Race Upcoming...50 on the Trails

All year I've been looking forward to the River's Edge Mountain Bike Marathon that's coming up this Saturday. And I guess I still am, but taking a week and a half off the bike right before the race for some well-earned beach vacation time, may have affected me more than I realized it would.

The Crystal Coast in the Southern Outer Banks (SOBX) of North Carolina is a beautiful place. I left the bike at home as a sign to my family that this trip was really all about them. I figured while on vacation, I could run on the beach to aid in keeping my fitness. Well, I got a little too excited and overdid it the first day (I sense a pattern with me - no restraint). The rest of the week was spent limping around with very sore legs and joints - bad move.

Now, back on the bike this week, I feel very weak. Like there's no power left although there's gas in the tank. I took a good spill last night on the trails and had a rather sensitve area come into contact with the stem at a pretty high rate of speed - one of those things where you just grit your teeth and lean against a tree for support until you can breath again. It's a common false assumption that women are less prone to pain in that area than men. Don't argue with me. It's not a debate. Anyway, the bruise is quite impressive this morning.

So, 50 mile bike race in 3 days and I can't even finish one 12 mile lap without crashing...yay, this is gonna be fun.

This Was Supposed to be ME!

When I decided to take up bike racing, I fancied myself as the racer who would make everyone’s jaw drop to the floor with my mad skillz. I was gonna be so good they were going to call me the “Lance Armstrong of Women’s cycling.” Then I did my first race…and all my aspirations went poof as I swallowed a huge pill called reality on a planet I like to call Earth.

But, it doesn’t mean the scenario couldn’t happen. And, in fact, it IS happening. Evelyn Stevens is an investment banker who played tennis at Dartmouth (quick side note: have you ever noticed how the majority of the cycling world is well educated and holds powerful career positions? Hm…). She was a CAT-4 racer one year ago. And where is she this week? Winning Stage freakin’ 4 of La Route de France 28 minutes ahead of the peloton! That’s where.

Over the course of about 15 months, Evelyn has:

- Bought her first bike (Spring 2008).
- Entered her first race, a training clinic in Central Park (June 2008).
- Won the Green Mountain Stage Race (Vermont), after catching and passing the Pro Women’s field that started 5 minutes ahead of her own field.
- Won the RR and placed 2nd in the Crit at the Valley of the Sun (Arizona).
- Participated in some of the biggest races in the U.S. – Redlands, Nature Valley, Battenkill , and Cascade Classic to name a few.
- As an amateur, riding as a guest on the Lip Smacker Pro Team, won the Fitchburg Longsjo Classic in Massachusetts, an NRC race, ahead of riders like Tina Pic and Jeannie Longo.
- Won her first major European race by taking Stage 4 in La Route de France.

Hold on. Let me pick up my jaw.

MC Spandx - "Performance"

Crossroads Classic 2009

I jumped back into criterium racing this weekend. And, you know what? It didn’t suck as bad as I thought it would.

Harrisburg, NC. Crossroads Classic. Women’s 3/4. That’s right, a 3/4 race (I’ve been begging all season)! There were about 20 women entered in the race. I was quite excited to get to the start line. Perhaps a little too excited. Let’s face it, training for 300 miles at 24 Hours of Booty hardly prepares you for the heart rate spikes and recovery that is criterium racing. A tactical racer would have taken that into account before throwing her first attack on only the second lap, which is what I did. From that point, the race was on!

And it never really slowed down. We were strung out single file nearly the whole race. Knowing that I have no sprint right now, attacking was my strategy. I had my teammate, Madonna, with me to take care of the sprint finish so my role was to get in a breakaway. I attacked 3 times in the first half of the race and led some chases as well. Basically, I spent all I had way too quickly. I tried like hell to get away, but couldn’t make it stick. Madonna ended up flatting with 4 laps to go and I dropped off the back with about a lap and a half to go, which was fine with me. Like I said, I wasn’t going to contest the sprint. I should have read the race better and timed my attacks more intelligently. We’ll just call it a learning experience.

Despite finishing low in the standings, I had fun in this race. Instead of hanging on for dear life in the Women’s Open field, I got to employ some tactics (even if I employed them poorly). After the race, some of the guys on my team commented on the speed of the race – they couldn’t believe they were watching a 3/4 race. It didn’t really surprise me to find out we averaged 23mph.

What did surprise me was to find out our 23mph ended up being faster than the Women’s Open race later in the day.

They Say Hate is a Strong Word

Well, then, consider this: Cancer, I fucking hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! I hate what you do to our loved ones and I hate what you do to our families. I hate how you tear our bodies up and I hate the tailspin of pain you inflict.

Elden Nelson, aka Fat Cyclist in the blogosphere, has been documenting his wife’s battle with cancer for some time now. In recent weeks, with Susan under Hospice care, Elden has managed to keep it together and write blog posts regarding his wife that have some of the most inspiring words I’ve ever read.

Susan died the other night. When I read the news I found myself immediately deeply depressed and fighting off an onslaught of emotion. Had I not been at work, I would have let it flow. However, I did take an early lunch.

Isn’t it strange how much differently emotional pain affects us compared to physical pain? I’ve never met Elden or his wife and family. Yet reading his posts and hearing of Susan’s passing allows the pain of my Grandmother’s death to easily resurface. I instantly get taken back to the phone call. I don’t remember why I was answering the phone in the library of our home on Nordic Hill Circle, but that’s where I was. The room had three walls of windows and there was light all around. I picked up the phone, “Hello?”

“I, Jodi, it’s Mom.”

“Hi Mom”
Silence.

“Mom?”
Silence.

“She’s gone, isn’t she?”

"yes" Mom's voice was abnormally small as if the word didn't want to be spoken.

I remember exactly how I felt at that moment. I let out an uncontrollable cry. Every ounce of air left me. I was completely deflated and couldn’t seem to draw a breath. My stomach was tight with nausea and there was an undeniable crushing feeling of loss in the center of my chest. I seem to experience it all over again when I read stories like Elden's.

On the other hand, barely two weeks ago I was suffering on my bike trying to break myself on a 300 mile bike ride that was causing so much pain I could hardly stand it. I don’t remember that pain anymore. I remember thinking I was in pain and I remember saying I would never do that again. But here I am 2 weeks later, and I’m already considering having another go at it. I can’t force myself to feel that physical pain again, try as I might.

My Grandmother died 21 years ago. 21 years. So, I’ll say it again. Cancer, I fucking hate you. Time may heal all wounds, but watching a loved one suffer and die never leaves you. No amount of ice packs and Tylenol can take care of that kind of pain.

Fight like Susan.