Confession

I took Flintstones Vitamins once but the horrible aftertaste was a side affect I wasn't willing to live with. I never did it after that one time, but I had to try it because I wasn't getting the vitamins and minerals I needed to be competitive in the Rialto Youth Soccer League.

On Saturday night I witnessed one of those rare moments in life where everything happens the way it should. While walking down sleepy Grand Ave in Los Olivos, a speeding BMW swerved into the on-coming lane pointed in the direction of some innocent kids, (scratch the word innocent), some kids hanging out near the curb (Oakdale style). The driver acted as if he were going to run them down, but with Jerry Rice-like reflexes, swerved back into his lane and went on his way with a hurricane of dust and straw in his wake. Greg Pleiss and I looked at each other in amazement. Before I could say, “Did you see that asshole?”, the planets aligned and a hidden cop car pealed out of the sky. In an instant, we were watching COPS Los Olivos.

The driver was young (junior college age) and so were his female passengers. The Statey cuffed the felon, but didn’t knock his prisoner’s head on the outside of his squad car while shoving him in the back seat. Bummer. Sloppy police work if you ask me. No doubt the influence of our current governor. But I digress – the important part is that, if for just one evening, there was one less BMW driver on the planet and the sleepy town of Los Olivos was safe.

Back to Dinner...

On Saturday night, Trevor, Greg, Christie & I dined at the Los Olivos Cafe’. The Pleiss’ had eaten there a few years ago (before they were the Pleiss’) and since then the café has been the stage for a few scenes of the movie Sideways. No one in our party refused a glass of wine, but we couldn’t help but notice the lack of vino on the table of self-proclaimed wine aficionados, JHK and Mrs. JHK. No red wine, no white win, no pink wine - just a pink t-shirt worn by the eventual runner-up of Sunday’s XC Race.

I would have ordered my own pink t-shirt that evening if the San Marcos Motel in Buellton had wireless internet. They did have a hundred cable TV channels (including HBO & ESPN), so I made Trevor watch Sherman’s March. Sherman was a bad dude. I secretly vowed to race the next day’s event with the same passion and furry of the great general, burning or destroying everything or everyone in my path. Instead, I fell a little short – landing somewhere between Sherman’s March to the Sea and a full Confederate Army Surrender. Fifth Singlespeed O/A. I’ll take it.

World News

The witch hunt continues

Ryder is 2!

It seems like just yesterday I was three-quarters through a bottle of wine and working on bikes in my plush Raven Way garage when Denise waddled in and misdiagnosed her water breaking as an uncontrollable pregnant-pressured bladder. Destiny told me to skip my ride that evening and spend some time working on, a bottle of wine, and badly neglected bikes. I was numbly on my way to finishing both jobs when I stopped to mop up the garage floor, pack an overnight bag and drive my contracting wife to Redlands Community Hospital: a drive that she chauffeured on many occasions due to my string of random injuries, aliments and surgeries. Even pickled, I was familiar with the drive from our Grand Terrace home to the hospital.

Back labor forced Denise to stand on the cold delivery room floor through her painful contractions, and me to serve as her pillar. (Note: the one and only time I’ll refer to myself as a pillar). Eventually all that standing, all that heavy breathing and all those massive contractions gave way to all that wine and all that void of dinner in my stomach. Spotting a potential embarrassing moment that I’d never live down (interesting fact - woman faint, men pass out), soon-to-be Grandma Suzie assumed the pillar position while soon-to-be Grandma Cindy assumed that a Del Taco combo burrito would get me through the rest of the birthing. Sure as the sun rises, the from-concentrate beans and oatmeal meat gave me the strength and nourishment to see Ryder born (viewed from the dry end of the bed) as the sun rose on April 21, 2005. Including everyone in the delivery room like Denise, our family, the doctor, the nurses and of course, Ryder, I owe those precious moments to Dan. I think I may have just figured out Ryder’s strong obsession for beans.

Great Grandma Joyce holds the birthday boy. Mint chocolate chip birthday cake, cheese cake or beans? “Yes please,” says Ryder. He loves his sweets and his beans equally.


From the left - Evan, Ryder, James, Brandon & little Destry kick it backyard style.



Attached in the email reminding me that he’ll be in the states on Monday, my good Czech friend, Robert, sent some photos of his new custom painted Prodoli road bike. Apparently decades of communists oppression helped produce a storm of custom-painted creativity. Czech out the detail to the water bottle cages, seat tube & top tube. It’s like a Trek Project One. I call it a Commie One. Anyway, the bike looks as fast as a Russian Mig.

The only thing this bike is missing is this.

Leaves of 3, Let Me Be

My trophy from Sea Otter: Poison Oak. My left forearm got the worst of it, but even after nearly two weeks, little spots keep popping up on the rest of my body.

Here’s my daily routine since getting the poison oak: get up from a horrible night’s sleep and start drinking lots of coffee to level out the 8 AM Benadryl. By noon, I’ve changed the dressing on my arm at least twice and the morning Benadryl buzz has worn off, so it’s time to take another. At 2 pm I’m a complete zombie from all the drugs and from coming down off the coffee. By 4 or 5 the drugs are starting to wear off again, but I’m usually able to get on the bike by that point, so the discomfort is temporarily replaced by the high of riding. After the ride, I come home, shower and reapply calamine lotion to all my spots and sometimes take another Benadryl, chased by, at the very least, a couple of beers to kill the pain. Even so, I still can’t sleep well because the goo seeping out of my arm wets the dressing enough that it wakes me and I reapply calamine & dressing. Lately I’ve been cutting the toes out of old tube socks and wear those to bed like a poor man’s arm warmers. And the day starts all over again…

The outbreak on my legs is strategically positioned on both sides of my inner thigh and either rubs on my pants & shorts or on the outside of my saddle while I’m riding. The spots on my back are right where my heart rate monitor is supposed to go and the blisters near my armpits are where all my shirts lay against my body. But the left forearm – oh, the left forearm. God help me.

What Would Jens Voigt Do?

I've Been Busy

Since the big New Year's freeze of '07, I've been busy. Too busy to blog at least. Just working, hanging out with the kid & riding. And a little racing here and there too.

Here's some good stuff of Ryder.

December of '06 at a cross race in Torrance. Ryder had a lot more fun than I did. At this race I punctured while running fifth (again).

Ryder likes hippos. Especially ones that swim and are the size of compact cars.

He likes snakes too.

Back at the cross race - Denise is responsible for the feed and Ryder is responsible for packing up the trainer after I'm done warming up. I'm responsible for flatting. Everyone does their job well.


Back at the zoo - "Echo, echo, echo, echo, echo!"

New Stuff from Brandon Bird

Battle of the Heroes

"I always pick Dauber, on the account of his speed attacks," says Brandon. Brilliant.

T-Mas

That's all I can muster for now. Photos of Ryder's 2nd Birthday, racing & random B.S. soon.

The Inconvenient Truth

We got snowed in today.


My orange was frost bitten.



The pool froze over & the grass died.

When I was a kid we had one toaster. It was metal and it was shiny and I think it out-lasted me in our house in Rialto. That toaster lived through several electric chord replacements and tens of thousands of bread and English muffins. Not long ago Denise & I got a plastic black toaster, probably from Target and from day one, it never worked right. Because I’m a cheap-ass I refused to buy a replacement for the plastic piece of junk until it actually broke. It finally broke, but only one side of quit toasting, so because I’m a cheap-ass, I kept using it. I just had to toast one piece of bread at a time.

After about a week of spending twice the amount of time trying to make & eat breakfast, I concluded that time was money and decided that I’d treat myself to an early Hanukkah gift and buy a new toaster. It just so happens that I had a $10-off gift card to Target (the irony), so at lunch one day, Brett & I braved the holiday crowds, unemployed & stay-at-home moms & set out to buy a new toaster. Our trip was two-fold – also planning to pick up a Christmas gift for the gift drive at work. As it turns out, they had the same piece of shit toaster that I was replacing, but to the right of it stood two toasters. Toasters built the way toasters were supposed to be built – constructed from metal. I chose the dull finished toaster, thinking that it was less likely to show finger prints than the traditional shiny toaster. And what a choice it was. I’m a week into using my new toaster & I’ve had nothing but perfect toast. I’m even craving toast for lunch, dinner & fourth meal. What a difference metal makes.

For the gift drive, Brett, Jenna & I went in thirds on a plastic big wheel.

The new toaster appears to be bullet proof. If you look closely you can see my reflection in the toaster...



The Old P.O.S. Toaster: Who says once you go black, you never go back?

Speaking of rip-offs. Wednesday was Denise’s birthday & 1-800-Flowers screwed up and didn’t deliver the flowers I ordered for her until close to 7 pm last night. Sounds like I should call David Horowtiz or Stone Phillips. Now that I’ve asked around, I’m the fourth person that got hosed by 1-800-Flowers. Moral of the story. Don't send flowers.

I just ran across this photo of an early fall ride that we did up to Poop Out: A signature Johnson/Hepenstal ride, except no one was severely injured and I don't remember any flats.

Here's proof that it's not how flat you can whip it, it's who you know. Eddie Arnett & John Kerr hooked me up with a MBA cover shot & a few inside. I'm the midget on the left with the red rectangle around him.

TCB (Takin' Care of Business)

So much for summer tan lines...

We took Ryder to the beach once this year. He loved it.

Now we're talking about taking him to the snow for the first time. I'm sure he'll love that too.

It's Friday night. I actually got a lot done today. Got my allergy shots cleared with the anti-doping people at USA Cycling, got my iBike partially hooked up, got Denise's iPod Shuffle running and working & I'm currently downloading music while I'm typing this blog. Risky business running two such programs at once with this POS Dell. It appears as if I'm getting a lap top for Xmas, so that gift may lend itself to more frequent blog updates once I get it hooked up wireless. Oh, I almost forgot. I got Denise's Xmas gift online today too. TCB!

Spent 45 minutes on the Power Cranks this morning. I can't decide which is worse, the discomfort of those things or the bordem of them while on the trainer.

Doing the Raincross ride tomorrow morning. Hopefully we'll all stay out of the potholes.


Speaking of the Raincross ride, just in case you forgot, this is what suffering looks like.

Well damn. Something inside me suddenly wants to update this poor neglected thing, yet I’m failing to come up with anything relevant. I could write a long review on the long Redlands Xmas Parade. Nah, living through it was enough. Just think about watching TV, only instead of actually watching a show, you’re watching two straight hours of commercials. That’s the Redlands Xmas Parade. It seemed tolerable last year. At least Ryder enjoyed it.

I could write about the Death Cab show that Denise, Josh, Jeannie & I went to on Tuesday night. Okay. The Bren Events Center at UCI (no, not that UCI – the University of California at Irvine. That UCI), which is their basketball arena. It was a pretty good place to see a show. It’s not too big and even sitting near the top, we weren’t too far away. Some people apparently paid admission just to hang out and not watch the show. Like the two hags sitting behind us, who wouldn’t shut up. I thought they were filming a talk show in the row behind us. Then there was the girl, whose name was Scooch according to her brother, sitting in the row in front of us. She filmed the entire show with a small hand-held video camera. It’s probably already up on Utube.

The show itself was just so-so. Denise & Jeannie thought it was good. Don’t get me wrong, they played some kick-ass stuff. It was just too far and few between and the Pogues show may have ruined all shows for me, since they're such a great live band. I thought the opening band kicked ass. They’re called Jenny Lewis with The Watson Twins. I bought one of their CDs and it’s pretty good. They’re kind of like Patsy Cline meets Jack White or the White Stripes.

Other than that I’ve been riding the hell out of my bikes. Four to 6 hour rides on the weekend and hour plus trainer workouts during the week. Some dumb-ass forgot to call out a pot hole on the Raincross ride last Saturday resulting in several flats and destroyed wheels. There was probably about 50 or more of us single-file going full throttle and BAM! Water bottles flying all over the damn place. Luckily no one was killed. Oh, and I got chased by a dog on the Sunday ride.

I can’t get enough of The Valley of The Shadow of Death by The Tossers. I’ve probably listened to it ten times in the last two days. Plus they’re working on a new album that will be out early next year.

I wonder what Ryder is doing right now?

Finally, something newsworthy

A spy photo of George and his National Championship Jersey courtesy of Greg Johnson. Greg was Georgie's driver over the weekend during the newly-crowned National Champ's whirlwind Southern California promo tour. I wonder if my name ever came up in conversation as they drove all over the damn place?

It's Christmas time, which means my mom is hounding us all for our wish lists. I emailed her a list of some stuff that she could purchase for me on-line. Here's her reply:

"Okay. If your other items are to be ordered you better get a move on it.
Love, Mother"

So, I guess I better get a move on it. Later.

I've got a lot to say...

but no time to say it.

Of course, this speaks volumes.

Work, a little bike riding & life in general has taken precedence over blogging & it appears as if I’m not the only one. Country Jimmy & Christie are slacking too. At least I’m in good company.

What’s new? Not much. In one week we’ve had 3 newsworthy stories near our place: A fire on Morton Peak (a few houses burned down), a police stand-off around the corner & a dead body popped up in a field off of Sunset & Ford. You’d think I lived in the L.A. area with news like that. The good news is that the pool gets its virgin swim tonight. More bad news is that Denise has gone back to school, but the silver lining in that deal is that Ryder gets to spend his days with Cousin Alex. More good news is next Tuesday I’m doing a photo shoot with Mountain Bike Action. The bad news is they’ll probably make me wear some gay baggy Fox clothing instead of our team kit.

As far as racing goes, Brian Head went pretty well. I nearly made the main split on the opening 4-mile climb to Brian Head Peak. Actually, I was within inches of making the split, but then Barry Wicks blew by me, I jumped on his wheel & that acceleration was just enough to make me blow. Regardless, I finally found myself in fairly good company for much of the race. Some pretty stout dudes, like Wicks & Steve Larsen popped off on the opening climb before I did. Again, at least I was in good company. A weekend later, I did a stage race at Rim Nordic, in which the Hill Climb & Dirt Crit went well, but the actual XC race was a disaster. It was one of the great breakdowns of my lifetime.

Now the plan is to put in a serious CX effort. I’m dropping grams off my cross bike & McKovich has me in the gym building muscle for dismounts & barriers. My real motivation for racing cross is so I can see Ryder ring his new cowbell lap after agonizing lap. Ryder has a fever & the only cure is cowbell. He loves ringing it & I can’t get enough of him, so it’s a perfect situation. And I get to race my bike too.

That’s it. Here’s some photos.

Fact: 4 bike cases, gear bags, backpacks & passengers will not fit in a minivan or a Dodge Durango. You must upgrade to a Suburban.


Could they really mean, Phonak Staff Entrance?

I can check going to a Pogues show on my list of life-long goals. After nearly a decade of not playing in the U.S., with Shane on vocals, the boys from county hell finally buried the hatchet & sobered up long enough to make it to the west coast in October. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that Shane's liver holds up until then.


Someone else out there has the same Suffer tattoo as I do. What the hell?

I've been doing more of this kind of suffering these days.

I ran across this from a few years ago. Turner tows the line & I'm pretty sure that's Zuke third wheel back. Looks painful.

Bikes, Babies & being a Bike Riding Baby

On Friday, my sister & Joey had a baby by the name of Destry Joseph Lanza. I like Joey's shirt.



Ryder is very happy to have a new cousin.


Soon, Ryder & I will be doing this...


... here.

Well, we did it. Trevor, Josh, Christie, Joy & I ventured to the town that Redford built to race our bikes. The outcome is/was mixed, depending on who you ask, how you look at it & what you believe. Having recently suffered a 2-week sinus infection, the cards, which are already stacked against me, were stacked against me, this time in a Pinochle deck. A lap-and-a-half into the 4-lap massacre, I sat up (again) & called it a day (if not a season), yet kept riding my bike at a pre-ride pace. The number of broken souls scattered throughout the mostly single-track race course became greater around every bend & confirmed that just finishing this one was somewhat of an achievement – even if it meant doing it at a snail’s pace. Now, I can sit here & write all kinds of excuses on why I just couldn’t buck up & suffer through the pain & discomfort, & why I finished 67 of 84 (those behind me were mostly DNFs), but I won’t. My Pro-class peer, Nick Martin sums it up best…

“If you have had the privilege to race in a Pro XC you know how crazy it is to break through the top 20.... It has taken me two full seasons to finally make the jump. If you hestitate for one moment or start to show any sign of weakness, there are 5 guys waiting to blow by you and take your spot. Everything has to click...”

Things bike related haven’t clicked much at all this year & they weren’t about to start on Saturday. As I sat in the Deer Valley First-Aid tent being treated for what may or may not have flown up my nose on my fourth & final lap, all I could think about was Ryder & how all this suffering just doesn’t do the trick for me anymore. Maybe it’s A.D.D., but the next thought that popped into my head was, getting my bike ready for Sunday’s Short Track. Seconds later – I was wondering what Ryder was doing at that very moment. And then it clicked. It, being the final latch on bike case that Johnson had lent me for the Park City trip. By 9:00 AM on Sunday morning, my bike was packed & I was officially a NORBA Nat’l spectator. The Canuck sure stuck it to ‘em on Sunday & I watched it from the sidelines. I would have been a spectator anyway because everyone, but the top 8 got pulled – making over 75-percent of the Pro Men’s field a spectator, but that's Short Track racing for you.

I could go on & on about how many times my race schedule has changed since Saturday, but I won’t, because it will change many times - just in the time it takes you to read this self absorbing blog. Sulking aside – let’s talk about the non-race-related stuff that went on around NORBA number 4.

Remember when a family could pack up everything but the kitchen sink in a minivan for a weekend away? Those days are gone apparently. The affects of big government beared its ugly head on the fit, form & function of the minivan. Upon our arrival at the SLC Advantage Rent-A-Car desk, the bleached blond behind the counter informed me that a Dodge Carravan wouldn’t be big enough for 4 bikes & bodies. She suggested a Durango & I said, nay, insisting a Durango wasn’t any bigger than a Carravan. We tried to sell me on stow-and go seating & after 10 minutes of trying to cram 4 bike cases, 8 bags & 4 humans into the thing I celebrated my one & only victory of the weekend. We up-graded to a Suburban & spacious as it was, it was still a tight fit. The thing was dope though, in every sense of the word, & so we rolled-deep through Park City for a weekend.

Speaking of our Suburban… wait, I’ll let Christie tell this story.

For what space we lacked in our rental car, we more than made up for in our condo. It was huge: 2 stories, 2 bedrooms, 4 beds, 3 sofa beds, an infinate amount of closets, 3 bathrooms & one fridge that didn’t work. I wasted a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, but that was a small price to pay for such a big pad. Oh, the best part, we got to watch OLN all weekend, which meant watching other people (other than myself), who just couldn’t deliver.

The spacious condo & its bunk fridge (pictured on the other side of Trevor's bald head).

Delta, Delta, Delta, can I screw you, screw you, screw you? As in charging us each 100 bucks to ship our bikes from SLC back to Ontario. Did they charge the fat-ass in the row behind me $100 extra so he could over-flow into seats A & C? I’m sorry, but my bike & case only weighed 48 pounds & I saw a few passengers that were carrying that much extra weight in their mid-section. I bet they had to upgrade from a minivan to a Suburban too.

Of course, blood doping, EPO, steroids & the frequency of drug testing was a big topic of conversation over the weekend & interestingly enough Todd Wells, who was absent from Park City, had this to say on his website the other day:

“This morning Winston was running around the room crazy so I decided to let
him out. Once he got out there he started barking like crazy. I ignored it for a
little while but then I decided to see what all the noise was about. USADA was
waiting at the front door to watch me pee in a cup. Usually they don't come that
early but today they came early. It's good when they come early b/c you have to
pee right away but it sucks waking up that early.”

Yeah, Todd, that really sucks. My dog wakes me up early in the morning all the time, but unfortunately it’s I can watch her pee in the yard. It’s never because the USADA is waiting at my front door to watch me pee in a cup because I’m a big-time factory Pro bike racer & get to travel the world on someone else’s dime.

There’s many more stories to tell from Park City, but I gotta go rearrange my race schedule & rebuild my bike so it's ready for the next physical & emotional beating.

I'm Packed

I Need Content

I continue to feel like crap, only I’m getting used to it, so feeling like crap is beginning to feel normal. In spite of all this, I’m still boarding a plane tomorrow evening headed for SLC. Everybody is talking about how they’re hoping to conjure up some mid-season form. Mid-season? We’re already in mid-season? I’m stuck in cold in flu season.

And what better way to remind myself that I currently suck than riding up to Oak Glen with Norm, Craig, Scott Miller & Padgett. Come to think of it, the entire ride was a bad idea for most of us & here’s why:

1. It was a holiday & in the dictionary, the word holiday is defined as a day without work. Riding up to Oak Glen is work.

2. I’m feeling like crap. We’ve already established that.

3. Scott was supposed to be on a recovery day.

4. Craig is supposed to be training for triathlons - not mountain top finishes.

5. Padgett has raced so much this year that he could barely turn over the pedals last week, but for some reason a week later he's riding to Oak Glen.

6. Norm is retired. He doesn’t need to get any faster.

There. That’s just 6 reasons of why we should have made a right off of Oak Glen Rd., headed into Calimesa & spent the rest of the day on holiday.

Our view of Norm as he made us all feel like small hopeless children on Independence Day.

Later in the day I went swimming. Denise & I play-fought in the pool with foam noodles & Ryder thought it was funny. It was funny until Denise hit me in the nose. I vowed to get her back [later in the evening] by shooting a bottle rocket at her, but no one brought any illegal fireworks to Chris’ BBQ.

Happy Birthday Huey!

Heard About Any Scandals Lately?

I've been waiting nearly a year to use this photo (taken at the Deer Valley NORBA Nat'l last year) and what more appropriate time than now...

Anyway, I spent most of the last month, either sick with, yet another sinus infection or resting. As bad luck would have it I got sick at the end of my rest week & by the time I kicked the infection, I had spent about 3 weeks off the bike. I did some little rides here & there, but nothing of any substance.

Since I've been back on the bike, I have done some pretty good mountain bike rides in the mountains with Templeman, Josh, Edward H. & Johnson. I even brought out the camera for Sunday's Santa Ana River Trail ride, but the photos came out bad so I'll spare you all the time. Take my word for it; they were good rides in much cooler weather than down the hill & they're all in preparation for this year's Deer Valley Nat'l, which is next weekend. God help me.

I've got nothing of any importance to report, so here's some new Brandon Bird stuff:

No One Wants to Play Sega with Harrison Ford

Those That Bind

Being a product of the Sesame Street generation, I like this one. I just can't remember its title. I think it should be called, Oscar Practices the Second or maybe Give Me All Your Money.

Random...

I guess the big news is that in an effort to keep Ryder off the streets, we're getting a pool thanks to the generousity of the in-laws.

Go Nicky!

Happy Birthday to Johnson. You share the same birthday as that crackpot Tom Cruise.

Happy belated birthday to Josh. You share the same birthday as, you'll never freaking believe it: Meredith Baxter-Birney and Michael Gross. What are the chances of that? That's a double-whammy. First, I post Those That Bind, Brandon Bird's beautiful tribute to Family Ties and then Josh shares the same birthday as the show's ex-hippie parents. Not only that; Mom & Dad Keaton were born on the very same day. I bet that made for one hell of a birthday party on the set.

What the hell Jan?

Did Ride Around the Bear on Saturday w/Fullford, Grant, Eric Riser, Trembly & a dude from England named Dominick. I wish we could do it more often, but you gamble w/your life riding up 330. On the Fawnskin side of the lake we passed Steve Gildea & I told him to jump on, but I guess he was out for a more “civilized” ride than we were. Good to see he’s riding. Because of the Irwin Lake fire that was still smoking, riding from the Sugarloaf area to Onyx Summit was like eating at a Waffle House. Our total rolling time was somewhere between 5.5 to 6 hours. I had to ride past my house to get in 100. If I have one observation about the ride, it’s how much difference a cassette with an 11 can make compared to a 12. Grant already has some pretty good top speed going down-hill, so I had a hard time even staying in his draft with my 12 (although the 25 sure was nice during the ascents).

After the ride I headed straight to the Hughes’ for Hailey’s birthday party. I finally got to swim with Ryder. He loves the water & has no reservations about dipping his head under water, which has its pros & cons. I’m thinking the kid should have a little fear in him. The rest of the party was fun and… interesting.

On Sunday Johnson pulled my ass around a portion of the Santa Ana River Trail. My legs were wobbly (at best) so we just middle-ringed it for a couple of hours. Then I finally finished the roof on the patio cover, pulled some weeds & did other yard work. Late in the evening I actually went back out, this time on the TT bike, trying to scout out a place to resume crit practice. No-such-luck. I found nothing.

Sunday was capped off with me BBQ’n chicken. Today, Denise & I both feel ill. The good news is that I’m not cooking this Wednesday at Denise’s Leukemia & Lymphoma Society/Team In Training fundraiser. Rubio’s is doing the cooking. If you buy dinner between 4-8 PM & give them Denise’s flyer – 20% of your dinner will go toward Denise’s cause & her next marathon. Or, if you despise Rubio’s because of their horrible advertising campaign, you can donate to the cause by clicking here. Anyway, at some point in the evening Denise & I will both be there passing out flyers. I think even the beer counts toward the 20%.

Any minute now I’m expecting a phone call or email, from my good friend Robert Hordossy because his country just shut-out the U.S. in World Cup play. Here Robert, I’ll even add some fuel to your patriotic fire. A Czech won the Pro Women Short Track race at the NORBA Nat’l on Sunday in North Carolina. I’m happy for you Robert. You guys are finally making up for decades of communist regime. Note: if you clicked on that link, expect a visit from the CIA in the next few days.

This about sums it up.

What else?

Last Thursday I retested with Mike McKovich on the CompuTrainer. After 6 weeks, I made some pretty good gains. It feels great to finally have some structure in all of this bicycle madness. If you’re already putting in the time, I highly recommend getting a coach.

The CA/NV State Road Race Championship is this weekend at Vandenberg. At some point on Friday, I’m heading up there because the 30+ race is at 9:30 AM on Saturday - 74 glorious miles. Sunday’s Pro1/2 is 109 glorious miles & I’m doing that one too. Let me know if you wanna come suffer.

Padgett won another crit this weekend.

Plane tickets are purchased for the Deer Valley NORBA Nat’l and I’m currently on the fence about flying up to B.C. for the Masters World Championships in early September. Maybe I can get Josh to go up there with me. No pressure.

I’m going to miss another Tossers show. It’s this weekend at the H.O.B. Anaheim & they’re even playing with Stiff Little Fingers. Sometimes it sucks to a bike racer, but not really.

I wonder what Ryder’s doing right now?