Three weeks of silence

Not nearly as long as Bjarne Riis's fourteen years of silence.

I don't have time to go on endlessly about the sh*t going down in the pro ranks right now. Needless to say, it's a meaningful change from the years and years of secrets and lies and crime.

On the one hand, it's hard to watch my most favorite sport's most elite players cop to such disgraceful behavior. I'm not one to see the courage of fessing up. Plenty of commentators expressed pride in Millar when he came out with it. Don't forget, he came out with it all after they found the goods. It has also been said of others. I don't buy the courage bit. I am, though, a bit proud that cycling is owning up to its mistakes while so many other sports (bigger budget, bigger return American sports) continue to keep the wool pulled tightly over Americans' star-struck eyes. You gotta figure there's a seriously dark underbelly to pro football and baseball and basketball. I don't expect stars of those sports to magically and suddenly see the light. Too much cay-shhh to lose. Point being, I think there's something slightly redeeming to cycling being the whipping boy...the sport to take the hard knocks while the others continue living the lies. Just like cyclists, eh? It a painful process...these confessions and admissions. But have you ever known a cyclist to shy away from pain?

And on to my personal pain.

I've been training very, very sporadically. I'm not impressed and am eager to get back on it. This week was a marked improvement, but still nothing to write home about. Still eagerly awaiting my chance at training with powah. I'm hoping to secure the PT within the month.

On the racing front, I think I've only managed Poolesville between Ephrata and now. What a disappointing race. I surprised myself last year and hung on for a decent finish. I expected, and was gunning for, better this year.

The race seemed slow. The gravel was more fun. And then I crashed. I was better off than most. I simply rode up and on to a pile of downed cyclists. Untangling bike and body took long enough for a gap to form to the leaders. I chased like a dog and never re-gained contact. My cheering section (thanks Drew and Sonja and Evan) encouraged me to finish the last lap. I'm glad I did. I'd post photos of my blood-splattered shoes and legs, but the home computer is broken. So I finished, but all by my lonesome. Better luck next year, eh?

The personal pain also includes the aforementioned computer problems. The screen on the laptop is shot, so I can't post to the blog, can't download the Max Blob's photos, and can't update my training log. And so life comes to a grinding halt, right?

Long weekend on tap. Looking forward to having mom and Dale in town. Can't wait to show 'em the new digs, take in an Orioles game, gorge myself at Komi, walk the trail near our place, and maybe even fit in a training ride or two. No Kelly Cup for me. And no CSC for us amateurs. I think I've got a few crits lined up in the next month. It'd be great to actually race one of those with some confidence and certainty.

There's more to tell, but there's also work to do, right?