So when is a crack really a crack? Upon further review, the Rudy's Project helmet that was atop my noggin on Sunday apparently did suffer from the crash festival that broke out during my last lap. As I rode a moderate pace up the newly paved SouthGate Road on Diablo today at lunchtime, I noticed (as my helmet was draped over my bars--I know what you're thinking and I know that it should be on my head at all times--but I was going uphill very slowly) what looked like a small crack on the back of the lid. So I stopped and inspected further and low and behold, it's certainly cracked. But not all the way through and I couldn't find any others. Now my boy up in Oregon--goes by the name of Brian Marcy--would probably tell you that partly cracked is not totally cracked and therefore good to go. My boy in Folsom who can beat me would probably tell you that if you've got a cracked head, put a cracked helmet on it. Further, some of the letters on the side of it jumped ship on Sunday as well. So now it just says, R..y Pr.ject. No doubt there's a U, D, & O out on the trail side somewhere happy to be done with me and that helmet. Anyway, don't know what to do. Could be residual damage left over from the crash that is leaving me indecisive. Hope you know.

Johnny GoFast

Ouchola. I'm not going to lie to you, that's not what I said upon hitting the deck yesterday at the Central Coast race. It was the last lap and I had just put a little dig in to get a gap on Eric Bustos and Brock Dickie. I needed a gap because I was having a hard time going as fast as everyone else on some of the descents. I was basically getting the crap beaten out of me every time down this one section in particular. Every lap I told myself to ride smooth and that it would be over shortly. On the last lap, I clearly remember thinking with some sense of joy that this would be the last time down this section and then I was on the ground wondering what the hell just happened. I picked myself up and grabbed my bike so Eric and Brock wouldn't slam into it. It seemed ride-able and at first glance I seem to be in one piece so I remounted. But you know how that goes. A little crash does wonders for the confidence and I managed to bobble my way to the finish line almost face planting going over one of the remaining barriers (above picture shown specifically to prove to Mr. C. that I can clear the barriers with some style). I lost another spot just before the line.

So I sit here today with the usual accoutrements of aches, pains and scrapes and I'm wondering how this will affect my training. And how I can improve my skills. And how I can shed some pounds. And how I can goose more speed out of this body. Yep, I'd say Project Johnny is in full swing. Anyway, hope you are well.

Johnny GoFast

So a while ago I started pulling treats out of my kids' ears. You know the old routine where you palm a coin or a candy of some sort while you fiddle with their ear and then, as if by magic, you show them the treat that was in your hand all along? My boy has caught onto the routine, and if he hasn’t, he’s skeptical at best. The girl is a full blown buyer at this point. I keep a stack of chocolates, the kind hotels give you on your pillow at turn down service time, here at the rock pile for those times when the kiddiewinks come to visit me. It’s become sort of our little deal with the girl often asking me to pull a treat or a quarter out of her ear.

We were up in Vancouver not too long ago and we stopped to watch one of those street entertainers work his magic for us. He was okay at best but then he started pulling stuff out of Maile’s hair and she was all a giggle. At one point during the show, Jackson disappeared something of the magicians at which point the magician demanded it back. The girl, clever as she is, knew that the magician, no doubt, would pull the item from the boy’s hair. So she took her hands and rubbed them ferociously through the boy’s hair knowing that she’d find the missing object. That one action drew the loudest chuckle of the performance.

So Sunday night I took the kids to the local pizza joint where I escalated the whole pulling something from the kids’ ears a little too far. You see, I was drinking beer and the wifeage wasn’t there, which is usually the reason for any of my many spectacular downfalls. Anyway, at one point I palmed the pepper shaker fiddled with Maile’s backside and then asked her why she had a pepper shaker in her butt. Both kids fell on the floor laughing. Which made me laugh. The three of us made quite a scene, no doubt. I can only imagine how this thing will escalate and what might befall me when any of this gets back to the wifeage. Anyway, thought you’d like to know.

Johnny GoFast

So apparently the chickens need a chicken coop. Up until now, they've lived in a bunny hutch (which has me terrified now that there will be a coop with chickens in it and a vacant bunny hutch in need of bunnies) in a little fenced in area of our yard. The idea is that if we (and I use that term very loosely) can build them a proper structure, they will lay their eggs in the proper location as opposed to "somewhere" in the yard. The bunny hutch doors are usually left open and being a little on the stupid side, the chickens have decided they can fly. So out they come and they've been free range-ing all over the back yard. Searching for eggs on Easter, kind of fun. Foraging for eggs for your breakfast...not so much.

So my wifeage, knowing my limited skill set, somehow ordered herself up a friend that is good and actually enjoys projects like this. In the photo above, you can actually see Jesse in full work mode carrying one of the framed walls. At one point, I pulled up a bench so the kiddiewinks and I could watch him work. He stated he'd never worked in front of a live audience before. I feel like in my own little way, I've helped out some in this little endeavor. Anyway, soon we will have a state of the art coop in which the chickens will escape. Hope you are well.

Johnny GoFast

So I took "Project Johnny" up to Folsom to do some efforts on the mountain bike. Here it is the middle of September and it's the first time I've raced on my mountain bike in 2008. Pretty pathetic. And here's a little something I forgot in that time off of the bike, MOUNTAIN BIKE RACING REALLY HURTS! I mean like leave you muttering to yourself in a crumpled heap on the finish line. Like a battered shell of a human being gone wiggy from the sensory overload of the oncoming terrain at a pace entirely too fast for comfort. Like a full body crush job inflicted by no one other than yourself. Ouchola.

Anyway, it was a two event stage race, though that seems a few short of really being anything more than what it was (short time trial on Friday evening followed by a cross country race on Saturday). I took second in both and, hold your breath, second overall. By the end they were calling me up to the podium as "Mr. Bridesmaid". Not a lot of folks racing, but the event itself was fun. I did it for the intensity and it was nice to be out racing again. Next weekend I take myself down to the CCCX race to get a refresher on how painful cross can be if done correctly. Beats the alternative. Hope you are well.

Johnny GoFast

So I've always said that I'm so far behind the technological curve that when I finally get on the bus, there is some new innovation that comes and takes its place. In my own little way, I think I somehow have a direct connection to any technological advancement that occurs. Hell, the Internet probably was my fault. For example, a while ago I finally bucked up and got one of those five disc CD changers for my stereo. Up to that point, I was still playing cassettes and (if you can believe it) spinning vinyl. I finally broke down and went out to buy one because I was tired of getting up to flip the record. The beauty in this is that by the time I get around to buying whatever it is that everyone else has, the price is at rock bottom. I guess I'm fiscally responsible in some ways. Anyway, shortly after I bought my CD changer, somebody invented something called an IPOD. Doh!

So I finally broke down and got myself one of those watt meter thingies. Vaughn Van Note who puts the "(S)Well" in Wells Fargo offered me up his at a low down price and even offered up e-z financing so the wifeage wouldn't find out. He installed it for me because I have even less of a mechanical mind than my techno blind spot that I walk around with. So yesterday I took the thing out for a spin and all I could figure out how to work was the heart rate and the time function. Which put me right back to where I was with my heart rate monitor yet short a few more shekels. So I did what I should have done in the first place (R-T-M as in "read the manual") or more accurately (RTFM). Anyway, I think I've got it down, but there maybe something wrong. The little "Trans Icon" that the manual says is supposed to appear in the upper left hand corner isn't there so I don't think the hub is sending the signal. But seriously, I'm only spitballing here. I've tried to make toast before and gone toastless until the wifeage pointed out that the toaster needed to be plugged in. Hopefully somebody on the team ride (or Vaughn if your reading perhaps you can lend some insight) can straighten me out. We know it won't be Patty Mac of the Thanksgiving Day Worlds fame and new owner of Cat Too-huge legs because he just throws the leg over and pounds out mile after relentless mile.

Anyway, no need for techno babble where I'm going. Off to the Folsom Cyclebration (which I can't help saying without a whimsical flair and slight lisp as I skip gaily through the air) for a little off road TT and cross country race. Watt meters and the like (shaved legs, matching kits, clean shoes and bikes) are only scoffed at on the line. Anyway, hope you are well and sorry for launching the next techno wave as I've glommed on to the latest. I'm sure you will all have some sort of new blood analysis machine mounted to your bars by the time I get back so you can monitor your lactate input/output mid interval. Or something of the nauseating sort.

Johnny GoFast

Went to the Griffociraptors on Saturday night for Griffapalooza II. What a blast. The party got roaring around
5pm with the food going on shortly thereafter. The Griff's spring for a two man band type set up and they play all sorts of great music. There are kids everywhere and I can never figure out if they or their half in the bag parents are having more fun. There was lots of swimming in the new cement pond they got for themselves. I spent more than my fair share of the time in the pool chucking the little ones about. Tulip Griff was pouring liberal amounts of tequila which seemed like a really good idea at the time. Most of us spent the night having set up tents and the like in the back yard. As with all things, this story ends up sadly as most wore that look of nausea the next day. In handicapping the event, I'd say that Tulip came out the worst with me a close second (although that may be solely because I personally experienced my own hangover--others may make a case that they suffered more). But I will say this, I'm still hurting today as well. And I'd do it all again and can't wait for more next year.

Johnny GoFast

The boy just absolutely loves this song. I have to admit, I have had this playing in my head lately when I've been out riding. Project Johnny is coming along nicely. I've been having some great workouts, the weight is coming off, and I seem to be getting stronger. May have to rename my bike Black Betty or perhaps after those guys that seem to mock themselves...Ram Jam (originators of the fabulous hit from the 70's). You decide.





Woah Black Betty
Bama Lamb

Go Black Betty
Bama Lamb

Black Betty Had A Child
Bama Lamb

Damn Thing Gone Wild
Bama Lamb

Shes Always Ready
Bama Lamb

Shes All Rock Steady
Bama Lamb

Woah Black Betty
Bama Lamb

Go Black Betty
Bama Lamb

All Right!

Whoa Black Betty
Bama Lamb

Go Black Betty
Bama Lamb

She Really Gets Me High
Bama Lamb

Yeah That's No Lie
Bama Lamb

She's Always Ready
Bama Lamb

She's All Rocksteady
Bama Lamb

Whoa Black Betty
Bama Lamb

Go Black Betty
Bama Lamb

Yeah!

Oh Yeah
Alright


Whoa Black Betty
Bama Lamb

She's From Birmingham
Bama Lamb

Way Down In Alabam'
Bama Lamb

Black Betty Had A Child
Bama Lamb

Damn Thing Gone Blind
Bama Lamb

Whoa Black Betty
Bama Lamb

Go Black Betty
Bama Lamb

Oh Yeah
All Right
Oh Yeah
Oh Yeah

BAMA LAAAAMMMMMMMBBBBB!!


Rockin' baby!

Johnny GoFast