Settimana Lombarda

http://www.settimanaciclisticalombarda.it/

This 4 day stage race starts tomorrow in horrific fashion... from the look of the profile tomorrow there are like 6 climbs all between 6-10km in length. I'm hoping the profile is slightly misleading and it won't be quite as hard as it looks, but either way the finish is on a mountaintop.

Test with the doc

When we left Cuveglio on Tuesday we stopped by the team doc's office in Milan for lactate tests and blood work. We were in a hurry then so he didn't go over any of the results until today when he met us at the race hotel (we're near Bergamo now), and with a straight face told me that my body fat was 3.8%. YEAH RIGHT! And better yet, he said this time of year most riders would be expected to be around 3.5%... God that's inaccurate.

I really do wanna write more to let da folks of da world know what's going on here, but I really don't. I'm tired and I want to go to talk to the friends that I miss and go to sleep. When I've been involved with bikes all day, the last thing I want to do is think about them some more. Maybe I'll be able to squeeze in another entry in the morning before I'm biked-out for the day.

First race

So I got the first race out of the way. No matter how many times I look at CyclingNews I can't remember the name of it, other than the fact that it started in the city of Carnago, Italy. Despite the fact that getting dropped from races makes me severely depressed, it was actually a pretty cool experience.

We all piled into the bus/RV after breakfast (and actually there wasn't much "piling" to do because everyone had plenty of room to lay down) and lounged all the way to the race. Once kitted up, we rolled over to sign in together which is like a mini team presentation because as soon as we were in the vicinity I hear "Team Type 1" mentioned with excitement many times over the loudspeaker. The announcer immediately started calling each of our names, expecting us to file onto the stage (where the sing in table was) as multiple old men photographers are shouting at us and physically arranging us for their photos.

Upon escaping the sign in circus we were able to squeeze in a little more down time and have a meeting in the quiet privacy of the bus before heading to the start line. I didn't have to do ANYTHING except get dressed in preparation for this race. After training each day I just give my bike to one of the mechanics, so it showed up at the race clean and ready to go. When I got on the bus that morning there were already paper bags, labeled with each of our names, full of race food. When I asked for bottles before rolling to the start, they were on my bike in 30 seconds. A team this organized makes not getting results shameful.

So we start the race and after the first lap I surprisingly find myself at the front. Before the start I wasn't even sure I was gonna be able to make it up here at all, sweet! Then someone attacks, I follow, and I'm off the front no problem... and in a race with some seriously big names! Why do people say the racing here is so hard?? So I play around up there (getting caught and then following another move, getting caught again) for about the next 20km until the pain in my legs puts my brain back in focus. Anyone can go fast at the beginning of a race, and at every single race in the US I sit back and watch those idiots that go ape shit from the gun, just waiting for them to peter out before the real racing begins. Now, in this new environment, somehow I had become one of them.

I took a moment to assess the circumstances.. In such not conditions, with two long dragging hills every 20km lap, and with 200km total distance to race, I could already tell I was probably in too deep. I had gone sooo hard in that first hour, and especially considering how hot the conditions were and the fact that we were only being fed straight water, it was going to be hard to recover. It was only just a matter of time, and after 160km completed, my body finally fell to pieces as I tried to force it over one of the hills once more.

I sulked back to the bus with a teammate who'd popped off at the same time, showered, and tried to enjoy a prosciutto and cheese sandwich all while the rest of the team continued to suffer out on the road. Only 3 of our guys ended up finishing the race, Jure got 6th, and Visconti won.

I'm still trying to shake the feeling that I may just not be good enough to finish big races in Europe, and it's hard to look forward to our next one considering it's a mountaintop finish but I'm trying. I already went to the grocery and got myself some light salt which has been my secret to surviving the heat all summer (thanks to some knowledge from Uncle Daniel Holt) so maybe I'll be a little better prepared. We'll see.

Da race

We race tomorrow (Thursday). Here's a link to the race start list I found on Cyclingnews.

http://www.cyclingnews.com/features/gp-industria-e-commercio-artigianato-carnaghese-start-list

L'hotel e un lago

I really had no idea where we were til I just looked it up, but figures that we're close to the Alps and Switzerland. Here's the google map of where our hotel is: http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Hotel+La+Bussola+2,+Cuveglio,Via+Provinciale+3&um=1&ie=UTF-8&sa=N&hl=en&tab=wl

That's our hotel. It's bigger than it looks. All meals are served here and we's eatin gooood. You can see a stupid mountain in the background.

I guess they knew Ty and I were rooming together, so they went ahead and pushed our beds together before we arrived. We always do that anyway so saved us some work. The little guy is napping right next to me this very moment as I type this.

If you zoom out on that gmap, this is the giant lake that's west of the hotel. We rode along a road that followed the rocky shore for a little while today.

In Italia

It's waaay easier for me to write when I have pictures to refer to so that's probably what I'll do.

This picture of Ty taken in the Amsterdam airport, where we caught our connection to Milan, pretty accurately describes how I was feeling at 10am local time. Blurry eyed, greasy, and in need of a big cup of coffee. I couldn't sleep at all on our flight across the Atlantic (even after downing a couple free glasses of wine) but by the time we found our way through the foreign airport I was starting to feel it.

Made our way to Milan via another, much shorter, flight and were greeted by team mechanic Antonio driving this mondo RV. Needless to say, there was plenty of room for the two of us (Ty and I) to stretch out, so I passed out immediately. Much to my dismay, when I woke up and peered out the window as we were pulling into the hotel parking lot, we were in the mountains... I didn't sign up to race in the mountains! Should be some really hard racing.

As much as I hate racing over long climbs, training on them is incredible (mostly because I can creep up them as slow as I like). On our first ride out, we basically rode up as long as we could to try and catch some sweet views, and it didn't disappoint. We wound our way about 3000 ft up on mostly single lane roads past communities and through the woods.

It's all fun and games until somebody gets hurt. Well thankfully I only ALMOST got hurt (but in spectacular fashion). These mountain roads are made up of switchbacks and blind turns, the kind most people in cars honk before rounding. As I built up some confidence leading the way down part of the descent I flew around one left hand bend to find myself face to face with some tiny euro car the all look the same to me. I had about 10ft to react, and it involved a big skid and swerve, but luckily I escaped clipping the front of the car by a couple inches.