Chapter 12

The next couple of days were a complete and total blur, and to be honest, it made me feel even more alive than I had in months. First, a delivery truck from Trek showed up with four new bikes for me: three road frames and a time trial bike. And they were top of the line rigs! No expense was being spared it appeared, and the old gravy train seemed to be in full swing as is often the case when ‘The Boss’ is involved. It even looked like the ‘skunk works’ known as “F-1” to the outside world was also in full swing as these bikes had that one-of-a-kind look and feel. I could only imagine what Lance’s rigs were like if my frames were this well-made.

Next came the uniform fittings, and again there were both training and team wear that arrived only a few days later from Nike. I had four new helmets and two new pairs of cycling shoes to boot! The folks at Nike still had my measurements from the old days, and everything still fit as well as I remembered. In a way, this was another good sign that I hadn’t become an ‘old guy who gets fat in winter’ racer yet! Suddenly, the side of the garage that was normally reserved for my bikes had gotten a lot too crowded! I had to move some of my older frames into storage just to find a home for the new rigs. And they were flat out beautiful. Three brand new Madone 6.9 Professionals painted in the Stars and Stripes theme that I’m sure a committee of designers had spent hours, if not days, perfecting for this last drive for the gold. And then there was my time trial frame ... my God in heaven what a sight! A brand-new Equinox 9.9 SSL with the disc rear wheel and the tri-spoke carbon fiber front wheel (and spares just in case) also painted in the Stars and Stripes theme. Hell, each frame had my name and a small American flag hand painted on them next to the down tube, just like in the old days ... and it brought back some great memories!

So, now I had the tools of the trade again, but did I still have what it takes to compete at that elite level? This seemed to be the question that hovered in the back of my mind as I started to ratchet up my training. For once, the weather even cooperated, and I had clear, but cool, crisp spring days to train in. And train I did ... like a man possessed, which I guess I am now that I had a mission again, making the Olympic team and helping the boss win the ultimate, and for now truly illusive, bling of all times: Olympic gold!

We met in Austin, in the glorious republic of Texas, a couple of weeks later, in early May, and rode all the old haunts. There were four of us on the squad: Lance, George, Christian and little ol’ me. I had to pinch myself a couple of times just to prove it wasn’t a dream! Johan was there to kick us over, and as much of the support team from the old Postal days were there as well. Hell, even the Belgians had somehow found their way to Austin and all stood around doing the whole huff shrug thing that only large Belgians can do. It felt so much like those golden days on the pro cycling tour that I never wanted it to end. We had between now and the end of July to pull out all the stops and get ready for Beijing on August 8th.

What with the whole déjà vu thing I was feeling, and how right it all felt to be back in the saddle, it didn’t come as much of a surprise that camp started off just like all the other camps I had been to while still a pro on the tour ... fitness screening and doping control! Sigh ... The vampires were back in my life! I had forgotten how much I hated the whole pee in the cup and blood-letting thing until I had to go to the control booth and ‘give a sample... ‘ ... oh well, it was for a good cause, right? Thank goodness I didn’t even take prescription meds, let alone any recreational drugs! I had nothing to fear, or, so I thought...