Wannabe Bike Girl

After not having watched a single stage since the second stage (because they are all conveniently on when I am working, isn’t that awesome?), I am watching the final stage. I actually actively didn’t make any effort to watch (as in recording the stages), not because I didn’t care, because I like it when Mark Cavendish wins things. But because I do not like Levi Leipheimer. And now I’m sitting here (taking a break from what I should be doing (aka cleaning) and thinking “wouldn’t it be great if Levi lost this race?” The answer is, of course, yes. I know that I don’t have a good reason not to like Leipheimer, aside from him being on Astana and Armstrong’s teammate (which is more than enough reason, now that I think about it). My reasons are several, superfically, I don’t like him because I don’t like the way he looks. Everyone has these reactions to people, it says nothing about how they behave or whatever, so there’s that. It’s not a huge reason, but I’m not going to pretend that Leipheimer is, oh, Gerald Ciolek or Sylvain Chavanel. But the other reason is less rational and more, well, lame.  He’s never done anything that I liked. He always gets in the way of people I actually like (Chris Horner does this all the time, too and I still am bitter about it).

But at the same time, there was a period in my life when I did like Armstrong. Hell, everyone I know has gone through it — some of them have never left it, but that’s neither here nor there. The point is that even when I did like Armstrong, Hamilton and later Landis, I never ever liked Leipheimer. Something about him rubbed me the wrong way. And the fact that he’s about to win this race for the third time? UGH. I had this problem with Armstrong (and it’s partly why I resent his coming back) and dominating a race. Not just within the race, but year after year. It’s boring, it’s lame and it shouldn’t happen (I say that, but I guess if it was someone I liked, I might feel differently, but then again, it isn’t).

So, Mr. Leipheimer. I hope something happens and somehow you don’t win. I guess I’ll get back to cleaning, since technically I’m not actually watching the tv, just listening to it.

Thanks for the great birthday gift, Mark Cavendish. I totally appreciate it.

I have to admit, I’ve forgotten just how many cyclists I don’t like. And god, there are so many. Please go away, guys. And that means you: Ivan Basso, Armstrong, Hamilton, Landis, et al. I don’t like you and you ruin my fun.

Well, Jan Ullrich has announced his retirement, effective immediately or something like that.

I emailed my mother about this when I saw the news this morning, and she basically said what I feel: that she’s sad Ullrich won’t be racing anymore, but you have to wonder. I don’t know if I believe he did anything, but now that he’s retired I think we should just leave it well alone. It’s time to move forward with cycling and not backward.

Which is why watching the Tour of California was such an interesting experience because I wasn’t rooting for a single ProTour team (though I was quietly cheering for Liquigas to do moderately well) to win overall. The team I was rooting for (and will continute to root for as the season progresses) is Team Slipstream. They are basically amazing.

Welcoming Testing, Team Battles Cycling’s Image

JULIAN, Calif. — On these mild, clear winter days in the mountains east of San Diego, one professional cycling team is trying to set itself apart from the doping scandals that have shaken its sport.

Like most teams, Team Slipstream is training on roller-coaster roads, sometimes more than 120 miles a day for more than six hours at a time.

But there is a visible difference between this team and others: at the crook of the riders’ arms are a series of dark needle marks. They are the results of repeated blood tests, part of a drastic and innovative anti-doping program the team began here last month in an attempt to prove its riders are clean.