Krod. 3rd place at the Hilbert Enduro. Jesus. Not just his happening good looks and Weezer-oriented sense of style, but JESUS, you'd think unplugging from your former life and plugging back into a bike-centric riding berzerk would make you a shoe-in to win a race like Hilbert. But apparently it's only good enough for third.
Must not have been enough downhill. Photo cred to Jude Monoco Ortiz, and by cred I mean street cred.
But apparently standing on your feet at the shop all day, racing 4 times/week, and generally exceeding the standards by which overtraining is usually defined has worked for Jay. 1st Pro. Pro as in Professional. Professional as in, gets paid to race, son. Time to cast aside those silly goals of education and learn yourself aboard the pain train instead.
Other stuff happened down there too, I presume, I'm just not sure what. I have a hard time keeping up these days. So let's check the haps from the mailbag in an effort to provide some sense of clarity to life away from reality, reality away from life, and so forth.
From: Big John To: BRC
I can officially give that one an oh hell yes. While professional divas racing their speedcycles around Europe isn't always the kind of man shit worthy of this blog, The Tourmalet most certainly is, every single time. Tune in on TH. Let it snow.
From: Nolan To: BRC
Pump tracks kick ass.
Again, an enthusiastic and official, Oh hell yes. And also a personal note to check in with SOT2.0 about just what the hell is going on with our own pumptrack in the making up in Greene. I've got twins coming that I'd like to teach a few things to and learn a few things from, and it's possible that I'll need some berms and whoops to really succeed.
Personally, I've been training a wee bit, and by that I don't just mean peeing in the woods. Indeed, I've been doing some intervals, some long rides, thinking about what kind of mindset a person has to be in on the start line to really outperform their own ability and get around a 101 miler in under 8 hours. It's been hot. My latest training technique: thunderstorms. Nothing really strikes up a good interval cadence quite like apocolyptic thunder and an outright downpour. Plus, the days are never quite so cool as they are when the skies finally let loose and wet this place down. Brilliant, right? At least until I lose focus, reckon ahead to the days when I'll have a bob trailer of some kind (make, model, and acceptable riding terrain yet to be approved by my wife) and start power sliding singletrack instead of doing proper work. It's nice to have a dedicated mud bike, just for this kind of "training." God save my future children.
The soundtrack has changed only slightly, The Sweet Part of the City. http://youtu.be/W5DSKPG7Ju4
Good stuff. And somehow, perhaps by divine measure, The Hold Steady will be here at the Paramount on September 2nd, a critical and perfect 36 hours before the gun goes off at the SM100. Great potential looms.
Now if you'll pardon me, I've got a two-fer to attend to. And, at least for now, I'm not talking about my twins to be. So keep an eye on the sky for the next storm and you'll know where to find me.
Keep looking up, up, up.