Better Stories

So I've been spending a lot of time this weekend thinking about what I would write for my blog this week.  In order to gain some inspiration I checked out a blog that I often read although doesn't get updated as often as it use to.  The author is named Steevo.  That's it, just Steevo.  Sure he has a last name but anyone that knows Steevo knows him only as Steevo.  

I met Steevo a few years back in Pittsburgh.  He is friends and teammates with Jerry and is a really funny and interesting guy.  Whenever I'm in the 'burgh Jerry and I can always count on Steevo to join us for a ride.  

Anyway, Steevo's blog usually has some funny race story or interesting bit of race antics that involve traveling to races.  This past week his post took on a bit more of a serious tone.  Instead of coming up with my own post, I'm just going to tell you to read his because it's one of those things that's worth a read.  Check it out HERE and see for yourself.  

Oh to the Bee

Over the bars, often referred to as OTB, is not just a bar on the South Side.  It also occurs when you are riding a bike (typically a mountain bike) and you decide for one reason or another, to go over your handle bars.  Now, there is typically only one way this happens and when it has happened to me it's never been intentional.  Usually when one goes over their bars they are riding down something steep; drop the front wheel a bit too much or bury it into something; and have their weight too far forward.  This results of this are you rotating around the axis of your front wheel therefore going over your bars and onto the ground. 

The magnitude of going over the bars can vary greatly; mostly based on the amount of speed and the steepness of the angle of approach.  I've experienced several varieties of going OTB from the extreme where I ended up launching about six feet off the front of my bike (on my first ride after I moved to the SC) to the benign where I was able to grab a tree in the middle of the forward momentum thus allowing me to gently fall to the ground.  This weekend I decided to take a trip over the bars with a little more pizazz.  

So Sunday was the annual fall group ride for the local mountain bike club.  We met at R.B. Winter State Park to ride trails that I have never been on.  We were on this super fun downhill stretch that was steep but not bad.  The terrain changed from loose baby heads to giant boulders in a big washed out area.  These trails don't get used much so there isn't a real defined line to ride.  On the burly section of big rocks I was making it up as I went and I chose poorly.

I was doing fairly well with some decent speed when I got bumped off the line I wanted and dropped off a big rock to what I thought was a solid place to put my front wheel when to my dismay, the wheel augured in and stopped.  I, unfortunately did not.  As the ground started coming closer and closer to my face I put out my arms to help ease myself in.  It worked, kind of.  I didn't hit the ground as hard as I could have but I went a few feet out and landed on a bunch of rocks.

I'll admit, it was one of the biggest diggers I've taken in a long time.  My elbow, wrist, and shoulder all hurt pretty bad.  My hip hurts a little but not awful.  The biggest thing is that I cracked my helmet when it bounced off a rock.  Yes, my head was in it so I'm a bit headachy.  I was able to get up and ride away.  The bike was fine and I was fine, for the most part.  I'm a little bummed that I need to get a new helmet, but I guess that's why I wear it in the first place.

Land Anchors

This weekend I decided I needed to spend some time being domestic and get some long neglected chores done around my house.  It was going to be a nice weekend and I had lots of projects to work on both indoors and out, so in lieu of riding I figured I could at least still be outdoors, just doing stuff to my house.  It seemed simple enough, and then I started putting together the list of things I wanted to do.

After twelve items were added to my little "to-do" list, I knew I would have an uphill battle.  I have a porch that needs to be painted and new screens built.  I need to start getting the yard ready for winter, which includes stacking firewood.  I need to get the garage cleaned out so I can pull my car in.  I need to clean my house and start getting ready to paint over all the drywall that I've added/patched.  There was also a handful of small things like doing laundry and getting caught up on some bills.  

What I realized is that my house is a giant time suck of projects that I want to do but don't seem to have the time for.  I don't think these projects are too grandiose, but yet they take lots and lots of time and one thing that I'm getting really good at is underestimating how much time.  On the flip side, however, I could have been like Jerry who ate some bad sushi and spent most his night puking his guts out (fortunately not at my house).  That seemed like a fitting way for him to start his week of debauchery in Las Vegas.  

The Trance

So this weekend was busy for me but I decided to carve out some time on Sunday for a few solid miles on my bike.  Since it had rained a bunch on Saturday, Brian and I chose to hit the road and avoid the trails as we expected the rocks might be a little slimy.  Also, the road would allow us to just keep on peddling without him waiting on me.  That wasn't so much good for me but better for him.

As a typical ride with Brian goes, it was a significant effort that meant I would have a soul crushing experience.  It would also involve lots of climbing followed by periods of quality suffering. I expect this when I ride with Brian so it was nothing new or out of the ordinary.  What was unique was a part of this little excursion that I was unfamiliar with.  

It's no secret that I don't ride with many people.  Brian is one of the few.  Normally I'll hang with him for a short while and then he ends up blowing my doors off and I suffer mercifully the rest of the day.  This ride was different, but only in the fact that I was able to hang with him longer, although I don't think it was my ability as much as he was going easy on me.  Because of this, I experienced something that was relatively new to me.  Here's a quick aside:

For those of you that are new to the road bicycling scene, the concept basically goes like this: If you're on the front, ride as fast as you are able.  If you are not on the front, put the front wheel of your bike as close to the rear wheel of the person in front of you without overlapping.  This allows you to stay in the draft and use less energy.  This cache of saved energy can then expend when you are on the front.  When there are only two people riding some of the group dynamic is lost.  Things you would normally not do in the pace line are okay because you're either the first guy in line or the last.  

So there I was, letting Brian pull me along and I was focused on his rear wheel, doing all I could to stay as close as I could.  I was tired, hungry, and had very little water left.  My body was just going through the motions and I was doing all I could to try and stay on his wheel.  If I got dropped I'd be on my own, but on his wheel I still had a chance of surviving.  I started to become fixated on that wheel.  I was watching the hub.  Looking at the tread.  Ignoring the important stuff like the surface of the road.  My head was drooping and I wanted to hold that wheel as long as I could.  It was like being in a trance where the only thing I could focus on was the hum of that wheel spinning along.  I was burying my self on the most pedestrian of rises in the road just to stay close.  I found myself with my jaw slack as I spun my legs as fast and aggressively as could manage, regardless of the pain.

Then, as if it was all a dream, that wheel slowly began to pull away and all I could see in my field of view was the pavement where the wheel I so desperately wanted to stay in contact with use to be.  I had finally popped like a naive balloon that wanted to meet a cactus.  Eventually I made it home, with Brian, but only because he waited, on several occasions.  We logged just over 80 miles and just over five hours.  It was windy.  But I was on my bike again so it was all worth it. 

Take it to the Bank

So Sunday is early this week.  I know that's not actually possible if you're one the few Julian, Lunar, or Hebrew (you're welcome Jerry)  calendaric scholars out there, but it's true.  Of course it's only true if you're one of the more ardent believers in the governmental calendar that gives just about all of us banking types the day off on Monday for Labor Day; therefore tomorrow is my Sunday.  By default, today has been deemed Saturday.  That's right, I get an extra day of being super (and quite possibly the duper; if the mood strikes) awesome.  

Tune in tomorrow for a blog post that will rock your world.  Or maybe one that disappoints.  I guess you'll have to check to see which one it is...