There was no rain in the forecast today, so I got back to commuting. I slept rather oddly, waking up at 5a ready to go only to go back to sleep and wake up late at 6:40 feeling really tired. But whatever, I did my best to get good sleep. The Hurricanes kept me up a bit late, but not too bad. The NHL desperately needs to get back on ESPN. Although last night's game was on NBC the rest of the playoffs have been on OLN and ratings confirm that almost no one is watching.

But I digress. The commute was lovely. The weather was perfect, with just the usual morning cool but not enough to make it uncomfortable. I was spinning along nicely a little faster than standard recovery pace when I passed the Vienna Depot. Just as I passed that, an Evo rider blew by me. I don't usually let that kind of thing happen, so I did what any self-respecting racer/commuter would do and flipped it over to the big ring and chased. I rode right in his draft through the entire Powerhouse stretch. We were turning 30 mph for the duration. After we crossed the road there, I took the lead up the false flat over the hump and on the remaining false flat. After that, it was his turn off, so he left me on my own. "Nice job," he said. "Thanks for the pull," said I. Good times. It's been a while since I picked up a guy rocking through there in the morning. The rest of the ride was pretty standard.

Will joined me on the way home. We rode our usual struggling to talk kind of pace riding side-by-side. It felt good and we chatted mostly about racing strategy and what kinds of racers we both are. I think Will would be more in the mold of a Boonen--a punishing rider who can climb the hills he needs to. I'm not sure what that makes me. So I'll take suggestions. Right now I just want results. After Will turned around in Vienna, my legs started to feel the pace a bit and I think I needed some food and drink. But I managed to get home ok and in time to clean up a bit for the Bible Study crew.

A dissappointment of the night was having my upgrade to Cat. 3 denied. I have 12 points plus 9 more from when I was a Cat. 5 racer. I was worried they wouldn't count those and I was right. I think it's stupid, but it's understandable. But less understandable since I was a 5 and only racing those races for experience. I'm pissed, but I guess I'll have to get out there and race hard in time for Toona. And I should say that I only care about the upgrade this fast because I want to race the 75 mile RR at Toona and not the 20 mile RR that the Cat. 4's are relegated to do. Otherwise, I'll keeping racing 3/4 fields, so I don't care.

As for Saturday, things are looking really great. Originally, John Larson, myself, and Steve Robinson were signed up for Pieffer Hill, but after an emeil to the listserve, a bunch more signed up. Brad Evans, Owen Hassig, and Tomas Quijano all signed on and as usual George Milinkovic is a VERY tentative. But that's a solid solid crew--the best I've raced with since Poolesville. I'm hungry for results, so hopefully we can work together and get a little something for everyone. This may be do or die this weekend with regards to Toona. I'll make the decision whether or not to try my hand at a crit in Richmond depending on the result Saturday.

Hills in the morning. And boy is this Sox game good . . . Santana vs. Schilling, then Nathan vs. Papelbon then . . . T12 now, I'm not sure I'll be up till the end. Crap. Grand Slam off of Tavarez. It was a great duel anyways.

I've posted some shots summarizing last Saturday's Quicksilver Criterium.

The Start. 100 riders in all. I'm a couple rows back on the right of the picture, but not visible.

Rockville Harley and NCVC Take 1. Not a bad gap, but it was gone in a hurry. I was chilling in the back at this point.

One of my horrible inside lines. I lost so much speed doing this and kept having to work to get back the spots I'd lose each time.

My ill-fated attack. I only lasted a lap solo. Absolutely horrible.

RHD and NCVC Take 2, with exactly the same result, despite switching out the NCVC rider.

The winning NCVC train . . . taking Mr. Allison to victory. They did a better job than I'd initially thought and the proof is in the results. Definitely the best organization I've seen in a Cat. 4 race. I was well placed, but couldn't deliver.

As I said . . . results:

I woke up this morning determined to commute, but it was pouring outside so I had to opt for the car. I was able to get right on the bike when I got home, however, and I made up for the loss of ride time. I rode down to Hains Point and practiced throwing in attacks every now and then. Basically I spun a solid but easy pace until I felt like moving and then I did. I rode mostly alone with a few folks riding occaisonally giving me a draft.

After riding for about 1:10 at Hains, I left and decided to explore DC just a bit. I rode up to Capitol Hill and made my rounds at the Supreme Court and Library of Congress before riding down Constitution and then around a few streets before making my way to M street and finishing up through Georgetown and as usual across Key Bridge to home. The ride ended up being 35 miles. A great non-commute effort. It's nice to get that long of a ride in during the week.

After yesterday's poor result in Sterling, I was in need of a soul-searcher. So after dropping Jess of at the airport, I hit the roads of Montgomery County mostly looking for the hills to inflict their pain on me. I rode the Saturday Ride route--which is very similar to the back half of the Coppi Sunday ride done backwards. I went out along MacArthur all the way to Old Anglers where I tackled the hill there leading up to Great Falls. I rode down into the park and back out to really get the heart pumping. From there I continued the usual route onto Falls Road and S. Glen Road. But then I took Glenn Mill all the way to its end at Darnestown Road. I turned around there and followed my way back, with another trip down into the park and out. I tried to focus on topping the hills well--something I always thought about running, but has just now occurred to me on the bike.

I was somewhat frustrated with my fitness early in the ride, but I rode very well after the second trip into the park and put in a good sprint exiting the park each time. At least I know that hill better if I ever show up for a Sunday ride with the team again. Most of my frustration had to do with my feel on the bike. I had quite a bit of lower back pain yesterday--the worst since I lowered my handlebars. I'm not sure if stretching can alleviate that problem, or if I'll have to raise them slightly. But yesterday and also the last race in PA, I had problems. My left cleat also worked itself loose again yesterday and it drove me crazy hearing them slip in the pedal while climbing hills. My rear wheel was also rubbing the brake when I pedaled with force probably because the spokes are too loose. I'll have to check that out.

I finished up the ride by having a little fun. I hung a left off of MacArthur onto Chain Bridge Road NW. This was a massive and surprisingly long hill. I couldn't believe its size as I felt like the climb would never end. It gave me the feel of climbing real mountains. From there I hit Nebraska to Mass. Ave. and rode past the embassies and finally on to M Street to take me through Georgetown and over the Key Bridge to home. The final mileage was somewhere around 55 miles. I'd wanted to go for more like 75, but my frustration with my feel on the bike kept me from heading down to Hains for a few more add on miles. All in all, a good day though. I got in a long ride with good hills and the pace was respectable for a solo effort. I'm looking forward to commuting more this week and also the workout on Wednesday. I'll be back to racing in PA next Saturday at the Pieffer Hill Road Race.

Raceday! This was the Quicksilver Crit out in Sterling, VA. It's close to work and it's the same course I raced back during the training series in the winter. Frankly speaking, this is probably the most boring course I've ever raced. The loop is a 'D' shape, so there's two turns with only a very slight decline and incline on the curved section of the 'D'. It is not in any way selective. I knew that going in, but with the field being strictly a Cat. 4 field, my hopes were high for doing well. I should have known better.

The drive to the race is nearly identical to my drive to work--just one exit more on the Toll Road. For all the training races, I rode out to the racecourse and rode home, but today I figured I could drive and save some strength. I warmed up on the course with Will and a few Coppis before getting to the start line just a bit late and being in the third row. We crammed George in on my right side and there were many rows behind us. The field was listed at one hundred riders. Pretty amazing.

That's where I had a fun experience. As we were standing there waiting, an Evo guy and a Harley guy were chatting and one of them asked, where's John Brewer. Ken Woodrow and myself were standing just behind them, so I had to chuckle. Before I could say anything the other one said, "He's over there," gesturing towards another group of Coppis where Tomas and Brad were starting. I played with them a bit, asking "Who wants to know," before finally letting them in on the truth. We all had a good laugh after that. It's nice to know people are watching out for me in the races. I've really only had one good result in the D20, but nevertheless, I've got a target on my back. I love that respect. I'll have to earn that the hard way in the Cat. 3 fields.

From my experience relentlessly attacking at Carl Dolan, my plan today was to be as passive as possible as long as possible. We had sixteen laps to ride for a total of only twenty miles, so I settled in somewhere in the back of the pack once the race got started. At no point was the pace taxing. We had a few Coppis take turns on the front trying to get keep the pace strong, but even so, it wasn't hard to ride 26 mph on that course with one hundred riders all around to shield you from the wind. I was a bit nervous riding in the midst of so many guys--especially since we're all Cat. 4's. But things went fairly well and there were no crashes--only a few close calls.

I took note of several things during the time I spent passively riding around in the pack watching the laps tick down. Number one is that my pack skills are pretty bad in a race like this. I think they've improved in the road races I've been doing, but riding around with this many guys makes me nervous. A flat tire from a guy in front of me and Peter Nicoll getting several spokes of his Carbon Zipps sheared off don't help soothe those feelings. I did ride in the gutter a bit to move up so I was comfortable there, but it was tough to move from inside to outside. And being on the outside is point number two. I was picking a horrible line by riding on the inside through the turns. At one point, I noticed that I passed Will and a couple of riders on my left only to have them twenty feet in front of me after the turn. I was having to slow too much by going inside and it was definitely not the best course of action. I tried to work the outside some more, but all too often I was on the inside and riding ineffectively.

I certainly cannot blame my futility in this race on lack of aid. Ken Woodrow took me to the front early in the race and put me right where I wanted to be. Poor pack skills had me slink back behind him in a few laps, however. I kept hoping someone would make a break go and at least stick for a few laps, but it never quite materialized. Steve Fife tried his hand with an NCVC rider not once, but twice--only to be brought back with ease by the peloton. The stiff headwind after turn one had a lot to do with that.

At one point Steve and RHD rider Jose Escobar had a small gap and I was in a position to join it. It was right before the "climb" and I jumped perfectly onto their back. Unfortunately for some reason they weren't going nearly hard enough for a break and the pack was just about to catch us before we'd even got started. So I attacked hard again and had a small gap going up the hill to the start/finish line. Unfortunately for me, no one went with me and I was riding solo. Having soloed to a win in a Cat. 5 training race here, this wasn't unfamiliar ground, but I knew it would be much harder. I put in a good effort on the straightaway and then tried to hold a decent pace into the wind. But as soon as I got out of the wind, the pack was right on top of me. By the time we climbed up the hill, an Artemis rider took his turn doing what I'd just done. I thought about going with him, but it didn't seem like he would fare any better than I--so I sat tight and rested. My legs were on fire, but we had 7 laps to go and I wasn't too worried about it. The only thing I was upset about then was the lack of any counterattack from any of my teammates. They should have been in perfect position to go with the Artemis rider and if nothing else, keep the pace nice and high.

After my ill fated go at the front, I focused my efforts on resting up for the inevitable bunch sprint. Nothing of note happened in those remaining laps until the final two, when Will rode up beside me and said he do lead-out for me. He took me right up to near the front and with one lap to go I was in perfect position. Three NCVC riders were leading the pack and doing a fine job at it. They were perfectly set up. An Evo rider and myself jumped on to the back of their train and I couldn't have been better placed at that point. When we hit the headwind, the NCVC riders slowed considerably and the small gap they'd formed was gone. That was bad for me. But I moved around them slightly and put in a hard pull going up the hill because Tomas was right behind me and yelling for me to Go! I wasn't sure if he was wanting me to lead out or just cheering me on, but I assumed by ramping the pace there it would help him too. But at the top of the hill, 200 meters before the finish, I again took the terrible line on the inside and got swarmed in typical Cat. 4 fashion. At 100 meters, I was probably in 15th place at least, so I sat up and watched lots of folks sprint.

This race was very frustrating--much the same way that Carl Dolan was. But the course here is just like that except that the hill is puny to say the least. I am not a sprinter and never will be, but I was positioned perfectly for this one and couldn't deliver even at top ten finish. Very disappointing. The bottom line is that I couldn't deliver and my poor pack skills and choice of lines cost me. My excuse is mainly that this crit--with only two turns is far too short at 20 miles to really tire anyone out. Without getting folks tired, I feel as though I have absolutely no chance in a bunch sprint. Whether that's true or not, I'm not sure, but today I crapped out. Skubis finished somewhere in the back of the Top 10 for the only significant Coppi placing in this race. We did good work on the front making pace throughout the race but had absolutely no firepower to do anything with that pace. We don't have a Cat. 4 sprinter and so my initial idea of skipping this race was probably a good one. But I guess it was a good workout and I was home by noon, so I can't argue with that. That gave me plenty of time to take a four hour nap this afternoon and catch up on my sleep.

My legs were feeling a little bit sore from my return to riding with yesterday's up tempo effort. So what did I do about that? Go to the front and keep the pace of the Muffin ride up from it's usual relaxed pace. I rode on the front chatting with Chris Larsen (former Cat 1 of Snow Valley) so we weren't really going all that hard. Near the end of the ride, Chris suggested I put in a 3-4 minute hard effort to open up the legs for tomorrow. I was all for going fast, so I gave it a try once we were in the clear along the river. From there I waited at the Key Bridge and then we went hard up the incline back to the Java Shack. Bernard was tailing me as I spun a steady 20 mph. I bolted as soon as the ride was done and I continue to be in need of sleep. I've slept very well the past two nights, so I think I'm making progress. But I think I'll need to catchup somwhere this weekend with an afternoon nap. Sunday's always a winner.

After missing the past two days, I was determined to get some decent mileage in today. So I came home a bit early from work and got suited up and on the road as quickly as I could. I rode over to what will be my new place to drop off the security deposit and pick up a copy of the lease. From there, I rode what will be my roomate's commute up to Bethesda. It's a very nice ride, taking about 45 minutes to go on the Custis Trail and to the end of the paved section of the Capital Crescent Trail.

The ride out on the CC trail is false-flat to slight incline the whole way so you can really work up a sweat trying to hold the pace you might ride with ease on flat ground. I kept things steady but not really a hard effort. I was blowing by commuters though. Not having a backpack sure makes for more enjoyable riding. Once I reached the spot where I believe David will be commuting to, I kept going on the trail and hit the unpaved section hard. I had a blast, but only rode on it for about a mile. Good memories of Poolesville, but this section is much smoother than that course.

On the unpaved section I passed a RHD rider and an NCVC rider. So I turned around and followed them back towards DC. I got the pace cranking with the NCVC rider and once we were out of the heavily trafficed areas of the trail, we were flying. The RHD rider chose not to participate, so we were on our own for the rest of the ride back to Georgetown. Eventually, the NCVC rider dropped off or turned and so I chilled out a little bit to save my legs some. I had plans of going down to Hains after that, but it was 6:30, so I opted to go home for supper. I did ride along the Potomac for a bit on the Mt. Vernon trail before heading home on the usual trail outside Arlington Cemetery. For kicks, I rode a lap around the block of my apartment, taking one of the solid hills at full speed. Then, I called it a day. I got around 30 miles in, so that's not a bad day at all.

The Father of Providence Day School Cross-Country died Monday. He was 64. He was the first contact I had with the program and he stoked the fire that was my interest in running. Nothing I can say about him here will do justice. So read the blog set up in his memory.

I woke up today with plans of commuting in to work. I haven't commuted back-to-back days in quite a while and my badge of commuting honor will soon be taken away if I don't start riding more. But the reason I've been lax about riding in is that I am too often waking up feeling like mud. I'm not sleeping more than 7 hours usually. That's probably enough for most adults, but I don't think it is for me. I wake up feeling exhausted and worn-out. I don't think my last few hours of sleep are ever very good. Instead, I'm tossing and turning about wondering when it's time to get up. Without sleeping in on the weekends becuase of racing and riding, I rarely ever seem to catch up. So, inevitably, today, I tried to lay around a bit before finally giving up and driving in. I should say that my legs feel fine. They're a bit tired from the weekend, but they don't feel all that bad. I wish I would have commuted today--or at least brought my bike and rode with the guys at lunch. But I didn't.

Jim: Having Driven John Away...

Having driven John away from his own blog... my work is done here.

When my posts started exceeding race reports, and overwhelming John's posts, I decided it was time to get my own humble blog abode. It's over here.

John, I love you man, it was great being here, sorry about what happened to your cat. It was a total tragedy, and I apologize, but the thing never should have been on my comfy chair. Nine lives, my butt.

But seriously, thanks for letting me blog here temporarily until I got my own rudimentary space set up. I'll fix up a permalink to your joint here as soon as I figure out what HTML stands for. I hope I haven't worn out my welcome, and when I develop a readership rivaling yours, you will be welcome to blog over at my humble abode and bring some seriousness to my mostly irrelevant, semi-libelous drivel.

So long, and thanks for all the fish.

I finally was up to commuting on a Monday. I can't remember the last time I did that. Of course, commuting on a Monday means that I have to carry the kitchen sink on my back. I got all my clothes and my lunch and my shoes and headed out the door not too long after 6:30. After yesterday's hammer-fest and Saturday's race, I was determined to actually take a rest day. I flicked the front derailleur to the left and left the chain sitting in the small ring. My pace never exceeded 20 mph and rarely exceeded 18 mph. I was chillin' and the lack of the usual headwind made this quite enjoyable. I took my time and relaxed. I hopped onto the back of another commuter at one point and rode for a few miles at a good clip, but drafting, my HR was still in the 130's.

Coming home, I didn't ride quite as slow, but I certainly didn't ride my usual pace. There were almost no serious riders headed in my direction, so I wasn't tempted to change from my plan. I did have a few stragglers pass me at lights, but it was fun to use them as bait--especially going up the hill at 66. That's the only significant effort that I put in today. From there it was back to easy riding. I took the short piece of the Custis Trail to connect up with Fairfax and then Wilson. I'm liking that commute path since it avoids some nasty parts of Wilson. But I can't wait till I move in to my new place on July 1st. I'll save fifteen minutes and avoid traffic entirely. Should be great.

Since Jess is in Florida getting her dress fitted, I didn't feel so horrible about skipping church this once for the Sunday team ride. Missing the team ride on Sunday is one of my biggest regrets. It's by far the most attended ride and also by far the most mileage. It is great training and in the absence of a race, makes for a terrific substitute. I hate that I miss it as it limits my interaction with a lot of the guys on the team. I get out for the HON on Wednesday and for the Muffin on Friday, but other than that I get nothing. Sunday is the big day, but for leaving at 8:30 and finishing up around noon, church keeps me from it.

But not today! And boy was I glad I didn't miss this one. We thought we might be joined by a few of the Toyota-United pro riders, but a few crashes at the CSC Invitational on Saturday meant the team had to change plans. It wasn't all a loss because it ensure that we had the largest team ride of the year. I'm not sure exactly how many folks showed up. But I feel like nearly everyone I know on the team and plenty that I don't were there. We rolled out of the Java Shack after a few warnings from the elders about proper group riding.

Since I've only done the Sunday-specific route once--a while back, I had to follow a few leads on the way out of town. I've certainly ridden on the Montgomery County roads plenty, but not this exact route. We headed in to Georgetown, then the Whitehurst Freeway, then into Rock Creek Park, where we stopped to pick up even more riders. Dodging walkers and joggers in the park was quite the sight with so many of us. We had an enormous peloton of all Coppi blue. It was very impressive and perhaps a little bit intimidating.

From there, the ride picked up the pace considerably. There are various sprint points along the way and I of course know none of them. So I would mostly follow the various attacks with some of my own and basically just mess around. I should also say that my legs were feeling like dirt from the time we started this ride. They just never felt good. So my attacks were pretty lame most of the time, but I had fun keeping the pace up pretty high.

The only sprint point I knew for sure was the race down into Great Falls Park and back out. I led for about a mile before the park and all the way down. I was very pleased with my descending skills. They've come a long way since I first started riding. I led the climb out nearly the entire way. John Larson was right on my tail as was a group of probably ten guys. I didn't have my best climbing skills today, but I managed ok. John went around me near the end but I covered without a lot of trouble. Then Bernard sealed the deal and finished us both of with a strong finish. I'll know not to lead that one out next time. Even Owen was climbing with me today, so I couldn't have been on top form ;-).

Losing the race to the top had my riding a bit chippy from then on, so when we exited the park, I just kept going and evenutally Tomas, Larson, Skubis, and Damien joined me. Tomas pulled through and we were soon riding a very strong paceline at 30 mph. We stayed in that line as we reached Clara Barton and the pace was hovering near 30 the entire time. My legs were dying and I was happy when it seemed like the pace was going to drop a bit. But no sooner did that happen than Don Saroff rolls up unexpectedly on his Track TT bike. Man can he fly on that. So we were all following him and rolling along at 30 mph again. At this point, I was starting to come unglued. I ate half a PowerBar while in the back of the line in hopes of getting some more strength, but I just couldn't find any extra energy. I was tapped out. We finally made it back to Georgetown and Larson threw down a serious attack that I had to watch. It was terrific and he left us all behind.

I caught up to him once he slowed to cross the Key Bridge and head up out of Rosslyn. We rode to the Java Shack together with the rest of the crew slowly filing in minutes behind. I ordered a large Hot Chocolate and grabbed a bagel, lemon poppy seed muffin, and a bag of BBQ chips. Basically I grabbed whatever looked apetizing at the moment. I was seriously fatigued and desperate for food. It was a great ride, but maybe next time I'll have better legs. I don't think this one should have killed me the way it did. But of course without the 30 mph paceline at the end, I would have been just fine.

Raceday! Ken picked me up and we drove North to Lancaster county for yet another PA road race. This time the venue was Manheim, PA and after a few wrong turns and playing with his navigation system, we made it. We parked at the end of an Amish farmer's driveway, unloaded our bikes and rode up to the registration tent. The sky was overcast and the whole day felt grey. But we were registered soon enough and found ourselves with over an hour until the start.

Together, we rode a lap of the 7.5 mile course. The seemingly pre-storm weather also had plenty of wind, which I've come to expect in Lancaster county. The course was basically downhill for the first half, then slowly working its way uphill over rollers for the second half. The promoter spoke of "two modestly difficult hills" and I guess that was about right. The only significant hill was at about halfway and was a steep, but short climb. It was going right into a headwind, and the false flat afterwards made things tough, but not killer. Other than that, this course was textbook Lancaster: rolling farmlands with little tree cover.

The finish, for once, wasn't on a hill. It actually was a very fast looking finish turning onto the finishing straight just after 1km to go and then running slightly downhill and leveling off at the line. Snitger's last weekend taught me I can sprint decently so long as I don't have to do it on a hill. So I was encouraged by what I saw on the recon ride. John Larson joined us not long after we finished the first lap and we had time to ride another one with the three of us together.

Having three riders in the race put us as really the only other team presence with the exception of Iron Hill who I think had about four. I knew going in to the race that the man to watch would be Jeff Schalk, a mountain bike pro riding for the East Regional Trek-VW squad. I'd seen him at Quicksilver, Tradezone, and Strasburg--each time in a different race thatn my own. And each time he'd been incredibly aggressive, instigating breaks and doing long pulls. He has the engine to ride the way I wish I could ride.

We started off 2:30 behind the 1/2/3 group who was scheduled to ride 7 laps to our 5. The pace early on wasn't anything special. It was generally pretty relaxed with Schalk and a late 1/2/3 rider who'd just decided to ride in our race doing turns on the front. I stayed safely tucked in for the duration of the first lap. Ken, however didn't far quite as well. Going into the turn approaching the hill, he grabbed his brake a little too much and hit some gravel. He immediately hit the deck and luckily didn't take anyone with him. I contemplated waiting for him to pace him back on, but I wasn't sure whether or not he'd continue. He did and eventually made it back to the tail end of a chasing group.

Coming up to the start/finish line, someone looked up and asked, "Is that the 1/2/3 race?" I thought he was nuts but as soon as I looked up, I noticed he was right. Somehow they were riding slower than we were and we'd caught them! By the time we reached the significant hill, we were fully mixed together and I was getting pretty excited about that. I'd joked on the line about how cool it would be if they'd combined our fields in to one race. It wouldn't help my bid for upgrade points, but it surely would be fun. And then, here we were. At least the dude who'd showed up late for the 1/2/3 race was happy. He could race with them now!

We rode intermixed until probably two miles before the end of the second lap. At that point, the group started to divide a bit and a few 1/2/3 riders were making a move up the road. Being the cunning rider that I am ;-) I decided to try and sneak in with that group and move away from the 3/4 field unnoticed. If I could get in with them I'd win the race easily and be able to draft my way to the finish. So in the last 1km of the lap, I attacked on the left side of the group (our numbers were on the left as well, so my identity was shielded) and made my way up to the front group. No sooner had I put in that long attack than I noticed all the officials standing in the road waving at us to stop! Stop? Were they crazy? Asking us to stop then seemed madness as we were in somewhat of a break. But that's what they wanted and we were forced to comply.

We soon learned that they would restart the fields separately because they had become mixed. They again started the 1/2/3 race 2:30 in front of us (5 laps to go for them and 3 for us). This time, however, they started our race in two groups, 1:30 apart to preserve the gap that had formed in our field. That was fine by me as our group now had only 25 or so riders left. For the next two laps, Jeff Schalk did what seemed like suicide. He literally pulled the entire field for 15 miles! He kept the pace respectable and I was getting very tired just drafting off of him. I was in third place most of the time right behind he and a Swashbuckler's rider. Occaisonally, we'd drift in front, but it wouldn't be for long. Of course, I was totally content to sit in and watch him do what seemed like idiocy.

Because they'd had to take such an unusual move and halt our race, the organizers decided to give us all a preme to chase on the penultimate lap. So coming around to hear the bell for the final lap, we were also racing for some prize of which I'd never quite heard. But I was feeling ok at that point and wanting to test out the finishing km and I gave it a go. I attacked hard with probably .6km to go and got a decent gap. It looked like I was going to take the preme until at the last moment, an Iron Hill rider passed me and I couldn't quite get him back. He took it and I sat up a bit to gain my composure. No sooner had I done that did Schalk and three others (including Karabin, the Iron Hill rider) go just up the road in front of me. The gap was miniscule and I had every intention of immediately closing it. But the burn in my legs had other ideas and even though I started to put out all the power I could, the gap continued to grow ever so slightly. I was getting frustrated and started attacking out of the saddle to close the gap solo. But I couldn't do it and the gap was, by now, fairly large. I gave it a few more go's, but it soon became clear that I couldn't make it alone. I was very dejected to have missed out on the winning break on the last lap, but I looked back and had no choice but to wait for John Larson and three other riders. At least the rest of the field was long gone.

The five of us traded pulls almost equally for the remainder of the race. I was pretty well toasted, so it took me a little while to gain back some strength. I occaisonally would skip a pull and let Larson take it for me in an attempt to save some for the finish. Once John and I were in the back, we were able to whisper about strategy and I asked him for a lead-out. He said he'd give it a shot. With probably five miles to go, the motor official informed us that we were 0:30 back on the main break of four riders. I confirmed with him that there were indeed four riders up in front because I needed to know how many of the guys around me I'd need to beat in the sprint in order to score some points. Four up front meant that I'd need to finish no worse than second in our pack.

We traded pulls as if we were all on the same team until just past the 1km to go mark when one rider started to up the pace ever so slightly. I had no intentions of repeating my previous lap's mistake of going too early, so I hopped in right beind him and followed him as close to the finish as he'd take me. I looked back to find Larson for a lead-out, but it was clear he was trying to hold on at that point. I rode the other rider till just past the 200m to go banner and then gave it full gas. I easily gapped everyone in my group and finished a solid, but still disappointing 5th. I secured two points to run my total to twenty-one and become eligible for a Cat. 3 upgrade. But it was terrible to think that if I'd only closed that gap I might have had a shot at the win, or more realistically, second place. Schalk took the victory for an absolutely amazing display of strength. Chatting briefly with him after the race, I found out he's also a Cat. 4 and that put him over the limit as well to upgrade to Cat. 3. Funny to think he's only now a Cat. 3.

The results were posted very quickly due to the small fields. I soon had my $40 in prize money and a free entry to the Pieffer Hill RR to be held in two weeks time. Not bad for $75 in total winnings. My legs were absolutely gone and I was happy that I could rest on the ride back home. I think I fell asleep for about an hour after we stopped at Arby's. This was really the hardest race I've done since Poolesville and we have Mr. Schalk to thank for that. I told him thanks, becuase without him, I'm fairly certian this one would have ended in the standard field sprint. This one was comparable to the Tour de Moore in terms of how my legs felt. But finishing 5th is a lot less demoralizing than finishing unnoticed in the peloton.

Jim: Great Big Dopes

By now I'm sure everybody has heard about the great big doping scandal emanating out of Spain. On the week Lance is more or less (kind of) cleared of some very warped doping allegations, we ignore that news in favor of the most current scandal. Our minds are buzzing (on caffeine only - no dope amongst us slowpoke Low Cat racers) with all sorts of questions. Who will get taken down? Does the UCI mean it this time? Does it signal a growing willingness by government authorities in Europe to do something that has never happened before, clean up the doping from sports?

As usual, we needn't wait for the news cycle to answer our questions. If you look closely, all our questions were answered decades ago in the classic film, Casablanca. Jigger around a few of the character names, use (mostly) *real quotes* from the film, and this whole doping scandal becomes clearer.
-----------------------------------------------------

Senior Ferrari*: As the leader of all illegal activities in Casablanca, I am an influential and respected man.

Dick Pound: That is the reason we permit you to remain open.

Roberto Heras: Don't listen to him. Fill it up!

The Tifosi: I'm shocked, shocked to find that doping is going on in here!

Emma O'Reilly: I remember every detail. Lance wore gray, Liberty Seguros wore blue.

L'Equipe: We have a complete dossier on you: American, age 37. Cannot return to his country. The reason is a little vague. We also know what you did in Paris, and also we know why you left Paris.

The Tifosi: Are you sure this place is honest?

Dick Pound: You know how you sound. . . Like a man who's trying to convince himself of something he doesn't believe in his heart.

UCI: I'm sorry for asking. I forgot we said no questions.

Spanish Authorities: Realizing the importance of the case, my men are rounding up twice the usual number of suspects.
---------------------------------------------

So there you have it. All clear now, right? I've answered all your questions? Good.

And make no mistake about it, I am as adamant in the UCI in insisting that there be no drugs in cycling. None whatsoever. Not one drop. Drugs should only be used for legitimate purposes. I stand with Fausto Coppi and Jacques Anquetil (well, I would if they were alive, and would tolerate being seen near a fat wannabe like me) in saying this. **

That's all I have for today. I have to go now. It's time for my kidney disorder treatments. Man, I don't know what I'd do without that Erythropoietin. Thank goodness for the miracles of modern medicine.


* Dr. Ferrari is a pioneer in both scientific training for bicyclists (a la Tudor Bompa and Joe Friel) and in doping for bicyclists. He has been convicted of doping offenses in a court of law.

** According to British Cycling Weekly,

Coppi said that amphetamines were popular among cyclists in the late 1940s and 1950s. When asked if he took them he replied: “Only when necessary.” And how often was that? “Almost all the time.” Anquetil’s quote is even more wellknown. He said a rider could not be expected to survive the Tour de France on water alone.

I wish governments and sports sanctioning bodies would do something about doping, but they don't seem to be too determined, as a group, to do anything other than posture, wax philosophic about the purity of sport, and turn a blind eye. The real rule doesn't appear to be "don't dope," it's "don't get caught doping." (I know, there's no Easter Bunny either...) This is sad, and given my perception that fighting doping is a lost cause for practical and political reasons, the next best thing I can do is make fun of the hypocrisy; governments and sanctioning bodies should at least be open in acknowledging the ethos that their actions (and more importantly acts of omission) support. Please take this blog entry as a criticism of that hypocrisy, and of the "cheat to win" mentality.

Not too much to report on this one. This was a typical Muffin ride full of easy spinning. I had hopes of sticking around for some hot chocolate, but I had to get to work to finish up a report. My legs feel good and I'm ready for tomorrow. I could definitely use some more sleep though. Jess left for Florida yesterday evening, so my support crew will be absent at Rapho.