Tune up...

Following eight intense hours on the bike last week I had to drop off The Demon for a tune up. Logic should have told me to have the ride tuned while I was unable to cycle but then again when have I ever done anything logical? Despite the fact that my power is on the rise with every ride my shifting performance was such that I was making a barrage of technical mistakes on climbs. Without the services of my trusty steed I decided to do a workout on my punching bag with some dumbbell reps between intervals. My arms a pretty shaky this morning and I bruised/cut my right pinkie knuckle pretty good. On the plus side it actually seems like I am putting some muscle on my upper body for the first time in six years. I will give a full length update this weekend when I attempt my first run. I think I am going to go buy a new log to get myself off to a solid start.

Mark

Attached are a couple of shots of the fam at Plum Island last weekend.

A Quick One While He's Away...

My last couple of posts have been rather vague reflections of my current mental state. It seems as if the time has come to update the blogosphere on the current state of my recovery and training. So far this week I have put in seven highly intense hours on The Demon. I have been riding an absurd amount of technical climbs and have found some brilliant single track descents that have brought many smiles to my face. My achilles has been standing up to everything pretty well until yesterday. Any number of things could have caused the tiny amount of irritation that I am feeling today. Thursday night I did a fair amount of walking in my Crocs, something I said I was not going to do until I was 100%. Yesterday was also extremely wet in Keene and according to Mary the moisture always makes her achilles worse. On top of all of that I tortured myself for one hundred and twenty five minutes in the hills of Keene. I'll ride significantly easier today with the hope of staving off any further hiccups in my recovery. All signs are still pointing to a first run on August first.

Mark

This Old Guitar, or Pair of Sidi's...

It's seen its share
of dreams and hopes
And never went out of style
The more I play it, the better it sounds

-Neil Young

Way back in the early to mid nineties I fancied myself quite the young up and coming mountain biker. My formative years as a distance runner combined with my freakish balance and daring nature made me an ideal xc rider. My burgeoning success came with a rather heavy price. Literally! Mountain biking is expensive. I got my first job to buy my first real bike and all the components I could get my hands on. Unfortunately, picking up garbage and emptying trash cans in Shelburne Falls was not as lucrative as I hoped. As a result much of my early equipment was amateurish and borderline cheap. All of that would change in the early months of nineteen ninety-six.

Leafing through month after month of Mountain Bike Action brought me to the conclusion that the only way I could possibly be a credible racer was if I had clipless pedals. I had skimped and saved every penny of Christmas money and allowance ( I only picked up garbage in the summer) to make this major purchase. I bought a pair of highly recommended Onza H.O. pedals that proved to be incredibly disappointing in the long run and began my search for shoes. Obviously with any sport there are varying levels of footwear. Bottom dollar starter shoes to the Holy Grail of cycling footwear, the Italian leader in elegance and performance, Sidi. Early on in the search I got it into my mind that Sidi was the only option if I wanted to be the best.

Needless to say my parents were eager to pipe in their opinion about their son throwing down one hundred and seventy five dollars on a pair of cycling shoes. There was the obvious objection based on price alone but also the more reasonable observation that I was still only five foot six inches tall and growing by the month. Even Bob Perry at Bicycles Unlimited in Greenfield tried to talk me into a pair of Lake's that resemble a hiking boot gone horribly awry. In an early display of stubborn behavior, that would become the norm that would ultimately lead to great success in endurance events, I bought the Sidi's.

Every mountain bike ride and a small percentage of road rides have been comfortably and stylishly completed in these incredible shoes. The Sidi Dominator II has long since been replaced by flashier updates with newer bells and whistles. I would never do this shoe the disservice of retirement. The fit is not as it once was and the buckles are a bit sticky but these shoes still kick some serious trail. In a perfect world I would be on a massive technical climb and both shoes would simultaneously rip off my scrunched feet. I would bury them on the spot and contemplate this most bittersweet moment. This would be the only fitting end to such a remarkable shoe that has been such a part of my life for the last fourteen years.

Happy Trails,

Mark

Tenerife...

Off the northwestern coast of Africa is a tiny chain of volcanic islands. Ask most westerners, especially an American, and most will not have a clue where the Canary Islands sit. Tenerife is the largest of these massive volcanic monsters that dot the African coast.

Sometime this morning a native boy stood on one of the western facing docks away from the more populated tourists resorts. The native boy stood with a rather unique flat volcanic stone that he had found on his way to his morning shift at the dock. The boy had always heard great stories of the elders skipping such stones great distances before they disappeared into the morning horizon. The boy often wondered what happened to the many stones the elders had once thrown. Reaching back with his arm parallel to the glistening water he skipped the flat stone into the distance where it disappeared as he imagined with a tiny splash. The native boy smiled and moved on with his day proud to have touched the past of his elders.

As the stone became an afterthought in the boys wandering mind a ripple formed around where the stone pierced the surface of the calm waters. The ripple continues to speed away from the mighty crater of Tenerife. The ripple soon became a tiny wave moving on a northwestern path destined for a distant land. Some say that ripple turned into a mighty wave destined for an amazing journey that was sadly meant for a spectacular yet crashing end. Fortunately, the wave has only begun its long odyssey.

Mark

Shutting it down...

Due to lingering pain in my achilles I have officially decided to pack it in until I am 100%. I will continue to swim and do extensive rehab work with the goal of getting on the bike again before I can run. I have no clue how long this is going to take but I would rather get this behind me. Obviously three miles four days a weeks is not going to get me fit.

Mark