The Two-Handed Book - a book review

I am quick to say that I have only dabbled in the world of Triathlon. Geez, even THAT's a stretch; I did the cycling leg of a relay once. I didn't get wet, nor did I run two steps. Basically, I rode a time trial with other stuff going on and magic marker on my arm and leg.
Now I have to say that I'm at least considering the idea of doing a full one. (No, not a golf - surf - ride tri - an idea of mine that never caught on. I've done several.) No, a real one.
I don't recall the exact page number, but it was somewhere in the reading of Jef Mallett's "Trizophrenia" (please pronounce it like schizophrenia > Trits-oh-phrenia) that it struck me: this sounds like fun - by it's most odd and twisted definition.
Jef is a brilliant guy who isn't afraid to use the most obscure historical, scientific, or literary fact to make a point in a humorous way. His intelligence is what makes his Frazz comic strip so successful. (For example, he gets fan email from domains such as mit.edu, stanford.edu, and rpi.edu. I get email from gmail and yahoo.)
(I'm totally making some of that up. I don't get fan email.)
The wit keeps you on your toes as you read "Trizo". I marvel at how clever he is. We both name Bill Bryson as our favorite author, and I can totally see the influence. I can also see the uniqueness of Jef's writing. Good stuff.
Also keeping you on your toes - more accurately, your fingers - and the reason I call it a Two-Handed Book is because it takes two hands to read it. One hand holds the book while your other hand holds your place as you jump up and down the page to catch all of the footnotes. There are several. And they're hilarious. Worth the effort, for sure.
In a strange way, the jumping back and forth between footnotes and text is a lot like - I imagine - being a triathlete jumping back and forth between all three disciplines. Lose track of one, and your race will suffer.
There's a lot in this book. Yeah, you'd expect that from a book that covers three sports, but much more than just an explanation of what the sport is. It's a close examination of the three mindsets of an athlete that's not content with just one discipline.

I don't know who did his artwork, but it's a total rip-off of Roadie. That's all I'm going to say about that.

I haven't picked which triathlon I'm going to do this summer. I'll keep you posted.
Read the book. Pick your event. And let me know where it is.
I won't be there to watch it. I just want to know if you're able to rise to the challenge.

Red Carpet II - I have more to say.

Thank you for pointing out my omissions. I guess I got tired of writing during the previous post and just cut it short without really hitting the highs and lows. I have to return to the topic and include them for the benefit of my non-cyclist readers who shouldn't be deprived of the opportunity to marvel at the hideous designs that somehow made the jump from sketched to stitched.
Let's start at the top by starting at the bottom.
Say hello to the Footon-Servetto-Fuji team.


Wow. Where do we begin? Well, that foot logo should be placed squarely on the arse of the person who approved the design. If I were on this team, I would put all my energies into winning my country's national championship (even if I had to bribe the competition) just so I wouldn't have to wear this thing. I need to revise something that I said in the previous post. I said, "The funny thing is that when you get 160 of these jerseys together and mix them all up, they all look great."
Not with this one tossed into the mix. That's like adding cilantro to tiramisu.


Is this the 2010 Milram jersey? Really? Well, I guess when your sponsor deals in flavoured curds, cheese, as well as buttermilk and whey drinks, you're going to have stuff like this happen to your jersey.


Here's the 2010 Astana Jersey looking much less K-Marty and much more toddler pajamas-y. They're the national colors of a country I probably won't be visiting. (Who knows, maybe my boss, Mr. Mayor, will develop a Sister City relationship with a suburb of Astana.) Me? I'm much more likely to be found eating flavoured curds in Germany.


I like the colors. I was never a fan of the old CSC jersey (I'm definitely in the minority there, I promise.), so I'm glad to see Saxo Bank has taken them in a totally different direction.


Team Sky from G.B. Everyone thinks they're going to come out and kick some butt. We'll see about that.
I've heard some negative things about this design already. I happen to like it. Simple. Bold. And hopefully it will erase from our memories the image of the old EDS track team that used a very similar design. By the way, are they still in jail?
Some might suggest that there's something sinister about the heavy use of black. I suggest that the heavy use of white is nothing if not weak. Case in point (from a few years ago):


Granted, this came from a team that was left in the lurch when they lost their title sponsor. This was almost a new twist on the blank slate "Your Logo Here" campaign. Eventually, Columbia stepped up with cash and changed the design accordingly.
We can't complete this look at jerseys without revisiting some other classics from the past.


Castorama is (was?) a Euro version of Home Depot. Somehow, they felt that overalls would work well on a cycling jersey. They were wrong. This one lasted just one of two seasons which is what happens to silly designs. (Are you listening Footon-Servetto-Fuji???)


Here's the Panasonic jersey that I referenced in the previous post. It's a classic much like the 7-Eleven jersey. Two requirements that I can give for a classic to become a classic:
1. It doesn't change much from year to year, and it lasts many years.
2. They won a lot of races.
Case in point...


They won tons. They didn't change the jersey much. A modern classic.
Check me on this one. Wiki says that MAPEI stands for "Materiali Ausiliari Per l'Edilizia e l'Industria", Italian for "Auxiliary Materials for Construction and Industry". During the 1995 Tour DuPont, I had an employee tell me that it stood for Mortars, Adhesives, Polymers, Epoxies, Industry". In your face, Wikipedia!
To summarize what we've learned here:
- Flesh-colored jerseys should be outlawed like the EDS team.
- Cows should be black and white. Never blue.
- A classic is less about the design and more about the wins.
- Wikipedia can't be trusted.

Cycling's Red Carpet

Tuned in too late to catch the Red Carpet portion of the Grammy telecast on Sunday, but I can guess how it went: a flamboyant male TV host with pink hair coloring rips on some, kisses the butts of others, and generally holds court on all of the women's dresses. I thought they all looked fine. Who am I to judge fashion? Have you seen what I wear? And if Pink wants to dip herself in water and hang near-naked from the ceiling by a silk thread? I'm cool with that.
Let me assure you that if cycling had a Red Carpet, cycling fans would be quite vocal about who was hot or not.
Jersey design is a topic that nobody really talks about, but everyone has an opinion on at every level of the sport. Believe me, if your club jersey is funny looking, EVERYBODY is talking about it. Just not to your face. And if you happen to slip through the fashion wormhole and come up with a cool design, you'll hear about that.
I have a John Deere kit that I got from a team in Athens GA that makes straight men downright giggly.
Everyone has their favorites and least favorites. Here are some to ponder.

My all time favorite is the Alfa Romeo jersey from the 1980s. For me, this conjures up memories of Dan Franger/Matt Eaton/Tom Broznowski/Jeff Rutter in the Wheat Thins series. Those were the days. I was just getting into the announcing racket when this team was active.


The one that gets the most first place votes is this classic 7-Eleven jersey. Sells well on eBay. I can't even begin to name the riders who wore this one. Too many. Oh, I COULD name them all, but you don't have time.


My other all-time fave is this French-based Mondrian-esque creation that was THE jersey in 1985-86.


Just before the La Vie Claire team ruled the world, the Renault team was the cool one.
I'm skipping the Peugot kit and the Panasonic kit in favor of this favorite. Just the color of it says unconventional. I've been waiting to start a team of my own just so I can resurrect this shade of green.


I was working a race in Lancaster PA in 1990 when our host drove us past a bike shop that had one of these hanging in the front window. We stopped. I bought it. I still have it. No ma'am, it don't fit me no mo'.
OK, so let's bring out the current jersey designs. Like 'em or not, we're stuck with them all season.


A lot of people LOVE the argyle of the Garmin-Transitions kit. They sell a lot of them at the Expo area. There's not that much change from previous year's design save the "Transitions" sponsor name on the chest. When they first came out with the argyle motif, people snickered. The team rocked, and now argyle is the new houndstooth.


Aside from the flip flop in sponsors (HTC will appear over Columbia in '10), this team changed little in their kit design. They're down to just four American riders in 2010. (2 men, 2 women) But they still have the Manx Missile Mark Cavendish which made this jersey the fastest one on the road in 2009. It'll appear in a lot of race finish photos - usually with a guy with his hands in the air.
I'm not crazy about the faux abs painted on the front, but do you think I'm going to take that up with Stapleton?


Bold. I like the darkness. It reminds me very much of an old local jersey in the Detroit area. (The background looks like Lake Superior, but I'm told it's a pond out west. The kind you can't drink.) This team kind of exploded this year - in a good way. Going big was in their strategic plan. This is the year that they really made the jump by signing several big names in the game. This jersey design is also a striking move. I would say it's much more bold than....


...THIS. When Radio Shack announced their involvement in the Lance Continuum, everyone wondered what the jersey would look like. The mistake these people made was to believe that a big name and a big budget would mean a big design. So far, the reaction to this ... dare I call it a design?... has been luke warm. I've always been against the use of grey in a cycling jersey. Who wants to match the color of the road? Of course, some will love it because of who is wearing it. It's not in my top five. You can form your own opinion. Perhaps it'll last as long as their batteries. I'll give you this: it's marginally better than...


a-sta-NA. Did you know that, in Kazakhstan, they pronounce it with the emphasis on the NA? Weird, huh? Look at me stall for time while I try to find something nice to say about this KMart looking jersey. ... ... ... I got nothin'. Never liked it. Can't lie to ya.


At the Tour of California Expo area, the team camp with the busiest souvenir booth was Rock Racing. Always 10x as busy as Garmin or any of the others. Contrary to what you might think, people weren't standing in line waiting to buy a Team Type One jersey. I can't figure out why. Rock Racing was the hot item last year.
I haven't seen Rock's 2010 design yet. I think they're more concerned with getting licensed to race than designing a winning jersey. We'll cut them some slacks.
Get it? Slacks?
Rock Racing is sponsored by Rock 'n Republic Jeans.
( long pause )
OK
...moving on...

OK, this is the last one. Cervelo. Distinctive, I guess. People like it. Basically, it's the logo for the bike manufacturer placed on a black jersey. Easy to find in the peloton. Cycling fans recognize it quickly. This design would probably make me look thinner, so I should probably be a big fan. Unfortunately, I'm just big.
As a cycling fan and race announcer, I've seen a LOT of jerseys. Tons. And as a club member, I've tried my hand at jersey design. It's not easy. What looks good on paper doesn't look good on a body. Some jerseys have been memorable (GS Mengoni, Saturn, Subaru Montgomery, Wheaties-Schwinn, etc.) Some have been forgettable (Sunkyong AKC, Montgomery Bell, Monex, ScotBiKyle, Kelly Benefits, first year of USPostal). The sponsor's corporate colors and logo have a lot to say about it. And the final product is usually the result of a focus group committee that met through internet conference calls comprising of people that have never been to a bike race.
Singularly, we can scrutinize them like dresses on the Red Carpet. The funny thing is that when you get 160 of these jerseys together and mix them all up, they all look great.
I guess we should just be thankful not to have to see George Hincapie dipped in water and hanging near-naked from the ceiling by a silk thread and singing.
Have a favorite? Post a comment?
Can't get that image of George hanging in the rafters out of your head? Sorry.

Perspective

"Too much bloody perspective." (<<< another line from that classic movie Spinal Tap.)
We go about our lives quite routinely. Everything in its place and time. I wake up at 7:50a. I run through the shower. I sit on the kitchen counter eating Grape Nuts (which are neither grapes or nuts). I arrive to work, usually late but before the boss. I work. I come home from work, I go to the gym, I come home, I write (or I stare at blank pages). I cook some sort of edible substance that passes for food. I look at my bike sitting on the trainer begging to be ridden. I look away. I laugh at how much money I spent on the trainer. If it's Thursday I watch an hour of TV. I go to bed.
We take it all for granted. Groceries. Book stores. Bike shops. Sushi at that place downtown.
This week, I'm forced to take time off for reasons that aren't really important, but it involved anesthesia, an incision, and a gown - not in that order. As a result, I'm sitting on my arse watching Netflix and staring at blank pages. My training regimen derailed, I'm looking at a gaping hole in my training calendar.
This is the time of year when every serious Roadie should be hitting it hard in preparation for the upcoming season. There's an adage that says, "Winter is for fitness; Summer is for fun." Well, it's winter, and I'm having neither fitness nor fun. And like any typical Roadie, I'm imagining/fretting that every other racer is becoming Arnold freakin' Schartzeneger during this 'off season' and will crush me like a worm at the first race of the 'on season' which begins seven weeks from now.
I've had some friends complain about catching a cold that puts them out of action for a few days.
Well, all it takes is one quick look at any news outlet for a dose of perspective: Haiti.

(photos of the people of Haiti taken by my brother, David)
I've never really been in an Earthquake (see story below). I can only imagine what it's like to have your house shaken like a polaroid picture and discarded. In Haiti, routines will take many months to restore... if you live.
Snap back to reality. My four days on the couch are embarrassingly minor when compared to 4 days trapped under the rubble that was once your house.
It shouldn't take a major catastrophe to remind us of these things.

My one and only experience with an earthquake: San Francisco, 1994. I'm in the hotel lobby at 5am to catch a shuttle to the airport. As I'm checking out, the man with a heavy accent behind the counter asks me, "deed you feel air-di-quate?"
I thought he said, 'did I feel adequate?' as in, did I sleep OK? Hmm that's a funny way to ask it, but I got it. I try hard to understand people who speak funny, so I was happy that I figured it out quickly without making him repeat it. I dismissively said, "Yeah, Everything was fine."
No, he asked it again with emphasis on the Air-di-quate?
Long pause.
Ooooh, earthquake! Yeah. No, I didn't feel it.
Apparently, it was the kind of shaker that rousts everyone from their room and into the hallway.
I slept right through it, and now must rely on my imagination to know how horrible it must be to literally have your world come crashing down around you.
A week off the bike is no big deal. Even in February.

Zirbel

So here we are again with a rider that everyone liked getting dragged into the torture chamber. The news came out recently that NRC Champion Tom Zirbel's "B sample" tested positive for a big fancy pharmaceutical word: Dehydroepiandrosterone. That confirms the negative result on his "A sample" which pretty much seals his fate for the next two years: his name will be surrounded by question marks; his life will be surrounded by nothing that looks like a bike race. Nobody in this sports wins an appeal against USADA, so the rider with one of the best attitudes and brightest futures will likely serve a two year suspension.
His accomplishments from the past season are for nought despite his protestations of innocence.
(Photo by Dan Socie - Zirbel riding the Grand Rapids Criterium)
And every columnist/reporter/observer is saying the same thing: how can this happen? How can a professional athlete make a conscious decision to ingest a banned substance? OR, if it was unintentional, how can a professional athlete not know what he's putting in his body? They're also asking "Why Tom Zirbel, of all people?"
There is a supposed financial reward if you don't get caught, but the amount of testing these riders go through in - and OUT - of competition makes it almost impossible to slip through the cracks. (For example, if you win-place-show in a big race, you'll be ushered straight into the Medical Control RV that's parked a few feet away from the podium. Nobody hides from the testers if they're carrying a silver medal at the national championships.) And the risk far outweighs the reward; you'd have to be an idiot to think you could get away with it. (Zirbel has even said as much.)
So into the torture chamber he goes. In his prime at the age of 30, Zirbel will miss two valuable years of peak earnings. He will give back his silver medal and NRC title. He will live under the shadow of doubt as cycling fans ask: did he or didn't he?
If he did, shame on him. If he didn't, shame on the flawed system.
And that's a question that should get equal footing. What if he's telling the truth? At what point do we re-evaluate the system to ensure that it's not broken? That so many people are questioning the outcome of these tests heightens my curiosity.
Why, even four years after the fact, are so many people in the cycling world still not believing that Floyd was guilty in 2006? And why do people stop talking altogether when Lance's name is mentioned?
The whole thing is curious.

"It goes to eleven."

Another famous movie line from yet another famous movie that every decent upstanding American has seen countless times...
In this instance, it applies to eleven speed shifting.
I'm just putting this out there now: I'm never switching to 11-speed.
I see no compelling reason to switch. Why bother?
In the comment box,
1. Convince me otherwise in 25 words or less.
2. Name the movie referenced in the Post Title.
3. Tell me how many times you've seen the movie.
If you haven't seen the movie yet, I laugh at you with vigor.
Last minute addition:
4. Tell everyone your favorite quote.
Here's mine: "I envy us."

"Put THAT In Your Book"

Quick. Name the movie.
I'll give you a minute to think about it. Here's a hint: Costner imitates a buffalo
I've been repeating that line a lot lately as I put together a story for the book that I'm currently working on. The ideas come when when they come. I don't really control them. They come to me. I say to myself, 'put that in your book'. I collect them in a mental sack and type them up when I get to my keyboard. Some of them come to me just as I'm going to sleep. Some come to me when I'm at the gym. I love when an idea comes to me during a staff meeting at work. My co-workers see me frantically jotting down something in my notebook, and they assume it's work-related.
It's work. And it's related, but not to them.
So what kind of book is it?
It's not a how-to book.
It's not a history of cycling book.
It's not a war-stories book.
It's definitely not a sequel to Roadie.
It's a 'tweener. It's aimed at the younger reader from 10 to 15 - a tough market that VeloPress has yet to crack with any measurable success. And I think I'm the one who can do it, even if I don't have any characters who are vampires.
I'm happy to report that I'm finally rolling on it. I sat on three of four pages for several of months as I was developing characters, carving out a story line, and inserting a lesson or two. I'm up to 40 pages now and have the outline laid out for almost the whole story. I'm still leaving room for plot twists and character revelations. And I hold out hope that I'll stumble upon a workable conclusion sometime between now and when I finish the damn thing.
No, I'm not going to divulge the plot line here. It's about bike racing. That's all you get right now. What you can do for me in the meantime is start making a list of every kid you know in that age range, and get ready to buy them a book for Christmas 2010.
I hope to have it completed by March for a Fall release...that is, if VeloPress likes it. If not, I'll have 250 pages of electronic recycling material.
Dances With Wolves. The title of this post. It's a line from that movie.
Put THAT in your book.
Ironically, somewhere in that same scene, the same character delivers this classic line: 'why don't he write?'.
He don't write because he's probably trying to come up with a storyline.

Side note: Dances With Wolves is the same basic premise as Avatar: soldier goes out to the frontier to study the locals. Becomes one of them. Fights against his own army. Dances With Wolves had better music. And as you know, music is a drug.