Blogging not blogging.

I'm blogging only to say I'm not blogging. Say that a few times fast. For the sake of keeping memories straight and all that jazz, this week has been pretty mundane and time is beginning to speed up a bit. It proves my theory that when everything is new, time moves more slowly, but when days begin to repeat themselves, time just gallops away if one allows it to do so.

I spent a couple of hours riding after class Monday, successfully avoiding the rain. Yesterday I was so tired, riding wasn't a wise idea...and when the sky opened up and dumped buckets on unsuspecting pedestrians, I was really, really glad to not be out there.

Today I met up with a bike riding friend I met last summer while riding through this area. The forecast was for rain all day long, but I wasn't going to cancel on a ride if it wasn't actually raining, but it really took a lot of will to dress and step out the door. Turns out the sun came out from its hiding place (huh? how'd that happen???) and the day was perfect for getting good, solid miles on the legs. I returned home the very moment the thunder and rain hit. Very nice.

As far as the Gran Fondo of Gran Fondos this coming weekend (208 km, on the Adriatic Sea, somewhere around 9,000 feet of climbing), I'm as ready as I can be for a race that will be longer and will have more climbing than my longest bike ride ever. And I've done a lot of epic rides in my life. Gulp. There will also be a huge field of women racers, including pros. I've done the math, the winning time from last year involves incredible speeds and around 6 1/4 hrs in the saddle. I can only hope/dream to finish around the 7 1/4-hour mark. 

After class (that was a bit shorter than usual), my classmates and I got together for reading Italian practice. That was a fun activity, we're going to try to do that a bit more often. I've been reading out-loud to myself, to enable better pronunciation. I'm getting more self-conscious, so am actually having a slightly more difficult time practicing on others. I don't know how fast I'm supposed to be learning this language, nor do they. I know how I sound. I can translate my very elementary Italian to English...it aint pretty.

So much for not blogging! I do (unfortunately) need to curtail the blogging somewhat so I'm going to apologize now for days when nothing gets posted. Know that I'm thinking about you and will try to get the interesting news up here. Otherwise, when I have a chance, I've been posting a bit more (really short things) on Facebook...it just saves soooo much time. (In case you've never blogged, and I'm one of those English-language perfectionists so a bit slower, each complete post with pictures can take upwards of 2 hours.) Basta (enough).

Happy weekend to all and I'll see you here Monday with a full report from the weekend. Ciao, ci vediamo!

Adventure to Medieval Times (Gubbio Festa) and an Italian Conversation

Do you like to travel? How about time travel? Not possible, you say. Ooooooh, I beg to differ! Last summer on the Ciclismo Classico tour, we rode into and stayed in Gubbio. The night before we rode in, our guides told us all about this crazy medieval festival that they have there every year called the Festa dei Ceri (translation: festival of candles).

I've been excited to go to the festival since we heard about it then. Yesterday the festival was held and the University organized a bus to take students who wanted to attend. Ciclismo was also there for the fun. I went with a great group of friends from classes and met up with the Ciclismo folks there. It was a great mix of being touristy, watching the action with friends, catching up with Marcello and meeting the cool guests of the Ciclismo tour.

It was yet another rainy day, but it turned out to be great weather for the festival. The fog hanging on the Gubbian hills added to the aura of mysticism that surrounds a medieval festa. Here's the full Wiki article if you want to know more: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Ubaldo_Day

Here's a pic of Gubbio in the background and an ancient Roman theater in the foreground. Note the fog behind the hill.

Walking into town, there were many banners all over the place. I think these signify the family or saint to whom those residents are associated.

I parted with my friends for a bit to say hi to Marcello and the Ciclismo guests he was hanging out with. It was fabulous that they were watching the end of the Giro d'Italia in the lobby of the hotel, a super epic day out there for the racers with roads of mud and pouring rain.

My friends, in the meantime, had gone to the top of the Gubbian hill via gondola. This is something I missed out on last summer so was quite glad to go up there to meet up with them.

Looking down on Gubbio's town center...

This is a partial group shot...two of our guys are missing from it...

At the top of the hill is the church of St. Ubaldo (the patron saint of Gubbio). If you have a weak stomach, don't look too close. This is St. Ubaldo, if I understand correctly. He lay there at the front of the church.

We thought it wise to get back down the hill to where the race of the ceri (monstrous candles) would be happening. I thought the town seemed pretty quiet when we got there, figured people stayed in because of the rain so I was a little disappointed because I thought the crowds wouldn't come out. Wrong-o! People came out of who-knows-where by the droves for the race of the 1,000 lb. candles.

At the top of each candle is a saint, three candles/3 saints in all. It's a really big deal to help carry the candles. You should have seen the guys in blue standing near us who were going to help carry the candle when it got to them...they were stretching, jumping up and down, super-super serious about their upcoming job. Here's a picture of them...

The candles race through the streets and and then raced to the top of the very steep Gubbian hill. The "winner" is always the same as there is no way for the candles to change positions in the very narrow streets.

We were hanging out waiting anxiously for the candles to come through.

The people awaiting the candles...

And here they come and go!

My video didn't upload just now so I'm including a YouTube video from someone else from last year. This is exactly the way it looks, just imagine no sunny sky.



It was a HUGE crowd, a total crush including children and older people as well. I didn't mind the crowd at all (this comes from someone who really minds being in a crush of people at sporting events, etc. in the U.S.)

I crowd surfed to the main piazza in hopes of finding Marcello; I didn't even have to look, I practically ran into him and his Ciclismo guests.

Very cool to see this beautiful horse and trumpeter make their way through the crowd, too!

After the candles made their way past this point, we wandered over to a pizza place where I joined the Ciclismo group for a fun dinner. It's really great to be included in the Ciclismo events when they come through town. These visits definitely take me back to last summer and I get a little sentimental wishing my friends from that trip were there, too.

Today

Today ended up a whole lot better than it started. The bus got us back late last night and I was all wired from the festival to get to sleep. My alarm threw me out of bed at 4 am. Today I was supposed to ride to the hilltop finish of today's stage of the Giro d'Italia. It's kind of funny because I didn't realize the reason I was supposed to go on a 200km bike ride with my friends was for this reason until after it didn't happen thanks to the rain that just won't quit. Luckily, I was able to go back to bed for an extra couple of hours.

Fortunately, there was a break in the rain and it allowed for a pretty intense, climbing training ride that was in the vicinity of Lake Trasimeno...absolutely gorgeous roads out there (most new to me). There's a fabulous 200 km (124 mile) Gran Fondo coming up this weekend. I don't know if I've ever ridden this far in my life...now I get to race that distance with 4,000 competitors doing the same distance. I'm super excited about it, though.

After the ride, my friend's mom served up some awesome pasta, chicken (the most moist chicken I think I've ever had & most flavorful as it was spiced really well), salad, wine. I was absolutely stuffed. I am a slow eater, it's just my style to not eat fast. I had to explain my slow eating habits to prevent her from being offended. Gotta love the culture surrounding food here. I really, really like it. To me, it's all about eating around the same table with others. That the food happens to be awesome makes it all that much better. Mom, for the record, I have told many Italians about your lasagna and that your is the best in the whole world. Come to think about it, I haven't tried Italian lasagna yet...the thought of it actually doesn't excite me all that much to be honest.

After the meal, I needed to catch the bus home thanks to the rain that had returned by this point. The bus stop is next to a bar where I stepped inside to stay out of the rain. A wonderful older guy started talking to me and before I knew it, I had been shooting the breeze with him (in Italian) for a solid 40 minutes. He insisted on buying me an espresso, I think it was so that I'd stay and talk. At the end of the conversation, I felt that something had changed--this morning I was tired and, therefore, tripping all over words; by this evening, they flowed out. He complimented my Italian (that's a first, by the way, and he's happily married so it's not like he was trying to woo me or anything). I see this as a milestone. The first of many more to come. Seriously, that conversation was so much fun. This is the definition of the Italian experience.

Now, it's finally time for me to head home and attempt to sleep (still on a high from today's ride). Internet is YET AGAIN broken at home. Thanks for traveling with me back to medieval Gubbio and to the coffee shop. Your emails continue to thrill me to receive, and I am so touched at your interest in these experiences. My hugs and kisses to you all (yes, I'm going to be kissing everyone on both cheeks when I get back home, what a great custom). I miss each of you very much and wish you were here (can't wish myself home just yet...)! :) Ciao!!!

A Day in the Life...

Let's begin with a riddle: what do the internet and the kitchen sink have in common? Answer: They were both broken. They're both things I need. Fortunately, I believe both are back now, but it was pretty inconvenient the past few days. Other than this, I really like living here. It's great having a common space and 3 Italian-speaking roommates who are home a lot. We don't talk to each other all that often, but just hearing the conversations is excellent. Like I mentioned before, I really like having life around me.

Yesterday there was rain...it stopped and cleared for long enough to convince me to go out for a ride...then it started and wouldn't stop so the ride got scrapped. This allowed for some time to watch the end of yesterday's stage of the Giro d'Italia (in Venice, I think).

There was also time for a side trip to one of the places where one of my Italian friends works. It's a small family farm operation 25 minutes by car from here. The family lives in a gorgeous, very old and big farmhouse and they raise animals for their meat. I didn't see any of the live animals, but I did get to see where they hang up the carcasses and remove meat from them. It was a very clean, white place. They needed to harvest a couple of pieces of meat...so I watched. Dark red blood spotted the perfectly clean, white floor of the large refrigerator. This is the closest to this sort of thing I've ever been. I explained that in America, I'm a vegetarian because it's hard to get meat that is treated this well there. They should see the movie "Food, Inc." What a world of difference. Here, take no issue consuming meat.

I met the family, a few generations live there (including a super cute little girl who I talked to, she didn't know that I can't speak her language) and were all very nice. There was a solid 1/2 hour of Italian flying back and forth about the meat, the price of it, etc. I'm now catching most of the words, but still piecing together the concepts is tricky. I felt like it was years ago when I would accompany my dad on some business and he'd be talking about some stuff that I didn't understand, but I was happy to be there anyway.

A Lesson In Italian

Forgive me if this is a repeat story. One of the things the guys say on the road when we're riding bikes is "occhio" which is a direct translation to "eyes" and also "look out!" Of course in this context, they mean watch out for a car or pothole or something. The first time I heard this, I was so amused. How funny it would sound if we shouted "eyes" when riding our bikes and watching out for something. It's stuff like this that makes learning a new language so much fun.

I've been running a lot of expressions past my Italian friends. Seems there are a lot of direct translations. "Casa dolce casa" means "home sweet home" and it sounds like they use the expression. There are others that go directly, as well. Superstitions are also quite similar, but I understand that Italians tend towards being a bit more superstitious than Americans. One story is that a black cat crossed a guy's path so he stopped and waited a 1/2 hr until another crossed his path. This particular guy was on his bike, apparently the car behind him had done the same thing.

Day before yesterday I visited my favorite bike shop and my favorite bike mechanic. He has the best English of anyone I know here who's Italian. It was nice to be able to rap about bikes freely in English for a little while. He's from elsewhere in Europe and has worked in bike shops in Spain and England so he could give me perspective on racing and the scene in Italy. He said it's super serious here, the racers are very particular about everything where it comes to their bikes, eating, etc. Interesting for me to hear, because what I've seen here so far is a scene that is much more relaxed than what I see in the U.S. at amateur criterium races. And it's far more relaxed than U.S. pro racing. Then again, I'm not starting the Gran Fondos at the front.

School Update

At this point in school, we've learned passato prosimo (he has done something, I had given that to someone), imperfetto (When I was a child, I was eating when), futuro (I will do that someday, they will see the movie), trapassato prossimo (they had felt, I had been), future anteriore (will have been, they will have done it), reflexivo (mi lavo = I wash myself) and other small yet very important (and tricky) concepts. Verbs are coming, understanding is really getting better but conjugating a verb and using it properly in conversation is hard for my mind and then spitting it out adds a whole new level of complexity. 

I am really enjoying classes, still. The teachers are talking much faster than they were at first, and I'm understanding about 90% of what they have to say. Not having tests or much homework is fantastic and is as it should be. I'm pushing myself for the reasons why I want to be here. It keeps my relationship with classes and this language positive, though I have quite often been frustrated with myself in remembering everything I want to and expressing myself the way I want to. It's good, though, I'm trusting this frustration will keep my head in the game and continue to push me to improve.

With that, it's time to post this, study for awhile and ride a little later assuming the weather is okay. I'm afraid to look. Tomorrow is the crazy Gubbian Festival I've been looking forward to seeing since I heard about it last summer on tour!

It's the small things

According to one of my teachers, the number one reason why students come to study at the University (that only offers courses for learning Italian) is not to learn Italian. I think he said the primary reason is that people have time in their lives in between work and school and this is a good "filler" activity. There was another reason, as well, I forget what that one was.

I can't imagine becoming good at this language if that's not a primary reason for being here. It's really easy to get by in class, know the grammar, etc, but have no idea how to put the words together in complete sentences. I'm very fortunate to have very patient Italian-speaking friends. Considering I'm a former English-language perfectionist, I can really appreciate their willingness to hang out with someone who still does very uncool things with a beautiful language.

It just occurred to me that it's been two months since I've heard a bad word. I find this very refreshing. Of course, I've heard lots of bad words, I'm sure, but I don't know it! Ignorance is bliss. Seriously.

Last night one of my roommates and I enjoyed a dinner almost completely served up from Sunday's Gran Fondo. She offered her mother's tuna & tomato sauce for the pasta. Yummm and a good conversation with my roommate. I understood most of what she had to say.

The big conversation around here lately has been about the internet. It's broken in 3 different ways right now. This is not the country for technology (can't say I am that distraught), there have been internet issues all over since I've been here. I'm "borrowing" internet for the moment, the only reason why I can do anything at all online.

Tonight's dinner was a treat--food typical of Perugia in a very traditional trattoria. They serve everyone the same courses during the same night. So it's all done to perfection since the chef isn't juggling 16 different things at once. The picture above is my hand with a sticker from the restaurant. The meal was with one of my dear bike-riding friends who I couldn't understand at all 2 1/2 weeks ago. It was quite an enjoyable time with only a few moments of me being puzzled.

Yes, I'm still wearing the fake ring. I've found that I like it for more reasons than being able to use the "I'm married" excuse in case someone is trying to make unwanted advances. I appreciate it when someone asks about it...says a lot when someone shows concern over it. Maybe I need to take it off--my dating life hasn't been this non-existent in a very, very long time. Pretty hilarious because this is polar-opposite from most of the stranieri (foreigners) in this town. And this is Italy! We spent 45 minutes in class today discussing love and the meaning of what true love is. I can live without this discussion. I'd prefer to keep my head in the sand on the topic. It reminds me that even though this is pretty much the perfect life right now (with the exception of my family and friends being too far away), there's something big missing.

Back to training tomorrow if the weather holds up (tons of rain most of the day today). It's great to be back into a full training routine. Finally, I think my racing burnout period is officially over and there's a real chance that this former criterium-lover has turned into a road racer who enjoys climbing in races.

Don't expect another blog update until this weekend...the rest of this week should be fairly humdrum. (Something I'm sort of hoping for!) Ci vediamo!

Gran Fondo #2 - Montefalco

I've embedded the song "It's a Wonderful Life" by Zucchero (an Italian band who I was introduced to during language lab a week ago). This song was playing on the radio as we drove home from the race today and the deep green countryside around Montefalco was shimmering from the warm sun beaming down. It sure is.

It's hard to know where to start and what to say. It's been exactly 2 months since I stepped foot on European soil with absolutely no idea what my life would be like for the upcoming 6. I'd be lying to say that, back then, I wasn't having any doubt.

Not one little itty bitty part of me wishes that I hadn't come here or taken this leap of faith. My life has changed so significantly in the past two months, it's absolutely impossible to put into words. This is a major life-changer. Let me be a little more specific: the last month has been the life-changer. Traveling around, doing the tourist thing is fantastic for the worldly knowledge gained, picking up all of the cool experiences that entails, but it doesn't necessarily change everything.

Living in a place does. Or maybe it's this place, these people that have been the change. At least I have another four months to understand everything better. Oh, to be able to actually communicate what's on my mind with my friends and understand everything they say to each other and to me...but everything is still great. It's the smiles, the hugs and kisses (kisses here are readily shared in the non-romantic sense, one per cheek), the words we do share. It's enough right now, though my comprehension is significantly better by the hour and I'm using (little-by-little) better vocabulary.

Gran Fondo - La Sagrantino 2010

First, here's a great picture of the team (squadra), though I'm sorry Roberta, Fabio and Fabio weren't in this one since they were out there today. (The team is really big so it'll be hard to ever get a full team picture.)

Now to the details of the race. Mom, this one was for you! I have to first share a sweet thing my mom said to me before the race today in her good-luck email. She told me that racing will hurt less as I race more. Unfortunately, Mom, there's a quote from a great bike racer (I forget who): "It never gets easier, you just go faster."

True. I can't wait to download the statistics from today's race. It was much more punishing than the last race in a few different ways. The race began in Montefalco--a quiet, beautiful little town that overlooks Bevagna. I've raced up to Montefalco before...last summer after getting the marriage certificate of my great grandparents, I had to try to catch the Ciclismo Classico group in Montefalco. It's quite a hill and fantastically gorgeous up there.

The race began at the top of the very big hill. I was freaked out about descending on these twisty, narrow roads with 110 of my closest bike racing buddies. Now knowing what Gran Fondo racing is all about (that this is a very real race with guys who are very in it to race), I went in nervous. I also have a team to not let down. They (D. in particular) have invested a lot in me, I didn't want the last race to be a beginner's luck sort of thing.

Turns out the start was all a neutral roll-out down the entire hill (this means that there's a car rolling slowly at the front of all of the racers so no one can try to hit mock 1 down the hill). That didn't make it much less scary for me, though, just because a lot of guys have carbon wheels and when one applies one's breaks (who has these kinds of wheels), there's that squeak that you almost always hear before a crash. I have a hard time stomaching the sound. I didn't see a crash all day, though, these guys continue to amaze me with their bike handling skills.

Finally the race began right around Bevagna. We flew past two homes of my great grandparents. I saluted my ancestors. Thanks, guys, you brought me back to this land that you held so dear so I could also place it in my heart.

My legs weren't ready to race this week like they were last week. I think it helps a lot when I get a few good intervals in (sprints, even) before a race. Today I started cold. My bike went on a diet this week, though, so that helped significantly on the climbs. Once my legs got going, they went. I got with a fast group (though I was upset about losing many places due to my fear on the neutral roll-out down the hill). We flew along and everything was all good...until we hit a fast, technical downhill portion. I stuck with them for quite a ways, but slipped off the back when I got a little nervous about the break-neck speeds. (See a theme today?) I chased hard to catch up on the flat section. There was one guy who had been stripped off and I worked with him to make it back...but his course took him another direction so there I was, suddenly alone. I got in the time-trial groove and went as hard as I could for a little while because I was really concerned that I was the last racer out there. If I waited for the next group to catch up (who may not even exist since I don't see anyone behind me), I could be out here all day long.

I had heard there were 8 women in my race today (including the world champ) and I was sure they were all in front of me. I was so disappointed in myself. I was trying to figure out how I was going to say sorry to the team afterward. This haunted me the entire race.

Fortunately, the road tipped up and I could see back further (there were a total of 9 climbs today--3 times the number of last week). There were some guys coming along so I soft pedaled until they reached me. This turned out to be a good group. They were a bit faster than the group I ended up with last week, I was glad about that. I got to the front and started to work with one of the guys up there. I looked back and the pack was gone. Woohoo, a break! It didn't end up lasting, but it was effective in picking up the pace of the group. Remember, I was sure I had people up the road that I needed to chase down...or at least not come in an hour after!


The first 100km were hard racing miles. I also got a lot more comfortable on the fast descents and hung fine with the guys. At 100km, the pack really, really slowed down. It didn't make sense to me to go to the front and pick up the pace since I figured they knew something I didn't. Yup. The new, cool town I got to know today was Trevi. It's at the top of a very long, intense climb. That's why the guys were taking it easy...they wanted legs for this climb.

After the ascent and descent to/from Trevi, the pack was going slooooowly. I was bummed. We had at least been making good time up to this point. If I'm going to lose, I want it to be by as few minutes as possible. Almost no one had any motivation and the last 8 km were supposed to be a pretty long climb into Montefalco...that I didn't know if I'd have steam for. This pace continued until 2km to go.

The long, steep climb I was expecting really didn't end up happening until the 2k mark (sorry, my memory is foggy on exact distances). I was keeping a close eye on my GPS watch and they had signs starting at 10km to go (the whole race was only 130 km opposed to the 148 km I was expecting). Last week the pack ended up finishing in a sprint. I didn't want it to come down to a sprint because I'll always be beaten by men in a sprint. At a little over 1 km to go, after riding 2nd wheel and having no idea what was going on behind me (2nd wheel is a bad place to be, by the way, for this very reason), I took off and didn't look back. My legs felt very good at that point considering all of the rest they'd gotten for the past ~25 km. The pack let me go. (Or were they unable to follow? I'll never know.) So at least I got to finish the race racing. And I put 2 minutes on the others who did end up in a sprint finish.

A few of the guys who I had raced with were super sweet after the race and shook my hand, very complimentary. Very similar to my experience last week. These are good guys. For the record, I really like Italian men. I think it's great that they prove that chivalry isn't dead. In the romantic sense, all of the rules might totally change, but as people, I like them a lot. They go out of their way to be sweet, when there is absolutely nothing for them to gain. I'm not saying this doesn't exist elsewhere, I'm just saying it's everywhere here, a daily occurrence. It's also helpful that I'm not a drop-dead gorgeous blonde or foreign-looking. I feel they're sweet to me as one of them, not as a hey-babe sort of thing.

Back to the race and I'll quit babbling and go study. Turns out that out of 110 participants (I thought there were going to be many times that in the race, but the hoards signed up for the Medio Fondo, a slightly shorter race than the Gran Fondo), I came in 70th. I was hoping for top half. However, for women, it was 2nd place to the World Champ (Michela Gorini). Niiiiice. In a race with so few women (not sure how many, but possibly only 3), it's not like this makes me anything special (although it's pretty sweet considering no one else knows how few women are out there and my name will be next to hers in the newspaper tomorrow, like last week when I got 3rd), but I know that I'm racing well and my legs are feeling strong...and I'm racing with my heart. I love this racing. It's phenomenal.

Maybe it's not the racing, maybe it's the community and fun that surrounds the race... Again, the pasta party afterward was so much fun!

In line for pasta...

The meal--wonderful marinated salad (forget what it's called), pasta, a roll and pork (I am so done being a vegetarian. I can't live without pork after racing). Also, all-you-can-drink Montefalco Sagrantino wine...that's gooood wine.

 Cool place for the pasta party and awards!

My teammate podium'd again today after having a great race...she's on the right in this pic. She cleans up really well. I was disgusting after the race and there wasn't a real bathroom to visit, either.

After countless jokes about podium boys (instead of podium girls for women racers), there was the equivalent today. (I think this guy was official with the race, but whatever the case, this is as close as I've ever gotten.)

Podium. The prizes: another monster (even larger) salami, really good Montefalco bottle of wine, pasta and a medal. I'm most excited about the medal. I really cherish those as they are small but a great way to remember the day.

Today goes down in the list of memories because of the awesome time with my teammates and fellow racers. Everyone had a great race today and D was beaming from his, too (it surprised him, I think, his best races are the ones with super steep, sustained climbs). He treated to gelato after the race, too. He's getting good at reading my mind--gelato is the best way to finish the day after a race. Another chapter for my future book, ha.

Next weekend we're off from racing. I'll be visiting the Ciclismo Classico group (Marcello is one of the guides) in Gubbio for their insanity fest (it has a name, will definitely be blogged) and who knows what else.

A couple other shots to complete the day:

The finish was at the top of a long, fairly steep hill, cobblestone street. There was a huge blow-up finish line, but that was down when I got to my camera. That reminds me, racing through the little towns is just as cool as racing in the Giro d'Italia...there are people on the stone walls cheering, weaving through the narrow cobbled streets and flying out again...it is so freaking cool!!!

This is looking down from the finish line to where we came into Montefalco just before finishing the race. 

How fun to finish up here (the piazza in Montefalco)...last time I was here, it was with Ciclismo stopping for a snack before continuing along to Todi.

And with that, time just slipped away. After racing, the only thing I am capable of doing is thinking about racing. Yes, I got to church, but I couldn't understand much. Active listening wasn't possible after everything today, but I did have a good chat with God. Thank you for all of our mothers, thank you for this wonderful life.

Domani (Tomorrow)

Tomorrow's course: check it out, we're heading through Bevagna! http://www.granfondosagrantino.com/images/docs/planimetria_2008.pdf

Internet broken again today, can't believe it's working right now. HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY to my DEAR MOM, GRANDMOTHER and GRANDMA!!!!!!!!!!!! You're all awesome and the family wouldn't be the same without you (for obvious reasons and not quite as obvious reasons). THANKS TO YOU AND ALL OF THE MOTHERS OUT THERE!!!!!!!!!!!!

Che Pizza - no way!

A new fun expression I just learned is "Che Pizza." It means something to the effect of "how boring." This is funny considering how highly reveared pizza is in Italy. Might I add that Italians have every right to be proud of their food, pizza included. It's awesome. The only thing, though, is that the American food I've seen here is bad. Waaay worse than it would be in America. So if they compare their food against what they see of American food, it's not a fair compairison.

Last night was a team pizza dinner and it was wild, quite the opposite of the title of this post. The team is fantastic. They have totally welcomed me with open arms and are so warm and friendly with each other. Now mind you the table was full of guy Italian bike riders/racers, with the exception of my one female teammate and I (she and I being more reserved than the rest at the table).

I didn't get a great picture, but here's one where many of the people in attendance were discussing team stuff (no idea what exactly). There are probably 4 others in attendance not in the shot.

The Italian conversations were flying from one end of the table to the other all night long. I tried to stay out of the way and catch what I could, but no one was slowing down for a second. I loved every moment. I am so happy in this sort of environment. I often catch myself grinning ear-to-ear from my inner emotion bursting out. Watching the language being spoken, being expressed, with full body language included, is a joyous thing to me. I do wish I knew more about what was said, but maybe it's best right now that I don't. I know when people are talking about me, I just don't know what they're saying.

They brought out the schedule of Gran Fondos for the summer. They marked an X next to each that I'll be doing...good thing I like racing so much, it's easier to not disagree. We're on the same page in this book. One race that I'm particularly excited about is one that involves two days on the Adriatic Coast. I've always, always adored traveling to races. So to do that here will be awesome. All of the races will involve new places and terrain, that one is just a bit further to get to.

A note on the pizza. The pizza was super thin crust and brought out on a large plate. Eveyone got their own pizza that stretched over the side of the plate. I got a little more than 1/2 of it ingested before I couldn't eat more. Darn it was good, I wanted to have more.

They raised their glasses of wine and beer and saluted America, I returned the gesture to Italy. Note that Italians typically drink beer with pizza and this is the only time they do so (of course with a group of bike racers, the rules are probably a bit different). These guys also eat bigger breakfasts so they're not the typical Italian.

I'm loving it that so many of you are reading and enjoying this blog. It's a huge time commitment and to have the emails and comments on the blog and Facebook really mean a lot to me. I have very little time to write back, but I do try. Know that I think about all of you a lot. You're very much here with me. Typically, when I have spare time, I need to be spending it studying, especically on the weekends. During the week after class is over, I'm simply too exhausted from class to study more. Time on the bike is really great time to step away from the computer, the books, all of it.

I'll close with news about the weather. Today I didn't get rained on while riding...that's one for 5 (and it did rain a bit today, too). Not a great average this past week, but at least the rain is warm and it doesn't bug me that much so long as I simply get out...I won't leave the house for a ride if it's already raining.

On my way out yesterday, I checked in to see if D was looking to ride. He was. It was a great evening to be out there until we got on this perfect traffic-free road for about 10 seconds and it started raining. We flipped it around and he knows of this box-like large thing that is easy to sit under and stay dry. It was a long wait until the rain slowed down enough to continue.

In the Italian, I asked, "So you come here often?" I thought it was funny (since this is an American pickup line in bars). There's probably a direct Italian translation. Fun to say things that I might not otherwise be able to get away with. I know there's some of that going on the other end, too. Sometimes I use the puzzled look card when it's easier than responding when I don't have the right words to reply.

One of my new problems is my worry about being presumptious. Was that a compliment just now or a comment about someone else? Maybe it wasn't a compliment at all. Do I say thanks or just smile and hope the topic changes? I'm catching a lot of words, but the concepts are still fuzzy. Sometimes I listen too hard. Catch the jist and roll with the rest. Yesterday, I could tell a big difference in my comfort in speaking. But this is interspersed with I-feel-stupid days. Much of it has to do with being rested and mentally on. Mornings are always better than evenings with the language. Being fresh is super important.

Speaking of which, I'm blogging outside (chilly out) since internet at home isn't working. Time to get back and get some solid sleep. Tomorrow will be a very short pre-race ride and I don't know what else. Sunday's race starts from Montrefalco, a very small town next to Bevagna (where amazing wine comes from). There will be 9 serious climbs and 500-700 guys in my race (unsure of exact numbers or number of women). I think 148km, too. It hurts to think about it, but I can't wait.

Love is Like Oxygen

Love is like oxygen
You get too much you get too high
Not enough and you're gonna die
Love gets you high
--Sweet

The big news of yesterday was that my bike was home again after being away since the night of the Gran Fondo. A big change I've had in myself since I've been here is that I've really been able to let go. I'm really okay living with a very small closet of clothes (had to get the black leather-looking jacket to feel okay on the streets here) and I'm finally okay with not having my black leather boots. I was even able to be totally okay with my bike being out of my possession for a few days. This is an incredibly simple life. I like simple. I'd like to know if it's this simple for everyone, or is this an effect of just moving here, living as a college student. We'll see in a few more months.

It's hard to believe it's almost 2 months since I left the U.S. In fact, I saw the date today, Cinco de Mayo. It sounds weird to me in Spanish. "See-n-ko-de-Mai-O" (as it's pronounced in Spanish). "Chee-quay-di-Maj-O" as it's pronounced in Italian (not that it's anything other than the fifth day in May here). Spanish is officially not messing me up any more. I've converted completely to Italian. In fact, when I write in English, I accidentally write some Italian and misspell English words. Many of my thoughts are starting to come in Italian. I thought a lot in Italian in the last Gran Fondo. Clearly, I have simple thoughts as my vocabulary is so limited still. :) But it's a natural reaction as I'm talking and writing in English to think about the translation to Italian. And I find it upsetting when someone speaks English with me on the street (fortunately, that doesn't happen often).

Did I mention my new nickname? I was 15 minutes late to grammar class last week and when I came in, the professor rolled his eyes and asked if I had been on the bike. "Si." He said my name was henceforth "Bici" (pronounced bee-chee, it means bike). So when he calls on me in class, he says "Bici" instead of my name (which I don't think he ever knew to begin with).

Today during break, he asked me more about riding. I had the impression he had little tolerance for it and considering today I got back from riding 9 minutes before class started and I went to class (on-time) after a 2-second sink-bath (after getting rained on a bit in the last 1/2 hr of the ride), I was sure he was going to pick on me. But no, I told him about the Gran Fondo, my team, the roads here and he was sincerely interested. I even explained the thin air in Colorado and the oxygen-rich air here (difficult to do and I don't think I've explained it well enough to my cycling friends here). He then mentioned the song, "Love is Like Oxygen." I've never heard it before, but I looked it up tonight. Cute. The title, in particular, is true. There is a lot of both in Italy.

After the break, the topic for everyone to discuss was each person's passion. The reason for this was that the passion I have for cycling was clearly communicated in the conversation I had with him. Yes, I am very passionate about cycling because of the amazing experiences and people it has afforded me. It's bought me a lot of time, too, since I think it's a big factor in staying healthy and looking young. And since I have a solid community of great friends, I'm a wee-bit less driven to fall into the wrong relationship for the purposes of driving away loneliness or the need for love. These are good things, but when it happens for me, it'll be for the right reasons and will be real deal.

I'm a believer that when you've been through experiences that involve an adrenaline rush with others, there's a strong bond formed there that takes significantly longer to form by other means. (Pretty sure there's a study that backs this up as well.) It's a kind of love that definitely substitutes nicely for the romantic love that is significantly harder to obtain.

In other news, I had a great ride with my teammate, Roberta, this morning. We met up 1/2 way and got some good miles in. Spello was the final destination before returning. The road was the same one I was on last summer on the Ciclismo trip. Really cool to see how the roads are related to each other and how everything is connected. The area is only now really beginning to make sense to me.

These are truly the most confusing roads, though. Especially in Perugia. Remember the movie "Blair Witch Project"? Often when I'm riding down the huge hill to go on rides, I somehow get turned around and end up on the wrong road and end up taking 20 minutes making circles around the hill before I can find the right road to drop down on. I think of Blair Witch...just can't seem to get out and it's typical that I'm trying to meet up with someone and it's just stressful. The massive confusion has a lot to do with the one-way roads and the move I just made--I'm only a 10 minute walk from where I was living before, but it's like being on the opposite side of town.

 Tomorrow will be a long day and not one for blogging. Pizza team dinner! Yea!

The Monster Salami

Remember the very large meat that I mentioned yesterday? It came in handy today. One of my friends on Facebook posted something a few weeks ago to the effect of "Do something every day that scares you." Life here has included daily activities that are a flying leap out of my comfort zone. Here's one such instance.

Yesterday's wild leap was something most people take for granted... I haven't been home much since I moved in with Italians so I've only exchanged "ciao's" with my roommates. With so little time and so few words, I was pretty concerned they would have no tolerance for the odd American impinging upon their space. This apartment has a better common area than my last one and is small...it allows for a lot of face-time with roommates if I don't keep my bedroom door shut.

For someone who has lived alone for so long, I'm pretty pleased to say that I am thrilled to be living with others. I like it that there is noise coming from the other room. It's cool to hear conversations that I'm not necessarily involved in. I like to be around life. I don't care to live alone ever again. Two months of various hostels and apartments has all felt good. In some ways, I feel that I really am back in college, re-doing my younger years, but with the confidence of someone who has already survived that stage in life.

Back to the leap out of my comfort zone: the roommate who I've really had almost no communication with was home yesterday. I took a deep breath and asked, "Come stai?" (How are you?) Why so scary? Well, it means I need to try to understand the answer, which will be more than one word. I will see if she just rolls her eyes and walks away. I give her a lot of credit. She answered my question and we had a conversation. She spoke clearly so I could understand.

Tonight after class, my head hurt from thinking too hard. 6 hours of class in a day is a lot of Italian (not that there can be too much). In between class, I went home and watched Grey's Anatomy and the news in Italian. Active listening is truly a workout. It's easy to fudge real listening in one's native language. With another language, pretending isn't an option. My body was also super tired. The Gran Fondo really caught up with me today. I was hungry all day and the bruise from yesterday's crash was a little sore, too. Walking up stairs was hard with the tired muscles. A nice two hour nap tonight was essential.

After napping, it was time for dinner and time to dig into the salami. My roommates were home so I asked them how the salami should be consumed. They were so sweet, they cut off some pieces, brought out their bread and cheese, I offered up some sangiovese vino and we enjoyed the food together. They talked, I couldn't understand much. But it was fine with them that I was there. I really don't mind being in this sort of situation. I'm quite comfortable being the stranieri (foreigner). They had pizzas in the oven, they insisted I have two yummy slices. (I think they felt sorry for me, I was eating black beans that I made earlier today. I described them as "brutto" (ugly) which they were, but they're also fine with me.

Good thing there isn't a blender here, I'd be making green smoothies and really freaking people out. I don't miss the smoothies much or much other food from the U.S. Part of this is that it's a survival mechanism to not focus on the things that can't be obtained. It would only be super frustrating. Besides, the fresh kiwi fruits sitting next to me have asked to be savored and they substitute quite nicely for other things I used to enjoy.

Right now I await my laundry to finish. A 4-hour cycle is the "regular" mode. :)

One of the very nice guys at the race last weekend just shot me a picture that's pretty cool because it's so in the moment and candid. I had *no* idea there was a camera around. This was taken just moments after finishing Saturday's race:

Italian Bike Racing -- My Dream Come True ... The Very, Very Long Story

Careful what you wish for. 2 1/2 - 4 years ago I trained like a maniac and had an end goal of being able to race (professionally) in Europe. Obviously, that never happened...very few American women get to Europe to race and they typically have to train for years or be that natural wonder...neither describes me in the least bit. I set this dream aside and haven't concerned myself with it for the past couple of years.

However, today I learned that Gran Fondo racing is the equivalent of the European racing I used to dream about. The difference between it and pro racing is simply that the prize list includes salami and wine instead of cash. This realization didn't occur to me until about 15 minutes after the race started today. I had heard that Gran Fondos are like big group rides with the guys in front actually racing it. Not sure exactly what I was thinking about going into the race today, but it had to do more with fear of the distance with the rollers and not the idea of it being an actual race.

As an aside, when I realized today was the culmination of the past 4-5 years of training, dreaming, others supporting me in my effort to get to Italy, the bike race became so much more. I thought about you all so much. I raced for the Italians here who believe in me after knowing me for such a short while, I raced for my family and friends who have helped me get here and are always there for me and I felt the hand of God on my shoulder...as it has been a lot lately. There's no way I'd be here if it weren't.

First, let me explain everything. (Sorry, this is a long story. Grab some coffee and settle in.) Daniele, the guy I met on the road probably close to 3 weeks ago now, told me about this Gran Fondo and I expressed interest in doing it. His cousin is the president of the bike team he races for so Daniele asked me to visit the sports doc and contact his cousin via Facebook to get everything squared away with getting a race license. Now mind you that a lot (I mean a lot) got lost in translation at first. One week ago, I didn't understand anything Daniele said. Now I understand him pretty well (note conversations are simple and there are a lot of details that I miss). Crazy how fast that happened. I didn't quite understand that his cousin was the president of the team, I thought he was organizing this Gran Fondo.

I've wanted to join a team, but didn't have the first clue as to how to go about getting on one and I didn't want to be too forward to ask about getting on a team, especially considering the language differences. This week, Daniele and his cousin, il Presidente, did a ton of work to get me set with clothes, race license and get me a spot in the race today. I am still in disbelief that I have ended up on such a cool squadra (team) in such a short period of time. I met the team today, they are really cool and fun. No English is spoken, either. I looked across the numerous racers everywhere and these guys really seem like the ones with the biggest smiles and warmest gestures (when I say guys, I'm including our other woman racer, too, she's awesome and I'm still shocked to have a female teammate considering she's the first woman cyclist I've met who lives here). One of our guys (who wasn't racing today) was at the feed zone handing up water and doing a lot of work to make life better for the rest of us pre- and post- race. He's racing next week, not sure what we'll do!

We met up early (I was up at 5:45 am) so they could get me race numbers and a timing chip. The line was long, but we were in the front of it. There was an issue, though, not quite sure how the guys knew there was a problem, but we had to return to the line a little later to get it fixed. Basically, no one here believes that my first name is not my last name. There are certain girl and boy names here that most people have and my name isn't one of them. At least they all spell it correctly (since my name is an Italian word). Thank goodness for the Italian last name. I didn't see one name that wasn't Italian on the entire start list (and there were hundreds out there between the long and short courses - 140 km long, 89 km short, I think).

The guys loaded me up with food and nutrition products (there's a big emphasis on BCAA--branched-chain amino acids here...I know when I used to race, I swore by them and no one ever believed me (except for my coach) that they really enhance performance. Basically I'm sold on them (again) after today. It was pretty funny, Daniele took the liberty of cleaning out my jersey pockets just before the race. Bye-bye wallet, camera, cell phone. Extra weight. I'm so glad he did since my pockets were the nastiest things ever by the end of the race with all of the water bottles (plastic screw-top ones w/o a top from feed zones), left-over gel wrappers, etc. Unfortunately, though, I don't have any team pics with us wearing our uniforms. A picture was taken, but it's on film, so it could be awhile before I get it.

There was a huge blow-up start/finish line banner (super awesome, like what they have at pro races in the U.S.) I understand that as a woman, I can start in front if I want. (5 total women from what I could see and gobs of men in my race. I need to get totals, not sure on those.) Today I started in the middle of the pack with my teammates and that was tough. It really only dawned on me that this was a real race in the realest sense of the term at the gun. The race started in town and it was a sketchy start. Jockeying for position was everywhere, potholes (an Umbrian thing) were everywhere, lots of squeaking carbon-fiber wheels/brakes (I hate that sound). The start was no different in intensity and feel than the start of the pro races I experienced in the U.S. I expected to see crashes considering the jockeying, but these guys handle their bikes really well. No one did anything all day to freak me out. Unfortunately, Fabio, our President (mentioned earlier), crashed at one point and his collarbone took the brunt of it. I hope to understand what happened. Right now, I don't know how to ask.

I was able to make up some positions after we got on the open road. I stayed back a little at the start since I didn't trust myself. I haven't had a big mass-start race in years (local CO races don't count considering the small pack sizes in the women's fields)...and this is the first race this season. Pretty funny to choose the longest race of my life (and with men) as a first one for the season. I'm glad I didn't know what it was all about going in, I might have decided not to do it considering my strength is more in criteriums (short 45 minute races), not road races and not with men.

The first 30 km were rolling, but not bad terrain-wise. They were fast, though. I can't remember these miles well at all. My heart rate was well above LT (urgh, I have been training in zone 2 for months now with short bursts above LT). It wasn't long before groups formed. Instructions from my team: today was about finishing. No being out in the wind, no pulling others, no riding solo. Make it across the finish line.

At 30km, the road went up. Up. And up. Over 1,000 feet in ~5-6kms. I dropped back some from the group, but caught up with everyone on or just after the descent. On we rode. Again, it was good that my camera wasn't in my back pocket. Some of the vistas were too amazing not to photograph. The countryside is ridiculously green right now. I took turns with the guys pulling, but I spent a little less time than they at the front since it was a long race and I had real concerns about finishing. It's been ages since I've done a ride this long, let alone a race.

Not once during the race did one guy have any issues with racing with me. They were great to work with me and I made it clear I was there to race. One made me start laughing when I took my turn at the front of the pack and he started yelling (friendly way) to go faster. So I yelled back and pulled off, offering him a chance at the front.

The group tended to go a bit slower than I'd like on the rolling portions during the middle of the race. It would have been nice to catch onto a really fast group and get dropped until I found a group that pushed me just to the limit. But, beggars can't be choosers. I wasn't offering to help us go any faster. Survival.

We worked together for a good long time and made it over tons of small rollers (hills). Easy when I'm sitting on someone's wheel. Much harder when I'm alone. My legs felt great all day, it was weird. I also ate a lot before and during the race. We flew through a few little towns. People were set up to watch. There weren't that many spectators, but it was nice to see the people out watching. Navigating the tiny city streets was cool--it was Euro Pro cool, very similar to what you'd see the pros riding in the Giro d'Italia. Speaking of which, that race is starting soon!

The next big climb (maybe? I forget.) was in Assisi. At the top was a feed zone. I was dying of thirst at this point and had to have 2 bottles of water. So I stopped to get the water and meanwhile the group sped down the hill. I didn't come this far to have these guys get away from me and no way did I care to wait for the next group to come up from behind. One of the bottles fell out of my jersey pocket. Very upsetting. An ambulance was following behind me...they stopped to pick up the bottle and drove up next to me to give it to me. Crazy nice! Then it was an all-out 7 km time-trial to jump back in with the guys. It worked, I made it back.

The adrenaline of the chase gave me a little more zip...it was time to start working harder. I figured finishing was in the cards and I was also plotting to contest the finish. Not okay to sprint for the line if I haven't worked much during the race. From then on out for the rest of the race (the last 60ish km), I worked just as hard as the guys. It was waaay more fun this way, though harder, of course. I had thought that CO altitude training had worn off...it hasn't yet. Recovery from efforts was really quick and it felt good to push it. There was another massive climb and I lost some ground on that one (made the mistake of going up the first part too fast and then discovering that it wasn't going to end for awhile). But after working with one guy, we made it back to most of everyone on the flat section and then were together with the group until the end. I knew I should have tried to attack a little distance from the finish line. The guys I was with all had a bit of leg muscle indicating sprint ability. But, I also wanted to see what would happen. It's not like I was competing with them for anything. I was only competing against the women, whom I hadn't seen after the race started. It was great, a real sprint finish! And I had legs to sprint, too. In fact, they felt fine after finishing. Definitely should have tried an attack just for fun (small chance it would have worked).

After we finished the race, it was nice to shake hands with some of the guys I'd worked with during the race. They were super sweet, very generous with kind words and I very much felt like one of them. When I say this, I mean I felt like one of the guys and I'm feeling more Italian every day that I understand more of the language and culture. There's a lot to this culture that isn't obvious to the casual observer. Remind me to blog on this another day. I'm understanding a lot more on why many Italians don't speak English, why they live in their home towns forever, live so long and appear so happy.

Post race with the team (a few people are missing from this shot), bummer! It was all smiles though there's a broken collarbone and lots of tired legs. Daniele is the one in the scarf. I'm next to il Presidente senza happy collarbone.

The race promoter sponsored a huge pasta feast after the race. Food served included macaroni with meat sauce, salad, neck of pig, pound cake, white and red wine. I've never eaten this well post-race and my legs really feel the difference.

Racers in line for the food.

Tutti mangiano il cibo buono (eating their good food)!

Roberta (my teammate) rocked it in her race--here she in on the podium. There were many more women in her race than in mine.

It's not every day I get a chance to stand on the podium with a world champ (woman on the right in the white shirt is Michela Gorini). Yes, I'm wearing my Bikes Belong shirt (thanks, Kate). Got a few questions about the organization yesterday. Oh yeah, the girls on the right and left are real podium girls. I had seen them earlier putting on makeup and doing girly things. Considering the jerseys, I thought they were racers, but was pretty confused since they couldn't possibly be racers if they care about their hair and makeup at a race.

I think this pic is just full of irony. I get third, am standing up there with a world champ, but I got the great vase and a lot of attention. I'm pretty sure it's because I traveled the furthest for the race or am foreign (only one there yesterday, I believe) or something. Can't translate yet, but it was a great way to wrap up the race. Other winnings included a very large salami and bottle of wine.

The meat.

A quick note about the swag bag (all racers received one). It included laundry detergent for 55 loads (awesome since I just moved and was about to go to the store for just that), a bottle of wine, pasta and a nice refrigerator-less large container of milk. If one registered for this Gran Fondo in advance, it was 25 euro. I'd say that's quite a good deal considering all of the support during the race, the great road control, timing system, pasta feast and huge swag bag. It costs $25-30ish US for a 45-minute crit and not much else. I'm not criticizing U.S. race promoters, they'd do it less expensively if it were possible, it's just the whole system (insurance, cost of patrols, etc, etc) and number of racers that makes the difference. 

Daniele gave me a ride home (thank goodness), I wouldn't have been able to ride. Before he vanished, he made sure I had some gelato (chocolate cherry and what was called muffin). Now that was the perfect end to the day!

I've nicknamed Daniele Taz.

I explained this to him, I think he understands. The explanation was funny: Me: do you know the Tazmanian Devil? Him: No. Me: Do you know Mickey Mouse? Him: Ah yes. Me (in English): Okay, cartoon character. What about Bugs Bunny? Him: Yes. Me: Taz is a relative of Bugs similar to a tornado. Gotta get creative in explanations with my small Italian vocab.

This fits him so well. He is this flurry of Italian, everything he does is quick and deliberate; he wastes no time on anything. The very moment it's time to go, he wisks me away to whatever is next. Or he takes off to who knows where. Often I don't know exactly what is going on. I'm really glad my obligations are few and friends are few here. Much easier to not have to say that I'd like to, but I have to do this other thing...it's too complicated to express!

[Now it's Sunday morning and I'm finally posting yesterday's blog & including today in it.]

This morning I woke up at 8 and found a txt message saying that we'd be getting together at 8:10...so I flew to get ready and got out of the house at 8:20. People talk about Italian time (Italians are known to be chronically late to everything), but with bike riders, they seem to always be on time.

Daniele, Paolo and I had a nice 55km recovery ride (was supposed to be 100km), but a lot of rain made us turn around early. I slipped and crashed in a corner, I forget that braking is bad in rain. Wasn't any big deal considering the road was smooth and wet. It was sweet to see the guys super concerned. I wish I knew what they were saying--the Italian was flying rapidly between them. Afterwards, Daniele got me dry clothes and his mom made me tea and fed me. She was sweet and very welcoming. I spent some time talking to her. We understood each other well for the simple things we relayed to each other.

I know I mention Daniele a lot, he's sort of the center of my world here right now. There's nothing romantic going on, he is very kind with good intentions. I trust him and am very happy to have him in my life. He puts me at ease because I know he is taking care of me without expecting anything in return. I am trying to figure out how to repay his kindness...I hope to figure it out. At this point, he has refused anything I try to offer (which hasn't been a lot since I never know what to expect going in to any situation).

Off to hit the books, do laundry and figure out where to get my next meal. Town is closed today and all of the food I own has to be cooked (I don't know how to use a cigarette lighter to light the stove...trust me, I've tried).