Stop Slouching: My stupid shoulder

Do you know that my most popular post on this whole blog is this post about winging scapulae? My mindset around rehab or "corrective exercise" has changed since I wrote that. I no longer think I can fix people or make their movement perfect. Better, maybe. But not perfect. And I can't fix long-term injuries, usually. Again, I might be able to make things better. At a certain point, though, we all have physiological issues that we're going to have to live with. We build them up throughout life. That's part of the deal as humans.

I no longer nitpick so much about "proper" biomechanics of exercise (although still don't do this). Maybe it's because I work primarily with older adults (oldest client is 94, currently!) and I'd have a different mindset if I were working with high-level athletes or something. Mostly, I focus on trying to make clients' movements better rather than perfect. They can only focus on one or two things at a time, anyway.

All of which is a long way to say that my right shoulder is still messed up. In spite of any articles that I've written about corrections for the "problem," my right scapula still wings. And everything around it is kind of FUBAR, too. I'm past trying to fix it. I don't need it to work perfectly; I need it to work well enough. For one thing, I need to be able to pick my bike up by the top tube by the time CX season starts. Right now, that really, really hurts.

Definitely can't do this right now. Photo courtesy of Blooming Cyclist, (c) 2017.

So I've put in a request to see a physical therapist, and I'm going to get some professional help to work this out. I could probably figure out what's wrong and how to fix it with enough research and reading on my own. But I'll soon have enough of that research and reading for my DPT program. I want to spend this summer enjoying my free time while I have it.


Yes, I'm outsourcing my care to another professional. But the alternative is learning to bunny hop the barriers this fall, probably ending up on a video like this. And no one wants to see that.

Healer, heal yourself much?

p.s. That shoulder biomechanics article? 10 years old. Holy crap. I've been doing this for 10 years.

Recovering from Dirty Kanza

In which I rediscover why it's a good idea to train for big events.

Did I mention that my knee started hurting about 30 miles into my Dirty Kanza attempt? The pain started as tightness behind my left knee. It eventually wrapped around to the front of my knee and gave me a little stab with every pedal stroke. I don't remember any pain there during the next few days with normal walking and activity. But now the pain reoccurs on every single bike ride, including short and easy commutes, and sticks around for a bit after the ride.

This seems obvious and stupid to say, but this is why you need to train for huge events. Your fitness may be able to carry you through stupid-hard events (like the Dirty Kanza, or remember that Cedar Point half ironman that I did on basically no training?), but your muscles and tendons and mind need the practice, too. So yeah. Next time I'll actually train for the event.

Something in here is going wrong. By the way, this isn't my actual knee.

In the meantime, I need to make my knee better! And I'm finding that I'm strangely lazy about resolving my own biomechanical issues. I'm a personal trainer and a physical therapy student, right? So I should be able to put together a basic knee rehab routine for my own benefit. If a client came in with this problem, I'd have half a dozen exercises in mind to help make it better. For some reason, when it's my own knee, I can't muster the focus necessary to come up with a plan.

That said, my bum shoulder has also been bothering me for weeks. I think it's down to a less-than-ergonomic set-up at my home desktop computer. Anyway, it's painful, it hurts when I move it, and it hasn't been getting better (even with consistent exercise). So I've set up an appointment with a physical therapist.

Healer, heal yourself much?

Dirty Kanza 2018: My First Attempt

This is the woman who convinced me to register!

Let me begin by saying that I seriously considered transferring my entry for Dirty Kanza. About a month out, I realized that I hadn't trained nearly enough and was rapidly running out of time to correct that mistake. I talked with Emily and my parents about not doing the race, but in the process of that discussion I realized that, as much as I might regret doing the event while I was doing it, I would regret missing the opportunity much more. With that in mind, I committed to going out there and doing my best, whether that meant 50 miles or 206.

My Dirty Kanza prep was impacted by the preceding week--specifically, the fact that we flew to Ottawa to visit Emily's family for Memorial Day. I was in charge of booking flights, and I accidentally booked the return trip a day later than I'd intended (not the first time I've screwed up travel dates)! So we flew in from Ottawa to SFO on Wednesday at 1:00 AM. At 9:45 AM on Wednesday, I flew out of SJC for Kansas. That meant I had to have everything--bike bag, clothes, any equipment--packed for the Kanza trip an extra week in advance. That didn't cause any specific problems, but it introduced an extra layer of stress to my preparations.

I reassembled my bike in Wichita and had no brakes, which I'd sort of expected; I'd heard that flying with a bike is likely to introduce air into hydraulic brake lines. In anticipation, I had pre-scheduled an appointment at my former local bike shop (Bicycle X-Change in Wichita, Kansas) with my favorite ever mechanic (and adopted big brother, Jack) to have my bike pre-Kanza tuned. They were able to get the brakes bled and had everything tuned in time for me to pick it up on Friday afternoon, and the whole bike braked and shifted better than it has since I bought it! I love that I have mechanics I can trust all over the country!

I wasn't together enough to get any kind of housing in Emporia, so my parents and I drove to Emporia on Friday morning for check in and back again Friday afternoon. It was blazing hot on Friday--heat index well above 100*F! The warmest temperatures I'd experienced so far this year had come in Ontario, where the temperatures were in the mid-80s. It's still cool enough in Northern California that I have to wear knee warmers in the mornings. I knew I was unprepared for the heat. Friday's weather did not give me positive feelings. Fortunately, a thunderstorm blasted through Emporia in the wee hours of Saturday morning, cooling everything off for the day-of.

Speaking of that thunderstorm, since we didn't have a place to stay in Emporia, we had to drive up on Saturday morning. We left at 4:15 AM. We woke up at 3:30 AM. I have a rule about this, honed over years of early mornings at various gyms: if it's before 4:30 AM, it's not the morning; it's the night before. Which is to say, no one should be waking up at 3:30 AM. Ever.

Anyway. The thunderstorm. It blew through Wichita a few hours before we left, and we caught it on the interstate. My dad was driving, but I could feel how strong the wind was blowing from the backseat. There were areas where he slowed down from the speed limit of 75 MPH to 55 MPH, because any higher speed would have been dangerous. We arrived safely in Emporia, but late. By that time, the thunderstorm had moved into Emporia, and the start time was delayed by 30 minutes. That gave me time to visit the bathroom and make sure my bike was ready to go.

By the time we rolled out of Emporia, the skies were clearing and the air temperature was perfect. Standing on the line with my friend (the one who convinced me to sign up for the lottery when I was a few beers in), I felt mostly confident, ready for what the day would bring.

I went too hard in the first hour. There were so many people, and we were on wide roads, and my roadie-ness took over. I told myself it would be worth it to push a little harder initially to stay with a strong group. One of the disadvantages of drafting in a pack was that I got covered in mud. It wasn't really worth drafting, considering that I couldn't see where I was going through the mud on my sunglasses. After about 90 minutes, I was able to let the group mentality go and tried to go my own pace. The rest of the first segment went pretty well, although my undercarriage wasseriously chafing, and my back was starting to ache. By the time I got to the first aid station, I was extremely ready to be off of my bike.

Rear wheel post-flat

I didn't spend a ton of time at the first rest stop. Did I mention I'd started my period on Friday? That was an extra element of fun to deal with throughout the day. I took care of that, went to the bathroom, re-stocked on food and drink. My bike needed some work. It had accumulated mud that had turned to cement on my drivetrain. My parents helped by cleaning and lubing the chain while I ate. Once the bike was back in working order, I climbed back on and rolled off reluctantly.

From the top of the hill!

The second segment was tougher. We climbed more, including a big climb culminating in a beautiful view at mile 65. I stopped at the top to pee, take some pictures, have a snack. My back was seizing up, but I noticed that I felt much better after even a short break off the bike. I decided I would start taking breaks every 10 miles or so to let my back rest. The next several miles felt great. I've never--even in my Ironman--experienced such drastic swings between feeling miserable and feeling great. Miles 65-80 felt terrific. It was mostly downhill, mostly tailwind, my whole body and mind felt better than they had just half an hour before. I started to think I would at least be able to make it halfway, although I also had moments of telling myself I should quit while I was ahead. I ran out of water at mile 80, and tried to nurse half a bottle of drink mix through the next 20 miles. Shout out to rider #241, who gave me all the water out of one of his bottles, and to the family near Eureka who gave out water! They saved me from getting behind on my hydration through that stretch. Without them, I would have been in a bad way by the time I got to the Eureka stop.

All alone out here. Just me and the cows.

When I arrived at the second aid station (mile 103), I got a cool surprise: my dad's friend and fellow C.O.G.S. (Crazy Old Guys in Spandex, which is what you become after a M.A.M.I.L.) drove all the way from Wichita to Eureka to see me come through the aid station! Seeing him and his wife gave me inspiration to keep going. I took a loooong break in Eureka, though. I was 2 hours ahead of the time cut-off, and I took full advantage. I did a total kit change, went to the (flushing!) toilets in the high school twice, ate as much watermelon as I could, and sat in the shade in a camp chair for probably 20 minutes. I rolled out fully expecting to need to call my parents to pick me up within the next 10 miles.

Ethel's still looking good at this point.

But I didn't. I got to mile 115, took my promised break to unkink my back, then actually got back on and kept pedaling. By mile 120, I needed another back break. All day, I'd been asking myself in my head how I would know when it was time to quit and pack it in. Emily made me promise not to overdo (although can you do an event like DK200 without overdoing?). My mom reminded me in Eureka that I had nothing to prove to anyone. Around mile 120, I decided that if I got to where I needed to stop and stretch my back every minute, it would be time to pack it in. And really, I wasn't going much more than a minute at a time. I would get off the bike, stand up, stretch, get back on, and immediately need to do it again. During one of those breaks, I dropped my bike saddle by a few millimeters, hoping that would help. It did help the chafing, but not the back pain. The darkest moments of the day were miles 125-140, where it was mostly uphill, blistering hot, in the glaring sun, into a stiff headwind, with no relief in sight. Still, I passed a few who were worse off, including one guy who was pulled over to the side of the road throwing up. I gave him some of my Pepto Bismal tablets.

Then, around mile 140, it suddenly got easier again. A lot of the steep climbing was behind us, the sun was setting, the wind was calming down, the air was getting cooler. I turned on my lights. My body felt miraculously good! Even my back calmed down. I knew then that I was going to make it to the third aid station at mile 160, with plenty of time to make the cut-off. And, as much as I tried to tell myself I would quit there in Madison, I knew that I would probably get back on my bike, planning to call my parents soon thereafter to come get me. But I'd told myself the same thing after the first and second aid station, and had made it that far. So I figured if I set off from Madison, with only 46 miles to go, I would finish. Unthinkably, with the amount of training I'd done going into the Dirty Kanza, I might actually finish it. I could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

But. But but but. My right shifter had been acting wonky going into Eureka. It was getting stiffer and stiffer, harder to shift. That continued after the aid station, but I could still get it to shift. Shortly before mile 151, it finally got stuck and I couldn't get it to shift anymore. I was stuck in my easiest gear, spinning my legs at 6-7 MPH. And while I knew I could still get to Madison before the cut-off, I knew I wouldn't make it to the finish by the 3:00 AM deadline going 6 MPH the whole way. I thought about continuing on to Madison, but it was annoying spinning and going nowhere. I called my mom and told her the bike broke and I was done. They got ready to pack up and come get me, and I kept spinning along, thinking I would meet them somewhere along the way. She called back and said they weren't allowed to drive backwards on the course, so we tried to figure out where to meet along the way. While I was on the phone, some volunteers pulled up (they were coming back from their post at one of the creek crossings) and offered me a ride! So I rode in with them in their Jeep. Got back to my parents' car around 10:30, and we packed up and cleared out.

I feel good about the event. My bike broke before my body did, but my body was very grateful to have the excuse to stop. I got to stop during one of my high points. Re-reading this report, I don't think I can fully communicate how hard it was and how little I believed I could do the whole thing. Really, until mile 140, I was asking myself continually if I should quit and give up, how far I needed to go before I could let myself give up. My back was so stiff at points that I couldn't pedal anymore. I didn't think I could physically make it through the full 206 miles. But I think (and my parents agree, for what that's worth) that I would have finished if my bike hadn't stopped working. And I could have gotten my bike to work again probably if I had made it to Madison. The shifter breaking was the final push I needed, though, to throw in the towel.

There were highlights, though, and a few things I got really right in this attempt! In no particular order:

• I did a really good job of hydrating and eating. At no point did I feel dehydrated or depleted.
• I applied and reapplied sunscreen consistently enough that I didn't get burned, or even that much more tan than I already was. In fact, my mom got a sunburn and I didn't!
• I ran tubes in my tires, which I thought was going to be a disaster. Long story, and it involves a pair of rims that I'd never run tubeless before . . . they're tubeless ready, but I think they need to be re-taped (I got them used). Anyway, I only had one flat, and it's because I mistimed a bunny hop over a lip of concrete on a cattle grate. If I'd just slowed down and rolled over it, I wouldn't have had a single flat. And I changed that sucker in no time. Tubes weren't a liability for me at all, at least not on this attempt.
• I did way more than I thought I could. I was skeptical going into it that I would even be able to make it halfway.
• Slowing down for steep, rough descents and taking good lines.
• Being alone. I discovered on this ride that I prefer riding alone. I didn't want to find a buddy or a group; I didn't want to chat to pass the time. Some of my favorite moments were when things were so spread out that I couldn't see anyone in front of me or behind me, and could enjoy the feeling of total solitude. That was especially moving after the sun set. Really, when else will I got to be so isolated, away from all people, houses, settlements, in the dark alone with my thoughts and the stars? It was a breathtaking experience. That in itself was worth the price of admission (and all the pain that went along with it).

There were many things that I did wrong, too. Obviously. Again, in no particular order, a few lessons learned:

• More training and more specific training. I had a lot going on while training for Dirty Kanza. Moving across the country, finding a new team, racing with the new team, finishing pre-reqs, applying for and getting into grad school . . . but it's not like I wasn't riding my bike. I wasn't doing the training I needed, and I wasn't using my Crux. So in addition to having done no rides over 88 miles, I hadn't done those long rides on the bike I used for Dirty Kanza. If I'd had more time on my Crux, maybe my back wouldn't have locked up so much. Or I would have known that it would lock up, and changed my fit to fix it.
• Book a place in Emporia very early. There's no reason to get up at 3:30 AM on the day of a huge event.
• Bring at least 3 bottles, in addition to a hydration pack. Whatever happens, do not run out of water.
• Practice nutrition ahead of time--don't rely on past experience! I used S'mores Pop-Tarts in my Ironman with great success, but they were much harder to stomach with temperatures in excess of 90*.
• Use a bike with less aggressive, race-oriented geometry and have it fit specifically for DK (and DK training).
• Spare shorts were a great idea. Spare socks for each aid station would be even better. And it wouldn't hurt to have a pair of spare shoes, either.
• Don't wear white jerseys unless you're okay with them never being white again. Ever.
• Bring camp chairs for the aid stations.
• Some kind of liquid painkiller that got into my system quickly would have been great. I think part of the reason I felt so good at mile 140 is that the ibuprofen I'd taken earlier finally kicked in.
• Bring a brighter headlight. It needs to be a "see" headlight, not just a "be seen" headlight.
• Practice mental strategy and better self-talk. I used too much energy talking myself into continuing.
• Use a power meter for pacing. I have a PowerTap wheel on my road bike, but no power meter on my CX bikes. I'm thinking I'll get a PowerTap wheel for my CX bike, too, and use it to train for DK next year and to pace my effort, especially early on when my body feels good and I want to ride fast.
• Core strength, back flexibility, hamstring flexibility, and upper body strength. I knew months ago that my upper body was likely to give out before my endurance ran out, but I still didn't put in the work to make sure that wouldn't limit me. If I had put in the necessary time and work (as I knew I should) with weight training, core training, and yoga, I would have had an easier time of the whole thing. Then again, maybe that back ache was what I got instead of menstrual cramps with my period.

I will make another attempt at Dirty Kanza, I hope in 2019. That will depend to a great extent on my school schedule, since I'll be spending 7 weekends per term in San Diego for labs and exams. But perhaps those weekends will fall in a way that I will still be able to travel to Kansas for DK 2019. And this time, my body and bike will be prepared!

Red Kite #7 Women's 3/4/5 (April 22, 2018)

It's weird. Re-watching the last lap, it doesn't so much look like my wheel got chopped in the second-to-last corner; it looks like I started my lead-out too early and lost steam in the final straight. Good to see the video, and re-think what I can do better next time. Share and enjoy!

In other news . . .

Quick break from cycling to tell you what's up in the rest of my life:

After working on health-related pre-requisites since 2009, I have been accepted to a doctoral physical therapy program for fall of 2018. I'm going to be a doctor!

If I can get through the next 4 years, that is . . .

Race Report: Red Kite #7

In which I race with my new team for the first time!

I signed up for this race on a whim, since one of my new teammates (Teammate L) decided to make her return to racing (after giving birth to her first son earlier this year). It's a flat, fast, four-corner (-ish--it's really three corners and a curve) crit, probably perfect to get me back into road racing after more-or-less 8 months away!

We had three racers in a field of probably 40 3/4/5s. Plan was to hang in, see what happened, and wait for it to come to a sprint, at which point I would lead out another teammate (Teammate D) for a glorious win. The finish line for the race was a short distance from the final corner, so positioning into the last corner was key.

Race went off as expected. In general, I've experienced safe, courteous racing out here on the West Coast, and this was no exception! Teammate L led me out for a prime mid-race. No one else really contested it, and I had about a 50 meter gap by the time I crossed the line. So I kept going! A rider from SJBC (San Jose Bicycle Club) bridged up to me, and we traded turns at eye-searing pace. I have never had such an encouraging breakaway companion! She cheered me on, and kept saying, "We just have to get out of sight! Come on! We can do it!" But big team Breakaway shut us down. Honestly, I was grateful when they caught us. My power profile is better for getting away than staying away, and I am certainly not in race shape currently (still training for Dirty Kanza distance).

I think the blue arrow is my prime sprint, and the red arrow is where we got caught.

Teammate D pulled the same trick, taking a prime and staying away for a few laps. But team Breakaway brought her back, too.

With about three laps to go, I maneuvered to the front. I didn't like the moderation of the pace--a slow lead-up to a sprint spells danger to me. So I started ramping up the pace. Teammate D was on my wheel, letting me know where she was and where to move to keep her in my draft. I went as hard as I could on the last lap, but team Breakaway's train was right beside us. I had the wide line going into the final corner, and two Breakaway riders overshot that turn, pulling directly into my line and cutting me off. Teammate D was still able to get around me and them to sprint for the win in the cat. 3. But I was freaked out, and had done my job, so I sat up and pedaled in for 7th place out of 8.

At first I was annoyed about having my wheel chopped coming out of the last corner. But that's racing. And they were 4/5s, still new to criteriums and learning how to corner. Next time I'll try to position on the inside corner. C'est la vie.

I'll have video from this race at some point, but my little action cam has been giving me fits. The video is on there; I'm just having trouble getting it off. Once I do, I'll throw a video together and post it.

Overhaul

I've been nursing along some sub-optimal equipment for several months--gear cables and housing that could really use replacement, but were still functioning well (enough) as long as I tinkered with them constantly. No more! I did a total bike overhaul this weekend; to be honest, it's bleeding over into this week. Here's how the trusty steed looked on the operating table:

Stripped down to his skivvies!

In addition to replacing shift cables and housings, I pulled off the shifters, lubed everything inside, and replaced the brake hoods. I stripped off both derailleurs, examined all the parts for function, cleaned everything really well, and replaced the jockey wheels. I pulled the crankset for a thorough cleaning and replaced my 36-tooth inner chainring with a 34 (I need that compact gearing for the hills/mountains around here). And I figured as long as I had the bar tape stripped, I might as well replace the brake cables and housings, too. I have some fresh Lizard Skins bar tapes on order at my (new!) local shop, Goride Bicycles in Redwood City. The guys there have been very helpful as I've prepared for this process.

Somebody get him some clothes!

Although it hasn't seemed like much of a process--not nearly as bad as I thought it would be! Previous experiences with internal cable routing have led to much sweating, cursing, and banging around with magnets. I guess I've done it enough times to have the hang of it, and all the internal cable routing has gone very smoothly. I treated myself to Park Tool's internal cable routing doohickey, the IR.2, but I haven't really needed it so far. The strong magnet has come in handy, but I have some old magnets from a name badge that would work just as well. I'm not going to say it was a waste of $50, though, because it's never a waste of money to have good tools!

I have a little more deep cleaning I want to do while I have the crankset off. Then I'm going to reinstall everything, adjust the brake hoods and levers to where I want them, and torque everything to spec. Last thing--and best thing--will be wrapping the new bar tape. That's always my favorite part; it feels like a reward for all the dirty work!

Next big project will be bleeding the brake lines on my Crux before CX season!

New Team, New Kit!

Last weekend, I got in some miles and mountains with my new team: the ladies of SunPower Racing/Alto Velo Racing Team!

I'm the only one facing the wrong way. Well at least they know what to expect from me now.

The team met up in Sonoma, which is beautiful but also mountainous. We rode hard together on Saturday and had the chance to practice some group riding skills, then practiced individual skills and drills on Sunday. Staying in the same house with the group gave me a chance to get to know everyone. I really like them! I'm excited to start racing with them at the Turlock Lake Road Race next weekend.

But you'll notice that the kits are white and blue. I've spent the past three years with team kit that matched my bike! Does that mean it's time to buy a new bike? I think it might. One really shouldn't be riding around all mismatched like that.

Finding my way

I think, relatively, that I haven't moved around all that much. But I have had four significant moves in the last 10 years, so I've had a little practice with the process. Mostly, I don't like it. Packing everything up, sorting through the stuff you naturally accumulate from living in a place for a few years, getting frustrated with packing and giving a bunch away or throwing it out or just leaving it behind, then regretting it a few months later when you inevitably need that exact thing . . . finding a new place to live, and setting it up so it feels like home and not some stranger's house . . . making new friends and connections, finding a doctor, a dentist, a piano tuner . . . figuring out which grocery store is going to be your grocery store . . . in general, I do not like moving and would be quite happy never to do it again.

Still, something about moving that I enjoy, something that I've just picked up on this time: finding my way around on a bike. At first, I went on a few group rides and had no clue where I was; I couldn't get dropped because I wouldn't know where I was (there's still plenty of that, actually)! And I've already written about getting turned around on a bike ride. But on a ride last week, I suddenly realized that I knew exactly where I was, and knew what was coming up next. It's strange how quickly, and without really noticing it, these landmarks and . . . how should I say, the feel of a place sticks in your brain. Without trying, I've acquired a certain sense of where I am, and how to get around.

I'm sure there will still be plenty getting lost--after all, the Bay Area is huge, and there are major parts of it I haven't even considered exploring yet! But it's starting to feel like my area, like I belong here and know a little bit about how to get around.

Getting Lost

When I was a little girl, my dad told me a story about how he got to know Wichita when he first moved there. He had grown up near Ohio, but moved to Wichita when he entered the Air Force. During his first week or two there, he drove around in his Le Mans and got himself really lost. Then he found his way home again. And that's how he got to know his way around Wichita.

On Tuesday, I got lost.

I planned a long ride using a combination of Strava heatmaps, local knowledge, and the few rides I've done with Alto Velo Racing Club. I loaded it to my phone, and hoped that would be enough.

First off, I don't know enough about the area to know high-traffic roads. Sometimes Strava heatmaps show a road that's popular for riding, but all of the rides are recorded on Saturdays and Sundays when the traffic's light, or it's all from weekday commuters who ride on the sidewalks. So I ended up on a long, steady uphill that was pretty high-traffic, and included lots of semi-trucks. That was mistake number one.

Mistake number two was missing my turn and going about 5 miles beyond it, mostly uphill. I figured it out and turned around straight into a headwind. Ergh. I checked my phone at the turn to make sure I knew the next few turns, then did a loooooong descent down a narrow road. I made my next turn, but had to stop and check my phone there.

Which brings me to mistake number three: not bringing a phone charger. My phone got too cold and froze. Have you ever had your iPhone literally freeze? The battery drains to nothing in a second and you can't turn it back on until you plug it in. So now I was about 15 miles from home with no idea where I was or how to get back.

So I tried to use the bread crumbs feature of my Garmin to guide me back. It didn't work. And the satellite dropped out. I was completely without technology, and had to use my wits to get me back home!

I'd just come down from the mountains, and I know those are west of where I live. And I'd seen the south bay from the top of the mountain, so I started heading north and east. I saw a sign for a familiar road, but couldn't remember if I should turn left or right. I guessed left, and followed the road hoping that I wasn't going to end up in San Jose.

After a few miles, I saw a familiar jersey up ahead--a Sunpower racer was within view! I went a little harder to catch up to him, and asked if he could point me in the right direction. He showed me where to turn, and I was back in a familiar area! I was able to get myself home from there.

Tl;dr: I got lost, and now I know my way around my new home a little bit better! But getting lost is worth it when it comes with these views:

Getting stronger

I'm coming back from a true off-season, which coincided with the winter holidays, three subsequent trips (skiing in Pennsylvania, visiting family in Ontario, driving cross-country), and a coast-to-coast move. My training log from that time looks like this:

Those "walks" are actually skiing. So I taught a spin class, did yoga, went skiing . . . that was it for that month! It felt good to take time off; I burned myself out with racing last year. I did 18 road races between April and August and 15 'cross races between September 10 and December 10. The experience of burning out towards the end of the season has given me a better sense of how much I can race, and I'll apply that this year and in future seasons.

Right now, though, I'm having to re-build my fitness from a much lower place. With the beautiful weather and places to cycle here in Northern California, I'm having to hold myself back from doing more volume and intensity than my body can handle right now. It's also harder to make myself stick to any kind of structure, since the outdoor environment isn't chasing me onto the trainer. I finally broke down and bought a power meter--a Saris PowerTap that is attached to some sick carbon wheels. I'm hoping that will help me structure my training outdoors, and will give me a better way to monitor my training stress so I don't overdo.

The bike fitness was a planned loss, though, and relatively short-term; I knew I would need to slow down, let some fitness go, and build back up for the next season. There's something else that I've lost over the past two years that I didn't plan: strength.

My legs are still strong, of course. One of the guys on a group ride I did last weekend said, "I can see by your legs that you don't like climbing, either," and then we suffered at the back of the bunch together on every uphill. My legs are still strong and powerful, like a frog's! But the upper body strength that I built up over years of strength training in the gym has slowly faded away, as I neglected the weights for the bike. Because who wants to be inside lifting weights when you could be outside riding a bike?!

I would still win this cycling competition, boys.

Chris Froome's arms aside, cyclists still need upper-body strength, especially if they're planning to do off-road events like cyclocross or the Dirty Kanza. Shoulder and core stability are especially important for me, because of my bad shoulder. All of that hasn't been enough to motivate me to get into the weight room, or the yoga studio, or even to do a few corrective exercises at home in the evenings. Over the past 6 months, I've started getting incapacitating headaches, usually the day after hard races or long rides; I think I've lost so much strength and flexibility that my spinal erectors are putting pressure on the base of my skull and causing mind-numbing tension headaches. I've had to stay home from work a couple of times, they've been so bad!

Even excruciating pain hasn't been enough to get me to strength train, though. You know what's made me get back to strength training? Dirty Kanza. Because 200 miles of gravel on a bike with no suspension will demand a lot of my arms and core, and I don't think I have that right now. I don't want to pull out of DK200 before the last checkpoint because I have an unmanageable headache, and I don't want to crash because I lack the endurance in my core to handle my bike well after 12 hours in the saddle.

Ultimately, being strong all over will serve me in my whole life. But I can't seem to motivate myself to train for it except as a means to be a better cyclist.

Things that are happening

There's been plenty of action in my neck of the woods this winter!

I live in the Bay Area now. The weather and cycling are awesome, the housing prices not so much. Actively looking for a racing team, and they all seem friendly and terrific!

I'm applying for doctorate of physical therapy programs to begin this fall. Other than that, not working yet. Lots of free time for exploring the local cycling scene.

I won a lottery entry to Dirty Kanza 200! So I guess I need to put some water bottle cages on my 'cross bike.

If I were a better blogger I'd write more about this stuff, but for right now I'm too busy riding outside in the awesome California weather!

Race Report: BikenetiCX

In which: I get last place, but have a move named after me!

Sometimes, there are no words that will communicate the pain and ecstasy of cyclocross racing. I give you, instead, my race in pictures:

The one in the rainbow stripes comes by them honestly; she's a masters world champion! Photo credit: Dominion Cycling Photography

Having a fine time in the first lap! Photo credit: Dominion Cycling Photography

Still in the first lap, I'm sitting second wheel to the race leader. Photo credit: Dominion Cycling Photography

And now I give you my crowning glory: The Morton!

 And in sequence:

Now let's see it from another angle:

That giant playing card is for a prize, by the way. I don't normally ride with playing cards in my mouth.

And one more, so you really get the idea:

The Morton, that's what the cool kids are calling it! Photo credit: Darrell Parks

You'll probably want a GIF of that.

via GIPHY
And that's pretty much all you need to know about my BikenetiCX race!

(Although, if you're interested, I got last place in the women's 1/2/3 and lost the Sportif Cup by 3 points because I raced the 1/2/3 instead of the 3/4. Even so, I feel this was a fitting end to my MABRA cyclocross career. I mean I have a move named after me. That's better than any trophy!)

Big Changes Coming

I have an announcement to make:

Emily got a job in Northern California. We are moving to the Bay Area after the first of the year!

I will really miss the community I've come to know and love her in the D.C. metro. I'll miss my team, Veloworks-Spokes, Etc.; I'll miss my MABRA women's racing community; I'll miss my Team-Not-Team cyclocross group; I'll miss my workplace, Sport & Health, and all of the wonderful clients I've been privileged to train over the past three years; and I'll miss the beautiful terrain, the dedicated cycling paths, the ability to get so many places in this area by bike.

I'm going into a new environment sight unseen. I'll need to find a new team, a new gym, a new community. I'll need to get to know a new area with new and different terrain. I'll have to explore new bike paths and routes to get around my new home. And I'll have to find a good and trust-worthy bike shop.

I don't know anything about what the racing is like in Northern California. I've heard it's hilly; will I be too fat to do well? I just upgraded to cat. 3 at the end of the road season, and I'm about to upgrade to a cat. 2 in 'cross. Will I be able to keep up with that level in a new and more competitive region? Will I find a team that balances social and competitive well? Will the community welcome me?

I was very apprehensive about moving across the country when Emily was interviewing for jobs. But now that I know for sure that we're moving, I'm very excited! I'm going to explore a part of the country I've never visited extensively (the only time I went to NorCal while attending USC was for the Berkeley Bearathlon, the hardest sprint triathlon I've ever done). I'll get to ride my bike by the ocean and in the mountains. We'll be close to surfing and close to skiing. And I'm already getting back in touch with people I knew in college.

Also, I fully intend to buy a mountain bike once we get out there to fully enjoy what West Coast cycling has to offer!

Race Report: S'Ville Bikes CX & Winchester Apple CX

In which: I do not win

This was my first weekend in the 1/2/3 fields. I haven't yet upgraded to cat. 2; I'll still do Taneytown as a cat. 3. But after that, it will be time to upgrade, and I will have to race with the elites. These races gave me a preview of what that might be like.

S'Ville Bikes CX
Looking at the pre-registration before Saturday, I wasn't overly nervous. All the women registered were people I'd beaten before--which isn't to say that I always beat them or expected to beat them, but I felt like I was in a field that matched my abilities. Then, in line for the port-a-potties, I spotted a familiar face behind me. It was Julie Kuliecza, professional road cyclist and woman who is much faster than I. Besides being a little intimidated, I was also excited to see how hard a professional can go, and how hard I would need to work as a result.

Rain began to fall as we rolled over to staging, and the temperature had plummeted since I'd arrived two hours before. The course was mostly grass, a little uneventful, with a few long, steady uphills and one short single-track section in the woods. With rain falling steadily, I figured everyone now had way too much air in their tires, but at least we'd all have about the same disadvantage. Five of us rolled off in the 1/2/3 field. Julie took the hole shot, and for a while I was on her wheel! She almost slid out going too fast through a corner, which let us all know to be more careful. For a second, I thought I might be able to ride with her. Then she looked back, saw all of us still in touch, and turned on the gas. She rolled right away from the four of us and we didn't see her again until the podium. "Don't go too fast, Julie!" we yelled after her, because we didn't want to have to do five laps.

Teammate Beth was on my wheel throughout the first lap. Going into the woods, I tried to ride hard and take good lines so I wouldn't slow her down or mess her up (Beth is better than I am, technically). Instead, I hit a sharp rock and gashed a huge cut in my rear tubular's sidewall. We were close to the end of the first lap, and a short distance from the pit. I rolled on my flat tire to the pit and switched out for my pit bike. In the meantime, second (Beth) and third flew past me, along with several of the cat. 3/4 women. I came out of the pit still within sight of them, and tried to catch back on. But second and third always stayed out of my reach. The course was so wide open that I could see them dueling back and forth. Lisa would gain on the power sections and Beth would gain on the technical sections. Eventually, Lisa put the hammer down on a hill and dropped Beth. I rode the last lap trying to maintain my gap. I didn't want to catch Beth--both because she is my teammate and I didn't want to knock her off of the podium and because I wasn't sure that I could. But then Lisa dropped her chain and Beth and I both rode past her for second and third place. So we got to share the podium with a pro!

And Beth and I both have the leaders jerseys in the series: her for the 1/2/3 and me for the 3/4!

Winchester Apple CX
Apple CX may be the toughest non-UCI race on the circuit. It has several interesting features, so the course is long and hard, but it doesn't seem long and hard because you're always coming up on another technical section. There's a steep run-up (The Belgian Wall) into an off-camber and another run-up; there are a couple of super-fast single-track descents; there are lots of swoopy turns sections; everything flows together nicely and makes a really cohesive, challenging course!

I had a front-row start with some of the toughest women in the region. My nerves were so bad I was babbling. My hope was to mess up the start so I wouldn't have the pressure of having to hang with MABRA's best. Ever have a morning where you're not exactly tired but you don't feel like enduring the kind of pain necessary to perform well in a competitive race? That's how I felt. I didn't want to subject myself to the sort of hurt those women can dish out.

I really needn't have worried myself about feeling pressured to hang with them; I was off the back after the first three turns. I was so far out of my league, it was hilarious. There was one woman I could have out-ridden; she would put in big efforts on every power section (and I didn't care enough to try to match them) and then I would catch her wheel again in anything technical. But she really wanted it more than I did, and I was content to let her ride off with second-to-last place while I brought up the rear.

With all the 1/2/3s out of sight ahead of me and in no danger of being caught by the 3s and 4s behind me, I set about riding the cleanest race I could. The course was amazing, and it was so much fun to be riding without trying to win. I got DFL at Winchester Apple CX, and no one can take that away from me!

I have had a really good season, and it is nearly at its end. I have Taneytown this weekend, Capital CX the weekend after that, and BikenetiCX to finish everything off. I've seen the podium a few times and even won a few races! I've upgraded from cat. 3 to cat. 2. I'm content with what I've accomplished, and I'll probably take it easy and enjoy riding in the 1/2/3 field for those last few races (even if I'm DFL every time). I imagine next season I'll get frustrated with being at the back, and it will light my fire to improve. Until then, I'm content to bring up the rear!

Race Report: South Germantown CX

In which I get my confidence back

I raced all of the Super 8 (now the Super Series) races last year. But I only raced the Super 8 series races. I didn't do any of the Sportif Cup races. Most of the races in MABRA Land are associated with one of those two series. Since I only did Super 8 last year, there's a whole half of the races in the area that I'd never done! South Germantown CX was one of those.

The course was mostly open with a surprising amount of long, gradual uphill drags. The grass wasn't too thick and the ground wasn't too rough. There was one short, steep off-camber section, but most of the turns were really wide and designed for carrying speed. It was kind of a grass crit . . . which is absolutely perfect for me! It was also about 18° when I started pre-riding. The last race I did was a balmy 65°. This is the first race of the season where I've had to wear gloves. Those kinds of temperatures are bad but bearable, but they came on so suddenly that my body was not prepared.

This was my first time wearing the Sportif Cup leader's jersey, too. It's bright orange and hard to miss, but it entitles me to a front row starting position. I got the hole shot from the start and went off the front right away. For the first quarter of a lap or so, the field was strung out on my wheel. I tried to measure my effort and not go too deep too soon, but the first section of that course is all uphill! I always tell myself I'm going to sit in and let someone else set the pace, but then I end up on the front like a dummy anyway.

I'm not sure how or why I, but I managed to open a gap to the rest of the field. I went hard on the rest of that lap and increased my lead. By the end of the lap, I had a good gap to second place. The course was so open, though, that I could see the race developing behind me. I worked my way through the master's field, and caught one of the 1/2/3 women. My back and hips were cramping by the end of lap two (I've had cramping trouble in training all this week, I assume because it got so cold so suddenly). As a result, I was off and on the gas for the second half of the race. I could see second place behind me, and she steadily gained on me through the first half of the course. Then I would either pick it up on the second half, or the course just suited me better. Either way, starting each lap I could see that I'd grown my lead again. But every time I would think, "Okay, I can probably ease up a little," second place was right there to push me forward again. So I would ease up enough to relieve the cramping, then gun it again to maintain my lead.

Fortunately, my body didn't shut down so much that I had to stop entirely. I rode a clean race, too--not at all like Biketoberfest CX! I felt my rear wheel slipping slightly in a tacky turn on the last lap, but otherwise rode perfect. My two-week break from racing served me well. I feel refreshed. Excited to race. My confidence is restored.

And on that note . . . mid-way through this race, I started thinking that it's time to dip my toes into the 1/2/3 waters. I am still shy of the upgrade points needed to move from cat. 3 to cat. 2, although I'm getting close. And I'd still like to win the Sportif Cup Series in the cat. 3/4, if I can! But I think I will race up in the 1/2/3 for the next race (S'ville CX, if the promoter will let me) and see how it goes. I imagine that I will have my butt kicked, but that's probably a good thing.

Anyway, cross is fun and I like it. The people I get to race with are really cool. Even with no teammates around at this race, I still was among friends. That's a great feeling. We have a good thing going in the women's scene here in MABRA Land.

Race Report: Biketoberfest CX

Wasn't it a beautiful day for racing?

In which I learn why one shouldn't "send it" on a cross bike.

Saturday morning was beautiful for cross. A gentle chill was in the air, but the sky was bright blue and the sun was bright in the sky. I pre-rode the course (one which I'd never done before) and really enjoyed it! One of my teammates had mentioned that there was a lot of elevation change in it. That always worries me, but this was the kind of elevation change that suits me, with mostly short, punchy climbs that reward raw power over power-to-weight ratio. Also, there was only one place where I'd have to get off my bike, and I always love that. If I wanted to run I'd go back to triathlon, amirite?

I got a great start from the front row, but settled in at second wheel behind a woman I know is strong (she beat me at Schooley Mill). She was cornering better than me. I had to expend a little extra power after each turn to keep the gaps down. The whole 3/4 field was strung out behind us, too. I took a downhill left-hander a little too wide and went right into a stake. While I was disentangling my handelbars from course tape, the whole field passed me. I went from second to last, just like that. I was able to work my way back up to third using the power climbs in the first half of the course. Then we went downhill into a little pump section, a double hump where you could catch some serious air. I thought, "I got this. I'm gonna send." So I sent it. I probably caught about a foot off of that jump. And I did manage to land it, although my expensive carbon bike made a horrible sound, my handlebars slipped down, and I crashed (softly). I got up as quickly as I could and tried to adjust my handlebars, but nothing doing.

The position was awkward, with my drop about 3 inches lower than normal, but it was rideable. So I rode it around to the pit and grabbed my pit bike. Friend, teammate, and all-star mechanic Clay was in the pit for me (and teammate Beth, who was racing the 1/2/3s) and he had my A bike back together by the time I came around the other side of the pit. I pitted again and set off to try to re-capture some places.

That went pretty well for a while, and I think I worked myself back up into 4th (although I had no idea where I was sitting in the standings at that point). Another woman and I were trading 4th place--I would pull ahead on the short power stuff, she would pull ahead on the long drags--until the last time going over a log onto a long run-up. I was just about to pass her, but when I tried to re-mount after the log, I couldn't pedal. My rear quick release had come loose and the wheel had unseated. I fiddle around with it while 5th place passed me. I thought I had it fixed and started running with 5th, but when I tried to re-mount, I still couldn't pedal. I fiddled with my quick release a little more. Then 6th place passed me. I finally got my rear wheel sorted. At that point, I wasn't angry or frustrated. Really, what can you do? I rode as hard as I could to see if I could gain any more places, and was able to pass one woman to take 6th in the field.

In retrospect, the racing itself didn't feel that hard. At one point, I even asked myself, "Why am I not going harder?" Like last weekend at DCCX, my brain held me back more than my body. Two stupid mistakes cost me big-time in the first half of the race. And I'm lucky I didn't hurt myself going over that jump; a guy later in the day crashed there and broke six ribs. It would be easy to say, "If only x and y hadn't happened, I would have been on the podium." But x and y didn't happen to me; I happened to me! I made those mistakes, and the people on the podium were able to race clean (or mostly clean).

Even with all that happened, I had a fantastic time. I wasn't mad or frustrated (or crying, like last weekend) at myself; I was laughing! The errors I made were silly, and this is just a game. A fun game with bruises and heckling and beer. Plus, the day was beautiful, the course fun (for me), and the weather gorgeous.

Going into Biketoberfest, I was sitting second in the overall for the Sportif Cup, and the leader wasn't racing. I did enough (just barely) to hold off third place for the lead, so at South Germantown CX I get to wear this cool jersey!

It'll go well with my hair.

I skipped racing Sunday, and I'm not racing this weekend. I look forward to some long, slow zone 2 rides with my team in the beautiful fall weather!

Race Report: DCCX

This is what success looks like!

DCCX is one of the highlights of the CX calendar in MABRA land. It's a UCI race and it's in the District of Columbia, so everyone comes out for it. The atmosphere is terrific, the racing is hard, and the race directors do an unusually good job with port-a-johns; they even have them cleaned out between Saturday's racing and Sunday's racing!

I expected the racing to be tough, since the promise of racing on the same course as the pros always draws a larger and deeper field (if not quite so large and deep as Charm City, which had a C1 race and was part of the US Pro Cup). Additionally, the strongest 3s, who normally race the 1/2/3 field locally, join the straight 3 race since the elite race is a P/1/2. I had a few friends who raced the pros on Saturday and Sunday. I didn't envy them, but that will probably be my fate next year. If I work hard in the off-season, maybe I'll be able to finish on the lead lap.

Anyway. My race Saturday was awesome. I got a good start. I rode almost all the features smoothly. I knew that first and second were probably out of my reach, based on previous experience with those two women (girls really; they're 13 and 12 years old). I spent most of the race in fifth place, battling hard for fourth. I caught fourth place (another teenager!) with about 400 m to go in the race and held it to the end. So I got to stand on the podium at DCCX! Fourth place! Whoo!

And this is what mental fatigue looks like.

Sunday, I woke up feeling unmotivated. I didn't feel tired or sore or weak; I felt mentally tired and I didn't want to be there. I crashed hard during my pre-ride in a fast downhill section that I took too fast. There was some gravel in the corner, and I got into it right as I was turning. Fell over on my right side, banged my foot on my pedal (I was worried I'd broken it!), scraped up my elbow, and banged my head on the ground. One of the Bikenetic men saw me go down and helped me off the course. He sat with me until I felt I could go on, but I escaped largely unscathed!

I'm still sitting second place in the series, so I still get a front-row starting spot. I got a terrible start, though, and entered the first turn close to the very back of the field. There was a big crash in one of the first turns, though, and I was able to scoot past it on the left side. That got me a huge number of places back. I was able to work my way back up to about 10th place over the course of the first lap. I managed to catch and pass 8th and 9th in the second or third lap, and felt I could hold them off if I could just ride clean.

I did not ride clean, though. I slipped and fell in a loose right-hand turn that I thought I had dialed. Scraped my elbow on the EXACT SAME SPOT as I hit in my pre-ride crash, which burned like fire. Also took a bunch of skin off of my right calf, and my right hip, and my right shoulder. I somersaulted over my bike and took a second to determine whether I still wanted to go on while 9th and 10th re-passed me. I got up and re-mounted and set to work catching them again. I caught them with no trouble, but was waiting for the right moment to pass. In the final lap, I went down AGAIN in a loose chicane that was a tough turn (lots of crashes there all weekend, great viewing as a spectator) but that hadn't troubled me all weekend. I took all the skin off of my other side, 8th and 9th got a big gap on me, and I mentally said, "Just get me outta here."

I gave up at that point and forced myself to keep pedaling to the end. I managed to make one more big mistake on one of the final turns, where the course crested a hill, went over a tiny little curb onto the road, and then dropped down the other side of the hill before making one more turn onto the finishing straight. So I went into the uphill too fast, cleared the curb, but then totally screwed up my landing and came down so hard on my front wheel that I was convinced I'd broken the carbon or popped a spoke. So at that point I had crashed three times and was pretty sure that I'd broken my bike. I crossed the finish line and rolled off the course, frustrated more than tired, and skinned up all over. The woman I'd been battling for 9th place is a friend of mine, and she was ready with a hug and a "Nice racing!" That helped. Then I rolled back to the team tent, grabbed a water bottled, and rolled off on my own to cool down . . . and have a good cry. I sat on the steps by an abandoned building (the Soldiers' and Airmen's Home, the military retirement grounds where DCCX is held, has a lot of abandoned buildings), burning tear tracks through the dust on my face, and felt sorry for myself. And after about 5 minutes of that, I felt better. And I drank a bunch of beer and talked with my friends and shared stories about all our races and one of my teammates gave me baby wipes to clean off my (many) scrapes . . . and everything was good and fine and I still had an amazing time.

I'm proud of my performance on Saturday, but I've overcooked my brain with all the racing I've been doing. I could have raced much harder and probably been in the contention for 6th place on Sunday, but I didn't have the mental strength. Teaching my spin class on Monday mornings after a double race weekend is normally torture, but this morning my legs felt fresh. That tells me that I'm not overtrained physically; I'm overtrained mentally. So I'm going to shift my focus for the rest of the season and try to hone in on the Sportif Cup races, where I'm sitting second in the overall series. I won AACX, the Sportif Cup race last weekend. A few more wins and I think I'll have the overall lead. I may sit out the rest of the Super Series, or at least take a few weekends off. I'm missing the long, enjoyable, zone 2 rides with my teammates, and I miss the camaraderie of spending hours on the bike with them.

So that was DCCX--the good, bad, and ugly. I plan to take a weekend of long, easy rides and enjoy the feeling of being on a bike. And then I'll race Biketoberfest CX on Saturday and I'll hang out at Tacchino CX on Sunday (but I won't race). (Probably). (Emily, stop reading this).

2017 Charm City CX Day 1 Women 3

Race Reports: Sykelocross, Hyattsville, and Charm City

I've been delinquent in my race reports. We have some catching up to do!

Sykesville didn't go well for me. It was meltingly hot. The course was really hard--technical and with a lot of elevation gain. I had high expectations after my performance at Hub Labels, but did not live up to them. My body absolutely exploded in the heat. I can't handle heat well, I assume because I'm small and muscular, and it places a ceiling on what I can do in the heat. I hit that ceiling hard at Sykelocross. Emily came to watch this one, but I didn't do a great job for her to watch (and she doesn't handle heat well either). Ended up 5th out of 19, so a decent showing! The results were all kinds of screwed up because the timing chip computers went down. So we stayed long enough for me to protest the results, then headed out before we melted! Considering how terrible I felt throughout the race, I'm happy with 5th.

Too tired and scared to post up properly. I would totally be the person who crashes in the finishing straight.

Hyattsville couldn't have gone much better because I frickin' won! Hyattsville is basically a grass crit with only one little climb. I got the hole shot and held the lead for most of the race, except for one little stretch where one of the local butt-kicking teens passed me. I passed her back and held a gap to the end by playing up my punchiness. I assume it's harder to be punchy when you're a 90-pound 14-year-old. First win as a cat. 3 in cyclocross, and it gave me the lead in the BikeReg Super Series!

Charm City CX was presented to me as the hardest race on the circuit. It did not disappoint. Since it's a UCI C1/C2 race, AND it's a part of the new US CX Cup, AND it's a little farther north than most of the MABRA races, so it draws the top cyclists in every category from MABRA, Virginia, Pennsylvania, maybe even New Jersey. I met people from as far north as Philly and as far south as Charlottesville. The women's fields were big! And they were full of talented women (and by that I mean waaaay more talented than me)! I won't go through the blow-by-blow, but basically the teenagers blew my doors off and won everything. There were other women my age who also blew my doors off, but the teenagers were the stars of the weekend in the cat. 3 races! Both days, I hit a brick wall in lap 2 and my back and hips went into spasm. Then it went away in the 4th and 5th laps (5 laps both days) and I was able to claw some positions back. Ended up 7th on day 1 and 10th on day 2. I think I still have 2nd place in the series, so I still have a shot at the overall!