Yellow Line

The racing season started for real on Saturday at the Turtle Pond Road Race in Loudon, NH. Promoted by the MetLife team, TP has been on the calendar for quite a few years now. I have never done particularly well there, but there's still a lot to like about this race. MetLife has always done a good job organizing, and the parcours is interesting, an 18k loop of rural NH roads, mostly rollers with one sizeable climb, where the finish used to be. The course layout has been changed around several times as those in charge searched for something to ease the logistical challenge of setting up a race staging location and a finish in an area that hasn't got much going on. Last year they added a second climb on a chicane-like "Hot Hole Pond" road, but it wasn't really safe to go racing through a popular fishing spot with cars parked on the shoulders, so that go nixed this year. The finish remained in the new location on the fastest part of the course though, rather than on the original big climb. We would do five laps, 90k. Got it?

Last year I elected to race with the 35+, as they go in the afternoon wave, but this year I got up at the ass-crack of dawn to make the 0910 start for the 45+ with six of my BOB teammates. We had four experienced all arounders, including myself, along with our chronically wounded but reliable sprinter/captain Duano, and two guys who had not raced very much at all in the past ten years, just coming in to get their feet wet again. The field would number around 60 starters, I think, with OA Cyclemania having about nine guys, many of whom are known to be very strong escape artists. There were also several dangerous men new to the 45+ group this year, like Thomas Francis (Bike Barn), Tobi Schultze (Fuji), and Fabio Piergentili and Peter Brennan (Galaxy). Sunapee had three or four guys too.

Hilljunkie already reported on his perspective of the race over on his blog. Let's just say he reads a race a lot differently than I do. But I think everyone could agree that OA was the team to watch here. Sixty is a lot for a masters race, but it's becoming more normal, and with almost ten guys and narrow roads like we have at TP, controlling a race was certainly possible for them. However, masters teams generally don't have an off the bike director, we don't have team follow cars, and even the pros aren't allowed radios anymore. Weird shit happening can usually be guaranteed...

And for me it did not take long. The first time up the hill is supposed to be neutral, as we start right at the bottom and they don't want everyone swarming the staging area an hour early like in cyclocross. So we're rolling up the hill and saying hello to one another and suddenly there is a bike stopped in the road. Some guy had dropped his chain, and instead of using his front derailleur to put it back on, or at least putting his hand up, he just stopped. I ran right into him and got knocked off my bike. After pausing to say a bit more than hello to him, I remounted and sprinted onto the back of the field, as the allegedly "neutral" pace was high enough to cause concern.

This put me solidly at the rear, and on the descent a trio of riders were already attacking the field. I knew one would be an OA, and I could see one in a plain blue jersey, but I did not know the other one was Schultze. On my team, we knew we did not have the horsepower to contain all the strong guys in the field. With the downhill finish, our best hope was to keep the race together and try to setup Duano. But there are ALWAYS breaks at Turtle Pond. Even I stayed out solo here for two laps a few years ago, but unfortunately they were not the last two laps. In hilly races, generally I judge it best to let a break go if it does not go on a hill, as anybody can get a gap when the field is not going hard on the flat parts. Turtle Pond is kind of an anomaly though, as the hill is not that big, and the entire course is rolling. Successful breaks can go anywhere. Still, we did not think OA would be content with just one guy out of their nine up the road, especially isolated against Tobi, who was the best sprinter in the field. As it turned out, they were OK with it, and their guy was Ron Bourgoin, who is also a fair sprinter. Never found out who the other guy was.

So within minutes of the race start, we have three guys riding away, eight remaining OA guys plus Tobi's teammate John Grenier patrolling the front, and the other fifty of us packed in behind with the stupid yellow line rule under which we race in the amateurs. At one point on the backside you can see about a minute ahead, and they already had almost that much. Still, I wasn't panicked, as (a) they did not go on the hill, (b) there was 80k to go, and (c) OA had to be planning on sending more riders across at some point.

When we hit the hill at the end of lap one/start of lap two, the officials gave the time split at 2:00! The follow car, who had been busy honking at us and screaming about yellow line violations (which are all occurring way up front out of their vocal range) is supposed to go with the break if the gap is one minute or more, but they were asleep at the wheel. So the guy guns it by on the climb. The good news is this effectively ends enforcement of the yellow line rule, and now we can actually race. Fabio immediately lit it up, taking several of us right around the OA gang-block that was soft-pedaling up the climb, and he kept it going, attempting to organize some chasing on the rolling descent. He and I initially took long pulls, and the Cronoman joined us, as did Leo Devellian (CCB). Eventually Dougie got in the line, but he sort of just rolled through. Francis was not doing anything, there were no Sunapees (weird, as normally they are the best organized of the masters teams in our area), and Grenier and OA were just sitting on us, of course. About halfway around me, Timmy, and Eric were getting gassed, and it was obvious that were this tempo setting successful, the real beneficiaries would be everyone but us. Counters would surely come on the climb and we'd all get popped. So I called timeout for our team.

Fabio seemed pissed, as he was the most determined motor up there. We were on mostly descending by then anyway, and I did not expect the break to be gaining more time. We had to wait for the hill and try to split the field, so that at least if we were working our asses off in a chase, we wouldn't be towing every swinging dick in the group. When we got to the line, the gap was announced as four minutes! I was deflated. I thought overall the field had ridden lap two at a decent clip, yet we still lost huge ground. At this point, at least OA might get back in the race, as they would have thought their guy was safe. As it turned out, he had some sort of problem and had dropped out of the break and the race, but this did not get communicated to them, so they were blocking for nothing. Maybe some of them knew, as leading into the climb Hank Pfeifle set a high pace. I came off his wheel on the steeper part and tried to force it further, hoping for a split. At the top on the little flat spot Dougie and two others came around and started riding, but Pfeifle sat up, took his hands off the bars, and turned around to check the gap. When he did, he swerved over about three feet, collecting Mark Suprenaut (Team Type 1) who was sprinting around to get with Doug, and John Grenier (Fuji) who was covering. Soups never had a chance, as this was not a swap of wheels, Pfeifle rode straight into Mark's handlebars. Soups and Grenier were out with bike and body damage, but Hank got up and rejoined. The field had been split on the climb, but the crash took any cohesion out of the front, and it quickly came back together.

I don't remember everything after that, but I think the next lap Francis took off on the climb and there was nothing anyone could do about it. He rode away solo. Several riders, including me, tried to get breaks going on the backside of the course. Mine got nowhere, but Fabio countered and Pfeifle went with him, and they rode away. So now it was Tobi at four minutes, not sure if the unknown guy was with him or not, then Francis, then Fabio and Pfeifle a minute ahead of the pack heading up the climb the final time. The top five paying spots were all gone and secure. As on every lap but the first, I was able to climb at the front with the good riders for the first time in years, but by now my legs were smoked and getting away was a pipe dream. Duano, our sprinter, had already dropped out due to pain from a lingering groin tear. Timmy attacked repeatedly on the last lap, at one point getting a promising gap, but he was pretty tanked too. I made a last gasp effort to bring back two OA guys going into the corner leading onto the finishing road, School Street, and that left me on the verge of cramping. From then on it was just try to stay out of trouble in the high speed sprint. I though Sunapee would set up a train, but they didn't. I followed Mark Thompson down the left, but he kept getting cut off by leadout riders riders swinging off. Devellian took the table scraps prize for sixth over Jay Carrington (Cyclonauts) and Billy.

I still like this race. I still dislike the yellow line rule, or the way it is implemented as a restriction, but not consistently enforced. Good officials in some areas allow riders to move up safely as needed, and I think that's the way it has to be, rather than playing roulette with being made an (rare) example of and DQ'd. The last four laps of this event we were able to move freely and it was a lot of fun. Turtle Pond would be better with the finish on the hill in my opinion, but at least our race was safe, other than the incident caused by momentary inattention of one rider. Me personally, even though I'd planned to delay my fitness progression by a month or so this season, I feel better on the bike than I have in years. I've gone back to a lot of my old training methods, doing off the bike training in the gym, lots of cruise intervals, not running at all, and doing 90% of my training by myself. I guess all the little things are adding up. Rest week now. Thanks for reading.

Winning

15 years, 9 months, and 7 days. Prior to this past Saturday, July 10, 1994 was the last time I won a mass-start USCF race. Sure, I have won a few time trials, a duathlon overall, some running race age group stuff, and even two training races at Wompatuck to keep me motivated over the years, but a "real" weekend race win had eluded me. So naturally I'm pretty happy about winning the 45+ race at Ninigret this weekend.

The Cronoman gives me shit if I downplay the magnitude of races we do well in. But let's be realistic; Ninigret is only a notch or so above a training race. It's not like a downtown crit with lots of spectators that happens only once a year (as if we even have many of those left anymore). And the field Saturday was only 28 riders, about half what we had two weeks ago at the Chris Hinds race. The 45+ guys are fair weather I guess. A few of the strongest riders, notably Skip Foley and JONNY BOLD! elected not to race with us old derelicts, opting instead to do the more challenging 1/2/3 race. Nonetheless, the field was deep enough with high quality riders and this was a weekend race with prize money. It's a win, it counts to me. Ya-hoo!

The race report: This was the third time I've won a crit, and all of them have played out in similar fashion: fast early pace, a selection too big to be called a break moving off, and me slipping away from it in the waning laps to win alone. I guess that's my script. The last one back in 1994 was the Silver City Flyer. The other one was the Bike Link/Jiffy Lube Crit in Weymouth.

Just like those two, Saturday's race started out aggressively. Actually, this time I was the one who attacked at the gun. My reasoning was simple and two-pronged. One, keep warm. Two, if I didn't do it, someone else probably would. I'd had a good week of training, but Friday I was totally beat and just wanted to eat. I did not ride, did not stretch, did not go to the gym. I have been taking multi-week holidays from concentrated refined sugar, but Friday I hit the machine twice, once for Animal Crackers and once for a Hershey bar. Dinner was a grilled cheese. Not exactly training table food. I was weak.

Saturday was chilly but not as wet as forecast. Coach Cronoman was signed up for the 10:00 cat 3/4 race... The 45+ was at 11. I thought about going down early and warming up in the 3/4, so I pre-kitted with wool shorts, leg warmers, etc. But I did not get there in time, in fact I pulled in around 10:25, so I was pressed to be ready for the 45+. I almost just said f-it and pinned my number on my heavy jersey and went out there in warm clothes. Then I said to myself "you're never going to win that way." I put on my skinsuit, got on the trainer, doing the best warm up I could in the amount of time that I had. I knew I'd be cold in shorts when I stopped, so I decided right then to attack at the gun. One of the great things about Ninigret is you can park right near the starting line and hear the announcer. Paul was playing a fantastic selection of tunes as well, huge bonus. Thanks to Paul and thanks to Arc-en-Ciel for hiring him.

I rushed over to the line at the final call to staging and we observed a moment of silence in memory of the race's namesake, Rick Newhouse. Then we went. The only one who came with me was Dave Kellogg (Arc-en-Ciel), but the rest of the field was strung out, not just sitting there. Dave is on good form and I knew he was not going to commit to working hard with me unless he felt this was the right move, so I just kept pulling. I looked back and knew they weren't going to let us go but I persisted because I wanted to get warm, and also in hopes of wounding anyone who wasn't ready for a full gas start. But within a few laps we were reeled in.

Other moves went and I tried to sit on wheels. Eventually I could not and the Cronoman covered a few. I have trouble remembering the order of things but somewhere they announced there would be four prime laps in a row for Newport Storm beer. I sat on all the moves just in case they turned into breaks, but told myself "you are not here for beer." I really wanted a good placing, and wasn't going to chase primes. Then they had one for $20 cash, but that did not draw me out either. Like I said, I get the order messed up, but I was recovering near the back and the field basically split, with me and the Cronoman in the wrong half. I've been riding with Eric long enough to be able to tell when he's stuffed, and this was one of those times, so I bolted out to cross the gap. Very similar to Chris Hinds, although this time nobody came with me. It took me half a lap but I got cemented onto the group, and looking back it appeared that this was it. Two guys were struggling and disappeared. This left Kellogg, Thomas Francis (Bike Barn), Joe Rano (GearWorks), Bill Mark (NBX), John Stonebarger (Bike Link), Tobi Schultze (Fuji), Tyler Munroe (CCB), and me.

At halfway they had a $100 cash prime on offer. I was tempted, but before I really had time to think of a plan Tobi and Francis had us lined out at a speed which showed they meant business. I was riding my Race Lite Aero alloy wheels with clinchers pumped to 100 psi, on my cheap aluminum bike. After all, it's only Ninigret so I don't use my carbon wheels or frame. In the second to last corner there are a few big cracks that have been patched over and in the wet my back wheel was jumping over a good three or four inches if I went in there hot. Very disconcerting and the other guys seemed to be OK so it put me at a disadvantage, not that I can sprint well anyway. So those two rode off to contest the prime and I honestly don't know which one took it. And they kept going, holding a gap of at least ten seconds on the other six of us. By this time they were coming up on and lapping small groups that made up the shattered remnants of the main field. So even though these two were among the better sprinters in the lead group, they tried to hold us off, probably thinking they could get a little draft here and there from the lapped riders.

I had not been killing myself in the break, at first because I was recovering from the bridge effort, and later because the others were always positioning for primes and willing to do the effort. We were not under pressure from any chase behind either. But with Schultze and Francis riding away, I went to the front for some pacemaking to at least keep us level. Later we picked up a lapped Todd Buckley (Arc-en-Ciel) and of course being one of the the best motors in the field, he took his place at the front of the break and did the work for his teammate Kellogg. Eventually the lead duo threw up the white flag, but they probably spent more time out there in a wasted effort than they'd have liked.

Things got moderately confusing as we were lapping riders (who of course are entitled to integrate). By then race announcer Paul called out 5 laps to go. It got quiet but at 4 to go, Stonebarger and Rano made a move, but nobody was letting that happen. After a few more laps of shadow boxing we finally got the bell, one to go. I'd been looking for opportunities to get away but all these guys were good, and I wasn't sure what to do. And just like at Chris Hinds, I somehow ended up on the front as we took the bell. I did not want to have to follow the sprinter's pace through the second to last turn, as it was still wet and I was continuing to get squirrelly there. On the far end of the course, I was leading at a slow pace, like you would ride if you were on the front of a match sprint, except I wasn't looking over my shoulder. I went to the left (not normally the good line, but we were going slow) and gradually increased my pace in order to take away the jump of the others without totally gassing myself.

The backstretch was tailwind so I took it up another notch and I heard Paul Curley (Gearworks), who was lapped, on my wheel asking me if I was lapped. I glanced over my shoulder and was shocked to see that we had almost thirty meters on the other seven, who must have been watching each other. Time to check out. Full gas, tiptoed through the slippery turn, all out up the short straightway. On the homestretch I got to the far left edge (the wind was from the right) and emptied the tank. I'd looked back after the last turn and they were coming but my cushion was large. Paul just stayed on my wheel. At the end I sat down and spun for the line, getting in a second or two before Bill Mark sprinted across for second.

I'm still surprised they allowed me to slip away. But you know, that's bike racing. I've been on the other end of weird shit plenty of times too. And I was ready to take advantage of the situation. I am pretty happy with the way my form has been coming along. I try to continually refine and improve all aspects of my preparation, a lot of little things adding up. Sixteen years is a looooooonnnnnnnngggg time. I did not even own a computer back then. I think Winning magazine was still being published. Of course, I did not race hardly at all from 1998 to 2002. I was up over 200 pounds for a while. Since finishing night school in 2003, I've slowly and steadily worked my way back to decent fitness. I went back into my logs to find the date of the Silver City win. I sure as hell don't ride as fast as I used to, at least as far as the average speed of my training rides goes. But I've learned a lot. There is a lot more good information about training available today. I've also been fortunate to work with and train with a number of good people, both through friendship and professional arrangements. I've gone back to doing a lot of things that I used to do 16 years ago too, like more intense training off the bike. This goes against a lot of conventional wisdom, but I do it in addition to riding my bike, not in place of it. And it seems to work for me. It also meant a lot to me to finally win a race in a Team BOB jersey, in this my 7th year with the club. I have great teammates, including Eric and Timmy, who've been on all four teams I've ever belonged too, going back 24 years. Our team captain, Duano, could not be there Saturday because his mother had suffered a serious stroke and was hospitalized. I was relieved when he called me and told me she had improved a lot over the course of the day, and he was really psyched to hear about my win. It was too close to put my hands up, but I guess I should update the sidebar anyway. Thanks for reading.

When you least expect it

It's been an entire week with no post, so here goes. I've written a bit about how this winter, pain in my right hip impeded my ability to run. The irritation was clearly soft tissue, all up around the iliac crest on my right side. During the Boston Prep 16 miler, this got pretty severe, but I had no choice but to keep on going. If I stopped running for a week or so, most of my symptoms would disappear, only to return as soon as I tried to run again. Riding the bike and even doing other stuff in the gym involving strenuous hip-flexor movements did not cause me any issues. Weird.

I got a lot of massages, and my glute medius and TFL on that side were sure enough pretty tight. My hips and ITB have always been that way, and I'd been neglecting them, but the massages didn't fix anything. So I started seeing a chiropractor. She thought I was mostly OK, and has helped me with my neck, but no miracles. I wasn't running hardly at all by March, and with bike racing season around the corner, I pretty much decided the hell with running this year. I was thinking maybe I had a small muscle tear or something and it might need time to heal. I didn't bother trying to get an MRI because if I stopped running, the pain went away, and I doubted any imaging would be conclusive. All my running and duathlon goals for this spring were going to be unattainable due to my lack of running base, so it was time to race bikes.

Then at my last chiro visit Dr. Sue got a good crack out of my left SI, but the right just wouldn't budge. My LMT has had to work hard in that area so we decided I'd try more of that and I went on my way. As everyone knows, the weather has been favorable, and I've been putting in a lot of hours on the bike. Last weekend I was tired but managed a solid four hours solo on Saturday, out in the wind, dodging roads closed by flooding. Then on Sunday the Cronoman made room in his busy social schedule to do some hill work with me in the area where Hilljunkie does his lunch rides. We got an early start, riding from Nashua over the famed "Rutledge Ridge" (Marro names the cols in his area after whomever has dropped him there the most in the past, and Brett put in a good performance on this one decades ago) aka Tater Road. Then we went to New Boston and climbed straight up Meetinghouse, which turns into Joe English Road, another good climb. We were running out of time and had to really high-tail back to Nashua in a two-man TT, ending with three very solid hours.

Why the hurry? Well our club's main sponsor, Goodale's Bike Shop was holding their annual spring sale. If you don't know Goodale's, it's one of the largest bike shops in the country. As sponsored riders, we assist at the sale (and prepare for retirement age supplementary income jobs) by working as "greeters," helping customers get bikes out the door, load them in cars, etc. As a lazy-assed cyclist who strictly follows the "never stand when you can sit, never sit when you can lie down" school of off the bike recovery, I wasn't looking forward to being on my feet from noon to 5, but you gotta do what you gotta do. I showed up for "work," touching base with longtime friend Rockin' Retail Ronnie, the store manager. So I'm hanging around waiting for some action, and I started chatting with the folks from CPTE, or Center for Physical Therapy and Exercise, who had a demo booth set up inside the store for promotion. Well introduction led to discussion and within five minutes, Patsy Wolber, who is a physical therapist and former track racer was evaluating my hip. After confirming that my right SI joint was indeed not moving properly (i.e. not at all), she continued to check out the effects, and explained to me how the immobility in the joint was creating a functional leg length discrepancy, as in making my right leg seem longer. Her idea was that this was causing my glute medius and other hip flexors to over-fire when I try to run.

The next step, rather than standing and getting sore legs, was heading straight to the therapy table where Patsy showed me some techniques and exercises I could use to try to regain mobility in the joint. I can't thank her enough, because it was awesome. The difference that a knowledgeable person experienced in working with athletes can make is incredible. Not that I'm cured overnight; I'm not, but at least now I think I can be confident in where my problem is coming from, and start a plan to fix it. I think this has existed with me to varying degrees for years. I've always felt a little "crooked" but nobody has ever diagnosed it like this before, and it all seems to make sense. I've been focused entirely on the soft tissue issues that are the effect, not the cause. Of course it's possible that this is not my chief or only issue causing the pain, but it's still worth working on. So I should be on the floor doing those movement right now. If I lived up closer to that way, I'd be going to CPTE on a regular basis for professional treatment. If you in southern New Hampshire or anywhere accessible, I highly recommend seeing Patsy, as she knows cycling. Thanks for reading.

In honor of the Ronde

The Tour of Flanders was of course available for viewing via webcast this past Sunday, but I didn't watch it. All this year, I haven't done any long rides. By April of 2009, I'd already put in a few big days, but not this year. Getting worried, I decided it was important to do an all day ride, and what better way to celebrate the racing of the Ronde?

My plans got a little messed up when Saturday, after racing at Ninigret, I headed to Stedman's to meet up with Il Bruce before heading over to Mews for a few pints of Youngs. Who do I run into in the store but my former neighbor Markie Mark, doing his thing as the Shimano rep on the way home from his own Ninigret exploits. We discussed Sunday riding plans and like I said in the last post, I don't turn down opportunities to ride with Mark's brother Frankie, so I changed up my original plans to take advantage of the offer.

There's a little irony here. Mark is ten years younger than I am, but he's been riding just as long, and as we know at a much, much, much higher level than I ever got near. But even before he or Frankie signed with Team Saturn, about fifteen years ago Mark moved into my neighborhood upon getting married. At that time, I was working the evening shift at my old job. Mark was going to school while racing as a domestic pro on the various teams his old IME squad had morphed into (Saab, Bolla Wines). Since I was available for daytime riding, and we lived just a kilometer apart, we trained together often. I learned a lot from my young mentor during this time. Mark always emphasized that long rides should start out easy, with big efforts saved for the end, and not the other way around. After all, that's how long races play out, right? We'd sometimes only cover 32-34 miles in the first two hours, but things would pick up later, and any structured efforts he had planned would only come after four hours or so of "warm up." It's a strategy I've retained to this day, and it gets me through events like D2R2. Going out too hard and then slogging the latter half of a ride at a slower and slower pace is not only painful, but it's unproductive from a training standpoint. Yet I know a lot of good riders who still do this.

On Sunday though, it was a little chilly, and I did not leave my house on time to meet Mark. He now lives about 10 miles west of here, and that's the direction we were supposed to be heading to meet Frankie, who was coming the other way from out near Worcester. So I was hitting it pretty hard in an effort to get out there. I think Mark had left his house about the same time I left mine, so he would meet up with them first. I got just past Bellingham, almost 1:30 out, when I saw their train coming the other way, flying down a shallow descent. I'd already been going at more of a three hour pace, but when I turned around to catch on, it took about two minutes at ~500 watts to close the gap. There was a slight tailwind and as noted last week, we did not slow down for anything. I was just sitting on the whole time, but again, this was well above my normal effort level for the first half of an all day ride.

By the time we got back to Easton, I had 82k (51 miles) and 2:28 on the watch. Funny as it took me 1:27 or something to head out to meet them. Mark needed to head back so we bid the locomotive goodbye, turning west again, pretty much the way my ride had begun. At least it was back into the breeze. If I'd gone on toward Plymouth then I'd be finishing into it, uggh.

Mark went home and I headed north on 115 solo. Easter Sunday is a great day to ride as traffic was pretty light. Normally I avoid 115 as it is narrow and bumpy but this day I stayed on it all the way past Millis, then took a fork left toward Holliston. Eventually I looped back east, doing the reverse of the old Wednesday night Hagen smackdown ride. Out of water, I went up 27 in Sherborn in search of fluids, but everything was closed for the holiday. Eventually I found a gas station in South Natick on route 16. From there I went across through Wellesley, Needham, and Dover before heading back home through Medfield and Walpole. Around the five hour mark I was paying for my earlier efforts, fading quite a bit, but possibly maintaining enough effort to still call it "training." When I finally rolled in the driveway, I had 6:18 riding time, 192k (~118 miles).

News of Cancellara's win at the Ronde already filled my inbox. Much was made of his dropping Boonen while riding in the saddle, but my take on it was a little different. Now I only watched a three minute clip of "the move" but to me it looked like Cancellara was just clearly stronger, setting the pace up the first 2/3 of the climb. Then when it got to the steeper part near the top he let Boonen pull through. Whenever you are climbing with a stronger rival, beware of this move. Cancellara then goes to what looks like a super-easy gear. I don't know what he had on there, but you can see him sitting and spinning, but they're barely moving. Boonen dropped the pace when he was on the front, giving Fabian even more time to wind up his spring. Then near the top he just unwinds it and rides away.

Anyhow, I looked at the finish time. I think it was 6:24, for 262K! Unbelievable. That is 70k more than I rode in that same time. Over cobbles and climbs. That is why they call these things monuments. It is truly amazing what the Pro riders do. Think about that the next time you're calling so and so a shit bum because he finished 25th in the third group. I've never ridden 262k in one sitting in my entire life. Hell, that's a good week of training. On to Paris-Roubaix. Thanks for reading.

Dynasty in the Making

I was fortunate to be able to crash the Easter Sunday ride of New England bike racing's first family. Everyone knows and loves Markie, but if you ever get a chance to ride with Frankie, you take it. Frankie was and in my mind still is THE MAN. He is second wheel here behind Uncle Mark, but trust me, most of the time he was on the front, and we were FLYING. His boys, twins Cameron and Brendan, were on junior gears, but they already exhibit the smoothness and polish of riders with years of experience. Frankie was taking them around 100 miles from their home in Leicester to Grandma's house in Plymouth, and me and Marky met up with them on the road and tagged along for a bit. I didn't pull once. Thanks for reading.