Author Archives: Joe

Race Report: Canada Day Criterium (Crazieness Canadensis)

Canada Day has come and gone, and along with it the Canada Day Criterium in which Fiera Race Team’s Cory “Sugar” Boddy was contesting the Category Five (Cat 5) criterium race. I should say here that Cory is not new to racing and he is fast.  He would probably fit well into Cat 4 or 3, but to get out of Cat 5, you have to earn your way out by placing well in races.  In road cycling, it is not often the fastest rider that wins, but often the rider that has the best team, or choses the right time to attack, or the right time to rest, or just happens to get right behind the right rider.  Further, a lot can go wrong in a race, and there are only so many races in a season, and only so many weekends available for racing, so sometimes moving up a category is a monuments task.

Cory Body, poster child for the 2011 Xterra Duathlon takes the time for some fan photos, to sign some autographs, and a shot interview with the Fiera Report.

Cory Body, poster child for the 2011 Xterra Duathlon takes the time for some fan photos, to sign some autographs, and a short interview with the Fiera Report.

For those that are not familiar, I will provide a brief explanation of what exactly a Cat 5 criterium is:
Imagine if you will, a 1 to 1.5 km long obstacle course in the form of a circuit, and comprised of narrow streets, and sharp corners. Obstacles include manhole covers, storm grates, curb bump-outs, potholes, stray dogs, and poorly attended children. Now imagine 25 or so nervous, adrenaline-hopped, and fairly frightened, aspiring athletes with experience ranging from zero to almost none, hurling themselves around this circuit as fast as they possibly can, riding in a tight group such that their wind resistance is not that of 25 nervous individuals, but rather that of a single frightened beast.  As they lean into the corners, their naked, freshly shaved legs come within a few short inches of the road surface which is essentially a concrete belt-sander revving at speeds well into the 50 kph range, poised to shred skin, spandex, and carbon fibre at any opportunity. Elbows touch, wheels bump, adrenaline swirls in their wake, and inevitably, the belt sander reaches up to take a few of them. Please don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean to imply that these races are dangerous, as there are ample safety measures taken. Almost all riders, for instance, wear fingerless gloves which of course protect each racer from suffering the discomfort of being fully gloved. Further, many racers wisely wear sunscreen, thus preventing the affliction of a nasty sunburn while they lay at the curbside beside their broken bicycle waiting for a first aider or maybe an ambulance while the race continues on without them.  Further yet, it is mandatory for the sake of both safety and fashion that each racer have perched upon their head and securely fastened under the chin by a ribbon, a bit of styrofoam to protect the road surface should their heads collide forcefully with it. Finally, each bicycle is equipped with two safety levers on the handlebars, one on the right, and one on the left. The right lever serves to warn riders behind not to follow too close.  A rider feeling crowded from behind simply squeezes the right lever forcefully causing his bicycle to slow suddenly, only for a moment.  The rider behind, in the interest of safety, applies his right lever more forcefully causing his bicycle to slow more suddenly for a longer period of time, and so on, causing a happy rippling shudder of safety and well-being to pass through the group, from front to back, growing exponentially more pronounced as it goes. At the back of the group, a blissfully unaware racer with his eyes rolled to the back of their sockets, and wondering “why, why, why did I do this to myself?” and “why, why, why did I pay money to do this to myself?” will become aware of the approacing shutter of safe cyclists too late, and he will be forced to apply the left lever (also called the front brake).  The left lever engages an emergency rider ejection system ingeniously powered by the perfect ratio of panic and inertia. The endangered racer is promptly ejected out of danger, hurtled up and over the handlebars to the awaiting safety of the belt sander I mentioned previously. He will slide along the belt sander for half a city block, while his $5000 bicycle cartwheels along beside him, the happy spectacle of which will likely entice others to engage the panic and inertia ejection systems on their own $5000 bicycles. The sound of bodies colliding with curbs, and carbon fibre skidding unabated along residential asphalt will ring like music in the ears of those whom continue racing, giving pleasurable goosebumps and causing them to look back over their shoulders at the scene, while spectators look away, covering the eyes of their children.   The ejected riders will eventially come to rest, and those that are conscious will worry for their bicycles, and those that are able, and who’s bicycles are able, will probably get back on their bikes and rejoin the race, ignoring the gaping rips in their spandex, their buttock visible to all who dare look, oozing red, pink and clear fluids in quiet mourning for the skin left smeared on the pavement.

Cory Sugar Boddy and others keeping the rubber side down in typical criterium fashion.

Cory Sugar Boddy and others keeping the rubber side down in typical criterium fashion, Canada Day, 2014.

So now that you know what a criterium is all about, I won’t keep you in suspense any longer. Cory survived the Canada Day Criterium in Cat 5, with bike, spandex, and buttock fully intact. In fact, he finished in a very respectable 7th place, earning him some valuable upgrade points that could help him move up into Category 4, where the pace is faster, the bikes are more expensive, and hopefully fear and panic and inexperience play slightly less of a role.  You can see all the results of the Canada Day races here.

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Thanks Fiera Race Team, from Clara Hughes.

thank you

2014 Season Donations

Team,

As you may remember, for each race one of our club members participates in, they can register their result and entry fee amount on this website. At the end of the year, Fiera Biological Consulting then makes donations matching the sum of these fees to our chosen charities.  As a result, Fiera Biological Consulting has just made donations totalling $3742.50 to the following charities:

Camp Health Hope & Happiness Society

The Canadian Red Cross Society

Stollery CHildren’s Hospital Foundation

Food Banks Canada

Doctors Without Borders Canada

Right To Play

Thanks for racing, and helping to have an impact.  We are looking forward to more awesomeness in 2015.

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Link

Aaron Schooler HR Block / Norco

Aaron Schooler HR Block / Norco

Cool footage of a local legend. 

Fiera Race Gaggle

Over the past four years since the inception of Fiera Race Team, it has often been suggested that we change the name to remove the word “Team”.  The reason given for this suggestion is that the word implies exclusivity, and elite level competitiveness, and so, intimidates potential members who are not at an elite level of competitiveness.  Officially we are Fiera Race Club, if that helps.

Because I have heard these suggestions so frequently, I have to admit that it is an issue.  However, I am stubborn, and despite continued pressure, I insist that the word “team” is a positive thing. Frankly, I love seeing the word TEAM on our Jersey because to me it means a group of people working together to common goals – in our case these goals are physical activity, fitness, camaraderie, charitable works, enhanced community.  In no way is the team meant to be exclusive or imply the requirement of a high level of skill or commitment on the part of our members.  Anyone is welcome, no try-outs, no expectations.

When my nephew was 5, he was afraid of the letter “Y”.  With so many things in the world to be afraid of, he chose the letter “Y”,  not the small letter “y” mind you,  just the big letter “Y”.  As much as his family acknowledged and respected his fear of the big bad “Y”,  they couldn’t really protect him from it because there wasn’t really anything to protect him from.  I feel the same way about protecting potential club members from the word “Team”, its not possible.

Frankly, if you have never done it before, racing is intimidating, and so is joining a new club and meeting a bunch of people who already know each other.  Wether we call ourselves a team, a club, a coalition, a committee, a gang, a pack, a heard, a flock or a gaggle, it is still going to be a little scary. You are going to feel like you don’t belong, and as if everyone around you knows that you are new………for about five minutes.  It is those 5 minutes that people fear, not the word “Team”.  I know this first hand.  It took me over a year to work up my courage to walk in to a bike shop and say the words, “so……..can anyone join your club?” That was honestly one of the most important moments of my life, as it began an exciting adventure of friendships, fitness and competition that has provided a richness and balance to my life that I am not sure I would have found otherwise.

We are a Team, and for me that means that I don’t have to be fast, or win, or race at every opportunity or in every discipline — because as a member of a team, I share in the successes of everyone else on my team. For me, the fact that we are a team takes the pressure off and makes racing less intimidating.  The fact that the word Team seems to cary negative connotation punctuates for me what is wrong with sport in general, and rather than cave in and stop referring to our club as a team, I am more inclined to dig my heals in and try to reclaim the word Team as the positive thing I believe it to be.

Finally, if you are considering joining our club, make sure you check out the About Us page on this website.  I think we do a good job there explaining what the team is all about. In my opinion, there is no better club out there for a relaxed, no pressure attitude toward racing and competition.  Now watch this, and then sign up.

See you at the starting line.

Dear Edmonton City Councillor: An Open Letter

Dear Mr. Diotte,

Thank you for taking the time to consider this correspondence. I am writing to let you know that as a car-owner, a constituent of Ward 11, and an active voter in municipal elections, I am fully in support of the 2013 plans for bicycle routes and lanes in the City of Edmonton.

I am saddened by the tone of the rhetoric against the bike lanes in the media to-date, and am certain that it is primarily rooted in an inappropriate culture of entitlement nurtured in many car owners. I say inappropriate for a number of reasons:

1) The primary argument seems to be that the rights of a majority for parking outweighs the rights of the minority to safety. As you know, cyclists face disproportionate risk when they are in conflict with cars, and bike lanes and designated routes go a long way to buffering cyclists from hazards and reminding drivers that they share the road with people more vulnerable than themselves. I think vulnerable is a key word here Mr. Diotte, and I hope you will show some leadership on this issue and help support the efforts to provide bicycle lanes and routes to keep Edmonton’s vulnerable commuters, more safe.

2) The people who are anti-bikelane seem to think that because cyclists have a choice not to cycle, that they are entirely responsible for what happens to them on their commute, and accordingly, they incorrectly believe that it’s not up to the City to provide infrastructure to make commuting by bicycle more safe. Nor do they believe that car owners/drivers should have sacrifices imposed on them to make streets safer for cyclists.  If we apply this logic without bias, the tables are easily turned; car owners have made the choice to own and drive cars,and most have the option not to; therefore, why is it the responsibility of the city to ensure they have street-front to park on? Further, what car owners sacrifice for the imposition of a bicycle lane amounts to, in most cases, an inconvenience, while what cyclists sacrifice when bike lanes are given over to car parking is in the most literal way, their safety, and all too often, their lives.

3) There seems to be an opinion that cyclists, and bike-lanes, and the supporters of bike-lanes are somehow radical. This is far from the truth.  The majority of great cities in the world accommodate bicycles and recognize the services that they provide, namely pollution-free transportation that requires minimal space and minimal infrastructure to support. This is not radical, it is common sense and it is time that Edmonton joined the enlightened by recognizing the value that bicycles provide as a mode of transportation that goes beyond recreation.

Given all of this Mr. Diotte, it seems to me that you and the rest of the Edmonton City Councillors are on the verge of something important, something defining.  Do you give in to the masses of the vocal self interested, or lead the City of Edmonton down a more accommodating, safer, and modern road to a better society?

Truly, Mr. Diotte, with some leadership, some white paint, and some no-parking signs, the City of Edmonton can protect the vulnerable, promote healthier lifestyles, reduce CO2 emissions, set an example for other municipalities, and join the other great enlightened cities of the world. Or, you can take the easy route by giving in to those willing to risk the lives of others so that they can “park out front”; meanwhile, Edmonton’s cyclists will continue to risk life and limb.

The Mayor has described this bike lane initiative as a nightmare, an unfortunate choice of words to say the least.  To you, the Mayor, and the rest of the Edmonton City Councillors, I suggest that far better example of a nightmare is getting the news that a loved one was needlessly crushed beneath the wheels of a cement truck while commuting to school in a city far behind the times when it comes to promoting and facilitating safe urban bicycle traffic.

Sincerely,
__________________
Joseph Likte

School of Cross: 2012 Results

The first weekend of regular season cross racing in Alberta is all wrapped up.

School of Cross results can be found here.

School of Cross, 2012

 

School of Cross 2012

School of Cross 2012

 

Race Report: Perogy XC — the long road to an Expert upgrade!

For those that may not know, in Alberta, mountain bike racers are divided into ability categories.  Everyone begins in Novice (unskilled or unproven), and they upgrade through Sport (skilled but undisciplined), and then through Expert (motivated, disciplined, on-their-way or out-of-their league), to ultimately peak at Elite (sponsored, professional, live on their bike).  Essentially, racers earn points by placing in the top 8 of selected racing events. First-place earns a racer 20 points, while 8th place earns only 2 points.  It takes 40 points to upgrade from Sport to Expert, and they must be earned in the current season or the previous season.  In other words, the points from three seasons ago do not count, only this year and last year.

I began aspiring to upgrade to the Expert ability category in mountain bike racing after my first Sport Race in 1999. Yes, that’s correct; I have been trapped here in Sport for 13 years in a kind of fat-tire purgatory beset upon me as punishment for not training during the winter, and not finding time in the summer to race frequently.  I came in to 2012 season with zero points, having had an unmotivated training and racing year in 2011.  I was starting from scratch.  Now maybe you are thinking that someone with 13 years of racing experience should have learned enough tricks and techniques to give him a racing advantage. Well, sure, I have learned a few things…..for instance I have become more aware that bones break, and more and more I concern myself with the fact that men in their 40s have heart attacks; I have learned that when part of a race course is technical enough that the organizer provides a go-around option, I should probably take the go-around; and I have learned that heavy bikes don’t break as frequently as light bikes, and cost less to repair. Believe me; this knowledge has not made me faster—at least not relative to the youthful daredevil competition riding five thousand dollar bikes.  Whatever I have learned that might be a racing advantage is certainly cancelled out by my relative age. Even 13 years ago, I was older than most of the young cyclists I line up with now in the Sport category.  Many are recent upgrades from Novice.  Twenty-somethings that attack the downhills as if, in fact, bones don’t break, and bikes don’t crash. And they attack right off starting line, as if taking their heart rate from 60 to 215 beats per minute (bpm) in less than 60 seconds poses no risk or discomfort what so ever.

I am pretty sure that if my heart rate has ever gone to 215 bpm, that it was only once, and it was during a foot race against my best friend and rival, Richie Fairholm, in grade 2.  The girls in our grade had just voted Richie both the cutest boy in our grade, and also the fastest.  I was quick to protest the validity of this declaration, and since I couldn’t think of a more objective way to measure cuteness than to put it to a vote, I focused my arguments on speed, and quickly organized a foot race between Richie Fairholm and myself to objectively measure who was the fastest. I ran like I had never run before. I trounced him irrefutably with the whole class assembled to witness it.  “Fine” said the girls of grade two, “but Richie is still the cutest”. That was ok with me, and I went home that afternoon proud of my accomplishment, and quite satisfied that some small wrong had been corrected.  The next day, the girls of grade two voted Richie Fairholm to be the fastest boy in our grade, again. I was a big fan of The Peanuts cartoon specials in those days, and it struck me then how much the life of Charlie Brown and my own life had in common.  “GOOD GRIEF!” I thought to myself, helplessly.  Ever since then, being fast has been important to me, while my faith in democracy and my tolerance of 8-year-old school girls, has remained somewhat strained.

And, so, to the point of this report, I did it.  After thirteen years in Sport, I have upgraded to Expert. No, the ABA did not assemble a bunch of 8-year-old girls to put it to a vote; I earned my final 10 points in Sport this weekend, to total 40.  It was at the Perogy  XC mountain bike race put on by Pedalhead Bicycleworks in Edmonton, and to get my 10 points I had to finish no worst than 4th place against some of the fastest mediocre mountain bikers in Alberta.  Those of you who follow my blogs (Mom) may remember that I had a particularly rough day at this race last year.  It was hot, and I suffered and came close to quitting.  So when the long-range forecast predicted plus 30 °C temperatures for race-day this year, I started drinking (water this time, not beer).  I got some advice from Coach Stefan (from Next Stop Kona) who encouraged me to include complex carbohydrates in my waterbottles during the race; and to be double-sure, I also included some orange juice, a spoon full of sugar, and a quarter teaspoon of salt.  I coaxed Shari to work for me in the feed zone where she managed two coolers; one full of ice and bottles of my elixir concoction, and the other full of ice and bottles of pure refreshing water for dumping on my head and down my back to keep me cool. I was ready for the heat.

I had a great start, and was the third rider into the single track off the start.  I was quickly passed in the feed zone and relegated to fourth.  I attacked on the series of three big climbs and regained third, only to be passed at the bottom of the decent by a slew of riders, and relegated down to 8th by about half way through the first lap.  There was still some climbing left in the lap though, and by the time I was back through start finish to begin my second lap, I had moved back up to 7th.  My first feed came early in the second lap where Shari was vigilant in the feed zone, holding up a choice of my miracle elixir or water.  I had not had much time to drink, so my bottle of elixir was still full, I called for the water, but with only one bottle cage, what to do? The feed zone ended with a steep drop where I needed both hands, so I quickly tucked the bottle down the front of my jersey like a busty waitress might do with a 5-dollar tip.  Sexy, I know! Then, when I could manage some one-handed cycling, I dumped the sweet cool essence of life over my head, and felt immediately refreshed.  Again I attacked on the series of three big climbs, and worked my way into 5th; with 4th (Jason Redfern, Pedalhead) in sight, and 6th place (Brendan Romano, Mud Sweat and Gears) gaining on me.

Back through start/finish and the feed zone for the last time with 6th place about 5 bike-lengths back, Shari was ready with two more bottles but I could see right away that they were both my elixir.  I have a water bottle system, mixed liquids in clear bottles, and water in opaque (problem is I never told Shari about the system). As I called for water, she dropped one of the elixir bottles, and picked up a bottle of water—perfect. When I reached her, I dropped the spent bottle from by bottle cage at her feet and in one smooth and practiced motion grabbed the bottle of water from her hand and placed it securely in the cage. Now this is where things became less smooth, and less practiced; as I raised my head to look her in the eyes and smile gratefully, she took the remaining bottle of elixir she was holding, which she thought was water, and sprayed me right in the face.  Still pedaling forward, I was momentarily blinded (although gratefully refreshed), I reached up to grab the elixir bottle from her.  Intent on her plan to spray me, she was reluctant to let go, and the ensuing brief wrestling match caused me to nearly take out most of the feed zone.  By the time I had relived Shari of the bottle and stuffed it down my low-cut cycling blouse to get two hands back on my handlebar, 6th was a half wheel behind me. “Good Grief!”  Luckily, the elixir in the face worked to refresh me, and I rode the tight singletrack that came after the feed zone with some enthusiasm, and managed to put a nice 50-meter gap into 6th before the trail widened again.  This was to no avail however, because I took the widening trail as an opportunity to dump my bottle of water over my head, discard the empty bottle, and fish out the bottle of elixir that was working its way down out the bottom of my jersey; and though I negotiated this task to completion without loosing any speed, just before my right hand returned to its prudent position on my handlebar, the end of my handlebar caught a small shrub and turned my front wheel sharply 90 degrees to my direction of travel.  The laws of physics (objects in motion and that sort of thing) took control immediately and I launched headlong over the handlebars. I managed to get to my feet in time to pull my bike off the trail and let 6th place go by, now 5th.  “Good Grief!” This was not going to get me the points I needed to upgrade! Nothing short of a 4th place finish would suffice.

After a quick check to make sure there was no damage to the bike (borrowed from Shari), I jumped back on and got to work. I descended to the foot of the first big climb of the lap taking a few more risks than the previous lap, hoping to catch site of the racer in front of me.  At the foot of the climb I could see he was close, and that he was passing the 4th place rider.  Again I attacked on the climbs, and emerged at the top in 4th place.  The final climbs to finish the last lap were hard, but I knew they would be hard for the racers behind me as well.  As the course opened up and flattened out near the start finish, I hammered hard for the line, glancing back over my shoulder to ensure that glory could not be snatched from me.  As I crossed the line, I was not raised aloft on the wings of glory or swept away in a wave of pride at my achievement.  Instead, I felt the heaviness of well-earned fatigue, and heard a quiet, apathetic voice in my head speak clearly, providing perspective; “Today you set out to reach for the height of your cycling achievement and you did it, you actually did it Charlie Brown…….. you finished fourth.

So what was the big difference between this year and last year? Well, I trained pretty hard last winter, so I might be in better shape, though mostly I have not trained since early May, so maybe not.  The big difference was probably having Shari in the feed zone, encouraging me, letting me know where I was at in the race, and hosing me down with a solution of salty fruit juice and complex carbohydrates. I highly recommend it.  Full results can be inspected here.

Race Report: Northern Spring Series 4.0

Now with photos! Thanks to Travis.

This was the final race of the Spring Series, and approximately 80 riders braved the marauding hail storms, for one last shot at early season glory.  There were some fast faces in the A group, and though I don’t know much about how that unfolded, I do know that there was an early break that was ultimately unsuccessful, and that all fingers were crossed in an attempt to ward off getting caught by a chasing hailstorm; also unsuccessful. Despite getting pelted from the heavens with stinging balls of ice that filled up the air vents on their bicycle helmets so that the peloton experienced what I imagine amounted to a collective ice cream headache, they completed the 78 km race at a blistering pace.

Again, I don’t know much about how the C race went, but I did get a few details from our Embedded C Race Reporter, and all round Kick-Ass-Blaster, Lesley Baldwin.  According to Lesley, the C field, after witnessing Duncan take third place in Saturday’s Race, had him marked as the favourite to win on Sunday.  She overheard guys in the peloton conspiring to “stay close to him”, to “cover his attacks”, to “stay on his wheel”, to “not let him get away”– all to no avail.  Duncan managed to break from the pack near the end of the race and sprinted to a glorious win.  His first win with Fiera Race Team, his second podium, and only his second race as our newest Teammate.

Kick-Ass-Blaster, Lesley Baldwin

The B race did not go as planned.  Waiting for the race to begin, Jan, Keegan and I sat in the ditch at staging while we strategized, shivered, and let the intermittent drizzle wash away our will to race.  We all agreed, that without Stefan to conduct us, the best course of action was to “sit-in”, that is, to remain un-noticed within the peloton, conserving our energy for the sprint finish, or to maybe try to get in to a late breakaway.  With the best of intentions, we completely abandoned this plan roughly 2 minutes in to the race.  A rider for Pedalhead attacked right from the start, and he was fast.  We were all caught off guard, and before we knew it he had about a 700 m gap, and was gaining.  No one was in a hurry to take charge and shut it down, and I overheard riders who knew the guy in the breakaway, saying that he would be very hard to catch.  Oh well, not my problem, I’m just sitting-in today.  Still, I couldn’t help moving to the front where I thought I might do a little work if the peloton got organized and started to try to catch him.  Then there was an attack from two racers, Juventus, and Bulls eye, and before I really had time to think about it, I went with them.  I looked over my shoulder and the peloton appeared oblivious—who could blame them we were less than 3 km in to a 65 km race.  A few km later, Keegan managed to bridge, and came by me to take a pull on the front.  “So much for sitting in” I said. “Yeeehawhh” he replied.  “Cool beans” I thought to myself.

We, the chase group, were flying. Nearly 60 kph approaching the first corner, and 40 kph up the hill to the second corner. Still, it took us one and a quarter laps to catch the breakaway.  Now we were the breakaway.  A look over my shoulder revealed the sizable gap we had put on the main pack in the first 20 minutes of our effort, I had to squint to see them back there.  Still, I did not like our odds. This is not what I intended.  I had wanted to shut down a breakaway, and jumped into the chase group to prevent it from becoming dangerous.  It was certainly not my intention to turn myself inside out in an all-race breakaway. I think the smart thing to do here would have been for one of Keegan or I to stop working, to just sit in the draft on the breakaway, ensuring that one of had an advantage in the event that the break actually succeeded.  Still, what little chance the break had would be even less with one of us not pulling his weight, so, we turned ourselves inside out.  For 48 km, we averaged 38km per hour with sections of up hill, headwind, and crosswind. Eventually Mark (Hardcore) bridged to us, and I knew our time at the front was limited. Still, we had stayed away for so long, and with only about 18 km to go. I was in denial.  Our effort stayed high. But as we approached the 17 k to go mark, I looked over my shoulder and saw the roughly 40 riders on my wheel.  I sat up, felt a few riders pat me on the back, congratulating me for the hard work.  But I was still in denial.  I moved back to the front as we rounded a corner, a break immediately formed, and I jumped on.  I marvelled at the speed and strength I felt at that time, efficiency like I had never experienced, as if the fuel to oxygen ration in my race engine had suddenly been changed, and the rpm and horsepower that I could put out had suddenly doubled. My race-engine whined at an output, unprecedented, and as we came fully around that corner and hit the first gentle climb of that section, she blew up. I came sputtering down from an eight-cylinder muscle car to a poorly tuned single-stroke moped in less than a couple pedal revolutions.  The breakaway sped away, the peloton ate me up, and I passed out the back like cheep cheese.  I rode the last lap alone in the rain.  Jan made a good effort in the sprint, and I think Keegan managed to ride the peloton right to the end—dead last he said, but since I rolled in roughly 10 minutes later, that’s not quite true.  It was a good race for me.  It did not end as I would have liked, but pretty much how I expected it to.  Good work to Jan, who stuck to the plan, and did what he could to control the enthusiasm of the peloton as it became motivated to hunt us down.

In case you have never seen a single stroke moped

Racer Profile: Keegan Brooks (updated 2012)

Keegan is back with Fiera Race Team for the 2012 season.  We posted his Racer Profile last year, but thought it was worth updating because a lot happened for Keegan in 2011.
First of all he competed in the Blackfoot Ultra Marathon (50 km), the details of which I don’t know much about, and perhaps that is because they are a bit foggy for Keegan too.  I do know that he came in 8th, in a time of 4:54:27, and when I asked him what his racing goals were for 2012, he said ominously “I have a score to settle with the Blackfoot Ultra”.
But I know that a rematch with the Blackfoot Ultra is not the only priority racing event on Keegan’s calendar for 2012, because he qualified to compete at the Triathlon Worlds in New Zealand this fall, and so will be competing against the best in the world in his age class, while trading his Fiera Race Team colours for Canada’s red and white, come October.
Keegan Brooks, Racer.
  1. What is your hometown?

Born in Edmonton, raised in Kelowna.  Moved to Edmonton in September 2009 for school and very happy that I did.

  1. Describe yourself in 3 words.

Bacon, Waffles, Coffee.

  1. What disciplines do you race in?

Triathlon, running, and cycling.

  1. Why do you race?

Because it’s so much fun!  I love the feeling of my adrenaline (nervousness) rising as I toe start line.  The atmosphere is very special.  People congregate and attempt to push themselves to the limit and get cheered or heckled to get to that limit.

  1. What are your goals for this season?

(1) Ride at least 180 km (during a single ride) before the summer is out. (2) Run another 40:00 minute 10k off the bike.

  1. Name three songs that are getting heavy play on your training playlist right now.

Nowhere With You” by Joel Plaskett,

Barnes’ Yard” by The Rural Alberta Advantage,

“All Night Long” by 3lau

  1. What is your most noteworthy training or racing achievement?

Qualifying for ITU Age-Groups Worlds in Auckland NZ last year in Edmonton.  Also sneaking under the 90 minute mark for a half marathon.

  1. What’s your secret for going fast?

Practice makes perfect.  Ride more. Run more.  To quote a Jeff Symonds “Half-ass practice gets us nowhere while with deliberate practice gets us the results we dream of.”

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