The Gift of Flight

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.

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

"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

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...

A 12-hour Celebration of Gravitational Potential Energy

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

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.