My number for the Spinners Summer Time Trial Series

This Thursday was a trial just getting to the event! I had busted one of my aero wheels and Boyd Johnson let me borrow one of his while he was putting together a permanent replacement. I didn’t get a chance to put the wheel on the bike until 4:30. When I did, I discovered that the rear derailleur was doing something funky — like the chain was hanging up.

This got me out the door late and then it was time for the criterium race through traffic on Pleasantburg Drive — just as everyone was getting off work. I was starting to get a bit nervous because I needed to start early in the queue so that I could get to my son’s baseball practice to pick him up. My window for registering, warming up and getting to the line was shrinking with each delay.

After registering, I unloaded the bike and took it over to The Great Escape mechanic who was there supporting the riders. I got into my skin suit and then went to pick up my bike. A moment of panic flashed into my mind as I realized that my start time was only 15 minutes away! The mechanic was informing me that the chain was not meshing well with the cog on Boyd’s wheel. I told him to get it working the best he could on a particular gear and then I would go with that.

I went out and did my best to get my legs loose before returning to the line. However, I knew it was going to be a painful experience as my legs were complaining to me that they weren’t ready as I rolled up to the line. I figured I was just going to have to use the out portion as my warmup. If I could just hang in there, my legs should come around on the return.

There isn’t much to say about the actual attempt. I almost immediately started to feel that my legs were bricks. The battle was to fight the negative thoughts that I was just wasting my time. Still, each turn closer to the turn around lifted my spirits.

I looked down at the time and saw I was rolling toward the halfway point at around 11 minutes. In the past, I made this point in just over 10 minutes. Considering how I was feeling, that was actually a relief. The turn came and I determined I wouldn’t look at the wattage. I was just going to ride as best I could back to the finish.

My legs did lose that “brick” feeling. However, now they were starting to feel like noodles. As I soldiered on, I could see other riders making their out attempts. I had been passing some riders, but I couldn’t tell for sure if they were on their attempt or just out warming up. Regardless, I tried to use each one as a rabbit to overtake.

I was thankful that the gearing didn’t give me a problem. The bike was shifting well — not that I was doing a lot of it. However, I did go down to a bit harder gear as I made my way within sight of the finish. The clock stopped at 23:32 for the 10 miles.

That wasn’t what I wanted by any stretch. At the same time, I was much better than I felt I did. I had pretty much convinced myself it was going to be a 24:00+ time. Only being 20 some seconds off my best time was a surprise.

Turns out my out portion took about 11:50. That is significantly slower than previous attempts. However, the back portion took around 12:20. That is significantly better than previous attempts. I imagine there is something to learn in there… I’ve just got to figure out what it is an capitalize on it.

I had to leave before the winning times were announced. However, I figured that since I was competing in the Cat. 1/2/3 field that I wouldn’t be seeing “the podium.” Later, I was surprised to get a tweet from my friend, David McQuaid, who informed me that I had taken second by a second. Chris Calder, having returned from racing with the USA development team in Belgium, crushed all of us with a sub-twenty-one minute effort.

We’ll see how things go next time when most likely there will be a few more heavy hitters who I assume were holding off from the time trial in anticipation of the criterium in Spartanburg tonight. Folks like Eric Christophersen and Matt Tebbetts regularly turn 22 and sub-22 minute efforts. I’ll be on the outside looking in at that point!

However, that is what is so fun about the Spinners series. It really is a relaxed atmosphere. Really, for the majority of the participants it is as though we are a support group cheering each other on against the clock. If you are interested in turning your pedals in competition, this is a great venue to start with.

As for me, I’m determined to improve my time during the next few events. I’ll start by making sure I schedule things better!

I knew the time would come. Really the presence of the USA Cycling Professional Championships has always been tenuous here in Greenville. Now that tension is broken as word is out that the event will move to Chattanooga, Tennessee in 2013.

• The story as reported by WRCB TV
• Story as reported by Velo
• Story as reported by local WSPA 7

Perhaps it was the fact that Philadelphia had hosted the event for a couple of decades lulled us into thinking that the event might find a new home that could give it the same longevity. However, the hints came early that the event was more likely to be “shopped” around on a regular basis.

Seems like just yesterday this sign appeared in Cleveland Park

I remember distinctly the behind the scenes movements to get the race to come back to Greenville. It seemed that each year was another crisis. While on the outside it was given a positive spin, behind the scenes it was pretty clear that at any moment the decision could come down from USA Cycling to move to a new venue.

It wasn’t a matter of Greenville being a good venue. The racing was good. The hospitality was great. Medalist Sports clearly stated they liked the Greenville locale. It all seemed to balance on money and exposure. Would USA Cycling keep looking for ever greener grass after getting loose from the corral in Pennsylvania?

Could we have kept the event? Well, the simple answer to that is that with enough money, sure we could have. However, I wonder if ultimately even money could have kept the event here. Beyond money is the opportunity to expose new audiences to the sport and bring the freshness and excitement that a new venue brings.

So, good for you, Chattanooga. Having the USA Cycling Professional Road and Time Trial Championships in your city will be something you will enjoy. It is a wonderful opportunity for you and as one friend said, “At least it will stay in the south!”

We shouldn’t mind too much here in Greenville. We enjoyed the race for several years. We’ve proven we can handle world class cycling events. Who knows, if USA Cycling continues to take this approach, we may see the pros racing down Main Street once again.

That is how the weather went yesterday. I woke up to a beautiful morning, but before lunch the skies darkened and by 2 PM there were some heavy storms in our area. A friend of mine even had his windshield cracked by hail that he said were the size of tennis balls!

However, the skies cleared and things began to dry. By the time I got off work and started to prep for the racing at the BMW Performance Test Track I could even see some blue sky. At the same time, the reports I was hearing threatened a huge storm for later in the evening. I decided to take my chances.

Here is my number for the POA Summer Series

The Masters race was slated to go off at 6:45 PM. I got there in time to get my bike set up and start spinning a bit. The Category 4/5 race started about the time I got on the bike. A few raindrops started to fall as well.

I held off registering because I didn’t want to pay the fee just to find out the race was called due to storm. Frankly, I also had no desire to race on a wet track. I decided to wait and register at the last moment.

The rain did stop and I got registered. By the time we lined up, the ground was nice and dry and the weather was holding. To our north we could see clearer skies. To the southwest, we could see an ominous wall of clouds. The wind was blowing in such a way that you couldn’t tell which one we would get.

I also had no idea how I would ride. It was just nice to be on the line again. My mind was made up to just have fun and finish.

It was going to be a points race. In this case, that meant that you there would be a sprint for the line every third lap. The top four riders to cross the line would get points. On the final lap all the points doubled. Simply enough, the guy who had the most points at the end would win.

Only 12 of us rolled off at the start. In a way, I was happy for that because it meant that things wouldn’t be crowded on my first race back. It gave me a chance to get comfortable riding the short track in a group at up to 28 mph.

I was also alone in this race. I had no teammates since I was riding “unattached.” That means that I am not riding for a team. I have no teammates to help or to help me.

Knowing that I normally take awhile to get my legs going, my thought was to stay in the group until I was able to warmup. Of course, that all went out the window as we went into turn 3 coming around for the end of the third lap. My momentum was carrying me around the outside of the field as we came into turn 4. Maybe I could grab some points early.

As we continued in turn 4 I kept my cadence high and as other riders were starting to accelerate I was already passing them. There was only one problem. I had started from too far back in the field. I was sprinting it out with about 50 meters to go with two riders ahead with a decent gap. I was wheel-to-wheel with a third rider and he was inching ahead of me.

That is where I had a mental lapse. My logic said, “Hey, it looks like you are not going to get third place and why put out all this energy for nothing. You need to shut down and save it.” There was only one problem with this. Fourth place got points! Just yards from the line I got swallowed. It wasn’t until later that I realized my mistake.

I don’t think it would have mattered much. From that point on, I was pretty much just hanging on. Sure, I was moving about in the field and even tested trying to get in a break here or there, but by 20 minutes in I was in no place to pressure anyone.

At 20 minutes, I was saying to myself, “I’m halfway through. I can do this.” I just wanted to finish. At no point did I lose touch with the field, but I was spending a good amount of time getting pulled along in the back. Attacks were coming and going up ahead of me, but I did only what it took to stay in touch.

Shortly after that at about the 25 mark, I thought, “You can do anything for 15 minutes.” As we passed the line that next time, Blair called out, “Two laps to go!” Hmmmm, that wouldn’t be 40 minutes. That would have us finishing at around 30 minutes.

As we crossed the line the break that had formed was going into turns 1 and 2. I knew we would have a tailwind until the turns and that they would have a headwind coming out of them. Why not give it one last effort to close the gap. So, I went to the front and started to pull.

I could tell from comments behind me that some of the riders thought I was stupid… especially riders in the teams that had guys in the break. However, at this point, I wasn’t riding for tactics. I was riding for fun. My objective was simply: Close down as much of the gap to the break as possible.

It did come down a little, but we never made the connection. I pulled into turns 3 and 4. It was all over at that point. I just got out of the way and soft pedaled into the finish a lap later.

Lessons learned? 1) I can handle the pace. It is more of a matter that I need to get acclimated to it. 2) I need to learn better how to get off the front. I spent a little too much time there early on. 3) I need to work on my sprint. I used to regularly turn 1200 – 1300 watts. Last night at my best I was at 1100 watts.

Oh, as soon as I got my bike in the car we got slammed with a huge lightening storm. I didn’t hang around to find out, but I’m betting that is why the race only went 30 minutes. All that being said, my objectives were accomplished: have fun and finish.

I am a little apprehensive. The ragged feeling in my chest is still with me. It isn’t as bad as yesterday, but I have visions of myself getting into the middle of the race and having to pull out due to a coughing fit.

Still, the legs are feeling good. I hate not to go out and give it a try. Who knows, I might just surprise myself.

Either way, you’ll hear about it.

I got a good illustration of this over the weekend. I was able to compare two different rides with surprisingly different results. It showed that strength can get trumped by efficiency.

As I’ve mentioned, I have been enjoying playing around with Strava. Each time I get done with a ride, I’ll upload the activity and see what new segments I’ve found and how I’ve performed in them. I’ll admit that there are times when I’ve been out expressly looking to “win” a segment!

One of these segments is the Chick Springs TT. I had seen the distance listed as a segment near my home, but it never showed up on my completed list. Then I realized this was because I would typically turn off from the road just before the finish in order to make my way home.

So, I decided to go out and see what I could do. I made the first attempt on the segment after finishing a workout that included some power and steady state intervals. By the time I finished and was heading home, I had time to recover and was feeling pretty good as I approached the start.

I nailed it down and took off. I thought I was flying… maybe I was. A glance at my computer showed I was putting out 700+ watts. I knew I couldn’t keep that up for two plus minutes. I eased up a little, but did try to keep my wattage up. However, as I neared the finish the wattage began to wain and I was having to work really hard to maintain some speed.

The end result was I averaged over 430 watts for the segment with an average speed of 30 mph. However, that was only good for 10th place on the segment. Oh my goodness, that was going to be tough. 11 seconds might not sound like much, until you are sucking for oxygen. If I was that far back after all that work…

My first effort on April 19, 2012

Well, Saturday I went back out for another workout. It was a tough one! This time I had no designs on a KOM on the Chick Springs TT. However, I did find my way down the segment as I was making my way toward downtown Greenville.

I came onto the segment realizing that if I tried to push it I would blow up. My intent was to get a better feel for the setup of the road. I’ve ridden it many times, but not for the purpose of getting speed, but just to get home. This time, I figured I would pay attention to the grade and turns for future reference.

Staying tucked as best I could, I tried to maintain a steady wattage working the downhill sections to my advantage. The finish would be coming up and I didn’t want to have the same falloff of speed over those final meters. Coming up behind two cars on the road forced me to let up even more.

My second effort on April 21, 2012

As you can see in the above chart, this resulted in me actually increasing my wattage at the end of the ride. Still, I hadn’t seen this chart while out on the road. I discounted the attempt as a learning experience and didn’t think any more of it until I got home and looked at the Strava results.

I was one second off of a KOM! Even though I averaged about 45 watts less for the segment, I had a faster time with an average speed of 32.5 mph. It just proves that putting out a lot of wattage doesn’t mean you are fast.

What makes you fast is the efficient application of the wattage. On my first attempt, I was putting out a lot of that wattage on the downhill section of the segment. This meant that when I needed the strength for the upward grade, I didn’t have as much left. On the second attempt by design and happenstance I held back. The final few meters made all the difference.

Now, I’m not saying that power can’t beat efficiency. There are plenty of people out there that have the power to overcome my most efficient attempts. I am saying that when two riders of similar ability cover a distance, the most efficient rider is almost always going to win.

This is also true — even more so — when racing in a group. Knowing how to use the road and riders around you can allow you to get a good finish without using an excessive amount of energy. There are riders out there that don’t have the same amount of sustainable wattage as other racers, but they know how to be there at the end and have enough wattage to take the sprint.

There may be some natural ability to do this, but mostly it comes from an ability to learn from others and from the experiences we have in the group. So, while you are training for power, don’t forget to train your ability to place yourself in the group, read the wind and terrain, and manage your cadence.

Power is always good. Efficient use of that power is always better.

He is right — on a foundational level. I am staying in shape. Most likely my fitness is better than most 44 year old males. However, that wasn’t my goal for the plan. I can stay in good enough shape to be healthy with a lot less pain! My desire is to be able to mix it up again in the Greenville racing scene.

Last night I had the first opportunity to put my stamina to the test. True, it wasn’t an organized race, but as I overheard someone say during the ride, “People here are going harder than they would in a race!” Yep, it was time for the Tuesday Night World Championships. April 3rd was our first of the season (take a look at the course).

When I heard the call that we were doing four laps, I knew I had better cinch my shoes. While some of us out there were riding in these group conditions for the first time of the season, others had already completed a number of races. I was figuring those later ones would light it up early and make us former ones suffer. There wouldn’t be a lot of warming up tonight.

Sure enough, we had hardly gotten halfway around the course when the pace started picking up. At least at this point I settled in about midway to see what would happen. As we finished the first lap a break had already been established.

I won’t go into the blow-by-blow details of the next two laps. My focus was to get a good solid workout. The plan called for two minute power intervals. Since I was cheating by doing a group ride, the only way to pull that off was to attack and then recover. So, my behavior during that period didn’t make a lot of tactical sense, but it was the best way to get some efforts in.

During each of those laps I moved into a chase group that cut into or eliminated the advantage of the breakaway. A break would form. Some of us would move forward to chase. The field would come together. I would fade back to recover and then the next break would be off.

That brings us to the final lap. There was a break ahead as we passed the start-finish line. A slightly disorganized pace line formed and we began to chase. David Curran pulled us for a long solid pull and then as we neared the golf course climb I was on the front.

I was pulling the group closer and closer to the break, but then I realized I was in too big a gear. My legs had that sudden feeling that they were swelling up like balloons filled with bricks and I was losing momentum. My brain was saying “Spin!” and my legs were saying “We are!”, but nothing was happening.

Shifting to an easier gear caused me to lose that much more momentum and about that time my heart rate caught up to my effort. Swooosh! I was done and the field came around me. It kept coming around me as I tried to gather myself. I knew the last rider was coming past when I heard him urge, “Get back on!” I glanced back and saw empty road.

Now, I will say (not to my credit) that there have been times when I would have just sat up. I would listen to the negative talk so my mind saying I couldn’t hang in there to the finish. On these final laps of the TNWC we’re talking speed!

This Tuesday was different. 1) I wasn’t worried about blowing up. I had no team to support or embarrass. I had nothing to prove. 2) Experience told me that riding the rest of the course alone would be worse than if I could get into the field.

First, I had to get there. I was only about 10 meters off the back of the field, but it seemed like I couldn’t close the gap. There was some acceleration on the front so I had to keep pushing a bit. I just kept telling myself, “If you can just reconnect, you’ll make it!” I gave it one last effort and made contact.

It was after this that I was pleasantly surprised. Once I rejoined the group I found myself moving with renewed power to the front of the field. Once we got over the railroad tracks, I was able to continue moving into a position at the front of the field.

I knew we had a break, but wasn’t sure if there was more than one. It was hard to know since the situation formed while I was moving up from the back. What I could see was a small group beginning the climb and a lone rider trying to bridge across as we dipped down into the depression that would start the climb to the finish.

As my group began the climb, I started to move up toward the front. I would grab the wheels of various riders who would accelerate from positions near me. We caught the lone rider and with a kilometer to go it appeared we started swallowing up some of the break.

Suddenly, I found myself sitting third wheel on the point of the field. I’m not aware if any of the break survived or not. All I know is that at that moment I thought to myself, “I can’t believe I am here!”

I realized I was in the perfect spot for the sprint if we kept the pace up. The first rider appeared unattached. The rider whose wheel I was enjoying was a VeloShine rider — I didn’t think it was Jae Bowen or Bruce Humphries. His legs definitely looked like he could handle a sprint!

Then the first rider faltered and the VeloShine rider lifted his pace as well. I was caught in a moment of indecision. I had banked so much on coming out of their draft and now the draft dissipated with about 500 meters to go. I hesitated just a moment staying on the wheel in front of me. Then we were swarmed by riders coming around us.

I could have jumped into the fray, but with 200 meters to go my favored wheel had now moved around the first rider and I had to slow to keep from running up his wheel as riders went around both sides of me. There would be other rides. No need to cause an accident on my first one back!

I finished elated! Not because I had ridden a smart “race”, but because I had whipped myself like a dog and still had something left at the end. For the very first time since my broken neck in 2010, I felt that feeling. Finally, my body is starting to feel like it belongs to me and I can make it do what my brain tells it to.

We covered just under 29 miles and averaged 25 mph. My peak wattage was 1045 watts for 2 seconds. Several times in the ride I put out two minute intervals from 320 to 470 watts. The average power for the entire event was 218 watts. Yep, it’s coming back!

Most of all, it was fun again.

Typically, I divide my goals with the bicycle into three sections — racing, personal and charitable. Racing goals can be your typical “A”, “B” and “C” type events that you try to peak for. These goals can also be aims within the race — improvements in performance and knowledge of the sport. Personal goals are more associated with training. Working toward a certain FTP or a time up Paris Mountain. Charitable goals have normally culminated in my Ride for Mike events.

I guess I’ll do the same thing this year. One thing I know is that I need some goals in order to stay motivated. It is just up to this point, thinking of goals has made me tired.

Racing

There will be plenty of opportunities to race locally this year. It all starts with the Spring Series in mid-February. You can have some pretty serious racing under your belt by the end of March. Also in March is the Spring Cycling Extravaganza — a new two day series presented by the POA Cycling Team. As for April, I don’t know if I’ll take the trip down to Charleston for the SC crit championships this year, but the St. Francis summer series starts up locally.

May presents opportunities at the Spartanburg Regional Classic and another St. Francis race. June brings about the SC road race championship, the SC time trial championship and, yes, another St. Francis race. July could see me in Asheville again for the French Broad TT and road race. There is a St. Francis race near the end of the month as well.

The new race weekend “End of Summer Blowout” will take place in August along with the continuing St. Francis race. September brings the end of most racing — except cross — with the final St. Francis race. So, there is plenty of racing right in the general Greenville area. Throw in other races within an hour or so drive and you could nearly race twice a week or more the months March – August.

That isn’t my plan. My “A” race is going to be the SC Road Race Championship on June 9. My goal is to be as fit as I can be to be on form for a top 10 finish. I’ll use any racing up to that point as a means to reach that goal. I’m definitely not planning to explode out of the gate for the Spring Series!

Other than that, but goals will be to put a more conscious effort into watching and learning — becoming smarter. That means better skill wise, better reading moves and better at using the field to put me in the best place. This will happen by racing and watching riders I know have been in this game for a long time. The goal is to set a lesson plan for each race, focus on that one thing and grade myself at the end.

Personal

This one is simple. I want to return to my obsession with the mountain. I realize many people think this is a Don Quixote endeavor.  However, when I think back to some of my more fun periods on the bike, they include my attempts to bring my time down on that 2.2 mile stretch of road.

My goal here is simple. I want to get a personal best climbing Altamont Road. That means I have to climb it in less than 11 minutes and 24 seconds.

Charitable

Here is where I face a challenge. In the past, I have always had a clear road ahead for my goal by this time in the year. For 2012, I don’t have an “epic” ride in mind.

Originally, my goal was actually much larger. My plan was (is?) to start a new foundation — iridefor.org. Its purpose is to help others who want to be an encouragement by personally supporting people in need. Basically, it would be to provide tools and knowledge to help anyone carry out their own “Ride for Mike.”

The problem for me right now is that to make this a success, I would have needed to be much farther along in the process right now. I just don’t know if I can pull it off on the same scale for 2012 that I originally dreamed.

At the same time, if you don’t have goals, you might as well not dream. I still have a dream for iridefor.org. While I may not hit the stars this year, I don’t see why I can’t land on the moon.

So, there you go. I’ve laid it out what I’m thinking. That is another part of setting goals… you need some accountability. That is one of the main reasons for this blog.

Thanks for keeping an eye on me.

Ahhhh, pro cycling. It is a love hate relationship. I won’t get into all of the baggage here, but will just say that much of the past has left me jaded. Granted, last year seemed to be an improvement over some previous ones. Perhaps the peloton truly is casting out its demons… but like most demons, the specters won’t go quietly. I fully expect that we’ll have our share of announcements during this year.

Still, despite the times in the past where I’ve flown too close to the flames of disappointment, the first few stages that displayed on my TV screen awakened the love for the sport. I realize that if you have never competed in cycling it might be hard to understand. However, if you have ever felt the pain of riding to the edge of your endurance to advance a teammate or maintain a breakaway — not to mention the exhilaration of having that pain pay off with victory — you understand.

I’ve said it before, but that is the thing that makes the sport so intimate. Watching most other sports and you can plainly see that the ability of the participants vastly exceeds your own. I admire watching my favorite basketball player soar to a thunderous dunk. However, I’ve never experienced that feeling first-hand (except maybe the times I played on an 8ft. goal). I’ve played backyard football before, but it isn’t anything like what we saw this weekend with the AFC and NFC championship games.

Pro cycling is deceptive. “Hey,” I’ve even heard, “It’s just a bunch of grown men riding bicycles.” How many times have I been asked, “Are you ever going to ride in the Tour de France?” It is in that way that pro cycling — especially on TV — is deceptive. It is harder to tell the difference between the professional and the amateur.

Is there a difference? You betcha! The power output, the speeds, the skill, the close quarters of the peloton… they are steps above. At the same time there is a relative similarity. A top sprinter is putting out 1800+ watts going toward the line. I’m pegged at 1300 at best. Those guys would leave me like I was sitting still. However, if you were to look at our faces and attempt to judge our efforts, you couldn’t tell that much of a difference. The uninitiated would not have the same sense of awe that I would.

While I was watching Will Clarke riding to hold off the rushing peloton around Sterling I not only got caught up in the excitement of the chase, I also had an inkling of what the Tasmanian was going through. I was on that bike with him willing the break to succeed. As he rolled across the line with his limbs shaking I could empathize.

I climbed on the trainer later that day with a little more motivation than usual. Watching the pros helped awaken a little more of the desire. During one stretch on the trainer when I set a goal to hold a certain wattage for a certain period of time, Clarke came to my mind as my mind started questioning my ability to do it. I imagined myself trying to hold off the peloton and if I could just hold the wattage until that time I would be the winner!

Of course, I was reminded once again of the darker sides of cycling when Alejandro Valverde took the fifth stage. I guess that is part of the story as well. I guess we all hope for forgiveness and redemption. In a way, I’m looking for a little of that myself in 2012.

Racing on a team – and a team at the level of POA – is a great experience. When I first started racing my bike, the thought of racing on a team with regional and national championship caliber riders seemed a pipe dream. However, the door opened and though my skill level was well below that of my mates, I was wearing the red and white kit.

As a category 4 racer, I earned my keep. I remember the early part of the 2010 season with great fondness! Every race I entered I knew I had a chance to make the podium and about 75 percent of the time, I did.

The success brought a change. I was bumped up to the category 3 level. Had you asked me a year before if I would move up to that category, I would have laughed. But I found myself suiting up for my first category 3 race in May of 2010. On that day, everything changed.

I don’t dwell on it anymore, but the fact is I wrecked and broke my neck that day. Laying highly medicated in the ER, I thought I had just strained my neck and jammed some fingers. I would shake this off just like other accidents and be on my bike in no time. It wasn’t until they began to move me to a gurney to take me to get an MRI that I had a pang of pain — and of fear — strike me.

However, by September I was out of the neck brace and my broken fingers had healed as well. It was time for the 2010 Ride for Mike. I was covering 700 miles in 7 days. Though it was tough, I did it. It left me thinking that I definitely had the accident beat. Looking back, I realize I was deceived.

I came into the 2011 season ready to race in the Masters category with my team. My fitness was not at the level of 2010, but I felt that I would get back to form soon. I tried to approach the races with the same confidence as a year ago.

I couldn’t — or wouldn’t — see it then, but looking back I realize that while my neck had healed, I had lost some of the fire. Gone was the abandon to squeeze through a hole and the feeling of invincibility. I had always had a view of myself that I could bounce back from about anything. Knock me down and I would get back up. I still felt that way, but now I had a different view of the process of getting knocked down!

My neck would still grow stiff in a road race. I was living with constant pain in my hip. I was training hard and the numbers showed I was nearing 2010 form, but I was getting dropped in races. I could go with the best for a short period, but I just could not sustain it. The more I got dropped the more frustrated I became. I was a mental basket case.

I’m ashamed to say there were times that I took that frustration out on some of my teammates. I was slipping into a pool of negative feelings. By the end of the season racing — and even riding my bike — wasn’t so much fun anymore.

It was at that time I began to contemplate leaving POA. At the same time I argued with myself that I would probably regret it in 2012 when I would perhaps be out of my slump. It is true that I was beginning to find myself near the end and in my final race, I rode better than I had in a while.

In the midst of this arguing, I received an email from our manager laying out for us the expectations for the team in the next year. There was a call for commitment that I realized I could not meet. To do so would take me away from things that should be much more important in my life than racing a bike.

At the same time, I was gearing up for the 2011 Ride for Mike. In training for it, I began to discover again the joy of just riding my bike. The old challenge that used to drive me to conquer a mountain or distance reawakened.

Also, while I was training, it gave me time to turn my mind from racing back to some dreams I had put on hold while trying to move up in the racing ranks. It was somewhere out there on a bike in northern Greenville County that my commitment to my family and my dream over-weighed my desire to race. At that point, I knew it would be wrong to race with POA because I would not be able to bring to the team the commitment it deserved.

So, I let Blair and the rest of the team know that I will race unattached in 2012. I have never intended not to race. I enjoy racing, but it is going to have to fit into my life and not me fit my life around racing. Ultimately, I think it will make me a better racer.

I love the POA Team. I’m sure I could find a team out there that would take me. At this point, if I’m not racing with POA, then I’d rather race unattached.

I’m looking forward to 2012 and all the change it will bring. Who knows, things may change again in 2013. One thing I’m pretty sure of — the future will include a bicycle.

2011 Ride for Mike update: We are now at $2,240 toward our $4,500 goal! Please consider giving today at RideForMike.com/pledge.

I rummaged around for a bit trying to find my race number. Finally, I had to decide to get out of the house and just get another one when I got to the track. This put me a little later than I would have liked for warming up.

Still, it was a beautiful evening. I was glad to be back racing. It would be interesting to see how my tempo training would affect my racing.

We rolled off and immediately Blair called for a cash prime on the first lap. Settling in about mid-pack, I just tried to get used to the speeds. This was a combined field of the Masters and 1-2-3 categories. There were some fast young guys in the field!

Before long a break had formed. I could see there was no POA rider among those who were extending their lead around the track. I started to move up toward the front in hopes of helping to bring the group up to them.

As I neared the front I could see John James already starting to pull.  I slotted in and waited until John was done and moved to take his place. The gap continued to drop and I was pulling for all I was worth.

Then I started running out of steam. The field started to come up beside me and I pulled over a bit to see the status of my team mates. Then I saw Jae Bowan start to make a move over the gap. I hoped we had gotten him close enough to make it.

At that point, I started to slip back. After a couple laps I started to be able to move about in the group. I began to think about getting back up to the front to do at least one more effort to get my guys in position.

It was then I was reminded once again of why you don’t ride at the back — or why you must be patient when trying to move from the back to the front. I was trying get back up front on a straight. The problem was that the field was stretching out — meaning we were moving at a good speed. By the time I got up to the front I didn’t have anything left to make a move. I would get sucked back.

I tried that several times until I heard Blair call that there were only 6 laps left. At that point I knew the speeds would ramp up and it was time to focus on getting a finish. With three laps to go I started to feel that “I can’t close that gap” feeling, but rode through it. Finally as we went into the chicane, I eased up and rode in with some other riders who had done their work and were staying out of the fray.

Overall though, it was a good night. That is until I left. When I got home I unloaded the car and then went to upload my ride data for my coach. “Annette,” I asked my wife who had helped me unload, “Did you see my Garmin?” “No,” she replied and offered to go look in the car again knowing that I prone to look right past things. It wasn’t there.

I thought back to the evening and it hit me. I had placed the Garmin on the top of the car as I was putting the bike in the rack. “Don’t forget to get that,” I remembered thinking. Well, I went to put something else in the back of the car and must have forgotten to get it. It is now somewhere on Hwy. 101 or I-85.

Some day I will learn that I cannot change my routine. If I do, I am always bound to lose something. Funny, my Ecclesiastes Tweet for today was, “Life is full of holding on and letting go.” It is taken from chapter 3 verse 6, There is “a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away.”