New Wheels

It's been a long time since I've posted, so I'd better give a little update. We're almost half way through the 3rd year of dental school and Ginna is getting close to finishing her MBA. There is a very dim light at the end of our school tunnel, so we're getting slightly anxious. We're still trying to sell the house, but that's not going so well. There isn't much interest in it or any other house in the area. Again, there are more leaves on the grass than I could have ever imagined. Each year I forget about the volume of fallen leaves. It is depressing to look up at the trees in the yard and realize that half of the leaves still remain on the branches.

Thanksgiving is a good time of year for us. It's the time when we like to spend money on cars. A little more than 2 years ago we bought the subaru forester. Then, I promptly backed it into the neighbor's car while pulling out of the driveway. That was a nice way to start out the festivities. This year, we bought a new car for our Thanksgiving drive to Utah. It's a Land Rover Discovery. It gives us a little more room for the crew during the long drives. Here is a picture of the same car with some idealized off-road extras. Maybe we can add the roof rack and brush guard some time in the future. For some stupid reason I can't post an actual picture of the one we bought, but you can imagine us in the linked picture in Moab, on our way to Thanksgiving dinner in Utah.

Meanwhile, Max has been doing his best to teach us why it's called the "terrible twos". He's about as opinionated as it gets. His current favorite interest is CDs. We burned him some music and put a little CD player in his room. He really likes to listen to his favorite songs again and again and again and again and then cry when we stop it. Then he carries his CDs around the house, constantly requesting that we listen to them.
He is also in love with the new car. For example, today we dropped off the Rover at the shop for some expected maintenance before the Utah drive. As we were getting ready to leave the shop, Max looked over at the Rover in the parking lot and said, "let's all ride in the new car." We were surprised because Max is just beginning to piece entire sentences together on his own.
Max also loves the red car and will be very sad when we try to sell it later this month.

The most boring blog ever

So this is the most boring blog ever because it is never updated. The reason: check out my latest projects at http://www.pattersondentalcycling.com/
And check out our blog at pattersondentalcyclingblog.blogspot.com

Do I Actually Want To Be A Pediatric Dentist?

I'm back in school now after a small break. Actually, it was a long break but I had to waste 3 weeks of it studying for boards. And it's a good thing I did or else I may not have passed one of the sections. It seems I really suck at anatomy. I new I would have a hard time with it and I was right. Fortunately, I realized before the exam that I sucked at anatomy and I studied enough for it. While the anatomy section lowered my score overall, it wasn't so bad to do any real damage.

Now the question remains: do I really want to be a pediatric dentist? While in Utah, I spent a day at the University of Utah Children's Hospital with the pediatric dental residents. I have to admit that I really liked it. You couldn't help but feel bad for the little kids only 2 or 3 years old in need of full mouth reconstructions. I think it would be really rewarding to do cases like that.

Today I observed in the OR at Children's Mercy Hospital here in KC with UMKC's residents. Again, I really liked it. I have to admit that I would really like to go into a pediatric residency. The problem is that in admitting something like that I have to take on the responsibility of trying to make it happen. I have to hope again that I can get into a competitive program and try to solicit myself somehow.

I guess we'll just have to kind of see how things go for the next little while. Should be interesting.

The Floyd Lowdown

The Velonews posted a decent explanation of some of the legal issues involved in the Landis doping case. You can clearly see there was some shady moves on part of the UCI and the Lab--just further evidence for the Mustache and Beard Conspiracy.

Keep the Faith: Floyd's Real Explainations

Floyd posted a plea on his website asking us, the fans who thought we saw the most amazing cycling comeback ever, to Keep the Faith.

Well Floyd, I'm keeping the faith for you. And not only that, I'm going to offer Floyd's exclusive explanations for the positive tests--soundly based on reliable web research.

Let's just take a quick review of physiology and answer the question of what testosterone does.

"In general, androgens promote protein synthesis and growth of those tissues with androgen receptors. Testosterone effects can be classified as virilizing and anabolic effects, although the distinction is somewhat artificial, as many of the effects can be considered both. Anabolic effects include growth of muscle mass and strength, increased bone density and strength, and stimulation of linear growth and bone maturation. Virilizing effects include maturation of the sex organs, particularly the penis and the formation of the scrotum in fetuses, and after birth (usually at puberty) a deepening of the voice, growth of the beard and axillary hair. Many of these fall into the category of male secondary sex characteristics." Wikipedia

Just based on this description it is obvious to anyone who's seen Floyd that he is the only rider in the pro peleton who displays secondary sex characteristics consistent with high levels of testosterone. Floyd is the only rider sporting the mustache. In fact, the stache is so well developed and strong it frequently spills down onto his chin. So why don't we see more riders sporting the stache? Easy, it takes all the testosterone they have to keep them fit to ride--no excess for intimidating aesthetics.

Additionally, Floyd's cycling bibs are stuffed ful--leaving little to the imagination. The above mentioned hormonal effects are clearly in effect. This guy clearly has a lot of testosterone.

The failure of the test is clearly due to Floyd's physiology. And the French are jealous. The true conspiracy is that the French authorities are actually upset because, although they host the world's greatest cycling race, they haven't been chosen to host a World Beard and Moustache Championship. The French lack the needed testosterone to meet the stringent requirements of a host nation. After years of American domination in their premier sporting event--the US is hosting the 2009 World Beard and Moustache championships--the French can't take it anymore. Floyd is the fallguy.

#12

Second year of road riding: time for a new ride. The Allez was fun, but I couldn't even dream of being competitive. After a few more mechanical disasters Ginna decided to just get a new bike for me. She did the research and found a used Giant OCR for me. Now really, that's a great wife who not only finds a bike for you, but buys it too.

It's hard to complain about the Giant because I really liked it. In fact, I liked it so much that it stoked my cycling fire and things began to escalate out of control. Before I had the Giant my idea of a long ride was 25 miles. And for all my casual rides under 25 miles, the Giant was perfect. What I realized soon however, was that 25 is just a warm up and bikes are completely different beasts before and after the 50 mile mark. Post 50 the Giant struggled.

Additionally, racing really taxes a bike mechanically. The Giant was a great entry level bike, but it couldn't handle the work load I putting into it. It started to struggle and crackle and pop. I was again getting tired of the same old story--my bike in constant malfunction.

The frustration peaked at a race in Kansas, when I couldn't get into the pedals at the beginning of the criterium, which caused me to fall behind from the start. Once I was in a position to catch up, the derailluers gave up and so did I.

My next move had to be a pro level bike, one that could respond during the intensity of a race situation. It wasn't going to be easy, that's for sure--or cheap.

Gear Bane Part 2

Bike #11 was a black specialized Allez, pronounced al-ey, but I called it an al-ez for at least 6 months. It had a big gel seat and the tires were all dry and cracked apart. It had STI shifters (shifters integrated with brake levers) and 700c wheels, which made it good enough. I did what I could to clean it up and get it ready to ride, but I knew so little about road bikes I only created a greater monster.

I took the bike to Zac Doyle's shop in St. Louis, where we tried to fix some of the most obvious problems. First, the bottom bracket was bent. I don't know how that is possible, but it was. In fact, the crank was hardly turning. Zac didn't know anything about removing a bottom bracket although he was technically a mechanic at the shop. Since the threading on a BB isn't super obvious, we broke several tools and got the cup hopelessly stuck. Zac "hooked me up" with an new-old-stock eliptical chain ring which looked cool, but was actually designed for use with toe cages and was super out dated. It made the bike ride and shift much worse, but I believed it made me fast--for a while.

Later, I found about 10 yards of brown thread in the rear hub. I also didn't own a functional pump, so I could only pump up the tires with a crappy hand pump from Wal-mart. Road tires are supposed to run at 100+ psi and I probably never had mine above 60!

I took the Allez to club rides in Waldo, where I always got pounded by a really weak field. On my first ride, I was relieved to find a rider who I could keep up with, only to find out that she was about 40 years old and overweight. As a 25 year old male, I was embarrassed.

Ultimately, I took the Allez to a legit shop. They almost died when I showed it to them. It was dubbed the Frankenbike because as I found it, the shifters and derailleurs weren't made to cooperate. Nonetheless, the shop made it rideable.

I decided to race in the Tour of Kansas City. I bought the cheapest padded bike shorts I could find and wore a t-shirt to the race. The Allez and I got dropped in the first lap of just 4. I remember vividly as I was struggling up a hill and a kid from the junior's heat was beating me up it. I was standing with my hands in the drops, so was the kid. I heard his dad yell, "get your hands out of the drops, hold up high!" I just kept in the drops, so I didn't look like I didn't know what I was doing.

As soon as I could afford it, the Allez had to go.

Gear Bane Part 1

Today I may have put closure to an issue that has complicated and frustrated my love for cycling since the beginning. (It's cycling season, so bear with some more cycling chatter) Let me first shed some light on this subject with some personal history.

Bike #1: My first bike, a schwinn BMX style bike. It was a nice bike, but my neighbor had a bike with hand brakes and a freewheel. I was jealous.

BIke #1.5--the bike I never had. I used to covet a BMX bike with a lot of plastic on it I saw in a catalogue. I kept the picture under my pillow and used to pray that I would get one. I showed it to my dad and he said it was a piece of crap, but that I wouldn't get it anyway.

Bike #2 was another BMX that had been my uncles. My dad bought it from him as a favor and probably overpaid him for it. All the same it was pretty cool. I enjoyed it until my dad decided that he didn't think I was riding it and it was donated to the Goodwill one weekend.

Bike #3 was a mountain bike from Walmart. It was blake with neon green paint splashes on it. It was a 18 speed without indexed shifters--they never really worked. One day at the local dirt hills I learned that cool bikes had center pull brakes, which my bike didn't have. I was bummed.

Bike #4: I never really had this bike, because it was my moms. Dad bought two identical bikes for himself and mom, hoping they could ride together--I'm about 95% sure Mom never rode more than 30 yards on that bike. They were Schwinn criss-cross bikes, which means they were not really road bikes and not really mountain bikes either. I remember being at the bike shop with Dad and trying to tell him that the dedicated mountain bikes were much cooler, but Dad has an aversion to owning cool things. No mountain bikes.
I spend the next few years pretending that the criss-cross was a legit bike. I used to ride it back to visit friends my family had moved away from and to rode to school. Still, it was technically my mom's bike.

Next came the dark years when I should have been developing my cycling, but instead chose to roller blade. Oh well, my friends would have killed me for wearing spandex back then.
Meanwhile, all of my siblings got new bikes which were all cooler than the criss-cross, but since I had been riding it as if it was mine, there was no reason to get me a new one.

In college--at CU--I really wished I had a mountain bike. Of course, I was busy playing Tbone and being lazy. On one occasion a girl I was interested in let me borrow her bike to run some errands for her around campus. It was the awesomest bike I had ever ridden. It had working shocks and grip shift. I took some long detours that day.

Bike #5: It took until Osnabruck for me to get my next bike. It was a Spartan brand with a basket on the back. That wasn't so embarrassing in Europe. Unfortunatly, Oliver Kusch, the crazy German loved cycling and had built up a bike for himself, which I would spend the next 6 months chasing. One night, my crank arm broke off when we were 10 km from home. I had to work it with one leg and no clip in shoes.

Bike #6: Still in Osnabruck the Spartan was replaced with a aluminum mountain bike of unknown brand. All I remember about this bike was that it was a lot more nimble than the spartan and I liked it. Oliver and I rode almost endlessly for our 6 months together.

Bike #7: In Herne I got another Dutch made city bike not too different from the Spartan. I spent some time and money to make this one a little more aggressive. I also began using a helmet, which I got from a friend who had reshaped it into a custom fit. I'm sure it was structurally compromised.
While in Herne, I met Dave Reeder, who had worked at a bike shop and raced BMX. Together we dreamt up bikes in catalogues and talked about how I was going to get into racing as soon as I got home. I would also build up a bike from scratch.

So, I get home and my parents give me the criss-cross to take to school. I ride it to work for about a month, but it doesn't shift, it's inherent lack of coolness has only been compounded by the fact that it is now getting old. After a month, I abandon it to turn into a pile of rust in the bike rack behind my apartment complex.

Bike #8: What luck! the girl I'm dating (and would eventually marry) owns what appears to be a sweet bike. It's a yellow/Orange Haro with a blue suspension fork. I borrow it and take it mountain biking. Within 10 minutes, I've flatted and have no way to fix it. I hike it back to the car and later replace the tube before returning it.
After we were married and had returned from living in Vienna, my desire to ride was again ignited. I began commuting to school and back on Ginna's Haro. I also started trying to mountain bike on it.
The bike was small and light, but that was also the problem. Ginna had just pulled the bike from the rack at the shop and bought it. The frame was a small, probably 15inches at the most. It was quite uncomfortable and also not made to be ridden hard. Soon it was falling apart in about a million ways. Commuting was getting hard.

Bike #9: It's about time. I get my first bike that I can lay claim on since I was in elementary school. Ginna's pulls off a miracle and gets me a Trek 4500 MTB. I wasn't surprised because a day or so before I got it I had a dream that I got that exact bike for my birthday and sure enough, I did. I downplayed the dream, so Ginna wasn't bummed by the lack of surprise, but it was cool.
The Trek was actually the right size and functionally sound enough that I could get going with the hobby I had wanted to get into for years. Within 6 months I had SPD pedals and shoes, not to mention a real helmet, not customized/compromised. I had a blast with this bike.

Bike #10: In Kansas City, there are not a lot of mountains. Enter Peugot. The Tour de France was on TV and I absolutely was dying without a road bike. The problem was, I had no money. Work was all but dead for Ginna and we had blown our savings on moving. I remembered that when my Grandpa was running the DI thrift store in Delta a Trek road bike came in; I thought I might find a similar treasure. I drove to every thrift store in KC that claimed to have a road bike, eventually buying a $15 Peugot from Savers. I took to the bike shop and tried to buy some upgraded parts on it, so I could hit up some of the local club rides. The guys at the shop laughed at me, when I brought the bike. The Peugot was not a road racing bike, rather an old ten speed. I didn't even know there was a difference at that point. Embarrassed, I pretended like I knew the Peugot was a joke all the time and I started driving to pawn shops.

Bike #11: Specialized Allez. Still no money, and a burning desire for a bike. I did the irresponsible. I busted out the credit card at the pawn shop, haggled a price (which scares me to death) and bought the Allez, telling myself I would pay it back with what else, student loans....this is just getting good, but I have to go to bed.

Stay tuned.

L'Alp d'Heuz learning curve

Lately, my life's learning curve has been exhaustingly steep. In the clinic every task is something I am doing for the first time. Here's the formula: patient making a financial sacrifice to get treatment + student doctor who has never performed any of the treatments before + lots of sharp instruments and needles = überstress. Did I mention that academic board exams are coming up?

Additionally, we are trying to sell our house and buy a different one. There are problems on every side of this issue. No one wants to buy our house. The house we want needs a new roof among other things. At every corner I'm intimidated by the tasks that have to be done for this deal to work out.

And I sold a trombone and bought a disaster of a race bike. Great bike, great wheels, great parts, but they don't play well together. A case of the sum of the parts being much greater than the whole. Meanwhile, I'm racing it anyway, with more or less success, depending on how often I need to change gears.

Speaking of cycling, building a cycling team has been surprisingly difficult. Last week alone we learned that our contacts at our 2 largest sponsors were leaving their jobs. We were also informed that our jersey order was going to take an additional month due to errors on their part. (never use Atac sportswear) Now we have to try to get payment for everything before our contacts leave their companies.

I guess there are periods in life when you make a lot of changes and every step you take has to be in uncharted territory. Good thing there is Max to help me remember that all this stuff means very little--not that he doesn't add to life's challenges. Ha.