2011 bike rap.

In the lead up to the last few races of my 2011 cyclocross season, I had reminded myself a few goals that had eluded me thus far: a top 10 finish and a complete, non-lapped UCI race, oh yeah and to keep smiling and enjoying this thing called the bike well into the dark cold days of December.

Thus far the fall into winter transition proved quite dry for the Front Range of Colorado, but that all changed in great fashion the first weekend of December, as temps dropped and an upslope storm dumped 8 inches of heavy snow across the region just in time for the Louisville race.  Aptly named the Dustbowl, or Bowl of Death, for the terrain and typical CO conditions (dry, fast and dusty), race conditions got flipped upside down and we were treated to a serious case of hardman's cross.  Upon getting to the venue to go through the normal pacings, I caught a jumping with joy Greg Keller cheering on the women's open racers. I'm all for racing in epic conditions, and it even caters to my strengths coming from the mountain bike and years of grinding away in the cold of an open air hockey rink in the dead of winter, but it does take a serious leveling of focus. Aided most effectively by embrocation too.

The race itself was total chaos from the gun, with some guys choosing to run at the start for the singular track that had just barely been burned in from previous races. I found myself at the front and managed to hold on for dear life, bombing and swaying through the snow, muck and mud, keeping each action as smooth as possible to counter the reaction overly emphasized by the conditions. A viciously long run up and through section caused by the freeze, melt mud really pushed my limits, but through the 60 minutes found a way to take 8th on what ended up being an incredibly fun and extremely rewarding race. Shower beer of joy.

The following weekend I took my first (air) travel trip to a bike race, packing the bike in a borrowed case bound for Bend, OR, with my two good friends Scott and Allen.  Having never visited the eastern Oregon mountains and the town of Bend itself, I figured the last round of the USGPcx was a great excuse to make the trip out, and I was able to line up some work meetings in Portland and even got to visit with some old friends. After spinning out the legs on an urban assault tour of downtown Portland and along the gorgeous Willamette river, I picked up the boys in a tricked out minivan and drove West, through the temperate rain forest, over the shoulder of Mt. Hood and into the high and dry desert to Bend.  Allen hooked us up with an amazing host family right in town and on the infamous Mirror Pond (one of my most favorite of beers) and suddenly it was race day.

Back to back days I pulled nearly the, and then actually the, last start number, not like I needed the extra challenge of chipping away through a field of 60 guys. But I had great legs, a positive mind and my boys with me to talk shop, and ended up racing super hard and having my best results of any UCI race weekend to date.  All the training and preparation paid off with a peak performance and overall incredible experience racing with the nation's best. After getting taken out on the first lap of day 1, I managed to claw back to a 34th finish and the following day, taking no prisoners and in a rare 'totally emptied the tank' moment, took 27th on day 2, passing some seriously fast guys in the final few laps and finishing my first race with the leaders. The course in Bend was tremendous, well designed and to many dismay, quite similar in conditions to a Colorado race due to the lack of rain, but suited me just fine.  The crowds and weather made for a great racing environment and Bend now has a supremely special place in my heart. The weekend was capped with the end-of-series party at a local bar, which while it started slow, suddenly mach'ed into a full fledged sweaty dance party with the pro-ho's cutting seriously loose, powered by shots of cinnamon whiskey and bad dj'ing.  Props to Kabush for his moves, Nicole for her sultry samba and my condolences to Driscoll for his - good thing he's fast on two wheels.

I'd hoped to ride the emotional and physical high from Bend straight into Colorado States, but it wasn't meant to be. While racing is a lot about training, maintenance, and perseverance, it's also guided by the principles of luck. And at some point it runs out. I'd had a great 'bout of luck through the entire mountain season and into cross, but it caught me over the Boulder Cup weekend, rolling a tubular, breaking a spoke on the spare wheel then flatting on the backup's backup wheel during the race. I'd regained composure though through the month of November and found gear, form and performance hitting its stride through the Bend weekend, but that all came to a hault on the last day it mattered.

I'd had a good start to the race and was working my way through the top 10 into the first few laps, but something inside didn't want to make the pedals keep turning. I thought of Jens, nothing. I thought of all the work I'd put in to finish strong, that gave me another lap, then nothing. Lost a few places. I was going through the motions but not racing. I thought of friends in the muddy sidelines cheering, screaming and wonderfully heckling me on, yeah, that'll work for a bit, then psssssssst POP. The stars aligned just ever so right and I was done, slashed a sidewall on my rear tire, just on the wrong side of the pits, effectively ending my race for a good finish. Lady luck was out of the building.

But where some give up, I have to say I'm proud of myself for digging deep, shouldering the bike and running 1/2 the course back to the pits to grab a wheel and continuing on. The entire season, thousands of miles and hours, of trips with friends to far away places, to lunch time rides between meetings flashed across my mind as I hobbled my way through the course - did I mention I hate running? As I continued, my cadence increased and I started full on running, thinking further back to years spent on the rink with my Dad in the stands and what we as a family attributed to be the greatest impact my commitment to hockey gave me: dedication, desire, discipline, the 3 D's of hockey - converted into my current perspective, passion and outlook - have shaped my whole existence to what I do and how I do it. Appreciation.  Wonderment for the connections through life.

I crossed the star/finish, Larry G. announced my misfortune to the crowd, the shoulders shrugged and I continued into the pits. Keller, god bless this man of cross, competition, and kinship, with a shop apron adorning a mud suit, orange construction gloves and perfectly clean Oakley's yells to me "where's your pit bike!?!?" I shout over, "yeah like I have one..." Without hesitation someone finds my extra wheel and the guys go to work swapping out the flat for a freshie, grateful, and off I went to finish in the best way I could what has been a tremendous year.

What a year.  36 races, amazing trips, new friends, exceptional growth, incredible fun. A big W started the season out in Fruita, an upgrade to Pro capped the mountain bike season and 3 months of non-stop cross, community and camaraderie kept the fires stoked late late into my best, and most fun year yet.  Thanks to my team RockyMounts~IZZE and our other sponsors, thanks to my friends, work for trusting me to deliver, and our cycling community here in Colorado and beyond. Training and planning for 2012 is off and running, here's to another wonderful year.