The Aftermath

From the outside I'm sure it looks like no big deal.  And really, as far as life's decisions go, it isn't a big deal.  But in my head the decision to stop racing bikes, and share that with my friends and family, felt like a Big Fucking Deal.

I've come to look at it the way one might approach a coming out of another sort.  For months I told myself that I didn't really want to stop racing bikes, I just needed to keep riding and doing my training and I would come to love it again.  At a certain point, after yet another unsatisfying training ride that left me not energized but sort of sad, I had to admit to myself that, yes, I'm  ready to stop racing bikes.  Then I started agonizing about telling my friends, team, coworkers - how would they react to the news that I wasn't a bike racer anymore?  Would they reject me?  Judge me?  How would I even tell them?  And in the end, being surrounded by all these amazing people, all those important people in my life accepted my decision and loved me just the same.  I should have known that it would be so; how could I have doubted it for an instant?  And I felt gratitude and relief and happiness - all indicators that I had made the right decision.

Sure, I can always change my mind, but right now I have no desire to race bikes at all.

No, instead I think I'll go run a marathon.

I've come to realize in the last couple weeks that the world is divided between those people who think it would be fun to run 26 miles and those who don't.  It's not a judgement thing - there are saints and assholes on either side of that line.  We all have our strengths, and wanting to enter races where I'll most assuredly cry with relief when it's over is one of mine.  Don't get me started on my weaknesses - we rearranged our house to accommodate (turns out spelling accommodate is a serious weakness of mine) a pull-up bar 2 months ago and I have yet to so much as try to do a pull up.  The very idea of finishing some sort of graduate degree makes me feel overwhelmed enough to curl up in a little ball in the corner for the rest of the day.  No, my strength is definitely in thinking things that physically uncomfortable are actually quite enjoyable (except the dentist.  Never the dentist).

So I've got a training plan to try to execute a sort-of not-hella-slow marathon in October.  I'm really excited about it.  I'm sure that in the last several miles (if not the first, oh, I dunno, 26) I'll deeply regret this decision, and I'm equally sure that I'll weep with relief when it's over.  I find this exciting.

But in the meantime, here's some pictures of random stuff.

 This is our boat!  Tri-oomph.   We haven't gotten it (her?) down here yet, but when we do, ooooh boy is it going to be fun.

This is our duck.  Taking a bath.

And this is me and Cody at Niagara Falls on the way up to look at the boat, looking oh so photogenic.

A Farewell

I've been racing bikes for 8 years, with varying levels of commitment and success.  My first race was the Cool MTB race in Northern California, and from that point on my life has centered around the sport of cycling.  It's brought many of my favorite people into my life (including Cody), strengthened relationships, and given me strength, confidence, and a sense of purpose.  It's made me who I am today, in many ways.  I've sacrificed a lot for bike racing - money, time, and experiences with friends and family.

I'm ready to move on to the next adventure.

I've been thinking about this for some time.  During our Christmas vacation I was convinced of it, but I had so much fun at nationals that I decided I needed one more season of cyclocross.  The last month has shown me that, no matter how much fun I think it would be to race in the fall, I don't have the drive I once had to put in the necessary work now.  Normally I feel excited when I think if my next opportunity to race, but now my mind just wanders to the other things I want to do instead.

I want to sail, I want to run, I want to practice yoga, I want to travel, I want to be a recreational cyclist, I want to go to school and get a job that means something to me.  I want to take vacations and not worry about getting in my workouts.  I want to not always be bike-poor.  I want to get rid of my power-meter and HR monitor and just ride when I when I want to ride (which is often), easy or hard, and feel good about it.  I want to be strong and fit and balanced, even if it means I'm no longer as fast on the bike.


It's sort of terrifying to step away from it (of course I could always come back) because it's defined me, at least in my own mind, for so long.  How will I be defined now?  Of course the answer is that we aren't defined by our hobbies, by what we do, but rather by how we do it, how we conduct ourselves.

Thanks, Bike Racing, for everything.  I hope we can still be friends.

The Off Season

The best part of having cyclocross nationals in January is coming out of the tunnel at the end of the season and realizing winter is half over and I have the next two to three weeks off the bike.  Those weeks happily fall during the coldest part of the year, which means not really caring one bit if it drops down to 5 degrees.

When I lived in Reno and my focus was road racing I would be deep into training at this point and fretting about trainer rides vs. getting cold and potentially sick.  Those of us with day jobs, or limited income, or dogs (or all three!), can't jet off to Arizona to put in the miles and work on our tans.  But regardless of whether your off season falls in October or January, it's a fantastic opportunity to recharge the batteries and refocus for the coming year.  

It's also a fantastic time of year for guilt-free Ben and Jerry's consumption.

Without a doubt, the best part about of the off season is the carefree approach to activity that it affords.  Whether it's running, easy rides, cross country skiing, yoga, or just going for a walk, it can all be approached with a sense of leisure that is impossible when we're training.  I love the focus and intensity of structured training - if I didn't love it I almost certainly wouldn't return to it year after year.

But the off-season harkens back to a time before bike racing was the point around which life revolves.  For me that time encompasses the two years of cycling I did prior to that first pivotal MTB race.  Memories of many of my rides from those years remain the most vivid, even after seven intervening years of riding and racing.  They were rides where every mile was an accomplishment, every descent joyful, and every gluttonous post-ride meal deservedly devoured without guilt.  I clearly remember my first mountain bike ride with my dad up Keystone Canyon in Reno (sans helmet, no less), and the first century I completed.  Every ride was done at whatever pace felt best, with no regard for training or recovery.

I remember these rides with the nostalgic wistfulness that we view so many experiences of our youth - with a bittersweet knowledge that we can never return to that place of innocent pleasure.  If I quit racing bikes tomorrow my recreational rides wouldn't magically take on that sense of wide-eyed discovery that characterized my early riding, but for a couple weeks each winter I am able to recapture a little of that carefree spirit.

I've done long trail runs with no regard for how long or fast I travel.  If I walk, I walk.  If I want to stop and just enjoy the woods for a few minutes, I stop.  I've gone to yoga classes and struggled to not feel (like all of us bike racers do) like I need to "win" yoga.  I've been able to rediscover that every physical exertion is not a battle, with myself or anyone else.  And when the time came to get back on my bike I rode with complete disregard for the cardinal sin of the early season, and hammered up every climb in my big ring.

Tomorrow I'll do a field test to determine where my fitness is at.  The next day, and the day after, I'll probably spend multiple hours on my trainer.  I'm excited to start training again.  I'm driven to succeed and be faster this year than last.  But I'd like to hang onto that immediate sense of joy in the ride, and knowledge that, amidst the daily abuse I inflict on myself to be stronger, it's important to be kind to the body as well.  While it may not always put out as much power as I'd like, or bend as far as some, it does everything I ask of it.

Anyway, farewell, Offseason 2013.  It's been nice.

Rewind Part 2 - Cyclocross Nationals!!!

When last I left off I'd just flown out of Sacramento.  I arrived in Madison to warmer, wetter weather than I'd anticipated when I'd packed my bag 2 weeks prior.  I had literally said, "If there's precipitation it is going to be in the form of snow."  We were racing the masters race the next day, Friday, and it was looking like it was going to be very wet.  As teammates arrived one by one, some of them with delayed flights due to some pretty thick fog, we cooked dinner at our rented house and got ready to race.

When we arrived at the venue on Friday it was no longer raining, but the ice and snow was melting and creating a big, muddy mess.  I did a couple laps on the course, and wasn't feel super comfortable with it.  There were big muddy descents with unpredictable ice patches under them.  Sometimes the ice felt faster, certainly there was less resistance than on the mud, but if you slid out you were going down fast.  

Masters 30-34:

I got a front row call up!  Coach Larry came up to get my jacket and told me, "Hole shot."  Right.  Yes, that would be nice.  The official blew the whistle and we were off.  I missed my pedal but just kept going without worrying about it - eventually my cleat would find its way in.  I was probably 2nd wheel as we went into the dirt, but I had a moment of doubt and got passed by a few people.  I was still feeling solid, riding probably 6th wheel, not losing any time.  The course went up a short steep climb, then down a descent that started as hard packed dirt and transitioned to ice and mud.  From there we turned right into the set of stairs, then dropped down a short, curving descent.  I was maintaining my position, and some of the girls ahead of me were riding the descent like ninnies so I took a chance on the icey line, hoping to make up a couple places.  Unfortunately I slid out, landed right on my butt on the ice, and slid down the hill while my bike remained at the top.  I had to run back up and get my bike.  I think I got passed by 6 people during the time it took me to do that.  So that kind of sucked.  But you know what was rad?  The whole thing was so ridiculously fun.   Even sliding down the ice was fun, if frustrating.  I got back to work, picking people off, but was mired by some slower traffic and by that point all the podium spots were out of my reach.  I ended up 7th, which was frustratingly close to a nationals podium.  I crashed one other time, this one in the pit as I got tangled on my own feet and fell on my bike.  You want to see what kind of damage a bladed spoke can do to your knee when you fall on it?

But here's the thing:  I had a great race.  My fitness was very good, my bike handling was killer (there was a long, muddy, sketchy descent before the barriers and every time I rode it the rowdy spectators told me I was making up tons of time on the girls ahead of me on it), and I rode the last lap as strong as the first.  I had fun the entire time, and actually wished they'd sent us out on another lap.  It left me wanting more.  That's exactly what bike racing should be.

We had one day off between races, and I opted for a short trainer ride to aid in recovery.  Other than that I tried to relax as much as possible and stay warm and healthy.  The forecast for Sunday was looking rather grim - predicted high of 21 degrees.  Ouch.  That means that all those footprints and tire tracks and deep ruts in the mud were going to freeze solid.

I did two laps on the course (while wearing my down jacket) on Sunday morning.  The first was while it was still early and everything was hard as a rock.  Sometimes you'd be riding on a smoothed out, if frozen, track and you'd hit an ice patch and get all squirrely.  I wasn't feeling very comfortable with it.  By the time I got out on my second practice lap the sun and been shining on the frozen ground for some time and it was actually softening up in places, even though the air temperature was still well below freezing.  The softening trend gave me confidence and I was starting to get excited to race.

Elite:

I had a decent call up, fourth or fifth row, but as I was rolling to the line I realized my front tire was feeling a little squishy.  Sure enough,  I had a slow leak.  My fabulous teammate Christina was lined up next to me and I said, "Christina, I think I have a flat tire."  She felt it and was totally cool, "You'll be fine, just to straight to the pit.  I've ridden on tires that low, you'll have no problem."  The pit was only a minute into the course so I didn't have to go that far.  I wasn't ready for the whistle, but managed to get going pretty quick.  My front tire squished around on the pavement and I dropped back, afraid I was going to take out half the field.  When we hit the dirt I found myself very far back amongst girls who weren't riding the half-muddy ruts very well at all.  The tire handled better on the dirt than the pavement, so I took some chances and motored around a number of people.  The turn before the pit was still hard as a rock and people were going really slow so I jumped off to run around it and went straight for the pit.  Then, I tripped over something.  Maybe my own feet, maybe just the rutted ground. I laid it out, landing on my knees and hands on the solidly frozen earth.  Ouch.  I picked myself up as quickly as I could and hobbled the whole length of the pit to where our crew was waiting with my bike.  In conversations we've had since the race it seems they couldn't figure out why a flat tire was making me limp like that.   Haha.  Anyway, got my bike and started rolling, passing as many people as I could. As I hit the climb I realized there was something very wrong with my left index finger.  I couldn't use my front brake, which isn't a big deal, but it also made holding the bars more difficult.  If it had been my right hand and I only could use my front brake I probably would have quit, since I would have been hitting the ground every 15 seconds.  At this point I was determined have fun, pass as many people as I could, and do my very best.  The course was very muddy, and the mud would freeze solid in a matter of seconds on our frames.  My derailleurs only sometimes shifted, the rest of the time they froze into place.  My fitness was good, my bike handling was good, and I passed a good number of people.  I ended up getting pulled after a couple laps, along with over half the field.  My glove was now tight around my rapidly swelling finger.  I headed to the medical tent and determined that it probably wasn't broken.  I got to cheer for my teammates who finished 11th and 12th.  I was happy with how I dealt with a bad situation, from the flat to the finger, and I truly enjoyed my race.  Again, what more can you ask for?

Anyway, the rest of the day was spent indulging in adult beverages and off-season food with my wonderful teammates.  I flew out with a couple of them on Monday afternoon, and was so happy to have friends with me while we were stuck in Cleveland for 4 hours waiting for our connection.  Cody picked me up at the airport at midnight.

Decompress.  After 3 weeks away it's great to be home.

So ends the 2012-2013 CX season for me.  I'd love to go to Louisville, but honestly I think I'm just ready for a little down time.  You can bet that I'll be watching it from home, though!

I had such a fun season, and I grew so much as a bike racer.  I owe all the thanks to my fantastic team, LadiesFirst Racing, our fantastic sponsors, most especially Milton Cat, my super coach and team director Larry who gave me all the tools to succeed, and my inspiring teammates and all of NECX who make every race a big awesome party.  Thanks to Scott and Seaside Cycle for giving me the flexibility to race, a job I love to go to, and access to the best equipment in the world, and my co-worker and buddy Kurt who gives so much to NECX, Ladiesfirst, and myself, every single weekend, and his mini-me Matthew for the race-day dogsitting.  Thanks to Oscar of rOti Cycling Services for keeping my bikes running great throughout this muddy season.  Thanks to my parents for always supporting me and wanting to hear about my races, my dad for taking me on epic rides, and my mom for always providing sympathy even for the most trivial of injuries.  Thanks to all my non-cyclocross friends who always root for me and want to hear about my racing even if they think I'm a little nuts.  And of course thanks to Cody for giving up his weekends to pit for me, preriding the courses with me and showing me the fast lines, talking me up when I'm feeling fat and slow, supporting me in all my crazy ideas, and being a constant reminder of what is really important in life.

Whew.

Post-masters race mud-shot.

Pretty cold on Sunday morning!

What a mess!  The pits were like a war-zone.

A little post-race locally brewed recovery.  My left index wasn't any help in holding onto the beer, but I figured it was sort of like icing it, right?

Haha.  

Rewind Part 1 - So Long 2012

I think it's Tuesday.  We rolled in at 1 AM last night after being delayed in Cleveland for longer than I care to remember.  I slept until 7 AM, when our neighbor came by to use the compressor in the garage area below our barn-house.  The sound of a compressor re-compressing itself for a half hour, with nothing between you and it but a pillow and a couple pieces of plywood?  Yeah, I was awake.  But then he left and I slept until 10.  Right.  I haven't slept that late in years.  I showered and talked to the cats and dog for a while, and was thinking of heading back to bed, but instead decided to makes some tea and toast and update the ol' blog.

I don't think I've written much about the latter part of my 2012 CX season.  Don't know why, it was pretty rad.  My coach had me peak for the last couple New England UCI races and, lo and behold, I was pretty fast.  The last UCI race was in Warwick, and on Day 2 I had the best start of my life, was flying, up in the top 16 or so, and then I crashed, and crashed again, and sort of fell apart.  That was disappointing, because in some ways it was my last real chance of 2012 to prove something to myself.  If I'd held it together and kept upright I think I would have had a pretty great result to show for it.  As it was, I was really, really mad.  At myself, primarily, and I used that to help motivate for nationals.  I figured my next big chance to have a great result would be the masters 30-34 race in Madison.  I got back to the tough training after Warwick to start building back up.  

The next two weekends we had some regional races - Ice Weasels and Regional Championships.  Ice Weasels was OK (super fun in the mud!), but my bike sort of wasn't working and I didn't have anyone in the pit, and the training was starting to take its toll at Regionals, leaving me thinking fondly of how freaking awesome it is to be at peak fitness.  It also coincided with some cold snowy weather, Christmas happenings, and a two week period of time that Cody was away for work.  What do you think happened then?  Yeah, my motivation went from 11 to, oh, -2.  I was happy to be headed out on vacation for a couple weeks, thinking that it would help me recapture that fire to win.  

Cody and I flew to Reno on Christmas day to spend a week with my mom and reconnect with some friends we hadn't seen in a while.  While we were there it snowed a ton, making for some rad snow-cross-biking and a couple great opportunities to get up in the mountains.  I miss the mountains.  My motivation was still low, but I did my workouts (most of them).  I didn't want biking to interfere with spending time with the people I was there to see, or the non-bike things I wanted to do.  I wasn't particularly looking forward to Nationals at this point, merely accepting that I'd be heading out there whether I wanted to or not.  I know, that's terrible.  Don't worry, it got better.

Anyway, we went snowshoeing, sledding, watched football, and caught up with some great friends, and family.  Cody flew back to Boston on New Years Day, and I headed over the hill to Grass Valley, CA.  We had a nice visit with extended family, then headed down to Chico to visit with the other extended family.  I rode my bike through Bidwell Park in short sleeves.  We ate at the brewery.  Then I rode my very favorite Chico-area ride with my dad, starting in Oroville and riding up over Table Mountain.  It is so ridiculously pretty out there, and it was so nice to ride in above-freezing temperatures.  Also, my legs were feeling not to bad!  The motivation was starting to return.  

I spent the next week in California with my dad.  We spent one day XC skiiing above Truckee (for 4 hours - hmmm, good nationals prep?  We'll see!), then went DH skiing at Boreal.  Does it make me sound old to say I haven't downhill skiied in 23 years?  Yes?  Shit.  Well, the last time I was 7.  I've snowboarded lots since then, and I think that must help because it was pretty easy.  We took a lesson with a woman who was 75, and still a ski instructor.  I hope I'm still doing what I love when I'm 75.  There's not a lot more to ask of life than that.  

Anyway, my week in California was great.  We watched 2 seasons of Breaking Bad (I had dreams about disposing of bodies).  The week culminated in a great ride down around the Sutter Buttes, which wasn't exactly warm, but was extremely scenic.  My dad got up at a horrifyingly early hour to drop me at the airport in Sacramento.  Next up:  Nationals!

A Snowy CX Ride up Keystone Canyon in Reno

 Snowshoeing on Mount Rose with my mom and Cody - 8500' Elevation, that's gotta be good for my bike racing, right?

 A Lentil Burger and Old Chico Crystal Wheat at Sierra Nevada Brewery.  So good.

 Short-sleeves on a ride through Bidwell Park!

My mom adopted this dog, Murray.  He's a doll.

Fuel to the Fire

Wow, is it December?  Has it really been a month since I've updated the ol' blog?  Yes, and yes.  Wacky.  

It's been a really fantastic month, though.  All my races from the second half of the season, and in particular November, were getting progressively better.  Fitness, starts, smarts.  And also just a lot of fun, too, which is pretty important.  

I had a podium finish at Northeast Velo Cross, then a great ride to 4th place the next day at Shedd Park in Lowell.  Last weekend I had two very good rides at the final Verge series races in Sterling, and then on Saturday I had a great ride at NBX in Warwick.  Really, I've been feeling great about everything concerning cyclocross lately.  But I guess sometimes being happy doesn't drive you to be your best, sometimes angry can work a lot better.  Which is why I'm going to call my race yesterday, Sunday at NBX, one of the best things that can have happened to me.  Fuel to power me through the next month of training before nationals.  

I had a good start, awesome power, and was riding with a group of very strong, fast girls.  For a lap and a half.  Then I crashed.  I was going for it and overcooked a corner.  It wasn't bad, but I landed on my right knee and lost a little skin. Okay, that's OK.  Get up, get going.  I might have lost one place to that. Then I was rolling into the smaller of the two sand pits.  I got off my bike to run and got sort of stuck and fell onto my bike, hitting my right knee again.  That one actually hurt.  Okay, no problem, get up, get going.  I was caught by a couple people here, and went to go with them, and realized my right shoe had come loose.  When I'd fallen in the sand I'd hit the little quick-release button on the buckle and it loosened way off.  Rats.  If you've never tried it, I recommend against trying to buckle a shoe while pedaling.  It just makes you look like an idiot.  Anyway, I rode around with it loose for a lap and a half, which was super problematic in the long sand run, and finally stopped and tightened it.  Also I think I'd jammed some dirt in my shifter or something, so I made a couple trips through the pit.  We'd practiced our bike exchanges prior to the race, and we executed one really nice one and one that left a little something to be desired.  Anyway, I rolled through somewhere in the 20's and super, super pissed off about the whole thing.  It was the last UCI race of my season, and I was in a perfect position, with good legs, to prove to myself what I can do, and all I proved is that I can fall apart after a couple minor crashes.  Meh.  

But I'm going to let myself be angry, because it will motivate me for good races at nationals.  Ice Weasels is next weekend, but I don't want to be angry at Ice Weasels, I want to have fun and get in some fun times with my NECX crew.  

Anyway, unfortunate day 2 race aside, it was a truly fantastic weekend, following a stellar month, with my super teammates, and our super duper support crew and cheering squad.  Why does CX season have to go by so fast?!

A couple good ones...

Okay, everyone stop, something pretty amazing has happened.  I had Two Good Race Weekends . . . in a row.  That's right.  Two consecutive strong, positive weekends.  What the...?

The weekend before last I did a couple regional races - Canton Cup and Orchard Cross.  I podiumed at Canton with a 3rd place finish in a smaller field, and had a great race with some strong riders to finish 6th at Orchard.  Seriously, Orchard?  I had a great start (!!!) and hung with the super-strong leaders for a lap or so.  That is progress, right there.  

Then last weekend was the Cycle-Smart International in Northampton.  I just did one day there last year and I really liked the course.  It's a power course with roots.  I dunno, not super technical, but it works for me.  And some good fast turns.  I like fast turns.  Both days I started poorly.  More so on Saturday, but Sunday was no clinic on good starts, either.  Both days I worked my way up to my teammate Christina.  On Saturday we worked together, but probably didn't use our strength very efficiently because we ended up getting attacked and dropped by two girls that were sitting on while we were attacking from the front.  Rookie move.  But it's not very common in cyclocross to find yourself in a position where you can benefit from team tactics, and we clearly weren't thinking straight.  Ah well.  We resolved on Sunday to be smarter if we ended up together.  I had to do a lot more hard work to catch up to Christina on Sunday - I think she had a pretty good start - and by the time I got there I was sort of worked.  This time I was hoping to get to the front and block so she could attack, but I didn't have the legs to move up, and I eventually got dropped from her group.  I was able to hold off a group of 4-5 girls who'd caught up, though, so that was really cool.  Both days I had really strong final laps, which is also cool, and a good sign of fitness.  I keep thinking if I could just pull my head out of my ass at the starts my life would be so much easier.  

The quote of the weekend definitely comes from coach Larry, yelled at me while I was trying to recover from my poor start on Sunday.  "Stop being so nice to the other women!"  It was totally what I needed to hear.  One of the chase girls passed me at the run up and I totally chopped her in the next corner.  Nothing dangerous, but I stuck out my elbows and got mad and didn't give her any choice but to Get Out of My Way.  I'm going to write that on my stem: "Stop being so nice to the other women."  

In the end I finished 19th and 20th, respectively.  Two fairly solid races, I just need to improve by, oh, 10 places or so and I'll be rockin' in.  It was a fun weekend with teammates and Cody came along to cheer and be awesome.  

Yay, two good race weekend, moving up in the world!

And I made cyclingnews, and not just as a "Ladiesfirst rider," but as me.  

http://www.cyclingnews.com/races/nepcx-the-cycle-smart-international-2-2012/elite-women/photos/243482

Yay!