Sunday, July 30, 2006

oh, and one more thing...

no matter what MK or anyone else might say...

... I was gonna win that damn sprint.


mph, that is--that's the final readout from my workout yesterday morning, and then it drops off the map. Usually, that means one of two things: a malfunction in the computer, or a rapid deceleration--oh, what i wouldn't give for a malfunction in the computer.

first off, let me assure those of you to whom I'm related that I'm fine, or at least I will be very soon--I'm home, I'm eating, and I'm not even gobbling vicodin--although I might want some after I shower today.

But when you're in a full-out sprint to the Eagan city limits sign, and you're up out of the saddle, and your chain comes off, odds are you're going down. And I did, pretty hard. D said it was the second-most spectacular crash he'd ever seen (and the other guy lost teeth, so I guess I'm glad I didn't top the list), and #2 said it reminded him of the Abdujaparov rag-doll routine from one of the mid-90s TdFs. I'm glad I didn't see it.

But I experienced it--yowza. Once I rolled to a stop, I started to wonder how many broken things I had--I just assumed. I'd felt my face scrape the ground, so I checked my nose--nope, fine (your investment still good, Mom and Dad!). I was sitting up, holding myself in tight, and #2 assumed I had broken at least one collarbone--nope, arms lifted just fine. The guys' main concern was with my head--bruised forehead, scraped nose, split lip--but I never lost consciousness, was lucid, and had no nausea--check.

I came home and got cleaned up real purty, but with the split lip--well, I'm just vain enough that I want it to heal properly, and it wouldn't stay closed. Plus, there were those little bruises on my forehead from the helmet doing its job (thanks, Bell!), so P and I decided it would be a good idea to get my cuts and my head checked out by someone who knows what they're doing. While we were at the clinic, they discovered a swollen ankle I hadn't even felt (now I do--thanks a lot, doc!). But my head is fine and my wounds are superficial--in all, I'm a very lucky guy.


Friday, July 21, 2006

yeah, i'm still here...

...what of it?

I must just have lost inspiration to write for a little while, just as I lost inspiration to ride for a bit, too. But now I'm back on the bike, and back on the blog, with another installment of...

...funny pregnancy dreams!

last night P dreamed that Floyd Landis was a banana. A peeled, faceless, talking banana. Who had in fact accomplished an amazing stage victory in the Tour de France to put himself back in contention for le maillot jaune. In fact, he was just like Floyd Landis, except he was a banana. Oh, and he owned a restaurant. Where P waited tables. Other than that, he was just like Floyd Landis. A talking, restaurant-owning, Tour-stage-winning, peeled banana-Floyd.

Then she dreamed that our baby was a banana, too--a little, squalling, banana that we held and cared for. In fact, other than the fact that she was a banana, she was just like a baby. Oh, and she talked--when I was holding her, she squalled out, "I want my mama!" And when I passed her to P, she squalled, "No! I want my daddy!" And when P went to pass her back to me, she squalled, "No! I want my parents!" So we both had to hold her at the same time, between us (presumably without squishing her little banananess). Other than that, she was just like a normal baby--a talking, squalling, faceless, peeled banana-baby.

Then she dreamed that she and I had a long conversation in which I insisted that the bananas in her dreams were phallic symbols, and P insisted that no, they weren't--sometimes a banana is just a banana.

Presumably, in this conversation, I was not a banana.

Oh, did I mention that P has been eating 2 or more bananas a day in an unsuccessful effort to fend off foot and calf cramps? Do I even need to?

(on a related note, we've decided that based on this picture, we're going to call the baby's "I'm concentrating on pooping" face "Floyd." As in, "honey, grab me a diaper, will you--we've got a Floyd!")

Monday, July 10, 2006

up close and in color

(courtesy of

Thursday, July 06, 2006

Northfield Crit Pix

Here's a few shots from Tuesday's crit--

lining up, making my parents proud with a funny face:

I thought this was the right wheel to follow...

a blur of, um--speed--yeah, that's it: speed!

There's a few more from the M 4/5 race at:

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Who's got time to blog?

What with the World Cup, Tour de No-dope (riiiight), beautifully sunny holidays, some bike races of my own, nesting, and sunsets near 10 pm?

In order, then: Allez France! I'm counting on Portugal to self-destruct later today, but even if they don't, Luis Figo is no Zidane.

TdF: Good stuff, although I imagine the chaos is hard on the riders. Everybody's on edge, teams that would've saved their efforts til later (T-Mobile, CSC) are attacking early and often, things aren't playing according to the "book," and it's making for an exciting race.

Yesterday was beautiful--the kind of summer day that makes you forget those dreary January days when it gets dark at 3:30 and your nose runs all day and your eyes water in the bitter wind and it's cold enough to freeze your tears and stick your eyes closed and you fumble with your keys because your fingers don't want to work when it's this cold out and you really just want to warm your toes and sip something hot ... okay, well, maybe it wasn't enough to make me forget, exactly, but you know what I mean.

The beautiful day yesterday was marred only by the fact that I raced, and not particularly well. Too agressive early, too passive late, missed the move at the top of the hill on the last lap, but by that time I think I'd stopped caring too much and just wanted to finish with both wheels under me. Might have had something to do with it being my last race as a 4, might have had something to do with a loosening headset making me a little cautious in the turns, might have had something to do with watching 4 or 5 very close calls that would have taken me out and then just losing my stomach for the whole thing, might have had something to do with just not feeling great. Whatever it might have been, it's over, and I guess we'll all have races like that. Pix to come.

The beautiful day yesterday was salvaged by hanging out with some fellow pedalers and others, sipping a beer or two and eating a burger in the late evening sunshine, and then watching the excellent Italy-Germany match.

Oops, I skipped nesting, but let's just say it's happening, and it continues to bring a smile to my face just thinking about why it's happening.