So how to beat Don Myrah? That's the question. The obvious answer is to work harder. But the season is here and that hard work should have happened six months ago. Had I known he was going to be this fast, and subsequently everyone else would be going harder, I wouldn't have skipped a workout in favor of a burrito. I wouldn't have had that night full of beer with the boys on multiple occasions. I wouldn't have taken a fishing trip to Northern Ontario. Okay, wait...I still would have gone to Ontario. A man does have his limits. But what to do now? The man is flying and I'm not. So I've been thinking and I've come up with a list of things I can do now to level the playing field a bit. Let's have a look:

1) You can tell that there has been some sort of dietary change that has occurred. And talking to my mole with inside information on The Myrah (Brock Dickie but don't tell anyone), tells me he's dropped like 30 pounds from last year. That's like dropping a piano off your back. Anyway, I can infer from the fact that he was lugging 30 extra pounds last year that the man likes to eat. So I've started ordering him pizza and it has been arriving at his house since Sunday night. It's Zach's stuffed pizza with extra pepperoni and sausage. Who can resist that? I've also taken the liberty of having it delivered with an ice cold pitcher of Sierra Nevada beer.

2) Item one above is great on a long term basis, but more immediate corrective action is necessary. So I've enlisted Griff to set up a food stand on course near one of the wheel pit areas. It will face both sides of the course offering Don, and only Don, a feed. The first stand option for Don will be the Apple Fritter donut. It is only the most perfect donut ever and should hit his stomach like a cinder block. Upon returning to the booth, I have instructed Griff to then hand up a deep fried leg of ham for The Myrah to munch on. It will be important for the rest of us to "let" Don have a bit of a lead off the front so he feels like he has time to partake in this noshfest.

3) I don't anticipate that this alone will slow down The Myrah enough so that any of us will now have a chance so that is why we are going to enact Operation Flying Wallenda Brothers. This will obviously be the most difficult to pull off as it will require precision unlike anything seen at a NorCal Cyclocross race ever. My plan is that we have Henry Kramer and Gannon Myall pedalling the bikes as seen in the picture, with Chris D'Alusio perched in the chair. As they come upon The Myrah munching on his leg of ham while the juices roll down his chin, we will have Chris leap from his post and onto the Myrah. Quickly, Chris will need to scurry into one of The Myrah's jersey pockets and hunker down. It is important that Chris perform this function as he is both a) small enough to fit in one of the pockets, and b) the only one I've met out of any of you that can be quiet for the any length of time.

4) At this point, The Myrah should be slowing. No doubt the confusion will be setting in as he notices that he hasn't lapped 3/4 of the field yet and that he can actually hear bikes clanging away behind him. If it looks like he isn't pedalling squares yet, we will need to resort to drastic measures. My plan is to ride off the back (I feel particularly well suited for this task), and as The Myrah approaches, I will veer off course and through the tape. With Oz or Bustos following, I will have them quickly retape the course to follow me. Once The Myrah is on my wheel, they will then switch the tape back to its regular position to mark the correct path. This will give those that were close enough, a bit of a gap before The Myrah knows he's been duped.

5) Once The Myrah is back on course, we're pretty much on our own. I did think about employing DeFiebre at this point to give The Myrah a rub or two. Keith likes to bang about as witnessed at the last Pilarcitos race when apparently he got into it with the Otis Guy guy. If Keith can get Otis Guy guy chirping (something I've been able to do as well but I don't think I have enough speed to catch The Myrah--Keith has it in him), maybe he can do the same with The Myrah. I also thought that we could get the lap card guy in our employ and give The Myrah false information with how many laps are left, but those officials are tough to bribe. Believe me, I've tried.

Anyway, short of actually doing the work, I thought we could try this. Does anyone else have any ideas? If we work together, certainly somebody can out duel this man.

Johnny GoFast

So I got to attend a speech that my little boy gave on Waste Managers. Waste Managers are what you call garbage men when your little boy is interested in becoming one. He is doing a unit in school where they have to study somebody that is directly working in our community. Of all the options he had to choose from, he went with Waste Manager. Apparently, being a cop or fireman is so our generation. So anyway, on Wednesday, we got up at oh dark thirty to greet the garbage...um...I mean waste manager truck driver. My boy was at the ready with his questions and we found out his name (Jose), his favorite part of the job (servicing the customer) and the special training required (operating the claw-hydraulic lift but the boy didn't get that so Jose called it the claw, how to operate the truck, and the various safety procedures required). Then on Saturday I took him to the landfill with girl and the Wifeage in tow. They happened to be having an open house that day and people actually came. I've heard of staycations but really...the dump? They had a jumpy house and a catered lunch. The kids both ate a hamburger. The Wifeage and I didn't really have the stomach for a meal at the landfill. Then we got to tour the actual land fill, via limobus (I'm not kidding) and watch the heavy equipment that smashed the garbage into the ground. As we all know, landfills kick off methane gas, and our landfill captures that gas and turns it into electricity. They sell the electricity to Los Altos and Alameda as those municipalities have a green energy policy and they like the fact that they are buying garbage gas. Anyway, the boy was able to recap all of that and did an excellent job on his speech. A couple of proud parents in the room to be sure. Hope you are well.

Johnny GoFast

Tomorrow we are back to business with my thoughts on how we can stop uber sensation Don Myrah in cyclocross. Hint: it does not involve me training harder as that wouldn't be enough even if I went at it full time.

Sliding into second base when playing baseball is: strategic, makes good fundamental sense, and when done correctly is an integral part of the game. Sliding into second base while riding your bike...not so much. So yesterday I was coming off the mountain and riding back to the rock pile at lunch when I mach'd through a corner like I've done 200 times before. At the apex of the turn, the front wheel decided to let go and the speed at which the ground came up was alarming. I hit the deck and slid 15 to 20 yards before I was able to stop myself by slamming into my bike that had arrested its forward progress by slamming into a curb. Shaken and stirred, I quickly stood up and assessed the damage. I had fallen on my left hip and that seemed to be the trouble area. The left elbow suffered some rash as well but was mostly superficial at best. My greatest concern was that the impact to the hip was the same as the impact I suffered last year at the night cyclocross race that effectively ended my season. I assured no less than 10 passing motorists (including one motorcycle cop) that I was okay. I remounted and started to pedal and things felt fine. I had a little stiffness last night but today the hip actually feels pretty good. I think I got lucky in that: 1) the impact was slightly lower on the hip than last year and 2) I was moving pretty fast when I hit so that the energy from the impact was spread out over a greater distance (though I'm no expert on such crash analysis). And before any of you ask I'll cut right to the chase, the mullet was not damaged in any way during the fall. Anyway, stay upright and I hope you are well.

Johnny GoFall

Oh the joys of being back at it. It's tough waiting all year for the cross season to begin. No doubt I have a lot of fun when I'm not racing my bike, but it's definitely hard to sit on the sidelines when most are out there turning themselves inside and out during the road and mountain bike campaigns. But for whatever reason, I've morphed into the fall cyclocross racer, so I guess I'm going with it for now. The first race is always a shock to the system and the speed with which everyone seems to go is frightening. But I'll tell you what, getting a chance to fling it out there after all the lonely base miles is a heck of a change of scenery and one that I am all too pleased to embrace. You know when it's time to start racing when:

-You have every shard of glass memorized on any of your biking routes;
-You pretty much know who you're going to see and when depending on the time of day you are riding and what direction you are headed;
-You are on a first name basis with some of the homeless people that live down by the canal because you pass by them on the way to work, during your lunchtime ride, and on the way home from work;
-You respond with a "I don't know...I haven't looked at the data from my watt computer yet" when somebody asks you how your ride went;
-You can tell the flavor of gel pack just by feel when pulling it out from the back of your jersey;
-Your wife starts demanding that you start racing because she can't take the constant "I wonder if my training plan is on target" moaning.

Anyway, headed for McLaren this weekend to light up the sensations for a second week in a row. Glad the racing season is here. Hope you are well.

Johnny GoFast
Above photo courtesy of Rick Rasmussen Shot at CCCX #2