Initiation Day

stoked (st kt). adj. Slang. 1. Exhilarated or excited

This word is just plain cool. It's the Fonzy of the English langauge. I don't remember the exact moment I first heard it, but I'm sure it was while I was watching the X-Games. Since that time, I've tried to find a way to incorporate it into my vocabulary, but I've had no luck. You see, this word is like an outlaw biker handshake or a prison tat, you can't just throw it around in everyday conversation, it must be earned. Let me give you an example. "I was stoked that we sold 10 lasagnas tonight" or "I'm stoked about that Buffalo Mozzarella we're serving," it just doesn't work. To use this word in a conversation, you must be referring to an experience or event that can cause bodily harm. It's the only acceptable way. For at least 10 years, I have been carrying this word with me like a repressed memory screaming to come to life. Well, last night, I was initiated. I got my prison tat and I was stoked about it.

As I pulled into the parking lot at the Memphis Fairgrounds, the hair on the back of my neck stood at attention. There were riders unloading their bikes while others were sitting on their tailgates putting their kits on. I found a parking spot and killed the engine. As I sat in silence, feelings of excitement and horror rushed through my body. I gave myself a final pep talk and stepped out of the car. I walked to the registration tent, signed in, got my race number and went back to get ready. I dressed, pulled my bike off the rack, clipped in and headed towards the course. This was it... my first crit race.

I had no expectations going into this event. I just wanted to ride with the pack for as long as I could, and if I got dropped it was okay. I would use this race as a benchmark for the second and third of the three-race series. The course was a seven-tenths of a mile loop, and we would be racing 30 minutes + 3 laps. I would be riding in the Cat 5 (beginner) group. I pulled onto the course to take some warm up laps and hit my first obstacle, the wind. You ever see that scene in Twister when the cows fly across the road? It was like that. The finish line straight, which was probably .4 of the .7 was dead into the wind and it was murder. I rode three warm-up laps and went back to the staging area. It wasn't until the announcer said "Cat 5 to the line" did I get nervous. I pulled into position and grabbed a drink. When I looked down at my computer my heart rate was climbing and I knew I had to relax. I looked over my shoulder and there they were, the family. The boys were waving and yelling "hello" to their old dad and it was cool. I looked at the other riders and spectators on the side of the road, just taking it all in. It was at that moment that it hit me- I was competing in a bike race, and I was proud. The race official gave us our final instructions and counted us down, 3, 2, 1...

When the pack pulled off, my heart rate immediately climbed back up - not from effort, but from excitement. We made our first corner and the speed began to ramp up, not bad, but it ramped. I was sitting mid pack, just holding my line. The last thing I wanted was to make a mistake and take somebody out or crash. When we reached the short section of the track that was tailwind, the boys upfront took full advantage. They were hauling ass. We came out of this section and into a left hand turn. Here, the crosswind was brutal and you had to really hold your bike. So far so good. When we hit the headwind for the first time the pace of the group slowed dramatically, like a yellow flag at a NASCAR race. Tucked into the middle of the pack, I wasn't really affected. As we closed upon the finish line I looked to my right, and there were my boys - cheering. I couldn't help but smile. One lap down. We rode this pace for another three laps. I was feeling really good at this point that I'd be able to hang with the group until the finish. Then I hit my second obstacle.

As we were approaching the entrance into the tailwind section of the course I moved up a few positions. I knew the guys up front were going to hit the accelerator and I didn't want to be towards the back. I put my head down for a second and hit the pedals hard, then I heard it. I looked up and saw the rider in front of me veer dead right into another rider, and as the two of them came down, they took out a third. The three of them went straight to the pavement. I slammed on my brakes and my heart skipped a beat - or two. I came to a complete stop. This couldn't have happened at a worse spot on the course, and the main pack never slowed. I clipped back in and went as hard as I could. I knew if I didn't catch the group my day would be over. I was beginning to catch them when we hit the straightaway. The wind hit me like a ton of bricks. I knew at that moment my ride was over. When I came past the family this time there was no smile. But my boys still called out to me. One more lap around and I was cooked. I just couldn't stand the wind anymore, so I pulled off. I tried to tell myself it was okay, but then I thought about the boys. What would they think when I didn't ride by? I pulled back on and kept riding, for them and for me. I didn't want to go home knowing I quit. I rode the final two laps and came across the finish line. My dad was standing just beyond it, and gave me that look of "good job for fighting it out."

As I rode around on my cool-down lap my mind was racing. I was both happy for finishing and disappointed because the crash took me out of the group. I wondered how long I could have hung on had it not happened. I rode over to my family and Kimberly and the boys congratulated me, telling me how proud they were. I realized at that moment that I had accomplished something. I'm a 37 year old restauranteur and I have grit. I may have been in the back, but I was there til the end. My boys didn't understand where I finished, they just knew that I finished, and that was the important thing.

Next Wednesday night I'll get another chance to see how I can compete, and I'm stoked about it.

Happy B-Day Shank

Today is Shank's B-day, he's 3. We refer to him as "Shank" because he literally shanked his older brother with a fork one night at the dinner table. The three pronged bruise lasted about a week, but there was no skin puncture, so it was okay. Shank Grisanti has a nice ring to it, in a Goodfellas type way, definitely tougher than "Paulie Walnuts" or "Jimmy Two Times".

Shank is the second of our three children. He spends his days trying to keep up with his older brother and distancing himself from his younger sister. He loves playing outside, Star Wars, and his Bebe & Passy. He hates thunder and blueberries. His smile and personality light up any room and his hair is, well, just plain awesome.

In typical Grisanti fashion, we had a party yesterday here at the house. We blew up the bouncy and had plenty of yard games for the kids. The dining room table was stocked with food and the patio was full of family and good friends. We spent the day enjoying the beautiful weather and watching the kids run, play and laugh. It couldn't have been any better.

Tonight, Kimberly, the kids and I will do a small birthday celebration and give Shank his gifts. I will cook his favorite dinner, macaroni and cheese and there will probably be some cake and ice cream. Shank is a beautiful boy, he's my buddy and I love him very much. Just don't try and take any food from his dinner plate...

Happy Birthday Shank, We love you.

Crack Nuggets and Such

I need to shed 25 pounds in the next four months. This will be the toughest part of the training process for me. I love to eat, for God's sake I'm in the food business. I spend the better part of my days at work staring at warm garlic bread, Alfredo Sauce, pastas & homemade desserts. It's a miracle my waist line remains in the 30's. On top of the temptations at work, I have three kids at home. Our pantry is always stocked with snacks of all sorts. I'm proud to say our fruit drawer is always full of fresh selections, but who wants to come home from a long day at work and eat a room-temperature banana? I just gagged when I re-read that sentence. We all love snacks. Each of us has that go-to item that, when eaten, sends a feeling of calm over our brain and body instantly. To shed my twenty-five pounds, I'm going to have to conquer my cravings for my favorite go-to items. My list is not long, but these items are special. They are always there for me. They don't judge me or talk back to me. They simply satisfy, and I'm a man that likes instant gratification.

1000 Island dressing
This backwoods, redneck-ass dressing tops my list. I love this stuff. It's ketchup, mayonnaise and pickle relish. Does it get any better? I've seen recipes that try and fancy it up, with egg or black olives. I'm here to say, "leave it the hell alone". This condiment is even on my death row final meal menu- that's how important it is to me. I enjoy this tasty morsel in two ways, on a salad or a saltine cracker, nothing else. Now when I say salad, I don't mean fancy, like with Wild Mixed Greens or Romaine. I'm talking chopped head lettuce, nothing else. If I'm feeling spicy, I will add some cracked black pepper. I'm fully aware of how awful this item is for me. I'd be just as good shoveling straight sugar into my mouth, but it's my everything. This is the only item on my list that resides at work, which will make it the most difficult. I stand next to her for the better part of my day, but it must be done. Okay, just one last moment together...A little privacy please...



Newman-O's Hint O'Mint Cookies
Hint O' Diabetes is what they should be called. Now don't get me wrong, this is a great product from a great company. Their products are all organic and they donate all profits. The profits from my purchases alone should have neutered at least 100 dogs. But it is a tricky product, it draws you in with the organic and humanitarian marketing scheme then sets the hook. Next thing you know you're setting your alarm for 2:30 am to sneak downstairs and shove 5-6 of these babies in your mouth. The whole time you're telling yourself it's for charity and their healthy. Organic does mean healthy, right?? Well, organic means one thing to me. I can eat double the amount. This addiction is double-edged, you see, because you can't eat 5 cookies and not wash it down with something. For me, that something is milk. I don't mean skim or 2%, I mean good old whole milk, straight from the carton. If I could drink it straight from the cows udder I would. You can see how bad this combo addiction has gotten. The problem with kicking this item is my kids. They love these cookies. They eat one every night after dinner and have for years. I will now have to sit and watch my precious children enjoy their cookies while I stare and curse them under my breath. Thanks, Newman...



Reese's Peanut Butter Cups Minis
I just discovered these crack nuggets about a month ago. If I ever meet the sick bastard that created this item I would be speechless and confused. Do I kick him in the family jewels or give him a high five and a hug? They have taken the deliciousness of peanut butter and chocolate and made eating it idiot-proof. At least before you had to unwrap them. Now, you just grab a handful and it's party time. This is a mommy and daddy item. We keep them in our special drawer and only pull them out once the kids have gone to bed, it's like our little secret. Snacks like this shouldn't be that easy, if I had to work for it I might decide after a minute or so that I don't need it. But no, just unzip the bag get to eatin'. Five minutes later and I've polished off twenty of these things and my hands and face are covered in melted milk chocolate, damn... I catch myself sniffing the bag before I take a bite. It's like a fine perfume. If they bottled this smell, I would buy my wife a gallon size for X-mas. But it's gotta go. This one might not be as tough as the others because I'm the purchaser of this item. My wife likes them, but she can do without. So I will just remove it from the grocery list. Now, if Raisinets were on this list, my wife would be leaving me. She's addicted, luckily they give me gas.



This will not be easy. I've grown fond of these items. But riding 100 miles and climbing thousands of vertical feet twenty-five pounds lighter will be that much easier. I need to put down these cheap highs and focus on the big picture. This goal is very important to me and I want to give it everything I've got over the next four months. I'm ready. Wait...it's Satruday, you can't start a diet on Saturday, I'll start Monday.

30 miles this morning on mountain bike, chilly but felt great. Hope to see everyone at the crit races on Wednesday night.