Lucky 113….Almost

Sunday was the Greenbiar Challenge in Boonsboro, MD. It was a UCI 2 classified mountain bike event which means the top ten finishers would get points toward qualifying for world cup events and the Olympics for 2008.

We arrived fresh on Saturday and I was eager to test ride the trail since it was going to be my third time on my mountain bike since December 2006. Northeast living means limited outdoor riding as I have mentioned numerous times. I took a quick spin out on the race course and found it fun, fast and all completely rideable even with my pre-race “I don’t wanna crash before I get to the startline” jitters. I am getting so much more confident and better in the roots, rocks and the sneaky leaf covered trails hiding trolls that want to take you out.

My number was 113 and I was not sure how that was going to pan out. I think Italy is one of the only countries that views the number 13 as lucky. Anyhow, I pinned my number on my sweet new threads of my new team North Atlantic Velo. For this race I had a strategy. Since the stresses in my personal life has seriously encroached my mental race energy I had to take a different plan of action. My head was not in the game – in so many words, I had a tough time wanting to race. Submitting a downgrade request to beginner was sounding really nice (that sound you hear is my husband coughing “Sandbagger!” into his hands).

At the gun I actually took my time off the start. As you can see, I am not in the picture. I kept my nerves sort of in check. I was on of the last chicks off the line and into the single track. This is not something I normally practice because passing racers on the single track expends a lot of energy.

By the second lap, my head was in the game. I was reeling in the chicks one at time, clawing my way up to the top 10. Keeping a steady pace, I climbed the steep hills really strong, clamored down some of the descents, dropped the hammer on everything else and tried not to hit the bubbas fishing next to the lake that we had to skirt around. The pro men were sent out before the pro women and were really kind about not pushing the women racers off the course and announcing themselves when they passed.

My third lap was just as speedy as my second lap until I came through the last root and mud downhill section. All of a sudden I heard a snap and shshshshhshsh. Yup, I shredded my rear tire. Quickly moving to the side of the trail I slapped a tube in while I watched all the racers I had previously passed whiz by me…….sadness….I gingerly rode to the start finish area yelling for a new wheel. The neutral support lickity split provided me with a wheel and tube. WOW! Although the gearing was off and the wheel was so heavy comparatively, I was so happy I was not going to DNF.

I finished out my final fourth lap and was ready to head to the showers. But USADA (US Anti-Doping Association) was there to greet me and chaperone me to provide a sample. Lucky 113 strikes again. They hauled my muddy body down about mile to the station. The lady driving the Gator was laughing at the prospect of me walking back to the car. She said with a giggle, “It sure is going to be a long walk back to your car.” I told her I was going to be pretty pissed off if I had to walk back in my biking shoes. (No pun intended.) I had to wait about 45 minutes and was released without having to provide a sample since I was on second reserve. That means if none of the first picks showed I was the fill-in. Nice.

So where is the luck in all of this? I really have to dig deep these days to find pleasant things to think about with all the drama that has been going in my life. So here it goes:

I am married to the coolest and most supportive guy in the world who drives me all over the US and Canada for bike races.
I finished the race.
I got to meet up with some race pals from last season- YEAH!
I did not get hurt.
The race course was wicked awesome.
The promoters for the race were fantastic-thanks to Jim at Potomac Velo and all his crew! Great race!

Ridin’ Dirty……or Nerdy?!??

Moving back to the east coast has challenged me on a variety of levels, biking included. I have spent many long hours in the basement looking at the snow piles out the window. Now that the snow has almost all melted it is time to go out and play! But unlike Colorado after the snow melts the roads here are not dry…..my bike has been perpetually dirty. My hubby rigged a fender on my road bike so I could get a few hours outside without freezing winter run-off spraying my butt. Sexy, I know.

I did my first training road race last weekend. It was very interesting. The race was next to the Hudson River and the spring breeze cut right through all my warm clothes. But the sun was shining and I was feeling like I had just been released from prison. I was scared I would have lost my edge pack riding since I have been training next to the washing machine in the basement for the last few months. The race was with CAT IV and V men. So here I was riding next to some guys who were similar to a washing machine. Many times I gasped for my life and collar bone with the sketchy wheels and crazy moves – like the one with race smarts who crossed the yellow line into oncoming traffic. Thankfully, there were only close calls and no crashes. I pulled off a 3rd place among the women in the group and about mid-pack for the men, finishing with the lead group.

This weekend we made the trip to Connecticut for my first mountain bike race and ride of the year. My aunt and uncle were so generous to take us in for the weekend and accompany us to the race. It was the first time I had been on my mountain bike since December. I was not too sure how I was going to handle the technical parts of the trails. Also, I acquired a cold the day before the race. My head was stuffy and I was feeling a bit grumpy about racing. It was especially hard to be motivated to race when the thermometer barely went over 40 degrees and the wind off the lake sent a chilling reminder that it could snow.

The problem with not riding my mountain bike turned out not to be the technical aspects of the race course; it was how my bike was functioning. The neat part about this race was there were 6-7 pro women. I was impressed with the turnout. The first lap, I shot like a bunch of nerves out of the gate. I took a lead position pretty quickly, but lost it to severe chain suck. Yup, my chain went between my cogs and spokes of my rear wheel. I thought I was going to break my rear derailleur yanking it free. As I finished my first lap, with Steve yelling, “You’re only 45 seconds behind the leaders.” To which I replied a disenchanted, “Whatever.”

So my first lap was not so hot with the mechanical. But I did motor through the race course smoothly. I was happy that my skills flowed back so easily. The trails were super muddy, with long stretches of deep mud puddles in some sections and fun roots and rocks in others. By the second lap I had caught up to the third place racer. We were riding together when another pro woman came from the opposite direction asking, “Am I going the wrong way?” Unfortunately, she had gotten off course and missed a turn. Sadly, she also packed it in for the day.

Into my third lap, I passed the racer I was riding with and did not see her again. I did get another mechanical, but was able to fix it pretty quickly. I was starting to get a little tired and having trouble to maintain focus. I looked for my energy gel I had stuffed in my waistband-somehow it had worked its way into my tights. I rooted around for it, but alas, no luck. I figured I would not starve and my energy would have to stay in my pants.

At the beginning of the final and fourth lap I endoed hard. I took a slow motion line into a rock garden mud puddle and flew over the handlebars, slamming my right knee on the rock and soaking my hand and foot in the icy muddy water. After five seconds of crying, I got back on the bike and pushed my way through the pain. I tried to take a sip out of my camel back, but all I got was a mouthful of mud. Pushing through the remainder of the race course, I had another incident of severe chain suck. This one was much more difficult to yank out because by this time my bike was so encrusted with mud. I started acting like Hincapie, I looked over my shoulder to see who was riding up to me-would anyone catch me with my crash and mechanical?

I reached the home stretch crossing the finish line with a 3rd place finish. I earned that place on so many levels. From being sick, to overcoming the mind demons to persevering through mechanicals and crashes it will probably be one of my more memorable races. Best of all, it was awesome to have my family and my husband there to support me and cheer for me. Thanks guys!