Wiggling my toes with gratitude

Manuel rode his bike like Tigger from Winnie the Poo, bouncing up over bumps and yelling “woo hoo!”. I followed, taking the same lines because they were the fun ones. If Manuel was Tigger, I was Deep Blue, lumbering, persistent, and slow. It didn’t matter, he didn’t mind waiting up.  But I wanted to keep up so I could see him fly. In mountain biking you’re either in the zone or you’re not, and I was not. Manuel dove and flew down a rocky descent and I followed with both fists full of brake. We hit the ravines and I didn’t make it up the back side of one, so I tried again and still didn’t make it. In a not very technical section there was a rise and a slight dip in the trail. Manuel bounced over the rise and I tried to do it too, catching a bit of air. But then I hit the dip exactly wrong, my front wheel stopped dead, and I went right over the handlebars.

Time slows down for me when things get dangerous on the bike. As I was flying over the bars I saw a log to my right so I rolled left. The trail ahead was soft dirt. Good. Tuck the head, tuck the left shoulder, take it on the elbow to protect the collarbone, roll off the hip, perfect. By the time Manuel got back to me I was laughing and boasting about my perfect tuck and roll. I got up with a little pain in my left calf. Did the pedal hit it when I ejected? Maybe. I got back on the bike figuring I’d shake it off quickly, but twenty minutes later I was one-legging everything because of pain in that calf. It wasn’t fun anymore. Manuel claimed something was wrong with his bike, but I’m pretty sure he loosened a bolt on his crank while waiting up for me to save me from myself. When I caught up I finally asked if we could bail and go home. I had no power in my left leg at all and it was tough even walking up the last hill.

My calf was swollen but there was no bruise or mark. I got some ice at 7-11 and iced it on the dashboard of the car. We got food, then Manuel gave me a ride home and carried my bike up the stairs for me and left. I took a shower, got dressed, and promptly collapsed on the couch because the pain and swelling were getting worse. I called Eric and asked him if he could get my computer from my office so I could work from home. He came home, looked at my calf, and convinced me to go to an Immediate MD clinic.

I felt like an idiot, going in to see a doctor for a bruise that wasn’t even a bruise. But I wasn’t there five minutes before the doc asked me which emergency room I wanted them to call for me. I stared blankly. “We need to make sure it’s nothing bad.” I surveyed the faces of the doctor and nurse. Heavy concern. I told them to call Northwestern. They gave me some paperwork and crutches and told me to go straight there. Northwestern’s ER had a lot of people in it that seemed much worse off than me. I got on my laptop and plugged in to work, figuring I’d be there for a while, they’d run some expensive tests, give me a couple ibuprofen and a compression bandage and send me home. Nope. I was in a room after only about 20 minutes of waiting. Within a few hours I had talked to about 15 doctors who all were doing the same tests and all asking the same questions, and then all making that same comment: “We need to make sure it’s nothing bad.” Then they had to do an “invasive” test, measuring the pressures of the compartments within my calf with a needle. I remembered the numbers as they read them off. “63… then after a pause, ok, 70. 70? 70. Stable at 70.” I planned to figure out what the numbers meant by googling them after they left, but they were only gone a minute or two before the orthopedic team came in.

The head orthopedic resident was a big guy who loudly interrupted everything I said. He looked at the compartment pressure test results and asked who did the test, then asked me about my hypertension. “Dude. I am 110/70. Every. Single. Time. You wanna calibrate that blood pressure cuff? Here, fire it up.” They took my blood pressure for the fifth time. 106/68. “There, see?” My awesome blood pressure didn’t make him happy though.

He asked me what happened and cross-examined me as I described the accident. Then suddenly he said, “Ok. Hey, I forgot what you said. Could you start again from the beginning? We need to make sure it’s nothing bad.” I gave him my coldest professor stare. Looking to my right, I saw a nurse about to draw blood from my arm. I laughed. Sneaky! So I played along, starting my story over, not looking at the nurse drawing blood.

“I endo’ed over the bars, perfect tuck and roll. No, I didn’t hit my head. I hit my elbow, the back of my shoulder, and my hip. Perfect, right? Yeah I continued for another 20 minu---- wait a sec.” The nurse was done and I saw that my right arm now had an IV port in it. “All right everyone, time out. Look.” I held up my right arm. “You don’t put this in someone who you’re about to send home. What’s going on? Level with me.”

“You need surgery. We don’t know what kind yet.” The doc (Dr. Kadakia at Northwestern) patiently explained that they could be conservative and wait and see, but the risk of necrosis was very high, my best odds of recovery were a surgical evacuation procedure, and if it were his leg… Surgery? Necrosis? This was a bruise! It wasn’t even a bruise!

But I saw that look of concern. “Cut it. Cut it. Do what you need to do.” Over the next two hours before surgery Eric and I did some reading and the docs explained the situation pretty well. The two things it could be were a deep hematoma or compartment syndrome, and compartment syndrome could develop from a deep hematoma if it wasn’t evacuated quickly. My mood was surreal as I contacted my parents, students, and friends. I was nervous about the surgery and very nervous about general anesthesia, but the surgery itself lasted only about 30 minutes. There was a deep hematoma and blood clot, and once they got that out everything looked fine. They inspected my calf muscles for signs of compartment syndrome or other damage and there weren’t any. I woke up delirious, hyperemotional and combative from the anesthesia but they said that is normal. As I came to my senses I could tell that Dr. Kadakia's team was relieved and very proud of the work they did. The docs were able to let me out of the hospital a day early, and I have been recovering on the couch ever since, keeping my leg elevated.

I am still bewildered by the fact that this thing seemed so minor. I’m coming to terms with the fact that the doctors’ “bad” literally meant possible loss of limb or even life. I understand that the orthopedic team was pleasantly surprised that my muscles had no signs of necrosis. They now feel that it is likely that I will recover full athletic function in my left leg in time, but it may require physical therapy and it may be a while. It’s hard to tell how strong the leg will be until I can use it, so I’m not setting any expectations for recovery yet. 

The doctors have assured me that this was a rare freak accident that was unlikely to occur in the first place and will almost certainly never recur. But we all play hard enough that freak accidents happen. I’m lucky that I listened to my husband, my intuition, and that excellent team of doctors. And right now, I love the fact that I can wiggle my toes and my foot a little and feel that the muscles in the back of the calf are there and they still work.

WORS Cup Short Track and Cross Country Races

It’s embarrassing to admit that my road season is over. Maybe it was the asthma and poor performance, maybe I just saw one crash too many and lost my nerve. Not sure. It ended very early. I know I barely raced this year compared to years past- 14 races total, but you can’t force motivation, it is either there or it’s not. Lots of roadies go through this and they come back hungrier than ever. I will too. At first even though I felt “done”, I had planned to do as many crits at ToAD and Prairie State as I could to support the local scene- (You should do this too! We all should! I hate the word “should”!)- but when I found myself counting them down (Six crits to go! Just Six crits!) I knew that it was time to pull the plug on the season.

I was not about to torture myself further by taking time off the bike. I already did that a bit before Northstar.  I also know from burnout experiences past that when it happens you’ve gotta change the game—not just put it down and pick it back up again. So on June 28 I was looking for something to do instead of moping around the house and beating myself up for bailing on the last couple ToAD crits, and I was looking for that game-changer. Kurt Breitenbucher invited folks to go riding mountain bikes at Kettle and I tagged along. It was me, Kurt, Lindsay, Trent, Badass Becky Mikrut, and Ellie Blick among a few others. I didn’t have a mountain bike and hadn’t been on one in many years, so I rented a Trek Lush from Backyard Bikes. It was a good bike- I named her Joline.

I didn’t know what I was doing on a mountain bike and still don’t, but I loved it from the start. I didn’t worry about anything except what was coming next on the trails, living, riding, responding moment to moment. I didn’t care whether I was fast or slow and still don’t, I was just taking what the trail gave me, using momentum, finding my line, sometimes clumsily jumping or saving a crash. I liked it so much the first time that on June 29 I rented Joline again and went riding with Kelly Clarke and Kelsey Phillips. I got poison ivy and concocted some soap for it in the lab that works ok… still tweaking the recipe.

On July 5, the following Saturday, I bought Ray- a Specialized Epic comp. I could write a blog post just about that, but suffice it to say that Johnny Sprockets really is the best bike shop in the entire universe. Ray is a rocket that fits me perfect. On July 6 I went to The Pretty Fast womens cycling group’s Dirt Days ride, at Kettle again. I rode up with Sarah Szefi, a fellow triathlete-gone-roadie-gone mountain biker? It was comforting riding with Szefi because she’s a steady wheel that I know. We’d glue up to each other’s wheels and then one of us would bobble, both of us would have to clip out, and we’d laugh about it. Great times.

This is Ray. He calls me "Baby".

 On July 11 and July 13 Szefi and I entered the WORS cup short track and cross country races at Cascade Mountain in Wisconsin. We went up there with Ronit Bezalel, Becky Mikrut, and John Cline.

Group photo of Sarah, Becky, Ronit, and me at the races, taken by Amy Dykema

Sarah and I were both completely new, but we both started as category 2 riders because of our road experience and fitness. We found mountain bike racers to be really friendly folks. All my stupid first-timer questions were answered and I felt at home.  There were people of all ages and all fitness levels there. The sport is similar to cross country skiing in that skill and finesse on the singletrack count for everything, so you can’t tell how a rider will perform by his or her age or apparent fitness. Getting schooled by more skilled riders was awesome.

Short track races happen on a relatively non-technical course with very little singletrack so that it is easy to pass. I thought of the short track race as a technical time trial on grass and trail, probably because I don't like cyclocross. But I'll admit, it is really very similar to cyclocross except for being fun. I did very well and got 2^nd place! Sarah got 3rd! It was our first podium in a long time, so we had John take a photo even though it was unofficial and we couldn't find the first place gal.

Note the impeccable roadie podium etiquette.

The cross country race was longer and more like a normal mountain bike trail ride, except that it was also a race. Cascade provided a challenging and beautiful venue as we wove our way up and down the ski hill. I started in kind of bad position thinking I’d be slower than I was, and ended up picking people off all race. I crashed pretty hard on the first lap but was totally unhurt because the ground was soft. On the second two laps I settled in and really worked the course, and it helped that Andy Sfekas and my hubby Eric were there watching and cheering. I ended up in 3^rd place overall. The Clif bar folks were awesome. I embarrassed myself by grazing on their free trials of the new Mojo bars before the cross country race, and afterward I won a box of Sierra Trail Mix bars. It’s a really good flavor.

First time I've ever hit the ground AND the podium.

Last weekend I went to Kettle again both Saturday and Sunday, the 19^th-20^th and rode over 50 miles. Skill-wise, the side-to-side motions (cornering and switchbacks) are coming along, but the forward-to-back skills like bunny hopping and pump tracking aren’t there yet. Both knees are bruised, I’ve got some pretty good scrapes, thorns from prickerbushes in personal places, and the poison ivy welts from last weekend are finally fading. I’m sore but I like the soreness. My arms, back, and core need to become stronger- you’ve gotta be more than a set of quads and lungs for this sport. Mentally I feel great after four very intense weeks of mountain biking. I’m getting better at cycling, developing better overall fitness, and having fun.

Northstar Grand Prix 2014: Chuck Makes it Right

We made it!

I wanted to do the Northstar Grand Prix for one selfish reason. Last year at Stillwater, the final stage, I caught a wheel and went down at the start line, taking two teammates down with me, breaking my bike and my tailbone. Details are here:

http://spidermonkeycycling.com/nature-valley-pro-chase/

Charlie's broken seatstay and rear derailleur

Suffice it to say it was awful. But in the months that followed, my butt healed, Manuel Tenorio at Johnny Sprockets convinced me to send my frame to Calfee for repair, and things got back to normal. Except that Stillwater hung over my head. I had to go back.

To get back there, I had to be invited because Northstar is only open by application to pro teams. Daphne Karagainis mentioned that she was guesting for Les Petite Victories. I asked her if they'd have a spot for me, and 2 days later they emailed back. I was in! LPV was an awesome host team. Jannette Roh and Cady Chintis took care of the details. They ran a fundraising campaign to offset some of the costs. We got free socks and caps, VERY sharp-looking kits, and water bottles with cute farting clouds on them from Tenspeed Hero.

SHARP-looking duds!!!

The highlight of this season has been going to the stage races at Joe Martin and Northstar, racing as a teammate with all the gals I usually mark as competitors- Daphne Karagainis, Ellen Ryan, Jannette, Cady, Sierra Siebenlist, Kelli Richter, Sarah Szefi, Cathy Frampton, and Leah Kleager.

But I had royally screwed up. I was catching every little cold that came along, not sleeping right, unable to concentrate, and moody--a textbook case of overtraining. I finally pulled the plug in mid-May in rather spectacular fashion, by smashing my Garmin with my fist during an interval set that I was too tired to do. I decided I did not like the angry, desperate athlete in the mirror. So I exchanged "taking a break" emails with my coach, withdrew from the race, took 4 weeks doing whatever I felt like, not racing. One week before the race, my legs and my body came back to life. I wanted back in. LPV was really cool about it. They let me back in. There was only one hitch- I had planned to go and drive the follow car, and we now needed a follow car driver. Eric, my freshly tenured at DePaul hubby, volunteered. To do that he had to renew his Cat5 USAC license, drive up to Minneapolis with us on Tuesday to get to the managers' meeting, take a cheap last minute flight back to Chicago to give his final exam at DePaul on Wednesday, then take the overnight Greyhound back to Minneapolis for the Thursday race. No problem, right? We were set.

Stage 1 TT:

The time trial was telling. I am a lot stronger this year than last year (25 watts up on my threshold, for you nerds). Last year I placed 49th/77 riders. I had a better TT this year, pacing well all the way till the end. I was not passed for the first time ever in an NRC stage race time trial (!)... But I was 81st/107 riders. So the women this year were stronger, faster, and there were a lot more of them. This is an exciting trend in womens' cycling, the fields are getting faster and faster at an incredible rate. I love seeing this, even though I am getting left behind.

Stage 2 St Paul Crit:

The St Paul crit is the same day as the time trial, late in the afternoon. It is the "selection"race. You have to finish at least half the race before getting pulled to continue in subsequent days, so this race usually takes off very fast and stays that way. The roads were bad, the course was short (0.7 mi), and it had a hairpin turn. 107 gals racing fast on that course was a recipe for a crash-fest- about 12 crashes total. I narrowly dodged 6 of them and made it till 2.5 to go, when I was caught behind another crash and gapped. I got pulled by the moto, and honestly was thankful to get off that crazy course in one piece. Unfortunately, Jannette had crashed and needed stitches in her leg. After all she’d done to make this happen it was terrible that she was out, but Jannette handled it like a total pro. She concentrated on making it happen for the rest of us all week. I can’t say how much I appreciated that.

Stage 3 Cannon Falls Road Race:

The next day was my 41st birthday, and the 97-mile Cannon Falls Road Race. 3 miles in just after the neutral start we went through a stretch of very deep fresh gravel. Tons of crashes all over the road, gals dismounting and running cyclocross-style through the mayhem. Ellen Ryan had had superb position going into the gravel, but she endo'ed hard over her handlebars and was too rattled by the crash to continue racing. Darn. My fat biking helped a lot- I kept it upright and didn't lose spots in that section, even though I was fishtailing everywhere. After the gravel we hit very hard wind. There was a moment of confusion with honking motos. We thought we were neutralized and slowed down, but then the motos waved us on. This created a gap that we would never bridge up to the leaders, less than 10 miles into the race. I worked very hard on the initial chase and was hurting bad early on. I could not keep food down. The race wore on, tempers were hot (including mine, sorry if you were there), and the field got shredded in the wind. Eric was a superb follow car driver. He kept on top of the team to keep us in there on a bad day. He got warned for motopacing, but not fined (this is really pro). About 50 miles in I was motopacing with a Colavita rider in a tiny group of 5 riders, nauseated, behind a recycling truck. I seriously thought of pulling out, it had never been this bad. But then I saw her tattoo- Love stamp. It was Lindsay Bayer. Lenore Pipes was just behind us. I made sure Lenore stayed on, and Lindsay towed us the entire way home from there. I’ve never seen stronger riding by anyone in my whole life. All I could do was hang on and say thank you at the end, so that’s what I did. Working together with Lindsay and Lenore paid off. In subsequent races they'd give me spots and verbal encouragement, working with me here and there. Having friends made things much easier. Making friends with two of my biggest racing heroes was awesome. Cady and Jannette got me an obnoxiously good chocolate birthday cake. Sometime after the race my stomach straightened up, and it was the most delicious thing I ever ate.

Favorite birthday cake flavor? Obnoxious Chocolate.

Stage 4: Minneapolis crit.

Our team had planned to use the first 3 stages to determine whether we might be contenders for the green amateur jersey. If we were, we'd protect the lead rider. If not, we would race the Minneapolis crit aggressively for the win. At the end of the first 3 stages, I was our top amateur GC rider--  which definitely meant that we were going in aggressive and our cornering skills would be useful. I was doing well, very chill pace, about mid-pack and doing zero work until the halfway point. Riders who made it halfway were allowed to continue the next day, so after that point I decided to turn it up and fight for a good result. There was a huge crash on the back side of the course.  I avoided it and sprinted up to the leaders, counting only about 20 helmets in front of me. This would be very good if we weren't neutralized! But we were, and that meant going from a very hard pace to a dead stop. I had a bad asthma attack as soon as we stopped. Coughing, gasping, I turned around to show the officials my number, left the race, and went to the medical tent. I got great care but I still think about this and burn… words can’t really express my frustration with the asthma. I couldn't feel too sorry for myself though, because our LPV team had another stroke of bad luck. Daphne got caught in an early crash, and the pit wheel she got was scraping her brake hard. She didn't realize it, fell off the back, and got pulled one lap before the halfway point. The officials told her she should have taken a second free lap but did not let her back in to complete the stage race. This was a cruel lesson. Three races in, three team members down.

Stage 5: Menomonie road race

Menomonie is an 84-mile, hilly road race. My lungs were still on fire and I could not talk well. The only reason I even started Menomonie was because we only had 3 riders left, and we needed 3 riders to have a follow car. It had rained, and that took some of the cottonwood out of the air but I was not breathing well. There was an early crash. I had to clip out to avoid Whitney Schultz of Colavita, who went down hard right in front of me. She was in a daze on the road so I turned my bike in front of her and lingered a bit to make sure no one hit her. I thought I might be out at that point, but gals who were there chased back on and let me sit in. Somehow inexplicably the pace was reasonable all the way until the second major climb, when the pack split. I knew better to try to catch the front group with my lungs like that. In the pace group we were out of contention so the pace was slow, just fast enough to make the time cut. My teammate Cady Chintis was taking pulls, a lot of the gals knew I had had an asthma attack the day before or saw me protect Whitney, and they also knew I usually do my work. Friends are good- everyone let me sit in the back. I counted down the miles the whole way home and made it. I was so happy. At the start of that race I could not have seen myself making it to the finish- I gave myself a 5% chance- but I was there, and Charlie and I would race Stillwater the next day.

Stillwater, Stage 6:

Stillwater has an 18% grade hill, followed by a wicked descent into a tight turn. It is a survival, where many riders do not make it even halfway through the race before being pulled. With so many crashes and the time cuts, 27 women had dropped out of our race before Stillwater. It thunderstormed hard all night, and it was supposed to thunderstorm during the race. I was terrified, but very very focused and hungry to make it through. I went to see Sue Kakuk, who is marketing her wonderful Kakookies. I bought a bunch and she gave me some for my birthday. It was great to see Jennifer Reither too. She was managing the Kakookies Collegiate All-Star team, and they were performing phenomenally with the top two amateur GC riders. Two green jerseys in two years speaks to Jen's talent as a team manager. The sun came out while we were on the line and it stayed out through the race. The start was tricky, gals were bumping on the way up the hill. I could see how I went down the year before. But I made it up. I was breathing like a train, lungs burning, but I kept at it, up and down. You had to make it 4 laps to be placed in the stage race and I will never forget crossing the line after Lap 4. I had done it. I kept at it, taking 4 more crazy victory laps before getting pulled.

Climbing Chilkoot Hill

Believe me, I know it is random luck that enabled me to get back to Stillwater and finish it. But it did wonders for my confidence. I've crashed twice in my entire career, and the fact that I didn't go down at all during NSGP...  you can call me Qantas. And I am a really good crit racer, especially in corners. That said, it’s not lost on me that I didn’t finish a single stage at Northstar with the front group. The day is coming soon when I won't have the power to ride in stage races at all without being cut, and at my best after 9 months of 6 days/week training, I lack the power and the lungs to be useful to big teams. How do I feel about this? I love it. I love seeing womens bike racing getting faster and faster. I know I’m fast, I know I’m good at this. And I love being left in the dust by new, fast, exciting pro womens bike racers. This sport is on fire and I got a front-row seat for 5 days. I’ll never forget that.

I rode to coffee with BriBri Ellison the day after the race, about 5 very easy miles. He gave me good advice: "Go slower.... You never ride like this, do you? You need to take it easy sometimes, go for coffee, every workout is not 'the angry hour'. It's your hobby, enjoy it. If you wanna shred, race, but y'know, just...ride." Yup.

Fat Bike Birkie 2014

Fat Bike Birkie:

I’m super grateful to my husband Eric for putting up with this fat bike thing all winter, and especially for getting us the Bavarian Suite at Garmisch- fancy digs for the Fat Bike Birkie! And if you have never done a ski, bike, or running race up in the Cable/Hayward, WI area, you must go. These are the best run races you will ever find, with the friendliest volunteers on the planet. Sign up, because the secret is out and these races sell out. Link is here:

http://www.birkie.com/

I aimed high for the Fat Bike Birkie, wanting to hit the podium. I also set that goal before they announced it was a national championship, and that brought out serious talent from the mountain biking community. Guess what--- I still hit the podium, AND I met some really awesome women who race bikes really fast- like Danielle Musto, whose awesome blog convinced me to buy a fat bike in the first place. Link here-

http://daniellemusto.blogspot.com/

Race day was one of those rare, perfect days when I set a race strategy and executed it exactly as planned and it worked beautifully. The neutral start predictably wasn’t neutral. Someone crashed in front of me and as I Houdini’ed around it like the roadie I am, others saw it and took off- FAST. I tucked in with big, fast dudes and took the first 20-30 minutes of the race at full gas, surfing to the fastest dudes I could keep up with. I cooled it to a high tempo pace till the halfway point. I love racing with men, especially big ones. I could tuck in behind them where they shielded me from all wind and hardly knew I was there, then mercilessly pop them on the climbs and search for the next, even stronger victim. It was going well.

At the halfway point the gal in 6th place (Patti Schmidt) saw me coming up. She was the only woman I saw after about 1/4 of the race. After she saw me she sped up but I caught on, and we spent a while beating the crap out of each other. Eventually we had a steep climb, my tires slipped and I had to run it, and I lost enough time that Patti found a couple dudes up the way and got away. Darn.

With about 30 minutes left the race was a net downhill. I TT’ed in a steady, hard effort. It was broken up by one gnarly hairpin turn that I took a little too fast, so I had to powerslide it with my inside foot down, slinging snow off my tires like an 8-year old. The spectators loved it, I did too. Especially since I did not fall. I pressed on, emptying the tank, picking dudes off. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Looked back with 1/2 mile to go, to see all 5 of those dudes working together to catch me. I was red-lined but their train shattered after they caught me and I passed 4 of them before the finish by sprinting till I nearly blacked out just because I could. Yup.

Here's a photo:

https://www.facebook.com/AmericanBirkebeiner/photos/a.10151998706231173.1073741877.70518401172/10151998720071173/?type=1&theater

I finished 7th woman overall, 3rd age 40-50... as a roadie party-crasher from Chicago who showed up on a stock Surly Pugsley. Best exchange: “Where do you train?” –“In my living room”. Mountain bikers are super friendly though. The gals who finished near me were telling me about races and rides I should do, “Yeah it’s a hundred miler in Michigan- you can just sleep on my couch, just friend me on facebook…” That is what I love about bike racing, and it’s magnified 10-fold in the mountain biking community. 

Another highlight was having a beer and the largest bratwurst I have ever seen after the race. Yes- you got that right, largest bratwurst I have ever seen. Remember I am from Wisconsin. It was too obscene to post a picture on a public blog so you will just have to do the race next year and get your own brat.

Here’s a photo of me on the podium for women 40-50 years old. The gal on the top step is Rebecca Rusch, the Queen of Pain!

I won a beer glass.

After the podium, Rebecca shook my hand. She looked me in the eye and said, “You’re going to do this now, right?” referring to racing fat bikes and mountain bikes. I stared at her like a fish, with my mouth and eyes wide open. We all know the answer to her question.

Joe Martin Stage Race

Joe Martin Stage Race report

This is pretty late. Joe Martin was my first big NRC race series of the year, in Fayetteville, AR.

Really all I want to say in this report is 2 things. #1, Thanks to all the awesome folks who got me there and supported me (Katie Kolon, Psimet Racing, Elliston Coaching, and Osmo Nutrition) and #2, Thanks to all those folks back home who thought so highly of me as a racer that they thought I’d do well there. Wow, I never knew how good a racer you thought I was. I’m flattered that you thought I was that good. Really.

I never would have gotten there if it hadn’t been for my fearless teammate Katie Kolon, who drove with me in her car all the way down there and whose friend Annie in Fayetteville offered us a place to stay. Katie wrote a race report too, and you should read it because it’s better than mine. It’s here:

 http://spidermonkeycycling.com/joe-martin-stage-race/

Joe Martin starts with an uphill time trial, followed by two uphill road races and a final, exciting uphill crit. I practiced my uphills to prepare for the race, but probably should have gone up a few more hills because I got my butt kicked all weekend.

The TT is a mind-bender. It starts flat, so you start hammering. Then it goes up at about 7% grade for the rest of it. Everyone feels like they go out and die on it, and they think they totally implode and mess it up. Especially me, since that is what I really do. And really did. I hate to admit that I was a little sloppy. Warmup too long, no aero stuff, what the heck I just did it. Lesson learned: you can’t be a little sloppy when you race former Olympians. Or you end up in 46^th place. Ouch.

Recovery from JMSR TT in the COLD stream nearby

For the road races my goal was to stay in the front group. Both times I got popped off into the chase group.  I’ll say something positive first: it was fun riding with my strong Chicago rivals-turned-teammates in these road races. Now I’ll say what I am really thinking. Chase groups aren’t fun. You ride along at cruising speed because your race is over, you’re done, saving it for tomorrow, and your brain burns hot remembering that moment when you needed to be up front. Remembering that one cruel moment when you lost the group and lost the race.

I have to give a shout-out to Psimet here for impressive assistance on these road races. Every.single.rider.on.the.team had a mechanical, and they got us all back in there. No DNFs. No one time cut. Plenty of wheels, thank goodness- it pays to be sponsored by the best wheelbuilder you have ever heard of. Seriously, I’ve never seen any pro team’s support crew tested like that, not in the races I have done or even the ones I have watched on TV. Rob, Leah, and Bill just kept on like it was a normal day. 5-second wheel change after 5-second wheel change, no big deal. I was kind of bummed about all the mechanicals, but it was cool to watch these folks- folks I know! Rob Curtis! Leah Sanda! And to see that they could be THAT pro.

Crit day should have been super fun, but I woke up coughing bad with allergies. I saw the pollen pooling on the ground and knew that it would not be my day. It was one of those rare days when my mental outlook was so bad, the best thing I could do was hide it from my teammates.

Hiding it.

 I think I hid it OK- Bill noticed but the others didn’t. But the crit went wrong from the start line on. I lined up in back, got caught in a near-crash on the first corner, chased for 5 laps, and was exhausted after that- a victim of a toxic combination of asthma, pollen, and my own early season stupidity. I was pulled pretty early.

I did a write-up on Osmo nutrition, which was great stuff. That’s here:

http://www.psimet.com/blog/osmo-nutrition/

And that's it! So yeah, I made a ton of early season mistakes. Got 'em all out of the way. But nonetheless, it was great to ride with strong Chicago gals and represent as rivals-turned-teammates, and we had the best pro support of any team ever.