Almost every competitive cyclist, and countless recreation cyclists, dream and fantasizes of what racing in the Tour de France might be like. Yet only a select few (in the neighborhood of 180 something-or-another) cyclists actually get to live out this fantasy on an annual basis. And while the Tour de France is undeniably the pinnacle of competitive cycling, there are two other magnificent Grand Tours, (or “Grandy’s”) the Giro di Italia and the Vuelta a Espana, which should not go unaccounted for. For many, these notions remain a dream and fantasy all through our careers and lives. And for a select few, these dreams become goals, become planning and ambition, become reality. Recently, a magical transformation has taken place, whereby a Grandy has moved from my realm of “fantasy” into a realistic, and attainable, goal. Just how did this transformation begin to bear fruit? Allow me to expand on a recent trip to Guatemala, where I recently finished the Vuelta a Guatemala.

But first, let us discuss a few stats (because I do love stats) of your “typical” Grandy.
Length (Kilometers): 3000+
Length (Hours): 90+
Days (Total): 23
Days (Stages): 21
Days (Rest/Transfer): 2

Now for some stats from the Vuelta a Guatemala:
Length (Kilometers): 1530
Length (Hours): 46
Days (Total): 12
Days (Stages): 12
Days (Rest/Transfer): 0

With our raw data, lets do a few calculations. After all, what good are stats if you don’t take the time to analyze them?
Length (Kilometers): 1530/3000=.51 or 51%
Length (Hours): 46/90=.5111 or 51.11%
Days (Total): 12/23=.5217 or 52.17%
Days (Stages): 12/21=.5714 or 57.14%
Days (Rest/Transfer): 0/2=0 or 00%

And now for the final analysis and break down.
You will notice that with the exception of Rest/Transfer Days, the recently concluded Vuelta a Guatemala is greater than, or equal to, half of a typical Grandy; and had almost 6 days of racing, for every 10 days of racing in a Grandy. All without a single Rest/Transfer Day. So, if we were to look only at the numbers, one could easily argue that I have just completed half a Grandy.

However, despite my love for statistics, one must also take into account personal experiences. The highs and lows; or the “climbs” and “sprints” if you will. For I should think it impossible to complete more than even a few meager days of racing/traveling/resting without beginning to accumulate some fantastically entertaining stories and experiences.

Saddle Sores? You can bet that more than a handful of riders are reaching a little deeper, (if you are Euro) or squeezing a little longer, into their choicest container of chamois cream. My time in Guatemala was no exception. With the roads in a state of constant deterioration, it didn’t take long before several of us “Gringos” were searching for comfort in a little extra chamois creme. Luckily, nothing got too out of control, and presumably things have “calmed down” after our return to the wonderful US-of-A.

Language Barriers? You bet! After all, we are English-speaking Americans, and who doesn’t speak English, right? Wrong. It turns out that only a select few Guatemalans are able to comprehend our Anglo-Frisian banter. Luckily I was able to draw on a few reserves, left from my high school days. Although I suspect that the individuals who live south of the Rio Grande may have felt like they were conversing with a First-Grader when I attempted to converse in their Ibero-Romance banter, I was nonetheless able to convey or receive the point of the conversation. Of course, it wasn’t always easy going while chewing the fat, there were numerous mis-pronunciations, wrong tenses, wrong words, and simply words that I was making up.

New Foods? Naturally. While many an American thoroughly enjoy a good burrito or taco, that is just the “tip of the ice berg”, or the “cherry on top” if you will. My palate simply couldn’t suck down enough fresh baked corn tortillas, , fresh plantains, friend plantains, or (extremely spicy) salsa, alongside the more commonplace Latin staples such as rice, chicken, steak, tropical fruits, and the rest. Which of course where much preferable to the average tasting, yet never-ending, trays of pasta which they placed before us. With the exception of one quite good plate of carbonara which came in the evening after stage, uh, er, well, I don’t really remember which night it was. It was later in the race, and the creamy sauce just simply hit the spot that evening.

Crazy fans? We saw tens of thousands of fans over the course of twelve days. Three lane roads suffocated to a barely passable 5 and 6 riders abreast was intimidating at first, but nearly became normal by the time we completed the Stage 12 13 kilometer ITT in Guatemala City. Along the way, the “Gringos” proved to be popular in every start and finish city, and all along the way. My teammates and I enjoyed all the creative, and not-so-creative, cheers and jeers which came our way. And when we were not actually racing or riding, it we turned ourselves into a nearly non-stop photo and autograph producing machine. In the extreme, collecting bottles, jerseys, hats, and gloves was so “last year;” one fan took things to a new and unprecedented height when he asked me to autograph his baby! That’s right; his freaking baby now bears my scarcely legible scrawl across its stomach.

The numbers don’t lie, and I could go on for hours sharing stories and experiences which my teammates and I accumulated over our 12 days of racing in Guatemala. But even all of this is just the beginning. The beginning of something bigger – something “Grand.” But wait, I don’t want to get too far ahead of myself. Mathematically and anecdotally, I have come to the conclusion that I did just in fact complete a little over half of a “Grandy.” Which means it is time to recover in “Grand” style. And with that, allow us to usher in the off-season; a time of the year where overindulgence is a new and exciting daily routine. As one fellow US National Team Member once said, “Hello off-season. Can I buy you a drink?”

Keep the Rubber Side Down,
C-

Go to the Source – carsonmiller.missingsaddle.com

I don’t even know where to begin my recounting of last week’s events, so how’bout a list. Day-by-day, and we will see where we end up.

Monday: After finishing up with La Vuelta de Bisbee as the best young rider, I re-packed my life into my trusty Subaru for the “Gila-boring” drive from one desert mining town, to another. If it weren’t for the sun-drenched panoramic views of the desert, this might have been a drive that could rival the blandness of driving across the state of Wyoming. Much of the drive was spent in “radio-silence” as there were neither FM-Radio waves, nor Cellular waves. Early on in the drive, I left my radio on “scanning” as my right-hand pointer-finger was fatiguing from the continual clicking of the FM-Dial on the stereo. Thirty minutes later, I was jolted from a day-dream when my radio unexpectedly began to receive a radio station from Mexico. Needless to say, I was “Gila-startled” by the sudden blaring of mariachi music. At the end of my “Gila-boring” drive, I arrived in Silver City, and met my “Gila-great” host family.

Tuesday: With one stage race just beginning to seep out of my legs, and another just around the corner, today was a leisurely day. My agenda included coffee, a couple hours of riding, lunch, race packet pick-up, bike prep, dinner, and an early bed time. After my morning coffee consumption was completed, I met up with my good friend Andrew for a “Gila-chill” recon ride over some of the courses which we would race on.

Wednesday: The first stage of a race always comes as a bit of a shock to the system. You spend weeks training and preparing for an event, then usually comes at least a few days to rest and taper before continuously making “Gila-big” efforts. I got my race off on the right foot, with a couple of “Gila-big” efforts than landed me in the day’s break. Inside of the final 10km, and I made one more “Gila-big” effort to steel the show. While I came up short, those last desperate minutes as I poured myself into the pedals were “Gila-satisfying.” After being caught, I desperately tried to hold the wheel of each group/rider who passed me in those final 3km before finally reaching the finish and suffering from a “Gila-bad” case of pursuiter’s-cough.

Thursday: Today was “Gila-windy.” Enough said. Ok, I’ll elaborate a bit. After a wild and semi-unorderly neutral start to the race, “It was on like Donkey-Kong.” With “Gila-strong” winds whipping across the region, the strongest teams and riders set a pace which destroyed the field in the first 20km of the race. After loosing one of my bottles, the first 100km of the day were “Gila-dry” as the neutral service seemed to be blown out of the feedzones. Going through the final feedzone of the stage, I stalked up on bottles and prepared for a crazy finale to the stage. The last 10km of the race were “Gila-sketch” with riders getting blown off the road, racing in the gutters, and even down the sidewalks. I persevered through the mayhem, only to suffer a flat-tire with 2km remaining in the race. Thankfully, the “3km Rule” stepped up the plate and saved my bacon, as the judges awarded me the same finishing time as the (front) group that I was with.

Friday: Time-Trial racing has become something of a technological marvel. The bikes, helmets, wheels, and even clothes we wear for these events crams worlds of technology into the fewest possible grams. As just one man, with limited resources, I was “Gila-disadvantaged” by racing on my road bike. In truth, today was more about coming out alive, and getting some extra rest and recuperation before the final couple of stages in the race. After almost 40 minutes of stomping on the pedals, my day’s work was done. A quick cool-down spin, and I was back in my “Gila-comfy” bed enjoying a rare treat; a nap.

Saturday: With “Gila-cold” temperatures not giving way to the rising sun, I savored a few extra cups of coffee before going for a morning spin. Nothing big, just a quick hour or so to loosen up the legs, and to prepare for some “Gila-violent” efforts in the crit that would come in the evening. The crit was “Gila-rad” with thousands of spectators lining a challenging 4-corner course, loaded with 80 feet of climbing per lap.

Sunday: After a “Gila-early” morning ahead of the week’s earliest start, I gathered up my race bag and jumped on my bike to ride to the venue. With four days of hard racing in the legs, and “Gila-cold” temps again resisting the rising sun, the race started off with some violent efforts. Even the neutral felt hard as our hearts worked to force blood through arteries and veins which had constricted in the cold. Again, strong winds whipped across the course, and with valuable sprint bonus points loaded into the first half of today’s stage, the strongest teams and riders hit the front and split the peleton to pieces. With my arteries and veins dilating all to slowly, I missed out on the day’s break, and also found myself stuck behind the first split of the race. Luckily we were able to rejoin the front group in a timely manner, and I quickly set about topping off my fuel levels with plenty of food and drink to keep me going through the second half of the stage. The half loaded with steep alpine climbs, “Gila-gnarly” descents, and lots of places where a selection could, and would, be made. As the snow began to fall, I felt the fatigue creeping into my legs, and slowly lost contact with the leaders going over a Cat-1 climb. It was like bleeding to death, as they remained right in front of me winding up the mountainside, but with each effort to close the gap, I only flailed more than the time before. With 40km remaining, a flying Floyd Landis caught up to my small chase group. Over the final 40km, I rode on the wheel of Ben King, who rode on the wheel of Floyd Landis. It was almost like motor-pacing for an hour after a solid three-and-a-half hours on the bike. And without a motorcycle/scooter. As Ben called it, we were “Floyder-pacing.” Through numerous riders, groups, and even cars, Landis set a steady tempo which pushed our pace, and saw a small group come to the line a little over 6 minutes after the leaders arrived.

And there you have it, my “Gila-long” review of a “Gila-great” week spent in Silver City, NM racing the SRAM Tour of The Gila.

Keep The Rubber Side Down,
C-

Go to the Source – carsonmiller.missingsaddle.com

These games all serve a different purpose. The mental games are often a sort of psychological war-fare where we are trying to defeat our “enemeies” in the arena of sport. The physical games are usually a way to entertain ourselves. These games seve many purposes, but always have a physical presence which we can touch and feel. Which brings me to “The Waiting Game.”

The Waiting Game has many variations and iterations. As professional athletes, we often spend a lot of time sitting and waiting before and after competition. I have remarked before that professional athletes are also professional sitters. In truth though, we do much more than sit. We are waiting. Waiting to arrive at our next event, waiting for an event to start, waiting for a teammate to get out of the shower, waiting for better weather, waiting for… and the list goes on.

The beauty of The Waiting Game is it’s simplicity, as there is only one rule. Don’t get bored. Period. “How hard is that?” I hear you ask, “I would kill to do nothing for a day.” For one day, yes, maybe doing nothing is novel. However by the nth time you have tried to do nothing, you will inevitably find yourself bored. Congratulations! You have just failed the waiting game.

So how do I play the waiting game? First, I start with a wide variety of game pieces; my two favorite pieces include my iPhone and MacBook computer, followed closely by a good book as well as Television/Movies.

The first piece to come out of the game box is my phone. Within 15 or 20 minutes, I have made an initial pass on Social Media, E-Mails, and have moved to the Interwebs where I will peruse the days (cycling) news. After the first round of play, I reach for my computer which I will use to check for a viable Internet connection. With said connection, perusing the Interwebs is easier for both my eyes and thumbs. If my roll for the Internet turns out to be a pair of “snake eyes,” then I am only going to squander a few minutes before I roll again and gamble on some creativity – hopefully I score the rare double-6’s and find that I have a good movie which I can watch. As the opening round comes to a close, one more move of the first piece, my phone, will close the round. Usually the second check on Social Media is quick, and reveals only a few new developments. Then if I am lucky, I will find an interesting E-Mail or two which I read immediately.

Round-Two is where I reach for the remaining pieces which will fill almost any void which needs filling. Perusing hundreds of channels of programming is at first a daunting task. For the amateur player, this task alone will see several minutes pass by. As you graduate from Beginner, to Intermediate, to Advance, checking for interesting programing becomes almost second nature – and can even be combined with another move of your phone or computer piece. With any luck, your seach will reveal some form of entertainment which will hold your attention for some length of time. Should your search of television be another pair of “Snake-Eyes,” you can close the second round with a good book. While finding a good book can be a hard task, once you find a good book you have an almost certain pair of 6’s on your next roll. Crack that book open, and Round 2 might last for several hours.

After Round 2 is complete, continue to move your pieces in any order that will hold your attention without feelig the passage of time. The game is over when your next appointed activity is scheduled to begin. If you get bored before that time, you lose; and if you have managed to succesfully fill the void in your day without feeling the passage of time, congratulations. You have just won “The Waiting Game.” Simple. Period.

Currently, my Friday morning edition of The Waiting Game is entering the final moves in the final round. This evening I get another race underway with a 3.1km ITT Prologue to open this weekend’s La Vuelta de Bisbee. Ah shit, look at that; morning has come and gone. That’s another win for me in The Waiting Game, and I am now out the door to prepare for a violent effort in this evening’s race.

Keep the Rubber Side Down,
C-

Go to the Source – carsonmiller.missingsaddle.com

Alright, so I am not actually going to write (sing) out the rest of that song.  And for 2 very simple reasons.  First and foremost, I don’t know the rest of the words.  Secondly, if I were to sing out-loud to myself, trying to remember the words, the other occupants of this cozy coffee shop would be grasping their ears as they ran out the doors in an attempt to escape the unmelodic shrill of my voice.  Which, is not necessarily a bad way to gain fame in today’s pop-culture.  Perhaps during the coming off-season, which is still a LOOOONG ways off, I can come up with a new song and dance which would prove to be even more catchy than “Pant’s On The Ground.” In the meantime, the 2010 Road Season is bearing down on me, and its time to get down to biznass.

But “Wait,” you say; it has been something like 4 months with no posting.  What has happened between a day of rock-climbing with your bros and now logging countless hours in the saddle.  At first, my hiatus from the blog-posting was convenience and laziness merged into one cohesive chunk of time where I was able to escape from the daily rigors of cycling.  With time passing by quickly, my off season quickly gave way to reintroducing my ass to chamois creme and saddle time, while my legs struggled to remember how exactly it was possible to tap out more than 80 smooth revolutions in the span of 60 seconds.  Eventually, the bike was no longer a foreign object between my legs, but rather an extension of my own being.  In the mornings, I would sip at my cup(s) of coffee while pouring over cycling related news online, and by the time evening rolled around, I had digested all the day’s news, blogs, transfers, and developments.

It was during that time, that I noticed that I, like many other cyclists, had begun to enjoy all the leisures of the off-season.  Things like eating excessive amounts of delicious food, staying up late, even the occasional alcoholic beverage were all fair game during this short and precious time of relaxation in our year otherwise ruled by concerns of our power-to-weight ratios, fitness/form, and other performance defining idioms.  And after reading the nth account of a night spent enjoying “grape-juice” and hors d’oeuvres, or a holiday feast which was ruled by pumpkin and other savory sweets, I decided that the world really didn’t need another personal account of a near-similar experience.  And I so I left the blogging and story telling to those who exercise and display a greater mastery of the written word, than do I.

However it is now that the days of racing are nigh.  Nay, in fact, the days racing have already begun to accumulate this year.  Lest you think that my 2010 is already passing you by, rest assured that the 2 days of racing which I have logged were more just me remembering how to function smoothly and efficiently under the auspices of racing and not just training.  My first race of 2010 was the Boulevard Road Race held in eastern San Diego County.  This year again brought conditions which would favor the true hardmen who were willing to suffer the most as we set out to race under a cool sky which was releasing a steady bone-soaking rain.  An untimely flat took me out of contention for a result, and left me to suffer alone at the front of a small group of men whom endured the conditions and refused to quit.  A day later, and I was mid-pack in a crit dusting off my crit-sharking-skillz.  Those skills still have much honing to be done, but it was refreshing to get back into a elbow-rubbing peleton as we raced around an old industrial park for all of 75 mins.

Coming out of those 2 races, I am excited to see my form improving, and hold high hopes for another year of learning, growing, and winning.  With my afternoon’s latte long since finished, and a computer battery that is about to die, I am going to power down and head back to the ranch.  It’s true, I am back, and I am ready to rock another solid year of living the dream from the seat of my bike.  I’ll see you on the road…

Keep the Rubber Side Down,
C-

Go to the Source – carsonmiller.missingsaddle.com

With my brother not having school on Fridays, we decided to make the most of his day off last week.  After a sleeping in, we headed into downtown for some errands and a trip to one of Bend’s finest coffee shops.  While he tackled a few to-do’s, I tackled the best latte in town.  With our to-do’s ticked off, and riding high on my delicious brew, we rolled over to the Taco Stand for a quick lunch.  Around Bend, the Taco Stand has become almost iconic.  Inside an older deteriorating building, which is well of the beaten path, Bend’s population has found one of the best inexpensive ways to conquer hunger by means of the all-mighty burrito.  As with most locations offering up quick Mexican food, the portions are large, and you could surely eat something other than a burrito, but I don’t know why.  The flour tortillas are bursting at their edges with fresh ingredients that satisfy all but the biggest of appetites.

Having eaten our fill of Mexican, we returned home in order to pick up some climbing gear.  While my brother never really took to the world of competitive sports, he has found abundant joy in climbing mountain after mountain, and rock face after rock face.  I decided to join in on the fun for a day.  With all the gear in the back of our Subaru, we rolled out to Smith Rock State Park where we meet up with a few mutual friends for an afternoon of climbing.  I should note that it has been many years (like at least eight), since the last time I pulled on a harness or climbing shoes.  While I thought I knew what snug fitting shoes felt like, pulling on a pair of “appropriately” sized climbing shoes was just the first of many surprises that would come my way that afternoon.  After cramming my feet into the impossibly small shoes, and getting over the initial shock of how tight they fit, I found a world of enjoyment.

Lots of vertical rocks, and lots to accomplish here are Smith Rock State Park. The views are not too bad either…

We spent the afternoon tackling several different pitches and routes and climbed right into dusk.  While my afternoon began with modest ambitions, and a chief aim of spending time with my brother doing something that he enjoyed, I left the state park with so much more.  We made out way out of the park as the sun was sinking beyond the horizon, reaching the car just before the last rays of sun-light disappeared.  The hike out left me anxious for more.  An afternoon of challenging climbs, great time spent with friends, and a new found hobby were just the way to recharge my batteries.

As it turns out, spending time away from the bike is not as hard as I thought it might be.  And with a new found hobby, I still have plenty to learn and plenty to keep me active while taking a break from the endless kilometers of tarmac which I plan to overcome in the coming season.

It was a long way to the top, but I made it. This is a shot on my favorite pitch from Friday afternoon, and I can't wait to try out some new routes.

Between now and resuming structured training in a few short weeks, you can be sure I will be making a few more climbing trips with my brother.

Keep the Rubber Side Down,
C-

Go to the Source – carsonmiller.missingsaddle.com