A Hickey Racing PSA

~Or~

"Don’t learn this stuff the hard way – I did it for you."

1) Do not make your gmail password painfully simple. When your account is hijacked, so is your life.

2) Under no circumstances should you plan a vacation that does not involve bike racing. This is wrong, and will result in a swine flu outbreak at your travel destination (Sorry Mexico, my bad)

3) Drunks who appreciate their DD are great – but when they buy you a ride on the mechanical bull, remember – this is a drunk person idea.

4) If the afore-mentioned bull is absolutely unavoidable, keep a bag of ice handy, for when you pull your groin.


5) Marathons: probably easier when you a) have trained, b) did not pull your groin three days before, c) do it on the same day as everyone else, and get to use the aid stations.

(But we are le tired!)

6) When stumbling across dead bodies in the woods, it is best to not *actually* stumble across them. Footprints = police paperwork.

Well, that's out of the way! I know this blog is supposed to be about bike racing, so here’s a math problem for you:

If I:

- show up to 4 of the last 5 Wednesday Worlds,
- make it past Owl Canyon 3 times,
- sit on the tail 5 miles per week at 28mph,
- and drink 8 fl. Oz of Horizon Organic Strawberry milk after each ride…

How long will it be before I’m fast enough to follow Rahsaan Bahati around at Super Week and figure out how it’s done???

CU race update - the bland version

Well, true to our word Lila and I have been not training. We have an meticulously designed training routine that involves a lot of hanging out, chilling, couch-sitting, gymming, and a minimal amount of bike riding.

Today CU put on a race at the Qwest research park. Lila had a very solid 8th place (2nd in the field sprint) in one of the strongest fields she's ever raced in and I managed a 4th place in the cat 2/3 race. Overall a good day.

But it's Stephanie's birthday so we're off to engage in some beer drinking and shenanigans. We've got some pictures, that may or may not suck and even now Lila is conjuring up a retelling of this very story that will be neither bland nor boring. Check back soon.

Back In The Blogging Saddle!

A thousand pardons: between minor injuries, assorted illnesses, travel and future-travel-planning, we have been afk.

And now, a filler post!

You know how everyone has some little weird physical quirk that sets them apart and makes 'em special?

For example, I have wings:

(I was in high school before anyone told me this was abnormal and that I was a freak of nature.)

Teenagers can be so cruel sometimes.









Will's superpower is looking like a younger, paler, Wolverine->

(In actuality, these are "before" pics - expect to see some "afters" around June - if all goes well, we will be tanned and toned).

To answer your next question, the wall is covered with Will's bicycle storage system. I suspect it is equally useful for the dorm-room-livin' college student and the married weekend warrior whose wife needs the garage for potting soil.

And when you move out, just fill the holes with toothpaste.
Ty Pennington - and your wife - will be unimpressed, but your RA/landlord won't know the difference.

(Will hung a full-sized kayak from the ceiling of his dormroom for at least two years, and still got his deposit back. True story.)

In other news, I'm pondering inserts. In past, I've always used Superfeet and been very pleased, but when I stopped by Full Cycle today, I came across a heat-molded brand called Sole. Honestly, they looked pretty tricked-out, so the battle begins:

Sole?

Or Superfeet?

It’s Not All Fun & Games, You Know!

…Unless you’ve decided to “do it all with less fitness than our competitors,” (as Brother Will put it) at which point, it pretty much IS all fun and games.

So you’re allowed to have brownies AND birthday cake, complete with delicious ButterCream frosting:


(I think I have the diabetes now, incidentally).


And you can dance til the wee hours of the morning,
with absolutely no concern for whether or not your legs are
recovering from the day's workout:



(Please keep in mind that the locomotion is the least harmful dance available, beating out such favorites as the foxtrot, waltz and moonwalking when it comes to next-day muscle pain and overall recovery time required.)

Aerodynamics no longer need be a factor when making personal-grooming decisions:

(Look! It's Prodigal Brother Phil!)

AND we can stay up really, really late! But there's still no reason not to rep the heck out of your (old) team while you're at it...

(Brad Cole is wearing ciclismoracing's 2009 line of casualwear, while Will Hickey reps an instant classic - their 2008 Legacy T-shirt with white piping detail on neck and arms. Regina Hopkins is just fuckin' style-y, in something red and something white, with crazy funky hair)

So thanks to everyone who came, and made it a most excellent birthday...

But to those of you who didn’t come, it’s only fair to let you know you’ve been moved to the “Terrible, No-Good, Very-Bad Friends” list…

…Unless you’re just not on the Facebook, in which case...what the heck are you doing in the blogosphere anyway?

Go WEST, Young Man

Okay, I admit it - Horace Greeley probably wasn't recommending more time in the mountains for aspiring cyclists, but you know what? If we desecrated his grave, reanimated his corpse, strapped it on a bicycle, and turned it loose on the Front Range...well, I don't think he would gravitate towards his namesake.

Ironic, no?

I suppose the real irony (or at least oddity) is a sprinter calling for more climbing, but I have my reasons.

As it turns out, the plains are pretty boring. I would know: not only have I driven through, to and around Kansas on numerous occasions, I also spent the winter of 2006 training exclusively on the flats north and east of Fort Collins - the only roads not under two feet of snow at the time.

Since I've started riding again, I've been hitting the mountains, and my state of mind is...different:

Winter, 2006: "Aaand it's the Rawhide Power Plant, YET AGAIN. Snow sure is blowing... Wait a tic, what's that up in the road ahead? Is that...is that..yep, it's a yeti! Huh. Would anyone care if I got eaten by a yeti? Would I care? Probably warmer in there than it is out here...hey, yeti! Wait up! ...Oh. You're a cow."

Lately, things have been more like this:

Friday, on the way back through Eden Valley: "Sunshine, on my shoulders, makes me happy...aaand I'm singing John Denver. Oh fiddlesticks, who cares? This weather/ride is sweet!"

Saturday was slightly rougher - thanks to Friday being my first long day in more than a year. I'll admit that my thoughts started more like... "Fuck. FUCK. Oooh, Sweet Baby Jesus, my sit bones. I know liposuction is cheating, but what if I just asked them to move some body fat down to my ass? That seems legit...hey! I made it to the Wall! Sweeeet!"

Sunday, Will & I hit some dirt roads east of town with Don Spence & Rich Taranow. Captain's log as follows: "Recovery ride has turned to dirt and wind. No sign of safe harbor for miles. Rations are running low, and the group is restless. But....I just realized I have a blueberry cobbler cooking back home! That...well...that really is going to be sweet, cause it's cooking in a cup of maple syrup!"

Aaaand then on Sunday, I might (maybe), possibly have run the Arthur's Rock loop out at Lory...and then the Reservoir Ridge loop, too! But if Will asks you, I totally didn't.

....

And that was sweet too, metaphorically. Literally, it mostly tasted of alkali salts.

Here's to switching it up, playing on the power hills, even suffering up the long ones... and not wishing for death by yeti or cow.

and we're back..

First let me remind everyone that this is a shared blog. All the funny posts are Lila's. All the excruciatingly boring posts that ramble on in monotone about the particulars of various races and group rides are mine. But with Lila setting the amusement-bar so high I will attempt to do better.

Anyway, the Hickey Racing Clan (TM) is back with a vengeance. Our goals are to slit throats, win money, drink beer, and do it all with less fitness than our competitors. I am going to learn to race like a big guy... I've gotta haul this 80kgs around so I might as well start using it to push little guys out of my way.

My riding fitness is currently really bad but a lot of other stuff is good. Work is more stable and structured than it was a year ago. My core is solid. I am squatting more than I ever have and my diet is the best it's been in years. Plus I invested in an electric razor so when I start shaving it will be faster and with fewer cuts (in the meantime I'm using the razor on my face which is working nicely).

Lila and I have been getting the bikes tuned up in preparation for our awesome training regiment. Coming up... expect pictures, a tentative race schedule, and an insiders perspective on which crits offer the best opportunity for public drunkenness.

Setbacks, Forward Leaps, & Things To Do In Denver When You’re Dead (Tired)

One thing I really do NOT miss about being a competitive cyclist is structured workouts – and the guilt that comes when you miss one.

So nowadays, I do whatever sounds fun, which lately has been a lot of upper body lifting, haphazard pilates, squats, some dance classes and….bouldering?

That’s right, ladies and gentlemen. I now climb on rocks, and it is all that I dreamed it could be.

Turns out my friend Dan climbs at the gym I use - Miramont North. I figured it would be a good workout, plus I get to spend time with a great friend and add to my "cool skills" list:

Anyway, I’ve hit the wall about 5 times in the past two weeks, and was having a great time – until last night. (If I were an expert climber, I would know all the technical terms to explain what happened, but then again, I also probably wouldn’t have hurt myself)... so here’s the greenhorn's explanation:

"So, I was holding onto this one rock with my right hand, and I needed to grab another,

higher rock with my left hand, right? I swung all of my weight onto my right hand, lunged with my left, reaching for the sky (or at least that higher rock). Aaaaand then I felt a distinct and disconcerting popping sensation in my right forearm.

And then I fell off the wall.”

And this was the face Dan made at me :

I’m fairly certain the muscle is just over-fatigued by my "0 to 60" style of exercise, so I scrapped the rest of my climbing and lifting, did 3 fast(ish) miles on the treadmill and called it a day.

Then I went home and iced my arm for a bit. (Dan advises icing with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, so that when the depression sets in, you can numb that too.)

Still, assuming I don’t brake much, I should be able to ride this weekend, but I am going to stop climbing & lifting for a couple weeks, and that makes me a sad panda.

One exercise that I should still be able to do is jump squats – or at least, my paltry version of them.

As I’ve mentioned, Will has started me on various kinds of squats, and jump squats are, hands-down, my worst event. So much so, in fact, that he suggested I do them without any weights (for now).

There are few things more embarrassing than hopping across the gym holding an invisible 20-lb bar. I say hopping across the gym because, despite my best efforts, I seem to migrate forward slightly on each rep, so that by the time I’m finished a set I’ve hopped all the way across the gym floor.

But it’s the only squat I know that doesn’t require me to stabilize weights with my arms, so for the duration of my forearm injury, it’s the one for me.

Sadly, my plans to spend the long weekend in New Mexico fell through. But since I already requested Friday off, I think I'll take advantage of the (pretty) good weather, and log a nice long day on the bike, followed by a trip to Denver for my buddy Ingo’s going-away party.

Ingo is moving to Germany in two weeks - and we've been making vague plans to hang out for the past three months. Going to the party *sounds* like a great idea and a convenient way to see him off, but I can already see myself falling asleep on his (very nice) leather couch, round about 8pm.

But Denver has lots of cyclists, and some of you must have found yourself faking legitimate social interaction after a long day in the saddle.

Tricks? Tips? Coffee shops with espresso so strong it will curl my hair AND teeth?