628 Challenge

There are no words....for now at least. Haven't gotten around to the write-up but thought I could at least post the pics for now. Answer me this...Who had the most fun out there that day? We KNOW it wasn't Wurster!

"Who wants to see the trip tic?"

Photo Evidence!!!

I really wouldn't believe it myself if I didn't see the photos to prove I was really there. This past Saturday I woke up and went to do a "Fun Run" at Ringwood. Who calls a 7.77 mile trail run a "Fun Run"? I'll tell you--those who do 25k or 50k trail running races (also known as those without toenails).

My first trail running race and I lived... AND I may even want do a few more...

Granny Envy at the VT 50

Being that my longest ride of the summer was the DH 40 I knew it was going to be one hellacious day. Rolling off the line at 6 am in the pitch dark made for an interesting start. Once we were out of the resort area and were on the dirt roads I was wondering why I had a pack of riders around me. I was barely moving. Were these people slow, fat and out of shape, too? Awesome. I'm not the only one. Then I realized it was because I was the only one with a head lamp. Fast forward to the sun coming out and they dropped me like a bad habit. About 10 minutes after that I had to get off and walk. The body was not cooperating. I looked like a total idiot because I was actually walking on the flats as well as the hills. My body and I just needed to have a little chat. It would be a day of walking. I sat at the first aid station for about 15 minutes waiting for George. I figured I may as well wait and have some company. No George. Thoughts went through my head that he didn't even start and was back at the car napping and drinking beer. That didn't seem like a bad idea to me. Kegs and eggs.

A couple of hours in I started to ride more consistently. Unfortunately, my 2 x 9 and 20 lbs. of extra pudge didn't treat me very well. I was cursing everyone who spun past me on the uphills in their granny. Stupid granny rings. 8900 feet of climbing in 50 miles is not for a chick who is vertically challenged.

At one of the aid stations I felt so miserable I was going to ask if there was a sag wagon to take me back. I was embarrassed to do so so I started to get back on my bike and I heard a guy ask a girl at the aid station. My ears perked up. I heard the girl say it would be about a two hour wait. Oh hell no. I can ride.

Somewhere around mile 30 there was the Shangri-la of aid stations. The ladies were drinking mimosas and tequila and were having a blast. I was chatting up the ladies and wanted to stay there all day. Up until this point I had stayed true to only eating the nutritional products I had put in my pockets. Enter homemade cookies and brownies. "You have to have baked goods. Homemade. That Hammer Gel is disgusting. I don't know how you people eat that". Twist my arm why don't you. I couldn't get any worse. I had a brownie. Oh sweet Lord they were good. I took a cookie, some more brownies, drank some Mountain Dew, some Coke AND one of the ladies put a few Snickers in my pockets. Sweet. I was all cracked up and ready to go.

The next few miles were my best of the day. I just had to remember to drink some Coke or Mountain Dew at the aid stations or I was going to have the mother of all sugar crashes.

Just make it to mile 25. Just make it to 32. Make it to 40. 10 miles is nothing...I played this game with my body all day. The last 5 miles were the slowest and longest 5 miles I had ever ridden/walked in my life. It was a tease. I could hear the crowd and band at the finish. The cruel part was that the course took you away from the noise. You eventually snaked back up and around the mountain. The final piece of the course was coming down the mountain. I will tell you that I had no consideration for my safety on the final down hill. I let it go. I wanted the madness to end as quickly as possible. I was so happy to cross the finish line. It was my first point to point endurance race I actually finished. Albeit slow and ugly. But it was still a finish.

All of Team Dark Horse finished and was accounted for after the race (except for Waters who after only drinking two bottles in 50 miles disappeared and was rumored to be passed out in the parking lot)

I Survived the Dark Horse 40 and Got My Bell Rung

Operation Finish a Freakin' Race finally was successful. I chose to ride Gus the Bus (aka the Canyonero) for this one. There's a lot less to think about on an SS. I'm still a hot mess on gears. Getting better. But I still have my issues. I can grind gears like no other. The noises I can get to come out of my geared bike's drivetrain are pretty special. I didn't need 40 miles of that.

Besides the comical downhill start on an SS the first 7 miles or so went pretty fast. On Orchard I had a little road rage issue and tried to pass in what I now know was not a good spot. Someone jumped on my wheel to come with me and caught my back wheel. That knocked me off my line and I locked handlebars with the guy I was passing and the next thing I knew I was eating it. I went down pretty hard. I was mostly concerned with the new glasses that were delivered earlier that week, not my face and appendages. I was pissed. If they were broken someone was going to get it...I kind of remember getting back on the bike. I'm pretty sure I was ghost riding for some time after that. Webb confirmed after the race that I was pretty out of it and somewhat nasty to him when he tried to help me. Sorry Webb! I do apologize!

Thanks to GTLuke for the pics!

By the time I got into the Beaver Pond trails I was feeling it. The arm was hurting. I could still grip the handlebar. It was opening my hand that was the issue. Good thing I didn't need to do that. I was finishing. I was pissed I crashed and I was finishing.

During the second lap the dreaded cramps came. I was afraid one more forceful pedal stroke would send my legs into the cramps from which there are no return. For anyone who's ever cramped on an SS you know what I'm talking about. It something that can't be replicated on a geared bike. Nothing like watching your kneecap jump up and down when you're standing still.

Turns out I finished and won the Women's SS. Today I have the usual DH40 hangover of stiffness and fatigue with an added bonus of abrasions, bruises, and a hairline fracture to the ulna. So worth it!

Two dorks trying to get a podium shot.

TAKE A PICTURE ALREADY!


It turned out to be a great day and a great race. Thanks to everyone at Dark Horse for making it happen. You guys put a crazy amount of work into it and it shows. Thank you!

Better Late Than Never

Playing to the pit crew

Pit Crew

My mostest favorite picture EVER!

And yes, I will definately do it again!

Mohican

Well, I say I like to ride in the mud and I got my wish. Monsoon. Hail. MUD. Fun. By design I wanted to start slow. I just wanted to finish. Little did I know that was a big mistake. I got stuck behind riders who had to walk A lOT. It was pretty miserable because of that. Going into the singletrack I was actually off of my bike and waiting in line to enter the singletrack. It took forever!!! At times I was laughing (or else I'd cry) because it was so painful to go so slow.

Basically, there was nowhere to go. There was a train of riders in front of me and a train behind me. Even if I did pass a few people I still wasn't going anywhere. I made it to Aid Station 3 and it took 7 + hours!!! It was insane. My pit crew/ family was there and I pulled the plug. They were very supportive of my being a quitter. Maybe a little too supportive? Well, at least they had Mike. Now I know you have to start faster at Mohican or you will get bunged up in the singletrack. Once my dad (nudge nudge wink wink) figures out how to download photos I will post a few of me in all of my glory.

At least Mike had a good day...

Frenck Crick

Well, putting better judgment aside (as usual) I decided to head to PA to do the French Creek endurance race. My theory on the whole thing is that I went to the doctor on Wednesday; got a bag of new asthma meds, so why not put them to the test…

5 minutes after stepping out of the car it began to pour. 9 am start. Fantastic. I actually love to ride in the rain. That wasn’t the issue. It just was a little nippy in only the jersey and shorts waiting at the start. It rained periodically throughout the morning. I had no control over my heart rate and breathing right from the start. Other riders were complaining about the crap in the air and how it was affecting their breathing. GREAT. I had to back so far off that it was pathetic. I couldn’t push, I couldn’t do much. It was frustrating but at the end of the day I got in a 6+ hour workout.

Lap 1 was really slow. After Lap 2 I decided to go to the car and get my inhaler. I had visions of an asthma attack 5 miles in and then I would be screwed. Now I’m looking really cool.

Was it the best decision I’ve made? Clearly no. I should probably wait until all these allergens calm down before I attempt to even do an endurance race. However, if you know me that’s not really how I roll…plus, I’m hoping to finish the Mohican 100 in four weeks so I need to be on the bike—breathing or not!

Wawayanda

So rather than sitting at home and pouting because I couldn't race I decided to pull on my big girl pants and ride over to Waway and watch every one else "enjoy" the first hot one of the season.

Gerry PUSHING his sweet new ride

Top Chef...

Joe Johnston's backside...

Jane killing it...

Mike looking like he's going to throw up...

Not sure who these freaks are....

Brockway having another bad mechanical day...

SSAP

There's really not much to say. Sorry, this post falls under the lame category.

And the body said "NO." Maybe next year the third time will be a charm and I'll actually get to start and finish a SSAP.


This did make me a little happy that I did not have to deal with the clean-up.

You boys have fun out there. I'll be on the couch.

Fair Hell

Ass handed to me. Yes, it was bad. It's over. I finished. Remarkably so since I think I went through every emotion during the 22.5 miles. Not to mention at times I'm quite sure my eyes were bleeding.

It's been almost a year since I've clipped in to race. That right there was enough to make me want to barf. My heart rate was so high sitting at the start line you would have thought I was pedaling. Fair Hill probably wasn't the best choice for my first race back. It's way fast. Seeing how I've had zero intensity yet it was a major shocker to the system. I've been more concerned with finishing the Mohican 100 in June. No intervals, no real hard efforts. Nothing. Not a good thing for the shorter races. Well I paid for that today.

I also was a total idiot in the nutrition/hydration/pre-race ritual department. Do I drink? When do I eat? What do I eat? Do I wear gloves? All things forgotten. Would the nutrition have made a difference? Absolutely not. I would have still been quasi DFL. No excuses here. It was a bad day.

It's been a rough road back to get to the point to where I can ride regularly again. This was a totally demoralizing experience. It makes me ask myself--"Why do I do this? What part of this is fun and enjoyable?"

Usually the answer is FINISHING. Yesterday that wasn't even enough. I was so slow I didn't even want to cross the line because I was afraid if I popped out to the finish the scoring table and tent would be down and then I would even feel more horrible about myself. As if it could get worse. I thought about riding up the road to the car and then discreetly walking my chip back to the scoring table and saying I had a "mechanical". In that last few minutes I was hoping for something to happen so I could have an excuse...black bear mauling, cougar attack, rabid squirrel, drunk and unruly spectator/flasher (that would have been awesome). But alas I rolled over the line...

Today I had to call my rheumatologist because I'm having a little thumb joint issue and I think it's time to start shooting that sucker full of cortisone. He asked me why I sounded so funny and if I had mouth sores (yes, yesterdays effort made my body freak out). A couple of days sounding like Cindy Brady and eating only liquids and soft foods and I'll be back to normal. I told him it wasn't a good day. Every time he asks me for a picture of me in my "costume". Uhhh, that would be a race kit to you and me. He wants to put a picture of me in his office. That's pretty cool. It made me feel a little better...for a second or two. I know I should be thankful I can even ride a bike and there are many others out there who can't be active. I get it. I do and I am thankful. Today I'm just pissed. It happens and it's part of the process. That's what keeps me going.

Meat Loaf

It's been happening everytime I get on the bike since I've gotten back from AZ. I've tried everything to cure this ailment. I can't get Meat Loaf out of my head. No, not the scrumptious culinary delight our moms used to make, but the robust, schweaty, rocker/actor and Rocky Horror Picture Show alum--Meat Loaf. The Bat Out of Hell.


This Meat Loaf....

Not that Meatloaf...

Do I like Meat Loaf? I tolerate Meat Loaf. I don't own any albums or ever say "OOHHH. Don't change the station...I LOVE Meat Loaf." My mom was a big Meat Loaf fan and I remember her blasting and torturing me with the Bat Out of Hell album on the road to various horse shows across the country when I was younger. Yes, I do know all of the lyrics. It's just gonna happen when you've heard it a million times. You don't even know you know them until it's too late and you realize you're cruising down singletrack and belting out "Two out of Three Ain't Bad" at the top of your lungs.

I've tried singing my usual GNR or AC/DC or various catchy 8os songs. No luck. I've even tried to sing the McDonald's Fillet-O-Fish song. I mean who can stop singing that travesty of a jingle?

My "favorite":

I want you

I need you

But there ain't no way I'm ever gonna love you

Now don't be sad

Cause two out of three ain't bad

Don't be sad

Cause two out of three ain't bad

You'll never find your gold on a sandy beach

You'll never drill for oil on a city street

I know you're looking for a ruby in a mountain of rocks

But there ain't no Coupe de Ville hiding at the bottom of a cracker jack box

I want you

I need you

But there ain't no way I'm ever gonna love you

Now don't be sad

Cause two out of three ain't bad

Don't be sad

Cause two out of three ain't bad

There could be worse things, right?

Trimming The Tree

Welcome to Tucson: Where Everyone Can See You Pee

Morning View

I really have no gripes about AZ. How could I? We have ~3 feet of snow on the ground back east. Besides my very first day, I've been in a s/s jersey and shorts every ride. There is one thing I can't get used to--The fact that there is no place to pee safely. Men have it a little easier. We have to work a little more. Everything is so open here. People appear quickly out of no where. You could go behind a cactus or two and if you're lucky find a giant saguaro. Of course, there are a few risks involved in that venture. On the road-even more dicey. You may as well stop at the Circle K or else the cops may be called because you're squatting in someone's driveway. There are no little gullies or trees or rocks to hide behind to do your business. You have to take your chances here. Trust me. Even if you're in the back country you risk exposure. If someone is sight seeing from atop a lookout and looks onward for miles at a mountain I'm pretty sure they could see my white ass like it's a metallic piece of wreckage reflecting the sun. I've kind of gotten used to the whole speed peeing thing. It's now part of my workout. Do I really care if I get caught in the act? Not so much. I just really feel bad for the innocent onlookers. When you gotta go you gotta go...

Saguaro

Somewhere in Saguaro National Park

Redington Pass from Saguaro National Park

"Strange things are afoot at the Circle K" -Ted, Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure

It's been awhile since I've been able to use that one. Had to slip it in there.