BuDu Race #4 - Soaring Eagle Park Pt II

I didn't know whether or not I would be racing today. It depended on how Zach was feeling. Thankfully, Zach was feeling a bit better. I'm not just thankful that I got to race. I do care about my children too. Anyway, Sharon was feeling OK about watching all 3 kids while I raced. At about 9:15, as I was getting my gear together, I passed by the windows at the front of the house. I notices that my car was not parked out front. This meant that our au pair Catherine had my car.

I asked Sharon if she was supposed to be back by any specific time. She replied, "Oops. I was supposed to ask you and tell her what time to be here." Very hard to get mad, based on the day/night we had last night. But it was a bummer. I had just gotten excited about being able to race and rushed to get my gear together. I couldn't take the other car and leave Sharon without one with Zach being as sick as he is.

Something finally went right for me though. Sharon was able to reach Catherine and she got home with the car in about 20min. I was driving away from the house at 10:00. Not ideal with an 11:00 start 30 minutes away, but better than nothing.

Yesterday was a very wet day, so I expected it to be muddy out there. Muddy was a huge understatement. I should have been on a singlespeed, because my derailleurs were pretty worthless within a few minutes. Check out the pics I took with my phone after the race:
Mmmmm...peanut butter

no wonder I couldn't shift



not much drinking happening out there today

I needed a hose out there



somehow my face didn't get covered





more evidence of why I couldn't downshift

For the Coffee Geeks...

Coffee is an integral part of life, and therefore cycling as well. I drink shots (from my Rancilio Silvia), but I make lattes for Sharon (my wife). I have become obsessed with latte art. Funny, because I don't even drink lattes. I just need to be able to do it for Sharon. The baristas that do it well make it look so easy. Trust me, it is not.

I'm still struggling, and not close to getting good latte art every time. But I did succeed a couple times that were worth photographing (at least for me, anyway).

The Challenges of Training in March...in Seattle

I've done two races in the BuDu series so far. I was starting to think about tomorrow's race, when it dawned on me that I was supposedly using these races as a training tool. The plan was to do a big ride on Saturday, then race Sunday. But for the last two races, I rode light on Saturday because I was racing Sunday. So this weekend, I had to get back on the training program. I planned a big ride for Saturday, and then the race on Sunday. It should be a good test of where I am at in my preparation for Spokane.

Now for the real challenge part of the story. Did you think just racing the day after a big ride was it? No way. Today's forecast called for rain and temps ranging from 35-48. Not exactly the ideal conditions for 7 hours on a mountain bike. My plan was to ride to Woodinville and do two laps of the Thrilla route. That would total 36 miles on the paved bike trail and 42 miles on the dirt, for a grand total of 78 miles.

I am just coming off of a week of unbelievable sickness in my household. We had cold/flu, ear infections, and pinkeye. All at once. Jake and Kayla had ear infections. Jake got pinkeye and gave it to Kayla and me. And everyone had varying degrees of coughs and runny noses. I hadn't really ridden all week. Sometimes a break from the bike is just what you need while training. I was eager to see how I would feel.

So I geared up for the conditions. That means my winter boots...with hand warmers inside the shoes on top of my toes. Then saran wrap around the boots to help keep water out. Then booties over everything. Add to that my winter bibs, a jacket, and 4 pairs of gloves. Not all at once, but I brought 3 extras in my Camelbak. I could have brought 5 extras. But I sure was glad to have the 3 I brought.

I made it into the first lap on the dirt before my feet were soaked. They actually felt OK though...for a while. Then the cold started setting in. My hands were frozen by the time I got the start of the first lap, but I stopped at the heated bathrooms and changed into my first backup pair of gloves. Happiness.

Start of lap two and another pair of fresh gloves. Now my feet are really getting cold. But on the trail, you don't get as much wind on your feet and the climbing helps keep you warm. But then there is the 1 hour+ ride home on the bike trail. I was not looking forward to that.

I've been riding a lot lately in the mud, so I've been paying careful attention to my brake pads. It can be extremely abrasive sometimes riding in the rain and mud. People don't believe me, but my friend Brad can attest. I once went through an only slightly worn brake pad in one ride. Brad and I both were metal on metal by the end of the ride. I have never forgotten that experience and generally pay close attention. I had it happen again once while training on the road bike for last year's 24-hour race. I did about 150 miles on the road in the rain. By the end of the ride, my brakes sounded really awful. But there is not much you can do. I don't carry extra pads for my road bike with me. By the end of the ride, I had ruined my wheels by carving gouges in the braking surface with the metal body of the brake because the pad was completely gone.

So back to today. My rear brake was feeling a little soft the last couple rides. I knew that it was about time to replace the pads, and I planned on going to the bike shop this weekend for a new pair. I didn't think of putting on some spares that I keep around. They are metal pads and I prefer resin, but I keep them for the situation where I really needs pads and don't care which kind they are. I looked at the pads and estimated that I would be fine for today. I could not have been more wrong.

There is a hill on the ride called Heart Attack hill. In the direction I was going, you ride down it. On lap two, as I descended, my rear brake starting making a bad sound. There was not much I could do, other than walk down. As cold as my feet were and as bad as I wanted the ride to be over, there was no way I was stopping. I got to the bottom and rode to the heated bathroom. I got off the bike and inspected my rear brake. What a surprise! One of my pads was completely gone. And I don't mean just the pad. I probably shouldn't admit this, but the metal backing was almost gone and it appeared that part of the piston was starting to rub against the rotor.

The worst part of the story is that I suddenly realized that I had put one of my spare metal sets of pads in my Camelbak for just such an occasion. So had I checked my brake sooner and seen how low it was getting during the ride, I could have replaced it. But hindsight is 20/20.

Here are some pictures of what is left of my pads:
carnage

the "good" pad (miniscule amount left)

the "bad" pad

do you think it got a little hot?

something missing?


I inspected the brakes and cleaned them up a bit. It appeared to be functioning. I put on the extra pads and started the ride home. I had saved my Gore super-warm gloves for last and put them on. My hands were toasty, but my feet were miserable. If you have been skiing before and had really cold feet, just think of that. Now put yourself on a bike and think about riding for over an hour to get home. Not fun.

As I rode, I slowly shrank into my dark, bad place. I was suffering. I started beating myself up for slacking off so bad on my training. How can I even come close to my goals for Spokane this year, if I can't even handle a simple 80-mile training ride? I need to do more than double that in Spokane. I was really getting down on myself, when I realized that fitness-wise, I was fine. It was misery about my feet that was sending me into a tailspin. I actually felt pretty good if you took my throbbing aching blocks of ice known as feet out of the equation.

That helped a little, but it was still a rough ride home. Kind of a blur actually, which was nice. But that's when the real fun was just about to start. Sharon informed me that Zach really wasn't feeling well. I peeled off my filthy wet gear and went to go shower. Zach was in our bed in tears. I got out of the shower quicker than planned with my feet still numb.

We decided to bring him into the after-hours Pediatric clinic at Children's Hospital. Thankfully, Sharon let me pass out in the waiting room for 20-30 minutes while we waited. We finally got called, and they measured Zach's temperature at over 105 degrees! Poor guy. Everything pointed toward Strep, which made sense, because the school had just contacted us to let us know that there was a case of Strep in the school. But Zach's test came back negative. They were so surprised that they did a 2nd test...still negative. But they gave us a prescription for antibiotics anyway, just in case. Kayla and Jake are already taking it for their ear infections, so hopefully they are protected from Zach passing this sickness to them.

The nurses and doctors were really nice and took great care of us. Jake and Kayla were hungry and it was past everyone's bedtime. Zach told me after the doctor left the room at one point, "She is really nice". Then he added, "All of the people here that helped try to fix me were really nice. Especially, the lady that gave me a popsicle and juice." By now the ibuprofen they gave Zach was kicking in. He was no longer radiating heat off his body and he was quite talkative with the staff. A sure sign he was feeling better.

Now it's after 8:00 and everyone is tired and hungry. We made a quick stop at the store for food and medicine, then home. As I write this, everyone seems to be sleeping soundly.

As for me racing tomorrow, who knows. Depends on how Zach is doing and how my bike is doing. I never got a chance to go out and inspect it closer. And I never got a chance to go to the bike shop and get brake pads. Check in again tomorrow to see if I make it out to Soaring Eagle for the race. Good night.

Zicam and a Little Sunshine

I've heard a lot of people recommending Zicam lately. It's one of those homeopathic cold remedies that includes Zinc. It is supposed to help reduce the symptoms of a cold if you start taking it as soon as you feel the first signs of a cold coming on. I had stored it away in my mind for the next time I felt like I was getting sick.

The kids and Sharon have had runny noses and coughs for several days. I was starting to think that I had gotten through it, when I woke up and felt the scrachiness in my throat that usually means a cold is coming on. I went to the store and bought some Zicam. I didn't realize that it would involve so many choices. There is Zicam swabs for the inside of your nose, Zicam throat spray, and Zicam soft gels. I chose the soft gels.

Now there is no way of knowing what would have happened had I not taken the Zicam, but my guess is that I would not have felt up to riding a lot of miles on Saturday. But with the Zicam, I headed out for a ride. The original plan had been to ride from home and do 2 Thrilla loops, for a total of 78 miles on the mountain bike.

Because I wasn't sure about how I would feel after riding for a few hours, I decided to drive to Redhook. Sharon was encouraging me to drive as well. But I think her motives were less about my well-being and more about the fact that she wanted a salmon sandwich for dinner ;-)

So the goal was to do 3 Thrilla laps for a total of 63 miles, but all on the trail. Had I ridden from home, it would be 36 on the road and 42 on the trail. As it turned out, I only felt up to doing 2 laps for 42 miles. But that was still better than sitting at home on the couch. Plus, the forecast for the day was cloudy with a high of 52 degrees! We even had a little sunshine, and I had to push my arm warmers down because I was getting too hot!

Can't wait for summer.

On Time at Last

I'm a little late with this post, as it is about Wednesday's ride:

So I finally made it to my Wednesday night ride on time. Actually, I left my house early. To prove that I was on time, I text messaged my friend Brad at 5:01 as I was rolling away from my house.

The ride to Redhook was uneventful. I got to the parking lot with 10 minutes to spare. That was a first. We got the group together and took off. It wasn't a full moon, but something strange was going on. Shortly into the ride there are some short steep sections that I always fall behind on. I was pushing hard to catch up to the front group, when I crashed.

The Wednesday night ride is on a very mellow course, mostly comprised of pancake flat multi-use fire road trail. There are not a lot of opportunities to crash. Unfortunately, I was going too fast on a short section of paved trail that was wet and had some moss growing on it (pretty slick). Down I went, but thankfully fell into the entrance to the trail and had a soft landing in the dirt.

Now, it was basically impossible to catch up because it took me a minute or two to pull myself together and get going again. So I was really surprised when I came around a bend and there was the fast group stopped in front of me. Joe was on the phone. As it turned out, someone had gotten lost. This was a first, unless you count the first time I ever did the Thrilla when I got left behind and got lost.

Joe had to ride back to find the folks that had lost their way, but the rest of us went on ahead. Once again, I fell behind on a climb and was surprised to come across Dan on the side of the trail, halfway up Horse Pasture Hill. He was on his single-speed and had broken his chain. With some help with an extra link from someone who's name I can't recall, he got his chain back together and was riding again.

The rest of the night was fairly uneventful. But we had a crash (me), some people that lost their way, and a broken chain. Strange evening.

The best part of the night was when I pulled up to the intersection of the Sammamish River Trail to get ready to turn right and head the 17 miles home as everyone else turns left and heads back to their cars at Redhook. I heard Joe say something to Dan and Kari about how they had ridden from home and still had some riding left to do. I asked where they were headed, and they told me that they lived in Bothell. That meant they would be riding the same bike path as me for about 10 minutes.

Normally, the ride home is the hardest part of the night. Especially when it is really cold out. It was not particularly cold this night, but the ride home is still tough. I had brought my iPod for the ride home. I don't normally ride with one for fear that I will become dependent. You cannot wear headphones in a 24-hour race. I held off putting on my iPod so that I could talk to Dan & Kari. I think I talked their ears off (sorry guys). I'm just not used to having any interaction on the ride home.

Between talking their ears off and then having my music, and maybe the not so cold weather, the ride home was great.

Where do I Begin...?

There were so many things going on yesterday, I'm not sure what to title this post. Or where to start my story. I guess the beginning is a good place. I had plans to actually leave early for my Wednesday night ride, and arrive at Redhook with time to spare. I enlisted Sharon to help me get out the door. I organized all of my stuff earlier in the day. I even remembered to fill my camelbak. The one thing that eluded me was prepping my bike. It had not been touched since the mud-fest at Black Diamond on Sunday, and was caked in dirt. I rushed to do a quick clean-up and lube. I did not succeed in leaving early, but I did leave on time. That means that I had 1hr 15min to get there. That is enough time to ride at a reasonable pace (even on my mt bike) and get there before they take off from the parking lot.

I adjusted my pace as I hit certain milestones along the route. It was very cold today and I actually did not want to be sitting around in the parking lot turning into an ice cube. I arrived at the bridge where the path from Redhook joins the Sammamish River Trail right as "the group" arrived. I put the group in quotes because it was only 2 people (Joe and another guy who's name I have forgotten - sorry).

So we start the ride and I quickly realize how cold I have actually gotten during the 1hr 15min spin from Seattle. I feel it in my legs and my arms/hands. We start up the first climb and my legs feel like logs. It's just hard to make them work when they are that cold. By about 3/4 of the way up, I am starting to warm up. But by then I am waaay behind. Thankfully, they wait at the road crossing and we are a group again. Although they are way faster than me, I figured that since we were only 3 people, we'd sort of stay together. Stay tuned on that one.

The first issue of the day started right on the first climb, but I was trying to keep up and did not want to stop. But finally, I had to. Because of the extreme cold (forecast called for 28 degrees), I was wearing booties over my winter boots. The zipper on the back has a little flap to keep the metal off of your skin, but the zipper was coming undone, and the metal was cutting my skin on the back of my calf like some slow method of torture. Any hopes of catching the other guys were gone after wrestling with the zipper for a minute.

Some miles and minutes later, after a few more zipper stops, I made it to the road leading to "Horse Pasture Hill" and hammered as fast as I could. There was little hope of them stopping and waiting because of the cold weather, but I thought I'd do my best to close the gap in case they did stop somewhere or start riding back toward me. I reached the base of Horse Pasture and started up the lower fire road section. At the top of the section, all I saw was white. That is where the snow started.

It is common for it to be much colder over in the valleys on the East side and I have seem them hold snow long after it has melted in other areas. But this really caught me by surprise. The singletrack section of Horse Pasture had 3 inches of snow combined with semi-frozen mud. Fun!

Then I reached the Redmond Watershed. All hope of ever catching them was lost. The normally fast, rolling section was covered in snow and ice and was anything but fast. I reached the intersection with the Pipeline Trail. I ate, switched my gloves to the warmest ones that I have, and put on my extra jacket. This section gets fast and can be VERY cold. Normally you reach at least 40 miles per hour down a couple of the descents on the Pipeline Trail. It is a very smooth, open multi-use trail. I don't have a computer on my mountain bike, so I don't know my speed. I would estimate that it was over 40 mph, when the trail turned white. So did my knuckles. If you haven't been going fast on a bike and suddenly found yourself riding on snow/ice, then you may not be able to relate. For those that have, you understand the high "pucker-factor" here. I stayed upright and decided to take it a little slower on the following descents.

I was in my big ring due to the fast, rolling terrain. There are a few uphills though, including "Long Lonely Hill", which really isn't that long and rarely lonely. Last night, it was both. On one of the rises leading up to Long Lonely, I had some trouble shifting. I just stayed on my big ring and pushed up the rise and quickly forgot about it. Then I arrived at the base of Long Lonely Hill and tried to shift to my middle ring. The shifter moved, but nothing happened. It was if I was trying to shift with no cable at all attached to my derailleur. I checked - the cable was there. My front derailleur was completely frozen! It has gotten caked with mud and it was so cold out, that on the fast Pipeline section, it froze up.

I sprayed water from my camelbak on it to melt the ice and shifted to the middle ring. I picked a comfortable gear, because I figured there wouldn't be much shifting happening for the rest of the ride. I just pictured myself riding a singlespeed. That didn't work very well, because shortly after I started pedaling, I was sliding. I had to stop again and thaw out the derailleur to find a more suitable gear for climbing in snow/ice. And I had to pick a careful line through sections that had not been ridden, walked, or sledded on too much so I had a bit of snow for traction. The rest of the trail was unrideable.

So I managed to make it over the top of Long Lonely Hill and started out on the last few rollers between me and the Sammamish River Trail. Here is where I really needed the OFF switch for my brain. I started thinking about how cold I was. Normally, the Thrilla loop would take under 2 hrs. Last week, I did it in 1 hr 48 min. I was only just past Long Lonely, and already over 2 hrs had elapsed. I was really cold. I was also tired. I was also hungry. I also had a frozen derailleur. Add a raw calf from the stupid zipper on my bootie. See what I mean about that OFF switch? Once your mind starts rolling, it is very hard to stop.

So I did something I have only ever done once before*. I called for the "team car". I rang Sharon and asked if she was interseted in a salmon sandwich from Redhook for dinner. If you have read my earlier posts, you know that we both love the salmon sandwich there. Sadly, she informed me that she had already eaten. So the truth came out. I told her that I really needed a pick-up because I was tired and cold and had issues. Thankfully, our au pair Catherine was home and was able to stay there as the kids slept. Sharon said she would come and get me.

The rest of the ride was fairly slow and uneventful. There was some more pucker-factor on the descent of Heart-Attack Hill, as the trail turned to snow and ice in front of me again. But it wasn't near the level of earlier. I arrived at Redhook and ordered a salmon sandwich to go. Sharon arrived and I quickly got my bike and myself in the car. I ate my sandwich sitting in the heated passenger seat on the way home. The ride home never felt so good. And a salmon sandwich never tasted so good.

I hate to stop during a ride for pictures, but I had to get a photo of Horse Pasture.


You may not be able to tell from the photo, but this is a frozen derailleur. At least it's now frozen in the middle ring.

And I could still smile (a little) afterward.


* The one other time I called in a pick-up was on a road ride of over 100 miles. I was new to Seattle and underestimated the weather report. It called for a chance of snow showers, but out I went. About 30 miles into the ride the snow started. It let up and switched to hail and rain, so it was really quite pleasant (kidding). After over 100 miles, I arrived at the foot of the I-90 bridge bike lane. As I crossed under I-90, I stopped under the shelter of the bridge. Most might not want to admit something like this, but I was near tears. I was exhausted and completely frozen. I was wearing good winter gear, but nothing can protect you when you are in the saddle for 7 hours in weather like that. I sat under the bridge for at least 10 minutes trying to thaw my hands before mustering up the courage to get going again. I rode across the I-90 bridge back to Seattle. The snow was falling and the roads were treacherous. I tried to go to Starbucks and get warm, but the power in the Leschi area had gone out. I borrowed someone's cell phone at the market next-door and called for Sharon to come get me. I was conflicted about it, because there are some hills and I didn't want her to have issues driving. But we have all-wheel drive and I really needed a pick-up.

Ode to Daylight Savings

Let me count the ways that I love Daylight savings...

Today I rode my bike to the office. It's only 4 miles via the most direct route. Not much of an accomplishment, right? Except for the fact that I have only done that one other time since the 1st of the year (I think). The days got short, and the winter got cold, and without even really thinking about it, I went from bike commuting 3 times a week to not at all.

What was different about today? It is still cold. There was snow forecast for this afternoon. So I rode my cross bike. The most significant difference is that one little hour of time that we changed our clocks. I left the office after 5:00pm, took the long route home (16 miles), and didn't need lights. So much nicer to be riding in the light, both psychologically and logistically. The combination of all the gear required for winter riding and the lights/batteries just makes it tough to motivate.

So here's a toast to William Willet (credited with first proposing Daylight Savings Time...in 1907!).

Cheers.

BuDu Mt Bike Series - Race #3

People say "be careful what you wish for because you just might get it". I wished for a cyclocross race this past season in the snow. Although there was plenty of frost at the USGP in Portland, we never really saw any snow. Well today out in Black Diamond the snow arrived. It wasn't a cyclocross race, but close enough. Probably a little less treacherous on the mountain bike anyway.

As always, I had a host of issues this morning that kept me from getting to the race early as planned. I had hoped to be there for at least some of the Open/Expert race to get some pics of Joe. As it turned out, I barely made it for my race. Among the issues were forgetting about DST even after 42 reminders and many conversations about it. Also thrown in the mix was an almost completely flat tire on my car when I walked out this morning. Luckily, when I put air in it at the gas station it held.

So I arrived, registered, and got suited up for the race. I got my shipment of "Medium" heat Mad Alchemy embrocation the other day, so on it went. I'd much rather be in shorts with embrocation than deal with figuring out which combination of leg/knee warmers and layers to wear. Mad Alchemy came through for me big time. Even with temps in the mid/low 30s and snow falling, I was perfect in shorts with the embro.

I had set some goals for this race, one of which was fighting for a good position at the start. I generally start at the back of the pack and start at a reasonable pace. The thinking is that those guys are faster than me and I need to survive the whole race. Not exactly the "Eye of the Tiger" attitude. I am trying to change that.

Today, I was in the first 5 or 6 guys at the front of the group for the start. They were starting age groups 30-39, 20-29, 19 and under, all at the same time. It was probably a group of about 20 guys (a small group today because of the weather). At the start, a steady freezing rain drizzle was falling. There was some slush on the ground, but no real snow to speak of.

The race started and I was only passed by one racer up the first straight-away. We hit the first turn and I would estimate I was in 6th place. Pretty quickly the course became somewhat technical, narrow singletrack, so passing was tough. I pretty much held my position for the first 5-10 minutes. A couple guys passed me, but I also passed a couple that had trouble in some sections. OK, now for the dose of reality.

In a fast section of the course, there was a large log crossing, and it was off-camber (at an angle to the path we were traveling). I rode that trail yesterday and I was aware of the log, but that didn't help. All of the bark was stripped off of it and it had a layer of slush on it (=very slippery). I got my front wheel over it but had too much weight on the back wheel when it hit the log and BAM! I was on the ground. 2 racers were coming hard behind me and I heard on of them gasp and ask if I was OK. Before he finished getting the words out, to both of our surprise, I was back on my feet and yanked my bike off the trail. They went by and I jumped back on the bike. I have to say, for such a seemingly hard fall at that speed, I was amazed that I was fine.

It took a few minutes to recover and calm down. By then, I had ridden pretty slow and sloppily and been passed by many riders. Just as I was settling back down, we hit the most technical section of the course. I never really got negative, but I was caught off guard by how much was left in the lap and how difficult the rocky, technical sections were with the layer of slush added.

Lap 1 down, 2 to go. Now I know the course. No more crashing. No slowing down. This is a race. Lap 2 was pretty uneventful, other than the fact that I was feeling pretty good. That's really an odd thing to say, because you are never really "feeling good" during a race. But as you push yourself more and more often, you learn to diagnose your suffering. Today wasn't so bad, and I actually felt like I was racing.

Lap 3 was great. I was feeling good. And the snow started falling...hard. The trail started to disappear under a layer of white. It didn't bother me at all. That's what I had wished for - a race in the snow. It was kind of like being a kid again. Who cares? I'm out racing my bike. It's dumping snow. Have fun. I did.

I picked up the pace and started reeling people in. I wasn't sure if they were in my class, but who cares. I lost count, but I think it was 5 or 6 people that I caught on Lap 3. That is definitely a milestone. Normally, I am dying by the end of the race and struggling to just get to the finish.

Sorry, no great results to report. I finished about where I normally would. But I felt great doing it. And I'm also counting on the fact that some of the slower (not so serious) racers were the no-shows today due to the weather. No idea if there is any truth to that, but I'm going with it anyway.

Also, sadly, no pics from during the race. Joe didn't make it out on the course in the snow. So all I have are the pics that I took after the race myself.

It was only a little but muddy ;-)




The snow started heavy on Lap 3, let up for a little while after the race, then started again. After 10 minutes in the bike shop waiting for results to be posted:


I stopped on my way out and took some photos of the starting straight and the early part of the course after the first turn.

Starting straight-away:

Standing in the first turn looking down the course:

My bike after the 2 minutes that it took me to take those photos:


Welcome to mt bike racing in the Seattle area in March!

BuDu Mt Bike Series - Race #2

I missed the first race in the series because I was down in California for my company's annual sales meeting. But I made it out to Sunday's race at Soaring Eagle Park in Sammamish. What a tough day. You might wonder how I can say that a ~1hr race was so tough, given the past races I have done*.

*see last post for explanation

The day started when a was awakened at 6:30 by the kids jumping on me and begging to go downstairs to watch a movie. I dragged myself out of bed, made them breakfast (including fresh squeezed orange juice), and got them seated on the couch in front of a movie. Sharon got up a little while later, and I somehow found myself back in bed. Bad idea.

I was seriously thinking about racing Beginner class, because that's what I really am when it comes to racing. The early start time and the amount of grief that I would have to take from my so-called friends forced me to race in the Sport class. I have to say, 11:00 start time does sound a lot better than 8:30. So sport class it is.

Back to me asleep in my bed at 9:10am. I wake up feeling really groggy and dehydrated. I walk downstairs before I realize what time it is. I say to Sharon, "I guess I'm not racing today". We chat about it and decide that if I can get my stuff together in 10 minutes and get out the door, it might be worth trying to make the race.

So I scramble around and get my gear together and my bike on the car. It is now after 10:00. The race is 41 minutes away according to Google maps. Clearly there will be no pre-ride of the course or any warm-up. I think I arrived and parked the car at 10:45. I jumped out of the car, registered, rode down the road to the car and back once (about 2 minutes) for a warm-up, and then they were starting to call up the groups for the Sport class start. I saw Molly (Joe's wife) and got a little encouragement that I would be fine without pre-riding, then I heard them calling the 30-39 age group. Before I could even really get into position, I heard someone yell "GO!". Now I'm awake.

Off we went, up a mud bog of a fire road. Right before the start a guy next to me warned me that it was really muddy. He wasn't lying. A couple hundred yards into the race and I'm already at the redline. Another couple hundred yards and I have my first of many near crashes. Would have been nice to pre-ride and be aware of that tree leaning into the course in the apex of that turn. Luckily, my front wheel bounced off the tree and back into the course and I managed to stay on my bike.

There were many spots where I braked, but didn't need to; and many spots where I didn't brake and really needed to. There were uphills that I didn't downshift for. You get the idea. It was pretty much a mess for me out there. After the first lap, I basically felt like poo and wanted to quit. Although I have very few mt bike races under my belt, I have raced cyclocross and I am aware that you will always suffer in a race. But when I say that I felt bad, that means beyond the normal suffering of racing a bicycle.

Although I don't really respect the man (but I do respect some of his accomplishments), Greg Lemond was quoted something to the effect of "It never gets easier, you just go faster". Basically, everyone suffers. As you get stronger, you just go faster as you suffer. The only way to reduce the suffering is to not push yourself. That's not really an option in a race. I have come to live by this quote as I race and train. When I am hurting the most, I repeat it over and over in my head. Lance is suffering too. Everyone suffers. Keep pedaling.

As I approached the end of the 2nd lap, which was only moderately better than the first as far as learning the course, I somehow convinced myself that it was only a 2 lap race and I was going to be done. In the back of my mind, I knew that it wasn't over, but my mind was running wild. I hadn't yet got it in check. I alluded to this in an earlier post on my blog, but now that I have completed a 24-hour solo race, I can't quit. No matter how much I might want to, when it comes down to it, I just can't.

I rounded the last turn in the course and started up the mud bog again. Someone yelled, "One more lap to go 106! Come on!" I almost got off my bike and punched them. It only took about 20-30 seconds for the reality to set in and for me to come to peace with it. One more lap - I can do this. Somehow, the fact that it is the last lap makes it easier to prolong the suffering.

During the third lap, I pushed myself and tried to make up time, but the engine room just wouldn't respond to my call for more power. As the lap went on, I just sort of settled into a pace that I could maintain. I felt like I was moving in slow motion and was convinced that I was the last guy out there. Seriously, I saw someone watching on the side of the course start walking after I passed and I totally believed that he was sweeping the course after me.

I don't know what my individual lap times were - although I remember looking down at my watch after the first lap and thinking that I saw 22 minutes. In hindsight, I'd have to bet that the third lap was my best. I finally was getting to know the course and had settled down both mentally and physically.

I crossed the finish line and headed back to the start area. I saw Joe there and lamented to him how awful I felt all race. As I was talking to him, people were coming past headed for the finish. They all looked to be going faster than I had been. I was confused. I asked Joe if these guys were completing a 4th lap. He asked me how many I did. I told him that I had done three. He said, "What!? You're not done, get back out there." Now I was really confused. I know Joe is a jackass and was probably messing with me, but I couldn't make sense of the situation.

I turned to Molly and asked her how many laps the race was. She responded without any hesitation that it was a 3 lap race. I turned to Joe and he had a big silly grin on his face. Thanks Joe. I guess I wasn't as pathetic out there as I thought, because there were a lot of guys coming in behind me.

Just goes to show you, that when it comes to pushing yourself in athletic endeavors...the mind is a terrible thing!

Here are some pics from the race - thanks to Joe. After he raced the Expert race, he ran all over the course and took pictures of everyone as usual.

Lap 1

You can tell it's early in the race because there are still other riders around me

This little rise messed me up twice before I finally shifted properly on lap 3


See - I'm so slow he got 3 pictures off before I hit the steepest part

If this picture had sound, you would hear Joe screaming some sort of encouragement at me, although to some it might not sound like encouragement ;-)


Now I can smile - it's over.

When Will I Learn?

So today is Wednesday - Thrilla day. Today was a special Thrilla because we were going to do 2 laps. The "Thrilla in Woodinvilla" is a Wednesday night trail ride that starts at the Redhook brewery parking lot. It is a 21-mile singletrack/fire road loop. Today the plan was to start with a backward loop, then do the regular loop.

A while back, I started riding my bike to Redhook instead of driving to get in extra miles and avoid sitting in traffic. I have been known to cut it a bit close and almost miss the group leaving Redhook parking lot. The last few Wednesdays, I have really tried to have all of my stuff prepared so as not to be late. But to no avail, I always seem to have to drop the hammer and pedal like mad to get there.

Today, I seemed to be on the ball. Everything was laid out. My camelbak was full. But somehow it was 5 minutes before I was supposed to leave and I wasn't ready. It is amazing how long it can take to just put on your gear and get out the door - even when everything is prepped. So I left myself only 1 hr 5 min to get to the meeting spot. When I am riding my cyclocross bike and I hustle, I can make it in 1 hr and 5 min. But today I was riding my mountain bike.

The idea is really to have a relaxing spin to Redhook, then a hard loop around the Thrilla course, then a nice realxing spin home. That really never happens. I always seem to be late and have to push hard to make it there. Then it has been cold, so I am generally pushing hard to get home and out of the cold. It does make for a good night's sleep on Wednesday nights - assuming that one (or more) of my 3 kids doesn't interfere. Yeah, right.

So there I am, grinding away as usual trying to make up time on the trip to Redhook today. And I did a great job. I arrived at a spot that usually takes me 40 minutes to get to in only 35 minutes. I had made up 5 minutes, so after another 5 minutes, I started to slow down. What I didn't realize is that there was a serious headwind on the last leg of the trip and I ended up being 6 minutes late. Sorry Joe (and Dan). Thankfully, they were kind enough to wait.

So out we headed for the first lap. Now Joe and Dan are WAY faster than me. Thankfully, they took it easy on me, but I tried to keep up with them as best I could. By the end of the first lap, I had been on the bike for over 3 hours and covered 39 miles (21 off-road). I was beat. The 2nd lap started and I quickly dropped to the back of the group. Now we had the full contingent, so there was a slow group that I could fall back to. Fall back I did, and kept falling. Bye, bye slow group. Now I was on my own. I know the route well, and I carry plenty of gear, so no real worries. But it hurt psychologically that I couldn't keep up.

I tried to convince myself that it was the 4.25 miles that I ran last night, but that didn't really work. I started thinking negative thoughts and stressing out about the 24-hour race in May. Then I smacked myself (in my mind) and snapped out of it. We were in the Redmond Watershed and I was way behind. I thought (hoped) that if I pushed hard, I could catch up with the ladies in front of me. The watershed has a section of fire road that I can cruise through pretty fast. So off I went.

Just before the turn at the end of the fire road section, I caught back up with the group. That really helped psychologically. And even though I had just put in a good effort to catch up, I got my second wind. I rode in the rest of the way with them.

2 laps down. 42 miles plus the 17 I rode from Seattle, for a total of almost 60. Now normally I would have to ride the 17 miles back to Seattle, which I have to admit can be very tough. It is a long lonely trip at 10:00pm in the cold winter up here. But tonight I had a secret weapon...salmon.

The redhook brewery has an awesome salmon sandwich on the menu. And I recently got Sharon hooked. So, as I rolled into the Redhook parking lot after 60 hard miles, there was Sharon waiting for me. And she informed me that she had already ordered our sandwiches and they were sitting on the table in the restaurant! What more could a man ask for? Shut up - that's not nice.

It took a lot of strength, but I fought off the unruly bartender that tried to make me drink a Blackhook Porter. Mmmmm..porter. The salmon sandwich never tasted so good. Thank you Sharon - for putting up with my crazy riding schedule, for coming to Woodinville and having my salmon waiting, and more than anything, for providing a warm, effortless ride home in my car! Although I did have to drive because Sharon had 2 beers ;-)

Good night.

Something is Wrong with this Picture...

Well, there is no actual picture. This is a blog, so I think I am allowed poetic license. But there is definitely something wrong. I competed in my first "normal" mountain bike race this past weekend. In my illustrious mountain bike racing career, I have competed in two other races. The first one was the 24-hour solo race in Spokane last May, and the second was the 12-hour solo race in Humboldt last August. Now I have completed the cycle by racing a "Sport" class race (~1hr) in the BuDu Seattle series.

Now you might ask what is wrong?

Well, any normal person would do the Sport race first, the 12-hour second, and the 24-hour last (or never). Many might argue that any normal person would not attempt a 12 or 24-hour solo event. So maybe I'm not normal. But even a slightly non-normal person might attack those tasks in the sequence above.

So why did I choose to do it 24-12-1? I have no idea.