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In the (Feed)Zone
w/Mark Swartzendruber
Hoop
Dreams
It's
been an excellent off season. Oct 2, 2005 The Lovely Kathy and I
exchanged vows of commitment and faithfulness in front of family
and friends. I'm not kidding about this, The Lovely Kathy promised
that she would always keep me as "at least a third priority"
in her life in front of God and all the witnesses. This is what
I respect about her. I doubt I could love a woman who would view
me as the most important thing in her life. That woman would soon
cease to be of interest to me.
Afterward
we had a big party and a 2 week vacation. We went to Switzerland
and Italy. While in Switzerland we visited the Commune (Township)
of Trub, situated halfway between Luzern and Bern, from where the
Schwartzentrub clan hails. When my Great Grandfather Shem came to
America as a boy with the rest of his family to find inexpensive
land for a dairy farm and the freedom to practice their Anabaptist
(Mennonite) faith, the fine folks in the immigration office in Baltimore
changed the family name to Swartzendruber. I wonder what nickname
I would go by had the name not been changed by some boneheaded immigration
officer back in the late 1800's

Italy
was of course wonderful and due to some mechanical issues on our
return flight, we were "forced" to spend 4 extra days
in Florence. It was during those 4 days that Kathy began what will
become a life long love affair with Limoncello. As my brother told
me, it could have been worse, it could have been Bangladesh. I did
not take my bike. The thought never even entered my mind. Seriously,
and if it had, I would not be worth of such a woman as The Lovely
Kathy.

I was
asked more than once last season why my contributions to Truesport
are so much more frequent than those of Max and Billy. The answer
to that question is plainly evident. Max is like L Ron Hubbard or
John the Revelator. The creator of brazen fiction and allegory portrayed
as fact which becomes a belief system. Max is a master storyteller.
He doesn't need to be prolific to be memorable.
Billy
is the essayist that I wish I were. He agonizes over his work and
only contributes when he believes he has something that is well
written and profound to offer. His opinions are pointed, accurate
insightful. Again he concentrates on quality rather than quantity.
He is tortured wordsmith - A curmudgeon along the lines of H.L.
Mencken.
I on
the other hand I am an op-ed contributor. I operate in the genre
of fluff, tripe and personal opinion. I don't have to be good; I
must only have an opinion or a story and a forum. Like Maureen Dowd
of The New York Times, I don't need to be accurate, insightful or
even have something that is worthy of print. I just need to have
a chip on my shoulder or a snide point to make and at least one
other person to agree with my point of view. I'm not reporting in
an effort to relay facts - God knows that facts often get in the
way of a good story. I'm certainly not able to view a race through
eyes other than my own, so there you go. When you are opinionated
it's easy to write stuff down, especially when it doesn't need to
be subject to fact checks.
I note
that a new contributor to Truesport has appeared. It remains to
be seen what the new writer will offer for the upcoming season.
Certainly last season's newbies provided neither quality nor quantity
in their work. At first glance he's at least able to use the spell
check on his computer and string a coherent sentence together, which
is at minimum, a good start.
The
thought occurred to me that maybe my approach to off season training
has been all wrong. Perhaps the likkerd up fixed gear roller sessions
and high wattage suffer fests in the walk in cooler I call a garage
on the Tacx-Flow aren't the way to go.
The
e-mail coaching industry in cycling has become ubiquitous and palpably
prosperous. I offer into evidence that we now have two (2) US Continental
teams sponsored by coaching systems along with who knows how many
Cat 3 (three) dreamer squads. As noted here and in the Chronicles
of Rev. Billy, American cyclists like American golfers are willing
to drop inordinate amounts of coin chasing the Nirvana of going
faster for longer or hitting longer drives that land on short grass
despite overwhelming evidence pointing to the fact that as with
fine motor skills, the combination of aerobic capacity and power
output from the saddle of a bike are like rhythm "either you
got it or you don't"*. And, if you never get faster, cycling
hopes are bolstered in that if you fail to graduate from the rank
of Lickspittle you can always wait until you reach age 35+ to flail
around in a crit hiding from the front like a D student in back
row of a classroom trying desperately to remain inconspicuous so
as to avoid the notice of the teacher. The fear of course is being
called on during the oral pop quiz and revealing to all that you
are basically below average. For as long as a person has been willing
to drop a coin, a person has followed to pick that coin off the
ground, pocket it and convince the dropper that there are benefits
to dropping more. Those particularly adept at this deceptive art
don't waste their time as e mail cycling coaches or driving range
instructors, they go directly into politics.
Back
to the point
I for one have changed my routine and I'll let
you all in on the secret. After watching arguably the fittest man
in the nation - Dee Brown, All American Guard for the 9th ranked
Frightnin' Illini of the University of Illinois - do his thing every
3rd night for 33 of 40 minutes at a very high level, I've seen the
light.

Look
at this guy. He has single digit body fat, is ripped to the gills
and able to operate in the land of anaerobia for 20 minutes at a
shot. Plus he has tattoos, which is seemingly prerequisite in cycling.
It's given that Dee likely would not be able to pilot a bicycle
up the Col du Galibier even with the autobus, but given exposure,
I'd be willing to venture that he could do 3 laps of the Major Taylor
Velodrome in less than 1:12, which a fair number of practiced cyclists
fail to do, including yours truly.
Here
is another one, long forgotten but recently rediscovered at a concert
in Chicago on November 29th.

This
is Dave Gahan, lead singer of Depeche Mode. He's 40+. I saw this
man with my own eyes dance, jump and sing for nearly 3 consecutive
hours. It was like watching Denise Austin on X. Impressive stuff.
He's clearly aerobically fit, and his history of substance abuse
(which may be a benefit) aside, I believe that he'd be able to duck
and dodge his way mid pack in a 40+ masters crit after a few tries.
Look at him. His body fat is the envy of any cyclist seeking coaching
help and with those tattoos, he's at least ready to be a Cat 3 (three)
or at very least a mountain biker - sport category and if he smokes
enough weed, maybe expert.
The
above is pure rubbish of course. Bodies do what bodies are trained
to do, but if one does not possess the genetics to be an All American
point guard for a top 10 team or the lead singer of a world famous
band, one will never be regardless of the amount of money one spends
on e-mail coaching programs. For this reason riders are dropped
from races when the pace gets fast and karaoke all stars and shower
singers show themselves as fools on Star Search.
That
said, I'm riding my in the garage less and playing more basketball
this winter. If nothing else, the hemorrhoids are shrinking.
*Maikeru
Koti
Team
Delta Faucet has grown. We lost Der Hausfrau who moved in June to
Georgia and is now riding for the prestigious Smith Barney/Cane
Creek team but we picked up some more than adequate riders in his
stead. Dave Stone, Chris Mosora, newbie Russ Reed and USCF 30-34
points race Champion, Kelly Sparks. Dave is no kin to Rev. Billy;
a matter that one team member insisted upon before we made an offer
to Dave. We stole Kelly and Chris from the Proctor team. It had
to be done as Proctor was getting too good. In the 30-34 national
points race last August at the Major Taylor Velodrome, Kelly absolutely
destroyed the field, lapping the field solo then continuing to attack
and take points. It was the coolest thing I'd seen in sports since
Bo Jackson ran over Brian Bosworth on the goal line during a Monday
Night Football game in 1988.
I've
heard rumblings from the left coast that a super team funded with
proceeds from the tri-fecta of White Trash Law - Personal Injury
suits, Divorce and Bankruptcy fees - is being cobbled together.
I find no fault in White Trash Law as I've been involved in the
two former on that list. Everybody hates attorneys until they need
one. Rumor has this team being built around multiple National Champions
and former pros
Turbo, The Vampire and with guest appearances
by former MTB national pro champion Steve Larsen and retired pro
Kirk Willet. Toss in the usual set of strong men as guardians and
the West Coast masters races just as well not be staged. Just take
your pick and put Labor on the top three steps. Of course I've only
heard rumors so this is little more than gossip column fodder, but
if the rumors are true, it means that last year's Stuporweak sMACKs
will be replaced as the most dominant team of masters riders ever
assembled. *chuckle*
It
just snowed another 6 inches in Central IL. If I were supposed to
be riding a bike it would drive me to drink like last winter. I
don't care. I don't think the rec center gym has any snow in it.
It's
going to be a long winter.
Flail
On,
Druber
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