Racing Season

Despite my long stint off the bike, and my late start to my training, it is already racing season. It has been for a while, actually, but because I wasn’t confident in my fitness or ability to race, I didn’t start racing till April. This is the latest I have ever started a season (ok, I haven’t been racing for long, but still). 

California Dreaming

Friday, February 12th, I got done with work and jumped in my car to head to DIA. I was hopping on a plane heading to San Francisco.

“I woke up in Littleton this morning,” I said.

“Ah, I hate it when that happens,” Michelle replied. It earned a snicker from me.

Boulder

It has been a hot minute since I last posted here. I had some things to say, but got some good news and wanted to wait until everything was official before I posted anything.

Nebraska Trip

Since I moved to Colorado in July of 2014, I had not returned to Nebraska. That all changed on Thursday. After work, Rachel, JT, and I loaded up my car and hit the road for Lincoln.

Shifting Gears and Moving Forward

It felt like fall here this morning. It was 50 degrees when I woke. My window was open, a cool breeze floating in and cooling my room to a temperature far below the rest of the house. I got up and quickly realized I was still going to be slightly cold in my t-shirt, so I threw on my Huskers hoodie (a fall and winter staple) and started my morning. The idea that fall is approaching filled me with excitement.

Boulder Stage Race

The past four Sundays, I’ve woken at 4:30, 6:15, 5:00, and 5:00 (the 6:15 day I didn’t have to set an alarm, or even be up for anything, yay!). I was up early today because I had another hillclimb to atone for my sins–and this one went straight up Magnolia. I drove early to Boulder, started getting my gear together, and promptly realized I had forgotten gloves, socks, and water. I gulped. This is going to be a long day.

The first weekend of June

“I’m tired,” Luke said.

“Yeah, me too,” the other Luke said. I looked down at my garmin, noting that I was doing 5w/kg. I couldn’t help but kind of laugh. For what seemed like the fifteenth time that day I thought I had sensed an easing of the pace. And for the fifteenth time that day I noticed I was uncomfortably close to my twenty minute wattage–that is, the most power I could generate for twenty minutes. I may have shaken my head no, or maybe just thought about it, but with that I increased my speed and took to the front of the group. This was my climb, after all.

Anger

A stream-of-consciousness post with no pictures. I guess this has no unifying theme, save the fact that I’m angry. 

Slow Progress is Lasting Progress

It is Sunday morning, and I have just finished watching the Ronde van Vlaanderen. The sun is shining, and it is a beautiful easter morning. The sound of birds chirping fills the air, and the door and windows are open to allow the beautiful day to reach inside the house. Also filling the air and possibly even more pleasing than the birdsong is the smell of sexy pancakes which still lingers from breakfast. In addition to the cinnamon, vanilla, and deliciousness of them, there is coffee on the nose as well. It is here I find myself around 9am Sunday morning.