Just a Little Video

This is just a short little video about what I've been doing for school lately...I spent fifteen hours editing down to it's current awesomeness...

Black Holes of Country

I just read my last post...and dude that was one depressing post. Life is looking a little brighter right now...except for this black hole of a nine to twelve page paper that is gonna swallow up this next week. Otherwise though, life is rock'n. I've gotta ticket out of here in two weeks, so I can spend two weeks at home for this thing called Christmas. I'm starting to get a craving for redneckness...it's ironic that I feel so far from my farmboy roots in the middle of Alberta. I started going on another country music binge last night...it normally happens to me a couple times a year...but this one is intense. I don't have much to say or any cool stories right now, so listen to some awesome music:

Life lately. I left off with that eventful day, which involved spraining my ankle. Well guess what, life got worse. My ankle seemed to be healing up for about a week...so I went for a low effort hour and a half bike ride...my ankle started feeling worse the next day...and it kept getting worse. So I went to the hospital where they took some x-rays and then said, "Suck it up loser, you've just got a sprain that should be fully healed within a month." So I waited a month...and guess what, it hurt a lot worse...like it hurt all day everyday and sleeping was a challenge. So I went to the hospital again. Hospital guy says, "you've got internal swelling...it should heal up all by itself...rub this stuff on it for the pain." Guess what hospital guy, I don't want to freak'n stuff to rub on it...I WANT PAIN MEDS...LIKE KNOCKS A HORSE OUT PAIN MEDS...LIKE I'M SO CRAZY LOOPY I CAN FLY TO AUSTRALIA AND PET PANDA BEARS HIGH! Yup, anyways it still hurt and got worse if such a thing is possible.

Pro cripple time. I went on crutches for a week I have to go up and down ten flights of stairs every day at a bare minimum, and if I have a social life it turns in to 12-15 flights...yeah, I counted. Trust me, crutches are hard work. Yeah, after a week on them I tried walking again...and it started to hurt again...but then my Discover Team prayed for my ankle...and guess what...it's been slowly healing up since then :D So this weekend I'm gonna try riding my bike for the first time in a month and a half...and it's about five degrees Fahrenheit out...yup, if you see an bike racer shaped block of ice out there it would be me.

Anyways, school work is trying to drown me right now, cause I didn't have much time to do that with my limping and all. On the upside the weather is a beautiful snow storm and I'm learning to dance...cause I'm taking a girl to dance in like two weeks...and I can't dance...except I practiced the waltz for like an hour and a half tonight...but I still can't really dance. Anyways I'm really into Christmas music right now so enjoy these songs...

...or be a loser and don't listen to them...

...and this one isn't Christmas...but it's great anyways...

The Suckiest Awesome Day...

Today has gotten the award for being the "Suckiest Awesome Day of My Life Ever." Coming into the day I knew it would be crazy, there was only about half an hour of unscheduled time to start with, I was getting over a cold, and I was super tired. I got up at eight like I usually do, went to the dining hall and ate breakfast, went to the library to study for that half hour of unscheduled time. Then I got to do Service Learning during chapel time (in other words clean up our floor of the dorm). At eleven o'clock I had worship team practice...something about practicing for the first time a week before our first service and this being the day of the service meant that would be intense...it was intense. Then it was time for a quick lunch, so I could run over to the fine arts building and practice my singing since I have a lesson tomorrow...it started snowing sometime during the last few events...anyways, after voice practice it was time for my class. It's my favorite class of the week, but today I was falling asleep, zoning out, and generally have a rough time of it. After that class was a Discover specific class on "Churban" AKA Church and Urban ministry...it was great, but it ran for two and a half hours, including half of dinner time. I ran to the dining hall and gobbled down some food, so then I could run to my room and change into appropriate clothes for throwing a piece of plastic around. Namely indoor, Ultimate frisbee intramurals...the most technical awesome Ultimate I have ever played...oh yeah, I forgot to mention I had a headache since worship team practice...and then my back started hurting with like a sharp pain during the Discover class...anyways, incredibly fun and technical Ultimate game. We were almost to half time and up by a couple points when I landed wrong and screwed up my ankle...as in lying on my back for a couple minutes not sure if I had broken it...actually I just twisted it or something, but suffice to say it hurt a lot...it still hurts a lot. Yeah, luckily somebody was able to sub in for me and I sat and cheered on my team from the sidelines...WE WON! Yeah, immediately after that, as in no time to change out of my stinky nasty Ultimate clothes, it was time to practice for worship for two hours before performing. Long story short, I ended up changing into snow dampened clothes five minutes before we went on, I hobbled around the stage and grimaced, but PRAISE THE LORD! I survived and the band didn't sound too bad and everyone worshiped God...so it was great...but yeah, definitely deserving of the "Suckiest Awesome Day of My Life" award.

Pure Canadian Beef

So I got my first grade...and it was a 94%, which in Canadia is actually an A+...I'm really digging this. Just to be clear this was on the first paper for an intro to writing class from one of the easiest grading profs. I've actually been inventing more things to study, so that I don't spend to much time developing my pool shark talents. I've been finding ways to put together definitions in my text book, which has no lists of definitions and then memorizing them. I've also been working on making awkward jokes about dating cute girls that are supposed to up my player cred...no, my player cred is sitting at like negative zero...but my jokes still stand. I've also been working at learning to change flat tires like a euro pro mechanic with a massive mullet...something about these Alberta roads which randomly turn into gravel and even the paved sections are covered in gravel.

My actual classes are Thinking and Writing, Cultural Anthropology, and Christian Life. The first two are 75 minutes four times a week. The other is 75 minutes once a week. I also have a bunch of Discover program specific events going down...and you can't forget chapel for an hour every morning...one morning I actually did forget chapel...then I showed up late and a girl passed out because she wasn't eating enough and I got to be manly and hang onto her in case she fainted again while some nurses took care of her (insert epic hero pose...or even better find one and insert it). I don't really know what else to talk about...actually I'll talk about Tobi. Tobi lives in my room. He has a habit of sitting on the radiator that is slightly disturbing. He also likes to stand on my vintage trunk. He has like fluffy white hair all the way around his head. Tobi is almost always staring at my roommate when my roommates is going to sleep (my roommate stares at a pin-up poster of
Tinker Bell that his sponsor kid drew for him...it's a slightly strange situation when it comes right down to it. The only way I can cope is to stare at my pillow and slobbering all over it. Oh yeah, we were talking about Tobi...Tobi is a pure bred Canadian monkey...and my roommate claims about four times a day that he is 130 lbs of pure Canadian beef. I believe the 130 lbs part of that one...not sure about there being any meat on him though...we'll have to find out. Yeeeaaaahh, moving right along...I declare this blog post over...dead...done...gone...The End...ya catch my drift...well laters folks!

I Have Arrived

At college that is. As of today, I've been at college for a week. Before my arrival however, I had an epic trip...and not the LSD type. We packed the truck and left our house on Saturday, after spending a night in a hotel, we arrived in Glacier National Park on Sunday evening. We spent Monday chilling in camp and swimming in the Lake, cause it was around 95 degrees out. Tuesday was the highlight for me, because I got to ride my bike 51 miles over the Going to the Sun Road. This road climbs around 3,500 ft. in 12 miles, which works out to a 6% grade (which also happens to be the steepest that any highway gets). Then, either Wednesday or Thursday, I don't remember which, we went on a hike on the side of a cliff. I've been discovering that I'm scared of heights...honestly, hiking along a cliff where if you trip you'll fall to your death a couple hundred feet below bothers me. Anyways we did that, and then we packed up Friday morning and drove up to Three Hill, Alberta.

In Idaho...

My dad isn't scared of heights...

Nothing better than a cold coke out of a glass bottle after long ride..

Driving back down what I had ridden up in the morning...

Grass fed steak cooked over a fire...nothing better...

These guys just made it past the 36th? year...honestly it's ancient history so I can't remember the exact number...

And this is what Turner family camping is all about...

After spending Friday night cleaning up and shaving, Saturday morning we showed up on campus to move all my stuff in and do some orientation. Sunday morning my parents and I had a delicious breakfast at A&W (nothing else is open on Sunday morning in Three Hills) and then they abandoned me. Monday was the last day of orientation and classes started on Tuesday. I have been amazed to find that I actually enjoy my college classes, except for their length. Friday I woke up with a cold and barely survived my day of class and studying. Saturday I woke up feeling much worse. I didn't leave the dorm for the entire day, living on oatmeal and water. It really made me really appreciate the friends I've made having folks give me cough drops and kleenex, my roommate fixing me food, the other guys dropping in to see how I was doing, and another friend  chatting with me throughout the day.

Today has been much better. Rather than running a massive fever and having an exploding headache, I've simply felt a kinda normal sick. I went to church with a bunch of my friends and am now spending the rest of the day resting up.

Wiggy

Today I had a fictitious interview with Bradley Wiggins, who is currently winning the Tour de France.

So after winning the Tour de France, what do you plan to do?

I first plan to win the Tour, which some blokes take for granted, but it is really imperitive.

After winning the Tour though?


I plan to sit on my couch and watch the Olympics.

Are you hoping to see one of your teammates win the Olympics?


Well if that certain mate of mine from Manx takes the win I won't complain, but I won't be watching either.

Really?


No offense to my sport, but it's bloody boring when you could be watching beach volley ball. Honestly, hardly anyone watches the Olympics for the sports. It's just an excuse to watch boring athletes run around in spandex.

So what about the Tour audience?


It's France, they'll watch anything if it gives them an excuse to go on holiday and drink a beer. The smartest blokes are in the pubs. Three weeks of drinking for five hours and watching five minutes of racing...and the missus can't complain.

This is more of a celebrity question, but what is your secret?


My secret? Well it's not a secret now that I'm telling you, but honestly I use extra chamois cream. It's like greasing the axle of your lorry. If you spread the cream thick all around, you can reduce friction by 85%. With that saves you could wear a superman cape and still be faster.

Now that that secret has been shared and all the other pros are sure to follow your lead. What will you do when they all start competing with you again?


I think I'll become Dr. Who.

There is already a Dr. Who.


Actually there are already multiple Dr. Who's.

Well, that being the case, why do you expect them to hire you?


I'm British, I look half-starved, have sideburns, and really wish to wed a nerdy young lady.

Well good luck with that...

Just to be clear this interview occurred in a spacious and classy hotel suite located in the more fantastic and disturbing areas of my mind and in no way represent the thoughts, let alone words of Bradley himself.

Mt. Hood Part 2

So I left off after losing almost nine minutes in the first stage. The second stage involved getting up at o'dark thirty to eat and then drive over to the start of the TT. It was quite light...and windy at the start. The wind made it rather cold warming up and those who were wise among us set up their trainers in the shelter of tall vehicles.

I kept thinking about not starting...but not starting a TT is like...well um, wimping out...and that's the worst way to be a quitter. So I warmed up, started, and promptly started thinking about turning around and going back to the car. As in I rode the 300 meters from the start house to where the wind hits you...and promptly desired to quit. There was a 20 mph sustained wind, with gusts up to 45 mph. That made life challenging. But what really convinced me I wanted to quit was my legs. Rather using the great dinner I had eaten and repairing my muscles as I slept, my body decided to focus it's energies on fighting this virus thing. So my legs were flat, kinda like soda that's been left in a hot car for a couple weeks.

Being the good racer I am though, forced myself to put out a good TT effort until I had thoroughly established myself as being the slowest rider on the day. At the point that all the other cat. 4 racers had passed me, I called it a day and let myself to soft pedal...and then my whole right leg started cramping. If I came within 20 bpm of my lactate threshold, the cramps came back. So I had jolly time crawling in the last ten miles. I was the slowest cat. 4, but I did beat the cat. 3 rider who flatted.

I didn't start the crit. Instead I took tons of pictures, yelled, screamed, and otherwise motivated my friends/teammates who were racing, and enjoyed the fact that I was not in any serious sort of pain that racing typically causes.

Here are some pics of the crit...and other things...

I beat this kid in the TT, but he won the cat. 3 crit in a solo move...

And then my teammate won the field sprint for second...

My awesome buddy Anders's awesome quotient went up ten fold when he borrowed my sunglasses...

I have no idea who this chick is...but she won the coolest kit award...

My teammate Jen's smile hides the fact that she is just about dying out there...

I stayed at this guy's house...he's a crazy good mountain biker...and not too bad on the road either...

I traveled to the race with Lauren and her husband Adam (who I've mentioned racing with earlier)

When I got home, I sent an email to the organizer of Capital Stage Race that I was planning to race the next weekend telling him I was pulling out. I did however volunteer a bunch and heckled my teammates, which comped my entry fee.

Now six weeks in I'm still sick and can't ride my bike seriously :(

Cycling as of Now

So to catch up from my last post. I did an awesome training block after Independence valley, where I got my average speed on a twenty minute time trial up three or four miles per hour. (time trial is a timed race, where it's just you out there against the wind...and happens to be my biggest weakness) Then I traveled to my two sisters' graduations. The first was a five day driving trip to Alberta, Canada and back...and the second was five day trip fly'n to South Carolina. That had me off the bike for two weeks...and then when I got home I came down with a cold. But as luck would have it this cold morphed into a virus bug. After two and a half weeks I got some cool bug killer pills (antibiotics) from the doctor...which made me better. Until I ran out of them, then I went back to being half sick. So I told the doctor this and he prescribed me super bug killer pills. These seem to be effective in helping with the symptoms, but I'm still nowhere near one 100%...more like 70%.

So after five weeks off the bike and still at 70% I have this epic stage race thing. Stage races are where they combine your times from all the different stages and so there are a bunch of individual races and an overall race. Today was a 39 mile road race. The course was super hilly and super windy by my standards (this is the Columbia Gorge though, so it's not that unusual). On top of that it rained for about half the race.

Coming into it I had no idea what my legs would do. I might have some good form and doing my normal solid racing. Alas, my form was crap...that's actually a major understatement. The field (other racers) were sketchy and mostly not that strong. On the form I had a month ago I would've been giving them a good lesson on how to race a bike. Instead, with my zombified legs, I got dropped ten miles in just at the crest of a 700 ft. climb :(

However, I found a couple other guys off the back and we worked hard to finish it off. So I'm now sitting 8:54 back from the leaders and 22nd out of 28 racers. I forgot how hard it is to race when you aren't very strong (big surprise, eh).

So tomorrow I have TT (time trial) down the Columbia Gorge at eight in the morning on the old highway. It will be long (18 miles) and hard (headwinds and more big, long climbs). In the afternoon I'll race a 30 minute criterium...and when I'm gonna eat pizza and a milkshake.

The Catholic Gerbil

I decided to explain one of the biggest fears of cyclists today. It's not that we're afraid of Catholic Gerbils...it's that we're terrified of becoming one! What causes this fear of conversion and becoming your pet?

 ...This...the bike trainer...

I know why could such a small contraption of exercise equipment cause sleepless nights and dark and dreary days? Well for starters there is typically no need except when the nights are stormy and the days dreary to use such a machine. But also it relates to pain...trust me, when attached to a bike, which is then attached to your legs this becomes a torture machine....but that should be okay, cause we're cyclists, we're used to pain.

The problem stems from psychology (and no this is not meant as a marketing gimic, although any psychologists who wish to sponsor this post are perfectly welcome to do so (preferably this sponsorship would be in the form of evaluating the mental health of the author)). Yeah, our minds are trained to pamper our ego, egg it on, and generally make us out to be incredible. As I climb a hill on one of my regular training rides, I feel the glory of being the first man to the top of the Himalayas. On the decent, I transform into a man breaking the world speed record...and foolish enough to do it on a twisty mountain road in the Alps instead of some salt flats. In short we're vain, conceited, self-amazed guys in spandex. A perfect example of positive thinking and self-confidence at work.

Unlike shaving our legs, the trainer removes any sense of manhood we have. We discover that we're simply gerbils frantically attempting to spin our pedals as fast as we can.

40mm driver headphones are an absolute necessity

necrosis

There are small attempts we make to hide this fact. First, we listen to Aerosmith...really loud...like right on to of the amp tower about to do a stage dive loud. It somehow convinces us that the burning from our legs is a side effect of being a ROCK STAR! OH YEAH...but my stage dive ended up landing in a pile of week old sweaty chamois :(

In addition there are the fantasy stories we read. We set up our laptop and read and re-read the blogs of all our favorite pro cyclists. Mostly these blogs revolve around the incredible food these guys cook and eat between 23 hour training rides in the Alps...so then it inspires us to go pro and eat some all natural, omega 256 rich donuts. Oops, I only burned fifty calories on the trainer...that didn't work out well.

Notice this is pink-ish berry flavored...not the yellow-ish banana flavor I won a ton of 8(

To make up for that I'll do better on my hydration. I'll drink six bottles of water per hour (warning: this leads to more time spent on "nature breaks" than on the trainer). But guess what, this water is boring...I'll super charge it. I'll put these holy Nuun tablets in my water, no sugar, lots of electrolytes...and they were blessed by a Belguim-ish priest. These provide entertainment because A. they fizz when you put them in your water B. they taste slightly like some fruit and mostly like hard water and C. THEY FIZZ!

And when all else fails, you resort to these...

...my lucky, ugly, freakishly long, almost a winner socks I got in my bag of schwag at my last race!

oh yeah, and you can blog about it...like I'm doing right now.

First Loser...

So like both of the Sequim races, it was Adam Cramer (Big) and I representing in the 4's. At Sequim Adam and I had focused on dialing in the teamwork. We had succeeded in working together an following our plan, but our plan had some flaws, so our results weren't exactly great. This week the team plan was for Adam to be the designated sprinter if we finished together and my job to ride the front and look for a break. I've gotten into the habit of writing a simple plan for my races about a week before. For Independence Valley my plan was 1. Fight my way to the front 2. Stick to the front (the first 10-15 guys) 3. Save my legs (like only work when I needed to) 4. Attack within 1 km of the finish. Incredibly, I actually followed these steps.

I warmed up a few minutes earlier than usual so that I could line up 20 minutes before the start...I'd rather have cold legs than be forced to fight my way through 50 guys during the neutral rollout and the first climb. This worked well as it allowed Adam to um, "talk to his teammate" and then not go to the back of the group. During the neutral, we allowed a few guys to com up around us and pull the group to the first climb. As the road pitched upward, I kicked into work mode and tried to keep with the first ten guys over the top, while Adam practiced some sag climbing to save his legs. As we did the typical sprint over the top, a gap formed between the first 15 guys and the rest of the field. Usually, when I'm descending, I'm the fastest guy, in this group though I actually had to pedal and focus on drafting the wheel in front of me. As we turned onto Lincoln Creek Rd., our group solidified and a number of racers started hammering around 30mph at the front. 

After taking a couple of pulls, things settled down enough that I could take a look around. I saw that our group had established a solid gap. I also saw that we had 3 men each from Audi and Starbucks, along with Herriot and Cycle U having at least two men in the group. At that point I waxed philosophical...more like simply thinking of what the pro's always do in these situations. Seeing that there was one of me and I had no teammates in the break, and I'm not great at working hard in a break all day, I decided to pretend to work enough to keep anyone from getting to mad at me, and mostly sit in. It quickly became apparent that simply sitting in would be a challenge, let alone the occasional pull to calm down the other guys. The second climb was a definite challenge, particularly holding on as we accelerated on the top. I hung tight though and managed to recover a little before we tackled Michigan Hill again.

Meanwhile, Adam was keeping things in line back in the peleton. He went up front and blocked, allowing our gap to be over a minute before the second climb, and grow to around five minutes during the second lap. When the break hit Michigan Hill again, it turned out to be the entrance to the pain cave. We had already dropped a couple riders on the second hill, and I ended up being the last man in line over Michigan. It was one of those times in racing where, you forget about trying to finish, you forget about hanging on the backstretch, you throw out any ideas of the power you need to accelerate over the top, all you do is try to get every ounce of power you can out of your legs in that second. Somehow my legs had the exact amount of power I needed to stay on a wheel over the top. As we begun the descent, I was slightly cross eyed from the climb, and our group went considerably faster than I've ever been down that hill before. There were a couple moments, when I wasn't sure I was gonna stay on the road. Our second time across the backstretch, our group took it a little easier (25 mph-ish). But after all the work earlier, I had a harder time staying on wheel. As we made our way up the last climb, the toll of the previous miles calmed the other guys legs, so I didn't hurt too bad there. On the last stretch to the finish, it became a game of "don't be the leader" and we happily let a Starbucks rider hold a 100 meter gap for around 5 km. As we got within 3 km of the finish, guys started heating things up and jockeying for position. I hopped on the wheel of the larger HSP guy, because he made a good draft and wasn't too skittish, however, just for my faith he started putting his handlebars inside the bars of the guy next to him 8( I backed off and sat on the back for a minute, but next thing I knew I was on his wheel again. As we got inside 1 km HSP guy started making his way up the right side while the whole group accelerated. Around the 200 meter sign he hit the front and accidentally gave me a great lead out. When I saw that I had good momentum and was at the front, I decided to just sprint for it. As it turns out my legs had a lot more of sprint than I expected and I was in the lead. One of the Starbucks riders caught my wheel on my way by and managed to come up around me at the line. I was quite happy with "first loser" though.

(Warning: the following contains TMI) the entire race my stomach wasn't completely settled, one of the reasons I sat on rather than make people happy and take my fair share of pulls, however racing ain't fair. As I came across the line I felt like I was gonna throw up, like one normally feels after a great sprint or time trial...however I did...yeah, I'd heard of it happening to runners, but never cyclists. Anyways, I positive proof I was working hard :/ (end of TMI section)

Adam pulled out a solid finish in the group, and we were pretty satisfied to have pulled off our plan. I definitely wasn't the strongest rider there, however racing is 50% training and 50% smarts...in this case the smarts paid off!

 .

Emo?

Hey hey...yeah, I know, it's been a while. I'm just figuring with the twist and turns and "oh dude, we're gonna diiiieeeee!" plummets my life has been taking lately, and I see continuing into dark, dark tunnel of the future (oh hey, is that light at the end of the tunnel a freight train?) I might hijack this blog and turn it into a more typical "my puppy just died and I'm really sad" blog. Well actually more like the "I ate toothpaste for breakfast and it tasted good, then I did my art homework by throwing eggs at the prof and taking black and white pictures of it, then I talked to my hipster friends under the bridge..." life story blog. So I'll try to stay out of the emo end of things...but I just had to tell you, there are these starlings outside my window in the cold wet snow stuff that's coming down and they look really cold and miserable, almost as cold and miserable as my heart after my iPhone 4 left me for the love of some filthy hipster pickpocket on a longboard.

Um yeah, now that that clarification debacle is cleared up, I'll get down to the knitty gritty story of my life; it starts with this weird apocalypse barely averted bike race thing. I got up at five o'clock...and it was dark. Now you're probably thinking, "dude, that's way to early!" for me it was a case of "hur...graaaa...yaaaaawwwwn.......AHHH, WE'RE LATE!!!" I was supposed to get up at quarter to five...and this is the morning before a bike race...so this is life and death stuff we're talking...well not really, but my nerves can't tell the difference. Anywho, I got up, put on my pajama pants and a sweater, loaded up the car, ate some breakfast and rolled out...on time.

CAFFEINE! After an hour of driving down the road in a sleep hazed fog, there was finally a coffee stand open. And not just any old burnt your coffee to a crisp and gave you a "large for a miniature dwarf" sized cup of sugar flavored liquid ********* (name removed to protect the pristine reputation of Starbucks) place. This was a true Pacific Northwest coffee stand. It was a tiny little shed in the middle of some gas station parking lot, the barista seemed to be an ex-hippy who married a logger, and there sizes were differentiated by ounces, not Italian words for crazy small cup of American burnt coffee. So after an infusion of 20 ounces of a quad mocha, we were rolling down the road again.

This injection of espresso helped to awaken my mind not only to the fact that it was still dark out, but also that there was snow...down to about 300 feet on all the hills. After another two hours of driving and contemplating the risks and advantages of hypothermia, we got to the race start. It was 37 degrees and raining. To clarify, the weather folks would put that at a real feel of about 30 degrees, when you add in the wind chill of riding your bike along at 25 mph, it comes down to around 20 degrees.

This is when the mental rubber hit the road. First you lay ground rules: if my hands become so numb I can't shift or brake...I'm quitting, if I begin to uncontrollably shiver....I'm quitting. Second, you create faith. I'm not talking a well placed and logical faith like you have in a chair or as is explained in Mere Christianity...I'm talking that Disney type faith. "I'm here, I'm strong, I'm hyped, I'm a total freak'n idiot, I'm gonna race, and that weather is gonna be good or I'm gonna go buy a chain gun and go all Arnold Schwarzenegger on the weather gods." So guess what? Disney faith works...or maybe it was the chain gun? Anyways, the weather gods resorted to lightly sprinkling and letting the mercury go up a couple notches.

After warming up on the trainer (going from slightly numb, to almost not cold), confirming that my teammate in the race and I both remembered the same strategy, borrowing a second pair of glove from the aforementioned teammate (lets call him Big, he's got big legs, he makes a big draft...something about being six foot something, he's got a big brain...he's a dentist, and he's got a big grin) to make it harder to drop off for the aforementioned excuse of frozen hands, we lined up to start. Actually, I lined up to start and freaked out for ten minutes because Big didn't show up until about the time the whistle blew to start our race.

The strategy that we both happened to remember simultaneously, involved me going to the front with Big on my wheel and pulling the pack around the last corner and 1 km or so until we got to the 1 km to the finish sign. Then Big would come hauling around my dying form and sprint to the win. Thus, for the first 40 or so miles of the 48 miles of the race there was nothing for us to do. In this tough spot, we decided to chill on the back and swerve around the crashes.

Our chilling was good; with a little work, it was possible to keep the hands from turning into ice and the blocks of ice more commonly found to be feet weren't too distracting. Then some guys up front started working hard as we went past the start/finish line the first time (this was a four lap race), we figured it was just some guys showing off for the cameras, until we came around a sweeping corner and noticed some gaps in the group...time to move up. Without too much work I got to the middle of the group and things congealed into a more solid pack again (my teammate had the bad luck of trying to take off his jacket while this was going down and had to work a little harder to get past the guys who were getting shelled off the back). With the pack congealed, we moved back out of the madhouse known as the middle of the peleton and resumed chilling on the back.

Another lap colder and another 12 miles down, starting lap three guys showed off for the cameras again...except these guys were rather serious...about ten guys out of our peleton of fifty got up the road...and they happened to be reasonably strong guys. The downside of being at the back of the pack is that it takes some time to figure out how stupid the guys in front of you are. After observing the latest developments, I consulted with Big and determined it was time to get to work. I moved up to the front and saw that the gap was around 500 meters, a little too big for a solo effort. I decided to take off hard and either get Big up within 150 meters and let him close it while I fell back, or if the chase group stuck on our wheels I'd take a solid pull and then try to work with the other guys to bring everyone back together. I took off with Big barely sticking to my wheel (afterwards he mentioned that I just about lost him there) and hauled along at a crazy hard tempo...then the chase group started to follow us, so I let off the gas a little to integrate back in and get a serious chase going...however as soon as they caught Big and me, they decided they were done.

It was our misfortune to be stuck in a group of slightly annoying smart guys, and incredibly frustrating idiots. About half the chase group had teammates in the break, and therefore didn't want to help out. However, they were smart enough to move up to the front and then quit pedaling in order to make it impossible for anyone to chase. Then of the other half, a quarter were just fine sitting in the group and losing. The other quarter was willing to work. However, through lack of coordination and lack of man power, we didn't get a paceline rolling at the front. I spent the entire third lap attempting to unify and motivate the chase, involving spending a lot of time up in the wind. After a lap and some massive pulls, the gap between the break and our lethargic chase had grown to over a minute.

It was time for another team meeting. Our conclusion was: A. this chase group is apathetic B. catching the break is hopeless C. therefore, we might as well chill on the back and resort to our sprint plan. About halfway through this lap I decide it's critical to find my teammate. I drift around in the pack a bit until we happen to end up next to each other and then I ask my oh so important question; "is this the last lap?" In all the working, recovering and then working my legs to a pulp again, I had inadvertently fried my mind. I had been operating on the assumption that this was the last lap, however I had this little demon of doubt growing in my mind. Thankfully, my teammate was able to squelch that demon and confirm that I hadn't gone crazy quite yet.

So as the last lap progressed Big and I made our way up to the sharp end of the group. As we approached the final corner I did what I had to do to hold our position (a little wind didn't hurt anybody did it?) and looked for my opportunity. With about 3 km to go I jumped and started to pull out at the front...however, my teammate didn't agree and I found myself hanging off the front on my lonesome. I quickly chilled out and dropped back. I then waited until about 2 km to the finish and 200 meters from the last corner to jump out again...this time Big concurred with my decision and sucked my wheel as I motored along at a solid pace. My legs kicked their last as I flailed my way to the 1 km to go sign. According to plan, Big jumped around me and went flying down the road toward the finish with the pack strung out behind...however around the 200 meter sign everyone else started to sprint around him. I crawled my way to the finish, proud of my hard work...but a little bit angry that our plan had failed.

After that is was time to put on some tights (compression tights specifically designed to help your muscles recover faster I swear), eat a PB, W, and J and drive home. According to the reports of some of my teammates with later races, the weather gods noted my departure and resumed the program of freezing rain and other forms of punishment for their lack of faith.