We select 5 consecutive stages of the Tour of Italy, ride them in their entirety, just 4 hours ahead of the pros; the same stage, the same route, the same distance, the same conditions.  The only difference is that we will take much longer to get there, hence the earlier departure.  After all, for us it’s not a race, it’s a ride, and we are not pros.  However, that being said, we have to maintain a reasonable pace, or the 4 hrs head start will be erased, and they will beat us to the finish.  We Paceline through the flats and rollers, we regroup at the top of all major climbs (subject to hill specific cut offs), and in general, work as a team for every stage.

There are so many things that are unique about the Giretto, it amazes me that I don’t have a waiting list a mile long to enroll.  I can only surmise that it is still so new that most riders just don’t know about it.  Consequently, I’ve put together the top 10 reasons to ride the Giretto.  Read them, share them, and sign up!

1.            Italy is Cycling Paradise: I can’t count how many times I either said that or thought it during the Giro last year.  Last year it seemed like more than 50% of the roads we cruised on where newly paved; something each town tries to accomplish before the Giro comes through.  Since cycling is such a natural part of their culture (it’s the 2^nd most popular sport next to soccer), vehicle drivers are well accustomed to cyclists, and you get a completely different feel riding there.  In the 7 times I’ve ridden in  Italy, I never remember one time being yelled at from a car, or being forced off the road.  It’s simply magnificent.  The scenery is also breathtaking to say the least, and the food, well – it’s absolutely off the charts.

2.            Cancer Must Be Defeated: Few people have not been either directly or indirectly affected by cancer at some point in their lives.  This year, I’ve multiple family and friends newly attacked by this heinous disease.  Raising money and raising awareness makes this ride something of a higher calling.  If you do a lot of riding, do this little bit – 5 (or 3) hard days for something bigger than yourselves.  Livestrong is making the biggest impact on the fight against cancer in the history of the disease.  How do I know that… well, I have no facts, but with the global army they have inspired, and the money they raise each year, I doubt if ANY disease has had this kind of war waged against it.  Now is your time to get on board, and help us fight the good fight here!

3            A Reason To Train: We have a winter training program at our club in Pittsburgh.  This is a 16 week program that completely transforms each person who dares to enroll.  If the 4.5 hr workout every Saturday isn’t enough, we also track their workouts through the week to make sure they stay “on track”.  One of the requirements of the program is that each person have an event to train for that is “outside their comfort zone”; something they are not quite sure they can do, something that will take a level of commitment and focus they’ve never applied to their riding before.  Believe me, 5 stages of the Giro d’Italia is just such an event.

4.            Self Discover On A Whole New Level: There is something inextricable from training for something “bigger than yourself” – it’s the process of self-discovery that takes your beyond the physical fitness aspects of training.  The Giretto isn’t just a physical challenge.  If you think it is, you don’t “get it”.  This will challenge you emotionally, spiritually, even socially in important ways.  Do you think just working out & riding a lot will get this done.  Unless you are independently wealthy, have no family or friends, and can do just about whatever you want whenever you feel like it, this will challenge and stretch you in multiple ways.  That’s not a bad thing, just know however, that this process does not happen in a vacuum.

5.            Start Your Racing/Riding Season Feeling Like Lance: The two times I went through a training program to prepare for Italy, I came home a different rider.  I remember feeling like I was having an “out-of-body” experience – wondering who was pushing me up the same hills I used to do 20% slower, or in 50% more pain.  The ability to blow apart your own personal records in races, training routes, and with the local club rides is priceless to say the least.  If you do local races, I guarantee you that your results after the Giretto will surpass previous years.

6.            Fantasy Cycling Camp: You’ve heard of the Fantasy sports camps where those with enough $ can play their favorite sport with recently retired pros?  It exists for almost every sport.  While we aren’t riding with the pros, we are almost riding IN their event.  Read my blog post from last year’s Giretto: “Smallest Window, Biggest Opportunity” to get the feel for what I mean.  It was a surreal experience.  The closer we got to the finish line of each stage, more and more people would be out on the streets with their family or business group, tailgating Italian style.  Eager to see the pros, and already waiting for some time, they cheer for you as if you are one of the pros.  More and more roads are closed until you get into the city proper which is lined with barriers, incredible decorations, and hundreds of people in every little “citta” – all excited to see us, the pre-show.  Try to beat that feeling.

7.            Get Professional Training: Everyone who commits to the Giretto d’Italia will receive weekly training plans from Cycling Fusion for 16 weeks, as well as an annual subscription to FitnessJournal.com, where all of their workouts will be logged.   Normally this is a $24/month for 4 months.  In addition, I will personally review or coach every rider who is interested, each week from January to the week before we leave for Italy.  Another savings of $99/month.

8.            Vacation Before or After or Both: The logistics and cost of getting to Italy are such that once you are there, you will want to take some time and see the country.  The ruins of Rome are mind blowing.  The canals and streets of Venice are unforgettable. There are so many reasons to love Italy, but the food has to be up there in the top 3 reasons.  Aside from having access to the best Italian food on the planet, you’ll be able to eat as much as you like – given how much fuel we will need for the consecutive 100+ mile days.

9.            Discover The Secrets of Cycling Fusion: The original idea for the Giretto came about from the desire to prove how powerful indoor training can be for the dedicated outdoor cyclist.  In Pennsylvania, we see cyclists riding in the most brutal and even dangerous conditions outside because, well, the weather can be so lousy that if you don’t ride in bad weather, some years you might not ride at all.  Aside from a steady diet of bad weather, there have also been very few real cycling training centers to offer as an alternative.  Cycling Fusion was founded when Global Ride Training Center opened in the suburbs of Pittsburgh.  The intent was to show how any fitness facility that has Spinning® or Indoor Cycling can also create this type of training, and offer the cycling community something they can relate to, benefit from, and even look forward to each winter.  If you have a trainer for your bike, or somewhere you can take indoor cycling classes, we will provide the information you will need to harness this incredible training.

10.            Make A Memory You Will Never Forget: This will be especially true for couples or two friends who sign up together.  From the 4 ½ months of winter training, to the 5 amazing riding days in Italy, to the self discovery at new levels, you will have a hard time topping this total experience.

After these two behemoth’s in the training DVD business came two new comers to this current trend in indoor training; EpicPlanet and Global Ride. By the middle of 2009, there were as many as 13 virtual cycling DVDs among these 4 companies, and with the release of the first ride from Italy, the total comes to 14. In fact, with the release of this Italy DVD, Global Ride joins both larger companies with a total offering of 4 separate virtual cycling titles.

While these may be the companies targeting cycling training very specifically, it should be noted that the genre of “travelogue” videos has been around since possibly the early days of National Geographic Magazine. Probably one of the oldest ones focused on indoor cycling is Bike-O-Vision (affectionately referred to as “car-o-vision” by some of us in the cycling industry). While not structured for training as much as the companies mentioned in the first paragraph, they do provide more “road to ride”. More recently though, I have also been made aware of a company called America’s Best Bike Rides. The offerings here are somewhere in between the very structured & more difficult workouts of the first four companies, but definitely more training oriented than the travelogues of Bike-O-Vision. The good news in all of this is that there are many options for doing lots of unique indoor rides – literally, all over the world – without the cost and inconvenience of travel.

There are a number of reasons why this approach to indoor training has not been the norm; most notably because they simply haven’t been structured and oriented towards the avid cyclist or indoor cycling / Spinning® class. However, with new titles becoming available with greater frequency each year, it’s likely that we may be on the brink of the “new norm” for cycling training indoors. Cycling Fusion was started because we see the industry on the verge of “Indoor Cycling 2.0″ as John Macgowan from the Indoor Cycle Instructor Podcast puts it. Upgrading tools on the bike is the critical first step in making what we do inside translatable to the outside. Now, if we add virtual cycling and other similar media components, it will all come together to make the experience more compelling, more motivating… hey, maybe even more FUN!?! What could be better than achieving your training objectives, while having a blast doing it.

This time however, was completely different. Doing “portions of stages” is customary for touring groups who cherry pick the most scenic sections, at more “forgiving” distances. Stopping for a hot lunch to break up the day, and riding only a few stages per week, is certainly a lot of fun, and the mountain climbing is still hugely challenging, but it simply can not produce the feelings we got from riding the Giretto.

This not only required a great deal more training and preparation in every facet, but the experience was much more like being part of the race instead of just a spectator. I would venture to say, there is no other race (certainly nothing on the scale of a Grand Tour), that offers an amateur cyclist the feeling of actually being in a professional race like the Giretto has done for our inaugural team.

Typical scene as we enter every little citta'

The Italians are as crazy about cycling and their Giro d’Italia, as the French are about the Tour De France… but the difference is what makes this Giro approachable and inviting for the “total immersion” experience. The Italians are as laid back as the French are uptight. I know I’m making sweeping generalizations, but when one covers over 400 miles, and countless cities big and small in the country, generalizations are indeed in order.

Once the actual routes are made public in the Italian news each year, cities begin to anticipate and prepare for the arrival of the most popular and important cycling event in Italy. Cycling as a sport is second only to soccer nationally, and virtually every city, big and small, has their own local cycling team for local city to city competitions. Youth soccer clubs in the U.S. are matched in numbers by youth cycling clubs in Italy. We saw many groups of young road and MTB cyclists in team kits riding and waiting for the pros to come through as we grinded out our kilometers.

From almost the start of every stage, we were greeted with cheers from spectators, getting their tables, chairs, vino, bread & cheese out and ready for the race – tailgating the Italian way! The closer we got to each destination city, the closer the pros would be coming behind us (closing the time gap we began each day with), and thus the more excited the crowds became. They were ready… had been ready for months, and well, we were the “opening act”. What else do they have to do, but cheer for us, and cheer they did! Did it matter that we were not a part of the official race – not at all. Did it matter that we were not even an “officially sanctioned” event by the Giro organizers – not in the slightest.

The locals embrace cycling in all its forms, and seemed to truly appreciate us riding in formation, and picking up speed through every little town leading to the finish line. While cars and spectators are consistently shuffled off the roads, and even parked cars “taped in” so they can’t be moved, we as a group continued to be given the green light; figuratively and literally.

Imagine the scenes you’ve seen watching the Tour de France on TV, and now put yourself in that scene… on the bike, crowds cheering (maybe not running along side), but at least cheering “Vai! Vai! Forza, Forza! (Go! Go! Come on! Ride Hard!). Imagine flying through towns, decorated to the hilt for the race, giant banners, balloons and home made signs everywhere you look. Imagine the feeling when you’ve started at the same “Partenza” as the pros, and are arriving at the same “Arrivo”. Could there be any other situation that would get you closer to this “pro-like” experience? This only happens for a few hours each year – the day the Giro comes to town, and just a few hours in front of the pros. Of all the riding, indoors and out, and in all the places in the world where I have ridden, none compare to the Giretto. It was the smallest window of opportunity and the biggest experience I’ve had on 2 wheels.

This would however, cost her, as she was not able to eat or even drink without throwing up at the end. She tried to go to dinner with us, but couldn’t manage sitting at the table, and had to be taken back to the hotel. By the time the rest of us finished dinner, she was in an even worse state and we had to call local paramedics. After checking her vitals, they only were permitted one course of action, and that was to take her to the hospital – and being the only somewhat bilingual person in the group, I was the logical one to accompany her. Long story short… she was fine after she got an IV of Glucose, but we did not get back to the hotel till 4:30am (there aren’t too many hospitals high in the Dolomites).

Basically I figured my Giretto was finished at that point. After 8 hrs in the saddle, and the three consecutive 100 mile days, I did not plan on riding with just a few hrs of sleep. I really did not think it possible. Then Nina woke me at 8:30 and told me she was leaving and was going to do everything possible to beat the pros to the finish. The thought of her riding alone didn’t sit well with me (obviously Jennifer would not be able to ride). Her obvious enthusiasm to finish strong gave me a jolt of inspiration, and I decided as long as I can sit on the bike, I was coming too.

I rushed around finding all my gear, getting dressed, and whooofing down just one bowl of cereal before heading out the door. I didn’t want her to know I was coming till I was ready, as I did not want her to wait for me or to be slowed down at all. By the time she got outside the hotel I was also ready and we rolled immediately into the first climb together.

The sun was shining, the mountain road had only an occasional runner and cyclist on it. There were patches of snow through the trees, still giving way to the powers of spring, and the jagged gray peaks of the Dolomites were always in front of us seemingly shouting – YES YOU CAN!!! I knew I made the right decision, even if I felt only partially human. The only thing I can compare it to is how I used to feel after flying the “red eye” from Hawaii to LA – like a veritable Zombie.

But there is a good side effect to this too. It slows you down mentally (as well as physically), and I found myself reflecting about all that we’ve accomplished already and that God has yet again, for the 5th straight day, blessed us with weather to die for. Here I was, about to complete something I was never sure I could do, and doing it with my daughter. She was riding just ahead, and I was prouder than any papa could be. Despite everything, I was incredibly grateful and that sense of gratitude began to fuel my soul first, and that fuel seeped into my legs with every km of fresh climbing.

You’ll see from our gallery of pics early in this stage the views were to die for. It was as if God Himself was stoking the fire within and I found myself climbing faster and faster. I’ve always found road riding to be a time of spiritual retreat and regeneration, and it was happening as it has so many times in the past. By the last 1.5 km, I was flying – going uphill at 25+km/hr. This was the fastest I’ve climbed for the entire trip, and physically it made no sense. With every switchback my speed increased, my legs got stronger, my mind more awake, my heart feeling better and better. I reached the summit nearing 28km/hr (about 15mph). It was one of those rare “out of body” experiences that comes only once every few years. Grazie Dio!!

Nina and I met at the top, where we ran into one of “her kind” – a gentle Gnome from the mountains. He was a kindly gent, and he agreed to posing for a picture with Nina. He made himself look like a statue for the pic, but of course, he was real.

The next section was essentially the reward for all the long hrs, weeks and months of preparation and training, and the miles under us since we arrived in Italy – a 40km rolling descent. It was phenomenal. This was one of the things I wanted Nina to experience the most, since there is really no place in PA to even get close to this; perfect roads, long views ahead so you can “let it go”, smooth banked swithbacks, and killer views the whole time. Once again, we were in Cycling Heaven living the good life!

Having only a bowl of cereal, I needed a quick pit stop before one of the rollers, so we stopped for a quick fuel break. Within minutes Nina had a flat (probably something we picked up when we pulled off the road). We also had to first fix my frame pump since it had somehow gotten packed with pollen to the point that we had to disassemble and clean it before we could use it. We did get it fixed though (both the pump and the tire) and after the short roller we were decending again. I stayed behind her to keep an eye on the tire for a while, and I could see it was going flat again. I had thoroughly checked the inside and outside of the tire, so this was a complete mystery.

We had to stop again, and repeat. The support van was still 20km back, and so we knew now these mechanicals were robbing us of our chance to beat the pelaton to the finish once again.

The van eventually caught us before we finished changing the tire again, and at least we were able to use a floor pump to put air in it. We continued riding basically until the caravan caught us, being forced to hitch a ride to the bottom of the steepest climb at the end in order to make up for the lost time with mechanicals.

As we approached the last 10km, the crowds on the road were so thick and the riders so close, there were police and officials everywhere. We were still not sure we could do these last 10km of climbing. It was incredibly steep, category 1 stuff, and our cumulative fatigue meters were well into the red zone. This was our final monster we had to conquer. Thank God Nina has such a relentless determination, as she would simply not be denied this final climb and she inspired me yet again, to press on till the end. It would be the longest, toughest 10km of the trip. To make matters worse, we had run out of “aqua naturale”, and all we had was “frizzante” – yes… FRIZZY water. There was no time to look for water elsewhere, we had to move, and move quickly, so off we went.

We got just 3 or 4 km in, and we were told by one Italian polizia after another to pull off, as the “professionalisti” were coming. Naturally, we ignored them, and they did nothing (the standard Italian response all week). However, this was closing in on the boarder with Austria, and we ran into our first German policeman. He gave us a loud “SHTUP!!” and waved his little stick with the red dot in our face. He understood Italian, and I argued with him vehemently that we were an “official group” and had to complete the climb, but he continued to only tell us SHTUP, SHTUP!!!!

I saw some switchbacks up through the woods, so I had the great idea to hike a bike straight up and meet up with the road that way… but we had to do it out of sight of the Gestapo. So we found an old logging road just out of his sight, and we started carring our bikes. We went for quite a while but could not see any road anymore, and ended up riding our roadbikes back down through the woods before the pros would arrive, so we wouldn’t miss them. The way I figured it, we got to do some bonus MTB while we were in Italy ☺

We spent the next 20 minutes watching the pros go by for the last time during the Giretto, and my last tweets went out with that final pass. As the last rider passed, and the directional signs were quickly taken down by race officials, our friendly German naysayer moved on, and we could resume our climb. We had just 7K to go, but this would be the hardest climbing of the trip, not only because of a double digit grade in steepness, but also because within a few km, the race above was finished and the mass exodus had begun. Imagine if you will, hundreds of cyclists, official cars (all seemingly frustrated autobahn racers), given both lanes open for their descent (since no vehicles were allowed up the mountain since early in the day). Every inch of the road was taken up by crazy fast descenders, and we are hugging the right guardrail making our climb ever so cautiously. Fortunately for us, a few brave souls are walking down as well, and they are also hugging the same guardrail – they in effect act as our lead blockers; they’ll get taken out before we will.

That final climb was not only steep, dangerous, and mentally draining since my body was crying out for rest, but each minute it seemed to get colder and colder as we got higher and higher. Eventually, the end came, and Nina was there…our Queen of the Mountains, to meet me. Although I was flooded with emotion, by now it was after 5pm, and I had only a bowl of cereal, a banana, and a couple of pop-tarts the entire day. I was both famished and freezing. As luck would have it, they were still selling beer, sausage and fries outside and we tore into them like hungry mountain wolves.

The only thing to do now was to somehow manage a potentially hypothermic descent for 10K back to the van. As I was turning into the iceman, I noticed some big RVs making their way down the mountain. I raced ahead to follow the biggest RV I could see, and stayed close enough to block all the wind during the descent, saving me from another uncontrollable shiver attack. It was a long hard day, but the Giretto just flew past us seemingly at light speed.

We continued to ride through one beautiful little town after another, (see pics of all stages here) with over 50% of the Giro route newly paved just for the event. Between these immaculate roads, clear signage all the way to the finish, and the ability to ride right into town with cheering crowds from about the last 50km to the end, it was like we were in Cycling Heaven!

After about 30km, we stopped at a castle town and Nina noticed that her back wheel was rubbing badly with the break. Our driver wasn’t much of a mechanic (and I’m officially the “anti-wrench”), they went in search of a local bike shop while Jennifer and I went on ahead – trying to keep a better pace than yesterday. Nina eventually rejoined us when we met up with Liza from Cycling Made In Italy. Liza did all the “in country” research for us, and without her our little Giretto would have been in real jeopardy of even happening. She went to check over Nina’s bike, and found one of the spokes in the back completely broken (Liza has some wrenching experience from her touring business). Consequently they had to find a bike shop once again, and so Nina had to jump in the van again to get this corrected before our mountain decents. An untrue wheel at 60km/hr could make a scary situation down right dangerous.

So, as they went in search of 2 wheel Italian expertise once again, we pressed on to the first warmup climb before our two major mountain ascents. This was a nice 2km push up La Rosina, with more mega views of the valley.

Eventually Nina caught up with us again, and we pushed on ahead – trying to get as far through the first climb that we could before the caravan came. We made it about half way up the 14km climb of Croce d’Aune before they came roaring by. This was the day I had Lance Armstrong actually “see” me. I’m pretty sure he still doesn’t even know who we are or what the Giretto even is, but on this day, as he was suffering up the first of two significant mountain passes, I was sitting on the side of the road with my iPhone, ready to shoot the riders as they came within inches of me.

After I took one of my pictures, I was just sitting there looking at the riders and all of sudden, there he was, his wheel within inches of my leg. I uncontrollably shouted “LANCE!” and I think it might have even startled him, as he looked at me with quite a bewildered look – like “What!? Who are you?!?”. That was as close to my dream of a “photo opp” that I would get.

So that was pretty cool, and one of the reasons I wanted to go to the Giro; to watch Lance ride in it. I forgot however, that he suffers too, and he was indeed suffering on that climb. Now I understand why he lost 3 minutes on that day – this was just half way up the first climb, and the second climb was worse.

The final ascent was up to San Martino di Catrozza, a 31 km (18 mile) climb of substantial grade. You can see from the profile below, this was no joke. From our standpoint, we had already put in now over 450km over the last 2.5 days, and we had this ahead of us.

We all made it, but it was one incredible journey. By the time we got there (almost 8pm and getting dark), it was downright cold, and with sweating bodies, we were freezing. To top it off, Nina and I did not see the van parked on the side of the road, and we continued to climb what was actually the start of the next day’s climb. After we put in another km or two of climbing we realized that we had gone too far. We came back down a completely frigid descent and Jennifer and I were extremely cold. In fact, we were both shivering uncontrollably, and had to jump into the shower before we got hypothermic. We simply took too long to get to our destination today. We were our own worst enemies. I’d like to say the story ends there for the day, but this day still had much excitement behind it. Stay tuned for my next post where the saga of that night continued well into the next day and stage.

I advised that she sit out about 30 to 40 “grunge miles” (stuff through industrial or commercial areas that simply exist to get you from one point to another). That way, when we get into the more interesting places, she could start again. At first she wouldn’t agree, and we put in about 70 km all together, since she didn’t want to sit anything out at all. However, she decided to, well, as she puts it “think like a grown up” and give her knee a rest during some of the less interesting riding.

For me, I was feeling a bit of leg fatigue from the first century, but was not pushing it too hard. We got caught by the caravan just before the first of a series of supposedly easy climbs, so it was perfect timing for Nina’s return. Once the caravan went through, we started down the road to our first “little” climb. I could not believe what I saw – at least 18 to 20 percent climb of unknown distance with hundreds of people lining both sides of the streets, and well into the road, with stuff painted on road – just like you see on TV. There was just enough space for maybe one car to get through.

This was 5 to 6 mph stuff, the kind of speed that if you go any slower you’d likely fall over. I’ve only seen 2 or three hills of this steepness in PA near where I live, and PA is known for its climbing. In 6 years of riding in Italy, it was the steepest I’ve seen. First thing I thought of was how would Nina’s knee take this – after so much pain yesterday, some soreness today, and no warm up since she rejoined us. That question was quickly answered as she powered past me and through the crowds ahead.

I was also a bit cooled down from watching the caravan go by and refueling, so I was at threshold or 5 beats below it for the whole climb. Each time I got to a crest it would turn up more or in another direction. I climbed “walls” before, but never one this long. The only thing that kept me on the bike before was the ability to see the top, but now, it seemed to never end. It turns out it was 1.5km long – just under 1 mile. Cars and people both had trouble getting up that hill. This is why we knew we had to give Nina the “polka dot jersey, and call her King of the Mountains (Queen just sounds too weird).

When I got to the top, Nina was waiting on me, and so I asked her how she felt. She said really good; as far as I’m concerned that was a miracle given the pain she had been in. That was surprise #1. But my turn was to come. She asked me how mine was, and it was truly ok – a bit stressed as any would be, but no cramping or pre-cramp feelings.

Then it happened…

Our next section of road were some rollers before a small climb to the finish. As I stood to power up the roller, I felt the right quad begin to cramp. I sat down right away, lowered the gear and tried to spin it out. It responded, and I knew that I was on the edge. I thought I had done everything right; drinking plenty, taking electrolytes, etc – how could this be?? That was surprise #2. Since the caravan had passed, and it took us a while to suffer up that hill, so I knew the pros were not far behind. I used this as an opportunity to let the muscles recover a bit from that wicked climb, and also watch the pros go by.

We found a short cut to eliminate a couple of the climbs since that first one definitely hurt us all, and we wanted to see the pros come in at some point. The timing of our “guestimated” short cut was amazing. As we came through one section of road, we noticed a bunch of cars and people, and we could hear the roar of the helicopter. We saw a man rushing two small kids up to the line of people who were lined on both sides of the road – we had just come up to where they were coming through for the final finish, and we were going to see it! This was surprise #3 – getting to see the pros TWICE in one stage is indeed rare. Each stage has been like an entire trip in itself. We are experiencing new things each and every kilometer. The land, the people, the culture, the architecture, and along the way we are learning things about ourselves, our training, this sport. Now, on to Padova!

We started late as usual; seems like we are a good 1 hr slower than we think we are when it comes to ride preparation each day. After having the van and bike trailer turned away from the start by multiple blockades and polizia, we were finally seconds from riding to the start when Jennifer realized she didn’t have her riding shoes. I saw them sitting in the lobby, but thought she would pick them up before she left. Nina and I moseyed up to the start gate, and after giving the officials a good song and dance about our Giretto, in my very broken Italian, they allowed us to prepare to start inside the gates. I sent a tweet out while we waited for Jennifer to retrieve her shoes and meet us at the start, but Jennifer never showed. After 15 minutes of waiting, we departed anyway, and discovered that she was lost somewhere in Jessolo, and we spent the next 45 minutes trying to hook up. The fantasy of doing the official race start was followed by the frustration of another delay.

Not to worry, the sun was out, we were pumped and we were finally off – but with now just a little more pressure to go just that much faster. We would pass many riders today, but one in particular was pretty curious about us as we pace lined and took our turns at the front. He asked me in Italian how far we were going, and when he learned it was for the entire stage, he offered to pull for us for the next 30km. He kept a 20mph pace, and the help was really nice to have in the headwind we had at the time.

As we went along each city seemed to be decorating more and more for the Giretto. The pink paraphernalia was everywhere. Each city was so excited to have the Giro coming, people were getting ready with their chairs and setups hours in advance. The cycling culture in Italy is amazing. I assume it was because we were all in “team kits” (matching shorts and riding jerseys) and working a tight paceline, but for whatever reason, we were getting little “cheers” here and there by just about anyone; from 9 yr old kids to 89 year old nonas (grandmas). It was just a little more fantasty for the day, and quite encouraging. They knew of course that it was too early for us to be part of the race, but they cheered anyway.

It was a little less than 100km when Nina’s knee started to really hurt. It seems that the advil she took prior to departure was masking the pain, but her knee was not right. In fact, the pain continued to increase to the point where we had to stop and experiment with different set up positions and slow our speed. Nina had trained HARD for months with no injuries or sickness, and now this – very frustrating indeed! Just as our spirits were beginning to sink we came across a huge group of fans, most of which were kids seemingly together from the same school or something. As we road through the center of their town, they started cheering in advance of our arrival, pushing us to go faster and pump our fists as we passed. They cheered for us as if we were the pros themselves. It would be the happiest moment of the day for all of three of us – a fantasy so very cool!

As we got closer to the destination city of Trieste, the crowds were starting to form on the sides of the road, and our cheers became just a bit more frequent, but while Nina’s spirit was buoyed, her knee was not. Her pain continued in earnest, and we broke out the advil for another dose. We reduces our speed, and we increased our frustration as we started to enter Trieste. Yes we made it to the destination city, but doing multiple loops was now not likely with the pain she was in. Nevertheless, we were treated to an unexpected fantasy that topped all others for the day.

Trieste is a big Italian city, and they had already closed every street that would was to be used for the Giro. We entered the “shoot” of the final streatch first as we began our first loop – with the barricades and fans thick on both sides. We were at the back of the sponsor vans and it looked as though they were leading us in. The sponsor vans pulled to the side and we zoomed past them. The crowd response was fantastic. The sponsors then pulled off the course, and we continued on the first loop around the city.

Each km we rode became more empty of traffic, and more present with police and fans. The last portion of the loop was just after a significant climb, with switchback turns down a steep descent to the city. The police at the top of the descent asked me if I was going to stop (in Italian), I told him yes, and proceeded even faster down the hill. I figured that he was not going to chase me, so as soon as I was to the bottom, I started pushing the big gears. I was clocking 48km/hr as I flew through completely empty streets, with police and officials at every intersection, manually turning every traffic light green for me, and fans lined on each side wondering if I was some sort of early break. For me, I was riding in the Giro d’Italia for REAL! My heart rate was at threshold for those final few km and It was the most incredible and surreal feeling on a bike that I have ever had. For me, if nothing else happens at the Giro, this was worth the entire trip.

The puffy clouds of the pre-race vacation day however, gave way to the overcast sky of disappointment, when we rode our bikes to the ferry port. To our surprise, they were not permitting any bikes on the island (the Team Time Trial was set on the island of Lido off the coast of Venice) during the Giro. Despite our driver’s best arguing Italian style, and the ladies best poses for the young gate attendants, there was no getting by.

Since our B&B was relatively close to the ferry point, we rode our bikes there instead of driving, and thus we got our needed miles in for that day, but they simply weren’t the same. We so wanted to do our own TTT – but it was not to be. Chalk it up to some poor pre-race intelligence, and next time we will look further into the details underneath the details.

Serindipity smiled on us however, while we were in Lido, converting disappointment to destiny…maybe. Upon arriving in Lido, our driver wanted to walk along the course to the start of the stage, but we were drawn helplessly to music and the thump thump of high energy coming from a different direction. We headed that way and saw a huge indoor cycling class being conducted outside (just bring the stationary bikes outside and there you have it) with about 50 riders. They had a unique combination of electronic and live music pounding out from the stage where 4 instructors were leading the group. The “capitano” was taking them on a virtual time trial, and the class was SO into it. With all of us being indoor cycling instructors, it was fun to watch.

I was curious enough to get contact info from the organizers of the event – who knows where that will lead. Next on the agenda was to hook up with Liza from Cycling Made In Italy. She did a fantastic job with our Italy arrangements – all for free in support of the Giretto, so we were happy to visit with her for a while.

From there we were able to stake out some fantastic locations for super close action photos and video – some of which we tweeted, and others we will be posting later. When the stage was over, we headed back to the ferries so we could leave for Jessolo; the start of our next stage. We mistakenly got on the wrong ferry, which happened to be for team personnel only. It was bigger, less crowded, and we saw a few pros on the ride back.

But the most amazing thing happened as we were disembarking the ferry. Jennifer said “We should try and meet Liz Kreutz while we are here”. At that very moment, Liz was walking off the boat as well and said “I’m Liz!”. It was the most amazing coincidence… or was it destiny?!? She did know what the Giretto was, and we are sure that Lance has never heard of it either. So we have sent her a few direct tweets since then. Since she has this in her Twitter profile: “Sports photographer documenting Lance Armstrong’s comeback to cycling to raise cancer awareness”, we are thinking she could put some of that photography skill, and “cancer awareness” documenting to good use by having Lance do a photo op with the Giretto riders! Seems only logical right!?!

Well, it’s after 1am, and I shouldn’t have stayed up to write this, but I was excited to have an internet connection finally, and wanted to get all the non-twitter folks some news. Tomorrow will be our first 100+ miles… ready, set, GIRO!