TGTO- Thank Goodness That's Over!

Page Valley. It was a "blank" on my race calendar because I wasn't going to do it. I'm tired. It's been a long "comeback" season. Every weekend in the last month has been away from home, traveling to different races. An epic-type road race was just not on my list of things to do. Maybe I'd go catch up with my off-bike friends. Maybe do a little shopping, clean up the house, get my nails done or just sleep in and have a lazy, unplanned day. That did not happen. Alarms were set and we were on the road before I knew it.

Part of this is Kelley's fault. She signed up for the race - AND signed up to volunteer as well - so she was staying with me and the boy on Friday night (the drive from PA is a long one to be at the race by 10am). I like the promoter of this race and figured, eh, I can volunteer as well. Next thing you know, I'm registering to race - just in case.

Early morning set up

The boy's race was at 11am and once his race was off, we headed to the feedzone. We beat the rush and got a prime parking spot in the shade - until the sun moved. The very cool lady manning the neutral water tent was thrilled to see more volunteers and shortly after we arrived, the first field came through. As it was their first lap, things were pretty tame and most of us had to re-cap the water bottles we un-capped in anticipation of handing them out. After two laps, riders started really showing the "race" on their faces. More guys were pulling neutral water and others were jockeying to get to their specific feeder. The feedzone was on the long, uphill drag to the finish so it was slow enough that only a few feeds were dropped or missed.

Interesting commentary from the riders though the feedzone included:

(from a very young rider in the 3 field while passing up neutral water): does anyone have a bottle? no, a REAL bottle?

**my comment** if you didn't GIVE someone a bottle to hand up, don't look for someone to give you someone else's. also, don't pass up neutral water in search of something better on an 11mile course in this kind of heat**

(from another very young rider in the 3 field, as his feeders tried to get him to take water): an exasperated "i don't need water, i'm about to throw up. come on."

**my comment** feeders aren't mind readers and if you don't want water, just don't take it. no need for smart commentary**


The feedzone was almost TOO slow ... guys could basically put in orders as they were coming up the hill.  For example, SuperDave directed his feeder "no, not that one, the red one to the left in the cooler". Others were shouting - water, only! no, the green gatorade! Made me laugh and I had the opportunity to give them a hard time as they came through. Hey, a slow feedzone works both ways, boys!

First round of bottle-washing after the race

The guys were looking pretty rough and desperate as the race wound down and I was very much unexcited with the prospect of looking like that myself in a couple of hours. Big congrats to the boy, who handily scored another third place. Those guys were working it and, even if they weren't, the course was damaging in and of itself.

Fast forward to the women's race, which I talked myself into by announcing that it was going to be more like a training ride for me. The field was stacked with a strong ABRT contingent, the girls from Velocita, a couple girls from Tradewinds and plenty of other strong-girls from VA and MABRA. We rolled out all-neutral-like and kept things fairly civilized, save a few small accelerations before the climbs. ABRT gave me a little clue about the first climb so I paced myself and felt pretty good about the effort. Unfortunately, after a very short recovery in the form of a downhill and some flattish sections, we hit the right turn to the climb up to the finish. A lot of us suffered up that thing and I lost contact just past the feedzone. Once I caught my breath I started the chase. I picked up one of the Velocita's but lost her on the next hill and wound up in time trial-mode for the "flats". I happened upon Tradewinds as she was picking up a wheel and chasing back on - I was going to work "with" her but wound up sitting on her wheel as I wasn't going to kill myself to power around her only to slow her down. We caught a few more girls and they latched on as we caught the pack. I went to the middle-front in preparation for the next-go up the hill. I held on ok there - not pretty but in contact. I knew the feedzone/finish line hill would do me in, though ... and boy was I right. Just before we turned the corner to hit the feedzone, ABRT stood up and it was ON. I was not. Apparently there was some pretty good carnage at that point but all I knew was the pavement in front of me. I took a feed from the boy (thank you!) and Chuck talked me into taking a neutral water (remember, I said the feedzone was SLOW).

The boy shouted that they'd slow down and I could catch them after the hill. I knew that was rather optimistic but I settled into TT mode for the chase. I caught another Tradewinds and saw Syn-Fit, Velocita and Kelley a ways off in front of me. I asked Tradewinds if she wanted to go catch those girls and took a pull down the hill and up the next little bump. Tradewinds was nowhere in sight so I kept going but only saw Kelley in front, now - Velocita and Syn-Fit must've jumped off. It took a while but once I caught up to her we vowed to work together. Tradewinds caught up as well and we went into group survival mode. We kept a decent pace but we were clearly off the main field and that wasn't going to change. One of us mentioned the possibility of being pulled and placed - at that point, we tried not to get too excited at the prospect - yes, it was that bad.

Coming into the feedzone/finish climb, we kept it very civilized, took our respective feeds and, as we turned the corner to the finish, there was an audible sigh of relief as the ref stood in the road to signal that we'd be pulled and placed. Tradewinds heard that and nipped me at the line - I didn't care, I was relieved that we weren't going to have to suffer another round.

We all said "THANK YOU!" to the ref and as we stood at the top, gasping for breath and passing out cold towels to each other, we heard others as they made their way up. Reactions ranged from a cautiously excited "Really!?!?" to "Oh, bless you" and "Thank god".

All smiles once it was over!

We've all been there, when we're silently HOPING to get pulled just to end the suffering. If she hadn't pulled us, we would have braved the last lap but there comes a time when the effort required does more damage than good. When asked how I did, I responded that I survived.

Sometimes survival is enough for one day.

Mea Culpa (and some awesome races this weekend)

First, let me start out with the ugly - I owe many people a Mea Culpa for my outburst at the finish line today. I could make excuses and rationalizations all day long, but the fact is *I* was that jerk today. As the refs told me (when I went to apologize), they were "flabbergasted" (his words, not mine) to hear that language coming from me. I pride myself in acting responsibly and in the interest of the sport and I failed. Call it the heat of the moment, call it a temporary moment of insanity, but there's no excuse and I wouldn't let someone else slide on it so ... thereyago. No need to rehash the situation, no need to point fingers- I did it, I own it and I won't do it again. I've apologized to those I could and thank you to those who offered to vouch for me in the event the refs wanted to DQ me. I'm truly sorry for my behavior and I do hope it didn't leave a lasting impression on any of those who witnessed it.

(Deep Breath) - Okay, with that done ... Big, huge compliments to both Chris Gould and Ruth Stornetta for this weekend's awesome races. The courses were well planned, well marked and challenging. As someone who has promoted races before, I know these events never go off without a hitch or two, but, as a racer, both the Shenandoah Time Trial and the Millers School Road Race are worthy of the label "annual classics" on the calendar. If you didn't attend, you missed out!

The time trial started a touch rocky for me - as the holder let me go, the bike leaned to the right and I almost rode into the ditch. Jim Wilson - he who takes the amazing action shots that we all love to see of ourselves - captured the moment where I look either constipated or like I'm about to cry. If he were in the right spot, he would have caught another fabulous shot about two miles in where I thought I might do the latter - it's been a while since I've done a "hilly" 40k TT and I am admittedly vertically challenged (though less so than I was when I first got back on the bike). The first climb did not do me any favors but there was a bit of a reward afterward with a slight downhill before the stair-step rollers started. I knew the race was mostly up going out and, after a little kick at the turnaround, it was supposed to be very fast coming back. By the time I got to the turn around, I had passed all of my competitors so I settled in for a "fun" ride back. The part that either I wasn't told or I blocked from memory was the wall that I hit just as I was feeling good about myself for flying down the hills. I remembered how uncomfortable it is to climb on my TT bike when I came out of the saddle to make it up that hill. I got to the top, got a little reward and then - what the? - ANOTHER hill? I made it up and finally got back on the roads I recognized from the beginning of the ride. The road pitched down again and, on the last turn before the finishing stretch, I nearly took myself out by overcooking the deceptively sweeping turn. I recovered, stood on the pedals and got back up to speed for the finish. I'm happy to report that, despite myself, I managed to take the 35+ win. After a couple of challenging (read: bad for me) weekends at great races like the Franklin Omnium and Lost River, I needed that!

After waiting for the TT results, stopping to grab lunch and traveling an hour to our home for the evening - otherwise known as the Holiday Inn - we were all pretty wiped. Recovery was a little lacking, I admit, but we did get to bed at a decent hour after watching the re-runs of the swimming event. 

The boy graciously left me sleeping while he headed off to his race. I finally rolled out of bed, packed up and texted Gwenn, who was joining me for breakfast before making our way over to the course. We pulled ourselves together (after I spent a few moments with her "thumper" - get your mind out of the gutter) and navigated to our "champions breakfast".

Once we arrived to the Millers School, we sat in the feedzone to watch the boys finish - thanks to Mrs. Fuentes for trying to feed the boy in my absence but moreso for the fantastic story about the guy who tried to steal the bottle she was holding out! - and commenced to the logistics of getting numbers pinned, finding heart rate monitors, changing brake pads (thank you to the boy!) and ... where does one do nature's business when in nature without a portajohn? - I rolled down to check out the first climb and I'm glad I did. It was a harsh way to start the race but the pre-ride gave me the confidence that it WOULD end. It was nice to see a strong field as we lined up - Super C-O was there, along with the Enforcer; Kenda had a strong showing, Jeanette made a welcome appearance and the ABRT girls were there to mix it up. I knew it was going to be a tough day in the saddle. We were only doing two laps and I silently wished that we might take the first lap as a parade lap. Of course, we didn't.

ABRT drilled it up the hill and we settled into a slightly uncomfortable (for me) pace. I stayed near the front, but never on the front - remember that whole "vertically challenged thing". I never once looked back during the race so I always had the feeling that someone was going to jump around me and kill it. ABRT jumped once and we brought her back but it cost us a few bullets. A different ABRT jumped and before you knew it, she was out of sight. Gone out for a solo ride in the hills. We played around in the pack, some accelerations and some attacks, but nothing was seriously going to bring the solo rider back. We knew this because the peanut gallery on the side of the road told us so in no uncertain terms.

We charged up the hill to get the bell as we crossed the finish line. Some girls took feeds but I was focusing on breathing - as in, the effort to arrive at the top of the hill in good position had me in a tough place. Luckily, there was a fantastic downhill after the line and I was feeling pretty good about myself for making it. I also knew I only had to do that godforsaken hill one more time. There was some carnage the second time up the initial climb but aside from a few small moves, the surviving group stayed civilized. It got a little spicy as we made our way toward the finishing climb and ABRT attacked to string things out. As we made the right hand turn around 1k to go, we were all grabbing gears like our lives depended on it. I managed to hang on and passed a couple people on the way up. I even (gasp) stood up to do a slo-mo sprint for the finish. Of course, this is where the "outburst" above comes into play. Despite that, I was honestly pretty pleased with my-vertically-challenged-self as I crested the hill to the finish line.

The end result: 10th overall, 3rd in the MABRA 35+ and 2nd in the VA 30+. The ABRT ladies cleaned up with a sweep of the overall podium but there were notable finishes for quite a few of our regular rock-stars - congrats to everyone for a great weekend of races!

Things I've Learned From Cycling

As I sat on a wooden bench in the shade after the Chantilly Crit yesterday, bag of ice on my back, drenched in sweat and making a very conscious effort to keep my pre-race lunch down, I took a second to reflect on the events that brought me to this exact moment. It wasn't just the frustrating race with what felt like a dozen attempts to get away, it wasn't the extreme heat (over 110 on the tarmac before the start), it wasn't the chase to bridge a 3-girl breakaway or the final 3 lap smackdown that peaked my heart rate at 206bpm (!). The event that brought me here, girls and boys, was cycling - racing to be precise.

My entire vocabulary has changed in the 8 years since I first pinned on a number. Breaks, drafting, vO2, threshold, skinsuits, sponsorships and ominums - none of these terms held meaning back when I was a young whippersnapper - only falling short of official "fred" status because I managed to take off the visor that came with my styrofoam helmet and I didn't know yet what a camelback was. Bridging must've been a made up verb about building one. Recovery was what you did after you found yourself dancing on the bar the night before. The concept of going out in the dead of winter with hand warmers, toe warmers, fleece tights and a balaclava was nowhere in my universe. 

These days, I have to tread carefully through daily conversations with laymen - a story about how I had to change in the parking lot again (do you know how hard it is to shimmy into a skinsuit when you're already sweating?!?!) doesn't go over well and the declaration that I need to DRINK before my race doesn't hold the same connotation with the general public. 

As for yesterday, that was the day I learned to appreciate the IceSock- it kept me cool for at least a handful of the opening laps, dripping cool water from melting ice down my back. I also re-learned the value of a cold, wet towel after a hot race. A few of us, trying to keep cool under a strategically placed tent provided by the Fuentii, laughed about how we've learned to prep for these events - at least two coolers, more chairs than you think you need, extra ice, extra jugs of water, sunscreen, sunglasses and, if you are looking for real style, a big, floppy hat. Yesterday was definitely a sundress day - not just because we look cute in them but because they make it easier to change in parking lots. Oh, and I keep saying "we" ... even when you're not wearing the same kit, cycling is usually a social sport. We root for each other when we're not out-sprinting or out-climbing each other. Most of us have a kind word or two for solid competitors - nice pull, good run, awesome race for you and the biggest compliment anyone can give me (personally) - I love racing with you! We stand out in fields to give a hand up to our significant others, our teammates and sometimes their teammates (bring your own bottle, I can feed you but I'm not your supplier!). If we're lucky, we become good friends with other cyclists that we may never have met if not for the sport.

All the training, all the equipment (rollers - who knew they weren't just for long hair?), all the time, money, heart and effort we put into this sport - it's what brings us to 100+  degree race days where we share stories while we shimmy into lycra and wait for the whistle to blow so that we can throw it all down for ourselves, our friends, our teammates, our significant others and anyone else willing to sit on the sidelines and cheer for a good show. After the madness of the final lap, we find our exit from the course and sometimes only make it to the first friendly face with a bottle of water or some ice or simply a kind word. It's all a blur at that point - it's over but the effort cost everything we had to give. That is the moment where I found myself on Sunday. And I wouldn't have it any other way.