Canton Cup 2011!

Karen, Jeff and AndrewT are seriously bitten by the ‘Cross bug and made their racing debuts this past weekend.

Canton is a wide open, non-technical course.  Somehow it provided more crashing than Gloucester and Providence combined (the late October cocktail of snow & rain did the trick).   Apparently the race organizer wanted to get out of the cold and beat the snow – announcing the races would be only 3 laps. 

Karen was first off in the women’s race at 9a.  Her throng of fans surrounded the start line and began to chant, “KP.  KP.  KP.”  The whistle went off and she took off like a shot.  She crashed, she smiled, she even responded to our heckling on the course.  She finished strong, not last, not in the hospital.  Check all three boxes.

Next up in the 150 man-strong Cat4 field were BBQ Billy Reiders, Freddy the Assasin Hoff, yours truly, Jeff the attack man Packman and Andrew all smiles Tappe. 

We lined up by prior race points.  I somehow ended up being called up a row behind Billy Reiders.  Wait a minute...until this point, I had no idea that bribery had reached this level of the sport.

At the hole-shot, I moved up behind Billy.  We flew through the fields towards the first barriers and just as the guy beside me was hopping off his bike, he swung his leg wide, fast and right into my, uh, well…a part not designed to stop a flying shoe. 

I went over like a ton of bricks.  Fought the urge to lose my breakfast and just stood in front of the barriers leaning against my bike while the race passed by.  Nuts!

Sorry, couldn't resist the pun.  

Back on the bike, Freddy hopped a log that I decided to run.  Wham, now he was in front of me.  I’d reached the painful point where the students were surpassing the teacher.  This was no good.  No good!

Billy dropped a chain, so I passed him.  Now only Freddy left.  Problem was, I typically wait until the 4^th lap to make a move and this was a 3 lap race.  Not a lot of time.  Double problem was every time I called to the engine room for more, Scotty was not answering the phone. 

Now Billy passes me again and I’m chasing like crazy.  Too crazy. Hit the first run up and miss the remount (queue replay of the barrier kick).  Stan was belly laughing.  I’m now firmly in the soprano section of the chorus. 

Two turns later, I manage to crash in a corner.  This is definitely not going well.  2 laps to go and I’m a mess.  Finally catch Fred again and we trade places (was a blast Fred) and then Freddy goes flying off the course. 

Meanwhile, Jeff and AndrewT are having the time of their lives in their first cross race.  All five of us finished respectably.  All of us with big grins.  Bill, Fred and I within seconds of each other.   Ryan Hoff did a great job in his junior race.  Kudos to him – he’s racing the same times as the adults each weekend.

And so what began in April at Battenkill comes to an end – the 2011 season was amazing.  99% of the amazing part is driven by the great people I get to hang out with as part of this crew. 

Now time for a break from the bike and time to start getting ready for the snow.  Can’t wait to glide on the skis in a few weeks.  

Providence Cyclocross 2011 - Ryan Hoff makes his debut!

After watching his dad on last weekend's course in Gloucester, 13 year-old Ryan Hoff reportedly said to himself, "I'd better hop into this sport and restore the reputation of the Hoff family name!"

Young Ryan did just that -- he debuted in front of a capacity crowd in Providence on Saturday.  Aboard his new Redline Conquest, he managed to work his way past several Cat3 women in the field that started 2 minutes before him!  

The kid was flying so fast, photographers had to speed up their apertures just to catch him on camera.  The kid ended up racing for close to 30 minutes -- a gut buster for anyone -- and took home 12th place!

What we like even better is that he listed his team as "Weston Posse."  Awesome.  The kid oozes coolness.  

The warm-up event for Ryan's junior race was the old guys race.  The sun was out, the course was fast and some turns were downright slippery as Crisco.   This is one beautiful park and one awesome course:

Fred, Bill and I lined up mid- to back of the back and the gun went off for yet another uphill start (I much prefer the downhill starts!).  But, in my 5th race, I'm beginning to catch on.  Big ring this week, sprint hard for the hole shot.  Boom, I found myself passing guys.

Until we hit the first turn -- then the attempts to pass got ugly.  I got elbowed, both sides, at the same time!

Don't elbow an Irishman.

It ticks us off.

So, I returned the favor on the next turn and then gunned it (Irishman know how to deal and then run).  Two turns later, an off-camber 90-degree turn on crisco-mud sent half the field cart-wheeling over the fence.  Elbow guy #2 went flying off right in front of me.  Sorry kid, cheaters proof.

Meanwhile, Bill and Fred were duking it out on the course.  Bill always seems to be smiling for the photos.  Oddly enough, he's fasting on race day (Yom Kippor) and still smiling (and racing fast).  Apparently 'cross counts as atonement (Steve, can we get a ruling on that?).

I found myself in a group of five guys who were pushing hard to move up.  We did the final lap and a half all together and as we were flying down the backside of the course, I planned a passing move with about a half-KM to go.  Cut to the inside of the steep uphill turn, I thought.  Coming into the corner, everything was going to plan.

Cut to the inside, come by four guys....BAM.  Hit tree.  Head on.  Large Oak.  It didn't move.  I did.  Ouch.

Hopped back on and could hear a guy closing on me while I tried to get a rhythm going again.  Decided to sprint with him for the line and because I had very little gas left, could sense I was going to be on the downside of this transaction.  Turned out he had even less.    Finished this race 36 spots better than last week.  Now just a few dozen more to go for the podium!

Here's a great video of the course Bill, Fred and I raced.  Not my video (sorry for the confusion last week), but this will give you a great sense of how well Ryan did in his first race.  Not an easy course!


Providence Cross 2011 Day 1 from Bob T. on Vimeo.

Next up:  Canton.  Join us!

Rain, Mud and Smiles -- Cyclocross is here!

What if the Super Bowl were in town and you got to play a game in full pads a couple of hours before the real game started?  Each fall, the world's best riders descend on a seaside park in Gloucester, Mass (yes, that one -- made famous in "The Perfect Storm").   They let us amateurs race the course a few hours before the pros.  Add in some rain, mud and wind and you've got perfect conditions for cylocross.   The Super Bowl field was ours for the morning.  And it was a blast.  

"What the heck is Cyclocross?", you ask.  Think road bike, with almost mountain bike tires, a course 90% off-pavement (mostly grass), with obstacles you have to get off your bike and sprint through (while schlepping said bike).  In this case, the course was old-school:  12 forced dismounts including a mud wall (see above) and the worlds longest stair case in a cross event.  

The idea is that you're red-lining, bitter taste in the throat for the better part of an hour.  The fifth time up that staircase and my head was spinning.  Literally.  

This was my first race last year and it hooked me.  This year, I hood-winked Bill and Fred into buying 'cross bikes and trying this out.  

My race went off at 8a, theirs at 9a.  I made a rookie mistake at the start.  Thought I was in the big ring.  Wasn't.  Gun goes off and I'm spinning like a blender while 50 guys pass me.  Won't do that again.

This year's course was extra twisty.  No real straightaways to pass guys.  

Want a feel for it?  Here's the video of my race:

Bill, passing guys like they're standing still:

Bill through the sand pit safely:

Bill up the barriers:

Fred flying up the mud wall:

Fred through the sand:

Fred, Bill and Fred's son Ryan at the finish (already talk of next week's race!):

Muddy:

Next week:  Providence!!

GMSR Addendum - Mike Young the Story of the Day!

Proof positive that early Alzheimer's is setting in. I accidentally left out the big story from the 2011 GMSR. Mike Young, the climbing phenom from Wellesley, signed up for the GMSR as his first race. Mike's built for that finish and he proved it. Although he scared the heck out of us while eating on the bike (hold 'yer line there newbie -- move to the outside to eat), inside, I knew he was going to crush his first race.

Mike made it over the first two climbs without breaking a sweat. As we hit the base of the climb, one of the last sentences I managed to utter while still with the lead group was, "Mikey, this climb has your name all over it."

Mikey punched it and stayed with the leaders for a lot longer than I did. Finishing 21st at 3:10 (three minutes faster than your's truly).

Congrats Mike -- heck of a first race!!

Irene's revenge - Green Mountain Stage Race 2011

The 2011 edition of the Green Mountain Stage Race almost didn't happen. When you think of hurricane exposure, Vermont isn't exactly at the top of anyone's list. But, instead of nailing the coast hard, Irene saved her wrath for Vermont and upstate New York.

Torrential downpours led to rains rushing down mountain streams into valley rivers not prepared for 10" of rain in a matter of hours.

As we drove through the aftermath a week before the race, the damage was unimaginable. In Waterbury, the river jumped the banks, became a half-mile wide and destroyed everything inside 150 homes. People and their belongings were caked in river mud as they piled debris in their front yards.

To make matters worse, power lines were out and several valley towns were trapped due to roads and bridges completely washed away.

Against this backdrop, a bicycle race didn't seem plausible or appropriate and the race organizer Gary Kessler sent out an email to his 800 racers to say the race might not happen.

But, Gary's a Vermonter, in the coolest sense. Business owners in the Valley asked him to hold the race -- given the damage from the flood, they could ill afford the loss of income the racers bring to the Valley (around $1M over the weekend).

That meant Gary, Peter and their team had three days to find new courses for 2 of the 4 stages, get permits, permission from towns, state police, etc. Somehow, they managed to do it and on Thursday an email came, "Race On."

The Weston Posse guys rallied and Steve, Andy, Jeff, Thom, Mike and I made it to the start line. A local favorite route called 'Tour de Camels Hump' would serve as the new improvised route. 63 miles, 5000 feet of climbing with a mountain top finish on the 20%+ App Gap.

It was a hot and humid day. 11 miles into it we hit the first KOM (King of the Mountain) up the Duxbury Gap. I fought like a fat man needs to, to hang with the lead group. The pace picked up with 1K to go and half of the peloton went shooting out the back. I looked over my shoulder to see that I was the last man in line. Push hard or 50 miles in the wind alone. Luckily a little local knowledge helped -- there was a 4.5 mile descent following the climb, so lot's of time to recover. I turned myself inside out and stayed in the lead group.

Mike, Steve and Andy were there no problem and about half-way down the descent, I slipped to the front to get two minutes of time in first place. We hit the flat and the planets came back into alignment and the fast guys came to the front.

At 16 miles we hit a dirt section and all heck broke loose - guys were pushing the pace to fly over potholes. The end-cap of the dirt section was over a washed out road that was filled in with rocks. Guys were flatting left and right. Unfortunately, the Jeff Packman's tires were claimed and he slipped out of the chase group. Irene's revenge #1.

At mile 25, the road got really rough and Garmins were flying off of handle bars. Mike's was the first to go. He paused for 10 seconds -- you could see his mind spinning ("That's a $300 Garmin. I should go get it. If I go get it, I'm out of the race."). About the time he was turning back, a guy rode up and said, "Sorry pal, your Garmin was crunched immediately -- several of us rode right over the thing." Irene's revenge #2.

Meanwhile, Jeff had fixed his flat and was soloing back to the group. He hit this section and, you guessed it - Garmin went flying. He ending up chasing his into a field. Irene's revenge #3.

The headwind was strong and the lead group was now down from 85 to about 35. The message was clear -- if you attack us, we will let you dangle in the wind, let you fade

and then we will hunt you down and spit you out the back.

At 31 miles we had a 3-mile climb and a few more guys were dropped. The group was motoring. At 51 miles our average speed was 23.5mph and we'd covered two climbs. Steve went to the front to drive the pace. Mike, Andy and I happily let him. After awhile, I felt a little guilty about letting him do all the work, so went to the front and tried to play good domestique - "you need anything? bottles? food?"

Truth is, in about 5 miles we'd hit the base of a Cat1 climb and I was pretty sure that's the last I'd see of the business end of the race.

We hit the base of the App Gap -- a steep 4 mile section called the “Baby Gap” and the pace kicked up. I hung on for dear life for a few kilometers. At the back of the group, guys were throwing the anchor over and flying out the back. About half-way up, I became one of those guys and the green jersey holder and I agreed to form our own gruppetto (back of the bus).

The pros had started right behind us and I couldn't believe that we hadn't been caught by this point. He and I made a goal -- let's get to 3km from the top without getting passed by the big boys.

Up at the front, Steve and Mike were hanging tough. Jeff, Andy and Thom were chasing hard and I was in between in no man's land, trying to hold off the pros with my new best friend (the guy was pretty hilarious).

At 58 miles we hit the final 3 mile STEEP climb up App Gap. I had been out of fluids for a while and the heat was brutal. I pedaled but I'm pretty sure there are 80 year-olds moving faster behind walkers than I was moving.

At 3.5 km to go, the pro lead car came by. The race was on -- like idiots we pushed the pace trying to get that 3K to go sign before getting passed. About 100 yards short of it, Tom Zirbel came flying by, followed by Jamey Driscoll in hot pursuit. Yes, they were going at a very different speed.

The last 1km is brutal - averages 18%+. Finally over the line and finally the heat breaks into a cold rain. Timing was perfect.

The Weston/Wellesley Posse did great:

• Steve Lebovitz - 5th at 3:00
• Mike Moran - 13th at 3:05 -- looking for any old Garmins that might need a new home
• Jon - 24th at 3:13
• Andy Kessler - 26th at 3:15
• Thom Cranley - 31st at 3:28
• Jeff Packman - Hard Man award - - 40th at 3:44 -- awesome time considering flats, Garmin chasing and riding alone into a headwind for 30 miles.

The real winner was the Mad River Valley -- by the end of the weekend, about 80% of the roads were open, tourism was on the upswing and Gary and his team pulled off an amazing feat.

Next up - the Vermont 50!

Pan Mass Challenge 2011

"You can do anything you set your mind to, man. So lose yourself."

- Eminem

The Pan Mass Challenge is all about beating cancer. The 4600 riders, 3000 volunteers, and countless survivors alongside the road come together to form an incredible community over two days.

Day One Highlights:

• Team Hannah's Bandanas led by Jeff and Karen Packman (in honor of their daughter Hannah, a survivor) takes off like a fury out of the Wellesley start

• High fives on "world famous Cherry Street" -- every house lined up alongside with road with kids' hands reaching out to riders while shouting "THANK YOU"

• Survivors and families line nearly every block and intersection of the route.

• Somewhere after mile 70, a sign caught my eye. A 2'x3'
  picture of a young boy. As I got closer, it read "Ryan. Died at 9 years old. Thank you for riding." The sign was held by his mother. I had to go to the back of our paceline and cried for the next mile.

• Lunch consensus: Karen Packman might be the toughest person we know. Climbs the Galibier in the snow a couple of weeks ago, rides 89 miles with a numb leg thanks to a nerve problem. There is no stopping her.

• Tale of the Tape: 89 miles, 21 mph avg.

• No sign of Lance (incredible to say this, but we were ahead of him the entire day! and he skipped the finishing village).

Day Two Highlights: 50 miles with Connor

"Work it, make it, do it, makes us

Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger."

--Kanye West

• Wake up to pouring rain

• Proving his McNeill genetics, Connor says, "we're going."

• Not a single mention of not doing it as the rain comes down in sheets on the drive to the start. "This is way easier than having cancer. We can do this for the next 3 hours."

• Fred Hoff and his 12-year old son Ryan on the same program. At the start, rain gear on, ready to ride!

• 88-year-old guy at the start, in the rain, riding the whole course. Wow.

• And like yesterday, we weren't alone. Our girls were there at the start, feed stops and finish. Survivors stood on corners and at the end of drive-ways in the pouring rain to say "Thank You."

• Forecast said 1/4" of rain. Rained 3.5".

• Connor made me really proud today. Amazing guy.

• Support us here: http://www.pmc.org/profile/CM0246

Nantucket Surpise

I’m making up some family time lost last week in Italy and we snuck out to Nantucket for a long weekend. After a day in the sun, everyone was wiped out, and gave me a hall pass for a quick ride.

20-30mph winds made the ride tough.

Twelve miles into the ride, I round a corner and see a digital timeclock next to the road. The guys standing near it shout, “Hey, join our time trial!”

Hmm, that sounds kind of fun. Never done that before. Why not? I turned around.

Turns out that I’d found myself in the middle of the Nantucket Triathlon / Velo club’s weekly time trial. The group was really friendly and welcoming of a guy in Weston Posse kit on a cyclocross bike (maybe smelling fresh pack fodder). I hopped into line behind two guys on full time-trial rigs, aero helmets, Zipp disks – the works.

The really friendly organizer said, “don’t worry about keeping up with those guys. The first is my husband and he’s doing Ironman Lake Placid next weekend – he’s really fast -- and the second guy is a pro Ironman.”

Trying to build up the excuse bank, I mentioned for the 8^th or 9^th time that I’d never done this before and I was on a cyclocross bike (my max gearing on my cross bike is 46x11).

With that I got a quick course description, my 30 second warning to start and clipped in one leg. Before I knew it, “5, 4, 3, 2, 1..GO!!”

The first two minutes reminded me of the start of the Weston Sprints on skinny skis during the winter: heart rate goes from resting to max in about 15 seconds and throat burning starts immediately.

At that point, I started to realize that I didn’t know beans about how to do a time trial. I remembered hearing an interview after Lance lost a crucial time trial to Jan Ulrich in the TdF – “look, all I can do is peg my max heart rate and hold it. I can’t go any faster than that.”

So, I decided to do just that. Pegged my max heart rate (187) and decided to see how long I could take the hurt.

Believe me, it hurt. Badly.

I was pushing as hard as I could and was shockingly flying along at 23-25mph.

As I approached the turnaround I could see my 30 second man (pro) making the turn. To my shock, I wasn’t that far behind him.

Made the turn and kept pushing. Seemed forever until that digital clock showed up again for the finish.

Ready for a shock? I came in 3^rd of twelve – yes, a podium for the Posse!

2 minutes off of the pro and 1 minute off of the Ironman and averaged 23.1mph over a windy, slightly rolling course.

Very little climbing, just stubbornness to push at near barf stage for 20-30 mins. I might just have finally found something in cycling that I’m good at ? Now I’m thinking, “how do I pitch the need for a new time trial bike to Heidi? Just think of how fast I could go with a new $12,000 sled underneath me…”

Even better, earned an invite to their Saturday group ride. Can’t wait.

Am loving Fred’s island.

Last Italy Dispatch - 24 Hours in Venice

Flying out of Venice was a great way to cap off the Maratona trip. Sights and sounds from a 24-hour experience here: http://vimeo.com/26357988

Who's in for next year???

Maratona dles Dolomites - 2011

The 25th Anniversary running of the Maratona Gran Fondo. Only 99 Americans of 9,000 at the start. 1%. Turned out to be just right.

The Maratona dles Dolomites caught my eye a few years ago when it made the “must ride” list in just about every cycling magazine. Then my friend Tom did it once, a second time and then a third; raving about how great the experience was. 86 miles and 14,000 feet of climbing sounded torcherous. At Leadville or at the Tour, the courses are 20-30 miles longer to accomplish that same amount of climbing.

Well, the Maratona measured up in every way. If majestic means to echo the majesty of the creator, then these mountains are just that. Beautiful beyond what our pictures have been able to show. The beauty was actually distracting from the racing – at times you’d look up and find yourself gazing at 50 different peaks on the horizon as you crested a climb. Amazing.

It measured up too in the Italian / German approach to racing. This region is reluctantly Italian. After World War I, the penalty to starting the whole mess for the Austrians was giving up the region. The people here have clung to their language and alpine culture. The order is German and Prussian. The joy of life, the cuisine and the laid-back vibe is all Italian.

As opposed to the Etape, where elbows are sharp in the starting grid and in the feed zones, there are smiles, laughter and boisterous conversation. Very skilled descenders. Not a wiff of sketchiness. The Etape features dozens of ambulances due to the severity of the crashes. Only a couple of ambulances were out on Sunday.

Being a 1% minority felt just right. Contento.

This race is about 95% German and Italians. They were amazed that we’d come from America to ride “their” race and were extremely welcoming. “You are from America? You come here to ride this race? You crazy?”

Somehow amongst the 9,000, AndrewT, Fred, BillR, Tai, Jack and I managed to ride almost the whole course together. We’d wait at the top of climbs for the group to reform and then again at the bottom of descents. Bill was the winner of the King of the Mountains --- climbing well all day and was the lead descender too, flying by when I tried to gun it on the descents.

I was afraid of the 7^th big climb (the Giau – 13-15% for the first 4KM, 8-10% for the next 6KM), so really took it easy. On the 8^th climb, I felt like I’d left too much in the tank, caught a second wind and cranked it up the climb. It felt great. The 8KM descent on next pavement through about 20 bermed “Tornades” (sharp turns) was even better.

Then a nightmare 5K to the finish. Uphill. Strong headwind. All alone (I was too fast to pull the 80-year old men and too slow to catch the 70-year old guys). Finally to the finishing straight and a 3-up sprint for 3,577^th place ;).

Brad Cobb and Kent managed to finish in the top 100. Steve felt great and took off on the first climb and finished in the top 10%. The rest of us finished in the top third. Pretty dang good for a 1% minority, huh?

The epic story of the day? – Eric. His crank arm decided to separate from his bike and dangle by a thread. That meant with every pedal stroke, he was not only moving the crank forward, but side to side. Somehow, he managed to climb the last two climbs and descend in that condition. He gets the Ironman award. Most of us, including me, would have packed it in.

What follows are pics and video from the course provided by the race – how’s this for organization? Sitting down to dinner, we get an email with our results, splits and 24 hours later, pictures. I wanna go back.

Here's the images that the race organization gave each of us on the day (sorry, I only got my pics, so way too many shots of the big boy): http://vimeo.com/26393462

And here's the video summary from the organizers:

Giro d'Italia -- Day 3!

There's a big deal made by cyclists about resting before a big event. Stairs? No, take the elevator. Walk anywhere? No, take the car. Better yet, hire a driver. Walk to town? Wadya, nuts? No walking! Ride your bike? Just for a small spin.

All those rules were broken today. In addition, I have no explanation for the picture above.

Here's sights from today (click link): http://vimeo.com/26201268

For you iPhone, iPad users, download the Vimeo app from the app store to view this (or write Steve Jobs and ask him to end the craziness with Adobe).

Big, big day tomorrow. Will post again on Monday...

Our Giro d'Italia - Day Two

With the big ride behind us yesterday, we set out on a 3 hour, 5500' climbing day today. No more rain clouds, hello sunshine.

It's hard to describe how majestic the Dolomites are. After taking a picture, the first reaction is that the image doesn't do justice to what you're seeing live. This is the prettiest place I've been. The only thing missing is my family -- I miss you guys!!

I was pretty foggy when we left for the ride yesterday -- forgot a bunch of stuff including my camera. Yesterday was all I-phone still photos, today is all video.

Enjoy (especially the descents -- some close calls)!

For you iPhone, iPad users, download the Vimeo app from the app store to view this (or write Steve Jobs and ask him to end the craziness with Adobe).

Click here: http://vimeo.com/26198806

Italia - Day One -- BIG ride today

Alright --lot's of emails asking for daily updates. You asked for it, you got it.

We're over in Italy to test ourselves on Sunday in one of the top 50 rides in the world -- the Maratona d'les Dolomites. It's only 86 miles, but 14,000 feet of climbing -- it's going to be trouble -- here's the course profile. Nothing but up and down:

So today, we headed out to the the back 2/3's of the course (tomorrow we'll do the first third). When we first started coming over for these epic rides, we'd rest, ride just a little, eat just a little and save ourselves for the big event day. Basically, we lived like monks.

I'm psyched that we now decide to save a little less for race day and spend it riding a ton -- spending several days soaking in all that we can pack in before the race.

First off, the scenery in the Dolomites is literally breathtaking. Have you been to the Grand Tetons? Imagine Grand Tetons times 25 -- we're surrounded by peaks that are so majestic. Here's just the view from the hotel parking lot (hit play):

Today, we left that beautiful parking lot for a ~55 mile, 8,000 feet of climbing ride. Not the smartest thing to do three days before the race, but darn well worth it. We started on a 30 minute climb of the Passo Campoloungo. Freddy made it to the top and was smiling. I was re-tasting my breakfast:

Next up, 20 miles of riding over to the Passo Giau -- the big daddy, the highest point in this year's Giro and the queen climb of the queen stage 15. It's 9KM at 9.6%. What we didn't know: you climbed 5KM just to get to the base. Some breaks to take in the mountains along the way (Kent and Brad):

See those storm clouds in the distance? We decided to pay them no attention. More to come on that little decision later.

The Fun begins at the base of the Giau:

45 Mins later, we're still climbing. At one point, I'm going so slow that deer flies

just float next to me, taunting me before landing on my back (out of sight) and laying into flesh through clothing with a big chomp. Ouch!

Finally to the top and a procession of Posse riders:

Remember those storm clouds? Well they started rolling in and it got cold, dark,

windy and nasty with rain. What do you do while waiting out a storm in Italy? Spaghetti and Cappuccino anyone?? You can't have a bad meal here:

Next up? A unbelievably fun/technical/lot's of hairpins 10 mile descent. Then, you guessed it, climbing another pass. This time it's the Falzarego, 10KM at 6% (not bad):

Followed by the steep (11%) Valparolla. Military ruins up top:

We capped the day with another amazing descent down into Alta Badia. Wherein, Steve and I fell victim to a weakness we share: we cannot say no to Gelato.

More tomorrow. Arreviderci.

The Skinny Ski Racing Season Begins

It takes fitness and technique to be good XC ski racer.

I have neither.

Plus, I ate a lot over Christmas. I mean a lot. I had coconut cake, soufflés, an army of gingerbread men, pies, cookies. I even ate half a cherry tart by myself one night. With candy cane ice cream.

So, at 6p tonight, I’m still at my desk and am wondering how to mentally wiggle out of the first Tuesday night XC race of the season. I broke ribs last January and missed all of last season. I don’t want to hurt as bad as this will hurt. 40 minutes later, couldn’t come up with a winning excuse, so I’m warming up.

Pre-race meeting (“let’s be safe out there, there are some really fast guys out here, so please stay out of our way, if you are slow stay right, you know who you are, ye little people without a national or college team uniform on”): check. Lineup by seeding (head to mid-pack; check). The gun goes off and I’m double-polling at the start and holding my own. That about caused a heart attack on my part, or was it the race pace?

Whatever, the case, my heart rate is now at 190. It will stayed pegged there for the next 25 minutes!

I’m managing to hang onto Tom’s pace. We are flying. I’m not used to the speeds. My skis are going so fast underneath me, and my cadence can barely keep up with them. I’m in the back seat and bam! Down, head over heels.

Crap, about 20 people fly by. And I’ve lost Tom’s pace. Back up and I’m now hanging tough with the 60+ crowd. Nothing against those guys – they are fast oxygenarians. 4 long laps up and over Mt. Weston and they start to wear down. I decide to pounce in the last lap and try to claw my way back up to the 40-something crowd.

As the oxygenarians fade on each climb, I’m crawling back. I passed a pack of folks on that last lap. Some under 60 and some male.

And I’m thinking to myself, my buddies are on planes, ogling young McKinsey associates, enjoying a nice mini-bottle of June vintage screw-top wine while I’m slaying myself out here for back of the pack recreational racing glory.

Boy could I use some technique and fitness. Anyone for coconut cake?