That title is a suggestion for Justin Bieber's next single. You're welcome, beebz.
Anyway, shall I get to it?!
MONDAY, 5:00 AM
I awoke in a flushed sweat, swimming in a blanket that was much too warm. I felt a general awful feeling. "GOD," I thought, "I WOULD GET SICK. I JUST WOULD." I threw the blanket away and tried to sleep. I succeeded, and slept. And slept. And slept.
I slept through what would have been our morning spin. I had a clusterous sniffle-feeling in my brain, and my throat felt like a sort of desert-y scene in a cowboy movie. You know, where the tumbleweed ambles wistfully across the screen, and some whistly music plays. It felt like that. But more awful.
MONDAY, 11:00
I went with Vanessa and Diego to a Latino supermarket called "El Rey," as I thought this may improve my temperament. I got a giant burrito, but my face and brain continued to hurt.
MONDAY, later.
I slept more. I pondered whether or not it was a good idea to race. Could I not race simply because I was sniffling?! I laid on the couch and snored for two more hours.
MONDAY, 2:00
It was time to depart. I still felt pretty gross, but resolved to at least start the race. I would go in, hold a good position until the first prime, and then drop out if I felt awful. That was the plan.
MONDAY, 4:00
After a good warm-up of redbull and Ke$ha, I went promptly to the start line. It was no longer NCC racing, and so the number of riders had thinned considerably. I secured a starting position at the front (finally) and awaited our start.
IT began, quite unlike I had imagined it would. The course, a flat rectangle, offered little to keep breakaways alive. The wind blew heartily down the long start/finish stretch and the turns were wide enough to pedal through. Of course, this does not mean people were pedaling through them.
When the first prime was called, it was only for $25.00. I was somewhat unimpressed. I held my position and waited. After a few moments the announcer called a $50.00 prime. I WANTED THAT THING!!!!!! ON the back side of the course I attacked. I was still standing up when I noticed someone on my wheel. "DAMN," I thought, "the point of this was that I cannot sprint." Now I had some fool on my wheel who could easily take my coveted dollars!
I stood up and pushed a heavier gear. The person behind me did not contest it, and I crossed the line first. Then, I looked back to see that it was Sam schneider on my wheel!!! I was all, "WHAT THE WHAAAAAA". She totally could have taken that from me. But she did not. So I am unsure what her thinking was in chasing me. But that was a cool moment of my life, I guess.
I was not too tired from this, but she did not seem interested in continuing (even though we had a gap). She sat up, and so I sat up and then we were recaptured.
The announcer called a $150.00 prime and this i wanted very much. I was fifth wheel or so and awaiting a moment to strike when Scotti wilborne went to the left. This was quite unfortunate for me. I tried to respond to the right but she had surprised me at just the correct moment, and some other girl was now on my wheel. I hesitated more--was it prudent to pull this girl up to scotti? even if i did catch her, i didn't think i could come around feeling as I did. So, I pulled off in the no-man's land and waited for the group to bring her back.
The rest of the race was uneventful. I was at the front with 5 to go, and somewhere in between then and the finish I somehow allowed myself to get pushed to the back and I ended up coming in like....last. So there's that. But I was happy to win money.
Anyway, I am tired now, and merely wrote this out of love for you my faithful audience. Until tomorrow!
Monday, June 24, 2013
Sunday, June 23, 2013
A LIZARD IS NOT A TOAD: The definition of insanity
"My father says she was born lucky. He says I was lucky to be born. I don't need luck, though. I don't want it. I've always had to struggle and fight, and that's made me strong. It made me who I am."
This is an avatar the last Airbender quote. Zuko, a character defined by pride (and, simultaneously, shame) says it to everyone and no one in a moment of weakness. Or, it may have been a moment of strength. It is difficult to tell.
But anyway. Yes, an interesting segue. I have often told myself that my short reach has been of my own making. If I only believed I could do it--then I could! But the brain is my weakest muscle, and i remind myself of this often. Today was such a day.
SUNDAY, morning
We awoke, ate, and went for our spin. Vanessa made pancakes. PANCAKES!!!! Also, they were gluten free. This is an important distinction. After our ride we laid around and I had high hopes for the afternoon. This was a new day, after all! I told myself this daily and after every disappointment--there is always another race. There is the next race, or there is nothing at all. I don't leave myself much of a choice.
SUNDAY, 3:00
WE arrived at the course, somewhat later than I might have liked. I had that feeling, you know, the one that you've forgotten something. Or, that something isn't quite right. I don't know. Maybe I am retroactively adding this feeling. I don't think I am.
I warmed up, and remember thinking about how hot it was. GOD, was it hot! And I mean, I live in florida! WHAT IS MY EXCUSE!!!! I AM SUPPOSED TO BE GOOD AT HOT. I drank my obligatory redbull, and prepared for battle.
The start was a cluster of butts and spandex, a sweaty hell. I let Laura Van Gilder pass me to get her glorious call up, and some other girl promptly followed in LVG's wake and planted her ass directly upon my right brake hood. Really?! REALLY GIRL????? It was all the stupidity you come to expect from the start. I frowned and resolved to pass her quickly.
Anyway. It began. I hit my clip in (I am getting good at that), but the girl did not move. She simply did not! I almost shouted, "MOVE IT, SISTER!!" but I refrained of course, because I am a polite gentlewoman and what would this accomplish? Would my shouting move her butt from my path? Of course not.
Eventually she did get going, and consequently I did as well. We were promptly stopped by some somersaulting ladies in the first corner. "Wow," I thought, "this is going to be a great race." In my mind, there is sarcasm. But it doesn't translate to text, I guess.
So, I went to the gutter to hop around the bedraggled, fallen ladies. Whoop whoop! I was around. I looked up the road, and back. I was in the top 20! I took a forward moving wheel. Top 10!? I looked forward and saw nothing. This was a familiar sensation, except usually I am dropped and staring longingly at the empty road hoping to summon the strength to bridge back up at 35 mph.
Anyway. This went on for some time. Lap after lap, even in the front, the corners sucked and people were slowing a great deal for them. And then, there was the heat. Dear god! I don't know if it was because I was so tired, or what, but after about 30 minutes...I began to feel like a floppy piece of cardboard, saddled aboard this machine, flailing about trying to make it go. It was no error of position, it was a failing of my human body! MY STUPID BODY FAILED ME. How frustrating.
I saw vanessa behind me at several points, but at this moment she passed me once more and for the final time. I would not see her again. I was relegated to my usual last-place yoyoing, and after a time i could not continue.
So what is the lesson here? I was aggressive, as I thought I should be. And I should be! I did everything I told myself I had to in those first few moments--get up front, and stay there, and wait for the prime! Because that has been a goal. To win a prime lap. I don't care if it is $50 or $500 but I want one! I can do it, too! I was up front and ready but then I could not sustain. This is a weakness in my training, I think, and it is a thing I must address.
Anyway. I try harder tomorrow. For now, I am tired. GOODNIGHT
This is an avatar the last Airbender quote. Zuko, a character defined by pride (and, simultaneously, shame) says it to everyone and no one in a moment of weakness. Or, it may have been a moment of strength. It is difficult to tell.
But anyway. Yes, an interesting segue. I have often told myself that my short reach has been of my own making. If I only believed I could do it--then I could! But the brain is my weakest muscle, and i remind myself of this often. Today was such a day.
SUNDAY, morning
We awoke, ate, and went for our spin. Vanessa made pancakes. PANCAKES!!!! Also, they were gluten free. This is an important distinction. After our ride we laid around and I had high hopes for the afternoon. This was a new day, after all! I told myself this daily and after every disappointment--there is always another race. There is the next race, or there is nothing at all. I don't leave myself much of a choice.
SUNDAY, 3:00
WE arrived at the course, somewhat later than I might have liked. I had that feeling, you know, the one that you've forgotten something. Or, that something isn't quite right. I don't know. Maybe I am retroactively adding this feeling. I don't think I am.
I warmed up, and remember thinking about how hot it was. GOD, was it hot! And I mean, I live in florida! WHAT IS MY EXCUSE!!!! I AM SUPPOSED TO BE GOOD AT HOT. I drank my obligatory redbull, and prepared for battle.
The start was a cluster of butts and spandex, a sweaty hell. I let Laura Van Gilder pass me to get her glorious call up, and some other girl promptly followed in LVG's wake and planted her ass directly upon my right brake hood. Really?! REALLY GIRL????? It was all the stupidity you come to expect from the start. I frowned and resolved to pass her quickly.
Anyway. It began. I hit my clip in (I am getting good at that), but the girl did not move. She simply did not! I almost shouted, "MOVE IT, SISTER!!" but I refrained of course, because I am a polite gentlewoman and what would this accomplish? Would my shouting move her butt from my path? Of course not.
Eventually she did get going, and consequently I did as well. We were promptly stopped by some somersaulting ladies in the first corner. "Wow," I thought, "this is going to be a great race." In my mind, there is sarcasm. But it doesn't translate to text, I guess.
So, I went to the gutter to hop around the bedraggled, fallen ladies. Whoop whoop! I was around. I looked up the road, and back. I was in the top 20! I took a forward moving wheel. Top 10!? I looked forward and saw nothing. This was a familiar sensation, except usually I am dropped and staring longingly at the empty road hoping to summon the strength to bridge back up at 35 mph.
Anyway. This went on for some time. Lap after lap, even in the front, the corners sucked and people were slowing a great deal for them. And then, there was the heat. Dear god! I don't know if it was because I was so tired, or what, but after about 30 minutes...I began to feel like a floppy piece of cardboard, saddled aboard this machine, flailing about trying to make it go. It was no error of position, it was a failing of my human body! MY STUPID BODY FAILED ME. How frustrating.
I saw vanessa behind me at several points, but at this moment she passed me once more and for the final time. I would not see her again. I was relegated to my usual last-place yoyoing, and after a time i could not continue.
So what is the lesson here? I was aggressive, as I thought I should be. And I should be! I did everything I told myself I had to in those first few moments--get up front, and stay there, and wait for the prime! Because that has been a goal. To win a prime lap. I don't care if it is $50 or $500 but I want one! I can do it, too! I was up front and ready but then I could not sustain. This is a weakness in my training, I think, and it is a thing I must address.
Anyway. I try harder tomorrow. For now, I am tired. GOODNIGHT
Saturday, June 22, 2013
A LIZARD IS NOT A TOAD: Clever title derived from the day, except lizard does not know what day it is
This would be another edition of Lizard: Where the Eff Are We? if this were such a thing. Or, perhaps, its own lifetime movie. It would be called, Reptilian Dreams. Or, you know, something like that. Anyway, I'm going to cram two days into this entry, because I fell asleep last night before I could write.
It is hard when I am actually riding and not being a servant, because my brain is so tired. Over and over again I play the race, trying to pinpoint the moment I did not do what I should have. But anyway, I will do my prototypical chrono-blog now. Here it goes.
FRIDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We awoke, as we are wont to do, in the morning. Diego made us eggs because he is great. It poured rain....we bided our time, and awaited fairer skies. Then, we took to the streets for our morning ride. Just a short jaunt, really, but enough to stay loose.
FRIDAY, 12:00 pm
We returned to the Hardman home for lunchies and obviously more Portlandia. Is this blog boring? It seems boring. I am trying to make it funny.
FRIDAY, later
We set off for the race in East Troy. How do I know the name of this race? I didn't have to look it up! No sir!
It was a surburban sort of place, all the houses wood-paneled and similar-but-different in the sort of homey way you might imagine. We parked, and set about our business. Again with the wristbands; today, cowprint. Very appropriate.
Then, warmup--I listened to "Jimmy Iovine" on repeat and whispered, "CRUSH THEM!!!!!" to myself as I did spin ups. I think this is the key. You have to want to destroy people, in this sport. It has to be a fun thing for you, to take everything they think they are and crumble it into a ball. Each day I feel myself get a bit angrier, as I watch my bank account go from $300.00 to 126.00 to fifty. Not really "angrier". Maybe that is the wrong word. But it is a certain pressure. And this makes me happy, because I know the thing before me is something I can do. It is a certainty in my uncertain life.
The race just before ours suffered a chaotic crash with 20 to go; we had to wait for the poor man to be stabilized and transported away before we could stage. I sat staring at the course with a stupid look on my face; there are no nerves anymore.
When we finally began, I was, again, relegated to 70/70th position, sitting sadly last wondering how I could possibly move up from here. A girl's number was pinned incorrectly; we all waited as she repinned. The moments went by. The peloton sat silently, each hoping the worst for the other, each hoping this race held some new success in store.
The course was a punchy six corners. This makes things much more difficult for me, because I am good at hammering on a flat. I am less good at technical riding--but I improve all the while.
Anyway. It was a desperate need to move forward for sixty minutes. I saw Vanessa in 10th position and told myself, "you need to be there!" but the trouble is, sixty other ladies are also saying this. Damn them!
I was sloughed off in the final lap by riders pinging off the back (though I'd tried my best to move up, move up!) I pushed my hardest and caught only the very tail-end of the group. It was good for 32nd place. I remember looking up the road and thnking, "the race is up there." For all my effort, I was not even in the race.
FRIDAY, 5:00
Vdrigo and I met up to watch Diego's race. I was violently beamed with an ejected water bottle during this 90 minute period. Just throwing that out there.
Diego's race ended with another stupid UHC sweep (of course) and directly afterward we went out for dinner at a place where they served beer. WHEEEEEEEE
Golly this is exhaustive. My eyes are tired!
SATURDAY!!!!!!!!!!
That is today! The morning: breakfast, pre-ride, and lunch. And, of course, more portlandia. Anyway, the race. The race is what we should be interested in, isn't it? Yes.
It was a course that probably should have suited me. Wide turns, and a slight uphill to help me hold position! things should have been very good!
Anyway, it happened mostly as it always does. It began, I clipped in spectacularly, and we were off. I was turning as well as I could ever expect myself to, and the pace was not too difficult. I was moving up aggressively along any open line, and I even reached the very front of the group. A modest goal, yes. But I did it and that is something.
So, there was a large crash about halfway through the race. Nobody really knew what happened, but I did see a girl's front fork sheared off her bike with the wheel still attached. It was traumatic to see, but more traumatic because I was behind it and forced to chase for the next two laps. It was damnably bad luck, but something I allowed to happen by BEING TOO FAR BACK AHHHHHHHH. Curses.
There was another crash in the final corner, just in front of me. I whipped around to finish just behind the peloton. 34th, i think.
Tomorrow is another day. I fight them harder! I am tired of writing. I go sleep now. HAMMPPPPPPP
It is hard when I am actually riding and not being a servant, because my brain is so tired. Over and over again I play the race, trying to pinpoint the moment I did not do what I should have. But anyway, I will do my prototypical chrono-blog now. Here it goes.
FRIDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We awoke, as we are wont to do, in the morning. Diego made us eggs because he is great. It poured rain....we bided our time, and awaited fairer skies. Then, we took to the streets for our morning ride. Just a short jaunt, really, but enough to stay loose.
FRIDAY, 12:00 pm
We returned to the Hardman home for lunchies and obviously more Portlandia. Is this blog boring? It seems boring. I am trying to make it funny.
FRIDAY, later
We set off for the race in East Troy. How do I know the name of this race? I didn't have to look it up! No sir!
It was a surburban sort of place, all the houses wood-paneled and similar-but-different in the sort of homey way you might imagine. We parked, and set about our business. Again with the wristbands; today, cowprint. Very appropriate.
Then, warmup--I listened to "Jimmy Iovine" on repeat and whispered, "CRUSH THEM!!!!!" to myself as I did spin ups. I think this is the key. You have to want to destroy people, in this sport. It has to be a fun thing for you, to take everything they think they are and crumble it into a ball. Each day I feel myself get a bit angrier, as I watch my bank account go from $300.00 to 126.00 to fifty. Not really "angrier". Maybe that is the wrong word. But it is a certain pressure. And this makes me happy, because I know the thing before me is something I can do. It is a certainty in my uncertain life.
The race just before ours suffered a chaotic crash with 20 to go; we had to wait for the poor man to be stabilized and transported away before we could stage. I sat staring at the course with a stupid look on my face; there are no nerves anymore.
When we finally began, I was, again, relegated to 70/70th position, sitting sadly last wondering how I could possibly move up from here. A girl's number was pinned incorrectly; we all waited as she repinned. The moments went by. The peloton sat silently, each hoping the worst for the other, each hoping this race held some new success in store.
The course was a punchy six corners. This makes things much more difficult for me, because I am good at hammering on a flat. I am less good at technical riding--but I improve all the while.
Anyway. It was a desperate need to move forward for sixty minutes. I saw Vanessa in 10th position and told myself, "you need to be there!" but the trouble is, sixty other ladies are also saying this. Damn them!
I was sloughed off in the final lap by riders pinging off the back (though I'd tried my best to move up, move up!) I pushed my hardest and caught only the very tail-end of the group. It was good for 32nd place. I remember looking up the road and thnking, "the race is up there." For all my effort, I was not even in the race.
FRIDAY, 5:00
Vdrigo and I met up to watch Diego's race. I was violently beamed with an ejected water bottle during this 90 minute period. Just throwing that out there.
Diego's race ended with another stupid UHC sweep (of course) and directly afterward we went out for dinner at a place where they served beer. WHEEEEEEEE
Golly this is exhaustive. My eyes are tired!
SATURDAY!!!!!!!!!!
That is today! The morning: breakfast, pre-ride, and lunch. And, of course, more portlandia. Anyway, the race. The race is what we should be interested in, isn't it? Yes.
It was a course that probably should have suited me. Wide turns, and a slight uphill to help me hold position! things should have been very good!
Anyway, it happened mostly as it always does. It began, I clipped in spectacularly, and we were off. I was turning as well as I could ever expect myself to, and the pace was not too difficult. I was moving up aggressively along any open line, and I even reached the very front of the group. A modest goal, yes. But I did it and that is something.
So, there was a large crash about halfway through the race. Nobody really knew what happened, but I did see a girl's front fork sheared off her bike with the wheel still attached. It was traumatic to see, but more traumatic because I was behind it and forced to chase for the next two laps. It was damnably bad luck, but something I allowed to happen by BEING TOO FAR BACK AHHHHHHHH. Curses.
There was another crash in the final corner, just in front of me. I whipped around to finish just behind the peloton. 34th, i think.
Tomorrow is another day. I fight them harder! I am tired of writing. I go sleep now. HAMMPPPPPPP
Thursday, June 20, 2013
A LIZARD IS NOT A TOAD: Lizard Hood races through Sherwood Criterium
Lizard Hood! That made me laugh. Probably just because I am tired, and the idea of me giving money to poor people is hilarious. Also, the race isn't even called Sherwood. It's shorewood. I MAKE IT BETTER.
Anyway, I apologize for the lackluster entries past, hopefully I have some more gusto in me tonight!
Here we go.
THURSDAY, THE CRACK OF DAWN
Yes, again! These northern sunrises come early and have a knack for finding the exact path through the window and into my eyeballs. Even in our luxurious dungeon, I found myself wide awake at about 8:00 am--if you know me, you know that is preposterously early in Lizard hours. We stirred, and Diego fixed us a feast of eggies and toast; Kevin, our host, showed us how to use his mysterious Dutch coffee maker.
THURSDAY, later
We went out for a spin, which felt remarkably like a mountain bike ride thanks to the "rugged" roads of Wisconsin. I.e., you catch air every three to five feet from the sweet jumps.
After our little jaunt, we stopped at a nice cafe where Diego and I had tea; Vanessa sipped an 'Orangina.' Don't ask me what this is, because I can't even say the name without laughing.
While we were relaxing, I was surprised by a tribe of ragged little hoodlum girls, each with a longboard wrapped under a prepubescent arm. These little urchins threw my cervelo to the ground (perhaps by accident, but this is a distinction I am unwilling to recognize), laughed about it, and pranced away as if this were some trivial thing.
"WOOOOOOW," I cried, finding myself unable to summon the basic powers of speech. "JUST WOOOOOOOW."
The little girls tittered with more giggles, and scrambled away, clearly sensing my ungodly rage. That's right, little girls, you'd better run. RUN. CAUSE THE LIZARD TAKES NO PRISONERS.
THURSDAY, 12:00
We retired to la casa Hardman for lunchies and to watch a show that I consider to be like as the crack cocaine. It is called 'Out of the Wild' and it makes me chuckle. Basically, like fifteen strangers subject themselves to absurd tortures of nature for no prize other than knowing that they are the craziest people alive. I may or may not still be watching it now. I will never tell.
THURSDAY, 2:45
We piled into the car to leave for the first of eleven races. We had one errand before departing to the race; this was to collect a fellow racer, Kat Carr, from her host housing and deliver her to the course where her teammates would be. We did this, with much gusto.
On the way to the course we encountered (of course) the mighty fearless femme ladies cruising over a large bridge that did not look like it had ever expected to be graced with such cycling majesty. We honked, and waved, because we have no shame.
THURSDAY, later.
We arrived at the course, and went to registration. It was here that I learned that we would be forced to wear wristbands at each race, like little tweens who try to go out to nightclubs and illegally slurp alcoholic beverages.
"These are not aero," I cried, while strapping the starred-and-striped paper thing to my arm.
"They are patriotic," Vdrigo repied.
We took to our warmups: for me, redbull and some slapping of my own face and thinking about how poor I am. Also I rode around some. But what can you do.
THURSDAY, 5:00
The race was a paltry 20 minutes out, and I was taken with a feeling I had never felt before. It was a good feeling, certainly, a feeling that I could do well if only I used all of the knowledge that I knew I had. This knowledge, sometimes given and other times taken--this was what I needed for success! I
THURSDAY, 5:24
I awaited the whistle with my heart in my throat. Next to me was Mia Loquai, who had worn the White jersey for a bit at Nature Valley. I made a mental note that I had to beat her if I wanted the amateur jersey myself. Then, the whistle blew.
I clipped in right away, which filled me with both gleeful happiness and astonishment. Things never went this well! But there I was, and they were. I did not question it, and instead followed some wheel that seemed to be going forward.
The course was a circuitous mishmash of potholes and terror. Two elongated straights connected whippy turns. All the while divets and imperfections in the road set everyone's teeth on edge. The group was twitchy, nervous, and quiet.
The pace was not fast enough to check the flow of the group. When you moved up instantly there was some new wheel coming up beside you and pushing in. Egad! I thought, unceremoniously, how does Vdrigo stay up here?! I could see her, constantly perched just sort of ahead--3 wheels ahead, or four. But of course, this meant I was at least ten-to-fifteen positions back. My standards were not high enough. But the principle of my race was good, I think, and never did I find myself in my usual last-place yoyo slot.
But, yes, it was a hectic, devilish swarm of ladies, and that is not even a good thing! This went on for quite some time, with primes being called but not really heard by anyone but the first few riders. I know this, because I confirmed it with basically everyone. EVERYONE.
With 3 to go, I was a big baby and let some girl push me toward the curb. I braked hard and lost a lot of positions. Stupid lizard! I should have pushed back, but I did not. Damn my good nature! I must be the size of two of her!!!!!! ALL I HAD TO DO WAS LEAN IN AND SCARE HER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tomorrow I punch her in the teeth.
Jarred by this near miss, I hit a big pothole which dropped my chain, and then I took the final turn stupidly wide and lost 10 more positions. Vanessa, for some reason, was behind me and watched me take this graceless turn with much confusion.
"I just don't know what you were doing," she later told me. Neither do I, Vanessa. Neither do I.
I finished in a mediocre 40th. I was encouraged, though, by my ability to move through the peloton (somewhat) and by how great I felt during the race.
THURSDAY, 8:00
Vanessa and I settled in for Diego's race. I was given a free "soda" from the nice people in the giant Chrome hippy van parked near us. United Healthcare pulled all their usual tricks, 1-2 and 3 on the podium. OOH WHAT A SURPRISE. SOMEONE PICK MY JAW UP OFF THE GROUND AND REATTACH IT TO MY FACE
THURSDAY, later
Diego made a rice concoction! It had eggs in in. EGGGGGG. We ate it and it was good. WE are now still watching Out of the Wild, so I will depart now. Goodnight!!
Anyway, I apologize for the lackluster entries past, hopefully I have some more gusto in me tonight!
Here we go.
THURSDAY, THE CRACK OF DAWN
Yes, again! These northern sunrises come early and have a knack for finding the exact path through the window and into my eyeballs. Even in our luxurious dungeon, I found myself wide awake at about 8:00 am--if you know me, you know that is preposterously early in Lizard hours. We stirred, and Diego fixed us a feast of eggies and toast; Kevin, our host, showed us how to use his mysterious Dutch coffee maker.
THURSDAY, later
We went out for a spin, which felt remarkably like a mountain bike ride thanks to the "rugged" roads of Wisconsin. I.e., you catch air every three to five feet from the sweet jumps.
After our little jaunt, we stopped at a nice cafe where Diego and I had tea; Vanessa sipped an 'Orangina.' Don't ask me what this is, because I can't even say the name without laughing.
While we were relaxing, I was surprised by a tribe of ragged little hoodlum girls, each with a longboard wrapped under a prepubescent arm. These little urchins threw my cervelo to the ground (perhaps by accident, but this is a distinction I am unwilling to recognize), laughed about it, and pranced away as if this were some trivial thing.
"WOOOOOOW," I cried, finding myself unable to summon the basic powers of speech. "JUST WOOOOOOOW."
The little girls tittered with more giggles, and scrambled away, clearly sensing my ungodly rage. That's right, little girls, you'd better run. RUN. CAUSE THE LIZARD TAKES NO PRISONERS.
THURSDAY, 12:00
We retired to la casa Hardman for lunchies and to watch a show that I consider to be like as the crack cocaine. It is called 'Out of the Wild' and it makes me chuckle. Basically, like fifteen strangers subject themselves to absurd tortures of nature for no prize other than knowing that they are the craziest people alive. I may or may not still be watching it now. I will never tell.
THURSDAY, 2:45
We piled into the car to leave for the first of eleven races. We had one errand before departing to the race; this was to collect a fellow racer, Kat Carr, from her host housing and deliver her to the course where her teammates would be. We did this, with much gusto.
On the way to the course we encountered (of course) the mighty fearless femme ladies cruising over a large bridge that did not look like it had ever expected to be graced with such cycling majesty. We honked, and waved, because we have no shame.
THURSDAY, later.
We arrived at the course, and went to registration. It was here that I learned that we would be forced to wear wristbands at each race, like little tweens who try to go out to nightclubs and illegally slurp alcoholic beverages.
"These are not aero," I cried, while strapping the starred-and-striped paper thing to my arm.
"They are patriotic," Vdrigo repied.
We took to our warmups: for me, redbull and some slapping of my own face and thinking about how poor I am. Also I rode around some. But what can you do.
THURSDAY, 5:00
The race was a paltry 20 minutes out, and I was taken with a feeling I had never felt before. It was a good feeling, certainly, a feeling that I could do well if only I used all of the knowledge that I knew I had. This knowledge, sometimes given and other times taken--this was what I needed for success! I
THURSDAY, 5:24
I awaited the whistle with my heart in my throat. Next to me was Mia Loquai, who had worn the White jersey for a bit at Nature Valley. I made a mental note that I had to beat her if I wanted the amateur jersey myself. Then, the whistle blew.
I clipped in right away, which filled me with both gleeful happiness and astonishment. Things never went this well! But there I was, and they were. I did not question it, and instead followed some wheel that seemed to be going forward.
The course was a circuitous mishmash of potholes and terror. Two elongated straights connected whippy turns. All the while divets and imperfections in the road set everyone's teeth on edge. The group was twitchy, nervous, and quiet.
The pace was not fast enough to check the flow of the group. When you moved up instantly there was some new wheel coming up beside you and pushing in. Egad! I thought, unceremoniously, how does Vdrigo stay up here?! I could see her, constantly perched just sort of ahead--3 wheels ahead, or four. But of course, this meant I was at least ten-to-fifteen positions back. My standards were not high enough. But the principle of my race was good, I think, and never did I find myself in my usual last-place yoyo slot.
But, yes, it was a hectic, devilish swarm of ladies, and that is not even a good thing! This went on for quite some time, with primes being called but not really heard by anyone but the first few riders. I know this, because I confirmed it with basically everyone. EVERYONE.
With 3 to go, I was a big baby and let some girl push me toward the curb. I braked hard and lost a lot of positions. Stupid lizard! I should have pushed back, but I did not. Damn my good nature! I must be the size of two of her!!!!!! ALL I HAD TO DO WAS LEAN IN AND SCARE HER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tomorrow I punch her in the teeth.
Jarred by this near miss, I hit a big pothole which dropped my chain, and then I took the final turn stupidly wide and lost 10 more positions. Vanessa, for some reason, was behind me and watched me take this graceless turn with much confusion.
"I just don't know what you were doing," she later told me. Neither do I, Vanessa. Neither do I.
I finished in a mediocre 40th. I was encouraged, though, by my ability to move through the peloton (somewhat) and by how great I felt during the race.
THURSDAY, 8:00
Vanessa and I settled in for Diego's race. I was given a free "soda" from the nice people in the giant Chrome hippy van parked near us. United Healthcare pulled all their usual tricks, 1-2 and 3 on the podium. OOH WHAT A SURPRISE. SOMEONE PICK MY JAW UP OFF THE GROUND AND REATTACH IT TO MY FACE
THURSDAY, later
Diego made a rice concoction! It had eggs in in. EGGGGGG. We ate it and it was good. WE are now still watching Out of the Wild, so I will depart now. Goodnight!!
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
A LIZARD IS NOT A TOAD: and thank god for that, because reptiles are better than amphibians
Do you know how close I was to just not writing this?! DO YOU EVEN KNOW!??
I am tired and really full of noodles. LOVE MEEEEE. Anyway, here you are.
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 19 - The Crack of Dawn
Yes, I know I frequently refer to this time of day. But this time, it was literally that time. The very crack. So. Yeah.
Lynette and Michael roused me before they had to leave for work, and poured me many coffees. We said our tearful goodbyes and I hugged Lynette (but not Michael, because he was feeling sick. He imposed a hug quarantine.) Michael gave me a copy of Leviathan by Paul Auster to borrow for exactly one year, until I can return to the twin cities to race in the granola plateau myself.
WEDNESDAY, 7:30
I packed up all of my belongings and hustled over to Vanessa's to drink more coffee (I need a quart in me before my heart starts going). We said more goodbyes to Melanie and Reese, and then hit the road.
WEDNESDAY, 8:00
We began the 5.5 hour drive to Milwaukee to collect Diego, who would be staying with us in the place of Lapars.
UGH I AM SO TIRED
Ok I think i am over that.
Anyway, we drove, with only one Starbuck stop mid-drive. The road was long and filled with perils but Vanessa and I navigated expertly.
WEDNESDAY, later
We arrived in Milwaukee, collected Diego, and then stopped at a local Thai restaurant for some SAUCY "Pud Thai". What is pud thai? Heck if i know. It was far too saucy. Saucy, and distrustful.
WEDNESDAY, the rest of the day
We arrived at the home of the Hardman's, where we would be staying, and settled in. It was and is a lavish palace. It took me about six hours to figure out how to operate their futuristic television. Vdrigo made us delicious pasta.
Ok literally I am too tired.
HMP HMMMP tomorrow I will write more I swearrrsssssss
I am tired and really full of noodles. LOVE MEEEEE. Anyway, here you are.
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 19 - The Crack of Dawn
Yes, I know I frequently refer to this time of day. But this time, it was literally that time. The very crack. So. Yeah.
Lynette and Michael roused me before they had to leave for work, and poured me many coffees. We said our tearful goodbyes and I hugged Lynette (but not Michael, because he was feeling sick. He imposed a hug quarantine.) Michael gave me a copy of Leviathan by Paul Auster to borrow for exactly one year, until I can return to the twin cities to race in the granola plateau myself.
WEDNESDAY, 7:30
I packed up all of my belongings and hustled over to Vanessa's to drink more coffee (I need a quart in me before my heart starts going). We said more goodbyes to Melanie and Reese, and then hit the road.
WEDNESDAY, 8:00
We began the 5.5 hour drive to Milwaukee to collect Diego, who would be staying with us in the place of Lapars.
UGH I AM SO TIRED
Ok I think i am over that.
Anyway, we drove, with only one Starbuck stop mid-drive. The road was long and filled with perils but Vanessa and I navigated expertly.
WEDNESDAY, later
We arrived in Milwaukee, collected Diego, and then stopped at a local Thai restaurant for some SAUCY "Pud Thai". What is pud thai? Heck if i know. It was far too saucy. Saucy, and distrustful.
WEDNESDAY, the rest of the day
We arrived at the home of the Hardman's, where we would be staying, and settled in. It was and is a lavish palace. It took me about six hours to figure out how to operate their futuristic television. Vdrigo made us delicious pasta.
Ok literally I am too tired.
HMP HMMMP tomorrow I will write more I swearrrsssssss
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
A LIZARD IN THE VALLEY: The sun also sets, contrary to the advice of Mr. Hemingway
I know. I did it again. I am a bad lizard. I have much to fill you in on, yes, and I did promise that tonight would be the night I updated. But I am tired and battling a possible illness of DOOM just before dairyland (maybe. it might also be psychological. BUT WHO CAN EVER TELL). So I will post the briefest of updates and leave much to your imaginations. I am certain they could use the exercise! So, you're welcome.
SATURDAY:
Menomonie! Another road race, this one shorter. 80-ish miles. I told both of my compatriots that I did not believe it in their best interest to ride. In fact, I all but forbade them. Actually, I may have literally forbidden them from riding. But they have noggins of steel and ride they did. What followed was a drudgery of horrid rain and hills like...I don't know, mountains! Everything was so steep. I cried driving up much of the course. And I say "driving up" because golly gee if I remember going down anything! I mean, I am sure I must have. Science, you know.
Anyway. The weather had taken its toll and Lapars took ill. If this were the oregon trail, she would probably be dying of dysentery right now. But thankfully this is only bike racing and she just got a cold. Vdrigo's immunities held and she recovered posthaste.
SUNDAY:
Laura worsened. I think I went on a bike ride. God, sunday was a long time ago! We definitely ate pizza. I suck at this.
MONDAY:
Yesterday...a foggier cloud. Who can tell? What is time? What is life? Lapars did decide on this day that she had to return to Miamers, as her constitution began to fail all the more heartily. I was deeply saddened, as I often depend on her life advice to navigate the perilous waters of adultolescence.
TODAY:
I drove Lapars to the airport and psychosomatically convinced myself that I was falling ill. I consumed probably more ginger, garlic, and lemon than is healthy and did all kinds of voodoo nonsense. I MUST RACE. I MUST RACE DAIRYLAND AND I MUST CRUSH. That is the only thing I can think of, as poverty strikes me and my book blinks incomplete on my word processor. I slept a lot...that is a thing i did.
I am obviously feeling better, as I am updating here, and this gives me hope. As I begin to race, I will publish here a sort of race journal, filled with the adventures of one lizard searching for her place in this strange world!
I must rest. Don't be the reason I fell ill, internet. Goodnight!
(Sorry this post is lame)
SATURDAY:
Menomonie! Another road race, this one shorter. 80-ish miles. I told both of my compatriots that I did not believe it in their best interest to ride. In fact, I all but forbade them. Actually, I may have literally forbidden them from riding. But they have noggins of steel and ride they did. What followed was a drudgery of horrid rain and hills like...I don't know, mountains! Everything was so steep. I cried driving up much of the course. And I say "driving up" because golly gee if I remember going down anything! I mean, I am sure I must have. Science, you know.
Anyway. The weather had taken its toll and Lapars took ill. If this were the oregon trail, she would probably be dying of dysentery right now. But thankfully this is only bike racing and she just got a cold. Vdrigo's immunities held and she recovered posthaste.
SUNDAY:
Laura worsened. I think I went on a bike ride. God, sunday was a long time ago! We definitely ate pizza. I suck at this.
MONDAY:
Yesterday...a foggier cloud. Who can tell? What is time? What is life? Lapars did decide on this day that she had to return to Miamers, as her constitution began to fail all the more heartily. I was deeply saddened, as I often depend on her life advice to navigate the perilous waters of adultolescence.
TODAY:
I drove Lapars to the airport and psychosomatically convinced myself that I was falling ill. I consumed probably more ginger, garlic, and lemon than is healthy and did all kinds of voodoo nonsense. I MUST RACE. I MUST RACE DAIRYLAND AND I MUST CRUSH. That is the only thing I can think of, as poverty strikes me and my book blinks incomplete on my word processor. I slept a lot...that is a thing i did.
I am obviously feeling better, as I am updating here, and this gives me hope. As I begin to race, I will publish here a sort of race journal, filled with the adventures of one lizard searching for her place in this strange world!
I must rest. Don't be the reason I fell ill, internet. Goodnight!
(Sorry this post is lame)
Friday, June 14, 2013
A LIZARD IN THE VALLEY: Where is Billy Joel when you need him?
Can I just take this time to admit that I am lol-ing at my own Billy Joel-ke.
Okay, sorry. I promise I am done.
Here is the day:
FRIDAY, an hour I consider early but probably isn't really
I awoke, and found it too late to hang out with Lynette and Michael, but also too early for Lapars and Vdrigo to be awake. What a conundrum. I used the time to add pictures to my blog, and also consider that I may be entering stalker territory with some of my fangirling. Is it terrible to be appreciative of greatness?! It might be.
FRIDAY, 11:00
Lapars and Vdrigo finally stirred. Finally! I made my way over to them, and we set out for a light spin. I directed them through the course (as my managerial duties demand), and then Lapars headed home while Vdrigo and I stopped for a coffee. She told me several ticklingly brilliant stories of her cycling adventures and I felt it to be quite the perfect morning. A highlight: Vanessa and I were at a crosswalk, waiting for the green light, when another cyclist couple rolled up behind us. They were older, sort of grizzled. You know the kind.
"So," said the man to Vanessa, as he teetered to and fro aboard a jelly belly team edition bike with a belly and a head of gray hair, "which bike do you think is more expensive?" He nodded to the woman with him, who was on a cherry red cannondale. Vanessa indulged.
"I don't know," she said.
"WELL, THIS ONE WAS IN THE TOUR DE FRANCE!!!!!!" He was very proud.
"YEAH," The woman added, "IT'S NOT EVEN A REPLICA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
I was sort of off in space, and only half listening to the conversation. What did they want? A pat on the head, and for us to tell them that their bicycles could give meaning to their dumb lives? We should have said, "Yes, whatever. BUT WHO CAN GO FASTER?" Vanessa would have dropped those fools so fast, they wouldn't know which way was France! Heck, I don't ever know which way france is.
FRIDAY, LATER
What did we do later? Did we do anything?
Oh, yes. I did laundry! That's why I don't remember. Uneventful! Bah. So, yeah. You're welcome, world, I will stink less now.
FRIDAY, 3:00
Vanessa offered to cook me some noodles; I of course accepted and sped over to her place as quickly as my little legs would allow. We watched arrested development (FOR BRITISH EYES ONLY) and consumed our power carbs. I met a very funny cat at this time, whose name, I discovered, was 'Kitty'. Very postmodern, kitty. Very, indeed.
FRIDAY, 4:30
Lapars came down from a slumbery nap and asked me to fetch her some items from a bike shop; I did this with much style and grace while she and Vdrigo kitted up and rolled out to the course. I selected expertly from a wide variety of guus, and then returned to the course.
The uptown atmosphere had a definite family flavor, and I felt weird walking around alone. I did not find Vanessa or Laura, but I did find Lynette and Michael, who brought me to a party on course where, apparently, I was to be a guest of honor. It was being thrown by their friend, Amy, who was once a school teacher and had held on to her knack for crafting. She presented me with a lanyard (my party access pass) and a cup of water. I was delighted.
FRIDAY, 6:15
The race began, with all the horror and madness I had come to expect from Nature Valley. These teams are filed equations of watts and rage! They produce such pain, from nothing! I still do not understand how they do this. I screamed for Lapars and Vdrigo, who took turns suffering and moving through the peloton to a better position. I wanted so badly for them to do well, and I still do! Because they are my people, you see!
Anyway, it was a damned hard race, and that was clear from the get-go. Optum was racing smart and shrewd, playing their cards almost smugly and watching the rest of the race react with gasps and pain. They strung Tibco up from the beginning, forcing them to chase and to work, and with 2 laps to go they ripped apart their train and secured the win for Jade Wilcoxson (Whose name, I have discovered, I have been spelling wrong all this time. Sorry!)
FRIDAY, later
I did not see Vanessa right away, but I did see laura, and I went over to see how she was feeling. She was of course a bit depressed about the evenings proceedings; I was moderately discouraged by this. If the masterful laura can be waylaid by nature valley, what hope is there for a mere lizard?! IS THERE ANY HOPE?! She is too strong to be beaten by one silly race, though, and I know this will not stop her ascent to greatness. Vanessa rode strongly, through her suffering, to a top-twenty placing. She is a miracle woman, and a testament to the power of mental game over a cycling race!
I went to fetch ice for ice baths, and we all ate dinner and discussed the race a bit. Plans were laid for tomorrow's feeds and travel itinerary. For now, we go on to fight Menomonie. After that--maybe, sioux falls. No matter what happens I am so proud to assist such iron-hearted ladies as these! No duties could bring me greater honor, truly. Because behind all the frills and whoop-de-doo they fight just as hard, and that gives me hope for the rest of my life! So thanks for that, ladies.
It is late now. Until tomorrow, my friends!
Okay, sorry. I promise I am done.
Here is the day:
FRIDAY, an hour I consider early but probably isn't really
I awoke, and found it too late to hang out with Lynette and Michael, but also too early for Lapars and Vdrigo to be awake. What a conundrum. I used the time to add pictures to my blog, and also consider that I may be entering stalker territory with some of my fangirling. Is it terrible to be appreciative of greatness?! It might be.
FRIDAY, 11:00
Lapars and Vdrigo finally stirred. Finally! I made my way over to them, and we set out for a light spin. I directed them through the course (as my managerial duties demand), and then Lapars headed home while Vdrigo and I stopped for a coffee. She told me several ticklingly brilliant stories of her cycling adventures and I felt it to be quite the perfect morning. A highlight: Vanessa and I were at a crosswalk, waiting for the green light, when another cyclist couple rolled up behind us. They were older, sort of grizzled. You know the kind.
"So," said the man to Vanessa, as he teetered to and fro aboard a jelly belly team edition bike with a belly and a head of gray hair, "which bike do you think is more expensive?" He nodded to the woman with him, who was on a cherry red cannondale. Vanessa indulged.
"I don't know," she said.
"WELL, THIS ONE WAS IN THE TOUR DE FRANCE!!!!!!" He was very proud.
"YEAH," The woman added, "IT'S NOT EVEN A REPLICA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
I was sort of off in space, and only half listening to the conversation. What did they want? A pat on the head, and for us to tell them that their bicycles could give meaning to their dumb lives? We should have said, "Yes, whatever. BUT WHO CAN GO FASTER?" Vanessa would have dropped those fools so fast, they wouldn't know which way was France! Heck, I don't ever know which way france is.
FRIDAY, LATER
What did we do later? Did we do anything?
Oh, yes. I did laundry! That's why I don't remember. Uneventful! Bah. So, yeah. You're welcome, world, I will stink less now.
FRIDAY, 3:00
Vanessa offered to cook me some noodles; I of course accepted and sped over to her place as quickly as my little legs would allow. We watched arrested development (FOR BRITISH EYES ONLY) and consumed our power carbs. I met a very funny cat at this time, whose name, I discovered, was 'Kitty'. Very postmodern, kitty. Very, indeed.
 |
| This cat is not a cat. This cat is a dog. |
Lapars came down from a slumbery nap and asked me to fetch her some items from a bike shop; I did this with much style and grace while she and Vdrigo kitted up and rolled out to the course. I selected expertly from a wide variety of guus, and then returned to the course.
The uptown atmosphere had a definite family flavor, and I felt weird walking around alone. I did not find Vanessa or Laura, but I did find Lynette and Michael, who brought me to a party on course where, apparently, I was to be a guest of honor. It was being thrown by their friend, Amy, who was once a school teacher and had held on to her knack for crafting. She presented me with a lanyard (my party access pass) and a cup of water. I was delighted.
FRIDAY, 6:15
The race began, with all the horror and madness I had come to expect from Nature Valley. These teams are filed equations of watts and rage! They produce such pain, from nothing! I still do not understand how they do this. I screamed for Lapars and Vdrigo, who took turns suffering and moving through the peloton to a better position. I wanted so badly for them to do well, and I still do! Because they are my people, you see!
 |
| STOP BEING SO GREAT |
 |
| Kimberly Wells seems very sure of how amazing she is. |
 |
| This girl is only 19. Where is the hope for my life?! |
 |
| TAYLER WILES. |
 |
| There are two pictures of Tayler Wiles. You're gonna have to deal with it. |
 |
| Jade kicks all the butts. |
 |
| Golly, pro ladies, I wish I knew how to quit you. |
 |
| Dear lord. |
 |
| RAMSEN CRUSHES ALL |
 |
| Colavita: sponsored by oil, but not fat. CONUNDRUM |
t |
| This lululemon rider is filled with a smiley pain. |
 |
| Don't mind me, I am just CRUSHING YOU |
 |
| STOP IT. JUST STOP. |
 |
| In case you forgot, we are optum and we are better than you. |
 |
| Tibco was forced to chase hard and often. |
 |
| Lindsay Bayer getting her suffer on. |
 |
| GO SHANNON. GOOOOO. |
 |
| Shelly olds be like, "DAT PRIME MINE." |
 |
| The peloton fights to stay alive. |
 |
| Lapars, hero and inspiration of my life! |
 |
| Wow, I have a lot of pictures of Ally Stacher, huh? Don't read into that. |
 |
| Don't worry. That's a different lululemon. |
 |
| THE FINAL SPRINT. |
 |
| Wilcoxson be like, "LOL WUT." |
Anyway, it was a damned hard race, and that was clear from the get-go. Optum was racing smart and shrewd, playing their cards almost smugly and watching the rest of the race react with gasps and pain. They strung Tibco up from the beginning, forcing them to chase and to work, and with 2 laps to go they ripped apart their train and secured the win for Jade Wilcoxson (Whose name, I have discovered, I have been spelling wrong all this time. Sorry!)
FRIDAY, later
I did not see Vanessa right away, but I did see laura, and I went over to see how she was feeling. She was of course a bit depressed about the evenings proceedings; I was moderately discouraged by this. If the masterful laura can be waylaid by nature valley, what hope is there for a mere lizard?! IS THERE ANY HOPE?! She is too strong to be beaten by one silly race, though, and I know this will not stop her ascent to greatness. Vanessa rode strongly, through her suffering, to a top-twenty placing. She is a miracle woman, and a testament to the power of mental game over a cycling race!
I went to fetch ice for ice baths, and we all ate dinner and discussed the race a bit. Plans were laid for tomorrow's feeds and travel itinerary. For now, we go on to fight Menomonie. After that--maybe, sioux falls. No matter what happens I am so proud to assist such iron-hearted ladies as these! No duties could bring me greater honor, truly. Because behind all the frills and whoop-de-doo they fight just as hard, and that gives me hope for the rest of my life! So thanks for that, ladies.
It is late now. Until tomorrow, my friends!
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