Having missed Saturday's road race, I was more determined than ever to not-miss Team Type 1 at Sunday's criterium. Since a criterium pretty much stays in one place (think of it as racing twenty times around the block to see who's fastest), even if I missed the start, I should manage to catch up with the team somewhere.

  (READ MORE)

While the title of this post is a play on the French "Poisson d'Avril" ("April Fools" is called "April Fish"), there's nothing funny about it.

We've heard about folk stealing one or more of Lance Armstrong's bikes, but a whole team's bicycles -- and not just that, but also their spares, parts, and tools?

  (READ MORE)

"If you miss the train I'm on, you will know that I am gone..."

Unlike the melancholy wanderer in the Hedy West song, my cycling computer was at my right hand as I logged in yesterday's ride (to the doctor's office in one direction, then the supermarket in the opposite direction), and as I scrolled past the odometer, it read 512.4 (miles) -- which was approximately the distance I'd ridden since January first. Now, I'm nowhere fast enough to be part of someone's "lead-out train" at the end of a bicycle race -- much less fast enough to consider having others lead me out. Heck, I'm not even fast enough to consider racing the average ten-year-old (I think). But plugging away at it, bit by bit -- errand by errand -- group ride by group ride (OK, there've only been three of those so far, and during none have I been able to keep with the group) -- I've ridden over five hundred miles, this year alone. (READ MORE)

Now that the cold weather is here in full swing, getting out and about is as much a struggle of the mind against the elements as it is of the body. Part of it is a matter of peripheral circulation issues; part of it is a matter of equipment and gear. Since the Dolce is a lot more serious a vehicle than the old Excelle was, I need more "technical" apparel to ride it comfortably. In addition to my new headlight and a replacement helmet, my December purchases included a winter cycling jacket, hat and balaclava, a couple of long-sleeved jerseys, a second pair of tights, and some better-fitting shorts.

  (READ MORE)

Now that spring has finally sprung, it's time for me to get my training into high gear for the June 13 Tour de Cure. While I haven't been completely off my bicycle, I've been a bit hesitant to ride for anything but necessity during the winter, and I've been avoiding the snow. As a result, my mileage has mostly been down from November through February, with few rides exceeding 15-20 miles or challenging me in any other way, shape, or form. While my mileage picked up a bit in March, I also had a lot of family issues that kept me out of town and/or off my wheels. Despite that, I managed to log 143 miles for March.

  (READ MORE)

I am a fan of Team Type 1. To be able to perform at top levels of competition despite a medical condition that can leave one droping with hyperglycemic fatigue one minute, and fighting for balance due to hypoglycemia the next, requires an incredible amount of attention, perserverence, and skill in addition to one's natural talents. Imagine doing this while traveling at 30 to 60 miles an hour, precariously perched on two continuously moving patches of less than one square inch apiece, all the while jockeying for position in a crowd of cyclists all trying to be first, or fastest -- or to keep everyone else from going fast -- and you have some idea of the challenging task these men and women have chosen.

  (READ MORE)