The weather, and being under it.

A holiday weekend.  Lovely weather.  Roads begging to be ridden.  A shortage of Pepto Bismol.

The High Point City Crits made their inaugural run in, uh, High Point this weekend.  Coach and I helped out by providing a First Aid station to the unfortunate racers who decided to dance a little too closely with the asphalt.  Really, Coach did 99% of it and I just sat around watching or making sure the beer garden was fully operational. 

Unfortunately, I woke up Saturday morning with a very nauseous stomach and that 'feeling' you get when a virus is coming on:  achy muscles, headache, a chill here and there.  I decided to send Coach on to HP without me, planning to join her later.  This was hard to do, as there was quite a bit of set-up to be done:  a tent, table, chairs, and bags of medical supplies.  But, my body demanded some rest and after half a Phenergan, I drifted off...

Around 4pm I got the call that Amy and Bus were heading down to the race, so I summoned my consciousness and rose from the bed.  Riding down to HP was a blur, and I really didn't feel so good upon arrival.  I tried to sit still, walk around, sit again, but the nausea just came in waves.  It was one of those situations where one wishes IT would just happen, then all would be well. 

I almost got my chance at IT, as a wave of nausea greater than all those previous arrived at my esophagus.  I am fairly sure this followed Mitch's comment about 'waffles' as I was ok 'till then.   Like a wounded beast, I decided to wander off in hopes of finding a gentle creek by which I could simply fall over and die.  Relief was not to be mine, as the semi-heaves left all poisons within.  I did a few laps of the crit course on foot with skin a lighter shade of green. 

Soon after, chills began in earnest.  By the time we packed up the truck and got on the road to W-S, I was trying to run the heat, while Coach was rolling down her window.  Uh oh.  At home, we confirmed my fever:  101.2F.  It was going to be a long night. 

Today, I feel 50% better and have actually eaten a bit.  By my count, I've managed around 1200 calories in two days, with at least 900 of those calories today.  I'm glad to be feeling better, but this is worrisome for racing next weekend as it takes me a bit to store up carbs for a race.  Not to mention that I haven't ridden since last Wednesday.

What will happen?  Not sure, but as of now I plan to pin the number on next Saturday and stomp it.

Jomeokee calls.

Jomeokee is the ancient Native American name for Pilot Mountain.  It means "great guide" or with a little imagination "pilot."  Barry and I, blessed with jobs that occasionally offer an early afternoon escape, met at his house for a quick jaunt to the Great Guide and back. 

As he says in his blog, we felt like the south ends of northbound bulls on the way out.  Finally, after starting up Pilot, we felt a bit better.  I was reminded at times of my winter training rides for the Battenkill.  We had a steady wind out of the north today, so it hounded us most of the way out while providing a bit of help on the way home.  Always good to know which way mutha nature is aiming her favor when on the bike.

After cresting the climb, we enojyed a terrific view of the NC piedmont.  Stellar, really.  A shame that we had to go, but we still had to get home - which is always interesting after a climb up the Great Guide.

It wasn't as bad as we thought, and the wind was favorable.  Arriving back at his house, we agreed that a Wednesday night ride that takes in Pilot Mtn. is a good ride, no matter how we felt.

Next up:  I'm heading down to High Point to work the medical tent for the crits this weekend. Come on down and race a sweet course if you need a crit fix!

A few photos:

heading to the state park.  my nemesis in the background.

sweaty.  not sexy but it's part of the game.

out of the saddle and in my granny gear.  oh well!

Misty Mountains

A few pics from today's EXCELLENT ride in the Blue Ridge Mtns.  Sirena, Lori, Chancey, Barry and I did an out-and-back from Cumberland Knob to Doughton Park and back.  About 46 miles and good hills.  The low clouds, fog and rain really made the ride feel intimate.  This also helped keep the cars away and often times we were to be found 2 and 3 abreast with no cars for many minutes. 

Climbing to Doughton Park

Trying to get some rhythm going

Barry, focused.

We can't wait to do this again.  Perhaps a ride from Boone to Asheville later in the summer?  Gotta get my hill climbin' legs back...

hills, then mountains.

Image:  Unpleasant...post-sprint up the famous Powerline Hill just outside Lewisville, NC yesterday.  I love that one, but Mitch was not so kind as to give any respite, so I had to hammer the whole way.  I thank thee, Mitch.

Tomorrow, a small group of us is heading to the Blue Ridge Parkway for a 50ish mile ride.  I've never ridden the BRP with a crew before, so I'm anticipating a great time.

the mountains win again.

In a nutshell, the tour du life road race caught me by surprise. I know the ups and downs of the blue ridge mtns pretty well, but I'd never really raced among them.

Barry was facing the daunting Cat 5 field, while Mitch and I lined up with the Cat 4s. As mentioned on the CLM blog, we had some stiff competition. The action started quickly as a team of zebra-looking chaps assembled at the front in arrears of Mr. Boone-Roubaix winner. The parade of pain might as well have been a funeral procession for the CLM as first Mitch went backwards shortly followed by yours truly. I managed to pass two guys on the next ascent then catch two more on the long flat before Rush Branch.

On Rush Branch, I had to say goodbye to my two compatriots (thanks for the pulls, Zeb) as they climbed away from me. In the last 12 miles, it felt as if gravity had doubled. I crept up the climbs at caterpillar speeds and at length, cramps crept in.

I was passed by three guys from the race behind me in the last 5 miles, and nearly by a guy in my own field, but thankfully he faded (with my cramps) on the last climb.

12th place in the hardest road race I've done. Needless to say, I've got some work to do in the Mountain dept. Once I get my right hamstring back to reasonable functioning, I plan to do so. Perhaps a weekend ride in the mtns? I bet I can drag some CLMers with me (most are feeling animosity towards gravity at the moment).

Ok, so I just re-read this post and agree (as you're likely thinking right now) that it is boring. Don't fear, more posts of an irresistible and profound nature coming soon.

Back to the hills...

There's an omnium in Boone, NC this weekend and somehow I've been talked into doing it.  Ok, I really wanted to get back into a race after falling off the horse after Battenkill.  I didn't literally fall, just stopped training, started drinking more beer and eating fast food.  Yum.  The group rides have been fun, but I can tell that I'm easily 10% off my form from the beginning of April. 

That said, this will be fun no matter how badly I get shelled.  My CLM homie Mitch will be racing too, so plans will be to stick together and survive.  Even better, Coach and I plan to head home after the race and hit the Greek festival either that night or Sunday...again:  Yum. 

Pictures to follow on Saturday!

My Weekend

In a nutshell, since it is late and I should be in bed: 

Drove to Athens, GA late Friday night.  Crashed at hotel.  Got up early Saturday morning and practiced with the band.  Had lunch.  Went to Tasty World (a club downtown) for load in and soundcheck.  Got a slice of pizza, then played a set with the fellas (see above pic).   That rocked.  Then went one block up to watch Team Mountain Khakis race Twilight.  Unfortunately, they didn't make the break and had to chase for like, a zillion laps.  On the last lap, with 6 guys away, the field sprint was marred by a few crashes including one that took out our buddy Mark.  He's ok, but road rash ain't fun, no matter how little there is.  Had pizza with The Legend.  That was something.  Went to bed about 2am.  Got up Sunday morning, got a mocha from Jittery Joe's and hit the road back home.

Back in W-S now, and I'm considering the slim chance of becoming a full-time rock star versus the security of my current career path.  Do we really just get one shot at this life?