Keepin It Together

So I was considering posting pictures of the deer fly bites that I acquired over the weekend. However, most of them are on my ass or near my ass region. Still thought about it. Then I thought about my mother and the comments she would have for me and I decided to just say no. You're welcome.

Saturday, Mike and I went for a 6 am ride at Waway. That's right. 6 am. You read that correctly. Up at 5 bells. Pedaled out of the driveway promptly at 6. The joints don't fight me as much in the am of the warmer months so the time is possible. Don't like it. But it's doable. We had a good ride. I haven't had a 29er SS on certain trails in Waway for a long time. There was some cursing and pouting. I have gotten so used to my Epic in there. I still can't believe I used to ride there with a fully rigid steel 26er SS a few years ago. I've gone soft.

* Sweet rock work on new singletrack at Waway

The latest new piece of Nature Jim's work is pretty ass kickin. It literally puts a smile on your face...even at the crack of ass!

*Bottle holder at the rest stop on the new trail (obviously the rest stop was not utilized on this ride)

Sunday, we headed to Stewart for a preview of the 40 course. Nice group ride. It was going swimmingly (word of the day on my co-workers calendar so I felt the need to slide it in there) until we came up on another team member and friend of mine. To protect the innocent we will call him Larry. We came upon Larry and he had taken a dirt bath. Larry's helmet was broken in three places. Larry recollected some other riders picking him off the ground and spraying water on him. Larry jumped back in and proceeded to ride. When we got to the top of the sisters Larry asked me to look at his back. I did a mini-mental status exam and Larry seemed to pass. I'm not sure he would pass when he was with it let alone after a fall on the head but that is neither here nor there. Now I had to be careful with my reaction around Larry. Larry is a notorious over reactor. It's like when a kid falls and is bleeding. You can't panic. Just have to remain calm and go with it. I was ready to witness a little dirt burn. That's not what I saw. It was gnarly. Raw meat. His side was singed off. you could see where a few rocks quite literally ripped through him. I had trouble looking. If you know me I like gore and am the first one on the scene wanting to see the causalities. I had to keep it together and tell him it looked fine. I was silently making vomiting noises in my head. I held in a gasp or two and pulled his jersey back down. Looks fine. You're just gonna be a little sore tomorrow. Mental eye roll. On we went. I made him go ahead of me. I got on his wheel and he rode a little conservatively for some time. When he started to try and drop me and hand me my ass I knew he was going to be fine.

My week in a nutshell

So this week I'm just trying to keep it together. What I mean by that is I'm doing my best to remain healthy so I can race the DH 40. I wasn't able to race it in 2009 and it totally sucked being there and not being able to do it. No flare-ups. Please. It's much easier said than done. It doesn't always work. The fact that I couldn't do Lumberjack and quite a few other events this summer are a testament to that. I will at least try to give my body a fighting chance. I'm powered by Whole Foods pretty much all week. If you see me with Goldfish crackers, beer, cake or anything that comes out of shrink wrap or a box feel free to slap me. Now if you see me with a big fat soft serve cone with rainbow sprinkles, please be kind. A girl's gotta live.

*Obviously, these pictures were not taken on that Saturday. They were taken on a leisurely solo ride. There was no stopping. Not because of the reason you're thinking, Monte is a maniac, but because if you stopped you were eaten alive.

Personal Bests

The Brady Laughing Angus

We all have things we measure ourselves by. It doesn’t always have to do with exercise. It could be the time it takes me to get to work, to get my disheveled self ready in the mornings or the time it takes me to get in and out of Starbucks for a Venti Iced Americano. Some mornings I’m so impressed (my co-workers would probably disagree) with what I can do in under 45 minutes…dog, bird, garbage, recycling, shower, breakfast, pack lunch, coffee…sure, I may look like hell but I get it done and in record time. Once we have a time in our heads it’s really hard to go backwards.

Wednesday night I did my Brady Mountain route. It was H-O-T. I remember the self talk and something about not being too frustrated if I’m a few minutes slower because of the heat and the beating my legs took over the weekend. The heat was brutal. The air was thick. My shins were sweating before I rolled out of the driveway. I told Mike to keep his phone on because I was about 50% sure I was not making it up Cascade. I had already planned my bail out at the new pizza joint before Mt. Peter. I would have an iced tea and enjoy the AC as I waited on my sag wagon. Never enjoyed that iced tea. I made it home by pedaling. The cows laughed and judged me a little as I was a sweating, snarling mess coming up Brady. By the time I got to our road and to the point where I stop my watch and start my cool down I was under my PB by 1 minute 30 seconds. Yes—AWESOME!! Boo—SHIT!!! Now I have to work harder and I’m going to be upset from now on when I don’t see that time or less.

A personal best is just that. Personal. It could be a measure of general health or something tangible to measure progress. The clock can measure that for us. For good or for bad. Whether we choose to ignore the tick tock or embrace it is up to us.

Summer Favorites

Duct Tape

Honey Man

Blooming rhododendrons at Waway

Post Ride Recovery Cones

Cray Fish

After a couple of days of saving the world one crayfish at a time (more on this later) I decided to make the journey to MD with the intention to race. This would be my first XC race in a long time and my first XC race racing gearies on a SS in a really long time.


The start

It all came back to me at the start. That experience of racing the gearies on a SS. The start with the very long flattish road until the singletrack. I tried to draft and hang on as long as possible but it wasn't happening. After the first dip I was shot off the back. I thought I was alone and then I saw out of the corner of my eye another person spinning like she had no chain...yes...there was another one. We looked at each other and laughed as the dust cloud pulled away from us. As soon as I turned down the road I could see a bunch of riders turning into the singletrack. I felt a little better about myself. Once I turned into the singletrack I was back on a pack of riders. Thank goodness.

I got into the rhythm and started to pick people off. Come mile 18 I could feel them coming. I didn't drink as much as a should have. Then I was a spaz and dropped a bottle. First hot one for me + intensity I'm not used to + tall gearing= CRAMPS. Not just in my legs. My triceps were cramping. That was a new sensation. I had about 25 minutes of forced back off. I had to walk stupid shit. I worked through it and then was able to pick it up again. Albeit it was too late, but I didn't come across the line totally defeated. This was a brand new experience for me at the end of a MASS race. Historically, they have ended with me pissy and traumatized, feeling deathly ill, quitting, becoming a chicken farmer, selling bikes, going back to beginner. The usual. This one ended with a smile.


Onto the cray fish...

Friday night it was pouring. Biblical rains. I turned down our road and noticed something scurrying across the road. Not one of the usual creatures that scurries across our road--bear, raccoon, coyote, cat, deer. I pulled up beside this creature and it got all pissy and defensive and and told me it was going to kick my ass. I got out and scooped it into a bag. I ran up to the house and came back down to the car to get the cranky bastard who owed me for not leaving him to be crushed on our street only to find another one by our mail box. Huh. Scooped him up too and threw him in the bag. I walked down to the creek and let them go. The next morning I got up early to go get milk and was driving down our road I saw another one cruising up my neighbor's driveway. Grabbed him too and took him back to the creek. They're probably pissed because I interrupted some cray fish mass suicide or something.