Meatloaf, Smeatloaf

I had some big plans of taking a Christmas photo of Mike and I out on the snowy and frozen trails. However, that plan never came to fruition as the only stopping was to maneuver around ice (there was a lot of that), speed pee and let the hands get warm. Digging the phone out was the last thing on my mind as it was a wee bit chilly out there. It was cold enough to start that Mike had to take extra precautionary measures so his junk didn't get cold on the road ride to and fro:

When I asked Mike what he wanted for Christmas dinner his response was "Meatloaf." Meatloaf? Really? I was thinking beef tenderloin,ham, seafood...not meatloaf. Cue A Christmas Story:

                             " Meatloaf, smeatloaf, double-beatloaf. I hate meatloaf."

So I covered it in bacon to make it more Christmas-y.

Everything worked out.

There is always a sigh of relief as the holiday insanity comes to a close. This year it's a little different for me as I did something a tad bit on the silly side, so now it's my turn  to get a bit crazy. I made the decision to go to Utah this year and do the True Grit Epic. For those of you keeping score, that's an NUE on March 15th. I wouldn't feel so nervous about it if I had been feeling well these past few months. I'm on the up and up now and I just hope it continues so I can get what I need done so I don't embarrass myself (too much). All nervousness and fear of looking like an ass aside, I am pretty excited to go ride in St. George. I promised myself last year that I would do a new-to-me NUE venue even if  it required a plane ticket and well, I like to keep my promises.

Home with Bowie Instead

Well, my weekend did not go as planned. We had planned on going down to Philly for sscxwcphilly. We were registered, had a room and plans with some great folks. Friday I did my shakedown ride to see if my newly ordained sscx bike was in acceptable working order. The bike was great. I on the other hand was not feeling so chipper. It had been a really rough week with very little sleep because the body was having a little fight with itself. I felt flarey and a bit feverish on Friday before we were supposed to leave and I had to make the call. My hands were terrible. It was not an easy call. I could have not "raced" and still have gone for the party. However, when I feel like that I'm not much fun (In fact, I'm a total bummer) and socializing and fun are the last things on my mind. All I want is my pajamas, tea, a couch and bad TV. I could have gone and maybe have felt better, but I knew there was a good chance that if I went I could possibly be sick for a couple of weeks after. I couldn't risk it. I'm on immunosuppressants right now and prednisone still, so it was the smart thing to stay home. I rarely choose the smart thing.

Friday I made the call and decided that I was going to sleep. I really don't like to take the drugs they give me for pain and sleep because I feel so terrible on them and the next day I feel so hungover that I may as well have been doing shots of tequila all night. Well, I caved and I slept. With pharmaceuticals comes crazy dreams for me. I had a dream that David Bowie lived with us. He was an excellent cook but shockingly messy. I did not expect that out of Ziggy Stardust. Iman was not allowed to visit at the house because she was too mean and those were the house rules.

I didn't get to play in costume on a singlespeed cross bike with my friends in Philly. I'm bummed I missed the show. That's the way it goes, I guess. Live to fight another day. At least my house guest made me some killer scones.

It's Here





I'm pretty good at winter. I know it's supposed to be the time of year when I'm supposed to get upset  and curse the weather for being so cold and making the conditions a little tough. I live in the Northeast. Why wouldn't I expect a wintry torture? I'm not saying I love winter or prefer it, I just think it's a necessary evil. If there was no winter I wouldn't appreciate that first day when I can wear light gloves and actually steer and brake. I would also never get to smile that smile of both relief  and embarrassment when I get to put shorts on for the first time and show my pasty (and most likely hairy) legs. What about the day you feel really fast and then realize it's just because you are no longer cocooned under 15 lbs. of clothing? I especially love that day.

 



 



 



 

 

New shoes, new tights and new gloves are coming soon. I've dragged my feet long enough and duct tape, although a modern marvel, has taken me as far as it could. I'm hoping for a winter without my toes, fingers and ass hanging out.

Hellooo There, Blog

Well, it's been a while. It's probably best that I have not blogged these past few months. It most likely would have been a bitch session about my health. This is pretty much my past few months in a nutshell: sick, doctors, drugs, tests, more tests, more drugs, pity party, feeling polluted...riding too much when I shouldn't and screwing myself for a couple weeks. One step forward and two steps back. That's the way it goes, I guess. Onward and upward; it's all one can really do.

So what's new? Hmmm. Not  much. I'm more boring than ever. I'm just enjoying being back on the bike regularly (fingers crossed). I did finally cave and started using Strava. The verdict is still out. I'm not using it every time, but I'm trying. We'll see how long that lasts.

This morning I had a chance to go on my first snow ride of the season. It wasn't good snow, it was the bad, pack-y, sticky, put-a-foot-down-and-good-luck-clipping-back-in asshole snow. I was on my face a few times thanks to my rhododendron friends and some awesome handling moves by me.

Here's to more days on the bike ahead...

Testing

I got an email that my blog should be fixed.

Seems I can space...

And it seems that I can once again add photos:

Nothing is safe from my latest find.

Okay. I'm going to try and get back to this blogging thing.

Well, I've been trying to post my Hampshire 100 report for a while now and another post and another post. Now, it's kinda late. Blogger is being an asshole. I can blog as long as it's one big paragraph and I don't want to add pics. It's time to move the blog...

I wished for...

…an alien abduction this past weekend. I also wished for bad things to happen to my bike. Ever have one of those days when nothing feels right? Your gloves bother you, your shoes feel like they are a stranger’s, your helmet feels like it is cracking your skull open, your sports bra/heart rate monitor strap combo is digging into you like nobody’s business, your legs feel like they are not your own…I should have stayed in bed. Sure, XC is not my strong point, but I was extra slow this past weekend. Shit wouldn’t work right. It’s over and it happens to everyone. I’m just glad that I (hopefully) got the bad day out of my system. I had noticed my bike was shifting funny a couple of days before and thought it was just me being a moron and an incompetent shifter. However, when I went to wash my bike on Saturday evening I noticed that the cable had eaten through the frame protector on the bottom of my frame because it was too tight and was now ready to munch into the frame. The housing was eaten through. So I did have real issues… I’ve only been on the damn thing about 15 times. Glad I looked and now I know I have to pay attention to that. I was also glad that at 8 pm the night before the race, Mike was able to scrounge up some housing. I will be keeping an eye on my mechanic from here on out:

Now, I’m just hoping I can turn it around this week. I’m planning on doing the Hampshire 100 this weekend. It will be my last hundred this year. I had planned on Shenandoah, but I’d rather go see someplace new and get my last one out of the way as soon as possible. I love them, I do, but there comes a point in the season when you are ready to be done and looking forward to moving on to something else. I’m feeling a little on the ick side this week and I’ve been waiting to register. I still have until tomorrow night. Fingers crossed…

Wilderness 101

I would first like to start by reporting that there was no crying. With the added climbing and singletrack this year, there was a good possibility of crying. I didn't even have my normal "6 hour serial killer" mood where afterwards I always feel bad for all of those who came into contact with me during this time. Last year, I had one of my most miserable experiences on the bike at the 101. I actually came away with a smile this time. I felt pretty decent the whole day, which was a new experience. Yes, there were climbs that really hurt and some flats were unpleasant because of the singlespeed thing, but I survived.

Earlier in the day I had decided and made it my mission to conquer one of the climbs that caused me to come undone last year: Stillhouse. I didn't know what it was called last year. This year I actually looked at the map and got the name. Then after the race I did a web search out of morbid curiosity. Let's just say I'm not the only one who has come undone on this climb. It wouldn't be a bad climb if it came earlier in the race. However, it comes at around the 77 mile mark. I decided I was not going to put a foot down on that douchey climb this year. Aid Station #4 is under an overpass right before it begins. I stopped and switched my bottles. I also had caught up to a teammate and a friend and that put a little pep in my step. I kinda flew under the radar at the aid station. They took off and I followed closely behind. You leave the aid station and turn right into the horror show. Just as I had remembered it: a meandering line up a rocky-ish and sweaty doubletrack. Last year, I actually made one of the turns (on foot), saw it climbed more and stood for what seemed like forever hunched over my bike in full on tears and break down mode. I am not a crier, so this was new to me. I remember it raining really hard at this point and not being able to stop crying. This year I was not walking. NOT WALKING I SAY!!! I stood a little, sat a few pedal strokes and stood some more. Mostly, I did a whole lot of standing. I passed my teammate and my friend at the beginning and that helped mojo wise. There was no way I was putting a foot down now. I grunted it out. I made it to the top where it kinda flattened out and I knew I had made it and I had what I like to call a "Fuck Yeah" moment. At that point I decided I need more "Fuck Yeah" moments in my life. I don't have nearly enough. They are good for the soul.

 After that I giggled and spun like a maniac because I knew the two hooligans behind me would do everything in their power to catch me on the downhills and flats. My least favorite part of the day came when it was time to descend Panther Run. Last year, I actually had to stop around three times to shake out my hands and give my elbows a rest because they hurt so bad. This year they hurt, they really hurt...but I didn't allow myself to stop. I knew JS was coming for me on his fully. I went through the final aid station and made it to Fisherman's which is a lovely hike-a-bike section. This year more hike-a-bike was added. I heard someone behind me, I glanced over my shoulder and saw an orange helmet. Shit! I trotted and slid around in the ankle buster boulder field and finally made it out to the flat, rail trail section towards the finish. Doomed. Doomed! I spun my ass of and was going nowhere. I had to pee so bad for the past hour so I could hardly sit on the saddle. I glanced behind me and saw that damn orange helmet again. About 4 minutes later he flew past me with a cadence of about 40 and I think I may have heard a snicker and then,"If you had gears you could jump on....". Bah. Well, no reason not to not stop and pee now. It had gotten that bad. I was about to throw up. I couldn't even make it the ~1.5 miles to the finish without stopping. After sweet relief came I continued to pedal and could see the campground. I pedaled through the campground and into the finish. Yay!!!!! I can honestly say I was in good spirits the whole day. I started with a smile, had a smile in the middle and finished with a smile. Not something I can always say about hundreds.

I think 8 Toasted Head team members represented at the 101. That was pretty cool to have that many people there. Now I'm rethinking this month. Hampshire 100 or Shen? Hmmmmm. Hampshire 100 would be a new course. New is good.I'd better be making up my mind soon. I'll see what the body has to say at the end of this week and make a decision. Right now it's not too happy and it still hurts to brush my hair so the thought of another hundred in less than three weeks seems like not such a good idea. However, I have a little experience now and I realize how quickly the tide does turn...

Bear Creek Nats



Well, that was quite a weekend. There were a few things that stood out this past weekend: the heat, the heckle pit, the racing, hanging with old and new friends, the heckle pit. On Friday we showed up and got a little riding in and visited. Saturday was the cross country race. I fed Mike for his race and then it was time for the ladies to go off. Uggh. I raced gears for the first time since I don't know when. It was a bit odd. Riding gears is different than racing gears. My singlepeed habits sure have a way of popping up. I made a concerted effort to sit the climb. My legs were not the snappiest they have been and they were a little shocked when I asked them to sit and spin the whole initial climb. They played along. The first time. I was a mess. What does this lever do? Big ring. Little ring. Spinny. Grindy. Standy. No! No standy! Once we got up the climb and to the fun, technical part of the course I became an impatient asshole. I used the fully to pass people in the tech. I took some funky lines that I would have never taken on a single. Although, it seemed like a good idea at the time because I was passing people, I was working way too hard because the fully allowed me to. At about 40 minutes in my body let me know it was not fond of the idea by hitting me with twinges of cramps. I'd been drinking and I was plenty fueled. It was due to effort. Geared, sitty efforts at that. I was starting to fall apart at 45 minutes and it was horrifying. I finally made it through the first lap and was faced with the second lap. The pace of the second lap: backwards. I didn't think I was going to make it to the finish. At one point I tried to remember if I had gone through a stream crossing or stepped in water because my feet were squishing and sloshing in wet shoes. It then hit me that it was sweat. My legs were cramping and I was cracked. Somehow I made it up and over the final little gravel climb to the finish. I made it and I wasn't last. Mission accomplished.

The only thing that kept me going was the LWC heckle pit. It was incredible. There are no words. I could hear the roar before I got to the drops: horns, screaming, jeering, and whistling-a cacophony of drunken goodness. Toasted Head is a PA/Philly team really, so I got a little extra love and shout-outs which made it that much better.

My first lap I dismounted up the steep up and ran like I was on my singlespeed and I heard, "You have gears now, use them!". I remember screaming, "I don't know how!". That about sums up my cross country race.



 After I was done racing it was time to get changed and participate in the heckle pit for the pro races. This was the highlight of the weekend. If I do not race next year, I will be fine with being a professionl heckler for the weekend. I may have gotten a little boozed up in the heckle pit before Super D practice opened. I think my best runs came on Saturday night when I had some liquor in me. I was loose and relaxed, that's for sure.

Come Sunday morning, it was time for a morning run on the course and a crash. During the race I had some issues going into and coming out of that same spot. I was a bit tentative and lost my mojo right away and that got in my head the rest of the run. I ended up taking 3rd in my class and I was pretty happy about that. Gears and suspension were pretty damn fun for the Super D. One day I will learn to ride them cross country. One day, but I won't be working on that this weekend.

I will be showing my ss some love at the Wilderness 101 on Saturday. My goal as always is to take time off from last year and for the W101, I have added the extra goal of not crying. For some reason last year I had a meltdown. It wasn't that it was so hard or that I was so tired and spent. The course is not even a particularly hard hundred. I just lost my mind last year. I'm not a crier. All I remember is crying in the rain and not being able to stop.

I will not cry. I will not cry.

Ahh...Summer

I'm not sure what is is about summer and where we live in particular (oh wait, yes I do...heat and humidity and living near a creek), but the crayfish go crazy. If you are sitting in our front room and the windows are open, you can actually hear them crawling up the driveway. I've had to wait for dogs, cats, bears and geese to cross our road, but this time of year I regularly have to wait for these attitudinal little creatures to get out of the way.

It's also the time of year when the rhododendron are blooming.

They are pretty, but they get a little flirtatious and downright aggressive at times. They have a tendency to get a little ornery and grab you off the bike.

This summer there will be a first for me. With some feet dragging, whining and lots of peer pressure,  instead of being a spectator/handler, I will be participating at the Cross Country Nationals in Macungie, PA. Notice the use of the word "participating". Much to some people's surprise I did not go in the SS Category. I chose to go in my age group (younger old ladies) and am going to race my fully for the first time.  I don't expect to do anything other than finish and get a high intensity workout. I have the W101 on the singlespeed the following weekend, so we'll get plenty of quality time there. I'm not worried our relationship will suffer.

I have this nifty, new bike with shifty bits and cush now and I kinda want to ride it. Plus, why not ride a bike with a little cush at a rocky, technical course? I also registered for the Super D which should be a good time. My first Super D experience was a blast on the singlespeed and I'm assuming it will even be more fun on the fully. I could be wrong, but it does gives me a good excuse to break out the baggies.

Road Kill

My old and cantankerous Litespeed, "Vito the Guido", and I attempted a road TT. I had some issues. Mostly some mental and shifting issues. Let's also add that I had no idea what I was doing. Mike went off early, so I was left to my own devices (which can be questionable at times). I got a lecture before his start not to screw around and miss my start. Me? Screw around? Never. I observed the other riders closely and followed their leads(minus the trainer warm-ups and incessant bike and saddle wipe downs because of the rain. So much to say about that last one.It's raining- your ass is going to get wet. But what do I know?). The shifting issues were do to me being in panic mode and also maybe a little to do with the fact the bike hasn't had a damn thing done to it since we bought it used on EBay about 4 years ago. I'm mostly traumatized because because I almost slipped out on road kill. The official at the start actually warned us about the "unusual amount of road kill". What dumb ass hits road kill? Long story short, I was going right, it was splattered all over the road. I did not react in time and I hit a chunk of carcass and I started to slip out. I over corrected and ended up thwacking my left foot against the road to push myself upright. My pedal hit and it hurt. It felt like a jolt of electricity going up my left side.I got myself together and remained upright the rest of the trip. My thoughts during this whole calamity? Please don't splatter up on my bike and body and bottle. I will surely vomit. Close your mouth.

I actually enjoyed the experience (minus the near death experience by road kill). It was short, sweet and to the point and we were home at 11:00 am. I probably could have been a second or two faster if I could have kept my mouth shut. I'm sure some of you have something to say about that last comment.

Disco Lemonade

I recover at the speed of pudding. The week after a hundred I am absolutely useless. I usually don't start feeling like a normal person until two weeks after. It was an even tougher pill to swallow this past week because I couldn't even ride my new bike. I picked it up the morning we left for the LJ100 so it's been in the basement just waiting and taunting me.  I messed with it and switched out the tires, put on my fat, cushy grips and old lady saddle and got my basic starting point set-ups done as far as reach, saddle height and suspension is concerned. I stared at it and took it out for an easy spin up and down our road, but I felt awful. I made an attempt to take it out Saturday but the body wasn't having it, so I had to wait another day. Yesterday, I finally got to take it out. I was still pretty beat, but NBS (New Bike Syndrome) put a little pep in my step.

Rocks, roots, road....I hit a little bit of everything. My first review was that it was "better than pulled pork." That's extremely high praise coming from me.

So what am I going to do with it? Ride it for now. That's what. I never really learned how to ride a bike with shifty bits in the woods and I'll leave it at that. I wanted a little more comfort and squish and now I have it. It just happened to come in a much awesomer format than planned.

I planned on a lesser Epic model when I walked into Dark Horse and somehow walked away with an S-Works. Yes, a little flashy and a lot of bike for me at my level, but I got a hella good deal and couldn't pass it up. I do have some reservations that the bike is too nice for me.

A couple of more rides and I think I might get over it.

Lumberjack 100

Yes, I have been a blogging slacker. I had three or four started and never went back and never went in and gave them the final read through and publish click. Maybe I'll get to them. I feel it's a little late now. Just know they were extremely well written and highly entertaining. Hehehe. Here's the short version:

• I conquered two of my biggest fears: racing my SS at a ski resort course and riding through geese all in the same race. If I had ridden through creepy keychains with chotskies, a pack (?) of chupacabras and the Kia Hamsters slathered in Miracle Whip, I would have faced more fears. It could have been a day of immersion therapy.
• I did a Super D on my SS. I survived and it was mildly entertaining because I'm a spaz.
• I was a jackass and stopped taking two auto-immune meds that I'd been on for a year the day after Cohutta because I thought I was doing well and could handle not taking them. Well, let's just say about two weeks later it was rough going and there was some REALLY bad bloodwork. Now I'm back on the up and up. I don't think I'll be doing that again. Public Service Announcement: Don't do that. Ever.

Okay, that about does it. On to the Lumberjack 100....

The LJ100 is at the Big M Ski Trails in Wellston, MI. The locals lovingly refer to this race as the "Big MF'r". It is. It really is. It has also become one of my favorites. The event is really well run and the vibe is awesome. I can't say enough about it. It's described as one of the easiest hundreds. I'm gonna have to disagree with that. Sure there's nothing technically challenging per se and I think there's one rock on the course, but it's a really fast, sandy course with grinders, some steeps and poppers and there's no real rest. You are literally whizzing through trees for 90 miles of the course. If you zone out it's going to be a very bad day. Case in point: there were quite a few men with arms in slings at the end of the race and I counted 4 tacoed wheels the first two laps.

My starts at hundreds are less than desirable. I don't start to warm-up until about an hour into the race. I'm not sure if it's the lack of warm-up or if it's because the race starts at 7 am and my body is on banker's hours and prefers not to work before 9 am. I wish I could blame it entirely on the SS, but I can't. It's something I know I have to work on.  By the time I get to the singletrack, I'm pretty much last (or at least it feels that way). After the first couple hours in traffic, things get rolling and I start to feel better.

The first lap I spent getting used to riding in the sand and cornering. Not gonna lie, I had some issues. I had some near misses with trees because of my awesome cornering skills. My right hand cornering seems to be more atrocious than the left. My friction-rubbed left jersey sleeve is evidence of that. Besides my handling issues, it was a pretty uneventful race for once. No mud, no shorts splitting open and riding with both thighs hanging out, no getting lost...just moving forward and all the normal aches and pains that come along with a hundred.

I knew what my time was from last year and my goal was to cut 45 minutes off. I kept that in my head and every time I would catch myself in lala land for god knows how long I had to snap myself out of it. The focus for a 100 miles is a skill all in itself and one I have to get better at. Note to self: Get faster at daydreaming pace.

Lumberjack is a lap format and it is chip timed so you can see how much you fall off each lap. I was really curious to see if my lap times were consistent. I had a feeling I would be pretty consistent this year. I've gotten better at getting into a pace and staying there. Without fail, I always have a bad patch at a little over 6 hours. I have to have my trip to the dark side or it wouldn't be a hundred. I convince myself that I'm selling every bike and never doing this again, I try to come up with other hobbies/outdoor activities that I think I would enjoy (on this particular ride I was considering organic gardening and buying chickens so I could eat and sell their eggs. Oh, and a pygmy goat. I really want a pygmy goat.) and I have violent thoughts about those riding around me who won't stop chatting. Then I work through it and I usually end up feeling better at the end of the race than I did at the beginning. I only fell off a few minutes each lap and the second and third included multiple pee stops and pits. That made me very happy.

I hit my goal of taking off 45 minutes from last year's time and was just shy of taking off an hour (one less pee stop and I would have had it!). I ended up 2nd SS Women and 10th Overall Women. I was so excited before the race that 7 women were registered in the SS Women and on race day only 3 actually raced and that disappointed me. Most switched to gears and some didn't show. I walked away with $200 so that took away some of the sting.

Five of my teammates showed up for this one and it was nice to have people there for support and fun that far away from home. Fun times were had.

I do have to give a shout out to Charlie for helping me improve this past year and putting up with my shenanigans. Thank you!

Now it's on to recovery and trying not to eat everything in sight. I also had a new addition to my bike stable that I plan on playing around on this week while I'm on the mend thanks to Dark Horse. I'm very excited. I'm also prepared for some frustration of learning to shift and ride some squish. More to come on my new ride...

Wildcat 100



Photo Courtesy of Renegade Mountain Bike Club



I had given myself an out for the Wildcat 100 in New Paltz, NY. I hadn't been feeling right since Cohutta and I hadn't even been able to pull off a ride that could be considered a workout. After a rough week, I kept taking it day by day. Friday rolled around and I still felt like I had just stepped off the bike from Cohutta and had some sort of funk still going on. I even changed my gearing from spinny to spinner because I knew I had no power. I woke up Saturday and just went with it. It was raining and I knew it was going to be another "fun one". 

My body may have not been right but I knew I was in a good place mentally. That's half the battle. What the Hell? It's only a hundred miles, right? Just go ride your bike, the rest will fall into place.

Not gonna lie, there was some chaos surrounding the race: registration, drops, timing chips, so on and so forth...I just prayed the course was marked well. Having done one of the promoter's events before I knew to keep my head on a swivel.

I had originally planned on running a 34/19. The course kept changing. Add weather and a tired ass body and I went with a 34/21. Now, I am not a spinny girl. On any day I will choose to be overgeared rather than under so this was a new thing for me. The start was a little climb into flat road all the way to Williams Lake. It was probably only a mile or so but it felt like 20 as everyone flew past me on their geared contraptions. I tried to hang onto wheels but I had a feeling that it was going to be conga line style once we entered WL and I wasn't feeling so peppy so I just backed off. It was the usual 100 starting chaos. Add rain and greasy mud and you have a party. I made it to one of the flat road sections and I have to admit I was feeling a little sorry for myself and hating my gearing selection as I could only rock out 13-14 mph and more people were flying past me as if I was standing still. From out of nowhere someone came along and slapped me on the ass. I was confused at first then saw who it was and it all made sense: C-Dubbs. I couldn't help but smile and laugh.

I slowly plugged away. I knew when I couldn't sit the gear on not-so-steep inclines that is was going to be a painful day. It rained. It stopped. It rained some more. I made it through some more climbs and more flat sections. There were horses who had busted out of their field and were bucking and kicking and being ornery as any escapees will do. I found them entertaining but others not so much. Made a couple wrong turns and actually rode into a man's driveway at one point. I regained my composure and made it to the aid station at mile 26 and switched to bottles and made my way down the descent to Lippman. The 2 miles of  flat road all the way to Lippman was not one of my favorite parts of the day. Once I got into Lippman it was pouring. I smiled because I do love to ride in wet, muddy, rooty, rocky stuff. I actually had fun with it. Out of Lippman, I had the 2 miles of flat and the climb all the way back up Minnewaska. On the way up Minnewaska, a shirtless man working in his yard told me I was pretty (obviously inebriated) and offered me whatever he was drinking (vodka I presume from the accent). Tempting at the time but I didn't want to end up on 48 Hours Mystery and I continued to the aid station, saw some friendly faces, met up with a teammate, climbed some more and headed down "the Alp" and to more flattish roads.

The horror prize of the day goes to a field. That's right. A field. I followed the course markings, dropped down into some fresh cut and then it was a freshly plowed field with two days of rain staring at me. I looked around for the course and finally with some crack detective work decided that that was the course. Oh, yes. I could see it now. 6-8 inch deep foot prints and some tire marks. I tried to ride it but my tires packed and the mud brought me to a halt. I got off and tried to walk it. I was attempting to muscle my bike forward but the mud packed more with every rotation. My bike stopped dead at one point and I kept moving forward and I hit my face on my handlebars. I stopped to make sure no one saw that sweet move. I then decided that if I was the land owner I would totally be sitting out here right now with friends watching this debacle with beer and a smile. I would have made a day of it. Someone could charge admission and make some money. I tried to pick my bike up and it weighed ~40 lbs. I had to stop and clear the mud out every few rotations. I had to laugh or else I would have cried. Poor white shoes. You were so pretty. I apologized and told them that not all races will be like Cohutta and Wildcat. Or will they?

A little taste of some trail:

Photo thanks to Cindy C.

There were some other mid-calf mud horrors ahead. The course ran alongside an electric fence at one point and the mud was deep and sketchy. A guy I was following touched the fence with his shoulder and let out a yelp followed by some colorful obscenities. I was so impressed with his word choices that I put them in my bank for later. I commended him for his creativity and he laughed. I quickly adjusted and rode on the left side of the "trail" away from the live fence.

While a lot of people looked forward to the longer 12 mile rail trail section, I did not. I felt like a circus monkey on a bike. I looked at my speedometer and tried to keep moving as fast as my masher legs would take me. My new friend who was attacked by the electric fence earlier caught up with me and offered to pull me. I couldn't even hang on. He offered to slow down but I told him to save himself and go.

I made it to the Larsen Loop singletrack that was near the end. I had some navigational issues after that. I came out of the Larsen Loop and had no idea where to go. I rode backwards on the trail hoping for signs of life. I retraced my steps and saw nothing. I saw two people at a house and asked which way riders went. They told me three went right and a couple left.Well, shit. That didn't help me. I went left for a minute and it felt wrong. I came back to the intersection, listened for signs of life and I rode a couple more circle again and decided that there was more evidence of bikes that went right. No confirmation markers but it didn't feel wrong. I then saw arrows going the wrong way and then confirmation tape and I knew I had made the right decision. We went out the same way we came in. Thank goodness. After some more mud shenanigans I finished.

Worse than Cohutta conditions wise? Perhaps. There was  a lot more mud. It's a tough call because I could at least feel my extremities at the Wildcat.

Was it up to NUE standards? No way. Not even close. There were issues. I have a new appreciation for the other NUEs and what fantastic jobs the promoters do. The results were and are somewhat sketchy still. Some were rerouted to road and some took singletrack. Some missed entire sections of trail. Some are missing from the results entirely. I think everyone had a different version of the course. I'm not sure the results will ever be "final".

Some positives about doing the Wildcat 100 were sleeping in my own bed the night before and after the race and getting to do the following the next day instead of riding in a car for 13 hours:

Sleep In
Breakfast
Farmer's Market
Clean Up
Picnic Lunch at Waway
Ice Cream
Park
Date with DVR
Bed



Recovery

Most of the activities we could have done and have done by bike. However, we chose to do them with the aid of a Dodge Ram instead. It was a lovely day for our day of R & R. I cannot tell a lie...I'm beat. Next up? Hmmm. Decisions, decisions...

Cohutta 2013

The conditions were lovely on Friday when we got to the Whitewater Center to pick up our packets and do a little ride. Sun was out. Birds were chirping. Legs felt good. Fast course. Warm and dry. It was a "Zippity Do Dah" kinda day. If only the race could have been on Friday. Fast forward about 5 hours that night and things began to get ugly.

As I peeked out the hotel room window at 4:30 am on Saturday morning I saw rain. I saw puddles. Big, cold, ugly puddles. We got to the venue and sat in the truck because it was raining on and off at that point. I didn't get out of the truck or on my bike until I absolutely had to. Standing in line for the bathrooms there was chatter about the weather and what everyone was wearing. It wasn't the fun, "those socks are cute" conversation, either. It was more about being prepared for a really long and miserable day in the saddle. There was even talk of rain pants and Gore-Tex (shudder).

It was sprinkling at the start and continued to rain on and off throughout the day. Up the initial climb, I started to warm up but I was by no means warm. In the initial singletrack there was some chaos due to the greasy conditions. People were literally flying off the trail. I caught up with one of my teammates and we had the conversation that we were hot and we were going to shed some layers at the first aid station. That never happened. In the next 15 minutes it began to rain harder and it got colder. It was going to be a really long day.

I'm not one to look forward to climbing. I have to say that I looked forward to the climbs all day because it was so damn cold. I couldn't feel my hands and feet at about 3 hours in. The descents were freezing. I couldn't let go of the brakes because A) my hands were numb and I was afraid I wouldn't be able to brake if need be 2) some of the roads were pretty eroded, sketchy and wet and 3) Ick was spraying up and blinding me, even with a fender. Usually, I like to let it go on downhills or "free miles". That wasn't happening. When it was time to climb again the muscles were good and tight. I could hardly get them to turn over for the first few minutes and they hurt like hell and I felt like my quads and hammies were going to snap. The roads were soft and slow and by the time my legs were warmed up it was time to descend again. At four hours in, my bottom lip began to quiver and I couldn't get my teeth to stop chattering. I had to pee so badly for the past hour. I finally stopped and I had bibs on so I pulled over to get undressed. My hands were not working. It was raining. My zipper on my vest was so crusted with mud I couldn't get it to unzip with my frozen fingers. I was about to have a panic attack because it was becoming an emergency situation. What happened next is not something I'm proud of. I tried to pull the leg of my shorts over so I could go. It worked; at least a little and I'll leave it at that. It wasn't pretty, but I got the job done. Let's just say I'm glad it was rainy and muddy at that point.

The course is a lollipop so at a certain point you can see the leaders coming back through. The good news is I was farther along than I was last year when I saw the leaders. The bad news is they looked miserable and more caked with mud than those of us just heading towards the lollipop. The singletrack section was slick and messy and there were parts I just had to suck up and walk. I wasn't getting anywhere. The mud was over my shoes. I tried to stay on the bike but I was expending too much energy in the greasy mud. I hit a bad patch here. I don't know if it was mental or physical. I'll go with both. I usually do well in horrible conditions. I like the mud. I like the slop. I don't mind the rain. I was definitely starting to mind. All of a sudden I was not having fun and I wanted it over with. I thought about the season and cursed myself for ever wanting to do the NUE Series again. In my mind I had decided that I was NEVER doing this again. I was trying to convince myself that XC is the way to go because if conditions are bad at least it's only for a couple of hours. I came out of that singletrack and there is a gravel road climb. I was fine for a bit and pedaling and then my lower back started to cramp. The pain went from just below my rib cage and down my left ass cheek and into my left leg. I’ve been having trouble for about the last month and I thought I was going to be okay. I had to pull over and lie on the ground and hug my knees to my chest and do some hip openers. I'm sure I looked like a winner at this point. I got back on the bike and a guy singlespeeder came along and I started to ride with him. Walk with him. Talk with him. It was a nothing climb compared to what was behind me and what was in front of me, but my back said "HELL, NO" so I walked. I walked up to the bracelet station and got my bracelet (to prove I did the lollipop section). My lack of a smile and piss poor sense of humor could have told them that. I got my bracelet, continued to the next aid station by rotating walking and riding. I finally was doing more riding than walking again. There was a bus filled wet, cold and sad riders waiting to get driven back to the venue at this point. I grabbed a bottle at the aid station and then I knew what was ahead of me: The fucking Potato Patch Mountain climb.

If I could punch a climb in the face it would be this climb. It also comes at about ~60 miles in. I don't even want to eat potatoes again because of the name this climb. I love and eat sweet potatoes every day, but from here on out I will only refer to them as yams. I stayed on the bike at the beginning and then I had to get off. My legs and back were not having it. I walked. I cursed. I rode a little. I walked again. I stopped to pee (I actually was able to get undressed. Thanks for asking). I stood hunched over my bike at one point asking myself again why the hell I do this. Some poor souls were just now coming down to head into the lollipop or the bailout. Finally, at the top of fucking Potato Patch I got it together mentally. There are a few other demoralizing climbs after that but they are not that long. I started to feel better and came around. At the aid station at mile 86ish, I grabbed a fresh bottle from my bag and was on my way. I pedaled on for a bit and then went into the last piece of singletrack: Thunder Rock Express. It was more like "Thunder Butter Express" at this point. It's a fast, flowy benchcut trail on normal days. I was ready to be finished and I rode it like it was still fast and dry. There were two times that this strategy did not work out for me. The corners had taken on fluffernuttter-meets-Crisco quality. I wiped out the first time, giggled and got back on. Did this make me more cautious and slow down? No, it did not. It actually, pissed me off. The second time I hit a LOT faster and a LOT harder. I actually had to lay there for a second. I looked for my bike and it was down the side of the hill and my glasses were no were to be found. Well, I almost made it through a hundred with the same pair of glasses. Another pair lost to the hundred gods. I need to start wearing gas station glasses.

I could hear the cars on the road so I knew I was close. My legs were dead. My eyes were gritty. I don't even want to know how much mud I consumed throughout the day. I could feel the mud chafing me in some not so fun places. I caught a glimpse of concrete. Sweet Mary Mother of God. It was almost over. I crossed the bridge and turned down the road to the Whitewater Center. At this time I wished for gears because I would have used the biggest gear to get down the road as fast as humanly possible. It took what seemed like forever to spin into the finish. I smiled one of my few smiles of the day when I crossed the finish. The Toasted Head guys and Mike were there to see me in (in the dry and warmth of a truck, of course). When I got back to the car my brother was there to help me pack my shit up so I could get back to the hotel ASAP and get warm. I actually couldn't have gotten any colder so I went down to the creek take a "bath" before putting my sloppy self in the truck.

It was an exceptionally cruel day on the bike. I'm glad I toughed it out and I'm glad I did it. Although, I had sworn off NUE races during Cohutta, of course I had changed my mind an hour after I finished. On the way home I was looking at the Wildcat profile to get an idea of what kind of gearing I should run. I'm convinced you have to have some kind of mental illness to do these endurance races. On to the Wildcat 100 in two weeks....

Pictures to come later. I'm sure there are a few floating around.

I hadn't been to Winding Trails in CT in a few years. It was just how I'd remembered it: Fast. Why did we choose to race in CT and not go to Blue Mountain? Well, the discussion was had, and although Blue is a really good singlespeed course, Winding Trails is a drag race. There is not much opportunity to rest and you are on the gas the whole time. Winner. WT is fun on a singlespeed, but the gearies have the upper hand if they use their shifty bits wisely.  A "cleaning of the pipes" if you will the week before Cohutta.

I have to say how awesome it was to line up with ~20 women. That's not even including the Pro/Open Women. My start was a little chaotic because of (what seemed like) an innocuous sand pit at the start. Some banging of the bars and shoulders and we were on our way. After that it was just me remembering how to ride with gearies and not be on their ass when they downshift and give enough room so I can either get past them or back off and give myself enough room to power up the short climbs. There are many big ring opportunities at Winding Trails. I would catch gearies in the singletrack and as soon as we got to a flat I would hear "click, click, click" and they would motor past or away from me. Sonofabitch. I would try to hang on but eventually the elastic would snap. Catch in the singletrack and get dropped on the doubletrack. Rinse and repeat.

There were times when I caught myself in cruise control-endurance-mode and singing to myself and I had to snap myself out of it. The Run-DMC/Aerosmith version of "Walk this Way" was the tune of the day. Be glad you missed it. I'm sure it gave other riders a reason to get away from me. Go faster, Jocelyn. It won't kill you. It's only two hours. Focus. Do not sing. Stop giggling. XC should not be comfortable! If you can giggle and chat, you can go harder. Well, that's what my head said, but my legs said otherwise.

I ended up better than expected. I was 6th in the 35+ Old Lady Class. Now it's a few days of getting stuff tidied up at work and home so we can start the trip down to TN on Thursday. Cohutta bound...endless kitty litter climbs here I come!

Eat More Salad

Some of Team Toasted Head headed to the MASS Relay this past weekend in Marysville, PA. I was stoked to do this event and to do a three man relay with the other ladies on my team. I'd heard great things about the event and it delivered. Weather was beautiful, fun was had and there was a bit of pain involved as well. Trifecta. We also got to pick up and wear the team kit for the first time. You know that saying, "Ten pounds of sausage in a five pound bag"? Truer words have never been uttered. We tried on the fit kits in December and I ordered "up". Ummmm.....yeah. They are TIGHT. The kit actually felt great on the bike because nothing was moving around or shifting (as it was fused to my body). As soon as I got off the bike I felt I needed a robe to cover myself. 

The short, violent efforts were a little startling for this girl. I ran a spinnier gear than I would have preferred, but in the end I knew it would be a good character builder for me. At the end of the relay, I didn't feel like I had done much. I walked up the driveway that night and my legs buckled underneath me. I got in the door and sat down and I could still taste "bloody lung". That's a sign of a good day.

For those of you who will see me at upcoming races: My apologies. Avert your eyes. Twigs and berries for me from here on out.



Well, the day started off fantastically. Woke up at the crack of dark thirty and was pedaling in a frozen and fast Wawayanda paradise while the sun was just waking up. If I could start every morning like this I would be a happy girl. I forgot about the doom and gloom ahead. No, not work. I can deal with work.

The DENTIST.

I hate going to the dentist. My Dad is a dentist so I really dread going to a dentist who is not him. I've had some pretty uncomfortable procedures done to me over the years: twistings, prickings, pullings, drainings, proddings, pokings. I would take any of these over a trip to the dentist. At my last cleaning I found out I had a couple of  few cavities.

NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I brush. I floss. I rinse with ACT. I've been good. This can't be happening.

The theory is that all the endurance riding + the dry mouth for hours and hours + sugary drinks and foods = enamel wear and cavities OR it could be due to medications OR it could be because I'm getting older OR it could be a combination of all of the above. I'm going with all of the above.

I just tried to drink water two hours later. I may as well just pour it down my chest because that's where it's going to end up anyway. I'm still numb up to my right eyeball. I really want to eat lunch but I'm afraid I'll bite a hole through my cheek and/or lip.

The best part is I get to go back for Round 2 on Thursday.

Before and After

There are a few things I should never be allowed to own. White shoes are right at the top of that list.



Not too bad

Others judiciously clean their shoes after a ride. I may clean them after the first ride or two. After that, not so much. I knock the mud off and throw them in the basement. We'll see how these look come the end of April.

Time Flies

There's a giggling groundhog somewhere and the snow on our lawn disagrees, but spring is nigh. Forecast is another 3 -6  inches tonight. One more blip and I'm hoping we're done. I'm over it. It's not even about the not being able to ride in the woods. There's some dirt out there to be enjoyed. Just give me some flippin' sunshine already!!!

With spring comes races (gulp). I kind of have been ignoring the calendar. Today it finally hit me it was mid-March. When did this happen? Call it denial. Call it busyness. Call it laziness. I don't know. I looked today and realized that shit's about to get real again. My schedule isn't as jammed packed as others, but I'm trying to squeeze a few more in there if the body will allow. It seems like yesterday I was getting home from Shen.

This morning I woke up with legs and arms that feel like they were put through a meat grinder and then superglued back together. Let's just say the ss and I played on some rocks over the weekend. You lose a little something when you haven't been able to play on them in a while.

As I was riding yesterday, I noticed my left inner thigh region felt a little chaffy. I didn't think much aboutit at first and chalked it up to death gripping the saddle with my thighs until my friend shouted out "I can see skin when you stand! Soon your whole ass will be hanging out! Bahahahaha!!!'' Oh, Lord. Let's just say it got progressively worse and then I felt a nice breeze on my right side as well. These were my favorite winter tights. I was sorry to see them go. I will say that I got my money's worth.

Looks like Tuscarora for me this weekend. If it's gonna be raining and 35 degrees and a slog fest, maybe not. After that, maybe an xc race or another MASS Endurance race and then it's time for the Cohutta 100. I swore I would never go back to that horror show. It all seems to be happening a little too fast this year...

Chain Whip of Death

I've had a little cold/sinus thing working for a week so I took some cold medicine before bed last night. I don't react well to OTC drugs such as these. I've been known to scream in my sleep and wake up whinnying like a horse when under the effects of these seemingly innocuous OTC drugs. I've experienced robo-tripping by accident way before it was a thing. Talk about a bizarro dream. I dreamt that I fought off a nighttime intruder with a chain whip. A chain whip. Not a baseball bat or a golf club. A chain whip.

I heard an intruder at the front door. I grabbed my trusty chain whip from beside the bed and waited for him to cross the threshold of the bedroom. He did and I attacked him with a chain whip and he fled outside where he collapsed from the chain whip beating injuries. The cops came, arrested the intruder and took my statement. They kept telling me that I was so lucky I had my trusty chain whip and it's a good idea that everyone keep a chain whip beside their bed. The world would be a safer place.

I was still out of it in this morning and I actually woke up and looked to make sure there was no chain whip beside my bed and that there was no sign of an intruder in the house or yard.

Maybe I will put the chain whip beside the bed. I do have cogs, a derailleur hanger, extra drop-outs and brake pads in my underwear drawer. I really don't know when all those things made their way into the bedroom. (Please note: we have a basement and a shed for all things bikes so I have no answer as to why.  It just is.) I think a chain whip beside the bed would be the next logical step.

Arizona

Well, today is a far cry from Arizona. I actually woke up this morning, showered, pretended I knew how to put on makeup, used a hairdryer for the first time in what seems like ages and then put on stuffy clothes that have labels that read "Dry Clean Only" and "Lay Flat to Dry" and then proceeded to work and pretended to know shit about stuff. I don't even want to talk about my foot wear.

Once at work the questions flew:

How was it?

It was great.

What did you do?

I rode my bike and met some new friends on the trail. He likes Pink Lemonade Honey Stinger Chews. If you are not careful, he will nuzzle you to death and and try to get more treats.

Where did you go?

I went places. Quite a few places actually.

Do you have pictures?

There are a few. I didn't take much time to stop and take pictures. Most pictures were taken on pee stops. Otherwise, I was too busy smiling from ear to ear and pedaling. It's hard to justify stopping when you're having so much fun. It's something to be experienced and for the most part, pictures can't do it justice. There's a whole "wide open spaces feel" that cannot be captured on camera.

Now it's time to get back to reality. Highly overrated.

So far...

Again, I'm a little lazy on the blogging front. AZ has been good to me. Some riding, some hiking, some yoga and something called the sun. I will miss waking up to the pink painted skies over the mountains.

 

Eventually, I'll get around to putting a few more words together. There's still a little time left and a couple more adventures to be had. 





yes, please

 

Foggy

I don't remember the last time that I used my blinkie taillight at midday for a ride. The picture actually makes it look a lot clearer than it actually was. After riding in this on Saturday and being a little scared for my life at points, I decided to do a headlight and blinkie on Sunday. It was the kind of fog that when I heard a car behind me I talked to myself, "Please see me, please see me...Oh, good." There were a few of us out there. Nowhere near the usual amount of cyclists on the road for a Sunday.There's something about doing a ride in less than stellar conditions that gives me more satisfaction than a beautimous, sunny day. Whether it be a toad strangler rain, peanut butter mud up to eyeballs, ice, freezing appendages or a blanket of fog, I feel like I accomplished a little more on those days. Physically, yes, it's the same ride. Mentally, well, that's another story. Sometimes the brain needs the dreaded "t" word as well.

So I've been a little lax in the posting dept. I've had some good intentions. I even have three or four blog posts that I started. Just didn't quite make it to the execution stage.

I survived the holidays and now I have the month of January to get lots of work done and make sure I can take my annual AZ trip to "Camp Arlene" without having to do any work. Lots to do, but I want to get it done so I can completely shut off for two weeks. I look forward to the sun, desert and plants that bite back every year.

This past Sunday we ventured down to Philly for Lone Wolf Cycling's Crazy Train. For some reason no photos will upload so I leave you with this. There were a couple few lots of wrong turns, but it was an adventure to say the least, and a crazy good time. The unfamiliar, getting lost and adventure...all reasons I love to ride my bike.

Which leads me to this. I've finally broken down and purchased a trainer that I can actually get a workout on. Do I like it? Absolutely not. I loathe it. I'm trying to make nice because it's going to be a necessary evil. It kind of takes away from what I love about the bike and why I ride a bike: going places and exploring. However, if I want to get the most out of my vacay and not cripple myself by Day 6, I need a little trainer in my life.

Otherwise, I'm pretty boring. Just hanging in...