Some Hard Lessons

Wild lupine at the top of the TT course

The view from the top of the first climb (about 2 miles long) of the TT course.

I've been delaying writing a blog about my experience at the Mount Hood Cycling Classic last week. Delaying it because I knew it would be a longer blog, because I knew it would be a little difficult to write, and because I didn't want to sit on my pity-pot any longer.

After a full week, however, I think I've found closure with my experience - enough to take a step back and tell you all how it went.

For those of you who don't know, MHCC is a 6-day stage race in Portland and Mt Hood, OR. For the women, this year's race was UCI, meaning that it attracted the top international and national women's teams, all vying to earn UCI points that could move women from the "long list" for the Olympics to the "short list." Meaning that there were legends in the peloton (Jeannie Longo. Mara Abbott. Leah Goldstein. Tina Pic.). Meaning that the top women's teams were here in full force. Meaning that these women were in top form, some coming off months of training and racing in Europe to come over here to kick some serious ass. Meaning that I jumped in with both feet...

First, let's start at the very beginning. You all know from a previous blog that I became sick with a very bad cold. The illness settled in my sinuses, and the fabled Z-pack didn't seem to touch it. A week before the race, I called a friend who is a doctor, and asked her advice. I figured that after the 5-day Zithromax that I would've been feeling tons better. But instead, every upper tooth in my mouth felt like it had a cavity, and I couldn't bend over, ride over a bump, run, jump, etc without excruciating pain. "That's classic sinus infection," she said. After some nasty Kleenexes full of thick mucus and blood, I understood. She suggested I get on some bigger antibiotics, and called in a prescription for some Cipro. It was a 10-day course. Which meant that I would be taking the antibiotics during MHCC.

I called Kendra everyday that week, letting her know how I felt, and having her prescribe the day's workout based on my illness. I had taken the previous week completely off the bike, and was easing back into it. She wanted me to get some harder efforts under me before Tuesday's Prologue. Usually she doesn't have riders try that until after they're off the antibiotics, "They just make you sluggish," she explained. But we both knew that wasn't really an option given the 10-day prescription. So, I did my moderate intervals, felt what I would call "okay," with adequate power output, and decided to still go to Hood.

I had asked her that week, though, about when I would know to pull the plug. I could tell that I wasn't going to be 100% recovered. I hadn't originally planned on doing this race when I had laid out my season, but when Bob's asked me to be on the team, Jeanne really talked me into it, despite my concerns that this is a big climber's race, and I'm NO climber (too much junk in the trunk to compete with the REAL climbers!). "You'll be fine," Jeanne insisted. Little did we both know how different this year's field would be compared to her point of reference from years past... I asked Kendra how I would know if going through with Hood could damage my season's goals. I was concerned about going into it not recovered enough to sustain the damage, and worried that I could potentially dig myself into a hole and ruin months of hard work. "You just have to take one stage at a time," she said. She said the risk would come if I slugged it out when I was too sick to go on. I put it in the back of my mind and told myself it wouldn't come to that.

My teammate Allison and I were scheduled to drive down to Portland on Monday, spend the night, relax the next morning, then meet the team early afternoon before the Prologue. Sunday night I was awoken around midnight when Ryan came into our room wheezing, "Mom, I can't fall asleep... I can't breathe." Crap!! The kid sounded like he had whooping cough, but I knew from personal experience that it was croup. I had him lie down with us in bed, trying to get him to relax. But then I couldn't sleep - I was panicked thinking I would/should (?) take him to the ER for a breathing treatment. I kept listening to be sure he was still breathing. All told, I think I got around 3 hours of sleep that night. I called in sick to work at 3:45 AM, knowing I wouldn't make it in, since I didn't want Mike to have to take him to the shop. We had no options for a babysitter, and I didn't want him staying home alone. Mike was able to come be with him that afternoon so that I could meet Allison a little earlier to start our drive.

We arrived in Portland and found our hotel without a hitch, thanks to Allison's trick GPS gadget that navigated for us the entire week. The next morning, however, we weren't able to sleep in like we both so desperately wanted. We had to head to the airport to pick up a teammate. I hadn't planned on it when I'd packed up the car, and cramming Jenn's huge bag (AKA "the beast") in the backseat, along with her and about 6 wheels in bags was quite the sight! Luckily it was a short drive to meet the team at the Prologue course.

The Prologue was a pancake-flat 1.7 miles. I'd never done anything like that before. How do you pace for 1.7 miles???? All-out, was all I could think. My inexperience was painful. I felt stressed about every little thing. About getting the TT bike off the car. About putting the disk wheel on the back. About pumping up the disk wheel with the adapter. About making sure the brakes were adjusted (thanks, Tommy). About getting the road bike off the car and onto the trainer to warm up. About making sure that I was at the start the obligatory 15 minutes early so the judges could weigh my bike and set it up against the jig to ensure it met UCI regulations. ARGH! This was where I really missed Mike. He's my rock and my calming force. I realized suddenly and painfully how much I rely on him. And it sucked.

Despite my crappy warmup and my stress (no thanks to Jeanne for telling me 10 minutes before my start regarding my comment about being nervous starting on a ramp, "Yeah, the first time I started on a ramp I fell over!"), I finished in 35th out of 84 women! The next day Kendra found me and said, "Nice job! You made first page in your first UCI race. We should get you on the track!" I told her that I didn't think I did it right, didn't think I'd paced myself appropriately hard. "Did you have the taste of metal in your mouth and feel like you were going to puke?" she asked. Uh, no. Should've gone harder. Lesson learned. Prologue down, Stage 1 ahead.

Wednesday brought Stage 1, the Mount Tabor Criterium. The announcer called it "a crit in name only," stating that it really was a short circuit race, owing to the 130 feet of climbing per 1.3 mile lap. Check out the link above and look at the profile map. Basically, if you weren't climbing, you were descending, and it was like no crit I've been in. With over 80 women starting, it was a bit nerve-racking. I started well-positioned, given the size of the field, and fought as hard as I could. Unfortunately, I made a tactical error, of sorts. Tommy saw it all happen from the sidelines. The way the course is laid out, the climb winds its way for about a half mile around several turns. As I was fighting to make my way up through the pack, I didn't see that Jeannie Longo had launched an attack around the corner. Suddenly I found myself gapped, even though I was focused on sticking to the wheels in front of me. ARGH! Tommy said it was painful to watch, "The 10 or so girls in front of you just gave up... they didn't try to chase on, and you got gapped." I chased with 3 other girls, but to no avail. We just tried to hang in there as long as possible, delaying the inevitablitity of getting pulled from the race. We were pulled with 4 laps to go, putting me a little over 4 minutes down in GC behind the leaders going into the next day's stage.

Thursday's stage, the Cooper Spur Circuit, had me terrified. Close to 19 miles made the circuit, which we would complete 3 and a half times. About 8 miles of the circuit was comprised of a climb (again, check out the profile map) - so once again, it was either up, or down. This was the race that Jeanne said "you'll be okay... the pack always stays together because there's such a long descent after the climb that everyone can chase back on." I knew going into it that a long sustained climb at 6-8% wasn't my forte. Which also meant that it was critical to stay positioned as far in the front of the field as possible. Again, I fought as hard as I could, but I was popped off the back of the back with about 200 meters to go from the top of the climb. Despite my best efforts, along with 3 other ladies, we weren't able to close the gap until 8 miles later, when we found ourselves at the back of the back at the base of the hill for the second time up the climb. By then, I felt like my legs were already spent, but I tried getting up into the middle of the pack. It was to no avail, though. By the time I huffed and puffed my way into the pack, it surged as the riders prepared for the sprint (couple spots on the course are marked as sprint points lines or queen of the mountain lines, where riders can earn points for being the best sprinter or the best hill climber - a competition within the overall competition of the race), and once again I found myself off the back. That pretty much was all she wrote. I rode a lap or so with Liz Nettles on my wheel, but then she ran into some difficulties and dropped off. At the middle of my last way up the last hill, it was MY turn to be into some difficulties, and she and Yukie Nakamura passed me. So for most of the race I was by myself. The 90 degree heat and the climbing beat me down. I looked at my arms, my legs, sparkling with crystallized salt from my sweat. "I'm screwed," was my immediate thought. Then I just turned to, "I have to finish this..." I think perhaps my lowest point was when, on my last time up the climb, I was passed by the men's Pro peloton. And their entire caravan. And the entire "unofficial" caravan of race fans and supporters, including the old guy in the beige four-door yelling out his open passenger window, "Good job... almost there.... you DO know you have to make it in a certain time, right? You know that?!" F-you was all I could think. Thankfully I had the composure to keep it to myself. I made it to the finish a humiliating 68th place out of 73, the last rider to make the time cut (in a UCI stage race like this, riders have to finish within a certain percentage, determined per stage, of the winner's time. If outside of this percentage, they are "time cut," and unable to continue on to the next stage.). I was now over 32 minutes down in GC (GC is General Classification. In a stage race, the winner is the rider who has the lowest overall time when you combine all the stages.). Holy cow. Welcome to the big leagues. After the race I made it back to the car to start to change clothes. Luckily Allison had had the forethought to have me park the car in the upper parking lot, adjacent to a rumbling creek. "This is where we sat in the creek to soak our legs last year," she'd said. Sure enough, the creek was full of racers, and I eagerly made my way down the embankment to sit with everyone. I never thought I'd enjoy an ice bath so much! It was then that the "hugeness" of what I was doing hit me: "I'm sitting in a creek with the top female cyclists in the nation right now. Team TIBCO, Colavita-Sutter Home, Veloforma, Aaron's, Value Act Capital ... And I'm listening to them talk about how their fiance proposed, what they're going to do this summer, how the race went for them." While I was a bit awestruck, I did realize that we're all regular people... except they get paid to ride. While I was changing out of my jersey there was a racer from the Veloforma team standing very close by, talking with a friend of hers about her frustrations with her 4-year-old putting his hands in his mouth. "I'm just going to guilt-trip him, now... tell him he has to stop doing it because it's getting Mommy sick!" Before I realized it iI laughed out loud. "It'll never work," I laughed. "When they're that young they don't get that concept." Anyway, the point of me telling this little story is that she then laughed, asked if I had kids, does it get any easier, etc etc. Somehow it came out that I also work full time, and I was frustrated that I got dropped and nervous because this was only my second Cat 2 race. She said, "Oh my God! You can't race at this level and work! An off week for me is about 10 hours on the bike, and otherwise it's around 20! You should be proud that you finished! This is a tough race!"

The Gorge Time Trial was Friday. The night before, I was actually relieved thinking that the next day was a TT. Usually I do well with that event. I was hoping to redeem myself and move up a couple spots in the overall standings. There would be no such luck, however....

Since I was so low in the GC, I was the 3rd rider to start in the TT (they start in reverse order). Unfortunately, my legs didn't feel as good as I was hoping they would during my warmup, and I found myself a bit more winded and fatigued than I expected. Once again I found myself staring down the start ramp, nervous, excited.

The course is beautiful. I had noticed that when Allison and I drove it on our way to Portland on Monday. Lush greenery, wildflowers, parallel to the gorge. However, as with every stage, there was some significant climbing. For cripes sake! I found myself frustrated that this race couldn't just have one stupid stage without a stupid climb up some stupid 6%, 8%, 10% hill. Needless to say, my TT was no good at all. I made up no time, and actually was slower than most of my teammates. 54th out of 67. So what, now I'm over 40 minutes down in GC?! Once again I found myself beaten down. Except now I was beginning to realize that I was not myself...

Back at the room that night I was falling apart. It didn't help that I'd started my period. It didn't help that I was worried about Ryan, who was still so sick that Mike ended up having him stay home from school the entire week. It didn't help that I'd taken my last dose of what was 15 straight days of antibiotics that day. I was so completely not myself that I was falling apart inside, wanting to cry at the drop of a hat, then feeling ridiculous that I was so labile, which made me want to cry, which made me feel even more ridiculous... you get the picture. I was absolutely terrified to start the next day's stage: the dreaded Wy'East Road Race. I honestly didn't know if I could finish. I was scared. I was afraid of failure, afraid of letting the team down, afraid of letting Mike down, afraid of letting Kendra down, just in general being unreasonable with myself. I called Jeannie Bihlmaier, a coaching colleague, and cried and talked with her. I decided to at least start. Tomorrow would be another day. Maybe I'll feel better. It'll be good training, at the very least. I may surprise myself. My team director, Jeanne, also asked me to start, "We need you for the crit on Sunday. Just 74 more miles until you get to race your crit."

The road race started out at a fairly moderate pace. I think everyone knew that the day would be a long one, with the climbing and the heat. Once again, I tried positioning myself in the pack as best as I could. But crap, I'm sliding back?! Where are my legs?! It's mile 8 and I'm getting popped?! Sure enough, as the pack slowly started picking up the pace leading into the first Queen of the Mountains set around mile 11, I found myself out the back of the pack - popped like a bad zit - quick, dramatic, and painful. The peak of my humiliation came when the comissaire, as she passed by in her caravan car, said (in her Swedish accent), "What, do you have a flat?" No, lady, I just suck right now. Then one by one, the caravan cars passed by. Most of them didn't even look over. One gave some encouragement because he recognized me from local racing. Then the last car, with the chief referee, came up beside me. "Just so you know, there's no sag wagon for this race. You'll have the men's races coming up behind you at some point," he looked a little concerned. "That's okay," I replied. "I'm going to abandon at the first feed zone." I knew I was done for. But I also knew I at least had to make it the 30 or so miles to the first feed zone, where Jeanne said she'd be. I needed to ride those miles to be sure I was done.

A couple of riders abandoned before I did, turning around to catch rides back at the start area, I guess, which made me feel better that I wasn't the only one. They abandoned at mile 8. I was at least going to ride the 30 to be absolutely sure. When I pulled into the feed zone, I saw teammate Allison standing there at the car with Jeanne. I told them both that I was done, between trying to hold back tears. And I knew I was done. "Sorry," was all I could keep saying to Jeanne. After some quick calculations, we all knew I wouldn't make the timecut that day, which was set at 12%. And, really, I knew that toughing it out to finish the ride in the heat, for what was sure to be 4 or 5 hours, could potentially put me into a hole from which I may take weeks to recover - placing the rest of my season at risk. Argh!

After following the race from the perspective of the caravan, I decided to head to Wenatchee to meet Mike and the kids and some of the Vertical Earth team, where they were racing. The long drive from Mt Hood to Wenatchee was good for me, providing me time to myself to sit on my pity pot, then get angry, then get over it. I realized, as I frequently try to remind myself, that I do not get paid to do this. I work at least 40 hours a week. I have two kids. This was my second Cat 2 race - heck, this was my first NRC race, let alone UCI with a field that was out of this world! I race because I love it... and if it gets to the point where I can't love it, I need to do some re-thinking.

And finally, the next day I found closure when I talked to Kendra and she told me I should be really proud of myself, expecially considering that I was sick. And the fact that the field was so strong.

But next time, Mike comes with me!

Change Your Mindset

Alli and I went for a ride downtown and back. She became frustrated at the little bit of a grade on Mullan on the way back home - a "false flat" of sorts to her 8-year-old legs.

"I HATE riding on hills!" she cried.

"Alli, I do too. The thing is, you just need to try to change the way you think about riding on them. Think about how they are making you a stronger bike rider, stronger than Ryan, stronger than your friends. Try to think about them like you like them, and it'll make riding more fun," I tried to convince her.

Deep thought....

"I LOVE hills! I eat hills for breakfast, and poop them at dinner!!"

That's my girl.......

Mother's Day

The perfect Mother's Day: A ride with the family to dinner at MoonTime!
I fell in love with this Electra Amsterdam 3-speed cruiser at the Interbike show in Vegas last September. I continuously begged Mike for it...

Mother's Day has come and gone, I realize, but I needed to make special note of my day...

It started with Alli insisting that I stay in bed, and as hard as I tried to sleep, she came in about every 10 minutes or so, wondering if I was ready for breakfast. She kept asking me what I'd like, and finally I told her I'd take a bowl of granola. This sent her scrambling to ask Mike to run to the convenience store, because we were apparently out of milk! Soon enough, a little tray (aka my cookie cooling rack covered with a homemade placemat) appeared at my bedside, with bowl of granola and obligatory Diet Coke (I know - but I don't drink coffee!!!). She sat in bed with me and we chatted while I ate my Mother's Day breakfast in bed.

Later I was able to go for a ride, and we ended the day with a ride down to MoonTime for dinner. Mike surprised me with a new cruiser bike. I'd been asking for it for a couple of months, salivating over it in the shop. I kept "hinting" that it would make a good Mother's Day present. A week or so before Mother's Day, Alli and I were walking into the shop, and I asked her, "Did you tell Daddy that I needed that bike from you guys for Mother's Day?" She looked at me a little funny-like and said, "Well, I told him you wanted it, not that you needed it." I laughed, "Alli, to a woman, want and need are the same thing." She doesn't get it yet...

So, my old cruiser is at the shop for sale, and my new ride sits proudly in the garage. All 3 gears, rim-drive headlight, powder blue leather grips and saddle. Can't wait to attach a basket or two for trips to the beach this summer!

Twilight Zone Shuttle Ride

Wish I had pictures to add to this entry, but no luck. I'm sitting in the Minneapolis-St.Paul airport. My wishful thinking to try to get an earlier flight out of here was just that - a wish. Class got out early tonight, so I made a dash to the airport in the SuperShuttle, but Spokane being the booming metropolis that it is, turns out there's only the one flight out tonight - at 9:40 pm. Bummer. Especially considering I arrived at the airport a little before 5 pm.

So, that leaves me plenty of time to ruminate, and bore you all to death...

First musing is regarding the apparent requisite that shuttle drivers are foreign, speak broken English, and must text and/or talk on their cell phone while they are negotiating rush-hour construction freeway traffic, all the while doing this annoying push-on-the-gas-pedal-now-let-off-the-gas-pedal-so-everyone's-heads-bobble-around-the-ENTIRE-30-minute-ride. Then, there must be some rule, or perhaps increased commissions, for squeezing as many freakin' people in the van as possible. I apparently was the only female in the greater downtown area heading to the airport, because everyone we picked up was the sterotypical businessman in the sterotypical business attire with the sterotypical loud banter with fellow shuttle riders. I was squished onto a bench seat between a 250-pound pinstriped-clad mafioso and a 300+ pound loud nostril breather. When are we getting to the airport????

Second musing is regarding the way our society continues to spiral into this black hole of decreased face-to-face contact. Translation: Why can't I check-in at the airline counter with a real person anymore? I don't WANT to use the self-serve kiosk! I want to see if I can change my seat to somewhere aft of way-the-hell-in-the back.... Oh.... I have to PAY to change seats? I have to PAY for a mid-air snack? Good grief. It's no wonder I hate flying. Now I just have more excuses.

I don't really have a third musing. Guess my brain has sort of shut down after the long weekend. I can't wait to get back home, get back into a routine of riding again. Hopefully Kendra will let me! That's what I love about having a coach - having her tell me what to do (even though it absolutely killed me to stay off the bike) to make sure that I'm "training smarter, not harder" as the adage goes. I'm feeling considerably better (thanks to a much-needed Z-pak and plenty of Sudafed, not to mention the roughly 2 pounds of cough drops ingested over the last two days to keep me from disrupting the entire course...) - so hoping I didn't lose too much ground. I know it's just because I'm so nervous about this race - just because I've never done such a big stage race before. I'm excited to add this to my list of experiences - because really, no matter how it goes, I'm sure to grow from it somehow!!

Here's to no more shuttle rides for awhile!

A Luxurious Weekend Hidden in Minneapolis

Okay, I know this seems like an awful lot of space to dedicate to pictures of a bed, a bathroom, a stereo, and a bathrobe, but let me explain...

Right now I'm in downtown Minneapolis, MN, staying at the luxurious Grand Hotel Minneapolis. To be exact, right now I'm sitting on a bed fitted in fine Egyptian cotton sheets, leaning against 3 generous down pillows, wrapped in a silk and Egyptian cotton robe. This is after I took a hot bath in a tub that actually allowed me to lie down, with the complimentary Aveda shampoo, conditioner, and body bar. Oh, and I almost forgot the lavendar bath salts. I've also devoured the two Godiva dark chocolates so lovingly tucked into the robe on the end of my bed by the housekeeper who turned down the sheets. This is the first time I've been here to Minneapolis, and I wasn't sure what to expect. I've been very pleasantly surprised! In fact, I'm a little out of my element, what with the $9 bottle of Evian in the wetbar, the doormen that I'm not sure if I'm supposed to tip for opening the door for me everytime I want to go outside (pretty sure I don't need to tip 'em unless they grab a cab for me or take my bags...), and the massive buildings and heavy traffic.

I'm here for a continuing education course on Pediatric Incontinence and Pelvic Floor Dysfunction (which so far has lived up to the hype). And while I'm thoroughly enjoying the luxury, I can't help but wish Mike was here to enjoy it with me. I hate coming to these things alone... I spent 2 hours walking around downtown after class got out tonight. Which on the one hand was a bit enjoyable, but on the other hand it was a bit scary, and a lot lonely. At least, considering my recent illness, it's serving to help me recover. I'm extremely eager to get home and get back on the bike though. Nothing like a full week off followed by sitting in class for two straight days to make me feel like my ass is growing by the second, which is inversely proportional to my speed... you see where the mind games get going....

My afternoon reinforced my love for Coeur D Alene. Although I have to admit the 10'-12' wide sidewalks, propensity for public transit, and bike-friendly traffic lanes make me a bit jealous. Downtown also has an amazing skybridge system - you can litterally cover blocks and blocks and blocks all under cover if you wanted. Which I guess probably comes in handy during hard Minnesota winters. Again, the pedestrian way of life is encouraged. I also found myself having multiple feelings about my anonimity in this relative sea of people. One minute, it felt liberating to be somewhere where no one knows who I am - I could pick my nose, scratch my butt, whatever I wanted, and know that I would never see these people again. The next minute, though, I felt deeply lonely. I wanted someone to care that I was scratching my butt - I wanted to care that someone could see me scratching my butt. Let's face it, in CDA, if I was seen scratching my butt, everyone would know in about a day, maybe two, tops. Double-edged sword, that whole butt-scratching thing in a small town. And for the record, no public butt-scratching ever occurred.

I was quickly discouraged and very self-conscious when I tried to kill some time shopping. I found Macy's, figuring I could blow a little money there. Whoa!!!! Between Louis Vuitton, Coach, Kate Spade, and others I hadn't heard of, I couldn't find anything in my price range (translation: clearance rack at TJ Maxx). Walking through the store in my Old Navy jeans and v-neck henley just didn't feel very trendy! I made my way to the "basement," which really was an underground deli, complete with fresh-to-order greek salads, fruit, wood-fired oven pizzas, fresh sushi rolled to order, gelato, Starbucks... and DIET COKE! Thought I was going to pass out from joy! In this hotel there are no vending machines, nor in the one across the street where our class is being held. Which, for those of you who know me well, is serving to just about kill me. I just might have to take up drinking (gasp) coffee to get my caffeine!

Tomorrow is the lab section of the course. Ugh. I can't even undress in a lockeroom, so I hope the placement of perineal electrodes for surface EMG will be done in a discreet manner! The class has 18 of us - all females with the exception of one guy... poor thing. It must be hard, no matter what you tell yourself about how this is all medical terminology/anatomy/physiology, to sit in a room with 18 women while we all discuss the intricacies of the female (and male) "nether regions." Have to say I don't envy him...

Wish me luck. I'm off to curl up under my down comforter, on the down pillows, listen to my iPod broadcast on the complimentary iHome system, and pick the remnants of dark chocolate from my molars.... but I'll leave the $125 robe here at checkout.

A Forced Moment of Reflection...

Last week, when I was in a bit of a panic about my upcoming race at Mt. Hood, I called Kendra to help me lay out my plan for the next few weeks. I was excited to tell her how great I've been feeling, enthusiastic about how my winter training has paid off. "Now your job is to make sure you stay healthy," she told me. I made sure to take my vitamins, got to bed a little earlier, tried to eat the best possible...

Then Mike came home with the sniffles. And the sneezes. And the coughs. ARGH! I knew it would be just a matter of time before I caught it, and despite my inner mantra ("I'm not going to get sick... I'm not going to get sick... I'm not going to get sick..."), I've managed to catch his cold.

Saturday was 102 miles of easy riding with the Multisports.com training camp, which was fun. I got to ride with Paula Newby-Fraser's group, and we managed to keep everyone together. My job was to take care of any stragglers, which wasn't an issue until we hit the hills. There was a guy who came from Chicago - powerful on the flats, but once we hit the hills he was off the back like nothing else. I stayed back to help pull him back to the group and make sure he didn't get lost. Once we got back to Post Falls, I rode home the extra 8 miles or so at my own pace. While I enjoy the experience everytime I do it, I never manage to have enough chamois cream to make it a pleasant experience!!

Sunday was the Lilac Century Ride. I rode with Mike, Erik, and Gabe. Chrystie, Ken, and Skip joined us for some of it, too. At one point, as usual with those guys, the pace picked up for the 10 miles into the Reardan lunch stop. I tried to stay on, but the ol' heart rate wouldn't cooperate, so I said goodbye. I caught back up about 2 miles from the stop. I felt like I had just dug a little bit of a hole, and jumped right in . . . stupidly. The rest of the ride, however, I managed to keep my HR where it should be. By the end, though, my legs were pretty toasted - not burned, just crispy :) I had forgotten how hilly that course is. It's definitely a HARD century. But I was excited that I'd just ridden over 200 miles in 2 days - definitely good prep for Hood....

But then Monday morning brought the dreaded sore throat. And Tuesday brought congestion. Today I called in sick to work, with a barking cough in the morning, sore throat, fatigue, and general pissy attitude. I'm so frustrated right now, and of course my mind is in overdrive - worried that I'm sick so close to Hood, worried that now I'm going to die, worried that the world is coming to an end...blah, blah, blah. Then I remembered (or forced myself to remember, in order not to go insane from my mind in overdrive) how blessed I really am....

I don't get paid to race. Hell, I don't even want to know how much it costs me every year to do this. I do it because it's fun. Because it makes me a better wife, mother, employee. Because I'm relatively good at it and am passionate about it. Because I've shown my children and other women out there that women can be strong, can be competitive, can achieve things.

I am blessed beyond what most people dream about. I have an amazing husband that supports me in my athletic endeavors. He takes the kids to school. He picks up the kids from school so I can ride right after work. He grabs milk from the store at the last minute. He cleans and tunes my bike and sets me up with the best ride ever (PowerTap...compact gearing...Zipp 404's...Cervelo P2C...disk wheel...aero helmet.... he's the one that sets me up, keeping in mind my strengths and weaknesses, the type of course, the conditions). He sets up my bike on the trainer before a race because he knows I'm in the port-a-potty for the 6th time with my nervous pre-race ritual. He puts up with my nervous moodiness that sets in about a week before a really big race. He listens to what I have to say (most of the time) without butting in. He's my voice of reason and my rock.

I have two smart, beautiful children who are my world. I have a great job that fits my schedule. I have lots of friends that I respect and that respect me. We have a small business that, because of all of Mike's hard work, is really starting to pay off. . . I'm blessed more than I deserve.

So, I've got a cold. I'm worried about what this means for Hood. But, when I slow down to look at the big picture, Hood doesn't define me. Hood doesn't define my season. Hood is an opportunity for me to grow, to learn from the best, to figure out what the next step is in my journey to get even better. So I may go into it a little "behind," worse-case scenario. In the end, no matter what happens, I'll be better off for having done it. . .

And maybe I was supposed to get sick - to slow down a minute to realize how lucky I am. . . at least that's what I'm going to tell myself.

Newby-Fraser and Huddle around the Tri Club BBQ...

Tonight's Tri Club BBQ went off without a hitch, with Multisports' Paula Newby-Fraser, Jimmy Riccitello, Paul Huddle, and a couple other pros stopping by to socialize and offer tips to those in attendance. A keg from the Coeur D Alene brewery flowed, and Isaac flipped burgers in the back for a crowd of maybe 60-70. Paul and Paula gave a short talk on race-day prep and execution, then the floor was opened to general questions and funny stories (weed-smoking spectators at IM Hawaii, cheaters hiding in the bushes to grab better swim splits, and wetsuit-stripping volunteers being the first to discover an athlete forgot to don his swimsuit under his wetsuit......). Four of us (Mike, me, Isaac, and Brian H) will be helping out with the camp on Saturday, helping lead out groups on the course. It's scheduled to be a relatively nice day - let's hope for some sun!

Hey, wait a minute...

Had a funny exchange with a fellow rider on our weekly Wednesday nite Tri Club ride - even though I know he only had the best of intentions:

S: Have you lost weight? You look like you've lost some weight...
Me: You mean since last year? Yeah, I've been working a bit at it...
S: That's what I thought... you look like you've lost... you look a lot better...

Snap.

Tour of Walla Walla

I've been so busy since we got back into town Sunday night that it feels I haven't had time to unpack anything, let alone post....

This past weekend was the Tour of Walla Walla, my first opportunity to race with the Bob's Team women - and we rocked!!! We took first in the Team GC competition, and teammate Allison Beall ended up 3rd GC, with me 5th, and teammate Sarah Barber 6th. The rest of the girls rounded out the top spots, making us one of the teams to beat in the northwest. See all the results here.


Friday was the Kellogg Hollow Road Race, a relatively short 35 mile race that was severely impacted by 20-30 mph gusting winds. It was not a part of the overall stage for us 1/2/3 women, but several of us on the team opted in as a good training race in preparation for the upcoming Mt Hood stage race. I was a bit nervous about the conditions, and also didn't particularly want to "burn a lot of matches" in this optional race, so I went into it without expectations, knowing I could turn around and opt out at any time should it seem like the pace would fry me for the next two days' worth of events. The pace started out fast and furious, with several attacks. Finally, Sarah Barber and 5 others made a break stick, and Ally Stacher and I kept the chase group at bay, not working at all to pull anything back. We rode it in pretty casually (TOO casually, at times, it seemed!) with a group of maybe 6 of us, finishing almost 5 minutes back from Sarah's lead group.

Saturday morning brought the time trial - and nerves!!! I was incredibly nervous. Mostly because I had placed a lot of pressure on myself about this race because I was so disappointed in my performance last year. And while the ladies from Team Bobs-Bicycles.com have been nothing but supportive and low-pressure, I personally felt I needed to prove my worth as a contributing member of the team - I felt priviledged to be asked to join this great group of ladies, and I didn't want to let anyone down. Conditions were on the cold side, but the wind was not as bad as the night before. When I finished, I didn't feel too great about my performance, although it was considerably better than last year's. I was feeling doubtful about how I'd likely stacked up to the field.

My teammate/team manager Jeanne Rumps found me later that morning to let me know that I had placed one second behind teammate Allison Beall, for a solid 5th place! "No shit?!" was all I could say - I couldn't believe it! For once I was set up in a nice position going into the road race....

The 60-mile road race was later that afternoon, and I made it my focus to stay with the lead group. The course travels up a 3k hill 3 times - the first as neutral, then once in the middle of the race, then up one last time for a grueling uphill finish (which I DREAD). The second time up the hill, teammate Sarah Barber attacked, which effectively split the field. I was able to stick with it, with a good handful of us cresting the hill (along with Ally Stacher and Allison Beall - we had a good group of us Bob's girls there). Unfortunately, it didn't stick, and the pack ended up re-grouping over the backside of the course. Which meant the finish would be a killer. The 3rd and final time up the climb also saw attacks from Sarah and a couple others, but it finished in a pack sprint, with me finishing seconds (8) behind the winner. I was a bit bummed that I couldn't muster 8 seconds out of my legs, but compared to last year, I was head and shoulders above... finishing with the lead pack was awesome!

Sunday morning was the crit - notably my favorite event. I had my sights set on a top 3 placing. Mike wired all of us Bob's girls up with radios, and he and Jeanne talked us through the entire race. I did my best to mark everyone I could up front, but I lost 2 seconds to my closest competitor in the GC on a prime lap, and then ultimately finished 5th to her 3rd, which cost me a place in the GC overall. I was disappointed in my positioning going into the second-to-last corner of the last lap, but as with all race experiences, I learned valuable lessons that will just make me stronger. The team, for our first race together, showed everyone that we're a formidable opponent - taking the team GC competition by 4 seconds. Getting more time to race together should prove to make us just that much stronger as we get to know each other's strengths. I just hope I can keep contributing!

I can't wait to see what else the season brings!!! Go Team Bob's Girls!!!

True Test

Tonight I raced the first race of the Twilight Series with the "A" men.

Tonight I shut down a breakaway.

Tonight I rode my ass off, and felt great.

Tonight Mike said, "Oh my God!!! I think you might be the second strongest person here! You rode my legs off with a couple of those pulls!"

Tonight I feel like I've arrived somewhere I've been only dreaming about...