06.2.2010 | 8:42 am
You know how Gary Fisher gave away a Superfly in Fat Cyclist colors as part of the contest I did with Johan Bruyneel last December? AKA the “FattyFly?” Well, there’s a little piece of the story I haven’t been telling you about. It started when I saw the photo (click for a larger version) for this bike:
I wanted one. So. Bad.
But I wanted something a little different. And so I used my most extraordinary and useful superpower — asking people for stuff — in a rare and ethically complex way: I started asking if they could make me a Superfly SS, in Fat Cyclist colors.
A FattyFly SS.
And, well, take a look at the photos Travis Ott sent me yesterday (click for larger versions). Here’s a shot from the front:
And here’s one from the top:
It’s shipping today. It should arrive sometime next week, at which point there will be a “This One’s For Me, Part II” post.
I already own most of the components for this bike; they’ll be transferred over from my old Superfly SS (for those of you about to ask, I already sold the frame to a friend). With a couple changes, naturally. I smell a sub-18-pound bike in my very near future.
There will be no fundraiser. There will be no giveaway.
This will be the world’s one and only FattyFly SS. And it is mine.
PS: Full disclosure: I paid for this frame, but below retail.
Comments (63)
06.1.2010 | 10:35 am
After work today, I’m going to go ride to the top of the Alpine Loop. I’m going alone, and I’m going hard. As hard as I can, in fact. And I can’t help but wonder:
How fast (or slow) will that be?
Last year, at the fastest and lightest point I had been in years and years, I did the climb — 10.5 miles, 3000 feet of climbing — in 53:11.
Of course, I weighed 156 pounds back then — as opposed to 162 right now. That’s not going to help. And that was back at the end of the season, when I was as strong as I get. This time, it’s early in the season.
So I’ll be slower, certainly. The best I can hope for, really, is a 56-minute climb. I’d be very happy with that, in fact.
Heck, I’d be happy with a 58-minute climb right now.
Obviously, The American Fork side of the Alpine Loop (from the toll booth to the beginning of the parking lot turnoff at the top) has become one of my most important personal yardsticks — a measuring device to help me get a sense of what kind of cyclist I am right now.
My Collection of Yardsticks
The Alpine Loop, though, is only one of my yardsticks. In the next couple of weeks, I’m going to go as hard as I can up a number of different local climbs:
- North Side of Suncrest: 3.6 miles, 1300 feet. It’s as brutal as it is brutish. Last year, my best time was 18:57. Which tells you that during the last three minutes I was genuinely at my limit. You don’t come that close to under a minute mark without feeling like you are about to barf. Or explode. Or barf, explosively. If I recall correctly, I cried when I got to the top of this climb. If I can beat this time by even one second sometime this year, I will be very proud.
- Clark’s: This one’s a mountain bike trail. I don’t know what the distance is, and I don’t know what the altitude gain is. But I do know that when I finished it in under ten minutes last year (9:50), I texted every single friend I have letting them know what I had just done. This year, the trail’s been rerouted; people are guessing it’s about 30 seconds longer of a course. Which means I may never see a sub-10 time on that trail again. Alas.
- Sundance: This is a peculiar yardstick. I try to do the road climb from the Provo Canyon turnoff to the Sundance ski resort without ever dropping my speed below 8mph. I have succeeded in doing this exactly one time. This is also an interesting yardstick because I haven’t actually tried doing this in more than six years — when I was in my 30’s. Now that I’m in my mid-40’s, I wonder how I’ll do. Honestly, I feel like I’m no slower than I was five years ago, but I don’t know if that’s true.
- Squaw Peak : This is another climb I haven’t actually timed myself on in at least six years or so. In fact, it’s been so long since I’ve kept score of my speed up this road — 4 miles, about 1800 feet if I remember correctly — that I don’t even remember what my best time was. I’m pretty sure, though, that I was always trying to get up in under half an hour, and I never did. Judging from this year’s best times, though, it looks like Rick Sunderlage (not his real name) has easily eclipsed that half hour mark. Which just goes to show something I knew anyway: Rick is much, much faster than I am.
Of course, all of these yardsticks are just ways I track how I’m doing as I get ready for what is in fact my most important annual yardstick of all: The Leadville 100. This’ll be my 14th start…and hopefully, 13th completion.
I’ve wanted sub-9 for so long — more than a decade — on this race. Never got it, though I’ve been close — 9:13 once, 9:14 another time — a couple times.
“Maybe,” I think every year, “This is the year.”
And this year, it may even be true. I think I’ve got a good enough start to the season that I may be able to drop the remaining winter blubber, get fast, and finally get that big belt buckle — you know, the one Kenny has almost a dozen of — instead of yet another little belt buckle.
It’ll be close, that’s certain. Close enough that I’m thinking I may go ahead and go with a geared bike instead of a single speed. Close enough that I’m thinking hard about whether a suspension fork buys me more than it costs me, time-wise
Yes, these are the things that keep me awake at night.
The Yardstick Doesn’t Matter, Except It Does
The thing about having these yardsticks is, they’re scary. I’m nervous for my Alpine Loop Climb TT right now — like for a big race — even though it’s just me. And there’s no prize. And honestly, nobody in the world (except Mark, because I know he’s going to try to outdo me) cares about how I do.
They’re totally meaningless, really.
But they also couldn’t be more important.
Comments (42)
05.27.2010 | 8:56 am
There’ve been a couple of stories going around about cheating and cycling. The highest-profile one, of course, is about Floyd Landis and his admissions and accusations.
The other story hits closer to home: a woman who used another woman’s registration to race the Leadville 100 last year, and then — having placed second in her friend’s age group — got caught and prosecuted with a felony (plead down to a misdemeanor) charge.
I’ve been thinking about both of these events and have a few random and unresolved things to say about them.
The Problem With Floyd
I am not the best person in the world to detail what the progression of events was in the case of Floyd Landis and his four-plus-year-long doping scandal epic. Here are the facts (at least I think they’re facts) that seem relevant to me right now:
- Floyd was accused of doping.
- Floyd spent a lot of his money and time — and a lot of other people’s money and time — defending himself against this accusation.
- I believed Floyd, just like I believed Tyler. (I like to believe people.)
- Floyd admitted he was lying.
- Floyd also accused a bunch of other people of doping and helping people dope.
So as far as I can tell, here are my choices with regards to believing Floyd:
- I can believe that he was lying before, but telling the truth now about himself and others.
- I can believe that he was lying before, is now telling the truth now about himself, but is making up a new batch of lies about others.
- I can believe that he lied before, is lying about himself now, and is also making lies up about others.
Which is the most likely scenario? Well, probably not the third one, although it’s only a third more ridiculous than the other two options. But seriously, I have no compelling reason to believe scenario 1 or 2 is more likely.
Why can’t I make a good guess? Well, I have already proven that I judge his motivations and degree of honesty poorly; it’d be stupid for me to think that I’m any better at it now than I was then.
But one thing’s certain: no matter how much truth he’s choosing to tell now, he took a long time to choose to tell it. And I really doubt that this is a conscience-clearing decision; I have a very difficult time imagining that Floyd would be making these confessions and accusations if he had never been popped for doping.
Everyone makes mistakes. No, that’s weak; we’re not talking about mistakes here. Everyone does bad things.
But not everyone gets so twisted up in their errors that they can’t ever be taken seriously again, even when they make very serious allegations.
The Problem With Wendy
Last year, Wendy Lyall (36) took Katie Brezelton’s Leadville 100 spot. Then she finished second in the women’s 40-49 category.
Those of you who are good at math will have noticed that most women who are 36 years old are usually not between the ages of 40 and 49. It’s incredibly rare, in fact.
Most people, when talking about this story, focus on the — admittedly ridiculous — aspect of Mark Hulbert’s pursuit of felony charges against Wendy and Katie (now plead down to misdemeanor).
As far as I can tell, nobody at all has mentioned Jacqui Wood, who was the person Wendy knocked off the podium by cheating.
And of course nobody at all considers that a certain woman known here as The Runner might have found the legs and heart to push herself to be a mere 26 seconds faster if she had known that’s what it would have taken for her to be on the podium herself.
If other people hadn’t cheated.
So here’s the thing: The right time to have made that apology would have been before the awards ceremony. Wendy and Katie apologized, but they did it only after being caught. Which makes the apology feel a lot more like “I’m sorry you caught me” than “I’m sorry I stole a spot on the podium.”
The Problem With Fatty
I should point out, though, that I’m at fault as well. I’ve cheated before; the difference is I haven’t had to admit it because I never got caught (do you think Floyd would be saying anything at all right now if he had never been popped for doping?)
I’ll give you an example.
I was racing the Brian Head 100 one year — I forget what year, honestly, because I did the race several times — and found myself in a surprising position early in the race: very far ahead of where I ought to be, relative to the field. I was surprised, yet pleased.
It was only later that I realized that I had made a wrong turn, cutting a couple miles and a big climb off the course.
I finished with a fast — though not winning or even podium-ing among my age group — time. So I didn’t say anything to the organizers.
But who knows? Maybe I knocked someone out of the age group top-10 spot they were hoping for, or something like that.
Until now, it never occurred to me that my not speaking up might have affected someone else’s race results. Now, however, I know: I should have told the organizers that I should be DQ’d, and now I really wish I would have.
And maybe that’s the lesson here. When you race, the main thing your entry fee buys you is the right to compare yourself to other people. And if you cheat, you’re screwing up the yardstick for everyone.
So here’s the giant epiphany, the big payoff for this big ol’ navel gazing session: cheating is bad. And as a sub-epiphany: you don’t know who you’re damaging by cheating, nor how much. And as a tertiary minor epiphany, if you’ve been caught cheating — as opposed to openly confessing it, you can forget about moral high ground.
It’s almost enough to make me consider cutting back on the EPO.
After the season ends, I mean.
PS: The last real day of school for the kids is today; we’re going on a little vacation. I’ll be back Tuesday.
PPS: All profits from the Johan Bruyneel collection continue — through the rest of this month — to go to Team Fatty’s LiveStrong Challenge. Read details here, then go get yourself something Johanesque to wear here.
Comments (119)
05.26.2010 | 8:08 am
A Note from Fatty: You probably know Noodle from her incredible “100 Miles of Nowhere” video last year. Well, she continues to be a remarkable supporter of Team Fatty in our fight against cancer. Well, she crashed into a patch of poison ivy on Day 4 of her Trans-America ride to raise money for Team Fatty Austin, broke her wrist and blacked out, and had to be airlifted to the hospital. She’s back in New York and on the mend, but I’m sure it would mean a lot to her if you dropped by her blog and left her a comment of support. You can also follow her on Twitter.
Fight Cancer, Look Stylish
Between the big LiveStrong / World Bicycle Relief fundraiser, my trip to Tucson and my trip to California, Johan Bruyneel had done plenty of nice things for me (and others lately).
But last night, I got this email from him:
Elden -
Back in Europe and I wanted to send you a quick email. First, it was so great to see you and Lisa on Saturday at the TT. We enjoyed having you by the bus and in the car for the ride behind Mura! It was an experience for me and Eki too, as normally there’s a quiet mechanic sitting back there!!
Secondly, thank you for all you’ve done and continue to do for all these philanthropic organizations. Whether it be for LIVESTRONG, World Bicycle Relief, Amgen Breakaway from Cancer or your nephew in need of a new kidney, you continue to inspire me and remind me that it’s about more than just winning bike races. From the comments I’ve read on my Twitter and Facebook pages and your blog, it’s safe to say that many people are inspired by you as well.
From our discussions, I know you have some big fundraising goals for Team Fatty at the LIVESTRONG Challenges. So I was thinking of a way that I can help the 2010 Team Fatty. What about if we donated 100% of the profits from my online clothing store — from Wednesday, May 26 til the end of May — to Team Fatty’s goal in support of LIVESTRONG? Whoever buys anything from the online store, we’ll give all the profits to LIVESTRONG via Team Fatty. I think that may be a simple way to help you and your team out. Let me know your thoughts.
Let’s also talk more about the other idea we discussed on Saturday. Something to think about when the season is over.
Need to go now.
Take care.
JB
Well. That’s kind of awesome, isn’t it?
Check out some of the cool stuff from the Johan Bruyneel Collection. I really dig the “Cobbles” t-shirt:
And the “Bruyneel Cycling” t-shirt is very cool too:
And I wouldn’t mind having the “ride” jacket at all:
There’s lots of other cool designs there, too. So: check out the Johan Bruyneel Collection here. You’ll get some cool clothes and you’ll be helping Team Fatty fight cancer.
PS: If you haven’t joined Team Fatty in our fight against cancer yet, you should. For one thing, we’re doing something important here. For another, the more — and sooner — you raise, the better your chances of winning something outrageously cool.
And I’m not being hyperbolic here; the stuff I will be announcing soon is going to make your jaw drop. And — get this — money you have already raised is going to improve your chances for winning every contest I run.
So, just hypothetically, imagine that I’m going to give away four really amazing prizes in the next few months (those of you who have followed this blog for a while might have an idea what an “amazing prize” might be). And suppose you sign up right now for Team Fatty in any of the four cities, and you raise $500 before the first contest is even announced. Well, that $500 gets you chances to win in all four of those big giveaways.
In short, join Team Fatty, raise a lot of money, and do it soon. You may win something nearly too awesome for words.
So get started. Pick a city and sign up:
- Seattle: June 19 – 20
- San Jose: July 10 – 11
- Philly: August 21 – 22
- Austin: October 22 – 24
- NYC Marathon !!! (Haven’t gotten the Team Fatty signup worked out yet; more on this soon)
Comments (29)
05.25.2010 | 5:20 am
Before I get to the conversation we had when driving behind Dmitriy Muravyev, I’d like to give you a little insight into Johan Bruyneel.
If I were to use two words to describe Johan Bruyneel when he’s acting as director of his team, they would be “centered” and “professional.” If I were allowed a third word, it would be “kind.”
If, on the other hand, when Bruyneel is driving the team car, those two words would be “multitasking” and “completely insane.”
I am confident that Bruyneel never touched the brake around any corner during the drive, which meant — until I learned to always keep a hand on the overhead grip — that I was being flung left and right, forward and backward.
I’m pretty sure that Bruyneel was one of the stunt drivers for The Fast and the Furious.
Meanwhile, Bruyneel was talking with me, talking with Eki, talking on the phone, staying within twenty feet of his racer, and checking email.
Just another day at the office, right?
Radio-Free Dmitriy
“We won’t be using a radio for Dmitriy,” Johan told me right off the bat. “He’s just taking the time trial easy.”
Which, on one hand, was a little disappointing. One of the things I was really looking forward to was the radio back-and-forth. On the other hand, I was surprised to learn that any rider with a car behind him wouldn’t have a radio.
Also, as I watched Dmitriy’s speed hit — and pass — 30mph on the flats, I wondered how anyone could call that “taking it easy.” Especially since Dmitriy passed the racer ahead of him about a lap into the two-lap course.
“So what kinds of things do you tell racers in a time trial if they do have a radio?” I asked.
“Different racers want different things. Motivation, whether they should shift gears, split times, upcoming turns, where the road surface is better.”
“Tell me what you do on the radio differently between Lance and Levi,” I pressed.
“For Lance, he just wants the numbers until he gets to the last 5KM,” Johan said, “and then he wants motivation. For Levi, I’m shouting in his ear for the whole time. Chris Horner never wants anything but just the basic information.”
Which made me think: if I were a professional cyclist with a radio in my ear, I would want my director to speak to me in rhyming couplets.
Watch Yer Toes
“There’s a good crowd out,” remarked Johan at one point (I should note that I’m not ignoring stuff Eki said; he simply didn’t say much. He was busy tracking and noting splits.).
“But this is nothing compared to a mountaintop finish in the Tour de France,” I said. “How do you press through crowds like that? And do riders ever get freaked out by the crowds?”
“Well, the crowds aren’t as bad as they look on TV for one thing,” said Johan. “But they can press in pretty close.”
“So what do you do?”
“You just keep on going. If you stop or slow down they’ll never let you through. I’ve run over peoples’ toes, and knocked cameras out of their hands with my side mirrors.”
So you know that plan you were cooking up where you’d jump in front of Johan’s car and demand an autograph from whatever rider happened to be in there? Yeah, probably not so great of an idea.
We’re Not Done Yet
At one point, I finally got up the courage to say, “Hey, we’ve done something really great here, and I had a lot of fun. Once you get to the off-season, we should do another contest like this.”
“We should,” agreed Johan. And then he went on to detail his idea — evidently he already had something in mind. Something really, really cool.
But then he made me promise not to reveal what it is just yet.
After the Ride
Of course, my ride didn’t last all that long — about 45 minutes or so — and then it was time for someone else to get a turn riding in the team car — the RadioShack CEO, bigshots from Trek, Matthew McConaughey, and other people who are 80% as famous and beloved as I am.
After that, The Runner and I went and hung out at the finish line, watching the racers come in for their first lap time check and then for their finish.
And really, it’s just amazing how fast these guys are. I mean, most of them were faster than me.
Here’s Dave Zabriskie, starting his second lap:
And Michael Rogers starting his second lap:
And Levi Leipheimer, sprinting into the finish:
And here’s The Runner, digging our VIP passes as much as I was:
As we wandered around, we ran into quite a few people who read the blog. And while it’s always a little weird having someone recognize me and ask for a photo, it’s a gratifying and cool kind of weird, because every time someone wants to say hi, it’s because they’re glad to be a part of Team Fatty and what we’ve done — and what we’re doing.
And believe me, we’re going to be doing some awesome stuff soon. Stay tuned.
Final Thoughts
Here’s my take on Johan Bruyneel: I didn’t see any of the planning and strategy part of his job, but I think the results of that pretty much speak for themselves.
What I did notice about Johan, though, is he’s an incredibly centered and calm person. In the middle of a big race day, he was completely calm and at ease. My guess is that this kind of stability and grounding counts for a lot when you’re a nervous racer under a lot of pressure.
And I think it goes without saying that Johan’s got his heart in the right place, and has a mind that lets him make a difference. I mean, think about it: he turned a joke post I wrote back last December into a big fundraiser in the fight against cancer, a big fundraiser for World Bicycle Relief, and gave a normal guy unheard-of access to a pro cycling team. I admire Johan; he’s a great guy.
And all in all, this wasn’t a half-bad day.
Comments (43)
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