Thoughts on Training

Tuesday is generally my favorite day of the week.  I take off Tuesday and Sunday from work, you see. Sundays are full of riding, society, and sometimes chores about the house.  Tuesdays are all mine.  I can sleep as late as I like (wow, 7:30!!!), sit in bed drinking coffee and catching up on the internet, and then go out for my ride whenever I feel like it.  It doesn't make me feel especially productive or industrious, but it is really good for general feelings of well-being.  Usually I spend some time in there cleaning the house or running errands, but I do them at my leisure, which is exactly how I like to take care of such things.

After three weeks of hard rides on my Tuesdays, I've earned a rest week and all I plan on doing on my bike today is an easy spin with some cyclocross drills (I seem to have misplaced my practice barrier so today's errands include a trip to the hardware store for PVC joints).  I'm pretty excited about a nice easy week on the bike, as are my legs, which are sort of aching as I'm just sitting here.  But it's that building-muscle-ache, so I think I'm doing something right.  We're 3.5 weeks out from the informal CX season opener, and I am so anxious to see how much the hard work will show in my results.  While I agree that hard training and dedication are a reward in themselves, let's be honest, this is about winning races. Or at least coming closer than before.

Saturdays are generally the hardest day I have.  I've been up at 5 so I can be on my bike at 6 and do a hard 2 hour ride before coming home and getting ready to work 9-5.  I realized this past Saturday that there is an added benefit to getting up at such an obscene hour on a weekend day.  It's as though my body is still so groggy for the first part of my ride that it doesn't register what it's being put through, and my head is so foggy that there are no intervening thoughts to distract me from the task at hand.   It makes those super long, tough intervals go by so easily.

On Sunday I went out for a long, solo ride on my cyclocross bike.  I rode pavement out to Appleton Farms, cut through on the double and singletrack that run through there, rode through Bradley Palmer State Park and hit some fantastic singletrack that runs along the edge there, and then rode through Willowdale, hitting most of the XC race course in there.  The roots were pretty wet and slick, and I wiped out on one section, causing a guy on a MTB to catch me.  He stopped to chat and said something to the effect of, "Oh, it's a little rocky for a CX bike in here."  At that very moment, Tim Johnson (multi-time CX national champion and North Shore resident) rode up on his CX bike.  He proceeded to compliment my choice of steed, note that we were running the same tires, and invite me to ride with him and his friend.  They were heading in the opposite direction as me so I declined, but it was sort of a neat encounter, as I've not been in the area long enough to be desensitized to running into national champions on the trails.  Anyway, I rode out to Linebrook Rd. on the other side of Willowdale and looped back home on the pavement.  It was such a fun ride, I really can't wait to do it again.

Anyway, now I suppose I ought to make my leisurely way out of bed and do some things.  'Til next time, here's another Europe pic.  It's me at the Eiffel Tower.

All In

Whoa, long time without a blog post.  What have I been doing?  What haven't I been doing?

I did some more bike racing.  Didn't go too well, but it's cool.

I went to Europe for two weeks with my dad.  A week in Denmark,  a week in Paris.  It was indescribable.  I can't possibly write a blog post about it, seriously.  Maybe I'll post a couple pictures from time to time, but I wouldn't even know where to begin.

Came back, worked a bit, rode some.  My mom came out to visit me, and we're at the tail end of her visit.  Today we rode, then went for a sail.  I have a pretty spectacular sunburn.

That pretty much gets us caught up.

So what am I blogging about then?

Cyclocross.

Without getting into it too much, the time I spent in Europe opened my eyes to possibilities.  Endless, endless possibilities.  And I want to be free to explore those possibilities, without having any regrets.  Of all the things I anticipate regretting, top of the list would be never committing myself fully to racing my bike.  So this cyclocross season I'm going all in.  Okay, I'm still working 40 hours a week, but I'm approaching my training and my life with a level of serious commitment that I've never practiced.

How serious am I?  Pretty darn serious.  I'm not drinking alcohol until January 14th (the day after nationals).  I am, so far, 7 pounds lighter than I was when I got back from Europe.  I have done all the little extra things that make a better athlete - daily yoga, daily core strength exercises.  I have two gorgeous new bikes to race on.  I am on a fantastically supportive team.  I am going all in.

If I do something crazy next spring, like sail to the caribbean or ride around Europe (I'm not saying I will, I'm just saying anything is possible) I will have no regrets, no "what might have been" moments to look back on.

Okay, here's one Europe picture.  It's me and Napoleon.  Seriously.

Stages of Acceptance

Finally, several days after the fact, I'm writing about What Happened At Sterling.  It's taken me this long to process it and come to terms with, well, what happened.  

Basically, I got dropped on the first climb.  

Now, leading up to this race I was having some of the best training rides of my life, objectively.  My power numbers are higher than they've ever been, my nutrition has been excellent, and my life is very low in stress and high in quality sleep.  I spent the week leading up to it working on my mental preparation.  I have a beautiful new-ish bike that was functioning perfectly (well, until the flat tire, but that's actually pretty irrelevant), fantastic equipment, food, support, etc.  Shouldn't this equal improved results?  

This is how my emotions went during and after the event.

"I'm getting dropped."  - comic incredulity, in other words, disbelief.

To Cody, "I suck, I'm no good at this, I'm going to quit bike racing.  I'm a failure."  - bitter depression, obviously.  Give Cody a gold star for talking me down from the ledge, by the way.  Poor fella.

To my co-workers/family, "I don't want to talk about it."  - denial.  

And finally, "I understand what happened.  This is what I can do to not have that happen again."  - acceptance.

During my painful (Zone 5 interval) training ride today, I realized that I just totally choked.  My legs weren't so great, there were skinny people on the front making it hard, it was a steep hill.  I spent so much time mentally preparing for the race that instead of just riding intuitively and sticking on the wheel ahead of me, I started over thinking.  I got in my own way, stuck in my own head.  I want a do-over.  But there are no do-overs in life, just next time.  

I've got to go now, because Cody's coming home with baby ducks.  Seriously, guys, Baby.  Ducks.  Can we all agree that there's nothing cuter than a baby duck?  Of course we can.

By the way, I'm just joking about that whole stages of grieving shit, you know?  If the worst tragedy that happens to me is to get dropped in a bike race my life is pretty sweet.  

Seriously, there's going to be like, 6 of these at our house any minute now!!!

Racing Bikes is Fun

I've been waiting to write a race report for this one because I was hoping someone would put up some sweet pics of me looking competent on my bike.  After several days and nothing surfacing I've decided I should just write the darn report already.

The night after Quabbin I had this recurring dream that I was riding in a pack and the girl in front of me slammed on her brakes.  I'd jerk awake, only to have the dream again (that's why I used the word "recurring").  Anyway, I thought maybe I'd have more fun racing in the dirt, so I opted out of Bennington and drove to RI for the Battle at Burlingame.  As additional incentive, I have a shiny new Trek Fuel EX.  It's a sick trail bike, and I have it set up stock with the huge 2.3 tires that came on it.  Perfect for the trail riding I do out here, not exactly an uphill speed-machine, though.  But the whole point of racing MTBs is to have fun, and that bike is wicked fun.

Wicked sexy, too.

Cody was off at Highlands DH park for opening weekend, so on Sunday morning I loaded up my dog and my bike and drove to Charleston, RI.  I pulled into Burlingame State Park and the attendant at the gate told me, "You can't bring a dog in here.  They were supposed to tell you."  Um.  Crap.  It's possible that "they" did tell me and I just didn't read the small print, but come on!  This is a MTB race.  Bikes, beer, dogs, right?  "But you can bring your dog in if you rent a camp site."  Oh.  Ok.  Well, I drove all this way.  And it was just $20, practically free by campground standard rates, these days.  Stressful decision making averted, I paid my fee and parked.

I got my number, suited up, and realized I'd forgotten my gloves.  S&^%!  It's OK, it'll be OK.  What's 27 miles of trails without gloves?   (Did I mention the race was 27.5 miles?  5 x 5.5 miles.  That's pretty darn long for a mountain bike race.  I cat'ed down and raced Expert, too.  The pros did 33.  F&^% that.).  Anyway, I headed out to warm up a bit.  I didn't have a ton of time, so I rode out on the course for a few minutes, then back.  I had about 40 oz of water in my hydration pack, 4 Gu shots, and some Chomps.  I had some nutrition issues at Quabbin, and I was determined not to let that happen today.

We lined up at the start.  All 2 of us.  Yes, 2 expert women in the 19-39 age range showed up.  We started chit chatting and she asked if I'd pre-ridden the course.  "Only the first part."  "Did you get to The Bridges?"  Um.  Bridges?  Maybe I should have gotten up earlier and gotten in a lap.  C'est la vie.  We were sent off last, at least 10 minutes behind the pro women (of whom there were 4).  Anyway, I let the other girl take the lead as she clearly had spent more time on course than me and I figured I could follow her lines.  There was one somewhat large log across the trail near the beginning, and we were both off our bikes running over it.  One super-smooth CX remount later, I realized I had a problem.  My saddle had slipped.  Ok.  It's OK.  It's not that bad, right?  I stayed with the other girl until we hit The Bridges.

I really should have pre-ridden.  They were wide bridges, but they had these steep little ramps leading up and down them, and between that was all wet roots and rocks.  And it was sort of a long section.  I only cleaned the whole thing once - on my final lap.  Anyway, since I was off my bike sucking at riding up these things I decided I might as well fix my seat height.  I still have the stock QR seatpost clamp on there, so at least I didn't need a tool.  Seat up, moving on.  By this point she was out of sight.  Okay, it's OK.  There's only 2 of you, the worst thing that can happen is 2nd place.  (I spend a lot of time telling myself things are going to be OK.)

The course was mostly fast, hard packed single and double track, with fast, not overly-steep climbs and some super fun railing descents.  But.  There was one section that was clearly freshly cut, and it had all the annoyingness of a freshly cut trail that isn't terribly well thought out  hasn't been ridden on much, until 200 bike racers try to ride it at speed.  It was sort of up and down, with rocks and roots and no flow at all.  It ended with a rock roller into a loose, rooty chute.  Wee.  Again, I only rode it completely cleanly on 1 out of 5 laps.  After that you had a super fast descent, two short steep climbs, and then a bunch of grinding back to the start/finish.

The Bad

• I got 2nd.  Also, last.
• I ran out of water on my last lap.
• My seat slipped again.
• I got lapped by a bunch of dudes.

The Good

• I got 2nd!
• I managed to keep my head when I ran out of water.  "It's OK.  You're going to be OK."  I was.
• When I put my seat back up for a second time I tightened the clamp down more and it stayed there.
• Those dudes that lapped me started at least 10 minutes ahead of me.
• My bike is sick.  People would be catching me on the climbs and then we'd hit the fast descents and I'd totally gap them again.  2.3's might suck on the way up, but they're money on the way down.
• I stayed positive the whole race.  After the first two laps I was like, "Really?  3 more of those?"  But I rode strong the whole time.  I was exhausted at the end, so I left it all out there, but even on the last lap I had some power in the legs.

Afterwards I decided to stick around for podiums since the race flier promised "merch" to the Expert women.  They finally did awards 40 minutes after the race finished, but just handed stuff out, not calling people onto the podium that was 5 feet away.  Whatevs.   But you know what I got?  A medal and a $15 gift certificate to NBX (it's a bike shop in RI).  Seriously?  I work at a bike shop, and I'm never going to be in Narragansett to redeem a gift certificate. I was pretty pissed off that I'd delayed my long drive home for that.  Oh well.  I'm not bagging on the race organizer, by the way.  Okay, maybe I am.  But the race was really well put on, it was a super fun course, and for the average person who lives in RI and doesn't work at shop that's a pretty killer prize.  

But.

Hey race organizers!  Stop giving out medals!  Unless it's for a kids race or your event is called "The Olympics" it just ends up on a dusty shelf somewhere.  

Anyway, the good news is that without that medal I wouldn't be able to bring you this adorable photo of my dog.

But maybe the race organizers sensed my irritation, because they gave me the medal for 1st place.  

Now I can fool my friends and relatives into thinking I won.

Quabbin!

I remember last year hearing about this non-USAC race, and people were going back and forth about why don't they make it USAC vs. why it's good that it's not.  I don't actually have an opinion on the subject, but the race in question was the Quabbin Reservoir Road Race.  I pre-reg'ed early because they threatened to cancel the women's field if it didn't look like there would be a very big field, so I was committed, more or less.  The preceding week my training was going really well.  Numbers-wise I was back to where I was before getting sick, and actually up a couple of watts.  That was really encouraging, and a relief to know my whole season wasn't going to be a game of catch-up.  

I got up early on Saturday morning for the 2+ hour drive to Ware, MA.  My googlemaps directions totally sucked and I got incredibly lost once I got off I-90.  Some guy in an Audi decided he was going to follow me - joke's on him, I had no idea where I was going.  Eventually I found my own way to get there, no thanks to my abysmal directions, and arrived with adequate time.  It was cold.  The race begins with a 3 mile gradual descent (that you then climb back up for the finish) and it was hard to dress properly knowing how chilly it was going to be on the way down.  I hear that last year it was raining, so it was nice that at least the sun was shining down on us.  

The majority of the 3000 feet of climbing on this course is in the first 34 of 65 miles.  The field was pretty large, and I haven't ridden in a large pack in almost two years.  I kept telling myself to relax and just work on positioning.  I didn't want to be last wheel when we hit some climbs and people started getting shelled. For the first 30 miles or so that worked out really well for me.  I was near the front and feeling very comfortable.  One girl was off the front but no one seemed very concerned because it was so early in the race and very windy out.  After about 30 miles we hit one longer climb and I started going backwards.  C'est la vie, it was nice while it lasted.  I ended up with a group of 5 girls who, well, I've never been stuck in a race with a group with such a poor grasp on how to organize a paceline.  Seriously.  One girl would get on the front and hammer her brains out, then yell at everyone else for not pulling through.  I decided someone needed to organize things a little and started giving directions.  "Okay, let's get a nice little paceline going and catch up to the pack!  Come on, nice short pulls and then move over and drop back so the next person can pull through!"  I moved over to let someone pull through and it was the girl who'd been dragging everyone else around.  I motioned her through and she yelled, "But I've been doing all the work!"  To which I responded, "It's OK, everyone's cool, just pull through and then get off the front and move to the back to recover.  Come on ladies, we need each other, let's work together and communicate nicely, OK?"  As everyone in the group started to organize we started making time on the pack.  We had to go through a caravan of non-race related vehicles to get up there which was wicked sketchy.  But, we caught the pack.  I told everyone "nice work!  Thanks for helping out!"  Sheesh.  Seriously, I don't mean to get negative here, but I know this wasn't anyone's first race or time riding in a group, you KNOW how to paceline.  And what's with all the angry people?  Maybe I've just been away from road racing for a while, but I don't remember my NCNCA peeps being so bitchy.  Whatevs.  

Anyway, we hadn't been back with the lead pack for very long before we hit another punchy little climb and I went backwards again.  Long and short of it is - I had 30 miles of awesome in my legs, not 65.  The second half of the race I spent working with a different, slightly more friendly and cooperative (although totally clueless on how to form a nice paceline) group of girls who'd gotten dropped well before me but worked together to catch me.  That is, until we hit the last climb and I went backwards, again.  

But I'd prefer not to think about limping across the line alone, off the back, but rather focus on the good.  I had a truly stellar first 30 miles.  My endurance apparently sucks, and I haven't gotten many long rides in since March, but I'm good for the short distance, which, really, is what's going to count come September.  And there's plenty of time for long rides as we ease into summer, here.  

Anyway, I was fortunate enough to follow up Saturday's sufferfest with a lovely Sunday that included mountain biking, sailing, napping, motorcycle rides, PBR, and ice cream.  

Anyway.  Happy Monday!

Busy busy!

It's sort of crazy how much less time I have for all the little things when my work schedule goes from 25 hrs a week to 40+ (full time at the shop and continuing with a couple personal training clients - to say nothing of the 12+ hours I should be spending on my bike).  But it's good.  I feel good about the change.  Working at the shop is fun.

Anyway, I am super pumped on life today because I had a fantastic ride yesterday.  It's the first time I've felt really strong since getting sick a month ago.  And the numbers backed me up - highest power output for the given workout to date!  It was one of those days that I had to drag myself out the door to ride, too. The winds were gusting, it wasn't particularly warm, and I was feeling sort of tired and blah.  So it was pretty cool to have such a great workout.  Positive Reinforcement.

This photo was actually from a week ago, when it was almost 90 degrees out and I stopped to soak my legs in the ocean on the way home.  When I miss the Sierra Nevada and Tahoe it helps to spend time on the ocean.  It's the only thing big enough out here to compare.  We went for a sail on Saturday night.  It was pretty cool, until it got dark and the wind sort of wasn't doing us any favors.  But it's such a contrast to sailing in the summer, where you've got dozens of powerboats zooming by, and you can't really stay out until past dark (it's sort of illegal), but harbor patrol isn't out yet, and it was so quiet.

Anywho, I have a race this weekend that I'm actually pretty excited for now that I've had a good, encouraging ride.  There's a huge women's field too, so yay bike racing!

Back at it

I had a good weekend.  It started with a fun party for Cody at the house that involved a game of glow-in-the-dark ultimate frisbee that was, I would venture to say, a spectacular success.  Especially since no one was seriously injured, which seemed like a very real possibility when you have 30 adults running around a dark field littered with hidden rocks, bushes and furry black dogs, and with nothing but a glowing dollar-store necklace to illuminate them.  Well, not quite.  I think our saving grace was the enormous full moon that actually lit up the field pretty well.  Anyway, glow-in-the-dark ultimate.  Awesome.  And it helped work out the rest of the crap left in my lungs from 2 weeks of sick.  And I made chili, that everyone seemed to enjoy, despite the fact that, uh, I just dumped everything in a big pot and cooked it for a day.  Master chef here.  Right.  Secret ingredients or something.  And cupcakes!

This was the tiramisu batch, which was probably the most photogenic, what with the marscapone/whipped cream topping.  Yeah, and sometimes I eat cupcakes full of wheat, sugar, and butter.  Yum.

Anyway, while the party was incredibly fun, by far the highlight of the weekend for me was getting out for 3 hours on my shiny new bike on Sunday, with some 3x8 LT intervals.  They hurt!*  I wanted to quit a thousand times, my HR was sky high and my power really dropped off by the last one, but I woke up this morning feeling better than I have in 2 weeks.  Physically, yes, but mostly it helped my head a ton.  Motivation, enthusiasm, morale, and overall cheerfulness have returned.  Excellent.  But I've decided to bail on Battenkill, since I feel like I need to regain any  lost fitness to jump into a race like that.  Instead I'll head down to Plymouth for the little Myles Standish State Forest Road Race.  It's shorter, and closer, and generally less demanding.  But I need to race my bike!

*I feel compelled to add that, yes, of course they always hurt, but aiming for the same power range I was training in 2 weeks ago, after 2 weeks of no intensity at all, was unusually, but unsurprisingly, difficult.  But my new bike is rad!