I’m constantly in need of a nemesis*.

Not content to simply compete against all comers, I have a history of turning bike racing into a grudge match; often it reduces a field of 100 to a field of two before the race has even begun. Many of you have watched over the years as my most recent nemesis, Steve “The Naked Mole Rat” Reaney, bested me in nearly every encounter, the majority being two-man breakaways. Looking back, perhaps he was less my nemesis than I was his plaything. Nevertheless, I prefer the word “nemesis.”

(Photo Credit: Steven Woo)

The key to a good nemesis is to find someone who is beatable — though not without significant dedication to the art — someone who is charismatic, someone who strongly wants to beat you as well, and someone who does things to encourage humorous blog posts.

I think the final point is most important; after all, since Reaney’s untimely retirement toward the end of August of last year, I can’t help but notice that my blogging has suffered immensely.

However, ‘cross season is well underway, and I’ve already received a few applications for the position of ‘Cross Nemesis.

Previously, I threw the proverbial, white, full-fingered glove at the feet of Keith Hillier (Marc Pro – Strava), stating that I would even consider training in order to beat him in a ‘cross race.

Since that time, Hillier has blogged about his desire to avoid such an upset, and has also made his feelings for the sport of ‘cross known.

I think my expression below makes my feelings about Keith and his ‘cross abilities known as well.

(Photo Credit: Dale Tapley)

Now, I would say that Hillier is perhaps beatable and also does enough stupid stuff in his own right, like wearing his helmet and gloves on the podium — therefore, he presents himself as a strong candidate for my nemesis position. However, thus far I’ve only managed to embarrass myself in his presence: each and every ‘cross race I’ve entered, I have crashed directly in front of Keith after getting a great start. Every time, as I flail around on the ground like a recently upended, skinsuited roly-poly, I see the brilliant neon green flash of Hillier as he passes, shaking his head, kindly avoiding my head with his front wheel, and softly uttering “Seriously? Not again, Rand” as if he’s not even breathing. A nemesis oughtn’t be embarrassed by his foe, so perhaps he’s overqualified for the job.

Next, we have Rainier Schaefer (MASH SF), who is certainly beatable (I’ve already beaten him), certainly mockable (he wears cargo shorts on podium), and charismatic (he’s one of the few ‘crossers ever to heckle me while we were both racing, in a female voice no less). He even heckles me on Flickr.

(Photo Credit: Tim Westmore)

However, most importantly, he’s kind of like the Starla Teddergreen of the men’s cycling scene: he’s cool, he’s got tattoos, the hipsters think he’s legit, and he’s fast. In other words, having him as my nemesis practically guarantees entry into the upper echelons of the alleycat racing scene (not to mention it might get me quick service at hip Mission District establishments like Benders Bar or Gestalt). He also beat me at last Saturday night’s Sierra Point ‘cross race on a single speed. In the “geared bike” race. What a stud. What a perfect nemesis.

Finally, we have Ibis Cycles’ Derek Yarra, renowned for bunnyhopping anything and everything in his path, even if it’s probably faster to dismount; rumor has it he was bunnyhopping the Barrier of Unusual Size at the Stafford Lake CX a few weeks ago.

(Photo adapted from Veronika Lenzi)

Now, Yarra presents a strong case for nemesishood for several reasons. First and foremost, he has a pirate name. Secondly, he has a blog of his own, so our nemesision is not limited to the ‘cross course but can also take place online. Third, he’s potentially beatable so long as the barriers are taller than he can bunnyhop (unfortunately, this means they’ll be taller than me). Fourth, he’s very vocal about his intentions.

Finally and most importantly, he does some seriously mockable stuff. Just before last weekend’s Sierra Point Night Race, the second race of the venerable BASP series, Derek pulled off his thermal vest to reveal the worst skinsuit faux-pas I’ve seen since Cavendish’s 3/4-length British World Championships kit.

Anyway, here’s the offending skinsuitage.

Look, guys: if your skinsuit won’t zip over your midsection, just admit you’re not the Kate Moss you once were and buy the next size up. There’s no shame in admitting you’re getting older and thicker. Hell, just tell the clothing rep. for your team that you’ve been hitting the gym if that makes you feel better. But come on, Derek, not only are you trying to squeeze into your little sister’s skinsuit, but you pulled a Category 4 number pinning job on your zipper before the most high-profile ‘cross race in the district.

Now it’s time for the readers to weigh in, because I can’t make a decision like this lightly and I can’t make it unilaterally. Who should I announce as my ‘Cross Nemesis for the remainder of the season?

Keep in mind that a declaration of nemesisdom almost guarantees that I’ll finish second to this person about eight times, which indirectly guarantees said athlete about eight victories. So really, it’s all up to you, readers. Don’t blow it.

Next time we speak, I’ll not only have selected a ‘Cross Nemesis (with careful consideration of your advice), but I’ll also probably have spent enough time scouring the new “NorCal Heckling Rulebook” and will be in a position to discuss its merits and its flaws (the biggest of which I can already tell you: it was written by “Hellyer” over at NorCalCyclingNews, who is one of the most vicious hecklers I’ve met and is, in fact, the first person to ever have sprayed beer at me in a ‘cross race).

Until then, I bid you farewell and pray that you’re enjoying a fine recovery beverage like I am right now.

*Nontrivial amounts of Awesome Points go to he or she who can immediately identify the source of the title quote.

I think it’s high time I started writing about what’s been going on this off-season. Unlike real off-season bloggers like Slonie, my typing fingers seem to be taking as much time off as my legs.

So what have I been up to?

First of all, I’ve been taking my Custom Clean Bottles* on tour and doing photoshoots that would make Bob Ross giddy. Well, giddier than usual, perhaps.

Secondly, those of you who live in the San Francisco area are aware that, at least until today, the weather has been undeniably superb. So great, in fact, that I’ve been spinning about town with my sleeves rolled all the way up to “triathlon chic” levels.

I post that picture not simply to highlight my gollumness or to prove that it’s been really warm, but also to mention that this is probably the last photograph of me in a Webcor kit that will ever be taken.

I’ll let the gravity of that statement sink in gradually. In the meantime, I’ll explain what I mean by “this is probably the last photograph of me in a Webcor kit.”

1. Cyclocross:

For the remainder of the “off-season,” I’ll be exclusively found sporting the ultra-badass, black and red kit of my CX team, Sterling Sports.

There are two things I’d like to say about the photograph above. First, that’s a picture of me and a man by the name of Eric Wohlberg; if you’re a heathen and don’t know who that is, I’ll elaborate. Eric Wohlberg has been racing bikes since before I was born. In college, I distinctly remember updating my AIM profile with statistics about this Canadian cycling legend. I used to have a poster of him in his Saturn Cycling Team kit on my wall in high school. In other words, he was my hero. Now he is my teammate, and he puts his arm awkwardly far around my shoulder! My life is complete.

The second thing I’d like to say about the photograph is that, when the heads are switched, the photograph is more or less indistinguishable.

This must be the reason why, during both ‘cross races I’ve done so far this year, I get just as many “Go Eric!” cheers as I do “Rand, you suck!” heckles. I can only hope Eric is getting exactly the same confusing spectator response. While flattering for me, I imagine it’s infuriating to my teammate.

Now, It was pointed out in a recent comment by local cyclocross specialist Krishna Dole that cyclocross fits my cycling personality perfectly.

Already, I’ve found this to be true. Take, for example, a simple comparison between two photographs readily available on Flickr, each of which was rather well-publicized shortly after it was posted.

First, the photograph of me winning the NCNCA Criterium Championship.

(Photo Credit: Etienne Fontan)

This photograph, depicting the single-most successful day of my cycling career, has 708 views today, well over a month after it was posted. Contrast that with the following photograph, which depicts me (and/or Eric Wohlberg) snatching a dollar bill from the neon green “mankini” of an on-course heckler, Jono Coulter.

(Photo Credit: Jenny Oh)

This photograph has 1,025 views after only thirteen days. Apparently, doing stupid shit is more popular on the internet than winning — who’da thunk?

Anyway, Krishna is right. Cyclocross is my kind of scene. Heckling — something I’ve been trying to encourage in the crit racing scene — is mainstream and acceptable at ‘cross races, beer drinking is a must (both after and during races), technical skills are paramount, and making a fool of one’s self is the best way to get attention. I’m in.

Apparently so are the hecklers. I was only recently made aware that there’s an “Official Heckle Rand Miller Group” on Facebook, and I’d encourage anyone who enjoys insulting me to join this group immediately.

Join the group now, so you can coordinate with fellow hecklers for this Sunday’s Stafford Lake CX race.

Held in nearby Novato, and promoted by local dirt-cycling aficionado Murphy Mack, this race is sure to be a perfect combination of bike racing and beer. I hope to see you there.

Now, before I move on from discussing the spectacle of ‘cross, I would like to pose a question. Where in the hell did Keith Hillier (Marc Pro – Strava) come from?

Keith is one of those local guys who I love racing with on the road because he’s easily intimidated and is usually pretty easy to beat. However, he’s hit ‘cross season absolutely flying and appears to be getting faster in each event he enters. He’s technically flawless and apparently can average 208bpm for an entire one hour ‘cross race. I think Keith has finished on the podium of every race he’s entered thus far, and has been privy to watching me crash right in front of him several times. My new ‘cross season goal: beat Keith Hillier in a race. I’d even be willing to train for it…and that’s saying something. Well done, Keith.

2. Moving Up in the World

As I’m sure you’ve guessed by now, I’m switching teams for next season, just in time for my custom Clean Bottles to be the wrong colors. Very astute internet stalkers should be able to figure out which team I am going to, but as of this morning I’m not sure whether I am allowed to publicly announce my signing.

Stay tuned for a full announcement. It should be coming soon; it should be entertaining; it will be unbelievable.

For now, I’m gonna eat some dinner and get some sleep. I hope to see many of you this weekend at the Stafford Lake CX race!

*By the way, Clean Bottle has opened up their printing presses to the public, so if you are interested in creating your own custom bottles, check it out:

Additionally, in case you were wondering what your awesome shipment of 200 custom Clean Bottles will look like in your house, here you go.

I don’t really have room for 300 cubic feet of custom bottle in my rather small apartment, and I’m tired of my housemates making fun of me for having a cartoon logo, so I’m going to show up to all of the upcoming races with a bunch of these bottles. If you read this blog and enjoy it, come up and say hi to me at the next race; I don’t care if I’ve never met you before, I promise I’ll be friendly and you’ll get a pretty sweet bottle, too!

First and foremost, I know I haven’t posted enough. Having started ‘cross season last weekend at the CCCX #4 at Manzanita park, I really have no “lack of material” excuses. Hopefully after today’s Bay Area SuperPrestige race at Candlestick Park, I’ll start writing again.

As if to motivate me to get back into the game, I arrived home late last night to find a box outside my door with the following hastily scribbled on the side in Sharpie.

Inside this nondescript box was exactly that: the first custom Clean Bottles EVER!!!.

These are the first green/yellow Clean Bottles the world has ever seen and, even better, they are emblazoned with a cartoon caricature of me on a bike riding next to my blog URL!

If you recall, my long term sponsor Clean Bottle — maker of the world’s first water bottle that unscrews at both ends for ease of cleaning — has been collaborating with internet cartoon artist and CX Comicbook extraordinaire Lee “Slonie” Slone to generate these custom bottles and I am extremely grateful to both of them for their work.

It all began as a notebook sketch by Lee shortly after he found my blog.

Now, ten months later, it’s been digitized and turned into “merch” for my blog! My blog has “MERCH!”

Now, as Dr. Malcom said emphatically in Jurassic Park, “…before you even knew what you had, you patented it, and you packaged it, and you slapped it on a plastic lunchbox, and now [slams hand down on table] you’re selling it!”

I suppose to avoid being ripped in half by a T-rex while on the porta potty as a consequence of my transgressions, I will avoid that last part about “selling.” That’s right, pretty soon, I’ll be distributing these bottles free of charge; in fact, you may end up getting one even if you don’t want it!

As of right now, I have only four of my custom Counterattacking Reality Clean Bottles; the first one goes to Slonie because he designed the whole thing, the second one goes to my friend Yukie because she requested it mere minutes after she heard the idea, and the third one is for me so that I have a nondescript place to hide my my adult “recovery beverages.” The fourth one may or may not be spoken for already. However, according to Clean Bottle, there is an entire case of 200 bottles en route!

If you want one, let me know!

Now if I can just get him to make a custom Counterattacking Reality Bottle Boy outfit to wear at the Tour de France…that would launch the blog to new heights!

See y’all at the Bay Area SuperPrestige ‘cross race in a few hours! I’ll be racing at 1:30pm, so come heckle me!

The road season is over.

As you undoubtedly know by now, I spent the entirety of the 2011 road season trying with all my might to win, only to fall short more often than not; therefore, it is with some irony that I managed to win this past week without so much as touching a bike.

This is a perfect time to remind everyone that the NCNCA P/1/2 Points Series standings mean next to nothing at all, but the bottom line is that I won this pointless points series. My mom is probably proud of me, and that’s what really matters in life.

Never mind that Justin Rossi (Marc Pro – Strava) has more than double the number of wins that I do*; never mind that Steve Reaney (Cal Giant) beat me in every single head-to-head battle we entered; never mind that Evan Huffman (Cal Giant) nearly won U23 Nationals in several events; and never mind that Eric Wohlberg (Form Fitness) has more Olympic races under his belt than I have testicles beneath mine. I guess it’s fitting that the year I “win” this competition is the first year they stop referring to it as the BAR (Best All-around Rider); I’ve certainly never been the best, particularly not in the company of the men mentioned above.

Nevertheless, It was a good year for the NCNCA as a whole, and I am proud to be associated with all the riders in it. I just hope y’all aren’t disappointed to have a joker like me take the Criterium Championship and the formerly-BAR title from more deserving riders**.

Changing gears…here’s a quick little anecdote that explains why no enterprising young man should take up cycling as a sport: apparently cyclists don’t look athletic.

I am frequently demeaned by people, mostly because I have been imploring people to heckle during crits, but also because I’m rather easily mocked. I usually let demeaning comments slide like chainlube off a duck’s back, but I was recently told by someone whose opinion I value that I “don’t look like an athlete.”

Here I am, placed on the continuum of athleticism.

(Gollum’s face adapted from Paul Doran’s Flickr)

That comment was kind of a tough pill to swallow, particularly because this person’s example of someone who does look like an athlete was Randy Bramblett (Pactimo). I guess I’m gonna have to bust out that Ed Hardy hat again. Anyway, in order to counteract my early-onset Gollumitis I’ve been looking for a way to become a more well-rounded athlete.

I first considered following the example of Alberto Contador, who has apparently been bulking up his biceps this winter by pumping up his own tires when he flats on local Sausalito group rides.

Then again, I’d have to actually ride to get flats. Best not to bother with that nonsense.

I then thought about taking a hint from my criterium racing hero and unequivocally badass rider, Rahsaan Bahati.

Forget what you’ve heard from me before; if Rahsaan Bahati runs, it’s cool now.

However, running hurts and doesn’t involve awesome technology, so doing that exclusively sounds rather lame. As I was lamenting the overall lameness of running, I saw a Velonews article about the new, totally non-UCI compliant (and girthily proud of it) 2012 Specialized Triathlon Shiv.

I respect triathletes for…well…just about nothing, but I do love it that their governing body doesn’t give a rodent of unusual size‘s ass about 3:1 ratios. I can’t wait until investors buy into my aero Bento Box idea. Anyway, this article reminded me of a universal truism: triathlete girls are pretty much always hot and athletic looking.

If triathlete chicks can look universally hot and physically fit, why can’t I?

Speaking of hot, that’s when I realized I had a hot piece of a…luminum sitting right in my living room.

Suddenly it became clear: I’m going to attain peak athletic form through a completely contrived combination of running, jumping, bike riding, mud obstacle course navigating, bike lifting and recovery beverage drinking!

(Photo Credit: Podium Insight)

That’s right, I’ve decided that cyclocross is the key to becoming a true, well-balanced athlete***. I am so stoked. Krishna Dole, Josh Snead, and Sven f*&king Nys had better bolt their shit down, ’cause I’m ready to race cross. My season debut is going to be in two weeks, and then I should be at each of the Bay Area SuperPrestige events; warm up your heckling voice now.

See you soon, at a mud pit near you!

*He also has more 2nd places than I do, which is…an impressive amount of losing. Cheers, Justin!

**I’d also like to congratulate my Webcor/Alto Velo fraternal twin, Mary Maroon, for winning the W/1/2/3 standings! I’m pretty sure she’s faster than I am, so I’d like to award her the P/1/2 title as well, if that’s possible.

***That, and I’m gonna start doing a shit-ton of pushups and crunches. And I’m cutting my ridiculous hair. I bet I’ll look more like an athlete then.

The best way to start this post is with a few quotes from some legendary bike racers, spoken mere minutes after the finish of the 2011 NCNCA Criterium Championships.

“I have to say, Rand, I don’t like your hairstyles, but I like the way you race. Congratulations on the win.”
- Eric Wohlberg

“Well, since there are no podium girls…would you like me to give you kisses instead?”
- Ivan Dominguez

They say a picture is worth a thousand words so — in spite of my inexorable desire to write at length — I’ll shut up for a brief moment and let the imagery speak for itself.

(Photo Credit: Etienne Fontan)

The smile itself speaks volumes. It’s the smile of a guy making his dream a reality. It’s also the smile of a man thankful to everyone who supported him in doing so.

And now, for the thousands of words. I can’t help myself.

Last Sunday afternoon, I overcame an entire season of near-misses, implosions, botchings, and f*&kups and finally won a race that people care about: the 2011 Northern California/Nevada Criterium Championships.

How did we get here? Last time I posted, I was busy assuring my readers that I would blow my Folsom Cyclebration Omnium lead in the final event; now, I’m posting a photograph of me — arms aloft and a smile nearly as wide as my gap to the field — winning a somewhat important bike race, at least by my standards. Two days after the fact, I’m still trying to wrap my mind around it. Let’s walk through the past two weeks together and try to figure out how this could happen, shall we?

I’ll start by saying that I did not botch the Folsom Cyclebration as most of us anticipated. In fact, I played the final day’s circuit race conservatively and intelligently — quite out of character for me — and saved my legs for a bunch sprint. Ultimately, my 6th place finish was enough to secure the Omnium and with it a sizable cash prize.

Now, I’ve heard an urban legend that once you eat human flesh, you become hopelessly addicted; naturally, I’m going to liken bike racing to cannibalism and say that my small taste of a truly lucrative victory in Folsom — even if only a cumulative one — changed the way I approached the Criterium Championship event and ultimately led to my upset victory.

The 2011 NCNCA Championship Criterium was held in downtown Oakland on one of the more demanding courses we face each year. This course is punctuated by a short climb on the front straightaway and a tight chicane on the back side, all wrapped in pavement so rough it makes the surface of the moon look smoother than Levi Leipheimer’s head.

For reasons unknown to everyone in attendance, the field was inordinately strong: Rahsaan Bahati (Pista Palace), Ivan Dominguez (“Retired,” ex-Toyota United, ex-Fuji Servetto, ex-Rock Racing), Andy Jacques-Maynes (Bissell), Roman Kilun (Kenda), Chuck Hutcheson (McGuire) and Kirk Carlsen (Garmin – Cervelo) were notable additions to the usual cadre of NorCal powerhouses.

In order to prepare myself to engage this “Ocean’s Eleven” cast of characters, I elected to undertake one of those fabled “race warmups.” Hence, I decided to enter the W/1/2/3 race*.

(Photo Credit: Alden Tanaka)

That mullet-vector is a good indication of how fast our local W/1/2/3 racers are, by the way. I pity the fool who has to race against these ladies, having now done so myself. Shortly after I was dropped from the race, Vanessa Drigo (Vanderkitten) sprinted for the W/1/2/3 Championship title — Congratulations, Vanessa!

As it turns out, it was a good thing that I warmed up during the women’s race, because the P/1/2 event started fast — according to a mid-race assessment by Rainer Schaefer (Mikes Bikes), “holy s*&t, this is fast as f*&k!”  — and it stayed that way for the entirety. It’s been said that the 2011 race was averaging three miles per hour faster than usual on the uphill finish-line straight, and it certainly felt that way.

Now, if there’s one truism in bike racing, it’s that high speeds and enormous potholes are bad news for high-end racing wheels. Sure enough, over the course of the race, I managed to crack both of my carbon wheels on some gargantuan holes in the Oakland pavement. Thankfully, Josh Geizsler (mechanic for Williams Cycling) was there for some wheel support.

(Photo Credit: Yukie Nakamura)

Thanks Josh! Usually you have to pay double for that kind of “support.”

Throughout the race, the announcer had been updating us about the status of a late-race crowd prime, which was to be contested with six laps remaining. By the time I re-entered the race from my second mechanical, at 11 laps to go, the field had dwindled to about 25 racers while the crowd prime had grown inversely to $306.

Like the metaphorical cannibal, I wanted that money; I was addicted. I wanted it badly enough to make some rather aggressive attacks and some rather contorted facial expressions:

(Photo Credit: Dale Tapley)

It was with that look on my face that I attacked at 8 laps to go. It was also with that same look that I dispatched with my breakaway companions at 6 1/2 laps remaining to claim the large sum of money alone. Bike racing cannibalism, you see? I was racing my bike for the money, riding off the front solo with six laps remaining in one of the most important criteriums of the year. It was not tactically brilliant, it was a ballsy maneuver intended to net me a large sum of money.

And then, the moment I crossed the line to take this intermediate prize…well, that was the crux of the race. That very moment was described so aptly by spectator Rome Imari Mubarak that I’ll transcribe his words directly.

“after you went for the prime…I saw that twitch and the one look back at the field pedaling in the distance..when you looked forward again, crunching down into your tiger-paw hidden dragon TT pose, I knew you were all in and going for it! ’99 southdon’t look back’ attitude!!! BigUp Rand! Major Motion Cycling thanks you for putting on a great performance!!”

He’s absolutely right. I saw that the field was hesitating, that I had a several second gap still, and I knew that I really wanted to win the championship title — more than I had wanted that $306 just a few seconds before — even if it meant I had to ride the next six laps alone with a star-studded field in hot pursuit. 95% of the time, this is the entirely wrong way to win a bike race, and I’ve got the 2nd Place race resume to prove it. However, the stars aligned: my legs were primed, the heckling was sublime, and somewhere inside, I knew it was time to really go for it. Look at the perverse, shit-eating grin on my face as I fully commit to an ill-advised attempt at a solo win from WAY TOO FAR OUT:

(Photo Credit: Etienne Fontan)

Why am I smiling? It’s possible I have several screws loose. It’s also possible that I’m smiling because everything was perfect in that moment: my legs felt fast in spite of the pain, I love a good late-race breakaway, I love a cheering crowd, and I love a technical race course. I had nothing left to lose — I already made $306 — and I had everything to gain. It was perfect, and I couldn’t contain my elation.

This is where I have to break away from my usual nonchalant, irreverent character and thank absolutely everyone who has ever supported me in a bike race: family, friends, teammates, sponsors, blog readers, photographers, and random spectators. Was I driven to win by my competitive nature? Of course…that’s why we all line up each weekend. However, more than that, I was driven to win because of the incredible support from the crowd, both those present and those who support me from afar.

(Photo Credit: Dale Tapley)

Each lap, the cheers grew louder and my resolve not to let everyone down grew stronger. I believed I could stay away, but it was a calculated, guarded hope tainted by the knowledge of how much I was hurting and by my history of faltering in the critical portions of races this year.

I didn’t falter this time.

My legs held out, the field hesitated**, and I crossed the finish line with plenty of room for my admittedly giddy victory salute. I was greeted shortly thereafter by Velopromo Rick, a co-promoter of countless races, a fixture in the NorCal scene and one of my favorite people in the world.

That photograph is an exemplar of how grateful I am for all of you who enjoy watching me race, enjoy reading the blog, and who heckle the living shit out of me as a consequence. Thank you all for a great 2011 road season!

Already, a friend of mine has taken it upon himself to design my “Big Pink” themed Championship Jersey.

(Designed by Lee Slone)

Now that’s gonna look good in all the local races next season.

And now, with ‘cross season gearing up, I implore you all to sit down with a beer or three and write out some searing, incisive, witty things to scream at me (and my fellow racers) in the upcoming cyclocross events.

See you soon!

*This isn’t technically illegal, as I only rode with the W/1/2/3s during their neutral laps from a harrowing crash involving Mary Maroon (Webcor). Get better soon, Mary!

**I heard that race favorite Bahati crashed hard in the final lap, and I’m hoping that he’s alright. Here’s to a speedy recovery!

For some godawful reason, I opted to race the Folsom Cyclebration this weekend, which involved an ITT this morning, a crit this evening, and a circuit race tomorrow afternoon.

Now, it has come to my attention that some of you doubt the validity of my claims that I prepare for races by drinking beer and eating fattening foods; in order to prove that I’m not making this up, I joined a few local standout racers in Berkeley last night. I don’t want to drop names, but those riders were Tyler Brandt (Cal Giant), Andy Goessling (Firefighters Somethingorother), Roman Kilun (Kenda PRO CYCLING), and Pat Briggs (Yahoo?). Oh yeah, and Tyler’s sister.

Thankfully, Tyler and Andy each took it upon himself to document the occasion.

There you have it: proof that I’m a POS bike racer. From two angles. I’m pretty sure that’ll turn into a 3D image if you cross your eyes or look at it in an Imax theater or something.

Sadly, I did not win the ITT in spite of my ever-nutritious hops and sausage dietary plan. I was third, one second behind Craig Roemer (Specialized) and about 20 seconds behind Justin Rossi (Marc Pro - Strava). That was just fine with me.

What position do you think I placed in the crit a few hours later?

Regardless of the outcome of that poll, the bottom line is that I’m now leading the omnium standings heading into tomorrow’s circuit race. I’m going to try as hard as I can not to blow it, so please wish me luck.

This past month, I’ve been completely stricken with a disease: cyclocross fever. Sure, Last year I made a brief foray into the absurdity that envelops cyclocross, but this year it’s going to be a much larger part of my life. Thanks to Matt McNamara and Sterling Sports, I’m going to be racing a full season of ‘cross, and words cannot describe how stoked I am. I’m like, surfer dude at Mavericks stoked, brah.

Allow me to share with you an example of just how excited I have become for the 2011 ‘cross season, and how my excitement has jeopardized the health, safety, and financial well-being of my friends.

Last Wednesday afternoon, I scheduled an urban road ride with my good friends Justin Fraga (a former crit donkey turned freeride MTB broseph, who quite recently uttered the line “yeah, broheim, but I bet I can rail a berm better than you” in casual conversation) and Pedro Brown (who works for the City of SF to develop better bicycle transportation and is responsible for designing one of the most absurdly technical, speed-bump-filled crit courses known to man).

My intention was to take Justin and Pedro up a short, steep, eucalyptus-shrouded climb through the hills between Twin Peaks and UCSF’s Parnassus campus, punctuated by a short diversion onto a few singletrack, switchbacked trails through the forest in the spirit of the upcoming ‘cross season.

It looked like this up there, as it almost always does.

What I did not anticipate was the following equation:

Heavy Fog + Eucalyptus Forest = Wicked Muddy Trails               (1)

Here are a few images of the mess that ensued.

Once we crested the singletrack climb, we were faced with a decision: retrace our steps through the quagmire or head down a paved bike path into unknown territory. Pedro took initiative and bombed straight down the bike path, only to find a heavy steel chain slung across its width just around a bend. In spite of a valiant attempt at a bunny hop, Pedro was stopped mid-air when his SRAM Red chainring latched onto the hurdle; as you can imagine, he was launched straight over his bars faster than Trafton with a traffic cone caught in his front wheel. Sadly, I was not rolling video for that one.

After we had all navigated the chain crossing, we veered left onto an unmarked, muddy jeep trail that led us to a hilltop water tank.

It was here that things “got real,” as the kids are saying nowadays. One other thing I hadn’t considered prior to this ride is that — for rides involving Justin or Pedro — the following holds true.

d(testosterone)/dt = cNS                                             (2)

where c is the obligatory scientific fudge factor, N is the number of brosephs present, and S is the Stupidity Quotient, which is always a positive value. Anyway, after circumnavigating the water tank, the trail terminated at the precipice of what I’ll refer to as a cliff, for lack of a better word.

Pedro, seemingly dissatisfied with the amount of abuse his body and his drivetrain had received thus far, didn’t hesitate for one moment. He simply glanced over the edge, said, “I guess this is the way down,” and prepared to huck his carbon fiber road bike over the edge of this -45° angled, mud- and grass-covered cliff with his own body as a hapless passenger. Naturally, I began to record the event on video; if a friend of yours is about to severely injure himself, you might as well get it on tape. [Ed. note: mothers and young children, I apologize for the expletives in the video.]

Now, the video is admittedly terrible, and it certainly doesn’t do justice to the severity of the wet, slippery, muddy, grassy, root-riddled grade Pedro is descending. However, in spite of the poor quality of the visuals, the color commentary by Justin and I is what really drives the video. Additionally, the following exchange at the very end is priceless:

Pedro: [distantly, as he's about 200 ft below us] “You guys comin’?”

Justin: [resigned] OK, f*&k this. [Rustling as Justin moves his bike into position.]

Me: [incredulous] “You gotta be kidding me…”

Justin: “Well, he did it!”

And that is how I found myself doing the stupidest thing I’ve ever done on a bike, all in the name of manhood and the impending CX season. It was a terrifying, brakeless, control-less ride with one good head-over-heels tumble. I made it down alive and relatively unscathed, with only a few chainring cuts on my leg to show for it. Justin completed the descent with only a large laceration on his palm.

Pedro was not in such good shape.

In the end, it was all worth it…to me, at least. I’m not the one with a second kneecap, a broken chain, a broken derailleur, and a broken frame. However, it was his idea so I don’t even feel bad.

I would like to point out that Pedro — the mastermind of this endeavor — is the guy whose job it is to design San Francisco’s bike routes. Bike commuters beware!

Suffice to say, my lust for riding through mud and crashing on bikes that resemble road bikes was only heightened by this ride, and I can’t wait for my CX season to begin.

Too bad I have this pesky circuit race to attend tomorrow. See y’all roadies there! Does anyone want to start betting on how I’m going to lose the omnium lead?

It’s time to get back to the basics. I’ve spent far too long this past month worrying about things that had nothing to do with what I do best*, nor what I should be worrying about: blogging.

I have a fun story to write about from this afternoon. It’s possible I’ll post it this evening, but I make no guarantees. Suffice to say, it involves road bikes, thick mud, blood and bravado. As I look forward to returning to the world of vigorous blogging, so should you look forward to the upcoming adventurous post.

However, in the interim, here is a new “race report” that I threw together this evening as a requirement for my team. It’s wordy, likely peppered with grammatical errors and typos, and somewhat redundant for those of you who read this blog frequently. Whatever. It’s a post. Like many a second place finish, I’ll take what I can get.

See you all soon (on the internet)!

———————–

Subject: Rand’s 2011 P/1/2 Race Reports. Yeah, it’s quite plural.

Alto Velo,

It is with great embarrassment that I finally get around to posting to this list. You see, I’m about thirty-five races behind in my race-reporting duties; in order to get me to write, my team manager Billy Crane has become quite persuasive. He’s been withholding reimbursement money.

Why have I been slacking? Well, in two words: the internet and girls. Typically not at the same time, but who’s checking?

Now, I simply cannot write all the race reports from this year, but that’s a good thing because it means I have a lot of top placings to write about. In fact, I’ve finished inside the top-five seventeen times thus far, and still five races remain in the 2011 road season.

Now, over the course of this season, I’ve become known amongst my P/1/2 competitors as “Second Place,” which is a pretty obvious nickname for people like Cadel and I. I’ve come in second six times this season, which means I’m clearly doing something wrong.

Thus, I’ve decided to take a retrospective look at each of my six second places, give a brief description of the event, and then delineate what I did wrong. I’m hoping that this will do two things: 1. help you and I race better in the future, and 2. exorcise my second place demons for eternity.

So here we go.

2nd Place #1: Cal Aggie Crit (January 29, 2011)
One Word for the F*&k-up: Misunderestimation

I showed up to the Cal Aggie Crit — held on the Land Park Crit course — with a fierce desire to de-testicl-ify my competitors. My intention was to do so by attacking with reckless abandon, tactically emasculating whatever breakaway partners I might have, and winning. It’s a simple formula. I did a really good job at the first part, and found myself off the front with Keith Hillier (Marc Pro – Strava), Evan Huffman (Cal Giant) and Adam Switters (Harley Davidson) in short order. Now, look at that list of riders. Do you see a sprinter there? I sure as hell don’t. I mean, to my knowledge, Huffman’s fastest sprint ever was the time he ran away from a group of girls at a high school dance. Hillier races about as aggressively as his baby-faced countenance implies, and is far better-suited to triathlons. Finally, Switters is skinnier than a cocaine-era Lohan forearm and the last time I saw him win a sprint, it was a Junior 15-16 race. I was pretty confident. Our four-man breakaway stayed away to the finish on this slippery, misty, mid-winter race. Heading through the final corner, I lined myself up in third wheel behind Huffman and Hilier. THAT WAS MY MISTAKE. I happily gave Switters my wheel, assuming he was no threat, and started my kick to the line already preparing my victory salute. That’s when Switters came up alongside me, glanced at me, then clicked up a gear with 50m to go and showed me the victory salute HE’D been preparing for the whole last lap. Never, ever, EVER assume things you don’t know about your competitors. You will lose just like me.

2nd Place #2: The Easter Classic Criterium (April 24, 2011)
One Word for the F*&k-up: Desperation

This race is absurd, and I love it for its absurdity. It’s held on part of the Early Bird Criterium course and consists of two hairpins and a metric shit-ton of wind. It’s like the Snelling RR for fat, slow, undertrained crit-donkeys like me. As you can imagine from a race in which you’re either cornering around a hairpin turn or dodging the square-edged curb in the gutter the entire time, this race blew apart pretty quickly. Heading into the final few laps, the lead group was pretty intense: our favorite should-be triathlete Keith Hillier (Marc Pro – Strava), Eric Wohlberg (Form Fitness p/b Hella Ex-Pro Cyclists from Canada), Steve Reaney (Cal Giant), Rainer Schaefer (Mike’s Bikes), Kirk Carlsen (Garmin – Chipotle) and me. Reaney seemed to enjoy hitting the corners as hard as he could — I think he fancies himself the second coming of Dave McCook –  which frequently formed gaps in this “breakaway.” With five laps remaining, and Reaney smugly enjoying one of the aforementioned “handling skills gaps,” I attacked the other riders in the gutter and made it across to Cal Giant’s aging but still fast-as-balls captain. I proceeded to take the hardest pulls I could possibly take, fearful that former Canadian National Champion TTist Wohlberg and former Redlands Young Rider winner Carlsen would be hot on our heels. THAT WAS MY MISTAKE. I was so desperate to ensure that we stayed away from the other big-name riders behind, I forgot that I still had to beat one of the fastest riders this district has seen in years. Heading to the line, I was straight-up screwed in any sense of the word you can imagine. In spite of my attempts to sneak around Steve in the four inches of gutter he allowed me downwind, I was beaten soundly. Would I have won had I not been so desperate and foolish with my pulls? Probably not; however, I never gave myself that chance. Idiot.

2nd Place #3: Watsonville Criterium (July 16, 2011)
One Word for the F*&k-up: Timing

The technical Watsonville Criterium is my Pebble Beach; my Wimbledon; my Daytona. I haven’t finished outside the top three at the Watsonville Crit in half a decade. It’s everything I have ever wanted in a criterium course, and I imagine the feelings I have toward this race are akin to those one feels just before he proposes. Having won the event the year before — out of a three man break consisting of Steve Reaney (Cal Giant) and his teammate Jared Barrilleaux — I was under a bit of pressure to perform. Three laps into the event, I was off the front with my teammate John Wilk, James Mattis and Steve Reaney (both Cal Giant). Shortly thereafter, Reaney and I had dispatched of our respective teammates, and the true grudge match had begun: Steve Reaney vs. Rand Miller, a pay-per-view special (for the roughly 16 spectators on course). Steve had me against the ropes almost instantly, as he had decided to attack up the small hill on the course once per lap, every lap. I was doing everything I could to hang on, but I was about to crack, and Steve knew it. I didn’t crack, I recovered, and subsequently Steve and I lapped the field twice. On the second of those lappings, I became aware that Steve was vulnerable. When I attacked, it took Reaney a moment to respond, and he was opening gaps on the two hairpin corners on course. I had him up against the ropes a bit, now, and I didn’t take full advantage. THAT WAS MY MISTAKE. Instead, I hesitated. We lapped the field again together, bestowing Reaney a few teammates with whom he could work. With one lap to go, I attacked Reaney over the hill (and far away), maintained a gap through the most technical parts of the course, and was caught with one straightaway to go. My arch nemesis beat me soundly in the ensuing drag race to the line.

2nd Place #4: Albany Criterium (July 17, 2011)
One Word for the F*&k-up: See Above

See Above. This race was almost an exact replica of the previous day. Seriously. Including the lapping-of-the-field bit and the last lap attack.

2nd Place #5: CCCX Circuit Race #infinity (July 30, 2011)
One Word for the F*&K-up: Commitment

Actually, it’s a lack of commitment. Among those who know me, it’s no secret that I am not a very good athlete. I don’t ride more than about three hours during the week, I eat food that even obese people would turn away, and I drink far more beer in one month than the entire Sierra Nevada Pro Cycling Team drank in the three or four seasons they existed. This lifestyle is all fun and games until I actually realize that I’m losing bike races because of it. THAT IS MY MISTAKE. On the day of the CCCX Circuit Race in question, this lack of commitment to the sport we all love became brutally apparent on the rugged roads of Fort Ord. Let me back up. I started the day with a HCTT up Mt. Diablo at 8am, and I was supremely proud of my effort. I climbed faster than I have in years and placed 5th, just behind true climbers like Cal Giant’s Evan Huffman and Nate Wilson, Chris Phipps (Thirsty Bear) and (of course) Nate English (Yahoo?).  I then drove down to Monterey and proceeded to launch myself hubris-long off the front on the very first lap of the nine-lap, 90-minute, hilly, windy event. With me was Metromint’s Ethan Atkins, a notable and venerable rider (assuming he doesn’t crash himself out like he did at University RR, wink wink). I drilled it. I was riding so hard, I looked behind me in one of the many headwind sections of the course to see Atkins literally foaming at the mouth. “Dude, Rand, don’t drop me. You’re gonna win this. Just don’t drop me!” he feebly exclaimed through hyperventilations. I had won the race. All I had to do was not blow it.

I blew it.

With two laps to go, my legs gave out entirely. “Implosion” doesn’t even come close to describing the event. By one lap to go, my vision began to blur, my speech began to slur, and it was all I could do to exclaim feebly, “Dude, Ethan, don’t drop me. You’re gonna win this. Just don’t drop me!” Ah, how the tables had turned. I nearly fell off my bike trying to hold Ethan’s merciful wheel as he nursed me to the finish line just ahead of the chasing pack. His victory salute looked glorious, or at least I assume it did. I don’t remember crossing the finish line. If I trained like a dedicated athlete, I think I would have won. If I passed on just a few beers here and there, I think I would have won. If I wasn’t so hopelessly addicted to Reese’s Peanut Butter cups, I might have won. Instead, I was beaten by a rider who is committed to the sport — even though he’s an overworked PhD student like me — and who deserved that win because of it.

2nd Place #6: Strawberry Crown Criterium (August 6, 2011)
One Word for the F*&k-up: Reaney

This technical downtown race, also held in Watsonville, was one of the higher-profile races on the NCNCA calendar. The field was replete with some of the more talented teams and racers in the nation, Dave Towle was announcing, and the title sponsor of the event was none other than the California Giant Strawberry Farms. Cal Giant was (understandably) fielding their A Team at this event, which meant that my arch nemesis Steve Reaney was in the hunt for the win. Midway through the race, Steve and I escaped from the field together — it was Watsonville Crit deja vu. However, our move was brought back by the tireless legs of Dan Ramsay (Full Circle), who was working for his highlight sprinter Ricardo Escuela. Neither of us was content with our efforts thus far, so with seven laps remaining Reaney and I struck out yet again; this time, our move stuck to the finish. Never before this season have my legs felt so effortlessly amazing. Never before has my head felt so clear. I knew exactly what I had to do, and better yet, I knew I had the legs to beat Reaney in the finale. Reaney was not cornering quite as quickly as I was through the most technical part of the course, and I knew I could use that to my advantage. Heading into this technical chicane on the final lap, Reaney looked behind him to judge our gap over the hard-charging field; I timed my attack to perfection. Just as he turned his head back, I sprinted as hard as I could toward the oncoming right-left-left corner combination. I earned a sliver of a gap for my efforts and cornering bravado, but I thought it might be enough for the upset victory. Alas, even with a several bike-length advantage coming out of the final corner at about 200m, Reaney powered by me and took the win. Again. What was my mistake? Being a Category 1 cyclist in the NCNCA during the Steve Reaney era. THAT WAS MY MISTAKE. I did everything right, and I’m still not good enough to win. I can take solace in knowing that I was close, I suppose, but that’s little consolation.

And so, my season is near a close, and my race resume is overwhelmed by underwhelming performances. In all likelihood, I’ll get yet another second place before the season is out, and I’ll upload a brief addendum to this tome accordingly.

Until then, I raise a bottle of IPA to you, Alto Velo and all our sponsors: Thank you for reading, thank you for supporting me (and my P/1/2 compatriots), and please heckle me in the upcoming races.

Rand

*That’s a sad commentary.

BEER. It’s what’s for dinner.

[Cue Hoedown by Aaron Copland]

Beautiful, no? Plenty of room for cheese.

Now, there’s an acronym that’s quite in vogue with the youngsters these days: HTFU. For the sake of my blog-reading mother — and other techno-savvy mothers around the internet — I won’t actually define the term; most of you probably know what it means already.

The term applies to bike racing, of course, but even more so, it applies to blogging. I just need to HTFU and write some blog posts — life’s simply not hard enough to merit blog negligence.

Where to begin? Frankly, I can’t be bothered to look where I left off. Instead, I’ll just throw out some random anecdotes from the University Road Race a few weeks ago and hope you enjoy them.

The University Road Race is like the insecure, overcompensatory little brother of the Nevada City Classic: it’s definitely not as cool, but it’s twice as big and twice as obnoxious to make up for it. No one likes it.

Having already gotten my ass kicked by the older brother, I should have known better than to mess with the younger; alas, I made the pre-dawn, foggy, misty drive to Santa Cruz anyway, and in record time. Having somehow safely navigated the twisting, damp, slippery Highway 17 in a stupor, I found myself sitting in the race venue parking lot before registration had even opened. Not surprisingly, Chris Phipps (Thirsty Bear) was already kitted up and was doing laps of the registration tents for a warmup, resplendent in his compression tights.

Any grogginess remaining from the previous night’s fitful sleep was quickly eradicated by the bellowing, incredibly well-projected voice of the timeless Velopromo fixture, Rick. It’s like he’s got a megaphone hidden somewhere behind that immaculate beard or something.

(Photo Credit: Sheri Greenspan)

“RAND! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” he implored in what I assume is the same tone of voice used by God during his ‘burning bush’ ventriloquism acts. “I THOUGHT YOU WERE NO GOOD AT CLIMBING! YOU DO KNOW THERE ARE A FEW CLIMBS ON THIS COURSE, RIGHT?”

Yes, Rick, I know. This was a mistake, and I’m only now awake enough to realize that.

“WELL, I’ll BE OUT THERE CHEERING FOR YOU!” he said, jovially concluding the conversation. I wish he hadn’t said that, because I hate letting people down.

Just before the race, as I was warming up my lungs by shouting insults at the young up-and-coming cyclists like Evan Huffman, Christ Stastny (both Cal Giant), and Cody Tapley (Whole Athlete), I noticed one of the most abominable number pinning jobs I’ve seen since that random T-shirt-wearing dude in my first Cat 5 criterium.

That number belongs to Nick Newcomb (Whole Athlete), and it proves that USACycling needs to revamp the Category 2 upgrade point requirements to include a “don’t pin your number like a dummy” component. Judging by the hastily rubbed-off numbers Sharpied on his calves, I imagine Nick had actually pinned that number to the front of his helmet before he realized he wasn’t at a f*&king triathlon. Kids these days…

So, yeah, the race started.

(Photo Credit: Tim Westmore)

Suffice to say, I only made it through seven of twenty laps of the miserable course before I realized I had way better things to do with my Sunday, like…NOT vomit on myself. In the meantime, Evan Huffman and the aptly French-named Jared Barrilleaux (also Cal Giant) made an off-the-front ménage à trois with Justin Rossi (Marc Pro – Strava); for the second consecutive race, Huffman came out on top. Huffman is really making it difficult for me to steal the NCNCA BAR “competition,” so I’ve resorted to some interesting tactics to defeat him.

Namely, I made him kiss a girl right before a bike race. If I can find the time, I’ll tell you all about it later in the week.

Goodnight!

It’s been a while since I wrote, and for that I apologize. This evening, I’m going to shamelessly recycle some content that I posted to the Alto Velo club mailing list last night. I’m not only trying to maintain my readership, but I’m trying to get rid of my arch nemesis’ aero advantage, so cut me some slack. Barring any more drama in real life in need of counterattacking, the real blogging ought to resume this weekend.

In the interim, here’s last night’s mailing list post in its entirety:

Would you like to win a shit-ton of races? Would you like to guarantee that you’ll be faster than me no matter how fit I am? Here’s how you can do it without even having to train:

You can buy some lightly used equipment from local superstar, NCNCA P/1/2 BAR leader and deep-dish wheel connoisseur Steve Reaney (Cal Giant).

Steve asked me to forward this list of equipment to the AV list. He is selling some awesome stuff at totally reasonable prices. Be wary, though. He’s pretty heavy, so “lightly used” might be misleading. Just kidding.

Here’s what he’s selling:

—————————————————————————————————

Hi all,
Below you will find some very fast items that I am selling.  I am cleaning out and making room.  I will post these on craigslist/ebay next week so you have the weekend to think about it…  I provided my email address below.  Please email me if you are interested in any items.

best,
steve reaney
stevereaney@…

Rear Zipp Sub-9 Disc Tubular 700C Shimano Compatible (2010)  – $1100

Rear tubular Zipp sub-9 disc that is lightly used.  It has been used for a handful of time trials.  Includes Veloflex Record  tire = fast.  SRAM Force cassette and skewers.  There are a few superficial dents on the wheel, but other than that it is in perfect condition.

Rear Zipp Sub-9 Disc Tubular 700C Shimano Compatible (2011)  – $1500

Never used, never glued.  Perfect.  I will throw in a veloflex record tire.

Front Zipp 1080 Tubular 700C (2010)  – $750

Front tubular Zipp 1080 that is lightly used.  It has been used for a handful of time trials.  Includes Veloflex Record  tire = fast.  Perfect condition and skewers included.

Rear Zipp 1080 Tubular 700C Shimano Compatible (2010)  – $850

Rear tubular Zipp 1080 that is lightly used.  Includes Vittoria tire and SRAM Force cassette.  Perfect condition and skewers included.

2011 Zipp 404 Carbon Clincher 700C Shimano Compatible. – $1700

A set of lightly used carbon clinchers.  Excellent condition and includes skewers and SRAM Red cassette.

2010 Specialized Medium S-Works Transition Module with bars and Red/Force Group – $2500

S-Works frame, fork, seatpost, seat, brakes and cranks.  FSA TT chainrings, Easton attack TT bar and stem.  SRAM carbon brake levers, Force derailleurs and Red shifters.  All in very good condition.  Red/white/carbon color.  You could literally throw your wheels and pedals on it and ride it home!  If you want more details you can search the Specialized website.  They have a great archive.

2009 Specialized Large Pro Transition – $1200

Pro frame, fork, seatpost and brakes.  Threaded BB.  In very good condition.  Gloss Red color. If you want more details you can search the Specialized website.  They have a great archive.

My Firstborn Child — $400

This kid has yet to be born, but if it gets even half of my admittedly impressive genome, it’ll have a VO2 of 97 and an infant hematocrit of 55.

———————————————————————————–

Email Steve directly for inquiries. Tell him “Rand thinks you suck” as your email signature, please.

Rand

Seriously. Buy this shit so that Steve can’t beat me quite so easily the next time we end up off the front together. Please.

Upon first glance, it probably isn’t surprising that I would be near the top of the leaderboard for a “bar competition” — after all, I do love bar games. However, this isn’t about darts and beer. I’m talking about the NCNCA Best All-around Rider (BAR) competition, and the fact that I’m remotely in contention is ludicrous.

If anything, it proves that the BAR is a flawed metric of cycling talent. Still…a competition with an irrelevant scale of merit is a competition nonetheless, so I’m left with no choice but to compete.

It is for that very reason that I chose to register (and actually show up) for the Mt. Diablo Hill Climb Time Trial last weekend.

Always the pragmatist, I spent most of that evening hydrating with several Lagunitas recovery beverages. Exactly four hours prior to my slated start time (in other words, at exactly 4:11 am), I meticulously consumed my pre-race meal: a sausage-infused deep dish pizza from Little Star Pizza.

Safe in the knowledge that my pre-race hydration and nutrition needs had been met, I fell headlong into my bed and amassed a total of 97 minutes of sleep.

One large coffee and an Odwalla Orange Juice was all that was necessary to complete my stringent race preparation — I rapidly consumed this acidity-laden, liquid fuel as I rocketed through the Highway 24 tunnel like my pre-race meal through my colon.

Now, it’s my firm belief that HCTTs attract the dorkiest possible cycling demographic, which I highlighted last year at this very same event. This year, local climber extraordinaire Chris Phipps (Thirsty Bear Cycling) was kind enough to epitomize this demographic by wearing a matryoshka doll of fredliness on his legs: compression tights beneath knee warmers beneath bibs beneath cargo shorts.

(Photo Credit: Chris Lyman)

Holy God. If Steve Urkel was a cyclist, even he’d be like, “[nasal voice] Even I wouldn’t do THAAAT” and he’d morph into Stephan Urquelle and steal everyone’s female companions*. Phipps, you gotta stop that nonsense; you’re making us all look bad.

The devil’s advocate in me must pose the obvious question: did Phipps run a faster time than me in the subsequent HCTT? Yes, he did, but only by 33 seconds. Is a 33 second time gap over the district’s least devoted climber — in a “race of climbing truth” — worth four layers of fredliness? I’ll let y’all decide.

Just before I rolled to the start line, my 30-second man — top-notch time-trialist and typically grouchy old man, Kevin Metcalfe (Specialized Masters) — rode by me and said, “Hey, Rand, if you can catch me you should ask me if I read your blog.” I assume he was making an allusion to my habit of asking real bike racers like Bahati and Jacques-Maynes if they read my blog during races; I also assume he thought there was no way I’d catch him, and I would have agreed.

As it turns out, my legs felt really good and I did catch Metcalfe. When the question “do you read my blog” was posed between pained gasps, Metcalfe coolly responded, “Not anymore.” Well played, Kevin.

As if it needs saying, I was also bested by Yahoo?’s Nate English, who is arguably the best climber this district has ever seen, followed by Nate Wilson, Evan Huffman (both Cal Giant) and Phipps.

Let me back up a bit. As we were waiting for the start, I engaged eventual winner Nate English in conversation.

Me: Hey Nate. Don’t let Evan Huffman beat you today, ok? I don’t want him getting too much of an attitude.

Nate: I don’t think he has much of an attitude.

Me: Yeah, well…you should have heard him talking after he had a few beers at Stastny’s birthday party. He was talking some mad shit.

Nate: Oh. Yeah. Drinking and partying…that sounds like something that happens after my bedtime.

Ack! No. Oh, God. Just hearing that sentence took a year or so off my life; then again, I guess making sacrifices like that would have taken a year or so off my time. After all, Nate did beat me by 1:45 on the day.

Interested to find out what I was doing wrong, I decided to poll the other riders who beat me that day.

That brings me to Cal Giant’s Nate Wilson and Evan Huffman, who laid out with me on the grass while waiting for results to be posted.

Nate Wilson, who from now on shall be referred to colloquially as “The Slower Nate in the District,” mentioned casually that he “got distracted during the climb and ran off the road.” Seriously, dude? See, this is exactly why I hate climbers. In crits, if you make a mistake like that, you’re liable to lose skin and will likely take half the peloton down with you. Well, there were no repercussions for Slow Nate’s inability to roll a bicycle in a straight line, and he still beat me by about a minute. As I’ve mentioned before, Evan Huffman is a fast climber, but only at the expense of having ever talked to a girl. I don’t need to belabor that point.

I guess it should be common sense that one must make sacrifices to be good at bike racing; by now, I’m sure you can tell I just don’t care.

The one positive outcome of the whole Mt. Diablo HCTT fiasco is that my alter ego, Big Pink, has a new love interest.

This video was forwarded to me by Fremont Bank’s exemplary climber, Susannah Breen, who also doubles as Big Pink’s wingman. I just hope Big Pink is not too disappointed when a climbing enthusiast like “bykgrl” shuns the advances of a flat crit rider like him.

More blogging to come; for now, I have to get some work done. For those of you in the area, come out to the Fast and Furious Criterium in Pleasanton this evening and heckle the racers. Hope to see you there!

*Ha! As if any of these HCTTing male cyclists have female companions. HA!