Cars Vs. Bikes

This morning's ride was a vivid reminder that when cars hit bikes, the cars never lose. S and I headed around 7am for what we thought would be an uneventful ride. The plan was to head out toward Hanscom together where I would take off to do some of my threshold work and meet up with her at Peet's for a post-ride coffee. It was a beautiful morning to ride - bright blue sky, little wind and about 65. Couldn't get much more perfect than that. After the downhill at Hanscom, I picked up the pace for my first 15 min segment. Turning off Virginia Road, I saw a few bikes down, an ambulance, Concord police and a few cars stopped in the middle of the road. As I passed closer to the ambulance, an older gentleman was down on the pavement, face full of blood and one mangled bike on the road. Could really tell what happened, and I didn't stop to ask as they were loading him onto a stretcher. Silently, I said a little prayer for the guy and reminded myself to ride like a Sicilian (don't trust anyone, watch my back and be super aware).

The 15 min segment takes me approximately to the National Park. S took the short cut through Concord Center so I was hoping I'd catch up with her soon. As I approached the 4-way stop at Barrett's Mill Road, I see S already there and talking to another cyclist. As I rode up, I noticed his bike. One leg of his carbon fork was broken off. He looked fine, though. No blood. Pointed out how his the seat tube was pretty busted and he described the accident. Luckily, he ended up on top of the car hood and at slow speed. He fared much better than this bike. As we were chatting, the other leg of his fork, made a sad creaking noise, broke off and the bike slowly crumpled on the sidewalk. Ow.

Ride safe out there.

Crashing in Vermont

Headed north yesterday to ride the Coyote Hill Classic in Vermont. Vermont is supposed to have some of the best mountain bike riding in the northeast. While I don't know if it's the best, this course was definitely the most technical I've ridden yet. And as the video shows, I even managed to endo while checking out the course during the pre-ride.

We arrived at the race two hours before the start. S had planned on riding the First-Timer division but hadn't yet registered. Headed over to registration for me to pick up my number and well, turns out, no First Timer division so they threw her in my race. Uh oh. The Luna Chick who had talked her into doing it had ridden the course on Saturday and later told us, if she had our phone number, she would have called to say, "Yeah...may not want to do this course as your first race." Hey...we're tough. Who cares?

I remembered to bring the helmet cam with me this time so I strapped it on my helmet, found out which way the course headed out, and S and I went out to do a pre-ride (you can view the video here). It started off in a grassy field (I HATE grass...even in cross....it just annoys the crap out of me), then into a short single track and back into a grassy UPHILL field (source of much grumpiness). Next, a short section on a dirt road (still uphill but what did I expect? This was Vermont!). Finally, a hard right turn into the woods on a very fun, fast, downhill, twisty single track. Loved that part. The course had a few steep downhill sections, more than a few stream crossings, lots of roots (my fave - NOT!), lots of twisties, ups, downs, 180s and just simply a total blast. Fortunately, it wasn't wet because that would have made the roots treacherous.

The course was supposed to be 6 miles long. About one mile into the course, I hit the first steep downhill marked with 3 red arrows. I'm not quite sure what happened because it wasn't that steep, didn't have wheel traps, loose rocks, etc but 3/4 of the way down, I totally planted the front wheel and catapulted over the handlebars. (That's the video at the beginning of this post.) A quick check and neither I nor my bike was broke although I was sure I'd be getting a few more bruises and a trickle of blood was running down my right leg from a cut on my knee. A quick look around and I was certain no one had witnessed the event. Whew!

After 2.25 miles, it was 45 min before the start and I couldn't decide whether to finish the loop or backtrack in order to make it back before the start. Chose to backtrack (bad choice - I was much closer to the finish than my computer told me) which meant climbing that sweet downhill section. Nothing like a good warm up.

Rolled up to the start with about 10 other women (including S who was being a great sport about the whole thing) and like my previous races, I was muddy and bloody. This is beginning to become quite the trend for me. I'm uncertain whether it's such a great habit. Goals for the race were as follows: 1) don't get hurt 2) get a great start 3) finish 4) keep the leader's jersey

The officials give last minute instructions, the whistle goes off and I punch it. I'm second into the first singletrack which is just fine with me since I'm planning on ripping everyone's legs off on the climb before the first turn. I know I'm in better shape aerobically than almost anyone in my division (it's my technical skills that suck) so I figured if I could blow them away on the hill and be first to the turn into the woods, I could recover on the downhill, twisty section. As soon as I hit the road (second one on there) I locked out the shocks and rode that bike like a it was a road bike, jamming up that hill and catching the one girl who was in front. Yeah! Hole shot into the woods and I never gave it up. Just totally enjoyed the ride, pushed hard the entire time, caught two guys (one riding a full rigid single-speed so he doesn't count ;-)

Best part - didn't crash once in the race. I think I'm actually starting to get this mtb thing. Finished first overall and first in my age group. Kept the leader's jersey and received a very cool Coyote Hill jersey as my prize (along with a gold medal). Took home a few bruises and scratches as well.

And, btw, S finished as well. Not too shabby for someone with what I believe is a broken wrist (from Wednesday night's ride) and a hurt ankle. Awesome. That was the real achievement of the weekend.

Death of A Blender

Oh, what a sad morning...my favorite blender died. This baby has been making smoothies almost every morning for the past 6.5 years. Today's breakfast started off like every other one. Threw in the OJ, banana and berries. Blended it up. The motor sounded a little off but it's been sounding a little odd for a few months now. Threw in some ice. Started blending. Ok...something is definitely not sounding right. But hey, seems to be working. I assume it's just getting closer to death's door but we're still good. Poured the smoothies, took a few sips, yum. Morning happiness.

Started doing the breakfast dishes and Whoa! One whole blade in the blender is gone! OMG! I think the blender self destructed and now not only do I have a radioactive chest but apparently after drinking that smoothie, I'm full of metallic bits. I am slowly achieving super hero status. ;-)

I think I'm to blame. I killed it. A few weeks ago, I stuck a spoon in while blending since some of the ice was jammed. CLANNNNNK! SPLATTER! Smoothie all over my face, my glasses, the cabinets, the ceiling, refrigerator, floor. I'm still finding specks of smoothie from that moment of stupidity. Two days later, I dropped the motor part on the floor. It started sounding like loose parts would be flying off any minute but somehow, it just kept on chugging along.

So, after approximately 2,300 smoothies and a few hundred frozen margaritas, it had enough. I gingerly placed it in the trash complete with all it's Chiquita Banana stickers. And as only a true smoothie addict would, I have a spare in the basement ready for tomorrow's smoothie.


First it was PBJs and now I'm blogging about smoothies. I think I'm losing it. ;-)

A Weekend of Watching....

I've been training like a crazy person the past few months and just completed four weekends straight of racing. Adding up the fact that I've been feeling kind of tired plus a lousy weekend forecast and the fact that I didn't visit Mom on Mother's Day, I chose to head to CT with Mother's Day presents instead of a bike. An added bonus was that my niece Michelle had a weekend long softball tournament close by. For the first time in recent memory, I got to be a spectator rather than a participant.

Let me just say that given the 50 degree weather, wind and drizzle, it was way harder being on the sidelines than playing. See the pictures of me and Sue for proof. The aluminum bleachers made our butts numb in 2/3rds of an inning. The drizzle besides being bone chilling made life dangerous as Sue would move the umbrella around coming close to poking my left eye out.

Michelle played two great games. It's such a strange feeling to see this 11 year old out there playing a game I love. Stranger yet, remembering 10 years ago when we'd sit on the floor and roll a ball back and forth to each other when she could barely sit up. She plays catcher as I did and she barely fits into the equipment. Worse yet, as one of the younger and lighter players, it was difficult for me to watch her get ready to block the plate as a girl twice her size was racing the throw home. (She did block it, she did hold on to the ball, but the throw was late. Bummer.)

Two last thoughts: 1) I REALLY wish we could be playing on the same team right now. I think it would be a total blast and I think we'd kick some serious butt.

2) I still haven't thawed out from those damn bleachers.

Nice People Rule!

Dreary, drizzle, 45 degree morning here in Boston. I have a bunch of weekend plans that don't include riding so I figured I'd get some miles in this morning. I've ridden in worse, no biggie, it'll be great once I'm out there....yada yada yada. Definitely a beanie and bootie kind of ride. While pumping up my rear tire, I noticed the valve acting a bit funky - leaking a bit of air when I screwed on the valve cap. Hmmm....weird...oh, well, let's leave the cap off. Seemed ok that way. Famous last words.

The weather deteriorated the further and further I rode from Lexington. By the time I hit the top of Strawberry Hill 15 miles into the ride, there was a steady drizzle coming down. Still....no worries...everything was fine. Jamming down the fun downhill section on Pope St. I start feeling something a little weird with the back wheel. Eh. Whatever. Another 1/2 mile and I look down at the wheel, and yeah, I had to admit it, it was flat. Pita!

I seem to be doing a lot of this lately so fortunately I'm setting new records at fixing a flat. That came in super handy this morning as my fingers were losing feeling when I took the gloves off. So I got it fixed and finished up a 30 mile ride

But the best part, in the brief time I changing out the tube, no less than four (4!) drivers stopped to help, offered me a ride and their sympathy! Nice people rule!

Hey! What Was That?!?!

It's always an adventure. Always.

Today, S and I were on the road bright and early at 6am. Typical pre-race morning - we threw the bikes on the car, grabbed giant to-go cups of coffee and settled in to watch the sun rise. Beautiful, crisp, clear morning and we had the road all to ourselves for the most part. Only other cars cruising out on the Mass Pike were wackos like us or those with a super long drive to visit mom. About 30 min into our drive, cruising in the middle lane around 80mph, I hear a THUMP that most definitely was NOT coming from the stereo. "Hey! What the f*&^&% was that?!?!" Instinctively, I check the rear view mirror and much to my shock and horror, I see one mtb wheel bounce off the hatch, hop a few times in middle lane, and just keep rolling down the pike. Eventually, it crosses to the high speed lane and flops down next to the jersey barrier. Immediately, we pulled over to breakdown turned and looked at each other, eyes WIDE, "What do we do?!?!?!" The other thoughts going through my mind were, "Whose wheel was it?!?!" quickly followed by, "If it's mine, will hers work on my bike?" While S called the Staties, I opened the sunroof and saw my wheel sitting there safe and sound. The trooper on the line said they'd send someone to help out and while we waited I watched the wheel in the rearview mirror, mentally steering approaching vehicles away from it. I was certain it was going to be smashed to bits, or worse yet, hurt someone. Within five minutes, a trooper arrived and after briefly chatting with us, flicked on his lights and siren, drove backward, crossed three lanes of traffic and retrieved the wheel. Inspecting it upon return, it looked practically perfect - just a tiny scratch on the skewer handle. Rather than throwing it back on the rack, we threw it in the backseat, safely on suicide watch (S was certain that the wheel threw itself off the car in despair since she wasn't planning on racing.)

The race got off to the same kind of start. Arrived early enough to pre-ride the course but should have asked which direction it went as I ended up missing the first part of the course. Then there was the fact that I found myself somewhere in the middle of the woods, no idea how close I was to the Start/Finish and less than 30 min to the start. Oh, yeah, and I took a swim in the mud pit as well during the pre-ride along with a few good falls. The overall result: I arrived at the start line slightly out of breath, muddy and bloody. I'm not sure if that intimidates the other riders or if they look at me, think "LOSER!" and decide to ride no where near me.

As we're waiting for the start, one of the riders mentions the first part of the course (missed in the pre-ride) and the wet roots (Hate roots. Just hate them!). Uh, oh. Quick shuffling of goals: #1) get the hole shot or close to it. REALLY didn't want to be in the back of the pack with tons of riders down in front. The red head who won the 19-34 division at Farmington was in the pack. I knew she was a good rider - fast and fluid over even the more technical stuff. Figured she'd go for the hole shot so I decided I'd jump on her wheel and hang there as long as possible.

Whistle goes off, she jumps out front, and as planned I'm right on her wheel, second into the woods. I keep telling myself to floor it over the roots, keep up my speed and momentum and DON'T THINK, let the bike find the line, don't force it. And it totally worked. Skimmed right over the dreaded roots and while I was dusted by the red head, I seemed to have put quite a serious distance between me and the rest of the pack.

I rode the rest of the race pretty much on my own. Early in the first lap I had one nasty fall, lost the chain and ended up getting passed by two women. Every time through the deep mud pit, I fell, one of the falls being a spectacular endo. My bike and I looked like we'd been dipped in chocolate. Delicious! Toward the end of the first lap, I was feeling pretty tired and actually began to doubt whether doing a second lap was wise.
Headed out on the 2nd lap. Ate my GU in the feed zone which was followed by a swoopy up and down, fast section of the course and I was totally revitalized. Rode the second lap better than the first (seems to be the norm with me.) With 10 minutes to go, I jammed my middle ring with a chunk of wood and the rear derailleur was so coated in muck it wasn't shifting too well either. Between that and the fact that my rear tire was flat (didn't notice until I returned to the car at the end), I felt pretty slow going into the finish.

I really enjoyed the course. Slightly less rocky than Glocester, more stream crossings, more mud and I really liked all the practice on the roots. I feel like I'm riding better and stronger.



Final result: 1st in Beginner Women 35+, 4th overall. Oh, yeah, and I captured the Series Leader Jersey!

Here Comes Summer!!!

70 degrees and sunny today in Bahstahn. 82 and sunny tomorrow. Wednesday's forecast - sunny and 81. Just renewed the sailing membership. Need I say more?

(New dilemma: how to race boats and bikes simultaneously. Someone, please, give me 36 hours in a day!)

Trading One Form of Torture For Another

This has been a very difficult week. First, my project at work is on the slippery slope to falling behind schedule - we have zombie bugs that won't die, a serial number fiasco and way more work to do than we'll ever fit into the time remaining before we ship. That's meant late nights and working weekends as we attempt to claw our way to an on-time release. On top of that, S has been traveling all week which leaves all the domestic duties to me. Usually, that's not enough to even make me blink but this week I've barely had enough time at home to buy groceries let alone finish the yard cleanup work that I had planned. I'm feeling pulled in way SO many different directions (does drawn and quartered seem a more appropriate term?) that my brain just won't shut off.

With all that going on, I was SO looking forward to today's race if only to push all that swirling brain stuff out and just focus on feeling my legs and lungs burn and keeping myself upright on the trails. Trade one from of torture for another. ;-)

The torture of the week was the Glocester Grind in Rhode Island. Lately, the weather has been pretty ideal New England spring happiness. Today, it more matched my mood: 40-ish, grey skies, passing showers, and a gusty wind. Blech. Arrived early enough to pre-ride half of the 5 mile course (we'd be doing two laps). WAY different than last week - a bunch of stream crossing, areas I started calling "Rock Gardens", lots of mud sections, and aluminum bridges that I was sure I was going to slide right off given the wet conditions and end up even more soaked laying in the streams underneath. Hmmmm....this should be interesting. Taped my GU to the stem (this will be an important detail later) and I was ready to roll.

Goals for this race: 1) Don't get hurt 2) Get a better start 3) Finish 4) Learn more about mtn biking.

There were 12 or so Beginner Women lined up at the start and again, we would roll about 1 min behind the 50+ men's division. I punched it at the the whistle and was third going into the woods. Probably could have been first or second but wasn't riding aggressively enough (put on list for next race's goals). Without going through a blow by blow account of the ride, let's just say I stopped counting how many times I fell on that first lap. Some of it was caused by other riders but more frequently is was me just slipping in mud, bouncing on rocks, sliding on wet roots. Almost endo'ed in one huge, water-filled hole that I believe was bottomless. And despite all that, it totally rocked! (no pun intended). With all that falling, I was still ahead of most women, and behind at least three. Started targeting them and picking them off.

Here's where an amusing (for others, perhaps) thing occurred. Sometime during that "Lap o'Crashes" I managed to fall on the top tube/stem (I think it was the Endo That Almost Was). Ouchie! For those of you reading closely, you may remember that that was where my GU was taped. So, yes, unbeknownst to me, the GU exploded all over my shorts and bike. It wasn't until I tried to figure out why my fingers where sticking to the bars like a gecko that I realized it. That was also the time I started getting hungry. Great...this race is going to be 1.5 hrs and I have no GU. Not happy. Thought goes through my mind, "Would it be bad if I stopped to lick the GU off my bike?"

By the end of the first lap, I was the 2nd woman, making progress against the leader but could never quite get there. I was starting to pick up some of the men (7 total by the end). It became a game of "Pick a jersey and catch 'em". Around the end of the first lap, I passed one of the men and while I was quicker than him on the dirt, he was better technically. I yielded the trail to him and then followed his wheel. Wow! Best way to learn. He encouraged me through some of the gnarlier sections and somehow things just clicked. Got more relaxed, more confident and it showed on the second lap where didn't crash at all. Nice!

Finished the race, changed and then checked the results. 1st Place, Baby! (ok, in my age group but 2nd woman overall) Yeah! Sweet! Happy Dance!

I think I managed to accomplish all my goals but that depends on your definition of hurt. Mine, BTW, is "season impacting injury" so the gash below doesn't count but it makes me feel like a real mountain biker!

Will Ride Hills For Coffee....

This morning's scheduled workout was for hill repeats. I'm not sure exactly why but I LOVE hills. There's something about getting into a groove, grinding it out, powering up, dancing on the pedals and just rising above everything and getting the view. In my case, the view is of downtown Boston from Arlington after climbing Eastern Ave. There's an elementary school on that street so on my way up and down today, the crossing guard was my personal cheering section offering all kinds of encouragement, some of it making me laugh which isn't easy when you're in the middle of coughing up a lung.

You're going up again?!?!
You're slower this time! Pick it up!
The kindergarteners can beat you to the water tower!
Mmmmm....no thanks, I'd rather watch you and drink my coffee. (when asked if she'd like to join in the fun)

But best of all, my friends Richard and Sally live at the top of the hill with Grady the Sheltie and since it was trash day on his street, I ran into him as he was hauling out his recycling. He's promised to leave a steaming mug of coffee on top of the hill next week. Now, if I can just convince him to leave a chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles alongside....I'll be just a blur to that crossing guard. ;-)

A Bunch of Firsts

Early last week, one of my teammates brought a mountain bike race, The Root 66 Series Fat Tire Classic, to my attention. I had mentioned to my team earlier that I wanted to do more racing on trails than roads this year. She remembered my comment and given that this race was supposed to be a good one for newbies, I decided to go.

My race was at 9am and about a 1.5 hr drive from home so I was on the road pretty early. Nice to have the Pike to myself and other like minded individuals - saw a lot of road bikes headed to the Palmer race, a few mountain bikes, and a bunch of white water kayaks (wonder what kayak event was going on...). The sun broke out by the time I hit I-84 with lots of fog hanging out low in valleys of CT hill country.

Usually when I arrive at a bike race (road race/crit but not cross) I feel sick to my stomach, a little shakey, a lot nervous. I pulled into the parking lot and despite it being my first mtb race ever, I felt fine - lots of exciting energy but no feeling of needing to puke in the parking lot (that would come later.) My goals for the race were 1) not get hurt 2) be a sponge and learn as much as possible from where does my number go (on my bike not me), what's a mtb race start like (just like cross) to what does a mtb course look like (probably not very much like we rode today). I started my sponge-like behavior as soon as I parked the car. Two friendly guys were parked next to me so I started picking their brain - had they done the course before? Did it rain much last night down there? How often to you check the pressure on your shocks? All this mtb mechanical stuff is so new to me.

I headed over to registration to pick up my number. Apparently, they gave my number to someone else(!!) I wasn't happy. Didn't want some random to be riding as me. To try to make me feel better, they gave me a "good" number, 1000, which I suppose has a nice, cosmic ring to it but when the dudes in the parking lot saw it they commented, "Wow! You must really be old!" Nice. Gotta love it. I'm going to rip your &^%$$ legs off.

Tried to figure out how to put the number on the bike. I'm more accustomed to struggling to pin the damn thing on my jersey so this was a lot easier. Throw that in the plus column for mtb races. I still had about 40 min before my race so I decided I'd ride as much as the course as possible to get a preview. Slight uphill start from a wide field to a fire road. Then, down a fairly steep hill with a bunch of roots at the top and hard left turn on the bottom. I thought this might be the first place the pack would break up. Next, was the first section of single track, twisting and turning around trees and coming up to "THE LOG". I rode up to it. Uh. Wondered if I could ride it. Decided, no time like the present to practice so backed up, headed toward THE LOG and....stopped right before it. Why break a collarbone in practice? Just then I saw a group of two guys ride up. Decided I'd just watch and sure enough then just popped the front wheel up and rode right over. I hung out and watched a bunch of others and they did the same thing. Next, two girls rode up and did exactly as I did. We were all a bunch of wussy girls. ;-) In retrospect, it didn't matter in the race but it's clear I need to build my mtb skills. All told, the course was two laps of a 5 mile course. A lot of fire roads with 4-5 twisty, single track sections mixed in, a few short hills, a couple of logs to ride over and nothing seriously technical.

Back at the start, I gathered with a bunch of other beginner riders. They sent the guys off first, different age groups divided by a minute. The women, about 20 of us, would all start together. When the whistle went off, I was psyched instead of nervous. The strategy would be to go for the hole shot but I tried to remind myself I was there to learn and I wasn't going to learn anything at the front (probably not the brightest idea). I was probably 6 or so riders back as we left the fire road for the first big downhill. Heart's pounding, legs pumping and all I hear is lots of shifting and none of that squealing, braking noise that I typically hear in cross races thanks to disc brakes. That led into the first section of single track where a rider went down in front of me on a wet root. Crap. Crap. Crap. No room to get around her. Losing time on the leaders...CRAP! Same rider went down on THE LOG. After finally getting around her at that log, picked up the pace and tried to catch the leaders. Never managed to catch them but did pick off three or so women and A LOT (about 10? Lost count) men in the 50+ group that started a minute before us.

I put my head down and rode like I meant it. My HR was pegged above 90% the whole time. I rode every single hill, passing the walking dudes, nailed all the tight twisty turns, accelerated out of each one of them and basically just loved the whole damn thing. Rocket still doesn't have a computer on it so I had no idea of the distance on my first lap but knew that last year's finishers had a time around 1 hour 10 min. Imagine my surprise around 25 min when I saw I was rolling around back to the start! SWEET! Faster than I expected! And now that I knew the entire course, felt like I could push it even more. 3/4 of the way through the second lap, my legs were really burning and I started the "Wheezing Breathing" that I usually only hear during cross season. And then, a small taste of - how to put this delicately - vomit. Please, please, please, DO NOT MAKE ME STOP TO PUKE!!!!! Pushed the thought aside, replaced it with "DO NOT LET ANYONE CATCH YOU! 60 MORE SECONDS! JET!"

Done. Finished. First mountain bike race complete. Check it off the list. I loved it. That was fun. Gotta do it again. Back to the car to change and decided to checked the results before leaving. I was shocked to find myself 2nd. Nice thing about mtb races - they do age group awards! Got a silver medal and some bike tools. :)


The List of Firsts:

1. First mountain bike race
2. Rocket's first race
3. First time on the podium for cycling (2nd place, baby!)
4. First time I received a medal for cycling (silver)
5. First time I received prizes for cycling (bike tools)
   

A Long Time Ago On A Field Far, Far, Away

A couple of months ago, I received a flyer in the mail asking me to come back to Brown for 2007 Softball Alumnae Day. I probably get one of those every year along with invitations to golf outings, football tailgates, Homecoming, etc. The small print on this one caught my eye and shocked my brain.

If your eyes are getting old like mine and you're having trouble with the fine print, it says, "Come back to College Hill and celebrate the 25th anniversary of Brown Softball's first Ivy Championship" OMG! 25 YEARS! How is that possible?!?!? I did some quick math...how old am i now....less 25....geez! I was 19! Was I ever really 19?

Funny how something that happened 25 years ago can seem like yesterday. The tournament that year was on the fields outside Hahvahd Stadium (a few miles from where I sit right now. Never would have expected that 25 years ago!) That season, I learned how to contribute to a team without setting foot on the field - I had ripped my knee apart in a preseason game against URI and spent the season in a cast from my toes to my upper thigh.

Before that fateful pre-season game, we spent the night at one of my teammate's family vacation home on Narragansett Bay. I don't remember exactly how many beers I had that evening but I know that if I drank that many now, it would most likely kill me. Worse yet, on our way back to school and the game, we stopped at McDonalds. They were running a promotion where you got a scratch ticket so along with my burger, fries and coke, I won yet another batch of artery-clogging fries. Got another scratch ticket with those fries and won more food and so on and so on and so on. So, weighted like a tank out there at 2nd base, definitely not too quick on my feet I couldn't dodge the high slide that took me and my leg to the hospital. Most embarrassing part - admitting to the anesthesiologist how much I had eaten in the past 12 hours. 14 beers....1 quarter pounder....2 burgers....4 fries....kill me now.... The surgeon actually questioned whether or not he should operate. But I digress.

I was on crutches the entire season and wasn't quite sure what to do with myself . Studying more would have been the most beneficial choice but yeah, well, why study when I could go hang out with my my buddies. And so I did. Even though at first it killed me to be at practice, I went. I really couldn't even be helpful and chase down stray balls. I think toward the end I was able to hit grounders to my fellow infielders but really, I just hung out out on the bench, felt sorry for myself, and felt like a poser.

A baby-faced freshman took my position at second. And damn, if that wasn't the most amazing thing to watch. Michelle (a.k.a Dr. Dodge) was a slightly shy, kind of quiet braniac who was in Brown's accelerated med school program. We teased her mercilessly (still do, actually). And she kept coming back for more. And then at the Ivy Tournament - she actually made us shut up (not an easy thing to do with our group). Her stats:

• 2 Hits 3 RBIS against Hahvahd
• RBI insurance run against our dreaded nemesis, Princeton
• 2 for 3 and 4 RBIs against Yale
• 4 RBIs (with a 3 run double) against Dartmouth
• 3 hits against Cornell

The girl rocked! Solid on D as well. Smokin!


But best of all, throughout that entire season, when we were up at bat, she sat by my side on the bench, talked about what was going on out on the field and almost made me feel like it was my cleats that were getting dirty out there, not hers. I owe her big time for that. I didn't realize it until today. And wished I would have thought to thank her at the reunion.

It was absolutely a blast seeing everyone today. Those who didn't make it were missed and couldn't defend themselves as we told embarrassing stories. Amazing how little we've all changed, and all fell back into old jokes and roles. Celebrating that season made me remember that we were a pretty special group and I'm really glad I got to be a part of it - even if it was from the bench that one season.

Keeping It Fun

I came across this video (kudos to these guys for having some fun out there) yesterday while doing some research for work (honest! I was!) It instantly reminded me of about 35 years ago when I would take my Schwinn Sting-Ray into the woods behind our house in CT with the other kids in my neighborhood. Now, I know they say mountain biking originated in Marin but heck, we didn't need no stinkin' fancy rides - we had our Huffy's and department store specials. My Sting-Ray was probably the nicest bike on the block.

Anyway, it became a Neighborhood Badge of Honor to be able to ride the trail from the "Big Kids" tree house on the top of the hill, down the hill, through the swampy fern section and over the last fallen tree at the end by the "Little Kids" (us) fort without touching down. Getting over the tree didn't scare me as much as going down the hill - a lot of speed was necessary to get through the swampy fern section without tipping over and suffering the "Wrath of Mom" for returning home covered in and reeking of swamp muck.

I think I spent an entire month one summer just doing that trail over and over and over and over.... I never got bored but how could I? One day Jimmy H. took a nasty fall, knocked out his tooth and blood was everywhere. Bobby B. ended up falling in leaves, getting a tick on the top of his head and needing to get part of his head shaved to have it removed. In retrospect, they probably should have given him a total buzz cut but instead he had a bald spot right smack in the middle. Much ridicule ensued until it grew back. Once we all successfully mastered the trail, we started hauling more obstacles out there, large branches, pieces of plywood, and flattened metal garbage cans which added sound effects to our ride. Bike heaven!

So I was remembering all that this morning as I headed out on my bike. The workout of the day was meticulously written out in block print and taped to my stem next to my HRM:

10 EASY (61-72%)
10 LIGHT (73-80%)
SMALL RING SPRINT
53 x 15 SPRINT
2 FREE FORM SPRINTS
5 x 1 min @100
62 min total

Now, while that may be fun for some, it isn't particularly for me. And while it was a great workout and I'm glad I did it, it didn't have me doing a happy dance when it was finished. I definitely need to figure out how to mix more fun in there and keep reminding myself that those kind of workouts may not make for a fun morning but will certainly make races more FUN as I RIP legs off the other racers. ;-)

That Was Fun! Let's Do It Again!

Friday morning was a gorgeous, sunny but chilly morning and I was scheduled to do a ride with the boys from work. Normally, this doesn't worry me but given it was the day before a race, hammering with them would not be a "good thing". So I stated my case as soon as we were all gathered, "Need to be back by 9am. Need to keep it easy." And they actually obliged! (Since they were being so accommodating, I should have probably asked them to keep the snot rockets to a minimum. Next time.) It ended up being a great ride. I pretty much hung on the back, loosened up my legs, took a few pulls and the Columbian forced me to sprint one of the hills (standing - I was reprimanded when I attempted to sit 7/8ths of the way up!). Perfect way to start a Friday and a nice 22 mile warm up for Turtle Pond.

Race morning was even nicer than Friday. My race was scheduled for 1:30pm with temps forecasted in upper 60's. OMG! We're talking shorts, short sleeves and NO F*&^% BOOTIES! I even had to put on sunscreen. It's finally spring here in the northeast, folks!

The course was an 11.4 mile loop that my division would do three times. As the elevation chart shows it was pretty rolling with one major hill (1.5 km long). All day Friday and Friday night, I was a total headcase. Would I get dropped right at the gun? Would I suffer alone for 35 miles? Would I finish? The latter was all I really had control over so that became my overall goal: 1) Don't Get Hurt 2) Finish 3) Stretch Goal: stay with main pack for 1 lap.

We had 5 members of my team in the race - we're all at different levels in our training right now so it didn't really make sense to put together a team strategy. We all lined up at the start, wished eachother good luck and then the gun went off.Somehow, I found myself leading the pack out(!!!!) How did this happen?!? S told me I should stay toward the front (BUT NOT AT THE FRONT) and try my best not to get dropped on that first hill - that was the key - even if it meant coughing up a lung. There was a small downhill before the killer hill started. I pedaled easy, tried not to panic, watched to see if anyone would pick up the pace. Nooooo...no one did. As we hit the hill, I shifted to the little ring and &^%$#@$%^ dropped the stupid chain!!!! How is this possible? Now, that's not the end of the world but it was enough distraction that it totally threw me off my plan and pace. I did manage to pedal it back on but in the interim, I was swallowed up by the pack like the borg and then spit out toward the back. Yuk.

As we reached the top of the hill, I watched the main pack put the hammer down and accelerate off. I found myself in the chase pack of about 12 riders and here's where it got entertaining. There were 3-4 riders up front taking pulls. After each pull, the rider would drop back into the paceline 3-4 riders back instead of heading further back. I sure as hell wasn't going to work my way past all the other riders between me and them so I just hung back. After 5-6 miles of this, those riders were starting to get a little annoyed and there were some words being thrown around about being not taking a pull. I sat back, enjoyed the show, appreciated the distraction, and zipped along effortlessly at 26 mph. :-) Finally, those up front got the hint, dropped a little further back and others stepped up to take their turn leading the group.

Finally, it got to be my turn. I still have this nasty habit of having an adrenline kick when I'm leading the paceline. I'm in the front and thinking, "I gotta ride well! I don't want them to think I'm lame! I don't want the pack to swallow me up!" I put my head down and ride. Periodically, I check over my shoulder and see a rider behind me. I pull for 5 minutes, then slightly tired, I motion for the woman behind me to take her turn and I move over to the left. I check behind to see how many riders I have to wait for before I get back in the line and ....there's NO ONE THERE! OMG! What did I do? I tell the woman in front of me that somehow (gee, I wonder how) we manage to drop the rest of the pack. Uh oh.

We continue on and one rider catches us. For the rest of the race, that's how it stayed. The three of us taking 5 min pulls and resting for 10. As the three of us headed up Oak Hill for the second lap, it dawned on us all that even though there were three laps, we'd be doing Oak Hill FOUR times. The course started before the hill and the finish was at the top. It was interesting to see all three of us come to that same realization almost simultaneously as we tried our best to conquer gravity. (S and PFFC who came to cheer said they didn't even like walking that hill let alone ride it)

The two women I rode with totally rocked! We worked well together and we all finished the race strong. Still haven't seen the official results but I judge we were about midway in the field. Super cool!

Winner - Best Story Told At Race: For some strange reason, there was a port-o-john set up almost precisely at the finish line. A little girl goes into use it, her dad standing outside, just as one of the packs was coming to the finish. "Dad! Dad! Can you hold open the door while I go so I can watch the riders cross the line?!?!?! Please!?!?!?" (Dad said no.) Totally cracked me up.

Attitude

This morning during Abusive Spin Class (yes, it was still raining this morning) I was thinking about this upcoming cycling season and realized that while I'm making progress physically, my head is SO not in the game. An email circulating among my teammates kicked it off two days ago, "Who's racing Turtle Pond this weekend?!?!?" they asked. Ooooh...heart rate starts to pick up, breathing gets shallow, and the following dialog goes on in my head:

"Oh, geeze, I'm so not ready to race.
But I could do it as good training ride.
Yeah, but then I'll get spit out the back and ride 35 miles solo. Ick.
But there are masters points up for grabs! How many 45 year olds will be out there?
Just do it.
Wah!"

Another example: S was racing the state road racing championship years ago. Before the start of the race, Pro-Joe-Rider-Girl rolls up along side her at the start and says, You're going to lose! You didn't do the White Mountain Series.

S stared her down, didn't say anything but thought, "I will DIE before I let you cross the finish before me."

And sure enough, she took first place about a quarter of wheel ahead of Pro-Joe-Rider-Girl.

Now, putting myself in that scenario, had someone said that to me at the start, I would have been thinking:

"What's the White Mountain Series?
Is it tougher than the hills I've been riding in NH?
VT is prettier - I should have raced there instead of NH.
Damn! I should have done the NH series AND the White Mountain Series!
Wait! The White Mountains are in NH! Did she mean the Green Mountains!
I'm so confused...."

And while all the conversation is going on in my head, the starter's gun would have gone off and I'd be left at the start still trying to clip in while the pack is finishing the first turn.

Now, the inexplicable part is that I'm not like that in any other sport. Moments before a running race, I think, "I will pound you into the ground! You will be toast if you try to keep pace with me! I WANT that damn prize (pair of random running socks) for a top three finish." When I played basketball, despite being the shortest out there, I'd look at the 6 foot center and think, "I will juke you out of those ugly ass size 13 shoes and have a clear drive to the hoop!" More times than not, I did. And sure, sometimes the ball got REJECTED back into my face but I'd keep coming at them. As a catcher on the diamond, I'd glower at any base runner and send mental vibes saying, "You steal on me, you will die on the base path! Make my day! Go!"

I need cycling swagger. I need attitude. I need to believe. So I've been working on a short, focused line I can keep rolling around in my head that will keep all that stupid, random, distracting chatter out . I've settled on,

"I will RIP your legs off!"

I'll let you know if it works at Turtle Pond.

Ode to My Sandwich

Haiku of The Day
Golden whole wheat bread
P. B. and jelly oozing
I love my sandwhich

PBJs are a staple of my diet - I eat 1/2 for lunch almost every day. I eat them before races, during rides, sometimes just because... I believe I also set the record during one PMC for PBJs consumed during a 48 hour period (about 16). And oddly enough, I never ate a PBJ until I was 38 years old. I know....slow starter.

Others have discovered my addiction to these delicious little wonders. TCB once gave me a PBJ magnet (proudly in use in my office). S gave me a Life Is Good PBJ t-shirt (should have worn it today). And just recently, S passed along a song that totally cracks me up and makes my day. Follow the link from the cartoon below to check it out!

I'm Annoyed

I really want to wear my new Shoes of Summer. I really, really, really do. I even have the pedicure to match. And despite the fact that it's f*&^%$ almost May, our weather looks like this:


This is making it incredibly difficult to stick with THE PLAN. Tomorrow I'll either go ride in the snow or take out my frustration on the new spin bikes at BSC. Speaking of BSC, one of the things I love about working out there is all the windows and light. One end of the gym is three stories of all glass. As I walked over to that side of the gym, I happened to look outside and there's a major snow squall happening. Tons of tiny flakes, blowing every which way and heaven help me, actually coating the ground. "Nooooooooooooooo!" I didn't realize I actually said that out loud until the guy doing crunches near me stopped, shook his head and muttered, "Just don't look. It's easier that way."

Sea Otter Classic

The Short Version: two new jerseys, two baseball caps, one pair of fun sunglasses, one t-shirt, one hot pair of mtb shorts, one super cute sweatshirt, two massive bruises, one duffle bag of very dirty, wet cycling clothing, one skinned knee, one pair of lost tights, one extremely fun weekend.




The Long Version:
One of the great perks of my job is the fact that I get to escape Boston every 5-6 weeks. The forecast for Boston was looking pretty gloomy - high 30s, drizzle, rain. But I didn’t care - I was headed west for the week. Mostly for work but with a side trip to Monterey for the Sea Otter. Monday’s weather in Boston was nice enough for a 25 mile ride including sprints despite a wind gusting to 30mph. Caught the JetBlue nonstop to SJ and stepped off the plane into a CA sunset that was as warm as it was pretty.

I tried to time my training so that the trip coincided with a recovery week. I still felt a bit nuts not being able to ride. I did manage one spin class with the TCB along with a totally awful run on the treadmill. For some reason, I had an incredibly difficult time adjusting to west coast time and even my weight workouts lacked energy.

Friday morning, I jumped in my rented Chevy Trailblazer and headed south on 101 to Monterey airport where I picked up S. From there we headed into Monterey to pick up our rental bikes (full suspension Diamondbacks from Joselyn's Bicycles - decent stuff. Check them out if you ever want to ride in the area and don’t want to deal with shipping/flying your bike.) < rant > I used to fly my bike or ship it to CA at least a couple of times a year and was planning on doing so for this trip until I discovered how much prices had gone up. In June of ’05 it cost around $100 each way to ship my bike Fedex 3-day air coast to coast with insurance. The quote for this trip was $260 each way. That was more than the flight to transport me! Gas prices suck. I didn’t even check on the cost for checking the bike on JetBlue - it used to be $75. But dealing with a bike as checked luggage is a total PITA in this security paranoid time. I still don’t understand why skis/snowboards/golf bags all fly free and bikes don’t. When my bike is packed in its hardcase, it’s way smaller than my dead-body snowboard bag that carries two boards, two pairs of boots and enough clothing and gear to outfit the entire Olympic winter team < /rant >

So, a full suspension mountain bike cost me $100 for the day. Obviously not cost effective if you’re using it for a week but good enough for what I wanted - one day of trails at Sea Otter.

After picking up the bikes we headed up to Laguna Seca. As we reached the entrance I think both of our jaws just dropped. The entire area inside the race track was full of booths from every vendor related in any possible way to cycling.
Bikes, components, clothing, beer... My mind now filled with ideas of how to fit all the schwag I was going to pick up in my suitcase on the way back. Tons of people on bikes, campers, RVs, and a hillside that reminded me a little bit of the Sound of Music where Julie Andrew’s is spinning around singing. Except this hillside was covered with cars with bike racks. This was going to be fun!

It seemed that we had arrived as the day was in full swing so our assigned parking was a fair distance away from the expo. We threw on our cycling shoes, helmets, backpacks - grabbed the rental bikes and rode into the party. The first booth that caught our attention was Vanderkitten. And of course, we just had to buy a couple of totally cute jerseys. We checked out booth after booth until our eyes were starting to glaze over. I never thought it would be possible but apparently even I have a some sort of threshold for bicycling related things. The fact that we had skipped lunch in our excitement to get there probably didn’t help either.

The next day, we met TCB and ETM at the Starbucks on Highway 218 before heading out to Sea Otter. The forecast was for 55-60, cloudy skies and a 60% chance of showers. Given my experience with CA and rain, I figured if it did anything, it would spit on us for 5 minutes - long enough to treat us to a killer rainbow after it blew through. The start for our ride wasn’t the best organized. First, there was the conflicting times - did it start at 9 or 9:30am? Then no one seemed to really know just where the start was. After scurrying around a bit we finally figured it out and headed off. Things didn’t kick off well. S’s bike was shifting on its own, she was getting frustrated and was threatening to bail 1/2 mile in. I managed to adjust the derailleur a bit, the sun started peeking through and things started looking up (including the trail).


The trails in CA are SO different from the east coast. No loose boulders, no evil tree roots. For the most part, the biggest obstacles were the gullies in the trails along with some serious sand. I thoroughly enjoyed the downhill single track in the first half. A total blast. Even the downhill in the sandy trails was fun. Riding cross all fall definitely paid off. I did manage two falls. Neither nasty but ended up with two huge bruises. One of which is making my flight home a tad uncomfortable.


About 7 miles into the ride, it started spitting on us. And given we were in the middle of a long climb, it actually felt good. Then it started raining harder. And harder. And harder. About that time, we reached the top of the climb and were riding on top of an exposed ridge. Rain blowing sideways, winds around 30 mph and it was hitting my face so hard I could have sworn it was hail. Still not sure about that. Took shelter under some little tree to put on my helmet beanie (such a prepared east coaster!), jacket and leg warmers on. I felt warmer but still not super comfortable. Each pedal stroke squished a flood of water out of my shoe. The bike was getting blown sideways and forward motion was triplely hard due to the headwind, the climb and now muddy trails. When I asked TCB if she was ok, she surprisingly said, “No.” Her quads were shaking (note to self: remind her to eat more). ETM was trying to be a tough guy but even he was swearing like a sailor with each huge gust of wind driven rain. We weren’t quite sure how much further we had to go. The volunteers didn’t know either. And now, pick-up trucks were out on the trail sagging riders. Every time we’d get to the top of a hill hoping to see the race track and expo, we were presented with yet another hill. Finally, the trailed turned down, came around a corner and we saw some campers. I don’t think S and I have ever been so happy to see campers.


Felt great to get out of those soaked clothes. Felt even better to enjoy a beer in downtown Monterey afterward. I only wish the sun had come out so we could have enjoyed the after ride BBQ, beer and expo. And of course, today’s forecast was for 75 and sun. I’m definitely not having any weather luck.

Bunny Hopping On Easter

We headed down to CT for some family Easter fun this past weekend. Given that all the snow has finally melted and the trails have dried out, we thought we'd take the mountain bikes with us. My parent's live very close to the town forest. I really never spent much time there while growing up but last fall when I was home, I needed to do a long run in preparation for the Monterey Half. I was pretty bored with the usual routes I do there so I headed off in a different direction. Good news: I discovered how nice the trails were to run on in the town forest. Bad news: got lost, and after I figured out where I was after 10 miles (and knew it was another 2-3miles home) I called Dad to come fetch me. Aren't Dads great?


Anyway, this was the inaugural ride of S's new Santa Cruz Superlight. We spent an half hour on Saturday setting up both shocks then off to the trails (this time with a map). Ended up riding a couple of hours both days. Totally fun. Weather still wasn't the greatest - sunny but a bit chilly and even some snow flurries on Easter morning.

BTW - loved my new Thule wheel carriers that Santa brought. Finally put them on the car for the road trip and they were super.

Next week - off to the west coast for work but throwing in a side trip to the Sea Otter Classic. Doing the mtb tour - low key, no racing, just out there to have fun. Renting a bike - hope I'm not sorry about that but it was just too expensive and too much hassle to take my own.

A New Year, New Season, New Goals

So my blog ended up being pretty lame during CX season. Maybe that's a good thing - I was too busy riding to be typing. To sum it up, the season was fun, Nationals was a blast and it left me aiming a little higher for the next season.

Last year, the NEBC women had a really comprehensive, great training program that I totally ignored. Why? Well, I was running, sailing boarding and generally doing a little bit of everything. I'm still somewhat perplexed by the fact that I can do some haphazard training for running and still win my age group. But cycling is a totally different animal. If you want to ride well, you have to ride a lot. Every time I complained, "I'm SOOOO slow! How do those girls beat me!" to anyone who knows anything about cycling (S, PFFC, The Columbian) all I heard back is , "They actually ride all the time."

And so, as hard as it is for me to do, I'm going to try to take my ADD training and actually focus on riding. Wah! I'm going to miss running.

So here are my refrigerator goals (yes, they are posted there):

1. Stick with THE PLAN!
2. Race 5 crits
3. Race 3 MTB races
4. Race 2 road races
5. Race the CBTT at least 10 times and improve my time 10% over the season
6. Race every cross weekend
7. Top 10 place in KC

So, I've spent the winter doing base miles on a spin bike. Lovely. It's April now and my view outside is all white - yes, another winter storm even though it's spring. THE PLAN says I'm supposed to do 118 minutes today. The roads were too icy so I went to Abusive Spin Class, (brand new spin bikes - Star Trac NXT - nice!) started class early, did class, stayed late and ended up with 113 minutes. Not bad. I actually can't believe I managed to stay on the bike that long inside.


As an aside, picked up the Merlin yesterday with its new cables, drivetrain (new Campy Chorus carbon compact cranks!). It's looking sweet! Unfortunately, given the snow and next week's travel to CA, I probably won't get to ride it until mid-April. Maybe by then I can even ride without booties.