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Team Slipstream diaryThroughout the year, Cyclingnews will feature a regular Team Journal from Team Slipstream/Chipotle, with entries from various members of the squad, who will share their experiences and feelings of competing in North America and Europe. Cyclingnews is proud to be a supporting sponsor of Team Slipstream/Chipotle, providing some of North America's most promising cyclists with a great opportunity to develop as riders, racing among some of the world's top racers in professional events.April 8, 2007Overcoming pansyitisBy Lucas Euser There are times in a professional cyclists life when we start becoming a little too complacent with our daily jobs and lifestyle. We begin to take what we do just a tad bit for granted. It happens to the best of us, and I'm willing to bet it happens to you in whatever lifestyle you have chosen. Hitting the cruise control button is always an easy option, but it doesn't always work when battling traffic, and those other people who are willing to go the extra mile faster than you are. I've realized recently that the second one starts becoming complacent with their job, their performance starts to show it. I didn't do this on purpose, but my head had gotten the better of me. I had truly forgotten what it was like to suffer, what it was like to go fast, turn off the pain, and go to a place we like to call the hurt locker, the pain cave, suffer street, or whatever special name you have for it. The only thing I was focusing on was why I was hurting so bad and going so slow, therefore causing to me to even go slower. For awhile there I was taking what I did for granted, I subconsciously was content with where I was in my career, and I was mentally giving up long before my body was. I was in what I call a funk. I had dug myself a hole and I was comfortably curled up at the bottom of it with pajamas, warm milk and honey, and my blankey. I had officially become a pansy. What better way to cure pansyitis than to throw my pathetic 130 pound butt into a snow storm and say race your damn bike. Yes folks I'm talking about the inaugural US Open running from Williamsburg to Richmond, Virginia. We woke up to three inches of snow on the ground, more snow that the area had seen all year long. Te last time it snowed this much was in 1990, at least that's what the taxi driver to the airport told me. Hell, I'll take it; I couldn't believe what was going on. Three days prior it was 80 degrees. Across the street from our hotel they had already cancelled the collegiate track meet that was taking place, and the runners that were congregating around us in lobby were baffled at how were going to race in snowy conditions with such small tires. Since the promoters had done so much work and were in "the show must go on" sort of mood, there was no chance of canceling the race and the only reason for the postponement wasn't for the riders safety, but was because they couldn't get the helicopters in the air. I hope most of you caught the race on NBC and/or at least read the race report on Cyclingnews, so I won't go into too much detail about the actual race. Although I have to give credit where credit is due and truly congratulate Pat McCarty for making the race. His perfectly timed attack, which came about 30 seconds prior to Jonathon Vaughters telling him to do so in the radio, was just that, perfect. Everyone talks about experience, this was experience used to it's fullest. Pat knew it was his turn and he didn't hesitate. From the gun the US Open was game on. Attacks didn't stop until we crossed the finish line 112 miles later. Usually in a race you can have a chat or two with some friends, when the race has lulled a little, but not here. I'm usually a talkative fellow, but I only got one sentence in the entire race. I remember looking over to someone and saying, "Damn, this is a real bike race, isn't it." Aside from the Belgian National team, it had all the makings of a true European Spring gutter fest. I have to thank the US Open for reminding me what it was like to truly race my bike, to dig beyond what my mind says I can do, and to yet again find comfort in pain and suffering. It only took a snow storm and 112 miles of pain, but I feel like a new man. Granted for a while there it was an arthritic, 60 year old man, but nonetheless I am cured of my pansyitis and am ready to conquer the world. See ya‘ll at Georgia, this time with teeth and nails and not milk and honey. |
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