Here you go kids. Some nice leg burners to boot…

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Joe, Robbie, Dan, Troy and I on a shred-fest on a perfectly tacky day at Tamarancho in Marin County. To say it was delicious is an understatement. Buff singletrack. Redwoods. Dear friends. Bliss.

Thanksgiving Ride, Tamarancho - Marin CA from Gregory Keller on Vimeo.

Music by Shiner. And sorry for the camera work again pointing at my front wheel. I think you’ll get the point though.

This is a story about the ebb and flow of life. This is more importantly a story of the main protagonist understanding that life itself ebbs and flows. Those reading this fairly predictable ‘page turner’ are willing the protagonist to desperately understand this as he fumbles about in his own existence…willing him to learn that life itself is designed to do ebb and flow so that the most open-minded in the universe can feel this and learn from the constant peaks and valleys. Life with a constant progression…even a positive one…is a boring existence. It is a meal with no flavor. A song with no de-crescendo. A race with no drama. Anyone can see that. And so, I need reminders of this as the story will tell. 

Saturday – Alpha Cross, Arapahoe Park

Pulling myself out of the mental dumps from having an accident has been challenging. I will not lie. The reality is, I put so much mental capital into the sport that I love, it’s often hard to withdraw some of that precious capital when it needs to be channeled….and rightly channeled…to more important places in my life. Saturday’s race in Centennial at Alpha Cross and my ridiculousness that followed would be a prime example of this.

Pinning the number on in the cold morning air I was feeling motivated. Everything felt perfect. The equipment was dialed and my pre-ride of the course found my legs seemingly feeling pretty good, even if I knew the course would be pretty difficult for me. It combined long straight grass slogs with some technical off camber sections. I predicted a yo-yo kind of day and good for training…but my yo-yo unraveled and found me all caught up in my own personal string.

The first lap saw me go from my 3rd row call up to top 5. I was happy and the picture I had in my head was to sit in and just re-coup some points. My teammate Brian and I worked super well together for laps 1 and 2 and my flow through the off camber was pretty dialed. I ran Typhoons at super low front and normal in the back as I needed to hook up on the hillside which was becoming greasy but needed the stiffer rear to push hard on the long slogs. And then…it just came undone.

By lap 3 I am gapped. Hogan bridged and yelled at me to stay with him but couldn’t. This happened again and again and again. Literally my dear buds…fellow racers!…would say to me as they bridge to me: Keller, c’mon man, just dig in and stay on. But…nothing. I simply shut down. I pedaled in circles. I found my mind drifting to anything but the race I was in. I even thought I felt a cavity in my teeth my mind wandered so much. I will never pull out of a race unless I am bleeding or a bone is protruding where it shouldn’t…yet I came extremely close yesterday. I rolled in for 20th. My teammate Tim Faia crushing it for the win. The bitterness in my performance began almost as soon as I rolled over the finish tape.

After any race, all the boys always hang out, talk, revel in the funny occurrences of the race and then we all hi-five, pack and leave. I don't think I’ve ever left a venue faster. I simply don't know who I think I am…but these are my FRIENDS! I just packed and jet from the scene…and sulked. The hour-long drive home had me worked up into a lather. Coming home I was ‘angry dad’. Not saying much even while my boys…who haven’t seen me all day mind you…simply wanted to play. They don’t care if I win, or flat, or come in last. They just want to play with their dad.

My selfishness was at it’s peak. My youngest, Seamus, would refuse to give up on me…trying to get me to play. To engage with him. Aiden had long since recognized his dad was being a dolt since coming home from the race and decided to just put a big distance between himself and me. Seamus hasn’t learned these nuances yet in character (or the lack of it). He kept approaching me…

“Dad, look what I found in the closet! It’s a model of the Wright Brothers plane! Let’s build it!”

And I’d say ‘no, not now, Seamus.’

Seamus needed me. He wanted his daddy to do this with him. to spend time with him. And so he pursued. And pursued. And pursued. 

“NO SEAMUS! NOT NOW!! Put it away!!”

I actually had the audacity to raise my voice to him. My own absolute pettiness injected itself right into everything that is dear to me…took control of me…spewed out of me.

Seamus proceeds to open up the box and says: “But daddy, your daddy wanted us to build this.”

And my world stopped.

Seamus hands me a card that was inside the model box…which was sent to me ages ago for me to build with my boys. It’s what he and I used to do together. My dad’s own handwriting on the card saying “…keep the faith. Love Dad.”

At that moment it was as if this amazing force ripped through me…enlightening me. What is WRONG with me? Why do I take this all so seriously? I kissed Seamus and apologized and just sat with him. Explaining everything…well, everything that a 6 year old needs to understand…in a way that he knows I was being a poor loser and not a good sportsman…and by extension not a very good friend, father and husband.

This helped us all considerably. There would be tomorrow. There would be another sunrise and yet another chance to be a sportsman, a friend and most importantly a daddy and husband.

Sunday – Cyclo-X, Union Reservoir

I spent that night in bed restless. Happier, yet still restless from being the antithesis of who I was less than 24 hours earlier. Waking up I felt lighter however. More grounded. More focused on going back out, pinning on a number and simply being with my FRIENDS. The venue was totally new to all of us. A pancake flat venue which featured sand, barriers and a BMX pump track! It was as if some hobbits made this course for me personally…knowing I needed to rip and combine elements I am good at.

Leaving Boulder for the venue it was 47 degrees. By race time it had dropped to below 30! People were complaining but for some reason I was warm and content. Some of this was due to the Northwest Knee Warmers embrocation, but mostly was that I felt the need to absolutely uncork one.

From the whistle I shot off like a bullet. I took the hole shot and just pushed. Michael Robson and Mike Hogan staying with me. During warm up I had taken the sand section in a way that I thought I’d run it. Coming into the beach in the lead, I did my 'practiced thing’…dismounted and ran yet I watched Robson and Hogan take a line that I NEVER would have seen. They gapped me and from then on, I re-traced their line riding every lap as it was WAY faster.

I ripped in 3rd place for most of the race feeling fantastic. Smiling even. Coach Frank yelling his guts out at me. By the closing laps, Mark Wisner and Ward Baker bridge to me. We are all three flowing awesomely. I had a bobble in a section and Ward could see this. What does he do? Not take advantage but pulls up next to me, leans into my face and YELLS at me “You are not going to get gapped! This is your race!” He pushes me so hard from behind it was like a rocket pack lighting up.

This is how we do it in Boulder. This is the quality of the men who pin up every week motivating each other.

In the bell lap Ward is now in 3rd, Wisner 4th and and I am right behind him in 5th. We come flying into the beach section one last time. I totally buy it in the sand, get up and again fight back from the gap. Baker is now on a tear at about 5 seconds ahead. Wisner comes in super hot into a critical section and burps a tubeless while an amazingly strong JP Boylan bridges to us both. Mark puts in a hard effort and JP attacks and I follow…we come blasting into the last few sections of the course and James gets a tiny gap and is able to hold it for 4th, me 5th and the Wis, 6th. Robson wins with a smooth Hogan 2nd and of course the amazing Ward Baker 3rd.

I feel redeemed. I helped make a race. I put in efforts I knew I had in me. I let my body just do its thing.

On the drive home I thought about the weekend and all the themes I experienced woven through it. I kept gravitating to this meme…

Give and receive. Not give and take. The selfishness that can consume us all is dangerous. It can erode amazing relationships you have in your life…even the most sacred of them: your family. I do this for fun. For the love. For what it gives me. I give so that I may…give. Not as a pre-requisite to receive. I receive as it is quid pro quo between amazing people who feel generally lucky in life to be able to do this. The receipt is the byproduct and being ‘open’ to life. Truly understanding what makes us beautiful…and what makes us ugly.

Do not give to receive. Give to give even when you need to dig deep to find the strength to suck up your own personal drama and be positive. At the end of it all, no one really cares. Your drama is precisely that: yours. It is not any greater than anyone else’s…which we all face in this life.

Cyclists are so unbelievably particular when it comes to their nutrition. We all follow this same learning curve as we evolve from first time racers, to amateurs, to mid category to elites. The journey has us all learn the value of nutrition…from our first ‘bonk’ experience and the need to properly fuel during rides to advanced rituals we all have dialed for pre-race meals to ensure we perform our best.

There are a wide variety of choices out there for supplementing your nutrition alongside the clean, pure food I know you are (you better!) be eating. But when I saw these interesting little bars show up at bike stores, coffee shops and grocery markets here in Boulder, I was intrigued. Intrigued enough that I bought one as an impulse…then found myself just sweeping whole stacks of them into my shopping cart as I’d found a bar that FINALLY didn’t cause my stomach to do backflips and simply tasted great. When I flipped the wrapper over and found they were from Boulder, I had to learn more! Thus my inquisition of Ms. Breeze Brown, owner of her namesake, Breeze Bars, began. Registered Dietician, a masters in nutrition, ‘crosser, triathlete and all around ‘athlete evangelist.’ You want to be eating the stuff that’s truly got love for those who suffer baked in. And so, here’s your chance to learn more about Breeze, her company and the yumminess she’s created…

M&C – OK, Breeze, let’s begin! Tell me how Breeze Bars came to life?

Breeze - I was doing some nutrition consulting for a pro triathlon team here in Boulder and they needed some new food options to experiment with. Specific they were looking for something that would give them quick as well as sustainable energy and wouldn’t upset or sit heavy in their stomachs. Around that same time my sister was diagnosed with celiac disease so when I started experimenting I made sure they were gluten free from the start. I came up with a bar that tasted great and had the nutritional value to support extended exertion. Not long after I started making the bars for the team and my sister a café manager at one of the health clubs got a hold of one of the bars and asked to sell them at the club. It was at this point that I moved my venture to an approved kitchen and turned it into a small business.

M&C - There are a lot of nutritional choices for athletes these days. What are the core values that set Breeze apart from the other products on the shelf?

Breeze - The key with Breeze Bars is that they are not a high protein bar nor are they a high carbohydrate bar they are carefully balanced. They have enough carbohydrate and quick energy to help with a bonk or administer an immediate pick me up but also enough protein and quality fat to allow for a sustainable energy. Oh, and they taste really good!

M&C - Tell me a bit about how these bars in particular are well suited to folks with digestion issues...Celiac disease in particular.

Breeze - First off, the combination of carbohydrate: Protein: Fat makes the bar easy to digest and easy on the stomach. For those people with wheat or gluten intolerances and those with celiac disease these bars are essential! They provide great energy without the risk of stomach upset, bloating or nausea.

M&C - Tell us about the "product pipeline". By now you've got rabid fans (me included!) on your bars. What else can your devoted 'consumers' look forward to in the coming months?

Breeze - Well, I am not going to put solid dates on anything but we hope to have some new bar flavors out this spring. I am working on a few specialty products as we speak and for those of you who are allergic to nuts and soy we have something new for you also!

M&C - You are an athlete. What are the sports you participate in and how do you apply what you know about sport and physiology into your products to ensure the best nutritional advantage for those consuming it before, during or after events.

Breeze - I race triathlon as an amateur, cyclocross and throw some road races in there every now and then. I know how difficult it can be to get in the proper nutrition while training or during a race, but it is a critical piece that can directly affect your performance. I can create a product that in theory will work to provide energy, aid in recovery and assist with training but it really comes down to how it works for the athlete/ individual who chooses to use the product. This is where our sponsored athletes come in! You need people who are willing and able to use the product and give you quality feedback and ideas on how to improve. Thanks to all of you who have done this and continue to help us in our venture!

Breeze getting her hup on – Photo by Grant Holicky

M&C - 'Extra Credit': OK, Sven Nys or Bart Wellens...choose!

Breeze - Sven Nys!!

Here’s how to learn where to get your own supply of these little delectable sumpin’-sumpins’:

Online Store

Store Locator

Here’s  a great guide put together by the Visit Bend folks for the festivities coming up faster than we think!

We’re just starting to see some foul weather here in the Front Range. Cleaning bikes since the season’s onset essentially amounted to a dust rag. Absolutely no precipitation to speak of. Now, we’re getting the winter we’ve been wanting and have had our first weekend of true ‘cross weather.

Over the years of using Dugasts, I’ve tried everything on these tires to protect their cotton sidewalls. I’ve spoken about ‘Dugast Rot’ and how some tires of not properly sealed will essentially start to literally mold and rot.

This year as mentioned previously, I started to try new sealants on various recommendations from folks….especially some dear friends in Belgium. Many roads led to me trying out McNett Tent Sure (note the product has new packaging). When applied, the sealant literally permeates the cotton itself, unlike AquaSeal which provides a layer ‘above’ the cotton. This known, it should probably be known to use anything but black brake pads when using McNett as the ‘black dust’ which comes off the pads…especially when mixed with water and mud…will still penetrate and stain your pretty cotton casings. Try yellow SwissStops or something more ‘gummy’ if possible.

I will report on the progress of the McNett sealant in the coming weeks and let you know how it turns out!

You ever leave a concert hall in the wee hours of the morning and your head is hurting and your ears are ringing? That is precisely how I felt after this amazing weekend of racing, color-commentary announcing and general cross-nerding with our community.

For the past few months, Colorado has been a true desert…hot and dusty races with your skin suit unzipped and your mouth as dry as a cotton ball. The racing has been fast, but we all were lusting true ‘cross weather and so it came and greeted us in Fort Collins at the New Belgium Cup, the most recent stop of the USGP series.

Day 1

Let the truth be told: I was as nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. It was my first race back after crashing 3 weeks ago and the conditions…while SUPER fun, muddy and crossy…still had me in a mental bind. I did not want to get caught in a pile up, and I did not want to hit the deck on my own accord. Pre-riding the course it was obvious that if you did not flow on the courses super fast descents or rail the off camber corners coming out of them, it could be your demise. So I made it a goal to just ride the course and stay out of trouble and get back to racing again locally to ‘be in it’ so to speak so I can continue to work for a good showing later in the season.

The weather was super cold as we waited in the grid, a group of roughly 75 racers from Colorado and many of the Nation’s best Masters from around the country. We all focused down the start/finish pavement section for the signal from the UC official’s start gun. POP! We all got underway cleanly nearly instantaneously into mud off of the pavement. I settled in mid pack and that is where I’d stay for the day. Keeping people away from me and attempting to keep myself out of trouble!

My compatriots, Ward Baker, Pete Webber, Jon Cariveau (coming back from a super scary injury in the beginning of the season) and Michael Robson would have banner days…They pushed the pace hard from the get go….with Pete Webber coming from nearly the back to the front by the end of lap one. For the next two days he would put on a clinic of bike handling and flow…combined with a level of fitness that no one would even come close to matching. My race was one being fought ‘in the middle’. For roughly 3 of the 5 laps, I was happy to race with a hero of mine, Ned Overend. Everyone on the sidelines was going nuts for us and even

Ned when we traded turns would yell at me ‘Come ‘on! Hup!”. The guy is gold. It was super rad and watching him flow was great…made me realize that my lines weren’t all that bad either!

Brandon and Josh were faithfully working the pits. I was happy to have three bikes to play with…one that was in there as an ‘emergency.’ so to speak…with Typhoons on and was truly only a ‘break glass if necessary’ situation. The other bikes had Rhinos and hooked up SO WELL it was crazy. It was like cheating. Coming into the pits later in the race there was some confusion and I was handed that Typhoon-laden bike. Talk about hilarity in motion…even with pressures in the 20’s, the bike was like a deer on ice. I had no game! I was laughing my way around the course…and running many sections I’d ride with the Rhinos as the rubber simply would not…COULD not…hook up. Honestly, no excuses, stronger dudes with ONE bike showed more grace than I but the point being it was amazing to me the difference between the tread patterns in these conditions.

I made my way around the course taking my time and re-learning how to feel blood in my lungs again…and it was good. Coming across the line I was happy to be back in the game again…even if the game was MINUTES ahead compliments of Mr. Webber. I took a ‘meh’ 24th but I survived and was truly happy. The people around the tape shouting for me I want to say THANK YOU and much love. It was humbling and motivating all at the same time.

Day 2

I awoke to the sound of the alarm at 6:30. I was sore…but a good sore. I had a massive task in front of me: Get these bikes in SOME sort of racing condition! They were shattered from the prior day’s racing…with mud and grass still embedded in places that I did not know mud could enter! Two hours of cleaning, scrubbing, polishing and lubing later…I packed up and headed north again for the second day of racing.

Day 2 would be a sort of carbon copy of Day 1 for me…even though I was actually going to ‘attempt’ to race and suffer a bit more. Moreover it would be a carbon copy for the leaders with Pete Webber again demonstrating a cannibalistic tendency to eat Master’s racers alive. No one, not a single racer, could match his flow. It was an impressive display of athleticism.

Photo by Dave Weber

The course on day 2 was a bit modified….adding in some new features like a stair case run up which many of the pros would ride to our astonishment. My race was super interesting. I suffered more than I thought I would but I felt like I railed better. Most of my day was spent racing with a well known Master competitor, Richard Feldman. He was having an obviously tough day in the mud and I tried to simply stay as clear as I could so I could race my own race, but there we were locked in virtually the same rhythm until a gap opened up that I could cover on the last lap. I ended up virtually the same as the day before…26th…having again raced my own race once I realized that I wasn’t going to be able to truly be anywhere near the true action.

Racing aside, I was able to have a boatload of fun with some race-announcing action. Colt from Cyclingdirt reached out to me a while back to ask me of my interest in helping do some color-commentary for the Open Women's and Men's races. I took on the challenge as I’d had fun working with Dave Towle at Schoolyard Cross a few weeks prior. I did this on both days and had a BLAST. It was tough hurrying from the finish of my race directly to the booth. I was hypoxic and FREEZING but I hope what I said on the mic sounded decent and made people laugh and appreciate more of the goings-on from a racer’s perspective. Day 2 features me with my friend and Boulderite Jeremy ‘JHK’ Horgen-Kobelski. We had a blast and I think I saw a glimmer in his eye that he really wanted to be out there racing…and not in the booth!

All in all a fantastic weekend. My love for the game has never been stronger and the pride I felt having all my friends yell their guts at me around the course was again, truly humbling. It is a direct reflection of the community we have built amongst and within each other’s spirits that continues to draw me to the start grid every weekend, no matter what.

I am indebted.

To really get a feel for the Jaarmarktcrross in Niel, Belgium yesterday, you need to sit with your coffee and stare at these brilliant photos by Kristof Ramon. The strobe work he does is so dramatic, it’s crazy.

See the rest here and begin your daydream.

It’s Veterans Day. I could care what your political tendencies are, I just know there are dudes and dudettes out there thousands of miles away who’d rather be crossing with us on weekends, versus standing post with an M4 or walking down a street where they have know idea what lurks around a corner. Like Lance Corporal Norton here below. Read my ‘5 Questions’ article by clicking the picture below…and take 5 minutes to remember why we get to do the things we can do so freely in our country. Hup!

Well, it certainly came today. Winter is showing her face to us all….or at least the potential for what is brewing in the clouds swirling above Boulder. An ice-fog covered the town this morning as the hard men and women converged on Vics…all wondering who would show given the artic temperatures. If you didn’t show, it’s your ‘tell’ that cross may not be your bag. Or at least we try to think that quietly to ourselves, shivering in the cold as we envision those who aren't there, rolling around in their footie PJ’s, still in their cozy warm beds as we try to get the feeling back in fingers and toes.

For the first time in a few weeks I ‘crossed. I can not tell you the joy I had railing the trails with my family of hardened compatriots. Each week since I hit the deck and re-injured my shoulder, I’ve been a slave to the PT and truly worked on another skill that I typically lack: Patience. It paid off by not rushing back into racing and everything felt really good thankfully. In fact, I decided to truly keep conservative at ‘Worlds this AM and slowed my tempo down to not risk anything…especially after Dubba pulled me aside and re-enforced with me “…not to crash. Get your practice on and get back to racing.” It was super fun and the last few weeks of long epics really made me feel fresh and ‘want it.’

This weekend, USGP’s. It will be epic. And I will race my bike. It’s time to go.