Don't Quit

I was thinking about what I was going to write in this weeks blog post around 3/4's of the way through Mud, Sweat and Beers on Saturday.  Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, for you, I have forgotten most of what was running through my head.

Thursday before I had plans for getting in a final ride to make sure I was in good form for the race.  However, work took over, I skipped lunch, then went home to do chores and pack.  Alas, no tune up ride.

Friday I woke with a slight scratch in my throat.  Something wasn't right, but I was hopeful it was something I ate.  I pounded the vitamin C just in case.  I did get out on the TART trail for about 30 minutes.  It was a little chilly, but it didn't feel like my legs were hurting.  If fact, it didn't feel much like anything.

Saturday morning arrived.  I awoke early, and arrived to Mt. Holiday around 7 am.  I had picked up my number the day before, but wanted to arrive early because I knew parking was an issue.  After sitting in the truck resting for about an hour, I knew it was time to start getting ready.

Around 20 after 8, I went out on my warm-up recon.  I headed up the hill through the starting chicane, back down and into the woods.  There was a bit of climbing, nothing terrible, and I continued the ~1 mile into the Holiday Hills subdivision, and saw "Heart Attack Hill".  I was not too worried about the climb itself, it did not appear too bad at first glance.  The issue seemed to be the amount of sand at the bottom, preventing a good run-up at the hill.  I hiked this part, saving my legs for the race.  A quick loop around the sub and I headed back to the start/finish line.

The staging area was filling up, and the line of riders was snaking up the hill to the lodge.  There was a LOT of people.  I had not problem finding my wave.  However, whilst waiting in queue, my Garmin shut off.  When I turned it back on, it "discovered" numerous heart rate sensors.  Apparently I wasn't the only one wearing one! [Note:  Check auto-off options on Garmin unit]

9:06 came quick enough, and we lined up at the start.  The group consisted of all singlespeeders, Expert women, and maybe another group or two.  The gun went off, and the top SSers were gone, but I was caught in a pack of people granny-gearing up the 20' of Mt. Holiday.  Once clear I made my move and took off into the woods.

Everything seemed to be going according to plan.  I was going pretty good through the area I had recently recon'd, but I was feeling a bit "off".  It felt as if I was working too hard.  I looked at my computer only to see " --" where my HR zone should be.  It just gave up looking at the start.  Damn.  I got back to Heart Attack Hill, no idea where I was in the group.  I didn't get passed yet, so that was OK.  I decided to hike up the hill again, just as I had "practiced" during my warm-up.  This wasn't a sprint up the hill, but the head-down trudging of a beaten man, and I was only 1 mile into the race.

Once onto the subdivision pavement, I powered off and on my Garmin, hoping to get some info back.  At this time I was passed by a group of 3 expert/Elite (?) women driving the geared train.  I tried to hang on when I could, but I was out geared.

Into the private land called "Joy Ride" which was pretty fun.  However, I caught the group of ladies again, behind a slower male rider.  The ladies were all spinning along patiently.  I think this was the leaders, and nobody wanted to make the first move, so the just went along marking one another.  However, this pace was not suitable to me, as the long VASA flats ahead aren't really in my favor.

We finally came out of the woods, and onto the first power line stretch.  I made my move around the ladies, but the course was rough and sandy.  I was unfamiliar with the "good" lines and made one aggressive move too many.

I think some sort of sand worm, like from Dune, reached out and threw me to the ground.  It was a spectacular crash.  One moment I was making a pass at ~18 MPH, the next I was on my back.  I did notice I only unclipped from one pedal.  As I tumbled down the hill I rolled over and catapulted my bike through the air using my other leg.  Apparently you can get both good height and distance flinging a ~18 pound carbon bike down a hill at speed!  I came to a stop and immediately jumped up, ran the 20 - 30 feet to my bike, grabbed my bottle which came to rest next to it, jumped on and was back racing.  What felt like a matter of seconds was probably 30-40 of them as I get recollected.  I hit the woods again, desperate to get back with the group that sped away.  In the distance behind me I heard "Wow man, that was an awesome crash!" but didn't hang around long enough to respond.

The next part I don't recall too vividly.  I did a brief assessment of my condition, nothing missing, or bleeding.  Other than some sand in my face I was fine..  Then my bike, wheels went around, brakes seemed to work, chain on, it all seemed good.  A short bit later another SSer caught me.  I don't know him, a blond fellow with a Specialized jersey.  His side was muddy, so it was a safe assumption the he also "touched the floor" not long ago.  I rode with him for a while, at least past the big climb around the 10 mile mark.  He must have had a decently large gear, as I would make the pass on every climb, and he would close the gap and pass back once it leveled back out.  We did this back and forth for a bit, then he pulled away.  Shortly after a single speed Surly caught me, rider wearing a Short's jersey I believe, and disappeared quickly.

This is the part where I was coming to the conclusion something wasn't right.  I wanted to give chase.  My brain said "Stick with him legs" but my legs weren't getting the message.  They kept going around, but there wasn't the fight, no sense of urgency.  I just kept spinning along, no idea where I was, race position or emotionally.  I have honestly not felt like this at all this season.  I thought about quitting, what was the point, right?  I was getting dropped left and right.  I thought I was strong, but these guys left me to flounder like a kid on training wheels.

I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
Without ever having felt sorry for itself.
-- D.H. Lawrence

Then I though about a riding buddy, about the struggles I have been trying to help him with regarding his racing.  How could I tell him to stick it out, that it will get better, if I wasn't willing to do the same.  "I did my best to continue to push the pace.  I never had a sense of my performance, my HR never got too high, my legs never burned.  It was like cruise control.  From mile 12 on, I picked up almost 2 MPH on average over my point of self pity.  I don't know if I can attribute this to my resilience, or just a downward trend in the course.

Back to the subdivision, almost done.  I did what I could on the pavement, pedaling the flats, tucking on the descents.  On the trail leading back up to the Mt. Holiday, I caught a glimpse of orange ahead of me.  One final push to catch the Short's guy ahead.  As I closed the gap, I saw the tell-tale silver dangle of a rear derailleur, and realized it was not the guy.  At this point, I let up, and cruised the final chicanes down to the finish.

One last obstacle, the mud pit.  I saw this earlier and noticed the right side was shallower than the left.  I splashed through in an anti-climactic flourish.  This served as the bland cherry on top of what was a disappointing sundae of a race.

I got back to the truck to relax and change.  No idea of the results (I did not want to fight my way into the area with the displays).  I was able to summarize my race in a single word...pitiful.  That was how I felt, that was how I felt I raced, that was my performance analysis.

I did make it back to the party, and checked my results, I ended up in 5th.  That was ~1 minute behind what I assumed were the 2 guys that passed me during the race, and ~10 minutes behind the top 2 places, that I knew were fast.

In hindsight, I based my performance on last year's results, with the winners finishing in less than 1h10m.  My 1h26m was way behind the goal I had set for myself, and that was very disappointing.  However, seeing that the 2 winners (locals that were top 2 last year) were nearly 10 minutes slower than 2010 as well.

We hung out at the finish and cheered on the other riders trickling in, I had my Right Brain IPA in hand, although it wasn't what I was needing at that moment.  I didn't run into any familiar faces from that point.  I did see one rider come through the mud that some how managed to case the backside of the pit and to a total faceplant in the dirt on the other side.  He hopped back up to the cheers and jeers of those watching, and tried to ride to the finish.  However he had taco-ed his front wheel so severely, it would spin between his for legs.  He hoisted his bike above his head and dashed across the line.  It is this kind of performance that serves as a reminder as to why we all do this.

We did not stay and enjoy the duration of festivities, I needed to get back someplace warm(er) and rest.  It was to the hotel, then the hot tub, then the bed for me.  Later on that evening, the full results were posted, and I finished 36th of a total 447 in the Stout race.  Nothing to sneeze at, or in my case, cough at.

I would like to again thank my wonderful wife for the pictures, enduring the early mornings, my pissy attitude, and taking care of me when I am sick.  This trifecta of grumpiness must not have been a joy to deal with.

So this week, I am going to take it easy, and see how much I can recover in 5 days.  I have already paid for my Brighton Stage Race entry, so I hope to pull things together.

Ever Have One of Those Days....

when everything just feels right?

I wasn't sure if yesterday was going to be one of those days.  I had a busy week leading up to the Custer Stampede.  I didn't get a pre-ride in on the Thursday before because I didn't want to drive 2 hours to possibly ride some muddy singletrack in 40 degree rain.  So, the last time I was on the singlespeed was the Saturday of Pontiac Lake.

I slept poorly, having occasional MTB dreams, although I don't really recall any specifics.  Was it fear of losing, crashing, or just general single track thoughts?

Upon waking, the sky was grey, and I was just hoping for decent weather.  The sky did not change during the ride to Battle Creek, but began to lighten shortly after our arrival.

Registration went very smoothly, especially compared to the previous week's racing. After that, it was back to the truck to chill for a bit, and hang with fellow On 2 Wheels racer Dave Hendon.  After about an hour of relaxing and fluid intake, it was time to start getting ready for my 12:31 start.

I got a decent warm-up in, better than maybe the previous 2 races.  I was still a bit gun shy about getting too far from the starting line after what happened last week.  I timed things pretty good.  I got to the staging with about 5 minutes to go.  I handed my wife my jacket and iPod and took the outside position in my class.

This spot happened to be next to the Custer Cyclery tent, so while waiting for the clock to tick down, some race strategy was discussed.  Since this was the first non-TT event of the year, some tactics would be necessary.  The thought was to start easily, let one of the teams of multiple riders set the pace for the first lap, and move up on the second.  Seemed legitimate at the time.

Then we moved up to the starting line.  My heart began racing, and I was focused on  the funnel to the singletrack ahead.  We were given the "GO!" and I pushed off and clipped in.

Then for some reason, all strategy went out the door!  In the brief 2 seconds it took me to survey after the start, it seemed nobody was going.  So I took off.  The plan instantly became take the hole-shot, go all-out for the first mile, and see what happens.  I figured once we got off the grass, anybody that wanted to pass could take the poor line, and expend their energy.

But it was not necessary.  I apparently set a blistering pace for the first mile.  18.7 MPH, 105 RPM average with a 33:16 gear ratio, not too shabby.  By the time I looked back, I was alone.  I settled into a decent pace, still pushing a bit to make sure I wasn't caught.

There was probably only a couple memorable events the whole race.  The first was the "Pond" in front of what I believe was Cardiac Climb.  I anticipated a couple of inches of water to splash through before heading up the climb.  I was caught a bit off guard by what appeared to be the Mariana Trench through the middle of the puddle.  I was also a bit shocked to see about 4 of the Expert/Elite riders walking the climb.  I am not sure if there was a crash that stalled them, or if they were more geared for the flats.

A bit later I came around the Amusement Park, and fully aware the rock wall was approaching (or I that was approaching it), and I cut  right-hander a little short, and as I peered over the edge realized I was no longer on the trail, and quickly jumped off and ran down the hill before I had the chance to crash.

I finished my first lap in great shape.  I was shooting for a 40 minute lap, and came by in 38 minutes and change.  Thank goodness the organizers added a second lap, making my drive over and $25 worthwhile!  I came though the start finish area and started the second lap.

This time I was ready for the pond, and again cleared Cardiac.  A bit later on CPR, as I was preparing to dismount and run through the loose sand, I had a pedal strike at the worst possible time, and banged my...erm..."headset" on the stem.  No time to slow down now, better just "walk it off!"


As I was finishing the last lap, with maybe 1/2 mile to go, a rider started catching up to me.  I stood to not get passed when he called out "I have gears!" so I let him by.  I then jumped on his 6 and let him pull me towards the finish.  I guess he was not expecting a SS rider to hang with him because he kept yelling "What are you" to which I would respond "The singlespeed you just passed" and he would pedal a bit harder, so then I would too!

He missed the turn to the finish and shot off the course, so I was able to finish alone.  It is good to know where you are in the race, as opposed to waiting for the resultsin a TT.  I enjoyed it!

Then directly after the finish line there was a couple small boys playing a game of "Run back and forth between racers," and nearly lost.  I locked up my rear brake and all I could think to yell was "AAaaaaaaaah" as I just missed him.  I saw him back doing the same thing shortly after.  So as a note to some of those parents out there: THE FINISH AREA IS NOT A PLAYGROUND, PLEASE WATCH YOUR KIDS!

I had enough time after finishing to get a free beer (Thanks Team Active and Arcadia), got back to the truck to change, and return to see my friends from later groups finish before the awards.

It was a great day, with terrific weather, and for the second year in a row, I left the Stampede with a pint glass and a farmer's tan!

See you in Traverse City next week, for some Mud, Sweat, and Beers!

Another Week, Another Race

This was to be my second update to my racing season.  However, I got quite busy at work this week.  Therefore the details will be lacking, after the 4 days I have forgotten most things.  This being my first time to PLRA, I am not familiar with the course to recall the sketchy areas.

The good news is that the Friday before the race, my sweet Metal kit arrived from Twin Six!  My first team gear, now I feel special.

The race was the first event of the "New " Tailwind Racing, the Pontiac Lake Time Trial in Waterford.  Single speeders were scheduled to race at 1:30 in the afternoon.  Plenty of time to sleep in a bit, eat, and make the drive without feeling rushed.

We arrived at the park a little before 11:30 and headed to the registration.  This is where the frustration began.  The line was way deep with people standing around waiting to get their information logged in.  I was not terribly concerned, as I had preregistered afterall.  The sport racer's start was being delayed 30 minutes, so they got priority in the line, then beginners, then us one-geared folk.  After 40 minutes, I got to the front of the line, and entered my information onto the computer, got my start time (1:20:10 a.m.) and was told to add 40 minutes to this time.  I also verified with the Tailwind person that my starting time would be 2:00:10 that afternoon.

Again, I wasn't upset with the delay, as I have my tag now, and sign-in should run smoothly at future races.  I was kind of annoyed about having to stand in line for 40 minutes, next time I am bringing a chair or something.

I head back to the truck and check if my bike is still there.  Did some assembly, stuck on my number, and headed back to the start area to browse around.  I stopped by the Big Ring Coffee tent, and picked up a bag of Single Track beans, for future race mornings.  Around 1:00 they guy showed up that I was buying a bike rack from.  So I made that transaction, and mounted a Kuat NV rack to the back of my truck.  I am happy to no longer have to take of my front wheel all of the time.  I am not sure if I am thoroughly impressed thus far, but still learning.

Any how, it is now ~1:20, time to change clothes and start warming up, still with around 40 minutes before race time.  I get some spinning in, an the legs are feeling rather warm.  I head back to the truck at 1:45 to grab my helmet and stuff for the race.  When I get there, my wife tells me they are starting!

I snatch my gear and get to the starting area at 1:50, a full 10 minutes before I was scheduled to start.  I get to the gates, and tell them "Number 904" to which I was told "We already sent the low numbers!"  I go to somebody else with a clipboard and was told I had to start at the back!  Again, WTF!?!

As I am standing there, straddling my bike, watching everybody go in front of me, I was informed that the promoters were trying to make up some time, so the moved the starting time back up.  Who thought that was a good idea?

Finally it was my turn to go, so I did.  I jumped on it, flew out of the gate and was down the trail in a flash.  Heart rate pegged, my wife said she didn't have time to take a picture.  I was pissed and letting it all go, I never saw the guy I started with until we were standing around waiting for results (stay tuned). 

I honestly don't remember much about the trail.  It was surprisingly dry, only 1 mud hole about 1.5 miles in.  I rode through, I wasn't slowing down for anything.   There was a climb at about 2 miles and I charged up it like a goat on crack.  Some more single track miles in, and I hit the climb around 7 miles.  I There is a sharp right-hander at the bottom which I almost washed out on.  As I result, I carried no momentum up this hill so I hopped off and ran it.  After this is was just more pedaling to the finish.  I was trying to catch my O2W teammate Gus Hemingway (or Hemmingway if you are looking at the results) who started ahead of me, but never caught a glimpse of him.

Once across the finish, it just felt different.  I didn't have my finishing burst, with the puffy-cheeks of fury.  I wasn't feeling overly tired, or stressed.  I am pretty sure I went sufficiently hard.  I almost crashed, at speed, three times.  I luckily recovered each time, only unclipping once.  Seems like I was riding on the edge.

So, I started around 2:00, finished in around 44 minutes (by my Garmin).  I stood around the registration area, and found out that sport awards were not posted yet.    They had to have started around 13:30 or 1!  So I went back and changed.

Now to cut an excruciatingly long blog post short:
~3:45: Sport SS times posted, I was not even listed.  Got in the "complaint" line and waited my turn.  Apparently I did not have a category assigned.
~4:00: I am now on the results sheet, last place without a time.  Back in line.
~4:15:  Awards.  Not sure where I ended up, as times weren't reposted.  I wait.

It turns out I got second place, behind Gus, who flew through the course a full 2 minutes faster than I.  It was an O2W 1-2 finish.

I grab my medal, jump in the truck and head to the Waterford Sonic.  In addition to spending ~5 hours at the race, I only had breakfast that morning (and some Gu).  Time to carbo re-load!

My dear wife ended up getting sun/wind burned face whilst standing around all day.  I have the best pit crew!

Now it is 3 days until Custer.  Cold, crappy weather in store.  See you there!

Payoff!

I am not a patient man.  Once I make a decision, there are not many things I wait to obtain.  However, after Iceman last year, it was time to seriously consider training for the 2011 MTB season.  It was 23 weeks before I found out if this extra work would pay off.

As I posted last week on this very blob, we went out to Yankee as a group for a ride of the course.  As I also mentioned, I also went out for a second lap, a pre-race trail.  I rode moderately hard, and completed the course in ~56 minutes.  That was a full 5 minutes faster than my 2010 race time.  Not bad for a second lap (which I probably could not have done the previous year).  I now had my goal time in mind for the race.

I received some of my remaining part in the mail the week of the race.  Thursday I got my new wheels set-up tubeless, just as Stan had intended.  I received the correct brake adapter, although it still didn't line up nice.  Saturday before the race, I was out in the garage shortening brake hoses and bleeding brakes.  The rain meant no test ride.

Rain the week leading up to the Yankee TT race day was excellent for the course.  However, 30 degree temps and 40 MPH winds were not the ideal conditions.  I say "not ideal" because I truly dislike being cold.  However, it appears that my legs thoroughly enjoy this type of weather.  I never have to tell them to "shut-up" they just keep giving without complaint.

I didn't get a great warm-up, maybe 15 minutes.  I wanted to ride the 2 mile warm-up course, but as I got there, the Kid's Race was going on, so I was left to circle the campground on dirt roads, and hoping I did my assembly work correctly.

12:02:10 arrived sooner than expected.  I was in line to start plenty early.  I was starting next to Pierre, a 50+ Sport rider.  As soon  as I got the signal, I was off.  Au revoir Pierre!  I took off down the trail, through the first ditch and water barriers with only one foot clipped in.  Soon enough the trail smoothed out, I got clipped in and began spinning.  I knew the trail starts mellow, and comes on strong at the end.  This is good, because due to an insufficient warm-up, my legs weren't quite up to the task at hand.

A couple miles in, and I was feeling good.  I was passing riders and not getting passed.  Perfect for a TT.  Racing singlespeed this year, instead of age group, allowed me to identify competitors pretty easy.  I would catch a rider, take a drink, and pass when clear.  No problems, other than when I called out to pass another rider, and he moved over that direction.  I shouldered a tree and had to unclip to prevent falling.  I was back on the bike in a flash, and now had a shot of adrenalin to get me back going.

7 miles in, plastic hill.  I was ready for it, stood and crawled up the hill.  I wasn't fast but steady, catching a geared rider hoofing it up the side. Good enough for me.  Time to burn another match.  I glance at the time, but I had no idea if I was going to meet my goal.

After plastic hill, I was pretty much alone for the rest of the race.  I don't recall seeing any more rabbits ahead of me.  No carrot for me to chase, I just sit-in and run my own race.  The sand had some packed trails I could easily follow, and I had no stupid fatigue related mistakes this year.

I pop out of the singletrack and make the left to head to the finish line.  Time to burn the rest of those matches.  I throw all the power I have remaining, only slowing for the last left.  I stand and hammer across the finish.  TT's come down to seconds, and I wasn't risking anything.  I shoot across the line, through the finish area, and climb off the bike (collapse?) next to the Expert/Elite awards going on.  I got there just in time to see Jorden Wakely get his (Elite) SS award for turning in a stupid-fast time.

Off to the race services computer, there were 3 SS times in already, and I was 52:14.9, in first by 15 seconds.  It turns out I was the 3rd Sport racer across the line.  Not too shabby.  I had enough time to got back to the truck and change before coming back and getting my coffee mug. 

I wasn't sure if I would like it, as the wood plaques of years past were kinda nice.  However, walking around all day with my cup o' joe has been pretty fun this week.   I took the top step with my Fat Cyclist jersey, it was the only Twin Six jersey I had since my Metal kit still hasn't arrived.

I wold like to thank Uncle Fred and his crew for letting us hang in "his" campsite, and sharing the fire.  It was a good warm-up after racing.

Saturday is the Pontiac Lake TT.  A non-CPS race, but I am still angling for another top finish.  I am not sure what to expect, as I have not ridden there before.  So far, for my 2 finishes this year, I am a total of 37 seconds over my goal times.  Payoff indeed!

You Suck!!

I had a relatively decent weekend.  The weather was finally decent, and I ended up not having to work.

However, it was a heckuva week leading up.  Several things happened that probably seem obvious to most others, that I didn't consider.

The main one being that an Avid brake adapter doesn't really work with a Hayes brake caliper.  But after borrowing some parts from a buddy, and some flat washers from work, I was set to ride out at Yankee with the Mid-State group on Saturday.

We got out to the Deep Lake area a little before noon, and ended up having to park along "Team Row" because the front lot was packed.

It was about 50 degrees and windy when we get going.  5 of us from the Mid-State MMBA chapter were there for the "group" ride, and I saw one or 2 others their on their own accord.

The trail was in excellent condition, and the group plodded along, introducing one or two of them to Yankee for the first time.  It is quite a departure when you compare the hills to the "climbs" out at Burchfield park.

As we were wrapping up our lap, we came across a group/family of hikers.  They politely move off to the side, and I thanked them as we cruised by.  When we got to the end of the line, there was a sullen teenaged girl, looking like she just left the basement of NCIS headquarters, and the mumbled "You suck" as I rode past.

I wasn't quite sure I heard here correctly, but then the rider behind me, Rick, explained to me that indeed, she thought I sucked. 

The more I pondered, the happier I became.  Just knowing that I suck relieved so much weight that I felt faster on the very last section of trails.  No criteria to maintain, no training, heart rate, or race related pressure.  Just pedaling along with my sucky bike, on a sucky day, with my sucky friends.

Back at the parking lot, we were exchanging stories and come to find out, Jason was told he needed to "Get a life".  This was such a helpful young lass.  I wish I could get here to come to all of my races, just to remind me that I am just wasting my time.

After splitting off from the group, they had other obligations, I took off on a second lap, hoping to come across the clairvoyant teen.  What else would she reveal to me, was my tire pressure too high, is Justin Bieber going to hook up with Hanna Montana, and most importantly, will Gibbs find out who killed that Marine? The answer is most likely yes to all of those.

I did see the girl on my second lap, but alas, she was too far away for me to hear her mumblings.  I hope it wasn't too important.

I hope to get the Superfly in race form by Sunday, still waiting on some parts.  I think I have it covered now though.  Wish me luck.  I am hoping to finish with a respectable time next Sunday, but should have an enjoyable time regardless.

Baseball Teams

Ever have one of those days?  Well, I am halfway thought my second week of those days.

This morning, I was trying to think of an analogy of what is the current situation going on within my group at work, so please try to follow along.

Imagine you are on a baseball team.  Your team has been awarded a new stadium, but you need to win a bunch of games first.

The first problem is that there are currently 3 players on your team, instead of the standard 9.  This is OK, you just  have to play 3 positions at a time.  You are told there will be new players coming, so eventually you will have help.  However, these new players have never even heard of "baseball" so you have to teach them how to play the game, in addition to playing your other positions as well. (Side note: They will also be signed to bigger contracts than you currently have!)

Now a baseball team is typically led by a coach.  This team has 12 coaches.  There are senior coaches, assistant coaches, and even a player coach or two.

These coaches want to win really bad, but don't want to be responsible for a loss.  They schedule lots of team meetings to tell you how important winning is.  However, they will not tell you the schedule of games, nor set a line-up.  Sometimes you find out you are playing a triple-header that day, other times you prepare for an upcoming game only to find out you are playing a different team, someplace else.

Lastly, imagine you are playing this game, and you are up to bat.  You look down third base line and see your coaches all standing there.  Each one is giving you a different signal.  One says "bunt" and another "swing" with a third signaling "hot dog".  It is up to you to interpret these signals, and make the right decision.  Choose incorrectly, and the loss is all your fault.  Choose correctly, and your coaches get closer to the coach of the year award, and you get to repeat the process for another game.

Some days you just hope you get hit by a pitch....

What a week...

It is still Monday morning, and I had enough.

Last week began well enough, things were starting to pan out for me, I received some good news and planning on moving forward.  Fast forward to today and I was informed that although this was a good idea, it isn't what the "company" is looking for.  Scratch that off the list.

I talked to my Mom and got an "Oh by the way your aunt has Leukemia."  Pure crap.  I really don't know what I can do.  I hate cancer.

Worked 6 of the 7 days.  Trying to figure out how this is going to affect my racing schedule.  Do I need to use my vacation time in order to not work on Saturday?

Shaved my beard off, and now my face is cold.  Not really, but I just wanted to complain some more.

I know the b.s. about life giving you lemons, but sometimes it seems that all I get are shitty lemons.  What can you do with shitty lemons other than throw them out and start over.

I seriously hope I can get my bike together, but I want... no, I NEED to get outside and blow off some of this anger and frustration that is building inside of me.