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Monday, November 1, 2010

Through A Spotted Lens

In addition to the mental struggles resulting from cross ass kickings, this week I was visited by the cold, hard reality of cycling politics. It came, kicked me in the balls and stood over me while I lay on the ground writhing in pain, all the while laughing in my face.

It started out by hearing that I didn’t have a spot on Mt. Khakis next year. The team is downsizing due to sponsor difficulties and there just wasn’t enough money to support a larger squad. It immediately put me in a bind since I hadn’t been talking to any other teams and this news was coming in late. Most teams have already finalized their rosters for next season which has left me struggling to find a ride. However, I can’t be too upset. No one ever told me I had a spot for next year so I should have had contingency plans in place. I believed too many rumors, thought I was safe and learned a hard lesson.

The salt in the wound came later. Without going into too much detail, I had to sit here and listen to the back door dealings that go along with elite cycling teams. And yes, even in elite cycling money walks, or maybe it rides. Either way, it stung bad. My situation wasn’t actually affected. I didn’t have a spot before or after all this transpired. It’s not like my spot was taken from me, I never had it. And it doesn’t change what I have to do now. Namely, find a ride or just train my ass off over the winter, show up next year in a black kit and stomp the hell out of some races. Nevertheless, it was a shitty situation and there was some sleep lost.

The other day I was out riding, watching the scenery pass through my trusty sunglasses. The lenses are spotted from two full seasons of racing. They’ve been through a lot. Epic races where they were so caked in dirt and grime that you used more water cleaning them than you drank. The days of riding in oppressive heat, sweat covering them in a layer of salt, then having to clean it all off the next day so you can do it over again. I couldn’t help but get mad. It signified how hard I’ve worked over the past couple years but I’m left with no team and no support for next year. I’ll probably be wearing those same glasses next year because I won’t have a sponsor to give me shiny new ones. Nor do I have the money to buy them because I have to pay for all my equipment and still get to races. It’s incredibly frustrating. I felt like I finished the year strong and showed that I have the potential to be successful at the next level. So to be in this situation now is hard to stomach.

My week has been spent contacting people, scrambling to try to find a ride for next year. Needless to say, my efforts haven’t been particularly successful. It’s a tough market to begin with and the fact that it’s so late certainly isn’t helping my cause. Worst case scenario is, as I said; show up next year in a black kit, kick ass and hope some opportunities come up. So that’s what I’m preparing myself for. I’m still hoping I can find a team but I’m preparing myself for the worst. I’m sure as hell not going out like this, bitter and disappointed. It’s time to get all George McFly and lay out Biff to get the girl. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, you either don’t know shit about Back to the Future or you don’t know shit about me!

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