Alaskan Pack Fodder

I jumped in a crit tonight. I wasn't dropped. Despite what the results may say, I call that a win.   I hung in there, mixed it up when the urge struck me, and most importantly, finished with the front group. That's all I wanted to do.    I have to be honest with myself. I've been gaining weight and bleeding fitness while the competition has been putting in the miles and putting down the fork. I'm not the rider I was last year, and he's not the rider I was the year before... I can track about a five year decline in Training Peaks (if I had the energy or motivation to do so), and this last year has probably been the most signficant dip. At a certain point, you can't fake it anymore with douchy wheelsucking and a mind for kindergarten-level race tactics. You have to have something in the legs and the will to mix it up with the pack between the ears. The last crit I entered, I had neither. This one? I dunno. Maybe it was the luck of the draw or the mostly fl...

In less than a month I lost 10 pounds. That would be great, except it wasn't planned and not exactly healthy. I basically stopped eating and sleeping from a combination of heat and stress. When I actually try to lose weight through diet and exercise, I can sustain a loss of about a pound a week over several months. This was something different.    When I got home, I slept for most of two days. I started eating again. I gained back some of the weight. Oh well, can't win them all.    Still, I'm trying to make the most out of this. I still am way too fat, only slightly less so. I'm trying to get out and ride as much as I can stand, without trying to train for anything in particular. I may line up for another crit or two while I'm home to get my teeth kicked in properly. I need it. I deserve it.    It's a work in progress, one without any clear idea of what it's supposed to look like when I'm done with it. Maybe I'll get in some sort of race shape ...

I've been trying to make myself hurt.    I used to be quite good at it. Not the falling down kind of hurt. That came later. The kind of hurt where you bury yourself in an effort, ignoring all of the signals to back off or stop. I used to know how to ignore them. These days? They dictate my riding. I'm a slug.    So, I have to work my way back into it.    For the past month I've been at a radar site near McGrath, Alaska. Friends of mine that ride fat bikes know it as a waypoint along the ITI course. That's in the winter. Right now it's not at all like that. For one thing, there are four major wildfires in the area. Lots of smoke. Today visibility was less than 1/4 mile. Great for the lungs, even indoors. Then there's the temperature which has been around 90F for over a week. If everything wasn't already burning to the ground around me, the oppressive heat would just torch it. And me.    I grew up where temperatures were...