Category: Race Report

Oh Gowdy Grinder… probably my favorite race and the one that always surprises me the most.  This year was weird… last year I had shown up with no expectations aside from being really slow, and won.  That surprised me so much I did some Jersey-esque fist pump across the finish line even.  But this year, I suppose there were expectations.  I upgraded to advanced this year, as anyone should do after they win.  I wanted to do well, but when I looked at last year’s times and compared to my pre-rides, I’d just feel sick and have to fight the urge to downgrade.  Yeah yeah yeah, “better to finish last in advanced/expert/cat 1 then win intermediate/sport/cat 2″… that’s great, but podiums feel good, you know?  (And hence why there’s sandbagging!)

Higher category means the “honor” of racing later in the day, which just made me get more and more nervous.  Thanks, but I prefer my crappy 8am start times because I literally am not awake before I realize WTF I’m about to get myself into!  Waiting until 11:30am gave me time to get nervous and queasy.  My parents decided to come and finally watch me race for the first time ever (yay!), which was nice but added a whole another level of stress as I was having to explain to my mom why there were half naked men strapping on heart rate monitors and why the Honey Stinger kits look like honeycomb, along with my normal pre-race routine.

Sadly, a late May snowstorm caused the Grinder to be postponed to the date of the Beti Bike Bash, so the women’s fields were really suffering this year (especially Open).  I think nearly all the women’s fields were half of that last year.  I get that it was a big conflict, and unavoidable.  To me it was a no brainer after 10 minutes of thought of which race I would attend, but I know it wasn’t like that for most of the other women who race in this area.  There will still a lot of unfamiliar faces to me, but it was exciting to see the Wyoming gals in full force and with very good chances in most of the categories!!

There were 9 ladies this year in Advanced Women, most familiar faces to me from other races.  So we all fit on the front row!  I had a crappy start, I couldn’t get my left foot to clip in for the life of me, though I was out front.  I think this was a blessing because it stopped me from my usual habit of sprinting like a bat out of a hell at the start and therefore blowing up.  The start starts with a rather steep (ha, Koppenberg, you ain’t crap…) double track climb.  I just did my wanna be climber thing, and well, climbed.  And climbed.  And climbed some more… by myself.  I had that eery feeling come over me and waited for the pack to whiz past, or even just one or two ladies.  I looked back, wondering if everyone was just drafting off of me (it was quite the headwind after all), and I was alone.  Hmmm, OK, I can go with this!

I hit the single track and luckily the one Open man I caught pulled off quickly to let me through, which I thanked him profusely for (wait, I caught an Open man?).  No angry yelling and cyclocross maneuvers needed this year to get around guys who couldn’t ride the techy parts on the ascent to the top!  I felt strong and though my thighs were burning I knew I was going the faster I have ever gone on this section of trail.  At the top before some of the descending started another guy pulled off for me.  That’s when the issue happened.  There’s a narrow rocky passage that is techy, butttttt for someone racing OPEN, key word OPEN, men, it shouldn’t be an issue.  Well, another guy in front of me couldn’t make it through it and didn’t pull off so I couldn’t blast through it which meant I got awkwardly stuck.  A spectator started yelling at the guy, and that’s when Mel, who was in 2nd, caught me and got through.  She gave the guy and ear full and I hastily said “you know if you moved we both could’ve made it through?!” and the spectator continued yelling at the guy for holding up the leaders of the women’s class.  Ugh, race drama.

So I was now in 2nd, which was alright because I could see Mel’s technical and descending skills were better than mine.  I knew from Strava she’d kick my ass, so I wasn’t too upset about it.  She would’ve got me regardless of the careless Open guy or not.  I was still feeling strong, and nailed a tricky portion of Ignoramus on the way to 2%.  Then the fun hiking started, and I decided to just run the rock garden (and was smart and carried my bike this year so it wouldn’t get stuck on something!).  I was keeping Mel in sight, though as I came off Rock N Roller someone told me she had 30 seconds.  I flew down the Stone Temple descent, and came through to start my “long” (and final) lap.  Jim was there to hand me a bottle but I didn’t take it as I hadn’t drank anything on the first lap.  I drank a bit (which always makes me feel like a rock star! “Hey, look at me, I’m all drinking from my bottle like a pro!” haha) and headed up the double track climb.  Which felt like hell this time… I had almost caught Mel again, but she got her legs back before I did and zipped off down Pinball.

Pinball and I have an awkward trail-rider relationship.  It’s not really harder than most stuff found on Stone Temple, but I just can’t find a good rhythm down it.  I had a pre-rider riding my butt behind me which also through off my concentration.  Still had a PR down it, and I flew over the scary cattle guard which is always a good thing!  I was dumb and decided to remount from the hike-a-bike-down-a-cliff-onto-a-bridge portion on the bridge, which was a mistake because I always bobble coming off the bridge so I had to run up the trail a bit and remount from there.  Crow Creek went well, and I rode half the rock garden before my whacko brain kicked in so I ran it past all the rocks.  I managed to ride up and over the second bridge, woo woo!  By this time I could no longer see Mel, and the only person behind me was Open racer #2 that had kindly let me pass at the top of Stone Temple – he’d end up being my riding buddy for the rest of my race 🙂

Down the dirt road section where I grabbed some water before the grind that is Mo Rocka came.  Oh Mo Rocka… the only trail I’ve endo-ed on while walking my bike.  By this time my heart rate was redlined and I was pooped and could feel myself getting messy.  Unfortunately the kind folks who put on the Grinder feel the need to torture us racers and taped off the easier ways on some of the rock features, which lead to two dismounts and walks I wasn’t planning on.  The first part of Mo Rocka is the last time I saw Mel.  I felt OK on the trail, knew I was going faster than I have ever gone, but could feel the clumsiness getting worse.  At one point I offered Open #2 to go around me and he politely declined, stating, “You’re in 2nd, I’m last, you stay in front!”  It was super kind, because I knew he was a faster technical rider than me and I was seriously holding him up at times!

Starting up Albert’s Alley I realized I was in a way harder gear than I use to using, so that was good motivation.  My left butt cheek had started to really cramp up and I was physically hurting, so I tried various Jason Aldean songs to keep me going (Hey now, Emily Batty sings while racing, too, maybe not country, but she’s sings!  It works!).  I think at one point I came up with the lyrics “I’m just a biker chick with a farmer’s tan” which I started laughing about.  The steep rock face climb I just didn’t have the power for, and actually half fell, half stepped off my bike so I walked up that hill.  Whew, I knew I was getting tired when I was walking hills… finally there was the descent and I knew a chance to kinda recover before the climb up Stone Temple again.

At the end of Albert’s Alley my parents and Jim were waiting, which was super awesome!  Their cheers put a smile on my face and gave me some mental motivation for the final push towards the finish.  I knew I just had to survive and keep my whits about me.  At the top of 2% I saw another girl and had a big “oh sh!t!!!!” moment and took off as fast as I could.  I knew I had lost a lot of steam and was hurting and just wasn’t going as hard as I could on Stone Temple with the risk of not knowing who was behind me, and it was catching up to me.  Rock N Roller went fine, and as I turned onto Ignoramus again to descend to Stone Temple I… well, I don’t know what I did.  Suddenly I was flying face first into rocks, cactus, and a very scratchy bush of some sort.  My chest smashed into a rock, and I felt the ground and bush scratching the hell out of my arms, and my left hand was in cactus.  My back popped, too.  By then I was in pure panic mode and as Open #2 rushed over to me I just shouted “I can’t, there’s a girl!!!!” and I grabbed my bottle and jumped on my bike, not even sure it was ok.  Alyssa was there, right behind me… bottom of Ignoramus she scooted around the right and flew away.  I knew chasing her down the descent was risky, and since I had already fallen back to 3rd I knew it wasn’t worth losing my podium spot just to chase her down.  I was shaken, sore, and my helmet and glasses were on crooked.  I almost lost it again where Suzie had her nasty wreck on Friday that garnered us a field trip the ER, so I had to mentally regroup myself and just survive.  Survive.

I came around to the finish and could hear my dad yelling.  I stood up and sprinted, though I ended up sitting back down because I felt silly sprinting against nobody.  I think I smiled when I crossed the line, but all I really wanted to do was stop and rub my boobs, which were hurting from my crash.  Hahaha, I know… so awkward!  Alyssa said she felt bad for passing me and I shrugged, haha.  It’s mountain bike racing, crap happens!  You crash, you run into issues with other racers, you have a bad day.  You’re just racing for some cheap prizes, it’s not your livelihood in nearly all the cases, so why care?  I had just finished my first advanced (“cat 1” level, so I tell myself) race, on an extremely hard course between the technicalness and elevation, and I had a podium placement!  Life was good!

1:35:07 was my final time!  I did the “yellow” medium lap 4 minutes 20 seconds faster than last year, so that made me happy, and I PR’d on damn near every segment.  Though I got messy towards the end, I think I rode technically well, though there’s room for improvement.  I’m glad I had the chance to do a technically challenging hard race before Nationals where I’ll be dealing with twice as many rocks.  And hey, it’s the Grinder – it’s my “home” race, the only time where I feel the home course advantage!  Wyoming gals swept the advanced women podium, too!

This has me primed and excited for the Laramie MTB Series, which starts in a few weeks.  It feels like I haven’t raced much this year, but I’m liking the feeling.  This time last year I had peaked, so I am hoping I just continue my momentum in a forward fashion this year

towards Nationals!  Now to recover for a day, race short track on Tuesday night, and journey to CO Springs for a USAC race on Wednesday night for all important “points” towards my Cat 1 upgrade!

Things are coming full circle, and I started to realize my race reports will need the year in them to make sense… but indeed, I toed the line for this year’s rendition of Battle the Bear, once again using it as my proving grounds for endurance.  RME switched up the categories this year, and the cross country categories now equal what the “half marathon” categories did last year distance wise.  I had been toying with the idea of doing the 30 mile race since the venue is non-technical and speedy.  Last year I put on my big girl panties and did the 20 mile race (first time racing over 11 miles), so I guess it’d only be natural if this year I did the 30 mile “XC” race.

One of the reasons I bought my S-Works Fate was for this race… it just screams for a hard tail since there is literally nothing technical about the course and is pretty much as smooth as single track can get.  With a new spoke and brand new rear derailleur on it from the Fruita destruction, I also decided to go tubeless.  I’ve always been a fan of tubes, and have actually never had a flat while mountain biking (only two flats occurred AFTER racing at Bear Creek Lake Park).  I’ve known my fair share of people who flat with tubeless, which added to my love of tubes.  But alas, Bear Creek Lake Park is filled to the brim with goat heads and I didn’t feel like risking another crappy race with a mechanical over those stupid thorny weeds.  Out came the tubes, in went the Stans.

The weather was pretty hot, over 80 degrees at the 1pm start.  RME races are different in that there are no ability level categories aside from pro, and it’s just all about age groups.  So it can lead to some stiff competition and a wide range of abilities at the starting line.  HOLY CRAP that start was fast!  All I could think was “is this a World Cup?” and “Umm, this is a 30 mile race, not 5 miles…” Usually I am an extremely fast starter, to my fault, and I couldn’t even keep up with some of those gals as we roared up the pavement and onto the starting loop.  I felt redlined from the start and I kept telling myself that there’s no way I could sustain this pace for long, given the length of the race (I’ve never raced over 22 miles before…).  Yet I stayed on the throttle, trying to keep up with those in front of me, and trying to get around the tail end of the men’s XC groups the best I could.

The trail through the creek bed that was under about 20 feet of water during the September floods was dry and powdery, which made for zero visibility and loveliness for the lungs.  I hit the creek crossing at about 20mph or so and have never heard a front shock bottom out so badly, which scared the crap out of me (I’ve had it with broken bikes for the year!).  Yet I stayed on it, within sight of gals in front of me.  We had a speedy downhill pavement stretch that bypassed some flood damaged trails before popping up onto a long gravel road hill grind.  My heart rate still wasn’t coming out of the high 180s and 190s during all of this, which made me uncomfortable.  But I felt good, and the descents off the few kicker of climbs made me pleased as I could tell I was descending faster than last year, and more confidently.

The Mt Carbon climb is the longest sustained climb of the course, but it undulates in a manner that allows it to not be a grind.  I ended up climbing it a minute faster than last year on my first lap, woohoo!  Once on the top of that, it’s a long descent down (and super fast), and back around to the finish chute/pits.  I had decided to go with one bottle of the bike and one in my jersey with no Camelbak.  I stuffed my jersey full of Honey Stinger Waffles and had Honey Stinger chews stuck down my top tube.  So I grabbed a drink when I could and pulled off a chew or two.

A little ways into the 2nd lap I was pretty much riding by myself, only getting caught by two girls in my age group about a third of the way in (which meant I had been sitting in 3rd, whoa!).  Occasionally I would pass a XC man, or they would pass me.  It was just hot and lonely.  About the time I got passed I had the most painful and awkward pain set into my left big toe.  It was deep in the joint, not toenail related.  It made standing painful, and some pedaling.  Strangest thing ever, but I tried blocking it out the best I could and utter swear words when it got really bad.  I could feel my pace slowing, but kept on the throttle the best I could.  Of course I had those occasion thoughts of “oh just quit, you already have XX miles in” but they weren’t too strong.

Came around for my third and final lap.  Someone offered me a bottle hand up but I declined.  I knew I wasn’t drinking enough, but a new bottle wouldn’t solve that.  By then my pace had slowed down a lot and it was more about survival more than anything.  I made sure to finish off the rest of my chews on this lap, and finally started in on my second bottle.  The climbs felt like torture, and the big toe pain came and went in intensity, but always remained a dull ache.  This time around the Mt Carbon climb felt like it lasted forever, and I grinded up it in my granny gears.  Getting to the summit was one of the biggest reliefs I had ever felt in my life, as I knew it was all downhill to the finish, except for a tiny little climb.  On this tiny little climb a guy caught me and as my bike misshifted I apologized and he goes “No worries, we’re on the home stretch!”  We rolled into the finishing chute and I wasn’t planning on sprinting against him, and by golly there he takes me by surprised so I tried to sprint and catch up to him… he got me, but made for a fun finish!

2 hours 33 minutes 51 seconds was my official time, 31.1 miles total.  This placed me 5th in my 30-39 age category (in a field of 10).  Whoa!  So pleased, and I had no idea that I was that far up in the group, as it felt like I was one of the last off the course!  Pleasantly surprised, and once again happy that I pushed myself to do the longer 30 mile race.  And I had my first mountain bike race finish of 2014, and the bike stayed in one piece!  Even better, no goat heads (not sure how I pulled that one off) and no flat tires!  Maybe tubeless isn’t so bad!

Upon getting off the bike to chat with some friends I realized I couldn’t put pressure on my toe.  I was hobbling around, my face contorting in pain (I don’t think I’m a pain weenie, but holy crap… this hurt).  Hot, extremely dirty, rocking an awesome dust unibrow, and tired, I climbed on my bike and rode the 1.5 miles back to my car.  I took off my bike shoes, and it felt like my whole toe was stiff and cramped up.  It continued to hurt the rest of the night, but I was so tired I couldn’t really care.  I was asleep by 9pm with hopes I’d be fresher in the morning for the Koppenberg Road Race.  (Toe was fine the next day…)

And that is that… another Battle the Bear in the books!  Can’t say I’m jumping at the bit to do the “marathon” 50 mile race next year, so don’t worry about that!  But I am happy I gave the 30 miles a try, and I think it went okay considering how pegged I was on the first lap trying to keep up with the front of the pack.  As a result, I do think I blew myself up, especially for the final lap.  I don’t think my body is prepared to go that hard over that sort of distance, so it’ll be something to work on in the future if I decide to do some longer races.

After playing in the dirt as a mountain biker the previous day at Battle the Bear, I just had to turn around and play mountain biker on a road bike at The Koppenberg, a circuit road race in the Boulder-ish area that is about half-ish dirt with an awesome, made for a mountain biker ~15% climb.  I remember wanting to do this event last year, but I think it fell on the same day as Battle the Bear due to weather, plus I was a little bit more nervous about playing roadie last year.  Since race timing worked out for this year, back to back it would be. I really had no idea what to expect from my body after the Battle the Bear effort, heat, probable dehydration, and not sleeping in my own bed.  After picking up McDonald’s for breakfast, I kinda putzed around getting ready, not really wanting to make the effort of climbing on the bike for the fear my legs would go OH HELLLLL NO at me before the race even started.  So I eavesdropped in on amusing roadie conversations about “punchy dirt climbs” and how they were suppose to ride up it, took instagram photos, and well, sat around.  Finally at about 7:30am I hopped on the bike and tooled around Target parking lot.  Surprise surprise, my legs were content.

Soon enough it was time to line up.  Someone started in on “everyone, let’s give each other lots of room on the climb, we’ve crashed enough this year.”  Hmmm… I had switched to SPD pedals and my mountain bike shoes for this reason, and the ‘cross racer was ready to come out at a moment’s notice.  Which I actually love my SPD pedals on my road bike as I didn’t have to fumble with the clumsy Look Keo pedals at the start, and I clipped in without thinking, which wasn’t the same for the person in front of me.  Doh.  But we all got rolling, and I chose a spot on the right hand side with an easy out if needed.  The course turns to gravel fairly quickly, and I was happy with my line choice as it seemed to be one of the smoother options.  I stayed with the upper front of the pack until the climb, naturally. So the Koppenberg climb… well, I like it.  LIKE IT.  Yes, I just admitted to that.  And well, it wasn’t as bad as the general opinion makes it out to be.  I happily sat and spun it out, thankful I was in the middle line and wasn’t behind the girl that went down next to me.  I got to the top and remembered thinking “That was it?  Sheesh, the climbs yesterday were way tougher.”  Then I remembered I was being the obnoxious mountain biker that I am, and not everyone mountain bikes so I needed to shut up…

The pack split, and Michelle, Amber, myself, and two other gals formed a pack for the insanely speedy pavement back to the start.  This worked out nicely, and we rolled through the start to start our second lap.  Once again the gravel went smoothly and we hit the climb.  I took the lead on this, though everyone was right on my butt.  My Favorite Cycling Photog Ever, Shawn, cheered me on which made me happy.  Not as fast as my first time up it, but still decent.  Once again down the speedy pavement, and back through the start.

I was struggling and kept falling off the back of the pack, but would manage to bring it back in, especially on the gravel.  Michelle unfortunately flatted shortly before our final climb up the hill.  This was the time my legs went “OK, we’ve had enough, b*tch.”  I spat out the back on the top of the climb, and struggled to recover on the top and make my legs pick up the cadence.  Luckily I had the speedy stretch of downhill to recover and soft pedal a bit.  I looked over my shoulder and knew I had a large gap as long as I maintained some sort of effort.  Naturally, my legs responded strongly at the end (thanks legs, could’ve used that on top of the climb…), and I rolled across the finish line in 49 minutes 33 seconds, good enough for 14th in the field of 27 in women’s cat 4. Not too shabby, eh!?  I think I’m finally getting the hang of this road racing business, and Koppenberg is just about the awesomest road race ever!  I wish they were all like this… but maybe all gravel/dirt and with more climbs like that… (oh wait, that’s called a mountain bike race… whoops… or a gravel grinder…)  Definitely will return for this one in the years to come!  And well… I think my road race “season” has finally wound down… just a lot of crits on the calendar, which we’ve established I won’t do.  There’s a hill climb I’m eying, but I’m reminding myself that I can’t burn myself out by mid-June like last year.  So we shall see… there’s a few local Cheyenne time trials here and there I might make an appearance at I suppose… Yay for Koppenberg!

Oh Rumble at 18 Road… thanks for proving to me for the second year in a row that you’re just not the race for me…

The positives:

• I had the fitness this year.  I was 3rd overall among all ages of Cat 2 women at the 5 mile mark
• I handle wet rocks with ease
• I handle greasy mud with ease
• My legs showed up and did everything I asked them to

The negatives:

• The entire 18 Road area turns into a thick peanut butter clay when wet
• Said peanut butter clay does not play nicely with rear derailleurs
• I sent my rear derailleur into the spokes at the 5 mile mark… you know, when I was in a podium spot
• I didn’t finish 😦

Haha, oh man… what a day.  It rained all night and it was still raining in the morning, problem #1!  Pre-ride on Friday was hot (80 degrees) and bone dry.  I managed to tie my race time last year with my pre-ride time which included stopping because I couldn’t breathe and giving a go or two on a techy feature, so that was promising. The two-track felt like a cow pasture and was in horrible condition, and I began doubting the idea to bring the Fate, but I was stuck with it.  Come race day… I was too busy chatting and got to my start with 10 seconds to spare.  Starting from the back row I swiftly moved up to the front area, and noticed it was my climbing fitness that helped with this.  The two track heading out was pretty greasy, but not too bad, it wasn’t really gumming up the bikes.  It wasn’t until the Prime Cut single track that the peanut butter started to come out and play.  The rocks were slippery, but I used this to my advantage to distance myself.  My bike started to make all sorts of sounds, but it wasn’t until the end of Prime Cut when we all hit a field of peanut butter that things got so gummed up the derailleur said “I’m out of here” and curled up into a little ball in my spokes.  I’m pretty sure I said a choice word, but like so many others that I passed, I turned around and starting pushing my bike back down the trail (it was wayyyy too heavy to try to carry).  It was weird.  Like… I was pissed that I couldn’t finish the race because I was doing well, but what happened happened and I accepted that.  I’ve never had a mechanical during a race, so I suppose it was a matter of time.  Luckily after a few miles I ran into my friend Pete and we headed to a gravel rode to hitched a ride back to the start.  2 others in my age group didn’t finish, and the finishers took 90 minutes to 2 hours… it’s normally a 55-60 minute race!  Funny enough, USAC isn’t listing the DNF’s, so it looks like not too many people came out to race.  Man, I don’t even get my DNF for Trying.

Year 2 at Rumble at 18 Road, and though I was actually racing well unlike last year, I’m getting a little discouraged about this race! It’s hard, because there’s very little USAC racing to choose from in this region, and I’m not a baller that can go to California or Texas or where ever for those sanctioned races.  Luckily I heard some good news about the push to bring national level racing and courses to Wyoming, so I’m hopeful that it’ll be easier to race USAC when I’m a Cat 1.  Luckily I think USAC takes pity on us in this area and considers non-sanctioned results when requesting an upgrade… because one out of my two local chances was gone with my derailleur!

The rain and lack of bike also meant I couldn’t stick around and ride a bit more at Kokopelli like I had planned 😦  Luckily Mellissa and Pete were awesome enough to loan me their hotel shower (ok ok, I demanded it :P) after we washed the bikes at the car wash, and then we headed out for some Hot Tomato.  And that was that… Now I get to be jealous of all my buddies that raced at a dry Ridgeline Rampage today down in Castle Rock…

Anthony got sent photos of my derailleur (which I think I “fixed,” aka it means I got my wheel moving again), and he thinks just the cage needs replaced.  The hanger is actually still intact.  And of course I need a new spoke, and who knows what else… the bike is very grouchy at the moment!

Good news is Gowdy is nearly all dry, so Grinder training can begin (and the Epic is the ride of choice for that anyway)!  In Two weeks I plan on doing RME Battle the Bear, and GASP!  I might go tubeless to avoid those goat heads, so here’s to hoping I have a good race in two weeks and break more PRs and that the Fate is all nice and happy again!

2014 continues to be the “road season that surprises me.”  I’ve never made any qualms about my lack of roadie-ness and that I’m just not strong on the pavement.  So hesitantly I signed up for the CSU Cobb Lake Circuit Race.  One option for me – women’s open (which is every category, including pro) at 46.8 miles.  I rarely ride more than 20-30 miles when I road ride.  In fact, I’m pretty sure I can count the number of 40 mile plus rides I’ve done on any type of bike on two hands.  So I didn’t even know how to approach this race in any other manner but survival.

My friend Gretchen just bought a new road bike and eagerly said she’d join me for this race.  She’s never raced before.  To use my beloved term “cray cray,”… well, Gretchen is cray cray.  I would’ve never chose this for my first road race, no way.  So cray cray Gretchen and I loaded up my car and turned south for the race.  Luckily gorgeous weather had settled in for the weekend, which meant I turned my attention to adding to my tan lines above anything else!

32 ladies came out to race, which I do believe is the biggest women’s field this particular race has seen.  Three professional gals came out, including Amanda Miller, along with a host of other cat 1/2’s.  Which is not the best thing being a bottom of the pack cat 4 type of racer.  I think mountain biking may be the only time I can get excited about lining up next to a pro.  For a road race it just makes me feel that much worse.  I joked with Gretchen and Deb and a few others about how we’ll all hang out in the back and have our own race.  But ugh… you know me.  Race mode cannot be turned off so when the whistle went, I went.  Lead pack.  Woo woo… for 5 miles that is.  At least I can say I hung with Amanda Miller for 5 miles, right?

So then begun my 41 mile ride by myself.  Which is fine.  I ride/train/race by myself 99% of the time.  I know how to handle wind by myself.  What’s new?  But this time it felt different and I actually managed to… well, race the race.  The circuit consisted of a curvy road through a gated community, and then a speedy downhill and straight away with a tailwind, onto 2 miles of washboard gravel, and up a climb back to the start.  Half bad, half good/fast.  It was a good combination!  I managed to pick off one other racer, so I never lost a position once the lead pack dropped me.  Little victories matter, I tell you!

I felt strong right up until the last (6th) lap begun.  Then my legs said WTF very loudly.  That final climb to the finish was killer… Also didn’t help the Men 4/5 had swarmed the finish/start line and wouldn’t move out of my damn way.  Which wasn’t as bad as getting lapped by the Men’s Pro/1/2 field (um, hi… knocking me off my bike and killing me is in no way going to make you win faster.  Collegiate race in Colorado is not the Tour de France, chill with the sketchy passing!), but still frustrating as I was trying to “sprint” to my solo finish, haha.

But yeah, I finished all 6 laps.  And I wasn’t last place (I finished 23rd thank you very much!).  I didn’t think I could hold that pace for as long as I did, so I’m amazed.  Hence the road season that keeps surprising.  Not like I’m good, I’m still bottom of the pack, but I’m not doing as badly as I think I would!  And as soon as it began, it’s pretty much over.  Mountain bike season start in 3 weeks, so that’s what will fill my weekends until August.  Not to mention that crits pretty much take over the road race calendar, and after today’s CSU Oval Crit, I have no desire to ever toe the lines for one of those again (at least now I have proof mountain bike racing is far saner and safer than crit racing, I’m not just talking out my butt on this one!).  Maybe the Koppenberg and Superior Mogul will make an appearance, but otherwise I’m sure it’s over.  It’s been fun, road racing, but time for the dirt!

(Gretchen had a good race, too!  She got pulled after 5 laps, but she was smiling and eager to do more races!  Go Gretchen!)

Oh, the CSU Oval Crit you say?  Sure, another bad idea brought to you by yours truly, Heidi.  Second lap all I see are bikes going through the air and girls everywhere.  I managed to avoid that by pure luck I believe.  So I decided to just drop myself and ride by myself wayyyyy off in the back (plus I was too slow to keep up, haha).  Until Tim our Friendly USAC Official made us all regroup. Ugh, back in the pack.  So we start doing neutral laps just to stay warm, and another girl gets taken out by a girl who decided to ride straight when everyone else was turning.  Seriously?!  So we FINALLY regroup for the second time to start the last 5 laps.  And like 3 near misses occur.  My conclusion?  That was my first and last crit.  End of story.  I survived, no crashes, but I don’t need that experience again because I really want that MTB Cat 1 upgrade this summer above racing crits.  Priorities, yo.  At least it was 70 degrees and gorgeous out and I got to meet up with some old teammates and friends.  Not all was lost!

(Apparently some are appalled about my hatred of crits and my negativity towards them.  Like I said, I have my racing priorities and goals, and they’re too important to be sacrificed by something inherently more risky for really little reward for me in the over all scheme.  Yes, I get that I could be injured in a mountain bike race between now and Nationals/Cat 1 upgrade time, or in a training road ride, but I can handle that risk as it’s directly doing something that is a step to get to the final goal.  Props to the racers that go back out weekend after weekend to crits.  Scary stuff, but it’s just not for me.  Much like mountain bike racing isn’t for most of them.  Got mad respect, but a strong personal dislike of crits… just how I see it!)

On a final note, I really am loving my SRAM Force 22 group set!  Definitely helps having harder gears to push, and the shifting is so smooth!  Definitely worth the upgrade me thinks!

As the freezing rain driven by decently crappy winds pelted my face, all I could think is “why the hell do I pay money to do this?!”

Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so eager to hit the pre-register button for races, especially races held in the notoriously crappy weather months of March and April (and hell May, too).  But alas, I was registered for the CU Cycling Candelas Circuit Race, so I wasn’t about to let another $30 go to waste like happened with Frostbite.  I awoke in Cheyenne to several inches of snow and wind and cold temperatures, but reports that the race was still on (major props to the University of Colorado cycling team for their great communication about the event and conditions!  I wish all promoters were that consciousness of their racers!)

Started the drive down to Arvada, CO, and the weather wasn’t improving.  Pulled into the Candelas development and it was freezing rain/snow combo blowing sideways and the car said 28 degrees.  Roads were wet and I heard a male racer who had just finished talking about his brakes being frozen.  So what does this girl do?  Get her race number and pile on the clothes!  Felt like I was preparing for a winter cross race more than a road race.  I said screw it to warming up and just sat in my car until 15 minutes to go, when I rode over to the clubhouse that everyone was using as a warming hut and met up with the fellow 4 girls I’d be racing against in the Women 3/4 class.

I knew the race would be survival instead of going for a good result.  Right from the start I was dropped because my left pedal had iced up and I couldn’t clip in right away.  I sprinted and caught up with the group, only to spin off the back shortly into the climb.  This circuit race was mostly just one big hill repeat interval ride.  I was pretty impressed by the climb – Amber was not joking when she described it to me!  So I just tooled along, off the back.  I had my SRAM Force 22 group set installed last night onto the Ruby, and the gearing was noticeably harder than my old SRAM Apex (which was – blonde moment – not something I realized was going to happen when I got that group set, I was thinking 11 gears = easier granny one.  Not the case.  Ugh).

At the top of the hill we turned around and headed back down what would be an insanely awesome descent if it wasn’t wet.  I haven’t done really any descended at speed on wet roads, so I didn’t want to go too crazy.  I caught the 4th place girl at the bottom, but as we headed up for a second time she dropped me again.  So I pedaled up the hill, got to the top and realized I only had my granny gear.  Neither front or rear derailleur would budge.  Le sigh.  I unclipped my right foot and kicked at the rear derailleur (much to my worry… dammit, it’s brand new!) and managed to deice it enough to get a few harder gears.  Came to the turn around and realized I had frozen brakes.  Down the descent I granny pedaled.  4th place was off to the side trying to unthaw her drivetrain so I did manage to pass her.

Of course up the hill for the 3rd time she caught up and dropped me.  The whole race ideas of dropping out where in my head, and I tried hard to ignore my wet, frozen toes, and absolutely numb rear end.  I mean, who does this stuff?  My Garmin was reading 27 degrees, I heard the wind chill made it about 10 degrees, and it was sleeting.  I actually had a reason to wear my lobster claws… in a race that wasn’t cyclocross.  That’s not a good sign.  My bike was a frozen pile of muddy ice with only one working gear (that thankful/unthankfully was the easiest) and not really any brakes.  But I still pedaled up, and spun at like a cadence of 200 in my granny gear to the turn around and back down.  I had to coast the whole way, trying to make myself as small as possible against the icy headwind with no gear that could turn and sustain the 20-30mph speeds.  The Men 4/5 leaders had lapped me, so all I could hope for is that I’d be pulled and not sent on a 4th lap.  I rounded the corner into the finishing stretch, and someone told me to keep up with my smile.  I wasn’t smiling because I was necessarily happy, but more because I couldn’t believe sane people actually come out and do this stuff.  We’re all cray cray in the head…

And then it was over.  I finished down a lap, but I finished.  I coasted to a stop, jamming my foot into the curb to stop me from running into the officials.  I loudly announced I had a frost bit butt and headed to my car.  I felt relief as I started the car and turned on the seat warmers and frantically started stripping out of my soaking wet tights, legs warmers, jersey, jacket, base layer, cap, Buff, shoe covers, gloves, and shoes.

Today was about not giving up.  I could’ve woke up this morning, saw the snow in Cheyenne and went back to bed.  But I didn’t.  I could’ve turned around when I pulled into Candelas and saw the wet roads and sleet.  But I didn’t.  I could’ve called it quits after the girls dropped me soon into the race.  But I didn’t.  I surely could’ve coasted back to the car with no gears and brakes after the second lap.  But I didn’t.  I could’ve resisted announcing to Tim the USA Cycling official that my butt was frozen.  But I… didn’t do that.  LOL.  Life is such a mental game.  The mind gives up far before our bodies do.  And my mind is the biggest hurdle I face on the bike.  Just look at my bilat workouts on the trainer.  Look at the failed Laramie Enduro attempt.  My body wasn’t toast, aside from the achy knee.  But my mind, well, it was over it.

Could I have had a better result today?  Of course.  Having no hard gears to push on the descent cost me time and let my competitors get away from me.  You can’t prevent mechanical issues, especially when it involves half an inch of ice coating everything.  I wasn’t the first nor last person who came up short because of a frozen bike today.  But other than that, I am completely satisfied on how today went.  I resisted taking the easy road and just giving up.  At this moment in time, that means more to me than what is listed on my USAC results list.  This season NEEDS to be about savoring the moments, savoring the pain, pushing their the pain, and appreciating every moment that I am able to pin on a race number, tear myself apart on a bicycle, and live to say “why do I pay money for this again?  When’s the next race?!”  If I don’t have that… well, it’s not going to be a pretty season.

AKA the Carter Lake Road Race.  AKA the first road race of the season.  AKA here’s to racing until next January.

I can’t ignore a road race practically in my “backyard” and on an awesome course that I am familiar with riding, and have been wanting to attack since my ill-fated group ride in November 2012 that left me feeling like the slowest non-roadie in the world.  So begun the obsessive weather.com checking and hoping that the weather would hold out for an unusually early start to the road season in a climate where winter lasts until May.

On the race numbers went, and after a mile long warmup that consisted of me chasing and drafting off my teammates, I lined up.  It was nice to hear people joking about not going all out like in cyclocross, and hearing others say it was their first race.  I still feel like such a noob at road events, so it’s nice to know I’m not alone and that for the most part people are friendly in the Senior Women 4 (SW4) category.

My biggest concerns was hanging with the peloton until the switchback climbs to conserve energy on the gradual climb leading up to them.  But pack riding scares the crap out of me… a friend gave me pointers, saying to stick to the left side which means I’d have an out even if it was a centerline violation, and to be patient.  Needless to say, I heeded the advice and had a very good peloton experience!  I found myself fluidly moving through the pack forward and backward, but never off the end!  I had a few close calls with cones, but escaped unharmed, and heck, I even went around corners just fine!  Whew, maybe somehow I figured this stuff out?! (I think ‘cross helped a lot.)

We stayed together as a field of 30 until the switchback climbs and then it was on.  I had switched the wheels on my Ruby to Mavic Ksyrium Elites, which are a lot lighter and aero than my stock wheels, and I’m not sure if it was them or the training or excitement or both, but those switchbacks just few by!  I happily spun a few gears down from granny at a high cadence seated and made a lot of passes.  I felt strong and the legs felt good, and I was already celebrating nailing the biggest climb of the 17-mile race, which was my goal.  I even switched back into the big ring before the top and prepared to nail the high speed sprint across the Carter Lake dams.  I found myself closing the gap on a few girls and we rotated through working together.  We reeled in another two girls to add to our group.  Shawn, my favoritest race photog in the world, was yelling at me “close the gap!!” which made me smile because I would’ve never thought I’d ever be closing any gap in a road race!

We stayed together as a group or 6 or 8 until the big steep descent off the north side of the lake.  Now y’all, I’m a scaredy cat descender on the road, and it’s only lately that I’ve tried to exhibit some confidence (going back to 42 bars from 38 also helped with bike control).  The winds were surprisingly calm for this time of year, so I knew that wind shouldn’t factor in.  The descent does curve and has grades of like -15%, and the corners were what were scaring me but I finally let off the brakes and let the bike do what it wanted.  I didn’t want to lose ground because of nerves on a hill, so I ignored my Garmin and tried to breathe calmly.  (I ended up topping out at 47mph!)

The group was splintered at this point so once again I gave chase and closed the gap on two girls on the Pole Hill descent.  I ended up just kinda flying past them, and came into the corner to turn onto the Hog’s Back kinda hot.  Take about understeer if I was driving a race car, LOL!  I managed to not cross any center lines and set off on the torturous gradual climb up the Hog’s Back.  Amber from The Cyclist Lawyer Team finally came up to my side and said we should work together to stay ahead of the girls behind us, and we took turns doing pulls.  Amber from Primal Racing caught us right before the feed zone.  Which is where I decided to fail at grabbing a bottle twice.  I just wanted a new bottle, darn it!  That failure aside, I worked to catch the Ambers before we dropped over the crest of the hill.

And what the heck, I could see the tents of the finish!  The end was sooner than I was expecting!  It was a downhill so we were flying, and I (stupidly) jumped in the front and then realized that those two were drafting off me, making me use my energy coming to the final sprint.  I tried to shake them, but my legs were screaming, so I channeled the Jensie and kept repeating “SHUT UP LEGS” in my head over and over and over.  I’ve had fairly good success with final sprints in past races, but those were usually mountain bike/cross races where people aren’t necessarily sprinters at all (and you’re not coming in super high speed on a downhill finish with no gears left to go harder).  We flew past the 1 kilometer sign and I was pegged.  Amber from Primal started coming around and I was like “oh hell no” and just forced the legs to keep going.

Her and I crossed the finish line at 34mph according to my Garmin, and I won the sprint by 0.08 seconds (or a few inches of a bike wheel according to people who saw it).  WHEW!  What a damn good race!  High fives all around amongst the Ambers and I and I celebrated what I felt like was my first true road race effort.  I went out there with the intention of racing it, not hanging in the back to avoid the pack.  And dammit, I raced it!  I finished 13th out of 30.  Sure beats that DNF I had at Deer Trail last spring!

So I learned…
1) Good wheels are worth it.  Way worth it.  That climb felt effortless.
2) Training actually works.  My coach may be trying to kill me, but the races at least won’t kill me as much
3) Don’t go for the water bottles, it’s not worth it
4) Trust the peloton.  Nobody really has a death wish.
5) Wear shoe covers when it’s 40 degrees.  Numb feet for half a race sucks.
6) Short road races are my thing.  No way would’ve this awesomeness happened if it was 40 miles long.  Which makes crits all that more intriguing to try.

Garmin stats:
1) Average speed 18.1mph
2) Max speed 47.2mph
3) Average heart rate 177
4) Max heart rate 199 (happened at the finish line)
5) Total time: 53:55.34
6) Estimated average power: 209 (sure felt like it, as that is a bit above my FTP)

Next up is the Frostbite Time Trial next weekend.