“"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once and a while, you could miss it.”

-Ferris Bueller

We all work so hard and manage our own versions of the three part teeter totter. It’s who we are and what we do. Week in and week out. Round and round…or up and down as the teeter totters. We…eat, work, contrive a smile, work, eat, am i getting a cold?, try to stay sane, be present with our kids and loved ones, work, stress, don't eat that cookie…OK just one, work, sleep, wake, eat…and so it goes all week thinking of the weekend ahead, the weather in the forecast and the venue that will allow us to release ourselves and purge the demons over barriers, up hills, on sweet trails and on great rubber.

But there has to be more. There is life beyond our self-centered universes. Right?

For each day you spend in this vicious cycle, a bit of distance grows between you and what is important. For me that is obviously my family and friends. How many times are you driving or on the bus and you have your cell phone in hand, see a name of your friend in your contacts list and don't hit ‘call’ to say hello. “Ahh, I’ll give him a buzz tomorrow.” And tomorrow turns to weeks. How often are you avoiding obligations that could ‘interfere with your legs-up time’ and before you know it, opportunities to connect with neighbors is wasted. It’s a tough balance.

This Thanksgiving week brought a lot of that to the surface for me personally. Our dearest family friends, the Balls, came into town to celebrate what is becoming our collective ‘tradition’. We all looked forward to this for weeks if not months. Joe is the one responsible for my ‘cross fixation having effectively taught me everything I know back when we lived in SF, pre-kids, careers just starting. So lots of talk of ‘cross would happen this Thanksgiving. Lots of beers downed. Lots of laughs had all the while our children getting to play together like cousins. But alas, we virtually ALL got sick with a vicious flu. Down like dominoes we went one by one. You could imagine how the moods would spiral into the darkness. I found myself going there fast. Bitter. Snapping at my boys. Patience completely lost. Bummed that I am going to finally go down the sickness path I’d been avoiding like a hypochondriac all season so I dare not miss a single one of my races. Digressing into a vinegar-filled little boy.

And then it hit me: Stu Thorne is not waiting with baited anticipation for the ‘right moment’ to call me and beg me to come race with TJ and JPows on his team with a large six figure contract and free Dugasts for life.

This…is…my…hobby.

Life happens people (and yes, I’m telling myself this too). My friends being in my house this Thanksgiving, spending priceless time together even while we’re all sick, was such a great reminder of ‘life’. Real honest to goodness life. Laughs still happening even while vomiting in syncopation because you’re in such proximity of your close ‘family' having such needed time together.

Relax. Try your best in everything you care about and do what you can to maintain happiness. Holding on too tight merely strangles the life out of anything good. I generally do this….but I have to remind myself (or get reminded) of my idiocy from time to time. It’s hard though, because I love it all so much.

So with that diatribe known above, the weekend had some great racing action and I needed to let things roll off my back. I was simply out of commission and I relaxed and simply…forgot about racing! While Friday was spent in bed almost the whole day, Saturday was spent resting and re-entering civilization. If I felt semi-alive Sunday, I’d go and race in Golden at the RVV race.

Sunday came and when my eyes cracked open while still in bed, I did one of those full ‘body scans’: Do I have that fever? Is my stomach still in knots? Do I have to rush to the toilet? Luckily, I felt fairly alive.

I made the drive down to Golden and figured I’d do a hot lap and then make a decision. The gut still sort of ached but the legs felt decent yet the course Clay Harris and the RVV crew created was too irresistible to pass up. Honestly, it was too fun to say no to. Thus the decision was made to stay and go and race in the blissful sun.

I won’t bore you with the blow by blow of my 35 A’s race. It was another top 10 (10th), fought hard for, with not enough power to stay with the chase group trying to nab Jon and Timmy, but enough power and flow to keep the wolves at bay trying to take me back. No complaints.

What I will spend time on though was the course:

Grass, sand, perfect grade climbs and fun rolling and flowy paths to put the hammer down on. They also injected a set of steep man made stairs to get your Belgie on which was super fun.

So, the ‘official’ season is almost done. CO States is this coming weekend. I’m feeling better and still excited to race…albeit with a reminder of what I am doing and why I do it. I pan across my group of racing compatriots…virtually every one of us…with more-than-full-time gigs, a gaggle of kids, tons of obligations…all of us balancing. And I smile. I can’t be the only knob stressing about these things, can I?

Nah. I’m not the only one who overlooks the obvious on occasion.

OK, maybe I do a little more…

Oh, and if you made it this far, here's a vide encapsulation of EXACTLY what I am talking about above.

The Ridley's have treated me unbelievably this seson.  A way better arrow than the Indian shooting it. The X-Night is a pretty sophisticated bike and is one of the new-generation frames featuring a carbon seat mast in favor over a seat post. This adds rigidity (especially in large frames like my 58cm) while reducing overall weight.

Out of the box, the X-Night's seat mast must be cut to the rider's appropriate height. The frame comes with a number of shims of various thicknesses as well to get very precise on the positioning. After cutting and getting my seat height dialed, my first couple of mounts and re-mounts demonstrated a noticeable "pop" emanating form the seat mast. A little concerning to say the least yet I couldn't diagnose the problem.

At Interbike, I had the privilege of meeting the Ridely bike crew from Belgium and their US counterparts from QBP and talked through my issue. Very quickly they walked me through the process and I wanted to share that with you as well, family of Ridley X-Night owners.

If you have a 'just-out-of-the-box' X-Night, ensure your shop has this set of instructions for ensuring proper cutting:

In my case, these were followed but even a super slight deviance from the required tolerance can result in the audible popping noise. Essentially, the issue results from the top of the mast not properly sitting in the 'bay' of the aluminum mast clamp. A remount will occasionally cause an ever so slight 'pull' from the top of the mast and yet another occasional mount will 'pop' it back into place...thus the audible noise.

The solution to eliminating the pop is a simple one however and comes direct from the Ridley engineering team and is practiced by both the Fidea and Sunweb Projob team mechanics on their rider's X-Nights in the Motherland.

First remove your seat mast clamp. Ensure you thoroughly clean the inside of the aluminum clamp and the contact area on the seat mast.

Next, use the recommended carbon/aluminum assembly paste which is Tacx (red compound). FSA and Ritchey also make what appear to be the same paste (and is probably all made in the same factory regardless...).Use an acid brush and coat the sides and top of the carbon.

Re-attach the seat mast clamp and tighten to the prescribed tolerances (inscribed on the seat mast clamp itself).

Voila you are done! I have not experienced the popping since I added the compound.

Everything you wanted to know about Prince...ahem...Albert.

This is a pretty cool video to see how cycling clothing is produced. Vermarc is a great sponsor of ours and I have a deeper appreciation for the kits when I take them out of the bag!

Check it..

Vermarc Sport - english version (with subtitles) from Vermarc Sport on Vimeo.

Whoa. You ever get to that point in a season where you are like: “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, get me done already!!” And when the season finishes you suddenly start longing for ‘do-overs’. I equate my cross seasons to be somewhat like finding yourself in a mosh pit at a hard core speed metal show for 5 months straight, getting the absolute snot kicked out of you by some dude’s black leather jack boots, then leaving the theater after the encore with a bloody nose, ears ringing, ribs bruised….but then suddenly longing for one more song. Just one more….

We’re nearing that point in the season where the smart ones are peaking and the passionate ones are flailing (me). Races are raced hard, yet the smart ones are resting infinitely harder. (Make mental note: must practice this…). So as we’re growing close to season’s end, there is still racing to do. This past weekend saw some great racing action in Colorado Springs and Golden. You could literally see the exhaustion on, in and around most racers yet the courses were delectably fun.

Colorado Springs- Pike’s Peak Cyclocross No. 2

(All pictures below thanks to Ultra Rob unless otherwise noted. See album here.)

Driving 2 hours to a ‘cross to do a 45 minute race is…well I guess you can consider it an obsession. Co Springs is quite a hike but the folks that put the race on are great and the course I like…even though it is the antithesis of a course I know I can excel on. Needless to say, it appeared that ALL of us from the Boulder/Denver area are obsessive as it was a good sized field that showed up to play. All the usual suspects were there for the call up and would make for another hard day of racing.

The course in the ‘Springs is classic Colorado. Lots of bumpy rhythm-less paths, a death climb….and now Colorado’s new feature for ’09: mud! Many of the corners were super greasy making the tempo a bit slower and the need for bike handling a must. I took a total gamble before the season started and opted for Tyhpoons as the last few years have been super dry and fast. This year, however, the moisture gods have opened up with 2X the amount of snow we get on average here in the Front Range. Couple that with radically swinging temps and you get mud fairly quickly.

I decided to chill out and save a few matches for Sunday so with the whistle to send us up the paved straight, I just sat in the front 5 or so. I felt OK the first few laps but by the end of lap one, it was clear that Jon C was on a tear and he was gone. The only one realistically who could (and did) cover that obscene display of kick-ass-ness was JJ who left us all behind to play cat and mouse with Jon. The rest of us would scramble for the scraps of top 10 positions.

As the laps wore on I could see the exhaustion settle in. Mistakes made, lines blown, power lost. I bridged to my good friend Michael R who has been on a tear this season and even he with his MTB skills found barriers to be ‘just that too much high’. All of us were losing that slight bit of concentration and the flow became choppy and for some, true squares were being pedaled. Nonetheless it was super fun to be railing (or sliding!) with your buds in and through these muddy S turns. The bike and the Typhoons (32 today) railed well. The tire pressure was dialed in perfectly and I found myself only un-hooking once unintentionally. Everything else seemed to grab well even in intentional controlled slides to get through some dicey corners. I came across the line conservatively in (drum roll….) 8^th with me gauging how hard to go to keep a late charging Robson and a resurgent Shawn Lortie at bay. No complaints, I rode well and kept to my plan to not blow my wad on day one as I wanted to go well at the Golden course the next day.

Golden-Green Mountain Sports ‘Cross

(All photos below by Dan Rieber unless otherwise noted. Buy some of his pics here!)

When the eyes opened on Sunday morning, I could feel the boogers in the nose, scratchiness in the throat and some swollen lymphs in the neck. It was a bit more pronounced than Saturday but not enough of a cold to keep me from ‘crossing. I dosed up on the secret cold serum and packed up the grocery getter with my equipment to make it down to Golden for the last race in the Green Mountain Sports series.

Golden is Boulder’s neighbor to the south and only takes 30 minutes or so to get there. When I pulled into the driveway of the venue, the car got immediately gunked with mud. It was incredible. Having raced this course before, I knew that it would be an absolute classic Belgian farm-field style race with essentially every square meter of course covered in mud…and so it would be!

When I left my house it was 30 degrees. By the time I hit the course for warm up it was 46 and rising fast. What were once trails frozen with snow were rapidly decelerating into a muddy mess. I love this course as it actually reminds me of the terrain in Belgium. If you added more trees it could be Baal. Not a lot of climbing and flowy undulations of the terra firma. Most similar however are the fields we ride on which are just like a prototypical Belgian farm fields. My warm up had me smiling given the fun factor but quickly I realized a) ‘wow, Typhoons are a pretty tough call on this course…’ and b) ‘holy crap, my bike in warm up is completely gunked with mud….and there’s no water source!’.

By race time we’re nearing 50 degrees so I embro’d up with Sportsbalm Hot (finding this to be pretty good having used Freddy’ Choice Extra for 2 seasons), grabbed my clean bike and lined up. They had us use a  start chute on this grassy infield that was still covered in snow. At the whistle, I failed to do what I usually remember to do….and that is to ensure the cleat you have on the ground is clear of mud or in this case snow to get in the pedals quickly. So upon the whistle, I proceed to slip my left foot once…then twice…the three times. IMMEDIATELY in the back 15 or so. I tried like hell to push through the mêlée and get to the top 5 but the bottle neck was incredible. Today was a day that should have suited my off the line style…and was an absolute need to get out front…and I failed! ARRGH!

The first lap was all a mad scramble to position. The chaos of people losing their shit in the lines was incredible. I was able to scoot up to about 10^th controlling my speed and trying to just stay smooth. The lines were unbelievably greasy and those that could flow would maintain their position. If you could do it from the get go, even better as the pack behind was a fumbling mess. By the end of lap one it was true attrition. Bikes were already a mess. The mud was thankfully not Colorado clay, it was wetter and soupier, but it was also filled with grass. I went two laps before I needed to dump off that A bike and grabbed my muddy B bike from my teammate John who was carefully watching us racing.

Photo by Linard CimermanisMy A bike was on 32 Typhoons and when I jumped on the B bike, I could feel the difference positively with my 34’s. The larger surface area hooked better. Unbelievably, the SRAM Red on that B bike was shifting like a champ. Even with a caked front mech, it still got up and down from the 46 to the 39 without problem. The rear was also perfect with a SRAM Force cassette on the back which ejected the mud well. I’d ride this bike for the rest of the race…even as it gained an additional 15 lbs in mud!

For the middle set of laps in the race, I was railing with my team mate Mark Wisner and David Overstreet. On specific sections, I was amazed at David’s traction with his Tufo Cubus. It was spectacular. I would be slipping and unhooking up these sextons where I’d literally watch his rear tire dig in. (I will be trying these next season…). With my heart rate pinned and my body not able to keep the wheels railing, I lost contact with that group. The rest of the race was pure attrition. I could feel yesterday’s ‘reserved’ effort tear me apart in closing laps. Robson was dangling in front of me as I worked to bridge to him while I gauged my intervals to keep a charging Clay Harris from catching me. I had zero idea where we were. Just that I knew I wanted this ‘fun ride’ to be over. We all came across the line and dudes…FIT dudes mind you…were sprawled out on the snowy grass absolutely positively spent. It looked like a MASH unit in a combat zone. It was…awesome. 13^th place. An anonymous 13^th place that was harder than any placing I think I’ve ever worked for…save maybe for my absolute-crap ass showing at Nats last year.

And we do this every weekend to ourselves?

3 hours to clean the bike…including taking all those cassettes off the bikes to clean every square inch of mud out. I am still in disbelief this shit shifts under those conditions!

We’re almost there. We’re almost at the close of the 2009 season. Colorado States is December 5^th and I am considering hanging up the sew-ups after that. No Bend for me this year. Just too busy with life and work…and the fact that Nat’s has historically been the bane of my existence. Even as a Cat 2 I’ll end up in row 200 trying to swim upstream all day. But alas, I’ll find myself at a Nats sometime again in the future…only after I go feel the energy of the different scenes around the country and report on ‘em. Hmm, where should I go next year?

VT4 covers the SP's live via streaming so even us U.S. mopes can enjoy. The Hamme Zogge Superprestige starts at 7AM MST (3PM in Za Motherland). Click here to watch and FaceBook message all your favorite friends in Belgium.

Oh and if you need to remember last year's H-Z...

Full report coming after I get out of this weekend but today's race in Colorado Springs was painful. Waking up heady didn't help either. 8th...again. It's getting comical.

Anyways, UltraRob caught some awesome photos from the day which I'll share in their entirely tomorrow. Here's a teaser of me looking way better than I'm feeling...

40. It’s just around the bend. That’s a lot of years. And yet I still have no idea what I will become. I think I am supposed to feel something different, but I am still wired to push. Am I alone?

The intensity that rages through my mind is unbearable…even to myself…on most days. But it is all I know. I want precision and order and serialized goals to be realized in the way that I envision they can.

Am I alone?

But alas, the smarter ones that I know exist out there have their secrets. Their secrets on how to cope or manage or maybe just completely blow things off just to stay sane. I’m not that person. Everything needs its due attention. Everything must be addressed. Or maybe I am just dumb and should follow their lead of apathy.

So I go often into Annette Bening mode: “I will sell this house today!”. I allow myself to head down that cheesy pop-psychological path and coax my ethos that I can do it all. That I can stay young and mentally razor sharp. That I can learn massive amounts of new material. That I can look at my children when I walk in the door mentally wasted from the day and not be a complete dick and be present for them. That I can look at my Amy with my same tired eyes and try to shoot laser beams of confidence out of them to her to convey that I will do us right and not fail. That I can continue to surface laughter out of her from me as we are co-dependant laughers when we get rolling together. That I can compartmentalize all of that and be able to focus on the weekends to do my best on my bike.

I will sell this house today. Am I alone?

What kind of crosser are you? Seriously. Think about it for a moment. Are you the type who thrives on the early season warmth? Tackling fast courses and using some of your road or mountain season form to go and wreak havoc? Or maybe you are the new generation crosser who is coming into the sport, learning your place in the pack, dialing in your race day rituals, equipment and comfort level on various courses. Or maybe, just maybe, you are the fanatic. Watching weather.com hourly…yet days in advance of the event…to observe the weather patterns and praying for the confluence of cloud, temp and precip to allow the heavens open up and drain what it will on the course. Ultimately leveling the playing field in favor of those with technical skills versus those that are genetically gifted yet ill-prepared to handle their bikes in the bad.

Hi. I’m Greg. I’m a fanatic.

I don’t know what it is but if the conditions foul, I relish. I’m not intending to sound all egotistical, but I sincerely feel better on challenging courses when weather adds its secret sauce: My tires feel great. My power seems even and consistent. It all just seems to work for me. I like zee sheet and zee piss-rain and zee mud.

Well we got the sheet and the mud but replace the piss-rain with snow. Epic conditions greeted the crossers…and DROVES of us…to Boulder Racing’s final in its series. We were all back once again at Xilinx, home to the last mud fest! I had a hold on 3rd place in the series and frankly wanted to reap some rewards for being “Mr. Consistent” this season. And that consistency would play its self out yet again Sunday. Ha! Or maybe I should say arrgh!

I’ll give the blow by blow for the Men’s 35 A event…and I’ll use some AWESOME photography from David Kutcipal of 303Cycling.com , the lens of Linard Cimermanis and video from Dale Riley’s Crossin’ Colorado blog. Thanks you guys!!

The 35A’s have the ‘pleasure’ this season of lining up super early. Don't know why this is as for years we raced at 11:30-ish. Now this season we’re leaving at 0-dark:30 to make our 9:45 race time on most weekends. So, with these early start times, the course conditions radically change from AM to PM when the weather is foul. We faced ice, fresh powder and mud…not the pure mud the later races would face. Technical nonetheless.

The crew lined up after call ups and the ACA official sent us on our way. My plan today was to take it easy, save matches and burn slowly into the race. That means not blowing wads on the hole shot like I am just soooooo awesome at.

True to my plan I burn into the start chute up the pavement climb evenly and conservatively. I settle in behind Hogan who I am comfortable with and know how smooth he is to stay out of trouble. Up this 1/4 mile pavement drag, there was tons of melting ice and snow creating a pretty scary situation. Limited visibility due to spray and the fact that a bunch of dudes whom I don’t know and are not familiar with their racing styles were taking chances to get into position before we all converged into this narrow chute into the course proper were sketching me out. So, I had to make a move to stay safe. I jammed it on the outside and railed into the single track first …

Safely in the woods and clear of any disasters I was able to set my own pace. Set my own tempo. Set my own lines. And I felt absolutely great. I carved out the players early on. Ross, Robson and I meandered the course and railed as a three person train and took no chances. Essentially allowing ourselves to learn the course and the lines while pushing a good pace evenly.

By lap 2 and 3 our group got a bit larger. Dennis, Ward, Brian an Mr. Hogan bridged so we had a group driving a great pace. The course was starting to flow and all of us were literally smiling. It was less race, more like a rad group ride with great friends pushing hard but having fun. Honestly, none of us felt like we were racing but our lap times were telling another story!

By the lap 3, Ross had punched to create a gap that no one was bringing back. His skills and his Niner 29’er (Cheater, Ross! HA! Kidding…) helped hgim create a gap that could be maintained by teh type of rider he is: Smooth consistent and technical. By this point I am still grooving until the unthinkable! I throw a chain over the outside ring on the back side of the course. As is customary these days, I lose my obligatory ‘5’ spots. The racing is simply that tight and you can NOT make a single mistake. Unless you have the motor to overcome other huge motors, you simply have to stay smooth and problem free. Bummer but I had to get off and re-assemble the mess.

Dubba was manning the pits for me (and I would for he and Pete later in the day) and I dumped of that bike, clogged with ice and muck that caused the derailieur drama. Before the start, Dubba and I could not source De-Icer yet while racing, he was able to get it and load my back up bike with the goodness. It proved effective to keep the drive train clear.

So with the train of dudes now clear of me given my mis-hap and my bike change (as quick as it was), I had my work to do. I drilled it to bridge to my teamie Brian who was gapped by the chasing group going after Ross. B and I would try to push to the next group. The unfortunate part was that we were running out of laps!We wren't going to get on.

Bri and I dove in and out of the single track, in and out of the snow and mud. It was super fast and fun! By the closing of the bell lap, he and I popped out on the pavement together towards the finish and he had a 10 meter gap. Even as team mates, we have to sprint for it! You all know what I’m sayin’! I dropped it into the 46 x 12 and bridged, threw, and B had the distance by a tire to take 7th. Me 8th….again! Ha! Seems to be my number this year.

Good news is that I raced consistently enough over the course of the 4 race series to take 3rd overall…de laatste podium plaats. $100 bucks and socks! Giddy up! So all is not lost, sports fans.

So all-in-all what a great day of racing. Fanatical racers out in the sheet and piss-muck with smiles all over the place. And on the horizon, the state championships are looming. Damn! I think I need to start training. Hup?

OK, I almost can't take it any more...having seen this video over the weekend in all it's HD glory after the Snob posted it. Perhaps 'cross is going mainstream, but honestly I'd rather hang out with a bunch of daddy's making their eyeballs bleed weekend in and out in the mud than a bunch of posing hacks smoking butts and wearing tight ass jeans.

And then I saw this. And it made me smile.