E-Rock Race Report

On Saturday night, I didn't want to do this tour. On Sunday morning at 4:15am, I wanted to do it even less. It was a cold morning. I was tired. I was unprepared. I haven't spent significant time on the bike, and my last and longest ride was the previous Sunday when I went 30 miles.

This tour was 62 miles.

My poor poor buttisimo.

As I was eating breakfast, I was actually thinking about how I could get out of it. I could lay down on the couch and pretend like I fell back to sleep. I could "accidentally" forget my helmet or my shoes.

Instead, I left. At the last minute, I grabbed my heavier cycling jacket. What a good move.

When I got to the tour, the temperature was 42 degrees. We all know that I'm not a cold weather rider. 42 standing still is ok. 42 on a bike....not.so.good.

My start time was 6:00am. I still didn't want to go as I sit in the car.

Eventually, I got out of the car,put my wheel on, and head to the start. I looked around at everyone. The sky was starting to get lighter, but we wouldn't feel it for quite awhile with the hills.

Then we started. Sometimes there are races that I don't want to do, but once I start, I'm ok.

This was NOT that kind of race.

The first 34 miles are uphill....roughly....there are some minor downhills. There were some areas that felt pretty flat, but it's mostly a 34 mile climb.

Until the first rest stop, I kept trying to figure out how to get out of this thing. Where's the sag wagon? If I turn around here could I figure out how to get back.

The only thing keeping me on task was knowing that I'd have to pass all those cyclists behind me....the true walk...or ride of shame.

That, as unhonourable as it was, was the only reason that I kept plugging on.

After awhile, I thought "Just get to the first aid station. Have a snack and see how you feel."

Keep in mind, my legs felt fine, I was holding a good pace, and everything was physically ok with me.

I just didn't want to be there.

At the first aid station, I hopped off. My toes were numb from the cold. I looked around at everyone. The other cyclists were having a good time. I started thinking that maybe I should just do what I can. I knew that I was undertrained, but just maybe I could go out and have fun. I didn't really know how far I could make it, but just try it.

When I got back on the bike, I felt really good. Unlike last year, where teams kept passing me and I often found myself alone except for one or two people ahead or behind me a few miles, this year I was always in the middle of a pack of quite a few cyclists. At any time, there were hundreds of people ahead of me, and hundreds behind me. I always had people around me.

I can't tell you what a huge difference that makes when you are doing a tough climb.

The next aid station was at the highest point. And, there are very tough, short, steep climbs. I really prefer the slow climbs to those steep ones.

But, I had people around me. We were all panting, sweating, talking (when possible), joking about how long this tour is going to take us.

During the first 20 miles, I kept cursing myself. The 2nd 20 miles, I realized how much stronger I've gotten over a year's time. Even being underprepared, I didn't stop until I hit an aid station. (Last year, I stopped several times). My nutrition was perfect this year. (Last year, not so much). This year, I managed to pass people on climbs: not alot, and I was still passed myself, but somehow, I managed to get better over the year.

When I started, I was mad because I kept thinking "When is this tour going to be easy for me?"

That's when I realized that it will never be easy. As we all get in better shape, as we all learn to climb hills better, it will never get easier. The only difference is that I will be faster, year to year. I don't do this tour because some day it will be a piece of cake. I do this tour because each year I see how much progress I've made over the previous year. It's not much year to year, but it adds up to alot over the course of years.

As I continued up the hill, I started really focusing on the other cyclists. I saw a pack of 20 Iraq Veterans. Half of them were missing one leg. 4 more were missing both legs. One amazing man was missing almost both complete legs. I looked at his artificial legs, trying to figure out how they worked. How did he do it? How with not more than a couple of inches, HOW does he do this?

There were a number of people who caught my attention from amazing cyclists to triathletes, to transplant recipients to the 13 year old (who once again kicked my butt--probably the same kid from last year). Of course, there were a couple of jerks, but they were few and far between. You'll find those people at every sport, regardless of your sport.

What I think about now, is that we were all out there, difference sizes, shapes, gender, abilities, and we all had our own stories about why we were there. For one day, we were all in it together. Encouraging each other, making each other laugh.

As I approached the last aid station, at 45 miles, I was starting to feel my lack of training. My butt was starting to hurt. It was manageable though. My inner thighs were really starting to burn. I took a little longer rest. I knew that I had 6-7 miles of serious climbing. As it stood, I wasn't quite sure that I was going to be able to do it. This was being realistic, not negative.

Still, I opted to press on. With fewer than 20 miles left, I decided that I would have to have significant problems for me to NOT finish. I stood there thinking for a minute, when the guy with the yellow cycling outfit (Who I don't recall seeing prior to this) yelled at me, "Are you coming? We're leaving".

I had to shake my head, when he turned and the back of his jersey read in big black letters: "Pitts". (Few people will understand this reference).

no.way. That's just not possible. I could only laugh at the coincidence.

The next 6-7 miles were hard, but not as hard as I remember them. In fact, they were easier than the map even showed.

I remember this section from last year. I remember getting to the top and my legs were just dead. I had nothing left.

This year, I climbed, and when I got to the top....I thought "Hey, that wasn't too bad. I wouldn't want to do it again, but that wasn't too bad."

I looked around. I realized that I was still with about 20 people that I started with. I thought for sure, they would have dropped me, but they didn't and we stayed together.

I think I have finally become an "average" cyclist.

At the top of the hill, I stopped for just a moment to look down the hill that I just climbed. I saw hundreds ofpeople making their way to the top, snaking their way through the hills.

I don't think I've ever felt so good about being average....a C student if you will.

At the finish, there were hundreds of people lining the mile heading into the finishing shoot. If I didn't know better, I would have thought I won the race the way they were cheering.

I might not have "won", but it certainly was a win for me.

Do you doubt what you can do?

At the pool today, I met a woman.

She is training for her very first triathlon.

She just bought her first wetsuit.

Two weeks ago, she bought her first bike.

The furthest she's ever run is 1 mile.

We talked for about 30 minutes. I answered as many questions as possible.

She's excited and nervous.

Her goal is to finish the sprint before the sun goes down.

Did I mention that she's 73?

It's that time

Remember all my whining about not being prepared for this tour?

Remember all the back and forth of "oh, poor me, which race do I do?"

Well.

I'm a big fat baby.

I looked at the map after picking up my supercool packet.

The 62 mile route doesn't even get to go through Black Forest.

We don't even get to ride Roller Coaster Road.

So, I still get to climb up through the Palmer divide.....if I complain ONCE about being tired....or....wah.wah.wah....moan about how underprepared I am....I'm gonna...gonna...do SOMETHING.

62 miles.

I can ride 62 miles.

PUH-LEEZE.

Besides, there's BBQ at the finish!

Let the good times roll

Today was my 2nd bike outside, and my first out on the roads again.

I was nervous.

I didn't want to go. What if it's windy? What if there's alot of traffic? What if I get a flat and I don't have any spare tubes? What if I can't make it up the hills? What if I'm slower than last year? What if my butt hurts? What if I get tired?

Are you going to complain all day? Or are you going to get out there and ride?

I really don't want to go.

I kinda picked up on that. You don't have a choice.

But what if I have problems?

Lemme axe you somethin'...you're planning on doing Harvest Moon, correct?

Yes, but....

But nothing, you have THREE months to prepare for that bike route. THE bike route that kicked your butt more than ANY other race has done. If you don't get on that bike today, you might as well kiss your chance of a PR away.

ok, fine. But I'm not going to enjoy it if I feel pressured into doing this.

What pressure? You registered for this. You knew what it would take. Y'know what? You are just being LAZY.

That's not necessarily a fair statement, and I knew it. But I had no justification for why I didn't want to go except that it was "the unknown". First real ride of the season. I was nervous. After spending months on the trainer riding flats, I didn't know if I could climb.

And....climbing hurts. It's hard. It's tiring. The last real climbing I did was during Coeur D'Alene. So, my last experience on the bike....well, we can't really say it was a positive experience.

Still, Elephant Rock wasn't going to change dates just because I wasn't feeling prepared. I had to know what I'm going to be in for, next Sunday when I head out for 62 miles.

I grabbed two bottles, a bar, and I left. I was going to go for 2:00.

I'm a wimp when it comes to riding. The weather, while may be perfect for everyone else, is always "too cold" or "too windy" or "too hot", for me.

I couldn't use that excuse today. The sun was blocked by clouds. The temperature was perfect. There wasn't a wind to be felt, not even a breeze. I could honestly say it was perfect.

As I was riding, I thought about alot of things. I kept the pace easy, and I enjoyed the ride.

Eventually, another triathlete pulled up along side me. We chatted for a minute. I don't know why I did it, but I asked, "You don't happen to be training for Coeur D'Alene, do you?"

He had this look of complete shock and said, "Yea, I am." We shared stories for a few minutes. Then, he went on ahead.

I remembered this time, last year, a couple of weekends to "peak". That time, for me, was a weird time. It's a time of complete selfishness. It's a time that training literally became a part time job. It was a time where I could no longer think or see straight.

It was the only time in my life of racing where I never even doubted my ability to finish.

I started wondering why this is. Why I tend to doubt myself so often, when I have proved over and over that I can accomplish just about anything. We all have times when we'll miss a pr. But the track record shows that more often than not, I'll hit my goals. When I am consistent, realistic, and balanced, I will succeed more often than not.

And my success is determined by more than my finishing time.

Next week, I have Elephant Rock. This is a fun, low key, bike tour. I get to ride through Black Forest, the Palmer Divide, farmlands, down and around Colorado Springs, and up and down through the foothills. I get to eat peanut butter bagels, meet some great people along the way, and take pictures of some of the most beautiful areas in Colorado, which I will be sure to post.

Someone asked me how long it will take me. Why is it always about times? Why do people always want to know how fast I am? To me, it really doesn't matter. I remember last year when a peloton passed me like I was standing still. I remember yo-yo'ing with an older couple for 20 or 30 miles, and I remember focusing on the women in front of me using them as some kind of force to help me get to the next rest stop.

And it was one of the best days of the year.

I don't remember how long it took me to finish the century last year, but I remember the people, the party, the feeling of thinking "I DID IT!"

That's enough success for me.

Decision undone

In two weeks, I have a bike tour.

Here are the facts:

1.) I have been riding three times per week.

2.) The riding has been on my trainer.

Here are my concerns:

1.) My a$$ might not be ready for a longer ride.

2.) My legs might not be ready for any hills.

Here are some other things to think about:

1.) Do I really want to go on a 62 mile ride without really being prepared?

2.) Am I being too hard myself? Could I pull off the 62 without any outside riding? I also don't want to overstate my abilities. I'm not a very good cyclist. Although I've gotten better over the years, some the of the hills on this tour are really hard on me. There are a couple of very steep short climbs that are very tough.

3.) Look at the profiles, after 30 miles, the 62 mile ride becomes a (mostly) downhill.

4.) The difference in climbing is 1200ft. Is that that enough for me to say "Don't do it".

5.) The century and the 62 mile ride start out on the same route. I did the century last year and know the first half of the route. The 32 miler starts out a different direction, so it's a decision that I have to make prior to starting.

6.) The following weekend, I have a half marathon. Again, this one will not be for a PR. However, I will treat it more race-like in the sense that I am going to correct mistakes that I made in last week's race. Does this change my decision for the bike tour?

The decision:

I'm changing my previous decision of dropping down to the 34 miler. Instead, this week I'm going to get outside and ride some hills to see how I feel. If I do a shorter but still hilly ride and feel pretty good, I might try the longer ride.

If I ride outside and start cussing at the first larger hill, then I'll stick with the 34 miler.

If you have any opinions, either way, please let me know.

Feeling like a "regular" person

I made a resolution last year.

After the crazy number of hours that I spent training last year, I wanted to feel like a "regular person".

I wanted to wear clothes that are not made of dri-fit, water resistance, or worry if the material would cause any chafing. I wanted to wear shoes that were not retired running shoes and ride a bike that didn't even have clips.

I wanted to wash and dry and style my hair, not pull it up into a wet ponytail.

I wanted to wear a hat, not a visor not a cap.

I wanted to wear big FAT J-LO sunglasses, not Optic Nerve.

I wanted to meet people who have no interest in "training" for anything and have never heard of GU or knew what an M-dot was.

Over the past few months, I have met the most amazing people at my gym. A couple of them have been tri-athletes, but the ones who have become my friends are not. At first, I was "the woman who swims". Then one day they saw me putting on running shoes and asked, "Are you going to try to run?"

I've found it so much more fun to listen to their stories and to ask questions about their workouts than to talk about pace, mileage, or recent races.

As much fun as it was talking about my sport a few years ago, lately, I don't want to talk about it so much. I want to be a "regular" person. I want people to know that I have interests outside of triathlon. I want to spend my weekends doing things other than competing and training like crazy.

Today, I woke up before everyone, not because I set the alarm but just because I always seem to get up with the sun. I got my 2 hour ride in. As everyone else was waking up, I was putting my bike away. I showered and put on shorts, a regular shirt, my "walkabout" hat, J-LO sunglasses, and comfortable walking shoes.

Then, we all head down to a small pub in Denver for lunch. While we watched the rain pour down, we laughed and had a great time and great food. Afterwards, we head over to the Arts Festival where we walked around for 2 hours in the pouring rain, all the while joking around, examining the most amazing lifesize sculptures, and staring at amazement at what some people are capable of creating.

When it was all said and done, we went home and Mike made the best GI-NORMOUS plates of nachos, and we all sat down to watch a movie rental.

I can honestly say today was better than the best day of training.

thecrazynotmyfaultdecisionthathadtobemade

The crazy-not-my-fault-decision-that-had-to-be-made.....

On June-something (1st weekend of june), I have my first bike race of the season.

UGH.

Every year, I do this race. Every year, I love it. Last year, I did the century. I paid for it out my butt. Literally. With tons o'climbing, I'm pretty sure THIS race made me prepared for Coeur D'Alene....um ok, BAD example.

This year, I haven't been able to ride outside. Every weekend has been rainy or snowy or in some cases, dangerously windy. Yea, I'll run in anything. But riding in bad conditions? Well, that's just plain stupid.

And at best, I'm a weak to moderately-weak cyclist.

And I've had enough stupid in my life.

After giving it some thought, I'm not in good enough shape to do the 65 mile ride. Not with the climbing. If it were flat, hell, I'd say go for it. But being miserable and 30 some odd miles from a finish, and knowing that it would take me hours to finish....call me a wimp....but it just doesn't sound appealing.


Of course, I have time to think about it, to change my mind again, to back out, wimp out, and then whine about, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to back down to the shorter race of 35miles.

I'm glad I got that off my chest.

Next up, what I've been doing this week....

nothing

nada

had some ice cream last night

Each year is different, but I have noticed a trend in my training. (To think, it only took me 25 or so years....call me a quick learner). Once I hit 14-16 weeks of solid training, I like to take some time off.

This week it was 3 full days.

It was so nice. Three complete days of rest, then I did a 30 min easy run today. I was thinking of swimming also when I thought "what's the rush?" do it tomorrow. So, that's what I'm doing.


My ow swim access opened.

The temp is 51 degrees.

Good thing I opted to keep the winter fat.