Bones heal and chicks dig scars

So this is my first post in quite a while, and the reason for this is because I have not been able to ride since the beginning of January. Why you may ask, when we have had some decent weather, and I have basically no classes?

Because I am stuck in a cast kind of thing and am not supposed to be weight bearing for the next month/month and a half.

So here is the story:

I went up to Cincinnati with Jessica to see Jared and his family over the winter break. We had a great time hanging out, went to an amazing concert and a great comedy club and had a blast on Friday. Saturday, we decided to go out to ride on the trails and hit some man made obstacles. This would have been fine, if the weather for the previous weeks hadn't been straight rain, snow, sleet, etc. The trails were muck, our tires were covered, but we were still having a good time. We got to one of the last obstacles, a balance beam. This beam was about six inches wide, and at its highest point about 2-3 feet off the ground. Nothing horrible, or so it seems. Jess, Jared and I all took turns and we kept at it for about 15 minutes, until my front tire slid off the beam to the right, and the bike took my foot with it. Intense pain follows along with me sitting on the beam with my left foot in my lap, trying to keep myself from vomiting all over the trail. My foot even popped back into place, or so it felt.

So, I cant walk because of the pain, so there is basically one way to get back to the car... ride my way about half a mile to get to the trail head. So I am able to kinda do this, have to get off the bike a couple times to go up the hills cause I cant put any power into my foot. Great. Cant walk, cant ride, cant really do anything. So off to Jared's house to ask his dad, "Hey, theoretically, if someone broke their foot, which hospital would you take them to?" Jared's dad said that he would drive and take Jess, Jared, and me to the Jewish Hospital. They took great care of me, and were able to slap a brace onto my foot, but couldn't find anything wrong with it. The percocet that they gave me helped the pain a lot. Two percocet would help just about anything when you have nothing on  your stomach. 

So the next day Jessica and I drive back to Roanoke, and I drive back to Grayson County. Pain pain and more pain, and I go to my family doc to have her check it out about a week later. Still swollen, horribly bruised, and still cant walk. Onto the orthopedist. Carmondy(the orthopedist) took more x-rays a week after the accident, and still couldn't find anything wrong. So we schedule an MRI for the 29th of January and another doc visit on the 30th. Lucky I don't have many classes now. Finally we know what is wrong, a stress fracture of the medial talus bone (which connects the leg to the foot), partially torn ligaments on the outside part of the ankle, and a bruised tibia. Fun stuff right there. 

If I wasn't a healthy 22 year old, and was 4o years old or unhealthy, it would have been a severe break of the talus, and severe dislocation of my ankle. Probably would have had to been carried off of the trail.

So, no biking for all of January, February, and probably part of March. Ugh, and I was going to try Wintergreen Ascent this year. Oh well, guess it gives me time to practice my horn. 

So, the moral of this story is: try the man made object, just expect to get hurt on the 15th try.

Planning for the season

I will keep this short as it is Friday and I know some of you... cough cough ... hate reading blog entries over the oh so sacred weekend. And to be honest I wrote this yesterday and would have posted it then had I not fallen asleep over the keyboard. But I can't wait and post this next week. Then it would be old... and old entries are like old brakes... kinda worthless.

So we have finally gotten some decent riding weather around here. I mean some days into the 50s, not too much rain, sunny skies... great winter riding. And what comes along? A nice little stomach bug. Yeah... fun times. Just ask Andrea. So four (glorious) days, several sleepless nights, and one IV of fluids later guess what happens. The weather goes back down hill. And the next day it looks to be nice is Sunday (Church, Greek Council, hazing meeting, choir rehearsal, Super Bowl, etc.) So no nice rides for me. Ahhhhhhh!

Onto other news.
I am out for The Most Horrible Thing Ever. Also out is the Leesburg Baker's Dozen as it has already sold out.

Here is my list of races to attempt for 2009:

6 Hour Grind- South Carolina / April 11th

Wintergreen Ascent- Virginia / May 2nd
12 Hours of Tsali- North Carolina / May 23

Cowbell Challenge Marathon- North Carolina / June 6th
24 Hours of Big Bear- West Virginia / June 13th
Cowbell Challenge XC- North Carolina / Junes 21st

24 Hours of 9 Mile (National Championships)- Wisconsin / July 24th

Now somewhere in there, something will pop up. Bays Mountain will be a must if I am in the area along with Iron Mountain. And I am sure I will have to pick one race to leave off of my May selection.

Clothing

All cyclists are used to the look.

You know the one I'm talking about. That why in the world are you wearing that inquisitive glare that the non-riders of the world, and there are far more of them than there are of us, give when they see you in full riding gear. It would be imposable to explain why we choose to dress in this manner, and so we just pretend that we don't see the look.

For the most part there seems to be something of a code. We ignore the looks, and they just don't ask outright. You know they all want to ask why we wear it, but it's few and far between that you run into people that actually do the deed. Frankly I'm surprised, as much freedom as we have in this country we tend to simply choose to do what everyone else does. Look around you, how many people do you see dressed in a completely different style.

Of course we pretend that it doesn't matter to us what people wear, which is why I supose this stuck out from my day.

Not long ago I was on a training ride, working out my legs on the mountain. I had lost a couple of layers over the course of the ride so that when I was finished I was wearing cycling shorts, a long sleeve base layer, and a very brightly colored jersey. I didn't bother putting on more layers when I got done riding, I simply tossed the bike into the back of my car and started heading home. I decided to stop and get milk along the way, and pulled into a gas station because it was really the only place that wouldn't require me to go out of my way. When I walked up to the counter the clerk laughed at me.
Oh she tried to cover, saying it was surprising to see me dressed like that when it was so cold outside, but she wasn't fooling anyone. I was quite taken aback by the situation. It was 40 degrees outside, I know because I drove past the bank displaying the temperature 100 yards later, and I was wearing long sleeves. What she was laughing was the spandex and bright colors, I knew it just as much as she did.

I don't really know why it doesn't happen more often. Let's be honest the clothing we wear when we're riding is just plain weird. Bright colors, form fitting, strange bulges on our rears, and we tend to wear the exact same thing as the people riding around us. Why don't people just go ahead and laugh at us more often. The most comfortable shorts I've ever ridden on were Castelli Chronos. They are still comfortable after hours on a bike, but once I sat in a chair in them for 50 minutes and I was unable to sit still.

I applaud the efforts of companies like TwinSix for making the jerseys a little easier on the eyes, and I have to say that if some group of people are going to be wearing spandex, well that group spending hours a day on a bike is probably a good idea. That should be your response the next time you get the look, "I'm wearing it so that you won't." It's a public service.

What's cooler than being cool?

Last weekend I got in some good training rides. Saturday was nothing special, well except that it was scary how slow I was and how quickly I ran out of gas in my legs. Sunday was... well Sunday was great.

Everything went fine as I climbed up 58. I was actually distracted by the beautiful ice hanging from the rock, and the Stumpy was climbing faster and easier than I had ever gotten up that hill before in my life. I was thinking that this was going to be one of the greatest rides ever.

Then I turned onto FS90

It was wet as I turned onto the gravel, very wet. All of the easy speed I had going for me was suddenly out the window. After trudging along for a while under conditions that felt like I was riding with two flat tires I hit the first big turn. Suddenly the road wasn't wet any more, it was simple covered in a solid sheet of ice. For the rest of the climb every single turn was literally imposable to ride. On more than one occasion I almost went down walking.

At the top of the hill I was totally wiped out, and then I remembered that almost the entire descent was in the shade all the time. I thought the climb was bad, but the descent was hair-raising at best, and impassable at worst.

About half way down I ran into two other people dumb enough to also be coming down the mountain. We took about a 10 minute break for trying to keep out bikes upright, sometimes with success for upwards of 100 feet, and talked about riding, racing, and all the jazz.

When I finally got to the trail head I had a great ride. I was flying along the ridge, feeling my hands rattle on the bars. This was my first ride on that bike up on feathercamp ridge and it was really fast, but in several places I really missed the smoother ride of the Enduro. There was only one spot though where I felt any slower compared with feeling much faster on every single uphill incline.

All in all a good ride, an interesting ride, and a great weekend.

Back in the Saddle (and into the mud)

So I am finally getting some miles in. Not a lot, but just enough to get the endorphins flowing again. With the repeated snowing and melting, though, the trails are a mess. I mean slick and yet still amazingly sticky with mud. A mud that not only dies your socks black (unless like me, you wear black socks) but also sticks to unbelievable place on your bike. Like the inside of your brake levers. Anyway, needless to say, anytime you ride on say the Creeper Trail, your cloths need to be put directly into the wash. Which is what I did yesterday when I got back from my ride. Then a grabbed a nice, warm shower.

And then I looked at the floor of the bathroom (also the laundry room). Then I grabbed my glasses to get a closer look. The rugs had turned black. Not like a different shade of the blue they once where, but black. Not good. Especially not good with guests coming over. So I did something I rarely do. I vacuumed. When that didn't work, I beat the rugs out (in the bathroom) and swept. Again something I rarely attempt, let alone finish.

So this leads me to the conclusion that biking is an amazing hobby as it promotes the completion of household chores. Now would someone just prove how biking is a great way to earn money so that I can continue this amazing lifestyle.

Back in..... school

It's been a while, and I know I promised photos and a parts list, but quite frankly I didn't get around to it. It's funny, for about a month now I have had no responsibilities, nothing dragging down my time, and really nothing to do. You would think that I would have lost wight, trained like mad, and probably started thinking of a job or something for when I graduate in just a few short months.
What actually happened, however, is a little bit different. I gained 5 lbs over the course of winter break... a full two pounds more than I had packed on in the previous 4 years. I only went riding about twice a week, and even then I usually didn't push all that hard... with the exceptions of the two times that I tested out the new race rig. Of course, hanging over all of this is the fact that I really have no idea where I'll be or what I'll be doing six months from now. It's an interesting feeling, and I'm pretty sure I would like it if it weren't for the fact that I'm a bit worried about food and shelter, forget my rather expensive addiction to cycling.
As much as I really don't enjoy school, I'm really sort of looking forward to being back. Having places to go and things to do may have its downsides when you'd rather be on a bike, but when I have the ability to stay in bed all day... well I tend to take it. As much as I like riding, when it's wet and cold outside, there just has to be something to get me away from the TV if I'm going to get a training ride in. I just need to hope that starting tomorrow I can get back on track training wise, after all we're only a month away from The Most Horrible Thing Ever.
OK, that's going to hurt at this point. I'm a month away from a 36 hour race and I'm weighing in at about 170. My stamina isn't nearly what it was oh say in August and my legs just don't have the strength to plow through the worst of the terrain right now. You know what though, my bike is at least 5 lbs lighter now than it was then, and more efficient too... so I'll be fine.
I hope.

Long time, no bike

Being this is a blog about biking and I haven't been biking in close to a month, I have been reluctant to post. You see I am currently in Italy the motherland of all bicycles. Without a bike. This is the country that produces some of the most storied and beautiful bikes ever. Pinarello, Cinelli, Campagnolo, Calnago, Sidi, to name a few. Others are simply names. Fausto Coppi, Mario Cipollini, Marco Pantani, Ivan Basso.

Yet once you travel around Italy for a while you quickly realize something. They also have some of the ugliest bikes in the world. I mean I love bikes and think all things cycle are beautiful, but some of these are downright ugly (if beautifully functional). Peeling paint, bent tubes, oddly compiled folding monstrosities, anything and everything wrong.

Yet there are bikes everywhere. And riders everywhere as well. Mothers on bikes with their kids on seats above the handle bars. Women in heals pedaling bike to the store. A woman pushing her bike over a hill in order to coast down the other side on flat tires. And, rarely, racers in full kit leisurely riding by on the cobbles. This makes me want to return even more, with a bike in hand, to ride the country side and city streets.

So from Itally, enjoy the ride as I will as soon as I am back.