Ciociaro Series Race #1

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!

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

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…

“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

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

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

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.