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Hello all. I’m just back to my house in Italy after a lovely two week training camp in the south of Spain and have been wanting to write this blog for a quite some time now.

I have been wanting to talk a bit about my relationship with my Dad.

I consider my Dad to be one of my best friends. There is no one else in this world that I have spent more time with in my life than him. Between the age of when I could talk, up until I was into my ‘tweens’–almost every night he was home, my Dad would come into my room before bedtime and talk with me for hours on end. He would tell me stories of his racing days, I would ask questions, I could talk to him about anything…he was like my own personal therapist. If I was having a problem at school, I would talk it through with him, whether it was about a girl I had a crush on or a bully that was picking on me. As a kid, this time with my Dad meant the world to me and wound up being an outstanding highlight of my childhood.

I often wondered why my friends didn’t have a similar relationship with their fathers that I had with mine. My Dad would go off to different events every once and a while, but was never gone too long. I very fondly recall the ‘boys weekends’ we would spend together in the winters in various ski destinations in Colorado and around the western US. We would quite literally ski all day–full gas the whole time–then go out for burgers at night and just hang out and chat before heading to bed and repeating another adventure the next day. On those weekends we would be attached at the hip and I remember them as being some of the best weekends of my young life. In fact, when I think back to them now, I am overwhelmed with a strong feeling of nostalgia. I loved every second of the time I could spend with my Dad.

In 2000, my Dad was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease. As a kid at the age of 10, who thought, like most little kids do, that the world revolved around me, I figured my Dad’s ‘sickness’ wasn’t that bad of news. After all, it only meant that he couldn’t travel as much, and would have to spend more time at home; more time with me and my little sister Kelsey. I also had no real clue as to the severity of it, my knowledge of the matter only broadened as I matured over the course of the last 12 years.

My relationship with my Dad didn’t change at all after his diagnosis. Thinking back now to the way he handled it, I can’t really believe his composure. He kept on living, loving, and laughing. He easily could’ve lapsed into self pity and depression but he held his head high and said ‘I am going to live with this disease and I am going to live well.’ He spent even more time with my sister and me, and we got to do some pretty cool things as a family–like move to Italy for 3 years when I was in middle school. Just to do something different and because we could. I will say, however, that nothing we did as a family could how been accomplished without my Mom though, she is very much the glue that holds us together.

A lot of people ask me what it was like when I found out my father had Parkinson’s, but to be honest, at age 10 I was far too young to know anything about it, and as it has changed him over the years I have been growing into my own person and trying to find my place in the world. I would say that the only time I really noticed a huge difference in my father’s appearance was after he underwent a brain surgery called ‘deep brain stimulation’ or DBS. In 2008, as I was qualifying for the Olympic team in track cycling, my Dad had two electrodes implanted into his brain which were wired to a battery box that sits on his right pectoral muscle; it is otherwise called a ‘brain pacemaker’. These electrodes are then fine tuned and customized to his own personal setting that quell his tremors and vastly improve his quality of life. Before the surgery my Dad had been on an 8-year roller coaster of medications, but after? He no longer had to take anything. He was not cured by any means, but he was a new man, with new life inside of him.

Even though my Dad has had to fight through this disease for almost 12 years now, our quality of life as a family has not been hindered in the slightest. My Dad is a huge inspiration to me not only in my cycling career but also in my personal life. He reminds me that I should never take anything for granted, and that no matter what, I should be happy and grateful for what I have. Positivity goes a long way, and seeing the bright side of any situation is a trait I have definitely inherited from my father. He is a bright light in many peoples lives, maybe shining the brightest in mine.

Earlier this month I chose to support my Dad’s foundation, the Davis Phinney Foundation, by donating $25,000 of my own money. The work he does, inspiring people around the globe to live BETTER with their disease is incredible. He did not ask me to donate, I just felt that it was getting to that time in MY life where I needed to start to give back. If YOU are interested in helping me match my donation (and you are in the USA)…you can easily text the word VICTORY to the number 80888 to donate $10. If you are outside the US, and have the urge to help support the Davis Phinney Foundation you can donate here: dpf.kintera.org/taylorphinney or here: davisphinneyfoundation.org

Many of you have been so very supporting in this endeavor, and for that I thank you! It is rather special for me to be able to share my love for the man that taught me everything I needed to know about how to live my life to the fullest, with all of you.

Thank you for reading, and a huge THANK YOU if you donate..it really means a lot to me!

-tp

Here we go!

The Age Old Dilemma..?

Douglas asks: Girl likes to have sex most at night. Like late. I often have to wake up at 530am to meet training partner for ride. How do I do both? Because skipping one or the other just isn’t doable, and you know it.

Dear Douglas, Taylor here. While Tejay has a rather simple answer to your question–which we will get to later–I would like to take a second to delve a little bit deeper into this.  According to a fact that was passed on to me by my female roommate, who most likely heard it from a friend, who read something on facebook about a friend who tweeted about this; the hour at which the average woman is at her highest state of arousal is precisely 3:00-4:00PM. Therefore, for me, the answer is simple: the ladies, they buy into a lot of questionable things. For example, if she is into horoscopes then you are in luck! This means she will be more inclined to believe you when you present her with this ‘fact’. I’m not saying you should lie to your lovely lady, I’m just saying that if you incorporate lunar and star alignment into your presentation on how her optimal sexual hour is–whenever you want it to be AM/PM–then you WILL WIN Douglas. If she DOESN’T believe you then she is clearly not crazy–a.k.a. a keeper, and you should probably marry her.

So really, you will either A. find out that your girlfriend is not as great as you thought and will have to dump her because, let’s face it, she be crazy to believe you. Or B. you will not get what you want. And that leads me to Tejay’s answer.

Tejay: Douglas, have sex, sleep in, ride alone. (Taylor secretly agrees to this plan).

Standards…

Klowe29 asks: Should you “Go Ugly Early” or wait and try your chances with the hottest one in the bar?

Dear Klowe29, Tejay and I have compiled a mutual answer for this one. Like Babe Ruth, we would encourage swinging for the fences, even pointing at said fence before you knock that ball out of the park. Instead of thinking what if..? Think why not! For reals, you will find that the second far outweighs the first. I think you will also find that probably not a lot of people in the bar have pointed at the hottest girl there, which will subsequently make you stand out, because let’s face it, pointing at randos is kinda creepy. BUT also, intriguing. On a side note, make sure you have an incredible follow up to said pointing move in order to guarantee success. As Tejay would say, swing for the fence, but don’t be too upset if you end up at First base–he knows better than anyone that you gotta slay a couple dragons before you can find the princess. No shame sir, no shame.

ALSO, you need to look at the long term. If you are going out, fully committed, then you have the WHOLE night. Rooms are dark, alcohol is permeating the blood stream–entering the brain, making life blurry. By 2:00AM the hotties are by and large all at home looking at themselves in the mirror, pretending that they enjoy eating 300 calories every day and tweeting about how amazing their life is and how much more ‘blessed’ they are than the rest of the world. Granted, I wouldn’t know, I am just guestimating here (winky face). Anyways, back to the point. Try your luck early fellas, be funny, win some, don’t worry if you lose some…but at least try! If, by 2:00am you are unsuccessful, then lower your standards exponentially factoring in the time of day and your growing level of intoxication.

Sweet, Sweet, Bike Riders.

Anonymous asks: There’s a friend (bike rider!) I don’t fancy at all trying to go on a date with me.. I don’t wanna be rude to him but he’s a real pain in the neck! He knows I just want to be his friend but he never misses the opportunity to invite me to my team’s football matches etc. Advice? Are all bike riders so annoying??

Dear Anonymous, Taylor here. First off, hold those horses! I’m not sure if you know this, but both Tejay and I are bike riders, and the only way you could have arrived to my website is through my Twitter, which means that at the bare minimum, you follow me, and let’s just go ahead and assume that you follow Tejay. SO, your final question is irrelevant because you should know from reading at least 2 of my tweets that yes, bike riders are incredibly annoying! I don’t hide it. I am proud…

Tejay here. As well as being very annoying, we tend to be very persistent. Unless this guy feels he still has a chance, he WILL persist, SO this turns into a classic ‘truth will set you free’ situation. Tell the guy that you are not into him ‘that way’ (whatever the hell that really means!). And also, stop being a tease and stop stealing his football tickets.

Taylor here again. Girl, hold up. He buys you tickets to football games? Or he invites himself to YOUR games… Slight difference. If he buys you tickets to games then you might need to step back a second and evaluate this situation a little bit deeper. This guy sounds like a care-taker. Let’s face it, you are not getting any younger, and you might look back to this time and think ‘why oh why did I not get with that guy who was so nice to me, and who bought me lovely things all the time and genuinely would have spoiled me for the rest of my life…?’ Then, you will look him up on facebook only to notice that he has moved to sunny California, married the winner of Season 8’s America’s Next Top Model, and they look oh-so-happy. Crushed, you close your 8-year old computer and head to the freezer for your second pint of Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia in the span of the last 30 minutes. It is also raining outside because you are in England.

Think about it…

Join us next time for the TnT Advice Column! Make sure to send your questions to TnTAdvice@gmail.com and follow us on Twitter! @taylorphinney and @tvangarderen88

I was just thinking… My poor, poor body.

Today will be the 8th day in a row that I throw my body into the fire, expect it to sit in that fire and come out of it alright. Today I expect that my body–since I ‘gifted’ it 10 hours of sleep–will actually be better than days prior. Today I expect that my body has gotten used to this abuse and will therefore complain less to me in the form of pain. The whole day I will feed it small sandwiches, and keep it hydrated–so it will maybe shut up, just for a moment.

This is the ultimate abusive relationship.

I tell my body to do something it doesn’t want to do, and it complains and complains until it breaks. The complaining never stops, it only becomes more and more dull. The duller the complaining, the faster I go.

And what will my body receive from me when it does step up to the challenge?

Well, it gets to go through the same pain the next day.

And then in two weeks time it gets to rest, but only so it can come back to life with a better tolerance for pain. It comes back stronger and I reap all the benefits. Then back into the fire it goes.

But really, what would life be without pain and suffering? Where would be if we never pushed ourselves? Surely, you could sit on a porch swing your whole life, rocking back and forth enjoying the view… While that actually sounds like heaven to me now, I know that I could never be satisfied in life if I didn’t PURSUE something. Everyday here at the Vuelta I have to remind myself that what I am doing, while very unnatural, is something I would be going through no matter who I was or what I was pursuing. In life you have to fight and you have to push yourself. To better yourself you must first find your limits. And then you have to conquer those limits to set new limits…and so on and so forth.

Whether you are at a desk chair or in some other sport, push yourself.

Find your limits. Only you have the power to create new ones.

3700 meters of climbing today–my body is STOKED.

Later.

-tp

Wowza. Spain is hot… Hot as balls. I’m not quite certain of the exact temperature of balls, but just based on feel, it seems appropriate.

Never have I wanted to be back in Belgian cold and rain more, than right now. Whatever, man up Taylor!

So… Hi. It has been a little while. For that I apologize. Eneco was crazy, super happy with how it went–would’ve loved a podium spot but getting 4th overall gives me something to aim for next year. After Eneco I spent a day and a half in Belgium–Izegem to be exact, where I spent months of my Junior and U23 career surviving the Euro-bike racing experience thanks to USA Cycling. I visited with old friends, rode with some of the Juniors who were at the house, and laid around in my hotel room a whole lot. Between Eneco and the Vuelty I had 5 full days to recover and I had to take advantage of every second as Eneco had left me quite drained.

Eneco finished on Sunday, and on Tuesday I flew to a scorching hot Spain ahead of the team who was to arrive Wednesday night.

Luckily (or unluckily after you finish this paragraph), the mechanics and soigneurs were at the hotel as well as my suitcase–meaning I could go for a nice bicycle ride. Wednesday afternoon, after lunch, I got some kit on and headed out, excited to explore an area of the world I hadn’t really experienced before. I penned out a route on Google Maps, and had my iPhone to guide me. We are in the beach town of Benidorm and I opted to ride into the hills, instead of cruising along the coast, figuring that I could find a nice quiet road to do some openers on. After climbing a fair bit, I found my road, and despite the heat, was enjoying myself very much, feeling good on the bike. I completed my efforts, reached the top, and decided it was time to cruise home. I flipped a U turn and began to descend down the twisty mountain road I had just come up. Let’s just say that I am a comfortable descender–as a big man who often gets dropped on climbs, I have to be. I wasn’t taking risks, I was merely enjoying myself. On a tight right hander I laid the bike down, pressing hard into my left pedal to counterbalance my steering, sitting far back onto the saddle–just like my parents had taught me countless times at their bike camp cornering clinics. Before I knew it I was on the ground. In an instant, my front had wheel washed out, without me touching the brakes. Our Continental tyres are even the grippy-est tyres I have ever ridden on. I lay on the ground, dumbstruck. The first thing I noticed was how hot the ground was, and how dirty the road was. Must’ve been a patch of oil. I got to my feet, and examined the damage as I walked my bike over to some shade. I just sat there, my wounds beginning to burn as they were not very deep. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t pissed, I couldn’t believe it! Oh well, time to go home I guess. I had another 30km until I got home, and decided to tough it out. I hopped back on the bike and coasted the rest of the way down the descent. In a very amateur move, I didn’t check the bike thoroughly and as I hit a little riser towards the bottom of the climb I shifted all the way into my lightest gear, small chainring on the front and biggest on the back. I heard, and felt, the derailleur catch the rear wheel (it got bent in the crash) and again, before I could react, I had ripped it clean off.

Now, I was screwed. I couldn’t even coast, I had no derailleur! It was sticking out the side of the bike. I felt quite stupid, found some shade again and stuck my thumb out. I could have had one of the staff come to pick me up but I felt that since I was in Spain, a very bike friendly country, I could just hitchhike home no problem.

And I was right! The first car I saw stopped and helped me put the bike in the back. In my broken Spanish I told him where to go and 25 minutes later I was safe and sound at the hotel. I offered to send him a full BMC kit, give him some money, anything but he wouldn’t take it.

Gracias hombre.

There is one moment I dread when it comes to crashing. It is not crashing itself but it is the post-crash shower/wound scrubbing session. Think about taking a flame thrower to your leg. While I haven’t experienced this, I believe it is a similar feeling. Terrrrrible.

The teams arrived that night and I was that guy with fishnet on his leg, making sure my bandages stayed on. Not exactly how I planned to start my first grandy but oh well! The next days were filled with bandage changing, sleeping solely on my left side, icing, the works. The day after the crash (two days ago) I felt quite good on the bike even though we had a nice 6:50AM wake up for UCI blood testing. Yesterday was the worst day, but I feel much better today–race day! The TTT course is quite tough but I think that we can pull out a big result with the team we have here!

Talk later.

-tp

This is an awesome retro video courtesy of my coach Neal Henderson of me racing when I was 16 (last year) in the Category 3 Parker Omnium in Parker, CO. I was a pretty big deal…(I wasn’t). The legend, Dave Towle is announcing.

Other cameos made by old friends Julian Kyer and Lydia Tanner. Good times!

Is where I train… It does not get better!

Bear with me. Or bare naked.

I rode my bicycle 4 hours today. I rode my bicycle 4 hours yesterday.