Pretty gentle weekend all in all. Did the House of Pain ride on Saturday and fared okay. The usual shenanigans were tempered a bit as people were saving themselves for Mt. Hamilton or destinations north. At one point I saw Lieto move to the front going up Collier and I thought, "oh for goodness--although I didn't say "goodness"--sakes, here we go." But he just kind of soft pedalled up there and the pace stayed pert near easy. Like the rest of the weekend. It's nice when the rats flee the city and leave it to the rest of us. The Bay Area as it was meant to be. The above is some hot action from my driveway.

Had one of those great workouts today that make you happy to be alive. I did 2 and a half at lunchtime with about and hour and 40 minutes in the tempo zone. Heavy cadence, HR about 150, wind in all directions, temps around 75, legs burning, and thoughts of racing coursing through my veins. Can't wait to see where all this work gets me come the next mountain bike race in Utah come the middle of June.

With a little bit of time, I thought we'd reach in to the mail bag:

Johnny-
Love the site. My question is this: do you think it a little odd that you answer mythical mail? I mean, you have no mail bag, there is nobody writing in with these questions, don't you think people will think you are weird? Chieko Kakihana--Alamo, California

Hey Sugar-
Thanks for writing in. For those of you that don't know, Chieko is my wife. She'd be more recognizable if she could put down the Gloria Steinem autobiography for just a second, but where was I? Right...answering mail. Ummmm....no Chieko, you're the only one that thinks I'm weird. Which makes you weirder for marrying me in the first place. So neaner-neaner-neaner.

Johnny-
Long time reader, fantastic site by the way. As you know, I fell on my face at Madera. Literally. Any suggestions on what not to do in the future? Steve Griffiths--Granite Bay, California

Hey Griff-
Hear you are feeling better and your wife reports that you've been putting in some three hour rides. Seeing how just a couple of weeks ago you could barely move faster than a shuffle, I'd say you're making some quick progress. To get back to your question, I'd advise staying off your face during the sprint. Although I'm no one to talk when it comes to throwing myself on the ground for no apparent reason. I still get a great chuckle out of the part where you asked your teammates to make sure you got credit for finishing so that you could start the road race the next day. Giving them detailed instructions while laying there in a gigantic puddle of your own blood. That's the stuff of legends.

You've been a great audience, stay that way.

Johnny GoFast

Hey Man, back from the Bahamas. Our travel day on Wednesday had so much blog material coming at me, I have been unable to find the words to accurately describe it all. I'm sure I will get to it eventually. So I talked to the Griffociraptor last week about the hotel in the Bahamas where we eventually ended up. He was out there last year for a junket thing and relayed all sorts of useful information regarding my impending experience. At one point he said that he saw Bruce Springsteen hanging by the pool. I asked him if he yelled out anything clever like, "hey Bruce...this is my home town." Or, "I was born in the USA too." Griff said no. So I went to the hotel with the soul intention of outdoing Griff. We here at Beatsgriffracing are totally committed to complete and total domination. This is not simply limited to the bike. Anyway, I'm cruising along and I come upon this absolute mountain of a man. At first I had no idea who he was but I saw a hotel employee shake his hand so I asked him who he was. He told me it was Shaq. Shortly thereafter he turned around and sure enough, it was the man. He's huge. I wanted to tell him I loved his work in Kazaam, but I whimped out. Still, I think my celeb kicks the crap out of Griffs. More to follow but in the meantime, stay happy.

Johnny GoFast

Did you know that the Bahamas have over 700 islands? I didn't know that until yesterday. I'm here for work. So yesterday we landed after an overnight flight to Atlanta with a connection into Grand Bahama Island. As the lady was stamping my passport she said, "the Atlantis is a very nice hotel. Did you know that it is on a different island?" Jaw dropped, face lost all color, panic quickly coursing through my veins when she offered, "it is no problem. Go to the domestic terminal and take a local plane over to Nassau. They go all the time." And so we did and we got in a little later than planned. So now you and I both know that the Bahamas have more than one major island that can land big jets.

The best thing yesterday is witnessing my brother let some lady have it in the Atlanta airport. Apparently he doesn't like people who cut in line. I'm sure most of us find that annoying but Matthew takes it up a level. Before we could get on the plane, we had to get our ID and more specifically our passports checked. There was the typical backup as we shuffled through the process. Well this lady tried to get on the plane skipping the one step we all were in the process of complying with. She turned and moved into the line just behind my brother. There were maybe 10 people she was cutting in front of. It was then that Matthew turned to her and said, "hey lady...you're bustin' the line!" She refused but most of the people chuckled and didn't see it as a big deal. "People that cut suck," he said loud enough for her to hear. Beauty. Hope you are well and that you don't cut in front of my brother.

Johnny GoFast

Johnny GoFast

Big day yesterday. It being Mother's Day and all and I somehow managed to avoid the knife that was hurled at me first thing when I feigned ignorance. And then the addition of the old, "shouldn't you do more mothering on Mother's Day," only added to the already tense situation. In the end, my wife got everything she could have hoped for including:

1) An Alley Cat bike extension thing for the girl.

2) A bike ride down to Hap Magee Park with a quick snack stop at the 7-11.

3) Lunch at Pete's Brass Rail.

4) A massage.

5) Two buckets of folded laundry.

6) BMXin' with the boy and his cousin at the BMX park (see above).

7) Swim and family time with my two brothers, sisters in laws, and assorted wee ones at Del Amigo pool.

By the time everything was said and done, my butt hit the couch at 9pm. Too late to call my own darn mother and wish her the happiness. With the guilt, I plunged the knife Chieko was too kind to spare on me earlier in the day straight into my abdomen. What a donkey, I am.

So on Saturday I raced the Berkeley Hill Road Race for the first time. A race I'm not too ashamed to admit that I've been a little fearful of for sometime. I do a lot of training out on those open, windswept, hilly ass hills, and they humble me constantly. I've often wondered what a race on them would be like. Well this weekend I got my chance. I rode over to the course early (so pro) to get my warm up in. I thought I knew the shortcut but I didn't and ended up getting lost and blowing about 10 minutes in the process (not pro at all). Luckily the race was running a bit behind schedule so I got there in time to reg and pin the number. I was feeling a bit off as I was fighting off something last week. It could also have something to do with the amount of efforts I've been putting forth lately and my body is just plain old tired. I was in this for the training and to help a couple of guys win, so I didn't have a whole lot of pressure on me anyway. The first lap was kind of uneventful save for the dude that rolled off the front with another in tow. "Three laps, wind, hills, no chance," I thought. On the second lap I moved to the front and started pulling in earnest. There was some well intentioned souls up there, but we couldn't really organize the whole paceline thing. One guy would rip through gapping the group and the guy behind him. The next guy would pull through and slow too much. I'd be on the front for what seemed like an unfair amount of time, etc. After about a half hour of this non-sense, I was spent and retreated to the back with my tail between my legs. Some San Jose guy finally killed any hope with his wild flailing about antics. He was whipping his arm around trying to detail exactly how a paceline was supposed to work. And he tried desperately to rally the troops and efforts by pointing out who wasn't working and lambasting others and their efforts. I couldn't take it and frankly I was concerned that the guy was going to take himself and others out, so I moved away from him. He looked like he knew what he was talking about for sure (maybe he is in that sub category Pro-Cat 4). Anyway, like I said, I sucked and went to the back where I was certain at any moment I'd be dropped. The third lap was more of the same with me struggling along on the back. The last time up the Mama Bear, I was surprised that I was still in the mix. At the top, there was a little shuffling going on, and two San Jose guys along with two ZteaM guys and a couple of free agents rolled off the front. I had enough to go with it with the intention of representing the Peg's until the peloton caught up. One of our protected riders came across and at that point, seeing that we had numbers and a good climber, I went to the front and did the old drill it and flame out routine. Twice. Apparently it was enough to get us over those baby rollers before the Papa Bear as the peloton never caught back on. I pedalled at the back up the finishing climb telling my self I would stay with the group until we were caught. They never came through so I had to go pretty hard. Our guy couldn't go with the finishing surge out of a ZteaM guy, but he held off all the others to get third. I came in seventh happy to be done and happy to have helped if not a little. Anyway, happy to have raced and slayed the beast. A little time off from racing due to some upcoming dates on the dirt out of state. Hope you are well and that you all had a good Mother's Day.

Johnny GoFast

A bit delayed in getting this report to you, but rest assured, I am back from Fontana. Fontana is one of those wonderful places in that it is wonderful when you leave. Had a good race and like I said in my previous post, the trails are really fun to ride. I ended up fourth at this one. It was an eye popping affair with some pretty intense climbing. I tried to bridge up to the leaders on the third and final lap and paid dearly. I ended up crashing and then basically fell apart on my way to the finish line. 4th place passed me without about five minutes to go. Somehow I rallied to stay on his wheel, but I flailed up the last little hill and that is all she wrote. Managed to increase my lead for the overall series, so I was happy with that. I am also happy that I tried to get up to the leaders knowing full well that I was draining the tank too far from the finish line. Without a victory in the series, I feel like my season is a bit incomplete. Going into the year, however, I would have taken a top five in any of these races, so I'm more than happy about the way things have gone. With two races to go, I'm excited about where I sit.

The wifeage gets a little mad at me sometimes due to my competitive nature. She doesn't get the whole winning is better than losing thing. I must confess that I am not a great loser. As far back as I can remember, I've always wanted to win. My first year playing baseball was a real eye opener. Up until that point, I had always been successful when it came to sports. Baseball was new to me, and I struggled. So much so, that after striking out one time, I threw my helmet on the ground in disgust. The helmet broke and I was lambasted by the coach. I was more pissed than embarrassed. Later I learned to control that anger and frustration, but just barely. After every defeat in almost every sport at some point I would cry. One time after a football loss that knocked us out of any playoff hope, I was found crying in the locker room. I remember one of my teammates asking me what my problem was and I responded amidst the sobs that we now officially sucked. I'm not proud of the fact that I can't eat my emotions like others, but I'm also not all that embarrassed either. I think the fear of losing is just as big of a motivator for me as the pleasure of winning.

From time to time I see that spirit in my children and I have to admit, it makes me happy. Sometimes, when I want them to do my bidding, I make a race or competition out of what ever it is that I want them to do. The girl is pretty crafty in that she will throw obstacles in front of the boy or pull or push him to get to the goal more quickly. While the boy will protest, she continues relentlessly toward the objective. She doesn't always win, but it's not due to a lack of effort. When the boy loses, look out. He'll burst into tears and sometimes throw, kick or punch the nearest thing. It's one of those moments as a parent that you need to be stern and exact in the way you deal with the situation, all the while not smiling from ear to ear. It makes me happy that both my children want to win and do their best. I think it will serve them well in life. My wife hates that I foster that behavior. Of course, back in college, she was on a two time national championship rowing team. Although she says she's not competitive, you don't obtain that objective without a little desire to win. Anyway, hope you are well.

Johnny GoFast

Well greetings from Fontana and the Norba National #3. Wish you were here if for no other reason than to confirm that this is the most unusual racing venue known to the sport. Ask anyone what they think of when you mention mountain biking and no doubt they will wax poetic about mountains and trees and blue skies and stream crossings and animals crossing their path until eventually you tune them out. It's a little different down here. The course is carved out of some hard scrabble land that was cast off by I don't know whom. They must have been pretty particular because the land that's been developed around it isn't much better. The picture posted is actually on the course. After passing graffiti tagged rocks and drainage ditches, you have to pass through what maybe was once a dumping ground. All that's missing is the "No Dumping" sign and the scene would be complete. Once you tune out the peripherals, the trails are pretty awesome. There is some climbing, but nothing longer than seven minutes or so. There are plenty of places to hammer, so I should be able to chase back on to any of those wafer thin climbers that claim this sport. There are some sections that are fairly technical as well. A big departure from Norba Nat #2 near Solvang (sooooo last week). It's the most technical of the three courses yet, so I best have my A game come morning time.

Speaking of game, one of the things that I find amusing about traveling is that somebody somewhere decided that every hotel room needs a TV. Not having one at home, it's an afterthought in my world. But once settled, I do push the old power button to see what comes belching forth. Apparently my man, David Hasselhoff is in a bit of a rough patch. And I only say he's my man, because I am of German heritage and everyone knows that Ze Germans love David Hasselhoff. After watching the above clip, I really didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Back in the day, that was like having a late night snack with any number of people--most certainly my little brother. What I found shocking though comes at the end when Hasselhoff says that he's going to get back on his "game". Did I miss something? Exactly when did David have "game" and who was it that gave it to him? If these silly shows want to do some real reporting, somebody should get to the bottom of the Hasselhoff and Game issue. That could be bigger for someones career than torching Nixon ala Woodward and Bernstein.

Anyway, like I said above, wish you were here. My normal companion and racing compadre and whipping boy as of late, Steve Griffiths, fell on his face last week at Madera, so I'm flying solo. Hope you're feeling better Griff. Hope the rest of you are well, too.

Johnny GoFast

So back in the day, we used to get home from morning workout cold, hungry and tired. We either rowed or we would do what was called a land workout. This would consist of running, or calisthenics, or weights or all of the above. We'd get home around 8:30 or 9am and we'd get to work on breakfast. Griff loved to make pancakes and Peter would have cereal or something. If he was trying to cut weight he'd have a chew and a cup of coffee. Our other roommate would shower and head off to school like it mattered. He became a doctor, so maybe it did. Anyway, we used to sit down in front of the TV and watch The Price is Right. Peter would clamber for Mama's Family (a little factoid that he will deny to this day) but he'd get over ruled. I was probably the only serious player of the lot. Sometimes I would have to call into the kitchen to get Griffs bid. After loading our bellies up with the pancakes--Griff always would make me some, invariably we would fall asleep. Peter would grab the remote (not in a food coma due to the chew and coffee diet) and switch it over to his program. Later I'd awake and slink off to my bed to finish my nap off in style. Anyway, I heard about this guy on the radio the other day and it brought back fond memories for obvious reasons. Although I never remember a player of this caliber in all my years of viewing. This guy is...ahem...priceless.

Headed off to Fontucky tonight for a little business on Thursday and Friday in the Inland Empire. One, two, three....I E PRIDE!! Then on Saturday it's Norba #3. I'll try and post some from down there. Hope you are well.

Johnny GoFast

Do Larry Nolan’s legs ever hurt so much that he drinks a bunch of wine post race to dull the pain?

Does Michael Hernandez drink that beer post race to mock me and my inability to process beer without getting a wicked hangover and gaining five pounds as a result?

Does Kevin Metcalfe struggle to not eat pizza?

Does Mark Howland ever find himself not able to train because he has to take a customer golfing instead?

Does Larry Hibbard’s wife ask him to plant a garden after getting back from a hard ride?

Does James Coates ever have a bad day training?

Does Rich Thurman ever question whether the pace is too berserker at the beginning of a mountain bike race?

Does Chris Wire’s wife ever get on him about how much riding and racing he does at the height of his racing season?

Does Gannon Myall work to look that comfortable while drilling it on a cross bike?

Does John Funke think that the amount of money he spends on his bicycles may be a bit extreme?


These are the questions that I don’t know the answers to. But sometimes, when I’m out training, they rattle through my head. I may never know.

Johnny GoFast