Sunday, May 31, 2009

I think an endo still counts...

... even if there's no one in the woods to see you do it.

The last time I endo'd my mountain bike, it was in full view of Shea and at least 4 other riders. Shea and I were out for a training ride last year at Loch Raven - I for some reason thought that following him over what some would call a bump, but really is a pile 'o dirt meant to be jumped. At speed. Without jumping. And then I was flying. So was my bike - it wound up a ways ahead of me and I lost a bit of skin to a little tree that I cuss at every time I pass now. I landed flat on my back, and the honey packet in my jersey packet exploded - lovely, so now in pain with sticky bee bait running down my bum. It's been a while - I was due for a crash.

Today, we were racing in Delaware. I'm still racing baby, I mean, beginner class, mostly because I'm still slow. It was the first race that was truly fun lately. I've been riding a lot and running when not riding, so my fitness is better than it was for the earlier races this year. Anyway, I also set two very simple goals for myself - eat by 40 minutes into the race and don't go out too hard - I wanted to have a faster lap time for the second lap than the first. After a terrible start, I was behind some riders having trouble with the mud. Probably didn't matter - two women who were destined to be off the front were by the time I cleared all of the crashing women and got to passing crashing men who had started before us. I was feeling pretty good - the course there is reasonably technical and muddy - confidence from the mud fest at Michaux a few weeks ago helped a lot. I also learned during the Michaux race that riding up a muddy hill is always faster than walking up it (unlike dry hills, where I can sometimes run/walk faster than ride).

Somewhere very near the end of the second lap, after having no major body on ground experiences, I felt my front wheel come off of a wet root sideways and felt myself unable to save it. As I realize I'm crashing, I do the really dumb thing of reaching out with my hands to break my fall. And proceed to land on my face/forehead/helmet. Oh well, at least there wasn't any mud in my eyes. Somehow, I was laying under my bike, which had landed upsidedown - resting on the handlebars and seat - and my left foot was still clipped in. Hmph. That sucked. Got up - bike okay, me okay, pulled mud from helmet and rode on, with slightly less abandon. I wound up 2nd, my first true podium in a while (turns out one of the women off the front was in the other age class). Several women DNF'd - not going out for the second lap at all. Good times. Felt like a cyclocross morning - warming up and registering in the rain. Can't wait for 'cross season...

Saturday, May 30, 2009

Catching up with friends...

One of our favorite couples from Utah showed up in D.C. this weekend with time in their very busy schedule for dinner with us. After a cultural drive through the Northwest district (seriously, how can a salon "Specialize in ALL types of hair?"), we made our way to 9th and U for Ethiopian food. Having lived in Utah for 6 or so years, I can completely appreciate their desire for ethnic cuisine. There is not a single Ethiopian restaurant in the metropolis of Salt Lake City. Which means there's also not a single one probably until you get to Vegas... Hands down, though, the Mexican food is better out west. From street tacos to moles, even guacamole is better there...

But back to Ethiopian. It's one of the few types of food that I really don't know how to order. Everything looks good on the menu, but then the food comes out and some dishes are saucy, others just meat. Luckily, we were smart enough to ask the waitress for help ordering, so we wound up with a mix of both. Also luckily, the food took FOREVER to get to our table. I was starving, but so enjoy catching up with the Smurfs. They regaled us with stories of their three boys, including how their oldest wants a BMX bike for his 5th birthday. They claim it won't be as cool as his friend's.... peer pressure before elementary school, wow. Wish we were still there to hang with them and enjoy their kids growing up...

Sadly or happily, since we moved from Utah, they have taken up cycling. Papa Smurf is riding the MS150 in a few weeks, and Mrs. Smurf is lobbying for a road-bike of her own (her mountain bike and off road triathlon skills are better than his anyway!). Papa Smurf is looking particularly good for the effort. They also travel more than anyone I know. Ireland, Hawaii, D.C. ... when they talk of a cycling trip in Italy - oooo... Italian food I know how to order... I have so much respect for their talent at balancing themselves as individuals and a couple with the challenges of raising a family.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Introducing the Muddy Skier

Alright, so I guess this makes it official - my blog starts. I intend it to be somewhat intelligent - comments about skiing, my progress as a slow, muddy bike racer, what I'm cooking lately and perhaps the occasional serious post with some opinion about science in the popular press.

Why call it the Muddy Skier? Well, that's as clever as I get. I'm a mountain biking chick with a tendency to get muddier than everyone else and a skiing chick stuck in the mid-atlantic - I trek through the mud to teach many a weekend in the winter.

Riding at Patapsco with good friends last Sunday - a fun group of ski instructors and associates. As we're headed back, I saw a park ranger and had a comment to share, so I stopped him. Several minutes later, I managed to convince him and his co-ranger guy that no, I was not, in fact, in need of water to clean up the dried blood all over my legs. Seriously - are my legs really that white that a little mud looks like crusty bodily fluids?