Fantasy (Tour of) Flanders; It's Going to be Scrum-diddly-umptious!

I've never played any kind of Fantasy Sports. My wife plays Fantasy Football every year, and usually does quite well. But I've never felt like I had the time to deal with it. Until now!

Don't get me wrong. There are not many sports that I don't enjoy watching (especially football). But no sport is as exciting as Professional Cycling (if you disagree, then you just don't understand the sport). And there is nothing more exciting than the spring, single-day classics in April!

So some friends of mine at work and I are having a little Fantasy Cycling pool during the month of April. Starting this weekend, with the Tour of Flanders. We have drafted three riders each. We will re-draft riders for the other two races in our pool (Paris-Roubaix and Leige-Bastogne-Leige). I got the first pick in our draft today since I was last place at our Tour de France pool last year (yes, I know, humiliating!). I ended up with "Big" Tom Boonen, "Big" George Hincapie, and "Perfect Size" (since he's only slightly smaller than me) Juan Antonio Flecha.

I'm hoping my team does well for me. Usually, when I pick riders for a team, they either crash out or get kicked out for doping (e.g., the last Rabobank rider I chose, Michael Rasmussen). Ahh yes. Michael Rasmussen. That jerk almost ruined my son's life!

You see, since I knew I would take time off when my son was born, I convinced my wife in September/October of 2006 that we should have a baby. That way, he (since I was sure we would have a boy!) would be born in July, just in time for the Tour! That turned out to be perfect timing for my "paternity leave" as I was then able to stay at home for most of the month of July in 2007 and take care of my wife and newborn WATCH THE TOUR!!! However, as I tend to get carried away with things when it comes to my excitement over professional cycling, this almost turned out horribly for my son.

Just before the Tour started, and just before my wife's "due date," I made a pledge to several friends that I would name my son after whomever won the stage the day he was born. As it turned out, my son was over a week late, so the Tour rolled along and he missed out on all the best names. We missed out on Fabian Cancellara Brooks, Thor Hushovd Brooks, Tom Boonen Brooks, and my personal favorite, Filippo Pozzato Brooks (I tried everything possible to induce labor on that day!).

But alas, he was born on July 15, the day that Michael Rasmussen won the stage. And while I can think of worse names than Michael to name a son--that's my cousin's and my brother-in-law's name--I can't think of a worse cyclist to name my son after (as he is a dirty cheater!). In the end, we decided to name him after my dad, John, who has, coincidentally, never won a stage at the Tour de France, but as far as I know has never taken performance enhancing drugs either. Oh well, maybe we'll have another child soon and we can name her (since we already have a boy) after this year's winner of this week's Tour of Flanders. I'm hoping that her name will be Juan Antonio Brooks, George Hincapie Brooks, or Tom Boonen Brooks.

How Fast Are You Willing To Go?

On this, the opening day of the Olympics, I was reminded of the above picture and decided to write my thoughts about it. The athlete puking up his Gatorade is Jarrod Shoemaker, who was the first male to qualify for the 2008 USA Olympic Team in the triathlon. I’m sure that picture says different things to different people. “Gross” might be a common response for many. Or “Why would he do that to himself?” for others. To me, it says that Jarrod Shoemaker is someone who is willing to hurt bad enough to win. Are you?

There is not a lot of separation physically between most US Olympic quality athletes. I believe what separates the athletes at the top is mostly mental. An athlete who clearly understands this as well as anyone is Lance Armstrong. I’m paraphrasing, but I remember him saying something along the lines of, “If it came down to who was willing to suffer the most, I was going to win every time.” Granted, Lance was faster and stronger than everyone else. But he was also willing to hurt more than they were. And he won because of it.

It's quite simple, really. SPEED HURTS. Believe it or not, I get a bigger knot in my stomach before an Olympic distance race than before a half-ironman (which is more than twice as far!) because I know what kind of pain I am about to put my body through. It's not necessarily "more painful," but it is a more intense kind of pain than you endure in longer races. Perhaps I’m not working hard enough during half-ironmans, I don’t know. But what I do know, is that regardless of what "fast" means to you, speed, for everyone, is very painful.

If you read this blog, then you know that I write a lot about how the mind will do everything it can to make you slow down. And you know that I believe the mind overreacts, which is why I have dubbed my right brain as the "Drama Queen" or DQ for short. I can almost ALWAYS go faster than DQ wants me to. We all have our own DQ. And there are lots of tricks that our DQs will play in order to try and slow us down. Just ask Jarrod Shoemaker. I’m convinced that I place high in races, not just because I am stronger or more fit, but because I am willing to hurt more than some of the guys behind me. I’m also convinced that I’m stronger than some of the guys (and women) that finish in front of me. But on that day, they are willing to hurt more than I am.

I’m not saying that you have to throw up to prove that you worked up to your level of fitness (I think the German to Shoemaker's right is giving his all as well -- he's definitely not enjoying himself). Only you can really know whether you gave your all. Personally, I’m not convinced that I have EVER raced as hard as I can. That’s a tough thing for me to admit. But I believe it is true. There’s only one thing I can do about that. I’m racing the next three weekends. Two of those are sprint distance races that will give me the opportunity to practice my willingness to hurt in a race situation. As a former coach of mine used to say, "It's not going to tickle." Regardless, it’s time to find out how fast I am willing to go.