The Accidental Athlete

Racing Update

2011-05-15T11:13:00.000-04:00

I seem to have been neglecting my blog again. I started to update it a couple times, but everything I thought to write about seemed kind of lame, so I never finished any of those posts. In my last post, I unveiled my running race schedule, and since I've done two of those races, I guess it would be a good thing to share how they went.

The first race was the Dan Langdon Memorial 5k. It was the second annual race, started last year by Dan's family. Dan, a young man with a wife and three young kids, died on his 36th birthday in 2009 while running in the Detroit Marathon. I got involved in this race because the company I work for has sponsored the event for the past two years. Since I am in charge of administering these sponsorships, I heard about the race and decided it would be a good one to run.

I ran my first 5k in mid-June of last year, and I figured it would be a good day to go for a PR. (That "R" stands for "record," DG, not "recognizance.") Unfortunately, as it turned out, the cause was about the only thing I liked about the race. For some reason, it was at 2 in the afternoon, and happened to be on the first day we had any warm weather, after a spring full of cold temperatures and rain. The first mile went okay and I was on track to beat my best time. Shortly after I passed that mile marker, though, I began to seriously overheat. It was near 80 degrees and sunny and I was running on the cart path at a golf course. It began to be not so pretty. I became more and more frustrated, basically gave up as my pace got slower and slower, and ended up walking most of the last mile. So not only did I not beat my best time of 38:05, I ended up with a demoralizing 40:44, which was barely better than my first 5k.Ugh.

Yesterday, however, was my very first 10k, and things were a little different. The race started on Michigan Avenue in Lansing and was intended to be run primarily on the River Trail. Due to torrential rains the night before and the flooding that ensued, it had to be rerouted twice, replacing a big chunk of the course with streets and cutting off a portion of the River Trail.

It was overcast and spitting rain when I woke up and I debated whether to wear shorts or tights for a long time. I doubt if temperatures were even out of the mid 50s, but in the end I thought back to my severely overheated 5k from a couple weeks earlier and went with the shorts. While standing around waiting for the race to start, I questioned my choice, but as soon as I started running I realized I had done the right thing.

The weather was actually perfect running weather, much nicer than the previous race. I am not a very fast runner. In fact, I think you could easily say I am the opposite of fast. But I still wanted to have a goal for my first 10k, and that goal was to finish with a faster time than 1:25. I was really proud of myself. I have a Garmin watch that keeps track of my pace. I checked the watch often and whenever I started to get slower than the pace I was supposed to be keeping, I would kick it up a notch. I did this even in the last mile, when I didn't have much left. I ended up finishing with a time of 1:23:52.

Now, I'm certainly not going to win any world records with times like that, and I finished last out of 13 in my age group, but I still felt good about the race. It was an accomplishment to finish my first one and to be faster than the goal I was shooting for. I also was pleased that I didn't let myself slack off. There were times, especially near the end, when I was tempted to slow my pace and just let the fact that I finished be enough. Sometimes I use the fact that I am slow as a further excuse to be slow instead of pushing myself to be faster. Yesterday I didn't do that.

My next race is a 5k on June 5. Stay tuned.

For Real Race Schedule

2011-04-17T09:03:00.000-04:00

It's time to get serious. Seriously serious. Through the past few months of angst, I have continued running fairly consistently, but I haven't really been riding, and I certainly haven't been doing anything you could actually call training. I know I've been waffling on here about whether to just concentrate on running this year and not do any MTB racing, and maybe just using the Badger to go out and have fun. But I've decided to scrap that idea, because I'm a Capricorn and I need structure (only partly joking here). I realized I need something to train for with my bike, and if I just wait until cross season, I'm going to find my summer slipping away without putting in the miles I should be.

Besides, I haven't been around any MTB people in what feels like a really long time and I'm starting to think that's a mistake. And sure, I could just go and hang around at races, but as long as I'm going to be there, I might as well be racing. So this morning, as many of my MTB friends are gathering on the west side of the state to race Yankee, I'm figuring out both my running and MTB race schedules for the year.

Since I haven't started riding yet this year and I've really enjoyed endurance racing in the past couple of years, the schedule doesn't begin until July. It is mostly endurance racing, with a couple other races I enjoy thrown in for good measure. I may also do some CPS races, but that will depend on schedule and how I feel and those will probably be last minute decisions. I also haven't included cyclocross in here, but I'm planning to do most of the Kisscross series, at least where I don't have conflicts. For now, here's what it looks like:

July 16, 6 Hours of Ithaca (love, love, love this race)
July 30, 8 Hours of Bloomer
August 13, 6 Hours of Pando
September 3, 6 Hours of Drummond Island (this one is a definite maybe, but I'm hoping it happens b/c I've wanted to do it for a few years and it's never worked out)
October 8, 6 Hours of Addison Oaks
October 15, Peak to Peak
November 5, Iceman

And now, for running. I've figured out I'm going to do the Capital City River Run Half-Marathon for my first half marathon. It's not until September, which is a little later than I planned, but I think it's the one that makes the most sense for my first. If I'm feeling really strong, I might move it up and do an earlier one. Other than that, I'd like to do a 5k, 10k or longer race every month or so, but these are pretty tentative, since I don't really have a huge commitment to any of these races and there are 5ks all the time. If I miss one, I can always swap it out for another one the next weekend. Here's what it looks like:

May 1, Dan Langdon Memorial 5k
May 14, Heart of Michigan 10k
June 5, We Can Do It Women's 5k
July 8, Moonlit Miles for Marrow 15k
August 6, Mint City Races 10 mile
September 18, Capital City River Run Half-Marathon

Phew! That's a pretty full schedule. Guess I'd better get moving!

Moving On

2011-04-08T06:58:00.000-04:00

The past couple weeks of my life have mostly consisted of packing, moving and unpacking. Last Saturday, my skittish Brittany spaniel and I spent the first night in a new house. It's been somewhat of an ordeal for both of us. Besides the fact that moving is, at best, a huge pain in the ass, there is usually an emotional component to it as well. And this fact is probably never more true than when you're leaving others behind. In these instances, it might actually be easier to leave a spouse you hate or about whom you feel completely ambivalent. This is not the case with me. There's also the matter of a loud, ill-behaved, 40-pound beagle, who is the first dog I ever raised from a pup and bonded with completely. Six years of living with that beagle have taught me to be the one of the people I always made fun of previously—a person who treats her dog like a child. Needless to say, this has been anything but easy.

But with any new situation comes a new plan, a fresh start and optimism. I like my new digs, and after some initial reservations, Maddy seems to be warming to them, too. We have a new neighborhood and a new routine of running through that neighborhood together after work. Spring is (nearly) upon us and summer will inevitably follow. I'm hoping the lessons I've learned will make me a more productive individual in the months to come. May this be a run-my-legs off, pedal-my-ass-off, clear-out-my-emotional-baggage kind of summer. :-)

Running in Place, Sort of

2011-03-27T08:19:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, I did my fourth 5k. I started running on April 18, 2010, nearly a year ago, and since then I've been amazed at how much I've enjoyed it and that I've kept doing it.

I think I've already told the story on here of how much I hated running and how I thought I could never come to love it. But running this year has been my saving grace. Don't get me wrong—I still love to ride my bike—but my runs have done wonders for my psyche. They became my "pink shoe therapy."

That doesn't mean I don't have any goals when it comes to running, though. It isn't only my therapy. I also want to improve.

My most significant goal for running is that I want to complete a half marathon by the end of the summer. That will set me up for that pie-in-the-sky marathon goal I have next year. (Yikes!) And I am making some inroads toward that goal. Most weekends, I run eight miles, up from the mile or so I was running when I started a year ago. So that's some progress.

But I'm a little discouraged by how slow I still am. (I know. Slow on a bike, slow on foot.) My first 5k, which I ran back in June, I finished at around 42 minutes. For my second, I was significantly improved, and my finishing time was 38:05. My third, on Super Bowl Sunday, was a complete disaster. Yesterday, I was intent on beating the time of my second 5k and I missed it by 14 seconds.

What does all this mean? I can run much farther now, but I can't run any faster. I don't know if there's a way to improve both simultaneously. Maybe I should do some research.

Today I should be racing Barry-Roubaix, but I'm not. I'm sore from running yesterday, I haven't trained, my helmet is broken, I can't really afford to spend the entry fee and I need to pack because I'm moving next weekend. There are myriad excuses for why I'm not there.

But there's also a larger issue, and that's what I want to concentrate on this year. I have to decide which goals are most important to me and what my priorities should be. Should I try to run faster? Should I try to run big miles? Should I keep the running to a minimum and concentrate on bike racing? Should I just ride for fun this summer and wait until cross season to race bikes? I guess I have some thinking to do.

Done with the DNF

2011-03-19T14:48:00.000-04:00

This morning I had planned to go for a run, but that new pair of SIDIs, still sitting in the box from Christmas and newly equipped with a pair of cleats, made me head for the garage to get the Badger. I have been running for most of the winter and none of my bikes has really seen any action.

The sun was out and my ride was fairly enjoyable. I was out for a couple of hours and logged a pathetically low number of miles, but I was out at least. I felt a little sluggish because even though I have been running consistently, it just doesn't keep you in shape for the bike.

What was more significant about today's ride than anything else, though, was the moment I pulled the Badger out of the garage and looked at it. It was still covered with mud and sporting the number plate from Iceman. That's right, last fall's Iceman from hell. The race I so didn't want to finish. The race in which the mud caked my bike and sucked all the energy out of me. The race I made myself finish anyway.

When I looked at that bike I remembered how tough I am. In four years of bike racing I have had one DNF, and it was only because my bike was completely out of commission. I have faced races that were too hard, for which I was woefully unprepared, and races that were humiliating beyond comprehension. And even those I finished.

As some of you (presuming any of you are still out there) may already know, the last several months of my life have been pretty difficult. And as soon as all the logistics are worked out, the person labeled as my spouse on the sidebar of this blog will no longer be my spouse.

Given what's been going on, it's no wonder that I've been spending a lot of time wallowing. But I'm done with that now. That doesn't mean I'm finished with being sad or that I'm going to be happy every second. I am, however, done with my emotional DNF.

After all, I'm tough, as the Badger reminded me this morning.

Motivation

2010-09-21T15:57:00.000-04:00

Sometimes you just have a target on your back. Literally. And when it's a big ugly block M on a maize and blue jersey, it's particularly volatile. Unfortunately for him, but really due to his own poor choice of clothing, that's exactly what happened to this guy at the Kisscross night race a couple weeks ago.

I got to the race venue in time to ride a practice lap. It was raining and chilly—that seems to be typical race weather lately—but once I started warming up I felt pretty good and was actually glad I hadn't dressed any more warmly.

As the race began my legs were a little sluggish. I started feeling a little discouraged. I was hoping this wasn't going to be another Kisscross season like the last two. Pretty soon everyone was ahead of me. But then it happened. I saw my target. His hideous jersey was like a magnet. I had to beat that guy. No matter what else happened during the race, I just had to do it.

I finished the first lap with two goals in mind—concentrate on my dismounts and remounts and beat the guy in the U of M jersey. I started to speed up and continued my quickened pace as I moved closer to my target. My dismounts and remounts weren't perfect; some were a little premature, but the were much improved from my first cyclocross race of the season.

The dismounts and remounts are always a challenge for me. No matter how much I practice them, during a race I always panic as soon as I get to the barriers and end up just getting off the bike the regular way. During this race, however, I was almost flawless in dismounting correctly. I did get momentarily distracted during the last lap when some people I wasn't expecting started cheering for me, but other than that, I did well.

During the third lap, I finally caught up with the guy in the U of M jersey. I got a little bit ahead of him and pushed myself to stay that way for the final laps of the race.

In the end, I only beat two people, but I was really pleased with the race. I beat that Michigan guy, but not only that, I kept up the intensity for the entire race. I don't think I've done that since my first season of Kisscross.

Between this race and my 5k experiences this year, it should now be fairly obvious to me that the thing I need to do to have a successful race is to find one or more people I want to beat and spend the entire race trying to make that happen. The competitive drive and spirit motivates me and keeps me going.

This has been kind of a pathetic race season for me. I haven't done a lot of the things I intended to do, but I've also accomplished some things I never expected. The season's not quite over yet, though. I have a few things left that I want to tackle. Next I need to figure out what those things are and determine the best way to go about training for them.

Do You Have to Be Smart to Race?

2010-09-11T15:59:00.000-04:00

Last week, I rather belatedly made up my mind to race the Logsplitter. As you might know, I haven't done much racing this year. I thought it might be nice to redeem myself a little at the end of the season by squeezing in another mountain bike-ish race before Kisscross started. The race was in Grayling, which is reasonably close to our cabin, where we had already planned to spend the holiday weekend. Of course, part of the draw was the opportunity to once again hang out with some cool people, most notably this one. It was 26 miles, which I thought was doable, and I liked the fact that many of those miles weren't on singletrack.

On the morning of race day, I dragged myself out of bed to the repetitive sound of rain on the metal roof of our cabin, which seriously threatened to lull me back to sleep. After a brief stop at a local campground to pick up my cheering section (aka Mom), we headed to Hartwick Pines. It continued to rain.

By the time we got there, it had tapered off a bit. I hit the restroom while my personal pit crew prepared my bike for the race. When I returned, my bike was put together, my race number affixed, my tires aired and my chain lubed. Talk about service! I borrowed some arm warmers from Ali and a jacket from my mom, because although it had stopped raining, it was still quite chilly.

It seemed I had everything I needed, but I should have known better. As I lined up for the start, blue skies appeared to give me a false sense of security. I began the race amid cheers from Mom, Chris and Ali. My legs felt a little sluggish, but got better after I started to warm up a bit.

There were two other girls racing against me. They got ahead of me shortly after we hit the ski trail at Hartwick Pines, but I figured as long as I could keep them in sight I had a chance to catch them later. I just tried to stay close, but it was challenging. The ski trail, although not technical, was hellishly hilly. It had started to rain again and would continue to do, sometimes torrentially, for the remainder of the race.

Near the end of the ski trail, in my granny gear, I passed one of the girls on an uphill. I was feeling quite good at this point and stayed ahead of her through the rest of the ski trail and the next section of the race—the bike path.

But as I hit the two track section after the bike path, I start to slow down (and slow down and slow down). My legs didn't want to move any longer. It was taking everything I had in me to continue peddling. As I headed into a neighborhood, the next leg of the race, she was directly behind me. I was about to get passed.

By the time I reached Hanson Hills she was so far ahead I couldn't even see her anymore. I had no idea what was happening. I was actually shaking. Then I remembered. I had a package of pop tarts earlier that morning and nothing since. I had nothing but water in my bottles. And I had no food with me. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

To compound this ridiculous behavior, I decided to do something even more stupid. Instead of bailing into the parking lot as I reached Hanson Hills, I continued to the last leg of the race—10 miles of singletrack. I had my first DNF in four years of racing earlier this year and it felt like crap. I didn't want a repeat performance, so I slogged through those miles, walking something like half of them. I was spent—had no fuel left in the tank and couldn't climb even the slightest inclines.

Needless to say, I came in last place. As I crossed the finish line, all I could think about was food.

That being said, Glen, Ali and everyone else who helped put on a great race. I really enjoyed the first leg. I'd like to do it again next year, minus the bonk.

The Best of Both Worlds

2010-09-06T21:05:00.001-04:00

If you were a geeky kid like I was or had extremely young parents like I had, you might have had an experience I had when I was growing up. It didn't happen that frequently, but every once in a while, I had to choose between doing something fun with the family and doing something fun with my friends. And it was always hard, but a decision had to be made, one way or the other.

So this weekend when the worlds of friends and family collided, it was MEGA SUPER WONDERFULLY FANTASTIC. Because I didn't have to choose between hangin' out with the cool bike racin' kids and hanging out with the fam. I got to do both.

That was just part of what made this weekend memorable. Here's the rest.

The badger and ...

The Badger

Oh, yeah. That girl was around. She says I am a geek when I gush, so I won't gush, but you know she is awfully fun to hang out with.

The husband got tall? How'd that happen?

Fun with white boards

I know it looks fun, and it was, but this race was also brutal. And wet, wet, wet (and I'm not talking about the cheesy band here). (More on the race in another post)

Who Hit John? Think Old Crow Medicine Show a la Wagon Wheel.

A little anthropomorphism with a lime—he was starving for spinwheels!

Ms. B, on the other hand, was not so satisfied with the spinwheels.

The first one asleep (here Jon R.) had to deal with the glow stick pranks.

Did I mention it was wicked windy? It's a good thing Red was out with the chainsaw, because this large-ish tree was blocking the road to the Crik.

Here's the new room at the Crik. This addition is bigger than our entire cabin!

Clubbin' (at the Eagles club)

Teaching my bar mates a little francais. When I start writing on the chalkboard, it's probably time to go home.

But instead I watched the in-laws doing the Woody Twist. Classic!

Then I took a few lessons of my own, courtesy of DG. I am hopeless at dancing. :(

The last stop was the Knot Hole for that steak sandwich—the one I wish I could have every night of the week. Too bad it's a three-hour drive.

And seriously, what weekend would be complete without a beer tower? Don't even try to deny it. You know you want one.

The Reason for the Weekend

2010-08-29T14:56:00.000-04:00

Yes, it's true. Someone is still minding this blogity blog, even if all the readers have disappeared. To ease back into it, this one is going to be heavy on the pics and light on the copy.

Things have been pretty serious on the homefront lately and it's nice to have an escape. My recent refuge has been with the fabulous Ali B., who is my HERO (because she loves it when I say geeky things like that). And this weekend was her spectacular birthday celebration.

And although Ali was certainly reason enough, all kinds of bike-themed goodness was also happening in the land North of here.

First was a chance to sneak in some pre-Kisscross cyclocross racing. Before the race, I looked so excited you could barely notice the apprehension.

Seriously, we rode through this old building. This was one of the most interesting things I've done with the trusty KHS.

Yikes, I need some work on that form, not to mention that FORM. It's time for that yo-yo to hang out on the low end of the spectrum again.

But that's not going to happen if I keep eating the yummy goodness of the goat cheese fondue at North Peak.

Ali's bday night meal was so tasty, she was prompted to feed it to Glen.

Later that evening, we hit the local watering hole.

The proprietor wasn't offended when I called him Gordo. He was, however, offended by my shirt. I was representin' with the big Spartan block S, and I was ready to take one for the team and leave, because that's how loyal I am. If you don't believe it, just take a look at my pic from back in the day.

Di was hangin' with the crew, too. To find out what super secret thing Di and I both did that was extremely out of character for me, go here.

Anyone Hungry? This guy was. Umm ... is.

And he was digging meeting the spectacular bday girl.

Saturday, three starving girls found some seats on the patio of the Blue Tractor to satisfy the urge for food and race spectating. Fabulousness ensued. One of its manifestations was the crab/bacon/scallion mac and cheese.

In between races, Ali did some posing. Anyone want one of these jackets? I'm thinking about the faux denim version.

And what wardrobe would be complete without this number? As you can see, Di is considering one of her very own.

These guys are far braver than me. Crits are fun to watch, but racing them? No way.

But the most fun race of all? The Commuter Crit. The basics: 1) 4-person relay teams 2) no clipless pedals 3) some theme for your team, complete with costumes 4) must have a basket to do a cherry pie handoff when switching riders. Fun stuff. We are in for this one next year!

A little Michigan stargazing. Turns out the race announcers had their own team in the Commuter Crit, with the third leg raced by the famous guy on the left. That's Frankie, and yes, I spent some time gawking. If you don't recognize him, you probably haven't watched much TdF coverage. He's a homegrown Michigan boy and he's a rock star. Surprisingly enough, this secret weapon wasn't enough to make his team pull off a win, although he gave the winners a run for their money.

All in all, it was a great weekend in the North and it looks like it may not be quite finished. Here's what may be on tap for next weekend.

I Don't Know What My Problem Is

2010-08-10T06:54:00.000-04:00

Seriously. I just can't seem to make myself update my blog. I had a super fun weekend up North, ran another 5K, raced an actual mountain bike race. And I just can't seem to make my lazy go away for long enough to write about any of those things. Maybe soon.

Road Rode or Rode Road

2010-07-11T11:53:00.001-04:00

Early this week I talked to my mom on the phone. She asked me what I was doing this weekend and suggested I come down and do One Helluva Ride with her on Saturday. The distance planned was 64 miles. My first thought was "absolutely not." After all, I'd been on my road bike for a total of 16 miles this season. Still, I told her I'd think about it.

By Thursday morning, I was sending her a text saying I was in. You see, there were a couple of factors working here. The first is that it's hard to say no to my mom, particularly when something seems important to her. The other thing, which I'm only just experiencing now that I'm closer to 40 than 30, is that I'm much more likely to think I can do something than to think I can't.

When the hell did that happen, anyway? I know I ponder this whole Accidental Athlete phenomenon a lot, but it still sometimes blows my mind. Ten years ago, I wouldn't have imagined I could ride my bike 10 miles, let alone 64. Now I'm always convinced I can do it—it's just a matter of how long it will take me and how painful it will be.

We got a bit later of a start than I wanted, but we were out on the road by 8:30 or so. Surprisingly, the first 10 miles felt pretty good, despite the fact that I was completely confused anytime I tried to brake. I kept thinking "where the hell are my brakes?" and then "oh yeah, they're down here." We were averaging over 14 miles an hour, which considering how little time I've spent on my road bike lately, seemed pretty fast.

The first rest stop was about 13 miles into the ride. I stopped because I was planning on taking it a bit easy, and because I have this annoying foot thing when I'm on my road bike which necessitates me taking my shoes off every 12-15 miles or so. Otherwise, the pain becomes excruciating.

I ended up having to stop at the side of the road for my feet about six miles before the lunch stop, which was at 39 miles. Lunch was good and I was ready for a break. With 25 miles left, My legs were still feeling reasonably fresh and though we had slowed down a bit, we were still averaging above 13 mph.

Everything changed when we got back on the road. It suddenly felt much hotter, the road conditions seemed much worse and my legs felt like lead. Not only that, but the course got much uglier, and spent quite a bit of time paralleling I-94. Yuck!

Even so, we were still clicking off miles and getting closer and closer to the finish line. Remarkably, I was able to keep the speed up despite completely cooking in the sun. After two more rest stops for my feet we finally made it. The ride that I thought was going to take close to six hours ended up taking less than five. That made me feel pretty good.

The rest of the day was spent somewhat exhausted hanging out in the shady backyard at my parents' house with the family, watching the dogs and kids chase each other. I was definitely tired, but I think the heat took more out of me than anything else. I was actually able to go for a run this morning and my legs don't even hurt. I must be tough or something. :)

Accidental Gets Intentional, Part 2

2010-07-08T20:48:00.000-04:00

Many months ago, when we last left our fearless heroine, she was running a 5K. Okay, so it was only weeks ago, not months, but it might has well have been months. At any rate, on to the second mile ...

Once I slowed down a bit, my breathing became more regulated. I was still pushing myself at a pace faster than my usual, but I was not going all out. Despite the heat, I wasn't feeling nearly as bad as I expected. Still, I decided I needed a little extra push, so I picked out two women who were slightly ahead of me I wanted to beat and made that my next goal.

Competition #1 had passed me just across the starting line and had steadily kept up a pace that left her marginally ahead of me. She was a couple years older than me and quite a bit bigger. I convinced myself I could beat her.

My next target was chosen out of pure spite. Youngish, cute and skinny, Competition #2 might have had a bullseye painted on her back. On top of that, she was wearing yoga pants, which I thought was ludicrous considering the weather. The nail in her coffin was the fact that she was alternating periods of running really fast with periods of slow walking. She would pass me when she was running and I would pass her when she was walking, which I just found really annoying.

I sped up a bit and finally passed Competition #1. Competition #2 remained elusive. Finally I hit the two-mile mark. My time was still looking on target, but I had already decided I was going to go pretty much all out for the last mile. After a bit I finally passed Competition #2 for the last time. As I rounded the back side of the pond, I knew I would make my time goal and my goal of beating #1 and #2. When I neared the finish line, I realized I could not only finish faster than a time of 42 minutes, I had a chance of finishing faster than 41 minutes. So, I gave it everything I could and crossed the line at 40:55.

My coworker Katie (with me above) was cheering me on at the finish line. She and her husband finished at about 32 minutes, three minutes faster than their goal.

This experience was such a rush. I never imagined I could possibly enjoy running as much as I have. I'm tentatively planning that my next 5K will be on August 1. (I may try to squeeze one more in before that.) I'd like to take at least another couple minutes off my time for that race, because I want to do this race at the end of August and for that I have an even loftier goal.

Accidental Gets Intentional, Part 1

2010-06-20T14:44:00.000-04:00

(This is the first race report I've ever written that doesn't involve a bike. That seems crazy!)

Friday was full of turmoil for me. I had more nervousness leading up to this 5k than I imagined could be possible. I'm always nervous before a bike race, but nothing like this.

The day was complicated by the fact that I had only two acceptable pairs of shorts to wear—one was missing and the other was in a sweaty wad in the clothes hamper. I discovered this, not the night before, as I should have done, but that morning when it was nearly time to leave for work.

After frantically throwing a load of wash in the washing machine, I headed to work. My husband doesn't work on Fridays, so I sent him a text asking him to put the clothes in the dryer when he woke up, and asked that he also send me a text to let me know that it had been done.

By 9 a.m. I was experiencing what I like to call the "nervous stomach." It's something I like to affectionately blame on my late grandmother, who was my favorite person ever. She always had it, and somehow passed it along to me. It consists of a feeling that my stomach is being tied in knots by some unexplainable, extremely strong force. It happens whenever I am really anxious about something and it pretty much stuck around all day.

I had a hard time concentrating on anything. By 1 p.m. I still hadn't heard back from my husband, so I started calling him. I called him once every half hour or so until 2:30 without reaching him. That's when I finally left the office and went home to check on my shorts.

When I got there, I found him sitting next to the phone, which he had chosen not to answer. His explanation for not texting me back was that "if you send me a text and ask me to do something you should know I'm going to do it." I won't go into the nightmare of recriminations that followed that statement, but suffice it to say that I was now in an even worse frame of mind. At least I had my shorts, though.

My next disaster was that I forgot to make a new playlist for my MP3 player. All the playlists I had were only about 20 minutes long, and normally when I'm running I have to stop and switch to another playlist when one finishes. That clearly wasn't something I wanted to do during a race. After exploring all my options, I realized I was just going to have to do a "play all," which would not only play all the songs from my playlists, but all the songs on all the albums, in alpha order, no less. It was certainly not ideal, but I figured it was better than no music. Of course, once the race started, I realized there were several horrible songs preloaded onto my MP3 player that I never deleted, and of course, as fate would have it, I had to listen to all of those.

I arrived at the race venue with about an hour and a half to spare. I spent that time drinking water, talking with some friends, picking up my registration packet and thinking seriously about bailing. A last minute phone call to my mom and an encouraging text from the Dorktor helped a bit and were enough to get me to the start line.

Once the horn sounded and the race started, I felt phenomenal and excited. It was in the upper 80s and muggy as hell. I went out too fast, which I realized pretty early since my breathing was all messed up. I slowed down a bit, but still kept pushing. Once I hit the first mile marker, I looked at my watch. I figured I would have run 14-minute miles or faster to meet my goal. When I looked down, my watch read 12:49. So far, so good.

To be continued (in another ridiculously long post) ...

42

2010-06-16T21:49:00.000-04:00

That's the magic number. Yes, I do realize that's a 14-minute mile, which is painfully slow (nothing like a 4-minute mile). So far, the fastest I've run three miles has been 46 something, and most often it has been closer to 54. That being said, my goal of 42 minutes might be a bit ambitious. But if I don't push myself, I will never get any better. This is something that has been painfully obvious during my adventures in bike racing. And for some reason, I want to push myself at running more than I have wanted to push myself at anything in a long time.

The test comes the day after tomorrow. Wish me luck!

Double Stuff Minus the Oreos

2010-06-14T21:09:00.000-04:00

So, every now and again I decide to visit this blog and write a post. Today is that auspicious day out of the last two weeks when I finally got around to it.

Since I've been absent, I've continued my running adventures. I'm still slow, but not quite as slow, and it continues to be enjoyable. I went quite a while without riding much at all, but thankfully, that has been corrected in the last couple of weeks. Lately I've been riding at least three or four days a week. I'm running about five days a week, though, and needless to say, there are only seven days in said week. As a result, I find myself doubling my efforts many nights—starting out with a run, then changing into riding clothes and hitting the trail before dark.

Surprisingly enough, I'm not only surviving this—I'm relishing it.

Now, about the racing. Those of you who are observant and who are still out there may have noticed that I have now missed four (count them) races on my racing schedule. Some of you may wonder if I am ever going to race again. The answer is a resounding "yes."

In fact, I'll be competing in a race this very Friday at 7 p.m. Now here's the surprising part. It's a running-type race, namely a 5K. I think I must be crazy.

I have a goal in mind for this race. I think it will allow me to push myself but should still be within my reach. And I think I will actually share that goal on my blog, even though I am embarrassed to admit how slow I am. Not tonight, though.

Oh, and by the way, there's an actual bike race on the horizon, too.

That Was a Crazy Game of Poker

2010-05-23T13:46:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was the Mid-state Poker Run. And as with any gathering of mountain bikers, beer was present and hijinks ensued. We got there a bit late and I was pretty sure I wasn't going to do the actual poker run, but just hang out for a while.

So I ate a fabulous burger from the grill. Then I watched Chris M. put together a bike for his kid while Jon W9 supervised.

Then I watched Chris' super cute kid ride his new bike which, incidentally, had the fork on backwards. At that point, I started to feel a little guilty about the fact that I hadn't done the poker run. After all, it was a perfect opportunity to finally ride my bike after an extended hiatus. Low key, no pressure. All I had to do was get motivated to change my clothes and get on my bike.

So I did. And it felt very good to get back on the bike. So good, in fact, that I almost forgot all about the poker run.

That was, until I saw the first sign.

The trail was a little sloppy from the rain and I had a few mishaps, but I persevered.

And then I collected numbers from stations 2 and 3.

Just two more to go. Then I looked at the time. Oops. It was 15 minutes after the poker run was supposed to end.

So it was back to the tent for some super SWAG!

Thanks to Jon, there were some big time prizes.

The Badger was ready to rest.

And there was much hilarity to witness.

Someone had obviously been drinking a bit of this.

Life imitated art.

The charred remains of a few hot dogs were all that was left.

Bottom line: The Mid-state Poker Run was a good time and I definitely need to spend more time on my bike.

Four-Minute Mile

2010-05-18T20:16:00.001-04:00

So, when I was about 15, I had this boyfriend named Tony. Despite the fact that he was a pathological liar, I thought he was really cool. After all, he played the guitar and had longish hair, a maltese cross earring and a motorcycle. But about these lies. They were ridiculous and seemed to have no purpose. I believed most of them because I was extremely gullible, and I wanted him to be for real.

One of the crazy lies he told me was that he could run a four-minute mile. I believed him. Of course, at the time, I had no idea how fast a four-minute mile was. Now I do.

While I'm sitting here waxing nostalgic about losers I've dated, I am actually getting to a point, and this story will be loosely tied in somewhere.

The thing is, I've been running, see, which I already admitted. Up until last week, I was just going out and running for 20 minutes. I had no idea how far I was running. But I've stepped things up a bit since I've decided to run a 5K.

The fateful day is June 18. It's funny that I never would have ever imagined myself running a race. Somehow, though, now that I've raced my bike so many times, racing in another sport doesn't seem like such a leap.

So, for my past couple of runs, I have concentrated on running continuously for three miles. Turns out I can do it, just not fast. In fact, I am absolutely nowhere near a four-minute mile. But at least now I know how fast a four-minute mile is.

How (not) fast am I? I might tell you in my next post. Then again, I might not.

Pinkety Pink

2010-05-12T21:46:00.005-04:00

As all four of my loyal readers have no doubt already figured out, I recently began RUNNING. That's right, RUNNING.

I have to explain my history with running. When I was a kid, my parents were runners. They ran all the time. They actually ran marathons. And as you may know from your own experience, when your parents are passionate about something, it can get rather annoying, particularly if they want you to get your roly poly arse off the couch to do it as well. As any of you who have read my Accidental Athlete post will be able to figure out, I rebelled against this idea and instead spent all my free time with my nose in a book. In fact, the more they talked about running and tried to get me to run, the more I dug my heels in.

Needless to say, I have subsequently had a somewhat unfair hatred of running. But since, for the most part, I'm a reasonable human being, I spent quite a bit of time examining this issue so I could look at running in a way that's not jaded by my past experiences. And I ultimately came to the conclusion that running is a smart option for me. Here's some of what went into that decision:

Everyone else is doing it—That might not always be the best criteria for making a decision. However, in this case, I think it's okay. A lot of cyclists I know personally or through the blogosphere have taken up running for cross training purposes and it seems to be working well for them. Alaska Jill has been known to do it. Fat Cyclist has taken it up. Even those a little closer to home like Ali and Marty have been doing it.
It's good exercise—This isn't actually my first foray into running. Several years ago, when one of my friends took charge of my training plan, he suggested I try it, the reason being that it's better for burning calories than riding. That way, when I was riding I could concentrate on my riding skills and actual training, rather than having to rely on it for exercise. And I have to say, during this time I was probably in the best shape I've ever been.
Running is efficient—I've often felt jealous of my friend the Dorktor. He's a runner, see, and in less than an hour he can be out the door, run seven miles or so and be finished. I don't know how many times I've opted not to do ANY exercise because I knew I didn't have time to load up my bike, drive to a trail and ride.
Variety is the spice of life—Cliched, but true nonetheless.

So, at this point I have been running for three and a half weeks and it's the only thing I've really been doing consistently (gasp!). It's about time for a progress report and some goal setting. That doesn't mean this is going to turn into a running blog, but the topic will figure prominently in some upcoming posts.

I Like My Blog a Lot. Really.

2010-05-09T22:05:00.001-04:00

It might really seem, from the way I've been neglecting my blog over the last several months, that I don't like my blog or my blog readers very much. In fact, the opposite is true. I enjoy having a blog. I like being able to write about anything I want, or at least anything I feel comfortable posting on the Internet. I like the fact that I can talk about topics on my blog that those who see me on a daily basis are sick of hearing about. I like that I can't really tell if my blog readers are tuning me out, like I can so easily with my husband. I like the conversations I have with people through my blog. There are some extremely cool people I probably wouldn't even know without this blog. I also like using it as a reference for myself and a way to jog my memory about past events.

That's a lot of things to like. Still, I haven't been updating it, which is the understatement of the year. One thing I have struggled with a lot lately is knowing what to write about and what not to write about. For example, lately I haven't been doing much that's bike-related, and that's supposed to be the main thrust of my blog. So, how far do I stray from the bike topic? What can I justify?

The other problem is that I've been on an emotional rollercoaster in recent weeks. I've been rethinking all my goals and plans, as well as reevaluating my life and my direction in general. I've also had a lot of upheaval and have discovered some things about myself that were not exactly a good surprise. Needless to say, I've been wallowing. A lot. I'm not a fun person to be around right now, and I don't want my blog to be a huge downer for the handful of readers I may or may not have left.

But now that I've thought about all that, I've come to the conclusion that I'm really overthinking things. Maybe I should just post what I feel like posting and let the rest take care of itself. So, I'm going to try to start posting at least three times a week from this point forward. That will be my goal.

But since I've just returned from my annual trip to Key West, I'm going to start with a few photos from the trip. (Nothing new here for those who have looked at my photos on Facebook already. Sorry.)

Beach near our hotel

Yacht my husband coveted docked near the Westin

View of Key West airport from the tarmac

Our awesome buddy Ben, the coolest guitar player in Key West and beyond

Mallory Square

Looking at boats near the Galleon

Ben with "old" Taylor and "new" Taylor

Pelican

Manatee mailbox

Hangin' with Ben at the Whistle

Everyone Else is Doing It

2010-04-18T13:32:00.000-04:00

Why not me?

P.S. Don't make fun of my pink shoes. I hate pink.

About Face

2010-04-17T20:24:00.000-04:00

I know the time between my posts has gotten longer and longer. I won't say I'll be better, because I'm not sure I will, but I'll try.

If there is anyone out there still reading this sporadically updated blog, they will probably be surprised by a couple of the decisions I made sometime between Thursday night and Friday afternoon. I think they can safely be described as peculiar. Tonight I'm only going to mention one of them, because everyone loves a cliffhanger, but I will try to get around to the others fairly soon.

So, tonight's topic is the Yankee Springs Time Trial, which I have decided not to race. My reasons for not racing are plentiful and complicated. Some of them are well-reasoned, focused and valid; others are kind of lame. I won't go into them all now—maybe not later, either. Suffice it to say that I'm reevaluating everything.

Quite a few of my teammates are planning to race, and I wish them all luck!

Ghosts of Races Past

2010-04-06T06:59:00.000-04:00

It looks to me like there's a ghost gliding across this photo I took at Yankee Springs on Saturday. It might just be a smudge on my camera. I don't know.

Regardless, for someone like me who is constantly moving one step forward and two steps back, never making any real, permanent progress, there's always going to be something haunting me. This year, it's the memory of what I was at the beginning of the last race season—strong and fast (relatively speaking). Those first two races, Barry-Roubaix and Yankee Springs, were such successes for me that racing them this year, knowing how much worse I will do, is pure torment. Still, not racing them would be worse, so I'm plowing ahead.

Saturday I went out to Yankee to pre-ride the course and try to assess where I am. Surprisingly, it didn't turn out to be that bad. Knowing that I was so slow in 2008 for my first Yankee, and that I was much faster last year, I was hoping to fall somewhere in between the two, and that's exactly what happened.

I was running about 10 minutes slower than my race time last year, but I also forgot my watch, so I was going just on straight riding time from my computer, and I probably need to add at least a few minutes to it. My plan is to go back on Saturday and try to get in one more ride of it some evening next week. Last year, my times kept improving with each time I pre-rode it and even more so during the actual race, so I'm hoping that happens again.

I remember riding this course before Iceman last year and just completely struggling, barely making it to the end. I expected to feel like that on Saturday, and although I was tired and I did end up walking some of the later hills, I really felt much better than I anticipated.

There's a no-drop group going out from Yankee at 11 that Danielle is leading. Some of my team, organized by Jake, also seem to be doing a group ride of Yankee on Saturday. I haven't figured out what I'm going to do yet, but right now, I feel like just being by myself and struggling on my own with no one to witness it, so maybe I'll go out really early. At any rate, I'm eager to see what happens.

Surprise Me!

2010-04-03T16:08:00.000-04:00

Yesterday after work, I went out to ride at Burchfield. Normally, we don't go anywhere near it this early in the season, but I had heard a rumor that due to the unseasonably warm, dry weather, it was pretty rideable. I was itching to get back on a real trail, so I skipped out of work a bit early and headed out there.

Once at Burchfield, I was treated to a few surprises:

Surprise #1—The trail was indeed dry! I'll admit I was a bit skeptical. A lot of the trails at Burchfield are so low lying and close to the river that it's usually quite wet until late in the spring. This was definitely a good surprise.

Surprise #2—Someone has been doing quite a bit of work at Burchfield. There were some brand new bridges to replace some of the decrepit ones and even some gravel and drainage pipes in place of what used to be muddy quagmire for most of the year. Nice!

Surprise #3—No matter how burned out I get on a trail, spending a winter riding nothing but the trainer and the River Trail will pretty much cure it. Burchfield is amazingly fun again.

Surprise #4—My Fat Cyclist water bottle looks really sweet on the Badger. See?

Surprise #5—Did you ever catch a leaf in your front tire when you were riding? It makes a really annoying noise and you can't really reach it to pull it out. It always happens to me when I have some good speed and momentum going and I don't want to stop to remove it. I always wish it would just fall out on its own and yesterday, this actually happened. Such a small thing, but so satisfying.

Surprise #6—That incredibly non-sketchy downhill still inexplicably scares the crap out of me, but I keep riding down it to try and cure myself.

Surprise #7—I still completely love, for reasons I have yet to understand, this little section of trail that goes behind Heron Pond.

There's a First Time for Everything

2010-03-31T16:29:00.002-04:00

My bike was ready, or so I thought ...

Maybe it was when I was struggling up that first hill thinking "I was sure my cross bike had a triple" that I realized the race wasn't just going to be a disaster—it was going to be a monumental train wreck.

Everything started out okay. I didn't do as much preparation as I intended to, and I certainly wasn't in shape, but at least I got my bike into the shop ahead of time to have it checked over and have the brake pads replaced. I may not have been ready, but at least my bike was. Or so I thought ...

I planned to take the bike out for a spin after picking it up from the shop to make sure everything felt okay, but I never quite got around to it. That was my first mistake.

The line for the port-a-potties was out of control.

My second was how I dressed. I was freezing before the race, and I started with two pairs of gloves, a balaclava, base layer with short-sleeved jersey, tights, bike shorts and a warmish jacket. I can never really get it through my head that if I am warm enough at the start line I will probably be far too warm during the race. Intellectually, I know it's true, but it's hard to make myself follow those rules when my fingers feel like they're about to fall off.

Luckily, Jack saved the day by offering to take some of my extra clothes back to the finish line and drop them off for me. I don't think that was cheating.

It didn't take long for me to realize that my front brake was rubbing horribly. I was already out of the shape and the brake issue clearly wasn't helping. Everyone was passing me.

Soon I was all by myself in that place where I am so used to being, and my battle with myself began. I thought about grabbing a ride in one of the numerous SAG vehicles that passed me. I had myself nearly convinced to just do the beginner loop of 23 miles instead of the longer Sport loop.

I figured out the disposable timing tag thing out without too much trouble, not that I really needed it.

But if there's one thing I have going for me with racing, it's resolve. I finish. No matter how slow I am, no matter what obstacles I encounter, I just haven't been able to make myself give up. I thought about how I would feel, even if I finished, about only doing the beginner race. And I realized that yet again, barring any major mechanical or significant injury, I would remain on the sport/expert loop. And that's when everything went to hell.

As I would find out later, my brake was not only rubbing, it was rubbing on my tire. That eventually caused me to flat, and as luck would have it, I had also forgotten my seat bag with all my supplies for fixing a flat. After about 40 minutes of pushing my bike down the road I finally caught up with the SAG, but not before my run in with the law. You see, a guy from the local sheriff's department, presumably disgruntled from having to spend his Saturday directing traffic not to hit racers at the busier intersections along the course, took issue with me pushing my bike on the shoulder. That's right—he actually chastised me for pushing my bike down the side of the road. The conversation went something like this:

Fuzz (sporting surly, disapproving smirk): Do you need something?

Me (looking quizzical): Nope. I'm just trying to find the SAG. My bike's out of commission and I'm not going to be able to finish the race.

Fuzz (dismissively): Well, you're going to have to get out of sight. You're distracting the drivers.

Me (downright dumfounded): Really?

Lobster bisque saves the day!

But all was not lost, and thanks to some fun conversation from the witty volunteers who brought me back in the SAG, my spirits were quite a bit higher when I arrived at the finish line. Then, lo and behold, I ran into the way cool Ali B., who invited me to eat with her and some other folks at an interesting place called "The Bib." In addition to a strange mix of ceiling and bathroom art, there was good company and tasty food. The labels on the bathroom doors caused some momentary consternation, though. At one point, I was unsure about whether or not to enter the door marked "Gulls." It was all made clear when I spotted the other door, marked "Buoys."

Ali and Glen pondered a photo of some racy artwork from the men's (sorry, buoys) restroom.

By the way, for those of you who didn't realize it, this was my first DNF. Ever. But it was a brilliant recovery, all things considered.

Up, Up and Away

2010-03-16T06:58:00.000-04:00

Normally, when it gets just a bit out of control, I talk about it on my blog. When it gets this bad, I don't usually say much of anything about it on my blog, because there is just so much public (well, seven people is kind of public) self-flagellation I can take. Even now, I'm thinking about those very occasional readers to my blog in front of whom I might not want to lay this information bare. But, as they say, desperate times call for desperate measures, and now, as I find myself less than two weeks away from my first race, I seem to have hit rock bottom.

Seriously, I've been doing the "I just bought these pants, why are they tight" thing lately, so this morning I decided to weigh myself again. It's been 12 days since I last did it and that time, although the number seemed like kind of a lot, it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be.

However, this morning, when I stepped on that scale I was six pounds heavier than I was 12 days ago! Not to mention the fact that I am a measly nine pounds less than my heaviest weight ever. Hopefully, this will be the wake up call I really need. The one that says "Hey, Andrea, if you want to continue to hang out with the Dorktor and his wife, you need get things under control." The one that says, "Eating pizza three times a week just because the Dorktor is obsessed with pizza is probably a really bad idea." The one that says, "Having cocktails five nights a week (even if it's only a couple cocktails on three of those five nights) is a really counterproductive practice." And lastly, the one that says "If you're going to stay up late, you need to control it enough that you can actually train more than sporadically."

In short, it's time to grow the hell up before things get even more out of hand. I'm so mad at myself right now that I'm seriously considering posting my actual weight up here for all seven people to see. But not quite.

Beyond the Ride Recap

2010-03-11T12:59:00.000-05:00

Anne had her clinic last night, and I think it was a resounding success. We had 12 attendees for the presentation. Anne did a fantastic job. She is so knowledgeable and everyone seemed genuinely interested and learned a lot. For the most part, I think we also got the demographic we were aiming for, which was the extreme beginner.

Near the end of the presentation, I did my "Accidental Athlete" spiel. Again, people seemed to be interested. I decided to do it off the cuff and not prepare too much and I think that was wise. Sometimes if I am too prepared I tend to come across as stilted and I thought it was more natural than that. Not to pat myself on the back too much, but I was amazed to discover how used to (and not nervous about) public speaking I've become since I got the job I have now and started to do it so much more frequently. Granted, it was only 12 people, but this is the kind of thing that would have seriously frightened me a few years ago. (By the way, I know I look all gangsta in the photo and I don't know what I was doing with my hand, but I swear I wasn't grabbing my crotch.)

Here are a few more pics of the event:

Ever read the book Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston? Well, I did, and that title is all I can think of when I look at this picture. I must have been waxing poetic or something.

Thanks to everyone who came out! It was fun.

Tonight's the Night!

2010-03-10T06:54:00.002-05:00

Anne's clinic is this evening at 6 p.m. Details here. Tell your friends!

Riding With the Dorktor

2010-03-07T10:31:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was a beautiful day for a ride. I ended up down in Jackson on the Falling Water Trail. It was a bit crowded for my liking, but it's nice sometimes to not have to worry about finding a route, traffic, getting lost, etc. And for early spring when mountain bike trails aren't really an option, I've found a bike path is a godsend. If you're with another person, it's also nice to be able to ride two abreast and talk while you're riding, which is something I don't feel very comfortable doing on the road.

As it turned out, I was riding with someone yesterday. It happened to be my first time riding with our friend David. He's an eye doctor and I like to call him "the dorktor." The dorktor is a runner and is in pretty good shape, so I knew he wouldn't have any trouble keeping up with me. I did, however, have to give him a list of things (e.g., buy a helmet, remove his kickstand) he had to do before I would ride with him. As you can see, I didn't hold him to the helmet thing. After he begged me to let him ride with me, I gave in out of pity, but let him know in no uncertain terms that I wouldn't ignore the helmet rule for long.

It was really pleasant to ride with someone else for a change. I haven't ridden with another person since the fall and it gets boring to just have yourself for company after a while, particularly when your dog has eaten your MP3 player. The other thing that I'm kind of ashamed to admit is that it's fun to ride and talk about bike stuff with someone who doesn't really know much about bikes, bike gear and riding. I'm always around people who know far more about this kind of stuff than I do and it feels good to be the expert for a change.

We ended up with about 25 miles, which is the longest ride I've done in a while. I felt pretty good, but I'm certainly not in the shape I was last year at this time, which concerns me a bit since it's only three weeks until Barry-Roubaix.

Will the Real Me Please Stand Up?

2010-03-05T18:54:00.000-05:00

You may remember earlier this winter when I was lamenting our lack of snow. I also commented that I thought it strange that I was wishing for snow. After all, that's not the way I usually operate in the winter. A lot of times I wish for as little snow as possible. But due to an inspiring trip to Colorado and some new outdoor equipment, I was acting not so much like me.

But that was then. This week, something strange happened. The sun appeared, and reappeared for several days running. It was almost spooky. I spend a lot of time starving for the sun in the winter and I couldn't believe it was actually here and that it stuck around.

Something happened when I saw that sun, though. Not the first time I saw it, but sometime during one of the subsequent days of sunshine. I started wishing that all that snow piled up around town would disappear and that it would get warm. I suddenly wanted to put away my trainer for months and months and ride outside. In the sun. In a short-sleeved jersey.

The forecast tomorrow is calling for mid-40s and sunny. It seems like a perfect time to get outside on my bike. Forget the skis.

Brave? Not So Much

2010-03-03T07:23:00.000-05:00

A couple weeks ago I finally registered for Barry-Roubaix. Yes, that Barry-Roubaix, the Killer Gravel Road Race. Last year, if you'll recall, I decided to do this race not at the last minute, but close. I registered on-site and then I went out and smoked the competition. Okay, well maybe the phrase "smoking the competition" is strong. But it was definitely the best race of my racing career. I ended up beating all the beginner women and something like 18 beginner men. I definitely felt triumphant.

I think there were three main factors that went into having such a successful race:

I had trained a lot over the winter.
Once I saw myself passing people and being successful, I stepped up my game even more because I was determined to do even better.
That race is truly the perfect format for me. There's nothing sketchy or dangerous on the course, so all I have to worry about is riding.

Needless to say, registering for the race again this year was a no brainer. Where my indecision came in was in knowing which group to sign up with. Should I race Beginner again, or should I race Sport? Some things I thought about:

Technically, after you win something, it's probably ethically shady to register for Beginner again.
This is my third season of mountain bike racing and I've spent three seasons racing Kisscross. Even though I still suck, it's hard to make a case for me being a beginner. Maybe they should have a class called "Sucky."
My fitness is not in the same place it was last year at this time.
The Sport course is 12 miles longer.
I have never, ever raced in Sport before.
Moving up to Sport will have little effect on my season since I'm racing mostly endurance races. In endurance racing, all the solo women are lumped together instead of being separated by class.

In the end, I decided to race Sport. And although I thought about all those factors listed above, the real reason I chose to register for the Sport race was fear. After having such a great race last year, I'm afraid that this year's race will pale in comparison. If I raced Beginner, that difference would be obvious, but in Sport it will be a bit easier to disguise.

I Raced Dave Wiens and Lived to Tell About It

2010-02-28T13:08:00.000-05:00

Better late than never, I guess? That's the story of this blog post, and unfortunately, it was the story of my short track race, too. On that frigid day, I was on a groupie high and geeked about racing "against" Dave Wiens in the same race. So much so that I didn't pay attention to some of the things I probably should have. After messing with my shoe covers for a few minutes without success, I left them behind and lived to regret it.

We lined up at the start of the race. Brad gave us a short spiel thanking the 15 of us who came out and explaining why we were having the race at the golf course. (MMBA Mid-State is attempting to have the venue made into a permanent bike park since it's been lying dormant for three years. More about that in another post, though.) He let the A racers go, and a few seconds later let us B racers take off.

During the race, it seemed like forever since I had last raced in the Kisscross finale at Holland. The format seemed very much like cyclocross without the barriers, though. The riding was mostly done on crunchy grass, with a few patches of ice I was able to avoid. In the first lap, I managed to keep from being dead last for a bit. As the only female out there, I had to represent. Soon enough, I was all by myself in the back. I refused to get discouraged. After all, it was for fun and I had no great ambitions for the race. I just wanted to finish.

The most challenging thing about the race, in my experience, was riding up the sledding hill. It looked a little daunting when I saw racers in front of me walking it, but I didn't want to walk anything. That's what the granny gear is for, after all. I ended up riding it each lap, cheered on by a couple of people (including former teammate David Frost) watching at the top.

One of the things that still stands out about the race, now that it's been several weeks since the event, is something that happened to me during the second lap. Now I'm used to getting lapped. It happens all the time in Kisscross. I was definitely expecting to get lapped—it was just a matter of when it happened. Near the beginning of the lap, Dave Wiens lapped me and shouted some encouraging comments. At the end of the same lap, I heard someone coming up behind me and look to see that it was Dave passing me again! This was enough to put a huge grin under my balaclava. Yes, Dave Wiens lapped me twice on the same lap! And instead of being disheartening, it kind of made me feel like I had just joined some ultra cool club. I talked about it for the rest of the day.

The last thing that happened during the race was that I finally finished my last lap, far behind the other competitors. It looked like all the spectators had gone home, but as I approached the finish line, a bunch of people came out from the shelter of the building. It's great to cheer on the champions, and I highly encourage it, but sometimes it's the people in DFL who appreciate it most. It was nice, and almost made me forget about the fact that my toes were about to fall off.

Many thanks to Brad and Chris for all the work they put into this race, and to Laurie who took my picture after my photographer refused to get out of bed. Hopefully, Mid-state will have many more races to come.

Seriously

2010-02-25T06:42:00.000-05:00

I haven't been reading any blogs, either, if it makes you feel any better.

Soon. I promise.

Having Friends Makes You Fat

2010-02-14T11:55:00.000-05:00

Okay, so it's an excuse, and a pretty lame one at that. But a few weeks ago we started hanging out with this couple, Karen and David. We've gone out with them every weekend for the past several, sometimes twice a weekend. We were at their house both Friday and Saturday night this weekend until the wee hours of the morning. I'm really enjoying it because even though I love my husband, it gets old to hang out with just each other all the time. And although we have other friends, we rarely do anything with them, especially in the winter when we're not at races and such. And some people we know are really cool, but they just live too far away.

But having "couple friends" is an interesting dynamic I've never really experienced before and it's really cool. Plus they like to watch hockey as much as we do. But instead of getting all ridiculous about how wonderful our friends are and gushing like a teenage girl with a new boyfriend, I need to talk about what the problem is.

When we get together with them, which is quite often, as I've mentioned, there is always food. We either go out to a bar or a restaurant and drink and order food, or we go to their house. At their house they always have food because they are grown ups. (They don't avoid the grocery store like the plague like I do and then have to go out or order in.) They do things like cook meals at home and put out bowls of snacks when people come over. They also have teenage sons and a constant parade of their sons' friends in and out of the house, so the munchies are plentiful. They have a fully stocked bar AND a malt making machine.

So, what to do? Quitting hanging out with them? That seems unlikely at this point and I think I'd go through some kind of serious type of withdrawal. I guess I just have to learn some self-control. Or start training even harder. I'll let you know when I decide.

By the way, I am still contemplating writing a race report for the short track race. Maybe I will do it tomorrow. Or maybe I'll just torture Ali with the possibility.

I Know, Right?

2010-02-11T06:56:00.000-05:00

This may be the longest lapse in my blog updating in recent history. All my loyal readers have probably been pondering this with great interest, wondering "why? why would she leave us hanging like this?" There are a number of possible reasons:

Writer's block?
Ashamed to return after self-admitted, embarrassing groupie behavior?
Amnesia?
Too busy?

The answer is "None of the above." Rather than having writer's block, I have actually thought of quite a few topics to write about, just haven't actually written about any of them. I learned to stop being embarrassed about my groupie tendencies in high school when people I didn't even know came up to me to tell me they were sorry when Eric Clapton's son fell out of a window and plunged to his death. Amnesia would be a great reason, but I haven't had any blows to the head lately, so that pretty much rules that one out.

Too busy? This is one is probably the most plausible, but it's not true, either. Although I have been kind of slammed at work, none of it has seeped over into my personal life. I have had plenty of time to do other things in the past couple of weeks. For example:

Riding the trainer
Working out with Jillian DVD
Riding outside
Taking the puppy girls to the dog park
Reading
Sitting on Facebook
Working on some promotion for Beyond the Ride, the clinic Anne is doing (and I am helping with) in March
Hanging out on numerous occasions with our new friends Karen and Dave

So now that I know that the suspense is killing you all, I'll admit the real reason. Laziness. Plain and simple. Every time I've thought about updating the blog, I just felt like doing something else (like sitting on the couch reading my book) more.

Sorry. I will try to get back on track now.

The Accidental Groupie

2010-02-01T20:40:00.000-05:00

I've had a couple bouts with groupie-dom in my lifetime. I'm not ashamed to admit it. But while all my friends were fawning over pictures from Teen Beat, I had something a little more serious in mind.

This gentleman is Eric Clapton. You may have heard of him. He's a virtuoso—arguably one of the best guitar players of all times. But a teen heartthrob he's not, at least he wasn't in 1988, when I was 15. Still, I was bound and determined that I was going to marry this guy, despite the fact that he was a rock hero, was 28 years my senior, had a lousy track record for relationships and a history of substance abuse and was living in England at the time. I had birthday parties for him on his birthday. I listened to his music constantly and I bought and saved every piece of press I could find on him. I saw him in concert. When I was 19, I actually got chased out of his office in London by the secretary. You could say I was a groupie. But I digress.

Remember this guy?

I'll admit that when we headed for Leadville in August I didn't really know who he was. I'll also admit that I went there specifically to see Lance finish and was disappointed when I didn't. But something else was happening there. Everyone was excited about him. Everyone was cheering for him. Everyone loved him. I started to think there must be something to it. The more I read about him, the more I liked him. When I watched Race Across the Sky, I thought that really clinched it for me. He was obviously a great guy. But it didn't compare to meeting him in person and experiencing first-hand how he treats people.

My Dave Wiens groupie story began at the Short Track Race. (I apologize to those of you who have already heard this story ad nauseum. Feel free to skip this part.) When I pulled into the parking lot, I thought I saw him sitting in the vehicle next to me. As I was getting ready, three guys got out, and sure enough there was Dave. I tried not to stare at him, but I could tell I was grinning like crazy. I kept looking over and one of the times he smiled at me and spoke.

"Hi."

"Hi, Dave."

He walked toward me, held out his hand for me to shake and said "And you are?"

(A Dave Wiens groupie?) "I'm Andrea. Thanks a lot for coming. We're really excited to have you here."

"Thanks for asking me."

Somehow I finished getting my bike ready and concentrated on the race. My next experience with Dave Wiens came when he lapped me as I was beginning the second lap. Of course, he was very encouraging as he passed me. That was also the case when he lapped me the next time at the end of the same lap. That's right. He lapped me twice on the same lap. If it had been anyone else, I would have been completely humiliated, but I actually felt kind of proud.

Dave started his presentation by telling us he wasn't really used to being a guest speaker and he was nervous. He had about five pages of notes and 100 slides. The slides were really cool because there were a lot of pictures of the Gunnison/Crested Butte area. I sat in the front row, hung on every word and took scads of pictures.

Afterward, I dutifully stood in line to get my photo taken with him. I got the opportunity to chat with him for a minute about Crested Butte and wanting to move there. When I asked him how we could do it, he answered me with a question: "Are you independently wealthy?"

But it gets better. They held some kind an after-party in a room at an East Lansing brewpub and I ended up sitting next to Dave Wiens. We sat there for a couple of hours CHATTING with him.

Let me say this starkly, if I haven't made it clear already: This guy is so down to earth it's completely incredible. He's in the Mountain Bike Hall of Fame. He raced against Lance Armstrong and won. Yet, he is ridiculously NICE. Sometimes, it's really good to be a groupie.

P.S. More about the rest of the weekend and the Expo in my next post, along with an update on how I did last week

It Was True and It Was Awesome

2010-01-31T21:28:00.000-05:00

It was a busy, fun-filled and action-packed weekend. I'll have to tell you all about it, but not tonight. By the way, in case you don't recognize him, that's Dave Wiens sitting next to me.

I Don't Know if It's True, But It's Awesome If It Is!

2010-01-28T21:23:00.000-05:00

I heard it from a reliable source, though. The rumor is that Dave Wiens is actually going to race in the short track race on Sunday. How cool would that be?

A Few Random Things

2010-01-25T21:22:00.000-05:00

I realize I never did the post I was going to do about my new eating plan, but I don't really feel like it tonight. Maybe I'll post it in the future and maybe I won't. Instead, here's some randomness.

Last week: I ended up with 2 hours and 50 minutes of trainer time last week, with about an hour and 15 minutes of bike time on the road. I also did two circuit training workouts (25 min.) with Jillian. I did all the workouts I was supposed to, but I'm thinking this does not seem like a lot of time on the bike. I think this week I'll need to add another hour on the weekend. As far as my eating goes, I did pretty well. I mostly stuck to my plan, although I got a little carried away on Saturday. I'll give myself a B+.

Short track race: Thanks to our esteemed Mid-state VP Brad Potter, there will be a short track race in Lansing on the day of the Expo. It's doubtful that I will race, but I'm going to go to take some photos. It should be a fun race to spectate. All proceeds go to the Mid-state Chapter, and trust me, we could use the support. More info is here.

Bike Basics: Someone awesome and I are holding a women's bike clinic for beginners at a local bike shop in March. Actually she's doing it and I'm helping with promotion and will make a short presentation from a more inexperienced (self-deprecating comment left out here) cyclist's perspective. We're doing it at a local bike shop, and it's going to address things like clothing, basic bike maintenance, etc. for women who are just starting out (or occasional recreational riders looking to get more serious about riding). I'm trying to think of some catchy verbiage that will attract some partipicants so we can do some advertising. I'll post more details here as it becomes more fleshed out.

Wiens: Have I mentioned that Dave Wiens is coming to town this weekend? Woo hoo! Do you think they need someone to pick him up at the airport? Or maybe accompany him back to Gunny?

28 Weeks

2010-01-23T11:41:00.000-05:00

I've been thinking about where I want to be. Late in the year 2006, I had a goal. That goal was to get down to a certain weight before my wedding in May 2008. What I really wanted more than anything was to look as good as I could on my wedding day and not have to feel regret when I looked at the wedding pictures. I didn't want the permanent physical memories of this very important day to be marred by how fat I looked. Of course, that's not what happened.

On my wedding day, I think I looked pretty darn good, and that's hard for me to say because my self-esteem isn't what you'd call great. I set the stage for everything to be perfect—the hair, the makeup, the nails, the dress—and all those things really helped.

Most girls want to feel like princesses on their wedding day and I did feel that way. Still, all was not perfect. When I looked in the mirror, I saw that my dress was tighter than I wanted it to be and my upper body didn't look like it should be on display. Even though I tried to lose weight before the wedding (and I did lose 35 or so pounds), I started to gain it back before the actual wedding.

It didn't make my wedding any less beautiful or make me any less happy to be getting married, but it was a missed opportunity. Since that time, I've gained weight, lost weight and gained it back, but I never reached that goal I set for myself before the wedding. It seems like it's never-ending. I've seen all the statistics. I know that chances are the weight is going to return every time I lose it. I don't know what, if anything, is ever going to make it different for me. This has been happening my whole life.

What I do know is that I'm not going to give up. There are all kinds of reasons I want to lose this weight—some of them are good, valid, responsible reasons and some of them have more to do with vanity. I've been thinking lately about how much weight I should shoot for losing on this go round and I've decided I really need to keep the promise I made to myself in November 2006. I'm not going to share what that number is because I'm too embarassed and I'm not ready for full disclosure.

So what does that mean, in practical terms? It means that, according to my scale this morning, I have to lose 50.5 pounds. I have a decent start—I've lost 5 pounds in the last week and a half, so if I can keep those habits up, I'll hopefully keep that going.

One thing I have also learned in this process is that I have to be very specific about my goals, so I'm giving myself a time limit to lose the weight. (If I don't meet that, it doesn't mean I'll quit. It's just something to work toward.) I'm giving myself 28 weeks to lose the weight. It's a somewhat aggressive goal, but I think it's doable. By my calculations, that means I will reach my goal by August 9.

One more thing is that I know this weight thing gets boring to read about, particularly for people who don't have a problem with their weight. So, I'm going to try not to dwell on it too much or turn the blog into a weight loss blog. Still, I want to use this blog for some accountability, so I'll probably report once a week and keep a running total on the sidebar.

Ali's Friend

2010-01-20T21:01:00.000-05:00

I had been having trouble with that whole motivation thing lately, as I think I've mentioned. So I thought to myself, "Ali's fast. She's in good shape. You should copy her!"

This is Ali's friend. We'll call her Jillian. And all those big plans for the upcoming season—she's going to help me with them.

Last winter, I rode miles and miles on the trainer. It helped a lot. I went into the season in pretty good shape. But the truth is, I was bored, and I don't think the long-suffering martyr act is going to cut it for me through another long winter. So I've decided to mix things up a little this time around and hopefully get into better shape, drop some weight and go for a well-rounded (not literally) approach. I'm also hoping that this will help me get more out of the time I do spend on the trainer and allow me to push myself more.

So, here's what I came up with for a loose schedule:

Monday Spinervals on trainer

Tuesday Jillian

Wednesday Spinervals on trainer

Thursday Jillian

Friday Spinervals on trainer

Saturday and Sunday outdoor ride or other activity (skiing, showshoeing, etc.) and one day of rest

Last winter, a bit of the time I spent on the trainer was done using Spinervals DVD, but I mostly did intervals from the Friel book, which I mapped out ahead of time and did while watching t.v. This year, I've decided that using the DVDs is better for me. The structure of someone telling me what to do the entire time will hopefully keep me from getting too lazy and loose with my trainer time.

I'm going to start doing three different DVDs a week and do that same rotation of DVDs for a few weeks straight. I'm starting with Sweating Buckets (45 min) on Monday, Recovery & Technique (45 min) on Wednesday and Aero Base Builder (80 min) on Friday. After a couple weeks I'll switch it up a bit and do some harder DVDs. That should help keep it interesting.

The last part of my training plan is that I've decided to switch to morning training. As much as I hate having to get up extra early, if I wait until after work, there are just too many excuses (I'm tired, I had to work late, etc.). I started this plan on Monday. I set the alarm for 5:45, it went off and I promptly set it for an hour later and went back to sleep. However, I did complete my training when I got home from work, and I had much better luck getting up early Tuesday and today.

Speaking of which, I'd better get to bed so I can get up early tomorrow. In my next post, I'll talk about the eating part of the equation.

2010 Plans, Goals and Dreams: Part 1, Cycling Goals

2010-01-18T21:09:00.000-05:00

I never ended up doing the season recap I meant to do, but I have analyzed my season over and over in my head. The season began with a lot of promise and fizzled out somewhere near the middle. My accomplishments were the following:

Finished Barry-Roubaix and came in first in Beginner Women 35+ (beat all the beginner women and about 18 beginner men), basically, my best race ever
Finished Yankee Springs Time Trial, took 20 minutes off my time from 2008
Finished Hanson Hills XC race, but didn't do very well
Raced in four endurance races: 8 Hours of Cannonsburg, 6 Hours of Ithaca, 6 Hours of Stony Creek, 6 Hours of Addison Oaks (came in 3rd in Michigan Endurance Cup)
Completed my first Iceman ever
Completed six Kisscross races
Completed my first Ithaca Grand Prix of Cyclocross race

This makes it look like I actually did a lot of races, even though I wasn't happy with my performance in many of them. My biggest disappointment was the fact that I didn't sustain the fitness I started the season with.

As I look toward the coming season, my hope is that I will be able to move before the end of it, but that's looking less and less likely. We haven't given up the idea of moving, but it looks like it will take longer than we were hoping it would.)

Given my disappointment with last year's season, it only stands to reason that my most important goal for the 2010 season is to improve my fitness level as the season progresses, rather than getting worse. I'd like to again concentrate on endurance races, with a few other select races mixed in. I also want to renew my determination to complete a longer (12 hours) endurance race. That was also a goal last year, but it just didn't happen.

So, here's my tentative schedule for the 2010 race season:

March 27 Barry-Roubaix
April 18 Yankee Springs TT
May 15 6 Hours of Stony Creek
June 6 Hanson Hills XC
June 12 8 Hours of Cannonsburg
July 17 6 Hours of Ithaca
July 31 8 Hours of Bloomer or August 14 6 Hours of Pando
Sept. 18 12 Hours of Hanson Hills
Oct. 9 6 Hours of Addison Oaks
Peak to Peak (?)
Iceman

I'm sure I'll refine this and make changes as necessary during the year. I'm finally starting to get my act together, so I'll write about that, as well as the details for how I'm going to make all this happen, in the coming days.

Clawing My Way Back From Hedonism

2010-01-17T11:51:00.000-05:00

For something like two months straight I wallowed in hedonism. During that time period, the only thing I really did that was productive was the stuff I had to do at work. I let the dishes and laundry pile up and let the house get even messier than usual, if that's even possible. I ate everything in sight, drank much more heavily and often than usual (normally I drink about once or twice a month, though, so don't send me to Betty Ford just yet). I trained a total of two days and spent most of my time at home reading, surfing the Internet, watching t.v. and dreaming about getting out of Michigan for good.

I got more exercise when we were on vacation in Crested Butte than I had in weeks. Still, my eating on vacation wasn't exactly low fat (although it was healthier than meals made of Christmas cookies and candy, which I had been eating before we left), and we went to the bar every night.

I resolved to get back on track as soon as we got back home, but that's been harder than I anticipated. Since we came back in the middle of the week, I told myself I'd start on the following Monday morning. When Monday came, I weighed myself and wanted to cry. It was bad, very bad. Then I did clean up my act, at least a bit. My eating habits certainly haven't been perfect, but they've been seriously improved. I can count the number of pieces of candy I ate this week—unlike before when I actually lost track—and I confined it to mini Special Darks and mini York Peppermint Patties.

As for training, I had the best of intentions. I went snowshoeing and tried to use my new (old) cross country skis. However, due to equipment malfunction, operator error or both, I didn't get much of a workout either day. I set out to ride the trainer, but forgot that I still had Chris' racing tires on my bike. I was supposed to change the back one so it wouldn't get ruined on the trainer. I rode the trainer for about 45 minutes on one night, but used the tires as an excuse not to ride anymore this week. It's become too easy to make excuses for why I'm not doing what I need to.

But I do have goals for myself (none of which I have posted yet here), and I do have a plan. Now I just need to muster all the motivation I can find, reach into my suitcase of courage and find a way to completely escape my tendency toward hedonism. I'll keep you posted on how it turns out.

It's a Dry Cold

2010-01-07T18:57:00.000-05:00

As my loyal readership will remember, one of the reasons for taking our recent trip to Crested Butte was to see if someone like me, who spends most, if not all, of the winter freezing and complaining, could really hack it living there. Now I realize that we were there for a relatively short period of time and that spending a handful of days somewhere is much different than spending an entire season there. Still, I figured it would be immediately apparent if I couldn't handle it.

Before we left, my husband attempted to quiet my main detractor by telling him "It's cold, but it's a dry cold," each time he mentioned the temperature in Crested Butte. Of course, said individual was extremely skeptical about this statement. So it was extremely humorous when, as we were chatting with the woman at our hotel's front desk the day of our arrival, she said "But it's so wet in Michigan in the winter. Out here it's a dry cold" or something to that effect.

The fact is that we loved Crested Butte, and it wasn't in spite of the winter—it was because of it. For a person who has spent most of her life hating and dreading winter, that's a crazy admission to make. My only explanation for this is that I've lived in mid-Michigan all my life and here, winter's not so much fun. In Crested Butte, it just is, and here are a few of the reasons:

It doesn't feel that cold. I don't know if it's because it's dry, but I do know that 15 degrees feels a lot warmer there than it does here.
It's sunny most of the time. That ever-present, big, warm gleaming orb and expansive bright blue sky beat the hell out of overcast, which seems to be what it looks like here for most of winter.
There's always enough snow for fun winter activities: downhill skiing, Nordic skiing, snowshoeing, sledding, and so on. It makes people want to be outside instead of hibernating all winter.
The snow coats everything—mountains, valleys, ridges, aspens—and makes them look beautiful. It's much better than brown slushiness.

So what does all this mean? It means that I'm more convinced than ever that Crested Butte is the place for us. But since realistically we're not going to be able to get there for a little while, it also means making the best of the here and now and transferring a little of that CB mentality to mid-Michigan. I can't bring the Elk Mountains here, but I can do the following:

On the occasions that we do get enough snow for winter activities, take advantage of it as much as I can. Take every opportunity to get outside and enjoy the white stuff.
If there isn't enough snow here, make short trips up North or to the West side of the state. There's usually snow in Grand Rapids, which is only 45 minutes or so down the highway.
Try out downhill skiing here, where it's easier and cheaper.
Work on polishing my skills and getting fit, so that when I do make it out there I'll have the fitness to do all I want to do.

In my next post, I'm going to set some short- and long-term goals. After that, I'm going to try not to talk about Crested Butte for a while. I'm sure even my most dedicated readers are getting sick of hearing about it.

Birthday in the Butte

2010-01-06T18:59:00.000-05:00

What better way to celebrate my birthday than hanging in Crested Butte. We spent the afternoon trying out our newly acquired mad ski skills. We took a trail that was a couple blocks from our hotel. Beauty was all around.

After doing a little souvenir shopping, we made our last trip to the Last Steep for some key lime margaritas. Yum!

Then we hung out at the Forest Queen with Jeffro until we got hungry for dinner. Chris, Steve and I went to the Lobar for some sushi and something they call "crack fries." They were delicious dipped in wasabi ketchup.

After a few more drinks at the Forest Queen, we said goodbye to our friends and headed back to the hotel to rest up for our 4:30 wake up call.

It was such a great birthday, it almost made up for being old!

The Sun Always Shines in Crested Butte

2010-01-04T11:47:00.000-05:00

I thought I was hopeless at skiing after seeing no improvement whenever I skiied. As it turns out, either the simple magic of being in Crested Butte or a good lesson was all I needed. That's not to say that I'm an expert now, but I definitely saw quite a bit of improvement just in the hour we were in the lesson. Besides our ski lesson, we did a bit of browsing at a couple of shops in town, had lunch at the Last Steep, ate dinner at Ginger Cafe and finished the evening, as is our custom, at the Forest Queen. Here are some photos from our day:

Chris with Christian, our Norwegian ski instructor

Chris showing off his technique

Awesome crab cake po' boy I had at the Steep

Ahi tuna tacos Chris had

Pork pot stickers at Ginger Cafe

Beef satay with peanut dipping sauce

Shrimp and vegetable concoction Chris had (I forget what it was called)

Ginger fried rice with shrimp (the best fried rice I have had in my life)

Hangin' at the Forest Queen

Today's our last day in Crested Butte—gotta live it up!

Paradise Found

2010-01-03T12:00:00.002-05:00

I've been on some pretty cool vacations in my life. I've been to the UK three times and have taken incredible trips to Maine and Alaska. And of course, there's Key West, which is undoubtedly my favorite place to let my hair down. Those were all fantastic trips, but I have never been anywhere like Crested Butte, where I feel like I truly belong.

The thought of moving away is certainly scary. As I've said before, I've lived pretty much within 75 miles or so of where I grew up my whole life. I don't like the idea of leaving my family and friends, but I just feel so much at peace here. I can't explain it. This is just the life I want.

Sure it's cold here, and there's quite a bit of snow, but yesterday, I found out just how much fun that winter lifestyle can be.

It was stormy when we left the hotel to go get some lunch. (I know this photo is out of focus, but it's the only one I took of the snow.)

We had lunch at a place I have been meaning to try. It's called The Secret Stash. It's a favorite with the locals and is famous for its pizza, although it also has other interesting things on the menu, like alcoholic snow cones.

The atmosphere is kind of quirky, eclectic eastern, the music is soothing and the wait staff is extemely friendly. They have two pages of specialty pizzas, both meat and veggie. I talked Chris into one called New Potato Caboose. He was a bit skeptical about potatoes on a pizza, but I had had them before and convinced him it would be great. It was potato pieces, sauce, cheddar cheese, scallions and sour cream. Delicious!

After lunch, it was still storming, so we went back to the hotel for a bit to take a nap and see if visibility improved. A couple hours later, blue skies had returned, so we headed over to the Nordic Center to rent snowshoes and poles. I thought the trip was going to be a bust when we used up about all our energy putting the snowshoes on, but we recovered. We headed up a road behind the Nordic Center. The views from the ridge were quite spectacular.

We headed up the Green Lake Trail, where more views, quite a bit of climbing and lots of aspens awaited us. (Have I mentioned I love aspens?) I had never used poles before; I don't use them with my snowshoes at home, but I soon found out why we needed them.

We were out for a couple hours. As we headed back down the mountain, the sun was starting to sink and the colors in the sky were beautiful.

We then decided to pay another visit to the Forest Queen, where we met up with Steve, the owner. He asked us to go to dinner with him and took us to a place called Slogar. The food was family-style fried chicken dinner, complete with cottage cheese, tomato chutney, corn, biscuits and mashed potatoes and gravy. There was also an interesting relish tray with carrots, celery, pickled pear slices and (best of all) bread and butter pickles. It also came with ice cream, but we were all too stuffed to eat it.

We finished off the evening at the Forest Queen watching the Alamo Bowl. Interestingly enough, we were sitting at the bar with one MSU grad, one current MSU student and a Texas Tech grad. It was all very civilized, though. The drinks were flowing and Chris and I led the group in several renditions of "On the Banks of the Red Cedar."

The sun is shining again today and we have more adventure on the agenda. Stay tuned.

New Year's Day in Crested Butte

2010-01-02T11:51:00.001-05:00

Our New Year's Day in Crested Butte was pretty low key, but very enjoyable. We started out with an early continental breakfast at our hotel.

We spent the rest of the morning hanging out in our hotel room, updating my blog, reading and resting up for the day ahead. We started out taking some photos outside of our hotel.

We wandered around town for a while and had lunch at The Last Steep. I, of course, had the fish tacos, and Chris had the black bean casserole. Good stuff!

Then we headed up the mountain to see what was happening up there. We checked out the views, watched the tubers and skiers and investigated an igloo.

Then we went to The Avalanche for a cocktail at the fire bar. After checking out the ice sculptures in Mountaineer Square, we headed back to town.

We wrapped up the evening with dinner at Donita's Cantina before going back to the hotel for an early night. We still had some sleep to catch up on from the day before.

We got a few inches of snow overnight and it's still snowing. I think we're going to take advantage of it to try out some winter sports.

New Year's Eve in Crested Butte

2010-01-01T11:29:00.000-05:00

I thought we were never going to get here. Yesterday's trip included three different flights and I was fearful we'd have some weather delays. As it turned out, our delays had nothing whatsoever to do with weather.

We started our day at 3:30 a.m. We got to the Lansing airport with no problems and our plane took off only a few minutes behind schedule after a brief deicing procedure. Even so, we ended up in Chicago on time after a short 35-minute flight.

We had a couple hours to kill at O'Hare before our flight to Denver, so we got some breakfast. Our first delay came when our plane was late coming in from Boston. It was only a 15 or 20 minute delay, so it wasn't going to affect us much. The plane arrived and they started boarding, only to stop the boarding process just as our section got in line.

There was apparently a problem with the pilot's window, which they were trying to fix. After a few minutes, they announced we were going to take a different plane and sent us all to a different gate. Our flight would be delayed by an hour. We finally got to board. However, it seemed like it was taking a long time to get started, even after everyone had found their seats. The pilot announced we were still waiting for the bags to be moved to our plane.

Finally, they started giving us the emergency spiel and it looked like departure was imminent. Their speech was interrupted by the pilot breaking in to tell the flight crew that the galley truck had pulled up outside. It seems the catering company was insisting on switching out the kitchen supplies, even though the flight crew told them the plane was fully stocked. What ensued was a delay that left us sitting on the tarmac for a good hour and a half, before they flight crew finally won the battle and we were allowed to take off.

We got to the gate in Denver two minutes after our connecting flight left for Gunnison. The only other flight was six and a half hours later, so we spent the rest of the afternoon sitting in the Denver airport. Luckily, our flight to Gunnison went off without a hitch. We caught our bus to Crested Butte, checked into our hotel, freshened up a bit and headed for the Forest Queen for some festivities.

Somehow, we made it to midnight in a packed bar rocking out to "The Darrells." We made our New Year's champagne toasts, finished our drinks and headed back out into the frosty night for the walk to our hotel. At this point, it was close to 1 a.m. (which is 3 a.m. our time). We had been awake for nearly 24 hours, and I am definitely too old for that. It may not have been the New Year's Eve I was expecting or hoping for, but at least we made it to Crested Butte in time to celebrate it.

Today the sun is shining and it looks to be a beautiful, if frigid, day out there. I guess I'd better go enjoy it.

Have I Mentioned I'm Excited?

2009-12-21T20:45:00.000-05:00

Most of you already know the MMBA Expo is coming up at the end of next month. I have always enjoyed the Expo. It's a chance to catch up with old friends, check out some good deals at the swap meet and hang out with like-minded people (mostly). However, I will say that I've enjoyed it much more since they moved it out of Davison to the Lansing area. Not only is it practically in my backyard, but I don't have to make the ridiculous trek to Davison, which is convenient for no one (except people who live in Davison).

This year, though, I have a HUGE reason to be excited about the Expo. That's because a certain person, who'll I'll just call "DAVE WIENS," is going to be speaking. DAVE WIENS! DAVE WIENS! As in, 6-time Leadville champion, awesome Dave Wiens. As in, the guy who lives a mere stone's throw from Crested Butte (where I will be in 10 short days) Dave Wiens. I have never been excited about a speaker at the MMBA Expo, but this one is enough to make up for all the years past.

More info on the Expo can be found here, but really all you need to know is that Dave Wiens is speaking.

BTW, on a completely unrelated matter, is anyone else starting to get the impression that something is going on between Fat Cyclist and the Runner?

DIY

2009-12-20T16:09:00.000-05:00

I apologize to anyone coming to this site to read cycling-related posts. There just hasn't been much related to cycling to talk about lately. My winter training went well for the first couple weeks, but then I got sick again, got ridiculously busy at work and found lots of excuses to avoid it. My plan at this point is to start up again when we get back from Crested Butte and work hard the rest of the winter, because I do want to be in good shape for Barry-Roubaix. Realistically, though, even if I had been training, it wouldn't make for scintillating reading. I can just picture it now:

Today I rode the trainer and watched Spinervals 2.0, Sweating Buckets. I did a lot of sweating. Then I took a shower.

So, on to the real topic of this post ...

I said quite a while ago that the first hurdle in plan to move to Crested Butte was to get our house ready to sell. Since October when we rented an 18-yard container to throw a bunch of things away, we haven't made any progress toward this goal. It could be because it's so overwhelming—there's so much to do, and I fear it's going to be prohibitively expensive. There's much in our house that is in disrepair, not to mention downright ugly. Here's a taste of what I'm up against:

Bathroom floor tile

Garish color combinations (and yes, the tub matches this toilet)

Precious kitchen wallpaper complete with baby farm animal border

Kitchen counter and backsplash made of, you guessed it, linoleum

Vinyl floor tile in the kitchen

Stained, indoor/outdoor-style carpeting in bedroom and hallway (formerly in entire house)

But lest someone think there is nothing about our house I like, I give you our wide oak trim, which is really quite nice:

But if all you do is whine about how much you have to do, nothing ever gets done. So, I started planning to do these projects incrementally, so as not to overwhelm our stamina or our budget too much. The bathroom really needs the most attention, so I began with that.

Ideally, I would like to make the following changes to the bathroom before we put the house on the market. Luckily, we can do most of them ourselves or by enlisting the help of my dad, who can fix, make or build pretty much anything.

Remove hideous wallpaper
Paint
Install an exhaust fan
Replace vanity
Replace mirror and light with lighted medicine cabinet
Replace rotting trim
Build storage shelves
Replace floor tile with linoleum

(That's right. As of now, I'm planning to leave the pink toilet and tub, as well as the sea foam green wall tile and tub surround, but I could change my mind.)

After my first two days of work on it, I have not even finished removing the remarkably stubborn wallpaper (see top photo). I guess I have my work cut out for me. Wish me luck!

Unexpected

2009-12-17T07:05:00.000-05:00

After spending the bulk of my existence cursing Michigan winters and snow, I find myself a bit taken aback by my recent emotions regarding our lack of snow. For most of my life, I have thought it would be ideal if we had about two snowy days a year, Christmas and Christmas Eve. And, although I had never been a fan of moving to a warmer clime where there are no apparent seasons, I was ready to bid adieu to winter completely. So I guess I shouldn't be so judgmental about some of my friends and family being skeptical about me wanting to move to Colorado.

However, as I alluded to at the beginning of this post, my thoughts they are a changin'. Recently I've found myself complaining about our dearth of snow. In fact, every time snow has been forecasted, my hopes have been dashed and I've cursed the weathermen. But so unusual is this sentiment that my own brother (who admittedly doesn't pay a lot of attention to details) recently demanded on Facebook that I "man up" because he thought I was complaining about snow when I was complaining about our lack thereof.

I'm not sure what explains this drastic change in feeling. Perhaps it's the fact that I have new winter gear, including a parka and ski pants. It may also be the Christmas presents I'm expecting, such as the warm winter boots. It may even be the new ski boots and the pair of cast-off cross country skis that my mom will be sending my way soon. Whatever it is, it's a little unnerving, but I like it!

It seems kind of crazy that we don't even have enough snow to cover the grass successfully even though it's mid-December, particularly with the amount they've received in other parts of the state. (This person and this person actually have snow where they live.) Maybe we'll get some soon, but in the meantime, I can always dream about this. It gives me goosebumps just thinking about it.

What if I Were a Different Kind of Person?

2009-12-14T20:21:00.000-05:00

The other day, when I was hunting around online, I found an open position for an editor of Crested Butte Weekly. Now I know that I have no background in journalism, but I was the editor of a magazine for several years and I have seen the Crested Butte Weekly. I'm not only certain that I could handle the job, I'm sure I could improve the publication.

I had actually seen the posting before, but this one included an actual salary and the detail that the position was full-time, which made it seem quite a bit more palatable. My head was up in the clouds for the rest of the day, working things out, trying to imagine the earliest I could possibly have the house ready to sell. I even wondered if I could find some temporary lodging and leave Chris here to work and get the house ready to sell while I went to Crested Butte to start the job. How's that for getting ahead of yourself?

Later that day, I found out that even though it was still posted, the position had already been filled, so I didn't have to envision any more scenarios about how I would start working there right away. The hope and excitement vanished almost as quickly as it had arrived.

In its wake it left a distinct air of wistfulness. It made me wish I were braver. I can count on one hand the few truly brave things I've done in my life and sometimes that rankles. It's not that I'm so materialistic, but I don't like the idea of things being completely uncertain. I don't need a ton of luxuries, but I like a few, and I have to be able to put food on the table and Pro Plan in the dog dishes.

Just once in a while, I wish I were the type of person who could just pack up and go and not worry about the consequences. My fear is that waiting for everything to fall into place, instead of leading to a move to Crested Butte, could just lead to more waiting.

On the bright side, we'll be there in 17 days, if only for a little while.

Salute to Cyclists (and Other Assorted Ramblings)

2009-12-09T22:03:00.005-05:00

(I was going to title this post "Ode to Cyclists," but I remembered that my poetry-writing skills were never that good, particularly for someone who majored in English. And since my strophes, antistrophes and epodes aren't what they ought to be, I decided to stick to prose for now.)

At any rate, something amazing happened in the realm of cycling over the past few days. If you read Fat Cyclist, you already know this, but for those of you who don't, here's the gist of it. Late last week, Fat Cyclist, as he is wont to do, wrote one of his famous open letters. This particular letter was written to Johan Bruyneel. (If you don't know who Johan is, just Google him. That's what DG would do.) In the letter, in typical satirical FC fashion, he asked to be allowed to join Team RadioShack. But his pleas didn't fall on deaf ears, and Johan replied by presenting him with a fundraising challenge, which, if met, would allow FC to attend Team RadioShack Training Camp in Arizona. The amount he needed to raise was $10,000 for LAF and $10,000 for World Bicycle Relief. The real challenge came from the fact that he would have less than a week to do it.

When he and his readers completed the feat a mere day later, Johan upped the ante. A couple other people donated prizes and FC wound up raising more than $50,000 for each cause in three days!

Now because I attended a very impressive social media presentation just this morning, I'm inclined to say that this just shows the outstanding feats that can be accomplished so quickly using social media. And that would definitely be true. It's also true that FC is a phenomenon and he could probably get those who love him (pretty much everyone who reads his blog) to do just about anything he asked. But it's also a testament to how generous and supportive this cycling community can be (and almost always is). I can rattle off a handful of examples of this—maybe not as extreme, but in some ways just as meaningful—that have directly affected me in the last few years as I've surrounded myself with these people.

Some of you may remember that I wrote a couple of articles for an online cycling 'zine a while ago. The editors often asked me to come up with ideas for articles. One of the suggestions I made was to write something about cyclists being a tightly knit community. One of the editors disagreed with me. In his estimation, cyclists are loners, not team players, and that's why they participate in a solitary sport. This is so contrary to my experience that I can't even begin to imagine where he got this idea. In my mind, this FC phenomenon is just another example of how cyclists band together to support one another.

Now for an awkward transition ...

Speaking of incredible behavior by cyclists, can you believe that some people actually ride their bikes on a trail in the dark? On purpose? It's true. This was the plan last Saturday down at Heritage Park in Adrian. Not only did they do that, but I decided it would be a good idea for us to go. As it turned out, it was a somewhat disastrous experience for me. The light I had wasn't quite bright enough for the trail. Besides, taking my first night ride on a trail I had never ridden on before at all was probably not the best idea. And if you think I am hesitant on an unfamiliar trail in the daylight, you should see me at night. Yikes!

Chris and I ended up bailing out of the ride early and waiting for the rest of the group in the parking lot. Still, it made me feel very brave to even try, considering how cold it was. Best of all, we went to a local watering hole, had some food and a few cocktails, and got to hang out a bit with Jake, Nichole, Laurie and Mitch, which we have not done in a long time. So it was worth it after all.

Better Late Than Never

2009-12-05T15:39:00.000-05:00

Okay, for some reason I'm not overly thrilled about writing a race report for last weekend's Kisscross finale, so I can't promise I'll come up with anything decent. In fact, I may just give the basics and post a few pictures. Here's the gist of it:

I finished second to the last, in front of a tandem that either had mechanical issues, took a bathroom break in the middle of the race, or both.
The race was fun in a kind of miserable way. It poured rain throughout most of the C race and was very messy. Slogging through that kind of stuff makes me feel really hardcore.
Rick originally told us we had to do five laps, but due to the amount of rain and the course getting torn up, decreased it to four after the first lap. I protested loudly and decided to do five anyway, just on principle. (Or maybe I thanked my lucky stars and cheered in a celebratory fashion. You decide which one you think is more likely.)
I know I say this all the time, but I have never wanted to DNF a race so badly before. My legs felt like lead from the get go and I had no idea how I was going to finish. As usual, I knew I would feel much worse if I quit, so I slogged through it.

As usual, Rick and Cathy did a great job with the whole series. We're all lucky they continue to do this.

I did my stair workout.

My teammate Nichole was beating the guys, as usual.

Navigating the Death Spiral

Riding through the muddy goodness

Here's how the Death Spiral looked post-race. Kind of reminiscent of crop circles

And here's how I spent my week. Luckily, the event is tomorrow because it's about to kill me.

Why Me?

2009-12-01T07:06:00.000-05:00

Excuse me, please, while I whine for a minute (pretty unusual, huh?) because of the unfairness of it all. Normally, I am a person with a pretty hearty constitution, but lately this hasn't been the case at all. Sunday night, I started to feel crappy, but I thought I was just tired from a busy weekend and sore from a huge endo. But Monday morning I woke up with a full-blown sick, just in time for the last week of planning for a work party for 350+ people. The timing is truly suck-tastic.

Now I suspect that the germs I have were passed along to me by my chronically ill, consistently sniffly nephew when I saw him this weekend. Still, that begs the question: Why, when I am normally never sick, am I sick for the third time since October? I have a couple of working theories:

I have been running myself ragged for several months now and am just completely worn out.
The Aspergillus penicillium growing in my bathroom has lowered my immunity and made me more susceptible to illness.
When I examine my recent diet, I find it deficient in any and all major nutrients, which may have adversely affected my health.

I will have to work on all of the above items, but in the interim, I'm still sick and I still have to get through a week that is going to be a bear.

A Kisscross finale race report is still coming, but it may be a couple of days. Right now sleep seems preferable to blogging for obvious reasons.

Bike Accidents

2009-11-28T23:01:00.000-05:00

Three weekends in a row. Three different trails. Today's was Fort Custer, which I haven't ridden since the Stampede of '08 (right before the wedding of the century). It seemed like a good idea since the weather was nice, I needed to ride and I would be over on that side of the state anyway.

But first, to Kalamazoo, zoo, zoo, to visit the slightly belated birthday boy, Sebastian. That boy loves legos and playmobil. Our contribution was the playmobil ambulance, complete with an indisposed cyclist lying on a stretcher after a bike accident. It necessitated an impromptu bicycle safety speech from Aunt Andrea.

Oh yeah, and that boy, when questioned about what the theme of his birthday party should be, chose "carbon." Yes, carbon, the element. Of course, this is the same boy who spent his sixth year obsessed with DNA. It's also the same boy who could identify all the planets on sight by the time he was five. Love that quirky boy. Call him strange, but he's a keeper.

Then on to Fort Custer, where I met Dave and Kate. Former Michiganders transplanted in Madison, they were back for Thanksgiving weekend visiting. They borrowed some chain lube from me in the parking lot and then asked me to ride with them. Turns out Dave works for that one bike company that I'm not a big fan of, but I didn't tell him that. They were quite a bit faster than me and they waited nicely and encouragingly every so often for me to catch up.

I was actually having a good time. It's fun to ride with other people, especially when they speak your language. Plus, I liked the trail better than I remembered and it was warm enough for short sleeves. And then a bit of hesitancy got me on a sketchy downhill and it happened—my first crash in weeks and my first endo in absolutely ages. It was witnessed by two people I just met who ran back down to see if I was okay. Nice. I recovered enough to smile for my picture, at least, but hours later, I'm still feeling a little battered.

Still, it was a fun ride. Next up is what is bound to be a bittersweet season finale of Kisscross.

The Ultimate Small Town, Part 2

2009-11-27T22:50:00.003-05:00

So, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by life, I slowly began to realize I liked the idea of moving to a small town, but not just any small town. It's crazy how I started thinking about living in Crested Butte as soon as we arrived. I can't begin to count how many times in the space of that week I found myself walking through town, trying to think of something from home I absolutely couldn't stand to give up if it meant living there.

I guess everyone has his or her own idea of what the perfect place to live might be. I certainly never thought my idea of a perfect place would be colder than Michigan with more snow. I thought it would be along the lines of something tropical. This just goes to show how much I've changed from who I used to be.

One of my coworkers recently loaned me the November issue of Ski, which contained an article about Crested Butte. Here are a few quotes from it:

"We have to keep in our mind that we're real, and we're unpretentious. And the people who gravitate to us are that way." (I guess that means I'm unpretentious.)

"If you go to the grocery store and forget your money, someone in line is going to help you out."

"We keep our doors unlocked. When you know 90 percent of the people it's easy to say hello to everyone ... And the 10 percent who are tourists? You might as well say hi to them, too."

These are great quotes, and they completely support the experience I had in Crested Butte. But these are also things that can be said about a lot of small towns. So what makes Crested Butte the ultimate small town? Name another small town where you can find the following:

Two different sushi restaurants
A restaurant owned by Heidi Montag's mom (okay, this doesn't thrill me much, but I thought I'd throw it in)
Stores selling North Face and Patagonia clothes
Zero stoplights
"The" four-way stop
A 15 mph posted speed limit
Free buses (with murals painted on them, quirky bus drivers and ski and bike racks) running every 20 minutes
Bartenders who hug you when you leave
People who cook for you after the kitchen is closed for the night
Bikes, bikes everywhere
People talking about bikes everywhere
A three block ride from the center of town to hit a mountain bike trail
A place where you can hitch a ride on a ski lift and ride your bike back down the mountain
Kids playing a soccer game at the foot of a mountain
So many dog people
The bluest sky ever

I could go on, but I think I've made my point. (And only 35 days until we go back. Woo hoo!)

The Ultimate Small Town, Part 1

2009-11-26T10:39:00.000-05:00

"Did I hear you talking about Colorado? Are you going there?"

"Yep. Well, we're going there for New Year's, but we're trying to move there, too."

"I just moved back. I lived there for four years. Where in Colorado do you want to move?"

"Crested Butte."

"Crested Butte or Gunnison?"

"Crested Butte."

"Why would you want to move to Crested Butte?"

"Why, where did you live in Colorado?"

"Denver."

"Oh."

The above is a reasonable facsimile of a conversation my husband had in a bar this week. Though it may seem from this blog that we've moved on, we still want to move to Crested Butte, just as soon as we can figure out how to make it happen. And we still talk about it all the time, particularly to strangers who aren't sick of hearing about it already.

In the interest of full disclosure, I'll admit that the time I spent in Denver was entirely in the airport, but I wasn't impressed by what I saw when we were landing. I'm sure that Denver probably has lots to offer, but I'm positive it's not anywhere I want to live. I'll also admit I didn't know this guy at all or anything about his background, but I suspect that he thinks Crested Butte is entirely too small (much the same way I think Denver is entirely too big).

If anyone had told me when I was in high school that I would someday want to live in a small town with a population of about 1,500, I would have thought they were nuts. In fact, until I went away to college and met people from actual small towns, I thought I did live in a small town, even though the population was about 40,000. It seemed that there was nothing there. If we want to do much shopping, go to a concert or go to a chain restaurant that wasn't fast food (think Chi Chi's), we had to go to Lansing or Ann Arbor. I couldn't wait to leave and I couldn't imagine wanting to live anywhere smaller. Many of the people I grew up with felt the same way, and most of them did move away the first chance they got.

But that was before things like the Internet, satellite t.v., BlackBerry and e-mail were a part of my everyday life. And slowly I began to think that living in a small town, and getting away from the traffic (yes, I am complaining about traffic in Lansing—it's relative, get over it), the endless construction and the general bullshit that comes from living in a place where there are a lot of other people, wasn't such a bad idea after all.

I started to realize this more after we bought our cabin. It was always hard to leave and come back to the city after we spent the weekend up there. The pace was so much nicer, there were fewer people on the roads, you could run into the hardware store and get something on a Saturday morning without fighting crowds of people. In short, it was peaceful.

Still, there was something missing there, and although it many ways, it would be a good place to move, it certainly wasn't the perfect place.

To be continued ...

What a Difference the Dirt Makes

2009-11-23T21:33:00.000-05:00

I was looking to hit the trail yesterday and was scheduled for a 3.5 hour ride. I knew I didn't want to spend 3.5 hours at Burchfield, so I reviewed my options. I could make a second try at Poto, but riding Poto by myself after the trouble I had the last time didn't seem like a good idea. I thought about going to Yankee, but that meant doing at least two laps and I really doubted I could make myself ride two laps at Yankee.

Then I remembered the trail I was talking about just a week earlier—Luton Park. I had yet to ride there, and I thought the lure of a previously unexplored trail might just be enough to coax my husband out the door. When I asked him, he agreed right away.

Unfortunately, we got a later start than we wanted to, and ended up in Rockford at about 1 p.m. The trail is in a county park, but if you weren't looking for it, you could easily miss it. The only sign is of the "no motorized vehicles" variety, and there's no parking lot. We drove by and luckily, Chris caught the sign. We then turned around and went to park in the supermarket parking lot, since the park itself has no lot and due to an agreement with the county, riders are prohibited (discouraged) from parking on the side of the road.

In the parking lot, we encountered Mr. Kisscross, Rick Plite and his wife, Cathy. After chatting with them for a few minutes and getting some advice on how to navigate the trail, we took off down the road for a mile before turning on to the dirt.

The trail was longer than I expected, and contained a lot of varied terrain. There were a few muddy spots and one or two sandy sections, but most of the trail was in good shape. There were wooded areas and lots of that piney goodness I love so much, with some log piles and rock piles mixed in. Oddly enough, there were also sections of trail stretching alongside cornfields. I don't know why this struck me as so strange. I guess it was just because I've never ridden my bike next to a cornfield before (except on the road, of course).

Out on the trail, we caught up with Rick again, marking out some reroutes. We stopped for a minute to catch our breath and so Chris could offer his two cents. We headed back soon after. I hadn't ridden anywhere close to 3.5 hours, but we had a good ride and were tired.

I ended up with about 1 hour and 45 minutes, only slightly longer than my ride on Saturday. However, getting outside on another beautiful day, trying out a new trail and experiencing a rare ride with my husband far outweighed my disappointment in my stamina. What was amazing to me was how much more worn out I was after my ride on Sunday than I was on Saturday. What a difference it makes riding on dirt.

Training on Borrowed Time

2009-11-22T09:09:00.000-05:00

I started my winter training program this week. Monday was strength training, Tuesday was 1.5 hours on the bike, Wednesday was both and Friday was just strength training. I did all that training inside because, as nice as it has been outside, it's almost completely dark when I get out of work at the end of the day. I don't have a light, and there's no way I'm riding outside in the dark with no light.

Luckily, I still have weekends. I have no idea how long this weather is going to hold, but as long as it does, I'm certainly going to take advantage of any outside riding I can do. Yesterday, I was scheduled to do 1.5 hours of E1, which is recovery pace. Since I knew I'd be heading out on the trail for a 3.5-hour ride today, I decided to hit the river trail for a low-key trek through town.

The only way you can tell it's almost the end of November right now is by the bare trees. Everything else seems like early fall. The temperatures were hovering just below 50. If I hadn't been riding so slowly, I would certainly have been overdressed. The grass is still green. I just don't think Mother Nature knows it's almost Thanksgiving, not that I'm complaining.

The ride was a welcome change from the trainer. More fun to come today.

Surprises

2009-11-16T19:14:00.000-05:00

After the good riding and racing I have done lately, I was excited to get out for a day of Kisscross. The weather was pretty warm, though overcast, but the skies started to clear as I made my way to Grand Rapids. My first surprise came after I finished my warm up lap and was getting ready to line up for the start. Someone said "What are you doing here?" and came up and hugged me. It was my On 2 Wheels teammate Nichole! "No," I answered. "The question is, what are you doing here? I'm always here." As it turns out, at the last minute she had been talked into doing her first cross race that day on a borrowed bike.

Nichole is an excellent rider/racer. This year was her first year of racing and I think she podiumed pretty much every race she did. At the beginning of the season, right before Yankee, she was thinking of racing Beginner, where she definitely didn't belong, but decided to race Sport at the last minute. Before this season, I think she had only really ridden on one trail, but that trail was Poto. Needless to say, she didn't have any trouble leaving me in the dust. She finished 4th at Iceman with a time of 2:19, but was bummed that she didn't do better since she was in the lead for much of the race before dropping her chain twice and getting passed.

Since I was talking to Nichole and she seemed very nervous, I started near the middle of the pack with her instead of in my usual back of the pack spot. I quickly got passed when the race started, but not by everyone. The course was challenging and fun. It was set up just differently enough from last year to make it interesting.

I stayed near the back, but there was a girl just slightly in front of me and I thought I had a chance to beat her. I like having someone just in front of me like that because it keeps me motivated to push harder. I finally ended up passing her riding up a hill, but then she passed me on a run up and I never caught up again. I think I had more skill than she did, but she was more fit and I couldn't keep up the pace.

My second suprise of the day was that for the first time in a long time, I didn't get lapped. I was waiting for it the whole race, but as the leaders started to gain on me, I kicked it up a notch and crossed over into the next lap before they had a chance.

I had resigned myself to finish last and pulled across the finish line with the thought that I was last, only to find my third surprise of the day—there were two women quite a ways behind me! I was 10th out of 12 women, 40 out of 42 overall. My teammate, who claimed she had a terrible race, finished second in the women and 10th or so overall. Rick was also testing out timing chips for Kisscross, so we got to see our lap times, which was kind of fun.

It was a nice finale to a very enjoyable weekend.

Tree Farming

2009-11-15T08:17:00.000-05:00

We had a pretty crappy summer, weather-wise, but Mother Nature is sure making up for it now. I woke to another gorgeous Indian Summer day, and the temperatures proceeded to climb into the mid-60s. It was a great idea for Di, Marty, Nick, Dave and I to meet on the East side of the state to work on the new MMBA brochure, but it was an even better one for us to get a ride in first.

The venue was the Tree Farm. I had never been there before and I was excited to try out a new trail with guidance from people who knew it. I was not disappointed. With 10 miles of singletrack, complete with a pump track, a "crater" and a fair amount of log piles, it's a fun trail. I challenged myself to ride some of the things that were a little scary for me, although I admit I didn't try the crater. (I do try the pump track, though.) Maybe next time, since I definitely want to go back.

It was fun to ride with a group, which is something I rarely do anymore. We rode at a nice, leisurely pace and stopped often to wait for each other (okay, they waited for me). I haven't had that much fun riding since Iceman and before that I don't remember when. Dave, who is the trail coordinator, led the way and told us a bit about the trail when we stopped.

Afterward, we attempted to undo all our hard work riding with pizza and beer back at Dave's office. (No, I didn't drink the beer.) As we ate, we got down to business brainstorming and coming up with copy for the brochure. Well, Di came up with copy and the rest of us commented on it and offered suggestions, when we weren't talking about other stuff. All in all, it was a very enjoyable day.

In late afternoon, I headed back home, and to make an already outstanding day even better, watched my Spartan hockey team complete a weekend sweep of the arrogant and blue before a crowd of more than 7,000 screaming fans. The only thing that could make this weekend better is a little Kisscross. Hmm ...

Iceman Cometh and Goeth

2009-11-14T08:03:00.000-05:00

A few years ago, Chris and I went up to Iceman to hang out and watch some friends race. The weather that year was phenomenal. It was a sunny, unseasonably warm day. At the time, I remember really wishing I had been ready to race it that year (although at that point I hadn't raced anything yet), just so I could have taken advantage of the weather. I was sure that by the time I was ready to race Iceman it would be freezing and precipitating. I couldn't have been more wrong.

After obsessing over the entire tights issue for a couple weeks (wherein I couldn't find mine and ended up ordering another pair at the last minute, as well as having to drive across town on Friday to get them out of the bike shop owner's car, which was in the shop, and was where he left the box with my tights in it), I found myself again obsessing over them at the start line, wondering whether or not I had overdressed. I'm not sure of the exact temperature, but I think it ended up being about 65.

When we pulled into the parking lot, my stomach was churning. I have never felt as nervous for a race as I did that day. Luckily, I had my own personal pit crew. I paced the parking lot and made last minute trips to the bathroom as Chris got my bike put together, attached water bottle cages and even secured a bento box and filled it with shot blocks (with the wrappers pre-ripped so I wouldn't have to struggle). It was several blocks to the start line and I worried that Chris wouldn't get there on foot fast enough to take my picture, but my fears were unfounded. He made it just in time to catch my nervousness with his Nikon.

Even Frankie Andreu's calming voice giving commentary and answering Tour trivia wasn't enough to calm me down. I felt like a basketcase. As I zipped down the pavement before hitting the dirt, I tried to remind myself over and over that there was nothing technical on the course, and that everything was going to be okay.

By the time we were on the trail, I felt better. There were only a couple people behind me, but I passed a few more as they struggled in the sand. I even felt good enough to joke to a person near me when we saw the 26 sign that I couldn't believe we had already ridden 26 miles. (For those of you who don't know, the signs were counting down how many miles we had left.)

Though it was somewhat overcast at the start, it quickly started to break up and the sun came pouring through the clouds. It was a beautiful day, the trail wasn't particularly challenging and I was able to just enjoy the ride and the atmosphere. My main concern at that point was to make it to Williamsburg road by 2 p.m. I knew if I didn't I would get pulled from the course to make room for the pros. However, it didn't seem like even I could be that slow and I felt pretty confident I could make it.

I loved the course. Absolutely loved it. Singletrack snobs can scoff all they want, but that was my kind of race. Dirt and woods, but no fear. It was perfect for me. I just wished I was in better shape. My attitude was positive, but I kept thinking that if I was in the kind of shape I was for Barry-Roubaix or even Yankee earlier this year, I could have killed that course.

The thing that truly surprised me was how early and often people were walking the hills. Hills that seemed not even challenging, in the early parts of the race, had people bailing off left and right. I personally think it takes a lot more energy to push a bike up a hill than it does to ride one, even if you are in your granny gear and going 2.5 mph, so I tried to ride them as much as I could. I often rode up a hill where everyone else was walking. It made me feel pretty good, so I gave myself a large pat on the back.

After about an hour, it became clear that I couldn't continue with the tights on any longer. I pulled over and ripped them off, right over my shoes, and stuffed them in my back pocket. So much for that.

I didn't stop for the first aid station. At Williamsburg Road, I had plenty of time and knew I would finish, but I just stopped briefly to adjust a couple of things and throw away a few wrappers. With about 10 miles to go I started watching the time. I had determined that I wanted to finish in under 4 hours (yes, I know that's really slow), but I started thinking maybe I could make it in 3:30.

That time became a pipe dream as I slogged through the last five miles. I did end up walking up three hills at the very end because I just had nothing left in my legs. Overall, I felt really good for the whole race up until the last couple miles. Those were extreme torture because I was so close to the finish line and could hear everyone but it just kept dragging on and on.

When I was almost to the finish line, I started looking for Chris. We weren't sure how he was going to make it from the start to the finish with no available ride, but I saw him right before the finish line ready to take my picture and that was just the icing on the cake.

My final time was 3:53, which is painfully slow, but made me happy because I met my goal. I finished 38 of 42 in my class and 3038 of 3372 finishers overall. So, there actually were people slower than me. All in all, I had a great race; I felt good, had no mechanicals and no crashes and I truly enjoyed it. I can't wait to come back and race it again. It's too bad I have to wait an entire year.

I Knew There Was Some Reason I Wanted to Do This

2009-11-10T19:31:00.002-05:00

There have been many times in my life when I have truly wished I was better, but those instances don't often translate into renewed effort. Without really knowing why, I have wanted very badly to race Iceman for a long time, and this past weekend I finally did it. Not only that, for me it was one of the few definining moments in my life. Because this race, like few things in my life have done, really made me wish I was better, and made me wish it enough to actually make myself better. Even though I had a great time during this race and I loved racing it, part of me was sad and unfulfilled for the entire race. I wished with everything I had in me that I had the fitness to push myself the way I wanted to push myself—to make myself ride harder and faster—to truly conquer the race the way I wanted to conquer it.

I did my best, and at the end of the day I was happy with that. But I also got the shot in the arm I really needed. At a time when fatigue, lethargy and the beginnings of apathy were keeping me from riding, training and even racing, I found a renewed motivation to be better. This race made me want to drop 30 pounds, strengthen my core, Bowflex, layer up and ride through the freezing cold and do intervals on the trainer until I'm ready to hurl. It made me want to leave my old self in the dust.

P.S. As soon as my personal photographer/spouse processes the photos from Iceman, I will do a real race report (much to Ali's chagrin).

Banishing Negativity

2009-11-06T08:33:00.000-05:00

Iceman is tomorrow. Tomorrow. The day after today.

The scant amount of time I've spent on blog posts recently has seen me whining about how I'm not ready for Iceman, how it's going to be a disaster, etc. If I had been writing more there would have undoubtedly been more of the same.

Yesterday, I got an e-mail pep talk from someone who has always been very encouraging, and it really made me want to get my act together, as far as the negativity is concerned. So I thought about the facts:

I don't have as much training as I wish had, and I've lost a lot of fitness since the beginning of the year.
I've been sick all week long and all I've done is go to work and go straight to bed when I got home. I haven't had energy for anything else.

But here are a few more facts for me to chew on:

Through two seasons of mountain bike racing and what's now my third season of cyclocross, I've never, ever had a DNF, even when I've been absolutely miserable. When I've felt humiliated, demoralized, beaten and battered, I still haven't allowed myself to quit. I know, deep down, that I never would unless I had a really, really good reason, such as a major injury or major mechanical.
My legs and my stamina might not be in the shape to conquer this race, but they're certainly in good enough shape to finish this race. I haven't doubted for a second in all of this that I can finish.
I have a really nice bike now.
This morning I feel better than I have since last Saturday. In fact, besides a slight headache and an occasional cough, I feel almost normal again.

The e-mail I got told me to "banish negative thoughts, focus on the good stuff." So that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to remind myself that what happens in this race is almost exclusively up to me. I'm going to remember how much I've always wanted to do this race and let myself enjoy the experience.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go pack for Traverse City.

Trying to Keep Up

2009-11-01T18:15:00.000-05:00

To say I've been noticeably absent from this blog lately would be a huge understatement. Life has been flying by at a high rate of speed lately and I haven't made time to read anyone else's blogs, much less update my own. Work has been crazy busy. On top of my usual tasks, I've been providing some support for my boss, who is trying to get some legislation passed; planning a Christmas party for about 300 people; and organizing a photo shoot for about 50 garbage trucks.

Any time I wasn't at work, I was trying keep just enough housework done to have dishes to eat out of and clean clothes to wear to work. I've been watching a little hockey, riding a little (mostly on the trainer) and getting some last minute supplies ordered for Iceman, which is getting frighteningly close. The weather has been mostly horrible during that time.

Yesterday morning was cold and wet, but I needed to get a ride in before I went to my dad's birthday party, so I did a two-hour trainer ride. So today, when I woke up to a day that was sunny and warm (relatively speaking), why is that I couldn't make myself do anything at all? Not only did I skip the Kisscross race, I didn't even take the dogs to the dog park, or even leave the house until after 5 p.m. Honestly, I think I was just completely worn out. I just hope after the lazy day I had today I can find some energy to get through the week. I have four days of work before I head up to Traverse City to my doom. I hope I survive.

Race Across the Sky

2009-10-24T10:42:00.000-04:00

Thursday night, despite having the schedule from hell lately, we were bound and determined to go see Race Across the Sky. For those of you living under a rock, Race Across the Sky is a documentary filmed at the Leadville 100 this year. Remarkably, they showed it in two different locations in Lansing (as well as other places around the country). And just so you don't have to wonder any longer, no we weren't in the movie, even though there were some crowd shots when racers were finishing.

Though I was looking forward to the movie, it ended up being much better than I expected. I'm not going to review the movie here, though, I just want to talk a bit about some of the things I took away from my viewing.

Dave Wiens is an incredibly nice guy. This is something I pretty much already knew, but it is obvious when you watch the movie and see the panel discussion before and after. Due to the fact that we were in Colorado during Leadville and right after it, we heard about Dave Wiens a lot. He's a local boy, which is one of the reasons why they love him so much. But it's not just that—it's also how down to earth and unassuming he seems, even with all the success he's experienced. Now, don't get me wrong, I love, love, love Lance Armstrong, but I don't think anyone could ever call him unassuming or down to earth. I've been reading Dave's blog since we returned from Crested Butte. He lives in Gunnison, so it offered a good way to get a glimpse of that area. But I've found out from reading it (as much as you can from reading something and not actually meeting a person), that he is a really good guy. That was apparent in many parts of the movie, but never as much as when he thanks the volunteers when riding away from an aid station, getting ready to go back to chasing Lance. The race founder, Ken Chlouber, calls this part out specifically in the panel discussion after the movie, but it had already resonated with me, even before that.
Leadville is even harder than I'd imagined. I've heard it described on numerous Web sites, including that of Fat Cyclist, who has raced it nearly every year it has been in existence. Even so, the magnitude of gnarly is amplified by seeing the movie and watching people struggle through the course. I imagine in person it's even more so, particularly if you are the one racing. It's an incredibly nasty, tough race. Of course it would have to be for Lance Armstrong to call this the race that made him want to return to racing.
There are things that are much, much more disheartening than my last Kisscross experience, like having two knee replacement surgeries then training hard all year for one race, only to be turned away by one of your good friends (who also happens to be the race founder) four hours into it because you didn't make the cut off. It was really interesting to hear the back stories of some of the racers and to hear some of the motivation of those who weren't leading the race.
Even I am probably better at changing a tire than Lance Armstrong. I remembered hearing during the race that he had ridden the last bit of the race on a flat, but I had forgotten about it until I watched the movie. After Lance gets a flat with about seven miles left to go, he tries to put air in the tire with a CO2 cartridge (without doing anything else with the tire) and when that doesn't work, not knowing how far back Dave is, and not trusting his tire-changing skills, decides to ride the rest of the way on the flat. That being said, during the panel discussion after the movie, the other guys were ribbing him about it, saying he was looking for the team car to help him, and he took it in a very good natured way. But what was happening with his hair in that movie, anyway? It was crazy looking!
I really, really want to move to Colorado even more now, especially after hearing about some of the new races they're trying to organize.
"You're better than you think you are and you can do more than you think you can." Ken Chlouber

If you haven't seen it, I would definitely recommend catching it on the DVD or the encore event on Nov. 12.

We'll Call It the Race From Hell

2009-10-22T07:25:00.000-04:00

Last Sunday, after a long day of going upstairs and downstairs and upstairs and downstairs all day long cleaning out the attic and the basement, I drove to Caledonia for some Kisscross. There was no doubt that I was tired and my legs were sore from all the stair action, but I felt decent when I started warming up. I was a bit uncomfortable given the fact that I couldn't find my tights anywhere and I was wearing my only pair of knickers (the same ones my beagle chewed a big hole in the butt of) with bike shorts. The place where the hole was was rubbing and the double chamois wasn't doing me any favors either. But all in all, I thought I would have an okay race.

I was excited after how competitive the last Kisscross race was, so I did something similar—I picked someone in the lineup I wanted to beat and I thought it would help motivate me. (And no, she wasn't wearing pink.) The race started and I hung off the back like I usually do, but I wasn't separated from the pack. I took the first hurdles okay, but there were too many people right in front of me to get close to them. My form needs a bit of work still, but it is definitely much better.

Not even halfway into the first lap, disaster struck. (I know that will sound melodramatic, given what actually happened, but it was the beginning of a chain of frustrating events, which made it worse.) I was going down an extremely rooted downhill in a wooded section. As I started up the next hill, I tried to pedal and nothing happened. I had dropped my chain and spent a considerable amount of time trying to get it back on.

By the time I got out of the woods, I couldn't see anyone in front of me and I think part of me gave up at that point. Still, I kept riding and promptly wiped out when I took a slippery corner too wide. When I got up, my brake was rubbing pretty bad and I stood there for a while trying to fix it.

At this point, I was starting to get a bad attitude. I kept riding, but I was far behind everyone. I started getting lapped during my second lap. I had two more wipeouts in corners. One happened just as some riders were going past to lap me. One of them yelled "hang in there," which I took okay, but the other one said "careful." I didn't say anything, but I was seething. I guess that says something about where my attitude was. Things that normally would have sounded encouraging just sounded condescending and patronizing.

Another low point came when I was going through a set of chicanes near the end of the lap. Our friend Frank was on the sidelines cheering when he saw his 9-year-old son gaining on me. I have talked about Billy here before and we all know he's awesome, but Frank was cheering for him to lap me and I just felt demoralized.

Little did I know, the worst humiliation was yet to come. I rode my fifth lap with all the other racers off the course. There were however, some racers pre-riding for the next race, which they're not supposed to do. I snapped at one guy who acted like I was in his way. Apparently he didn't know I was still racing because he seemed contrite after he found out, but I just sounded like a huge jerk anyway.

I know I say this all the time, but I have never wanted to quit a race so badly before. It was absolutely the worst race I have ever had, hands down. Still, I somehow made myself keep going all the way to the mortifying finish. When I got to the very end, I came up a hill and saw that the racers were already lined up for the next race. Someone yelled for them to get out of the way and they started parting, Red Sea-like, in the middle so I could ride through them to the finish line. As I was riding through, they all started clapping and cheering. I wanted to disappear.

Now if that had been my first race, or even my second, I might have found that encouraging. Given the circumstances, I just felt demoralized and embarrassed.

All that said, there were some good things that happened during this race. Unfortunately, this post is far too long and I am going to be late for work, so I'll have to talk about them later.

Picture This, Only Snowier

2009-10-21T07:15:00.009-04:00

In case you were wondering, I do still want to move to Crested Butte. We're still trying to work things out—scheming and planning. In fact, filling that big trash container last weekend was the first in many steps to get our house ready to go on the market. But things like this take time. It's not going to happen until sometime in 2010 at the absolute earliest.

So, what are we going to do in the interim, besides getting ready to move and all the other everyday stuff? Why plan another trip to Crested Butte, of course! In an unprecedented move, I have decided to forgo traditional Christmas present giving to and receiving from my husband and do one of those "let's buy something together instead of getting each other gifts" things I said I'd never do even after I got married.

In a fortuitous turn of events when we were flying out of Aspen in August to return from our trip, we volunteered to get bumped from an overweight plane (no comments from the peanut gallery, please). Not only did we still catch our connecting flight and make it home at the same time, we scored two free plane tickets for anywhere in the U.S. with no blackout dates. So, between free tickets and gifting each other, we decided we could have several days' vacation back in Crested Butte.

That way, we can accomplish several useful things:

We can get our Crested Butte fix since we've been pining away for it.
We can hopefully make some connections that will help us when we make our move.
We can silence those naysayers who claim we won't want to move to Crested Butte when we see what it's like in the winter (this means you, DG).
We can finally do something fun for New Year's.
I can spend my birthday in Crested Butte!

So, that's the plan. We reserved our tickets yesterday and we already have hotel reservations made. We fly out on New Year's Eve morning at 6. I can't wait!

By the way, for those of you who are wondering, I did end up racing on Sunday. However, it was such an inauspicious showing that I haven't really wanted to think about it. I'll get a recap posted soon, though. It's too horrible not to share.

How I Spent My Weekend

2009-10-17T18:36:00.000-04:00

I hope I have some energy left for the race tomorrow.

6 Hours of Addison Oaks Race Report

2009-10-13T21:50:00.000-04:00

We had a rare bit of sunshine last weekend, just in time for my last endurance race of the year. The day started out fairly well. Miraculously, I didn't get lost on the way to the venue and arrived with plenty of time to get ready. I parked in the pit area and registered. There was only one other woman registered for the 6 hour race, but it was still pretty early, so I thought that would probably change.

My race preparations didn't go so well. Chris had switched out my saddle the night before and yet again, I found myself scrambling at the last minute because I hadn't prepared well enough. The angle of my saddle didn't seem right and I tried without success to adjust it on my own. Ha! I couldn't get the screws to turn at all. Finally, feeling pathetic and girly, I broke down and asked the guy parked next to me to help. He didn't really understand how to do it either, though, so I finally gave up.

By the time I lined up to start, there were four women waiting to race the 6 hours. I didn't recognize any of them, though, and I didn't know any of their names, so I had no idea whether or not I was racing against any of the women who were close to me in the Michigan Endurance Cup standings. I hung out in the back, but remarkably, there were a few people behind me as I rolled over the grassy section on the way to the trail. Even so, they all passed me on the first uphill. My legs felt like lead as they usually do at the beginning of a race, so I just relaxed and settled in for a long, slow ride.

About two miles into the lap, I realized something was terribly, terribly wrong. My lower back was screaming in pain and it was all I could do to keep pedaling. I know my core isn't that strong, but usually my back just gets tired—there isn't actually pain. I had a sinking suspicion that my saddle was the culprit. I would be lucky if I could finish one lap.

I slogged through the rest of the lap extremely slowly. By the end, I was walking all the uphills. I could barely ride at all anymore. As I pulled through the checkpoint, Brent (the race promoter) gave me some encouraging words. I asked him to direct me toward the neutral bike shop support tent, but as it turns out, the guy who was supposed to be providing the support was out racing. Brent kindly took me over to the bike shop tent to make use of their tools and adjusted my saddle for me.

When I got on the bike again, I immediately felt the difference. Stopping for just a second at the pit area to top off my water, I started another lap. It was such a relief not to have an awkward saddle that was causing excruciating back pain that I felt awesome. It was a gorgeous day and though it was a bit cool, I warmed up fast. I was having fun going over all the little obstacles, enjoying the trail and just loving the ride. My race had been saved.

After another very short break, I started my third lap. By the time I had ridden a mile, I was exhausted and could barely get my legs to keep pedaling. What a disappointment! I knew I wasn't in optimal shape, but I didn't think it was that bad. I really just think it was so exhausting to slog through that first lap in pain that I got worn out faster than I would have otherwise.

When I finally finished the third lap, I went back to my car for a rest. I had already planned to leave an hour before the race was over because I had to get back to Lansing. I knew if I was going to make it through another lap I would need to take more than a short rest. After a few calculations, I realized I didn't really have time for another lap if I wanted to leave on time. It was an easy decision not to go back out again.

It was a pretty disappointing race, not only because I didn't do well, but because I'm still making the same stupid errors in judgment I was making earlier in the season. If anything, it seems I'm less prepared for races than I was before. Not only was I undertrained, I made really dumb choices by not having my saddle changed sooner so I would have time and help adjusting it prior to the race. I have one mountain bike race left this season. I will be ready for Iceman. I know I won't be able to improve my fitness that much before the race, but I will make sure my bike is ready.

Silver Lining

2009-10-04T11:48:00.008-04:00

The conditions for yesterday's race seemed like a foregone conclusion. I awoke to clouds, cold and spitting rain. I drove through the same all the way to Grand Rapids. I started my warm up on a chilly, rainy course. And then, when I had finished my warm up laps and was practicing running the barriers over and over, the sun started peeking through the clouds. By the time I was in the thick of the race, the sun was shining full on, and I was sweating like crazy and wishing I'd left my jacket behind.

While I was doing my warm up laps, I was thinking that I really didn't want to race. This is nothing new. I constantly get nerved up before a race, but this felt different. It was more like I just didn't care. I don't remember ever feeling so apathetic. I think that coming in last all the time and never being competitive is starting to get to me. However, I haven't been practicing for nothing, and I didn't drive all the way there and pay my money just so I could bail. So I focused myself on one goal—doing a good job on my dismounts. I hoped that would be enough to get me through the race.

There was another big crowd at the starting line. I took my usual place at the back and started sizing up the people around me. There was a girl there in some kind of all pink riding kit. For some reason I fixated on her and decided I wanted to beat her. She was skinny, looked pretty serious, and I didn't figure I had much of a chance, but I guess I needed more motivation to race.

We took off and I started out riding fairly hard. Something was different. There were people ahead of me, but they weren't far ahead of me. I was feeling pretty good, so I shifted and started speeding up. I passed a few people. The girl in the pink was quite a bit ahead of me, but I was gaining on her.

By the second lap, I was still riding hard, but wondering how long I could sustain the effort without blowing up. I felt more competitive than I've ever felt in a race, and instead of just deciding to slow down because I was tired, I wanted to push myself until I truly couldn't take it anymore.

Somewhere in lap 3, I caught up with the girl in pink and passed her, along with a guy who was right behind her. She was breathing down my neck for at least another entire lap. At one point, she passed me briefly, but I passed her back almost immediately. The guy was still there, hanging back a bit behind both of us. Finally, it was the last lap. I about killed myself trying to sustain the effort. My lungs were burning and I thought I was going to explode any minute.

In the last set of switchbacks, I was struggling to stay ahead of her and the guy, who were both just behind me. As the last stretch began, she suddenly motored past me. The guy started to go, but I wasn't going to let both of them pass me at the end. I dug in and found something there to stay in front of him.

I never did catch her, but I came in 29th out of 34, meaning I beat 5 whole people. I felt better about this race than I have felt about a race in a long time. Needless to say, I can't wait for the next one. Unfortunately, I'm going to have to wait two weeks.

I Might Get the Hang of This Before the Season is Over After All

2009-10-01T06:54:00.002-04:00

Burchfield was lousy with deer last night when I went out there with my cross bike after work. I saw at least 10 of them in the hour and a half I was there. Other than the fact that it was too cold for bike shorts and I had to wear knickers and my eyes watered non-stop the entire time (really bad allergies this year for the first time since college), I had an excellent ride. I did two laps of the super secret cross loop, which included two go-rounds with my nemesis downhill, the one that inexplicably scares me on my mountain bike. Last night I rode that downhill full-tilt, with not even a hint of brakes. My confidence level on the cross bike is clearly growing—now my skill level and fitness just need to catch up.

I got the inevitable strange looks from people when I was riding and one person even asked me why I was riding trails on a road bike. I didn't take time to try and explain the difference. After my ride, I practiced my dismounts for a while. I was nailing them almost from the beginning. What the heck? Why can't I do it during the race? Stage fright?

Then I remembered Anne telling me to practice along the trail, just pick a place to dismount every so often. So, I did another partial loop of the trail, practicing my dismounts in a more real-life situation. I was a little more hesitant because I was going faster, it wasn't an open area and the ground was a little less flat, but by the time I finished, I was getting it. I actually think I'm ready for barriers now!

My plan is to go out again tonight and practice more. Then I'll try to get to Kisscross early enough on Saturday that I have time to not only warm up, but to actually practice my dismounts with barriers. I'm beginning to think I'll actually get the hang of this after all.

Ithaca Grand Prix of Cyclocross Race Report

2009-09-29T18:25:00.011-04:00

I decided to try my hand at a little non-Kisscross cross racing on Sunday at the Ithaca Grand Prix of Cyclocross. I have to admit I was a bit apprehensive in the days leading up to the race. Due to our late start, however, I didn't have much time to fret about it once we got there. My first rude awakening came when I went to register. Since I forgot to pre-register, the cost was $30, plus another $10 for a one-day USAC license. Ouch!

By the time I finished registering, Chris had gotten my bike ready for me. I got out on the course to begin my warm up. My initial impression was that it wasn't that bad. It seemed quite a bit longer than a Kisscross course, but not significantly harder, other than a few uphill sections, one of which I ended up walking on my practice lap because I waited too long to start shifting.

Then came rude awakening #2. We lined up for the race. Since there wasn't a C class for women, I had to race with B women, who left in a second wave 30 seconds after the C men. The two under 14 competitors, including Billy the phenom, left 30 seconds behind us. After listening to the instructions, I asked how many laps we would be doing. I got a funny look for my effort, followed by an explanation.

It seems that this race would be based solely on time. In a Kisscross race, Rick estimates how many laps he thinks the average C racer can do in 30 minutes and sets that number of laps for the race. Apparently in other cross races, the actual time determines when the race ends. Not only that, everyone finishes the race on the same lap. Once the leaders started their last lap, whether I was on the same lap number as them or not, that would be my last lap, too. I think this was probably started so as not to have to wait for the really slow people to finish all the laps, like what happens at Kisscross.

What this little wrinkle meant was that I needed to try to hold out as long as I could without getting lapped. That would enable me to ride as many laps as possible. If I could only fit one lap in, it was going to end up being one really expensive lap.

The other thing that was new to me was something called a prime" (pronounced "preem"). When the race began, everyone sprinted up to a line. The first person crossing the line received a special bonus prize after the race. This race was serious. There was even a pit area where riders stored extra wheels, and sometimes even spare bikes, in case of a mishap.

The other women got ahead of me fairly quickly. Billy caught up with me and passed me. I just kept my head down and tried to ride hard. My goal was to hold off the leaders as long as I could without being lapped. (It happened about midway through the second lap.) I also wanted to keep from getting lapped by any of the other women, which I managed to accomplish.

Now you would think with Anne standing near the steps cheering me on, that I would manage to put some of my dismounting practice to good use so she wouldn't feel like she wasted her time on me. Unfortunately, once I got in the race I just couldn't seem to do it. I'm hoping to get out for more practice tomorrow night. I think I just need to get used to it so it becomes normal. Hopefully, I'll be able to do it this weekend at Kisscross.

I ended up racing three laps for the leaders' four laps. Then we watched Anne crush the competition in the Elite Women's race and Frank putting in a good performance in the Single Speed category.

We hung around for awards and raffled prizes. I ended up leaving with a Vetta computer and a Twin Six t-shirt, which more than made up for the $40 I spent. Plus I had a great time. If we are still around next fall, this race will definitely be on my schedule.

Thanks to Dennis Pace for taking the serious-looking picture of me at the top