Weighing my options Friday night, Saturday morning held three options.  I could ride 4 hours on the trainer.  I could drive an hour west and ride out past the suburban sprawl and alone or I could drive up to Racine and ride with Tim.  I chose the later.  A cup of coffee and out the door.  Frankly, with all the construction, the drive up to Wisconsin every weekend is getting really annoying.  Either way, I was soon dressed and rolling out of Tim's driveway.  For the net 34 miles or so we headed due west into a brutal headwind.  Nothing Chicago has not whipped up before, but it made the trip out kind of slow.  We rolled through Waterford about two hours later.  I thought how it was kind of cool that my bike made the trip back to where it was made.  I was really surprised with how little the town was.  I hoped for a good coffee shop, but was totally let down.  Our ride back to Racine was turbo charged.  With my broken front derailer, spinning was the name of the game, but we still rode the second half of the ride in almost half the time.  I was totally spent by the time we rolled back into the driveway.  The four hours in the saddle felt good and my farmers tan is looking good!

Stupid Finger.  I wanted the workout today.  I needed it and wanted it to hurt.  The problem was that I did not feel like risking any further injury to my finger out in busy Friday evening traffic and rain.  So I took out the trainer and set it up on the balcony.  The following hour and thirty minutes was a lactic festival of pain.  The trainer: the power meter says that it isn't more difficult to ride on it, but it sure does feel like it takes a significant increased amount of effort to get that wheel around.  Either way, it felt great after the pain went away.  Dinner was so good. Pasta and black beans with two pork chops off the grill.

Or stitch or not to stitch, that is the question.  The week following treadfest I chose to spend off the bike, but this week I had regained the motivation to really put some time, power and effort into the pedals.  The after work workouts were made up and scheduled.  Put a good one in on Wednesday.  Set out to do another last night.  I had just gotten on the path and was spinning south along Lake Shore Drive. At Jackson there is an entrance/exit to the path and people were coming across the drive to get on the path. It looked like everyone was being cautious and waiting for me to go past. Well most of them. This girl cut out into the path to make a left turn in front of me to go the opposite direction. I did not see her until the last second, as she came around the group waiting for me and I hit her HARD. The powermeter caught it all in its' 3/4 of a second glory. 17.5 MPH to zero in about half a second. She hit the ground and I really thought I fucked her up. She was holding her face and moaning. We were both wearing helmets, but hers fell off at one point. It was great we both had helmets, I know mine has a huge dent in it. When she finally took her hands off her face, there was not any blood, thank god! The way she was moaning I was sure I broke her nose. She was okay, her bike was alright, I asked her if I was bleeding and she said no. Awesome, we got off easy. A lady that watched it happen made some cute comment about how since we were okay it might be a sign we were meant for each other. I muttered something about how that can't be, I am engaged and this girl said "at least we both have the same thing going for us."  She left. Well, I pulled off the path to straighten my front wheel and when I looked down at my fork blades they were covered in blood. I asked some random chick on the path if I was bleeding from anywhere, the right side of my head hurt pretty bad, and she said no. I gave myself a little more intense look over and realized that my glove was dripping. I took off the glove and when I bent my finger the knuckle just opened up. The cut isn't deep down, but it goes under the skin for a little ways. I put pressure on it and sat down to figure out what to do. Julie is gone, hospital? CRAP! I called my mom, who has seen me cut open more times than anyone can count, to ask advice.  I hate the hospital, my solution would be a band-aid, a beer and the couch.  For the first time ever I was considering hobbling my way to river north and the Northwestern ER. My mom said to keep it straight so that everything stays together and to stop the bleeding. She asked what I had at the house in terms of bandages and stuff. Offered to pick me up, I refused, she was going to meet me at my house. Problem is now my front wheel is off the bike, I had controlled the bleeding, but I can't get my bike rolling again. I waited for some cycle savvy looking dudes to roll by and I flagged them down to help me out. They got my wheel back on and I started riding home. Mom came all the way down into the city to see whether the smart choice would be to make a trip to the ER or not. She brought with all the appropriate medical supplies, fixed me up and I made udon for the both of us. I was super motivated to get these workouts in, and now I am off the bike. Time off only stinks when it is forced.  This is probably only dramatic for me.  I know it could have been a ton worse and I got off lucky, but it still stinks.  Here is to a trainer workout tonight.  80 degrees and sun tomorrow?  I am riding for hours on my bike regardless, I don't care.  The big picture actually doesn't look too bad, had I had a camera on the path I would have taken a picture of it opened up, it looked gnarly.

Pleasure: I got the new Collective DVD in the mail yesterday.  Motivation to get the workout in and then sit on the couch.  I was not to be disappointed either as the video was pretty darn good.  It was cool to watch being a somewhat competitive cyclist because I usually do not think of free riding as a ultra competitive form of cycling.  Well, it is, or can be.  The video starts with Steve Peat spinning on a trainer and talking about the shitty weather in England during the winter.  He says how it good it must be to train in places like Australia and California where the weather is nice and thinks about those guys while he spins on the trainer as motivation.  In regard to training through the winter in England he says, "it's a bit harder for us guys here in England, but that's why we're tougher than those boys."  Skip ahead 20 minutes and he is sitting under a tent at the Downhill World Championships. "The whole week that you're at a world cup race, comes down to one run." He lost to Sam Hill by 1 and 6/10ths of a second with a total run time of 4 minutes and 31 seconds.  He said that he knows there are parts of the course he screwed up and could have ridden faster to win, but what is done is done.  I will not look at downhill racing the same again.  If a world class athlete is finishing his world champion run in under four and a half minutes there is absolutely no room for error, and they are not going slow.  If you bobble a turn in a cross race or miss a break in a road race, there is time to recover and come from behind.  In a five minute race, you need to ride it perfectly to win.  And pretty damn fast to boot.  There is also a piece about a rider from Canada, Steve Smith, who is 19 years old.  As his mom says, while she drives down the mountain to pick him up to bring him back to the top for another run, "He's got big aims. He's going for, he wants number one in the world."  He wants the world title!  Can you imagine saying that to people?  That would be like showing up to one of my cross practices and having me look you in the eye and say, "I am going to Europe this winter to win worlds."  You'd have a good laugh as you rolled away.  He is serious and that is bad ass.  I am now inspired by downhillers.

Pain: The workout yesterday.  I have never felt like I was going to puke after an effort in my life, until yesterday.  30 seconds all out, with one minute breaks between each is tough.  When I do one or five minute intervals, I can do them at a high power output, but know I have to sustain a little longer so I don't go crazy.  30 seconds?  That is nothing, so I go completely mental.  Holy Crap, after the third I almost stopped to puke, but didn't.  Still have a couple issues that need to be remedied.  What to eat after a workout.  I need a ton of food and I know much of what I eat is not the best for me (brats, blatz and tater tots).  I like beer too, I am not over indulging, but I still feel guilty about it.  I have an idea of what I need, quality lean protein and carbohydrates.  It is just a matter of getting to the grocery and keeping the kitchen stocked all the time.  I need to sleep more, but I can not get settled down enough at 9 PM to fall asleep, I am tired, the body is just still working from the workout.  Regardless, I am sure laying in bed is good for the legs, and the reading helps me escape and fall asleep or is bike related and makes me more excited.  I need a good saddle bag too ordered a good saddle bag, from the shop.  And some decent weather and roads without stop lights would be nice too.  The path is getting boring.

The picture, if you haven't seen it on my flickr, click on it above and it will take you there.  It is a pretty cool spread.