This is a site about me (Andy Vaughn) and my dream of becoming a top–level professional cyclist. You can read my story here. I will do my best to record the process, including the struggles, successes, and failures all honestly on a regular basis.
Please feel free to offer support, guidance, criticism, or even good ol' trash talk. Thank you for visiting.
You cannot plough a field by turning it over in your mind. Author Unknown
Well, at least I’m a Pro- something.
All growing up, I was trained to build-up to large events. Mountain bike races, cross-country runs, band concerts (yes I was a band geek), etc. As an adult, these events came fewer and further between.
I was taught to moderate my time, live a balanced life and spend each day plodding along, even keeled, and well-rounded.
Fail!
If there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s that in order to grow, you have to create imbalance. Imbalance followed by periods of recovery followed by more imbalance: this is the recipe to successful growth in any endeavor.
The funny thing is that I would often create fake events, just to get my blood-pumping and to put me under pressure. This is “procrastination” in action.
While these are meant to be health-related confessions, this is within the domain of (un)healthy behavior. So, I felt it was appropriate.
During my master’s degree program, I had one term where we were assigned to gather empirical data on a particular facet of the class subject and write a large “conclusive” term paper on our findings. We were given an entire term to do our research, write and review the paper, get feedback from the professor if needed, and submit it.
I did some research on the topic, gathered and read the articles, then held off until the last minute. The very last minute to write the paper.
24 hours before the paper was due, I hadn’t put keystroke to document. I spent all day in the library and at my computer desk. By the next day, a 26-page “term” paper was turned in.
When I got it back, there was only one section of corrections – the back, I hadn’t formatted my APA references/citations properly. I received an A-. Procrastination was reinforced. I had won another fake event.
The future depends on what we do in the present. Mahatma Gandhi
Four days of blog posts. Four days without coffee. Four days without sweets.
I almost didn’t make the four days of blog posts one. However, right before bed, I decided that I needed to do it – kind of like showering or brushing my teeth. Wait, did I…? Never mind.
I succeeded in my last goal (no games when I should be sleeping), but tonight, I came close. I played some games while Lily was sleeping on me. But, I made sure to put it away come time for bed.
Goal: Keep up the no-gaming when I should be sleeping.
I once ate a whole pound of cashews. I don’t recommend it.
He that will not reflect is a ruined man. Asian Proverb
Three days without coffee. Tired. But, I’m feeling better and sleeping much more soundly.
After day three, I’ve usually overcome the painful headaches that accompanies withdrawal from caffeine. None so far today. I think I’ve succeeded in this goal.
Next goal*: No playing games (video, poker, rpg, board, or otherwise) when I should be sleeping.
*I’m a sucker for games. When Lily goes to sleep, my inner gamer comes out, and my thoughts are along the lines of “I better get in a good hour of games before bed, since I won’t get the chance to do this during the day.” And, while that may be true, it is a bane on my sleep.
I used to be really into playing these online social roleplaying games, called MUDs. In college, I would sometimes have all-night sessions, where I would come home from classes or work around 5pm, and play straight through until 8 or 9AM the next day when class started. I would barely take a break for dinner.
One quarter, when I was training for the Sea Otter mountain bike cross country race, I programmed a “bot” method of playing that allowed me to train on my indoor cycle trainer while watching the progress of my character on the monitor. My character was using variable methods of combat and interaction that made it seem like I was actually playing and conversing with people. I would put in variable responses like, “Shut up, I’m busy,” or “Hold on, I’m on the phone” whenever people would send me a message. If a monster would walk into the room, I would have variable attacking and healing based on the combat results.
This worked fine for a couple nights until another player walked in on my character and after observing my action for fifteen minutes, realized I was not actually playing. He attacked me and took all my armor, weapons, and gold, since I hadn’t accounted for player-to-player combat. The next night, I had fixed it, and when he walked into the room, I killed him with my pre-programmed robot triggers, looted his corpse, and logged off 
Not wanting to get into an anticipation trigger-based programming war, I stopped “botting” the next night, and haven’t done it since.
It is not enough to take steps which may some day lead to a goal; each step must be itself a goal and a step likewise. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
I succeeded in not drinking coffee yesterday. It wasn’t too difficult, as long as I had ibuprofen on-hand (I get real bad caffeine headaches). Today, the goal repeats itself.
Goal: Don’t drink any coffee today.
In 2004, I was road racing pretty seriously. The collegiate series in the Northwest is pretty competitive, and I was doing well in the Men’s A, Division I group (the toughest).
On the drive home from the omnium in Seattle, I saw a Krispy Kreme donut on the side of the freeway. “I’ve never had one of those,” I exclaimed, ominously, to Stacey. “Well then. We’re just going to have to get you one.” My fate was sealed.
If you know me well, you know that I have a ridiculous sweet tooth. And, a bottomless pit of a stomach, especially when I am in training.
“Kid in a candy store” doesn’t even begin to describe it. More like heroin addict on a poppy farm.
I saw the donuts, glistening under the heat lamps. They were singing to me. “Fa la la, Andy. Come to us, Andy. We are custard filled, jelly filled, sweet as can be, Andy.”
I glided forward, entranced by the hypnotic song of the Krispy Kreme donut line. “I want all of them,” I said to the person at the counter. “Umm. Sir, you can’t have all of them. Which ones would you like?”
“How many can I get?” I replied. A small pool of saliva had accumulated around the base of my sweating hands on the counter.
“Would you like a dozen?” The now-scared teen asked, hoping I didn’t hit maul for being so presumptious.
“Yes. I want that.”
I took my new friends back to the car, offended that they ever had to spend time with that mean kid. I promised to treat them better.
On the drive home, I did treat my friends better. In the four hours between Seattle and Portland, I assimilated all thirteen of them.
The fact is, that to do anything in the world worth doing, we must not stand back shivering and thinking of the cold and danger, but jump in and scramble through as well as we can.
Robert Cushing
I guess this is sort of a re-rededication to this blog and to my health. But, as they say in the 12-step programs, “You can only change today.” Or, something along those lines.
I’ve been awake since 2:35am. I awakened with a stomach ache*, and couldn’t go back to sleep. So, after watching the end of “Be Kind Rewind” and the entire “Rachel Getting Married,” (which I suggest, btw) I am down here rededicating myself to healthy living.
Tonight, Stacey asked me to throw away the leftover cupcakes from Lily’s first birthday party. Stacey, being Chinese and the ever-gracious host, over-prepared with approximately 60 cupcakes. Apparently (even though it was “dessert only,”) she was trying to provide enough wheat, sugar, and lard to adequately fill those up that had not eaten dinner. There were leftovers. I love you, Honey.
Stacey requested that I dispose of these leftover cakes-in-a-cup, as they were becoming a staple additive to our daily meals. Like salt. And in-between. Like cupcakes.
My method of throwing them away: Take the remaining seven frosted cupcakes. Super-frost the tops with the leftover frosting from the party. Cut the tops off, and eat the Super-frosted cupcake tops. I ate all seven. And an almond cookie.
Lily is one year old. I want to be the best dad to her, and also husband to Stacey. I know that I can do better.
Today’s goal: no coffee! (yikes) Wish me luck!
This is awesome. “Urban Downhilling.”
Some day, I would love to do a race that takes me through someone’s kitchen.
Some people are just insane. You won’t ever catch me doing this:
I’m currently training for the High Cascades 100 mountain bike race. I’ve been putting in some longer rides on the weekends. However, it will be difficult to judge how exactly I am supposed to prepare for 9-14 hours of singletrack suffering enjoyment.
One method I have been utilizing, though, is that of adequate rest between long rides. It has been noted that your muscles generally take 36 hours to fully recover from a depleting workout. So, I’ve been giving it about 48 hours between rides to make sure that I am adequately rested, then I go for serious endurance length. We’ll see in three weeks if this method works, or not for me.
I’m also debating whether I should ride my Santa Cruz Superlight or my Ibis Alibi hardtail, during the event. While my Santa Cruz will be more comfortable, it may not offer the performance and lightweight activity that I appreciate from my Ibis. However, riding an unknown course that may be full of rough terrain, I may get sore as a money’s uncle if I spend 12 hours or so on a hardtail. If I make no changes, I will probably be sticking with the Superlight. But, we’ll see how it handles a few more weeks of training before I make the commitment.
Any tips are more than welcome. Let me know if you plan on attending, and I’ll look out for you. Hasta el fuego!
When I was 14, I raced for Specialized. I was riding a hardtail Specialized Stumpjumper M2.
After winning the 1994 UCI Pan-American XC Championships in Squaw Valley as a Junior, I met and chatted with Ned Overend. His birthday was the day before, and he put in a stellar performance to get second to a flying Mark Howe (if I remember correctly) on a super-high elevation course. I remember saying something along the lines of, “It’s a good day for Specialized — you got second, and I got first.” Although embarrassed after realizing what I said, I managed to still get in a good chat about Fort Bragg and the Botanical Gardens.
Anyhow, Specialized mountain bikes are still the pinnacle of my desire. I have such fond memories of flying on the mountain trails around Lake Tahoe, Mammoth, and Big Bear. Perhaps one day I will again wield such beauty between my legs.
No, not Lily. She’s spoiled rotten, as I would have it no other way for my baby girl.
Mtnracer.com has been a neglected blog for too long. During my nine-month tenure at OSU Federal, I failed to publish a single blog post – suckage! This is my fault, and needs to be remedied.
“Because of you, I’m alive. For you, I’m awake…”
I rode and ran today – kickass! I think I always reach a turning point in my training when I do a two-a-day. Once I’ve done one of those, my body says, “Ok, time to get my ass in shape. I better start burning calories and rebuilding musclies.”
I don’t have a particular goal in sight for this year, as most of my training has been lame-duck, chicken-footed, monkey-balled, rhino-horned, donkey-cheeked, horse manure! However, the annual Mt. Ashland hillclimb is coming up in September. Perhaps I will have the legs to smash the mountains up!?
Oh, before I sign-off, I forgot to mention that I broke my middle chainring climbing Boxwood drive the other day? Do you think my superman-musclies actually broke it *again,* or is my shit somehow bent and wobbly? This is the third Campy middle-ring I have replaced in two years, and I can’t be putting that much torque on it (25% grade + my beer gut =…)?
I’m thinking about going full Dura-Ace or a mixture of FSA-front and Dura-back. This Campy stuff is really killing the width of my wallet.
Andy Vaughn with wife Stacey. Read my story.