You know your man is workin' hard

Here is my Gene Simmons face from Mt Friggin' A:



Matthew McNeely has several more photos from Mt. A on his flickr page, including many examples of why you don't need to go to the Tour to find a crazy fan dressed like the Devil. We have this one of Ge Willi, this pic of Feltslave not riding a Felt, and finally, this pic of Zoo (aka Dave) doing something to his bike that looks like it must be illegal in every state except Nevada. Many thanks to Matt for taking and publishing these photos. Be sure to check out the others, as we have Armand, the Cronoman, and of course KL.

Sticking with the same theme, we have mounting evidence (huh-huh) that the summer is winding down. I'm pretty happy with the year, despite not winning anything. My fitness came along much better than expected, no injuries, and I've been down near my fighting weight for several months. At this point, I realize the love handles just aren't going to come off, but my diet lately might have something to do with that.

Last week, I took Monday off from training to hit the driving range with the Wog, Jeff the Genius, and Super Sammy. This was my first time swinging a golf club all year, and I was pleased to be putting some good distance on my shots, despite spraying them over an area a bit wider than the average fairway. Afterwards we went to Golden Abacus for some Mai Tais and a Chinese feast, just the right fuel for a rest day. The following Saturday before Mt A, KL and I headed over to my company picnic for ribs, beans, slaw, fruit, etc, all before noontime (well, of course KL only ate fruit). These calories were much needed for the grueling 8 mile TT on Sunday. On the way home from Mt A, KL led us to a gourmet market in Portsmouth where I got a delicious ham and cheese panini sandwich. Monday was another day off the bike, but this time I took a half vacation day to take to the course for a real round (well, actually it was just a par three, or "par free" as we like to call it, on our company-owned course). Me, the Wog, and JTG got in fifteen holes, skipping a few to get around some slowpokes. You wouldn't think that walking a par three would be all that taxing, but at the end I was wiped. Maybe this will be a good way to ease back into running. Of course, no good day of golf ends with just golf, so we headed over to Lewis's in Norwood to top off my week of gluttony with a massive burger, fried calamari, onion rings, and a few pints of Guinness. No Rasmussen diet for me hombes! Oh yeah, I almost forgot, on the way home I stopped at Crescent Ridge Dairy for a double cone of Mocha chip with jimmies.

Tuesday night I headed to Wompatuck. Traffic hasn't been too bad this year. I logged off work right at 5:10, and clicked into my pedals at 6:14. Riding in through the park, I got ten minutes of easy warmup and rolled up to registration just as Tom was giving final instructions, so I didn't miss any laps. There were almost forty riders present, although mostly the local crew, as the Boston guys don't have as much daylight for riding back to the subway station. The race wasn't too fast, average just under 42 kph, but the field split in half several times. I made some efforts, trying to go out for five minutes at a time, hard, to work on my VO2 max. Near the end a big split occured, and I got stuck in the back. Knowing this was it, I bridged with another guy, but ditched him just as I made the junction on the little rise after the finish. The front split was big, over a dozen riders, and everyone was just watching everyone else. Following suit, I sat in near the back of the group, and moved up on the last lap when it started to unwind. I was trying to slot in to fourth wheel in the train, but little sixteen year old Gavin Mannion fought me for it and I let him have it, which turned out to be a mistake. One guy jumped, and Gavin let a gap open, and just then Markie Mark comes flying by on the inside. I didn't want to jump left because I thought someone had to be on Markie's wheel (nobody was) and by now Gavin was starting to accelerate. I thought I'd get him, but he kept going to the line. Markie and a Coast punk sprinted for the win, and Skip Foley came around the outside of me and Gavin to take third. So I got fifth.

My recovery was amazing last night. I could pull hard for two laps and as soon as I drifted back and got a wheel I felt fine. Doesn't it just figure there are no crits in the immediate future? I have my best speed in years, so what am I going to do? Go to the 106 mile D2R2 dirt road slog, and then the long and slow Green Mountain Stage Race, of course. After that we have Haverhill and the Bob Beal Master's Omnium, so at least I'll have a few more chances to see if I can do something, if my form holds that is. Thanks for reading.