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Vande Velde's View: Reality bites
Reality sucks at times.
Things come crashing down (figuratively and literally) to earth and it’s in times like this that a guy can really look around and see things quite clearly. The little things you take for granted, like opening a door, being able to take a back pack off, washing your hair, eating food that was cooked the same day, seeing the sun, suddenly disappear when you have a broken collarbone and happen to be racing in Paris-Nice.
When you crash you’re thankful for many things, mainly your health, and the fact that it wasn't worse, because it could've been worse, it could always be worse. Then giving the fact that we came from one of the best new races to come on the calendar in a long time, let us all wonder why Paris-Nice is one of the most coveted races of the year. And why is it in March? You know it's gonna snow, it's not bad luck if it happens every year. Okay, so maybe we had good luck in California with the weather, and maybe I am a little biased being an American. But, I don't remember staying at the Four Seasons in Paris-Nice, but I will remember how cold I was in Paris-Nice and then trying to sleep in a bed so small that my feet hung over edge. Enough. Sorry. As you can tell already I (actually 99 percent of us) had a great experience in California. From the prologue in ‘Frisco to spraying Champagne in LA, it was a cool experience. CSC didn't garnish any wins but we were in the hunt during most of the stages. The crowds were awesome; 1.3 million people lined the streets! That is like 12 Rose Bowls but we did it all in eight days. Not too bad for the old fringe sport. Maybe this could give us a nudge in the right direction. The fans got to see a great field that held more or less all of the American riders and a big handful of European stars, from Savoldelli and Eki to Stuey and Jens.
People love Jens. I think that it was a big shock for him, he didn't quite expect all of these people from America to be making signs and T-shirts with his name on it. My favorite happened to be "Jens is my Homie" and "Jens for President." Maybe they’ve forgotten that ol’ Jens was raised in East Berlin and that some of his political agenda might not line up with their democratic views.
Then I saw this guy who had sampled his fair share of the free Tequila at the team presentation do his best two armed salute when Stuey was announced. It looked half way between a Metallica concert (pump fists, bang head) and a white guy convention; at this point in time I knew it was going to be a good week.
Blah, Blah, Blah… you already know how the race went. Floyd flew in the TT in his even scarier new position and held enough time to more or less cruise to victory… just like he is going to do this week in Paris-Nice.
After the Tour of Cali’, I flew home the next day, hung out in Girona for a few days and took the night train from Girona to Paris on Friday.
My team thought that I was crazy and still does, but it wasn't that bad. Okay, I had my lovely wife with me for company, so that made things much better. But all in all it wasn’t so bad. Leaving your house 30 minutes before the train leaves, having a nice spread of a breakfast upon waking up and then just walking out into downtown Paris 15 minutes later. Stress free. No checking bags, no lines. You just need to be able to sleep through an earthquake.
I left 70-degree weather in Girona and arrived to snow flurries in Paris. All of the good omens of California had flipped to the complete opposite in Paris. Bobby kicked off the week right though and smoked the TT. He rode the course perfectly, taking the last few corners like Valentino Rossi (world champion moto GP) and in the process took five seconds out of most of the peloton over the last kilometer. Impressive. I was 20th and felt much better than I had in California. Hey, maybe this week wasn't going to be so bad after all. I absolutely froze the next day. Shaking at times and then having a bit of blurred vision. I was a wreck for at least 15 miles of the first stage of the race. The snow didn't help things and when it wasn't snowing or raining, the wet roads kept us frozen. The next day was dry, but we had all learned our lessons from the day before and had all the warm artillery on. The day was slow and that sometimes leads to crashes and it did. There had to be seven or eight in all and I fell victim to one of them. Landing on my teammate’s wheel and breaking my collar bone in the process.
The doctors said that there were no broken bones but I knew better as it hurt like hell. So yesterday I went back to the hospital here in Girona and what do you know: It's broken. Not a bad break and I've already been back on the trainer. So hopefully I will be racing sooner than later. The last few weeks have been rough on the team. First, Matti got taken out by Robbie as he was undoubtedly about to win the last stage of West Flanders, breaking two vertebrae. Then I crashed, taking Michael Blauzden with me. He hurt his knee. Stuey crashed the next day and broke his clavicle and five ribs. Then Lars Bak went down yesterday at 40-something miles an hour and stopped the race. Five guys in one week. Bjarne somehow seemed calm on the phone when I told him that I had in fact broken it. It is only March and the bulk of the season comes later, but it is always hard to see, even if it isn't a teammate. I'll be back soon; maybe even better than before. Rest does strange things from time to time.
