Nonigret

It's probably for the best.. since I drove up to Boston today, drove home in the afternoon, grabbed the family, drove down to Ninigret Park.. only to discover that the place has been taken over by some carnie folks. Man what a bummer. I centered the past few days of training around the idea of racing tonight and once again: pfffffffftttt. After wasting over an hour of my family's time driving to Charlestown and back, I didn't have it in me to say "okay- no race, but now I must train". I almost did it, but what truly stopped me is that I was feeling totally spent from work and from all the driving I did today. Spent. The drive to Ninigret only to discover the race is off, really took the wind out of my sails on top of being so fatigued.. I wish I had gone to Wompatuck instead, straight from Boston.. but then my family wouldn't be able to go with me.

Two month look ahead

This much I'm sure about:
Next weekend: Concord Crit
August 9: Rochester Twilight Crit
August 17: Fall River Crit
August 23: Chris Thater Memorial Crit
September 13-14: Bob Beal Stage Race
Other events will be thrown into the mix, on impulse.

Pissed

I did everything right. Trained right. Rested. Shaved. Cleaned the chain, rings, der and cassette (which I loath), went to bed early.. And for what? To wake up to a downpour. Sorry Norwell. Maybe next year. What really turns my crank is that the rain has not let up long enough to do a decent training ride. I'm relegated from racing, and from proper training, to the forking wind trainer.. You wait all week for the weekend and then pfffffffttt... Now I just want to punch somebody or something.
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'A mountain bike changed my life'

CNN Hero's nonprofit Pedals for Progress gives new life to used bicycles
Dave Schweidenback saw transformative effects of bikes while in the Peace Corps
More than 115,000 used bikes have been sent to 32 developing countries since '91
Low-cost bikes help local residents gain access to jobs, health care and schools

 

"There's a bike that's unloved in every garage in this country. Rather than put these old bikes in landfills for no reason, we can use them as economic stimulus to aid our neighbors," Schweidenback says.

"This is the transfer of wealth between nations because these have great value overseas. And they give people the ability to hold a job or a child the ability to go to school."

Full story on CNN 

 

Get Involved: Pedals for Progress

In Depth: CNN Heroes

Nominate your CNN Hero

 

Hear hear! Let's find a home for all those cyclo-cross bikes that hang dormant for 10 months out of each year! Send them to far away places to enhance people's lives. Such a waste otherwise..

Smelly shoes: "This can't be healthy"

It was summer of 2005 when I bought the pair of cycling shoes which I use currently (I now realize)- a pair of DMT Ultramax Flash or something or other. My previous DMTs came apart after just a couple of rainy rides. This current pair though- I'm blown away by the durability. They were made in Bosnia, of all places, and let me tell you- these things have been soaked through at least 20 times in the past few seasons. I've changed the cleats on them for the 5th time. Still, they look pretty good and fit me superbly after three years of abusive use and crashes. I even put custom DIY insoles in there (the kind you heat in the oven) so they conform to my feet perfectly. Unfortunately, all of this rainy riding and stuffing them with newspaper overnight, has made these things smell hideous. I'm basically considering replacement for that reason alone, otherwise I can see these shoes lasting through next season. But there comes a point on the smell-o-meter where you have to say "Whoa, this can't be healthy". I can't imagine the vast numbers and varieties of microscopic friends who now accompany me on every ride. I'm thinking they probably weigh a lot more than they did when I bought them, kind of like a mattress, which gets heavier from use over the years. Gross.

I can't believe it's really been three years since I bought these. That's a blog post from when I first started out with my other blog, Amerikan Turk. Seems I got my money's worth ($139 actually)

Thanks.

Weekend of Rest

No ride Sat no ride Sunday. We went to Scarborough Beach today- it totally smelled like ass- I could not get myself to swim in that freezing smelly water. We didn't stay too long. I was tempted to do a lite easy spin on the bike, but I have to admit- I don't really feel like riding lately. The thought of training hard- I'm not into it like before. It's been eight hard months of training for me. No wins. No podiums. A fair amount of stress and depression. No real vacation to speak of. Borderline burnout. So I took Mon, Tues, Sat and Sun off the bike. No doubt I'll be paying for it in terms of speed, but maybe some freshness will make up for it. Since Attleboro/New Britain last weekend, I am dead tired and very lacking in motivation. So tired.. And no amount of sleep or rest is helping. What is wrong with me?
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Dead Legs

Skipped riding Monday and Tuesday. Commuted to/from work yesterday. (Even rode the bike to lunch) Also did a couple hours today after work. Threw in a couple of back to back 3 minute FT intervals. They hurt a lot more than they should have. Am I going to be flying after this rest week? I'm beginning to wonder. Next "A" race in my crosshairs: the Rochester Omnium Weekend, the 35+ crit, that is. August 9th. There's some other stuff before then, but none are A or even B events for me.
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The Jouney Ends

It has been an epic trip for my family, one which began on May 23rd and which ends today, in one hour. Once today's page is turned, it's as though a chapter has ended. It's time for an intermission. For any of you who have followed me on this journey, who have prayed for me to be strong, who have shared in my sorrow and mourned the loss of my father with me, who have imagined themselves beside me on my breath taking bike rides on the coast or in the mountains, who have cared for me deeply enough to leave me supportive comments or write me privately: I salute you and offer my sincere Thanks and Love. I now sit here at Boston Logan Airport's Terminal E, sipping coffee and sitting front row of the arrivals gate. With an hour or so before wife Ebru and son Reis emerge through the doors marked 'No Entry', what else is left to do besides try to conjure up a happy ending? Regrettably, I don't have any such words to offer at the moment.
Healing is not a destination, it's a journey. Healing is repair. Healing makes what was broken, stronger than it was before. In order for my father to build his first kanun from scratch, he needed to break his 25 year old kanun down into a pile of broken wooden parts, in order to know how to build one himself. And when we bike racers ttake punishingly fast training rides, perform eye popping intervals and leg breaking climbs, we're also destroying things in order for them to be rebuilt stronger, in order to force an adaptation which makes us better, faster, more powerful.. And never were the six words I now live by more compelling and beautiful than when Father began chemotherapy treatment, which pumps a harmful poison into the body in a sort of scorched earth manner, killing most of the bad cells but also devastating some of the good.. Like a controlled forest fire. I saw what he went through and I saw him fight and never give up. I saw him down, and I saw him getting kicked while he was down. I've even kicked him a few times myself, long ago.. I saw him getting back up over and over and over again. No matter how hard he hit the deck.. He was my champion.. And he is sorely missed.
From all of this, no one has become as enriched as I have.. No one.. And now, these six words ring as true as ever:
"We are created, by being destroyed."
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New Britain Criterium 2008 Results

Again, I do not have them all, sorry.

Ivan Basso, or not?

A friend who I went to high school with, below, claims to be hanging out with Ivan Basso someplace out west- Utah I think.. I told him he was FOS and he sent me a picture on Facebook, below. Is there any doubt that this is indeed Ivan Basso?

New Britain Pro-Am

43rd in the Pro race, for what it's worth.. 91 starters, 69 finishers. Just cruised in the field the whole time. Little tiny bit of cramp with 2 to go.. But that's 80 miles of crit racing bro.. Nothing to be ashamed of.. 90 percent of that field had fresh legs. I had already raced 40 miles.

Updated** New Britain Criterium: 15th

Hopes, dashed. I was in the winning break of the 35+ race. I'm in rotation with 7 other guys and I'm on the wheel of some dildo who keeps sprinting when he gets to the front. Last I checked, accelerations in a paceline are supposed to happen at the BACK, not at the fucking front. Blew my fucking wad as he kept gapping me, which means that not only am I taking a pull, I'm sucking wind all during Dildo's pull too. I'm so pissed at myself for letting the situation throw me.. I should have just pushed the fucker into the grass and said goodbye.. Not that I'm capable of any such behavior.. But that's what I wish I had done. A top 8 result was locked up for me, and I ended up drifting back with 5 to go. Yeah it's true that yesterday's three crits are still heavy in my legs.. But I didn't feel THAT bad. With one lap to go, I could see that Mike N was not happy about missing the break. He got one of his domestiques to uncork an incredible acceleration which left the whole field in their wake, big gap, with me in between. I turned myself inside out on the back stretch to get on Mike's wheel. I got close, but never made it. Up through the chicane, I was alone and flying (maybe not alone.. maybe I was the lead out for the field, I didn't turn my head). I dove into the final corner as fast as humanly possible, but the needle was almost on empty at this point. The wind was GUSTING diagonally all day, and the final straight was into a fierce cross-head wind. I unloaded everything I had left in the final straight and I was passed by six guys by the time I crossed the line. With the seven places up the road and Mike N taking a very hard earned 8th, that put me in 15th spot, just a few places off of my 2007 result. (2007 I was 12th in the field sprint, which I lead out. Today I was 6th in the field sprint which I also lead out, so a marginal improvement this year, relative to 2007)

The 30+ which followed- Another break, which went very early. The field was letharic and I was feeling okay.. but then I made a bone headed move on the final lap, right in the start finish- I attacked and took a flyer. I was swallowed and spit out the back with 1/2 lap to go.. What was I thinking? Maybe that my legs were not totally fried from racing 5 times in the past 24 hours? Stupid me.. Finished pretty much DFL. There was a 7 man break up the road, and sprinting for 8th didn't seem too interesting. Only 35 or so starters anyway.. I'm bummed right now.. But I'm resting up for the Pro race which starts in about an hour. Just want to motorpace that one and maybe sneak into the top 20 somehow. That might make me feel better.

Hindsight, it's stupid to do so many races and expect to be fresh enough for a good result. Skip race no 1, let everyone lose their freshness and jump into the 2nd race. Yesterday, Bill Y did just that at Attleboro and won. Didn't tire himself out racing the 35+ and the Pro race. My 6th at Keith Berger two weeks ago was no accident. Mine was the race after the 40+, so 1/2 the field was tired and hurting. They happily let the break go, and with my fresh legs I had a big advantage. I already knew this stuff, but I just love to race. Guess I should be happy with my mediocrity. I'm diluting my ability across too many events, by choice. Maybe it's time to adjust the game plan for the rest of the season. Skip the first Master race, do the 2nd one with guns blazing. Do what works for a change. Thanks for reading

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Updated 9:55 pm

Attleboro Criterium 2008 Results

Sorry no results from the Cat 3 or 4 race, though I can tell you that Christian Eager of Quad Cycles won the cat 3 race, and did it nicely. Here's a video of that finish:
As for me, I used today as a tune up for tomorrow's New Britain Criterium. Not to say I didn't try today- I did.. but I didn't turn myself inside out for a result either. In the 35+ I felt like a P.O.S. and got 22nd. In the Pro-1-2 I had hardly any water, and after 30 very easy minutes motorpacing the field, I had to quit or risk dehydration. In the 30+ I felt a little better and got 10th in that one, which sounds great, but only 29 finished. I was feeling good about it until I discovered that the 10 places which were advertised on Bikereg were changed to 8 places. Why there are two different race flyers? I have N.F.I. but it was a buzz-kill. A good day at the races. Our Matt Kressy took 8th in the Pro race and Kyle Gates took 11th in the 35+. Adam got himself into a couple of strong looking breaks but they didn't stick. We had Joe, Scott and Brendan in the cat 3 race, we had Brendan and Scott in the 30+ race, Mike Samartano in the 35+ race and I discovered later that he hit the deck in that one. I hope he's in one piece.

Tour of the Hiltons

As pro-promoter as I'd like to be, here is a case where mediocre aging cat 2's are pretty much boned: 2008 Tour of the Hiltons. (sp.. deliberate) Sometimes I feel like the six year old who wishes he were twelve, or in this case, forty. Not.. that.. I.. can climb or anything.. If I was a gifted or even a mediocre climber, I'd look at this and pass. Who pays $35 to race 97 miles for the chance to win part of an $800 purse? If it's all about the glory, fine.. I love race promoters, don't get me wrong. Just don't require me to love their races. It would appear I am most certainly not racing on July 26th.. but I encourage everyone ELSE to go for it. Have a ball. I'll be at the beach.

For Future Reference

I find myself ranked suspiciously high right now, but these rankings evolve on a daily basis, depending upon new results added and 12 month old results falling off the average. I am perhaps the only one who looks to this list as a motivator, but I doubt it. In a few days, my 2007 New Britain results will drop off, hopefully to be replaced with some fine placings at Attleboro and New Britain next weekend. See where I stand now.

On a national scale of masters criterium racers, I find myself ranked 233 out of 4307 Masters. Here's the complete list. Nega-Coach is sure to chime in and tell us that everyone except for the top three on the list, suck.. or that they suck the least.

MapMyFitness

Hey this site doesn't work half bad- it got the mileage almost spot on. Looking back upon my Powertap files, I find that the last time I did a ride of 250 TSS or more, was June 12th in Turkey. Then there was yesterday. I did the little 56 mile loop that I like so much. I wouldn't call it time trial pace, it was more like "tempo trial" pace- something I can sustain without cramping, without needing to slow down and without tasting puke. To complete this ride in the time that I did it in, I had to force it on the climbs, and I did every single hill in the big ring. Of course I blew away my old PR by over 2 minutes too. Here's the route below, which may be hard to understand because it doubles back upon itself in a few places for short periods:

Not a drop of rain during all of this.. I came home after 2:47:17 on the bike, and then went back out for another 15 minutes to spin and cool down.. and to make it an even 60 miles/3 hours. This ride should pay dividends later on. Having skipped Fitchburg (per usual for me) I wanted to do a ride which was at least comparable in duration to what everyone raced today up in Mass.. (though my route climbs only 2500' total) I don't think I can repeat the effort today. My legs are really cooked. If anything I'll do a few hours in the little ring, take a trip down to Narragansett Beach or Scarborough with my backpack. Put my feet in the sand.. lay down and relax.. assuming it stops raining.

Nin-regrets

I was supposed to do two hours of endurance pace tonight, but I needed my fix of pointless hammering on a flat, enclosed track with 50 other like minded folks, so I headed down to Ninigret to see what I could find. A light field- by virtue of the absence of many heavy hitters- presumably due to Fitchburg and Masters Nationals this weekend.. but there were still the usual pain-cave dwellers.. or I should say, the ones who put me in my pain cave..
Nothing much to report besides spending as much time as humanly possible at the front, suffering immeasurably.. Then an unfortunate event- our man Brendan stacked it up in the sharp leftie, or should I say in "Murat's corner".. A few of us stopped to make sure he wasn't road kill.. just some epidermal deletions that looked like scrambled eggs. Yum. So I got to take a lap's rest with about 6 to go. Once we knew Brendan wasn't going to die on us, I jumped back into the action and gave a few digs at the front for the remaining 5 laps. Kudos to brother Rick K for separating himself from our chase group and soloing home. I tried to reach, I pulled off looking for help with 1/2 lap to go, and the boys just didn't have it to bridge. Nice. Good times were had by all (except Brendan.. for whom bathing will now SUCK for many days)

Caught out

A pretty intense workout was scheduled for last night, and I was sick of the same old roads, and I was in the mood to be near the water, so I went out to route 1 in Warwick and headed south towards the beaches. Once onto route 1A in North Kingstown I started the "micro-burst" intervals. Which go like this:

15 sec @ 150% FT

15 sec @ 50% FT

Repeat for 5:00

Recover 5:00

Repeat intervals for 10:00

Recover 5:00

Repeat intervals for 10:00

It's not as easy as it sounds! 150% of FT is similar to CP3, so it's a hard effort- similar to the accelerations you would do after turning the corner in a crit, but seated. By the end of the third set of ten minutes, I was thrashed, and tasting puke.

So I made it all the way to Narraganset Town Beach- where I pulled a u-turn during one of my 15 second rest intervals- no time to swim.. Nice tailwind home.. but not strong enough to get me home before dark. Caught out in the dark wihtout even a blinky. Thought about stopping at NBX Bikes or Casters to grab one, but I don't think either of them were open when I flew past. Nice workout though- 51 miles in about 2:40.. No flats, no motor vehicle altercations, no rain- even though the air became quite thick and heavy in Narragansett.

2008 Keith Berger Criterium Results

Brought to you by Millwork One Racing and WeeBIKE.com:

The rest of the story..

Those of you who witnessed the heartbreak of Wild Bill Yabroudy getting caught with only a few laps to go in the Cox Crit yesterday.. He's so over it.. To wit, today he won BOTH the Keith Berger 40+ AND the 30+ which followed. I was in the 30+ break with him and I can tell you that he always took the strongest and longest pulls out of all of us. I can't say much for the draft benefit he offers though.. I'm a fat lard ass and he's 95 percent lean... Another class act was Patrick Ruane. Not only did he lap the masters field last week in New London, not only did he win at Cox yesterday and get 2nd in the 40+ today.. He turns to us in the chase/break with three to go and offers to lead out the sprint for us, because he had already gotten some cash for 2nd in the 40+. How do you not respect such a gesture? True to his word, he took the front for the entire final lap.. Patrick's a good man..
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Keith Berger Criterium 30+

Good news today!
I went right from the gun. Never saw the field again. Took the first prime. Got in the early break of 9 with 22 left to go. Whittled down to 5 of us with 15 to go. I got a little tired and had to let the other 4 roll away from me, but I kept my head down for about 6 laps solo. I couldn't risk blowing up so I kept it steady. Two chasers caught up to me (Patrick Ruane and another) and we drilled it nice and easy to the end. I had the final sprint for 5th in the bag but I pulled out of my right pedal with about 100m to go. Clipped back in and buried myself, threw the bike and took 2nd in the sprint, 6th overall, out of 41 finishers. Patrick was 7th by a hair (after leading it out for the last lap)
Finally a decent result! I'm happy. This feels good for a change. Thanks for reading.

You never truly realize..

How losing a parent knocks you on your ass, how fucking heart breaking and isolating it feels, and how much you will miss those departed, until it happens to you. Nothing can prepare you for that hollow empty feeling of loss, the unpredictable and spontaneous fits of crying, the opposite of happiness that overcomes you in crushing waves..
Such loss also reveals things you could not see before.. Stuff you don't want to acknowledge, truths which you refuse to accept.
Ask yourself why you love to do "x" activity so much. The obvious answers eclipse the real answer..and when the real answer is no more, the obvious ones are suddenly not so compelling. Enough said?

The late irfan Altinbasak is on the far left.

New Millwork One Team Member: Murat Akyazi

Our team is now 'International' in the true sense of the word. Meet Murat Akyazi- 33 year old Master, training and racing in Bursa, Turkey. While I was there this spring, I rode with many people. But in terms of being impressed with riding ability, character, kindness and class, Murat outshined everyone else. The M1 Racing kit he's using replaces the tattered one he'd been using for years. My sister will be flying over in a couple of weeks, and she's taking a special care package over there for me. Some good tires, tubes, arm warmers, rain jacket, etc etc.. If we're going to support a rider we may as well do it properly, or not at all! Take note of the absolutely pristine-condition Peugeot frameset. Welcome aboard, Murat!

Ninigret Crit

Just returned from a kick-ass training race. No result to speak of but good power numbers attest to the fact that I did lots of work and got the most possible training benefit. In fact, I kind if sat up with 1/3 lap to go, having spent the previous two laps turning myself inside out chasing various breakaways. It was a good race. Our team had an impressive turn-out and everyone looked as solid as ever. Whoever let our Lynn borrow a helmet- many thanks! With eight guys up the road in the break, I didn't feel like sprinting for 9th place- not a good idea. Brendan H offered to lead it out for me but I passed, even though my chances of taking that field sprint were excellent. It's alright. Save it for the weekend I guess. It's gonna be a hell of a knife fight in Providence on Saturday! Yes Turkey lost 3-2 to Germany in the UEFA Euro 2008 Semi Finals. Kind of heartbreaking, but anyone who has followed the games will tell you that the Turkish team is the one which made these finals exciting. It was an excellent match, and Turks should be proud to have reached the final four out of 50 or so teams. So it goes. I went to harrass Gewilli today at his place of employment [I had carpenters working there today], but he was MIA at 9:00 am. Bankers hours at that place! - he has got it made, let me tell you. Hehe.

EURO 2008 Semi Final

Turkey vs Germany
Will be a tough game for Turkey!
Starts at 2:30. I'll be home watching.
Then to Ninigret afterwards..
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Wompatuck tonight?

Well I WAS going to make it up there tonight, but this heavy rain and thunder has changed my mind for me. That, and I still haven't been able to leave for my Boston jobsite.. If I leave now.. I'm there at 4:00, take some measurements for an hour or so, then it's a mad dash in rush hour traffic to get to exit 14 off Route 3.. Plus it will probably be pouring. I think I'll do Boston tomorrow instead, ride the wind trainer tonight. Ninigret tomorrow.

Hindsight

No this isn't about regret or shame or shoulda, coulda, woulda.. I just want to say that this weekend's racing was a pure adrenaline-seratonin-dopamine RUSH, and that I wouldn't want to spend a weekend any other way, given the choice. The shoulder to shoulder cornering at 30 mph, the spectacular crashes all around me which I avoided, the breathtaking leg breaking rotations of the breaks that I was part of.. All of it adds up to one Exceptional Weekend, regardless of the final results. Eight very high octane crits in the past 8 days (including Ninigret).. To make it through all of that without a crash or injury- something to be extremely thankful about.
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Whaling City Cyclone Crit

35+ race had about 30 starters, 19 finishers. Someone lapped the field solo. Lap card said 2 to go but it suddenly ENDED with one to go. No bell was rung. I'm really pissed off about this because I came across the line 12th expecting to move up over the course of the next 6 corners. It would have been an easy 2nd or 3rd place for me. What a waste. and what a GREAT crit course. DO NOT miss this event next year!

30+ race had ten starters. They announce that we're racing for nothing but primes. Not even a results list would be posted. I went as hard as I could from the gun and four laps later I was done. Felt like an idiot racing against 9 guys, legs were thrashed as it is, plus a 40 mile Pro-Am race was to follow.

The Pro-Am race was suddenly swollen with tons of "day of" people, including Jeremy Powers, Robbie King, both McCormacks, etc etc. I had great position for about 6 laps, but then the legs were thinking: 60 more laps, 6 corners each, that's 360 more accelerations. Go home before you pull something, hurt yourself, crash, cramp up, or develop an overuse injury. I basically knew I didn't have it in me to finish. So I watched the rest of the race, as Gavin Mannion and Robbie King lapped the field, Mark M and his chase group almost lapped the field (Mark was 5th finisher).

Six crits in two days is a lot of TSS for a 37 year old..

I will re-think my Attleboro/New Britain weekend, where my pre-reg is similar..

On deck for this next weekend: four crits. I think I'll be okay for them, but I may skip one of the Cox Crits to favor the legs at Keith Berger on Sunday. Thanks for reading.

Nutmeg Crit

35+: 30th of 110+ starters (81 finishers) Just couldn't get up there.
30+: DNF- quit with 5 to go after 20 minutes in 7 man break- unable to breath due toe cramps that were centered on my back/kidneys
Pro-3: Finished 56th of the 111 man field (90 +/- finishers) minor cramping in the final laps.
Tomorrow: Three crits at the Whaling City Cyclone. Please, no rain!

FUuuuuuuuuck Yeeeeeeaahhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Suck it, Croatia!!!!!!!!!
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Don't laugh..

I still remember the day I received this plastic bike. I think it's my 5th birthday or something, we live in Woodside, Queens, where my father is super of an apartment building, AND a full time cabinet maker for a shop that's across the street from Shea Stadium.. This bike was stolen from me in Kew Gardens (we had moved) in broad daylight, by a couple of ten year olds who decided they wanted it. Good times.

Nine-grit

Field was a little bit more powerful last night, with certain people present who I need not name. They have a tendency to make everyone around them go faster. Last night was no exception, because the speed was almost one click higher then last week. I missed the initial break, which seemed to break up into pieces on the last few laps. Notably, at least three of the six successful escapees were ArcenCiel racers. An impressive show of strength. Rick K and Gary A cranked their hearts out in those last 4-5 laps to shut these guys down, but fell short by only a handful of seconds. I did my part earlier in the race and let myself slip to the ass end of the field for the last 8 or so laps- kind of day dreaming, complete loss of concentration for a while.. I think.. Then I heard the bell lap and moved up swiftly, taking 3rd in the field sprint, 9th overall. Get it?

Harlem Skyscraper Classic: Crash!

Look at how Yours Truly threads the needle and avoids needless epidermal trauma.. This is a little beyond the corner, which was populated with a small body of water on the inside.. There was an an abundance of painted stripes which followed the exact line a bike racer would take through the corners! The heavy rain 15 minutes prior to our start meant that the course was wet/dry/wet/dry all over the place. Tires went from wet to dry ten time in the course of one lap.. Mind you, this is one of many crashes. Every lap saw at least one or two go down. In fact, we were shut down due to an ambulance and had to restart. We were given only 9 laps to go, so we raced for a whopping 12 miles all together. I played it safe, took no stupid chances, even though the legs felt super and this field was far from being stacked. Full results are HERE

Harlem Crit Race Report and Results

70 starters on a narrow bumpy soaking wet course.. 37 finishers.
Murat is a lucky 18th. How I made it through that carnage without laying it down- a miracle. Murat loses his nerve when people are kissing the asphalt all around him. That I let myself get swarmed with 1/2 lap to go sucks balls, but I have all my skin so I live to race another day.
In the Cat 3 race which followed- (see below) 79 starters and 73 finishers- the road dried out nicely. More later.

19 mile climb: Uludag, Bursa, Turkey

My brother Ali followed me up the climb in our little rental car, and tried to shoot some footage. Not sure how this looks- uploaded it through Blogger.

The chart below shows the climb.. Notice the three little drops in HR. I had to stop once to put on a vest, then stop again to pee and drink a Coke, then again to put on a jacket- it was cold.

Here's me at the top. Relieved. The street is lined with dormant hotels.

A little farther up the road we find the ski lodge and the ski lifts.

My brother Ali, driving our little Turkish built Renault Symbol. Crappy hotels which cater to skiers, beyond.

From the very peak we spy this spectacular structure, presumably a five star ski resort.. but looking more like a majestic castle.. or the place where The Shining was filmed..

Here's the top of the Old Mudanya Road with new team mate Murat Akyazi (left) and old team mate center named Irfan. He and I raced together as juniors in 1989. He's a little bit heavier now, but still loving the bike regardless.

At the KoroPark Mall in Bursa. We can afford to buy nothing at this place. Nothing but some food. This place has both a Dunkin Donuts and a Starbucks.

A view from the Airbus en route to Frankfurt

Curry Chicken. The flight to Boston wasn't so bad.. I swiped the eating utensils and the blanket as payback for charging me 90 Euros for an extra suitcase. It has mostly my dad's personal stuff in it Lufth-douche-bags!

The view from my uncle's summer house balcony in Burgaz. Maybe if I can get a training camp organized for next spring, we can use his place as a base. Should sleep 6 comfortably.

The view from about 1200 feet, near Gundogdu, looking down upon the coastal town of Kursunlu. The climb out of Kursunlu rises 400 feet in the first 1/2 mile.

Harlem or bust

I hear that Wells Ave is cancelled this weekend. That leaves me no choice but to throw my hat into the ring down in the Skyscraper Harlem Classic. 3-1/2 hour drive for a 40 minute crit? Yeah, why not? A stop at Copolla's Pizza in College Point will make it all worth it. Besides, my good friend and coach Todd Scheske has pre-registered in the Pro-Am Invitational, which features Fast Freddie and Tyler Hamilton (the only unattached guy on the list)! To be honest, watching the Pros race will be enough of a blast I think. I would probably drive down and back on Sunday. Who wants to go? This is serious. I have a Honda Odyssey that fits four ten speeds and four ten speed racers.

Nini-great!

Having not raced since Blue Hills or Wells back in early May, I was anxious to test the legs after the 500+ miles logged on Turkey's beautiful and challenging roads. Mindful that my body clock was still set to 1:00 am at the start of the crit, I was thinking that it would be quite hard for me to race. So for reasons I myself don't even understand, during the B race I got on the course and set the cruise control to 260 watts for 20 solid minutes- about 15 watts shy of FTP.. Let's call it a very solid warm-up. I was feeling good, but still doubting myself because of jetlag, stress, lack of sleep, etc..

By the way, many thanks to everyone who reached out to me today and offered their condolences for my father's passing. The sincerity that comes through from such great people makes it so much easier to re-connect whatever it is has snapped inside of me. Many thanks. It was surprising to me how many people knew about it, but then again I forget that I pretty much chronicled everything here, so word spreads quickly from my handful of readers.. Thanks for that too.

So the usual suspects manage to un-attach themselves from the field in no time. I'd name them but you probably already know the boys I'm talking about- they keep such a close eye on eachother that the successful break includes them all, while less gifted and less ambitious riders don't pay such close attention to what's happening. The winning break started out with what looked like 10-12 guys.

About halfway through the race, I find myself going pressing the pace at the front, trading pulls with Gary A, John L and others. Without realizing it at first, we suddenly have a six man break, way clear of the very large field. We rotated pretty solidly for the next few laps, and it was hard enough for me that with 14 to go, 10 to go and 7 to go, I was having some doubts about having the desire to suffer enough to make it to the end. The pace wasn't killer so I tightened my chin strap and muted out those voices of doubt. By the time we had about 5 to go, we had picked off about 4 or 5 of the original break, so up the road there were only five guys left [who eventually lapped the field]. Our chase group had of course swelled to about ten guys by this time. The field was 1/2 lap back on us, meaning that the winning break was 1/2 lap up on us. We worked hard enough that we were probably only about 1/2 mph off the winning pace.

Final couple of laps, our chase group had a few surges which really went no where, but helped to shed some bodies in the final laps. Two to go there was another hard acceleration, just after my pull, and I had to really dig to stay in contact. It was so close in fact, that I had to force Gary A to close a small gap on the back stretch. It wasn't intentional, and I apologized, but it cost him a match I think. Winding it up for the "field sprint" for sixth, I found myself fifth wheel coming out of the corner. Gary was leading it out hard with John L and his NBX team mate on his wheel. There was someone else thrown in there I can't remember who, but I remember having to touch the break to avoid a fall with about 300m to go. Once I saw my opening on the left it was full gas to the line. My gear selection was in doubt at first, then I realized it was perfect because it let me accelerate the entire way and pass all four ahead of me with about 1/2 wheel or more to spare. So put me down for 6th! It's not a win, it's not a podium, and I didn't even go for one prime, but it feels pretty damn good all the same. This proves that feeling tired or slow or under-rested is all relative [to the rest of the field]. We don't know what speed or result we're capable of unless we press ourselves to the limits.

Coasting after the sprint, I'm completely wasted and can barely catch my breath. Not even pedaling for 1/2 lap. My watch says 7:30 but in my mind I know that it's really 2:30 AM. The decision to race yesterday wasn't a no-brainer. I had to really commit- though I can't pinpoint the exact moment that I said "I'll do it".. The night before I went out with friends until 2:00 am. I awoke at 5:30 to be at the office at 6:30. Drove up to Boston for an 8:30 meeting which took three hours. From there I went to two jobsites in the Beacon Street area, on my feet for about five hours, trudging up to the ninth floor of one building and to the fourth floor in another.. Just wearing myself down more and more. Slightly hung over. Headed to Providence at 3:00.. drove in heavy traffic for 90 minutes.. stopped at the office to drop off a co-worker, went home to grab bike and stuff.. and then found myself pounding out a 20 minute FTP interval as a warm-up at Ninigret. What is WRONG with me? I look forward to seeing what a well-rested Murat is capable of. I know that sounds kind of cheesy, but I've worked pretty hard to get into form this year, and hopefully this is a sign of it beginning to bear fruit. Wish me luck. Thanks for reading.

No Service up here

7:50 pm: I feel like Forest gump must have felt when he suddenly decided to stop running. Now what?..
8:15 pm: Looks like dinner is being served. People belly ache about airline food. I like it. Each meal is a challenge: to try and finish everything without wasting any of it- hard to do. There's always something on the tray which sucks.. Why don't they ever serve soup on airplanes? Just curious. More than six hours until we land. For me, it will be the same as 2:30 am. By the time I drive home and get to bed it will be 4:30 my time.. (9:30 Eastern) I'm expected at work tomorrow. Chicken Curry has arrived.
8:44 pm: there's so much to look forward to.. After these six hours are through that is.. After making my inflight meal disappear I felt a wave of happiness poured down on my head- only for a few seconds.. The feeling lingers.. But it might be from the wine I'm sipping. Took a picture of my Lufthansa food for you (I'll add it here later) This Airbus is not full so people have picked their own seats. The guy who was originally next to me has relocated. I have the window and aisle seat to myself. Alone. Soon, my sister will join my wife, son, mother and brother in Turkey. I will truly be by myself in terms of immediate family all being 8000 miles away.. And with Father gone it's going to feel extra weird. I'm a person who loves to be independent, to answer to no one, a solitary Lone Ranger/Assassin type.. But this next few weeks might be tough. Then again, it might be an opportunity to really focus on work and on racing with a minimum of distraction. I'd better make the very best of it.
11:26 pm: I'm going into and out of light sleep while my mp3 player blasts my brains out. Current selection: Green Day's Jesus of Suburbia. Just before that Papa Roach. Foo Fighters' Best of You follows. Three hours left. More wine? More sleep? This journey takes forever when you're by yourself.
12:28 am: just returned from a walk to the back of the plane to do some stretching and a visit to the lav. I did 20 miles of climbing Saturday, in the rain. It didn't really hit me until yesterday, but it feels like I've really hurt my lower back- like there's a knife in there being twisted against bone. Of course it didn't help that I did another tough climbing ride Sunday with the locals. Smaller group this time, but a more interesting route. We climbed up to Gundogdu, plunged down into Kursunlu and followed the coast to Guzelyali/Burgaz. Past my uncle's summer house and onto the four mile climb up Old Mudanya Road. Then a nice flat ride into the city and home. My friends Zafer and Murat were both Kings of the long climbs- I summited third on both of them, solo. But on the rollers on the coast, they weren't as fast as me. The fatigue from the previous day's mountain climb and the lower back pain really made it impossible to match pace with these guys on the big hills. I don't mind. On the run-in to the city of Bursa I put the hammer down and had it wound up to 35 mph on the flats. Only one could follow me and pull through: Murat. So he's good on the climbs and on the flats.. He's the latest addition to Millwork One Racing. I gave him a kit and our little team has just become international! Two Murats are better than one. One caveat (which I happen to love) is that Murat is a spitting image of Steve Buscemi. Good man.. I look forward to mailing him some more team schwag when I get home.
2:08 am: about 1/2 hour until we land at Logan. I am craving sushi enough that I may stop at Haruki on the way home, if it isn't too late. Will I be too tired to race at Ninigret on Wednesday? What am I pre-registered for this weekend? I don't even remember. The plane is finally beginning to descend from 40,000 feet. The coloe scheme of this airline seems to remind me of something.. Like the gold and silver uniforms of a certain New England racing team.. Now to decide whether these Lufthansa blankets are nice enough that I want to swipe one.. Might come in handy for using as a race day kilt.
All the above was during yesterday's flight to Boston. I'm now back at work.. And so tired.
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15-1/2 hours..

Until my flight to Frankfurt.
The past two weeks seem like a bad dream. I still can't believe my Father is gone. I haven't had any emotional breakdowns since the funeral- the day that I more or less cried all day. I leave for home tomorrow by myself while dear wife and son stay behind for five extra weeks. I'm pre-registered for 16 criteriums in four weekends, so I have my work cut out for me.. Not to mention all the unsolvable knots I need to untangle when I return to work- two weeks away from a construction position is an eternity.
It's gonna be an interesting summer.. But.. I feel lost, as though my North Star has been extinguished.
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Be Home Soon

It's a shame that I was too naïve to realize until now that "Most people are Dicks", applies no matter what country you're in. Our car is extra filthy, in spite of the rains which have fallen recently. You can buy a cup of boiled corn-off-the-cob at the mall for 6 YTL.. What does that cost them? Ten cents? Armani t-shirts for $219.. Lacoste polo shirts for $239.. Crappy Chinese made Nine West stuff for about 10x what we pay in the US.. A walk through Turkey's malls is an exercise in gratitude for the cheap prices we pay for premium stuff at our outlet centers, TJ Maxx and Marshalls.. My wife's DKNY t-shirt which she paid $15 for: found at the mall here for 120 YTL (about 100$) who can afford this stuff? And even so, who is retarded enough to pay this much? Show me who and I will show you an insecure and hollow shell of a person who deserves to be slapped hard.
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Long climb up Uludag

Distance to top: 20 miles
Vertical Rise: 5400 feet
Duration to top: 2:09
Rained almost the whole way up!
Only a 5 percent average grade, but after 10 miles of climbing, 5 percent starts to feel like 10.. I recorded the elevation profile with the Polar. Brother followed me up in the car. We have pictures which I'll post next week.
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Steep Climbing

Went out at 8 am this morning.. No real plan except to go for 3-4 hours and include some 30 second intervals at CP6 with 30 sec spin recoveries.. The wind took me in the direction of Mudanya, which makes no sense because the wind was blowing hard off the water.. Went up the 3 mile climb of "Old Mudanya Road", with views that never fail to make my jaw drop. The descent into Mudanya sucks balls- the road is rough as hell- making it impossible to gain any speed. Need full suspension for that. Where the old road meets the main highway, we go straight and head into Guzelyali/Burgaz.. Which takes me past my Uncle Orhan's house as the road winds it's way along the coast towards the town of Kursunlu. As luck would have it, my uncle's wife was out on the front porch. She's 70 and didn't recognize me until I took my Rudys off and said "It's me, Murat". They heard the news of my father's passing from my aunt in Istanbul.. Anyway.. Uncle Orhan and his wife had arrived a couple of days ago from Germany. They worked their entire lives in the upholstery division of the Opel factory in the Frankfurt/Koln area. He's the oldest of seven siblings- my dad being the middle child. He's 73 and very healthy. He's also self published two books of poetry. She's 70 and had four daughters with my uncle- Canan, Seyda, Lelya and Semra. The youngest of these cousins being 39 years old. All are in Germany. All have divorced at least once. Uncle had gone out to buy supplies- the summer house was ina state of being unpacked from the winter.. A water view from the balcony that makes me quite jealous.. They bought that condo 38 years ago- I love that place. The water used to lap the base of the building, but that was before thwe entire beach was infilled and cement poured to create a giant ferryboat landing.. The view is still excellent though. After a hot cup of Nescafe and some small talk about my dad and uncle's sibling rivalry, I excused myself and continued along the coastal road towards Kursunlu. Not only steep and winding, rising 150 feet then plunging back down to sea level every so often.. But with a view to die for. Once into the coastal town of Kursunlu, I asked how to get to the village of Gundogdu, which is where I climbed from the other direction last week. A sharp right hander and I'm on a brick paved road rising before me like a wall.. Unlike the four mile climb we did that day, this time the pitch was a lot steeper, reaching the same peak in only three miles, and starting from sea level. The first 1/2 mile was the hardest- it rose 400 feet. The next 1/2 mile was less brutal, but the end of the first mile marked about 600 feet. Three mile point at the top was 1200 feet total rise, but this included a few short dips downward which had to be re-ascended. Toughest big climb around! I can't say enough about the view at the top. You just have to see it to believe it. Makes all the pain worth it. After the four mile descent and after I got on the flats leading into the city, I did my 30 second CP6 intervals.. Most of them anyway. Thanks for reading.

Pay 10 times more in Turkey

We just saw a hard side Samsonite suitcase in a classy mall store- same as we bought at TJ Maxx for $80..
Price in Turkey: 795 YTL (about $700)
I told the sales girl and she rambled on about how this one was the lightest in the world blah blah.. Whoever buys that thing for 795 YTL should be skinned alove for their idiocy.
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Training Day

Going to skip forward a few days and just tell you about my club ride this morning with 30 other Bursa cyclists. Only about 7 or 8 road bikes and the rest were all mountain bikes. We took a main highway- six lanes wide- broad shoulder- completely open to the wind- you can see for miles and miles in all directions- long 2-3 mile big ring climbs that rise gently enough, but which grind you to dust and have you wanting so badlly to drop it into the little ring and ride like a weenie. This road hurts. We were on this highway for quite a while, strung out at times in groups of 2 and 3 and 4.. Per my resolution of a few days earlier, I had my game face on and pounded everyone into submission on every climb, stringing them out single file until 300m before the top, and then accelerating over the peak, solo. The fire in the belly was burning brightly today.. This motley group of bikers was populated with three strong juniors, elite mountain bike racers, road masters who used to race, road masters who still race, a guy who can ride a wheelie for miles, people I raced with as a junior back in 1989, a couple of 50 somethings and even a 60 something. My LOOK 486 attracted lots of attention, as did my rear hub and Powertap.. A couple of the guys looked really - how should I say - poor. Riding really tattered and poor fitting clothing and riding hand me down federation bikes with 7 speeds and down tube shifters. One of these guys was strong as a bull..
So we rode to the end of the highway and after regrouping we went onto a country road for about 5 miles- into a little village where we raided a tea garden and took over the place. Someone bought a huge warm loaf of country bread and two kilos of soft country feta cheese. Everyone ordered hot Turkish tea. Bikes sprawled out everywhere. Good food, good company, good weather.. It all adds up to a very memorable and enjoyable ride. On the way back I hit a pothole large enough to swallow a small child. I swear I hit it so hard that I saw the fork flex enough for the tire to hit the frame.. Both bottles went flying. One of the cages is kaput. Changed the flat in 5-6 minutes and we headed back out of the country village and back onto the highway. I stopped to pee and everyone got a 2 minute gap on me. They had said they would take it easy and wait for me, but judging from the fragments of the group which I began to catch up to, they were working hard to make it harder for me. A few grabbed my wheel along the way, so by the time I caught onto the tail of the roadies who were pressing the pace, I had a tail of 4-5 guys with me. Feeling good, I rode up to the front and uncorked a hot 2 minutes to the top of the hill. Only three others could follow, but none could pull through. We were doing 34 mph on the flats between the hills. Up the final climb, I pulled for the first half way up, let the others pull through, and then hit it hard again over the top. Only one could follow, but I rode him off my wheel in the last 100m of the climb. I'm not beating my chest over being faster on the road than a bunch of mountain bikers. I just had a good time that's all. This ride was great for my morale. Overall we did 60 miles in about 3:10, but this doesn't include about 20 minutes between flatting and peeing. Thanks for reading.

Almost turned to scrambled eggs when my front tire blew!
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Friday Funerals are the Best..

..Is what people keep telling me.. And that my Father is very lucky and very loved by the Big Guy for this reason. We've been to City Hall, we've ordered the food and drink for 100 people.. We went to the cemetary and picked a spot.. We (ten of us) carried him down the stairs from the third floor in a casket.. We took him to the mosque where he was bathed one final time- and yes of course I insisted on being present and helping out.. Now he's back in the casket, staged in front of the mosque (which is not a casket in a true sense- it's used only for transport) as brother and I wait for Friday prayers to end. When they do, people will flood out and surround the casket and pray some more. After that it's a short trip to the cemetary, where everyone who wasn't here at the mosque (the women of the house) will be waiting. I'm told that the way it works is that my brother and I get into the grave and help lower Father into it. He's wrapped in three seamless pieces of white cloth-that's it, there's no casket. Strangers are walking up and praying, squeezing our hands. My eyes are bloodshot and raw. I probably look like I will be next to go.. While my younger brother Ali is as poker faced and calm as a Hindu Cow... Wife has been falling apart a lot. She and my Dad had a special father-daughter bond.
It's bright, sunny and 80+ degrees, just like every day is here in Mudanya, just like California. I'm looking forward to my next bike ride, my next race, and every one which follows.. Because I have this far fetched hope.. That Father will finally and easily see how hard I try.. How seriously hard I work to be the best I can be.. He'll excitedly stand with a clenched fist as I wind up a finishing sprint and attack and open up an unclosable gap..
I'm delirious.. Dreaming.. I miss him so much..
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Thank you..

.To everyone who is reaching out to me on the blog comments as well as privately. I've given up on answering everyone individually, for now. I'm blown away and eternally grateful.
We're about to leave to go and choose a site for Father at the Mudanya cemetary. He loved it here by the ocean.
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After

It's 2am. We planted a few seeds and news spread like wildfire. Before you know it, phones are ringing like crazy, the doorbell is chiming non stop, and people are flooding the house to pay their respects. I'm tired- laying down in the same room as Father's body. He's covered head to toe. His two big toes are tied together and a strip of cloth is tied around his head and chin to keep his mouth closed. The balcony door is wide open and the room is chilled. We have pepsi bottles in the freezer which will soon be ready for use as ice packs to keep Father cool long enough to carry him to a mosque in the morning for cleansing and preparation for burial. Per islamic requirements, he must be in the ground before sundown the following day. Tomorrow after morning prayers, a short invitation to his funeral will be read via speakerphone from the minaret. (This is being repeated at another mosque in Bursa also) After Friday prayers at the local mpsque in Mudanya, those who want to can then join in a quick stand up prayer outside the mosque, around the coffin. From there we proceed to the cemetary where his site has already been prepared and we lay him to rest. Per tradition, everyone in attendance is encouraged to throw a few shovels of soil into the grave, until it's filled completely. And then begins a period of mourning and group prayers at the house.. Etc etc. I'm going to try to take a nap..

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Lost Him

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Whose Nightmare is this?

I keep thinking about what a nightmare this situation has become for me and the family.. Then I come to my senses when I consider that Father is the one who is really living in a nightmare right now, and then I want to punch myself and jump off the nearest bridge for being such a pussy.
If I knew that I would live for another 40 years, I'd happily split them 50-50 with my father. We'd go into the dark together, 20 years from now.

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A new day

It's windy enough this morning that there are little whitecaps all over the water, which we have a clear of, from father's apartment balcony.
He's hanging in there. I told him repeatedly that my brother will be here today. His breathing is getting labored. He hasn't taken any food or drink in the last 40 hours because every drop of food causes a gag reflex and a fit of coughing on phlegm that has nested in his throat. He used to be able to clear it and spit but not anymore. The IV doesn't work either- it goes for ten minutes and then backs up and blood is everywhere. His veins are all shot from the chemo treatments.
We're just "getting ready" for the inevitable at this point. I'm emotionally drained. Last night I sat with him and told him I love him very much, that I always have.. That he's my champion and hero and not to be afraid..
Damn.
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45 minute spin

That's all. Barely 100 watts. Rode past my uncle's waterfront summer condo in Burgaz, which he has owned forever. Nobody home, or at least I assume so- no Opel parked out front with German plates. Even if he was home, I'm not sure if I would have stopped. And if I had, I'm not sure if I would have been very nice to him. He's the oldest of 7 siblings, and he hates my father for a variety of reasons.. Mainly because my father insulted him while in a drunken stupor.. Ironic thing is: When my two teenage uncles used to sneak around getting drunk, my 12 year old father was a witness. Determined to keep him quiet about it, they would pass him drinks too, in return for his silence. And so begins the story of my father's alcoholism. Fast forward 50 years and we find my father on his death bed, and his two older brothers "G-d knows where", and completely oblivious. They can both suck my balls.
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Hondas in disguise

No Accords in Turkey- it's called Legend here. The economical Honda Fit is called the Jazz for whatever reason. Also, I'm seeing a Land Rover Freelander everywhere I turn. I can barely afford to lease one back home.. How do these poor poor Turks afford them here? There's a 100 percent tax on imports.. And limited financing options. You think you're the shit because you leased an LR2 with no money down and can afford to fill up for $4 a gallon? Take a pill. Get over yourself. The vehicle and the fuel is more than double the cost here, while the Median income is only about $1400 a monthn probably a lot less.
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Day 4: climber's heaven

Some corrections.. The main highway which climbs out of Mudanya rises 750 feet in 2-1/2 miles.. The old winding road (that is, the return to Mudanya which I use to get home afterwards) rises to 900 feet (but begins at 200 feet elev) in exactly three miles. I did both climbs again today for the third consecutive day.. And then some.. Today I discovered a road which climbs up out of the valley to a point opposite the city of Bursa to a little "koy" (village) called "Gundogdu".. Which literally means "Rising Sun" or something close.. At the top of this climb, at the fountain of the village mosque, my altimeter read 1200 feet. The view of the city of Bursa down in the valley took my breath away. To see the entirety of a city populated by 2 million.. as though it was painted there by a giant paint brush- something to behold.. My companion and guide on this scenic five mile climb was a 40 year old mountain biker/road race dabbler who had me making 'woman noises' all the way to the top. In fact, Zafer is a bike commuter who climbs this hill every day after work, then doubles back down to get home. I can't say I blame him. The traffic was light, the breeze cool, and the views awesome. He had a backpack and climbed smoother and faster than me in spite of the added weight. Opened a nice gap on me too I don't mind admitting.. Though I did keep him closely in sight the whole way. But.. He does know the road like the back of his hand. My legs are quite sore and achy from all the climbing I've done after taking 6 days off the bike and then traveling 8000 miles. I'll try to return the favor and make him suffer on Sunday's group ride after I've taken some recovery time. Great guy, Zafer. A rare breed indeed, especially in Turkey. I'll take some pictures on Sunday's ride, which I'm told usually goes 120 km. Now that I think of it, today's total climbing was 3000 feet, according to the Polar. Two consecutive days prior, I know I did about 4000 total feet of climbing. So 7000 feet in three days. That's a lot of vertical rise for an over weight guy who climbs poorly.. Last three days I have about 9 hours of ride time and approx 160 miles.. Not too shabby. Tomorrow I take a light one hour spin with no big ring and no hills. My avg HR today was 142. Could not go hard enough due to soreness, to get it higher.. Max HR was only a weak 174.
Father seems to have taken a step backwards today.. All the forward momentum of yesterday erased. The initial shock of when I first saw his emaciation has passed.. But I can't help but feel a certain disconnect from my emotions. It's like a circuit breaker has tripped- it did it's job of protecting me from overload and complete failure. Tears no longer well up when I look down at his broken body. Guilt about my easy-going nature, my 3 hour bike rides.. Guilt rears it's head and pokes me in the ribs occasionally. Must be a form of adaptation. In order for me to be strong enough to feed him by spoon and to keep him clean and to help him clear phlegm and wipe his mouth, certain systems require disabling.
Thursday my brother arrives and maybe then I'll hit the reset button.. Though I must admit that it's easier this way.. And that I am very afraid.
I'm not a religious person.. In spite of my family's best efforts to indoctrinate me.. I'm agnostic. Believe it when I see it. There's maybe probably a G-d.. If so, he's not a participant or an influence on our lives.. For this reason, prayer is futile. Buy powerball tickets man, because that has a greater chance of enhancing your life. G-d can't help you.. And if he did, it would be pretty unfair to all of those who are sick and dying or killed senselessly every second of every day.. Who helped them? Were they overlooked for not praying? Or for not praying to the correct G-d? To me' G-d's more like an apathetic observer.. Powerless or at least unable to show it. I am infuriated by the words "Thank God!" Or "It's G-d's will". For fuck's sake stop giving credit to G-d for your hard work AND THEN giving him praise for tragic events! Stop it. If you triumph, give yourself the credit. If you have cancer, it wasn't "G-d's fucking will" either. Sorry if I offend. I do not mean to indoctrinate and I do not disrespect those with faith- my father is deeply religious. He was anyway- but maybe that's changed..
I don't believe in hell.. Which brings me to the whole point of this rant: I find the concept of Heaven very hard to believe as well.. But in these last few days, for the sake of my father, I'm at least hoping for it with all my heart. Thanks for reading.
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Day three

I think I'm losing weight in sympathy for my dad. Eating less.. Riding lots. And climbing galore. Can't swing a dead cat around here without hitting a ball-busting climb.. Later today I'll go out of Mudanya on the main highway with my Polar and get the altitude profile for later. I'm guessing that it climbs about 600 feet in 2-1/2 miles. The other day I climbed it without stressing myself too much, but it turns out that I pushed hard enough that my bar tape unraveled on the tops.. Tonight I'll be meeting up with one of the local Masters for a ride together. His name's Zafer. We tried to rendezvous last night (my 2nd ride of the day) but I took some wrong turns and it didn't work out. In the morning I went out by bike to meet my wife at her mom's house. Since I needed to have street clothes with me, I took the "rescue pack"- my orange adidas back pack that looks a lot like Diego's.. Had to climb the hill out of Mudanya with about 15 extra pounds.. Plus I added my red blinky to the bike to be safe. We rented a car yesterday for two weeks- a brand new Renault Symbol. It had 12 km on it and the interior still wrapped in plastic. For a sub-compact it sure had no trouble swallowing my bike in the trunk (with both wheels off). Cost for 15 days: 1050 dollars. Gas costs 9 dollars a gallon so it will be about 120 dollars to fill up the 13 gallon tank. Crazy. You can rent a car for 20 dollars a day in the states. Here it's triple to rent a car and more than double for gas.. Americans complain about gas prices.. Pfffft! I hope the price goes up to 10 dollars. Can't afford it? Ride a bike! Eat your house! You know the one where you financed BOTH the down payment and the other 95 percent too?! Sorry I'm way off topic here. Here's my upturned middle finger to Washington Mutual Bank- the one which, for the third consecutive year, embarrassed me in Turkey with credit card transaction failures.. In spite of my calling in advance and telling them I'll be in Turkey. What a joke.
Father seemed to improve marginally yesterday.. But he looks a little more tired this morning. Pulse is down to 96 today from 120.. I don't know if it's a good sign. He can't speak. He can't stand or walk without two people assisting him.. He's too weak to eat or bathe or do anything really. We need a full time nurse because Im here for only so long and his wife is exhausted both mentally and physically. There is no such thing as a "hospice" in Turkey, or so I'm told. Got cancer? You're on your own.
Yesterday while out on the roads I suddenly became very aware of a few observations:
1. Everyone.. smokes.. cigarettes.
2. Men walking hunched over, hands often behind their backs, with big beer bellies and narrow downward sloping shoulders outnumber all other 'types' on the street. Occasionally you'll spy one who's in between cigarattes, but it's rare.
3. Young misguided teenage boys with absolutely AWFUL looking 'mohawk-ish" haircuts.. Are everywhere and should be beaten to in inch of their life or until they agree to shave that travesty of hair clean off their heads. 4. Young girls with their heads covered with scarves.. Not only do they appear freakishly top heavy and androgenous.. They also seem to outnumber the other girls by a factor of 3:2. Do I have to go to the south coast in order to see some eye candy??
5. The coolest cars are in Turkey: Seat, Renault, Citroen, Peugeot, Fiat, Skoda, Alfa Romeo.. These companies do not sell in the US.. But if they did, their sporty looking compact models would be very popular.. The compact class is very limited in the US, but not for long I think.
6. Turkish people love to gawk, laugh, point and sometimes shout at handsome and muscular bike racers who are wearing great looking team uniforms and going very fast.
:)
Thanks for reading.
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Mudanya-Bursa

Are separated by 30 km.. I assembled the bike today determined to get back on track. Did not ride this past Mon-Tues-Thurs-Fri-Sat so today was a shock to the system. Headed out in the afternoon heat.. In the direction of Bursa.. Mudanya is the equivalent of Newport.. It's a seaside town about 1/2 hour drive from Bursa/Providence.. There's only two ways out, both from the same road. One requires you to climb a 3 mile hill on a windswept state highway with terribly heavy chip/seal asphalt. The other road is the "old" Mudanya road- used for ages before the highway was built. It climbs for about 4 miles to a higher elevation, switching back and forth through olive orchards until you reach a point where the views are so breath taking that you may as well be looking from the seat of an airplane.. Today I wanted to take the old road but I went past it by accident- the mouth of the road which leads to the climb was so over-developed with housing that I didnt recognize it. Used to be nothing but olive trees.. So instead I rode the steeper and more direct highway to get out of Mudanya- didn't go hard up the climb, but it still hurt. The descent was a hair raising 45-50 mph. Overall I rode 50 miles in about 2:55. My tan lines after today will make everyone back home look like feta cheese. Father is still fighting a fever. Doesn't seem fully self aware.. He's scared and confused.. Seeing things around him which we cannot see. Today we lifted him into his chair next to the bed. He wanted to sit.. It was a good opportunity for him to eat some soup and drink fluids.. There were other benefits too of which I'll spare you the details.. This could be the beginning of a long and drawn out ending. I check his pulse regularly- it's a solid 110 to 120 bpm. Beating strongly. I don't think he was prepared for this. He doesn't seem to know what hit him. Even when he was well and into treatment, we never spoke of his inevitable death. We always danced around the topic using words of encouragement.. Now that he's hanging by a thread, I can't help but think that he's highly confused and very angry that we kind of lied to him in the process of propagating our own denial. We were lying to ourselves, too.. I hope he doesn't hate me for duping him into believing he'll recover. Not just me, but everyone who cares about him is complicit. What a silly thing to feel guilt about, yet here I am. Thanks for reading.
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Apologies..

I'm delivering lots of bad news and I feel badly for being such a Buzz Killington..
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Sunday morning

Im wearing the same clothing as yesterday- slept in them. Suitcase and bike are still unpacked. Brought a nurse in who helped put an IV on my father's wrist. We're giving him some serum with sugar and b-c vitamins. We've more or less given up on using modern plumbing.. Will he come around? Stand on his own ever again? Eat? This is hard.. But it could be a lot harder.. If father were awake, we might see and hear and know how he really feels. His unintelligible whispering and blank face expression makes it easy for us.. It hides his pain and his fear- the two things I can't bear to witness.. I fell apart completely last night when I first saw him. My next meltdown will be when I see him cry or wince in pain.
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Nothing left to do

We've been at my father's house for all of 90 minutes. It's 8:50 pm Saturday May 24th. Moments ago I sent my wife to go stay at her mom's with my son. None of us have slept in the past 24 hours, unless numerous 5 minute episodes of passing out in the airplane count..
I do not recognize my father's appearance.. And in his incoherence I have doubts about whether he recognizes me. The shock and awe of seeing his wife carry him to the bathroom heimlich style.. Paled in comparison to the moment they emerged from the bathroom.. And father's legs gave out... The same legs that raced bikes 45 years ago.. And I lifted his weak and crumpled body from the floor the way that a father carries his slumbering 5 year old child and I carried him to his bed, for a moment astonished at my burst of strength.. until I realized how much he's wasted away.
This has been the most difficult hour of my life.
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Eagle has landed

Istanbul! not Constantinople!
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Greetings from Frankfurt

Three hour layover until our flight to Istanbul starts boarding. Gotta love Lufthansa!! They took the bike case without asking for an extra dime.. Of course it might be because we are entitled to 6 suitcases and only had 4.. The bike case was the lightest piece too.. Maybe they'll nail me on the return leg.. We're docked at a table and chairs in front of a panoramic view of the airfield. It's pretty awesome. The Airbus ride here was six hours, and that plane was huge.. You take a flight of stairs down to the toilets. Private Lcds in front of every seat.. You choose your own movie, cartoon or sitcom. I was seated next to a 350 pound mouth-breather who cursed at my son in German when he accidentally kicked the guy.. I didn't take offense. Germans usually do not seem to be crazy about kids (Sorry Ralf- they're generally just plain cold towards their own kids and especially towards the kids of others) Me, I don't think twice about talking with or winking/smiling at little kids. I'd pick them up and kiss them if I knew I wouldn't be assaulted by their parents.

Women's Lib Arrived on Bicycles

This looks like a great read:

Women were once considered too frail to ride bicycles.

 

Story Highlights

Victorian era women were expected to be frail, wear 7 pounds of underwear
Bifurcated garments called bloomers were scandalous
Escorts needed to protect women from becoming morally debased by their bikes
1900 U.S. Census Report said bicycles caused "revolution in social conditions"

 

By Christopher Connolly

(Mental Floss) -- Susan B. Anthony once said, "Let me tell you what I think of bicycling. I think it has done more to emancipate women than anything else in the world." A woman on a bicycle, the equal rights champion observed, presents "the picture of free and untrammeled womanhood."

Complete article

"What Have I Done?"

Now that I look at this list of races which I have just pre-registered for, I'm wondering if I should maybe skip a race here and there in favor of fresher legs elsewhere. I guess I'll exercise those options when the time comes- it's only money.. What worries me the most if the weather. Pre-registering seems to always guarantee rain! Nutmeg sucked last year for this very reason. The above check-out totaled just a little over $400. Ouch! In case anyone wonders, my entry fees are not paid by the Millwork One team budget. I cover them myself and take them as a tax write-off since our little WeeBIKE company is a co-title sponsor of the team.
Seventeen races in the span of four weekends (July 6th being Masters Nationals Criterium in Kentucky- I'm going!)
So much can go wrong between now and the New Britain Criterium on July 13th.. If I complete all of these races with no crashes, no dnfs and no flat tires, it will be a triumph indeed. I think that this approach proves beyond all doubt that I love to race.. I just love being a part of this. That's what it's all about, eh? As impressed as you are with my bad-ass doing three crits a day, I swear I did not do this to impress you or to prove anything.. All of these races have been on my radar since the end of last season. Now.. Let's see if all of this excessive training and "TSS" and "FTP" amounts to anything. I'm faster and stronger today than I was at my peak last year.. assuming that the numbers don't lie. I trust the numbers and they give me confidence which I would not otherwise have. Wish me luck.