A president offers a state of the union and I’m here to offer a state of how things are going so far this spring. On paper, going to Costa Rica for a week and then heading to California for Mill District events over the next three weeks sounds like an ideal preparation for the season ahead. While basking in warm temperatures in these two places, every time we’d look at weather or hear stories from the Vermont home front, it involved the words mud, rain, snow, sleet, and cold.

Vermont is just now coming out of its winter slumber with things turning a bright green and buds and flowers everywhere, and it’s only now that I’m only now coming out of the slumber myself.

Looking back for a quick sec’, Costa Rican riding was terrific. It was new and exciting and entirely different from anything I’ve ridden before. The final day there I didn’t feel amazing. My stomach was rumbling and bothered me through the day, but the next day, traveling back to the United States, I felt okay again and therefore figured that I was in the clear. That turned out not to be the case because once I landed stateside I spent the next two days in the fetal position with frequent visits to the bathroom. I talked to a few of my travel companions once we all got home and they were suffering similar woes — specifically, catching something at the tail end of the trip and only suffering the consequences once we returned home.

Keeping those details to a minimum, food poisoning was the first punch to the gut to derail my spring. And no matter how much one might be optimistic that those symptoms are short lived, maybe not feeling well for just a day or two later, I was still feeling lethargic more than a week later. It’s amazing how dehydration takes its toll, no matter how much you drink. It’s a hollow emptiness that’s felt head to toe.

So call it a rest week and move forward, right? Soak in that Californian sunshine and rainbows and come back stronger, yeah? Close but not quite.

I’ve never suffered from allergies, which says a lot because the pollen in North America is different from that of Europe and so many of my North American colleagues would suffer like dogs from European allergies all throughout the spring while I was breathing fresh, clean air. So when I found I could hardly breathe there in California, I first thought I had a bout of allergies. No big deal. As the days went on, the breathing only got worse and for days on end I was feverish (…fever’y? Had a fever? However you say it, I felt like garbage for another two weeks!). I never tested positive for Covid during this time, the rest of my family never got sick, so take all of this with a grain of salt, but I wouldn’t be surprised at all if I had Covid here.

I’m in a different point in my career than some of these young bucks toeing the line of the Life Time Grand Prix. There are plenty of guys and gals in their young 20s, at the peak of their fitness, and looking at these races with saucer sized eyes. Some other part of their sport or career has ebbed — maybe road racing or mountain bike racing hasn’t gone as planned — meanwhile this advent of gravel is seeming to flow in the biggest of ways.

The point being, feeling ill for nearly a month is a) something I’ve never experienced before and b) something that could derail a young rider mentally so that their entire season is a wash. I’m lucky in that I’m drinking from the firehose of life and therefore have so much other stuff going on independent from purely racing, training, and results, that it doesn’t really affect me at all.

That isn’t boasting, it’s a statement of fact. Life is too busy to be down on yourself. I’ve had plenty of time to be sorry for myself after shattering my elbow. Without a doubt that’s been the biggest physical setback I’ve ever had in my life and it’s one that’ll plague me for years. Maybe it’s especially with a child or maybe through the perspective of my dad who suffered a stroke 19 years ago, life keeps on trucking so there’s no need to spend too much time on Pity Lane.

This past weekend was Rasputitsa. A race renowned for its filthy New England weather in spring, it’s just as likely to be snowing in late April as it is sunny and warm. We didn’t have either of those conditions on race day, we had dry, sunny, cold, and windy. And it was terrific.

Rasputitsa is a long running event. OG gravel, as it were. Once upon a time, I came home from Paris Roubaix, I want to say that was about 2014, and raced this New England classic for my first time. It was also the first of my DIYgravel events at the start of the pandemic when we were locked in at home. Check it out here if you’re interested…

I’ve been back again and again and among other things, it’s shown me just how strong a 15 year old Magnus Sheffield is! Fast forward to the present, and 19 year old Magnus is winning races at the World Tour level. It’s mind boggling.

To conclude the state of the spring, Rasputitsa was the first time I’ve felt my body do what I ask of it in a very long time. It wasn’t perfect, but I felt like I could push when I needed to push, go up the never ending hills of northern Vermont at a pace I was happy with, and then had some gas in the tank at the end. It was as much a checkmark of things going in the right direction as it was an awesome day and wonderful event.

Onward, upward, and off to the next one, Gravel Locos 150 in Hico, Texas next weekend!