I have to admit that I had lost that lovin' feelin' (for the bike) over the past few months. A little tired of being a comeback kid, wondering why I'm suffering so much, wondering why I am spending so much time and money on this sport and wondering how it was ever "fun" in the first place. I hung up the bike, knowing full well that there was a chance I might never get back to it again.
Taking a few steps back, I got some perspective. I've figured out the madness that is bike racing sets in slowly - boundaries get pushed little by little until your life completely revolves around the sport. I don't know exactly when it happened but it definitely happened that way for me. I was having FUN and the suffering was well worth the reward. Teammates were friends, on and off the bike, and it was all for one and one for all. I realize now how unique and special that was and I wish I had appreciated it more at the time.
When the sport bites you once or twice (actually, it's usually the pavement, other riders or other bikes that do the biting but you get the point) you get fired up to go back at it harder, faster, more. I thrive on those situations - you know, the overcoming against all odds thing.
After a while, though, even that loses appeal. Overcoming WHAT exactly? After a couple of back-to-back, season-ending injuries and all the bike drama a girl can take, I had to wonder if all the suffering and re-suffering was worth it, knowing that everything can change in a millisecond and often through no fault of your own. Yes, being in the wrong place in the pack is considered your own damn fault and I take that but really - look across the start line in your next race and process that your safety is in the hands of each of those people. Scary, no?
After the TOC, I was more than a little inspired to go fast again. My first local race as a spectator was BikeJam, which didn't do anything for my whole aversion-to-crashes thing. At the end of the big-boy race, the EMT tent looked like a war-zone. Thankfully I didn't actually SEE the actual fiasco - just the aftermath.
A nice spin through Ellicott City the next day and an awesome ride up and around Mt. Weather on Memorial Day helped a lot. I was mortified to be sucking wind so badly but also started to see progress - a good motivator.
This past weekend I was a spectator at the RSR race in Va. Toward the end of the big-boy race, Jose (XO/Battley Harley) landed on the ground right in front of us. It's a small miracle that no one ran over him as he was splayed out on the pavement in the middle of the course just after the last turn. Watching the whole thing unfold, I literally felt ill - scared for Jose as riders were dodging him on the course while also revisiting the scars from my last incident. Jose is a solid, well respected and motivated rider - it can really happen to anyone. For the record, I have it on good authority that he's no worse for the wear - definitely a relief.
I've recovered quickly from bad bike incidents before but I think this last one will need more time and patience if I want to get back to racing. I will not race timid - that's a bad recipe for everyone involved.
In the meantime, I am going to get busy working on my panda-tan and getting that lovin' feelin' back.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
ATOC - The Final Days
Ok, I guess the title sounds a little more ominous than it needs to but you get the point.
I was fortunate enough to be on the back crew for the last two stages of the event. I say "fortunate" because after a couple of days on both crews, I found that I liked the hectic pace of the back more than the more leisurely pace of the front. Besides the hectic pace and being able to sleep a touch longer, the back crew also gets the chance to see all the team cars, check out rider sign in and interact with riders/crew before things get underway.
Wandering around team cars and seeing the riders was really a study of people. I don't tend to get all wound up over celebrities and I don't think that just because someone rides a bike real fast that they are good people. But watching other people nearly run over themselves or each other in order to get a pic or maybe an autograph - that was a show.
Stage 7 started and we were flying behind the caravan, cutting down signs and picking up sprint/kom markers. We had procured a bunch of sample-size jelly-belly's so I was throwing those out to the kids that were watching the race. Amazing how happy people will get over a couple of jelly beans (that said, jelly belly beans are so much more than just jelly beans!). All was going well until we pulled up to a course arrow on a sharp turn. I hung out the window to cut it down and as we pulled away, my illustrious driver cut it a little too sharp. The truck bed hit the sign, creating a vertical crease/dent. The crowd cheered as we extracted ourselves from the sign and continued on ... the damage was done but we still had a stage to finish out.
The huge climbs went slow but the descents were wicked - hair-pin turns, no guard-rails, fans on either side of the road - all of this in a pick-up truck with a ton of sandbags and random signs affecting the weight distribution. I had faith in my driver but it was still a white-knuckle run down the mountain. We made it down and our front team dutifully had the 1k blimp up and running by the time we got there.
The Tour has an "uh-oh" guy ... the guy you call when you have an uh-oh. Considering all the vehicles in the Tour and all the miles they drive at sometimes mach-speed, the uh-oh guy could conceivably keep kinda busy. Thankfully he said the damage from the sign that jumped out in front of us was pretty minor and after filling out an accident report, we were off and running for the final day of the race.
It was well known by this time that I heart Andy Schleck. Not that I totally sweat him - I just think he's so darn cute. Our team had procured a Leopard-Trek waterbottle and hat from the feedzone and it was a known fact that I had dibs. I'd give up anything else that we might have dug up, but I was all about the Leopard-Trek stuff. I mean, with Andy, Frank, Fabian and Jens all racing in the same colors, who COULDN'T like the team??
Anyway, I was lucky enough to be with a "get sh*t done" kinda friend. He put us in the path of Andy when he went up for rider-sign in. I thought we had missed him but as he went rolling past us, he stopped to talk to a ref in between the cars. The next thing I know, I have Andy signing my credentials and then I'm standing next to him for a picture. I'm well aware that we caught him right as the race was about to get underway and he probably couldn't have cared less - yes, I was probably THAT person - but I was a happy kid as I said thank you and walked away.
The race got underway and -wow- the scenery was fantastic. We had these long drags of switchbacks so we could see virtually the entire caravan. There were guys abandoning almost from the gun - I think the first one we saw was less than 5 miles in. It had been a long week for those boys. All was going well and we were coming in for the finish ... There was a course arrow pointing to the final circuit on the right so we did as we always do - my illustrious driver jumped the curb and I climb out the window to cut the sign down. Unbeknownst to us, there was a grate sticking out from the curb and right as I cut down the arrow, there was a huge sigh of air from the front passenger-side tire. Do you have any idea how much air those huge tires hold?
Again, cheers from the crowd as we pulled away and limped as far as we could to get out of the way of traffic. Unfortunately, we limped right into the middle of an intersection - that was fun. Being a rental truck, we had no idea where to FIND the jack and I've never had to winch-down a spare tire (then again, I've never had a flat in a pickup, either). A cop came to block traffic (thank you) but couldn't really help. Then a couple of guys on skateboards rolled up and offered help. Apparently the one was an expert - no, really, he worked at an auto-shop of some sort. He helped a lot and once we got the jack put together, things went swimmingly. Off we go again, with a quick call to Mr. Uh-Oh and a wave to the crowd. Our tour was over. Very fittingly, given the way it started.
I was fortunate enough to be on the back crew for the last two stages of the event. I say "fortunate" because after a couple of days on both crews, I found that I liked the hectic pace of the back more than the more leisurely pace of the front. Besides the hectic pace and being able to sleep a touch longer, the back crew also gets the chance to see all the team cars, check out rider sign in and interact with riders/crew before things get underway.
Wandering around team cars and seeing the riders was really a study of people. I don't tend to get all wound up over celebrities and I don't think that just because someone rides a bike real fast that they are good people. But watching other people nearly run over themselves or each other in order to get a pic or maybe an autograph - that was a show.
Stage 7 started and we were flying behind the caravan, cutting down signs and picking up sprint/kom markers. We had procured a bunch of sample-size jelly-belly's so I was throwing those out to the kids that were watching the race. Amazing how happy people will get over a couple of jelly beans (that said, jelly belly beans are so much more than just jelly beans!). All was going well until we pulled up to a course arrow on a sharp turn. I hung out the window to cut it down and as we pulled away, my illustrious driver cut it a little too sharp. The truck bed hit the sign, creating a vertical crease/dent. The crowd cheered as we extracted ourselves from the sign and continued on ... the damage was done but we still had a stage to finish out.
The huge climbs went slow but the descents were wicked - hair-pin turns, no guard-rails, fans on either side of the road - all of this in a pick-up truck with a ton of sandbags and random signs affecting the weight distribution. I had faith in my driver but it was still a white-knuckle run down the mountain. We made it down and our front team dutifully had the 1k blimp up and running by the time we got there.
The Tour has an "uh-oh" guy ... the guy you call when you have an uh-oh. Considering all the vehicles in the Tour and all the miles they drive at sometimes mach-speed, the uh-oh guy could conceivably keep kinda busy. Thankfully he said the damage from the sign that jumped out in front of us was pretty minor and after filling out an accident report, we were off and running for the final day of the race.
It was well known by this time that I heart Andy Schleck. Not that I totally sweat him - I just think he's so darn cute. Our team had procured a Leopard-Trek waterbottle and hat from the feedzone and it was a known fact that I had dibs. I'd give up anything else that we might have dug up, but I was all about the Leopard-Trek stuff. I mean, with Andy, Frank, Fabian and Jens all racing in the same colors, who COULDN'T like the team??
Anyway, I was lucky enough to be with a "get sh*t done" kinda friend. He put us in the path of Andy when he went up for rider-sign in. I thought we had missed him but as he went rolling past us, he stopped to talk to a ref in between the cars. The next thing I know, I have Andy signing my credentials and then I'm standing next to him for a picture. I'm well aware that we caught him right as the race was about to get underway and he probably couldn't have cared less - yes, I was probably THAT person - but I was a happy kid as I said thank you and walked away.
The race got underway and -wow- the scenery was fantastic. We had these long drags of switchbacks so we could see virtually the entire caravan. There were guys abandoning almost from the gun - I think the first one we saw was less than 5 miles in. It had been a long week for those boys. All was going well and we were coming in for the finish ... There was a course arrow pointing to the final circuit on the right so we did as we always do - my illustrious driver jumped the curb and I climb out the window to cut the sign down. Unbeknownst to us, there was a grate sticking out from the curb and right as I cut down the arrow, there was a huge sigh of air from the front passenger-side tire. Do you have any idea how much air those huge tires hold?
Again, cheers from the crowd as we pulled away and limped as far as we could to get out of the way of traffic. Unfortunately, we limped right into the middle of an intersection - that was fun. Being a rental truck, we had no idea where to FIND the jack and I've never had to winch-down a spare tire (then again, I've never had a flat in a pickup, either). A cop came to block traffic (thank you) but couldn't really help. Then a couple of guys on skateboards rolled up and offered help. Apparently the one was an expert - no, really, he worked at an auto-shop of some sort. He helped a lot and once we got the jack put together, things went swimmingly. Off we go again, with a quick call to Mr. Uh-Oh and a wave to the crowd. Our tour was over. Very fittingly, given the way it started.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
ATOC Day 6 & 7
It's been hard to find time to keep up with all that's happening during this week ... the last few days I've been up pretty early with the start crew, putting up course signs, measuring out 200m markings, putting up the feathers you see at the sprints and KOMs ... this is NOT easy work, kids!
It's well worth it, though - once we finish our respective jobs up front, we get to grab lunch, talk with the crowd, take pics and eventually see the finish come through the 1k blimp that we put up. Even though they blow by in a half-second, it's still pretty damn cool to see Andy, Chris, Jens (so sad he had to abandon), Levi and all the others who do, at the highest level possible, the thing we all love to do.
The sheer logistics it takes to put on a race like this is unbelievable. The stats from an early-race meeting included: 1,000 vehicles rented to outfit our caravan and workers. The caravan is over a mile long to include lead vehicles, motos, vip rides, team cars, police, ambulances ... and that doesn't include the 5 cars we've utilized to set up and take down signs as the race rolls through. Over 70 hotels will have hosted various members of the race organization. Two start cities even had hotels DONATE all the rooms to the race. These people absolutely love being a host city for the TOC.
Relatively speaking, after the drama of starting this year's TOC the last couple of stages have been logistically uneventful. Hiccups along the way happen but nothing major. It's kind of like organized chaos, only without real organization but everything just seems to get done in the end. Frustrating at times but very rewarding when we can help a fan or a random visitor understand the race or get to the best spot to watch.
More when I have a moment to update.
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