X-mas Cross and MTB follies is now live on bikereg

click it and get ready to enjoy all the fun.
http://www.BikeReg.com/promoter/logos.asp?EventID=11972

X-Mas cross & MTB Follies

To kick off the end of the cross season, team bicycle therapy will be hosting the return of the X-Mas cross and MTB Follies. This was a race that the shop used to promote back in the days when people did cross races on old steel clunkers cobbled together from leftovers in the basement or junkyard. In this vain we will be holding this race the day before the Bilenky Junkyard Cross race for an extra special weekend of cross as only the city of brotherly can provide, full of shenanigans and tetanus shots. The "Follies" race will be held on December 18th up on the Belmont plateau and the Junkyard cross will be held amongst the twisted metal that the boys at Bilenky call home.

More details will follow.

There will also be a party Saturday night

So this lasr wekend a few of the team went up to race in Providence RI and a few went up to NY to do the westwood race. for the rest of us it was a weekend off. which means long rides with coffee in manyunk and a dutch pancake (pannkoeken) party. Here are a few shots of the weekend, cause you know we can't be bothered to write up a race report.

Meisha never stops surprising me, like when on Saturday he pulled out musette bag for carrying home baguettes.

On Sunday's ride we saw something on the side of the road that reminded us that big pussies needs love to.

Some people think the handkerchief hanging out of the back pocket looks cool. Mikey, on the other hand, likes the pancakerchief. mm panckaes and beer.
These two are shots of the consequences of the first real muddy race last weekend (town hall). I finally got to use the hose in my back for something other than ....
Mr.T's water war!

Townhall Cross Men's B Race Report...

Last Saturday, Willem and I hopped in the Focus and blazed up the Northeast Extension to Bethlehem, PA for the first annual Townhall Cross Race. On the way up we made our usual stop at Wawa for their pretzels and clean facilities (race day always gives me a nervous stomach.)

We did a pre-ride and the course was pretty compact...there weren't a lot of fast power sections, but lots and lots of fun up and downs and off-camber turns as well as the main event: St. Luke's Staircase, a long slog up a hill with somewhere around a half-dozen switchbacks. It ended with a nasty, slick kicker at the top that a lot of people ended up running.

I ended up starting in the first row for the first time ever and wasted no time in taking the holeshot. However, my time at the front was short-lived, but I did get a brief moment of glory as we ascended St. Luke's Staircase for the first time. Willem and I were right at the front and we both rode the steep, slick top part. Somebody behind us was impressed and yelled out something along the lines of "WAY TO GO, BICYCLE THERAPY! RIDE IT!" which got me psyched.

Willem got into a pretty select group after the top of the hill and I didn't see him again until after the race when I asked him how he did (he won, taking Team BT's first cross scalp of the season.) I faded back a little bit, lost a few spots but then found my rhythm.

One of the fun things about cross is that even though you may be out of the race at the front, you can still find yourself in an epic battle somewhere in the middle, and I spent the final three laps of the race duking it out with two dudes for 6-8th place. I ended up finishing 7th...one dude I just couldn't catch and the other dude I did everything short of tackling him to keep him from passing me. At one point, I slid out on a turn passing a lapped rider and spread my entire body out in front of him to prevent him from getting by. I apologized for racing like a dick afterwards and we laughed about it...reason number 3497239472 why cross rules. If that had happened in a road race there would have been a fist fight in the parking lot. Matt Allyr and Eric Oishi, I only know your names from the results on USACycling.com, but we had an awesome couple of laps and I look forward to crossing swords again. I fricking love bike racing.

After the B race, Team BT had a couple of people in the later races. Meisha took 5th in the 55+ Masters race. While cheering him on, Willem and I had the following exchange:

Willem (cheering on random Masters riders): "C'mon! Keep it up! Keep it up!"

Jack: "Dude, that's fucked up! Don't tell a masters rider to keep it up! They probably hear that shit all the time!"

I kid, I kid.

There was only one women's race, so Nathalie and Linda took on a pretty stacked field in the 1/2/3/4 race...Linda ended up 10th and Nathalie 13th.

All in all, an awesome day of racing...great weather, great dudes and ladies, and AM beers in the parking lot after the race.

(re)gluing tires

As some well known blogger (bsnyc) once wrote, you're not serious until you've started to use adhesive to mount your tires. It seems like everybody and their pet chihuahua is blogging these days about proper tire gluing technique. Its been a while since our last post and we here at team BT, after long deliberation at team meetings (the bar), have decided to prepare a tutorial for our ever faithful audience on how to properly mount a tubular (or power bottom). Now a few words of caution, team BT's interest in tire mounting as of late has come about by the early season cross races that have tested our gluing techinique more than the limits of our strength and endurance (nobody on the team even broke a sweat at nittany). So far the team is 2 for 3 in the last three races in how many times a team member has rolled a tire.

Discalimer: none of these were glued at the shop.

So when asking about mounting technique our ever verbose wellspring of knowledge Mikey Green had this to say:

I would, but I'm out of town.

Just make sure you apply several layers to each the rim and the tire using thin even coats. I've found the V.Mastik to dry rather quickly which makes it a bit difficult the control.. Here are some tips:

work in small sections. Apply a bead of glue between spoke holes and spread. Once you get the flow, work slightly larger sections.

Rim, rim, tire, tire. By the time you've glued each four components, the first glued will be dry enough to apply another layer. Aim for three coats on each tire and rim. Remember thin even coats covering entire base tape and edge to edge on the rim. It's easiest to inflate the tire to keep shape and bend it to a figure eight.

Once all layers are on and dry, apply a bead all the way around the rim and spread it quickly. This is the wet coat. Tire will be mounted almost immediately.

Take deep breath.

Get your tire and insert the valve stem. Stretch the tire and set it in the rim bed in 6 inch increments. Stretch evenly. By the tome you get to the final section it should snap on with a little thumb effort.

Now make sure it is straight using the base tape around the stem area as a reference. Spin it and adjust any high or low spots as needed. Inflate more and make micro adjustments.

You're done. Now do it again with the other wheel and grab a victory beer.

M.g.

Or you can take Jacks approach: "its arts and craft time, lets glue one thing to another, C'mon we learned this in grade school"

Kirkwood

We can all learn some lessons from the 4 race at Kirkwood this past weekend. For starters, if you want to block for a teammate on a breakaway, all you have to do is ride like 95% of the Tuesday night Drives Ride. Act like you just don't quite have what it takes to pull through to the front, but refuse to drop out of rotation. Andrew Satinsky nailed that act this weekend, allowing me to get enough of a gap on a two-man break that I thought we might be able to stay away.

Which brings us to lesson two: Know the guy next to you. If he makes you a little nervous, ignore it. It's a 4 race, for crying out loud. Everybody is a little shaky on race day. But if he makes you a lot nervous, trust your gut. He's probably going to half-wheel you down a hill and put you into the split-rail fence at the bottom. By the time we got bikes untangled and got rolling, the main field had us in their sights again, and the break was over. Time to sit up and get some rest before the inevitable bunch sprint, right?

Wrong. Lesson three: The punishment WILL fit the crime. Andrew was pretty harshly punished for his excellent teamwork, and got hung out to dry on the front of the pack for the better part of a lap. On a pretty windy day, no less. By the time we pulled on to the final straight, a mile long false flat into a steady headwind, our fate was sealed. I didn't have enough left in my legs to bring the pace up and string things out, so when I looked back at 1k to go and saw Andrew over my shoulder with the rest of the field spread 6-deep across both lanes just behind him, I knew our fate was sealed. God bless him for trying, though.

And after he went for it, and the pack engulfed us, and we chatted across the finish line into 22nd and 23rd places, there were a few LHLs in the trunk to take some of the sting out of bitter, bitter defeat.

We'll conclude today's exercise with lesson four: If you're going to lose, do it in good company. It also doesn't hurt to know that there's a bushel of steamed crabs waiting for you just a 15 mile ride away, to know that you're going to spend the evening breathing clean suburban air tinged with horse manure instead of whatever it is that fills the Delaware, and that in the morning you're going to ride home shoulder to shoulder with people you CAN trust not to edge you off the road.


















Oh, and smores. Smores help too.

Brownstown 2/3 Race Report...

Last weekend, Team BT was represented in both the 4 and 2/3 races at Brownstown. Ansel, Andy, Mike Mast and Brendan did the 4. Dan, Willem and I rounded out the squad for the 2/3. I’ll let the boys in the 4 race do their own race report.

It was really toasty when we lined up…somewhere north of 90 degrees. However, there was a steady breeze throughout the race that kept things from getting too hot and also made position in the pack very important.

The course was great…it was relatively flat, with a lot of turns and a super fun section with a loose chip road.

The Team BT plan was to sit in for a while and see how things went before trying to animate the race. Willem attacked a few times early and Dan kept things interesting as well, trying to bridge solo to an early break and then trying to get away later in the race. I hadn’t raced since Turkey Hill the first week of May, so my strategy was to sit in and see if I could seize an opportunity at the end.

As per usual, the break that stuck was one that we didn’t get into. 7 or 8 guys got away, with plenty of teammates in the field to block/chase down attacks, so with about two to go we were working on getting a good result in the field sprint.

For some reason, I lost track of which lap we were on…I thought the penultimate lap was the last one, and put in some good work moving myself up to 5th wheel. I sat on the wheel of everyone trying to get up the road, maintaining my position but definitely drawing the ire of some of my fellow racers. I buried myself keeping this position and readying myself for what I thought would be the final sprint.

With about a mile and a half to go, I heard a spectator call out “Great job, only one more to go!” My heart sank. While this wasn’t as dramatic as sprinting to “victory” on the penultimate lap and then realizing there was still one to go, I was pretty cooked and dropped back into the pack. I worked my way back up to the middle of the pack on the final lap, but couldn’t get any closer.

In the end, Dan factored into the field sprint, placing 13th overall (and 1st Cat 3!!!) . I wasn’t close enough to the front to bother with sprinting, so I rolled in at 29th overall, 10th Cat 3. Willem got gapped a little bit with 4 to go and ended up getting pulled.

All in all, a good day on the road and we celebrated in our usual fashion with beers immediately after the race. Even if the race doesn’t go exactly right for you, it’s always a good day when you finish with the rubber side down, drinking a Magic Hat in the parking lot.

Rapha Gentleman's Race - Cornwall, CT

Last weekend, Team BT was lucky enough to be invited to Rapha's East Coast Gentleman's race.

The course started in Litchfield, CT and went into MA and NY at points. ~115 miles, somewhere between 9000-12000 feet of climbing (depening on who was counting!), 40% gravel roads. You basically have teams of 6 and you all have to finish together. They stagger the start times of teams based on perceived team strength.

Our squad of gentlemen included myself, Gerald, Brendan and Mikey Green. Our good friends Joe Reynolds and Donny Green were nice enough to ride with us as ringers to round out our group. They ended up being awesome additions, riding strong all day.

BT ended up 3rd behind Eastman and Team Embrocation. However, we had the 2nd fastest time of a team that finished all six dudes. Jonathan Adler got 5 people finishing ahead of us, but were DQ'd for losing a guy.

I have never suffered on a bike they way that I did on Saturday. I had been in Wichita, KS for the past two weeks, riding nothing but flat, straight roads. I got back into Philly at midnight on Friday and was on the road for CT at 4:30am. Not a great start to what would end up being an insanely hard day.

The majority of the climbing was on two endless gravel hills...I'm not sure of the exact distance of each, but the first one took about 45 minutes to get up. 45 minutes of 8-15% grade on gravel. I'm talking going 7mph spinning a 60 cadence in my 39x26. I'm usually totally solid going uphill, but I did not have it this day. I was cramping by mile 40. I actually had to stop for a little bit going up the second big climb, and I'm not too proud to admit that Joe pushed me uphill on at least two separate occasions. These climbs were evil...they just kept going and going and going.

As a cruel joke, they sent us up one last insanely steep, shorter hill about 10 miles from the finish, aptly named Everest Hill road. I had to paperboy it going up. I hit some gravel on the side of the road, both my thighs cramped and I came to a complete stop and tipped over. A lot of the ride was being photographed by Rapha and I was very glad that they didn't catch that!

All of the parts of the ride that didn't suck were some of the best riding ever...I've never been up to that area before and it was beautiful. The roads were great and scenic there were a few long, fast descents with switchbacks that were amazing and so much fun to ride. If you asked me immediately after finishing if I would ever do that ride again, I would have said emphatically "fuck no", but by today I've forgotten how hard it was and how I can't wait to do it again next year!

Big thanks to the folks from Rapha, not only for putting on an awesome event and also for putting us up (not to mention putting up WITH us) for a few nights.

The ride was documented extensively by Rapha with photos and video, and I'll be sure to post links as soon as they hit the web. I apologize for the lack of details in this report, but I spent the entire 7.5 hours in the pain cave and my memories are pretty foggy.

Results:

1: The Eastmans (7hrs 43min)
2: Embrocation 6:40
3:Bicycle Therapy 7:25
4: HUP UNITED 8:15
5: Rapha Racing NYC 8:00
6: Rapha Continental 8:17
7: Geekhouse 9:23
8: Seven 9:38
9: Fifth Street Cross 9:45
10: Independent Fabrication 10:10
11: Bilenky 10:55 (all tandems)
12: Adler *Finished a man down 7:15
13: Pedro's *Finished a man down 7:30
14: BH/Garneu *Finished a man down 7:34

Race Report: Farmersville Road Race 2/3

Tough race on Saturday...8 laps of 6.6 miles...~54 miles total. It was pretty flat, with a lot of long straightaways and then a lot of sections with tight turns.

Out of ~70+ starters, I ended up 14th overall and 4th among Cat 3s.

I had a bad start off the line as well and i spent 6 of the 8 laps in the back 1/3 of the race. I was really hurting on the first couple of laps and wondering why I even do this. There were a bunch of turns and I was sprinting out of the saddle to catch back on after every turn. Seriously, the course was like a giant 9-corner crit.

Once we hit an hour in, you could tell that a lot of the really powerful crit dudes who usually only race for 60 minutes were slowing down. I was moving up little by little and the more I moved up, obviously the less work i was doing.

On the last lap I was moving up on the side just as an attack went off the front...in the confusion, the field strung out a little and cleared the road enough where I was able to catch on to the back of the attack, which put me at fifth wheel or so with 3 miles to go.

There was a United Health Group dude off the front who nobody was interested in chasing. There were a couple of fake attacks, but everybody was interested in racing for 2nd place it seemed.

I messed up a little bit responding to one of the fake attacks just before 1km to go and lost my solid position and ended up on the front. I stayed there a little too long and lost a couple of places when the next attack happened. I was able to catch a wheel going into the last turn, but I was now far enough back that I knew I wasn't going to have a chance to win the field sprint.

I picked a few dudes off on the finishing stretch, but I was kicking myself for losing my spot with 2k to go. I totally had a moment when I panicked and thought to myself 'what am I doing here, I don't belong here, these dudes are all 2s, how did I end up at the front?' and lost concentration long enough to end up in the wind a little too long...so I ended up sprinting for top 20 and not top 10.

Still, i'm psyched on the result. I feel like i've been just riding and not racing in races so far this season, and I was definitely racing at the end yesterday.

Andy picked up a 6th in the Cat 5 race...I'm sure he'll post a race report as well.

What was looming in the distance. Subtitle: Battenkill and it's aftermath. Pt. 1

When you sign up for a race with a five month wait til you're actually on the start line you tend to find yourself thinking about it a lot. It becomes a centerless and uncertain way of thinking and planning for an event . Questions start coming into play that challenge your best laid plans, never mind any actual tangible obstacles such as sickness or injury, those roadblocks swell to the level of the point of abject failures.
Of course, I write of the Tour of Battenkill. As many times I tell myself that the race is a paltry sixty-something mile ride the likes of I've done countless times prior in my riding habits, I think back to previous experiences I've had in the race or one of my team mates is there to co-conspire my tranquility with their own anxieties. The kicker is that this is an ongoing theme for five months. Five months. I am not a man born of complete consistency, nor do I have the desire or attention for too many things too far in the future. My way of going into this is to lay out a decent plan where I might be able to get a bit more caught up in one week following the next and so on until the last few weeks are in sight. When I get troubled or need a little reminder of what's to come, I tend to shift my thoughts to things more insignificant and palpable. One of my favorite reminders being equipment. Let's look at tires, will I want to change my saddle, will these bottle cages eject my belongings as soon as I hit the first dirt section? These thought remind me that the race is coming but give more footing as far as I feel like I am planning the right way more so than the physiological guessing that I can easily get wrapped up in. Will my legs work, am I overdoing this, do I go up hills decent enough?
It's easier for me to quell my team mates' concerns that it is to quiet my own. I tell them it's a not that crazy of a race. I know that it's not, but no one is too assured when I say it. Not even me.
Let's not get too involved in the lead up to the race, at least not the first four months. Suffice to say that I got on the bike a lot, both here in the frigid north east and in sunnier climes of Florida, I got out on some fantastic long rides, I made sure to hit up some dirt roads for good measure. I'll also spare you the details of getting sick and feel like there was never any way I was going to be in good enough shape to race. When you feel like everything you are doing is preparation for something, the sense of purpose in you has a way to exaggerate all fears to an ultimate finality.
With a month to go all nagging questions have to be stifled. Again I typically turn towards preparing equipment. The basement becomes a whirl of work, glue and grease. After riding through the thaw here much needs attention. Bottom brackets come out, get cleaned and re-installed. Oh good, that creaking is gone. Race wheels get pulled out from the bags and inspected, new tubulars get stretched and prepped. I search around all my parts and wonder why I have so many used cassettes lying around and if they'll work with my chain. Nope, they sure don't. Time to buy an new chain and cassette. (Do I throw out the used ones? No way. Damned if I know why I don't.)

The day to glue new tires is a fun one for me. I like the process, I truly do. The way I feel about it is like this: If I'm going to glue one set of wheels, I'd might as well glue a few more. The process becomes that much bigger and demands more efficiency. Total like. A team mate drops a set of wheels he wants glued and now I've got a party on my hands. On a nice day I like to do this outside on the patio. It looks like this:
A miniature service course. With all mechanic duties finished, the last part of the wait time is to be filled with travel arrangements, finding pretty much the entire accumulation of apparel and accessory you might have given the unpredictability of the weather up in the northern reaches of eastern New York, and the finishing touches of training to ready one's self for the upcoming task. That'll be part two. Soon.

Union Grove 2/3 Race Report....

After getting split from the main field in the crosswinds at the Philly Phlyer, I was down in the dumps. I finished the race, but off the back. I felt like I’d forgotten how to keep a wheel in front of me, and when I rode the Drives the following Tuesday, my fears were compounded when I kept letting gaps open in front of me and was having a tough time closing them back up.

I had a long, easy ride to NYC on my calendar for the weekend, but with Battenkill looming a mere 2.5 weeks away, I felt like I wanted to get some more racing in my legs.

I saw the Union Grove 2/3 race on BikeReg, and asked if anyone else wanted to get some racing in over the weekend. Willem signed up before I had even made up my mind to race and then Gerald was enlisted after some gentle arm-twisting.

For some reason, the idea of doing a 2/3 race terrified me. As a recently upgraded 3, I had cut my teeth on 4/5 and 4 races, doing only the occasional 3/4. Doing an elite race conjured up images of Dominique Rollin lapping the 1/2/3 field at Greentree in 2008 without breaking a sweat, or the Rite Aid boys dropping the hammer from the whistle at Lower Providence that same year, shedding 75% of the field in the first three laps.

The race was going to be 11 laps of a 4.6-mile circuit. We didn’t really talk strategy on the drive out to Amish country, we talked survival. We figured that we’d hang for as long as we could, and would consider it a success if we were still in the main field with 5 laps to go.

We got to the race, and there were two French-Canadian riders with international licenses signing in ahead of us. Their licenses said Cat 1 and their tan lies said that they had probably been doing a lot of training/racing someplace other than Montreal. They told the promoters that they were Cat 2 in the U.S. Willem shot me a knowing glance…we were outclassed. Totally fucked. We’d be lucky to make it through the first lap without getting spit out the back.

We lined up and tried to keep things light, chatting with a few friendlies from TriStateVelo about cross and drinking (Team BT’s two favorite subjects.) Looking around, lining up for a 2/3 race was a lot different than a lower category race. Now I know that looks can be deceiving on the starting line of an amateur bike race, but our starting group was a goober-free zone. There wasn’t a helmet mirror or hairy leg in sight. We took our position where we thought we belonged…towards the back.

The starting whistle blew and off we went. Of course it took me two tries to get clipped in. I looked up, expecting to see the field a half-mile down the road already. Nope, they were still there and I caught right on.

A funny thing happened as we started the second lap. I felt good. I was riding well and I felt comfortable within the group. The speed was high, but the race was smooth. It was a lot different than even the 3/4 races I’d done…everybody seemed comfortable riding really close to each other, nobody slammed their brakes going into turns and there was a lot less of the hot-headed in-race verbal instruction that is all too common in the lower categories.

The course was pretty fast…only a few corners and a few power climbs. Nothing really hard enough to cause a big selection, but enough technical sections to keep it from being a straight-up drag race. There were a couple of straightaways through wide-open farmland where positioning within the pack was key to avoid crosswinds.

As the race went on, I felt more and more comfortable and even moved up and spent some time up at the front. Gerald never met a break he didn’t want to try to get in, so he tried his hardest to get away, to no avail. As the “Laps to Go” sign ticked down, I kept waiting for someone to drop the hammer and outclass us and out us as the soft posers that we came into the race feeling like we were.

It never happened. I kept feeling better and better and started feeling more like I was racing than just trying to hang on.

I wish that I could conclude this report by saying that Willem and I formed a leadout train for Gerald on the last lap, putting him in perfect position for a sprint victory.

Unfortunately, this isn’t that kind of story.

A couple of guys stayed off the front to win. Another small group chasing those guys got in a few seconds before the main pack.

However, we all finished with the main pack. Gerald rolled in first at 17^th, I wasn’t far behind at 35^th and Willem ended up 54^th after getting caught behind a guy who broke his chain.

If you are a numbers person, it was a pretty unimpressive result for Team BT. Nobody in the money, and aside from a few of Gerald’s attacks, we didn’t really animate the race or try to play all of our cards.

However, considering the fact that we were hoping to simply survive half the race, we considered it a wild success, and we celebrated immediately afterward in true Team BT fashion with some cold Lion’s Head Lights and peanut butter and Nutella sandwiches.

We do this for fun, and any time you finish the race with the rubber side up in a better position than you thought possible, it’s time to celebrate.

Now on to Battenkill!

Philly Phlyer, View from the back

The first race for most of us this season who didn't go to the FL training camp was the collegiate race The Philly Phlyer that also has a 3/4 category. This was a short circuit race of four laps on the west side of Farmount park.
There was much talk of strategy before the race, Jack had done really well last year so everyone wanted to see his murder face cross the line first this year. So the plan was to have most of the team try to start a break, then bring Jack up to that break, then block. Just in case this didn't work Brendan and I were to sit in the whole race saving our selves for the final sprint.

A total of eight teammates lined up at the start, which is a big turn out for any team. The weather was perfect, it was in the 70's and I was worried that I had already gotten too much sun, but the wind was starting to pick up as the race went off.
I assumed my roll and stuck to the wheels infront of me like glue. The group made its way down from memorial hall on to West River Drive and it was easy to see that this was going to be a scary race. Everyone was twitchy, and many riders hadn't ridden in a group for several months. On the first climb there was a crash that nearly took out Jack. As the race went on I could see red and black jerseys go up the road, over and over attacking the field either trying to start a break away or bridge up the an existing one.


As the last lap came up I decided it was time to move to the front or be trapped in the back for ever. My legs felt fresh and I hopped behind Mike Green as we jockeyed for position up front, Brendan and Gerry were also in the mix. Gerry had earlier been part of a breakaway with 3 other strong riders but he had fallen off. By the last lap they where too far up the road and wouldn't be brought back. On the last trip up west river drive Mikey went on a flyer and tried to bridge up the the brake away, putting out a huge effort and staying away from the pack for the whole straight flat stretch but he got caught on the hill.

As we hit the last climb up to Memorial Hall I knew I had to attack on the hill because I wasn't gong to be able to out sprint the field. I went off the front of the field and was the first to top the hill. I was passed in the traffic circle, then as my legs and lungs screamed I was passed a couple more times on the final straight to the finish line. I crossed at 7th place with Brendan close behind at 18th, Gerry 23rd. Jack unfortunately was caught out in the wind a few times, and most of the other teammates burnt themselves out earlier in the race working for the team.
All and all, it was a great start to the season. It was a perfect day and a really fun race. Racing is always better when its in your back yard.
Cheers.

When you test the limits of your mind and body, sometimes shit happens.

With Philadelphia and much of the Eastern Seaboard blanketed with record-breaking snowfall, indoor riding has been the only option. That isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Indoor training forces oneself to make the most of each mind-numbing, minute-watching training session. You ride with purpose and a plan instead of just accumulating junk miles. And, since there seems to be a built in timer which regulates how long one can endure on an indoor trainer—somewhere between 1½-2 hours—recovery (whether planned or accidental) gets its well-deserved attention.

Yesterday was the first time since February 4th I was able to ride my bike outside. That’s seventeen days! Team Bicycle Therapy (minus Willem) planned to meet up and ride the Rockhill WaWa training race—a 2 lap circuit around the Radnor Hunt Club. *Note* rides are often identified from where they depart, usually little or no other significance whatsoever. Take the Bulldog Ride for example: it meets at a statue of a bulldog. Where it goes…I have no idea.

It was a beautiful warm and cloudless day (anything over 40ºF is considered warm these days). The sun was shining bright, which was accentuated by the sparkle of the lingering snow. Team Bicycle Therapy, in full livery, rode double paceline down West River Drive at a casual pace. Everyone had a chance to chat and catch-up on man gossip. It was good to be all together again.

Our team arrived at Rockhill WaWa first. Mischa used the opportunity to give us a secret pep-talk about race tactics and offered up some suggestions. He encouraged us to try something…anything. We are always thankful for his wisdom and guidance.

Riders streamed in from all directions. Though I didn’t know many of the attendees by name, it was still like a reunion, a homecoming of sorts. Pleasantries and hugs were shared by many. Once the group 40 or so was established and settled, we were on our way. The mood was excited and jubilant. Everyone was happy to be playing outside, once again amongst friends.

We made our way to the race course. The 20ish miles in between allowed everyone to stretch their legs and find a comfortable spot in the group. For others, it was a chance to test their legs with short-lived attacks. People looked strong. Everyone’s indoor training has paid off, and it showed.

We all gathered at the start line of the circuit, fully warmed. We paused momentarily for the demarcation of the finishing line. Again, we were off. People were feisty from the start, launching attacks. Most were brought back quickly, but near the end of the first lap there were two riders 100m off the front, daring someone to chase. Coming out of the last corner, Dan L. and I were on the front of the group. I figured I could open a gap while the pack braked into the more-than-90ºcorner. I let off the brakes and jumped on the pedals. I chased hard for a couple kilometers, but couldn’t manage to bridge up to the leading duo. I sat up and waited to get reeled in by the group. This was my something. It was a good go, but not good enough.

I made a tactical error as I was re-absorbed into the peloton. Instead of moving to the far left of the road where I should’ve been, I was on the right—the drive side (a.k.a. the fast lane). As the accelerating group began to pass, I was caught in the gutter with nowhere to go. I squeezed back in line about five or so wheels back, with legs still tingling from the effort. I filed in behind a rider who in the cycling world would be described as a “Clydesdale”, a 200+ pounder. The draft my Clyde provided me was amazing. I was practically sucked right along in a vacuum. Minimal effort was needed to keep pace. I was almost fully recovered.

There is, however, one downside I can think of when riding behind someone that large: Gravity. (One could argue that gravity has been a nuisance ever since that infamous apple landed on Sir Isaac Newton’s head). As the pack rolled along a flattish part of the course, gravity was the least of my concerns, it didn’t even exist. But, when the road tipped upwards, gravity let its awesome presence be known and exerted a tremendous force upon the hefty man ahead of me. To counteract the downward pull, Clyde stepped up on the pedals to supply the drivetrain with more gravity-defying power. This unintentionally caused his rear wheel to shoot back at me faster than my lactic acid addled brain could react to avoid. Before I knew it, my front wheel was overlapped with his rear wheel. Our rubber tires joined and buzzed an awful buzz, which seemed to signal the pack, like a drone to the hive, of the impending danger. 99 times out of 100 this can only result in one thing: road rash. While there is a glimmer of hope, sadly to say, I was not in the lucky percentile. I was on the ground skidding in the gutter out of control.

Helmet Cam Video From Swamp Classic Cat 3 Race...

You can see Dan and Gerry mixing it up a little bit.

I definitely agree with the music choice.

Coming to an end, snowy times are nigh.

The last couple of days of our sunshine trip culminated in a couple of days of racing. One discipline in which we were absolutely novice in, and one that was familiar, but our last experiences were a ways off in the past of our collective memories.
The first was Saturday's team time trial. This, as I think we've all come to find out, is an interesting experiment in team dynamics. The variables are many, and seem to multiply with the amount of people participating. I would say our initial attempt at this sort of race was enlightening, if not a bit dis-organized at times. That said, we rolled in in 5th place. I for one have only desire more to do a race like this again, it's complexities are many and that makes it all the more compelling. I wish I had photos, but as we all raced, alas, we had no one to take them.
Our bikes all aero-ed out for the Saturday's time trial.

Cages came off given the short times of both races.

As soon as we finished the TTT we hurried to get the aero bars off our bikes, the race left a bad taste in our mouths and shedding any superfluous equipment possible seemed an act to salvage a bit of our collective morale.
Thanks for nothing!

Saturday night was a quiet one for us in comparison to the week's previous socializing. We stayed in for the night with our gracious hosts, Niles and Ernie, and were joined by friends Stephen and Lily coming up from Tampa to race in Sunday's criterium.
Even at a decidedly low point, the night was fantastic, we enjoyed wine and other libations and ate some incredible food made by both of our hosts.
Ernie serves it up right!
Sunday found us with rejuvenated spirits, but not without a bit of nervous energy regarding the task for the day. It was the day for the Gainesville downtown crit, a fun, bumpy course with more than its fair share of brick and torn asphalt. If being nervous wasn't enough, it was our last day down south. The sinking feelings crept in as we began to realize the inevitability of our long drive towards the awful, though somewhat characteristic, wintery conditions at home.
That aside, we were treated to a parting gift of dessert for breakfast and coffee by a good friend at a cafe.
Pre-race desserts get us in the mood.

We had four riders riding in three different races. Ansel was going to mix it up in the cat. 5 race, Brendan in the 4's, and Gerry and I in the 3's. Ansel held court at the front of his very short race, being the sole person chasing down a rider with a rapidly diminishing lead off the front. By the last lap though, Ansel decided to set himself up for the bunch sprint and let some others resume chasing the leader whose gap had come down to 10 seconds. Apparently everyone else had the same idea and let the leader go. Ansel more than handily won the field sprint for second.
An unmistakable Ansel powers to the front of the field.
On the bricks, on the hunt.
Brendan's race was almost a cookie cutter crit. One breakaway attempt saw Brendy lead a chase to shut it down, but that was pretty much all the excitement of his race. He played it smart by sitting towards the back and let others dictate the pace, which saw rider after rider shed off the back of the pack lap after lap. In the sprint Brendan could only guess whose wheel to follow towards the line, and finished a respectable 12th for the day. None of us really targeted this weekend of racing as an important one for our season. The goal was a modest one; it's purpose to really flesh out what level of fitness we were at and get comfortable racing again. We weren't not hoping for a win, but I won't say it was the total goal.
Brendy cutting it in over the bricks and looking good.
Looking for a wheel in the sprint.

Gerry and I lined up for our race with a plan to look for, or initiate some breaks to try to get away. Our original plan of going off at the gun got a bit messed up as I missed my pedal and found myself too far from him at the first turn. I did get a chance to start an early attack and 3 others came with me. We held out only for two laps or so before getting caught. I went toward the back of the field as Gerry moved to the front to keep his eye open for other attacks. Thanks to our gorgeous kits for being so standout that I could locate Gerry anywhere he was in the field, and for making our team the absolute best-dressed at the race.
Looking good on the start line.

Gerry got one off with one other rider. I moved to the front to block a bit, but the pack was just surging to get the two of them back. Once together, I took an opportunity to take the race's only cash prime. Handily winning that, I amused myself by completing the lap solo, getting caught at the third and fourth turn.
Gerry going with a promising attack.
On my way to a cash prize.
With four laps to go in the race, it was all but decided that no attack would result in a winning break. Everyone seemed to want it to come down to a field sprint. Gerry and I had a talk, I was to lead him out for the finish. With two to go, we got our way into a good position and by the last turns we were ten wheels back or so. Turning onto the finishing straight I saw a good line with a few wheels to follow, and started ramping it up nice and early to give Gerry a nice launch. A bit of sketchyness at 300 meters caused a blip of hesitation and we had to ramp it up again, only a bit further back than we were. Gerry came around, timing it right, but the best we could pull out was 12th. I sat back down after he launched and rolled in at 19th. Not our best results, but I still feel the race was a success. We rode it the right way, being as dominant and active as we could. When it came down to the finish, we were able to find each other easily and comfortably enact our plan. In the pass-fail nature of crits and bunch sprints, The stars really need to align for a stellar finish. Given a bit of trouble in the finish added to not knowing who to stick to coming into the final run, I feel we did it right. Especially if you think of our whole team finishing top 20 in each of our races, top 12 if you count my lead out as a sacrifice.
One of the watering holes we frequented, Boca Fiesta, is located on the race course. One of the owners, a dear friend Geoff, was offering up what he was calling a "consolation prize" to racers. The "prize" was a shot of tequila followed by a beer. After picking up my ten buck for the prime and checking results, we headed over for adequate consoling.
In looking for the podium, we found the bar.
The team indulging in some true consoling.
The team, thoroughly consoled, and looking great.

It comes but once a year: Red Bowl! The 2010 edition is ready to go, so come up to North Bowl on March 6th, from 2-6PM, and help support the Bicycle Coalition of Greater Philadelphia. It's $10 in advance, $15 at the door, and that gets you free bowling, raffle tickets, drink specials, and the chance to kick it with local cycling luminaries. Get your tickets at the shop or just click here to buy online. It's been a blast the last few years, so get out of the house and support local cycling!

While You Guys Were Building Igloos, Shoveling Snow and Cavorting About in the Sun...

...I was doing hot laps in the cold woods.

from character building to igloo building.

When life gives you lemons you make lemonade right? Well, what do you do when life dumps a cubic shit-ton of snow in your back yard? you make an igloo, naturally.

Cross Training

While part of the crew is down soaking up the sun and doing some early season racing, the rest of us are back in Philly braving the weather and riding when we can. Last night and into today we had a bit of a snowstorm and we were provided the opportunity to do a little off the bike training. My street had about 2 feet the whole way with a few drifts up to about five feet.As you can see I shovel about as straight as I ride a bike.

I'll close this post by saying building character is bullshit, my back hurts and I have a snowball in the freezer for each of the four Florida assholes when they get home.

Preview to the Remix

The rain is coming down pretty hard now. Dan just worked some magic on a VCR that was gathering dust under the TV, and we're settling down for a hard earned nap with the 1985 classic American Flyers playing in the background.

Today was a full length dress rehearsal for tomorrow's TTT. It's been a very educational exercise in the mechanics and importance of aerodynamics, and we've had a lot of help in the form of our newest training tool:

After switching to iBike from some other power-measuring tools pretty early on in their development, Lee came through in a big way this year and brokered a great team deal. Our whole TT squad (and most of the rest of the team) are using the iAero. For those still unfamiliar with the system, it uses a pressure sensor on the leading edge of the computer, combined with speed and angle measurements to calculate a very accurate power output. Turns out that there is a bigger difference than I ever realized between perceived effort and actual wattage.

In a road race with a field of 40 riders, drafting is a relatively uncomplicated situation. It's like being asked to chase a big rig down the highway. In a single-file line of four riders, though, it's more like chasing a Scion xA egg car. Factor in a gusting crosswind, and realtime wind readings make it a heck of a lot easier to track down what little draft there is to be had.

Progress was made, and the ride data backs it up. Today's transitions were much smoother than yesterdays, even in windier conditions. Practice is paying off, and we're all relatively calm and confident heading into the real thing. Wish us luck tomorrow. We want to represent the team well.

Goobernatorial Candidacy

Astute readers may notice the absence of one Boy Langlois from today's escapades. A happy coincidence gave him the opportunity to spend some time with his father, leaving the rest of us to fend for ourselves.

When the former Mayor of Gainesville aspires to a higher office, he has to hit the campaign trail. Hard. And while our evening activities have centered around the idea that there's no such thing as bad publicity, we decided to devote a day to building positive public image.

Today was the first attempt at a paceline with aero bars, and all told it went quite well. At least, nobody got hurt and we all looked like goobers. Sounds like a success to me. Our 30 mile ride this afternoon included a 14 mile mock TTT, and a lazy return home with several high-profile campaign stops on the way.

We watched as Brendan:

Mingled with his constituents,

Engaged in acts of public service,

and supported local conservation efforts.

After we got home, he rewarded his campaign managers with his first post-vegan attempt at cooking eggs.

They were great. Gerald was quite pleased. He expressed himself through interpretive dance, and set back the effort to restore our image by a few days.