In honour of a discussion between Holmovka, Pablo, Jen and Willj in the "First Races" thread, and with a very bonk-friendly race coming up on Sunday, I thought I'd create this post, in which I cordially invite you to recount the story of your first or worst bonk. I'll get things rolling . . .

This wasn't my first, but it was my worst. And it wasn't in a bike race, it was in an x-c ski race, well kind of an x-c ski gran fondo or sportive, which in skiing they call "loppets." Here's the thing: I wasn't even doing the full distance (52km), I was only doing the half-loppet (26km). It was in a hilly region just outside of Ottawa. I'd just gotten back into skiing after many years of not doing any skiing at all, I can't remember why. Anyways, it's cold (about -12C) and windy, but I figure I'll be warming up soon, so I decide not to wear gloves. (Did I mention I'd just gotten back into skiing after a long layoff? I should also mention that I had about 4 weeks of training in me.) There are literally thousands of people there -- it's Canada's entry in the world loppet series, there are people from all over the world. So, the gun goes off for my wave, and I immediately sprint to the front! I'm thinking, this is only going to take around 1.5 hours, I might as well go hard the whole way, I'd be fine doing that in a 1.5 hour bike ride.

We get to the first rest stop, where volunteers are handing out cups of tea, bananas, etc . . . and I storm right through. I almost want to yell "tassez-vous" -- get out of the way! in Quebec French -- I'm feeling so good! It's mostly flat at the beginning, but when the hills start, I'm fine, I've been training in a very hilly region. Then, at some point, I realize I'm all alone . . . it's just me and a teenage girl, who's skiing strong, her form is great.

We ski side by side for a while, up and down the hills, and I'm thinking, "she's strong, it's everything I can do to keep up with her," but I'm holding my own. The downhills are the best, I'm able to distance her a bit on the downhills, all I hear is the "whooosh" of skis on snow. We're double-poling in beautiful symmetry: her, then me, then her, like clockwork. Fatigue starts to set in, but I'm thinking that we must be close to the finish, or so my body is telling me.

Then we come around a corner, and there's a sign that says something like "12km to go"! My whole body stiffens up, teenage girl immediately drops me, and I suddenly realize how tired I am. Also, how cold I am. Also, I haven't brought any water -- for some reason I got it into my mind that for a 26km bike ride, I wouldn't really need water, how different can it be for skiing . . .

Suffice it to say that I barely made it to the finish line (took about an hour longer than I thought it would), that my hands almost fell off from cold, that all the people I passed passed me back. But the best part was at the end. I see the line, hear the roar of the crowd (there actually was a roar of sorts -- despite the cold, there were plenty of people cheering us on), I look at the faces of the spectators, and notice that as they see me, they go from smiling to looking aghast. As I get to the line, a race official comes over, looks at me, and says "hey buddy are you ok?" I look at him, what a strange question, I think, and I try to say "I'm fine," but instead I say "ahturoughttt," to which he responds by yelling at another official: "Hey get a stretcher for this guy!" I somehow manage to tell him "Iwoneedastretcha," so he and the other official put my arms (I can barely feel my arms anymore, for about the last 8km I basically held them at my side and used only my legs) around their shoulders and take me to the first aid room.

In the first aid room there is an overly chatty doctor. "Have some coke! It's the best thing for people who bonk! Did you know that in every can of coke there are 12 teaspoons of sugar? It's crazy! Imagine how much sugar most Coke-drinkers ingest in a day! Boggles the mind doesn't it?" At some point, when he's off tending to someone else, I get to my feet, grab my skis, and leave.

At the bus stop (a friend has dropped me off in the morning, but she isn't able to pick me up), I meet a Swiss man. I learn that he is twice my age, and that he has done the full distance. "How did it go?" I ask. "Great," he says. "Too cold for skiing though." "Yeah," I respond. Then I look down at my feet. At some point, the bus comes ;)

I saw the author of this article (from Oct 2011 issue of The Atlantic) interviewed tonight on the news and thought people might find the article interesting.  Branch, a civil rights historian, is getting into the debate about whether college athletes should be paid.  What's interesting is how strongly worded his argument is.  Here's the prime example:

The NCAA makes money, and enables universities and corporations to make money, from the unpaid labor of young athletes. 

Slavery analogies should be used carefully. College athletes are not slaves. Yet to survey the scene—corporations and universities enriching themselves on the backs of uncompensated young men, whose status as “student-athletes” deprives them of the right to due process guaranteed by the Constitution—is to catch an unmistakable whiff of the plantation. Perhaps a more apt metaphor is colonialism: college sports, as overseen by the NCAA, is a system imposed by well-meaning paternalists and rationalized with hoary sentiments about caring for the well-being of the colonized. But it is, nonetheless, unjust. The NCAA, in its zealous defense of bogus principles, sometimes destroys the dreams of innocent young athletes.

Anyways, hope you enjoy.

I'll start by saying I don't mean this to be sarcastic.  Let me explain.  I'm an absolute putz on the bike.  Sure, I ride, even pretend to ride with the fast guys once in a while . . . until the road goes up.  Or, until someone decides to attack.  Or, until someone decides he doesn't like the look of me, and decides to leave me in the dust.

But where I really suck is on the descents!  I'm "naturally faster" than the really skinny guys, but as soon as things get technical, I'm terrible!  I go so slow that people get mad when they pass me, and I still almost fall off in every corner!

That's why watching Jonathan Hivert today was kind of great.  Here's this pro - a bloody good one, too (take a look at his palmarès) - who kind of looked like me going downhill!  Usually these guys seem like gods to me . . . but later today, when I go for a ride, I might actually believe that I'm engaging in an activity similar to the one they do every day.

So thank you Jonathan.  I luv you man.  Really I do.

Just read this story at the Strib (by M. Medcalf) titled "Tubby: D Joseph's status with Gophers uncertain," and apparently it's more than just the leg injury: "Smith said Monday that there was more to his decision than Joseph's health."  Very cryptic...anyone know what's up?  --  Ah, the 75 word thing.  "I hadn't heard anything about this."  "I wonder what's going on."  "Go Gophers."  "Man, I luv ice cream."  "Cotty can!"  OK now let's see.

I'm writing this post way too early, but I wanted to make some fragmentary jottings about the upcoming Montreal Pro Tour race.  First thing I want to say is this: this race both is and isn't new.  It's new because, well duh, it's new.  It isn't new because it will be run on the exact same course as the old Grand Prix des Amériques (source), a world cup race held in Montreal between 1988 and 1992.

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Just came across this story in The Guardian and thought I'd post it here, since it's kind of a hot topic these days: men in "mid-life crisis" stage buying expensive bicycles, where 20 years ago they'd have bought sports cars.  Saw a similar article recently in the NY Times, where they called cycling "the new golf."  Anyways, personally I find it kind of interesting, especially since I'm in the right age group.  Usually my thoughts are along the lines of the third commenter, who says "I've been a keen cyclist since my youth."  Still, given this trend, I can't help but wonder sometimes what's driving my own passion to ride.  Anyways, interesting trend, interesting story.

Thought I'd piggyback onto Mr Van P's Armstrong post.  I kind of hate to post this because it's purely speculative - I have no knowledge of what's going on inside the team's or the sponsor's head.  Worse, by asking this it could appear that I'm assuming the sponsor will bail.  That's not my intention though.  I guess what I mean to ask is this: given that this looks like it's going to be a pretty disappointing season for them, where do they go from here?

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Of the ten spies arrested yesterday, five were caught wearing vertical red and white striped shirts.  One was a Japanese man with Brazilian origins.  One can't be named but his initials are Simão Sabrosa, and he started the whole tight shirt thing way back in the day.  One looks Irish and plays in the Premiership but swears he's Spanish.  Seven speak Guaraní, in addition to Russian, American and Canadian.  Several have dyed blond hair.