Get me started.  I dare you.  Start talking to me about cycling.  Because once I start that is the end, I will not stop.  Sam and I at rapid transit after hours.  Julie and I over dinner, over drinks after work, or laying in bed once I get distracted by looking at my track bike.  Cale and I driving in the car.  Dan, Sean and I at his house, in the basement, on the way to white hen, on his deck and then finally in my living room.  It seems like there are endless things to discuss, parts, stradigies, good times, and the bad ones.  And I will talk to anyone.  Julie and I have talked about elitisism in the cycling community and how whether or not it should be accepted that different levels of cycling separate cyclists from eachother.  Do the elite level racers really have anything to talk about with the average everyday cyclist?  I have always felt, maybe naievly, that for one cyclist to turn up their nose at another cyclist is just plain unfriendly and not justified no matter what level each cyclist is at in their life.  I believe that cycling is cycling, plain and simple.  If you put Lance Armstrong at a table with me, an official at the track in Northbrook, or my mom they all could have a resonably plesant discussion about cycling.  Correct?  Some do not tend to think so, or even pretend to care.

Today on my commute to work, which includes the 45 minute train ride, I had a lenghty chat with someone.  As Metra's bike program gains popularity, more and more people are bringing their bikes on the train.  This morning a guy gets on with me.  Skinny, late 40s, missing some teeth, lunch sack, and blue jeans he is tying down his old orange Chicago built Schwinn step though, he says, "Man, this definatly beats paying for gas."  His accent is thick, but I am doing fairly well at understanding him when he asks about where I bought my racks on the Bianchi.  I tell him that a friend made them for me, custom.  That always seems to lead into the question about how much they cost, which I always tend to respond with a really low price.  Then he starts talking about his bike and how he got it.  "$7" "All original" "Pretty color"  Then it is back to my bike and the racks.  He likes them alot.  Then he realizes my front hub is huge and wonders why.  I tell him about the lights, and he is amazed.  We talk about sidewall generators.  Then about bike laws and tickets he has gotten for riding the wrong way down one way streets and going through red lights.  Number of gears.  Big wheeled Schwinn trikes.  Aluminnum .vs. steel.  How he has old ladies offer him bikes.  About how he doesn't like fancy bikes because they get stolen too fast.  How no one wants to steal his bike.  How much inner tubes cost, and how he thinks my tubes "with the special valves" must cost alot more since they are racing tires.  It is all sort of akward because I am working at understanding what he is saying, but none the less we talked the entire ride about cycling.  You could have at this guy down with Lance and they could have had a talk.

I am in no way a super fast all state champ proffessional super sponsored rocket cyclist, but cycling is a huge part of my life and I am good at it.  I could have been a dick; ignored him, written him off because of his appearance and given the cold shoulder, but I didn't.

I have a whole race report about the 12 hour event Cale and I won this weekend, but that will come later.