looks good on paper, but...

I wrote most of this post right after Cap Cross in December but just didn't feel okay posting it yet.  I just finished it and here ya go.

 What I learned about cyclocross this weekend: I love the gals we race with.  What a good group.

Cap Cross. Two years ago it was icy.  Three years ago, so windy that popups were rolling through the parking lot.  This year - sunny, 55 degrees, perfect weather to spend outside all day.  Technical course with a bunch of power sections.  Awesome fun downhill.

Toeing the line with 16 other women.  How cool is that?!  We're routinely getting elite fields >10 in the region now.

I had a good start, coming off the second row and sitting about 5th heading onto the grass.  Hoping to make the early selection and stay in the draft across the bridge.  A rider ahead of me started to wobble. I went wide.  She went down, so did the gal behind her.  I looked over and in a split second when I normally would say something to the effect of, "C'mon Erin, get back on it, let's go," I saw pain.  Not sure how my brain knew it other than instinct, seeing as I was already almost seeing stars from the start.  A half a beat later, a wail of excrutiating pain.  Crap.  I checked my speed a bit. Talked to the woman behind me.  But kept going.  I'm not sure what else to do.  But I couldn't get my head back into it.  Couldn't go as hard as I can nor as aggressive.

By the time we got to the end of the lap, they neutralized the race.  The ambulance was immobilizing a badly broken ankle.

We milled around.  As a group, we decided to basically parade the restart without contesting.  Didn't mean we went slow, but we didn't pass aggressively, sprint, or do anything particuarly competitive.  The cash for the day went to Erin - a group decision - to cover her deductible. 

I've decided it's okay that this affects me - upsets me even.  She's a friend and we were doing what we love.  It's okay to lose the killer instinct for a couple hours.  That's why we love the community.

Update: Erin is just now spinning with no resistance.  She's got some extra metal in that ankle, but will be back next year, no doubt.

mud is coming

I'm racing elite this year.  I still don't feel "elite" or "expert" at this bike racing thing, but it's where I belong.  I even looked at lap times to convince myself of that.

I got a new-to-me bike this year.  Yeah, I know, did that last year, too. But, I own two sweet cross bikes instead of a sweet cross bike and a sexy road bike.  The Santa Cruz and I have seen a lot of road time together in the last year and will continue to even though it spends its time during races in the pit.

Anyway, new-to-me bike, a handmade Alan from Italy that a teammate sold me came with sweet wheels (it's actually the one pictured in the link!).  So I had a conundrum - two sets of carbon race wheels.  And I did what any respectable cyclocrosser would do.  I got mud tires. With the new Challenge Limus glued up on some Zipp 303's, I expected we'd have a completely dry season, just like last year when I was busy earning upgrade points to make the jump into the big girls category.  Yeah, that's right, I got all those upgrade points without a single speck of mud on my bike.

That was until remnants of a hurricane rained out my last mountain bike race.  We went to Nittany CX instead, where instead of gently dipping my toe into the elite water at a local race, I jumped in head first with the Euro pros in a UCI field.  Wait, did I mention it rained the week before Nittany?

That mud was disgusting.  Smelled like cow.... well, let's just say I was thrilled there were showers.  I love the new bike.  I love the mud tires.  I rode well and decided it's pretty cool we get to ride our bikes through mud puddles for fun.  Shea stripped the new bike to the frame when we got home.  He claimed I'd gotten grass and mud inside the rear hub. Can't imagine how...

Last weekend was Charm City, a little pair of UCI races a mile from our house.  I'm sure there will be more here about Charm City, but for now... it's raining again.  Just in time to make some mud for Tacchino...

Thanks to Shea, Diedre and Karl Connolly for the pics.

getting it back

In June, I was sort of to rather sick for nearly 3 weeks.  For three days at the beginning, I just laid on the couch or stared at the wall.  Coach said I couldn't ride until I could walk 15 minutes.  Lyme test came back negative, after they lost it once.  Who knows what I had, but I was struggling to get 1500 calories a day during a time in the year where normally I'm struggling not to inhale everything I see.  I lost 10 pounds in two weeks.  I DNF'd from two races in one weekend.  I didn't get stronger. 

I'm keeping my weight down (sometimes, you should look a gift horse in the mouth!) because it feels good.  But getting my legs back took longer than I expected and I was pissed about it.  Just about two weeks ago, I started to feel pep in my step again.  Two weeks ago we said goodbye to my dog, sending him to puppy heaven if there is such a place and if there isn't, letting him rest forever on a farm in Pennsylvania without the pain of a huge tumor in his head.

Sunday, we raced at Michaux.  That race report will come.  Soon.


In the meantime, here's what I've learned lately.  My emotional well-being directly impacts my marriage and my training.  Whew, there, I said it.  Doesn't matter how tough I was prettending to be.  I think I was really frustrated about the setback in training from being sick and even more overwhelmed dealing with a dying pet.  I took it out on my husband, my coach, my other dog, perhaps most of all, myself.  Some days, I took it out on the bike and got good training in.  Other days, I wound up sitting in the grass on the side of the road, crying about not wanting to ride.  One day, I nearly did that mountain biking even though I was with good friends at one of my favorite places to ride.

I got some of it back at Fair Hill.  Had a good day on the bike where my body didn't revolt.  Got a bit of confidence back.  I've had a few great days on the bike plus a few really crappy ones thrown in since then. 

I don't quite have my edge back for racing.  The "killer instinct".  The feeling of always being chased and chasing.  But I'm getting there.  I trust my body again.  I'm starting to trust my head.  The rest will come.  Which is especially good because cross season is approaching quickly.

2 x 1 = 2 (aka belated Rockburn race report)

Only a few people read this blog - it's mostly for me and I look back at it as a journal when I need to.  I left you last time on a cliff hanger of sorts - heading into the second day of a double weekend of cross racing, wondering if I had the mental and physical fortitude to win twice.  Of course, pretty much everyone who reads this blog is also facebook friends with me or was at the race and knows the answer.

Rockburn.  Two years ago I had a crap race here, even though we were promoting it.  Shea and I flew in that morning from New York, having gotten laid over coming back from Spain after a week of mountain bike riding followed by a single night of true debauchery.  Last year, Rockburn was in the part of the season where everyone else was getting faster and I was just getting frustrated.

This year - 13 or so Cat 3's to the line.  A flowy course with some climbs, singletrack, a sand pit that required attention.  I had a good start but Katy came by me on the ramp onto the grass.  I sat on her wheel through the sand but just didn't want to go that slowly on the next technical sections - her strength is power from the road but I can cook her sometimes in the corners.  I burned a couple matches passing her on the next straightaway, getting around on the inside as we curled down the hill onto singletrack.

First lap singletrack.  Photo: Joe Mallis

And that was that.  I was off the front. Again.  But this time (unlike pretty much every other time, and there have been a lot this season and last), I didn't doubt myself.  At Rockburn, the challenge was for me - could I prove to myself that I was strong enough, tough enough to ride perfectly and fast... again.

Photo: Samantha Rynas

The Kelly crew was cheering loudly.  I barely heard them.  I was in a different place.  The one where all you see is the grass in front of you, the only thoughts were when to shift and which foot needed to be down for the next corner... (okay, once over the barriers I let myself think my bike was heavy, then remembered that it isn't and chided myself for being a wimp). 

Photo: teammate Galen Wallace

The announcer was butchering my easy-to-pronounce last name.  By the 4th lap, my teammates were calling me that as well.  I had a 45 second gap and managed to crack a smile... The guys would tell me later that I got a good part of that gap climbing on the first lap.  I don't believe them, but it would be cool if I had.

Two Kelly women on the Podium!  Jen will be faster than me in no time.  Photo: Samantha Rynas

 

 

In 'cross - you win twice in respectable fields, you upgrade or get upgraded.

Yikes, cat 2 in 'cross!

Next year, hanging with the big girls.  Well, they aren't big. They are just wicked fast.

...the one where I finally won...

Some people win their first cross race.  Others win sometime in their first season.  Others never win.  That wasn't me, though.  I didn't start racing cross with a couple seasons of road racing or triathlon fitness under my belt.  And half a mountain bike race season didn't really count.   My first year I got lapped at nearly every race.  I've been on the podium and in the front of the field more times than I care to count this year and last without sealing the deal.  I raced 42 cross races in three seasons before this weekend.

I stayed home to race locally and help out at Schooley Mill and Rockburn (aka the HoCoCx2x).  It's a Cat 3 field only, but I hadn't treated the last couple MABRA races as priorities and mechanical'd at one of them, so I really didn't know where my legs would be against the field.  But as it turned out, it would be the weekend my legs and head came together to put me (and the season) where I wanted.

Saturday - Schooley Mill

An early start, I spent most of the morning at registration or taking podium pics and handing out prizes, really trying to be ass-in-chair-with-legs-up whenever possible.  Shea finished his race and took over the prize-doling tasks and I got into my normal pre-race routine.  I didn't love the power-friendly course on my pre-rides.  I wanted more turns, something technical to give my handling skills an advantage.  My efforts Friday during setup to encourage more turns had added a few, but not enough. Bernie came for a visit as I was finishing my trainer warmup and offered to take my Bianchi to the pits.  Karl pinned my number on for me.  Someone showed up at the start line to take my jacket.

In a field of only 10, I had a front row start and wanted the first lap prime for the leader of our race - a t-shirt from friend and team sponsor Jason at Woof Cycling.  We were off.  I had the start I wanted and the holeshot onto the grass.  The field stayed together through the first chicanes and off cambers until we hit the first climb.  I punched it and got a bit of a gap.  By the time we hit the barriers, the gap had grown to about 5 seconds over current series leader Katy.  I knew she was probably the one to watch for - we've gone back and forth the few times we've race together this year.  I focused on a smooth set of barriers, egged on by the announcer, Chris Mayhew, who did quite a lot of coaching my remounts in August at cross camp.  It sounded like the entire Kelly team was in the pits nearby.

Past the barriers, through some turns, then onto doubletrack.  An easy place to slack off and lose time - no spectators were out there yelling at me to dig deep.  But, my head was in a great place.  I was focused on one thing - going as fast as I could and still racing a technically perfect (or at least, passable) race.  Big ring - on more than one lap I was near the top of my cassette.

An S-curve off camber section and then I was already down by the pond, trying not to notice Galen and his camera, who I have a habit of crashing in front of.   I came through after the first lap (getting the prime!) with a sickening realization - I had a 10 second gap on the field that I wanted to hold and the lap cards went up indicating I had another 4 laps to go.  In a season where many of our races have gotten cut short (I've raced as little as 32 minutes for a "40 minute race"), I was gonna be out there for at least 46.  That's nearly 50% longer for you math geeks.

Surprisingly, I settled into my pace and was loving the turns at speed.  I wasn't that much slower than my first lap and was a little faster than those behind me.  I heard my name and gap times shouted all over the course.  At the bottom of the hill, the C3 gang reminded me to power up it.  I reminded myself that I can rest on Monday.  Coach Rodger urged me through some turns and into the big ring on the doubletrack.  I could see Katy, but I could see she was pretty much in the same place every lap.  Every time I hit the first S turn, she was heading up the little steep hill.  Every time by the horse jumps she was rounding left as I stood to climb.  On the last lap she closed a bit, but I held on for my first cross win.  Even without where I placed, it was one of my best races of the year.

I rolled through the finish (with one hand off the bars - didn't trust myself for both and clearly hadn't practiced!), about to be corraled by my own husband to the podium.  Ken (another LSVer) who was marshalling said, "That's a hard way to win a race."  Well, I wouldn't know as that's the only way I've done it.

I gave Shea, Rodger and a couple others hugs, then started to cramp.  Spinning over behind the building, I nearly started to cry.  Here's the thing, yeah, I am more than psyched that I met a goal I worked so hard for.  But it was even better to do it in front of the hometown crowd - the guys who taught me the love of this crazy sport.  Where, literally, nearly everyone knew my name.

After all the congrats'ing, Bill from In The Crosshairs interviewed me.  See it here.  Maybe I should always eat donut holes.  For some reason, other pics from the race are sorta sparse.

About 4 hours later doubt set it.  Could I do it again? Would I be able to muster up the mental intensity to be that hungry again?  Two days in a row?

... to be continued...

....quiet until the elusive w...

Tacchinio, Photo: Tracy Pafel

I've skipped writing about a few races of late.  At Fair Hill, I put a gap on the field on the first lap only to get blown away by my own inability to sustain the pace.  Still had a good race, but was 4th, one off the podium in what would be a theme for the weekend.  I also raced the elite race.  And was 14th. It hurt.  Sunday, on some very tired legs, I dragged myself up the Tacchinio hills to 5th in a field where I expected to be further up.  Prizes went to 3rd, 13th, and 3rd, respectively.  Luckily, my teammate Bernie came along and we giggled our way through the tandem race.  Okay, he pedaled, I giggled. 

Photo: Galen Wallace

Last weekend - no racing.  I needed the downtime but was starting to have doubts.  One of my season's goals last year was to win.  I didn't.  That meant one of my season goals this year was to win.  And I just wasn't doing it.

The MAC series is great - big fields, racing for every spot, good people.  And the series finale was in New York this weekend.  I wanted to go.  Sort of.  There were carbon wheels on the line for the series winner and I was in third going into the weekend.  Mathematically unlikely, but possible. 

But my team was promoting one of the two races this weekend that are 45 minutes or less from my house.  I decided to give up any vampire-like tendencies and race at home.  No sneaking off into the woods of a MAC race for me.  We hosted the registration binder assembly party and supervised prize distribution and podiums. I got to hang out with my teammates for a race they'd done most of the hard planning work for already.  Registration, course set up, tear down, etc etc etc. all went off with nary a hitch - great job LSV and BBC.

An aside...
Dear racers who I had to tell more than once that prizes could not be distributed until results were final (particularly any Masters' B riders who asked more than twice in 5 minutes - there are at least two of you),

I don't make the rules.  They are there for a reason - namely that if results aren't final, the wrong people get the wrong stuff.  I can't even change the rules if you have a birthday party to go to and didn't plan on being on the podium. Though I think you did because you raced down from the elite masters today so you could go to said birthday party. And when you hover around me while I'm trying to do a podium for the race that just finished, it's distracting.  And then I forget to do the Juniors podium, and the cyclocross dads of the world give me dirty looks.  As if I did it on purpose.  As if I wasn't horrified with myself and apologetic.  As if I were getting paid for corralling skinny guys in spandex onto a podium to get their portraits with my little camera.  So, impatient masters' riders, be happy we had results up faster than almost every other race you've attended this year.  (And only once was there a protest.  All day.  A++ to the officials.  But imagine if there had been a protest in your race?)  Be happy that I know the prize value at our race was more than triple what you've gotten at some others so when you got your prize bag within an hour of the end of your race, you could smile again.  Be happy I didn't tell you to go find some guy named Joe in a black shirt for your prizes.  Be happy that Ms. Rock can't get her hands on you to write "vampire" somewhere conspicuous in permanent marker.


But seriously, thanks for coming to our race and congrats on doing well. Thanks to the many people who appreciated the jobs I did on Saturday before my race.  Especially the guy who did so as I was rolling to the line for my race Sunday.

Sincerely,
your juniors-podium-forgetting day-of-registration-collector reg-binder-assembly-cook promoting-team-racer-chick prize-distributor.


So that was Saturday.  Well, that wasn't all of Saturday.  I raced.  This is already long, so that will be another story. 

But others raced too, and, for one of them, his body gave out for a bit.  He was ahead of some MDs in his race that did what anyone would - stopped their own anaerobic effort and helped.  Everyone worried as the sirens came and went.  The police took his bike into evidence. We were all reminded of how precious life is and how much we should enjoy the good moments.   Thankfully, we were all relieved several hours later to hear promising updates on his condition.  Still very serious, but not as bad as we feared in the moment.  We are all a community and share a common love - of racing our bikes so hard it hurts.
 

mud

For a blog named "muddy skier", there hasn't been much mud lately.  In fact, we haven't take a hose to the bikes yet this 'cross season.  Sand in the shifters, check.  Dust so thick it clogs my nose for days after a race (Charm City, Cincinnati, Nittany, even DCCX), check.

It's November.  It's a Thursday.  It's raining.  I'm hopeful.  Bring on the mud.

In other news, the snowmaking ponds at resorts all over the east are filling up.  Much needed rain.  Luckily I don't live in Vermont, or I'd have to choose between skiing and 'cross right now.  Word is - Killington's open.

the wall

If I'm honest, I hit the wall for cross a bit this weekend.  I came home last night disappointed. 

Not in my finishes per se (7th at Beacon, 8th at HPCX, though I was definitely up there hoping for better), but disappointed because it felt like there was something left in my legs.  I forgot my pain button a few times.  I felt whiny to myself warming up about pushing it, even.  It took me at least a minute to pull my head back after a crash yesterday and get back on the gas.  Saturday the pain was definitely there on the running sections, but there were a few straightaways back in the woods where I eased up a bit without realizing it until I was in the next turn.  Chatting with one of the elite women yesterday after my race, I felt better knowing that I wasn't the only one who forgets to go hard sometimes.

Last weekend at DCCX, I rolled a tubular (which feels a bit like a rite of passage in cross... it's firmly reglued now).  I managed a reasonable enough chase effort that I cracked on the last lap and was passed by a few other women. Where was that intensity this weekend? Am I mid-season burnt?  Training has taken a lot of mental effort lately, too, even though all I think about is cross.


At least I didn't crash myself this weekend.  Saturday was clean, even with all the running I only overcooked one corner and had to put a foot down.  I wound up in a tangle on Sunday when the wheel I was on went down, but managed not to have big technical mental errors myself.  Even had the best pass of my season near the pits - inside line through a 180 turn, railing the bike. I'll take that positive into a chilly Monday morning.

the one where I needed my teammates

DCCX.

Last year, I had magic legs at DCCX and had a blast.  It's one of the only (maybe THE only) MABRA race I'm doing this year - it's the local series, but the competition is deeper elsewhere right now in the Cat 3 women's fields.  That said, this being the biggest race of the series, it was as stacked as it could be with 15 of us in the Cat 3's.

Good start - right where I wanted to be with a rider off the front by a few seconds but catchable.  My goal, have a clean first lap.  I did.  It was fast and clean.  Lap 2 was also pretty solid.  But on lap 3, I was rounding the corner toward team row, an off camber, dusty right hand turn with some roots, when all of the sudden... you guessed it... I was crashing.  Again.  It felt like I was gonna save it.  I clipped out on the inside and almost had it.  Then I hit a bump or something and it all went wrong again.  In a split second that felt like slow motion, I was under my bike, under the tape.  Again.  Sorta like Granogue.

Banged up but fine, when I got up my rear wheel wasn't moving... a quick check, damn, I'd rolled the tire partway off and it was stuck in the frame - I pulled it back on and got going.  Now, I should say that Shea was in the team tent area, about as far away from the pits as you can imagine on this course.  Eric was standing right next to me having watched the whole thing.  He'd put my bike in the pits for me and knew where it was.  By the time I got to the pits at a slightly conservative speed, they were both there having sprinted to help me get the bike change achieved.

A lap later, they were yelling I could have my bike back.  Hmm.... I don't have a spare carbon wheel with a 10speed cassette on it.  Did they know I'd rolled it?

Well, of course they did.  But this is where Charly comes into play.  He'd run to his car to grab his race wheel and had it on my bike that quickly.  After another Becky-is-on-the-ground snafu in the pit (and some accompanying shin bruises to show for it), I was back on my Santa Cruz, which is so much lighter and fits so much better that it was probably worth rolling on the ground to get it back for another lap and a half plus.

But, no magic legs this time.  I'd burned a lot of matches in all that rolling on the ground and trying to get back to where I was.  And it showed on the last lap.  I was closing on a small group, pulling along another rider who'd had a mechanical, but couldn't keep her wheel when it came down to it.  Happy to see that she made it past two in front of us, but I finished 8th on the day.

the ones with the crashes on the first lap

Granogue.  It's always epic.  Last year, particularly so.

This year Granogue was doubling up, with big fields and two days of racing.  I was finishing a stint of 7 races in 16 days.  I think I'm still recovering, even as late as this race report is.

Day 1.  The crash in the sand pit.  Lap 1 - the top 5 of us ran front wheels into cassettes and wound up laying in the sand.  I dropped a chain and had some trouble with the remount, so I spent the next 30 minutes fighting back from about 8th to 4th.

Day 2.  The sketchy remount that I didn't crash on.  But I crashed on the approach.  In fact, crash might not be the right word.  Nystrom described it as "acrobatic" and later said, "I've never seen anyone do a cartwheel with their bike before".  In all of that, I only lost a spot or two and battled to stay on, but Erin and Britlee got off the front by about 20 seconds that I wouldn't get back from Erin.  Britlee dropped her chain on the last lap but held onto 2nd at the line in sprint.  She's strong.

Lots of good folks out racing their guts out last weekend.  Good to see Diane in the points, Kat recovering from a nasty crash on day 1, the masters' "mid-pack" riders duking it out with each other, Phil eking out a granogue double-double, Weaver deciding not to ride the Saturday run-up, even though he could in practice, Cati on my heels, J.T. flying the Kelly green and in the top half her first year racing cross, Stacey in the money in her first UCI weekend, and Zach, putting his shoe back on at the top of the run-up.

The triple... UCI3 cross festival, Cincinnati

When I said "more to come", I really meant "we're going to try to wear out the new clutch in our Focus by driving it nearly 2500 miles in less then two weeks."  Triple race report, only a week or so late.

Cincinnati.  The only 3 day cross festival, well, anywhere really.  Three days of hanging out on a gorgeous weekend in October with friends from cross - Diane, FatMarc, Bad Kat and Andy, Wes, Weaver, Kris, Breyla, Meatball- it's cool how fun the cross community is.  They cheered for me and asked Shea (who rode in the last race each day) how he finished the next morning.  Good gang.

Friday - Cyclo-stampede.  Put a park on the side of a hill and then throw some spaghetti on it - that's what the course was.  Friday's course had more climbing and descending than some mountain bike races I've done (yes, Fair Hill and Wakefield, I'm talking about you).  Stand to get up there, grab brakes at the corner at the bottom of the next downhill, repeat.  I actually sorta liked it in a masochistic way.  It was truly a course in which I was either a) standing to climb, b) wishing I was standing but not having the power, or c) putting my bum off the back and grabbing some levers, hoping those carbon brake pads morphed into something just a little more powerful.

Front row start in a smallish field.  They stage the Open 3/4 women ahead of the masters (35+ women) and then start us all together.  I led onto the grass - I wanted to - I didn't have a great line on the first off camber to the right and figured that making others follow me was better than the alternative.  On lap 2, I got passed by a young woman on a really sweet bike.  Turns out, she would win, and the bike (a Stevens) was brand new.  I watched a masters' rider go through the tape twice on the same turn after the barriers.  I contemplated riding the mini-waterbars they had on a hill.  But I didn't.  It wasn't a 100% ride for me, so the dismount and run was faster.  I don't think any of the women's elite riders rode it either.

I had a big gap in front and a big gap behind.  I finished 2nd.  Pleased, but wanting more.  I then proceeded to walk around, talk, wait in line for things, stand around some more, then run around the course watching Shea ride to 3rd (his first cx podium - a 12 year old won his race).  Yeah, so in other words, I completely screwed my recovery in ways that I paid for on Saturday.

Saturday - Java Johnny's - oof.  Legs feeling a hot, hilly day yesterday.  A big ring course.  Oof.  Nothing like needing some power.  A pretty flat park, with some sketchy acorn tree corners, a pain in the butt sandpit x 2 (think U-turn in the sand, just an excuse to get me off my bike), some fun ups and downs behind the pool.

A good start.  I led onto the grass.  I was second by the time a stake and some tape yielded to my bike with a crunch on a sweeper.  Turns out FatMarc nailed the same stake several hours later, only they'd beefed it up a bit.  I rode the tricky S curve around a tree/uphill.  Whoops.  I didn't ride it all the way.   A quick flip of the front wheel and I was laying on the ground, under my bike.  3 spots down, but only one was in my race.

I just couldn't hang onto those masters' riders.  It was where I needed to be to get help and get back up there.  Kat was on my wheel.  I tried to keep her there - we were racing for 5th and 6th and if 4th had started to fade at all, I wanted help in the chase.  But no such luck. Kat dropped back on the last lap and I finished 5th on the day.  The announcer noted that I'd missed the podium.

After being very diligent about my immediate recovery, eating a fantastic iced pumpkin muffin from Java Johnny's and taking a little nap, a college friend showed up and I got to explain 'cross to her while talking about what it's like (for her) to be a medical resident.  Then we watched Shea get badgered by announcers and hecklers alike as he rode to 4th behind 3 guys not old enough to drink.  Two of them were under 15.  To say that Cinci has a great juniors development culture is an understatement.

Sunday - the infamous Harbin Park.  A course preview didn't really show me what was everyone was talking about on this course - JPow and others had declared it an all-time fave.  But what's the big deal?  Well, balance, folks, balance.  Some winding around the trees technical sections was spaced out from the off camber ups and downs by a couple of power sections.  The high speed off camber section was followed by a no-brakes-but-I-really-want-to-grab-em downhill where you can easily hit 30mph.  The sand pit was maybe rideable uphill, but I ran it to save matches.  The second pass through per lap was downhill - with speed and a good entry, you could gain seconds in it.

Another front row start.  The Ohio ladies like to gravitate to the second row when they get about 8 deep in the call-ups.  Fine by me.  Second wheel onto the grass, I was about 3rd by the time we hit the steep up-down-up off cambers.  Good thing.  I felt/heard someone clip my rear wheel and definitely heard several people behind me crash.  A tell-tale hiss meant a flat.  But it wasn't mine, and I was standing in the pedals, trying to get a gap up the rather steep finish line hill.

I rode in second for about a lap - Leah was already off the front.  By the start of the second lap, I was plodding through the sand.  I got passed.  Twice.  FatMarc yelled at me.  I got on their wheels and stayed there for about a 1/2 lap.  I got dropped but was holding about a 7-10 second gap.  On the first half of the 3rd lap, I had a good sand pit.  I tried to bury myself and make it back to 2nd, knowing the other rider in that group was in the Masters' category.

Photo: Jeffery Jakucyk

I stood up, on an uphill.  In my easiest gear.  My legs laughed at me.  On a different day, that was a big ring uphill.  But not Sunday.  I backed off.  The gap was reasonable behind me.  No need to crash.  I rode pretty hard still, though.  The barriers were swimming in my eyes on the last lap.  I squeaked up the finish line hill with a smile.  Hey, I regained that podium spot.

Photo: Jeffery Jakucyk

More Cinci cross photos: http://jjakucyk.exposuremanager.com/g/cincinnati_uci-3_cyclocross_festival_100810_-_101010

the ones in massachusetts: part 2

Day 2.  Brisk morning.  Much of the course was similar, but different.  Everyone was talking about the run-up.  Now, I'll say this - in last year's mud, I'm sure it was terrible, miserable, clawing with your hands to get up it.  Honestly, I thought it was a pretty standard run-up and the dirt was torn up enough that you just had to look where you put  your foot.  Oh, it was too steep to push your bike, that's for sure.  No sand.  An uphill road start/finish.  Some long power sections in the wind coming off the ocean.  Did I mention this race course is literally in the park that is the beach?!  As in, the bathrooms have changing stalls and footwashes.  And there are huge rocks on the coast and scattered around the course.  A few mini-spiral of death S-curves, including a very challenging one set on the hillside next to a softball field.

Second row start.  Chilly.  Embro working but not as well as I'd like.  Talked to a woman (Christine, I think) that apparently I battled with last year at DCCX.  She had started in the elite field ahead of us. Impressive memory, she even knew my name.

A great start. Or so I thought.  I was about 5th wheel up the hill when all of the sudden, I was boxed in and swarmed from both sides.  Elbows rubbing, handlebars in my butt, onto the grass we went - everyone upright, but I was about 25th wheel.  Lots of ground to make up.  I was making progress passing people, including a few on the run-up and remount.  Those that had forgotten to shift, paid the price at the top and the first lap was like a wobblefest with 8 or so women trying to stand on their pedals while I tried to weave through without getting knocked over.

Somewhere in there, though, someone apparently stuck a post-it on my bum - "Please pass me then crash right in front of me".  This happened about 4 times in a lap and a half.  Once near the sand, a woman literally passed me and just fell over.  I rolled over her bike, grabbing brakes in time that I didn't endo over her thigh and managed to only lose a spot or two.  More time was lost when ladies crashed in the off camber mini-spiral and on the S turns to the barriers.

I felt decent, was working hard, but just couldn't get up to the lead group.   I worked my way into the top ten, where I battled with about 4 other women for the last two laps - all of us were within a few seconds of each other, and held my last lap position to finish 10th of 88 starters.  Not a bad day and one of the few races where I was really racing the entire time and a two second slack-off or bobble meant I was going to lose a spot. 

In retrospect, other than the start, my biggest mistake was that we weren't working together very well - I definitely did some drafting and once managed to take a pull that was reciprocated, but other than that, it was a battle for each spot and we missed opportunities to draft near the chainlink fence and leading up to the run-up. Clearly we're not used to organizing a chase because I know there were women with me that had the legs to get up there if we'd been a bit smarter.

Afterwards.   I stood at the finish line, laughing and chatting with the ladies who'd been nearby.  Ali pulled out 22nd - awesome for her.  It was clear that it was a hard race, though none of us could pinpoint why.  And that we'd had fun.

I grabbed a chocolate peanut butter banana smoothie (serious yum, even though I was already a bit chilly) and Shea had the car packed up before I even knew what to do with myself.  (He had a second row start Sunday and finished 19th on a course that didn't necessarily favor a technical mountain biker as much as Saturday's).

We stopped in nearby Manchester for brunch at a little restaurant before braving the drive.  Shea's lobster eggs benedict looked pretty awesome.  Too bad I'm allergic to shellfish.

Driving home.  Using a complicated computer-charges-phone-which-uses-3G-internet-to-get-audio-broadcast of Steelers vs. Ravens, I listened to the defense blow it in the last minute of the game.  Oh well.

Moral of the story.  Gloucester is totally worth the drive.  In case you were wondering.

the ones in massachusetts: part 1

Race reports from Gloucester, Mass (pronounced glouster, in case you don't want to sound like the idiot I was last week, saying it the way it's spelled).  The hub of New England Cross.  One of the biggest races in the Eastern half of the US.  1700 riders pre-registered over two days.

Our last minute decision.  We decided to go to this race on Tuesday.  No, not a Tuesday in August.  But last Tuesday.  You see, I was enthralled when I glanced at the pre-reg list.  The concept of lining up with nearly 100 other women was just too good to miss out on - a big field around here (and, as the New Englanders admitted, up there for most races) is 40 or 50...  They were staging by crossresults.com points, a system that meant my last-minuteness wouldn't put me all the way at the back for the start.

The trip.  10 hours.  With stops.  Rain.  Traffic in Connecticut.  Bridge crosswind in PA hard enough that we stopped at the next exit to check the bikes.  We went through PA and around NYC.  Others went through it.  Their drive was even longer.  Arrived to a little b&b in Rockport with a huge soft bed.

Day 1.  Driving the 10 minutes to the race as the sun rises over the Atlantic. Not bad.  A brisk morning.  Shea was wait-listed but got a number, starting from the very back of the 8am men's 4 race, he worked his way to 30th by the finish. 

My pre-rides told me the course was pretty technical and way fun, and the start was going to be critical.  A downhill road start to an off camber bumpy grass section that quickly went through a 180 degree chicane before spurting out onto a flat straightaway.  The possibilities for crashing and bottlenecks on the chicane and off camber were significant.  I wanted my own line through there, not someone else's.

After some of the women missed their callups, I wound up on the front row for the start and was 2nd wheel onto the grass.  I hung behind Brittlee for about 1/3 of the first lap before passing her and riding in the lead for a bit.  Holding the pace down, I was trying to let someone come by and be in the wind.  But they were too smart for a while.  When the eventual winner flew by me, I missed her wheel and crushed myself trying to catch her.  Turns out she's 14.  Awesome.  We drove 10 hours so I could get my *ss handed to me by a woman too young to drive.

This was one of those days where I just felt great on the bike.  I was in the right gear every time I came off a downhill or remounted after the barriers.  I was off the brakes and flowing through the corners.  I was strong in the sand, hitting the line around the rooty tree, missing the rocks on the downhill before the barriers.  I wound up 6th, less than a minute off the winner.

Afterwards. We enjoyed a beer (yeah, just one for me) while watching the lobster boats check traps in the harbor and heckling by the barriers during the masters' races.  I was in the pits with some friendlies for the elite women - which was fun until new-to-Baltimore Evie rolled a tubie about as far away as possible from the pits and DNF'd.  Watching the pro's hit those corners with no brakes, whew.  Good stuff.  We hung out in the evening over in Rockport, indulging in ice cream and eating seafood (fish for me) for dinner.  Lobster was $13. With sides.

I'll put up some pictures later this week when I find them online.  Surely there were some cameras out there, and I know Shea shot some video of Day 1.

4 races in two weeks, more to come...

Charm City Cross. 1.2 miles from my house.  Still, we drove to the race - hey I can barely ride 10 feet with two bikes in the grass let alone get my pit bike that far on city streets!  Two races.  One weekend.  Two pros from Rock Lobster crashing at our house.  A local course with 3 or 4 dismounts per lap including questionably rideable sand, a couple of very challenging off camber spots, and a typical uphill start/finish.

Photo: Anthony Skorochod

Day 1: Twisty course.  Legs felt good.  Head, well, it felt good. It just didn't behave.  I made dumb mistakes and got frustrated about it.  Crashed before the first run-up.  Took a bike change for it (shifter was way twisted).  Got my A bike back a 1/2 lap later (awesome pit support from Shea!) and promptly ran it into a barrier.  Grr...  Another lap later, I was bouncing it off of barriers.  Not a clean day.  Wound up 7th on the day after unremarkable last two laps of holding where I was.

Photo: Dennis Smith

Day 2: A little more power oriented, but still, 3 or 4 dismounts per lap and a really smooth turn section out by the ball field.  I've worked a lot on my barriers and it shows when I'm racing.  I passed people at Nittany, I passed people on Day 2 at Charm City through the barriers.  Perhaps that's why my mental mishaps on Day 1 were so frustrating.

Photo: Tracy Patel, also shown, Laurie W

This was one of the most fun races I've had in a while.  Decent start, wound up in the lead by the first time past the pits, felt smooth and focused.  Eventually we did some elbow bumping and I got passed a few times.  Stacey came past me then crashed about two seconds later - somehow I grabbed the TRPs and managed to stop without running her or her bike over.  She was very apologetic - I didn't mind - that's racing and it's not like she was trying to crash!

By the last lap, I was duking it out with Erin, who'd ridden away at Nittany.  Stacey was ahead about about 20 seconds and uncatchable for me at that point.  So it was down to a race for 4th.  I closed all the corners to hold my spot.  The once or so I lost it, I passed through the barriers.  I sprinted my guts out.  I held it by a half a bike length.  What good fun.

Photo: Anthony Skorochod

Whirlybird Cross.  I missed a favorite race to go to this MAC race in PA - the Ed Sanders' Memorial Race at Lilypons.  But the field size in PA was substantial and for now I want to at least hold onto my front row starts for the MAC series.  Drizzle on the drive up, but it was dry.  Bone dry.  Hard, bone-rattling dry.  There are two kinds of places where cross races are often held - city parks and school/city ballfields.  This was the latter.  That means lots of long straightaways, short off camber sections on the edges of the fields, and, in this case, swoops around trees.  A true power course, I stayed in my big ring the entire time.

Photo: Dennis Smith

The start was uneventful, and I was about 5th wheel around the first turns but I could not get on a wheel and stay there.  I spent most of the next 3 laps in no man's land, and wound up 5th in the B race.
 

One of the rare opportunites this year to race the Elite race, so I went for the double.  A small field of only 12 when I signed up, I knew it was a good chance to test my legs against the big girls and yet I still would likely make back my entry fee.  I figured DFL was a possibility, but I was 9th for most of the race with one woman, Lisa, who had some early technical mistakes and was sneaking up on me.  Just before the bell lap, we traded positions a couple times and then she hung on my wheel for the bell lap...  Until the last straightaway, when I was passed.  I flew into the high speed barriers, passed Lisa on the run/remount through them, and dropped down the S turns on the hill with a slight gap that I managed to hold in the sprint.  It was fun racing. 

I think this is the finish. Photo: Dennis Smith

So a pretty successful day - two top ten results (one in a field of only 12, but still) and my first elite race, and yeah, thanks to equal women's payouts, I made back the entry and even some tolls.

Life only got better when I got back to the car and checked the Steelers' score.  38-3 Steelers in the 4th.

my shoulder is sore... must be cx season

Walking to work this morning, I put my bag on my right shoulder.  Oof, there's a bruise there.  Last weekend, we were only off once per lap.  This weekend was the hometown races - Charm City Cross - just 1.3 miles from my house.  Two races. 6 laps of pre-riding.  Off 4 times per lap most laps (I rode the sand pits a couple of times).  Full on shouldering for the run up, the sand, and occasionally the railroad ties = lotsa bouncing frame on shoulder action.

the small world of cross

I leave the slumbering elite rider from San Francisco on the couch next to his and his teammate's bike boxes and wheel cartons filling up our rowhouse living room and go for my Friday morning spin.  High cadence, low effort, mostly flat - perfect for riding in circles around a lake, people watching.  Druid Hill is just a mile or so from our house, so escaping the traffic for a bike path around a lake suits for this kind of ride.  Yeah, I'd rather ride in the country, but it takes 20 minutes to get to fun roads.  And 20 minutes to get back.  And this was a 40 minute ride.  And the people watching in Baltimore city parks is fantastic.

I digress.

My second lap around the lake, I squint through the sunlight and see a cyclist in a full kit on a cross bike, looking my way.  A quick conversation reveals he's from the Czech Republic.  He wanted to know where registration is for tomorrow's Charm City race, having brought his bike from Europe on a business trip so he could race in Baltimore.  He rode the 15 miles from his airport hotel to the race venue today.  I assume he'll repeat that tomorrow to get to the race.

I figured given this amount of effort, perhaps he was racing the Elite UCI race?  Nope... he's a masters' rider.  How cool.

I love cross.  Apparently there are crazy people everywhere.

no woulda coulda shoulda for me...

Nittany Cross.  A long drive.  A very early morning - Shea's race was at 9.  Walked the course with the dogs.  Flat. Fast.  One rooty section, a couple of high speed corners to pay attention to, lotsa flat grassy power sections.  Two laps on the bike before the 9am race, some cheering and getting dressed and soon I was on the trainer for my warmup.  A few moments of holy crap, cross season is really here in the morning, but race nerves weren't too bad.

Going to the scrum fest, I realized that a) I was late even though we still had 20 minutes til our race (hey ladies, when it's colder out, we won't do that) and b) I didn't care that much because it was staged by order of reg and I was on the ball.  Actually, maybe it was by last year's final standings, but the first 12 or so got a callup, then it was scrum... As we're standing there, they changed the start to dis-include the prologue loop.  I was actually sort of expecting that - our race is the only one of the day with 3 waves of starts and the prologue took you backwards on the course for a couple hundred yards.

I was aggressive in the start and had the hole shot to the first critical corner.  It felt like the field spread out immediately.  Others told me it didn't and there were some early crashes, but from my perspective I was pulling about 45 women single file up toward the master's riders who'd gone off a minute earlier.

Feeling strong and racing my own race as I worked through the master's women, I just put it all out there.  That was good enough for 2 1/2 laps.  Then I got passed and couldn't hang on by the end of that lap - the leader and another woman were about 10-15 seconds ahead of me for most of the last two laps.

Eh, whatever.  The announcers noticed I'd led the field, I felt awesome, and I finished 3rd on the day in a deep field of 3/4 women.  How cool was it to see that many ladies out there?!  That doesn't even count the 27 pre-registered in the women's UCI race - nearly as many as the men's pro race.

What a blast. Lots of familiar faces and voices in the pits hollering for each other and sharing a beer afterwards.  A great virgin race for the new Santa Cruz Stigmata.  Turns out we parked next to another woman who had the green one.  Not too many of those on the east coast.

As a side note, after seeing podium pics I've decided to never wear that skort with a jersey again.  Suffice it to say I don't sit around my house trying on my jersey with various bottoms to see what would look good in pictures.

anxious... excited...

I've been anxious for this cross season since last December.  I am stronger, have more base fitness, have spent some coach-prescribed time during the summer running and yoga-ing... but am I faster?  I have a sweet new ride outfitted with awesome green bar tape, tubulars on new-to-me wheels, a spare bike... but am I faster?   Six cx skills sessions with intervals in the past 15 days, a new flow to my remount, some tweaks to my carries, a couple changes to my uphill dismount... but am I faster? 

Saturday.  Saturday starts cross.  I'm anxious.  Excited.  Can't wait for the cowbells and friends.  The red-line efforts.  The crashing frustration.  The mud (there won't be any mud on Saturday, but I want some mud).  The dewy morning pre-rides.  The trainer warm-ups under a tent with my i-pod.  The night before nerves that often yield baked goods to share.  The bruised right shoulder.  The crisp air that lets us bring the dogs for some hatchback-based socialization.  Did I mention the mud?

How will I tell if I'm faster?  What if everyone else around me is too?  I'll just have to know.  To believe.  To know that I love this crazy endeavor as much as anyone else out there.  That I've put the time in.  And will continue to.  To enjoy the adrenaline rush of a good start or a strong pass.  Appreciate the precision of a good set of barriers, earned through many many preseason repetitions.  Know that even on the worst days, I showed up. 

I'll bring what I have.  Put it out there.  Race smart and hard.  Let the results fall where they may.  It's easy to trap myself into goals that are numbers.  Results.  Upgrades.  Don't ask me what those goals are.  They aren't the ones that matter.

And yes, this is my pre-first-race-of-the-year pep-talk to myself.  Here's hoping it works and I have more fun than ever out there.

putting on a clean jersey

I wash bike clothes more often than anything else.  Ok, except during ski season, then I wash ski socks more often than anything else.

This week we both ran out of clean socks.  But bike shorts and jerseys and gloves are ready to go.

When I hang dry it all, it's a virtual Kelly advertisement at my house.

But that's not what this post is about.  Last year, I wore a team T-shirt on the podiums I got on.  It was too big, not flattering, and not well-recognized.  I've always kept an extra kit in my race bag... just in case a husband or someone else forgets something truly essential - he's only had to wear girl shorts once... amazing what a girl-shaped chamois will do for your memory!

So now I'm doing the right thing and wearing my clean jersey when I make the podium.

Okay, so I've only managed this twice.  But I like the pattern.  At Michaux, it was, to say the least, pouring down rain when I missed my name being called at the awards ceremony.

Here's hoping I need that clean kit at a few cross races this year.  37 days. Not that I'm counting.

Meet my new ride

Apparently there is a trend this week - it seems everyone is getting new bikes.  Including me.  A new cross race bike to go with my upgrade.

Here she is:

Pretty, eh?  Yeah, there's some bling.

A preliminary weight analysis says she's almost exactly 17lbs - a weight that will change just a bit with a seatpost swap, changeover to cross tires and switching out the 34/50 chainrings for better cross gearing - 36/42.

We went out on the road yesterday for hill repeats.  She's way fast, but confusing.  Why you say?  Well, turns out that I don't have a clue how doubletap shifters work.  Especially the front one.  I think I'm getting it figured out, but that wasn't before sitting at the bottom of a hill going in circles to figure out the shift to a gear suitable for climbing and still not being sure how I achieved it. 

Definitely more shouldering clearance for cross, but the geometry for shouldering means I'll adjust my carry a bit.  This means you should look for bruises in different places this year...

As built for the geeks who care:

• Santa Cruz Stigmata aluminum frame with Alpha Q Carbon Fork
• TRP EuroX Magnesium Brakes
• SRAM Force shifters, derailleurs, and cranks
• Chris King headset, 3T Carbon Bars
• Shimano RS80 clincher wheels (these are not new but are my race wheels from last year - I know the bike is responsive - I can tell the rear wheel needs to be trued)

Love Jes and Kent at Gettysburg bikes... they even let me get in the way to "help" with the build.  I can't recommend these guys highly enough to anyone - that's where I send my mom (seriously! and probably that's a story for another day...)

Now I've just gotta live up to my ride. :-)