One to go

It's the bell lap for the '09 cross season. One race to go, not counting the silliness of the Bilenky Junkyard Cross race or the Tussle at the Trestle.

Although chagrined that it's almost over, my body seems on the verge of utter collapse. I dropped out of Phelps after two laps. My brain wasn't in the race and my body quickly followed. I can count on my hand the number of races that I've dnf'd in over the last 20 years so I don't feel too bad about it.

Still.

Hopefully, the last race of the year at Reston this weekend will prove fast and fierce. I'd sure like to end the season on with a bang rather than a whimper.

Hooked on the Hamptons

Meet this weekend's Whimtore's Landscaping Super Cup mascot, Johan Moo-seeuw:I thought Museeuw was the Lion of Flanders, not the Bovine of Belgium. I learn something new at every cross race.

Between this colorful bovine, the artful waffles, and fabulous racing, I guarantee I'll return to this venue. Waffle with bananas, strawberries, Nutella, whipped cream, AND powdered sugar:Great racing included Jeremy Powers, Tim Johnson, and Jamey Driscoll crushing the field in a vicious display of power and finesse. The Cannondale triple threat gangs up on Trebon:I almost shouted, "Someone stop this massacre! Get the tall guy a team!" Lindsay and I checked out the Elite men's start and were impressed by the trash talk coming from the front row. The officials should have tissues on hand in case someone cries.Valentin Scherz (far right) regards the Americans with an air of disdain. Did Trebon really just call Johnson his bitch? Qu'est-ce c'est "bitch?" Valentin and I had some giggles teasing Dave Bersonabout his ability to be a temporary parent to the 19 year old Swiss rider who's been in the states earning UCI points. He currently leads the MAC Series U23 competition.Allez, Valentin! Here he is on his way to a top 10 finish on Saturday. Sunday he finished 5th. Bravo!

I thought the course offered a little something for all tastes and thoroughly enjoyed the thrashing I received from the terrain. Run ups and off cambers, combined with twisty turns and some wooded single track made for a great course. With the exception of the Bilenkey Junkyard Cross, how often do you run across one of these on a course?
Caps off to Myles Romanow for a job well done!


CAPTION CONTEST: WHAT IS BP THINKING?Oh, and BP consider yourself on notice for that little stunt you pulled at the restaurant. Very funny. Very, very funny.

Kat looks like she's doing something unspeakable to this wheel.And don't even get me started on Craig Lebarrier's Derriere.Yowza!

THE STUD AWARD: Goes to Kelly Cline.
Despite taking a nasty tumble onto the pavement which resulted in general nastiness to the hip, elbow and helmet, Kelly surfaced the next day to start the Master's race. Hup Hup Hup Kelly Cline, the Lion of Philly.

SPECIAL THANKS:To all the people who cheered despite receiving scowls and possible spittle (that includes D. Lowe and Glen, the other Zoomer), as well as announcer Joe Jefferson who made me feel super-duper. And a big thank you to Colin (I know I'll regret this) and Julz's pop for pitting for me. After tumbling ass-over-toptube down the hill and then having catastrophic seat tube failure, it was nice having you two in the pit to help me out. The seat height was perfectand I only have minor abrasions from running into my bike. A comedy of errors defines my racing! Hopefully, there's no photographic evidence.

Lots of dirty, rotten Philly crossers came to Southampton, and those who didn't make it were missed. The dinner at the Publick House Saturday night was a hoot, with dozens of racers infiltrating the establishment.

Gotta go register for Phelps. See you there!

Three...it's a magic number

OK, I feel honest now. And ready to get pummeled in Masters 1-3 races.

Explain to me how I can be ranked ahead of people who consistently kick my ass? Maybe I have the racing equivalent to the educational IEP (individual education plan), which gives me certain accommodations so that I can hang with my peers. Instead of extra time to complete races, they shave time off. It's an IRP...Individual Racing Plan.

Everyone's a winner!

Time to upgrade?

Clearly, there's a problem with USA Cycling's ranking system. Last week it had me listed as number 1 in the cat 4 women. HA! So I've seized the opportunity to upgrade.

I realized while chatting with the ladies at the women's 4 start on Saturday that I should probably upgrade to a 3 since this is year 4 of the cross journey. Ali confirmed that the upgrade requirement is 4 races and I've certainly exceeded that limit.

According to USA cycling's bizarre ranking system, I guess it won't be a problem? This is a riot.

Mercer-ful heavens, make it stop

Having skipped the USPG at Mercer last year, I was sort of psyched for this year's adventure. The boy and I both decided that had we pre-ridden the course, we would have bailed.The course offered a few twisty windy off camber sections which could have been fun in dry conditions but lost their punch in the peanut-butter mud. The relentless, muddy flat offered no recovery zone which does not help me out at all. Here, Erica Yozell navigate's the mud:Someone asked if the course reminded my of Granogue, to which I replied with a resounding "NO." Not even close. Don't insult Granogue that way. Jimmy took a 2 hour nap in the car after his race, and slept the whole way home.

I did have the best waffle ever. Nutella, chocolate, strawberries and whip cream. I earned it. Of course, this type of eating explains the marsupial gut:I don't even drink beer, and yet there is the telltale gut. So unfair.

The best part of the day, other than waffles, was pitting for Fergie in the Masters race and Valentin in the pro race. Valentin's host, Dave Berson, needed a hand with pitting since his shoulder has still not recovered from a fall during the Nittany race. With only one power washer available, the pit was like a scene from Thunderdome. I'm pretty sure I expended more energy in the pit than in my sad sack race. Speaking of which...

I'm leaving this one in the mud. It's like the French Creek mtb race this year...best never mentioned again. I mention it here only to prove a point.

I had a nice chat with Kevin Dillard and Kirk Thibaut, who I didn't recognize in civilian clothing. My mind is going. Here's good old Dennis Smith, who takes great race photos:The shot kind of captures the gloomy nature of the day. Fortunately, it was warm out, as my barefoot progeny, seen here imitating a cow, will attest:Sunday I avoided cx altogether, opting instead for a mtb ride in the Wiss and Belmont. Almost altogether, that is...I rode a cross bike and now my palms are blistered. Easy there, gutter brains! Try riding technical single track with drop bars and see how your palms respond.

We had a rare Walt sighting during our ride:Always a pleasure to see the man, the myth, the legend. We also ran into Jessica Singerman and Tim Bowman on our way from the Wiss to the Plateau. Consensus has been reached about the Mercer course. Blah.

We took a lot of breaks today, hoping to extend our ride and in turn, the weather. What a day! Here is break #22, where we all tried out Frankie's new IF.She's a looker. The light green metallic shade with the pink decals is something else. Tres arty.

Here Jill, Elizabeth and yours truly wait for Frankie to fix something on her bike.Why do all the expensive bikes require the most attention? It's crazy.

Sorry to have missed the day 2 drama at Mercer, but it sure was fun to be in the woods with the girls again.

Why I Race

Donuts.

And friends. As Jimmy and I were warming up for The Wayne Scott Memorial race at Fair Hill yesterday, M and Naomi surprised us with donuts and good cheer. They were off to a mountain bike ride but stopped by with good wishes before heading out.

I heart my mountain bike girls.

I guess it's different for everyone, but for me, racing is 80% social and 20% about competition. Even while racing, it's important to cheer for the competition while trying to kick collective ass. Ass kicking with kindness. If you're not having fun, go home. Add your own platitude, but you get the idea.

Helmets off to the B girls who went to the line with the A girls yesterday. That took extra ovaries and you all fared well. I'm talking to you Christine and Katrina. Way to go!

And extra special hugs for the boy, who despite losing his pedal from his stripped crank, finished the race running. Check out his right pedal, which came off for the final time somewhere near the pit:

I played hookey from racing on Sunday, opting instead for a mtb ride in the Wiss with fellow Dirties Naomi, M, Bonnie and Robert, and of course, the boy. We spotted other dirty rotten crossers playing hookey, too. I hope that the Spring Mountain race was a success, and am sure Craig set up a great course.

It was a glorious day to just noodle around the woods and then eat Danish from the Night Kitchen. Yummy.

Off to take care of much-neglected business on the home front.

It's a bird! It's a plane! Its....

my fucking bike flying off the roof of the car.

The same move in the mid-80's driving to Nantucket when my buddy's windsurfer blew off the roof on 95. Someone up there must be protecting the people around me because in both incidents, no one was hurt.

Imagine a cross bike flying through your windshield. Yeah me. Fortunately, as the Felt flew off the roof (what kind of idiot forgets to fasten the straps? My kind, apparently), a pedal caught on the wheel of another bike, preventing if from launching of the roof at 60 mph. It would be the fastest that bike has ever gone, I'll tell you that.

Hugs and kisses to the Yozells for pulling over to make sure we were OK. We're OK! They may want to reconsider with whom they leave their child at races.

Phew. So glad I didn't hurt anyone. So, I managed to wrap myself in course tape without incident and was spared the heartache of a trashed bike or injured driver. These things tend to come in threes....stay outta my way, if you know what's good for you.