Tomi McMillar
Sponsor/Team: TomiCogs/Gettysburg Cupcake Factory
Hometown: Carlisle, PA
BLOGGER ARTICLE #1, May 1st, 2009
BLOGGER ARTICLE #2, May 31st, 2009
Tomi McMillar was born April 16, 1970, Peoria, Illinois and moved to Pennsyltucky as a 4yr old. He spent his childhood playing on bikes, playing in the woods and down at the creek. He wanted to design aeroplanes, so got an aerospace engineering degree w/ a minor in bike racing from VA Tech in '92 and now lives in Carlisle, PA, working as an enginerd for a metal fabrications shop with Michaux State Forest for a backyard. He’s still playing on bikes, in the woods and down along the creek. These woods are a bit bit bigger than those he grew up next to, but so is his appetite for exploring. Tomi will be blogging for Bike as he preps for the upcoming Breck Epic, a 200 mile high-altitude sufferfest held in Breckenridge, CO on July 5-10.
Lots of thoughts about what to write for this debut post. So far, this has been an interesting journey, that's for sure. But first, Hudge! thanks to everybody that's making it possible. MikeyMac for brainstormin' the idea, bringing recognized stage racing to the US of A. Also props to the other bloggerific bloggers, a pre-thanks to all the cool folks that'll be taking care of us out there and of course you, the audience, our enablers. Onward, eh?
Ever have to write a "What I did for summer vacation" back to school essay? I didn't, at least not that I recall. But I do remember writing a whole bunch of book reports. And since I'm feeling like I'm back in school again, assignment due Friday!, I thought a book report would be a familiar jumping in point. The book I'm currently reading is called "The Dancing Chain. History and Development of the Derailleur Bicycle" by Frank J. Berto. This is an amazing 400 page chronicle covering how the modern bicycle developed. For me, it contains about 20 pages of useful history about the early evolution of the bike, and then another 380 pages about shiney jingly jangly bits you can hang off of said bike. Mechanized bits that supposedly enhance performance, enhance the ride. 100 years of technological development, none of which you actually need for a journey like this.
So, how to get ready for this journey? Pretty much the same as always I guess, just get out and ride. Head out and follow your nose. Roll steady along the whiteline, riding solitary silent 40:15. Explore the local back roads, learning grades and texture while becoming lost in the landscape. Experiencing the sinuey sweeping countryside, becoming intimate with each change in pitch as there's always feedback into the pedals, always. Start out the door easy, working on balance as a transition from the day. Work to keep tires on paint while spinning out thru the neighborhoods. Further out, begin finding the line through touch. The texture is different, a less grumbly feedback into the Conti's tells you if you're on track, so no need to stare intently. Not yet at least, instead, watch the birdies, or a flock of butterflies on the roadside flowers. Breath deep, take it all in and stay loose, hands relaxed, able to play a piano at a moments notice. Work it out, spin it out, let the engine warm up as systems come on line.
Loosen up the brain too, fight through the annoying cube dwelling commuters as they come in waves. And finally, truely relax once out beyond the former cornfields, now white picket American dream. Begin to meditate on the line, let it mesmerize you, keep turning 'em over at a talkative pace. Work out the day's thoughts, answer some questions and leave others for later, as usual. Let the burdens slip off to the side and find some focus.
Out here, along the whiteline, it begins as drills, bike practice. Practice 'holding your line' by literally holding onto the line. Play with it on these couple of opening kickers, hitting 'em out of the saddle, but keep those tires in contact, feeling the smoothness with a focused grimace projecting into the near distance. Then down on the hooks for the backside spun out descent, winding her up past 30, and holllld. Solitary concentration is of a smooth pedal stroke, no bouncybouncy above the hips, kick it over the top quick snap. Mind is focusing on these tasks, embedding the motions ever deeper into instinct. Wind it up, wind it up, wind it up with each little challenge. Another handful of these little hits, and soon enough the voices of the day go silent, the conversation is over, replaced with a huffing and a puffing and a singular mantra.
hold. this. cadence.
and analyze the sensations, the reactions, and look up the road and set a marker. Scope the next stretch, eye up any hazards and head down watching the whiteline thru the front hub. Let the engine rev and take a quick inventory, checking for any red flag feedback....green lights all around, neat. Now, hold. this. cadence. Roll past the marker looking for the next, jog memory and think of some arbitrary spot down the road, that's where it ends. hold. this. cadence. Yeah, now we're getting somewhere, acid spigots are opening for sure, this is gonna burn for a bit. Road pitches a bit beyond false flat, really beginning to work the pedal stroke, every last degree of rotation has to have some muscle associated with it. There should be no dead spot, a pure circular stroke creates no surging pitch to the whir of the chain. Not WHurWHurWHurWHur, but whiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrr.
Work on developing power all thru the rotation, drop the heel and scrape it under, pedaling from the ankle, then pull with the hammies and kick it over the top with the hip. hold. this. cadence. Look up the road, read the pitch...ok. bit more of a dig before it relaxes, then goes again. Head down and wait for it, seeing only the white line and out of saddle swerving front wheel. 10, 9, 8,...whut??? Look up, grit and grimace and the only voice you hear takes over as a whisper at first....
you can do it, you can do it, you can do this.
been here before, time to go again.
you can do this. settle and breath,
find the tempo. you can do this.
qwik upward glance, focus back on front tire
ok, 1/2 way thru, you can do this,
fuck this hurts. you can do this,
hold. this. cadence. dammit this
sucks, fuck! you can do this.
you. can. do. this!!
this is what it takes, right?
YES!!!! now shut up & pedal!
hold. this. cadence.
3/4 done. DIIIGG!!
this is what it takes,
this is where it's at,
this is the work that needs done.
put it in the bank now,
be like the squirrel.
you can DO THIS!!!
PEDALLLLL!!!
fucking pedal you fucking PUSSY!!
FINISH IIIIIIIIT!!!
whew.
done. fini.
cough. wease.
throw up in your
mouth a little.
damn, that was neat,
now recover and go again.
is this what it takes?
is this what it takes to not totally suck ass at Breck?
yeah?
well shit.
better keep on pedaling.
End of trail collection point,
"How far did you get?"
"Further than usual before blowing up..." I reply.
A chuckle and a knowing nod.
As I was blowing up and finishing off the missed line induced endo hand dab, Buck rolls by and says, "nice pull." 45 minutes into the ride, and I just came unglued, and it won't be the only time. Today's the day for this shit, it's Sunday and this is the Sunday ride. If you don't want to follow wheel, then you'd better set a tempo that doesn't let anyone by too easily. Not pedaling fast enough? You will get heckled. If you want fresh trail, if you want that true Ewok Jedi mindtrip thru the lowbush blueberry, then you best be on it. And you damn well better stay on it.....at least until you come unglued, then it's best to get out of the way.
The pace, it starts out conversational from the lot, spinning the previous evening's celebration out of the legs. Take a quick break for wardrobe adjustments, bit of banter, then the one speeders move to the front to stretch our legs on the opening climb. Nobody likes a gap this early, so this bit of escalante' is continued into the rolly polly singletrack, testing 1, testing 2. The banter goes silent, replaced by yoga-ish tantric breathing and soon enough it's run rabbit run time. This early pace raises doubts though, huffing and puffing trying to latch onto others still in conversation. Why am I working so hard, so early? Ohhh, that's right, five and a half hours of day long tempo yesterday followed by last night's beverages means it might take a bit longer for the legs to turn over. Give it time, let the diesel warm up.
A qwik breather at the mid trail collection point, "Everybody good?" Good. Take a drink, click clack into the pedals, small talk conversation lingers once more during the roll out. The rabbit out front settles into a tempo feeling the flow, then second wheel has a stick get stuck and shuts it down. Sofffft pedal for a moment, move around the stick jammer, now sitting second wheel. Stick is cleared, the all aboard is sounded, time out over, soft pedal banter subsides and every body's focus is repartitioned. Concentration whittled down to the searing sensations in your legs and the 10" wide by bikelength long visual spot at ~6meters out. Ride with big eyes, taking it all in, and do what you can to either absorb the pain or make it disappear while trying to pedal harder than you previously thought possible.
A glance up the trail shows that the gap isn't growing this time, keep holding onto that wheel as long as possible. You put in the request to the engine room, quick analysis of the pedal stroke and I think I can maybe fire this muscle group a bit earlier. Slight shift of the hips, breath and find another touch of cadence. I'm not getting dropped today, I refuse to get dropped today, just keep turnin' 'em over, and over and over. Ride on instinct thru the blur, see the foot falls like glowing radioactive footprints down the trail, the faster you pedal, the faster you go. Left, right, left, right, left, right, spotting obstacles and setting your line 3, 4 strides out. Bob and weave, bob and weave, never letting off the gas and override the system that tells you to shut it down now! Leave nothing in the tank! Tell yourself to push on, today's the day for this, nothing to save it for. There is no finish climb, no sprint for the line, no checkered flags, the end of this ride is just the end of the ride. Crack early? who cares, the group will wait, sorta...or you head home early with your tail between your legs.
Although I profess to not train, ick, hate that word, there is a need to do this work, 'to prepare' as Elk says. Been playing this game for a long time, 20 years now since my first mtn bike race, running cross country since the sixth grade before that. I have a decent enough handle on what I need to do to be ready, I think. There's always a mystery to it, that is what makes it fun for me. What I can't do is chase numbers, zones, intervaling, metering, coached regimens. Nope, not for me, no thanks. Well, I will chase mph's on the road bike on occasion, mix in some small challenges to spice it up every now and then. The key for me is to hide the preparation, disguise it behind a big old fake mustache of 'fun.' Do that by not sitting on the tail end of the Sunday train, go after the freshies and earn 'em when the mood strikes. Yeah, get out and do the work, but not solitary drooling over some gizmo gadget, ride with your peers and feed off the energy.
Riding the bike is easy enough, pedaling one is a pretty simple act. The real battle is in the head. Setting goals, confronting the fear, risking failure. How to be ready, how to prepare specifically for something like this BreckEpic? Will these Sunday rides be enough? No, of course not, do need to get out and turn 'em over during the week, log that standard 12-15hours. Boosting it now and then to tax the system, then let it all rebound and bounce onto the next plateau. Waves, crests and troughs, it is a hypocritical fine line I play in my head, this d.i.y. Luddite trend vs. conformist trained monkey. It's the game I play, parsing the rhetoric to trick myself into setting foot out the door on those days when you really don't want to. Like on day four of a four day block, looking at the fix and sometimes wishing you had another option in the stable. Something other than the 40:15 to tackle Wagoner's Gap with. Wouldn't it be nice to just spin up a climb sometime?
But then again, how would you ever know what you're capable of?
Tomi's Original Blog Contest Application
Where are you from?
The Eastern Great Valley. Minored in bike racing at VA Tech back in the day, then bounced a bit locally before settling here in the Cumberland Valley with Michaux for a backyard.
What kind of bike do you ride
All of my bikes are made from eight tubes of steel, have two wheels and one speed. Sometimes they coast, sometimes they don't.
What do you love about it?
The freedom provided.
Solo or team competitor? Why?
Solo, because expanding my personal limits is, well, personal. Can't always do that when racing as a team.
Done any ultra-endurance stuff before?
Thirteen hundo's, six on a fix. Tour de 'burg six times, 100% fixed in '07. A few 24's via teams & a duo. Getting into overnight bikepacking to really see how far I can go.
Favorite food?
Pizza, hold the olives, light on the onions, pile on the rest.
Movie?
12 Monkeys
Book?
On the Road
Worst experience on a bike?
Seeing my best friend get clipped by a drunk driver while spinning back to the car after a sweet Sunday ride in Michaux. That kinda sucked.
Best experience on a bike?
The very first time I remember my mom putting me in that rickety plastic seat on the back of her townie bike for a ride down the street to visit the neighbor's. I was three and recall being sort of terrified at the wobbly start. But man, once we were moving, I've been forever hooked on that flying sensation. Thanks mom.
Tell us about your favorite 'local' ride:
Getting away from the beaten path, linking together Bambi's vision; primative, raw, not-IMBA approved. Hidden stretches of flowing loamy love thru lowbush blueberry and knee high ferns stashed in the middle of world reknowned rocky techy gnar. Following the natural lines of travel thru the forest, not too steep, never straight, but rolling and zigging and zagging just right. Goldilocks would approve, I'm sure.
Tell us about your favorite ride EVER:
I'd like to think that the best is yet to come, that's one reason why I'm throwing my hat into this ring. But if I had to rank one, it would be the day my dad took the training wheels off that little blue bike.
Who will play you in the Breck Epic movie and why?
Probably the "I've fallen and can't get up" lady from Life Alert (tm), but hopefully it won't come to that.
What do you hope to get out of this experience?
Laid. I mean, if being a fixed gear mountain bicycle stage racing stud doesn't bring in the chicks, then why else should I bother? oh, wait.....I meant to say that it's a zen thing. Yeah, it's all about the zen. And not being DFL on 1800's technology.
Tell us about your history as a cyclist or in the industry:
Have always ridden bikes; kiddy bikes, then String Ray banana seat styley, bmxer's, 10 speeds. Bought my first mountain bike before heading to college in '88, hooked. Started raced spring '89 and haven't looked back, always wondering what's next? Started with those epic 40k's back in the day, then NORBA, dabbled in 24's, then grassroots XXC's and Monsters which are now 50's, 100's. Underground stage racing lit the fuse for multi day adventure and now I'm gearing up for the overnight touring game. Been friends with some of the original Hugh Jass gang since college, awed by the fixed approach at that muddy Canaan 24 in '98. Then Tim's ride at the Shen100 in '02 really opened my eyes. Tried it, liked it and now I find myself holding a handful of meaningless fixed 'course records' and producing bolt on fix gear cogs and stainless chainrings to fund my adventures. What a fun trip it's been.
(ED: I got passed by a Hugh Jass guy on a friggin' clown bike with ape-hanger bars in the middle of the night about a decade ago at the 24 Hours of Moab. It was the year they all rode in the same pair of acid-washed bike shorts...not identical shorts, mind you, but the SAME PAIR. They switched them from rider to rider in the transition area. Anyway. the guy that passed me was obviously laboring, (cuz i'm a stud, right?) and while he was passing me he kept chanting to himself "HYooo-jassss, hyoooo-jasss-heeeeyeeewwww-JASSS!". I was laughing so hard that I almost fell down.)
Feel free to blatantly self-promote here. A quote you like, a direct appeal to the voters, some hateful vitriolic slander for your political opponents. This is your space, decorate it however you like:
My plan is to race this thing on a fixed gear and winning a slot in this contest is probably the only way that that will happen. I've done a stage race fixed before, it wasn't easy, it kinda sucked in some respect, but was also quite rewarding in many ways. This is a chance for me to do it again, and see Colorado for the first time! Cuz there's no way I'm throwing down good money to torture myself in that way again, I'd rather spend it on a trip to Durango for SSWC09, no offense Mike. ;-P (ED - none taken. But a fixie? You should carry a gun. With one bullet. Not for bears or anything, but for yourself.)
So please, please, pleeeeeeeeeeeze, vote me into this thing and I promise to attempt wholeheartedly to keep ya'll entertained along the way. Open the window and let ya'll witness the different bits and pieces of the working mind of a slightly off kilter bicycle loving nut job.
Links to your work:
Post S-D-S, Pre-Mohican Mind Chatter: http://tomi-mcmillar.blogspot.com/2008/05/used-to-be-racer.html
'08 Mohican 100 Write-up: http://tomi-mcmillar.blogspot.com/2008/06/defeated.html
First Overnight Tour: http://tomi-mcmillar.blogspot.com/2008/09/carte-blanche.html
