Rule # 52 Broken is Normal

So I got back outside on my bike friday. Yes, the friday that it was like 50 degreees, pouring rain that had began very early the night before, I was outside mountain biking through the sludge, muck, wet, and cold. I then realized the beauty of rain coats...because eberyone knows you appreciate things more when you are without them. It was great fun. I felt like a caged beast finally let free to roam a slow moving, well fed field of wildebeast...or zebra, whichever you prefer. It was most wonderful. I couldn't help but enjoy every single second of finally feeling wind on my face. Of course, the ride ended when the rain picked up a whole lot and i realized I was frozen. The best part was that when I got done I looked at my reflection in the car and realized I was literally covered in mud from head to toe.

I got some new tires in on saturday that I ordered off the internet. They are some tires for cyclocross for the mountain bike so that I dont have to deal with the rolling resistance of the mountain bike tires during the races. Naturally I had to try them out. So sunday I wake up, hang out, kinda get ready to go then head out the door to go up to Auburn, Georgia to a cyclocross course to try out the tires. Anyways, its about 30-45 minutes away and I was just chillin, listenin to music on the way up so i wouldnt get my heart rate up cause I had a really tough workout to do. I'm about up there, realize I forgot my biking shoes and have to turn around and go back. So when I finally get home and get my shoes I just decide to ride on some mtn bike trails near the house. Im ridin' along, in the middle of an interval and I hear something. So I stop and look at my back wheel and boom...rule 52. I'd broke a spoke. It seems that I cant get on a bike without breaking something atleast once a week...maybe its my superhuman strength...O well. It's fun.

Till next time, wear tights and break things!

Bikes, Tykes, and Treadmills

In every man's life comes a time when he must 'take one for the team' and sit out a week. I've already done that so hopefully I won't be out of action like that again. I recently was in the gnarliest bike wreck. I got 14 stitches, a possible concussion, road rash, the works. Of course I also got one of the most painful weeks of bed rest, and the locals before the stitches didn't feel too great either...well neither does it feel good when they have to did through scabs to pull out the stitches. None the less, I got some cool scars and a fun story...for the strong stomached. Though, with the addition of scars and disfigurement came my nieces skepticism toward me...again. Everytime I change something (dual blue mohawks, stitches, etc) my niece is never quite certain whether I'm safe. She'll be all happy and giggly...then her eyes settle on me. That pretty much ends the happy giggly Kensley. O well, it's actually kind of funny. I recently was cleared to get back on the bike after having not officially riding one for nearly 2 weeks. I thought hey this is great, I'll get to get back out and ride again, something I was itching to do. Little did I know I would spend all of my time on the treadmill for bikes. the stationary trainer. On top of that, I wasn't allowed to watch tv or anything while I was on the trainer because I was supposed to focu on my cadence. Thats been real funny, let me tell you. hopefully with this ride with my coach I'll be able to get back outside. As always, thanks for reading and wasting the last 45 seconds of your life!

WHAT! ..is your favorite color??

Fall swiftly approaches bringing with it the chilly, breath seeing mornings; the yellow to orange to brown shift of the leaves; the frosty car windows (although without a car I don't have to deal with that aspect as much); and the light jackets and hoodies of college life. Yes my friend, it is arriving. I particularly noticed this most interesting fact when I went for a ride a day or two ago and the sun was fully up yet I couldn't help but wish for arm warmers when I passed through the shade or went flying down a hill. The second time this came to my senses was when I heard on the news while watching the tv on MARTA that the fall equinox is saturday.

Fall is always nice as a rider, you get to experience crisp, clean air in Atlnata (yes, a rarety i know), and the scenary is great (even blurred into a multitude of colorful streaks as I zip buy). Of course with the crisp air comes a chill that requires more material on your body than just one thin layer of lycra. Yes, this means I cover myself in the fabric. Well, I'm generaly covered, but I mean the bottom half of my legs and my arms. None-the-less fall is a most exhilerating time to ride.

Trees...

My road season ended today with a call from my coach. I found out he wants me to focus on cyclocross now because it is coming up quick fast and in a hurry and he thinks i have a real shot at winning the whole thing (which I must say is pretty darn sweet). It has sort of givin me some time to reflect on my season though and some of the "exotic" (if only I could actually claim that) places that I've been. In all actuality, there was probably immense beauty in some of the places I've raced. Let's face it, I've raced in Tennessee two or three times and I've been all over Georgia. There had to be some beautiful scenery. In thinking about this I tried to recall some of what I had seen. I noticed a definate trend in what I remebered...it was all green and sort of blurred together with occasional splotches of color here and there. In racing, you never get to really experience the beauty of where you are riding. However, I can recall scenary on training rides very easily. For instance, I went mountain biking for the first time yesterday (yeah, it was fun but I am no world class mountain biker by any stretch of the words) and I remember all 5 or so trees that I nearly clipped. I can picture them in my head clear as day.

Even though I had marked success this season, every race that favored me even a little (races with GOOD uphill finishes where a strong pull up it would demolish the field giving me an undisputable win) I got jipped out of. In Dahlonega I missed a turn due to a) my concentration on the road in front of me and b) poor markings and a lack of volunteers to say 'turn here' like they have in tennessee and by the time i realized it i had gone 15 minutes in the wrong direction which put me out of that race. In a race in Rome my cassette came unscrewed from my wheel (i didnt know that was the problem at the time, otherwise I would have swapped wheels) so I had to ride the wheel truck in to the finish. And then Finally, the last race to favor me (Murphy, NC) got cancelled.

O well, I'll get 'em all next year. I know what I can do to thwart any attempt by my bike or the race directors to eliminate me from the race...

Rule #1 Superheros Wear Tights

Cycling, it seems, is often looked down upon by many. Perhaps because we shave our legs (yes, I admit it...I shave my legs regularly), or perhaps because we wear spandex when we ride, or maybe its the fact that the drivers INSIST upon having that extra 12 inches of a lane that is plenty big enough for the both of us. Maybe it's really none of these things; maybe what people really hate is that we enjoy our meager existence and thrive off the competition. This really hit me as a thing today as I was nearing the end of my ride. I had mistakenly missed my turn, and being in downtown, quickly ended up in the ghetto. I didn't much notice at first because I was lost in the pure enjoyment I get from riding (or I was really tired and my mind had done a trademark wander at a particularly crucial moment...either option is completely viable) none-the-less, I began to notice when I almost got run off the road by a police car; then I noticed 2 police cars at the corner of a seemingly inocuous intersection; and finally I noticed that even the 2 foot tall black children walking by themselves were giving me dirty looks. I suddenly came to the realization that I had missed my turn and ended up in about the worst possible place. Needless to say I pulled a quick U-ey and sprinted back to the street I meant to turn onto.

So really the question is, what is to hate about a finely tuned athletic machine? Perhaps people are uneducated about the sport. Quite possibly, it is the old 'we are afraid of what we don't know'. There is a good chance that the sport would be more respected if the masses knew to what extent we push our bodies.

Also, these negative feelings towards the sport could just have easily stemmed from the media. The only Time America hears about cycling is when 56 cyclist get ejected from the tour the night before because of blood doping, or when the american stud that just won the race gets disqualified because he used artificially created testosterone. What gets me most though is that even when an american who has reached the highest achievement, even further than what the greats of the sport dreamed ever possible, and does it without ever failing a drug test, gets accused by the french press (of course they would, an american is dominating their race) of using EPO (a performance enhancing drug) the american public believes it.

Anyways, thank you to whomever read this feeble attempt to sound somewhat intelligent. I appreciate the gesture.