Month: August 2016

Five seasons of Laramie Mountain Bike Series over four years of learning how to be a bike racer… and I took home the overall open women’s title!

LMBS was rough this year.  Lack of training + lack of motivation or interest for XC racing + petty small town BS + the road race crash = kind of dragging myself to those six Tuesday races. But I made all six (another first), finished all of them, and survived!  I really wanted to win the overall this year, but knew it probably wouldn’t be easy, but so happy I fought until the end and came out on top of my local race series!

After the first two races I kind of struggled.  LMBS 3 came a few days after my amazing race at the Tatanka 50k, and involved two laps up Death Crotch.  I just never could get a good rhythm on the climb, and the course really didn’t suite me well with it’s rather short amount of climbing (granted tough), combined with a ton of descending.  I hung on for 2nd.  LMBS 4 was more of the same… started on a descent, ended on a descent.  I did make myself proud with clearing Aspen for the first time in the climbing direction with no dabs (I remember Sara and I walking decent amounts of it during the race in 2015).  The final lap three of us came together, which I don’t remember seeing happening in an open LMBS race in a long time.  I was riding 3rd and put down a great pass and sprint on a tight corner into a climb to take over 1st.  I’d end up taking 2nd again.

I did the math and knew what I needed to do for the final two races.  LMBS 5 almost didn’t happen, though.  When I pulled into the parking lot I noticed my rear tire had deflated completely and come off the bead.  In a panic I hauled butt down the summit and into Laramie, where Joel from the Pedal House quickly grabbed my bike, changed out the valve core, aired it back up, and sent me on my way.  I drove the way back up to the race with my gloves and helmet on, knowing I wouldn’t have much time to make it to the starting line.  I pulled in with ten minutes to spare, so no warm up as I had time to get the bike off the car, shove a pump and a million CO2’s in my back pocket, check in, and line up.  Not ideal.

Luckily the course was to my style, with 20-30 minutes of solid climbing, followed by the descent down Death Crotch, and a steady uphill double track climb back through the start-finish.  I knew I had to hammer the climbing to build the cushion for the descending, as Alyssa is a super fast descender.  It had rained so the dirt had moisture which led to tacky hero dirt.  And hammered I did from the whistle, and never looked back!  I even took the QOM on the Summit trail climb, which I was surprised about since the rocks were slippery.  I flew down Death Crotch, and even had a few advanced men racers tell me I was “flying.”  Better than last year when a guy tried crashing me and another girl out for going “so slow!”  Second lap went well, though another storm rolled in and just as I was cresting the climbing portion of Death Crotch to begin the descent there was lightning and icy rain pelting me.  Usually I recover ever so slightly across the ridge, but I wanted out of the exposed area.  I powered up the double track and took 1st place, much to my relief!  And it all worked out that the 50psi of rear tire pressure I had worked out due to the tacky dirt!

Another round of math was done, and I realized I didn’t even have to show up to race at LMBS 6 and I would still secure the overall win.  However, I wasn’t going down without a fight! My parents came out to watch me for the first time at an LMBS, which was exciting!  The course made me nervous, as once it again it ended with a big descent.  The start did involve climbing up Middle Aspen, so I knew I’d have to do what I did best, and that was climb.  I did worry how my legs would respond as this was days after the National Championships up Pikes Peak, but it would be what it would be.  With my new Specialized Racing white/pink kit I took to the starting line.

The first lap I felt awful.  Absolutely awful!  Side ache and just so unfit.  But I knew I was flying as the steady stream of advanced men hadn’t flown by me yet, and they wouldn’t until I started the descent down Pole Creek back to the start-finish!  I waved a few guys around, and one told me, “You’re hauling ass!” which made me smile.  Unfortunately we would hit the kid racers on LiMBS, which to me was a very dangerous situation, as we were going 15-20mph, coming up on children on bicycles who really have no idea about what to do in race situations.  Luckily it all went without incident, and we hammered through for the second lap.  Second lap I felt better, and aside from going off my line and having to run up a loose climb on Middle Aspen, it was all going swell.  I forced myself to get out of the saddle and to hammer when I could, especially on climbs.

After about an hour and four minutes I came through to my parents’ cheers with a big smile on my face and first LMBS overall win!

I won’t lie, I’m happy and relieved that MTB race season is over for 2016 (minus the Dakota 5-O, which I’m doing more for the awesome trails and experience than a race).  On paper it actually looks like a good season, with double podiums at Fat Bike Nationals, and then three wins at LMBS and strong races at the Half Growler and Tatanka 50k.  But to me it just wasn’t the season I had imagined.  But it’s okay to have an off year, right? 😀  What I’m really enjoying are my more confident descending skills… I even took 3 MINUTES off my PR down Wathan… 3 minutes is huge!

I’ve started to try to think of what 2017 would hold in store for me.  Initially in early 2016 I had said I wouldn’t race in 2017 and would focus on trying to get over to Iceland to ride, but as my season went on this year and didn’t go ideally I realized I wanted to see if I could make 2017 go a bit better, plus I’m dipping into my Iceland savings to pay the medical bills from the road race crash, and I only want to go to Iceland if I have the money to do the trip exactly how I want!

2017 rough plans:

• Absolutely no mass start traditional road races.  My wallet cannot afford another $7000 trip to the ER due to someone else’s poor bike skills.  I do plan on trying to do some of the hill climbing events, and maybe early spring TT’s to get that motivation burning and going.  I think a flaw for 2016 was I didn’t race all spring until Florida Cup in May.  There was nothing keeping the spark alive to keep training.
• Fat Bike World Championships in Crested Butte in January.  I’ll get to meet up with the Dirt Components crew which will be awesome, and I’ll get in several solid days of fun on the fat bike!
• Half Growler to try to go sub-4 hours after having an awesome time this year at the race
• Tatanka 50k because the race was amazing!
• Possibly the Carson City Off-Road
• Leadville Stage Race.  Expensive, but it’s perked my interest, and I think is the most feasible way for me to go back and “finish” the LT100 course.  Plus I’ve been wanting to do a mountain bike stage race for awhile now.  There’s a new stage race in Iceland, and wouldn’t this be a good prep?  😀
• USAC Hill Climb Nationals.  Obvious reasons!
• Missing from the plans are the Gowdy Grinder.  That race is out to kill me, and I haven’t had fun at it for years.  I’m on the fence about LMBS, surprisingly.  It’ll really depend on how training and preparation goes, along with how my race calendar shapes up.  I only want to race LMBS next year if I’m in great XC shape.
• I’ll have to see how it all fits in and goes, but being considered is USAC Marathon MTB Nationals and the 50k version of Pierre’s Hole.

There’s a theme, and once again it’s longer endurance races.  Eventually I think I’ll decide whether to focus on XCO vs. XCM, but until then I think I’m young enough to keep flip flopping 🙂

Until then… there’s cyclocross and riding just how I feel like it (wait, that’s been most of this year… ha!)!!  Also I am trying to mix it up with a few other sports.  I’m really itching to re-learn how to skate ski and add that in for my winter training (though who wants to bet how quickly I’m trying to enter ski races?).

I can’t recall how many times I’ve laid in bed and daydreamed what winning a national championship would be like… coming across the line… would I try to post up?  Maybe just one arm up, I’m too clumsy for that two hands off the bars thing.  Finishing with happy tears.  This is what it’d be like for a mountain bike title…. this is what it would be like for a fat bike title… hmmm, unlikely, but a hill climb title.  Wouldn’t it be awesome?  The jersey to wear on Fourth of July, and getting to add the Stars and Stripes to the collar and sleeves of all my kits for the rest of my life.  All of it just sounds so awesome!

I pretty much decided last minute (aka a week out) to do the USAC Hill Climb National Championships.  I debated it most of the summer, and then after a horrid day climbing Mt. Evans, another Colorado 14er with paved road access (followed by another horrid day of attempting to climb Guanella Pass and giving up), I was pretty discouraged by the thought of giving Pikes Peak, a harder 14er climb a go.  Finally I decided what the hell and registered.  I figured if anything I could just mark the second road-bikeable 14er off my list and be done with this climbing nonsense and a season filled with some not so good times. On Wednesday I woke up with a sore throat and stuffy head that persisted all week, so I kicked myself for possibly getting sick so close to a race I already registered for, and one that couldn’t take most cold medicines for.  OK, just survive this…

After spending almost four hours in the car attempting to get to Colorado Springs on a Friday afternoon, I finally arrived to packet pick up, and old teamies Joe and Mike, who had a beer ready for me at the bar.  Pikes Peak was enveloped in stormy clouds as we swapped our thoughts for the next day and got caught up on our lives.  I was starting to get nervous.  What exactly had I gotten myself into?!  I have barely been doing anything that counts as “training,” let alone riding, and had those memories of Mt. Evans in the back of my mind.  The race would follow the PPIHC course (Pikes Peak International Hill Climb… the infamous car race that takes place every year) – 12.4 miles with 4,700 feet of elevation gain and 156 turns.  A 12.4 mile bike race may not seem like anything, but climbing 4,700 feet in that time is pretty damn insane… not to mention the race starts at 9,300 feet and ends up at 14,110 feet!

I surprisingly slept well, and woke up at 4:20am ready to go.  Packed up the car and swung through McDonald’s drive thru (which had a line… at 4:45am?!) for my traditional Number 3 with large Hi-C Orange and large vanilla latte.  The drive up to Pikes Peak Toll Road was uneventful, and I smiled as I railed Mr. Fozzy through the corners.  Pikes Peak is, after all, a special place for me.  It’s where I met the ex that introduced me to cycling… it’s where I saw Paul Walker in person, and was one of the last events I ever photographed as I winded down my racing photography stint.  So driving my turbo SUV like a race car brought me joy among the impending doom of what was coming up.

It was chilly as I aimlessly wandered around with no purpose.  Use the port-a-potty.  Get in my timing chip.  Affix said chip to bike.  Debate clothes.  Eat a third of my egg mcmuffin and get all sad as I had no appetite.  Laugh at Mike throwing up gang signs.  Ride 0.6 miles and call it a warm up.  Finally settle on arm warmers, thermal long sleeve jersey, wind vest, bibs, knee warmers, wool winter socks, and long finger gloves – I thought it was summer, why all the clothes?  Hold my teammate’s bike as she uses the port-a-potty.  Shoot, guess we gotta go race now.

Roll up to the start.  There’s three of us, so there’s a 33.33% chance of winning a national championship.  I had let the thoughts roll into my head the week between registration and the race.  I would try to shake them off.  I didn’t want to get myself excited for something that probably wouldn’t happen, much like at fat bike nationals, where it was so close but four minutes away in the end.  The whistle blows and Melissa takes off in a sprint, and I’m left wondering how to get my left foot in my pedal.  UGH.  I didn’t want a fast start.  There’s only so many matches when racing up to 14,000 feet in elevation that you can burn.  But I chased.  I wasn’t going down without a fight.  I tucked into her back wheel.  She was pushing the pace.  After about a mile or so the grade turned up, and I came around her and just kept going.  I just figured I’d just go and see what would happen.  I’d never led in a national championship race except for the 20 seconds I led in the pro race at Fat Bike Nationals.  Another what the hell moment, it’s not like I wouldn’t finish with at least a bronze medal if it all went bad.

The climb to the summit averages 7%, with many much much much steeper portions.  Surprisingly I found myself just trucking along, though I was sad to discover how early I was already in my granny gear (yay compact cranksets and 32t cogs!).  My cadence settled in around the high 60s (big contrast to my normal 90+ rpm), and power in the tempo zone.  I had come to terms that for two hours, or hopefully less, my sole purpose in life was to talk to Paul Walker’s ghost and to pedal my bike nonstop.  Really as simple as that.  Surprisingly, the course was going fast.  I ticked off every mile and gave myself a good ol’ “there ya go, now — miles to go to the top!”  I mean, it was 12.4 miles.  Anybody can do anything for 12.4 miles, right?

Coming up to the W’s was almost an overwhelming moment for me.  There is was… my corner!  The one I photographed from in 2011!  For a brief second I actually closed my eyes and said “This one’s for you, Paul.”  (If anybody hasn’t figured out that the import car scene pretty much shaped my adult life by now, now you know.  Seriously, I wouldn’t have been riding a bike up Pikes Peak if it wasn’t for all the car stuff.)  The W’s are hard… hell, I had struggled walking up them with 20 pounds of camera gear in 2011… and here I was grinding them out on a bike (which actually did seem easier).  But I knew after the W’s came Devil’s Playground, where for some brief minutes the road flattens out and descends into Bottomless Pit.

This is where I would start riding blind.  I have never been beyond Devil’s Playground.  And I had made the fatal assumption that the road flattened out after Devil’s Playground for good… forgetting the fact it still ascends something like 1,100 feet in a handful of miles.  Bottomless Pit is a teaser… 30mph down I flew to grind 4.5mph up the hill that follows.  It had hit… the wall of doom.  I still had not seen my competitors behind me, which I had checked for as the road switchbacked up, so I knew I had a solid lead, but I also knew that anything can happen at any moment on a bicycle.  I knew I hadn’t been drinking very well, as it’s really hard to drink when your heart rate is 180bpm and you’re focused on pedaling at a steady pace.  So I panic drank some of my Tailwind mix.  I was using the raspberry caffeinated mix, so if anything I was hoping for a caffeine high.  Also to note, I had finally crossed above 13,000 feet in elevation, so it’s quite possible that I just wasn’t moving the oxygen to my muscles that I was needing.  Because 13,000 feet is very high, and it was only the second time in my life I had been at this elevation.  (Side note:  I am very thankful I was born at 7200 feet, raised at nearly 9000 feet, live now at 6200 feet, and race/train at 7000-9000 feet, as moderately high altitude has little effect on me compared to most others.)

At about mile 10 I spotted the familiar blue and yellow kit of Spradley Barr Wind Chill Cycling on the back of Joe… finally, my rabbit!  But I just couldn’t get those legs to turn faster, as my cadence dropped into the 50s, and my heart rate went from north of 180bpm to the 170s.  Elevation… it’s a bitch when it finally does affect you.  Or was it my lack of calories and fluid intake?  Oh hell, just keep pedaling.  WHY ARE THE FINAL MILES SO DAMN STEEP?  ARGHH.  My exact thoughts.  Come on Paul Walker, I could really use a shot of nitrous right about now…

Around a hairpin and cog railroad tracks.  OK, Joe mentioned something about this being near the summit.  Dammit, why can’t I catch him?  Around another corner… wait, is that the finishing arch I see?  HOLY SH!T I’M GOING TO WIN A NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP!  And that, my friends, is how I managed to up my speed, up my power, up my heart rate, and actually start picking up speed on a bicycle again.  Or the caffeinated Tailwind kicked in.  Or I managed to engage NOS Program 2.0 and speed ahead of Toretto.

OK OK OK, WHAT DO I DO?!  The daydream… it was becoming reality.  Like… I don’t win very many bike races, let alone really really really REALLY important ones.  Zip the vest… ok, whew, remembered that.  Can’t have anyone seeing me win with my sports bra hanging out.  I don’t do it at LMBS, and I certainly can’t have it happening now!  Massive smile and a celebratory fist pump and single right arm raised into the air!

1 hour 51 minutes 12.89 seconds.  The inaugural masters women 30-39 hill climb national champion.

The flood gates of uncontrollable crying and tears began.  Joe Joe Joe Joe I WON!!! I yelled out as I finally caught Joe after the finish line.  I stopped and slumped over my bars just crying.  I think my other teammate Kate came over and asked what was wrong and I stammered out some sloppy half-crying half-happy “I WON!”  Then I noticed how badly my butt hurt.  So painful I couldn’t walk.  I couldn’t bend over.  Wow, 7% grade for nearly two hours does the sit bones no good!  (I never was out of the saddle after the starting sprint.  I was worried the acceleration in my heart rate could be a bad mistake.)

The time at the summit was spent hobbling over to get my gear bag and tossing on my warm thermal jacket and dry gloves – my fingers were so cold and numb by the summit that I had trouble shifting for the final get up and go, and then gathering up some teammates for photos at the summit sign.  I had huge concerns about descending, as I spent the first 5 miles descending Mt. Evans crying in fear, but luckily Pikes Peak Highway is perfectly paved (see, car races are good for keeping road conditions good!), and after changing into my heavier wind proof gloves I descended confidently.  Traffic kept the speeds slow, and at some points I was actually wanting to go faster.

I still can’t believe how it went.  Much like the Tatanka 50k where I spent a lot of time breaking my personal rules, I did the same on Pikes Peak.  I never thought I’d get a national title on a road bike, especially after my crash in June that left me swearing off any sort of group road biking competitive activity for the foreseeable future.  I’ve always described myself as a climber, but this year it never quite went well for me the times I tried the “big girl” climbs on Mt. Evans and Guanella.  But the entire time up Pikes Peak, minus for some negative thoughts with two miles to go, I was actually calm and enjoying the climb… I had accepted that it is what it is, and only way to go was to keep pedaling upwards.  ‘

But I also think I helped break some other people’s rules.  Unfortunately I have had it mentioned to me more than enough times statements such as “You’re really big to be a climber,” “You climb well for someone your size,” and “You’re better off being a sprinter.”  Y’all, I am 5’9.5″ and 150 pounds.  By American standards, I am a tiny person.  But to some cyclists, I’m apparently “too big” to be climbing hills, or at least have it be my strength on a bike.  Yeah, I’m almost 33 years old…  I have hips and a big booty.  I have cellulite, and I certainly do not have a six pack (unless it’s six pack of tacos).  I can put down 800 watts in a sprint, there’s no doubt I can sprint.  But holy crap people, I can climb on a bike as well!  It’s my saving grace on the mountain bike, it’s how I do well at those races, and my ability to climb has also paid off on the road bike.  Stop telling people what they should be good at based on a body size!  /soapbox

But really…

Anyways, for a final wrap up of some nerdy statistics:
12.2 miles
4,717 feet of elevation gain
6.6mph average speed
182bpm average heart rate, max of 192bpm
67rpm average cadence
192 watts average power (195 watts weighted average)

I spent 41% of my time in my tempo power zone 167-199 watts), and 31% of my time in my threshold zone 200-233 watts).  I am super comfortable with how that all worked out, and mostly am very happy about the consistent effort.

What a great highlight of my race season as it winds down!  Shoot, I just may have to race it again next year!