thoughts and comments of a post-modern retro-grouch
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Resolved
I am not a fan of New Year Resolutions. If you need to change something in your life, work on changing it. Don't wait until the start of a new year to make the change. Having said that, I have largely neglected this blog for the last couple years. My goal, I won't call it a resolution, is to post something here every day and the turn of the calendar seems as good a time as ever.
What I write may be long, short, insightful or frivolous but I do intend to log something each day. I have some thoughts and ideas for doing some different things, once in a while. These may not come to fruition, but they are things I would like to work toward
As 2011 comes to a close, it might be time for one last minute look back at the ProTour team photos that were on the UCI website.
First, I wish to publically shame Garmin, Katusha, Leopard and RadioShack for refusing to submit a tean photo. SHAME!!!
This year's photos were rather standard fare. Nothing outrageous. The one trend that, mercilessly, seemed to fade away was the extreme overhead shot.
I'll start this years review with Omega Pharma-Lotto and BMC. Both teams were similar with rather formal and symmetrical team lineups in front of a building.
Look at the size difference of some riders on Omega Pharma. In the first standing row, the 3rd man from the left is a tiny little fellow. While the man on the far right looks like a dumpy Cat 4 racer.
Also, most teams tend to show off their national champions. However, Omega Pharma seemed somewhat ashamed of their Finnish champion. I believe they looked at a map of Europe and saw Finland in the far upper right of the map and figured that would a good, out of the way place to stick their man.
I'm not sure what to say about BMC. Maybe it is BMC's Swiss heritage, but they are all so very precise. Like a Swiss watch.
The "stand in front of a wall" photo is a common theme with teams. There is always one or two teams each year with similar photos. For instance, Quick-Step back in 2007
And speaking of Quick Step, they followed BMC's lead by using a little water as a reflective feature. As the season wore on, you would have thought that water in that dried up fountain was as deep as the ocean in the background as Quick Step floundered around, doing very little all season.
While Quick Step had the ocean peeking into view, Ag2r was this year's obligatory oceanside photo. One or two of the French teams can always be counted on to be by the ocean. Yet, it is rarely a nice ocean view. They skies typically look overcast, dark and somewhat ominous. This year's photo is not so bad but there seems to be artificial lighting trying to brighten up the scene. Ag2r probably uses a lot of artificial lighting to try and make their performances look better than they really are. Can't they shoot something on the Cote d'Azur on a bright sunny day?
Three teams chose to do their team photo inside.
The award for the most boring team photo has to go to Astana. "Hey, all you guys in the light blue outfits. Stand in front of plain white wall and make benefit the glorious nation of Kazakhstan"
The second most boring photo goes to Liquigas. It's all perfectly fine, but I expect more from an Italian team than a boring background and some photoshopped stripes to add some flair.
Movistar looks like they are lounging around in their team kits at upscale movie theater with its long red velvet curtains. Rather ridiculous but I can appreciate the classy venue.
The Movistar location is the type of setting that I have come to expect from Liquigas, instead of a white and gray wall. Take the 2009 Liquigas photo, as an example.
Moving back outside, we start with Saxo Bank. While the ocean is not seen in the photo, it is obvious that Saxo is by the ocean. They seem to know what the French teams do not. Even with cloudy skies, the picture still seems brighter and cheerier than Ag2r.
Saxo must have had my old team do the clothing order. I don't know how else to explain not yet having their team kits on time.
Two teams didn't seem to put much thought into their photos. HTC seemed to pick out the nearest open patch of grass and figured that was good enough. Hell, they didn't even bother to rake up all the dead leaves. I wouldn't doubt if Stapleton pulled out a point and shoot digital camera and took the camera himself.
I give them credit for showing off their national champions front and center. They had an even more prominent spot than the team's superstar, Mark Cavendish. I think that is an indication of why they worked so well together and why they were such a good team.
The Euskaltel photographer probably told the team something with an unnatural amount of K's and Z's. Something like "Zikin eskaileretan eseri eta zure argazkia hartuko dut" and this was the result.
A couple teams decided to show off their team cars. Rabobank makes a tradition of including their team car in their photos. You can tell the same photographer, Cor Vos, does their team photos each year. Compare this year to 2009. Other than having the dreaded high altitude camera angle back in '09, the traits are the same.
Lampre managed to squeeze THREE team cars into their picture. Finding the third car is a little like trying to find Waldo. Seriously, can you find all three cars in less that 5 seconds?
It's like the cars are unwanted intruders plowing through the team. I can't help but be reminded of this.
Speaking of Hoogerland, Vancsoleil takes the Most Ridiculous Photoshop Award. Cofidis was the master of using a really cheesy looking fake background but they are no longer part of the ProTour.
How bad was the background that Vacansoleil felt need to use this god awful fake blue that makes the team appear to be floating in mid air. Awful.
Finally we wrap things up with Team Sky, and their fake black background. This photo is equally ridiculous as Vacansoleil. The glow in the dark, Tron-like look is so sublimely ridiculous it is almost, I said almost, cool.
Of course, having Brad Wiggins on the team negates any possible cool factor.
Sunday's race my last race of the season... almost. Suddenly, after racing every weekend since the middle of September, I am faced with three weeks before the next race. It's a small race called US Cyclocross Nationals.
My plans were to get some really good, solid training and be in as good a form as I possibly could since I will be racing well above my level of ability. Instead, this week is turning into rest week. I haven't touched the bike.
Monday was my birthday and my body was feeling the effects of 11 hrs at Sunday's race doing course setup, racing and course tear down.
Tuesday I normally go to Spinning but the boss is on vacation and I am the one that work would call if there are problems. I thought it would be best to stay home and be near the computer. Yes, I could have ridden the trainer but I watched Bridesmaids, instead.
Tonight, I fell asleep at 7pm
Tomorrow, I have other plans. Unless I am able to sneak in a quick ride after work, it will be another off day.
Yes. Training is going VERY well.
I do want to ride. I really do. With any luck, this time off will rekindle enough motivation to take me through the next few weeks of training and get me to Nationals in good form.
This morning I woke up before the alarm. I felt very wide awake for 4am. I felt good all day. I had a productive day at work. It was a somewhat warm, sunny day.
Yet, I feel down. I am uneasy. I sense bad news. My mind is preoccupied.
Last weekend, I made the excursion to KC for the State Championships.
Leading up to the weekend, the forecast was looking more than a little grim. Rain was expected Friday night. More rain for the race on Sunday. And, after everything was good and soggy, a cold front sweeping in on Sunday.
Mother Nature did not disappoint.
I decided to race Masters, for a change of pace, on Saturday and would then decide what to race on Sunday. Saturday's race began at 11am. I looked quickly at directions to the course and thought it was no problem. Was I ever confused. The list of my screw ups is too long to mention but without good people like Cory and Patrick talking me to the course, via phone, I would have been totally screwed.
I arrived 30 minutes before my race. “Perfect” preparation for a race. I jogged to the registration, got dressed and pulled the bike out of the car while Patrick pinned my jersey. I hopped onto the course and, at the very least, checked out the muddy section around the BMX course to see what hell awaited me. Turns out it was a muddy, off-camber quagmire followed by an uphill grassy section that I was not man enough to ride up. I was only able to ride less than half a lap before getting called to the start line, but the remainder of the course couldn't have been any more hellish that that section around the BMX track.
Masters were the first race of the day. Thank goodness. While portions of the course were muddy, much were still in relatively good condition. My race was solid, if not spectacular. I finished in 7th place.
By the end of the race the bike, and it's pilot, was well covered in mud.
We left the race course and stopped at a car wash to power wash our bikes instead of hanging around to watch other races. On the way back to the hotel, the rain finally came. With every passing hour, I was more and more happy to not be racing. Sunday, however, was sure to provide plenty of "entertainment".
I awoke Sunday morning to a steady rain and a "balmy" 34 degrees. I had decided to race Masters again for the State Championship. Racing at 10am and getting home at a reasonable hour seemed more appetizing than racing at 2pm and getting home late in the evening.
Thankfully, the overnight rain finally stopped by around 8am. Frankly, I'm not sure that it mattered much. The damage to the race course was done yesterday, after we raced, and then only saturated more with the overnight rain.
Sunday's course was essentially raced in an opposite direction from Saturday but with some minor changes. What was mostly dry the day before had, at a very minimum, become much softer. And, at the worst, become unrideable or a mud bog.It was hellish race.
You were left delicately skating through turns while trying to apply power in the straights as the bike slipped and slid and wanted to do anything but go straight. With each passing lap, the bike got a little heavier as the mud and grass built up on the bike.
Our small eight man field settled into its respective placings rather quickly. From there it was all about trying to catch those in front while making sure no one was coming back from a poor start. I settled into fourth and knew that one or two ahead were from KS so I was feeling confident about getting a medal position.
After the race, I looked at the results and I had finished fourth. I was satisfied, especially since second and third were from KS. When the time came for the podium presentation, I made sure I was wearing a team jersey for any photos. They called up the winner, then they called up second place. Thats fine. And then they handed him the silver medal. What?
I didn’t have a flyer handy to see if there were any limitations to who won what prizes and I sure wasn’t going to make a scene during the podium presentation.I still don’t understand the logic of awarding medals to KS residents for a MO Championship race, especially when KS specifically states that only KS riders are eligible. Being handed a cheap medal is not a big deal. I guess we all like a little acknowledgement, though, when we feel it is deserved.
