The Gran Fondo

Yeah, that's me. It's fun to be on the Podium!

So ... it's been a while. I can't remember the last time I posted - at least a month ago? With race season over, what else could I possibly ramble about?? Well thank you for asking, I promise not to disappoint!!

I believe the most interesting thing I've done in the past month is the Jeremiah Bishop Gran Fondo. I honestly don't remember who suggested it first or how a half-dozen of us found ourselves in some parking garage that smelled like cat food in Harrisonburg, Virginia - which, incidentally, is not the best way to start a long day in the hills. The boy chose to ride with the big boys while the rest of us chose to keep it real with the "Medio" ... a meager 78 miles. Which was a shock to all of us when we hit the last pit-stop and they told us we had at least 18miles to go when we thought we had about 10. We were so shocked that we made them look again, and then made them show us the map. I'm not kidding. Remember that whole "know your route" thing ... yeah.

The ride started off with very cool temps, a very strange handwashing station outside the portajohns and a very disorganized registration line. Thankful to be out of the kitty-kibble garage, we rolled out en masse. For some reason, I thought they let the big boys (104miles) go first while we little people rolled out with our own groups. Not so. No idea how we managed it, but we all managed to find each other in the chaos and commenced to riding at a pretty nice clip. We were warned that there were essentially three "features" on our route (thank you to the boy for mini-mileage-cue-sheets for the climbs!). The first happened to be the King and Queen of the Mountain competition. Our little group of 5 separated to ride our own pace. Kelley and I kept each other honest after watching Phil ride away from us and knowing Gwenn and Tania were hot on our heels - or wheels, as it were. We came across the "finish" line nearly hand-in-hand ....only that would probably end with us on the ground given our collective coordination, so we did our best to roll across even.

No worse for the wear after that climb!

Following the K/QOM, there was a nice downhill - lots of switchbacks and ... open roads. Sigh. We rolled down pretty well until we encountered some guys who weren't keen on getting dropped on a downhill. They actually turned around, saw us and then proceeded to cut across the YELLOW LINE on a BLIND CURVE to make sure we couldn't pass. We hit the brakes and let them drift away. Idiots.


The second and third "feature" were pretty much the same climb with a short interlude in between. This was a doozy. Again, Kelley and I paced each other, took some pleasure in passing some guys, laughed at some other guys who killed themselves not to be passed by the girls and generally encouraged each other to keep up a respectable pace. I celebrated a little (with my inside voice) when we crested the top and started going down again. On that downhill, I had a lot of time to think. Hmmm... there are alot of warning signs for trucks to slow down. Oh, 9% for the next *4* miles? Wonder why I haven't seen any cars? Is Kelley still behind me - a quick turn on a straight away assured me she was keeping a safe distance behind. I could get up a lot more speed if not for these pesky turns. What's that - ah, a truck run-away ramp. Always a good sign. Ok, finally coming to a flat - whoops, nope, still down hill. At what point does a downhill become un-fun?

Anyway, we all made it down the hill and regrouped at the aforementioned last pit stop. We probably could have skipped it but it was such a gorgeous day and, well, the pitstops had Starbucks Frappachino and we couldn't turn our noses up at that!

Starbucks to keep us going. Cool.

The last leg of the ride should have been noted as a "feature" as well. First there was that gravel road. We all know my issues with hitting the deck and I don't mean to add extra obstacles to the mix. It wasn't a short stretch, either. We finally turned back onto asphalt and I swear the rest of the run-in was all hills. There was one point when Phil and I were climbing next to each other when we turned the corner and I said "Oh, now they're just being MEAN". I like to think he agreed given his silence.

FINALLY we rolled in, all classy and stuff because they announced our names as we came through the finish "gate". After congratulating each other and laughing about the adventure, we grabbed a table and settled in to wait for the boy to finish. I have to admit that I was surprised to see him rolling in very, VERY shortly thereafter ... SUPERSTAR! I believe he was, like, 7th across the line for long route. SuperAwesome!

Meanwhile, Gwenn goes to check our finish times and returns to the table announcing that we had each won. As in, we were each QOM for our respective age category. How cool is that? We each got a fantastic jersey with polka dots on the top and Prostate Awareness all over the rest. Ok, so prostate cancer isn't a laughing matter but - you have to admit that's kinda funny.

As previously posted on facebook - Polka Dot Girls!

This week begins two new "phases" for me ... first, I've committed to do the P90x program again. It did awesome things for me when I did it almost 2 years ago and after a long road race season, I'm ready for some cross training. I won't be able to do the whole program straight through because the off-season isn't long enough (remind me I said the off season wasn't long enough in, oh, February, when I'm whining about when the weather and races will start to shape up) but I'll do enough to make it count.

In lockstep with the P90x program, I've also started back on the Paleo thing. Someone I care about very much recently told me (after stepping out of swinging-range) that weight is holding me back in races. I think I took it well but said person continued to stay at least an arm's length away the rest of the evening. Anyway, the fact of the matter is that besides the gains in racing (as if there's anything worth considering beyond that...), there's enough health evidence to show benefits of cutting out sugar, grains and pretty much anything outside of responsibly raised meat, fresh veggies, some fruits and nuts and ... well, that's about it. There's an athlete-adapted version of the lifestyle that gives some leeway to accounting for the non-caveman-like needs of an endurance athlete and there are tons of Paleo/Primal/ Just eat what's good for you - kind of resources out there so ... I'm gonna give it a go.

I shoulda just stayed in bed

Yeah, it was that kind of weekend. It started out with grand plans and a massage and went down-hill from there.

Early in the week I planned to go down for the Chesapeake races - the age-graded champion crit, which looked fun last year when I watched the boy do it, and the 2nd 2012 edition of the PLTT

At my coach's advice, I scheduled a massage for Thursday - my first one in almost a year since I left Baltimore. The massage was relaxing, though not near as good as the ones I got from Yuri at Well-Being Massage Studio in Columbia, MD. Feeling somewhat rejuvenated, I start the short drive home. I'm sitting at a light in Clarendon and I notice smoke coming from somewhere in front of me and assumed it was the exhaust from the car ahead. Then the light changed and as we started moving I realized, no, smoke is still in front of me and the car is not. I hear a ding - the warning system in my car saying the engine is overheating. I look at the dial in the dash and the needle is all the way right with the red lit up. I'M GOING TO BLOW UP MY CAR IN THE MIDDLE OF CLARENDON. The panic that set into me was indescribable. So much for the stupid massage. I willed the lights to stay green and traffic to keep moving - I was less than a mile from home and I had no idea what to do. I manged to get the car home ... and now what? I begged a ride from the neighbor to get some coolant after speaking to the boy. Who knew Walgreens carried coolant but the local Exxon doesn't? I pour it in the correct reservoir and go to sleep with the hope that it solves the issue.

It didn't. I drove the car to the parking garage near work - a whole 1.5 miles away. By the time I pulled in, it was overheating. Dammit. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm lost without my car. Lost. AAA graciously came and took the car to my mechanic and I metro'd to and from work. I appreciated the metro more that day than I ever have before. I get home on Friday and hop on my bike to retrieve my fixed car. $550 later, I roll out. Relieved. Planning my trip to Chesapeake. Happy it was relatively easy.

It wasn't. By the time I got home - about 4.5miles - and pulled in the parking lot, it was dinging and smoking for me again. I pick up the phone to call the shop and - they're closed. And they don't open again until MONDAY. Reality sets in that 1) no Chesapeake racing for me and 2) I'm stranded in Clarendon all weekend. Ok, so being stranded here isn't such a bad thing but if I'm going to skip races, there are other things I need to do that, unfortunately involve a car.

At the last minute I secured a ride up to the hill climb. I wasn't going to do it but I'm winning the 35+ BAR and the girl in 2nd place was doing it so ... off I go for a 2.5 hr hitched-ride for a 5min "race". Sigh. Worrying about the weekend, I didn't get much sleep and my friend (and local strong-girl-racer) showed up right on time at 6:30am. I felt horrible and was less than enthused but humbled and grateful that someone cared enough to go out of her way to help me. Long story short, I got beat by 1 second. I was gracious to the winner - being a poor loser sucks for everyone - but I was not all that happy about my showing. My chauffeur won one race and got 3rd in another, so that was cause for cheer. All I wanted to do was go home and go to bed. 

Later that evening, my next hitched ride was on the way. Another friend willing to go out of his way to help me get down to the TT in Chesapeake, which should have been a test run before the Church Creek TT this coming weekend. Our 3 hour drive turned into an almost-epic 5.5 hour hike, complete with pouring rain at the end. And our TT bikes were on the roof of the car. We all know how I dislike my bike being in the out-of-doors unless I'm on it. And he - well, he had his DISC on the bike on the roof. Blasphemy, I tell you!

Arrive at the hotel late but another fantastic friend had already checked into our room earlier in the day and secured a roll-a-way bed for today's chauffeur. Wake up was 5:45 - the chauffeur had an alarm on his phone that shocked you out of bed. Disapprove. Free Holiday Inn Express breakfast and we were on our way. Plenty of time to warm up and I had explicit instructions from the boy on various preparations for the bike/disc wheel etc. I got in a decent warm up and made sure everything was working. I was the first rider off to go the full course (juniors and older masters did the short course). As I chatted with the holder and the chief ref I was assured that all the turns/intersections were attended by cops or road marshals. We briefly looked at the map of the revised course and it was time to go.

I had a decent start - good power numbers, solid position - I did lower my saddle just a bit and I'm not sure I should have power-wise but the upside was that I didn't feel like I was being impaled by it for an hour. I stand up off the ramp and hear my brake rub. Not ideal, but as long as I don't stand up, it should be ok. Anyway, I've got a Nickleback song in my head as it was the last song I heard on my iPod during the warm up (does everyone else do that? do you get a "theme song" for each time trial?) and I'm cruising right along, feeling pretty good about myself, despite hearing the brake rubbing every time I pedaled too hard. All seemed on track until I realize that, by this mileage, I should have taken a sharp left. I risk a glance behind me and realize there's no one in sight. I'm going fast but I'm not THAT fast. My stomach sinks as I turn around. About 2.5miles later, I encounter the missed turn, now manned by a cop. I asked "where were you when I came through here 10mins ago?" He responded with apologies, there was a mix up. I do my best not to flip out as I've got another 10 miles to go and, honestly, it's not the cop's fault. I see people in front of me and I start passing them, observing their numbers as I go by and doing the math that tells me that I'm at least 15mins off pace. I run through scenarios as to how this was going to go down with the promoters and refs as I realize that my day is shot.

I cross the line with almost 26 miles on my computer. For a 21.2miile TT. I hold back the anger and tears as I inquire as to who to talk to about course issues. I explain my plight to the ref that greets me and am given the fallback position of "It's the rider's responsibility to know the course". I'm so sick of hearing this. First, the intersection was around a blind curve. If I HAD made the turn at speed, there's a real chance that I could have been a hood ornament instead of a slightly emotional and angry racer. Second, they changed the course and hey, I just drove 5 hours to get here so it's not like I could pre-ride and/or have previous knowledge of the roads. Third - I'm paying $32 to race. What are the entry fees going toward if they can't at least put up a sign to direct the course - not to mention having someone to halt traffic on blind turns? If I wanted to memorize a course and take a solo ride, I can do that just fine with my garmin instead of paying someone for the pleasure of hearing "sorry, it's your responsibility to know the course". I know some will argue, and that's fine, but at least admit the safety issue, if not the fact that TTs are money-making ventures given that there's virtually no prize $$, medals and volunteers are cheap and this particular one didn't even have the expense of porta-johns. What exactly are we paying for?

I pull a 1:08 for my effort - extra mileage, stopping and rubbing brakes and all. I then proceed to have a complete meltdown in the parking lot. Sorry, you had to witness that, Evo friend ... Anger, sorrow, worry about what I'm going to do with the car situation, pent up anxiety given the recent streak of bad luck, disappointment in the previous day's result and the unfairness of today's result. Yeah, I won, by virtue of my one competitor not showing up. But even that didn't work out - they had already packed it in before I got my medal. Really.

Thank you to those kind and generous friends who offered to help in some way, shape or form. Thank you to Evo for the concern and encouragement (and for not freaking out when I had a meltdown). Thank you to my two chauffeurs, without whom this comedy of errors could not have occurred. I know life happens and sometimes you have to roll with the punches. I just wish my punches came in intervals - not in a barrage.

The car was towed back to the mechanics this morning and after some debate with the shop, I essentially paid half price for the eventual resolution (it wasn't the coolant reservoir, it was the cooling FAN - but I got a coolant reservoir whether I liked it or not!).

Anyone want to recommend a masseuse or masseur near the Clarendon/Rosslyn area? This stress-stuff does a number on a girl like me.

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.