Monthly Archives: September 2011

Yesterday, en route to what I would call a mediocre 15th place, I did a whole 25 more watts AVERAGE than I did at the Vuelta Time Trial where I finished 5th. I certainly gave everything I had, but it was not enough.

The Vuelta TT was a big step for me. It was the first TT of that length that I had ever done, being just shy of an hour. Yesterday was very similar, and to experience a jump of 25 watts–I could be ecstatic with that. But I am not. At the end of the day, it is not how many watts someone produces in a single day, it is how fast they go. While I am content to have technically gone faster, I realize that I have a lot of work I need to get done before I can be competitive at this level on such a stage.

Yesterday was a good indication that yes, I am improving, but these guys, Tony Martin in particular, are at a whole different level. I know I can be up there soon as I have plenty of room to grow, I just have to put in the work and the hours. I am very motivated this winter to do everything right and come out guns blazing next year.

I still have the Road Race on Sunday where I will hopefully be leading out Tyler Farrar if all goes according to schedule…

Thanks for all of your support, we will be on top soon enough.

-tp

TP: Hey, Phil. First off, thanks for sitting down with me. I am a huge fan of yours. Congrats on today at GP Wallonie, Canada and leading the WorldTour ranking.

PG: Oh hey Taylor. Yeah thank you. I would say I’m a huge fan of yours too but I never really see you in races because I’m usually off the front. And from what I hear, you’re usually off the back.

TP: Yes, that is quite understandable. Talk a bit about your goals this year and how it has gone.

PG: (laughs) How it has gone? Um, Taylor, I’m sorry but do you watch cycling on TV? I have won everything. I don’t know if you noticed but it would appear to the general public that I have 3 legs, while everyone else, yourself included, has a mere 2. Goals? I don’t set goals. Goals are for people who are weak. I just win. Everything. It is funny because I’m actually getting tired of it… You know that electricity that courses through your body after winning a bike race? Yeah, well, too much of that can cause some serious low back pain. It is really quite annoying now but I keep winning anyways because it is how I am ‘wired’ or something.

TP: Yeah, you are really impressive.

PG: That is another thing, Taylor, stop sucking up to me. I know I am a legend in the making but Jesus H I am a person too. Relax, I’m only beastly on the bike. In person I’m a real Teddy Bear. In fact, that is what my close friends call me. Teddy Bear.

TP: Really?

PG: Don’t question me.

TP: Just wondering Phil… Jeeez I thought you were a Teddy bear.

PG: I am, just get to know me you ignorant American piece of…

TP: Phil, this is a family blog, please. So back to the interview. What are your chances for Worlds?

PG: (laughs) There you go again! Chances? Ahhhhahaha. Only mere mortals have ‘chances’. What kind of BS is that. I could win that sh…–I mean–I could win the Worlds so easily, it’s just, like I said, my back, it really hurts…from all the post ups. I can’t control it. Your friend Cadel has done a good job of limiting his winning salutes to one armed fist pumps… I need to learn something from that guy. That is a big reason why I signed for your team actually. Well, that and the cage of African lions and tigers I was promised by Och. I can’t wait to just sit in my house and play with my lions and tigers. Like me, those animals are so raw and fierce on the outside, but incredibly gentle on the inside.

TP: Wow, yeah I would be really excited to play with the lions and tigers too. Maybe I could come over?

PG: (laughs) Taylor, you really are unique… In the worst way that is. I don’t even know you, why would I invite you over to my house to play with my cats? That is asking a lot don’t you think? Plus, they would totally eat you. You are like a human gazelle. I mean, look at your nose, it is huge. You must be really good at smelling things. Is this interview over yet?

TP: Yeah, Gilby, almost. Is it alright if I call you that? I just came up with it.

PG: You may refer to me as Sir, Your Highness, or Master.

TP: Oh, OK, I apologize. Your Highness. Anyways, about your victory. I was actually there to witness it and am pretty excited about that! You are so amazing. How do you do it?

PG: God you are really getting on my nerves Taylor. Yeah, a lot of people witness my attacks, you know, since EVERYONE is BEHIND me. Jeez, you think you are special or something? Get on your hands and knees and clean my shoes.

TP bends down and begins to clean PG’s shoes.

PG: Yeah, that is better. So anyways, I attacked and I won. Everyone knew I was gonna do it, and then I did it, and then no one was surprised when I won. Luckily I had time to slowly take my hands off the bars so as not to hurt my poor back. Alright I’m done with this, goodbye Taylor. Now kiss my feet to prove to me that you did a good job cleaning them

TP kisses PG’s feet.

PG begins to hover off of the ground, puts one fist to the sky, and takes off in flight.

That all really happened! Actually, it didn’t.

A quick update from me today. Felt good, was fun to be racing again. Almost got dropped on second to last climb, hung in there until about 2km into the final climb, right before it leveled off. Blew to pieces, but witnessed a Gilbert attack, so that was cool! On to Koolskamp in two days which is more my thing.

-tp

Today my body let me know that enough, was enough.

After a terrible sleep last night I woke up lacking a fair amount of confidence going into today’s stage. I remember back after my rebound from stages 4, and 5, when I knew my legs had come around and I was almost fearless, no matter what the stage profile. Today, the fear had consumed me. Ever since the rest day after what was a great effort in the TT, I had lost my rhythm and my mojo.

The past two days proved really difficult, an overwhelming sense of emptiness had taken ahold of my mind and body two days in a row. The fear of more emptiness made lining up this morning even more daunting.

I thought about not even starting today. I had not gotten a good night’s sleep and I felt that I was already on another downward curve in the way my legs were reacting to the racing. The plan going into this race for me was to just make it to the TT on Stage 10, and then see what came about from there. I questioned myself, and questioned myself some more until I came to one conclusion.

I had to at least try, I couldn’t just pull the plug like that. I had to start. I had to respect my team, my staff, and this race by starting… What would come of it who knows, but at I at least had to put myself out there.

From the get-go, it was not pretty. As we geared up in the neutral, the nervousness in the pack was high. Like many other stages here, as soon as the flag dropped, we started to climb. Let’s just say that if climbing in itself isn’t a strong suit of mine, climbing from the gun–cold turkey–is REALLY far from ‘up my alley’.

I prepared for the worst, and the worst came. Only a handful of kilometers into the stage I found myself at the back, for the umpteenth time in this Vuelta. But this time, when I drifted back, I couldn’t stop drifting. The pack slowly surged away, as I was left dangling, and soon enough…alone. I plummeted through the caravan, trying to hold my own rhythm but failing, falling further and further back.

And then I was almost completely alone. Just my team car and broom wagon behind me. Not to mention the poor people who chose the wrong road on the wrong day and were now stuck behind a suffering American hogging up the whole road, losing distance to the real bike race going on further and further away.

I crested the first climb, with John Lelangue and Max Sciandri in the car behind encouraging me. I was rather embarrassed of my predicament and kept my head down, focusing more on the pedals, and less on the fact that I was dead last and losing precious ground.

Second climb done. The race nowhere to be seen. Alright, this is getting ridiculous. I was holding up a whole host of cars behind and had absolutely no hope of regaining contact with any sort of grupetto.

My race was over, but I still had another climb to get over. Earlier in the day, when I decided to start–to at least try–I made a commitment to myself which entailed making it to the feed zone 81km into the stage. If I got there, and I was so far back there was no chance, none whatsoever, then I would step off my bike. But only then.

So two climbs down, one 10km climb to go.

My body was hating me. I had been giving everything for about an hour and a half now, so focused on keeping the speed up I had forgotten to eat or drink anything. I started climbing again and felt a serious bonk coming on. The kind of bonk that makes your head spin, that completely numbs your body to any feeling–in a bad way. I rushed to eat the small cakes I had in my pockets and chugged my 1 bottle I had started with (to save weight).

Still embarrassed at the fact that I had 10 cars behind me, just for me, I tried not to think about them and just focused on getting back into a rhythm. There were fans who still lined the course, most of whom appeared quite surprised by my sudden appearance so far behind the real action. They would, however, cheer for me, which I was both grateful for and again–embarrassed by.

Alright, enough delving into the pathetic two and half hours of solo bike racing I endured today. I made it to the feed zone eventually, far enough behind that I was forced to stop. In some races they cut your numbers off when you abandon. This was one thing I had been dreading all day, but luckily for me they just took the transponder on my fork. My numbers remain intact. Upon getting in the car, I immediately fell asleep…I was completely knackered.

In the final kilometers of my 2011 Vuelta D’España, I had time to ponder. Actually, I had time to ponder all day now that I think of it.

I have to be happy with the time I have had here. Sure I suffered, I suffered a lot, but I accomplished my original goal which was to make it to the stage 10 TT. And I got 5th in said TT, finishing 6 seconds from my idol, Fabian Cancellara. And then I made it two days after that, only having to call it quits today, day 13.

I am still young, sure there are guys like Peter Sagan (who is my same age and winning stages here), but I have to respect my own body, my own limits. I have to develop myself in time and focus on my next goal. I have already surpassed anything I have ever done before in these past two weeks, and now I can go into the World Championships (assuming I have a spot!) a different rider having completely these 12 and a half Vuelta stages.

I have to apologize to all of you who have followed me so closely on Twitter and on this blog. I received so much support from you all these past 13 days that I really wish I could finish just for all of you. You have helped me more than you know with your kind words and encouragement. For that I can’t thank you enough.

I have to thank my team, the riders and the staff, for understanding and supporting me through this race. Quite obviously, I couldn’t have done any of it without them.

I will be hanging around the race for another day or so, seeing as how it is a bit tricky to get out of here, and will keep the blogs coming.

Thanks again, for all the love, I wish I could give it right back.

-tp

Stage 12… Damn! That is a lot of bike racing, with still many more days to go.

Since I am equally as tired from writing about all of my daily suffering as you are from reading about it, I figured today I would give a shortened version of the stage…and some thoughts that went through my head as the Spanish countryside flew by around me.

Today was another ‘supposed to be flat’ day that wasn’t. I have learned by now never to expect ‘easy’ or ‘flat’ and so I knew what was coming.

I suffered early, and often. A break went, but the road never stopped rolling. I briefly felt better as I got into a rhythm on the first climb…but then Stuart O’Grady got to the front and put me right back in the pain cave. I then almost got dropped on the next ‘climb-that-was-not-a-climb’, and continued to hold on over the second (and last) categorized climb.

As we geared up for the last rollers coming into the sprint I began to feel a bit better, getting up to the front and making sure Greg was taken care of. As we hit the last roller I was cooked, got dropped and rolled in with a grupetto that included my hombre Andrew Talansky who had been working hard at the front for the last half of the stage.

Another day, another…dollar? That saying doesn’t really apply here but I’ll leave it anyways. It sounds good, so…

I actually think a lot about this blog when we are racing, to pass the time… I think about what the title will be, what I will write, how I want to come across. Today I decided I was tired of delving into details about how bad my legs feel, and instead I though I would share some random tidbits. So here you go:

Pablo Lastras.
Pablo is, quite literally, the nicest professional bike rider I have ever raced with. If he needs to get by you he asks nicely and then when you move out of his way–he thanks you as if you have just saved his first-born child from the jaws of a black bear. Also, he encourages me. I have said hello to him once, in passing, but other than that we haven’t spoken…yet, when I’m going backwards on a climb, he will encourage me, saying things like ‘come on Taylor’, or ‘you can do it, Taylor’. Pablo is a man who leads by example, and I’m incredibly honored to be racing here with him. Some would say that assholes finish first, especially in this sport… Pablo is here, not to tell you, but to show you that even nice guys can win bike races, and win them in style. You’re the man Pablo!

My musette bag.
I grabbed a musette full of food and bottles from Fox our soigneur today, put it over my head, and replaced my bottles with new ones…but then I just left it slung over my shoulder. I was so tired I had no desire to take any food out, I had no desire to throw it away, I just kept it there. For about 10km…
Whatever.

Blasting Kohler.
I inadvertently launched a snot rocket directly into the face of my poor poor teammate Martin Kohler today. I apologized.

The front.
I desperately wanted to ask if I could ride the front late in the stage today…but remembered the 4500m of climbing we have tomorrow and decided yeahhh, maybe not.

Peter Sagan.
Wow, the guy is incredible. Not only is he super nice, but he is my age, doing what he is doing… Really really impressive. He makes me feel like a pansy on a daily basis. C’est la vie! Big congrats to him and his team today.

Contador’s shirt and the Latino vs Anglo Saxon ‘war’.
Earlier this morning I tweeted a picture of Contador, in an interview, speaking about his ‘issues’…with a shirt that said ‘DIRTY’ in capital letters on it. I intended this picture to be a joke because let’s be honest–it was not the BEST wardrobe choice–but as per usual, some people thought I was making a statement to further THEIR belief that there is a separation in the pro peloton when it comes to Latinos vs Anglo-Saxons. Manuel Quinziato and I shared a good laugh about this. People love to start drama!

Beauty.
This area that we are racing in–I believe it is called Galicia–is absolutely gorgeous. Besides the pain I feel constantly when I’m on my bike, I really enjoy it.

Grilled cheese.
I just arrived back to the hotel to grilled cheese sandwiches which almost made me jump for joy. Am snarfing down a couple now… These things remind me of my amazing mother who would make me grilled cheese sambos all the time when I was younger. Love you and miss you mom!! I’ll be home soon

Tomorrow.
Will be very difficult…I am hoping to make it out alive, and within time cut.

All for now.

Ta-Ta!

-tp