Searching for free speed at the velodrome

I can’t believe that I was at training camp just 4 days ago. The morning after camp ended, I was flying to Florence, then a train to Lucca, and then finding and getting settled into the apartment. I got an Italian SIM card for my phone, and got some fresh produce from the store below the apartment.

The following morning, I walked a mile to the supermarket with my backpack for a more extensive grocery run, and to get the other miscellaneous things that I needed. The forecast had called for rain, but it was a beautiful day. After getting back, I set out for a ride only to see the clouds rolling in, so I spent an hour riding towards the gaps in the clouds before heading back. It was a nice spin to loosen up the legs, at least.

Wednesday morning I wanted to get in a longer easy ride of 2-3 hours, but my flight from Florence was at 2:30pm, and I chose to take the earlier train from Lucca at 10:30 to give myself a decent buffer—this was the first time I was flying out of Florence. That morning, the street in front of the apartment was closed down for a giant market. I really wished I had more time to wander around and see everything. It was another beautiful day, but too cold to ride with the clothes that I have at the moment.

I got to the Florence airport at 1, which was more than enough time before my flight. No worries, I’ll just read to pass the time. Then I learned that a labor strike had resulted in the cancellation of my flight. I was moved to the 6:30 flight, meaning I got to kill 5 hours at the airport. Since the airport is outside of town and I was travelling with carry-on luggage only, I didn’t want to pay for the bus back into town and lug around my backpack all afternoon, so I didn’t even try to venture out. So I stuck in my headphones and watched Cool Runnings on my computer (in honor of the upcoming Olympics, of course!), and listened to a bunch of podcasts. Oh, and I enjoyed my complimentary 10Euro flight-cancellation meal (just 10Euros for 5 hours of my time!).

By the time I reached my hotel in Holland, it was 1am. Up at 8am for breakfast, and then we were headed for the velodrome in Apeldoorn. The velodrome is part of a bigger athletics facility, which was really impressive. The infield had most track/field events, and the arena was huge with restaurants on the upper levels. They’ve got things figured out!

The track itself is a wooden 250m, but the bankings aren’t as steep as the Superdrome in Frisco, where I’ve done the majority of my track racing. That’s good, though, as we wouldn’t be riding track bikes. No, the happy day had finally arrived where I would get to meet my new time trial bike, the Giant Trinity! And she is a beaut.

I hurriedly (but really, quite slowly) put on my skinsuit—I think I could have filled it out when I was 100lbs at 14 years old! I was warming up on the track, getting used to the force in the turns while in my TT position. It was no problem when I was looking where I was going, but we would be testing aerodynamics, meaning I needed to be in my normal TT position. This one:

So I did lap after lap after lap, trying to stay on the black line while looking only 4 feet in front of my bike. I kept missing the start of the turn and ending up too high, or continuing to turn too long, ending up on the apron. I finally got a feel for the rhythm of the track at speed, and after about 20 minutes I was glued to the black line, knowing when to start and stop the lean into the turn. I was so focused on this that I wasn’t paying attention to how fast I was going. When I decided that I was comfortable, I looked at the speedo and saw I’d been holding 48kph during the warmup. I guess I was feeling alright!

Before I continue, I should probably explain what we were doing at the velodrome. Basically, it’s a cheap windtunnel, and growing in popularity as a means of aerodynamics testing. By using an indoor velodrome with known atmospheric conditions, measuring power output and speed during the tests, and some fancy computer work, you can calculate the aerodynamic drag and determine which position is fastest. It’s not quite as precise as a windtunnel, but is very effective at rough adjustments. We would be using the track to dial in our positions well, and making a trip to the tunnel later in the season to perfect them. Another selling point of testing on the velodrome is that the rider can really ride in the position to see if it works, as sometimes a position that you can hold while stationary in the tunnel does not work on the road.

The task at hand for me was to replicate the tunnel-tuned position I raced in last year with success. The first order of business was to put the sharper ski-bend extensions on so I could get my hands higher. Then I was right at home!

We discussed the test protocol, and I was asked if I would be alright with 50kph(31mph) as the top speed for the test. Considering my warmup, it was safe to assume 50 would be okay. 2 laps each at 40-42-44-46-48-50kph, with a lap between each to speed up. With my knowledge of statistics and experimental procedures, I knew that smoother, steadier tests would yield the best results. So while focusing on staying on the black line without looking where I was going, I had to be smooth on the power and hold the right speed. There was a lot going on!

Then the tests started flying by. Also testing were Warren Barguil, Tobias Ludvigsson, and Georg Priedler. While somebody was testing, the mechanics were working on another bike and we just kept rotating. Once we got my position replicated, the baseline calculation showed that I was marginally faster than my tunnel position of last year, which I attribute to the bike, as I was in the tunnel with Orbea’s 7-year-old frameset.

With that settled, we started moving things around just to see what would happen. I also tried out the bowl-shaped helmet, and as comfortable as it was, I lost time with it. In the end, we kept my tried-and-true position, but with the front end just a little bit lower. The result: faster than last year. Yeah, buddy!

Ludicrous speed! Any faster and I'd be plaid.

Then it was back to the airport, arriving in Florence at 10:30, just as the last train to Lucca was leaving. I could wait 6 hours for the next one, or do the smart thing. So I took a taxi to the train station (should have waited half an hour and saved 20Euros by taking the bus, but I was tired) and made the short walk to a nearby hotel I had researched and got a cheap room for the night. After a good night’s sleep, I took the train back to Lucca and got rained on during my ride.

After all that, I’ll be up early tomorrow morning, making the trip again before the sun comes up to kick off my race season in France.  Stage 5 of Etoile de Besseges is an 11K TT with an uphill finish….

Homes of Hope/More Than Sport

This week is one of planes and trains for me. So to make the time pass a bit faster, I’ll do some typing. A story that has been nagging me is that of my trip to Mexico last fall. Cycling has led to the coolest experiences of my life. The top two: racing through the heart of Florence past the Duomo in the World Championships, and building a home in Tijuana. It was truly a disservice to the experience to only give it one paragraph in my 2013 summary.

First, some background. I don’t speak of it much, because really, I don’t speak all that much anyways, but my whole family shares a strong Christian faith. I was raised in the church and my faith is still very important to me, even more so since my dad’s Stage 4 lung cancer diagnosis in2010 as a never-smoker.  My parents also raised me to always give a tithe to the church, something that certainly isn’t easy as a broke bike racer. In practice, I spread my donations around to charities and ministries that I feel a connection to. 

Regardless of the recipient of donations, though, simply giving money is never as fulfilling as giving time and effort. Sometimes it just feels lazy to click the ‘donate’ button. And that’s where the other half of this backstory comes in.

I met Guy East at the Optum-KBS team launch last year, and sometime later we connected on Facebook. My profile says that I am Christian, and so is Guy. He put me in touch with Todd Henriksen, a friend who travels the country to bike races to lead a small-but-growing ministry to professional cyclists—seeing as ours is a weekend sport, church attendance is a near impossibility for most of the year.

I finally met Todd at USPRO National Championships last year, and ever since have been involved with the Athletes in Action ministry, through which I met Ben King (with whom I now share an apartment in Italy).

Now then, how it all comes together: Guy has been living in Tijuana, Mexico for a few years and has coordinated a few home builds as part of the Homes of Hope and More Than Sport charities. While planning the 2013 build, he and Todd were sending out invitations, and I got one. I knew immediately that I wanted to go, I just had to make it happen, as it would not be a cheap trip for a domestic pro. Wouldn’t you know it, I had the bare minimum of frequent flier miles to make the trip! All that time flying around the world has paid off.

I made the flight to San Diego, where I was picked up by Guy as we waited for the rest of our group to be assembled. Optum was well-represented with me, Jesse Anthony, and Bob Gregorio. We were joined by several other cyclists, some from AIA, as well as Olympic gymnast Shawn Johnson.

With the group complete, we piled in the vans and got to know each other as we drove into Mexico. Guy was our tour guide, telling us about the sad state of Tijuana and the unseen results of illegal immigration; most of the illegal aliens caught in the US are returned to Tijuana with no money regardless of where they are actually from, resulting in ‘tent city’, a hopeless place filled with people with no ability to leave. Then there’s the sex and organ and drug trafficking problems. All of this within shouting distance of the US.

But the good news was that we would be helping a family in need. We arrived at the Youth With A Mission campus, complete with dorm rooms, a soccer field, and aquaponics greenhouses to grow the facility’s own safe vegetables.

The sunset our first night in Tijuana

The campus in daylight

We spent the afternoon throwing the Frisbee around as our team bonded, then played soccer under the lights after a delicious dinner. Work would start early the following morning.

Todd wonders how many times I can get juked in 5 minutes

After an early breakfast, we watched the obligatory safety films and were given more details about the family we would be helping. Six months earlier, the family had been approved to receive a new home from Homes of Hope. This is a huge deal because the vast majority of homes are insecure and poorly cobbled together with plywood, cinder blocks, and the like. The banks are not trustworthy, and there is no loan system in place with which families can build a new home all at once. So they save up a little bit of money at a time, then spend it on a few more cinder blocks. That’s why all the houses look incomplete—they are all works in progress. It would take a small family an average of 7 years to make enough to buy the house that we would be building them. The results of this new house are really quite profound, as kids start doing better in school with the certainty of a good home, and money that would have been spent on a house can be put to use in other vital areas of life. Two months before our build, the father of the family died in a car accident, making this an even more significant gift to the family.

After half an hour in the van on spine-rattling roads, we arrived at the site of the build. The concrete foundation had already been poured behind the shack that the family called a house. We unloaded the tools from the truck and moved the stacks of lumber to various locations around the site for each crew. To begin, there was a crew painting the siding while another crew started building the roof gables. Jesse, Todd, and I were hard at work cutting the hundreds of pieces needed to frame the walls.

That first day was such a blur as the house flew up. It seemed we had barely begun when we were already putting the walls up. Even the mother and her 3 kids were enthusiastically helping where they could. I didn’t want to stop for lunch; I would’ve worked through the night to finish the house if they told me to. I was riding the high of building something with my hands and helping a family that desperately needed it. I wasn’t going to be satisfied unless I had given everything I could to make this house perfect for them.

It requires many cyclists to lift a wall

It just looks like I'm standing around, but I really am helping

During our lunch break, I finally had a chance to really take in the neighborhood. Every house was dilapidated and meager, and most didn’t even have doors, much less windows. The roads are all dirt and potholed. Vendors drove around all day advertising their wares through megaphones. Some sold tortillas, others clean water, some bought scrap metal. Drinking water was stored in barrels outside the house.

By the end of the first day, the house was 80% complete. Our whole team had worked very well together, everyone focused on their tasks, and finding a new one as soon as they were done. By the time we got back into the vans that afternoon, all that remained was interior trim work and painting, shingling the roof, and the finishing touches like the front door and the porch cover.

On day 2, before starting up work, we took a collection from the team for donations to help the family with groceries. From what I remember, nearly $1000 went into the hat. Later in the morning, as the job neared completion and there were more workers than work to do (or space in/around the house for them all), part of the crew went on a shopping spree with the family.

The receipt for multiple carts of food....

Meanwhile, the house continued to come together, but a problem had sprung up. The dirt surrounding the foundation was giving way, and the retaining wall eventually gave way completely, meaning that the solid ground was now only a foot from the corner of the foundation. So a small crew was dedicated to fixing the retaining wall to secure the foundation, and they did a great job. I was up above with the roofing crew, doing the best shingle job the world has ever seen.

Eventually, nothing remained but the final paint touch-ups and assembling their new furniture. Then the family returned with bags and bags of food, and we had a dedication ceremony where each member of the crew and family shared their experience with the build.

Success!

It was certainly and unforgettable experience. It was so great to know that I’m directly helping a family in need, and to work with my hands to achieve it. To finally put skin in the game of helping others is very powerful, and I have thought about it every day since. It’s impossible for such a trip to not give you some perspective.

I am a professional cyclist. Even with my meager earnings, I achieve a standard of living, a quality of life that these families can only dream of. I’m blessed to be able to do what I love for a living, but I also realize that my job isn’t ending world hunger. They’re just bike races. My career could end any day with an accident, and to have no purpose in life besides crossing the finish line first could be a disaster.  I can’t begin to understand the grand plan of my life, but the Good Lord has seen fit to give me legs that pedal better than many and open the right doors so that I could reach this point. So I work as hard as I can to be the best, enjoy every day that I get to be a bike racer, and trust that somehow I will be able to accomplish some good in the world.

That final night, we used the last bit of our energy in a very enthusiastic game of soccer, in which most of us managed to injure ourselves in some minor way. Then we all parted ways, a big group of friends after such a powerful experience.

This trip was certainly not my last, and I can’t encourage you enough to find some way of volunteering or giving that directly connects you with others. 3 months afterwards, I still think about the trip nearly every day...that's the kind of effect that the experience can have, and don't you want that?

My first weeks at Giant-Shimano

The new year started like any other, except for the part where I was packing my bags for a 5-month trip in Europe and getting everything else in order.

On January 2nd, my parents drove me to the airport, and I began the first part of my adventure with a backpack and 49.5lbs of luggage. I would first be flying to Philadelphia, where the weather was threatening to disrupt my plans. Thankfully Philly didn't get the worst of the winter storm that was blasting the Northeast, but there was still enough snow to cause my flight to Amsterdam to be delayed by 3 hours as they plowed the runway and de-iced the wings. We spent those 3 hours on the plane, though, which has to be the worst way to kick off a transatlantic flight.

On the bright side, there were several hours before my next flight, so the delay had no real consequences besides exhausting me further. I joined up with several teammates and staff as we made the final leg of the journey to Altea, Spain for training camp.

The team has rented out most of a hotel that doesn't get much business anyways, so we effectively have the run of the place.

On January 4th, the first block of the camp began. For all the non-Europeans who had jetlag, we took things easy for the first couple of days. I got to meet my new bike at last, the Giant TCR Advanced SL with electronic Dura-Ace 11-speed and an SRM power meter. Definitely the most advanced bike I've ever ridden!

This one isn't mine, but you get the idea

 Some of my readers may remember that my first road bike was the cheapest TCR that Giant made. It's certainly come full circle, as now I'm on their most expensive model! If my new bike serves me as well as that first one, it will be a good year, for sure!

I raced my TCR to my Category 3 upgrade 

I even re-purposed it to a TT bike in later years, with success

Back to camp. On the first day, I had a bike fit with the Shimano expert, and made some small adjustments to get my bike perfectly dialed. I also got a fancy new pair of custom insoles--thermoplastic molded right to my feet. It takes care of my varus wedging, too, and for the first time I can feel that my entire foot is touching the insole.

It took me a few days to fully adjust to electronic shifting, but it is nifty, that much is sure. The mechanical engineer in me does miss the simplistic mechanical derailleurs and the finesse required for certain shifts, but I must admit that I was entertained for hours when I learned that I could downshift through the entire cassette by merely holding down a button.

I got to know my new teammates well over the first week as we had plenty of time on rides to talk, followed the thrice-a-day meals cooked by the hotel restaurant. It was certainly the healthiest I've eaten for a whole week straight...ever. With over a dozen nationalities on the team and a half dozen languages spoken around the dinner table, it's a lot to take in. Thankfully, everyone speaks English so we at least have a common language!

Also in the early days of camp, we were weighed and tested for body-fat percentage, to track our progress from the measurements taken in October. I had been hard at work, as I vacationed pretty hard last fall and gone a bit further than intended. The hard work paid off, though, with 9% body fat, which is right in the ideal range.

The first rest day arrived quickly, and I was excited to finally kick the last remnant of the jetlag, but was awoken at 7am for an anti-doping blood test. Such is my life now.

In the second block of training, I had to do a 20min power test to determine my training for the upcoming weeks. I haven't done one of those in a long time, and this was the first time I'd really gone all-out since September. It really hurt, but went fairly well. As an athlete, you always wish the numbers were higher, but that had to be a power record for January. Anyways, I come into form very quickly with a bit of intensity, and now just 2 weeks later I'm certain that I would test higher.

Just a few days in, the team was called in for a meeting in which the team owner, Iwan, explained everything that had happened surrounding our sponsorship last fall, and revealed our new team kits. We had team photos the following day, which was risky as all 28 riders were out in public while trying to keep a lid on things for another week. Somehow no photos surfaced, though!

By the end of the first week, I was neck-deep in training camp twilight-zone. Every day is the same, and in the insulation of the hotel, you lose all track of time and can't remember whether something happened yesterday or last week. We were nearly always kept busy with meals, riding, massages, meetings, interviews, photos, and sleep.

At the end of week one, most of the team left to return home for a week. A handful, myself included, opted to stay. I would be better served by staying put and getting a solid week of training, rather than doing a lot of travel (I certainly have enough of that coming up anyways). Besides, I've already found an apartment in Lucca, Italy for the year so there were really no errands that I needed to get done.*

*For those thinking, "Hey, I thought you would be living in The Netherlands...." I have a Dutch work visa, which requires a Dutch residence. So, the team has registered me and several other riders at a house in Holland, but we will only be staying there when we have races nearby. For the rest of the season, we are free to live somewhere with better weather. So I will be living in Lucca, sharing an apartment with Garmin's Ben King.

The second week was great, as I got to know a handful of teammates much better. We still had some team support with bikes and ride food, as the U23 and Women's teams had camps going on at the same time, but for the most part were self-supported. We had to provide our own meals, which was a nice change of pace. The hotel food was good, but lacked variety. So for a week, we used the kitchenettes in our rooms and shared meals.  We also got in some good rides and had a few adventures.

Then the rest of the team came back (excluding the Tour Down Under squad, of course) and we began another week of more intense training. I can feel my legs coming around quickly, and am really getting excited to race. Today is another rest day (and once again I was awoken at 7am for a blood test), and we have one more tough 3-day block ahead. By the end of the week, I will have passed 1,500 miles for January.

I have seen my race schedule for the spring, and am really excited for the challenges and opportunities that I'll have. My season starts February 2, with the one-day GP Marseillaise, followed quickly after by the 5-day Etoile de Besseges, both in France.

This is my bike. There are many like it but this one is mine. Photo by Cor Vos / Team Giant-Shimano

Got any questions that I didn't answer? Let me know in the comments!

2013 in as many words (and then some)

Training for the 2013 season started with a vengeance after the way my 2012 season ended. By the time training camp rolled around in early February, I already had over 3000 miles in my legs. To say I was motivated would be putting it lightly.

My family learned mid-January that my Dad’s cancer had returned. Thankfully, through perfect timing and circumstance, he would be the first American to begin the stage 2 trial of the most-promising drug for his cancer.

I made it through training camp without crashing, but also was climbing better than I ever had before as a result of my weight loss during the previous fall. I couldn’t wait to get started with racing. I even got to wrap camp up with a session in San Diego’s windtunnel with HED guru Dino. The mechanical engineer and bike dork in me got to geek out!

My season started with the Merco Classic, where I got 3^rd on GC after a very good time trial and a good stage 1.

From there, we hopped over to Portugal, where I immediately loved the racing. I ended up leading Ken out for the win in our opening race, then our team performed quite well at Volta ao Alentejo. I was top-5 twice, plus a very close second after being nipped at the line on the final stage. Ken and Tom also won a stage each, and my 2^nd on GC made for a pretty good haul.

Hungry for a win, I took out my anger on the opening time trial at Redlands and took the top step. I held the lead through the two following stages, only to lose to Mancebo in the last 10 minutes of the Sunset Loop road race. 3 stage races completed, 3 podiums. The frustration was building.

My next race was Joe Martin Stage Race, where my parents would be watching me race on the road for the first time in years. I ended up a close second after the opening hill climb time trial, but the chaotic finish of the first road stage put me in the leader’s jersey. I had to rely heavily on my team in the final two stages, and together we kept Mancebo restrained. I finally had my first NRC Stage Race win, and my parents were there to see it!

From there, I race Gila just a couple days later, succumbing to some sort of allergies and having a poor performance. I dropped out of the final stage after an hour, hoping that maybe I could salvage a good Tour of California.

15 minutes before the start of Tour of California, we still hadn’t decided whether I would go for the GC or the KOM jersey…that was decided when I didn’t make it into the break on stage 1. Stage 2 was the most memorable stage of the whole year with its suffocating heat. Thanks to the support of the team getting me to the final climb practically shivering from all the ice and fluids they were getting, I had the climb of my life and took 6^th on the stage, jumping to 7^th on GC. We had a few good sprint stages, with Ken snagging 2^nd on one. Then I had a good-but-unsatisfying time trial, and finished top-20 on the Mount Diablo stage, dropping to 10^th overall. Not too bad for my first foray in a 2.HC event, and the talks that had already begun with WorldTour teams intensified after that result.

I did not recover well after Tour of California. It had been 6 straight months of building without a significant block of rest, and that race was so hard that it finally pushed me over the edge. I managed a very good performance at the TT national championships, but was still disappointed with my 5^th place finish. A couple of days later I realized just how burned out my body was when I couldn’t even make the 2^nd group on the climb in the road race.

I still had 2 races to go before my summer break, though, so I was resting furiously between races, trying to get any semblance of performance back.

I actually felt pretty good during Philly, but started to fade towards the end so we opted to make Jesse the guy for the race, leading him out into the base of Manayunk wall the final time, where he brought home a hard-fought 2^nd.

A week later, we were racing the Nature Valley GP—a must-win race for Optum, and one that they had won the 2 years prior. We stacked the top-10 in the opening time trial to give us as many options as possible for the remaining stages. Friedman went on to take yellow after a very dramatic stage 2, and would hold it to the end. I was happy to take on the role of worker for him, as nobody was more deserving of the win and the best way to get my legs to summer break was to ride tempo at the front for him.

Ahh, summer break. 9 days without touching a bike, and then a couple of weeks to start building form again. It was during the break that I finally cemented the deal with Argos-Shimano, which had quickly emerged as the frontrunner during discussions. With that completed, I could focus on the rest of the season without stressing about the future.

Also during the break, I moved across town to Ian’s new house in the Old North End of Colorado Springs—big old houses in the beautiful part of town. Ian’s new house had a huge finished 3^rd floor/attic space, which would be perfect for a couple of bike-racing Hagas.

My first race back would be the Cascade Classic, and I was very fresh going in. The objective was to win by the smallest margin possible—that is, to win but still use the race as a building block for the late-season biggies.

The morning before the prologue (which I had won in 2012), my family learned that my dad was again cancer-free!

As I was still building form, I didn’t quite have winning legs for the prologue. Stage 1 went well, but I struggled a bit on the final climb of the day. Thankfully I was a bit better in the Stage 2 time trial, climbing up to 3^rd on GC. It was on the finishing climb of stage 3, though, where I felt that my legs had finally arrived. After battling Mancebo and Gaimon up the climb, I took 3^rd in the sprint finish at the top and jumping to 2^nd on GC. I survived the crit, and the final stage was going to be a nailbiter. Unfortunately, our plans did not work out and I dropped to 3^rd overall. Not what I was hoping for, but I knew my legs were getting better every day.

Up next was the Tour of Elk Grove, which I had not raced since first signing with KBS in 2011. The race’s opening time trial went well, giving me my 2^nd stage win of the season (and first UCI stage win ever). Then Randerson finished 2^nd in the remaining two stages, giving him 2^nd on GC in the end. I had one day to recover before the Tour of Utah.

The purpose of my racing the Elk Grove/Utah double (Tour of Elktah) was to gain as many UCI points as possible before the cutoff for Worlds TTT qualification. We succeeded in qualifying, so it was worth it, but this plan would also be my downfall. After such a huge spring for me, undertaking a 10-day stage race was ambitious, and resulted in wearing me out again. I felt great for the first few stages of Utah, but then hit the wall of fatigue and performed poorly in the key late stages.

I had to watch the USA Pro Challenge for the third time, so I just put that frustration into my training for the Tour of Alberta. I would only be satisfied with a win in the prologue, which was suited very well for me.

I knew that my prologue form was very good going in, and the course was memorized and practiced. I felt that my execution of my pacing and cornering was nearly perfect, but it would only be good enough for 6^th in the end. I could have gone a bit faster, but Sagan was far out of reach that day, and he would go on to dominate the rest of the race. Like I said, my prologue form was good. I seriously struggled with the road stages—I just couldn’t handle the sustained intensity any more. Randerson, thankfully, continued his hot streak with several good finishes, along with Eric Young’s nailbiting 2^nd on stage 1.

Our season would end with a trip to Italy for Worlds TTT. We had an awesome rental up in the mountains outside Florence, and had a mini-camp of TTT practice. Training in the morning, Italian fine dining in the evenings. It was great!

The race itself, though, didn’t go quite to plan. Friedman was suffering early and was dropped shortly after the big climb of the day, and I felt great until the half-way point, when I had to start skipping pulls and taking short pulls. A disappointing way to finish my last race in Optum colors, but it was an amazing experience to bounce past the Duomo in the World Championships!

After that, I bid my teammates adieu and went on vacation in Tuscany. For a few days, I traveled with Sam, Optum’s media/photo guy. We toured Florence and Siena (watching their horse races is now on my bucket list), and then I met Ian and his fiancé in front of the leaning tower. We would go on to see La Spezia and finish the trip on the beach of Cinque Terre with some kayaking and paddle-boarding. It was an awesome trip, and I had way too much gelato. Like I said, it was an awesome trip.

Returning to Colorado as October began, I readied the third floor for a new occupant: Shane!!! Having graduated and become a bike racer, he was finally joining me in Colorado. We went mountain biking and had a grand old time.

10 days after arriving, I was on the road again. We drove back to Texas, where I boarded a plane to Amsterdam to meet my new team and get set up with them. After 4 days in the Nederlands, I was on an early flight back to Dallas, where Shane would pick me up and we’d go straight to Lee’s bachelor party. I was the best man, and I somehow managed to make it through the night. We did have some real Texan fun, though, as evidenced by the menu for the evening, which was concluded with some skeet shooting.

The wedding was great, I gave the greatest toast ever, and then after another day of rest Shane and I drove back to Colorado.

I stayed for another 10 days, then was up in the air once more. This time, en route to Tijuana.  I would be joining Jesse Anthony and Optum’s mechanic Bob, along with several more cyclists and Shawn Johnson, among others. Our group, organized by Guy East as a Homes of Hope/More Than Sport project through Youth With a Mission, would be building a house in 2 days for a family who greatly needed it. To add even more emotion to such an awesome cause, we learned that the father of the family had passed away in a car accident just two months prior. I have so much to tell about this experience, but not enough time or space to do so. Please ask me about it, I would love to tell you more. It truly was incredible, and was great to actually get skin in the game of helping others and meeting some awesome people in the process. I hope to build many more houses in the future!

The day after returning from Mexico, training for 2014 began in earnest. So much for the offseason!

I returned to Texas shortly before Christmas, so that I could spend my remaining time in America with my family. 2014 would not begin slowly!

Snippets

I've been wanting to write lately, but was unsure of a good subject. I just kept coming up with half-thoughts, ideas that didn't really lead anywhere. Then it occurred to me that, together, they could make a complete story. Or it could just be a series of disjointed, half-finished thoughts. Let's give it a shot, though, and see what happens.
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When asked about my history with bikes, my story invariably includes the phrase, "I grew up on bikes." I phrase it that way intentionally. Bicycles have played a part in every phase of my life, from training wheels to race bikes.

My mom recently decided that it was finally time to redecorate my room at home. In doing so, she entered memory lane, stumbling upon all of my old school stuff. I had notes and schoolwork in my closet ranging from middle school through college. I'm a dork, what can I say? You never know when you might need to look up your end-of-semester poetry assignment from Mrs. Jones' class in 7th grade. Or, perhaps, an essay you wrote about bikes when you were 16 years old.

I'm sure my mother was crying as she read this essay, because let's face it, she's going through all of my old stuff. She's going to be crying. (Love ya, Mom!)

I won't bore you with the full thing, but here are a few excerpts that really stood out to me. For context, I was writing about when I first learned to wheelie on my BMX.

On my bike, hours at a time, I strove to keep the front wheel off the ground a little longer than the last time. It was during this time that I discovered that merely sitting on the seat and pedaling was a great way to reflect upon, or even escape, the world in which we live. If I am angry, I can vent all that energy by riding as hard as I can until my lungs scream for oxygen  my muscles on the verge of collapsing. Even when I am calm, riding is an exhilarating experience, transporting me out of reality and into my own little world.

I try to ride every day, just to clear my head of the chaos around me. I have learned many more tricks, donated more than a little flesh to the pavement learning them, and still live to ride. 

I do not know why it is that I am so addicted--maybe I am just meant to ride bikes.  I also don't know why riding clears my head so well--maybe it's a s simple as the pedaling motion is also turning the gears in my head. Either way, bicycling has become my refuge from the pandemonium of life and an unrivaled form of expression.

Reading that now, it makes so much more sense to me now that I fully understand what it means to be an introvert. (Side note, if you really want to know more about me, read that post. That's me exactly.) I still love to go on long solo rides, and now I know why.
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When I was just a local mountain-bike racer in high school, there was a  race not too far from where I lived. It was a relatively unpopular trail, though, so it didn't get the greatest turnout of the series. In the Sport 15-16 category, especially, there was a poor turnout: 1. Me.

To make the start waves more efficient, they simply put me in with the next group. I thrive off competition, and the promoters had just given me plenty. Nevermind that it was over a dozen full-grown middle-aged men, I wanted to beat them. I don't think I beat them all, but I sure as heck got the holeshot.

This wouldn't be the last time in my racing career that I tried to "punch above my weight."
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In 2010, I spent the summer as bike racer. I had worked at an internship the previous two summers and wanted to spend my last in college enjoying it.

I put several thousand miles on my truck that summer driving back and forth across the country. One trip in particular was special, though, in that Shane came along for the ride. It would be his first real trip to a bike race outside of Texas, a fact that I never realized until he pointed it out to me recently at the Cascade Classic.

The race was the Tour of Lawrence. We opted to skip the street sprints on Friday night, choosing instead to save our legs for the more important races and save money on a hotel by paying our Grandmother a visit in Oklahoma. The next day we finished the drive to Kansas just a couple of hours before the race, which didn't go great for either of us. It was a technical, difficult, and wet circuit and we just didn't have a great race.

That evening, we rented a hotel room with two full-size beds. I used my AAA membership to get the room rate down to $40 for the night, so it was a really nice place. After we unloaded the bikes and gear into the room, we went around the corner to Dominos--we had a coupon. While Dominos was making the pizzas, we walked next door to the gas station and bought two half-gallons of milk.

We spent the evening on our beds watching some movie (for some reason one of the Bourne movies comes to mind) with our two medium Dominos pizzas and our milk.

Checkout was late morning. We consolidated the leftover pizza into one box and loaded up the truck. It was still 6 hours before we would race, so the brothers Haga went to watch Toy Story 3 in 3D. Yeah, I teared up when Andy gave the toys away, what are you gonna do about it?

Anyways, the movie ended and we returned to the truck with our eyes barely open because the sun was so intense. It was a hot and muggy day, and my truck was filled with still-damp race clothes from the day before and a box of pizza. You can guess how that smelled.

The crit that evening went slightly better. My last-lap flyer failed, but Shane pulled off a decent sprint and won his half of the gas money and hotel room. It had started raining hard half-way through the race, and 2 minutes after the finish, the course was flash-flooding.
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When I signed with Kelly Benefit Strategies in 2011, I immediately knew that I would never leave the team voluntarily until I was in a position to make the big jump. The level of support that I received was obviously unparalleled on the domestic circuit, so there was no good reason to want to be anywhere else.

The support paid off, too, especially this year. People noticed. I did a good job of compartmentalizing everything that was going on this season. Focus on the races when I'm racing, and deal with negotiations in between. I had a great group of people to talk to while all this was happening: friends, family, team staff, and my teammates.

Two days after the ink was dry, Marcel Kittel won the first stage of the Tour de France. My mind exploded a little bit, for sure. My new team held the yellow jersey of all yellow jerseys, and I could say nothing.

Finally, after sitting on the news for so long that my butt was sore, the announcement came just days before my 25th birthday that I will be performing on cycling's biggest stage for the next 2 years with one of the most dominant teams on the circuit.

To answer your question: surreal. It feels surreal, the knowledge that all of my experiences have led me to this point.

Worn out.

Today marks the 8th day that I have not gone for a bike ride. Why, you might wonder? Well, since base training commenced last Thanksgiving, these ol' legs have accumulated 10,000 miles. So, yeah, I needed some time off. Truly, I needed it after Tour of California, but I just had to push through the best I could and help the team.

After returning from Portugal, I had a bit of time to adjust to the altitude and sharpen up for Redlands. It went pretty well, I must admit. I got my first win of the year in the opening time trial, and held on to yellow until the last 15 minutes of the Sunset Loop Road race. Mancebo just proved to be too much to handle that day.

As disappointed as I was to lose the race, we did pretty well to snag 2nd and 3rd overall (Zirbel) without even fielding a full squad at the race. We would be prepared for the next race.

That race was the Joe Martin Stage Race. Going into it, we knew that we could win the whole thing. And I intended to do just that--my parents would be there to watch me race on the road for the first time in years. My legs were great, but I still made a couple of tactical mistakes--including one whopper in the second road race--and had to be bailed out by my team. They delivered, so I had to, too. Once again I went into the final stage with a mere 5 second lead on Mancebo, but this time we had him under wraps. The guys buried themselves to keep the pace high the whole day and mow down every attack except for Mancebo; he was my sole focus the whole day. In the end, I won my first NRC stage race (crossing off one of my 3 season goals) in front of my parents. For the full significance of this win, you've got to read my Dad's blog about the race: http://canceron2wheels.blogspot.com/2013/04/when-dreams-intersect.html

Eric and Meatball enduring another Kenda team attack after riding on the front on gross day

Hiding in my team bubble in the crit

Mancebo had a very short leash indeed

That afternoon we began the first leg of our trip over to Silver City for the Tour of the Gila. With the form I had, I had thoughts about winning. As it turned out, the environment had other plans. On the first stage, I was across the mesa on the Mogollon climb without ever really suffering. Two seconds later I was completely blown without warning. I couldn't breathe at all. Stage 2 was never terribly difficult, but in the time trial I was great for first 15 minutes and then completely fell apart again. My nose was running constantly, and other racers were having similar problems. In the crit, the most I helped the team all day was moving over to let Eric take Cando's wheel for the sprint. I started the Gila Monster but was immediately in the hurt box, unable to breathe again. For the second year in a row, I DNF'ed, pulling out in the first feed zone. I knew I had stellar form, that I wasn't overcooked from the race season. I had to keep reminding myself that something external to me was the cause, and to brush it off--next on the calendar was the Tour of California.

Across the mesa on Mogollon at the front, completely comfortable. Surprise collapse imminent.

Even with a bad second half, I managed 11th in the TT on my sweet new bike

Half an hour before the Tour of California started, we were still debating whether I should go for the KOM jersey or GC. That decision wasn't made until I missed the break just a few miles in. Welp, that's settled, then! As it turned out, I surpassed even our optimistic expectations and finished the race in 10th overall. A learning experience, for sure. Even with an okay time trial, I could have finished in 5th or 6th if I hadn't made some mistakes on the wind-blown stage 5 in which the race exploded. We also missed an opportunity for a stage win due to miscommunication between me and Cando on stage 1. Such an amazing race, though, and I think I'll be hearing about my finish on stage 2 for quite a while. Also, climbing with the lead group through the thousands of spectators on Mount Diablo was one of the coolest experiences ever.

Finishing 6th in the sweltering 112 degrees of Palm Springs on stage 2

I even got a bit crazy in the TT and changed to my road bike for the finish climb

Next after TOC was USPRO Nationals. My legs felt good going into the time trial (another of my season goals) and I had a really good ride but ended up just 5 seconds from the podium. Big Z crushed it to avenge his suffering in California's heat. I can't wait to see him in his stars-and-bars skinsuit on his custom painted bike! In the road race, I saw just how overcooked I was from such an exciting spring so far. I had to shift focus mid-race and work for Cando, as it was obvious I would not make the front group the final time up the climb. In the end, our chase group was unable to rejoin the leaders and we just rode it in to the finish.

Somehow the photogs always catch me when I lift my head to take a peek up the road

From Tallahassee, we moved on to Baltimore for a week of rest (for me) before undertaking the iconic Philly Cycling Classic. I was disappointed to need rest so badly, as the riding in the Northeast is phenomenal.

Doing well at Philly is entirely about being in position for the climb up Manayunk Wall each lap. The first few laps I was about 40 riders back every time, but made the front group each time up to make sure we had representation there. Zirbel, Zwiz, Marsh, and Friedman were on full attack mode, riding in every break of the day up the road. Ken was helping me, Cando, and Jesse with positioning in the runup to the wall. Being unfamiliar with the course, though, it took me a few laps to get a handle on how the fight for position goes, and I kept getting pinched off the train and pushed back before the bottleneck at the bottom. The penultimate time up, I was already pretty smoked and knew I was not the guy for the final sprint up. So I jumped into leadout mode for Jesse and Cando, taking the front with about 3-4km to go. Jesse had a great sprint up, managing second on the day and Big Z was rewarded with his efforts off the front all day with the sprint jersey. With my leadout completed, I rode wheelies up the wall to the finish. Let me tell you, drunken fans love wheelies!

At the base of the wall, the field's been whittled down quite a bit in the 120 mile race

Come on ride that train!

 After Philly, I immediately went into recover mode again, as I still had one more race between me and summer break--arguably the most important race on our calendar because it's in our sponsors' hometown, the Nature Valley Grand Prix. We took a hit squad to the race with the sole purpose of winning the GC. Even despite my fading legs, I managed 7th in the TT and we stacked the GC with the whole team in the top 12. I had fun in the St. Paul crit because I actually raced it! I've always loved crits, but fighting for position all the time without ever racing is miserable. In Canon Falls, we unleashed the fury on Jelly Belly and Friedman took yellow with Zwiz and Jesse right up there in mix as well. The crit in uptown the next night was awesome because we just rode the front the whole time. We were going hard the whole night, but I could manage it because it was at or below threshold, and I never had to make any hard accelerations. In the Menomonie road race, I got to ride the front all day along with Zirbel and Creed. I had to sag all of the climbs, but then immediately went back up to the front for some more tempo work to keep the field together for Friedman. On the final stage in Stillwater, I managed to ride the front for about half of the race before my legs finally gave out and I got to watch Friedman win from the sidelines. Of course, I had to ride a few wheelies up the wall before pulling out. I made it to summer break!

Eddy Merckx TT in the pouring rain

Crits are so much easier when you control the front

A long day of tempo

So like I said, it's been 8 days since I last rode a bike, and I'm gonna take at least one more day off. Do I really need that much rest? Well, let me tell ya...

I had the opportunity, between Philly and Nature Valley, to do some physiological testing at UC Denver with the esteemed Dr. Inigo San Millan, and we got some really interesting data. At lower and middle intensities, we learned that I do a very good job of burning fat for fuel. Once the power was cranked up, though, I fell apart pretty quickly. The most telling bit was that when I finally cracked (much earlier than I should have, mind you), the concentration of lactic acid in my muscles was actually very low. That means that my muscles literally had a lower threshold for pain before shutting down. All this data was confirmed with my power data in races--I was completely fine at lower and middle intensities, but (no joke) I was missing 10% of my usual power on the climbs. Yeah, I needed rest.

Oh, and for the record, I do not like the breathing apparatus on the testing machine. It was my first time testing with one, and I was not prepared. There's no resistance on the intake side of the mask, but there is a bit of backpressure when you exhale. That bit of pressure made my mind think that there was a hand on my face and I wouldn't be able to inhale again. So for the first ten minutes, my mind was doing this:

<Inhale> This mask isn't too bad, but it's not very comfortable.
<Exhale> There's something covering my mouth, I'm gonna die!
<Inhale> Phew, I can breathe, I guess I'll be okay.
<Exhale> There's something covering my mouth, I'm gonna die!

In my time off, I've enjoyed doing anything and everything that doesn't involve bikes. I've also had time to digest all the excitement that this spring has brought with it--multiple cyclingnews and velonews articles, and most recently I was featured in ROAD magazine (buy a copy!).  The attention did not stop there, and big news is in the works in the near future, I'm pleased to say.

With that, you can consider yourself up to date on my activities! Now then, time to tune up my mountain bike so it will be ready when I am...there is plenty of racing still to come, and it's about time to get back to work.

Portugal!

Well, I'm back in Colorado after a successful trip to Portugal! I'm just gonna give you snippets of observations and experiences from the trip, and many photos. Enjoy!

I had a blast racing over there and the country was great. The food was delicious, and every town we stopped in (or bounced through on cobbled streets) was beautiful, and the general public loves to watch bike racing.

The language was hard to understand--written Portuguese looks fairly similar to Spanish, so I was able to discern many of the words. Spoken, though, the language sounds like a German or Dutch imitating Spanish. More than a few times, the language barrier had us scrambling to communicate, and we found ourselves speaking broken Spanish in the hopes that maybe it would work. It didn't.

Trans-Atlantic flights are long, but they go a lot faster when your personal TV works. The Life of Pi was a great movie.

We didn't get to do a ton of touristy stuff, but a few of our easy rides found us duck-walking through castles in our bike shoes. Castles are awesome! The castle at Marvao (the location of the stage 1 finish) was built in the 9th century.

Some of these photos were stolen from Tom and Jesse.

Cobbled streets led us to the castle along the route of our first race

We had some fun with the iPhone 5's panorama feature

The basilicas in Fatima had many rules...no skanks and no trumpets!

A cool road...we're looking at the Marvao castle in the distance

Cool castle is cool. 

Coolest ride I've ever done

We were definitely waterlogged that day

So devastated. 

Just another day at the office.

Here are the race summaries I posted on facebook, along with the videos of each stage.  For some more photos, check out the cyclingnews article about the trip.
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Today was our first race here in Portugal, my first in Europe. As I understand it, the race was part of Portugal's national race calendar, but not a UCI race. 171km with 3 categorized climbs towards the end. The racing was awesome. Very aggressive, constant attacking for almost the whole day. I was in several moves, including one big one that stayed away for a while. Then Salas got away on the first climb in a small group and didn't come back until after the second climb. We prerode the finishing circuit yesterday, so we knew the climb and the run-in to the finish well. The last time up the climb, just 6km from the finish, I gave it a go but could not get clear, so we reverted to our field sprint plan. It was crazy and chaotic, and our train got broken up. With just two turns to go, gaps were opening and a few riders were slipping away. I saw Ken was about to jump to close the gap, so I took a run up his inside with 2 turns to go and he slid in behind me. With him on my wheel, I jumped into the u-turn with 700m to go and sprinted out of the turn, getting him to the small group ahead of us with about 400m to go. He moved over behind them as I dropped anchor, then dusted them in the sprint for the win. When I say dusted, I mean they posted the results with a time gap between him and 2nd place. In summary, Portugal is awesome, and bike racing is quite fun.
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My legs were great today. Going into the cat 3 climb at 150k in, Jesse and i got caught up in a stupid crash caused by others. I got going again faster than him, and was able to make it back to the group. Then I wasted a little bit of energy following moves up the climb. Hit the final climb in good position, had really snappy legs and was on anything that moved. One guy slipped away while I was boxed in, and the group spent a lot of time looking at each other. With a bit more than a k to go, I attacked and was clawed back. I recovered a little, and with 500m to go hit it again, getting clear. I blasted past the last two from the all-day break and closed the leader to 15m in the final switchback as the road leveled off with 150m to go. I didn't have the snap to kick again, and was passed in the final meters by 2 guys. Had I waited just a little longer to attack, that race would've been mine. Live to fight another day....


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Getting closer.... Crosswinds today made for an active and feisty field, with lots of groups coming and going. At 85k in, I managed to slip into a 10-man break. The winds gave us the advantage as the field splintered behind us. We worked well together until guys started to fade. With 10k to go, we still had over a minute lead. Inside 2k, I followed the first attack, then countered in the gutter going into a roundabout, which opened gaps like I hoped. Only 1 guy followed, and it turned out to be the one guy I knew I couldn't outsprint, Stuyven from bontrager. We were committed, though, and he out kicked me in the finale. I've moved into 2nd in GC, and the real fun starts as the weather turns for the worst. Yeehaw!

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Today's stage was exciting and boring at the same time. 20 minutes before the start, we were huddled in the van as waves of pea-sized hail rained down. Then the sun came out, although we were rained on a few times during the race. Being 2nd on GC (and wearing the points jersey) meant I was to stay protected in the field all day. There were several very fast sections with mild crosswinds, so the 11-tooth got a lot of time today. The break didn't get away until 120k in, and we slowed to a crawl for half an hour. The guys kept me out of the wind, though, and I averaged 134bpm for the whole day. The last 20k were downhill with a tailwind, so you can imagine how much fun I was having while fighting to stay at the front at 70kph. Our leadout train assembled, but was swarmed with 3k to go and then it became a fight for survival as the road plunged on a technical descent into town. Ken freelanced it, taking the win like a boss and I came in 20th or so after closing gaps the last 2k to get same time on the stage.

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50 deg and raining hard at the start of today's stage. We embro'd up and rolled out for a thorough soaking. It dumped rain on us for 60k, and nothing interesting happened until we reached a town with a raised railroad crossing at a very oblique angle. Guys went down everywhere, and I managed to slow significantly and alter my approach, but still ended up on the ground. Not sure what happened, maybe somebody's bike hit my wheel. No big deal, jumped up and rejoined the field. Mild winds excited the field as we changed directions frequently along the coast, but we stayed together. Then after the final sprint of the day, Zirbel and Zwiz attacked together on a tailwind false flat climb and the Portuguese teams whose race-losing tactics have baffled us since our arrival let them go. Uhhh...you just let two big TT guys roll away with 15k downhill to the finish.... Spoiler : they would never come back. At the top, the field started gearing up for the sprint and we took control of the front to stay out of trouble. Thankfully the roads were dry by this point. We kept the pace high but under control, and the other teams let us. About 4k out, I heard the giant pileup that would whittle the field down to 40 riders. We delivered Ken (and ourselves) safely to the beginning of the technical descent into town. Rather than fight for position, I floated the turns, taking good lines and avoiding the multiple crashes. Sandy final turns persuaded Ken to call it a day--we already had the victory--and I finished same time with the group while Zirbel moved way up on GC. Tomorrow's stage is short but tough, I can't wait!

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In today's final stage of Volta ao Alentejo, we went all in to try and seize the overall from the Bontrager team. The circuit featured a fast cat4 climb that we would do 4 times. The guys were attacking from the gun, keeping constant pressure on bontrager to chase. 20k in, we assembled on the front before a good crosswind stretch that we checked out before the start. After making the turn, we put it in the gutter and went full gas for nearly 10 minutes, knocking the field down to about 50-60 riders. From that point on, nobody really want to race besides us. Our guys continued to flog themselves, but bontrager held strong. The 4th time up the climb, we put in a team attack to launch me. Unfortunately nobody followed, so we adjusted the plan to go for the stage win with me. I flatted with 30k remaining, motor pacing back up to the caravan. Because of a couple of flats and exhaustion, I only had Salas helping me into the base of the climb. Once it pitched up 2k from the finish, I was on my own in the scrum. I forced myself to stay patient and allow the other racers to pull back the little attacks as we twisted upward. The final turn was a 500m to go. The front of the race came back together just before the turn. I was 10th wheel, had momentum as the road flattened out temporarily, and the inside line was open. I'd had enough patience and didn't want to leave it to a group sprint because there were still better sprinters than me in the group. I jumped hard up the inside, just making it past the leader before he dove into the corner. I took it hot, coming out of the turn with a 10m gap and stretching it. 300m to go, one rider caught me and started to go by. I slid in behind him, and he exploded. So I jumped again, desperate for the finish to arrive. I just kept sprinting, checking between my legs and seeing a wheel back there, but not getting any closer. So I kept sprinting, still leading. 50m to go, I refused to slow down. Then 20m before the line, an orange blur (I was crosseyed by this point) came by me. I actually found the breath to scream "Nooo!" I was caught so off guard. I nearly fell off my bike after I crossed the line. So I wrapped up my euro debut with two 2nds, a 4th, and 2nd in GC in a UCI stage race, hungry for more.