NY Times: Spread the Word

NY Times just featured a great article on women’s cycling in conjunction with the Tour of California. Check out the article and e-mail it to all your friends. Help us get the article onto the “Most E-Mailed Article” list, and get the word out about women’s cycling!

Article here: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/16/sports/cycling/16cycling.html

Everything You Ever Wanted To Know

… But Were Afraid To Ask.

New interview up on Daily Peloton.  Check it out!

http://www.dailypeloton.com/displayarticle.asp?pk=13976

Points to those who catch the Blog Title reference. (I would call it an allusion, but I’m not sure it qualifies.)

Immer in den Kühlschrank Trainieren

The temperature read -2 C when Thomas and I headed out for our ride today. Minus two may sound cold, but with sun shining across blue skies, we didn’t give the temperature a second thought.

Thomas is a great training partner. First of all, he’s strong, and it’s important to train with people who can really put the hurt on you. Second, he is a policeman. When we ride two abreast and I ask if this is okay, he says, “I am the policeman around here.” And, when drivers honk and gesture rudely at us, he says, “Now I have his license plate number.” I love this! Lastly, he knows all of the good training routes in Styria, which is very helpful, because most of the time I have no idea where we are. Usually I navigate well, but when so many towns share the same name (e.g. Neudorf, Neudorf, Neudorf – yes, three of them – and Neudorf ob. Wildon; or Thal, Thal-Eben, Thal-Eck, Thal-Unterbichl, Thal-Oberbichl, Thal-Winkel, Thal-Kirchberg-Linak, and Thal-Waldsdorf-Schuesselhof), I get a little confused.

For example, last week we did a long ride in heavy fog, with visibility at about 100 meters. There would be no way to use landmarks (or signs for that matter) to navigate the route, so I was glad Thomas knew where to go. I told him so, and he said, “So this would be a perfect time to attack you!” Which was true, and doubly so because he’d only need to get 100 meters up the road to be out of sight.

The fog made for a fun ride, because I could only anticipate the next 100 meters of terrain. Climbing? No, just kidding – it’s a 2k descent. Descent? Wrong again! 8% climb! The fog also combined with the cold to coat every branch in a sheath of delicate ice crystals, which created a beautiful winter wonderland effect. In fact, the fog was heavy enough that little droplets accumulated on my eyelashes and froze in a similar fashion, coating my lashes in ice crystals, which stuck together every time I blinked.

Today, however, we had sunny skies and clear panoramas of the snowy mountains in all directions, which all in all made for a fantastic day on the bike, freezing or not.

Multilingual

Recent sound-bites from the Austrian media:

“Das ist puuuuure BEEF!” (FM4 Radio; apparently NOT referring to the ingredients of Wurst)

“Gibt’s hier der flower power hippie musik.” (ORF1 TV; only took 40 years to make it here)

“Horton Hört ein Who.” (FM4 Radio; more Seuss than Seuss?)

“Ich glaube nicht, Null Null Sieben.” (Classic Bond, auf Deutsch; even cheesier dubbed)

“Gibt’s nur FULL GAS!” (ORF1 FIS World Cup TV coverage; love it)

Hero

Santa Clara International Invitational Swim Meet, circa 1996:

The officials has just ended our warm-up session, so I climbed out of the pool and headed toward our team’s tent to dry off and stretch before prelims. Among the throng of swimmers fiddling with wet caps and googles, I noticed a little kid walking across the crowded pool deck.

He stood out because a) he was smaller than everyone else, and b) he was fully clothed. The poor kid wore his shorts as high as they would go – nearly to his chest – with his t-shirt tucked in. Worse still, his socks were pulled up to his knees, leaving only an inch or so between the sock and hem of his shorts.

I had scarcely noticed the kid when Sabir Muhammad stopped short in front of him. Without saying a word, the six-foot-seven sprinter leaned down and tugged the kid’s socks down to his ankles, untucked his shirt, and straightened his shorts so they fell at his waist – not his armpits. Sabir stood up, and with a curt nod of approval, kept walking. He never said a word.

Earning It

On recovery days during the summer, I’ll spin along sparkling green roads en route to a sunny cafe patio, where my teammates and I will relax over cappucinos. Inevitably, those are the days people ask, “So, this is what you do for a living?” And I answer truthfully: yes.

Of course, this isn’t the whole truth.

Today, for example, the rain poured and the skies threw buckets of hail at my head. I pedaled through snow, slush and puddles under the incredulous stares of bundled-up pedestrians and motorists. This is also what I do for a living.

Days like today are what keep me from feeling too guilty on those lovely summer days while I sip fresh coffee in the warm sunshine and say, “Yes. As a matter of fact, this is what I do for a living.”

Thanksgiving Statistics

No modern holiday is so closely identified with consumption as Thanksgiving. Most related statistics are quoted in units of millions and billions of pounds of food and excess kilocalories, concern for which has given rise to an online prevalence of holiday calorie counters. However, a focus on overconsumption wholly neglects more profound meanings of the Thanksgiving holiday, not the least of which is the title of the holiday itself!

The holiday’s origins may be mired in a less-than-savory history, but in modern times, the holiday has become more of a collective time-out for coming together as family, for reaffirming community bonds and for reflecting on all that is good in life, on all we have for which we are thankful.

In fact, for all of the calories consumed at Thanksgiving tables, there are all of those calories burned on countless “Turkey Rides” organized across the country. Cycling communities everywhere get together on this day to enjoy the outdoors, a sense of community and a spirit of gratitude. I wonder if anyone has ever compiled statistics on how many people participate in Turkey Rides, on how many calories are burned, on the side effects of focusing on the positive, or genuinely feeling a part of a community? Those are the kinds of statistics I’d like to see, and in my opinion, we could use more holidays like this one.

Turkey Ride in Los Gatos, CA

Comfort and Joy – In a Nutshell

The holiday season is upon us, as are – consequently – the corollary holiday treats. Somewhere, Starbucks is selling a pumpkin spice latte and a peppermint mocha with sprinkles. Here in Graz, Adventkalendars (neatly packaged tests of willpower) fill grocery store shelves; bakeries offer the dense, fruity-sweet Kletzenbrot; and the Christkindlmarkt sparkles with lights and Keksebacken and smells of warm Punsch and Gluhwein. The celebratory spirit is almost enough to warm your insides through, but there’s nothing quite like having a hot drink or warm little snack steaming in your hands on a cold city night.

Among the tempting variety of less-than-healthful options, I’ve found a new training friendly holiday favorite: roasted chestnuts.

I can smell them before I see the little Heisse Maroni kiosk, cheerfully lit among the festivities. The Maroni Man tosses the next batch over the coals with casual flare, then scoops a steaming cupful of the aromatic nuts into a carefully folded newspaper cone and hands it to me. My bare fingers wouldn’t venture from my wool pockets for anything else, but the warm paper cone fits perfectly between my hands, cozy and steaming with the rich, roasted chestnut smell. Each little chesnut – split open from the heat of the coals – is hot and smooth against my fingertips as I peel away the shell to find the waxy, warm center, chewy and sweet in my mouth.

Like a morning cup of coffee, a Viertel of heisse Maroni tastes better as part of a ritual. The buttery-rich flavor is inextricably linked with the Frohes Fest, with plunking down a coin on the ceramic plate at the Heisse Maroni kiosk, next to the hot coals and roasting nuts, among the bustling market and sparkling lights of the Hauptplatz. The little paper cone has become as integral a part of my holiday experience as pumpkin pie, though perhaps a bit more healthful!

Der Steierischer Herbst

After six months of racing through countless states and countries, I’m done living out of a roller bag, at least for the time being. Home: my own pillow, a closet, my own coffee mug every morning at my very own desk, and above all, the dmp.

Being back has also meant no bikes for a while, which is good for the ol’ noggin. Instead, we’ve been hitting the alpine trails and savoring a tantalizing visual buffet.

Hoher Sonnblick, Kolm Saigurn

Hofburg, Vienna

Trail in Mixnitz

Bärenschutzklamm, Mixnitz

Der Herbst

Dachstein

Dachstein Glacier

Riesachsee

Buchberg, Bischofshofen

Wilde Wasser Alm, Untertal

More photos at http://picasaweb.google.com/ambermalika

David Rides the Spring Horse