This is my Friday - 9.18.14

Lots to catch up on!

So. It’s been a while. It’s hard to follow up a blog post about the death of your mother with witty and sarcastic commentary about bikes, racing, wine, friends and life in general. It’s been a tough few months at work as well so I just haven’t found the motivation to be sarcastic and witty.

I limped through the last month or two of race season because I didn’t want to squander the leads I had established in both BAR competitions and the VA Omnium. I even conquored my fears of the Track thanks to Gwenn and her expertise. Thanks also to Esmonde, who lent me his track bike (that I have not yet returned!) 

Champions of the WORLD!!

 Thankfully I did manage to hold the overall on all counts so the effort was not without reward but gosh, my results were terrible and I wasn’t having fun. Thank goodness for off season!!

 

Admit it- these are pretty SWEET

The offseason gives me a chance to do silly things … like running. Yes, you read that right. I have been running on a somewhat regular basis. In the beginning it was pretty slow – I won’t quote any numbers but take my word for it – S L O W. Then I got a new pair of kicks ! Nothing like something new to make you step your game up, right? Eh. Kinda. I’m still slow by any “real” runner’s judgment, but faster than my original slow. I do heart my new running shoes. I admit that I hesitated Wednesday morning on getting out there but I did it - because I wanted to wear my shoes. 

I’m also doing some P90x workouts. I say “some” because I’m not following the schedule as I have in the past. It’s tough to find time for running and long days at work with 1-1.5 hrs of P90x every day. That said, it’s doing good things for me; the ab workout nearly kills you in 16mins if you do it right and, let’s admit it, we aren’t doing a whole lotta upper body stuff on the bike so push-ups and pull-ups are great cross training (tiny baby pull ups for me – someday I want to do a real one. someday). 

Oh, and I finally get to commute by bike to work!! The office building finished the gym and associated locker room with showers. Yes, I’ve been told that I could do a field shower but … no. It’s not a long commute but it starts the day off much better for everyone. For me, I get to work happy because of the adrenaline spike. For others, I’m not yelling at stupid people doing stupid things on the road. Win-Win. 

Bikes!!

Offseason has given me the chance to do things that I haven’t done in way too long. Like going up to visit my beautiful cousin in PA. We took a marathon bike ride together, something we’ve never done. She doesn’t ride and was on flat-pedals but hung in there for over 3 hours!

Bike ride with a thumb in the pic.

Then we went to the Zac Brown concert in Hershey – hands down, the best concert I’ve been to! So glad to have that memory.

Making faces before the concert

Someone please explain why I couldn't take decent pics - The girl in front of me was taking awesome shots but this is the best I got.

The next weekend I went down to Charlottesville with Claudette for a metric century in the hills. I finally got to meet Mary; I’ve heard her name and knew of her but it was fun to hang out and ride with both of these fine ladies. Loved the little town of Charlottesville. I’ve been in the area for races but never knew the cute little town square. A fun weekend trek with some fun people! 

Mary, Claudette and me. Look at those green rolling hills!

Because I saw it in the parking garage and thought it was kinda cool.

Real Life: It kinda sucks sometimes

It was her birthday. She was officially 63. And she died later that morning.

I hadn’t heard her voice in several years and her last two years were spent exclusively in the nursing home bed with a feeding tube and bad TV for when she was actually awake. I didn’t visit as often as I probably should have because it was so hard to see her; until the last year or so, she would cry violently at random times and I hated to think that I was stirring up bad memories or that she had a sudden jolt of consciousness and realized what condition she was in. She was trapped in her own body and I could only hope that her mind didn’t let her know how bad it was. The woman I knew would be mortified to know that people had to change her diaper and that her beautiful teeth were full of cavities because they just don’t spend time or money on teeth when they’re trying to keep you alive and out of pain.

In some ways her passing was a relief. She suffered from Alzheimers and Parkinsons ; the former was diagnosed as dementia back in 2007 or so because she was “too young” to have Alzheimers. The latter came on slowly but worked consistently to shut her body down. It’s been a tough week or so for me to figure things out in my head. Her passing was not a shock but the finality of it was still hard to take. I look around at other ladies her age, doting on children and grandchildren, off to bingo or vacationing with their family and wonder why she couldn’t have that. I think, more than anything, I mourn the lost opportunity, how things could have been different and better somehow. 

Her life, and our family life, was not easy but I do remember some good times and happy memories. I’m staring at a picture on my desk right now that I took from the nursing home on my last visit – by some beautiful stroke of fate I managed to make the trip up to see her two days before she passed away. 

The picture was taken shortly after my brother died and I wanted to take her out for a girl’s day. We already knew she was regressing but she was still functional. We went to get our hair done; the picture was taken in the salon. That day I also took her to get her very first pedicure. She didn’t quite know what to do with that and she had ticklish feet so she was giggling the whole time. Oh, and I took her to Starbucks. She didn’t know what she wanted so I got her a Caramel Latte. She tentatively took a sip and her face lit up – THIS IS SO GOOD!  It is a happy-sad memory right now but it’s mostly happy.

We did not have a great relationship but I know she had a good heart.  Right now I hope that I’m wrong in my opinions about religion and she’s out in the great somewhere, hanging out with my brother and my granddaddy. Even if that’s not how things work, the thought makes me smile. She suffered more than any one person should have to in a lifetime. Rest in peace, Momma

Fort Ritchie - Where I was almost a Champion

This weekend's Masters Championship race was sparsely attended by the women. In total, the 35+ and 45+ field had 7 pre-registered and 2 day of. One of the pre-registrants couldn't make it so we were still a tiny field.

It's a fun course and the weather was darn near perfect for a fast race while working on the bike-tan lines. The thing about such a small field, there's really nowhere to hide and you don't get a line of riders to latch on should you blow yourself up at the front and drop back.

Dana was in the 45+ racing against two Colavita riders, Tania and I were racing for the 35+ jersey against Mary from NCVC, who is on fire right now, Tsahai from Artemis and a relatively unknown Stacy Jensen with an out-of-district team.

Dana went from the gun while I had what might have been my worst start ever. I couldn't clip in, nearly impaled myself on the top tube when my foot slipped and then killed myself to catch up as our small field crested the initial rise in the course. I realized that I was in the small ring - which explained why I was spinning out trying to catch back on - about halfway down the hill into the last turn. I guess that's one way to start a race. Sheesh.

We settled into a pretty good pace with some attacks from Colavita and NCVC but I was successful to stay around 3rd wheel most of the time. Dana launched a couple of times and I would counter but to be honest, no one wanted to do that course alone with the headwind on the backside. I saw others make attacks and noted that attacking into the wind didn't work because everyone would come together with the downhill into the turn. It seemed like a lot of jockying for shelter but no one was able to sit in.

While we kept the pace pretty solid, it was still a relatively uneventful race with the exception of the beer primes. Those prompted some momentum but it normally fizzled out by the first turn. A prime was called with 4-to-go so coming to the line the speed picked up. I had planned on countering the prime but was a little bit out of position so I charged past the line with everyone else, picking off spots. There was a melee behind me and I found out it was my teammate, Tania, that went down. They neutralized us with 2-to-go as the ambulance had to get on course to help Tania. I have some pretty gruesome pictures of her helmet that Phil sent out - definitely a good "wear your helmet" campaign message. Thankfully she is ok and home, healing with plenty of road rash.

The Chief Ref had us spin around while we waited and let us know that they would start us with a neutral lap and then we'll be on for 2-to-go.

Starting what amounts to a sprint race is always tricky - everyone has lost the rhythm of the race and we're all a bit twitchy, trying to organize our respective plans of attack. We got going neutral and then got the whistle to go for reals. Kind of. Going around the backside no one wanted to take the wind so it slowed down a tick. Come into the bell lap and we started jockeying for position. Dana took a flyer on the backside but we were catching her as we went into the downhill. I knew this was now or never so I dropped a gear and flew up the inside. For a second I thought I might have gone too late and would run out of real estate before the turn but I came through clean, leaned into the turn and immediately straightened up to start my sprint. YES. You read that right. I actually sprinted.

I threw everything I had into it, running to the line and no one was passing me. I saw the red tape and heard a wheel coming around me. Stacy just out sprinted me for the win. Dana came in on my right, winning her category. I was pretty happy with myself. While I didn't win, I knew I had a good race.

Then the drama. I was informed that I had won the jersey. Stacy is not in a club in our district and, to be honest, I was shocked and thrilled at the same time. Dana and I BOTH won jerseys. Yay!

Not so fast.

The MABRA rules changed in the last couple of years. Unlike VCA, where you have to be a member of a club in good standing, anyone who is of age can come in, take the championship and maybe dip in sometime next year. Apparently you don't have to be associated with MABRA at all to win the championship. You can simply have an address in a certain zip code zone and you are eligible. How does that encourage people to be a part of a club or encourage clubs to bother to pay dues and promote races?

As we were waiting for the ruling as to who actually got the jersey, she actually said "I don't care about the jersey, just give me the payout". Don't get me wrong, I have raced with her in other venues and I have nothing against her at all. Yeah, she won the race, all well and good. But she's not MABRA. She's not going to represent MABRA. Her club does not promote races in MABRA, nor do they pay MABRA dues. She DOESN'T CARE about the jersey, does that not say enough??  Is THAT who you want to call your "Champion"?

What was a great race for me pretty much turned into an emotional rollercoaster. It was a tiny race of 8 people but it meant something and now it represents something different. I never ask for anything to be handed to me but this is completely unfair and unsupportive of those who support you, MABRA.

I suppose this is where someone will say "too bad, life isn't fair".

Whatever.

Richmond Road Race Ramblings

Richmond Road Race – Women’s Open + Juniors

12:20pm start, 44miles

After an evening of recovery from Meadows Farms with Chuck and Dana, a later start to the day was much appreciated. 

Some of our guys in the early races were just finishing when I arrived at Ashland Berry Farm. The weather was gorgeous and no matter the finish, the guys were smiling. Talking about what a great course it was. Raving about the superiority of this experience over our multitude of war stories at Bike Jam. To tell the truth, I was feeling quite smug myself for having chosen this venue to spend my $$ and my legs on. 

I considered Meadows Farm to be my openers for the day; my warm up was with Michele pedaling around the roads near the start. Near enough that we were close to coming head-on in the wrong direction as the big-boys rolled out. Oops. 

The course starts off with a nice little downhill into a false flat (you know how much I hate that term but it conveys the point), into some rollers and fun, twisty roads. A little kicker at about 11miles, more fun rollers and a final hill before the 2mile run in to the finish. Beautiful roads, one tight turn where the road on the left kind of just disappears and crossing rail road tracks 4 times. Two 22-mile laps was our race. 

We had a pretty good field both in numbers and in strength. My first mental hurdle was rolling out from a gravel drive – as I was making the right turn on to the road I’m certain the look on my face was one of horror as I imagined wiping out before I even got started. This is what happens in my head …it’s a scary place. 

The rolling enclosure was MONEY – without that, we might have had another abomination like the women’s race at All American this year. No one really wanted to put themselves out into the wind so a few ladies set the pace and everyone else jockeyed for wheels. There was no attempt to get away but we did try to keep a decent pace. I knew everyone was just waiting for the final hill. It was a bit scary at times with girls not paying attention or trying to push each other off wheels. I found myself out in the wind more than I’d like but it was much less stressful than being between two bad bike handlers. 

As expected, the strong girls pushed the pace on the hill, which turned out to be a stair-step. The pack managed to make it up mostly together on the first step but all hell broke loose on the second pitch. I was in a bad position going in – it didn’t look so good for me at that point. I almost gave up but latched on to another girl chasing and went into greyhound-rabbit mode. I managed claw my way back to the pack … and then there were 12. 

To be honest, I was just happy with myself for not giving up. As most of you know, I’m recovering from a stretch of bad luck in training and racing so this was huge for me. We quickly organized into a paceline. The goal was to make sure we didn’t get caught. The Moto was giving us splits which stayed steady around 30-37 seconds for a while. Suddenly the rubber band broke and it shot up to over a minute. We didn’t get splits after that. Everyone worked fairly well, no one tried the “sit up and take a drink” move to skip a pull and once we settled in, we had a hard, fast pace going. 

As with the prior lap, I knew the charge was going to be up the hill. I also knew I was tired. The finish was looming. We made the turn to go up the hill and the charge went. I stood up to go and just as quickly sat back down when my legs argued with me about the effort. I couldn’t tell how many went up the road but as another girl tried to pass me, I resolved that I wasn’t done yet. (channel Monty Python – I’m not dead yet!)

I set my sights on two girls in front of me and caught them. I sat on for a second to breathe and then jumped past them, making sure they couldn’t follow. Two more were up the road, I caught them as well. Erin came flying by and the girls latched on to her but fell off after a few pedal strokes. I knew this was my ride to the line, so I threw it all down to pass them and close the gap. I took a short pull once I caught her but didn’t have much left – the finish came into sight and she sprinted for the line. I like to think she was afraid I’d sprint past her but she was probably just practicing the sprint with tired legs. 

Turns out, 5 were up the road, Erin made 6 which put me 7^th. 

Fun course, great group of girls to ride with and definitely on the calendar to do next year. Yeah, I’m pretty happy with my choice of race courses this weekend.

A Late Jefferson Cup 2014 Survival Report

About a week before race-day, Ruth mentioned on Facebook that the weather was going to be sunny and in the 60’s. As the week progressed, forecasted temperatures dropped and by Saturday we knew it was going to be NOT sunny and NOT in the 60’s. 

Ever the optimist (or perhaps in denial), I did some openers at home and proceeded to pack the car for the drive south.

Race Day. Cold. Light rain. Nothing I couldn’t handle. I wasn’t HAPPY about it but at some point a girl’s gotta just get on with the business at hand. We had all of our Cat 2 women signed up and the typical strong field of competition for the first big race of the season. Given the weather conditions, several of the women (arguably smarter than me) bowed out.  We gathered for the pre-race instructions. And waited. Freezing. Then we rolled out for the slow ride to the start line. And waited. Freezing. 

Finally the whistle blew and we got moving. I was just happy to move hoping to warm up. I thought I was prepared but I failed to pack winter gloves and shoe covers. It had rained most of the night so the roads were wet; the second my feet got wet they froze. The upside is that once they go numb you really can’t feel anything and hey, my legs could still turn the pedals. See? Ever the optimist. 

The first time up “the hill” we were rather civilized. I felt good spinning up the climb and happy to be in the front few as we crested. Then the downhill. In halfway normal conditions I can take a downhill. But these were wet roads. With potholes that could be puddles and puddles that might be potholes. And over-anxious riders, some recently upgraded and doing their first 1-2-3 race. I backed WAY off and found myself chasing on. Which was ok – upright and chasing sure beats on the pavement because someone thought they could bomb a wet descent. 

I caught on just fine and sat in for the “false flat” section; we came across the line gruppo compacto. There were a few accelerations and a couple of honest attacks. I was definitely conserving energy given the distance of the race and the deteriorating conditions. Again, I dropped way back on the descent leading up to the “false flat” and I just knew that someone would attack there. And … someone did, just as I was recovering from chasing on. I did this to myself, I said to me. And I was ok with it. The move went and a split happened. I couldn’t cover and I had no idea who was up there or how many were 1-2s. 

I settled in with Sue, Nikki, Mary and a VA Beach woman. We picked up Michelle on the way. Kelley was with us for a bit but she was having trouble shifting due to frozen fingers. It was raining for reals and the temperature was dropping. Coming across the line, we were advised that our race was cut short by a lap. We had a nice paceline going (side note - it’s amazing to me how many people in higher categories that don’t know the basics of pacelining) and had the lead group in sight coming to the first turn. I think they saw us and accelerated. Or maybe they just accelerated. Either way, that was the last time we saw them. 

We had been working well together but once we made that first turn and the lead group was gone, one girl attacked our group and went into the wind by herself. Not sure what that was about so we let her dangle out there for a while, catching her before the end of the downhill. The wind had picked up and I was starting to lose feeling in my right thumb. Random, I know. 

There wasn’t much talking, just pedaling. We all knew we had one more lap to go and had settled into that special place you go when you’re suffering; you know there is an end but you have to get there.

I was sitting second wheel coming up to what we thought would be the bell-lap. About 50meters from the line someone on the side of the road shouts “YOU’RE FINISHING NOW!!!” The other girls hesitated a half second. I dumped two gears and stood up to get to the line first. And, I did.

The lead group had 4 women in my category, so I scored 5^th. Kelley came just behind our group to grab 9^th in our category. Funny, most races SOMEONE would get all uppity about paying for a full race and getting cut short. The general consensus was that we wish we had some more warning but THANK YOU. 

The next race was to get out of wet clothing. Riding back to the school was torture after going super hard for the finish and abruptly stopping. I left my bike where anyone could take it if they wanted, my car was left unlocked and my most valuable possession at this point was dry clothing. The girls bathroom looked like a locker room, with racers peeling out of wet layers as fast as possible. Afterward, I sat on the bench near registration with Kelley. Brittany and Dana – both smarter and warmer for not racing – tried to warm us up. I must’ve looked pretty bad; I was worried about Kelley but the EMT kept checking on me. It took a solid 45mins to stop violently shivering. The smartest thing I had done all day was to ask for late checkout. Once I could be trusted to drive, I quickly loaded up my bike (thankfully still there) and went back to the hotel for a glorious hot shower. 

Thank you to those who helped take care of the near-hypothermic riders. For me, that was Dana, Brittany and Cheryl. 

In the end, this wasn’t a race strictly on fitness or strength. 

It was all about survival.  

Ramblings on Tour of Washington County

For those that are considering boycotting ToWC and/or other races due to the lack of a women's field THIS YEAR – think of the bigger picture. Lower attendance (less of a show) will have to be explained to sponsors when asking for support in 2015. Do we want the entire race to disappear – one of only TWO stage races in the area – because one group was not included? And would that impact the other races that this club puts on? Isn’t the solution to find out why our numbers are so low and do something about it?

As for my fellow women racers – Thank you. For showing up when you can, for making me show up, for making me work harder to be better whether in races or training rides. We can’t be expected to show up at every race but we have to understand that if we don’t show up, we might not have a race next year. To have a town shut down to watch 16 racers do a cookie ride on a hot summer day is not what our sponsors want, and lets be honest, it’s really no fun for us, either. I don't want to be a part of that; I want to be duking it out with a strong field, flying through corners, chasing breaks, making moves - I don't want to be a side show for the boys!

Yes, AVC’s lack of communication is regrettable in my view, but that’s just me. Many of us understand giving a lot and feeling like you’re not getting back. One false move and the pitchforks come out; all the good you’ve done is forgotten.

I hate that I can’t do ToWC this year. I hate that this one issue has been the focus to point fingers at each other rather than a rallying cry for our community – women and men – to make some changes. I know that racing is intimidating when you’re just starting out, perhaps more so for women.  It’s mentally tough: anyone who says there’s no crying in cycling is lying. It’s physically tough – I never broke a bone until I started racing. I’ve got war wounds to show for it. AND YET I WANT TO GET BACK UP AND DO IT AGAIN- and do it better. Isn’t that the point?

The larger issue here is not whether Joe Jefferson /AVC supports women. The larger issue is the current decline in women’s race fields, the difficulty in getting new riders into race fields and what we can do about it.

My record of handing out bottles is 9 in one feed. I’ve volunteered for races that were not run by my club, I’ve promoted races, I was part of the creation of a new women’s team – a rock star team I might add – back in the day and I'm a participating member of one of the larger clubs in the area. I’ve also had many guys and gals help me, both teammates and just comrades in on the battle field – feeds, mental support, being at the hospital when I was carted off and pushing me on training rides. What I’m saying is that as much as I feel that I’ve given, I’ve gotten so much more in return.

THAT is what we need to be looking at – how can we give back. We were all newbies at one point (some a little further back than others!) and we got help from someone, some team, some significant other, some random person who wanted to help. I’m happy to be part of the solution – women’s rides, clinics, race prep. If you want to be part of the solution, lets talk!

Otherwise, please step out of the way and let us get to it.

Better Late Than Never - Monster Cross Report

Lots of catching up to do. I'll regale you with pictures and narratives about my recent 2week stint of playing so-faux-pro in Mallorca but first I have to cover Monster Cross. Yeah - me - doing a cross race - like, an "epic" one. Yeah, I just said "epic". Because, for me, it kinda was.

I had been on my CX bike quite a few times, even a couple times in the gravel. It made perfect sense that I should do a 50 mile CX race, right? As the day loomed closer I figured eh, I'll survive. The day before I thought - huh - maybe I shoulda spent some more time on the bike off-road. The morning of I thought- what the hell was I thinking?!!?

Lets make one thing clear - while there were several hundred riders "competing", I was riding the event, not racing. So the race was...well, not so much a race but a 4+ hour ride that pretty much encompassed every emotion along with a plethora of random thoughts. I'm certain I resolved world peace around mile 27 but lost the train of thought shortly thereafter when I remembered that I had a cliff bar in my pocket.

Its a mass start unless you're racing the elites, like Christine initially told me I was, which put me in a panic seeing as I've ridden my cx off road all of 3 times -ever. To my relief, I had correctly registered for the open, which put me back with the mass start. 

It was a bit chaotic getting everyone through the tight staging area but Christine, Lauren (ncvc) and I managed to stay near the back to avoid most of it. 

I kid you not, within 10 mins of the start this happened: still bunched up, two lines that were rideable. I'm in the left one chatting with Lauren, Christine is right behind. Everyone is just going with the flow until the road opens up, which is where natural separation occurs and groups form according to riding ability. Some girl decides to pass me on the left (in the gutter, where all the gravel and tree branches are) just as we were passing a spot where a tree had gone down. I hear 'on your left'. What left? There IS no left. In the split second I had to think that thought, my bike suddenly stopped and I slid out. 

The stupid girl had kicked up the debris in the gutter and threw a branch into my wheel. I came up cursing like a sailor and trying to get out of the road. She was trying to pre-emptively defend herself as Lauren and Christine were yelling at her - her excuse? "I said on your left". I told her in no uncertain terms what I thought and where to go -and to make sure I didn't catch her - as I picked myself off the ground. 

I got on the bike as quick as I could and got some frustration out. I stuck with Lauren for a while (mostly while I was pedaling out of anger) but my lack of confidence hindered me. Then I stuck with Christine for a bit and let go of that group when we hit a huge mud-pit. I got off the bike to see if I could adjust my brakes and realized I couldn't put any weight on my right knee - when I wiped out, my top tube landed just right on the knee. I had blood dripping down my right leg and my kit was all dirty. Fabulous. Christine offered the parking lot we had just passed through but I was not ready to give in - I said no, I can pedal. Actually, I'm fairly certain I probably snarled that (sorry, Christine) as I was so angry to have been injured AGAIN on the bike and AGAIN not my fault. 

Shortly thereafter I got off the bike again to try to figure out the brakes and let go of that group.Then I got over myself and turned on my iPod. I'm certain I was mumbling to myself (only out loud) working my way around turns and through the mud. The first creek crossing caught me off guard. I slammed on the brakes and got off the path, wondering what to do... Walk through? Turn back? Sit down and cry? 

Walking wasn't an option since I was injured in the fall. Turning back was like accepting failure. I had already cried so that would be redundant. A few others offered encouragement and advice as they flew through the creek. I watched a few others go through and finally ponied up. I backed up to get a running start and ... It wasn't pretty but I made it. Funny thing about creeks, they are at water level so when you come out of it, it's a kicker of a hill. And it was already torn up and muddy from other riders. And I was having a hard time pushing with my right leg so, yeah, that was terrifying fun. 

I knew there was one creek crossing- the real surprise was that there were 4 - count them - 4 creek crossings. Which I mostly discovered after flying downhill into a turn and suddenly - screech - another creek!! I proceeded along, gaining confidence (though it took me to the 4th and final creek crossing not to hesitate - I rolled through that last one like a ...well, in total fear but I did it). I had the thought around mile 30 that maybe I should have at least experienced a mud-ride or a creek-crossing before this. Maybe?

 

I made some -we're in this together -friends, exchanging random comments and twice getting directions as I was about to go the wrong way. Anyone who's ever ridden with me will know that I have never claimed to be anything but directionally challenged. 

In the end it was 4:16 or so in the saddle. I came across the finish line (read: mud pit) and the boy expressed immense surprise that I finished and a lot sooner than he thought. Sigh. I'm constantly underestimated. I couldn't walk when I got off the bike - a sprained adductor was the general consenus along with the bruised knee. Fun. 

I cleaned up the superficial damage and the knee eventually healed. Picture it this way: I was toddering like an old lady with balance issue. But, there was no way this injury - less than 10 days out from departure to beautiful Mallorca - was going to keep me down (see my next post about Zurich, the city of stairs).  

All in all, I'm kinda proud of myself for toughing it out and not being dead last (I think 12th out of 28 registered?). It'll be a while before I can honestly say I'd do it again (but between you and me, I think I might).