COSAT RICA Day 2: A day to recharge (Domingo)

We slept until about 6:00am, and were in the restaurant by 7:00 for breakfast. I’ve got to say, the restaurant at the hotel was great. For breakfast, we'd get a big plate of fresh fruit, orange juice, killer coffee and then your choice of many different dishes. I opted for an omelet, Jean for something with rice and beans and eggs.

After breakfast it was time to work my magic by building our bikes. All in all, it was an easy process and something I think I’m getting more proficient at. I do, however, need to have a better way to inflate our tires. Each 29x2.2 tire took 350 pumps with my mini-pump (yeah, I counted). My arms were ready to fall off. 

Right about the time that I had the bikes all finished, Jean went off for her spa treatment which included a “rain forest massage,” and volcano mud mask facial. While she was relaxing, I secured our Internet connection (I’m addicted, what can I say?) and then took my bike out for a short cruise. In only about 5 miles I realized that I had essentially gone from minimal riding on my rollers (remember, I’ve been sick for about a month) and living in frigid New England to riding in mountains in a rain forest next to an active volcano. Yeah, it was hot. I came back from my short ride drenched, but still, it felt great to be on the bike and to spin the legs out.

Jean and I took the BeGo into town, Fortuna, for lunch. We landed at Pizza Luigi’s, which despite sounding like a cheesy Italian restaurant was actually an excellent authentic local eatery. Jean had a salad with tuna, I had some chicken with mushrooms, and we sampled some killer obscura cerveza (dark beer). After lunch we strolled around Fortuna then made our way back to the hotel and, we actually took a nap! Relaxation was in full effect.

Dinner was at the hotel restaurant, which was again, perfecto. We got a platter called “to share,” which was a Costa Rican equivalent to a Pu-Pu platter. It was awesome! After some more chilaxin, it was time for bed, so that we could attack on Monday.

 

 

COSTA RICA: Getting there is NOT half the fun (Sabado)

Jean and I have traveled quite a bit; in fact, traveling is one of our favorite activities. However, no matter how hard we try to be ready, I don’t think we’ve ever had a trip that didn’t require a flurry of late-night packing and preparation the night before a seemingly MANDATORY “way too early” wake up call. This always means that we usually start our long days of travel on 3-4 hours of sleep.

This trip was no different. Despite starting our packing days in advance, we were still arranging and rearranging stuff, pulling out extra clothes, and otherwise checking our lists until about midnight. Four in the morning, came without a warning, and we were in the car and on the road a little after five. 

The drive to the airport, the checking in process, and getting on the plane were all uneventful. After the flight attendant passed out beverages, I thought I’d close my eyes for a little bit. BIG mistake. I think I was asleep for maybe 15 seconds before I was rudely awakened by the sensation of ice cold orange juice in my lap. The cup, which looked tiny on my fold-down tray, must have contained at least a gallon. I had orange juice ALL over my pants and even a small puddle in one of my shoes.

To put this all into perspective, I had a huge stain on my pants that made it look like I had wet myself, my crotch was soaked with sticky sweet orange juice, I was wearing heavy denim jeans and cotton skivvies, and I still had about six hours of travel ahead of me. Six hours of sitting on a vinyl seat cushion. I was not a happy man. I had hoped that I’d be able to pick up SOME kind of pants or shorts while our plane stopped off in Charlotte—I suspected that I’d at least be able to find some NASCAR sweatpants—but that was not in the cards. At one of the men’s clothing stores, I was told, there were no pants in the airport. Can you imagine, a pantless airport! I couldn’t wait to land in Costa Rica so I could grab some clothes out of my bag. Oy!

I don't know if the airport in San Jose, Costa Rica was also pantless, but I can tell you that the line to get through customs was as long as the airport was. In other words, it was a LOOOONG line, and we were at the end of it. Multiple flights must have landed at roughly the same time. Oy, again.

Now, the other part of preparing for our trips usually involves lots of research on directions and maps, language books and local phrases, currency exchange, etc, you know, all the things foreign travelers need to know when making their way through a different country. We landed in San Jose without any of that. We picked up a Spanish-English phrase book at the airport and then went to an ATM to get some money. The currency in Costa Rica is the colon (colones), which has the current exchange rate of 1 Costa Rican colon = 0.001807 U.S. dollars. I took out 100,000 colones which is, I think, about $12.

Anyway, from the ATM we made our way to the rental car desk, and then via shuttle, to the actual car lot. After a long and arduous process, we were finally on the road in our tiny, hamster powered, BeGo. We also decided to rent the optional GPS unit, and you have NO IDEA how glad we are that we did.

Our drive out of San Jose was uneventful, and then we started meandering north on some fairly narrow, twisty, roads. By the way, there are virtually NO road signs… there are a smattering of faded signs once in a while, but certainly not enough to navigate with any level of confidence. Still, I had some directions from the rental car place, and I wanted to make the drive, at least in theory, without the aid of the GPS unit. Then it got dark. And foggy. Then, if there is such a word, foggier.

I am now going to struggle for a bit as I don’t think words, or even photos could ever convey the lack of visibility that we drove through. It was the worst driving conditions I’ve ever experienced. The fog was so thick, it goes beyond any cliché such as pea soup or cutting with a knife. We literally, could barely see beyond the hood of the car. The headlights were no help and the high beams made visibility worse. You might ask, “why not just pull over?” And again, without being there, you can’t understand, but the road was so narrow, and there was no shoulder, there was no place to go. Add to this already challenging drive the fact that there were locals out walking on the road, and a fair share of oncoming traffic, and it was bizarre. Imagine driving along, focused on the elusive yellow lines in the road and the occasional reflectors, when all of a sudden there are people walking on the side, and also, suddenly headlights appear on your left. I could go on and on, but let me just say, again, it was unbelievable. Here’s where the GPS comes in… I was actually making real time turns partially by having Jean co-pilot me via the GPS (turn more, turn more), because I might was well have had my windshield painted white.

I don’t know if this fog was a common occurrence or an aberration, but I would not want to have to drive through that again—and I’ll typically drive through anything.

Another interesting part to the drive from San Jose to Fortuna was that the traffic going the other way consisted of hundreds of cars (unfortunately, only coming in spurts) with mountain bikes on them, including MANY vans with easily 15-20 bikes on the roof. I was in a perpetual state of WTF during the white knuckle drive. It turns out that there was a HUGE race going on, but more on that later.

After a couple of hours of inching along in the car, the fog finally cleared and we were finally able to make some good time. We rolled through La Fortuna (a city over-run with mountain bikers), grabbed a quick bite, and, at last, found Hotel El Silencio Del Campo at about 9:00pm (10:00pm to us). It was a LOOOOONG day of sticky, treacherous travel.  We were asleep in no time.

Cough, cough, cough...wheeeeeeeeeze.

I'm sick. I hate being sick. I've been "sick" for about two weeks now. At first, I thought it was just a little viral illness, a cute little rhinovirus perhaps, that would wreak some havoc in my sinuses for a few days and then move on. Perhaps that's how it started, but just when I thought I was on the mend (meaning, I could breathe through my nose again), the microbes sensed my wavering guard and launched a full assault on my precious lungs. The coughing, hacking and wheezing began in earnest. I no longer simply had erythematous nares as a sign of my weakened state. No, now I had audible clues (the above mentioned coughing, wheezing, and hacking). I actually had to take a sick day from work, and I NEVER take sick days. Fortunately, I think the extra day of rest helped a bit. That and the arsenal of chemicals I'm ingesting.  I am polypharmacy and I will not back down.

While, of course, this is no real big deal... I've got a little cold (I'll bet that's what patient zero with Ebola thought), I am completely disheartened in that I haven't worked out in nearly a month. So much for my bold 2010 training plans! Between some VERY busy work weeks, with VERY busy home projects (i.e., packing, moving, staging and trying to sell our house), and my fragile condition, nay, I've not touched a bike nor piece of exercise equipment in weeks. I wore my running shoes around the house yesterday just to remember that I had a pair. And, the martial arts gym I belong to even called to see if I had been abducted. Coughing tiger, wheezing dragon indeed.

Sigh. I felt like I was losing my identity as a cyclist, so this morning I went ahead and renewed my coaching license with USA Cycling AND became a member of the American College of Sports Medicine. Later, I'll spend some time reading VeloNews and Cyclocross Magazine, and that should help bring me back to myself. Maybe I should buy some bike stuff online...

Diary of a Bearded Man

Well, as usual, my life has been a whirlwind of activity. Unfortunately, none of that activity has included biking or running. In fact, as I write this, I think it’s been almost two weeks (or more?) since I’ve had a good workout. Yeah, probably more.

As you may have heard, the wife and I are putting the house, or “crib,” up for sale. If you’ve ever sold a house (this is my first), you know what an overwhelming amount of work this entails. First, there was a furious effort to pack up any “extraneous” stuff around the house that we could put into storage.

Then, there was a furious cleaning effort (assisted by my helpful mother-in-law), and then there was complete re-arrangement of our furniture and rooms to make the house more “potential buyer” friendly. We moved some rooms around, the wife packed up her studio, and we’re back to having three bedrooms. While this was going on, our bathroom was also wrapping up the final stages of remodeling and I still need to hang the towel racks.

With just about every room full of boxes, I needed a storage solution—PODS to the rescue. They dropped off their biggest, baddest storage container (8x8x16) and we filled it to the max. My original plan was to fill it in one night, with some help from our friends, but that was clearly crazy talk. With a few extra days of on-site packing, we were able to make better use of the space, and cram it full to the gills. When we next open it, it’s going to be like those old fake cans of peanuts with the spring snakes that pop out. What fun!

I should note, that being the responsible adult that I am, I did purchase additional property insurance for our stuff that’s in the PODS. It’s a pretty good policy, but it does have some interesting exclusions. For example, it does not cover any damage that is as of the result of earth shrinkage. I can imagine the dialogue now:

ME: Hi PODS, I just went through my belongings, and there appears to be some damage, how can I file a claim?

PODS: I’m sorry to hear about your damages, but the Earth is much smaller now, and we can’t be responsible for your losses.

Those lawyers think of everything.

2010--what does it mean?

It's only about two weeks in to the new year and there's already been more disturbing news than I'd care to stomach in a whole decade. Mark McGwire used steroids (but, reportedly, only mild ones, so maybe that's okay... it's like smoking pot and not inhaling), there's in-fighting at NBC between Conan O'Brien and Jay Leno, Simon Cowell is leaving American Idol, Sarah Palin is going to be on FOX "News" and apparently Tobey Maguire (no relation that I know of to Mark) is getting the boot from Spiderman 4. WTF? Has the whole world gone insane?

In a word, "yes."

But while the world of entertainment feels the repercussions of these poor stars and their personal struggles, I'm focused on the upcoming year, and more importantly, myself.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, family, and OF COURSE Jean comes before me... we all KNOW that. I'd give Jean both my kidneys and spleen if she needed 'em, even if it was only for a surface design project. Fortunately, she wants me to keep my internal organs, well, internal. Which lets me focus on bikes, running, travel, races, photography and bikes.

First off, for the past couple of months, I've been on a new diet. Nay, I don't want to call it a diet, it's a new way of eating. It's based on the principles in the Paleo Diet. I'm not going to get into the details, and to be honest, I'm sick of explaining what I eat to everyone. Essentially, I'm trying to eliminate all modern processed foods and primarily consume lean proteins, vegetables, and fruits with very little grains. No breads, no pasta, no cookies, no cakes, no candy. Have I done this 100%? No. But have I made considerable changes? Yes. I still allow myself my one daily treat--a protein Builder Bar in the morning with my coffee (but hey, it's all natural, 1/3 organic, low glycemic and damn tasty). Otherwise my day consists of apples, carrots, salads, nuts, clementines, eggs, etc, etc. Depending on my workouts, I may supplement with some higher glycemic foods (energy bars, gels), but for the most part, that stuff is a no-no. I met with a nutritionist and his recommendations coincided with information I read in The Cyclist's Training Bible and The Paleo Diet for Athletes. I admit, I'm 100% addicted to sugar. Cookies and chocolate are like heroin to me. However, I made it through the holidays without a single sweet. That in itself was an accomplishment. We'll see how this goes...

I've also been looking at the year ahead and trying to plan some races. I've signed up for the Wildcat Epic 100--a back to back 50-mile mountain bike race. Singlespeed? Of course. There's also going to be an EFTA race on one of my favorite trail networks, Willowdale State Forest in Ipswich/Topsfield. I can't wait for that. Otherwise, I'll primarily be focusing on cyclocross races which don't start until the fall.

My "photo a day/365 project" wrapped up on 12/31/09. It's been nice to NOT have to take a photo every day, but after a little more than a week, the Canon G10 was feeling neglected. I'll be thinking of another project to keep me motivated this year, but it won't be pic every day.

The more I think about it, by the time I factor in some racing, some training, some travel (of course there will be travel), home projects, photography, writing, lecturing (I'm actually heading up to UNE today), and that pesky work, my year seems pretty full already. That, and waiting for the new Clash of the Titans movie opening in March...

One question remains... am I man enough to wear the kilt I got for Christmas? Time will tell...

By the way, I forgot to mention that this past November marked the first Year of Gary. He's made amazing progress and is totally integrated into the house now. He no longer vomits with every car ride, and he doesn't hide in terror every time I sneeze. He's still a little skittish at times, but overall, he and Luna make a great pair of dogs!

Hmmmm... trouble in the neighborhood last night... At least it wasn't at MY house...

Ho Ho Ho

More Ice Weasel Video

Here's the second installment in the epic adventure known as the Ice Weasel Cometh.

More to follow....

My Pedal is Coming Home!

You may have read below about the tragic loss of one of my beloved EggBeater pedals... Yes in a moment of pain and despair, I looked down to see an naked pedal spindle. While I swapped bikes in the pit, I thought I'd never see my pedal body again--how would such a small thing be found in snow covered race course?

Well, the Gods at Crank Brothers were shining down upon me because not only was my pedal found: http://alexjospe.blogspot.com/2009/12/ice-weasels-cometh.html, but someone has contacted me regarding its eventual return home!

It's truly a Christmas Miracle!

Ice Weasels--Video is Up!

So, I'll start with one video and see how long it takes to cut & edit more... (I'll also see how long it takes to upload!)

Now, some details of my race day...

It was an uneventful drive to Wrentham... Somewhere along the way, I hooked in to a paceline of other racers from my neck of the woods (Chris, Dan, Stu, et al). Yeah, I know, I should have car-pooled, but I had a tight timeline and essentially boogied right after the race. Anyway, we hit the iced over parking lot, walked over to the freezing shed to pick up race numbers, and all went back to our respective cars to be warm for just a little bit longer.

After figuring out what would be an appropriate amount of layers, it was time for a pre-ride. The course was twisty and turny with either snow--just deep enough to put you off track, ice, or rough frozen ground. Yeah!

I put my Motobecane in the pit and made my way around to the start.

The start was interesting, and by "interesting," I mean "narrow," allowing only about 5 riders per row, and we were staged by starting number. I was in something like the 10th row back. Far enough back so that when the starting whistle was whistled, I was standing still for about 10 seconds. D'oh!

Anyway, we took off at a gentlemanly pace, rounding turns with breath held in anticipation of washing out with both wheels. Fortunately, that didn't happen to me, but I saw MANY riders hit the deck.

The first lap was spent trying to pick my way further towards the front, and also trying to figure out what that terrible creaking sound was coming from my cranks or pedals. Anytime I put in a hard effort, it sounded like my bike was going to break.

Eventually, it did break, or at least the pedal did. And while that, in and of itself doesn't sound fortunate, the timing was. When my wouldn't foot connect, I looked down and saw nothing but pedal spindle. Then, I looked up and saw the entrance to the pit area. Sweet! I swept in, spent a few seconds trying to check the bottom of my shoe to see if the pedal body was stuck to the cleat (it wasn't), and hopped on my pit bike. I was back in the race!

After that, it was just a matter of trying to pass riders when I could, trying to stay upright, and looking for ice weasels.

Before I knew it, the bell lap was at hand, and it was time for one last push to the finish. All in all, it was a good time. I wish I could have stuck around to check out the other races, but I had time to grab a few quick pics and then I was on my way back home.

According to the friendly folks at Crossresults.com, my effort earned me a 36th or so out of 87...

And so ends the 2009 cyclocross season, but NOT the biking season. I'll be on the trails by Tuesday!

The Ice Weasel Cameth--and Wenteth...

Yep, yesterday was the last race of CX season for me (and most of the region, although there is one more race today in CT). It was perfect 'cross race--frigid, snowy, slippery, and fun. A full report--AND video is forthcomimg--but that's going to take a little computer time which I don't have just now. Until then, here are some pertinent numbers regarding the race:

• 6: the time, AM, I was up to get ready to leave.
• 9: the "real feel" temp, in Fahrenheit, according to Weather.com.
• 2: the number of bikes I brought with me.
• 2: the number of bikes I needed in the race.
• 3: the total number of pedals I came home with.
• 12: the "real feel" temp, in Fahrenheit, of the plastic toilet seat in the port-0-let, according to my butt cheeks.
• 95: the number of confirmed riders registered for my race category.
• 55: my starting position.
• 1: the number of laps I had done before I realized that I hadn't hit the start button on my HRM (I HATE losing that VERY important data!).
• 178: my average heart rate.
• 186: my maximum heart rate.
• 2: the number of dogs NOT so patiently waiting for me to take them out NOW... gotta go.

More later!

Sterling Cyclocross Photos...

More cyclocross! This is what happens what you have gigs and gigs of memory in your camera...

I just bought some pure speed!

So you may have noticed that I have been lamenting about my poor performance in some recent cyclocross races. Well, I have identified the problem and I'm happy to report that I have taken drastic steps to make things right.

Anyone who knows anything about cycling knows that you NEED carbon fiber components to win. Well, after a quick review of my cyclocross bike I realized that I was missing one of the most basic of carbon componentry, the nearly ubiquitous carbon fork!

Yes, I was being held back, and weighed down, with A STEEL FORK!

No wonder I was sucking wind at the back of the pack!

Well, even though someone erroneously tried to tell me that a pound of carbon is no lighter than a pound of steel (some retrogrouch curmudgeon, I'm sure), I went on a quest to find a decent, and affordable carbon fork. My search ultimately me led to eBay, and after some strategic bidding, I became the proud new owner of a 4ZA Zornyc carbon bladed/aluminum steerer fork.

Unfortunately, the fork did not arrive in time for me to use it to slay the competition in Sterling.

Be warned, it's on the bike now though, and I will be using it to slay my adversaries in Wrentham.

The fork I took off my bike weighed an ungodly 1180 grams! My new fork is more than 350 grams lighter! My front wheel may never even touch the ground... It's a whole new world for me now.

Cyclocross in Sterling!

Well, it was another weekend of cyclocross... that means another weekend of fun and of sucking.
I think that racing is super fun, but it would probably be a whole lot more fun if I could just get a little more "oomph," a little more Eye of the Tiger..

I've got a plan to do just that, but that's for NEXT season...

Focusing on this season, this past weekend's BayState 'cross race (full name: BayState Cyclocross, Round 12 of the Verge New England Cyclocross Championship Series, UCI Cat 2, Presented by Spin Arts/Stevens Cycles, Gear Works Cyclery, and The Mid State Cycling Club) was another opportunity for me to push the limits of human athleticism. Instead, I found myself pushing my bike up a sloppy, muddy hill. But, I'm getting ahead of myself (something many of the people I raced against also did... get ahead of me... that's almost a pun).

I was originally signed up to race both Saturday and Sunday-an ambitious agenda, my wife thought. She's right, Anyway, due to a confluence of factors, not the least of which was the torrential downpour I heard as my alarm went off dark and early on Saturday morning, I skipped out on Day 1. Ironically, by the time I did roll out of bed, the skies had cleared and I heard that the start of my race was bone dry. D'oh. That's okay. I had a little more time to get my stuff together for Sunday's race (Sunday, Sunday, Sunday!), so I was able to get to bed at a decent time and hopefully be well rested.

Sunday morning came early (as almost all of my mornings do), and G-Roll (AKA G-Money, AKA G-Rad, AKA Glen) arrived at my front door so we could carpool to the race. We had our directions spot-on this time and didn't waste any time on any wild goose chases. In fact, thanks to Glen's driving tip, by taking a few extra turns-we shaved about 10 minutes off the drive time. Bizarre!

Glen's race was much later in the day, so he had plenty of time to chill. I, on the other hand, had to sign-in, get my number, and take a quick warm-up spin. I don't typically warm up before a race, and I think that's going to change...Anyway, this time around, I did a half-lap of the course and found my way to the BACK of the staging area.

My primary goal with any race start is to avoid any crashes or mishaps, and I was able to do that once again. The course started on a fast crushed stone track... we went around about 1/2 of the track then made a tight hairpin turn onto the grass. From there, it was a typical 'cross course, with plenty of tight turns, grassy straight-aways, a couple of run-ups. One of the "run ups" was sort of a "slog-up" as it was a slick, slippery, muddy hill. SOME riders were able to ride up, but most did not.

Overall, the course was fast and fun. Unfortunately, I was neither. Oh, who am I kidding? Of course I was fun! It's the "fast" I've got to work on. Although, depending on how you look at the results, I didn't do that poorly. I did CRUSH five other racers. And, in my class, I was the top finisher from Massachusetts' "North Shore" region. It also appears that of all the men's classes, I was the highest placed racer with a hyphenated last name. I can only imagine that the sponsorship offers will be rolling in any minute now...

Thanks to Glen for documenting my efforts photographically. I look fast, don't I?

After my race, it was time to hang out and watch Glen get ready for his race. I ran up and down the course shooting my trusty Canon G10 and I'll be posting a little slide show once I sort through the pics and eliminate the crap...

With this race done, it appears that there is only one more race on the calendar for this season that I can get to-the Ice Weasel! See ya in Wrentham!

That's Glen:

Pics from Day 2--Plymouth Festival of Cyclocross

Admittedly, many of these pics are of my buddy Glen, but there's plenty of pics of others from the Men's Cat 2-3-4 race (1:00pm). There are low res. If anyone wants one of the pics in hi-res, let me know.

Cyclocross in Plymouth!

There comes a time in a race when you know you're pushing as hard as you can. Your heart rate is at the max, you're legs are pumping, and you can't hear over the rush of blood pounding through your ears. You take a moment to look behind you, and see... no one. At this point, you can glean one of two things. Either you've made a break that no one can match, you're in front and your gap is growing. or, in my case, you know that you're probably in DFL.

I wish I could blame my bike-but it was working fairly well. I wish I could blame the course, but it was fast and fun (an no one else seemed to be hindered). I wish I could blame the big crash at the start line, but fortunately, I was in front of that mess, implying that I got a great start (which I did). Nay, blame lies sadly in one spot-that's right, the Spanish Inquisition.

Okay, here's how things went down. I picked up my buddy Glen at about 7:00am and made the hour or so drive to Plymouth, MA. In case you didn't know, Plymouth has TWO high schools, so if you plug Plymouth High School into GoogleMaps, you've got a 50/50 shot of getting the right one. As usual, the odds were against me and we arrived at the high school without a single course marker, port-o-let, or person. Incidentally, as this weekend was a two-day race in Plymouth, the race promoters used the north high school for day one and the south high school on day two (which would have been apparent to me if I had read the flyer). You can imagine our confusion at seeing clear signs of a recent race (tire tracks in the mud), but not another soul.

Anyway, after some BlackBerry and iPhone maneuvering, we found the correct location. The delay did however give me a simple answer to the question of "should I pre-ride the course?" We got there in just enough time for me to pin my number on, sign my one-day license and find the staging area. I muscled my ironic flat bar 'cross bike to the start line and within a few minutes, the start whistle had been whistled.

After a few hard pedal strokes I heard the unmistakable sound of knobby tires meeting knobby tires, followed by some crashing. Fortunately, this occurred behind me. Unfortunately, everyone that was held up with that calamity seemed pass me not too much later. I felt great heading into the woods on the singletrack, but as soon as we hit the huge field of grass, I felt like I was riding on two flat tires.

The remainder of the race was mostly unremarkable. I kept up the effort, and pretty much settled in to my approximately 30th place spot. I made sure I didn't lose any spots, but I couldn't seem to bridge up any further... until the final climb up to the finish.

I came up behind another rider that seemed to feel about as fresh as I did (not). I hung in behind him down a slick, off-camber, wet, grassy downhill and put the hammer down on the last climb. I passed him, but then exploded. And I do mean exploded. I honestly don't know what happened. Did my chain skip or slip? Did my back wheel spin out? Did someone shoot me from a grassy knoll? I don't know. But what I do know is that I was suddenly falling face first into a large rock. I was able to keep my pretty face from making contact, but I was totally off my bike, and oddly enough, out of one of my shoes. Needless to say, that guy passed me. With the reflexes of a ninja, I jumped back on my bike and finished the race doing a one-legged sprint to the line. Check out GPS data from the course here.

And while I didn't have to wait around for a medal, I did wait around to put another effort out on the course. I raced again at noon (this time with my buddy Glen), both in the Master 35+. I over estimated my athletic prowess as I was caught by the leaders by the third or fourth lap. I decided to drop out, get cleaned up, and take some pics of Glen's race.

All in all, the day was a good beating. That cheeseburger on the way home and the beer later that night tasted so good though! Next up, Sterling, MA, Thanksgiving weekend!

I still love Cyclocross!

Sunday's event was the first annual Applecrest Farm's Cyclocross race in Hampton Falls, NH. As you can probably guess from the name, the course was on a farm, and we traveled in, out, and through the orchards. Overall, the course--nay, the entire event--was great. However, I sucked. Want some excuses? Here's one: I started in the absolute back of the pack. Never good. Want another? I crashed--but that didn't slow me down *too* much. No, despite the fact that I slid on my side for a while, and the fact that I started in the back, the ultimate reason I didn't do better was that I'm slow. That's okay--my comprehensive training plan is to allow myself to hit complete rock bottom--in terms of fitness--so that I can ONLY get better. So far, my decline is going exactly according to plan!

Anyway, I had fun, and Jean was on hand to yell at me and ring the omnipresent cowbell. Mike and Jo Schnyder were there too--ringing bells and taking pictures--THANKS!

After my proverbial spanking, we all went to Portsmouth, NH, for lunch. Mmmmmm, lunch.

The next race on the schedule is in Plymouth, MA!

Halloween!

This past Saturday, being Halloween, was a big day here in Salem. And, Jean and I tried to spend as little time in Salem as possible. The great weather was a good excuse to spend some time on the trails, and we hit some of our favorites at Bradley Palmer/Willowdale.

Now, in recent years, we've had a pretty weak showing for kids coming to the house begging for candy. I figured that this year, we'd skip buying candy altogether (it used to just end up going to work with us). So, when we were driving through our neighborhood, and we saw just under a million kids trolling the streets, I knew I had made an error in judgment. So, yep, in the house with no lights on until they were all gone!

I decided to head in to downtown to see how the festivities were going, and I've got to say, it was pretty amazing. I usually stay as far away from the madness as possible, but this year I grabbed my camera and went into the belly of the beast. Being able to roll through traffic on a bike was key. Anyway, the crowds were huge but fairly orderly, and some of the costumes were movie quality. I posted some of the pics on Facebook.

I didn't stay too long though--I wanted to finish getting my shizzo together for the race on Sunday...