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.