2024 Book #3: Born To Run by Christopher McDougall

The quintessential running book from 2009, that all runners know and love (and that I, a runner, had never heard of until my girlfriend told me about it this year).  Well, now I get to be part of the club. And, I actually read it, not listened to it, which is a first this year (and the first in a while to be honest).  I really enjoyed it, from the larger story arc of the Tarahumara running tribe, to the deep dives on biomechanics and anthropology, the historical nods to places and events I am familiar with, and the mystery and adventure.

One of the interesting things I, a Born to Run late-comer, found especially interesting was reading online now the impact this book had on the running world at the time of its release.  It kicked off a barefoot running craze, and spurred the creation of a number of shoe companies aiming to mimic the sandals of the tribe (granted, some of these had already been started, one of the biggest by a main character from the book).  I found myself trying to follow up with all the participants in the titular Greatest Race the World Has Never Seen, to see what they were up to now.  And having spent a number of years up in Leadville for a weekend around the 100 mile mountain bike race, and hearing Ken Chlouber talk in person, that section of the book gave me an extra interest in the story.

I must admit, I went and bought myself of barefoot/minimalist shoes, and feel inspired to start running again and experiment with natural diets (have I done either of those last 2 things?  no, but I'm inspired to and that's like half the battle).  Anyways, it was a compelling read, I enjoyed the writing style and found myself hooked to it.  One of those stories that feels like fiction, and I'm so glad was able to be captured in this way.

Parting Thoughts

I mean, there's only really one way to go...

2024 Book #2: The Girl Who Saved Christmas by Matt Haig

I gotta be honest, I only picked this up because I was interested in some other Matt Haig books after finishing How To Stop Time.  But all the other ones, highest on the list being The Midnight Library, were unavailable.  Also, it was short (5 hours - for comparison, How To Stop Time is 10 hours, and the book I've now jumped into is 32 hours...)  Also also, it was near enough to the holiday spirit.  So instead of digging deeper into my "To Read" list, I picked it up and cruised through it.  If I'm real honest, I didn't even check that it isn't some different Matt Haig.  But no regrets.

The basic concept of the book is right in the title, the world is losing hope (wait, is this fiction?) and that means there's trouble for Father Christmas. It's a cute listen, establishes a lovely little North Pole environment, and is fun to listen to.  The little things like how the Elves keep time (ie, 5 minutes until quite late), the magic, the pixies, the reminder to love and have hope, all make it an enjoyable romp.  Add on top of that, a pretty despicable bad guy, a little historical tie-in, some action and adventure... it's thumbs up all around from me!

Parting Thoughts

Pop! Six! Squish! Uh uh, Cicero, Lipschitz!

2024 book #1: How To Stop Time by Matt Haig

Why Does This Post Exist?

I have started listening to books a lot.  This is a practice I was definitely not in 2 years ago.  In fact, if you'd have asked I would have said I can't listen to books, I always space out or start doing something else and miss what's happening.  That's still partially true, but I find I pay attention pretty well while driving, and am fine listening to 5 minutes of a book each way to the grocery store.  All of which is to say, I've started finishing a lot more books in the last year.  2023 included:

• The War of Lost Hearts trilogy, Carissa Broadbent (high fantasy, with a big love story and occasional sex scene)
• The Grimrose Girls, Laura Pohl (more fantasy, YA)
• King Maybe, Timothy Hallinan (heist, thriller)
• 101 Essays That Will Change the Way You Think, Breanna West (self help?)
• Calypso, David Sedaris (comedy)
• A Tale for the Time Being, Ruth Ozeki (sort of fantasy)
• Euphoria, Lily King (I'm going to stop putting in genre now because I can't figure it out)
• In Ascension, Martin MacInnes (no, this one is definitely SciFi)
• Soul City, Thomas Healy (history)
• American Gods, Neil Gaiman (fantasy... guess I didn't stop)

and even read an actual physical book, Shinju, Laura Joh Rowland (historical fiction thriller, which was acquired because the used book store's credit card machine was out of order and I had $4).

Anyways, I want to keep reading and listening, and I don't want to lose track of what I've completed.  The above list took some research and thinking real hard, and my brain ain't made for that.  Being a man of the modern era, figured why not throw it on the internet for the world (or at least my mom) to see.

How to Stop Time, Matt Haig

I am not doing this to do a book report or necessarily even recommend the books I complete to anyone, so this "review" might be very short.  I more want to capture how they leave me feeling, and if I enjoyed them.  And this book made me feel. I would call this book part historical fiction, part scifi, part philosophy, part romance, part mystery, part motivational speech.  There were a million quotes from this book which I want to store in my memory banks.  At the end of the day, this book is a reminder to be present in your life.  And how a perfect moment might stop time and linger for a while.

High level, it's about people who live a very long time.  But it's more about what they experience, how that has shaped them, love come and gone (but never really gone), the power of music (a brief but poignant bit of the book), and relationships.

The book kept me interested, plot-wise, it wasn't all cutesy quotes about life and love.  It moved along at a good enough pace, I was constantly interested in what I would learn next about the main character's past, and what his next move would be. There were some twists and turns.  I was invested in the outcome.  But I definitely stepped away feeling a reminder to appreciate what I have, embrace the now, and live without fear.

So, there ya go.  I'm not gonna rate it, but my professional opinion is you'd enjoy it.  Go forth!

Parting Thoughts

"I could stay lost in this moment forever" - Aerosmith

The end of the hunt

The time is nigh, the end is near

the final riddle now is here.

In the story down below

you'll find some words you're sure to know.

Take one word forward and one word back

rearrange and type the final phrase in slack

Once upon a cold 2020, a Boulder creature awoke.  It was still.  A little too still.  Not honks, not beeps, not snow stirring, nothing.  It was not Festivus even!  But this little creature, it was North Pole mouse I think, breathed a heavy sigh of relief.  Because it got to stop trying to figure out these friggin clues.

A year late: My first Leadville 100

So, let me take you back in time.  Hop in the Delorean with me.  On August 11, 2018, a full year ago, I took on the Leadville 100.  I really meant to write up my experience at the time, to follow up my blog on the Silver Rush, provide a little insight in to the experience and maybe help out some future first-timer looking for information.  So in that vein, better late than never right?

Intro

A few book-keeping things to get out of the way.  If you don't know me (and let's be honest, if you're reading this you're probably a close relative... Hi, Mom!) go back to the Silver Rush blog again and read the Who Am I section.  Context is important.  What I will add to that is, I rode a lot between Silver Rush and LT100.  A couple big centuries (with 7000+ and 10000+ feet of climbing), morning rides several days a week, and ALWAYS Wednesday HIIT.  I don't know what I'm doing, really, but I know the power I gained from intervals was noticeable, and necessary.  However, I hit the mountain bike only once or twice in between, a couple 30-milers.  Almost all my training was on the road.  Good enough, right?

First Things First

I need to get this out of the way up top, because it was the most memorable and important part of the ride at the end of the day.  THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU, to all of my supporters/crew/emotional stability that showed up to cheer me on.  My Dad, 10x finisher and LT100 OG, provided me timing and race advice, and cleaned my chain at the bottom of Columbine on the way back, big time.  My sisters, niece and nephew, and my amazing wife, you all gave me something to look forward to and kept me going.

And to the volunteers, they were amazing.  At the hatchery inbound, they took my camelbak off of me and refilled it while I explored the fine food options.  At Carter inbound, so near the finish and then end of my rope, the woman who handed me watermelon also yelled at me for stopping too long (in a good way) and got my tired ass moving.  Y'all rock!

The Day Before

Ok, let's get moving on the race itself.  Turns out, required checkin the day before, so we rolled in early, got checked in, explored the festivities, and most importantly took a quick spin out and pre-rode the final climb.  This proved to me so invaluable to me, mentally, when I got there the next day because I had a solid feel for what was still to come, and what effort was required to ride up the final hill (spoiler alert: I finished the race).  You should do this.

Also, everywhere I went in the race village people were swapping stories and giving advice from their own personal adventures, it was great!  One thing I heard, and took with me, was some guy suggesting to just lock up the rear wheel and slide down the top of Columbine (don't touch the front!).  Worked wonder for me!  Did I mention I don't really know what I'm doing...

Race Day!

It's a long race, so I won't get in to too many details, but highlight some fun stories and key spots.  Mostly, my advice is just: keep the legs moving.  You can get there.  Eventually.

The corral at the start was cold, and I'm going to have to think about what to do with clothing if/when I do this again (I did title this entry "My First").  Standing around at 6am at 10000 feet is cold.  The first thing you do when the race starts is go downhill, cold.  But as soon as you get that out of the way, you start working, and you want to have as little extra baggage as possible.  I ended up wearing leg and arm sleeves, and dropped them with my crew after Powerline.

Anyways... packed in the corral, a few groups back.  The first couple miles are paved, downhill, fast and chaotic.  My bike doesn't roll as fast as some others, so I just took what gravity gave me and figured it would all work out.  As I hit the dirt at the bottom, I was engulfed in a dust cloud, streaked with the dawn sun.  I don't know how much dirt I inhaled during the first hour of the race, but I know I felt it at the end.  I might legitimately wear a facemask of some kind in the beginning.  Also, it's all just clogged with people.  If you're not at the front, actually racing, don't even worry about moving up until you're done with the Carter climb 11 miles in.  I hung out, went as fast as the field allowed, and felt good getting the first climb out of the way.

I skipped this aid and tucked in for the paved decent over to Powerline.  Now, I've never considered myself much of a descender, but I think this is where the Silver Rush experience came in to play.  I flew down the Powerline descent, which to be honest is sketchy af.  And I felt great!  I probably made a couple ill-advised passes, but kept the rubber side down and a smile on my face.  You know, roughly.  It's loose, and there's a giant crevasse in between the two tracks, but there's usually a logical line and if you keep the front wheel moving you'll be in good shape.

Why did I bother with a water bottle when I was wearing a camelbak?

This was the first spot I found my crew.  All I did was throw them the sleeves and move on.  I tagged on to a little train and pulled with them as much as I could through this relatively flat block of miles.  I skipped the aid at Pipeline out, still feeling good. I surely under-fueled the first 40, but I just wanted to get them out of the way and get to Columbine.  I met the crew at Twin Lakes just before the climb, bathed in their adoration, and took a brief rest and some solid food.

Still feeling good.  I'm a dork.  And, how you doin?

Columbine

Yeah, this part gets its own section.  It's the part of the race you plan around (though, as I'll get to in the next section, not really the worst part).  7 (ish) miles, 3000 (ish) feet up, topping out over 12000 feet.  All in all, this is where I actually felt prepared for this race.  Most of the climb isn't technical, the part that is technical none of us mortals actually ride anyways.  It's pretty smooth dirt road, you just gotta keep pedaling.  And to my planned schedule, this is where I made up the most time.  The legs actually felt good, and I was passing people.  At Twin Lakes out I was 982nd place, but by the turnaround I was 785th.  Not to say it wasn't completely exhausting, but you just spin spin spin.  I told my dad prior to the race, after having read someone else's race blog, that I really wanted to ride all of Columbine.  That, it turns out, is a dumb idea.  And whoever wrote that was wrong.  Moral of the story is, trust no blog but mine.  The top 2ish miles are mostly a long line of walkers.  I am so happy we had good weather, because hiking slowly at 12000 feet hauling a bike could be an absolute nightmare with some nice summer hail.

Having topped out, and feeling pretty good about myself, I began the descent.  And this is actually where the race started to take its toll on me.  If I thought the climb was tiring, the 10 miles back down is... well, a different kind of tiring.  My shoulders, wrists and hands really, really wanted to be done with it.  This is also about the time of the race my lungs started to complain.  I don't know if it was the elevation, or the effort, or the fact that I had been inhaling dirt for 6 hours (a little bit from each column, more likely) but breathing started to get hard.  Oh well, just 40 more miles, I told myself!

Back down, STILL upright the whole time (#winning).  Stopped at the aid station at Twin Lakes, just a few hundred feed before my crew, to stock up on some things they didn't have.  Potato chips and watermelon became the food of the gods.  It was so good.

Powerline Inbound

18 more miles of rolling dirt from Twin Lakes back to Powerline were largely me telling myself that everything is going to be fine, you're most of the way there!  Took a relatively leisurely stop this time at the Pipeline aid station, and kept on moving.   And this, to me, is where the race tries to steal your soul.  To any future riders, I think it's perfectly reasonable as you walk back up Powerline, very slowly, to question every good decision you made in your life.  I mean, you chose to do this LT100, have all your decision been this bad?  Why is the tall man in the black robe and the scythe walking next to you, and why do you long for his sweet embrace?  But these are just fleeting thoughts.  Each of the multiple false summits might make you restart this conversation in your head, but you're so close.

In all seriousness, this is the mental fortitude part of the race.  It's a slog, and like the top of Columbine, only the elite are going to be riding it.  And the false summits are a bitch (this is actually something I had in mind because of another conversation I had the day before in the village, which helped).  I rode intermittently after the initial summit, for the most part rideable, probably all rideable earlier in the day.  The descent off the backside is also one of the rougher descents in the race, so Powerline up, and down to the pavement, will all require your attention.  But then you're home-free!  Ish...

Finishing

I was grateful the climb back up to Carter was paved for a little reprieve, and I started to feel human  again.  The descent off Carter was actually about the most fun I had in the race.  I was flying, even got some mini-air a couple times just because.  There was a guy following me down, who high fived me when got back to flats for leading such a fun descent.  The end was in sight!  And this is where that ride the day before paid so much in dividends.  Most of the people near me turned the corner for the final climb, and immediately jumped off and started walking.  With the context and the knowledge from the day before, I rode the whole way home.  It wasn't easy, but just having that in my head, I knew I could make it.  The dirt road at the top became way longer that I recalled, my lungs were screaming, my legs were threatening to run away and leave my torso to fend for itself, but we made it!

Do I look happy?

Conclusion

An epic day.  Solid type 1/type 2 fun.  It took me a while after the race to want to eat and, like, stand up, but within a few hours I was actually feeling pretty reasonable, and by the next day willing to do it all over (probably next year).  10:44:29 on the clock, 15 minutes ahead of my goal time.  I got my belt buckle and my sweatshirt, I stayed upright, the weather was beautiful, no hugs to strange skeletal figures in black cloaks.  It was an amazing day!

Leadville Silver Rush 2018: Done and Dusted

The Leadville Silver Rush is a 50 mile mountain bike race in Leadville, CO, which I rode on July 7, 2018.  My main goal in doing this ride was to qualify for a corral at the 100, and get some hard mountain bike training.  I will give a little detailed route summary below, but first some stage-setting.  I found these summaries particularly interesting to me in researching the ride, so hopefully someone finds this and appreciates the insight.

Who Am I?

I would call myself a passionate-but-not-crazy cyclist.  At the time of the Silver Rush, I probably had 600-700 miles in on the year, plus a lot of trainer time I didn't record, usually between 1-2 hours.  I also tried to make sure to do some high-intensity interval training once a week.  I started really training for this race late May (I was training for my first half-marathon before that, so I wasn't starting from scratch).  Only about 100 of those miles was actually on dirt, mostly Marshall Mesa and one nice 30+ mile day on Heil to Picture Rock to Hall and back.  That ride made me question what I was possibly thinking signing up for the hardest 50 I could find so close to starting legitimately training.

I think it's worth saying, I got good genes (thanks, Dad!), and I seem to train up quick.  I'm not particularly fast, but endurance is more natural to me than some .  I also have never lived below 5000 feet, and I've always felt good at elevation (that said, the 4th and last time hitting 12000' on the day,  I could not control my heartrate, and was a little concerned I HAPEd myself or something).  I only mention this because if you're reading this to look at my approach to the race, it's good to know I'm cheating a little.

The Race Overview

The most important thing to know is this: The race designers are sadists.  They hate you and your legs.  They're also not particularly fond of your ass or your hands.  Which isn't to say I didn't enjoy it, but I was there to suffer.  There were several occasions I thought about yelling "FLUGELHORN", that of course being my safe word (mutually agreed upon with the spirit of the Silver Rush).  But I took the beating, and crossed the finish line with flair and a smile.  More on this in the details...

This race is basically 4 climbs.  There is nothing flat, anywhere.  You will hike.  There might be some people that don't hike, but I have no evidence of that.  The website says "Take the Leadville 100, remove all the easy parts, throw in technical descents", which is pretty fair.  Technically, there's not a lot of slickrock, root jumps, or sand.  The most difficult parts are steep fields of loose, fist-sized rocks.

The race has a cutoff of 8 hours.  "Wait," says the logical part of you, "That's only averaging..."

*whips out calculator*

*realizes calculators don't exist anymore*

*realizes what was actually whipped out*

*feels shame*

*feels pride*

*opens app*

"...6.25 miles per hour!  I ride that fast!".  Turns out, it's a pretty calculated cutoff.  With the 8000 feet of climbing (and hiking), you gotta work to make 6mph.  Ok, enough of that, let's get to this.

Play-by-Play

The Start

Oof

Ok, you've all probably heard about the start.  Cue the first sign that the course is here to abuse you.  You start at the bottom of a 45 degree sledding hill, covered with grass and large loose rocks, standing beside your ride, awaiting the start gun.  It goes, and it's chaos to the top of hill.  Luckily in my wave, people were all pretty chill, but fast-hiking to the top of this hill with a mountain bike gets you anaerobic immediately.  The first wave was crazy to watch, because of course they offer a special prize to the first person to the top of the hill.  I can't imagine sprinting up that with a bike, and still getting on your bike and riding.  From here, on to dusty double-track (/wide single track).  It took a minute to get really moving, and then I was inhaling dirt and trying to keep from hitting those around me.  But this was short lived, a quick drop to the road, and begin the first climb.

The First Summit

Smooth enough to take out my phone and take a picture while riding

No breaks the first 10 miles.  It's mostly not steep (averages 5%, but the last 2 miles are over 8%), and part of me thinks if I didn't have the crowd around me I would have stood a chance at riding the whole thing.  But, it was hike-a-palooza for the last quarter mile at least.  The first part winds through forested road, a few technical spots but mostly hard-packed and smooth.  Once you bust out in to the open, the grade picks up, and I encountered a couple water crossings and a couple short sections that caused me to jump off and hike to the next "flat".  I have to say, the 2nd half of this climb was probably the most beautiful part of the ride.  It's about 10 miles of wide trail/jeep trail until you take the sharp left on to the full on dirt road that is Route 2.

Courtesy of the official photographers.  They actually got some good ones

You will cruise down Route 2, but do be cautious of potential rutted out sections.  I am *not* a great descender, and people were flying by me down here, and I actually used my breaks a couple times.  It's about the nicest road you'll find on the ride, but I still don't want to lose my tire in some loose crap and endo myself out of the ride this early.  Hit the pavement (woooo) and enjoy the smooth ride to aid station #1, Printer Boy.  My Dad met me just before the actual aid station, swapped my bottle and gave me a clif bar.  I pocketed it, and pressed on, skipping the actual aid station.  I was 1:43 to Printer Boy, but felt good so I continued on.

After the aid, you drop onto a short descent through the trees, with some huge ruts (like, my pedals would've been hitting the wall if I dropped in) and probably the loosest dirt on the course.  Also, the first place I saw (well, heard) someone crash.  The shout of "GOD DAMN IT" from around the corner encouraged me to slow it down a little bit.  By the time I got there he was back up and just starting to go, so no harm.

The Second Summit and the Turnaround

On to the 2nd time hitting 12000 feet!  Altogether it's about 5 miles until you hit the top, but this one isn't quite as insistent as the first.  There are a couple short descents mixed in, including one of the most technical, though quite short.  After you get through a majority of the climb (pretty standard), you hit a turn where the people on the return trip split off.  This is actually the first place I encountered someone coming back.  I'm pretty sure I yelled some words of encouragement, and thought to myself holy sh*t that's a long way away.  The quick descent here actually has some drops and roots to deal with, and then... duathlon time!  I don't actually know how long the final climb to the top is, but it's mostly a hike.  And you can see the summit up there the whole time... come to me, summit!

Once the summit actually DOES come to you... prepare for the hardest section of downhill on the course.  I heard they used to have 2-way traffic on it, but luckily the re-designed and the people coming back to this summit do so from a different path.  Which is great, because this was sketchy enough having it all to myself.  By this point, traffic had mostly thinned enough that I could navigate it myself.  Right at the start though, the guy ahead of me was trying to cowboy his way down with a foot off, and ended up flipping over his bars.  This was the one place I actually stopped myself on a downhill.  I let him sort himself out, walked my bike over a drop, said a little prayer, and let it fly.  The first couple hundred feet are very steep, and (as I said) have a couple little drops.  After that, it's in to the rocks.  Fields of rocks, with no real good line.  My only approach was let go of the brakes and let the bike do the work (which apparently worked!)

Finally, desperate for a break from this descent, I hit Stump Town at about 3:19 in to my day.  Oh wait, no, they can't let you do that.  Right when you think you're there, here's a tiny but very steep section I was wholly unprepared for, and another f*king hike opportunity to get off my bike and walk for a minute.

Side note time: The volunteers at the aid station were amazing!!  Thank you!  A kid came up and grabbed my bike, held it while I got food (pointed out the good stuff, of course) and hit the restroom, joked with me while I complained about having to ride it all over again... 

Third Summit and Back to Printer Boy

I was surprised how good I felt getting back on and beginning the climb back to the pass.  The short break at the turnaround really helped.  I found myself passing people up the wide road out of Stump Town.  Of course, after a couple miles of that pleasant road, it was back on the rutty Jeep road, and back on my feet.  After a short hike, we hit the one singletrack section on the whole race.  And boy, was it sketchy.  (Note: this is largely because I'm a singletrack wuss).  It went around the peak, across a sharp slope.  I couldn't help but notice how far I'd tumble if I went off the thin trail.  Short enough though, I survived.  After coming around, you hit the same summit and meet the people coming up.  There were still a few trudging along as I started down the slope, but it was pretty thin by that time.  Then - guess what?? - MOAR HIKING.  This little hike led to the one place I actually let myself stop and enjoy the surroundings long enough to take a picture.  You could see forever!

From the top of somewhere

From here, a quick descent, navigating some more giant ruts.  And then a grind back to Printer Boy.  By this point in the day, it had become all mind over matter.  I was able to keep the legs going around, knowing I was on the final stretch.  This was all navigable, and there was no hiking!  I made it back to the aid station at 5:03, and was finally feeling optimistic about my finish.  I met my Dad again here (and skipped the station again).  He told me my time, and I thought to myself maybe I can make it under 6:20 (this being the arbitrary time he predicted)!

Final Climb, Final Descent

However, I did not give proper credit to how much going back up Route 2 was going to suck.  I forgot how fast I came down it.  And those 3 miles felt like they were never going to end.  Also at this time, the clouds were starting to roll in, and I REALLY wanted to get down off the max elevation of the day before that happened.  Focusing on keeping the legs turning over, and ticking off every tenth of mile, I made my way through it without stopping.  Shout out time again: The volunteer at this summit was amazing, shouting words of encouragement to everyone.  He made my day.

I recommend a brief stop here to gather yourself.  I took one, because I needed to gather myself before tackling the first mile of the descent.  If there was any time I thought I was lucky for staying rubber-side down, it was here.  Steep grade, water covering smooth rock, and drops!  But I rode it all, and felt like a boss.

After getting though that first section, it was loopy and fun (and more fields of loose rocks, but those had become old hat... or my entire body was numb, I'm not sure which).  I got covered in mud going back through the water crossings, and it was absolutely a blast.  The worst part was actually the end, where it flattens out.  I really just wanted to coast to the finish line, but pedaling the last mile or 2 wasn't so bad.  I came back out on the pavement, cyclometer hit 49 miles, and I could HEAR the announcer at the finish line.  VICTORY IS MINE

JKLOL FU

Seriously the worst part of the race was being able to hear that finish line, and then coming across the volunteer pointing me back up the hill.  I am quite sure I said something to her to the affect of "you've got to be kidding me".  She was not.  You have to climb some single track before you finish! FLUGELHORN, FLUGELHORN!  The climb wasn't really bad, and it was under a mile, but mentally it was a destroyer.  I was there!  Anyways, up some track, through some trees, sarcasm for another nice volunteer.  And then I biked across the top of the hill that I had hiked up to with a couple hundred people 6 and half hours earlier, and I could SEE the finish line.  Around the hill, down the slope, and VICTORY!

Tongue out, for the people.  I got a little air off the timing strip too

Conclusion

6:37:34 chip time, in to the Orange corral for the 100, and I actually felt pretty good the next day.  As much as the Silver Rush dominated me for most of July 7th, I came through none the worse for wear, and couldn't be happier with my performance.  Oh, and about 15 minutes after I finished, the sky freaking opened up, and hailed for a solid 20+ minutes.  Booyah.  All in all,

Cycling Season 2015... It's On

With all due respect to Tour Down Under (still giggity), and the various Tour de Place-Thats-Way-Too-Hot-To-Hold-A-Reasonable-Race-Oh-And-Did-I-Mention-Sand-Storms, they really are warm up rides.  Much respect to the winners, they're still clearly 1%ers in the cycling world, but Warren Buffet and Bill Gates didn't show up.  This weekend, s*t gets real.

So Far (mainly about the Hour)
All told, there have been 40 races around the world already this year that received some level of UCI ranking.  The biggest of these were the TDU, Tour de San Luis, Dubai, Qatar, Oman, probably Sun Tour and Volto ao Algarve.  Rohan Dennis took the TDU, right before getting on the track and posting an impressive new distance for the Hour record (52.491 km).  Seriously, he averaged over 32 mph for an entire hour.  I go 32 mph if I have a nice downhill, before I have to break for a corner.  This is sure to be challenged a few times this year, as the Jensie sparked an Hour frenzy.  A Jensie Frenzy.  Sir Wiggo is expected to take a shot in June, and I wouldn't be surprised to see him break it yet again.
Tour de San Luis was taken down by Daniel Diaz (who?), with solid showings by Nairo Quintana and Joe Dombo.  I don't put much in to the fact that they were several minutes down, they're working on finding their form before the Grand Tours.

Upcoming
Two big races start this weekend, the young-but-fresh Strade Bianche in Italy, and the biggest early test on the calendar, Paris-Nice.  Though Strade Bianche hasn't been around, the single-day race has become a proving ground for the Classics riders.  Fabian Cancellara will be present, along with Peter Sagan and a host of classics specialists.  It's a 200km route, with a lot of dirt.  And props for the organizers for putting in a women's race this year, too.  The women of the sport have so few big stages on which to perform, I hope it garners them the attention they deserve.  My money is on Sagan, even though Fabian aka Spartacus aka Mr Classic is present.  I expect him to peak for Milan-San Remo or Paris-Roubaix.
Paris-Nice is definitely the jewel of first quarter of the year.  In it's 73rd edition, the 7-stage race (8 counting the prologue) will really test the legs, and give us good insight to how the offseason went for these guys.  Michael Kwiatkowski, Richie Porte, Andrew Talanksy, Bradley Wiggins and Tejay VanGarderen are all expected to compete.  Richie Porte should be the team lead for Sky, with Wiggo looking ahead (Paris-Roubaix may be a goal this year).  Stage 4 should set the tone, with over 200km and 8 categorized climbs, ending at the top of the worst one.

Ouch

I don't really have a good enough feel for the all-rounders yet to wager a bet, but I'm going to be watching Talansky and Tejay closely.  It would be great to see one of them up on the Giro or TdF podium this year, and this will be a good test.

Following right on the heals of those 2 is the Tirenno-Adriatico, which periodically gives us some spectacular viewing by torturing the riders with blizzards.  A lot of the top riders are choosing this over Paris-Nice, including Alberto Contador, Vincenzo Nibali, and Chris Froome among others.  Still, some of these big contenders might take it a bit easy, but it's exciting to see them all on the same course in March.  And I'm perfectly ok having them split between the 2 races right now, because it allows me to still speculate and get excited for them all being together in a HUGE race later in the year.

Dear USAPCC

I don't want this to get too awkward or anything, but I love you, USAPCC/USPCC/USAPC/Totally not the Tour of Colorado.  Last year, I sang your praises and the race turned out to be the most exciting yet.  The TT on the penultimate stage left it wide open, while the course design allowed for maximum fan viewing.  Bravo.

And this year, I believe you've done it again.  A circuit race on the first day in the beautiful and bike-crazy town of Steamboat Spring is going to be a riot.  Adding in a finish in A-Basin was a brilliant way to find another uphill finish (if not summit) without being too far from anything.  I've ridden that section from Keystone to A-Basin a lot, and while not terrible, it's a grind and should create some separation.  Of course, that's after coming all the way from Steamboat which I can only imagine will start over Rabbit Ears (going the other route would involve Vail Pass which isn't real suitable for a race).

Stage 3 is Copper to Aspen, and if it's the expected route we'll hit Fremont Pass straightaway and then work in Indy Pass again (I'm hoping it's that, because I did that exact route a couple years ago).  Then Aspen back to Breck, which keeps making for some great finishes.  The real shakeup this year is the Breck TT on Friday.  I, for one, have no problem with occasionally switching out the Vail TT.  Especially when they've worked Independence back in to the mix (need a few iconic features every year!)  I don't know what the TT will involve, but I expect it to be less climbing than the Vail TT, which could potentially open the door for a wider range of riders to make a mark.

Then, it's Loveland to FoCo, which means any of a number of the terrible climbs up here in the foothills (terrible for them, good for us).  It brings the race to the Front Range for the weekend which is vital.  And then finally Golden to Denver.  Which means another trip up Lookout, which I applaud for being both iconic and leaving the KOM up for grabs until the last day.  It's important to still have that to watch, when you know the overall will be decided by the previous day.  Another thing I don't have a problem with, because I think the finish NEEDS to be in Denver, and the TT in LoDo was kind of a shrug for me.

All in all, I think they've once again worked in a great mix of challenging climbs, spectator involvement, a race that will still be up in the air until stage 6 (well, probably 5, but we'll see...), and highlighting Colorado.  I know people were upset it didn't make it further south or east (sorry plains, you're not that interesting), but you can't hit everywhere every year.  I love this course, and I can't wait for the final course announcement.  USAPC, if you're bored sometime, you know, give me a call, I'll buy you a drink.  Smooches.

Parting Thoughts: You can't not whistle to The Walker.  Oh!  Here we go!