I managed to let two more single speeders slip away up the trail in an effort to allow myself to settle into a sustainable high pace that didn’t feel over my head. I could of followed them but was willing to take a gamble that I would only get faster and hopefully they would only get slower.

My gamble paid off as I managed to catch and pass Ron Sanborn, the 3rd place rider and highest placed Michigan Single Speeder, around mile 82. I watched him for a minute or so when I rolled up to him. I was feeling good and wanted to assess his current state before I attempted to pass him. After concluding that it seemed I had a bit more legs left in me than he did, I called a pass and tried to put the most convincing effort by him that communicated the notion I wasn’t worth chasing…I had too much left. This attack was very ill timed however. Soon after I got out of his sight I rolled to the last aid station of the day. I was completely without fluid, but was unwilling to stop for a feed with the fear he may catch me and we would have to have a shoot out in the final miles; this is something that is not my strength.

For the last 15 miles I went into suffer mode. I tried to silence my mind and not think about my lack of fluid or how bad my legs were hurting. I could of sworn there were more hills added in the last 15 miles than the previous laps. I dug deep into the motivational reserves and found the strength to try and defend my position until the line.

The gamble eventually paid off as I rolled in at a time of 7hrs 30min. and in 3rd place claiming the Michigan Ultra Single Speed title.

Being more prone to the 12/24 hour format of racing I admittedly haven’t figured out the 100 mile pacing yet. Typically, I go out too conservative and feel like I could keep racing at the finish if I had to. However, on this day, I wouldn’t have wanted to ride another mile. This left me with the content feeling that I left everything out on the trail. Whether I took first or last place, knowing this makes me satisfied with my effort.

Singlespeed Cat.
1 Gerry Pflug (Salsa/spk/pro Bikes)
2 Matthew Ferrari (Freeze Thaw Cycles-Hubcap Cycles)
3 Tim Finkel (Gary Fisher 29er Crew/WSC/ACFSTORES.Com)
4 Ron Sanborn (McLain Cycle & Fitness)
5 Jorden Wakeley (Racing Greyhounds)

Full results here.

Bigger and Better for 2011!

2010-06-16T11:48:00.001-07:00

Big news today...more big-wheeled gospel to spread...and even more stoke to invoke.

Check out all the action here.

Ciociaro

2010-06-11T05:57:00.001-07:00

Haven't rolled these circles in two years, man I missed this place. I love International racing.

Mohican 100

2010-06-08T09:26:00.000-07:00

"There is no such thing as bad weather only soft people"
-Bill Bowerman

In the case of the 2010 Mohican 100, this quote may be debatable. Perhaps the soft people may have been the smarter ones on a day like this. A mere 10 miles into this race I knew that simply finishing would be my win.

I need a little time to digest this one before a full report. In the meantime, check this out.

This is not a race report.

2010-06-02T09:48:00.001-07:00

Typically most of my travels wind me up at a bike race of some sort. However, this past weekend Angela and I went up to Boyne Mountain to begin the planning process of our wedding on July 30th, 2011 at Boyne. Coincidentally this trip was the same weekend as the 12/24 hours of Boyne. However, in an effort to save myself for the Mohican 100 and of course to dedicate my energy to Angela, I refrained from racing. I still managed to squeeze out quite a bit of trail riding but at “vacation” pace. I’ll save the race pace for this upcoming weekend.

I ended the weekend with the content feeling that sometimes the best experiences can actually be while out of the saddle.

It's the Middle that Counts

2010-05-18T11:58:00.001-07:00

“Love is stronger than death even though it can't stop death from happening, but no matter how hard death tries it can't separate people from love. It can't take away our memories either. In the end, life is stronger than death.”
-Author Unknown

There are two dates that are associated with an individual after they pass.
1. The day they were born.
2. The day they died.

However, I was once told by a teacher that, “it’s everything in the middle that counts”. Today would have been my brother’s 40th birthday. Although he is no longer physically with us, he remains in the hearts of so many people. The evidence of his influence being continually felt by so many today reminds me just how much he was able to make everything in the middle count the most he possibly could. It also reminds me daily to make sure I am making the most of the middle parts.

He continues to be a role model to me.

Happy Birthday Don! I miss and love you.

12 hrs of Stony Creek

2010-05-17T17:58:00.000-07:00

A good friend of mine and Ironman athlete once told me, “you race your first Ironman to conquer it and embrace the feeling, you race every race after that to chase that feeling you once had your first time”. I mention this quote because I feel it is applicable to 12/24 hour solo mountain bike racing as well. The first time you muster the gumption to set your sights high and roll to the line of a 24hr race you don’t know what’s in store for you. Your anxiety and anticipation of the unknown lead to your excitement. You are seeking to discover just how far you are able to push yourself, to meet your limits face to face, and to push beyond those limits. When you finally achieve this accomplishment you are initially consumed by newly discovered elation and emotion you have never felt before. However, much like any addictions, this high leads you begging to answer the question, “what’s next”? You’ve surprised yourself, proved you can overcome what was once thought of as insurmountable adversity, and now you want to do it again…only BETTER!

WARNING: This mentality/realization/vision quest can lead to one of two things:
1. Debilitating disappointment
2. Success that leads to the perpetuation of the same question, “what’s next”?

Last season I raced two 12-hour races and won them both without contest. However, despite my second place podium spot at the 2010 12hrs of Stony Creek, I am personally more proud and satisfied with this result than any of my previous 12hr wins. Why?...because I was able to discover that I could go further than what I previously thought was possible.

Healthy competition amongst teammates can be a great thing when there is a mutual respect. Robert Herrimen and Mike Simonson are both Gary Fisher 29er Crew teammates of mine that have lengthy career resumes with several solid finishes and wins. The result of all of us showing up to the same line was a symbiotic success.

My previous 12-hour race distance record was 140 miles. Thanks to the motivation of my fellow 29er Crew comrades we were all able to achieve 161 miles of trail mayhem that boasted 1000 feet of climbing per lap. In addition were we able to not only claim a 1st and 2nd place victory in the 30-39 solo category and a 1st in the 40+ category, but we managed to all complete 14 laps and also claim the 1st, 2nd and 3rd spots in the overall results, including the teams.

Yes, it’s true this race was a quest to strive for that aforementioned feeling of my first endurance event. Much to my surprise, I managed to create a new feeling of elation as I discovered I could push beyond my previous limitations. However, due to my healthy dosage of lactic acid in my legs currently, I plan on simply savoring this one for a while and waiting a bit before I eventually ask that inevitable question, “What’s Next”?

I’d like to give a special thanks to my family and friends that showed up to support me for this event. Your love and words of encouragement during the race served as great mental race fuel. I love you all!

Check out race footage here

Peaks and Valleys

2010-05-11T06:29:00.000-07:00

The past four days have been a bit busy in terms of racing. I’ve always said that racing can bring you from your highest of highs to lowest of lows…well…I wasn’t quite at my highest this past weekend and I wasn’t quite at my lowest either. However, there were many peaks and valleys.

Race 1: May 7th Waterford Hills Thursday Night Worlds

Ok, so the WSC may have had the dominant numbers in this field. However, success is success and a win is a win. Being my first win of the 2010 season, I was stoked to take it.

There was a bit of a reversal of team roles in the air as we saw a solo flyer from our Cat. 3 sprinter Ricardo Cotto and myself, being deemed more of a breakaway horse head ended up taking the field sprint for the win (thanks to a stellar lead-out from junior Brett Beddow)in addition to the ever so coveted Beer Growler Prime. I guess if your team is going to have the numbers tipped in your favor, you better finish well. Indeed we did claiming 1st, 2nd (Luke Cavender), 4th (K-Man), and 5th (Jay Moncel) along with all four primes up for grabs.

Nonetheless, this race was nothing more than a prequel for the havoc that was sure to ensue with TOKV and Cone Azalia falling on the same weekend this year.

Race 2: May 9th Tour of Kensington Valley

This year, TOKV boasted winds that I have never raced in before in my life coupled with some low temps and a dash of intermittent precipitation. All of these variables added together equaled a minimally motivated Finkelstein. I equated the experience to riding behind a fan boat for 3.5 hours. However, despite missing the winning break I still hung strong to the finish only to flub up the sprint. I managed to squeak out an 11th place, which was still good for a slice of the prize purse albeit a small one.

Race 3: May 10th Cone Azalia

Going into this race as a 2009 podium finisher I was very motivated to try and have a repeat good showing. Sometimes all the motivation in the world can be reduced to a pile of ruble due to mechanical difficulties. It seems my choice to try out tubulars this year was a bad one as I flatted a mere 6 min into the 75-mile race. Cone Azalia is several parts luck and a few parts skill. While my skill may have been present, my luck was not.

Other than sound tire choice, I did learn something about myself. After the wheel car took several minutes to reach me I realized that the loss of time I had on the field was an insurmountable amount and that my race was over. I screamed a few words that should never come out of my mouth on Mother’s Day as I rolled through the gravel in solitude. My intentions were to finish the lap and simply call it a day while I watched the race transpire from the sidelines. However, after I finished lap 1 I found myself rolling out for another one without giving it too much thought. I wasn’t racing for anything at this point; I was simply riding my bike. While I rolled lap 2 I decided that upon finishing this lap I was going to throw in the towel and quit. Once again, for some reason, I rolled out for a 3rd lap. This trend continued until I finally finished the 75 miles and 7 laps in solitude and out of the money.

It wasn't pride that kept me from stopping, it wasn’t my ego, it wasn’t the hope that something unforeseeable like a train might slow the field down and I could catch back on, and it wasn’t the hope that perhaps I may still crack the top 15 and get paid. My persistence came from somewhere deeper. I was searching for something but I’m not sure what. Perhaps it was fear that kept me going, or grief. Although I love racing and “playing the game of bike racing” it is all simply a bi-product of my love to ride a bicycle. If I were to be told tomorrow that I could never race another bike race again I would probably go out and ride more than I do now.

George Sheehan once said in an essay titled Why Do I Run, “I run everyday to not lose the me I was yesterday and the me I might become tomorrow”. I suppose this is true for me, I ride to preserve the person I was yesterday and to secure the person I want to be tomorrow.

I may of been DFL but I refused to DNF.

The Lessons of Cohutta

2010-04-27T10:54:00.000-07:00

“But there is suffering in life, and there are defeats. No one can avoid them. But it's better to lose some of the battles in the struggles for your dreams than to be defeated without ever knowing what you're fighting for.”

-Paulo Coelho

My most sincere appeal to endurance mountain biking are the lessons in humility that come about from it. No matter how on top of your game you are, you can always be knocked down to size. Endurance cycling promotes the stripping of self-indulgent ego feeding and calls you to look inward. As a result, this introspective glimpse allows for an outpouring of everyday life applications in other facets. I cannot speak for all endurance junkies, but for me, this is what it’s all about.

The 2010 Cohutta 100 was a healthy dosage of humility for all its participants. With everyday rain drop, lightning bolt, thunder crack, elevation change, and position battle, it proved to be well worth the price of admission. Every race has its variables, be it stronger riders, challenging terrain, ominous weather. Cohutta this year seems to have all of the above.

Amongst the 133 elite open finishers of this race I managed to squeeze out a 16th place. Initially I was a bit discontent with the result but all in all I am satisfied and content that the venture was worth while.

Sometime around mile 80 or so when I was descending at 40 mph in loose gravel with lighting and thunder surrounding me and squinting my eyes to try and keep the mud and rain from severely distorting my vision I distinctly remember thinking to myself, “In this moment, I am alive”.

Photos soon to some…

Props to fellow Michigan riders Mike Simonson, Christian Tanguy, Greg Kuhn, and Robert Herrimen for representing that despite optimal resources, physical and intestinal fortitude is strong in the Motor City!!!

6WC: Losing to Win

2010-04-12T11:56:00.000-07:00

Ray Dybowski once gave me the following advice. It has single handedly been some of the most sound advice anyone could ever give me when it comes to racing a bicycle. These are words that are easily said than done when amidst a race moment of frustration and self-doubt. However, equipped with my lessons of the past I was able to heed these words on April 3rd, 2010 in Wilkesboro, NC at the second annual 6 hours of Warrior Creek.

Don't quit: I've had a number of good finishes in races that seemed to be completely out of my control. They go down in my journal as epic. You keep picking up the cards that are dealt to you, play them, sometimes they turn into the winning hand. Sometimes you have to hang in long enough for the race to come to your level, if you don't quit you will be happy when it does, maybe even epic!

I must say that the BMCC is officially off to something great with this race. In only its second year, the 6 hours of Warrior Creek has sold out, even necessitating the promoters to open 75 extra spots this year. The elite open category alone this year boasted 104 participants!

Wilkesboro is a beautiful community in the foothills of North Carolina located amongst a network of several solid trail systems. Warrior Creek’s trails are fast and furious filled with high burms and a few challenging rock gardens. After pre-riding the course the Friday prior to the race I categorized it as “Helltrack on crack”.

The morning of the race was a beautiful 65 degrees which was a pleasant treat after the cold winter in Michigan. As I sat at the line I looked back and marveled at the sea of 375 riders extending back behind me. The start of the race was ballistic to say the least. In an effort to string the field out, the promoters designed the first lap to have a few miles of hilly road terrain which catered to my road skills. I was pleased to enter the holeshot into the trail sitting second wheel behind Eddie Odea of the Ergon Team. I held his wheel for that entire lap until we finally whittled the 375 rider field down to 4 riders.

During the first few miles of the second lap our group turned to three riders, one of which was Aaron Oakes who was the returning race champion of 2009. I knew I was with the group to be in but we were all attacking each other just a bit more than I desired at that time. Remembering the lessons of the tortoise and the hare I started to think about dropping back and settling into my own rhythm. Just as that thought passed, I found myself hitting the ground hard. The two remaining riders took off before I had time to pick myself back up. Fortunately, I was able to settle into a rhythm after this and maintain my third place position.

On lap four I was pleasantly surprised to see that I had reeled Aaron Oakes back in. As I passed him he did not put up much of a fight to stay on my wheel. I later found out that he had pulled out of the race on that lap. I was now sitting in second and was comfortable and happy with my positioning.

I knew the race was going to be won with six laps and that most likely they would be completed in sub-6 hour fashion. As I rolled out on my sixth lap, I was right on schedule to finish in sub-6 hours. Angela had informed me that starting the lap I was a mere minute off the first place rider Nathan Wyatt. As I rolled that lap I begin to hit a wall in the first few miles. However, after taking in a GU, I was able to regain composure and I could feel my speed pick up. I was gaining hope that there was still a good chance I could win the race in epic form.

There are few things worse than the dreaded sound of a bike tire instantly fizzing to flat during a bike race. The tool that was once ripping you around the course in synergistic harmony is quickly reduced to nothing more than a 23lb weight. Unfortunately with a mere 5 miles to go in the race I had to experience this sound. I was devastated; everything was going according to plan. As I unsuccessfully struggled to get my tire to reseal, I watched the dreaded third placed rider, Andy Applegate ride by me.

There are points in a race in which your confidence can go to self doubt within a virtual instant, this was one of them. I thought for sure I had lost my podium spot. I knew there was a road crossing up ahead and I pondered simply throwing in the towel and DNFing. However, from past experience I knew that the result of knowing I quit a race when I could have finished would not be worth the mental torment that would ensue afterward. After much mental dispute, I pulled out my extra tube and CO2 and got to work. It’s amazing how the simple act of changing a tire during a stressful race situation can make you struggle and wrestle with it so much more than usual. I finally managed to get the new tube in after spilling Stan’s No Tubes all over me. As I went to fill up the tire I noticed that my tube didn’t have a valve core in it. At this point I reevaluated once again quitting.

Sometimes you just have to beg, borrow, or steal to get what you want…in this instance I choose the first. I sat on the side of the trail and begged each passing rider atop a 29er if they had a tube I could borrow. Eventually, a very gracious single speed rider passed me a tube. I quickly changed and was on my way. However, I only had enough CO2 left to fill about 10 PSI in my tire which resulted in a slow last five miles whenever the trail turned or came upon some rock gardens.

Eventually I passed the line, 13 minutes off of first, but somehow managed to hold onto my third place position. Andy Applegate who had overtaken me during my mechanical was a mere 3 minutes off of first. I couldn’t help but fixate on the “what ifs”. As I rolled through; I had tears of frustration in my eyes.

After I deescalated and had some time to ponder my achievement I became increasingly satisfied with my result. I could have easily quit when things didn’t go my way and lost a podium spot. I remembered Ray’s quote and ended the day with the feeling that I had done something epic.

If putting on a well-organized, well attended great race with a great course was not enough for the BMCC, they hosted a great after party in which I was able to meet many 29er Crew members I had only previously read about. Two of which were Brent Lester and Tommy Rodgers who Angela and I had ended up staying with that evening in a beautiful mountain top cabin, with a view that as Brent described it “didn’t suck” courtesy of the generosity of one of Brent’s clients. The evening consisted of many celebratory Oat Sodas as well as some great conversations circling around the two-wheeled passion we all shared. The next day we arose and went for a 2 hour hike to top off the weekend. I really look forward to having the chance to hang out with these guys in the future…Perhaps ICEMAN guys?...That is an invite to all.

Check out the race footage HERE

It's not Belgium, but it sure hurts like it.

2010-03-29T18:28:00.000-07:00

I made the pilgrimage back to my old stomping grounds this weekend in preparation for the sufferfest that is Barry Roubaix. In only it’s second year this race boasted a 700 plus field, which made for some deep talent. This race is officially a big deal in the style of an old Belgian Spring Classic.

Race Cliff Notes: This one hurt more than any race ever has in March. I suffered. I had to dig deep several times. I made “the selection” but was all out of moves with 3 miles to go. Wound up 15th overall in a field of very talented riders. Ended the day realizing I have some work to do ahead of me. Nonetheless, the cobwebs have been blown off and the season has been opened.

Congrats to fellow 29er Crew Team Mate Mike Anderson who kept the crew represented for a second year in a row on the podium.

Looking forward to this upcoming weekend!

Worth Noting

2010-03-29T14:10:00.000-07:00

Ever since my inception into this sport, it has never ceased to amaze me to observe the eclectic group that is drawn to it that otherwise may have never cross paths. I have had the privilege to race against Rashaan in the past and feel his objective is an honorable one. Although a typically generalized group, cyclists transcend socio-economic statuses, race, and region. Ones success in the sport is always a direct correlation to their hard work and dedication.

My vicarious sentiments…

2010-03-23T09:47:00.000-07:00

I’ve been at a loss for words to describe my feelings after hearing about the cancellation of the 24hr National Championships at Big Bear as well as the 24hrs of Nine Mile. Both events were major goals on my schedule this season. It’s one thing to aim for a target and miss, but to have the entire target completely yanked from your site is a bit devastating. I’ve wanted to write out my reaction to all of this for sometime now but just couldn’t find the energy or correct articulations. However, I stumbled upon this video today and ironically Hitler has concisely summed up my emotions on the subject.

Anticipation…Elation…It’s the most wonderful time of the year.

2010-03-10T17:35:00.000-08:00

I rolled out my door this past Saturday morning with lofty goals in mind. The weather was right which lead me to attempt the 126-mile jaunt from Royal Oak to Waterford to Fenton to Macomb by 5:00 for a family party. My steed of choice was my new Superfly SS. I was geared at around a 62-inch gear amidst a sea of elite riders on gears. I couldn’t help but think this was a bit of a suicide mission, but alas what doesn’t kill us only makes us stronger.

As I flew solo to meet The Godfather at his home in Waterford, I was riddled with anticipation/enthusiasm that this would be the first ride of the year in which “the gloves were officially off”. I’ve spent all winter rolling around at social paces in the snow, ice, and bitter cold. However, today marked the beginning of camaraderie-induced seasonal warfare. Although my single-minded choice of bike was much like bringing a knife to a gunfight, I was quite confident that I have been on top of my game this off-season and have been enhancing my ability to dodge bullets.

I arrived at The Godfather’s house at 10:00am to be greeted by his famous sustained energy “Ray-McMuffin”. We sat and ate breakfast while I discussed my current mental and physical state as well as aspirations for 2010. Ray then looked at me and commented, “You know, the next two weeks are always my favorite and special time of the race season”. He went on to further explain how this is much of a calm before the storm. The foundations have been laid. The work has been done. New seasonal equipment has been ordered/obtained and it’s now time to see where the chips fall. What return are we going to get on our investment?

Some of my early season targets are Barry Roubaix, 6hrs of Warrior Creek, Cohutta 100, and ultimately the 24hr National Championships: 24hrs of Big bear.

I fully concur with Ray’s sentiments. This time of the year marks a new beginning, a clean slate. No longer should we revel on our past victories nor fixate on any previous failed expectations. This time of year marks a distinctive period of forward thinking.

What finish lines are you beginning with in mind? What goals and targets will you aim for? A wise man once said, you are only as good as your next race.

As our ride transpired and the miles/hours ticked away I was pleased to ride with many seasonal comrades who I hadn’t ridden with during the banes of the winter. Selle, Joberon, and Tom K. were all riders I hadn’t saw since November and I was pleased to draw motivation off our synergistic movements and conversations as well as their lung busting multiple gears to mash.

All in all the day ended with the unanimous gesture that in the words of O’Shea Jackson (aka Ice Cube) “Today was a good day”. I had rolled just over 125 miles in 7hrs flat and was able to gain some early season confidence that I am pleased with my form right now. So for right now, I am going to savor the next two weeks.

Remnants of my Past

2010-03-08T17:46:00.000-08:00

Many people who interact with me on a daily basis and are people whom I consider very close comrades have no idea that at one point in my life I made a living traveling around and playing with a yo-yo. This is no joke! Before all of my efforts and energy were channelled into turning the cranks over, I got paid to perform yo-yo shows for all ages. It was a lucrative gig and I can truly say I lived the dream. I think the only thing that can top it would be getting paid to roll around on two-wheels day in and day out.

Recently, American Cycle and Fitness decided to exploit my random talents and put together some entertainment for Travis Ott (Marketing Director at Gary Fisher) and the rest of the gang from Fisher Bikes/Trek.

Below are some of the highlights of the shenanigans that ensued…enjoy. Special props goes out to anyone who can guess the origin of the soundtrack.

A Day of Reverence

2010-03-03T06:28:00.000-08:00

(February 21st, 2009 Mark Finkel, Myself, Don Finkel)

It’s hard to believe that today, my birthday, marks the day in which I lost my brother and dear friend.

I never realized until recently that time has the ability to simultaneously completely stop yet pass at a speed that is impossible to keep up with.

Below is the eulogy I wrote and delivered at Don’s funeral. I was at a loss of what to write today, but I think this says it all for me. I am honored to share this day with him forever.

As a child, I always looked up to my brother, both metaphorically and literally. At Don’s height and being 9 years younger than him, I had no choice. Also, as an 8 year old, its pretty hard not to idolize a guy who drove a shiny red Camaro, was a starting basketball player, and dated the quintessential beautiful blonde girl. I can remember going to basketball games at Lutheran North and walking around the gymnasium proudly announcing to anyone within ear shot that the tall guy playing forward with Finkel on the back of his jersey was my brother. I wanted to strive to be like him, to walk in his footsteps. And if anyone were to choose what footsteps to follow in, my brother Don’s were an honorably worthy choice.

As I approached adolescence our interests and similarities seemed to diverge, or so I thought. Our priorities were different as well as our lives.

Recently, both my brothers and I helped move my parents up north to Port Hope, MI were they would settle for their happy life of retirement. We had really only planned on helping load the moving truck back at their home here in Macomb and sending them on their way. However, after curiously marveling at the amount of stuff they chose to move up, my brothers and I looked at each other and unanimously agreed we were going to have to follow them up north and help unload the truck. We all had to work the next day, and this venture was going to put us back home around 3:00 in the morning. But it didn’t matter, we had each other and a job to do so we hoped in the car and headed up to the thumb.

This trip proved to be one of the most valuable and pivotal recent times for my myself and my brothers. The journey was nothing short of being worthy of writing a script for a movie. While I still looked up to my brother Don as I did a child, I was now grown. Blessed with virtually the same height as Don, I could now see him eye to eye, once again, both metaphorically and literally. Time seemed to stand still but also pass within an instant during that trip. In talking with my brother eye to eye we further developed and mutual respect and admiration of each other that night. For me, it was the first instant in which I came to the realization that contrary to my previous belief, Don and I were very much alike in many ways. Although our interests and priorities were worlds apart, we shared many of the same personality traits.

The most important of those traits was passion. We both shared the trait of burning passion. Don did not approach any aspect of his life half-heartedly. He was passionate about his work, about his coaching, about his family, his three beautiful boys, the love of his life, Melinda, and most importantly his Lord.

As an athlete, I’ve come to realize that my brother really knew what it meant to be a sportsman. He understood how competition could elevate a person both physically, mentally, and also spiritually. As a coach he strived to instill this in his players and his children. Don took the time to understand my life even though it was different than his, and I was proud to make him proud through everything I did. This past summer, Don was our biggest fan at the second annual Port Hope Kickball tournament. He attended every game in the bracket and cheered from the stands with genuine enthusiasm. I’ll never forget after we won the tournament my brother coming up to me and proclaiming, “You know, I have to be honest, I have not been that emotionally attached to another sports team since the Red Wings won the Stanley Cup”. As I laughed at his comment, I remember thinking to myself, you know, he really is being serious…and he was. And that was my brother for you, full of passion, sincerity, honor, and unwavering dedication to anything he attempted.

To know Don was to love him. There are not a lot of people in this world that have the ability to affect everyone they interact with positively. Don’s ability to do this was nothing short of remarkable; he had an uncanny ability of bringing out the best qualities in people. With confidence, I can proclaim that everyone in this room today is a better person for having had my brother in their life.

Not only did Don have a strong Faith in God, but also a very close relationship with Him. Don was a true ambassador of what a Christian man looks like and acts like. With everything he did, he did it to the glory of God and proclaimed his name.
I had the privilege to watch my brother this past Sunday stand before a room full of people, and deliver a textbook “Donnie” speech as he honored Dr. Gary Pawlitz’s life work and dismissed him from his long standing career in ministry. Being a person of passion, Don’s presentation was nothing short of grandeur and entertainment. As I watched Don on stage I kept nudging Angela smiling and saying, “Hey, that’s my brother up their, my oldest brother, there he is, look at him go”. I must have said this to her 5 or 6 times. I was saying this because I was proud of my brother and looking up to him just as I did when I was a child back in Lutheran North’s gymnasium.

Over the past few days as I’ve looked through old pictures and videos of Don, I found myself wishing somehow I had the ability to talk to him, to tell him that his days with all of us were numbered. However, I’ve come to the clear and soothing realization that if this were possible, Don would not of lived his life any differently than he had. He would of continued to love his wife, children and family to the fullest. He would have just kept on putting his entire self into his work, his coaching, his humor. And furthermore, he would of just kept on worshiping, praising, and glorifying the name of Jesus Christ and setting an example to the world of what a Man of God is and acts.

Today, I can rest in the reassurance that because of my brother’s relationship with his Lord and Savior Jesus Christ I will forever, for the rest of my life here on Earth be able to and continue to look up to my brother until one day when I join him and I can thank him once again eye to eye for teaching me what it means to be a man, a father, a Christian, and athlete, a husband, and a person who shined on a daily basis as he walked through life with God always at his side with him.

Don’s confirmation verse Isaiah 40:31 reads:
"But those who wait on the Lord
Shall renew their strength;
They shall mount up with wings like eagles,
They shall run and not be weary,
They shall walk and not faint."

My brother was called to his heavenly kingdom on my birthday. He and I will now share a day every year that we can celebrate life together. I will celebrate the life my brother led, and celebrate my own life in which I’ll strive to follow the footsteps and examples laid before me by my brother Don. I am honored to have this day with my brother.

Don, I will forever value and honor your life and the time we had together on Earth. Just as I did when I was 8 years old I am still here and always will be looking up to you.

The Importance of being Earnest

2010-02-17T07:31:00.000-08:00

Although death and loss is a time of great sorrow and grief, I’ve strived to try and seek ways to learn from these events. As I attended my grandfather’s funeral yesterday, many thoughts raced through my head. I sat and tried to figure out how I was going to learn from this? How can I take lessons from my Grandfathers life and apply them to my own?
The experiences of his life and the sights that he saw and lived through were overwhelming to comprehend.

Last week as we sat bedside to my grandfather during his final hours, my grandmother explained to me that “Ernie had lived a hard life”. She went onto to explain some of the hardships of his childhood, the wars he had fought in, losing a child, and finally the physical suffering he had been in during the last years of his life. She then went onto proclaim that this will all be over now. As I listened to her words I couldn’t help but think to myself that although my grandfather had lived through many traumatic events, this never was evident during my time with him. He was always consistently pleasant and sincere with us…he was always Earnest.

During the funeral service, his Pastor explained that Ernie was someone who “always showed up”. Despite whatever adversity fell on him, he was a man of his word who was always there when he needed to be. I thought about this idea for a while and I realized this was the lesson I was going to take from my grandfather’s life on this Earth. Regardless of the odds, I will always strive to simply show up.

I’ve been pretty glued to the Olympics lately. To see athletes and individuals who epitomize passion and dedication is always a great motivator when on the brink of an upcoming and hopeful cycling season. I couldn’t help but fathom that in order for these athletes to get where they are today they surely must have not had a single obstacle that stood in their way. They must have had unlimited time to train and focus without distraction, everything must have gone perfectly for them. This is the time when I begin to fall into the idle ways of self-pity and the self-defeating thoughts begin to overcome my confidence and drive to want to press on and train harder and smarter than the past.

This thought of an ideal, uninterrupted path toward excellence is not only non-existent for these Olympians, but I realize it is not even possible. Rudyard Kipling said, “Unless you have been in the pit, you cannot enjoy the summit”. This idea is not exclusive to athletes, but rather our existence and consciousness in general. If we allow ourselves to succumb to the lows, than we’ve surrendered our simple ability to “just show up”.

A few weeks ago I was granted the necessary time off of work to attend this years 24hr Solo MTB National Championships. It was at this time a new flame was ignited, and focus and acuity came quickly streaming back to me. As I prepare for this new lofty goal, I am haunted by past failed expectations. However, recently I have not only come to a peaceful resolution with my race in Canmore last season, but I have come to realize that it quite possibly may have been a necessary step towards my target. It was a hard lesson learned but I now know that the torment that knags at you day to day ensued by quitting far exceeds whatever temporary physical pain that may have lead you to throw in the towel in the first place.

Armed with the lessons of being earnest, this season I plan on simply “showing up”.

Earnest G. Callender
1922 - 2010

EARNEST G. `ERNIE` CALLENDER, age 87 of West Bloomfield passed away Saturday, February 13, 2010 at Huron Valley Hospital in West Bloomfield. He was born on December 2, 1922 in Pontiac to the late Millard and Mildred (Wright) Callender. Ernie and Norma Schubring were united in marriage on January 19, 1946 in Port Hope. Ernie served in the US Army during World War II, he saw action in the Normandy Campaign, Northern France Campaign, Southern France Campaign and the Rhineland Campaign. He received the Purple Heart for his service. He enjoyed woodworking, dancing, fishing and bingo with his wife. He enjoyed his family very much. Ernie was a member of Peace Lutheran Church in Waterford. Ernie is survived by his wife Norma of West Bloomfield, daughter Linda Finkel and her husband Don of Port Hope, son Michael Callender and his wife Cheryl of White Lake, daughter-in-law Deanna Callender of North Carolina, five grandchildren, six great grandchildren, and one sister Doris Callender of Aurora, CO. He was preceded in death by a son James Callender, grandson Don Finkel Jr., great granddaughter Rebekah Finkel, and brothers Delbert Callender and Robert Callender.

Stoking the Neighbors!!!!

2010-01-29T08:49:00.000-08:00

Their eyes lit up as I proudly rolled to the start of the ride on my 2010 Superfly 100. Despite less than optimal new bicycle debut riding conditions, I couldn’t help myself.

Being one of the only 100’s to make it to Michigan so far this year; this steed is indeed a coveted one. I feel very forunate to have one under me for 2010!

I was able to get out on it twice last week and have officially come to the conclusion that Travis Brown’s assessment was correct; this bike is almost cheating!

Pursuit

2010-01-20T09:47:00.000-08:00

It seems that inevitably I always find myself at some point each year, trying to answer the same question: Why do I do this?

A friend of mine recently sent me a link to the soon to be released documentary Bicycle Dreams, which chronicles one of the most grueling endurance races in the world, the Race Across America. As you can see in the trailer below, the narrator quotes a comment from Lance Armstrong stating that, “Endurance Athletes are running away from something inside of themselves, and that is one of the reasons they do what they do”. The film also suggests that endurance racers are trying to fill a void inside of them with a burning desire to do something unimaginably great, not only to the spectator’s imagination but more importantly their own.

Are we running away from something inside of ourselves? Why do I now prefer to go the distance on my bike rather than a short and fast criterium race? Why did Robert Herriman ride 17,000 plus miles last year when he knew it was a detriment to his racing? Why do people want to try and climb Mt. Everest when they know their life could possibly be the cost of their endeavor?

I’m not sure there is an easily definable and understandable answer to these questions; I presume it is more a feeling than anything else. Getting close to this feeling only makes the quest/addiction/obsession more intense. Perhaps these answers can only be revealed through the pursuit of whatever the dream is. Furthermore, maybe it is this pursuit through which we discover our own definition.

While I do relate to Lances quote about running away from something inside of us, I would like to retort my own quote:

“Endurance athletes may not only be running away from something inside of themselves, but I believe they are also running towards a burning desire to discover something about themselves they never knew or dreamed imaginable.”
-Finkelstein

Times they are a changing.

2010-01-12T12:01:00.000-08:00

With recent grumblings of budget cuts, fat trimming, scrimping, and salvaging I had a few undefined thoughts bouncing around my head on my ride. For some reason, this Dylan classic involuntarily jumped in my mind and I was reminded that these are not the first hard days we have fallen on nor will they be the last. The problems may change or evolve, but the themes stay the same. Perhaps it's our perspective and our approach that may make all the difference.

The Times They Are A-Changin'
Come gather 'round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You'll be drenched to the bone.
If your time to you
Is worth savin'
Then you better start swimmin'
Or you'll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin'.

Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won't come again
And don't speak too soon
For the wheel's still in spin
And there's no tellin' who
That it's namin'.
For the loser now
Will be later to win
For the times they are a-changin'.

Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don't stand in the doorway
Don't block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
There's a battle outside
And it is ragin'.
It'll soon shake your windows
And rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin'.

Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don't criticize
What you can't understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is
Rapidly agin'.
Please get out of the new one
If you can't lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin'.

The line it is drawn
The curse it is cast
The slow one now
Will later be fast
As the present now
Will later be past
The order is
Rapidly fadin'.
And the first one now
Will later be last
For the times they are a-changin'.

Personal Atonement

2010-01-02T17:00:00.000-08:00

A few days ago, I rolled my last mile of the year. My goal was 14,000 miles. My usual end of the year blog posts consists of a detailed breakdown of my seasonal mileage and what steeds saw what miles. However, this year the final post is a little different.

I felt a little like Forest Gump as I reached my goal. I simply stopped and looked around, and thought to myself, “I’m kind of tired, I think I’ll stop riding and go home now”. And at that, my year of riding was complete. I am indeed tired, not so much physically, but mentally.

There is a short two mile loop that myself and a few other mileage junkies go to round up our miles at the end of a ride. We commonly refer to it as the Champs-Élysées. I found it only fitting to head out to this ritualistic spot to finish the year and do some soul-searching for next year. As I rolled lap after lap I reflected on the year behind me. So much had changed for me in a matter of a year, some of which was for the good and some of which was the complete unforeseen.

There is a quote from the epic Mountain Bike film Roam that I have always found to be metaphorically fitting to my approach to cycling. It says, “On a mountain bike, you can travel a great distance in a short amount of time, or a short distance in a great amount of time.” This past year I have traveled many great distances but I have also experienced the paralyzing sudden halt that can ensue when your world dramatically changes in a way you never even considered a possibility. All in all, I believe I maintained forward motion to the best of my ability.

When you throw away wattage numbers, mileage accumulation, time tallying, race results, bike weight, and all the other finite measurements that attract us to the sport you are left with simply the ride and the journey. When broken down, what I take away most from this sport is the value in the journey. I have learned many important lessons this year about myself, my world, how I interact with the world, and the race itself.

Typically, this time of year would be fueled by whatever race results or personal accomplishments I am aiming at for the upcoming season. However, I feel I have changed my perspective going into the 2010 season. What I am most eager for is to apply those lessons I have learned from the past and embrace the journey this year. I am quite confident that if the journey is the main focus, the results will simply fall in line.

So I guess its officially that time again…MONKHOOD. My private war starts today. I’ll see you all at the start line.

Envy

2009-12-28T19:12:00.000-08:00

Sometimes when I read blogs of fellow riders who live in 4-season cycling environments I am envious. I’m envious that they never have to take 45 minutes just to weatherproof themselves before they go out and ride during the December-March months. I’m envious that they never have to worry about numb fingers and toes and the ever-looming ominous threat of frostbite. And I’m envious that they don’t need a bike dedicated simply to the salty icy conditions and probably don’t even own studded tires.

Today I rolled 82 miles of snow-covered winter wonderland landscape. The miles were slow and arduous and mentally therapeutic. I feel bad for those riders who have never got to experience a day like today.

Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood

2009-12-24T06:59:00.000-08:00

On this day, I wish I could go back to this moment in time, even if just for a minute or so. I wish I could capture the magic that Christmas morning once was with my family. Memories are all I have now. It’s amazing how a day that was once filled with so much, can now feel so empty.

On this day, I will cherish the memories of my brother and do my best to create new ones with those he has left behind.

That though the radiance which was once so bright be now forever taken from my sight. Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, glory in the flower.
We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind.

And O, ye Fountains, Meadows, Hills, and Groves,
Forebode not any severing of our loves!
Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might;
I only have relinquished one delight
To live beneath your more habitual sway.
I love the Brooks which down their channels fret,
Even more than when I tripped lightly as they;
The innocent brightness of a new-born Day
Is lovely yet;
The Clouds that gather round the setting sun
Do take a sober colouring from an eye
That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality;
Another race hath been, and other palms are won.
Thanks to the human heart by which we live,
Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears,
To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears

-William Wordsworth

Have a Superfly Holiday!!!

2009-12-24T06:01:00.000-08:00

The stockings have been hung from the chimney with care...while visions of bombing trails in 2010 danced in my head.

Some Rides...

2009-12-15T18:48:00.001-08:00

Some rides separate the strong willed from the weak.

Some rides require a little more gumption than they’re probably worth.

Some rides are more beneficial to your mental fortitude rather than physical.

Some rides keep you asking the whole time; Why am I out here?…this is just silly, I am miserable, sitting at home on the couch seems like so much better of an option right now.

Tonight was one of those rides.

Finally, when some rides are over, you are left feeling like there was no other place you would have rather been.

Resurrection from Complacency

2009-12-14T09:33:00.000-08:00

It’s been about a month since I’ve had anything to say that people would care to read about. Actually, I’ve had a tremendous stream of thoughts going through my head but haven’t quite been able to formulate the words to describe them.

My personality is such that I don’t do well when I don’t have some kind of ambitious and audacious goal I’m chasing after and looking down the road towards. However, thanks to some recent delivery of some fresh fish and a few new ideas, I believe I am officially coming out of the funk.

Despite my new found focus, I’ve still been searching for the right motivation and fuel for the fire. I stumbled across this video today which has really captured some of the feelings I’ve been having in a form that transcends words. My heart dropped the first time I watched it as it conveyed so many emotions I've been having so clearly.

Enjoy. This blog is finally up and running again.

Fly One Time @ Yahoo! Video

I'm going to try flying one more time.

2009 Iceman Cometh Report: The Season Dénouement

2009-11-11T12:16:00.000-08:00

grass roots
Function: noun
Date: 1901
1 : the very foundation or source
2 : the basic level of society or of an organization especially as viewed in relation to higher or more centralized positions of power

The Iceman Cometh Challenge has become nothing short of a cultural phenomenon! Celebrating its 20th anniversary this season, the race boasted an all time participation high, seeing 4000+ racers voluntarily brave the 28 mile, rolling hill course and the Frankie Andreu described condition of “lactic acid up to your eyeballs”.

The ceremonial lemon pledging of the steed pre-race

This year’s race brought about much enthusiasm, excitement, and preparation for the race. I myself, hosted the second annual Ice Ice Baby ride designed to equip racers with the gumption necessary to face the arduous task of subjecting your heart rate to its redline for 1.5-2 hours. To win at Iceman, much less to even podium at Iceman, no matter what category you are in, seals your name in the races rich history. I am pleased to report that we had 7 riders this year that participated in the Ice Ice Baby ride and also stood atop the podium. I was very happy and content to report that I was one of these racers, finishing 5th in the singlespeed category. In addition, we had four participants that placed in the top 20 in the Pro field. The big wheeled steeds also proved dominant as the two Gary Fisher/Subaru racers JHK and Sam Shultz respectively claimed 1st and 2nd!

JHK and Sam Scultz atop the Pro Podium Photo: © Amy Dykema

What makes Iceman special is the races dedication to its grassroots foundation. What started as a mass start race of just over 30 or so racers has grown into a 4000 plus rider race while still maintaining that Mid-Western laid back vibe. Steve Brown, race promoter, can still be seen milling around the field talking to each rider and thanking them for their participation and commitment to the sport. It seems only natural that Gary Fisher is the main sponsor of such an event. The race oozes what Fisher Bikes is all about, bikes by the people and for the people.
The Mayhem!

Furthermore, if the event in and of itself is not enough, the after party is well worth the price of admission despite your race result. It’s a celebration of shared passion, oat sodas, big wheels, beards, and genuine laughs that will have you telling stories for weeks and months to come on your local group rides. I’m already dreaming about next year’s race! If you haven’t made the obligatory pilgrimage to the Iceman Cometh, see to it that it falls onto your schedule next year…it is well worth the price of admission.

MyNorth.com Video: Video: The Iceman Cometh Race Gets Perfect Day for 20th Year

Gratitude

2009-11-03T18:26:00.001-08:00

Undoubtedly this has been one of the toughest years of my life for myself as well as my family. When I reflect on it, I can say that it has been filled with my lowest of lows but also my highest of highs.

In the midst of my grief I have been able to whole-heartedly depend on several members of my team for strength and stability. My gratitude for this community is immense and it is something I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

Last week was our team banquet at Dick O’ Dows. My eyes welled up as I received this award from the team for my accomplishments this past season. I’m at a loss of words to describe my elation other than that this was one of my highest of highs.

Thank you Wolverine Racing Team!

Ice Ice Baby Officially Goes International!

2009-10-29T09:12:00.000-07:00

Fresh off the plane from Deutschland, Sven Baumann planned his entire vacation to the states around making a pilgrimage to the weekly slugfest of the Ice Ice baby Series. Sven clearly displayed that he was a juggernaut force to be reckoned with early on in the ride with his audacious and powerful pulls and his attacks on the climbs that had the field seeing stars. His efforts paid off as he sealed his victory in the final mile of the Final Ice Ice Baby race after putting himself into the winning selection of a 5 rider breakaway. Thanks for coming out Sven! You’ve officially made this thing an internationally attended event!

Left-Right Bill Clikeman, Myself, and the German Victor

For all the other Ice Ice baby patrons, we will have one last ride this upcoming Wednesday that will be more focused around socialization and mental preparation for the Ice Battle to ensue. Also, stay tuned for further information on a post-Iceman Ice Ice Baby awards party and celebration.

My sincere gratitude goes out to everyone who came out to brave this season’s Velo Fight Club, you all made training for this event fun and exciting!

Ice-Weapon.

2009-10-28T08:08:00.001-07:00

My sincere gratitude goes out to the generosity of Mr. Cullen Watkins for providing this B.A. steed! I will try my best to live up to it's potential.

A resurrection of the “Who cares I’m Flying Award”

2009-10-20T19:07:00.000-07:00

Every once in awhile a racer snags a well-deserved “W” that warms your heart. Usually it comes from a racer that has been persistent in his endeavors and has persevered with his goals despite whether or not his efforts had led to instant gratification. Scotty Fab has been honing his craft for several years now. He’s dedicated himself to his team and his personal progression. This past weekend that dedication paid off as Scotty rolled across the line first at the Mad Anthony Cross race.

I can speak on behalf of the entire WSC when I say that this win was well deserved and that we are all proud of Scott.

So let’s all raise our mild manners to Mr. Fabijanski…you are the newest recipient of the “Who Cares, I’m Flying” Award and also one of my favorite racers to see win.

Ice Ice Baby!

2009-10-13T18:47:00.000-07:00

When you’re a kid, virtually anything can become a finish line…a trash can, a stop sign, the end of the street, a telephone poll, etc. Your propensity to want to beat your fellow peers to a designated line is quite intense and it doesn’t take much coercing to get your engine revved and a race sparked. There is no such thing as unofficial or official, sanctioned or not, prize purses, race licenses, etc. It is a special time in life when measuring your speed, ability, and gumption against your friends and local click is highly valued and embraced. What is on the line…what are you racing for? All those elevated heart rates are for nothing more than territorial bragging rights accompanied by a wealth of stories to tell in your future. There are unspoken rules and undisputed respect that this all entails.

Everyone once in awhile, I find thoughts of resentment start to slowly seep into my psyche. I try to dismiss them quickly, but alas I cannot deny their presence. These thoughts of resentment are directed toward my most intense passion…the bike. It’s usually a cyclical thing; introducing it’s ugly self around October and November. Some call it “burn out”. Too much of anything, even good things, can eventually become destructive I guess. Usually when I start to recognize these feelings I try to take concerted steps to stop them.

Gary Fisher and a handful of other people, pioneered the great sport of mountain biking by simply pushing some clunkers up a dirt hill and riding them back down as fast as they could. It was a social endeavor; they were doing something new…creating stories and memories. Their focus wasn’t commercialization of the sport, nor was it training for a big audacious race event.

The Iceman Cometh is an annual celebration of mountain biking that takes place in November in Northern Michigan every year. Over the race’s history it has grown almost exponentially in popularity, attracting some of the most talented riders from all over the country. The race usually serves as an end of the season motivator but also as a way for all of us fat tire addicts to celebrate our shared passions of mountain bikes, but also the well-earned oat sodas that accompanies a season of dirt, sweat and gears.

Last season I decided to start a local group ride called “The Ice Ice Baby Ride” in preparation for the Iceman. The focus of the ride was not to simply train for the event but more importantly to take that ever-important step of ensuring that I don’t resent my two-wheeled companion. The idea was to get back to that kid-like mentality of racing your friends for the camaraderie of it but also the lactic acid induced bonding that comes from trying to best each other on a weekly basis.

The rides usually drew 10-15 riders of elite caliber. Much to my surprise, this season there has been a great deal of increased excitement and enthusiasm circling around this ride. I have seen an upwards of 30+ of the “who’s who” of Michigan Mountain Bike racers attending consistently the past few weeks. Best of all, being from the Midwest and all, it seems 26 inch machines have become the minority as big wheels have prevalently dominated. The ride is becoming known as a weekly ceremonial slugfest. Many participants have commented to me that it is the highlight of their week. I’ve received several messages the following work days after the ride from participants sitting in their cubicles dreaming about bombing down double tracks at 28mph guided by nothing but the glow of their high intensity lights and the shadows of storming riders all around them. These sentiments really alleviate any of those fleeting thoughts of resentment that resonate with me and recharge my velo batteries.

Just because we grow up doesn’t mean we have to leave behind that childlike enthusiasm to go fast for no other reason than the rush and elation it brings. Thanks to any rider that has showed up to this MTB territorial pissing contest…you have made my late season and delivered me from the banes of resenting my bike.

See you in November...Viva Le Iceman Cometh!

Where? Never heard of it?

2009-10-06T11:22:00.000-07:00

One day prior to 24 hour worlds this summer a mandatory rider press conference was held to review rules and regulations, introduce the racers, as well as announce the location of the 2010 World Championship.

I was amazed at how many Australian racers represented the overall field. After a few days in Canmore I was actually beginning to feel like a minority being from America and being on big wheels.

Stuart Dorland, race director, saved the 2010 location announcement for the end of the meeting. With great pride, he finally announced that next year’s race was not only going to be void of North American Soil, but also not even in this hemisphere! As he started to announce “Australia”, before he could even finish the room erupted with a choir of surly Australians screaming “Aussie, Aussie, AUSSIE…OI…OI!” for about the next ten minutes.

Eventually the loudness settled down and Alan Smith turned to me and in a sarcastic tone belted out a boisterous, “WHERE?...Neva heard of it!!!”.

It’s that time of year again…

2009-10-04T15:12:00.000-07:00

It’s a special yet mentally tormenting time. I have no training objectives other than trying to run over as many leafs as I can. I’m not monitoring my diet, and I’m not too worried about getting a set amount of saddle hours in each week.

The impending Iceman Cometh lurks just around the corner.

What are you doing to prepare for this years celebratory slugfest?

I’m simply ensuring my seasonal beard will be full, rich, and compelling come November 7th.

Stay tuned…

Critical Rediscovery

2009-09-15T13:05:00.000-07:00

There I sat in a state of delirium. I was tired, confused, and medically fragile caused by an intense state of exhaustion and an overconsumption of dense electrolyte based sports drinks which led to a state of intoxication. My legs were past the point of lactic pain and moving quickly into a dead detached feeling. My triceps were on fire from railing technical descents. My nerves were non-existent, my gumption stripped from my being. I felt as if I was imprisoned by my own ambition to do something great. But worst of all I was sad. I was sad because I knew that from this point on I was going to have to move forward. I was going to have to accept my failed expectations and live with them. I was going to have to learn to live in the present rather than the future, and although it may not be true today…at the time, the present sucked! This was all my choice; I brought it all upon myself.

One of my most fond cycling memories comes from a few seasons back at the Superweek Pro Tour in Wisconsin. Fellow teammate Scott Kroske had a bad day on the bike. He was struggling with keeping the rubber side down all season, as he is notorious for. This day he found his carcass once again meeting the pavement in the Cat. 3 road race. As he circled around the course into the pits for some bodily/equipment inspection, colorful cuss words rolled off his tongue like a sailor. He was desperately trying to regain composure to enter back in the race while the SRAM neutral support mechanics quickly worked on his machine and got it back in race-worthy order. Scott continued to holler and complain about his misfortune. Jose Acala, SRAM mechanic and former WSC member, looked as Scott as he gave him his bike back and muttered some great words that will always resonate with me. He told Scott, “You know Mr. Kroske; there are easier, more safe sports you can try”. A few simple words managed to quickly put everything into perspective for him and he rolled onward to finish the race.

As I sat defeated in the Mountains of Canmore, embarrassed by my showing, Stuart Dorland of 24hrs of Adrenalin approached me. We spoke at great length as he assessed whether or not I was mentally and physically OK. I can’t really tell you too much of what we talked about that day but I do remember one thing. He suggested that the next 24hr race I do, I try it on a team rather than solo. His suggestion was not based on his doubt that I was not cut out for 24hr solo racing, after all I had qualified for the World Championships, he was merely suggesting that I reacquaint myself with how fun this form of racing can be when the pressure to perform is alleviated a bit. To be honest, I really didn’t think too much at the time about what he said, I was way too preoccupied with reveling in my sorrow and disappointment.

You are only as good as your next race.

As the conclusion of this season neared I found I was struggling to keep a sharp focus on my objectives. In fact, I really didn’t have any objectives anymore. Two weeks ago, I decided to try my hand at Crit racing once again only to find that I served as nothing more than a financial donation to the race, as well as colorful scenery to help increase the numbers of the pack. But alas, I raced anyway…because after all that’s what I do, I race bikes. It’s what I know and it’s what’s comfortable.

Upon the completion of the Labor Day Rock City Crit, one of Angela’s uncles who had come out to spectate, turned to me and said something no one has ever said to me after a bike race. He said, “Hey Tim, that was a good try”. I had turned myself inside out for 90 minutes, heart rate elevated and muscles quivering, only to do nothing more than roll in amidst the rest of the pack fodder and to donate $40 to the race promoters. “Good try?” it sounds like such a short coming. Good tries are for darts, or horse shoes, or something as simple as trying to toss a crumbled piece of paper into a garbage can. It seems to me that years of dedication, sweat, and tears culminated in 90 minutes of pain must be represented by something more than “good try”. I tried to explain to him that every rider in that Pro ½ field has dedicated more hours to their sport than the average professional baseball, football, or basketball player raking in 7 figure salaries. In the midst of my frustration, I realized that he was right, it doesn’t matter what the outcome was that day, and my performance was nothing more than a “good try”.

I can’t speak for all the other passionate people in the world, but I think I sometimes tend to put my craft on a pedestal simply because I feel it should be deservedly there due to the sheer amount of hours I put into it. My dedication should mean something, right? However, regardless of the numbers of my wins or losses, all of this really means nothing more than exactly what it is and what we personally perceive it to be.

As the season concluded I needed to shift my focus from ambitious and lofty goals to one simple thing: having fun.

So this past weekend, I decided to take Stuart Dorland’s advice and enter a 24hr race on a four man team with no other agenda in mind than having fun. On Friday, I quickly rushed home from school, as excited as a young boy on Christmas morning, threw all of my gear in a bag, and rushed to Grayling, MI to race the 24hrs of Hanson Hills.

My composite team consisted of three other talented riders from other teams. Ben Renkema of Kenda Pro Cycling/Spinergy, Nate Williams of the Bissell Elite Cycling Team, and Brian Bangma owner and racer of the Grand Rapids Bicycle Company.

Soon after the race started, the campfire was lit, the first moon lady was cracked, and the stories and jokes started flowing in between laps I realized that I had engaged in exactly what I needed at the time.

24 hours ended up passing faster than I ever knew it could and in the end the product was a team Victory in the 4-Man Elite Category as well as a wealth of fun. I didn’t take myself too seriously. I wasn’t too focused on lap times, I simply rode the trail to have fun and enjoy the atmosphere.

I rediscovered exactly why I love this sport at a very critical time. The race served as an optimal catalyst to erase any resonating failed expectations from this past season and recharge my battery for next season.

You are only as good as your next race. But for now, you may as well have fun. Even if it occasionally takes some reminding…that is what’s it’s all about…fun.

12 hours of Drummond Island

2009-09-04T07:48:00.000-07:00

John Stamsted, a pioneer of 24hr solo racing, once said, “This form of racing is so hard that no one out there does it for the money, and if they did it would have to be extremely large sums of money before anyone would voluntarily make themselves suffer that long”.

I hadn’t been to Drummond Island in about 18 years. My memories of this land lie deep in tales of catching whopping perch and walleye with my father, and bears sneaking up on campers to help themselves to any of their food placed within a bear’s reach. Long before I ever swung my leg over a top tube and tried to beat another person to the line I formed my fond impressions of this island.

Years later…older, perhaps wiser, I decided to venture back up to Drummond, this time to race my bike in the Michigan Endurance Series 12 Hours of Drummond Island. I found it only fitting to invite my father and the rest of my family to help support me during the race as well as revisit the magic that I was exposed to so young.

There were other bigger races with more prestige and prize purse I could of choose this weekend, but this race meant something more than any cash prime or winning check could ever hold. This event was more of a family vacation that happened to have a race in it.

Race day brought about torrential rain and a bone chilling 52 degrees. As I kitted up in my warm protective car, Angela stared at me with a look of disbelief and doubting intrigue. “I’m just amazed at how excited and positive you can be to be racing in such terrible conditions”, she commented. The week prior to this race I had stayed with Ray D. up at the Buck-N-A cabin for a bit of a late season rest/training camp. In that time I realized that it’s a good thing to concede that “you can’t win em all” and that not everything works out according to plan. Mike Tyson once said, “Anyone can plan to win a fight until you get clocked in the jaw, it’s what you do after that, that matters”.

So I rolled to the line a few minutes before the start. I wasn’t too worried about any competition posing a threat. It was mostly a race against myself, the clock, and my ghosts of the past. The gun fired, I took the hole shot, and didn’t look back until about a mile in. John Cowan, Petoskey resident, fellow teacher, and all around great cyclist, stayed with my wheel and we began to trade pulls and converse at the same time. Unfortunately after a few miles of putting it down we realized we completely lost the course. We had to turn around and start from the back of the field! We ended up working our way back to the front by the end of the lap and wound up front running the rest of the race.

About three hours into the race my hands and feet were numb and my bike could barely shift anymore due to the amount of mud it accumulated. I wasn’t having fun at this point. I rolled through the pits, completely changed my clothes, switched my bike and was off. From this point on, I began to have fun. Although I was leading the race, I was still in a great deal of pain and discomfort. Just as I started to ask myself, “Why do I do this”, I began to embrace this feeling of suffering and drew from it.

Some may label it a sick attraction…why do we voluntarily choose to suffer? I’ve found there is something about persevering from point A to point B that no prize money or notoriety can ever take precedence over.

I ended up winning the race without much contest, and I began to question again why I choose this event. As I looked in the faces of my family I quickly became comforted in my reasons.

So why do we do this? It’s not for the money…it’s for something far more.

Looking Onward: Are you an Athlete?

2009-08-20T08:07:00.000-07:00

Sometimes when we look into the future for so long we fail to embrace the present. This is an extremely potent danger that is at stake when we allow our dreams and aspirations to define us over a prolonged period of time. John Coyle, fellow teammate of mine, best describes this idea here.

I’m finding it hard to live without the dream. Last season I put my entire soul into one event, which ultimately resulted in greatness. This season, I attempted the same with different results. However, the feelings I had post-events are turning out to be very similar. When your entire focus for a year funnels down to one moment in time it is extremely mentally difficult to move on once this time has come and gone, regardless of the result. It’s an indescribable feeling one can only be familiar with if you have lived through it. Again, I always have to remind myself I choose all of this; none of it was a product of any uncontrollable circumstances.

When I wake up in the morning, I have plenty to do these days to keep me busy, but I am left aimlessly wandering. I still hop on my bike everyday, but my intentions are foggy and unclear. I am simply riding because that’s what I know to do. When I roll out the door, I certainly don’t know what direction I’m heading in because I’ve temporarily lost the ability to focus on the present rather than the future. It’s a habitual thing that has been intensely acquired over a two-year period.

A good friend of mine Scott, who now resides in Austin, TX sent me a pretty enlightening message two days after Worlds this year, which aided in my ability to see the present clearly. Scott, being a former Nationally Elite level swimmer truly understands what sacrifice means as he describes in letter below.

Thanks again Scott!

Tim,

You have officially become an athlete.

Contrary to what most people believe, an athlete is not a person who was blessed with certain DNA.

An athlete takes his approach to his competition with a life and death seriousness.

An athlete puts every single item that enters his body in one category : Fuel. Nothing more, nothing less. The thought of "that might taste good" is irrelevant to him. Only how much this will build and or fuel his machine.

An athlete puts his rest and recovery first, knowing that tomorrow's daily test will require every bit of strength he thinks he has, and some he didn't know he had.

An athlete brings himself to the brink of exhaustion on a daily and sometimes hourly basis. Riding with the ghost of him from last year nipping at his heels, wanting to take him down. But he has made gains from the past. The pain, the recovery, the lifestyle has given him a physical and mental edge. The ghosts of years past cannot hold this pace, this intensity is too much. There is a deep sense of satisfaction knowing just how hard it was to be able to ride away from last years ghost. It is not arrogance, but a sense that you have arrived, and are now proud of yourself from the depths of your character.

This changes an athlete. Some for good, some for bad. An athlete will go toe to toe with anyone. They may win, they may lose, but one thing is certain: if wants a piece of him, they are going to get the whole nine yards and will have to earn it.

An athlete does his job every single day, day after day. Tired, sore, sick, injured. There is a job to be done, and he will be damned if anything dares to get in his way. The creature comforts and excuses that most enjoy are viewed as a weakness. This spartan lifestyle has become just that : his lifestyle.

As the pain mounts and most start to fade, an athlete has a sick sense of enjoyment. This is where he lives, and most don't like this neighborhood. He is comfortable, when the pain starts, he wants more. Not because he is narcissistic, but he knows this is where others are in pain, and if they hurt now, the next level they will crack. When a worthy adversary can rise to the occasion and truly challenge him, he has mixed emotions of admiration, fear and anger. He asks himself "Does this guy have any idea much I will suffer to win?" He has seen adversaries with better tools repeatedly become casualties of his private war.

It is this process that you have dedicated yourself to over a long period of time that has changed you. You will never be the same.

Most will try to relate to your quest. But only those who have been in your shoes for years at a time will ever come close to relating. Most don't realize just how mentally, emotionally and physically exhausting it his to finely tune the human body into everything it is capable of. The daily grind alone will decimate almost anyone's spirit after a period of weeks, a few can maintain it for months. Only those who have a singular focus can handle it for years.

You left no stone unturned. You have reached a level of dedication that is nothing short of impressive. Many take this journey for various reasons, but the goal is the same. An athlete truly wanted to see what he is made out of, what makes him tick, how much he could endure, what looks back at him in the abyss.

You have answered those questions, and that is why you are an athlete.

-Scott

Reflections from Canmore

2009-08-19T09:31:00.000-07:00

No excuses…no regrets.

2009-07-26T11:12:00.000-07:00

I wrote this at 7:00am this morning because I couldn’t sleep with so many thoughts racing through my head.

7:00am Sunday Morning:
I’m not going to go into a detailed race report of any kind. I’m not looking for sympathies. I’m trying to repeat the mantra “no excuses, no regrets”. This race meant the world to me. There had not been a single ride I’ve done this season where I hadn’t thought about it. It served as more than just a race for me. At first it was simply a personal attempt at doing something great. However, it grew into more than that.

Many people have told me that I have been an inspiration to them threw this journey. At first, I didn’t know how to take that. However, I knew it served as motivation for me.

As for my family and myself included, I felt that this endeavor had served as hope for us all. I’m learning that the loss of my brother has affected me more than I can really begin to understand and that my grieving has only started. This race had been more of a distraction than anything when it came to dealing with all of this. I’ve experienced how a 24hr race breaks you down to your simplest being before. This race ended up doing that sooner than I had thought/hoped for/ and anticipated. I reached my breaking point and surrendered to it. I tried my best to not let the race take my fight out of me, but it did.

Retrospect can be a painful knife in your side. I never felt right from lap one and began to unravel from there. At several instances I started to realize that because of the state I was in and the toughness of the course that I was significantly risking my safety staying out there. I began to review priorities in my life and for the first time in a long time, racing took a back seat. Unbelievably this came at one of the most inopportune times in my life. When it was all said and done, I looked at it as “just a bike race”, which was the antithesis of my mentality going into this all.

Sometimes the journey can be more important than the destination. I think in this instance it is best if I relish in this idea. This journey helped me to cope with intense sorrow and the toughest year of my life. It also made me realize how many beautiful people are in my life that I am thankful for. It made me see clearly what priorities are most important.

This journey is not over; it simply got derailed a bit.

I am thankful that I have had a great support network through all of this and I hope that those of you who have been a part of this truly know how genuinely gracious I am for all of you.

So I guess I’m officially on vacation now with seven other beautiful people whom I love and cherish greatly. When it’s all said and done I am coming home a winner, I have won the love of a perfect counterpart to myself whom I now get to spend the rest of my life with by my side and go through many more journeys with. This was just one of them. Time to make the best out of failed expectations and try and see a way to learn how this will only make me stronger in the future.
I may have failed in my attempt but my journey was invaluable…No excuses…No regrets.

12:16 Sunday Morning
As a quick follow-up: I’m back at the race now packing up and have discovered many of the riders had pulled out including the front running pro rider. As a result, I still ended up 15th in the pro/elite. I can’t hang my head low. Just lining up was a battle of nerves for me.

She said YES!!!

2009-07-24T17:51:00.000-07:00

Nothing like doing it big! We got engaged on top of a mountain!

Despite my race result I'm coming home a winner!

That being said, I know have a race to focus on. You can all follow it at: http://24wsc.com/

Words can't describe how much I appreciate all the positive messages, emails, tweets, and phone calls from everyone over the few days. I will try my best to do you all proud. I love you all.

Stay tuned...

Scenes from Canmore...

2009-07-22T22:18:00.000-07:00

Everywhere I look, I feel like I'm dreaming. This is some of the most beautiful scenery I've ever seen in my life! I pre-rode the course in it's entirety today. It is extremely challenging and I have no doubt this race will be the toughest one I've ever done. It's inevitable...I will once again come face to face with my soul.
Stay tuned...

The Calm Before the Storm:

2009-07-15T08:38:00.000-07:00

The Objective: Get away from it all, relax, and clear the mind.

The Destination: Charlevoix, MI

The Plan: Arrive late Wednesday night; get a big ride in on Thursday, preview the Boyne Marathon course than go fishing on Friday, race the Boyne Marathon on Saturday and head back home.

In short, we achieved three of the above descriptions.

As I ventured up north late Wednesday night I found myself cool, calm and collected. I have pretty much done all I can for physical preparation for the 24hr Solo World Championships. I have stayed safe, healthy, and put my time in. And although I know there is much to be determined/established in terms of mental and equipment preparation, I have found myself in a good serene place. As I reflected on my surprisingly relaxed demeanor, I quickly realized this is simply the calm before the storm.

We arose on Thursday, geared up and set sail for an undetermined adventure on the North Country Trail. The route started in Charlevoix, headed to Boyne Falls, rode trail to Petoskey, and then linked up with a group ride out of Latitude 45 later that day. I had been coming off an already epic mileage early week and today was simply the last hoorah for absurd hours in the saddle.

As we hit the trailhead, my riding partner Alan commented, “Do you think we have enough water? You know, there is a good chance we are going to get lost.” I simply let this notion roll over my shoulders and thought; we’re fine…it’s not that far of a distance. Inevitably, 20 miles into the trail we both were almost out of fluids and starting to panic as we were quite far from any form of civilization. Thankfully, a few miles later we came to a dirt road crossing with three houses off the road. One of which happened to have a hose lying in front of it, which we used to refill our bottles.

So often, when I ride the trails I am riding lines that are so memorized and engrained in my head. I compare lap times and use that to gauge where my fitness is. Essentially, the trail is used for a training tool. However, there are very few moments anymore where I just roll out on an undetermined/uncharted adventure. The North Country Trail served as a great way to simply explore the landscape of Northern Michigan and gain new perspective as to just how beautiful our state is as well as how fundamentally fun simply riding a mountain bike can be when there is no objective other than to explore. It reminded me in a comforting way, that even without all this racing and training, I simply love to ride my bike and this alone is my main reason I continue to do it season after season.

To further continue the calm before the storm, Alan and I headed out to fish on Friday just after we previewed the Boyne Marathon Course. After conceding to the fatigue onset from nearly 400 miles in 4 days, I decided it would be counter productive to race on Saturday as it would only burn me out more. Fishing became the focus for the rest of the trip. It was at this time, I officially deemed myself in “taper mode”. Admitting to “taper” can in and of itself is a bit mentally tormenting. Essentially what it means is that you are accepting that you have done everything physically possible to prepare for the race and now you are succumbing to the waiting game. It is calming and nerve racking all at the same time.

There was no time to change out of our bibs...we were too excited!

So this brings us to the adventure of Saturday morning. Allow me to simply give you the cliff notes as it is a bit of a long story. We got out on the lake early morning, pulled in two 4lb lunkers, and headed into shore to start the trek back home. Just as we were about 3 miles from the dock the boat engine started sputtering and quickly cut out. We immediately realized that despite the ¼ tank reading on the fuel gauge, we were bone dry for gas. After some failed attempts at flagging someone to tow us in we realized we were going to need to tie the boat onto a buoy and swim it to shore. So we tied the boat up, swam to shore, hitchhiked to town, bought some gas, swam back to the boat, and finally set out on our venture home. All in all, the debacle set us back about 2.5 hours…not bad considering.

I returned home with a calm, collected aura.

However, now I’m starting to feel anxiety weighing on me. I always have to remind myself that the reason I love these races is the sheer epic nature of them. A 24hr race truly brings about a full spectrum of emotions during the preparation phase, the race itself, and after the race. This experience really reflects everyday life: a spectrum of emotions, choices, and circumstances…how you react to these variables truly shapes who you are as a person. A 24-hour race breaks you down to your simplest being. Throughout most of it, you are fighting your body’s natural biological make-up. Lets face it, we are not designed to do this sort of thing. It is the most potent litmus test of mental fortitude and toughness. In retrospect, it’s like living a lifetime in 24 hrs.

If I start to dwell on the suffering this upcoming event will ensue, it becomes overwhelming and impossible to deal with. If I dwell on the potential jubilation that results from it, I will start to not respect the enormity of it all and could potentially go into it destructively over confident. Keeping a clear head, and a sharp view of it all is quite challenging but necessary. Once again, I always have to remind myself that this is the dynamic that attracts me to this unique form of racing. None of this is for the weak minded.

I have a lot to race for this season. When I reflect back to last years race, that was simply all about me. This year is much different. If I ride bell to bell and put my entire soul into this race than I will know that I have fulfilled what I came to do regardless of the result.

Stay tuned…

18-Day Countdown

2009-07-06T20:45:00.000-07:00

I just got back from the 140-mile trek back from my parent’s house in Port Hope. I hammered out the brutally windy, dirt farm road route in 7hours and 53minutes. I felt strong the entire ride, it was just what I needed. I know I am ready.

While I was visiting my parents I attended church with them on Sunday. The Pastor’s message was that suffering is good for you, if it requires you to seek strength within. It was an opportune moment for me to hear these words.

In 18 days I’m going to need to find strength I never knew I had, I am ready.

From Motown to Marquette: Superior Bike Fest 09’

2009-07-01T08:15:00.000-07:00

Close your eyes and imagine a velo-inspired weekend consisting of a three-day celebration of all things two-wheeled in one of the most beautiful landscapes of Michigan. I’m referring to none other than the Superior Bike Festival, which I am now nominating as the “Sea Otter of the Midwest”. If you have a passion for self-propelled two-wheeled contraptions, than SBF is the venue for you. This festival left nothing out; downhill races, XC, Criterium, State Championship Road Race, and Circuit.

It’s sheer irony that we watched RAD, what I regard as the greatest story ever told, on our venture up to the U.P. on Friday as the SBF could be paralleled to Helltrack coming to Cochrane. It was impressive to see a community of people who were all engaged in the weekend’s festivities and took great pride in hosting it. Being submersed in The Motor City, I tend to sometimes forget what a town that embraces the ownership of their land and trail systems looks like. I’ve been to many destination races out of town/state that the city simply regards a race coming to their town as a bit of an inconvenience to their everyday course of function. I’ve also been to many races where the hosting town completely embraces the events and takes pride that many elite athletes have made the trip to race in their backyard; Marquette unquestionably fit into this category. For every race, the spectators far outnumbered the racers and the roar of the crowd served as fuel for the fire and added to the recipe for great racing.

Weekend Objectives: (In order of importance)
1. Stay safe, healthy, and injury-free=accomplished
2. Have fun bonding with my teammates=accomplished
3. Get a long road race and take another crack at a State Championship=1/2 accomplished
4. Get a good short MTB race in with some hard efforts=accomplished

With the big show being less than 30 days away, I was a bit discretionary as to which races I choose this weekend as to not put myself in any situations that could potentially jeopardize my main goal with an injury. So after taking a look at the Crit course, which entailed four downhill corners and a healthy helping of elevation change, I decided to simply spectate that one, likewise with the circuit race course. So I spent Day 1 simply previewing the MTB course and exploring some of the most perfectly constructed single track I have ever ridden in Michigan.

After taking in a copious amount to coffee and breakfast at a local diner Saturday morning we rolled over to the Road Race. The course was 100miles and featured a defining climb a mere 3 miles into the race. The story was that last year the winning break went on the first hill of the day and was never to be seen again. So my strategy was to be ready early this year. As we hit the base of the climb, attacks started and I ensured that I never left the top 5 positions the entire way up the first hill. As we reached the summit, I glance back and realized over half the field had been shed and we only had a group of about twenty remaining. However, little did I know that the worst was yet to come. For the next twenty miles or so, calculated and relentless attacks streamed from the Bissell Boys. With only two other teammates remaining in the group with me, we were seeing stars trying to cover as many moves as we could. Eventually, the cord snapped and 10 guys got away without any WSC teammates. Amazingly, one of my teammates Corey who had been chasing for miles caught us at this point and we engaged in a team time trial at the front of our chase for the next 20 miles. After much effort, we brought the break back in close sight only to watch them roll away again when they realized they were being caught.

The remainder of the day in the saddle was pretty uneventful and somewhat miserable as the clouds rolled in and we were forced to finish the race in a 60-degree downpour. I ended up rolling in at 14th for the day. Despite another failed attempt at a State Road Championship, I was simply content to have gotten a good ride in and looked forward to an evening of shenanigans with my teammates that only a road trip could bring about.

Sunday’s Mountain Chase XC Race boasted a healthy field size of 44 racers, much larger than some of the local MTB races back home. The course compiled a brilliant mix of climbing, single track, dirt road, and some pavement…it was super fast and rolled really well.

The race started with a neutral roll out until we hit the first climb. Mike Anderson, of The Bell’s Brewery Race Team, was the returning champ and the one to keep an eye on for the day. As we hit the first climb I stayed as close to his wheel as I could. A few miles of trail later, he out-muscled me and another rider and was off. For most of that lap I kept him in sight in the open sections but was inevitably losing time. I wound up racing in third for the remainder of that lap until the second lap when a Wisconsin racer rolled up on me. We decided to work together for the remainder of the race trading pulls in the road sections. However, as we approached one of the last climbs of the day, he attacked and I simply did not have an answer after yesterday’s road race still lingering in my legs. I held him to about 15 seconds and rolled in at 4th overall and first in the Men’s 30-39 category. I was pretty happy to have survived this race with tired legs, as a 24mile MTB race is a bit short for me and not really my discipline.

As we jumped in the car to head back to Motown Sunday afternoon, I couldn’t help but get excited for next year’s SBF. I highly recommend this race to anyone who wants to bask in an environment of shared passion of all things two-wheeled with a community of great people. The organization was top notch and the promoters are dedicated to further improving/building on this event. Also, I like to give a special thanks to the Chase Family who so gratuitously invited in twenty-plus racers to their home for the weekend…I hope we can come back next year!

The Gift of Flight

2009-06-24T12:34:00.000-07:00

Although I am not yet a parent myself, as an educator I think I have a pretty clear view of what the job of a parent entails. When I reflect on it, the concept is a bit overwhelming.

How can you possibly thank the person who molded you into who you are today, instilled the values you have, passed on your genetic traits, supported you no matter what a bonehead you were, and submerged you in the fertile soil necessary to grow into a person that is content with himself and thankful to wake up everyday and interact with the world? I suppose walking in a path he finds pleasing is most likely the most honorable thing you can do to repay him.

This past Father’s Day was a bit of a bittersweet feeling for me as my family had to face their first Father’s Day without my oldest brother. I found that it left me yearning more than ever to try and do something special for my Dad as he mourned the loss of his son and continues to try and figure out where to go from here.

As an educator of students with Emotional Impairments I often observe that the etiology of many of their struggles/problems stems from the lack of a stable male figure in their life. This was not the case for my own childhood by any means. I cannot imagine achieving what I have today without the love, support, and nurturing of my parents. Although my parents continue to grieve over their oldest son, I have observed the contentment they have that he lived a life that was pleasing to them and adhered to the values they wanted for all of us.

Jerry Seinfeld may have bought his Dad a Cadillac but I think my gift for my Dad this Father’s Day was far superior. Just as my Dad did for me when I was 17 years old and helped me attain my first wings of flight by buying me my first Gary Fisher, I now have 13 years later, reciprocated the favor.

As my interest in cycling/racing developed over the years so did my Father’s. Often times when I converse with him I find that he keeps up on the pro peleton more than I do. So what better way to compliment his fandom for the sport that to get him involved himself. Also, after building The Eagle Wing Loop earlier this year we’re going to need a trail manager.

The image of my Dad’s eyes lighting up as he asked, “is that for me?” will forever be captured in my mind as I had my nephews roll out his new Gary Fisher and present it to him. Being a retired engineer, my Dad took a good 30 minutes to luster over the technical aspects of the bike from its hydro-formed aluminum tubes to the metal flake paint. After his intricate inspection, he swung leg over the top tube to propel himself for the first of many rides on his shiny new steed.

I rolled around the block with my Dad as he commented to me, “Now I know why you can ride all those miles, this bike is so smooth!” It was at that moment that I got my first clear realization of how it must feel to receive vicarious joy from watching your own child do things that amaze you. In that moment, I didn’t see my dad, I saw a child that was filled with excitement and enthusiasm just as if they were trying something for the very first time.

For me the gift meant so much more than simply giving him the material object of the bike. A bike in and of itself is simply a tool, and unridden it is an unused tool that will never take flight. My dad gave me many tools growing up that helped me become who I am today. He never told me what to do or who I had to be, he simply gave me the right tools to soar. Although I am grieving over my family’s loss, nothing hurts me more than to see my Dad grieve over the loss of his first born son who he shared his own name. It is my hopes that the gift of this bike will serve as an effective tool to allow him to take flight and embrace the joy that I have felt through two wheels.

After recently talking to my Mom, she had exclaimed how much my dad loves his new toy. In fact, I haven’t really had much time to converse with him this week because every time I call home he is out on the bike. His goal is to ride a century before the end of the summer…stay tuned for more updates on his progress.

Racing is the Best Training.

2009-06-19T07:02:00.000-07:00

It’s amazing how one’s perspective changes given time, distance, and experience.

I’ve been getting a bit behind on my blogging as things/events continue to pile up on top of me and snowball.

This past weekend consisted of a calculated plan of attrition preparation for July. Adhering to the Walden philosophy that training is the best racing I decided to attempt the 8 hours of Cannonsburg MTB race on Sat. and Le Tour de Mont Pleasant 105 mile road race the following day. My hopes were to be competitive at both venues.

Prepping for a racing binge of this caliber proved to be no easy task as I took three hours to pack Thursday night. In addition, my homeroom class on Friday spent most of their time premixing bottles, and organizing all of my nutrition for Saturday’s race. I could of left straight from work on Friday to head out to Kalamazoo to get a good night sleep prior to a stacked weekend of racing. However, I stopped by my Sister-in Laws house to pick up a bracelet someone had made in memory of my brother, I needed to have it to get through my weekend of attrition binging. This jaunt set me off schedule by about an hour after getting stuck behind a bad accident on M-14 and having to reroute my trip. I learned later that it was a multiple fatality accident. Although I was frustrated that my plans had been derailed a bit, I couldn’t help but feel blessed that perhaps if I wouldn’t of made that extra stop to pick up the bracelet I may have been caught up in the accident.

A large appeal of mine to 24 hour racing is the sheer mental and physical preparation that goes into it. If you want to be successful, you can’t just wake up a few days before the race and decide you want to take a crack at a 24hr MTB race. There is something comforting in knowing that your dedication to one event will be your single hardest effort of the season. I often analogize it to being like a boxer getting ready for a title bout. A boxer never really puts the effort forth that it takes to step in the ring until fight day, simply because it takes so much out of you. There is no race simulation when it comes to 24hr racing, only when you line up and ride bell to bell will you ever have any idea of what it takes and what your mind and body go through. This being said, preparing for a 24hr race must consist of very calculated stints of riding/racing with even more calculated recovery.

When I finally arrived in Kalamazoo, I checked in with my long time friend Ryan, and headed out for a quick hour spin to get the car legs out. I decided to roll through my old stomping grounds of academia, Western Michigan University’s campus. So often I get so caught up in the present and the future that I neglect to take time to reflect on the past. There is something about nostalgia that really gives you perspective on how far you’ve come. I rolled by several different residences I lived at and waves of memories came rolling over me. I realized that my life pre-cycling and post-cycling have been two different worlds. It felt like I was looking back on another person’s life other than my own. Pre two wheels I lacked any defined direction. Although my addiction/dedication to this sport now leads me in different directions, my ultimate focus is straight and narrow. As I’ve stated before, riding my bike has proven to be the single most effective catalyst of self-improvement in my life.

After my recovery stroll down memory, I settled in at my gracious host house to some warm pizza, a few beers, and a spectation of some slow-motion Redwing hockey.

As morning rolled around, I woke up with that familiar giddy feeling that one only gets when you know you are going to get to ride your bike hours on end for the day. I arrived at the race with ample time to spare and set up my cornucopia of self-support. This was my virgin attempt at self-supporting myself in an enduro event. Despite having a successful day, I must say, it was quite lonely.

As we rolled around the course warming up I spoke to several riders/racers whom I had never met before but were commending me on my ride/victory at 12hrs of Boyne. It seems that most everyone there had learned that I was training for this year’s 24hr Worlds and took time to wish me their best. The added support from local riders was great motivation!

I’ll keep my actual race report/description short, as it is pretty uneventful. We started as a mass start. As the gun sounded, I took the wholeshot and never saw anyone again until I started lapping some of the other riders. I managed to get in 17 laps for the day, take the victory in the solo category as well as stay on the same lap as the winning teams for the day. Although the competition at this race may not of been at the caliber I will be facing in Canmore, the value of the confidence a victory instills is worth a lot.

I’ve been viewing these races much like ladder rungs. They are all steps I need to take to get to the top of the ladder come July 25th.

If racing my MTB for 8 hours was not enough, when I finished I quickly hoped in my car to roll over to Mount Pleasant to join up with my skinny-tired WSC teammates and participate the next day in the 105 mile last stop on Le Tour De Mont stage race.

Tour De Mont Cliffnotes: I had a feeling that this race, being a flat course, would cater to an early successful break so I was quite attentive early on. I put myself in a few early gaps but nothing materialized. Then a break containing the heads of state rolled off the front and I instantly knew that was the equation I needed to plug myself into. I jumped and got about 25 feet off the back of the break and started to waiver. I had a few riders that followed me up. However, after I slowed up a bit, the remaining riders jumped hard and left me to suffer out the last bit of the gap. I have no excuses, I didn’t have it. That last 25 feet may as well of been a mile, my top end was shot after the prior days race. Eventually I was scooped up by the field and held on for a 105-mile day of moto-pacing.

I ended up rolling into town with the pack. Although I didn’t post a result, I was content that my legs still felt strong and that I had engaged in a weekend that was well spent and was a great training investment.

So that brings us to today. I am now on summer vacation from work until 9/8. I can now live the illusion that I am a full-time racer for about three months. This weeks highlights so far have included:
1. My Superfly cracking
2. My computer breaking
3. Watching two great movies in one day (my rest day) The Hangover, and Gran Torino
4. Winning the Thursday Night Waterford Hills Road Racing Series Race.

In years past, I have been so excited for my last day of work I could barely contain myself. This year everything feels different. I am a bit more ambivalent about the whole thing. It’s amazing how one’s perspective changes given time, distance, and experience.

Stay tuned...

LUST

2009-06-11T14:38:00.000-07:00

"It will be mine...oh yes, it will be mine"
-Wayne Campbell

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that this bike will be available by July 25th.

For those of you who have not had the pleasure yet...allow me to introduce the all new Superfly 100 FS. A few noted features:
1. The lightest 100mm travel FS frame to ever come out of the Trek Factory...26 or 29inch!
2. OCLV Carbon. In house baby, not Taiwan
3. Integrated BB bearings. Just like the ones we all love so much on our new Madones.

So there you have it, try not to drool on your keyboard.

The Mohican MAY-hem Denouement

2009-06-02T19:33:00.000-07:00

Photo ©: Mark Farmer

Despite some race cancellations (12-Hours of Addison), May-hem (my experimental journey of 24hr solo World Championship attrition preparation) seemed to wrap itself up on what I am going to consider a good note.

After much mental reluctance, I decided to face the big dogs and venture down to Southern Ohio for the Mohican 100. This race boasts 11,000 feet of climbing and 100 miles of gnarly, gut-wrenching single track, large rocks and roots, and some very hilly dirt roads, double track, and a sprinkle of Amish Country.

I deem this one the race of the unknown. I knew no specifics about the course or what was around any corners. In fact, at 10:00pm the evening prior, I didn’t even know where I was going to rest my head that night!

Despite the adversity, I made it to the line the following morning at 7:00am. As I looked to my left I was staring at Tinker Juarez, MTB legend. As I look to my right I see Chris Eatough, 6-Time 24hr Solo World Champion. Over my shoulder is Jeremiah Bishop, National MTB Marathon Champion among many other extremely talented and well-established MTB racers who don’t really have 9 to 5s. This field was chalked with talent and riders as far as the eye could see.

I’ll be honest, I did not go into this race harboring any delusions that I was not in over my head or that I would be able to have a shot at winning a race of this caliber. My main objective was to face some of the bigger names of the sport as well as survive after a 12hr race a mere 6 days prior.

Photo ©: Mark Farmer

As the siren sounded to start the race I stayed as close to the front as possible. After a lung-searing climb out of town we hit the dirt only to be greeted by the first of a few run-up walls covered in mud. As I crested this hill I found myself at the tail end of the front group. I looked back and didn’t see any other riders anywhere; hundreds of riders had quickly dissipated.

In the next miles I simply strived to hang onto the wheel in front of me. About twenty miles in I crashed hard on a slick wood bridge and initially thougth for sure I broke my clavicle. After I picked myself up and gave myself a passing grade on my body part inventory I ventured onward.

The next 80 miles translated to a blur of downright scary, technical descents, lots of climbing, more run-ups, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, dehydration because I was down to one bottle after the crash, and some heart to heart conversations with myself of why I choose this physical abuse as my method for definition. In the midst of all this I found my legs feeling pretty good. As we neared the finish I started picking off riders who had blown up from early efforts.

I rolled across the line in 16th place. If you were to ask me to wager at the start line if I would take top 20 in this race I most likely would have said no. I was content with my finish. Additionally, I was satisfied with my physical state upon race completion. Honestly, if we would have had to go for another 100-mile lap I would have been up for it.

A hundred mile race is a mere sprint compared to a 24hr race. I’m amazed at how the top-notch guys at this discipline start these races like they only have ten miles to race. My hats are off to my fellow Michigan racers who simply killed it at this race, you guys amaze me and I have utmost respect for you (Christian Tanguy 2nd Place, Mike Simonson 4th Place, Greg Kuhn 12th place) Although I was not up there duking out with the heads of state I do feel I was at least competitive in this race. I finished only a few spots back from Chris Eatough and in front of Ernesto Marachin, both names who have done historically well at the 24hr Solo World Championships.

I was worried going into this race that if I performed very poorly that I would start mentally psyching myself out and believing that I don’t belong at 24hr Worlds this year. This race is a huge aspiration of mine, albeit a pipe dream. Tom O’Rourke, a cyclist on the 1956 US Olympic Cycling Team at the age of 17, recently told me some very poignant words, “Well, it all begins with a pipe dream…that’s all it ever was for me a pipe dream.”

57 days and counting...

2009-05-28T04:13:00.001-07:00

A 12-hour Celebration of Gravitational Potential Energy

2009-05-26T19:17:00.000-07:00

Whenever I need reminding of how beautiful Michigan is, I head up north. This past weekend in Boyne City was not only a reminder but also an eye opener to even more beauty than I had been previously exposed to.

The Event: 12 hours of Boyne Mt.
The Objective: Build some quality trail/race hours before the big show.
The Goal: Break the previously held solo record of 13 laps.

Armed with a good night sleep courtesy of our generously hospitable accommodations from the Smith family, and filled with a stomach of breakfast from Boyne’s local diner Betty’s, we set off to the start line with ample time to set up this past Saturday morning.

The race began with the traditional Lemond start. At the sound of the gun I quickly ran to my big-wheeled steed, secured my front wheel and was off with the front-runners. Soon later, I found myself in the third position just behind the leading 4-man and 2-man team elite riders.

My first lap boasted a respectable 45min; par with the fastest team laps, as did my 3rd-6th laps. At around the 5-hour mark, I knew I was well ahead of the other racers in my category. Keeping the end in mind, I had to rely on the intrinsic motivation tank to fuel myself to keep pushing hard. At this point, the race was no longer about competition with fellow riders, but rather myself.

My weapon of choice for this race was my HiFi Pro equipped with a 1.9 Bontrager XR-1 in the rear and a 2.1 Bontrager XDX in the front. Also, I wore my newly acquired Bontrager Race X-Lite MTB shoes. This set up was clearly optimal as I can report excellent handling on the descents, a complete absence of any back pain over the 12-hour period, and very minimal hot spots in my feet.

This course is a bit challenging, as there are very little sections where you are not climbing or descending. The estimated elevation gain per lap was in the neighborhood of 1200ft. The HiFi pro not only descended like a comfortable couch but also climbed quite well with virtually no pedal induced bobbing.

Usually I don’t ride/race with any music. However, this day was an exception. I brought along a carefully constructed playlist, sure to spark emotion and drive. Some of the artists that came along on my ride with me included Ben Harper, the 1985 Rad soundtrack, Cash, Beastie Boys, some quintessential Rage, and a dash of The Postal Service.

Time passed quickly and my lap times seemed to not waiver any more or less than within a 5-minute window. The consistency was reassuring and reinforcing to my confidence. At 10:55, I set out on my 14th lap…a record setting lap. Additionally, it was the same lap that the leading 4-man and 2-man teams were currently on.

Just before I rolled out, I hugged and kissed my girlfriend and informed her that this lap was for my late brother. As I hammered out that last lap, I reflected on my brother’s life, his passion, and his loving nature. I pretended I was in a stadium, riding my heart out while he was in the stand watching in admiration and pride. I felt close to him, I felt as if he was with me and over my shoulder encouraging me. As I rolled across the finish line and threw my hands up in the air in victory and tried to visualize myself sharing a hand in the air and the victory with him. Despite the absence of his presence, this race helped me understand that his impact and inspiration can still be felt. That thought alone means more to me than any race records, victories, bragging rights, or prize money.

Realization and self-actualization, this is what keeps me turning the cranks.

The landscape of Northern Michigan was so enticing post race; we couldn’t help but stay two more days to partake in further trail exploration, morel hunting, copious amounts of celebratory oat soda, and the camaraderie of some great friends.

My sincere gratitude goes out to all who came to support me under the Gary Fisher tent (I think we had twenty deep at one point), Tom and Sandy Smith, Alan Smith, Amy and her brother Brian, Lily and Alex, my closest team mate Angela, and Doug Smith.

One last note: On May 24th, 2009, a culinary genius who goes by the name of Dave constructed a potato morel leek soup that was so delicious it changed my life…I will never be the same, thank you.

The Skinny on TOKV

2009-05-19T09:57:00.001-07:00

I hold this race dear to my heart as it was the first road race I ever did years back. I thrive on the attrition it requires and the attention to detail it takes to race it.

Despite some tactful mistakes I committed this year, I admit it was a fun race and another rung on the ladder leading to the Big Show.

Frankly, I’m kind of exhausted from writing/reading detailed race reports to the likes of, “then I did this, then that happened, then I dug deep, then blah blah blah attacked, yada yada yada”. So I’ll simply break it down to this: this race was the first time the WSC has been put in a defensive position this season and needless to say, we were caught with our pants down gasping for air. The fact of the matter is, two teams in particular flat out bested our ride and as a result, claimed a deserved victory. It was a well fought battle, and to every battle comes a victor and a spoil…we were the spoil.

The top WSC finishers were Cruise at 11th, Myself at 13th, and Mr. Cavender at 16th (I call him that now because he’s a big 21 year old as of Wednesday). My head is not hanging low as many big name riders did not even finish the race. Chalk it up to a learning experience…until next time.

Like a girl all dressed for the prom with no date…

2009-05-14T18:04:00.001-07:00

Like a groom waiting at the alter only to find out his bride has jumped ship. The plan was to race 12 hours of Addison Oaks this past weekend. I spent considerable time prepping myself, my equipment, my gear, my nutrition, scoping the course out, etc. I was even in bed by 8:00 the evening before.

Low and behold, I showed up at Addison eager and ready to race at 7:45am the day of only to be greeted by the disappointing news that due to a thunderstorm and the current trail conditions, the race is being rescheduled to next weekend. This news was a bit disheartening as I already have a conflicting race the following weekend. So, the next on the MTB schedule is 12 hours of Boyne on May 23rd. I was so looking forward to spending quality time with my HiFi Pro.

In an effort to make the best of a disappointing situation, I decided to head over to Demo Days at Island Lake with the hopes of escaping the inclement weather. I did not succeed. However, due to the fact that I had glycogen oozing out of my pores from my 12 hour prep, we decided to just embrace the filth and get nice and muddy.

Sometimes we don’t always get what we want…at least the day did not resemble the Dirt, Sweat and Gears race!

The Month of MAY-hem

2009-05-04T18:50:00.001-07:00

I’m deeming this month as a bit of an experimental journey of attrition. Adhering to the Waldon philosophy of racing being the best form of training, I'm keeping the ultimate goal in mind. I’m not sure how I’ll hold up but I am striving to be very cognizant of proper recovery. I hope for great things to come.

Here's how the MAY-hem unfolds:

May 3rd Cone Azalia (report below)

May 9th 12 Hours of Addison

May 16th Tour of Kensington Valley

May 23rd 12 hours of Boyne

May 30th Mohican 100

Cone Report: FYI- I stole this photo from TMS

I fell in love with this survival fest ever since my maiden crack at it some years back. Unfortunatly, bouts with luck and misfortune have never brought me to the line in a placing I found contentment with. Whether it be getting stopped by the train in the break or crashing 300m from the line...the list goes on.

This year, Cone files into the “epic” category of my resume. Here’s the short, I flatted on the first lap. After yelling a few obscenities, my selfless teammate Alan offered me his rear wheel. I can’t thank Alan enough, it was his virgin Pro 1-2 race and he sacrificed himself for the betterment of the team only 15 minutes into the race…that’s team! The new wheel led to a few miles of giving chase. Luckily the field was not moving along too fast yet and I was able to make contact comfortably. Lap 3 led to a break of three men including my teammate Cruise. Moments later I found myself in a 4 man chase break with a healthy sizeable gap and all of the heads of state represented. We eventually made contact with the lead break, were satisfied with the equation, and were off working in cohesive synergy. With two laps to go, all bets were off…we started racing each other. Cruise and I had to cover a few attacks but I was confident we were the strongest of the group. Patience led to a final solid result, with Cruise respectively claiming the win while I was right behind him to share the podium spot at 2nd place.

The WSC started with 12 men and while the entire team was not able to finish, I do feel everyone played a role in the ultimate success of the race. My gratitude extends to my entire team. We rode with wings of eagles.

Wolverine / American Cycle & Fitness Cat 1/2 placings: 1) Cruise Bogedin 2) Tim Finkel 12) Luke Cavender 14) Scott Kroske 18) Simon Bailey 22) Cory Dubrish 24) Ray Dybowski 25) Alan Smith 29) Adam McClounie 30) Jeff Weinert 31) Matt Baroli 35) John Sammut