So this happened yesterday...

Saturday was an awesome day to be on the bike. I had the pleasure of riding with a choice few of my fellow Evolution teammates. As advertised, it was pretty much a 'Real' zone 2 ride, for real. In my opinion, that's where we should be riding in December. Let the measuring contests and the ego efforts  dominate later in the training season, not in December! In my world, the saying goes 'hero in December, zero in June'. I dunno, maybe I've got it all wrong but Saturdays ride was just right for me.

With about 20 minutes left in the ride, we were more or less single file on Loudoun County Parkway, rolling along around 25-27mph (based on reports I've heard). I remember seeing the rider in front of me swerve to the right; I was already to the right to I assumed I was ok. Then I wasn't. It happened in a split second. My bike abruptly stopped, throwing me off the saddle onto the top-tube. For a second I thought I was going to save it but then I was flying to the left, still attached to my bike. I remember the feeling of my face hitting asphalt, my head hitting the ground and then my shoulder finally stopping the movement.

I did not lose consciousness but I was definitely in shock. I couldn't really see straight and I just wanted to go to sleep. My teammates were there before I opened my eyes. I don't remember the sequence of events - I knew it was bad when I heard someone calling 911. I remember Tania saying she hit a piece of wood, someone asking for The Boy's number, I think Brian noticed that I had a Road ID and asked if it was the interactive version. I heard Chaz leaving a message for The Boy, I heard a lady talking to my teammates, I think she gave someone her card in case we needed to get back in touch. I was shivering, so cold. Someone laid (what I later found out was a shirt) over me.I don't remember who took off my helmet but I do remember hearing that it was a miracle that my glasses were unscathed. At some point someone took off my shoes.

The ambulance was there quickly, I heard the sirens coming. According to team reports, several vehicles stopped and the woman I heard was blocking traffic for us. The EMTs kept asking my name and my birthdate. I heard teammates already making arrangements for my bike and my car. I just wanted to go to sleep. They rolled me onto the backboard and pushed me into the ambulance. It took them forever to get moving, they kept asking questions but I was having trouble speaking (probably something to do with the fantastic swollen lip I was sporting).

The ambulance ride wasn't long but I swear they hit every pothole on the way. The EMT tried to push an IV but after several tries she old me I have 'bad veins'. I distinctly recall mumbling "don't judge" after her comment. They asked me what hurt and i was too out of it to shoot back "what doesn't" ... they cut my jersey to get a look at my shoulder when I pointed to it. And I didn't care.

The Boy was out riding and doesn't answer numbers he doesn't recognize. I apparently told someone this fact before I got in the ambulance but I don't remember it. That set off another chain of events to try to get someone in contact with him.

I had a teammate at the hospital before I got there. Thank you, Jeff, I can't tell you how much it meant to see a friendly face as I was starting to come around and take in what was happening. Tania had the wonderful foresight to grab my race bag and purse out of my car and drop it at the hospital. I was shivering like I was naked in the arctic so they kept throwing more and more blankets on me.

The nurses took a long time cleaning all the blood off my face. They pumped me full of morphine and ordered X-rays. A woman came in to stitch the gash over my left eye - I made a comment about her being the best since this IS my face and she declared that she loved to sew. X-rays came next and she wanted me to stand for them. They ordered for my shoulder, my chest and my eye. I stood for the first and nearly passed out. The X-ray tech declared, oh I see the problem. I thought "sigh, there's a real problem". She showed me where the plate in my collarbone held up but the piece of bone at the end looked like it had fractured - very faint but need to see an ortho.

Me and my cool nurse

Then it was the waiting ... By now I was starving, the morphine was wearing off and I felt pretty gross. I always say "chamois time is not saddle time" and by now I was hitting all-time records for chamois time. Plus, after a decent 3+ hour ride and then sitting in sweaty, clammy bike clothes (and no, the piece that was ripped off my arse did not provide ventilation), I'm sure I was smelling like roses.

The Boy arrived, quite stressed after getting bits of info but not knowing the full story. My nurse came back, said the obligatory nice things about how much better I looked but still took pity on me and sent me off with my first dose of Percocet and a goodie bag of supplies to get me started. The Boy had the joyous task of washing wounds, doing a sponge bath (and not the sexy kind), and trying to forage food. He did a splendid job, especially given the circumstances.

Jeff and Phil returned my car and bike today. Thank you both, it was an extra effort and very much appreciated. I saw my helmet for the first time. To quote Jeff, who has seen many a mangled helmet "This was the most damage done to a helmet that I've seen" ...apologies if I misquoted but you get the drift.

 Thank you to each one of my teammates on that ride: Brian, Chaz, Phil, Tania, Dave, David, Rick, Tods...please forgive me if I missed someone; I did just recently hit my head. You were all there and you all played a part in helping a fallen teammate and friend. I can't tell you how much that means but I'm going to say thank you for now and offer up a nice dinner together when I am healed up.

Let me say this - and I will say it again with every post regarding this injury and the recovery to come:

Wear your god-damn helmet. I won't be a drama queen and say it saved my life but it definitely saved my noggin from much more severe damage, possibly debilitating or fatal.

Get a Road ID or carry easily accessible info at all times. If I had been alone and on the pavement, at least they know my name and up to 3 contact numbers.

Now...recovery begins.

TGIF - 7/26/13

This past weekend I decided to skip Lost River and collect myself after Coppi. I haven't raced Coppi since ... maybe 2008? And I remembered why about halfway through the race. The course doesn't seem overly hard but it's a doozy.

I was there early to hang out in the feedzone with the likes of Katy and Kat - both of whom are formidable road racers so I knew it was going to be a long day. As I watched the guys finish up, I wasn't feeling any better about it; most of them looked like death. The clouds were parting and temps were rising - definitely a long day ahead.

As I'm pulling myself together I realize that I forgot my race wheels. The boy had laid the bag against my bike so I'd have to see them - and I did, as I moved them out of the way to carry my bike out to the car. Thankfully, he was finished with his race wheels so we quickly made the change and I was on my way. The 1-2-3s were racing with the 4s but scored separately, so it made for a decent size field, given the time of year and the difficulty of the race.

We got underway after a neutral-ish roll out and commenced with small accelerations but nothing super hard. ABRT had the most riders in the field, as usual, and we all knew it was a waiting game to see who went first (and who countered). The attacks started and the field shrank but Kelley and I both held on and made it through to the rather civilized climb to finish the first lap. As soon as we made the first right turn, it was on for reals. One after another, attack, counter attack. It's a simple and effective strategy if you've got the bullets to spend. I followed one, got brought back, recovered, followed another ...(repeat a couple times) until we hit the dreaded stair-stepper, where ABRT attacked again and I just couldn't follow. I was summarily dropped and considered soft pedaling in. But no, I could still see the pack ahead of me and Kelley was up there so I went into "rabbit/greyhound" mode - chase what's moving in front of me. I made it up to one group of riders and we slowly clawed our way up to what was left of the pack after it split. Kelley was in that pack and I was happy to see a friendly face. I had recovered a bit by then and I started pushing the pace. A cat4 kept jumping, trying to break free, and I kept jumping with her as the 2 ABRTs in the group would bring us back. I didn't understand - the main pack was in view, we could do this!

I proceeded to question WHY - why won't they let us go? It's a Cat4 and me. Let us dangle out there, let us drag you up. The 2 ABRTs with us had been given the direction that they were to ride slow and keep anyone from rejoining. Really? If I went, killed myself to get up to the pack and brought them up to their teammates, wouldn't that make more strategic sense for them (not necessarily for me!) I tried to explain this to them in vain. They did wind up letting a Cat 4 slip off the front but refused to let me race. By this time we had whittled down to 4 - two cat 1/2/3 and two cat 4s. One ABRT in each category. Why the Cat4 ABRT let another Cat 4 off, I'll never understand.

So, I sat on. I surfed wheels, let ABRT pull me around and refused to pull through. Coming through to the bell lap, it was something close to a cookie ride. I looked around and realized we had dropped one of the ABRT riders so we were down to 3- ABRT, NCVC and me. I still let the ABRT drag us around and we picked up a Kenda rider - she was obviously suffering but rallied to catch the train as we came through.

We kept a decent pace through the rest of the lap. I couldn't do anything but wait for the finish. Quote of the day was something to the effect of "Oh God, there it is" ... as the finishing hill came into view. We all giggled in commiseration. I practiced a sprint up the hill - I was actually trying but it had to have looked ridiculious. One of these days, I'll figure out how to be graceful on the bike. Maybe.

I need someone to explain to me why the strongest team in the race (and in the district right now) with the most riders in the peloton (most races) would need to instruct their racers to ride negatively. We could have made it a race and had some fun doing it. In my opinion, they would have done better to get back up to the pack to help their riders do something else. The apparent global thought is that if you have a teammate up the road, your race is over. That's nonsensical - the teammate up the road was alone with several other riders of different teams. Bringing 2 of their team and one of another team (lets face it, I'm not setting the roads on fire right now) would have helped the numbers, if anything. 

Someone explain the logic because I'm clearly missing something here. 

Commentary, a couple of race reports and some pictures.

So, it's been a while. I have plenty of excuses but the bottom line is I wasn't inspired to write. I know, and I suspect my readers can tell, when I'm forcing it - the end result is informative but not especially interesting.

It is very frustrating when I actually open up and question my own preconceived notions out loud, as it were, only to hear gossip going around with whatever hurtful or downright bitchy comments that can be made. In the future, talk to me - shoot me a msg, post a comment - whatever. Have some pride and have an adult conversation.

Enough about the negative. A big, huge, I-couldn't possibly-explain-how-much-it-means-to-me thank you to those who have expressed concern and/or commiseration, offered an ear or shoulder, put up with me being debbie-downer, given advice or simply encouraged me to keep on keeping on. 

In the infamous words of Forrest Gump "and that's all I have to say about that".




Onward. Reston was a rainout for us ladies - simply survival. Several girls (arguably smarter than the rest of us) either didn't start or exited early. The wrecks started on the second or third lap and even in the small, single file groups, people slid out on random corners. Even the steadiest wheels fell victim and, to be honest, I was happy just to stay upright. I believe I'm a contender in the "funniest face" contest with this shot from Dom Boonen.

Not my best side - Photo Credit: Dom Boonen

Teammates Dana, Kelley, Christine and I all succeeded in staying upright and finishing the race no worse for the wear (except maybe emotional scars). Of course, the sun came out with about 5-to go and the rest of the fields had dry, sunny and, as the day wore on, hella hot conditions. I did get a rocking tan from marshaling - only on my back and shoulders. You know, to even out the awesome bike tan lines on my arms and legs. My masseur is going to crack up when I go in later this week.

Overall, I'm glad I did the race not just because I stayed upright, but because we just received word that Reston Town Center will not be hosting us in 2014. Very sad - it's a great race, in a masochistic way, and a classic in our district. We (Evolution Cycling Club) are looking for a new venue as I type, one of similar feel and status for the new and improved race in 2014. Ping me if you have ideas!

Next up: Adventures for the Cure Road Warrior race. This was a new event on fabulous roads in my old stomping grounds. I know these roads well, as I cut my racing/training teeth on them a long, long time ago. Hold your tongue, it wasn't that long ago. Anyway, given my mental and fitness issues, I didn't expect much and got less. Dana had a great day, finishing with the chasing group (chasing Katy - oh, what, you're not surprised?!). I held on well until I didn't and pulled myself with one lap to go in order to spare the moto's and officials from having to search for me when I keeled over in the woods. 'Nuff said. (I have to say, I'm rather pleased with how un-rambling this race report is).

This past weekend - Hagerstown Crit, the Sr. Championship race. Attendance was low, ostensibly due to the holiday weekend, but our field was strong. Evo strong - we had 6 in the race (to include the Cat 3s that were racing with the 1/2s but scored separately). I went into this with (finally) a different mindset - I wasn't going to just ride to survive. I was going to play, dammit. If I blow up, I blow up but if all worked out, my teammates could capitalize on the effort.

this side is a bit better

We went into the race with a plan and we executed. It was FUN. We played, we controlled the tone of the race and ... we were racing, not just rolling around, waiting for a sprint finish. There were some hard efforts as we tried to wear down the pack and get someone away. With about 10 to go, I was off the front and something happened in the pack - two girls went down really hard on the 120 turn and one of our Evo's took a softer dive to avoid the melee. I was caught and heard about the crash while recovering in the pack. We did a lap (slow around that turn as the EMTs cleared the riders off the road) and launched another Evo attack at the top of the hill. Despite a nice gap, they were just letting it dangle -the pack caught up and suddenly got the 2-to-go call. They shortened the race by 6 laps to get the ambulance on the course. Unfortunately, we were all caught out of position for the final hectic scramble. Kelley pulled out nice effort to make up ground for 4th, I finished 5th, Dana 6th and Christine 8th (all in the 1/2 field). Tania and Gwenn finished 3rd and 5th, respectively in the Cat 3 field. While we didn't get the top spot on the podium, I'm proud of the teamwork and good, solid racing by our squad.

Can't wait to do it again.

Tania, Dana, Gwenn, Kelley and me - missing from photo: Christine- I think we did capture her car (on the left side)         Photo Credit: Claudia

The Big Show

Philly. Otherwise known as (depending on your generation) CoreStates USPRO Cycling Championships, First Union USPRO Cycling Championships, Wachovia USPRO Cycling Championships, Philadelphia International Championship, Liberty Classic and, this year, the Parx Casino Philly Cycling Classic.

The race dates back to 1985 - when I was sporting my sister's yellow banana-seat huffy on the neighborhood streets. My history with the race started in 2009, when my former team was accepted into the race. Unfortunately, a mishap at Tour of Somerville relegated me to the caravan in the team car for the big event. While it looked super hard and super hot and the girls were killing themselves out there - I still wanted to post up in the big show. Yeah, we're masochistic like that.

Fast forward a few years - an ugly crash, a couple years out of racing and a "comeback" season in masters racing. Out of the blue, Kelley and I were asked to guest-ride with Riptide Cyclng/Team EPS p/b Shebell & Shebell. This was an amazing and unexpected surprise. I guess surprises are usually unexpected but you get my point.

I drove up to Kelley's place early on Saturday. Traffic at that time in the morning was a breeze, mostly because the people smarter than me are still asleep. As soon as I pulled into her neighborhood, my "service engine soon" light came on. Sigh. Then I get out of the car to realize that my remote key lock doesn't work. Double sigh. I hate when things don't work.

Some of the other girls arrived -introductions were made and immediate logistics were discussed as we pulled ourselves together to check out the course and open up the legs after the drive. We were 20mins out when Kelley's phone started ringing off the hook with registration issues. We turned around to high-tail it back to get to race HQ. Just as we were getting to the house, we got a call saying we didn't need to go to HQ. We turned around again to head to Lemon Hill. We got up the hill and ... one of the girls had a flat. She was riding deep dish rims and we didn't have a tube with a long valve - not for lack of effort, though - two tubes and 3 CO2's later Kelley and I did a TT back to her house to pick up a car to grab the girls we left on Lemon Hill.Then we had to get my car to the BMW dealer to find out what was wrong and whether I could go home.

I'm exhausted just writing about it.

Speaking of valves, the BMW dealer said I had a faulty hooter valve. I interrupted to say "ok, now you're just making stuff up". He appreciated my sense of humor but proceeded to tell me why it's called a hooter valve. Apparently it "hoots" during a diagnostics test when it goes bad. I digress. FINALLY, we got back to Kelley's where another guest rider (Stephanie) arrived with her husband (Jon) after a marathon drive down to Philly. They returned after a quick ride to de-stress and Ken, another of the Riptide Cycling crew, arrived to affix transponders and frame numbers on bikes. Jon, a bike mechanic by trade, was awesome and helped all of us with various bike adjustments.

Dinner was at a phenomenal place named Winnie's, right down the hill from home-base. A fabulous Salmon Nicoise dinner later, I was about done for the day. We shared rooms at race HQ (Thank you, Riptide Cycling/Team EPS!) so we retired there for a good night's sleep. Of course, not many of us really slept and the alarm went off early for the 830 start time.

Race day. A quick warm up in Kelley's parking lot after a quick breakfast and we were off. Luckily, registration was only a block or two away. We arrived when it opened to register the team. Then, we wait. I loved seeing some friendly faces in the crowd - clearly surprised to see me there as I hadn't really made it public that it might even be a possibility. See my prior post about not claiming goals out-loud. Lineup was supposed to be at 815 but teams were already at the line at 805 - I learned *some* lessons from Speed Week and knew I didn't want to start at the back. I inched up every chance I had and wound up in a decent position. Then, we wait again. The start line was at the top of the "Wall" so we couldn't even relax on the bike - we would have rolled backward. FINALLY, call ups came along and girls shuffled through the pack to get the front line. Then, music got louder and whistles blew and before I knew it, we were descending off the wall into the first right turn. I distinctly remember thinking to myself - holy crap .... this is really happening!!

The pace was hard but steady and I was working on moving my way around in the pack. Pick up a spot or two, find an opening and stick myself in it, stay away from squirrely wheels ... I have to admit I was fairly happy with myself. After the descent, we had a few ups and downs until we got on the flat of Kelly drive. The race promoters had cones on the center line (the course went both ways on that road) which caused some near misses as you couldn't see the cones unelss you were in the front. There was some melee behind me but I don't know if it was an actual incident - I never looked back.

We made our way up Lemon Hill and I played the rope-game - start near the front and try to grab onto wheels if (when) I drift back. I'm happy to say that I survived the climb and was rewarded with a fun downhill into a semi-tight right turn back onto Kelly drive.The pace slowed a tick and, with the cones removed (thank you, race promoter), we essentially had 4 lanes to maneuver. I was getting squeezed in the middle so I drifted back to run up the right side. Then - it happened. Again, I don't know WHAT, but I heard bikes and bodies colliding diagonal and on the left ahead of me. This happened in the top 20ish riders. I was near the front but off to the right so as bikes slid right, I was just ahead of the melee. For once in my racing career, I managed to be in the RIGHT place at the RIGHT time.

The wreck was like an explosion in the pack. I stood up to catch on to those that were ahead of the crash and saw Stephanie ahead making a huge effort to get on as well. I finally made contact after chasing what was left and tried to catch my breath - timing was impeccable (note: heavy sarcasm) as we made the right turn into the cobbles and the quick left to start the legendary climb up "The Wall". I was ok at my pace but these girls had no interest in slowing down for me. I became unhinged right before the top and chased down hill. Another group came by me and some friendlies encouraged me to latch on. I just couldn't hold a wheel (sound familiar to my speed week report?). I lost them and continued to chase - the wind was ... wow. Good time trial practice, I suppose. Some more riders came up - clearly having been in the crash. The entire Fearless Femme (FF) squad was caught up in the wreck and those able to ride were killing it to catch up. I sat on another friendly (Thanks Erin!) for a half minute before being dropped. Up Lemon Hill and back down Kelly Drive and another FF motioned for me to get off the right side of the road - I was clearly in deficit as I didn't realize I was on the wrong side of the road. I saw Kelley going by the other direction and was relieved that she was not part of the carnage.

Philly 2013 Post-race

I held on to the FF and gave her everything I had - short pulls to give her a second of rest. When I told her I couldn't do more, she said anything was good and thanked me for the short respite. I think she was just being nice because I can't believe I did anything but slow her down.

Finally went through the cobbles again and started the climb up the wall. I hoped they wouldn't pull me yet, another lap wouldn't have killed me. Going up the wall is painful and amazing at the same time. Cowbells are ringing, people are shouting encouragement and yelling your name. The sheer volume is worth a few more watts, another pedal turn. Billy, SuperDave, Stokely, Ted, Greg, the awesome volunteers out in the middle of the road shouting at you to go- you've got it- go get it. Other girls coming up with me telling me to keep going. It was like everything going too fast but in slow motion. I know that makes no sense but words can't describe the scene.

I rounded the turn to the top where the Start/Finish line was and saw the official in the middle of the road. I nodded my understanding and pulled off at the corner. Team director Teresa was there and gave me the lowdown on the damage- the 3 team riders on EPS had been caught up in the crash. Two were out of the race and another was still in, just making time. Stephanie was in the 2nd group on the road, Kelley was coming up behind me. Then I heard that Alexis, she of NCVC, she who has really become a rockstar this year, broke her collarbone pretty badly. I was very sad for her. I saw ABRT in one of the chase groups the next go round and another ABRT a little ways off in a smaller group. Very proud of our local contingent. Remember, these are the PRO'S - national champions, USACRITS leaders, Fearless Femme, Colavita - the superstars of women's racing. And I got to play for a lap or two with them while some other locals were able to stay in longer and really represent themselves, their teams and the district.

I can now say I raced Philly. Given my difficulties this season, I'm ok with the result. I want to go back and I want to do better - hopefully that opportunity will present itself next year.

Back to the Drawing Board

I began the 2013 race season in October when I declared 2012 a relative success after two years off and upped the ante to include Speed Week as my main goal for the 2013 season. It's tough for me to actually vocalize goals for fear of failure and subsequent embarrassment. Someday I hope to mature enough to accept the odds that we'll probably fail more than we'll succeed in this life and, well, stuff happens. In the meantime, I keep most of my goals in my head without ever breathing a word out loud.

So, off-season training started in earnest and I had the benefit of 2 weeks in between jobs to train like a pro. Things were right on track. I was having fun on group rides and playing with some of the boys. THIS was what I was looking for- to feel fast again, to be able to play again. Then something strange happened - strange because I wasn't expecting it, though in hindsight it makes complete sense. I had trouble hanging with the "B" ride at Camp. I couldn't hold on to the masters guys as long as the other girls did at Morgantown. I had trouble at Black Hills (though that was somewhat due to a crash right in front of me). I got dropped at Jeff Cup after the neutralization. I couldn't go with the final lap accelerations in local circuit races. I couldn't hold the wheels on training rides that I was holding two months ago.

Speed week was coming up and I was a bit panicked. I was assured and re-assured that it will come, it will come quickly and I'll be playing again in no time. Off I went to the week of racing with the big girls. Believe me, I knew I was not a pro, nor did I expect to compete with those super-fast-girls. I just wanted to be able to race, to be able to hold wheels and get in the speed work that I knew came with that kind of racing. I'd come back FLYING after that!

Day 1 started with Tour de Moore - a fantastic course and a huge payout for the women - thank you for that!! Once again, I was fine during the race but the final acceleration left me behind. On to Roswell- the first race with the big-girls. Pouring rain and I was timid in corners on painted lines. Stayed in about 20mins or so before being pulled. I was ok with it, given the conditions. Next race, Tybee Island. Fun race! At least for the 15mins that I stayed in before being pulled. Walterboro was up next - this is one of the races I actually finished when I did this series in 2008. Took about 15mins to be pulled. Mind you, they only pulled when you were about to get lapped so that gives you some indication of my speed vs the peloton.

After a travel day, Spartanburg was my last race - because I pulled the plug after being dismissed in a record 9mins.

I would be lying if I didn't admit that there were tears - a lot of them - and something pretty close to heartbreak. I put in so much time, diligently did hours on end and only missed a workout or two when I was sick. I sent whiney messages to my coach, who asked frustrating questions like where I lined up or whether I was over-geared - these questions were irrelevant in my mind because I didn't get dropped because of position or gearing. I simply did not have the legs, did not have the acceleration, did not have the speed. I used to pride myself on being able to hold onto a wheel - you really had to kill yourself to get away. Now people were riding away from me like I was pedaling backwards.

About mid-week the issue was revealed. There was an obvious hole in my training that didn't work the weakness that I was well aware of and that was clearly defined months ago. Why we were finding this out in the middle of my goal-week, after 5 months of training toward this goal? Why were my previous concerns overlooked and brushed off?

These are the questions I had to ask and I was not necessarily comforted by the answer. After killing 5 valuable days of vacation time from work, spending $$ on hotels/entry fees etc and being unhappy/disappointed the entire week, I didn't want to see my bike. I didn't want to be seen by anyone who would ask how Speed Week went. I didn't want to have to suffer the humiliation - all the training, all the build up and this was my result. I felt like a complete failure. I tried but couldn't do the workouts assigned for that week and finally realized that I was too far gone - I didn't have the heart to trust that my time and effort would be rewarded with progress/results.

The question I now have is this:  how much accountability do I have in my training if I'm paying someone to work with me? If I'm responsive, I ask questions and let my concerns be known, have I played my part? Should I have questioned more, pushed back more?

I know this particular coach has had good success with other athletes - and as a side note, I think this coach is an awesome person - maybe I just require a different kind of training? But, it's all numbers, right? The numbers don't lie.

Is it fair to hold a coach accountable for a huge hole in your training program when it compromises your season goal?

Can I start over - is there any point to that given that the season will be mostly over by the time I catch up to everyone else?

So, that's where I am. I'm not done for the season; I've let go of the bitterness and most of the heartache that came with this experience. But, I'm kind of flying blind without declaring a goal - probably because I'm afraid to.

TGIF - 4/19/2013

The Carl Dolan Memorial Race - we hate it but we love it. I hear people speak of this race with both opinions, sometimes in the same sentence. The things we love include the class that DC Velo always puts into their events, the recovery tent (complete with Nutella, the nectar of the gods), the fun lead cars, the quick results and random touches like Ryan running around in a Curious George outfit asking if we're curious about clean energy. The things we hate - well, hate is a pretty strong word, so lets just call it the things we don't love: the inevitable headwind on the backside of the course, the fact that the course makes it so hard to shed weaker riders, that godforsaken turn at the bottom where everyone (at least in my experience) hits the brakes and causes a domino effect in the field, and the inevitable terrible crash(s) that happen(s) every year.

Some teams make this their goal race with all hands on deck. This year, many raced a partial squad with teammates disbursed to Battenkill. There are always the one-offs and, with Evolution, the two-off. We staged a decent field of Senior Women with a solid Novice women starting a minute behind us. Unlike most years, the race started at the gun with American University dragging the field in single-file for the first lap and a half. This was not going to be the normal cookie-ride to the sprint. When AU pulled off, we had various volunteers to keep the pace fairly high. ABRT had 3 in the field and staged more than one attack and counter attack move. We (Kelley and I) were glued to their respective wheels with a keen eye on Artemis, who has won just about every race she's entered this year. A few laps in they called a prime so I thought it might be a good time to test out the legs. I wanted to gauge that hill and how long I could hold a sprint. (I use the word "sprint" very loosely here). 

The test was a good one -I figured out that if I went before 400m, I couldn't hold the power to the line. Good to know.

At one point toward the end of the race, ABRT launched an attack that turned into the makings of a break - all teams were represented and once we had a gap, I thought it might stick. Unfortunately, no one wanted to commit and after about a half a lap, we all came back together.

Kelley and I covered the attacks that looked dangerous but otherwise tried to stay out of the wind. By the end of the race, we were both in good position through the last turn. The field played chicken as we came up the hill until the 500m line. I found myself on the left side as the field surged. Unfortunately, everyone wanted to be on the left so I was trapped in traffic. I saw Kelley fly up the right side as I finally cleared a line. She had a gap and would have taken the "W" - but had an asthma attack 100m from the line. She coasted in for 5th as I cleared the line in 8th place.

We'll take the top 5 and top 10 for now ... but we're gunning for more.

TGIF - 4/12/13

Usually I look forward to Fridays. They tend to be low key; roll in a few mins late, leave an hour or so early. I'm often the last one standing on Friday at 3:30pm. Then there's the anticipation of ride/race plans for the weekend and a whole two days without adult supervision to look forward to.

This week work has been kicking my arse - between playing IT girl (how did the accountant become IT?) and implementing a new payroll system, I'm fried. And today I have been plagued by employees who have some issue or another and I have apparently become Miss Fix-it. No real time to work through race plans and my grand plans to book lodging for Speed Week have all but disappeared. I suppose this is why we call it "work" and not "fun".

So on to the stuff I want to talk about: this weekend is a big one - the first two-fer of the season ... Chantilly on Saturday and Dolan (or Richmond Int'l) on Sunday. So far it's been a mixed bag for me. A good start at William and Mary in Feb. At Black Hills I did my best not to chain-ring a bride-to-be that landed in front of me and wound up chasing the rest of the race. Morgantown was an interesting experience that included cracking BOTH my 303s. Thank you to Haymarket Bicycles for handling the crash replacement process! Nothing quite like discovering the damage and being able to lean over to the next car and say hey, Jared, I'm gonna need a set of 303s. Jeff and Jared stripped the wheels and, aside from the monetary cost, I didn't have to do a thing.

Jeff Cup was all Jeff Cup tends to be. It was a gorgeous day to be on the bike and after a fairly spirited pre-ride, Team Evo was ready to rock. I know I haven't been training to peak at Jeff Cup so I didn't have huge expectations. Somehow I found myself on the front leading the first lap. I really need to work on hiding in the draft but there I was and no one was coming around. On one hand, it wasn't terrible to go my own pace up the hill. On the other - as my coach said - DON'T DO THAT AGAIN.

We survived the first two laps with relatively no issues. Dana and Kelley are both super awesome at finding the right place to be and staying there. Again, I have to learn these skills. I'm so trained from prior race lives to take care of teammates and to do the heavy lifting that I forget to be smart about ME. Laura from Velocita jumped early and I put in a good dig to chase - then sat up muttering to myself "I don't know what the eff I thought I was doing". I think someone giggled at that. A lap later, Jenette put in two hard attacks and I happened to be on her wheel both times. What can I say -when I find a wheel that I know is strong and steady, I usually stick there. Anyway, I used a couple matches to chase onto her, only to have the field latch on shortly thereafter.

We rounded to start lap 3 where things were just starting to get spicy. Katy (ABRT) jumped a couple times and eventually had a few seconds on the field. We gave chase only to be neutralized right before the last little bump leading to the right turn into the hill. We waited what seemed like hours. In reality it was probably about 10mins. Enough time to have lunch and answer a call from nature if necessary. I had enough time grab some honey stinger gummies and roll over to Avenell from BikeBeat to chat about blogs.

They finally set us free and it went off like a bat outta hell. Because my luck is what it is, I couldn't get clipped in and wound up at the back going through that corner. The leaders attacked as we came into the hill and my legs said "no, thank you". I cursed and chased but to no avail - I was off the pack.

Teammie Gwenn had slowed to latch me back onto the pack going into the turn so as we both slowly dropped off the pack, we teamed up to pick off other riders. We stuck together for a good while until some guys came by (Philbilly was in there!)  and I latched onto them. All was well there until it went vertical and I couldn't match their speed so I came to that winery-turn again all by my lonesome. After catching another guy (VeloWorks?), we paced each other to the finish where, when I crossed the line, I asked "am I done here?". They said yes and I blessed them.

The good out of all of this is that Team Evo had 2 in the top 10 for the 1-2 Category! Dana was 9th and Kelley had an awesome race to wind up in 10th. I can be happy for whatever I might have contributed to those finishes and come back to race another day. That day will be tomorrow.

Training Camp Re-Cap - Day 3

We had pretty much written off Saturday's ride by Friday evening. All known weather reports called for rain, cold and wind starting early in the morning and spanning most of the day. In our cabin, we considered what to do - some would like a day to do nothing, some considered a group trainer session and then doing nothing and others considered just going home, happy to have survived the initial two days of camp.We woke up Saturday morning and while it was damp outside, it wasn't raining. And it wasn't that cold. Could it be? Were the weather-people ... WRONG?

Phil ran down to check things out while the rest of us considered the options. I had a very light breakfast and awaited news. Lo and behold, the weather had already moved through and we were in the clear until later that evening. The scramble was on - the ride was supposed to leave at 10 and it was about 9:20. I grabbed my fabulous new kit, tried again to see if legwarmers would work with the bandages (they didn't) and started pulling on my super-woman suit.

We were all pretty close to kitted up (is that a verb?) when Jeff walked in with a different plan. This plan involved a different route and leaving an hour later. All he needed for my vote was "an hour later". While the masters guys continued with the 10am start, we enjoyed a cup of coffee and continued to debate our ride attire for the day.

At 11am about 15 riders posted up for the modified ride. The route had us heading out on the highway so we split up into two groups for safety. I tell you, this crew thinks of EVERYTHING. Once we turned onto the highway there was no room for a paceline- wherever you rolled out in the line is where you stayed. Some teammates were feeling the weekend in their legs but we all survived to meet at the local BP where we debated ride plans.

A few (arguably smarter) riders were good with an out-and-back but I wanted to give the longer route a whirl - hey, we're in the mountains, might as well climb a few, right? I was a little worried that I hadn't fueled with my normal breakfast; the last thing I want to do is slow down the guys. Like a true gentleman, Dan quickly offered a spare banana (THANK YOU!) to ease my anxiety. 

And so we were off to the races, so to speak. About half the group decided to roll out on a reverse loop of the Thursday ride. I pulled through the paceline once before someone wiser than me advised that I should just sit in. I was good with that plan - I didn't want to hold anyone back and no one wanted to have to drag me home because I charged too hard in the beginning.

I don't think I've ever just sat on the back of a paceline, there is definitely an art to it. At various times I had a couple of guys sitting on my wheel so it was an important art to learn in order to avoid working too hard to keep up. First, I had to make sure those in the paceline knew I wasn't pulling through. You can tell when someone is on your wheel and it sucks to have to jump to catch the wheel ahead if they don't pull through. I started telling each rider: ok, that's you. Phil, that's you. Go, Tom, that's you. After a couple of turns, they had it down and I was able to surf wheels - I think I actually learned what it really means to "surf wheels". After few more rotations Greg asked "how are we doing, coach?". Smooth like butta'!

Then we went vertical. These tired (and injured!) legs just couldn't push the same power but I guess I held my own, considering. The guys were kind enough to make sure I got up and over before they hammered to the next climb. Despite my vertical suffering, I loved the route and the day was turning out to be (gasp) warm and sunny. At the the top of one climb I rolled up to see a bunch of skinny, pale bike racers peeling out of baselayers- so THAT'S what the guys do on their rides!

At the top of a climb - post peel-out.

Of course, they chose the one place where there were houses and a church (another gasp!) in view. My winter baselayer was soaked with sweat as well so ... when in Rome, right?

Thankfully, pictures weren't taken until everyone was back together again.

We rolled back in with some of the faster guys charging down Dove Hollow and me just hanging on. I think my words were "I believe I bit off more than I can chew". At least those were the words I don't have to censor. Timing couldn't have been better - a few sprinkles started coming down just as we were getting through the minefield, aka Dove Hollow. I am happy that I did the ride and thankful that the guys were all super-awesome-cool, that weather held off and that the route was so much fun

After cleaning up, I had to run into town to get more bandages. Funny, 1/2 hour out of camp and I still only had a couple bars of cell signal and NO data signal. Verizon apparently doesn't do West Virginia. Anyway, I found a drug store and bought enough tegaderm to last at least the next 3 years.

On the drive back I ran into Nate, still pedaling, grinding up the final climb into camp. I slowed to make sure he was good and wondered why he was still out there. I asked him at dinner and it turns out he was finishing up a CENTURY. And was still upright and coherent for dinner. Holy impressive!!!

I'm sorry for those that left camp due to the impending weather - it really turned into great day on the bike. We finished off the day as usual, with our group dinner. This crew is so well-prepared, they make it look easy ... thank you for the hard work and thoughtful preparation. Gwenn and I decided we had earned a Turtle-Martini (or three)  and Jeff caught this pic to memorialize the occasion.

Nothing but smiles!

Training Camp Re-Cap - Day 2

The wake up call would have come too early on Friday except I wasn't sleeping anyway. See, I'm a side-sleeper and the whole left half of me felt like it had been thrown off a bike - probably because that's pretty much what happened. Having depleted Claudette's first aid kit the day before, I was in need of bandages. I got up and started making breakfast - because that's what you do when you're not sure what to do.

Claudette, the saint that she is, came over to check in and proceeded to run over to Philbilly's cabin to obtain the good stuff. No, not drugs - Tegaderm. At that very moment, Tegaderm was all I wanted.

Philbilly wasn't feeling all that great having been a victim of the ice-patch (see prior post) but he generously shared his coveted medical supplies and Claudette once again provided the assist. Feeling better about myself, I proceeded to suit up and make the best of it. What else was I going to do - miss all the fun? I couldn't use leg warmers for the cold temps - the top elastic hit at just the right spot to tear apart my recently refreshed bandages. Against my own hygiene standards, I was forced to wear the previous day's tights, complete with blood spots and gravel-torn holes.

Thank you to Brian, who pointed out that he could see my white underwear (bib shorts) through the holes. This from the same guy who pointed at my swollen hip the prior evening and asked "Is that normal?" and announced to the table "you should let it ooze tonight before putting any bandages on". I really have to meet his wife - she must be an amazing woman.

We rolled down to the base to figure out who was riding where and with whom. There was an "A" ride that included the vicious climb up the backside of the mountain to get back to camp. Some of the more sane in the bunch (relatively speaking) chose to do a loop that excluded the part about trying not to fall off your bike on steep switchbacks. I had the pleasure of sharing the day with JC, Turtle, Jeffrey, Nate, Chris, Tania, Stephanie, Claudette and Gwenn. Chris and JC were riding like they had a mission and I did my best just trying to hang on. We were, in effect, the injured reserve - Chris was nursing his dislocated fingers on Jeff's spare bike (again, who brings an extra bike to camp!?!), which was a touch too small; JC was ok riding but all you had to do was make him laugh if you wanted him to slow down. Luckily for him, we aren't a mean group and wouldn't want to see anyone in pain like that. Oh, and then there's me - despite the bandages, I was bleeding through my shorts just a bit and the advil wore off way too early.
 

thankfully, gwenn has long arms to get all of us in this shot!

It was a fabulous day to be on the bike. The climb up into the National Forest was amazing and the downhills were so much fun. JC was orchestrating some of the action and when we figured it out, we were flying down the mountain with peals of laughter. I believe fun was had by all.

Pretty cool kits, right?

 
Meanwhile, back at the ranch .... the more masochistic of our bunch were fighting their way against gravity to get up that mountain. There were some great rides from all reports but they were overshadowed by Bu-Bu's magic hands. That's all I have to say about that.

Once again we convened for dinner, where Gwenn found a reason to use the phrase "like a chicken on a june bug". I have no idea how she worked that into conversation but she did. I can't really follow that up.

Gwenn is going for the super-model look.

Those of us with championship jerseys had a photo shoot with Chris. Oddly enough, Luis's jersey fit Claudette and Gwenn. I'm not sure what that says but it definitely it says something.

We were laughing the entire time - Chris is a genius for making us look good!

as Claudette said - assume the position! the NUMBER PINNING position - get your mind out of the gutter.

Training Camp Re-cap- Day 1

This weekend I had the pleasure of joining about 40(+/-) illustrious members of the Evolution Cycling Club as we took to the roads of Lost River to play in the mountains for a few days. I had been looking forward to this adventure since I bandited last year's event as a non-member. This year I was thrilled to finally be a legit member.

Thursday morning started early to make an unofficial breakfast at Cristina's - well worth the early wakeup call to begin the day with this crew. The food was great and the company was even better.

We all hopped in our respective cars and rolled caravan-style into Lost River State Park, our home for the next 4 days. I had packed like I was staying in a third world country  - every bit of cycling clothing I could even pretend might be useful, layers ranging from sunny and 70degrees to the arctic and shoes for every occasion. Ok, I only brought 3 pair of shoes but, still, that was like a different pair for each night.

I changed into my cycling gear and high-tailed it down to the base of the camp. It was pretty chilly so I chose my tights and my favorite thermal jacket with appropriate base layering. As we waited for the final group to descend from the cabins, we learned that camp started with a casualty ... on the way down from the cabin, Kent's head-tube broke, throwing him into the woods and rendering the bike useless. Thankfully, he was physically ok and happened to have his spare bike (who brings a spare bike to camp?!? bravo for the foresight!)

The Cabin next to ours - they're actually pretty awesome inside

Assured that he was ok, the rest of us got rolling. Let me state up front that I knew from previous rides that I. HATE. DOVE. HOLLOW.  It sounds all peaceful and stuff but it's pure hell - crappy surface, wheel-eating potholes and random patches of pea-gravel that doesn't announce itself the way a polite, peaceful road would. Anyway, this crew was ready to go and our warm up was hanging on to wheels for dear life through that minefield. A few miles into it, I noticed that I had lost my girls so I sat up to check on everyone. Once I reconnected with them, Luis comes flying by (having checked on Kent before rolling out) so I hopped on his wheel. He's trying to catch the main group and I figured - I'll take that ride. It's cold and we are not going slow - between my eyes tearing up and the shadows, I didn't see the road turn into pebble-gravel as I took a sweeping left turn. Less than 5miles into the camp, I slid out in a pretty grand fashion.

As we bike racers tend to do, I hopped up immediately and took inventory, wasting no time to get back on and pedal. I was hurt but not injured so I intended to use the adrenaline to catch back up with the group. My plan was thwarted when another teammate stood at the top of a small descent, telling me to slow down. I slowly crested the hill to see a melee - a random sheet of ice had taken down several guys, some of whom were still on the ground.

Damage report for day 1 - at least three broken bikes (maybe four?), two dislocated fingers (turns out one was broken), some bruised ribs (again, turns out one was broken), a bunch of bumps and bruises and half my arse left on the pavement. What a start to this weekend!!

After a death-march of a ride in the wind, the next task was to treat the wounded - that would be me. Bike was ok but I had some road rash in places that required assistance. Gwenn went in search of bandages and sent Claudette over with her recently-replenished first aid kit. While we have had the pleasure of riding and/or hanging out a time or two this winter, I'm certain she never thought she'd have to help bandage my arse. Bless you, Claudette - you are super-awesome-cool - and I thought that before you had a look at my bum.

What's the best way to finish off a day like this? A team dinner. The chance to tell stories, eat good food you didn't have to cook and generally enjoy each other's company - happy that we made it through the calamity? or just happy to be there to share the adventure? All of the above if you ask me. The glass of wine Jeff poured for me helped my overall disposition - of that I am certain. 

Of course some of us chose a different way to celebrate our survival. To each their own, right?

Tidewater Classic 2.23.13

I suppose it's time for my monthly off-season blog post. The good news (depending on your view on the subject) is that race season for me started this weekend - this means more rambling! It was a cold and rainy start to the season so you  know I have plenty to say about it.

The start to the season was not in the actual race, it was pre-race. Right before I rolled out to stage, I got to witness some poor guy heaving up his breakfast, last night's dinner and maybe yesterday's lunch. I didn't see it at first, I HEARD it ... which is worse in my book. Anyhoo, that didn't give me any warm and fuzzies for the break-in race.

While the Bikereg field was only 5 deep, that didn’t account for about 15 Collegiate “A” ladies that would be racing with us. Those ladies are already in their race season so I knew they’d be a little further along in fitness than I was. Our fields were scored separately so while the collegiates would influence the race, they were not our competition for the win.The other 1-2-3 women included 2 BikeBeat (VA Beach) riders and one NCVC rider. As a side note, NCVC has been racing for the past month all over the country culminating in a stage win in the Valley of Sun race (AZ). NCVC was definitely the one to beat.

Anyhoo, the schedule called for 5 laps totaling 50 miles but the race was cut by 1 lap before we started for reasons unknown to me.  

We rolled out all neutral-like, happy to get moving if only to warm up from standing in the cold. After a hard left on to the course, the race was on. The pace picked up, driven mostly by the collegiate racers. I expected a surge on the first hill but that didn’t come until after we crested what looked like the top but actually continued at a more gradual grade upward. The acceleration fizzled and while we shed a few racers, we were mostly together. That was a fine hello, how-do-ya-do for my legs.

I spent the next two laps tail-gunning, covering moves if they looked dangerous and keeping an eye on the two BikeBeat girls. I couldn’t really gauge them. They were both kind of stocky and showed they had power (especially on the flats). Then I noticed that they both charged the front as we approached the climbs and drifted back as we went vertical. As long as they didn’t get a huge lead on me for the finishing climb, I’d be ok.

After many fits and starts, commentary about cold hands, cold feet and fish stories about prior races complemented by some bickering amongst the younger riders, we FINALLY made the turn off the course for the final 1k run into the finish, which consisted of a short, flat section into a bugger of a hill. The collegiates in contention animated and I saw NCVC making the move to follow. I jumped a half second later and saw a clean line on the right. I had a good run going until it was shut down by another rider pulling right. I had to hold a pedal stroke, wait for someone to pass, move to the left and re-start the effort. I managed to pick off riders after that debacle but lost a few overall spots in the process.The good news is that I managed to pick off the right girls to wind up 2nd in the 1-2-3 race. Not a bad way to get back in the groove.

The End of the Beginning

And so we wind down this first month of 2013. The last month or so has been packed with ups and downs, new beginnings, the ending of one era and transitioning to a new one. In between all of that, I've had the typical comedy of errors and hijinks that most people who know me have come to expect.

First, as I mentioned in my last post (over a month ago! i'm such a terrible blogger these days), I took on a new-new position with a new company. In between jobs, I had the pleasure of living the life of a wanna-be pro cyclist. I told my coach that I had free time and she accommodated me with back-to-back 3-4 hour rides for about 2 weeks. As an aside, by "wanna-be pro cyclist" (WBPC) I mean the pro-cyclist life without the sag support, daily massages and chef-prepared nutrition. So, pretty much I was just an out-of-work chick who rode her bike a lot.

Anyway, she made sure I didn't overdo it, as I am prone to do, but we did load up the base miles. It was a strangely liberating feeling with just me, my powermeter and my ipod for hours on end. The only downside is that there are only a couple of routes out of town (that I know) so by the time I started working again, I was ok with the "break" from MacArthur/Poolesville/10am routes.

Somewhere in those two weeks, the boy and I made the trek out west for the holiday. I continued the WBPC routine out there with the compliment of a couple indoor rides due to snow. On our way out we happened upon an unexpected snow storm somewhere around the VA/WVA line. It was awful - borderline blizzard conditions. All kinds of crap from the road was being kicked up (snow? ice? rock salt?) and I could barely see the one lane that was still passable on the 3 lane highway. I'm not a wuss driver -I raced sprint cars in a prior life! but this was bad. We made it safe and sound, only about 2.5hrs later than we hoped, but I swear that took years off my life.

The next day we went out to the car only to realize that one of those flying objects actually broke through glass. I needed a new windshield. Progressive was awesome and set up something for the day after Christmas. Only it snowed that day and none of the back roads were viable. In the meantime, the boy was going to take the car to town for last minute shopping but ... it wouldn't start. Nothing. Not even pretending to turn over. We put the car into the garage and hooked it up to a charger- it would start but once we turned it off - nothing. So we jumped it and took it to Advanced Auto. One guy tried saying it was my starter but thankfully another, more experienced, guy said no, I just need a battery.

In the end, my souvenirs from this trip were a new battery and a new windshield. Sorry, I didn't get you anything. If it makes you feel any better, I wound up having to replace my brakes and rotors after this trip as well. This was a very expensive trip - next time I'm flying.

I leave you with some random pics from the past month or so. 

Winter Wonderland - Snow for Christmas in Kentucky. 

The boy helps celebrate the beginning of the Month of Wendy (MoW)

Look to the right of the trees. Two snow-people, hanging out after the rest of the snow melted. Taken in Poolsville area.

Holiday breakfast by the boy. Yum!

I raced one of these! Of course, it was a lifetime ago but ... I'm not a wuss driver!